dennystreet | ( time for smutty sunday )

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( time for smutty sunday )

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:

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ also available in dream!forge flavor ]

a | b | c | d | e

[ Eames is, in no uncertain terms, a man who does better with a partner than without one. He gets clingier than he'll admit. Attached. He'll say, of course, that it's all about learning a role, a person, a place. There's a reason for everything.

(Except sometimes that reason is nothing more than want, and what he wants is more than fleeting glances and flirtations. Something real).

But despite however he does better, facts are not desires and the fact sometimes is that there is no partner present. At least not when his eyes are open and he believes what he can see and the other senses that follow.

Irritating.

Tonight is one of those nights. Lonely, listless, and it seems to stretch endlessly in the face of that companionable emptiness. Which is why he's propped up in bed of a shared hotel room, stripped down to nothing, with his eyes firmly closed.

He doesn't traverse dreams. Not tonight, not after the week he's had. ~~Or month, or even year~~. But behind the harsh reality of the lights reflecting off the tangible border of the walls around him is a picture that's quite different. Behind his eyelids waits warm hands, inviting lips, and a sly smile that is an immediate tell that this is nothing but a sweet lie.

But as his own hands do the work of those he imagines, he decides the lie is better than nothing. ]

1 2 3

[ They're heading out toward the Outer Reaches, the ship programmed to take the long way around outside of hyperspace. The fuel levels seem to be holding, and the alarm is set if something flies into their periphery.

All they're left to do now is wait.

Milos (as he's "home" and allowed the name) pulls up out of the cockpit with a tired sigh; there is only so much staring at stars he can do when space is endless and the novelty and reverence has long worn off. He doesn't find Sura in the common area, nor the makeshift kitchen that serves them far more than it probably should.

No, he finds her in their shared quarters, a lucky thing when there's no other space on the ship in which to sleep anyway, half awake and gazing at him from the bed. An eyebrow lifts, but he does not move to close the space. Not quite yet. ]

We should arrive in the early evening tomorrow, barring emergency.