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Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
M/M
Fandom:
Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationships:
Regulus Black/James Potter, Regulus Black & Sirius
Black
Characters:
Regulus Black, James Potter, Barty Crouch Jr.,
Evan Rosier, Pandora Rosier, Lily Evans, Dorcas
Meadowes, Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black,
Remus Lupin, James Potter's Aston Martin, Minor
Characters
Additional Tags:
Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe -
Modern Setting, Strippers & Strip Clubs, POV
Regulus Black, Wealth, CEO James Potter, he is
FILTHY rich, aka "the Rich Simp", Stripper Regulus
Black, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Explicit
Sexual Content, Found Family, Angst, there's a
heavy dose of Black brothers angst in this one,
Happy Ending, Smoking, Alcohol, Drug Use, Drug
Addiction, Latino James Potter, James' thighs were
made to be ridden, Past Regulus Black/Barty Crouch
Jr./Evan Rosier, Minor Regulus Black/Male
Character(s), Daddy Kink, Sugar daddy/baby
dynamics, Dom/sub Undertones, off-screen
discussions about safe words happen, Gender
Identity, Genderfluid Regulus Black, Regulus uses
he/him but prefers that others use they/them,
there's a shift in later chapters to they/them in
Regulus' narrative, emphasis on gender euphoria
not dysphoria, James calls Regulus 'Princess', me
and the limos are at it again, inappropriate use of
champagne, James Potter has a stockings kink,
Regulus Black has a tongue piercing, Regulus
Black's Raging Praise Kink, Jegulus Vers/Switch
Agenda, Jegulus, Background Relationships,
Additional Warnings In Author's Note
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of chew me up ● Next Work
Collections:
Jegulus that i loved <3333, i will still read these
when I’m old, fics that make me astral project, the
cosmos, if these books were people they could rail
me, The old gen
Stats:
Published: 2024-02-03 Completed: 2024-08-08
Words: 261,000 Chapters: 25/25 Comments:
4,128 Kudos: 8,983 Bookmarks: 2,152 Hits:
453,981
chew me up, but
don’t spit me out
damagecontrol
Chapter 10: now it’s back to the
intro, back to the bar
Notes:
happy birthday James Potter, you
would've loved silly socks and riding
a Ducati through Italy <3
(See the end of the chapter for more
notes.)
Regulus doesn’t know what time it is when he stirs.
The sun has barely risen above the city line, but it
still paints their room in a soft orange and yellow
glow.
His head rests on James’ chest, and he can hear a
strong, rhythmic heartbeat. This alone is enough to
nearly lull him back to sleep. But even with James
warm and solid beside him, he’s too awake now. He
sighs, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his
eyes.
Shifting slightly, he looks up to take in James’ parted
lips and relaxed expression. He’s fast asleep, each
breath a soft snore. His legs are tangled in the sheets
they deemed not ruined, but at some point, one or
both of them kicked at the bedding. It puts the
entirety of James’ naked body on display, his skin
golden in the soft light of early morning.
Regulus trails fingertips down the center of James’
sternum, his abdomen. Stops at his belly button and
smirks when muscles twitch under the featherlight
touch. James makes a quiet noise when Regulus
repeats the motion, slipping lower this time, but he
doesn’t wake.
Careful not to jostle him, Regulus grabs the
discarded bottle of lube near his pillow. He pops the
cap, flinching at the sharp click. Despite it, James
doesn’t stir. He has an arm thrown out behind
Regulus, the other bent up on his pillow near his
temple. His palm is upturned, and his fingers twitch
every so often.
With painful slowness, Regulus moves to kneel
between James’ thighs. His legs are splayed out, one
bent at the knee. For the first time ever, Regulus is
thankful rather than irritated he’s with a man who
sleeps like a starfish.
He warms cold liquid between his fingers. Bites the
inside of his cheek to keep quiet when he reaches
back to circle his entrance. It’s tender but still loose,
and he slips one finger in with ease. It’s a fight to
swallow the moan in his throat. His fingers are
slimmer than James’, and they’re almost a
disappointment after last night.
Almost.
Pleasure curls around his spine as he slowly fingers
himself open. He follows the inside of James’ thigh
with a steady hand. Bends forward to nose at the
divot where James’ leg meets his groin. He hums low
in his throat, no longer interested in letting James
sleep through this.
James comes to in stages. First with a quiet, low
noise, then with mumbled, slurred Spanish. He
searches for Regulus beside him, rubbing at his eyes.
“Baby? Where—?”
Regulus shifts forward to blow warm breath over the
base of James’ cock. It lies soft against his stomach,
no more awake than he is.
“Reg? What are you—Oh. Oh, fuck, Regulus.”
James moans deep in his chest; it’s a broken sound
thick with sleep. It turns to something needier when
Regulus rolls one of James’ balls around on his
tongue before he switches to do the same to the
other. James’ legs spasm, his knees drawn up slightly
so he can dig his heels into the mattress.
“Good morning to me,” he marvels, squirming when
Regulus digs nails into the inside of his thigh. He
runs the flat of his tongue from the base of James’
rapidly filling length to the tip, collecting a small bead
of clear liquid with a throaty moan. “Oh, that’s—
that’s heaven.”
Unbridled glee unfurls behind Regulus’ ribs. He
watches from underneath his lashes, pleased when
James pushes up on his elbows for a better view. His
eyes, no longer clouded with sleep, darken at the
sight of Regulus kneeling between his thighs.
It’s slower than last night. Regulus is in control now,
and he makes sure James knows it. When his hips
buck up for more, Regulus’ nails dig into the inside of
his thigh until he hisses. And when he drops back on
the pillow, mumbling in a nonsensical Spanglish
mess, Regulus gives him nothing but lazy, unhurried
licks to the head of his leaking cock.
It isn’t until James starts to beg, to mumble please,
baby, I can’t take this, that Regulus swallows him
down without warning. It’s a startled shout, a string
of swears, then a pleasure-laced groan.
“That mouth, baby, lo haces tan bien que I can’t—”
James laughs at his own slip, but it shifts into a
moan when Regulus pulls off of him with a soft pop.
“Agh, no puedo pensar en nada mas.”
Bracing one hand on the bed for balance, Regulus
pushes a second finger into himself. The sounds he
makes are low, filled with pleasure and vibrating
through his throat. He glances up to see wild hazel
eyes flitting between where his tongue runs lazily
through the slit of James’ cock, and where his fingers
disappear into his own body.
“Fucking hell. Se siente tan bien que—God, baby,
look at you. You’re gorgeous.” James reaches down
to brush an errant curl from Regulus’ forehead. His
fingers trace around the shape of Regulus’ mouth,
and he says lowly, “Tu boca me vuelve loco. Did you
know that?”
Regulus hollows his cheeks, quirking a brow. He pulls
off slowly, then grazes his teeth down James’ shaft.
“No, because I don’t speak Spanish. I never know
what you’re on about.”
“Too bad.” James’ grin goes a bit crooked. He looks
blissed out, eyes glazed over with lust. “I can say the
dirtiest things to you and you’ll just…never know.”
“That’s not fair. Say them in English.”
“Why should I?”
In lieu of a proper reply, Regulus swallows James all
the way to the back of his throat. It earns him a
choked groan, another fucking hell, that’s good. He
loses himself in this—in the feel of James hot and
heavy on his tongue, and in the building pleasure of
his own fingers curling deep.
His jaw aches by the time James mumbles in a panic,
“Baby, I’m—Esperate, esperate, espe—Wait, wait,
c’mere, shit.” There’s an urgent hand in his curls,
tugging. He whines at the loss of something on his
tongue when James drags him up by his hair.
“I wasn’t done,” he snaps, eyes narrowed.
James is flushed a lovely crimson shade that colors
his cheeks and chest. “I know, but I wanted this
instead.”
Still pouting but not entirely displeased, Regulus lets
James shift his hips back. The pressure of a blunt
head against his rim pulls a needy whine from his
throat, and he inhales a shaky breath when it’s
guided into him slow, slow—
“Relax, love. I know you can take it.”
He buries his face in James’ neck to lick at his
Adam’s apple, his pulse point. Strong hands guide
Regulus’ hips down inch by inch by inch, until he’s
fully seated. It’s an exquisite stretch, a slight burn,
but at James’ gentle coaxing, he melts until all he
feels is full.
“So good,” James murmurs in his ear. “You are so, so
good for me.”
He urges Regulus’ hips forward, mumbling praise into
his shoulder. This time is gentler; there’s no frantic
rush like last night. Regulus hides soft, breathy
noises in James’ neck. His cock is trapped between
their bodies, the friction not enough to bring him to
the edge but still a taste of something sweet.
He plants his hands on James’ chest, fingers curled
into hard muscle. His nails leave behind little
crescents. The clock on the nightstand reads 7:29
a.m., but even without it, Regulus would know this
early morning hour simply by the way James moves
inside him.
It’s with slow, smooth rolls of his hips, each stroke
deep and languid. They meet in the middle, and
James watches with an intensity that turns Regulus
inside out from the heat of it.
James seems to wake fully in these liminal moments.
He pushes up on one hand and circles an arm around
Regulus’ waist, maneuvering their bodies to get his
knees underneath him. It pushes him deeper, shifts
the angle, and Regulus whimpers into the curve of
his shoulder, toes curling in the messy sheets.
He tries to move faster, to plant his feet and use the
leverage to search for more—of James, of friction, of
that fullness, of anything, but James’ arm tightens
around his middle to hold them flush together.
“Easy, baby. Slow down,” he says into Regulus’ curls
with a faint laugh. “We don’t have to rush.”
“I know, but this—this feels so good.” He drops his
head back, and James latches onto his throat. He
rolls his hips, finding friction in the heat and hard
planes of James’ stomach. It’s all he can do with
James’ arm looped so tightly around his waist. It
keeps them close, a fire building slowly.
Without warning, James adjusts again. He lays
Regulus down with his head at the foot of the bed,
murmurs, “I should be gentle with you,” and looms
over him with a crooked grin. “But I don’t think you
want that. Do you, Princess?”
Regulus breathes a soft, “Oh,” and shakes his head
so violently his brain rattles in his skull. Words die on
his tongue when James grips his chin. It’s the curl of
strong fingers, of a kiss that wipes his mind clean of
anything other than James James James James—
Almost as if in acquiescence, James hooks his arms
under Regulus’ knees, all but bends him in half, and
—yes. Regulus huffs a pleased little laugh, grinning
from ear to ear. This is what he wanted; something
fast and greedy and wild. Two fingers pushed past his
lips that he can take eagerly between his teeth.
James swears under his breath, one hand fisted in
the sheets near Regulus’ head. It doesn’t take long;
James finds what he’s looking for. He chuckles with
his teeth sunk into the soft inside of a slender thigh
when Regulus cries out. Stars burst behind his
eyelids, and fire builds steadily in his spine. James
doesn’t let up.
“You’re so pretty when you break,” he murmurs,
pushing his fingers down on Regulus’ tongue. “Show
me.”
He claws at James’ shoulders; it splits skin, draws a
quiet hiss. Pleasure rips through him when the
fingers in his mouth slip away to wrap around his
cock. His stomach tightens, but he thinks, not yet,
not yet, not yet, even as he hurtles to the edge.
“Regulus,” James murmurs in his ear, so soft and
reverent he shivers. “You can come.” His voice dips
lower when he adds, “You take me like a damn
dream, baby. So pretty like this.”
Regulus breaks like a vase thrown on marble floors.
His back bows, and his vision goes white. Thick ropes
stripe his abdomen, more warmth on his already
burning skin. He’s still floating when James follows
after with a strangled groan and buries himself to the
hilt.
Except for the sounds of their breathing, the
aftermath is silent. Regulus’ blood pounds an
unsteady rhythm in his ears. James isn’t much better
off—he’s sweat-slicked, and scratches mar his
shoulders. Muscles expand and contract under his
skin while he tries to catch his breath. It puffs hot
against Regulus’ throat.
“Good morning,” whispers Regulus, a bit shy. His
fingers brush through James’ sweaty curls. “How’d
you sleep?”
“Bloody fantastic, actually.” James breathes deep,
exhaling with a low groan. “You?”
“Better than I have in a while.”
“Good.” He peppers kisses along Regulus’ collarbone
to the hollow of his throat before pulling away. At
Regulus’ protest, he grins. “I’m not going anywhere,
love. I want to try something.”
“But—”
“Hush.”
Regulus’ mouth snaps shut; he doesn’t have the
energy to argue. But he still grumbles his displeasure
when James leaves him empty, only to yelp in
surprise at the soft, teasing press of a thumb to his
abused rim. “James?” he asks apprehensively.
There’s no reply, but James settles between Regulus’
thighs on his knees. His brow creases, then he says,
“Lie on your stomach.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“Find your limit.”
Regulus’ breath catches in his chest. Swallowing, he
turns onto his stomach, wincing when his spent cock
brushes soft linen. He sends another silent apology
to the hotel for ruining their sheets so terribly, but all
thought leaves him when James’ hand curves around
the back of his thigh to pin him down.
Again, he asks, “James?”
“Not right now.”
Oh.
He exhales sharply and pillows his chin on his
forearms. Outside their room, the city of Milan wakes
little by little. The sun is higher now; it bathes
everything in a brighter glow, and he’s all too aware
of how on display he is. It makes him squirm, hot
under his skin, but James’ hand tightens on his thigh.
“You’re so full of me,” James says, almost reverent.
He pushes one finger and then a second into
Regulus, chuckling at the startled noise that crawls
out of his throat. It’s an easy slide to the last
knuckle. “So wet, too.”
Regulus aches, overstimulated to a point where
pleasure slips into pain slips into pleasure slips into—
“You were made for me, weren’t you?” James’ fingers
curl down, and Regulus writhes like he’s been
electrocuted.
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t,” he mumbles nonsensically,
eyes squeezed tightly shut. “It’s too—I’m not—”
James’ fingers still inside him. “Tell me to stop and
I’ll stop, love.”
They both know Regulus won’t.
Instead, he pushes his hips back, gasps, “Keep
going,” and buries his face in the curve of his elbow.
Before he can manage a full breath, James splays a
hand flat over his lower back and fingers him with
the same eager greediness as when they fuck. It’s
relentless, and he doesn’t let up even when Regulus’
muscles tighten like coiled springs.
The release is violent; his body isn’t on board with
this even as he breaks into a thousand pieces on
fingers that don’t stop, that keep moving. It’s too
much, the overstimulation a terrible, wonderful thing.
Tears prick the corners of his eyes, blurring Milan in
the distance, and his skin stretches thin over his
bones.
When the high ebbs, he tries to scramble away from
James’ merciless fingers, chest heaving and stomach
sticky with cum and sweat, but he doesn’t make it
very far before there’s a hand around his ankle, its
grip a vice. It drags him from the edge of the bed
and back within James’ reach.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks in a low
tone, fingers sliding easily into Regulus once more.
“I’m not finished with you. Not even close.”
“Oh, God. Oh—” Regulus sobs into his elbow, canting
his hips up to ease the friction on his overstimulated
cock. But the hand on his back forces him down
again. There’s a live wire under his skin; it jolts each
time James’ fingertips brush the bundle of nerves
inside him.
“I’ll win this too, love. I won’t stop until you tell me
to.”
Regulus doesn’t. He crests another wave, writhing,
and wonders when his body will give up. No one has
ever done this to him. He’s never even done it to
himself. He doesn’t know his own limit. How much
can he take? How much can he give? Not that there’s
anything left except tears on his cheeks and
desperate, needy whines in his throat.
“One more for me?” asks James, leaning over him
with a hand braced near his head. James’ words are
gentle, coaxing. His kisses on Regulus’ shoulders are
even gentler, and his tongue maps constellations out
of freckles.
“Yes,” Regulus concedes, biting into his forearm with
another choked sob. “Daddy, please.”
He wants to win. Oh, he does. He wants James to
complain his wrist has cramped or his fingers don’t
work or he’s no longer interested in this game, but
it’s Regulus who breaks first. Who begs James to
stop, to let him breathe. His throat is dry, his voice
hoarse. He’s been split open and turned inside out.
It’s a horrible emptiness when James’ fingers slip out
of him. The cleft of his ass and insides of his thighs
are a mess of James’ cum, of spit and lube. He
crawls away to turn on his back and close his legs,
chest heaving. His fingertips are numb, and his toes
tingle. “God,” he breathes, unsteady. “What are
you?”
James crawls over him, grinning from ear to ear. “A
winner.”
“Oh, fuck off.” But Regulus doesn’t have the strength
to fight. He laughs instead; it echoes off the high
ceilings, hysterical. “No one has ever got me off like
that. Fucking hell.”
He wipes at his eyes with the backs of his hands;
wetness clings to his lashes, clumps them together.
Some greedy, insatiable part of him wants more, but
the rest is so far past his limit his very bones are
exhausted.
James sucks his teeth, settling back against the
headboard. “Are you serious?” he asks. “No one’s
ever done that to you before?”
“Most guys get one orgasm and consider themselves
Olympic medalists.”
“Amateurs. One isn’t even enough to put you on the
podium. That’s foreplay. Two will get you bronze.
Three isn’t bad. That’s silver.”
Regulus drops his hands to glare at the man sat
against the headboard. He’s bent one leg so he can
rest his elbow on his knee, and he regards Regulus
with haughty amusement.
“And you?” Regulus asks. “What exactly do you think
you won?”
James winks, his grin stretched wide. “Baby, you
know I just won gold.”
“Ugh, your ego is fucking huge.”
James’ eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs.
It’s annoyingly endearing. “Admit it, and I’ll draw you
a bath. I’ll even put the little bubbles and smelling
salts in. Whatever you want.” He crawls over Regulus
again, ducking his head to graze his lips along
Regulus’ jaw. “Come on, Princess,” he whispers. “Let
me hear you say it.”
“You are so annoying,” Regulus hisses, pushing at
James’ chest. It earns him another cackle, more
tender kisses along his jaw. “Fine. Fine. You won
gold, you egotistical ass.”
“Wonderful. That was music to my ears.”
“Ugh, get off. You’re heavy.”
“Not really. You just have all the strength of a gnat
right now.” James laughs again when Regulus beats
fists against his chest. “Alright, alright. I’m going.
Breakfast requests?”
Regulus melts into the sheets; his limbs are no better
than cooked noodles. He watches James slide off the
bed, muscles shifting deliciously under his skin. It
almost—almost—makes Regulus call him back. But
then he grabs his robe off the floor, shrugs it on, and
glances over his shoulder with that cheeky, knowing
grin.
“Bastard,” Regulus mutters, turning to the ceiling.
“Requests?”
“Pancakes. With blueberries.”
“In the batter or on the side?”
“Both.”
James slips on his glasses, says, “You got it,” and
disappears into the bathroom whistling a cheery
tune.
After Regulus hears the tub start, then the shower,
he rolls over onto his stomach to grab his phone off
the nightstand. He scrolls through his notifications,
pausing only when he reaches the group chat with
his friends.
There are 639 unread messages.
He rolls onto his back again with a slight wince.
When he opens the chat, it’s to find absolute chaos—
and that Barty has once again changed the name,
much to everyone’s chagrin.
Mr. James F. Potter’s (VERY WILLING) Harem
Regulus
Why do I have 639 messages?
And what’s with the name?
Someone explain. I’m too tired to read all that.
Barty
HELLOOOO REGULUS
Why are you tired? Couldn’t sleep? ;)
Anyway I have an important question
How much to let me fuck James?
Lily
Ugh. Here we go again.
Regulus
???
Sorry? Are you well?
Barty
Or let him fuck me I’m really not partial
This is a genuine question btw
Regulus
????????
Lily
Evan please take his phone away.
AND BARTY QUIT CHANGING THE GC NAME!!!
Lily changed the chat name to ‘Lesbian Takeover’
Dorcas
#LilyForPrimeMinister
Pandora
Aw let Barty try! It’s cute!
Marlene
But why does it have to be OUR problem?
Regulus
??????????????????
Evan
<1 Video Attached>
Regulus opens the attachment with trepidation; it
could be any number of things, though he has a
sneaking suspicion he knows exactly what this will
be.
The quality is grainy at best, but Regulus would know
the shape of his father anywhere. And… James?
Which can only mean one thing: this is the video
from last night. There’s no sound, but it’s obvious
Orion and James are not exchanging pleasantries.
Not even close.
Orion puffs out his chest to make himself broader,
taller, but James has a few inches on him. He’s young
and agile. It makes a difference when seemingly out
of nowhere, Orion pulls his elbow back and swings.
It’s a well-aimed right hook, but James ducks it
easily, his motions smooth and fluid as he uses the
momentum to return Orion’s punch with a nasty
uppercut. It knocks Orion’s head back and sends him
sprawling.
“Holy shit,” Regulus whispers, unable to look away.
James follows Orion down to the floor in the middle
of the crowded ballroom. With one hand balled in the
front of his expensive suit, James throws punch after
punch. Orion tries to throw him off, but James puts
all of his weight on Orion’s chest.
Regulus’ father doesn’t stand a chance.
It takes two security guards to haul James off and
one more to keep Orion from following after him.
They’re practically spitting at one another. Then
Orion really does spit blood on the floor before he’s
hauled away. The video ends with James shrugging
the guards off. He fixes his jacket, smooths out the
front, and lets himself be led through the front doors.
Regulus watches the video again. And again. And
again. What did James say to make his father put his
whole back into that right hook? Regulus has been
victim to it many times; it would’ve blackened James’
eye for days had it landed. Might’ve even cracked
bone if the angle was right.
His phone buzzes with more incoming messages.
Evan
Barty wants to marry him.
Just a heads up.
Barty
No I want REG to marry him
I just want him on the weekends
Come on you know you do too!
Evan
…
No comment.
Regulus
Is this what you spent 600+ messages going on
about?
Dorcas
Welcome to our hell
We’ve missed you Reggie <3
How’s Milan? Everything OK with your parents?
Regulus
Yeah I’m fine. A little spooked.
But James and I talked about it. We’re good.
Lily
That’s good! Do you have plans for today?
He’d better treat you to something nice after last
night
Pandora
Louis V is nice :)
Marlene
His bank account can do better than ‘nice.’
Aim higher Reggie. Make him work for it.
Regulus
Prada? Gucci? Versace?
Barty
QUIT DISTRACTING THEM I NEED ANSWERS
Okay be honest on a scale of 1-10…
I need to know.
Lily
You literally do not need to know.
NONE of us need to know.
Marlene
We’ll leave the chat.
Barty
Reg I’m your best friend
Isn’t there a rule about this?
Don’t girls always share sex details?
Evan
Just tell him Reg
He won’t stop until you do
And I want to enjoy my Saturday in peace
Regulus
Fine. But DO NOT tell James I said this.
His ego is big enough.
Ok… if sex was an Olympic sport?
Gold. In ALL events.
Barty
