forever cursed to draw people just standing and doing nothing SIGH

It’s Your Turn

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Namjoon x Reader

Prompt by my dearest @eradikeats-writes

Snippets of your journey through life together. Fluff with implications of smut.

Word Count: 1.4k

The bar scene was not  exactly your favorite. You found it all to be repetitive and tiresome. Always full of the same types of people, pushing the same types of lines. Saying anything and everything to make sure they had someone to help them warm their bed by the end of the evening. Tonight was no exception.

Your fingers played idly with the rim of your wine glass, counting the seconds until your roommate would finally close the deal with the cute financial analyst she’d been chatting up all night so you could finally leave.

Keep reading

Time After Time: I’ll Be Seeing You

Summary: If it were up to Dean, he’d never travel through time again. But no matter how many times he bitched about it, his ass always ended up in the past. Chasing after the Greek god of time, Chronos, Dean gets zapped back to 1943, where he shot a Nazi, and met the legendary Steve Rogers and James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.
Characters in this chapter: Dean Winchester, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Howard Stark, Red Skull
Characters mentioned: Sam Winchester
Word count: 1,430
Warnings: Canon violence, language, angst, major canon divergence [it’s an AU / crossover folks]
Author’s note: Inspired by this GIFset. Thank you @captain-rogers-beard and @climbthatmooselikeatree for listening to me babble on end about this. Your patience and help means so much more than you can imagine.

My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.


We lost him today, Sam. I thought maybe, just maybe Bucky wouldn’t fall if I were there. And Steve… he reminds me of dad after mom died. I don’t blame him. Not one bit. But I know how this ends for Steve, for Peggy… I don’t know if I have it in me to just stand back and watch it happen. He’s a fictional character to you, but he’s become my best friend, my family. Changing something as massive as this… fuck.

“I’m goin’ after Schmidt. I’m not gonna stop till all of Hydra is dead or captured,” Steve vows darkly, the drink shaking in his hand.

“You sure as hell won’t be alone,” Dean promises.

It’s immediate; making battle plans to take down Red Skull at his headquarters.

Dean is pacing around the room. “Johann Schmidt belongs in a bug house. He thinks he’s a god, and he’s willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the USA.”

“Schmidt’s working with powers beyond our capabilities,” Howard sighs unhappily. “He gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire eastern seaboard in an hour.”

Steve doesn’t like what he is hearing. “ How much time we got?”

“According to my new best friend, under twenty four hours,” Dean answers.

Peggy comes across the room and stands next to the table. “Where is he now?”

Pointing to a map, Dean answers. “Hydra’s last base is here, in the Alps. Five hundred feet below the surface.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?” Howard scoffs. “It’s not like we can just knock on the front door.”

“Why not?” Steve retorts, eyebrow arched, tone playful, yet serious. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Keep reading

Because You Are Mine, Love. [Fili x Reader.]

Not my gif. Gif credit goes to the amazing creators! 

Requested By: Anonymous.

Based OnI just saw your post, so I hope it’s okay to request. I would love to read something with Fili. Maybe Fili getting jealous of someone else flirting with the reader and him making the reader a courting braid later.

A/N: Of course it’s okay to request! You can request anything as long as you’ve read the rules and if the requests are open, sweetie! I would love to make this imagine, I really love writing Fili stuff; he’s pretty much my favourite dwarf. haha! I hope that you enjoy what I’ve come up with, lovely: And send in as many requests as you would like. (Sorry if it get’s shitty half way through, I really tried my best with it, anon: And I hope that you really, really like it. It was a pleasure for me to write such an imagine!) - Kat

Word count: 1,754

Warning’s: Reader is drunk and dancing in the bar at Lake Town, jealous Fili, protective Fili, fluffy Fili, cute Fili, possessive as hell Fili. A really bad fight between Fili and the reader, but they make up in the end. Courting Braid! Probably heaps of spelling, punctual and grammatical mistakes.(If I have missed anything then please let me know).

Disclaimer: I do not own Fili, Bilbo, The Company or Lake Town (unfortunately); but Tolkien does!

Midnight’s moon swayed and strutted loosely over the cheerful chatter that was Lake Town. Mimicking; swinging just like the moon, your hips fluctuated to the lively tune supplied by a man with a fiddle. Guffawing blared from your extensive ajar lips, a pint of ale accompanying you; soothing you of each and every one of your troubles. “Those are some gorgeous moves, if I were to say so for m'self, lass.” a deep tone vibrated into your eardrums, leaving you dizzy as you spun to face whom in which had uttered the bold compliment.

“You recon?” a quirk of your delicate brow sent shivers through the dashing man.

“I recon as swell as I can eye a lovely lassie such as yourself!”

“Such an attempt at flattery shall get you nowhere, kind sir.” you winked, humor spreading fondly upon your complexion.

From across the rundown bar, Fili stared at your whimsy fluctuating hips with a sense of alluring desire. He had not witnessed such a side to you, even with the flirtatious advancements he’d pursued upon you. ’It’s probably just the ale getting to her head.’ he thought humorously, his heart stirring vividly within his strong chest. Though, melancholy captured him as he took in the grinning man, obviously making flirtatious verbal advancements upon you. His heart seemed to sink to a lower level, dampening his cheerful state as he saw in which the way you giggled and responded. There was obviously something going on, and Fili did not approve.

Keep reading

I guess I just lost my husband / I don’t know where he went
So I’m gonna drink my money / I’m not gonna pay his rent (nope)
I got a brand new attitude / And I’m gonna wear it tonight

I’m telling you, this mix is pure gold.


A little emotional hurt/comfort between Hanin “Dad” Lavellan and Darren Miller. Because the boy misses home badly, and sometimes the only person around to comfort him is his superior… (approx 2300 words)

It was hard. Leaving home. It wasn’t that Darren was the youngest or the most sheltered among the recruits to do it – to walk away from his family – but maybe that just made his inability to cope all the worse. The children who had fled to Haven seeking shelter were allowed to cry. They were allowed to huddle down in a corner and bury their faces in their knees. No one ever thought less of them for it.

But Darren wasn’t a child. He had no excuse.

He always tried to be quiet when it happened. Stole away, careful of the patrolling guards making sure no stray recruits were out wandering. He’d had a harder time, back in Haven. There were fewer nooks and crannies for him to hide in, the rustic houses watching no matter where he went. But back in Haven it hadn’t been so bad. He had only been away from his family for a few weeks. It still hadn’t seemed real.

Luckily, there were plenty of places to hide in Skyhold.

Today, the location of choice was near the barn, tucked behind some old carpentry tools and off-cut wood. It was far enough away from the barracks not to draw attention, and no one in his squad would waste time looking too far beyond it if they noticed him gone. Sitting with his back against the cold stone, Darren pulled out a piece of paper. It was wrinkled and stained, muddy in places, water-damaged in others. He had tried so hard to keep it safe, but it seemed he couldn’t even do that right. Regardless, he opened it up with clumsy fingers, teeth chattering, tears seeming to dry before they even had a chance to fall as cold wind whipped around him, stinging his skin.

It was silly. Such a simple note. His ma and pa had written it for him just before he left, with the help of the Inquisition recruiter.

Be safe, Darren. Be strong. Come home to us when you can. We will be waiting, my sun.

Love forever,
Ma and Pa.

Maker, some days made it hard not to just pack up and leave. He knew that if he went home, his parents wouldn’t think any less of him. He knew that his little sister would leap into his arms, uncaring of whatever he might have to drop to catch her. But then…

Keep reading

Bad Boy BTS- Shades of Grey- Hoseok (Part 8)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 , Part 9

Your whole body moved when the man shook you by your hair, but you never broke eye contact with Hoseok. You were terrified, but you tried to tell him without speaking, that you weren’t blaming him, that none of this had been his fault, and that you were thankful, for he had tried to protect you from those men as best as he could.

“I SAID BACK AGAINST THAT WALL!” The man yelled at the boys, who all stood up. They walked towards the wall, standing against it, with panic in their eyes. You could see the expression of disgust on Jin’s face, and the anger boiling inside Suga’s veins, as they stared at the man holding you, and you realized, they cared about you.

So much for bad boys. You muttered with a bitter laugh. You couldn’t believe it, these guys, who had a reputation for being ruthless troublemakers, who were thought to be nothing but the lowliest of people, cared more about you than your parents did, the parents who had abandoned you at home, for an unknown length of time, being a minor, and hadn’t actually even bothered to call you up to check on you.

“Please let her go…” Begged Hoseok, falling to his knees. He knew there wasn’t much he could do. If he tried anything, he would either be stopped by the other men, or the man would slash your neck, and he would lose you forever. Although at this moment he didn’t know what would be worse for you, death, or whatever those guys were planning to do to you. His insides churned at the sole thought of it, and he wanted to be sick.

“We will let her go… once we are done with her. I promise we will return her back safely once we have had our fun… Well, as safe as can be anyway.” He told him with a disgusting evil laugh, which reminded you of the villains in old movies. It would have been almost comical, had he not been threatening to rape you and who knows what else.

You began sobbing desperately, covering your face with your hands. The man laughed cruelly, and once again, pressed the blade a  little harder into your neck, drawing blood. You could feel its warmth rolling down your neck, and staining your t-shirt. You looked at Hoseok once more, trying to remember every feature of his face, for comfort, and just in case you never got to see him again.

The man pulled on you harshly, hurting your scalp, to get you to stand up, and you obeyed immediately, pursing your lips tightly so you wouldn’t squeal out loud from the pain and fear. You stumbled, as he continued to grab you in such a way that meant you had to bend over. You had never been put in such a submissive position before, and honestly, you didn’t like it.

The man lowered his knife, and began walking towards his friends, when out of the blue, he was knocked on the side of the head, and he fell over, pulling you down with him, but his hand loosened almost immediately.

You scrambled to your knees, and backed away as quickly as you could. You lifted your head, and saw Namjoon straddling the man that had held you captive before, and punching him fiercely on the face, over and over again, until his knuckles were as red as the man’s bloody face.

At that same instant, the boys pulled themselves away from the wall, and the fight resumed, except that this time, your boys had the upper hand. You backed away further against one of the pillars, and noticed a man knocked out against a wall, the man Namjoon had been fighting. You smiled, Namjoon was smart, he could have made a move earlier, but he waited until the knife was safely away from you to fight, and no one had seen it coming.

You felt a sudden wave of relief wash over you, and for some reason logic cannot explain, you began crying even harder. You were safe now, your boys had saved you.

The intruders ran off, picking up the unconscious members of the gang, cursing and yelling at your boys, who stood weak, and bloody, but victorious. You ran towards Hoseok faster than you ever thought you could run, and held him tightly.

“Hoseok… Hoseok…” You cried into his arms, as he held you tightly.

“I’m so sorry Y/N… So so sorry… I should have never brought you here… “ he cried, unable to keep up the tough act anymore. His heart was shattering, falling in pieces to the ground. He began shaking, his whole body trembled with fear of what could have been, and relief, adrenaline slowly moving out of  his veins.

“It’s okay, I am okay.” You told him, as he held you tightly.

You watched the guys nod at each other, and begin to clear up the area, taking away the things they needed to take back. You watched Suga pour beer over a cut, and you almost opened your mouth to argue with him that it was probably not the best idea, but you kept it shut. He must have done this many times, and until they could get back home and tend to their wounds, cheap beer would do you guessed.

Hoseok looked at Jin, and mouthed something you couldn’t see, but Jin nodded, and grabbed his car keys. Suga sighed, and began walking towards Namjoon.

Hoseok began walking with you, but you could see him limp, so you put yourself under his arm, and helped him support his body weight with your body. He thanked you softly. Even beaten up like this, his face was still beautiful.

The drive back to your house was silent and uncomfortable, and every now and again you could see Jin checking his face in the mirror, and hissing at the sight, it was borderline hilarious how that seemed to be the only thing he cared about.

Hoseok grabbed your hand tightly in his, but he continued to look ahead at the road, you felt blood still trickling down your neck.

Jin followed Hoseok’s directions, and parked outside your house, grabbing his phone and beginning to text someone. Hoseok opened the door, and once again helped you out. You walked up the steps to your house, and opened the door. Hoseok followed you inside.

You walked up to the kitchen, to grab something to clean your wound with, but Hoseok took the disinfectant from your hand, and with the help of a cotton bud, he gently cleaned the wound. He didn’t speak, but you could see shame and guilt in his eyes.

“Hoseok… Will you stay with me tonight?” You asked him, looking at him, sat beside you on the sofa, still gently dabbing at your neck, trying to clean off all the blood, before placing a gauze on your neck, to make sure no bacteria could enter it, and the wound wouldn’t re open.

“No.” He whispered shortly, without looking you in the eyes. Your eyes widened, your heart dropped.

“Why not?” you asked him. He looked at your eyes briefly, before looking away.

“I can’t. I can’t see you again Y/N. I am too dangerous for you. Look at what happened tonight. You are not safe with me. You could have been killed, or raped, or worse. I don’t want to know. I can’t see you again.” He yelled, as he stood up abruptly, dropping the cotton in his hands.

“Hoseok you can’t be serious! You saved me tonight! Without you I’d be dead!” You replied, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. The sight of your tears made his heart ache, but he had to stay strong.

“WITHOUT ME YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN SAFE!” He yelled back, running his hands through his hair. You flinched at the sound of his raised voice.

“Please don’t leave me Hoseok… I don’t want to be alone tonight… Please… Don’t you love me?” You asked him, large, crystal clear tears rolling down your face, your bottom lip quivered.  Hoseok looked away.

“I do love you. That’s why I’m doing this. I’m sorry Y/N… Stay safe… Goodbye.” He replied quickly, before darting out the door, and back into the car.

Nate Maloley - Inspiration


It’s amazing to see the progress of something. Looking at old pictures you see how much you changed through the years. Looking at your old exercise book you can see how your writing changed as you grew older. Being an artist has the perk of seeing how your art changed through the bad and good times in your life. I started drawing things when I was little. I know, this is what little children do, draw princesses and cats, but I drew almost everything. My mom has a huge box full of my early “artworks”, portraits of my dolls, my mom and my brother, I often sat in front of the TV and drew my favorite characters. Of course these were mostly horrible drawings, but some of them were recognizable. Then my mom thought it would be good if I could go to an art school, so I could become a real artist.

Drawing and painting was my passion. I drew on the school bus, during lunch, at home, at night. I always had a sketchbook and a pen with me. What people photographed, I drew or painted it. When I became a teenager I started to express my feeling through art. I had a lot of dark pieces through my early teenage years, I didn’t handle becoming a young woman easily, you can tell. Then my artworks changed when I went to high school and I met my friends. I had other problems that time, my parents divorcing, the threat of the future… I painted my fears and doubts.

When I was twenty I had my first ever exhibition. My mom told me that an owner of a gallery found her and asked if I wanted to exhibit a few of my paintings and other things. I would have been stupid to say no, this is every artist’s dream. You could see the progress of my life, I chose the best ones, and I decided to have a whole room just for one theme. My boyfriend, Nate.

Our relationship started back when we were only sixteen years old. I met him at a club my friends dragged me to. That’s not a place where girls like me likes to go, and you could tell that I wasn’t enjoying myself. I wasn’t one for short skirts and wild dancing. I stack out with my flannel shirt, jeans and boots. I didn’t do much other than just sit at a barstool and just watch the people. I did a few sketch to a napkin and I wasn’t even paying attention to what was happening when he came up to me.

“Those are pretty dope,” he said sitting down next to me, looking at the sketches. I just shrugged.

“Thanks. You want me to draw you?” I asked smiling. He chuckled and nodded.

“Do I have to stay still?”

“No. I’m used to moving models.” I made a quick sketch of him portraying him looking at me through the club lights.

“That’s amazing,” he told me looking at the drawing.

“You can keep it,” I told him sighing and looking over to my friends who were still on the dance floor.

“Thank you, but I think something is missing in that case.” I turned to him with furrowed eyebrows. I didn’t understand what he was talking about, so he helped me out. “You phone number.”

I laughed as I realized the situation. Thinking that I had nothing to lose I wrote my number down and gave it to him.

We talked through the whole night until my friends decided to go. Then I said goodbye and he promised me to call me the next day. He did. This napkin with his portrait and my number on it was the first piece I framed to the gallery.

Nate and I started to date soon after our first meeting. We were quite different, but I guess this is why we were a good match. At the beginning it was just like any other teenage loves. He took me out sometimes, we went to parties together, I listened to him rapping with his friends and watched him skateboard. We had fights, but nothing serious, we were happy and balanced. From that time I had a painting of him sitting on my bedroom floor and reading a book I gave him. He wasn’t one for reading just for fun, but he stretched a point this time. I loved how he was focusing on the pages and I just had to paint him. This was a colorful and simple portrait, just like how our relationship was at that time.

Then as a year passed by things got complicated. Nate’s career was ascendant, and I swear, I couldn’t be happier for him, but he had to be away a lot. I had different curses almost every month and sometimes I was the one who had to be gone while he was at home. We started to fight over stupid things and both of us were stressed almost all the time. In addition, I had to start to build my portfolio up to my college application, it had every free moment of my life.

“I can’t believe we can’t meet for more than a month,” I said trying to fight my tears back. We were at his bedroom, just over another fight because he told me he can’t come home as we were expecting.

“I know baby, I’m sorry,” he whispered caressing my cheeks gently. “But we can make it.”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to smile even though I just wanted to scream from the top of my lungs. I nodded and wrapping my arms around his neck I was ready to never let him go. But that was impossible.

That night I couldn’t sleep, so I took my sketchbook out and did several quick sketches of him sleeping peacefully in the bed. I framed all of them in one, this was the second one. It didn’t have any colors, any happiness in it. It was just him and my desperation for capturing the moment of him still being there.

When he started to be more famous with each day and the media became a factor in our lives, there came the next artwork. I got into college, so I moved to Los Angeles, meaning we could meet more since he was basically living there. So our distance problem got solved, but fans took that place in our life. Girls did not like the idea of him having a serious relationship, they all wanted a chance with him, they hit on him at clubs and flirted with him no matter what, it didn’t stop them that I was right there holding his hand. They went on and on forever about how I wasn’t the one for Nate, how different we were and most of them wanted us to break up. I tried to not let those rumors and gossips get to me, but some of them were so realistic that I couldn’t think straight.

“Hey baby, wanna come to my concert tonight?” Nate greeted me when I answered the phone. I just finished reading an article about how he was drinking shots with a brunette last night, and I was clearly mad at him.

“I don’t know, maybe you should take your brunette side chick,” I sassed back at him.

“What? What are you talking about?” he asked confused.

“That gorgeous girl you drank shots with yesterday when it was a boys night out.”

“She just came up to us and bought us a few drinks saying she was a fan. I didn’t want to be rude, baby, but nothing happened, I promise.”

Conversations like this happened quite often between us, and I knew damn well that he would never cheat on me, but sometimes I just lost my mind. I felt like an idiot to start it again, but those photos just got me crazy.

“Yeah, I know,” I quietly said knowing there was no point in fighting over it again.

“Baby, I told you not to read anything, those are bullshit!”

“I know, I just… Never mind. When does the concert start?” I asked trying to close the topic for once and a while.

“Nine. I’ll pick you up at eight, okay?”

“Perfect, I’ll be waiting. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

That night I went to the concert with him and watched him from backstage as he performed to the screaming crowd that came out just for him. I sat there watching the people and how many of them were there. I did what I always did, took my sketchbook out and draw him standing in the huge crowd and then I made a miniature me to the corner of the paper signaling how other people started to get between us. The whole drawing was dark and blurry, just like how I felt the situation.

And the last bigger piece was one from the days when we finally moved together. It took us some time to make this decision, but I’m glad we did it. Things got easier when we got to come home to the same place and we could sleep together almost every night. I made a drawing of us sleeping tangled up, I did it just from the memory of his touch on my skin, it took me a whole week to finish it, I memorized the way his arms were around me every night and during the day I just draw it until I felt like it was perfect. It had colors, but not that many, just a few to make it more realistic, because that’s what I wanted to show with this piece. That we were real.

Other than these drawings and paintings I had some from the meantime, doodles, paintings I did just for fun, but the model was always Nate. I couldn’t forget that he usually got insecure when he knew I was drawing him, but like I gave a fuck, I didn’t stop. He was my biggest inspiration.

“You ready to go home?” I heard his voice as I was standing in front of the napkin. The opening was over and all the guests left, it was just the two of us.

“Yes,” I smiled at him. He stepped to me and put his arms around me.

“You know that I’m really proud of you? It’s amazing what you are capable of,” he said kissing my forehead.

“Thank you, but it couldn’t happen without you.” He grinned at me and captured my lips in a sweet and caring kiss.

“I’m just the bastard you like to draw,” he said chuckling and giving me one more peck on the lips. “Come on baby girl, let’s get your artistic ass to bed.” He held my hand and we started to walk out of the gallery. He opened the door for me, but before I stepped out I stopped and looked at him.

“You know that probably I will draw you tonight while you are sleeping?” I asked raising my eyebrows at him. He smirked at me kissing my forehead again.

“Of course baby. What do you think, why did I shave? I want to look good on that damn portrait once in a lifetime.”

As always

I don’t really know what this is, but I like it. Let me know what you think :) (and let me know if you want to be included in my tag list - or if you want off it)

You and the Winchesters has to capture a pack of vampires for Crowley.

Word count: 1577

Dean first. As always. You haven’t even bothered saying anything, because that inevitable snort and huff is all too familiar.

You and Sam keep close, but he’s still one or two steps in front of you. It’s the way you always end up; the natural order, you guess.

Of course you could argue – you could argue until you turn blue – in fact you have done, on several occasions, but this is the Winchester Show. When on a hunt, people follow their rules.

Keep reading

A Monster I Know

You see, the thing is, I know you.  

I know you by those battlewound scars that cover your ivory flesh.  I bare those scars as my own, for I have tended to them all.  They marr your skin like a map full of cities that I have built with needle and thread, bandages and kisses.  And here, here is the capital.  Here is the king that sits in his throne of ribs and who beats out a rhythm that only matches my own.

I know this, because this map is my home. Every mole is a state and every freckle is a city.  And when I lie snug against you, I can pretend for a sigh in time, that together we are a galaxy.  We are infinite side by side; we are hopelessly intertwined by the balls of our heels to the wisps of hair on the back of our necks.

Keep reading

more in the veela!zayn verse

“This is a bad idea.”

“This is a great idea, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Louis glares at Zayn, then pokes at his chest for good measure. “I came up with it, ergo it’s a great idea.”

“I should stay home.” Zayn pulls his coat a little closer around him, and Harry shakes his head. He knows why Zayn thinks it’s a bad idea, but it’s been a while since the five of them all did things together, and he doesn’t want Zayn to take it back at the last moment.

“Come on, Zaynie. It’s my birthday. I want to go out to celebrate it.” Liam comes out of the doorway with full puppy dog eyes on. They’re all in muggle clothes tonight, because apparently to Liam going out means going to a muggle club, which Harry thinks will be pretty interesting. He’s been to a few muggle places before, but never like this.

“But what if—”

“Honestly, Ravenclaws.” Louis rolls his eyes, then throws an arm over Zayn’s shoulders. “Don’t listen to him, Liam. We’re all going as soon as Niall gets his ass here.”

As if on cue, there’s a bang outside, and then Niall’s stumbling through the door, grinning widely. His cheeks are flushed like he’s already gotten started. “Who’s ready to celebrate?” he cheers, and holds up a flask.

“See? Someone has the right idea,” Louis announces, and lets go of Zayn to take the flask. “Everyone out. Time to go. Liam, drink more.”

Louis reaches up to hand the flask to Liam, then shoves at his shoulder to get him outside. Harry’s pretty ready to go, but he hangs back when he sees Zayn hesitating, chewing on his lip.

“Nothing will go wrong,” he tells Zayn, smiling as comfortingly as he can. “They’re all muggles anyway, they won’t know if it does.”

“Oh that’s comforting.” Zayn rolls his eyes, and Harry grins. If Zayn’s being sarcastic they’re probably okay. “I can cause a riot, but at least they won’t know why.”

“You can’t cause a riot,” Harry argues, and Zayn laughs. It makes his face light up, and Harry swallows down an entirely non-magical urge to kiss him, to do anything to keep him laughing like that forever.

Keep reading

Well, Well, Well

@kaaras-adaar from [x]

This was beginning to be too much. Those wanting stares towards one another, perhaps a kiss in between. It left his body aching!Aching for more, wanting to feel Herah against his fingertips, and wanting her hands on his own skin, touching him, kissing him… amongst other things.

The night had been perfect with the both of them, chatter, sweet nothings, a little romancing, but it still felt like he couldn’t get enough of the other woman. The tension between them was there, and he knew it–of course, they’d even spoken about it. Spoken of going slow and taking it easy, and Kaaras’ body absolutely hated him for agreeing to it.

Taking a seat on the lounge arm, he slid back and fell into it, laying back against the cushions. It was a small room he was assigned to, but nothing wrong with that. Just… boring and lonely, really. And the kisses from Herah still lingered on his lips, which had his skin prickled and wanting, and he could feel the tingling down between his legs or unsatisfied arousal.

Running a hand down his face, he sighed softly. He hadn’t felt so needy for the affections of someone else in weeks, months even! The last person he’d desired so much was Kaariss.

Nibbling on his bottom lip, he kicked his boots off and let them fall at the end of the lounge, and he unbuckled his belt, shuffling his pants down and kicking those off as well. It left him in his smalls, but he’d sleep like that so it was fine. For now, he had other plans, and he dipped his hand beneath them, gently pulling back the skin of his member and massaging.

It felt like forever since he’d had some time to himself, to be able to just bask in the pleasure of touching himself. It was warm, and comfortable, a little sinful and absolutely delightful at the same time. It started slow, teasing almost, but then it was all tense muscles, soft moans and needy begging to come through panting whispers.

Alas, that didn’t last long. He was risking it anyway, he generally did and had to, but he had expected a squire or something, not Herah to come barging through the door.

With a shocked and embarrassed gasp, Kaaras was sitting upright with a cushion over his lap. “Maker’s arse, don’t you know how to knock!?” His voice came out all broken and embarrassed and defensive. He was flushed in the face, and… Maker’s breath. This was so embarrassing!

Her first reaction was simply to pause, to take stock of the surroundings and realize what he was doing before she slowly took another step into the room and carefully shut the door behind her. It closed with a gentle click of the lock, and she slid her hand along the bolt before reassessing her choices. 

She had not meant to barge in of course, and in almost all circumstances she was more than capable of knocking. She would have, had circumstances allowed it. They had not. There was a man who had said some rather insulting and suggestive things in the courtyard earlier upon arriving at the inn, and she had been on her way upstairs when she chanced the sight of him climbing them after her. Rather than let him know where she herself was actually staying - he seemed the sort to make a note of that - she had turned instead and casually made her way towards Kaaras’s with the intent of tricking him that this was her room. And she could hardly knock at her own door, could she? 

But that explanation did not matter, not with what she was confronted with now. Kaaras, face flushed, and a pillow in his lap - she would have smiled at that, were she not the invader.

“I had no choice,” she said softly before drawing back away from the door. She could not quite leave yet either, in truth. That other man would still be out there, and so for the moment she was stuck. And perhaps…well perhaps she shouldn’t leave anyway. She was glad she had locked the door against intrusions now. It meant she could step away from it with quiet eyes.

She slowly took a step forward, eyes fixing on his, and drew a slow breath, raising her chin a little.

“I’m sorry,” she added gently, and meant it. She knew most people, Kaaras included, were more private than she was. Her upbringing had made encountering such circumstances simple enough to navigate, though she did admit to a little bit of heat at the fact it was Kaaras. She wet her lips, closing her eyes a moment, and then she drew another slow breath.

And then she took another step, and another, until she was standing over him. She wanted to touch him, so she reached out to carefully brush her fingers across his face. Her eyes studied his face, nothing else, lips parting a little.

“Madrigal’s Tits, do you have any idea how…?” she caught herself, glancing away with a soft sigh. “Brasca,” she hissed, low through her teeth, a curse in Antivan full of longing. She didn’t know where to go from there, what she should do next. Her fingers slowly slid away from his cheek.