Name: yuu (totally not inspired by that one character from stars align...)
Age: 19
She/they/he
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This blog is just me posting about what I'm thinking about in the moment. (Mostly being horny over MJ)
My posts might be suggestive a lot of the time, so MINORS DNI.
☆ Don't come here if you're: racist, homo/transphobic, rude in general
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♡ Interests: drawing, reading, obsessing over my fav characters and music
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♡ I might add onto this as I forget things about myself. It's my first time using tumblr to post, so pls be patient w me as I only started using this app like a year ago🙏
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I hope this was helpful in getting to know me a little better!
come to think of it, michael biopic has grossed 1 billion, on 13 july, the day where michael was supposed to host “this is it” tour, he kept his promise… michael came back for us!!
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 : mature era mj! nipple play, lactation, feminization, michael has a vagina! and breasts!, x reader/unnamed character, penetration, breeding talk, not proofread!
michael has always felt insecure about his breasts.
usually an omegas tits would puff up with milk during pregnancy to accommodate their newborn pups.
his, however, seemed to swell whenever he was incredibly aroused. he'd often come home with small stains on his shirt from the leakage after recieving spicy texts from his boyfriend, embarrassment following him like a rain cloud.
and they would hurt, his delicate fingers would press around the tender skin for relief and he'd sigh at the lukewarm milk that trickled down his plush stomach.
but that was before his boyfriend became his mate, his alpha.
his alpha loves everything about michael, including his swelling breasts.
the couple barely had time to be intimate anymore with the kids around 24/7 and michael's full attention to their needs. but when they would go to their grandmother's for the day, they just had to indulge on the opportunity. . .
in the blink of an eye, the horny couple moved to the couches, leaving a trail of their clothes behind.
michael is kneeled on the couch, slender thighs spread open with need. he moaned and pulled his laced panties to the side, exposing his open folds lubricated with slick. his alpha growled and used two fingers to tease at the entrance that was throbbing, begging to be filled. "what do you want baby? i'll give you anything you need once i hear the words" he grunted while pumping his throbbing knot.
"alpha please! please fill my cunt with your knot, breed me once more..." michael babbled, drool falling from his pink lips.
his alpha hummed and rubbed his knot around in the omega's natural lubricant, slapping the older's lips with the head of his cock to savor the sticky substance. michael's head was shaking in need, saying his alpha's name followed by, "breed me...breed me..please.." under his breath like a mantra.
the younger finally lined up with michael's gaping entrance. he gently pushed inside the plush walls, michael's back arching immediately at the intrusion. once he entered fully, before moving, the alpha pulled him off to change the position.
now, with michael sitting facing his alpha he sank down onto his knot once more. he bounced with fervor and need as his alpha also thrusted up into him.
michael moaned softly against his alphas lips as they kissed. the perfect dance of tongues causing a fire to erupt in his core. the omega can already feel his breasts getting heavy with nectar, mewling at the uncomfortable feeling and need for milking.
the omega's spotted arms were around the younger's neck, his perfect breasts bobbing up and down with him.
the alpha was mesmerized.
his omega's breasts were heavy and puffy, nipples an angry red. lovely milk was dripping from his orifice, begging to be drank.
the alpha did not waste any time bringing michael's tit into his mouth as he gently massaged the other. warm milk flooded onto his tongue, liquid falling between his fingers on the other. michael gasped in relief, letting his needy whines echo through the house.
the alpha lapped at the tender bud before giving the same attention to the other sore breast. goosebumps littered the omega's arms from the pleasure and alleviation.
his alpha gripped at michael's thighs, lifting the omega to lay onto the couch, one leg hooked over his shoulder as the younger plunged deeper into michael's greedy hole.
the alpha moved one of michael's hands to his own stomach, "feel angel, feel how deep my knot fills you. if i burst your stomach will fill with my seed and fertilize your womb. is that what you want? to be pregnant with my pups again, so that your fans know you're a cock dumb omega?"
michael's cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the thought of all the fans seeing his swollen stomach after just giving birth a year ago. his body reacted before his slack mouth could, breasts swelling once more at the mere thought.
"alpha i want to be stuffed with your pups, please..nah!" michael couldnt even finish his sentence when he felt his alpha's knot burst, locking them together tightly. the omega came at the feeling of fullness, a high pitched yell escaping at the new tightness in his pussy.
the omega smiled contently, belly full and satiated. he shifted to lay on top of his loving alpha who peppered his face with kisses and kissed around his now bruised breasts. "guess we'll have to tell the kids about baby number four..." michael joked with a giggle and looked up at the younger, shifting his hips to get comfortable.
his alpha hissed due to the tenderness of his knot and replied snarkily, "well if you dont be careful we might have triplets with how many times i'll knot you"
the omega only blushed and shifted his hips again as much as he could, sealing his fate for the rest of the day. . .
ㅤ𓏵♡ㅤ .⋆ . ֗ ۪ . ׂ ˚
im hoping to lengthen these as i continue practicing my writing! lmk what you think >< i love needy mj~ . . . effie
Michael Jackson x Unnamed Black Original Male Character
Stars are born and they die. The tide crashes against the shore. Michael is in love and Michael is loved back.
bottom/sub!michael, self worth issues, angst, hurt/comfort, feelings realization, lots of praise, lots of kissing, 1993 grammys, dangerous!era
It begins with a scarf. It's a lovely scarf; maroon and soft and dotted with little white flowers. Michael lets the fabric cinch and bunch up around his fingers. One of his staff wordlessly handed him the box he'd pulled it out of, eyes widening at something so simple. It's delicate and Michael can't help the way he brings it up to his cheek to rub it against the side of his face like he's a cat, head butting against the pant leg of its owner. And the way the scent hits him—it's all at once. The cologne is faint, perhaps too faint to even be barely noticeable but the moment Michael recognized it he continued pushing his face into the fabric, eyes now closed, grabbing the fabric tightly and subsequently placing it in the back of one of his many closets once he realized how enthralled he had become.
Then it's a cat—a kitten, actually. Janet is beaming as she gently hands the tiny thing to him, gesturing to the small note carefully folded underneath the collar around its neck. Michael places the kitten down to quickly read it.
A sign of good luck.
Michael picked the kitten back up to examine her. She's a calico, her eyes are a brilliant blue and she squirms in his hold. Michael can only blink in disbelief, immediately knowing who had given her to him. He isn't upset. He could use the company. He names her Patches.
Two weeks later it's a bouquet of flowers and the next month it's a bottle of white wine.
Michael is stunned. To his staff, it's nothing. To them, it's simply fan mail. But to Michael, it's someone from the past. A friend? He likes to think so.
He furrows his eyebrows.
A lover?
His teeth worry into his bottom lip. He hopes not. Michael is stuck between a limbo of lies and the window of truth.
****
He's forgotten about it. But not really. It's stuck there, in the back of his mind. He hugs Janet as he walks on stage; the Grammys are complicated for him, but he doesn't worry about it. He can feel the sparkle of his ivory coat glint in the corner of his eyes, pearls shimmering underneath harsh lighting. Even through the tears, the yells, the hollers of I love you, Michael cannot shake the fact that the world turns its back on him. It's confusing. He thinks of the gifts he received—almost as if he's being courted. How silly, he thinks, the award clutched tightly between his fingers.
He sees Him in the crowd as his speech comes to a close and tries not to make it obvious that he's panicking.
He doesn't have the energy to stay longer but academy voters keep him occupied and Michael is not so discreetly taking flutes of champagne from platters that waiters carry around, drowning out the unnecessary chatter people he wishes to never associate with again bother him with.
Eyes tell a lot. Their eyes only hold malice and judgement and Michael has truly had enough as he feels his body start to sway slightly. He excuses himself with a nod before stumbling off. The venue is huge—too big and Michael blinks and suddenly he's in a hallway. The lights are slightly less harsh but not by much. A gloved hand presses against the wall for balance. Even through the sorrow that he seems to drown in… he giggles.
So silly, it all really is so silly.
Someone passes him by. Michael pays them no mind until they go frigid and for a split second, he sobers up.
"Michael?"
The man's voice is like molasses, like honey dipped in a dream. Michael takes in a breath and then stumbles as he breathes out a giggle. He seems to quickly catch on, cautiously approaching and steadying Michael by his arm.
"What're you doing here?" Michael hums. He's not totally drunk, just tipsy, but everything feels different.
"I could ask you the same thing. But I'm not going to. Come on, your team is probably worried." The man sighs, slowly turning him around, trying to lead him back the other way.
Michael stumbles over his feet, clinging on to Him and laughing out apologies, not understanding why He suddenly freezes at his touch.
There's something intimate about it all. The way He lets him lean against the wall as nausea takes ahold of him or the way he guides his water bottle to his lips to hydrate him. It's soft, it's safe.
Michael can't do this. He's a little more coherent now as he stops and turns to look up at the man with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. The man may known him better than anyone, inside and out. And he's unsure. About everything.
He gets on his toes just slightly. The man has always been tall. Michael pecks his cheek. It's small, ephemeral, it's nothing, he tells himself. "I'll see you later." he whispers before walking forward, feeling dread overcome him.
And then a hand, no, fingers wrap themselves around his wrist and Michael yelps as he's turned around, eyes blown wide at the look of desperation and despair in the man's own gaze.
"Michael." He says flatly.
They stand like that, in each others gaze, for what seems like days until the man slowly, slowly sinks down to his knees, arms coming to wrap around his waist. He feels him nuzzle into the fabric of his shirt, lifting it just slightly, exposing his belly button.
Michael starts to tremble. His tongue his lax and his mouth is suddenly a desert.
He keeps blinking. His fists are clenched.
And then the man speaks and his words terrify him.
"You're gorgeous," he sighs. "The prettiest fucking thing ever."
Lips press against his tummy, placing a kiss to the skin. "You're kind, you know? The type of kind you don't really see no more. Your love for children, your need to protect and nurture. God…"
He keeps going and Michael—
"Stop. Stop. Please, stop."
The man looks up at him, terrified, like he's done something wrong.
He hasn't. And that's the problem.
The man's grip loosens for a moment and Michael runs. He feels the sting of tears start to well up. The hallways are like a labyrinth, one turn leads to another hallway. Michael doesn't care he's lost he's just—he can't—he—
"Michael! Please, wait!"
And He's is chasing after him.
Michael is turned to face him once more, their lips a whisper away from one another. The man speaks up. "I'm serious. I just… I can't believe you're real."
And the man is holding him again. Michael squirms, begging, pleading for him to let go to leave him alone, to…
"You're ethereal."
"You don't have to lie to me." Michael says through the tears that finally start to fall. He wishes he had his sunglasses. The way He stares at him. It's too much.
"Why would I lie?" He whispers, their foreheads pressed together.
Michael is back into the wall, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, purely from his gaze and words. The man lifts his chin and Michael takes a leap of faith as he pulls Him down by his collar to connect their lips. A gloved hand comes up to caress his lover's cheek, feeling the man's arm wrap around and push their bodies closer together.
It's slow. "I've got you." his love repeats it like a mantra between the slow kisses he trails down the front of his neck, over his adam's apple and over his collarbones that expose themselves from atop his v-neck. Michael shrugs off the coat, letting it crumble to the floor, uncaring.
They kiss again. Michael lets Him remove his gloves from his hands, fingers tingling as they're exposed to the cool air. He lets his love turn him until his chest his flush against the wall, feeling him kiss over his shoulder, hands feeling him up. He still feels stray tears escape his eyes.
His love kisses his ear lobe, "Is this okay?"
Michael nods, letting him help him out of his jeans and boots. Michael should care. They're in an unknown hallway at the Grammy awards, there could be cameras… but it's lost on him. And it always will be, he decides.
His love's slick fingers circle his rim, his lips remaining by his ear, whispering praises and asking if he's alright. Michael gasps at the first breach of his fingers inside of him. He rolls his hips, feeling his own cock harden between his legs.
"Does that feel good?"
Michael nods.
Michael's breath hitches, eyes closed in ecstasy, just from his fingers alone as they pump in and out and gently scissor him open. His love slowly lifts Michael's leg to get a better angle, humming at the way Michael's back arches, gasping out his name and throwing his head back.
And then the fingers are gone and quickly replaced with the blunt tip of his love's cock. Michael whines at the first breach, only soothed by his soft words in his ear. His lover bottoms out, and then he's moving his hips. Slowly, passionately. It's like dancing.
Michael braces both of his hands against the wall, arching his back at the pleasure that rushes through him. His lover intertwines their fingers. They'll be here for a while. They've got time.
Stars are born and they die. The tide crashes against the shore. Michael is in love and Michael is loved back.
More on the idea of Sub! Mature era Michael tho because it's such a peak concept.
like a younger mike being a sub is cute and all because it makes sense, He’s young and inexperienced and so terribly shy, so its only natural that he’d let you take the reins. But Mature era Michael is well.. Mature lol.
He’s controlling and mouthy and downright bratty. He’s grown into himself, and age has made him more particular. more assured and assertive. Maybe even a little (a lot) spoiled. He knows just what to say to get exactly what he wants. Knows just how far he can push until you finally give him that look. That silent warning that says keep on and see what happens.
It’s the challenge of it that gets him off. Mouthing off to you in the car on the way home from an award show, Maybe it’s because you didn’t pay enough attention to him during the show, Maybe he caught you staring too long at another musician, or maybe theres no real reason for it other than he decided he needed your attention and this is his way of demanding it.
Tormenting and teasing you the entire drive home until you hit your breaking point and he ends up face down in the mattress at the end of the night, mascara ruining the clean white sheet because he’d pissed you off just enough for you to give him a much needed reminder of who’s in charge.
His loud moans and whimpers filling the hotel room as you thrust into him, gripping both wrists tight behind his back, chanting “I know baby, I know,” like a promise, fully intending on giving him what he needs, just on your terms.
