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satanghulu · 8 months ago

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WHEN WE WERE KIDS

✦ PAIRING: thirteen x f! reader ✦ SUMMARY: Growing up in the perspective of Thirteen’s POV. (Alternatively, Thirteen has never learned how to love anyone else but you.) ✦ WARNING: high school au, angst, hurt no comfort, reader will have a personality ✦ WC: 3.8K

PART ONE | PART TWO | FIC MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Thirteen is an ugly crier. Her parents had always encouraged her to cry but they never once told her how to make the dam stop.

She sits in the playground, tears running down her cheeks, her snot-filled voice hiccuping as she desperately scratches at her eyes.

The staff in the kindergarten must have given up on her as she sat there alone as they busied themselves with taking care of the other kids, pretending not to see her crying her heart out in the middle of the slide.

A small figure jerks at the side of her eyes and she sees a hand reach out to her. Thirteen doesn’t recognise the hand or the face when her vision clears up enough to look at it.

The light-up pink sneakers catch her attention and for a second, her sobs subside.

The girl in the strawberry shortcake shirt looks at her curiously. She holds out her hand, outstretched as if she wanted to wipe away Thirteen’s tears.

Thirteen starts crying again, a loud wail that sounds throughout the area – this prompts the staff to quickly pick up the other kids to leave the area.

The girl continues to stare curiously at her, hands now dropped to her side.

“Are you sad?” She asks.

Bewildered by the question, Thirteen stops crying. She nods once, and then twice. Then she shakes her head.

She’s not sad, particularly. She just doesn’t know how to stop crying.

There is a silence that lasts a minute as the two of them engage in a stare-off. Finally, the girl sits beside her and holds out her hand again with a determined look.

“Don’t cry anymore.”

This time, Thirteen gets a better look at the outstretched hands, now that her eyes weren’t filled with tears. They were small and splattered with paint from the earlier activities.

“I know.” Thirteen manages to choke out, hands flying up to rub at her eyes. They’re now itchy and irritating and she could feel the tell-tale tears starting up again.

“Nooo.” The girl pushes her hands away and rubs at Thirteen’s cheek gently before gasping.

“Paint.” She says.

“Paint.” Thirteen repeats, sniffling.

It turns out the paint was sticky with glue because moments later, the two girls were stuck together. Literally.

Thirteen doesn’t even realise she has stopped crying as the staff finally finally takes notice of them and rushes them to the nurse’s office.

“I’m MC.” The girl says after the nurse extracts them from each other, tutting at them gently. Thirteen’s parents are in the room, talking with the nurse while yours are nowhere to be found. Thirteen continues to trace stars into your skin, as you swing your leg on top of the table.

“I’m Thirteen.” She responds in kind. Thirteen’s parents call for her, and she hesitates to go over. She sees her sister standing in the hallway, hands crossed over her chest. But Thirteen doesn’t want to leave you just yet.

Her sister comes over to drag her by the arm but she wrenches free and runs to hug you, rubbing her cheek against you. You accept her request to be her first friend.

With a girl like Thirteen, trouble was bound to follow her wherever she went. This holds true as both of you are currently getting the scolding of your lives — Thirteen has unintentionally spilled the hot chocolate she was holding onto the carpet in the living room and then used one of your mother’s high-end shirts to wipe up the stain.

Yet, she pays it no mind. She fidgets with her shirt, stubbornly avoiding eye contact with you because she just knows she would burst out in laughter the moment your eyes met and this would send your parents into another fit of anger which is not something she wants to see again.

After being expelled from the house, both of you let out the laughter you have been holding back. Thirteen thinks that your smile is the prettiest thing in the world and your laughter the best thing she’s ever heard.

This wouldn’t be the first and last time she was scolded by your parents but this leads to her being banned from your house for the rest of her life.

She’s eight when she comes to terms with the fact that you might just be her favourite person.

She tells you so one day, as you sit on the swingset in the same playground that both of you have met. You only hum and send her a big toothy grin, with two of your front teeth missing.

“I love you too!” Is what she thinks you say but she couldn’t be sure with the lisp you had developed from the missing teeth. (That night, she lies in bed awake thinking about your words.)

You immediately proceed to try and steal her ice cream and Thirteen lets you do so. She likes seeing you happy.

Thirteen’s legs are tangled with yours as both of you giggle at whatever is playing on the screen. The popcorn that she had warmed up was nestled in the space between both of you and her hands were sticky with butter and residue as she tried to wrestle the remote from you.

“No, no!” You screeched, a high-pitched tone broken by the onset of puberty but it was ever so endearing to Thirteen.

Thirteen eventually lost the battle with you. You pouted at her, begging her to watch some rom-com movie with you. Thirteen could never resist you so she settles into the couch, ready for a bore of a movie.

She loves you really, but all you like are rom-com movies and she’s just not into that.

The movie finally starts playing and she’s already bored but she had promised you to watch it so she tries her hardest to keep her eyes glued to the screen.

The only comfort she had was you snuggling up beside her as you gave commentary on whatever scene was on the television.

When the movie gets to the climax, you have eventually quieted down and are holding your breath while clutching onto Thirteen’s sleeve.

She lets you do so, curious as to why you were so captivated. It was just a confession scene. She couldn’t find anything special about it except maybe the kissing part.

Your breath was hot on her neck as you stayed buried to her side. She turns and looks at you, eyes falling onto your lips.

She wonders what it would be like to kiss you.

A new boy had joined the class today. He had introduced himself as Mephistopheles. Thirteen doesn’t like him. He was prudish and irritating in her books.

The teacher told him to choose a seat and with his audacity, he tried to sit next to you while she was in the toilet. The moment she was back, Thirteen had pushed him away because that was her rightful seat next to you. How dare he try to take her seat?

Mephistopheles had tumbled to the ground and started complaining about her with tears running down his cheek. The teacher had sent her into timeout as a punishment and being the dutiful friend you are, you had followed her to the side of the classroom before getting called back.

The boy had ended up sitting next to you. Thirteen could barely resist the flicker of jealousy within her but you had ignored Mephistopheles and it made her feel much better.

Her timeout lasted till lunch and you had sneaked away from the rest of the class to come and her, bringing your lunchbox to share with her.

“That guy.”

“Yeah?” You responded, munching on the sandwich that Thirteen’s mum had prepared for both of you. Your face pinched into a frown at the thought of him.

“I don’t like him.” Thirteen says.

You’re usually the voice of reason between the duo but even you kept quiet for a second, swallowing around the mouthful of food.

“He keeps pulling on my hair.” You pouted, crumbs littered around the corner of your mouth. Thirteen’s face immediately turned into an ugly expression.

Seeing your crestfallen expression is Thirteen’s least favourite thing in the world.

Mephistopheles became Thirteen’s first enemy.

In retaliation for her behaviour, the teacher swapped their seats around so Thirteen was no longer sitting next to you.

With some luck (or string), Mephistopheles ends up sitting next to you. He is the founder’s son and thus he gets away with many things, even if the teacher sees it.

Thirteen dislikes him.

He even made you cry once when he tugged on your hair so hard that some of the strands had fallen off. With that, he had solidified himself as Thirteen’s mortal enemy and so, she decided to take things into her own hands.

During recess period, she sneaks away from the rest of the class (and you) to the boys’ lockers. Quietly, she opens the locker named Mephistopheles and grabs his shoes.

She fills them with glue. She lines the side of both shoes with the glue she stole from the art room and then places them back where she found them. Her hands are sticky and she stops by the washroom before meeting you in the hallway.

“Thirteen?” You questioned, voice small. Your eyes fall on her hands that she had instinctively hidden behind her back.

She puts on a wide smile, one that stretches too much and hurts her face as she pushes you ahead.

The teacher yells at the class the moment Mephistopheles comes crying to her. She punishes the whole class because she says a crime of this magnitude has to be orchestrated by a couple of the students.

Thirteen couldn’t keep the smile off her face even as she had to write a two-page reflection on the effects of bullying. She doesn’t care that the whole class was dragged into this fiasco because seeing your smile made everything worth it.

After school, you walked back home together, hand-in-hand as usual. But this time, you grabbed her hands and interlocked both of your pinkies together. Thirteen lets you do it without hesitation. She thinks she would let you do anything if you asked her to.

When Thirteen sends you to your house’s doorstop, you thank her with a sweet smile. She remembers stopping in her tracks at the sight of your smile, your front two teeth finally grown in. You had only giggled and leaned in to hug her, and then suddenly tip-toeing to kiss her on the cheeks.

Thirteen feels like she’s been punched in the guts, her stomach churning as if she had eaten playdough again.

“Thank you.” You say, eyes bright with that glean that Thirteen wants to cherish forever. Thirteen tilts her head, pretending not to understand.

It’s the first time Thirteen hides something from you.

(Thirteen never told you what she did and you never asked her about it. But she knows that there’s an implicit understanding that you already knew what she had done.)

They’re fourteen now.

You have grown taller and so has she. Thirteen misses your chubby cheeks but she thinks you’re pretty as always, even if your hair is now shorter than it used to be.

(Your mother had made you go to a salon to cut your hair because apparently in her eyes, your hair is too unkempt when long. Thirteen thinks otherwise. You had cried into her shoulders for hours when you came back.)

You stand in front of her, hands outstretched, waiting for her to hold your hands as usual.

“It’s the first day of school!” You titter on, swinging both of your hands excitedly. Thirteen watches as you stumble on, skirt swishing behind you. (Recently, her heart has been thumping more than usual. She wonders why?)

Thirteen grins as always, gripping your hand tightly and swerving you when you almost walked into a pole in your excitement. She doesn’t understand the appeal of the first day of school but you’re excited and so, she is as well.

She’s perfectly fine having just you in her entire universe. She doesn’t need anyone else.

In the first year of high school, they meet Raphael, a new addition to their duo.

He’s a boy their age and he sits next to you in Mathematics. You think he’s the coolest person you have ever met and you tell Thirteen so. She sees nothing special in him. He’s just a lanky boy with a perpetual unhappy face and he carries around a makeshift spear. (She thinks it’s simultaneously the lamest thing yet also the coolest thing ever.)

She doesn’t know what you see in him but she doesn’t see any harm in being friends with him. Sometimes, he’s even kind of cool because he lets her do anything she wants. It’s rare for anyone to let her in their vicinity nowadays.

Raphael acts older than them even though he’s only probably older than them by days – he scolds them sometimes, but mostly he lets both of you do your things. (He is. You had questioned everything about the mellow boy, and he had answered all of your questions if only to get you off his back.)

Thirteen thinks maybe she might start considering him a friend but you will always be her favourite person in the world, no, the universe.

They never leave Raphael out, not on purpose – they drag him everywhere, to the park, to Thirteen’s house, to the mall, anywhere really. One day, Raphael brandishes a skateboard and that just establishes Raphael as one of the coolest people she has ever known.

Raphael always skates beside them as they skip along, sometimes, Thirteen carries you on her back because you always end up sore if you walk too long and she doesn't like to see you in pain.

He offers to carry you sometimes, saying it’s what boys should be doing but Thirteen refuses. Taking care of you is her responsibility and even if Thirteen considers him a friend now, this is something she cannot give up.

(Adults have called her possessive and Thirteen hasn’t fully grasped what the word means but she doesn’t care. Why would someone else take care of you when she is right here?)

Thirteen furrows her eyebrow at the question.

She’s seated around a round table as part of a bonding session, with you on her right and a random girl (she presumes to be her classmate but she doesn’t care enough to remember her name), has started talking about boys.

“Do you have someone you are interested in?” The girl asks, lips cherry red from the lollipop she was licking at. This makes Thirteen’s mind wonder about you. (You have recently started wearing makeup and Thirteen has been staring at your lips more often.)

“Yeah.” She says cooly, staring at the girl straight in the eyes. She doesn’t understand the gasps from the rest of the table. Shouldn’t it already be obvious? There was always only one person in her mind.

The girl taps on her arm playfully, lashes fluttering to try and get Thirteen to spill her secret. Thirteen so badly wants to rip off her glasses and stomp them on the ground but she knows that you would be disappointed in her. She feels disgusted, shifting in her seat to lean against you so that Glasses would get the hint and stop.

When she turns her head, you have an unreadable expression on your face.

“Who?” Glasses asked, persistent and hands still pawing at her. Thirteen points a finger at you, the table suddenly falling silent before a laugh breaks out, spiraling the whole table into a mess.

“Thirteen, not her. I mean a boy.” Glasses had laughed so hard that tears were leaking out. “You’re a girl, right? You’re supposed to like a boy.”

Thirteen frowns at her statement, it somehow felt like she was being mocked.

“Why not?”

Glasses blundered for a second before straightening up. “Girls are supposed to marry boys. That’s what people say.” Even Glasses doesn’t look convinced by what she said.

She was about to open her mouth to argue more but a squeeze on her thigh caught her attention.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

That was their secret code that you had come up with in situations where they were unable to talk. Thirteen doesn’t understand why you are using it now but she stops obediently.

The awkwardness in the air fades and the topic soon shifts naturally.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

Thirteen doesn’t see the appeal in the celebration but you, a hopeless romantic, had been talking about it since the start of the month. For the past few years, she had only gotten you discounted chocolates with her minuscule allowance. Thirteen had made up her mind this year to make the day more unique for you – her parents had finally increased her allowance and she had been saving it up.

The gaudy bright pink and blue card she holds in her hand feels heavy today. After sending you home yesterday, and chasing Raphael away when he wanted to follow her, she had run to the nearest craft store to get art supplies.

She had made the whole card from scratch – buying glitter and various knick-knacks and even enlisting the help of her sister to make the card look nicer. She douses the whole card in blue glitter because that’s her favourite colour and pink is yours. (She thinks it's the best combination in the world.)

You spot her in the distance, hands shooting up immediately to wave her over. Her seat is next to yours for the first period, and so she makes her way over, keeping the card and box of handmade chocolate behind her back.

Her heart is in her throat. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous either, but she is. Her eyes stay glued to your smile until you pull out the chair, and she sees the stack of letters on your desk. A pit grows in her stomach and it must show on her face because you stare at her.

“Why are you sad?” You questioned, only looking at her. You bring up both hands to squash Thirteen’s cheeks together, making silly faces in an attempt to cheer her up.

Her grip on her presents tightened and she stared at the pile on your desk as if they had done something to personally wronged her.

“Did many people give you gifts?” Her voice comes out all wrong, warbled, and shaky.

You nod, still keeping your eyes on her.

“But I don’t care about those. I’m waiting for your chocolates!” You mentioned, swiping the letters and gifts onto the floor before moving your chair to face you. You make grabby hands at her, clearly expectant.

The bundle of nerves inside her loosened just a bit.

“Mine?” Thirteen says. Her arms are getting tired from hiding the items behind her back so she presented it to you. Your smile lights up your face and you grab the card to hug it against your chest.

“I love you!” You proudly declare, cheekily pinching Thirteen’s side. You gently set the box of chocolates and her letter on your desk before reaching into your bag to pull out a similar-looking card.

“Tada!” You hold out the card to her – it was slightly crumpled around the edges but Thirteen notices that you had scribbled blue hearts all around the title.

“Blue hearts?” Thirteen asked, a similar lip-splitting smile on her face.

“You’re blue and I’m pink.” You explain simply, before brandishing a box of chocolate to her. “I may have burnt some of them so just eat one and throw away the rest.” You say sheepishly, eyes widening as Thirteen immediately unwraps the ribbon to open it.

Thirteen pops one into her mouth, chewing it and even though she could taste the burnt tinge in the roof of her mouth, it is the best chocolate she had ever eaten in her life. She eats a few more and tells you so.

“You’re so silly.” You rolled your eyes and nudged her shoulder but she could tell that you were pleased with her compliment, back straight and swinging your legs.

(She secretly hopes this tradition will continue to happen every year.)

They’re out at a party today. Candy, Thirteen’s sister, had extended an invitation to them. (You think it’s because Candy had accidentally broken one of Thirteen’s props for a prank and had felt apologetic but Thirteen thinks otherwise.)

Giggling and all dressed up, you knock on Raphael’s door, waiting for the boy to come and open the door.

“What do you want?” His voice, curt as usual, holds a hint of curiosity this time as he peers at them in the small gap in the door that he had created.

Thirteen blows a raspberry at him. “We’re going to a party!” You pull on her arm, a silent plea for her to behave herself.

Raphael looks at you and then he looks at Thirteen before shutting the door — but Thirteen sticks her leg into the gap before wincing at the impact as Raphael tries to push her leg out.

“You’re coming with us.” Thirteen declared, finally managing to manhandle the door and forcing it open.

Raphael only sighs as the door inches wide.

Thirteen is in the middle of the room, dancing her heart out with her hips swaying to the beat. She had lost you in the crowd, and Raphael had probably skulked away to the kitchen to keep up with his mysterious air.

She’s in the midst of a crowd, the steady bass of the music thumping through her, and people are crowding her.

She doesn’t mind the attention for once, playing up all her charms and winking to the people who dared come up to her. She thinks that maybe she’s been craving for attention and for someone to want her more than she had thought.

But a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach starts developing and soon enough, she stumbles off to the side of the room, holding onto the wall for support.

She wonders what it would take for someone to love a person like her.

Raphael had once said that Thirteen and you must have once been lovers in another life (Thirteen thinks so too) because she could feel your stare on her and sure enough, a hand that she knows is yours, was placed on her back.

Thirteen finds it intriguing too. Through all the blurs of faces, your face stands out as the only clear one in the sea.

You’re looking at her again with amusement, but Thirteen feels like her head is underwater, she can’t hear you but all she can see is your soft pink lips. The smell of something sweet wraps around her, and she can’t help but think of your strawberry lipgloss, the one she gave you for your birthday.

If she kisses you now, would you push her away?

Her mouth opens and what comes out is the dinner that her mother had whipped out instead of words.

“Thirteen!”

She had puked on you.

a/n▸ vaguely inspired by a fic I read like 8 years ago, which unfortunately has been deleted. but it is a testament to how much it changed my brain chemistry LOL also I was supposed to finish the entire fic for obey me month, @obeymetournaments but life got me in a chokehold so im making it multi-chaptered and a PSA to finish this in the future 😭

#im a sucker for this woman if you couldn't tell #satangwrites: stuck by the glue #satangwrites #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me swd #shall we date om #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me thirteen #thirteen #obey me thirteen x you #thirteen x you #thirteen x reader #obey me month

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