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 days since our last encounter in the kitchen had passed like a blur, each one blending into the next. Tonight, we found ourselves at a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in the heart of downtown. The kind of place where the charm lies in its imperfections-the string lights hanging haphazardly from the ceiling, the mismatched chairs that somehow felt perfectly paired, and the warm glow of candles flickering on each table. And as we sat across from each other, the soft candlelight casting shadows on our faces, it felt as though we were rediscovering each other, peeling back layers that had been obscured by the chaos of the last few weeks.
Michael glanced around, taking in the eclectic decor with a soft smile. "This place is cute," he remarked, his voice low and warm, almost as if he were speaking directly to the ambiance itself.
I nodded, my fingers brushing the edge of the menu as I smiled back at him. "Yeah, it is. Feels like we're in one of those old rom-coms, where the couple stumbles upon some hidden gem and it becomes their spot."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through the air between us, soothing and familiar. "Maybe this could be our hidden gem. You know, a place we come back to when we need to escape... everything."
The thought of having a place that was just ours, a sanctuary in the midst of our topsy-turvy world, warmed me in a way I hadn't expected. I glanced over the menu, sneaking looks at him as he fidgeted with the edge of his napkin, a telltale sign of his nerves-my nerves, I reminded myself. It was still surreal, seeing my own gestures and mannerisms reflected back at me through his-my-body. But beneath that strangeness was a comfort, a reassurance that despite the upheaval, we were still us.
When the waiter arrived to take our order, Michael, ever the thoughtful one, insisted on choosing something I would typically eat. He squinted at the menu, his brow furrowing as he tried to decipher the descriptions. "Uh, yeah, we'll have... um... whatever's got the least chance of giving us heartburn," he said, trying to sound confident but missing the mark just slightly. The waiter shot him a puzzled look before scribbling down the order and walking away.
I couldn't help but laugh once the waiter was out of earshot. "That's very considerate of you," I teased, my eyes sparkling with amusement.
Michael leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm a caring partner, what can I say? Besides, I've got to take care of this body-it's carrying precious cargo, after all."
I rolled my eyes, but the smile tugging at my lips was impossible to suppress. "You're really milking this pregnancy thing, aren't you?"
His grin widened, and there was a mischievous glint in his-my-eyes. "Well, it's not every day you get to experience it from this perspective. And honestly? It's kind of fascinating. Weird, but fascinating."
