I have yet to write Michael in, like...FOREVER! Especially now, I have improved my writing and grammar to do a NEW Michael Jackson Imagines.
__
⚠️CW⚠️
Fake Allegations
Threats
Phone Calls
Bad name-(The name you see in the newspapers by the tabloids...
You were lying on the couch watching some tv, and you were eating pizza. You were six months pregnant, carrying your boyfriend's baby. Michael was shocked to be the father and was excited since he would be a parent. He was loving, caring, protective, and supportive by your side to take care of you and the baby.
The front door opens, revealing Michael, who just got back from who knows where.
He was covered in dry blood on his face. You sat up a little, looking back at him, worried.
"Michael, what happen to your face?" You asked.
"I got into a fight." He replied, rubbing his nose with his black glove.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
You sat up but held your belly, walking in the same direction he was going in the bathroom. He went under the cabinet to pull out the first aid kit and place it on the counter, rambling around inside to get what he needed to clean his wounds.
"I don't understand. Why did you get into a fight?" You asked.
"A couple of boys in the alley were talking shit, and they wouldn't stop harassing me until they bought about you. I couldn't let that slide, baby." He replied, getting a cloth to dampen it on with alcohol.
"Yeah. You didn't let it slide when you could've been locked away behind bars." You shook your head in your dislike. Yes, you were a little happy that he defended you but not pleased with his actions.
He looked over at you, "C'mon, Y/N. I did it for you. I didn't get into trouble." You protested.
"Not if you continue doing what you're doing." You scoffed.
"What do you mean? We've discussed it, and I am not quitting my gang." He protested. Michael held the cloth against his cheek that had a bruise.
"You can't just keep working in the streets, Micahel. You need to get a job!" You argued.
"I do have a job!" He protested.
"What job? You come home beaten up almost to death while I am carrying your baby!" You cried out, looking at him with an angry face matching his.
"I have a job with my boys, and I ain't cutting it loose." He protested.
"When will you realize that the streets are not that important? You have to be more cautious because you could've..." Michael stepped forward to place a hand over your mouth.
"Don't finish that sentence, Y/N." He cupped your cheeks, forcing your chin to lift and look into his chocolate-brown eyes. They weren't angry any more to reveal softness. " I know what you're trying to say, but I will assure you that no matter what happens, I will be there. For you and our baby."
"You always say that, but you'll never realize when it will hit you." You whimpered.
He slowly nods.
"I know. I'm still the same person you loved after we met down the subway, but you know that I want to keep you safe. I'm doing what I can to keep us settled." Said Michael.
"What plans do you have?" You asked.
"First, I found a nice apartment with plenty of room to raise the baby. More space and a good view too." He replied, smiling at you before walking into the kitchen to grab a loath of bread. "I want to bring you along to see it. Would you like that?"
"I suppose."
He came over to peck your temple, saying, "I love." He bends down, lifting your shift of the growing bump, saying, "I love you, too." making you giggle.
