It was 5am when Sirius realized he wasn’t a good person.
It was an awfully serene scene – the sun streaming through the curtains, the birds singing outside, the light in his hair. It was mocking. It was deserved.
Sirius looked at himself – the same grey eyes, same pale skin, the same nose and lips that he saw everyday. The same rot that had found a home inside.
Sirius was repulsive, this was a fact. Perverted. Cruel. It was clear as day, from his swollen lips to the marks on his neck, the sins he’d committed.
“You’re sick.” He muttered. The man in the reflection said it back to him, the man in the reflection had evil eyes like his mother and soft hair like his brother.
Regulus.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’d messed up. Again and again he messed up – gave into the lust, the worst of his desire. He’d stood here last night with his fingers between Regulus’ thighs, he’d said those words to Regulus – you’re sick you’re sick you’re sick –, he’d stripped and put his hands on his brother and held him down and fucked him. He’d manipulated Regulus into wanting it, definitely, Regulus would never want it himself. Regulus was good. He’d always been good. He was the good one, Sirius was not.
Fingers.
Fingers on his waist, tugging him back. Sirius’ eyes were unfocused but he could recognize them – long, calloused, cold – as they led him back to bed, as they pushed him down gently, as they tugged at his clothes.
He’d infected Regulus. He had, somehow, transferred this lust, this sin, this evil into his brother, his brother who was sweet and gentle and cried when someone yelled too loud was now kissing his brother, tugging Sirius’ piercing between his teeth.
Why had he done it? Why did he have to spoil everything he touched?
(Had that sweet, gentle kid ever been Regulus? Why was Sirius so desperate to cling to the past? Was it because it was harder to think of himself as a child and still say he’d always been the bad one?)
“Stop it,” Sirius mumbled. The desire must have stopped his voice from being louder. If he’d truly been good he’d rip himself away, he’d push Regulus off and leave. He didn’t. He froze.
“You want this,” Regulus said, or had it been his own voice? Whoever had said it had been right, anyway. Sirius must want this. The pain, the hurt, the guilt was nothing but a punishment – he’d ruined his brother because he wanted wanted wanted, and now his brother wanted wanted wanted him.
“We can’t,” his voice broke. His breath caught. No, no, no. “Regulus we can’t–”
Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.
Regulus’ fingers on his face, his chest, his torso, his hips. Regulus’ fingers on his trousers. Regulus’ fingers tugging down his trousers. Regulus’ fingers leaving him naked.
“Regulus,” he whispered.
Why can’t I move?
You want this, you want this, you want this.
“Please don’t,” Sirius gasped.
He didn’t move. Didn’t move when Regulus stripped, didn’t move when Regulus sunk down Sirius’ cock, didn’t move when Regulus started to move up and down the length.
You want this, you want this, you want this.
“You want this, I want this, Sirius, Sirius, Sirius–”
He couldn’t hear or breathe or think. The goodness inside him was leaving, the innocence seeping down his eyes and into his ears in streams of salty rivers.
“You’re my everything,” Regulus gasped.
“You’re my brother,” Sirius whispered.
“It doesn’t matter,” – hands hands hands on his face lips on his face lips on his lips – “It doesn’t matter; I’m yours, you’re mine.”
I’m yours, you’re mine.
I’m yours, you’re mine.
I’m yours, you’re mine.
“Regulus.” Sirius finally opened his eyes, saw his brother, his kin, his flesh and blood riding his dick and spasmed as he came. Regulus screamed as he did, unloading all over Sirius’ chest, then falling onto it, hands in his hair.
Stop it, Sirius thought helplessly. Stop it, stop it, stop it.
sorry but if you don’t draw yuri then maybe you should add to posts who drew it? unless it’s official ofc so it would be yuri propaganda which respects artists!!
..It's taken from Pinterest.. I thought ppl would notice that- so I never really cared to include artist...but from now on I will do reaserch from who the art is if it's fanart or something else..
So I'm on a school field trip and I have one question. WHAT IS UP WITH PPL AND DATING?? and also, why do they (school couples) feel the need to be feeling each other up every fucking moment? We're walking to a important memorial, and ur too busy making out with your pookie wookie, honey boo boo bear RIGHT INFRONT OF ME.
NO ONE WANNA SEE THAT SHIT.
I'm okay with holding hands and hugging (I do it w/ my friends all the time) but as soon as ur hands end up lower than the waist in a hug, or one of you is actively leaning on the other, I am actually so deeply disgusted. Maybe it just has to do with me hating most of the ppl here, but idk.
Also same girl from last time is complaining about "he's ruining my trip" and "I hate him" and her friend goes "then break up with him" AND SHE GOES "no but I love him" girl. If he was genuinely making ur trip worse WITHOUT BEING HERE then I think it's time to ignore his messages and have a good rest of the trip.
