can you do thriller era smut with michael and the reader in a relationship and he’s super sweet but also freaky 🤭
⋆ . ࿔ ˚ thriller! mj x reader hc’s
warnings: occasional smut
- thriller!mj loves you like no other, he knows you like he knows music.. and he actually remembers everything! it could be something as simple as not enjoying tomatoes on your burger and he remembers.
- thriller!mj is always giving you verbal affection. it’s been said a lot but he also loves having his hand somewhere on you at all times.
- thriller!mj is constantly calling your damn phone, anytime he’s free michael is on your line asap
- thriller!mj enjoys when you run your fingers through his curls. when you two are having sleepovers you never pass up the opportunity to braid his beautiful curls or do little ponytails.
- thriller!mj is a fan of smothering your face with kisses, it makes his heart speed up a little faster
- thriller!mj who is constantly sending you flowers anytime he’s away on tour. once a day and if not at the end of the week he’ll send a big ass bouquet 
- thriller!mj is a PERVERT and i stand by it. he’s constantly eyeing you, brushing his bulge against your ass when passing by, slapping your ass, stealing your panties so you have to go out without them, oh the list goes on and on
- thriller!mj is also a eater like 100% he loves seeing your body from below, loves your taste, your smell, the way you twitch and whine. he can go for hours
- thriller!mj tries to do different positions with you but missionary will always be at his heart. he loves being able to kiss and pound into you at the same time. loves being able to be so close to your face and breast. chef’s kiss
- thriller!mj has a thing about phone sex. anytime he can’t be near you and he’s all horny he’ll call you up. pleading to hear your voice while you ask what’s that sloppy smacking in the background
- thriller!mj keeps nude polaroid photos of you in a secret pocket in his little wallet. it makes him feel so sneaky and gets him worked up
- thriller!mj loves dry humping your ass when there was no time for long sex or a quickie.
Ive been working on a fic ever since a few weeks before the nurse gee fic and honestly just now realized it's hot garbage... I'll see you on the next one 😭✌️(realized ts after it reached 4k words unfinished btw)
person A is playing video games....person B decides to "support" them...
in other words: freeuse and deciding to inconvenience the one that agreed to be freeuse and showing them what a mistake that was :3
🍄
Kabr0z Writes Episode 153: Wager
Find the masterlist here!
The back catalogue is (slowly) going up on Ao3!
CWs: Oral sex; freeuse; wife-swapping; implied cucking if you really think about it;
A/N: An established relationship where videogames have been mentioned, as well as elements of freeuse, and a competitive dynamic... I wonder if I have a roster of lupine brothers who can fit that bill? Oh wait. I do.
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“Ya havin’ fun there, bud?”
You leaned on the kitchen counter, overlooking the pokey living room where your brother-in-law kept getting his ass handed to him by your husband.
Tom grinned at you, taking a moment during a loading screen, “Yeah. It’s just a pity Ty here can’t figure out when he needs to dodge.”
“Hey, I resemble that remark!” Tyler was getting heated. You could see it in his face. He’d never been able to beat you either, but you didn’t rub it in quite as much as Tom does.
The next game started. Another set of three rounds. Tom let Tyler pick his fighter first, taking what you knew was a hard-counter to his pick. You grimaced, already having a good idea of which direction this would take. You weren’t wrong, Tom danced around his brother, toying with him until it looked like it would go to time before landing a crushing aerial combo that decided the round.
“Look,” Tom grinned “I'll let you have this next one, then winner takes all on round three, sound good?”
Ty wasn't listening, laying into Tom’s character while it stood still on the screen. He wasn't bad at the game, far from it, but he couldn't grok some of the techniques Tom was using against him.
Maybe you could help with that.
You stalked around to the back of the sofa, bare feet sticking slightly to the cheap laminate flooring. Leaning on the back of it just in time for Tyler to finish out the round he’d been allowed to win. One elbow either side of Tom you spoke: “Why don't we make it a little more interesting? Winner gets the girl?”
They both looked up at you. You weren't wearing much, a sports bra and a pair of Tom’s boxers. Hair tied back behind your head, the ever-present humidity in the flat leaving a shimmer of moisture on the exposed skin of your neck, your chest, your midriff. The mood changed immediately. The fraternal teasing turning to a heated contest.
The pressure of possibly having to share his favourite toy already had Tom playing worse. You could see he’d still have good odds of winning. That simply wouldn't do. You leaned down, sliding your hands down the fur covering his chest. His shorts were undone, the drawstrings hanging slack, it was all too easy to thrust a questing hand inside. Fingers closed around his sheath, meaty and hot.
“You’re not playing fair” Tom growled under his breath, just loudly enough for you to hear
“Who says I'm playing?” You whispered into the fur of his neck. You could feel him getting hard in your hands. The tip of his cock was already poking out of his sheath to greet your attention. Wrapping your hand around it, you thumbed the tip. You chuckled as his character took a hit. “Distracted are we?”
You took it slow. Stroking and squeezing. Slow pumps on his cock, drawing out groans and growls. Tom had noticed by now, surely. You could smell Tom, even with your baseliner nose, God knows what he smelled like to another lupine. Musk and sexual frustration. You took a deep breath. Your favourite scent, the perfect smell to cause some mischief.
You took your hands off him. He looked away from the screen at you, just long enough to see what you were up to, and take another hit. You were sneaking your way to the front of the sofa, dropping to all fours before perching in front of him and pulling on the shorts hiding his cock.
The air became thick. Hot and musky, even more so than normally. Tom stood at attention, even while he was slouched on the sofa. You planted kisses along his length, the shaft twitching with his heartbeat. He tensed up for a second, then sighed as the fist-sized knot at the base of his cock slipped free.
Licking from knot to tip, you tasted him. His pre was a little bitter, a little sweet, a promise of what was to come. Tom grunted, trying to focus on the game, tapping out combos while you teased his aching, throbbing cock.
It wasn't enough, he was distracted, but so was Tyler. That makes sense, watching your brother get his cock tongue-cleaned while sat next to you would put anyone off. You flashed him a look, a wink. Then you really went to work. Sealing your lips around the dripping cock in front of you, sliding your tongue around the blunt tip before starting to bob your head. The time for subtlety was over, you sucked and bobbed, looking up at Tom's face as his mouth began to hang open. Two hands, still holding a controller, landed on the top of your back. He held you down, hips thrusting up into your mouth. He was close. Trying his best to keep his attention on two things at once, but the brain in his cock was winning out.
Dimly, you heard Tyler locking in. The sounds of his character giving Tom’s a drubbing all but drowned out by the growling lupine bent double over your head, forcing his cock into your mouth, kissing the back of your throat. You wrapped a hand around the base of it, squeezing his knot.
Tom howled. His balls tightened under him, pulses of cum rushing down your throat. Bitter-sweet, thick and musky, clinging to your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, feeling some dripping from your chin and flowing out of your nose.
He collapsed, spent. Stroking your hair while you suckled the last few drops from the semi-hard cock in your hand.
“Guess I won, eh?”
Tom growled, “Give me a few minutes… Then you can have her”
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Do you want to support me writing about sucking off werewolves? Of course you do.
omg I just discovered your writing I’m in LOVE I love the way you write so much it’s so good I’m in the middle of the Jason Todd series. Can’t wait to see your future work!!
YAYYYY I AM SOOO HAPPY U LIKE IT !! 😭❤️ I am having lots of fun writing the series and hopefully it stays enjoyable till the end
So it was a normal time. You were on a busy street loud nosy all the normal stuff but at times like these it felt quite silent … it was nice. It was you and your friend out on a walk talking about hot takes! And it was your turn.
“ Valid or invalid? X is the tuff letter bc you cant cross it out! Ooo! Also that 999/33 NOT 37!’’You yelled out and then turned your head to your friend and she is just nodding.
“ Yea-“
BOO
It wasn’t like that for long soon there was an attack . That was quite rare considering it was the first time.
As a smart person would you would just run away and find a hiding spot and that is indeed what you did.
You did overhear a few things on the way like how it was the raiders and how they did this wanting to get back on the cleaners. So this was just a pitty fussy fight because those people got there buts whooped.
Mid thought you turn you head and then you see you got captured by a raider.
An extremely hot one to be sure.
“ Sir! Im innocent please put me down!” You pleaded and this dude looked annoyed.
Yeah that was not working so switch tactics. You start yapping about your life and how horrible it was. You swear you think you saw an ounce of pitty but then he covered it up real fast.
It was not working again he pulled out his staff and almost hit you! But he didnt.
“ Ha keep ya dirty mouth shut, I’ll spear you because i like ya”.
Really this dude who STINKS and is WEARING RAGS says your dirty
.
.
.
But he did say that he just liked ya so take a win i guess?
But then he went to his boss and asked if they could keep you as a hostage to get back on the cleaners.
Ohh was this gonna be fun!
Note: here you go it’s different from how I usually write tell me if you like it and here you guys go!
Opph yeah um those valid and invalid things jokes were not mine they were inspired by this dude that is really funny!
Pssst! Good day to you undead they/them swagger!! (Sorry I couldn’t think of a cooler name)
im not quite sure if you still write but if you do may I ask you to write a bit about my idea? I was kinda fever dreaming when this came to me but what if you were summoned by a cult in some sort of ritual and the followers then just all took turns filling you to appease a fertility god or similar as part of the ritual or whatever… maybe with a hint of non-con?
yummy yummy, kind regards, gambler.
Kabr0z Writes Episode 252: Summoned
Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!
And the back catalogue on Ao3!
CWs: noncon; group sex; restraints; physical pain; religious themes; vague cosmic horror themes
A/N: I am still writing! The pacing rather fell off a cliff after I got promoted late last year so I have a little less mental energy after work than I used to, but I still endeavour to get between 1 and 2 episodes out per week!
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You sat on the lawn. Humming cicadas filled the thick, early evening air. Something tall, cold, and very alcoholic in your hand. It might have a name, you don't know it. What's important is it's keeping the worst of the heat off. An identical house to yours stood across the road. An identical lawn out front, flanked by yet more carbon copies. Wooden-framed detached properties each with their own quarter acre of lawn to mow and maintain upon pain of a rat-faced septuagenarian inspecting your garden with a ruler.
Your own little slice of Suburban hell, nestled amongst thousands of others.
Something changed in the buzzing around you. A deep, basal note rumbling from the sky. You looked up from your book, the sky was as cloudless as it had been all week. Clear and inky blue in the fading daylight. It definitely wasn't thunder. Neither was it the wind whipping your hair around your head. You stood. A gale whirling around you without stirring a single blade of grass. The air becoming charged, every hair on your arms and head standing on end.
The rumble became a roar. Whirling winds howled around you.
A flash. A bang.
Gone was the summer heat, the fading daylight, the grass underfoot. You fell through blackness. Perfect dark after the evening light. Not even stars to orient yourself. Just the stomach-turning weightlessness of freefall.
Until it wasn't. You landed like a feather, a cold stone room lit by flickering torches. You looked around, masked men stared at you from the edges of the room. A chalk sigil decorated the ground where you stood, extinguished candles spaced around the rim.
“Wait.” You'd never been into occultism, but you're not quite that dense “Have I been summoned? Like with a spell or some shit?”
One of the men, the one with the most ornate mask, decorated with horn and ivy, stopped forward “Behold! The first supplicant chosen by the Great Virgil!” He gestured to a statue behind you, a woman rendered in gold, one hand buried in her breast, the other buried between her legs. Some plumbing kept a thin flow of liquid dripping from the intricately modelled labia, her propped-up leg exposing them to the viewer.
Pretty gauche, all told.
You couldn't stop the laugh. A short, half-choked snort as you turned back to the man. “Alright. Fun’s over. I have no idea how you pulled off the special effects but I'm not buying it. How the hell are you planning on getting her past the censors either? Not exactly daytime TV” you gestured to the statue.
Nobody else seemed amused. The men took a step forward. Four of them in total, including Mr. Fancy Mask.
Fancy Mask spoke again “In this, the turn of the seasons, we ask Virgil for prosperity. We ask Virgil for a strong harvest. We ask Virgil that our seeds find root, and that the ground be fertile.” He raised his hands. A staff appeared in one, levelled to point directly at you. “We take this offering, in thy name. Let the ceremony begin!” His arms raised again.
The men dove on you.
They wrestled you to the ground, kicking over candles to clatter on the ground, tearing at your clothes and pinning your limbs to the cold, hard tiles. You tried to wrench your limbs away from them, straining muscles burning with exertion.
It was no use. One on each side, holding you down, spreading your limbs over the circle on the ground. Chalk dust staining their robes, only their eyes visible under the masks, flicking between your face, and the still-standing cultist looming over you. His robes parted in the front, revealing the lower half of his torso and the lack of any underwear. He fell upon you, his body weighing you down. Holding his cock in one hand, propping himself up with the other, he thrusted against you.
Without any preparation, he wasn’t making much progress. You were dry as a bone, and being held down wasn’t doing anything for you. That didn’t do anything to curb his enthusiasm, and before long his panting turned to grunting, the head of his cock rubbing between your folds without penetrating. He held himself against you for a moment, hips shaking. Hot cum painted your entrance, thick and sticky, barely getting inside.
He stayed a moment, whispering something under his breath. Then he switched places with another cultist, holding down your ankle while the next man took position. The next one pushed against you, using the slick load of cum to bury himself inside. You grit your teeth, struggling anew against the weight of the men.
Above you, overseeing it all, the statue stood.
Clamping a hand over your mouth, the man violated you. Burying himself in your cunt, staring into your eyes. Cold blue eyes, the only part of his face you could see, twisted with desire and intent. His movements were forceful, driving into you with little regard to your comfort. Hips slapping against yours. Cock driving into the soft flesh of your cunt, the little lubrication provided by the first man not doing much to ease the friction. Again, his heavy breathing became hinged with vocalisations, wordless expressions of proximity. The thrusting became erratic, faster and rougher before he hilted himself in you. You could feel his manhood twitching inside you, warmth spreading from the tip as he left his seed in you.
Again, muttered words before he pulled out and switched places. Again, another man taking you. The lubrication of his fellow’s cum making it easy to slide into your stretched-out hole. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, so deep it made you gag. Every sound of discomfort or strain that escaped you made him throb inside you. Every whine or sob is greeted by a stinging slap across your face.
By the time he was done, you were covered in bruises. Your body ached from exertion. By the time they let go you didn't have the energy to struggle any more. The man in the fancy mask said something, you didn't hear what.
The statue stared down at you. Hand buried almost to her wrist inside herself. Glistening. Wet. Golden. Serene.
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What's this? Is it a tip jar? I think it might be!
