Regulus Smut - Tumblr Posts

Hi!! I hope you’re having a great day. I just wanted to ask you if you could do softdom!sugardaddy!regulusxfem!reader?? Regulus takes her to Paris but her new jewelleries and lingeries and fucks her against the view of the Eiffel Tower. Only if you feel comfortable with it. Feel free to ignore.

heyyy! i hope you're having a marvelous day aswell! i personally love this request so much, it seems like the perfect thing to write, so thanks for submitting this!!

-

PAIRING: softdom!regulus x fem!reader

WARNINGS: nsfw content, sugar daddy-ing, descriptive smut, semi-public sex, overstim, modern AU, age gap (reader is 21) , pet names (princess, love, baby i think..?)

SUMMARY: regulus takes you to paris to treat you

You’re sitting at a nearby restaurant at the airport, sipping a coffee while scrolling through your phone. Your boyfriend sits on the opposite of the small table, looking around at the small shops lined up against the large room.

Regulus noticed that you’ve been drowning yourself in school work, and wanted to surprise you with a vacation to Paris, before you arrive back home to another week of finals. You were beyond excited when he texted you about the trip, having checked your schedule the night before.

“Southwest 4379 scheduled for takeoff 9:35 pm is now accepting and loading passengers.” The loud intercom announces you and your boyfriends' flight. 

You stood up slowly, shoving your phone in your back pocket as Regulus held both of your suitcases in his arms as he began to walk to the ticket instructor.

-

30 minutes after submitting your ticket, you and your boyfriend found your reserved seats in first class. It was similar in size to a large walk in closet, a small room stretched around a coffee table, with soft blue and purple led lights stuck on the sides of the outer walls surrounding you.

“Bed looks comfy. Oh, and check this out, Bubs!” When you sat down on the bed, a laptop sized tv made itself noticeable as a mechanical whirr sought a series of movies and shows on the screen. 

“’S fancy, don’tcha think?” Regulus settled on the side of the bed, glancing over to you, who was now snapping pictures in front of your window.

“Very fancy,” You rolled out the “e” when you replied.

“And nice.” You added with a snicker.

After taking pictures, you crawled across the bed to Regulus, who was now scrolling on his phone, looking at gold and silver necklaces.

From behind him, you hooked your arms around him, lowering you face into the crook of his neck.

Regulus hummed as he continued scrolling on the jewelry site, adding every piece he found would fit you to his virtual cart.

“Wake me up when we land...”

-

“I think I like this one.”

“That one?”

“Yeah. Matches my gold dress in my suitcase.”

You carefully picked up a silver bracelet and held it up to your face, eyeing the the gold engraved heart on the pallet in the middle on the bracelet.

“Could get my name on it. We could get matching ones hm?” Your boyfriend placed his hands on your shoulders from behind you as he spoke into your ear.

“Totally!” You happily obliged, nodding and giving the bracelet to him as you and him walked over to the cashier so he could ring it up.

-

“I like black and blue on you, Love.” Regulus caught your attention as he held up a dark lingerie set up to you, awaiting your approval.

“It’s almost perfect, I love it, too.” You looked at the set in awe.

“Should I try it on when we head back to the hotel? This is the last place we are visiting tonight, right?” You checked your phone for the time. 7:56 pm.

“Actually, there’s one more place I would like us to visit. Do you remember how you said you’ve always wanted to see the Eiffel tower?”

-

You two reserved a private view room in the Eiffel tower to admire the beautiful night.

“Still marvelous, am I right?” Regulus whispered a tease from behind you, blush crowding your cheeks when he moved his left hand from your shoulder to your waist.

You let out a pleasurable groan as he placed quick kisses on your neck, hands roaming across your chest.

“Haah.. m-more..” You moaned against him as he placed a long kiss on your lips.

You whimpered against his face when he guided his right hand up your loose shirt, massaging your tits through your lacy bralette. 

“May I?” He motioned over your underwear, waiting for a response from you. When you nodded ‘Yes’, he pulled up your bra from under your shirt, rubbing your nipple with his middle finger. 

You let in a sharp breath as he did that, signaling to him that you enjoyed what he was doing. 

While his right hand was on your chest, his left hand found its way from your waist to the hem of your underwear, thumb hooking under the waistband before the rest of his fingers followed suit.

He let the pad of his middle finger lightly ghost over your clit. After teasing that area for a few minutes and earning a a series of moans from you, he plunges his fingers in your wet hole.

“Please, I need you.” You begged before he let out an honest laugh.

“More specific, darling.” He took this opportunity to lightly squeeze your nipple, earning another moan from you. 

“Need your cock, Reggie.” You whimpered as his pace in your pussy went faster, making you grip the handrail in front of you.

“Well, since my princess begged so nicely for it, I might just give it to her.”

Playing with your breasts and getting you off drove you over the edge, your hips rutting against his hand as you came, moaning out sweet nothings.

Regulus unbuckled his belt as you came down from your high, thick cock springing from his boxers when he pulled them down.

Slowly pushing inside of you, you moaned out even louder due to the overstimulation, and your boyfriend pulled his left hand from your underwear, and held his ring and middle finger to your plump lips. 

“Taste yourself, darling.” 

You took his wet fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them.

After a few moments of himself inside of you, he picked up his pace and thrusted in and out of your pussy, setting off another orgasm of yours.

“Mmm, gonna fuck my cum inside this pretty pussy.” He groaned out, indicating he was close, too.

While you were coming for the second time, Regulus approached his high soon after yours.

-

“That was amazing.” You turned around on the bed to Regulus’ side.

“Which one, the trip, or me inside you?” He let out a laugh and you gasped in sarcasm.

“Actually, both.”

“Which one did you like the most, princess?”

“The trip.”

He scoffed.

“I was kidding!”

-

a/n: apologies if this isnt the best, i didnt have time to spell check it and i was high writing like 75% of this lmao, its all over the place

what a shame

Pairing: Regulus Black x James Potter  Rating: Mature  Length: 2.4K words  This is a songfic inspired by the song what a shame by Lizzy McAlpine :)  Read on AO3

All Regulus can focus on is James’s bowed head, dark bar falling into his eyes, chest pressed against the bar in front of him. The soft slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his jaw. He licks his lips and Regulus tastes honey in the back of his throat. 

His breath is frozen in his chest. He can’t remember how many times he’s hoped for this. Longed for James to come back to him, even as a shadow, even as a dream. 

James pulls his beer closer to him. Regulus watches as his lips part gently over the top of the bottle and he tips his head back closing his eyes tight. 

It’s a sucker punch to the stomach. James. Here. Because Regulus knows that James could have loved him if he let himself. If he could just get past his mistakes, if he could just get past — 

“Excuse me,” Someone grunts behind him and Regulus spins on them in an instant, hand reaching frantically for his wand. 

“Sorry lad, you’re in the doorway,” The man says gently brushing past him into the bar. 

Regulus feels a lump bloom in his throat. This is what the war has made him into. He is a weapon and he is so so tired. He wants someone to tell him what to do. To tell him how to stop the fighting and the deaths and the never ending blood pooling in his palms. 

James leans forward in his seat. Regulus watches the muscles in his shoulders clench and release under the thin fabric of his dark blue shirt. 

He can’t decide if he should stay or if he should go. His hands start to sweat. It’s hard to breathe against the iron pressure of his ribs. 

He should go. 

But then James turns his head and Regulus’s heart jolts in his chest like he’s just been electrocuted. 

“Regulus,” James says quietly. His voice comes out cracked and an octave too deep. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing gently under the fragile skin of his neck. His eyes dart around frantically, looking anywhere but Regulus’s face. 

“James,” Regulus breathes back. He doesn’t believe in god but the name feels like a prayer on his lips. 

James doesn’t respond. He sits now with his back pressed to the bar, his eyes burn gold as they catch in the light. 

“James,” Regulus repeats, a little louder this time, “What —“ He pauses, taking a step forward, “Are you okay?” 

James still doesn’t respond. He bows his shoulders, sinking into himself like he wishes he could disappear. He raises the beer for another sip and it shakes in his hand. Still his eyes don’t leave Regulus’s body. 

So Regulus moves forward again. This time he doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of James. 

James stares at him for a moment, frozen in position like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, bracing for an inevitable crash, before shakily leaning back against the wooden bar and glancing up to meet Regulus’s eyes with his own. 

Regulus can’t look away from him. James is watching him searchingly, wonder in his warm eyes, beautiful, even red rimmed and desperate. 

Regulus wants to take him home. He wants to grab Jame’s face and press their lips together so gently that James will forget his own name, will forget the war, will forget every time he’s pulled his hand away from Regulus’s empty palm. 

He wants to take him to bed. He wants James so bad he bites down on his tongue until he tastes metal. He wants to crawl inside his body and pry his way under his ribcage, fingers cradling his heart. He wants to hear it beat against him forever. Safe. 

Regulus wants to touch him so bad his hands shake. 

Instead he shifts slightly to the left and slides onto the barstool beside James and shoves his hands deep into his pockets to stop himself from doing something he might regret. 

He orders his drink on autopilot. Every atom in his body is focused on the man beside him. He hadn’t noticed before but James still smells the same, like cedar and smoke and too many memories. 

“Regulus,” This time James says his name sweeter, warmer, like something Regulus wants to take a bite out of, “It’s really you.” 

“It is,” Regulus says softly, taking a large sip from his glass. Whisky burns warm down his throat. 

“Are you okay?” He repeats his question. 

James shakes his head and swallows hard looking down at his palms. He squeezes his eyes shut and when he opens again there are tears clinging to his lashes. 

“Fuck,” He exhales roughly.  Regulus tracks the movement of his hand as it reaches up to wipe them away. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Regulus asks not quite gently but something close. Gentle-adjacent which Regulus hopes James will understand to mean that he can see him struggling but can tell it might hurt even more to talk about it. 

When James stays quiet Regulus reaches out rubbing a hand in soft circles over his back. 

“I’m here,” He says carefully. Two words, a million mirrors of their past. All the times he found James crouched in dark corridors, tears wet on his face, “At least for now.” 

And then suddenly in the next breath, James is sobbing. Great, heaving sobs that wrack his entire body. The scary part is they're nearly silent. All Regulus can hear is his ragged breath, against the distant murmur of the pub around them. 

“It’s okay,” Regulus says softly, “This is okay.” 

And James leans into him, turns his face to the exposed skin of Regulus’s neck and gives in to his tears. 

Regulus can’t take his mind off of him. He focuses on the contour of his body, the press of his elbow and his hip. The softness of his shoulders. The dip of his waist. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. James here, touching him, one last time. 

“I can’t do it,” James murmurs against his skin. The brush of his lips feels electric. 

“What can’t you do?” Regulus whispers into his soft curls. 

“Any of it,” James’s voice cracks, “It’s too hard and everyone is dying and when I look around I can’t see anything but blood.” 

His words cut straight to Regulus’s core. He holds James close, rocking him slowly. 

“I can’t stop it,” James says breath hitching when he tries to get words out, “I can’t – I’m not good –” 

“Being good isn’t easy, you know,” Regulus says delicately, “That’s not what good is.” 

He thinks about the locket, about the cave waiting for him. An ache builds in the back of his throat

“It just doesn’t feel right,” James pulls away a bit looking up at him. His lip trembles and Regulus watches as he blinks new, hot tears, “This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” 

“Yeah,” Regulus admits, voice heavy. 

They sit in silence. Regulus feels James' body heat against him down to his bone marrow. He lets out a hot sigh against his neck and it gives Regulus goosebumps. He stares at the floor and tries desperately to reel back the roiling ache that has begun to crest in his chest. 

“I–” He starts, coughing to cover the crack in his voice, “I shouldn’t tell you this.” 

“What?” James asks, voice all sorrow and depth, so much so that it sends a spark right through Regulus’s core. 

“I’m going to do something,” Regulus pauses, trying to focus over the rabid beat of his heart, “To fix this. To change the war.” 

James looks up at him, his eyes wide and frantic. Regulus’s throat feels like it might close up. He takes a deep breath trying to focus on the way his ribcage expands against James’s body. 

“I can’t say any more,” Regulus tells him, “I just wanted –” 

But James doesn’t let him finish. Instead he wraps a warm palm around the back of Regulus’s neck and pulls him down. 

It happens because it has to. At least, that's the way it feels – like when Regulus walked into the pub tonight he’d started something inevitable, something so powerful there’s no point in fighting it. When James kisses him Regulus’s lips are already parted. 

They kiss soft and gentle. As if they have all the time in the world. All open mouths and tongues sliding together, the bitter taste of whiskey and Regulus sliding his eyes shut as James’s fingers stretch up tugging at his curls. 

James pulls away first. 

Regulus tracks his gaze over his face, pupils blown sky-wide, lips parted. There’s something in James’s brown eyes that sticks somewhere deep inside of him. 

Without speaking James reaches out and grasps Regulus’s hand in his. Before Regulus can sort through his racing thoughts James is pulling him up, tugging him out the back door of the pub, into the alleyway. 

James just kissed him, he thinks numbly, stumbling on the cobblestones. James just kissed him. 

Suddenly James stops walking and Regulus bumps into him. James turns to face him and then they’re standing only a few inches apart. Regulus watches as James’s chest heaves, as he sucks the cold air through his full lips.

They don’t talk. Instead, their bodies move in again, like they’re pulled by magnets. Regulus keeps his eyes open this time, watches the reflection of the lamplight in James' dark irises. 

He has tears in his eyes, Regulus thinks. He has lighting in his palms. 

This time when James kisses him it feels like they’re on the edge of a cliff, with a strong wind blowing, each gust pushing them closer to the edge. 

Regulus lets James push his hands up and under his coat, against his back. His fingers are cold and he gasps as they dip once, twice below the band of his pants, sending sparks through his body. James shifts, pulling Regulus forward until he’s leaning back against the brick wall with Regulus flush against him, until Regulus has one thigh between James’ legs. 

James moans softly as he presses closer so Regulus kisses down his throat sucking hard below his jaw. James’ fingers tighten in his hair and his other hand comes to Regulus's neck. His thumb brushing over Regulus’s collarbones, over his windpipe.  Regulus groans, pressing in harder, his mind a scrambled pool of half formed thoughts. He wants everything james will give him, he wants, he want, he wants – 

Before he knows it he’s on his knees. The cobblestone presses sharp into his kneecaps hard enough to leave bruises 

“Look at me,” James’ voice is low, a strain on his words. He tangles his hands through Regulus’s curls and tugs his head back sharply. 

Regulus lets out a gasp as James towers over him. The sight of him is fathomless, all consuming. He tracks his eyes over James’ flushed cheeks and dark eyes and he can’t wait to make him fall apart. 

Regulus moves his hands forward cupping James hips. A breath punches out of James’ chest in a ragged gasp and he presses forward letting Regulus’ lips ghost over the rough fabric of his pants. Swiftly Reaches up, fumbling for a second with the clasp of James’ muggle jeans. 

Regulus can’t think, he’s lost in James’ smell, in the taste of his lips, in the sharp edges of his fingertips as they dig into his scalp. Finally Regulus gets the clasp open and pulls the fabric away to press a kiss to James’s delicate tan skin. 

He’s licking a strip across James’s abdomen when he pushes him away. 

He’s breathing like he’s run a mile. His hair curling over his forehead and Regulus feels his body twitch with the urge to get up and brush it back out of his face. James stares at him and Regulus feels shaky, sick to his stomach, uncertain in a way he hasn’t felt since he first walked in and saw James sitting at the bar. 

“Fuck,” James says roughly, hitting the wall behind him with his fist. 

Regulus wants to say something. He wants to tell him – what? To come back? That he won’t tell anyone? It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters because he’s on his knees in an alleyway and James Potter is pushing him away. 

James looks at the ground, his hands loose at his sides, his jaw tight. 

Right, Regulus has the sudden urge to laugh hysterically.  How could he have thought this would end any other way? This is how it goes. This is how it has always been. He pushes himself to his feet and they stand across from each other in silence. 

“I’m sorry,” James’ voice shakes, “Fuck, Reggie. I’m so so sorry.” 

Regulus takes one deep breath, then another. He swallows the lump in his throat. 

“I –,” James breaks off, a tear spills from his eyes and tracks down his cheek, “I want this, I want you. But I can’t –” his voice breaks, “I can’t do this. It’s too late. It’s too late and I wish it wasn’t.” 

“It’s okay,” Regulus says, and he hates himself. Hates himself for letting this happen. Hates himself for telling James Potter that it’s okay that he’s breaking his heart. 

“It’s not,” James says, “It’s not, and you don’t deserve this. I’m no good Reggie. I can’t do anything right –” He sags back against the brick wall as he dissolves into tears. 

“I get it,” Regulus steps back. His whole body feels numb. 

“You don’t,” James’s voice is wrecked, husky with sorrow at every syllable, “Regulus, Lily’s pregnant,” He pauses, wiping tears from his cheek, “It’s mine.” 

Regulus flinches back, his eyes blown wide, he doesn’t bother to conceal the shock on his face. 

“What the fuck James. That would have been a good thing to know half an hour ago,” He spits, his stomach a writhing pit of anger and sorrow. “Are you with her?” 

“I don’t know,” James murmurs, not making eye contact, “It’s complicated.” His voice is faint, small in a way that Regulus has never heard before. 

“James. Fuck. You never should have touched me.” Regulus is seconds away from breaking down; he can feel the tears build behind his eyes. 

“I know,” James’ tone is pleading now, “I’m sorry Reggie. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” 

Regulus doesn’t know what to say. He watches in silence as James pushes himself up off the wall. 

“I’m sorry,” James repeats brokenly, “I’ll go.” 

Regulus almost stops him. Almost. 

Instead, he watches James walk slowly down the alley, his shoulders hunched, his silhouette fragile against the bright street lamps. 

All the almost’s they’ve ever had shimmer in the air between them. 

Regulus wants to remember, wants to forget all at the same time. 

pygmalion and galatea ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: in which regulus is a painter and you are his muse

*18+, minors DNI, sexual themes & references, romantic dynamic, first time, consent

Your eyes were fixed on him and couldn't look away.

Regulus had the face of Apollo. Sharp yet smooth features with soft curves, plump reddish lips, and a slim straight nose with a little bump on it. His seemingly tired eyes were like the sky on a winter's day, rounder on the outside, corners pointing downwards.

Everything on him was so balanced and symmetric, even the curls that were spread messily around him. Watching the hair fall on top of his forehead, covering his eyes, made you want to extend your hand, to brush it off, and all love pull it behind his ear.

He glanced up at you for a few moments at the feeling of your persistent stare, causing your eyes to move to the window behind him. You gulped ashamed that for a second or two, he caught you looking at him. You heard a smile forming on his face as he turned back to his canvas.

You had been working with Regulus for quite a while. He was laconic, only saying what was necessary to be said, nothing more, nothing less. However, your curiosity had forced you to spend hours and hours just examining him. You had learned every move of his by heart.

When he didn't like something he curled up his nose in discomfort. When he didn't like your pose or wanted you to fix your posture, he was biting his lips while quickly exchanging glances between you and the canvas. When he was running his hands through his hair, you knew you were done for the day. He didn't need to say a word and you understood immediately what he wanted.

His gaze moved back to you and his eyes stayed there for longer than you expected. Without realizing he was still looking at you, you dared to glance at him. He smiled watching you hold your breath and lightly shook his head at the irony of your timidness.

The dark candlelit room was exhaling erotic air. The trembling orange glow was softly hugging the curves of your body. You laid on a couch, a few meters away from him, posing; head balanced on your left hand that was on top of your right one, both placed on the arm of the couch, your body was spread sideways; right thigh on top of your left that was lightly extended to the front, creating shadows that were hiding your secret spots.

You had posed for many artists in the past but Regulus was the only one able to bring you self-consciousness. He made you feel vulnerable in front of him and incredibly nervous. Little did you know, to Regulus you were the most beautiful woman. He was in love with you.

Because of you, he was living in a constant contradiction. He wanted to look at you all day every day, but at the same time, he couldn't wait for you to leave so he could hug the couch that touched your body.

The secret to not revealing his feelings for you was to not speak and not look at you. But that day maybe it was the lust in the atmosphere, maybe it was your pose, maybe it was your siren stare, he felt extremely bold.

You watched his Adam's apple rising and falling as he maneuvered his hips to the seat. Regulus' grip on his pencil got harder, so tight almost able to break it in half. His eyes sealed shut for a moment. As if Regulus heard your prayers, he looked at you, eyes dark by shadows, and let the pencil fall to the ground. You repositioned yourself, as you turned your head to the large windows on the side.

You heard the sound of the chair against the wooden floor and then slow steps towards you. You gulped, as you turned around only to see him standing right in front of you, crouched to meet your height.

Your lips separated releasing breaths you didn’t know you were holding. Heartbeat became unsteady when his dirty palm touched your cheek, leaving red stains of paint behind it. He held you, his thumb trailing all the way up until it reached your ear, as his other fingers hugged the side of your neck.

His head leaned close and eyes moved from your sparkling stare to your soft lips. With forehead almost touching forehead and tasting the other's breath, you tented your neck closing the gap between you. Your hand moved to his wrist, fingers wrapping kindly around his pulse.

Regulus tied both hands on the back of your neck lightly standing up and sitting on the couch beside you, then leaning his body against yours.

His lips were silky and felt like you were touching clouds. You let his hand free run down the line between your chest and find his way to the curve of your waist, coloring you as he swam down your body.

You gasped hard at his arm that traveled back on your breast. Regulus' breath was coming out in flustered pants. His lips moved to your jaw, kissing tenderly your neck and then down your collarbones, ending on your chest. You could feel his sweaty hair caressing your skin. You moaned pulling his curls behind, holding them out of his face, while he was licking, lightly sucking your tender skin.

He smiled as he kissed your belly and you breathed out shakily watching the way his grey eyes were fixed on you. He moved lower and lower until he ran his tongue on your pubic hair, his hands rubbing both sides of your outer thighs and then your buttocks.

You chuckled at him, your little laugh breaking the deadly silence that dominated the room. He couldn't help but smile again, his eyes meeting yours, as his fingers moved into the inside of your thighs and then slowly on your knees.

He moved one of your legs and without much thinking, he dived in between them. He looked up at you as he sucked your folds and buried his tongue inside. Your hands pulled his hair and pressed him down on you, not sparing a moment to waste.

You were already wet, Regulus must have realized himself, that's why he was looking at you. Your head fell back on the arm of the couch as you moaned. Every time he got deeper and deeper, faster and faster, sucking your folds hard as if trying to drain them. He made you completely soaked and you were ready to release with trembling legs that he held both sides steady while his head was deep, finding its way inside you.

Feeling that you were ready, Regulus pulled back and sucked your folds. His head came out of your thighs to take a breath and a muffled cry escaped your lips, holding tightly his wrist to the couch.

He leaned down and with a mischievous smile, his tongue lashed at everything it could get while sucking on you at the same time. He had you in his mouth, dripping from his lips.

Regulus stood up and pecked your lips once. Your eyes followed him, your whole body panting, looking at him carelessly unbuttoning his white shirt and tossing it to the floor next to you. You leaned down on the couch to both your elbows gazing at him, anticipation causing you to grin, as he took down his black pants, followed by his stained trunks.

Your head slightly tilted to the side, in your face marked a dreamy look. His body was lean with taut muscles and an erection.

He carefully fell on top of you, on that old worn-out couch. His chest was pressed on top of yours and you could feel his bulge between your legs. He groaned, locking you between his arms, his cock trying to find its way inside you. Your hands took his wet length squeezing it gently before placing it on your opening.

Only the tip of his cock made your whole body shake. You let your head fall back as Regulus pressed down on you, his lips releasing hot breaths on your ear. He kissed you sweetly.

Regulus hovered over you again your faces only centimeters apart, lips almost touching. Both of your hands cupped his face for just a few seconds so you could see him clearly. He was like a wild animal. That blissed-out expression, that tilt of the head, the movement of the Adam's apple struggling to swallow.

Your skins brushed savagely, yet with a strange tenderness against each other. Every move was so barbaric but kind at the same time. You could breathe the other in, stained moans eliciting from both of you.

The couch rattled beneath you as Regulus' pelvis smushed inside you, animalistic screams of delight leaving both your mouths.

« Oh, fuck! », Regulus gasped. « I feel like fucking Pygmalion. » His words made you smile. « Does that make me Galatea? », you asked cheekily. Regulus grinned while his whole body was panting.

Shadows casted by the flinching light of the candles towered over you at the walls making you look five times bigger than you actually were, imitating your every move like mirrors.

« Regulus! », you breathed out as he jerked against you again causing both of you to release at the same time. Regulus tiredly fell on top of you, hugging you tight. His eyes moved up to you and smiled watching your beautiful almost painful grimace.

Hands cupped your flushed panting face, holding it tightly with his shaky grip, and his thumbs wiped away your tears. He pressed his forehead against yours, your sweat mixing up, as he looked into your eyes and then smashed a kiss on your lips.

The summer breeze flew inside dragging the curtains with it and burning off the candles. You looked at him laying on top of you, the moonglow caressing his pale skin, and you thought feeling his heart pounding against your belly, that this was your person and you wanted to stay there, glued to him forever.

hi! omg can i request a dom regulus black trying to keep the reader quiet in his dorm room late at night?? thanks so much <33

"Hush, Kitten"

Regulus Black x Reader

masterlist

requests are open

word count: 1k

MDNI

not sure if this is 100% what you were wanting n its honestly weird writing this cos i imagine regulus being so soft behind closed doors lol but i promise ill have some reggie fluff out soon also

not proof read and this is not my finest work lol sorry !

warnings: domxsub relationship, choking, humiliation(?), rough sex

-

You tapped on the wooden door lightly, your tummy growing tight with nervousness as you made sure not to be too loud. You hadn’t seen Regulus in 3 days and you were growing needy. Regulus opened the door swiftly and furrowed his eyebrows into a frown when he saw you standing there.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He huffed, pulling you into his dorm by the forearm and closing the door quickly. “No one saw you come in, right?”

You shook your head no. Regulus was pretty stubborn about your agreement: no one can know that you guys are hooking up and only he can decide when you were to see each other.

“Well what is it?” Regulus asked as if you were dumb, sitting on the edge of his bed with his legs spread, resting on his hands behind him.

“I-I was just wondering if-” You began but he quickly cut you off.

“Don't act dumb, kitten.” He said as if he was amused. Your cheeks heated as you stood in front of him.

“It's been 3 days.” You finally said clearly, hinting at what you wanted.

“Use your words, Y/N.” Regulus held out his hand and you walked forward towards him. You took his hand and he guided you onto his lap.

“I need you.” You mumbled. You sat sideways on his lap as his hand rested on your thigh, his cold rings sending goosebumps down your bare skin.

“Merlin, you are so fucking needy.” He scoffed. “You think you can just walk in here and get my cock whenever you like?”

You could tell your cheeks were bright pink as you avoided eye contact.

“Answer me, kitten.” He grabbed your jaw harshly and turned your face to look at him. You shook your head no but he simply raised his eyebrows at you.

Before you had a second to think, he had lifted you and thrown you backwards onto the bed. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you watched Regulus pull his black shirt over his head before crawling on top of you.

“Such a little slut for my cock, huh?” He grumbled in your ear before kissing your neck harshly. You nodded your head desperately as the throbbing grew in your lower abdomen. “Wandering to my room in the middle of the night because you’re so desperate for a quick fuck, huh kitten?”

Regulus’ hand gripped on to your underwear and pulled it down your legs before pushing your skirt up your waist.

“Already so wet for me too.” He hummed. “What made you so wet?”

“You, Regulus.” You moaned out, desperate for his touch.

His thumb came into contact with your clit, circling it lightly causing your legs to shake slightly. You let out a cry of pleasure as he knew all the right spots.

“Quiet, kitten.” He mumbled and you obeyed. Your breath was heavy as you tried to stop the moans from surpassing your lips.

Regulus took his fingers away from you before quickly unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down, not bothering to take them off completely.

You felt his hard cock brush against your entrance and you let out another cry of pleasure.

“What did I fucking tell you?” Regulus huffed. He grabbed you by the throat, his hair falling on to your forehead as he got close to you. “Stay fucking quiet.”

You nodded your head with wide eyes as he returned to his position between your legs. He pushed himself in you and you couldn't help but let out a low moan as the tension that had been building the past few days released itself.

He didn’t wait long before pounding himself into you, his soft moans and breaths pouring out into your ear.

You were trying so hard to stay quiet but your mind was growing fuzzy and you couldn’t help but focus on the way his cock hit all the right spots inside of you, the way his pubic bone hit against your clit every time he pounded against you and the way the veins in his neck tensed.

Moans spilled from your mouth as you could feel yourself reaching your high but Regulus only grew more frustrated.

“Shut your fucking mouth, no need for everyone to hear what a fucking cockslut you are for me.” He huffed, bringing up one of his hands and putting his pointer and middle finger in your mouth causing you to gag.

Everytime you stifled a moan he would push his fingers down further, causing tears to brim at your eyes as you continued to choke.

“Aw, can you not handle it, baby?” Regulus mocked you as he fucked you harder, only causing you to cry out louder. You could tell he was close as his thrusts grew sloppier.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, needing his hand to steady himself to continue his pace.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, you were a moaning mess as you were so close to your high.

“Shit.” He mumbled to himself. Regulus continued to pound into you but brought his lips up to yours as a last resort, shoving his tongue down your throat and kissing you passionately to hide the noise.

Your hands reached up to his dark brown curls and your fingertips got tangled in the mess. You knew he hated any form of affection but you were past the point of caring.

You could tell how frustrated he was getting at this, breathing heavily down his nose and thrusting harder into you out of frustration. He separated your lips and instead brought his hand up to your mouth, covering your lips with his palm. You didn’t care anymore as you felt yourself reach your high, moans vibrating against his palm as your walls tightened around him. Your legs were shaking as he followed your high, groaning as he came inside you.

His body fell next to yours lazily as he pushed his hair out of his face.

You both caught your breath next to one another as you turned to face him. You knew you were in trouble, but it was worth it.

Holy hands, will they make me a sinner ?

You seem to have a little secret. Regulus figures you out immediately.

regulus black x fem!reader

warnings: smut

“If you bore holes in them I won't be able to finish my essay, Y/n” 

His voice brings you back from the apparent state of trance you had unconsciously fallen into. Blinking rapidly, you regain perception of the walls of your dorm room surrounding you and the myriad of books scattered across your bed.  You shift your gaze to his gray eyes and you find them already set on you.

“Pardon ?” your voice has a confused edge that almost makes him chuckle.

“My hands” he explains, his tone as neutral as ever “You were staring”

Your eyes go a little wide, like you had been caught stealing the last chocolate frog of the stash. You swallow, trying to compose yourself as best as you can.

“I was doing no such thing” you declare, a bit too solemn and defensive to be the truth.

Regulus pins you with an unimpressed look, his left brow arching just enough to tell you that he isn't buying any of your bullshit.

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. 

It is no use hiding something from Regulus Black. He will find out one way or another, and you got caught right with your hands in the jar.

“Ok, fine” you admit, lifting your shoulders to make it seem like the most casual thing ever “I was looking at your hands”

Regulus’ expression doesn't change, but the glint of amusement flashing in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed.

“More like ogling, I would say” even his tone has a playful bite to it.

You like this side of him. The Regulus who is able to relax a bit and let go when he is surrounded by the people he is comfortable with.

But carefree Regulus also means menace Regulus apparently.

“I wasn't ogling” you grumble, rolling your eyes “I was just admiring them” 

His eyebrows furrow.

“Why ?” he seems intrigued as the question leaves his lips.

Why, he has the courage to ask.

Well the answer is that Regulus Black has the prettiest, hottest, most gorgeous hands you have ever laid eyes on.

They are elegant, slender, the little veins underneath the pale skin gracing your eyes with their presence with every movement he makes, every flex of his muscles, producing a delicious design that hypnotizes you. 

They are smooth but decorated by light calluses, undoubtedly caused by Quidditch, that create a divine contrast with his otherwise untainted skin.

His fingers are long, lean, clad in silver rings that make your mouth water with how exquisitely sultry they make him look.

And suddenly, but not surprisingly, you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to have those hands on you, exploring every inch of your body, dancing on your skin like flames dance in the cold hair of the night. The cool metal of his rings being at odds with your scorching hot skin, making you hiss as his skilled fingers create a burning path over your body, traveling everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your hips, chest, shoulders and stopping right at your neck, wrapping delicately, reverentially around it. Worshipping the sensitive skin, feeling the erratic pulse of your heart and-

“You’re doing it again” his words interrupt your spiraling for the second time that day, sounding dry and apathetic as always, but a hint of teasing twinkles in the otherwise coldness of his eyes.

“You have nice hands, that’s all” you manage to say without giving away all the less than pure thoughts flooding your mind in that moment. “From an artist point of view, obviously” you add, shrugging, trying to make everything less than obvious.

You really hope Regulus didn't learn to cast a Legilimes in his free time, otherwise you were well and truly screwed.

Bringing up your passion for drawing is futile and you know it. You know he knows the drooling over his hands isn't for the sake of art. You can't fool Regulus Black, not even if you try to.

Which is both extremely annoying and criminally hot in your humble opinion.

But pretending is the only thing you can do to not feel embarrassed, holding onto the hope that maybe he doesn’t have you all figured out.

“So you’re saying that your interest is purely artistic ?” he cocks a brow as his head tilts slightly.

There’s something in his voice, in his eyes, that you can’t quite figure.

Your forehead scrunches in confusion.

“Yes, of course” you answer, trying to hide the stutter of your voice as best you can.

You are pretty sure he knows that you aren’t telling the truth, he somehow always knows. He reads you like an open book, and, for someone who doesn’t engage in showing his emotions too often, he is pretty damn good at reading the ones of others. 

So why that question ? You almost expected him to tell you to cut it out and get back to study because that essay isn’t gonna finish itself.

This is new, unexpected. 

Interesting.

“Would you like to draw them ?”

Your eyes go wide in surprise.

Wait.

What ?

Never, in all the years you have known each other, had he offered to model for you. 

He knew about you having an interest in arts, he even saw a couple of your drawings and paintings and he often asked about them and how they were coming up, but he never asked to be in them.

You never brought up the suggestion either. He is a reserved guy and he loathes having eyes on him, so you figured he would’ve never accepted even if you did.

That never stopped you from sketching him from afar, though. Those gorgeous features deserve to be portrayed.

But why the sudden proposition ?

You aren’t stupid. Regulus might know you like the back of his hand, but you could say the same about him. And this, whatever this might be, is not like him at all. 

Regulus never does anything for nothing, there is always an explanation, a reason to his every move. You think even his breaths are perfectly calculated.

But this time the why gets lost on you, and the harder you try to understand the less it all makes sense.

“I can see the gears in your brain twinsting and turning,” he says, calm and composed as ever.

He is sitting on your bed, the quill he was using to write his Charms paper now abandoned next to him. His back is perfectly straight, leaning on the headbord to support his weight. The raven strands of his hair create soft waves that frame his face in a delicate and enchanting way. His lips are stretched in a rare, playful smile, curling up slightly on the left side.

He is beautiful. Dangerously so.

“It’s just-” you are confused, there is no doubt about that, but most of all you are intrigued “You have never asked me before”

“I know” 

That’s his only answer. Simple, concise. Enigmatic. 

Just like him.

“So why now ?” 

The question escapes your lips before you can stop it. You can’t help it, curiosity is consuming you, and the possibility of learning a new part of him makes your skin tingle with excitement.

“Why not ?” he shrugs “There is a first time for everything, right ? So why not now ?”

There is still that glint of something in his eyes. You don’t know what it is, you don’t think you would be able to give it a name even if you knew, but it's there, and it’s strong.

“I’ll get my supplies then” 

You slowly get up from the bed, feeling your heart in your throat in a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and you retrieve your album and a pencil.

When you sit back down you notice that the books have been neatly stacked in a small pile next to your bed and all the papers, previously scattered all over your sheets, are nowhere to be seen.

“Figured we might need the space” he says, like he read your mind.

“Thank you”, you give him a small smile before opening your album, turning the pages one by one, until you find a blank sheet, ready to be filled.

“Where do you need me ?” 

The way he utters those words with the utmost nonchalance, apparently unaware of the effect they have on you, nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.

Everywhere, you think, before mentally smacking yourself.

You need to get a grip, for Merlin’s sake.

“Right there is fine,” you're able to say without your voice faltering “just angle your hands towards me, so the light is right”

He does as he is told, adjusting his position and moving his hands a bit to the right, veins in full display and rings shining under the warm rays of the sunset seeping through the window.

“That’s good” your mouth is suddenly dry as you gulp at that sight.

He is a bit far, and the light doesn’t hit as perfectly as you had expected, but you’ll work with it. If squinting your eyes a bit is the price to maintain your mental sanity then so be it.

Then you start drawing. The only sound filling the room is the gentle scraping of your pencil as your eyes focus on the white sheet in front of you, your gaze shifting to his hands ever so often to take a peek at them, like you haven't learnt every detail by heart.

You can feel his eyes on you. You try not to focus on it, but the shivers those pools of the color of a summer storm send down your spine are difficult to ignore.

“You’re straining your eyes” he blurts out of the blue. And it’s not a question.

Observant as always.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, your gaze never leaving the paper “this distance is good for perspective” 

“But it’s a problem for the lighting”

Those words make you lift your head up, your brows knotted in a frown.

How does he-

“And what would you know about the lighting ?” you eye him suspiciously, a small grin curving your lips.

“I guess all your rambles about that muggle painter weren’t in vain” he says, and there’s a cheekiness in his tone that is completely new to you “Caravaggio, right ?”

Your grin turns into a full smile.

“Right,” you nod, your eyes widening a little “I can’t believe you actually remember”

“I remember a lot of things,” he remarks defensively.

“Only those important enough to you” the teasing in your voice is light, playful, as your pencil glides on the sheet swiftly, adding strokes and shadows here and there.

There’s a beat of silence.

One second. Two. Three. And then-

“Exactly”

Your hand halts every movement, freezing completely. You look up from your paper and you find his gaze already on you.

Suddenly you are lost. Your heart is beating so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually able to hear it.

The implications of that single word swirl in your brain, creating a hurracane of thoughts that almost gives you whiplash. 

He doesn’t give you the time to even think properly about what he may have just suggested, because he decides to speak again. 

“I can come closer if you need me to” his voice is lower, deeper, oozing with that same something he’s had in his eyes since he caught you staring at his heavenly hands.

You want to scream. You have no idea of what the hell is going on and it’s confusing the shit out of you.

You know he is asking for that forsaken drawing you still have in your lap, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it. The electricity in the room is so high it feels like an open cable sending sparks flying everywhere, setting the air on fire. 

The only coherent thought in your brain is a chorus of yes, please and nothing else.

So you cave.

“You can,” you manage to say, because the necessity to protect your sanity might be strong, but the need to have him close to you is apparently stronger “if you want to”

His gaze is so penetrating you feel it in your soul, consuming you from the inside out and setting your whole body ablaze.

It’s compelling, hypnotizing even. 

“This is not about what I want, Y/n”

Oh, the way those words leave his perfect lips, making shudders erupt all over your body should be studied. 

Your world shifts on its axes and it starts spinning ten times faster. Because he knows. 

He knows. 

“We're not talking about art anymore, are we ?” you ask, swallowing soundly as your breath gets stuck in your throat.

“Were we ever talking about that in the first place ?” his question is rhetorical. He doesn’t need an answer because he already knows it. He figured you out, like he always does.

So what was the point in pretending anymore ?

“No,” you admit “I guess we weren't” your trambling hands move the paper out of the way.

There is a spark in his eyes. It’s foreign, thrilling even, and it makes your skin prickle in the best way.

Suddenly he moves. He shifts his weight forward, approaching you slowly. The veins in his arms and hands bulging from the pressure and knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.

“So tell me” he whispers, crawling to you bit by bit, like a hunter advancing towards his prey. He seems to be calm, poised, totally in control of his body as he comes closer and closer.

It’s his eyes that betray him. 

They have always been the window to his feelings, talking more than his mouth even did. And right now they are burning, engulfed by a heat that makes your legs weak and your heart roar. The realization hits you, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins.

They are hungry.

“Tell you what ?” you stutter, unable to regain a hold of yourself. You can’t breathe, your palms are sweaty, you feel hot all over and he is close, so damn close.

He stops right in front of you, mere inches between your faces and a tension so heavy you can cut it with a butter knife.

“What you want” the warmth of his breath delicately caresses your skin. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his eyes following the movement intently almost making you squirm under his gaze.

“You seem to know what I want” you murmur breathlessly, your body heating up in response to his proximity. 

Those hands, protagonists of some of the filthiest dreams you’ve ever had, are right next to you. Close enough to graze the skin of your thighs with his knuckles, but never indulging in the act. Like he is teasing you, waiting for you to beg for it. You shift your gaze to them and you swallow hard, the need to feel them on you growing stronger every second that passes. 

You are about to fucking combust.

His silver eyes are still fixed on you, intense and magnetic, as they follow your line of sight.

“I won't move a muscle unless you tell me to, Y/n” 

Those words, mouthed so close to your lips and mixed with the low, velvet-like husk of his voice, make your legs clench and your stomach churn in the best way possible.

You can’t take it anymore.

You move forward, abandoning your position on the bed to place your legs on each side of his hips, almost straddling him. Your hands are on his shoulders, helping you to keep your balance, feeling the lean muscles underneath the shirt as you hover over him.

His head tilts up, eyes sharp and hot and glued to yours. You hear him suppress a hiss as your thighs brush his hips. His arms are still next to him, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white.

He is restraining himself. From touching you. 

Your thoughts are clouded, your mind hazy and completely out of it. The only thing you want right now is for him to place those perfect fucking hands on you and never stop.

“Do it” your voice is so weak and breathy it’s a miracle he hears you.

“Do what ?” he mouths, so close to your lips it makes your head spin.

You’re needy, desperate even, but you don’t care. You don’t have time to think right now. You want to feel.

“Touch me” you beg.

“Where ?” he sounds just as gone as you are, and you finally crumble.

“Everywhere”

It’s nothing more than a whisper but it shakes the both of you like an earthquake. 

You meet in the middle, your lips colliding and completely knocking the breath out of you.

His mouth is sinful, greedy, chasing yours with a hunger that almost makes you melt on the spot. You get lost in the softness of it, in the ungodly brush of your tongues making you moan breathlessly. You bite and nibble and lick and he follows you, matching the languid pace just as eagerly, as your hands tangle in his hair, pulling at the black strands delicately. The low groan that escapes his throat sends goosebumps all over you.

You are so focused on the filthy dance of your mouths that you almost miss the agonizingly slow graze of his fingers on the exposed flesh of your legs, gently tracing a path on your thighs.

The metal of his rings meets the hotness of your skin and you hiss.

Oh, it’s just as delicious as you imagined.

“Ah- fuck” you pant, millimeters away from him. Your head feels light, dizzy. 

You feel like you’re dreaming, lost in your own fantasies.

But his hands running up and down your thighs feel too fucking good to be just a product of your imagination. They travel slowly, excruciatingly so, making you lose your mind with every new inch of skin they explore. 

Until they sneak under your skirt, reaching your hips to gently knead the supple skin, applying enough force to bring you forward.

“Sit” It feels more like a plea than an order but-

Holy shit.

A gasp escapes your mouth before you can stop it.

Every cell of your body threatens to explode as he pushes your weight on him all the way, making you straddlle him completely.

“Fucking finally” he curses, more to himself than to you, like he has been waiting for this moment his whole life.

His eyes are dark, fogged up by lust and need, and it's the lewdest thing you have ever witnessed.

“I have never seen you like this” you whisper directly on his lips, nibbling on the plush flesh.

He smirks, smirks for Salazar's sake, as his fingers move, reprising their mission to make you lose every ounce of control.

“It seems you were busy looking at something else”

His thumbs rub the skin of your inner thigh in a hypnotizing manner, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.

You whimper as they get closer and closer to your core, your grip on the junction between his neck and shoulder tightening in pleasure.

But he must take it as some sort of sign of discomfort because he halts suddenly.

“Want me to stop ?” his eyes search for yours, the veiled concern in them making your heart stutter.

“Don’t you even dare” you say, a mere breath away from him before you dive in, capturing his mouth again.

It's messy and dirty and you get addicted to his taste way too quickly.

His hands move up, massaging your skin at every caress of your tongues, until they reach the hem of your panties.

He moves away from your lips for a quick moment, and he looks at you.

The silent ‘Can I ?’ written in his eyes almost makes you swoon.

You nod your head.

“I need words, chérie” he whispers sensually.

The combination of his right hand so close to your most sensitive spot, his left one traveling up to your hip, holding it tightly, posessivly, and that fucking pet name almost make you cum on the spot.

“Yes” you practically beg.

Only then he resprises his journey of exquisit torture along your body.

“Shit-” you quiver as he kisses your neck, branding the sensitive skin with his lips and teeth. His hands move, fingers skilled and sinful as they reach your heat.

You mewl as they make contact with the light material of your underwear.

“Jesus Christ” hs hisses a groan “you’re soaked”

A series of choked out whimpers leaves your lips as he strokes his fingers over your panties, feeling your wetness through the fabric.

“Fuck- Reg” a moan ripples from your lips when his thumb brushes your clit tentativley, making you gasp. Your hands fly to his hair, lightly pulling the soft strands with trembling fingers.

“Look at you, all horny and needy over my hands” his voice is tantalizing but you can hear the breathlessness, the strain in it. He is affected by this just as much as you are and it makes you go almost feral.

“Please” you breathe. You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Your mind is too hazy, too fogged up by lust and need to have a single coherent thought in it.

But he sure does know, because his digits move your panties to the side, just enough to glide over your slickness, making contact with the tender skin of your folds and spreading your wetness all over.

Finally, finally the hands consuming your every thought are on you, right where you had craved and imagined them the most.

You arch your back in ecstasy, biting your lip.

And it’s when his middle finger eases inside of you, slowly breaching your velvety walls, that you lose it completely.

The air gets knocked out of your lungs, liquid fire engulfs every cell of your body, every nerve and muscle consumed by pleasure.

“Regulus-” it’s the only thing you manage to mewl as he slides in and out of you in a rhythm so sensual and sultry it makes you melt. The cold metal of his ring meets the warm, sensitive skin of your cunt with every prod, creating a delicious contrast.

You never break eye contact, your gazes locked together drinking in every little detail, every wave of bliss swimming in them.

“Is this what you fantasized about, love ?” he pants right on your lips “All the times I caught you staring, is this what you were imagining my hands doing ? Fucking you senseless, feeling how tight and needy you are ?”

His words are as dirty as his eyes as he slides another finger into you, making you inhale sharply and stretching you out so good you could almost cry. 

“Ohmygodyes” you moan as your hips start moving to their own accord, meeting the prodding of his fingers eagerly, riding his hand like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

“But this is not the only fantasy you have, right chérie ?” he teases, going faster, harder, pumping mercilessly and leaving you a blubbering mess.

His left hand leaves its place on your hip and moves up, grazing the soft skin of your stomach, the supple and tender flesh of your breasts, the natural dip of your collarbones, worshipping every inch of your skin in their path, until they reach their goal.

“I bet you thought about this too, didn't you ?” 

You were always sure this would remain just one of your daydreams, the kind of dirty thought that should remain in your mind and nowhere else. But Regulus Black was Regulus Black and reading you was one of his favorite hobbies.

It still comes as a surprise, though, when he delicately wraps his hand around your throat, resting it there, feeling every pulse of your heart, every pump of your blood and adorning your neck with the prettiest fucking necklace you could ever ask for.

“Yes” it’s nothing more than a breath, but it sends him into a frenzy. His right thumb rubs your clit relentlessly, adding to the unforgiving pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you with lewd, wet squelches. The whimpers coming out of your mouth are raw, filthy and downright pornographic as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Your head is in the clouds, a hundred thousands miles from earth as the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on you, fucking you to your release as the one on your neck squeezes the faintest bit, enough to almost send you over the edge.

His left thumb leaves its place right above your jugular, moving upwards to caress your jawline, your cheek and, lastly, your lips.

You can feel the digit caressing the red, bitten flesh, brushing it with reverence, worshiping it with his whole being. His heated gaze is bewitched, entranced by your mouth parting, welcoming him past your lips, and lightly grazing the pad with your teeth, before enveloping it wholly, letting him feed you the taste of his finger.

“Bloody fucking hell, Y/n” he rasps, voice low and dangerously close to pleading as you suck on his thumb like it's the tastiest treat you have ever put in your mouth.

The hand on your cunt speeds its pace, pounding in and out of you like a fucking machine, the vibrations on your little bundle of nerves getting more intense by the second, sending you over the edge in a mess of moans and whimpers.

“Reg, fuck, I'm-”

You reach your release with his name on your lips, back arched and hips rolling to help you ride your orgasm on those unholy fingers of his. 

Your vision is blurred, your brain fuzzy and overwhelmed by bliss as you slowly come back to your senses.

It takes you a few seconds to regain control of your body and mind, but when you do you are graced with a vision you are sure you will never forget.

The ever composed and collected Regulus Black is right in front of you with his expression contorted in pure lust, eyes bleary and unfocused, hair tousled by your hands relentlessly stroking them, lips red and glossy from the heated kisses, tie loose, crooked and shirt crumpled.

He is a mess.

The hottest mess you have ever seen.

You're still not fully out of your head space when he speaks again.

“You're loud” he grins, his tone teasing but still a little raspy.

“You're filthy” you bite back weakly, your voice hoarse and strained. 

“Maybe. But I don’t think I'm the only one” 

The fingers that have been inside of you not even a moment ago are now in front of you, coated and glistening with your essence.

He slowly brings them closer to your mouth, and you don't even think twice before eagerly welcoming them inside it.

The taste of yourself mixes with the metallic tinge of his rings as you suck leisurely, restraining a moan before he takes them out with a wet pop.

“Sale fille” he groans in french, lowly and right on your parted lips, before he dives in an alluring kiss. (Dirty girl)

It's slower than all the others you shared, but it's deeper, sensual and it almost gets you worked up all over again.

His tongue meets yours in a erotic dance and when the taste of your very essence coats his tastebuds a moan rumbles in his throat.

“You're sweet” his voice is nothing more than a whisper as his teeth nibble at your lower lip gently.

“Want me to find out if you're sweet, too ?” You offer with a teasing smile on your lips . His hands might be your biggest fantasy, but they sure as hell are not the only part of him you fantasize about.

“Eager, are we ?” he teases playfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “Not today, chérie”

The little pet name creates butterflies in your stomach and makes your cheeks warm, but doesn't hide your disappointment. 

“Why ?” you ask, your hands going to fiddle with his tie.

“As I told you, this is not about what I want” he explains, his arms circling you in a loose hug “and I don't know if you noticed, but it's pretty late”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, and only then you realize that the sun has already set and the room would be totally surrounded by darkness if it wasn't for the few magic candles lighting up automatically when twilight hits.

Your eyes widen.

“How long have we been here for ?” your voice has a panicked hint to it, making Regulus laugh.

“I'm pretty sure dinner is getting served right now” he says nonchalantly, like it's the most normal thing ever to engage in sexual activities with your best friend and miss supper because of it.

“Which might be for the best,” he adds.

“Why ?” you ask in genuine confusion.

“Because I’m the only one lucky enough to hear your dirty little sounds” he says with a shit-eating grin before kissing you again.

Thank you for reading 💖