Dxsole - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
@dxsole asked: "Good girl." // From Hugo to Holly with love :3 from
Holly doesn't know whether ot laugh or cry. After having begged for so many years to find praise from her family, it had always fallen short. And as she grew, it was something she constantly seeked out in others, especially those older than her. Coming from him, it meant the world, though her brain short circuits, was she meant to take it sexually or innocently ??
It had been innocent, sure. It was simply Holly getting the correct signs down, getting through a whole sentence without stuttering or messing up, a coherent one, at that. One that didn't take him a moment to piece together what the fuck she had just tried to say.
As innocent as it was, though, she clearly didn't take it that way. Her body betrays her with a bright red flush creeping across her cheeks, and with the way she needs to readjust in her seat. Though the smile remains bright, it is accompanied by a bite of her bottom lip. There it is, the brain had decided on the former of the two options, though Holly thinks she does a good enough job at keeping it the latter.
At the sudden exclamation, he's nodding in response, dumb smile still spread across lips. He takes a sip from his shitty beer, the taste of nostalgia hitting his tongue even harder as he reminisces over his time spent in front of the camera.
" I dunno, D, what kind of porn do you usually watch ?? " Intended as a jab at her, not actually meant to be answered, though, fuck, if she want's to talk porn, he could be there all night.
" King Russo. Middle and last name, Nickolas wasn't a very good porn name. " Another sip, and he's ignoring her last statement- sure he was good at the lighting, but he's never offered because there's a camera. -No shit.- He has very distinct tattoos and is a very distinct man, and a very wanted one at that. He can't get in front of the lens again, he's too paranoid about it. Though, every once in a while, he does get an email from some big production company asking him to come out of retirement.
Smiles or wads of cash; either way it sounds like a win-win to her.
"I knew it." She remarks jokingly, although she is thinking about it very hard. Manifesting, if you will.
What he says next gets a sudden no! out of her. By the look on her face, it's clear she's horribly intrigued by the confession. "Anything I might have seen, hm?" She says, as if pornos were viewed as frequently as Michael Bay films.
"Did you use your real name or did you have a funny one?" She used her own for camming as it already sounded a bit like a stage name. "I did wonder why you were so comfortable helping me with mine— ah, and yet you've never offered to join in, hm. For shame Nick." She's kidding, she needs him to help with the lighting.
He's unsure why, but the comment about cock in her mouth has him choking on the drink he sips. He's not a prude, fuck, he'd even smirk at it, but it stirs something up in him. Nick folds a leg over the other to hide the problem and clears his throat.
" I'm sure you do, sweetheart. "
He's not used to this. Most women just want him for his lifestyle, fast cars, money, drugs... Shit, even his own sister used him for that, but he's too dumb to fucking realize it. Didi is obviously here for that, and more.
Keeping her sated is no problem. What she probably doesn't realize ( or if she does, he isn't aware ) is that she isn't the only one he sleeps with. Keeping Nick sated is a feat in and of itself, multiple women a day is the usual, especially when you're an addict such as himself. In other aspects of his life, it still isn't easy to keep this man sated. And even if he's outsourcing that pleasure, he still applauds Didi's ability to put up with him. Especially because the man is an asshole about everything.
" I think I do that well enough. "
" Either way, I'd just hate to see you get hurt cause of me. "
Everyone has a skill set, it's just unfortunate for Nick that Didi's just so happened to be looking good in tiny skirts and also getting her way under any and all circumstances. It's an art form really.
Didi shrugs as she's corrected. "I like the way cock sits in my mouth, hm." She didn't need to phrase it that way, but again, skill set.
"Then say I told you so. You know I would if I were in your shoes." She seems to have a smart answer for everything, which is how she usually got out of situations and why despite all the warranted hatred aimed her way, she's only lost a kidney so far and not her life.
As she sees it, getting what she wanted, getting what would make her happy was far more important than any potential dangers or problems that may arise. Bonnie and Clyde didn't give each other up just because they were being chased by the police, right? Actually, she's not sure, she can't recall how that movie ended—
Regardless, she certainly didn't believe for one second that she needed anyone else to protect her, even if the idea of Nick being her white knight was a pleasing thought.
She has to think realistically though. "I'll be perfectly fine Nick. While I love all this attention and concern for my sake...you don't have to worry about my safety, I promise." Foot reaches out to poke at his knee. "What you have to worry about is keeping me sated, mon cher. That's already a a full time job, hm."
A small smirk spreads across his lips as he ushers her to his car ( only 64 were ever made !! ). And, of course like the gentleman he is, he opens the door for her. A hand is placed at the small of her back.
" Calm down, Carmen Berzatto. "
Nick gets in, starts the car, and takes off.
" Yeah, that all sounds lovely. You can make me whatever you want. Make a huge mess, I don't give a fuck. " Whatever she wants, to keep her happy, because lord knows they probably both need that. Besides, he enjoyed making people happy, in a selfish way. They get what they want, he feels good about it. It's a win, win situation.
His request makes her pout. "That's not fair, hm. I couldn't drown that poor thing." Although she's killed a number of other fowl a number of other ways in the kitchen. Drowning them in brandy seems to be especially cruel though, even for her.
Her pout disappears when he reemerges, of course, Didi only growing more excited as she thought of what she could possibly make him. She's hoping whatever was at the market would help inspire her. That's how it would be when she has a restaurant after all— using what she had to make something unexpected and delicious.
"Hm, I bullied one of my peers at school into telling me where he shopped— he apprenticed at this lovely Moroccan bistro and always had the best ingredients." And when she wanted something, she always got it.
"It's in Fort Lauderdale. Very quaint, hm. And they have wine, so we'll have everything we need— I'm thinking Mediterranean." Her voice sounds so dreamy as she talks. "Branzino. Garlic confit. Maybe grilled octopus, hm. Potatoes in white wine, with za'atar and butter. Mon Dieu, I love butter."
//Hugo is very glad he has many dots :3
from here
he ticks all the right boxes that’s all that matters ok 😭😭
Didi should have known what she was getting herself into upon the moment they made things official. Well, official in the fact that he's her fucking sugar daddy. This man cannot stay in a monogamous relationship to save his life- a sex addiction is a real addiction. Unfortunately most people don't see it as him needing help, they see it as him not giving a fuck. And eight times out of ten, they'd be right.
His hand raises in defense and in an attempt to calm her down, though clearly it doesn't work when she's biting down hard and breaking inked skin on his hand. The smell of blood is pungent, and it wasn't how he was expecting Didi to react.
Hand reaches for her throat, wrapping around and squeezing tightly. Were he thinking right, this wouldn't be HIS first reaction... but it's a good thing he wasn't, because if not, she'd be on the way to the ER. Drugs fog his head, however, saving her from that fate.
" What the FUCK is your problem ?? LET GO. "
💔 YOU DIDN'T INVITE HER! | @thehollyverse
"Don't—" He's shoved away, her voice cracking slightly. Didi's been mad before, that was a known fact. On any given day she seemed to drift between blinding rage and satisfaction and hedonism and back again.
But it's been some time since she's been made to feel so low. Didi used people, because she was selfish and horrid, but behind her massive ego she only seemed to have space for one person at a time. Someone to fawn over and toy with. Someone she could con into make her the center of their universe— because it's what she deserved.
And yet he's fucking other people. Like it was easy too. Like she hadn't made a dent in his psyche at all.
"No, just—" She feels stupid and she can feel rising panic creep up her throat. What's even worse is that she should know better; why was she letting him make her feel anything? Like he was the important one—Her mind runs wild, cruel thoughts piling up to deflect the humility, like hurting him would somehow make her feel better.
The thing is, from past experience she knows it does. It does make her feel good. So fucking good.
His hand is held out, attempting to calm her, console her perhaps—
Her mouth is suddenly a bear trap that refuses to be pried open. Didi's tugging back like a dog with a chew toy, trying to tear off his fingers, putting more and more pressure until she can taste wet metal filling up in her mouth.
She doesn't know if she can stop herself. Or if she even wants to. She'd argue she's never been good with self restraint.
Didi is surely to bruise with the grip this man has on her now. And with half lidded eyes, he watches her from between her thighs once more. Nick hums and whines against her, eating like he was a starved man she were a dinner laid out just for him.
It's funny, how lost he gets in her. Where most men would do it reluctantly, he does it happily. He does it for the reward of praise, and to get his woman a right mess underneath him. The man is an asshole, you can most definitely say that about him. But what you CAN'T say is that he is a selfish lover.
Hips continue to grind into the mattress, moaning into Didi's heat. Mouth laps at the bundle of nerves just right. He's already rock hard behind the confines of his slacks, and it's growing to be uncomfortable between him and the bed. It does not stop him, however, from his work. No, instead he pulls a hand from her thigh and presses two digits behind slick folds. Carefully he works them in and out, in tandem with his tongue.
She always liked a man with some initiative. He didn't whine, didn't fuss, just held her down and lapped at her cunt with nearly the same amount of enthusiasm Didi would have if it had been the other way around.
Although, it would be nice to have some use of her hips. Nick's grip doesn't allow her to move all too much, just writhe and buck occasionally— regardless of the limitations, she loves it all the same and she petted at his head and squeezed her thighs around his head to indicate that he better not stop.
And praise, she gives him a simple word of encouragement and she's almost immediately rewarded with a Nick she doesn't think many people have had the privilege to meet. This version of Nick was pliable, panting hard through wet lips and groaning at a little pet name. Practically begging for it.
Oh, he's so very lucky he's got a good grip on her or else she might have flipped him and rode his tongue so he could be a really good boy. Thankfully(?), she's kind. She strokes at his hair, smiling down at him with her flushed cheeks.
Didi props herself on an elbow, the hand in his hair suddenly tightening its grip. His whimpering lips are led back down where she wants him. "You are a good boy, hm." She ruts against his mouth, eyes flashing as her lips part into another abrupt moan. "—A—And! ...If you're very, very good, I'll give you a treat, hm?"
@dxsole | cont.
Of course she's sure. Holly has never been more sure about anything in her entire life, other than the fact that he is the one. But that's a different story for a different time.
Holly swallows under his touch, grin spread wide from ear to ear and teeth sink into her bottom lip. She loves it when he does that, touches her like that. It's like a switch in her brain flips off, and she doesn't have to think for the rest of the night, just focus on Hugo.
Eyes close for a moment as she leans into his touch. Digits move to grasp gently at his shirt. A low giggle bubbles up from her throat, playful in nature.
" Ich habe keine Geduld. Ich will dich in mir, Hugo. " Though she'd gladly get on her knees right this moment if he asked- her own needs be damned.
Buzz from the liquor is felt now, a giggle being made, and a deep flush spreads from one ear to the other. Lips press to the can, finishes the beer she had, and tosses it in the nearest trash.
" GOOD- you can get me another one there. " She was due for a new one anyways. It had grown warm in her hand, but she never wasted a thing like that. " Well it wont be a very interestin' story. " It never was. She was as boring as boring could get. " I'm Holly, by the way. "
No one who knew him would refer to him as a gentleman. He wasn't the worst person in the gym, far from it in fact, but he had a bad habit of going through partners faster than underwear.
Many hearts have been broken by that baby face of his.
She agrees and his smile widens. He does look exactly like his poster, all million-dollar smile and boyish charm. "Nice." His coach would probably have a fit if he knew Donny was going out drinking, but surely a beer or two with a pretty girl was just as important as preparing for the ring. Donny needed to live a little too.
"C'mon then. An' a pretty girl like ya can tell me all about what yer doin' front row at a boxing match, yeah?"
@dxsole | cont.
It did take him a moment to register, but it's the slap that kicks him into gear and he does as he's told. God, he loves it when she takes control, but he HATES it when there's no touching allowed. He's a very physical man, he needs his hands on her, or digits wrapped around his erection. He needs to do SOMETHING with them ( he's Italian, for Christ sake, he talks with the damn things ).
There's a sigh as he sits, watching, waiting for her to disrobe. His heart pounds in his chest out of excitement. The man receives joy from this. If he were to Marie Kondo his life, he'd never 86 this shit.
Hands grasp at his knees the moment she takes control, fingers wrapped around short, dark tendrils, and he hums against her. God, his hardened length is already almost too much to bear, trapped behind his zipper with no way out any time soon. Nick will make sure she understands later just how frustrating it is, but for now, he's content on lapping at her cunt as his nails dig into the fabric of his slacks on his thighs.
His tears wrap their hands around her heart and squeeze so fucking tight it hurts. God, she wish she could take it back. Holly doesn't realize she has a problem, though. She knows she drinks a lot, and does, but she is under the impression of 'I can stop any time'. That's the biggest fucking lie to herself, to Hugo especially.
Chest rises with a sigh. Holly throws the blanket off of herself. She reaches over to pick up the empty bottle and heads to the kitchen without a word. She's not pissed off. At least not at him, no. At herself, absolutely. More than he would ever know- because she hates being reminded of those things you've worked so hard to forget. She's been there, done that. And none of it was fun.
Bottle is thrown in the trash now, and she reminds herself to empty out the others later ( she won't ). The woman wants nothing more than to hug him, squeeze him tight and hold his head to her chest and tell him that everything is okay and that she means no harm but she knows it's best to go against that. Not right now, not when she reek's of her own sins.
Instead, Holly moves to the bathroom that Hugo had called home for the better part of three hours and strips, turning on the shower and hopping in. She doesn't care much that the door was left open. No, but this conversation was one meant to be had when Holly had sobered up a little bit.
There were problems in every relationship. He knew that and was reminded of that sad fact of life by the little elderly ladies in his knitting circle— everyone has things that are raw and tender and loving someone meant allowing them to touch those places.
And sometimes it hurts. And sometimes they don't initially handle it with care. And sometimes they don't even realize how tender you really were.
Holly is being braver than him, shaking her head at his apology, not breaking in front of him due to how he shut her out, how she comforts him with her words— she may not think she was so good, but Hugo knew she was.
Even if he had been frightened— another day when this didn't sting so much, he might laugh at it. He had been so terrified, bad memories and associations flooding his senses...like Holly could harm him. Like she would think to do such a thing. That in her inebriated state she would stop loving him and turn into someone who hated him.
He thinks she should hate him for how he acted, no matter how valid the reaction may have been for what he's been through.
"...Yes, I did." Not entirely, but he had a hand in it. He didn't tell her. Didn't warn her. "I did not..." A hand runs down his face and he can feel how it still shakes. It's barely noticeable, barely felt, but against his lips, he can feel how the nerves beneath the skin jump.
"...I do not drink...because I am...afraid I will become something bad." Hugo starts, slow, soft, like any of the words he speaks might be the one to make him fall apart. "I grew up with someone who...drank and was cruel to me."
The empty bottle on the ground by her feet seems to mock him, the dim light still making it glint and reminding him of its presence. "When I smell it," He can feel a tear he didn't even know was forming slide down his cheek. "...I am reminded."
Hand wipes away the wet streak on his cheek, the heel of his hand digging into his eye, pushing back any tears that threatened to spill. "I don't...I don't want to be reminded. I have tried so hard to...to forget."
Does she look at him ?? And if she does, does she smile ?? Does she apologize ?? Holly's usually good at these situations, but never has she dealt with something like this. It's strange territory she's stepping into, but she does hope the man knows she means no harm in it. Finally she does decide to tear her gaze from her phone and give him a glance.
" I'm sure you're very handsome, Philo. "
Though she's never seen his face, not really. Holly looks back at her phone, deciding that the topic at hand wasn't something they needed to discuss any further. She's sure he doesn't wanna give her a sob story, and Holly doesn't want to sound patronizing. Finger scrolls at the screen again.
" Oh, look, they have seitan. "
He snickers— fun time is all the time with Philo! Apparently!
Once she's settled in, he's off. They cruise in his pickup— which you would think for a guy who is paid to kill people would be a little nicer or at least a newer model— towards the little vegan truck, which should be across town in the little strip of food trucks he frequents. "Maybe after we can visit one of the sweet food trucks. Get donuts or something; there's a space-themed one! Astro-nut." Terrible name, really. But it's there.
The topic shifts from bad business names to his mask and Philo chuckles. He gets a lot of questions about it, mostly from people on the street. Employers don't care what he wears so long as he does a job but everyone else feels pretty uncomfortable about it.
"I take it off to shower. And to wash it 'cause you can imagine how dirty it can get." He sniffs, shrugs. "But, uh, yeah I wear it all the time." Thumbs nervously tap at the wheel as he drives, unsure how to explain it without sounding...sad.
"I have issues with...uh, my face. Don't like looking at it. So...mask! Works really well for the job. And it's a conversation starter!"
" Mm, uh, no, I will not be doing that. " He says. Is he joking, or is he serious ?? No one can tell.
Nick makes a mental note of that- 'give Didi more compliments'. It will be forgotten by tomorrow. Though he can say he tried, for the most part.
She's curling up to him now and taking the hand rolled joint, inhaling, exhaling, and coughing. Nick raises his brows. There's no laugh, there's no smile, but you can hear it on his voice as he speaks his next words. Fingers trap the thing between them.
" Yeah, I can tell. " He admits. Always found it funny, wasn't she French or something ?? They smoked like chimneys... he woulda thought they could handle a little bit of weed every now and then. Guess she's weaker than he thought.
Thankfully for them both, Didi wasn't much of a killer. Accidental manslaughter due to her own hubris that she would vehemently deny was her fault in any way was much more her thing.
Nick points to himself and her head tilts. "The girl with this face," She points to her own, she would say devastatingly gorgeous mug. "wouldn't mind a proper compliment from time to time, hm. It would be nice and I would like to not have to start twisting nipples or pulling ears just to hear one."
She seems to calm only when he agrees to let her use the card, Didi quickly making her way over to him, curling up to his side like a cat. "You're very sweet to me." He even offers a joint— Didi hardly smoked anything (fruity, overly alcoholic drinks with silly names seemed to be her vice of choice), but Nick did, and often. Enough for her to be a little more used to it.
Although, she takes one dainty puff, swallows down a cough with a shudder and a whine, and hands it back over, murmuring, "I'm not very good with those, hm."
Nick thinks for a moment. He thinks about squeezing and squeezing and squeezing until she's no longer a crying, sniveling, writhing mess underneath him. He'd crawl on top of her and continue to do so until the lights went out in her eyes, all because she even DARED to take a bite out of him. Maybe he'd see his mother or father in her, finally getting the revenge he was owed on them. It should have been him, not some fucked up junkie on the street.
That moment flits away as fast as it had come, and when he see's how truly fucked up she was... he take a milisecond longer than he should have to release his grip on her throat. However the thought he had conjured up seconds beforehand remained in the middleground of his mind.
Untouched hand comes up to nurse the injured one, eyes assessing the damage she had inflicted on his tattoos ( he has the money to fix them, that's not a problem, but it's the fact that he's been inconvenienced with it in the first place ). He's inconsiderate about the whole situation. Had she not have bitten him, he would have considered feeling bad for the woman, but that was thrown out the door the second she latched on.
" Didi, what the fuck is your problem ?? " He asks, voice lower than it had been previously. Both hands now covered in blood.
She should have. She doesn't for the very simple fact that she can't allow the idea that she may not be enough for him enter her head. Didi's been there; felt the horror of not being good enough no matter how she would carve out pieces of herself because then maybe she'll fit the mold better. Didi decided a long time ago that it was better to act out than let herself feel that small ever again.
Especially because sugar daddy's were a dime a dozen. How many people had money? Loads. How many were stupid enough to fall for a few bats of her lashes and a hand on their thigh? Enough.
And if they didn't bend to her, she'd punch them in the goddamn throat and take their wallet.
All of that was better than this. This horrid feeling that she couldn't get him entirely under her thumb. That, whether he meant to hurt her or not, that she was still made to feel so insignificant.
And then it suddenly gets worse.
The teeth that were so hellbent on skinning him from the knuckle down suddenly release him. Blood is smeared over her teeth, making them as pink as her gums, and her lips, making her look more horrifying than she currently felt.
Hands grip her neck and suddenly she can't breathe. He's not even pressing hard enough to do so, but it's as if her throat caves in on itself and she can't catch her breathe no matter how she wheezes. Everything comes back to her in one sweeping wave of horrible, disjointed memories.
Nick couldn't have known. Didi had mentioned, once before, that it was was simply not her thing. She didn't care for being choked, were her exact words. It was made to sound like a preference, not the death sentence it felt like. Once again she refused to show weakness and now there is a physical consequence to her stubbornness.
Didi cries (And she doesn't cry unless it's on cue. She'd rather bleed out than show her genuine tears). It's that quiet sort of sob that starts with parted lips and squinted eyes, like she was desperately trying to scream yet nothing could come out. Then all at once, streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably as she shudders in his grasp, still trying to scream...something but unable.
They're at an impasse. There is a fear in her eyes and not just because of what he's done— she's completely terrified of something that he can't see and that she won't share. And why should she? They don't mean anything to each other.
Nick should be the one begging for it- but he can't help the groan she forces out of his mouth at her words. Fuck, it drives his fingers faster and his tongue quicker. His arm comes up to lay across her hips, holding her right in her place. She won't be going anywhere until he's has her finishing and riding out her orgasm on his tongue.
" Mmm- " He groans against her, hoping the vibrations add something his fingers cannot. A small shake of his head, and he's locked in. Not even the lord himself could pry Nickolas from between this woman's heavenly thighs, for here is home. Whether he has his face buried, or his cock seated deep inside of her. Whether she's on top or he can't control the thrusting he's started.
Bruises never bothered her much. Besides, it was like a little reminder of what they did. She could tug down her panties tomorrow and show him how much if a brute he was...and how maybe he needed to make it up to her on his knees again.
Although, she is currently appreciating all of this attention. And while everyone enjoys feeling adored, to Didi there was something very special about feeling like the other person was going slightly insane about her. Get obsessed with her. Keep lapping at her core like it was your last meal, Nick. She might make that treat she promised extra special.
Especially seeing as he was still humping the bed so pitifully. Poor thing. He doesn't even has his pants off—
Her mind wanders a bit, but Nick quickly brings her back to her senses when he slips two fingers in.
It's almost obscene, that slick sound her body makes when he does so. Didi, for once, is almost made embarrassed by her own need, cheeks flushing red as she melts back onto the bed— oh, and what's that? A whimper? She's suddenly not so high and mighty as she rolls her hips in time with his licks and thrusts.
The grip on his hair has eased up, becoming a far more gentle stroking than the previous yanking. "Nick—" Didi breathes out before hips instinctively buck against his mouth. "Faster."
And just to feel that she still has some semblance of control over the situation, "You don't have to be so gentle with me, hm. You know I can take it."
Even if he didn't intend for it to be this way, she felt like his eyes bore into the back of her. To be fair, she wouldn't want to look away either, were the roles reversed. There's so may new things to look at, he'll have to learn her body all over again one day, when she's comfortable enough.
His eyes don't bring an uneasiness. In fact, she's quite used to it now. That man had hardly left her alone, and when he did, it was in the dark for hours, sometimes even days on end. And when he was there, he'd stare at her. Do nothing most of the time but sit and stare at her. It brought a weird comfort to Holly, knowing Hugo was watching. It was her new norm, and he had brought that back to her.
Hands make quick work of changing, pulling her shirt over her torso, pulling her pants up and buttoning them. Boring, mundane things, but it felt nice to wear normal clothes again. Especially something that belonged to her, though, she supposed that those loaners were hers now too.
His question is heard, though he stands, still facing the bed. She's quiet, hands gripping at biceps as she folds her arms over her chest. Teeth chew on the inside of her cheek, and she swears she chewed so hard there was a hole in her skin now... though she tastes no blood. There isn't even any feel of it. Holly shakes her head no.
" I can't feel anythin'. " And she forgets for a moment that he cannot hear what she says. Holly turns, head tilting as she gets a good look at him. There's another shake of her head no.
" No, Hugo. " His name still feels foreign on her tongue. She hadn't said his name in months, close to a year.
Hugo has learned that why is a dangerous question to ask. Before her, he used to ask it all the time; why him? Why couldn't he have a normal life? A mundane, boring one— he would rather live with the monotony than the memories he harbored.
And then she entered his life, changing it completely. And he only ever asked why had someone so lovely fallen for him? Many times he felt he didn't deserve it while another part of him asked again; why not? Why could he not be happy now?
He doesn't want to ask again. It felt like tempting fate to start questioning things. They were allowed one beautiful romance and had been reunited despite hopeless circumstances. Even now, she may not look exactly as he remembered her, as she looked in the pictures of her in his study, but her touch feels the same. Colder, maybe, but he knows how Holly felt in his hands.
He can feel another sting in his eyes but he keeps his gaze firm. She didn't need to see him this way. She's been through enough without the added sorrow.
Even if her retracting from him stings more than the tears. For a brief moment of silent panic he wonders if she doesn't want o be near him. If whatever she's been through has made her afraid— afraid of others, maybe, he could understand that. But not him. Please not him.
Hugo only nods at her request, following behind at a safe distance, thinking it would be best to continue to give her space until...until what exactly? She got settled? He didn't know what that might look like now. Whatever this new life of hers was, he still wished to be a part of it.
Clothes are gathered. Borrowed clothes removed as Hugo stands in the doorway, head bowed to give her partial privacy— not fully, as he still worries if he looks away completely he may lose her— but even with his head down he could see them. The white lines across legs. The small healed nicks along bare feet.
Defensive wounds, like she had curled herself up to escape blows. Feet scars from running barefoot through harsh underbrush.
"Are you..." He exhales softly to steady his voice. "Are you in any pain?"
@dxsole asked: He's sipping his afternoon coffee a little too intensely. And he's quiet— well, Hugo is often quiet but he did seem to enjoy their morning chit-chats. Today it seemed he didn't have much to say— he only seems to ease up when he sees something moving in the corner of his eye. "Ah, have you seen Traugott?" It's said as casually as he could, seeing as he'd been silent for so long before. He nods his chin towards the rat that was now waddling in; Traugott had on a new sweater, a soft fuzzy green, and some sort of box tied up around his middle. Traugott, apparently, was none too pleased about being a ring bearer and made a sudden u-turn, making Hugo nearly choke on his coffee. "You might want to— get him," Although he's already stepping to grab the little troublemaker. "That's— that's for you."
Finger flips page after page of the book she's currently got her nose shoved in, hardly paying attention to the dedicated sipping Hugo's got going on. Holly can't tell the difference, not when she's so distracted by the plot. It's a good book, one that might become her favorite.
Finger presses to ink as she marks the spot she had left off, eyes following Hugo's own gaze to see the fat little rat waddling about, a nice fuzzy sweater wrapped around him. It's funny to see the little box sway back and forth. Book mark is now pressed into the spine of the book, closing it and setting it on the table.
" Why's he got somethin' for me ?? " She asks- though she's sure he didn't catch that. Holly stands, following in tow as Hugo scrambles for the rat, and in a sing song voice: " Traugoooootttt !! "
@dxsole | cont.
Patience is not her virtue- not when it comes to Hugo, anyways. ESPECIALLY when he's between her thighs, nipping at the sensitive flesh. It sends a gentle jerk throughout her body, and she's sighing immediately. He presses his lips fully to her core and that's when she's stopped caring.
Holly knows he can't hear her, she knows he likes to watch, but the moment she feels any sort of pleasure, she's laid down completely, back arching into the mattress. Fingers lace through his blonde hair and hips roll upwards into his mouth softly.
Holly can't help it when he makes her feel this good already, whines and moans spilling from her lips, and thighs trembling around his head, even if she tries to keep them spread apart for him. It's difficult when he's good at what he does.
Toes curl, eyes squeeze shut and she's rolling hips up into his touch once again. His name leaves her lips- even if he can't hear it, she still does it just for him.
@dxsole | cont.
Nick would prefer the slap, but a kiss is most welcome too. It's funny to him that whenever he does mention his sex drive, most people laugh him off. He's not kidding though. But what he DOESN'T realize is how bad it is, it's become an ADDICTION. One he needs serious help for. But how could he say no when he's got a beautful lady so willing to ride him ?? ( unfirtunately, regardless of who it was, man or woman, he would not have said no ).
Digits squeeze her milky white flesh, nails pressing half moons into her. Teeth sink into his lower lip as he grins and eyes pull from her gaze, finding the spot between their two bodies where they meet. Yes, Didi makes pretty faces, but this is much more pleasing for him to watch, unfortunately.
" Yeah- " He says, casually. " I know, baby. "
Nickolas King Russo is no quitter- he wont stop until she's a shaking and crying mess in hopes of recieving praise. Because he IS a good boy. And he deserves to be told so. Especially by a pretty lady like Didi.
Hips stop as he's focused now on her release, fingers curling upwards to hit that spot every single time as his tongue continues its movement against the bundle of nerves. He laps and laps and laps and doesn't come up for air any time soon, not until her slick is covering his fingers and his beard is wet. Fuck, he could stay here forever.
She's held down once more and it earns him a giggle— it's a short-lived sound as a moan replaces it as he does exactly as he's asked. Had she been more coherent she may have offered him some more praised, telling him how good he made he feel, how much she loved his touch— sentences are lost to her now.
Those thighs he's praising squeeze against his head seeing as she can't squirm away from all the humming and suckling and thrusting.
She did tell him she could take it and she could, but again, her mind does wander. Did she want to cum like this or by riding his pretty face? Or perhaps she should wait until she could be bent over something— or, seeing as Nick was certainly a strong man, he could just pin her to a wall where they'll be face to face and she could tell him pointblank what a good boy he was—
Perhaps her overactive imagination was a curse as it's only bringing her closer to the edge and making her tremble in his grasp.
His fingers curl in her and she lets out a sudden squeal that devolves into pleased laughter. "Again— do that again." Hands find his head again, now using poor Nick as something to steady herself with, lightly scratch at him as he nearly brings her over the edge— it was so close that her entire body jolted from the sensation. "Almost— please."