#tom hardy imagine
I think I’m finally ready to start writing again. I’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with my Poppop passing away, and he has always pushed me to do the things I love. He wouldn’t want me to stop writing because of him. And since the power is still out, what better way to pass the time than write? Expect some new imagines up this weekend
A/N:This is sort of a follow up to Take me, thanks to a suggestion made by @jamesbuchananbarnesslut.
Tom’s P.O.V.
The soft but startling feeling of sunlight on my face woke me up from a deep slumber. I did not remember falling asleep, but considering the night’s activities, that wasn’t all that surprising.
I could still barely believe what had happened. After years of dreaming about it, I finally had my best friend naked in bed, writhing with pleasure underneath me. It was everything I’d always hoped for, and the fact that she’d allowed me to enact every single one of my wildest fantasies only made me grow harder as I realized morning woods had a completely different meaning when I knew she was right next to me.
Except…
I couldn’t turn around to check on her, and when I opened my eyes, I realized it was because all of my limbs had been expertly tied with what looked like my shirts, to each and every corner of my bed.
The immediate panic had me surging against the binds, but just as I tried to move, my body was pulled back against the mattress again. I was about to start screaming for Y/N when the door of my room was opened and in she came, glancing at me like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“What is this?” I asked, trying to sound angry but obviously just coming across as amused, which was my actual emotion. She simply giggled, slowly climbing onto the bed and walking on her hands and knees towards my body, wearing nothing but my shirt.
The sight had me licking my lips as I watched the way the sunlight danced over her skin. God, I wanted to lick it all over again.
“Untie me,” I urged, eyes still focused on the space between her legs that the edge of the shirt kept hidden from me. “I’m still not done with you, darling.”
The smirk she gave me was chill-inducing, but in the best possible way. I could already feel my toes curling from the warmth of her thighs as she climbed further up, until she was hovering just over my head.
“You’ve had your fun yesterday, Tommy,” she whispered, caressing my jaw with soft hands. “Now it’s my turn.” I was about to point out that she seemed to have had the time of her life yesterday, but before I could, her lips were on mine, controlling the kiss and taking my breath away.
“And I won’t let you leave until I’ve had my fill.” I expected her to lower her perfect little pussy on my face after such a warning, but instead, she made me look her in the eye, still cradling my face, as she asked, “Do you trust me?”
It was the same question I’d asked her the night before, when I refused to even touch her until I heard the confirmation fall from her lips. The reminder made me smile, and there was no doubt in my mind as to what my answer would be.
“Blindly.”
She captured my lips with hers once more, sealing my heavenly fate. I couldn’t wait to be but an instrument for her pleasure.
And she started by riding my face.
The sweetness I’d grown accustomed to the night before was still as overwhelmingly delicious. Despite the uncomfortable feeling of being stuck to one specific position, I settled down to enjoy the taste and the view of her tits bouncing freely underneath the shirt she wore, making my cock twitch in need.
I still hadn’t had the pleasure of feeling her tight cunt embrace me, but the longer I spent with her nude body, the more desperate I became.
However, that experience we shared after a couple of beers hadn’t been about me. It was about showing her the pleasure that she deserved, the pleasure I could give to her, should she allow me to.
Thankfully, it seemed like my goal had been achieved, and she was now willing to give a relationship with me a try. Or at least, I hoped this was what she was saying with the rhythmic way she kept rubbing her cunt against my face, slathering her wetness all over my chin. And I was here for the road.
She had tempted me for so long. But now, she was finally mine. I wouldn’t let her go, wouldn’t let her pretend this was strictly sexual when I had so many feelings for the woman on top of me. She grabbed my hair to help her movements as they grew frantic, and we moaned in unison, me at the slight pain at my scalp and her as she rode down the orgasm she took from me.
Sleepy
Eddie brock going out with his gf at like 3am to a cafe just to drink hot chocolate and chill cause they had trouble sleeping. Is that a decent one shot tiny idea thingy?
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The moon was bright in the night’s sky. Stars sprinkled the blank area surrounding the glowing orb, glittering in the sky vibrantly. The city below was dark, most homes cascaded in a sheet of black as the owners slept peacefully behind closed doors. There were cars that would occasionally speed down the empty streets, fleeing past the lights that had been tinted green for majority of the night. There were a few fast food restaurants still open, sleepy employees residing inside with bored expressions and droopy eyes as they impatiently waiting for the clocks on the wall to strike a certain time, signaling for their departure. And for the remaining people who remained awake along with the city, people like you and your boyfriend, it was night’s like these when you just couldn’t seem to fall into slumber.
The air outside was chilly, much chillier than it was during the day now that you were without the heated glow from the sun. You walked alongside your boyfriend, clumpy slippers slapping the pavement beneath you as you shuffled beside him. Your hair was drawn up in a messy bun, fingertips wrapped around a dark purple, fluffy blanket that you had lugged off the sofa on your way out the front door and clutched around your body. You had smeared eyeliner under your eyes from the night before and you were dressed down in a pair of pyjama pants that belonged to the man at your side but they were too small for him, yet still baggy on you, so you’d taken them. Your eyes dropped to the plaid material, studying it for half a second before your attention was pulled to the heavy weight added to your shoulders.
Eddie Brock moved along beside you, his arm now rested around you snugly. His fingertips were gentle on the comfy fabric of the blanket, rubbing your arm through the thick material as he continued to talk to you about the nightmare he’d seemed to keep slipping into throughout the night.
“I’m telling you, babe,” He sighed breathily, his breaths visible in the streetlights glow. “It was terrifying. I mean, really, imagine a sixty foot tall horse trampling over you.” He lifted his gaze to the trees in the distance, as if a dark shadow would emerge from the clutter of leaves to reveal itself as this creature his brain had conjured up.
“Eddie.” Your eyes fluttered as they drifted up to his own. Your long lashes tickled your cheeks every time you blinked. “Honey, you have a parasite living inside you, how can you possibly be scared of a horse.” The amusement in your tone told Eddie that you were merely teasing the symbiote that lived inside him by using the term Venom hated most. Parasite. The flicker of Venom in Eddie’s gaze made your lips curve up on one side into a lopsided smirk. Opening your blanket, you stepped in closer to him and weaved your strong grip around his waist, squeezing him tightly.
Eddie peered down at you, doing his best to ignore the internal complaints that Venom continued to drone on about. Eddie wished that your thoughts could be invaded just as his were. It really wasn’t fair that he had to suffer all on his own.
The conversation came to a halt when you drew the heavy door open that led to the diner. The place was small, a hole in the wall, but it was known for its family business and original recipes — not to mention it was delicious — so the customers would pile in on a daily basis, typically in the mornings. They were also open 24/7 and any business that was tended to be worthy of being so. You stepped inside, unsurprised to find that it was even colder inside the small building. Eddie held the door open and piled in directly after you, coming to a stop when his chest brushed against your back. He was taller than you, chin almost pressed against the back of your head as his hands lifted to graze your covered arms.
The redhead by the door was busy smacking on a piece of gum, pink apron tied around her waist with a frilly lace lining the bottom. She was wearing a frizzy wig and bright blue eyeshadow. It was all a part of the outfit that her mother insisted was adorable — and therefore good for business. She thought she looked like a cheap extra, auditioning for a role in some movie that took place in the 50’s. The name tag on her white shirt read ‘Margaret’ and as you parted your lips to greet her, she did the same. Her lengthy nails lifted to dip past the curls and scratch at the wig that had been irritating her scalp for hours.
“Welcome.” She smiled sweetly, almost too kindly. “Would you like a table or a booth?”
Eddie’s eyes were busy dragging along the length of the room. There weren’t many people inside, but why would there be? The only other people here at this time of night would be people who travelled for work, policemen, the elderly, and people like you — people who couldn’t sleep.
You shuffled in front of your boyfriend, arm lifting so you could point toward the booth in the corner. “Booth is fine.” You didn’t mean to suggest a specific one, it was just habit to animatedly use your hands.
Eddie’s eyes flickered back to the girl as she spoke to you, gathering two menu’s and a slip of paper with the specials scribbled along the front. “Right this way.” She sighed before stepping past the pair of you and leading you through the scattered tables. Eddie was dressed down in a dark grey hoodie and some jeans he’d yanked on when you snagged the blanket from the sofa. His hand managed to find yours as it barely crept out of the underside of the blanket. Taking it in his own, he followed you toward the table that the lady ushered toward. You slid into the booth and Eddie followed suit. The woman would’ve given the pair of you a look of judgement, but she was too tired to poke fun at the fact that you’d both settled for one side when booths were double-sided. She dropped the menu’s down on the table before ensuring she’d be right back.
You knew she was probably lying, no doubt heading into the back to prepare some coffee and cups of water before she’d slip out the back door for a quick cigarette. Well, you assumed so since she stunk of ash and smoke, not that it bothered you. It wasn’t as if the pair of you were in a rush to get back home so you wouldn’t have minded if she climbed into her car and drove off to buy a pack of cigarettes, much less had a quick one in the alley. You frowned softly, realizing that you were lost in your thoughts and analyzing such a small thing. If it weren’t for Eddie’s raised brows and inquisitive stare you probably would’ve remained there, inspecting each person tucked away inside.
You didn’t feel the sleepy droopiness yanking at your stubborn eyelids just yet so you fixed them on your boyfriend. A slow smile pulled at your lips. Unlike you, he did look exhausted. He had forming bags under his eyes that left a visible dark shadow and his chin was propped up in his palm, supporting the weight of it since he didn’t have a pillow to lay on. It wouldn’t matter if he did and it didn’t matter that his eyes begged him to close. He couldn’t find the oblivion that was ordinarily so easy.
“So,” You spoke up as you grabbed ahold of one of the menu’s. Lifting it so you could inspect the muddled words in front of you, your heart sank. The font was small on the plastic, rectangular card. “Shit, i didn’t bring my contacts.”
Eddie’s brows arched at your choice of words before directing his stare toward the menu you clutched. Lifting his arm, he draped it across your shoulders, warm and exposed muscles grazing the softness of the purple blanket you still had draped around your body. “Here, I’ll read it to you.” He mumbled out, voice drowning with tiredness. He grasped one corner of the sheet but instead of dragging it away from you, he slid across the seat so that your bodies were closer together. Staring down at the options, he tried to keep it simple instead of running through a hundred different items. “Do you know sort of what you want?” He inquired, heavy breaths tickling your shoulder and cheek.
You craned you’re neck to the side, lips almost bumping his cheek. “Um.. pancakes.”
“Plain?” He grunted, doing his best to avoid the breaths of yours that tickled his rough skin.
“Plain?” You scoffed. “Are you sure you’re my boyfriend?” Plucking the menu away from him completely, you discarded it back on the clean table before rotating on the squishy cushion to face him.
“Nutella.” He corrected himself, looking in your direction slowly. Even sitting, he was taller than you. His fingertips pressed against your arm firmly, dragging you toward him so that you were forced to meet him in the middle for a gentle kiss.
“Mh, there you go.” You mumbled against his lips, not daring to break it first.
His smile broke the lip lock, teeth on show and therefore forcing your lips to graze his pearly whites. “Nutella is so sticky. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” His eyes were tinted over with amusement. “You’re disgusting.”
“Funny you should say that.. last time I had Nutella smeared on my lips, you licked it off.” Your brows arched in an accusing manner. “So clearly I’m not that disgusting.”
Eddie chuckled under his breath at the memory that formed in his head. Turning toward the little machine perched on the corner of the table, he drew it toward him to rest so he could type in your order. “Two pancakes?” He asked quietly.
Your eyes moved to the screen. The longer you thought about the pancakes, the lesser they seemed to appeal to you. Pursing your lips, you reached out and let your hand cover his own, big eyes squinting. “Nevermind, Baby. I don’t think I’m hungry enough for food.” Your eyes lit up at the beverages. “I think I just want a hot chocolate.”
Eddie turned his head toward your own to inspect you. “Are you sure? We can always bring them home if you don’t eat them all.” He offered.
The table in front of the pair of you blinked, waiting for the order to be placed. Eddie waited for your response, but you were busy scrolling through the lengthy list of flavors that they could add into the hot, creamy, mug of chocolate. You’d grown up hating the cup of goodness. You could hear your mother’s faint voice as she asked you if you were interested in a cup. You’d stick your tongue out in distaste before claiming that it was too sweet for your liking. Now, you drank it so often that Eddie joked at times you should just grow out a mustache — seeing as you typically had a faux chocolate one across your upper lip most mornings.
“No,” You finally spoke up quietly, pressing on a cup of hot chocolate with a cocoa stick and whipped cream. “It’s okay, baby, really. I think I’m just trying to convince myself I’m hungry because we’re here, but i probably wouldn’t even be able to take one bite, I know it.” Kissing his rough, stubbly cheek, you lingered in place before offering the tablet up to him. Eddie was the farthest thing from picky so with a brief inspection of what you’d ordered, he pressed the small ‘1’ that resided beside your drink and changed it to a ‘2’ so he could have the exact same thing.
In the corner of the room, a small computer lit up brightly with your order. You briefly looked in the direction where the quiet ding erupted from before lifting your hand to the back of your boyfriends neck. Giving him your sole attention, you ignored the woman — a different woman than the one who had seated you.
Eddie set his elbow on the table and let a heavy breath of air escape his lips. He was tired, but it seemed that the only time his body was willing to sleep was at the worst times. Now was not the most opportune moment and yet there he sat in the bright diner, chilly air wrapped around his body as he sat in the booth with droopy eyes directed at you.
Your hand lifted to his hair, brushing through the thick strands slowly, smoothing them down. “You know, for a person who couldn’t get any sleep, you sure do look like you’re on the verge of passing out.”
Eddie smirked toward you before leaning in and slowly wrapping his arm around your shoulders. His lips moved to your own, stealing a few soft kisses before he shrunk back against the chair and directed his stare toward the table. “It’s a lot easier to sleep when I’m not suppose to be.” He grunted. “And Venom’s being awfully quiet so that helps too.”
Your eyes searched his for a few moments, wondering silently if the symbiote’s need to talk all night was what kept your boyfriend up at such late hours. “Well we can take our hot chocolate’s to go.” You murmured sleepily. The bright light was beaming down on your sensitive eyes, forcing them to grow droopy just as Eddie’s had. “Maybe we need to start sleeping with our bedroom lights on and our air conditioner on high.”
Eddie chuckled lowly before moving his hand to rest on your upper back. He traced lazy shapes along your skin, over your shirt. “We can stay here. We’ll grow sleepier and sleepier and then when we get home, hopefully we’ll pass out.” He drew you toward him so your head could lay against his broad chest. The sound of his heartbeat comforted you, lulling your droopy eyes to flutter before closing. The pair of you were probably a sight, curled up in the small booth pressed against one another while you waited for your drinks.
Shockingly, it didn’t take long at all before a waitress came sauntering over with a tiny try. She lifted each mug by the warm handles and set them on the table in front of each of you before taking the tablet and setting the screen to check-out. She made sure there was nothing else either of you needed before excusing herself so she could tend to the other tables. Not chocolate must’ve been very popular at this hour because you hadn’t had to wait very long. You lifted your head away from Eddie’s chest, unsurprised to find that it felt so heavy. Peering down at the whipped cream that lined the rim of your mug, you leaned forward and licked the topping before looking toward your boyfriend when he did the exact same. The only difference was that he’d managed to smear some on his nose. You didn’t have a chance to point it out before he lifted his hand to his face and with the back of his wrist, wiped away the smudge. You smiled fondly toward the man before slipping your hand beneath the table and letting your fingertips graze his thigh. It was innocent. A touch just to touch him. But he sent you a side glance either way, inspecting your true intentions for only a moment before his hand lowered to cover your own.
A peaceful silence settled over the two of you. The only sounds present were your occasional giggles when he was messy due to the cream. The hot beverage was soothing on your throat, it made your body internally hot but weirdly comfortable. It was probably because of how cold it was inside the establishment. Eddie leaned his head to the side and let his temple find your shoulder as he continued to sip at the chocolate.
“We should’ve drove.” He finally spoke. His voice was heavy and low. The gruffness of it told you all you needed to know — he didn’t feel like walking. Especially not now, now that his limbs were deadweights and his body was ready to absolutely collapse. He leaned against your body further, arm moving to loop around your waist. You lifted your hand to his hair and began to caress the messy strands. With your free hand, you adjusted the blanket that was draped around you and made it so that it laid across him as well.
“I can get us an uber, baby. Don’t worry about walking.” You assured him. Sending a look toward a waitress in the corner, who’d been gawking at Eddie for what seemed like the second she handed him his hot chocolate, you turned your head and kissed his nose softly. It was the easiest part of him to reach. You were unsurprised when his head tipped and he leaned in for an even better kiss. Your lips pressed to his own for a few seconds before you drew back and pulled your phone from the little zip on the front of your purse. Eddie watched the blinding light from your phone before his eyes slid shut. He could hear the faint tapping of your thumbs as you clicked the little icons and typed in the addresses. Your hot chocolate wasn’t even close to being finished though, so before confirming the ride, you set your phone on the table so it would be ready when the pair of you were.
As you sipped your got chocolate, indulging in pointless conversation every now and then, Eddie remained slumped against you with his mouth hanging partially open and his eyes closed completely. It was only when you were in the middle of discussing the strangeness about chocolate being able to rock them to sleep that you heard a faint, little snore leave his lips. Your head turned, inspecting the big, sleepy bear. Your heart tightened and a little smile graced your lips. You figured you could get his hot chocolate to go, but he wouldn’t drink it cold and he’d insist it didn’t taste the same if he warmed it up. You reached around his body for the little screen on the ledge and pulled your wallet from your pocket so you could pay for the drinks.
Eddie’s body followed your shoulder wherever it went and when you began to squirm to get back in your regular position, he sleepily wrapped his arms around your body more securely. You could tell, with each passing second, that he was falling deeper and deeper asleep. So the guilt that pooled in your stomach seemed to instantly swallow you whole.
How the hell were you going to wake him up and get him to the uber?
He was finally sleeping.
The envy that flooded you intertwined with the guilt though and as you felt the reluctance to wake him, you also felt the desire to join him. Your hands fell to his hard shoulders, squeezing them tenderly before your thumb mashed the ‘confirm’ button on your phone. You supposed you could let him sleep until the headlights rolled up outside. Tilting your head so that it rested against his own, you let your eyes flutter just for the time being. The driver was still 8 minutes away, so you figured it would be okay to just rest your eyes.
The waitress in the corner lifted a brow. The pair of you definitely were a sight. Sitting in a booth, laid against one another with a frilly blanket draped around you. The glow from your phone pulled her gaze to the glass door, peering outside. She wasn’t stupid. Loads of people came to the diner at all hours in the morning. You weren’t the first couple to fall asleep while waiting for your ride, and you wouldn’t be the last. She crept up to the table and cleaned the dishes off the surface before making her way back to the counter. Along with waitressing and clean up duty, she also considered herself to be an alarm clock — for she would wonder over and wake any slumbering customers when their lifts had arrived. She slumped against the wall and waited patiently, arms folding over her chest and big green eyes sliding along the darkness that kissed the windows. Patience seemed to be a necessity — a requirement for this job. She was lucky she had plenty.
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A/N: I know this is shitty and very simple, but I’ve gotta her back into it thank you so much for your patience!!
Inhale
Short n sweet. Literally. My best work.
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Alfie Solomons breathes.
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Fin
A/N: I do have something serious coming hahaha
“I want a baby.” Text ( Part 7 )
Eddie Brock & Tuck Hansen
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Requested by Anonymous!
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Eddie Brock
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Tuck Hansen
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A/N: The first text is from the original creator of this thread and the second text is a custom one that I made for each specific character!
“I want a baby.” Text ( Part 6 )
Eames and Max Rockatansky
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3Part 4Part 5
Requested by Anonymous
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Eames
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Max Rockatansky
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A/N: The first text is from the orginial thread and the second text is a text I created to fit each specific character!
“I want a baby.” Text ( Part 5 )
John Fitzgerald & Tommy Conlon
Part 1 Part 2Part 3 Part 4 Part 6
Not requested! Just did it anyway
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John Fitzgerald
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Tommy Conlon
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A/N : The first text is taken from the original creator of this thread and the text after is created by me to fit each character!
hi! need new inspo <<3 y’all got any new requests! I’m ready to write again❤️ and I have free time! 2022 let’s goooo!!
Equivalent
again! hello! i want to do a drabble for the characters that i intend on writing super lengthy stories for, so here is another little one shot / potential second parter so i can find my way back to Alfie
warnings: swearing!
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“Mr. Solomons.” It was difficult for you not to roll your painted eyelids. The shimmering powder that had been applied earlier that morning was visible even in the dimly lit establishment. “Let’s pretend for a moment that we’re both grown ups, can you handle that?” His obvious flirting was beginning to get on your last nerve and you hadn’t even been here for more than twenty minutes. The lengthy lashes attached to your lined eyelid almost tickled your shaped brow with each and every slow blink.
Alfie’s brows were hidden beneath the long brim of his thick, black hat. Beneath that accessory though, you were positive his bushy brows were arched by your mocking comment seeing as his eyes were glazed over with the most challenging and disbelieving tint you’d seen in a man’s eyes since your last business meeting.
His blue eyes fell away from your pointed stare in order to rake down the length of your curved neck and down to your exposed breasts. He could practically feel the way your eyes narrowed as he ogled your bosom. “Forgive me, yeah, but they were staring at me first.” The quiet squeak of his hand tightening around his thick-wooded cane caught your attention. You lowered your heavy gaze away from his features and inspected the way his knuckles whitened under his overbearing grip.
The eyeroll you sent in his direction made the small boy at the bloke’s side shuffle. Ollie, was it? The brunette was shifting his weight from side to side in the oak chair, fingers trembling around his grip on the clipboard. Not too long ago, Sabini had been sat in the chair you filled, exchanging words with his boss as Ollie hurried to scribble down each and every deal and agreement.
Temptation was strong. It was so strong, like the burning ache of desire you felt that stung the back of your throat when you stared at a glass of whiskey or rum. It was strong like lust, the swirling impatience that formed and suffocated your insides, curling in your lower belly with so much need. It was very similar to how you felt now - only instead of being tempted to have a shag or a drink, you were tempted to throttle the man across from you and hold the barrel of your polished revolver against the side of his temple. But you were far too mature, and far too admired to do something so risky without thinking twice.
“Mr. Solomons.” The man rubbed his lips together slowly at the formal approach once more. “Must I take my business elsewhere? I won’t be known for making deals with a child, and you,” You ogled him pointedly, as if waiting for him to drag his beady eyes away from your breasts and make eye contact once more. He did, but it certainly took a few moments. “wouldn’t surprise me if you started crying because you’re teething.” The challenging squint you passed in his direction made him straighten. He wasn’t fond of the way that you were speaking to him in front of his men, and he also wasn’t fond of the way he was beginning to enjoy it. Riling you up was proving to be fun. He liked the annoyance that swam in your gaze and the tension that built in your shoulders as you hunched forward to make yourself perfectly clear with every venomous word you spoke.
“Right, I’m sorry, aint I.” Alfie adjusted his cane slowly. Rotating the wood, he laid the length of it across his lap slowly before planting his hands down flat against the scratched table. His rings tinked quietly against the surface, dragging along the oak each time he’d swipe his hand in one direction or the other, scraping his jewelry in the process as he spoke. “We got off on the wrong foot, didn’t we, Miss. Go on then, right, let’s hear you little plan again. Promise you, this time, good old Alfie’s fucking listening.”
The saliva in your mouth was sucked through the gaps in your teeth. Swallowing, in order to moisten your drying throat, you shook your head in disbelief before absently beginning to rotate your ankle beneath the table. Unbeknownst to you, every rotate of your slender foot caused the tip of your heeled boot to lazily graze the calf of the well known man across from you, grazing his trousers in a way that made the man think you were flirting with him.
“I won’t repeat myself again.” You insisted. This was the last time he’d hear your offer. “I know you may think you’ve got some sort of manly power over me, since you’re no doubt intimated by a woman coming in here and making demands. But I want just as serious of a deal as any other hardworking person that comes through those doors. Now,” Alfie clenched his jaw as you swiftly continued on, unallowing him to cut in and state that he, in fact, treated women no differently than men. He just ogled them for far longer because they were much more enticing to stare at. After a few moments, he realized he was probably glad you hadn’t let him open his mouth, he probably would’ve said something unknowingly, and borderline, sexist. “Iwantyou to do my heavy lifting. I can offer you men, several more hands to help you with all that you need done in your little distillery. I have clientele, angry one’s, that need to be disposed of. Unfortunately for me, that is a headache of a job to take care of and I’d much rather have a trusty bloke, such as yourself, handle that for me. Now, in return, I will help transport some of your bread.” You squinted in his direction, attempting to read him. “The white only. The brown is of no interest to me. I deal with bosses, men and women alike. I don’t make deals with low-down workers. Shelby, Sabini, Changretta, I know the lot of people you’ve been dealing with Solomons and not a single one of them would grasp my attention for even half of a second. But you, Mr. ‘I make a deal or death’..” There was a playful smirk playing on your pink lips now and a very long pause. “Are you going to shoot me, Solomons?” Lazily lifting your arm, you peered down at your red nails, painted perfectly before you slowly extended your arm and wiggled your nimble fingers.
The questioning look in his eye was enough to make you want to giggle. He was pondering every word you’d said. Even if the deal hadn’t sounded too entirely tempting, the fact that you’d said you only deal with the big boys and girls was enough to make Alfie swirl his tongue around in contemplation. “Being that you’re talking about me fucking over a few not-so-friendly men, what kind of protection does that leave me with, yeah? I think, right, actually, I fucking know, the second I breathe out the word ‘deal’ to you, the three of them’ll just barge in here, right, and have my fucking head.” His hands lifted to his chest before opening in a widespread motion, palms pointed toward the ceiling and bracelets shaking under the movement. “Now, why don’t you make your deal just a little more flattering?”
You rubbed your teeth together absently before fixating your orbs on the ceiling. “Didn’t expect you, of all people, to seek protection.” You supposed you were asking him to screw over several of his previous business negations though. But 200 barrels of white bread was far more money than 300 barrels of brown. Oh, he was going to work for you, in fact, he’d probably beg if you’d have let him. “Alright, Mr. Solomons. I can offer you a new relationship with the police. And not one like Tommy Shelby was offering.”
“The police round here, yeah, can’t fucking stand me. I don’t think that’ll be enough protection.” Alfie ground his teeth together. He was a big boy. He’d gladly kill Sabini, Changretta, and Shelby if it came down to it. But he’d like to avoid a bloodbath if at all possible. But not having to watch his back every second of every day would be nice.
You hummed lowly, absently pulling your attention from the ceiling so that you could look back toward Alfie. “I’ll double the men then. Send some to be lookouts. My men are highly professional and far more capable than the lousy gits you’ve got standing guard.” You pressed your palms against the table and slowly began to lift yourself up and out of the chair. Rising above the seated men in front of you, you passed him a slow smile. “I’m a woman that a lot of people want dead.” Trustworthy as you may be, the very deal you’d made Alfie had been offered up to several other’s too. Fuck over so and so, work for me instead, and I’ll give you things you’ve never dreamed of — that was the big, tempting headline nobody had said no to thus far. That being said, those at the shit end of the stick always tended to be on the hunt for you. “And I’ve been in business for probably as long as you have. I have good people watching my back and I can promise to ensure you the very same.” There was a long silence. Ollie’s pen scratching the length of the paper was the only sound in the room before you reached in Alfie’s direction. “Do we have a deal?”
Alfie stood slowly. Adjusting the hat that sat on his head, he slowly lifted the cap up and off of him before placing it on the table. He smoothed out his previously flattened strands of hair and rubbed down the length of his beard, from the tops of it, down and along the length of it. He was fucking around now, you could see that. His thumb nail scratched at a rough patch of hair and his bent pinky grazed his lips as he put on a lengthy display of consideration.
“Five..” You exhaled breathily.
Alfie quirked a brow.
“Four..” You continued, a look of distaste forming in your dark pools.
Alfie was almost smirking by this point, hand falling away from his fast to collide with the table.
“Three..” Your word dripped with impatience, but your tone was neutral, as if you had all the time in the world. “Two..” You said, rolling your neck to the side. Extending it, you let your eyes flutter for a moment before shoving them back open and giving a final warning. “One.”
Alfie’s hand slid nicely into your own. His was much larger and veiny. The cold jewelry tickled your digits as he firmly gripped your small palm in his own and gave it a gentle shake. “Deal.” He said quietly, holding his blue eyes steadily on your own unwavering one’s.
With a firm, final squeeze, you made motion to pull your hand away, but he lugged you back forward so that he could lean against the table. You gasped in surprise, almost losing your balance as he hauled you forward just enough so his pink lips could lay against your ear. You held your free hand up quickly to cease the rushing sound of men’s feet. You never went anywhere without at least six of your guards. Two in the room, two outside the room, and two outside the building. “It’s fine.” You dismissed them breathily, Alfie’s manage to catch you off guard was evident in your tone.
“If you, yeah, fuck me, I promise I’ll fucking do the same to you.” Alfie ground out. There was a warning in his words that you picked up on rather clearly. His threat was serious, but he’d purposefully worded that sentence to pull a particularly strong eye roll from you.
“It isn’t wise to threaten me so soon, Mr. Solomons. And I promise you, if I were to fuck you, you’d be dead.” Your dainty hand lifted to press against his strong shoulder. Tapping the muscular surface triumphantly, you turned your head so that you could stare him in the eye. Every breath he let free wafted over your own lips and his nose was practically touching your own. “Good evening, Alfie. It was a pleasure.” Hardly, you thought to yourself. This man was going to be a headache.
And with that, you pulled away and turned on your heel. Your strong stride was the last thing Alfie Solomons saw before you pushed the heavy doors open and left without another word. He could hear the clicking of your heels, fading with every footstep as the noise signaled your departure. You were gone now, but the room still faintly smelled of vanilla and his hand was still burning from the warmth of your small one. Ollie inspected the smirk Alfie wore, watching as the man straightened.
“I like her.” Alfie noted.
Ollie shuffled in his seat. “Want me to write that down?”
Alfie almost scoffed. “No.” The burly man grunted, sending the lad a look as if he had two heads. “No, but I do want you to go ahead and schedule me another meeting with that one.” He was already looking forward to seeing that annoyed curve of your lip and the challenging squint you seemed so keen on giving him. He was positively curious to know more about you, and that was never a good thing for Mr. Solomons. He was too curious for his own good. “Right, lads, back to fucking work.” He clapped, shooing everyone from the room as he grabbed his hat and his cane. He, too, piled out of the room. His footsteps were much quieter, much slower, and unlike your powerful aura and pleasant success, he traipsed up the stairs feeling a sense of longing. He hoped he’d see you again, very, very soon.
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Is this awful!? It feels awful. ),: Mr. Solomons and I have been apart for so long, we’re gonna find our way back to our mesh. But I hope you guys enjoy this for now. I’m half asleep and felt like drabbling lol <3
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THANK YALL FOR 6K I LOVE AND APPRECIATE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU❤️
Lost
Drabble to try and get me going!
4.6k words
Warnings : sexual assault, sex, prostitution, swearing!
again!! i used Google translate for the French, so I apologize if it’s incorrect / and I didn’t put translations because reader isn’t aware of what they’re saying! so if you want translation feel free to ask!
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Every muscle in your body was tight and sore. The strain that had been put on your worn out frame had been enough to crush you four times over. Your digits were stiffly curled around the thin pelt underneath you. Your toes ached under the pressure of your curled form, knees drawn into your chest and cheek halfway off of the overused pelt, laying partially in the dirt and melting snow. Every heavy exhale you sent free caused wisps of your hair to lift under the strength of them before slowly floating back down to lay against your rosy cheek. “Okay, get off me.” You ground out to the man. His limp, bare chest was rested against your exposed back. He sneered, brows twitching in the slightest before he drew his cock out of you and then began to push himself up and on to his feet.
Over your shoulder you could hear the sound of his trousers, the jingling of his belt as he began to refasten it and make himself more presentable. He clasped the buttons closed on the front of his shirt before retrieving his holster from one of the nearby branches and reattaching it to his person. “Toujours un plaisir.” The man chortled, using the toe of his boot to push a canteen of water in your direction. “Buvez. Le prochain homme arrivera sous peu.” He teased.
When the man departed, you mustered up all the remaining strength in your body before slowly sitting up. You were always clueless when they gave you departing words, but they each received the same scowl regardless of what their words meant. Reaching for the lousy clothing that had been given to you when they’d first snagged you, you began to drag the thin cloth over your head and then the mangled coat. Once dressed, you reached for the canteen in your stuff, shaky grip and took a few sips. The bottle was then discarded in your lap. You folded your arms over your chest and fixated your gaze on the dancing fire about fifteen feet away. Getting up to warm your bones sounded delightful, but making yourself present under the stare of all the Frenchmen sounded awful. Every man would be reminded that they could easily have their fill of a woman if they wanted, you were of easy use. With that thought in mind, you curled into yourself and let the painful bite of the cold winter night have it’s way with you until one of the other man decided they’d like to too. You closed your eyes. This was how it had been for weeks, and you were sure that this was how it would be until they decided to dispose of you.
A week later.
“Y/n.” One of the men towered over your slumbering form. “Oi.” He shook your hip with the toe of his boot. “Wake up.” He growled quietly, doing his best to avoid waking any of the other gents.
You groggily lifted your head from the pelt, blurry eyes settling on the man’s face as you stared up at him. “Mh?” You groaned out tiredly, head already threatening to fall back against the soft fur beneath you.
“Morning, girl. I’m awake,” He ushered to his crotch. “And so’s he.” His English was probably the best out of everyone here. It wasn’t terrific by any means, but he managed just a little bit every now and then. Without any hesitation, he dropped his fingers to his trousers and began to pry them open. The belt clinked with every scrape of the metal before the suede hit the damp fabric of his trousers. He dropped to his knees beside your twisted legs before lazily beginning to pry them open. You’d stop putting up a fight a long time ago, so you let out a few unhappy grumbles before tipping your head to the side to try and get comfy again.
“Pierre.” A sudden voice sliced through the cold air and hit your ears. It was almost enough to make you groan out again in distaste. You were so tired. “Il n'y a pas de temps pour jouer avec elle aujourd'hui. Nous devons passer à autre chose.”
You opened one eye, peering up at the bloke that towered over the two of you. Again, you were clueless over what was being said, but when Pierre rolled his eyes and immediately began to refasten his trousers, you let out a small sigh of relief at being left alone. Though, that relief was short-lived. The man that had just disrupted Pierre was now gripping your wrist and hauling you up and off of the pelt. “Bouge toi.” He grumbled. His eyes were dark, even as the sun weaved through the shaking twigs to illuminate his brown orbs. “Bouge toi!” He repeated when you made no movement at all, you merely stood there, staring up at him. He gave you a small nudge, pushing you in the direction of the other men.
Several of them were mounting horses or tying pelts and supplies on the trusty steeds. With a few empty blinks, you hauled your heavy legs in the direction of the animals. Crusted remnants of sleep clung to the corners of your tired eyes. You absently pressed your fingers against the rough spots, dragging them away from their current placement and flicking them into the snow below. “Am i riding a horse?” You spoke up.
Each man took a turn ogling you when you voiced your inquiry, unsure of how to respond. Horse was the only familiar word in your sentence. Pierre grunted, pointing toward a white horse with black speckles. “With me.” He said shortly. The heavy intake of air you drew into your lungs was released noisily, powerfully. Since being with the Frenchmen, you’d only had to move campsites a handful of times, only when it got dangerous because of the weather or impossible to make a fire because of the wind. Indians weren’t an issue for the surrounding men, for the last time any had come along, some sort of deal had been struck between the blokes. You didn’t know what had been said since not a drop of their arrangement was in a language you understood, but it didn’t really matter to you. At least they weren’t trying to harm you.
It took another fifteen or so minutes before the entirety of the group was ready to get a move on. Men lifted themselves on top of horses and those that chose to travel on foot were working as if they themselves were mules, carrying heavy pelts on their backs and towing along bags full of supplies - food, extra clothing. This group had a strange amount of belongings, but seeing as they’d raided your home, you could only assume they’d done that before and after to others.
Riding with Pierre wasn’t as annoying as you thought it would be. Because he couldn’t make passes at you and flirt for the whole ride, it was relatively silent. Occasionally he’d offer you a drink of water or crane his neck around to ensure that you were still in place on the horse, but apart from that he kept to himself.
“Descendez des chevaux. Il y a des hommes devant.” One of the men on foot whispered, extended his arm in the air and holding his palm open wide to signal for everyone to halt. He was at the head of the group, thick fingers curling around the rope attached to the pelts before he discarded his things on the ground. The snow crunched dully beneath the impact of the man’s belongings before he slowly reached into the back of his trousers. His dirty fingers curled around the handle of his gun, slowly withdrawing it from its nestled position before he laid the long end of his rifle on his knee and lined up his shot.
“Wait.” One of the men hissed. It was the only word you recognized and it immediately caught your attention. You extended your neck, a poor attempt to try and see past the trees and in the direction that the man was aiming. What did he see?
Whatever it was, it had seen him first.
A loud shot rang out, echoing through the cold air. The man at the front collapsed in the snow, a red pool forming beneath his head almost immediately. You gasped in surprise, wild eyes flickering from left to right. You had no time to even react, the horse you were perched on reacted first. The animal lifted himself on to his hind legs, sending you and Pierre into the snow. You coughed out sharply as your back collided with the hard ground. There wasn’t enough snow in this area to help prevent any pain from your fall. You choked out a raspy, “Ow.” But the surrounding Frenchmen were more worried about themselves. They yelled, shouted, and ran, desperately trying to seek cover and line up their own shots. Those that weren’t fighting were trying to get their belongings to safety.
Shot after shot rang out and you continued to lay there in the cold snow, allowing the falling flakes to settle in your messy strands and stick to your eyebrows. You stared up at the clear sky, watching as birds soared overhead, leaving the nearby trees to seek peace and quiet elsewhere. Oh, how you wished you could fly.
“Quitte la! Quitte la! On peut trouver une autre femme!” It was the last thing you heard from the Frenchmen before the sound of horse hooves retreating pounded against your ears and departing footsteps. It was quiet for only a few moments before new voices rang out. English almost sounded foreign.
“Oi, there’s a girl!” A voice called out.
“Grab her!” Another demanded.
A bloke, the one that must’ve spotted you, set his legs on either side of your hips before leaning over your body and snagging the front of your fur coat. With ease, he jerked you up and off of the ground before immediately beginning to haul you off in the very direction that the Frenchmen wouldn’t dare tread. You stumbled over fallen bodies and tripped over dropped supplies.
“What the devil was she doing out there with them?” Someone inquired harshly.
“Probably one of ‘em.” One sneered. “They’ll come back for her. We can’t keep her around.”
So many voices, and so many men. You struggled to look between each one that spoke up, so instead stared at the snow as your feet sunk deeper and deeper as the patches grew thicker and thicker.
“Girl.” A man spoke up. His tone was much softer than the others. “What of the Frenchmen you were traveling with?”
Silence from you.
“See, captain. She’s one of them. Doesn’t even know English. I say we kill her. Them French, they killed all are people. Why should they get her back?”
Captain Henry planted his damp boots firmly on the mushy gravel beneath him. His blue eyes were calm and cool as they raked over your features. Curiosity swam in his stomach and uncertainty raced along his rigid spine. “Girl.” He tried again, paying no mind to any other words spewed.
“What of them?” You finally spoke up. The quietness of your tone warned the men to tread carefully. You held all the information they needed to know and by upsetting you, they’d learn nothing. It was clear, when you lifted your watery eyes to the Captain and sank your teeth so roughly into your trembling bottom lip, that you were lost and no doubt had been for a long while.
“Why were you with them?” He tried again.
The man at your side adjusted his hold on your coat and with a firmness that the gents didn’t expect, you rotated and pushed him off of you. Bridger stumbled in the slightest, his brows arching for half a second before he pulled his hands back to himself and retreated.
“I had no choice.” Your answers were short and sweet. The captain didn’t blame you, but each simple answer you gave spurred another ten questions.
“Why?” He tried again.
“They killed my family.” You murmured.
“When?” He rubbed his teeth together.
Your eyes glazed over with annoyance. “Does it matter?”
The captain grunted. “It does.”
You pressed the tip of your tongue against your cheek before allowing your eyes to drag along the length of the men. There were probably forty frenchmen and only about ten or eleven men in front of you. “I don’t remember.” You said flatly. “They raided my home. Killed women. Children. Men. Stole the animals, our pelts, our food. Thought they were gonna kill me,” You let your sentence trail off.
“And yet, here you are. Why?” The captain grunted. His long legs carried him toward a nearby log. He lowered himself down and on to the oak, dusting off his trousers before he planted his elbows on his knees and scrutinized you.
“Because men will use anyone for just about anything if they feel powerful enough. And I suppose that a little lonely something like me didn’t pose much of a threat.” You were beating around the bush, and you could see the questioning tints in everyone’s gazes. They all knew what you were talking about, but wanted to hear that said explicitly before making assumptions.
The captain didn’t speak this time. A younger boy did. “Sex?” He asked. His simple question received several pointed looks and you, you gave him the cruelest of all.
“Look. Can I go?” You said firmly.
“And where on earth,” A low rumble of a voice raced through the air. It practically pounded on your eardrums. “do you think you’re gonna go? Said so yourself, your family’s all gone.”
The soles of your boots crushed the snow beneath them as you rotated to face the newest addition to the group. Your accusing eyes found the man with ease, stood off to the side all on his own with his thick fingers tracing the length of his rifle. He had a bandana wrapped around the front of his head and his lengthy brown strands lifted with every blow of wind.
“Fitzgerald,surprisingly, is right.” The Captain confirmed. “You’ve got no food. No horse. And no help. You don’t even know what direction you’d be headed in. And I promise you, if you stay with our group, the only thing you’ll be forced to do is help us with the heavy lifting. Pelts. Food. Supplies. Your services will not be required elsewhere.”
John smirked slyly. Although it was awful to hear that you’d been forced to be physical with the frenchmen, he certainly wouldn’t complain if you were to offer him those same services. He rubbed his teeth together, blue eyes traveling from the stream in the distance to latch back on to you as you spoke again.
“What’ll you do if I run?” The question was airy, curious. The man had fair points and you were grateful for that, but at the same time, you didn’t trust that all the men here would keep their hands to themselves.
The Captain shook his head. “You won’t.” And with that, he stood and began to rally the group. He instructed that everyone was to search the dead bodies for lootables and necessities alike. What couldn’t be of use could be pawned and what couldn’t be pawned could no doubt be eaten or worn.
Fitzgerald closed in on you shortly after the Captain was finished speaking. The heavy thud of his footsteps hit your ears like a drumstick would a drum. You didn’t budge from your spot, instead you kept your eyes fixated on the surrounding men as they began to scatter.
“Now listen, I don’t know what the captain was thinking, telling you you’re not required and whatnot to take care of our needs. Fucker’s married, that’s why he don’t give a damn about offering you money or pelts or warmth to keep us warm.” He came to a stop when his chest almost grazed your back. “I ain’t seen a woman in a few weeks, haven’t been touched by one in months. Now, I’d be willing to give you quite a few of my pelts if you’d be willing to show me what it was you were doing with those Frenchmen.”
Your jaw popped under the clench of your jaw, teeth creating a sharp scraping sound each time you ground them together. The Frenchmen were rough and angry lovers. And by the sound of it, this bloke would probably be the same. You turned around to face him after a few moments had passed. At least this one was offering to pay. “How many pelts?”
Fitzgerald sneered down at you. “Three.” He said flatly. He had more than he needed. “How’s that sound?”
You rubbed your teeth together harder. It was cold and he looked like he’d be able to warm you up. And pelts, you could sell eventually and then you’d have enough money to find yourself a spot to live. Course, you’d need more than just three pelts, but maybe he’d want this to be a reoccurring thing, or you could offer the same deal to the other men. You tried your best to swallow the gulp in your tight throat before moving your hand to lay against the curve of your waist. Sleeping with men wasn’t ideal, it made you feel disgusting. But perhaps you could do it for just a while longer, and with these men you could have some ground rules. Like no scratching, biting, or abusing.
“Deal.” You told him softly. The shaky inhale you pulled past your dry, pink lips managed to pull his attention to the chapped layer of skin.
“Well then,” He moved his heavy gaze to the busy men before looking back down at you. “let’s go.”
Surprised internally but bored externally, you scoffed out a soft, “Now?”
“What better time?” Fitzgerald barked out. His hand lifted, easily curling around the front of your coat before he hauled you against him and then rotated to drag you off and away from the peering eyes of the other men.
Glass frowned deeply, his eyes meeting Henry’s. “Fitz took the girl.”
Henry scowled. “I figured he would. But I made it clear, she’s under no obligation.”
Glass rolled his eyes. He and Fitz never saw eye to eye, they hated each other to put it simply. How on earth could a girl find a bloke like that attractive enough to shag? Even if it was for payment.
Fitzgerald led you down the icy slope and toward a small gathering of rocks, surrounded by an endless amount of trees. “Will this do?” He inquired, already beginning to peel off his heavy coat. He laid the fabric out and over a flat area of rocks before directing his stare toward you. He highly doubted that location would be something you’d complain over, it wasn’t as if there were some luxurious beds just laying around in the wilderness.
You licked your lips slowly before hoisting yourself up and on top of the rock. Settling down relatively quickly, your cold, nimble fingers slipped toward the coat you wore, pushing it off of your shoulders so you had double the padding to lay on. Fitzgerald followed you up and on top of the rock, his eyes growing darker as a possessive tint took over.
“I’ve never paid a woman for sex.” He stated, already beginning to lower his hands down to lay against the pelt on either side of your head.
“And I’ve never taken pelts as payment. Usually food or water.” You informed him before slowly shuffling your weight against the rough rock.
“Ah, you’ve made an exception for me. Why’s that? Do you find me attractive?” He was cocky already and you hated that you rather enjoyed it. Giving an effective eye roll, you slipped your hands between your body and his own. Fisting your hands in your thin dress, you began to drag the material up and along your thighs, exposing them to the man and the winter air. “Not really proper attire for being outside in this weather.” He commented, studying every inch of your flesh as it was revealed to his hungry eyes. “I’ll give you a pair of trousers, but what more will you give me?”
You sucked in a long breath, the bones of your knees finding the sides of his hips. “I’ll let you kiss me. I don’t ordinarily let men do that.” Perhaps that wasn’t much, he may call you foolish and scoff at that being a fair deal. But John merely fixed his heavy stare on your face and gave a soft nod. He hadn’t even been considering kissing you, he figured this was a pretty quick ordeal - fill you, fuck you, leave you. He supposed that hadn’t changed, only now it would be a little more intimate with a liplock.
You dragged your tongue over your teeth before moving your hand along his waist and down to the front of his trousers. “Well, get on with it then.” You murmured. “I’d imagine it’s been a long time for you and I don’t expect you to waste time.”
Fitzgerald gave a short nod. Falling back on his knees in an upright position, he swatted your hands away and got to work on his trousers. The front unbuttoned swiftly and the zipper practically slid south as he pulled the fastening undone. He wiggled his slacks down and around his knees, not even taking the time to do the same to his underwear before he leaned back over your form. You assisted him with the final article of clothing, fisting your hands in his undergarments so you could drag them down his pale thighs to join his bunched trousers.
John adjusted his knees and pulled himself in closer to you. His hand lifted to his mouth, cupping beneath his chin so that he could spit into his palm. You didn’t miss the light twitch of the corner of his lips, a notion you would’ve missed if you hadn’t been staring at how full those things were. He lowered his hand back to your body, not even hesitating before he began to smear his saliva along your slit. He didn’t care about foreplay, but he also didn’t want this to be painful and uncomfortable for you. Your cheeks immediately burned red from his touch. None of the Frenchmen had taken the time to do that.
He hoarsely cleared his throat before taking his shaft in hand and beginning to guide himself forward. The slick surface he’d created immediately made it easier for his tip to push past your entrance. He filled you much easier than any other man had and he pulled a reaction from you that they hadn’t received either. One of your hands immediately lifted to clamp on to his shoulder and your other slid to his throat, laying there as you relished in the arousal that began to swim inside of you. Although this sex was being paid for, it didn’t feel so forced like all the others had. And this was a bit of a bonus, Fitzgerald wasn’t ugly.. not in the slightest.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to be gentle with you.” The man on top of you whispered out, shaking you from your thoughts of admiration. Ecstasy dripped in his words and desire swam in his squinted gaze.
“No,” You murmured out. “just like I’m not expecting you to run your mouth the entire time either.” Your snippy retorts and quick little comebacks were managing to pull the faintest smirk from the man.
“Alright then.” He said flatly before moving his hands to your waist. His touch was gentle, though he’d said he wouldn’t be, and his hands felt big enough to swallow your whole waist. You spread your legs a little wider, inevitably waiting for him to begin thrusting. It didn’t take much longer, you felt the way he drew his hips back and the shift of his knees before he thrusted himself back forward. Your body jolted beneath the first buck of his hips, and he was already gawking at the bounce of your breasts. You let out a broken whimper and he repeated the exact same motion. Hauling his hips back, he shoved them back forward and steadily began to buck into you. Your insides clenched around him eagerly, the moisture effectively helping to make you feel much better than any other time. You gasped out shakily each time he filled you, slender fingers digging roughly into the rock. One one hand, your nail beds were threatening to chip under the sheer force of you clawing at the stone. And on the other, John’s skin gave way beneath the force of your nails, leaving half moons etched into his flesh as your body rocked beneath his own.
“Fuck me.” He groaned out breathily. Every shaky exhale he let free hit your lips hotly. You gasped beneath him with every strong thrust and he groaned and grunted, watching as your features twisted. He liked to think he was the only man able to get this reaction from you, and though that was a long shot - it was true. John lowered his forearm and placed it above your head, using his other to maintain his weight and balance, preventing himself from crushing you as he steadily rammed his hips against your own. One of your legs curled around his waist on its own accord, helping you to selfishly lift your hips just enough to send his cock driving directly into a delicious spot inside you. His toned, clothes chest rubbed against your own, and you could see his greedy eyes desperately waiting for your breasts to become exposed. It was far too cold for that though, perhaps laying in front of a fire or the safety of a cave, but it was entirely too vulnerable on the rock for your bare skin to be revealed that much. You’d catch your death, and he’d already decided that this was not going to be a one time thing.
Your head lifted off of the rock and your chapped lips found his pink, just as dry, ones. You kissed him like your life depended on it, forcing him to swallow every yelp and whine that built in your throat. He devoured every sound and made you do just the same, filling your mouth with every noise of ecstasy that tried to fill the cold air. He felt surprisingly hot, pounding into you mercilessly was making his insides burn. A part of him felt as if he may overheat, but the noises he was driving out of you were enough to spur him on.
He figured, in that moment, if it was three pelts to sleep with you and he had so many to sell, that you were just as good a consumer as anyone else. The only difference was that with you he was getting sex, with others he’d get money. This was somehow so much more worth it. He kept going on these fucking hunts because he was trying to find some sort of life for himself. He was just aimlessly living. Just letting his life run its course. And it was so boring. But this.. this was rather exciting. He silently wondered if he’d even have to pay every time. He was willing, but he was sure he was going to want you more times than he had enough pelts for.
He let out a broken growl and forced himself into you harder, faster, fucking you well and truly forcefully enough to almost send you falling off the rock. But his arms had you trapped, you weren’t going anywhere unless you wanted to. And he could tell, as you arched and bucked and begged, that you were doing just fine beneath him.
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okay!! so! i went a completely different route than i originally intended to in my head, but im not unhappy with this one i just need to do some drabbles to get back into the flow of things (-: i hope you guys enjoy! and i was considering doing a part 2, but it really just depends if people like this or not! OK, ‘NUFF RAMBLING <3
Tags:
@lothiriel9@potter-solomons@ellar21@liesandghosts@eastenderkray@innerpaperexpertcloud@strangunddurm@hylianhighlander@misselsbells06@mollybegger-blog@solomons-finest-rum@ghost-of-student-sufferings@jarvisrocks@caffinated-tree@crownthecaylin@enchantingkryptoniteruins@rvnclwreads@rikki-b-lake
Tag List!
2022!!! Let’s do this!
Because of my long break and because I’m not sure who’s still active / still wants to be tagged in future works, I’m updating my list! ❤️ please comment below if you’d like to be tagged in all future uploads! If you just have a specific character you’d like to be tagged in, just comment their name!
Thanks so much! i hope you’re all as excited to read my next uploads as I am to finish them <333
The vibe here is very much the “I could make him worse” kind
Can’t believe I finally finished that story, but there it is in its entirety: Chain the Devil
