filthydirtysock (
filthydirtysock) wrote in
bakerstreet2013-08-16 04:49 pm
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SIMILAR TO THE PICTURE PROMPT MEME ONLY FOR NSFW/SMUT PROMPTS INSTEAD
i. COMMENT WITH CHARACTER
ii. OTHERS LEAVE A PICTURE (OR TWO OR THREE....)
iii. REPLY TO THEM WITH A SETTING BASED ON THE IMAGES.
Link to an image: | Embed an image in your reply: | You can control width and height of your pictures: |
/disappears into the night
Re: /disappears into the night
Given, they weren't the sort that ended in bloodshed and dead friends (all the time) anymore, but waking up suddenly with wet panties and tears edging her eyes was almost as bad as waking up with tear tracks down her cheeks and imaginary blood on her hands. It makes her feel just as filthy and just as guilty, and for the longest time she represses any and all thoughts to do with Peter Hake. The sexual get so tightly grouped with the abusive that her reactions become one in the same; taking a chilly shower in the morning and half expecting his hands to burst up from the drain is a common emotional roller coaster in the weeks following their rather unfortunate encounter in the Hale Loft. She avoids the downtown residence as readily as she had the decrepit house in the middle of the preserve, and avoids him as a conversational topic all together.
But as tightly woven into the supernatural happenings as she is, there's no avoiding the loft forever.
Or him, it would seem.
She tells herself she is going there to talk to Derek, or retrieve whichever bestiary print outs Stiles left in the wake of his last all nighter, or maybe some of the ancient werewolf literature they've no doubt floating around. She refuses to admit any ulterior motives, even to herself, and in a fugue state of denial, she parks her car outside and fiddled with the keys in her hand all the way up the service elevator that served as a front door. Wishing that her keys were sterling silver (and that silver caused more damage than wolfsbane) undermined her denial of what she was doing here, so Lydia focuses on what a poor living establishment the big, bad alpha of Beacon Hills had chosen and pondered how well werewolves faired against asbestos until the door was pulled open and she came face to face with the very opposite Hale she'd wanted to see.
...totally.
She hates that he still scares her (arouses her? the two are so interlocked now, and for all her genius, she can't separate the two) and there's a couple moments of open mouthed silence before she accusatorially trills: ]
...You.
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He's taken to spending most of his time on the couch while Cora slips in and out of consciousness. Despite what people do think of him Peter cares for the girl. She's the last remaining link to a time that didn't involve him killing. She's the last link to his long lost humanity. It's no surprise he spends a lot of his time checking her progress and sticking close when he's not. Most mistake it for an ulterior motive, but Peter is almost certain he couldn't drag himself away even if he was forced. So far Derek has taken pity on him and not tried to boot him from the loft. If he did try there would no doubt be a fight of sorts.
There's a knock and he's almost tempted to ignore it. Then again this could be Derek. They've moved Cora up into a guest room and that leaves the downstairs pretty quiet for Peter. Ignoring Derek if he's somehow lost his key would not be smart. Then again it could also be the other Beta. The brillo pad one. The one with daddy issues out the ass. He's not anxious to talk to him. When the door is pulled open he's fairly surprised to find Lydia there. He did detect a certain floral note in the air. He probably should have been paying attention more. He's quite happy to see her though. His favorite little pawn. She looks positively flushed and there's something else behind the scent of her perfume. He can't quite make it out, but it'll come to him in time.
A smile has moved across his face and he's snapped the book in his hand shut quite loudly. Always a flair for the dramatics this one. His brow shot up and he's side stepped to allow her entry. Because she has to have come here for some reason. He's not a hundred percent sure what that reason is, but part of him thinks it's not for anything specific. She has to know that Peter will be hovering around the loft with Cora still not out of the woods just yet. Plus they still have a rather tricky situation to work out concerning Jennifer Blake. He can't just run off into the night. ]
Me. Hi, kitten. You look--[ He made sure to give her a blatant once over. Making people uncomfortable is Peter Hale 101. Lydia is his favorite person to demonstrate his skills on. ]--good enough to eat. What're you doing here? Did you miss me?
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There's even a dramatic roll of the eyes in the space after he talks, and an aggravated sigh as she brushes past him. Given, Lydia tries her very best not to touch him; makes a show of turning sideways and hugging the doorjam until she's past Peter and can stroll into the middle of the sparse loft. It feels better when there's more space between them, freer and less intimate. The door frame had been weirdly intimate because she remembered the last time he'd forcibly escorted her out the door and kissed her in the hallway. Most intimate moments Lydia liked to dwell on did not involve slapping and scared sweat and running away. And as far as she was concerned, she wasn't here to make any better memories. ]
No, [ Lydia sneers, judging everything from the ceiling to the floor in this apartment, including him. Seriously, how could she ever miss him? But there's far too long a pause between her declaration and her reason for it to be completely buyable. ] I wanted to talk to Derek. Is he here?
switching tenses all around because i'm lazyyyyy
He rolls his eyes and shuts the door loudly once she's inside. However she wanted to play this was fine by Peter. His head tilts finally and he tosses the book onto the nearby couch. He exhales softly and makes his way towards her. She may have created distance on purpose, but Peter is very good at crushing that space. He's very good at staying close and creating massive personal space issues with people. It's kind of what he does best and he really does his best work when he's in the presence of Lydia. He's a little surprised that she hasn't sprinted for the bathroom or something where she can have a door keeping them apart. ]
Right. [ The smile on his face right now is delicious. So adorable when she tries to resist him. ] No. He's out. Why would you need to speak to my nephew? As I remember you did drug him and take him to me. I don't imagine that makes the two of you best friends. Why do you need him? [ Because he doesn't buy your bullshit Derek excuse at all. ] I'm sure there's something that I can help you out with. [ He's close now. Way too close for comfort. ]
i give up with tenses around 1am, it's a free for all here!
Not in some quirky, cute 10 Things I Hate About You way. More of the I think about killing you sometimes, that has lately crossed into I think about killing you late at night territory, and is steadily dissolving into I think about you late at night. And it's awful and she hates it, and hates him for it because she's sure he's causing it somehow. Planted the seed in her head all those months ago and was fueling it now with his proximity and teasing and those light, little threatening kisses the last time she was here.
Of course, last time she'd been all but thrown out. Cora had been sick and she had been screaming, and had she not been so upset with the whole ordeal, it would have been plenty reasonable that he'd asked her to leave. This time there's no shouting, and Lydia takes more than her fair share of time studying the interior of the loft with attention to detail she'd never paid it before.
It buys her time in responding; buys her time in formulating her lie, and by the time she turns around to face him, he's readily invading her personal space. It makes her mouth goes dry, and she stares at him with open lips for two long seconds before swallowing. ] I had some questions for him. [ For a genius, her lies are terrible. At least she can speak them with conviction. ] Him, and not you. I didn't come here for you.
[ She lets him get close, very close, too close to comfort. But lending to the whole Derek, not Peter insistence, Lydia belatedly raises a hand and pushes at his chest. ]
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She's very adamant on proving to him and maybe a little bit herself that she didn't come to the loft to see Peter. Even though she knew damn well that Peter would no doubt he lurking. His niece was recovering and he needed to be close. She's trying so hard to prove that she doesn't think about him in the slightest. Peter's actually amused by this whole ordeal. Peter teeters back when she pushes at him, but he doesn't really move. He just leans back into position and lifts a hand to take hers from his chest. He takes the opportunity to lace their fingers together. Isn't that nice, Lydia? ]
I'm probably more knowledgeable about this stuff than Derek. He's gotten most of his information from me or my older sister. You forget that I grew up with her--I know just as much as her. Asking me would probably benefit you more. [ His tongue snakes out and runs over his lips slowly because just maybe he's testing her. Trying to figure out just what has sent Lydia Martin here. It certainly wasn't to talk to his nephew. ]
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She hates it, of course. It's precedent. ]
Yeah, [ she admits, kind of surprised with herself that she's actually processing what he's saying and responding intelligently. ] But I don't like you.
[ Well, responding, anyway. ]
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He smiles when she cops to not liking him. No one likes him apparently. It's never bothered Peter and it's probably not going to start. Having someone not like you means absolutely nothing to him. ] I don't care, sweetheart. Liking me has no connection to anything below the belt and I think you know that. You're a smart girl? How's anatomy work? [ His gaze flickers downward as his free hand moves to brush light fingers over her hips. ]
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[ Just because she was thinking things along the same line didn't mean she was fully prepared for anything quite so spot on to come out of his mouth. He's not even particularly vulgar, but every word that drips from his lips is outright filthy. Lydia flushes accordingly, though basic embarrassment is to blame too.
Was she that obvious? (Yes.) Obvious enough that he'd figured out what she wanted before she'd admitted it to herself? (Yes.) Had he really just said that? (Yes!) And did that mean this was going to end like some of those indecent trains of thought had ended? (Well...) ]
Wh- ah... No. [ She shakes her head when he touches her hip, a quiet no don't do that even as her mouth goes dry and her breath quickens. ] I didn't come here for - for an anatomy lesson. I know how it works.
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His smile only grows when she struggles to desperately shut him down. It's so cute when she tries this hard. It's like watching a puppy struggle to climb stairs. A flustered Lydia Martin is a rare sight. She could be a violent little pistol when backed up against a wall and he knew this. He was honestly surprised she hadn't tried to go for the throat yet. Which is why he's going to ignore the last few sane thought processes that he actually does possess. ]
Yes. I had hoped you would. Then I suppose you know what comes next right? [ He doesn't even let Lydia respond. He leans down and closer to Lydia. Once their lips make contact he lifts his hand to cup her cheek and opens his mouth just a bit wider. He's not going to push, but he's going to give her the option. Though he's certainly expecting a slap possibly. ]
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And right now, none of it is PG, either. Barely PG-13. She's everything; she's hot, her heart is racing, and her pheromones are running wild, and certainly triggering a social response — a viable one, too, because he's so close to her face and she decides she wants him even closer and then he's there. Then they're kissing, and she's so... relieved. And it's a strange emotion, but it's so strong that she's shaking and barely recognizes any of this as real.
It feels real, though. She's frozen, but they're kissing; she can feel the heat of his mouth and rough of his palm against her cheek, and it's...not awful. It's not even bad. It's almost nice, if not so so wrong, and she should slap him but she doesn't. Doesn't kiss him back immediately, either, because he asked her a question and she has an answer. ] A... A lot of bad things that I'll regret tomorrow, [ she breathes against his mouth. And because she's Lydia Martin, she's always right. ]
...But it's not tomorrow yet.
i'm detouring from my prompt picture, but i don't care.
She pulls back to answer and Peter has to chuckle. She's such a saucy young lady at times. He's never been more certain in his decision to attach himself to her in that way. She was definitely the wise choice. The smartest one of the bunch and yet they waited so long to fill her in on everything. What horrible, horrible friends they were. ] No. It most certainly is not. [ The smile he's exhibiting is positively predatory. He looks more like he wants to eat her alive than fuck her roughly. Though he does really want to do that second one a lot. He's got a feeling she'll know just what to do too.
Peter drops his hand from her cheek and tilts his head backwards. He's make a decision, but it's taking some time to arrive at the end of it. Finally he sighs. ] I could help you out with that--if you want. [ Peter Hale doesn't get on his knees for anyone in other circumstances, but right now he's dropping to his for Lydia Martin. Slowly. Placing a kiss every which way as he goes down. He stops just long enough to pop open the button on her jeans. ] Would you like that?
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He'd justify it by saying that she wanted it, or something just as questionable; he'd contribute to her minor consent issues, but he'd be right. ]
I don't want your help, [ Lydia tells him, but her breath is heavy and her eyes glazed. This is all too much; too much stimulus, too much to take in. She's nervous and flighty, and that makes her all the more sensitive. He pops the button on her jeans and she almost lets out an audible whimper. The compromise is to suck in a breath and distractedly force out: ] It - it always comes with strings attached.