“I think we’re gonna have to kill this guy”
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“I think we’re gonna have to kill this guy”
rocky not enjoy short king status, statement.
okay but jack also popping in and out of robby's house as he's gone, and he and dennis get closer and start sleeping together, and they both know robby wont come back without an incentive...
so one night jack pins dennis down on the bed and ties him up- collared, gagged, arms bound behind his back and thighs tied to his shins to keep his legs bent and spread so he's nice and exposed. the finishing touch is a pretty silver cock cage around dennis.
and then? Jack gives him a little photo shoot as he's sniffling and moaning behind the gag. every angle, up close and full body shots, etc etc..
each time dennis whimpers for touch, jack leans down and says he needs to be a patient boy. if they want robby to come back and be in this bed with them? if dennis wants robby to fuck him and love on him? then he needs to be a good boy and let jack take some pretty, pretty photos.
before jack sent them off, he threw in a picture of his own cock too, thick and heavy in his hand, leaking pre cum, letting robby know "there's something waiting for you at home, brother. don't let me take more than my fair share..."
robby is eight hours away, but he makes the journey in six. his helmet is on. he's got something to get back to.
ew ew ew ew ew ew ewwwwww
“trios never work out-”
you’re right.
they don’t.
Thank you so much for your Kø-fi request Hero of Warriors!!
I will take up any chance to draw Fierce Diety, but don’t worry, I’ll be drawing more of Wars at some point~ ^^)7 💕
apex predator
again i ponder on pervy thriller! michael && la toya’s bsf!reader walk with me (18+) TW: slight bladder play!!
⟡ ۫ . 🧁 — slumber parties are a common ritual between you and la toya, i mean she lives in a huge home why not stay over! and janet doesn’t always wanna do the more traditionally girly things la toya wants to do, and with a house full of men she sick of this overbearing amount of testosterone. lucky for you, michael’s her favorite, so he’s almost like the third part of the party. it’s often the three of you work as a trio, even more often that you always somehow end up primarily with michael.
you could be changing into your pajamas for the night in one of the guest bathrooms and forget to close the door all the way, and he’s desperate to get the slightest glimpse. i mean anything, a thigh, your stomach, the curve of your ass. he’ll take anything, and he’s frantically glancing behind his shoulder in hopes he doesn’t get caught. head bobs around in hopes he can get a better look, bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth in anticipation. little does he know, you can feel him watching. michael’s always had an intense stare, so why not put on a bit of a show??
and later in the evening he thinks he’s in the clear until you, la toya, michael and marlon are watching a movie and marlon leans close to michael’s ear “did you get a good look earlier.” and michael genuinely forgets that he was peeping earlier. with a confused look he asks what marlon is talking about. and his eyes shift towards you on the couch, snuggled up with toya.
⟡ ۫ . 🧁 — something i had already noticed but was soon emphasized when i was searching for photos/videos, HE’LL KISS ANYBODYYYY. i do think he’d be a victim of being slutted out, but we’ll discuss that another time.
he loves to steal kisses, and pose it as something innocent. whenever he’s greeting you he’ll always press a kiss a little too close to your lips, and the thing about michael is most times he’s so annoyingly obvious. grip low on your hips, and his large palms take up so much space on your back, the hugs always linger a tad bit longer than they should. and of course his siblings notice it, and they just smirk amongst each other observing from afar.
or a brother will dare him to kiss you, knowing the two of you are into each other, and michael does it. i feel like kissing and hand holding are his weak spots in general. it’s truly the smaller things for him.
⟡ ۫ . 🧁 — he’s a pincher, a grabber, and a tickler. he’s loves to poke and prod at people in general, but especially you. so it’s not uncommon to see the two of you share a tickle fight on his bed or on the living room couch, in this particular moment it’s his bedroom floor.
watching you squirm and wiggle beneath him, hands desperately grabbing at his wrists in a weak attempt to push him off but to no success. he’s feeling so hard and so heavy it’s painful. tears are prickling your eyes, your grin is playful and wide, your thighs jiggle whenever you’re moving them around it an attempt to escape, but his fingers continue to find that sweet spot that makes your stomach tense. you try to get him back but he’s too skilled, suspiciously good at this.
your bladder can’t withstand this continual abuse, aware of your plea of severely needing the restroom, a devious gleam glazes over his widened irises. his eyes instinctively dart towards the swell of your thighs, you’re clenching. a terrible pursue at trying to hold it in.
his tickling hold a heavier hand now, and all of its weight presses directly on your bladder. the new pressure placed against your abdomen makes you mewl, and the eye contact the two of you share after is piercing.
⟡ ۫ . 🧁 — i’d like to assume like most, michael has a lot of empathy for people, he’s always been someone that feels deeply. he’s the tyler where if someone else is crying, he’ll more than like end up sharing those tears. but, in this specific circumstance—the tears bring him a sense of possessive relief.
michael secretly loves whenever you experience a break up, yes on one hand it’s torturous for him to witness someone he cares for so deeply feel so torn. on the other hand the result of needing to comfort you is something he truly enjoys doing.
you’re overly affectionate and clingy after a heart break, sometimes spending weeks at hayvenhurst. you’re whiny, and distraught, often sporting a puffy, teary eyed face that makes him a lot more excited than he’d openly admit. you’re crying into his lap, slaty tears pool into a wet spot on his pants.
and now you have yet another reason to whine cause you’ve soiled michael’s pants, you mindlessly aim to wipe the stain away with the palm of your hand, but you’re quick to realize how pointless that is. simultaneously michael is battling every muscle in his being not to jerk against you, he squeezes his eyes shut when the weight of your head returns to his lap. his hips are twitching and he’s pathetically trying to control his breath and keep a poker face, praying you haven’t caught wind of the annoyingly obvious lump in his jeans.