Separated: 5SOS BSM

74. You're A Badass But He's Overprotective AF - Michael

Part 4/4

...
Requested by:
@SkySlays
...

Next chapter is: "He Takes Care Of You While You're On Your Period"

Michael:
The social groups of schools, kids stuck with kids like them, and that naturally made cliques of like minded individuals. Everyone knew the groups, the jocks, the nerds, the theater geeks, the artists, the stoners, the loners, the emos, and of course, the rebels. You were the rebel of the school. The cliché kind of leather jacket and rock music rebel who never did what they were told and was more often than not, kicked out of class.

Everyone knew you, and recognized your position as the most badass rebel of the school. You were famous for your constant skirmishes with the administration and other students. They respected you for fighting your way up the food chain.

Michael on the other hand, did not like your fights, or your 'position'. He thought that you were constantly in dangerous situations, which wasn't completely untrue. But rebellion was a lifestyle, not a career, so you just kinda ignored his babying as well.

The good news is, that as much as he didn't like what you did at school, he didn't to a lot to prevent it. After all, he was punk rock, and suppressing others punk-rock was would be sacrilege. So what he usually did, was fuss over your post-fight injuries, and ask about what the current social climate of the school was.

So when you walked into the house with a busted lip, he was especially unhappy.

"Hey Mikey," you shoved the door open, and immoderately ripped your backpack from your shoulders and tossed it off onto the floor.

"Hey Y-" he walked into the hallway, carrying an entire package of double-stuff Oreos. When he saw your torn up face however, the open package fell from his grip, and the floor became a crumbly mess.

"NOOOOO!" You dropped to your knees, ignoring the slight irritation of the carpet against the scrape you managed to get through one of the holes. There was a definite disadvantage to buying pre-ripped jeans. Your exposed knees were scraped as you tackled an especially rude girl to the ground.

"What was that?" You cried, trying to pick up the Oreo's from the ground, only to get a handful of sticky, dirty, mess.

"They're gone... all gone!" You were being especially dramatic as you let your head fall forward and your shoulders slump. "They were so young..."

"Y/N!" He snapped, "Forget the cookies! What happened to your face?"

"Woooooow," you dusted the remains of the cookies off your shins as you stood, "that's not very nice you know."

He just rolled his eyes at you, and tilted your chin up so that he could see.

"Who did you fight this time? They really got your lip," he frowned, moving your head side to side so that he could see the injury better.

"I don't know her name, don't care, that was her one and only offensive move," you giggled.

Michael rolled his eyes and squeezed your face in his hand before letting it go.

"Come on then, let's wash it out," he shook his head and motioned for you to walk up the stairs.

"Why? Do you think I'm going to get a lip infection?" You hummed, thinking as you lazily waltzed down the hallway to the bathroom.