this is a side blog!! - my main one is @romansbbg!!
my masterlist! - my taglist!
⊹₊⟡⋆👤 : my name is lyla, i’m 8teen, cape verdean & irish, & an isfp!! i’m also frm boston! i've always listened to mj, but watching the biopic def sent me into michosis (call me a newgen idgaf) & that didn't fit with the vibe of my main blog so i decided to make this one!
⊹₊⟡⋆❕: this blog is dedicated to all things michael jackson!! my main blog is more of a personal/ug rap based blog if you're interested in that!
⊹₊⟡⋆📝: any fics i write on here are strictly for mj!! & i'm very open to requests, suggestions, or ideas if anyone has any for me!! don't hesitate to send them!!
⊹₊⟡⋆❔: i would love to have moots on this account, so please don't feel shy to message me!! i love having ppl i can interact with!! but if i follow you, it will show up on my main blog - @romansbbg - not on this one! my main blog also has more info about me if anyone is interested :)
🐆💋 — standing in front of dbf!michael’s door, the tears that blinded your sight run down to your cheeks and fall on your chest, staining your shirt. the wind blew, prickling your skin, while you felt a little cold, you could feel your lip gloss drying up. michael immediately comes to the door, opening it, his lips pressed, and his brows creased as he stares at you. michael’s right hand instantly finds one of your hands and pulls you inside gently. michael shuts the door and locks it behind you as you wipe your tears, the embarrassment settling in now.
you let out a shaky sigh as michael comes around you, standing in front of you with his arms crossed. “what’s going on?” he murmurs, moving his hand to your face. he rubs your cheek, absolutely careful with his touch. you glance up from the floor, looking into his eyes, “i broke up with my boyfriend.” you sniffle, michael’s heart dances to the news while his hands wrap around your body, pulling you into a tight hug. “oh, my baby, i’m so sorry to hear that.” you shove your face against his chest, inhaling his scent as tears fall. michael rubs your back, and itches the back of your scalp, letting you find peace in his comfort, just the way he always wanted.
“come on, let’s get you comfortable,” he whispers. you sigh and let go, but michael doesn’t. his hand moves over your waist, pulling you close to him as he leans down and presses a kiss on your head. the two of you go over to the couch, he sits close to you, and moves his hand down to your knee. michael rubs your skin as he looks at you, waiting for you to speak, but you can’t. “oh, he broke my baby’s heart?” he asks genuinely, and you nod. michael nods and pulls you back into a hug, rubbing your back. “i got you, you don’t have to worry about anything anymore. i’m here, sweet girl.”
your heart breaks at his voice. michael had been the one thing you’ve been searching for, and he knows. his lips move back to your head, kissing it, then to your forehead. your skin feels warm at his touch, and you know you’re safe, because he’s made many promises over the years to keep you safe, and what’s one more added? “what happened exactly?” michael questions and cups your face, his thumbs brushing your cheek back and forth, your pouty lips breaking him down. if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would do it in seconds.
“we uh, we started talking, and i mean, i’ve been getting into lots of arguments with him recently. we haven’t been seeing eye to eye, and i don’t know, i think i just got so tired of it that i left. sorry for dropping on you like this.” michael nods, his thumb moves over to your bottom lip, rubbing your lip gloss in, his eyes staying at your lips, then back to your eyes. “argued about what?” you shake your head, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further by telling michael he’s the topic of all the arguments. michael nods and sighs, pulling you closer into him, so close, you could sit on his lap.
“well, you’re here now, and i got you taken care of. you don’t have to stress that pretty mind of yours, okay?” michael whispers, and you nod. “thank you, mike.” you whisper back. his heart breaks at your sadness. still, he also finds peace in you looking for comfort in him. “stand for me, baby.” he mumbles. you look at him, confused by what he says. michael then lies flatly on the couch, his feet pressed against the arm of the couch. his big hands pat on his stomach, before he stretches his hand out to you.
you take it and lie down on top of michael, shivering at the way his arms wrap around you. michael leans forward to kiss your head again while your cheek pressed against his chest. his hands rub your back again, lulling your pain into peace. “i’m here, baby, always have always will be.” michael states, his voice sounding like a song meant only for you.
you stare at the different statues in his house, as you attempt to take your mind off your ex. michael is the one thing you search for in everything, and even up to now, needing his touch in more ways than one.
hey everyone!! i was just wondering if the concept above is something you’d guys would like to see!!! i’m obsessed w the controversially (maybe?) young gf x mike idea so i have to make a fic ab it - but idk if the plot points are too repetitive or overplayed!!! pls lmk!!
!!!
yes i’d like to see this!
i’d like this sort of idea w a change of plot
no — 🙁
Voting ended onJun 10
(also if u pick the middle option & have any ideas don’t hesitate to send them to me!!)
b.g. : y/n has spent her entire life with michael by her side. through every success, heartbreak, and headline, they've remained each other's constant. but after one of y/n's breakups leave her questioning everything, she starts to wonder if the person she's been looking for has been there all along.
w.c. : 5.1k
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the next day passes by quickly.
i had a long meeting with my agent and other people i didn't care enough about to remember, and the hours seemed to disappear before i even had the chance to notice.
i am more than excited, walking out of that boring building and to the car, the driver opening the backseat door for me. i hop in, asking the driver to take me to michael's house, not having to tell him the specific address as i've been there so many times before, he already knows.
the drive isn't terribly long and before i know it, i'm pulling into the driveway of michael's house a little past two o'clock. i thank my driver, telling him what time i'll need to be picked up at before making my way inside the small building off to the side of his large home.
i barely make it through the front doors of his at-home studio before hearing that familiar voice.
"you're late," michael immediately says when he hears the door open.
i automatically roll my eyes at that, closing the door behind me.
"i am not," i retort.
michael appears from around the corner, grinning ear to ear.
"it's 2:11," michael tells me.
i squint my eyes at him slightly.
"that is not late," i say, setting my bag down somewhere on the ground near the entrance.
"it is when i told everyone you'd be here at two," he says, his tone making it clear that he's goofing around.
i stare at him.
"yeah, well i told you i'd be here around two, not walking in the doors the second the clock strikes two," i laugh.
michael's grin widens as he walks closer to me, stopping just in front of me, holding his arms open. i step in, taking his hug, feeling his arms wrap tightly around my body.
"how are you, y/n?" he asks, his voice only slightly muffled as he speaks into the top of my hair.
"i'm good, the meeting was super boring as per usual, but how are you, mike?" i ask him in return, hugging him back.
"eh," he mumbles, finally pulling away from me. "feeling a whole lot happier finally seeing my best friend," he tells me, flashing me a large smile.
i shake my head, unable to stop the grin that appears on my lips.
"oh, shut up," i playfully tell him.
he only continues to smile at that.
"come on," he says, motioning for me to follow him.
he sits down in a chair placed in front of all the equipment i still can't seem to understand, despite mike's many attempts of trying to explain to me how to work them. there's another chair next to him that i plop myself down into.
there's a few other people in here, all of them recognizing me. producers, assistants, people like that.
"so where's this life changing song?" i ask.
he shoots me a look from over his shoulder.
"don't make fun of me."
"i'm not," i say, trying to conceal my small smile.
"you are," he instantly says.
i just stare at him as i bite down on my bottom lip to stop a giggle from coming out of my mouth.
michael playfully rolls his eyes, a grin creeping its way onto his face as he turns to face the equipment once again.
"okay, listen," he tells me, clicking some buttons.
he plays me a part of the track he's been working on. when it ends, he immediately spins around in his chair to face me directly.
"well?" he says expectingly.
i blink.
"well what?"
"what do you think?"
"i think it's good," i tell him.
michael's face instantly falls.
"just good?" he hounds.
a small laugh slips past my lips.
"oh gosh, michael, you know what i mean!" i exclaim, smiling at him. i then reassure him, my voice turning softer, "it's amazing, just like all your other songs."
the corner of his mouth twitches, almost giving me a full smile.
"you think?" he asks, looking at me with his large doe eyes.
"yes, mike. i actually like it a lot. it sounds a bit different from anything else you've made before."
that makes his smile fully form.
"does it? that was kind of my goal."
i nod, beaming at him. "mhm."
for the next few hours, the conversation somehow shifts away from music entirely. as was expected.
one minute we were talking about his album in the making, the next we're discussing a movie we'd both coincidentally had recently watched. then somehow we're arguing over which one of us was more annoying when we were younger.
"you literally put a rat in my backpack once," i say.
he fakes offense, gasping.
"it wasn't just a rat," he starts, "it was ben!"
i roll my eyes.
"yeah, well forgive me for being shocked when i saw little ben poke his head out from underneath my notebooks," i sarcastically tell him.
michael lets out a laugh, a real one coming from the depths of his chest. the sounds fills the room. and for a moment, i find myself simply watching him.
there aren't many places where michael gets to really be michael. most of the world wants something from him - those things ranging from autographs, to photographs, to more hit songs, to juicy gossip they can harass him over. but here, in simple moments like this, he just seems like himself. comfortable, happy, free; the same little michael i had first met all those years ago.
it's one of the many reasons i've always loved being around him.
my eyes soon drift toward the clock hanging on the wall. 5:40, it reads. i told my driver i'd be ready for him to take me back to my house by now, so i'd have just enough time to get ready before my date with daniel.
"oh," i sigh.
michael stills from his laughter, his smile still shining bright.
"what?" he asks.
"i should go," i tell him, faintly frowning.
his expressions falls ever so slightly.
"already?"
"i have dinner plans at seven," i remind him.
"right," he utters, his voice quieter now.
i don't miss the way his shoulders sink down.
"michael."
"what?" he asks innocently.
"don't," i say, my tone serious.
he raises his hands in surrender.
"i didn't say anything," he defends himself.
"you don't have to," i reply.
that earns a laugh from the both of us.
i stand from my seat.
"i'll call you later, mike," i promise him.
"you better," he jokes.
i smile.
"i always do."
i then move a bit closer to him, leaning down to catch him in a quick hug.
"bye, mike."
i pull away from him, walking towards the door, making sure to grab my purse.
"goodbye, y/n," i hear from behind me.
i turn, giving michael one last smile before i exit the door and make my way to the car parked just outside his studio.
i leave the studio exactly on schedule, so by the time i've gotten ready and arrived at the restaurant, i'm five minutes early.
which is why i'm surprised when seven o'clock comes and goes.
and daniel still isn't here.
the restaurant is warm, dimly lit, filled with quiet conversations and the soft clinking of cutlery. though i'm sat in a private area, i had noticed the couples sitting at tables scattered around the room as i first walked inside. they were laughing, talking, leaning into each other like they have nowhere else to be.
i sit alone.
i've only been waiting for, what, like, ten minutes, though. i can't get mad at daniel, right?
a waiter comes back into the room, offering me a polite smile.
"can i get you anything else while you wait?" he gently asks.
"just the time, please," i request, smiling back.
he looks down at his wristwatch.
"it's 7:16 ma'am," he says.
i nod. "thank you."
he then leaves the room.
sixteen minutes isn't terrible, right? right.
he's probably just running late. traffic, or something.
i sit there, picking at my manicured nails, continuing to wait. i can't help but find myself incredibly impatient.
i exhale slowly, forcing myself to relax my shoulders and take a sip of water.
it's fine. it's just dinner. people run late. it doesn't mean anything personal.
but even as i try to make myself believe this, my mind drifts. to michael, in specific. to earlier today. if i knew i'd be waiting for daniel at our dinner reservations for an extra twenty minutes, i would've spent more time with michael. what was the point of me leaving michael so early and hurrying to get dolled up for a celebration dinner with my boyfriend if he wasn't even going to arrive on time?
i spend the next few minutes staring into space, allowing myself to be consumed by my thoughts, which only makes me more irritated with daniel.
the man of the hour then steps in, scanning the room. i sit up a bit straighter.
he walks over quickly, relief on his face, and leans down to kiss my cheek before sitting.
"sorry," he says as he sits. "traffic was awful."
but that's funny, because i didn't catch a lick of traffic on the way here.
not trying to accuse him of anything.. but if we've set plans for seven, then I'd like for them to be executed at seven.
i smile automatically.
"it's okay," i tell him.
i don't mean it. it's not okay. my time wasn't respected. but at least i'm sure of my feelings, even if i tell him otherwise.
he settles in and opens his menu like nothing is out of place, which somehow annoys me even more.
twenty minutes, huh? it's not enough for me to argue with him, but it sure is enough to piss me off.
i pick up my glass of water again, taking a slow sip so he doesn't notice the way my jaw tightens.
he's already talking - about something that happened at work. a story i only half hear. i nod at the right moments anyway.
"that sounds funny," i say when there's a pause.
"yeah," he smiles. "it was."
the food arrives eventually, and we eat. we talk. we do everything a couple at dinner is supposed to do.
and still, something still feels slightly off. it isn't anything dramatic enough for me to exactly point out, it's just there.
at one point, daniel laughs at something he's saying and reaches across the table for my hand. i let him take it. but i notice how automatic it kind of feels. like a habit, maybe. not really a choice.
"you okay?" he asks.
"yeah," i answer too fast.
he studies me for a second. then nods like he believes it.
i squeeze his hand once, just to reassure him.
"i'm just tired," i add.
"long day?"
"yeah."
that part isn't a lie, though.
but my mind, without permission, drifts again. to the studio. to how eased and, dare i say, happier i was earlier.
daniel starts speaking again.
i don't catch the beginning, but i nod along anyway.
and i actually start to realize something uncomfortable; it isn't that daniel is doing something wrong, it's that nothing he's doing is standing out at all. which, i guess, feels worse.
i take a sip of the wine i had ordered to calm my brain, slowly, letting the glass sit in my hand longer than necessary.
daniel is still talking. shocker.
but my attention keeps slipping, like it can't find anything solid to land on here. it almost makes me feel bad for him, that i'm this bored and irritated with him, but if he isn't entertaining me, then he isn't entertaining me.
at some point, he says my name.
"y/n?"
i blink.
"sorry, what?" i ask.
he smiles, but there's a slight confusion behind it now.
"i was asking if you want dessert," he states.
"oh," i say, glancing at the table. i didn't even finish my food.
"no, i'm okay," i let him know.
"you sure?"
"yeah."
he nods and signals to the waiter anyway. not in an insisting way, but just to decide for me in a way that feels small, but noticeable.
i don't comment on it.
a slice of cake is brought to our table and gets half-eaten, but the most i've done was look at it.
the check comes not long after and daniel reaches for it automatically.
"i've got it," he says.
i let him. it's easier that way.
then we stand to leave together. he puts a hand lightly on the small of my back as we walk out.
it's a gesture that should feel familiar. well, it does feel familiar. but not warm, not like it used to feel.
outside, the night air is cooler.
there's also a group of paparazzi hoping to get me to answer their senseless questions, their cameras already raised. flashes go off immediately.
"y/n! over here!"
"how was dinner?"
"how's the new movie doing at the box office?"
daniel tightens his grip on me as we step forward. we ignore them.
"y/n! what does michael jackson think about your movie?"
my eyebrows almost furrow. the paparazzi loves to bring up michael any chance they get. but to be serious - why are they asking me what he thinks instead of asking him themselves?
daniel doesn't react, he just opens the car door for me. i slip inside and he follows after me and shuts the door, which cuts off the noise all at once.
the car begins to pull away from the curb. streetlights smear across the windows in long, soft streaks.
"tonight was nice," he says.
i don't reply right away.
"yeah," i respond, turning my attention back to what's outside the window.
i feel daniel's eyes on me.
"you okay?"
"yeah," i repeat, probably too fast.
he nods, not pressing further.
i look down at my hands. i swallow slightly.
then without really meaning to, i ask, "do you ever feel like we're just.. going through the motions?"
the words leave my mouth before i can stop them.
daniel's eyes flick up to mine.
"what?"
i blink a few times, already wishing i hadn't said it.
"nothing," i say quickly. "forget it."
but even as i lean back again, staring out at the passing lights, it doesn't feel like 'nothing'.
the driver soon arrives at daniel's house, which was rather close to the restaurant we chose tonight.
daniel leans in and kisses my cheek.
"i'll call you tomorrow," he says.
not even gonna ask your girlfriend to spend the night after a date?
"okay," i nod.
he smiles at me.
"goodnight, y/n," he tells me.
"goodnight."
i watch him step out the car and towards his front door, going inside.
and only then do i exhale a breath i didn't really realize i was holding in. i rest my head back against the seat. the leather is cool against my skin.
my thought's haven't settled since just before daniel finally showed up at dinner tonight.
the driver pulls out of daniel's driveway, heading to my home without me having to ask.
the city slides past in streaks of light again and i realize something i'm not sure how to make into words; nothings wrong with daniel. but i can't put up with something that doesn't make me anything.
a/n : hehehehe we're just starting to dip our toes in the juicy stuff 😈😈 hopefully the next part will be filled w more michael & not y/n's lame bf .... anyway lmk what u guys think about this!!! this is a new blog so please don't hesitate to follow/interact w me!! i need more moots on here lmfao (but if i follow u it'll show up from my main blog, @romansbbg)! pls feel free to send me any requests, comments, suggestions, or questions thru my inbox or thru a private message!! likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated!!
lmk if you want to be added to my taglist (lmk if its for all my fics or js this series)!!!!
— SUMMARY: After 6 months of being together, Michael decides that tonight’s the perfect time to ask for just one anniversary gift; he wants you to start controlling him in the bedroom.
— WARNINGS: sub!mike, needy!mike, lots of tension, body worship, size kink, angst (if you look through a microscope), dumbification (kinda…?), face sitting, oral (f receiving), mike has a big dick, handjob, choking, unprotected p in v, nipple play, dacryphilia, no use of ‘y/n’, mean!dom reader, use of mommy (kinda), use of ma’am, mike is kinda pussy drunk, timestamps are unimportant, kinda slow burn, gets kinda fluffy at the end, implied aftercare.
— WC: 5.1k (I got carried away…)
— A/N: The winner of this poll. I fs got carried away lmaooo. Like, comment, n reblog! And don’t be shy to flood my asks, i don’t bite..always.
It wasn’t even noticeable at first. Well, not really, until you connected every small instance like one huge puzzle. A particularly suggestive flutter of his eyelashes, a nearly crimson blush on his cheeks whenever you praised him for anything. Then, there was that one time when you called yourself ‘mommy’ as a joke.
You’d just arrived home from your 4-month anniversary dinner date. Your feet were aching; clad in a pair of deep red 8-inch pumps that Michael practically begged you to wear. “I think it’s sexy that you’re taller than me in those heels. Your legs look extra long and beautiful. Please m-, baby? Please, wear them.” That just about undid you.
You’d started regretting letting him sway you like that, though, because you swore that with every step, you could feel a new callous forming on your pinky toe.
“Come help mommy take these things off, baby.” It was said so casually, because it was. Yet, his reaction had you thinking you’d said something offensive. He’d just finished taking off his own loafers, one knee on the floor. He nearly toppled all the way over, and he looked up at you with this almost pained expression. You could’ve sworn you saw tears welling up in his eyes.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so direct. It’s probably the wine…I’ll take them off mys–” He’d waved off your thought with his left hand, cleared his throat, and mumbled something along the lines of “…seriously driving me insane” under his breath, but it sounded lighthearted enough for you not to question him further. The two of you had your best sex yet that night.
Last week, though? It got to a point where Michael damn near made you lose your mind. You put on a pair of jeans that were slightly too long, and you didn’t have time to get them hemmed, so you asked your boyfriend to cuff the bottoms for you, playfully pretending to press your stiletto onto his chest while he knelt down.
“Yes ma’am,” he responded earnestly. He looked up at you while he said it, eyes glazed over with sparkles and something else you couldn’t quite place. There was a faint, crooked smile playing on his lips. One that read: I’m right where I want to be. He clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head like he was in the presence of royalty, then continued on with the task.
Really, it was a very quick exchange. Almost even casual; you just so happened to remember every aspect of it because it ruined you and your panties for the next two days.
That’s what’d been on your mind all afternoon. The two of you decided to spend your 6-month anniversary at a beachfront resort. Michael rented the whole thing out nearly two months in advance, your display of subtle dominance on your 4-month anniversary influencing the idea. He had a plan, and all he needed to do was gather up the confidence to act upon it.
You two took a series of photos on the digital camera he gifted you, involving various activities; a photo of you eating the breakfast he cooked the two of you in your suite’s kitchen, one of him almost missing his step on the jetski he was gonna race you on…One of you towering above him as he adjusted the delicate golden anklet he gave you the day prior, the cursive M glinting in the sunlight. He coughed hysterically to cover up the sound of its shudder, internally chastising himself for forgetting to turn off the sound in its settings.
When you two got home, he seemed overly eager about the evening, his attitude rubbing off on you. The both of you were a giggling mess, and you were completely sober. Just high off of the presence of the other.
The two of you had dinner reservations at 6:30pm, so you decided to shower together to ‘save water’ and time. Michael basically did the showering for the both of you though, making sure to do every step like you would. You’ve showered together enough for him to know your whole routine, and it made your heart swell with warmth, and your thighs unnoticeably squeeze together with want. He even rinsed and dried the both of you, making sure you didn’t lift your pretty fingers to do anything but grip onto his shoulders for balance.
It made you insatiable.
While you put on the finishing touches of your makeup, Michael approached you with a pleading look settled onto his face.
“Does this shirt look weird untucked? Should I button it up some more?”
You turned around, your unset makeup almost plastering onto his black button up. He looked delicious. Your mouth actually got watery at the sight right in front of you. You gulped down your lust, and met his eyes.
“Michael, you look beautiful. Leave it untucked and unbuttoned just like that. Wow.”
He ducked his head slightly, a faint blush crawling up his neck, as he let out a nervous chuckle. For a man so gorgeous, you’d think he’d be used to compliments from his own girlfriend by now.
“Y-you sure? Tonight’s important. I wanna look like we belong together. Like I belong with you.”
It took everything in you not to ruin your dinner plans and prove it to him right there, your hands fighting the urge to push him onto the bed and show him just how pretty you thought he was.
You cleared your throat and answered with a joking, “Michael, I’d swear you have a praise kink or something, because there’s no way you don’t see just how tasty you look right now.”
You turned back to the mirror, powdering up your face and putting on the remainder of your lip combo.
You didn’t notice just how badly Michael was holding it together from that point forward.
The two of you played the rest of the night cool, though. Nothing out of the ordinary, save for Michael fighting off his neediness when you ordered for him because you noticed him get shy, and when you wiped enchilada sauce off of his face, calling him your ‘clumsy baby.’ Or, the instance where you almost dragged him to the bathroom when you asked if he wanted dessert, and looked at you all lovesick with a, “Yes, please.”
He aggressively adjusted his black jeans, not so subtly, after you told him to pick up the napkin he (purposely) dropped. He felt like he was drunk. His nerves and his body were on fire. He started to down the bottle of wine he purchased for the two of you, for liquid courage. You quickly followed suit. It did nothing to help either of your states.
On the walk back to your suite, Michael’s demeanor nearly killed your buzz. He looked terrified.
“Mikey, baby. What’s wrong?” you asked, stepping in front of him and tilting his head up by his chin so he’d look you in your eyes. The heels you wore had you standing taller than him, and, unbeknownst to you, that only made it worse.
“It’s nothin, baby.” he responded, but his voice wasn’t matching his actions.
“Michael, come on, it’s me. What’s going o-”
“I said it’s nothin’,” he cut you off sharply. His voice was loud- too loud- and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes. He grabbed ahold of the hand that you had underneath his chin, and rushed the two of you the rest of the way to the hotel.
You were furious. Concerned by his terror-stricken face, mostly. But, his sharpness with you stirred something inside that you thought you’d buried, only fueled by the ache in your feet from nearly running in stilettos.
As you made it to your room, you pushed past his usually taller frame, and sat down onto the nearest plush chair, bending over to undo the straps of your pumps. You heard the door close with a click and looked up to see Michael rushing his way towards you, trying to stop you from removing them yourself. The two of you had your hands tangled in a mess; his fingers trying to gently push yours off, and yours almost aggressively shoving his.
“Enough, Michael.”
He gulped loudly, seeming almost embarrassed to look at you.
That was almost enough to ease the fire on your lips. Almost.
“Look at me while I’m speaking to you. What happened, and why are you acting so weird towards me?” Your voice quivered on the latter half of your question, insecurity starting to creep its way through your tone. Your cleared your throat and waited for him to speak.
He sighed visibly at the beginning of your monologue. The words affecting him in a way you couldn’t understand.
He continued removing your shoes as he answered, needing something to keep his eyes away from yours, due to the vulnerable truth behind his actions.
“I…” he cleared his throat. “I want you to control me.”
That was not what you were expecting. You waited, scared that you’d misinterpreted the intentions behind his words, hoping he’d expand on it further. By this point, both of your shoes were off, and he was still kneeling in front of your legs, both of his hands opting to massage on one of your aching feet. He still wasn’t looking at you.
“Mike…?” you asked. Your voice slightly deepened with a lust you were fighting so hard to control. You ran your fingers through his hair softly, eliciting a soft whine from his throat. You used the hand in his hair to gently guide his face up to yours. He obeyed your silent command as soon as you slightly tugged, actions already proving that he meant what you thought he did. Your stomach did a flip. The alcohol in your system was making you extremely sensitive to your emotions, everything heightened. Apparently, Michael was going through the same.
“I-I mean. Well look at you…Your legs are so long, ‘n you take care of me so good. You’re so good at telling people what to do and I always wish it was me on the other end of that. I- I think about you doing things to me. Things that I can’t control. I sometimes try ‘n push your buttons just so you can finally snap at me, but you’re so patient, even though your energy is kinda scary, and that somehow drives me even crazier.” The alcohol had him saying quite literally every word that came into his brain. He’d managed to fully massage all the tension from your feet during the rambling. He gave them each a quick peck and set them down gently onto the plush carpet beneath you. Then he sat up on his knees, properly. Both of his hands were placed on his lap like he was preparing for prayer.
“Please, baby. I can’t take it anymore. I want you to use me and control me and take everything I have. I want you to be mean to me and I want you to punish me for being rude earlier. Put me in my place, please. Please, pleasepleaseplease. It’s embarrassing, but I really do want this.” He added the last part after he noticed you weren’t responding, embarrassment and alcohol settling into his bones. He started sniffling, his eyes rimming with tears.
You didn’t say a word. Silently, you stood up, gripping Michael by the collar, dragging his frame up with yours, and then crashed your lips into his. He whimpered loudly. The sound shred the last bit of sanity you had left. The two of you tumbled through the doors that led to your room, his socks being kicked off and your shawl strewn onto the floor on the way there.
You turned him around and shoved him onto the bed forcefully. Michael looked up at you like you held the universe up just for him. Your hands made their way to his shirt first. The opened buttons were driving you crazy all day. You started unbuttoning, but grew impatient, opting to just aggressively pull them apart instead, buttons popping off and flying onto the floor in the act.
Michael was a whimpering mess beneath you, and you hadn’t even touched him properly. His hands were at his sides and his body was rigid. He hadn’t even tried touching you.
“Mikey, baby. You know you can touch me, right?”
“I just wanted your permission first ma- ahem. Baby.”
“What was that?” you questioned, catching his slip-up.
“Nothin’,” Mike said, clearly embarrassed. He tried kissing you after to cover it up, but the alcohol in your system made you not care. You pushed his torso back down onto the bed.
“Don’t lie to me, Michael. I can stop all this right now,” you said sternly.
“I..Uhm. It’s just.. sometimes I kinda wanna call you..mommy…?” He phrased it like a question.
That’s how you ended up the position the two of you were in right now. Him with his head propped up on the spare pillows he requested earlier, and your body propped up on his face, straddling it. Michael was going dumb beneath you, fully letting your core and the alcohol in his veins consume him.
“Mmm, Mikey. I didn’t know you had this in you,” you say with surprise laced into your voice. And it’s true. The two of you had sex a few times, but he usually seemed okay with taking over for you. Only now did you realize that it was more of him servicing you than taking control.
“I’ve always had it in me, m- ah baby,” he says, slightly pushing his head further into the pillow so he can speak.
You grab one of his nipples and pinch it harshly.
“Did I say you could stop? Don’t think I forgot about your little attitude earlier.”
That only turns him on further though, his hips jutting into the air immediately at the rough contact.
“N-no. I’m sor- ah- sorry baby. You’re right. I’ve been s-so bad,” his voice melting into a needy whine on the last word.
“Yeah, so bad. I- mmm- s-should teach you a lesson, shouldn’t I?”
“P-please. Please do whatever you want to me. I’ll make it up to y…ou, mmm.”
In one swift movement, you climb off of his face, and settle your soaking core onto his bare chest. You take your right hand and place it onto his neck with no pressure- yet.
“How sorry are you?” you question, his fucked out face only fueling your actions.
“Really sorry. Sorrier than I can even put into words,” he jumbled out. Not good enough. You give him a slight slap on the face, and then grip onto his neck with more fervor. He moans like it’s his first time being touched sexually.
“That’s it? You’re sooo sorry you can’t even say it?” you scoff at him, playing up your anger just to see him fold beneath your grasp. You begin grinding down hard onto his chest, reveling in this.
“N-no! I mean, yes, b-but, fuck keep using me like that please. I just, I have to show you. Let me show you?” he says, still trying to work your pussy between each word.
“Hmm, go ahead then,” you respond almost immediately, intrigued by his request.
He tenderly grabs onto your thighs and lifts your body up off of his chest, and places you next to him, sliding from the bed in the same movement. Then, he eagerly walks to the foot of the bed and sinks onto his knees, beckoning you toward him with two of his fingers, his twinkling eyes never leaving yours.
“Join me, please?” he asks, voice laced with desire.
You seductively crawl toward him, his body looking meek in this position. You can feel your core drip more at the sight of him. He uncrosses your legs for you, making sure to do all of the work. He’s gonna prove to you just how sorry he is for not being a good boy.
He takes one of your legs and starts to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to every inch of it; from the tips of your toes, to the backs of your knees. His eyes never leave yours. He’s waiting for some sign of approval, a praise, anything that tells him he’s making up for it, but you sit there in shock, staring at the submissive man beneath you. You’re almost too scared to move, afraid that any action or sound will break the spell.
Then he starts to speak. “You’re so beautiful. Your body’s like a painting that only Michelangelo himself could’ve imagined. How could I have been so stupid? You deserve everything. I’m gonna give you everything,” he says between kisses.
“This?” he says, kissing your inner thigh, “I don’t even deserve it. I’m lucky to be able to touch you like this. Lucky ta even see you like this.”
He grabs onto your hips, and looks up at you, pleading.
“M gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”
Michael kisses up the soft skin of your stomach, making sure to save what’s beneath it for last. Then, he makes it to your breasts, and drool dribbles out of his mouth as he speaks.
“I don’t even deserve these,” he says, almost to himself with a sigh. He peppers kisses to the undersides of them, teasing his way up to your erect nipples. Then, he takes one into his mouth, suckling like a man starved. You nearly scream from pleasure at the contact, causing Michael to look up with worry, only for him to see your blissed expression. He grabs your other nipple and rolls it between his fingers, still holding eye contact with you.
“F-fuck Michael, that’s it baby. Just like that.”
He switches his ministrations to your next nipple, replacing his mouth with his hand, and his hand with his mouth. He starts whimpering louder and louder with each gasp you take, your arousal fueling his tenfold. You feel high. You try clamping your legs together, but his lanky body is blocking you from doing so, eliciting a whine from your lips. He notices this. He notices everything. He removes the hand from your nipple and immediately starts rubbing languid, deep circles on your clit. You let out a loud moan straight from your diaphragm, internally thanking Michael for renting the whole resort out for the two of you.
Michael’s lips detach from your tit with a pop. “You like this?” he questions genuinely, wanting to be good for you.
“Mike- fuck- yes! L-love it! So good!” You can barely even think properly, your mind only focused on how his long fingers work your clit with ease.
“Mmm,” he responds, not fully satisfied with himself. He doesn’t want you to love it. He wants you to crave it.
He gets up and straddles your waist, fingers still slowly rubbing your clit, searching your neck for its sweet spot with his lips. When you buck your core into his hand at a particular area, he starts licking and biting on it, hungrily inhaling the perfume on your neck in the process.
“You-ngh. You smell so sweet. Did you wear my favorite perfume for me?” he asks, a wave of gratitude crashing onto him.
“Y-yes Mike. Come on- more. I need more. Give me more.” You’re desperate now. You have half a mind not to start fucking yourself on his fingers right there, but he’s one step ahead.
His fingers slide straight into your pussy, and your walls clenched around them immediately, not expecting the intrusion so suddenly. Your back arches up off the bed, lifting both of you in the process.
“M sorry. I’m gonna get you there baby. I promise.” Without another word, he carefully slides back down your frame, and starts suckling at your clit like he’s tasting ice cream for the first time ever, his fingers still curling and pumping in and out of you. Your eyes start to water.
“Ohhhh my- fuuuuuck. Mikeyyy, baby mmm. S-shit. I feel sososo good. So good. You’re so good to me baby. My perfect- ah. My perfect angel. S-so pretty on your knees for me.” You smile at him weakly and squeeze his head in between your thighs forcefully, grinding yourself onto his mouth and nose. The dichotomy is giving him whiplash.
The praise that you give Michael is driving him halfway insane. He moans erotically into your squelching pussy, pumping his fingers into you faster and harsher, squeezing his thighs together for his own relief. The sight of you using him like this is making his brain go numb, the only thing on his mind is making up for his behavior earlier. Making sure you’re feeling good.
Your legs start to shake uncontrollably now, a telltale sign of your orgasm approaching.
This fuels Michael further.
“Please cum on my face. I wanna taste it, ma.”
You almost do it on the spot, but you have other plans. You lightly kick his face from between your legs and his mouth detaches from your pussy loudly. He looks at you confused, his face glistening with your arousal.
“I’m sorry. Did I do something wro-” You interrupt him by slamming your lips onto his, the force of it pushing his torso onto the floor. You moan at the taste of yourself on his mouth, your tongue searching for his in the process. You break the kiss and lean into his ear with a seductive whisper. “I want to fuck you, Michael.”
His entire body goes rigid and he gasps loudly. You palm him through his jeans, feeling his dick straining against the black fabric. He sucks in a sharp breath, wanting so desperately for more friction, while simultaneously wanting to show you he can be good.
“Ohhh, were you this hard all this time, baby?” you coo at him, loving how the condescending tone in your words feels.
“A-ah yes. I just wanted you to feel good,” he replies between choked breaths, seemingly trying not to pass out. He loves how dumb you’re making him feel.
“Aww my good boy, you did so well for me. I think it’s time for us to both feel good together, hmm?” you ask him, eager for his response. He looks so pretty like this, and his whimpers sound even prettier.
“O-only if that’s what you want. Ngh- everything’s your choice. Everything, everything,” he slurs out, already losing his grasp on reality due to the way you’re speaking to him and the way you rub hungrily against his clothed erection.
You unzip his jeans faster than he can even process and pulled them down off his legs along with his boxers, his leaking erection slapping against his abdomen harshly.
“Look at me,” you command him. He obeys without a second thought.
You take your pretty manicured hands and begin to jerk him off slowly, enjoying the way he tries not to grind up into your hands because he’s your good boy.
You speed up your actions faster, faster, faster, until you see Michael nearing his climax. He’s warning you over and over that he’s gonna cum, not wanting to before you do. Not after his behavior today. He didn’t deserve it, and you agree.
“Baby, pleeeeease, ‘m so close. Can’t do it. You have ta first. Iss too good ‘n i can’t hold it,” he whines, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. You kiss them away and go faster, ignoring his cries. The tears only turned you on further.
“F-FUCK! BABY I’M GONN-” You stop moving your hand entirely, and squeeze down on his dick hard.
“Wh-wha..” Michael trails off, not knowing how to speak anymore.
“Thank you,” he says, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes, chest heaving. He knew better than to complain- you touching him at all was enough.
You lean up to give him a quick kiss, before lining his dick up with your entrance and sinking down onto it. The stretch was enough to make your legs shake and almost make you fall over. You can’t take it all at once, opting to go slowly, grinding yourself against it in the meantime.
“Oh my GOD,” Michael cries out, propping himself up on his elbows so he can look at you. You look like an answered prayer.
“Mikey, you’re too big,” you whine out, drawling the last word out on purpose.
“I’m sor-ry,” he sincerely apologizes. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so turned on by his facial expression. You sink the rest of the way down, too impatient to care about the burn. You grip onto his neck for support and start riding him slowly, your thighs burning with pain and pleasure. Michael moans at the feeling of your delicate fingers around his neck again and he loses his filter completely.
“Please choke me again. Hard. Control when I can breathe,” he begs you. You do just that and start bouncing against his length, the begging and whimpering from your boyfriend turning you on more than you’ve ever been.
His eyes start to roll back, and you loosen your grip so that he can gasp for air, his lungs greedily swallowing the oxygen creeping in. He starts rolling his hips up into yours to help, knowing riding isn’t easy for women. Always the gentleman, even when you’re fucking his brains out. He looks into your eyes, grabs your free hand and starts sucking on your fingers, muffling his moans with them from embarrassment. You don’t know whether to be angry that he won’t let you hear them, or turned on from the sight, so you grind and choke him harder.
His eyes fog over and he drools onto his chest, arching his back up to meet all of your grinds. You loosen your grip once again.
“Let me hear your pretty voice, baby,” you drawl at him, removing your fingers from his mouth and using them to play with your nipple. That basically does it for him.
“Baaaaaaby. Oh my god I-I can’t even think. You’re s-so good to me and- YEAH keep touching yourself like that please. You’re so beauti-f-ful. I’m never letting you go. You’re t-too perfect iss driving me crazy. Plea-” you choke him again- “Mmmfuck. Please cum on me. Please use my body to cum.”
“Then fuck me like you want it, Mike,” you order, dragging your fingers down from his neck, using your nails to scratch all the way down to his chest.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He flips you over and pins you beneath him, and begins thrusting into you the exact way he knows you like it, totally focusing on your pleasure.
“I won’t, baby.” He presses a hand onto your stomach for comfort, but what he felt flipped a switch in him. He looked down and saw himself moving inside of your belly.
“Oh my god…” he gasped out, making you look at him with concern. “B-baby. I can see myself inside of you,” he says, genuinely surprised.
“It’s ‘cause you’re so big,” you say, pouting at him. “G-go ahead, baby. Fuck me until m’ cervix is shaped like your dick.” He groans at the filth in your words, doing just as you say. His body begins to shake with pleasure. He feels so good, too good. Like something only his imagination could come up with. He starts drooling again.
The sight above you is getting you so close to your release. You reach your hand down to your clit and started playing with it, making sure to tilt Michael’s face down to watch before you do so. You want to put on a show for him. It is your anniversary, after all.
“M gonna cum for you Mikey. ‘M gonna make a mess of that pretty dick of yours,” you say nastily. You can feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten more and more.
“Y-Yes! Please cum all over me. Please turn me into a mess,” he begs, and that did it. Your entire body locks up and your vision turns blurry.
“Michael FUCK!” you scream- genuinely scream- out in pleasure. You grip onto his shoulders with all the force you can muster, mumbling out praises of “You’re so pretty” and “Did so good” until your lips fall numb. He rides you through the whole thing, legs shaking and forehead dripping with sweat.
“C-can I please cum? It hurts…” You look at him with surprise, not realizing he was still going for you, and it almost does enough for you to want a round two.
“Oh, Michael. You’re so obedient. I didn’t realize you were still going, love. Cum inside me, baby. Fill me up.”
He whimpers and cums on command, his body stilling and his toes curling up in pleasure. His eyes roll so far back into his head that you can’t even see his irises anymore.
“Thank you, thank you, thank y- ahh, thank you. ‘M so so-ahhhgghh, so sorry. I’ll be good forever ‘m sorry my pretty girl.”
His sweaty body collapses onto yours, and you two lay there for a while, his dick still inside of you, fully softened up.
After at least ten minutes of this, Michael speaks.
“So…Can we do this again?” he asks hesitantly.
“Michael,” you start, “I don’t think I can ever go back. Do you know how sexy you are when you’re submissive?” Your thighs start to clench again at the thought of what you two got up to tonight.
“O-oh. Really? It wasn’t too much?” he asks shyly as he rolls off of your body.
“Really. You should’ve said something sooner, angel face. I prefer being dominant,” you reveal, although you’re sure it was obvious.
“I was just shy, is all. But you? I don’t think- no, I know I’ve never seen anything or anyone as sexy as you were tonight. I feel like I died from bliss and met God. Truly, you were heavenly. I didn’t want any of it to end.”
“It doesn’t have to…We still have a whole weekend to spend here,” you offer, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. He blushes a deep red.
“I’m gonna go get our stuff ready for a bath,” you say. “Tidy up the room for when we’re back, yeah?”
“I’ll do anything for you,” Michael says, clearly still pussy drunk. He grabs your hand before you head to the bathroom.
“I love you. I’m not just saying that because of what we did tonight, you know that. But I love you. Thank you for being the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ll cherish you for all of my days, and even afterwards, if I can.“ He gives you a brief, yet passionate kiss on the lips. “I’ll be as quick as possible. Happy anniversary, pretty girl.”
“Happy anniversary, Michael,” you say, trying not to cry. You don’t know how you’d gotten so lucky.
b.g. : y/n has spent her entire life with michael by her side. through every success, heartbreak, and headline, they've remained each other's constant. but after one of y/n's breakups leave her questioning everything, she starts to wonder if the person she's been looking for has been there all along.
w.c. : 1.6k
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the first time michael had met me, we were twelve years old, right after michael's family had moved to encino, to the same neighborhood i had lived in.
neither of us remembered exactly how it happened anymore. over the years, we've both told different versions of the same story; michael claims i walked up to him and started talking to him as if we had known each other forever - but i swear he was the one following me around.
neither version was entirely accurate. but what actually mattered was that somehow, by the end of that summer, we were good friends.
by thirteen, we spoke almost every day.
by fourteen, we knew each other's families pretty well and spent most of our days at one of our homes.
by fifteen, i was one of the only people michael felt completely comfortable around, considering the way other kids treated him due to his fame. i also felt the same way for him.
and by sixteen, neither of us could imagine a life where the other wasn't in it.
the friendship survived everything that followed. michael's tours, records, and interviews. my acting classes. the growing fame between us - though starting at dramatically different levels. both of our increasingly busy schedules.
while the rest of the world watched michael jackson, the famous child-star of the jackson 5, become one of the biggest stars on the planet, i had a front row seat to all of it.
and michael had one for my life too.
he watched my first success as an actor; my first minor role that i wouldn't stop talking about for weeks. my first serious relationship that didn't really seem to rub mike the right way. my first heartbreak that left me weeping for the longest. michael was there, by my side, through all the small and big moments of my life.
we had spent nearly two decades growing up side by side. and not only as children, but as teenagers becoming adults.
and somehow, despite everything that changed and all of life's crazy events we were put through, we never lost each other.
which was exactly why i wasn't surprised when my phone rang just after ten o'clock on a thursday night. i already knew who it was before i picked up the phone.
"hello?"
"guess what," michael's voice cuts through the line.
i laugh. "well good evening to you too."
"guess," he says, his voice bright and excited. boyish, almost. the way it always became whenever he was speaking about something he was passionate about.
"you bought another animal," i sarcastically guess, poking fun at his love for animals.
"c'mon, be serious," he says with a small laugh.
"i don't know!" i exclaim with a giggle. "you aren't always the easiest book to read. give me a hint."
the line is quiet for a few seconds, michael clearly thinking about an answer.
"it's big," he finally says.
"that tells me absolutely nothing," i tell him.
"it's really big," he elaborates.
"wow. thank you. incredibly helpful."
michael laughs, his sound of soft voice filling my ear.
"i've been in the studio all week," he says.
"yeah? aren't you usually in the studio?" i ask, picking at my nails.
"yeah, but this time is different. i think i finally figured it out- my album, i mean."
i sit up a bit straighter, hearing this.
for the past year, every conversation seemed to circle back to the same thing; michael's album. he found himself very conflicted, having some songs he wasn't satisfied with, some he loved, and others he couldn't quite decide what he thought about. i've spent entire afternoons just listening to him obsess over different lyrics and arrangements.
"you've said that before," i point out.
"i know."
"like, multiple times."
"i know," he repeats.
"..so what's different this time?"
he clears his throat. "it just feels right," he tells me, his tone confident.
michael was many things, but certain wasn't always one of them. especially when it came to his work. he was a huge perfectionist.
"well," i start, smiling to myself, "then i'm happy for you."
"you'll be one of the first people to hear it."
"one of?"
"don't push your luck."
i breathe out a laugh. "unbelievable."
"i'm serious, y/n," his voice softens, "i want to know what you think."
it warms my heart, after all these years, after his huge successes, after everything he'd achieved, my opinion still mattered to him. it always would.
"i'd love to hear it," i say honestly.
"good," he replies, his smile evident through his words.
there was a short pause. then eventually michael cleared his throat.
"so are you still going out with daniel tomorrow?" michael asks me, his tone shifting.
daniel is my boyfriend of almost one year. we have dinner plans tomorrow to privately celebrate the release of a movie i'm starring in.
"yes."
"oh."
my eyebrows itch into the smallest furrow. "oh?"
"just asking."
i roll my eyes. for as long as i could remember, mike had reacted strangely whenever i mentioned a boyfriend or a date.
it wasn't rude nor openly disapproving, but it was for sure strange. he'd ask too many questions, find little things to complain about, suddenly become very interested in whether i was happy or not.
i had called him out on it more than once. but every single time, he'd deny that he's acting odd.
"you don't like him," i'd say.
"i never said that," he tried to defend himself.
"you don't have to," i told him.
"i think he's fine," michael would dismissively say.
but i could tell he truly felt otherwise.
"mhm," i hum into the phone.
"what?" michael asks.
"oh, nothing," i say.
mike then huffs a soft breath out of his nose.
"what time are you going at?"
"i'm leaving at seven, mike. you have any other questions about my date?" i ask him, grinning.
"what does that mean?"
"well, y'know, you always interrogate me before i go out."
"i don't do that."
"you sure about that?" i laugh, shaking my head despite the fact that he can't see it.
he mutters something under his breath i can't quiet make out.
"what was that?" i question.
"nothing."
"that's what i thought."
then for a moment, the only sound between us is the faint crackle of the phone line.
"how's the movie release going?" he switches topics.
"it's good."
"good?"
"don't start, mike."
"i'm not starting anything!"
"you're talking in that weird tone you use whenever you think i'm hiding something," i point out to him.
"that's not true," he says.
"oh it absolutely is," i retort.
there's another pause.
"okay," he admits, "it might be a little true."
i smile to myself.
"no, but the release is going well. everyones excited. the reviews have been good, too."
"they should be."
"michael."
"what?" he asks me, confused.
"you're biased."
"..so?"
i laugh. "so your opinion doesn't count."
"that's rude," he tells me, fake offense in his voice.
"yeah, well you'd tell me it was the greatest movie ever made if i spent two hours staring at a wall."
"well it depends."
"on what?"
"was is an interesting wall?" he asks, the playfulness in his tone evident.
that earns a real laugh from me. and i hear michael laughing on the other line.
for a second, i'm sixteen again, sitting crossed-legged on his bedroom floor while he shows me some new dance moves he's been practicing. it was before the nonstop public attention. before the headlines. and before the media actually cared about what either of us were up to.
"you know," he says after a moment, "i miss you."
the words are simple, but they still catch me off guard. my smile softens.
"i saw you last week."
"that's not the point."
"then what's the point?"
he hesitates.
"i don't know."
but somehow, i think i know exactly what he means.
life had become busy. so much busier than either of us ever imagined when we were kids. weeks has disappeared. months flew by like nothing. sometimes we'd go days without talking (three days being the max), only to spend multiple hours on the phone like no time had passed at all.
but lately something felt different. it made me feel distant, almost. like life kept trying to pull us in opposite directions.
"i miss you too, mike."
the confession is quiet. there's another pause.
"come by the studio tomorrow," he says suddenly.
"tomorrow?" i ask.
"yeah."
"to do what?"
"i want you to hear something," he specifies.
a smile spreads across my face.
"like what?"
"..a song."
my smile softens without me meaning to.
"a new one?"
"yeah," he clarifies.
"is it finished?" i question.
"almost," he says. "but i can't tell if it's good yet."
i nod though he can't see me, my fingers twisting the phone cord.
"okay. what time?"
"whenever you can," he tells me. "i'll probably be there all day. just don't come too late."
"okay, i'll come after my meeting then. probably around two."
"okay," he says repeats gently.
there's another short few seconds of silence.
"i'll be there," i add.
"good," he says, his voice quieter.
i check the clock on my nightstand.
"well i'm going to go to bed now, it's getting late," i tell him.
"i didn't even realize. i'm sorry for keeping you up this late," michael apologies.
"don't be. goodnight mike," i say.
"night y/n."
"i love you," i add in.
i hear the softest hitch of his breath.
"love you too," he tells me.
i hang up the line, setting the phone down.
i then brush my teeth, already in my pajamas. the second my head hits my pillow i fall into a deep slumber.
a/n : hehehe this fic is going to be so cuteee!! but lowkey nothing burger so far.. but trust, we're just getting started 😈 lmk what you guys think about this!! this is a new blog i've just made so i'd love to have some moots -- though if i follow you it'll show up on my main blog, @romansbbg. please feel free to send me reqs, comments, questions, or suggestions through my inbox or through a private message! likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!
