gooseflesh: (Default)
stupid sexy sock ([personal profile] gooseflesh) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2025-07-12 11:37 am

Here are smut pics

smut 💋 picture prompts
top level & reply to others. be inspired!

link 'em:

embed 'em:

shrink 'em:
〚 ⟶rpsmutgifs. 〛
〚 lackinprivacy.⟵ 〛
〚 ⟶nsfw gif dump. 〛


magnums: (it feels like a lifetime.)

[personal profile] magnums 2025-07-14 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
( 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 )
vestigial: commissioned. (âž· 0151)

[personal profile] vestigial 2025-07-15 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
C'mere already—

[ Too long of a day, week, fucking lifetime. Daryl is bad at this still, teeth clicking against Rick's, but he's bolder every time, unashamed of fumbling. A lifetime of ignoring, repressing, icing himself out as survival, and now it boils over hotter and hotter each time he's given permission. Especially easy to fall into it when it's Rick.

Rough, ink-dotted hands paw at the other man's belt. Daryl kisses him with no finesse but overheated passion, licking into his mouth, sucking his tongue, enjoying the burn of wiry facial hair crunching into his own, against his skin. Sometimes there are demons, because of course there are— they've been with him for decades, they've made homes in him. His brother's voice, and when he's less lucky, his father's. Either one would kill him for this. No hyperbole. Sometimes it sends him cold, and other times it's just... well, people die over stupid shit all the time, this seems pretty worth it. ]


Yeah?

[ Just checking in, with his palm flat against the front of Rick's underwear beneath his jeans. ]
magnums: (for a million days.)

[personal profile] magnums 2025-07-17 06:14 pm (UTC)(link)
( these small moments are important because they're small--because it's not a life on the line, because it's not a hundred lives on the line, because it's not someone demanding guidance from him, or responsibility, or to have him shoulder the added burden of another mistake. it's little but it matters, wrenches something inside of him that has felt distant, and lonely, a part of him that always felt mismatched with lori, like she could have never accepted a moment like this. could have never accepted that sometimes words aren't needed, that sometimes he doesn't have them at the ready: at least not when it comes to his feelings, complicated and murky as they are.

it's easy to play leader, like that. it's easy to find the words there. harder when it's just him.

and daryl's never asked for words, not really. he says c'mere like it's all that needs to be said, and maybe it is, because it propels them together in a kiss that's heated, and messy, the kind that always makes him wonder if he needs to shave down his beard a little to keep them both from getting kiss-burnt skin. he doesn't have to explain himself, or explain how good it feels, or how much he wants it; he can just exist in the moment, here, with him. )


Yeah. ( he agrees, rough and heady, amusement thick in his throat despite just the single hum of the word. ) You too?

( because touch is a tricky thing, sometimes, with daryl, and even if they don't need words, he likes to know that it's not going to clash against anything else--his hands grip at daryl's hips and anchor them together clumsily, messily, and his shoulders skim the dirty wall at his back, deciding just to lean into it.

he doesn't always have to be in charge. he tries to remind himself of that when he can; even so, his fingers tighten, knuckles bending, rough hands glossing up beneath the end of daryl's vest for naked skin. )
vestigial: commissioned. (âž· 0148)

[personal profile] vestigial 2025-07-20 05:01 am (UTC)(link)
[ He gets Rick. Without words, he's always gotten Rick, and that's freaked him out a little over time. It's forced him to reckon with a number of things, some large, some small. But right now, right here, it doesn't matter much. They're just here, just themselves, they make sense in one moment, and he trusts Rick enough not to waste any energy worrying or second-guessing himself. ]

Yeah, [ yet another echo, affirming. Sometimes touch is tricky. Tonight, he's good. Everything feels warm and easy in him, no demons whispering in his ear, no instinct to flinch away at the hand diving under the worn leather of his vest.

Kinda sweet of Rick to ask. Occasionally he thinks back to those early days, Shane and Lori being so frustrated with the man, and Daryl always thinking—

It's so obvious, it's always so obvious, what Rick was feeling or communicating. Maybe Daryl's just used to having to read people, maybe it's like tracking a deer. Who fucking knows. But he knows Rick is thoughtful, and insightful. Daryl kisses him more, and pets him through his underwear, less hurried now that they're leaning together against the wall. Settled, but still intent.

All good, all clear, just for now. ]
magnums: (losing my dignity.)

[personal profile] magnums 2025-07-22 08:38 pm (UTC)(link)
( charming, in its own right. part of the reason why he feels the way he feels about the whole thing, because beyond the mutual respect, beyond the mutual strength, beyond the camaraderie that's been forged out of all the days and weeks and months they've spent together, seeing the best and the worst out of each other--there's that soft heart underneath it all, there's the charming way that daryl responds to things, there's the pull of warm, wrought affection that doesn't always have to do with the way that his hands touch in all the right places, or how he leans his weight into his.

not that he can say any of the attraction doesn't help. the fact that it comes so easily, easier than he would have expected--

it's something to explore within himself, but not now. daryl's right, and more often than not, he needs to get out of his head: and keeps himself out of it, when it comes to times like these. small and gentle and just for them: for the breath he spares against daryl's mouth, splitting the kiss with a throaty hum of encouragement.

he's careful with the clasps. at this point they might just need to sew on new ones; his hands flex upward, knuckles bending, snapping apart the front of daryl's vest to bare his chest to wandering hands, but they only palm out across in brief appreciation before climbing up around him to his back, digging his fingertips in there with purpose. )


Keep going. ( encouragement that daryl doesn't need, anymore, but he gives it rather because it's his own feelings, his own reassurance that it's safe for his tongue to tangle with the words. ) I want you.

( let daryl find the way, this time. he's hard beneath that hand, hips tensed, legs locked like he knows he'll have to keep himself upright; all good, still, all clear, but he wouldn't be mad, no, wouldn't be upset if daryl's fingers sunk beneath the fabric all the way. his mouth says as much, curved into another kiss, messy and warm and nearly smiling. )