/ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐌 *

the 'ahhhhhhhhhhh' club updates.

"Shhh pet. Nothing but moans and groans will be allowed for the foreseeable future. I'm sure you understand." Enola said before setting to work. Mouth worked away at Nini's neglected little bud as one had moved to squeeze and pinch one of the other woman's breasts. She worked first one finger and then another of her free hand into her wet heat. Sea searching and then quickly finding that spongy button of nerves inside. The succubus purred as she played the witch's body like a well-tuned instrument.

hips rising, unable to stay on the table, digits digging into the demoness's ebony capillaries, keeping her as close as she can, only to know that it's still not enough. she wants to fuck enola, wants to feel her in her bones, wants her to tear her fucking soul out if that's what it takes, just to bring her to paradise. " oh, baby… please don't torture me like this. " the moan falls so well to her lips when she feels the tease on her delicate boobs, making her shiver under the pressure of the other's tongue, only to gasp and arch her back when she feels the slide of fingers into her tight entrance, rolling her hips to meet them, making them go deeper and hit that spot that made her scream in pleasure.

"Depends on your tolerance. You need to shoot for that sweet spot between buzzed and drunk without being sloppy." She'd probably had about six shots before her friend had fallen asleep and Molly had ventured out into the living room. This was definitely the worst idea she could have come up with tonight. She wouldn't be surprised if anything happened between them and afterwards he pretended as if she didn't exist. Still, she was drawn in like a moth to the flame. Lips parted slightly as his hands wrap around her waist and the woman allowed Huxley to pull her onto his lap. Trying her best to not appear flustered at their now close proximity and his suggestion, Molly busied herself with pulling her hair back into a ponytail. "I'd hardly call myself overdressed." A pair of soft cotton shorts left most of her legs exposed while an old t-shirt from the university she'd attended covered most of the shorts. Smoothing her hair back, she flashed him a smile. "What do I get if I win?"

huxley had inherited his mother's obsessive trait, although it was a sadistic aspect of his personality and not an emotional trait to give himself to others with everything he had. he was similar to his father, from his propensity for sarcasm to his selectivity, certainly the charm of always having the acrylic container in hand with double doses of the amber liquid. That night had been no different, the whisky bitter on his lips, mixing with the acrid menthol of his cigarettes, but he was in control, to the point that, with his gaze still locked on hers, he poured tequila into the glasses, sipping shots in succession until the burning in his throat was not felt and the tenderness had long left his face. " i'd say i'm like an opala… that means I'm on the direct path to alcoholism or liver cancer. " the digits trailed down the soft skin of her legs, caressing that addictive ivory hue, venturing on trails that went nowhere. " believe me, better than that… only if you were naked and i can work on making that occur. " the hoarse, guttural laughter falls between them, one of his hands slowly reaching up her back until the strands are wrapped around his fingers, tugging them lightly as he brings his lips to her ear. " IF you win, i promise to be a good boy and do whatever you wish, m'lady, how's that? "

Her face twisted into a scowl. "Jerk," she mumbled under her breath. Crossing her arms over her chest, she resisted the childish urge to stomp away from him. Instead she blew out a breath and reluctantly followed him down a different path. His plan sounded solid for the most part, but Cora didn't exactly remember walking past or hearing any running water since they'd begun their trek through the woods. Hawken's word creeped her out though, a low chill running down her spine. "So you feel that too?" she questioned, glad not to be the only one weirded out. "Because I also didn't want to mention it since we were lost and everything, but I keep getting this feeling that something's been watching us." But she really hoped her fear was just getting the best of her. Nodding her head at the question, she shifted her backpack so it hung over her chest. "Well not exactly lanterns, but I do have some flashlights and matches."

his jaw twitched before declining, causing him to arch his dark eyebrows in a mischievous countenance of pure amusement. shades of caramel scanning the surrounding grove, it was a palpable certainty that there was someone else there with them, perhaps if he kept his eyes peeled he might catch a glimpse amidst the dense trunks, but he was so exhausted from the walk that he hardly believed he would succeed. " whatever it is, it's not a fucking animal, otherwise it would have already advanced on us. " a positive nod from him, the shadow of a smile hovering over his lips as he threw his backpack in front of his feet, searching for his hunting knife. " we're good, for now. i'll go after some smaller branches to make a fire, i should have some snacks if you're hungry. " handed her the backpack as he tucked the knife into his belt. " do you think it might be hunters, has the hunting season opened? "

This conversation was hurting his heart, and his brain. He was confused as to what Finegan was trying to say here. Was he trying to get Wes back? His words were almost confusing, despite the fact Wes understood the words he was saying. A few months, that's the part that hurt. That he had Wes hurting for months when he never even wanted to leave him in the first place.

watery eyes, holding back tears that he wouldn't let fall there. trembling lips, holding back truths that would die on his tongue, because he wouldn't say everything he wanted to say, he wasn't ready for that. maybe, this was his private divine comedy, because, he was looking at his beatrice, wishing so ardently to get to heaven; to him. even knowing that in the end, he wouldn't leave purgatory.

no matter what she was going to be in his life, whether he likes it or not. it was like a little game they had going on, except he didn't really hate her as much as he leads her to believe. "in your dreams mae, you'll never get to fuck me no matter how much you want to." another smirk plasters across his lips as he shakes his head. "well, i hate you even more," seems that everything between them was a competition. despite all the hateful words that leaves his lips, she always returns for more. the sound of her laughter causes him to smile a bit, a real smile which he easily covers up with another whack to her face. "you're the one who started it, so who's the ridiculous one now?" he inquires, quirking a brow hovering over her as he laughs even more. "you wouldn't dare screaming because we both know that you don't want our parents to find us in this position."

there's no getting away from the laughter that bubbles over the softness of those rosy lips, caramel tones rise to meet his face, not containing the spark that lights up her eyes with the guy's good humour. he deserved points there and, she'd be able to give him some. " ah, but I liked you… that's just my way of 'talking without saying' that, well, my eyes were on you… eventually. " lips arched in a playful laugh.

Joseph's grandmother had an idea for having a portrait done of Joseph, and his grandfather, in their Marine Corps dress blue uniforms, side by side. Something that could be a family heirloom to be passed down maybe. But, before he could return from his service in Afghanistan, both of his grandparents had passed. Still, the idea stuck with him, so, he had commissioned an artist to do the portrait, transferring his grandfather's likeness from a photo from when the old man's service in the Pacific theater was over, and Joseph, posing himself for his half of the artistic work. What he had not expected, after a few days of posing, was what happened after an afternoon of standing at attention. An offer of wine, which he graciously accepted, but, only sipped, while the woman probably indulged more than she should have. To say that passions ran wild was an understatement, as the condition of the bedsheets the next morning, and the little bite marks on both their bodies would attest too. It was awkward that morning, he certainly felt no shame, the were both adults after all, but, the woman seemed a bit,...embarrassed at the situation, rushing him off, while trying not to look like she was rushing him out of the place. He was afraid he was going to have to find someone to start the portrait all over, but, assurances were given the work would be done. Then, a couple days later, a call, asking him to return to the studio to pose some more. After arriving, the woman is professional, like nothing happened between them a few nights before, instructing him where to sit and look,...though, he would rather look at the woman, than the wall behind her. When seated, he says, "Oh, I think I can do that well enough, did that in mountain desert heat for hours upon hours, this chair, and air conditioned room will be no challenge." He wonders if he should mention anything about that night, or was it a 'one and done' thing, as far as the woman was concerned. To his mind, that would be a tragedy really.

lucifer was aware that he should get the taste of her off his lips, because it was as addictive as the whiskey that had been there. but everything about sofia was indelible, the softness of her lips against his, how her body seemed to mould itself in primor to his. but fuck, he couldn't go that deep into it, not when he was fucking bad at relationships, he wasn't what one would call a 'nice guy' and god, how there was pleasure in fucking with the minds of girls like her and breaking their pure hearts. they were definitely better off as friends. yes, that would be it. just friends. bullshit, the mind whispered. one of the eyebrows arched at her speech, the lips twisted in a laugh of indignation as tones of a raunchy ocean spilled to her lips, rising in tempestuous waves to her eyes. " tonight seems to be a night for mistakes, why not bring me some tequilas? " lucifer felt his features give way to a mask of wicked playfulness. " can you come and go without me having to search or rescue you, otherwise i'll think you want more of my kisses, mia bella. "

Whitlock shook his head at her salute, he wasn't going to correct her form or tell her that she shouldn't do that or run around calling someone 'soldier' because she didn't know better. He wasn't going to mansplain branches and titles, proper saluting form, or any of it. Instead he just sighed and moved on. "No, kiddo, not everyone needs someone, at least not like you're implying." Lock gave her an apologetic smile in case what he said hurt her feelings, but he wasn't the kind of guy to lie either.

rhiannon let herself be carried away by the friction, as their lips collided she found herself more and more at his beck and call, so despite the violence that was her existence, so restrained by the way his tongue trailed over hers, sending shivers down her spine, making her shudder under demanding, exhausted lips. there's an apology carved in the emerald eyes, but that woman can't stop herself from being who she is. what she does is accept, a nod, a vague smile and lungs inflated with everything she could say in a single breath of air, but she doesn't. " i never said you were broken to be fix. "

Unlike his father, Benji had a huge urge to do things right especially when it was about his friends and those dear to him. The young man could be cruel and heartless to those who deserved it but at the same time, he had a huge craving for justice. Just like right now, he wanted to do justice to Tate, and putting her ex in his place was necessary to him. Benji cleaned up his nose after looking into the inner mirror of the car. The bleeding was getting a little better luckily. Maybe he wasn't in need to see a doctor, that was positive news. The young man clicked his tongue before fastening his seat belt. Then he turned to look at his friend again. ❝Are you trying to protect him right now? It kinda feels like that to me right now.❞ He didn't want to make the whole conversation serious so it was nice to have a little change. ❝Oh, makes sense now. So, I hope you aren't doing any illegal racing.❞ It was just a joke from his side. ❝Honestly? Nah, I'm not. I'm lucky I know how to drive.❞

tate had always attracted bullies throughout her life, guaranteed to bring the sadistic fun they were always interested in, but she had learnt in terrible ways that this was her business and it could always get worse when it involved someone else. she was aware that she should push benji away, but when was the last time she had allowed herself to smile so much and laugh without the fear of upsetting the other? it was a relief to be in the presence of someone who just allowed her to be. she had been exhausted for a long time, memories of happiness so far away to recall. " calm down private hero! i'm getting on the right side of justice, ok? " for a split second, her hands detach from the steering wheel and rise up in redemption. " it depends… is that my friend questioning or the heroic vigilante? " a wink is sent his way, the laughter becoming something comfortable to her lips. " i guess that's the only thing that keeps me close to my family, let's just say i didn't inherit anything else. " shoulders shrug and she spins the wheel at the fork, one hand going to the gear shift and changing the gear. " you've never told me about your family… what brings you together? are you more like your mum or your dad? "

lilla was a shaky ground, always had been. destroying everything she tried to build, being responsible for every demolition and every ruin that had existed in her existence. it was far beyond a damn self-sabotage. it was terribly about this fear of trying and failing, she had built a comfort zone in this limbo, never owning something, never being something. it was gratifying to stand in her shoes and recognise it, and god, she'd thought she could be content with that until she met him. no matter how shitty she was, he wasn't running away when she exploded. he was giving her something solid to cling to, but that raging anger hurt more than it healed, and in that moment, it's almost too painful for her to realise what she was doing to him. her upper lip trembles preluding crying, but she refuses to cry in front of him. that's something she won't give him.