Welcome to Michael Jackson Imagines Vol. 3!
This is a book full of erotica and different AUs of Michael Jackson.
I hope you brought your holy beverage or food, you're probably gonna need A LOT.
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The spring evening air was cool as Yn and Michael walked into her apartment. He stormed past her, duffle bag in hand, and slammed the bathroom door shut. Yn walked over to her dining table, after locking the front door, and placed her keys and purse down. She had heard about the baseball game today.
The game had been a disaster.
Michael's performance was so bad that most people blamed him for the team's loss, especially for not hitting a home run when it mattered most. His face was tight with frustration, his white and dark blue striped baseball uniform a stark contrast to Yn's casual attire.
Yn stood outside the bathroom door, her heart aching for him. She knocked gently, "Babe, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, just go lay down," Michael's voice came back, strained and hollow.
"I can see you're not in the mood. Do you wanna talk about it?" Yn asked, trying to keep her voice calm. When she didn't hear anything, she sighed. "I'll be in the room," she said softly.
Yn went to her bedroom and changed into her bed clothes—a white tank top and shorts. Meanwhile, Michael was staring into the mirror, taking deep breaths, splashing water on his face, but the tension in the air remained thick. His father's harsh words echoed in his mind: "You'll never be good enough, Michael. You're wasting your time."
After what felt like an eternity, Michael emerged, now in a white tank top and plaid pajama pants. He walked into the bedroom, dropped his duffle bag on the floor, and fell onto the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her.
Yn muted the TV and wrapped her arms around him, starting to pet his curls, a soothing motion that finally broke him. Michael's shoulders shook as he began to cry, burying his face in her chest.
"It's okay, Michael," Yn whispered, her heart breaking for him. "The game was tough, but you're tougher."
"They scored so many points," he choked out. "I'll never be good enough. My dad was right."
"Hey," Yn said firmly, pulling back to look into his eyes. "You are good enough. You're amazing, Michael."
He shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "I suck at baseball. I suck at everything."
Yn had had enough of his negative talk. She tried to make him smile by tickling him and making funny faces. "You know what? You're pretty terrible at being sad. How about we switch it up?"
A reluctant smile tugged at Michael's lips, and Yn wiped his tears away. "That's better," she said, kissing him softly. "You're amazing, and I love you."
