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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"Michael, I have to do a sex scene with Prince."
The words tumbled out of my mouth, jagged and raw, hanging in the air between us. The silence that followed felt like it stretched forever. Michael froze, his jacket halfway off, his movements suddenly halted. His eyes locked onto mine, wide with disbelief, searching for any sign that I might be joking. But there was no humor in my expression—just the heavy truth weighing down the space between us.
I could feel my pulse quicken as I stood there, watching Michael's movements—stiff, calculated, as though each action was a deliberate attempt to control the frustration simmering beneath the surface. He let his jacket slip from his shoulders with a mechanical precision, hanging it on the chair with a calmness that only masked the storm brewing inside him.
When he turned back to me, a small, bitter chuckle escaped him, laced with disbelief. "What?" His voice was edged with something sharp, something that cut through the silence between us.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I tried to gather my thoughts. The tension radiating off him made it difficult to find the right words. "It's part of the movie," I said quickly, my voice trembling slightly as I twisted my hands together. "It's just acting, Michael. It doesn't mean anything."
His brow furrowed deeply, eyes narrowing as he tried to process what I had just said. "Sex. With. Prince?" he repeated slowly, each word dripping with a mixture of shock and something darker—jealousy. He crossed his arms over his chest, creating a physical barrier between us, as if trying to shield himself from the truth. "Why him? Of all people, why Prince?"
I took a step closer, desperate to close the emotional distance that was growing between us. "It's not like that," I insisted, gesturing with my hands as I spoke. "It's just a role. It's not real. You know that."
Michael let out a slow, controlled breath, running his hand through his curls and tugging at them in frustration. His jaw clenched, and I could see the tension in his muscles, his body on edge as he struggled to contain the jealousy simmering just beneath the surface. He looked away for a moment, his gaze fixed on the wall as if he was trying to find the right words.
"It's not about whether it's real or not," Michael finally said, his voice low, tinged with a vulnerability he rarely let show. He paused, his eyes meeting mine briefly before they flicked away, filled with something deeper—something more painful. "It's him, Yn. I've never even met the guy. But you've been spending so much time with him lately... The way you talk about him, how you laugh with him on the phone... I've only heard about him—how charming he is, how everyone loves him. And now you're telling me you're going to be in a sex scene with him?"
