#endeavour: ride
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It’s SNARKY LITTLE SHIT SATURDAY!
I haven’t posted one of these in a bit.
Clearly, Teenage Morse does not care for magic.
He wants to get on with it, after his multiple-months hiatus chopping wood, lakeside, drinking and doing God knows what else. He wants to avenge his friend’s death, find the heroin…& all Fred wants to do is hang out with the carny folk.
#endeavour morse#itv endeavour#endeavour itv#shaun evans#epic acting#roger allam#fred thursday#endeavour: ride#joss bixby#Morse hates magic#beloved little snark monster#snarky little shit saturday#snarktastic
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The Classical Music of Ride, Part I: Mozart’s Requiem
You can’t trust anything or anyone in Ride. People aren’t who they seem to be. Every action, every event is just a cover for something else.
Is Morse one of the idle rich? An Oxford drop-out? A taxi-driver's son from Lincolnshire? A man who’s just finished a prison sentence? A policeman?
Long post....
Is Bixby the filthy rich head of a gambling empire? Is he just a front for Harry Rose’s criminal empire? Is he Charlie Greel looking to win back Cathy or Joss Bixby looking to seduce Kay? Is he even himself or is he his hidden, evil twin Conrad?
Are the denizens of Lake Silence really Morse’s friends—sheltering him after the storm of Blenheim Vale and prison? Or are they a bunch of dysfunctional philanderers and addicts? Even worse, are they suspects? Criminals?
Using Mozart’s Requiem in this episode must have absolutely delighted the music staff because while a great part of its fame and mystique rests on the sheer accumulation of stories and legends that have grown up around it, almost none of those tales can be proven—and all of them have been challenged at some point. You really don't know what's real and what's not—right down to the music itself.
Was the anonymous “stranger cloaked in gray” who gave him the commission the only sponsor Mozart ever saw? Or did he at some point become aware that the Count, Franz von Walsegg, was paying for the work? Some people today are shocked to hear that Walsegg planned to pass off the Requiem as his own work—as a tribute composed in memory of his dead wife—but that was a fairly common practice for the aristocracy of the time. It was considered slightly shady, but the proper thing to do was to just politely nod and go along with it.
Did Mozart, his mind disturbed by illness in his final days, truly come to believe that he had been poisoned and that he was writing the requiem mass for his own funeral? Or was that tantalizingly dramatic detail added by his widow Constanze to drive up sales of the score after the his death? The couple was catastrophically bad at managing money and when her husband died, the widowed Constanze was left with massive debts and two small children. She needed to maximize any possible source of revenue.
Her story certainly captured the public imagination. Pushkin took that little tidbit about writing his own funeral mass and wrote a very short but thought-provoking play in which he cast Mozart’s contemporary Salieri as the envious poisoner and Mozart himself as a childish, spoiled, and petty genius. Peter Shaffer later adapted Pushkin’s work into the play, and later film, Amadeus. A surprising number of people today believe Amadeus to be not the work of imaginative fiction that it is, but rather a completely factual story of Mozart’s life and death.
Mozart worked on the Requiem up to the day he died at the age of only 35. It was the last piece he worked on. Most scholars believe the manuscript we have contains not only the last music he ever composed but possibly the last words he ever wrote.
As far as authorship is concerned, we know for certain that Mozart himself completed “in skeleton” the Introit, the Kyrie, and almost all of the Sequentia (Dies irae, Tuba mirum, Rex tremendae, Recordare, Confutatis). The last portion of the Sequentia, the Lacrimosa, was completed was the up through the first 8 bars.
The last words that he actually wrote were "Quam olim da capo” — which instructed the musicians to repeat the "Quam olim" fugue of the Domine Jesu from the beginning. In yet another mysterious twist to the story of the Requiem, these actual last words were stolen—quite literally by tearing them from the manuscript—while the score was displayed at the 1958 World’s Fair in Brussels. They are still missing.
We are certain about the authorship of parts because we have the autograph manuscripts—the music in Mozart’s very own hand. The big question, however, has always been, how much the the rest of the Requiem can we consider his? The parts that were completed “in skeleton” basically had all of the “important” notes in place. Things missing include details like doubled parts that could fairly easily be extrapolated from what he had written.
In order for Constanze to receive her money from Walsegg, however, she needed to make it appear that Mozart had completed the work entirely or almost entirely himself before his death. Not only would this ensure full payment from Walsegg, it would also promote sales of the score to the public later. A work written by Mozart alone would far out-sell a work written by Mozart and “Mr. Competent-But-Lesser-Known-Composer.”
Today we know that at least two of Mozart’s students were involved in finishing the piece, with the majority of the work being done by Franz Süssmayr. What we don’t know, however, is how much of the completed work is purely theirs and how much came from Mozart’s notes and verbal instructions.
Some versions of the story indicate that Mozart gave detailed deathbed instructions and left many “little scraps” of paper with details of how to complete the composition. Other versions claim that this talk of “little scraps” is simply more of Constanze’s effort to maximize Mozart’s contributions and minimize those of others.
Regardless, we know that the completed Requiem was eventually sent (with Mozart’s counterfeited signature!) to Count Walsegg and dated 1792—which is rather odd in retrospect given that it was well-known that Mozart had died on 5 December 1791. It's always been yet another mystery.
The two excerpts used in Ride are the Lacrimosa, during the opening titles and establishing scenes, and the Confutatis, which Morse is listening to on his record player as he splits wood outside the lakeside dacha.
The Latin text of the first reads:
Lacrimosa dies illa, Qua resurget ex favílla Iudicandus homo reus: Huic ergo parce, Deus:
The equivalent translation (i.e. not the one used at mass, but a more literal translation) is:
Tearful [will be] that day, on which from the glowing embers will arise the guilty man who is to be judged: Then spare him, O God.
So Ride starts with tears and guilt.
I’ve always found it interesting that this text doesn’t even try to claim innocence, instead it very clearly asks that the guilty be shown mercy.
The Latin text of the second reads:
Confutatis maledictis, Flammis acribus addictis, Voca me cum benedictis.
The equivalent translation is:
Once the cursed have been silenced, sentenced to acrid flames, Call me, with the blessed.
This text always strikes me as coming almost from a child’s point of view. Basically one interpretation is, “Come and get me once you’ve taken care of all the bad guys.” I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions as to how that might apply to Morse post-Blenheim Vale and prison.
Next week: The Classical Music of Ride, Part II: Rigoletto or “Why keeping a person’s entire existence a secret leads to Bad Things.”
Special Bonus Section!!!
Parts of Mozart’s Requiem used in Endeavour:
Dies irae: completed by Mozart in skeleton* S4E4: Harvest (~2 min) (~3 min)
Rex tremendae: completed by Mozart in skeleton* S9E3: Exeunt(~1 h 11 min)(~1 h 11 min)
Confutatis: completed by Mozart in skeleton* S3E1: Ride (~5 min)
Lacrimosa: completed by Mozart in skeleton* through measure no. 8 S2E3: Sway (~0 min)(~1 hr 24 min); S3:E1 Ride (~1 min)
Lux aeterna: Not in Mozart’s MS; however Süssmayr reuses the Requiem aeternam written by Mozart almost note-for-note with just the different text S9E3: Exeunt (~31 min)
*skeleton: means full vocal and continuo parts, notes for prominent orchestral parts and musical bridges
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For Tux Tuesday I offer to you a fine set of practically vintage Ride gifs from @brianmight.
This is such a great scene.
━ It’s over. ━ Not for me.
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Before the year ends, I just wanted to thank you all for all the support this year!!! I basically went from zero to so much so I appreciate all of you (ʃƪ^ ᵕ^) ❤️.
#artist on tumblr#it's been a wild ride this year#I can't believe I actually managed to get this far#i know you guys are literally just here for LMK content but it still means a lot XDDDD#i hope some of you will stick around for some future endeavours
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It’s Tux Tuesday! Or, technically, can we call it a Schrödinger’s Tux Tuesday? For all intents and purposes, you really only have my word for it that there was in fact a complete tux here. 
This is more of a “look at the dreamy man bathed in the dreamy lighting talking to the other dreamy man with a lot of, uh, ambiguous electrical something energy in the air” post.
I mean, he’s technically in a tux, but fuck it because that face, amirite?
This is right at the end of the scene. The first few photographs are “I’ve seen enough death“, and the second to last are the little painful/regretful swallow and smile, and “anything‘s possible”.
The very last few are “I jumped in the lake in my tux and still haven’t removed my shirt or pants”because grief and hotness.
#itv endeavour#endeavour morse#shaun evans#epic acting#endeavour itv#emotional overload#hot damn evans#curly haired morse is the best morse except for all other morses#david oakes#joss bixby#anything’s possible#endeavour: ride#season three hair#I’ve seen enough death#Morse and Bixby#the great bixby#tux tuesday#tux tuesdays#endeavouredit
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I wish I could write long fics reliably I have many ideas. Currently one of such ideas is vague thoughts of a story focused on UNIT, exploring their dynamic, giving everyone little character arcs, digging into Jo's underlying Issues especially. It would be so fun.
Unfortunately I do not have a solid plot (plots are so HARD 😭) nor the confidence that I will work at it enough to finish it
#wren rambles#writing#classic doctor who#third doctor#unit family#i MISS posting long stories and having people tune in to each chapter#i MISS posting regularly and bringing people along for the ride#maybe when i move out again I shall refind that energy#i gotta finish my star wars fic as well aaugh#and have some endeavour ideas#me when i relearn how to write like im 15#OH i also had an idea of a longfic focuses on Adric#post-earthshock#learning how to live again or some such theme#PLEASE feel free to talk to me about any of these stories!
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Here for it. Or is that, here foir it?
#are you falling in love with me? men do.#I can see how that might happen#itv endeavour#luck of the draw old man#endeavour morse#endeavour: ride#ride noir#you live in the shadows long enough... you forget the sunlight.#shaun evans#season 3 hair#endeavour season 3#and what’s the truth of you?#Who’s the realJoss Bixby?#are you one of the idle rich? idle certainly#of course you can old man
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Morse winning a tiger plushie at the fair for that lady in Ride...I believe this is what lit professors call foreshadowing....
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harmony ; 3racha x reader ; one-shot
masterlist.
porn without plot. you want to have some fun and you know exactly which boyfriend can help get it started.
pairing: 3racha/reader content info: sub!reader, dom!changbin, dom!chan, switch!jisung, polyamorous mmfm foursome (so they’re all involved with each other and interact with each other), very enthusiastic consent with an implied red/yellow/green light system (yellow is employed once). some rough play (esp with changbin), cnc game that reader initiates, face-slapping, choking, dirty talk, pussy eating, double penetration, blow job, all three holes at once, multiple orgasms, jisung having a monster dick for no reason, aftercare. (technically no mention of birth control but it’s a long established relationship and you can safely assume it’s taken care of.)
word count: 5255 words.
enjoy <3
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When you want to play – really play – you know where to go.
Jisung can be an overthinker and Chan is always protective, so they hesitate before getting too rough with you. Changbin, however, never holds back. You know how to touch him, how to smile that particularly provocative smile, how to bat your eyelashes and invite him to play.
You are thinking about it when he returns from his work-out, muscles straining in his black tank shirt, body damp with sweat, and looking like pure, unadulterated sex. Chan and Jisung are huddled around a laptop in the living room, their entrepreneurial endeavours a seemingly endless chore, and they are so engrossed in their work they don’t see you leave.
You sneak off to your room to change, ditching your shorts and underclothes, slipping into one of Changbin’s old t-shirts and absolutely nothing else.
You intend to hunt him down after his shower, but it’s Changbin who comes to you. He ambles casually into your bedroom without knocking, comfortable and relaxed and at home. You have your own rooms for personal space but you all come and go as you please.
Your room is dimly lit with strings of fairy lights, the bed crowded with pillows and teddy bears, not to mention a big strong boyfriend who makes himself at home. Changbin is dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt, his hair blow-dried soft and fluffy, but body as bulky and powerful as ever.
“Look at this,” he says, holding out his phone. A sweater you were eyeing has gone on sale so he sits on your bed and buys it for you without hesitation. He giggles to himself with all that self-satisfied delight, teasing that he is the best boyfriend and your number one favourite.
He knows the truest harmony lies among the four of you, together, always, but he likes to tease.
You like to tease back.
“Be careful, you big bully,” you say, because he plops himself down at the head of the bed, knocking a teddy bear over. You pick it up and aggressively shove it back into place.
He quirks an eyebrow, his giggling joviality replaced with a studious expression. He seems to finally notice what you are wearing, blinking his gaze up and down your body as you rearrange the pillows behind him.
You bat your eyelashes, all playful innocence.
“Don’t be so serious,” he says. He deliberately knocks a teddy onto the floor.
You playfully gasp, bending over with a flourish and flashing him.
“Ah,” he says, putting his phone on your bedside table. “It’s like that?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, blinking.
“Hm,” he says, giving you another quick once-over. “Okay.”
Changbin hauls you over his shoulder and wrestles you onto the bed. He puts you on your back, upside down so your head is near the foot. He climbs right on top of you, not an inch of muscle budging even when you thud your fists against his firm chest.
“Binnie,” you say, wriggling underneath him, the t-shirt riding up your thighs. “You’re crushing me, you big mean brute.”
“Brute,” he says, laughing. He grabs your hips and pins you to the mattress. “Tsk. You like it like that.”
“No, I – ah!”
Changbin never hesitates. He knows you will tell him if you don’t like something. It’s a game of trust, full of an all encompassing love that boasts such tender affection beneath each action. Being with Changbin is like being nestled in blankets by a warm fire on a snowy winter’s day. You are sheltered in the storm, feeling that protection even more keenly because of the dangerous cold.
Between you, there is nothing but heat.
He gathers the hem of the t-shirt and shoves it up, past the skin of your tummy, exposing your thighs and all the bare softness between them. Oh, yes, all softness against his hard body, the thickness of his biceps as he holds you down, his big thighs shoved between your open legs, broad shoulders relentless and ungiving even where you smack him repeatedly.
“Binnie, be careful,” you say, trying to close your legs around his hips.
You gasp when he puts a hand up your shirt, squeezing your breast in the cup of his palm. His mean fingers immediately find the stiffening peak, thumb tormenting you while you whine.
You buck as if you want to throw him off, but he is right where you want him and he knows it. He knows you, your body like a well-loved instrument, his strong hands drawing every musical gasp and sigh out of you.
“Where’s your panties, hm?” he asks. Undeterred by your continuous bucking and writhing, he slides his hands down to your naked hips. He was slouched half-on top of you but he gets up on his knees now. He pushes your thighs apart, forcing his hips between them.
“Shameful,” he says. He tries to grab your flailing hands to no avail. You smack his chest and shoulders, dodging the reach of his fingers.
He smacks your face, a tap hard enough to register the game has really begun, but not so hard to sting for long. You still gasp, your hands pausing. It gives him time to work a hand between your open thighs.
“Ahh—!”
“Yah, look at you,” he says, rubbing his fingers through your wet pussy without finesse or gentleness. You twitch every time his knuckle rides over your clit. “Bad girl,” he says. “Who are you so wet for?”
He gives you no time to answer, scooting back to drag you to the middle of the bed. You are still upside down, your pillows and teddies piled behind him, all the dreaminess of your girly lace bedroom in contrast to his stark masculinity. It makes your whole body thrum with arousal, hot from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. You feel him even where he is not touching you.
Where he is touching you, you burn, heart erratic with anticipation as he squeezes your thighs, as he shoves your hands out of his way, as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze.
“Ah – Binnie—!” You get louder. Your bedroom door is open. Chan and Jisung might be focussed on their work, but not for long, not if you keep this up. Still, to speed things along, you scream, “Chan! Channie! Ch—hmmph!”
Changbin shoves a pillow in your face, holding it there, smothering you to soften your shrieks. His other hand is on your thigh – no, slipping higher, a surface touch through all that wet desire. Then his blunt fingers are inside you. You moan into the pillow, clenching around the thrust of his fingers. You get dizzy quickly, partially because of the pillow, partially his skilled hand.
He abruptly lifts the pillow. The oxygen goes straight to your head, as intoxicating as a kiss. You realize you are close to coming already, hiccupping with all that sudden breath as he fucks his fingers into you.
Changbin is relentless. You smack his chest but he ignores it, his strong arm keeping a steady momentum. An orgasm builds and builds, your fingers hooking into his t-shirt for some leverage. He puts a hand on your belly and holds you down. He feels so strong and heavy, utterly unmovable, and it makes falling apart so much easier.
“Didn’t you have something to say to Chan?” he says.
You gasp and turn your head. Sure enough, Chan is standing there, watching you. Changbin does it on purpose, knowing when you are close, so you look at Chan just as the orgasm crests.
Chan is standing beside the bed, dressed in his basketball shorts and a sleeveless black shirt, a baseball cap over his curly dark hair. He must have entered the room while the pillow was on your face, and now he is standing there, watching Changbin hold you down and fuck you with his hand.
“Channie, please—” you say, then you come all over Changbin’s fingers. You cry out because he keeps tormenting you, thumb shaking back-and-forth across your throbbing clit. “Ah, Binnie—Channie, please!”
Chan gives Changbin a look, his eyebrow quirked, then he just leans towards the open door and whistles. It’s a sharp, high whistle, a call to attention.
“Han,” he says, not even very loud. Chan never needs to shove or force or yell. When Chan says come, you come.
You always obey Chan. You throw your head back, gasping as you come a second time. It is so soon after the first orgasm that it feels like one long, rolling wave. It continues to shudder through you, even after Changbin slips his hand out.
The shirt is still shoved up your tummy, soft skin and wet pussy on display. Chan does not look away, reaching blindly behind himself for your desk chair. He yanks it closer to the bed and plops down, taking off his cap and tossing it on the floor. He is bare-faced, expression so open and honest, but a hunger in his eyes that darkens his whole face.
Changbin just looks giddy. You look at him as he giggles, that funny little chortle leaving that buff body. Then you realize he is rolling his sweatpants down.
“Channie!” you yelp, shrieking and twisting while Changbin licks his palm and strokes his cock, his other hand effortlessly holding you down.
Chan slouches in the chair. He props an elbow on the arm-rest and puts his chin in his palm. His other hand slips under the waistband of his shorts.
“Careful, baby,” Chan says, seconds before Changbin smacks you again. It is within your limit, but still enough to turn your head on impact.
Like before, it breaks your concentration, and Changbin takes the opportunity to grab your hips, line up, and shove his cock inside you. Chan and Jisung always give you a minute to adjust, the size of a hard cock definitely different from fingers, but Changbin never waits. Even while you wince and complain, he fucks you through it, gripping your hips hard and ignoring your hands pushing against his chest.
“Too much, Binnie,” you say, even though the sting is quickly passing. You’re so wet and it makes it easy for him to fuck you. It even sounds messy, every thrust opening you up, getting you even wetter, the bed creaking as he pulls you onto his cock over and over.
You look over at Chan who is still watching, the shape of his hand and his dick so clear through the material of his shorts as he fists his cock slowly.
You hiccup as Changbin switches from long, deep strokes to short, pounding ones.
At which point Jisung finally walks in, yapping about work, saying, “I was thinking we could postpone the meeting to Monday and—oh, hi, WHAAAT, we’re having sex in here? All right, man, okay, that’s cool, all right, what’s up.”
Oh, your sweet Jisung. He is also in house clothes, black shorts and a sleeveless white shirt, dark hair feathering through his fingers as he runs his hand through it. He walks further into the room, kicking the door closed behind himself for no reason. His attention is firmly fixed on you, holding your gaze while Changbin fucks you. The unmoving intensity of those big brown eyes leaves you tingling, a swoop in your belly that feels as thorough as a good fuck. It crashes into the feeling of Changbin inside you, makes your whole body get tight so Changbin groans and curses.
“Oh,” is all you can say. You cover your face with both hands, gasping when Changbin goes back to longer, deeper thrusts.
“Heyyy, baby, why are you hiding?” Jisung says in his sweetest voice.
You hear him approaching, even above the sound of you getting fucked, above Changbin’s little grunts, above Chan cursing. You feel the dip of the mattress when Jisung climbs up on the bed, sitting near your head. Then his hands are on your wrists, prying them away from your face. You try to wrestle them back but he holds them calmly, his own arms boasting a subtle musculature as he pins your hands to the mattress to stop you from moving.
“Yes,” Changbin says. “Like that. Come on.”
“Jisungie,” you whine, looking down at where Changbin is driving into you, feeling each thrust deeper than your pussy, all the way up to your throat. You tip your head back, looking at Jisung upside down.
He leans down, his hair swooping forward, tickling your face as he kisses your forehead and temple.
“It’s okay, baby,” he says. Despite his soft voice, he does not lighten his grip, your hands still locked in place. “Does it hurt?” he asks, wide-eyed.
“Mmm,” you say, nodding, even while shuddering with so much pleasure that a tear spills down your cheek.
“Aww,” he says, licking that tear track, making every nerve spasm. “You’re so cute, baby.”
“She gets tighter when you choke her,” Chan says.
“Awww,” Jisung says. He releases one hand to reach for you. He wraps his fingers delicately around your throat, not even squeezing at first, just a caress as his hand curls around you.
Your adrenaline naturally peaks, body clenching, just like Chan said. Changbin groans his satisfaction and Jisung tightens his grip, keeping you pinned by the throat while Changbin goes still, coming inside you.
“Fuck,” Chan says.
Jisung releases your throat and you suck in a shaky breath. It is interrupted when Jisung swoops in, kissing your lips upside down. You squirm under the confusing messiness of his open mouth at this angle.
He comes up with a breath, one as shaky as your own, ravished from a kiss. He runs his hand through his hair and nods to Changbin, saying, “Turn her around.”
Two pairs of hands find you, manhandling you so easily between them. You yelp, startled by the movement, as they lift you up and turn you around so your head is in Changbin’s lap and Jisung is now the one between your legs.
Changbin hoists you into his arms, holds you in the cradle of his bicep as Jisung lays down between your open legs.
This is one area that Jisung never hesitates to indulge, his open mouth descending on your pussy with ravenous excitement.
You are so, so sensitive down there, almost numb beneath the first few searching swipes.
He presses his whole mouth there, moaning as he sucks on your clit then licks up and down, back and forth, around and around. His tongue rubs where Changbin just came, circling your sensitive hole, pressing there then licking back up to your already throbbing clit.
“Can’t come again,” you say, not entirely sure if it comes out coherent because your eyes are closed and your brain feels fuzzy.
He answers with a hum. He does not seem to be eating you out with the intention of making you come, but purely for his own pleasure as he sucks and licks and tastes. Despite that – and despite your words – you feel a tightening in your belly, a dull throb that feels too feels too deep to reach.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” Changbin says when you start to writhe, his big arm wrapped around your neck, holding you tight to his beating heart.
The thud of that heart, the relentless flick of Jisung’s tongue, and Chan’s approving nod makes your thighs press around Jisung’s head.
“Oh—” is your last word before you come again, bucking hard against Jisung’s face. You gasp and cling to Changbin’s arm.
Jisung keeps licking at you, not relenting until your gasping whine is more of a scream. Then he kisses your thighs and hips before pushing himself up onto his knees.
He and Changbin wordlessly work together, sitting you upright to remove your only article of clothing. Both pairs of hands find you again, touching and groping and stimulating everywhere.
You shudder under all the sensation, eyes closing, rocking against nothing. You are desperate to close your legs to relieve the tension, but Jisung is kneeling between them. Fortunately, he knows you well, his hand sliding down there, fingers finding you, curling into you.
“You’re soo wet, baby, it’s embarrassing,” he says. “You need it that bad?”
He is still using his sweetest voice, like he doesn’t know he is about to utterly wreck your shit. Because Jisung always does without very much effort, simply by effect of having the biggest dick you have ever taken. It is part of the reason you usually can’t start with him, or why he takes his time when you do, because it is an aching endeavour whenever he tries to fit all that inside you.
Even the bulge in his shorts is obscene, the material rubbing against your thighs. He brings your hand to that bulge and groans when you squeeze it, saying, “That’s it, that’s it—”
He leans over you. It sounds like he and Changbin might be kissing above your head, sloppily at that. Jisung is probably shoving his tongue into Changbin’s mouth, the same tongue that was just inside you as it licked up the mess that Changbin made.
They press you between their bodies in an envelope of desire, utterly dominating your senses. Changbin smells like his shampoo, a deep scent like mahogany, while Jisung tends to douse himself in cologne, faded now at the end of the day but still a rich, expensive smell. Beneath all that is that simple sweat, bodies getting worked up, raw sex overwhelming all those other scents.
You breathe them in, whimpering because you are pressed so tightly between them. You can feel Jisung twitching in your hand and Changbin beginning to stiffen again at your backside.
There is a wet pop and a shared gasp when they stop kissing. Jisung grabs your face and pulls you up, his mouth hot when it claims yours, that stupidly talented mouth making you crazy.
“Hold her,” Jisung says, speaking against your lips while guiding Changbin’s hands. Jisung grabs your thighs and pushes them up, not quite folding you in half but almost there. He knows you need to be open to take him. Even then, you are already clenching, fluttering around nothing in anticipation.
Changbin holds your thighs back, hands pressed under the curve of your knee. Jisung hastily shoves his shorts down his thighs, leaving them gathered at the knee. He touches you and uses your desire to wet his dick, frantically jerking it as if it is not already intimidatingly hard and ready.
“Jisungie,” you say, already whining, wiping an embarrassing spot of drool as it spills over your bottom lip. Your body is so eager that it thunders out of control, clenching around nothing, and you can’t seem to stop it.
Jisung is so mean, just using his fingertip for a second, circling your fluttering hole. You try kicking him but your ankle manages little more than a flick, your legs trapped in Changbin’s hold.
“Sorry,” Jisung says, giggling and obviously unapologetic. He flicks your pouting bottom lip before finally putting the tip of his dick at your entrance.
The first little bit is always fine. It feels good to be full, your body needing him, pulling him in. He rocks back and forth a little, pushing an inch then another, and that’s when your body realizes how much there is, clenching and stretching and burning as he pushes in.
He goes slow, his whining mouth against your throat. But then Chan sits on the edge of the bed and touches his back. He bottoms out quickly and you squeak, eyes closed and breath coming fast.
You hear Chan say, “Take it off.” Confused, you blink your eyes open. Chan is talking to Jisung, tugging his shirt up his back.
Jisung groans but complies, tugging it over his head with one hand. The few seconds give you a precious moment to adjust, barely enough before he comes back and starts to fuck you with short, rolling thrusts. You think Chan is getting Jisung’s shorts out of the way given the jerky way Jisung moves on top of you, but then you are skin to skin with no obstruction.
“Mmph, yellow – legs,” you say, breaking only briefly to prevent a cramp in your thighs. Changbin is quick to smooth you out, helping reposition you more comfortably.
You sprawl flat on your back as Changbin moves away, wrapping your legs around Jisung’s waist without any hindrance. He holds himself above you, alternatively muttering expletives and cooing sweet nothings at you.
Changbin sits on one side, Chan the other, both fully clothed despite the obvious strain below their waistbands. It reminds you a little of the time Changbin topped Jisung while Chan fucked you, the pair of you kissing and touching between them the entire time.
Today is a little different. You are at the centre of it all, Jisung inside you, Chan’s hand on your chest and Changbin’s fingers circling your mouth. You take those fingers when prompted, sucking dutifully, batting your eyelashes up at him while he softly finger-fucks your mouth.
Chan’s fingers join him, touching your lip. You open your mouth wider and drool messily around the intrusion.
“Fuck,” Chan says. He rips his hand back in sudden needy haste. “Turn over,” he demands, smacking Jisung on the ass.
It makes Jisung yelp but he complies. With some help from Changbin, you roll over until Jisung is on his back and you are on top of him. Changbin kneels upright too, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, tongue penetrating your mouth as Jisung holds your hips and thrusts up into you.
Chan grabs the back of your neck, holding you in place while Changbin kisses you. Chan’s other hand runs down your front, tweaking a nipple and making you mewl into Changbin’s mouth. You are more panting than kissing by the time Chan’s fingers reach your pussy.
Jisung slows down just a little, out of breath and whimpering as you clench around him. This angle makes him feel stupidly deep, your eyes rolling back. He makes a few small, jerky movements, not even a deep thrust, and it still feels like he his hitting your heart.
Chan joins the kiss with Changbin. You are not even sure who is kissing you, just that it is one or the other, back and forth until you are dizzy. You know it is Chan’s fingers between your legs, the unmistakable pattern of his deft, familiar stroke making you spiral towards another orgasm.
“Oh, god, she’s – she’s—” Jisung says, squeezing your hips, going still for a minute to stop himself from coming when you do. He is breathing as hard as you.
You look down at Jisung, holding eye contact while you come hard on Chan’s fingers. Chan and Changbin are each sucking a bruise into either side of your neck.
“Fuck,” you say in a watery voice, thighs shaking, hands on Jisung’s abdomen as you lean forward.
“That’s it,” Chan says, kissing your throat sweetly while Changbin bites you meanly. Both of them swipe their tongue across the mark they leave behind. “Jisung,” Chan says, a demand without further explanation.
“Fuck, I know,” Jisung says, slowly moving his hips again.
It is so quick off your orgasm, it makes aftershocks move through your whole body. You are a livewire, making every ridiculous sound possible as Jisung fucks you, Changbin kisses you, and Chan gets up behind you.
Chan runs his hands down your sides, gently bending you forward until you are chest to chest with Jisung.
“Yup, just like that,” Chan says, rubbing the base of your spine then lower. His hands cup the curve of your ass, squeezing, tilting your hips just so. It gives him a good view of Jisung’s cock moving in and out of you, no doubt obscenely wet and messy, as well as exposing the smaller hole in your ass as he spreads you open.
“Changbin,” Chan says, still with that same confident assurance he will be obeyed no matter what, “Pass me the lube. Bedside drawer.”
As if you were not already sensitive enough, just hearing those words makes everything clench, which makes Jisung fuck you harder, which makes some place inside you that is so unbelievably soft and tender start to ache.
“Ah, that sound,” Changbin says when your moans turn to high-pitched whimpers. He pats the back of your head and reaches for the bedside table.
After a bit of rustling, he tosses the lube at Chan who catches it easily.
“One second,” Changbin says while Chan uncaps it. “She’s gonna come again. Big one, isn’t it, yes?”
The fact he knows before you do is a testament to how closely he watches you, how well he knows you. He is completely right, of course, as Jisung repeatedly pounds into some squishy, vulnerable part of you, so deep and so tender. You are not sure your clit would even respond if someone tried to touch it, but they don’t need to. It is enough that Jisung is hitting that place again and again.
You come with a scream, literally gushing around Jisung as you come. It takes everything in his willpower not to come, nonsensically begging Changbin to help so he doesn’t finish. Changbin just grabs him by the throat, much harder than Jisung grabbed you, making Jisung choke out a strangled gasp immediately. It works, though, as Jisung goes still but stays hard, letting you rock desperately on top of him as your orgasm seems to last ages.
When it finishes, you are completely boneless. You slump onto Jisung who takes a breath when Changbin lets go.
“All right,” Changbin says, smacking your ass. You hear him kiss Chan quickly. “Your turn.”
It is a good thing you feel so willowy; it makes it easy for Chan to open you up on his slick fingers. The few times you have done this, it always took forever, which was fun in its own way, but today it is so easy. He slides a finger right in, then another, hardly any obstruction as your body surrenders so completely to your boyfriends.
“You gonna take it okay, baby?” Jisung asks, his hands on your sides, holding you steady.
You look up at him, nodding, and open your mouth with a whine. He understands, lifting his head, meeting you in a messy, lazy kiss while he rocks slowly inside you. The kiss only breaks when Chan replaces his fingers with his cock, reigniting every spark in your over sensitized body.
“Ugh, god,” Jisung says, barely above a breath as he pants against your mouth. “He’s inside you, baby?”
You don’t answer because he can probably feel it when Chan is fully inside you. It takes a second for them to calibrate, find a rhythm that works. You are not sure if you are more impressed with yourself for taking it so easily this time, or impressed that Jisung has lasted this long and is still coherent enough to keep a steady rhythm.
“Changbin,” you say, his name a moan on your lips. You need to feel him too, his hand on your back not nearly enough.
“Go,” Chan says, groaning, your hips in his hands as he fucks you. “Oh, baby, you’re so good,” he says. “Isn’t our girl so good for us?”
Changbin and Jisung basically just grunt in reply, affirmative but irrevocably distracted.
Changbin kneels near your head, rubbing the back of your neck and gently guiding you to turn your face. Jisung swears when you open your mouth, a bit of spit drooling past his own lips as he watches you take Changbin’s cock past your lips. You mostly just lay there with your mouth open, letting him fuck it rather than really blowing him, but there are no complaints.
Chan squeezes your ass, a gentle knead that just makes you feel more open, stretched to your absolute limits, so full that you do not know how you will ever be happy without them all inside you.
It reinvigorates you. You find strength in your arm and use it to touch Changbin, fist circling where your mouth does not reach. You get him off first but Chan follows quickly, muttering things like you, tight, perfect, baby, baby, baby.
“Oh god,” Jisung says, somehow still holding out. When Chan slips out, it gives Jisung slightly more leverage. He pushes himself upright, letting you slump in his arms and cling to him while he fucks up into you with quick, desperate little uh-uh-uhs.
Finally, he comes, your name melting into a moan as he buries his face in your neck, mouth open where Changbin left his bitemark.
They surround you after that and you hum happily, letting them pass you from one pair of arms to the next. Jisung flops back, running his hands through his hair and catching his breath. Changbin is there with a cloth of some kind – you think it might be Jisung’s shirt, but Jisung is way past caring – and he gives you a quick and gentle wipe-down while kissing your sleepy brow.
“I should buy you sweaters more often,” Changbin says, giggling.
It makes you snort with laughter, blinking up at him with a grin. “Was gonna fuck you anyway, dummy,” you say.
“In that case, I’ll buy you another one right now.”
You giggle when he rubs his nose against yours in a cute little nose-kiss, eyes crinkling with an affectionate smile.
“Mm, c’mere, sleepy,” Chan says, rightfully as you are still mostly slumped in his arms. You manage to string an arm around his neck as he scoops you off the bed and holds you against his chest.
You are still a little dazed from so much sensation. You let your boys take care of you. After some quick inspection and care, you are plunked in a bath with Jisung to clean and decompress while the other two go strip and re-make the bed.
Jisung kisses your face while helping you wash, his careful hands and the hot water soothing every achy limb.
“Totally worth it,” you say, head under his chin, eyes closed and sighing contently.
Changbin comes to help you out. By then, you are bright-eyed, sore but in a way that makes you alive. You feel clean and fresh and loved, bundled up in a robe and then carried off in Changbin’s arms to the living room where food, a comfy couch, and Chan is waiting.
Jisung joins a moment later. The laptop is long since closed and utterly forgotten, the four of you snuggling up in a big blanket. Chan has an arm slung across the back of the couch, your head on his chest, Changbin’s arm around your middle, and Jisung half-asleep where heis slumped against Changbin.
“Round two?” Jisung asks then promptly yawns, making you laugh as Changbin playfully smacks him and Chan just sighs an amused sigh.
Taking the cue from Jisung’s yawn, you close your eyes and snuggle down.
“Love you,” you say, drifting off to each of them saying it back. You know one of them will carry you to bed eventually, so you let yourself drift into sleep, safe and warm, happiest when you are all together, just like this, the four of you always in perfect harmony.
#3racha x reader#3racha smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#han jisung x reader#han jisung smut#seo changbin x reader#seo changbin smut#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids x you#skz x you#bang chan x you#seo changbin x you#han jisung x you
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❝ THINGS THEY DO THAT GIVE YOU BUTTERFLIES ! ❞ ╰┈➤ MHA EDITION
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: shoto todoroki, kirishima eijirou, hitoshi shinsou, denki kaminari, katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, sero hanta
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: suggestive? ig lmao, mentions of marijuana/drug usage
BAKUGOU KATSUKI
✮ helps you do your skincare and looks at your face so focused as he rubs aquaphor/vaseline on your skin
✮ holds you by the waist while walking across the street
✮ just something about the way he says “c’mere.” man
✮ will fight people to sit next to you when y’all go out to eat with friends
✮ when he’s stopping you from going somewhere or doing something stupid he forces you into a hug, burying your face into his chest as he restrains you
✮ wipes food off the corner of your mouth and eye crust off the corner of your eyes
✮ lifts you up off the ground and throws you over his shoulder with ease
✮ kisses your hands from your fingertips to your palms
✮ gives you rides to places y’all get invited to even if he’s not going because he wants you to be safe
✮ adjusts your bonnet/scarf for you while you lay down (and if you wear glasses– he takes them off for you when you fall asleep with them on accidentally)
✮ grabs you by your neck to kiss you.
✮ makes you put your face in the camera on facetime and constantly telling you “get off paused”
TODOROKI SHOTO
✮ insists on feeding you his food every time he gets something to eat and you’re in his vicinity— he’ll just bring food up to your mouth and say “open”
✮ and shares drinks without not caring one bit about swapping spit
✮ mindlessly kisses your cheek while he studies sitting next to you
✮ will sit in the bathroom with you while you pee
✮ leans his forehead against yours before/after kissing you
✮ brings you around his friends because he wants them to love you as much as he does
✮ constantly hugging you from behind
✮ is quick to defend you any time his father says something slick, and will tell endeavour about himself immediately
✮ will carry you up the stairs if you feel lazy
✮ has a habit of spoiling you that he has no intention of breaking
✮ says “bless you” with the sweetest voice every time you sneeze, and pats your back every time you cough
✮ brushes hair out of your face even if you don’t notice it there
✮ he has a hard time with feelings, so on special occasion— or if he just feels like it, he’ll write you lengthy love letters signed with his initial and a heart at the end
MIDORIYA IZUKU
✮ lays you in his lap when he studies so he can still hold you while he’s occupied
✮ if you even utter the words “i want”, he’s buying it.
✮ always offers to tie your shoes
✮ drags his y’s when he calls you baby or honey (“but babyyyy”)
✮ holds your hand in front of his friends with no shame
✮ wears anything you buy him no matter if it matches his wardrobe or not
✮ licks his lips a lot
✮ lets you mindless play with his hair and he does the same with you
✮ gives the best massages known to man
✮ bounces his leg often, especially when you’re sitting in lap
✮ also always hugs your waist when you sit in his lap
✮ has a highlight for you on his main instagram account that he’s constantly updating because he’s constantly posting you
✮ rushes to zip up your jacket for you before you can do it yourself
✮ pats your head to tease you
SERO HANTA
✮ always throw his arm over your shoulder when he sits next to you on the couch
✮ when you try to get sassy with him he straight up laughs in your face and noogies you
✮ lifts you up to sit on the counter while he fixes himself something to eat in the kitchen
✮ laughs when you show him guys talking to themselves in your dm requests
✮ smiles at you with half open eyes when you smoke together
✮ also the best trip sitter in the world
✮ quick to call you and ask what you want went he grabs something to eat for himself
✮ if you hug him standing up while he’s sitting down he hugs you tight around your waist and leans his head in your stomach
✮ willingly lets you drive his car and if you don’t know how to drive, has no problem teaching you
✮ lets you sit in his lap when he’s on the phone or on the game
KIRISHIMA EIJIROU
✮ gives you princess treatment. always.
✮ literally has a seat cover on his passenger seat that says “princess” that he puts on whenever he’s about to have you in his car
✮ holds your hand and walks you down the stairs
✮ offers to wash your hair for you
✮ will send you money without a question if you even utter the words “i’m hungry” or “i want..”
✮ carries you everywhere even when it’s not necessary
✮ always refers to you as “my lady” or “my baby” to other people— he barely uses your name.
✮ brushes your hair and puts lotion on for you
✮ geniunely enjoys going perfume shopping with you and will try different ones out to help you choose
✮ fixes your posture if you’re hunching while sitting
✮ pokes your cheek when he thinks you look cute or if he just feels like it
✮ king of forehead kisses, he gave you ones even when y’all were just friends
KAMINARI DENKI
✮ looks at you with glossy eyes while you’re high together, making direct contact as he stares at your lips while you talk and licks his own as he plans his next action
✮ is constantly calling you “baby”
✮ throws his head back as he gulps down a can of soda, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down his neck as he gives you an amazing view of his jawline
✮ certified french kissing addict
✮ says “hmm?” in a soft tone to tease you- or when he genuinely does not hear you
✮ puts his hands over yours to show you how to do something
✮ squishes your cheeks when you pout and laughs in your face
✮ kisses your neck in a sweet way, not even to start something
✮ him playing guitar. that’s all i need to say.
✮ wipes the food of the corner of your mouth and licks it off his thumb, just so casually
✮ in general- casually touches you in a way or says things that leave you flustered out of words and acts like it’s nothing (sometimes it’s not even on purpose)
✮ does that hand/finger motion with his two fingers when he wants you to hand him something or come over to him (ik y’all know what i’m talking about)
✮ feeds you his food and asks you to feed him, leading to yall always feeding each other when yall go out to get food— even around y’all’s friends
HITOSHI SHINSOU
✮ pulls in his lap whenever he feels like it and rests his hand on your thigh, rubbing it with his thumb
✮ “use your words” –in the most casual way possible.
✮ will check you every time you have an attitude just to get you flustered
✮ makes you maintain eye contact with him when you’re flustered and will tease you endlessly
✮ whispers in your ear in public (mainly to talk shit)
✮ while give you his jacket in public without you asking and just let you keep it after you go home
✮ rolls blunts for you while fake complaining that you need to learn how to roll (he’d still roll for you even if you did)
✮ smacks his lip and rolls his eyes lot
✮ taps his finger on his desk or the arm of his chair when he’s thinking
✮ leans his head back on his chair often
✮ prefers you to face him when he has you on his lap
© rumisgf
#bakugou x black reader#denki headcanons#bakugou headcanons#bakugou katsuki#denki kaminari x reader#denki kaminari#kaminari headcanons#denki x black reader#mha#mha shinsou#shinsou x reader#shinsou x black reader#shoto todoroki x black reader#todoroki x black reader#todoroki headcanons#todoroki x reader#shoto todoroki#izuku x black reader#izuku x reader#izuku midoriya#izuku midoria x reader#kirishima x black reader#kirishima hcs#mha kirishima#kirishima x reader#kirishima eijirou#sero x black!reader#bnha sero#sero hanta#bakugou x reader
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The breeze on his hair.
Endeavour: Ride (2016)
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ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !
୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)
୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.
୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧
let’s get one thing straight.
not all daddy’s girls are dumb.
on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.
but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.
perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older step sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.
it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.
and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.
“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked.
it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree.
you were such a good person.
turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…
“can i come?”
with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.”
“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.
rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.”
you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).
however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banter the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with.
instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried.
“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?”
“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips.
megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him.
you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan.
he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice.
fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and pinging them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.”
he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too.
you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it?
megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time.
finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”
the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.
the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.
your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when your ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress!
the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi.
he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head.
“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.”
like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be.
“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.”
fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?”
“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.”
“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.”
flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips.
“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly.
you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.
everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal.
this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body.
“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“
he lets go of your wrists.
tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twitch against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree.
“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.
you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company.
“quit staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…”
he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.”
fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”
it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now.
“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.”
his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.
“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?”
the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.”
heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly.
“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze.
the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.”
you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more.
“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?”
“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.
he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.”
fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing you to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.”
he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him.
because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all.
“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.”
the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later.
pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?”
he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease.
they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you.
“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers.
he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.
tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.”
you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.
you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last.
“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs.
a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.
“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.
you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless.
now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today.
your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself. “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.”
his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand.
“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself.
this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?”
you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there.
“fuck…yes.”
“and you won’t touch me?”
“not until i’m satisfied, princess.”
and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs.
“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”
he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.
even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.
“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”
megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.
one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.
each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.
“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.
sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.
“s-shut up.”
“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.”
he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.
you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.”
you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.
you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs.
clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much.
“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?”
nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.
he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi.
your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.
there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb.
“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”
your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.
“f-fuck, g-gumi!”
fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you. “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.”
your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.”
fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.”
the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.
he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you.
“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit.
“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.”
megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response.
“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”
“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”
the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hard that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.
your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.”
despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.
“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you gush all fucking over me.”
that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.
“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.”
he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.
“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect.
“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.
he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.”
your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?”
“really. if it means that much to you.”
sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.”
“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?”
“maybe.”
“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest.
you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.”
but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight.
except this time, you’re not as clueless.
you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#୨୧ KINKTOBER 23’#megumi x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#megumi smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#megumi x you#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushigruo smut#megumi fushigro x you#jjk thirsts#jujutsu kaisen x you#megumi imagine#megumi x y/n#megumi fushiguro#tw: stepcest#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki#angelshubnetwork
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A LITTLE BIT OF PAINT | wolfstar x reader
Pairing: R.L. x S.B. x Reader
Word Count: 9.9k
Warnings: smut, threesome, finger fucking, oral (male receiving), handj*b, dry h*mping, thigh ridding, p in v, Remus is a mess, mild Dom!Remus (if you squint really hard), he might also have a praise k!nk, Sirius is a flirt (danger to humanity honestly), homoerotic scenes(?), you and Sirius can’t take your eyes off Rem, Rem can’t take his eyes off you either, consent is sexy!
Prompt: Sirius and you are art students and you’ve got an assignment, a nude painting, but you can’t paint each other. Trying to convict Remus to model for you was hard enough, but painting him, while he looks so damn stunning, might prove a harder endeavour to accomplish.
♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut
“So?” Sirius asked as he leaned onto Remus, “would you do it?”
“Pretty please?” you asked with a small pout and a few blinks.
Remus sighed, “Why don’t you just paint each other?”
Both you and Sirius had been trying to convince Remus to be your nude model for an assignment for the last 20 minutes. He was your best friend, and both you and Sirius had always wanted to use him as a model, but had never been too keen to do it, not even clothed. But you needed him now.
“We can’t do someone we’ve fucked,” Sirius said with a sigh, “We’d already done it otherwise.”
“Just use each other and draw a face from a magazine,” Remus offered.
“It won’t work either,” you responded now, “We’ve both been models for the class, they know our bodies.”
Remus tried not to blush at the thought of Sirius and you, naked in the centre of a room for hours on end while people stared and drew all the small details of your bodies. The details that he assumed had only been seen by the other, now he regretted not taking the class, but scolded himself out of those stupid thoughts.
He sighed, “Ask James?”
“Regulus’ gonna do James,” Sirius responded, “He was obviously more than thrilled to oblige him.”
“We wouldn’t be asking you if we didn’t need you, please Moony!”
Remus looked to the side, licking his lips before biting on the bottom one and sighing, however could he say no to the two of you. “Okay,” he whispered.
“Wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, a huge smile dancing on your lips, it made you look stunning.
He nodded, “But you’ll owe me, big one.”
You leaned in to hug him and then Sirius did the same, both of you sandwiching Moony in between the two of you.
“Anything for Moony,” Sirius added.
Just a few days later, you were outside of one of the classrooms. It was a smaller cosy one that tended to be used for models, with huge windows but near the top of the building so no one would be able to look inside. You had rented it for the rest of the day since both you and Sirius were determined to finish in one sitting, and neither of you was sure if Remus would subject himself to more than that either.
“You think he’ll come?” you asked as you looked at your watch for the third time that day.
“He’ll come, luv. Don’t worry about it.”
You sighed, Remus was seldom late. And it took you some time to convince him, you were scared he wouldn’t want to anymore.
You were fumbling with the keys to the room, and just as you inserted them inside the keyhole, you heard a fumbling at the end of the corridor.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, his bag hanging on the side and a coat hanging on the other side. I got held up by the traffic, “I brought the car since it said it was gonna rain, thought I could give you both a ride back, when we were done.”
You smiled when you spotted him and flipped the keys as Sirius gave you an “I told you so look”.
Remus was breathing heavily when he reached the two of you, “and then I couldn’t find the room, this place is a bloody maze.”
Both you and Sirius chuckled at that. “We arrived late to our first class,” Sirius said. “The teacher told us we’d have to find our own model for being late and we made a deal to model for each other, that’s how we met.”
“I know,” Remus said. He remembered when Sirius and you became friends, first Sirius didn’t shut up about you, then he introduced you to each other, and he understood why Sirius couldn’t shut up about you. Remus and Sirius went way back, they had been friends since elementary, along with James, Peter, Lily, Marlene and Mary. You had quickly gotten along with all of them, and they had made you a part of their little group.
Finally, the door clicked open and you pushed on it, allowing both boys to get in before shutting it down and putting both the hand lock and the latch bolt. Remus threw you a look. “We’ve heard stories of people walking in on people painting and ruining their stuff by knocking things out. I doubt you’d want someone walking in on you.”
Remus nodded and moved to sit on the small coach on the side. Thankfully the room was designed in a way to make models feel at ease. There was a music box where you could play tapes on the side, a sofa for them to feel comfortable, and then there was a table in the middle of the room. Both you and Sirius walked to the closet and he pulled on the easels while you went for the props you were planning to use. A small basket filled with fruits. “You brought the sheet?”
“On my bag,” he said as he nodded to the side.
“Kay,” you said as you leaned down to get it.
“You may start changing Moons,” Sirius said, as the boy moved to help him with the easel. They had one in their apartment, and Remus already knew how to set it up from seeing Sirius do it so many times before.
He swallowed and made sure to finish setting up the easel before nodding and walking towards the table. Sirius was taking off his leather jacket, and Remus attempted to ignore the way his friend’s muscles bent as he did. Sirius had always been beautiful, but this attraction he felt for his best friend was relatively new, he could barely stand it.
You were still looking for the props when you turned around and spotted Remus pulling his soft brown jumper over his head. He wore a soft beige cotton shirt underneath it that was just a little tight over his arms. You tried not to bite your lips as you stared. Both Sirius and you had talked about how pretty you both thought Remus was, what a shame it was he wasn’t into either of you, if only you knew.
Sirius gave you an amused look, his lips curling into a mocking smile and his brows shooting up and down. You pushed him lightly with your shoulder and walked toward the table before your cheeks warmed even further.
“We’ll do mine first,” Remus explained, at least my sketch, Sirius’ next and then we’ll alternate.
“You’ll do different poses?” Remus asked as he looked up at you, pulling the other shirt over his shoulders little after. Sirius tried not to laugh at the way you were looking at his friend. He had already seen how ripped Remus was, they were roommates, after all.
“Yeah,” you responded as you got a hold of yourself. “We are gonna make it seem like we drew different people.”
Remus nodded in response. He was slightly self-conscious about his scars, he’d gotten them as a kid in an accident. His parents were zoologists and worked with wolves, they had taken a puppy home since he was hurt, and Remus thought it was a dog. He pulled the hurt animal out of the cage to “play with it” but accidentally grabbed him from the part he’d been hurt, the animal retaliated by slashing him, face, torso, back, and legs. Remus had been 4 and had no way to defend himself, he also didn’t want to hurt the puppy so he allowed it to happen. When his parents found him, he was crying in a pool of blood, and the wolf pup had hidden somewhere in their garden.
There was apprehension in your eyes as you stared at his scars, not because they were ugly, you thought Remus was beautiful, but because you thought of the pain they had once caused him. You cleared your throat. “I got this for you,” you explained as you showed him the basket of fruits, you had bought them all yesterday and left them in the small fridge in the room. “You’ll be holding in both of your arms, it’s like a recreation of an older painting,” you explained.
Remus nodded, taking in the information as he fumbled with the button of his trousers. Half focused on what you said, half mortified over getting naked in front of you and Sirius.
You pulled the basket in your hands again, “Kind of like this, okay?” you said as you grabbed the basket in the way he would be grabbing it, giving the fruits one last arrangement and taking a picture for reference in case they moved around. He gave you an understanding nod and you gave him a thumbs up in return. Sirius walked over to take Remus’ clothes from the table, and hastily dropped them over the smaller sofa, bringing over a bottle of wine, a decanter and an empty cup.
“Our concept is based on gods, she’s going for Bacchus,” he explained, Remus was fumbling around with the trousers at the end of his feet, taking longer than he normally would to take off his clothes, Sirius obviously noticed. “She wants to capture the youth and lust of winemaking.”
Remus gave him somewhat of a stern look and Sirius smiled cheekily in return. “And yours?” he asked.
“Eros and Psyche,” Sirius responded with a slight tilt of his head.
“And Psyche?”
“Don’t worry your pretty head with it yet,” Sirius added condescendingly and got a shove from Remus in return.
You were looking at the two of them with a smile, you’d always loved the relationship with the two, there was never a time they were more at ease than when they were with each other.
Sirius sighed, and you smiled. Remus still felt nervous, taking his socks off and keeping his boxers on as he waited for new instructions. Sirius gave him a look as he sat on the window just behind you, and your easel, looking at how you sharpened your pencils and charcoal for sketching. “Would you help me pose him?” You asked, turning your head slightly to Sirius before focusing again on your pencils and canvas, taking a ruler to break down the piece into smaller squares to make sure you got your proportions right.
Sirius nodded, jumped down from the window seal and picked up the white sheet he’d brought from his backpack.
“Time to take them off, mate,” he said. Remus swallowed and nodded, taking off his boxers carefully and throwing them in the same direction Sirius had thrown the rest of his clothes. Then he placed his hand over himself and stared in between you and Sirius nervously. You were still focused on your canvas, so you didn’t quite see the interaction, but Sirius did and smiled. He had the inkling little feeling that maybe Remus was into you. He had told you about it but you had shrugged it off, Remus had become something like your best friend, there was no way.
But Sirius had known Remus for longer than you did, and he knew his friend like he knew the back of his hand –and boy he knew that one well from seeing it so much while painting. And the nervous glances Remus kept throwing your way, made him feel a little more confident of his theory. Perhaps all the two of you needed was a little push, and then that one recurring dream he had could become a reality.
Sirius extended the sheet over Remus and placed it on his arms, just falling off the shoulders like some kind of shawl, he then accommodated the sheet covering one of his legs and his private parts. Remus seemed reassured by that, and Sirius again, tried not to smile knowingly. He then passed Remus the basket and helped him accommodate it in place.
“It's not too heavy is it?”
“Not right now,” Remus said as he held it between his hands. Sirius then proceeded to place his hands on Remus’ bare back and traced his fingers over his friend’s muscles in a reassuring and discreet manner, giving a light squeeze near his neck.
“Relax,” he said as he looked at the boy. Sirius had no idea how little relaxing that devious smile of his was, Remus’ skin burned at his touch. “Lean your head back a little bit, would you?” Remus swallowed and did as told, anything to have Sirius step away before he noticed the things he was actually doing to him. “A little bit more,” Sirius insisted and placed his hand on the boy’s neck. Allowing it to linger as he moved him around as he pleased.
“Hey Angel,” he called, and you looked up, smiling at the sight of the two boys, “Is this all right?”
“Come here,” you told Sirius, he finally let go of Rem and walked towards you, standing just behind the easel just at your side. “What do you think? Isn’t he a little too stiff?”
“Yeah,” Sirius responded.
“Thought so,” you breathed and left your pencil and charcoal on the easel before walking towards Remus. “Close your eyes, would you?” you asked softly. Remus hesitated before doing what told. “Take a deep breath for me, good, that’s good… Remember that time you told me about your trip to Dover? You told me you climbed to the very top of the castle, that it was freezing cold and that no one but you had been brave enough to climb up to the roof. It was empty but there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. So thin that when you pressed your feet, it melted away allowing you to see the stone.
“You mentioned you leaned over the edges and got to see the castle, the grounds and then, then you got to see the ocean.” Remus' tense self was slowly starting to subdue. “You said you could hear the distant waves, and then you felt a small prickle in your cheek.”
“It started snowing,” Remus said softly.
You smiled, took a grape from his basket and placed it near his mouth, pushing it in between his lips. He opened his mouth when he felt the fruit and ate it with a frown, opening his eyes to look at it, and then at you. You were so bloody close to him.
“There you go,” you said with a smile. “Much better now, keep that relaxed face of yours so I can paint it, will you?” you added teasingly. Remus was munching on the grape with a confused and yet amused face. You gave him a short wink and then went back to your spot, missing the slight flush that coated his cheek.
“Comfortable?” Sirius teased.
Remus threw him a look and you swatted Sirius with your pencil softly. “Stop teasing him, he’ll tense again,” you scolded. Remus couldn’t help but smile at the small interaction between the two and you finished up with the sharpening, picking up the pencil and starting to sketch. Remus let his head fall back as you traced, closing his eyes and changing his stance every once in a while, pulling his head off and watching you knit your brows together as you moved your pencil over the canvas.
“You’re getting the proportions wrong,” Sirius said. “His hand is bigger than that.”
You grumbled in return, “I know! I just–“ you pulled an eraser and started to furiously move it over the canvas, Remus was looking at the two of you carefully. “I can’t get it to work out.”
“Want help?”
“You can’t keep helping me when I don’t get the hands right…”
“Why not? You always help me with light and shadow, you’re an expert.”
You sighed, “It’s not the same Sirius.”
“Yes it is,” he said in a no-nonsense kind of way, then he placed his hand over yours, and started guiding your sketch. “Come on, loosen up.”
Meanwhile, Remus was looking at the domestic scene between the two with a mix of admiration and longing. The two of you looked stunning as you painted him, both deeply focused on the canvas, with a casual glance straight at his hand holding the basket, he smiled as he saw Sirius lean even closer to you, obviously unnecessary but something Sirius did often anyway. He had never seen his friend as smitten with a human as he had seen him with you.
Eventually, Sirius let go of your hand and you added a few other touches. “Do you want to start painting or should I start with my sketch first?” he asked.
You turned your head and stared at the cloudy sky, “I’ll use the sunlamp for my lighting, we can do yours if you want, that way you take advantage of natural light for your drawing.”
He nodded, “Okay, get ready, I’ll work on the canvas.”
You sent him a short wink and he walked behind his easel. Remus took the time to put down the basket and accommodate the sheet around him a little better. “Cold?” you asked, “we can turn off the AC.” He shook his head. Just self-conscious then, you realised. Well, he won’t have to worry too much about that.
You took your hoodie off and then, but it wasn’t until you took a hold of your shirt and flipped it over your head that Remus realised what was going on. Your hands were behind your bra when he averted his gaze to the side completely blushed. “Sirius, If you’re painting her, can I leave?”
“Of course not,” Sirius said simply, “I’m painting the both of you.”
“You what?”
“Eros and Psyche, remember?”
“But you said you couldn’t paint people you’ve fucked,” he retorted in a rather accusing manner.
“Yeah, that’s why I’ll switch her hair colour and you’ll cover her face.”
“You never said I’d have to pose with your naked girlfriend!”
“It’s okay Rem, I don’t mind, I’ve been a nude model for the class a couple of times.”
Remus, as he would naturally turn to look at you when you spoke, but quickly turned his head to the side when he realised you were now completely naked.
But I do! He thought as he tried to think of anything other than the curve of your breasts. Naked grandma, naked grandma.
You eyed Sirius, “Maybe we can��“ you started, biting your lip.
“Nonsense. We’re all adults, go on.”
You gave Sirius a stern look and he gave you back an equally determined one, nodding towards Remus, a clear indication for you to walk his way.
You took a deep breath but did what he wanted anyway. Walking towards Remus and gently placing a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, If you really don’t want to do this-“
Remus’ head snapped your way, he focused his eyes on yours as best as he could, “No, I– I just– I wasn’t mentally prepared.”
You smiled and tilted your head. You could see the self-restraint he was using not to look at your chest, Sirius was really trying not to cackle behind you as he sharpened his pencils, “You can look,” you said, “you’re gonna see them anyway Rem.” He gave you a frustrated frown. You smiled teasingly in return.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked. He was about ready to just stare for half a second and then move on with his life but he couldn’t quite look away. Not when he saw them perk up for him, his warm breath so close to you causing such a reaction.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Sirius said with a smile from behind the easel. The kind of confident smile of one who knew he could touch them whenever he wanted.
Remus cleared his throat and looked at Sirius. Naked grandma. NAKED GRANDMA. “Go on with your painting, yeah?”
“You haven’t even posed,” he retorted with a smile. You turned your head over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “where do you want me?”
Remus tried not to think of those words, and not to memorise them either. He didn’t want to have dreams about it. Sirius on the other hand, smirked and walked over to the two of you, “Alright mate, time to lose the sheet,” he said as he pulled the one thing covering Remus’ body. While Rem shot to cover himself, Sirius gave you a look and then winked.
You narrowed your eyes at him as you tilted your head, what the hell are you up to, pretty boy?
“Okay, Moony. I need you to sit on the table.” Remus did as told, “Now open your legs a little bit.” Remus gave a stern look to Sirius but did as told, still using his hands to cover himself. “Please Rem,” he added, “I’ll show you mine and you’ll show me yours? Take those hands off, would you? We’ve both seen plenty of dicks already.”
You were looking at Remus’ clavicle as he did, trying to avoid the spot that made him so self-conscious, but Sirius was way bolder than that, and he stared straight at his friend’s cock instead. Was that a twitch? Sirius smiled, bit his lip, and turned back to you.
“You’ll be in between his legs, he’ll have his arms around your arms and his head on your shoulder, is that okay?”
“Okay,” you said simply. Now, had it been any other person, perhaps you wouldn’t have accepted the pose, but this was Remus, you trusted Remus.
Remus, who realised there was no use in arguing, did what Sirius had described, leaning forward so you wouldn’t have to stand so close to him. He tried to avoid his chest brushing into yours, ever the gentleman. Anyone else might have just taken advantage.
Sirius nodded and walked behind his easel again, “Luv, hide your head on his neck, okay?”
“Mhm,” you said and did as told. Being so close to Remus was making you feel things. He was really warm and strong. You enjoyed the way he held you, Sirius could tell. He also knew you as the back of his hand.
“Would you mind leaning in a little closer to him?”
You nodded and did as told. Now your chest was brushing against his, Remus could feel your hardened nipples against his chest, the tip of his ears was now red, even if a good deal of blood was going south. You assumed it was due to embarrassment.
Sirius had already started to draw, and you decided you’d try and ease him, you bent your elbows and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, allowing his grip to become a lot more secure, “It's okay,” you whispered. “Sirius is way faster at sketching than me, he’ll be over in a second. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”
“No, I’m sorry for making this so awkward,” he said softly. “I bet you are used to this and I’m making it weird.”
“Not really,” you said honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder a little more, that was something you had done often, with clothes, though. “I’ve never modelled with anyone other than Sirius. I only said I would because it would be you.”
“You what?” Remus asked, you accommodated and your lips accidentally brushed against his neck, he felt the blush spreading, he was losing control. He couldn’t keep thinking of a naked grandma when he had you pressed against him, whispering on his neck, your warm breath against his skin igniting him like a match against dry leaves.
“I only agreed to Sirius’ pose when he proposed it because you’d be the male model. I don’t like modelling so close to other people.”
Remus sighed, closing his eyes, his cock was already half hard, and here you were talking to him about trusting him to be the male model, he was a total dick.
“Luv, lean in a little closer would you?” Sirius asked.
Remus didn’t even have enough time to give Sirius a warning glance since you confidently did as told, and that’s when you felt it: hard, brushing just under your belly button. You pulled apart just for a second and looked down.
He is huge.
Remus was beet red and staring at Sirius with a mix of exasperation, embarrassment, and anguish. But neither of you seemed to mind, you just pulled your hips slightly back and went back to the previous pose, your nipples brushing against his chest again and making his boner grow even more.
“It’s okay,” you reassured, “It’s actually quite normal, you’d be surprised how many times it happens.”
Remus had his eyes closed shut and was trying not to think, not of your soft chest against him, not of your soft breath fanning against his skin, and certainly not of how close your pussy was to his dick.
You could tell how much more tense he was now. “Do you want to take a break?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Let’s just get over with it.” The last thing Remus needed was to take a break only for it to happen again the minute your skin came into contact with his.
“Are you sure? You’re a lot more tense now, Moons,” you said with a frown as you gently brushed your hand on his soft back, tracing a finger over one of his scars without quite realising you were doing it.
He shook his head, “No, it’s okay.”
“Remus–“ Sirius started.
“It won’t work,” he snapped a little harsher now.
Sirius’s perspicacious look turned into a smirk, he knew he wasn’t imagining things. He gently placed his pencil on the easel and walked over to Remus. “Why not Moony?”
“Sorry?” He asked, nervous. You felt him tense even further and pulled back, he got a glimpse of your breasts again and he only became harder.
“Sirius, you’re making him more nervous,” you added with a frown, your hand still brushing reassuringly on his back.
“No,” he replied, and focused his gaze back on Remus. “I want to know why it wouldn’t work.”
Remus grabbed the basket that was still lying around and placed it over his lap, covering his ever-growing boner.
“You don’t have to respond to that, Rem.”
“He does,” Sirius insisted.
Remus looked at Sirius in disbelief before huffing. “You’re making your bloody gorgeous girlfriend, pose with me and hug me, and lay her head on my shoulder, all while naked. And you’re looking at us, with that, piercing fucking gaze of yours while you do. A break is not going to help because you’ll make us do it again!”
Sirius still had a stern face on, but you noticed the small twist on his lips, he was holding back a smirk.
“Sirius,” you warned.
“No,” he said and focused on Remus again. “Remus, you think my girlfriend’s gorgeous?”
“Everyone thinks your girlfriend’s gorgeous.”
“No, Remus. Do you think she is?”
Remus avoided Sirius’ gaze, red with embarrassment and anger. More at himself than anyone else. His jaw was clenched and his eyes squeezed shut.
Sirius threw you an amused look and you gave him an impatient one. You could tell he was playing with Moony and you didn’t like it one bit. Sirius, though, wasn’t one to stop things so easily, and he pulled you softly from your spot in between his legs and took it, placing both hands on Remus’ shoulders who just tensed even further. He leaned closer to his ear, “I’m asking you something, Remus.”
Remus didn’t reply, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching. You were about to pull Sirius back but he spoke again, “I’m asking because–” he tone was softer, the threatening tone from earlier fading into a more lewd one, “It’s okay of you do,” he whispered, and then pressed his lips to Remus’ tense shoulder. Remus’s eyes snapped open and he spotted you, you gave him a short smile, and then he felt Sirius’s lips pressed against him again, “because we both have the hots for you as well,” Sirius mumbled against his skin.
Remus swallowed thickly at that, and you could feel a familiar pulsing between your legs.
Remus pushed Sirius off, the other boy just stared at his friend with a smile, “don’t play with me, Black!” he warned, angry and steady.
“He’s not,” you interceeded. Sirius was a flirt, it was hard to believe him sometimes, but for you, who had been with him for a while, it was easy to see the shine in his eyes when he saw Remus, it wasn’t there when he saw other men. You walked over to Sirius and took hold of his arm, laying your head gently on his shoulder and allowing your entire front to be exposed to Remus. “The question is, Remus, do you like us back?”
Remus’ breath was caught in his throat, he wasn’t sure what to respond, could he even?
“And what does that mean?”
You shot Sirius a glance, there was a silent understanding between the two of you, a small nod from Sirius, and you walked closer to Remus, “It means we like hanging out with you,” you said softly and took a step towards him, “It means we like having you around, It means we like it when your eyes brighten as you speak of a new book you love and it means we love the way your hair falls on your face when you forget your umbrella and you borrow one of ours.” You were dangerously close to him now, “It means we like it when you stand close to us, it means we would like to touch you,” you placed a hand on his leg, and traced from his knee to the thick of his muscle, and left it there while making soft circles with your thumb.
“It means when we invited you to model for us we were being selfish, we wanted to have more of you than we normally did,” Sirius said, also walking closer, “It means I specifically had to wear bigger pants because I knew the moment I saw you naked along with her, my mind would roam, and take me back to my dreams.”
“Your dreams?” Remus asked as he gulped, gaze darting between your hand on his leg and Sirius approaching both of you.
“Our dreams,” you interceeded, having him turn back to look at your face. “The question is, Remus–“ You grabbed onto the basket and started to drag it away from him. “Do you want us? Or is this just a natural reaction?” you asked, nodding back to his hard cock, trying not to lick your lips as you did.
Sirius still hadn’t touched Remus, but he was standing so close he’d only have to lean in to kiss the boy’s neck. “I–“ Remus hesitated, and looked at Sirius, trying to find confirmation. He could barely believe what was going on, perhaps he had fallen asleep on your shoulder and this was just a figment of his eager imagination.
Sirius smiled and nodded down. His pants were big, but not big enough to hide the tent that had formed in his pants. Remus swallowed again. By now you had already discarded the basket of fruit, a couple of them rolling out and scattering on the floor with a loud thud. None of the three seemed to hear it, all of your gazes were firmly set on each other.
“It is real, Remus,” you said and leaned close enough to kiss his neck near the spot Sirius had kissed initially. You had wanted to do that while Sirius was sketching the two of you, and you took the chance to finally do it. Still, neither you nor Sirius had touched Remus’ cock, you wanted him to say yes before you did something irreparable. But unlike Sirius, you didn’t leave your kiss as a small innocent one, instead, you opened your mouth to his skin and started licking and sucking lightly.
A strangled moan escaped Remus’ lips. and you smiled, continuing to kiss him in the same way, eager to hear the sound again.
“Should we take that as a yes?” Sirius asked, voice raspy and low from how turned on he was at the sight of the two of you.
Remus let out a soft scoff, and then he pulled you from his neck, he hated the disappointed glance you had as he held your face in between his hands. Your eyes were blown with lust and your lips were wet from the kiss.
You swallowed, ready to pull apart but Remus dragged your head towards his and leaned in just enough to plant a desperate kiss on your lips. You were surprised at first but quickly melted into him, moaning as he dragged his demanding tongue over your lips, which only fueled him further, he wanted to hear those sounds, he wanted to hear the both of you make those sounds over and over again until he was deafened by them.
“Yes,” he whispered as he pulled apart, panting for air and dropping smaller kisses around your face, “bloody hell yes!” he insisted.
Sirius leaned in, and whispered on Moony’s ear, “Should have told us earlier.” He pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, but quickly moved down to kiss the boys jaw, “We’ve been dreaming about you for months.”
“Imagine my surprise when Sirius woke me up, panting your name,” you said, “I thought it was a nightmare until I felt how hard he was.”
Remus sighed and leaned his head on your shoulder as Sirius continued to kiss him, you took that as an opportunity to place your hand on his back again, allowing your fingers to feel and touch every single part of him that you hadn’t been able to touch earlier, and that you found absolutely stunning.
Another moan escaped Remus’ mouth when he felt your hand on his back, and Sirius smiled, the wicked smile of his and he pulled apart from his neck and easily sat on the table before moving behind Remus in a kneeling position, taking both of his shoulder and pulling him back from the hunch he’d been on. The sight of both boys almost set you on fire, Sirius noticed, he noticed almost everything.
“Moony, love,” he said as he leaned into the boy’s neck and allowed his hand to softly massage Remus’ back muscles, “Isn’t she stunning?”
You threw Sirius an inquisitive look and he just winked, he seemed to always know what to do.
“She is,” Remus breathed, eyes hooded as he allowed Sirius to touch him, clearly lost on him.
Sirius smiled, “I want you to touch her,” he said with a smirk, “touch her like you wanted to touch her when I was drawing the two of you behind the easel. I saw you looking at her, I saw the way your hands fought to stay in place.”
“Sirius,” Remus warned.
But Sirirus’ smirk only grew wider, he knew his words were sending both you and Remus into a state of absolute frenzy, all he’d have to do was push you into each other, “Touch her, I know she wants it as much as you do.”
Remus was hesitant, but he placed his hand on your shoulder and dragged you closer to the two of them in a soft pull. You looked up at him and smiled, squaring your shoulders and allowing him to see your almost throbbing nipples, desperate to be touched, and to be held by either of the two.
He was slow and hesitant, allowing his hand to fall from your shoulder to your arms, and then to your waist, and to the small of your back. Sirius placed a soft kiss just over Remus’ ear and then whispered, “Touch her, Remus, touch the place you’ve wanted to touch since you saw that little black bra of hers that makes me lose my mind.”
Remus breathed, he remembered the little piece perfectly, he allowed his hand to drag up, and let his thumb rest right under your breast, feeling the soft bounce of it and gently rubbing underneath, an innocent touch, almost a graze, nothing in comparison to the way Sirius would sometimes grab at them, and yet, it was just making you wetter. “Remus,” you whined as you leaned your head on his free shoulder. That seemed to be the fuel he needed to drag his hand even further up and allow his thumb to brush against your nipple. You clenched against nothing as he did, and moaned. He had a small scar tracing just around his thumb, the feeling of textures against your skin dragging you to heaven.
Sirius smiled at your reactions and started to kiss his neck. Which had Remus’ head tilt back in pleasure. That’s when you leaned your hand down again, eager to feel him, you were gentle and decided to give him enough time to stop you if he wanted, but the slow massaging of your hand towards his cock was only making Remus grow harder, a small droplet of precum already coming from his tip. He hadn’t even dared to dream of such a moment, and here you were, making it happen. When your hand finally wrapped around him he let out a breathy moan, his hand on your breast tightening. You smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder.
“May I?” you asked softly.
“Please,” he managed to say, Sirius chuckled at his neediness but Remus was quicker and pulled on his hair to drag him to his mouth. The longer-haired boy was surprised at first but quickly smirked into Remus’ demanding kiss, swallowing all the moans that would leave him as you slowly brushed your fingers over his cock. First, tracing a thin line from the bottom to the top, right over the pulsing vein. And then you wrapped your hand around him, firm but gentle, and rubbed the tip with your thumb.
Sirius pulled from the kiss that Remus chased into just to let you hear his moans and whispered, “Do you hear that, love?” he said as he placed a hand on Remus’ neck to keep his desperate lips from crashing against his mouth again. “You’re turning him into an animal.”
“We are,” you responded and tightened your grip around him, starting only now to gently stroke. You got to hear another moan from Moony before Sirius returned to kiss him. You leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder again, that place proving to be one of your favourite sports of the night, and started to trace kisses up his neck. You could feel his reactions in the way he would sometimes squeeze your breasts a little harder, or when he moved his hand down your waist. “And he makes such lovely sounds, doesn’t he?”
Sirius hummed in return, not daring to tear his lips away from the kiss.
Then you reached Remus’ ear. “If only you knew how wet you’re making me,” you whispered, a sly, fox-like smile appearing on your lips. Sirius threw you a side glance in between kisses and raised one of his eyebrows at you.
“Show him then,” he said before going back to kiss Remus, but using one of his hands to place it on the boy’s waist. “Pull back a little, Moons.”
Remus did as told, giving you enough space to be able to climb into the table as well, both legs on either side of one of his, and then slowly you let yourself down onto him, sighting at the feeling of his muscles against your sex. Remus gave you an encouraging squeeze on the waist, and that was enough for you to start grinding yourself onto his leg. Somehow, you managed to maintain the strokes on his cock as you rubbed onto him.
“Do you feel that, love?” Sirius asked as he broke the kiss to have the two of them look at you. You had your eyes closed and were focused on both your hips and hand movements. You felt Remus’ cock twitch, but you didn’t know it had been because he was looking at you. “Do you feel how wet you’ve made her?”
Remus looked at his glistening leg as you slid down and then up again, firmly pressing yourself against him, even if it was hard with the position you were in. He flexed his muscles and he felt your hand tremble in his cock, “She’s so pretty, Pads. You get to see her like this all the time?”
Sirius chuckled and decided to kiss Remus’ neck, so they could both continue delighting at the sight of you riding his leg. Remus seemed hesitant at first, but he dragged his hand down to your waist and towards your leg. Clearly giving in to the temptation to touch.
“Go ahead, she likes it,” Sirius encouraged in a chuckle and Remus didn’t think twice. You stiffened when you felt his hand brush against you as you pushed yourself into him, now opening your eyes to figure out whose hand had been bold enough. You smirked when you realised who it had been.
“Still curious?” you asked and pushed yourself towards his hand again.
Remus didn’t speak, instead, he focused on brushing his fingers over your folds which had you sight in content. But Remus was slightly hesitant as if he wasn’t sure how to touch you properly. When Sirius realised the lack of moans, he decided he’d help. He placed a quick kiss on Remus’ temple and then moved behind him again. Allowing one of his hands to rest on Moony’s neck and then using the other to trace his arm until he reached the hesitant hand still brushing against your sensitive spots.
“Like this,” he said as he took hold of his hand and started making his movements more determined. You moaned at the new, more purposeful touch, and Sirius’ smirk grew. “Slow and determined,” he instructed. Remus himself found your clit after that, and he gently pressed his finger over it, testing.
“Fuck do that again,” you managed to whisper as you leaned your head on his shoulder again, Sirius placed a soft comforting kiss on your temple, your hands on Remus’ cock becoming dumber as the pleasure consumed you.
Remus did as told, and you moved your hips towards his fingers almost instinctively. “Such a fast learner,” Sirius praised, and you’d swear you saw Remus inflate slightly at his words.
“Yeah, Moony!” you sighed, voice mellow, something in between words and a moan. “You’re amazing,” you added as you kissed his neck, chasing all the way to his mouth. The hand that Sirius used to teach him, had long forgotten its purpose and had somehow found its way to your breast, pinching and squeezing like he knew you loved. His lips glued to Moony’s neck in the meantime.
Moony pressed a tentative finger to your entrance, you smiled into the kiss, and pushed into him, he bit your lips as his finger dug inside you, “Fuck,” he whispered into your mouth, “so tight.” You clenched around him, as you pulled from the kiss and brushed the tip of his cock with your thumb, you were eager to hear another one of those melodic moans of his. And you did, reeling on the power he had given you before going back to kiss him.
“She is Moony, it’ll feel insane around your cock too, I promise,” Sirius whispered to his ear. If you had been thinking properly, you might have swatted him for assuming how things would end, but the idea of having Remus’ cock inside of you only made you wetter, your hips chasing his finger a little more desperate as you used it to chase your own pleasure.
Remus used his free hand to take yours from his cock and placed it on his shoulder since he knew that would help you be a little more steady, he missed your touch, but the moans he pulled from you were enough compensation. He went for another finger and you moaned at how much more full you felt. Remus had longer fingers than Sirius did, and the scars added a layer of textures that you had never felt before but that you could easily get used to.
His touch was much more curious and soft than Sirius’ had been the first time, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t aiding you into a state of absolute bliss. Sirius, ever the clever, figured out you were close in a second. He pulled Moony deeper into the table, pulling you along with him, took off his shirt and moved behind you. Both of his tights around yours, Moony’s in between. He pressed himself onto you allowing you to feel his warm and slightly sweaty skin. You could feel his boner pressing onto your ass which had you sight in pleasure.
“How’s that, my love,” he said. “Do you like having Moony’s hand all over you? His fingers inside?”
“Sirius,” you sighed. His hands were now on your hips, helping you ride Moony’s fingers with much more ease. Moony’s fingers got faster, and you could feel Sirius holding back from dry humping you from behind, his hips sometimes chasing against your ass, you had neglected him a little. “Like that,” you managed to whisper once Remus did a particular movement, a flick of his finger, and he instantly repeated it.
“She’s close Moony,” Sirius warmed as he felt you tense, he moved his hands on your body reassuringly, but in the way that he knew you loved, you tensed, tightening around Remus’ fingers, and then let out a long, and quiet moan. “There you go,” Sirius added softly as he brushed his fingers over your leg, both of them helping you ride down from your high. Eventually, Remus took his fingers from inside you and placed a reassuring hand on your leg. You closed your eyes, head still pressed onto his shoulder as you breathed in, Remus had always smelled delightful, but you’d swear he smelled even better today.
You then reached your hand down but Sirius beat you to it, “My turn,” he said as he pushed you closer to Remus and took a hold of his cock. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked Remus with a smile, knowing well his answer.
Remus gulped and shook his head, which had Sirius smile like a wolf and start playing around with his friend’s cock. He clearly knew what he was doing much better than you did since he had Remus panting and moaning a lot faster than you had. He also had you firmly pressed against Remus as he touched him, if you had wanted to –which you obviously didn’t– you wouldn’t be likely to get out in between the two. Still, you busied yourself with kissing Remus’ neck again, that spot that you seemed to be addicted to.
Remus sighed, and you started to brush your hands all over his body, moaning and grunting growing louder. Sirius felt his friend’s cock twitch in his hand and he knew he was close, so he stopped. Remus gave him a pleading look but he pulled his hand back completely and the you along with him. You didn’t realise what was going on until you saw Remus’ throbbing cock and confused look.
“Sirius!” you reprimanded. Remus seemed to be struggling to form proper words.
“He won’t get to fuck you if he comes into my hand,” Sirius responded then leaned his head into your shoulder and looked at Remus with a knowing pout. “Would you rather come into my hand than feel her tight little pussy around you, Moons?”
Remus scoffed. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting by getting sexually involved with Sirius Black, but he should have fucking expected this kind of behaviour.
Sirius smiled, “How about we help him cool down a little but keep him hard, darling?”
You leaned your head back onto Sirius, opening your legs a little for Remus to get a better view of your glistening sex. “What do you like, Remus?” You asked in the most innocent tone. As if you were asking about the taste of ice cream he preferred and not the kind of shit that turned him on.
But frankly, neither you nor Sirius would have to do anything special to turn him on, he already pretty much worshipped you. Remus was still at a loss of words, he stared at both of you, then down between your legs and then up at your faces again.
“Do you want me to eat her out?” Sirius asked as he tilted his head.
“Or would you rather see me blow him?”
“Cowgirl?”
“Doggie?”
Remus was sure that if you didn’t stop you, you might just list the entire kamasutra before he made a choice, “anything.”
You tsked and shook your head, “No, Moons, that’s not the deal,” you replied. “What do you want?”
Again, he saw you tense and relax between your legs as you asked him, and he didn’t miss the smirk that drew on your lips when he started. “I want” –he hesitated– “touch him.”
“Your wish is my command,” you said with a smirk and instantly turned to Sirius, making sure to have him spin around enough so that you wouldn’t have Remus just look at your back, although he would have been more than happy staring at the way your ass moved.
“Did you hear that, Pads?”
Sirius hummed in response as he helped you accommodate, you were now cradling him. You first went for a kiss, soft, but demanding, as you two kissed, you lowered one of your hands and gripped Sirius over his pants. He moaned into your mouth and you pulled back from the kiss, no matter how addictive his lips were, you wanted Remus to hear his precious moans as well.
Remus’ hands were itching to go back to his cock when he heard Sirius’ moan. He was too pretty, both of you were, he could still barely believe what was happening, but he sure loved every bit of it. “Help me get this off,” you said as you turned to Remus and pressed your hands onto Sirius’ belt.
He raised his eyebrows amused and you gave him a short wink. He did as told. Leaning in closer and unbuckling the belt before sliding it off Sirius who was a moaning mess since your hand was still on him. Once Remus managed to move the button off, you were quick to digg your hand in and Sirius raised his hips a little to take it off along with his boxers.
Remus’ cock twitched when he saw Sirius’ hard and proud. He wanted to touch it as much as he wanted to see you touch it, but he wasn’t sure Sirius would want him to touch it so instead he moved his desperate hand to the boy’s neck. You smiled at that and brushed yourself against him, passing his cock over your folds a few times to coat him with your wetness before gripping at him securely.
“Sto–p teasing,” Sirius managed to say, and you laughed, placing a soft kiss to his cheek before wrapping your hand around him and starting to stroke. Remus seemed fascinated by the way you moved your hand on Pads, like you knew exactly what he wanted when he moaned or moved his hips slightly to the side. At some point Sirius started to chase your hand with his hips as well but Remus placed his hand on his legs to keep him down. Sirius turned to the boy with a frown and Remus smirked.
“I said I wanted her to touch you, not for you to fuck her hand,” he replied in a low tone.
You giggled at the stifled moan that left Sirius’ lips when Moony said that, and continued with your strokes, turning your wrist so you had a bit more control and toying with the tip whenever your thumb got close enough to it.
“Close,” Sirius breathed and you smiled, looking at Moony with a small smirk before pulling back a little from both of them but still stroking. Then you pulled further down and Sirius almost came in your hands at the mere image of what you were about to do. You pressed a kiss to kiss your stomach, and gently lowered down, allowing your nipples to brush over his cock causing him to shudder.
You licked your lips before going down and pressing a soft and gentle kiss over his tip, you could feel the blood rushing and his cock twitching. You then pressed your tongue to him and Sirius let out a low, almost imperceptible groan. The first, soft splurt of his cum fell on the outside of your mouth before you wrapped your lips around him and sucked the rest of him dry. By the time you were done, Sirius was panting and gripping onto Remus’ leg as he attempted to catch a breath. You raised yourself back up to look at them both.
You opened your mouth to show you had yet to swallow it all and then turned to Remus, “Want a taste?”
Sirius was already sore, and yet when Moony nodded and pulled you in for a desperate kiss, he swore he felt himself twitch again. In a matter of seconds, you had climbed onto his lap, leaning into the kiss and only pulling apart to see his reaction, a line of spit still connected the two of you as smirked.
“Fuck,” Sirius said in a low moan at the sight.
“How was it?” you asked as you bit your lip.
Remus tilted his head and dragged your hips to his, “Is not over yet, is it?”
“I meant the taste,” you replied as you rolled your hips on his cock.
He licked his lips, and laid his head on your shoulder as he looked at Sirius. “Fucking delicious,” he said.
You pressed a soft kiss to his neck. “Bet,” you added before rolling your hips against his again. “Ready?”
“Mhm.”
“Good,” you said, and then lifted yourself, brushing on his cock a couple of times before bringing your hand down to it, brushing his tip on you, making sure to brush your clit, and then slowly, sinking yourself onto him.
You breathed out as you did, getting used to his size, and he waited patiently for you to finish.
“You all right?” he asked softly.
You let out a breathy “Yeah.”
“Tell me when I can start moving.” You squeezed your walls around him. “Fuck–“
Sirius laughed from the side and placed a hand on Remus’ arm, “Did I not mention she has a tendency to do that? I almost came the first time she did it to me.”
You squeezed again and then started to move, slow and steady at first, Remus was a groaning mess again and it only fueled your resolve to continue moving and squeezing, eventually, his hips started thrusting up into yours and your movements seemed to synchronise.
“Touch her too,” Sirius suggested and Remus did as told, quickly bringing one the hands that rested on your waist to your clit. You started to roll your hips so you could increase the pressure and he helped by moving his finger closer.
“Is that good?”
“Fuck yes,” you responded.
You continued for a while, and you felt Remus get extremely close, if his moaning indicated anything but then he stopped thrusting into you and you slowed your pace with a questioning frown.
“Can…” he panted. “Can I try something?”
You nodded in return and Remus smiled, he pulled you up with his hands on your waist –his cock still inside you– and flipped you around, now your back was laying on Sirius’ chest and you could feel his semi-hard on your ass.
“Moony what are you–“ he started but was shut up by a kiss as he thrusted into you. Both the kiss and your asscheeks brushing onto him had Sirius harden even more as Remus thrust in and out of you.
“Touch her the way she likes,” he said to Sirius in between kisses and the other boy did exactly that, chasing in between the entanglement of bodies until he found your clit, tentatively, he brushed his hand down to feel where Remus and your body connected and Remus moaned at the feeling of Sirius’ hands on him again. “I said touch her,” he added with a sigh, “I want her to come again.”
Sirius smiled and pressed a short kiss to Remus’ lips. “Your wish is my command.”
Seconds later Sirius’ expert fingers were on you, brushing and circling your clit the way that made you brainless, your ass pressed onto his cock and Remus rutting into you quickly made you feel absolute bliss.
“I’m about to–“
“She as well,” Sirius said as he felt the way you moved on top of him.
Remus reeled at the thought and groaned out as he started to come, he tried to pull out but Sirius was quick to keep him in place. “She’s taking something,” he said simply, and that was enough for Remus to allow your walls to milk him. As he did, Sirius was fast with his hand and you were cumming on Remus’ cock, squeezing him even more as his pace started to slow down.
Sirius, who was already sore, came for the second time that night a little after, surprising you since you were not expecting to feel the sticky wetness against your ass.
Remus felt it too, since part of it spluttered all the way to his legs and he looked at Sirius with a mildly impressed stare.
“You two are fucking hot,” he said, unapologetically. Remus pushed into you a couple more times and then he allowed his weight to fall on both of you.
“Too heavy?” he managed to ask.
“No,” you said as you accommodated your head next to Sirius’ and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. He sighed in contentment.
Eventually, Remus drew himself out of you and then pulled back from his position on top and instead laid with his back against the table. He bit his lip, “I guess you’ll have to find another model.”
“No way in hell we’re ever gonna look for another model,” you said with a laugh, also rolling from Sirius and letting yourself fall right in between the two of them, “Moony’s just perfect, isn’t he?”
“Thought you couldn’t paint someone you’d fucked…” he breathed.
Sirius laughed, “Well, they don’t have to know we’re a thing…”
Remus felt so many emotions at once, you were a thing, but also Sirius doesn't want people to know.
“…until after we’ve handed in the paintings, and gotten our grades,” he added with a cheeky smile.
“Besides, the sun is gone,” you added. “We’ll have to come back another day.”
“Didn’t you mention a sunlamp or something?” Remus asked.
“We’ll have to come another day,” you repeated with a smirk. And Remus gave you an impressed look.
“Do you guys have anything to do?” Sirius asked.
You shook your head and Remus said a quick “No.”
“Why?” you asked.
“I think Prongs is sleeping over at Reggie’s.”
“Is he now?” Remus questioned.
“I thought we could have a sleepover of our own.”
You scoffed a laugh, of sleep, it wouldn’t have much.
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#the marauders era#the marauders x you#the marauders x y/n#the marauders fandom#marauders x reader#the marauders x reader#the marauders smut#marauders smut#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#sirius black#moony#remus lupin smut#sirius black smut#remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#sirius x reader#sirius black x reader#moony x reader#poly!marauders x reader#poly marauders x reader#poly!marauders smut#wolfstar x you#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar x y/n#wolfstar
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It’s the Sunday Free-For-All!
I thought for a change, I would try to choose my favorite supporting character. Some episodes are more character/mystery driven, and others are more relationship-driven. Those would be my favorites, but it’s especially enjoyable when supporting characters are written and cast with such care.
I’m having a hard time picking only one. “Sway” is a contender. All of those Burridges staff are fabulous, as is the guy who plays Joey Lisk. The piano tuner is fabulous. It’s really an embarrassment of riches.
The only reason I’m not choosing it is I think “Fugue“ sinks or swims based on the guy who plays Cronyn/Gull; plus the brother and sister are truly well realized. She’s not the most exciting character in the world, but her performance is lovely, and it’s a terrific counterpoint to the sort of creepy/tormented genius that her brother brings to the table. I think he was probably more of a red herring that got edited down, but between the three of them, it’s a winner for me.
On the other hand, how fantastic is it to not just have Danny Webb back as Lott, but have him back in such a disgustingly vile way in “Exeunt”? Now, the guy is really a movie star. He’s been in everything, for God’s sake…his charisma leaps through the screen. He’s more of a guest star than a supporting actor, but every moment he’s on screen is a joy.
Or is it David Oakes as Joss Bixby? If fanfiction is any thing to gauge reaction by, this is clearly the winner.
Who do you pick? I can’t choose. I could’ve kept going, frankly. 
#sunday free for all#supporting actor Sunday#David Oakes#Danny Webb#mason gull#Arthur Lott#endeavour morse#itv endeavour#endeavour itv#joss bixby#Endeavour: sway#endeavour: ride#Endeavour: fugue#endeavour: exeunt#Geoffrey Streatfeild#burridges#epic acting#our beautiful onion#our beautiful show
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You had me at the S3 messy hair...
And I like "Suit Yourself Sunday." Guys?
#itv endeavour#endeavour morse#shaun evans#endeavour: ride#Shaun Sunday Special#Suit Yourself Sunday#S3 messy hair
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An essay on Furiosa, the politics of the Wasteland, Arthurian literature and realistic vs. formalistic CGI
Mad Max: Fury Road absolutely enraptured me when it came out nearly a decade ago, and I will cop to seeing it four times at the theatre. For me (and many others who saw the light of George Miller) it set new standards for action filmmaking, storytelling and worldbuilding, and I could pop in its Blu Ray at any time and never get tired of it. Perhaps not surprisingly, I was deeply apprehensive about the announced prequel for Fury Road's actual main character, Furiosa, even if Miller was still writing and directing. We didn't need backstory for Furiosa—hell, Fury Road is told in such a way that NOTHING in it requires explicit backstory. And since it focuses on the Yung Furiosa, it meant Charlize Theron couldn't return with another career-defining performance. Plus, look at all that CGI in the trailer, it can't be as good as Fury Road.
Turns out I was silly to doubt George Miller, M.D., A.O., writer and director of Babe: Pig in the City and Happy Feet One & Two.
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is excellent, and I needn't have worried about it not being as good as Fury Road because it is not remotely trying to be Fury Road. Fury Road is a lean, mean machine with no fat on it, nothing extraneous, operating with constant forward momentum and only occasionally letting up to let you breathe a little; Furiosa is a classical epic, sprawling in scope, scale and structure, and more than happy to let the audience simmer in a quiet, almost painfully still moment. If its opening spoken word sequence by that Gandalf of the Wastes himself, the First History Man, didn't already clue you in, it unfolds like something out of myth, a tale told over and over again and whose possible embellishments are called attention to in the dialogue itself. Where Fury Road scratched the action nerd itch in my head like you wouldn't believe, Furiosa was the equivalent of Miller giving the undulating folds of my English major brain a deep tissue massage. That's great! I, for one, love when sequels/prequels endeavour to be fundamentally different movies from what they're succeeding/preceding, operating in different modes, formats and even genres, and more filmmakers should aim for it when building on an existing series.
This movie has been on my mind so much in the past week that I've ended up dedicating several cognitive processes to keeping track of all of the different ponderings it's spawned. Thankfully, Furiosa is divided into chapters (fun fact: putting chapter cards in your movie is a quick way to my heart), so it only seems fitting that I break up all of these cascading thoughts accordingly.
1. The Pole of Inaccessibility
Furiosa herself actually isn't the protagonist for the first chapter of her own movie, instead occupying the role of a (very crafty and resourceful) damsel in distress for those initial 30-40 minutes. The real hero of the opening act, which plays out like a game of cat and mouse, is Furiosa's mother Mary Jabassa, who rides out into the wasteland first on horseback and then astride a motorcycle to track down the band of raiders that has stolen away her daughter. Mary's brought to life by Miller and Nico Lathouris' economical writing and a magnetic performance by newcomer Charlee Fraser, who radiates so much screen presence in such relatively little time and with one of those instant "who is SHE??" faces. She doesn't have many lines, but who needs them when Fraser can convey volumes about Mary with just a flash of her eyes or the effortless way she swaps out one of her motorcycle's wheels for another. To be quite candid, I'm not sure of the last time I fell in love with a character so quickly.
You notice a neat aesthetic contrast between mother and daughter in retrospect: Mary Jabassa darts into the desert barefoot, clad in a simple yet elegant dress, her wolf cut immaculate, only briefly disguising herself with the ugly armour of a raider she just sniped, and when she attacks it's almost with grace, like some Greek goddess set loose in the post-apocalyptic Aussie outback with just her wits and a bolt-action rifle; we track Furiosa's growth over the years by how much of her initially conventional beauty she has shed, quite literally in one case (hair buzzed, severed arm augmented with a chunky mechanical prosthesis, smeared in grease and dirt from head to toe, growling her lines at a lower octave), and by how she loses her mother's graceful approach to movement and violence, eventually carrying herself like a blunt instrument. Yet I have zero doubt the former raised the latter, both angels of different feathers but with the same steel and resolve. Of fucking course this woman is Furiosa's mother, and in the short time we know her we quickly understand exactly why Furiosa has the drive and morals she does without needing to resort to didactic exposition.
Anyway, I was tearing up by the end of the first chapter. Great start!
2. Lessons from the Wasteland
Most movies—most stories, really—don't actually tell the entire narrative from A to Z. Perhaps the real meat of the thing is found from H to T, and A-G or U-Z are unnecessary for conveying the key narrative and themes. So many prequels fail by insisting on telling the A-G part of the story, explaining how the hero earned a certain nickname or met their memorable sidekick—but if that stuff was actually interesting, they likely would have included it in the original work. The greatest thing a prequel can actually do is recontextualize, putting iconic characters or moments in a new light, allowing you to appreciate them from a different angle. All of season 2 of Fargo serves to explain why Molly Solverson's dad is appropriately wary when Lorne Malvo enters his diner for a SINGLE SCENE in the show's first season. David's arc from the Alien prequels Prometheus and Covenant—polarizing as those entries are—adds another layer to why Ash is so protective of the creature in the first movie. Andor gives you a sense of what it's like for a normal, non-Jedi person to live under the boot of the Empire and why so many of them would join up with the Rebel Alliance—or why they would desire to wear that boot, or even just crave the chance to lick it.
Furiosa is one of those rare great prequels because it makes us take a step back and consider the established world with a little more nuance, even if it's still all so absurd. In Fury Road, Immortan Joe is an awesome, endlessly quotable villain, completely irredeemable, and basically a cartoon. He works perfectly as the antagonist of that breakneck, Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote-ass movie, but if you step outside of its adrenaline-pumping narrative for even a moment you risk questioning why nobody in the Citadel or its surrounding settlements has risen up against him before. Hell, why would Furiosa even work for him to begin with? But then you see Dementus and company tear-assing around the wasteland, seizing settlements and running them into the ground, and you realize Joe and his consortium offer something that Dementus reasonably can't: stability—granted, an unwavering, unchangeable stability weighted in favour of Joe's own brutal caste system, but stability nonetheless. It really makes you wonder, how badly does a guy have to suck to make IMMORTAN JOE of all people look like a sane, competent and reasonable ruler by comparison?!?
…and then they open the door to the vault where he keeps his wives, and in a flash you're reminded just how awful Joe is and why Furiosa will risk her life to help some of these women flee from him years later. This new context enriches Joe and makes it more believable that he could maintain power for so long, but it doesn't make him any less of a monster, and it says a lot about Furiosa's hate for Dementus that she could grit her teeth and work for this sick old tyrant.
3. The Stowaway
Here's another wild bit of trivia about this movie: you don't actually see top-billed actress Anya Taylor-Joy pop up on screen until roughly halfway through, once Furiosa is in her late teens/early twenties. Up until this point she's been played by Alyla Browne, who through the use of some seamless and honestly really impressive CGI has been given Anya's distinctive bug eyes [complimentary]. It's one of those bold choices that really works because Miller commits to it so hard, though it does make me wish Browne's name was up on the poster next to Taylor-Joy's.
Speaking of CGI, I should talk about what seems to be a sticking point for quite a few people: if there's been one consistent criticism of Furiosa so far, it's that it doesn't look nearly as practical or grounded as Fury Road, with more obvious greenscreen and compositing, and what previously would've been physical stunt performers and pyrotechnics have been replaced with their digital equivalents for many shots. Simply put, it doesn't look as real! For a lot of people, that practicality was one of Fury Road's primary draws, so I won't try to quibble if they're let down by Furiosa's overt artificiality, but to be honest I'm actually quite fine with it. It helps that this visual discrepancy doesn't sneak up on you but is incredibly apparent right from the aerial zoom-down into Australia in the very first scene, so I didn't feel misled or duped.
Fury Road never asks you to suspend your disbelief because it all looks so believable; Furiosa jovially prods you to suspend that disbelief from the get-go and tune into it on a different wavelength. It's a classical epic, and like the classical epics of the 1950s and 60s it has a lot of actors standing in front of what clearly are matte paintings. It feels right! We're not watching fact, we're watching myth. I'm willing to concede there might be a little bit of post-hoc rationalization on my part because I simply love this movie so much, but I'm not holding the effects in Furiosa to the same standard as those in Fury Road because I simply don't believe Miller and his crew are attempting to replicate that approach. Without the extensive CGI, we don't get that impressive long, panning take where a stranded Furiosa scans the empty, dust-and-sun-scoured wasteland (75% Sergio Leone, 25% Andrei Tarkovsky), or the Octoboss and his parasailing goons. For the sake of intellectual exercise I did try imagining them filming the Octoboss/war rig sequence with the same immersive practical approach they used for Fury Road's stunts, however I just kept picturing dead stunt performers, so perhaps the tradeoff was worth it!
4. Homeward
Around the same time we meet the Taylor-Joy-pilled Furiosa in Chapter 3, we're introduced to Praetorian Jack, the chief driver for the convoys running between the Citadel and its allied settlements. Jack's played by Tom Burke, who pulled off a very good Orson Welles in Mank! and who I should really check out in The Souvenir one of these days. He's also a cool dude! Here are some facts about Praetorian Jack:
He's decked out in road leathers with a pauldron stitched to one shoulder
He's stoic and wary, but still more or less personable and can carry on a conversation
Professes to a certain cynicism, to quote Special Agent Albert Rosenfield, but ultimately has a capacity for kindness and will do the right thing
Shoots a gun real good
Can drive like nobody's business
So in other words, Jack is Mad Max. But also, no, he clearly isn't! He looks and dresses like Mad Max (particularly Mel Gibson's) and does a lot of the same things "Mad" Max Rockatansky does, but he's also very explicitly a distinct character. It's a choice that seems inexplicable and perhaps even lazy on its face, except this is a George Miller movie, so of course this parallel is extremely purposeful. Miller has gone on record saying he avoids any kind of strict chronology or continuity for his Mad Max movies, compared to the rigid canons for Star Trek and Star Wars, and bless him for doing so. It's more fun viewing each Mad Max entry as a new revision or elaboration on a story being told again and again generations after the fall, mutating in style, structure and focus with every iteration, becoming less grounded as its core narrative is passed from elder to youth, community to community, genre to genre, until it becomes myth. (At least, my English major brain thinks it's more fun.) In fact there's actually something Arthurian to it, where at first King Arthur was mentioned in several Welsh legends before Geoffrey of Monmouth crafted an actual narrative around him, then Chrétien de Troyes added elements like Lancelot and infused the stories with more romance, and then with Le Morte d'Arthur Thomas Malory whipped the whole cycle together into one volume, which T.H. White would chop and screw and deconstruct with The Once and Future King centuries later.
All this to say: maybe Praetorian Jack looks and sounds and acts like Max because he sorta kinda basically is, being just one of many men driving back and forth across the wasteland, lending a hand on occasion, who'll be conflated into a single, legendary "Mad Max" at some point down the line in a different History Man's retelling of Furiosa's odyssey. Sometimes that Max rips across the desert in his V8 Interceptor, other times driving a big rig. Perhaps there's a dog tagging along and/or a scraggly and at first aggravating ally played by Bruce Spence or Nicholas Hoult. Usually he has a shotgun. But so long as you aren't trying to kill him, he'll help you out.
5. Beyond Vengeance
The Mad Max movies have incredibly iconic villains—Immortan Joe! Toecutter! the Lord Humongous!—but they are exactly that, capital V Villains devoid of humanizing qualities who you can't wait to watch bad things happen to. Furiosa appears to continue this trend by giving us a villain who in fact has a mustache long enough that he could reasonably twirl it if he so wanted, but ironically Dementus ends up being the most layered antagonist in the entire series, even moreso than the late Tina Turner's comparatively benevolent Aunty Entity from Beyond Thunderdome. And because he's played by Chris Hemsworth, whose comedic delivery rivals his stupidly handsome looks, you lock in every time he's on screen.
Something so fascinating about Dementus is that, for a main antagonist, he's NOT all-powerful, and in fact quite the opposite: he's more conman than warlord, looking for the next hustle, the next gullible crowd he can preach to and dupe—though never for long. For all his bluster, at every turn he finds himself in way over his head and writing cheques he can't cash, and this self-induced Sisyphean torment makes him riveting to watch. You're tempted to pity Dementus but it's also quite difficult to spare sympathy for someone who's so quick to channel their rage and hurt and ego into thoughtless, burn-it-all-down destruction. When you're not laughing at him, you're hating his guts, and it's indisputably the best work of Chris Hemsworth's career.
It's in this final chapter that everything naturally comes to a head: Furiosa's final evolution into the character we meet at the start of Fury Road, the predictable toppling of Dementus' precariously built house of cards, and the mythmaking that has been teased since the very first scene becoming diagetic text, the last of which allows the movie to thoroughly explore the themes of vengeance it's been building to. A brief war begins, is summarized and is over in the span of roughly a minute, and on its face it's a baffling narrative choice that most other filmmakers would have botched. But our man Miller's smart enough to recognize that the result of this war is the most foregone of conclusions if you've been paying even the slightest bit of attention, so he effectively brushes past it to get to the emotional heart of the climax and an incredible "Oh shit!" payoff that cements Miller as one of mainstream cinema's greatest sickos.
Fury Road remains the greatest Mad Max film, but Furiosa might be the best thing George Miller has ever made. If not his magnum opus, it does at least feel like his dissertation, and it makes me wish Warner Bros. puts enough trust in him despite Furiosa's poor box office performance that he's able to make The Wasteland. Absolutely ridiculous that a man just short of his 80th birthday was able to pull this off, and with it I feel confident calling him one of my favourite directors.
#furiosa: a mad max saga#mad max#mad max: Fury road#furiosa#imperator furiosa#george miller#mary jabassa#dementus#praetorian jack#immortan joe#max rockatansky#analysis#essay#anya taylor-joy#chris hemsworth#charlee fraser#tom burke#charlize theron#continuity#canon#arthurian literature#arthurian mythology#the matter of britain#king arthur#alyla browne
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