You cannot imagine how I ran when I got the notif. It was so xdcwvbebw and cvscebw and also xwvwvwbbe<3333 yeah. Also…where is that alternative scene you wrote babe🫢? (*Fake caughs* nothing, I said nothing at all)
HI BABY!!!!!!!!!!!
last reggie POV.... i canny believe it.... (except actually one of the silly little epilogue's is in his POV, but still) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
OKAY SO i know i love to toe the line with my M rated smut scenes and after seeking guidance from my wonderful knowledgeable pals it was determined that the original was a little TOO far. there aren't a huge amount of changes but... well yeah
here you go sweetheart ;)
(NSFW below the cut)
He crushes his lips against James’s like he’s got something to prove, even though he doesn’t. Not to James, never to James.
His lips are cold and wet and the best thing Regulus has ever tasted, and he moans as James’s tongue slips between his teeth and the hand tangled in his hair twists, dull pain tingling across his scalp as James pulls, hard, making him moan and roll his hips shamelessly against him.
“Fuck, Reggie, can I–” he pants against Regulus’s mouth, his right hand slipping down wet skin from the small of Regulus’s back to the base of his spine like he owns him, like he knows him, and James’s skin is so hot against his own that Regulus almost expects to see steam rising from where they’re joined.
“Yes,” he moans, chest hitching as James’s hand slips further down to grab at his arse, fingertips digging roughly into his skin. “Please.”
The hand at his nape disappears for a moment but Regulus is kept happy by the soft, wet lips against the sensitive skin of his throat, the words James is pressing into his skin with his teeth and tongue not making any sense until Regulus is being lowered onto a thick, warm blanket beneath the umbrella charm, a warming charm rippling through the air.
“Gods, you’re so pretty, look at you,” James tells him as he kneels above Regulus’s naked body, his legs splayed wide and still clinging to James’s hips like he’s desperate, and he is, he is desperate, so desperate for it that Regulus wants to beg, wants to surrender, wants to take anything and everything he’s given as long as it’s James’s; his lips, his tongue, his fingers, his cock.
He looms over Regulus and he arches his back and bares his throat in response, and he’s panting, chest heaving, wrecked and ruined already and he can’t take his eyes away from James’s own soft, deep honey, warm and dark with a look that makes his blood rush and his skin tingle in anticipation.
James falls towards him, one hand planted on either side of his body, kissing Regulus’s lips before that mouth—that sinful, sensual fucking mouth—slips down his throat, teeth nipping over his clavicles, hot tongue teasing peaked nipples and lapping up the rain water that still cascades across Regulus’s skin, over the curves of his ribcage.
The drag of James’s tongue and teeth down his navel, then up and around the curve of his waist is wicked and teasing and perfect, and he thinks he might still be on fire; that he can still feel the flames lick at his bones beneath his skin.
It’s when James brushes his lips ever so slightly over the curve of Regulus’s hip, mouth slipping along Regulus’s iliac crest like he’s the gods’ most devout subject following the path to heaven with his tongue—if heaven could ever feel this depraved, this unholy—that Regulus’s stomach clenches and his cock throbs, and a moan slips out from between his teeth as he throws his head back, one arm raised above him to grapple in the wet grass and mud as if clinging on for dear life.
“You gorgeous thing,” James whispers into the crease of his thigh, their eyes meeting over the rise and fall of Regulus’s heaving chest, but only for a moment, because that’s all Regulus can stand before he has to look away, shaking and biting his lip, eyelids fluttering at the feeling of hot breath against rain-slicked skin.
“You’ve got the prettiest hole I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles as he runs his lips across the insides of Regulus’s thighs, strong fingers digging hard into the backs of them, thumbs spreading Regulus apart like only the most obscene of offerings.
“I’m gonna get you so wet,” James promises him, teeth biting short and sharp into the meat of Regulus’s arse like an impulse—a temptation he couldn’t resist—and Regulus cries out, voice getting lost below the rumbling thunder. “Gonna finger you until you cry, baby. You’re gonna be so ready. So gorgeous.”
His own teeth are clenched shut because he knows if they aren’t then he’ll let James’s name slip out on a moan, and he will; he wants to, wants to chant James’s name like a prayer, like a hymn, like a promise and a curse and a song and a plea, but not yet.
Not until he can’t bear it.
But fuck had he forgotten about the things James says when he’s got Regulus naked and wanting beneath him, begging for his touch with his lip between his teeth and his fingers clenched, desperate, curled around James’s hair and throat and the swell of his bicep.
The umbrella charm is weakening with James’s distraction, and light rain drips down the sides of Regulus’s face as he tilts his head even further back against the blanket beneath him, curves his spine even more, driving himself down against James’s hand as he slips his fingers inside of him, one, by one, by one, achingly slowly.
“Please, please, please,” he begs—seconds, moments, minutes later, utterly and completely desperate, a slave to the onslaught of James’s three crooked fingers and the tongue that’s curled around Regulus’s cock, and he can’t take it any longer.
“Go on, baby, say it,” James tells him, lips brushing Regulus’s own as he bottoms out, as Regulus is finally filled, their naked bodies pressed together in the warm air and the cold rain that falls heavier and heavier over them as he lies there and takes it, aching sweetly where they’re joined.
There are tears pooling in Regulus’s eyes and James’s thumb in his mouth and he can’t look away from his face framed by the stormy sky above, and the bright, warm eyes staring back into his own.
“James,” he whispers.
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