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eowynstwin · 5 months ago

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professor price

professor price x reader. age gap. older man/younger woman. pining. pre-relationship. jealousy. angst. guilt. voyeurism. mvp alejandro. lightly explicit. - A Christmas gift to my friend @guyfieriii, centered around her own Professor Price au from all the way back in early 2023. I have linked each fic of hers that I reference in this work—highly recommend you check them out.

The first day of class you’re in the front row—center seat.

Old instincts never really retire even if the body leaves the field; a moment’s evaluation opens you like a book. Pencil pouch on your desk, set parallel to the edge. Syllabus in the middle, creased at the stapled corner but otherwise pristine. Water bottle at the corner, solid blue.

You: hair neat. Wearing clean slacks and a knitted sweater like a uniform, ankles crossed, buckled straps of your Mary-Janes intersecting in an obtuse V. Like a flock of birds in formation, flying southwards for the winter. There’s a curated look to you, a careful arrangement of details meant to declare the essence of who you are and what you’re about.

It’s clear immediately; from only a glance.

You’re a good girl.

The eager-to-please kind. The five A-levels kind. The kind who does her bonus assignments because they’re available, not because she needs them. Prim, polished, ironed at the creases.

Straight from a 90s teen drama, or porn of an equal vintage.

You meet his eyes—

And Price knows how it goes.

Boredom and professional stagnancy are the bane of active men. Men with egos. Men who long to fix things. Men who have reached the heights of every achievement now looking for the next peak to summit.

It’s the curse of middle age’s collision with machismo. How does a man prove his masculinity when there’s no proving left to be done? When the panopticon has finally turned its eyes away, satisfied at his self-regulation enough not to constantly surveil it?

Suddenly the performance can end, if he wants it to. Only, if it ends, how does the actor not disappear, when the role is the only identity he’s ever had?

In academia, the answer is—of course—simple:

Fuck a student.

And oh. It’s right there, in those wide, sweet eyes, looking up at him with the reflexive veneration of a star student.

You’re begging to be fucked.

Fucked right. Fucked by someone who knows what he’s doing. Fucked so good that it upends every clean line of you, like breaking furniture, like smashing crystal. Fucked crying, whimpering, groaning beyond recognizable language, sweaty and gross until it’s impossible to tell whether or not his body and yours have begun to fuse.

Fucked the way no snot-nosed twenty-something twat, the age-appropriate kind that sleeps in the back of his lecture hall and then emails him at the end of every semester begging for extra credit to fix his grade, could possibly fuck you.

He holds your gaze for too long. You smile at him, shyly, and he gives you a brusque nod before distracting himself with the papers on his lectern.

You’re too young for him.

Not that it matters.

Price is all about lines. Stark delineations between will and won’t. Before his untimely retirement, the lines had meant everything. They separated the kind of man he was from the kind of man he did not want to be, and they kept those men separate, even when the distance from one to the other narrowed so sharply that the differences between them were a matter of context rather than consequence.

The important one now is the one that splits his lectern off from the rest of the lecture hall. Students are allowed to cross it, of course, or else he would be neglecting his duty to them as their instructor. But they must inevitably leave, and his feet must remain planted squarely on his side of it.

It’s not even a line he drew himself, although he would have if need be. No—professors, at the beginning of their tenure, are warned. Students will construct feelings of intimacy with their teachers, interpreting their passion for academics as passion for the conduit thereof. Close relationships between mentor and mentee, to be sure, can be deeply beneficial for the young scholar’s development—

But they must remain impersonal. The work must be the lens through which student and teacher look at each other. That barrier must never be lifted.

So it doesn’t matter how old you are or aren’t, or that you’re a second-year grad student, or that every time you walk into the classroom Price wants to drag his desk chair over to yours because you’re the only one who seems like she gives a damn about what he teaches.

He may draw his lines, but he never crosses them.

He’s seen it before. Never done it himself. Phillip Graves has a reputation for it.

Of course, as the Americans like to say, innocent until proven guilty, but it’s hard to argue with the pretty girls Graves always seems to have floating around him every semester. Undergrads, even, though to his credit they seem usually to be the older ones.

Price doesn’t think that even Dean Shepherd’s lapdog could get away with fucking freshly legal coeds—mostly because, if Graves tried to pull something like that, Price might actually take matters into his own hands and kill the bastard himself.

As it is, he can’t actually prove that his colleague is sleeping with anyone he shouldn’t be. He’s not in the army anymore; he has no desire to lose sleep over staking out the man’s house.

The only consolation is that no one besides his students and the Dean seem to like Graves—something the man doesn’t seem concerned to rectify, if he even notices. Though Price can’t imagine that he hasn’t noticed. He’s always sitting alone at staff meetings if Shepherd isn’t present, and if he does try to talk to anyone, it’s usually the adjuncts, young women just beginning their careers in higher academia who know the drill by now and merely humor him.

So it shouldn’t surprise Price when, one day, he catches Graves chatting you up.

“Hey, congrats on the election, kid,” he hears him say to you, referencing your recent appointment as president to the student association of his department. Graves smiles, dimpling, all that American charm amped up to the maximum.

And Price sees red.

“Thank you, Professor Graves,” you say politely. You have your arms crossed over your binder, held to your chest, as if a makeshift shield.

“I’d have voted for you if I could’ve,” the other man says. “And hey, I know you Brits like your formalities, but it’s just Phil with me.”

“Erm…”

“There you are,” Price announces from the other end of the hallway.

You turn, and give look you shoot him is so relieved that, almost immediately, it clears the haze from his eyes, like a cool breeze moving through the hottest part of a summer day. Relief of his own floods him, washing the jealousy he’d barely had time to confront completely away.

“Hello, Professor,” you say, “I was just on my way to your office!”

“Good,” says Price, approaching. “Wanted to talk about your last paper. Had some issues with your secondary sources.”

You blanch, and he immediately feels guilty for the lie.

“Ah, go easy on the kid,” says Graves. “I keep telling you, John, no one likes a hardass.”

For some reason, there are two men in the department that Phillip Graves makes a consistent effort to interact with, and Price has the misfortune of being one of them. He’s not sure why—he thinks he’s made his distaste for the man very clear. It’s probably some dick-measuring contest for him; Price’s standing in the department, even despite Shepherd’s favoritism, is secure.

Whether it’s secure enough to withstand this…thing happening between you and him has yet to be seen.

“I hold my students to a higher standard, Graves,” Price says shortly. Then, to you, “Come along, and we’ll talk about it.”

He turns and leaves, and as he hears you hurry after him, an ugly kind of gratification begins purring behind his sternum. The two of you walk for a ways in silence.

“Was it the interviews?” you finally ask him, sounding genuinely upset. “I thought they would be okay, given that they were original transcriptions…”

“Your sources were fine,” Price soothes, unable to take it. “Just needed to give you a good out, didn’t I?”

You falter beside him, but quickly catch up. “Oh no, was I that obvious?”

He looks to you as he walks, catching the anxious expression on your face, and smiles, amused. “Don’t worry, promise you he couldn’t tell.”

Then you laugh. It enter’s Price’s bloodstream and pumps through his veins, all the way to the arteries in his neck. It fills the lobes of his brain, rapidly bringing the world into sharper focus.

“I’ll hold you to that, professor,” you say, and it’s a tether he welcomes, a sting of pleasure as its hook lodges in his ribs.

Price looks over his shoulder, and finds Graves watching the two of you walk away. He doesn’t like the expression on the other man’s face. It’s…knowing. Understanding, in the way of a man having competed for something and lost to the better opponent.

He catches the Graves’ eye, scowling at him; he means for the expression to be disapproving. For Graves to know that Price knows what he’s about, and has no intention of humoring it.

But he knows how it actually comes across.

Back off. She’s mine.

Price’s colleague and friend Alejandro Vargas is the only other man in the department that Graves cares to know, and, luckily for Price, Alejandro shares his dislike.

“He is too young to be acting the way he does,” he says one evening after work. He and Price share a pint at a pub nearby campus on a regular basis.

“Too young?” Price repeats. “What is he, thirty-five? Forty?”

“Who cares,” Alejandro says. “Anyone chasing after his students the way he does should at least be fifty. That way a midlife crisis can at least be a valid excuse.”

Price’s stomach turns. His forty-sixth birthday has already come and gone.

“So you’re sayin’—”

“Man his age can get his ego boost somewhere else,” Alejandro mutters into his tankard. He has a strange way of looking at things, sometimes; as if he were a much older man himself, and not in his prime at thirty-eight. “Don’t they make apps for that nowadays?”

“No excuse for messing with students,” Price agrees, although he tastes the bitter note of hypocrisy in the back of his throat as he thinks of you, and that rainy afternoon.

Driving you home was a mistake, although he can’t think of anything else he would’ve respected himself for doing. He clings to that excuse like a buoy in the ocean—no matter his feelings for you, leaving you on campus to wait until the storm passed, no umbrella, no coat, would have been unforgivable.

He’d played it off as simply doing a favor for his favorite student. A willingness to go beyond his usual responsibilities to you, since you excel beyond what even his high standards demand of you.

Something the two of you should keep between yourselves, for professionalism’s sake, because he has an obligation to treat every student equally.

I can be discreet, you’d said, the tone of your voice playful and also…not.

The way one says something that they mean, while framing it as a joke, just in case it’s taken the wrong way.

Mitigation.

Something he could’ve brushed off, if your hand hadn’t moved toward his.

Good girl. He’d moved his away. Focused on the line. Accepted your apology with grace, determined not to embarrass you for feelings that are only natural—

That are reciprocated, even though they shouldn’t be.

“That is less the problem to me,” Alejandro muses.

“What?” Price exclaims. “Mate, we have a responsibility to these kids. We can’t go treating classrooms like bloody Love Island.”

“It is about the man,” says his colleague. “If a man shows respect in his relationships, then it is not so important where they happen. Graves, he is not a respectful man.”

“No one his age should be with girls that much younger than him,” Price growls.

Alejandro fixes him with an intense look, a serious expression tightening the sharp lines of his face.

“This is what I mean by respect,” he says evenly. Purposefully. “Knowing who is right and wrong to be with. Girls that young? No. They do not know themselves, and Graves will try to tell them who they are. But not every girl is that young.”

Price shifts uncomfortably on his barstool, remembering one late afternoon—when Alejandro had stopped by his office, to find you sitting on the small couch there, studying, as Price finished grading essays.

Innocent, he’d thought. A mentor and his student, sharing space, making room for scholarship to flow between them.

He realizes now, chagrined, that Alejandro has always been too perceptive to accept what he merely observes.

“Mate,” Price says, measured, “It isn’t like that.”

“No,” Alejandro agrees, “it isn’t. That does not mean it can’t be.”

“Alejandro—”

“You are not your father, hermano,” his colleague says, knowing exactly where to strike. “That is the end of what I will say.”

And he sips his beer while leaving Price to seethe.

You’re seeing one of the twats.

Price convinced himself the first couple of times you walked out with him—Will—that you were taking on a charity case. You’re a student leader, after all. Helping a classmate with their ailing grades falls under your purview. You’ve hosted tutoring sessions before, and the pride of it had nestled glowing in his chest so warmly that he couldn’t help bragging about your academic promise to his colleagues.

Even outside of the ache for you that sits in his gut every time he sees you, Price could not be prouder. The students’ Historical Society’s fundraiser last month had gone off beautifully thanks to you, and everyone who had attended was still talking about it: from the brilliant idea for a fifties dress code, to the truly impressive array of antiques you’d convinced donors to contribute to the silent auction.

You’d looked so beautiful in your little red dress, too. The sharp lines of your burgundy lipstick had made your smile so bright all evening that he’d fallen asleep thinking about it.

His student. His protege, really. Of course you’d notice someone struggling, and make an effort to help.

Except, Price has never been very good at fooling himself. The truth is too valuable an asset for him to disregard.

The first time you leave with Will, he feels it clench around something in his gut. He has to remind himself he has no right to feel anything about it at all.

The second time, it starts burrowing deeper. Gnawing a hole in his stomach. The look on the twat’s face, as he follows you out like a lost puppy, is too smitten to allow Price his illusions.

Then one day, you take that twat’s hand in yours at the end of class, slotting your fingers between his.

It descends again. That film of red over his eyes. He stares at the two of you as you make your way to the door—and you throw Price a look, Price, aimed straight for his center.

You’re his. His.

And what has he done about it?

The accusation is in your eyes. It’s honed by everything he’s done—and hasn’t. The late-night chips after fundraiser planning. The cigars between classes, and the scotch in his office he pours every time you stop by to discuss your thesis.

The cufflinks he wears for every single class you’re in, and the box you wrapped them in sitting open on his beside table. Like a conduit for bringing the warmth of your touch into his home.

The same warmth, in his weakest moments, that he imagines wrapped around his cock. As his fingers find the soft give of your cleft. As his tongue meets yours, and tastes the liquor he now only drinks in your company.

Imagines, but never pursues.

Why had he believed you wouldn’t search for the same elsewhere?

The anniversary comes up faster than Price would have liked, despite the fact that the calendar isn’t missing any days.

He goes to the cemetery alone. Bouquet of English roses clutched in the vice of one hand. It feels like a day it should be raining, but the sky betrays him, the gray covering of clouds thin enough to let the dyed sunlight through.

He buried his mother in the plot she’d bought for herself and his father, Price the elder, according to her wishes. He’d buried his father beside her against Price the younger’s own.

It had happened within a year of each other. The chemotherapy hadn’t worked, after years of fighting it, and the last months of Mrs. Price’s life happened far sooner than it was fair. She hadn’t left any regrets behind, she promised in her will, but young John Price knew it for a lie.

He remembers sitting with her in the mornings as a boy, flipping through old issues of National Geographic. His mum would ooh and aah over exotic pictures of the American west—the Russian steppe—colorful bird’s eye shots of the Taj Mahal or Burj Khalifa.

“We’re gonna go there someday,”she would enthuse, squeezing him around his toddler-belly with one arm as he perched in her lap.

Even then he’d known it was a dream, and not a goal. All he had to do was look around at the yellow tint of their kitchen with its laminate countertops, the scuffs on the corners of its scratch-and-dent fridge, the mismatch of cookware hanging on a smoke-stained wall. Peeling wallpaper they didn’t have the right to tear off, because they needed their deposit back very badly when they moved out.

His father was a tradesman—they could barely afford to visit Wales.

And his mother, at the elder Price’s insistence, did not work.

It’s in a nice place, the grave. Far back away from the entrance, where it can’t be trivialized by passing cars or dog walkers. Price can stand at the end of it and reckon with death without having to think of life going inexorably on right behind him.

Except, it’s the years to the right of the dash that he stares at, not the left. Even as a boy, he’d always noticed the disparity between his mother and father. How, before the younger even turned fourteen, grey streaked Price the elder’s temples, scars of age furrowing deep from the corners of his nostrils— while the decades his mum still had left to face radiated from her so brightly that sometimes people took her for his father’s eldest, and not the baby she bounced on her hip.

Decades she never even got to see.

Price rounds to his mother’s side and lays the bouquet beneath her epitaph—Loving Wife and Mother. He’s almost as old now as she was, in her last year, and he feels the epicenter of it sit somewhere between his heart and lungs. It burns, furious, indignant.

“Got tenured this year, Mum,” he murmurs to her. “Probably pay off the house next.”

He hears birdsong in the tree line beyond the border fence. Tries to feel her fingers running through his hair in the breeze, and fails. It’s just wind.

His father—who he sees in the mirror too often lately—he does not address.

He makes the mistake all men eventually do—

He calls his ex.

“Hallo?” Ada says, after picking up on the second ring. She’s one of the few people he knows to keep a house phone these days. She’d explained she enjoys the novelty, and the surprise on the rare occasions it actually rings.

“Hi, darlin,’” says Price.

“John, hi! How you doin’?”

“I’m alright. How’s the new place?”

He hears a shift in the background, like she’s thrown herself at a haphazard angle into a chair. She’s always been like that; she moves through any space she occupies unafraid of what she might bump into.

“Tidy!” she enthuses. “Got a view of the sea down the hill. And there’s a market on Saturdays! I got the loveliest Gruyère from one of the stalls, says he ages it himself. Can’t wait to put it in a sauce.”

“Sounds nice,” Price says, meaning it.

“Yeah, it is,” Ada replies. He pictures her twirling the cord between her fingers. “Heard about your promotion, by the way, congratulations—you earned it, John.”

“Thank you,” he says. “Have you settled in okay there? Students giving you trouble?”

“Not at all! Bit touch and go at the start of the semester, but you know me,” she laughs. “That’s how I thrive.”

“I know.”

A pause. Long enough for Price’s regret over dialing her to make itself a part of the conversation.

She sounds good. She sounds better than good—she sounds great. Happy with where she is in life, and where she’s going.

Nothing like she did when she lived with him.

“So…” Ada trails. “I know you didn’t just call to chat, John. Not that I don’t appreciate it.”

“That obvious, am I?”

He can hear the sympathetic smile in her voice when she replies, “I can look at a calendar too.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I just—just wanted to hear your voice. Hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, it’s alright,” she says. “Didn’t stop caring just because I left, you know.”

He hears the unsaid: just because you didn’t follow.

“I know,” he replies. He leaves the me neither unsaid as well. “Ada, do you—do you regret it, at all?”

“Regret…what?” The tone of her voice edges toward the defensive.

“Being with me.”

“What? John, of course not!” She laughs, tension evaporating. “We had some bad times, sure, but we had some good ones too. I’m grateful for all of them.”

“Even the bad times?” he asks, frowning.

“Yeah, John, even those. They showed me who you were. And I liked that person, a lot. If you had—”

She cuts herself off from the what if John knows had been coming. The speculation about what their relationship might have looked like, if he’d made a different decision. It would only hurt both of them more to think about it.

“If you’d been a worse man I’d have left a lot sooner,” she amends. “But like I said. No regrets. It’s over now, and I’m sad about that. But I’m glad it happened.”

Something happens behind Price’s ribs—something hard, trying to claw its way upward, that he has to draw his lips between his teeth and sniff hard to foil its escape.

“Thanks, darlin,’” he says, hearing the tremor in his own voice, and, for once, not hating himself for it with her listening. “I feel the same way too.”

He catches you with the twat in the library. It doesn’t surprise him—he hadn’t expected anything else. You hadn’t even looked at him this time as you’d pulled Will out of the lecture hall, nor had you noticed him following at a remove behind.

So when he opens the door to the sound of smacking flesh, it doesn’t shock him in the slightest.

You’re on a reading table with your skirt flipped upward, underwear dangling from one ankle as you curl your legs around the twat’s hips. The boy’s arse quivers and clenches as he jackhammers into you with neither art nor precision.

The look on your face is one of concentration. Focus. Like whatever pleasure you could derive from this is something you must actively keep hold of, otherwise you’ll lose it.

Your eyes land on him then, and for a split second—a fraction of a heartbeat—you seem relieved. Pleasure radiates from you, and you begin to roll your hips as you hold him in your gaze—and then, suddenly, horror overtakes it. Your eyes widen. You raise a hand to grab Will—

Price shakes his head.

You freeze. Your chest heaves. (The twat is oblivious.)

He stares you down. Leans against the bookshelf with his hands in his pockets, unblinking.

His.

The thing about lines is that they can be redrawn.

You run your tongue along your parted lips, hands coming up to rest on the twat’s back. Price looks down at the place Will’s body hides yours from his gaze, then back up.

He inclines his head. Go on, then.

And again, you move. Right as his command. Pull the body between your legs closer, brows creasing together, undulating into each thrust as you let Price’s eyes cage yours. You draw up higher and higher, the pitch of your breath thinning as your climax stretches taut inside you—you beg him with your eyes—

He nods.

You seize on the desk, throwing your head back, jaw dropping open. No sound escapes you—he sees the muscles in your throat work to contain it.

What will you sound like when he gets his hands on you?

By the look on the twat’s face next class, you’ve ended it. Price hardly cares. His phone is hot in his pocket, a grenade with its pin nearly out.

In case your memory fails when you find yourself thinking of me.

And, in the center of the photo, the exact thing the twat’s hips had been hiding away.

You’re there, in the front row. Every time his gaze falls on you, you shiver. The same skirt from before leaves the soft expanses of your thighs bare, for him, this time.

His. You know it now, too. It intersects the line, perfect in its perpendicularity.

You have lessons to learn. You’re already a good student; the despondent expression on Will’s face, even now, as he gazes at you like a lovelorn puppy from the back of the hall, proves it.

But you’re not there yet. You’re only just now catching up, after all. And only Price has the duty—the right—to teach you.

You’re too young for him—

Not that it matters.

a/n: If this seems disjointed or missing context, it's because a few things I reference are no longer available on the internet. Ash, I mourn daily what you have withdrawn from us.

Thank you for reading!

#john price #price x reader #price x you #captain price #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #professor price #does tagging even work anymore or are the tags all just clogged by now #mwritesprice #madi writes #that is in fact a photo of barry

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ludwig-van-gaythoven · 1 year ago

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Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 3

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

ED mentions.

Parts:

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

When you wake in the morning, Regina is already gone. She’s probably gone to meet with Karen and Gretchen for breakfast, pushing food around her plate more like. You’ve noticed some of your leftovers have gone missing, you don’t mind though. At least it means she’s eating something.

You’re not sure why she seems to relax around you enough to eat, something she can’t seem to do around her supposed best friends.

You have to remind yourself you aren’t her friend but the sketch is still neatly folded under her pillow, whatever that means.

You have a quick shower, throw on some jeans and a band tee and go to the campfire pit to hear what activity you’ll have to do today. It might mean being paired with Regina again, although she acts like a completely different person with you in public. You can see straight through her act. The more you see of her, the more you realise she’s not cruel, bitchy or formidable. She’s scared and a little insecure.

“Today half of you will be boating and half of you will be climbing! Cabins 1-6 follow me and cabins 7-12 meet your leader at the high ropes in 5 minutes!” The instructor calls.

Fuck no.

You try and sneak away slowly, if there’s one thing you’re afraid of, it’s heights. Maybe you can sneak off with the boating group, that sounds less scary, and safer.

It doesn’t work, Mrs Norbury catches you and sends you off in the direction of the high ropes. It’s not like they can force you to climb, right?

They’re laughing about something, you can’t tell what. Maybe Regina’s already making fun of you, maybe she’s gone through your bags to find anything embarrassing to tell her best friends. Maybe she’s taken a photograph of your sketch to prove you’re a loser, freak or whatever. She did similar to Janis, what’s stopping her from doing the same to you?

Maybe not.

You think you saw a glimpse of the real Regina underneath all the pink and glitter, last night.

An instructor calls out that the session is starting. For once this week you stop thinking about Regina.

You can already feel your heartbeat in your ears as you approach the climbing frame. You’re instructed on how to correctly fit your harnesses and told to line up and go over one at a time across the high ropes.

It was like an assault course in the air. First some wooden stepping stones, then walking across a tightrope with just a rope above to balance yourself, and then finally a zip line. You felt your stomach flip, there had to be a way out. You couldn’t have Regina see you having a full-blown panic attack.

Regina is just in front of you in the queue, she doesn’t turn to look at you even once. You’re slightly hurt but not surprised. It’s not like one evening of civility means she could be seen with you in public.

The plastics climb up and start to walk across. Gretchen and Karen walk in front, screaming and giggling the whole way. Regina saunters across, nothing phases her. As she climbs across the rope you can see the muscles under her pink crop top tensing, it makes you momentarily forget about what you have to do until the instructor calls out that it’s your turn next.

Okay, just breathe and whatever you do, don’t look down.

You climb up to the top platform. It’s just a walk across some stable wooden platforms. You can do this. You stare straight ahead, ignoring the thumping of your heart, your hands clammy against the ropes. As long as you don’t look down you’ll be fine.

By some miracle you make it across. The next obstacle is a walk across a tightrope. This one makes you cold sweat.

You start to shake more. Regina is already across the other side standing and waiting to go across the next obstacle. She still looks like a goddess, and you probably look like a sweaty mess. For the first time today she turns and looks at you, her expression is hard to work out, maybe pity? Probably amusement.

You put one foot tentatively on the rope and hold for dear life onto the top rope. You shuffle across in an ungraceful manner. Hopefully Regina has turned her back by now. This would definitely be blackmail material.

Every time the rope moves you feel like you’ll fall, any second you could faint, or throw up, or maybe have a heart attack.

You edge closer to the finishing platform, you can see the edge of it and make the mistake of looking down.

The ground becomes blurry and feels like it’s 3,000 feet away.

Your stomach lurches and your foot slips.

Desperation fills you and without thinking you desperately reach your hand out, hoping Regina will grab It, pull you back up and you won’t feel that dreaded falling sensation.

Instead she shoves you.

Hard.

You fall from the rope, your heart nearly stops and you can’t open your eyes. The harness catches you but you’ve swung sideways from the rope and the force of Regina’s push makes you come crashing back, your hip colliding with the wooden platform.

The pain is immediate, and searing.

An instructor lowers you down and a teacher demands that Regina comes down too to take you to first aid.

She does this begrudgingly, her little minions whining that it’s not fair that she has to pay the price when you ‘just slipped.’

You don’t look at her or speak to her on your way to first aid. With every step your hip explodes with pain. You try not to show how hard it is to walk. This wasn’t the same Regina you hung out with last night.

Never show your weakness to a predator. That was your first mistake.

“ I wouldn’t have had to do that if you didn’t try to touch me.” She spat, staring at the ground as you walked. Was she ashamed?

“Whatever Regina. I don’t care.” You sigh, wincing again as you step.

She huffs and rolls her eyes at you as you finally make it to first aid. She leaves you at the door.

The first aider confirms that she doesn’t think it’s fractured or broken. Just badly bruised. When she asks what happened you lie and say you slipped. She doesn’t buy it but she doesn’t push any further. She gives you some pain medicine and an ice pack and suggests you go and rest for a bit in your cabin.

You go back and lie in your bed on your back with the ice pack slowly melting away at your hip, making the sheets wet and cold.

Luckily Regina is out somewhere, she’s probably snuck off to one of the plastics cabins.

It’s not like you care anyway.

You decide not to get dinner today. The thought of limping all the way to the campfire sounds awful and you don’t want to give Regina the satisfaction of knowing she hurt you so you try and get some sleep.

Your phone buzzes and lights up on the nightstand. It’s Janis.

“Heeey Dude! How’s the school trip? Wait why are you in bed it’s not even late” the voice of your best friend rings out down the phone.

“Long story, I slipped climbing.” You don’t know why you lie to Janis. You don’t feel like talking about Regina.

You know that despite them being on civil terms now, Janis and Regina still held a grudge respectively. Secretly you knew Janis definitely still had a crush on her, not that she’d ever admit it. At first you didn’t understand why Janis would fall for someone so fake and shallow but now you’ve seen the other side to her. Or is it just a disguise for her to gain your trust? You trusted she’d catch you and instead she pushed you away.

“Are you even listening to me?” Janis breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Huh”

“I said, has Regina fallen in mud, or ruined her boots or had bugs in her hair yet?” You can hear the grin in her voice, and a slight hint of excitement from speaking about Regina.

“Uh, I don’t know… I haven’t really seen her.” You lie again. Why can’t you stop lying to your friend?

“Anyway Janis I have to go, I should probably go and get dinner now, the teachers will wonder where I am.” Another lie “Bye!” You add quickly and hang up.

You sigh and throw your phone back onto the nightstand. You close your eyes again and try and get some sleep.

The painkillers have kicked in and you finally drift off.

You’re in the middle of a forest in a clearing. For some reason you feel uneasy. The trees are all looming around you, as if they’re trying to warn you, leaning closer to whisper “Run” in their windy breath. From between the trees you see a bright pair of blue cat eyes. They’re fixed on you. Unblinking.

You try to get up to run but you can’t move, you’re fixed to the spot as a lion emerges from the trees, claws sharp and teeth bared just about to clamp down on your neck-

Something shakes you awake. Or rather, someone.

“Get up.” You hear Regina hiss.

“What, why?” You mumble back, rubbing your eyes. Her silhouette is blurry above you.

“Come with me.”

“Why the fuck should I.” Your response shocks both of you,she scowls and grabs your wrist to drag you up.

“Just come with me.”

“Fuck off, Regina.” You spit

She doesn’t say anything, just tightens her grip on your wrist and pulls you up.

There’s no use resisting. Stupidly you follow her. Why would you trust her after she pushed you, you’re walking yourself to your doom.

She leads you to a clearing in the trees. Just like your dream, everything in your body is telling you to run.

And then you see it.

A hot pink blanket is sprawled out on the floor and you recognise various containers of food you’d bought laid out on the blanket. There’s two fluffy white pillows either side of the blanket.

“Say something, dumbass!” She barks, she doesn’t meet your eyes and you notice a slight blush on her cheeks

“What’s happening.” You stutter. Surely not, why would Regina have gone to all this effort? Is she trying to apologise?

“I saw you weren’t at dinner and I didn’t want you to starve or something. I’m not sleeping in the same room as a corpse.” She quips, going to sit on one of the pillows. You follow and sit on the other, are you still dreaming?

You eat in silence for a while. Every now and then stealing glances at Regina. She’s actually eating some of the food, looking down at the blanket in thought. The sun is setting and the light manages to catch her in a way that makes her even more perfect. Her cheeks are slightly rosy and you notice she’s taken off most of her makeup. She looks softer, like her guard has dropped slightly.

“I’m sorry I pushed you.” She whispers and her eyes catch yours. She looks genuinely sorry.

Against better judgement you immediately forgive her. You can’t hold much resolve against her when she’s sitting at a picnic she made for you and the sun is reflecting off her skin like that.

“It’s okay, I’m fine anyway.” That’s half a lie, it still hurts quite badly. “Thanks for this. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted you to know I’m sorry, really, and…. Your food is better than the shit they serve here.” She fidgets nervously “It’s nice to eat without Gretch and Karen commenting on the fat content of it.”

That makes your stomach sink. You wonder how anyone could ever think that Regina was anything but beautiful.

“We could have dinner together tomorrow too, if you wanted” that definitely didn’t come out as confident as you wanted it to.

She doesn’t say anything but she smiles at you. Your heart skips.

After you finish eating you pack up Regina’s cute picnic and make your way back to the cabin. You resist the fleeting urge to hold her hand. You don’t want to get shoved again.

She goes to the bathroom to shower and you pull out your sketchbook. You draw the same forest clearing before, sketching in all the leaves, except this time the lion is lying on a blanket, eyes closed, peaceful.

You put the sketchbook back in your bag and get changed into pyjama shorts and a top before laying on top of the covers on the bed.

You’re drifting in and out of consciousness when Regina comes out of the bathroom, you hear her pad quietly towards your bed.

As if not to scare her off you stay perfectly still, eyes shut, and pretend to be asleep.

You feel her hand pull the leg of your shorts up at the side to reveal the darkening bruise at your hip.

Your heart nearly implodes when you feel her gentle lips press a soft kiss to your hip.

It’s over in a second, she goes back to her bed and pulls the covers over her head.

You let out a shaky breath and decided you would probably never be able to figure Regina George out, but at this current moment, you didn’t really mind.

#mean girls #wlw #mean girls 2024 #mean girls fanfic #regina george #regina george fanfic #regina george x reader #regina george x you #renee rapp #cabin fever

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distant-velleity · 4 months ago

Text

new kai oc?!??!?!

MOLI FENG (锋茉莉)

[SSR] Council Uniform

“Weapons and armor don’t make the warrior—discipline and strength do!”

The student council president of Flower Blade Academy. Stoic and disciplined with a stern resting face, she may come off as imposing. However, she aims for improvement, not impossibility, and tries to be reasonable.

she was supposed to be the main helping figure in my event, at the fan school it was hosted at, and she's ruixing's cousin lol--- idk i just think shes neat </3 if u guys want i could post more abt her and her fan school and all that

(voicelines and groovy below)

Birthday: July 7th (Cancer)

Age: 18

Height: 176 cm

Dominant hand: Ambidextrous

Homeland: City of Orchids

Grade: Junior

Club: Xiangqi Club

Best Subject: History of Magic

Hobbies: Tai chi

Pet peeves: Close-mindedness

Favorite food: Pork buns

Least favorite food: Bitter melon

Talent: Swordsmanship

Summon: Feng Moli of Flower Blade Academy. I look forward to my stay here. …Rest assured, I’ll try not to be too much of an intrusion.

Set to Home Screen: Thank you for your hospitality.

Home Transition 1: I heard that Ruixing is in Diasomnia. If the rules allow it, I’ll pay my cousin a visit and see if his dormitory lives up to its reputation.

Home Transition 2: The statues of the Great Seven line the main street, dignified and honorable… In the future, I’ll make sure to hold my head high just as they do.

Home Transition 3: Hm… This campus could use more varied physical education facilities. The mind and imagination work in tandem with the body.

Home, after login: I’m here representing Flower Blade Academy at one of the largest arcane academies. There is no room for carelessness; I must be extra conscientious.

Tap Home 1: All student council members are awarded ceremonial swords at Flower Blade Academy; unlike Night Raven College, it used to be a military institute. …Of course, my sword is the real deal.

Tap Home 2: So you have stables on your campus as well… I do recall Silver mentioning something to that effect.

Tap Home 3: I don’t agree with Coach Vargas’ methods entirely—everyone learns differently and at different paces. However, I do appreciate the kind of instructor who believes in the potential of their students.

Tap Home 4: I ran into some other students on my morning jog. I was pleasantly surprised—it seems a spirit of self-improvement exists at Night Raven College, too.

Tap Home 5: …Enough. You have my attention. How can I help you?

“I’ll never grow complacent—I swear on my honor!”

Home Transition (Groovification): Night Raven College students… are a rowdy sort, aren’t they? Aggressive, competitive, stubborn… Heh. All commendable qualities, of course.

Tap Home (Groovification): Soldiers have to be able to sleep under any conditions, though we’re no real soldiers. That is to say… The conditions in Ramshackle are rather unique.

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @scint1llat3 @nyx-of-night @nemisisnemi

@beneathsakurashade @sillyslipperybananapeel @kathxrat-01 @lumdays @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

@taruruchi @oya-oya-okay @kitwasnothere

#my art #twst oc #feng moli #headcanons #</3333 shes so handsome and for why......

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fanfictionstuff · 4 months ago

Note

Mephisto x True Cross Instructor Reader where he goes into heat while giving her a positive performance review for her work as an instructor... and then it turns into just him going feral ;o?

This has been mostly written for a while now. Sorry, I got distracted and kind of forgot to finish it. Thanks for the reminder.

Let me know what you think because I'm not as confident writing Mephisto

"Ah, you're here!" Mephisto exclaims with a cheerful tone that resonates through the spacious office. His forest-green eyes sparkle as he sifts through a multitude of papers scattered across his desk.

"I truly appreciate punctuality," he says with a grin as you step into his office. You’ve just returned to Japan, and within minutes, Mephisto has summoned you. Rising from his chair, he stands tall, commanding the room with his impressive height.

"Please, come in! Have a seat," he invited, gesturing towards the chair across from his desk.

With a wave of his hand, he motions for you to take a seat before settling into his chair with a comfortable sigh. "Now," he began, his tone shifting from its earlier lightness to something significantly more serious. "Let's get down to business, shall we?" His eyes glint as he leans forward, fingers steepled together, and a sly grin plays on his lips. “I've been keeping a close eye on your work while abroad." He gestures vaguely towards the array of notes and photographs spread across the desk.

"You've done well," he reflects enigmatically after a pause, relaxing in his chair, his green eyes shimmering with a hidden secret.

Peeking over his steepled hands, Mephisto continues, "Yet, my dear, there's always room for improvement. It's a simple truth that we are all students of life, continually growing and adapting." His voice becomes more theatrical as he gestures grandly toward the window, where the setting sun casts dramatic shadows across the room.

You sit there, pretending to be interested in what he’s saying. Performance reviews are invariably dull and repetitive. You could be at home relaxing, but instead, you must listen to Mephisto reiterate things you already know. You recognize that you did a great job, but, of course, there’s always room for improvement. After all, nobody is truly perfect.

Suddenly, Mephisto falters in his monologue. A slight furrow creases his brow, and a faint flush spreads across his cheeks as he breaks off mid-sentence.

"Is there anything else on your mind?" you ask, surprised by the abrupt shift in Mephisto's demeanor. He is typically so... steady.

"I- ahem..." he stutters for a moment, clearing his throat uncomfortably—a gesture that surprises you and evokes a hint of concern. "It seems I’m not feeling quite well,” the demon king confesses, interrupted once again by an awkward coughing fit.

"Do you need help? Should I call someone?" you asked cautiously. Mephisto paused for a moment, contemplating your words before dismissing whatever fleeting thought crossed his clever mind. "Now, now, my dear, there’s no need to worry. It seems I've just caught a fever," he said, laughing weakly. A gloved hand swiped across his forehead, coming away sweaty.

He dismisses your concern again, sliding deeper into his seat. "I appreciate your kind offer; however, there's simply nothing you can do right now... except..." His voice trails off suddenly, replaced by a vague expression that briefly reveals a glint of mischief in his eyes, as if waiting for some sort of reaction.

The sing-song lilt of his voice trailed off, and the way his emerald eyes flickered with feverish brightness and curiosity sent an unsettling prickle up your neck.

"Except what...?" you ask tentatively, pulling yourself upright from where you had slouched down in your chair across from him.

"Well," Mephisto smiles slyly. "It appears I've perhaps overestimated my own resistance."

Your eyebrows arch at this vague confession. "You see, my dear… it appears"—he pauses dramatically, creating almost unbearable tension—"I can smell… that you're ovulating."

Caught completely off guard by his proclamation, you blink at him, speechless and bewildered. “Excuse me?” The words escape your lips, your voice quivering with indignation and disbelief.

Mephisto tilts his head to the side, a peculiar gleam of delight shining in his eyes. "Oh dear," he chuckles softly, "you seem surprised. Some demons possess a heightened sense of smell," he explains, as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary. "It intensifies when we are in heat."

“Heat?”

“Mhmm.”

“So, you’re horny?”

“You’re just making me sound like a pervert now," he sighs dramatically.

“Mephisto, you are a pervert.”

Mephisto couldn't help but chuckle at your incredulous response. He tosses his head back, his refined laughter echoing throughout the vast room. "Oh, such accusations," he says, managing to speak between fits of laughter before regaining his composure. He swipes a gloved hand across his eyes and adds, "You wound me deeply."

"You’re just dodging my question," you reply, frowning as you cross your arms over your chest.

"You certainly make it sound rather crude," Mephisto responds, waving his hand dismissively. "But yes, to use your terminology, I suppose I could say I’m… 'horny.'"

His confession is greeted by a prolonged silence. You stare at him, your eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Mephisto emits an amused chuckle, a satisfied grin playing on his lips as he savors the heavy awkwardness hanging in the air.

"But in truth," he continues lightly after a moment of contemplation, reclining casually in his chair. His green eyes lock onto yours as he gestures dramatically with his gloved hand in mid-air. "What I'm experiencing is simply a natural aspect of my existence- we demons are merely... driven by our desires during such times."

Despite the initial shock of his declaration, a sudden curiosity sparked within you. You uncross your arms and lean forward on the armrests of your chair.

"And what happens during... " You hesitate over the wording before finally allowing yourself to say, "these times?"

"Ah! An excellent question!" Mephisto seems pleased by your curiosity. Leaning forward eagerly, he rests his elbows on the desk, clasping his hands together.

"In essence," he begins, pausing for a moment as he contemplates the best way to express his thoughts. "Our senses are heightened. The mundane transforms into something exquisite. Pleasures that we might typically overlook become irresistible indulgences."

His smile becomes coy as he leans back in his chair again, one gloved hand thoughtfully brushing against his hideously colorful tie.

"And perhaps most intriguingly," he continues, his forest-green eyes sparkling with a wicked gleam of amusement, "our pheromones have the ability to attract potential mates."

Your heart races at that revelation. You gaze at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape, unsure of how to process what he just suggested.

Mephisto's eyes glimmer with mischief as he observes your reaction. A sly grin stretches across his face, exposing his pointed teeth.

"Oh my, did I shock you?" he purrs, leaning forward. "I really enjoy seeing that look of surprise on your face. It's quite... enticing."

A flush creeps up your neck as his intense gaze rakes over you. The air in the office suddenly feels thick and charged.

"I... um..." you stammer, at a loss for words.

Mephisto chuckles softly, a hint of mischief in his voice. "No need to be shy, my dear. We're both adults here, aren't we? After all, it's just biology." Rising from his chair with fluid grace, he circles the desk, his presence commanding. "Though I must confess, your scent is particularly alluring today."

As he approaches, you catch a hint of his scent—spicy and intoxicating. Your head swims slightly. Is this the pheromones he mentioned?

"Perhaps we should explore this mutual attraction," Mephisto proposes, his voice low and silky. He extends a gloved hand invitingly.

You blink rapidly, striving to clear your mind. Mephisto's scent envelops you, overwhelming your senses. A part of you yearns to grasp his outstretched hand, while another instinctively warns you to be cautious.

"I... I'm not sure this is appropriate," you stammer, even as a shiver of desire betrays your body.

Mephisto's grin broadens, a predatory glimmer igniting his eyes. "Appropriate? My dear, we've moved far beyond such trivial matters." He inches closer, overshadowing you. "Can't you feel it? The electric chemistry between us?"

As if in a trance, you reach for his hand. The instant your fingers meet his gloved ones, a surge of electricity flows between you.

Mephisto effortlessly lifts you to your feet, drawing you close. You're enveloped by his intoxicating scent—spicy and sweet, reminiscent of cinnamon and cherry blossoms. It leaves you lightheaded.

"My dear," he whispers, his lips gently grazing your ear. "You can't imagine how long I've yearned for this moment."

His words send a chill racing down your spine. You glance up at him, noticing his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils.

Your heart races as Mephisto draws you closer, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist. His forest green eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of hunger and mischief.

"Are you sure this is truly what you want?" he purrs, his breath warm against your ear. "I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop once we start. Will you stay with me the entire time?” He begins to pant softly in your ear, the closeness intensifying. "In my current state of heat, I won’t have much control," he admits.

For a brief moment, you hesitate, caught in the conflict between your mind and your body's yearning. Yet, the intoxicating aroma of his pheromones envelops you, clouding your judgment. With a slight nod, you murmur, "Yes."

A wicked grin spreads across Mephisto's face. "Excellent," he murmurs.

In one fluid motion, he sweeps you off your feet and gently places you on his desk, scattering papers across the floor. His lips collide with yours in a passionate kiss, while his gloved hands explore your body. You moan softly into his mouth, your fingers intertwining in his dark purple hair.

Mephisto breaks the kiss, gently trailing his lips along your jaw. "You have no idea how long I've yearned for this," he growls. "Your scent drives me wild every time we cross paths."

His teeth graze your neck, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. You tilt your head, granting him better access as he showers attention on the sensitive skin of your throat. His fangs scrape teasingly, sending shivers coursing down your spine.

"Oh, my darling," Mephisto purrs against your skin, his voice a smooth, low rumble. "You taste even sweeter than I had ever imagined."

His gloved hands glide over your body with an intense fervor, leaving behind warm trails in their wake. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. The intoxicating scent of his pheromones surrounds you, clouding your senses and heightening every sensation.

Mephisto's lips glide down your neck, his teeth lightly grazing your collarbone. "Such exquisite sounds you make," he murmurs. "I wonder what other delightful noises I can draw from you?"

With a snap of his fingers, your clothes vanish, leaving you bare beneath him. You gasp at the sudden vulnerability, but the chill of the air is quickly replaced by the warmth of Mephisto's naked body pressing against you.

"Beautiful," he breathes, his forest-green eyes traversing your form with openly revealed desire. "A true feast for the senses."

His mouth descends upon yours once again, the kiss deep and demanding. You respond with equal fervor, your hands exploring Mephisto's lean shoulders as he kisses you intensely. His skin feels feverishly hot against your touch. Eventually, you break the kiss, gasping for air.

"Mephisto," you gasp. "Are you sure you're okay? You feel like you're on fire."

"Ah, my dear," Mephisto chuckled breathlessly, his eyes shimmering with a blend of amusement and barely contained desire. "Your concern is quite touching, but I assure you, this... heat... is entirely normal for a demon in my state."

His warm hands glide gracefully over your skin, creating intricate patterns that leave behind trails of tingling sensations. "In fact," he purrs, leaning in close to gently nip at your earlobe, "it's about to get much, much hotter."

His lips glide down your body, creating a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. You arch into his touch, completely consumed by the intensity of the moment. Mephisto's hands caress your thighs, gently coaxing them apart.

"So responsive," he purrs with appreciation. "I wonder just how sensitive you really are?"

Without warning, he dips his head between your legs. You cry out at the initial touch of his warm tongue, your fingers tangling in his dark purple hair. Mephisto hums with satisfaction, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"Exquisite," he murmurs against your heated flesh. "Your taste is divine, my dear."

Your mind goes blank as he works on you with expert precision, his sinfully long tongue entering you before moving to focus on your clit, bringing you to the edge repeatedly only to deny you release. Just when you think you can't take any more, Mephisto raises his head, his forest-green eyes gleaming.

Mephisto's eyes lock with yours, burning with primal hunger. He rises slowly, his lean body sliding against yours as he positions himself between your trembling thighs. You feel his hard length pressing insistently against you.

"Are you ready for me, my dear?" he purrs, his voice rich with desire. "I'm afraid I won't be able to hold back much longer."

You nod urgently, at a loss for words. Mephisto grins, showcasing sharp teeth. In one fluid motion, he sheaths himself deep within you. You gasp at the unexpected fullness, your body arching away from the desk.

"Oh, exquisite," Mephisto groans, his eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. "You feel even better than I imagined."

He starts to move, setting a relentless pace that leaves you gasping and gripping his shoulders. The desk creaks beneath you with every powerful thrust. Mephisto's lips meet yours again in a searing kiss that takes your breath away.

"Mine," he growls against your mouth. "You're mine now."

His words send a thrill through you. You wrap your legs around Mephisto's waist, urging him deeper. He groans in approval, his thrusts becoming more frantic. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and arousal, punctuated by the sound of skin on skin and your shared moans of pleasure.

"That's it, my dear," Mephisto pants, his voice strained with effort. "Take all of me."

You feel yourself nearing the edge, every nerve ending alive with sensation. Mephisto appears to sense your impending release and redoubles his efforts, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you.

"Come for me," he commands, his forest-green eyes piercing into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

It's overwhelming. With a cry of ecstasy, you shatter, waves of pleasure washing over you. Mephisto follows soon after, burying himself deep within you as he reaches his own release with a guttural groan.

For a moment, you both lie there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Mephisto's weight is heavy yet not unwelcome as he collapses on top of you.

As your breathing starts to slow, Mephisto lifts his head to gaze at you with half-lidded eyes, a sly grin playing on his lips. "My dear," he purrs, "I hope you don't think we're finished. The night is still young."

With a snap of his fingers, the world around you blurs and shifts. Suddenly, you find yourself lying on a plush, king-sized bed draped in a blue canopy.

Mephisto towers above you, his forest-green eyes shimmering with a barely contained hunger. "Now," he growls, "we can truly indulge ourselves."

Before you can catch your breath, he's on you again, his mouth hot and demanding against yours. His hands roam your body with renewed fervor, leaving trails of tingling sensation in their wake. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

With a growl of impatience, Mephisto flips you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and back against him.

Mephisto's warm breath brushes against your ear, heightening your anticipation as he teases his firm length at your entrance, causing you to squirm with eagerness. In a sudden, intense thrust, Mephisto drives himself into you, eliciting a cry of delight and shock as your body adjusts to his size. He is unyielding, moving with a raw intensity that fells almost instinctual. His hands hold your hips firmly, directing your motions as he establishes the rhythm.

"Yes," he groans as he moves himself inside you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of your bodies. "That's it, my dear. Take it all."

You feel yourself arching your back, pressing back against him, desperate for more of his insatiable need. Mephisto growls his approval, his grip on your hips tightening as he continues to ravage your body.

You moan as Mephisto's relentless rhythm drives you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tightly, claws digging into your flesh as he pulls you back to meet each powerful thrust. The room fills with the sounds of your shared pleasure - breathless gasps, low growls, and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin.

"So perfect," Mephisto breathes, his voice deepened by exertion. "You take me so well, my dear."

One of his hands snakes around your body, skilled fingers locating that sensitive bundle of nerves. You cry out at the heightened stimulation, your inner walls tightening around him.

"That's it," he purrs. "Let me hear you. I want to hear every delicious sound you make."

Your arms give way, and you fall onto the bed, your face buried in the silken sheets. Mephisto follows, enveloping his body around yours without slowing his relentless pace. His weight pins you down, the new angle allowing him to hit that perfect spot inside you with each thrust.

"Mephisto," you moaned, lost in the haze of pleasure that was quickly overtaking you. His name rolled off your tongue like a prayer, and he seemed to respond to the sound of his name on your lips.

"That's it," he panted, his breath hot in your ear. "Say my name again."

You oblige him, unable to form any other words as ecstasy draws nearer with each thrust of his hips. "Mephisto!" the sound echoes off the walls of the dimly lit room.

"_____," he groans, his breathing erratic now. "You feel so good, so tight." His words push you further towards the edge of sanity, your climax barreling towards you.

"I... I'm going... to..." you panted, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you as Mephisto continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

"That's it," he growled in approval, his words infused with raw hunger. "Come for me, my dear. Let go."

His words are your undoing. With a piercing cry, you shatter beneath him, waves of intense pleasure crashing over you. Your body trembles and clenches around Mephisto as your orgasm rips through you.

Mephisto growls in response, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Yes," he hisses, "that's it. Take all of me."

With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, his own release washing over him. You feel the heat of it filling you as Mephisto shudders above you, his breath coming in ragged pants.

For a long moment, neither of you move, both trembling in the aftermath of your shared pleasure. Then, slowly, Mephisto withdraws from you, eliciting a soft whimper from your oversensitive body.

He pulls you into his arms, rolling onto his side and drawing you close against his chest. His skin remains feverishly hot, but the warmth now feels comforting. You settle into his embrace, feeling completely exhausted.

Once you’ve caught your breath, your eyes widen. I can’t believe I just had sex with Mephisto. Carefully, you sit up and glance around the interesting bedroom. My clothes are in his office, what do I do?

“Going somewhere, dear?”

A wave of embarrassment slowly starts to wash over you. “…I should probably go home.”

Mephisto smirks as he pulls you closer, pressing you against him. “You agreed to stay with me during my heat,” he whispers, nipping playfully at your ear. “We’ll be here for a week, maybe two.”

#ao no exorcist #blue exorcist #mephisto phelps x reader #mephisto #mephisto x reader #blue exorcist mephisto #mephisto pheles

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howtofightwrite · 1 year ago

Note

Most traditional boxing instructors will tell you that if the opponent is taller than you, has longer arms than you, or is heavier than you, you're fucked and you need to stay extremely aware and work really hard to compensate for all the advantage he has over you.

In a recent forensic survey, it was determined that most traditional boxing instructors who get into real world altercations die when they're shot in the head.

This is the problem with a lot of these kinds of arguments. No one practices traditional boxing. At least, no one does so publicly. How do I know this? Because traditionally boxers fought in the nude. Yeah, we're not seeing that, are we? Now, maybe they meant bare knuckle boxing, but really no one does that either, these days. Boxing without safety equipment is not a particularly good idea, for fairly obvious reasons.

The only reason the word, “traditional,” is in the ask is to lend their statement unearned credibility. It's an attempt to make their statement sound more authoritative, without offering any evidence to support the statement.

Who said that?

“Traditional people did.”

Okay, but, 'traditionally,' people cleaned shit off their ass with a stick. So, maybe appealing to Hellenic sports isn't the best gauge of how a fight will play out.

Also, I know I just said it, but, who are these authoritative sports guys? Because they're not named. We're simply told, “most,” of them agree. Which starts to sound a lot like “four out of five dentists agree.” Who are these instructors? What do they teach? Why are the currently in prison for indecent exposure? And how much did you pay them to get their uninformed opinion? Salient questions which may need to be answered, if the original question wasn't invalid on its face.

Why do I say it's invalid?

Because boxing isn't fighting.

Boxing is a sport.

Boxing has rules.

Kick your opponent in the groin, or shin, and you're punished.

Step on their foot, push them, and watch them tumble to the ground before you start stomping on them, and you'll be punished.

Throwing your opponent will be punished.

And of course, as mentioned at the top, pulling out a gun and expanding your opponent's mental horizons is extremely frowned upon.

These are all things that can happen in a real fight.

These are all things that do not benefit from increased height or reach.

There is one genuinely accurate statement. In a fight, you do need to be very aware of what's going on around you. Everything else is the product of someone who's been punched in the head repeatedly until the CTEs got them thinking that boxing is analogous to a real fight in any way. (And, statistically, will probably end their career sitting in a jail cell over an aggravated assault charge, because their emotional self-control was completely destroyed by those same head injuries.)

The rules that boxers need to follow are designed to (somewhat) protect the participants. It reduces the dangers of a boxer being killed in the ring. In an observation that I would hope to be self-evident, those rules don't exist in actual combat.

It's also amusing, because the original Asker had to go so far as to single out an ill-defined, “traditional” boxing, because no other martial art they checked gave them the soundbite they wanted.

And, of course, women box. Historically, you could say, “traditionally,” there were even boxing matches between men and women. It wasn't until the 1880s that women were excluded from competitive boxing in the UK. (I'm not sure of the exact date when women were banned from boxing in the US, though that prohibition lasted for less than a century, before the modern return of women to the sport.)

So, either these “traditional instructors” don't know the history of their own sport... which doesn't sound particularly “traditional” to me, or they're full of shit.

My advice to everyone would be, maybe, don't take the advice of a sports coach about how he's secretly an absolute badass in all the delusional fantasies he's cooked up about how he'd like to inflict violence on others because they wouldn't date him.

-Starke

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#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers

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charmwasjess · 2 years ago

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The choice to make Dooku a Master of Makashi, Form II, the Contention Form, is so wonderful and I’m going to tell you why I love it.

Christopher Lee was 6’5 and huge. Adding onto that fact, we can imagine the physical reality of a person who dedicated their life to lightsaber study, who taught it as a Temple instructor for years as a full time job BEFORE blowing off to learn Sith combat arts. They could have easily made him a hulking space tank Gregor Clegane style fighter. Instead, he fights with lightsaber ballet.

Which, as anyone who has done actual ballet knows, far from being delicate, is incredibly physically intensive and grueling work.

What’s so interesting to me is that Makashi isn’t even a powerhouse form. Form II was developed before the good defense-as-offense of Soresu or the utility of Niman. It was a form designed by Jedi who were fighting against other lightsabers for the first time in the Sith Wars; it’s designed around disarming instead of killing, and lacks the big moves to fatally finish a fight. You can see a couple times (the end of the Obi-Wan and Anakin portion of his duel in AotC is a good example) where Dooku has to actually stop fighting to try to do a killing blow as opposed to seamlessly working a fatal stroke in. Even as a fully-revealed Sith at the height of his evil powers, he leaves duels, he rarely finishes them.

And yet, Dooku is tremendously successful with Makashi in the prequels and the Clone Wars series for a variety of reasons that have nothing to do with the form itself, and everything about how he uses it. One, because he has the size and physical stamina to get hammered through the form’s weaknesses and lack of defenses to stay on his feet. Asajj is a prodigy, but she gets absolutely bounced around using the exact same form with a slighter build. And his reach makes him very dangerous. Two, because of the hallmark Makashi move, Contentious Opportunity, where a Makashi practitioner basically throws the sink at you to give themselves a little breathing room to get the complicated precision of the form back up and running. Dooku throws combatants through windows. He throws architecture at them. He throws dinner tables. His favorite, of course, is throwing lightning; in so many Clone Wars duels, you can see the exact moment a fight stops being fun for Dooku or where he’s feeling cornered or vulnerable by the point where he starts BBQing everyone. Ultimately, even his downfall can go back to the form: in RotS, he gets pinned down by a more burly form (Anakin's absolutely drilling form V) in a situation where he can't manage to buy himself a beat.

I just love this fucking detail so much: the way that lightsaber forms can be completely different depending on the body and personality of the people using them.

#lightsaber nerd stuff #dooku #count dooku #makashi #lightsaber forms #the clone wars

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verrdure · 1 month ago

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still here, still making things happen — would azure isle even run without ꒰ midori d'amore ꒱ ? the ꒰ twenty-five ꒱ year old ꒰ arts & crafts instructor ꒱ has been a part of the island’s rhythm for ꒰ two years ꒱, ensuring that everything flows just as effortlessly as it appears. you’ll find them at ꒰ le petit club ꒱, where they handle every detail with the kind of precision the island’s elite have come to rely on. they’re known for being ꒰ lethargic ꒱, always having their ꒰ decorated headphones ꒱ nearby — and spending time at ꒰ yūgure ꒱ to unwind after work.

ℬasics.

full name: midori d'amore. age: 25. birthday: july 21st. gender: cis woman [she/her]. orientation: pansexual. languages: english, italian, japanese. occupation: arts & crafts instructor @ le petit club. height: 5'4". hair: dark brown, waist length, straight, bangs. tattoos: four leaf clover on the inside of her right pointer finger + star behind her right ear + goldfish on her outer right ankle + smiley face over her left knee + small heart on her left shoulder. style: breezy & comfortable. colourful tights, flowy skirts, jorts in the summer, crop tops or xl t-shirts, worn sneakers or cute flats.

ℐnterview.

❛ how did you land a position on azure isle? connections, skill, or luck? ❜

“it starts,” midori says slowly, “with a love story.” she walks two fingers across the table, meeting the two fingers of her left hand, depicting two people bumping into each other. “papà, a chef at yūgure, and kāsan, a wealthy socialite on holiday with her family. could i make it any more obvious?” her fingers intertwine. “after they eloped and my mom was basically disowned, i was born. then twenty something years later i tried and failed to make it as an artist and eventually landed my current job after my dad put in a good word for me.” she retracts her hands then, dropping her chin onto her palm. “so to answer your question, a mix of connections and luck.”

❛ they say the staff see more than anyone else. what’s the most interesting thing you’ve observed? ❜

“i probably shouldn't be telling you this, but,” midori leans in conspiratorially, “there was this one kid one summer that i couldn't help but notice didn't look at all like his dad... which could've meant nothing. but i did look up that family after they left, and i happened to see this pic of the dad and his business partner. well... i just wonder if the dad's ever noticed how his kid and his business partner have the same nose.”

❛ if you could trade places with a guest for a day, what’s the first thing you’d do? ❜

“blow all my cash at the casino.” she mimes pulling the lever at the slot machine. “just kidding. i think i'd just take the entire day to relax by the beach. no responsibilities. no kids in sight. that's the dream.”

𝒮tory.

after three years of culinary study in japan, elio returns to monaco with a position in azure secured. when natsumi arrives on the island just a scant three months later, something in his heart beats to the tune of fate.

knowing that her parents would never approve of their relationship, natsumi does the one thing all selfish rich girls know how to do, she defies all orders and expectations and runs away. natsumi and elio elope. by the time natsumi's parents find out, it's already too late. out of anger or heartache or a mixture of both, natsumi's parents tell her never to return, that they'll no longer acknowledge they ever had a daughter. natsumi doubts, for the first time since meeting elio, she regrets; but not for long, not when she discovers she's pregnant.

midori is born in the height of summer. one set of grandparents welcome her in the hospital room. the other set have no idea she even exists.

she grows up happy and carefree and with dreams of taking the world by storm one stroke of her paintbrush at a time. reality is, of course, harsh as always. midori goes to art school, gets her art degree, and thinks any day now.

at twenty three, she sits in her childhood home and confesses to her parents that her dream might only ever be that, a dream. elio looks at the defeated set of his daughter's shoulders and tells her he'll help in whatever way she needs.

a month later she's taking a shuttle across the island to teach kids how to turn colourful scraps of paper into art. a legacy hire, someone says, when midori becomes an official part of the staff. she didn't have the heart to tell them she'd rather not have inherited this particular legacy.

ℋeadcanons.

naps are her lifeblood

does not have a pet but instead a flock of pigeons she regularly feeds and communes with :3

her signature item, her headphones, are decorated with stickers that she's had kids from le petit club put on for her<3

while midori's energy might seem a bit too low for someone who regularly interacts with kids, they actually dig her chill vibe + it helps that she's careful and patient with all of them

she can get kinda spacey sometimes. it does occasionally adversely affect her relationships 'cause she might disappear for like a month or two (will just straight up forget to respond to texts n she constantly screens calls...) only to come back with a casual 'hey wanna catch a movie today :3' like nothing happened. not everyone is okay with that</3

still paints. and paints often. first thing you see when you walk into her apartment is a bunch of art supplies just scattered on every surface. she also carries a sketchbook and coloured pencils around in her tote bag so you're likely to find her sketching away during her lunch break

𝒲anted 𝒞onnections.

click here!

#azure.intro #hiii :3

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fayeandknight · 1 year ago

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I am so incredibly proud of Forte and myself.

We got our first Q in Jumpers!

We NQed our Standard run because he stepped on the broad jump and hopped off the table. But he stayed in the ring, didn't visit anyone, and didn't pee on anything. He recalled and was redirected well.

Then we promptly came outside so he could pee on something, lol.

We took a break for a course change and Forte happily rolled around the grass while I told him what a good dog he is.

I didn't run in Time to Beat so my instructor volunteered me to run the timer while she scribed. It was pretty cool to work "behind the scenes" so to speak. I also did gate calls for Open.

When it was time for Jumpers I feel like he and I were both less overwhelmed by all the activity. He did run past weaves at first but we're allowed a retry in Novice. We earned our very first Q! We also got first place in our height class

#dogblr #belgian tervuren #forte #dog agility #agility trial #so so so proud of him #we got compliments on our standard run despite the NQ #i was a little intimidated to volunteer but my instructor taught me as we went #and I'm glad i did #I'll definitely be signing up to help at trials going forward

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jackalopc · 3 months ago

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fuck it friday

definitely was not tagged last friday by @thecarrott lol nope not tagging anyone myself today, but anyone is welcome to use this as an excuse to post their own!

two lil snippets from that fishben sugar baby(ish) au i'm working on slowly but surely (and potentially background ironpope? who knows)

tossing under read more bc it's a little lengthy due to formatting!

Going to be honest, I'm mostly here out of desperation. I just want someone I can hook up with occasionally that meets the low standards of having their own place where they live alone, basic hygiene, and doesn't live in a pig pen (and of course good sex). 🫠 (also yes I really am 6’3” 🙄 I have better things to do than lie about my height 😘)

LOOKING FOR: Casual, open to relationships INTERESTED IN: All Genders SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Panromantic GENDER ORIENTATION: Cis Man AGE: 34 HEIGHT: 6'3" RELIGION: N/A OCCUPATION: Veteran, Gym Manager, Personal Trainer, Semi-Pro MMA Fighter, Annoying Little Brother

“A sugar baby website?” Will peered over his brothers shoulder skeptically. “Wow you were serious about it.” Ben laughed, snorting a little as he did. “Hell yeah. Especially after that last encounter? Yikes on bikes,” the younger Miller sighed. “I dunno, I'm definitely not the target client for this, soo honestly I doubt anything will come of this. Just everything else is like either college drop outs, retirees, or just weird unicorn hunting,” Ben complained and hit submit after he finalized a few last minute details and fixed some typos. Will hummed thoughtfully, frowning slightly. “I'm sorry, Benny… I know I don't make things easy on you,” he said softly after a moment. “Hey, Will, we talked about this,” Ben sat his laptop down and immediately pulled his brother into a sideways hug. “You've got nothing to apologize for, I don't mind, and it's the minimum I can do after you've thrown so much of your life away from me.” It's a well-worn script, and Ben wasted no time in going down the bullet points of it.

Just looking for someone to occasionally do things with, and dote on. Not really interested in any 20-somethings, or anyone just wanting to fuck and party constantly (just not my speed). Co-parenting, plus run a business, so time can be limited and awkward hours. Oh the ‘Catfish' in my username is just my pilot call sign that's it I promise! 😅 I'm really bad at these.

LOOKING FOR: Casual, potentially open to relationships INTERESTED IN: Any Genders SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic GENDER ORIENTATION: Cis Man AGE: 43 HEIGHT: 5'11" RELIGION: Catholic, but only when visiting family OCCUPATION: Veteran, Pilot, Founder/Co-Owner of a Flight School, Piloting Instructor, Father

“Really, Frankie?” His ex-wife, Lady, leaned over to overtly look at his phone screen, ever nosy. Not that he really cared, it’s not like he hid these things from her. “You know you’re to old to be a sugar baby,” she joked and nudged him; earning a dramatic sigh from the man. “Not signing up for that end of it and you know it,” he chided playfully. “Ms. Three-Years-Older-Than-Me,” She gasped and took the tea towel off her shoulder, lightly smacking him with it; earning a laugh from him. He soon leaned back into the tall chair that sat at his exes kitchen island. “I dunno, just everything else is a bunch of college kids, or folks actively trying to find someone to marry. And at least around here,” Frankie shrugged. “Not exactly a lot of exciting places catered to forty-somethings,” he said with a little snorted. “Tell me about it, Rosa keeps trying to get me to go to the club with her. Like she's not five years younger than me and has no kids,” Lady laughs. “It’s like I’d love to but honey my bed time is nine just like, Estellas!” “Right? Geeze, I can’t even imagine anymore. Like what the hell would I do there? Be cranky at how loud it is?” “We really did turn into our parents didn’t we?” She sighed wearily, spooning the last of their dinner leftovers into a container for her ex to take home with him. “Now why did you have to go and say that!?” Frankie groaned in Spanish scrubbing his face. “God you’re right, I’m just my mom now.”

#triple frontier #fishben #ben miller #benny miller #frankie catfish morales x ben miller #ben miller x frankie catfish morales #; my writing #; my fanfic #; fic: fishben sugar baby au #; my wips #; fuck it friday #francisco catfish morales

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driftrz · 5 months ago

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「 ₊ ☆ ﾟ ning yizhuo, she / her, cis woman 」 INCOMING TEXT: omg hv u met TEMPERANCE ' TEM ' KUANG of the RODANI PROWLERS yet ? they’re one of the crew’s street racer n actually go by COLA. the twenty three y/o is typically seen hanging arnd vogue videos. allegedly they’re frm queens, nyc n hv been w/ the crew for THREE YEARS. wtvr. just watch out for them, k ? ttyl !

name : temperance kuang. no middle name. nickname (s) : tem alias : cola age : twenty3 birthday : january 1st zodiac : capricorn #signofevil gender & prns : cis woman & she / her orientation : bisexual hometown : technically born in the otherworldly hellscape tht is buffalo ny, but lived in queens nyc for most of her life height : 5'2 LMFAOOO hair color : currently dyed a verrry dark purple. eye color : dark brown. markings / scars : lil birthmark shaped like a crescent roll on her right shoulder. body mods : ears pierced but that's it because she's scared of needles occupation : employee at vogue videos ( ask her abt kill bill ! ) crew : rodani prowlers education : high school diploma, current uni of miami student ( aerospace engineering )

tw : parental death.

tem is quite sure that she had a mother, once, if only because two people are needed to make a baby. she's never met her mom, though : for her entire life, it's been just her & her dad. because of this, he had a penchant for teaching her independence in his own way. maybe neither of them could cook, but at least they both knew how to fix a leak.

it was tem's father that made her realize her love for cars. he was a mechanic who insisted she start learning to drive with him at 10. he'd teach her the inner workings of the car & the basics that everyone knew, too. would point out cars he liked on the road. & tem, impressionable & adoring her father, would listen. she was the first of her friends to get her license because of him, and he gifted her the first ever car she got.

a few weeks after her 18th birthday, her father died. the last lesson he'd ever teach tem was loneliness. for a year, she worked as hard as she could to save up as much as she could, working on college applications in the meantime. now that her dad was gone, she wanted to leave new york city. she wanted to go somewhere far from all the memories of him. & she wanted somewhere she could drive fast.

loving a challenge & the rush of doing things on a whim, tem moved to miami.

INTERVIEW :

when did your first realize you had a passion for cars / racing?

“ when i turned ten, my dad put me behind the wheel. i know, i know, but relax ! he just wanted to teach me to drive. something about not wanting to pay for a driving instructor. but it was super dangerous, of course. i could barely reach the brakes and he was a little impatient. we'd go out every weekend and he'd tell me everything about the car. he made it sound so fascinating, even the little simple things. ” she laughs. there’s a lightness in the air, in her eyes : love for her father blooms clear on her face. “ he was right, in the end. i didn’t need an instructor, and i was the first of my friends to get my license. my dad hated when i would go fast, though. still, if it wasn’t for him, i wouldn’t have ever realized how much i liked being in a car, the independence it gave me. racing just came from that naturally. i hated new york traffic because it was constant. the city's more for walking than driving, so i knew when i was looking at colleges that i wanted somewhere i could go fast. ”

how do you feel about the establishment of the nariza bois, particularly in relation to their split from the rodani prowlers?

she glances around like someone might be listening in. “ ‘kay, so, listen, all of that happened before i even came on the scene, you know ? i got here in august, the mess happened in march, that sort of thing. so it’s really none of my business. i just like to go so fast enough i make someone else nauseous and i like to win. to be honest — ” she shares a secret smile & a wink with the interviewer— “ to be honest, i don’t really care about the rivalry. but it’s fun to pretend, huh ? and call people names ? plus, the history between the prowlers and the bois makes races extra fun. they take it so seriously ! ” she makes a sweet exterior, but there’s scars on her knuckles from the first time she knocked out a rival racer. the beef she inherited is more serious to her than she'd like to admit.

you're often seen around vogue videos– what does a typical visit look like for you?

cheeks dot with red ; she’s unusually embarrassed to answer the question. “ i work there part time to help pay for school. apparently i talk too much about kill bill ? but listen, it’s a masterpiece ! okay, yes, tarantino is a loser— i mean, have you seen him try to act in from dusk til dawn ? it’s a disgrace— but you have to look beyond the director when it comes to movies. they're group projects. i think that's why directors are all a little shady. 'cause they know it's not solely their project, and the movie will live on apart from them. and i think it’s a great film. what’s so wrong about recommending it ? it's definitely a top ten for me, and when i say kill bill, of course i mean volume one & two together. separating them instead of seeing the vision of it being one giant movie that you need to watch intentionally is wild ! so, anyway, my personal favorite scene is when— ”

do you ever have the urge to swap positions?

“absolutely not. doesn’t everyone wanna be a racer in their hearts ? behind the wheel feels like home. behind the wheel is everything. i guess being a mechanic wouldn’t be that bad. knowing a car you worked on won is an accomplishment. and i'm studying engineering, so it's not like i'd be miserable. but driving the winning car ? that’s striking gold. anyone who says otherwise is either lying or they can’t drive, and if you can’t drive, you shouldn’t even be here. ” the words come out in a jumbled rush & take a moment to register. she's spoken without thinking ! quickly, she flusters. “ well, except for the import models, i guess. ”

HCS :

tem's car is her baby. she races to honor her father, so it feels like her car is an extension of her and any insult against her car is an insult towards her. it's pink & garish & instantly recognizable as hers, & she absolutely loves it. she's modded it heavily & is extremely picky about which mechanics are allowed to touch her car. tem is notoriously bad at taking care of herself, but when it comes to her car, it's always spotless & without a scratch.

her alias is cola bc she loves cherry coke & has one before every race. if she doesn't, she swears she will lose.

overly knowledgeable about three things : movies ( the bloodier the better ), mass market paperback romance novels with shirtless men painted on the covers, and petty crime. if you need something shoplifted, she's your girl.

is a polyglot ! tem is fluent in english, mandarin, cantonese, & spanish. she also knows a few curse words in italian. she loves linguistics ( have i mentioned she's a little smartass ) & the process of learning about languages and learning the languages themselves.

WCS :

crushes of the week : tem loves hard & falls out of love just as quickly. she has a new crush every week & every week she's convinced this person is the one. bonus points if u take up whoever she wrote this love letter to.

mentor : someone from the rodani prowlers who took tem in while she was puppy dog-eyeing her way thru the scene. doesn't have to be a racer : just someone who helped her get on her feet & who she still comes to for basic life problems.

mortal enemy : in the same way she loves hard, she hates like nothing else. this person managed to annoy her so much that they've been declared her worst enemy. cld be anything from a rival racer to someone to just likes bothering her at work.

roommate (s) : self explanatory ! the person / ppl tem is living with rn. how they feel about her is up in the air, but in her eyes this is her bestie (s)

#fast.intro #h-heeyyyyyy :3

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skele-bunny · 10 months ago

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anything aurora and rain

*disappears*

Rubs my hands together like a fly (but evily)

The listener and the yapper to the CORE. Rain continuing whatever he's doing while Rory makes a whole three hour conversation, always getting smiles or little inputs from Rain. He loooves listening to her. Of course, Rory knows only the best gossip in the entire abbey or secrets of the others.

"Did you know a few of the choir sisters got detention for having sex in the choir loft? YEAH! And get this... With the INSTRUCTOR!" // "Guess who's jealous of Adele... BEYONCE!" Typa shit

Rory has picked up crocheting, and one of her forms of affection is gift giving! Rain has a bunch of tiny stuffed animals ranging from a shark to a bumblebee, one time she made him a giant jellyfish he happily sleeps with.

Rain has decorated her entire shelves with sea glass, seaweed, smoothed stones, pearls, and shells. His current project is making a fish scale reflector. He's doing it in rainbow order and only needs white scales to complete! Some of his own scales are in it, too. It's one of the highest forms of love.

These two are RIDICULOUS and will gladly judge you from afar. They love people watching and making their own conversations of what people are saying. They're like the aunties of a family reunion constantly giggling to each other and quickly turning their heads when you look at them.

One time they did a small date to the schoolhouse's playground, and Rain ended up with a sprained wrist after Aurora spun him really fast on the carousel to the point he flew out. They still laugh about it to this day!

Big on kisses! Rain has a process. Her forehead, her nose, both cheeks, both ears, her horns, knuckles on both hand then the palms, then her lips. Rory will take any kisses she can snag, even if it's kissing Rain's ass in the literal sense!

They are literally the purple/blue couple :((( 🩷 sun/moon if you will. But fuck they work perfectly together. He loves giving Rory flowers, she loves giving Rain physical touch. GAH THEYRE IN LOVE

Spicy wise? Amen.

CW - OBJECT INSERTION, MOMMY KINK

Rain is a dominatrix, adores topping and domming Rory. She's always so eager to please and make him happy, and of course gets the best rewards for her outstanding behavior.

Sometimes Rain will tie her up to where her wrists and ankles are connected, pussy on full display. He'll place guitar picks right on the edge of her hole, fingering her carefully to scrape one out. She's had pens, a hairbrush, miscellaneous makeup brushes, and even a few grapes shoved in her. Always such an amazing holder for Rain, has even cum a few times from just the insertion.

Aurora always knows to say "Thank you, Mommy." After each session, getting her chin scratched under and adorned in kisses. If she's lucky, she'll get another orgasm out before actually ending.

There's been a few times she's been allowed to top Rain, settling her strap so comfortably between his cunt and just babbling how beautiful he is to take her cock. Her hands just squeezing his hips and dragging him down, or just completely pinning him down and watching his face scrunch in pleasure.

One of their favorite positions is a 69. Rain prefers being on the bottom, just relaxed as can be as he eats Aurora out, blowing against her clit and watching it twitch. Loves how her tits are pressed against his stomach as she has to crane herself down to eat his pussy in return.

Have you seen that picture of Rory and Rain's height difference? Yeah. Yeeaahh. Loves towering over her and pressing his chest against her mouth. How she doesn't even have to bend and can just latch immediately while her hand goes between his folds. 💪💪

#the band ghost #ghost band #rabrev writing #nsfwriting rambles #rain ghoul #aurora ghoulette #cw object insertion #cw mommy kink

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maviscat123 · 1 year ago

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Riley Crenshaw woke up and rolled over in bed. And when Riley Crenshaw rolled over in bed, it seemed as if the entire world shook. The gray-skinned rhino with the single horn adorning his snout, fairly typical for his species, was massive both in height and weight. As he sat up and yawned, he stretched, popping his back pleasantly. He glanced over at the empty side of the bed his ex-wife used to sleep on and frowned a little. He was amazed Marie could stand his bigness, in more ways than one. In all the years they'd been married prior to the divorce, he'd heard nary a peep from her about how much the bed shook whenever he so much as slightly readjusted his position. He told himself it was just because he had been a good man but in reality he knew it was just because of another part of him besides his belly that was big. A good man he was not, in the end, considering her reasons for divorcing him. Good men didn't cheat in their wives with other men, or live in a false marriage wherein they pretended to be straight.

But that was over and done with. Besides, although the divorce itself had been bitter, Marie had since forgiven him, and he also had custody of their children. Well, the ones not already grown up and out on their own. He stretched again and got out of bed, wandering into the large bathroom where he flipped on the light. He took a shower, dried himself, and then exited, and admired himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. His body build at first appeared fat but, while there was some of it, mostly concentrated in his middle, a great deal of the rhino's girth was in fact muscle. He just looked flabby because he was lazy and didn't work out very much. His tendency to break gym equipment meant that meeting the demands of his weekly exercise regimen was next to impssible. Fortunately, the boys down at the Monochrome, his current gym, were understanding of his careless strength, Chad the wolf and Trent the stag in particular. His thoughts turned to Chad. At this, the towel wrapped around his waist began to rise a bit. Now that he was single again, Riley was free to date, and one of these days he needed to hit up that buff wolf instructor for a night out and perhaps a bit more.

His stomach grumbled. Finishing up in the bathroom, he went and dressed. He could hear Clarissa, their maid, waking Timothy and Ashton a few rooms over. They were twelve and fourteen respectively, and soon like their brothers and sisters would be off to high school and eventually college. Riley found himself wondering how in the world he and Marie had had so many children as he finished putting on his business suit and adjusted the bowtie which sat daintily at his neck. Adjusting it gently with a thick finger, he then left and went downstairs to find both boys scarfing down cereal at the breakfast table.

"What have I told you two about eating too fast?" he said sternly but softly.

"Sorry, Dad," said Timothy Crenshaw sheepishly. He ate a little slower.

Ashton Crenshaw by contrast just shrugged and kept right on eating at his usual pace. Timothy was the typical "good boy," and if Marie were still around he would've been a momma's boy for sure. Not that Riley minded. Ashton, though, was going through a rebellious face his father didn't understand. Did he blame Riley for the divorce? Or was he just being a spoiled little punk, as Riley himself had been at his age? Well, except for the spoiled part. Riley didn't know and didn't really care, as he had to get to work. He kissed each son goodbye in turn. Timothy giggled and kissed back on the cheek, whereas Ashton, of course, jerked away and made a show of gagging. Giving his eldest remaining son a gentle bop upside the head with a small smile, Riley put on his topcoat and left. Clarissa would ensure the boys got properly dressed and sent off to school. In the meantime, he went to work.

God, he wished it was the weekend already, and it was only Friday! It wasn't the stuffy suits he had to wear, but rather the boring office environment, legions of yes-men, and long, unproductive staff meetings. Not much ever seemed to get done at Crenshaw Shoes, Inc. lately. And that Friday was no different. More useless meetings and more boneheaded suggestions about how up improve their products to keep up with the competition. Riley had started the company with endorsement money from his time as a wrestler, when one of his major sponsors had been a big shoe company. His employees were well meaning but so incompetent that he really wished he'd been able to nab those two identical twin squirrels who interviwed for joint personal assistant jobs a few years ago. And not just because of their worth ethic. Sadly, that arrogant prick lion Stapleton had managed to get them. Riley just knew Stapleton was having three-ways with the Durants all the damn time.

But no matter. He had his own squirrel. His other favorite person down at the Monochrome. And that was another reason he wanted to get out of work more eagerly today. Because today was Friday which meant his Friday massage from Edwin down at the gym. Followed thereafter, most likely, by a snack of wiggly squirrel.

Eventually, work ended in the early evening. Leaving things to his assistant Cantlemere - Riley noticed with some sadness he tended to delegate important duties now more than he did them himself - Riley left the building. It was already dusk, the sky a soft orange color. He drove to the gym in his luxury Hummer, the only vehicle on the market capable of containing and carrying him. He drove himself, have never needed nor wanted a chauffeur. He took a parking space in a lot down the street from the Monochrome Gym, and then exited the vehicle, casually strolling down the sidewalk until he reached the gym's entrance, and went inside. Due to the lateness of the day, the afternoon crowd was already leaving but the evening crowd, people like himself who got off of work around this time, would be coming in soon, and Riley prided himself on beating most of them here to have first dibs at his favorite masseur.

"Hi, Edwin," he said as he entered the massage parlor room at the back of the gym. He'd already changed out of his business suit and into a tight purple speedo which barely fit him and left nothing to the imagination as far as his male attributes were concerned.

Edwin Grimaldi was waiting for him as usual. The black-haired, reddish-furred squirrel teen grinned happily as his favorite customer entered. He was very lean-bodied, almost stick thin, but was damn cute and looked adorable in his own little speedo. He had been Riley's favorite masseur ever since the rhino's first day at the gym. He gave fucking great massages, one of his many rather interesting talents.

"Hi, Mr. Crenshaw, er, uh, I mean Riley," Edwin said a trifle submissively. The teenager was still having difficulty figuring out whether to be formal or informal, and it didn't help that the huge rhino honestly didn't care what the squirrel called him. "Hop up on the table and we'll begin."

Riley didn't exactly "hop up" - he'd break the table if he did that! - but did his best, and soon lay stretched out for Edwin's ease of access. He sighed and relaxed. Even before the massage had started he was feeling better after his hectic day at the company. He watched as Edwin went about setting up his usual array of oils and lotions and finally pulled the little wheeled cart containing all of them over. He grabbed two bottles at random, one in each hand.

"Scented or unscented?" he asked.

"Unscented," said Riley. "I don't wanna go home smelling like strawberries and cucumbers."

Nodding, Edwin set the scented bottle down and upended the unscented one, splurting a thick glob of white skin cream into his palm which reminded Riley of cum. The sort he might splurt if he got lucky with the masseur tonight. And he usually did. He smiled as Edwin nimbly climbed onto his back and slapped his hands together, rubbing the slick, oily cream between them, before planting his hands onto the rhino's shoulderblades with a wet, stick "plap" and setting to work. Riley murred and shifted beneath the young rodent as the cream was rubbed and smeared all over his bare back, Edwin not missing a single inch. Then the kneading and rubbing began, and Riley's relaxtion was complete. He groaned with delight and sprouted thick wood in his speedo, pressing against the cushioned table, as the squirrel dutifully worked out all of the kinks and knots in his customer's muscles.

"Wow, you sure have a lot of knots back here," Edwin observed conversationally, a tone of concern in his voice. "Rough day at the office?"

"No more than usual," said Riley. "More like just a long, dull, stressful week in general. It's really only when I come here and see you guys that I can really and truly cut loose and relax and, well, be myself." He chuckled. "Not only do these massages of yours relax me... rrrff... damn, Edwin, but you are better at this than you look... but also this place helps bring out my, well, let's say, inner predator."

Edwin chuckled. "Inner predator, huh?" he said as he worked around the nape of Riley's neck, using his thumbs. "I'd say so. Considering how many times you've eaten me over the past few months." After a pause, he hastily added, "Uh, not that I mind, of course."

The rhino chuckled, himself. He knew the squirrel loved getting eaten by him, ever since that first time. And indeed Riley had made sure to shove Edwin into every single one of his orifices at least twice since then. He'd eaten other patrons and customers at the gym, too, but those muscular guys, while fun and filling, tended to be a bit of a chore for him to get down. He much preferred guys like Edwin, thin and lanky. They were just an all around easier meal.

"Hey," said Edwin, "you know, now that you mention it, if bringin' out your inner predator is what you're after, maybe the gym isn't the place to do it if you're really looking to, uh, y'know, really cut loose?"

"What do you mean?" asked Riley, curious.

He knew of no other place in town that catered to voraphiles. Maybe one or two clubs, but those tended to get raided by the police due to the amount of digestion without reformation that went on there. With a few exceptions, Edwin's former friends included, the Monochrome Gym had an excellent track record of repeat business because they reformed their eaten customers and employees, and were certainly the only business in the city that was actually certified to perform vore. Said certificate, with an "A" rating, was even displayed near the front for everyone to see now that vore was becoming mainstream and the gym didn't need to be so discrete about the type of perks it offered besides exercise.

"Hold on," Edwin said, halting the massage. He slid off of Riley and hopped down to the floor.

Riley was annoyed but sat up, watching as Edwin went to where his clothes were hung up, and he took an envelope out of the pocket of his shorts. It looked quite fancy, with am embroidered logo on the front that read "Wildfire Labs." From within the envelope, Edwin removed a letter typed on an excellent piece of expensive stationary, and handed it to the rhino, who took it and skimmed over it. It read, "Dear potential customer. We here at Wildfire Labs are at the forefront of science and technology, and in particular vore research. It is our founders' strident goal to study the act of consuming another living creature, in an environment which is safe for both predator and prey. This weekend, the 18th and 19th respectively, Wildfire Labs will be performing an experiment to determine the effects of competitive group vore. We are searching for volunteers. If you read this invitation and are interested, please contact Wildfire Labs by phone or E-mail or better yet come down to our facility personally. If you sign up, more details will be given the day of the experiment. Hope to see you there. Sincerely, Fernald Grimaldi, PhD."

The name was handwritten in clumsy but workable cursive, and, reading the last name, Riley looked up at Edwin questioningly.

"My dad gave me those," the squirrel said. "Wildfire is doing this in cooperation with the gym and so Chad has me handing them out to customers. I wasn't supposed to read it, but since it was my dad who delivered them, I got a little curious..." He grinned shyly. Of his father, he quickly added, proudly, "He's a really smart scientist!"

"I bet he is," said Riley with a smile. He slid the letter back inside the envelope and then put it aside onto the cart for later. Then with a grin he grabbed Edwin and pulled him over and dragged the squirrel into his lap and kissed him softly on the lips. "And that smartness really rubbed off on his boy, too."

At this, Edwin blushed and snuggled close to Riley, and then gave a little cry as suddenly the rhino reversed their usual position, and pushed Edwin facedown onto the table and got on top of him. The squirrel groaned at Riley's weight pressing down onto him. Riley pulled Edwin's speedo down and off, tossing it aside, and gave the squirrel's ass a nice little slap before grabbing the bottle of unscented massage lotion, squirting some of the cream into his hand before turning and giving the bottle a hard squeeze and causing the entire rest of the white goop to "splut" against Edwin's bare back.

"Hey, what are you doing?" asked Edwin with a giggle.

"Just thought I'd return the favor for a change is all," Riley replied.

"Besides," he added softly, "got to lube you up!"

"What for?"

"You know what for," Riley said with a wink.

"Aw, Riley, again? You're insatiable!" giggled Edwin.

Riley began to smear and slather the cream all over Edwin's back and down over his ass, giving his shoulders, lower back and especially his butt a good workover with his strong hands, causing the thin rodent to shudder with delight at being on the receiving end of a massage.

"So, uh," moaned Edwin, "are you gonna go...?"

"I haven't decided yet," Riley admitted. "I'll have to think about it."

When there proved too much cream for one side, he turned Edwin over and did his chest and belly as well, and was pleased to find that the teenager's cock was hard. This too was smeared with the cream. He gasped and moaned as Riley's fingers encircled his lotion-slicked cock and began to slowly masturbate him. His narrow hips bucked as the strong hand gripped his young manhood until finally he gave a squeal and added his own cream to the lotion smeared over his belly. Riley leaned down and kissed him on the lips, and then Edwin used his feet to rub over the bulge of rhino cock in Riley's speedo, making him moan. Grinning, Edwin worked his toes into the waistband and started working the swimsuit off of his lover. With a chuckle, Riley assisted him, and used one of his free hands to pull off the speedo, tossing it to the floor. As he did so his huge cock flipped out and slapped against Edwin's smaller one, the head drooling thick gobs of pre.

Gripping the edges of the table to brace himself, Riley maneuvered his hips until his cockhead found Edwin's tailhole, and then with a grunt, the big rhino shoved it inside. Edwin threw back his head and cried out as he was penetrated by that massive member. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last, but it always hurt a little going in at first. Riley cooed softly into his ear to sooth him, and then started to move his hips back and forth, working his cock in and out of Edwin's rear, going deeper and deeper each time as the squirrel's anus clenched tightly around it. The massage table creaked and rocked back and forth. It would've collapsed under the force of Riley's exertions, but fortunately, it had been specially reinforced for big guys like him. Beneath him, the squirrel gasped and writhed, holding onto his big lover's muscular arms for support as he had his brains fucked out.

It didn't take long. Soon Riley gritted his teeth and growled as the force of his climax ripped through him and into Edwin, his thick rhino-cock pumping jet after jet of hot thick seed into the used ass of the massage boy. Edwin moaned in delight, and was rewarded with a sloppy, affectionate French kiss from the big rhino as Riley extracted himself delicately, his cock leaving the squirrel's ass with a "pop," creamy cum dribbling from that well-fucked orifice.

Now came the best part. As their lips left each other, Riley licked his as he eyed Edwin's lotion-drenched form. Nothing needed to be said between them. The squirrel grinned and nodded. With a grunt, Riley got down off the table, but left his throbbing cock lying along the top, between Edwin's slightly spread legs. Edwin erfed and looked down, watching as the urethra yawned open, dribbling cum. Dutifully and eagerly the squirrel lifted his legs, knees to his chest, and brought his feet to Riley's cockhead and slid his toes inside. This had the effect of making the rhino growl in satisfaction and then suddenly the cumslit slammed down on those toes and with a sucking motion Edwin's feet were pulled in to the ankles. He gasped and giggled, his young squirrel-cock already hard again. He liked it when Riley consumed him this way.

The cock pulsed, making ravenous slurping motions which pulled Edwin in to his knees, and then his thighs. Riley grasped him by his lotion-slicked sides and pulled him, and his cock, up off the table. Making hem both go vertical, he had but to release his hold on Edwin - no difficult task; holding on to him with all that cream was hard enough! - and the squirrel's slippery form combined with the inward sucking motions of the cock made the massage boy seem to simply slide down right out of sight almost. One second he was there, in up to his waist almost, and then suddenly he slid down in to his armpits with a loud "schlurk," fluffy tail forced up against his back. At this, Riley cried out and came again, his cum bibbling up around Edwin and lubing him further. Deep inside of that hungry shaft, Edwin's own cock shuddered and he added his second batch of seed to the mixture, wiggling in delight as the pulsating cock held him.

Eager to get his cock's meal over with now that he'd cum twice, Riley reached down, grabbed the top of Edwin's head, and shoved him the rest of the way inside, forcing his arms to stick up and point out of the drooling cumslir, visible only from the elbows up. They wiggled. Riley grunted and flexed his cock, which drew the twitching arms in with only two bucks of his hips, and then Edwin was gone and the greedy cock "burped" out some globs of cum mixed with massage lotion. As his balls filled out with the squirrel's trapped and wiggling form, Riley let out a deep sigh of satisfaction.

"Ah, you always know how to fill my balls out, Edwin," he said, giving the swollen sac a loving grope as the trapped rodent began gurgling away already.

That made him remember the letter, and after he had sufficiently recovered, and his balls hung fat and heavy with a new load of fresh rhino cum, Riley stepped over to the cart and picked up the envelope. He examined it, particular the Wildfire Labs logo, and thought about their offer.

"Hmm," he thought aloud. "Could be fun. I think I will go after all."

~*~

Riley was unable to make it the following day. First thing he did Saturday was to take care of the very severe morning wood he'd woken up with. He'd jacked off in the shower for what felt like a eternity before painting the walls with what had been Edwin only the previous evening. It all washed down the drain. Then he'd needed to fulfill some fatherly obligations to Ashton and Timothy, in particular taking Timothy to a water park he'd been excitedly wanting to go to for several weeks, and while the Wildfire experiment sounded like something Riley couldn't resist, who was he to deny his youngest son? And as for Ashton, well, he'd wanted a trip to the mall after the water park, and again Riley couldn't say no despite how insolently his older son had requested it.

However Saturday evening he did call Wildfire. To his annoyance, no phone number was provided on the card Edwin had given him, however it was easy enough to find them in the phonebook. After dialing, he sat there on his bed as the phone rang. Finally someone picked up and he heard a male voice say, "Hello, Wildfire Labs."

"Yes, I was wondering if I could speak to someone regarding your competitive group vore experiment?"

There was a pause. For a second Riley wondered if he'd said the wrong thing, been too forward or even called the wrong Wildfire Labs. But then the voice said, "One moment," and his call was transferred.

A second male voice picked up. "Zeryx speaking."

Riley made a face and wondered what kind of name 'Zeryx' was, but didn't say anything. The guy's name was what it was. "Hello," he said pleasantly, "I'm Riley Crenshaw and I'm interested in your, uh, experiment. Particularly in learning any more details about exactly what you meant by competitive vore."

"Who referred you?" Zeryx asked.

"Edwin Grimaldi," Riley replied.

"Ah, Fernald's son," the voice said with a chuckle. "Good kid. Anyway, Mr. Crenshaw, I'm afraid I can't give too many details out over the phone. All I can tell you now is that it's something of a contest consisting of eight people. However, if you sign up and come down to the labs tomorrow, everything will be explained in detail before the contest begins."

"And what if I don't like what I hear?" Riley asked, who was curious if he'd be able to back out past a certain point or not. Not that he wanted to, or was afraid, but the businessman in him preferred having escape clauses and failsafes. He did not want to be trapped in something he couldn't escape from.

"Unfortunately once you commit to the experiment and arrive you won't be permitted to leave until it's over," said Zeryx. "However, you'll be well compensated for your time, whether you win or not."

"I don't need money."

"That isn't what I meant Mr. Crenshaw," Zeryx said, a hint of playful mischief in his voice. Riley wondered what he meant, but then remembered it was a vore study, and grinned a little. "And also, you have our guarantee that the vore itself will be of the non-fatal variety. So what do you say, Mr. Crenshaw? Are you interested?"

Riley considered it. He disliked not being able to back out once he was involved, until it had been seen through. When he wrestled, at least they let you call time out. And besides, the entire thing was quite vague and mysterious and that tended to spell trouble if the wrong people were involved. However Edwin had been the one to turn him on to this thing, and he knew Edwin would never trick or mislead him. But what if the Wildfire people had lied to Edwin? Then again, the squirrel's father worked there, didn't he? If Edwin's father were anything like his gentle and honest son, then Wildfire and this Zeryx person were most likely completely on the level.

Becoming politely impatient, Zeryx added, "I should mention there are only eight potential constestant slots, and five have been filled already."

Riley grumbled, disliking this extra pressure. Apparently Wildfire was hard up for participants. Finally he made up his mind. "Fine," he said. "Sign me up."

"Excellent," said Zeryx, and somehow Riley could almost feel the guy's grin.

They then exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Sleep came quickly that night. A long and hard day of dealing with his kids tended to wear him out the more and more he got into middle age. As he drifted off into dreamland, the rhino's thoughts again turned to the possibility he was somehow being tricked. He hadn't become such a successful businessman by being a sap, after all. Although he basically believed in the overall good nature of people, it was still always wise to at least entertain the notion that something was afoot, and be ready for any tricks. And ultimately Riley decided he would be. If these Wildfire people were on the level, fine. If not? Well, he'd have a few surprises for them. Soon he was sleeping soundly.

~*~

Sunday, Riley's Hummer pulled into the parking lot at Wildfire Labs. It was a two-story brick building whose only outward unusual feature was the modern triangular glassed-in front lobby which projected outwards. Well that and the signs. One was at the front when you pulled into the parking lot. The second, larger one was on the side of the building itself. Both said "Wildfire Labs" and had a stylized flame symbol.

Riley found a parking space and got out, observing that except for the vehicles in the parking spaces reserved for employees, there were only seven other cars in the parking lot: a station wagon, a Mercury, a Ford pickup, a Volvo, a van, a Volkswagen and an old International pickup that had seen better days. He observed each one had some kind of sign hanging from the rearview mirror, of the type used by handicapped drivers. However instead of the unviersal symbol for the handicapped, these signs had the Wildfire logo on them. Overnight parking, he concluded.

Pocketing his keys and going inside, he found the brightly-lit, all-glass lobby empty. Where were the seven others? Even the front desk was devoid of anything. But then a door opened in the back and a tall, good-looking ram in a white lab coat emerged. He was well muscled, handsome and had dark gray fur. Underneath the lab coat he was wearing jeans and a muscle shirt. Riley guessed he was one of the scientists.

"Riley Crenshaw?" the ram asked. Riley instantly recognized him as Zeryx. The ram extended a hand and Riley gripped and shook it, making him wince a little. "Damn strong handshake you have there, Crenshaw. Or can I call you Riley?"

"Whichever you prefer," Riley said, releasing his hand.

"Riley it is, then," said Zeryx. He gave his now freed hand a shake and another mild wince before continuing. "We try not to be too formal here at Wildfire. Now then, first thing's first." From the pocket of his lab coat, he produced one of the signs with the Widlfire logo on it, and held it out to Riley. "We'd like you to stick this on the rearview mirror of your car, which I assume is that great big beast of a Hummvee out there."

"That's the one," Riley said, and took the sign. "Be right back."

He left, put the sign on his Hummer's rearview mirror, and then returned. Zeryx was still waiting for him. Riley stood before him expectantly, arms behind his back. To his amusement, he absolutely towered over the ram, very nearly dwarfing him in height and sheer girth. However, unlike some others, it didn't seem as though Zeryx were the least bit uneasy about the huge rhino. Riley guessed this was because creatures larger than even himself had been to this facility before.

Riley went with Zeryx through the door the ram had come out of which opened onto a long hallway lined with doors. They went through one of them seemingly at random and into a plush executive office which Riley assumed was Zeryx's. Here, there was a brief but tedious registration process. Riley was given multiple forms and documents to peruse and sign. He read them all. Including the fine print. He noticed Zeryx was growing impatient and occasionally glancing at a clock on the wall. Apparently most of the other participants just skimmed through the papers and signed without actually reading everything, but businessman Riley never signed anything he didn't thoroughly read and reread.

Fortunately, though, he was a fast reader, and soon, having decided Wildfire was on the level after all - the documents were primarily just insurance for participants' families in case something went wrong - Riley has finished and returned the signed papers to the ram.

"My, you sure took the time to really read those through," said Zeryx as he put them into a folder and then slid them into his desk drawer. "Now, if you'll follow me."

Zeryx stood and again Riley followed him out of the room and down the hall, this time to an elevator. There was no call button, merely a card swiper. The ram used a Wildfire ID card and slid it through the device, which beeped, and the elevator opened. It was quite large and unlike most elevators didn't groan and creak under Riley's weight as they stepped on, again supporting the rhino's theory that bigger men than he had come here before. Dragons most likely. They took the elevator to the second floor, which opened onto a waiting room. Here, Riley finally beheld his seven other fellow contestants, all males, lounging in chairs. A few were reading mazines. Others just sat there looking bored.

There was a horse, a deer, an elephant, another ram, an otter, a zebra and a bull. Except for the deer, they were all quite big and buff, even the otter. The elephant immediately turned and looked at Riley with a hint of antagonism in his eyes, making the rhino realize he was the second largest specimen here besides himself. He wore a T-shirt and slacks. Riley ventured a guess that he owned the old, tough-looking International truck.

"All right," said Zeryx, clapping his hands together. "Now that our eighth and final contestant has arrived, I'm sure you're all just dying to know the specifics of why you're here."

"About damn time," said the horse. He was big and beefy and had a long blonde mane, giving him the appearance of a surfer. His attire consisted of dress pants, shirt and a loosened necktie, with mirrored sunglasses pushed up onto his forehead. "I just wanna know when we can get to the eating part." He grinned and licked his lips as he eyed the deer.

The deer had short antlers despite his seeming older. Apparently he had them regularly trimmed and sanded. With his dainty glasses and sweater vest he seemed quite meek. He shivered a little at he big horse's gaze. As for the others, the zebra was lean and looked like a runner or other type of athlete. He was one of the ones reading a magazine. The otter was barely sitting still, clearly impatient. That left the bull and the ram. The bull also wore glasses and had a studious look about him despite his great size, which of course paled next to Riley, whilst the ram seemed like the youngest one here; his demeanor and dress, consisting of baggy pants and a loosefitting shirt, suggested a college student.

"Now, now, Jake," chided Zeryx of the horse. "When the time comes, you'll get your chance. Now, let me introduce everyone. Jake Ditmeyer there is the overager horse and the deer he's sizing up for supper is Conrad Funderburke." At this, Conrad the deer became even more nervous. Riley pitied him. "Dorian Castlewood is the zebra, Alejandro Ravello is my fellow ram over there, Ramone Peters is the bull, the otter has a real name but insists everyone call him 'Scratch' and Masten Wade is the elephant there. Everyone? This fine specimen here is Riley Crenshaw."

"Hello," they all said with varying degress of enthusiasm. Everyone except Masten who simply grunted and returned to his magazine.

"You can all put your reading material down now, because now that Riley is here we can finally begin."

There were grumbles and everyone stood, the ones who'd been reading tossing their magazines down on the low table in the middle of the room. Zeryx led the through a door - the only other way in or out besides the elevator - and took them into a large, high-tech laboratory that was completely white and sterile-looking. Acting much like a very enthused tour guide, Zeryx explained that here was one of the many laboratories where Wildfire's efforts to explore vore were done. There were banks of computers, different complicated-looking machines and in the center of the room was a big model of a DNA strand on a square pedestal.

Also in the room was a very large horse in a tightfitting button-down shirt and even tighter slacks, with a cell phone clipped to his belt. He looked like an absolute dish. Next to him was a short, middle-aged squirrel with black hair wearing a lab coat, slacks and dress shirt and striped necktie. Immediately, Riley pegged this fellow as Edwin's father, and grinned. The family resemblance was unmistable.

"This is our resident genius Flare Starfire," Zeryx said of the horse. "Wildfire Labs is his baby."

Riley had to resist a chuckle at yet another highly unusual name. But he held it back. Flare went around shaking everyone's hands.

"Yes," he said, "I started Wildfire a few years ago with my partner Cinder, who won't be joining us as he's sleeping off a couple of taurs. It began as a way of researching vore in a controlled laboratory environment. No longer do we need to awkwardly and potentially fatally experiment with better ways to make vore enjoyable for all participants. Here at Wildfire, everything is totally controlled amd micro-managed to get the best possible results."

There were a few murmurs. Riley nodded. Zeryx next introduced the squirrel scientist, confirming the rhino' suspicions.

"And this is one of our biochemists, Dr. Fernald Grimaldi," he said, patting the squirrel on the shoulder.

"Grimaldi, eh?" said Riley. "I know your son."

"Oh?" said Fernald. "How well?" He grinned a little.

"Intimately," Riley dared to venture. Then with a little smirk, said, "He's a wiggler."

There were some more murmurs and a couple of chuckles, and Fernald nodded and grinned approvingly. Clearly, he had no problems with his son being in a gay vorish relationship. Riley liked him immediately. Liked all the Wildfire staff so far. Especially Flare. Although the big horse seemed a bit reserved, he was very to-the-point and had an honest face.

"Well, here's hoping we have some more wigglers here today besides Fernald's son," said Flare, and coughed, spreading his hands to get everyone's attention. All eyes were on him. "You're all here because of Bracker v. Rand. If you haven't heard of it, it's a rather important court case concerning the outcome of the trial of one William Rand, a pred who ate the entire Bracker family without knowing how to reform them. They all died."

He let that sink in for a moment.

"Rand was found guilty of second degree murder and also had his pants sued off by Mr. and Mrs. Bracker's surviving relatives. The fallout of this case has been absolutely monumental, and right now, the courts are trying to determine whether or not vore should be legal, even with reforming. Now, Wildfire's reputation precedes it, and we've been called on by the court to demonstrate how vore can be an enjoyable and pleasurable experience, provided the prey is reformed, and we need audovisual data as evidence, which is why you're all here."

"I thought this was a contest," complained Jake.

"It still is. And I'll explain the rules in a moment. But first I just wanna make it clear to you all that your experiences will be recorded and used in court by the pro-vore side of the argument. You eight, and the other eight who preceded you yesterday, will help determine the law and make history."

There were a few uneasy looks, particularly from Conrad.

"And don't worry if you don't know how to reform your prey," added Fernald. "We'll take care of that."

"We here at Wildfire have thought of everything," added Zeryx with a confident grin.

"Now, the contest is simple," continued Flare. "You'll be divided into two groups of four and put into two separate rooms. Zeryx, Fernald and myself will monitor you from a control room. Each of the four in either group will try and devour his opponents and only the strongest... or hungriest... will prevail. It's going to essentially be a free-for-all. Wrestling, sex, whatever will help you enjoy yourselves and better dominate and consume your opponent. After that, the two remaining predators will face off against one another in the final round to determine the winner."

He then asked if they had any questions. There were some murmurs but eventually it was cleary no one had any. Least of all Riley. He was sizing the others up and determine which if any of them he could overpower. He figured he could take almost all of them except for Masten, and hoped that the elephant wasn't going to be in his group.

"All right," said Fernald, reading off of a typed sheet of paper in his hand. "Riley, Jake, Conrad and Scratch in the first group. Alejandro, Masten, Dorian and Ramone in the second. Group one in Room A and group two in Room B."

He turned and pointed to two doors, and the two different groups headed towards them. Riley led the way in his group, opening the door and entering. The room had plush carpet and aside from another door that Riley guessed adjoined the two rooms and a camera mounted on the ceiling, it was entirely featurelss. The adjoining door had no knob or handle, Riley noticed. Jake, Conrad and Scratch entered after him and then the door swung shut of its own volition with a slam, and there as an audible click. Next door, they heard a similar slam, trapping the second group. A suddenly nervous Scratch gave the doorknob a little tug to no effect.

"It's locked," he said pointlessly.

A voice came over the intercom. Zeryx's. "Okay now, strip off all your clothes and get to it, gentlemen. And by the way... the eating can't begin until the first guy shoots his load off."

"I'm still uneasy about this whole sex thing," said Conrad as he started to undress. The others did the same. "I mean, I just came for the vore. I'm married for Christ's sake!"

So was I, once, Riley thought, and toyed with asking the deer what he was doing here, but then remembered the invitation hadn't explicitly mentioned homosexual contact. Riley guessed Conrad was here either for the potential prize or possibly just out of curiosity, wondering what it'd be like to eat or be eaten. Although it was plain to Riley that this poor fellow was going to be the first to go in their group. Since there was nowhere to hang their clothes, after everyone stripped naked, they just tossed their clothing and other belongings to the floor. , and for a moment everyone stood awkwardly, unsure of who ought to make the first move. Each one of them was erect, hard as a rock, even the shy and ostensibly heterosexual Conrad.

In a control room elsewhere in the lab, Flare, Zeryx and Fernald sat watching the two groups on two large television screens mounted on the walls. Flare was reclining in a large plush executive office chair. Fernald was sitting at the controls while Zeryx stood behind him wearing a headset mic. On the second screen, showing Room B, Masten the elephant was grabbing Alejandro by the back of the neck and forcing him to his knees, making the ram open wide and take his thick cock past his lips as much as he could, the nearly table leg-sized member stretching the ram's maw wide and bulging his throat. Ramone and Dorian were nearby, and the bull had the zebra up against the wall and was forcibly kissing him as he forced his cock up the tight equine ass, pumping in and out of him. Dorian groaned and writhed, whilst Ramone simply grunted, although occasionally he would glance back at Masten.

Taking his headset off, Zeryx said, "I think those two are going to be the main contenders in the second group." He pointed at Masten and Ramone. "Wade and Peters. Look at the way they're sizing each other up."

"Indeed," said Fernald. "I don't expect much from Castlewood and Ravello. They're already prey. See how they submit to their predators sexually."

Flare however turned his gaze to the first screen showing Room A, wondering when someone in the so far less proactive first group was going to make a move. He focused on Riley. While he was impressed by the rhino's size, he seemed very reserved, not as outwardly aggressive as Masten and Ramone or any of the others. Was he just a gentle giant, or was his calm demeanor hiding something darker? The big horse, Jake, seemed like he might prevail, as well, or at least pose a challenge to the rhino. Whereas Flare's two colleagues had already called the two main contenders in the second group, Flare was unprepared just yet to name Riley the surefire winner of the first.

"Hey," said Scratch suddenly, grasping at the nape of Conrad's neck and dragging the deer over. "Suck my cock."

"Eeew," said Conrad. "I'd rather not."

"I said suck it, damn it, none of us can eat or be eaten until one of us blows our load, and my stomach is empty."

At the mention of empty stomachs, Riley felt his own growl. He'd skipped breakfast because of this. Deciding it was time to quit farting around, the rhino crossed the smallish room in two steps, politely motioning Jake aside and then roughly grabbing Scratch, yanking him around and making him release Conrad. He didn't like bullies. The muscular otter seemed surprised and blinked stupidly.

"I have a better idea," said Riley, "why don't you suck my dick?"

"Wha--?" cried Scratch.

He forced the otter to his knees much as Masten had with Alejandro. Then seizing him roughly but harmlessly by his spiky hair, he made the otter open his mouth and forced the bulbous, drooling head of his cock into Scratch's mouth. The otter's efforts to protest were muffled completely and Riley groaned aloud as he pushed more and more of the thick cock inside.

He felt someone come up behind him, and glance back. It was Jake. Grinning, the horse began to push his flared cockhead underneath Riley's tail and between his large gray asscheeks. The rhino didn't protest. He wasn't all dom, after all, and rather liked horses. He nodded his approval and closed his eyes with delight as the thick horse-cock plunged into his depths. Jake wrapped his arms around Riley's middle and began thrusting his hips, slowly fucking the bigger rhino as Scratch mewled and sucked Riley off. Conrad stood apart from them, watching with wide eyes, unwilling to join in, but still unable to look away. He started touching himself, and as the pace of the threesome's little love-train picked up, the deer was soon full-on masturbating.

"Seems someone's bi-curious," Zeryx said in the control room, indicating the voyeuristic Conrad.

"Yes, some married men tend to be," Ferald said, and he ought to know, having an ex-wife and a son of his own. "I'll bet you anything his wife knows nothing about this and he won't ever tell her."

Back in Room A, Riley gave a sudden grunt and clenched his tailhole around Jake's invading member, and Scratch's eyes widened as the rhino's climax hit, pumping what seemed liked gallons of semen - at least a little of which was probably still what was left of Edwin - into the startled otter's mouth. Scratch struggled to swallow, but a lot of it just squirted out from the corners of his mouth and dribbled down his cheeks and jawline. Observing this from over Riley's shoulder, Jake gave a laugh. Scratch glared up at him with annoyance and continued drinking down whatever he could. Behind Riley, the horse kept right on pumping his thick cock in and out of the rhino before finally hitting his own climax, arching his back and nickering with delight, giving unto Riley the wonderful feeling of hot jets of thick cum flooding into his bowels.

Riley took a moment to relax, closing his eyes. "Ahhh," he sighed. "Well, that may not make me the winner just yet, boys, but it certainly is a good start."

"Well, now the first group can begin the true competition," observed Fernald dryly. He sat back in his chair. The front of his dress slacks was tented massively and he squirmed a little.

Leaning over him, Zeryx chuckled as he looked at the squirrel's tented trousers. "Turned on by our work as usual, eh, Doctor?" the ram teased. His big hands reached down and started undoing the squirrel's pants.

"What about the experiment?" protested Fernald meekly as Zeryx freed his throbbing erection from within the confines of his pants and underwear.

"The cameras are recording everything," said Zeryx, and then dipped his horned head down into Fernald's lap, slurping the squirrel scientist's maleness into his drooling maw. "Mmm...!"

Still sitting nearby, Flare glanced over at his two subordinates and shook his head. This turn of events was hardly surprising. The vore experiments always had this kind of effect on the scientists observing them, and this wouldn't be the first or last time Zeryx took the lead and goaded a mostly willing colleague into just forgetting about their work and getting down and dirty right there in the control room. Having witnessed such antics before, the big gorse looked away from them, and focused his attention on the second viewscreen.

In Room B, it was actually Dorian who came first in that group, the splurting his thick seed as his ass was rammed thoroughly by Ramone. Realizing this meant the vore portion of the contest could begin, the bull opened wide and wasted no time in grabbing hold of the zebra's head and proceeding to stuff it into his maw. Observing from nearby, Masten glowered. He didn't like the bull starting before he did, and looked down. Alejandro was still sucking on the thick elephantine cock, unaware that Dorian had ejaculated and was now beginning to get eaten by Ramone. Putting his huge hand on the back of the ram's head, Masten urged him to suck harder and put more effort into his work. He didn't need to cum. He could just pull the ram off of his dick and begin devouring him, but he didn't want to start on Alejandro just yet. Instead, he would save him for last. He kept his gaze steeled on Ramone as the bull started stuffing live, squirming zebra into his mouth. Soon, Masten though. Soon.

In the control room, Flare found the performance of the second group thus far to be quite impressive, but lacking something. As he turned and looked at the first viewscreen, though, ignoring the pleasured moans of Fernald as he got his dick sucked by Zeryx, and trying to ignore his own erection growing inside of his pants for the time being, he noticed the first group had not yet begin voring each other, and focused his attention especially on Riley. It occurred to Flare that the difference between the two groups was that the second one was more concerned with rushing into things, whereas the first one seemed more about taking their time. The horse was of the opinion this was a fine approach. It would make the eventual vore that much sweeter when it finally happened. And judging by the way Riley was beginning to eye his fellow volunteers, it was finally about to.

In Room A, Conrad, still furiously beating his own deer-meat, was the third to climax, gasping as his medium-sized cock shot a single thin squirt of seed through the air to splatter onto the carpet. He collapsed panting against the wall. Thus far, Scratch was the only one of the four in Room A who hadn't cum yet. Riley would see about changing that momentarily, however. For his first victim, though, he had entirely other ideas, turning and looking at the deer and barely seemed to notice as Jake extracted himself from his ass. The room by now had a faint aroma of sweat and maleness to it. Riley breathed it deep through his flaring nostrils. He loved that smell. It was one reason why he loved the gym so much. It reminded him of his wrestling days.

He released Scratch, who stumbled back into a sitting position, coughing and spluttering, leaving the rhino-cock bobbing gently in the warm air, glistening with otter saliva and still drooling pre. The cumslit opened and closed hungrily, making the otter yelp a little and start scooting off.

"Aw, don't worry, hon," Riley cooed, "you're not the first. Instead, I think the first one of us to bid Wildfire Labs adieu ought to be the one who so far hasn't done a hell of a whole lot to participate."

All eyes were on Conrad, who was still tuckered out from his orgasm. Riley guessed the poor deer didn't get to cum all that often, and so that one piddily squirt he called a climax left him thoroughly panting. He looked up, blinking, as Riley came over. With both hands, the rhino grasped his sides and roughly but harmlessly lifted him off his feet as if he were nothing. Better to go ahead and get the least qualified participant out of the way right at the start, he reasoned.

"Hey, wait...!" whined Conrad.

"Time to join in on the fun, Conrad, my boy," Riley said, and leaned his head back and opened wide.

"Wait, aaahh...!" cried the deer.

He was upended and shoved headfirst into that cavernous, yawning mouth. His glasses were knocked off his face by the fat, drooling tongue which slobbered thick drool over his startled face. His vision was a blur of tongue and teeth and then finally he was plunged into darkness as his short-antlered head passed into the throat. Outside, Scratch, still sitting down, and Jake, who stood off to one side, watched as Riley swallowed, sucking the weakly struggling deer in to his middle. Jake briefly entertained the idea of starting on Scratch while Riley was busy but was too mesmerized watching the rhino eat.

A second gulp and he was in to his waist. The thick tongue curled up between Conrad's legs and toyed with his spent cock, bringing it to life again as the slick tip teased his balls. The deer shuddered and came again, but not much. However Riley's only reward was his prey's frenzied squirms of pleasure. Having obtained this, he released the deer, hands falling to his sides, and threw his head back, mouth yawning wide, and simply allowed gravity and his throat's powerful muscles to do the rest. Before the amazed eyes of Scratch and Jake, the limp legs of the deer slid down and out of side and Riley's already ample belly stretched out a bit more. He gave a soft burp.

"Mmm, ah," he said, turning to the otter and the horse. "I love the thin ones. It's always the thin ones that slide down the smoothest." So saying, he gave his bulging belly a slow, sensual rub. The other two observed his cock was still hard.

Leaning forward in his seat, Flare propped his chin up on his folded hands and smiled. Riley was already on a roll. In Room B, Ramone was still struggling to choke Dorian down and Masten still hadn't made a move one way or the other with Alejandro, who was still slurping and worshiping the elephant's huge dick, but in Room A, Riley had already swallowed his first victim. As he'd predicted, this in that room were beginning to heat up and get a hell of a lot more interesting now.

Nearby, Fernald gasped as he came and Zeryx stood back up, squirrel-cum dripping from his muzzle, and then Fernald was out of his chair suddenly and on his knees, unzipping and pulling down the ram's jeans. Thick ram-cock spilled forth and was immediately slurped into Fernald's eager mouth.

Back in Room A, Riley turned to his two remaining companions, who had now become his competitors. The contest was on. Scratch hopped to his feet and he and Jake exchanged uncertain looks. Riley simply stood there with his arms crossed as his huge belly gurgled noisily around its recent addition, whose struggles had already ceased. It wasn't yet satisfied with the light snack. It wanted the full meal. And the rhino was staring right at it. He slowly smirked and made a show of licking his chops. Boasting and showing off had always been a large part of wrestling, as it helped to not only get the audience pumped up, but to showcase your superiority to your opponents.

He sized them up. Jake was the only one he was certain was going to present a real challenge. Scratch didn't seem like he'd be much of a problem. In a way he pitied them and was jealous of the second group which had more muscleboys in it, particularly that big hunk of elephant named Masten. Riley licked his chops again, eager to get these two over with so he could move on to the real meal, the real challenge, Masten. He figured even if Masten defeated him, it would be a worthy defeat... and if he won? Oh, how the thought of that huge elephant packed tightly away into his stomach made his still hard cock twitch and his belly gurgle loudly.

Suddenly Jake and Scratch made their move, interrupting Riley's thoughts, and both of them rushed at him at once. It seemed they'd decided to join forces to defeat him, to give themselves more of a chance at winning. But Riley knew that even if one of them were to beat him and devour him somehow, neither of them stood a chance against Masten. Whoever won would certainly be in for a surprise.

As they ran at him, Riley crouched low. The smaller, faster otter was first to get to him, and Scratch attempted to jump onto the rhino and knock him down. Instead, Riley only staggered back a bit from the impact and remained standing. Scratch, muscular through he hs was, was absolutely knocked silly and fell flat on his ass. Then came Jake. He attempted to seize Riley's shoulders but the rhino grabbed his hands and locked their fingers together, so that each was squeezing the other's hands. They struggled. While smaller than Riley, the horse was bigger than the otter and so his larger bulk presented more of a challenge, and the two spent the better part of two minutes straining and grunting as each attempted to overpower the other.

As the struggle went on however, Jake began to get the sinking feeling that the huge rhino was only toying with him and trying to wear him down to make him an easier meal. And he was right. With sudden, effortless ease, Riley pushed on him and released his hands. Jake staggered back, but Riley prevented him from landing on top of the still stunned Scratch by grabbing his arm. With a grunt, he yanked the surprised horse back and lifted him up, wrapping his huge, muscular arms around Jake's middle and pinning the horse's arms to his sides, in a massive and powerful bear hug.

"Gotcha," he whispered.

He flexed, using his rock hard muscles to crush the wiggling horse against his massive chest and fat belly. Jake cried out in a mixture of pain and, to Riley's surprise and delight, pleasure. He licked Jake's chest to taste and calm him, and felt the horse's erection against his belly. He bucked the big equine up and down using his arms so that Jake was essentially forced to involuntarily dry-hump the rhino's broad tummy, until with a cry of pleasure, he came, shooting his cum in thick gushes over that broad expanse of fat and splattering some onto the huge chest as well. When Riley stopped, the spent horse was limp and unmoving in his arms, thoroughly worn out, outclassed and dominated by the rhino with the simplest method of overpowering someone. As big as he was and as muscular as he appeared to be, Jake struck Riley as being pretty lightweight. Yeah, he was big and tough but didn't work out and so despite appearances wasn't in shape.

By contrast, Riley appeared slow and fat... and while he was both of these things, he had carefully built up muscle to back it all up, and stayed physically active. He worked out enough to stay healthy and retain his physical prowess, but was lazy enough to keep his big fat belly which he'd come to enjoy so much, despite having originally gone to the Monochrome Gym to work it off. He had worked off a lot of his body fat but liked his big tummy. He wasn't sure why. He just did. With a contented sigh he released Jake, allowing the horse's limp form to slowly slither down the big, cum-coated belly to fall to his hands and knees on the floor at Riley's feet. He knelt there panting for a moment before Riley decided it was time to tuck him in.

Before he could move to consume him, though, Scratch rose to his feet, having recovered from his collision with Riley in the meantime. Deciding Jake wasn't going anywhere for the moment, Riley stepped around him and came running at Scratch. He tackled the otter, who, surprisingly, pushed back, digging his heels into the carpet. Riley was impressed, but he should've expected as much from a guy with a low center of gravity. Deciding that trying to push the otter back as he had the horse was useless, Riley let go and lurched back, and when Scratch predictably came at him again, he used the otter's momentum against him, and lifted him like nothing. Turning him around, he chuckled as he tucked the struggling otter under his left arm and sighed. He held him there whilst Scratch struggled and kicked uselessly, unable to break free, until finally after a few moments he'd expended his energy and hung limply panting as Jake had done.

Turning he found Jake still down on the floor panting and showing no signs of recovering anytime soon. Confident in his victory, Riley breathed deep the smell that permeated the room. The rich stink of sweat and sex, undeniably male. He loved it. Now his mind turned to how he ought to consume his two defeated opponents. His once more hard cock made him consider stuffing one of them down inside of there, and he considered Scratch, who he was already holding, but decided that he wanted a larger meal for his cock than the otter. He then shifted his grip so he was holding Scratch lower and let him slip down until he was kneeling behind him, head leaning against one of the large ass cheeks.

Scratch was beginning to recover when he realized exactly where he was, and he jerked back, but Riley's big hand held him fast, and guided it up underneath the rhino's swishing tail until the otter's lips came in contact with Riley's puckered anus, which, to Scratch's shock, opened hungrily to admit his muzzle. Riley groaned in absolute delight as he arched his back and pushed on the back of the otter's head, shoving his entire head inside with a soft fleshy sound, the tight tailhole sealing around Scratch's thick neck. The otter's hands, free, flew up and grasped at the big butt, fingers scrabbling against the rough gray flesh before pressing the palms against them, pushing, trying to yank his head free, but the tailhole only gripped tighter.

Riley licked his lips, frowning a little. Scratch was short but his beefy build gave the otter very broad shoulders. He worked himself back and forth while simultaneously lowering himself down over the kneeling form of the otter, and as he struggled, Scratch hunched his shoulders up, and with a sigh of delight and relief from Riley, the broad shoulders slid up inside easily. Now it was smooth sailing, and all he had to do was sit back and let his weight bring him completely down over Scratch's trapped form. Grasping his thick cock, he did just that, and Scratch effectively disappeared up inside of Riley as the big rhino's ass lowered down and landed against the floor with a muffled thud. Riley relaxed a little now and stroked himself to the otter's struggles, his cock leaking steady precum now.

In the control room, Flare had unzipped his pants and was casually stroking his massive equine member as he observed Riley's performance so far. Very impressive. Not all that surprising, given the rhino's history as a wrestler and much larger size as compared to his three so-called opponents. But still entertaining to watch Riley take them one by one. Flare rather liked that Riley was saving the largest of the three, his own fellow horse, for last. Nearby, Zeryx was lifting an unresisting Fernald out of his chair and opening his maw wide. The squirrel didn't struggle as the big ram slid his head inside of his mouth and began to devour him.

Flare chuckled. As usual, their horniness from observing their experiments was getting to them and causing them to want to engage in their own vorish play. Between this and the two groups of contestants, Flare realized, it was turning into a vore extravaganze here at the lab. Speaking of which, taking his eyes off of the ram swallowing the willing squirrel, and still idly stroking his horse-cock, Flare glance at the screen showing Room B to see how the second group was doing.

Ramone continued gulping down the struggling, squirming form of Dorian, Masten watching with great interest as the big bull swallowed the zebra to his middle, tossing his great horned head back and yawning his jaws wide to take in his hips. Meanwhile, Alejandro was still worshiping and kissing the elephant's big cock, having his head stroked by Masten's big hand. When Ramone had swallowed Dorian to his thighs and was beginning to turn to face the other two, the zebra's legs sticking out of his mouth, he was caught completely off guard as the elephant's trunk wrapped around him like a thick octopus tentacle, pinning his arms to his sides. He tried to scream but Dorian was filling his throat and prevented him. As he was lifted off his feet, the bull coughed, trying to dislodge the zebra instictively, either by finishing swallowing him or by regurgitating him.

Masten brought him closer and squeezed hard with the trunk. With a lurch the zebra slid out of the bull's mouth a little, and, grinning, opened his great tusked maw and let Dorian's feet enter it. The squirming form of the zebra was expelled from the mouth of the thwarted bull, right into the eager maw of the elephant! Dorian's head exited Ramone's mouth and he blinked at the sudden brightness of the lights, only to then find himself slipping backwards down Masten's throat. He gave a little cry as the elephant's jaws shut and he gave a great swallow, and the bulge of the twice-swallowed zebra slid down to disappear into the elephant's pudgy tummy. Then, with a burp, Masten reopened his mouth and used his trunk to tilt Ramone back so his feet entered the mouth, as Dorian's had, having realized the way the bull's horns pointed there was not way he could eat him headfirst.

Ramone struggled and fought as his feet and legs entered the dark cavern of Masten's gullet, the trunk guiding him right into his destination. The big broad tongue slid out to help him in, slurping over his thin-furred muscular body. Below, Alejandro was still suckling on the cock, and with a grunt, Masten experienced his second orgasm of the day, and Alejandro eagerly drank down the thick cum. As the flow tapered off, the ram stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and watched the horned head of the bull vanish into the elphant's mouth, shoved in by the tip of the trunk, which also went past the thick lips. With an "glorp," Masten pulled the trunk out and reached for Alejandro with it, even as the broad bulge of Ramone was going down his throat.

He took the ram by the arm. "Well, son, since you did such a great job of suckin' my cock, why don't we let it return the favor?" He grinned broadly.

Alejandro chuckled nervously and was then guided once more down towards the the mammoth elephant-cock, the drooling slit yawning open to accept the ram's curly-horned head. He gave a muffled cry of surprise as he was crammed facefirst into it. Watching this, Flare was very pleased. He'd been eagerly awaiting the cock vore portion of things. He gripped his cock harder and began jerking it in earnest. Zeryx, who until then had been preoccupied with swallowing Fernald, noticed as well and turned, kicking squirrel feet and bushy squirrel tail hanging out of his open mouth.

"A lovely development," said Flare. "I was hoping they'd get around to cock vore sooner or later."

Zeryx finished swallowing Fernald, the last of the bushy tail vanishing past his lips. He gulped hard and burped. His stomach swelled out, but not all that much, considering the squirrel wasn't that big. He then sighed and say down in Fernald's chair.

"Crenshaw's anal vore was quite the fun turn of events as well," he said after catching his breath. He looked at the screen showing Room A. "And unless Ditmeyer pulls off a miracle in there it really does look like Crenshaw is going to be Wade's final opponent."

"Yes, indeed," said Flare, easing off on his cock, holding off until the main event as he kept his eyes on the second screen for now, wanting to see Masten's final performance before he went to face Riley.

The huge elephant grunted and moaned as he stuffed the struggling, muscular form of Alejandro into his cock, which was stretched massively around the ram's form. It took large gulps, sucking Alejandro down slowly but surely towards the pachyderm's waiting balls. When the ram was in up to his waist, Masten bent down and took him by his ankles and then lifted him up so that he was upside down. Unwilling to simply release him and let gravity and his cock's swallows do the remainder of the work, Masten grinned confidently and, keeping his hold on Alejandro's ankles, shoved him down hard, giving a loud cry of predatory pleasure as the ram disappeared into the cock to his calves in one swift plunge. Now Masten let go of the ankles, as they and the feet were essentially all that was visible of Alejandro outside of the monstrously engorged dick.

He stood up and leaned against the wall and relaxed, rubbing over his swollen belly, which had already begun to gurgle and digest Dorian and Ramone as their pitiful wiggles died down. His huge cock bucked up and down in the air, flinging precum this way and that, as Alejandro's weakly kicking feet disappeared down into the urethra, which closed after the ram's toes with a soft "glurp" and a sigh from Masten. In the control room, Flare watched as the bulge shaped like Alejandro traveled down the cock and then filled out the already large balls massively so that they sagged down onto the carpet. Masten's steadily leaking cock shuddered and returned to its original size.

Turning and looking at the camera, Masten burped and said, "Okay, I'm done. When do I go to the other room?"

Zeryx turned away from the first screen, put his headset back on and and spoke into the mic. "Your final opponent isn't done yet, Mr. Wade. We'll let you know when he's ready. Until then, you just relax and digest your three-course meal, big guy." He chuckled.

Back in Room A, Riley stood up and stretched a bit. Scratch's lower extremities had almost completely disappeared up the big rhino's ass. Only his feet and tail tip remained, clenched in between the broad asscheeks. With a grunt and a flex of his anal muscles as he arched his back, Riley completely sucked the otter's feet and tail inside with a soft schlucking sound. Finishing his stretch and feeling good and rested, he then returned his attention to his final meal, Jake. He couldn't rightly call the horse an opponent anymore. It seemed like Jake had finally given in, because he simply sat there looking defeated.

Riley slipped his hand down over his considerable belly, inside of which Conrad had finally stopped squirming and Riley could hear the loud gurgles signalling digestion, and groped for his erection. He found it and gripped it tightly. Inside of him he could feel Scratch making his journey through his bowels towards his final destination in the stomach. There, he'd meet up with Conrad, or whatever remained of him, and the two would turn into a thick, nutrient rich soup together to nourish the big rhino's body. As for Jake, Riley had other ideas for him. He jerked his cock slowly as he approached the sitting horse. Hearing him, Jake turned and his eyes boggled at the huge tower of fat and muscle looming over him.

"Time to go, horsie," Riley said softly.

Jake leaped to his feet as if to attack again, but Riley was deceptively fast, having anticipated this. A harmless blow to the horse's midsection drove the wind out of him, and he doubled over, wheezing and falling onto his knees. Riley regretted having to resort to such violence, but he was uninterested in struggling with the horse again. As Jake bent over, Riley took him by the back of his head and forced him to stoop down towards his loins. At the same time, he angled his throbbing maleness up, the cumslit gaping wide, thin strings of precum connecting the two sides like spittle. Jake gave a single muffled cry of protest and then his long equine snout was inserted with a "flumph." He looked quite silly kneeling there with half of his face inside of a cock.

He tried to pull himself free but his muzzle was caught in the inextricable pull of the cock's interior. Releasing his head, Riley balled up his fists, muscles bulging a bit, and grinned. Then he closed his eyes and flexed his dick. With a "schlurp" and a muffled scream, Jake's entire head was drawn in, and the ravenous cock didn't stop there, the already impossibly stretched cumslit working over the horse's broad shoulders with ease, as if they were nothing. Now it was easy going. Still using naught but his own hungry cock, Riley kept grunting and flexing, the cock slipping its way down the horse's muscular kneeling form, lubed by pre which slid in rivulets down the naked equine's body as he slowly disappeared up into the seemingly all-consuming cock, bulging it hugely with his form. To those in the control room, it appeared as if the horse's upper body had been encased in a latex bodysuit it was so tightly fitted to him, and so easy to see every detail of that trapped form.

What Riley did next was incredible. Whereas Masten had needed to grasp his prey's legs to lift him up for the next stage of his meal, Riley simply clenched his fists tighter, gritted his teeth, and gave a sudden forward thrust of his hips, and the cock lifted itself, partially consumed horse and all, up into the air. Jake's legs flailed around uselessly in the typical manner, and the rhino-cock began making lewd, slurping, gulping motions, swallowing that kicking, powerful body down in further.

The outline of Jake's head disappeared past the base of the shaft and entered the balls, bulging them out a bit with his snout. The bulge of the snout could be observed to open and close its mouth in a futile, soundless scream as it was pressed up against the interior of the sac. The bulge of the shoulders soon entered also, and Riley's balls began getting larger as more and more horse was emptied into them. The ravenous dick gulped more strongly, almost to Jake's waist. Riley, without opening his eyes, reached down and took hold of Jake's massively swollen horse-cock and pressed it against his taut tummy so it wouldn't be bent painfully backwards upon being consumed. A few seconds later, the stretched maw of the dick slid seamlessly over them, and Riley chuckled and gave Jake's pert ass a smack before it vanished into the slit.

Now, the urethra clamped Jake's legs shut, tail between them, and those strong limps pointed up, hooflike toes pointed right at the ceiling as though the horse were diving, and in a few smooth, liquid motions, they slid down and out of sight entirely, the cumslit slipping shut behind the tips of his toes like a sated beast's mouth, pre dribbling out like saliva. The tapering bulge of those swallowed legs slid gradually down until they disappeared past the base of the cock, and all of the consumed horse was deposited into Riley's balls. Only then did Riley relax, unclench his fists and open his eyes, and sigh in satisfaction, chuckling and giving his cock a stroke as if it were a beloved pet that had just fed.

Inside the balls, Jake struggled to no avail, before finally, exhausted thoroughly, he gave in and settled down. A thick "squelch" sounded the beginning of the stallion being churned into rhino cum for his predator. He liquefied and would be released the next time Riley had an orgasm. Which, considering he'd now won his first round, might be any moment now. He turned and leaned patiently with one hand against the wall.

"Okay," came Zeryx's voice over the loudspeaker. "Time for the final round!"

Riley turned and faced the door which adjoined the two rooms. There was an electronic "beep" and it slid open to reveal the hulking form of Masten beyond. The huge elephant stepped through with some difficulty due to his size, and approached the rhino, trunk swaying a little, hands balled into fists. His eyes were ice cold and intimidating, but Riley had taken on tougher opponents than this by pachyderm before. With a small smile, he gave a curt little bow, and then rushed at his approaching opponent. Masten did the same. Riley threw his shoulder into the elephant's ponderous gut, making Masten grunt, but then the thick trunk reached down and wrapped around Riley's head suddenly with a powerful gentleness, and started guiding his head towards the tusked maw as Masten grabbed his arms and held them, actually lifting the rhino off the floor!

In the control room, Zeryx stroked over his packed, gurgling belly as he watched. Flare leaned forwards in sudden interest as it looked like Riley had been totally outclassed. Regardless of who won, though, he was immensely turned on, more than ever before, his fingers going from teasing his cock to outright gripping and stroking it. Back in the room, Riley gritted his teeth as his head entered the mouth and the gray lips sealed around his throat. His horns scraping along the roof of the elephant's mouth didn't seem to bother Masten much, and the thick tongue slid underneath his chin and began to guide him towards the heckong, dark throat beyond.

Riley was unwilling to go peacefully. He'd never been anyone's prey and wasn't going to start now. He struggled harder. Unable to break Masten's grip, Riley decided to use his mass against the elephant, and suddenly lunged himself forwards into the throat! Masten's eyes went wide and he staggered back at the sudden forward momentum, lost his balance, and fell flat on his back. In the process, his grip on Riley's arms loosened, and the rhino wrenched them free, planting them firmly on the floor and tugging his head free of the mouth. His face and head dripping with the elephant's thick saliva, Riley strained and grunted as the trunk attempted to pull him back. Suddenly he felt Masten's cock poking at his large rump, and got an idea.

Tilting backwards, he pressed his tailhole against the cockhead, and groaned out loud as it spread him easily and started to slide in. Masten gasped as he did so, and his eyes became slightly glazed. The trunk loosened as Masten seemed to consent to letting his meal get fucked and filled with cream before being eaten, but Riley had other ideas. Like him, Masten was visibly worn out. He intended to wear him out even further. He grabbed at his own cock and jerked it slowly as he moved himself up and down on the mastadonian maleness filling his huge ass, moving his huge bulk up and down surprisingly easily using just his thickly muscled legs. Masten responded by thrusting his own gargantuan hips, pushing his dick upwards and into Riley. Perfect, thought Riley as he wiped some of Masten's saliva off of his face with his free hand.

In the control room, overcome by his arousal at watching the display, Flare got out of his chair and crossed over to where Zeryx sat. The ram was pulled out of his seat and made to bend over the control panel as the big horse shoved his thick equine meat into his tight rear end and began banging him in earnest. Zeryx moaned out in delight at this new development.

Meanwhile, it wasn't long before Masten experienced orgasm, arching his back and bellowing out in pleasure as he came, shooting his thick load up inside of Riley, who jerked his cock one final time and shot his own load, formerly Jake the horse, now in liquid form, in a large geyser which splattered over Masten's chest and also on his face. The rhino sighed as he halted his thrusting and simply sat astride the elephant's lap as Masten lay there panting and covered in sweat and cum. Masten's trunk slid off of Riley entirely and flumped limply to the side, and that was when Riley knew he had him. Getting off of Masten, Riley reached down and offered him his hand. Masten hesitated and then took it. Riley made as if to help him stand, but his other hand grabbed at the back of Masten's neck and he lowered his head, opening his mouth wide... and wider... and wider still!

The top of Masten's head slid into the rhino's hungry, drool-lined mouth, Masten grunting in annoyance and disapproval. However, he was so worn out from the thorough fucking Riley gave him that he barely even resisted as that impossibly massive maw descended over him, tight and stretchy. In seconds, the rhino had engulfed the elephant's entire head, trunk and all, heedless of the big, blunt tusks, and his lips sealed tightly around the thick neck. Even as Masten's big hands flew up and tried to pry the thick lips off his neck and free himself, Riley was settling back into a squatting position and getting comfortable for what was going to be quite a tough, but not impossible meal. He started to move his mouth down, pushing down using his muscular legs and great weight, and with painstaking slowness, like a great anaconda swallowing its huge prey, the rhino's tightly-stretched, mouth worked down the massive body of the elephant, who was still too tired to really struggle.

It took almost a full two minutes for Riley to consume his massive meal. When he was at Masten's waist, he used every single ounce of strength he had remaining to stand and rear his horned head back, tossing the elephant into the air, Masten's legs kicking weakly. Now Masten simply slowly slid down inside of him due to his great weight and the power of gravity. The great belly, filled with the still squirming forms of Dorian and Ramone, gave Riley the most difficulty, but he managed, which impressed Flare as he watched from inside the control room, still slipping it to the moaning Zeryx. The rhino's body ballooned outward massively, almost comically, with the huge size of the elephant, making Riley that much larger, and he sealed his lips behind the huge feet and his stretched mouth returned to normal, and he took that final gulp to send Masten completely down inside of himself, and then let out a huge, rolling, wet belch.

"Well that was pretty much expected," said Zeryx huskily as precum leaking from his ram-cock as Flare pounded him. He groaned and shot his load all over the control panel. "Aw, shit, not again!" he cried in mild annoyance. "That's the fifth fucking time this week!"

Flare chuckled and closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he came, flooding Zeryx's tight ass with his thick horse-cum. He laid panting against the ram for a few moments. After recovering, he pulled himself free and stood back a bit, catching his breath. As Zeryx settled back into the chair once again, he adjusted his headset. On the viewscreens, Room B was totally empty except for discarded clothes. Room A also had discarded clothing but also one very, very full rhino.

"Well done, Mr. Crenshaw!" Zeryx said breathlessly, grinning. "It appears as though you've won our little contest!"

"Now what?" Riley inquired casually, then burped.

"Just wait there a moment and we'll get to you in a minute or two... we've, uh, kind of made a big mess of the monitoring station here."

Zeryx grumbled and started hunting for something to wipe all the cum off of the expensive scientific equipment with. Flare groaned a little and eased his still sensitive member back into his pants and zipped up. Adjusting himself a little, he then went over to the recording equipment to make sure everything that transpired in the two rooms had been successfully captured. After satisfying himself that it had, he took out the two DVDs onto which footage had been burned and turned to Zeryx.

"Okay, make sure these get to our guy at the lawyer's office so they can be entered into evidence. I'm sure this, along with all the other sessions we've got recorded, will be more than enough to persuade the judge that vore is harmless fun."

"Right-O," said Zeryx, and took the DVDs, putting them into two unmarked keepcases.

"I'll go and see to our winner," said Flare with a grin.

He left the control room. In Room A, Riley was sitting down, grinning happily as he massaged his massively bulging gut, which gurgled loudly. Masten was going to take quite some time to digest. The door opened, and Flare entered, holding something in his hand, a piece of paper which Riley took to be a check.

"Have fun?" the horse asked. "You look pretty stuffed."

"I am!" chuckled Riley. "You guys mind if I relax here for a bit before I go home?" he asked. "That big fella is gonna take a mighty long time to break down, and I kind of can't fit inside my car with this big of a gut."

Flare nodded. "Sure you can. We have residence areas for the employees which we sometimes let guests use. You can sleep off your meal there. No sense in you lying on the floor." He smiled.

"Right, and, uh, if I'm staying overnight, can I use your phone, as well? I'd like to call my maid and tell her I won't be home until tomorrow morning."

"Of course. Oh, and here is your reward for winning the contest." Flare offered the piece of paper to Riley. So, it was a check after all.

"Ah, no thanks," said Riley. "I'm pretty well off already. Don't need any extra money." He smirked. "But I will take a night out with you, if that's okay."

At first he expected Flare to be surprised but then the horse nodded and grinned, pocketing the check. "How does this Friday sound?" he asked softly.

"Perfect."

Rising with some difficulty, Riley thanked Flare and was given directions to where he could go and rest comfortably. As he left, he pondered what he and Flare would do on Friday. Dinner most likely. Yes, though, Riley, dinner sounded sublime. With Flare as the main course. He licked his lips.

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daebakinc · 1 year ago

Text

Dirty, Dirty Dancing Pt. 6

A Dirty Dancing AU

Pairing: Yunho X Female Reader X Hyunjin (polyamorous relationship)

Word Count: 5.3K

Synopsis: The college campus where boyfriend, Yunho, is a visiting dance instructor seems like every other university you’ve visited until a secret party reveals it’s anything but. After a drunken mishap, promising dance student, Hyunjin, is left without a dance partner. Enlisted in helping him before a big audition, you begin to catch feelings for him. Can you help him and maintain a relationship with your boyfriend?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~Admin V

It was just you and Hyunjin in the studio since Yunho had ballet and pilates to teach for the morning.

You were still feeling a little uneasy about everything but kept repeating the mantra of ‘it’s just a job’ over and over again in your head.

The first move to work on was wrapping your arm behind you and around Hyunjin’s neck. At first, you thought the problem would be that you’d be all blushy because of how sensual it was. However, it quickly became an issue that you were ticklish and kept giggling as his fingertips brushed down your arm.

Once you were able to do it without squirming and keep a mostly straight face, it was spinning out then back into his grip. That part was fun and something you enjoyed. Hyunjin encouraged you to show your emotions on your face, as the facial expressions were part of the dance.

The following move required some trust, as he held onto you and dipped you backward in a circular motion.

All of these movements ended with you looking into Hyunjin’s eyes, which was becoming trouble for you. The old routine had zero eye contact and you were now very aware of your allure towards Hyunjin. It’s just a job. It’s just a job.

Of course, you had to be reminded about keeping your shoulders down and posture straight, along with other things he told you before. But when you felt lost or confused this time, instead of being strict about it, Hyunjin reminded you that dancing was a heartbeat, and the two of you would take a moment to find it together, each time with your hand on his chest while he held it in place, stepping to the rhythm.

When you weren’t looking into Hyunjin’s gaze, your back was pressed against him, your bodies swaying in unison, his hands on your arms, or waist, or thighs, his scent invading your nose.

As you felt a pang in your belly, which you were definitely choosing to ignore, you continued chanting, it’s just a job. It’s just a job.

Yunho and Felix came into the studio as 11:00 rolled around. You’d worked on half the routine by then and showed the boys what you knew so far.

“It looks much better than the other routine,” Felix smiled.

“Yes,” Yunho agreed. “The chemistry is much more visible, and you look so much more comfortable, baby.”

Covering your face as your blush filled your cheeks, you said small thank-yous for the compliments.

Hyunjin and Felix had to leave for class, leaving you and Yunho like the first day of your dance-life.

“Do you want to practice it a little with me before we eat lunch?”

“Okay,” you nodded.

Both of you laughed when you tried to reach behind for his neck. He had to spread his legs until he was Hyunjin’s height so you could reach more securely. As you continued with the dance, it felt easier with Yunho, like you could breathe as you were doing the movements. Was it because your connection with him was stronger?

The two of you did the parts of the routine you knew about four times, feeling good about remembering the motions, before taking a break to eat.

You’d packed sandwiches for the two of you. Curled up in a chair in the offices, you focused on chewing the different textures in your mouth so you didn’t have to think.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

You looked up at Yunho. “What?”

“You’re spaced out over there. Are you okay?”

Shaking your head quickly, you set your sandwich down. “Just giving my brain a rest from counting steps and remembering positions.” Or thinking about why it felt so different dancing the same routine with each man.

He stared at you for a while then grinned. “Okay.”

When you were finished eating, Yunho helped you with different stretches. He then had an idea to play music and just dance freely to help you loosen up. He held your hands as he spun you and pulled you in and out from him. He would also spin. When you were both laughing, he lifted you and twirled around. Soon you forgot about all the worry of whatever it was you were feeling when you danced with Hyunjin.

Finally, Yunho went back to working on Hyunjin’s routine with you. Since he helped to choreograph it, he started showing you the next moves you hadn’t learned yet. After learning a new step, you would do it a few times, then do the whole dance from the beginning with music.

Before you knew it, it was 2:00. When Hyunjin returned, he was piggy-back-carrying Yeji. Felix walked in with them.

Yunho ran to get a chair for Yeji and helped Hyunjin set her down. He then looked to Hyunjin. “We’ve been practicing and I taught her the next part.”

Yeji, Felix, and Hyunjin said encouragements to see the dance so far.

There was a little bit of pressure to dance in front of Yeji and Felix, but as Yunho reached for your wrist and pulled your arm around him, you focused on him and the movements of your bodies.

At the last part you knew, you stopped dancing and looked to the others expectantly.

Hyunjin looked very pleased and clapped his hands. “It looks good, like you actually know the steps and aren’t struggling to remember.”

Your attention then went to Yeji and Felix. Though Felix saw some of it earlier, it was clear he hadn’t expected it to get so sexy. You could see it in Yeji’s eyes that she understood why you freaked out to her yesterday.

“Well,” Felix started. “I can see why you no longer want Changbin to fill in.”

Yunho and Hyunjin laughed, and even dared to look a little shy, since they were the ones who came up with the dance.

Felix looked to Hyunjin. “Can you do it for us, too?”

Anxiety was back. It’s just a job. Exhaling, you were ready and did the same moves with Hyunjin. Being so close and touching in certain ways brought the butterflies back to your stomach, but you ignored them and just pushed through the steps until you were out of moves.

“Huh,” Felix scratched his head.

All eyes were on him.

“What?” Hyunjin brushed his hair back.

“When dancing with Yunho,” Felix was talking directly to you, “you seemed more relaxed. When dancing with Hyunjin, it seems like you’re holding back, like you’re scared to let go.”

Well fuck. That’s why it felt like you could finally breathe when dancing with Yunho; you were holding back with Hyunjin.

“It’s probably just because of your relationship with Yunho,” Felix continued. “You probably didn’t even realize you were doing it.”

You weren’t sure of what to say.

“Ah, you’re probably right,” Yunho spoke up. He was smiling and didn’t look at all bothered. “Baby, come here for a second.”

Yunho pulled you into a corner away from the others and spoke so only you could hear. “You’re holding back because of last night, right?”

Exhaling, you nodded.

He rubbed your shoulder. “You’re still my girl, right?”

You nodded again.

“You don’t have to hold back. It’s a few days and it’s over. I trust you. You can trust yourself too, right?”

The problem was, yourself was telling you that you might have feelings for both of them and want a relationship with both of them and them with each other.

Yunho kissed your forehead and pulled you back to the others.

“Felix, you and I should head over to the other studio for our class.” Yunho then bowed his head towards Hyunjin. “You two, good luck practicing. Yeji,” he turned on his heel, “nice seeing you.”

Yeji, Hyunjin, and you all waved good-byes to them as they left, then Yeji turned sharply towards Hyunjin. “Hyunnie, could you get me a bottle of water?”

He huffed at Yeji. “Felix asked you when we came in if you wanted anything and you declined.”

“Well I wasn’t thirsty then and I am now.” She lifted her casted leg. “Are you really going to make me go and get it?”

Sighing in defeat, he brushed his hands through his hair.

Yeji quickly dug through her bag then threw her wallet at him. “You should get some drinks for y’all, too.”

“Fine,” he waved her off then left the room.

When he was surely out of earshot, Yeji turned to you. “Holy shit!”

“I know,” you nodded.

“When you came to me yesterday, I thought maybe there was some exaggeration, but this!”

“Yup,” you nodded again.

“We should’ve drank more,” she shook her head. She looked you over carefully. “How are you doing with all this? Did you talk to Yunho?”

“Not doing as well as I thought according to Felix’s assessment. But yeah, we kinda talked.”

“Kinda?”

“Polyamory never came up, and when I remembered to bring it up, it no longer seemed like the right time to talk about it.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah,” you played with your fingers as you agreed.

“Can I ask what he said to you just now?”

“He knows I’m purposely holding back. He told me to think of this as a job, which I’ve been doing, but to relax, and let go of the fears I’m having. At the end of the day, I’m his girl and to just remember that.”

“Woof,” she pulled her face.

Sighing, you couldn’t help but pace. “I know.”

“He is right though. Thinking of it as a job is smart. It is a job, just like acting or being a musician.”

You just nodded as you agreed with her.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Like what?”

She shook her head. “Truthfully, I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?” Hyunjin walked back in holding three bottles of water and Yeji’s wallet.

“Do you mind going back out for like two minutes?” Yeji glared at him.

“Why?” He looked between the two of you. “What are you talking about?”

Continuing to glare, Yeji straightened in her seat. “Girl talk.”

“Girl talk?” A smirk formed on his lips.

You were at a loss of words. You knew he knew something was up, but you yourself weren’t really sure what it was or how to explain it.

“I have a crush on Changbin and we’re discussing it. So can we have two fucking minutes or what?”

Both yours and Hyunjin’s mouth fell open. Hyunjin’s opened and closed like a fish for a few seconds, then he quickly turned and left again.

Staring at Yeji in surprise, you shook your head as you tried to recover. “Thank you for not outing me. I’m sorry you outed yourself.”

She waved her hand. “If Hyun says anything, it could be a nudge that dumbass needs to finally make a move.” Her gaze was now serious. “What do you need from me?”

Sighing, you shook your head. “I guess, just be honest with what you see. You’re here to help with the routine, right? Tell me when I’m being stiff, or doing something wrong. Help me to help him with the audition. Anything else, I guess we’ll just deal with it when we come across it.”

“Okay,” she nodded. After you both took a deep breath, she called out to Hyunjin.

He came in looking a little awkward, but didn’t say anything as he handed you both water bottles.

“So, back to learning the routine?” You smiled.

Exhaling and looking grateful, Hyunjin took you to the middle of the floor.

You went over all of what you knew one more time for Yeji.

As you were learning new steps to the dance, she didn’t hold back to tell you and Hyunjin about her opinions. As she watched the two of you, she decided at some points to get up and hobble to you, repositioning the movements or explaining how certain actions should feel to give a specific look. She made Hyunjin sit and watch as she showed you how to play with your hair or move your arms for some steps, and facial expressions to use at others. She also gave some critique to Hyunjin, which was comforting in that it wasn’t just you who needed help.

Before long it was dinner time. Yunho brought food for all of you. Instead of going to the instructor offices you all ate at the edge of the room where Yeji was sitting.

A little while after, Changbin came to collect Yeji and take her back to her dorm. It was clear he was hurt as he avoided eye contact with you or Hyunjin. You’d have to make him cookies or something when you apologized to him.

Out of habit, when you were all finished eating, you started cleaning up plates. Hyunjin followed and wrapped up any leftovers while Yunho ran to the offices for wet-wipes to clean any crumbs left on the floor.

Yunho asked Hyunjin if he wanted to continue practicing, but Hyunjin explained he had other classwork he’d been neglecting.

The three of you parted. You’d been thankful he declined. Dancing and catering were two different animals and your body was still trying to get used to it. There were new places where you were sore, including your feet, and overall, you just felt really exhausted.

The next morning, Yunho had a little time before he had promised to go to the theater to help start preparations and watch performances for the senior showcase. He stretched with you and Hyunjin. The three of you went over the parts of the routine so far. Yunho stood behind you, his hands holding your hips as you moved. When you spun against Hyunjin, you were facing Yunho, and he continued to step with you.

You expected to feel stressed, dancing with Yunho as he knew you were feeling some kind of way for Hyunjin. But you didn’t. It was comfortable with both of them. There wasn’t any tension. Even though Yunho knew about the sex daydream, you didn’t sense any jealousy coming from him as Hyunjin touched you and held you in his arms while dancing. You weren’t sure of Hyunjin’s feelings, but he also seemed relaxed with Yunho there.

Soon, Yunho had to head out, leaving Hyunjin to finish teaching you the dance. He wanted to try a lift in the routine, but it made you nervous, once again feeling too heavy for that. He then suggested ending the dance in more of the ballroom fashion, holding you at a deep angle for a long dip.

The first attempt in trying it, despite his hand on your back, you felt like you were falling, let out a shriek, and grappled at his shoulders. Your reaction made him laugh, and then your embarrassment made you laugh.

“Why are you so afraid of falling?”

“What do you mean?”

“Our first dance, when you were sitting on my leg and we started spinning, you stuck to me like glue because you were scared you were going to fall. Same thing just now.”

“I don’t know.” You tucked loose hair behind your ear. “I just don’t like the feeling, I guess. Have you ever fallen in front of people?”

“In dance, of course.”

“What about falling in front of strangers?”

Hyunjin mulled it over but didn’t answer.

“I was pretty clumsy when I was younger. I fell down stairs and tripped going up them. I stumbled on uneven sidewalks. I’ve slipped on ice in winter while walking on the sidewalk. It’s unnerving to even fall, but then to have people witness it; to see them stare and smile or laugh, with maybe one person out of a group of many to check if you’re okay. I hate that feeling. Then of course if they’re related to you or pretending to be your friend, they constantly tease you about it.”

Any trace of a smile was gone from his face. “I’m sorry they made you feel like that.” Hyunjin mimicked a move from the routine as his hand traced the frame of your hair then cupped your cheek. “I won’t ever let you fall.”

The two of you stared at each other. You believed him; as long as you were in his arms, he’d keep you from looking like a fool.

There was that comfort again. Even without Yunho, you liked being around Hyunjin. And that’s when the pang of feeling more for him came back to you.

Suddenly realizing where his hands were, Hyunjin stepped back and cleared his throat. “So, this is why you never danced before?”

Looking at the floor and away from him, you nodded. “It’s the perfect breeding ground to trip and fall on your ass.”

Smiling, he straightened his stance. “Well, since we’ve established that I won’t let that happen, do you want to try the dip again?”

He talked you through the movements slowly first to go over what was happening. The next attempt at the dip, he only dropped you halfway. After checking how you felt and if you were ready to go lower, you started the step over, ending in the full drop. After practicing it a few times, you felt assured that his hold was secure and you could do it.

Finally, you’d finished learning the whole of the routine. Now you had to make sure you really knew it and to fine-tune it.

“Remember,” Hyunjin walked over to the stereo system to start the music. “Not just the steps. You need to feel the music.”

Feeling this music to this song and dance was a little different than doing the line dances. Sure, the line dances had a set formula of movement, but there were certain liberties that could be taken. With Hyunjin’s structured routine, there was less room to make it your own.

It sometimes got confusing to feel the music and follow the steps, which caused you to make mistakes and blunders. Unlike the first day dancing, Hyunjin didn’t get frustrated with you. He gave you suggestions and helped you run through the movements again. His new softness pulled on your heart. It’s just a job.

You both danced through the routine a few times with the music and without stopping. In the middle of dancing, another dance student walked in the spare studio.

“Hey guys, sorry to bother.” From their expression it was clear they bothered Hyunjin previously and it didn’t end so well. “The main studio is filled with people setting up for their final routines or the senior showcase. Would it be okay if a few of us took up a corner of the room?”

Peering from the doorway were quite a few students who needed a dance space.

Hyunjin looked down at his watch. “Damn, it’s past three.” He looked back to you. We missed lunch. Are you hungry?”

Not having eaten since around 8:00, you were definitely ready for food and nodded.

“The whole studio is yours,” he said to the other students.

They all looked relieved and piled in as the two of you left.

“The dining hall is closed after 1:30,” you exhaled as you walked outside.

“I have some ramen in the art studio, if that’s okay.”

“Sure.” You didn’t particularly care about ramen, having lived on the ramen diet more than a few times when you and Yunho were first starting out, but you were curious to see more of Hyunjin’s art.

Where the dance building was up a hill, the art building was down one. The studio room he took you to was on the first floor, but the building was set into the hill, giving you a dropped off view from the full wall of windows.

“Wow,” was all you could think as you walked towards the glass.

“Yeah. Natural light is better than the florescent lights when you’re working on art. So, this entire side of the building is one giant window.”

The view from the window showed a little bit of the lake and other surrounding buildings of the school.

“Explains why the price of food is so much in the dining hall.”

When you didn’t hear Hyunjin with a response, you turned to see his eyebrows scrunched together, not understanding your train of thought.

You smiled. “Tuition must be expensive as hell to pay for the upkeep of all the stuff this school has.”

“Ah,” he smiled back. “Yeah. Lucky for me, I got some scholarships.” He banged around a few cabinets and shuffled through some art supplies until he found where he stored his bowls of ramen.

There was a water dispenser in the corner. He opened each ramen bowl then filled them with hot water, setting them on the table and covering each with the thin paper lid.

“Should be a few minutes,” he said, coming to stand next to you.

You’d started looking at all the art in the room. You found the piece he was painting of the lake. There were several still lifes of flowers, some in vases, others just existing in space. Some of the art were side profiles of people and some were faces. The colors were always different and drastic, but all the edges were the same abstract, cloudy looking finish.

“Are all of these yours?”

“Yeah,” he gave a shy smile and ran his fingers though his hair.

Looking them over to take in more details, you couldn’t help yourself from exhaling another, “wow.”

“Thank you.” His voice was small. “It’s all for my senior portfolio. It will be displayed in a campus gallery until the end of summer.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you stared at him. “You’re so talented, Hyunjin. In dance and art, it doesn’t matter what you choose to do, it’s going to be amazing.”

He had no reply, but just gazed back at you.

There was a large, tall empty canvas against the wall. “Any plans for this?”

A smile formed on his lips. “Well, ideally, I’d like to go a little Yves Klein on it. I just haven’t had the time or motivation for it.”

You’d never heard of Yves Klein, and he could see it in your eyes.

“Yves Klein is known for using naked woman and painting the front of their bodies, then pressing them against the canvas.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “What, no volunteers?”

He laughed a little. “In truth, you’re the first person I’ve told about it.”

Looking at the canvas, you started to imagine what it might look like. Were there models at the school he could use? What shape would their body be? If Yves Klein was the inspiration, would he actually paint a person, or just make the imprint by hand?

“Ramen’s ready.”

Neither of you realized just how hungry you were until that moment. Dancing had really taken up the better part of your thoughts. The two of you practically inhaled the ramen, despite the hot broth.

Taking a moment to breath, you looked at Hyunjin. “So, what’s the game plan for the rest of the day, Captain?”

“I guess see how full the studio is. We might have to find another place to practice. I just want to be sure we both feel good about the steps and following the music. Tomorrow can be a bit of a dress rehearsal. Yeji said she’d come and help us for the day.”

“Dress rehearsal?”

“Yeah. Wear what we’ll wear for the audition, see if it messes with any of the movements, fix things from there.”

You didn’t realize you’d need something to wear. In movies like Flashdance and Save the Last Dance, Alex and Sarah just wore a leotard and some kind of sweat-wear. What did you even have to wear for an audition? Could you just wear whatever Yunho had laying around?

Realization washed over Hyunjin. “Of course you don’t have any dance clothes.” Shaking his head he mumbled an apology. A smirk then formed on his lips. “But, I have an idea.” He motioned to your mostly empty ramen bowl. “Finished?”

When you nodded, he cleaned up your meals, then the two of you left heading to a building you’d not been to yet. It was close to a main road and to the dining hall. Walking in, on the left side of a hall were three rows of wide doors. It was an auditorium. Inside, it was crowded with dance and music students, and a few professors and instructors. There were theater crew high up fixing light fixtures or moving them to face areas on the stage. Others were painting sets. You saw Yunho and Seonghwa talking on stage with a student about their routine you assumed.

Hyunjin led you past all of it to a door going out of the theater and into a hallway behind the stage. Music was playing from an open doorway. As you walked in, you were surrounded by various colored fabrics every which way. Any table and countertop were buried under them, unless there was a sewing machine on the table. Then it had some space, but just barely.

“Wooyoung, you in here?”

A head popped out behind a rack of hanging outfits.

“Hyunjin! I half expected to see you sooner.” He walked towards you both, a swatch of pink sequined fabric in his hands. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened with Yeji and your audition. Though rumor has it you got yourself a new dance partner.”

“That would be me,” you lifted your hand and gave a small smile.

“Ah,” he mirrored your grin, set down everything he was holding, and offered you his hand to shake. “Wooyoung.”

Taking his hand, you shared your name with him.

“The audition is in two days, and she doesn’t have anything to wear. Think you can help us out?” Hyunjin gave him his most pathetic looking expression.

Wooyoung had definitely seen it before and wasn’t having any of it. “You’re coming to me the week of senior showcases for both dance and theater kids, and you think I have time to whip up costumes for you?”

“I’m good on my costume. And it doesn’t have to be something new, just something no one else is using.”

He narrowed his eyes as he stared at Hyunjin. Then his face softened with a playful smile. “Yeah, alright.” Grabbing your wrist Wooyoung pulled you with him behind another clothing rack. “What do you have in mind?” he yelled to Hyunjin.

“There are a few spins, so it might look nice if there was a skirt or dress that fanned out.”

Looking you over for your size, Wooyoung moved to another clothing rack then flipped through hangers until finding a very pink dress. He held it above the rack for Hyunjin to see the color.

“Yeah, that should be fine. I’m just in black and white.”

“Alright,” he handed the dress to you. “Let’s try it on.”

“Okay. Where are the dressing rooms?”

“There aren’t any, just put it on here.”

A blush filled your cheeks.

“Please, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”

“Come on, dude.” Hyunjin grabbed Wooyoung and pulled him away from the racks. “Just give her some privacy.”

When it was just you and the clothing, you quickly slipped out of your t-shirt and shorts and pulled the dress overhead. The low cut of it allowed your sports bra to stick out, but there was no way you were taking that off.

“Okay,” you said when you were finished.

Looking a little sheepish, Wooyoung walked back towards you, then came at you with pins. He folded and pinned the dress until it fit perfectly on you. “You can’t wear a bra with this.”

“What?” you panicked.

“Don’t worry.” He reached in front of the dress and showed you a white line of material. This will stick to your skin and stay in place. And by the time I’m done with it, everything should be fitting snuggly anyway.” He continued pinning and fitting the dress to your size. “Alright, this should do it.” He looked over to Hyunjin. “Do you need it right away or do I have time to fuss with it?”

“Sooner would be better.”

Wooyoung sighed. “You’re gonna owe me one, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin smiled and thanked him. He then led the two of you back outside. It hadn’t been too long since other students asked for the studio, so it was safe to assume it was still occupied.

You remembered when you were exploring the campus that there was a gazebo big enough to hold several musicians. Maybe it could work for just two of you to dance.

Pointing it out to Hyunjin, it was easy to see from across the lawn, and it looked empty. Smiling at the idea, Hyunjin agreed and you trekked to the open space.

Once in the gazebo, Hyunjin placed his phone on a bench inside, and had it so the speaker was against the wooden frame so it might echo louder.

Setting up the dance, new butterflies of excitement coursed through your veins. It was different from dancing in the studio where you knew you were completely alone. Here, it was out in the open. Anyone could see you. With how sensual the routine was, the chance of people seeing it made it feel risky, like if you were having sex in public.

Aware of this, as the music began and Hyunjin lifted your arm around his neck, goosebumps rose as Hyunjin’s hand brushed down your arm and past your tummy. When he spun you out, you felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. Coming back into his embrace, you felt confident. Your mantra was still in the back of your mind, but you were also supposed to feel the music. Yunho said he trusted you. It would be better for everyone if you just gave into it, right?

You’d done these moves dozens of times. But this time, as you pressed against Hyunjin, felt him caress you to the beat, it seemed different. You fed off this new energy until you were at the end and needed to prepare for the ending drop. Looking into his eyes to find the trust in each other before letting go, there was something else in his stare.

You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you recognized it; desire. Caught up in looking in his eyes, you forgot about the drop until it happened. Your small yelp caused Hyunjin to quickly lift you up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I got lost in the moment and then forgot about the drop.”

He chuckled. “I see.” Resting his hands on his hips he took a deep breath. “Well, other than the dip, this was probably the best we’ve done the routine so far.”

“Maybe it’s being outside. Being with nature.” You knew that wasn’t entirely true, but you weren’t going to admit anything to him.

“Yeah, maybe. Should we go again?”

The two of you danced and danced until you were both covered in sweat and panting.

The sun was beginning to set.

“Well, whatever this energy is, I hope we can keep it for the audition.” Hyunjin wiped his brow with the bottom of his shirt.

The audition. That suddenly made you feel nervous. You’d almost forgotten you were supposed to dance in front of others so Hyunjin could get into their company. Other than learning the routine, it wasn’t a main focus for you. You were too busy trying to learn everything, keep your posture correct, and not think about the mess of feelings you were having.

“Why don’t we call it a night? Hopefully Wooyoung will have the dress ready by morning and tomorrow we will make sure everything is perfect.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

He reached for your shoulder. “Get some rest. Eat yummy food.” He smiled and slowly let his hand slide down your shoulder and then arm.

Your nerves were starting to get the better of you, but you nodded again. “You too. See you tomorrow.”

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