You’re my favourite!
Fanfiction
Ship: Taron x female reader
Word Count (1.chapter): 704
Additional Tags: angst, kissing, fluff, smut
I
“Yes mom, I fucking get that you don’t want me to leave, but I can’t stay in the same house as the dick, that you call your boyfriend.” I yelled at my mom.
“Honey, you know that I wanna make it work, and that I want you to be happy here, as well, but you don’t really make that easy, you know?” my mom tried to calm me down.
I had gotten into a huge fight again with her boyfriend. He didn’t like me, and I didn’t like him. I didn’t know what the big deal was. I wanted to move out to give them their space and suddenly my mom acted like she cared what happened to me.
“Ok, now it’s my fault?” I yelled in disbelieve.
“I never said that, just…”
I didn’t let her finish, “No, you know what? I am gonna move to London and you’re just gonna have to live with that. (Y/F/N)(Your friends name) will be here in half an hour and pick me up. Good bye mom.” I tried to say as calm as I could, while tears started welling up in my eyes.
The one bag I took with me was already packed and was not that big either. The good memories I made at this place already happened about ten years ago and after that everything went down.
I sat on my bed and waited desperately for (Y/F/N), when finally, the doorbell ring.
The bag suddenly appeared a lot heavier, now that everything stared to get real. My mind told me that I was making the biggest mistake I could possibly make, but I decided to listen to my heart.
I ran down the stairs, nearly ripped the door out of the wall, as I opened it, and sprang into my friend’s car.
“Hey babe” she said smiling, “ready to start your new life?”
I nodded and we drove off.
I knew (Y/F/N) since elementary school and she was always there for me when I was about to throw myself off a building, because I thought that my life didn’t have a meaning anymore.
Now I was 22, and I know what you’re thinking: “If it was so horrible, why did she stay at home for so long?” And to be honest, I don’t really know.
Obviously, when I was 11 and my mother first met her new boyfriend, I was too young to move out, and my father was never an option, since he was a violent alcoholic. When I was old enough to move out, I always made up excuses, which earlier I thought, were perfectly reasonable reasons that prevented me from fleeing.
I always said that I didn’t have enough money, but who was I kidding? If you really want something, you just have to get a job, and save, or whatever.
But I guess it’s normal. Moving out is scary, even now, when I get to move in with my best friend. She was my age, but her parents were first of all nice, and secondly rich.
She moved to London two years ago, to what I had to convince her to, since she didn’t wanna abandon me.
Her apartment wasn’t big, but it sure was big enough for the two of us. (Y/F/N) had a boyfriend anyways, and she was at his place a lot. I actually already knew him and he was a nice guy. Though, if I had a boyfriend that pretty I’d be terrified that he’d cheat on me.
(Y/F/N) of course, didn’t have that kind of problems since she was freaking beautiful. She seriously was the hottest women I had ever seen.
“So, how’d your mom take it?” she asked softly.
She was pretty much the only person I talked to about my mother, but she knew that I didn’t like to do it a lot.
“Fine I guess,” I replied, “Of course, she yelled at me, and I’m pretty sure that she thought that I was joking about me moving out, or that I wouldn’t have the guts to do it. I bet she won’t notice that I’m gone until tomorrow. Whatever…” I stated grinning, “We’re roommates” I screamed.
“Yass giiirl. I’m so happy.”