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Is it bad I love religious guilt OTW/Thriller Michael Jackson? He finds you so gorgeous and you turn him on all the time and he really wants to have sex with you but he's still struggling with his religious views around sex.
i’m gon speak my mind proudly, fuck it we ball: michael deepening his thrusts into you, it started with a playful conversation with your friends on how he couldn’t handle you, right in front of him. michael got quieter as he stared at you, his hand resting on your thigh, rubbing it slowly while his thigh pressed into your skin to remind you to calm down. when the two of you got back home, he got you on your back in your shared bedroom, your pretty pussy glistening as his pre-cum drips into his condom while he lubed you both up. michael’s already a whimpering and moaning mess the minute he slides his dick in your folds, feeling you tighten around him. “that’s it mama, such a good girl.” he whispers as he leans forward, his chest hard on your back as your nipples brush up and down on the bed, making your clit twitch. his thick fingers move to it, circling your clit around while he begins to pick up his thrusts. your moans echo through the room and into the vents of the house. a part of him feels ashamed for treating you this way, but his jalousy clouds his judgement so much. “fuck, mikey!” you plead as you cry and grip the sheets. “i got you, it’s okay, it’s okay sweet girl. it’s okay.” he coos at you, his girthy dick staying hard the more you squeeze around him and your ass presses onto his hips. skin to skin, the way michael likes it. he’s such a secret freak and you’re learning that more.
⋆˙⟡ — Just thinking about him being the gentleman he is, he would most definitely buy you a birken gift just because, or buy you one because you saw it somewhere.
Today, Michael planned a little getaway vacation for the two of you, just relaxing on a yacht in a different country. But, of course, this all had to be planned beforehand since he was a busy man.
Even though he loved his music career, nothing else would come before you and him having quantity time.
You were in front of the yacht dancing and swaying your waist because of how happy you were to finally get away with your boyfriend—on a yacht! The yacht had a bunch of champagne, of course, you only drank it because Michael was a wine kind of guy.
He was approaching you with a soda can and a straw, sipping away as he had his hand behind his back. "y'look good up there," he said as he bit his bottom lip, and you came down from dancing.
You hopped down, still singing the lyrics of your favorite song playing in the back, and then gave him a kiss on the lips as your arm was wrapped around his neck.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" you asked him as you leaned back to look him in his eyes. He tucked his chin as he laughed, then gave you a nod—you were wondering what was so funny, but then you noticed that one hand was holding your waist, as it always does.
"What's funny?" he said as you followed his head going downward, then stepped back while still holding your drink. He put his soda can down on the floor next to him and paused for a second.
You knew something was serious because his smile started to fade, maybe because he was trying to make you seem like he was taking it more seriously than he actually was.
"So, you know that I love you right?" he said with a nervous smirk. You started to look around at the ocean before you looked back at him, and set your cup down on the cushion next to you. "y-yeah..?" You felt yourself about to tear up because you thought he was about to pop the big question.
"Are you 'bout to propose?!" You said as you covered your mouth, as you stomped your feet on the floor. "Sh, sh, sh-" Michael hushed you as he sensed you were getting very excited but very emotional.
"I love you so so so so so much, and I would honestly give you the world and more. And even though this gift cost me a couple thousands s'ok because I can always make more money for both of us.
Your heart was beating through your chest, your face felt hot as your eyebrows were lifting from the realization that no one else has done this much for you. Michael will make sure his baby is alright and is cared for.
"Michael- oh my gosh." You instantly started breaking down in your hands when you covered your face and bent over. "No, no, get up, baby," he rubbed on your back to encourage you to stand up straight. You stood back up, moving the hair out of your face, and fanned your face from how hot you were getting.
You took another deep breath, but then felt yourself wanting to cry even harder. "For the sake of your makeup, Imma just give you the gift. You have been bothering me about this forever, so here you go, baby.
He took the bag from behind, and immediately, when you saw the orange box come from behind him, you knew exactly what it was.
a birkin
You screamed and jumped up and down out of pure joy. "MIKEYYYY—A BIRKIIIINNNN!!!!!" You embraced him in a tight hug as you were still jumping up and down. You grabbed the box and opened it, and saw the pretty purse with snake skin-like material. You were gobsmacked because you were a now, a Birkin baby.
"Oh, I'm marrying you for this one," you said as you kissed him all over his face. "oh my goodnessss, thank you so much loveyyy!" You jumped up and down once again while holding your bag tight in your hand.
And you went to the front of the yacht and screamed out, "I GOT ME A BIRKIN BABBYYYYYY!!!" You twerked a bit out of excitement, then came back to Michael to kiss him again.
"We're going to have the best vacation everrrrr!" you told him as you were showing all 32.
━ ˙⋆✮ SUMMARY: michael can’t stop filming everything with his new video camera, including you.
━ ˙⋆✮ CONTENT: 18+, mdni, established relationship, we makin a sex tape y’all, michael pussy-drunk and telling the reader how pretty she is, use of the pet name angel a lot sorry, unprotected sex (not smart don’t do that), fuckin on the floor no decorum smh, praise kink, eye contact!!, soft dom/cocky michael, creampie
━ ˙⋆✮ AUTHOR’S NOTE: i typically write subby michael bc that just feels right to me BUT i thought it would be fun to experiment with a more playful/soft dom version of him for this one. idk i think if he got really comfortable with you he’d tease the shit outta you…. i’m talking borderline annoying likeeee please just shut up and gimme that dick
Michael’s camcorder covers half of his face, trembling fingers clasping desperately against the plastic exterior as he works hard to keep it pointed at you.
Maybe his hands are shaking from nerves, or maybe it’s because he’s fighting against every last drop of restraint left in his body while your hips roll painfully slow over his as you ride him on the plush carpet of his bedroom floor.
It was your idea— filming the two of you in such an intimate setting.
You’d spent days watching Michael get all wide-eyed and giddy as he captured every little moment on his new video camera. He took it everywhere, becoming somewhat of an amateur filmmaker as he directed everyone around him, taping the most mundane moments.
Even when it was just the two of you, the camera stayed glued to his hand.
The late afternoon sun slipped through his curtains as you sat in his bedroom, thumbing through a stack of records. You thought you were finally safe from your boyfriend’s constant need to document his every move, when the realization hit you— you were being watched.
The albums at your fingertips stilled as you gazed up, noticing the red light glaring in the distance.
Your eyes found Michael’s through the lens of his camera— always filming.
He smiled from behind the bulky machine as you waved, giggles bubbling under your breath at your precious boyfriend who thought you searching through his music collection was something worth documenting.
And for him it really was.
But seeing the way his curls fell against his forehead while he focused on your every move through the viewfinder, his slender fingers curving and gripping at the camera as he kept you in his sight, gave you other ideas.
You’d thought about it last week; using his camcorder to film the two of you having sex.
His head was buried in the crook of your neck kissing and sucking, while his breath got heavier against your skin with every thrust of his hips.
And when his hand fought between your bodies to rub tight circles into your clit, your back arched in a way you didn’t even know was possible, pressing your cheek even further into the satin pillowcase beneath your head.
You felt a familiar coil tightening deep in your abdomen, but were met with a familiar sight when you opened your eyes, momentarily distracting you from the orgasm curling at your toes.
Sitting on the bedside table, his video camera was pointed toward you, completely shut off, and yet, your body went numb at the thought of the little red recording light turning on.
You imagined it capturing the lewd sounds Michael was making into your neck, and the image of your heaving bodies meshing together— all slick and sweaty.
The thought of filming such a filthy thing, having it on tape for just the two of you; it was hot. So hot, that the notion of it sent you right over the edge.
Michael was too busy moaning into your shoulder about how good you felt to notice your gaze locked on his favorite new toy.
You grasped at his back, nails digging into his skin as the most pathetic whines fell from your lips.
From that moment on you could barely look at it the same.
Every time he held the camcorder in front of his face, gentle hands keeping it steady, and the corner of his smile peeking out from behind it— your skin got hot.
But each time you thought you could work up the courage to tell him about your little fantasy, a twinge of embarrassment kept the words from leaving your mouth.
Michael was just so private. You couldn’t imagine he’d want to film something that personal.
So, for the sake of avoiding rejection, you kept your desire to be filmed confidential.
But it was especially hard to keep your dirty little secret in instances like this: him taping when it was just the two of you alone.
It would be so easy to ask him, so easy to set the camera on any surface in his room and angle it just right, letting it capture every second as you had your way with each other.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You never could.
Settling for a bashful smile in his direction, the tension fueled by forbidden thoughts pulled at your cheekbones as he caught each tweak of your expression on his camera.
“You’re so funny with that thing.” You went back to the albums at your fingers, flipping one after another looking for the perfect soundtrack to accompany the setting sun outside the window.
“How?” He kept the camcorder in front of his face, still rolling, as his question slipped past his grin.
You didn’t answer, shaking your head with a smirk of your own as you kept your hands busy with the records.
“Because I wanna record my girl?” His voice was sweet, carrying across the room with a quiet confidence that made your breath hitch.
If he wanted to record you so bad, maybe he wouldn’t turn down the depraved idea that kept rolling around in your head-
“Maybe I want something to watch when I’m away. When I miss you.” the camera was still recording, and you had to force your fingers to keep moving through the vinyls, because the way his voice got all low and soft threatened to make your entire body freeze.
Your chest swelled thinking about him watching these moments when he was halfway across the world; simple tapes of you doing absolutely nothing in his room— something to remind him what’s waiting back home.
But then your mind wanders as you think about him missing you in a different way.
The nights when he’s alone in a hotel room somewhere, with his hand wrapped around his dick and his eyes squeezed shut, picturing your naked body on the back of his eyelids.
The nights when it’s already morning back in California and he knows you’re too busy to talk on the phone.
The nights when he needs just a little something more than his imagination to fall asleep.
And you could help him with that.
Right now.
With his video camera you could offer a little keepsake for him to take on tour, something for him to keep hidden away until he needed it most. Something for his eyes only that would make his cheeks burn when he remembered it was tucked deep inside the front pocket of his carry on.
“You’d do that? Watch tapes of me while you’re away?” You try your best to keep the sultry curiosity out of your voice as you stare down at your hands that have definitely stopped moving.
“Of course baby.”
The camera lowers just enough for his stare to meet yours and his eyes are too warm and gentle. If only he knew the thoughts clouding your brain right now.
“That’s sweet.” Your smile barely reaches your cheeks before the camera is back in front of his face, capturing your response.
“Michael?”
“Hmm?”
A surge of courage, or more likely lust, rushes through your chest as you watch him hum in response, his lips lightly pressing together.
“Could you kiss me?”
The camera lowers, his eyes visible to you again.
“Baby you don’t have to ask-“
He pulls the camcorder down completely, his lips pulling into a full fledged smile as his finger hovers over the button to turn it off-
“With the camera on.”
His body goes still.
You’re staring at him, watching his smile settle into his cheeks, lips parted just enough for his breathy response to slip past them.
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t turn off the video camera.
“I could do that.”
Instead he places it carefully on the edge of his bed, making sure it’s pointed directly at you. Adjusting it inch by inch, his eyes bounce between the picture of you in his camera, and your eyes locked on him just a few feet away.
It nestles perfectly against his comforter as he makes his way across the floor, kneeling beside you without saying a single word.
He looks a little uncertain and for a minute you regret putting him in this situation, but then his hand finds your jaw, pulling you closer until your lips meet.
The movement of his mouth against yours is slow and careful, but there’s a hunger in the way his hands find your waist, grabbing and pulling you into him— eager.
The kiss deepens but there’s a slight hesitation in his touch as his fingers linger at the hem of your t-shirt.
“We can stop.”
The offer is abrupt as you pull back just enough for your words to land on his lips: swollen, parted, and fighting a tender smile.
“The camera- I mean. We can stop recording.”
“D’ya want that?” His voice was quiet, eyes intense as he searches your expression for the answer to his question.
You’re unable to look him in the eyes, attention falling to the ground as you try to pry the word “yes” from somewhere deep in your throat where it’s refusing to leave.
“Angel…”
You can’t see his face, but the nickname floats through the air in a low chuckle.
He’s amused.
“Don’t.” Your chest is hot and there’s a slight pang of humiliation— or maybe annoyance— swimming in your voice as you keep your eyes trained on the floor.
“Look at me baby.”
You can hear the smile behind his words as his fingertips find your jaw, pulling your gaze forward.
“My angel wants to be filmed?”
“Mikey.”
He’s holding your face in his hands making it impossible for you to look away.
And he’s grinning.
“Tell me.” His words are taunting, seeping with a discreet kind of arrogance.
You shake your head, physically unable to pull the words from your mouth.
“C’mon, gotta tell me what you want.”
“I wanna record it.” You find your voice, pulling it from your throat and shoving it past your lips.
“I want you to have a tape— of us.”
You wish you didn’t sound so timid as you watched the smile push against his cheeks.
“Doing what?”
He’s smug now, biting at his lower lip to keep his smirk from growing.
“Michael.”
He raises a brow and suddenly you remember all of this is being captured by the camera perched on his bed.
“Wanna make a video of us fucking Mikey.” Your voice drops to a low whisper and you can feel him tense up at the indecent language dripping from your lips.
“So you can watch it when you miss me.” You throw his earlier statement back at him, only this time, the intention behind the words is far more perverted.
“Would that be okay?”
Now you’re teasing, trailing your fingers up the nape of his neck, wrapping them gently in his curls.
His answer is delivered in the quick grip of his hands on your hips, fingers sliding past your t-shirt and onto your skin.
His touch is everywhere: hands roaming your stomach, pressing flat against your lower back to push you further into him as your lips find each other in an all consuming heat.
It’s a sweltering frenzy of newfound corruption with both of your fighting to free yourselves from the layers of clothing that kept your skin from touching.
The flames of anticipation grew hotter with every article that hit the floor— the gentle reminder of your on-screen debut flashing red in your peripheral vision.
The camera sat nice and neat on the edge of Michael’s bed, recording as your bodies moved in a desperate rhythm.
Your lips were still attached when his fingers ran along the waistband of your panties.
“You sure?” His voice was muffled into the kiss, too quiet for his camcorder to pick up.
You pulled back, legs straddling his hips as you reached toward the bed.
You grabbed the camera, handing it to him, red light still blinking.
He held it out in his palm, unsure of what you were doing, until you moved his hand, guiding the camera to its habitual position in front of his face, letting him do what he’s been doing for weeks— record you.
“Oh, Angel.”
The groan falls from his lips as he leans back, one hand keeping the camera secure at his face, the other sitting flat against the carpet.
And while he looks for you in the view finder, you tug his underwear down his thighs, not even bothering to push them all the way off his legs.
You think about wrapping a hand around his length, stroking him a few times for the sake of his later-viewing pleasure.
But you were too impatient— willing to skip foreplay in exchange for the satisfaction of feeling him deep inside you.
You pull your panties aside just enough to feel him dip into the slick mess pooling at your center.
His breath hitched.
You were wet. It was rare that you could get this worked up from him barely touching you, and even more unlikely that you’d be ready to take him without the stretch of his fingers first.
But as you sunk down, it became increasingly evident just how much you wanted this— how much you’d thought about him filming you.
“That’s good angel.” His praise chokes out between sighs.
You’re whining as he fills you completely, every inch of him tucked away and pulsing against your walls.
Your eyes had been shut, soaking in the stretch as you slid down, but now, you looked directly at the lens in front of you, eyelids heavy and lips parting as you rolled your hips over his.
“Angel.” This time the word is a complete and utter whimper.
“You look s’pretty like that.” He’s cooing under his breath, as you keep eye contact with him through the camera.
His dick presses somewhere real deep making your lashes flutter and your brows pull together.
His fingertips dig into the carpet, and you can tell his need to touch you is agonizing, but the angle is too good. The point of view from his camera, the way he’s stroking into you at just the right spot; all of it forcing him to stay put— driving his hand even further into the ground to hold himself steady.
It’s a slight shift when pans the camera down, but the action has you going dizzy.
The camcorder is focused between your bodies, perfectly capturing the view of your pussy hugging him in.
You make a show of it, lifting up just enough for the camera to catch a glimpse of the creamy ring of arousal building at the base of his cock, before burying yourself back down on him. Bouncing nice and slow, watching the way his brows furrow from behind the camera.
It startles you when he shifts beneath you, abruptly leaning over to put the camera back in its original position, tossing it on the bed and pointing toward you, still recording.
He’s still inside you, his hands gripping your body, everywhere— desperate to touch you, to hold you.
You rock your hips into his at a quicker pace, fingers tugging at his hair.
“You like this.” His statement is almost incriminating as it melts through his smile pressing beneath your jaw.
Your hips stutter; skin going warm at his sultry accusation.
Before you can respond his voice drops lower, humming into your neck, “I like it too.”
He holds onto your hips steady, fucking up into you— deprived and impatient.
The pleasure is blinding and you can feel your body tensing under his fingertips.
“Mikey I’m close.”
You’re whining into the air, and the broken groans falling into your shoulder tell you he’s not far from his own release.
He kisses back up your neck, sloppy and quick before bringing his face back to yours.
“Look at me baby.”
With gentle fingertips, he holds your jaw in his hand, stroking a careful thumb across your cheek to coax your eyes open.
“Wanna see you.”
Your lashes flutter, eyes opening with heavy lids and a completely fucked-out gaze.
“My pretty girl.” His compliment yanks at the thin string of composure pulling tight in your stomach and you can’t stop the waves of relief from washing over you as it snaps.
The orgasm induced high clouding your brain sends a filthy request to your lips,
“Want you to cum inside Mikey…”
His hands stiffen, but his pupils grow wide, laced with something more than hunger— greed.
“Please please please.” The word is a breathless whimper ringing out over and over again, pussy sensitive and throbbing as your hips roll languidly against him.
The pathetic sound of your begging is all it takes for Michael to hold you close as he spills into you.
Burying into your chest, his lips press against your sternum muffling the desperate sounds seeping from his throat. Each little gasp melts into your skin while your hands tangle into his hair.
You gently play with his curls, wrapping them around your fingertips as you hear his breath soften under your touch.
He’s almost giggling when his voice finally becomes clear again, still purring into your bare chest, “That was filthy.”
He pulls back just enough to catch you peering down at him, both of you wide-eyed and grinning.
“Bet you’ll appreciate it when you’re all worked up a million miles away.”
Your fingers are still threading through his hair, attempting to remedy the mess you’ve made from all the grabbing and tugging.
“Bet I will.”
He’s got that look on his face of sheer joy. Smile digging deep against his cheekbones and his eyes washed over with pure bliss as he looks up at you.
His body shifts and he reaches for the camcorder on his bed, turning it off before wiggling his brows at you, smiling so big dimples press into his cheeks, “Might even have to watch it right now.”
if you ever doubt that your ao3 comments matter or mean something: i have been struggling with my writing for 6 months straight, crying myself to sleep afraid that i will never be able to write again, that the thing i love most in the world has left me, that my writing is just gone
this morning i got this comment:
and after i stopped blubbering over it, i picked up my writing notebook, and re-read all my fic research, and opened up my document again for the first time in weeks without being afraid of it
you have no idea how much writers treasure every single comment we get. you have no idea how big an impact you can have. sometimes, just sometimes, your one "insignificant" comment changes everything
