Kidnapped(?) - Malleus x reader
You were sick of the taxes imposed by the aristocrats in your already poverty stricken village. Your idea of a solution? Kidnap their young master , and make them reduce taxes as the ransom, of course. Only problem is that you went into the wrong manor and kidnapped the wrong young master.
crossposted from my ao3!
It’s far too late for a sane person to be awake, let alone breaking into an aristocratic manor, but here you are, perched atop a wrought iron fence. You inhale deeply, the cool night air doing nothing to calm the wild thudding of your heart. Sure, you’ve trespassed on fancy estates before—who hasn’t?—but this time, you’re aiming high. Really high.
Tonight, you’re going to kidnap the young master.
It sounded less ridiculous in your head, but the village’s plight had pushed you this far. Unfair taxes, people going hungry, all thanks to the greed of the lord’s family holed up in their luxurious estate. Someone needed to stand up for the people. That someone just happened to be you.
You’d never kidnapped anyone before, but how hard could it be? Grab the rich guy, ask for a ransom—specifically, less ridiculous taxes—and stroll away like a hero. Easy.
The manor looms in front of you, all dark windows and dramatic architecture. It's almost too easy to slip past the guards. You start to wonder if they’re just really bad at their jobs or if this is some elaborate setup. Still, you can’t help but smirk. You’re so good at this, it’s almost criminal.
Well, it is criminal. But you know, details.
Inside, the place is eerily quiet. Every shadow seems to be watching you as you slink through the halls, making your way toward the young master’s room. You’ve heard the rumors—aloof, cold, basically allergic to feelings. Intimidating him into compliance? Piece of cake.
After a few minutes of creeping around like a ninja, you find a room with the door slightly ajar. A faint light flickers inside. Jackpot. You steady your breath, grip your very intimidating (okay, slightly makeshift) weapon, and push the door open.
Sitting at a desk, seemingly unfazed by your dramatic entrance, is the young master.
“Ah,” he says, turning slowly to look at you. There’s a glimmer of... curiosity? in his eyes. “A visitor. How... unexpected.”
You blink. This is not going to plan. Where’s the panic? The yelling for help? The appropriate reaction to being ambushed at night?
Determined to salvage the situation, you wave your weapon and try your best "intimidating kidnapper" voice. “You’re coming with me! I’m here to kidnap you, and if you want to see your precious manor again, you’ll lower the village taxes!”
There’s a beat of silence.
The young master raises an eyebrow. “You’re kidnapping me? How... amusing.”
Amusing? You falter. “This isn’t a joke,” you insist, shaking your weapon for emphasis. “I’m serious! Ransom, taxes, starving villagers—ringing any bells?”
Instead of, say, panicking or fleeing, the young master stands up from his chair, all calm and composed, like this is a perfectly normal Tuesday night activity. “Very well. I suppose I should humor you.”
You blink again, utterly at a loss. “Wait... you’re just agreeing to this?”
“Of course.” He tilts his head, giving you a strange, intrigued look. “I’ve never been kidnapped before. It sounds rather... interesting.”
And just like that, he strolls toward the door as if this is his idea. You scramble to follow, wondering what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.
As you lead him through the estate, you’re still grappling with the bizarre reality of the situation. Here you are, attempting to kidnap someone, and the guy is practically rolling out a red carpet for you.
“You know,” you mutter, glancing over at him, “most people don’t just let themselves be kidnapped. It’s not really how this works.”
He turns to you with a serene smile that’s entirely too pleasant for a hostage. “Why should I resist? You don’t seem the type to harm me.”
You narrow your eyes. Is he flirting? Intentionally or not, this guy’s nerve is off the charts.
“I didn’t catch your name,” he says suddenly, voice smooth as silk.
“I’m not giving my name to my hostage,” you snap back. This is Kidnapping 101.
“Ah, of course.” He nods, clearly amused. “Then I’ll introduce myself instead. I am Malleus Draconia.”
Your stomach drops to the floor. Malleus Draconia. THE Malleus Draconia. The name practically vibrates with power and danger, and you suddenly realize you’ve made a colossal mistake. You haven’t kidnapped the young master of the manor—you’ve kidnapped the prince of the fae.
“Oh no,” you mutter, horror creeping into your voice. “Oh no, oh no, this is bad. This is really bad.”
Malleus watches you with mild amusement, an eyebrow raised. “Why the sudden distress?”
You whirl on him. “You’re Malleus Draconia! I— I wasn’t supposed to kidnap you! This is a mistake—like, a huge mistake. I’ll just let you go and we can pretend this never happened, okay?”
But instead of looking concerned, Malleus just smiles wider, a wicked little gleam in his eyes. “Let me go? But I’m having so much fun.”
You gape at him. “You... want to stay kidnapped?”
“Indeed.” He seems completely unbothered by the sheer absurdity of the situation. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve had such an engaging evening.”
Well. This is officially the weirdest night of your life.
The night only gets stranger when you run into his retainers.
“Young Master!” a voice bellows, and you look up to see a tall, green-haired fae charging toward you, fury in his eyes. “What is going on here?!”
Before you can even explain, Malleus casually steps in. “Ah, Sebek. Allow me to introduce my kidnapper.”
Sebek freezes mid-charge, eyes wide. “Y-Your... kidnapper?!”
Malleus nods with an unnervingly calm smile. “Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Sebek’s brain seems to short-circuit, and he storms off, shouting something about telling Lilia and Silver. You groan, burying your face in your hands. “This is a disaster.”
Malleus, of course, chuckles softly beside you. “On the contrary. I think it’s rather amusing.”
Of course he does.
By the time Lilia and Silver arrive, you’ve already resigned yourself to your fate. At least they’ll make your execution quick, right?
But Lilia just grins mischievously, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Well, well. This is certainly the most interesting kidnapping I’ve seen in centuries.”
Silver, on the other hand, just raises a brow. “He seems to be enjoying himself.”
Malleus smiles at you, as though being abducted by a random stranger is the highlight of his week. “Quite.”
You’re about to protest when Malleus turns to his retainers with a firm nod. “I’d like to speak to my kidnapper alone.”
Sebek looks like he’s going to explode, but Malleus’s sharp glance shuts him up. Lilia throws you a wink as they all leave, and just like that, you’re alone with the fae prince. Again.
Malleus steps closer, his calm mask slipping just a little. “You know, I’ve grown quite fond of this little adventure.”
You blink up at him. “Are you serious?”
He tilts his head, lips quirking into a smile. “I propose a deal. I’ll help your village with the taxes. In return, you’ll... continue kidnapping me.”
Your jaw drops. “Wait... you want me to keep kidnapping you?”
“Yes. It’s been rather fun.” His eyes twinkle with amusement. “What do you say?”
You sigh, rubbing your temples. “This is the weirdest deal I’ve ever made.”
Malleus grins, entirely too pleased with himself. “Wonderful. Now, shall we shake on it?”
And so, your bizarre, extremely non-traditional kidnapping arrangement begins.
Every few days, it’s the same: you sneak into his manor (more like casually walk in, since he always leaves the window open for you now), and the two of you embark on whatever adventure catches your whimsy. Sometimes it’s sneaking into human markets where Malleus marvels at the mundane—like street food or ridiculous trinkets. Other times, you explore abandoned castles with winding, forgotten hallways that echo with untold stories.
It’s almost normal now, the way he expects you to “abduct” him with little more than a raised eyebrow and a soft chuckle as you half-heartedly demand his presence for another outing. The most feared prince of the fae is now, apparently, your willing partner in crime.
The first time you take him to a local fair, though, you realize just how out of his element he truly is. Malleus spends a good twenty minutes, completely entranced, watching a cotton candy machine.
“Is it... magic?” he asks, his (very pretty) eyes locked onto the swirling pink clouds as the vendor twirls the sugary fluff onto a stick.
You can’t help but laugh, the sound coming out far more amused than you intended. “Nope. Just sugar spun into fluff. You’ve really never seen this before?”
Malleus watches the process with a reverence usually reserved for ancient relics, finally accepting the cotton candy as if it’s some kind of delicate treasure. He takes a cautious bite, his expression lighting up like a child’s.
“Incredible,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “It dissolves on the tongue.”
You bite back another laugh at the sight of this powerful fae prince, someone who commands fear from almost everyone around him, completely taken by spun sugar. “Glad you like it.”
After that, it’s a night of him eagerly trying every strange, sticky fair food he can find, utterly fascinated by things as simple as corn dogs and funnel cake. You can't decide if it’s endearing or a little embarrassing, but either way, you’re having more fun than you’ve had in a long time.
As the weeks pass, the more you look forward to your little "kidnapping" escapades, and that in itself is a whole other problem. Malleus’s wide-eyed curiosity about the human world is... strangely adorable, and while he’s still every bit the regal fae prince, there’s something endearing about the way he asks you questions about everyday things with such genuine interest. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, his quiet intelligence making for great conversation—when he’s not completely sidetracked by things like human street food.
The more time you spend with him, the harder it becomes to ignore the truth creeping up on you. You’re starting to fall for him. It’s ridiculous, and yet... here you are.
Of course, not everything goes smoothly.
“Human!” Sebek shouts dramatically one afternoon as you and Malleus return from yet another outing. “How dare you abduct the Young Master again!”
You roll your eyes, half-expecting this by now. “Sebek, I’ve told you before. He wants me to kidnap him.”
Sebek bristles, sputtering indignantly, his green hair practically standing on end. “Lies! The Young Master would never allow—”
“Sebek,” Malleus interrupts, his tone calm, but with that unmistakable edge that immediately silences his retainer. “I went willingly. Again.”
Sebek’s jaw drops, looking like someone just told him the sky isn’t blue. “But... Young Master...”
Malleus gives him a slow, deliberate look, his lips curving into a faint, almost predatory smile. “You should try it sometime. You may find it... enlightening. Although,” he turns to you, his voice soft but with an unmistakable possessiveness, “you’ll have to find another human. This one is already mine.”
Your breath hitches as Malleus’s words hang in the air, and you can't help but feel your heart skip a beat. Sebek, meanwhile, looks utterly scandalized, his eyes wide as saucers. Lilia, who has been watching the whole thing with far too much amusement, claps Sebek on the back.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Lilia chuckles. “Let them have their fun.”
Sebek looks like he's about to explode, but instead storms off, muttering something about propriety, while Silver smirks quietly from the sidelines.
One night, after another "kidnapping," you find yourself sitting beside Malleus on a hill overlooking the village, the faint glow of the fair still visible in the distance. The stars hang bright overhead, and there’s a soft stillness between you as the cool air nips at your skin.
Malleus’s voice breaks the quiet, low and thoughtful. “You’ve given me more than I expected.”
You glance at him, curious. “What do you mean?”
He turns to you, his dark eyes holding a depth you hadn’t seen before. “Companionship. I hadn’t realized how much I longed for it until... until you.”
Your heart does something funny at his words, the raw sincerity of them tugging at something deep inside you. Without thinking, you reach out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, your fingertips grazing his skin. The air between you seems to still.
“I’ve grown... quite fond of you,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.
You swallow, feeling your pulse quicken. “Malleus, I—”
But before you can find the words, Malleus leans in, his eyes never leaving yours, and you feel the warmth of his hand gently cup your cheek. The world seems to fade away as you both hover there, caught between anticipation and something more.
“I do believe,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your skin as his eyes darken with something you can’t quite name, “that I’m falling for you, my little kidnapper.”
Your heart stutters, and before you know it, you’re closing the space between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. For a moment, everything else ceases to matter—no fair, no adventures, no strange arrangements. Just the two of you, finally giving in to the pull that’s been drawing you together for weeks.
When you pull back, breathless, Malleus smiles, and it’s the softest, most genuine smile you’ve ever seen from him. “Does this mean,” he says, his voice still low and teasing, “you’ll continue kidnapping me?”
You laugh softly, feeling the warmth of his words settle deep in your chest. “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
Malleus grins, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “No, I suppose not.”
And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.
This is my first time posting here so i have no idea what i'm doing and the formatting is probably off because i'm on mobile but i'll slowly figure it out.
Masterlist
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Unsettling
Inspired by this post. I wrote this late at night, zoning out on cold medicine while attempting to recover from a booster shot, so I can’t vouch for the quality 😅:
Dinner had been going great as far as Buck could tell. He and Tommy were still in the figuring it out stage of things, but a meal with Chim and Maddie felt like a step in the right direction; at least, up until the moment his sister unsuspectingly guided the conversation into a minefield.
“So, Tommy,” she began between bites of salad, “I have to say, I was really surprised when my brother told me about your date — not so much in terms of the pronouns of it all, but because the way he told it, you were way more focused on Eddie when you two met.”
Tommy shrugged, pushing around the remainders of his own plate, “Course correction’s a skill you hone when you’re tangling with baby gays— not that I’m sure Eddie even counts in that department. At this rate he’s essentially embryonic. Like, indefinitely.” Maddie cocked her head to the side, whatever follow up she may have had fading away into a loaded silence that descended over the room.
“H-huh,” Chimney chuckled unevenly, “well, uh, I don’t want to speak for anyone that’s not here but I’m pretty sure—“
“Wait,” Buck interrupted, brows knitting together, “You were trying to date Eddie?”
“Uh, yeah,” Tommy replied, as if it was painfully obvious, “At least, until I realized where things stood with him, and then I—
“Course corrected?” Buck finished, “With me. Your second choice.”
“Oh, like I’m not your second choice. Seriously, Evan, don’t be dramatic.”
“Maddie, honey,” Chimney broke in, rising out of his seat, “why don’t we go get dessert ready?”
“Ready?” Maddie repeated, eyes darting between her brother and his date, “It’s already—“
“What are you talking about?” Buck pressed, far too preoccupied with his burgeoning confusion to notice Chimney coaxing his quietly protesting sister out of the room.
Tommy rolled his eyes, pointedly setting his fork down, “Oh come on. Eddie’s on a special level of oblivious— and I mean, no surprise there, Catholicism builds its closets nice and sturdy— but you can’t expect me to believe you’re just as clueless, Mr. Trying to get my attention by pulling another boy’s pigtails.”
“Wha— No,” Buck sputtered, his breath hitching strangely and tripping him up, “Th-that wasn’t about Eddie. He’s not even— and even if he was, we’re not… I mean, we wouldn’t.”
“Right, because you’re scared it would burst the little bubble you two live in where you can have your cake and call it normal friendship,” Tommy concluded, his tone once again gratingly matter of fact, “Face it. A relationship with Eddie is heavy lifting from any angle, so we both opted out for each other, no harm, no foul.” Buck blinked, momentarily stunned into silence as his mind tried and failed to construct a solid counter to the conclusion Tommy had all but thrown in his face. All of it made sense, perhaps more sense than the raw foundations of yet another relationship built on someone else’s initiative and his own need to reach for any degree of being wanted, no matter how scant. The truth of it all stung and made his heart beat faster than he could stand, but at the same time there was something freeing in all that chaos.
“He’s not,” Buck managed softly.
“Gay?” Tommy replied, “Right, and Elton John just needs to meet the right girl.”
Buck shook his head, “No, I mean, he’s not heavy lifting or whatever you said. If you think that, you don’t know him at all— a-and maybe you don’t know me either if you think I’d feel that way.”
“Ev—“
“It’s Buck. And if all of this was settling then I guess you were right the first time: I’m not ready.” Tommy eyed him for a beat before sighing and pushing his chair back from the table.
“At least you’re consistent,” he said as he stood and began making his way to the front door, “A little slow on the draw but still miles more self aware than your buddy. I’d say good luck pulling him out of Narnia, but I’m not gonna hold my breath.” Buck didn’t respond, instead opting to drop his gaze to the floor and let his racing thoughts drown out his surroundings until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m guessing you heard all that?” He asked.
“Sorry,” Maddie said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, “The acoustics down here are pretty unforgiving, privacy-wise.
“Sorry I ruined dinner,” he muttered.
“Technically,” Maddie reasoned, “I started it, so—-“
“I vote we blame no Buckley or Hans ,” Chimney said, dropping into the seat Tommy had vacated, “and we call this a win because screw that guy. I’m all for second chances but that dude’s practically on his fourth and he just keeps blowing it.”
“What am i supposed to do now?” Buck asked, turning to look up at his sister.
Maddie offered him a small, tight-lipped smile, “it’s like I said before: whatever you need to do, you’ll do it in your own time.”
“Right, but what if I screw it all up? He’s going through so much right now already and I don’t want to be one more thing he has to deal with.”
“I mean, maybe him going through things is the silver lining, you know? He’s figuring out his future and there’s room for you to work out where—not if— you fit in all of that. Because, for what it’s worth, I can’t picture a scenario where you two don’t figure it out. I can’t promise it’ll go the way you want it to, but I think you owe it to each other to talk.”
Chimney nodded, “As a daily witness to you guys being… well, you, I second that. And who knows? Maybe it all does work out. You communicate instead of fighting in a supermarket or shoving each other on a basketball court, and before you know it, you’re up close and personal with that glorious mustache of his.”
“Oh, Howie,” Maddie scoffed, “that mustache is definitely just a phase. One that maybe proves my point, but a phase nonetheless.”
“You bite your tongue. It’s beautiful and here to stay.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there something you need to tell Eddie? Or, his facial hair?”
For the second time that evening, Buck let the conversation fade into the background of his thoughts; or rather, the one thought that all the rest had melded into.
He loved Eddie—was in love with Eddie— and as terrifying as it was, the truth of it loomed too large to be reburied or ignored. He didn’t know if time and talking were the remedies his family made them out to be, but if there was any chance at all in them, he was stubborn enough to find out. The way he saw it, he’d practically been holding his breath all this time without knowing anyway, so what was a little while longer if it meant Eddie at the finish line? Unlike a certain helicopter pilot, Buck had the stamina not to settle.
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Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx
beyond it
WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood
PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader
NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕
SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.
It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.
You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.
“Hey, dollface, rough night?”
This fucking guy.
That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.
"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."
The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"
You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"
"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."
Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”
You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."
For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”
Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”
Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."
You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"
“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."
His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.
“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”
"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”
You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.
“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”
You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”
Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”
You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.
"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."
Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."
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This is a silly little thing I wrote of @clarisinne's Cringefail Farmer, my Kenny, and The Harvey Debacle™️. Seeing the fanarts inspired me but I wasn't in the mood to draw, so now this exists. It's very self-indulgent (because i am Obsessed with cringefail) but PLEASE... enjoy...
—————
‘’And then,’’ Clarice says, flinging her arms into the air dramatically, ‘’I felt his dick on my leg!’’
Kenny stops dead in his tracks and turns to look at Clarice, comically slowly. Really, he should have been expecting it. She asked him to go out for a ‘walk’, and despite how uncharacteristic it was, Kenny assumed she meant well. It’s a nice day — Maybe she just wanted to get some fresh air, or a break from her farm work. But, she hasn’t stopped talking about Harvey since the second she and Kenny locked eyes. Even when she’s not talking about Harvey directly, he still drips from her words.
‘’Okay? That’s- That’s good though, right? Or bad? Honestly, it’s hard to tell, with you.’’
‘’Uh, bad, obviously. Like - What the fuck do I do about that?’’ Clarice asks. She’s obviously flustered, but hiding it under a thick layer of feigned irritation. Usually, she’s feisty. A firework on the brink of explosion, a person born from the embers of a campfire. Her emotions don’t come out gently, and being abrasive is not something she shies away from. Kenny has seen this exact type of person a million and one times, and there is no way he’d believe that Clarice genuinely believes that she is in a bad situation. Difficult, maybe even a little embarrassing, but not bad.
‘’Was your real motivation for asking me to hang out, to ask for sex advice?’’ Kenny inquires, squinting a little. He figures it’s better to rip the band-aid off instead of dancing around the subject. With Clarice’s temperament, they’d get nowhere doing the latter.
Immediately, she goes bright red, a defensive look spreading across her face. Her instinct, Kenny assumes, is to immediately deny. They’re just friends, hanging out, and talking about friend stuff — Until they’re not. Something Kenny’s been forced to learn over the years is that sometimes, you need other people. Even if it’s embarrassing, or awkward to talk about, you need other people. He can be ‘other people’ for Clarice, if only she’d admit she actually wants help.
‘’Fuck no. Obviously not. I’m just- I’m just saying!’’ She exclaims, just as Kenny expected. So, he holds his palm up to her, preventing a continuation.
‘’No. If you want to talk about this, we can.’’ He assures. Clarice looks straight at him, frantic eyes transitioning into a softness, defensiveness turning into quiet nerves. Quickly, her intentions become clear. She did want to talk about it.
Clarice sighs, and collapses cross-legged into the grass. Kenny shuffles a little then lowers himself to sit in front of her, their knees touching.
‘’I tried to talk to Shane,’’ Clarice starts, ‘’But he was useless. He wanted nothing to do with it.’’
‘’Uh, yeah. Shane’s great at emotional support, but… Yeah. He’d never in a million years discuss sex with anyone. He caught me and Alex making out once and almost killed us and then himself.’’ Kenny reminisces, and it makes Clarice laugh.
‘’Do you fucking know what he said? He was like, ‘I wasn’t even aware Harvey had a dick before all this’, and then started yelling. And then I was yelling, and it was chaos, and I’m never fucking talking to him about anything ever again.’’ She explains, much chirpier than she was while telling the Harvey story. That’s the thing with Clarice — It’s important to match her energy. If Kenny doesn’t make it weird and awkward, she won’t either.
So, he giggles along with her, leaning back on his hands and allowing the sun to hit his face. ‘’Right, well, I’m not gonna yell at you. So, like.. Shoot. I know I seem kind of lame, but I do have experience under my belt, especially with men. Excuse the pun.’’
Clarice grins up at Kenny, before closing her eyes and taking a deep and contemplative breath. It’s a little strange, but he’s grateful that she’s willing to confide in him about something so personal. Sure, he doesn’t know Harvey very well. He can be a bit of a mess, and just as anxious as she is. If Clarice doesn’t get anything productive out of the conversation, at least she will have spoken. For Kenny, that’s good enough. He understands the importance of being able to get things off one’s chest.
‘’I just… Ugh. I don’t know how to go about this situation with him! I haven’t been in a relationship for so long, and like… I really like him. What if it gets ruined if we have sex? What if he thinks I’m a loser?’’ Clarice rambles a little, stumbling over her words, a dust of pink sprinkled over her cheeks. Kenny, however, furrows his eyebrows.
‘’Uh, dude. He got hard just from kissing you. I don’t think you need to worry about him thinking you’re a loser.’’
‘’Men are just like that, though! They’re easily entertained!’’ Clarice retaliates.
‘’Yeah, exactly. If anything, he’s the loser. Men are losers. You’re cool and pretty and literally don’t need to worry about any of that. As for the other stuff, though…’’ Kenny trails off, allowing himself a moment to really think through what he’s going to say. Sensitive subject, sensitive words.
For a moment, he thinks back to the beginning of his relationship with Alex, trying to pull inspiration and advice from that. he was cautious — Terrified of making Alex uncomfortable, terrified of something going disastrously wrong. But, neither of those things happened. They fell into each other very naturally, eventually throwing caution to the wind and exploring each other in a way that suited them both. It seems to have been the way in every relationship Kenny’s had.
‘’I think having sex with someone is something that just, kinda… Naturally happens, over time. If you feel the need to discuss it first, you will. If it just randomly ends up happening, as long as you’re both comfortable, then so be it. Just, go with each other’s flow, you know? I bet Harvey’s nervous about it too, but you guys will come around. It’ll work. And if it doesn’t, then you can just try again. God knows me and Alex had some blunders at first.’’ Kenny says, trying his best to articulate himself well. Clarice nods thoughtfully, but Kenny’s advice isn’t quite enough.
‘’But what do guys even like? I haven’t had sex in so long. What if I’ve forgotten how?’’
He tries to suppress it, but Clarice’s question makes Kenny laugh. Amusement born from love, but amusement nonetheless.
‘’Uh, you definitely haven’t forgotten how to have sex. You forget that humans have been having sex since literally the beginning of our existence. For most of us, it’s pretty hard-wired. You just need to get to know him, explore your options, even ask him straight-up. Genuinely — You’ll figure it out. I know you’re shitting yourself about it now, but, I can promise you with almost one-hundred percent certainty that it’ll be okay. Good, even.’’
Clarice unties the ribbon from her braid, then starts re-braiding it in silence, giving herself a moment to let Kenny’s words truly seep into her brain. It seems to be working — Visually, she’s less tense. Her face is softer, and her shoulders aren’t attached to her ears anymore. Kenny knows that his advice isn’t going to magically absolve her of her anxieties, but if her body language is anything to go by, it’s managed to absolve something. Something is better than nothing.
‘’So, what you’re saying, is that I need to get over myself.’’ Clarice concludes, retying the ribbon in her hair. Kenny smiles at her.
‘’Well — Maybe a little bit. It’s normal to be nervous, but like… I genuinely think you’ll be okay. And if you’re not, you know where to find me, yeah? And please. If you guys do have sex, I want to know all about it.’’
‘’Pervert.’’ Clarice remarks playfully. ‘’But, yeah. Thank you, Kenny. Seriously.’’
‘’Of course. Any time.’’ Kenny replies, soft and sincere.
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