thinking about this again.. i'm literally cheesing like a bitch still 😢 ,, i did NOT think my writing was that good, i just bullshitted mostly because i was busy through the day but TRUST if i was locked in, it would've been more accurate!
SUMMARY: WHEN JACOB ACCEPTS THAT SPIKED DRINK, HE THINKS HE'S JUST SHARING A CASUAL NIGHT WITH FAMILY. HE DOESN'T REALIZE HE'S WALKING INTO A CAREFULLY ORCHESTRATED TRAP, OR THAT HIS TWIN COUSINS HAVE EVERY INTENTION OF USING HIS DRUGGED, HELPLESS BODY TO FULFILL THEIR DARKEST FANTASIES. BY THE TIME THE ROOM STOPS SPINNING, IT'S ALREADY TOO LATE TO SAY NO.
TAGS: DARKFIC, NONCON/RAPE, FAUXCEST, TWINCEST, NON-CONSENSUAL DRUG USE, DRUGGED SEX, TRANSMASC JACOB FATU, DOM!JEY USO, SUB!JIMMY USO, FETISHIZATION OF ANATOMY, DOUBLE PENETRATION, FORCED ORAL, GUILTY FEELINGS (FROM JIMMY), POWER IMBALANCE, COMING UNTOUCHED, PWP WITH PLOT. ETC.
WARNINGS: THIS FANFIC CONTAINS TABOO / INCESTUOUS AND GRAPHIC NON-CONSENSUAL SEXUAL CONTENT, MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS OUT THROUGHLY. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT.
how did this idea even manifest within jey's consciousness? jimmy possesses no understanding, yet god, is he unraveling.
his palms glide restless over his knees as jey speaks with such casualness, such unguarded openness, as though any of this were remotely appropriate.
jimmy had offered smiles and laughter at remarks shared between jacob and jey, yet each time jacob lifts the spiked drink to his lips: the one jey provided, jimmy nearly shudders.
jey presses a hand to his back, a silent urging to compose himself. to maintain composure. jimmy doubts his own capability, and jacob appears to have sensed this disturbance, for he fixes him with a concerned stare.
“y’ good, big jim?”
jimmy's throat constricts, guilt threading through his veins as he raises his gaze to meet his cousin's. “yeah, m’ aight. it’s just hot in ‘ere.”
a pathetic excuse, yet sufficient for jacob to hum and reach behind him for the fan, dialing it to maximum and angling it toward the pair.
“y’ always hot, jon,” jey teases, nudging his elder twin before drawing from his own glass.
“nah, ‘cause me too. i dunno what this shit is y’ gave me, jey, but fuck—it’s good.” jacob adds, then empties the remainder of the alcohol.
he will regret it. specifically, in fifteen minutes.
“‘s just moonshine, nuthin’ crazy, uce.” jey responds, unfolding his arms to retrieve the smoldering blunt from the ashtray centered on the modest table between them.
he brings the lit end to his lips, clamping it there to shed the jacket he wears. beneath, a black sleeveless top complements the blue-grey denim jeans quite well.
jey draws from the burning herb, pinching it between thumb and forefinger before executing a french inhale. mouth to nose. “jacob, y’ feeling anything?”
jimmy cuts his eyes toward his brother, mouth compressing to a thin line. a silent plea for his younger twin to hold his tongue.
“huh? uh, nah, don’ think so. why?”
“no reason,” he murmurs, passing the joint to his brother, who accepts it with eagerness. he requires calm, and this might provide it.
jey rises from his chair, patting his pockets in search of something. “huh. swore i brought it wit’ me.”
“what’s wrong, jey?”
“oh, nuthin’. just left m’phone in the kitchen.”
jimmy stands quickly once his drag is finished and the blunt returned to the ashtray. “i’ll get it, josh, don’ even worry ‘bout it!”
truly, jimmy proves foolish to abandon his twin alone with their cousin ‐ the very cousin they are actively drugging for the purpose of taking advantage of him.
worse still is the impression that jey pursues this only because jacob lacks the same anatomy that jey and jimmy possess.
jacob was born female, yet never identified as such. and so, here he exists. honestly, had jimmy not known jacob personally and were he not family, he would never have suspected. nor would he have assumed.
he moves from his seat, into the hallway, down the corridor, toward the kitchen. distracted, preoccupied with the rhythm of his own heartbeat. he feels it in his ears, and tenses considerably when a sudden thud reverberates from the other room.
his amber gaze sweeps the kitchen until locating the cellular device upon the dining table. he steps forward, seizes it, and pivots back toward the room containing jey and jacob.
as jimmy pushes through the door, he discovers jacob sprawled upon the floor, jey straddling him. jimmy appears startled initially, yet he is more disturbed than surprised at this stage.
jey had spoken of this moment incessantly prior to their arrival. about his desire to fuck jacob's cunt, to pin him down and claim him as he writhes and attempts to resist the pleasure.
the notion had conjured a sickening sensation in jimmy's stomach, laced with considerable twisted arousal.
the elder twin advances, observing his twin press the younger one down. his hand slides beneath jacob's shirt to reveal his chest, a thumb tracing the scars from top surgery. “relax, jacob.”
jacob can scarcely speak, limbs leaden. he attempts to lift a leg to dislodge jey but fails pathetically. he whimpers, possessing only enough strength to lower his head and watch jey shift to his knees to loosen the drawstring of jacob's trousers and ease them down gradually.
“josh, can’t we lay him somewhere more comfortable?”
“in’a second, uce. m’ tryna see him. y’ gon’a help me or not? he’s a fighter, for real.”
jimmy swallows with difficulty, edging closer to settle upon his knees before them. his hand brushes past jey's. “y’ gotta be gentle with him, man.”
jey's gaze flicks upward, meeting his twin's with something between irritation and amusement. “gentle? look at him, jimmy. he’s already halfway gone.”
he tugs jacob's trousers lower, revealing the dark cotton beneath. jacob's hips buck weakly, a protest that carries no weight, his words slurring into something unintelligible. the laced moonshine has done its work: his coordination has fled, leaving him pliant in ways that make jimmy's mouth dry.
“just–” jimmy starts, then stops. his hand hovers over jacob's ankle, fingers trembling. “just don’ hurt him, yeah?”
“when have i ever hurt anyone?” jey asks, but the question hangs rhetorical, heavy with implication.
he slides jacob's trousers down past his knees, leaving them bunched there while he runs his palm up the inside of jacob's thigh. “he’s beautiful, ain’t he? all this fight in him still.”
jacob turns his face away, cheek pressing against the carpet. his breathing has gone shallow, chest rising and falling beneath the loose fabric of his shirt. fresh air sending chills across exposed skin that prickles with gooseflesh.
“help me get his shirt off,” jey commands, not requests.
jimmy hesitates, then obeys. he shuffles forward on his knees, fingers finding the hem of jacob's shirt. his knuckles brush jacob's stomach, feeling the subtle tremor there, the way his abdominal muscles tense beneath the touch. together, they work the fabric upward, jey lifting jacob's shoulders while jimmy pulls.
pectorals come into eyesight first, then the scars beneath - still pink in places, healed but present. jey traces them again with reverence that might be mistaken for tenderness if not for the circumstances. “did good,” he murmurs, though whether he speaks to jacob or himself remains unclear.
“should we–?” jimmy gestures vaguely toward the bedroom, the hallway, anywhere but the open living room where jacob lies vulnerable on the floor.
“he’s fine here,” jey says. “i want him here. want him to remember every bit of it when he tries to sleep later.”
the words send something cold through jimmy's gut, yet his arousal persists, treacherous and undeniable. he watches as jey hooks his fingers into the waistband of jacob's underwear, pulling down slowly, slowly, revealing what jacob has tried so hard to distance himself from.
“stop,” jacob manages, the word thick and clumsy on his tongue. “jey, don’–”
“shh,” jey soothes, pressing his free hand against jacob's sternum, holding him steady. “just let me look, uce. been thinking ‘bout this since you started transitioning. wondering what you kept. what you didn’t.”
jimmy looks away, then forces his gaze back. complicity requires witness. he cannot claim innocence while kneeling here, while his own arousal strains against his jeans. “he’s gonna hate us,” he whispers.
“he’s gonna thank us,” jey corrects, finally freeing jacob's hips from the last of his clothing. “eventually.”
jacob's eyes have gone glassy, tears gathering at the corners without falling. his hands twitch at his sides, fingers grasping at nothing. when jey spreads his knees wider, lowering himself to press clothed pelvis against jacob's exposed flesh, jimmy can see the exact moment jacob realizes he cannot escape—the way his jaw goes slack, the flutter of his pulse visible in his throat.
“touch him,” jey instructs, guiding jimmy's hand to jacob's hip. “feel how warm he is.”
the skin burns beneath jimmy's palm. he should remove his hand. he should stand, should walk away, should call someone. instead, he spreads his fingers wider, anchoring jacob in place while jey begins to unbuckle his own belt.
“that’s it,” jey praises, seeing jimmy's compliance. “that’s my good twin. we share everything, don’t we? always have.”
jimmy swallows hard, nodding despite himself. the room spins slightly, the aftermath of the blunt mixing with adrenaline and guilt and desire in his bloodstream. “yeah,” he breathes. “yeah, everything.”
jacob whimpers again, a sound that breaks something in jimmy's chest even as it fuels the fire lower in his gut. jey positions himself, one hand bracing against the floor beside jacob's head, the other guiding himself into place.
“look at me, jacob,” jey demands. “eyes up here. wanna see your face when i take this cunt.”
jacob's head lolls, but his eyes find jey's. wide, terrified, betrayed. jimmy watches the recognition there, the understanding that this is not a nightmare he will wake from, that his cousins have become something monstrous and he has become their prey.
“please,” jacob whispers.
“yeah,” jey agrees, beginning to push forward. “beg me.”
jimmy's grip tightens on jacob's hip, holding him open, holding him down, complicit in the claiming. cooling sweat on skin that grows hotter by the second.
jimmy tells himself he will apologize later. he tells himself jacob will forgive them. he tells himself whatever he must to keep his hand steady and his eyes open while his twin begins to move.
jey's rhythm stutters, then slows. he looks down at jacob, at the way his body yields and resists simultaneously, then cuts his gaze toward jimmy. something calculating moves behind his eyes, a decision forming that jimmy recognizes with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
“nah,” jey breathes, withdrawing partially. “nah, we can do better’n this.”
he shifts his weight, sliding his arms beneath jacob's shoulders and hauling him upward. jacob's head falls back, neck exposed, a sound of confusion escaping his slack mouth. jey maneuvers him like cargo, arranging him until he's half-sitting, half-reclined against jey's chest, legs splayed open and vulnerable.
“what are y–” jimmy starts.
“come here,” jey interrupts, voice gone rough with exertion and intent. “get in front. same hole, uce. both of us.”
jimmy's breath catches. he stares at the space between jacob's thighs, at where jey still breaches him, and understanding arrives with force that makes him dizzy. “josh, i dunno if he can—”
“he can,” jey insists, adjusting his grip to hook his hands beneath jacob's knees, lifting and spreading him wider. the position opens jacob completely, exposes him in ways that make jimmy's mouth go dry. “hold him up. i got his back.”
jacob's eyes flutter open, awareness piercing through the drugged haze. “wha.. what’re you..?”
“hold on,” jey murmurs against his ear, rocking his hips to remind jacob of his presence, of his invasion. “gonna make you feel full, uce. gonna make you feel us both.”
jimmy moves forward on his knees, positioning himself between jacob's legs. up close, he can see the stretch of jacob's flesh around jey, the way his body struggles to accommodate even one of them. the thought of adding his own – of pressing in alongside his twin, sends a shudder through him that he cannot suppress.
“y’re fuckin’ soaked,” jimmy whispers, more to himself than anyone. he spits into his palm, working himself with quick, desperate strokes, then adds more saliva to jacob, to jey, to the junction where they connect.
“that's it,” jey encourages, watching his brother prepare. “slow now. press against me. feel where i am.”
jimmy aligns himself, the head of his cock bumping against jey's shaft where they both meet jacob's entrance. the contact makes him gasp: hot, intimate, wrong in ways that only heighten the sensation. he pushes forward, feeling resistance, feeling jacob's body tighten in protest.
“relax him,” jey commands, his arms tightening around jacob's chest, pinning him in place. “talk to him, jon. get him to open up.”
“relax,” jimmy repeats, the word sounding hollow even to him. he pushes again, persistent, feeling the initial give as jacob's body surrenders to the inevitable. “c'mon, baby. you can take it. both of us."
jacob's cry is sharp, cut short by jey's hand clamping over his mouth. his body arches, spine pressing against jey's sternum, but there's nowhere to go. jimmy watches his face - the way his eyes go wide, pupils blown, tears finally spilling over to track down his cheeks.
“there,” jey grunts, feeling jimmy slide in alongside him, the thin membrane separating them barely there, sensation doubled and mirrored. “fuck.. feel that? feel him?”
jimmy can only nod, overwhelmed by the tightness, the heat, the obscene intimacy of sharing this space with his twin. they are pressed together, cock against cock, separated only by the fragile walls of jacob's body.
“move,” jey instructs, setting the pace with shallow thrusts that jimmy matches instinctively. they find a rhythm - jey withdrawing as jimmy pushes in, then reversing, a seesaw of invasion that keeps jacob constantly filled, constantly stretched beyond what he was made to take.
jacob's hands find jey's forearms, gripping with desperate strength, nails digging crescents into skin. his whimpers have become continuous, a soundtrack to their coordinated claiming. the fan still blows cool air across them, but none of them feel it anymore; only heat, only friction, only the terrible closeness of three bodies fused into one motion.
“look at you,” jey pants, his chin digging into jacob's shoulder. “look at him, jon. taking us both. taking all of it.”
jimmy looks. he sees jacob's face: flushed, wrecked, unrecognizable from the confident young man who had laughed at their jokes an hour ago. he sees the way jacob's chest heaves, the way his stomach muscles flutter with each dual thrust.
“m’ finna cum,” jimmy warns, the pressure building too fast, too intense.
“hold off,” jey demands, his own hips stuttering, losing their rhythm. “wait for me. together.”
they synchronize, twin bodies moving as one, twin cocks buried to the root in their cousin's surrendered flesh. when jey finally lets go, jimmy follows, pouring himself into the same space, filling jacob with the evidence of their shared betrayal.
jacob goes limp between them, consciousness fleeing from the overwhelming sensation, the fullness, the violation. jey and jimmy hold him up—together—while they spend themselves inside him, while they mark him as theirs in the most permanent way they know how.
the aftermath settles like dust: heavy, suffocating, inevitable. jey and jimmy remain locked together, still sheathed in jacob's trembling body, their breathing ragged and synchronized. jacob hangs between them, consciousness flickering like a faulty bulb, tears drying sticky on his cheeks.
“back,” jey murmurs, his voice rough from exertion. “gotta shift him.”
they withdraw in tandem, a slow extraction that draws a weak, broken sound from jacob's throat. the loss leaves him empty, dripping, utterly undone. jey eases him down onto the carpet with surprising gentleness, arranging his limbs as though handling something precious and broken.
jimmy stares at the mess they've made. at jacob's thighs, trembling and parted, at the evidence of their claiming seeping onto the floor beneath him. the sight should revolt him. instead, he feels the stirrings of renewed arousal, insatiable and hungry.
“he’s out of it,” jimmy observes, his voice barely above a whisper.
“mm-mm,” jey counters, tapping jacob's cheek with two fingers. “he’s still with us. ain’t ya, uce?”
jacob's eyes flutter, struggling to focus. his mouth works silently, forming words that won't quite emerge. he tries to close his legs, but his muscles betray him, leaving him exposed and open.
“see?” jey says, satisfied. “still here. still feeling everything.”
he stands, unsteady at first, then finds his balance. his jeans hang open, shirt clinging to sweat-slicked skin. he looks down at jacob sprawled before him. ruined, vulnerable, theirs. making a decision.
“flip him,” jey instructs, nudging jacob's hip with his foot. “wanna see that mouth work.”
jimmy hesitates, but only for a moment. he reaches for jacob, hands sliding beneath his shoulders and hips, maneuvering him onto his back. jacob's head lolls, eyes rolling toward the ceiling, chest hitching with suppressed sobs.
understanding dawns slowly, filtered through the haze of lingering intoxication. jimmy adjusts his grip, rolling jacob onto his belly, then pulling him up until he's on his knees, forehead pressed against the carpet, arms folded beneath his chest.
the position raises his hips, presents him completely, the aftermath of their previous use visible and obscene.
“perfect,” jey snickers.
he crawls forward on his knees, positioning himself before jacob's upturned face. he threads his fingers through jacob's dreads. not roughly, but with firm intention, tilting his head back until their eyes meet.
“you know what to do,” jey says softly, almost tenderly. “open up. show me you’re sorry for fighting so hard.”
jacob's lips part, whether in protest or submission even he cannot discern. jey takes advantage of the opening, guiding himself forward, pressing the head of his cock against jacob's slack mouth. the taste: salt and bitterness and their mingled spend, it coats jacob's tongue, making him gag weakly.
“take it,” jey urges, applying steady pressure. “all of it. clean me up.”
behind them, jimmy stares at the sight of jacob's parted thighs, at the glistening mess they've left there. substance has rendered jacob pliant, but his body still reacts instinctively, muscles clenching and releasing in small, helpless spasms.
“while i do this,” jey continues, his voice strained as he pushes deeper into jacob's throat, “y’re gon’ eat him out. get down there and taste what we did. taste us in him.”
jimmy's stomach flips, arousal and shame warring for dominance. he shuffles forward on his knees, positioning himself behind jacob's raised hips. up close, the scent is overwhelming: sex and sweat and the sharp metallic tang of completion.
“go ahead,” jey urges, his hips beginning to move in shallow thrusts, fucking jacob's mouth with deliberate slowness. “make him feel good while i use his throat. make him want it.”
jimmy lowers himself, hands spreading jacob's cheeks wider, exposing him completely. he can see where they stretched him, where they filled him, the evidence of their claiming still wet and warm. the sight should be repulsive. instead, he finds himself leaning forward, tongue extending to trace the swollen, sensitive flesh.
jacob jerks at the contact, a muffled cry vibrating around jey's intrusion. jey groans at the sensation, his fingers tightening in jacob's hair, holding him steady.
“that’s it,” jey encourages, looking down to meet jimmy's gaze over the curve of jacob's spine. “get in there.”
jimmy obeys, pressing his face closer, tongue delving into the mess they've made. he can taste himself, tangy and familiar. beneath that, the distinct flavor of his twin, mixed with the raw, intimate taste of jacob's body. he licks broad stripes over labia, cleaning their spend from his heated skin, feeling the flutter of muscles still recovering from their double invasion.
jacob whimpers around jey's cock, the vibration traveling through him, making his hips buck backward onto jimmy's mouth. jimmy takes it as invitation, doubling his efforts, tongue pressing inside, seeking deeper access, wanting to consume the evidence of their sin.
“he likes it,” jey observes, his rhythm faltering as pleasure builds anew. “look at him, pushing back on your face. little slut’s getting off on this.”
jimmy pulls back slightly to observe. jacob's hips are indeed moving in small, involuntary circles, seeking friction, seeking more. the betrayal of his own body humiliates him further, tears leaking steadily onto the carpet beneath his cheek.
“keep goin’,” jey pants, his thrusts becoming erratic, losing their careful rhythm. “make him cum while i’m down his throat. wanna feel him scream around me.”
jimmy returns to his task with renewed fervor, tongue circling jacob's sensitive folds, dipping inside, then sliding forward to press against the swollen nub of flesh above. jacob jolts at the contact, a strangled cry escaping around the intrusion filling his mouth.
“found something?” jey asks, smirking despite his own breathlessness. “keep at it, j. make him fall apart.”
jimmy focuses on that spot, licking and sucking with desperate intensity, his own arousal throbbing neglected against his thigh. he can feel jacob's body responding, muscles tensing, breath hitching in desperate gasps around jey's cock.
“gon’a cum again,” jey warns, his hips snapping forward, burying himself deep in jacob's throat. “swallow it, bitch. take it all.”
jacob gags, choking, but jey holds him firm, spilling down his throat in thick pulses that jacob has no choice but to accept. the sensation: the violation, the completion, the tongue working relentlessly between his legs ‐ pushes jacob over the edge. he convulses, his own release hitting the carpet beneath him in weak spurts, his scream of pleasure-pain muffled and swallowed by jey's flesh.
jimmy feels the clench of jacob's muscles around his tongue, tastes the fresh wave of arousal that accompanies his cousin's climax. he doesn't stop, lapping through jacob's orgasm, prolonging the sensation until jacob is sobbing openly, overstimulated and raw.
jey withdraws slowly, his cock still half-hard, glistening in the dim light. he releases his grip on jacob's hair, allowing his head to fall forward, forehead thumping against the floor. jacob gasps for air, coughing, spit and spend trailing from his swollen lips.
“good boy,” jey murmurs, stroking jacob's hair with something resembling affection. “took it so well.”
jimmy finally pulls back, his face flushed and wet, lips swollen from his ministrations. he looks at what they've done. jacob collapsed on his knees, shaking, marked and used in every possible way; and feels a complex surge of possession, guilt, and dark satisfaction.
“he’s a wreck..”
“yeah,” jey agrees, settling back on his heels, admiring their handiwork. “he is.”
he reaches out, running a hand down jacob's spine, feeling the tremors that rack his body. “but we ain’t done yet, uce. not even close.”
if you made it to the end, congratulations! i did not expect myself to write this, but here it is and yes i did.. sure, it's extreme, but i guess that's just what happens when you're an insomniac!
hope you enjoyed, if you ever have any suggestions and / or dynamics that you want me to write, you are so absolutely welcome to dump those ideas into my inbox!
i hope you guys aren’t tired of me talking about bottom jimmy uso.. a little whiny, a little bitchy, SUCH a sob when drunk; which makes him easy as fuck to take advantage of
i'm sick, i just sat here for a good 2 hours writing a jey/jacob/jimmy fic of the uso twins raping their cousin's manpussy. it was mainly jey's idea btw.
might rewrite some parts but it will be published on here very soon :)
i'ma be so honest. i'm thinking about nia jax / carmelo hayes. something about them screams to me that carmelo would do her in so good despite nia being double his size in height.
unfortunately they have never interacted EVER so i'm just delusional.
