it's NOT the usual saint good girl with the evil bad boy

I Surrender

did i get the title from that one song by hillsong? absolutely. i love my terrible, narcissistic, sociopathic solipsist with a god complex. i also love my mullet wearing evil baby boy. its a problem. here u go enjoy


”Aw, shit. I think I’m in love.” Summer was over, school was back in session, and the students of Derry High School were less than ecstatic, to understate it. Same faces, as always; when you live in the same, small New England town your whole life, everyone knows everyone (whether they want to or not). Or, at least, that was the policy until you showed up. It was as if a sudden jolt of energy suddenly surged through the building; everyone seemed to automatically sense that there was a new girl in their midst. The Bowers Gang, situated at their usual place below the steps, watched the students shuffle into school with glaring eyes. When Henry himself set his eyes on you, all sorts of thoughts rushed through his head. “I say we go give our new classmate a proper introduction. Don’t you, boys?” he smirked.

”Oh, this’ll be fun,” Patrick agreed. He never ceased to amaze himself. What fun he’d have figuring out your place in his little world! Like all others, you’d soon learn to bend to his will. Everyone did, why should you be any different? “And where are you headed to this fine morning, little dove?” he asked as they approached you, daring to place his arm around you shoulder.

Oh, no, you thought. Not this early. “Okay, no.” You threw his arm off your shoulders; the others scoffed or “ooooh’d.” “Go bother some other poor soul. I don’t put up with this.” You pushed through the wall of people blocking you; a lanky, bleach blond, a heavier boy with a snapback oh his head, and another tall blond with a mullet.

”Watch how you talk to my friend there, babe,” mullet guy said. He walked up to you, getting in your face, until you were backed into a tree trunk with nowhere to go. The other lanky tall boy, the one with dark hair, got up in your space from the side. Starting to panic, throat closing up, you grabbed your Miraculous Medal handing off of your necklace and drew your closed fists to your chest.

”Well now, what’s this?” the creepy boy to your side asked. Grabbing your hands and trying to pry them open, he smirked even wider when you yanked away from him, desperately searching for a way out. “Oh, come on now, you don’t trust me? I don’t bite… sometimes,” he winked. He was right up in your face now, though the blond was still in front of you. He got closer and closer, forcing his leg between yours so you could barely move.

”You’re pretty. I’m gonna have fun with you,” he whispered, face almost touching yours. You closed your eyes shut and turned your head away from the both of them. “Whatcha think, Pat? I say we keep her,” he smirked.

”Please get away from me.” Your voice was barely audible and you sounded like you were about to cry. the boys got a kick out of that. “I’m not confortable with this. Please just leave me alone.”

”Now why would we wanna do that, dove? You’re just too much fun,” spoke the one now identified as “Pat”. He reached his hand into the bag still resting on your shoulder, and pulled out your beloved Bible; the edges were worn and there were multicolored tabs sticking out all over the place. The only things still perfectly intact were the golden engraving that read “HOLY BIBLE” and the message of spiritual salvation written inside. “Oh no,” he laughed, “Look what we got here boys! God’s little prude!”

Mullet boy grinned and chuckled. “Damn! She’s a Jesus freak? Oh, this just got so much better.”

Pat (which, you assumed, was short for Patrick) got up close to you again. “I can’t wait to show you a good time later, babe. I’ll have you on your knees worshiping me, and your ‘God’ can watch.”

This was the tipping point. You could handle the mockery and the bullying for your faith. You knew that there was a place for you in the Kingdom of God when all was said and done, and what people said to try to hurt you would never be able to take the love of God away from you. But you would not sit idly by and let some bullies disrespect you God, your creator, your father, your infinite love, your savior, and theirs (whether they believed in him or not).

“Don’t ever speak about my Savior like that EVER again. I don’t care if you mock me, I don’t care if you bully me, I don’t care if you antagonize me every day until I leave this town. You do not EVER disrespect my faith. I’ll pray for you through the intercession of ALL the saints and angels, because ‘my God’ is a faithful and forgiving God. But I am not going to let you blaspheme His name to my face. Now leave me alone and give me back my Bible!” you finished, snatching it out of Patrick’s hand before any of them had the chance to come back with a rebuttal.

”Dude…” Vic started, as they watched her quickly pacing toward the front door, “That was kinda hot.”

The day went by for you relatively quickly. You thankfully had no classes with those awful boys who had been harassing you that morning. Other than that and having to introduce yourself/be introduced in every class and then having to be seated in the middle of a bunch of people you’d never met, your day was not bad. Some sophomore in your English class even had the kindness to talk to you and make you feel less out of place. (His name was Bill, he said, and the school had let him skip a level of English because he tested out of it.) When you heard on the afternoon announcements that they were beginning auditions for the fall play (The Crucible, one you’d already done before, and one you enjoyed), you made a mental note to check out the department.

Heading out for the day through the big double doors, your eyes flitted to all of your surroundings, the thought of having to face that terrible group of boys again scaring you like nothing else. You glanced over to the far end of the quad at the same time Bill waved to you, smiling. “Have a good night, (Y/N)!” he yelled, before turning back to his friends.

One boy with dark hair and thick glasses let his jaw drop when you actually waved back and said, “Thanks Bill, you too!”

You were startled by a voice jumping out of nowhere. “Oh, really now, bird? St- st- stuttering Bill? You’d rather spend your precious time with him?” It was Patrick again. You internally cringed, but kept a straight-faced façade. “You know,” he said, circling about you like a vulture, “My offer still stands.” He gave you a wink before backing you into the wall below the steps, hands on either side of your head. He rested one arm above your head and his hand shot down to grab yours. If some random bystander had happened to walk by the two of you, they might’ve even mistaken you for sweethearts.

But the both of you knew this wasn’t so.

His hand clasped around yours, he drew it up to his chest. Leaning down, he whispered in your ear, “I can teach you how to pray.” Faces almost touching, reminiscent of the encounter from that morning, you received a devilish grin. If you weren’t so absolutely mortified, you might’ve even considered his smile to be a lovely one.

”I know how to pray just fine, thank you. Maybe someone ought to teach you.” With that, you kicked him in his right shin. Dropping your hand and bending over to nurse his wounded leg (and ego, no doubt), you ran off across the street and turned the corner to the nearest church. You hurried inside, blessing God that people were currently receiving Reconciliation.

You sat in a pew towards the back, waiting for the rest of the ley people to confess their sins before you did. You prayed and prayed, asking the Trinity to forgive you for your violent outburst. You prayed for the boys who harassed you. You prayed for Bill. And you prayed just a little extra bit more for Patrick. And then you were the only one left to confess to the priest.

”Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been… about 2 weeks since my last confession,” you said as you sat down behind the screen, not quite ready yet to be seen by this priest. “I’ve been especially bitter today. And I held onto a grudge I know I shouldn’t’ve. And I kicked a boy just before I came here. I’ve had a tough day. I know that’s not an excuse, but it is true.”

”Thank you for your confession. We all have tough days. And it’s especially easy for us to sin on those days. But I believe it takes good self discipline and a strong faith in God for you to be so prompt in confessing these sins. Usually, it takes people a couple of weeks, or months, or they never to it at all. So props to you!” he chuckled, and you did too.

”I have a feeling, Father, you might be hearing from me often. Not that I want to sin, but… there’s a boy at school. A mean boy. He and his friends mock me and they harass me for my faith. The boy I kicked? He was being… obscene, and blasphemous and… oh gosh, I must sound so self-righteous. I know that’s not a reason to hurt someone but I… I panicked. So I kicked him and I ran straight here because I just felt so awful about it. The worst part is, I know it will just be worse tomorrow.”

”This boy sounds like he could use some prayers.”

”I pray for him. I prayed for him just now, as I was waiting. And his friends. They think I’m weird, but… if nothing else, it makes me feel better. And I know that God is listening to what I say, even if they don’t.”

”Right you are about that. Look, you are obviously very regretful of what you’ve done. And you sure sound like you’ll try not to do it again. And God loves to see that in people. Go say an Our Father, a Hail Mary, and a Glory Be. I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

You returned to your pew in the back corner, quietly finished your penance, gathered up your belongings, and left. Walking out the door to the front steps, you checked your watch. It was about 5 P.M. now. You trekked back to the school parking lot to grab your car and head home; your mother was worried sick by now, you knew.

You were hit by an intrusive thought when your car finally came into view. What if you see those terrible boys again? You prayed that you wouldn’t. You were already so drained and didn’t want to go through the trouble of being harassed by those boys again.

And you were suddenly hit with a passage from a book you once read. “Everything that happens once can never happen again. But what happens twice will surely happen a third time.” And unfortunately, the book was right.

”Oh look! God’s little prude came back to hang with us!” Gross. That blonde mullet boy. Oh well, you thought, the lesser of two evils. He and his posse must’ve been smoking in his car just before you arrived; he smelled thickly of smoke and had a cigarette hanging between his fingers.

He grinned smugly, walking closer and closer to you, the other bleach blond and the larger boy following him a few steps behind. “You gave Patty-boy quite the kick earlier. Had to go home to ice it. It’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You’re not as perfect as you pretend to be, huh?”

He was right in front of you now, but you weren’t entirely cornered. You weren’t backed up against your car and there were a few inches between you and him. “I never said I was perfect. I know I’m not perfect. I’m human. I hope your friend feels better. Tell him I said sorry.” You turned and unlocked your car, desperate to get away from this boy who apparently was such a heavy smoker a cloud seemed to be following him around; you could barely breathe.

He grabbed your arm roughly. “Now why would I do that when you can come on and tell him yourself?” He nodded his head over to a blue Trans Am. “Why don’t you come on with us? We’ll have a good time.”

”I don’t think so. I have better things to do than willingly get into a car with a bunch of boys who I barely know, who’ve been harassing me all day. Thanks for the offer, though.”

You opened your door, got in, and closed it, setting your bag and your book in the passenger seat. Pulling out of your spot, you got a quick glance at the three of them walking back to their own car. Hooligans, you thought.

The next day, to your surprise as well as theirs, you sought them out first. You marched right up to Patrick and said, without a hint of hesitation, “Sorry for kicking you in the leg. I hope you’re okay.

He gave you a strange look before grinning down at you. “Nah. I thought it was pretty kinky, actually. Maybe next time we fool around we see what other kinda stuff you’re into,” he suggested, like a creep. Any pleasantness in your expression vanished.

”Okay. Goodbye.” You turned on your heel and went to walk away before, once again, a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you back.

Backing you into the side of the steps, he brushed some stray hairs out of your face before grabbing your chin and forcing you into a rough kiss.

Your first kiss. And you didn’t like it at all.

Making an exasperated noise, you pushed against his chest, urging him to back off. “DUDE! What the heck? That was so not okay! That’s literally sexual assault? Don’t you know how messed up that is?” you outburst. Needless to say, you were not going to deal with this in a calm, civil manner. You were enraged.

Patrick, however, was having a field day. By far, you must’ve been the best creation his brain had ever come up with. If he were any other person, he might’ve even said “She can’t be real,” but he knew that was already the case. At any rate, toying with you was the highlight of his day, without a doubt. “Aw, come on babe, don’t act like you didn’t like it. Don’t you love the rush you get when you know you just committed a sin?”

The smarmy bastard, you thought, quickly apologizing to Jesus for your outburst as well as bad language. “Let’s get one thing straight- I didn’t sin just now. That was you. All you. And I’m leaving now.”

“Better hope your boyfriend Billy don’t hear about this! I’d hate for him to get his little heart broke!” You looked back at him and merely rolled your eyes. “Or your other boyfriend Henry! You know, he hates competition!” But by this time you were up the stairs and ito the building. Today was going to be a long day.

And this was going to be a long year.


Hola chicas!! I’m not really sure what this is but I mean if y’all want more then I can make more.

And maybe if i do that then it will start to make more sense.

In case you can’t tell, my worst habit is trying to make my fics short, when in all honesty they’re gonna end up being like entire novelas.

Anyways feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

PLEASE reblog if u enjoy dis trash I love validation

AND PLEASE request anything u want i need to write more and i love u all