Emo Quartet Imagines

Punk Turned Shy - Mikey Way

Reader: shy, new student, secretly sassy
Warnings: jealousy, cussing
Word count: 1723
A/N: Uwu, remember that phase when Mikes had like longish brown hair and eyeliner but he never wore his glasses? Welp, he's in this imagine. Enjoy, my babies. This was fun to write, even though I'm bad at it. :P Thanks for 200 reads💖

"Let me get this straight, you want to walk to school, alone?!" Your mom shrieked, about to pull out her own hair. You nodded, smile spread over your face in amusement over your mom's behavior. It makes you have to choke back laughter when she gets this anxious.

Sure, you usually weren't the bold type to walk to a new school by yourself, in slight fear of bullies, but you've moved around enough to know what to do when anyone fucks with you. Your dad was in the same state as you, holding back giggles threatening to erupt from his chest. He put his hand on your mother's shoulder in an effort to calm her down.

"It's fine, hun. I've already taught Y/N self defense, and everything. Isn't that right Darling?"

"Yessss, please? Just let me leave, I'm gunna be late!" Your mom nervously nods her head, opening the door to let you out. You say your goodbyes to them, walking away. Your mother poked her head out the doorway.

"Don't die!"

"I don't make promises, mom!" You yell back, speed walking to get away from your house. You lied about being late for school, leaving the house so you would show up to school early. Why? You didn't really know. You enjoyed the walk, since the first day of your new school just happened to be cloudy with almost zero light in the sky. Your outfit was very simple, just being a grey hoodie and black ripped jeans.

Your H/C hair was half blue, a weird life decision you made yesterday, tucking the blue part into your hood so that nobody saw the crazy color, hoping you wouldn't stand out. The hair dye was probably going to give people the wrong idea that you were a hardcore punk.

Nope, you were not really much of a punk physically but oh man, you were mentally the biggest female punk there was. From smoking, to listening to rock music, you were one at heart. Forever and always. But you absolutely refuse to go physical, like styling your hair into a Mohawk or wearing eyeliner.

You just silently pray to god that this school at least has a few rock kids, and not all just asshole jocks. You whistle a Smashing Pumpkins song as you stroll the sidewalk, swearing a string of curse words as the school comes into view. You go inside and yeah, you were definitely early. You make your way to the principles office, knocking on the wall as a bald, overweight man looks at you from his too short desk.

"Are you Y/N Y/L/N?" He asks with his gruff voice, clearly annoyed at your presence. You nod, drumming your fingers on your thigh. The man rolls his eyes, and it takes everything you have not to let out a bitchy comment.

"Well, classes don't start for another hour so go wonder around the school and check things out, I guess." He grumbled, not looking up from his paperwork. You start off with the football field, just walking around with your hood up, just in case you ran into someone. Your backpack feels sore on your shoulders, so you walk in the other direction, only to freeze in your tracks when you hear boys laughing very loudly from the bleachers. You practically start running, hoping that they didn't notice you, until..

"Hey! Hoodie!" You hear a male voice yell.  You slowly turn around to the bleachers, seeing four bodies in the distance, not yet able to make put their faces.

"Get up here, stranger!" The same boy yells. You mentally face palm, knowing you probably have already made some enemies. You walk up the bleachers standing directly in front of four teenagers. Wait, are these guys like you? Rock kids? You sure as hell hope so.