Hey, looking for prompts? Here's a fun one Rhackothy: Jack and Tim team up and start playing pranks on Rhys becaude he can't tell them appart
XD PAH! I’ll do it.
“JACK!” came Rhys’ accusing shout from atop the stairs along with the pounding steps descending toward the living room below, “I KNOW YOU TOOK IT!”
He stormed in and rounded the couch the second he caught sight of the man’s chestnut hairstyle peeking just over the back cushions. “Jack, hand it over or-!” Rhys clapped his hand over his mouth the moment he felt certain he’d gotten the wrong twin.
The Lawrence was napping leisurely on the couch with legs comfortably snug within a blanket and arm drapped over the side. But the true giveaway was the book in his lap. It was one of Timothy’s. Jack wouldn’t dare to be caught dead with such a thing… much less a book at all.
“Mmm…sorry,” Rhys whispered to the innocent sleeping form before tiptoeing in his striped socks back to the hallway.
He heard the sound of the water hose being used just outside, alerting him to Jack’s location. Quietly making a brisk walk for the back door, Rhys charged out of it and onto the wooden patio to find the man himself… watering petunias? He grasped the railing in confusion, unsure of what he was seeing.
Jack… would never water something as ‘girly’ as petunias. Then again, Rhys never saw the man as a gardener. Tim on the otherhand…
“Rhys! Hey! What brings you out here?”
Rhys bit his lip with a shy wave in… a Lawrence’s direction.
He was kind of hoping for him to provide one of the cheesy nicknames Jack always had for him. Then Rhys would’ve known for sure it was Jack.
“Hiii. U-Uh, I was just… Um… H-Have you um…”
The twin dropped his hose slightly while eyeing Rhys curiously. He readied to reply but a crash from upstairs stole their attention.
Rhys immediately knew the culprit as he yelled, “JAAAACK!”
The sound had no doubt come from his bedroom. He raced back inside, refusing to let Jack win this time only to become surprised to find his room hardly disturbed aside from a chair knocked over. Rhys stepped in carefully, certain that Jack was still inside somewhere.
“You know, that was really clever of you… Pretending to be Tim on the couch,” Rhys mentioned rather shakily as he continued inside.
The door slammed shut behind him as a body leapt at his back, sending them both onto his bed where he proceeded to be pinned.
“J-Jack! G-Get off!”
“Nope! Not Jack. Not this time,” came a teasing whisper into Rhys’ ear, sending his cheeks ablaze with crimson.
“T-Tim?”
“Awww. You suck! I wanted to surprise him…” groaned who Rhys thought to be Jack, currently climbing out from beneath Rhys’ bed.
“Wait! What?! You were there the whole time?” Rhys demanded while trying to still wrestle away from which ever of the siblings was still trying to ensnare him on the bed.
The one standing merely grinned before easily seizing Rhys’ arms and placing them above his head while the other sibling trapped his hips.
“Let’s play a game, Rhysie!” insisted the one now untwisting Rhys’ waist to make him face them.
“No, no! Please! I-I don’t like this gaaame!”
“But it’s our favoriiite,” said the other before placing gentle kisses on Rhys’ knuckles, “Come on. Who is who? You know the stakes. If we win-”
“J-Just give me a hint! You guys weren’t fair this time! I need a hint!”
Both brothers actually gave pause to that, allowing Rhys a moment to catch his breath after all the fight he gave. A sudden nip to his exposed hip bone made him jump, earning a chuckle from both of them.
“A hint. What were you looking for, pumpkin?”
Rhys wasn’t sure. In truth, he knew he couldn’t really rely on the nicknames. Not if they were aware of the game. The twins were too smart for that. So instead he focused on their touch - even though it made it ten times more difficult to remember what he was doing. The one above him was careful and sweet in his ministrations while the one below grasped him roughly, fully in control.
“I have it. I know who you are,” Rhys concluded with a slow swallow and a prayer.
“Aaaand?” pressed the one below him as his tongue dragged across Rhys’ skin. “I… I think you’re Jack. S-So give me back what you took.” “Am I?”There was a tension in the air that constricted the muscles in Rhys’ chest the longer it played out. It wasn’t until he heard the disgruntled huff of the Lawrence above him that he could tell something was amiss.
“Hate to break it to ya, kiddo. But I didn’t take anything of yours. Though you could always ask my brother.”
Rhys froze as it was the one holding his arms saying that. His gaze swept down to the Cheshire smile between his knees, toying with his legs in prying them further apart.
“Sorry, Rhys. I didn’t feel like playing fair today. That package of yours really upset me… Still trying to run away?”
Jack’s eyes narrowed down them before locking with Tim’s gaze. His grip suddenly became more fierce along with Timothy’s as they were already in sync for what they had planned next.
“Th-That was private… You promised that you wouldn’t look through my things…” Rhys panted as hands were already beginning to search him for any other unknowns he’d been keeping away.
“You promised not to try escaping anymore, sweetheart. But! On the upside, we get to do a sweet ass cavity search. Ready, TimTams?”
“This won’t be gentle, Rhys. Sooner or later, you’re going to learn that there isn’t any point leaving. Because no matter what… you’ll always want to be right here.”
“Nnngh! T-Tim! I’m-! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
A wicked grin split across the bottom one’s face before he peered back up to see Rhys’ reddening one.
“No, actually… I’m sorry. Well, sorry but now sorry. I’m actually Jack.”
Rhys stilled, having become at a complete loss for words.
“In all fairness though, I did tell you, didn’t I? I didn’t feel like playing fair today…”
Could you write something with Rhys having to save Jack from Timothy? Like Tim gets closer to hurting Jack than Rhys has ever seen between the two of them.
I will try, but I am struggling since angry-Tim muse is just… I dunno where it’s at. I think it’s rough since I’ve never actually seen fanart of Timothy just losing his shit. It’s mostly him being a creampuff or being sexually overwhelmed. Not so much the other way around where he actually has a form of wrath of his own.
But I shall endeavour to fulfill your request, Anon!
The rainfall beat down on them, discouraging Rhys in his desperation to rise from the shallow mud. The night was so dark that only the splintered veins of lightning every so often would reveal the bone chilling nightmare that was unfolding.
“TIM! TIM, STOP!”
Rhys’ voice came out hoarse. He’d been screaming for what felt like hours.
This was the first time he had seen the Lawrence brothers escalate a single disagreement to such a deadly degree. He always envisioned Jack and Timothy impossibly inseparable, yet as another crack of lightning pierced the sky, Rhys caught sight of Timothy successfully rendering the older twin unconscious before another flash revealed him dragging Jack across the wooden dock by his ruined jacket.
“TIM!”
Clawing into the stubborn earth, pushing out each exhausted breath, Rhys stubbornly hauled himself toward the dock. He wasn’t that far off, only a few more feet and he could use the clearances between planks to get there faster. The only weighing problem was that he was fatigued beyond all belief. His mind was still hazy while the muscles in his arms trembled with strain.
At some point, he wouldn’t be able to move anymore. If he stayed put, he might recover long enough to save himself… but another crackle beckoned him to look up.
Timothy already had Jack on the edge.
The winds were picking up and Rhys was sure Tim wouldn’t listen. But feeling around the unforgiving filth beneath his fingertips, he did find something that might be more along the lines of the Lawrence language.
In the meantime, Jack was straightened to sit up against one of the standing posts while Timothy hissed beneath his breath, restraining his irksome brother by his hands and feet with his usual choice of bondage - just for Jack. He pulled at them roughly, uncaring of any damage he could inflict. Tim considered getting a hammer and smashing his brother’s hands, but he felt with Rhys still being far too involved (in what Timothy considered to absolutely none of his business) that it would prove to be overkill.
He could still hear Rhys yelling something out from behind him, but he chose to ignore him. This was a Lawrence affair, and he was going to handle it as they always did.
Though Timothy did find a bruised and beaten version of his older brother a very appealing sight, there was no going back. Jack was going to have to face the severe consequences for his actions - even if those actions were merely in retaliation of his own…
“Tim, I swear, if you don’t turn around!”
The downpour was seriously starting to piss him off, as was Rhys. Taking a sharp breath past the incessant wind and cold biting rain, Timothy turned back to see Rhys having remarkably crawled his way to the end of the dock with a glinting something pointed at his neck.
“Oh… hell… Rhys!”
“D-Don’t you dare!! Come any closer and I’ll-!”
“Rhys, this isn’t-!”
“Stay there and let Jack go! I will do it, Tim!”
Darkness fell between them again, allowing Timothy a moment to think. In the brief moment he could see Rhys, he saw it. The trembling hands. The terror of actually taking his own life for nothing.
Rhys wasn’t going to hurt himself - much less end himself.
“Do what you want, kiddo!”
Strangely, a part of him relished being able to see the pure emotion that permeated every feature of Rhys’ face and body as Tim shoved Jack off the dock using his foot. It was so easy. Jack toppled right into the watery abyss. Tim was sure Rhys was waiting for Jack to resurface somewhere. Rhys didn’t even move as Timothy strolled toward him. He flexed his wrists while doing so, in case Rhys was still determined to fight back.
But everything in Rhys’ face spoke sweet defeat.
Timothy knelt down, finding his ruined expression so full of beauty. He chanced slowly peeling the knife from Rhys’ trembling fingers before kissing his sullied cheek.
“He’s not coming back up, Rhys. Besides, you’re in no shape to stick around here so…”
Scooping up his clearly traumatized doll, Timothy carried Rhys bridal style back towards the house. It was utterly sinful how desperately Tim wanted to take advantage of Rhys’ broken state then, but he knew he’d never forgive himself if he caused Rhys to be shattered forever.
So he restrained his urges while taking a breath that everything might be sorted out in the morrow…
The following morning, Rhys awoke in his room to the sun peering through a broken window pane. It didn’t click to him that it was broken at first. Instead, the reality of his world began to return to him in one fell swoop as tears formed at the corners of his eyes. He hiccuped where he was lying, preparing to sob until an arm snaked itself around his chest.
Tim.
He couldn’t believe the nerve. Even Timothy should have had the decency not to… Not right after…
“Get. OFF ME!”
The twin behind him grumbled at his yelling and thrashing about, but Rhys fought back even harder until he was effectively pinned down by his still soaked companion.
“The fuck, Rhys?! I just climbed out of that fucking lake, and this how you goddamn greet me?”
Rhys stilled aside from the rapid rise and fall of his chest while both his arms remained pinned above his head. The twin was sitting on his lap and was clearly still dripping from his hair.
“Is this some sort of sick joke, Tim? Because-”
“Oh my god. Rhys. I’m Jack.”
“Like hell you are. I watched you push him into the lake! He- Jack’s-!”
And then the waterworks came freely. Rhys didn’t care anymore. He was going to mourn Jack even if Timothy was going to try and make a sham out of it.
The one above him, however, didn’t make any cheapshot comments or even started to try and lick up his tears. No… the twin on top of him grew uncomfortably quiet as he averted his gaze.
“K-Kiddo. Seriously. I’m right here.”
“St-stop it… Okay? Just stop, Tim… Please,” Rhys begged as he continued to cry his heart out right there.
“Stop what?”
A voice from the doorway sent Rhys’ head turning to see the second twin standing there with a neatly folded towels between his hands. Immediately, his head flicked back to the Lawrence above him - who was no doubt grinning.
“Oh, cupcake.”
So in the AU, when the brothers reach “sick of your shit” level of anger, they actually kinda try to kill each other but they give the other a chance to save themselves. Jack wasn’t unconscious, he was just super out of it. Plus, Tim tied him with zipties that Jack could easily rip himself out of.
And they’ve reach this weird understanding of how this is how they get the other’s undivided attention. XD Attempted murder. But they have a deep trust to know the other won’t actually go through with it. Thus Jack isn’t even mad. He’s used to it. (Plus he’s done way worse to Tim.)
I knoooow. Rhys doesn’t actually save Jack but in a way I feel he does. Since the brothers are very well aware that if one dies, Rhys is a lost cause. And neither want to lose their adorable captive’s mind to something that petty.
Well, you guys are hella amazing to love this AU so much to wait out 6 months for me actually get part 5 up. But here it is~! Yaaay! And it’s kinda long. So I do hope you all enjoy.
After his ‘episode’ at the airport, the dark burdening curse of his unexplainable dilemma resumed its macabre existence beneath his skin. It was as if it gave off a perfectly recognizable scent solely through his pores - only detectable by the frightening, broken minds that constantly attempted to seize him for their own.
Sleep had been impossible to find, up until it wasn’t.
Rhys felt a careful yet firm tug on his shoulder, surprising him from an unrecalled slumber. He sat straighter in his suddenly unfamiliar surroundings. He was now in someone’s living room, but his memory was too fogged for the details as to he arrived there.
The unknown being’s hand was still clasped to him. The contact chilling him to the core.
As if sensing his terror, the person released him without a sound and his world proceeded to slow down to the tempo of a reaper’s march. Worry clamored inside him like cymbals beaten senselessly together. His possible captor was rounding the leather couch that he was on.
He dared not turn to find to whom the hand belonged. Instead he was already scanning the living room for an escape route. Though he mostly found the disturbing indication of it being nighttime beyond its locked windows. The footsteps nearing him sounded ever more daunting with every heavy step upon the hardwood floor.
How much time had passed since he arrived?
His question scarcely survived more than a few jarring seconds as a pair of strong arms encircled his shoulders from just behind the couch. Rhys tensed with despair. His captor had left for something and returned, and Rhys still had no recollection of the past several hours. His fingers dug desperately into his thighs as he quickly searched with just his eyes for anything he could potentially convert into a weapon.
“Still having nightmares, cupcake?”
Rhys blinked with surprise from where he sat, relaxing slightly despite feeling mostly stumped. He could feel Jack’s chin rest itself atop his head in a jeering sort of way.
The visitor ducked his head down slightly, feeling embarrassed for not to having noticed Jack's intoxicatingly masculine cologne from the start. His overwhelming fear had somehow managed to blot away any notion of him being safe. It was a strange feeling as his uneasiness still struggled to leave him, as if still warning him of an unseen danger.
Unwilling to let his scare get the best of him, Rhys did his best just to relax in Jack’s protective (and slightly possessive) hold. Rhys shuddered out the excess of his adrenaline, gasping out by mistake as he had been incidentally holding his breath the entire time.
“Nightmares it is then,” Jack concluded for him with a slight huff before rocking the both of them side to side, “Rhyyyys. You just got heeerrreee. Stop worrying so much!”
Rhys could already picture the carefree look in the other’s face, but he wasn’t about to condemn it. He’d been paranoid again - which was natural considering his not so normal history with being kidnapped by all sorts of unique characters. But with Jack's ridiculous attempt at consoling him, he couldn't help but break into a shy smile.
“So… do you do this to everyone you invite over?”
“Only the good looking ones,” Jack replied casually with a suggestive nuzzle before gifting Rhys with a surprise bite to his ear.
“J-Jack!”
A snicker teased Rhys’ eardrums as his friend’s arms slid from his slim shoulders.
“Hahaha! If only you could’ve seen how stiff you got just now! Ahhh. All right, cupcake, I'm only messing with you. You can calm down now, but it is good to see you out of that gloom and doom mood you were wearing a second ago. I swear, you sleep better than most corpses do. Well, before you start with the whole tossing and turning thing…”
Jack jumped over the back of the couch with ease while sliding his arm back around Rhys’ shoulders, tugging the auburn haired man into him so that their sides pressed firmly together. Jack’s warmth enveloped him like a superheater while his musk made it difficult for Rhys to think straight. He decided to surrender, however, as he relaxed into his friend whilst inhaling soft breaths.
“I fell asleep?”
“You bet your sorry ass. I was bored the entire drive back. Because,” Jack’s arm then coiled around Rhys tighter, “-someone was too busy snoozing away in the back seat.”
Rhys eyed him in confusion before staring off to the side, doing his best to recollect the fragments of memory that he lost.
“Was I out for that long?”
“For ages. I could’ve finished a novel and made it a movie by the time you-” Jack noticed Rhys’ sudden wince, causing him to change tactics in his delivery, “I mean... you only woke up long enough to walk out of the damn air terminal before passing out again on the drive here.”
His voice had lightened up in its agitation but only slightly.
“Which was super rude, by the way. You should really consider making that up to me. After all, I am your hero.”
Desperate flashes of the security guard scalded Rhys’ vision as he slowly touched his neck for confirmation. Jack watched every motion carefully from where he sat. His eyes seemed particularly interested in other man’s throat as well. As Rhys’ fingers grazed it, he turned to Jack, as if wanting the older man to admit the unspoken. Though in reality, Rhys actually was at a loss for what to say.
“Something the matter, kiddo?” Jack’s eyes hadn’t wandered from where Rhys was still tentatively pressing at his skin in search of bruises.
Jack almost seemed entertained by it all as a smile creeped along side his question.
But Rhys reassured himself that Jack was only trying to help ease his nerves… He was his friend after all. A highly attractive, clever, and hot tempered friend but a friend nonetheless. And Rhys had already made the near mistake of attacking him out of pure paranoia. He didn’t want to mess up this new beginning when it barely even started.
“N-Not really… I…”
“Rhysie, what’ve we talked about before? If you’re gonna come down here with us, then you gotta be more open. We’re a team here, baby.”
A soft guilt curled around him much like his blanket did. Jack was right. Rhys couldn’t just bottle these things up anymore, but he didn’t want to seem like a trauma victim trapped in phony flashbacks either.
“Did… something happen... at the airport?” he finally asked as he fiddled with the softness of the blanket.
“Did something happen? Like what? When those babes totally tripped over themselves to get a selfie with me?” Jack offered with a pleased smirk before, “Ooh, you were so jealous. I could totally tell.”
Rhys frowned at the accusation but moreso over the fact that he couldn’t remember what Jack was talking about. He could barely even remember what the inside of the airport looked like when he arrived.
“Or wait, wait, wait. What about that time my idiot sibling thought he was doing you a favor by waiting for your luggage, but I just stole you away to the parking garage. Ha ha! Tim was royally pissed, but it was so worth it. Wouldn’t you agree, pumpkin?”
“Um…” Rhys could sense the mood change but he couldn’t fathom as to why.
Danger pricked at his neck, causing the tiny hairs to rise in time with his anxiety.
“Ohhh… Now I know exactly what you wanna talk about.”
Jack had begun to lean forward with an expression of satisfaction far too attractive for Rhys to stare directly at as he quickly dipped his eyes downward.
It did little to prevent Jack’s advance as he was close enough to nearly press his forehead into Rhys’. His sensualized cologne made it even harder for Rhys to concentrate on his mysterious feelings of dread as another unwanted feeling coiled inside him - an inappropriate heat collecting in his groin. His knees shifted uncomfortably together, praying Jack wouldn’t notice how easily excitable he was.
“Rhysie, you’re referring to when you kissed me. You little minx, you. Honestly, I didn’t expect such boldness out of you, but hey, like hell if I’ll complain.”
Rhys’ face blazed as he tried to deny such a venture but partial flashes, awakened from Jack’s closeness, broke from the depths of his memory. He remembered being aggressively pinned out of view to the side of some random van, the traveling hands groping across his exposed skin, and the stimulating hand around his neck. Rhys’ eyes flicked up for just a moment to see his friend’s lips, instantly recalling the heat of that mouth on his own… for a very long time. And all while Jack’s hands experimented with his every reaction just as a musician would tune an instrument.
As erotic as the images and sensations were, however, the only crippling downside was that he couldn’t remember was how it ended.
Though it did little to distract him from the fact that he had made out with his friend/friend’s brother/ friend’s twin on the very first day. Rhys still couldn’t muster a single word to say. But at least the terror of getting attacked again seemed further and further away. The mystery of his injury was finally put to rest as it felt more like a nightmare rather than reality - especially considering Jack’s lack of mentioning it.
Which speaking of Jack…
Rhys flicked his eyes up to see the other man’s conniving smirk again before turning away once more in embarrassment. Had he really just made out with Jack? Why couldn’t he remember how it started? He wrapped his arms around himself, feeling more foolish by the second.
“Rhysie, what’s the matter? I didn’t take you to be the blushing bride type.”
“I-I’m not! I just… It was too soon. I-”
“Now, buttercup, don’t go breaking my heart and start telling me that you didn’t enjoy every last bit.”
Rhys chewed his lip, too mortified to answer. He had too many unanswered questions. How could he be missing so much information? Had the attack even happened? Did he make it up? Had he drank too much on the plane? He could have sworn he just had a single mixed drink to ease his flying jitters. Instead, he somehow blacked out. But that didn’t change the fact that his body was already aching to relive those very physical memories.
Pieces were still pouring through which had him squirming where he sat. The taste of Jack’s mouth on his own. The press of his undeniable arousal into Rhys’ hip. The way Jack’s hands controlled everything, allowing Rhys the freedom not to think and be dominated only.
“I can tell you’re thinking about it right now… You know… if you want, I suppose we could let you have another taste.”
Rhys’ imagination went wild in attempting to determine what ‘taste’ that was as well as what Jack had meant by ‘we.’ He buried himself as far as he could into the couch, sinking low, as he tried to consider just how far they’d truly gone in that parking garage.
“All you gotta do is close those eyes and open wide, sweetheart,” Jack coaxed with a voice clearly meant for bedroom use only.
Rhys could feel himself melting away as Jack’s hand cupped at his cheek - up until an angry voice slit through the mood.
“JACK, that’s enough.”
Rhys abruptly turned to find Timothy storming in the living, carrying a dark washcloth as he furiously dried his hands. With stern look, incapable of forgiveness, Tim tossed the strange cloth at Jack - who deftly caught it without so much as a glimpse in his sibling’s direction. He seemed far too involved in ruining Rhys’ crumbling sexual barriers to care for anything Tim had to say at this point.
“Busy here, TimTams,” Jack answered warningly while instead tending to Rhys’ delicate jawline, “You can get your turn once I’m through.”
“T-Turn?”
Rhys tried to look between them but Jack’s hand kept his head firmly still.
“Or you could just give all his turns to me,” Jack suggested casually before taking a quick glance at the cloth in his hand.
His expression changed dramatically. His usual cocky grin dropped almost instantly while his gaze hardened on the cloth. He was entirely different. It was a look Rhys had never experienced before… and Tim was wearing it too.
“I think you have some responsibilities to attend to,” insisted Timothy with a level of seriousness that had Rhys feeling nervous all over again.
Jack’s usual demeanor was diminished just from that single statement.
“Are you sure about that, TimTams? Rhys and I were about to get well acquainted again and I just-”
“It can’t wait, Jack. I think your opportunity might’ve found the door.”
A grunt of disgust escaped the older man before he forced himself from his confused conquest - still shifting awkwardly on the couch. Rhys expected Jack to spit some sort of rebuttal, but surprisingly, Jack seemed to forget the two of them entirely, simply darting heatedly for what Rhys assumed was the front door.
It slammed indicating his departure which left Rhys even more confused and frustrated than he had been moments before.
---
I knooooow. I teased. XD But so far Jack is ‘winning’. I’ll see if Tim might get his chance in the next piece.
I'm really excited that youre continuing Wanted! And super pumped to see the rest of the stories you're working on!
I knooooow! Me too, Anon! =3 I started watching Hannibal and it kinda got me back into the swing of things. I mean, Chapter 5 is sitting around buuuut I just don’t feel write with it. Eh. I’ll tinker with it.
It’s hard to stick to chronological when I haven’t even mapped it out. And I don’t map out things since I change them up a gazillion times anyway. Soooo I wing it. Or I have a vague timeline in my head.
But thank you for your reply, Anon!! <3 I kinda wondered if I lost the fans of Wanted due to my hiatus so I wasn’t sure if any of you were really reading anymore.
Anywho! Snippet for yooouuu…
Rhys kept his back firm against the furthest wall of the kitchen whilst his hand gripped hard around his mouth. The urge to puke was higher than ever after having witnessed a terrible fleshy organ left draping gruesomely over the sink. All he wanted was to wash the glass he’d been using and make a swift retreat back to his room before either twin could find him. “Rhysie! Heeeey, what’s got you up so late at-” Jack chimed in from the doorway with a boyish grin but his smile faltered at the sight of what Rhys was attempting to avoid, “Ohhhh. Right. Sorry about that, kiddo!”
He strolled in casually, revealing rolled up sleeves with blood coating him to his elbows. He didn’t even bother removing his rings as bits of flesh hung off of them. “Mmm!” Rhys quivered away as Jack approached, turning as far as he could only to find that the older sibling had gone to the sink instead. “Geez, I didn’t think you’d be so squeamish,” snickered Jack.The sound of running water followed by the gut wrenching ‘plopping’ sounds as the older man cleaned the organs was more than Rhys could take as he scampered up the stairs. Jack’s cruel laughter followed after him with every step though the man himself remained within the kitchen. Tears pricked at Rhys’ eyes as he only just reached the top before colliding into the other twin. Needless to say, Tim was the last person he was willing to see right now - especially when part of his face was splattered with blood. “Ah!” Rhys recoiled away, having felt something painful stab into him, but Timothy’s gentle smile and firm hold of his arm followed him. A quick look downwards and he could already see Tim’s favorite brand of syringe already plunged deep within his inner elbow. Rhys’ arm might’ve trembled if Timothy hadn’t been holding onto him so tightly. “Rhyyys, you’re looking kind of pale there. Did you see something you weren’t supposed to again?” he warned with that ever sweet tone of an innocence that had most of the world fooled. But Rhys wasn’t about to fall for it. He’d seen this side of Tim far more times than he could count. It was always when he’d seen too much. The drug was going to make him forget again. Rhys was certain of it. He desperately yanked for the return of his arm but the damage had already been done. He could feel the unwanted pressure already invading his veins, burning at the flesh from underneath. Tim released him with a pleased smile before tick-tocking the used syringe back and forth as some sort sick childish tease. “You know how difficult it is for you to know these things, Rhys. Besides, isn’t it much nicer just to live oblivious to it all? But hey, if you want me to keep sticking you… I don’t mind at all,” Timothy remarked honestly with a sudden look of dark lust at the mention of ‘sticking.’ Rhys wasn’t even sure if the other man was looking at him or just at his body. He swallowed dryly while taking a few steps back. He grasped over his bicep, somehow hoping to prevent the passage of the drug into the rest of his bloodstream. Not that it helped. His world was already beginning to pulse on its own. “N-No… I’m not… I’m not forgetting again,” Rhys insisted while accidentally backing into a bookshelf. The ache in his shoulder blades was delayed but still there. He still had a little more time left but not much. His arms flailed behind him for somewhere to grip, knocking over decorative trinkets and books. Rhys could’ve cared less of the mess he was creating. He needed to get away from the younger Lawrence before the drugs kicked in. “Ohhhh, Rhys. It’s always so cute when you try to run away. You’re just so… helpless,” Tim mused aloud as he walked ever so calmly to the struggling man, “It’s great. It’s always so much fun to play with you when you’re so complying.” “G-Get away,” Rhys demanded while now clinging to the wall and praying that he was going in the right direction for his room, “I don’t… want you anywhere… n-near me…” Rhys wasn’t sure what his plan was anymore. He just wanted to get away from the madman in front of him but the most he could hope to manage was to lock himself away in his room. Not that it would matter. A locked door wouldn’t bar the other for long, but at this point, Rhys just had to do something. No matter how fruitless the attempt would turn out to be. “Just a little further down. You’re almost there, kiddo,” Timothy teased, already noting the sluggishness in Rhys’ actions, “Or you could always just come to me. That bruise on your head still hasn’t quite healed from last time, has it?” Rhys tensed with gritted teeth against the doorframe he found. He had no idea where it led. His cognition was already failing him. His fingers gripped tightly to the wood as Timothy prattled on, ruining his precious concentration. “What if you fall and break your arm this time? That’d be… problematic, I think.” “Be quiet.” “Quiet? Really? You’re always so noisy with Jack,” snipped the serial killer with a heavy dose of jealousy, “But now you suddenly want quiet?” “Tim… please…” whined Rhys, not even sure what he was begging for as he pressed his sweating forehead to the cool wall, “Stop.” “Stop what, Rhysie?” “Please…” “Please. What.” The weight of the floorboards signified the other’s approach which left the drugged man for a loss as he slid down the doorframe in defeat. Rhys felt a pair of arms scoop him up with great care as the world blurred around him. Everything seemed to vibrate, making him uncomfortable, but hearing Tim’s voice felt like a lifeline. “Awww. Still with me, Rhys? This is a very special concoction of mine. Only my favorites ever get a taste of it… How do you feel?” Rhys gripped up into the gyroscopic vision of lights and shadows melded together. He felt the fabric of what was Timothy’s shirt, pulling him down desperately. “D-Don’t go. Don’t you dare… leave me like this…” pleaded Rhys weakly yet with a faint hint of anger. Even the mere act of putting words together had become a challenge, but the younger twin seemed to purr with delight from his answer. Rhys felt warm hands encircle his cold ones before smoothly guiding them back to the bed that he only just realized he had been placed upon. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” Tim replied as his weight was soon added atop the mattress. —End—Why do I keep envisioning that Tim just dresses Rhys like a cat? Gives him cat ears and a tail and just pets him like a madman. XD Geez. Huh. I might make the whole Rhys getting drugged to have mild amnesia an actual thing. Then Rhys starts getting slightly broken flashbacks, nightmares, and begins questioning his supposed picture perfect life with the Lawrence twins. Thanks, Anon! =D You just gave me a spot of inspiratiooooon! <3 Hope you liked your snippet!PPS: I had this written BEFORE but Tumblr cut my story out… Weird. Thankfully I saved it. Yaaay!
Fine. Here’s my attempt at trying to get back into the swing of writing some good ol fashioned serial killin’ rhack.
Rhys tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that Jack was absolutely hovering around him. It didn’t help that he was twirling a switchblade between his hands as he strolled back and forth while the auburn haired abductee was simply trying to cook some breakfast for himself. The elder twin didn’t seem too worried as he had that smug look of inevitable victory stretched across that handsome face of his.
He took a breath as an awkward sigh of sorts which, of course, garnered the older Lawrence’s swift and undivided attention.
Rhys immediately regretted having made any form of breathing at all as he was suddenly embraced from behind, none too gently. He could feel the cool blade pat along his exposed collarbone with a sick sort of play before testing itself against his adam’s apple. Rhys did everything not to gulp in panic as he held as still as possible with chin held high in alert.
“What’s the matter, Rhysie? Feeling bored? Nah. That’s not it,” Jack assured him with what had to be a malicious smile into his captive’s sweet-scented hair, “You’re just lonely. But you know, kiddo, that’s a bit of a choice on your part.”
A shiver coursed through the younger man’s arm as he felt the other’s hand slowly glide down it before interlacing their fingers together. Normally this would have given Rhys a sense of generous intimacy, but instead it made him sick to his stomach. Whatever Jack was offering… it wasn’t going to be what he thought it was.
It was never what he thought it was.
“I-I’m fine, Jack,” Rhys sputtered out barely while praying intensely in the back of his mind to not cause the older man’s temper to flare.
Jack held a grim silence behind him before slowly removing his hand at a pace that seemed to promise a bloody demise as consequence for a poorly thought out answer. Bracing himself, Rhys scrunched his eyes tightly shut only to reopen them as the warmed blade removed itself from his neck. He dropped his shoulders, scarcely having realized he had kept them so tense during the ‘attack.’ To his ‘relief,’ Jack was suddenly laughing just behind him while taking a few steps back to lean on the dining table nearby with knife still in hand.
“Hahaha!! Really? Cupcake! You’ve got a knife to against your throat and your bright idea is to say that you’re fine?”
Rhys turned to him, opening his mouth to retort with his finger in the air to make a point on to find that he had none. That response really had sounded strange… Then again, did Jack expect an honest answer? He stared back at the sociopathic murderer with heightened wariness as he kept himself against the counter.
Jack’s face had changed from a sadistic mischief to that of twisted delight which Rhys felt a regrettable heat rising in his cheeks at the sight. He had pleased Jack… and somehow by the day this was making Rhys feel… happy.
“I want you to remember that you said that, princess. Ohhh, I want you to remember that. Especially tonight. Because tonight is a special night.”
“Special?”
“Mmhmm. Very special, but you’ll see for yourself soon enough, sweetheart. Well, as long as my annoying pest of a sibling doesn’t get in the way that is but uh… considering that I broke the gas meter in the van that he’s driving right now really, really far away,” Jack gave a slight shrug with knowing laugh, “Let’s just say it should take him over a day to come back which means…?”
Jack spun his blade before halting it just in Rhys’ direction, causing the other to stiffen up where he stood.
“H-He won’t be here…”
Jack frowned with an intense dislike as if an awful odor dared contaminated the very air he breathed.
“No. Try saying that again, Rhys. But use better words this time.”
Rhys eyed him in return in total confusion. What did he mean ‘better’ words? But he knew he was under a strict time limit so he stuck to merely paraphrasing what he had said last.
“I-It’s just you and me, w-without Ti-.”
Just like that, Jack’s mood rapidly turned foul as he marched forward with the floorboards groaning warningly with each thundering step. Rhys might’ve thought to back away but he’d seen the results of what happened to Jack’s victims that moved away from him… They ended up never moving again, usually in a random ditch somewhere that was conveniently void of authorities. So Rhys held his ground despite how terrified the twin had made him.
“I-I don’t know what you want, Jack! It’s just us here!”
And again, just as if a wave of calm sincerity swept itself over the older man’s nerves, his overbearing need for violence seemed to dissipate. Instead what remained was a smile. It was the very smile thta Rhys felt horrible for having silently pined to see. It was Jack’s safe smile. The one that honored promises of protection and loyalty… as well as threats of pain and torment for those that disappointed him.
“There you go, baby… See? Was that so hard?” he teased as if he hadn’t just stalked dangerously toward Rhys only seconds ago.
Jack took Rhys’ chin between his fingers and allowed his dual colored eyes to soften. As expected, they had their inevitable effect of charming his quivering captive. It was clear manipulation. It always was, but there was always some part of it that made Rhys wish that maybe this was more than just a twisted game to the scandalously good looking hothead of a murderer standing right in front of him.
“Let’s not think of that ‘other guy’ for a little while, alright?” Jack insisted as if he were talking to a pet he had dying to have for himself for ages, “It is just us, Rhysie. We are going to have a very… very special time tonight. Isn’t that right?”
Despite his shrinking disgust for his inability to shake off Jack’s tantalizing allure, Rhys found himself humming pitifully in agreement.
AHHH! I DID IT.
I finally wrote something!! XD YAY. Hope you guys enjoyed it. Meh. It’s been a long time so. Besides, I just miss writing whatever. I’m sure there’s a mistake or two but eh... Yeah. XD
Anywho, love you guys who stuck around despite my super long hiatus. Not sure what I’ll write next but I’ll try to stick to it now that things have eased up around here. Ciao~!
Chapter 2 is up for Wanted which pretty much fuses parts 2 and 3. My guess is that I’ll be combining 4 and 5 once I get part 5 complete. Once again, there’s no way I could do this without @aceofhearts77177.
Thank you everyone for your patience with part 5. Hopefully I can get some awesome inspo this weekend.
Now if you’ll excuse me... It’s still 4 in the morning and I have a Panic At the Disco album to listen to for some serial killer Jack motivation.
All you guys that leapt up to my aid on the proofreading... Wow. You’re freaking HEROES in my book. I was so stressed out since I’m working on Spider Jack 5, Wanted 5, and God Jack 2 all at once. It’s hard AF. I’ve never stretched my creativity this wide before.
Plus @handsomepeacock just had the AUDACITY to start a sea monster revolution. [Inner Me: AHHHHHH FFFFFFUUUU-!!! *keeps flipping stuff*]
So now I just wanna write about a dolphin Jack humping a terrified shark Rhys. Because you all know that would be hilarious. (Just because sharks are scared of dolphins.)
That or orca Jack. Because like Handsome Jack, we love killer whales even though they are the absolute assholes of the ocean that really do brutally murder everything for shiggles. *sigh*
ANYWAY, back to the main topic, you guys are total gems in my book. Oh my god... I didn’t expect such an overwhelming response. I can’t use ALL of you but you best believe I might randomly contact you for advice. ;) Thank you so much for reaching out. You made today a hell of a day for me.
But stay alert, smut soldiers! I could call you to the front lines at any time!
But seriously, THANK YOU. I can’t tag every last one of you but you know who you are!!! *fists bumps* You’re all amazing.
