𝚃𝚆: includes strong language, Sexual content, Explicit content.
Readers discretion is Advised
Imagines Between you & Michael Jackson.
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🟠 1993. 𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:2.5k
‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
The dimly lit room cast a warm glow as you and Michael found yourselves in a playful haze after indulging a bit too much in drinks. Michael, particularly in need of relaxation after weeks of stress, reached for his camera, a familiar companion in his creative pursuits.
"Michael, what are you up to?" you inquired, perched on the edge of the bed, observing him disappearing into the bathroom with the camera in hand.
"Just checking if this thing still works," he mumbled, his reflection staring back at him from the mirror. "One, two... not being Narcissist, just testing the mirror effect. Seeing how well it captures."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his antics, his tipsy demeanor contagious. "Doodoo... Applehead," he murmured, prompting another round of laughter from you.
"What?" he queried, puzzled by your amusement.
"You're just being silly," you replied, rising from the bed to dim the lights, setting the mood.
As Michael continued his counting, you shot him a quizzical look. "What are you counting?"
"The... thing," he mumbled, his focus shifting between the camera and the blinking lights. "Something's off, something's weird here."
Amidst his counting, he began to ramble about the camera's quirks, prompting you to intervene. "Michael, stop fussing with that camera and come here," you urged, reclining on the bed, your hair cascading around you.
"Alright, alright," he relented, crossing the room with a mischievous glint in his eye. Leaning over you, he planted a tender kiss on your lips, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he whispered, "I wanted to try something tonight."
Your arms instinctively found their way around his neck as you inquired, "And what might that be?"
"I didn't bring this out just to mess with it," Michael explained, his voice soft as he hovered over you. "I wanted to make something... you know, keep it for us."
"Oh... Oh? You want to make a..." you trailed off, realizing his intention.
"Yeah..." he murmured, his gaze lingering on yours as he nervously bit his lip.
"Michael, why? What if someone gets a hold of it?" you voiced your concern, wary of the potential consequences.
He shrugged, a confident grin spreading across his face. "It won't. I'll keep it hidden somewhere good," he reassured, punctuating his words with another lingering kiss, the taste of liquor still lingering on his lips.
"Mmm, okay, okay, we can, baby," you relented, unable to resist his charm.
"Good," Michael nodded, straightening up and making his way to the desk. With purposeful movements, he set the camera up and pressed the record button.
