smutprompts: (Default)
smutprompts ([personal profile] smutprompts) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2014-08-03 11:25 am

Smut Picture Prompt


the smut picture prompt meme


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.


 THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY AND NSFW.

 

        link to an image:                                embed an image:                control width and height:
                 
 
nothungry: (g)

[personal profile] nothungry 2014-08-04 03:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's his third (fourth? he's already losing track) night in her flat, and the first that he's managed to make such a nuisance of himself spilling out of her little spare room that he's been moved into her bedroom. He's restless, which is the source of most of his obnoxious behavior - at least, the bits over and above his usual obnoxiousness - and moving rooms doesn't help. He's coming to realize just how little he likes the idea of keeping under the radar for the next however long it is Mycroft deems necessary. If he's got to stay anonymous, he'd rather not do it in London. He'd rather go somewhere, anywhere, where he can walk the streets, explore, be part of something.

He's lonely. It's an exceedingly strange feeling.

It might be why he leaves his new digs at one-thirty in the morning, tramping out to the kitchen in his pajama pants; perhaps he's looking for the cat, or just the television, or some other temporary connection. He winds up at the refrigerator, staring into its bright interior, building one of his usual narratives out of its contents. Of course, he already knows Molly; it's cheating, a bit. It's also unsatisfying. There's no one here.

But at least he can haul over the bin and start chucking any expired items he finds in the recesses of her fridge. It's not high-brow work, nor is it particularly quiet, but it's something. ]
theonewhocounted: (Not pleased)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2014-08-04 03:26 am (UTC)(link)
[Is it only the fourth night? Feels like forever to her. She knew sharing her space with Sherlock wasn't going to be a picnic, but she underestimated how disruptive to her life it would be. He's in almost constant motion or he's stone still, silently brooding, sucking all the air out of the already too small flat. In between those two things, he's got his nose in all her stuff, he's sniffing disapprovingly at the outfits she puts on for work, he's reading all her mail (thankfully mostly junk), he's hogging her laptop, and he's taken over her bedroom. He's lucky he's still gorgeous and that somehow she still finds a lot of his bullshit endearing.

(She's just given in to the fact that she's completely mental.)

Being woken up at 1:30am after working a double, however, is testing even her herculean tolerance for Sherlock's shenanigans. She untangles herself from her sheets in the stuffy spare room and doesn't even pull on a dressing gown over her tank top and shorts before she heads off in the direction of the almost rhythmic "thwacking" sound coming from the kitchen.

The only light is coming from the open fridge that's silhouetting his lanky frame. She squints at the bright light and huffs as something else from the fridge goes into the bin. She's going to be really angry if any of that food is still good.]


Do you have to do that right now?

[She sounds more tired than anything else. She needs to start working on her angry/annoyed voice she thinks.]
Edited 2014-08-04 03:54 (UTC)
nothungry: (c)

[personal profile] nothungry 2014-08-04 03:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Sherlock glances up at the sound of her voice. All he sees over the top of the refrigerator door is darkness, his eyes having become accustomed to the light. ]

Not if you're awake – no.

[ She's much more interesting than bad yogurt. He shuts the door – still swimming in black and gray now that the only light is coming in from the windows – and makes his way over to where he supposes she is. By the time he reaches her, he can see at least her outline, the parts of her illuminated by the streetlights. He sets his hands on her shoulders just to make sure – yes, good, all there – and doesn't remove them for a moment or two. Strange to take comfort in the presence of another person, when normally he considers company at best useful and at worst deeply vexing. ]

You should check before you do the shopping. You had two unfinished cartons of eggs.

[ He crosses his arms over his chest as her face begins to stand out to him more clearly - tired, irritated, a little bemused. Natural enough. He doesn't have the grace to apologize; and, really, he isn't sorry. ]
theonewhocounted: (serious)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2014-08-04 04:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's still too sleep addled to really understand what he means. There's a slightly confused look on her face and then he closes the door and she can't see much except his dark form coming towards her. The last thing she expects is for his hands to come to rest on her shoulders though. They're cold from the fridge and cause a slight chill to go through her body (Yes, it's the cold, nothing more. At least that's what she'll tell herself.)]

Thanks for the tip.

[It's completely deadpan. Her eyes are starting to adjust to the dark more and the features of his face are sorting themselves out. He doesn't look sorry, nor does she expect him to. If this were any other time and he was waking her up in the middle of the night cleaning her fridge, she might actually go off on him, but considering he "died" four days ago and lost everyone in his life he cares about, her annoyance is deflating. He's still going to owe her big time for all this someday though.]
nothungry: (Default)

[personal profile] nothungry 2014-08-05 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
Not really a tip, so much as - well, call it what you like.

[ Surely observations about shortcomings of which everyone should already be aware are complaints, but he doubts it'll register at the moment. She's looking a bit blank. He's not completely oblivious to the time, or to her sleep schedule, and he knows he's very likely at risk of losing her to the bedroom soon enough. It wouldn't normally be a problem. He doesn't need anything, after all. She can't run him any errands, fetch him any specimens, help him around any obstacles.

And yet. ]


You're off tomorrow, aren't you?

[ It's a casual questions. His hands slide down to her elbows; he can feel the cool dissipating into her skin. He rather hopes it will wake her up. ]
theonewhocounted: (Sees you)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2014-08-05 03:01 am (UTC)(link)
[Her brow furrows together at the question. It's rare Sherlock knows anyone else's schedule (and often his own). Although....he might keep track of her's because knowing when she's working means he's likely to get something from her.]

Yes. [It's drawn out a bit as she feels suspicious about his intentions behind this question.]. And I was really hoping to be able to stay away from the mor...

[Her thought is cut off when his hands slide down her bare arms. Physical contact from Sherlock is rare. She can count on one hand the times he has ever touched her. The prolonged contact is even rarer.

If he wants her awake, then he's got it. Goosebumps rise on her skin and she once again tells herself it's only from the chill of his fingers. She hopes it's too dark in there for him to be cataloging her pupil dilation.]
nothungry: (l)

[personal profile] nothungry 2014-08-08 04:26 pm (UTC)(link)
No – that is, yes. Of course. Ridiculous hour to be popping over to the hospital.

[ It is now, anyway, when he hasn't got any need for her to do so – certainly he wouldn't have scrupled to send her back to the lab at any time of day or night, a couple of weeks ago. But now he wants her here.

And she's not running back to bed. Politeness? Possibly. Molly makes gestures at hospitality he'd never so much as consider. But he can also feel the slight shift in her posture, the change in her skin. Even if he couldn't see – and the lights from the street are almost, almost enough – this would be quite enough to be going on.

He moves one hand slowly back up her arm, his fingertips sliding flat along the skin and then over her shoulder blade. It's light, just testing. His eyes are focused on her mouth, the part of her face whose movements he can see most easily, slightly darker as it is against her skin.

He reckons it all up, and – well. If he does this, he thinks there's a good chance she'll stay. ]


I don't want you to go back to work.
theonewhocounted: (Sees you)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2014-08-08 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
[She opens her mouth to tell him she didn't mean right now. Right now in the middle of the night she is definitely not going to the hospital, but she isn't going into the morgue on her day off either.

Instead, nothing comes out because his hand is moving over her skin again. Her mouth stays open as she looks at him and tries to figure out what is going on. She wants to look down at his hand, but she's afraid if she moves, he'll realize what he's doing and move away from her.

Or...maybe he knows what he's doing.

She unconsciously licks her lips and doesn't realize it.]


Wha...why?

[Her brain can't figure out what's going on because what it immediately on a dinosaur level thinks is going on is in direct conflict with the evolved part of her brain that has common sense and knowledge of Sherlock.]
nothungry: (Default)

[personal profile] nothungry 2014-08-10 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Sherlock considers honesty, for a moment, or what he thinks is honestly - because I'll have nothing to do - but decides a little more specificity is warranted. He doesn't want her throwing him suggestions or excuses; what he wants is to keep her here. And he knows how to do that. He has for a while. ]

Because I want the company.

[ That's probably closer to the truth of the matter than he knows or would be willing to admit. He's recognized that he's lonely, but he hasn't made peace with it, and certainly not with the fact that any individual person might be the solution.

But the more he thinks about this, the more he thinks it might be an excellent use of time. It's something new, something different. It will guarantee him companionship. And, as his fingers slip over her shoulder to trail along her collar bone, landing gently in the hollow of her throat, he thinks it might even be worth pursuing in its own right. Like everything with which he has relatively little experience, it will pose its own set of challenges. But goodness knows he could use the distraction. ]


I'd rather you didn't go back to bed, either.
theonewhocounted: (Looking down)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2014-08-10 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[He's still touching her and it's distracting. The rational part of her brain is trying to break through and set off the warning bells - Of course he's touching you! He wants something from you. This is what he does.. But she's not listening right now. Sherlock is tracing my bloody collar bones. Call back later. Besides, in all the times he's used his charms to manipulate her, it was never like this.

Or at least that's what she'll tell herself.]


Oh...well, I guess I could stay up for a little while since I don't have to work in the morning.

[Because when has she ever said no to this man? Why would she start now?

And he's admitted he wants her company. She has all of his attention at this moment. It's rare and she's not about to turn it down. Although, she does expect that as soon as he's gotten her to agree to keeping him company, he will pull away, tell her all about some experiment they can do together and act like he never laid his hands on her.]


nothungry: (c)

[personal profile] nothungry 2014-08-11 10:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ An experiment's not too far off the mark. Sherlock knows he wants another person, but that's about as far as his pride has let him go. If asked precisely what he wanted, he would likely come up blank. He hasn't got a case – no work to talk about – nothing except a massive tangle of about a hundred things he most emphatically doesn't want to talk about at all. So it's a big yes to companionship and distraction, and a big no to any substantive conversation.

He's a pretty new hand at this particular alternative, but he ought to be able to rely on a certain degree of biological imperative to show him the ropes. She's attractive, more than he's bothered to imagine when not piled under sweaters and labcoats. ]


Thank you.

[ His smile is genuinely pleased, if a little subdued, a touch distant. He's found an answer. His hand drops gently to her side, drawing the fabric of her shirt between his fingers, gauging the way it feels before slipping under – barely – just enough to leave his fingertips resting against her skin. Waiting. His eyes move up from her side to her throat, to her face again, and his voice s low. ]

You don't mind, do you?
theonewhocounted: (Sees you)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2014-08-11 10:41 pm (UTC)(link)
It's no bother.

[She feels his hand move and she thinks that what she assumed is coming to fruition - he is pulling away once he got what he wanted. Except that in the next moment she realizes he isn't. What he does is both surprising and somewhat not (her dinosaur brain is shouting Ah ha! I told you so!). But mostly she is stunned. And warm. The hand on her skin is burning her and she can feel the heat rise into her cheeks as he speaks.]

What? [The question doesn't register at first.] No. I just...is this...what you want?

[She's dreamt of him being interested in her like this for years, but she never thought he actually would be. And now of all times. Or maybe now is the time. There is no other. And he's in this limbo and she's all he has right now and is she okay being "the last woman on earth" as it were?]

nothungry: (Default)

[personal profile] nothungry 2014-08-20 05:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She's not pulling back, he notices; not balking the way he would expect, if there were a problem. But he has limited experience from which to draw inferences, and he's going as much on intuition as anything. That's strange, novel, a little intriguing. It's exactly what he needs: something new to navigate. Learn. His mouth presses into a line as he considers her, tries to decide if the slight darkening in her face is color or just shadow. ]

Yes. Yes – I think so.

[ It seems promising, at any rate. In the absence of objection, he slides his hand further beneath her shirt, curving around the turn of her waist to rest against the small of her back. Her skin feels warm, soft; and as his fingers move gently, slightly along an inch or so of her spine, he realizes he'd like to feel more of it. He drops his other hand to rest at her waist, and urges her – it's not quite pulling, just a suggestive inward turn of his fingers – closer to him. Leaning in, he presses his mouth very carefully to the hair at her temple. Can one feel someone else's pulse this way? Not really – his own is blocking it out. He breathes in. ]

What about you?
theonewhocounted: (Sees you)

[personal profile] theonewhocounted 2014-08-20 06:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's not sure she could pull back even if she wanted to, in shock as she is. But of course she doesn't want to.]

Really? [she squeaks out and hates how it sounds, cringing at it right after.]

I mean, I...this is...a surprise.

[She stutters and tries to keep up as his hands move further against her skin and then he's actually pulling her closer. Her hands come up on their own accord and rest against his chest. She's not pushing him away, she just doesn't know what else to do with them. It's only then that she remembers he's shirtless, the warm skin under her hands another surprise, another assault to her senses that makes her think she must be dreaming.

Sherlock is half naked and pressing his hands against her skin and pulling her closer. That is a lot to take in at 1:30am.]


Yes!

[The answer to his question comes out sounding more eager than she wants, making her blush deeper.]

I mean...of course. It's...you.

[She closes her eyes as he kisses her head. Does he not realize how she feels about him? He must have deduced her feelings by now. She feels like an open book.]
Edited 2014-08-20 19:28 (UTC)