Sitting up, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“I'm not a Shelby” She responded with more annoyance than she'd like.

“Oh” The older woman said with a hint of shame. “My apologies. Mr. Shelby asked to bring you tea and some pain relief tonic,”

Y/N nodded, thanking her quietly before she rose from the bed, looking around. The room looked familiar in a less than pleasurable way, just like the clothes she was wearing. Sighing deeply she walked out of the room, seeing the dark corridor of the places she once called home.

After getting refreshed and dressed, Y/N walked toward the grand staircase. She stopped cold, feeling goosebumps running through her spine in the worst possible way when she saw the monumental portrait of Thomas and her in the stairwell. One she used to see everyday. The eyes on the portrait looked as lively as ever, mocking the pain she held in her chest every time she saw it. There she was, the former lady of the house, laying claim to her domain even from the grave. The longer she stared at her, the more she felt Grace was taunting her. “You may have been his woman once, but I have his heart and his ring on my finger now.” The words rang in her ears, coming from the depths of her memory, loud as the day she heard them for the first time. Y/N couldn't seem to be able to tear her gaze away, silently battling the ghost that seemed to curse her relationship forever.

She stood there for a long moment, immersed in the painting so much that she didn't realise she was being watched.

Thomas stood in the doorway on the other side of the corridor, watching her silently losing the battle as shame gnawed on his insides. He should have thrown it away long ago, but it was the last thing on his mind as he desperately looked for Y/N everywhere. The dead woman on his wall wasn't a big concern.

“You're awake” He spoke up, unable to handle the silence anymore.

She turned around, almost startled, as he caught her staring at her. The first thing she noticed were the glasses on his nose, and she fought against the little smirk that tried to appear on her lips so badly.

“What am I doing here? Where are the boys?” She asked, straight to the point. Thomas shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, knowing she wouldn't be happy with the news.

“Boys are with Frances upstairs, playing.” He responded, looking her in the eyes. “You're not safe outside of Arrow house. You three need to stay here until the vendetta is over.”

“What if you had more men surrounding my flat instead?” Y/N bargained.

“It’s too dangerous and I need my men concentrated not spread out over cities” he replied, already prepared for the questions he knew she'd ask.

She wanted to argue so badly. Y/N wanted to be free from him and the reminders of the past that this house held. But she knew that receiving a black hand was a serious threat she didn’t have the capacity to handle by herself.

“The only reason I'm not leaving right now is because I need to keep them safe.” She said, stepping closer. “...and if anything happens to us, I want you to know that it's all your fault.”

Despite knowing and seeing the pure hatred in her eyes, Thomas could never fully brace himself for the impact of her words.

“Nothing will happen to any of you. I give you my word” He said, quieter this time.

“Your word means nothing to me, Thomas. Just… just stay away from us as much as possible.” Y/N added, wanting to walk away.

“You can't expect me to stay away. They.. are my kids. My sons.” He said suddenly, and the confidence and fierceness of his voice made her stop in her tracks. “I regret losing you every single day. Every day I grieved the loss of my bloody heart, and then I found out there's three I should have been grieving. But you're here, and so are they. So I won't let yo–them go.” He hissed out, almost frantically and the vulnerability in his eyes made her slightly tremble. It hurt even more, because she waited so long to hear.. anything. Any crumb of reassurance would be enough to keep her here, but he didn't say a fucking word.

Straightening her back, Y/N inhaled a deep breath, looking back at the bloody portrait who was witnessing the whole scene. Seconds later she looked at him again, and the fire in his eyes was more lively, outweighing the dead, judgemental stare.

“They won't call you their father. If you break this rule, you won't see us again.”

***

The next day Y/N woke up, bracing herself for another battle as she walked down the stairs and to her surprise, the portrait was… gone. Her heart thumped wildly at the realisation and she couldn't believe her eyes. Suddenly the tension in the house seemed to have lessened.

Walking to the kitchen, she noticed Thomas sitting by the table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in his hand, as he read the newspaper. It felt weirdly domesticated and the thought alone made her smirk.

“Did the boys eat?” She asked, not sure what to expect.

“Frances fed them an hour ago. Tommy is napping in the living room, and Nick is picking daisies with Mary in the garden.” He responded in a calm tone, not tearing his gaze away from the newspaper.

Silence hung in the air as they each did their own thing

Finishing up her breakfast, Y/N cleared her throat again as she looked at the wall in front of her.

“The portrait is gone” She pointed out in an emotionless voice, not looking at him. A couple longer moments passed before she heard him exhale a cloud of smoke.

“What portrait? He responded, and Y/N’s lips stretched into a subtle smile before she grabbed her plate and walked away.

A couple days later Y/N still avoided him, occasionally getting to talk to John or Arthur, but both of them were distracted by the giant threat hanging over the family. Polly seemed to keep it together the best, coming over whenever she felt like it for some female company.

Y/N said her goodbyes to Polly, going to put the cups into the sink and cleaning the mess after Nick. She wasn't used to having maids doing everything for her, so it was more comfortable to just clean the mess herself. Nick himself was currently spending time with his uncles by the stables, and Tommy was… who knows where.

After cleaning, Y/N went looking for the other boy, asking Frances who just directed her to the little room where the toys were stored.

She expected everything, but not the view she saw arriving in the doorway. Little Tommy sat back on his legs, watching with wide eyes and furiously colouring the different shapes Thomas drew for him.

“Dat?” Tommy asked suspiciously, pointing towards the crooked flower on the paper and glancing at him with big eyes.

“This?” He asked with a grin, “that's a flower” he explained, to which the boy nodded, narrowing his eyes lightly.

“...and dat?!” He asked suddenly in a squeaky tone, seeing the car Thomas drew for him.

“That's a car. Almost” He chuckled, seeing the crooked shapes as he tried his very best.

Tommy nodded, grinning in the same way as his father before glancing at his mum.

“Hi!” He waved, before pointing to the flower again. “fwowa!” he said proudly, pushing his little chest forward.

Thomas just laughed quietly, putting the pencil down.

“Good job, little man” he said, before slowly rising from the floor with a groan.

“Oh God, I'm too old for this” He whispered with a chuckle, glancing at Y/N who wasn't able to suppress the smile on her face after she heard Tommy talk. “Don't smile like that, now it's your turn.” Thomas added, passing by her in the doorway, his shoulder brushing against hers.

***

The next couple weeks were… rougher. Changretta was relentless in his search, which turned into a couple of seriously dangerous situations where John got shot in the chest barely coming out alive. Polly didn't agree with a lot of Thomas' actions, despite his inability to back off right now. He stood his ground, no matter how difficult it was sometimes to keep Y/N inside Arrow house whenever worse moments would arrive. And they did, fairly frequently.

The pull he felt became stronger and stronger, no matter how many daggers she kept throwing. Spewing the words she held deep inside, reminding him of the monster he used to be… or maybe still was? He couldn't tell. The view in the reflection of his mirror was so blurry, that it didn't matter. As long as she saw him to be fit enough to be around boys.

The house was completely quiet as he made his way through the corridor, lacking the usual sounds of kids playing or Y/N walking from one room to the other. Walking past the library, he caught a glimpse of light coming from the room that made him stop in his tracks.

His hands trembled with anxiety. The fear settled in his ribs over three years ago and hasn't left him once, even though they were here.

Thomas was aware of how powerless he was once the vendetta was over. The thought of them leaving the house and never coming back was making his heart squeeze painfully, reminding him of the privilege he once had, but gave it up willingly. The fear was like a loop, tightening around his throat with each passing day as he grew comfortable coming home and seeing them here.

Walking into the library, Thomas was completely quiet, wanting nothing but to see her if it was all he could count on. He was completely unaware of the fact that she always felt his presence. Sometimes letting him stay, and other times making him leave so desperately that made him wonder whether it was possible to day from a broken heart.

Step after step he tried to control his shallow breathing as he finally saw her. Standing by the big shelf, he traced over the backs of books standing there for so long, it felt like they were always there.

“You wouldn't like that one” He spoke up quietly, noticing how she didn't even budge hearing his voice. It took a longer moment before she replied.

“How so?” Her voice was calm, light-hearted as she found herself lost in the countless stories filling up the wooden shelves. The nagging thoughts in his mind disappeared the second he heard her voice.

“Because you don't like uncertainty. It's filled with unanswered questions and has an open ending.” He thought for a moment before replying, well aware of the content of this book, because he read them all. In the moments of despair, trying to hold onto every scrap of feelings in the house so empty, it felt like nobody lived inside.

Sighing deeply, Y/N put the book back in its place, grabbing another one.

“Nobody likes uncertainty, Thomas. Holding onto the moment, unsure of what's to come.” She sighed, hearing his slow footsteps approaching. “A book is just a book. You can close it, and move onto another one anytime. If only life was just as easy.”

Silence in the room caused the whole scenery to become more intimate, unexpectedly even for him. Stopping mere inches behind her, he watched the back of her head for a moment, remembering the nightmares he had every night. Ones where he couldn't reach her, no matter how he tried.

His breath caught in his throat as he slowly raised his hand, moving it closer and closer towards her shoulder. Inches away, he noticed the goosebumps covering her skin. Without looking he reached out to the shelf, grasping onto the book he knew by heart, while his arm brushed against her own.

He stood close, too close, and Y/N knew it too well, yet she couldn't bring herself to make him leave or pull away. The way he trembled as his chest pressed lightly against her back made her stand still.

“You'd love this one” He whispered, not feeling brave enough to speak loudly. The uncertainty they talked about he knew better than anything else.

Her breathing became heavier, feeling him so close, the tingling on her skin she hadn't felt for so long almost made her flinch. Slowly, she turned around facing him.

This, Thomas didn't expect as she suddenly looked up, their eyes meeting in a gaze long forgotten, yet still alive and lively as when they looked for the first time.

“I don't read anymore” She confessed quietly, and his eyes couldn't help but watch her lips intently. The way they wrapped around the words she spoke.

The urge to grab and hold her closer was strong, almost too strong. Tommy tilted his head to the side, getting a better look at her face in the dim light.

“I can read it to you” He offered quietly, as it was the closest she allowed him to… just be near her.

So he waited, scared of ruining the moment as she moved closer. Their noses brushing against each other.

“I wanted you to speak, not read.” The sound of her voice was like the most beautiful music he ever got to listen to, even though the words were far from it. “...but now it's too late, and you're standing too close.” her breath touched his lips, taunting.

…and then she pulled away, leaving him standing there. Slowly making her way out of the library.

“You're cruel” He said, loud enough for Y/N to hear.

***

Y/N opened her eyes suddenly, sitting up as she took a deep breath, desperately trying to blink away the nightmare she had. The clock showed three AM in the morning, and her heart was pounding from the fear she felt. One she rarely felt anymore, feeling as Thomas was taking it over day by day, despite her unwillingness to share anything. Even the broken, ugly parts he ruined.

His cold eyes kept looking at her in the dream, so unfazed by the idea of her absence. The humiliation turned into physical tears rolling down her cheeks as the memories clouded her reasoning.

Getting up from her bed, she remembered the way he touched her. Avoiding her eyes, throwing his head back. Not bothering to bare himself, so eager to take but never give. Forcing her to pour from a completely empty cup.

Her bare feet were cold against the floor as she quickly made her way through the corridor, knowing where she'd find him. Swiftly opening the door to his office, Y/N didn't bother to say a word or wipe her tears away as she quickly walked up, not looking him in the eyes.

“Y/N?” He asked, taking his glasses off and setting them on his desk while she suddenly pulled him back, creating more space to straddle his lap. Tears kept streaming in a smaller amount, but never ending as she ripped his shirt open, baring his chest.

“What are you–” He tried to speak up, but she didn't let him, as she pressed her lips against his so aggressively his breath caught in his throat.

Pulling on his belt she unbuckled it skillfully, a motion she knew too well from all these years ago. The inner pain burned her chest as she kissed and bit him, while pushing his arms away.

“Shut up” She hissed, as the humiliation from the memories took over her mind. The shame of giving and never asking for more. Of being taken and left without any rest. Pulling his pants open she stroked him impatiently, doing just enough to get him going. It wasn't difficult, as he was the only man she ever slept with, knowing his habits and body more than she'd care to admit.

Her nails raked over his throat and chest, ripping a deep groan from his throat.

He didn't dare to ask, feeling and giving everything she wanted to take. Despite the burning, the physical attraction and need she felt was stronger, her arousal glistening and visible as she lined him up with her entrance, not caring enough to be slow or subtle as she sank down on him fully. A subtle moan pushed past her lips as she squeezed her eyes tightly, doing the same thing he used to.

His eyes were wide open, taking the beautiful sight of her on top of him, but the expression on her face made him hurt so badly, he thought he might not survive. He reached out, wanting her to look at him, but she refused, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly as she moved on top of him frantically chasing her release.

“Y/N” He begged quietly, as her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing to cause pain.

“I hate you. I hate you so much” She whimpered, as his fingers dug into her thighs.

“Please” He whispered, and she let go of his throat, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Thomas wanted to reach out to wipe her tears away, but he knew she wouldn't let him.

So he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against her collarbone when he let out a shaky breath.

“I love you” He whispered weakly, holding her tightly as she haven't stopped moving even for a second, brimming on the edge.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you” She cried out, opening her eyes as she looked down at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were half lidded but he didn't give up, staring and repeating like mantra.

“I love you” kept spilling from his lips as she reached her peak, causing him to follow right after as they reached the release.

His head fell forward, tears escaping his tired eyes as she quickly got off of him, leaving him without a word.

***

Y/N was growing increasingly restless inside of the Arrow House. Her days had been filled with reading and finding activities to keep her sons occupied, which took less time than usual, as Thomas took every opportunity to spend time with them. There was one room she had only been in once prior on this visit. She shuddered at the memory of her desperate conflicted intimacy with Thomas. Y/N knew that room would hold a concentrated form of his presence and essence, even more so after that night. She wasn’t sure if she felt strong enough to enter his sanctum again, but while Thomas was away on business and her boys were having their afternoon nap, the curiosity overcame her hesitation as she entered his space.

It was incredibly… him with deep mahogany furnishings and sumptuous emerald accents. During that night, she had paid no attention to the surroundings in the office - only to him and her inner emotions. Slowly she went deeper into his study, turning on a lamp at his desk. She could picture him here with those round glasses on, absorbed in matters of business both legitimate and less so. To the side of his desk was a small curio cabinet filled with antiquities and presumably family mementos. It hardly garnered a second thought from her until she noticed a figurine on the top shelf next to an old photograph of Thomas and his siblings. It was the figurine.

Before the war, before everything changed, she and Thomas would wander around Birmingham together - young and full of optimism. Both their families were poor and doing their best to survive in the cruel world, but they were the dreamers of their respective clans. He and Y/N often visited a certain shop that sold trinkets and collectables. Y/N yearned to be able to spend money on frivolous little objects like these one day. There was a specific figurine that she longed to own: a porcelain ballerina with graceful fingers and a white and pink lace ruffled skirt. She thought ballerinas were the most fairy-like women that walked the Earth. Of course neither of them could afford such a beautifully crafted figurine, but Y/N swore that one day they would walk in that shop and purchase her ballerina without a second thought to the cost.

That never happened, yet here it was, that same figurine she had seen so many years before sitting in Thomas’ curio cabinet in his most sacred space of his home. She didn’t know what it meant, but she felt tears prick her eyes at the reminder of those beautiful days from their youth. If only they could be like that again. If only the war and the turmoil after it hadn’t soured the tender young love they had known.

“I see you found your way back to my study” Thomas’ deep voice called from the doorway. Y/N was startled. She had been so lost in her memories and feelings that she hadn’t noticed his presence. She shifted awkwardly.

“Yeah, it seems like it.” She responded, glancing towards the curio cabinet. He slowly came up closer, a small grin on his face.

“What did you find?” Thomas asked, tilting his head to the side. Of course he knew what she saw, but wanted to hear it.

“I can’t believe you remembered my ballerina” Y/N said, not meeting his gaze.

“I went back to the shop to get it, but old Mr. Jones said he’d sold it years before. It took some hunting, but I eventually found her. I was hoping to someday show it to you, but… seems like you found her instead.”

“Why?” she questioned him in a small voice.

“Because this is how I remember you. You always said the ballerina was like a fairy or goddess come to Earth, but to me… when I saw that ballerina figure, I saw you.” Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she glanced back towards the cabinet and then back at the man in front of her. Letting out a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes.

“Why now? Why did it take you so long to… to do this? Anything. I waited so long and… and now it's too late, Thomas.” She said, looking at him with an expression that crushed him. Feeling his breath hitch painfully, he felt his throat tightening. He had grieved over losing her and now that Y/N was physically here, she had never felt more far away from him.

After looking into her eyes for a longer moment, Tommy grabbed her hand, slowly straightening it against his palm while the other one reached to his holster, pulling out his gun. Y/N’s eyes widened, but his gaze remained locked on hers, not faltering.

Finally, he didn't feel the fear. Holding the loaded gun, he slowly shoved it into her smaller hand, aiming it forward before he closed his eyes. Pushing his forehead against the muzzle tightly, keeping her wrist upright.

“Then kill me.” He said out loud, the words hanging in the air for a moment. “Because otherwise I will never let you go, no matter how hard you try.”

Thanks for reading lol bye

@iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @garrison-girl-08 @chaimaarouaine11 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @honeymoon8

“Good girl… Take my fucking cock.” He gruffed, wrapping a hand around your neck, fucking you even harder. You cried out and clung to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. He was leaning over your body with your legs on his shoulders basically pushed flat against your chest, unable to do anything other than take it. 

“Jackson..” You whined. Each hard thrust was punching little breaths and grunts out of you and he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in. 

“God— This reminds me so much of our first date.” He groaned, confusing you. Your first date was at a restaurant and he only kissed you after walking you to your door… You didn’t know what he was talking about and his cock ramming into you was making it really hard to think about it. He chuckled quietly when he saw your furrowed brows. 

“You don’t remember? It was right here in this bed, you were dressed up as a cute little fairy for Halloween and I was wearing a mask…” He trailed off, waiting for you to finally figure it out. Your stomach dropped as you recalled what was probably the worst night of your entire life. “You looked so pretty crying and begging for me like that, I knew I had to make you mine.” He said with a small smile, sounding almost endeared. 

You stared up at him in shock and horror as the small scar below your collarbone started aching at the memory. There’s no way that your boyfriend of almost nine months was the one who broke into your apartment and raped you last Halloween. 

“W-what?” You said through a breath, voice barely audible. His smirk widened as he took in the terror on your face. 

“I was thinking of waiting until Halloween, but I just couldn’t help myself.” He chuckled. “Plus it’s only a week away, and I figured you might shut down on the actual day.” 

All you could do was stare at him, a huge wave of emotions crashing down on you. When the angle of his thrusts shifted a little and he hit that one spot inside of you, you suddenly remembered that he was still fucking you and you started pushing him away. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” Any malice in your tone was completely overshadowed by fear. In response, he just grinned and squeezed your neck even harder until you gasped for air. 

“You were so tight that day… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for almost a year.” He groaned, then his eyes flitted down to your chest. “And that scar… Every time I see it I remember how pretty you looked, crying and begging under me as you took my cock like a good little girl— just like you’re doing now.” 

“Get off!” You yelled, the tears in your eyes beginning to fall as you thrashed under him. He shushed you and just grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head with one hand while the other moved to trace over the scar. 

“You know… The first time you got all choked up when I asked about it, I had to go to the bathroom and jerk off.” He chuckled quietly, looking between your face and the scar with an almost fond expression.

“Stop!” You screamed, becoming hysterical. “Jackson, please.” When you broke out into a sob, he cursed under his breath and moaned loudly, his thrusts becoming more frantic. 

“God- you were crying just like this…” He groaned, dragging his gaze all over your tear streaked face. “Only last time you weren’t about to come on my cock.” He said smugly. 

You shook your head almost violently, but you could feel your orgasm still approaching, despite what you just learned. 

“And, between you and me… based on how hysterical you were last year, I was worried you wouldn’t be interested in a relationship at all— let alone sex…” He said teasingly, but his voice was becoming breathless as he neared his own release. “But you surprised me.” He chuckled quietly. You could barely focus on his words with how hard you were crying, feeling completely frozen underneath him. “You were so desperate for it too. I guess that’s normal though… Something about reclaiming control over your body and what not.”

“Jackson, please stop.” You sobbed brokenly, but he wasn’t deterred at all.

“Stop? But you were just moaning like a little whore for me two minutes ago.” He said coyly. 

“I hate you!” You suddenly screamed, making him laugh again. 

“No. You hate yourself because you’re about to cream all over your rapist’s cock.” The hand not holding your wrists down moved to rub your clit and your crying intensified. 

“Stop!” You shrieked, thrashing under him uselessly. 

“Beg harder, baby… I’m close.” He moaned as his thrusts sped up. The smirk on his face that used to make you blush, made you sick to your stomach this time. 

You were mumbling incoherent protests and pleas and he let his head drop down as he moaned loudly. His fingers never faltered on your clit and you could feel your unwanted orgasm rapidly approaching. 

“No… No— please.” You sobbed weakly, making him look at you again. 

“Do it, slut. Come on my fucking cock while I rape you again.”

You were crying almost violently now, tears streaming down your cheeks as you practically started hyperventilating. “Please..” You whimpered, squirming under him weakly. The coil of arousal in your belly wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, sending you over the edge. “No,” you sobbed and Jackson groaned as your pussy fluttered around his cock. 

“Oh, good girl…” He cooed, making you cry harder. “That's it… Cream all over my dick, baby.” His usually smug tone that used to fill your stomach with butterflies, now just made you nauseous. 

“Stop! Please stop, Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, unable to hold back your moans and whimpers as his fingers continued rubbing firm circles on your clit. 

His lips parted in a silent moan and his eyes closed as his head fell forward, landing on your chest. With one final grunt, he bottomed out, his cockhead pressing against your cervix uncomfortably. You whined through quiet sobs, all while Jackson moaned… savoring every last bit of your suffering.

“Fuck..” He said through a breathy laugh once his orgasm finally faded. He leaned up, taking in the sight of your glossy eyes and quivering lip, then grabbed your cheeks to hold you still, letting him kiss you. No matter how hard you tried to turn away, he was stronger. He only released you once he was completely satisfied. “Mm… good girl.” He murmured, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. You were completely frozen under him, only able to let out hiccuping sobs. 

“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, his voice overly sweet. “But you’re not gonna leave me.” You stared at him, trying to keep a brave face, but you knew he could see your fear. “Raped twice? You’re damaged goods, sweetheart. No respectable man is gonna want you now.” You let out a choked sob and closed your eyes, hearing him coo again. 

“Plus…” when his voice turned a little serious, your blood ran cold in anticipation, “you’re gonna need me to stick around for our kid.” 

Your lips parted and you stared at him with both confusion and fear as you trembled. “What?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Lucky me, finding a girl who’s selfish enough to make sex feel less good— all because of the ‘hormones’ and side effects of birth control.” He sneered, his voice cold but with a cruel, almost playful lilt. Then he casually added, “You should be pregnant by now. I’ve been poking holes in all the condoms for almost two weeks.”

“Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, not even knowing how to react. 

“I know, honey, but I’ll take good care of you.” He pet your hair gently, then wiped away the tears on your face. “Your boss should be getting something in the mail soon. After he fires you, you’ll finally be able to live up to your full potential. You can move in with me and only have to worry about taking care of the house and our kids, and servicing my cock. Doesn’t that sound nice?” All you could do was cry and shake your head. 

One minute was all it took for Jonathan to always live in the shadow of his older twin brother, Jackson. 

Growing up, the twins were two peas in a pod. Jackson was overly protective over Jonathan, controlling what some would describe. It seemed that Jonathan was his little minion, others would rudely comment. But nevertheless, Jackson always looked after his younger brother. If there was ever a bully throwing pebbles at Jonathan, Jackson would search for the biggest rock to hurl at their head. 

The tight nature of their relationship continued on into their college years. Typically, they went to the same campus, one that suited and benefitted Jackson’s ambitions more than it did Jonathan. But Jonathan made it work outta love for his brother. That’s where their… little games… came into play. 

All created by the mastermind himself, Jackson. Jonathan was a pawn who was more than willingly to partake. All to make his big brother proud of him and to experience those urges that he was so scared to confront. Until one day Jackson gracefully skipped over the line without care and Jonathan had finally had enough. 

You could almost say Jonathan ran away from his old life. A fresh start, is how he’d word it. Gotham City was his oyster, the levels of fear and mayhem were constantly through the roof and Jonathan couldn’t pack his bags quicker to abandon his old life. 

These days, Jonathan’s sole focus was his work. 

In the present day, Jonathan had just returned home from Arkham, he dropped all of his belongings in his home office. Right as he laid on his lounge chair, coat and vest removed, his report book in hand, there was a knock on the door. It was unordinary, visitors were a rare occurrence. And for the off occasions that they did, they were not welcome. With an eyebrow cocked, Jonathan chose to ignore the unknown visitor. But when the knock continued in an irritating manner, Jonathan flared his nostrils and snapped his book shut. 

He strided down the hall, the heels of his polished shoes clicking on the wooden planks as he didn’t even consider to peek at who was on his porch. The door flung open, but Jonathan became frozen in his stance. For a brief moment, Jonathan thought someone placed a mirror at his doorstep, but that familiar mischief grin and shaggy hairstyle eliminated that thought. 

How many years had it been? Just over a decade now since Jonathan had stared at an almost perfect image of himself. Jackson brushed his hand through his damp hair, the common downpour in Gotham felt a bit too symbolic at the moment. 

“Johnny” Jackson grinned cheerfully, his arms inviting him in for a hug. 

An instant huff ran up from Jonathan’s lungs as his grip on the door tightened, prepared to slam it shut at any moment of impulse. As Jonathan slowly shook his head towards him, almost in a gear work motion, Jackson pouted back. 

“Why are you here?” Jonathan exhaled in annoyance, his posture straightened up as his eyes darted to the flash black Mercedes parked in the driveway. The one he noticed that was parked on the opposite side of the street as had returned home 

“Geez, aren’t you going to ask me how I am first?” Jackson chuckled, leaning towards the door, implying to be welcomed in. When Jonathan didn’t budge, a pure face of zero emotion locked on, Jackson sighed in defeat. “Jonathan Crane, a better last name than Rippner that’s for sure, however my name is quite fitting these days” Jackson brought up with shrugged shoulders and a smug smile. 

“How did you find me?” Jonathan narrowed his eyes. 

“Never lost you” Jackson winked, his arms crossed over his chest as he leant against the door. Silence quickly returned, the only sound being the rain attacking the roofing and cement outside. “Well, this isn’t the reunion I was hoping for” Jackson admitted, huffing lightly as stepping closer to enter, the tips of his polished shoes lined perfectly at the entrance. But Jonathan stood firmly in the way. “Come on, it’s been a long drive” Jackson urged, giving him sarcastic puppy eyes. 

Jonathan sighed, he knew his brother was as stubborn as him, if not more. He’d say that he’d stay on the porch all night like a dog, but Jackson would be easily capable of breaking in. Hesitantly, Jonathan stepped back and Jackson jumped at the opportunity to get into the warmth of his home. 

“Nice place” Jackson complimented, his head nodding in a rhythm as he strolled around his home. “However, this town certainly suits you and that mind of yours!” Jackson laughed softly as he tugged down at his suit jacket and threw it towards the living room sofa. Jonathan didn’t answer, he merely stalked him like a hawk, analyzing every sudden movement Jackson made. “But so, how’s work? Working with the criminally insane, it must be a constant field day for you” Jackson smirked, his mouth practically foaming with mockery. 

“It is” Jonathan replied bluntly, his eyes remaining low. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I do?” Jackson moped sarcastically, arms crossed over again.

“Personally, I have no interest” Jonathan answered sharply, looking up to Jackson. “Why are you here Jackson?” Jonathan sighed, yet his voice was firm, his arms mimicking Jackson’s. 

“My, how long are you going to be mad at me?” Jackson snorted. 

Jonathan repeated his question firmly. Jackson groaned in defeat and stepped towards his brother as he rubbed his neck awkwardly. 

“Because… I never had an opportunity to apologize” Jackson began, his tone hinting of regret and concern. “Probably because you ran away as quickly as you could. But you can’t say that I didn’t try to talk to you!” He continued on, a slither of frustration on his tongue. 

Jonathan stared blankly at Jackson, the last thing he wanted to do was think of that last memory together. Mentally, Jonathan was cringing at what unfolded, the emotions that stabbed at his heart. The stare off commenced, but Jackson knew Jonathan wouldn’t flinch even if something was thrown in his direction. Quickly, Jackson caved in to his younger brother and rested his hand on his shoulder. Initially, Jonathan flinched, his narrow blue eyes quickly shot back and forward like a ping pong ball.  

“I have brought you a gift. Something to repay our overdue broken relationship. An apology gift, to redeem me for my poor behavior in the past” Jackson revealed, a soft innocent smile on his lips. 

Finally, Jonathan smiled at his brother. A smile that made him wonder how interesting it could be. The ideas were sprouting in his mind like seeds buried deep in the dirt. Gifts were never conventional on their behalf. The last item they’d expect was a new shirt or pair of shoes. They always enjoyed the taboo things in life. 

Jonathan needed a nuisance of a classmate to shut up? They'd fall down a flight of stairs shortly after. Jackson wanted to woo over a bird? They’d happen to literally go running into Jackson’s arms after they were being chased by a masked figure on a late night. 

After he made the assumption that Jackson had literally been following his footsteps for years, he hoped that he had gotten rid of some dogs sniffing at his work. Maybe a couple of supplies that could massively improve his research. 

“I’m intrigued” Jonathan replied, his eyes roaming over Jackson for any obvious hiding spot. 

“Great! Firstly I need to move my car into your garage” Jackson explained as he waltzed off to the front door, dangling his car keys in his hand dramatically. 

“Why?” Jonathan inquired, trailing behind him. 

“For legal matters” Jakson said over his shoulder.  

Jonathan stopped in his footsteps. 

“Jackson” Jonathan warned, but the fire of adrenaline and excitement couldn’t help but to blaze.

“No, trust me! You’re going to love her” Jackson said excitedly, almost skipping out of the front door into the pouring downfall. 

“Her?” Jonathan almost choked. 

After eventually convincing Jonathan to open the garage door, Jackson rolled into the garage, Jonathan’s arms crossed over as the garage door slowly but loudly crept down, his heart pounding in his chest. Jackson almost tripped over to his boot since he was that excited. The boot clicked and raised open. As Jackson looked into his boot, his face lit up with pure joy. Jonathan’s head leant over in curiosity, his feet unknowingly shuffled forward as all he could analyze was Jackson’s expressions. 

Jackson spoke quietly and wagged his finger into his boot. It was all out of Jonathan’s hearing range and he could feel the anticipation rise. Jackson turned his attention back to his brother and gestured for him to come over. 

“I take it you never went into finance” Jonathan sighed as stood before the boot, staring directly into it with an intrigued look.  

“Yeah, I decided to recruit myself into the army shortly after you disappeared, then a great opportunity came up for me” Jackson explained calmly with a gentle nod. 

There you were, crammed in the boot. Strained eyes completely wide as you bounced from one brother to the other. The twins stared at you with pure fascination. Jackson rubbed his fingers over his lower lip whilst Jonathan caressed his chin, dissecting every single spec of your appearance. You were only wearing a matching set of red lingerie, Jackson’s favorite. Completed with a black ball gag latched in your mouth. You trembled like an abandoned puppy with your wrists and ankles bound together. A fresh set of tears trailed down your recent tear stained cheeks. 

“Dare I ask what you do?” Jonathan asked emotionlessly. 

“Let’s just say, people ask me for favors and I deliver. But hey, I was promoted to manager recently” Jackson gloated, his eyes ran over the goosebumps on your skin. 

“Who is she?” Jonathan inquired, but his tone lacked care. 

“Some rich fucker’s daughter. They wanted me to use her as ransom, then dispose of her afterwards. But she was such a good girl for me! My heart fought against it” Jackson exclaimed, a gleeful smile on his lips as the back of his hand moved your hair behind your ear. 

“How human of you” Jonathan snorted. 

“I can’t keep her. I travel too much. I wouldn’t be able to look after her the way she needs to be. But fuck, I’d regret… Disposing of her. She’s been my best fuck y’know? It’d be too much effort to hire someone to watch over her, not that I would even trust anyone” Jackson explained through a frustrated tone. 

That was the last thing he needed, to be your full time carer. It was typical for Jackson to pass off his broken toys to Jonathan. No, Jonathan had a perfect life, one that had no desires for authentications. 

“So this is a babysitting gig?” Jonathan scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Jackson. 

“No, this is me making it up to you. She’s my favorite girl, so I’m giving her to you completely, well almost anyways. Call us even now” Jackson nodded, proud and satisfied with his offering. 

Jackson was never marriage material, eventually he’d grow bored of you and throw you into the trash. But he knew that you deserved better, you needed to be looked after by someone that cares. Jonathan on the other hand, had that twisted obsessive nature that just screamed for someone to fulfill his personal needs. Despite how often he fought it and blocked it out, he needed companionship, somebody to hold onto in the middle of the night to keep his own nightmares at bay. Jackson already figured it out, you’d be his anchor. 

“Jackson- That’s not calling it even… You’ve already soiled her” Jonathan argued as he pressed his fingers to his forehead, Jackson snorted at his precise choice of words. 

“Oh come on! I’ve already planned it all out. Do whatever you want with her! I don’t mind! It really works for your benefit… She can be a little experiment for you. All I ask if that you don’t fuck her mind up too dramatically, I still want to drop by every now and again to see her” Jackson fought back, his similar blue eyes darting from his twin back to you, unable to keep his tongue away from licking his lips. Jonathan cocked an eyebrow at Jackson. The other twin laughed softly at his face of suspicion and confusion. “I know what you do at Arkham Johnny. It’s some fucked up shit. I didn’t realize our childhood was that bad” Jackson joked. 

“My work is for the greater good” Jonathan hissed, jaw locked. 

“Show me the mask and let me be the judge of that” Jackson patted his shoulder harshly. 

“Only if you induce some of my toxin” Jonathan shot back, a dirty glare locked in.

“Hard pass” Jackson chuckled. 

Both of them simultaneously turned their heads back onto you, you were shaking like a tree caught in the wind, tears dripped down your flushed cheeks. Jackson felt his arousal spark to his lower region, he always loved seeing how helpless and dependent you were. 

“I don’t want her” Jonathan shook his head.

Jackson’s proposition was impractical, Jonathan would have to watch you constantly. He was far too deep into his work to crawl his way back out, Jackson would just have to figure something else out for you. 

“Now! I know you always preferred bad girls. But this innocent sweet little thing really hits the spot, trust me” Jackson persuaded as he ran his hands up your cold curves. 

No, Jonathan couldn’t keep you full time. It was too much effort, you’d be distracting, irritating and costly. Not to mention, knowing that this was just an easy way out for Jackson made him fight against it. He had been over helping his brother for a long time, he was not going to walk back down that track. 

“My answer remains the same” Jonathan firmly stated, not cracking the slightest bit. 

“Well, I’m sure you can get a bite out of her if you really push her” Jackson snickered. 

Jonathan didn’t bite at his remark. Both blue sets of eyes watched you as you whined into your gag. The rope had cut into your flesh and the gag made your jaw ache. Jonathan wondered how long Jackson had been driving for with you confined into the boot. It was the middle of winter and the thin blanket was kicked off to the side, perhaps during a panic attack throughout the drive. 

No, stop wondering about you. 

The curiosity was loose on its lead. Jonathan needed to shut down the vast of ideas. But you were just so gratifying to the eye. Especially in all of that (or should he say little?) red. No, he had too many experiments already. Usually he would say the more the merrier, but he knew you’d be time consuming. 

“Take her and leave” Jonathan reminded him as he turned his head away from you.

Jonathan’s throat tightened, he swore he could feel a ball of sweat drip down. But Jackson only gave him a cocky look and pulsed his lips.  

“Have a taste of her first, then tell me that” Jackson chuckled, leaning closely to his brother. 

“No, I must decline” Jonathan waved his hands in dismissal. 

“Come on, look at her!” Jackson objected, pointing his hands at you. Quickly, Jackson wrapped his arm around Jonathan’s shoulders. “When was the last time you got laid Jonathan?” Jackson whispered, out of your hearing range, a wicked grin on his lips. A beat. Jackson twisted his head and looked Jonathan in the eyes.  “Johnny? When was the last time?” Jackson repeated, sounding far more concerned this time round. 

Jonathan cleared his throat and shrugged at his shoulders. “I have other greater focuses than sexual desires” Jonathan answered bluntly. 

Jackson scoffed loudly and flung himself off of him as if he was contagious. “Always so technical!” Jackson insulted harshly. 

“Enough Jackson” Jonathan raised his hand. 

Jackson sat on the edge of the boot. As you were silently sobbing, his hand reached back to comfort you. As you looked up to him pleadingly, he scratched your chin. 

“We had so much fun in college together! Don’t tell me you did it just for your big brother” Jackson winked, already knowing the truth. 

“Correct. What was your saying? What’s yours is mine. I wasn’t able to look at someone else without you catching on” Jonathan hissed, resisting not to snap out and jab his fingers on his chest. 

“I just didn’t want to miss out on the fun” Jackson shrugged his mouth, twisting his shoe on the floor like a disobedient child. Jonathan blinked darkly at him. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry about… Fuck, what even was her name?” Jackson muttered as he scratched the side of his head. 

Jonathan scoffed and turned his head away. Jonathan was infatuated with a fellow classmate. She was the total package in his eyes, at least his primal desires lead him to believe. She had led him on, whispered dirty fantasies in his ear for weeks. Unfortunately, Jackson eventually caught on and jumped at the opportunity. Quickly after, Jonathan walked into their dorm room with Jackson blowing at her backside whilst eagerly telling him to join in. 

“Hey, since we are speaking about her… I remember seeing her on the news years ago. I’m crossing my fingers that it was just a coincidence” Jackson spoke in a low tone, but his eyes were wide with curiosity. 

“She got what she deserved” Jonathan answered in a dead tone. 

“Fuck, you really are crazy!” Jackson bellowed out. 

Your cries increased, causing both sets of eyes to snap onto you. Jackson tutted and leant down to you, his warm hands somehow sent shivers down your skin as he caressed you. Jonathan watched with intrigue as he tried to calm you. Jackson was treating you like a lost puppy. 

“Babygirl, babygirl… Calm down, I’m sorting out your new home, my little brother just loves to be a stuck up twat at times'' Jackson chuckled, his thumb rolled over your chin whilst you tried to get your crying under control. 

“You need to leave” Jonathan stated sharply, his arms crossed over his chest yet again. Jackson looked over his shoulder. 

“Jonathan, I hate to put it all on you. But if you can’t take her, I’ll have to kill her” he said casually.

You screamed out and Jonathan’s cock couldn’t help but to twitch in his trousers. Had he been hard this whole entire time? But Jonathan shook off those urges. 

“I don’t care what you do with her. I will not be involved in your affairs again” Jonathan determined. 

“Fuuuck, I’m sorry babygirl… I tried my best, I really did” Jackson sighed as he pulled out a switchblade from his pocket. You shrieked out and squirmed around frantically.

“Fuck Jackson, not here!” Jonathan hissed. 

“Oh, her screams can be piercing. I can’t risk her drawing attention as I’m stuck in rush hour” Jackson explained. 

He balled his fists, but reluctantly let go of all of his anger as he locked eyes with you. The fear, oh the fear on your face was a perfect performance. It was hypnotizing. Jonathan was ready to drop to his knees to beg for you completely. But he knew he could bend you in whatever way. Jackson was as smart as he was dumb. It was a foolish move to offer you to him, Jonathan would corrupt you in ways neither of you knew. 

His hand rested on his shoulder as Jackson taunted the blade towards you. 

“Enough” Jonathan blinked.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do Johnny?” Jackson acted dumb, a mischief grin on his lips.

Jonathan didn’t reply, his eyes glued onto yours. Your words were muffled, but it was clear as day with how desperately you were pleading for your life. There was that look again, one that Jackson almost forgot about. The seed of obsession finally sprouted in Jonathan’s eyes. 

“She has lovely eyes, doesn’t she?” Jackson hummed. 

“Yes, you’re correct” Jonathan replied. “Does she have a name?” he asked softly. 

Jackson murmured your name and Jonathan couldn’t resist but to groan it out. Such a fitting name. But the color or size of your eyes wasn’t the reason for your beauty. It was the fear that swam like pretty fish in a pond. Jonathan reached out to touch you and you flinched, your chest shaking. 

“Shh, you don’t have to be scared sweetheart. I won’t hurt you” Jonathan assured as he slowly went to touch you again.

Not yet always. 

“Oh, you poor thing… You’re so cold” Jonathan pouted as his hands traveled over your thighs. “Open the door” Jonathan ordered as he reached into the boot to pick you up. 

“Okay boss” Jackson grinned as he headed towards the door. 

Jonathan sat you up on the sofa in the living room, followed by both of the brothers sitting at either side of you. Their similar soft blue eyes beamed into your soul, you weren’t sure which one to look at. For the familiar brother had this dark smug look on his face and the other one’s eyes were dissecting you like a pig. So you resulted in staring at a random spot in the living room, you glued your eyes onto the cream lamp, and tried to find the beauty in its design. Your shoulders caved forward, skin trembled, but thankfully Jonathan already had the heating on. It was sure that you’d warm up in no time. 

“Is she resistant?” Jonathan asked, his hands trailing over your bounded hands. 

The red marks on your skin were mixed of fresh and old, he wondered how often you tried to break free. Jackson’s hand slipped through your hair to your scalp, he scratched your head as he admired you. 

“Timid little thing she is. She’s quite cooperative. I doubt she’d dare to look in the wrong direction with the two of us here” Jackson answered with a dark smile. 

Jonathan examined your body, a soft exhale escaped his lips as his hands ran up and down your bare skin. Daringly, you locked eyes with the twin brother, his eyes softened, a smirk crept onto his lips. 

“You’re so cold sweetheart. So, so cold. Couldn’t he have given you something warmer to wear?” Jonathan teased as he leant closer to you, his breath fanned at your skin. Typically, you shuddered, which he adored. 

“Not my fault she kicked off her blanket” Jackson shrugged his shoulders, no empathy in sight. 

Jonathan gently undid your gag. A deep inhale came from you as you rotated your tense, aching jaw. Then you looked over to your abductor. 

“Ja-Jackson” you whimpered out hoarsely, your jaw stung. 

Jackson was quick to move his body towards yours, his cruel arms wrapped over your shoulders as he rubbed his nose against your cheek. A hint of jealousy flashed in Jonathan’s bright blue eyes, his arms should be around you, your body should be leaning into his. You laid your head on him as you tried to stretch out your jaw. How was it that you were showing trust to your abuser? Jackson’s eyes flickered from you both, he instantly picked up on the thoughts running through Jonathan’s mind. 

“It’s okay baby girl, my brother will be gentle… Maybe” Jackson chaffed as he patted your inner thigh. He leant into your ear, but didn’t bother to whisper. “Give Johnny a kiss for welcoming us into his home” he ordered. 

Your lips wobbled as you examined the seriousness in his command. Submissively, you turned your head towards Jonathan. A frustrated exhale left Jonathan’s lips, he didn’t like Jackson being in control still. But at the same time he couldn’t pass on feeling the sensation of your lips combined. You suckled on his lower lip breifly. Then Jonathan deepened the kiss, his hands tugged your body onto his, Jackson chuckled knowingly. With his tongue deep in your mouth, he explored every inch of you. The way your innocent moans and whimpers would vibrate was celestial. 

Jackson pressed his front against your behind. One hand rested on your hip whilst the other tangled itself into your hair. Playfully, he’d gently tug your head back, just to watch Jonathan’s expression turn more animalistic as he tried to keep your mouths combined. After a few minutes of that, Jackson abruptly pulled your head back, his head pressed against the side of your neck, Jonathan’s eyes narrowed.

“Come on baby girl, show him your gratitude and suck his cock” Jackson kindly suggested.

Jackson pushed you onto the floor, not harshly yet not kindly. With his cock begging to be set free from his trousers, Jonathan couldn’t look past that idea. Eagerly, he unbuckled his belt and welcomed his aching member. The binds made it hard for you to get comfortable on your knees, but you quickly shuffled closer to Jonathan. 

He leant forward to make it easier for you, his hands slipped into your hair as he guided you down his length. Jonathan was longer, Jackson was thicker. But they both had that same smooth look. Your eyes squeezed shut with embarrassment as you tried to do good, just like Jackson taught you to. You gagged out as you finally reached the base, it was so difficult to do with your hands restrained. 

Jackson praised you, his hand rubbing your shoulder as fresh tears broke free. Even though Jackson’s comments were irritating, Jonathan couldn’t help but to like how it motivated you to keep going. 

 “Fuck sweetheart, you’re doing a terrific job” Jonathan complimented as he caressed the side of your face with the back of his hand.

“Alright, come here baby girl, it’s my turn” Jackson hummed as he slipped his hand to his belt. 

A tidal wave of jealousy crashed over Jonathan suddenly. Literally fuck that, Jonathan will not be edged to watch his brother enjoy your sweet mouth. The same mouth that he had been abusing for months now. The mouth that is supposed to be a gift for him. His hands held your head towards his base. 

“No, your lips will stay around my cock until I finish” Jonathan demanded calmly, your cheeks hollowed out to please him. 

“Johnny” Jackson warned as his fingers tightened around his leather belt. 

“You brought her here for me, did you not?” Jonathan challenged, cocking a confident brow towards him.  

“So fucking greedy” Jackson muttered as he fell back onto the couch. Jonathan scoffed at his remark. His palm kneaded over his bulge, eyes fluttered with boredom of being cockblocked by his brother of all people. “Come on baby girl, show him how good I taught you to be” he coached as he noticed Jonathan’s shoulders tremble lightly. 

He leant forward again, your head bobbed up and down almost mechanically. Just the way he taught you so. Then, his member slipped free from your mouth, you ran your tongue down underneath and suckled on his balls. A quick, pathetic moan slipped out of his lips. A mischief grin grew on Jackson’s lips as he observed Jonathan try to keep a composed expression and figure. Jonathan used to moan all of the time, it was cute, him trying to act all tough nowadays.  

“Come on baby, pretend it’s me in your mouth” Jackson egged on, his tongue licked over his lips. Jonathan’s nostrils flared as he saw you look over to his brother. 

“Don’t listen to him and look at me” Jonathan ordered harshly.

His mouth fell open, vicious growls grunted out as his hands tugged at your roots to guide your mouth back throat deep onto him. When he spurted his white thick ropes out, his hips raised and eyes rolled back. A long overdue moan echoed throughout the room. You kept your head down like a good girl indeed. Gradually, he freed you and you gasped out for air. 

They both admired the way you struggled for calm breathing. The way your eyes squeezed shut, chest heaved and body trembled. Finally, Jackson undid his belt and pulled it from the loops. 

“So are we going to fuck her together like old times or what?” Jackson arrogantly asked as he stood up. 

Jonathan scoffed and stood up quickly, he squeezed his base to get the blood flowing again. “What makes you think I desire to go back to that trauma?” Jonathan dissed.

“Wow, time has certainly changed you” Jackson snorted. “Come on Johnny, for old times sake” he smirked, his hand resting on his shoulder. 

When you coughed out, the taste of salt all over your tongue, they both looked down at you. You sat on your side, your legs curled in and arms propped in front of you to hold your tired body up. It showed all of your curves perfectly. 

“Such an ideal body” Jonathan whispered, Jackson hummed in agreement. “Help me untie her” Jonathan ordered suddenly as he got onto the floor with you. 

Both of the brothers’ hands trailed over your skin. The goosebumps weren’t from the coldness anymore. Gentle moans escaped your lips as Jackson squeezed those random sensitive spots on your body, a cheeky smirk on his lips as he untied your feet. Jonathan’s eyes stalked you as he untied your wrists, you gulped as you looked up to him, he nodded his head to reassure you.Your body ached completely, you brought your hand up to your mouth and wiped it clean. 

“Gonna need to stretch you out completely after this” Jonathan sighed.

Jonathan lifted you up, his arms wrapped around the small of your back. Jackson came up and pressed himself up behind you. Jonathan coached you to reach up to the ceiling, praising you as you held your arms up to help relieve some of the tension in your body. Whilst Jackson kissed your neck sloppily, praising you of how good you always smell and taste.  

“She’s scared of you” Jonathan pointed out.

The look in your eyes was too familiar for him to determine as anything else. Jackson chuckled at the elephant in the room.   

“Yeah I mean I did steal her away, but she still likes me, don’t you baby?” Jackson murmured. 

“Y-yes Jackson” you whispered, your head turning slightly back. 

“She’s really shy, it'll take some time for her to talk to you” Jackson mocked smugly. 

“Hold her up” Jonathan clicked his tongue. 

Jonathan dropped to his knees and spread your knees apart. A shudder echoed through you as his slender digits traced over your inner thighs. Teasingly, he slowly pulled your thong off and planted gentle kisses on your calves. Then his fingers brushed over your glistering bare cunt. He could only assume that Jackson waxed you regularly, he hated hair down there. But all of the drip that trickled down your legs fueled his ego. He didn’t realize someone could get so turned on by giving head. Firstly he nibbled at the skin near your entrance. Gradually, his tongue motioned over to your clit, then he took your folds in his mouth. Embarrassed, you bit onto the insides of your cheeks, your moans grumbled out of you as your hips squirmed around.

“Don’t hold back your moaning baby, let it all out” Jackson chuckled, his hand slipped underneath your bra and pinched at your hardened nipple. 

Following his orders, you let up your shameful moans and flexed your hips back and forward. Jonathan grinned as he held onto the back of your thighs, his tongue deep in your warmth. You tasted like a golden apple, his tongue flicked over to every spongy spot it could reach. Your head fell back on Jackson’s shoulders as you felt your orgasm grow within your heated skin. His fingers rolled over your nipple as Jonathan rubbed his nose against your clit. A sudden hypnotic moan erupted in the room as you entered your state of pure bliss. You could have sworn that you saw stars, but you always thought you saw stars these days since being in Jackson’s care. 

You slumped into Jackson’s arms. Jonathan took great pleasure in cleaning up your climax. Leaving plenty of sloppy kisses on your inner thighs afterwards. With a gentle tug to his newly formed erection, he looked up to your beauty. 

“Thank you Jonathan” you gulped out as he rose to his feet. 

Jackson smirked behind you as Jonathan smiled softly at you. Manners were always a requirement for him, he’s taught you so well…

“Anytime sweetheart” Jonathan winked. 

“You want to fuck her pussy first or what?” Jackson winked back at Jonathan. 

Jonathan’s sweet expression soured instantaneously. 

“Her cunt is mine only” Jonathan spat with possessiveness, eyes two pitch black pools of greed. 

“Jonathan” Jackson gritted his teeth. “You’re skating on thin ice, I’m not a nice guy if given blue balls” he addressed, his hold on you tightened. 

“Want me to forgive you? I’m having this my way” Jonathan fought, a daring look on his face. 

“Fine, just for tonight though” Jackson exhaled dramatically as his hand rolled over your lips. “Are we going to the bedroom?” Jackson teased as Jonathan pressed his front to yours again.

“You’re not stepping foot into my room” Jonathan huffed. 

“Fuck my bad” Jackson rolled his eyes. 

There was zero care in Jonathan’s blood as he kissed you passionately, your body pressed back up against Jackson. Your arms trembled as you hesitantly wrapped them around his neck. Swiftly, Jonathan pulled you away from his brother, his hands carefully roamed over your bare skin and gripped onto your rear. 

“Okay darling, you’re gonna show me how well you can ride my cock, you okay with that?” Jonathan hummed as he guided you back to the couch. 

You tried to look over to Jackson for assurance, but Jonathan pressed his fingers to your jaw, keeping your eyes on him. Jackson watched darkly behind, his arms crossed over his chest as Jonathan whispered words into your ear. Then, you were carefully unbuttoning Jonathan’s white shirt. Jackson’s nostrils flared as he started to unbutton his own. When his undershirt was pulled over his head, Jonathan fell onto the couch, making sure that you straddled his snatched waist. 

He took off his glasses, but smiled as your beauty was still clear. Guiding your eager cunt above his dripping tip, you weighed your body onto his. You whined sweetly as every inch brought a new nourishing sensation to your tunnel. As you adjusted to his length, Jonathan grinned smugly at Jackson. 

“Here’s what we are going to do… We’re going to show Jacky how much better I fuck you? Alright sweetheart?” Jonathan instructed optimistically. 

“Oh Jonathan! Where did this confidence come from!” Jackson praised as he clapped his hands together.

Despite the heavy attempt to be cockblocked and degraded, he couldn’t help but to feel proud of Jonathan. Back in the day, Jonathan practically sat in the corner waiting for his turn. He’d be so shy, timid, awkward with a girl. Jackson really had to coach Jonathan on what to do, and how not to finish so damn fast. 

Jonathan ignored Jackson and motioned his hips up and down, the pace increased with each thrust. As the motions picked up, your usual stiff figure seemed to be melting like candle wax. Your head was buried in the crook of Jonathan’s neck, but Jackson had a perfect view of your needy hips acting like a bitch in heat. That look in Jonathan’s eyes was nothing that Jackson had ever seen in him before. 

A look of fear crossed Jackson’s face. The realization that Jonathan was going to be completely possessed by you spiked his jealousy. The idea of it felt perfect in his head, but now that it was real, Jackson feared he’d regret it the next time he’d drop by. Jonathan was going to corrupt you. Turn his good girl bad. 

No, fuck that. You’d remember who you truly belong to, always. 

Your legs were pushed out on the couch, cheeks spread apart, back hole on display for Jackson like a toy store at Christmas time. Finally, Jackson stripped his upper body naked and freed his eager member, soundlessly stepping towards you. 

“Jackson” Jonathan growled as he pressed his tip to your back hole. 

“Oh trust me, she loves anal” Jackson promised, one hand on your hip, the other on his size. 

You didn’t like it, it was clear by your initial expression. Immediately your stomach tensed as you felt Jackson intruding your back tunnel. The logic inside made Jonathan want to push Jackson off of you. However, he liked how frightened you were of Jackson, and how dependent you were on him instead because of it. Even if you didn’t notice it yet, because he had already picked up on how your arms are tightened around his neck and face inched closer to his. Likewise to what Jackson said, it works to his benefit. 

“You’ll be okay sweetheart, just look at me okay?” Jonathan reassured. 

You were crying intensely, but Jonathan couldn’t help but to get turned on even more by it. Luckily for you, Jonathan wasn’t a massive fan of anal either. So you’d never have to worry around him. Jackson’s thrusts were forceful, his lower lip in between his teeth as he took out the frustration Jonathan forced on him. Even though you hated having your backside abused, your puckered hole always seemed to wrap around his cock perfectly. 

“Such a good girl, you’re doing a terrific job sweetheart” Jonathan continued on, his hips rotated in circles. 

“Yeah, taking two fucking cocks. That's my good little whore” Jackson huffed as he slapped your rear. 

“Jo- Ja-” you panted, not knowing who’s name to moan. 

“Say it, say my name” Jonathan urged, his damp fingers pressed against your clit. 

“Jonathan” you whined pathetically. 

Jonathan smiled wickedly and hummed his praise. Earning a dirty look from Jackson. Jackson’s hand looped your hair as he pulled you back. He snarled by your ear, his nostrils flaring like a beast. 

“Jackson!” you panted, earning a satisfied grin from him. 

“Still my good girl?” Jackson whispered, out of Jonathan’s range. 

“Yes!” you promised instantly. 

“Good girl” Jackson grumbled before he pressed his lips to your heated cheek. 

He stayed over your back, giving you sloppy kisses left, right and center. It wasn’t common for Jackson to kiss you, only mainly during aftercare. But this urge inside of him demanded to show his brother who’s property you really were at the end of the day. 

“Doesn’t her pussy just feel like paradise Jonathan?” Jackson smirked, their cocks slowly disappearing and reappearing out of you. 

“It does” he agreed gleefully. 

“Understand why I said best fuck now?” he asked confidently. 

“Certainly” Jonathan moaned as you clenched around him. 

No one was sure if it was a competition as to who would finish first or last. Jonathan brushed your cervix repetitively, you moaned out in awe, a wide smile on your lips as your hips rocked faster and faster. Jackson hardly had to move his hips, you were that energetic. Both of them soon worried if they would be able to keep up with you. 

“Fuck baby girl, I’m close… Are you?” Jackson exhaled, his hands squeezed your cheeks. 

“She is” Jonathan chimed in, the corners of his lips wide apart. “I can feel her squeezing me for dear life” he pointed out. 

“Fuck Jonathan!” you suddenly screamed, a beautiful piece of art of pain and pleasure on your face. 

“That feels perfect doesn’t it?” Jonathan teased, his fingers caressed your cheeks. 

Jackson was gobsmacked. Where did Jonathan learn to talk like this, him, obviously. But it was almost like looking into his reflection, Jonathan had stepped out of his shell and broke it to pieces. Not to mention his dick game seemed to be evolved into a unknown creature. 

“Ughh! So good Jonathan! So-so” you stammered.

Your vision turned blurry as you felt your second orgasm climb higher than it ever has before. Never had Jackson heard you so vocal. Yes he could turn you into a moaning mess, but rarely would he get proper words out of you. You were just always so timid around Jackson. Somehow Jonathan has already gotten under your skin and Jackson found himself pumping his cock into you the way he knew it would make you scream. 

Jackson had always treated you like a shiny obnoxiously big trophy. He wanted to show off how he always had the best in the world. But Jonathan treated you like a priceless artifact, almost worshiping you even though you were supposed to be at his feet. It was known that he was studying you right now, figuring you out completely as you turned into a complete slut for them. Both of the brothers suffered from hubris traits. One of them may end up dying for you one day. 

You came first, Jackson thought that he’d melt into goo with how your entire body tensed. They both had to hold onto you as your body shook with massive vibrations. Your head dropped forward, Jonathan kissed you passionately as he pumped his tip against your sensitive walls. The sound of your moans were so angelic, they could listen to you for hours. 

Then followed Jonathan, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. His hold on you tightened as his cock completely disappeared inside of you. As your canal was marked in his white ropes, Jonathan gave you a tender kiss as he shuddered. Proudly, Jackson came last, filling your back tunnel full of his cum. It was always a sight to see his seed drip out of your holes. Somewhat instinctively, you pushed your body back up against Jackson. It took all of your strength, but Jackson held onto you and kissed you sensually. With his hands massaging your posterior, he let you go back to lay on Jonathan. All of you were covered in hot sweat, but only you and Jonathan were out of breath. 

“Oh, how I’m going to miss you babygirl” Jackson murmured to himself as he fixed his trousers back to normal. 

The two of you were latched as one, your eyes closed as Jonathan’s hands traced over your upper arms. With your head buried back in the crook of his neck, Jackson chuckled as he slipped on his undershirt. 

“Yeah, she loves to be held afterwards. She’ll quickly fall asleep in your arms if you don’t let go” he explained arrogantly, beginning to button up his dress shirt. 

“You can leave now Jackson” Jonathan exhaled, his nose twitched. 

“Oh come on, I won’t say goodbye to her that easily. I have to stay at least a couple of days, my flight isn’t until next week so no point in trying to get rid of me” Jackson laughed softly. 

He needed the next few days to ensure you remember whose feet you’ll always kneel before. The challenge would be fun. But Jackson couldn’t help but to bloom as the nostalgic sensation, he missed Jonathan. Not that he’d ever admit that. 

“How about I go get us all some takeaway and you two can get to know each other better in the meantime?” Jackson cocked an eyebrow. It was always a yes in his opinion if Jonathan remained silent. He picked up his jacket and waltzed towards the front entrance. “Still like Japanese!” Jackson called out before slamming the door shut. 

Your head popped up at the sound, you gulped, your mouth dry and reality weighing heavily on you. His soft blue eyes returned to their dark state. As your figure turned stiff, Jonathan smirked at the mellow fearful look in your eyes. 

“Fuck sweetheart, I just might need to call in sick for work tomorrow” he admitted.

He’d been perfectly attentive since the moment you’d been assigned to him. In fact, he’d gone as far as to develop every trait you said you looked for in a man on that pathetic little dating website you signed up for: Polite. The perfect amount of introverted. Drank only at social events, didn’t smoke, owned one cat, took interest in topics such as: feminism, fiction, pop music. To put it short: he’d worked hard to become the sentimental, pussy eating man of your dreams. 

You, on the other hand, weren’t nearly as generous. At first, he had chalked it up to your nerves. It had taken longer than usual to infiltrate the distrusting bubble you lived inside; charm and simple gestures of affection didn’t work half as well on you as they had on the others. You wanted time. He had liked it in the beginning. It felt like a brisk walk after running marathons. But then it became tedious. You had let him touch you over your bra on the fourth date, but he had to wait an entire month and a half before you’d actually shown him your cunt. 

But once you had let him inside, you really didn’t want him out of it. God, you what a whore you could be—which didn’t surprise him. The demure types typically were; he liked them best for precisely that reason. What did surprise him was the fact that you didn’t like to return the favor—not half as enthusiastically as he did it for you, anyway. The timid way you had wrapped your mouth around him those few times, while he’d sat rigidly, as not to frighten you, paled in comparison to what he did for you, day in, day out.  

No--he wouldn’t take it anymore. With his mouth still coated in your fresh slick, Jackson crawled up your body and pressed his lips hard on your mouth. He’d abandoned his usual politeness: rubbing it off on his shirt first because he’d even considered you might be too much of a prude to want to taste yourself. Now he thought you might need to be taught about the things you really did want; he didn’t think you knew. 

“I think it’s my turn,” he told you. His eyes flashed dangerously, daring you to protest. Your fingers grabbed onto the side of his billowy button up and confusion drew your eyebrows together. You masked it with a smile. “Hm?” you asked.

As if you hadn't heard him right. He wanted to wrap his hands around your pretty little neck. 

“Oh, please,” he chuckled. Jackson tried to keep calm as he spoke, to force his tone to be excruciatingly patient. He was so close with you, and he couldn't risk losing it all over this. He cupped your face in his palms. “I don’t have to spell it out for you, do I, baby? I mean…” He motioned down his cock, which had long ago begun to strain against his slacks. “Listen—I don’t mean to sound like I’m complaining here, but I’ve been on my knees a lot more than you’ve been on yours.” 

He sensed the shift inside of you--could see the way you were beginning to cower already. Any other night, he’d be placating, reassuring you that it was okay—that he could wait—but he couldn’t do that anymore. It wasn't good for you. You wouldn’t be the first person he had to talk into doing something he knew was good for them. Besides, he was sure you’d come to see it his way. You were smart when you weren’t under his thumb. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock because you want to make me happy, don’t you, baby?” he spoke again, voice even. He watched you try to read his face. The mask had begun to fall and what was left was unfamiliar to you. How worried you looked, his pet. “Don’t you?” he repeated with more insistence. 

“Yea,” you croaked. The word had been lodged in your throat. 

Jackson smirked. “On the ground, then” 

He directed you down as his belt slipped through the loops of his pants. You were better trained than he gave you credit for. Even with the hesitancy - or was it cold, hard fear forming? - in your eyes, you still did what he said. And my god, what a sight you were, kneeling at the side of the bed. 

With his palms pressed flat against the bed, Jackson leaned back on expectantly. “Take it out,” he guided. 

You hesitated. “Jack-”

His responding smile was terse as his eyes darkened. He was quickly finding out of the infinite pool of patience he thought he had for you did have its bottom. “Fine, I’ll start,” he said, tugging himself free.

You were about to work up the courage to tell him you couldn’t do it, as you had many times before; he could see it in your eyes. 

“I’m trying to be patient—“ He paused to stamp out the hardness that was forming in his voice. He knew it would do no good, frightening you. It would only make everything much messier than they needed to be. He continued on, conscious of every word. “—but this is just silly. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“But Jack-” you stuttered. You watched his jaw clench beneath the surface of his freckled skin. He looked a little frightening, his blue eyes all iced over as he stared down at you. 

He gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to look at him. While his hold on you wasn’t anything you couldn’t escape from, you were aware, for the first time, how strong Jackson could be. “It makes me feel good to make you feel good. Don’t you want to make me feel good?” he asked. 

“But I wasn’t any good at it before,” you protested.

“You didn’t try,” he insisted. “Try.” 

“Jackson, really—“

“Do it,” he spat. The last of the kindness had ebbed out of his voice. Forcing an encouraging smile back onto his lips, he said, much more lightly, “Please.” 

You wrapped one of your hands around the base of his cock, but hesitated still. Jackson let out an irritated sigh before you found the courage to bring your lips down around the head of his cock finally. 

Like before, it lacked a certain enthusiasm, but he wasn’t going to complain just yet. The hot, wet warmth of your mouth felt so good after having craved it for so long. All he could do to restrain himself was fist your white sheets in his hands, and watch you as did exactly as he had told you to do. Your eyes shifted up to look at him, always hungry for approval. Jackson tried to motivate you with a dazed smile. It was more genuine than he liked, given that you were hardly doing anything. 

He let your bop up and down, liking the way he was disappearing inside your mouth. There was beauty in the unskilled way you took him in—you were artless in your approach, eager to please. Innocent, in a way. You couldn’t take too much before you got nervous and came back up. He’d was certain he'd probably experienced better in high school, but he didn't care; he'd wanted it so badly from you. Already, he could feel the mounting arousal rising inside of him.  

He allowed one of his hands to sneak up your shoulder, resting at the place just where your neck began. His thumb moved over the soft exposed skin there, soothing you. His voice was low, just slightly above a husky whisper as he said, “You can do more, baby. I know you can.” 

Jackson moved his fingers up the side of your neck before he brushed his thumb delicately over your jaw. His lips parted in a soundless moan as you took more of him in than before. “That’s it,” he said, gasping, “Use your tongue—ah, fuck, yes.” His fingers twisted up in your hair, losing consideration. “Faster.” 

You were trying, he could tell, but he felt you had more in you than this. He’d seen how depraved you could get, after all. Just last week you’d let him fuck you into you the with no condom. The entire time you were begging for it, arching up and moaning while he pushed your face down into the bed. You liked being a whore. Week by week he’d been unraveling you, finding you out, bit by bit. 

He cradled your neck. For a moment, he saw the flash of awareness in your eyes—could see the obstinacy begin—but he held on tighter and said, “Remember when you sat on my face? When I let you do what you want to me?” 

With that, you let your resistance go. He wasn’t doing much more than you had been, after all, only guiding you down the wet line you had already created on his cock, only slightly faster. Still, your eyes kept darting up, nervous. 

He watched as a dribble of saliva escaped out of the side of your mouth and traveled down his cock. He knew then he couldn’t resist any longer. You felt so fucking good, so warm and wet, and he needed more. No, he deserved it. His other hand came up to your head and he pushed you down, making you take all of him. He hit the back of your throat with his cock. Surprisingly, all you did was gurgle.

Your nails pressed harshly into his thighs and you jerked back, slipping off of his cock with a crude pop sounding. Betrayal flashed in your eyes. He expected as much. 

Jackson ran his thumb along your glossy bottom lip. “I didn’t say you could stop,” he chided. 

“You…I just wasn’t expecting you to do that to me,” you stuttered. Startled tears had begun to gather in the corners of your eyes. “I’m not good at this, Jackson.”

He frowned, playing along with your little pitiful act. His tone became softer. “I didn’t do that because it felt bad. You’re were getting pretty fucking good, actually.” His cock jutted against his stomach, impatient as he felt. He stared blankly at you before adding, “I don’t really want to say please again, honey. You’re not gonna make me, hm?” 

Though it wasn’t necessarily a question, he appreciated the obedient nod you gave him. 

Taking his cock in his hand, he held it up for you to put back in your mouth. Your hands rested against the tops of his thighs and pride swelled in his chest as you took him back inside of your mouth. Your fingers pressed into his legs, but you didn’t jerk back as he guided you down again.

He wanted to cum in your mouth, to make you swallow it all down, because he knew you would. You’d do anything for him, probably. He only had to push you into it, sometimes, but wasn't that the way of relationships?

His orgasm was quickly building inside of him, only spurred on by the way you had begun to flick your tongue against the underside of his cock again. Jackson let go of your neck, grasping onto the sheets behind him once more. Tears began to slide down your cheeks. He wiped one away with his finger as you bobbed down on him.

Your nails dug deep into the skin of his thighs, but he didn’t mind; the stinging sensation only made what you were giving him all the better, mixing the lines between pleasure and pain in a way he knew you yourself would come to like eventually. 

You began to take him so deeply that you gagged around on his cock, but you didn’t stop. You were doing so much better than he anticipated now. He could feel the rise of his orgasm in his groin, could sense the way he was about to lose all control, but he said nothing. He didn't want you to know.

Jackson hissed and his cock twitched inside your mouth. Hot ropes of his cum spilled down your throat and he could see the surprise register in your glassy eyes as you looked up at him, but he didn’t care. He deserved this. He had been so patient. So good. “Fuck,” he moaned, his head lolling back as you took the last of his cum.

You rose quietly off of him after, wiping your mouth against your hand. Jackson liked knowing the way you looked—hair mussed, eyes watery, lips puffy and red—was because of him. It was so rare you weren’t in tiptop shape. 

“Was that good?” you asked weakly. Your voice was gravelly and he couldn’t help but smile, knowing how deep his cock had been inside of your throat just moments before; it was probably sore.

“Yeah," he nodded, smiling proudly. "I told you you could do it, didn’t I?” he beamed.