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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It was a crisp morning, the kind that makes your breath visible and your cheeks flush with cold. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck, determined to start the day off right with a piping hot cup of coffee. My mind buzzed with the list of errands I had planned, but first, caffeine. The streets were already bustling with early risers, all wrapped up in their own worlds. I made my way down the familiar path to my favorite coffee shop, a small, cozy place with an aroma that could wake the dead.
As I pushed open the door, the warm, inviting smell of freshly ground beans washed over me. I stepped inside, the bell above the door tinkling to announce my arrival. The shop was moderately busy, the low hum of conversations creating a comfortable background noise. I joined the line, my eyes scanning the menu even though I knew exactly what I wanted.
Lost in thought, I didn't notice the man in front of me until I walked straight into him. The collision was gentle, but enough to make him lose his balance slightly. He turned quickly, and I saw that he had a scone in his mouth. We both instinctively reached out to steady each other, our eyes locking in the process.
"Sorry about that," I said, taking a step back.
"No, it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention," he replied, his voice muffled by the scone. He removed it from his mouth, and our eyes met properly. There was a moment of stunned silence as recognition dawned on both of us.
"Michael?" I asked, almost in disbelief.
"Yn?" He replied, his expression mirroring my shock.
We both smiled, an unspoken understanding passing between us. It had been years since we last saw each other, but the familiarity was still there. Michael and I had been high school sweethearts, but we had broken up due to our differences. Life had taken us in separate directions, and it seemed like fate had decided to intervene today.
"I can't believe it's you," Michael said, his smile widening. "How have you been?"
"I'm good," I replied, still a bit dazed. "Just getting coffee before running some errands. You?"
"Same here," he said, holding up the scone as evidence. "Just grabbing breakfast."
We stepped aside to let the line move, continuing our conversation as we waited for our orders. It felt surprisingly natural, like picking up an old book and finding the story just as engaging as the first time.
"Do you want to grab a table and catch up for a bit?" Michael asked once we both had our drinks. "It's been so long."
I hesitated for a moment. Seeing him brought back a flood of memories, both good and bad. But curiosity and the need for closure won out. "Sure, why not? I have some time before my next errand."
