Summary | Your boyfriend of almost nine months finally reveals something to you.
Warnings | Consensual to NON CON, smut, forced breeding, baby trapping, scars, praise, forced orgasm, crying, blackmail?, past rape, lots of talk about rape, like a lot.
Words | 1.4 k
Notes | Pretend I posted this a week before Halloween like it says in the fic lol.
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Kinktober | day 19: forced orgasm
Also idk this gif just reminded me of this part “he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in.”
“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.
“You’re gonna love it.” He smiled, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “I promise.”
KINKTOBER DAY 31 - DOUBLE PENETRATION WITH JONATHAN CRANE AND JACKSON RIPPNER
Pairing.| Jonathan Crane x fem!reader x Jackson Rippner
Summary.| In college, the twin brothers shared everything and everyone. Until Jackson took it too far and drove Jonathan away. Years later, Jackson shows up with an apology gift, and what's a better gift than you?
Warnings.| Noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, head both receiving, p in v, anal, fighting for dominance, double penetration, slight cockblocking, innocent kink, kidnapping, probable Stockholm syndrome, threesome, idk they're twins is that considered incest, rough sex.
Word count.| 7.3k
Notes.| And the finaleeeeeeeeee is here. This is literally porn with plot, but oh well, its the last day so I needed go wrap this up with a bang.
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.
“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.
summary | sick of waiting for you to return his endless favors, jackson finally says please--at least, in the nicest way he knows how.
rating | (explicit)
tags/warnings | explicit content, dubcon, noncon, coercion, oral sex (male receiving), slut shaming, jackson's crazy inner dialogue, toxic dynamics, slight innocence kink
word count | 2.1k+
a/n | if you seen me post this once before, no you didn't. i had a few problems with the original version that i needed to tweak before i could be really happy with it. also, this the first entry in cillian's beatles birthday bash series! which you can check out here: x. the first song i picked is please please me from the beatles' 1963 album of the same name.
This wouldn’t do anymore, Jackson had decided. He hated to be the bad guy - especially to you, such a darling little pawn in the grand scheme of things - but it wasn’t his fault you were so goddamned selfish.
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.
The hollow look in your eyes as you nodded and smiled back at him only added to his heady elation. He leaned forward and kissed you on the lips once more. He could practically feel the way you molded in his hand now. “Mm,” he hummed, “that’s my good girl. Practice makes perfect.”
The night was humid, restless, carrying the stink of the city all the way up to the rooftop. Neon bled into the sky below them, blaring car horns and sirens faint and far away, as if the world itself had slipped out of reach. The wind tugged violently at her hair, ripped her sobs away into the dark.
She had run. Hard. An hour of twisting alleys, darting down stairwells, slamming through doors. Her lungs had been on fire. He had let her run because he liked it. Because he liked watching her think she could escape him. Jackson had always been like that: letting the prey believe they had a chance before cutting it away from them in one clean stroke.
And now here she was.. half-dangling over the edge of a skyscraper, her spine bent backwards into empty air, the world hundreds of feet beneath her heels. Only his arms around her waist, only his grip in her hair, kept her alive.
Jackson stood braced against the rooftop railing, rutting into her with that feral rhythm, hips snapping forward so hard she jolted each time, balance teetering over the abyss. His cock shoved inside with unrelenting force, stretching her raw, his grunts jagged against her ear. He hadn’t even bothered to pace himself. There was no tenderness, no steady build. Just teeth-bared, furious thrusts, the rhythm of a man drunk on the kill.
The knife lay abandoned several feet away, glinting faintly in the dark. He didn’t need it anymore. He had her exactly where he wanted her.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, her thighs trembling and spread wide around his hips, clinging to him because there was nothing else to hold on to. Every thrust sent shockwaves of panic through her chest and not just from the way he split her open, but because each motion made the possibility of falling terrifyingly real. One slip, one mistake, and she’d be a smear on the pavement below.
Jackson liked that. She could feel it in the way he shuddered against her, every ragged breath heavy with excitement.
“Fuck…” His voice broke low and hot into her ear, and she could hear the smirk even without seeing it. “Better hope I finish before my grip slips.”
She sobbed into his neck, trembling, too far gone to spit venom at him anymore. Her defiance had burned out like a match in the wind, leaving only ragged whimpers and the desperate clutch of her arms around his neck.
“Do you want me to pull out?” His whisper was mockery itself. His mouth curved against her ear, teeth grazing her lobe as his hips slowed, pulling back until just the head of his cock pressed inside her, the rest of her cunt suddenly empty and aching.
And then he leaned back just slightly, his arms loosened. Enough for the illusion to become unbearable.
Her body lurched with blind terror, her feet slipping on the rooftop surface. “No! Please, Jackson, no!” she screamed, clinging to him like a child, arms and legs wrapping around him with feral strength. The motion shoved him deep inside her again, his cock ramming all the way in with brutal force, making her choke out a broken cry.
Jackson groaned, his laugh shaking against her ear. “That’s my girl.”
Now there was no slowing him. His rhythm turned relentless, hammering her against him with every sharp snap of his hips. His grip on her waist was bruising, keeping her suspended over nothing while he pistoned inside her. She could feel how much he loved it—how worked up he was, how close to the edge. The sound of his ragged breathing, the heat of his chest pressed to hers, the tremor in his thighs as he drove harder and harder.
“So you want me to come inside, sweetheart?” His voice was sing-song, cruel, like she’d asked him to take out the trash instead of decide her fate. “Alright then.”
His thrusts shifted, angling deep, bullying the tip of his cock against her cervix over and over until she cried out, writhing against the pain-sharp pleasure. The city howled around them, wind cutting her tears from her cheeks as he slammed inside, faster, deeper, his groans spilling freely now.
She clung tighter, whispering desperate pleas against his skin—“please, please, please”—though whether she was begging him to stop, to save her, or to fuck her harder, she couldn’t even tell anymore.
And then he came.
With a broken, guttural groan, Jackson drove all the way inside and held her there, his cock pulsing as he filled her up. She could feel it flood hot and thick, wave after wave, the force of it making her cry out again. His thighs quaked with the intensity of it, every muscle taut as he buried his face against her shoulder.
She held onto him like he was life itself.
And only after, when her body went limp, her sobs gone hoarse, when she sagged against him in total surrender... did Jackson laugh. A wild, breathless bark of satisfaction, his grin splitting wide in the dark.
The sound echoed across the rooftop, drowning out everything else.
Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Possessiveness, Pain Kink, Smut: P in V, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Orgasm Denial, Masturbation, Fingering
Author’s Note: Hiya! As I’ve mentioned, I’m incredibly busy at the moment, but I couldn’t let you starve either. Please accept this small oneshot as a snack for y’all :)
Jackson had been gone for almost an entire month now. Being the wife of a professional assassin wasn’t always as appealing as it sounded. Y/N loved him dearly, and she’d been anxiously waiting for his return. She was ecstatic when he called her to say he was coming home. Watching a movie to distract herself from the nerves coursing through her body, she missed the sound of the front door opening.
Jackson entered the house, his gaze searching for her. He silently made his way over to the living room, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. There was a moment where he simply watched her, taking in the sight of her.
“Hey, doll.” he said suddenly, making his presence known.
Y/N nearly jumped at the unexpected voice behind her, but the moment she turned her head and met his gaze, she smiled. Not wasting a second, she leapt off the couch and ran into his arms.
“Babe! You’re back!”
He chuckled, easily catching her in his embrace. He took a moment to inhale her familiar smell, that smell he’d missed for too long. Pulling back slightly, his gaze swept over her, taking in every inch of his gorgeous wife.
“You turn more beautiful every time I look at you…” he murmured softly, his hand sliding behind her neck and pulling her into a deep kiss.
She chuckled softly at his compliment, a broad smile spreading on her lips. She reciprocated the kiss instantly, her eyes closing at his taste.
“Did you miss me?” he whispered against her lips, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from her anyway.
“Of course I did. I was worried…” she admitted, her eyes quickly flickering across his face, “Are you okay? No pain? No injuries?”
He grunted softly, brushing off the concern in her voice. There was no point in admitting how many close calls he experienced on the job.
“I'm fine, doll. Don't worry about me.” he replied, his fingers lightly stroking her skin.
“I always worry about you…” she answered with a soft smirk, her hand raising to cup his cheek.
He let out a low hum, leaning his face into her touch for a brief moment before withdrawing and placing a firm hand on her hip, delivering a rough, nearly commanding squeeze.
“And I said don’t. You know what happens when you don’t listen, right doll?” he questioned, using his hold on her hip to steer her towards the bedroom.
She grinned, allowing him to drag her along. Once they reached the bedroom, she sank onto the bed, lying on her back and gazing up at him.
“I’ve missed you.”
Jackson admired the sight before him, his eyes scanning her body. He grunted softly, a possessive spark evident in his gaze. “Is that so?” he muttered as he crawled onto the bed, his body hovering over hers, one knee strategically placed between her legs.
Y/N bit her lower lip, a soft gasp escaping her lips as he ground his knee between her legs. “Mhm…”
He smirked at her gasp, his knee gradually grinding against her, observing the shift in her expression as he kept her pinned beneath him. His hands moved up, gently grasping her wrists and lifting them above her head, effectively trapping her beneath him.
“Missed me this much, huh?” he asked in a low voice, a trace of dark amusement in his tone.
She tilted her head back and nodded slowly, “Fuck…yes…”
His grip on her wrists tightened slightly, a smirk spreading across his lips at her answer. He leaned closer, their faces mere inches apart while his knee continued to press between her legs.
“Good. That's what I like to hear…” he responded quietly, his voice rough as he began to trail his lips down her neck, teasing her pulse point with gentle nips.
Her hips began to grind against his knee, desperately seeking the friction she craved. “Yes, please…I’m starving…”
He laughed at how desperate she was, how needy, and he loved it. “Starving? Poor little thing.” he taunted, his smirk growing as he observed her squirm beneath him. “You’re so hungry for me, aren't you, doll?”
She nodded rapidly, her hands clenching around the bedsheets. “Yes, yes…” she almost whimpered.
He emitted a low groan, his grip on her wrists tightening slightly, his gaze burning into her.
“Say it. Tell me what you want.” he growled, grinding his knee against her one final time before stopping completely, allowing the friction to tease rather than satisfy.
Y/N met his piercing gaze through half-lidded eyes, “I want you to fuck me, babe.” she replied with a pleading tone.
He released a sharp breath through his nose, his smirk taking on a nearly predatory quality as he finally let go of her wrists, his hands swiftly moving to grasp the waistband of her pants.
“Say please.” he insisted, pulling them down just enough to reveal her aching pussy before pausing once more.
“Please…” she whispered, a desperate look in her eyes. A wicked grin slowly spread across his lips, and before she realised it, he had turned her onto her stomach.
He chuckled, his hands roaming over her body before settling on her hips, his fingers digging into her skin. He leaned down, his breath warm against the back of her neck.
“That's what I like to hear, doll. You know your place, don't you?”
Nodding quickly, her ears picked up on the sound of his belt being hastily unbuckled, followed by a sharp sting of pain as he struck the smooth skin of her ass with it.
“Yes! Yes!” she cried out, her hands gripping the sheets tightly.
Jackson’s hand reached down, grasping the base of his cock as he lined himself up against her. “Good.” he murmured before gradually stretching her wet cunt open.
She released a loud moan at the sensation, her back arching and her face buried into the sheets. “Oh fuck, Jackson…”
He groaned at the sound of his name on her lips, his hands clutching her hips even firmer, his face nestled in the curve of her neck.
“Don't do that. You'll make me lose control.” he breathed, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin on her neck. His words served as a warning, a reminder of the thin line he was treading and how close he was to crossing it.
However, Y/N was overwhelmed with pleasure and anticipation, her thoughts muddled. The words blurted out before she could stop them, and she regretted saying it immediately after, “I want you to.”
His body froze, his hand sliding from her hip to her chin, turning her head to the side for a better view. A dangerous glint shone in his eyes as his jaw tightened, his expression stern and cold.
“Are you sure?” he asked in a low voice, his grip on her chin bordering on painful.
She swallowed hard, suddenly at a loss for words. Her expression shifted, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.
“I-“ she began, but Jackson would not wait for confirmation. It was too late, and he was already too far gone to allow her to retract those words.
His hand on her chin quickly moved to grasp her hair, yanking her head back causing her to wince. A gasp left her lips, followed by moans as he started thrusting into her with force and speed.
He groaned loudly, his grip on her hair tightening as he moved, his thrusts hard and punishing. He was too far gone now to care about anything other than taking what he desired from her.
"Fuck, you asked for this." he remarked, panting against the back of her neck.
Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, her hand tearing at the sheets below. His thrusts were deep and forceful, pain mingling with pleasure. Her body clenched around him, small gasps and whimpers spilling from her lips. It only made his movements more aggressive, possessive.
“You're mine,” he growled into the shell of her ear as he thrust deeper, his grip on her becoming bruising. “All fucking mine.”
She felt as though she couldn’t breathe, her toes curling and her vision fading to white. Just as she was about to reach her climax, he pulled out, causing her to whine in protest.
“Babe!”
He chuckled softly at her complaint, his hand running over her trembling legs. “I’ll give you what you want when I’m ready. Understood?” he said, his own voice strained with need.
She nodded slowly, allowing him to turn her onto her back again. He leaned back slightly, taking his time to appreciate the sight of her laid out before him. Her chest was heaving, her legs quivering, her face flushed.
“Touch yourself. But don’t come until I say so.” he ordered, a silent warning in his tone.
Y/N locked eyes with him, taking her lower lip between her teeth as her fingers trailed down her stomach towards her eager pussy. She slid her fingers between the folds, coating them in her own juices.
His gaze intensified as he watched her fingers move, his breathing becoming more labored as he struggled to maintain control. He was unable to divert his attention from her, completely entranced by the sight before him.
“Fuck, that’s beautiful…” he muttered, his eyes fixed on her fingers as they worked between her legs.
She used the palm of her hand to rub her clit while inserting a finger inside, curling it gently. A soft sigh escaped her lips, Jackson’s gaze heightening her arousal.
He let out a sharp breath, his jaw clenching as he continued to watch her. His hand moved to grasp his erection, stroking in rhythm with the motion of her fingers.
“Slow down.” he commanded, not wanting her to reach climax just yet, not until he allowed it.
Y/N swallowed hard, nodding as she slowed her movements, her breathing growing heavier with each passing second. “Please babe…I need to-…fuck…”
He smirked at her pleading tone, his grip on himself tightening slightly as he observed her struggle to maintain a slow pace. “Please what?” he asked quietly, his eyes burning into hers, waiting for the right words.
She moaned softly, her fingers instinctively starting to move faster.
“Please, I need to come, I need to come…”
Noticing the way her fingers moved at a quickened pace, Jackson realised he had to intervene. He reached out, seizing her wrist and pinning it above her head once more, effectively halting all movement.
“I told you not to come until I said so. Can you not follow simple instructions?” he scolded, his hold on her unwavering despite her protests.
She looked up at him, searching his eyes, her own reflecting the desperation surging through her. “God, please. I can’t take much more…” she whispered.
He sighed, his grip on her wrist tightening as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against her nose. “You can take whatever I give you.” he muttered before reaching down with one hand and pressing two fingers into her himself, curling them just right to push her over the edge. “Now come for me.”
A loud moan left Y/N’s lips at the intense sensation, her eyes fluttering shut while her back arched high in the air. “Oh fuck! Yes!”
Her hips ground into his hand as waves of ecstasy enveloped her body, gasps and moans echoing throughout the room.
He examined her with a satisfied smirk, his fingers continuing their motion as he dragged out her orgasm, observing how her body clenched and spasmed around him.
“That's it, doll. Let me hear you.” he commanded before finally slowing his movements. Pulling his fingers out, he raised them to her lips.
“Open.”
Gradually, Y/N opened her mouth, sucking his fingers clean, her own juices coating her tongue.
He watched closely, his eyes half-lidded and filled with lust and possessiveness.
“That’s it...” he murmured, withdrawing his fingers from her mouth before leaning back. “Get on your hands and knees.”
She nodded immediately, positioning herself as instructed. Once she was in place, she suddenly felt his strong hand grasp the back of her neck and push her head down. Not a second later, his cock began to pound into her cunt again, harder and faster than before.
He groaned rougly as he thrust into her, his hand around her neck holding her in position. He was rough, possessive, with movements that were both sharp and punishing.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” he growled, using his hold on her to impale her body onto his.
She gasped and moaned, caught in a whirlwind of pleasure, pain, and shock. The angle allowed the tip of his cock to strike her sweet spot over and over again, pushing her towards another orgasm.
“You close?” he breathed, his voice strained with desire as he continued to pound into her at a relentless pace.
The bed shook violently with his powerful thrusts, the backs of her thighs and ass reddening and burning, the pain escalating with each thrust. Yet, she found herself not wanting it to end, ever.
His thrusts never slowed as he sensed her walls clench around him, pushing closer and closer to bliss. His hold on her tightened further, leaving bruises on her smooth skin.
Y/N couldn’t endure it any longer, and before she fully comprehended it, her orgasm flooded her senses, her body tensing and clenching around him. A deep groan tore from her throat, her nails ripping through the sheets.
Feeling her climax around him caused his thrusts to become even more intense, as he pursued his own release.
“Fuck! That's it!” he gasped before finally spilling inside of her with a sharp exhale. “Take it all.”
Her toes curled at the sensation of his warm essence filling her core, her eyes nearly rolling back into her head.
“Oh god, babe…”
He exhaled roughly, his hips continuing to move slowly into her as he released the last of himself inside. When he finally pulled out, he observed as his seed trickled down her folds. He couldn’t think of a more beautiful sight.
“You’re mine, doll. Never forget that.”
Y/N allowed herself to collapse onto her side, still panting and experiencing the aftershocks of her climax. She could already feel the pain mounting, aware that she would be sore for at least a few days. And yet, she absolutely adored that idea.
(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth
once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!
Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.
The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately. No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it. And believe it or not, he wanted more than that. Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone. He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night. Either, or both, would do.
It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you. He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job. It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels. The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security. This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.
But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window. His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…
He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation. But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.
Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.
~
The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you. He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with. Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.
For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you. It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction. Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong. This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been. His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike. God, did he really have a crush? How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.
"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.
"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said. He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.
"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.
"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.
"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"
Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."
He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive. "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.
"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”
As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.
“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."
"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer. Like fish in a barrel. "How old is it?"
"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.
"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again. "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious. Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."
You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about. He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.
“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson. It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”
You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him. “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”
“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”
“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained. “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”
Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying. And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still. A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do. And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people. You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again. He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it. No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all. Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.
And he also found that annoyingly attractive. Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.
….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!
“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied.
“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.
“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around. Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”
“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own. I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”
“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled. “For me it’s probably cocktails. I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”
“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”
“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.
Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess. Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected. All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.
“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”
You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.
“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.
For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh. “You were on the right track,” you admitted.
“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration. After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”
“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.
“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself. Your drink order, I mean.”
Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far. Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment. “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.
He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown. Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off? You’d seemed so flattered before. “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice. “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?
“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face. “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there. So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”
“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch. “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there. I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”
You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly. “Yeah, it is.”
“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on. “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”
You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace. “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply. “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.
“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.
“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.
Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself. Bitch. But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course. Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted. Do what I say, or he gets hurt.
Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician. But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.
~
The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.
“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.
And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him. He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties. “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him. But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going. Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.
It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck. “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”
Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.
“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while. “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."
Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long. That made you feel more violated than anything.
“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait. I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”
You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything. “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.
“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”
It was the way he said that word: sweet. It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day. Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that. “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”
“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.
“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”
“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face. “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly. “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”
“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.
“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned. “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers. Don’t give me one.”
Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself. Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen. And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.
“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.
You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.
“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.
“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.
“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.
“Yours! Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek. “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.”
You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest. “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”
You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.
“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.
“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck. “You’re right— you can do whatever you want. I can’t stop you. Isn’t that what you wanted to prove? Just… just don’t make me—”
“Make you?” he repeated. “No, no— you wanted me. I could tell. Only thing stopping you was him.”
He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.
“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you. “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”
Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.
“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts. “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”
You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come. “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.
“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.
“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.
“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick. “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic? That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only. That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least. You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”
He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.
“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.
“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved. “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”
"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"
Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.
A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin. You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.
"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"
He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"
As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.
"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.
He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself. You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head. He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.
“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip. “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”
You shook your head. “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say. Don’t hurt him.”
“Open your legs,” he ordered.
Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.
“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.
He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further. His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.
Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum. "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled. You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away. Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other. "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.
Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.
You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking. Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you? Or was it for his own benefit?
He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open. Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.
“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course. Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely. “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”
You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.
“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips. “So wet. Fuck. When’d you get like that, huh? Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”
He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.
“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly. “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”
You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.
“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed. “Fuck, I might break you…”
He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction. There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips.
“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless. “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”
He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.
“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised. “Now you try it.”
This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside. He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.
“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks. “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl. Knew you could.”
You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet. He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.
“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head. “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”
You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned. “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”
Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.
“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.
You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.
“Go on! Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.
You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this. From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening. Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…
But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.
“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”
“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.
“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly. “Please fuck me.”
You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you. You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside. “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh. “Fuck, it’s tight. Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town. I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”
Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.
Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this. The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.
Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment. “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.
“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously). “Not used to anything this big, huh?”
You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend. You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.
“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust. Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life. “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”
The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to. It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.
“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this. “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”
Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once. Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder. He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore. Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck. One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.
“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss. “Fuck.”
But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him. “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”
“God,” he growled, “say my name again. That’s so hot.”
You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late. “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.
“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.
“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this. “Jackson, f-fuck—”
He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…
As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair.
"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.
Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.
Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.
You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole. “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.
“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.
“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain. “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper. Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling. “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”
Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.
“See? Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb. Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.
He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck.
"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"
He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass. You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…
"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."
You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.
“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster. “Needy little slut. You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”
You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.
"Answer me," he insisted.
"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.
"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.
"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.
“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone. “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”
“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”
"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"
He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.
"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue. "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."
You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.
He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction. "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"
You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird. Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.
“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.
At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting. But in a literal sense, it hurt less.
“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back. Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected. You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly. “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”
Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly. “F-fuck, wait—“
He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him. For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure. “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”
As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going. “Fuck!” you screamed. “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”
“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.
You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something. Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized. Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.
“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder. “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll. Show him who you really belong to now.”
“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries. If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).
It felt fucking good. You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious. And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless. You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually. Shameless. Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed. “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.
It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"
“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.
“Mm? Why not?” he smirked.
You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that. “What?” you just asked groggily. “Why… why do you think?!”
He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going. Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?
“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.
“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific. “Fuck!”
He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing. But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could. You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.
He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?
As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.
“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.
You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.
“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.
Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor. Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.
“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him. He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat. “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.
He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest. You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.
When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.
It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved. It’s over, he’s finally done with you. You did it. It’s over. But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.
“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you. “You see it, don’t you? He looks different now.”
You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing. You suddenly felt sick.
“He looks at you different now.”
You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that. Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you. But what had you done wrong? All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person…
Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder. “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.
“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.
“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”
Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek. “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault! I didn’t want this to happen!”
“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”
You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly. After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.
He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence. “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.
“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took. Everything. From me.”
“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you? Can’t help that?”
“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.
“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?”
Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience. You shook your head.
“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that. I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”
“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.
“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked. “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”
You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself. “Work…?”
“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”
Synopsis; You’re stuck in a locked cell with the twins, a mysterious gas emerged
Warnings; Sex pollen, non-con/dubcon. Smut, threesome. PWP. LIKE NO PLOT AT ALL, DOUBLE PENETRATION, breeding kink, anal
A/N; Sorry for being M.I.Im so busy OML but here is a gift <3
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A loud hiss can be heard in the air as the three of them snap their heads up to see what is going on. The confusion was written all over their face, they could only hear the sounds but they couldn’t exactly see what was occurring. Jonathan was the first one to realize it as the panic struck across his face, walking towards the door they once entered he tried opening it but to no avail, it was locked shut. He cursed to himself not wanting anyone to panic, especially Y/N who’s most anxious when things like this happen. Jackson caught on, as he walked towards his brother, trying to pull open the steel door but it was still latched shut.
They were trapped.
“Wait, what’s going on?” Y/N questioned, trying to see what the fuss was with the two as they stared at each other hesitantly and then back at her, “What?”
“We’re trapped” Jonathan stated as he could see the color of the girl’s face pale as she took a step back. “Calm down, Y/N. We’ll find a way out. We always do, alright?”
“That’s the thing. You found a way out. I’ve never been in a situation like this before…” Y/N could feel her heart pounding violently in her ribcage as her lungs started to constrict, limiting the air as her breathing started to pick up. Jackson walks towards the girl, carefully placing a hand on her back, trying his best to calm her down. The last thing they need was her freaking out. She needs to be as calm as possible so that she can think straight and find a way out.
Jonathan motioned Jackson to look up and pay attention to the noise and mist coming from above them, Jackson nodded as he caught on to what Jonathan was trying to say. “Do you know what it is?” Jackson asked as Jonathan speculated a few answers in his head.
“It can be a few things, non-lethal… doesn’t kill it’s subject until they were tested” Jonathan answered as Jackson received the information while looking around the room. Y/N was in the corner, trying hard to calm herself down and not be a burden to them. She barely heard what they were saying, she was too focused on healing herself.
They monitored this facility for months and months and nobody was here. They came here to collect more information on the organization. This room was probably automated.
The hissing in the air lasted for about three hours and they still had no idea what it was. It wasn’t making them feel dizzy or pain or sleepy, at least it hadn’t kicked in just yet.
Jonathan’s best bet was that the door would open by tomorrow, it’s what they always did with prisoners. It’s automated so a door towards their observing room would probably open up, it explains why there was a big ass mirror staring right back at them. They didn’t stop looking for an escape whatsoever, for all they know this gas could carry diseases—if it was that, they were in big big trouble.
But oh boy, were they wrong.
Jackson was the one to feel the symptoms first. The room was cold but he was excreting a crazy amount of sweat that made him take off his jacket and toss it to the floor as he shags his hair, feeling it growing damper and damper by the second. It felt like his blood was boiling, his skin was burning. Jonathan eyed him carefully, studying his manners to see if it was anything he was familiar with. “Hot?”
Jackson nodded, wiping the sweat on his forehead as he took a seat right next to Y/N, checking up on her once again. She was calmer now, at least now that Jackson explained what Jonathan told him they should be fine.
Jonathan starts to get what Jackson is saying. The room was hot. It was getting hotter and hotter for both of them, they were sitting in a goddamn oven.
“Hey, is it just me or it’s literally burning?” Jackson asked as Y/N shook her head, furrowing her brows in confusion as she stared at both men back and forth. “It’s fucking boiling in here” Jackson unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, he wanted to take off all of his clothes but he didn’t want to make Y/N feel uncomfortable.
The second symptom came in when both of their throats suddenly went dry, their mouth was dry but it wasn’t producing any saliva to lubricate their throat. Jonathan’s eyes widened when he starts to realize what was going on.
“Jackson, we gotta get out!” He shouted suddenly, startling Jackson and Y/N as they stood up quickly. They wanted to walk towards him but Jonathan pointed at Y/N to stay where she was. “Don’t fucking come near me!”
“Jonathan, what’s going on?” Jackson implored as he told Y/N to stand down. “You’re acting weird…”
“It’s not fucking safe, Jackson! We gotta get out of here, right now!” Jonathan saw this one too many times. He was so sure it was what he thought it was. Hell, he even managed to create this himself once.
The thing they were inhaling wasn’t gas. It was pollen. It is a stimulating pollen that made humans turn into sick monsters. These people used the pollen for breeding purposes. They wanted to make an enhanced being without needing any serum. They wanted someone gifted to exist biologically. Jonathan had experienced this himself but he had never seen what it did to other people. He was lucky enough he had an antidote before he went completely feral.
It was terrifying.
“Y/N… Y/N’s not safe” Jonathan swallowed the nonexistent liquid as he took shallow breaths for himself. Jackson started to feel the same thing Jonathan was feeling and it made him frantic. Jackson forced Jonathan to tell him what was going on or he was going crazy. Their stomach churned and they felt hungry.
Only this time it wasn’t for food.
“J-Jackson… We need t-to… Get o-out… Y/N’s not safe” It was getting harder for him to talk now. He was starting to feel it. They were starting to feel it. It was coiling in their bellies, growing hot and heavy. They were goners now.
“Jonathan, you’re freaking me out. Stop talking about me like I’m not here! At least let me help…” All she did was stood closer to him and touched his back but Jonathan’s response was beyond feral. He grunted, taking her wrist with his arm as he gripped on it, not wanting to let her go. Jonathan pushed her against the wall as she whimpered, feeling the wall colliding with her back as she whined in pain. “J-Jonathan?”
His other hand took her free wrist. Pinning both of them beside her head as he buried his face in her neck. He took a long whiff her scent—fear. It fueled him to the brim with the desire to absolutely destroy her, break her into tiny little pieces.
“J-Jackson, help… It h-hurts…” She pleaded but Jackson did nothing. He stood there, watching Jonathan feel her up and he liked it. He liked seeing his brother grope her, feeling up her perky breasts, rubbing her pussy through her pants.
God, he loves it.
Y/N felt the lump in her throat growing as the tears start forming in the corner of her eyes. Y/N stands no chance against Jonathan, she couldn’t do anything. All that is going through her mind was that maybe Jonathan was triggered but she had no idea why Jackson just stood there, watching her and did absolutely nothing.
“Why are you d-doing this, Jonathan?… Jackson!” She exclaimed, wanting him to do something, anything. Jonathan’s hand traveled down to her pants as he eyed them down. With a swift motion Jonathan effortlessly tore her pants off as he immediately kneeled in front of her, letting go of her wrists because he was positive she wasn’t going to go anywhere. He stared at the sheer cotton covering the most prized possession and out of nowhere he went and darted his tongue out, licking the nub of her clit as she whimpered to herself. Jackson stood there, his cock was dripping and heavy in his pants. He took them off, palming himself through his boxers as he watched his brother licks Y/N’s pussy softly, wetting the garment as her knees starts to become weak.
Jackson then steps forward, tearing her suit off of her torso and so does her bra. She cried when Jackson groped her breasts, leaning down to lick her pebbled nipples that had hardened from the cold air. Jonathan took off her panties, and his fingers attacked her swollen and puffy clit, rubbing it harshly as she thrashed against the wall, not having the power to even help herself up. She fell down to the ground, naked and afraid as Jonathan spreads her legs and starts entering his fingers inside her tight little cunt.
“Jonathan, Jackson... Please... Stop!” The stretch was excruciating and Jonathan didn’t show her mercy, he pumped his fingers in and out of her hole at a rapid pace, earning a scream of agony that had only made them even more feral. When she looked to her right, she can see Jackson, stroking his big and hard cock to the sound of her crying and being molested on the floor. Y/N was ashamed, there was nothing more than humiliation, fear, and disappointment running through her mind. She was drenched, leaking onto Jonathan’s fingers as she kept looking at Jackson’s cock that was dripping with pre-cum. She was ashamed that her body was enjoying what was happening to her.
Jonathan curled his fingers inside her pussy as she felt the pit growing inside her tummy, her pussy was tingling and she knew what was going to happen.
She was going to cum.
“J-Jonathan…!” She shouted as she let it all out, her thighs shaking and her body quivering as she moaned out loudly. Despite him being emotionless, the subtle smirk on the corner of his lips can be seen and there’s nothing more sinister than that. “Please… S-stop… Jonathan… Jackson… This is not like you…”
Both of them completely ignored the words that were coming out of her mouth. Jonathan stripped off of his clothes and pants, showing him and all of his glory. His cock was hard, deep purple veins were poking out as the tip leaked with clear pre-cum. They both hovered over her body like predators as Jonathan picked her up. Y/N didn’t fight, she didn’t say anything because nothing she said can change anything. She doesn’t know why this was happening to her.
Jonathan lined up his cock on her dripping entrance as Jackson came behind her, and what he did next made her scream the loudest she had ever scream.
Both of them impaled her holes at the same time, thrusting together at the same time, and she can feel herself psychically break. Their huge cocks filled her up to the point where they can see the curve of their bulges in her belly, moving up and down. Y/N hides her face into Jonathan’s neck, whimpering and pleading, hoping that the real Jonathan was still there to stop all of this.
Both of the men groaned and grunted loudly, loving the way how tight and warm her holes were. Their mission was still clear in their mind.
They wanted to fill all of her holes full of their cum. So full until it leaked onto the floor.
Jackson held her neck lightly choking her as she strained from her breath. They were both having the time of their lives, having their cocks stuffed into a pretty little cum rag all for them to use.
The noise they made was a mix of pleasure and pain, Y/N couldn’t form words out of her mouth anymore, she only screamed and screamed as she felt every inch of their dicks thrusting inside her.
Y/N could feel them twitching inside of her and she knew this was finally going to end.
Jackson and Jonathan grunted at the same time as the warm liquid was released inside her, painting her walls white as she could feel them filling her up. The small bloat in her tummy can be seen, she was so full of their cum.
When they were done, hey laid her onto the floor as the tears start pouring down her face. The cum inside her pussy seeped out onto the floor, pooling underneath her.
Jackson and Jonathan watched their seed escape her pussy and her ass as they felt themselves hardened again. They both stood up, picking her back up to repeat what they were doing.
Y/N was going to spend the next twenty-four hours with all of her holes filled with Jackson’s and Jonathan’s cum and there’s nothing she can do about it.
