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Remus thought he’d locked the door, truly.
He’s sprawled out on his bed, the dim lighting of Grimmauld Place washing over him. He’s half-naked, nothing covering him from the waist down. He bites back a low groan as he fists his cock, wrist working in desperate, tugging motions. His knot is swelling—painfully so. He's close. Too close. He tightens his grip, hips arching up off the sheets.
That’s when the door creaks.
“What the fuck is that?”
Remus jerks upright in a blind panic, his hand slips off his cock mid-stroke, a sharp, involuntary twitch ripping through him. He scrambles for the sheet, fingers clumsy as he drags it over his lap in desperation. It does little to hide the flushed heat of him, or the way he’s still pulsing beneath the thin fabric.
When he finally dares to look up, his breath catches.
Regulus Black is leaning against the doorframe—arms crossed, expression unreadable, but his eyes are fixed on Remus with unmistakable interest. Entirely unbothered by the intimacy he’s just walked in on.
Remus chokes out a sound. “Regulus. Get out. Fuck, you shouldn’t be here.”
Regulus tilts his head to the side, brows knitting together in something that almost resembles confusion—though there's nothing innocent about the way his gaze lingers. Remus’ plea hangs in the air unanswered. Regulus doesn’t move to leave. If anything, Remus thinks he’s taken a step closer.
His eyes darken, the cool grey of them swallowed by something deeper. Hunger blooms there, stark and unashamed, settling like smoke in his irises.
“That’s real?” Regulus says quietly, like he can’t believe it. “That… thing at the base. Is that—is that a knot?”
This time, Remus is certain Regulus steps closer—because one step becomes two, then three, then four, until he's standing right at the edge of the bed. A plump, pink lower lip is caught between his teeth, the gesture sweet in a way that feels deliberately misleading. The innocence on his face is a lie, so carefully constructed it almost passes as real.
He lifts one bare knee and presses it to the mattress, leaning in—too close, far too close. Remus can feel the heat rolling off him in waves, the air between them tightening like a binding charm.
Remus yanks the sheets higher, stuffing the edge around his waist with frantic hands, as if fabric alone can salvage his dignity. He’s covered now—technically. The thin cotton clings to his lower half, and a wrinkled white singlet stretches across his chest. Yet, he’s never felt more exposed.
Not with Regulus looking at him like that.
Remus exhales sharply, eyes looking anywhere but at Regulus. “It’s a werewolf thing,” he says, embarrassed. “You shouldn’t have seen it. Just get out.”
“It goes in, doesn’t it?” Regulus asks. “It’s not just for show, right?”
He presses a second knee onto the mattress, inching forward until he's kneeling so close that Remus can feel the ghost of his skin through the thin sheet.
He's fucking gorgeous—unfairly so. No one has any business being that pretty. And, for all his I-am-a-Black-and-you-are-beneath-me theatrics, Remus thinks Regulus truly is rather sweet.
The bare, pale skin of his legs gleams under the low golden light, smooth and hairless, like he was carved to be touched. A soft dusting of freckles splashes across his nose and cheeks, giving him a false innocence that makes Remus want to ruin him.
Real or not, it works.
His traitorous cock twitches beneath the sheet.
“Regulus,” Remus pleads, almost begging now. His voice shakes, sounding pained. “Get out, please.”
Regulus frowns, barely a crease between his brows, but it’s there. Without a word, he shifts closer again.
This time, he plants both palms against the mattress and leans in deliberately, crawling further into Remus’ personal space. One leg lifts and drapes over Remus’ shin, the cool skin of his calf pressing against Remus’ heated skin through the barrier of the sheet.
“No,” He mutters petulantly. “I want it in me.”
Remus blinks, stunned into silence. His mouth parts wordlessly, eyes wide with disbelief. Surely, he’s misheard. There is no fucking way that Regulus Black, Sirius’ little brother—his boyfriend’s little brother—has just asked, no, demanded, to be fucked.
His brain immediately goes to yes.
His mouth is smarter.
“No, Regulus. For fucks sake. I’m literally dating your brother. This is his room too.” He groans, a ragged breath falling from his lips.
Regulus looks genuinely disappointed, like he's been denied something he was entitled to. A soft pout forms on his lips, his brows dipping ever so slightly. Unbelievably, he lets out a quiet, breathy whine, huffing under his breath like Remus is being entirely unreasonable.
“Fine!” He huffs, shoving off the mattress in a single motion.
He turns on his heel and walks out without another word.
And just like that, he’s gone—leaving Remus breathless, flushed, cock aching beneath the damp, ruined sheet, and absolutely, utterly, fucked.
-----
Regulus has always been a bit of a brat.
Despite what he lets everyone believe, he’s far from innocent. It’s not entirely his fault—Barty and Evan got to him early, corrupting him within weeks of arriving at Hogwarts. He quickly learned to tilt his head just right, lower his lashes at the perfect moment, and furrow his brows in mock confusion.
Yet, nothing works quite as well as a soft voice and pouty lips when you're trying to get what you want.
And Regulus always gets what he wants.
“Siri, finally, you’re home!”
Sirius looks up, a Muggle motorbike helmet tucked under one arm, curls wind-tossed and dishevelled. His tattoos peak out from beneath his frayed singlet, ink scattered across the sharp planes of his chest. Right over his heart sits the Regulus constellation—etched in fine, delicate lines. The brightest star, nestled right there, in the heart of the lion.
Regulus follows behind Sirius like a little puppy, trailing him from room to room in silent, wide-eyed devotion.
Sirius moves on instinct, shedding his day in pieces—kicking off his boots at the door, tossing his helmet onto the couch, dumping his keys in the kitchen. He drifts lazily into his and Remus’ room and yanks off his belt in one motion before flopping onto the bed with a groan.
Regulus stays close the entire time, saying nothing, eyes soft and doe-like, watching his brother move.
“Yes, Regulus?” Sirius finally asks, voice laced with amusement, eyes glinting as they flick toward where his brother hovers in the archway.
Regulus takes it as an invitation. He bites his lower lip—innocent-like and calculated—and bounces toward the bed. He climbs onto the mattress, crawling to Sirius’ side before keeling beside him.
He presses a single finger to Sirius’ chest, poking him in mock admonishment.
“Why didn’t you tell me,” he declares, huffing like he’s been wronged.
Sirius raises a brow, lazily smacking the accusing finger away. The corner of his mouth twitches with amusement. His hand drops to Regulus’ bare knee. He doesn’t move it. Instead, he lets it rest there.
“What didn’t I tell you, little star?” He teases.
Regulus crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed as he shoots his brother a pointed look. “That your boyfriend has a knot, Sirius. A literal knot!”
A beat of silence stretches between them.
Regulus doesn’t look away. He watches as Sirius tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. Slowly, a knowing smirk pulls at his lips, before melting into a low, amused laugh.
The hand on Regulus’ knee becomes two. Gradually, both of Sirius’ hands slide up from his knees to his thighs. His grip tightens, drawing Regulus forward until their bodies meet, his knees now pressed firmly against Sirius’ torso.
Regulus lets out a high-pitched, pathetic little noise, his brows knitting together in a frustrated frown.
“Sirius! Stop laughing,” he wails. “I saw it.”
He crosses his arms, voice dropping to a sulky grumble.
“I accidently walked in on him wanking. I thought maybe it was enchanted or something, but no—it was just there. All thick and swollen and... twitching.”
When Sirius doesn’t answer, just offers a stupid smirk and lets his thumb trace slow, teasing circles on Regulus’ exposed thigh, Regulus rolls his eyes.
“So?” he presses. “Does it…” His voice lifts slightly, slipping into that faux-innocent tone. “Does it go in you?”
Sirius huffs a quiet laugh as his hands move to Regulus’ waist. With barely any effort, he lifts him, dragging him forward as if he weighs nothing. Regulus lets out a soft, startled gasp as he’s hauled onto Sirius’ lap, knees sliding to either side until he’s straddling him.
Sirius settles him far too casually, his muscles flexing beneath the worn fabric of his singlet. Regulus blinks down at him, suddenly very aware of how small he feels in his brother’s hands.
“Of course it does, Reggie,” Sirius purrs, dragging his fingers idly across Regulus’ thigh, tracing slow star shapes into his skin.
Regulus bites back a grin, the corners of his mouth twitching. His little act is landing exactly how he wants it to.
“But it’s so—” he swallows, letting his eyes drop. “It looks so big, Siri. Does it hurt?”
Sirius lets out a low, thoughtful hum, playing right into Regulus’ game.
“A little, at first,” he admits. “But then it just… grows. Stretches you open until you’re so stuffed full, that sweet little spot inside is constantly stimulated.” He shrugs casually. “It’s hot. Being locked together like that. You can’t pull out till it goes down.”
“Fuck,” Regulus whispers, breath catching as his hips instinctively grind down.
Sirius’ hands tighten around his waist, halting the movement as his eyes narrow. “What are you playing at, little star?”
Regulus’ lips part, his expression distant and almost bored.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes one of Sirius’ larger hands and begins toying with his chunky rings, twisting them slowly around his knuckles, tugging them up and down in idle movements.
“I wanna know more,” Regulus says softly, still tracing lazy circles around Sirius’ rings. “What’s it like when it… when it gets locked in?”
“When he knots you?” Sirius smirks, voice low and taunting.
Regulus nods eagerly, lips parted, eyes wide with feigned innocence that doesn't quite hide the desire beneath.
“It’s hot,” Sirius says casually, like he’s talking about the weather. “Remus loses control every time. Werewolf instincts or something—he gets a bit… animalistic.”
He trails off, gaze flicking distant like he’s recalling a vivid memory.
“Also…” His mouth curls into a wider smirk. “Remus afterward is hot. Once he’s cums and his knot’s locked inside me, he gets so fucking apologetic. All breathless and flustered, trying to say sorry for being stuck together. It’s pathetic…in a really, really fucking attractive way.”
Sirius leans forward, whispering now in an almost conspiratorial tone.
“But you wanna know the best part, little star?” His breath brushes Regulus’ ear. “When he’s locked in, you can feel him throbbing the whole time. He throbs so much it’s like he’s vibrating inside you. It makes you cum again and again, like you’ve got no control at all.”
As he speaks, Sirius rolls his hips up just slightly. The pressure grinds right against Regulus’ core, dragging a soft, involuntary gasp from his lips.
Sirius grins, hands tightening at his waist. “You’ll feel it right there.”
He watches Regulus’ reaction carefully, the teasing edge of his smirk sharpening into something darker. His fingers flex on Regulus’ hips, thumbs digging in just slightly, as if anchoring him in place.
“You’re awfully curious for someone who swears he walked in by accident.” Sirius purrs.
Regulus blinks at him, mouth parted, head tilting to the left as if pretending not to understand.
But Sirius sees right through him.
His eyes narrow slightly. “Tell me the truth, little star,” he says, voice gravel rough. “Are you trying to be a little fucking whore and fuck my boyfriend?”
Regulus doesn’t flinch.
His lashes flutter once, then twice, before he looks up at Sirius—wide-eyed innocence stretched thin over something calculating. A mask of manipulation, worn like a second skin.
“Maybe,” he admits, barely above a whisper.
He shifts in Sirius’ lap, deliberately dragging his hips forward just enough to press his weight more firmly down, subtlety grinding. His fingers are still toying with Sirius’ rings, twisting one around and around his knuckle absentmindedly.
“And if I was…” Regulus tilts his head, lips curving into the barest ghost of a smile. “Would you try and stop me?”
He leans in close, voice sugar sweet.
“Or would you spread my legs for him yourself?”
-----
Remus returns later that evening, irritation simmering beneath his skin after another long delay at the Ministry. It’s always frustrating—especially when he has a pretty boyfriend waiting for him at home. The moment he steps through the door, he’s immediately hit by the unmistakable scent of arousal.
He groans. No normal human would be able to smell it, especially not from the living room, but his werewolf senses are overwhelmed. The air is thick with desperation, musky and heavy, clinging to every surface. It’s unmistakably Sirius, that familiar, reckless hunger. But threaded through it is something sweeter.
His feet move on their own volition, drawn by instinct more than intention. Each step pulls him closer, guiding him up the stairs like a predator trailing the scent of something ripe and wanting.
He opens the door to his bedroom and freezes.
His mouth falls open as he takes in the sight before him.
Regulus is sprawled across the sheets, completely bare. The warm, golden light catches on the sharp lines of his collarbones, casting them in soft shadow. His back sinks into the expensive linen, knees drawn up to his chest—exposing the slick, glistening pink of his cunt. The source of that maddening, syrup-sweet scent clinging to the air.
He looks like a fucking offering.
And then there’s Sirius—his boyfriend—kneeling beside his brother like sin incarnate. He’s in tight black jeans and a white button-up shirt that’s more undone than not, hanging loose around his chest. The sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, revealing the lean stretch of his forearms. His tattoos shimmer faintly against pale skin, dark ink catching the low light.
But it’s his fingers that catch Remus’ attention. They toy with Regulus’ wrists, guiding them above his head and binding them to the headboard with delicate black ribbons. The satin catches the light, soft and pretty, just like Regulus.
“Oh good, you’re back, Remus.”
Sirius smiles without looking away from his work, his fingers brushing one final, lingering stroke over the ribbon at Regulus’ wrist. His eyes flutter up, all wide-eyed innocence—an expression Regulus wears often.
“Look what I bought you, Moony. Look how pretty he is.”
He gestures casually to his brother, as if Regulus is a present, not something bound and trembling with flushed cheeks and thighs slick with want. Regulus blinks up at Remus, chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. His lips part slightly, wet and swollen from where he’s clearly been biting them.
“He told me about how he saw your knot,” Sirius murmurs, almost conversational, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.
His hand glides down the soft, trembling inside of Regulus’ thigh, spreading him open wider—showing off more of the flushed pinkness between his legs.
“Poor little thing,” he croons, thumb grazing dangerously close, but never quite touching. “He came to me begging, Remus.”
Sirius glances up, eyes darkened with lust. “Said he couldn’t stop thinking about it. About how swollen you were. About how desperate he is to be knotted.”
He presses a lingering kiss to the jut of Regulus’ naked hip, right where his only tattoo sits—one large star inked in deep, midnight black, with a smaller one twinkling just beside it. A quiet constellation etched into pale skin, soft and intimate, like a secret not meant to be seen.
“You can’t leave him needy, Moony. Not when he begged so pretty.”
Something inside Remus breaks.
He steps forward and shuts the door with a soft click, a sound that lands with quiet finality. Before he even registers the decision, he's already moving—crossing the room in long, purposeful strides. His hand fists the collar of Sirius’ shirt, dragging him upward and forcing him to his knees on the bed until their eyes meet.
“What are you playing at, Sirius?” He growls, letting his gaze rake over Regulus’ bound form. “Tying up your little brother, spreading him wide open like a little toy for me to play with. Do you know what you’re asking?”
Sirius’ warm breath ghosts over his skin, followed by the sharp graze of teeth nipping playfully at the curve of his neck.
“Made him all pretty for you,” Sirius whispers. “Tied him up nice. Spread him open, all exposed, just how you like.”
Remus groans, his hands fist in the fabric of Sirius’ shirt, dragging him closer until their chests are flush.
For a fleeting moment, Remus is struck by just how much Regulus looks like Sirius. He’d noticed the surface similarities before: dark hair, pale skin like polished bone, eyes the colour of storm clouds. Easy things to dismiss. But now it’s the finer details that catch him off guard—the same pretty whimpers, the same crinkle on his forehead when he’s aroused, the way they both pout their lips in mirror image of one another.
Suddenly, Remus finds himself looking twice.
“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes locked on Regulus. “He is pretty.”
Sirius grins against his neck, satisfaction washing over him.
Regulus wails softly from the bed, hips twitching helplessly in the air. He’s flushed all over—face, chest, thighs—his cunt clenching visibly around nothing, desperate and empty. Just begging to be filled.
Sirius pulls away from Remus’ touch, fingers falling onto Regulus’ thigh, spreading him even wider toward Remus. His fingers pause, massaging into that stupid fucking star tattoo on his hip—one Remus knows all too well. He knows exactly what it represents, and it certainly has no right to be so fucking attractive.
For the first time, Regulus blinks up at Remus, his voice carrying a cadence of innocence as he begs, “Please, Remus. Want your knot. Please. Siri told me all about it. Need it in me.”
Remus groans, the sound punched from his chest like it physically hurts to hold back.
“Merlin,” he rasps, raking a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving Regulus. “I’ll break you, baby.”
He turns to Sirius, eyes sweeping over his boyfriend with something close to admonishment.
“He’s tiny, Sirius. What the fuck were you thinking?”
Sirius just grins lazily from where he’s perched at Regulus’ side, entirely unrepentant. “But he practically begged, Moony.”
Remus growls under his breath. His hands are already moving, dragging the hem of his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. He climbs onto the bed in one fluid motion, heat pouring off him in waves.
Regulus whines on the sheets, knees pressing together, rubbing back and forth like he’s trying to ease an ache that won’t go away.
“Siriii,” he whimpers, dragging out the word like a plea. “Make him fuck me, please.”
Remus lets out a low, strangled sound—somewhere between a growl and a groan. His fists clench at his sides, the muscles in his jaw working as he glares at Sirius, as if saying: this is your fucking fault.
“Moony?” Sirius prompts, smiling innocently, waiting expectantly.
Remus looks down at Regulus again—knees still rubbing together, pink and wrecked with need, hands bound and hips rocking helplessly into the air, chasing friction that never comes. Remus reaches up and his fingers brush over the ribbon binding Regulus’ wrist to the headboard. They trail along the satin with a touch far gentler than the situation deserves.
He exhales shakily, then, without a word, he adds another loop, tightening the knot. Regulus gasps, the subtle tug pulling a soft, high complaint from his throat.
“Please, Remus,” Regulus begs again.
Remus’ resolve crumbles.
He turns to Sirius, voice rougher and deeper than usual. “Get off the bed.”
Sirius blinks. “What?”
Remus doesn’t repeat himself. “Chair. Sit. Watch. Now.”
Sirius’ grin returns almost immediately, wide and wicked, a devious giggle slipping from his lips. “Yes, sir.”
Sirius scrambles off the bed with a breathless laugh, nearly tripping over himself in his rush to obey. His jeans catch on his thighs as he moves, and he curses under his breath, kicking them, and his boxers, off clumsily mid-stride.
He makes it to the armchair in the corner of the room, cock already half-hard where it rests against his stomach. Just above it, inked low across the sharp cut of his pelvis, right above his pubic bone, are the words in deep black tattoo ink: Toujours pur.
Stamped like a brand on a body that’s anything but pure.
Regulus’ eyes stray immediately, gaze trailing down his brother’s toned body with a kind of dazed reverence. His thighs twitch where they’re pushed together, a soft whimper slipping from his lips as he bites down on a smile that’s far too pleased.
Remus steps back from the bed, lips twitching into something dark and amused as he begins to unbutton his jeans.
“Look at you,” he mutters, voice low and edged with mockery. “Staring at your brother like he’s the one about to fuck you.”
He drags the denim down his thighs, boxers following in the same motion. His cock springs free—thick, long and flushed, the base already beginning to swell with the girth of his knot.
He kicks the clothes aside and steps back toward the bed, gaze locked on Regulus.
“He’s not going to fuck you,” Remus says, his voice dropping to a near growl. “I am, little star. But only if you beg.”
Regulus lets out a soft, broken sound, his bound wrists tugging against the ribbons as he shifts beneath Remus’ gaze. His thighs twitch, pressed tightly together, still desperately trying to soothe the ache building between them.
“Please,” he breathes.
Remus raises a brow, entirely unimpressed.
“That’s not begging,” he tuts. “That’s just whining.”
He leans forward, one knee sinking into the mattress between Regulus’ thighs. His cock hangs heavy between his legs—thick, and flushed deep with blood. So long that it drags along the sheets as he moves, the swollen weight of it pulling it down.
“You want my knot?” Remus asks, tilting his head. “Then ask for it properly, like a good boy. Tell me what you want. Tell me why I should give it to you.”
From the corner, Sirius shifts in the chair with a quiet, eager noise.
“Can you spread your legs, Reggie?” Sirius coos. “Show Moony your little hole. Show him how wet you are for him.”
He leans forward, eyes gleaming. “Come on, little star, let’s see where he’s going to put that big fucking cock.”
Regulus moans, the sound breathy and wrecked as he shifts under Remus’ weight. With trembling effort, he spreads his legs wider, letting his knees fall back toward his chest, exposing every slick, glistening inch of himself. His cunt is flushed and dripping, the wetness pooling in the low light.
“I need you,” Regulus grumbles in a sulky tone. “It’s not fair that Sirius gets it all to himself.”
His head tips back against the pillows, lips parted in a soft pout as he huffs, breath shaky and petulant. His knees stay drawn up to his chest, cunt glistening and exposed, like he’s offering himself up in protest—needy, spoiled, and clearly desperate to be fucked.
Remus groans, grip tightening as his hands clutch at Regulus’ thighs, spreading him even wider. Without warning, one of those large hands lifts and comes down in a punishing slap against his cunt.
Slap!
Regulus cries out, a high, startled yelp tearing from his throat. But his body betrays him. He rocks into the sting with a desperate moan, back arching, hole clenching around nothing, dripping even more.
Remus glances over his shoulder at Sirius, voice gravel rough. “Your little brother’s a fucking brat, Sirius.”
Sirius lets out a soft, delighted hum from the chair, one hand lazily stroking over his cock as he watches.
“I thought it was obvious,” he says. “You should see him when he doesn’t get what he wants. Pouts for hours. Throws little tantrums.” He chuckles softly. “He’s always been greedy.”
“Poor little thing,” Remus murmurs, fingers pushing in and out of Regulus’ dripping hole aimlessly. “You just want to be fucked like your big brother, isn’t that right? Stuffed full ‘til you cry.”
His cock drags against the sheets every time he shifts forward, heavy and leaking, knot continuing to swell at the base.
From the chair, Sirius’ voice cuts in again. “Come on, Reggie. Beg all pretty for Remus. One more time.”
Regulus’ gaze finds his brothers like planets drawn into orbit. Grey meets grey, and their eyes glitter with the same starlight. Almost as if they were born under the same constellation, destined to wholly align only in moments like this. Not just siblings, but twin celestial bodies caught in gravity’s pull, sharing a destiny.
Regulus nods, breath hitching, lips parting around a shaky, obedient breath.
“Please, Remus,” he whines. “Want your cock. Want you to stretch me open and knot me like you do to Siri.” He shifts his hips with a needy little roll, cheeks flushing a pretty red colour. “It’s only fair. He gets it all the time. I wanna be bred too.”
“Bred?” Remus echoes, barely audible, like the word alone has short-circuited something in his brain.
“You want to be bred?” he growls, rutting against him shamelessly now. “You want me to pump you with pups? You think I won’t fill you until you’re leaking for days, sweetheart?”
Before Regulus can even answer, Sirius clicks his tongue from the chair, slow and disapproving. “That’s not what I said, little star,” he chides. “I told you to beg pretty—not bratty. Demanding to be bred sounds pretty bratty to me.”
Regulus turns his head, pouting. “I am begging pretty.”
Remus huffs a soft laugh, eyes still fixed on Regulus’ soaked cunt as his fingers work in and out, purposefully avoiding his clit. He watches the way slick gushes down Regulus’ thighs with every thrust—his body already trying to make itself ready to be bred.
“Hmm.” Remus hums. “I think this is his version of pretty, Sirius,” he says. “Spoiled little thing doesn’t even realise he’s presenting like a bitch in heat.”
His fingers pull from Regulus’ hole, glistening with slick, and without warning, come down in another sharp slap against his soaked pussy.
Slap!
The sound cracks through the room, and Regulus’ thighs snap shut instinctively in a helpless motion. He cries out, hands tugging against the satin ribbons binding his wrists.
Remus’ voice darkens, thick with want. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You beg to be bred, then clamp your legs shut like that sloppy cunt isn’t aching for it?”
“Open them, little star,” Sirius orders.
Regulus obeys instantly—his legs fly open, perhaps even wider than before, trembling slightly as he spreads himself.
Remus groans, low and guttural, as he drags his fingers through the slick again, letting it coat his knuckles. “Fuck, just look at you. Already leaking and I haven’t even knotted you yet. Gonna take it my cock so easy, aren’t you? Gonna let me fuck that bratty attitude right out and fill you with pups instead.”
Remus blames the wolf for what happens next. Afterall, the wolf doesn’t ask, it takes.
One strong arm wraps under Regulus’ thigh, hoisting it up and over his shoulder, opening him further. The other pins his hips to the bed. Then he’s there—mouth dragging over the soft, flushed skin of Regulus’ inner thigh. He nuzzles once, inhales deeply, and groans as the sweet scent fills his nostrils.
Remus presses in closer, driven by pure, feral instinct. His tongue moves with animalistic intent, lapping at Regulus’ cunt with single-minded hunger. He pushes in deep, tongue fucking him slowly—not even to pleasure, but to taste. To claim and to devour every drop of wetness.
When that isn’t enough, his focus shifts.
His mouth moves up, lips dragging over the swollen flesh until his tongue finds Regulus’ clit. He flicks it in tight, merciless circles, relentless and unrepentant.
“He’s spoiling you, Reggie,” Sirius moans from the chair, fist working leisurely over his cock.
Regulus whimpers, hips jerking in tiny, desperate motions as he tries to grind against Remus’ mouth, wrists straining against the black silk ribbons. His whole body trembles with need, yet, his eyes never leave Sirius.
“Uh-uh,” Sirius tuts, tone firm. “Keep still, little star. Let him work. You don’t want to make him stop, do you? You don’t want to ruin all that hard work he’s doing getting you ready to be bred, hm?”
Remus growls low in his throat, a sound full of want that vibrates against Regulus’ cunt. His grip tightens as he grabs Regulus’ other thigh and lifts it, folding both legs over his shoulders until Regulus is completely open to him.
The position leaves him trembling, pinned beneath Remus’ weight, utterly exposed. Remus presses in closer, mouth working relentlessly, tongue devouring him with tenacious hunger. Like he’s trying to taste the want, to pull every drop of slick from him until Regulus is dripping and pliant, too wet and desperate to be anything but bred and pumped with pups.
“Fuck, Reggie,” Sirius murmurs. “You look so pretty like that. All folded up. Like you’re just begging him to knot you.”
A trail of desperate tears wells in his eyes, spilling over and sliding down his flushed cheeks. Each one falls silently, catching in the curve of his jaw as his body trembles.
Sirius groans as he rises from the chair, cock still in hand, eyes dark with something between pride and hunger. He steps to the edge of the bed and leans down, brushing his thumb gently beneath Regulus’ eye. He wipes away the tears already shed and catches the fresh ones that dare to fall.
“Shh,” he murmurs tenderly. “You’re doing so good, little star.”
Regulus sniffles, lip wobbling as he blinks up at his brother through wet lashes. His voice comes out soft and cracked, barely more than a breath.
“When’s he gonna fuck me, Siri?” His cunt pulses on Remus’ tongue, a fresh wave of slick dripping out of him. “I—I’ve been good,” he whines, hips giving a weak roll. “I need it. I need to be knotted. You promised.”
Slowly, Remus pulls back, chest heaving, lips slick with Regulus’ desire. He sits back on his knees, catching his breath—eyes blown wide, wild and hungry as they flick between the brothers.
His gaze lingers on Sirius.
Without a word, his hand reaches out and wraps around Sirius’ cock. He tugs once, then twice, then again and again. He strokes him lazily as he speaks, like it's an afterthought, like Sirius is just something to toy with while he thinks.
“You’re both such fucking sluts,” he murmurs. He licks his lips, gaze dragging slowly back to Regulus. “One whining to be filled like a bitch in heat, the other getting off on the thought of his brother bred full and dripping with his boyfriend's cum. Filthy little family, aren’t you?”
“No,” Sirius whines, hips bucking up into Remus’ hand, desperate for more friction, more attention, more anything.
At the same time, a broken, breathless “Yes,” spills from Regulus’ lips. His eyes are glassy, hips jerking forward in search of Remus’ cock, desperate not to be forgotten. “Please,” he gasps.
Remus hums, amusement curling in his throat. His hand gives Sirius’ cock one final teasing squeeze before releasing him, slick fingers trailing up to curl around the back of his neck. He tugs him forward until Sirius is breathing against his mouth. And then Remus kisses him, slow and unhurried, his tongue slipping between Sirius’ lips with lazy dominance.
The taste hits Sirius immediately: Regulus.
Regulus’ arousal still coats Remus’ tongue, and Sirius groans as the taste is shared with him between the kiss. Remus licks his lips as they part. Slowly, he leans in to press one final gentle kiss to Sirius’ mouth, a flicker of fondness softening his gaze.
“Back to the chair, puppy,” he orders. “It’s Regulus’ turn tonight, not yours.”
Sirius lets out a soft, needy sound, but doesn’t argue. He obeys, stumbling back toward the chair with a reluctant sway, dropping into it with a huff of frustration. His eyes never leave Regulus, as if watching is the only thing keeping him tethered.
Remus turns back to Regulus, eyes raking shamelessly down his body as he drinks him in. He steps in close, the swollen, bulbous head of his cock nudging against Regulus’ soaked, fluttering entrance. Almost immediately, his hole starts to mould itself to the shape of Remus’ cock—sucking him in like a Knockturn Alley whore desperate to be filled.
“Fuck,” Remus breathes, watching the way Regulus’ cunt grips and pulls. “You moaned so pretty for this.”
His voice drops lower as he presses in further, hand sliding up to hook behind Regulus’ knee and pin it high against his chest, forcing him wide open—completely accessible and breedable.
“Cried for it. Begged like a fucking slut, didn’t you, sweetie?” he growls. “All that whining about needing my knot. Needing me to fill you up and fuck pups into you.”
Remus pushes forward more deliberatly, but the first thrust misses.
His thick, leaking cock slides up between Regulus’ trembling thighs, smearing slick messily along his pubic bone. It drags over his hole but doesn’t breach it—just teases, almost cruelly. Remus adjusts his grip and presses in; the red, bulbous head catches for a heartbeat before forcing its way past the tight ring of muscle, stretching him open around the impossible girth.
Inch by inch, Remus feeds it into him, and Regulus’ cunt swallows him down with greedy, wanton need. Regulus chokes on a sob, fingers scrabbling at the ribbon, hips trembling from the strain of being split so wide, so slowly.
“You feel that?” Remus growls. “That stretch? That’s what you wanted, yeah? To be split open on my cock. Knot-fucked just like your big brother.”
Suddenly, he thrusts deep, brutal and final, burying himself to the hilt—his hips flush, cock completely enveloped by Regulus’ cunt.
Remus leans in, voice dropping to a whisper as his lips brush Regulus’ ear. “And when I swell... when my knot locks you full and I spill inside you, stuff you so deep it leaks out around the edges, you’re going to thank me for it, aren’t you, little star?”
“But first,” Remus continues. “Thank your brother, sweetie. Thank him for sharing his boyfriend with you.”
Regulus groans, eyes flicking to Sirius where he watches. His lips wobble around the words as they spill out.
“Thank you, Siri,” he hiccups. “Th-thank you for—for—”
Remus pulls back slowly, then presses in again, his cock dragging along Regulus’ sensitive, overstretched walls. Regulus chokes on another moan, back arching against the sheets.
“For what, sweetie?” Remus prompts. His hips pull back then push in more aggressively this time.
Regulus sobs, a fresh tear spilling down his cheek. “For letting your boyfriend f-fuck me.”
From the chair, Sirius groans, breath catching as his eyes lock on the tight swell in Regulus’ stomach.
“Holy fuck,” Sirius mutters, hand stroking the length of his cock faster. “Look at that, Reggie. You see it? That little bump right there?”
He leans forward slightly, voice dropping into a filthy drawl.
"That’s Remus’ cock, baby. Stretching you so deep he’s pressing right up against your stomach. Fuck. He’s really all the way in, isn’t he? Already bred so full you’re bulging.”
Regulus lets out a wrecked sob, eyes fluttering as he stares down at his stomach through a haze of tears. With every rough pull and thrust of Remus’ cock, a thick, obscene outline presses up against the flat plane of his belly—rising, retreating, then pressing deeper again. It shifts with every movement, proof of just how far inside he is, how utterly stuffed he’s been.
“You’re so small, little star,” Sirius comments. “And he’s so fucking big. Look at that—can’t even hide it. Stuffed so full like a little breeding cow.”
“Please,” he breathes, all other words in his vernacular forgotten.
Remus groans the moment he sees it. His eyes lock on the obscene swell in Regulus’ belly, shifting slightly each time his cock pushes in deeper. A possesive growl vibrates from his chest, full of selfish hunger. He lifts one hand from Regulus’ thigh and rests it over the bump, his large palm pressing down against the swell.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he drones. “You feel that?”
His hand presses down more firmly. “That’s me,” he says. “Stuffing you full of my cock, aren’t I?”
Regulus lets out another loud whine, nodding deliriously as his whole body twitches.
“And I haven’t even knotted you yet.” Remus adds, almost absentmindedly.
“I need it,” he gasps. “Siri… make him knot me. Please. Tell him to—fuck, just tell him to do it.”
His hips roll weakly, trying to push himself deeper onto Remus’ cock, chasing the swell like it’s salvation. From the armchair, Sirius groans, a hand now working desperately over his cock as he watches Regulus writhe.
“You hear that, Moony?” he murmurs. “He’s begging for it. Practically sobbing.”
Remus exhales through his nose, gaze flicking down to where Regulus is whining and writhing beneath him, mouth spilling demands and expectations.
“Hmm,” Remus purrs. “All I hear is him being a brat again.”
His eyes drag over to Sirius, taking him in. Sirius’ hips are snapping into his own fist with pathetic urgency, cock flushed an angry red—like he’s holding himself back from cumming already.
Remus pushes Regulus’ thighs harder into his chest. His hips snap forward—once, twice, then again and again, each thrust rougher than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. Every time he slams in, desperate little “oh—oh—ohs” spill from Regulus’ lips, like the sound is being punched out of him.
Remus doesn’t stop.
“Take it like a good boy, Reggie.” Sirius scolds, hand wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, staving off his impending orgasm.
“I-I am being good, Siri!” Regulus yelps between thrusts, body bouncing against the mattress.
An affectionate look settles across Sirius’ face, something warm and unguarded that softens the edges of his usual smirk. He tips his head back with a low groan, caught in the sight before him.
Regulus is shining. His body is flushed, fucked open, and trembling with desperation. He burns beneath Remus’ hands like something celestial—too radiant to touch. He looks like a star that was never meant to be touched, only watched as it blazed across the sky… until one day, it fell. And somehow, it landed in his path anyway.
Sirius watches him the way he always has, with quiet reverence and constellations etched behind his eyes.
“Yeah, you are, little star,” Sirius mumbles, almost to himself. “You’re being so fucking good for us. Right, Remus?”
Remus grunts, sweat slicking his brow as he thrusts in again. His voice comes low and certain, roughened with hunger.
“Is this what you wanted this entire time, Sirius. Did you want to see your boyfriend's cock deep in your little brother, Pads?”
“Yes.” Sirius admits with a loud moan. “Fuck. He’s perfect, isn’t he?” He continues. “Taking you so fucking well, too.”
Remus can feel the tightness settling in his core, an animalistic desire to fuck faster and harder washing over him. He tries to thrust in again, but something shifts. His body pauses mid-motion, breath catching in his throat. His brows pull together as he draws back slowly.
The resistance is immediate. The tight squeeze around him confirms it. His knot is beginning to swell, indecently so, thickening with each passing second, stretching Regulus open in a way that makes his body jolt beneath him.
“Shit,” he breathes, hips rocking forward once more.
Every thrust drags with resistance, Remus’ cock tugging mercilessly at Regulus’ hole, the swollen base catching on every pull like it’s trying to tear free, only to be forced back in—deeper and wetter each time. The obscene squelch of slick filling the room.
“You feel that?” Remus moans. “That stretch? That catch? That’s my knot, baby. Your body’s trying to hold me in—trying to trap me so I can breed you.”
Regulus whines high in his throat, head lolling to the side against his bound arms. He tugs at the ribbon again, wrists twisting in their restraints, but the satin holds firm.
"You’re too big," Regulus sobs, voice breaking around the words. "It’s not—it’s not gonna fit, fuck, I can’t—Remus, it’s too much, you’re too fucking big." The protests spill from his lips even as his cunt flutters greedily around every inch, sucking Remus’ cock back inside with each tug.
“You can,” Remus grunts. “You will. This is what your body’s for, sweetheart—nothing but a tight little cunt for me to knot and breed.”
Sirius rises from the chair in silence, climbing onto the bed. He kneels beside Regulus, one hand brushing a tear from his flushed cheek while the other drifts lower, finding a swollen nipple and rolling it between his fingers.
"Shhh, baby," he murmurs. "You can take it. You’re doing so fucking well, little star."
Regulus gasps, hips jerking uncontrollably as Sirius pinches the oversensitive bud. His breath stutters, caught between pain and pleasure, overwhelmed by how sweet the praise feels when it’s wrapped around something so filthy.
“We’ll make it fit,” Sirius assures him. “You just keep taking him like that, little star. Let him stretch you open around his knot.” His gaze flicks downward, eyes settling on the swell in Regulus’ belly, right where Remus’ cock is thick and pulsing, the knot growing steadily with each thrust.
“Fuck,” he breathes, brushing a hand over the bulge. “Look at you. So stuffed, baby. You can feel every inch as he breeds you open, can’t you?”
Sirius’ fingers return to Regulus’ nipple, circling the swollen bud again as his voice dips lower. “Just a little more, yeah? Be a good boy for us.”
Remus groans as his hips snap forward with mounting urgency. The resistance is brutal, Regulus stretched to the edge, cunt clinging desperately around the bulbous base of his cock. But Remus is beyond holding back. With a feral, broken sound, he grinds in harder. The knot catches, then forces its way past the trembling rim with a slick, obscene pop!
A guttural growl rips from his chest as the knot locks in place, throbbing violently—and then he's spilling, helpless and spent before he even realises it. His cock jerks inside Regulus with every pulse pumping thick, scalding-hot spurts of cum deeper into the tight, overstretched heat.
It pours into him in relentless waves, and under Remus’ splayed hand, Regulus’ belly begins to swell even more—rising visibly with every gush.
Regulus’ whole body locks up.
His own orgasm rips through him instantly. His cunt clamps down hard around Remus, spasming wildly. As much as Remus is locked inside him, Regulus’ body refuses to loosen even slightly—clinging tight, milking him for every last drop
He sobs, tears spilling hot down his cheeks as his back arches off the mattress, muscles trembling, mouth open in a cracked, high-pitched whine that borders on a scream.
Even with the knot locked deep inside, the mess starts leaking. Slick and cum seep around the seal, dripping thick and slow down the backs of his thighs. His cunt twitches helplessly, too overstretched, too full, too stuffed to hold it all.
And still, it doesn’t stop.
It keeps leaking and leaking.
“T-Thank you! Thank you! Fuck—thank you!”
Remus groans, hips rolling in slow, instinctive thrusts, the thick knot grinding mercilessly against Regulus’ sweet spot with every lazy grind. It pulses inside him—steady and rhythmic. Each throb sends a fresh shudder through his body, twitching and overstimulated, caught in the sharp edge of too-full and still craving more.
Sirius moans low in his throat as he watches, one hand wrapped tight around his cock, the other returning to pinch Regulus’ nipple between two fingers and pulling in a punishing grip. The bud stretches under the pressure, flaring red and raw. Regulus lets out a strangled wail, hips twitching uselessly as he tries to pull away.
Regulus blinks up at him, barely there, tear-streaked and glassy-eyed, mouth parted in a soft, ruined moan, cheeks glowing a sweet, innocent pink.
“Siriii.” He whines.
That’s all it takes.
Sirius jerks forward with a strangled cry, his whole body seizing as he cums. He leans in close, unable to stay still, and the first hot spurt hits Regulus’ chin. Another streaks across his cheek, smearing his lips and lashes. It drips in messy trails down his flushed skin, pooling in the delicate curve of his collarbones.
The sight causes a fresh waves of Remus' orgasm to tear through him, cock still pulsing deep inside as he pumps another load into the stuffed heat. His knot swells again, stretching Regulus impossibly wide—so full there’s simply no room left.
Each fresh gush of cum spills out instantly, leaking around the swollen seal and sliding down Regulus’ thighs in thick, hot rivulets.
A sense of clarity hits Remus all at once.
It crashes over him like cold water, slicing through the heat of the instinctive, animalistic desire that had driven him. He blinks, chest heaving, and for the first time in minutes he feels human again, no longer ruled by that raw, single-minded need to breed. The haze begins to lift.
“Oh. Merlin,” Remus mumbles.
He shifts his hips back slightly, just enough to feel the strain where his knot holds them tight. The moment he tries to pull out, Regulus cries out—a high, startled yelp that makes Remus jolt in alarm.
He thrusts forward again, forcing the knot even deeper. Regulus lets out a choked sound as his belly bulges visibly, the thick shape of Remus’ cock outlined beneath his skin.
“Sorry. Shit. Sorry, little star,” he breathes, panic creeping into his voice. “Didn’t mean to—fuck—you’re so messy. I’m so—”
But Regulus isn’t listening.
His body arches off the bed, wrists pulling helplessly at the ribbons as his thighs tremble violently. He lets out a broken moan, mouth falling open as another orgasm rips through him. His cunt flutters helplessly around Remus’ knot, clenching down as slick gushes out around the locked swell, joining the mess already dripping between his legs.
Remus can only watch, stunned into silence as Regulus falls apart untouched beneath him.
“Sirius!” He whines, turning to his brother. “Siri. Please.”
Sirius moves without a word, the reverence in his touch making up for what his voice doesn’t dare say. He kneels closer on the bed and reaches for Regulus’ wrists, the ribbon still stretched tight where it binds him. His fingers work gently at the knot, undoing it.
Once it loosens, he brings each wrist to his lips in turn, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to the reddened skin. He murmurs something muted, something only for his own ears, something that’s sounds distinctly like: “mine.”
Regulus clings to him immediately, too exhausted to do anything else. His arms lay loose around Sirius’ waist, and he buries his face in the bare skin of his brother’s thigh, breath hitching with soft, hiccupping sobs.
Sirius pets his hair gently, fingers carding through the sweat-damp strands, combing out the tangles as he murmurs gentle praise into his ear.
Remus doesn’t move.
He watches the scene unfold with a low, involuntary groan, the sound thick with guilt and longing. His cock is still buried inside Regulus, knot swollen and full, pulsing gently with each of his shallow breaths.
“I’m sorry,” Remus whispers again, voice ragged. “I know it’s—fuck—it’s too much. But you’re so small and...I think Moony likes that.” He admits, blushing.
Remus' hips move in an instinctive rock that only pushes his knot deeper.
“Fuck. You’re gonna be leaking for days.”
His hips twitch forward again, a tiny unintentional movement. A movement driven by lingering carnal desire. A small part of his brain still screaming: breed, breed, breed.
Every twitch of Remus’ hips does nothing but tug at Regulus’ stretched puffy hole, pulling softly and relentlessly. There’s no give. Just the steady, possessive pulse of his cock where it’s locked inside.
“Fuck my knots getting fatter,” Remus groans. “Got you all traped, don't I little star? All stuck, still ripe for my taking.”
He rocks forward instinctively, a tiny thrust, barely there—just enough for the knot to catch and drag against the fluttering ring of muscle once more. Remus watches, transfixed, as it tugs Regulus’ rim taut again, stretching him even wider. Another warm gush of slick and cum leaks out around the knot, spilling down Regulus’ thighs in wet, messy drips.
Regulus moans weakly, still nuzzled into his brother's lap, too fucked-out to answer properly. His fingers twitch where they rest on Remus’ forearm, a barely-there reassurance.
Sirius just grins, brushing back the damp hair clinging to Regulus’ temple, he presses a lingering kiss to his forehead.
“Don’t worry. I don’t think he wants you out, Moony,” he smirks. “Not after that. Not with how full he is. Just look at him. He's still clenching around your knot like he’s afraid it’ll slip out.”
Remus groans, throwing his head back. His strong hands wrap around Regulus' thighs in a possesive grip, “Come ‘ere.”
He lifts them both with gentle strength, groaning as the knot tugs and stretches with the motion. Regulus whines, but doesn’t resist—he goes pliant in Remus’ hold, and lets Remus lean back against the headboard.
Regulus ends up straddling his lap, his flushed chest pressed tight against Remus’. Remus remains buried deep inside him, the knot swollen and snug, locked so tightly that the new position only pushes it deeper, if that’s even possible. The pressure draws a soft, broken whimper from Regulus.
Eventually, Regulus lets out a relaxed, contented breath and shifts slightly in Remus’ lap. His hips move in tiny, slow figure eights, the motion more instinct than intention, soft and mindless, just enough to keep the knot pressing against that sweet, sensitive spot deep inside him.
His head tips toward Sirius’ shoulder, and his fingers reach out blindly, searching. When they find Sirius’ hand resting on his waist, he brings it forward and begins to toy with the heavy rings on his brother’s fingers. One by one, he spins them gently, dragging them over his knuckles, twisting them back and forth in a lazy rhythm.
His other hand curls at the base of Remus’ neck, fingertips drawing soft, absent shapes into his skin. Between a star and the moon, he rocks in slow orbit—content to be pulled by their gravity, worshipped in tandem.
Remus exhales against Regulus’ temple, lips brushing the soft skin as he murmurs, “You burn so bright, little star.”
Sirius’ eyes dance over them, his voice barely more than whisper. A scentence Remus isn't sure he meant to say out loud.
“Maybe too bright to ever belong to just one of us.”