Book I Of the 'Not Vanilla' Imagine Series.
𝚃𝚆: includes strong language, Sexual content, Explicit content.
Readers discretion is Advised
Imagines Between you & Michael Jackson.
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♡ 1986 Inglewood Word Count:5.5k
It was a warm day in Inglewood. Elizabeth had invited you and Michael to join her for another horse race. Although horse racing wasn't your passion, you decided to tag along, knowing that spending time with Michael was worth it. The car ride there was filled with laughter and lively chatter between you and Michael, as he recounted the past week he'd spent in the studio. You loved watching him work, admiring the passion and creativity that drove his art.
Michael held your hand tightly as you three walked into the event. Photographers swarmed, their camera flashes nearly blinding you. Michael, accustomed to the attention, pulled you close, his grip reassuring. "It'll be okay, I'm right here," he murmured softly.
You looked up at him, a smile forming as you brushed a strand of hair from his face. "Thank you, baby," you whispered.
"You're welcome, my love," he replied, his voice a soothing balm.
Wrapping your arms around his, you inhaled his intoxicating scent. His all-black outfit made him look even more alluring, heightening your desire for him. Despite the growing need, you held yourself together as you entered the bustling venue. People approached to greet you all, and while Elizabeth and Michael mingled, you stayed close to him, gripping his hand nervously.
An older man with thinning hair approached, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "So, Michael, are you betting this time?" he asked.
Michael's grip on your hand tightened. "I-I don't make bets. I'm a Jehovah's Witness; we don't get into those kinds of things," he said, his discomfort palpable.
You glanced up at him, concern etched on your face. "You okay?" you asked quietly, but he didn't respond.
The older man persisted, undeterred. "Well, beginners' luck. You point to one, and I'll take care of it."
Michael clenched his jaw, rubbing his ear nervously. "I'll think about it," he said curtly.
You tugged at his hand, trying to check on him, but he continued the conversation with Elizabeth, seemingly ignoring you. Frustrated, you let go of his hand. Michael looked at you, brow raised, and tried to grab your hand again, but you pulled away and walked off.
Elizabeth noticed and leaned toward Michael. "Is she alright?" she asked, her tone concerned.
"She'll be okay. She just gets into those moods," Michael replied with a shrug, brushing off your departure.
You climbed the steps leading to the seats, your black heels clicking against the pavement. Leaning against the railing, you watched as Michael, Elizabeth, and the older man continued their conversation below. Michael pointed at a horse, and the man nodded before walking back down the steps.
