#he’s got that smoldering intensity going on a dangerous kind of sexy

[thinwhitedoc]

THE RESPONDER | Martin Freeman as Chris Carson

[namfine]

◎ | 𝕿𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖆 : 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕨𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 | ◎

Envy is a desire to have a quality, possession, or other desirable attribute belonging to someone else.

                                           - - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

ζ  pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

ζ  word count: 4.5k

ζ  summary:   he can’t stand how those men’s eyes are on you, how they send you money with the few clicks of a button as you show your body off to them, as you touch yourself for them. You have given your body to others too many times, and it is displeasing him. It isn’t fair that they have gotten to see you before he has; you should belong to him and him only.

ζ   tags: 18+, jungkook x fem!reader, unsafe sex, camgirl situation, possessive sex

ζ  part: 6 of 7 of our Seven Deadly Sins Milestone Challenge.

⋫ Link to Master List here

ζ   a/n: oh hey guys! i hope you enjoy the 6th part of our deadly sins era!! it’s my boy, jungkook, as we all know i am the Biggest Slut Ever for him. i hope this answers some questions~

~admin tart｡･:*:･ﾟ’★

It was what you did after school, after work. How you helped pay the electricity bills, the car insurance. All it took was some sexy outfits and toys, plus some good technology, and you had a sizable amount of men tied around your perfectly manicured finger. Some might give you a hard time for it, since it wasn’t considered ‘respectable’ work, but all you had to do was touch yourself and the dings came through like a melody, men giving you their money. The sound got almost intoxicating after some time. It wasn’t something you wanted to do for the rest of your life, but... for the moment, it wasn’t terrible. 

After a particularly good session, you were cleaning up, still wearing your novelty ‘bad girl’ lingerie, complete with red teddy lace bodysuit, simple ruby necklace, and shiny red devil horns. You had come twice during the session and raked in a solid $600; you were putting your toys onto a towel so that you could properly disinfect them when the door burst open, and your eyes flew open as you realized that your friend, Jungkook, had just entered your room. 

You had known Jungkook for a few months, and you felt completely at ease with him. He didn’t know about what you did to earn extra money, but that was mostly because you had always felt as if the two of you had some sort of tension. The tension itself shifted and changed--when he saw you with other men, he always seemed...jealous, or envious. He would act passive aggressive and try to scare them off, which was...kind of hot, if you were being honest. 

Jungkook himself was an incredibly attractive man, with broad, muscular shoulders, a nicely tapered waist, and corded thighs that made you drool. His dark hair was long, waving around his face and falling into his eyes more often than not, but was brushed aside with long agile tattooed fingers. And those eyes, fuck, those gorgeous dark eyes, usually so big and sparkly, but were right now fixated on you, dragging over your body.

His gaze took in your outfit, the toys, your phone on a tripod, and your laptop open to a live streaming website. It didn’t take him long to connect the dots, and while you were expecting some sort of shaming, you didn't ever anticipate the anger and...some other emotion that flickered over his face. 

“So this is what you do after work,” he said softly, taking a step towards you. His dark eyes looked bottomless, like if you stared for too long you might trip and drown in the depths, so you glanced away, trying to ignore how his intense gaze had a small shiver going down your spine. 

“As if it wasn’t enough that they all…” he started and then shook his head, jaw clenching. You had never been afraid of Jungkook before, and you weren’t about to start, but the way it seemed like he was barely holding himself back...like the tiniest thing could make him snap...it was new to you.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome to you.

“They all...what, Jungkook?” you asked, commending yourself for keeping your voice steady. But he ignored you, simply dragging his eyes over your outfit, his gaze ending where your simple necklace rested; it was a pretty ruby necklace, something you had owned forever, but you had no idea where you had gotten it. Every time people asked, you said different things--oh, it was a gift, it was from a garage sale, you had just found it. 

As soon as his eyes fell upon the necklace, his expression grew even darker, if that was possible. The tension in the room thickened as he began to walk towards you, hands twitching by his sides. Even though you knew he would never hurt you, your body still tensed, readying yourself for what was going to happen next.

Even in his irritation, he took slow, calculated steps towards you, his eyes flicking over to your dresser where you had your hand mirror and a bottle of wine. The handmirror was gold with rubies all around the glass area; even if you didn’t remember where it was from, it was gorgeous and you often looked in it to calm yourself down when you got angry. With a scowl, Jungkook picked up the mirror, examining it before calmly smashing it against your dresser. The sound of the glass shattering was loud in the tense quiet of the room, and you couldn’t help but jump a bit.

“Jungkook--!” you exclaimed, shocked at his sudden burst of anger, but he didn’t let you continue, turning the spider-webbed surface towards you. All you could see was your own reflection, disjointed and cracked, separating your face and causing an odd effect where you could see several different parts of your face at once. 

“You don’t remember this? A broken mirror?” 

But then, for a split second, where your eyes were supposed to be, you caught a flash of red, eyes creased in obvious amusement, eyes that were not your own. 

Then they were gone, and you were left wondering what the hell was going on, and why your head hurt so suddenly. With a dark chuckle, Jungkook tossed the broken mirror onto the ground before using the heel of his boot to step on it, crunching the bright pieces under his foot. 

“Or what about this, some fancy wine that was shittily made--stupid LeVeyan--” and before you could say anything, he had thrown the wine into the corner of the room. Surprisingly, the bottle itself didn’t shatter, just clanked against the wall with a deep thunking noise. The scowl on Jungkook’s face deepened, as if he had wanted the bottle to completely explode. Which, guessing by the way he was acting, was exactly why he was angry. Because it didn’t. 

“You really don’t remember all these shitty knickknacks you have? Why the fuck would you have an hourglass, Y/N? You into vintage shit?” and with that, Jungkook’s fingers seized the old hourglass you kept next to your jewelry box, his hand wrapping around it, fingers pale against the black, shiny sand inside. It felt like time slowed as his arm lifted up, still holding the hourglass, and arced downwards like molasses, sending the hourglass smashing into the ground. A shard flew across the room, nicking your ankle slightly. You felt the sand on your toes, smelled lavender, and before you knew it, you were taking a stumbling step backwards, suddenly dizzy. Before you could fall, though, Jungkook was in front of you, so fast you didn’t even see him move. But he caught you by the lower back and yanked you towards him, so big and hot and powerful. 

“And now we have all the time in the world,” he breathed, leaning in, his moist breath fanning out across your lips. His fingers touched your cheek, tracing downwards, before they continued down your neck. With a quick snap, Jungkook ripped your necklace off your neck, causing a slight prick of pain at the back of your neck. Dangling it up in between the two of you, Jungkook gave you a big, smug smile before saying, “He’ll probably want this back.”

All of Jungkook’s cryptic comments had your uneasiness melting away and irritation settling in, prickling against your skin with all the stings of a thousand bees. The way he was acting was annoying, as if he knew something you didn’t, as if you belonged to him.

“Is all this because I showed my tits on camera?” you asked, your voice scalding now. “Because people, other men, liked my body enough that they sent me hundreds of dollars, that they beg me for extra content, that they sing my praises?” 

It felt weird to be bragging at first, but the more you did it, the more it felt...it felt invigorating, it felt freeing. Not to mention Jungkook’s face as you continued had heat pooling between your legs; he looked a mixture between angry and desperate, like he wanted you so badly he didn’t know if he should take you or beg you. 

Tilting your head back, you let out a little laugh, feeling your hair fall down your back like a silky waterfall. When you looked back up at Jungkook, you kept the shit-eating grin on your face, feeling the adrenaline lick through your veins like liquid fire. 

“It’s not my fault that I have a sexy body, that I look good as fuck in this body suit. Don’t I, though, Jungkook?” You cupped one of your breasts with a hand, abandoning the smile to bite your lip, making sure to flutter your eyelashes at him, darkening your gaze. His face had frozen in a facsimile of a smile, more of a grimace, his eyes burning, dark green fire smoldering dangerously. 

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” Unafraid, you stepped away from him a bit, spreading your arms out wide, feeling a rush of satisfaction when you noticed his gaze raking over your barely clad body. It made you feel drunk on power, on how you affected him, on how your words spilled from your lips like toxic ambrosia. 

“What, are you jealous that they get to see my pussy and you don’t?” 

And that was it, that was what made Jungkook snap. 

He ended up rushing forward, wrapping his arms around your hips before scooping you up and throwing you back onto the bed. Startled by the sudden movement, you barely managed to catch yourself before his mouth was on yours, sloppy and wet from the start. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, coaxing yours into a passionate kiss that had your body melting against him. It was almost like he had gone feral; he tugged at your lace bodysuit before eventually ripping the fabric so that only one shoulder stayed on; as soon as he had your breast bared, he dragged his lips down your skin until he reached your nipple, and there, he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud. It had you moaning out into the humid air, your noises turning into whimpers when he used his teeth, tugging your nipple. 

Then he pulled off of you and stood, staring down at you with such a hungry look goosebumps pebbled along your skin. As you watched, his hand slid down his body before moving to palm his cock through his Puma sweatpants. The only thing you could think to do was get on the ground in front of him, and judging by his approving smirk, that was exactly what he wanted you to do. As soon as you settled, his hand settled into your hair, fingers soft as he stroked your head. But when you pulled his pants down, realizing he wasn’t wearing any boxers underneath, his grip tightened. His cock sprung free, hard and leaking; it looked like he had been hard for awhile, and you wondered exactly when he had gotten an erection. When he saw you? When you bragged in his face? Though it didn’t matter much when his cock was in front of you, begging you to suck it. 

Jungkook used the grip he had on your hair to pull your mouth closer to his cock, and you obliged, opening your mouth wide to slip the head of his cock into your mouth, using your tongue to swirl around the head. 

Like this, with his fingers tight in your hair, almost forcing you down onto his cock, you could feel random shards of the broken mirror digging into your knees, pinpricks of pain that heightened every single sensation that you were feeling. It reminded you...no, that wasn’t it. But an image flashed through your mind, a painting of a woman bleeding from several cuts, writhing in pleasure. 

“Did they all have you like this?” Jungkook growled, pulling your hair tighter from the roots, making you moan around his cock, drool slicking the corner of your mouth. You assumed that he meant the other men that you had sucked off, but you couldn’t help but think he was referencing something else.

As you lost yourself in the feeling of his heavy cock in your mouth, the salty taste of his pre-cum radiating across your tongue, your entire perspective...shifted.

It was hard to explain; one second, you were on your knees, feeling the sharp shards of glass dig into your skin, and the next, you were watching yourself on a laptop screen. The screen was displaying the image of what was happening currently in your bedroom; you were on your knees, your lace teddy halfway ripped off, Jungkook standing above you. As you watched, feeling as though you were floating above the scene but also in a room with a laptop, your head bobbed up and down, taking Jungkook’s cock better than you were certain you ever could. 

Then you heard a ding and realized that donations were coming in, spilling in, all the same amount of money: $666.

A growl spilled out of the computer speakers and when you turned your attention back to the screen, a chill went down your spine; the hands in your hair were tipped with black claws, and the face you knew so well was transformed into a scaly monster, green eyes glinting in pleasure. 

Suddenly, the gaze flicked to yours, and as you watched, Jungkook winked at you with those jewel-like eyes, right before he began to fuck your mouth with furious movements. 

Just like that, you jerked back to reality, just in time for Jungkook to come in your mouth, hot salty come spilling down your throat; you weren’t expecting it, but you still managed to barely swallow, some of the come spilling out of your mouth and sliding down the corner of your lips. Jungkook’s thumb gently wiped the come for you before easing against your lips, forcing the digit against your tongue. Still dazed from your weird vision, you let him do so, feeling the taste of his come and the texture of his skin against your sensitive tongue. 

“So good for me,” he murmured, and that comment made you regain your coherency; you looked up at him from beneath your lashes before nipping at his thumb as hard as you could. Even though it must have hurt, all he did was smirk, the image sending heat all throughout your body. Fuck, he looked so good right now, standing above you, his neck glistening with sweat, hair falling in his face. Yet his hand was so gentle on your skin, so much so that you didn’t expect him to exert pressure on your chin, pushing you upwards on shaky legs. The two of you maintained eye contact as he walked you back towards the bed again. His gaze was so dark, so luminous; it enveloped you, set you on fire. 

The backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall, trusting that Jungkook wouldn’t let you get hurt. Your back bounced on the bed but you didn’t have time to adjust before Jungkook was on you, his body covering yours and weighing you down to the bed. As you laid underneath him, he gripped your hips and pulled you higher up on the bed, so your legs were no longer dangling off. 

“Fuck, I’m gona make you feel so good,” Jungkook breathed out against your skin before he kissed your neck, latching his mouth onto your skin, sucking and nibbling so that there was bound to be a mark. It made you feel like you were his, like nothing else that happened before this mattered. You trembled underneath him, biting your lip and letting out soft gasps.

It was easy for him to rip the rest of your body suit off; at this point, it was mostly tatters anyways, but the way he used his strength to destroy the rest of the clothing made you wetter than you had been before, if that was possible. 

“All mine,” he growled against your skin, and before you knew it, he was kissing his way down your body before he ended up at your dripping pussy; when you looked down at him, eyes hazy with pleasure, he licked his lips in anticipation and--was his--

For a moment, you could’ve sworn his tongue looked forked. 

But then he was licking up your folds, and you didn’t even care anymore as he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth, moaning softly against your cunt. The way his tongue felt against you had your back arching on the bed, sweat dripping down your body. He ate you up like he was a sinner and this was his penance. For a moment, he pulled away, kissing up your thighs.

“Fuckers got to taste you first,” he muttered mutinously before nipping at your skin. “But I bet none of them made you feel this way, did they?” 

You felt too amazing to respond, too caught up in how he rendered you a useless mess. He didn’t seem to care, though, because then his tongue was sliding inside of you and you cursed under your breath, pussy clenching around his tongue. 

Which felt...abnormally long, like it was reaching far inside of you, reaching areas you didn’t even know could be felt, could be touched, but you didn’t care because it felt so fucking amazing, you were right on that edge and you were practically gushing around his tongue, soaking the sheets. His thumb began to rub at your clit, your wetness making it easy for him to heighten your pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to tumble over the edge, soaking the bottom of Jungkook’s face with your slick. You came so hard your eyes rolled into the back of your head, goosebumps appearing on your skin again, nipples hardening. The only thing that escaped your mouth were breathless gasps. 

Your orgasm was so powerful that you barely registered Jungkook pulling away from your pussy, his hands brushing against your hips. He sat up and you felt his hard heat against your thigh again; somehow the fucker was hard again.

“Ride me,” Jungkook said suddenly, his grip on your skin tightening, bound to leave bruises.

“I can barely move, I…” you barely managed to get out, noting how your body felt like noodles. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest, shaking you with every beat.

“That’s fine,” he said and then you were tilting again as he lifted your entire body up; you flopped against his chest and that was when you felt his cock easing inside of you, the entrance aided by your previous orgasm that rendered your pussy a sloppy, wet mess. Even though you still felt like jello, your head tilted back and your mouth opened on a moan at the feeling of his cock easing inside of you, making you so full you couldn’t help but clench around him.

That made him growl before slamming his hips up into you the rest of the way, hitting a spot inside of you that had your toes curling.

“F-Fuck,” you gasped out, trembling in his grasp, your nails digging into his skin. 

“Promise me you’ll never show anyone else your body,” Jungkook said, and you were so lost in the pleasure that you couldn’t help but nod, clinging to him. 

“It’s for me, just for me. Those fuckers got you first, but I’ll get you last.”

His cock was so hard and hot inside of you, igniting your entire body, sending sweat dripping down your body. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before; you almost felt intoxicated with it, drunk on the feeling of his cock hitting deep inside of you, sending pricks of pleasure throughout your entire body. You closed your eyes against the sensations, letting out a moan, feeling his fingers all over your back--wait--

How many fingers was that? You found yourself counting 11, 12--

His nails, they were lightly scraping your back, but they--they were longer, now, they were sharp, they were leaving trails of thin scratches on your skin, which surprisingly felt good, like they were instantly covered with fire--

As you gasped in your constant pleasure and confusion, not knowing exactly what was going on, but also not really caring anymore, you felt something brushing your back--

Feathers.

Your eyes flew open, and that was when you realized that Jungkook had changed. While you had been straddling him, eyes shut in the throes of your pleasure, his eyes had changed color, flashing between green and orange so fast that you were dizzy; he gave you an innocent smile and you caught sight of his fangs; when your eyes travelled upwards, you realized that he had large, twisting black horns growing out of his hair, his wet and wavy hair falling over the curves--

And what was brushing against your skin was a pair of admittedly beautiful black wings, so black they looked almost like an oil slick, blue and green reflecting off each feather. Although you should have been freaked out, you weren’t. The wings pulled you closer, curved around your figure, and you found yourself completely encapsulated in them while Jungkook continued to fuck up into you, his claws sliding down to your hips. 

“They all got to fuck you before I did, bastards,” he breathed heavily against your forehead, and you felt his fangs dig into your skin. 

As his fingers kept you close to his figure, feeling nothing but the heat of his body and his sharp teeth, hearing nothing but the soft growls he let out and his heavy, hot breathing, you...saw things.

A dark sky, red and orange and purple splashed in the background like the clouds had been set on fire, and a dark figure hurtling towards the ground at a high speed, huge wings curled around their body protectively, white feathers crumbling away, lit by embers that flew up into the inky darkness of the sky. The feathers that stayed on the wings were turning a slick black, blending into the sky so well you couldn’t even tell if they were there. And somehow you knew, you just knew--it was Jungkook. 

Your mind reeled as you had visions of other incidents, things that had happened--thick, red wine, a taste on your tongue of sulfur and blood--an image of a naked woman wrapped in emerald snakes, expression twisted in pleasure--a necklace, handed to you with a wide, sharp smile--a warm bath, arms around your waist, a sad smile as you said goodbye--a red maze of mirrors, white teeth flashing with anger--

Then him, waiting for you in the depths, his gaze partly amused and discerning. 

Jungkook was wrong--he wasn’t going to have you last.

You were going to him next. 

And with that, with your body still taking in all of those facts and memories, your orgasm hit you hard, tingling throughout your entire body so aggressively your eyes rolled back into your head and you were fairly certain that you blacked out. All the while, you heard whisperings, you heard their names and their stories and you heard his voice, so deep and enticing, all the way from the depths.

When you came to, you were resting against your headboard, exhausted from the intense orgasm you just had. You genuinely felt like you had been through hell and back with how limp your limbs felt, like wet noodles. 

But then you remembered everything, and your head jerked up; your eyes lit upon Jungkook, and to both your horror and sick fascination, you realized that you hadn’t imagined any of it. 

The light from your lamp on the nightstand wasn’t super bright, but it was still enough to see every bit of him. Somehow, Jungkook in his demon form was much bigger than his human version, which you remembered as your friend. But that might have been the giant wings that protruded from his back, although they were folded back now. The black, curving horns did nothing to help the situation, giving him a solid five inches of height, and your eyes ran down the rest of his naked body, noting that his skin, at least, didn’t look much different than usual. But his hands were tipped by long black claws, sharp enough to slice through your throat in a second. When you finally brought your gaze back up to his face, he gave you a smile, and you caught sight of his sharp teeth again, a little bit too white and shiny. The sight made you wince and the smile melted off of his face.

“...You…” you started, your voice cracking; you cleared it and then awkwardly thanked him when he handed you a water bottle from your nightstand, careful not to nick you with his claws. 

As you watched him, as he sat there on your bed, you realized that you loved him. And, judging by the way he looked at you, his big obsidian eyes laced with jade fire, he loved you back. But...you had loved all of them, hadn’t you? In your own way?

“You fell,” you murmured, your voice low. His gaze burned bright in the low light of the room, fixated on you so intensely that you felt like you couldn’t breathe, like your chest was tight. 

“Didn’t you fall too?” he asked you, so softly you could barely hear it, and then the light from your lamp popped, burning out with a loud noise, startling you with the sound and the sudden darkness. When you finally managed to get up and stumble to the lightswitch on the wall, throwing your room into sudden brightness, you realized he was gone. All that was left of him, any indication that he was ever there, was a single black feather in the middle of your rumpled bedspread. 

Now that you knew everything, now that you could remember it all…

You hoped he was ready for you.

Because you were coming for Him.

[permanentcrossfics]

Blurred Lines: Met Gala Rewind // h.s.

“How come?” 

“How come what?” 

“The carpet one,” he asked. “How come? What’s special about it?”

Lips ticking up, you squeezed his midsection. “It was sexy.” You twisted and found him staring at you with unwavering intensity. “You looked sexy.” A simple declaration, buttoned with a kiss just underneath his nipple, that he already knew — you knew he knew, because it wasn’t like you’d be naked in bed with him otherwise — but it crackled in the air between you. “You looked… like a man,” you breathed, “who knew what he wanted and that he didn’t have to try, you….” 

Harry blinked quickly, gulping, and you giggled mischievously before biting your lip and curling up against him again. “Kind of wish I’d been there. Could’ve taken full advantage.”

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“Can you believe…?” 

You rolled over, propping yourself on your elbows, and Harry peered at you, one eye open and one eye shut, squinting into the sun streaming through the window behind you. The arm of his that hadn’t just slipped from your shoulders was thrown over his head and his fingers played through his own hair, combing and pulling the curls that were too long by now. Too long because it’d been seven weeks since you’d been holed away together. Seven weeks? Eight? It was hard to count anymore. 

“Can you believe you were here for the Met Gala a year ago?”

He shook his head. “No quite a year.”

“Not yet,” you said. “Next week, though? Right?”

One corner of his mouth lifted with a chuckle and he nodded. “Feels like….” It felt like forever ago — all that’s happened in a year, all that’d changed. You stretched out beside him, landing a warm kiss to warmer skin before curling up, and his arm returned to your shoulders to pin you to his side. Smirking, you wriggled against him to relieve the ache in your breasts from where they were pressed into his ribs. 

“Which outfit was your favorite?” 

“Of mine?”

You nodded. He was silent above you and you traced soft circles and figure eights on his belly until his hand slapped down on yours. 

“They’re both… I mean, I don’t really know if I thought about it like that. They were different — different purposes, different… d’you know what I mean?” 

You nodded again but didn’t say anything until he asked, “What about you? Did you have a favorite?” 

“The one on the carpet.” 

Harry barked a laugh but it sounded incomplete. You’d seen the photos — many of them, most despite your efforts to not look, because he’d been news. He’d never set foot at a Met Gala before, and when he did, he was a co-chair. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Mmm.”

“How come?” 

“How come what?” 

“The carpet one,” he asked. “How come? What’s special about it?”

Lips ticking up, you squeezed his midsection. “It was sexy.” You twisted and found him staring at you with unwavering intensity. “You looked sexy.” A simple declaration, buttoned with a kiss just underneath his nipple, that he already knew — you knew he knew, because it wasn’t like you’d be naked in bed with him otherwise — but it crackled in the air between you. “You looked… like a man,” you breathed, “who knew what he wanted and that he didn’t have to try, you….” 

Harry blinked quickly, gulping, and you giggled mischievously before biting your lip and curling up against him again. “Kind of wish I’d been there. Could’ve taken full advantage.”

“Y’didn’t tell me,” he rasped. “If I’d known—“

You snorted. “Anna Wintour wasn’t going to let me in. Besides, we weren’t there yet.” 

“I’d have asked,” he insisted. “Figured out some explanation, gotten you in… Alessandro would’ve loved t’dress you….” He trailed off and you could hear the daydreams of the different hints he’d have tried to drop for his friend about what he’d like to see you in spinning through his head. 

He wouldn’t have — couldn’t have — and you didn’t hold it against him. “We should watch all the highlights,” you teased. “To celebrate next week. Maybe see if the liquor store will deliver?”

They did, in fact, deliver, and it was the first package you were able to get from the door that week. A few different boxes had arrived over the course of the last seven days, and Harry had shooed you away each time, gloves on and wipes in hand to whisk them away to his office. You were just unpacking the delivery of champagne in the kitchen and scrolling through your phone, debating between tacos and pizza, when you heard him calling you.

“Darling?” Muffled, far, but unmistakable. “Would you come help me for… just for a moment?” 

“Just a second,” you called back. “I need to….” You pumped soap onto your hands and turned the water on.

“Love?”

“Gimme a minute!” you called back, annoyance flaring up in you. When you’d finished rinsing and drying your hands, you left the kitchen, but once you found his office empty, you stopped. “Harry?”

“Bedroom, darling.” 

Darling. Twice, and loftily. He must want something, and you were still smirking when you opened the door, but what you found made you stop short. 

Different — he looked different. His hair was shaggier, though you could tell he’d made efforts to tame it, and his beard, for what it was, had grown in. No earring, because he’d given up on that ages ago after the start of a few infections (you’d warned him, but had he listened?), and his nails were clean because he didn’t have any colors, much less the right colors from that night. The rings were the same, as they mostly always were, and he twisted them, shifting from foot to foot with an almost nervous smile. 

You almost laughed in shock. “Where did you— where did you get that?” you gasped in a rush.

He tilted his head. “Had it sent,” he said. “Thought y’might like to see it since you couldn’t be there an’ all…” Frozen, you gripped the doorknob, and he laughed quietly. “C’mon.” His rings clinked when his knuckles tapped together. “Cat got your tongue?” Harry lifted his chin. “Get a little closer, lover.” 

Dangerous bait by any measure, but you held your breath as you approached. He was taller, and you realized belatedly that he was wearing shoes that lifted him a good few inches. That would be the smaller of the packages that had arrived, then. Up close, you saw what the photographs had shown and more. Every goosebump, every freckle, every tattoo was visible, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

You remembered that night — that weekend and the week that followed were burned into your brain, vividly, if for different reasons. He hadn’t told you he’d landed, which he nearly always did. It was up to you, googling the flight information he’d sent, and the paparazzi photos that had exploded the night of Anna Wintour’s dinner to let you know he’d arrived safely in one piece and was working. To say you’d been annoyed was putting it lightly — work was work and you couldn’t imagine how busy he was and the pressure that went with it, but when you were wringing your hands over whether he’d made it or not and he hadn’t texted you first for the first time in… ever, it stung. You’d been determined to hold out and hold firm until he came crawling and realized what he’d done, and you’d refused to be like the rest of the world and wait with bated breath for what he was going to wear. 

It’d taken one photo — just one — for you to crack. You’d never have expected that, but it suited him and the event, and to top it all off the aura of smug cockiness that he’d all but radiated…. The better part of your night had been spent pacing your studio, trying not to look, failing, opening your chat with him, and closing out. Smolder seemed an appropriate word, and you could’ve slapped him for making you think of something so ridiculously harlequin.  

“Does it look like the pictures?” 

You inhaled sharply and glanced up at him. “What are you doing?” you asked, barely above a whisper. 

“Y’weren’t there.” Hands clasped, he squeezed them, knuckles whitening with each pulse. “Figured I’d bring it to you.” 

“Mmm.” Tentatively, you trailed your fingers over his arm, watching the fabric ripple under your touch. It was soft — slippery when you pinched it, not at all like a cheap costume — and you followed the lines of his muscles and the trail of tattoos up his arm, over his collarbones, and down over his chest. He closed his eyes and went very still for a fraction of a second when you grazed his nipple before clearing his throat and shifting in place. 

“Tryin’ t’make sure I’m real?” he rasped. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, voice catching, and you dropped your hand. Opening his eyes, he tilted his head to catch yours. “What do you think?” 

“About?” 

Harry lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger and you inhaled sharply. 

“Am I still sexy?” 

Your laugh was whispery, almost tremulous, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Didn’t have a problem saying it the other day,” he teased. “Not so quick now that m’standing in front of you, are you?” His smirk widened. “C’mon, love. D’I have to take you over my knee t’get it outta you?” 

Oh. 

You clamped your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth, and the humorous glint in his eyes dimmed as he blinked. 

“Did you… is that why y’like this one so much?” he asked. “Did you think about—?”

Maybe. Yes. You’d thought about a lot that night until the early hours of the morning when it became clear he wasn’t showing. His bow? Perfect for your wrists. The ruffles on his sleeves? Better than any feather, and the confidence to an almost arrogant degree… you’d never wanted to slap him more, and the worst part is he’d probably have loved for you to try. And the demeanor he seemed to take on wearing this….

Breath hitching, you gulped, and he licked his lips. 

“You look good,” you whispered. 

Harry jerked his head towards the bed and you bit your lip, stumbling when he pulled you by the wrist. He sat on the edge, fingers slipping into the waist of your shorts, and you gripped his shoulders over the soft, slippery fabric to steady yourself when he popped the button on your shorts open. Holding your gaze, he tugged your zipper, and he was still looking at you when he pulled them past your hips. “C’mon,” he murmured. “Y’know what to do.” 

Kicking your shorts away, you turned and bent your wobbly knees to lean over his spread ones. His trousers felt expensive — you almost didn’t want to touch them, but when his full hand circled over your ass, you fisted the material in yours to brace yourself. His first slap made you jump, but you bit your lip and swallowed back the instinctual yelp. His palm had no sooner smoothed the sting than he’d landed his second, and the third had you pushing yourself up on his thigh before your elbow buckled. 

“What’s wrong?” he rasped.

“N-nothing,” you shook your head. “Nothing, I promise….”

“Y’sure?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Yes, don’t stop.” 

His next one was heavy and landed with a crack that made you shout wordlessly. “That’s m’girl.” The fourth took your breath from you and you dug your toes into the floor. “That’s my—” Five. You pressed your thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache, but all it did was make it worse. Already, you could feel how wet and sticky you were, and after the sixth with a whimper from you, Harry slid his hand between your thighs, thumb over your ass and fingers pushing against—

“Your cunt,” he groaned, pulsing and rubbing with a quiet, wonderous laugh. “Fuck, feel tha’... already soaked.” Mouth stretched wide, you gripped his knee with a choked noise when his finger caught your clit through the fabric. “Oh, s’this what I missed out on?” 

As heavy as your breathing was, you could barely hear it over his, and you wriggled when he pulled your underwear down — just enough for him to tug it aside so two of his fingers could slide in. “Shit!” he laughed under his breath, curling his fingers and pushing so deep your vision blurred and you closed your eyes. “Oh, shit, look at—” 

You squirmed and the hand that wasn’t inside you landed on your cheek with a quick, punishing sting. 

“Oh, my God!” you wheezed, crying out sharply when he did it again while curling his fingers. 

“Stay still!” he said, teeth rattling. “Stay—” eight— “still f’me, like a good….”

He was hard — you could feel him digging into you, and you knew by the slight shift in his feet and knees it was starting to drive him insane, but you knew he wouldn’t let you help even if you tried. Draped over him, all you could do was hold on, tears stinging your eyes as he pumped his fingers and spanked. Stop and go, stop and go — the longer it went on, you lost count, lost in the frustration that every time you thought you were about to reach bliss, he stopped short, fingers stilling and hand tapping your ass gently. 

No!

“H-Harry,” you gulped under your breath. “Harry, Harry… please….” 

“M’a man—” Your toes curled when he spanked again. “Who knows what he wants. Don’t have to try, do I, darling?” 

You whined and he laughed breathlessly. You were sore — you were so sore, and so open that even his fingers didn’t feel like enough, and you just wanted—

“I wanna cum,” you whimpered. “I wanna cum, baby, please? Please, I—” You shouted when he pulsed just inside you, nearly tipping off him and nosediving to the floor. Bucking back on him, you matched his rhythm, begging him, “Please don’t stop… please don’t stop, I wanna cum, I wanna…!” 

Crying out, everything in you tensed and you shook, a momentary smile of sheer relief pulling your lips as you mouthed silent thanks. When you slumped, tension lax, he bent over you and kissed your ass repeatedly. 

“Can you get on the bed?” he asked between kisses. “Please?” His voice was tight and strained and the hardon digging into your ribs explained why. You’d no sooner nodded than he’d circled his arms around your midsection and lifted you up so you could scramble onto the bed. Behind you, he fumbled with zippers and fastenings, cursing in words you’d never heard before, but when he pulled your underwear down your thighs and the bed dipped behind you under the weight of his knees, you knew he’d done it. 

No reverence, no ceremony. One moment, he was bracing himself with one hand on your ass, and the next he was inside you. He groaned deeply, each thrust shallow and quick, pelvis tight against your ass, balls heavy and skin smacking. “C’mon!” he begged reedily. “Oh, shit, come… come on, I—“

His cuffs tickled your skin and your face crumpled when you buried it in the duvet, sliding forward minutely each time he rolled his hips forward, mumbles and mutters incomprehensible until he spluttered and you felt the hot, wet rush of cum spurting in you. Your toes curled and you sucked in a breath, the force he was bearing down on you with just a shade painful, but he let go and pulled out in the next second, landing on the mattress with a heavy thud. 

Your knees buckled and your body caved slowly until it was all but melted with the bed. “Kinda thought you’d never… never let me near any of your clothes,” you laughed, tongue thick and heavy. “Thought you’d always say they’re too p-priceless.”

Silence met you, and it was only when you lifted your head that you found him flat on his back with bow undone and hands on his chest, eyes closed and lips parted. “Harry?”

He grunted weakly and you dropped your head again. “Just checking.”

[pacificwanderer]

I’m starting to feel very nervous that there will be no romance between Ben and Rey. What if it’s just them reconciling and that’s it. Their relationship just evolves to them being friends at the end of IX or their relationship is so subtle and is left ambiguous...

Hey Nonnie,

Romance has always been an overt part of SW as a whole, so there’s no reason to believe that any romance between Rey and Ben would be subtle or ambiguous.

I’m going to be frank, but they were not so subtly eye-fucking each other on that elevator (my non-shipping spouse thought they were going to kiss, which is exactly what they wanted the audience to think).

She saw his tits.

They touched hands in a symbolic union across space and time.

And then there’s the whole throne room scene. I just, you know it’s not only the Reylos that see this shit, right?

Here’s a fun article from Vanity Fair: How The Last Jedi Became the Sexiest Star Wars Movie Yet that features such gems as: 

But having seen the film with a full audience three times, I can say no moment draws more audible gasps and applause than when Adam Driver’s Kylo Ren and Daisy Ridley’s Rey whirl around in brief slow-motion, stand back-to-back, and take on a room of their shared enemies together. It’s the sexiest moment in a franchise that already featured a young Han Solo answering Leia’s earnest “I love you” with a smoldering “I know.”

But I hate to break it to you: the Tumblr fans were right. With Rey’s non-Skywalker lineage confirmed, she and Kylo burn up the screen in the franchise’s most intense relationship we can’t help but root for—even though we know we shouldn’t.

It’s tempting, at first, to deny the existence of any sexual tones in The Last Jedi. This is, after all, a franchise for kids. But sex, love, and bad or off-limits romances have always been written into the D.N.A. of Star Wars—albeit a little less lustily.

And like this entire paragraph:

But for all the romantic picnics between Padmé and Anakin and passionate stolen kisses of Han and Leia, nothing in the Star Wars franchise has ever had quite the dangerous spark as the late-night Force Skype sessions between lonely, misunderstood misfits Rey and Kylo. “You’re not alone,” they urgently confess to each other as the movie pushes them closer. Nothing is sexier than a forbidden romance—and, like any overprotective father figure, Luke should have known that busting up their call would only drive Rey directly into Kylo’s arms. (Note the precise moment in the film where she switches from calling him Kylo to calling him “Ben.”) The fact that Kylo is unwittingly being used as some kind of sexy emo honeypot so Snoke can lure Rey into his clutches is beside the point. These kids think the connection they have is special because they are special. 

Okay, so read the entire article because it’s gold.

And then this article is just lol:

1. Kylo Ren takes his shirt offLike I wasn’t going to start with this? Adam Driver as Kylo Ren gamely serves up the most Star Wars beefcake since Luke went sleeveless on Dagobah, and even Rey is rattled. She forgot to force-knock before barging in on the dude, and here’s Kylo Ren alone in his room, stripped to the waist, boasting sweaty pecs that look like he sliced Alderaan in half and glued the remainders to his chest. It’s a lot! Finally, even people who don’t subscribe to HBO can wonder, “Shit, am I attracted to Adam Driver?”

2. Kylo and Rey’s whole thingMany weirdos shipped these two characters after The Force Awakens, and now I kinda get it. Kylo and Rey never make out, but they still share The Last Jedi’s sexiest scenes as well as a telepathic connection fostered by sinister voyeur Snoke, the galaxy’s mightiest cuck. And how about that moment where Kylo kills his mentor — it’s always hot when a space goth murders a lazy magician — and then flips sides with Rey to kill off a straggling crew of ruby-red stormtroopers? If watching seven seasons of Buffy has taught me anything, it’s that there is no sex sign more unequivocal than teaming up with your sworn enemy to throw stage punches.

And like, this is going to get a little ranty (not directed at you, nonnie, just in general because I have a lot of feelings about SW and Reylo lol), but I don’t know if I can properly convey just how big of a fucking deal it is that Ben killed Snoke for Rey. He killed his master for someone he’s known for, what? Three days? A girl who tried to kill him twice? And he’s not even mad about it! I think he’s impressed, and more than just a little bit in love with her.

But he killed off what everyone thought was going to be the big bad, because he wanted to keep her safe. He was thinking of this plan from when she arrived on Snoke’s Supremacy. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn’t sure until that lightsaber fell in front of him and everything clicked because there was no way he was going to let Snoke have her.

After everything he’s been through and everything that Snoke has done to him, he wasn’t willing to give her up.

He killed someone who has had a hold on him since BIRTH, basically an evil wizard that had a powerful spell over him for his entire life, and he killed him for her. I don’t know if people realize just how significant that is for Ben. Unless you’ve grown up in an extremely oppressive environment (think fundamentalist religions or even cults), it’s hard to properly convey just how much of a big fucking deal it is to turn on everything you’ve come to know.

Snoke isolated Ben so completely that they weren’t even allowed to utter his birth name in the FO. He tried to fashion him into a weapon that could be used to bring down Luke. But furthermore than that, the relationship was insidious and predatory in nature, but as is the case with those kinds of relationships, people are brainwashed into believing certain things. They condition people to have certain reactions (so, when Han questions Snoke’s loyalty to Ben and tells him that Snoke will use him and destroy him, Kylo basically replies with a ready response, “No, the supreme leader is wise.” LIKE FUCK ME SIDEWAYS. That’s a learned reaction, something that gets triggered by specific circumstances/conditioning and, in this case, that circumstance is someone questioning Snoke’s power).

So turning away from something that you’ve been indoctrinated into is hard and, in some cases, impossible because of the kind of conditioning that is used to control people accounts for that kind of thing (which also makes Fi//nn turning against the FO a huge fucking deal too, btw). But Ben overcomes that for her. This isn’t something you do for like some rando on the street. He did this because he wanted to keep her, and she wanted to keep him, but not as they are at that point. Both of them need to figure out some shit on their own before they’re able to come together and resolve their problems and get a HEA.

He made his first step towards the light for her, but now he has to find his own reasons for coming around. He has to want to change for himself, and not because Rey or anyone else wants him to, in order for there to be any kind of lasting change in his life (and of course it’s fine if he needs help to do that, but the main motivating factor has to be that he wants to change).

And I’m not so convinced that Rey is sold on the idea of the Resistance. Like it was always her intention to go back to Jakku until Kylo got her to see the truth about that. She’s been fighting to survive her entire life, like she doesn’t owe them anything. I think her story is going to be more Force driven than anything else (with the eventual resolution for it all at the end), but we’ll have to see.

Also. ALSO. She shipped herself to him, right smack into fucking enemy territory, risking torture and death, to get him back. She did that. SHE DID THAT. RIGHT IN THERE. Like how impulsive and awesome. She saw the good in him, saw that they shared something yet to come, and BOOM she’s in there to get him back. I admire that about her. It’s brave and such a fucking hero thing to do, and for the villain. MY GOD. FOR KYLO FUCKING REN. THE DUDE SHE JUST TRIED TO KILL TWICE. I JUST. *FLAILING*

BE STILL MY VILLAIN FUCKER HEART.

Anyfuckingways. Basically, LF knows how thirsty everyone is for more Reylo content, JJ knows how thirsty we all are for more Reylo content (his director’s commentary, what does he say when the story shifts back to Rey and Kylo? “Back to the story that everyone cares about?”). 

Just don’t worry. Honestly, it’s not worth it. And, honestly, this shit already isn’t subtle or subtext or any of it. It’s right the fuck out there. Obvious enough that other media comments on it and fanboys get riled up about it.

It’s real. And I have faith that they cast Adam Fucking Driver because they know what a god damn fabulous kisser he is, like they’re not going to let those “plush lips” go to waste. WHAT A CRIME THAT WOULD BE.

WHAT A WASTE.

Anyways, there’s a shitton of awesome Reylo meta out there that pretty much lays out why people thing it’s going to happen and if you’re still worried about it, maybe take a break from spoilers/the fandom for a bit because, at the end of it all, it’s supposed to be fun and not stressful.

Cheers and chin up, Nonnie!