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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★ 1983 HayvenHurst Word Count: 9.1k
The pillows on Michael's bed felt like clouds beneath your head, the softness cradling you as the cool breeze from his ceiling fan brushed across your skin. You lay there, sinking into the comfort, yet your mind was far from peaceful. Thoughts of him swirled around like a relentless storm, refusing to let you rest. He was everything you shouldn't want—your best friend, the one person who should remain untouched by the complexities of your heart. But God, Michael was different. He wasn't like any man you'd ever known. Sweet, kind, loving—a warmth that contrasted sharply with the coldness of his father.
Every day, your feelings for him grew, creeping up on you like a forbidden sin. You tried to push them away, tell yourself it was wrong, but you couldn't help it. Not when he treated you the way he did, not when he looked at you with those gentle eyes, not when he spoke to you with that voice that could calm your deepest fears. And the way your name rolled off his tongue, like a soft whisper meant only for you—it was enough to send your heart racing.
Michael was that one everyone wanted, the star everyone admired. But you... you saw past the fame, past the screaming fans and the flashing lights. To you, he wasn't a celebrity. He was just Michael. And that terrified you. The thought of confessing your feelings filled you with dread. What if he didn't feel the same? What if you lost him forever?
"Hey," Michael's voice broke through your thoughts, his nudge bringing you back to reality. "What're you thinking about?"
"Huh?" You blinked, shaking your head as if to clear the fog from your mind.
"I asked what you were thinking about, girl. You spaced out on me when I was talking," he said, his tone light but laced with curiosity.
"Sorry," you mumbled, sitting up and adjusting the oversized Minnie sweatshirt he'd given you for your birthday. It still smelled like him, a comforting scent that only made things harder. "I just have a lot on my mind right now."
Michael's gaze softened as he leaned closer, concern etched into his features. "What's going on? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"
You looked at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to say them. Instead, you looked away, shaking your head.
"Not about this," you whispered, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you.
Michael raised a brow, his fingers brushing against your hand, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Is it that bad?"
"It's not that," you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. "I just... can we change the subject? I don't want to talk about it."
For a moment, Michael studied you, the silence between you stretching out like a thin wire, fragile and ready to snap. But then he nodded, his expression softening. "Okay. I won't push you. If you're uncomfortable, we can talk about something else. How was your week?"
