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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My office was a refuge from the world, where silence and solitude reigned, bathed in the gentle, blue glow of my computer screen. The faint hum of the machine was the only sound that accompanied me in the stillness of the late hour. I was absorbed in the last task of the night, finishing up reports for my job as a graphic designer. Despite the clock's relentless march past midnight, my focus remained sharp. The fluorescent lights overhead were switched off, leaving the computer screen as the lone source of light, casting long, ghostly shadows across the room. I was dressed in a loose-fitting sweater and jeans, comfortable but far from stylish, and though my attire didn't do much to lift my spirits, the thought of tomorrow-a rare day off-was a beacon pulling me through.
With a deep, satisfied sigh, I saved the final report and gently closed my laptop. The room's silence was now a soothing balm, with the rhythmic tapping of my keyboard fading into memory. As I packed up my bag, my mind began to wander to the small gas station just down the road. I could already picture myself sinking into the worn cushions of my couch with a bottle of wine and a bag of snacks, my two cats curled up on either side. The idea of a quiet, indulgent night in was exactly what I needed.
Grabbing my purse and keys, I felt a renewed energy in my steps as the anticipation of my night off began to build. I headed out to my old but faithful sedan, which started with a familiar, comforting rumble. The streets were deserted, the quiet so complete that the soft hum of my tires on the pavement was the only sound. My thoughts were a hazy mix of exhaustion and eagerness-I couldn't wait to be home.
As I pulled into the gas station's parking lot, the bright lights of the store offered a warm contrast to the inky darkness of the night. I parked and stepped inside, greeted by the cool, crisp air-conditioned breeze. The fluorescent lights flooded the aisles with a stark, almost sterile brightness. I walked straight to the alcohol section, my footsteps echoing softly on the tile floor. I selected a bottle of rich, red wine, its deep color promising the perfect capstone to my long day. I grabbed a bag of chips as well, already imagining the satisfying crunch as I unwound later.
At the counter, I placed my items down with a contented smile, savoring the moment. The clerk, a middle-aged man with kind eyes that peered over his glasses, looked up from his magazine and met my gaze. "Long night?" he asked, his voice tinged with the warmth of someone who understood.
I returned his smile, feeling a sense of camaraderie in this brief exchange. "Just a bit of work to wrap up," I said. "But it's my day off tomorrow, so I'm celebrating tonight."
His smile broadened. "Sounds like a plan. Enjoy your night off."
"Thanks, I will," I replied, gathering my bags and heading out of the store, my mind already drifting toward the relaxation that awaited me.
