#and I’ve been in a funk about it ever since I got home

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Boyfriend!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : angst ; Hyunjin is just sad (which is honestly relatable) ; reader thinks they're pregnant ; reader might be pregnant ; symptoms of pregnancy ; fluff ending ; Word Count : 2.0k Request : Annony : Can I request and angsty fic Where Hyunjin has just been going through a really rough time and y/n tries her best to be there for him and keeps waiting for the right time to tell him she thinks she’s pregnant. He just keeps crying and he doesn’t know why he’s so sad, but slowly he gets out of it a bit. One morning he wakes up because y/n is having morning sickness and showing other symptoms so she has no choice but to finally open up and tell him everything. They take a test and well…I’ll let you take creative control after this. I’m really excited I’ve thought this request through a lot and I hope you decide to write it

“Hey, you okay?” Your coworker asked as she walked into the breakroom. Your head had been resting against the table, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you tried to count your breaths. “Feeling dizzy again?” She asked when you didn’t answer her first question, and you gave her weak thumbs up in response. “Maybe you are… you know… the p word.” She whispered, and it’s not like it was a bad word to say, it’s just that you didn’t want anyone else that you worked with to know. 

“I’m too nervous to test…” You mumbled, and she knew exactly why. She was your only confidant at this point, especially since Hyunjin was going through his own personal problems. You didn’t want to stack anything else on top of whatever else was bothering him. All you did know was that, no matter how much you tried to help him or console him, he’d be right back to crying soon after. “Plus, it would be too soon… I don’t want to test too early or anything…” 

To be honest, home life wasn’t really the best right now. It’s not that there were any arguments, there was no fighting, but it was obvious that Hyunjin was stressed about something, and you were mentally stressed about potentially being pregnant, so the last thing you needed was triple the stress for both of you if a test came out positive. Even just thinking about it felt like too much right now.  

“Well you can’t wait forever. I mean… With his job, he gets stressed very easily. What are you gonna do? You can’t just hide potentially important things from him every time he gets upset or stressed out.” You rolled your eyes at your coworkers' sudden nagging, and while you knew that it came from a place of concern and care, you didn’t need that right now. You didn’t need to be parented, you needed someone to just be there for you. 

“He doesn’t get stressed easily, and you make it sound like he’s like this all the time. I’m not hiding things from him either, I’m giving him time to get in the right place mentally before dropping something like this on him.” You quickly defended your boyfriend, silently wishing that you hadn’t told your coworker anything at all. “He’s a good boyfriend, and just because he gets stressed and upset sometimes doesn’t change that.”

“I’m not saying that he’s not a good boyfriend for you… I just feel like you cater to him and his feelings a lot because of his job and your feelings get pushed to the backburner.” She tried to explain, but she couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“I’m not having this conversation right now. I appreciate you caring and trying to look out for me, but my relationship is fine. He’s a great guy… Okay? I have to get back to work now, enjoy your break.” 

///

Hyunjins moment seemed to last longer and longer. He’d lock himself in his room the moment he walked through the front door and you’d hear him cry for hours until things went silent, and the only reason things got quiet is because he’d cry himself to sleep. There was nothing you could do to help him because he wouldn’t even talk to you about it, and a part of you wondered if he’d ever get out of the funk he was in. 

With the time that passed, the symptoms only grew stronger. Your headaches were getting worse, the nausea was almost unbearable, even your boobs hurt. You wanted to excuse it as reading into the symptoms too much, you thought that your mind was playing tricks on you. You wanted to find any reason you could to hold off on testing until Hyunjin got better because you didn’t want to be alone when you found out, no matter what the result was. 

When Hyunjin was around, you tried to hide the symptoms from him. If you started feeling sick, you’d quickly go off to the bathroom and turn on the sink, hoping that you wouldn’t actually start throwing up. The tiredness that you felt was written off as working too many hours and being on your feet too long. Luckily he was none the wiser to the soreness in your breasts because you hadn’t been with him in any physical way since he had been in his funk. You missed him, and you wanted to blame the potentially surging hormones for the tears that would be shed when you’d lay in the same bed beside him at night without a single kiss or those three words that would make you feel like he did still love you. 

The longer it lasted, the more you would think about what your coworker had said. No matter how much you tried to get those words out of your head, they would constantly pop up. When you would hear him crying in the room and you’d try to help him, but it was like he was shutting you out. Not only did it feel like he was pushing you away, but it felt like you were by yourself. He wasn’t the only one going through something right now, and you wanted so badly to tell him, but for some reason you were trying so hard to protect him that you weren’t even worried about yourself. 

Even still, you didn’t want to give up on him. You loved him, and you truly believed that he just needed time, that he’d get better sooner or later, and no matter what, you’d stick by him, even if it meant pushing your own stresses, your own worries to the side until he got better. 

///

He was starting to feel better, he really was. It had been a week since the last time he had cried, and while he still doesn’t fully understand himself why things had gotten so bad or why he was so upset, he was thankful that he had you by his side the entire time, even if it didn’t seem that way. He wanted to take you out today, to show you that he appreciated you and everything that you do for him. He wanted to show you that he truly does love you, and that he’s grateful that you didn’t give up on him through this entire thing. 

The bed was already empty, which wasn’t rare as of lately considering he always seemed to sleep in, but one look at the clock on the bedside table made him fully aware that it was too early for even you to be awake. He could have sworn you came to bed last night, that he had felt the warmth of your body beside him underneath the covers. Had you gone to the couch at some point in the middle of the night? Were you finally pulling away? 

Just as he was pushing the comforter off of his body, he heard what sounded like gagging and choking and he never moved so fast in his life. Tripping over his own feet, he rushed into the bathroom to find you doubled over the toilet, sweat beading up on your forehead and spit dribbling down from the corner of your mouth. It’s like you didn’t even realize he was there, or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge him as you tried your best to seemingly catch your breath. 

“Baby… What’s wrong?” He whispered, kneeling down beside you to try to get you to look at him, but you only shook your head, pushing yourself up to your feet with the help of the side of the bathtub, leaving him on the floor and even more worried than before. “Are you mad at me? I’m sorry… Do you want me to leave you alone?” 

“No…” You said, your voice slightly raspy, and he could only assume that it was because of getting sick, but you sounded so tired too. He didn’t know how sick you were, he didn’t know what was going on or how long you had been feeling like this, but he wanted to be there for you now, no matter what was wrong. “I think… I might be pregnant…” Your head lowered, as if you were ashamed to be telling him that, although he wasn’t sure why. 

Of course, he wasn’t ready to be told something like that, he was sure that no man was ever truly ready to hear that, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t ready to step up and be the man that you and his potential child would need. “Okay… Well, I can run to the store and pick up some tests and we can find out if you are…” 

“I… Already have the tests. They’re in my purse…” You admitted and he nodded along slowly, trying not to get too upset that you had potentially been going through this for longer than he thought. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay first. I didn’t want to do this alone…” Alone… He had left you all alone to deal with these worries and these thoughts and these fears. “You… You are okay… Right?” 

His head nodded swiftly, his eyes that were brimming with tears of guilt glistened in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. “I am… I’m okay. You’re not alone, I’m here and no matter what happens… I’m going to stay here with you. I love you…” He finally got up off the floor, scrambling to his feet just to stand in front of you, his eyes finally meeting yours for what felt like the first time. “You have nothing to worry about… I’ll always be here… I promise.” 

///

“Out of the way! Out of the way! Move it! Excuse us! Make room! Pregnant girlfriend coming through!” Hyunjin shouted as he walked with you down the halls of the JYPE building. He was so loud, you were sure that even the people the next floor up could hear him coming, he was like a damn fire truck with its sirens on. You rolled your eyes at the rambunctiousness of it all. “What? I just don’t want anyone to bump into you or anything. I’m trying to keep you and baby Jinnie safe.” 

Your eyebrows arched at the little nickname that he had given the baby, you hadn’t heard him say it before. You had had an ultrasound the day before, and the doctor had asked if you wanted to know the gender of the baby, but you and Hyunjin had both agreed to keeping it a secret until the birth. “Baby Jinnie, huh? Where’d you come up with that name?” You quizzed, wondering if maybe his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had just asked the doctor what the baby would be on his way out of the exam room. 

“Isn’t that what they do for sons in America? People name the baby boys after their father? He can be little Jinnie Jr. right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you. His arms were wrapped protectively around you as you rode the elevator up to the right floor, and as cute and innocent as he looked right now, you couldn’t help but be a little suspicious. 

“Hmm… A son? Are we having a boy?” His lips were drawn in, turning into a thin line and you could read the guiltiness on his face. He nodded his head slowly, clearly trying to read your reaction after having basically spoiled the surprise. “You just couldn’t wait to find out, could you?” You teased, and he let out a little sigh of relief when he realized that you weren’t angry. How could you be angry though? He wanted to know and you weren’t going to get mad at him for finding out. 

“Maybe we can do like… A baby shower, and a surprise gender reveal for everyone else!” He proposed the idea, and he sounded so excited, there was no way that you could turn him down, plus it sounded like fun. “The guys really want to know whether they’re getting a niece or a nephew, they’re gonna be so happy to find out!” He had been talking so loudly on the elevator, but once the doors slid open, his voice dropped to a whisper, his lips lingering right beside your ear. “This is our secret though, don’t tell them.” 

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[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

Hiiiii there! I really liked your Meltdown one shot! It made me think about Save My Life and if you wanted could you write something about that song? I had an idea but you don't have to do it. But what if Niall is having a hard time after 1D break up and when he meets y/n she basically gives him the motivation and encouragement to write his own songs and have a solo career?? Only if you want to do that or even write it.

Thank you so much lovely!!! That means so much!!!🥹 I hope this is everything you hoped for! I do try when writing for this precious baby.

Save My Life

Niall Horan x Reader

Summary- Niall was depressed. He was lacking motivation and he wasn’t sure what to do anymore. But one day, he meets someone who just might save him.

(Wrote this in Niall’s pov so I hope it’s okay!)

Niall’s POV

January 2016, London

It had been a long couple months since we agreed to take a hiatus, and the boys all got to work on their own thing. But me? I don’t even know where to start… It came so easy to me before and now? I can’t even think.

I decided to get out for a bit, and visit a new pub Harry had been telling me about. I decide to take a walk there, needing the fresh air after being trapped inside in an attempt to write.

I enter the almost empty pub and I’m greeted by the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. She smiles at me and my stomach fills with butterflies, something that hasn’t happened in a very long time.

“Hey! What can I get for you?”

I smile and take a seat across from her at the bar.

“Just a pint of Guinness, please.”

She smiles and makes it quickly before she slides it over to me.

“Would you like to start a tab?”

I think about it for a second before nodding.

“Yeah I think so. But shouldn’t you check my ID?”

She giggles and shakes her head before giving me a smile.

“No need. I know who you are, Niall. I know you’re old enough. But not like in a bad way because you’re not old-I mean not that I have a problem with older people but…Sorry I’m just rambling now.”

I laugh and shake my head.

“No worries. I appreciate it. What was your name? I don’t think I caught it.”

She smiles and her eyes glow in the light.

“That would be because I never gave it to you. It’s Y/N.”

I tilt a pretend hat and she lets out another beautiful laugh.

“So what’s a girl like you doing working here, Y/N?”

She dries another glass as she looks back at me.

“Just putting myself through school. Going to school overseas isn’t cheap and I’ve got aspirations in life. What about you, Mr. Pop star? Surely you’ve got plenty going on but yet you’re in a bar by yourself on a Wednesday night.”

I let out a sigh and I grip my glass with both hands.

“I guess it’s just been hard since the band went on hiatus. The boys are starting to all branch out and do their own things and I… don’t know. I’ve got so much pent up creativity and no idea how to get it out.”

She nods and puts her rag down before she leans on her elbows and looks at me.

“So you’re in a creative funk and you’re unsure if you can actually do it? Here’s my advice. Don’t compare yourself to others. You’re your own person, Niall. Not Harry, not Louis, you’re Niall. And that is enough. Do what feels right.”

I smile a little and nod.

“Are you in school to be a therapist, Y/N? You’d make a great one.”

She laughs and shakes her head.

“Actually, I want to be a writer. But for now, bartending keeps a roof over my head. I’m glad to be of help though. Got some inspiration ?”

I nod with a big smile. I finish my drink and slide a few pounds to her.

“Thanks Y/N. I think I should get to it before I lose the lightbulb!”

She nods and waves. Her smile is the last thing I see before I turn my back to her and I’m out the door, heading home.

October 19th, 2017

I storm into the pub, as usual, but this time, I’m not as calm as I usually am.

“Y/N! Y/N, you have to help me! I’m freaking out!”

She raises a brow and sets down her rag as I walk up to the counter.

“Niall? What’s wrong? Why do you look so upset? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your listening party?”

I shake my head and place my hands on the counter,

“I can’t. I’m freaking out! They’re gonna hate it! I’m gonna fail and it’s-.”

She places her hands on my shoulders and it grabs my attention.

“Calm down. You’re gonna do great! Your music is so unique, Niall. No one could be like you. You are one of a kind, Niall Horan. Your fans are going to love your album just as much as they love you. So don’t worry, okay? It’ll be great.”

I let out a sigh and I give her a small smile.

“Would you… Would you come with me? I- I really want you to be there…”

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops.

“A-Are you sure? I don’t want to impose-.”

I smile and shake my head.

“I want you there, Y/N. You’re my friend. Of course I want you there!”

She sighs and I smile, pulling her around the pub and out the door before she can argue.

>>>———————->

August 2018

I’m finally home from tour, or at least back in London, and the first place I go is the pub. As soon as I walk in, Y/N’s eyes train on me immediately. Her eyes light up and she runs through the empty room and pounces on me, hugging me tight.

“Niall! Oh my god! You’re back!”

I smile and nod, hugging her right before pulling away.

“I missed you, Y/N. I really did. Talking on the phone wasn’t enough…”

She looks at me confused and I let out a sigh.

“Y/N… I have feelings for you. I’ve never felt this way before… With anyone. I-I think I love you. A-And I understand if you don’t feel the same but-.”

Before I can say anything else, she cuts me off and surprised me with a kiss. I melt into her touch, pulling her closer to me as our lips move in sync until she finally pulls away with a smile.

“I love you, Niall. I feel the exact same.”

I hug her tight and hold her close, afraid to let go.

>>>——————->

March 22nd, 2020

I hear the front door open as I slump on the couch in the living room of my London home. Y/N comes in, a worried expression on her face.

“Niall…”

I hold my arms open to her and she climbs in my lap, laying her head on my chest. She lays her legs across my lap and I instinctively wrap my arms around her.

“They had to let me go… A-And your album! You were gonna tour with Lewis! A-And now-.”

I let out a small fry as I hold her close, running my fingers through her hair.

“I-I know, Petal. But it’ll be okay… I hope… You’ll move in with me. We’ll quarantine together. That way you can focus on school and you won’t have to look for another job. Okay? Does… Does that sound okay?”

She’s quiet for a minute before she nods against my chest. Things were rough, but at least I had her.

>>>——————->

June 2020

I sit at the piano, agonizingly as I attempt to be productive. Quiet patter of feet echos through the house until I feel someone sit next to me on the bench. Y/N. I turn my attention to her and she runs her fingers through my hair.

“You okay? I could hear you dropping f bombs all the way from our room.”

I sigh and shake my head.

“I-I’m frustrated, Y/N. I’m tired of this… I didn’t get to tour and I just- I don’t know… The most I can do is go live on Instagram… that’s not exactly a concert…”

She kisses my cheek and I sigh again.

“You’ll be able to put in your show, I promise. You’re doing what you can right now and that’s all we can do, babe. It’ll come to you. But you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be here. Every step.”

I smile and peck her lips.

“I think you saved my life, Y/N. And you do every day.”

She pecks my lips a few times and loops an arm through mine.

“And you saved mine.”

The next day

I find myself back at the piano and for the first time since lockdown started… I feel inspired. Extremely inspired. I want to write a show.

>>>————————->

January 2023

“Please Niall? You said you finished it! I want to listen! I love your music! You know I do!”

I laugh and shake my head as Y/N clings to me with a pout.

“I’m sorry Petal, but I can’t do that. You’ll just have to wait like everyone else.”

She puts more and lets me go, folding her arms across her chest as she slumps on our bed.

“I should write a column on boyfriends keeping secrets from their girlfriends. I’ll get a lot of hits since YOU’RE KEEPING IT A SECRET FROM ME.”

I laugh and shake my head as I take my place next to her on the bed, taking her hand in mine.

“I promise, it will be worth the wait. Can you do that for me, Y/N? Just hold on a little longer. 5 months then it’s all yours.”

She sighs and squeezes my hand, giving me a small smile.

>>>———————->

June 9th, 2023

“Niall, please? It’s the release day! I just want to listen to it! I’ve only heard the bits you’ve teased!”

I laugh and shake my head, taking a seat next to her on the couch as I pull an AirPod out of the case and I place it in her ear.

“You can listen but I want you to listen to this one first. This album… I’m so proud of this one. This is everything I’ve ever wanted to make. And it’s all thanks to you. This is save my life.”

I hit play on my phone and she smiles as it begins to play.

Eyes are bloomin'

The floor is shakin'

Walls are movin'

Feelings changin' now

So, I'm rolling through it

Like I'm floatin' ten feet above the ground

As you float up to me

I just gotta tell you now

Ever since you walked in

I'm seein' a new light

Ever since you walked in

It's startin' to feel like

You might save my life

She tears up as she listens and before it’s over, I pull out the AirPod, much to her protest.

“Niall! I was-.”

I pull her into my arms and place my lips on hers, pecking her lips a few times before I whisper to her.

“You saved my life.”

She smiles and pecks my lips, cuddling up in my arms. I was lost before I met her. But she saved my life.

>>>—————————->

I hope that was okay! Thank you for requesting!!!! Please like and reblog! Let me know what you thought!

Please fill free to check out the rest of my writing!

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[apex-academy]

Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#8b)

Kanagi chucks what I think is a roll of athletic tape into an open drawer. From across the room.

“Not sure how many points that should be, but you got them.”

She blinks, then looks at me, then back at the drawer, then down at her hands.

“You’re aware you threw something, right?”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, that totes makes sense.”

“.........” 

Was that genuinely just on instinct? Pretty sure I don’t go around ricocheting everyday objects unconsciously, but I guess I wouldn’t know, huh?

In any case, she steps over to slide the drawer shut, then hops to sit on the counter directly above it. Not sure why, since she only just keeps from smacking her head on a high cabinet. But some mysteries aren’t meant to be solved.

Kanagi in general isn’t meant to be solved.

“So, ‘sup?”

Even if she’s pretty low on the suspect list, there’s no need to tell her I was headed for that file cabinet. “Just wandering.”

“Cool, cool.”

“Yo, you up for some volleyball?”

“Well...”

“You know what? Sure.” I nearly say I might not get the chance again, but that’s a little directly morbid, I think.

“Just... go easy on me. Really easy.”

“I’ll do what I can, dude!” 

“Like, no promises, though.”

Great.

We head to her study hall. Seems like she’s in a good mood despite whatever was going on with Aidan a second ago. Not sure if that’s better or worse for her competitive spirit.

But we play some kind of volleyball game. I don’t have the reflexes to compete with a professional, but at least she doesn’t inflict any lasting bodily harm. My hands might be a little bruised in the morning, though.

“What, had enough already? Keken~”

"We can still hang out, but I need a water break.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Once I’ve caught my breath, I still don’t know what to talk about. Most of my other chats with Kanagi have been... Well. Weird enough to be with Kanagi.

“So, you’ve had a pretty strange life, huh?”

“Huh?”

“You know, accidentally getting smuggled into another country, and all that...”

“Nah, that can’t be that weird.”

“No?”

“I mean, like...”

She shrugs.

“I got two parents, went to school, had some vacays, played sports. Like, all p normal.”

“Overall, sure.”

“Just had a lot of incidents sprinkled into that ordinary life.”

“Well, yeah. Like, it wouldn’t be normal if it was just normal, y’know?”

“Not sure that I do.”

“I mean, this part totally isn’t normal. Even for the normaling un-normal part.”

I’m not even gonna try.

“But, like, here we are, I guess.”

“Yeah...”

“How’s your ankle holding up?”

“Uhhhh.”

She looks down at her bare feet and wriggles her toes.

“Like, which one?”

“Either, I guess.”

“Eh, they’re both good, I think.”

Then why ask which one?

“Did I ever ask what happened to injure your right one?”

“Dude, I can’t keep track of our conversations for crap.”

“Fair enough.”

“ ‘s, like, nothing super exciting, though? Just funked up a slide into home base.”

“Softball?”

“No way, dude! Baseball’s where it’s at.”

“Is that one of the sports you had to dress up as a guy for?”

Uh, wait. If I got that from her student file, then I’m not really supposed to know about it, am I?

“Yup!”

Well, she doesn’t seem suspicious, at least. The benefits of not remembering all your conversations.

“Totes almost blew my cover with all that, too. Woulda sucked majorly.”

“Buuuut instead I just...”

“...”

“Like, actually, the ankle thing by itself kinda sucks, too.”

“Yeah...”

“Were you more careful after that? As far as playing too hard.”

“No way, dude!”

“No?” I’m somehow both surprised and not at the same time.

“I mean, like, the thing is that I won’t be able to play much if I hurt my ankle, right?”

“Right...”

“So if I don’t play as much so I don’t hurt my ankle, then, like...”

“I’d p much just be skipping straight past the ‘getting hurt’ part to the worst part!”

“Totally no point playing it safe so you, like... don’t gotta play it safe.”

“Makes absolutely zero sense, my dude.”

“I guess so.”

“It’s more important to actually do what you love than hope you’ll be able to do it later? Basically?”

“Sure, that sounds right.”

“...Lotsa people not getting ‘later’s around here.”

“Yeah...”

“...”

“Sooooo, wanna play another round, like, not-later?”

“You mean now?”

“Thaaaat would be the opposite of ‘later,’ yeah.”

Not wrong.

“If you don’t mind a terrible performance on my part, sure.”

“Totally works for me!”

“Not like it was ever a fair game. Keken!”

Time for another round of sports brutality, I guess. But...

Even if there’s some kind of delayed-gratification caveat here... There’s no point delaying so long you never actually get to enjoy it, right?

And that’s far too real a possibility here. We’d best take advantage of what time we do have.

Even if it means more abject humiliation at a sport I can only somewhat play. Here goes, I guess.

[BACK]

#apexplot #apex6 #kanagifte

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 5 - What You Won’t Do

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x Female!OC

Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn’t help but notice how familiar he was.

18+ | 1.5kish Words | Third-person omniscient | Dark?fic/Angst | AU/AT |

Warnings: Heavy language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Mention of childhood physical, and emotional abuse, brief mention of a gun, mention of smutty events, lots of angsty misunderstanding, L-bombs, everyone’s depressed and mad at each other

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings. I wrote this entirely as a trauma dump.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter list

"I guess you wonder where I've been I searched to find a love within I came back to let you know Got a thing for you and I can't let go" -"What You Won't Do For Love" by Bobby Caldwell

 In times like these, Marc and Steven hated being a singular body. Steven manned the body nearly every waking moment since Marc's fight with Simone. Marc didn't question it, didn't come out to speak, nothing. Just stayed in the corner of their brain, feeling unwanted. 

Meanwhile, Steven checked the phone every hour, wondering if he had missed a call from Simone. 

Give it a break, man. Marc thought. 

Though he refused to admit it, Marc felt insecure. He thought for sure that she would recognize him sooner. He imagined it happening differently, but Simone's waving a gun in their face made him realize where it went wrong. She was paranoid, and that was on them. 

Another thing he didn't want to admit was how happy he was to sit and talk with her again before shit went awry. On the one hand, it felt like he was back in Chicago; miserable and trying to find an excuse not to return home so soon. On the other hand, he felt like he was wasting that time he would be at home with Simone again. 

The old conflicting emotions confused him and scared him enough to use Steven as his shield again. 

Steven rechecked the phone, saw nothing, and turned it back on the nightstand with a sigh. Is this fucker depressed? He hasn't heard from her for a few days, so what? I hadn't heard from her in years. Marc thought. He pushed through, finally ready to speak. 

"You only knew her for three weeks, buddy. Get a grip." He said before going back to the recesses of the brain. Steven sat up, 

"And it doesn't bother you that she hasn't called? You're taking the piss!" He shouted into the open air. Steven couldn't understand why Marc was the one hiding when it was his fault that Simone wasn't speaking to them. She tried to talk to Marc, but it was Marc who ran. Again.

"Sex doesn't always mean love. You'll figure it out."

Marc retreated back once he finished his sentence. He said all he needed to say. 

 When Simone wasn't working, she found herself in the same funk as Steven. She wanted to call but went on a journey to find treasure in a box of old belongings she kept from her mom's house instead. It was a Chuck Taylor shoe box; inside was everything she had left from that life. Two dollar bills, a buffalo nickel, a broken pearl rosary with loose beads, a few other odds and ends, and the note.

That fucking note.

It used to mean so much; she read it every night before bed, even after Marc left. Now it's a reminder of the worst day of her life. Looking at the quad-fold with "Moni" written on the exposed side again made her want to weep because of the old emotions it brought back.

We were so young. So naïve. 

Simone couldn't bring herself to really reread it. Her eyes grazed over yesteryear's curly and scratchy handwriting, but they repeatedly darted to the word love. It was carved into the original note and her reply. She grew sick of seeing it.

What did this kid know about love?

The question replayed in her brain like a broken record. She thought she had known love a few times before. Each time something else was mistaken for love. Trina, Oliver, Zeke, Ben. How was Marc different? Her eyes flashed right back to "No matter what, I love you Moni." and "I will always love you, Spector."

What did those kids know about love?

She stayed sat on the floor next to her bed, rolling the corners of the old loose stationery paper between her fingers. Warm tears coated her cheeks, more in these last couple of days than any day she could remember in recent times. Only one other time compared to this watershed. When Marc left, and now he's back, and she's crying like this again.

What did those kids know about love?

"Only we were the only ones who had it for each other." She whispered subconsciously to herself, answering the question. It was no wonder she fell so hard for Steven so quickly. Yet, somehow, Steven was a totally different person in her mind. He surpassed everything she ever knew. 

Simone closed the box back up and pushed it under her bed before she stood. She folded the note back to how it had been for so long and tossed it onto her nightstand. 

Then, the shirt she threw off of herself while Steven was here caught her eye, dangling from the standing mirror that belonged to her roommate. 

The sight of it tickled her. It brought a feeling in her belly that she had missed these few days. A feeling she had grown fond of the last three weeks. It was indescribable. Maybe not love, but desire and extreme like. 

Even if she missed Marc for the last decade and a half of her life, she missed Steven right then.

 "I'm going over there." Steven proclaimed as he finally got out of bed. He was tired of waiting, and if Marc wasn't going to try to do something, he sure as hell would. 

Marc stopped their feet where they were. "No, you're not. Put this thing to bed."

"I can fix this." Steven insisted, grabbing his coat. "I wanna fix this mess we made."

Steven was convinced he could make it right, even if they both screwed up by keeping this secret. Marc was apprehensive. 

"If you just show up there, you might be met with that gun in our face again. Don't be brave." Marc stopped them again. Steven had had enough of the mental tug-of-war.

"I don't get why you won't just talk to her. You're her oldest friend on the planet. You shut her out like she meant nothing to you! Simone is-"

He was cut off by his phone ringing, and every bit of courage he gathered to march to her place washed away. Steven was frozen in place as the thing he had been waiting for finally happened. 

Marc reflected on what Steven had just said, knowing he was right and hating it. There was a place in time when Moni meant everything to him. He felt like he needed to work things out but was truly scared. 

Steven still stood, feet wholly glued to the floor as he listened to the phone ring. He was suddenly sure it was Simone calling to say she didn't want to see him again. 

Steven retreated, leaving only Marc to operate their body again. The phone continued to ring, seemingly growing lower the longer it went.

"Steven, she's calling to talk to you, buddy, not me." He said, hoping it would wake his counterpart up. Steven didn't budge.

Marc groaned and went to the phone. These fucking things ring too long these days. He thought before he choked down his pride and answered.

"Hello?"

"Oh, Marc... hi. Wow, I just lost my train of thought." Simone said on the other end. She sounded flustered and was expecting to hear the Englishman on this end. Marc didn't know what to say, so he stayed quiet. "Um, come over, will ya?"

"Yep, on our way." Marc proclaimed before promptly hitting the end call button. He sighed and looked at his feet. "Steven, you gotta meet me halfway here, man." He called out again. Nothing. 

I guess I deserve this. Marc thought. 

#moon knight #moon knight fan fic #moon knight fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel mcu #marvel smut #mcu fanfiction #mcu #mcu fic #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfic #marc spector #steven grant #angst

[milo-is-rambling]

Couldn’t sleep so I went to get up thinking oh I’ll have to grind weed so I can fall back asleep and then I thought no I’ll take a a dab but I thought no that’s too much I’ll just smoke flower and then I went to get up and I accidentally lifted my blanket too high and knocked over the little jar I had on my bedside table that had ALLL OF THE INCENSE STICKS IVE COLLECTED FROM THE LAST TWO YEARS IN IT. So I breathed. And I breathed. And I turned my light on. And I got really annoyed and picked up small sticks that blend in with my floor for five minutes and then I breathed some more and couldn’t fit all the sticks back in the jar bc they’d been placed meticulously so they all laid perfectly against one side so there was still room to put more and I was not about to individually put all those sticks in that jar when all I wanted to do was to smoke and take off the heavier blanket and pass out. So I moved the incense sticks to my skull jar that I haven’t used in a while and now it looks like this.

But I did earn a dab being allowed from my brain in the process. So yay me. Also funk has been absolutely SCREAMING at me at the top of his little bird lungs bc I turned the light on to smoke and play accidental pick up sticks for twenty minutes and it’s giving me a headache and it’s just like godddddd how can everything go so wrong so fast not just me knocking over a jar of sticks but like. Life. Something about me collecting all my incense sticks and ash since I first moved into this house two years ago and then accidentally dropping the sticks like two days after I accidentally spilled incense ash all over my bed and didn’t even tell anyone cause it made me so annoyed and ashamed for some reason and I can’t even explain why I’m collecting the sticks or the ash. Like I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or why. I started collecting incense ash like three years ago when my friend and I went thru a ooo witchcraft phase and I just never stopped dumping the ash from my ashtray into a cheese container with a small plastic spoon like I don’t even know why I’m doing it I just set myself down this path and now I’m here and I’m attached to a jar of fucking kindling at this point like why did I cry over knocking over a jar of sticks what is wrong with me does it ever get easier why have I been taking my meds for almost 100 days and I still lose my shit over little things I feel like I will never be normal I will never get to be the person that will make my parents proud I feel like I’m constantly gonna be finding myself making one wrong move and ruin the thing I’m doing just to pretend I’m doing something with my life like I don’t even know what I want to do in the future there’s so many options everything is so scary forever I went to Walmart and I wanted to crawl into the squishmallow display and just die like if one more person looks at me and acknowledges I have a body I feel like I’ll lose my shit like oh my god I know I’m mentally ill but fucking hell. Just give me a break (I say while not having a job not doing school not even doing theater rn I’m just sitting at home in my brain and losing my mind waiting for therapy on the third) I’m so close to having someone to help me untangle my brain I really want to open up I want to feel like I can I want to remember shit I always forget I want to avoid crisis modes and be normal I want to get a job I want to shut up. Literally ever. If I could ever at any point learn to shut my fucking mouth and brain mouth up at the same time. Would be fucking fantastic. It seems impossible. Either I’m not thinking when I’m talking and then I’m an asshole or I’m not talking bc I’m thinking so hard about how I’m an asshole. Like either way in my head I am a shitty person forever and like I know I’ve been shitty like I know I’ve done shitty things but like I’m not broken forever I know there’s food in here but I need someone else to force me to see it bc I can’t find it on my own and I don’t trust it when it comes from my family or friends and a part of my brain says oh ur paying ur therapist to say that

But i want a therapist who will call me out on my bullshit and would tell me if I was being the asshole in the situation yknow. Anyways this is a lot of text and I’m not going to reread it all have fun going to the internet rambling blog void block of text goodbye gonna smoke a bowl and pass the fuck out hopefully my back and neck will stop hurting and I will stop being too hot and too cold at the same time and I will not have nightmares about past relationships or future relationships or picking incense sticks up for forever and they all match the color of the carpet and also it’s fine cause they look better in the skull jar and it’s fine and it doesn’t make me irrationally mad still even tho I picked them all up but I don’t know for sure if I got them all but I think I did but it’s going to bother me if I find them on my floor tomorrow. Okay bye

[harrison-abbott]

Wells Versus the Bank

Wells got a letter from the bank telling him that they’d overpaid him several thousands of pounds and that he needed to pay them back.

This was basically the main message on the first page of the letter. And the second page was filled with endless scrolls of tiny text, listing lawful information and using technical jargon he couldn’t understand. Wells had to use his glasses to see it. He squinted without comprehension; but gathered that this was a serious fair and it was mandatory to make this repayment.

But he didn’t know what’d happened. He’d taken out a loan five years back. Things like money, the Bank – the Man in general, or the State, rather – worried him already. Wells was a simple man born in the countryside in the 1950s, down south. And he’d moved north and lived there for four decades within which he barely stopped working until he retired. And he technically didn’t retire: his company couldn’t keep him on so they let him go, with a pay package. After thirty five years of working with the company they only gave him half of the pay-off amount; because to get the full amount you’d needed to have been with them for forty years.

These were such reasons he didn’t trust the State.

Wells drove into the town the next morning to go to the bank branch in person.

Mr Claude Wells was a tall, thin man with a heavy beard and strong eyebrows that didn’t quite belong to any suggestive nationality; and as for his character – well – he had no friends on the planet, and yet was polite with everybody he met. In a curt goodly type of way that came from his remote upbringing (with the fields and the little town and a family rooted in poverty but heavy with books and intelligence).

The girl who met him at the reception looked in physical pain when she had to deal with him. Because she was in her 20s as opposed to 60s and had come from a totally different place, in a world where kids had the internet for as long as they could remember.

[Wells also tended to smoke a lot of tobacco and he smelled of it everywhere, and the funk of it brought to her a type of terror.]

“I’m thinking this might be a mistake on the bank’s part?” Wells said to her, showing her the letter. “As I thought we’d agreed the exact amount five years ago. I thought this was all done with.”

“Hmm,” she glanced at the papers nervously, “let’s see … Mr Wells? Would you like to speak to one of our special advisors about this?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay. I can book an appointment for you.”

“It can’t be done today?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Our advisor isn’t in today.”

“It’s just that I’ve been fretting ever since I got this letter. I can’t repay the money for a few months at least. And it says that there’s a time limit on the date its owed back. That if I can’t repay by then: they’ll put interest on it.”

He made sure to say ‘they’ instead of ‘you’ because he didn’t want to offend the girl. He was irate with this Bank; not her.

“I’m really sorry, Mr Wells. I can slot you in for an appointment …”

“Can tomorrow do?”

“Umm,” peering at her computer screen, “next available slot is next week?”

“Next week?”

“Yes, I’m afraid. We’re still backed up from the pandemic.”

“Okay. Is there somebody I can call on the phone to do it that way instead?”

“Oh, yeah. I can give you that number right now.”

She did so. He thanked her. And left.

It was around noon when he got back home. He made a call through to the number that the bank girl had given him. And he had to key in the digits of his account info. Wells’ hearing wasn’t so neat anymore; and the line was fizzy, with his house being way out in the sticks. It’d already taken ten minutes to do the initial bit and then the robotic announcer said to him:

“We’re currently experiencing a high demand in the number of calls and having to deal with many customers. Please hold and a member of our team will get back to you as soon as possible.”

Wells waited. They had on this waiting music which was like a carnival tune, or theme park music, played on cheap keys … and for some reason they stuck in some surf-guitar for the main melody. He listened to that for 32 minutes and then couldn’t stand it anymore. Hung up.

A few hours later he tried again and then the same thing happened again, couldn’t get through to a human person.

It’d already tired him out. Was getting close to evening time. So he had to retire from the letter problem for tonight – just put it away.

Who knew what would happen? Maybe he’d be pushed into paying interest by the bank. That’d be the worse scenario, when he simply didn’t have the funds to get out of it.

Urgh. He couldn’t allow the imagination to take negative control.

So he took out his bag of tobacco and rolled up a few cigarettes, a skill of which he was outmatched at. At 68 years old, tobacco was far more likely to kill him than the Bank was. Or the State, actually: as much as they enjoyed doing that to its citizens. But tobacco and the Bank were totally opposite things.

His dog was sleeping upstairs. From the downstairs he called for her to come a walk. Seconds later the collie bounded down the stairs with lumpy beauty. He left the house with the dog and walked along the road and up the fields which rose aslant the hillside and from there one could see out for acres over the land that was in this moment suffused and inked by the sundown colours of purple and red and yellow alongside the tough terminal navy blue clouds.

What did money worries with the Bank compare to such visions?

Wells had lived through worst issues than this Bank dilemma.

He remembered being hit by the car when he was a boy. Broke his arm. That was tough. And when he first moved to the city he was jumped one night by three men who mugged and beat him unconscious and he had memory issues afterwards. That was worse. And there was the time when his baby son passed away. An agony of which had never dissolved. Nor the memories of his wife who had left (not died) him shortly after the boy’s death.

So, yes, the Hell with the bank.

International finance had nothing compared with the beauty of the countryside where Wells would live for the rest of his life.

#writeblr #creative writing #prose #short fiction #stories #writers on tumblr #fiction

[fandomout]

heya! can i request lots of lip gallagher angst please? i love what you write and need him in my life </3

Thank you so much! I'm not sure when I'll be able to make more Lip angst or Lip fic's, but I'll be sure to try when I get an idea. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one. 💜

Lip Gallagher X Reader-Imagine trying to convince Lip that Helene, his professor, isn't the best thing for him, but he can't see the truth

Warning! Mentions of virginity and sex, but there is no actual smut. Slight fluff. Lots of Angst. Not sure if this has been done before. If it has, credit to them, and this is my version of it.

Smiles and laughs grace your best friend, Lip, and you can't help grin just because he seems happy. He tells you about his recent endeavors at college, specifically how he’s having the greatest adventures with his professor, Helene. When you 1st heard about this mysterious woman, you were initially livid, on the inside, of course. You wanted to know everything and nothing about her all at once. However, just like always you had to find a way within yourself to support Lip’s happiness. You always hold onto the friendship that’s graced the both of you with each other. Also, you couldn’t help internalizing Lip’s trauma's and emotions throughout the years. He deserved to go to school and become even greater than he already is, and although you couldn't always stomach the thought of him with someone else, you’d support that too to see him be loved. You were as it goes hopelessly devoted to Lip, so you hadn't really dated too much. Nothing could ever get serious when you’d hold him in your heart.

🖇

One day, you were at Lip’s dorm helping him clean up a bit when Lip seemed to really catch the fact that you'd apparently been single for “too long”. You scoffed at Lip and asked, “What’s that your business for?” He laughed at the comment and added, “I just want you to be happy. I mean we don’t get as much time these days. Me in college and with…” He smiled and looked off to space. You mouth her name as he says, “Helene.” You roll your eyes at it and shake your head and bitterly say, “I don’t need to be with someone to be happy.”

“I get that, but maybe you’d seem a little...a little...better?”

“Better?”

“You just seem a little down lately. Seeing as you won’t tell me what it’s about, I’m just trying to find an all around solution because I care.” His hand finding your shoulder.

”I’m doing fine, really. You're just so up in the clouds-”

“I want you up here too.” You sigh as the words are a rubber band to the heart as you wished he meant together...

“Lip, I don’t need someone.”

“It doesn't have to be serious. Just get laid.“ His insistent nature angers you to shout, “I can't! I’ve never-” You stop yourself too late. Your virginity has never been a topic of concern. You both just glossed over it. To you, it never seemed like Lip knew you hadn’t gotten that far, regardless, you never wanted it to be made so clear. Silence passed between you two before he started to laugh and said, “You’re fucking joking.” You looked down to your feet, which was when he actually believed your words. “No shit. No fucking way! You haven’t gotten laid yet!”

“Want to scream it out any louder! Shut the fuck up!” He laughed before he held his hands up in surrender.

“That’s crazy to me.”

“Of course it is. You bang anything that walks. Lip-”

“Even with any of your s/o’s, you never-”

“No! I'm a virgin. No big deal!”

“Yes. I just find it hard to believe nobody would try. Did they?”

“Maybe once or twice, and I shut them down.”

“Not good enough for you.”

“Something like that.”

“People are fucking stupid. You are hot, and it surprises me there aren't any more.”

“It's the story of my life.”

“What?”

“Getting overlooked.” You said simply before continuing to stack a book on a high shelf.

“Come on, that can’t be true.” He turns you toward him. “I see you unless I see dead people.”

“Haha.” You grin.

“I’m serious though. When you walk into the room, it’s brighter. Maybe you catch the attention of shy people. Maybe pay more attention?”

“Can we stop talking about it?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

🖇

You were on your way home late at night when you got a call from Lip. You answered and immediately thought it was a bit late.

“Hey!” He said a little off.

“Lip, what’s up?”

“Just need a drinking buddy.” You hear a bottle crash on his side of the phone.

“You doing okay there?”

“Yup! Having the bez time.”

“You already started drinking without me. Where are you?”

“I think I’m on campus on like a lawn-can’t remember which one.”

“I’ll be right there. Stay on the li-” He hung up. You jumped a fence and ran all over campus with no sign of him, and he wouldn't take you calls. You finally found him toward the back exit of the campus. He was swinging his body silly with heavy footsteps. You rushed over to support him. Immediately, he detached himself. A pout on his face with slumped shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” He laughs dryly.

“Come on, sit down.” You have him sit on the curb and wish you brought him a bottle of water or something. “What’s this about?”

“Helene...She’s married. She has a kid.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. This must be shocking to hear-”

“I already knew.”

“What do you mean you knew?”

“These past few...weeks? Weeks, I think, I knew. Hell, her husband watched us-Well, watched us fornicate.”

“Gross.” You couldn’t help but say. He shrugged at your reaction, not really being able to defend that truth. “You agreed to it?”

“I did, but I feel her pulling away now. I haven’t changed anything though.” He turns quickly toward me like he’d get whiplash. He points his finger to his chest and hits his chest aggressively as he says, “I’m me! I’m still giving her everything I have!...It leaves me in a funk.”

“You want to be with her that badly?”

“Yeah.”

“But, it doesn't feel so good.”

“Right.”

“You know why?”

“Yeah. I just said she has-”

“I didn’t mean the family thing.”

“Then, why?”

“You should try a relationship that’s more meaningful.”

“This is meaningful to me.”

“I meant a healthy meaningful.”

“Who are you to tell me?” He said it harshly.

“You’re right. I have no right to tell you what’s meaningful to you. You have to admit you're not in the best situation.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d rather have nothing than search for something. I think your standards are too high.”

“Trust me, they're not that high… Top 3 are honesty, communication, and trust.”

“Hmm ...You want to tell me something?” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m all three of those for you. I must be your dream guy.”

”You could be, except it wouldn’t happen obviously.”

“Are you sure about that?'' He found himself saying.

“Here we are talking about your women, I’m sure...” You bite at your lip. Your thoughts stop when you see a few tears branching out of his eyes. You comb your hand through his hair. As he looked for more comfort, he wanted to lay down. You convinced him to let you get him to his dorm. He allowed you that, and he cried himself to sleep on your lap. He snuggled into your leg while you rubbed his back. You’d already had a distaste for Helene, but now you really couldn't stand her. She’d been fooling Lip, and she still had the power to keep going along with it.

🖇

After the incident, Lip wanted to act like it didn’t happen. He had told you that they were working on it. He even said it might be the closest thing to a relationship he’s had. You wanted to be there for him, but you had to admit you couldn't support this harm. There is a difference in this case to supporting him. You didn’t want to be a part of any longer. You kept quiet about it initially since she’d only done “one” wrong by him, according to Lip. He talked to you less and less it seemed after it. You tried your best, but something always seemed to come up. You’d get calls from Ian or Fiona that he’s drinking a lot which worries you and hasn't attempted AA when they think it's becoming a big issue. Finally, you confronted Lip on the street.

“I can't talk now.” He said. You didn’t let him push past you and stated, “No. You are not ditching me once again. You have stuff going on. It probably has to do with that woman-”

“Helene. That's none of your business.”

“None of my business?” You look at the bag under his eyes. He reeked of alcohol on his disheveled clothes. “She’s ruining you, but that’s none of my business? What happened this time?” He took out a cigarette and lit it before he sniffed and gave you a side smirk.

“I just maybe happened to beat up her son after I thought she cheated on me with him. Isn't that funny?” He giggled and hiccupped.

“Why were you upset? You were fine when she had a husband to cheat on you with.”

“That was different. Anyway, I see you’re upset about the lack of time I’ve been spending with you, but I can fix it. Let go for a drink.'' He put his arm around your shoulder and was probably leading you to Kev and V’s. You removed the arm and snapped, “What you need is some water. You’ve had enough.”

“What do you mean I haven’t drunk today?”

“Tell that to your breath and clothes. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I think this conversation is stupid and remember why I was trying not to talk to you.”

“You did it on purpose?”

“I just knew you’d get all worried for nothing.”

“For nothing? She’s not good for you to begin with. Lip” You hold his hand and softly say, “Lip, She was your professor and married.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”

“Lip-”

“I love her! She sure is a hell of a lot better than the ones telling me otherwise. You have no right to judge me. Take a look at yourself!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You go around pining for me in hope someday you’ll be the one. You’re pathetic! You can’t be the one because Helene was! She is! You’re single because no one wants you! You try to act so high and mighty! If you're so great and talented, leave! You’re useless around here! You fucking suffocating me with your supposed love and care! Thanks so much for it! You-”

”Stop!...I get it. You don’t want me around. Get some help from a sponsor and go to the AA meetings.” Tears began to pour, and you sniffled. “You wouldn’t want to lose and hurt someone you actually care about.” As he saw your tears and hurt, he sobered up slightly and said, “Wait-” You quickened your steps to get away as fast as possible. He tried to follow after, but his drunken body wouldn't allow it as he reached forward and fell right on his ass. "Fuck!"

Hope your day got better

Part 2 Lip realizes his mistake

Lip Gallagher Masterlist

Full Masterlist

#lip gallagher #lipgallagherimagines #lip gallagher preference #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher fluff #shamelessimagine #shameless x reader #shameless preferences #shameless masterlist #imagine #preference #reader insert #reader imagine #x reader #fluff #One shot #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher one shot #angst #lip gallagher angst

[bowievanfleet]

dimly lit- josh kiszka

pairing- josh kiszka x gn!reader

genre- hurt/comfort, fluff

prompt- “can you please come get me?” from this prompt list

warnings- descriptions of a panic attack and anxiety

wc- 2.8k

a/n- probably should've used the ask to reply to this so the person knows i did it but alas, i'm stoopid and didn't think ahead. but, its from this ask :) this is my first josh fic and i had a lot of fun writing it! this was very self indulgent for me, probably a little too much, but, i hope you enjoy it, and thank you so much for the request bb <3

songs i listened to while writing (and that i recommend while reading)- marigold- nirvana / sleepwalk- santo & johnny (deftones version also) / come as you are- nirvana / cherry-coloured funk- cocteau twins

you had never liked big fancy restaurants.

ever since you were a teenager, when your anxiety was becoming more prominent, something about the dimly lit room and the loud, bustling atmosphere made you want to recoil back into your seat and cry. sensory issues were something you had gotten better with over time, but restaurants were something you had yet to conquer. you and josh had always opted for a night in, or going to the waffle house or some diner, which was bliss for you. you would take that over the noisy echoes of some chain steakhouse any day.

your parents had insisted you go out with them, something about celebrating your dad getting a new job. you didn’t want to let them down, and plus you haven’t seen them in a while, so, being the people pleaser that you are, you agreed.

you got yourself ready in front of your mirror, josh sitting cross-legged on the bed behind you. you had picked something simple, wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible, a striped sweater and some loose black jeans and your favorite converse. you slipped your rings on and the necklace that you always wore, knowing they would ground you and remind you of home.

you turned to josh, smiling awkwardly, “well?” you said, eyebrows raised in hopes you had looked somewhat decent while also being comfortable. he gave you a soft smile and stood up, striding over to you.

“stunning.” he stated matter-of-factly, planting a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose and you couldn’t help but giggle. even though you were sure you looked nothing short of an edgy 14 year old emo kid, something about how serious his tone and face were made you somewhat believe him. you brought your hands up and looped them around his neck, twisting your fingers in his curls. he locked his arms around your frame, holding you as close as physically possible.

“you got this mama,” he whispered. “you know you can always text me if you need a distraction, right?” he pulled away and looked at you for confirmation.

“i know joshy, thank you so much.” you said, and leaned against his chest again.

-

when you got to the restaurant, it actually wasn’t too crowded, and the light filtering in from the evening sun made the large room seem not so dark and intimidating. there was a tiny glimmer of hope sparked inside you, that maybe tonight would go fairly well.

you found your parents at a table in the corner, and sped over to them.

“y/n!” your mom exclaimed, “how have you been sweetie?” she asked as she tugged you in for a hug. “i’ve been good!” you smiled awkwardly and sat down across from them, already starting to feel a bit fidgety. your dad gave you a warm smile, “hey hun! its good to see you,” he said. you nodded “its good to see you too, it feels like its been forever!” you made small talk to the best of your ability. the conversation went on like that for some time, catching up on things and reminiscing.

“how are things with you and josh?” your mom inquired.

the nerves in your stomach eased a bit just by the pure mention of him, you had always found it crazy how just a thought of him and his smile could relax you, even if it was the tiniest bit.

“we’re good! he’s been doing super well with his music lately, he’s been doing some really big things.” you gushed, physically not able to stop yourself from rambling about how proud you were of him.

“that's great hun! i hope he’s not thinking of doing it for too much longer, i want some grandkids soon!” she jested, and you smiled back too, but on the inside, that comment struck a chord deep in you.

any other time you would’ve brushed something like this off, it’s such a mom thing to say, but now, in your heightened emotional state, you had taken it way more personally for some reason. you and josh had talked about it before, about having kids. he absolutely wanted them, and you knew you would want them too someday, but you both agreed that his music was more important right now, and settling down wasn’t something either of you were looking to do any time soon. you had absolutely loved life on the road with him, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything right now.

the thought of him giving up this whole career that he had built up, just for some kids at 25, made you choke up instinctively.

you were taken out of your thoughts by the waiter coming to take your order, and your nerves spiked up rapidly. you hated ordering for yourself. it wasn’t like you couldn’t do it, you just needed some time to prepare what you were going to say in your head first, and it was easier with josh across from you, not your parents.

you had been so lost in your mom’s comment that you hadn't even looked at the menu yet, and you had no idea what you were going to even say.

your parents ordered first, and while they did so, you skimmed over the menu and decided on the first thing that your eyes landed on, mushroom ravioli.

what a bella swan moment, you noted to yourself, putting it in the back of your mind to tell josh later.

the waiter landed on you, asking you what you would like, and in the most stable voice you could muster, you ordered “u-um, the mushroom ravioli please.”

“okay,” the waiter confirmed, “and would you like soup or salad with that?”

shit.

“oh uh, um salad is fine.” you choked out, trying your best not to sound like you weren’t on the verge of tears. “okay i’ll get that right out for you guys!” the waiter smiled warmly, walking away with your menus.

you sat there for a second, finally taking a few moments to collect yourself. just as you had finally calmed yourself down, like god had just decided he wanted you to have a bad night, people started flooding into the restaurant. one by one, in the span of 5 minutes, almost every table was filled, and you even noticed a line starting to form out the front door.

the sun was setting too, and exactly what you hoped to avoid tonight, slowly crept up on you. from your little booth in the corner of the restaurant, the room started to feel like it was caving in on you. almost like the four walls were squeezing you, wrapping around your throat and suffocating you. as the sun officially set, the dim lights turned on and that made it even worse. you felt like you couldn’t see 5 feet in front of you, even though you were certain it wasn’t that dark. you started to feel your head throb and as you tried to take a deep breath, you realized the oxygen wasn’t filling up your lungs all the way, which made you panic more.

stop being so fucking dramatic! you scolded yourself, but then suddenly there was only one solution in your mind, only one thing you could focus on doing through the haze.

“i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you choked out shakily to your parents, and they nodded obliviously as you made a beeline for the restrooms.

thankfully, it was only one room and not a big one with stalls, so you rushed in and locked the door behind you. you slid down on the floor and took out your phone quickly, your hands shaking so hard that it almost fell out of your hand multiple times.

finally, you were able to manage tapping on josh’s contact and putting it on speaker. it only rang once before he picked up, “hey, everything okay baby?” he spoke, but not even his voice could calm you down now. you needed him, needed to feel him, hold on to him, use him to ground yourself.

“n-no,” you stuttered out, voice wavering harshly. his soft demeanor immediately changed into a firm one, but still gentle nonetheless. “hey, baby listen to my voice okay? can you hear me good, can you focus on my words?” he asked. “y-yeah,” you replied as you clutched the phone to your chest, like if you could hold it close enough to you, he would appear beside you somehow.

“okay baby i need you to focus on me okay? what do you need love? tell me what you need me to do right now.” he requested, and there was only one thing you could stutter out.

“c-can you please come get me?” you asked pathetically, as the tears finally escaped and started making little rivers down your cheeks.

“of course baby, i’m leaving right now.” it sounded like he had already gotten in the car before you even told him, which embarrassed you, but you couldn’t find the energy to think about it right now. “can you stay on the phone please?” you asked timidly, afraid you were going to upset him for some reason.

you had a bad habit of thinking everyone was mad at you when you got into these episodes, even though there was absolutely no evidence that he was.

“of course i can, i’m not going anywhere, love.” the pet names he was using comforted you a little, but not enough to get your breathing stable again.

“baby, i need you to breathe for me, okay? stop clenching your hair for me, remember what i said about that.”

it stunned you that he knew you well enough to know what you were doing, because you were, in fact, clenching your hands in your hair. it was a habit that formed whenever you had panic attacks, you guessed as your body's instinctive attempt to ground you.

remember what i said about that, josh had said, referring to all the times he told you that you were going to go bald one day by doing that, and it made you giggle every time just like he had intended for it to do.

you gave a small chuckle again at his mention of it. “there it is!” he praised. “your doing so well, mama, can you try to focus on your breathing now? remember what we went over last time, about counting.” he was talking about a coping mechanism he had read about, how you would breathe in and count for 4 seconds, hold it for 2, and let it out for 5. it actually ended up helping a good bit last time, so you tried it again, trying to imagine josh there with you, his hands on your shoulders, keeping you tethered to earth. but when you opened your eyes, he wasn’t there, and it brought all of your progress back down again. “j-josh i can’t. i’m sorry.” you gasped.

“its okay baby, you're okay hun. but i need you to try and go tell your parents what's happening. make up a lie if you need to, blame it on me or something.” he suggested.

you stood up and splashed some water on your face, trying to think of something to tell them. “okay, i’ll try,” you said quietly. “okay mama, you got this. i’m gonna hang up because i’m almost there okay? i’ll see you in like 5 seconds i promise.” he assured. “o-okay. i love you.” you shakily replied. “i love you too beautiful.” he said, and hung up the phone.

you took one last staggering breath, and gathered all your courage to walk out of the bathroom.

you shakily walked back over to your parents table, and recited your story:

“hey, josh just called me in the bathroom, his car broke down and he needs me to come pick him up. he tried to call his brothers but none of them are picking up so i’m his last resort. he says he's really sorry for interrupting our dinner.” you said, hoping you sounded the least bit convincing.

“oh no that’s terrible!!” your mom exclaimed, “yeah go help him honey, he needs you,” your father assured. you couldn’t help but acknowledge how ironic that was, considering that it was really you that needed him.

“thanks guys, i’m really sorry.” you said, but you really had no regrets about ditching at all. “its okay honey! we can always plan for another time!” your mom assured and you nodded along, but you knew if you had any control over it you wouldn’t be setting foot in this place ever again.

you spotted josh’s car outside, so you started to grab your things. “i love you guys, it was nice seeing you again.” you said, and you didn’t stick around to hear what else they had to say as you weaved in and out of the tables, finally reaching the front door and gulping down the icy air like it was water.

josh had stopped just before the restaurant windows so your parents wouldn’t see you getting into his car that was supposed to be on the side of a highway somewhere. you opened the door and flung yourself into the passenger seat. immediately calming down as soon as you breathed in his scent that filled the car.

he stayed parked for a few moments. immediately taking you in his arms as you finally let the tears spill. you clung on to him so tightly, like you were afraid if you let go you might disintegrate.

“i-im sorry josh, i thought i could do it. i tried to do it, i really did.” you choked out, feeling the need to apologize for ruining his night.

“baby, baby, shh. i know you tried baby, i know. you did so well, calling me like you did. you knew what you needed and you did it. i’m so proud of you.” he soothed.

“proud of me?! how can you be proud of me? i failed. i didn’t make it through the night. i tried so hard and i still couldn’t do it.” you squeaked out, desperately trying to understand how he could be proud of you when you were a sobbing, pathetic mess.

josh’s eyes watered at your deprecation, and he pulled back to hook your chin under his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“y/n. you tried. and that's what i’m proud of you for. whether you did it or not is irrelevant, the fact you even attempted it in the first place is amazing. you could’ve backed out the second they asked you to come but you didn’t, you decided you were going to give it a try. and you went, and you tried, and you realized what you needed and you took action instead of sitting there and taking it. you called me because that was what you needed to cope, and just the fact you knew what you needed to do is so admirable. you should be so proud of yourself y/n.”

you started crying again at his words, but not out of sadness. you were so overcome with love and emotion for him. all you could do was lean your forehead into his chest and nod profusely, a silent “thank you” because you weren’t sure you could form any words right now.

you were still a little shaky, and josh noticed. “take some deep breaths for me, okay honey?” he placed his hands on your shoulders, just like you had imagined him doing earlier. you closed your eyes and tried to breathe, surprising yourself when your body didn’t immediately reject the oxygen. “there you go mama, just like that,” he praised, moving one of his hands to cup your face.

after a few more minutes of matching his breath, you finally felt your lungs absorb all the oxygen you were offering them, and you didn’t feel as shaky anymore. and when you opened your eyes, josh was still right in front of you, making you breathe a quiet sigh of relief. he pulled you to him as best he could, burying his face in your hair and planting a kiss to it. “see? all better. you did that so quickly, i think that’s a record.” he said, and you pulled back and beamed at him.

“you think so?” you asked hopefully. “i know so.” he grinned. your mind eased at the thought that you might actually be getting better at this. and you knew, as long as josh was by your side, it would happen in no time.

“so, how about we go home and be couch potatoes until 3 in the morning?” he suggested.

your eyes lit up, “can we play some records too? i got some new ones i wanted to show you!” you beamed. his heart swelled at your excitement. “hell yeah we can, we’ll have to see if yours are worthy of my approval.” he teased. “oh you're on!” you challenged as he started up the car, and started the journey back home.

#josh kiszka #gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fanfic #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #jonch #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka imagine #greta van fic #greta van fleet oneshots

[loopy-froots]

Childhood Friends

Brahms Heelshire x afab!Reader

Author: @loopy-froots

Word Count: 3261 (WOW wtf…)

Slight request by @leahromanof : small age gap (Brahms is 26-28 and the reader is 20)

Summary: The Reader grew up very close to the Heelshire family, as their parents were business partners with them. However, after the fire incident, Brahms and the Reader took some space from each other. While the Reader knew Brahms was still alive, they didn’t know under the circumstances he was. When a sudden tragedy strikes their family, the Reader is left with no home. The Heelshire family offer their home with welcoming arms, but much has changed between all of them since they have last seen each other.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, swearing, slasher x reader, smut, virgin/unprotected sex (masc and fem), abusive parents (fem), insecurities (on both parts), slight age gap (6ish years?), a slight size kink (if you squint?), etc.

Author’s Note: I wasn’t too sure what to write for the age gap so I hope this is good enough!!! I also threw in a lot of personal needs I’ve been having, so I hope y’all don’t mind! Feel free to let me know your thoughts!!!

~~~

*2nd Person POV*

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were finally going to see your beloved childhood friend, Brahms Heelshire, again after close to ten years of separation. You wished this was not under these circumstances, as you never intended to cause your family such turmoil.

“Y/n! Come in, why don’t you?” Mr. Heelshire exclaims as he opens his front door. He must have seen you walk up their driveway. You can see Mrs. Heelshire inside, but she shares a concerning expression. Trying to brush it off, you step inside and am greeted by the warmth of the house. It was a terribly chilly winter day, and the walk there exhausted you.

“Come, dear! Let me get you a cup of tea to warm you up! You look rather frozen!” Mrs. Heelshire snaps out of her funk and laughs al0ng with her husband. Their jovial attitude makes you feel rather welcomed and loved.

“I cannot thank you enough, Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire… I… I’m terribly sorry that this all happened… especially so suddenly…” You look down with embarrassment.

“Nonsense! We’re always happy to have you, Y/n! Our home is yours!” Mr. Heelshire smiles at you, but you get a somewhat urgent vibe from him. You’re not sure how to feel about it, but you figure since they’re being ever so kind you were in no position to question.

“Now, dear… why don’t you tell us exactly what happened… Perhaps we may help with your parents’ situation?” Mrs. Heelshire gently suggests, but you shake your head in disagreement.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure that’s possible… you see, I recently came out to my parents as non-binary… they’ve never been overly supportive of that kind of stuff, but I knew I couldn’t hide myself any longer…” You explain shamefully.

“Oh my… that is a rather difficult predicament, hm? However, we want you to know that we fully support you… in fact, our own Brahms considers himself genderfluid,” Mrs. Heelshire shares, which honestly makes you feel less alone.

“Really? I… I had no idea… Thank you, but speaking of which… where is Brahms…? Does he still live with you?” You wonder.

“Oh, um… yes… he does, but he’s grown to be rather… timid… so he doesn’t always come out when people are visiting…” Mr. Heelshire explains swiftly, and you try to understand. You don’t fully know what he’s been through, so who are you to judge his social anxieties?

“That’s alright. Well, I just hope he knows how excited I am to see him again…” You confess, causing a surprised reaction from the Heelshire couple.

“Really? Well, that’s certainly wonderful! I’m sure he'll become more open to meeting you after he gets used to you being in the house…” Mrs. Heelshire states with a gentle smile, and you nod your head in agreement.

With that, you are then taken on a tour of the house. You’re shown areas you can and cannot wander to, and you mentally note each location that’s off limits. You’d never want to make the Heelshires uncomfortable, despite how curious you were. They show you to your room, which you immediately recognize as Brahms’ childhood room.

“Oh wow! This looks exactly how I remembered it!” You giggle.

“I’m glad you’re fond of it still, as Brahms insisted you take his room for your own… comfort…” Mr. Heelshire shares, but something tells you he’s not entirely being honest. However, you ignore the feeling bubbling up in your stomach.

“Well, feel free to unpack your things dear. As we mentioned before, we are planning on going on a trip within the next few days. So it will be just you and Brahms for a while…” Mrs. Heelshire reminds you, and you shiver slightly for some reason.

“Oh, yes… Well, I hope the two of you enjoy it!” You politely respond.

~~~

“Goodbye, dear! And remember, follow the rules and you’ll get no trouble from our dear Brahms!” The Heelshires bid you farewell and leave in their cab. Closing the door, you sigh in relief.

“Alright, follow the rules… I can do that… it’s the least I can do since they were so kind as to let me stay for a while…” You motivate yourself.

“Y/n…” A sudden familiar, childlike voice echoes through the house. You looked around to see who it came from, but you saw no one. It had to be Brahms, right? Who else could it have been, but where was he?

“B-Brahms?” You sheepishly call out. You hear no answer and suddenly feel quite stupid. Maybe you just heard the shifting of the house or imagined someone was calling your name?

“Alright, focus… first things first, making some lunch… hopefully he’ll come down to eat with me…?” You hope. You could’ve sworn you heard another childish giggle somewhere, but you try to shake the skittish feeling building up. You quickly make whatever you feel like for lunch, desperate to finish so that you can call Brahms down to eat.

“Um, Brahms? I… lunch is done… if you want some?” You yell throughout the house, but you hear no answer. Finally feeling defeat, you turn back to the kitchen and notice that one of the plates of food has disappeared.

“How did he get to it without me noticing?” You ask out loud. Every instinct within you tells you that something was wrong, but you tried your best to give the man some time to adjust to the new living situation.

“Y/n…?” In the middle of eating, you hear a now more adult version of the voice you heard earlier. You drop your fork in surprise and frantically look around for the source. You then see a tall and scruffy looking man standing at the end of the dining room. He was holding the plate that is now empty, and you figure that must be Brahms. He was very odd looking, in all honesty. He wore a porcelain mask that resembles the type of little dollies you used to keep as a kid.

“Oh, um… h-hello, Brahms…?” You try to be friendly towards him, despite the creepy feeling you got from him already. However, him not answering causes the suspicion to form again.

“Um… did you enjoy the meal I made for you?” You try to spark a conversation, but Brahms nonverbally nods in response.

“That’s good! I’m… glad…” You smile awkwardly at him, but his masked face remains expressionless. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, and Brahms notices the tense state you’re in. He begins to step closer to you, and sets his plate on the table. Sweating profusely, you wonder what he’s doing. He steps closer and closer to you until he’s directly in front of you. While you sit, he towers over you. You’d never admit it, but he’s very intimidating. However, you try your best to be polite.

“Is… everything alright, Brahms?” You ask innocently. He just stares at you, though, never saying a word. When you were about to get up and try to walk away, he grabs your arm and pulls you into him.

“B-Brahms…?!” You exclaim as he squeezes you in his broad arms. He’s rather warm, but trembling. Your heart relaxes when you realize he only wanted a hug.

“Y/n… nice to see you again…” He finally peeps out. Your cheeks heat up, but you lean into the embrace. The two of you just hold onto each other for a few moments, enjoying each other’s presence.

“Good to see you, too! I was worried you were upset with me for coming back after such a long time…” You try to pull away and look him in the eyes, but his grip keeps you there.

“Mm, no… not upset… lonely…” He breathes into your ear, sending a chill down your back. He was… lonely? That makes you feel bad… really bad… how could you leave him like you did after the incident?! It wasn’t completely your fault, as you parents were the main reason you stayed away. They told you what a dangerous person Brahms was, and they forbid you from being influenced by him in any way.

Additionally, your parents never liked how fond the two of you seemed towards each other, despite the slight age difference you had. Brahms was only six years older, and to you it didn’t matter for terms of friendship. However, your parents saw the attraction Brahms had towards you right away. As children, it only developed into a little crush, but the older the two of you got the more obvious it became, to the adults at least. You seemed quite oblivious to his attempts to woo you, as you had just thought he was being friendly.

“I…I’m sorry, Brahms… I should’ve… I wish I’d have… I’m sorry…” Tear well in your eyes as you look down from his gaze. Your focus then shifts to the ever growing bulge in his pants that you hadn’t noticed before.

“It’s alright… happy you’re here now…” Brahms strokes your hair with his free hand, and he leans into you. You feel him stroke your neck with his nose, seemingly trying to get a reaction out of you. Completely frozen, you felt unsure of what to do. All of the sudden, your head’s ideas clicked and made you realize the years of yearning he’d been doing for you.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t still have feelings for the boy you grew up with. You always admired how protective he was of you. You never admitted your affection towards him, though, as you thought he might react negatively. To you, the age difference acted as a barrier, but to him, it seemed he didn’t mind in the slightest. All he’s ever known was his love for you, despite the age gap. However, is this still the same boy as before? You probably barely knew him anymore. Then why were you getting so flustered over this simple interaction?

“Brahms?” You look back into his eyes with a curious glint. What was he planning with you?

“Hm?” He nonchalantly answers.

“Are you…?” You start, but then feel too embarrassed to finish.

“Yes,” He agrees without needing you to explain. You feel him jerk his hips into your stomach softly, desperate to get some friction between the two of you. As intoxicating as he was being, you still felt unsure of your stance with him.

“I’m not sure I want to… I mean, this is so soon… don’t you think?” You try to reason mainly with yourself to try and stop this from happening. With that, Brahms stops and pulls away from you with a pout.

“No?” He questions with sweet eyes.

“I… yes…?” You try to stand your ground with yourself again, but it’s no use. Brahms’ heartfelt pleading turns you to putty in his hands.

“Please?” He begs. With that, you finally agree, and he’s onto you. Groping all up and down your sides, front, and back, he feels every inch of your body as if he’s desperate to find something in you.

“Brahms… wait…?” You stop him again, realizing you hadn’t seen his actual face yet. You politely ask him to remove his mask, but he visibly slumps.

“Why…? You… don’t want to see me…” Brahms insecurely explains, but you shake your head.

“I do! Please…?” You whine as he continues to feel up your back. Brahms hesitates slightly, then agrees. With that, he slowly removes the porcelain from himself. This leaves his bare, burnt, and uncertain face into your view. You’re unsure of what to say at first, as your feelings are conflicted. However, you quickly decide to go with what your heart felt.

“You’re so handsome, Brahms…” You confess with a sheepish smile. He doesn’t respond, though, almost as if he’s debating what to say as well.

“Mm!” You moan through a sudden kiss he placed on your lips, making Brahms smile to himself in the kiss. He loved the way you reacted to his touch. He quickly realized you were feeling the same towards him, and that gave him the confidence to continue. You rapidly grew a certain heat in your pelvic area, but the feeling was still unfamiliar to you. Only on the rare occasion did you allow yourself the pleasure, but you felt guilty for it every time.

“Slut… whore… useless daughter…” Your parents’ past words radiate in your head, and a panic washes over your body. Brahms senses your inner conflict again, and stops once more.

“Y/n…?” He gently asks to see if you’re alright. Tears well up in your eyes as the guilt of disappointing your parents consumes you.

“I’m sorry, I just… my mom and dad would be so upset… I just feel so… lost…” You admit, and Brahms wipes your cheeks with his calloused hands.

“Mm, screw them…” He chuckles darkly.

“But…” You try to argue, but he shushes you instead.

“They’ve never been good to you, Y/n…” Brahms shares, and it confuses you at first. They’ve always given you food, shelter, and anything else a child would need.

“But they… they mean well…” You try to reason it out, but he still disagrees.

“I’ve been watching, listening to how they treat you your whole life, Y/n… the way they scream at you, gaslight you, disappoint you… that’s not love… that’s abuse…” Brahms whispers with a broken heart for you. The pain of realization hits you, but you try to muffle your cries with your hands over your mouth.

“I’m so sorry… I know how hard it is… but I… I want to love you… really love you…” He kisses the top of your head sweetly. His words fill your heart with hope that you might not be miserable the rest of your life.

“Really…? I mean, I would love that… but I don’t want to force you into anything…” You self doubt yourself.

“Absolutely. I mean, hell… why do you think I was doing all of this?” Brahms wonders, and you suppose he’s right.

“Yeah, true… I’m sorry, I just feel bad… but thank you, I’d love to… y’know…?” You admit with a shy grin, which he immediately returns.

“Good,” He smirks and kisses you again. This time, the kiss was much more desperate for the sweet result. Brahms shows no mercy for you this time as he begins biting your lips. Your little gasps invoke a strong sense of pride within him. He was making you feel this way, and he alone would make you feel good.

“Hm,” His deep voice rumbles in his chest. Your eyes flutter open and shut, unsure of how to go about this situation. Squirming around awkwardly, you then feel Brahms grab your waist as he lifts you up and onto the table.

“Ah! Brahms...?!” You yelp in surprise.

“Take off your shirt, Y/n.” He demands, already sliding his hands underneath. You timidly follow his instructions, removing your shirt and bra from your body. Brahms looks down from your face and onto your breasts. He adored them, so he ran his hands over them as he gave each nipple a cheeky pinch.

“Oh, Brahms…” Your eyes close in bliss, but he snaps your attention back to his eyes.

“Look at me,” He suggests sternly.

“O-okay…” You do as he wishes and stare deep into his icy eyes. He’s tender and gentle, but he still makes you feel so small next to him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/n… I’ve always loved you…” Brahms brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face, giving him a better view at your beauty.

“I have loved you for the longest time, too, Brahms… I just never knew how to tell you…” You try your best to express your feelings, but your past experience with doing so has never been easy for you. Each emotion you shared ended in an argument with your parents.

“I’m so glad… please…” Brahms pleads, leaning his forehead against yours. He didn’t have to finish for you to understand what he wanted.

“C’mere…” Your sudden burst of trust hits the two of you like a train. Brahms roughly attacks your neck with his lips and teeth, nipping at all your sensitive areas. Exploring each and every inch, he scopes out which areas you like best.

“Mm, Y/n…” He whimpers, rubbing his needy cock against your body. You had neglected it for far too long, and you wanted to give it some love too.

Lowering your hand down to his member, you stroke him through his pants. Pre-cum leaks from his tip and soaks through his underwear slightly. His moans fill your ears with sweet misery. The lack of being inside of you was killing him, but he wanted to take things slow for you.

“Ah, Y/n…! Please! I’ll be a good boy!” He begs you to allow him entrance, and you agree. Instantaneously, he pulls his clothes off and prepares his painfully hard cock to slide into you.

“Oh! You feel… so tight…!” He didn’t tell you, but this was his first time as well. The first feeling of being inside of someone, especially when that someone is you, was the best feeling he’s ever felt. He couldn’t help himself but pump in and out of you. He tried his best to go slow, but his selfish excitement got the better of him. However, you were far from upset by this.

“Ah! D-don’t… stop…!” You plead with him, and he obliges. Slapping his body into yours in a rhythmic motion causes you to quickly feel that coil in your stomach tighten around him.

“F-fuck…! You’re gonna make me…!” As quickly as it started, your love making ended. The two of you came together simultaneously, and everything felt perfect to you. However, Brahms felt a wave of guilt.

“I… I’m sorry… I wish I had lasted longer… and I shouldn’t have pressured you into this…” He goes on and on about all the things he could’ve done better, but you then stop him with a chaste peck on his lips.

“You were perfect. Thank you,” You lovingly look into his eyes. He searches for any sort of regret, but when he finds none he settles into your arms.

~~~

MY REQUESTS FOR DRAWING AND WRITING ARE STILL OPEN!! FEEL FREE TO SEND AN ASK/MESSAGE WITH YOUR IDEA!!

#brahms heelshire #brahms #brahms heelshire the boy #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire x y/n #brahms heelshire x you #brahms x y/n #brahms x you #slasher smut #slasher fanart #slasher brahms heelshire #slasher x y/n #slasher x you #slasher x s/o #slasher x reader #slashers #slashers x reader #slasher community #slasher fandom #the boy x reader #the boy fanart #the boy #the boy 2016 #the boy brahms #brahms heelshire smut #brahms smut

[flareish]

Anxiety

kuroo x reader

summary: you hide your anxiety from basically everyone including your boyfriend, until he finds out for himself

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: Emetophobia Warning! description of nausea/vomit, anxiety, bit of angst but ends in fluff

word count: 2.0k

a/n: I tried to make this as close to my anxiety since I hadn’t known anyone with my kind of anxiety(symptom wise) until I was seventeen, which was a good ways into when I realized I had anxiety. So here is some nausea anxiety representation!

masterlist

You tap your fingers in a mindless rhythm. Alternating the fingers and repeating them back and forth, trying to make it a game, a challenge. You did this over and over again to distract yourself from that all too familiar sinking feeling. That feeling like your stomach has managed to twist and knot itself a million times. Each bump of the bus made acid crawl up your throat. You crunched a mint in your mouth hoping the peppermint would soothe some of the nausea. It didn’t, but the thought was there. You just will yourself not to throw up on the bus, anything but that. The thought in itself makes you even more nervous, and in turn even sicker.

You don’t even know why you are anxious. Today is Kuroo’s big game, but it isn’t yours. You’ve been to a hundred of his games before but never before did you feel like this. Normally you get cute little butterflies, not an angry swarm of bees. The worst part is, there is Kuroo sat next to you happy as can be, completely oblivious. He keeps trying to drag you into conversations but you fear if you open your mouth for too long, all that will come up is vomit. So you keep your mouth firmly closed only smiling tightly or shaking your head at his prompts.

It's not exactly his fault though. He doesn’t actually know you have anxiety. It’s not something you really like to talk about. You are all for promoting the acceptance of mental health but you just find every time you tell someone the dynamic changes. Either they flat out don’t believe you since you “don’t seem like the type with anxiety”. Well duh, I don’t have social anxiety, I have situational anxiety. Like here in this situation. That or they suddenly treat me like I am incapable of handling myself. That whenever a slightly stressful event comes up, I am going to melt into a puddle of pure anxiety. Sorry but I’ve made it this far, I may have to throw up a few times on the way but I am still making it. 

So you just haven’t told Kuroo. You're just nervous that it will change the dynamic. You also don’t want to steal his spotlight. Today is supposed to be all about him. It's his big game. To suddenly speak up and tell him that his game is giving you anxiety would be selfish. So like you always have, you put a brave face on and face it head-on.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kuroo asks you, now facing you, “You look a little pale.”

“Hmm?,” You also turn to look at him, “Oh I am just a bit tired that’s all. I will be fine in an hour or so.” You hope at least. He nods relieved it's not something worse. 

You finally pull into the stadium and everyone is pushing their way off the bus. Luckily Kuroo is right by you to make sure you don't get accidentally pushed down the bus stairs and trampled. The team makes it’s to the bulletin board where they are given their matchups. Nekoma is paired with a pretty hard team. Suddenly, out of nowhere, you dry heave. You knew at the point you were going to throw up and within the next few minutes. 

“Hey I think I left something in the bus I’ll be right back.” You say to Kuroo before dashing off. He goes to reply but you are already gone. 

You make it around the back of the building before you throw up. At this point you’re kinda out of it, your mind is occupied on emptying your already empty stomach. Then you feel someone pull your hair back and gently rub your back. You don’t even have to look up to know it’s Kuroo. When you finish he hands you his water bottle.  You waterfall it and rinse your mouth out of that acidic taste. 

“What’s going on are you okay?” Kuroo asks full of concern. You hesitate for a moment, thinking of telling the truth. Then you remember this is supposed to be his day. 

“Sorry I must have caught a stomach bug.” He doesn’t completely buy it so you quickly add to it.

“I didn't feel great on the bus but I just thought it was because I was tired.” You feel bad lying, “I also don’t want to distract you before your game.” At that Kuroo quickly pulls you into a hug, “Your not a distraction, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Your cheek is pressed against his chest and your hands grip the front of his shirt. 

“We should probably head back.” You mumble.

“Yeah.” He leans down to kiss you but you duck away. He looks incredibly offended and hurt at this.

“Dude I just threw up I don’t know if you want to do that.” 

“…Point.”

The two of you head back inside to the team, you feeling much better after throwing up. Before you know it, the competition has begun and Nekoma has won. You run down and celebrate with the team and it’s a happy day.

On the bus ride home Kuroo has a strange energy about him. Not like he’s mad more just like he’s just realized something. You nudge him and smile hoping to break him out of his little funk. He immediately smiles back and goes back to celebrating with the team. His reaction was almost like putting a mask on. You watch him for a moment before slipping into a conversation of your own.

When you make it back to school you go your separate ways. Him going to shower, and you to get home before it gets too late. A big hug before pushing away. You still refusing to kiss him after throwing up earlier in the day. 

You are laying on your bed, exhausted. Anxiety really takes a toll on your energy. Your thoughts are broken when your phone chimes with a text.  Leaning over to grab your phone off your bedside table you see it is from Kuroo. 

“Can you come over? I want to talk.”

No cute pet names. No slowly easing into it. Actually using proper grammar. Nothing in that message was a good sign. Just “I want to talk” was enough to make the acid begin to crawl again. You knew it had to be about today. Especially after you saw him zoning out on the bus. It had to be your anxiety episode. You knew he wouldn’t be happy you lied but going to this extent. Like he just found out you have anxiety and this is what he hits you with? The world’s most nerve-wracking text message. The only worse place than this would be “we need to talk”. That’s when you have really screwed up. So maybe you’ve only minorly screwed up since he said want not need. Does that mean you have the choice to say no? That was kind of tempting but you knew you would be tossing and turning all night thinking about what might be wrong. 

“Okay.” You reply to the text. Short and sweet. Putting on some shoes and grabbing a hoodie, you quietly slip out of your house. Kuroo’s house wasn’t too far but it was far enough. Enough to continue to stir in your intrusive and unstoppable thoughts. You eventually make it to his house and head in going straight for his room. Before you reach the door you hesitate and gather yourself. Preparing for whatever was about to come. 

When you go in you find Kuroo sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the bed. He jerkily looks up and you and gives you a tight smile. None of this is giving good signs. Something is very heavy on his mind. You sit down across from him, your back against the wall your feet almost touching. 

“So what was it you wanting to talk about.” You break the silence. He doesn’t respond for a moment. Just as you are about to try again he speaks up.

“Do you still love me?” Your face drops into confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I love you anymore?” You ask, suddenly realizing this wasn’t the conversation you were prepping yourself for. 

“You’ve been distant lately. You don’t tell me things like when you don’t feel good. I thought about it when I got home and I was wondering if you weren’t actually sick but just making the excuse because you got caught.” He’s very serious at the moment and his words hold a cold edge. 

“What do you mean get caught?” You match his tone. You weren’t planning on fighting but something about how he said it just set something off in you.

“You didn’t want to be there. Ever since this morning you were quiet and reserved. Even after the game, you wouldn’t even kiss me-”

“Yeah, cause I threw up! And how could I be faking it when I literally threw up.” You snap.

“You’ve been like this before though! Like last year’s big tournament you would barely talk to me.”

“That’s not true!” Although it kind of was just not the reason he thought.

“Oh yeah? What about at training camp you wouldn’t talk to me then either, you didn’t even eat with us you just sat on your own.” He threw back.

“Yeah, cause I have anxiety!” The words left your mouth before you knew it. Kuroo looked taken back.

“What?” His brow furrows, “Since when?” He’s not sure what to believe. You’re not surprised since you have worked very hard to hide it from everyone, accidentally sabotaging your own relationship without even knowing it. 

“Since forever. I just never told anyone.” You quietly say, ducking your head down.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You didn’t even need to look up to see the hurt on his face, it was apparent in his voice. You start playing with your finger, tapping them in rhythms.

“I wanted to,” You mumble, “But whenever I do stuff changes and I didn’t want anything to change.” He shifts forward and you think he’s going to leave. Instead, he grabs your hands, stopping the pattern you had going. You look up.

“Did you think I would judge you?” He was staring straight into you, willing the truth to come out.

“Whenever I tell people they either don’t believe me and brush it off or treat me like I’m incapable of handling any amount of stress. I’ve never seen anyone react any differently so I was scared you would fall into one of those reactions and I didn’t know how I could handle that. I didn’t want my anxiety to be the thing to tear us apart. But I guess it still was.” By the end of your speech, your gaze has returned back to the floor, unable to hold eye contact for that long with him staring at you so strongly. You hear him sigh then you are pulled forward and into his arms. 

“I want to be your pillar of support. I want to be that third reaction that is one of acceptance, one that doesn’t drive you crazy.” He strokes your hair soothingly, his words making you tear up, “When you are ready I want you to tell me everything. From when you first noticed it, to where it is now, to how you deal with it, everything.” By now you are fully crying, absolutely collapsed into his chest. “I love you so much.” It gets muffled in his shirt but he hears it.

“I know, and I love you.”

It would take some time for Kuroo to get used to this change but slowly but surely he will be different from the rest and he will support you no matter what. Although he also respects your strength and knows you can handle your anxiety on your own, he is always there when you need it. He becomes the third unexpected and unheard-of reaction; acceptance.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #nekoma #kuroo #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #kuroo scenarios #kuroo hurt/comfort #kuroo x reader #hq kuroo

[vendettaparker]

Talking to the Moon [P.P]

Summary: When Peter’s identity is leaked, he is forced to leave you and his old life behind, shattering your heart in the process. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: ANGST, like straight up rip your heart out. Far From Home spoiler (kinda), Endgame spoiler (kinda)

a/n: so if you couldn’t tell this is based off of the song ‘Talking to the Moon’ by Bruno Mars. its a loose interpretation. i’ve been planning an angsty fic like this for a while. angst is my favorite genre of fic, especially when it has a hopeful or fluffy ending. so this one DOES have a hopeful ending and potential for a sequel,, so yuh, enjoy! <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Three years, two months, and 14 days. That’s how long it had been since Peter’s identity was leaked. That’s how long it had been since he left you. For good. 

     Peter had been frantic after that news broadcast aired. He webbed back to the compound immediately, crying the whole way. He was scared for himself, sure, but the fear he felt in the pit of his stomach for May, Ned, MJ, you. That was the reason for his tears now. He could hardly breathe by the time he made it to the compound. Happy, Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky meeting him as he burst through the large floor to wall windows in the main room. The frantic yelling, pleas, and cries coming from the main room were what alerted you to his presence. When you walked in he was a mess. Crying, heaving with anxiety about how scared he was. Peter had always been a sensitive, emotional boy, but he always got over his shit eventually. But this? This, seemed like the end for him. 

     You ran up to him, shushing him and holding him. Trying to tell him to simply “breathe”. All he could say, over and over again like a mantra was a schloo of “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your heart broke. How could fate be so cruel to the sweetest boy? The one who was the most deserving of all the happiness life could possibly offer. The rest of the team had shown up within the next hour. Happy, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and Pepper also present. Peter had calmed down slightly, but he knew, he just knew, this was the day he had to say goodbye. He had had this talk with Mr. Stark back when he had stopped his first villain, Vulture. Tony knew the type of sick monsters out there who would love to get their hands on the boy behind the Spider-man mask. He and Peter had developed a plan in the tragic case that Peter’s identity should be released, at least, not on his own terms. Tony’s plan was for Peter to run away. Leave. Take nothing with him but the clothes on his back, and even then burn those clothes the minute he could. Tony knew. He knew these dangers. And worse, he knew the consequences. 

     May had come to the compound the second she got the call. She knew as well. Peter knew. She knew. Tony, even in his grave, knew. Everyone knew. Everyone but you. 

     Peter had a getaway car and a destination ready within another hour. He wouldn’t disclose it to anyone. He took you aside, gently stroking your cheek to wipe the hot tears that never seemed to cease. “Hey, hey, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.” He whispered, choking up on every other word, trying to be stronger, just a little stronger, for you. “I have to go now. I’m so so sorry. I love you so much.”

     “It’s okay Peter,” You sniffled, pushing his bangs back and giving him a sad smile. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be here when you get back. Don’t worry.” 

     Peter’s lips quivered and he heaved another sob. “No, (Y/N). I-I’m not coming back.” You took your hand back as you felt the pressure of tears building behind your eyes. 

     “W-what? No, this—it’s just temporary. Until we can—Fury and Pepper—We can fix this.” You stuttered anxiously, hoping your words would convince him that this was okay. That everything would be okay. 

     “We can’t, (Y/N). It’s done.” Peter spoke, his voice hardly making it to a whisper. 

     “No!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to hold him closer. “Please. Please. Please. I-I can’t! You can’t! I—You’re all I have!” You were sobbing uncontrollably now. The weight of the situation finally caving in and crushing your heart and soul. “Please! I’ll do anything, I’ll protect you! Please!” 

     Your meltdown didn’t help Peter one bit, if anything, seeing how desperate you were to keep hold of him, to just love him; that broke him more. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. Please.”

     “How can I? You’re killing me.” You whimpered into his chest, tears soaking through his black sweatshirt. “I can’t— I just— I can’t!”

     The whole team heard. No walls were thick enough to block out the heartbroken sobs from the two teenagers in love. Fury was the one to finally bring an end to it. Nobody else having the heart to pry you from each other. Even Fury felt his own stoic exterior cracking. 

     You were in hysterics, clawing, and grabbing at Peter’s sweatshirt, hair, face, anything you could grab. It didn’t matter if you hurt him at this point, he’d heal. But if he left you, you knew you’d never recover. Fury had put you in a chokehold while yanking you back. Peter just heaved and heaved, his sobs getting louder and his chest getting tighter. May rushed over to him and took his hand, placing his head in her chest. 

     Fury yanked you back more, but you still refused to quit. Fury released his chokehold, not wanting to do any real damage to you. Right as you were released, Wanda came up behind you and placed her hands on your head, red magic already starting to swirl. 

     “No, please.” You wheezed, trying to get a fresh breath of air. “He’s all I have.”

     Wanda looked at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.”

     Without so much as a flick of her wrist, you were out, descending into darkness. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter left after that. The car taking him away, and you hadn’t seen him since. As the months went on you never really recovered. Never really felt whole again. You just survived. That was all. You went through the motions of everyday life, but never truly felt like you were living. Two weeks after Peter left, May left with Happy. They moved to California, living there ever since as well. They got married last year. You were all invited and everyone went. Everyone but you. You missed May and Happy, but it still hurt. Plus, you were busy anyway. After you graduated high school, you flung yourself into the avenger lifestyle, fully immersing yourself in it. You went on every mission possible. Did all the paperwork you could. You did anything and everything you could to keep yourself busy. Stop yourself from feeling the pain that had stopped feeling like a searing stab and had now turned into a dull ache. A new constant in your life. 

     Nights were the worst though. The only time you couldn’t be constantly avenging or working yourself to the bone on new suit technology. The only time you had to think and feel. The only thing keeping you going was the hope that Peter was still out there. Somewhere, anywhere, missing you as much as you were missing him. Watching the same moon you watched. Basking in the same sun that shined on you every day. Every horrible, miserable day. 

     “(Y/N)?” the quiet, soft voice of Pepper breaking you out of your headspace. You hummed a response and looked up at her, waiting for her to continue. “Did you hear what I said?”

     “No, sorry.” You responded sheepishly. Pepper’s gaze softened. She took in your lean figure and pale face, eyes seeming to be sunken in from the dark circles. “I was just finishing up this briefing of my last mission.” 

     “You went alone?” Pepper asked, concern washing over her features.

     “It was a simple one. Just took out a mob, was done in like, four hours.” 

      Pepper sighed. “(Y/N)—”

     “Pep, it’s fine. It was so easy, anyone could have done it.” You cut her off, turning back to your laptop, typing away. 

     “It’s not just that though. It’s all of this. This whole funk you’re in. The same one you’ve been in for years, (Y/N).” Pepper waved her hands around to emphasize her point. “We all see it. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. He wouldn’t want this.” 

     Your whole demeanor changed. The solemn, yet calm veneer breaking. “It doesn’t matter what he wants, Pepper! I didn’t want this. All I wanted was him. For the rest of my life. Nothing else would matter, as long as I had him to get me through it. But I don’t have him. I have nothing. He was it for me. He—” You sobbed, tears finally running down your face in an uncontrollable waterfall. “I feel like I died. Like I am just a spectator, no longer doing anything of interest to myself.” 

     Pepper pulled you into her so fast. She was always quick to console you. The months after Peter left she was the only one you could stomach seeing. “It’s okay. I know, shh, I know.” Pepper was tearing up now too. She knew you never got over it. But now seeing with her own eyes how broken you’d really become. The reality hurt. “He’s out there, okay? And it’s going to be okay. He’s okay. We’re okay.” 

     You just cried. That’s all you could do. The more you tried to talk about it the stronger the urge to cry was. Pepper just hummed and held you. Stroking your hair until you fell asleep. 

     When you woke up you were in your room. It was dark and the moon was shining through the opened window. You just stared at it, closing your eyes and imagining Peter was staring at it too. The same one. Thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Another few weeks went by. The same routine, the same empty feeling consistent in your body. Nothing changed. The revelation that you were, in fact, not okay didn’t fix anything. It still hurt. You were still broken.

     You were in the training room, sparring with Wanda when the melodic tune of your ringtone rang through the gym, echoing off the walls. You put your hands up in defense to stop Wanda from continuing the match. Wanda whipped her hands around and brought your phone to you in a wisp of red magic. 

     “Thanks.” You mumbled, wiping your sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand and taking the phone from the air. Wanda nodded and jumped out of the ring to grab her water bottle. 

     You looked at your phone still ringing, seeing an unfamiliar number, but taking in the location: Budapest, Hungary. You answered the call bringing the phone up to your ear “Hello?” You asked, shifting from one foot to the other waiting for a reply. A beat of silence pasted before you heard a tired, yet all too familiar voice on the other end. 

     “(Y/N)?”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker angst #marvel #far from home #avengers endgame #endgame #Tom Holland #song inspired #this made me emotional #i cried way harder than i shouldve #sad songs #avengers

[blessyourhondahurley]

Delicate

Flufftober prompt: Knuckle kiss Suptober prompt: “Missing him was dark gray, all alone” - Taylor Swift “Red” Random word: package 

(Read on AO3)

Dean sat back against his headboard, legs stretched out in front of him on the bed, ankles and arms crossed. The music blaring through his headphones was the playlist that no one else ever heard. It was the playlist he only listened to when Cas was out of the Bunker and he needed music playing in the background while he definitely was not pouting about it.

Taylor Swift sang, “missing him was dark gray, all alone,” and all Dean could think was you said it, sister.

He was working himself into a particularly deep funk when the bedroom door opened and the man in question slouched in. By the look of him, he'd had a rough time since they'd seen each other last. But he was only limping a little, and there wasn't a pool of blood forming at his feet, so Dean let a wave of relief crest over him. He stopped his music and tossed the headphones aside, jumping up to wrap his arms around his boyfriend.

“Careful,” Cas wheezed, stepping back to evade Dean's loving embrace. “Don't squeeze me too hard. I think I cracked a couple of ribs.”

“Shit, babe, really? Okay, let's get to the infirmary so I can check you over.”

Under the fluorescent lights of the sick bay, Dean got a good look at how stained and rumpled Cas's trench coat was. “Ew,” he said, dropping the corner of sleeve he'd been tugging on all the way down the hall. “First thing's first, take that off and throw it in the corner. I'll wash it later, or maybe burn it. Don't give me the look,” he added before Cas could react, “I'm kidding about the cremation. Probably.”

He pumped out some sanitizer gel and rubbed his hands together vigorously, then turned to the cabinets to grab fresh packages of bandages and disinfectant. When he turned back, he saw that Cas was still struggling to pull his arms out of the sleeves of his coat. His face was a mask of pain and frustration.

“Shit, let me help you, sweetheart.” Dean grabbed the shoulders of the trench and slowly maneuvered his boyfriend out of its folds. “Ribs bothering you that much, huh? Okay, unbutton the shirt, then, let me get a better view. Mmmm, yeah, that's the stuff.”

Cas shot him a death-glare. “Dean, please. I'm in a considerable amount of pain here.”

“Sorry, sorry. Couldn't resist.” He laughed and held his hands up in momentary mock-surrender, then his face turned serious and he went to work.

Twenty minutes later, ribs had been examined, bruises had been assessed, stitches had been placed, torn-up knuckles had been cleaned (and then kissed), and painkillers had been administered along with generous swigs of whiskey for both doctor and patient.

“M'pretty sure those ribs aren't broken. Hairline fractures at worst. If they're still bothering you just as bad by next week we can take you in for an x-ray, but they'll most likely tell you to ice 'em and rest 'em and let 'em heal. I'll make sure Sam takes you out of rotation for the next month or so.”

Cas grunted his agreement, eyelids starting to droop as the stress of the day and the pill/booze cocktail started to hit his system. Dean noted the exhaustion on his boyfriend's face and nodded.

“Okay, sunshine, time for you to hit the hay.”

“Will you come with me?” Cas asked plaintively. He always got a little needy when he was injured.

“'Course I will, man. You don't mind if I stay up a little bit longer and watch something on my laptop though, do you? I've just been sitting around the Bunker all day with my thumb up my ass waiting for you to get home, so I'm not sleepy yet.”

“As long as you're keeping the bed warm while you do it, I don't mind. In the morning I'll give you something better than your thumb,” Cas muttered as he pulled himself laboriously to his feet.

Dean snorted a laugh. “I won't hold you to that. Let's see how those stitches are treating you when you wake up. You might not feel too frisky. But... Rain check?”

“Rain check.”

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fluff #flufftober2021 #suptober21 #day 21

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 14

Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader

Words : 6689

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

********************************************************************

It had been three weeks since Dabi left and in those three weeks you hadn’t heard a peep from him. True to his word he never called you. Shoto seemed to be getting vague updates from Katsuki but nothing that could settle your nerves.

You threw yourself into working out to distract yourself. You refused to ever be weak again. Every day you got up early and hit the home gym that you built with Dabi’s money in his absence. You were surprised how good it felt to spend his money without his permission. You knew he had enough to go around, but it was almost like payback for him leaving you here without him.

The gym was simple. A treadmill, some free weights, and a punching bag.

The guys took turns coming to check on you. Shoto more than the others, which was fine with you considering he was the only one with the balls to spar with you. You didn’t know if they were scared of you, Dabi, or Katsuki. But whoever it was, they were keeping their hands to themselves. And that’s how you ended up here now pinned underneath Shoto’s knee.

“I told you, stop thinking so hard. Your moves are predictable, I can read your every move before you do it. You need to relax and trust your instincts.”

You shoved him off of you and sat up, putting your elbows on your knees.

“I knew I’d be rusty… but I didn’t think it’d take this long to get back into shape.”

Shoto handed you a water bottle and sat next to you. “Well you’ve always been good, but you’ve also relied on your quirk pretty heavily up until now. You’ll get there, just takes time.”

You sat for a while in silence. That’s another thing you appreciated about Shoto. His ability to find comfort in shared silence. He never forces a conversation or pushes you to talk about things you don’t want to.

“So how long can you stay this time?”

His mismatched eyes met yours with a guilty look. “Honestly I’ve already been here a little too long. My shift starts soon, and I have a long drive.” He sighed as he screwed the cap back onto his water bottle. “Last I heard from Bakugo there wasn’t really much change but they’re both still alive and well. I’m supposed to be hearing from him again sometime in the next few days. So, I should have a better update the next time I see you.”

You followed him to the front door, feeling your heart sink as you went. You hated this part. The part when they left. There wasn’t exactly a schedule, they just came and went when they could. It was incredibly lonely when it was just you and you were already getting anxious thinking about it. “I wish he’d just come home already. I hate being here alone…”

Shoto sighed with his hand on the door. “I can only imagine… I’ll see what I can do about getting you some better company. Maybe we can rework our shifts or something… I don’t know, but we’ll figure something out.” He reached a hand out and gently pressed it to your shoulder, “Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone, and for the love of god follow my idiot bothers laws.” His eyes twinkled, “Oh! That reminds me…ware your fucking collar… his words not mine.”

Your eyes bulged. Those where the first words you’d gotten from him since he left. Your fingers darted to your bare neck, “I-It’s charging… the battery doesn’t last forever.”

Shoto chuckled, “Well according to him you haven’t worn it for two days. He interrupted my last call with Bakugo just to tell me.”

“I guess I should have known he’d be watching the stats like the creep his is.” You rolled your eyes and tried to suppress the blush that was threatening to break out across your cheeks. Of course he was watching. Watching the tracker to make sure you were where you were supposed to be. Watching your vitals to makes sure you were staying healthy. Watching your call log to make sure you weren’t doing anything you weren’t supposed to be doing.

For the first time since he left you felt an odd giddy feeling. It reminded you of the feeling you’d get when you were in school and a boy you had a crush on liked one of your pictures on social media. It wasn’t direct interaction, but it was a reminder that he cared.

Shoto gave you a quick hug before leaving, reminding you to lock the door as he went.

As soon as you heard the security system signal that is was on, the empty feeling returned. You were alone again. By yourself. With only your thoughts to keep you company… how awful.

You dragged yourself over to the where your collar was charging and put it back on. Your fingers brushed over the familiar material. A warm feeling started to push through the empty feeling in your stomach as you thought about how Dabi was probably checking on you every chance he got. The least you could do was reassure him that you were okay.

Despite being able to talk again you had decided to keep up with the sign language. It was a good distraction and also something really helpful to know. You learned from Shoto that Izuku had learned sign just in case Katsuki went deaf, and he ended up teaching Shoto. So it seemed it could definitely come in handy down the road.

You also spent a great deal of time watching cooking shows and trying to learn some things.

You were never that great with cooking before, hell you didn’t even really know how to efficiently shop for groceries. You were rarely home, and when you were you were ordering in or letting Katsuki cook for you. But now that you were home alone for days at a time, you decided it was time you learn.

Tonight, you watched a video on how to sign different colors and numbers as you attempted to make rice balls. The chef made it look so easy in the video you watched earlier. But so far you were finding it to be incredibly difficult.

You were trying to take this time alone to improve yourself. Now that he wasn’t here it was easier to see how much you had relied on Dabi. You wanted him to come back to a new and improved you.

You sat down to dinner with your pathetic looking rice balls and fought to push down the empty feeling in your stomach once again. The loneliness killed your appetite, you could feel yourself sinking into a funk. Every day it got harder to convince yourself that eating was important, that getting out of bad even mattered, that working out was worth it.

But then you thought about what Dabi would say if he found out you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d probably bend you over his knee and spank you for even thinking about skipping a meal.

So even though your depressed brain tried really hard to convince you that you weren’t hungry, you shoved bite after bite into your mouth. He’d be livid if you so much as lost a pound while he was gone.

You thought about the way he loved to worship your body. How he groaned when his hands gripped your hips. How his hands traveled up your thick thighs and around to your ass before giving it a squeeze and… great… now you’re working yourself up.

There had been several times your needs had riled you up to the point where you had tried to take care of them yourself. But no matter what you did or how hard you tried, you hadn’t been able to get yourself off. Your hands were no comparison to Dabi’s.

You let out a frustrated growl as you dropped your plate into the sink.

Once again you had this burn in your core that was spreading and you were already frustrated knowing there was nothing you could do about it. You didn’t even have any toys to help and there was no way you could ask one of the guys to bring you one the next time they came. You flushed at the image of Shoto or Izuku handing you a vibrator.

With the ache between your legs only seeming to grow worse, you skipped to your bedroom, well Dabi’s bedroom, but you guess it was yours now too.

You were sweaty from your workout and was in desperate need of a shower which gave you the perfect idea.

You quickly stripped your clothing and stepped into the hot spray of the shower you quickly washed your hair and body before turning the hot water down a little to a nice room temperature.

With nervous hands you pulled the shower head down from it’s spot and played with the settings. You switched between them until you found one that seemed… promising?

The shower head slowly roamed from your neck to your chest, to your nipple. You sucked in a breath as you closed your eyes and tried to pretend that it was something or rather someone else. Your breathing picked up as the spray slowly moved further down until it reached the spot that was giving you all the trouble.

Suddenly a jolt of pleasure ran through you and you had to put a hand on the wall to keep yourself from falling over. A low moan fell from your lips and you rolled your hips against the pressure. “Oh god. Oh shit. YES!” It had been weeks since you last orgasmed and you could feel everything that had been building coming to a climax… literally.

Your breathing became erratic as you imagined rough callused fingers rubbing your clit while wet, sloppy lips mouthed at you neck. Your head swam with desire as you felt the familiar clenching in your core.

Then out of nowhere you felt your pleasure snap as your first orgasm in weeks washed over you in heavy waves. “FuUuck!” Your legs wobbled and almost buckled underneath you. Your orgasm seemed to go on way longer than any one you’ve had in recent memory. It just kept going and going till the point that you thought you couldn’t breathe.

Your legs crumpled underneath you and you fell as your orgasm finally finished.

After a few minutes you used your foot to turn the water off as your breathing finally started to even out.

Your heart practically leapt out of your throat as your collar started beeping with an incoming call. You answered it immediately in the hopes that it was Dabi.

“H-Hello?”

“Y/N!? Are you okay?”

That voice didn’t belong to Dabi but it was probably the second best option.

“Kats? Y-yeah I’m fine. W-why do you ask?” You sucked in a huge breath to help yourself come back down from your high.

“Dabi said he got an alert that your vitals were at dangerous levels. Apparently, your heartbeat was erratic… You workin out or somethin?”

You blushed and cleared your throat, “Or something.”

There was a brief silence on the other end before you heard a muffled curse. “Fuck, okay so you’re more than good.” You could almost hear the blush in his voice. “Sorry to interrupt… have a good night…”

Before he could hang up you panicked and shouted, “WAIT!”

“… Yeah?”

“How are you guys?” You hated how weak you sounded. How desperate you sounded for any update on their progress.

“We’re alive and making good progress. That’s all I can really say right now.”

“Good okay… hey uh Kats… please be safe. Both of you.”

“We’ll try… I gotta go now. Good night y/n.”

Before you could respond you heard the beeping, indicating that he had hung up.

Groaning you picked yourself up and made your way to the big comfy bed that just felt too big now that it was just you. You pulled one of Dabi’s shirts on that dwarfed you and queued up a movie on the TV.

Sleep didn’t take long to take you and your last thoughts were of how monotonous your life was now. You go to bed, wake up, work out, work on Sign Language, watch cooking shows, cook dinner, rinse repeat.

You just needed something to mix it up.

And your wish would be granted not even two days later when Kirishima showed up at your door with pointy toothed grin. “Hey Y/N! How’s it going? Gone crazy yet?”

“I think I went crazy years ago bud.” You giggled as you stepped to the side to let him in. Instead he just stood there looking at you funny. “So are you coming in or did you just drop by to stare at me and leave?”

“Oh! Right? Hold on… close your eyes! I have a surprise.”

You narrowed your eyes but complied with a sigh. “Kiri I swear if this surprise is a wet willy, I will hypnotize you and make you pee yourself.”

He was quiet as he tiptoed away quickly. Only moments later you heard the pitter patter of him trying and failing to sneak up on you. You knew he was next to you now, but you kept your eyes closed anyways.

“Kiri what are you—”

You shrieked as a wet tongue licked you from your chin to your ear. “WHAT THE FUCK KIRI!”

Your eyes bolted open to see a crying Kiri holding a puppy. He was laughing so hard you were scared he was going to drop the dog.

You reached out and yanked the puppy from him and could immediately feel yourself sinking into its soft fur. “Oh my goodness! Who is this sweat baby?”

You nuzzled into and started rubbing its soft ears.

“He is your new guard dog. Well he’s more of a guard puppy, but you get the point.”

He started to walk back towards his car, “Wait? Are you leaving already?”

He gave you a regretful look, “Yeah sorry princess, I only had time to come drop off your new friend. I have to go pick up my kid from school, but I think I’m coming back soon. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” With a wink he hopped into his car and sped away.

You were only sad for a brief moment before you scurried back inside with your new friend.

You plopped yourself down on the couch with the puppy sitting in your lap. He was a little ball of fur with big ole paws and floppy ears. From what you could tell he might be an Australian Shepheard. “What are we going to call you huh?”

The little furball cocked his head at you and started chewing on your fingers.

“Hmmm what about Buddy? No that’s cliché. Ajax? He was the strongest warrior in all of Greece.” You watched as the “warrior” in question sniffed his own butt. “Hm maybe not. What abouuuuut… Bravo?”

He looked at you and gave the cutest little “woof”

You smiled and scratched behind his ears. “Okay then Bravo it is. Welcome to your new home sweet boy.”

Bravo was exactly what you needed in order to break out of your slump. You could feel your serotonin rise every day as you bonded with him. He was keeping you company and also keeping you very busy. Between poddy training and teaching him basic commands he was a handful. He loved to follow you everywhere you went and nip at your ankles until you paid attention to him.

It was amazing how quickly Bravo was becoming the most important thing in your life. Since Dabi left you had frequent nightmares that often led to anxiety attacks once you woke up. But now you had a fuzzy four-legged friend who not only woke you up when you cried in your sleep but also laid on top of you until you calmed down. You almost laughed thinking about how Dabi would react when he came home. You knew he’d find a way to be jealous of a dog.

Bravo settled into a routine with you and he never let you out of his sight. He really had the potential to be an excellent guard dog. He was extremely smart, picking up new tricks and commands easily. He was perceptive. And most importantly he didn’t hesitate to attack any of the guys, in his cute puppy way, when they came to visit. He was one hundred percent a Mamma’s boy.

Today had been a weird one. It was officially a month since the boys left. You stayed in bed a little longer than usual but you had responsibilities now and Bravo wasn’t going to let you be sad all day. He decided growling and pulling on your blanket was the best way to get you attention.

“Bravo, no. I know you want to play, just let me be sad a little longer, and then we’ll go outside.” You knew he didn’t understand you, but it felt so nice to just talk to him even if he can’t respond.

Bravo continued to jump and bark at you obviously trying to get you play with him. You rolled your eyes as you threw the blanket off of you. “Alright, alright, I get it. Let’s go outside.”

You rolled out of bed and pulled your hair into a bun. It was cold out now, and it even looked like it might snow soon. You used to love the snow, but the older you got the more miserable it sounded. You pulled a pair of sweatpants and a baggie hoodie on and started to drag your feet towards the back door. “You couldn’t let me wallow for even a couple hours huh?”

You slid the sliding glass door open and Bravo took off into the backyard.

The sky was a dark and depressing shade of grey. You could see your breath escaping you and it made you shiver. “Okay Bruno let’s make this quick! It’s fucking cold…” You shoved your hands in your pockets as Bravo sprinted from one side of the yard to another before stopping to sniff a spot on the fence to pee. “Good boy Bravo… let’s go in now. Eat some breakfast, how does that sound?”

Snow started to fall and before long you could feel it soaking through your hoodie. “BRAVO! You little shit, come on it’s cold!”

He ran towards you like he was going to listen before turning at the last second and running off to the side. You groaned. You loved the dog, but it was times like this that reminded you how frustrating taking care of another living thing could be.

You took a couple steps towards him and he just stood there wagging his goofy little tale. You leapt towards him just for him to run off again in the other direction. “I swear Bravo, if you love me at all you will come to me right now!”

You tip toed towards him slowly, “Come on dude. It’s too cold.” You were so close now, you just needed to scoop him up. You jumped at him but again he leapt out of the way except this time… your foot slipped on some fresh snow on the concrete surrounding the pool… and in you fell.

The ice-cold water cut through you straight to your bones like a million needles. You gasped which was a huge mistake as you sucked in water into your lungs. Now the panic was setting in. The last time you were in this pool you drowned. And this time there was no Dabi to resuscitate you. There was no one here. You could die here, and no one would even know for days.

No, no, no, this was not the time to have a panic attack. You had to think. You had to get out of this pool. But you couldn’t, the only thing you could think was how cold you were, how painful the water in your lungs was, how the cold water felt like you were being stabbed. You vision was blacking out, your limbs were becoming numb, you finally started to try and swim, but your muscles were so sluggish. It was agony trying to get your arms and legs to cooperate. Were you going into shock?

You felt yourself sinking and there was nothing you could do. Your baggie hoodie and sweatpants were only getting heavier on your limbs. It was like you had forgotten how to swim. Or like one of those dreams where it doesn’t matter how hard or how long you keep swimming you never make it to the surface. You expected your life to flash before your eyes, but it didn’t. Instead all you had was fear. Fear and regret. And those almost weighed you down more than your soaked clothes.

You have unfinished business. You had a corrupt hero system to dismantle. You had a life to reclaim. You had… people who loved you, and you couldn’t leave them behind just yet.

You pushed as hard as you could now. You refused to give up. Just before you blacked out your head broke the surface. You struggled to stay afloat as you managed to get yourself to the ladder. You gripped it with all your determination. Your breathing was getting shallow but you didn’t know if it was the panic or the cold.

You screamed as you tried to pull yourself out of the pool. It hurt so bad. Your muscles sched and it was almost like they stopped working all together. You could hear Bravo barking as he paced the side of the pool. As soon as you got your upper body on the concrete Bravo took your sleeve in his mouth and tugged. It wasn’t enough to pull you out on his own, but it definitely helped.

Your body was wracked with shivers. You were shivering so hard it hurt. Your collar was beeping but you couldn’t bring your fingers up to push the button to answer. You were literally frozen… from the cold, from the fear.

The beeping just continued, and tears flowed down your cheeks. All you had to do was move your hands, you just needed to push the button, and you could answer, you could ask for help. You knew Dabi had to have been alerted that you were in danger by now. Someone had to be coming for you.

Bravo laid on top of you licking your face as you lost your mind. The beeping from your collar kept going, and you don’t know what possessed you, it must have been one last surge of adrenaline, your bodies last effort to save yourself. But your fingers crawled towards your collard and clicked the button.

“Y/N! Thank god! I’ve been calling! Are you okay?” It was Kats again. You were quiet for a while as you tried to cough up some water. “Y/n? Are you okay? Or is this another… false alarm?”

You sniffled, “I-I-I F-Fe-Fe-ll I-In T-The-Pool.”

“Uhm Okay? Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?”

A sob left you, “No! I-I’m Not O-Okay. I-I”

There was a muffled sound on the other end of the call, "Y/n, baby I need you to breathe. I know you’re scared. Can you get inside?”

“Dabi?” His voice filled you with the warmth you desperately needed, but it wasn’t enough to get your body moving. “No. I-Its t-too C-Cold. I-I-“

“Stop talking! Conserve your warmth. Shoto’s already on his way. He’ll be there soon baby. I’m going to stay on the phone with you until he gets there, but I need you to stay awake. Can you do that?”

Bravo curled up next to your neck and nuzzled into you while whining.

You don’t remember passing out. But when you woke up you felt like you were in an oven.

Your eyes slowly opened to find that you were under several blankets with Shoto sitting next to you with his hand on your forehead. “She’s still asleep… but I’m worried she’s getting sick. I’m pretty sure she has a fever.” He was on the phone with someone, “I keep going back and forth from trying to warm her up to cooling her down… Well what do you want me to do I’m not a doctor… Do you know anyone we can trust?” Whoever he was talking too was obviously not happy. “How do you suppose we do that?”

Your eyes closed and sleep claimed you once more. You tried to stay awake, but it seemed impossible. You didn’t even dream, you were just sucked into the black abyss.

The next time you woke up there was a cloth on your forehead and two voices whispering by the door.

“She probably needs an IV at this point. She’s been in bed for three days and she hasn’t eaten anything. Shoto this is more than just a cold. She’s really sick.”

You knew that voice belonged to Izuku. He sounded stressed out. Had he really said there days. There’s no way you had been sleeping that long.

“I agree, but where would we get one? Do you know how to set one up? No? Because neither do I. I swear all of you are crazy. First Dabi rips me a new asshole over the phone about how I was supposed to keep her safe, then Bakugo gives me shit for not being able to find her a doctor, and now you. I’m doing my best!”

You wanted to sit up and tell him you were fine. But you couldn’t because once again sleep was calling you back. The black abyss sucked you back in.

The next time you woke you felt slightly better, your head definitely hurt a little less.

“I can’t believe you idiots where hiding this from me? Did you not trust me, or did you just think you could dismantle the entire system on your own?”

When the fuck did Aizawa get here?

“You’ve been retired for years… we didn’t want to drag you into this.”

A brief silence passed, and it sounded like he was standing up from a chair, “Well I’m glad you did. She was in rough shape. The IV will help. Let me know if you need anything else. And I mean anything. Like you said… I’m retired now so I have a lot of free time.”

You managed to open your eyes, but had to squint at the bright light. “Was that Sensei?” Your voice sounded rough and foreign, but it was unmistakably yours.

Shoto’s mismatched eyes filled your vision, “Oh thank god you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

You tried to clear your throat but if felt like sandpaper, “Like shit…”

He climbed into bed next to you, “When I found you, you had hypothermia. I warmed you up but then you got really sick. I finally caved and had to call Aizawa. I don’t know how he knows how to set up an IV or how he even got his hands on all this medicine and medical equipment. But I’m not going to question it either.”

You leaned on him. “That was nice of him…” Your muscles still ached, and you you’re your skin was so sensitive. You just wanted to pass out again and wake up when all of this was over. “Where’s Bravo?”

At the sound of his name you felt a weight near your feet shift. He got up and made his way to you putting his head on your chest. His big fuzzy head was making you all warm and cozy. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“Y/n no, come on I need you to eat something. Seriously, it’s one of your laws, you have to eat, so you need to stay awake.”

You hugged your blanket to you. “I’ll eat when I wake up… promise.”

This time when you slept you had dreams waiting for you. They were all weird and generally involved your time at UA. You dreamt of sports festivals, hanging out with your friends, and training with Sensei. But for once you didn’t have a nightmare. Which was a blessing.

“Wake up… you need to eat something… open your eyes baby.”

You stirred and found that you were laying on top of something, or rather someone. A hand was wrapped tightly around your waist while the other was brushing your hair out of your face.

Your sleepy brain was desperately trying to figure out if you were still sleeping because this had to be a dream.

“Are you really here?”

A kiss was placed on your forehead, “Yes baby, I’m really here. And I really need you to eat something so you can get better.”

His words had your stomach growling, making your groan.

Your eyes opened to find his blue ones staring back at you. The amount of concern in them was startling. “I must look like shit if you’re looking at me like that.”

Dabi didn’t so much as crack a smile at your humorless joke. “Well by law I can’t lie to you… so yeah. You’ve definitely looked better.” His thumb brushed your cheek, “Nothing that can’t be fixed with a shower and a good meal though.”

He helped you sit up and fluffed some pillows behind you. “You don’t have to do all this. I’m feeling better now. I can do it myself—”

Dabi cut you off with a glare. “Does it look like I care. I’m sure you could take care of yourself, but when will you accept the fact that you don’t have to anymore. Stupid girl.”

He reached next to him and picked up a bowl of soup. “This will be easy enough on your stomach. You are going to eat every last bite, and then we are going to take a shower.”

He didn’t leave anything up for debate. It was a demand. “We?”

“Yes we. You’re not leaving my sight for the foreseeable future.” He held a spoon full of soup up to your mouth. You wanted to protest that you could at least feed yourself but quickly thought better when you saw the look he was giving you. He wasn’t to be challenged or questioned.

So, you accepted it and swallowed, your eyes never leaving his. You continued on like that until the spoon scraped the last bit of soup from the bowl. You could see the tension in Dabi’s clenched jaw. He was upset, possibly even mad.

Your eyes averted to your lap, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? What do you have to be sorry about?”

You played with hem of your shirt. Trying to look anywhere but at those intense blue eyes. “I fucked up. I was careless and I… I fell into the pool.” Your fists clenched, “It wouldn’t have been so bad if I wasn’t so fucking weak. I panicked, and it put me in danger. I’m sorry.”

His fingers intertwined with yours and pulled them to his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and you are most definitely not weak.” He kissed the tip of your nose, “Look at me please.”

It was so rare that he said please. It sent butterflies through your stomach. You raised your eyes to his once more, but this time they were much softer. “Your panic is totally understandable. If anything, it’s my fault because I’m the reason you have fucking PTSD.” He pressed his forehead to yours, “I feel like no matter how hard I try, I just end up hurting you. Even when I’m not here, my actions still have consequences.”

“Well you know what I think? I think I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you. I think you have saved me in so many ways, and you have been there when it matters most. Like right now.” You tucked yourself under his chin and hugged him until you felt the tension bleed from him as he relaxed into your hold.

You felt his chest rise and fall as you both just sat there holding each other.

Finally, he pulled back and sighed, “Okay as nice as it feels to hold you again… you kinda stink… can we go shower now?”

You frowned, “Hey! I’ve been sick. It’s not like I could bathe myself. Did you want Shoto to do it for me?”

He growled and threw you over his shoulder. “You’re lucky. If I wasn’t worried about nursing your sick ass back to health, that comment would have gotten your ass in trouble.”

It wasn’t until Dabi was stripping you down in the bathroom that you remembered Bravo. “Hey! Where’s Bravo?”

Dabi froze, “Who the fuck is Bravo?”

You rolled your eyes, “My dog asshole. Bravo. Where is he?”

He growled, “That little shit wouldn’t let me near you, so I threw him out.”

You pushed his hands away from you, “Excuse me… You WHAT? It’s cold outside. Go bring him inside right now!”

He grabbed your flailing hands and held them down at your sides. “I said I threw him out, not outside. If I had to guess the little runt is probably sitting outside the door to the bedroom, waiting to sink his teeth into my ankles the second I open the door. Relax.”

He let go of your hands and continued to undress you, and then himself. “You be nice to him. That little ankle biter is my new best friend.”

“Hmmm I don’t think so.” His arms wrapped around your now naked body. He picked you up like you weighed absolutely nothing and walked you over to the shower. “I think I’m your best friend.”

You smirked as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Oh you think so huh? So we’re friends now? That seems like a demotion to me…” You kissed his chest before pulling away. “Last time I checked friends don’t shower together… so I guess I’ll just get out and wait my turn—”

“Don’t you dare step out of this shower.” His fingers dug into your hips. “I haven’t seen you in a month, and I had to come home to find you sick and skin and bones.” He leaned in and you could feel his breath on the shell of your ear, “You are mine. I don’t think you truly understand what that means.” He kissed the side of your head, “You are my best friend.” He kissed your forehead, “My responsibility.” He kissed your cheek, “My confidant.” He kissed the tip of your nose, “My lover.” He kissed you jaw. “My partner.” His lips hovered over yours for a brief moment, “My everything.”

His lips smashed onto yours and you could feel all of your little puzzle pieces fit together again. The emptiness you had felt the past month evaporated. You felt whole once more.

There wasn’t anything overly sexual about this kiss. For the first time since you’ve known him, this was the first time Dabi had ever kissed you just to kiss you. And so you let him. You just stood under the water with him and kissed until you started to get lightheaded.

He must have felt your shift because he pulled away from the kiss and pulled you to lean on him. Without another word, he ran a washcloth over your skin and cleaned you up.

You remembered back to the days he’d help you bathe when you couldn’t walk. He’s taken such good care of you without asking for anything in return. So much as changed in the past few months, but there was something about this moment that felt permanent. Like no matter what happens Dabi will always be there to clean you up afterwards.

Dabi could feel the stress and the worry that had piled up over the last month melt away with every rise and fall of your chest. You were safe, you were okay, you were alive, you were in his arms.

Something almost broke in him when he heard the fear in your voice that day. When Bakugo called you after you fell in the pool. He had never felt so fucking helpless. He had a constant eye on your vitals after that. Calling his brother every single time there was even a tiny change. He’d never tell you this, but for a brief moment when Shoto couldn’t get your temperature down he panicked. He couldn’t lose you. Somewhere deep down he knew it was irrational to think you were going to die. But he couldn’t help it. You were sick, and only getting worse and he was thousands of miles away.

There was a constant nagging at the bag of his head of what if he didn’t get back in time. What if he didn’t get to say goodbye. What if… what if…

No. He’s fine now. You’re fine now. He had freaked out for no reason. You’re here, you’re safe, you’re alive, you’re his.

You had eaten the soup, showered, and taken your medication without even a hint of protest. You were being such a good girl for him. Doing everything he asked, never leaving his side.

It was obvious you missed him, and for some reason that made him feel… pride.

Now he had you curled up with him on the couch eating ice cream as you showed him all the things you had trained Bravo to do. You had a glint in your eyes as you commanded the furball to sit, lay down, roll over, and whatever the fuck else you had taught it.

Dabi had this weird feeling settle over him. Sitting here with you in his lap, as you ate ice cream and played with your dog. It felt like you had become… a family.

Family… was never a word that had inspired positive feelings for him. He had terrible memories of his old home life. He had a few fond memories of his siblings, maybe even some of his mother. But everything was overshadowed by the hell his father put him through.

But now he could feel that frozen heart of his, start to thaw out. He still struggles convincing himself that he doesn’t deserve you, and sometimes he still thinks you might be better off with Bakugo. But for now, you were his, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

His hand snaked down and spread out over your stomach and his chin rested on your shoulder. He watched Bravo hop into your lap and had to admit he was a little jealous of the little guy.

“Aw who’s a good boy? Who’s mommy’s good boy?” You squished Bravos cheeks together and kissed his nose.

“Okay enough with the dog. You’ve been loving on the dog since I got home. It’s my turn.”

You scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you feel threatened by a puppy.”

He flipped you over so you were chest to chest with him laying on top of you, caging you to the couch. “Of course I’m not threatened… but I’ve been gone a while and the mutts hogging all the attention.”

You giggled as he nuzzled into your neck demanding that you love him. “I can’t believe big, bad, who’s your daddy, Dabi is jealous of a little puppy.”

Your hands moved, one to his hair and the other snaked under his shirt and scratched his back. He hummed as his lips pressed a quick peck to your jaw. “I missed you…”

Your hands continued to trace patterns up and down his back. “I know. I missed you too.”

His breathing started to slow and he squeezed you closer to him. He started mumbling things as he slipped into the first peaceful sleep he’s had since he left.

“What was that? Dabi you’re mumbling honey.”

He let out a huge sigh and mumbled again only this time slightly louder, “Said ‘m gonna putta baby in you.”

*************

*The Laws* 1. No fucking shrugging 2. No drugs 3. No saying sorry for something that isn't your fault 4.We work on communication every day 5. Wake up whenever the hell you want 6. No locked doors 7. We eat three full meals a day 8. No means no, no negotiations 9. We work on exercise every day 10. Ice cream must be kept in stock at all times 11. Accept help when it is offered 12. No lying 13. I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.

************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi @sarahschance

#bakugo katsuki imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bhna bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #dabi my hero academia #dabi imagine #dabi #yandere dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi bnha #mha dabi #dabi todoroki #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #my hero academia

[enthusiasticharry]

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

[cyncerity]

Hi. So when I read your giant!techno nom fic. The protective vore one. I actually thought that it was one of the best fics of vore catergory that i ever read. So is it alright if you can write some more like one about g!techno playing hide and seek with the other sbi but with noms? Or it can be nap time and techno nommed them for better sleep. Or you don't have to use these at all, or even write it. This is my first time asking for something on tumblr so im not expecting anything. But it would make me squeal if you do.

Thank you.

more giant techno noms more giant techno noms more giant techno noms more giant techn-

I’m also gonna put this in the same universe as the last one because screw it I like that au-

((I’m so sorry this took so long I’ve been in a funk lately where all I do is eat, sleep, and rewatch Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood an eighth time))

tw: vore

It had been a long few weeks for the tinies. Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy had been left alone in the house to fend for themselves as Techno went out to do…whatever Techno does. He had left some food out for the three tinies and said he’d be back in a week, but it was starting to be closer to two and a half. The small hybrids had run out of the food Techno had left them a while ago, which wasn’t a huge problem since there was other food in the house, but the real problem was that the food was far less accessible than they had hoped. None of them had borrowed in so long that they all almost completely forgot how to do it. And the fact that there was almost nothing to help them move from place to place didn’t help much, either: Techno had always carried them from place to place, especially after Philza had lost use of his wings.

By the time Techno got home the trio was exhausted. Every muscle ached from overuse and their bones felt like they would collapse any second. But despite the pain, the joy they felt as Techno walked through the sort was immeasurable.

Techno didn’t look much better than the tinies. He hobbled through the door with an array of new bruises and scars, looking ready to collapse. Yet despite this, his mind went to the borrowers he lived with. His family. He had to make sure they were ok before he would let himself relax. Thankfully, it wasn’t that hard to find them. Literal seconds after he closed the door behind him he heard the all to familiar shriek of the youngest borrower screaming his name from the kitchen counter.

He ran to him and found Phil and Wilbur nearby, carefully scooping them into his hands. “I’m so, so sorry I was gone for so long. I honestly thought it would be a week, but shit hit the fan and I couldn’t get home that fast, believe me, I tried. I’m so sorry.” The tinies nodded, believing Technos words wholeheartedly. They couldn’t be sure what Techno did as a “job,” but if it was anything similar to what he was doing when he met them, they could excuse him for being a little late.

Techno could’ve cried tears of joy seeing the borrowers again. Though it had only been a few weeks since he had last seen them, he missed them. Before he met them he had gone years without contact from other people, but after being with them he couldn’t imagine being alone again.

The giant piglin hybrid brought the three to the couch with him, along with a plate of food for the tinies. It was no use hiding how hungry they looked from Techno. Sure, they hadn’t starved to death, but food hadn’t exactly been abundant. So the next hour was spent with the borrowers eating on the couch and Techno asking about how the borrowers were doing physically and mentally, and eventually it led to Techno telling them all the cool things he saw on his trip.

Techno eventually began to fall asleep sitting there. He was exhausted from his trip, and wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep. The tinies apparently noticed this, too, though, as they began to climb up his clothes and rest on his chest as he laid back. As he was closing his eyes, though, Philza hesitantly walked closer to Technos ear.

“Techno, can I ask for a favor?”

One of Technos eye peek open to look at the tiny bird man, who was standing nervously next to his head. “Sure, anything.”

“Can you swallow me…?”

Techno…honestly should have been more surprised. The last time he had done it was when they were kidnapped in that alleyway, and it honestly still stung to bring up, especially to Phil, whose mangled wings served as a constant reminder of the event. But Techno and the tinies talked about what it was like to have someone inside you, and what it was like to be inside someone else. Even if they teased each other for it near constantly, it had come to the point where none of them were afraid of admitting how much they enjoyed it at the time. So instead of responding, he glanced quickly down to Tommy and Wilbur to verify if they were asleep or not. Neither were, and both were staring up at Techno and Phil as if waiting for something, which the piglin hybrid figured out pretty quickly.

“You two wanna go with your dad?” Techno asked. His response came in the two scrambling off his chest as quickly as their tired bodies would let them and running over to Phil, who laughed at the sight. Techno sat up on one of his elbows and laid out a hand for the three.

They all got on, Phil looking especially relieved since he was sure that his request would backfire. They all just wanted, or more or less needed a comforting and warm place to sleep after all their struggles and wanted the reminder that Techno was back and cared about them.

Techno slipped them off his open palm over his open mouth and felt the three fall into his maw, carefully avoiding his boar-like tusks. He closed his mouth and began lathering the three in warm saliva so their trip down would be as painless as possible. The tinies immediately began feeling the tenseness in their muscles fade as the natural heat from Techno’s mouth surrounded them and made them feel drowsier than they already were. Phil, upon seeing the exhaustion on his sons faces that he was sure mirrored his own, pat Technos tongue as a sign that they were ready. Almost immediately they felt their surroundings shift and clung close together as the esophagus dragged them deeper into the giants throat. They felt Technos fingers push against the bulge they made in his throat as a deep instinctual purr rang out around them. Techno would always deny that he could purr or that he had ever purred around them, but all three of the tinies knew better.

Soon enough they dropped into Technos brood pouch, the giants purring becoming immediately louder as he rubbed them from outside the stomach. The second Wilbur felt Techno massage them, he was out like a light. Tommy laughed at him before walking over to his older brother and curling against him, falling asleep shortly after.

Phil looked towards his sons before going to where he felt the front of the second stomach and was and rubbed circles in the organs walls, hearing Techno sigh in contentment above him.

“Thank you, mate.” Phil said, feeling himself start to fall asleep in the warmth of his friend. “Anytime, Phil.” Techno responded. The small avian felt a final pat at him before falling into a deep and comfortable sleep.

#also I know I messaged you about this before but this is still one of the nicest things I’ve ever read #so thank you <3 #cyncerity #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #mcytg/t #mcytgt #tw vore #giant!techno #tiny!wilbur #tiny!phil #tiny!tommy #Giant Techno AU #cynwrites

[angelswatchingover]

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how, if Supernatural wanted a nostalgic call back in their series finale, instead of wiping out everything the boys had ever learned, they should have called back to what is generally considered the best episode of the entire series, Swan Song. And a brilliant way to do that would have been to have Jack be the narrator, paralleling Chuck in Swan Song. Ugh! I can just imagine it...

Jack’s voice over flashbacks montage-style: On May 15th 2008, Dean Winchester was dragged to hell after making a deal to save his brother’s life. On that day thousands of angels, the most powerful weapons in the universe, converged on hell all with a singular mission: to save the Righteous Man. Most didn’t know that the true nature of their quest was to start the Apocalypse that would change the world. Most didn’t make it out alive… For 40 years they fought, battling hoards of demons and even their Fallen brethren in the unfathomable depths of hell’s expanse. None of the angels knew which one of them would find and raise the man from the pit since this was a chapter that Chuck hadn’t thought to write carefully. By chance or fate or purely the passion of his will, the angel Castiel was the first to find Dean Winchester. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have been a special angel, just a grunt in a vast celestial army. But the moment he gripped Dean and raised him from perdition became the most important moment in the history of the universe. In that moment everything changed. That’s where this part of the story began. And here’s where it ends.

The episode continues on with Sam and Dean living post-Chuck life but Dean is still passing out drunk in mourning and struggling with the loss of Cas. Sam still does laundry and Dean still cuddles Miracle but it’s Sam who finds the Pie Festival in hopes of getting Dean out of his funk. At the festival, we get an emotional moment between Sam and Dean. Dean tells Sam that he can’t shake the guilt and they need to get Cas back. They decide that family doesn’t end with blood and they’ve got to do what they can to save him. Maybe Book of the Damned, maybe Rowena, maybe Jack. Who knows? You get the idea... they research.

Next Jack narration: Castiel, of course, was never supposed to be exceptional. Angels weren’t created with free will and he was no different, but there was always something special about him. He was the angel with the crack in his chassis but from that crack sprung a miracle… an angel who would chose free will and chose love.

Back to Sam and Dean. They prepare to save Cas. Dean prays to Jack who of course, is on board to help save his father. It was great to see Bobby in the finale and hear about heaven’s changes so maybe the spell requires a soul from heaven or something. Jack brings Bobby and he reveals that Jack is fixing heaven and that Bobby is now with Karen and he sees Mary and Ellen and Rufus and they are all happy. They plan the spell to save Cas. Also, Sam and Dean have a heart to heart about what’s next. They both want to keep saving people and hunting things, but maybe do it smarter and also have a life.

Another break to Jack narration: What does it mean for an angel to love? For Castiel, it meant questioning his faith and finding it again in his new family. It wasn’t always an easy journey, but he had two good teachers in the Winchesters. Sam taught him to always keep fighting, no matter the circumstances. And Dean taught him how to love with his whole heart and to be willing to do anything for that love. And sometimes, it was just to love life itself, in all of it’s simple pleasures. The flavors of a PB&J sandwich, movie marathons in the Dean cave, listening to Dean’s top 13 Zepp traxx, and late at night when its quiet in the bunker, deep talks with Dean over a glass of good whiskey. Love, it turns out, would be worth it all.

Back to our story – The ritual goes south, of course, and they get caught by the Empty. It isn’t going to let Castiel go and it’s going to kill Dean, but Cas rips out his grace so that he’s not an angel any more and the Empty has no claim on him. He and Dean are expelled back to Earth to hugs from Sam and Jack. Cas seems sad and worried about being a human, but Dean tells him he’s got a home with the Winchesters and tells Cas how much he is valued, not for his angel powers, but just for who he is (paralleling what Cas had told Jack). This eventually leads to an awkward ‘me to’ or ‘I love you too’ and a kiss.

Begin ending montage of Sam, Eileen, Dean, and Cas living life: on hunts, at the beach – toes in the sand, pregnant Eileen, a kid or two at what looks like a family picnic with our main four and the Wayward ladies and Garth etc., driving down a back road in the Impala, injuries and fights, in the bunker on the phone with hunters, aging together, you get the idea… a balanced life.  

Final cut to Jack narration: So, was it all worth it? The pain and the struggle and the losses? I think it was. Because at the end of the day what’s all of this about? It’s about the life we choose and the bonds that we make along the way. It’s about learning to love someone else and learning to love yourself. And above all, it’s about knowing that we fight for each other because we aren’t in this alone.

Fade to black.

One of the things I loved about Swan Song was that narration. It gave the whole episode a feeling of gravitas that 15x20 severely lacked. If Jack had narrated this as the new God the way Chuck had, it could have hit on SPN’s most important themes: love, always keep fighting, you are not alone, family don’t end with blood. Instead what we got was a hollow callback to times before all of those lessons learned and growth. Excuse me while I got punch a wall.

#Supernatural #15x20 #Carry On #Dean Winchester #Castiel #Sam Winchester #Destiel #15x20 Destiel #alternate ending #Jack #should have narrated #and they should have saved Cas #and had lives!