#he's gotten better as he's grown up and can eat a meal- but he spend a lot of time on a kokiri diet
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Oh gosh. Feeding the chain modern food. I've actually thought about this a lot.
I think it's a fun idea to give them all these weird and new recipes/food items, but I also think it would probably make most of them sick
Like, (speaking as an American) so much food is processed. Even some of the stuff you think you're getting healthy has been processed or is riddled with additives/pesticides/gmo's
So just. unadulterated junk food? On boys that have never in their lives eaten anything but the cleanest, as organic as it gets, nutritional meals? McDonald's? Some sour candy? I wouldn't be surprised if they puked it up
(I can just imagine Wind or Wild wanting to try some of Reader's "weird" food so badly, and then getting immediately sick. The chain then regards them as having an iron stomach for all the weird stuff they eat without batting an eye.
...maybe not Wild though actually. He eats rocks.)
Don't even get me started on the nutritional adaptation. Like a reader that doesn't ever eat fruits/veggies/drink water?? They'd wonder how they're alive 😭😭
Hyrule and Wild are the only ones who can stomach it.
Twilight and Warrior are wiling to try even if they get stomach aches afterwards. Twilight drinks chuchu jelly. So I'm sure he'd fine in the end. And I'm willing to bet that Warrior had to et some weird things during the war when ration ran low so he can tough it out.
Legend can go one of two ways. He can either tolerate like no big deal or he's taken out of commission for the week. There's no in-between. He's traveled a lot so I'm sure he's been exposed to a lot of different things and can thus handle more- but it's a Russian Roulette of what can take and can't take.
Wind and Four don't last long. They eat bologna and are out for the rest of the day with tummy aches.
Don't even try with Time or Sky. They're the most sensitive. I'm willing to bet the smell alone can make them feel sick.
#pinky replies#human! reader#anon headcanons#Sky is the easy one because Skyloft#but I also think that Time was sheltered nutrition wise as a child#he's gotten better as he's grown up and can eat a meal- but he spend a lot of time on a kokiri diet#I'm wiling to bet he can't handle many foods even now#that includes seasonings#unfortunately
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Hello, could you do Childe, Venti, and Thoma reacting to you getting corona virus and then taking care of you? Thank you very much.
Mobile tumblr ate the beginning of my work when I tried to indent what the fuck man
His biggest concern at the moment besides taking care of you is trying to make sure he doesn’t get sick himself. If he gets sick then he won’t be able to take care of you. This leads to you being sequestered to a corner of the house and kept in your bedroom, him bringing you anything and everything you need or want.
Venti is almost clingy? He doesn’t like the fact that you’re being left alone there which might lead to him playing music for you from the end of the hall or singing for you with a mic so you can hear him trying to keep you entertained. He’s sweet about it, cracking jokes and keeping you company almost all hours of the day.
He’s not great at cooking which means that he either orders in or makes canned soups for you to eat. To him, as long as you’re able to get something down he doesn’t really care what it is.
He’s also frantically texting other people what to do to try and make you feel better. He already isn’t the greatest at taking care of himself when he’s sick (he’ll usually go about his day with the addendum taking medicine because being sick doesn’t bother him) which means he’s worried he’s not doing enough for you. You can hear him calling his friends and asking for their advice, his concern for you warming your heart and making you feel better.
Thoma is great at taking care of you. He’s already gotten used to cooking and giving meals to any of his friends whenever they’re sick, never mind being in a pandemic. He’s given so many get well soon packages that at this point it’s second nature, leaving it at the door and knocking on it for you to see him happily standing there at the end of the hall with the characteristic crinkle of his eyes when he smiles. You almost wish he didn’t have to wear the mask but you knew that you didn’t want him to get sick so you didn’t let it bother you too much.
His get well soon meals are also delicious, and you wish that you weren’t too sick to appreciate them. Thankfully you were able to keep your sense of smell, meaning you were able to enjoy them a little bit if you ignored the irritation of your throat or the pounding headache that beat insistently behind your skull.
Like Venti, he wants to spend as much time with you but he’s not able to which makes him sad. This means instead that your phone or laptop is almost constantly plugged in because he’s always on call with you. He doesn’t want you to feel isolated just because you’re quarantined off and thankfully it does help abate your loneliness.
Childe is also very good at taking care of you when you’re sick. He’s grown up helping take care of his siblings so he’s put you on a strict schedule to try and help you get better as soon as possible.
You can’t be too mad at the procedural way he’s laid out your food and medicine, knowing he’s doing it because he thinks it’s the best thing for him to do for you. He’s cooked your meals personally, thinking about the best way for you to get your nutritional values especially while sick and even if healthy food isn’t exactly delicious, you eat it anyway.
He won’t force you to eat everything but he does like to see you trying to eat at least a bit! He makes the portions a little smaller so you don’t have to worry about trying to eat all of it and if you feel up to having more he’l give you more.
Childe is insistent he’s got a very strong immune system, willing to stand right at the door as long as you both have masks on so he can see you in person because he misses you too much. You try to limit the contact as much as you can, missing him but also wanting him to stay well. Thankfully he really doesn’t end up getting sick and his strict regimen got you feeling well pretty quickly.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#childe x reader#ajax x reader#tartaglia x reader#venti x reader#thoma x reader
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I yam so lucky to have you
It’s the kind of brilliant, cloudlessly cold day in early winter that makes Jaskier want to cuddle up in a sweater with a mug of spiked cider. Sipping wine and cooking a big dinner in an oven-warmed kitchen with Geralt is even better. The scent of fresh baked bread and sweet potatoes lingers in the air of their little kitchen.
He sweeps chopped pecans into a bowl and makes a distressed little noise as he notices a scattering of tiny green threads lingering in the mix, and Geralt hums a little inquisitive sound from his spot at the sink where he’s diligently washing dishes.
Anyone who had just met the two of them might be forgiven for assuming that Geralt would be the one with a talent for cooking. The man is frighteningly competent at so many things, and it would make absolute sense for that competency to extend to the kitchen. Just like one might assume that Jaskier, flighty and forgetful with a fondness for processed cheese snacks would be totally hopeless and likely to burn a pot of boiling water.
They’d be wrong. It’s not that Geralt can’t cook. He can! And the five dishes that he rotates between are all…solidly good. Exciting? Complex? Adventurous? Flavorful? Not at all. But reliably edible, hearty, nutritious, efficient things that will feed the two of them for days. Jaskier has grown to hate them and if he ever spends a week eating Geralt’s totally okay fried rice again he might scream.
So, anyway, Jaskier is the one who cooks most of the time, while Geralt helps by cleaning as they go and fetching ingredients as his boyfriend asks for them. They love cooking together like this, though, and a big holiday meal like this is a labor of love for both of them.
Jaskier purses his lips and lets out a blustery sigh as he swipes at the sneaky little specks of green that are cling to his sliced apples.
“Well, I guess there’s just going to be a little bit of dill in everything until I stop and wash this fucking cutting board,” he mutters in exasperation. Every time he thinks he’s gotten rid of all the fluttery little bits, there’s one more. It’s fine, it’s not enough to add flavor, just enough to be obnoxious.
Geralt hums again before he speaks up, eyes on the sink and the pot that he’s diligently scrubbing. “We’ll dill with it.”
It takes a moment for the awful pun to land. When it does, Jaskier’s eyes widen in dismay at the apples under his knife, and his mouth opens wordlessly for a moment before it clicks shut again.
“After all, you didn’t do it dill-iberately,” Geralt continues after a long beat of silence.
Jaskier sucks his lips between his teeth tightly and shakes his head, refusing to look at the smirk he’s sure is on his boyfriend’s face.
“It’ll still be dill-icioous,” Geralt says, completely deadpan.
Jaskier snorts and drops the knife with a clatter before he spins on his heel to leave the kitchen laughing in delighted horror. This is the man he loves, who he has chosen to spend his life with. By the time he circles the livingroom and returns, his eyes are streaming.
Geralt is standing by the sink in his sock feet, looking sinfully gorgeous in his tight henley with a dish towel thrown over one shoulder, his hair twisted back in a messy, loose bun, and grinning with pride at his horrible puns. Jaskier loves him so much it makes him stupid. He’s still shaking his head helplessly when he steps close to loop his arms around Geralt’s waist and buries his face in the man’s ridiculous chest.
“You’re really proud of yourself, aren’t you,” he mumbles into the firm muscle under him. He even smells amazing, the bastard.
“Mmhm.” Geralt gently pats him on the back with one huge hand.
“I hate you so much.”
“No you dont. You love me,” he teases.
Jaskier sighs and steps back over to his apples. “Yeah, you’re right. I really, really do.”
He can’t imagine a better way to spend a long weekend than this.
on AO3 here
#holiday fluff#geraskier#modern au#geralt's terrible dad jokes#The witcher#my fic#they're in love your honor
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Family
I’m running sort of late in my timezone, but here is a little something for day 3 of @rfaromance‘s Holiday Event!
How do you describe the relationship that has grown between these five strangers, all initially brought together just to throw parties? From the outside, it’s easy to write off their relationships as superficial, but look a little deeper and you’ll find that the RFA has formed a family of its own in the years they’ve been together.
Over her years of working as his assistant, Jaehee has come to know Jumin very well. Yes, he is the cause of much irritation, and doesn’t seem to understand standard work hours, but she wouldn’t consider him a bad boss. She, more than anyone else, can tell when he is distracted or distressed and has learned the best workarounds.
Zen keeps an eye on Yoosung, offers an escape and his support when everything in life becomes too much. He does his best to be the brother he never had (and secretly relishes having someone to take care of). In return, Yoosung cooks them meals that are better than what Zen has eaten in a week. They keep each other balanced.
Seven goes missing for days at a time, and despite whatever they might tell him, they’re not sure how to fill the uncomfortable silence he leaves behind in the chat. They can’t do anything but hope he’ll return to them sooner rather than later. When inevitably he does, they pretend to tolerate his dramatic stories recounting his adventures (and all the while breathe a sigh of relief).
They don’t see each other often enough. Jumin organizes meetings so he can see them in person and make sure that everything is alright and that nobody has gotten lost along the way (though it’s been getting worryingly close once or twice). He isn’t sure how to reach them all and tell them how much he worries about them, so instead he tells them to make sure they sleep and eat enough.
Yoosung visits Seven’s house often. His excuse is that he wants to play games, but he really just wants to see Seven’s face. It’s easy to pretend to be energetic and happy behind a screen, but in real life, Seven has deep dark circles and smiles without much conviction. He cooks for him too, and takes note of how his fridge is almost always empty. He leaves only when he’s sure that Seven is looking somewhat better. In return, Seven helps him with difficult coursework, and always offers a place to run when his little dorm room gets too suffocating.
Jumin and Zen have a difficult time understanding each other, but don’t mistake it for hate (no matter what Zen says). They don’t see eye to eye, but they try to bridge the gap in their own ways. When Jumin isn’t offering money or opportunities to Zen, he’s asking questions about he industry and listening intently. Zen’s world is so different to his own, and it fascinates him. He admires Zen for being able to navigate a place like that. He can relate to being pursued for what he has to offer people and not for the person he is. Zen would hate to admit it, but he’s impressed by everything Jumin has on his plate. He knows that if something goes wrong, he can rely on him for support.
Zen and Jaehee compare schedules every week to try and find a slot to meet up for coffee. It doesn’t often happen, but when it does, they can easily spend a whole afternoon catching up. He encourages her to vent about working under Jumin, and she enjoys geeking out about the latest show he’s starring in. He reserves whatever merch he can for her and makes sure the family tickets he’s allowed are given to her. Seeing her face smiling up at him from the audience makes him feel proud. If he can make someone as put-together and professional as her so happy, he must be doing something right.
Sure, they all started off as strangers. Sure, they have their differences (they’d be the first ones to tell you that). But they are now so much more than that. They are a family who will always be rooting for each other.
#better late than never right?#rfaholiday2022#mystic messenger#mystic messenger RFA#mystic messenger seven#mystic messenger jumin#mystic messenger yoosung#mystic messenger Jaehee#mystic messenger Zen#mysme seven#mysme jumin#mysme zen#mysme yoosung#mysme jaehee#my writing
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3 | Ursa Major
Pairing: Kita x Fem!Reader
What's Meant to Be Masterlist
The evening of your outing with Kita, you wait at the cafe where you had previously met him. A minute later he arrives with a small smile on his face.
"I'm sorry," he says as he approaches you. "I didn't mean to be late."
"You're not," you reply as you hug him. "You're right on time."
"Shall we?"
"Lead the way," you smile, following him.
The two of you make your way down the busy street. He leads you a couple of blocks over to a beautiful restaurant with a large glass door.
As you step inside, you take a moment to look around the room. It's fairly simple but elegant. The two of you are greeted by a server and led to a table in the center of the dining area.
"Is this alright?" the server asks as she sets down the menus.
"This is perfect, thank you," Kita replies.
"Enjoy your meal," she smiles, and turns to leave.
"What a beautiful restaurant," you say, turning to Kita.
"It is," he agrees. "I thought it would be a good place for us to catch up."
"Yeah," you smile, nodding.
"So, Y/N," he begins, picking up his menu. "Tell me more about what you've been up to."
"Well," you say, picking up your own menu. "I've been spending my spare time trying to learn how to cook."
"That's nice. What have you been learning to make?"
"Anything and everything," you reply. "I've gotten pretty good at baking. But my skills are lacking when it comes to cooking food. I can barely make a decent meal."
He chuckles softly. "Well, I'd offer to help but I can't say I'm much better, honestly. Maybe the two of us can try and help each other some time."
"Sure," you smile.
"You've really grown up," he then says.
"We've been out of high school for some time," you laugh.
"Yeah, but you're different now," he shrugs. "I don't really know how to describe it. You've changed, but you're still the same."
"I guess that's a good thing," you say, a bit uncertain.
"It is," he reassures.
Just then, the server returns, and the two of you order. Kita then orders a bottle of wine for the two of you which the server quickly brings to the table.
"How has your life been?" you ask him. "I remember you said something about finance, is that correct?"
"Yes, I work for a company called Hyogo," he replies. "It's a pretty big investment firm. We handle a lot of different portfolios. It's a pretty stable job. I don't know what else I would do if I weren't doing this."
"What do you mean? You were so good at volleyball back in high school! You could've gone pro."
He shakes his head, laughing. "I don't know about that. But I do miss it sometimes."
"Same here," you say. "I'm glad we met up again."
"Me too," he smiles.
After the two of you eat, the conversation between you grows more comfortable. You've moved past the simple pleasantries and started having conversations like two friends who haven't missed a beat.
"So, you're still a dancer?" Kita then asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"Yes," you say, nodding. "It's all I've known."
"And you're happy with that?"
"As happy as I can be," you shrug.
He studies your face for a moment. "Something seems off, though," he observes.
You're surprised by his intuition. You've always loved dancing. It's probably because he saw the bruise on your face the other night.
"I'm okay, really. It's just been a long week," you lie.
"You can tell me, you know," he says, gently touching your hand.
You bite your lip and avert your gaze, trying to decide what to say. "I'm serious, Shinsuke," you tell him as you pull your hand away from his. "I'm fine."
"I'm sorry," he shakes his head. "I didn't mean to pry."
"It's alright," you assure him.
The rest of the evening goes smoothly. You two finish eating and drink a few glasses of wine. By the end of the night, the two of you have gotten pretty buzzed. It takes you a while to realize that you're going to be late to work, and drunk, no less.
"I should probably head home," you lie to him. "I have an early morning."
"Do you need a ride home?" Kita offers.
"No, no," you shake your head. "I'm okay."
"Alright," he nods. "Let me walk you out, though."
"Okay."
The two of you stand up, and make your way toward the front door.
As you step outside, the cool air hits your skin. You feel yourself sober up slightly.
"It was nice catching up, Shinsuke," you say, smiling.
"You too," he replies.
"I'm sorry to cut this night short but I've really got to get going. It's getting late."
"Don't worry about it," he says, stepping closer.
You're caught off guard as he leans forward and kisses your cheek.
"Thanks for tonight," you manage to say.
"Of course," he smiles, taking a step back.
Feeling a bit dizzy after the kiss, you turn and head towards work. As soon as you get to the club, you're pulled aside by the manager.
"What happened to you?" Takao asks.
"Nothing," you say.
"You're late. And... drunk?" he observes. "What were you doing?"
"I'm sorry," you say. "I won't let it happen again."
"You better not," he huffs. "Go get dressed."
"Yes sir, sorry."
He shakes his head and walks off.
You quickly make your way to the dressing room but before you can get there, Sayuri rushes to your side and links her arm with yours. "Hey, how was the big night?"
"I'm fine," you say.
"Really?" she asks, raising her eyebrow. "You smell like wine. Were you drinking?!"
"I was with Kita," you whisper.
"I know... Wait," she says, eyes widening. "Did something happen?"
"No, not like that," you shake your head.
"Well, what happened then?"
"We went to a nice restaurant. We talked, we drank. We didn't go further than that. And then I walked here. I'm just running a little late. I talked to Takao. It's okay," you then reassure her.
"So nothing happened between the two of you?"
"No."
"Are you disappointed about that?"
"Sayuri..."
"Sorry! I was just wondering," she shrugs. "You at least got his number, right?"
"I already have it from high school," you reply, not thinking much of it.
"Oh yeah? Even after the great contact deletion of last year?" she laughs.
"Shit, you're right," you say, shaking your head.
"How're you going to talk to him again?"
"I can just look him up on Instagram or something," you shrug. "I know where he works."
"Ooooh, stalker," she teases.
"No, it's not like that," you say, rolling your eyes.
"Uh huh," she says. "Are you gonna actually do it? DM him, I mean."
"I dunno," you shrug. "Maybe."
What's Meant to Be Masterlist
#kita x y/n#kita x reader#kita x you#kita shinsuke x you#kita shinsuke x reader#kita shinsuke x y/n#kita shinsuke#shinsuke kita x reader#shinsuke kita x you#shinsuke kita x y/n#shinsuke kita#haikyuu kita#kita smut#kita fanfic#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x fem!reader#haikyuu#x reader#x fem!reader#haikyuu series#haikyuu self insert#haikyuu x female reader#hinatastinygiant#fanfiction series#fanfiction#fanfic#what's meant to be
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I'm having a bad eating day, can you share me your thoughts about Zuko and eating? It won't be triggering for me, I promise!
well u came to the right place bc i have thought about this a lot
and even though its the middle of the night for most people i am supposed to be lesson planning right now and would love to distract myself by answering this
TW: disordered eating
He never really thought he had a problem. Sure, Zuko knew he needed Sokka to help him eat. They never talked about it, but if it wasn't for Sokka, he'd probably spend days without eating anything or even feeling hungry.
It wasn't that he didn't want to eat, he was just... busy. Doing more important things. Like running a country.
Sokka would always have breakfast waiting for him in the morning, would always silently put more food on his plate during lunch meetings, would be the one to tell Zuko when it was time for dinner. Sokka was always snacking and would try to share with Zuko.
He had no problem eating with and for Sokka. But when it came to doing it on his own, he couldn't bring himself to care.
None of this was conscious. He wasn't eating just to keep Sokka from worrying. He just... really didn't care.
Zuko liked food, he guessed. But he was never thinking about it. There were foods he didn't like, and he'd just avoid them. If he was ever really hungry and had no energy, he'd just eat fire flakes. The kitchen staff knew to always keep an endless supply of fire flakes waiting for him, and he knew to help himself.
Over time, Zuko got busier with work, and he could tell Sokka was starting to get more worried. They still didn't talk about it- Zuko didn't think it was even worth discussing- but he saw Sokka's face at meetings when advisors and dignitaries- even friends every now and then- would comment on Zuko's seemingly shrinking appetite.
The first time Sokka went on a trip alone and Zuko was left at the palace, he didn't think at all about how he was only eating fire flakes. He didn't think at all about how he was getting more and more tired every day, how his immune system was suffering, how it was getting harder to focus on daily tasks. How for the last several months he felt weak and lightheaded during training, and had been finding excuses to do it less and less. How he'd been losing his temper more and more often.
When Sokka came back a couple weeks later, he sat Zuko down to talk. Zuko could see the hurt and worry in his eyes and it killed him. But he was sure nothing was wrong. When he reassured Sokka, it just made the hurt worse. And something awoke in the back of his mind... Was there a problem here?
They talked about it. Sokka explained everything he'd been observing from Zuko and Zuko listened. Sokka asked if Zuko knew why he was doing this, and he responded that he genuinely didn't. Slowly, Zuko began to accept that he needed help...
It wasn't easy. He'd grown up hearing whispers about people with these problems, people who were so sick inside that they started to waste away on the outside. He was incredibly ashamed, incredibly embarrassed. But he owed it to Sokka and to himself to try to get better.
That wasn't easy either.
Zuko's eating had gotten so bad that when he tried to eat any food that was put in front of him, he felt nauseous. He physically couldn't put it in his mouth. But Sokka was patient.
For the first few days, they would sit together for hours until Zuko could finally take the first bite. And more often than not, when he finally did, his stomach would take over and he'd have no problem finishing the rest.
Sokka kept Zuko to a strict meal schedule, which seemed to help. It became routine. Even though Zuko didn't want to eat at those times, he knew he should.
One time he missed a meal because a meeting went too long and he had a panic attack. That was embarrassing too. From then on, he allowed himself to eat in meetings when necessary.
The next challenge he faced... was his appearance.
Zuko knew deep down that he'd been starving himself before. Sokka had explained it to him (and Katara- the only other person in the world he told about his problem) and so it would only make sense that he would be gaining weight now. But he'd gotten used to his skinny look. He felt more masculine that way.
The fight with his brain to eat was the hardest. And his brain won sometimes, especially on a day after he'd eaten three full meals and he thought he could see the weight on his hips.
But Sokka was there every step of the way, and he was the voice of reason when Zuko needed him.
Zuko was beginning to accept that he had been sick, severely malnourished, and it would take months for his body to find its new equilibrium. He knew that too from experience.
Eventually, his appetite did come back. He needed less sleep at night and was in better moods during the day. He was healthier and had more energy. He soon started snacking on his own.
It was still sometimes a struggle, a conscious effort, and Sokka still needed to help and remind Zuko sometimes, but the task of recovering seemed far less monumental than it had been at the start.
And when Sokka took his next trip and Zuko was able to feed himself and stick to his eating schedule? That was when he knew he'd be alright.
#quesTian#atla#text#it sort of turned into a drabble sorry i was trying to just do bullet points lol#drabble#zukka#im only projecting a LITTLE bit#lol but yes im having a rough day of it too question asker. solidarity!#trans zuko
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Pancakes for Breakfast (top gainer POV)
Contains: feeding, blowjob (top receives), rimming (top receives)
"You need to stay low, you're starting to block the TV." I pushed down on Benny's head to move him lower towards my shaft. "Mmm, that's better."
Once it seemed like he knew where he was supposed to be, I moved my hand back into the bowl of chips I had Benny bring me earlier. With my other hand, I directed his hand towards my belly, so he could continue to rub it while he serviced me.
This had become our nighttime ritual for the past couple of weeks. Benny prepares my favorite meal in the kitchen and brings it over to the TV where I spend most of my time now. I let him feed me my food while he rubs my belly. And once I'm full, he brings me dessert while I feed him his favorite meal.
It wasn't always like this. We moved in together a few months ago, and like any other couple, you start to learn things about each other. Like how I really can't be bothered with any of the housework, and how much Benny enjoys my growing dadbod. It actually works out great. I get to relax on the couch while he takes cares of me. Any calories I don't spend on cleaning all go towards my hairy belly, which he can't get enough of for some reason. The only thing he might love more than rubbing my stuffed belly is servicing me between my legs. One time during dinner, I took the rest of his dinner off his plate and scarfed it down in one go. I just stroked my cock through my pants and jokingly said, "Hey, if you want me bigger, all the food in the house can go to me. I'll make sure you get your nutrients another way." Of course I was kidding and I still let the kid eat, but ever since then, he'd happily let me take half his dinner plate. And I did good on my promise to feed him too.
On that note, I take my eyes off the TV for a brief moment to look down on my devoted boyfriend sucking on my cock like his life depends on it. He's so adorable. "Here it comes," I brush my hand past his cheek, and move to the back of his head, pushing his head in while I start cumming down his throat. Benny starts moaning and sucking it all down before stumbling backwards and gasping for air. "Thank you," he mumbles sheepishly and he gets back on his knees to clean me up, he knows I don't like staying sticky for long. "Mhm," my eyes are back on the TV, "once you're done there, I could use another beer before you help me to bed."
---
I stumbled into the bedroom, with Benny under my arm, his skinny frame trying its best to help me to the mattress. "Oof," the mattress creaks under my weight, "urrrp, 'scuse me." I may have a big appetite, but I still have my manners. The room is dimly lit with one lamp in the corner, I look down and find Benny kneeling between my legs, completely smitten by the furry sphere between my legs. It's nice to see him enjoying himself. My belly growls and I'm reminded I have some needs that Benny has to attend to. "Hey, come on," I chuckle and motion for him to join me in bed, "you'll have plenty of time to rub my belly once I'm asleep."
With my legs still facing the foot of the bed, Benny gets behind me and starts working on my shoulders. Sitting on the couch all day tends to make me a bit stiff. I lean over to the bedside table and grab the fruit that's been laid out. I've been having Benny prepare snacks to keep next to the bed. Ever since my appetite has grown, I realized I've gotten cranky more easily when my belly isn't immediately filled. It's just better for everyone if there's food prepared around the house. I ask Benny about his day between bites, he tells me about his day at work while I finish off the rest of my fruit bowl. Halfway through one of his stories, I start zoning out and start planning how the rest of the night will go, "Urrrp, help me get on my stomach, gently, I'm still full from dinner." Benny stops his story immediately and moves by my side, helping me get into a comfortable position, and stuffing a pillow under my chin. Ah, nice and cool, just how I like it. Once I'm well situated, he gets behind me to continue the massage. There's a long pause that makes me smirk. He's so predictable. "Hmm? What's the matter?" I tauntingly wiggle my ass at him, and hear him breath in deeply, right on cue. I lean my head down into the pillow, "you can rub it if you want to." Right away, I feel my boyfriend's soft, warm hands caressing my cheeks. That was a new discovery for the both of us. I guess all that sitting on the couch has helped my backside expand a bit too. I started noticing more and more how much Benny loved it, and it was always fun to tease him. I didn't let him know, but secretly, this was one of my favorite parts of the night too - well, leading up to my favorite part.
Feeling a bit impatient, I decided to help Benny out, and slid off my tight underwear, revealing my hairy cheeks. Benny eagerly pulled off my underwear and spread my legs a little wider. I felt him pause again. God, this boy needs so much encouragement. "It’s okay, you can lick it if you want to." I reach my hand back and pull one cheek a bit to the side. Thankfully, Benny does the rest of the work, so my hand can go back to resting. I feel his soft tongue get to work, making me moan a bit. My cheeks have grown a bit too much, and I have to take extra effort to make sure I can feel Benny in there. "Deeper Benny," I mutter between moans. I feel him pull back to hear me better, "Hmm?" I roll my eyes and reach my hand to the back of his head, shoving his face in. "I said, I need you deeper." I enunciate clearly this time, pushing myself up on my knees so that he has a better position to please me. I feel Benny struggle a bit from the suddenness, but he quickly adapts. "Yeah, you're fine, keep going." With Benny firmly in place, I reach my hand back under my belly to begin stroking my growing cock. It must be hard to breath back there, but I'm getting closer, and to be honest, I don't really care. Maybe that makes me a bad boyfriend, but I think Benny likes it when I treat him like an object sometimes, and I definitely enjoy these moments. I push Benny out, and turn to my side while I stroke faster and faster. By this point, Benny knows what to do, and gets back between my legs. I wrap his head between my thighs and start pumping, his face between my crotch and the mattress. With the little energy he has left, he grabs onto my cheeks from behind and continues to massage my ass. That does it. I release my load deep down his throat, pumping my hips over and over again until there's none left for him to swallow.
I'm exhausted. Holding that position even briefly for Benny to get back under my crotch is getting more and more tiring. I'll have to think of something different so it’s more comfortable for me. I feel Benny trying to shift underneath me, but I always get so sleepy after cumming. "Hmm?" I hear him begin to speak, but with my legs still over him and my cock in his mouth, I can barely make it out. "Sorry babe, just...tell me in the morning..." I shift my pillow a bit and begin drifting off to sleep. I wonder what I'll have Benny make tomorrow, maybe some pancakes for breakfast...
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mc’s departure | obey me
summary: how the brothers would react to MC returning to the human world after a year in the devildom
contains: fluff , angst , ?!!!!&;@;&:idk
♯ LUCIFER
he’s the one to see you off, reminding you of the many things he had taught you so that you’d never forget.
his pride is much too large to admit that he will miss you to death and that he loves you dearly.
after you’re gone, he’s gone for hours at a time, holed up in his room with as much as work as he can take on.
he overworks himself with the intention of getting rid of the heavy emotion on his heart.
everything reminds you of him, even the paper clip on his desk that you had once found under his bed.
he gets easily irritable, feeling rather empty now that you’ve gone and left him alone in this now quiet house.
barely leaves his room, only works.
never cries but gets quite emotional when he finds a belonging you left behind.
♯ MAMMON
he cried every single night up until your departure but never showed you that side of him once
after you left, he cried non-stop, not caring if he looked like a cry baby in front of his brother’s who watched him with pitiful eyes.
once his eyes dried up, he soon never returned home as he partied all day and night.
he forced himself to attend parties after parties in order to forget about you.
it never works because everything reminds him of you.
sometimes he sits in his car and just stares into space, wondering what you’re doing now that you’re back on earth.
literally cannot stand the mention of you or your name or he may break down.
pretends to be okay but can’t go a day without getting upset about your absence.
money soon becomes pointless when he realizes no amount of cash will bring you back to the house of lamentation.
♯ LEVIATHAN
curled up in his bath tub and cried himself to sleep.
stopped leaving his room in general, continuously playing games all day and night.
couldn’t look at his ruri-chan figures because they somehow reminded him of you and how much you used to admire them with him.
every inch of his room has your touch on it and it makes his heart ache painfully.
struggles to attend online school but manages to make it through the day by zoning out in class.
claims he doesn’t care about a normie like you but genuinely misses you
sends you messages, forgetting you can no longer contact him without your D.D.D
writes about how much he misses you on his blog fully aware you’ll never see it.
♯ SATAN
reading. that’s all he does.
he hides in his room and reads every single book he has stacked up along his room, even rereading them if he finished everything.
uses books to get his mind off of you—or more so the lack of you.
will sometimes get excited about a stray cat he sees but stops himself when he realizes he can’t tell you because you aren’t here.
gets angry. a lot.
the smallest things set him off and he can longer feign a smile when he hears your name or anything related to you.
he misses you so much that he wants to tear out his hair and rip apart all these book page by page.
his room is in shambles and he can’t seem to think straight anymore.
♯ ASMODEUS
loses his interest in everything.
forgets his skin care routine and lets himself go without caring about it.
forces himself to go to parties and tries to sleep with someone to feel better but when it fails, he stops sleeping around in general.
like mammon, he doesn’t come home often to avoid seeing the house he had lived in with you happily.
cannot forget about you no matter what he does, and that frustrates him the most.
wishes he had done something to stop you or at least slept beside you one last time.
neglects himself for a while.
♯ BEELZEBUB
poor bby isn’t hungry for once.
can’t seem to eat now that you’re not sitting beside him, giggling about something he had said.
spends a lot of his time doing weight training and exercising to get his mind off of you.
misses all the meals you used to make on the nights you were in charge of cooking.
sometimes forgets you’re not around whenever he’s about to go downstairs to eat dinner.
clings to belphie in hopes to fill the gap in his heart.
accidentally broke down your room door in an angry fit when your absence finally set in.
♯ BELPHEGOR
either he sleeps even more or somehow gets less sleep.
no matter what, he feels sluggish and blank.
locks himself in the attic, almost as if he was never released in the first place.
even though he hated humans, your absence affected him the most after he had grown to love you as a human.
nearly went demon mode on diavolo when he found out that you were being sent back to the human world.
partially wishes he never met you but cherishes his memories with you too much to ever wish for that wholeheartedly.
sleeps in your bed often to hold onto your lingering scent that was fading quickly.
complains to beel that you were nothing but a stupid human who turns their backs on demons like them, but he never means anything he says.
“Why is it so quiet in here?” Diavolo asks as he opens the front door of the House of Lamentation with Barbatos at his side. The man’s golden eyes scanned the entry hall, noticing how it was so eerily dark and quiet that it almost felt like something out of a horror movie. It felt like no one had lived here in over two thousand years. “Hello?”
Upon receiving message from Diavolo, everyone had exited their rooms for the first time in a while, looking like they were dragged through the mud. The state they were in made Diavolo jump with surprise, shocked to find that even Lucifer looked like he was ill. “What happened to you guys?!”
“What is it that you need, Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked as he ran a hand through his hair to compose himself a bit in front of the red haired man. “If is nothing important, may I kindly ask you to leave and return another time?”
Diavolo sighed, shaking his head lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what’s up with you guys, but I brought everyone’s favorite person along with me so sing your praises now!”
Mammon huffed, “If ya’ talking about that butler of yours, ain’t nobody care right now! We got bigger things to worry about!”
Barbatos simply smiled, taking no offense to the sly insult thrown his way.
Diavolo cocked a brow in confusion. “What? Of course not! It’s-“
The person stepped out from behind Diavolo, catching the attention of every single male in the room. The seven brother’s choked, staring at the one person they had longed for these past few days.
“[y/n]!” They shouted in unison, practically flying down the stairs to get to you. Mammon was the first to reach you, wrapping his arms around your entire body as he tackled you to the floor. The other brother’s climbed on top of you two, hugging you so tightly that you feared this would be where you’d die. “You’re back!”
Diavolo chuckled boisterously. “This is amusing! You lot are acting like you didn’t know they’d return today!” His laugh came to an abrupt stop when he saw the flat expressions coming from each and every brother. “Oh- Did I not inform you?”
“Obviously you didn’t.” Belphegor scoffed with a roll of the eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. “[y/n]...”
“Ya can’t ever leave again! I’ll seriously get angry at ya if this happens again! Ya either go to the human world with me or ya don’t go at all!” Mammon snapped, cupping your cheeks while getting dangerously close to your face to yell at you.
“I’ll severely punish you if you ever leave this manor without giving me a heads up as to where you’re off to. You’re not just an exchange student anymore. You’re special.” Lucifer explained, a panicked glint in his tired eyes as he reached out to pat your head gently with his gloved hand.
Satan sighed, pressing his forehead against your back. “If you leave again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control my emotions, so don’t leave.”
The avatar of lust whined loudly, “my beautiful self can’t handle a life without you! Don’t ever go anywhere without me again!” He clutched onto her waist tightly.
“Don’t... Don’t go anywhere.” Leviathan said with a sad frown on his lips as he held your hand, bringing it up to rest against his cheek. “It’s so empty without you.”
“Let’s eat dinner together, [y/n].” Beel suggested, his voice full of emotions as he drooled at the thought of dinner with you.
A million emotions ran through your veins as you sat there, basking in the warmth of their touch. It was overwhelming to receive so much love all at once but it was amazing.
A smile slowly crept onto your lips as you leaned into their touch, enjoying the way they clung to you as if you’d disappear any moment now. “I missed you guys, too.”
“What a lovely reunion!” Diavolo exclaimed happily, snapping a view blurry photos on his D.D.D to send to the group chat later.
After the heartfelt moment, they quickly disappeared upstairs to fix up their appearance before rushing downstairs to the kitchen where you stood. They clung to you like bugs to a light, hounding you about your sudden departure, only to find out that you had gone up there with Diavolo and Barbatos to help the man experience human world activities he had never gotten to try before. Diavolo was sure he had told them that but seeing as they were genuinely distressed, he assumed the message never reached.
Even though they were beyond pissed with Diavolo and his carelessness, they were just glad you were back. Them being here with you really was their idea of a perfect life.
a/n: UH YEA K GOODNIGHT
#beel x reader#Lucifer x reader#leviathan x reader#leviathan#Lucifer#beelzebub#belphegor#asmodeus#satan#mammon#obey me#mammon x reader#asmo x reader#belphie x reader#satan x reader#obey me fluff#obey me shall we date#HEADCANONS#obeyme HEADCANONS#obey me x reader
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Batboy Headcanons because I made this for me but you all can enjoy this too if want. (May contain mild NSFW)
Dick:
Has a weird relationship with unwanted gaze and the attention he receives because of his physique. He genuinely likes the attention but he draws the line when people start getting touchy. Just because he's shirtless working out doesn't mean he gave you consent to touch him.
Has good dieting skills but he's in his mid-late 20's and his metabolism has 0 signs of slowing down. He once ate a whole xl bag of M&M's in front of Steph and Babs and both said they wanted to murder him because he won't gain a pound.
Dick has ADHD and I'm sorry if you don't think otherwise. He has hyperactive type ADHD and while he's gotten better at controlling his symptoms he still stims stretching and flexing his arms and shaking his arms.
While not so much in Gotham, Dick is very politically active and volunteers at voter registration and working with organizations with the mission of police demilitarization in Blüdhaven.
Dick is a very sexually driven individual. However, I don't think it's entirely healthy. His ADHD also comes into play with this but Dick just needs to have a release at least twice a day or he'll feel physically sick.
I don't know if you all have seen male gymnasts. But Dick, like the rest of them, has FREAKSISHLY large biceps. Everyone talks about Dick has the best ass in the bat family and while Jason may be larger and stronger, Dick has the best physique.
Dick's apartment is littered with sticky notes in places such as the fridge/in front of his computer. If it's not written down and in a place where he can't ignore it, it's not going to get done.
I'm sorry I know everyone says his birthday is in March but I have to go to the older Nightwing comics and say his Birthday is December 1st. I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me this man doesn't give off Sagittarius energy. You can't. I respect you but you can't look at that and tell me that man isn't a Sagittarius or has super heavy Sag in his birth chart.
Dick's at home doing nothing but chilling? You best believe he's gonna be shirts off, tits out, and rocking some blue flannel PJ's.
Dick is currently the only member of the family asides from Barbara who is regularly attending therapy. And he actively encourages each of his brothers and sisters to go every time.
After his Agent 37 days. He sits down with Jason and talks about having to use a gun and how hard it was. And how having to kill people has affected him. When he had to kill the KGBeast (Agent 37 days he snapped his neck) I headcanon Dick just trauma v*mit*d. Jason hugged him and just consoled him.
It's canon that Dick has anger issues but to me, it's not explored or talked about enough and not a lot of people like to talk about it. Dick is very much the 'if I ignore it it'll go away' type when it comes to his anger and he can brush most insults or harassment off fine enough. But when he breaks, he makes Jason look like a saint. I'm talking slamming you into a wall and screaming in your face angry. He'll be profusely apologetic afterward but still.
Despite popular belief, I don't think he's that bad of a cook. He's just not very experimentative. He can follow a recipe and does look at some guides. But to me, Dick Grayson just is that guy who is like Chicken veggies and rice are a meal that I can cook 4-6 times a week.
Dick has a slight fear of dentists. He doesn't have bad teeth and has good dental health. He just doesn't like the idea of a drill going in his mouth and the few times Bruce has to take him to a dentist he had a panic attack every time.
Everyone lives for the fics where Jason beats the shit out of Tim and everyone is just like lol well Bruce and Dick just forgives him. No. When Dick found out it was Jason who beat Tim to the ground, Dick was literally seething and told Jason "Pick on someone your own size or else I'll make you wish you back in that f'ing coffin."
Dick's favorite foods (some based in Canon*): Milk Chocolate*, Cereal*, Asparagus, Bananas, Banana flavored candy, Hawaiian Pizza* (suffer its canon) Rum, thanksgiving Turkey.
Jason:
He may be the self-diagnosed black sheep (rightfully so) of the family, but Jason does genuinely love spending time with his siblings. Whether it be sharing memes with them on social media or just randomly showing up where they are and abducting them to go get ice cream/coffee/snacks.
He'd probably attempt to harm you if you told him this to his face. But he is the closest acting to Bruce out of all of the family. In terms of mannerisms and inherent warmth and kindness behind a dark façade.
Has two moods: either exceptionally, almost neat-freak levels of clean, or his life is completely falling apart and Jason can't tell you for sure what color his floors are because there's so much stuff scattered about.
Despite their initial hatred of each other, Jason truly feels closest to Tim and Tim is the only person asides from maybe Barbra who he can just talk to without feeling any judgment.
Jason only smokes when he's extremely nervous about an operation or a hit. For those who don't know criminal justice cigarettes are the fastest way to get genetic material on someone. That being said he does still like to smoke occasionally.
Me, plus a lot of people give him this sort of 'Lazarus Rage' as I like to call it. When he's in the heat of a mission or if he's getting upset/angry his vision will get blurred with green, and it feeds on his anger and just gets perpetually harder to contain until he releases it. Jason has gotten much better at controlling it. But as he will tell Tim or Babs, he's "seeing green" which means they need to be careful because Jason could kill.
Everyone says Dick is the mother hen. I see you, I accept you, but let me raise you. Jason came to realize that he died because of his rash decision to go after The Joker alone. If Jason finds any of his siblings out acting alone, or even at the very least without Oracle. Jason WILL forcefully interject himself and ask them what the fuck they think their doing.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. Trying to get close to Jason is hard. He will degrade you can attempt to try to get you to hate him before he lets you in (that cheeky Tsun of him)
He genuinely cares for and supports all of his siblings but has been rough on them needlessly. But if Bruce is being the distant or absent parent he is, you better believe if any of the siblings drops him a text or a call, Jason will be there in a heartbeat.
He's the most physically powerful of the whole Bat Family. You don't understand because of his time in the League, his time with the All-Caste, and having abused Venom for a time, he can snap an arm bone like it's a carrot with little effort.
Everyone in the family likes dogs and goes out of their way to gush over a dog, but Jason takes it to a whole new level. And even when he's masked up dogs just gravitate to Jason.
Can and has grown a beard in a matter of a few days. He usually likes to be clean shaven but some days he likes to wear a beard just to throw everyone off.
One time him, Steph, Tim, and Duke all went to a restaurant (Red Robin lol) and the waitress got his order wrong and his burger had raw tomatoes on it, Jason took the tomatoes off and ate it while looking absolutely miserable. Tim: Jay why did you eat that you didn't have to you know you could have asked the server to fix your burger. Jason, almost in tears: "She works really hard and she tried and I'm a scary dude I don't want to make her upset.." Duke: "... Jason you literally shot at a cop for looking at you funny the other day. But you're afraid of upsetting a waitress?!? I mean ACAB but dude.. "
Jason's happiest big brother moment™ was taking Tim and Damian to the shooting range and watching them both get their first bullseye.
You can't tell me Jason Todd was into the Emo/Screamo/Warped-Tour Scene. His favorite bands/Albums in no particular order, That's the Spirit (Literally the whole album is Jason Themed and I'm gonna die on this hill) & Sempiternal by Bring me the Horizon, Digital Renegade & Everyone's Safe in the Treehouse by I See Stars, The Resistance: Rise of the Runaways by Crown the Empire,
Jason Todd's favorite foods: (Also some based in Canon*) Burgers, Chili Dogs*, Lager-style beers, Freshly baked bread*, Neopolitan ice cream, grilled corn, and Chinese Chicken noodle soup with Duck.
Tim:
This boy *slaps car roof* gives off so much asexual energy. I know New 52 exists but I just feel like Tim is the person who really, REALLY has to trust you and like you before he's sexually active with you.
HYPERFIXATES. You also can't tell me Tim isn't on the spectrum/or has ADHD.
Is the only member of the family who regularly checks up on Jason and talks to him every day via text message. The two are memelords together and love to play pranks on the other members.
While Dick may give the most frequent hugs and Jason gives the tightest, most secure hugs, Tim's hugs are always the warmest and make you just feel good.
Tim's birthday is July 19th. Meaning he's a Cancer. Let that sink in.. no, really let that information just soak. (Note I have nothing against Cancer women, cancer men however....)
All of the bat boys really struggle with talking about their feelings. Dick will manipulate you into changing the subject via twisting it to be about you, Jason will just cut you off or will ignore you, Damian will deflect everything and harass you until you stop, Tim however, Tim is very emotional and while he's very calculated about who he's emotional with, he's not afraid to break down and cry if he trusts you.
Everyone who says he's the level headed Robin haha how's it feel to be WRONG. Tim is at best the least functional college student and at worst a lemming. 'No Tim, coffee isn't a meal I'm going to make you some food or I'm going to stick you in a room with Damian for an hour.' Richard (Dick) John Grayson.
People overblow how addicted to caffeine Tim is. But it's true. Just overblown. You can talk to him before he's had his caffeine just don't expect him to be anything but curt and blunt.
Everyone says Jason would be the worst at texting but it's Tim. He's the master of leaving you on read. While Jason may do it on purpose, Tim is just really bad at texting people and while he always will read your messages he forgets to respond unless it's really funny or really pressing.
Everyone sees Tim as this bean pole super skinny boy Robin. Tim may not be stacked like Dick or a freaking tank like Jason, but Tim is NOT super skinny. He's just as muscular and likes to work out as anyone, but he just is super lean, so he looks a lot bigger and his muscles are more defined because of how thin his skin is. He has those almost disgusting spider veins on his arm. Kind of gross to look at, but he's the dream of any nurse. This means Tim is also the king of accidentally sending/posting thirst traps.
He really is the glue of the Bat Family. Everyone kidnaps Tim for 'Tim Time'.
Dick likes to spar with and in general just hang out with Tim. Tim tried to teach Dick how to skateboard and you'd think the boy who mastered the trapeze would know how to skateboard but you'd be wrong.
Babs and Tim always hang out and talk about computer stuff and Babs knows she can vent to Tim about anything and he won't say a word.
Tim and Steph were a thing for a while and even though they're just friends now, they still are very close and the two have a very deep bond, liking to shop with each other and watch movies,
Cass just loves to be around Tim because of how calming he is but also she knows she can spar with him AND Cass can also skateboard with Tim too.
Even though him and Damian are always fighting, the two still end up being together and have this unspoken bond. They work great together on a team but other than that they still hate each other.
And while everyone still is hesitant around Jason, and despite the fact that Jason literally beat Tim to within an inch of his life, AND would still trigger Tim and taunt him about it. The two have this odd closeness that rivals even him and Steph. Tim will always be the first to bat for Jason. Jason was Tim's Robin. And despite the fact Jason literally beat it into Tim's head to "never meet your heroes." Tim will always be there for Jason should he ask. The two are just close. And it's hard to describe. Bruce has caught Tim and Jason just platonically sleeping next to each other or just doing their own things shoulder to shoulder silently, just enjoying each other's company.
Tim and Duke also have a really positive relationship with one another and the two can stay up all night just talking about anything. Their minds just mesh well together. The two also love to team up and prank the other members of the Batman Family.
Tim's favorite ASMR/Stim? Watching those Tik Toks of people cleaning computers or cleaning phones. The sound of an air duster is like music to his ears and if any of the Bats need their technology cleaned it secretly makes Tim so happy to help them.
Wear his hair up or wear his hair down? It depends! While Tim likes his long hair he also has gotten plenty of compliments for his short hair and likes to style it to suit any occasion.
My one pet-peeve with Tim is that he probably is that person who lets his privilege show from time to time. While he was essentially raised to just sit down, shut up, and be a perfect trophy son to the Drake's. The Drake's were in the same tax bracket as Bruce and Tim definitely was a rich kid. He never means to come across as spoiled, but sometimes Jason will give him harsh looks if Tim just throws away food he doesn't like or says things like Chipotle is 'poor people food'
Tim Drake's favorite foods (you know by now*) Donuts*, Shallot and Artichoke Pizza with Canadian Bacon* (odd choice but it could work) Artichokes in general are his favorite vegetable, Strawberries, and Beef Pho.
Damian:
I headcanon that he has the worst teeth of all of the Bat Boys and he actually has to use lingual braces. (Hence why you can't see his braces)
Canonically is a very good artist and while him and Tim don't get along, Tim introduced Damian to digital art and gave him a photoshop pack and a nice tablet for his birthday one year and Damian loved it so much.
Damian is a capricorn and I will die on this hill. A January capricorn too.
Now you want a good chef? You've got Damian. Having converted to veganism Damian has had to get creative whenever he goes out to eat so he tends to like to eat more home cooked foods. Damian loves all matters of mushrooms, eggplant, and bell peppers.
Damian really struggles the most with his wanting to just be a normal kid. Despite the fact he will dismiss you for it, anytime he gets to spend at Gotham Academy with Jon and the rest of the kids he's naturally the happiest.
Damian LOVES to give gifts. He loves the look on people's faces when they are shocked when they actually get something from Damian.
Despite the fact that he's been traumatized from both his times with Ra's and Talia as well as with Bruce. He just wants Bruce and Talia to be together because he loves them both equally.
While he's the least flexible and least gymnastic of the Robins do let your guard down around him. He is the fastest runner and the guy is rivaled only by Jason in terms of lethality.
So someone (Jason Todd & Duke Thomas) introduced Damian to trap music and ever since anytime his phone gets stolen people will be shocked to find he's listening to some combination of Lil' Yachty, X, Kendrick Lamar, Wiz, and Kodak.
If any random person tries to hug Damian he'll immediately push them away, he'll bitch and moan about just about anyone hugging him other than Bruce & Dick.
Damian loves to go to the beach/the ocean. He just thinks it's so vast and he loves the brineness of the air. Also being half white, quarter middle-eastern and quarter Chinese (Yes everyone forgets Talia is half Chinese) Damian gets DARK. And although he's just okay as a swimmer he still likes bogeyboarding and eventually wants to learn how to surf.
I'm genuinely afraid once Puberty is done with this kid and everyone in the family is. He has Bruce Wayne AND Talia Al-Ghouls genes and those are two SEXY human beings. Damian's gonna grow a beard one day and people aren't going to know how to act.
Damian secretly plays Fortnight and not even Jon knows. He doesn't want to get shamed. He'd rather lose a match and ruin his streaks than deal with the shame of anyone in that family finding out he plays Fortnight.
Damian Wayne's favorite foods (canon*) Cereal*, Avocados, Grilled Tempeh, his mom's Tabbouleh, Mushroom Tacos, and Vegan Sushi rolls, and grape juice.
Duke Thomas
Duke is like, freakishly good with a piano, and he picked it up naturally!
Also everyone says Tim brews the best pot of coffee in the Bat Family, cue to everyone's surprise when Tim was sick one day and couldn't make a pot. Only to find the coffee was freaking amazing. Duke didn't take any credit at first until Alfred let it slip that Duke was the one who brewed the pot.
Duke being the only Meta of the family originally thought he was the double-token because he was a Meta and a black boy. Needless to say his fears were seriously unfounded the moment he got to know everyone.
Although he somewhat fears Jason and his temper initially, he and Jason have one of the closest relationships in the family. If Tim isn't around to bat for Jason, Duke will happily take his spot. The two work on each other's bikes and grew to share the same taste in music.
Duke uses his Photokenetic powers as a force for good and for shenanigans. Jason wants to play a prank on Dick and Damian while Dick is reading Damian a story? Duke will hide Jason in the shadows and will cover up his shadow. Alfred dropped something in the dark? You better believe Duke will find it in 3 seconds or less.
Duke makes it a point to visit his parents every weekend to talk to them. Although they are making some progress in their recoveries, it's still slow going. Eventually, he starts bringing members of the family to see his parents. It started with Cass, then Jason, and the rest followed suit.
Duke loves playing video games with Damian and even helps Damian beat some tougher levels when Damian is about to rage and destroy the console.
Duke is into Magic the Gathering and you cannot tell me otherwise. Duke also is the DM for the Bat Kids annual D&D games. I can and will make a D&D Batfam Headcanons if asked.
Loves Pho just as much as Cass and Tim and they all call it a date night every now and then where they can go to a hole in the wall pho place. It's really a secret between the three of them.
DUKE THOMAS IS THE BEST SWIMMER OF THE BAT BOYS AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. HE JUST THRIVES IN THE WATER.
Finding out his birth father is a supervillain was really tough for him. He went into a shell for a little bit afterwards. Cass and Steph were there to help talk him out of his funk.
Duke Thomas's favorite foods (lol what canon DC hasn't acknowleged our boy in a while..) Chicken Pho, Thai Iced Tea, Papaya, Crab Cakes, Italian Hoagies, his mom's Lemon Poundcake, mint chocolate chip ice cream.
I hope y'all enjoyed! Up next (eventually) will be the Bat Girls!
#Dick Grayson#Batfam#Batboys#Jason Todd#Tim Drake#Damian Wayne#Duke Thomas#Bruce Wayne#Barbara Gordon#Cassandra Cain#Stephanie Brown#Headcanons#Slight OOC but hey If DC can't stay in character neither should I
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simple prompt 4 u ! yoonjin, mutual gain, gas [if ur comfortable!]
Thank you for requesting 🥺 I almost forgot to put gas in so there‘s not a huge focus on it but I am comfortable with it 😅
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Seokjin had always been the heavier one in Yoongi and his relationship. He wasn't sensitive about it, in fact he was quite confident about it. It's something that drew Yoongi to him, something that Yoongi admired about him.
Yoongi had always been on the skinnier side. It's not that he necessarily wanted to...he's just such a busy person that isn't food motivated so he forgets to eat.
Well, isn't food motivated for himself, that is.
But he'll spend hours cooking for Seokjin, ask to make sure he's eaten, bring home special treats....
Seokjin has put on quite a bit of weight since they started dating. He spills out of his old clothing and frankly, it's the hottest thing Yoongi has ever seen. It encourages him even more to keep his boyfriend fed.
It's one day, though, that Yoongi gets home from work and walks into the most delicious smelling apartment. It smells sweet, like strawberries and vanilla. Instantly, his mouth is watering.
He walks into the kitchen to find his boyfriend shirtless aside from an apron on, frosting a cake. The apron fits him quite hilariously, barely tying in the back when Yoongi could wrap it around himself two or three times. He doesn't have time to pay attention to that, though, because he's too focused on the cake that Seokjin's chubby fingers had just finished decorating.
His boyfriend grins at him, "Hello to you too, Yoongi," he says teasingly.
Yoongi blushes, "sorry, I was distracted..."
"I could tell," Seokjin seems way too excited as he picks up the cake and carries it to the dining table, "I found this recipe online that I thought you'd like."
"O—oh," Yoongi stutters.
"I'm stuffed though, I don't know if I'll be able to have a slice," Seokjin pouts.
"That's okay," Yoongi says, eyes glazed over as he stares at the cake in front of him, "we can have leftovers."
Seokjin snorts, not saying anything as if he knows something. He gets a plate and a knife and fork, cutting a piece and setting it in front of Yoongi. Seokjin unties his apron and sets it up. His belly is hanging way over his waist band these days, in fact the pants he's wearing are looking a bit too small, but Yoongi doesn't have time to focus on that as he digs into the cake.
It's delicious.
Yoongi moans after his first bite, eyes rolling back and Seokjin grins at him.
"Good?" He asks.
Yoongi nods enthusiastically, stuffing his mouth with another bite, "delicious," he says through a mouthful.
Seokjin giggles, blushing, "good, there's plenty if you want more."
Of course Yoongi wants more. He gobbles up the piece as fast as he can, immediately putting his plate out for another slice and Seokjin eagerly gives him one. The cycle repeats until...
"Yoongi, there isn't anymore," Seokjin says.
Yoongi thinks he must be joking but when he looks at the tray, there's barely even any crumbs. His stomach hurts. A lot.
Yoongi groans, laying back as he unbuttons his pants.
His stomach is so hard and he tries to stifle a burp but he can't. His face goes red, this is so embarrassing. But one comes and he can't stop another. It does make him feel better, but he can't even look his boyfriend in the eyes now.
"Someone ate too much," Seokjin giggles, leaning forward and patting his shoulder.
Yoongi nods, this definitely won't happen again.
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Except it does happen again.
Very often.
It seems that Seokjin really takes a liking to baking, he also happens to be extremely good at it. Every day Yoongi comes home to the most amazing smells, mouth watering the second he walks in the door.
Sometimes Seokjin will eat the treats with him, but more often than not Yoongi is finishing the whole batch by himself.
It doesn't take long for it to catch up to him, pants getting tighter, button up shirts starting to strain, chest, thighs, arms, getting softer. Yoongi doesn't necessarily mind it, he can tell Seokjin likes how soft he's getting. The only downside is having to find new clothes, but even then he can usually fit into the clothes that Seokjin's outgrown.
His appetite starts growing as well, his once small appetite has grown into that of three people. Their grocery bill skyrockets as does the amount of takeout they start getting. Seokjin doesn't slow down at all either, in fact sometimes Yoongi feels like Seokjin is trying to compete with him. Seokjin has always been somewhat of a competitive person, Yoongi not so much, but when Seokjin takes another serving of pasta with a glint in his eye, Yoongi can't help but reach for one too.
He loves finishing a big meal and then downing a whole 2 liter of soda. He loves when burps and farts come out of him as if he's lost control of his body. He sees the way Seokjin blushes every time it happens, loves the way it encourages Seokjin to push on his plush belly to try and get out even more.
The weight keeps piling on for both of them. Yoongi gets worried looks, worried questions, but he can't understand why. This is the most fun he's had in years.
So what if his belly hangs now?
So what if his thighs have ripped the seams of his pants?
So what if his neck has completely disappeared under all the fat?
So what if his gas is uncontrollable?
Seokjin still loves him, he still loves Seokjin, they're doing something they enjoy together.
They start encouraging each other. Start getting turned on by each other's fat, their new developing rolls, the way they get out of breath. It's all so hot, Yoongi never knew he could feel so good.
Yoongi still feels skinny next to Seokjin, the elder has gotten so huge, he sits while he bakes now, sits while he does most things, and it has Yoongi craving that too.
Whenever Yoongi thinks about his once small frame, when he sees pictures of them at the beginning of their relationship, he can't help but laugh.
They need to take a new picture together so they can look at the comparison...maybe after 100 more pounds or so.
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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 24.0k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : in all honesty, i can’t believe that this day has come. the last part of checkmate. i would just like to thank everyone who has given this fic all of the love over the past three months and supported me through the trials and tribulations of writing it. i hope that you have all loved this fic and chessrry as much as i have, words really can’t explain it. please let me know if you’ve enjoyed reading!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sexual content, explicit language and sadness because it’s the end of the chessrry universe.
𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐕𝐈 here
The light slipped through the gap in the curtains, the early morning light dancing over the naked skin of the two bodies that laid in the bed. It wasn’t the first time the morning light had seen the two of them this way, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. YN’s head rest on the naked skin of Harry’s chest, her leg slipped between the two of his as his fingertips softly run over the skin of her bare arm. The duvet that should be there to preserve the heat between the two of them rested just to the small of her back, covering up the majority of their modesty whilst they laid there, without a care in the world other than each other. The room was theirs, and this time together was there and nothing else mattered apart from each other and the feelings they had for each other.
YN lifted her head up so that she was looking directly at him, tilting her head to the side. She couldn’t help but lean forward and place her lips on his, a small grin on each of their lips.
“Have you had many girlfriends?” It probably wasn’t the best question to ask, but she was curious — and curiosity sometimes got the better of her, “You don’t have to tell me, but if you want to, you can.”
Harry studied her intently for a while, looking at her as if she’s got three heads for a second before seemingly snapping out of it, “Why do you want to know that?”
She shrugs, “I don’t know. I guess I’m just curious.”
“Uh.” He lifts one of his hands over his face, rubbing it slightly before looking at him, “I’ve had a few, nothing serious.”
“Well.” She bites her lip to suppress the smile that threatens to cross her lips, “Do you want one? A serious one?”
He pulls away slightly and looks at her, his lips parted in shock, “Are you asking to be my girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
He grins at her, and she giggles at the excitement that falls over his face, “Of course I do.”
“Then I’ll be your girlfriend.”
He tilts his head and looks at her, “Does that mean we’re officially a couple?”
“I think it does.” They share a kiss, a small one that caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach, something that is very familiar to YN when she’s in Harry’s presence.
YN and Harry had flown home from Paris the day after the final, and they hadn’t been without each other since that day. It was unusual, to say the least, for YN to feel so strongly for someone in such a small space of time, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. YN loved Harry, and she loved being around him and it only made sense that she would want to spend all of her time with him and near him. He hadn’t complained about it, and it had been a week now so YN reckoned that he felt the same way. If he didn’t, he certainly was a good actor.
As much as YN hated to admit it, laying in bed with Harry and just being around him in general made up to be some of YN’s favourite times every in her life. The watched the day meet the night together, the days pass by and mould into new ones, all whilst they were together. Nothing could hurt them as long as they were together, and YN was going to live by that.
Over the last week, they hadn’t done much to say the least. They hardly ever left his house, only to go to the shop, and then the rest of their days were filled with talking, chess, sex and relishing in the time that they had together. In a few months time she would be jet setting the world again, and she wasn’t to know what was going to happen when she arrived so she wanted to stay like this for as long as she could. Neither had them had mentioned the World Championships, and neither of them had made any want to mention it and that was okay. Whilst YN had been laying in Harry’s bed, he had asked her a few things but that had not been one of them. The most surprising thing that he had asked her was whether or not she wanted to live with him for a while, until she found her feet. She had only mentioned that she probably would have to sell the house and buy something smaller once to Harry, but he had mentioned it and he had offered to help her. There was sadness in her, due to the fact that she was having to sell the house that she had grown up in, spent all of her days and learnt to play the very thing that she loved the most just to survive. He’d been there when she cried after talking to the estate agent on the phone, and he had been there when they had phoned her up and said that they already had someone that wanted to look at the house. He had told her that he would be there for her, and YN was beginning to understand that the more that life threw at her.
An hour or so after YN had gotten the news that people were interested in the house, Harry had called her name from the kitchen. At first she hadn’t wanted to leave the little home that she had made herself under Harry’s duvets, but when he called her name again she sighed and stood up, making her way down the stairs and towards Harry’s kitchen. On the island, Harry had prepared a meal for them, with glasses of blackcurrant squash and candles and everything that she could ever want. The thing that she loved the most was that it was him. He moved around the kitchen, finishing up their meal with such ease and all whilst wearing a yellow, floral apron that looked like it had just walked out of a nineteen-fifties advert of some sort.
“What’s all this for?” She had asked, walking over and taking a seat in the one that meant that she still had a view of Harry moving his way around the kitchen.
“I just felt as though. . .” He starts, bringing a bowl over to her and placing it down on the mat that he had placed down, “You needed some cheering up. Pasta always cheers me up, and I guessed that it might work the same for you.”
She had bit her lip to suppress the smile that threatened to move over it but it didn’t work, and the grin crossed over her face. He responded with one of his own, one that made her stomach flutter and her heart miss a beat. He seemed to know how to bring her out of her funks, and make her feel all the better without actually doing that much.
“How did you know?” She grinned.
He sat down in the chair next to her, his own bowl of pasta in front of him and he shrugged, “Call it, a lover’s intuition.”
YN shook her head, laughing at Harry’s choice of words. He was right, they were lovers at some sort at that point in time, but it still didn’t mean that it didn’t cause her heart to flutter in love for the name and also in cringe that the man had said it. There were plenty of things that he could’ve called them, and lovers just seemed to be the worst of them all, “Never call us that again.”
His shoulders shook when he laughed, and her heart started to beat faster within her chest. It just seemed as though anything the man did, absolutely anything, caused her body to only think of that and what it meant to be with him in the way that she was. They hardly said a word during the meal, only stealing stolen glances at each other whenever they found it right to do so, which to YN seemed to be all of the time. It seemed to be the same for Harry, because he also couldn’t take his eyes off of her — holding intervals of looking at his meal in front of him and then at the girl.
“You know. . .” He he started, it being the only thing that he had said the entire time that they had been eating, “I think pasta might actually be the key to my heart.”
When they had finished eating, the two of them moved to the living room. Harry sat in one corner of the sofa whilst YN laid with her head in his lap, him reading a book of some sorts above her whilst she just laid with her eyes closed and the sound of the record that they had spinning filling the room. It was pure and utter bliss, something that she certainly wasn’t going to be taken for granted.
She looked up at him, biting her lip as she looked at his concentrating face, one that he had seen plenty times before.
“What.” She giggled and shook her head.
“Nothing.” She shrugged.
“Nothing?” He closed his book and threw it so that it landed on the coffee table in front of them. She grinned and moved so that she was sat up and facing him, “I’ll give you nothing.”
She fell back so that she was laid on the sofa, Harry’s body hovering over hers. He wrapped his hands around her wrists so he could pin them to the sofa, next to her head. He leant down so that his lips were hovering over hers, “Harry, don’t tease.”
“Why?” He grinned, leaning down to kiss her nose, “I live for teasing.”
She giggled and she moved her head upwards, capturing her lips on his. He pulled away and tutted, “Less of that, I’ll be the one to decide when I’m finished teasing and not.”
“What about me?” She mumbled, pressing a single kiss to his jaw and then to his cheek.
“What about you?” He laughs, “You want to tease me?”
She shrugged, pouting slightly, “I wouldn’t mind it. You tease me enough, I wouldn’t mind to be on the opposite end of it for once.”
Harry shook his head, leaning down and capturing his lips on hers again. She never wanted to stop kissing him, she was addicted to his lips, “I’d like to see you try, love. I think you’re all bark and no bite.”
That night they had gone to bed wrapped up in each others arms, and each other’s taste upon the other’s lips. They were exactly how YN wanted them to be, with each other but also so happy within themselves that they believed noting could hurt them. All of the sadness that she had felt had been pushed to the back of her mind, and all she could focus on was trying to make Harry feel good, and feel as loved as he made her.
“In all seriousness.” She ran her fingers over his forehead, pushing some of his curls off of his forehead, “How many girlfriends have you had?”
Harry sighed again, reaching over and placing his hand upon her cheek. He kissed her. He kissed his girlfriend whilst trying to conjure up the best way to talk about his exes with her. She knew that he maybe wouldn’t want to, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t try. He pulled away and smiled at her, and she knew that everything would be okay.
“I’ve only had three in my life.”
“Three?” She looked a little dumbfounded, and she knew that it probably wasn’t the best look.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “Don’t look so shocked.”
It wasn’t that she was shocked that Harry actually had three girlfriends, she was more so shocked that the number wasn’t higher. She couldn’t believe that nobody had found him as irresistible as she did. A part of her was happy, though, because it meant that nobody had snatched him up before she was given the opportunity to.
“I’m not shocked, maybe surprised.”
Harry chuckled, placing a kiss to her lips, “What are you surprised about?”
“I don’t know, I thought the number would be higher.”
“Are you calling me a slag?”
“No!” She chuckles, shaking her head, “I just can’t believe nobody else has snatched you up, that’s all.”
He raised one of his eyebrows at her, “Are you saying that you’ve snatched me up?”
She chuckled shaking her head and snuggling herself closer into his chest. His fingertips danced over the exposed skin of her back, drawing little doodles onto her skin with the tip of his fingers. YN smiled at the feeling, giggling slightly whenever he did something that tickled the girl, which was more often than not.
“I am.” She grinned, “Is that okay with you?”
“Fine by me.” He certainly seemed happy with the words he was saying, causing her stomach to bubble with excitement.
“Now tell me why I’ve managed to do it.”
He glanced down at her, pressing a singular kiss to her nose, “I don’t know. None of my past relationships ever seemed as serious as this, and they always seemed to end for some reason — usually to do with chess, if I’m honest.”
YN furrowed her eyebrows, not quite sure what he exactly meant from his words, “Chess? What did chess do?”
“You have to admit, chess does take over our lives.”
She ponders the thought for a minute, “I suppose so, yeah.”
“The first girlfriend I had was in high school, and she didn’t like that every free second I had was playing chess, and trying to get better and she didn’t like that. The other two were when I was twenty and then twenty-two, when my career started to peak and they started to think I cared about chess more than then, which wasn’t exactly a lie.”
“I understand.” YN nodded, “I guess that it’s easier for us because I understand it for you, and you understand what it’s like for me.”
He nodded and pulled her closer to his chest, moving slightly on the bed so that his head was level with hers. There was something about laying with him, completely naked for him to see that excited YN but also caused nerves to flush across her entire body. For YN, she had never really had this closeness to someone before and she was learning what she was comfortable with as they went along. She was sure if she wasn’t comfortable she could change the way that she was, but she wasn’t, so she didn’t see the point.
“They didn’t.” He explains, “They saw that I was spending my time going over Ivanov’s work instead of taking them on dates and didn’t like it. I suppose I understand, because I never had any time for them but for us, we’ll be able to spend that time together and focus on our chess.”
“You don’t mind that I’m better than you?”
He looked down at her, “I can’t say my ego likes it but I don’t mind.”
She pouted, tilting her head to the side.
“I don’t think I believe you.”
“Well, I promise you. And anyway, I helped you win. I’ll always have that.”
“You will. I wouldn’t have been able to do it with out you.”
YN looked up at Harry, and he looked as though he was going to say something really profound when in reality he said, “I know.”
Harry laughed as she shook her head, “Are you sure your ego doesn’t mind?”
He nodded, “I’m positive.”
“Now I truly think your bullshitting.”
He runs his fingers across his arm, a silence dropping over them for a second, “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Boyfriends? Relationships?”
“Uh.” She hesitates for a minute, trying to find the right words to say, “I haven’t had a boyfriend before, you’re my first.”
“Really?” He does look shocked, “I can’t believe that.”
“If you knew me a few years ago you would. I never left the house to meet people to date, only to go to the pub and get drunk. People came to the store, obviously, but they were people who knew me as the shy little kid from high school that spent her days with her little travel chessboard rather than concentrating on school.” She explained, “I never tried to make friends because I knew they wouldn’t understand me, and I felt as though people would only want to spend time with me if they had sex with me. It didn’t fill the void when my grandfather left. I still felt just as upset and angry as I did before I left for the pub but it was the only way I thought I could get over it.”
Harry stilled for a second, “I understand.”
“I can’t changed what I did, and I can’t say that I regret it.” She explains, “If I wasn’t how I was I wouldn’t be happy with my chess-playing boyfriend as I am now. My granddad will be so proud.”
“Yeah?” He asks, a large grin crossing his face, “He would?”
She nodded, “If he was alive he’d want to play with you, and he’d probably beat you.”
“I’d be defeated happily.”
“I know you would.”
They smiled at each other and continued to lay in bed, silence overcoming them and the only slight sound they could hear was the light breathing coming from the two of them, and there was something about just sitting with him and doing nothing that she loved, and adored about this man. She was at ease with him, something that she can’t say about much else in her life. Chess made her nervous, and whenever she thought about her family an overwhelming sadness rolled over her but Harry, the man laid beneath her, made everything better.
When the two of them finally decided to get out of bed, they dressed and moved themselves from the bedroom, to the living room. Harry started to give the place a little clean, whilst YN hoovered and then they both settled themselves in the sofa. There was something about being so domestic with each other that YN loved and wanted nothing more than to do for the rest of her life. YN was reading, and Harry was scrolling through his phone as a vinyl spun around on Harry’s player. It was another thing that YN loved about being with Harry — they didn’t have to talk and they were just comfortable with each other.
“YN?” She hummed when she heard Harry’s voice, not lifting her eyes away from the book that she was reading. It wasn’t chess, for once, and she was really enjoying it, “We do need to talk about the Championships at some point.”
She shakes her head, “I don’t want to.”
Harry chuckled and sat down the sofa with her, dropping her head to her shoulder, “We need to. You have the World Championships in less than a month.”
“Thank you for reminding me.”
“You’re welcome.” He chuckled, “But we do need to talk about it. Have the ECA said anything?”
“Nope.” She pops her ‘p’ and shakes her head, “Well, I don’t think so. I haven’t looked at the mail.”
“Is it coming here?” He asked and she nodded, so he got up and walked towards the door, picking up a few envelopes and shifting through them until he found the one that he was looking for, “I think I’ve found it.”
She places the book down on the coffee table and holds her hand out for the letter, “Let’s look at this, then.”
He passes it to her and she sighs, opening the envelope and immediately being met with the ECA’s logo embossed in gold at the top. Very fancy for a chess association, she must admit.
“Read it to me.” Harry says, dropping his head to her lap and she nods.
“Dear YN YLN.” She starts, “To start, the English Chess Association would love to congratulate you on your recent win to become the European Champion, we are so proud of you, and I hope you know how amazing you are. A little bit of history for you: the last British Champion was Isaac Williams who won in 1956. You are also the first female champion to ever win. Honestly, Harry I can’t explain how pissed off I am with the female shit. I’ve had this at every single game I’ve ever played except from the one with Sarah and I’m sorry to get heated, but my fucking vagina doesn’t make any difference to how I play chess.”
Harry blinks at her for a second before bursting out in laughter. She looks at him and tries not to laugh, because she is being very serious, but his laugh is infectious and she can’t help but laughing.
“You need to print that on a t-shirt.” He wipes one of the tears that had slipped out of his eye from his cheek, “That was gold, fuck, I wish I had recorded it.”
She rolls her eyes at him before picking up the letter again and continuing to read, “As you know, the winner of the European Championships is invited to play in the World Championships, with the best players from the other continents in the world in Russia. The last time that a British player made it there, I’m sure you could guess, was in 1956. A British player has never, ever won the Championships, but we hope that it will be you.”
“It will be you.” Harry nods, “I have absolutely no doubt about that.”
“I’m glad you don’t because I certainly do.”
“Oh shut it, will you.” He shakes his head and pokes her stomach slightly, “You’re going to win.”
“I’ll let you keep thinking that.” She shakes her head and clears her throat, “At the moment, we have the information to book your tickets for yourself and your second, Mr. Harry Styles. The trip will be for seven days to Moscow, Russia. If this isn’t the case please let us know ASAP. We wish you all the best and we will send all of the information closer to the time. Sincerely, everyone at the ECA.”
The letter wasn’t as impressive or as interesting as she thought it was going to be and she was disappointed that there wasn’t anything of real substance for the girl to read and look at. YN passed Harry the letter, and he reached forward to place it on the coffee table. YN dropped her hand to run through his hair.
“Is that still the case?” She asks, a slight nervousness to her words when she said them.
“Is what still the case?”
“That you want to come to Russia with me?”
Harry sat up immediately and turned so that he was looking at her, directly in the eye and not moving them away from hers. She would say that she felt a little intimidated but now that she knew Harry there wasn’t an intimidating bone in his body even if he tried.
“Do you not want me to?”
“Of course I want you to.”
“Then I’m coming.” He smiles, “I never wasn’t coming. I’d never let you go to Russia to play on your own — it’s a recipe for disaster.”
“Probably.” She hums, “I don’t want to think about it.”
“We’re going to have to think about it.”
“I know.” She sighs, dropping her head to his shoulder, “It’ll be Mr. Styles’ chess training camp again, and I’ll feel like I’ll be walking around half-asleep all of the time.”
“It wasn’t that bad!”
“It was.”
His lips clamp shut for a second, “I’m not sorry for it. You won.”
“I’m not either.” She lifts her head up again and looks at him, “I just like complaining.”
“I know you do.” He sighs, leaning forward to place a kiss to her lips, “It’s a good thing I like you, love you even.”
It certainly was.
A week or so later the two of them had to take a break from going over chess games to drive up to the North West of England so that they could pack up YN’s grandparents house up and get everything sorted that needed to be. It was a long few days of packing everything up, and taking things where they needed to go but YN was happy that she had done it, seeing as though she wouldn’t be able to look after the place on her own and it seemed to like a waste to keep the house for herself when a family could live in it and create memories just like she had done with her grandparents.
All of YN’s boxes of things, albeit there weren’t that many, they brought to Harry’s house. He had offered to let her stay there for a while when they arrived back from Paris, and she promised herself that at some point she would start apartment hunting for somewhere to live but the two of them were okay with what they had going on at the moment, and she wasn’t going to ruin it by starting to apartment hunt. In a few weeks, if Harry turned to her and asked her to leave then she would, but right now she was okay.
They had gotten back into the swing of practicing and constantly going through and playing different games to the point that YN wanted to rip her hair out. She understood why it was important, because she did want to win but at the same time she hated that the higher she went in the chess world, the more pressure she felt to succeed and find herself at the top every single time. If she didn’t have a chance at all to win, then she would try her best and accept that she lost but when she knows that she could win, it makes everything ten times worse.
As much as she hated to admit it, she’s noticed that it also makes Harry ten times worse.
Leant back in her chair, her arms crossed and her eyes slowly closing, she found herself letting out yawns in intervals quick that what she usually would to say the least. Harry was dribbling on about something that she knew that she should probably should be paying attention to but they had been at this for hours today and she can’t remember how many weeks that they had been like this now. There was only so much chess that one can endure without going a little bit insane, and YN was teetering on the edge.
Harry was looking over something in a book when she stood up to take her plate and mug into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
She stopped when she heard his voice and turned around slowly to show him the plate and cup in her hand, “I was going to wash up.”
She raises her eyebrow at him and he looks at her as though she really does have three heads sitting on her shoulders. She really didn’t think that it was too much of an odd thing to want to do, especially as the time was teetering on being quiet late and she wanted nothing more than to shower and get in bed. A hot shower and getting in Harry’s warm bed sounded like bliss if she was honest.
“We haven’t started these games yet.”
“I’m just really tired, Harry.” She explains, “I just want to go and get in the shower and then get in bed. Can’t we start them tomorrow?”
He sighs and drops the book that he had in his hands on the table, “We need to go over Kuznestov’s attack tomorrow, we won’t have time.”
“Harry. . .we will.” She starts, starting to feel more and more irritated as time continued, “I just need to go to bed now. I’m really tired.”
“And if we miss something, we’ll fall behind. We don’t have time for that.” Harry spoke, as though it was the most important thing in the world and not the fact that she needed sleep.
She shook her head and walked into the kitchen, not wanting to listen to whatever else he had to say, “Harry, we’ll make time for it. I need sleep.”
He shook his head, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest and following her into the kitchen. She didn’t look at him and instead placed the plates and mug in the sink and started the water.
“YN.” He was close to her, she could hear him. She flickered her eyes back to look at him and saw him leant against the counter opposite where she was stood, “I’m only trying to help you. The more we prepare the better you’ll be when we get to Russia.”
She looked away from him again, her eyes falling back to the sink that was now full of water. She shook her head and picked up the washing up liquid that was in a bottle by the side of her and grabbed a sponge that would make it easier for her to clean up the dishes. She wouldn’t say that she was annoyed with him at this moment, but if he carried on the way that he was she knew that it wouldn’t be long before she really was annoyed with him. He wasn’t listening to her and seemed to be ignoring every little thing that she said.
After a few minutes or so, and after she had cleaned both her plate and her mug and placed them on the draining board, she turned to look at him, “Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to go to sleep.”
“You can.” He shrugs, “Once we’ve finished the games we had planned.”
“You had planned.”
“Oh, so now you don’t want to do it?”
“Harry—”
“— YN, I am just looking out for you, that’s all I’m doing. I could be doing a thousand other things right now than helping you with this fucking chess but I’m doing this for you! The least you could do is actually fucking be awake for me to do so!”
Everything in YN’s body stilled and she closed her eyes.
“I understand that you want to help me Harry, I do—”
“No!” He stopped her immediately, “I don’t think you do, YN! I’ve fucking planned and worked my arse off so that I can make sure that you’re prepared to play the best fucking players in the world and all I get is that you’re fucking tired?”
“Don’t you think that I deserve a break? We deserve a break?”
“I do.” He explains, his eyes lifting to look at her, “And we’ll get it when we’re back from Russia and you’re world champion.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.
“You know what, Harry?” He hums, “I would agree with you, but I’ve worked my ass off for I don’t know how long, I don’t know whether I have enough money to survive and I’m fucking petrified of playing these players and for one day, one fucking day, I just want to shower and go to sleep earlier than fucking midnight.”
“YN—”
“No, Harry!” She sighs, “I’m not going to listen to you say all of that and then not stand up for myself. I’m exhausted and I just won’t stand for it!”
He blinked at her a few times and ran a hand through his hair, “I’m just trying to keep things realistic, YN.”
“Realistic?”
“These players, as we keep saying, are the best in the world! Best. You know I believe in your YN, but I’ll believe in you more if you keep preparing and looking over the games like we had been.”
She sighed, “It’s one night, Harry. Five fucking hours.”
“That’s still time that we’re wasting.”
“Does anything matter to you other than chess?” She sighed, leaning back and crossing her arms across her chest, “I’m fucking standing here and arguing with you I could be in the shower and be in bed by now.”
YN saw the vein pop out of his head, and she wondered how angry he was getting, “Why aren’t you then?”
“Because I’m stood here arguing with you! You’re so adamant against the fucking thing!”
YN closed her eyes and tried to stop them from becoming even blurrier than they were.
“I just want you to win, YN. That’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, “I know, Harry.”
“Then you must understand where I’m coming from.”
YN clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip and nodded, her heart racing out of her chest. She knew that it was important but she just wanted to sleep.
“I know you’re trying to help me, Harry, I know you are.” She sighs, lifting her hand up to wipe her cheek, “But sometimes people need a break, and today is one of those times. I’m tired. I need a shower. The last thing I want to do is start looking through more of Kuznestov’s games when I know that they’ll be hard and complicated and I’m almost certain that the words will go in one ear and out the other. I just know it.”
After a minute or so Harry sighed and nodded his head.
“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get in the shower.”
There was a part of YN that knew that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave Harry and go get in the shower, since he was right and she did have a Championship competition to play in a couple of weeks but she couldn’t overwork herself, and she knew that. She was surprised that he didn’t know that. He had been playing in these Championships a lot longer than she had, so he must know that overworking isn’t a good idea, right? YN knew that overworking in school wasn’t a good thing, and she knew that overworking in a setting like this isn’t something that should be done. That didn’t mean to say that she hadn’t done it to herself in the past, it was just now that she decided not to do so.
Harry must understand that. He has to. Harry was one of the most understanding people that she had ever met in her life and now here he was seemingly not understanding something that she thinks most people should know. When they were at her house, preparing for Paris, he worked her hard and long hours but she never once wanted to stop. Maybe that was why she hadn’t noticed that he overworks not only himself but the people he is around.
YN let out a long sigh as she walked up the stairs, making her way down the hall and towards Harry’s bathroom that now had quite a few of her toiletries in. She didn’t know what Harry was doing downstairs, and a part of her didn’t want to know what he was doing. When she walked into the room, she closed the door behind her and leant her head against it with a sigh. She hoped that the shower she was gong to have would calm her down, relax all of her limbs so that she could enjoy it. She moved her towel from the radiator to the cabinet by the shower door so that she’d be able to reach it and turned on the water, not stepping in just yet so it had time to warm up. She stripped of her clothes, dropping the material into a pile on the floor and then kicking it away so that it wouldn’t get wet when she was opening and closing the shower door.
Once the water was warm enough, she opened the shower door and stepped in, allowing the warm water to flow down her body. She instantly felt her muscles relax under the stream of water, all of the tension leaving her body as she sighed. As she stood there, she remembered that she knew that Harry had did have down time in his life, she just wondered whether he had it enough. She maybe thought that he only had downtime whenever he didn’t need to prepare for something, but because YN did have to prepare for something, maybe he didn’t think that they should have downtime. She didn’t know, because she hadn’t been with him when they had prepared for things before, whether he worked and worked and didn’t give himself any breaks until he had finished the Championships. Maybe that was why he didn’t like the idea of the break but she didn’t know, she was only thinking of things.
She started to wonder whether or not that was one of the reasons that when YN met Harry, he was so against continuing to play in Championships. If he had been playing non-stop and practicing non-stop than she wasn’t surprised that he wanted to stop playing. It wasn’t an healthy way to do something. All of these thoughts ran around her head and she started to feel sorry for him, and it was as though the argument they had just had evaporated from her and all she could think about was making sure that he was okay and letting him know that she only wants to help him understand.
As she ran her hand over her hair, slicking it back and making sure that every strand was wet she heard bathroom door open. She turned her head from looking at the wall to the door, where Harry was now stood. He looked at her with questioning eyes and bit his lip, and no matter how much she knew that it probably wasn’t the best thing to do, especially after they’ve just argued, she nodded her head for him to come into the room, and hopefully into the shower. She watched as he slipped the shirt he had on his body over his head and pulled both his joggers and boxers down at the same time, leaving him completely naked and watching every move she made. She looked back at the wall and heard the door open, the cool air of the bathroom invading the shower as she stood there. She shivered slightly. He came up behind her, so close that she could feel him hovering as though he was slightly nervous to touch her. She felt his hand hovering over her shoulder and she leant back slightly so that his skin met hers. He obviously picked up a little courage, and he moved her hair to the side so that the back of her neck was exposed to him. He leaned forward and placed a kiss to her skin, the sort of kiss that to YN felt like an apology. An apology without any words.
YN leant her head back so that she could rest it upon Harry’s shoulder, her back immediately pressing to his front and the two of them feeling sort of like themselves again. He rested his hand upon her waist, and she closed her eyes at the feeling. YN had never in her life had a connection like this before, one where she could communicate with someone without having to say anything. It was a breath of fresh air, especially since a lot of the time she didn’t really know what to say when it came to talking to people, especially when it came to emotions — she was way better at showing them than speaking them.
Harry’s hand moved across from her hip to her stomach, dancing across the skin lightly. She threw her head back even further if it was possible and hummed, her eyes fluttering shut when she felt his hand slip lower to meeting between her thighs. He used one of his fingers to run between her folds, feeling the arousal that had started to collect there just from him touching her lightly. To her, she couldn’t understand how him making such light movements across her skin could make her feel the way that it did. He started to circle his finger over her clit, the tightness immediately gathering in her stomach and her legs starting to tremble slightly. She let out what she thought was a quite moan but it must have been louder than she anticipated because it seemed to egg Harry on, circling his finger faster. He couldn’t take his eyes away from looking at her, down her body and to the point where his finger met her. He could almost moan at the sight himself but he kept it together, knowing that it would be a little embarrassing due to the fact that nobody was touching him at all.
YN couldn’t help it, and she burrowed her hips backward, the softness of her skin rutting against his hardening cock. He couldn’t help but groan into her ear at the feeling of that, she couldn’t help it. Her hips twisted against his finger, and as he circled his finger quicker he could feel how hot and slick her cunt was, and how it convulsed for him. He wanted to please her, and he felt as thong the was when he heard the little moans and whimpers that left her lips. He could listen to that sound forever and never get tired of it. It was like music to his ears, a sweet sound that he wanted to savour and cherish for as long as he physically could. She knew that she wasn’t going to last very long, especially if he carried on like he was, circling her clit whilst one of his hands tweaked her nipple.
“Gonna come for me?” His voice was gruff in her ear, “Gonna come, baby?”
“H. . .” She couldn’t even say his entire name, and the words came out of her lips embarrassingly breathy. She whimpered as his fingers left her clit and moved them down so he could slip two into her wet cunt.
He lifted his other hand to her hair and manoeuvred her head so that he could place his lips upon hers. They haven’t done anything in the shower before, and the feeling of it sent her head spiralling and every part of her body wanting more. She was completely and utterly devoted to him, and to his touch and no matter how much she could try and convince herself that she wasn’t she certainly was. If Harry was the only person in the world that she could speak to and be with after this day she wouldn’t mind at all, because he was one of the easiest people to be around that she had ever met, and one of the best people she had ever met. YN felt as though they were made for each other, and she knew that there was a word for that but she just couldn’t remember what it was.
She tipped her head back again and whimpered when he started to move his fingers in and out quicker, slipping his other hand down her body to toy with her clit. He knew how to make her feel good and more importantly he knew the things that would have her withering underneath his touchy and screaming his name at the top of his lungs. He loved her and she loved him, and that meant that they knew how to do things for each other, things such as these.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered in her ear, “I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes immediately opened and she turned her head to look at him, she could almost see the tears in his eyes. He didn’t stop his movements, and she felt overcome with a lot of emotions in such a short amount of time that she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She didn’t move her eyes away from the side of his head and he didn’t move his away from the spot in between her legs where his hands still rested.
“Please say something.”
“I forgive you, Harry.” She says, her words coming out jumbled, “I do, but please. . .”
He quickened the pace of his fingers and she lifted her hand and gripped his arm, her nails digging into his arm as he brought her closer and closer to her climax, the feeling bubbling within the pit of her stomach and causing her eye sight to go slightly blurred.
“Please what?”
“Harry you know what!” She threw her head back and moaned, the sound filling up the small room they were in.
He curled his fingers deeper in side of her, grinning slightly into her shoulder as she noticed her hips rolling and her lips parted, his fingers obviously hitting the spot within her that brought her closer and closer to her peak.
“I don’t think I do.” He teased, “Tell me.”
She was right on the edge of her orgasm. She knew that, and he knew that. The hot water from the shower still sprayed onto them, and she wished that it relaxed her like it had done when she had stepped under the stream not that long ago but now it just seemed to bubble in her and cause even more heat to dance over her body. Her head pushed against his shoulders, and she knew that she was digging her nails into his skin harshly but she just couldn’t help it, her legs were starting to tremble and she knew that she was going to jump off the edge at any second.
“Come, baby.” He whispered in her ear, “Do it. I know you’re there.”
She was there. Her entire body shook and she felt a heat run across her body like wildfire. She moaned and didn’t care about how loud she was because she knew that nobody else could hear her but the two of them. She saw stars when she came, and she didn’t know whether or not it was because of the heat of the shower or because of how emotional she felt. It just seemed as though everything that had happened today came to that point.
Once she had recovered slightly, she turned around and placed her lips onto his. Their fronts were now flushed against each other, her arms around his neck and their lips firmly clamped together. She didn’t want to pull away, and she could feel Harry’s cock against her and she knew that she had to do something to make him feel better. She moved one of his hands down from around his neck to his chest, dancing over the tattoos that littered his skin and down until she could she could take him in her hand. He groaned and dropped his head against her neck as she wrapped her hand around him, moving it up and down as the stream of water poured above them. He knew that he wasn’t going to last long, and the way that she every so often ran her thumb over the tip of his cock meant that the time was coming on them quicker and quicker.
“What do you want, Harry?” She taunts, the words slipping off her grinning lips, “Tell me.”
He groans in response to her and shakes his head, knowing exactly why she was saying this. He loved to tease her, and she hated it but whenever she felt like she had the upper hand she had absolutely positively made sure to do it back to him. He deserved it.
“Fuck, baby.” She moved her hand quicker and she could see his stomach flexing, and she knew that he was close. When he did, it landed both on her stomach and on the floor of the shower, slipping down the drain and being washed away. Harry lifted his head from her shoulder to place a kiss to her lips.
She pulled away and leant over to grab his shampoo, and he knew that everything would be okay.
Harry was still asleep when YN woke up the next morning, and she decided that it was probably best if she didn’t wake him up, so she didn’t. She slipped out of bed and pulled on Harry’s purple dressing gown that was hung on the back of the door and made her way downstairs. Downstairs looked identical to how it had when she left last night, with her dishes still on the draining board and the chess board still set out on the table in the same way that it had been when she left. She sighed and moved the pieces back to the way they would be if she was about to start a new game, thinking in her head that it was a new day and it would be best if she was starting a fresh. Once she had done that she made her way back into the kitchen so that she could boil the kettle. She took out two mugs from the cupboard and placed a tea bag in one and left the other by the coffee machine for when she knew that Harry would want when he came downstairs.
She poured herself a cup of tea, one that she knew would at least start to bring her round once she’d had it from her slumber. She sat down at the table that they had been working at last night, and throughout the days prior to that and looked at the board. She knew that she needed to carry on working through games, and she said that would continue the next day but she just needed a break then, but Harry didn’t listen to that, and here she is. The Kuznestov games that Harry wanted to go through yesterday were still sat in a book by Harry’s side of the table, so she reached over and picked up the book, sighing when she saw the page that he obviously wanted to work on and opened it up, starting to play through the moves in complete and utter silence.
“YN?” She heard Harry call her name from upstairs.
“Down here!”
She could hear the taps of his feet on the ceiling above her, and then to the right where she could hear him walking down the stairs.
The stairs creaked as he moved, “Have you seen my dressing gown?”
“The one that’s on my body?”
He stops dead in his track when he saw her sat at the table, with a king rested comfortably within her palm, “Yeah. That’s the one.”
“Your mugs under the coffee machine.”
“Thanks, darling.” He walks past her and places a kiss to her temple, as she just carries on looking at the board and flicking through all of her options in her head.
She tried to concentrate on the chess board in front of her, but when the loud buzzing of the coffee machine started and then Harry’s whistling that she normally loves to hear but today just isn’t sitting right, she drops her elbows on the table presses her fists into her temple to study the board. No matter how many times she thought she found a move that could counter the one that Kuznestov played, it hardly ever played out for longer than a few moves.
In a few weeks she would be playing this man, no doubt in the final of the World Championships because if anyone was going to stand a chance of beating her, it was this man, and here she was, unable to find a move to counter his that wasn’t one that caused his opponent to loose. She wasn’t too nervous, because she knew that she’d be able to find one at some point but she was starting to feel as though everything that happened yesterday didn’t help her cause to say the least.
“YN.” Harry walked over to where she was stood, his now full of coffee in his hand. She had been trying so hard to find a move that she hadn’t even noticed that the coffee machine had finished its buzzing and Harry had finished his whistling, “What are you playing?”
“Kuznestov.”
“What year?”
“2002. Against—”
“— Eugene.”
YN rolled her eyes, unable to stop herself, “Yes. Against Eugene.”
“He was at his prime then. Kind of like you are now. I can’t say that he’s gotten worse than then, but I can’t say that he’s gotten any better.” Harry sits down and places his mug on the coaster that they had there from the day prior, “You won’t be able to find any faults because there aren’t any. His games from 2002 and 2003 have no mistakes in them, and if they do, then I and plenty of other people haven’t found them.”
“Nobody has found any moves that would give his opponent the upper hand?”
Harry shakes his head, “I studied them a few years ago, when I was preparing for a tournament in Germany. He wasn’t there but it was good practice.”
“You played in Germany? I didn’t know that.”
“I went through my international phase just like you are. I think I was twenty-two, twenty-three.”
“International phase?” She chuckles and crosses her arms over her chest, “That’s what I’m in now?”
“Yeah. Jet-setting all over the world, playing top-level chess in hopes that I’d bring home a hefty pay-check at the end.”
“Where else did you play?”
“Ugh.” He leant back in the seat, blowing out a breath of air as if he was thinking slightly, “I played in Berlin. Kraków, uh, Madrid. I played a bit of speed chess in New York when I was twenty-one, went with Mitch and a few other players from the ECA. It wasn’t really a work trip though, more so a—”
“Play speed chess and gamble sort of trip?”
He nodded.
“Exactly that.”
“Did you always win there too? When you played?”
He shifted his head from side to side slightly, “The majority of the time. Most of the time it was just betting for money. They weren’t on the book games, so to speak.”
“But you prepared for them like you would a tournament?”
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”
“How would you prepare for them, Harry?”
She leant back in her seat, keeping her arms crossed over chest as she looked at him. She didn’t mean for it to come out like it was but she just couldn’t help herself.
“What is this? An interrogation?”
She shrugs, “I’m just curious.”
“Why? It’s all in the past. I won’t be playing anymore tournaments myself but I’ll help you prepare. I always will.”
“I know that.” She nods, “But how did you prepare when you did play them?”
It was his turn to shrug his shoulders, “Similarly to the way you do, I guess. I play through the games I find necessary before I leave and then I play.”
“How long did you practice for?”
“YN, I don’t know how this is—”
“How long?”
“I don’t know, okay?” He snapped, but she didn’t flinch at the sight raise of his voice, “I did it like we do now. A nine to five. Like a working day.”
YN shakes her head, “I know when you’re lying, Harry.”
He stands up, knocking his chair back slightly as he did so. She kept her face stern and her eyes directly forward.
“What do you want from me, YN?”
“I want you to tell me the truth!” She says, looking up at him, “I just want to know, Harry.”
He looks at her, and sees her eyes and the tears that have started to collect in them and sits down again in his chair.
“I wouldn’t stop, okay?” He says, dropping his eyes down to the table and then looking back up at her, “I couldn’t stop.”
YN’s lips parted slightly but she calmed them shut not that long after, “What happened, Harry?” He didn’t say anything, “We’re supposed to talk to each other, right? Trust each other? Tell each other everything?”
He looked at her for a few seconds and then nodded. YN waited until he was ready to say something, not really wanted to push him further than she already was.
“When I first started playing chess, I loved it. I couldn’t wait to get home and play the game that I as actually good at, something that I could beat anyone who I played against and I was only a kid.” He shook his head slightly, “My parents didn’t see it as something to be proud of. They saw it as a money making scheme. Started me playing in tournaments and even paid someone to train me.”
“Train you?”
He nodded, “His name was Rick. He was a national master of some sorts but then something happened and got his title revoked and he wasn’t allowed to play in anymore ECA games. He still played in underground games and somehow my parents found out about him and hired him.”
“What did he do?”
“He cheated.” Harry shrugged, “When I searched him up it only said that he cheated, never explained how. He also never spoke about it, so I didn’t know.”
“And he trained you?”
“He made me do what I showed you. Look through certain books and pamphlets and play through the games, hoping that I could find some mistake.”
“Did you? I find the mistakes?”
“I couldn’t leave until I did.”
YN’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”
“He wouldn’t let me leave the room until I did. I’d spend hours, days and nights staring at the same game on the board until I thought of something, anything so that I could go outside. Or have some food. Just something.”
“What did you parents say?”
“They didn’t care.” He shook his head, “My sister tried to get me out a few times but it was useless. He wouldn’t budge and they wouldn’t.”
“Harry.” Her voice is quiet, and she’s trying to find the right way to ask this but she just can’t find the words, “Did he ever?”
He looked down, “When it came to Kuznestov’s games, and other grandmasters games where they just didn’t make mistakes he’d get angry. He’d say that he was giving his time to helping me and I couldn’t even do what was asked of me. He’d say I wasn’t worth his time and that slackers don’t get anywhere in this world and then he’d. . . then he’d punch me.”
The words cut through YN like a knife, and it all starts to become more obvious the more that YN thought about it. When she first met him, the first time she ever got angry with him he was trying to get out of playing tournaments like the ones that they were, and it was starting to make sense. He was trying to break himself out of the cycle, the cycle that he had grown up with and known nothing else but what it was like and she certainly hadn’t been someone to help, to say the last. She had asked him to help her prepare, and because she had no idea about what that as going to be like for him, because he hadn’t spoken to her, he had no idea about the consequences.
She wished that he had told her. If he had, she wouldn’t have ever asked him to help her. If she had known what it was like for him, and what it could do to him she would have never had offered. At the same time that she was thinking this, he could’ve also told her. At any point during the time they had been together he could have told her, and it had taken to her literally forcing it out of her to get some information. She was guilty that it had to be done this way, but at the same time, she was happy that she knew. It was information that she needed to know.
“Harry.” A tear rolls down her cheek, followed by others, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t have asked you to help me.” She sniffs, running the back of her hand across her cheeks, “I would’ve done it by myself. You didn’t need to put yourself through it.”
“I was okay.” He shrugs, “I didn’t struggle with anything up until yesterday. I could feel it all day and I didn’t say anything. I should’ve. I apologise.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry.” She reaches by the side of the board and over the table so that she could grab his hand, “I’m sorry. I pushed you tell me. I should’ve known that it wasn’t right. I should be the one apologising.
“I guess we’re both sorry, then.” He says, lifting her hand up to his lips so he could place a delicate kiss to the skin.
“I just need you to promise me one thing, Harry.”
“Anything.”
“You won’t keep anything like this from me again?”
“I promise.”
The two of them had a sort of agreement from that conversation onwards. YN still prepared for the Championship in Russia, but the routine wasn’t as rigours and Harry wasn’t as involved with it. He still was there if she needed to talk to him about anything, or if he noticed that she’d missed anything but she never, ever pushed him to do something that she knew might not be the best thing for them, and he never, ever pushed her to carry on doing something or to start something that she didn’t want to. They had their own little routines that they kept to, but they always made time for each other, and that’s probably why they managed to keep everything calm and collected like it had been before their little bust up. YN was thankful for that.
The week before they left for Russia, YN started to work longer hours than she had done. She’d get up at nine and work though games and tactics and endgames until around five o’clock. Harry would come and help for an hour or so in the morning and then for a few hours in the afternoon but he would distract himself with others things. YN knew that he had started to play in more speed chess competitions in London, but he hadn’t explained to her what else he was doing. She didn’t want to pry but she couldn’t say that she wasn’t curious.
Leaving for Russia, YN was more nervous than she had been for any other tournament. She had said that the last time she played abroad, in Paris, but she truly meant it this time. The people she was going to be playing, she had been studying their games and learning from their games since she was a child herself, and here she was, going to play them. No matter how many times she reminded herself that she would be able to do it and there was a reason she had gotten this far, but it didn’t help overall when she had a real knack for self-sabotage just before she was going to play in one of the biggest tournaments of her life.
They were sat in the back of a taxi, on their way from the airport to their hotel in Moscow. YN’s hands were messing with the end of her jumper, and her leg was periodically bouncing up and down. Harry had put his hand on her thighs, hoping that it would stop the bounce but it just transferred to the other leg, and he knew that he had to do something about it.
“YN.” Harry grabs one of her hands and threads his fingers through it, “Let’s play chess.”
She turned up to look at him, her eyebrows furrowing, “Chess? I’m about to play hours of it.”
“I know.” He runs his thumb over the back of her hand, “But you won’t be playing against me.”
She shakes her head, “We don’t have a board.”
“We don’t need one.” He shrugged, “We can play in our heads.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be white since it was my idea.” He grins at her and she rolls her eyes, “Pawn to king four.”
“Pawn to queen bishop four.”
“N.” Using a ’N’ when describing a piece meant a knight, “K-B3.”
“Pawn to queen three.” She truly had to think about the moves when she played like this, thinking strategically and focusing on the board and the different movements each person made all on her head. From the years she had been playing, she could imagine the board up but had to focus more on making sure that she didn’t miss anything. She hadn’t played like this before.
“P to Q four.”
“Pawn takes pawn.”
“Knight takes.”
“N.” She tilts her head to the side, “King bishop three.”
Thinking more about it, she realised that it was easy, and what Harry had planned for it to do was actually working. She wasn’t worried about what was going to happen in the Championship because she was now focusing on the imaginary pieces on the imaginary board in her head without any difficultly.
“N to Q-B.”
“Pawn to king’s night there.” She responded.
“P to B four.”
“P to B four.”
“Not my favourite.” He shakes his head.
She shrugged, “I like it.”
She looked out of the window for a few minutes, looking at all of the cars lined next to her trying to get to the centre of the city. They were stuck under a tunnel, and she could hear the driver muttering something in Russian that YN didn’t understand.
“Knight to B-3.”
“Knight takes.”
“Pawn takes.”
“Pawn to king five.”
“Pawn takes again.” YN smiles, knowing that she’d studied that a few days prior, “What are you smiling at?”
“Nothing.” She shakes her head, “Queen takes Queen. Check.”
“King takes.” They continued to play to around twenty-eight moves, up until the point where he had no choice but to resign.
“Why did I offer to play you?” Harry shakes his head, running his hand over his face, “I always end up fucking loosing.”
She looks at him and smiles, “You were trying to help me. Thank you for that.”
He hums, leaning forward to place a kiss to her lips, “I’m just such a good person. I even push past the fact that you’re so much better than me at chess.”
“I suppose you have to.”
They were playing and taking for so long that they hadn’t even noticed that they were outside of the hotel they were staying in until the car stopped. Harry thanked the driver and paid and they made their way inside. It was extravagant and beautiful, with marble floors and chandeliers and the expensiveness that YN only ever seemed to have when she came to tournaments and competitions. She couldn’t help that her lips parted in awe as she looked around. It seemed as though not only did the stakes in every Championship rise when YN moved further up, but the extravagance of the hotels also did too.
“Have you ever seen anything like it?” She mumbled to Harry, as she looked around and he did the same.
“It’s certainly something that’s for sure.”
“I wonder what the rooms look like.”
Harry turned to her and grinned, and she rolled her eyes in response, “I’m sure we’ll be finding out what they look like very soon.”
“Just get going, will you?”
He chuckled and walked forward towards the reception. She ignored his chuckles and walked even further towards him, this time making her way to the receptionist first. She ignored his tut and carried on what she was doing. She was given a large key with a fancy keyring on it that said ’24’ on it. Harry grinned and took the key off of her, and she didn’t protest and instead just walked up towards the lift and pressed the button for it.
Their room was more like an apartment, and it still shocked YN every time she stepped into one of the hotel rooms and it seemed to get bigger and better than the one that they had been in prior. The sitting room had a TV, sofa and a whole dining table that would be perfect for some last minute practice before play started the next day. The colour scheme was black, white and a dark green that YN wouldn’t mind decorating a room in her house with the colours of this room.
Her house. When the thought ran across her mind of having a house that was hers, she couldn’t quite imagine it. If someone had asked her a couple of months ago, she would probably say that she would live in her grandmother house forever, but that had changed. She would’ve then provably said that she would find herself a flat somewhere, just a small one but somewhere to live and call her own. She loved the idea of having somewhere to call her own when she was younger but now, everything had changed.
YN couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without Harry. She couldn’t imagine waking up and not having her beside him, his body touching hers and his light snores filling the room. She couldn’t imagine making herself a cup of tea and not having to make Harry a coffee. She couldn’t imagine playing through a chess game without him either sat across from her or somewhere within shouting vicinity. She just couldn’t imagine it. YN could honestly and truthfully say that if when they return back from Russia, even though they really hadn’t been together a long time and it probably was way too early to think about anything of this sort, if Harry asked her to move in with him, she would say yes without any hesitation. She didn’t know whether he would ask her to move in with him, full time and not just whilst she found her feet, but a part of her wished that he would. Prayed that he would, actually.
“YN!” She heard Harry call her name from the other room, “Come look at this.”
She makes her way towards his voice and sees him sprawled out across one of the largest beds she’d ever seen. It must have been double the size of a double bed, and she couldn’t help but wonder why someone would need such a big a bed and how many people would be able to fit in the bed at one time. Harry lifted himself up on his elbows and smiled at her, tilting his head as if to urge her to come and sit on the bed with him. She walks over to him and straddles his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Harry placed his hands on the skin of her back, underneath her jumper.
“I’m going to miss this.” He muttered, smiling at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Once you win this there’s no where else to go. No more ECA competitions for you to win. You can play wherever you want.”
“We can still go away though.”
“I know.” He nods, his tongue slipping out to wet his bottom lip, “But it won’t be the same.”
“We could make it the same.”
“I know we could.” He grins, “But I think the next time we leave England, I want it to be for a proper holiday. One where we can be tourists and do touristy things and annoy all of the locals we meet.”
“By being tourists our just with your bad language skills?”
“Both.” They both chuckle.
“Would we leave the chess at home?”
He nods, “We certainly would.”
“Where would we go?”
“Somewhere hot.” She nods her head, liking the idea, “And we wouldn’t do anything. Nothing of real strain at all.”
“I like that idea even more.”
“I’m glad.” He leans forward a places a kiss to her nose, “But first? You need to win this so that will all become a reality.”
“I’ll try.” She grins, “Just for you.”
After placing a long kiss on his lips, she pulls away and clambers off his lap, making her way into the bathroom that it attached to the bedroom. The first thing she notices is the grand porcelain bathtub sat in the middle of the room, one that immediately sparks her interest as something she wouldn’t mind spending her time in whilst she’s here. She’d probably do it after having a particularly hard game, which she knew would be coming up with all of the people who she would eventually be playing during her time here.
“I think we should get a bath.” Harry spoke as he walked into the room, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets.
“A bath? Where? In your house?”
“No, I think we should get it for the garden.” He sakes his head, “Of course I meant in my house. I think it’d be a good new addition.”
“Why haven’t you gotten a bath before?” She asks, turning around so that she’s facing him and her back is leant against the sinks counter, “You have enough room in your bathroom for it, and enough money for that matter.”
He shrugs, “There wasn’t one when I moved in and I never felt the need to get one. I wasn’t one for baths myself and I’ve never had someone to want to share one with. . . until now.”
She shakes her head at his remark, and more so at the wiggle of his eyebrows that he gives her, “Don’t get your hopes up too quickly, baby, I think I might make you wait a little longer.”
He sighs, “Why?”
“Dunno.” She shrugs, walking over to him, “Just feel like it. I have things to do, can’t be distracting myself with baths of all things.”
She leaves the bathroom with a small smile and after placing a kiss to his cheek.
When she arrived for play the next day, there was a man stood to greet all of the players before they started. The man in charge of everything spoke a few sentences in English, and then he moved on to speaking more in Russian. YN had learnt a few simple phrases but not enough to understand what the man was saying. He did explain that the games would begin every day at ten o’clock, which she was happy about because it meant that she had time to wake up and prepare herself for the play before it begun. The man also explained that there would be a referee that stands at each table whilst they play to make sure that everything is running smoothly and that there are no irregularity within any of it.
After the brief introduction, the players were escorted into a room that had not only a large stage in the centre but an even larger area for audience members to sit in. A part of that did worry her slightly but not as much as would have a few months ago. She had started to become more and more used to the fact that the higher she went in these competitions, the higher the stakes were and the higher the popularity was to the point where there’s hundreds more audience members than there are players in the actual Championships.
In the middle of the stage there were four tables, each the size of a desk with new and clearly expensive boards and pieces set up on them. As well as the expensive board, there was a black chess clock and a jug of water with two glasses, one for each of them. The chairs themselves were padded, meaning they would probably be more comfortable to sit in for the long amount of time that these games usually went on for. By the time they all walked in, the referees were already stood by the tables, pristine black suits on their backs and a board behind them that already had the games set up.
She stood and waited for the director to say her name, and he did, it spilling it out of his lips and into the microphone for the entire room to hear. There was applause from everyone in the room, and she sort of felt dizzy from the warmth and happiness that it gave to her. She walked over to the table that she had been directed to and sat behind the black pieces with a smile upon her face. She felt like a celebrity, a chess celebrity at that, but one nonetheless. After she had sat down, the applause started again but this time for her first opponent, Volkov. YN knew that he was in his twenties, having been born to play chess like many of the Russian players are and had quite youthful features. What annoyed YN about him was that the second he sat down, he started drumming his fingers on the table. If he continued to do that she wouldn’t know whether or not she would be able to concentrate at the task at hand. There wasn’t a large question about it, though — she would have to be.
When the applause in the room stopped, and all of the other players, including Kuznestov, had been introduced, the director walked down the row of table and pushed the clocks. He did so with a stuck-up poise that YN wasn’t surprised to see. As he walked past their table, he placed his finger on the top of the button on YN’s side and pressed it, starting Volkov’s clock.
Volkov immediately started play by moving his king pawn to the fourth rank. YN didn’t hesitate in moving her queen bishop pawn, the feeling of butterflies bubbling within her stomach at just playing this type of chess, against another person of skill similar to hers. The board itself was unlike any she’d seen before, with heavy pieces with glossy finished and each of them sitting comfortable on their opaque squares. The bard had a matt finish to it, which contrasted the glossy one of the pieces. In her head, she wondered whether or not at some point she’d be able to get a board like this one. It was beautiful. She leant back in her chair and watched as Volkov played his king’s knight to bishop three. She played her queen’s knight and moved it to queen’s bishop three. Their play continued, with Volkov playing pawn to queen four, which she took with her pawn and setting it to the right of her clock. She could hear the referee behind them repeating their moves on the big board. She felt her shoulders seizing up and she made a mental note to remind herself to ask Harry to rub her shoulders when her gave finished.
She knew what Volkov’s style was from the games that she had played through with Harry, and she knew which Variation he would use to follow her certain moves because he had done it repeated times in different games. It made it easier for her because she knew that if he had prepared things before, it usually meant that they would prepare things for other games. As far as he could tell, his play was similar to Auch’s who she had played to win the European title, so she knew that it wouldn’t be too hard to beat him, even if it would take quite a while like it had done in the last game she played. She knew that she didn’t really have a name over here, because nobody in her own country had even heard of her until a few months ago and she knew that meant he would be expecting an easy win, but he wouldn’t get it, because she knew what she was doing and she knew that he was good at it.
She castled in response to his move, feeling comfortable in it knowing that it would help her in the long run from everything she’d learnt about his games. Their game started to gradually move from an opening without any errors to a middle game where the two of them had both without one king and one bishop and their kings protected and no downfalls that each could see in their games. By the seventeenth move they both had found themselves in equal positions on the board that could lead them both to danger. They were playing subtly, and certainly not in the way that she would normally play the game where she would attack early on.
Due to Volkov playing white, he did have an advantage and he did try to use that by offering threats that could have worked on a less skilled player, but didn’t really work on her. On the twenty-third move of the game she found an opportunity to open a file for her queen rook whilst forcing him to retreat a bishop as she did so. Volkov looked at it for a while, as though he was studying it in his head before retreating his bishop. She brought her rook over, and sighed knowing that it was starting to fall into place for her.
A few more moves later she found a way of increasing her chances, pushing a pawn to the fifth rank and offering it up as a sacrifice. He didn’t take the offering though, but was later forced to bring the knight it attacked back to the square in front of the queen. YN brought her rook to the third rank, and she knew that he would have to think to respond to it. He seemed to start to become more and more concerned as time moved on, whilst also trying to not look concerned at all that any of this was happening. His clock ticked and ticked as he carried on looking over the board. Maybe he hadn’t prepared for this game as much as she thought that he had, and now he was shocked that he could make a move like that. She continued to attack him, and he finally reached the point where she could safely post her remaining knight on queen five, where she couldn’t dislodge it. Two moves later she moved it there and brought her rook over to the knight file, directly where his king was. He again studied the board for a long time afterwards, and the frequent clicking of his clock and his fingers against the table rung around in her head. She wanted him to make his move for her own sanity. He did make the move that she had hoped, pushing his king bishop pawn up to attack the rook. When he pressed the button of her clock, his eyes didn’t lift up to look at her.
She picked up her bishop and took his pawn, offering a sacrifice. When she saw the referee move the piece on the big board, she couldn’t ignore the whispers that she heard from the spectators, obviously not expecting her to have made that move. Volkov couldn’t just ignore her bishop, and whilst he looked at it and he tapped his fingers along the table she knew that she had him exactly where she wanted him. He looked at the board for another twenty-three seconds exactly before he stood up and held out his hand to her. Grinning slightly, YN rose and took his hand. There wasn’t a single sound from the audience. What shocked her was the fact that the director of the whole thing walked over and also shook her head, as though it was a right of passage for her to leave. She did so with a smile, just to be nice but didn’t hesitate to walk away with a smile on her face and a relieved sigh leaving her lips.
Dinner that night was a fancy one that YN and Harry had been invited to by the English Embassy in Russia. Harry and herself walked into the lobby of the hotel, her arm in his and small smiles upon their faces. YN had returned after her game to be greeted by a loving kiss from Harry in the doorway of their hotel room and immediately made herself busy by getting ready for the meal they were about to go to. She had curled her hair and pinned a few pieces back so they weren’t in her face, added some light make-up to her skin and dressed in one of the prettiest dresses she had ever laid her eyes on. The dress itself was a velvet material, royal blue in colour and with a plunging neckline that gave ample cleavage to anyone who dared to look — mainly Harry — and the sleeves came to her elbow with two scrunches and then a flare at the end. She loved how the material looked upon her body, she couldn’t help it. It was gorgeous. Harry was wearing a black suit, with a lace shirt tucked into his trousers. As a pair, the two of them looked unstoppable and she wouldn’t be surprised if people felt a little intimidated by them. She would if she saw them.
“Do you have any idea who we’re meeting?” Harry asked as they stood by the entrance to the restaurant, his eyes looking around all of the people there just to see if he had any incline by looks to who they were supposed to be having a meal with.
“All I know are names.” She shrugged, moving a piece of his hair off of his forehead as they waited for the slight queue in front of them to go down, “Patricia Taylor, Nathaniel Baker and Reece William.”
He raises his eyebrow, “They sound like a treat.”��
She thwacks him on the arm and shakes her head, “We haven’t even met them yet. We can’t be making any judgements yet.”
“I’m not judging. . .” He shakes his head, “I’m just. . . stating the obvious.”
“Yeah.” She tilts her head, “We can leave that for another time.”
The waiter who stands at the door asks them for their name, and the reservation and in sort of broken Russian and English that the man can just pick up on, they find themselves making their way over to a table that three people are already sat at. They aren’t late, because YN made sure of it, so she guesses that they’re just really early. It’s the easiest explanation of why they’re already there. The waiter himself didn’t look a day over sixteen, and he asked them for their drink order the second they sat down. Harry ordered something that she didn’t quite pick up on and YN ordered a lime and lemon, just lime cordial and lemonade — not wanting to get herself into a position that she would regret and not be able to get herself out of.
“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, YN.” One of the men who had introduced himself as Nathanial spoke, “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
She smiles, “Good things I hope.”
“Good things. . . yeah.”
All of a sudden small baskets of bread and little dishes of butter and what looks like caviar and sour cream are placed down on the table. She looks at them for a moment, and then looks at Harry and he has a slight grin on his face. She watches as the other people at the table tuck in to everything to offer, whilst YN just butters herself one slice of bread and takes a few bites out of it. It wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry, because she was starving if she was completely honest, it was more so that there were still nerves bubbling in the pit of her stomach about this whole ordeal that made it so she wasn’t quite ready to start tucking in just yet.
The men and woman looked very put together, and they were able to mutter things in Russian that the two of them didn’t understand. They often shared glances that let the two of them know that they’re okay, and also that they both feel more uncomfortable here than they every had within anything to do with chess. The waiter reappears with their drinks upon a tray, as well as a pitcher of a clear liquid and a few small glasses.
“Vodka?”
“Nyet.”
The whole thing was a little off putting to her, and the way that Harry’s fingers messed with hers on his lap. YN couldn’t understand the point of inviting the two of them for a meal to then ignore them and speak in a language that neither one could understand. It was boring and just outright rude, but she wasn’t going to say that to them. She wasn’t rude, and she certainly wasn’t going to stoop down to their level just to get some conversation out of them.
“YN.” They finally spoke to them, and YN didn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed still. It was Patricia who had spoken to her, “How long have you and Harry been together?”
YN tried not to roll her eyes, and slipped her fingers through Harry’s, “Uhh. . . a few months or so.”
“Oh?” She raises her eyebrow, “Not that long, then?”
“No.” YN shakes her head, “But we’ve been friends for quite a while now, opponents beforehand.”
“When did that change?” YN really couldn’t understand why this woman was interested in their love life so much, “I mean, I thought opponents were supposed to stay opponents.”
“They are.” Harry says, “And we were, we were just friends and then something more whilst we did it.”
The dinner continued to be a bore, and she focused on the food that she was eating and the company of the man next to her rather than anything else around her. She knew that this was necessary and the ECA had asked her to go to the meal and she wasn’t going to say no to the people who have paid her a hefty sum of money over the past year. She did learn after the meal, when she and Harry were making their way back, that Kuznestov had won his game and the other players had drawn. She’d learnt that her opponent tomorrow would be Nikolaev, which she wouldn’t say that she was worried about but she would certainly say that she had to get some sleep and make sure that she was fully prepared for what she was about to play tomorrow. It was certainly going to be an experience to say the least.
She entered the stage the exact same way that she had the day prior, and there was a larger cheer when she walked across the stage when she moved this time. That was surprising to her, maybe people were starting to learn who she was or Harry’s voice had just gotten louder and louder over the last twenty-four hours. She was playing white against Nikolaev, and a part of was thankful that was the case, but it also wasn’t the case because she knew that she’d be able to win him even if she played black.
On the eleventh move Nikolaev made an error in his judgement, and she made no hesitation to pounce on it, pinning his knight in front of a rook. It would keep him there for a moment whilst she figured out a way to get out her other bishop. From studying his games with Harry, she knew that he was cautious and strings in the defense movements he made, and that was why in a spur of the moment thing she decided to wait until she had the chance to overwhelm him. By the sixteenth move she had both of her bishops on his king, and on the twentieth she had both of the diagonals open. At the start he hid from it, using his knights to hold her off but she brought out her queen and he knew then that there was no way back for him.
By the twenty-second move he was trying to ward her off but he just couldn’t and by the twenty-fifth he had resigned. The game wasn’t even over an hour long. Everyone else was still playing and she had finished, and words couldn’t explain how good it felt to know that. She walked away from the table, past Kuznestov’s table and saw that he was still playing. Her face broke out into a smile as she walked, feeling so proud of herself that she actually had a skip in her step as she moved.
Harry met her outside of the stage with a kiss on her lips, and she couldn’t help but smile into it. They ate a sandwich for their lunch, and then decided to take a walk outside of the hotel. They walked down a boulevard and then down a narrow street towards a park. There was a bit of traffic on the road but nothing that they couldn’t manoeuvre if they weren’t ever so careful about it. There were large groups of pedestrians on the pavements, but none of them said anything and only a few offered them a small smile. The sun was shining on the day, even though it was quite cold outside and the two of them stayed pressed up against each other but it was beautiful.
The park they found themselves in was nestled between the enormous buildings around them. There were benches that people were sat on, and a few of them stared as they walked past. She didn’t focus on it too much, but a part of her couldn’t help but doing so. They soon found themselves in a square surrounded by trees and flowers and everything that made a lovely park. What surprised her more than anything, were the people seated on the paths playing chess of all things. YN looked to Harry and he held the same exact shocked look on his face that she had.
The men that were playing were mainly old, and from the looks of what she could see they played very old school chess but YN really didn’t mind, just seeing all these people who could be doing anything they wanted but they weren’t and instead they were playing chess made her tummy flutter with excitement. They walked past the tables slowly, just so that she could look at some of the positions that they were in whilst she did so. There were a few that she recognised from some of the books that she learnt to play from, and others from games that she played. They didn’t have clocks, and it seemed as though they were truly just playing the game for the fun of playing chess — something that could often be lost when she played the games for the stakes that she did.
“I can’t believe it.” Harry muttered, shaking his head in shock as he looked at her, “They’re playing chess.”
“I know.” She grinned, “I knew it was big over here but I didn’t know that they just played in parks, just like this.”
“I almost makes it seem fun.” He chuckles.
She nudges his shoulder with hers, “Don’t be like that. It is fun. You’ll find that again, I promise you.”
“I always thought that I’d be like this when I was younger.” He explains, their hands swinging between them, “That I’d play chess all of my life and then when I was old just play it because I loved it. Not for the money, not for the publicity it gets. Just because I love it.”
“That can still happen.” She squeezes his hand, “I swear to you Harry, we can make that a reality.”
“Chess helped me through some of the hardest times in my life, because even though it was the root of many of them, it was also the thing that helped me through it.” He explains, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I want to do something. I don’t know what exactly it is yet, but something that can use Chess to help people, and young people for that matter, who need it by focusing their mind on something else.”
After a few seconds YN smiles, “I think it’s a wonderful idea, Harry.”
“You do?” His whole face lights up.
“I do.” She nods her head, “People need something like that, and who better than you to help them with that.”
“Who better than us.” He says with a smile, “Us. It won’t just be me, YN. It’ll be both of us.”
“Us, then.” She grins and he quickly pecks her lips.
The games that she had next were with Solovyov and Titov. Both of them were gruelling and exhausting and by the end of them YN didn’t know how she could keep her eyes open, but she never found herself falling into a position where she could loose her winning streak, and for that she was thankful. The work that she had done with Harry over the past few months gave her strength in her already strong opening moves, and she even managed to maintain them throughout the middle games and until the point where both of them had no other optimum but to resign.
Solovyov resigned with dignity, and gracefully shook her hand and did everything that someone who has been playing chess a long time does when they realise that they can’t get themselves out of whatever mess they’re in. Titov didn’t take it as well and he didn’t say anything to her, and he didn’t even shake her hand. She was used to it, so that from him didn’t make any change to what she felt about him. She had to play seven games in all, and she had known this from the first day but it didn’t make it any less daunting the more that she thought about it. She knew that on the last day she would be playing white against Kuznestov, and she knew that was what she needed to do was play the games well so that she would make it to that game relatively unfazed.
She wasn’t playing Kuznestov today though, she was playing black against Golubev. He was the oldest player there, and YN remembers playing her game when she was little. He had won the World Championships years before she was born, and now here he was. He was an icon in the chess world and a part of her felt lucky to say that she was going to sit across from him and play his games. He was an amazing player and even better man, and she knew that she would have to be ever so careful whilst she was playing him. She would be though, because she always was when things were at stake.
They were playing at the first table today, the one that Kuznestov had played all of his previous games at during this Championship and a part of her was excited by that. Golubev bowed when he walked over and then took his seat. He was wearing a maroon suit that looked highly expensive, but she knew that if anybody could afford to buy a suit like that it would be him — he was loaded. YN’s long forest-green skirt and black turtle neck looked like nothing compared to it, and a part of her genuinely thought that she had looked amazing when she walked out of the hotel room earlier. Harry certainly complemented it.
He was ready to attack by the eleventh move, subtly but YN noticed it. He moved his pawn to queen rook three. Thirty-five minutes later he had a heavy pawn defense on the queenside and she had to delay what she was planning to do so that she could deal with it. She had to study the board, and a part of her certainly wasn’t happy that he had made that move but she knew that it had to be done. She lifted her eyes upon to look at him, and he was smiling. It was almost as though he was happy with what he was doing.
He continued to advance his knights pawn as if to ignore where she was with her knight. A part of her couldn’t understand it, and she couldn’t figure out what he was doing. She had to find a way out of the trap that she found herself in, because if she didn’t then she would have to take the rook pawn with her knight and four moves down he would be able to attack her queenside and pick off her queen rook in exchange for it. It wasn’t an exchange that she would be happy with if in a few moves he would be able to do it.
She leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table, her cheeks resting against her clenched fists. She knew that she could work this out if she tried hard enough. She could hear the clicking of the clock getting louder and louder as she continued to study, flicking through every combination of move that she could see until there was nothing. She had to give the exchange and get his rook pawn as consolidation. It meant he would still be attacking her queenside, and she wasn’t too fond of that. She was too stupid to have seen it actually coming and she hated it.
YN pushed up her queen rook pawn and watched the moves play out. He took the rook for his bishop some moves later and she couldn’t help but have a little bit of her die inside when she saw it happening. She knew that it would have to in her head but seeing it was a completely different thing. She took the rook pawn two moves later, but it offered her very little help for everything else that she was doing. She had fallen behind, and she didn’t really know what else to do.
Stopping his advance of pawns on the queenside was enough for her to want to rip her own hair out. She had to return the pawn she had taken from him, and he was doubling his rooks on the king file. There was no way that he was going to let up. She made a threat towards his king to cover up the fact that she was trying to trade his rook for her remaining one. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to ride whilst she was down but she had no option but do so. She had to.
By the middle game they were both entrenched with every piece supported at least once and a few of them twice. She tried her hardest to avoid trades so that she could find a wedge that could bring her back even but he countered everything that she attempted. The intervals between each moves were long, and there was an opportunity down the line that she wouldn’t be able to bring herself back. She knew that she would have to at some point.
A few moves later he had brought his rook to the third rank and put it above his castled king, limiting its movement to to three squares. If she found a way to trap it before he lifted the knight, it would put her in a stronger position than the one that she was in. Flicking through the play in her hair, she couldn’t find anything that would be able to help them and she wasn’t happy about that. She felt dizzy and she pulled her elbows off the table and leant back so that she could look at her clock. She had less than fifteen minutes. She had to make her move quickly or there was no way that she’d be able to recover from it. She moved her knight to knight five, a strong move but one that didn’t really help her in any way. His reply was as expected and it forced her to bring the knight back to king four where she had wanted to put it in the first place. She didn’t have much time left on her clock and she made sure to study the board in the time that she had left. He moved the rook move that she had known he would and she made her move. He advanced his pawn just as YN had expected.
From finding that move in such a short amount of time, a part of her was thankful that she had done it because it gave her the hope that she might be able to recover the game in front of her. She needed to do so to win. Golubev was ahead, and the two of them knew that but he had a rook that she had to contend with and she could use it against him. If she could bring it off, she could exchange a bishop for it and even the score. She started to work quickly on that. It was difficult and long but he seemed to be ready for it, obviously having studied it ob the board himself. She pulled the bishop away from the diagonal his rook was on and hoped that he wouldn't see what she was planning. It would look as though she was attacking his pawn formation, forcing him to weakly advance. She wasn’t even a little bit concerned with his pawn positions, all she could think about was getting the rook off of the board.
Golubev pushed up his pawn. In her head she knew that he should’ve thought about it longer, but he didn’t. He made the mistake and moved the pawn. She felt an excitement in her stomach that she hadn’t felt at all during this game, She took the knight off of the diagonal and put it on queen bishop five, offering it to this queen. If he took that move she would be able to take the rook with her bishop. He hadn’t even noticed that in the mist of all of this, making the move he wanted meant that she would get his knight in return for the queen move. She felt unstoppable. She looked up at him with a smile upon her face.
He looked over the board for half an hour and found nothing. He then took the knight, and she was finally able to take the rook. He took her bishop and she checked him. The game was even know, and they both knew that there wasn’t going to be a lot left of the game anymore. There wasn’t a clear reason for him to resign, and his queenside pawns were evenly placed, but she attacked them and his remaining bishop, forcing him to bring up his queen to hold onto his pawns together. She knew that she would have him, and she now had to focus her attention completely on his king.
She had twenty-seven minutes left on her clock and Golubev almost had an hour but she wasn’t going to let that effect her. She brought her rook pawn up to the fourth rank, announcing her intentions and he had no option but to move. She worked out each variation of moves he may make trying to find an answer to them, and she finally did when he made his move of bringing his queen to protect. She ignored the chance to grab one of his pawns and advanced her rook pawn one more square. It was an amazing move, and she certainly knew it and it was almost as though he knew it as well.
He looked over the board fora few more minutes, as though he was contemplating what he was going to do. Then, he lifted his eyes up to her, looked at the board briefly again and then smiled.
“That was amazing.” The words came out of his lips in a thick Russian accent that she certainly should’ve expected but it still shocked her, “I’ve never seen someone recover from something like that so well before.”
YN can’t help but smile at his words, agreeing with him and starting to feel more proud of herself. She watches as he reached forward and grasped the the top of his king and tilted it over to its side.
“I resign.”
They shook hands, and YN’s never seen it happen so warmly from someone before that wasn’t Harry, “I’ve always played your games. I learnt chess playing your games.”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head, “You’ll only make me feel old.”
“I don’t mean to.” She smiles.
“It doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head, “You’re a marvel, dear. Don’t ever forget that.”
When she had walked into the hotel lobby, she felt arms wrap around her waist and spin her around. She couldn’t help the squeal that left her lips as he did so, and she noticed the watchful eyes of other people in the lobby once the culprit had put her down. She wasn’t surprised that it was Harry.
“I’m so proud of you.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, “So proud.”
She turns two him with furrowed eyebrows, “Did you not think I could win it, or something?”
“Of course I thought you could win.” He brushes it off but she raises one of her eyebrows, “Okay maybe I was a bit nervous when I woke up this morning, and when you were loosing — but you brought it back!”
“I know I did.” She tuts, “At least I believed in myself.”
“I always believed in you, YN.” He shook his head, “I was just a little. . . nervous.”
“You don’t need to be nervous about that game.” She says, slipping her hand into his, “You need to be nervous about Kuznestov because I certainly am.”
“Nah.” He shakes his head and lifts the back of his hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to it, “We don’t need to be. You’ll be fine.”
“How are you so sure?” She asks.
“I just know.”
When they walked back up to the room, YN immediately drew herself a bath to relax her muscles. Harry ordered some food and he sat and ate what he ordered. He did ask to join but she decided against it saying that she needed the time to relax and she understood. The fact that in a few days she would be playing Kuznestov laid heavy on her chest, and no matter how many times she tried to knock the idea out of her head, she just couldn’t seem to do it. She wasn’t too worried, but there was a part of her that knew that it could any which way and it was just a case of her knowing what to do.
She walked out of the bathroom half an hour later with just her towel wrapped around her, and smiled at the sight of Harry sat on the bed with a book in his hands. It was one of the books that she had given him from her grandfather’s collection, and she couldn’t be happier that the book came to a person that would enjoy it. He looked up at her over the book and raised his eyebrows, and she raised hers back. She walked over to her suitcase and started to shift through the clothes that she had in it, trying to decide what she wanted to put on so that she could sit and go through some games.
She’s about to do that when she hears a loud groan coming from the man behind her.
“What?” She flips around to look at him, and the book was now abandoned on his chest, “What is it?”
“You can’t walk out here like that and then put on clothes.”
“Oh, really?” She asks, “Is my lack of clothes sparking the teenage boy in you again?
“It is.” He pouts, opening his arms for her, “I can’t help it.”
“Well.” She sighs, “I better do something about it then shouldn’t I?”
She climbs onto the bed and straddles his hips, her hands slipping underneath the material of his shirt and onto his stomach. She can feel it tensing and relaxing beneath her. He grins up at her.
“You should.”
And she does. She leans forward and kisses him, her hands gripping his waist as she did so. She would never, ever get board of kissing him no matter how many times they did. He kissed her back almost instantly, not even an ounce of hesitation on him. He made sure that the kiss wasn’t quick like she had intended it to be, and she draws it out. He coaxed her lips further apart, being able to slide his tongue into her mouth. It’s so familiar, and so comfortable that it was like almost second nature to them. What was just a nice kiss between the two of them soon turned into an urgent and messy kiss.
“Fucking addictive.” He mumbles as he pulls away, “Could never get enough of you.”
The two of them are panting against each other, and she moves her hands up to his hair so that she can grip it slightly, “I never want you too.”
She slips her hands down to grip the collar of his shirt, placing her lips back on his. The only sound either one of them could hear was their laboured breathing. They often had to pull away slightly to catch their breath, but it didn’t stop him from dragging his nails down her back, pushing the towel that she had around her down so that she was exposed to him. His hands rested upon her hips and squeezed the flesh, just like he always did and just like she wanted him to do. They never pulled away. They stayed there, with their lips against each others and their hands all over each other.
“Are you sure you can be doing this?” He says against her lips.
“What do you mean?”
“Shouldn’t you be studying?” He asks.
“It can wait.”
Her lips are back against his and she’s moaning into his mouth when his hands fall to her arse, squeezing the flesh. He buried one of his hands in her hair and tilted her head, allowing him to kiss into her mouth again. A smile crossed her lips as he did so. He fumbles with the towel on her body and pulls it off, throwing it a direction that she doesn’t know. He thrusted his hips upwards towards her, and she could feel how hard he was against her.
“Fucking hell.” He moaned into her mouth, “You’re soaking me.”
It was impossible not to moan against his lips, but it was cut short when Harry flipped them over so that she was laid on the bed and he was hovering above her. There was something to her about being with him like that made her feel as though her entire body was on fire, and it was only ever put out when he touched her which he was doing, and she wouldn’t tell him stop when he was making her feel the way that he was. He started to kiss her again, this time moving them down from her lips to her neck and then down to her chest.
She closed her eyes when she felt him press his tongue over her nipple, circling it with her tongue. She arched her back off of the bed, feeling the need and the want for more and more from him. He knew exactly the right spots to make her toes curl and have her withering beneath him, just like he was now. He continued to move his tongue over her nipple, and she gripped his hair in encouragement.
“I fucking love you.” He places his hand upon the outside of her thigh, “No two ways about it.”
She grips down on her bottom lip to stop anymore sounds from escaping her lips, even though she knew that probably wasn’t what Harry wanted, but YN couldn’t help herself. She started to rock her hips up to him, letting him know that she was ready for him, He needed to know that she was ready for him.
“That’s good.” She grinned, “Because I love you too.”
He pecked her nipple again, wrapping his lips around it briefly before he started to kiss lower and lower down her stomach, closer and closer to the place where she was absolutely dripping for him.
“What do you want, baby?” He muttered against her stomach, wanting nothing more than to do everything under the sun but he knew that he had to be patient, “Tell me. I want you to say it.”
Her breath is shaky, and she doesn’t know how she’s managing to keep herself together but somehow she is, “I want you to fuck me.”
“How?”
“On top.” She lifted his hips off the bed, “I want you on top.”
“Your wish is my command.”
She watched as he unzipped his trousers, the sound of his belt sending her heart beating in her chest quickly. He takes his trousers off as well as his boxers, taking his time to truly tease her. YN bites her lip as she watches him pull his shirt over his head, revealing not only his tattoos but the train of hair that leads down to between his legs. She couldn’t stop the small giggle that escapes her lips.
“What are you giggling at?”
“Nothing. . .” She shakes her head, “Nothing!”
“Yeah.” He kneels back on the bed, “We’ll see if you’ll be laughing in a minute.”
Harry leaned over her, his face hovering above hers as he looked down between them. She could feel him on her thigh, and her inside started twist. She watches as he slips his hand down the front of him and grips his cock in his hand, bringing it to her entrance. He back arched up off the bed again, and she moaned into his mouth as he kissed her again. He started moving himself in, slowly to start with and then more so so as time went on.
“Fucking, shit.” He muttered the words through his teeth, trying to mask the moan that would escape if he didn’t keep them clamped shut.
YN couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips, wrapping her arm around his shoulders so that she could have something to grip on to. She lifted her knee slightly so that she could spread her legs and give him better access. When she moaned, Harry couldn’t help but pick up the pace of his hips, moving them in and out for her.
“Keep going.” She moaned into his ear, her eyes clamped closed, “Go faster.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She chuckled slightly, squeezing his shoulders as she could feel her stomach tightening with every move that he made. She was addicted to it. More so than anything else in her life. She continued to focus on her climax, his hands resting on the pillows by her bed. The sound of their heavy breathing was now masked with the sound of their flesh against each other, and the occasional moan or groan that escaped their lips.
As much as they would love to be slow and sweet with each other, they just aren’t physically able to. They couldn’t stop themselves from being hard and quick with each other, but it made them the way that they were together. For the amount of time they were with each other, they focus on one and another and making themselves feel like the best in the world. It was just how it was with them. Harry’s grip on her skin tightened and the loud moan that escapes her lips as she’s pushed closer and closer to her orgasm.
“Feel so good, YN.” He mumbled against her lips, “The fucking best.”
YN arched her back again, her chest colliding with his and he continued to moved with each other, in one rhythm and with the feeling of bliss washing over both of their bodies. She couldn’t understand how being like this with someone could melt away everything else that she had to worry about until it was nothing. Her grip on his shoulders tightened more and more and she could feel her insides twisting, as he thrust himself forward and back. She moved her thighs so that they were behind him, helping to thrust his hips forward to her. She could feel her orgasm coming on and she clamped her teeth on her bottom lip, not wanting to be too loud because she knew that there are other people in the hotel and she didn’t want to be too noisy.
“Be loud.” Harry seemed to know everything that she was thinking and a part of her hated that, “Let them hear.”
“Are you sure?” She mumbled, her eyebrows furrowing,
“I’m positive.” He kisses her cheek, “Come, baby.”
YN dug her nails into the flesh of his back as she came, it overruling her body quicker than she could’ve caught up with. His name escapes her lips in a string of moans, and she physically can’t control how loud she is because of how it feels. Harry came not long after her, spilling into her. She watches his face, unable to bring her eyes away from him, and the small furrow between his brow. Their chests were heaving up and down from how mind-blowing its was, and she never wanted it to stop.
“I love you.” She runs her fingers through his hair, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” He grins, pushing her hair off her face. His becomes quite serious all of a sudden, “I hope you know that you’re going to win this thing.”
“We don’t know that Harry.” She smiles, “We just hope.”
“Then I’m hoping a whole lot.”
A few days later she found herself walking onto the stage about to play against Kuznestov, somebody who she used to read to prepare for her games. It truly felt insane to her that she’s sat across from someone who she used to learn about in order to plat in tournaments well and now she was here trying to win his title. She hoped that he wasn’t too annoyed with her.
She was playing white, which certainly gave her a nice advantage. She would have to hang on to that advantage if it was the last thing that she did. She would play the Queen’s Gambit, because playing the Sicilian against him just didn’t seem like the best option. Her best option was to try and get him to make a mistake, it was all that she could hope for. There was an applause from the audience as they both walked out, and she knew that it was going to be now or never. This was it. She had played through all of these tournaments, practiced for hours upon hours and all she had to do was make sure that she didn’t mess up and that she won. It was certainly going to be easier said then done.
The referee pushed the button, and her clock started. YN moved her pawn to queen four and looked down at the pieces. She wouldn’t look at his face, not yet. He moved his pawn to queen four, and she responded by playing pawn to queen bishop four, offering it as a gambit, but he declined, moving his pawn to king four. She took the pawn, and he played pawn to queen five. He looked up at his face and it was completely calm, as though he wasn’t nervous and nothing at all was worrying him. She hoped that she could feel like that at some point but she knew that would be a long way away. She continued by playing her king’s knight and he played his queen’s and the play continued.
The seventh move he played surprised her more than she had expected it to, and it was obviously something that he had thought to spring on her. She responded and was glad to get him out in the open, it would make it easy for their dance. By the fifteenth move they had equality, and he maybe had an edge. She knew that if she was to win she would have to continue developing her pieces, opening files when she had the opportunity of physically anything that she could do that would give her the edge that she needed. If she let his rook out, it would tear her apart. If he allowed her queen to move to the bishop file his king’s protection would topple. She wouldn’t let his bishop to check. He didn’t look at her the entire time that he was looking over the board, and then he moved his knight to bishop five. If she could have chosen a move for him to make, it would’ve have been that move. She pushed her rook pawn a square forward.
The next few months ran swimmingly but before she knew it he brought his remaining rook to the centre and she felt her stomach sink. She hadn’t thought of this when she moved through all of the movements in her head that he could make. It was almost as though she was back to square one again. She took her eyes away from the board briefly so that she could figure out how to do something about the rook. It was staring at her in the face and she knew that at some point she would have to do something. It sat on a black square and her bishop would be gone. Three moves of her knight would get her near enough but it was too long. She couldn’t use a pawn and she couldn’t use her own rook because it was in its corner, not having been moved. Her only option was her queen, and she’d have to find a safe way to move it because it truly was her only option.
She leant her cheeks against her fists and looked all over the board. She could move it nine squares in one direction, three in another. Each one looked weak, so she started to examine all of the in-between squares, finally falling upon king knight five. If the queen was there it meant he could swing his room under and occupy the file. She couldn’t do that. No check was possible without her bishop but after that she could attack the queen with her knight. He would have to put it on one of the black squares, and that would start something. She could drive the queen into a king-queen fork with the knight. He would ate her queen afterwards but she would still be down a bishop. She would be able to take his bishop with her knight and it would be equal again, and then she could threaten the rook.
She moved the queen. He brought his rook under it and with no hesitation did she pick up her bishop and bring it out to check. She was waiting for his queen to take it. She didn’t know whether she had missed something by the way he looked at the board, but she certainly knew that she hadn’t when he muttered the word, “Draw?”
She looked down at the board for a second and contemplated the word in her mind. Taking the draw would meant that she would be a co-champion again, and that wasn’t really what she was looking for. She was looking to win the entire thing, and she knew that she could do it, especially now that he was so scared to even continue to the point where he had asked her those words.
“No.” She shrugged, “Sorry.”
He himself shrugged and took the bishop. She attacked his queen wither her knight and he moved it where he had to and brought the knight up. He moved the king and she lifted his queen up from the board. He took hers also. She attacked the rook and moved it back a square. That was the whole point of the sequence and now that she had done it she was unsure what to do next. She knew that every move that she had to make needed to be strategic. There wasn’t the opportunity to not be strategic with it. She needed to win.
Unlike all of the other games she played, she couldn’t hear the ticking of her clock. She silently looked over the board and looked at what she could do. If this carried on how it was going, it would be mate in nineteen or so moves. She reached forward and moved her king pawn to the fifth rank. Kuznestov advanced his king to stop the pawn and she advanced her knight forcing him to protect. She moved the pieces with a new found speed, but his started to slower. When she had finished threatening, she moved a pawn to a sixth rank. His expression didn’t change and hers didn’t either.
When she advanced the pawn to the seventh rank, he grunted. He let out an actual, physical grunt and she didn’t know what to do about it. He took his time to move his knight to block it. She didn’t look at him when she picked up the knight and set it down, because she knew that was it. The moment he let out another grunt her heart started to beat quicker and quicker within her chest.
“You’ve done it.” In one movement, his king was on its side.
The applause was almost deafening, and she knew that the majority of it would have probably been Harry. They were standing and clapping for her. They were making that sound for her. YN genuinely couldn’t believe that she had won, and in a time that she couldn’t help but be proud of. She had won.
She was the World Chess Champion.
All of the time that she and Harry had spent preparing, every little second of it was so they could make it to this moment — to the moment where she won. She couldn’t have done this without him, and she hopes that he knows that. She stands up with a smile and turns around, immediately spotting him on the front row. She can’t help it when her feet drift towards him. He smiles and opens his arms so that he can catch her body as she basically plummets it at him. She chuckles into her ear and lifts her up slightly, before pulling her away so that he could press a kiss to her lips. It was a kiss that celebrated so many things, but more importantly it celebrated them. The two of them together and what they have achieved.
“I did it.” She grins once she pulls away.
“I always knew that you would.” He places her back down again, “I never doubted you, not even for a second.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.” She grins, with a roll of her eyes.
“I didn’t!” She exclaims, “Well, not a lot.”
“I don’t care, Harry.” She wraps her arms around his neck, “I knew that it was going to be hard and I’m absolutely certain that I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”
“You would.” He shakes his head, “You have the talent for it, I just helped you bring it out.”
“You helped me in more ways than that.”
“Oh yeah?” He raises one of his eyebrows, “Care to explain.”
“Another time.” He chuckles.
She pulls away and looks at him, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, “Can I say something, and it might be a little cheesy?”
“Of course you can.” He smiles.
“I really do love you so much, I feel like I’ve won more than just a Championship because I’ve won you. You’re the check to my mate.”
He grins, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, “We’re checkmate, baby, I’ve always know that.”
One Year Later
A year ago today YN was in Russia, winning the World Championship as the younger ever contestant there. When she had won, she hadn’t thought of anything other than the fact that she had, and she certainly didn’t think of everything that was going to follow. She was plummeted into a year of interviews, and photoshoots and recognition that she didn’t know what to do with. Everyone knew about her, and it wasn’t just the chess players of the world anymore, it was everyone.
It did start off with the interviews being in the chess world, which she had expected, but then the entire country seemed to realise who she was and she was asked to do interviews on national television and in magazines that everyone would read and not just people that knew about chess. That did cause nerves to bubble within her, but everyone was lovely (for the majority) and there wasn’t anything for her to be nervous about. She loved reading about how many people were now playing chess because of her, women and men to the point where she couldn’t understand how herself just being herself caused them to want to play the very game that they did. It was baffling to her.
As well as all of the chess in her life changing drastically, everything else about her life changed drastically also. She moved in with Harry, which wasn’t too much of a shock to everyone who knew but it certainly started to make everything more real between the two of them. Her things weren’t in a suitcase anymore, or in boxes, but they were laid out. She had space in the bathroom cupboard, she had her own wardrobe space and her little knickknacks that she wouldn’t let go of now were dotted around his house. The most drastic change certainly had to be the fact that they now had a bath that they had installed because it made it theirs.
Words really couldn’t describe how much she loved that man.
Over the past year or so, the best thing that had happened to them was their Chess School. They originally spoke about it on their trip to Russia, and the second they made it home they started to plan it and look at places that they could buy. Harry had enough savings, and from the money that YN had made from the championships and the appearances she was making, they were able to gather enough money to put their deposit down on a building that the rented. It wasn’t huge, and it only had two rooms but they promised each other that when they made a little more money they would buy some place bigger and better for them to turn into a proper school.
The building itself looked a little out of place on the street it was on, and there were only two rooms in the entire thing — one that was the classroom and the other that YN had lovingly dubbed: ‘the safe hub away from children.’ YN did like children, she wouldn’t have started the school if she didn’t, but she wasn’t a very patient person and to teach loads of young children how to play chess wasn’t exactly in her agenda. YN knew that she was better with the older kids and that’s why she found herself being more comfortable teaching them than teaching the youngest kids that they have in their midst.
Today was a little different than any other day, though, just because of what it was commemorating. Instead of getting and ready and going to the Chess School, YN found herself having to go to the ECA for an interview to commemorate the last year and let her ‘fans’ know what she had been up to. She found all of it a little off putting, and she doesn’t know how many times she’s going to be able to carry on sitting through interviews where they care more about what she’s doing with Harry than their chess. All in all, it had been quite the long day and she wanted nothing more than to return home, snuggle up on the sofa with Harry and eat her annoyance away with Chinese food.
When she did return home though, and she called out Harry’s name into the house, she didn’t receive any response, which did confuse her. The school was open, but Harry usually closed up when it was just him at four so he had time to get home and make sure that he was home for your arrival back. That’s why YN was quite surprised when she walked through the door of the house and saw no lights on and no Harry anywhere. However, when she walked into the kitchen she did find a note, one that was folded and her name scribbled on in Harry’s very particular handwriting.
Opening it, she couldn’t help the smile at the writing that was scribbled inside:
Come to the school. I’m waiting for you. I love you. H.
YN wasted no time in getting herself to the school, maybe going a little bit over the speed limit but that didn’t really matter. When it came to things like this all of the patience that she has evaporates and she’s left wishing that someone would just tell her what was happening so that she wouldn’t to conspire any more.
From the outside, the school looked as though it was locked, and that nobody was going in and nobody was going out but when she walked up to the front door, she realised that the door was open but there still weren’t any lights on inside.
“Harry?” The door shut behind her and she could feel her heart starting to beat faster than it already was in her chest, “Are you there? If you’re planning on jump scaring me I won’t be happy.”
“In here!”
YN instantly feels herself relax at the sound of his voice, and her feet carry her quickly in the direction that it had come from. He was in the main room, she could see that now. The entire room was lit up with what felt like to be hundreds of candles all around a lot of chess boards, she couldn’t even count how many there actually was. YN found herself raising her eyebrow at him, throwing him a quizzical look.
“What’s all of this?” She asks, taking a step forward.
He was dressed in a suit, a beige one with a thinly striped shirt and a dotted tie, one that she had definitely seen before but she couldn’t quite pinpoint where.
“I have a question to ask you.”
She furrows her eyebrows at him, “Could you not have asked me it at home?”
“No.” He shakes his head, a small smile dancing over his lips.
“Well.” She takes another step forward, “What is it?”
“Why don’t you look for yourself?”
His hand motions to the boards set up in front of him, all in a row and all with a very special message on them. She moves forward so that she can look over all of them individually. She can feel the tears starting to well up in her eyes, the feeling becoming almost overwhelming and she knows that at some point if she isn’t careful a sob could leave her lips and make this situation a whole lot more embarrassing that it was.
The first four boards had the letters: W, I, L and L written on them. Will.
The next three boards had the letters: Y, O, and U written on them. You.
The next five boards had the letters: M, A, R, R and Y written on them. Marry.
The last two boards had the letters; M and E written on them. Me.
Every breath that YN takes she feels as though the whole world is slowing around her, and all she can think about is the letters she’s looking at, all made using chess pieces, the thing that they love the most apart from each other, asking her a question that she never, ever in her life thought that she’d ever hear.
A part of it was that she didn’t think she deserved to have a love that she would call everlasting, the love that means a person wanted nothing more than to marry her. She never thought that she’d get that. YN did see love like that when she was growing up with her grandparents, and a part of her like any child would thought that maybe one day she’d get to love someone like that but she never thought that somebody would love her in that way. Of course it had crossed her mind whilst she was with Harry the subject of marriage but because he never mentioned it to her, she automatically just thought that he didn’t want to marry her and she was okay with that. She had to be okay with that because that was what she thought.
It turned out that she was really, really wrong and that really wasn’t the case.
Her eyes floated up from the board to where she thought Harry would be stood but he wasn’t, he was down on one knee in front of her with a box open in his hand. A tear run downs her cheek, and she swears that it was a happy tear, she promises that it was.
“YN.” She nods her head a few times, moving fast so that she fears that she might give herself whiplash, “I know that we haven’t been together for the longest time, and I know that the start of our relationship wasn’t the most conventional but it was ours and we had that.” He hesitates for a second to let out a long sigh, “I know that you love me, and you know that I love you more than anything in this world. I know we haven’t spoken about marriage before and I’m now really hoping that you aren’t against marriage because if you are I’ll look like a right twat—”
“Harry.” She interrupts and he hums, “Breathe.”
He lets out a deep breath before continuing, “I know that I’m not the best with words the majority of the time and that’s probably why I haven’t asked you this before, or about this before but. . . YN YLN, will you marry me?”
She doesn’t even hesitate, and she’s nodding her head again and muttering, “Yes!” over and over again.
To YN it doesn’t seem real, certainly not true that he’s saying this to her and asking her this question but as he walks over and slips the ring onto her finger and she looks down at it, she knows that it is. It is real, and Harry had just asked her to marry him. To marry him. YN really couldn’t believe it.
Harry’s quick to stand up and wrap his arms around YN’s waist, and she places her hands upon his cheeks and their lips are pressed together in a kiss that’s quick and rushed but everything that they need at this moment in time.
“I love you.” She grins once she pulls away, resting her forehead against his, “So much.”
“I love you, too.”
A year ago YN’s life changed in ways that she could only dream about. She became one of the most recognised chess players in the world and had a title to match that. A year later her life had changed again, in this way to the point where she would be spending the rest of her life with the man who she loved more than anything.
In her eyes she had won, she had reached a checkmate and there was no turning back from it.
She didn’t want to.
𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 buy me a coffee
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @havethetimeofyourstyles @stylesfics-xx @millennial-teenybopper @burberryharold @heartbreakweatherharry @ucancallmechlo @ill-be-your-honey-bri @the-tumbl-r-of-my-youth @njpic @hipslikejagger @caprisunstyles @itsbuckysworld @afire-hes @louie-bug @lolapuffs @cutemint @hswritingrecs @disposableerror @peachybloomss @rubytersteege @coni-martina @sleepingdancer @harrys-cherrry @rainbowbutterflyboy @shawn-youth @swtxel @harrysunflowerkiwi @nesiamenick @glitterandharry @hhh33-3l @yourhsficsplug @gliitteryy @duh-dobrik
#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles x yn#harry styles x you#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles smut fic#harry styles writing#harry styles series#series
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Farm Grown / Hawks x Reader ♕︎
uwu, I had the lovely @weirddpand4 draw this picture of cowboy Hawks for this work!!!
warnings: NSFW, spanking, cream pie
words: 4,802
-
“Oh, wow! Look at that! I’ve never seen grass so green before!” your friend, Urakaka Ochaco, exclaims.
Glancing up from your phone, you follow her line of vision; gracious hills of rich green grass stretch out far into the horizon, meeting with the brilliant shade of blue. It’s so unlike the skyscrapers and closely-knit houses you’re used to seeing. No, this is what pure beauty looks like, Mother Nature in one of her most wonderful forms. Although the fields are dotted with wildflowers and corn fields, you don’t miss the dirt road further up ahead, a large wooden sign planted next to it.
When Ochaco originally came to you with the idea of being a farmhand, you thought she was crazy. You’ve finally graduated from high school, got the title of professional hero, and this is the first thing she wanted to do? However, as she further explained, it was a family friend who needed help during the summer months, and what were heroes for? Granted, you wanted to run around the cement jungle and provide help that way, but this “almost vacation” didn’t sound too bad – plus, with the puppy eyes Ochaco flashed at you, it was impossible to say no.
And so, here you are, sitting in the passenger side of a coupe with Ochaco behind the wheel. You have to admit; the surrounding atmosphere is beautiful, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to run barefoot through the grass. Clouds of dust rise as the car eventually comes to a stop outside of a weathered farmhouse. Ochako flashes you a smile, her large eyes twinkling.
“Look at how huge this place is! I know Uncle Iroh said he had a couple people helping out, but this is incredible! We’ll each have our own room!”
You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. Ochaco’s always been easy to rile up, and the fact that she’s genuinely excited to spend quality “bonding time” with you is heartwarming. As the two of you step out of the car, the front door to the farmhouse opens, revealing an elderly man with a long beard and a kind expression. His face cracks into a smile when he and Ochaco make eye contact; the two hurry towards each other, warm greetings and bone-crushing hugs being shared between the two. It’s no wonder Ochaco was so excited to spend the summer here; with a relationship like that, you’d be happy to see the man too.
“Oh, come, come!” Iroh says, hurrying around the car and popping the trunk open. “You must be Ochaco’s friend, yes?” he asks, looking towards you. A wave of pleasant warmth washes over your being as he sends you that charming smile. “I appreciate the help! I only have my nephew and another man working here already, but the extra hands will come in handy.” He pauses then to chuckle at his own joke. “But I think it’s about you two get settled, yeah?”
“Right!” you respond, pulling out your own suitcase.
As you walk up towards the wraparound porch, you glance to the other trucks sitting out in front of the farmhouse. Iroh said two others were already here, so you figured the trucks must be theirs…
“Zuko!” Iroh booms. “Our guests are here!”
After a moment or so, a boy around your age staggers from the kitchen, a tray in his hands. From the looks of it, a teapot and some cups line its surface.
“Tea is our specialty, here,” Iroh says, nudging you with your shoulder. “Get something to drink and then we’ll show you your rooms.”
-
Later on that evening, you’re gazing out your window, watching the sun fall. Hues of orange, peach, and lilac paint the sky, bidding the world goodbye for the night. It’s definitely different to experience it here than back home, back where silhouettes were outlined by the golden glow. A steady breeze carries on, carrying the scent of wildflowers and musk; your curtains flap from the sheer force of it, but you pay it no mind. It’s like Ochaco brought you to a slice of paradise, even if it’s with the intention of putting in labor.
In the distance, you hear calls and the distinguished moos of cows. Shifting your gaze, you catch a herd of cows being moved towards a barn; a man riding a brown horse wrangles them in, a border collie by his side. The way he pulls it off is smooth, and it’s clear that he’s used to pulling such a feat. However, what really catches your attention is the pair of magnificent scarlet wings protruding from his back. Now, you’re used to seeing some rather flashy quirks, but this guy’s is just… Wow.
“Hey, Uncle Iroh wanted me to come get you,” Ochaco’s voice says suddenly. Turning around, you see her standing in the doorway, a pleasant expression playing on her face. “We’re having oyakodon for dinner! Doesn’t a hot meal sound delicious?” And, as if to amp up your spirits, Ochaco licks her lips and pats her tummy. “I’m so hungry from a long drive!”
You huff in amusement. “Yeah, I am too.” Turning around, you catch a glimpse of the cows disappearing into the barn, that mysterious cowboy stationed by the doors. “Hey, Ochaco,” you start before realizing it, “but who’s that other guy that lives here? The one with the wings?”
Walking over to where you stand, Ochaco peers out the window, following your line of sight. “Oh, him? That’s Keigo. Uncle Iroh says he’s only been here for the past year or so, but he’s really good at what he does! I heard all the animals like him a lot – maybe it’s because of the wings?”
“Don’t you think it’s… odd that’s only a farmhand? With a quirk like that, you’d think he’d be doing something else.”
Ochaco shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe you should ask him sometime? Oh, but I’m really hungry! Can we go eat, now?”
“Yeah, sorry, I just got distracted…”
And so, you soon find yourself sitting at a sturdy wooden table, a bowl of oyakodon sitting before you. It smells utterly delicious - and paired with the tea Iroh brewed, you know you’re in for a treat. Just then, you hear a door opening and closing; there’s a chatter of some sorts, but then there he is, right there in the flesh.
Strong build, wide shoulders, blond hair that looks permanently tousled, and oh yes, those magnificent wings. Perhaps you shouldn’t be staring so much, but the sharp line of his jaw and intense eyes make it nearly impossible to look away. You’ve heard of such things, read about them in stories, but maybe, just maybe, you might’ve fallen for the guy at first sight. That, or he’s just too damn attractive for his own good.
“Howdy! Oh, shit, who are these two cuties?”
Or maybe not.
“Oi! Keigo! Can’t you be respectful for once in your life?” Iroh barks, popping around the other. He scowls as he slaps a wing out of his way. “Make a good impression for yourself. These two are going to be here for the rest of the summer, so don’t be an ass.”
“C’mon, gramps,” Keigo drawls, “you know I’m better than that. Plus, if they don’t like my attitude, then it’s not really my fault, huh?”
“Nothing ever changes,” Zuko says lowly, his words followed by a deep sigh.
You and Ochaco share a look. It seems like your Prince Charming is nothing more than a sarcastic asshat. How befitting.
“Liven up, birdies,” Keigo says, sliding into the chair directly across from you. “I don’t bite.” He winks at you. “Yet.”
Your entire body jolts at his proclamation. This guy really is shameless, isn’t he? Still, you can’t help but feel undeniably attracted to him. Curse his charisma, dammit.
“Aw, sweet! Is this oyakodon? Hell yeah.”
To the side, Zuko facepalms. Iroh merely chuckles and shakes his head, much like he’s way too used to this kind of behavior and has accepted it as it is. Hell, even Ochako cracks a smile. You, on the other hand, stare at Keigo in confusion. He has a bird-based quirk, doesn’t he? Does it not bother him to not eat chicken…?
Keigo puts up a hand, an amused glint in his eyes. “Look, I already know what you’re gonna ask, kid. I can practically see the gears spinning in that pretty head of yours. I fucking love chicken.”
Oh… Well, that takes care of that, doesn’t it…
-
After that first fateful encounter, you’ve grown used to Keigo’s ways. It’s funny, though, how he and Zuko’s personalities basically sit on either end of the spectrum, yet Iroh treats the both of them like they’re his children. While Zuko is serious and straight-laced, Keigo is more of a chatty free spirit. That said, you’ve also gotten used to Keigo’s flirty side. You suspect it’s because he likes to get a rise out of everyone. Whether that’s the case or not, your eyes often wander after him, stare down the hard lines of his back. Even better, you itch to trail your lips over the scruff lining his jaw. The guy’s too damn hot and he knows it.
Over the past month, a game of cat and mouse has started between the two of you. Him, trying to act all chummy and overstepping numerous boundaries. You, trying not to give into the weird relationship that’s bloomed between you and him. Sure, you might have flirted back, but what were you supposed to do? After all, Keigo’s proved himself to be a rather cool guy.
“You can’t keep spacing out like that, kid,” Keigo says, snapping you from your thoughts. Glancing down at him, you attempt to suppress your embarrassment, but Keigo’s too smart for that. Despite his relaxed attitude, he’s surprisingly intelligent and quite observant.
Hands tightening around the saddle, you scoff. “I wasn’t spacing out…”
Keigo cocks an eyebrow. “You know, if I wasn’t holding onto the reins, Nugget would’ve bucked you off a long time ago.”
This time, you snicker. You know that he has an undying love for chicken, but every time he refers to his horse as Nugget, you can’t help but laugh. This guy really is like a child.
“Pffft. Laugh all you want, birdie. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s how to ride.” Narrowing his eyes, he flashes you a sultry look. “If you want, I can show you.”
All laughter dies on your tongue. A spark of heat erupts in your stomach, makes your heart thump against your ribcage. He always manages to fluster you, to plant naughty little thoughts into your head. You swallow thickly. “I think… I think I’ll stick with Nugget for now.”
At that, Keigo shrugs, his expression turning into something more nonchalant. “Suit yourself. Seriously, though; you should always keep your focus while riding a horse. Anything can happen, and you’ll only know you’re fucked until you’re being crushed. Better yet, you’re flying overhead and end up snapping your neck. Hate to break it to you, but you don’t have wings to break your fall.”
“Keigo.”
He looks back up at you. “What?”
“Your wings. It’s just that… Well… Why help out on farm?”
Keigo blinks at you, no words slipping out. “Hah? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Shit,” you say quickly, mentally cursing yourself out, “that’s not what I meant. You can fly, can’t you? It just seems like you could’ve made a name for yourself…”
“And become a hero, right?” You wince at his words. He hit the nail right on the head. “Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I could spew a whole bunch of shit from my mouth and call it a day, but that’s not my style. I’m a hero in my own right.”
You furrow your brows. Remaining silent, you wait for him to carry on.
Keigo sighs at your implication. “Not all heroes wear capes or whatever. What about cops? Firefighters? Nurses? People who help put food on your table and help that old man out? Just because I’m not stopping some robbery doesn’t mean I’m not important.”
His words come as a slap to the face. He has a good point; actually, scratch that. He has a fantastic fucking point.
“I’m sorry,” you say after a moment’s silence. “That was selfish of me.”
Keigo waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. Nugget gets nervous if you get into a bad mood.”
Absentmindedly, your hand drops onto the horse’s neck, giving it a couple of reassuring strokes. “He’s a beautiful horse.”
“Yeah – well, until I bathe him. Getting up close and personal to horse cock isn’t fun. A bit degrading, actually.”
Slapping a hand over your mouth, you try to muffle your sudden laughter. Air streams through the cracks of your fingers.
Instead of his usual smirk, Keigo flashes you a genuine smile. You’ve only seen it once or twice before, but it never fails to make your heart stop. His whole face scrunches, his pearly teeth a startling white compared to his sun-kissed skin. Okay, so maybe you’ve fallen in love with this guy. It’s no big deal; you’re only here for the summer, so there’s no point in chasing after something you can’t have.
“What, did ya find that funny? I’m here all week, folks.”
“You saying you’re a standup comedian now?” you shoot back. “I didn’t know they accepted clowns on farms.”
“Ohoho, so you do got a mouth. Where’s that been all this time, huh? Would’ve made things a lot more fun.” Reaching up, he knocks his cowboy hat further back, revealing more strands of sandy hair and bronzed skin. “Listen here, partner. This town ain’t big enough for the two of us.”
“Oh my god,” you say with a snort. “You’re such a dork.”
Keigo snickers. “You know you love me.”
Heh. Yeah…
If only he knew.
-
Maybe you should’ve taken his words more into consideration.
Your instincts are more attuned to what could happen in battle, not for words. Besides, Keigo is a sneaky bastard. Most of the things that spew from his mouth are innuendos and pure sarcasm. He doesn’t really come off as a genuine type of person.
It’s whatever. You don’t like to read into things too much, and maybe that’s your fault, maybe it’s not. Who knows?
Even so, your eyes continuously drift over to where he stands. He busies himself with hanging Nugget’s saddle and harness away, his body lax. If one’s thing for sure, he definitely seems a lot more comfortable around animals rather than actual human beings. You can’t blame him, but what about you? Is he comfortable around you?
Clearing your throat, you turn back to the task at hand. Brushing Nugget down, you trail your hand over the coarse hair, the hard muscle. You meant it when you said he’s beautiful. Shiny brown coat, straw colored hair – he seems like the perfect match for Keigo.
“Cowboy Keigo,” you mutter. “Tell me, Nugget,” you begin, “does Keigo treat you right? Feeds you apples and lumps of sugar? A pretty horse like you deserves to be spoiled.” At the mention of his master’s name, Nugget whinnies. “Is that a yes? You’re avoiding the question, man.”
“Are you seriously trying to sweettalk my horse?” Keigo pipes up. Stepping over the stall, he hoists himself up onto the gate and straddles the wood. Wings sweeping behind him, he flashes you a peculiar look. “Didn’t they teach you in school that you shouldn’t seduce a horse? I don’t know about you, kid, but bestiality isn’t smiled upon around here.”
“Then what does that say about you, bird boy?” you quip. “Surely you don’t put yourself in that category?”
“Ooo, degradation. How did you know that was one of my kinks? Were you looking through my search history?”
Rolling your eyes, you set the brush to the side and join him at the gate. Climbing up, you mimic his movements and straddle the wooden beam. “Kinky cowboy, huh? Kind of has a nice ring to it.”
“Oh yeah. I’ve got the bedazzled white boots and everything. I mean, I’m already wearing the assless chaps and everything.”
“You sound more like a stripper rather than a farmhand. What do you think, Nugget?” you ask, turning towards the horse. Nugget merely snorts and shakes his head.
“Hey, hey, don’t agree,” Keigo tells him. “I’ve got to keep my secret life a secret, you damned horse. Help a guy out.”
“I guess your partner would rather throw you under the bus,” you say with a chuckle. “Good horse.”
“Now you’re just trying to hurt my feelings.”
“Cry me a river, bird boy. Or do I have to kiss your booboos?”
At that, Keigo falls quiet. The look in his eyes is unreadable, but the way his body tensed tells you something else entirely. Abruptly, he swings his leg over the gate and hops back down onto the ground. Aw, shit. Did you take it too far? It was only lighthearted flirting and yanking on his leg-
“C’mere,” Keigo says, offering you his hand. His voice is a lot more… soft.
With little to no hesitation, you take hold of his hand and get off the gate. You’re about to ask him what he wants, but then he’s abruptly pulling you to the side, further away from the stable’s open doors. Birds are singing outside, their sweet melody carrying along with the sweet summer breeze. It almost seems like an entire world away. A grunt escapes your lips as you’re shoved against the wall, the smell of straw and musk filling your senses. Keigo steps in close, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down your spine.
“Listen here, pretty little birdie,” he drawls, his lips pulling back in a smirk, “but I may just have to take you up on that offer.”
Wait, what?
“What the hell, Keigo? Where is this coming from?” you question. It’s not like you’re against him being so damn close, it’s just… unexpected.
“Oh, right, like I’m supposed to pretend that you don’t gawk at me at any chance you get. You’re not very subtle, you know.”
Embarrassment heats up your insides, crawls up your neck. So this bastard is really going to rub it in your face, huh? Seems just like him.
“Then why didn’t you say anything about it before?” you hiss. “If it’s such a problem, don’t stay silent. You’re not the type to let things like that slide.”
“Who said it was problem?”
Keigo: 1 / you: 0
Spluttering, you try to gain control of your whirling emotions. This is not how you were expecting this conversation to go. Actually, you weren’t expecting this conversation at all!
“I know for a fact that you can’t get enough of me,” Keigo continues. “And if I’m being completely honest, I like it. You look so cute when you stare after me, birdie. Then you have the audacity to pretend like nothing happened whenever I catch you.”
“Is that what this is all about?” you huff. “Okay, fine. I admit it. Maybe I watch what you’re doing more than what’s necessary. It’s not my fault you walk around all the time without a shirt on or anything…”
“Normally, I’d say because it’s because I get hot when I’m working, but knowing that you were watching made it all the better.” He winks at you. “Gotta hand out a treat here and there, you know?”
“You really are a clown!” you squeak. Keigo laughs as you weakly shove at his chest. “You’ve been leading me on this entire time? What am I, a joke?”
“Hey now, don’t get ahead of yourself, kid. It’s not my fault you couldn’t come up to me like a civilized adult.”
Okay, now you’re fuming. “Keigo, you fucking idiot-“
Swooping in, Keigo cuts you off with a kiss. Unsurprisingly, his lips are soft; he tastes like citrus and salt, and before you know it, you’re looping your arms around his neck, knocking his hat off in the process. A huff of laughter fans across your lips as Keigo pulls back, his mouth hovering over yours. “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that ever since your pretty ass sat at the kitchen table for the first time.”
You sigh. “You really do have a bird brain…”
You kiss him, again and again. Perhaps you should be ashamed that you have your tongue shoved down somebody’s throat rather than working, but there’s no way you’re stopping now. Like him, you’ve been waiting for this moment. The two of you have been tiptoeing around each other, rolling the tension back and forth like a goddamn snowball.
But fuck if it doesn’t feel good.
His hands aren’t shy, not in the slightest. Fingertips map out the ridges and dips of your body, seek out the spots that really make you tick. You bite back a giggle as he drops his mouth down your neck, the scruff covering his jawline tickling your skin. Your own hands trail over his body, tracing over the hard lines of muscle that hide beneath his clothes. Time and time again, whenever you’d see him without a shirt, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands all over him. This is your chance, now, and you’d be damned if you didn’t take it.
“Shit, shit, shit, not the wings,” Keigo pants into your neck. The scarlet feathers feel like silk beneath your fingertips; skimming over them, you follow their shape, feel how they get fluffier the closer they are to his shoulders. “Oh, fuck. You know just what you’re doing, huh, birdie? Playing around with me like that. Two can play at that game.”
Another grunt slips from your lips as he pushes you against the wall, harder this time. His hands shamelessly drift underneath your shirt, warm palms sliding over your skin. Your shirt comes off before you know it, being unceremoniously thrown to the ground.
“Fuck, birdie, aren’t a pretty one,” Keigo purrs, his nose bumping against your throat as he sucks another mark into your flesh. “I bet you’re real pretty down here, too…” Making quick work of your jeans, he easily slips them down your legs and you eagerly step out of them. “Don’t mind if I do, kid,” he murmurs into your ear before nipping at the lobe.
A weak moan breaks from your throat as a hand slips into your underwear and cups your sex. His hand is just so warm, and the roughness of his callouses causes your head to spin. Within no time, wet, sinful noises sound from between your legs, mixing with your heavy breaths and Keigo’s encouraging words.
“Yeah, you like that, birdie? My fingers feel good, huh? Wait until you get a feel of my cock.”
Spurred on by his words, you hastily unbutton his shirt, pushing the fabric to the side and running your hands over the swell of his pectorals, the ridges of his abdomen. A faint dusting of blond hairs covers his chest and arms; and, if you look close enough, more sticks out from the waistband of his jeans. Keigo hums as you continue to feel him up, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.
“Like what you see? I bet you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time… Fuck! Not going to go easy on me, huh? I like someone who can bite back.”
“Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?” you breathe. Fingers wrapped around his cock, your movements catch up to his in speed. “You should consider yourself lucky that I like your voice.”
“Oohoohoo, feisty. That mouth of yours is saying a lot of mean things today, isn’t it? Guess I’ll have to put you in your place.” He pauses, swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. “But, if I’m being entirely too honest, I don’t think I have the patience for that.”
“Keigo,” you pant, “I swear to Christ if you don’t fuck me right now-“
“On it, on it. Don’t get your panties in a twist, your majesty.” In hurried movements, he strips you of your underwear and shucks his chaps and jeans down. Large hands grip onto your thighs and then you’re being hoisted up, sandwiched between his rigid body and the wall. “Why, won’t you feel that,” he purrs, “I’d say it’s high noon.”
“Don’t talk about your dick like that, you dork,” you scoff. “Oh, fuck.” Another pleasured noise slips through your lips as you grind down against him, his cock just barely teasing your hole.
“What was that, birdie? You know what they say – sweetie on the farm, a freak in the barn.”
“You’re anything but sweet. Just – Keigo, please?”
“Alright, I get it, enough teasing.” Adjusting his hold on you, he flashes you a tiny smile. “Hold on, partner.”
A choked groan breaks free from your throat as his cock slides in, your velvety walls sucking him in greedily. That damned smirk of his stays on his face the entire time he fucks you, along with that devious glint in his eyes. His façade only cracks after you start stroking his wings and squeeze around his cock; if he wants to act like a cocky son of a bitch, then so can you.
“Shit, you’re fucking tight,” he pants. The smack of skin against skin fills your ears, right alongside Keigo’s breathy moans and muttered words. “Keep squeezing like that, birdie, and you’re gonna make me cum quicker than I want to.”
“You almost sound like that’s exactly what you want me to do,” you breathe. “A cowboy like you has got to have some stamina, right? Don’t tell me all of that work goes to nothing.”
“Jesus, and you called me talkative. Fuck, I can’t wait to shove my cock down your throat and shut you the hell up – I said don’t squeeze like that, holy hell. Dirty little head you got there, huh?”
“Shut the fuck up,” you mumble, yanking him back into a kiss. Keigo only moans loudly as you continue to play with his wings, quickly finding out that the spot where they protrude from his flesh is the most sensitive.
“Milk my cock, birdie,” he mutters between broken kisses. “You’re so fucking good to me, oh yeah. I should’ve done this weeks ago.” A startled squeak bursts from your throat as he abruptly strikes your ass. Sucking air through his teeth, he does it again, relishing in the desperate noises spilling from your mouth. “That’s right, birdie. Come on, make me cum. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you, fill you up until your belly’s bloated.”
“Keigo-“ You moan as his hand drops down, fingers furiously rubbing at your sex.
“That’s right, say my name. Let the whole fucking world know who’s fucking you this good.”
“Keigo-“
Smack.
“KEIGO!”
The knot building up inside you snaps; with a cry, you cling even closer to him, your velvety walls spasming around his thick cock as you cum.
Slamming a hand against the wall, Keigo fucks into you harder, faster, the wet noises sounding from between your legs almost deafening. “Oh fuck yeah, oh fuck yeah, oh fuck, fuck, fuck – ah- ah- ugghnn…” Burying his face in your neck, his hips erratically jerk as warmth fills your insides. “Still… cumming… fuccckkk…”
Your eyes flutter as he shallowly thrusts into you, the sinful squelch of his cum leaking out around his cock filling your ears. Slowly, he comes to a stop, his hot breath fanning over your neck and the side of your face. Gingerly, you let him go, completely unaware that your fingernails had dug into him in the first place.
“Well,” he starts, lifting his head and flicking away sweaty strands of hair, “that was eventful, wasn’t it?”
You scoff. “Tell me why I like you again…?”
“Oh, darling,” he drawls, leaning in and pecking the corner of your mouth. “I don’t think you like me. I think you love me. You aren’t very subtle.” He laughs as you smack him on the chest.
“Okay, fine. You’re lucky I love you, bird brain. Don’t go rubbing it in.”
“Silly birdie,” Keigo hums, his face scrunching into that wonderful smile of his. “I may just love you too.”
Wait, seriously?
“And no, I’m not joking or being an ass,” he continues, as if reading your mind. “What’s it called? Love at first sight? I dunno, seems like cheesy bullshit to me, but I… I like the appeal of it. It sounds nice when you’re involved.”
Your heart thumps against your chest.
Oh, fuck.
#mha#my hero academia#bnha boku no hero academia#keigo takami x reader#takami keigo x reader#hawks x reader#keigo takami#takami keigo#hawks#mha hawks#bnha hawks#mha smut#bnha smut#empress writes
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13 Going on 30 pt. 3
A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfic based off the movie 13 going on 30
Summary: You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever
Warnings: Angst, Some suggestive content, But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also Peter has no powers in this fic, and some scenes will be changed to fit Peter and his personality and so I can be creative with it!)
Word Count: 2103
Peter thought it was safe to say that adult life sucked. And it wasn't just because he had run out of lucky charms this morning and had to settle for something called shredded wheat that was hidden away in the back of the panty. They were gross and tasted like cardboard, but Peter was all out of groceries so this would have to do.
No nothing had seemed to go right for him after high school, he went to college, (even though he spent most of the time partying and goofing off), got the degree and yet he was barely scraping by. But he couldn't complain, all that much at least. He enjoyed his job and even if at times it was hard to earn money he wouldn't trade it for the world. He had fallen in love with photography in freshman year and decided to major in it. He had a minor in business too, something you had always told him would be useful as a backup. You were always practical like that, making sure he never completely fell over the edge. But he was hesitant to use it, because in using that minor it kinda meant he was giving up his dream. Giving in to the regular, soul crossing 9 to 5 job that everyone seemed to have. Peter was a dreamer at heart, in a way it would kill him to do anything other than photography.
He ate a spoonful of his cereal, making a face at the dull taste. Chewing, he glanced over at the stack of bills littering the counter. A lot of them were piling up, sooner or later he may have to give into the normalcy of a business job. Work had been slow lately and very boring. More often than not people hired him to take photos for their weddings or graduation, simple stuff. Stuff that had him bored out of his mind. But there were no clients currently so until he got one he had all the time in the world to himself. Which he loved at first but now it seems he was falling into a bit of a routine.
Peter aimlessly wandered around the kitchen lost in thought, his eyes drifted toward the collection of pictures pinned to his fridge. There was a picture of you on there, from before you had cut him out of your life. Peter set the bowl down on the counter and gently lifted the magnet to pull the picture off. It was a polaroid of you two, You had your arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, hugging him from behind. His hands were resting on yours, you both were smiling, teeth missing.
This picture was from the first day of first grade. Even back then Peter had had some feelings for you. And the way his eyes looked at you and not the camera was proof of this. Peter ran his thumb gently over the faded picture, for a moment he let himself wonder about how you were doing, before he snapped himself out of it. He put the picture back in its place and picked his bowl back up. It was too early to be having thoughts like that.
Peter yawned and lazily plopped down on his worn out sofa, flipping through the channels on the tv. There was nothing on, signing he threw out the rest of his cereal, it had gotten soggy while he was busy reminiscing. He dropped the empty bowl into the sink, only adding to the collection of unwashed dishes. He glanced over at the phone and the soft blinking of the red light, indicating he had voicemails he hadn't listened to yet. He knew he was going to have to take her calls sooner or later but right now he didn't want to deal with her.
He headed to the park and decided to do some laps on the path, running always helped him to relax and clear his head. He always got stares and shy smiles from the women that were jogging, he found out that apparently the silver hair that everyone made fun of him for was very attractive to women now. Something he used to use to his advantage to pick up the occasional hook up.
After that he went to go get groceries and then played on his pacman machine until lunchtime. He totally knew how to spend his time. He made his way over to the kitchen and looked at all the new groceries he had bought. Twinkies, instant ramen, mac and cheese, he picked up the box of lucky charms, weighing the option of eating it for lunch. He thought better of it and put it back on the shelf, he really needed to eat healthier, god knows sooner or later his metabolism was going to give out.
He picked up the phone and placed an order form the Chinese place a couple blocks away, ordering way more food than he needed. That way he wouldn't have to cook for the next few meals. Peter was inherently lazy and cooking was not something he was very good at. So when he would he just ordered takeout and leftovers so he could eat them later. He hung up the phone and walked over to the fridge and took out the milk, drinking it straight for the carton, while he was doing that he heard a loud knock on the door. “That was quick.” The knocking continued non stop over and over, “I’m coming hold on!” He yelled out as he shuffled to the door and opened it peering through the opening that the chain allowed. “You know it’s rude to-'' The words died in his throat. There was a woman standing at his door, wearing a coat over her night dress.
*******************************************************
You hadn't been able to pay attention to the briefing your boss gave, your assistant came in about half way through and handed you a small slip of paper. She said that she had found Peter’s address like you had asked. You had pulled her into a hug, creating an awkward tension in the room. The meeting had seemed to go on forever, and for the life of you you couldn't even remember what it was about. As soon as the meeting ended you had bolted out the door, ignoring the calls of your boss and colleagues telling you that work wasn't over yet.
You had found his apartment after randomly asking strangers in the street which way it was. You were at his door, the number on it hanging lopsided. You began to rapidly knock until the door was pulled open. “You know it’s rude to-”
He paused as he saw you staring at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “You’re not the chinese delivery guy.”
You felt your eyes widen as you took him in. “Peter?” You asked in a small voice.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you. “Yeah?”
You let out a sigh of relief, smiling. “You’re tall.” You looked him up and down. “And you’re so handsome.”
His face turned red at your words. He didn't even know who this random woman was that was standing here, telling him he was handsome. He leaned against the doorframe, taking another drink out of the carton. “I’m sorry do- do I know you?”
He watched your face fall. “You don’t know me?”
“No?” He said, wiping the dribbling milk off his chin. Even after all these years his mannerisms were the same.
“Wait! “ You said rushing forward. He jumped slightly at the sudden action. “It’s me, I saw you yesterday. Well I was thirteen yesterday so I guess it wasn't yesterday. Because now i'm old and I don't know where I am-” Peter watched you ramble on and slowly began to close the door. You continued on. “But you were there at my party-”
Peter paused, squinting his eyes and looking at you closely.. “(Y/n)?” He asked hesitantly, reopening the door as much as the chain would allow. “(y/n) (y/l/n)?” You smiled wide at him.
“Yes! Yes it’s me!”
Peter slammed the door shut in your face. You heard him unlock all the locks on his side of the door, when he was down he swung the door open. “Hey.” he gave you a small smile. You lunged at him and tackled him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He just stood there frozen, slowly moving his free hand up to awkwardly pat you on the back. “Come in I guess.” He muttered.
You pulled back smiling at him. Even after all this time your sweet smile could make his heart skip a beat. You looked around his small apartment taking it all in. Peter did his best to kick discarded clothes into the closet, and keep you from seeing what a mess it was. You looked along his walls to see framed pictures of portraits and beautiful landscapes. “Are you still taking pictures?” You asked,
“Uh yeah, they pay the bills.” He quickly grabbed the pile of unpaid bills, stuffing them behind the couch cushion. “Usually.” He muttered under his breath. You were pacing around his apartment, in confused circles. He nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. “Hey, (y/n) I don't wanna be rude but why are you here?”
“Petey I told you.” You said moving closer to him, he let out a little laugh.
“Petey wow, no one has called me that in ages.”
“Petey listen I came here cause something really weird is happening. Yesterday was my 13th birthday and then today I woke up and I’m this!” You said gesturing to your body. Peter tried his best not to look you up and down, he couldn't deny that you had grown up well. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. “And you’re that!” You said gesturing towards him.
Peter looked down at himself self consciously. “Gee thanks. Do I really look that bad?”
“No!” You quickly said. You felt yourself blush as you looked him over. His hair was tousled and messy, he was wearing an oversized pink floyd crop top and from the looks of the hem it seemed he had made it himself. You watched the veins in his hands ripple and his arms slightly flex. “Uh you,” You let out an embarrassed laugh. “You actually look really good, like really good.”
Peter flushed at your words and turned away so you couldn't see his blushing face. “Wow.” He whispered under his breath, he lifted a hand up to his face, doing his best to hide the smile that was forming. He turned back to and regained a serious composure. “Are you sure you're okay (y/n).” He took in your mismatched outfit and broken heel. “Are you high? Have you been smoking pot? Doing drugs, cause if you are I’m not judging as long as it’s just weed or something. Cause I mean I get it, I get stressed to and every now and then need-”
“No, no.” You said shaking your head rapidly. “Wait do you do-,” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Do you do drugs Peter?”
“No! No.” Peter shrugged. “Ehhh well not drugs, just weed.” He defended. But looking at your judgmental eyes he quickly continued on. “And I don’t, well I don’t that much any more. It was in college you know how it was.”
“Actually I don’t.” You moved even closer to him. “Look, I was sitting in my closet, and I- I skipped everything. I can’t- I can’t remember my life.” Your eyes were watery as you started back at him. His heart ached seeing you like this. You continued on. ‘You need to help me remember my life.”
At this he scoffed, and pretended to look around as if you were referring to someone else. “Me?” he said pointing to himself, letting out an airy laugh. “That’s rich.”
“What why?” He let out another laugh at your response, this one was dry. He looked at your face and saw that you weren’t kidding, you were serious about asking for his help.
“(Y/n) I can’t.” He was in disbelief, did you seriously have no idea what you had done to him. “I don’t know anything about you. I haven't seen you since high school.” Your face morphed into one of confusion.
“What?”
What he said next pained him, and he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes. “(Y/n). We’re not friends anymore.”
You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. “What?”
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@lets-imagine-fanfics @steamboat-local @weasly-twin-simp
Let me know if you want to be added!!
#peter maximoff headcanon#peter maximoff x y/n#peter maximoff x you#peter maximoff x reader#peter maximoff fluff#peter maximoff fanfiction#peter maximoff imagine#peter maximoff#quicksilver xmen x reader#quicksilver xmen#quicksilver x you#quicksilver x y/n#quicksilver x reader#quicksilver#evan peters#evan peters x reader#evan peters fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#marvel#xmen fanfiction#xmen#ahs fanfiction#13 going on 30 au#13 going on 30
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Another Dance (Duel Pt. 2) | Seulgi x F!Reader
Genre: fluff, knight!au
Summary: Seulgi has taught you how to dance, but now she needs to teach you what this new feeling brewing in your chest means.
Word Count: 3k
A/N: Sorry this took a while to get out. Thank you again to my editor I always love your suggestions. I hope everything in this follow up makes sense.
Date: 5/9/21
Click here to read part one
Perhaps these last few months of your life have been the best. Despite the fact that training has been more brutal due to your nearing graduation into knighthood, every moment has felt brighter than the past several years of your life. Maybe all? You can’t remember ever waking up to a feeling like this all the time.
Yes, this feeling right here in your chest. The feeling you get when you wake up startled and in a frenzy from a dream of spending a day with Seulgi. A life with Seulgi. It’s the feeling that you get when she asks for your hand so that the two of you can make a fool of yourselves dancing. The strange way your chest seems to contract and hurt when Seulgi sneaks a smile while the commandment screams orders at you.
Since when did you feel like this? You’re not sure. Maybe it was that one night the two of you spent together weeks ago, where you finally felt confident enough to lead the dance for once. You had pulled her close with a bold move you didn’t even plan to make, making Seulgi give you a shocked look before glancing away, barely catching her soft smile. Maybe she was proud of you in that moment, you don’t know. You don’t know anything anymore besides Seulgi, besides the fact that you were hyper aware of her breath that night. Of the way her garments clung so close to skin, the rise and fall of her chest, the length of her eyelashes, the slope of her nose.
Every day you’re greeted by the sunrise, only to be anticipating its set.
Before you can spend your cherished time with Seulgi though, you had to go through the motions of your day. Time seemed to pass slowly as you sparred and trained. Nowadays though there was a lightness in your body that wasn’t there before, and your eyes had become better at reading the flowing movements of your opponents. You were ecstatic to see your improvement, likewise were the commanding officers and fellow apprentices, it seemed. Some officers urged you to continue to carry out whatever it was that you were doing to improve and to finally displace Seulgi. Meanwhile the knights-in-training were muttering among themselves about your progress and how it was done.
To say that you were happy that morning training ended would be an understatement. The second highlight of your day would be the precious half hour you spent with Seulgi during your afternoon meal. As you impatiently wait in line to be served whatever was deemed nutritious for prospecting knights, you think about how you were just a couple months ago. After spending some time with Seulgi you wanted to somehow be even closer to her, to spend time beyond the midnight dances you two shared.
When you had first decided to sit next to Seulgi instead of by your lonesome, you were uncharacteristically nervous. You were sure that if people looked carefully enough they could have noticed how your steady sword-arm shook as you held onto your tray of food. People didn’t hide their raised eyebrows at your approach, some people left the area, terrified at the thought of you possibly coming over to terrorize them.
It was a surprise when you had quietly asked if it was okay for you to seat yourself next to Seulgi. She didn’t hesitate to say yes, flashing you her crescent eyes you had unknowingly grown accustomed to. The surrounding witnesses to the sight were confused. When would you have willingly associated with anyone? Especially Seulgi, and in such a shy manner?
When you finally get your meal you walk towards the familiar table and remember your present day situation. Now that time has passed people are less wary around you and how you seemingly lack the intention to verbally abuse and berate people. In fact, when you began to take Seulgi’s advice of smiling more people seemed to… like you? It helped that you lost most of your competitive streak, instead favoring to focus on yourself and what you can do. Mostly your dancing, though, as you yearned to impress Seulgi more each and every night.
The clank of your tray against the wooden aging table alerts Seulgi of your presence. Quickly turning her head away from the person she was talking to, she opens her mouth to greet you. That was until Markus, a man who came from a noble family with notable enough skills, called out for you. You move to face the source of his voice, only to notice him uncomfortably close to your side. It was odd for him to suddenly appear when you swore you didn’t notice him on your way over.
“Hey, I was just wondering if you’d like to duel me in the afternoon? You know, since we haven’t gotten an opportunity to do so for the past couple weeks. Maybe go on a walk afterwards?” He throws you a shy, maybe even a cheeky smile. If there was one thing you knew about him it was that you’ve had much more encounters with him than you’d like recently, and that smile of his was one he’d thrown at other female trainees in the past. If anything, he was merely a passing thought.
“Sure, I don’t care.” You say in your signature neutral tone. Hoping that he’d leave you alone now, you began to turn back to Seulgi. Your movement is stopped when Markus puts his hand on your shoulder and swipes a finger across your cheek.
“You had some dirt there from practice. Just wanted to get it off.” He grins tortuously wide before excusing himself from the table. You sigh, and when you finally get to look at Seulgi she has a raised brow, her mouth forming a tight line. Not sure what to do at her sudden change of mood, you pick at your food a bit. You feel like you can’t eat anything under her intense stare.
You’re starting to feel nervous until Seulgi decides to tap on your shoulder. Glancing up from your plate you see her with a handkerchief in hand.
“I think," she pauses, "Markus made it worse, actually.” She adds before gently rubbing the dirt that became spread across your face. You scrunch your nose and eyes but a small smirk forms in affection.
“Does it really matter, though? I don’t care about how I look.”
“I think you look cuter without it. And more hygienic.”
**
After your meal came your academic and strategical studies. Your brain dulls into mush after countless hours of toiling over geography and the endless ways a person can kill someone. Although you still do well in a more scholar-like learning environment, your body greatly preferred the battlefield. You let out a sigh of happiness when you were allowed to stretch and start another round of sparring.
Keeping to your promise, you await as you lean into your training sword until Markus shows up in your vision again. He walks towards you with such unnerving confidence and a grin you think is permanently scribbled on his face.
“Are you ready, my lady?”
“Don’t patronize me.” You mumble. The two of you back away from each other to an appropriate distance before getting into your stances. Some people gather around the scene, which wasn’t uncommon for your battles. They want to make a spectacle of your fight.
When you rush forward towards Markus you get a good stab straight in his stomach. His reflexes seemed almost slow, or at least much slower than yours or Seulgi’s. He lets out a grunt, but the training armor and his natural durability keeps him on his feet. In an attempt to make you fall, he swings his sword arm directly downwards towards your back. You easily sidestep and continue a relentless sequence of parries and hard smacks against his arms and legs.
This continues on for minutes on minutes, much longer than the vast majority of your fights. Markus has proven himself to be a bad fighter, and the only reason you haven’t won yet is the fact that your sword wasn’t made to kill and the fact that Markus has stupidly good endurance. It’s hard for you to keep fighting. Not because you were lacking stamina but on account of the monotony of his moves started to bore you greatly.
Your mind wanders as you automatically parry Markus’ pathetic slashes without much thought. You recall how you have to go on a walk with Markus when he slips a slight grin, but after that you can go about your day and eventually spend the night with Seulgi. You think about how her smile looks in the moonlight, how her hair bounces as you move to a make-believe rhythm. You unconsciously put on a broad grin as you hope she teaches you something new tonight.
You’ve let your attention slip for too long though. When you get a grip on reality again, you realize that you’re now on the ground and Markus’ blade is descending on your body. Your reaction allows you to bring up your sword to his, a loud clang traveling through the air. With all your might you push back, trying to angle your sword so his would slide off and break free from contact. It seems like you may be able to fend off his weapon for a second, but he yells as he delivers all of his strength into pushing down on you.
The force is more than enough to make your sword lose contact with his. With the blade right on your throat he throws on a victorious expression and screams in happiness. The crowd around you softly murmur as they look at each other. Markus drinks in his win and he looks at everyone and then at you.
“You’ve gone soft on me, haven’t you?”
“What? What do you mean?” You try to brush the dirt off your back as you get up.
“I mean, why would you all of a sudden smile and let me win like that otherwise?” He chuckles with his words as he approaches you and places a hand on your back.
“I was just distracted.” You try to get away from him, but he gets closer and whispers in your ear.
“By me, right?” You hear a certain kind of joy and conceitedness in his voice that makes you want to vomit while simultaneously punching him.
“No. Now let's just get this walk done with so I can go shower or shoot my bow, or something.” At your words he shuffles away and uncomfortably leaves some space between the two of you as you go for a quick walk in the woods. Everybody watches as you two leave the area, and as you pass by you hear their whispers.
“…like him?”
“ …usually ruthless…why’d she let him win?”
“…was right…gone soft.”
You aren’t sure what to do about their theorizing or their mindless gossip, nor what to do with the man who was now clinging onto your side. What was usually a peaceful and quiet trail for you became loud and annoying as Markus kept trying to flirt despite your silence and lack of response to his remarks. It was hard to appreciate the beauty in the trees and forest life over the talkativeness of the man next to you. If you could, you wouldn’t have gone on a walk with him, but you felt like it was dishonorable of you to break an appointment or promise.
You think that next time you should bring Seulgi with you instead, it would be a pleasant experience then.
After what felt like a century of walking, you had finally looped around the trail and made it back to the beginning of the forest. You continue to trek forward and almost leave Markus behind, but he grips onto your waist and looks at you for a moment. The tinge of expectancy that gleamed in his eyes, and that's when you knew. You watch in a panic as he flutters his eyes and brings his lips to yours.
There’s a ringing in your ears from how hard you slap him.
“Don’t.” You say while walking away from him.
You decide that you should go to the shower to wash off his filth, then go to the archery range to practice shooting his face in your head.
**
It would be a lie to say you weren’t sore from the amount of work you forced upon your body today. As you hunker towards the barracks though, a sudden burst of energy renews the feelings in your limbs when you find Seulgi patiently awaiting you like always. The area clears out of people until it’s just you and Seulgi. She comes by your side to walk with you towards the field.
Your dance begins and you drink in the comfortable silence until Seulgi decided to speak.
“So, Markus, how do you feel about him?” There’s a sense of inquisitiveness that you haven’t heard from her before.
“Hm? He’s just a person.” She makes a face at your answer, scrunching her eyebrows as she pushes further,
“Really? You know, when I finished my practice match and walked around everybody was talking about the two of you… you know. How you’re a thing or something.”
“Just a misunderstanding.” You assert, but Seulgi seems to want to hear more.
“Do you not like him? What about anybody else? I feel like everybody is dying for your attention these days.” With the last sentence there’s a subtle shift to a sadder, even disgruntled tone in her voice. You watch as she bites her lip waiting for an answer, entranced enough to almost forget to reply. The insecurity was hard to ignore.
“I don’t really talk to anyone besides you, Seulgi, and I don’t know why people bother. Maybe they just respect my abilities and think now that I’m friendlier I’d be interested in a conversation. Also, you aren’t one to talk. You’ve had people following you around and worshipping you since day one.” Thinking about it, you can‘t ever remember a time where Seulgi didn’t have someone by her side.
Another wave of silence envelopes you as Seulgi finally nods, maybe settling with this answer. Or at least is mulling over your words. As she takes the time to think, you remember the events that happened earlier in the day and the question that had been bothering you.
“By the way, are you making me soft?”
You interrupt the dance you shared by taking a step back. You cock your head in examination. Recently it’s been hard to tell if Seulgi’s influence over you had been helpful or harmful. Especially since there were instances where you almost completely lost your focus like you did today.
“Where is this coming from?” She asks while putting on a confused smile, as if to say ‘excuse me?’.
“Well, obviously I’m more approachable now because of your advice, but now you’re getting in the way of my fighting.”
“Huh?” Seulgi is taken aback by your words and how you state them so matter-of-factly.
“Sometimes I lose focus in the middle of fights now. They accused me of becoming soft.”
“How can I possibly be at fault for that?”
“Well, it’s you that I think about. All the time.” You reach out for her hand, gently tugging it towards you and then onto your chest. “And you make my heart beat real fast. Faster than any running commandment has made us done. It kind of hurts my chest, really. Have you casted a spell on me too?”
You feel Seulgi’s hand tremble in a quake.
“Y/N, are you joking right now?”
“No, I just want to know, why do I feel like this all the time around you?” Looking at Seulgi’s face you spot how the tips of her ears turned a bright red, despite the darkness of the night. Your other hand pulls back her hair so you can examine it further. With a worried look you ask, “Oh, are you cold? Should we go back inside?” You panic a little as you see the pink had spread onto the rest of her face.
“You…” Seulgi’s breath has quickened, and she rescinds her hand from yours. You’re worried you’ve done something wrong as Seulgi refused to even look at you, instead she's staring at her feet. “You like me, stupid.” The dramatic atmosphere turns lighthearted as she laughs boisterously.
“Huh? Is that what this means?”
“Are you being serious with me?” Seulgi keeps laughing at you, much to your frustration.
“Yes! I am! I don’t understand! I’ve never felt this way before, that’s why I have to ask.” Your face lapses to a pout and that seems to encourage her to keep laughing at you.
“Hey, stop pouting!” Her laughing reduced to giggles as she walked closer to you. She brings her hands forward as they cup your face. Your knees feel weak, buckling at the warmth in her hands and the care they seemed to radiate. She finally calms down when she asks you, “Now, if you really like me then tell me," she sucks in a quick breath," would you like to kiss me right now?”
For a second you’re frozen, but soon enough you bashfully nod your head a little too hard.
Her lips reach yours and you instantly smile. The lips that you’ve stared at for hours, the ones that say the words that have moved you the most, the ones that curve adorably and ignites the dormant happiness within you. You stay that way for a moment that both felt like forever and like no time at all. Seulgi breaks away before kissing each of your cheeks.
“Oh,” she sighs while staring at you, “you’ve made me the happiest person in the world.”
#seulgi x reader#red velvet x reader#red velvet scenarios#red velvet imagines#rv seulgi#gg imagines#gg scenarios#kpop writing#kang seulgi#x reader#kpop au
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Christmas at Stark Cottage
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Reader (gender neutral)
Description: You and Stephen spend the first Christmas after the snap with Pepper, Morgan, Peter, May, Happy, and Rhodey. Even though you all miss Tony, he brought you all together.
Warnings: Might be emotional (has prompted tears from a few readers)
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: Originally posted to Qutoev for Christmas 2019 / Grammar updated
Part of my Dec 2020 Holiday One Shot Schedule/Master List
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
The Stark cottage was covered in a fresh blanket of snow, the cold wind and fluffy snowflakes blowing by as you and Stephen stepped through the portal and began to walk up to the porch and front door. The beautiful area dashed in white and the house decorated with bright lights and wreaths gave you the impression that this Christmas day would be an amazing one.
You kicked the snow off your boots and shook out your hair of snowflakes, Stephen following your actions as you both got under the dryness of the front porch. It was not snowing this much in the city so you did not expect to be bombarded with snowflakes. You reached forwards to knock on the door with your free hand, the other holding a plate stacked with your famous sugar cookies that were a hit every year. Stepping back to stand beside Stephen, you looked up at him and smiled. The happiness on your face made him crack a warm smile of his own.
This was the first Christmas since the blip, since Thanos was taken down and everyone that flew away as ash had returned. To Stephen, it was just another Christmas, but he knew you had a few without him and that brought a little sadness to his heart. You had told him that during those years you would spend Christmas day with the Stark family, making festive memories and teaching Morgan how to make your cookies. By the way you told the stories he knew you loved it, but deep down he could tell that with him gone it was missing something.
This morning he made sure to make you pleased, to make up for all those missed years without him. Christmas morning was just perfect. Just the two of you waking up in the Sanctum without a worry, exchanging the gifts you got each other and sharing a beautiful morning. You couldn't ask for a better Christmas, but it was just getting started.
Again you were invited for Christmas dinner with the Starks, a few more people attending alongside you this year. You brought along all the gifts you got everyone and were just waiting to step out of the cold and into the warmth of friends.
The door swung open, Pepper instantly greeting you with a big grin and a hug. She let you both in out of the freezing cold. The smell from the kitchen hit you, hinting to you the amazing meal Pepper always made every year. You saw that Happy, Rhodey, and May were already here and lounging in the living room, soon the house was full of greetings and wishing each other Merry Christmas.
Pepper took your plate of cookies, allowing you to take off your coat and boots. She admired how beautifully decorated they were. Then you could hear sets of footsteps running their way down the hallway followed by excited giggles.
"Uncle Stephen!" Morgan ran up to him and jumped on him before he got the chance to do anything else and gave him a big hug. He was occupied with carrying the bags of gifts you two had brought, so he put them down so he could kneel down to her height and hug her back.
While you smiled at the two, someone dashed up to you and hugged you as well. It was Peter who gave a cheery "Merry Christmas, (Y/N)!" as he threw his arms around you. You hugged him back, glad Pepper was now holding your plate of cookies. He might have knocked them right out of your hand.
"Whoa cool necklace!" Peter pointed to the pendant that was around your neck, instantly recognizing what it was. It was your present from Stephen, he had got a necklace made to look like the Eye of Agamotto, a golden eye with a little shining emerald in its centre.
"Thanks," You smiled, kissing the sweet boy on the cheek, "It's my gift from Stephen."
Peter then held up his fist towards Stephen, enthusiastically asking for a fist bump with a dumb grin on his face. Stephen playfully rolled his eyes and accepted before the teenager surprised him with a hug.
You looked down saw the little girl looking up at you with excited eyes. "Come here you!" Morgan leaped up onto you in a hug as you laughed and spun her around. Her adorable giggle made you want to keep squeezing her in hugs, but you put her down so she would not get dizzy. "Merry Christmas honey."
She looked like she was about to say something to you but she caught sight of the thing her mother was holding. "Cookies!" Morgan cheered at the sight of the plate you brought.
But Pepper held them up above her so she could not reach, "No, not till later."
Morgan pouted.
"Can I help with anything, Pepper?" You asked, helping Stephen to put your bags of gifts under the brightly coloured tree.
"I could use a little help with bringing the snacks and appetizers out, thank you (Y/N)."
"Does that involve (Y/N)'s cookies?"
"No Morgan."
~~~
"So I take the tank, fly it right up to the general's palace, drop it at his feet. I'm like 'Boom! You looking for this?'"
Stephen just looked at Rhodey. He then realized it was supposed to be funny, but it was not. Rhodey looked disappointed that he did not laugh, but Happy was laughing at Stephen's blank expression.
"Why does that story never hit anymore?" Rhodey mumbled into his glass as he took another drink.
"Well, how you became War Machine does sound like an adventure." Stephen tried to clear up the slight awkwardness as he smiled.
"He tells that one all the time." Happy said, "That line used to be funny-"
"Hey!"
Happy continued, "but it's gotten old."
"Okay Happy, that's enough." Rhodey tried to change the subject.
As if in answer to his prayers, it did as Peter and Morgan entered the living space, wearing their winter coasts and covered in scarves, hats, and mittens. Morgan was clearly missing one of her fuzzy socks and she was skittering around the room, looking on the rug and between the armchairs to find it.
"What are you two up to?" Stephen asked, giving Peter a look of curiosity.
"We're gonna go outside!" Peter replied, giving a smile like a six-year-old trapped in a teenager's body.
"I can't find my fuzzy sock!" Just then she found it by the Christmas tree and quickly put it on. "Found it! Okay, I'm ready!"
"But it's starting to turn into a blizzard out there." Happy pointed out.
"Well, we wanted to have a snowball fight," Peter whined.
"Snowball fight?" Rhodey asked, sounding intrigued. "Count me in!"
"Yay!" Morgan shouted.
Happy looked at the face Peter was giving him. Like the boy was trying to convince him to come too. He gave in. "Alright me too I guess."
"Stephen, come on you too." Rhodey encouraged.
The little girl hopped over to him, pulling at his sleeve. "Come on, uncle Stephen. Come play with us." He saw the excitement in her eyes, also the fact that her coat was a little too big for her body made her too cute to say no to.
Stephen looked at the bottom of his glass before shrugging and downing it in one swig. "Okay, wait for me."
Morgan and Peter cheered in content. The group all got on their winter gear and slipped outside into the cold snowfall for some fun.
~~~
You entered the living room to find it empty, swearing to yourself that you heard voices just a minute ago. There were half-empty glasses of drinks and eaten snack platters on the coffee table, signs of people but no one was there. You laughed a little but also wondering where everyone had gone so fast. Placing down a plate of finger sandwiches you were asked to put out, you straightened out a little of the messiness that had occurred since you last were out here.
Pepper and May were in the kitchen, starting to plate dishes and clean up with your help as dinner was going to be ready to serve soon. As you organized the coffee table, you noticed the roaring fire in the fireplace. The brightness called to you, you had to go and warm your hands near it afterwards. But while doing so something caught your attention.
There were a few framed pictures on the mantelpiece that instantly caught your eye. The first one was of Peter giving Morgan a piggyback ride, the smiles on their faces making it all the more wholesome. The next was one you took yourself and sent to Pepper. One of a candid picture of Morgan, Peter, and Stephen when you all went to an amusement park together, the carnival lights lighting up their laughter filled faces after Peter had dropped his ice cream cone down the front of his shirt. You were surprised she framed it, which made you feel really good.
The last one pulled a certain string in your heart. It was a picture that was taken a while ago. Near the beginning of those long five years of darkness. But this picture told you that it was not all darkness in those times. In it was a tiny Morgan, Pepper, you, and Tony having a picnic beside the lake. The memory of that day, the memory of Tony that day, came rushing back to you. You remembered Happy had taken that picture, right before Tony dragged him out to the lake to test out a little boat. Neither of them knew how to use a paddle as someone else was trying to do the same and ended up crashing the boat. You and Pepper laughed so hard when those two came back soaking wet in lake water, tiny Morgan just giggling as she did not know what was happening.
You huffed out a laugh at the memory as you looked at the picture. Then you thought about what it would be like if Tony were here now. Making everyone laugh and cracking remarks in between eating the snacks that were out. Constantly trying to get on Stephen's nerves on purpose. He would see how much Morgan has grown and just how much she has become like him.
You wondered if he was seeing you all now. His family, not just by blood but everyone in this house tonight, is still stuck together even without its glue.
The idea made your cheek twitch. You missed him so much. At that moment you realized that even with this being the first Christmas having Stephen back, it was also the first with having Tony gone. You told yourself you would not get sad about it as you returned to the kitchen.
"Everyone is just gone." You said, capturing the attention of the two others in the room.
"What?" Pepper exclaimed, looking up from spooning finished roasted carrots onto a dish.
"Yeah. I just heard talking in the living room a few minutes ago. Now it's empty."
"That's weird. I'm sure they haven't gone too far."
"Found them." May was leaning over the counter and looking out the window, a smile on her face. Pepper joined her, letting out a chuckle at what she was seeing.
You moved in between Pepper and May to glance out the window, and sure enough, there was a sight that made you smile widely. Outside in the backyard in the fresh and perfect snow, everyone was in the middle of an intense snowball fight. Snowballs were flying everywhere and the sounds of their faint laughter obstructed by the windows. The group did not seem to be bothered by the freezing cold or the continuous snowflakes that were becoming so large that were falling from the sky.
Stephen was cheating. He was using his magic to quickly form snowballs to help his teammate, Peter, attack the other team of Happy, Rhodey, and Morgan. You noticed how unfair it was that Stephen and Peter had the advantage of both of them having powers of some kind. But everyone looked like they were having fun regardless of the disadvantage some had. The smiles on their faces and their snow-covered winter clothes and their blushing cheeks from the cold made your heart warm.
Seeing them together, having all of you together, was something you would not trade anything for. To have this family together after so many years of being apart. And you had one person to thank for that. Sadly he was not here, but you knew in spirit he was.
Dinner was so close to being ready and the sun was getting low towards the horizon. You decided to call everyone in to warm up. They all came in, covered in snow and trembling from the cold. You, Pepper, and May helped the group shake the snow off their coats. Just to mess with you, Stephen grabbed your bare forearms and kissed you on the cheek; hands and lips freezing cold which caused you to jump back. He chuckled and threatened to do it again but you hopped out of his reach just in time. May started up a kettle to make hot chocolate for the snowball fight participants while you and Pepper worked on the finishing touches on a few dishes.
The whole family was in the kitchen, laughing and having a beautiful Christmas. The Stark family.
#doctor strange#doctor strange x reader#doctor strange fanfic#doctor strange fanfiction#stephen strange x reader#Stephen Strange#stephen strange x you#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#peter parker#morgan stark#pepper potts#marvel#happy hogan#rhodey#reader insert fanfiction#reader insert#marvel reader insert#tony stark#gender neutral reader#gender neutral imagine#gender neutral
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Because Hearts Get Broken - I Know That You’re Scared (Part 2/3)
Continuation of ‘Because Hearts Get Broken’ - see my masterlist for it :)
Synopsis: She’s trying to move on. He’s still hoping for a chance
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: angsty, bruh, but with a sprinkle of fluff and a hopeful (??) ending
Warnings: swearing, emotionally distant mindset... can’t think of anything else, really.
Word count: 3656
Heartbreak isn’t loud. Y/N doesn’t even know if it had a sound what it would be like. Like glass shattering against the ground? Or maybe like a book being ripped and shredded apart, memories of time spent together ruined. Or maybe it'd like the crackle of a fire, as it slowly but surely crept up and turned everything into charred remains before it became nothing but ash and was carried away by the winds.
No one in her family talked about feelings. If they did all they received back was ‘suck it up. That’s life’. After that, it was time to move on. So, when she got together with probably the most open-hearted person in the world, it was almost laughable.
Y/N had always been the friend others went for advice, relationship or not, but she herself never asked for one, simply because she didn’t wanna bother anyone. Not that she thought the others were bothers. It’s just having grown up in a household where emotions were basically suppressed, opening up was quite impossible.
Then came Harry. Perfect, impossible, loving, sweet, kind, ridiculously open Harry. God, she just wanted to punch him because no one should be that nice.
January 2nd, 2020 he’d called her up, having gotten Y/N’s number from Sarah (after ages of pleading, because as much as Sarah sometimes couldn’t handle drunk Y/N, she’d defend and protect her until the very last breath), and they set up a coffee date.
Slowly but surely, they spent more and more time together and seeing as her job had her based in LA for a while, visiting Harry was no problem. Then the pandemic hit, and on March 18th the whole stay-at-home order was issued in California.
Y/N was in a panic. She was meant to leave LA in ten days, and the hotel her company was paying for had been paid until the 28th. With all flights getting rapidly cancelled, she was scrambling to get one, but even her firm was unable to get her a seat. That’s when Harry had called up, his tone a worried, urgent mess as to if Y/N was alright and what her plans were.
Of course, him being him, he immediately offered her a place to stay.
“We don’t even need to stay in the same room, there’s like five other guest rooms you can take up,” he tried to joke, and ease her tension.
“Fuck, Harry, just rub it in how rich you are.” Y/N cackled, and when she heard him laugh in the background, her heart did that stupid fluttery thing she’d grown so used to.
It took a little persuasion from Harry’s side, and reassurance at least seven more times, that Y/N wouldn’t be intruding on his space, and he was more than happy to spend the quarantine with someone else, instead of being alone, and that in no way her taking over a room or two would limit him and his own artistic endeavours. So, apprehensively Y/N packed her suitcases, grabbed an uber, wearing a mask the whole time, and drove to Harry’s place.
When Y/N saw the gated community and the palace he was living in, the inside of her cheek was practically bitten in half. They’d barely been together for three months, and now she was basically moving in with him, but given how it was either live with Harry in a fucking mansion or walk across the country to New York, she took the first option.
As much as Harry loved on her, pretty much shagging her brains out every possible second, and loving on her until her cheeks hurt from smiling, the anxiety about the whole situation never left.
Harry was worried about his mom and sister, Y/N was scared of what was happening in New York. So, when the state boarders opened, immediately, although reluctantly, she flew back to her apartment and her dying plants, but never forgetting to FaceTime with Harry. But they couldn't stay away long from one another.
Which is why they decided, given how she was able to work from home now, and Harry could do so as well, they’d fly over to one another every two weeks, quarantine together for the next two weeks, and then fly to the other place. Her boss actually loved the idea that Y/N was so willing to go back and forth between the two cities, so all her flights were written off as business expenses, not to mention when she said she wouldn’t need a hotel, he was more than thrilled to let her be in LA whenever she wanted, as long as her work got done.
It seemed funny to her now, that before Y/N couldn’t wait to get back to the sunny state of Cali. Now when she had to fly over (which was just a couple of times since the breakup), going through JFK security made her sweat, and landing was a vomit-inducing action. And the last time she’d gotten back to the home-base state, she’d actually thrown up, Harry’s last words ringing in her ears.
It’d been three weeks since Sarah’s New Year party, and three weeks since she’d spoken to him although he still kept calling. Every morning she’d wake up to a couple of notifications of missed calls, and each time she’d listen to the messages; it was all the same – I miss your voice. And every time she’d listen to it, her thoughts were exactly the same. You could say it was almost pathetic as to how many times she’d listened to his albums, just to hear him sing. Almost like he used to do right before she fell asleep.
But Y/N had no one else but herself to blame for it. She’d been the one to call it quits, she’d been the one who walked out of his apartment, and the one who decided she wouldn’t fight.
Now, she was sat by her small magazine table, documents spread out in front of her as if a tornado had rolled through, while an apple and cinnamon candle spread its delicious scent through the air.
Y/N would only admit it once because, well, the proof was all over the apartment, but she was very lazy when it came to taking away the Christmas décor. It made her feel warm and comfy. And it reminded her of Harry. How when she’d woken up after their first date, already in the new year, he still had colourful fairy lights strung across the curtain rods, giving everything a soft, cosy glow.
He’d also been the one who convinced her that a real Christmas tree was so much better than a plastic one.
“Yes, it’s a hassle,” he’d said through slurred words as they’d slinked away from the partying crowd after the countdown was done, and each of them had taken three shots of vodka. “But it’s so worth it. Smells like a fucking forest in your room. Like proper Christmas!”
And although she’d spent this holiday season alone, Harry had been right. Just like he’d been right about Y/N.
She tapped her pen against the glass surface and readjusted her position on the floor.
“This is the periodic table, noble gases stable, halogens and alkali react aggressively,” Y/N hummed as she highlighted the incorrect parts of the paper in front of her. “Each period will see new outer shells, while electrons are added moving to the right.”
Just as she was about to start off the second verse, her doorbell rang, and her stomach gurgled in response.
“Ugh,” she groaned to herself. “Pasta come to fuckin’ mama.”
But when she opened the door, she wasn’t greeted by the Uber Eats delivery man.
“Harry.”
Y/N was taken aback. She didn’t expect him to visit her, especially not so soon and especially to fly out to New York (as much as he was most likely there to do other stuff as well, her gut told her he was there for her).
Sure, she hoped that one day they could be friends, if not acquaintances, he was too important of a person for her to lose completely from her life, but that was looking like five years into the future.
“I bring gifts.” He raised his hand where her boxes of food hung in a paper bag. “Can I?”
“Uh, yeah, of course!” She shook her head to clear it from the shock and allowed Harry to enter into the warmth of her apartment and escape from the cold January air.
“I was on my way up when the delivery man came in, and I recognised by the boxes it was yours.” The smirk on Harry’s face was something Y/N loved to see, but usually, she liked to also wipe it away. Preferably with her own lips.
She let out a small scoff, not waiting to see if he followed inside, as she scurried to the adjacent kitchen and grabbed two plates, while he opened up the white cardboard containers and allowed the delicious smell of spaghetti Bolognese as well as a carbonara waft into the air. Y/N had wanted to eat the latter at some point during the night when the munchies hit, but she supposed Harry was probably hungry as well. “Maybe there’s someone else here, who likes Italian.”
“Probably, but only you would order from the shittiest Italian restaurant just because they have pesto and parmesan bread.”
“Hey!” She slapped his arm. “They’re not shit. They provide me with everything I need – calories, carbs and bread.”
“What more does a person need?”
“Exactly!”
Both of them let out small chuckles and then settled down on her couch to dig into the meal. They ate in silence, and despite Y/N’s initial shock, it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, they were sitting pretty much shoulder to shoulder, as she watched Harry re-read the spread-out articles on the table and use her marker to tick some stuff that could use re-wording. He had a knack for words, after all.
“I uh…” He wiped his mouth with one of the napkins provided by the diner before clasping his fingers together and looking at the woman sitting next to him, as she slowly set her empty plate on the small cupboard beside the sofa. “I was hoping we could talk.”
Y/N hung her head. She should’ve known he wasn’t here to just check-in and have some dinner. “We already did. Twice might I add. What makes you think this time the ending will be different?”
“Third times the charm?” Harry let out a little laugh, and she rolled her eyes. “Look, I didn’t wanna leave everything the way I did. I – I said some pretty shit things.”
Y/N fiddled with her thumb. ‘I had,’ Harry’s words echoed in her head. ‘Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.’ “Nothing that was untrue though.”
“See, that’s where I think both of us are wrong.”
That was not what Y/N thought this conversation would be whatsoever.
“I – “ He cleared his throat. “I know I said I didn’t think you trusted me that I loved you enough. I think you know I did – do.”
If Y/N still had any food in her mouth she would’ve choked on it, as she bit back the rising lump in her throat, but instead of interrupting him, she let Harry continue. “And honestly, it’s not your fault that it fell apart, ‘s my fault too. I pushed you to do something, you didn’t want to, weren’t comfortable with, when you told me not to… just because I wanted to feel important, ‘nd because I wanted to get a role in your life you weren’t ready for yet. And I’m sorry for doing that. I should’ve never forced you.”
“Harry…” Y/N was at a complete loss. “I – I don’t really know what to say.”
He took her left hand in his and clasped it, finally able to properly say what'd been eating away at him. “During the New Year party, I didn’t go about it the right way. I was just – I was just still so hurt, and I wanted you to hurt the same because… it didn’t seem like you cared at all, which I know you did… I know you loved me, and…” He took in a deep breath. “I hope that you still do. At least enough to give us another chance. We can take it at your pace,” he instantly added, knowing how she’d react, expecting the sigh and the almost tired and resigned ‘Harry’ that escaped her lips. But he’d say everything on his mind. “You can take how long you need to feel like you can trust me with what’s bothering you.”
“Harry,” she repeated, but it didn’t seem like he was about to stop.
“But I think we can do it, and we can do it right this time. We know where we stand, we won't make the same mistakes.”
Y/N’s hand came to rest against his cheek, and he practically melted, engulfing her palm with his as to not let her touch leave his skin for even a second. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
“Look, I know, you’re scared, and the thing is, so am I. I don’t want it to end like that or end. Period. But I do want to try again.”
And if nothing but to humour him Y/N asked, “And if it does end the same way?”
“It won’t.” He was so sure of it, she had to laugh.
“Harry, the big difference between us is – you like to talk about your feelings. You like to go through them and stuff. I don’t. I feel… icky when I even think about talking to someone of what I feel. We’re just too opposite.”
“Opposites attract.”
“No,” she pointed a finger at him, stifling her laughter, though Harry seemed not to be hiding his smile. “Do not use science against me.”
He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I’m not, I’m just supporting my point with facts. Scientific facts, that you can’t argue against.”
“I mean…” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno… Maybe it was a good thing we ended it when we did. It was ten months – almost ten – amazing months, but… can you imagine if we’d gone so far as to think about moving in together, and then it fell apart? That would’ve been a whole different kind of a mess.”
“Do you love me?”
Y/N sighed, resting her cheek against the couch while she smoothed away his brown locks from his face. “Of course, I do. Don’t think there will be a time in my life I don’t.”
“Then that’s all I need.”
“Is that really enough for you?”
“Yes.”
And there was no lie in that single word. Did he want for Y/N to feel comfortable enough with him that she talked about whatever concerned her, however small? Of course. But he also wanted her to be comfortable enough to be herself. If that meant her keeping things to herself, and trusting Harry to support her decisions, it’d be enough.
Her Y/E/C eyes hadn’t left his green ones, and they only widened as he leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to hers.
“Haz…”
Fuck, how he’d missed her calling him that. It wasn’t an exclusive nickname by any means, but when it came from Y/N’s mouth, it was the sweetest sound in the universe.
He was her Haz when he broke a plate, he was her Haz when she threw her head back as pleasure exploded through her body, he was her Haz when he took her hand in his to quell her anxiety, and he was her Haz when he gave her tissues as they watched a movie, and she couldn’t help but cry each time a dog or cat died (or a dragon, but he was a sobbing mess as well because ‘Dragonheart’ messed with them both).
His lips were so close, and just as they skimmed over her own, Y/N’s phone rang making her physically spring back, eyes like saucers.
“S – Sorry,” she stammered, scrambling to find the annoying device between the cushions. It was Sarah’s name that lit up her screen.
“Hey, what’s up?” Y/N started, voice trembling and shaky. God, when had she suddenly gone so out of breath? And why was her head so dizzy, as if she’d just gotten off a rollercoaster?
“Yeah, he’s here,” she replied, eyeing Harry. “Yeah, just a sec,” and Y/N handed him her phone with a quiet ‘why’s your phone always dead?’
‘Didn’t know it died’, he said, but that was untrue. He’d turned it off so this sort of a situation wouldn’t happen; so a call or text wouldn’t interrupt him at the most critical moment. He had to give the universe a proper talk once he was done.
“ ‘Ello?”
Seconds of silence passed, and Y/N didn’t like how weird it was, so she took the empty plates and put them in the sink to soak.
“Now?”
She could see the frustration rise in Harry as his forehead creased, and he let a hand rake through his hair. “Fuck’s sake… yeah, I’ll be there in ten. ‘S alright,” he sighed. “Not your fault Sarah. Tell Jeff not to worry, and that I’m not dead.”
With that, he pressed the red button and ended the call, drumming his fingers against the screen. God, he really didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not after he’d been so close.
“Uh, work?” Y/N asked, arms crossed in front of her as if she was protecting herself from the answer.
“Yeah, sorry. I uh a meeting from tomorrow got rescheduled for tonight, like right now because there was some sort of an emergency from the label’s side."
“ ‘S alright, I get it. Showbiz never stops.” Y/N motioned to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”
There were a couple of times in his life Harry wanted to give himself a beating. Once when he was six and Gemma had told on him after he’d broken a favourite vase of their mothers, he decided to get revenge and destroy her favourite plushie. He’d never forget the tears Gem had cried, and how absolutely heartbroken she’d sounded. He vowed although he was the little brother, to never ever let anyone hurt her like that, and if someone did, they’d meet their maker sooner rather than later.
The second time was when he was still a teenager, One Direction on the rise, and it had gotten to his head just a little bit more than it should’ve. He’d gotten really messed up at a party (which Harry shouldn’t have even been at). The disappointment on his mother’s face as she scolded him through FaceTime was gut-wrenching enough to make him promise to always know the limit.
And Harry guessed this was the third time.
He could’ve said no to the meeting. Jeff was there and so was Sarah and Mitch. The three of them could handle it for him. It’s not like he would mind much whatever they came up with if it had given him the time to settle things with Y/N.
“It was great to see you, Harry.” She brought him out from the thoughts as she unlocked the door and opened it for him, bringing her jumper sleeves over her palms to hide from the cold outside air. “Really. I – I missed you, and honestly, I’m glad we got to talk. I uh well, take care. And say hi to Sarah from me please.”
“I – “ he took hold of Y/N’s wrist before she could turn away. “I’m holding a small concert in a week. Here in uh in New York. It’s for charity… I want you to come.”
“I umm… I’ll have to check if I’m free, but yeah. I will. Thank you.”
“ ‘S no problem… Sarah missed you like crazy now that you’re not in LA as often… ‘n yeah. Anyway. I’ll put your name on the guest list, so just bring some ID, and they’ll let you backstage.”
“Okay,” she whispered and gave him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll really try to come.”
“Yeah.”
And he was going to go without doing anything else. Harry truly was. But as he released her wrist, going to the stairs, he gave Y/N one last glance back, and it was like his feet had a mind of their own, as they carried him back to where she stood by the still open door, grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips to hers.
He expected Y/N to push him away, but to his very huge delight, she didn’t. Instead, her fingers wove through his hair and her legs almost on instinct rose so he could take her by the thighs, wrap them around his middle and press her against the doorway.
The groan that Harry swallowed from Y/N only ignited the fire that’d been burning ever since he met her, but it wasn’t the destructive kind, like the ones that leave nothing but charcoal behind. It was warm. Safe. Like the light of a fairy light. Like the embrace of home.
“Come to the show,” he muttered against Y/N’s lips, as they broke apart, and he set her down on the ground, not letting go until he was sure she was steady on her feet. “I’ll wait for you.”
With that, he left because if he didn’t, he’d make sure Y/N would be unable to walk for a week.
And Y/N watched him retreat while her brain fought with her heart.
What was it he’d sung in ‘Golden’, as he’d twirled her in the sea of bodies and glitter a little bit more than a year ago? ‘Loving is the antidote?’
Maybe love was the antidote to her fear.
She closed the door.
And smiled.
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished
Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland
A/N: I’ve been listening to ‘Fine Line’, ‘The Periodic Table Song’, ‘Welcome to the Christmas Parade’ (Welcome to the Black Parade mix with All I Want For Christmas) and ‘Rasputin’ Boney M remix exclusively... I feel like a complete crackhead... :D
Decided to tag also those who wanted a part 2 but didn’t necessarily ask to be tagged :)
P.S. I guess there will be a part 3???
P.S.S. if you wanna be added to a tag list drop me a message :)
#Harry Styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles fandom#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x you#golden#fine line#one direction#one direction imagine#1d#1d fan fiction#harry styles angst#harry styles and y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles and you#harry styles and reader
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