- ̗̀ we'll all float on

⟐ solomon emsworth thirty-nine owner and head barista at talk is cheap

[flawlessgentlemen]

Tom Hardy photographed by Alasdair McLellan for ARENA HOMME PLUS (2010)

[solomonemsworth]

noahfischcr‌:

“That’s the thing,” Noah murmured with another chuckle. The touch was a comfort in and of itself, especially around the back of his neck - it was a grounding spot for him, one that made him weak in the knees, and he struggled to hide his utterly blissful response to the contact. Likely some of it slipped through on his face - faintly fluttering eyelashes, a slight breathiness to his tone - but it was clear he was trying to hold it back, to make sure he didn’t make Solomon uncomfortable.

“You don’t make me feel like shit with what you say. Anymore, at least. I get it. You’re an asshole.” He shot a look at him from the corner of his eye, lips twitching into a smirk. “But a funny one. Good company. The kind you want on your side, even if he roasts you all the damn time.”

He assembled the burgers, each with a thick slice of cheddar he cut off an actual block, thank you very much, before scattering some green peppers on his plate. Let it never be said he didn’t try to eat a vegetable. Then, balancing the two plates on one arm as only a former waiter could do, he snagged Solomon around the neck with his other arm, inside of his elbow fitting right against the top of his spine.

“C’mon, grab my beer.” Noah scarcely gave him opportunity to do that, guiding Solomon along all the way to the living room, where he sat. “Can’t eat at the table. Gives me a rash. Too many doilies. But if you spill something on this couch, I’ll kick your ass.”

solomon eyed noah for several moments, brow cocking a little. “name calling when i’m tryna comfort you? cheeky,” he chided, though there was no real heat to his tone. sometimes he did overstep, he thought, got too comfortable in his banter and ended up putting a foot in his mouth. he’d worked on that a bit, in his life - gotten a lot better at knowing when to quit it. he’d been awful in his youth, really lad-ish and loud. gross. 

“yeah yeah, alright. don’t get too sentimental, eh? might prefer the name callin’ to the sweet shit,” he said, giving noah a tiny push before he moved to pick up his beer again. he slugged back what was left, setting the empty bottle on the counter after a moment of looking for the recycling. whatever. he’d do it later. 

solomon’d just stolen another one of noah’s beers from the fridge when the bloke looped an arm around his neck. he let out a little noise of protest, the hold noah had on him yanking him down just a touch. 

“careful of my old bones,” he protested, shrugging noah off when he begun dragging him to the living room. he plucked up noah’s beer as he passed it, popping the top off of his own with the rim of noah’s bottle. took a sort of skill, that did - not the really the coolest one, though. spoke more of the number of beers he’d sunk over the years than it did of any true talent. bit sad. 

“a rash, huh? excuse me if i don’t make the same cream offer,” solomon taunted, sitting down heavily, bringing his beer to his mouth as he set noah’s down. “i’ll do my best, pet. use all my good manners - would’a brought my bib if i’d known.” 

[solomonemsworth]

camelliapatton‌:

@solomonemsworth

A couple of weeks had passed before Cam stumbled upon the coffee shop again, purely by accident. She wandered a lot, as her days were filled with emptiness and boredom, exploring the nooks and crannies of the town without a care or transient worry. Her days were always the same; wake up at twelve, pop a couple pills down her throat with day-old coffee, shower if she felt like it, and then leave her apartment, scouring the streets for any source of entertainment. She rarely ever came across the same place twice in her travels, but she figured it was fate that her feet put her on the cafe’s doorstop. 

By the time she entered, it was closer to three, which meant that it was mostly empty, save for a couple people engrossed with whatever was going on in their laptops. It was easy to spot him, with his quiet, looming presence. Hopping onto a barstool, she leaned on the counter with her chin cupped in both hands, giving the man a mischievous grin. “Hi. ‘Member me?” It was a rhetorical question, one that she certainly would’ve been offended by if he didn’t remember her. 

Glancing around, she looked at the menu, squinting at the words. “I never understood the difference between a latte and a cappuccino,” she voiced. “I guess… give me the sweetest thing on the menu. Tons of whipped cream on top. Do you do whipped cream? If you don’t, you could just put a shit ton of sugar and milk into it; it’d probably create the same effect.” 

it’d been a quiet day - a nice change, after a spate of hectic ones. solomon had even managed to get some paperwork done, set up on one of the corner tables with his laptop and a coffee like all the other assholes in the place. he’d sorted payroll, done some accounts. boring shit but fairly important - he suffered through it all with minimal smoke breaks, something he thought commendable. 

getting back behind the machine hadn’t been all that exciting, either - there wasn’t much to do, in all honesty. he’d sent the part-timer home, leaving him and tyler to finish things up. tyler had settled herself in to fold napkins and polish cutlery and go on her phone in a way she thought was sneaky. solomon had let it slide, polishing bits of the machine after he’d wiped down tables. exciting stuff. 

his head lifted when he heard the door open - it took him several moments to place the vaguely familiar face, by which time she’d managed to seat herself at the bar. “vaguely,” he demurred, really just being difficult because he could. he eyed her, propping his weight on the counter with both broad, coffee stained hands. 

“you here to make trouble, huh?” 

he needn’t have asked - the moment he did she started in on what type of coffee she’d like. bloody hell. his brows rose just slightly as she spoke, mouth pushing slightly to one side under his thatch of beard and ‘stache.

“cappuccino has more foam,” he explained blandly - the easiest way to put it, really. he didn’t bother to get into the intricacies of coffee that often - he didn’t really buy into it all that much. was a bit pedantic, some of it. “you’re gonna rot the teeth outta your head, you are.”

[raccooninthegirlslockerroom]

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[evrythingsucks]

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[solomonemsworth]

evelynhawthorne‌:

A quiet moment. Not for the first time, Evelyn found herself wondering if this was common vernacular that she hadn’t heard before or him demanding her silence rudely. Either way, she supposed she’d see. It was all a matter of play, wasn’t it? One step forward, one step back, a complicated dance with a new partner to see who led, who followed.

Even as a thrill leapt over her skin at the touch of his hand, she fought not to show it anywhere other than her eyes. He leaned in, and the moment his tongue pressed into her mouth she dragged him in as close as she could with the hand on his shirt, humming against his lips.

Never could tell just by looking at someone how they’d kiss, how your bodies would meet in the middle. But something about Solomon worked for her. How much shorter he was, how she could practically yank him onto his tiptoes so he had to work to kiss her, how his hands made her feel like the softest creature on the planet.

She drank from his lips, subtly pushing for control of the kiss little by little, until she pulled back and huffed with amusement. “Be a gentleman and help me up onto this counter,” she murmured, already putting her hands on his shoulders and arching on her heels in an attempt to sit on the edge, to pull him where she wanted him.

solomon was more than happy to let himself be yanked forward, pressing himself up close to evelyn. despite the heels he still felt somewhat large in comparison - his chin was tilted up but the press of her body against his illustrated their difference in widths. it weren’t bad, all in all - she were warm in his hands, the bell-flare of her hips just cushy enough for him to dent with his fingers. lovely. her mouth was hot and open against his, her tongue pressing forward with just as much force as his own, underlying the heat he suspected had begun sparking in her own belly. 

his hands flexed at her hips, sliding upwards a bit to grip at the narrower part of her waist, lace slipping against the velvet of her skin. she was warm and soft and plush under his hands - something he greatly appreciated. he could only imagine what those warm, plush bits would feel like under his mouth - a lovely little thought, really. one he was keen to explore once he’d gotten his fill of her mouth. 

solomon sucked in a soft breath when they broke apart, tongue wetting his lips before it slipped back into his mouth. he met her gaze, eyes only half open, mouth quirking up at her words. 

“m’nothin’ if not a bloody gentleman,” he muttered, hands squeezing around her waist. that grip was enough to hitch her up without too much effort - the weight of her sat easy in his palms despite the slippy nature of her lace. a tensing in his forearms and a twitch of muscle under short sleeve and she was up, bum perched on the counter edge. his hands slid from her waist, down the silky outsides of her thighs to hook into the crooks of her knees. he used that grip to manhandle her thighs apart, stepping into the space between them, mouth finding the slope of her neck. 

solomon could feel the light pulse of her heart beneath his mouth, jaw flexing to bite a short, tart kiss against her collar. his hands skated back up the outsides of her thigh, relishing the soft skin beneath his palms, lacy negligee riding up beneath his fingers, hitching up to the crease where her thighs met her hip. his mouth skated back up along her jaw, breath hot, teeth just brushing on an occasion or two. 

“you gonna give me a checklist or can i make it up as i go?” he queried - he figured she had some sort of itinerary she wanted completed before their little interaction was through. he didn’t mind fulfilling it - certainly didn’t mind. 

[solomonemsworth]

camelliapatton‌:

His answer was straightforward enough, although there was a miniscule part of her (one that she suppressed and refused to face) that’d wished he’d felt sorry for her anyways. Or maybe he did, and he hid it behind that stony face of his. It didn’t matter; she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had felt an ounce of sympathy for her. But then again, she’d gone so long without it, thrived off of her conniving nature and fuck yous that she wasn’t entirely sure she could unveil the small piece of her that could bare her heart without stipulation. That seemed immensely difficult. And anything difficult wasn’t worth doing, in her book.

So all she said was, “Good,” the word waterlogged with the weight of her past emotions, oppressed and then repressed to the back of her mind. She wondered, sometimes, what it was like, to not be such a fuck-up, to have a life outside of her 300-square foot room, to not rely on whether her sister would feel generous enough to deposit money in her bank account next week. She liked art, once. It felt like a lifetime ago that she even picked up a pen to draw.

But that was neither here nor there, and like she did, always, she shoved the painful memory away, locked it into some closet that she wouldn’t have to look at anytime soon. And she floated back to reality, giving the man a half-hearted smirk that was more sheepish than mischievous. “Hope I didn’t bore you to death,” she answered, crossing her arms.

She figured, the way he was still stony-faced, that he’d wanted her to leave for a while now (after all, he didn’t exactly consent to hearing her sob story with all of the acidity of a young girl grown too fast) and she put her hands behind her back, half-stepping, half-skipping backwards away from him. He’d had enough for the day, she presumed, and judging by her apron, she figured he’d be around the coffee shop if she’d ever want to pester him again. But before she could turn away and leave, she reached into her pocket, revealing her little engraved Zippo, and threw it to him. “Here. Figured you could use another light after hearing my shit story.” She gave a flick of her wrist, in a salute-wave combination. “Don’t lose it.”

solomon watched the young woman from under lowered brow, fiddling absently with the beard at the point of his chin. it was a thoughtless kind of gesture - a fidget he didn’t even think about, or really even notice. his mother hated all his little fidgets - the beard coddling worst of all. more often than not he felt pressured into shaving it, giving his mother a chance to coo over her ‘handsome man’ when he was clean shaven. she was a difficult woman, his mother - seemed to be something he inherited, the difficult nature. 

“good,” he mirrored, voice quiet, as if speaking mostly to himself. he pursed his lips slightly, drinking the last of the coffee from his little cup to fill the space between their words. conversation suddenly seemed very thin on the ground - maybe he’d gone and put his foot in it without even realising it. given her an answer she didn’t really want - or, conversely, not given her an answer at all. that seemed plausible - solomon was sometimes a man of very few words, something that drove some folk up the wall. 

“i’ve had worse,” he assured her with a small, half-twist of his lips - as much of a smile as someone could get from him on an afternoon where he was on the clock. not bad, really - almost enough to bring out the lines at the corner of his eye, etched there from years of more forceful smiles. she seemed to be drawing things to a close, though - solomon dropped his coffee carrying hand, empty cup hanging from one finger, knuckle hooked through the fine eye of the handle, barely fitting. he was surprised by the sudden glint of silver shooting towards him - he caught it with his free hand, silently thankful for the years of rugby training that’d sharpened his hand-eye abilities. 

“right. thanks,” he murmured, opening his palm for a moment to blink at the zippo before tucking it into the pocket of his apron - a safer place than any to stash it. “i’ll guard it with my life.”

a hand lifted in a half-hearted wave - no movement, just a spread palm and fingers before he let it drop again. 

“take care of yourself, eh pet? look both ways before you cross the street, all that gaffe.” 

[solomonemsworth]

noahfischcr‌:

“Yeah, yeah, I can tell you’re listening so thoughtfully,” Noah fired back, lips still quirked. This was fine. The sooner he understood that Solomon threw a fuss that he never planned to cash in, he decided, the better.

As he babied the burgers, it took him a long while to figure out that he was wholly…content right now, actually. He laid buns out on plates, and considered the loneliness that had begun to plague him most days, how it had fallen away. He covered the burgers in condiments and fresh vegetables that he’d sliced earlier - a foolproof way to make sure he actually cooked tonight instead of eating ramen for the eightieth time - and recognized the subtle distance he felt with others falling more and more away.

“Y’know, I’m really glad you’re here.” If Noah felt something, why hide it? That was his prerogative. “Work’s been crazy, and, uh…I’ve had some…weird things happen I guess?” He waved it off. “A guy I was interested in who I keep fucking up with because I’m too much. Another dude who I was really hitting it off with who just disappeared on me suddenly. Busy friends.”

He leaned into the counter, lips quirked in more of a sad smile than anything. “I-I know it’s not your first choice to be here, but…it’s nice. Not having to be alone for the fifteenth night in a row. Not having to think I’m just…badly made, making everybody leave.”

A pause. And then Noah chuckled. “Sorry. You didn’t come here for this either. No wonder I’m after the weed.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, groaned good naturedly, then took another swig of his beer. “What do you eat with burgers? What do you call them, crisps? I’ve got some carrots and green peppers sliced to, if you’d rather some green. Think there’s maybe an apple tucked away too.”

“i always do,” solomon chimed, cheeky grin quite clearly visible despite the beer he lifted to his lips. he sipped at it a moment, eyes following noah as he pottered about, putting things together. it were nice enough, he thought, hanging out like this. the banter was free flowing, as seemed to be the beer - two things solomon greatly appreciated. a spanner, however, was thrown in the works the moment noah started getting glum. 

solomon’s mouth twisted to one side and he pushed off the counter, padding back over to noah. he cupped a hand to noah’s shoulder, a friendly, comforting sort of gesture. he could be quite the physical person, little discomfort in touching someone he’d begun to get to know. his hand shifted after a moment, cupping over the back of noah’s neck, something like a hug without a hug. 

“s’alright, pet. none of that, eh?” he said, shaking his head. “you’re made just fine. don’t take anythin’ i say to heart, yeah? take it all with a big fuckin’ grain of salt.” his hand slipped down as he spoke, rubbing between noah’s shoulder blades briefly some sort of sympathetic pat before it fell away completely. 

“you’re a good lad. i’m a good judge of character, me. my first choice’d be a night with jennifer lopez so don’t feel too bad about comin’ in second, alright?”

bit of a bad joke, but he tried. didn’t want his banter getting noah down, not really. solomon didn’t purposefully like to make people bad - maybe those that deserved it, but thus far noah hadn’t done anything to warrant it. even with all his flirtation and bad bloody innuendo. 

“y’mean chips? i’m good with it just like this - i’m a simple man, me. don’t stress.” 

[solomonemsworth]

jxckdaley‌:

Jack looked at himself in the mirror, studying the forming bruise on his cheekbone. He cleaned his nose up quickly as the bleeding had stopped and thankfully nothing was broken (lucky for him, considering it was the second time he’d been clocked in the face in a week.) His lip was still the most tender, probably due to the exposure of his mouth, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

He turned to Solomon, crossing his arms, still in his too-tight jacket. He looked down at his legs, visible since he was in shorts, and shrugged with a smile.

“Can’t say I do,” Jack said, “Blokes. Weird or otherwise.” He looked up at Solomon, winking an eye for awhile, as if he was trying to focus on the man better.

“What about you?” he said, grin subsiding slightly, “You come up to weird guy’s apartments often to enjoy mood lighting? Or something else?”

solomon folded his arms across his chest, resting his drink on his forearm, tapping a ringed finger absently against the side of it. his head cocked to one side, eyes meeting jack’s in the mirror - he lifted one brow slightly, mouth twisting a little in the barest hint of a smile. he hid it with a few sips of his drink, circling the ice in the glass after he’d drunk his fill. 

solomon followed jack’s gaze when the man turned, brow cocking ever higher at the glace to his kneecaps before they dripped back to his face. “so i’m your first, yeah? how sweet,” solomon teased, punctuating his words with another sip of gin. it all went down almost too easy - like water, pretty much. solomon hummed a low noise in his throat, shoulders shifting in a shrug. 

“occasionally,” he demurred, offering nothing else on the subject. difficult. 

[solomonemsworth]

evelynhawthorne‌:

He made her wait. That much was shocking enough. Belle Goodman had never had to wait for a man - if she did, then she could wield her paddle, her whip, her flogger, until he apologized and begged for her forgiveness. Evelyn Hawthorne? Apparently she had to wait.

Part of her still itched to make him pay. And perhaps she would even still.

“Thoughtful of you,” she drawled. A thumb trailed over Solomon’s thick bottom lip before pushing gently inside, feeling the slick warmth that greeted her. The pad of her thumb rubbed over his tongue, like she was considering gagging him with her own fingers, seeing how deep he could take her before he gave.  “Downright welcoming, honestly. Where were you when I needed a housewarming gift?”

She withdrew her thumb, but only so she could lean in and tug at his bottom lip with her teeth. Her tongue slid out to lave over it with a faint hum. “Show me what this mouth can do, sweetheart,” Evelyn murmured, her mouth brushing his with each spoken word. “Give me my guarantee that it’ll ruin me.”

“m’known for that,” solomon drawled, though his words were cut off by the sweep of her thumb against his lower lip. his mouth twitched up at the corner, a barely there smile - his brows also twitched when that thumb was pressed into his mouth. he hadn’t really been expecting that - it weren’t a bad surprise, truth be told. but it was a bit of a surprise. 

his tongue flexed a little under her touch, curving a little to cup at the pad of her thumb. he met her gaze steadily, the momentary surprise having subsided. he wasn’t a stranger to this sort of situation - though usually he was the one putting his thumbs in peoples mouths, this wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation to him. he liked to play the field, solomon did. put the vers in versatile, he did. 

his mouth softened a bit at the press of her teeth to his lower lip - he let her tug it out, watching her, half-interested, from under heavy lids. a short breath huffed through his nose at her words - bit dramatic dialogue, he thought - and his hand slid to cup the nape of her neck, fingers curved over it, thumb held straight to press up behind her ear. 

“give me a quiet moment and i’ll see what i can do, eh?” solomon said, voice fairly conversational for someone speaking almost directly into another person’s mouth. he could be fairly unflappable at times, that solomon. 

his conversational moment was over, though, as quickly as it’d begun. his chin tilted, plush swell of his mouth finding evelyn’s good and proper. the first moment of the kiss was chaste, in context. almost like a moment taken for pleasantries, for hands shaken before a football match. that soft moment was lost, though, with the parting of solomon’s lips, tongue slipping out to lick hot and wet between evelyn’s own lips, hand pinned at her neck. hell for bloody leather seemed to be evelyn’s default setting, which solomon was more than happy to return with more of the same.  

[dailytomhardy]

[solomonemsworth]

noahfischcr‌:

“Never had such an unappreciative man when I give a show.” Noah touched his chest, mouth dropping in utter offense. “The audacity. Starting to think you don’t like me at all.”

He held his hand over the pan, testing the heat, then lobbed a bit of butter in to melt it down. “Listen, if your palate mattered to you, then he wouldn’t be your ex, would he?” Noah drawled. “No, sounds like your brain’s more important to you than your palate. Which begs the question why you’re still here. But I’m not gonna complain.”

Burgers hit the lifted ridges, and Noah reclaimed his beer, taking a long drink of his own. “Anyway, if you can’t appreciate good ass burgers, we can’t be friends. Burgers aren’t supposed to be one of those foods plated with truffle and served with a sprig of parsley, fuck. You’re supposed to sink your teeth in them and get grease all over your fingers and eat enough butter to clog your arteries in one fell swoop.”

“'bout time you cottoned on,” solomon deadpanned, fixing noah with another lifted brow look. he was sure this kid was gonna deepen the wrinkles he already bloody had - between him and jack solomon’d look 50 within the fortnight. probably feel older, too - maybe he should start planning for bloody retirement. 

“hey, i can serve someone divorce papers and still wanna eat nice food - fuckin’ duality, mate. or somethin’,” solomon retorted, shaking her head. “i’m a glutton for punishment, clearly. i think i’m gonna start considerin’ this charity work, y’know? then at least it’ll be good for my conscience if nothing else.” 

“hey, hey. parsley’s great - don’t knock it. but ah, thanks for the sermon, pastor. i’ll be sure to take it all to heart.”

[solomonemsworth]

noahfischcr‌:

“Natural goddamn charisma, my ass,” Noah fired back. “Think I’m just finally starting to get the way of you. And now I’ve got you here in my lair. There’s no escape. Muahaha.” He didn’t even try to really make a laugh - practically just dryly spoke the syllables.

This was more fun, honestly, playing back and forth without a lick of shame, trusting now that Solomon wasn’t going to turn tail and flee. Was the flirting from Noah serious? Yeah, sure. But it was always serious, whether the person was indulging him or not.

When Solomon gave in, lifted the bottle to Noah’s lips, he unapologetically stuck his tongue out and ran it slowly, obscenely around the rim. He held Solomon’s gaze the entire time, eyes crinkling a little at the edge with his shithead grin before he wrapped full lips around it and tipped his head so he could take a few gulps, his throat pumping with it quickly so he didn’t gag on the beer.

Would’ve been a bit embarrassing.

When he pulled away from the bottle, he was already laughing, and he slapped the meat into two thick patties. “I’m taking back that drink of beer you stole later, by the way,” he announced as he went to wash his hands again, then set a grill pan on the stove to preheat while the patties rested.

“what’re you gonna do then, eh? wrestle me into submission then lock me in the basement?” solomon deadpanned, brows arching up slightly, a silent ‘really?’. “i think you’d need to put a few stone on to do that.”

not that solomon was all that bigger than noah vertically, but he certainly had some heft. more than noah had, at least - lent itself to his whole ‘twink’ thing, solomon guessed. clearly he knew how to play that whole thing up - something that only became more clear when the bottle touched his mouth. for fuck’s sake. 

“put it away, you,” solomon groused, rolling his eyes through noah’s little performance. “i’d call you a tart but i think you’re startin’ to take it as a compliment.” 

solomon set the beer bottle down with a soft thud when noah had drank his fill, throat bobbing as he swallowed it all down. solomon stepped away to fish his own beer from the counter, taking another sip. 

“good luck with that, pet,” he retorted, taking his spot at the counter back, lounging against it. “is now the time to tell you that my ex is a chef so i’ve got a very discernin’ palate?” 

[solomonemsworth]

evelynhawthorne‌:

The sparks in her body came in waves. The first, when his warm gaze fell on her again after that absolutely fantastic laugh he had. The second, when he stepped forward, so close that she could nudge her leg forward slightly and press her knee into his thigh right near his crotch. The third, when his thumb dragged over her skin, joined with a faint inhale and goosebumps skittering over her body once more.

Evelyn chuckled, a far lower and throatier purr this time, as she stared at his lips - or what peeked out of them through his beard. “I’ve never had more exciting foreplay than needing to stab a man in the thigh with his allergy shot,” she drawled, reaching forward to take his shirt between her fingers and gather up a handful just before she pulled him yet closer still, enough to situate him against her, his face only an inch from her chest.

“Suppose it’s polite to ask first,” Evelyn murmured. She slid her tongue over her lips, studying him with far more scrutiny now that he was so close. “Full disclosure, it’s been quite a while. I don’t do this very often. But you caught my eye at the bonfire, and I haven’t felt that sort of immediate spark of chemistry in a bit just from someone admiring my figure, and…”

She flicked her eyes down to meet his gaze again. “Suppose what I’m asking is if you’d mind terribly if I used your handsome body and face to ruin myself on a number of surfaces through my home.”

solomon was pleasantly surprised by the press of her knee against his thigh and did nothing to dissuade the press, mouth curling more, eyes crinkling at the corners. it was quite the lovely place to be, really, pressing evelyn up against the counter while she was wearing that pretty little scrap of lace. he could still feel the warmth of her breast in his palm despite having drawn his hand away - he suddenly ached to feel it again, with more extended contact. 

“it’s very alluring, that. nothing like a near-death experience to spice things up a bit,” he joked back, moving rather willingly with the pull of her hand at his shirt. his own hands came up to cup against her hips, palms against the broadest bit, fingers splayed against soft lace. the knicks and callouses of his hands caught slightly against the fine fabric, thumbs stroking over skin through it. 

solomon’s head cocked to the side when evelyn spoke, pulling what could only be described as a thoughtful expression onto his face. he pushed his lips slightly to one side, eyes lifting as if he were carefully considering her offer, doing the mental math of the ins and outs of it all. there was already a touch of heat rising in him, that low burn beginning in his stomach. it’d been a wee while for him, too - after a handful of hook ups almost immediately after the separation (not very classy, really) he’d been living a rather solitary lifestyle. not any sort of playtime to speak of. and as much as solomon could enjoy his own hand after a spliff and maybe a drink, he was more than ready for something else. especially if that something else was to involve the woman he currently had his hands on. phew. 

“‘spose i can’t say no to that, eh? be a bit of a fool if i did,” solomon said finally, as if he’d made some sort of difficult decision. “wouldn’t mind you startin’ with the face, truth be told.” 

[solomonemsworth]

noahfischcr‌:

“Well, maybe he’s got mixed signals, huh?” Noah fired back, shooting him a grin that took any of the seriousness out of what he was saying. “Maybe when that tarty little bartender’s hitting on you, all you do is insult him, and maybe when he insults you, all you do is hit on him. Maybe he’s gotta stay in the middle so he gets all the good shit.”

Before he did anything messy, he took a swig of his own beer, then washed his hands thoroughly in the sink. “Dunno what’s not sexy about all your dead skin flaking off while I massage som-” He cut off for a sharp retch of his own, then laughed.

“Nah, nah, this is the messy shit. Don’t worry about it.” Noah plunged his hands into the bowl, working the spices and liquid into the meat without overworking the patties. “Guess you could grab my beer, bring it here, let me have a sip of it so I don’t get gross meat stuff all over it.”

“you what, mate?” solomon said, head cocking to the side. “since when have i given you any mixed bloody signals, eh? the cheek - unbelievable.”

solomon was clearly affronted, though partially in jest - noah seemed to have twigged to his sense of humour now, which made things a bit easier. “that’s fuckin’ bold, that is - hitting on you? how dare you. it’s all natural charisma, mate. i’m incredibly charming without even tryin’.” 

solomon finished his little telling off with a healthy swig of beer, having been using that hand to point a warning finger at noah. the cheek of it all, honestly. the absolute bloody cheek. 

“oh and now you want to be bottle fed as well? fuckin’ ‘ell,” solomon said, shaking his head with a rather put upon sigh. he set his own beer down, though, pushing off the counter to saunter over. he plucked up noah’s beer, stealing a sip for himself just to be a prick, before he lifted the bottle to noah’s mouth, cold rim of the bottle against his lower lip. 

“go on then. open up for me, pet.”

[solomonemsworth]

evelynhawthorne‌:

Amusement lit Solomon’s face, just like she wanted - if he was secretly into food play, if he got all randy and excited just from the sight of the nut butter (she struggled not to laugh at the mere thought) on her tit, then he’d absolutely ruin her sheets. But there was courtesy there too, withholding his laugh even as he practically stammered through it to blurt out more banter.

It was…charming, in its own way. Especially when he managed to twist the moment into something sexy, somehow, in its own way.

Evelyn suddenly laughed, actually leaning forward a bit with the force of it, and shook her head, the curls stirring around her cheeks. “Fuck, all right, I-I just…” When she finally got her giggles under control again, she peeked up at him, eyes shining. She hadn’t laughed that hard in what must be years. “I’m sorry, the cheesy porn thing, it always gets me relaxed when it’s been a good long while. Just a bit silly, isn’t it?” She pushed her hair out of her eyes with one hand, reaching with the other to collect the peanut butter on one finger and bring it toward her mouth.

“Besides, never know with new people, if…they take things too seriously, or if they know how to laugh.” She sucked the peanut butter off her finger, still holding his gaze with one sparkling with amusement.

“Are you really allergic?” Evelyn chuckled again. “Should I go take a shower and scrub myself again before I tell you to lick me from head to toe?” she teased.

solomon was biting the inside of his cheek when a laugh was drawn from evelyn herself - ah, good. that gave him free rein. his own laughter shot from his mouth before she’d even spoken - surprisingly loud, as if amplified by the time he kept it trapped in the deep barrel of his chest. jesus christ almighty. it were a good laugh too, head thrown back, all teeth and squinty eyes. it was probably a silly thing to laugh so hard at, but it got solomon by the bloody throat. didn’t have much choice on the matter. 

“fuckin’ ell,” he sobered, marginally, rubbing a hand down his face as he focused his gaze on evelyn again. finally. his face was a bit flushed from the rush of laughter, pink touching the high points of his cheeks, eyes a bit shiny from the force of it all. “no, no. s’a good laugh, so don’t worry about it. was just worried for a second you might’a been serious,” he explained with a flap of one hand, rolling his shoulders a bit to settle into it all again. the laugh had been good - eased the tension somewhat, made things feel a little more relaxed and natural. 

“i’m always havin’ a laugh, me. can’t take this shit too seriously,” solomon said, as if he didn’t have a rather stern resting bitch face. he was quick to laugh, though, he thought - even if only internally. 

solomon’s gaze dipped, following the swipe of evelyn’s finger across the full curve of her upper breast and back to her waiting mouth. 

“m’not,” he assured, taking a step forward again, insinuating himself back into her space. “just thought it’d be a bit funny, eh?” his eyes flickered over her face a moment before dropping back to her breast. “i think you’ll be just fine like this - did miss a spot, though.” 

he was right, too - just a tiny chunk left lingering, but enough for him to notice. he was getting quite familiar with her cleavage - stood to reason he’d notice it. “i’ll get that for ya, shall i?” he continued, mouth curling at the corner as a hand lifted. he cupped his hand just barely against the side of her breast, thumb sweeping over the top to catch the stray bit of spread - it were easy, relaxed, as if he was sweeping a bit of lint from her shirt instead of thumbing at her breast. he drew his hand away then, bringing his thumb to his mouth to lick away his own spoils, mouth curling more. 

“you gotta admit it’d be a bit funny if i went into anaphylactic shock right now, eh? it’d really set the mood.”

[solomonemsworth]

noahfischcr‌:

“I function just fine, fuck off!” Noah fired back with a bright laugh. “Listen, if you wanna be my sugar daddy and buy me a hamper, go right ahead. But my floor works as a perfectly good one so I can keep tipping your staff above and beyond.” Noah bumped his hip against Solomon’s playfully as he passed him on his way to the fridge.

He leaned to snag two bottles of beer from the fridge, going to open them properly with a bottle opener in the drawer beside him before offering one to Solomon.

“If you need a good rubdown with some anti itch cream for that rash, you tell me, all right?” he drawled as sarcastically as he could while he went back for the other supplies.

In no time, he had a bowl, a pound of ground beef, a bit of cooking wine and Worcestershire sauce, and a fuckton of spice bottles spread before him. He dashed and added here and there, pausing before adding a bit more. “How do you like yours cooked, by the way?”

“you’re fuckin’ twisted, mate. well twisted,” solomon retorted. “that’d do my fuckin’ head in, that would. and you’ve seen my car - i can’t even afford to be my own bloody sugar daddy, much less some tarty little bartender who’s torn between insultin’ me and tryin’ t’shag me.” 

he didn’t sway at the bump, instead shooting noah a little look, cutting his eyes at the young man a moment. he took the beer when offered, calloused fingers knicking against noah’s knuckles for a second before he drew away, beer now in hand. 

“thanks,” he said with a nod and a polite little smile, though that smile disappeared in blink when noah started talking about rubdowns. “not the sexiest of images, pet,” he chided with a soft tutting of his tongue, taking a rather large swig of his beer. “gonna have to take a hard pass on that offer. very kind of you, though.” 

solomon found a bit of counter to prop himself against after shrugging out of his jacket, left to hang on the back of a chair. he kept his beer in hand, free hand tucked into his elbow, arm crossed over his chest. 

“medium rare’s just fine,” he said with a short shrug. “y’want some help or somethin’?”