#just give him time and a few windows and give the players time and patience too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enthusiasticharry · 4 years ago

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 13.3k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : ahh, it is finally here! i honestly can’t explain how excited i am for you all to read the first part of checkmate, it truly is one of my lil’ baby. a few things before i shut up and let you read, the chess maybe confusing to some of you (me too at some points) but you only need to take not on whether she wins or not really. this is enemies to lovers, so harry is a bit of a *ahem* dick but what do we expect? this is just the first part and a brief introduction (brief? 13k words? okay hannah, ahah) but i truly do hope you enjoy :)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit language, main characters being horrid to each other and the ol’ banger of sexism in chess (the background on this is insane)

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈 here

Upon entering the village hall, YN realised a few things. The first thing she realised was that after casting her eyes around the large room she was in, she certainly didn’t feel as though she fit in. The second thing she realised was that the clock was ticking and if she didn’t speed up, she was probably going to miss the slot to put her name down for the tournament. Taking a few steps forward, thoughts fluttered around her head about whether or not this was the best idea. She hadn’t played the game in a few years with other people, and here she was, about to put her name down to play the biggest tournament closest to her, in one of the neighbouring towns.

After a few seconds, she knew that she would be not only letting herself down, but also her grandmother and if she wasn’t doing this for herself, then she was certainly doing this for her grandmother.

A desk had been set up at the front of the hall, and two men wearing crisp beige shirts sat behind it. Why they were wearing beige of all colours? YN would never know. They certainly didn’t look like the most inviting people to greet her. She peered behind them for a few seconds, her eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of the rows upon rows of square tables with green and white chessboards sat on top of them. She hadn’t seen this many chessboards in one room for a long time, and a part of it made her feel quite comfortable. The people that were already there were all stood in a group around what she presumed was a chessboard — she was just making a wild guess that it was that, but she had a slight suspicion that was the case. It was at this point she noticed the ‘SIGN UP HERE’ sign that was placed in front of one of the men, and that was who she walked up to.

He obviously noticed that she was there, but he never lifted his eyes up from table in front of him, “Name?”

YN was taken aback by how gruff his voice sounded, and more so by the way he spoke to her without even lifting his eyes, “YN YLN.”

It was at this point that he did look up, and so did the person sat next to him. It was at this point she, also, started to feel a little more out of place than before, as though the eyes upon her were ridiculing her for just being stood there. If her name hadn’t tumbled from her lips, being the way that it is, would they have even looked up at her? She would never know.

“The dance class has been rearranged for another night.” The man is quick to say, dropping his eyes back to the desk in front of him.

“I’m not here for the dance class.” She says, lifting her hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, “This is the chess tournament, is it not?”

YN watched as the men turned to look at each other briefly, the one who hadn’t spoken to her shrugging his shoulders before they turn back to look at her again, “Do you own a clock?”

She shakes her head, “I don’t.”

The men, yet again, turn to look at each other. She wasn’t quite sure why she needed to own a clock, but if it was the first question they asked after her name, she was sure that it must have some significance in the games she was about to play. Would she have to invest in a clock of all things with her non-existent money?

“There’s a clock-sharing system here.” He says, “If you don’t have one, you’ll have to share with your opponent and if they don’t have one, come back to us and we’ll borrow you one.”

“Thank you.” She nodded her head.

When YN was younger, and she learnt how to play chess, she was never taught about clocks. Her grandfather had taught her by giving her endless amounts of books that he had stored away in the back of the bookshop that he owned that had nobody wanted, or ones that he already had. At first, YN didn’t want them either. At the time she was gifted them, she didn’t do much with her days apart from stare out of the window of her small attic bedroom, watching the clouds as they floated past in all their different shapes. She’d often try and see if she could spot any shapes within the white, but she could hardly bring herself to do so most days. It had taken her three days to finally pick up the books that her grandfather had left for her, and even then she only stared at them. She suspects that a part of her just wasn’t ready to read the books yet, and she was okay with that.

When she did open the books, YN fell in love with them, and more importantly she fell in love with the game of chess. Learning about different experts and grandmasters and analysing their games so much that she could remember every move they made, and even critique them if they made a mistake that she had spotted. She remembers the first ever passage she read about chess even to this day, in the book that rested upon the top of the pile her grandfather gave her: ‘Chess for beginners: a guide to the game.’

What is Chess?

Chess is a two player game, that requires skill and patience. Each player starts with sixteen pieces played on a square board, made of 64 smaller squares. The sixteen pieces include: eight pawns, two knights, two bishops, two rooks, one queen and one king. The goal is for each player to try and checkmate their opponents king. Checkmate is a threat to the opposing king which no move can stop, therefore ending the game.

The game is taken in turns, each player moving their pieces to different squares on the board. One player (playing “white”) and the other (playing “black”), must move the pieces sticking to the rule of how they move, they can’t just go rogue! White will always start the game, and the player playing white will be lucky to be doing so, because they always have an advantage!

That was the passage that first introduced her to chess, and if it wasn’t for that passage, she doesn’t believe she’d love the game as much as she does. It was a passage that gave her the basics, and also intrigued her to know all about the rest of it.

“I forgot to ask.” The man starts speaking again, “What is your rating?”

“I don’t. . .” She starts, shaking her head, “I don’t have a rating.”

“Listen, sweetheart.” The man says, and she has to stop herself from physically shuddering at the name he gives her, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I am.”

He shakes his head, letting out a long sigh as he does so, “We don’t have a women’s section.”

She tries her hardest to not let it show that the words that he says don’t sit with her in the right way, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’ll put you in the beginners section, then.” He says, jotting something down again, “You’ll be comfortable there.”

“I’m no beginner.” She says, “And I don’t want to be comfortable.”

The thing that annoyed YN the most wasn’t the words that he said to her, even though those did annoy her more than she could explain, it was the way that they looked at her. They looked at her as though she wasn’t good enough to play, as though she shouldn’t be putting her name down for chess competition and she should have been looking for the dance class instead. If they actually knew her (she didn’t want them too) they would know that dancing certainly wasn’t for her, she had two left feet at most.

A few years ago, back when she played chess regularly, she wouldn’t have even cast an eye in their direction, never mind allow it to effect her in the way that it is. The first time she played someone that wasn’t her grandfather, it had been the top player from the local chess team he played for. If she remembers correctly, the game was over in all of thirty-two moves, and she didn’t even break a sweat. Her opponent, however, definitely had broken a sweat and she could tell that by the way he kept rubbing his forehead and by the way his leg bounced up and down. It was quite annoying, and it was probably why it took YN thirty-two moves and not her average of twenty-six, but it was still very impressive of the young girl. The thing that she had when she was younger, though, was no care for what other people thought of her as young girl playing chess, because it was a game that tested your skill and not your gender.

“You’re an unrated player.” He shrugged, “I’ll have to put you in beginners, with players that have ratings under 600.”

YN hadn’t taken much notice of ratings in Chess Weekly, the magazine that she got the majority of her chess knowledge, and the thing that had lead her to find out about the tournament in the first place, but she had picked up that ratings only start to become important when you become an expert, and that’s when the rating is over 2000.

“Do beginners still get a prize?” She asks.

“Yeah.” He says, “But it’s only fifty.”

She was doing this for the money, and she knew that fifty wouldn’t be enough for her to continue on the way that she was. She needed more, and the prize that Chess Weekly had listed was more than fifty pounds, and that was what she was going for.

“And the other section? What is the prize for that?”

He took a second to answer.

“Two-fifty.”

That was the prize that she had seen in the magazine, and that was the one that she had set her hopes on winning, the one that she had every belief that she would win if she entered. She needed the money. Her grandmother needed the money. It was hard after her grandfather died, hard for them to conjure up the money to not only pay the bills for the house, but also pay for new stock in the bookshop. No matter how many times YN had tried to convince her grandmother that the best thing to do was to sell the bookshop, and give them some money to make them feel a little more comfortable, her grandmother always refused. The bookshop was her husbands livelihood, and YN grew to understand that and grew to know that was why she wouldn’t give up the shop, no matter how much they needed the money. It was the reason why YN was here, trying to win the grand prize that would help them a little more with their struggles.

“Can I go into that section?” She asks, and the man’s lips part slightly.

“Well—“ He clears his throat, casting his eyes to the man next to him, “There isn’t a rule to say that you can’t.”

“Then put me in that section.” She says, ignoring the looks she receives from both of the men, “Please.”

He nods his head, “That’ll be five pounds please.” She drops the note upon the table, which he immediately takes and places in the small tin he has with him, “Thank you. Play starts in Twenty minutes.”

“Thank you.”

The man passed her a card to fill out and a pencil, “All the luck to you, sweetheart. There’s two players in there with ratings over 1600, and there’s also an expert!”

“Is the expert playing?” She asks.

He shakes his head, “He isn’t.”

“Then I don’t have anything to worry about.” She offers him a small smile, “Thank you, again.”

She walked away from the table, taking a few steps until she wasn’t in earshot of the two men. The entire conversation rested heavily on YN’s mind, but at least she made it out of the other side relatively unharmed. She looked down at the card she had been given, with her last name scribbled on the top line and a space for her to put her rating. She uses the small pencil she had also been given to draw a large zero in the box, sighing with happiness after she’d done so. There was still a large group of people stood around a board, and it was at this time that she decided to make her way over to the large group.

What she was about to walk into, she wasn’t quite sure, but she couldn’t help but be curious about what it was. She found a nice position by an opening, where she could see two men sat at a table, with a round of chess already on the go.

“Who are they?” She whispers to the man next to her, without even an ounce of hesitation in her voice.

“That’s Harry Styles. He’s an expert.” He immediately whispers back, “And that’s Mitch Rowland, he’s a tournament win away from becoming an expert too.”

She thinks that Harry Styles is the one to the left of her. The way he sits with his elbows either side of the board, his face stern as he moves the pieces in front of him. They were moving them very quickly and she presumed that they were playing skittles, or on simpler terms: speed chess. YN wasn’t the biggest fan of speed chess, but from the way the man kept picking up piece upon piece without so much of hesitation, she guessed that not only was he the expert, but he must also a skilled speed chess player. She had a talent for spotting the best players out of a bunch, even if there weren’t the best to start with.

“And over.”

Her lips part slightly as she hears the northern drawl slip out of his lips, in a deep voice that she certainly hadn’t expected. He looked a tad older than she was, but that was a given, seeing as though everyone in this room looked older than she was. He looked to possible be in his late twenties, and apart from his curly brown hair that peaks her attention at first glance, the chunky rings that sit on quite a few of his fingers or the brown knitted jumper he has upon his torso also do so. It certainly wasn’t a conventional look upon the majority of chess players that she had met before, even though the number was limited. She wondered whether it was the slight roll at the neck, or the green detailing on the arms that drew her attention in more than his fluffy brown curls.

“You’ve done it again, H.”

The man who you were guessing to be Mitch replies, extending his hand out to shake his opponents hand. From the shortened use of his name, she wondered whether or not they knew each other. If they didn’t, then it certainly wasn’t the most conventional way to greet a stranger having just lost to him. The two of them stood up, and that was when she noticed the high-waisted lime-green trousers that he also wore, pairing them with a pair of vans of all things. He looked more put together than the rest of the men in the room, which wasn’t too hard to do given the rest of the outfits within the room. The group disperses soon after, and its at this point she noticed the bulletin board being put up.

YN tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, and makes her way over to the board. Once she sees a man stood there, finishing pinning the last through names up, she can’t help the words that slip out of her lips, “How do they arrange the pairings?”

“Usually by rating first round.” He says, closing the plastic covering that maintains the board to be in the way he had put it, “Then winners play winners, losers play losers.”

He walks off after that, and that’s when she finally spots her name:

‘YLN - Unr - White’ and it was next to, ‘Jones - Unr - Black’

She was at first shocked to be playing white, and second shocked that she was playing someone else who was unrated. The men at the table must have really been giving her a hard time if someone else who was unrated was playing in the main section. It just proves that the two of them were really out to make it so she wasn’t supposed to play in the game because she was unrated, but she knew it was really because she was a woman and she knew that.

It said that she was playing on board twenty and after flicking her eyes around the rest of the boards, she realised that it was the last board. It was just another thing that she knew was because she was an unrated woman. She just hoped that whoever her opponent was wouldn’t mind that she was a woman. Chess, as much as it was a sport played by both women and men, it was a sport that still held the misogyny that women shouldn’t play in tournaments against men, because they didn’t have the skill that men did, even though the majority of women had the same skill, or were more skilled, they just never had the opportunity to show it. YN swore that if she did manage to play chess, she wouldn’t allow the watchful eyes of judging men to put her off.

So far, she wasn’t doing a good job of doing that.

When she walked over to board twenty, she was shocked to find a women sat at the opposite side of the table from where she was about to about to sit.

“Hello.” The girl says, standing up and holding her hand out for YN to shake, which she does, “I’m Sarah Jones.”

“YN YLN.” She replies, sitting down across from her, “Um, do you have a clock? I don’t have one and I was told to ask.”

“Oh!” The girl immediately picks up her bag that was rested upon the floor and lifted a large wooden rectangular block out of it, one with two clock faces on it and two small buttons on the top, “I do.”

As awkward as YN felt, she knew that if she was to understand the concept of clocks, then she would have to open her mouth and ask, “Can you explain to me how they work?”

“Sure!” Sarah smiles as though she can’t contain her excitement to explain what YN didn’t understand, “The clock nearest to you is yours. We both have ninety minutes each to play the game, if you’re still playing by the time the little red flag comes down then you’ve lost. Once you move, you click the little button on the top of your clock and that starts your opponents time.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t worry about it.” Sarah smiles back, and suddenly YN feels at ease in the girls presence, “I wish I had somebody to tell me these things when I first started. I did learn, slowly, but it would’ve been nice to have a little more help when I first started.”

“I’ve been playing for years.” YN’s quick to say, just to make sure that the girl knows that she isn’t a complete imbecile when it comes to the game, “This is just my first tournament.”

“How exciting!” She gushes, “This is my third. I’m waiting for my rating to come through. They aren’t as quick with women’s ratings as they are with mens.”

“Why am I not surprised?” YN says, a hint of humour within her voice. Sarah chuckles and YN can’t help the little smile that falls over her cheeks, “I’ve been here less than an hour and they’ve already tried to make me feel smaller than I am because I’m a woman.”

“Get used to that.” Sarah offers her a small smile, “Your turn first.” YN’s about to pick up a piece when Sarah moves to say something else, “Another thing I’ve forgotten to mention! Games in tournaments are touch move.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you touch a piece, you have to move it.” YN nods her head and looks back down at the board, taking in the board briefly before she made her decision.

“Do you press your button to start my time?” YN asks.

“Yes.” Sarah smiles sheepishly, reaching forward to press the small button, “Sorry about that.”

Without hesitation, YN reached out and firmly moved her queen bishop’s pawn to its fourth square. The Sicilian Defence was the first chess opening she had ever read about, in one of the more advanced chess books her grandfather had given her, and it consequently became her favourite. It was the one that she found worked more effectively than any of the other openings she had learnt about, and was certainly the one that she used more often than others.

Without really thinking, once she’d placed her piece down, she pressed the small button that stopped her time and started Sarah’s and placed her elbows upon the table, resting her hands upon her hands just as she had seen lime-green trousers do earlier. She was unsure whether people would notice, but it added a sense of confidence to the girl once she’d done it. When she played with her grandfather, she only ever let her hands rest upon her lap once she’d made her move, and after a few seconds of resting the way that she did, she starting to like this way of resting in between her moves.

She allowed Sarah to make her moves, which she reciprocated with hers and it wasn’t until she was around her seventh move that she began to attack with them. Sometimes she waits longer to make her attacking moves, and other times she makes them earlier. It all depended on how she was feeling and how she suspected the game to go with each of the different moves. On the eleventh move of the game, she captured one of Sarah’s bishops, and then a few moves after on her nineteenth — her queen.

She looked up slightly at Sarah, and saw the way she furrowed her eyebrows slightly at the board before dropping all of the worry that glazed over her features. What surprised YN even more was when she reached forward and knocked her king over, even though it shouldn’t have. There wasn’t anywhere else she could have.

“Wow.” Sarah says, almost sounding flabbergasted about what she had just witnessed, “That was, well, quick.”

“I’m sorry.” YN’s quick to say but Sarah shakes her head.

“Don’t be.” She smiles, “I think you’re one of the best players I’ve ever played. Make sure to take your card back, and circle that you’ve won!”

With that, Sarah was up and walking away from the table. YN picked up the small pencil that she had been given earlier and wrote the game down with Sarah and herself, recording that she had won. She made her way back towards the desk where she had signed up, ignoring the shocked faces of the two men that sat behind the desk once she’d placed her card in the winner’s basket. It was the first card back she noticed, in both the winners and the losers side. It was at this point she noticed the man in the lime-green trousers stood against the side wall looking directly at her. She wasn’t too sure, but it didn’t look as if he was watching her every move. She tried her hardest to not make it too obvious that he had seen her staring and made her way around the room, looking at all of the different games that had started to be played.

She made her way past board number five, the one lime-green trousers had been stood near, only to see it being the man that he had played a game of speed chess with earlier. It was absolutely certain to YN now that they did know each other, it would be a little odd if they didn’t, maybe even a little bit stalker-ish. What else she was quite surprised at was seeing Sarah stood watching over the same board. YN offered her a smile and went to stand next to her.

Looking over the board slightly, YN noticed straight away that the man who was playing Black, not the man who was playing speed chess but his opponent, had a chance to win a rook after moving his bishop, but he instead exchanged his pawns. In her mind, she knew that he had just placed himself in a position that a good player would know how to immediately win him over.

“One of them has a rating of 1450, and the other has a rating of 1689.” Sarah whispers to her, “They’re two of the headliners to win.”

“Well one of them just made a mistake.” YN immediately whispers back.

“Who?” Sarah’s eyebrows furrow as she says the words, a little two loudly because all of the eyes around them flutter in their direction.

“Black.” YN whispers discretely back, “He should’ve moved his bishop, winning white’s rook but instead he exchanged pawns, leaving him wide open.”

“My god.” She says, dropping her mouth open in shock as she looked at the girl, “You’re insane. How did you notice that.”

She shrugs, “I just observe games well, I suppose.”

“You’re telling me.”

The two of them look back at the game in front of them, and just as she had suspected, the man playing white managed to take black’s rook, and then the queen that was conveniently left wide open, leaving his opponent no other option but to topple his king over. The shake hands and the winner immediately turns around, smiling as lime-green trousers claps him on the back and wraps his arms around his shoulders. They make their way over to the desk, presumably dropping their cards into the baskets.

“What is their deal?” YN asks Sarah, feeling comfortable enough with the girl to do so.

“Harry and Mitch?” She nods at Sarah’s words, “They’re best friends, met a few years ago when they drew at a tournament. Harry’s already an expert after winning a game a couple of towns over but Mitch is yet to do so. Harry’s just here to offer moral support to his friend.”

“I’m sure making him loose at speed chess beforehand is great moral support.” YN’s mutters.

She laughs, “You’d be surprised. They’re forever psyching each other out with games of skittles. They drive me absolutely insane with it.”

“You know them?” YN is quite baffled at his revelation.

Sarah nods, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, “Mitch is my boyfriend. The person who taught me chess, actually.”

YN’s lips part slightly but she immediately shuts them, “Wow.”

“I know.” She laughs, scratching her forehead sightly, “They’re pretentious twats when it comes to their chess but when you get to know them, they’re alright.”

YN casts her eyes to them for a second, watching as they look at the board, obviously trying to pinpoint their competition, “I’ll take your word for it.”

YN next game started twenty minutes later, once everyone else had finished their games, returned their complete cards and paired everyone up for their next games, she made her back over to the board to see who her next opponent was. She was at board ten, which she was pleasantly shocked about, seeing as though the last board she played at was board twenty

‘Scott - 332 - White’ which sat next to, ‘YLN - Unr - Black’

She was playing black, which meant that she had to work a little bit harder to make sure that she would start just as strong as she would if she were playing white. She weaved her way through the abundance of people either lingering or making their way to their boards ever so slowly because they don’t want to be seen going to their looser game. She smiles at that thought, they should embrace it, their opponent may just have been better, and they’d have to work from that. Once she made it to table ten, she was surprised to see a man who looked around his mid-thirties, maybe earlier-forties sat waiting for her with a grimace upon his face. Chess players aren’t the nicest of people ever, so YN really isn’t surprised when he doesn’t even respond to her hello, instead just looks down at the board. She doesn’t even hesitate when she leans forward and presses the little button above the clock by the side of them, starting his time.

He made his opening move, which she followed by moving pawn to queen’s four and pressed his time again. He moved again straight after her movement, instantly with pawn to his queen’s four as well. She quickly noticed that he never looked at her, and instead kept his eyes darting around the room whenever he wasn’t studying the board. She just sat with her elbows placed neatly each side of the board and rested her chin on her hands, staring at both him and the board in intervals.

He played fast, but she could play even faster and she was beginning to see a little impatience in the man, as though he wanting to play even faster and have the game to be over faster. It had taken them roughly five or six minutes to both develop their pieces, ready to start attacking the other. He started attacking her queen first, which she wasn’t too surprised about because if the shoe was on the other foot she probably would have done the same thing — in a more skilful way, if she may add.

Ignoring his attack, she starts to advance her knight. He responded by pushing a pawn up, and she was surprised that him doing so meant that she couldn’t take it without being on the responding end of a nasty double attack. She raised her eyebrow, knowing that she could so without him noticing that she was doing so, because his eyes were still fluttering around the room.

He was obviously a very skilled player, and he had to be with the impressive rating of 332. He was better than her grandfather, which pained her to say, but her grandfather always used to say that he was only ever playing the game for fun, and never professionally. As a small child, hearing the word ‘professional’ tricked her mind into thinking that she may actually be able to get a career out of this, but from this experience right now she wondered whether that would be the case or not.

He surprised her with his next move, picking up his queen bishop and taking one of the pawns next to her king with it, checking her as he did so and sacrificing the piece. To say it threw her off guard for a second would be an understatement, and she did have to go through every option she could before she made her decision.

She moved her king over in that direction, but didn’t take the bishop.

He brought his knight down, and she traded the pawns on the other side, meaning she opened the file for her rook. He kept chipping away at her king with complicated moves, but none that she could see had any real danger to her. She brought her rook out, and doubled it with her queen. It was an arrangement that she didn’t quite mind, and she felt ready to fire at any second with whatever she had left in her.

It only took her three moves to fire and he seemed too entranced by his complicated moves to truly pick up on what she was doing. He was only focusing on chipping away at her king, not paying any attention to the full board, meaning he was missing out on the moves she was making. If he hadn’t been so focused on trying to checkmate her, he would have had her by the fourth move he made, after the first check with the bishop. She had him with her third move, and she saw an opportunity to fire her rook. She moved her queen to the last rank, and captured the white rook, one that still start there unmoved. He was a very messy player, even if a skilled one.

She looked up at him, and for the first time this entire game he looked up at her. It was almost as though he knew he was over, but he was determined as he reached out and took her queen with his rook.

Looking down, she almost didn’t want to look at him as she tried to hide her smile. She leaned her hand forward, picked her bishop up and moved it one square and muttered the single word of, “Check.”

YN was surprised when he leant forward, picking up his king before he hesitated. He had finally noticed what what she had done. If he made the move that he had wanted, he was going to loose his queen and the rook that he had just captured. He looked at her and without hesitating said, “Draw?”

“No.” She hook her head.

“Okay.” He held out his hand, “I resign.”

She has to bite her lip to hold in her smile, one that was only there because she had taken her time and actually thought about what she was doing.

“You play a good game, kid.” He says, and with that he leaves the table. She can’t even contain her excitement when she writes the game down on her card, circling her name to say that she had won. Placing it in the basket, and seeing the two men looking at her again with shocked expressions on their faces, she couldn’t contain her smile.

To say she had just beaten the first person she had played who actually had a rating that she had to watch out for, she was happy to say the least. The idea of her possibly winning this whole tournament starting itching closer and closer, and to say that she was happy was an understatement. She goes to stand by the back wall, watching over as people around her still played their games, using their own tactics to hopefully win. She didn’t really have a lot of tactics, she just had moves that worked for her and a strategy of whizzing through all of the best options in her head before she played them, making sure that she wasn’t leaving herself open like Sarah had done and then Scott afterwards.

The clearing of a throat and the feeling of a presence near her was the thing that snapped her out of her winner’s gloat and back into the real world of being in a room with snobby chess players. Lime-green trousers was now stood directly next to her, seeming to be the snobbiest of them all from first impressions, but she certainly isn’t one to pre-judge.

“It seems to me that you’re getting a little too big for your boots, aren’t you?”

She definitely should pre-judge, certainly more so when it comes to snobby chess players and especially ones that wear vans she has noticed.

“Big for my boots?” She raises her eyebrow at him slightly, “You mean winning?”

“For an unrated player, yes.” He responds, “You’re just on a streak of luck. I’ll be happy once I see you loose next game.”

This man. YN couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to say those things to her, more so that once she’d looked at him she was absolutely disgusted. He stood there, next to her with one hand tucked within the pocket of his trousers, smirking at her as though she should laugh with him at the words he had just said.

She cannot at all say that she cared very much about this man, in fact, the questions she had about him were only because she wanted to know why he felt like he ran the place. To have him, someone who she had never met before, say so openly that he was waiting for her to fail sparked something within her, anger to be honest. To anybody else they might have allowed it to get into their head, but YN didn’t have the opportunity to do that — she needed to do well in this tournament and she wasn’t going to allow some snobbish expert to say something of that sort to her ruin it.

She cleared her throat, dropping her eyes down to floor, “If I recall correctly, you aren’t even playing in this tournament Mr. Styles.”

“Mr. Styles?” He chuckles, raising his eyebrows at her once she’d said it, “You’ve heard of me?”

“Not before today, no.” She shakes her head, allowing a little smile to grace over her lips as his falters slightly, “In fact, I had no idea who you were. I had to ask somebody.”

“And yet you know that I’m not playing.” He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and shrugs his shoulders.

“And yet again, I asked someone.” She tilts her head, “I only asked your name, they felt the need to give me all the information they knew about you.”

“Which was?”

“You think you’re semi-decent at chess and feel the need to make sure everyone knows.”

It was a low blow, and she certainly knew that but she can’t lie and say that it didn’t feel good to see his face falter at her words. Whether it be snobbish boys at school, or snobbish chess players like this Harry Styles himself, she knew it was always the most fun to hit them right where it hurts. For normal members of the male species specifically, they hated when people attacked their masculinity, as though it was fragile and if someone flicked it too harsh it may explode and they might be nice to others for one (Shock! Horror!). For chess players, they already had people keeping their masculinity in check by them playing a predominately male-played game, so, if she just hit that stabbed and twisted that specifically, reminding them that she was also a female at the same time, well it killed two birds with one stone.

So what if she was an unrated player? It just meant that she didn’t have the experience of other. She presumes that people like him forget that at one point he too didn’t have a rating, and had to start off from the beginning. She wondered if someone had plagued him then, meaning that he felt the need to also do it to her. She knew that wouldn’t have been the case, and she was sure if she searched his name up, she’d find thousands of articles that labelled him as a ‘child-prodigy’, which she had also been called in her youth but not by anybody of real power.

That title was tossed around in chess a little too much for her liking.

“Semi-decent?” His voice is laced with venom and she can tell straight away, “I’m an expert, love, not some wannabe that doesn’t know the difference between skill and sheer luck.”

For a few seconds, she thought about whether or not she had done something horrid in her past life that meant she had to meet this man. Sheer luck was something that you’d get if you knew how to play chess, but thought you were better than you actually were. YN knew that she was good, the hours she spent studying over different senior master’s games to make sure she knew every trick in the book meant that she was good. Skill came in many different forms, but the main thing that all skilled people of this sport knew was that it took time. She’s sure Harry’s familiar with that himself, but he has too much of a precious ego to ever let anyone know such a thing.

Even if he did have a precious ego that he felt he needed to protect, there were other ways to do it then degrading herself.

YN turned to look at him, making sure that the message her eyes sent let him know that he wasn’t to make a peep, “I may be unrated, but if you forget, sunshine, at some point you were too.” She sighs, “To me, sheer luck between us is the idea that you’ve managed to finesse your way so far up this games arse that nobody has realised what an absolute monstrosity of a person you actually are.”

Lime-green trousers, as she was now going to call him forever, threw her a look that she knew would kill her if they were able too, “Monstrosity? Have you heard yourself, love?”

“At least I’m not trying to hide the fact that I’m actually horrid, which I’m certainly not, by using the excuse of being a fantastic chess player, as you like to boast that you are.”

“Have you seen any of my games?” He raises his eyebrows, “Seen how good I actually am?”

She laughs and shakes her head, seeing that he’s fallen directly into her trap, “I’ve never once said that you weren’t a good player, in fact, I would never say something like that.”

“But you’ve —”

“If you recall, Mr. Styles, I never said anything about your chess other than you think you’re semi-decent, which isn’t an insult at all.” She says, leaning back on your heel slightly, “I never insulted your chess, only your personality. You decide which one you cherish the most.”

“What if I take semi-decent as an insult?”

She shrugs, “Then you’re even shallower than I thought. Think back to what you said about my chess, which I quote was that I played with ‘sheer luck’ and that ‘you’ll be happy to see me loose my next game’.”

YN feels proud of herself that she’d managed to stick up for herself in front of the shell of a man, not allowing his shitty behaviour and rudeness to bring her down from her high. She had won her first two games in the tournament for christ’s sake, and it meant she was a hell of a lot closer to maybe winning this thing.

“Now if you’ll excuse me I have to get home.” She says, “Need to get some rest, have a full day tomorrow of winning on sheer luck. I have some praying to do, I suppose.”

With that, YN turns and walks away from him, leaving him in a stunned silence in the corner of the room at the words that she had said to him. She wasn’t going to let that man do what she supposes he has done to many other people to her. She didn’t deserve that.

As she left the village hall after the first day of the tournament she realised that if she was going to make it amongst these chess players, she was going to have to learn that she wasn’t some push over, and she deserved the respect that other players received.

She was going to prove to lime-green trousers that she was a good player, one with skill and show him that the ‘sheer luck’ nonsense he was going on about was something that he had just made up in her case.

To do this, the first thing YN had to do was search up this man, and learn the tricks of his trade. She was going to beat him at his own game, whether or not he was playing.

The next day YN walked into the village hall with a spring in her step. When she had returned home, she had immediately bolted upstairs and locked herself within her room, sat on her bed with her chessboard in front of her, running through all of her games to see if there were any weaknesses in her play. There weren’t, and that made her smile. Her grandfather had always said that she was a wonder, someone who was so young but knew more then him about the game that he had taught her how to play. YN truly couldn’t understand how she was better than her grandfather at chess, but she thinks it has something to do with the hours upon hours she spent as a child when she should’ve been doing schoolwork going over games and moves until she had them memorised.

The next thing she did was open her laptop up and search up, ‘Harry Styles’. She couldn’t stop herself from doing so, and just as she had thought, the man was some sort of child prodigy. Reading one of the articles on the Chess Weekly website, he had won his first tournament at aged eight, and ever since, he had just excelled. It said if he wins the next regional championships he will be on his way to being national master, and if he wins the next national championships he will be senior master. YN had no idea that there were so many different championships and tournaments to play in chess.

She had read through all of his games that were publish on the Chess Weekly website and she wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t find any fault in his game. She played them out on her board as she read them, and tried her very hardest to find errors where she would’ve done differently but she couldn’t. He had the title of expert for something, and the skill he had certainly was the thing that gave him that.

YN also found out that he had won another tournament close by to the one that she was playing, and he already had an invitation to the regional championships that were taking place in Manchester in three months so he didn’t have to play. It was at this point she learnt that if she was to win this tournament, she wouldn’t just win the prize money but also an invitation to play at regional’s with all of the other winners. It certainly gave her something to look forward to which she hadn’t had before.

That morning, she had dressed in an outfit that was smart, yet also casual. She had paired some high-waisted black trousers with a black turtle-neck and added a chunky-knit tan cardigan with large black pin-stripes on it. The belt she added hugged in her waist and made her feel as though she could do anything. She couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t doing this as an ode to lime-green trousers, wearing something similar to what he was wearing just to spite him that even though they were of different genders, they were both playing the same sport as people.

The village hall looked exactly the same as it did yesterday, and the people that were there were also the same as yesterday, YN noticed. She offered a closed-lipped smile to the men that were sat at the table, the same two as yesterday. They looked at her with a shocked look upon their features, as though they couldn’t believe that she was actually still playing. She made her way over to the notice board, skimming her eyes over to find that she was on board eight, and that she was actually the only unrated player still left in the tournament. A grin threatened to cross her features but she didn’t allow it. She had to look tough.

“YN YLN.” She said, holding her hand out to shake his hand.

“James Wortley.”

The board had told her that his rating was 1065, meaning that he would be the best player she had played all weekend, but that certainly didn’t mean that he would beat her. He wasn’t going to beat her, she wouldn’t allow it. YN was playing white, giving her the advantage that she was going to start the game. She played pawn to king four, hoping that he’d play the Sicilian, the one move she knew better than any other.

He didn’t.

Wortley copied and played pawn to king four, and then moved his king’s bishop so it was in the corner, above his castled king. She hadn’t seen anything like this before, and she wondered whether he had made it up. It seemed to be one of those moves that people make up to try and hurt their opponents brain.

It hadn’t worked then, but during the middle of the game it started to get a little more complex, and YN started to make decisions without actually thinking them through. Without thinking everything through, she made the decision to retreat her bishop, lifting it up slightly off the board. It was at this point she noticed that she had a better move of pawn to queen four. She dropped it back down to the board.

“Touch move.” Wortley interrupted. She looked up at him and wanted nothing more than to smack the smile that had crossed his lips off him “You have to move your bishop.”

She tried to not make her mistake obvious and moved her bishop to bishop four. It was the first time in any of her chess games that she had played previously. Even when she played with only her grandfather, her moves were all clean and precise and she hardly made any mistakes. When she was learning, she made mistakes, but one needs that to become good at whatever they are doing. After the first period or so of learning, when she could say that she wasn’t a beginner, the mistakes started to become less and less until she could proudly say that she made none.

Wortley had a grin on his face that she knew was because he had noticed her little tumble. He moved his queen’s pawn to the fifth square, tapping his clock button smugly and leaning back in his chair as if to psych her out. She wasn’t going to let him know that it was working.

If she didn’t think about this, he was going to capture one of her bishops, and she wasn’t about to let him do that and leave her in a vulnerable position. It took her ten minutes of studying the board over and over again until she found a move that meant that he wasn’t going to do that. He took her bishop, thinking he had actually done something, but then she advanced the queen rook pawn over on the opposite side of the board. She saw his face drop for a moment, but his next move was quick as he pushed the queen pawn forward again.

He wasn’t as good a player as she thought, because he fell delicately into her trap that she had laid out for him. She moved her knight, attacking his rook. Doing so, she knew that he would move the rook to the square that she had thought he would, and that allowed her to bring her queen out to bishop five, right above where he had left his castled king. She could feel the anger bubbling within his body as she lifted her queen, and took the pawn directly under the king, sacrificing her queen.

He took the queen, there was nothing else he could do.

She brought her bishop out for another check, and he halted her pawn, just as she reckoned he would, “You’ll be checkmate in two.”

Wortley had a sour look upon his face, lifting his eye to look at her calm ones, “What?”

“The rook will come over, mate.” She tilts her head as she watches him play out her words as he stares at the board, “Then the knight mates afterwards.”

“But my queen—”

“Will be pinned after I move my king.”

YN quite liked watching him crumble before her, spitting out a, “Fuck!” as he knew she was right. Just as the snobby chess player he was, he stood up without turning his king or shaking her hand and stormed away from the table, leaving her with a small smile upon her lips. She enjoyed writing her game down on the card and circling her name. As she stood up, she tucked her chair underneath the table, she was shocked to see lime-green trousers stood directly behind her, this time wearing blue flared jeans and an orange jumper. She was still going to call him lime-green trousers in her head.

He had his arms crossed and a stern look upon his face, one that she supposed came from just watching her game. She hoped he had enjoyed himself.

“Still sheer luck?” She asked, with a playful smile and the tilt of her head.

“You made a mistake.”

“But I got myself out of it.”

“You still made it.”

YN shook her head, knowing that nothing would be good enough for this man. He thrived on making players like her feel like shit because they made one mistake. Some people would crumble from the move that she made — but she didn’t, and she won.

“Are you genuinely telling me that you’ve never made a mistake playing before?”

If he said no, she certainly wouldn’t believe him. She hadn’t before today, but she hadn’t played in professional tournaments before today also.

“I’ve never made a mistake playing in an important game, no.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well you better believe it, rookie.”

“I think I’ve proven that I’m no rookie.” She purses her features for emphasis.

He chuckles, “You’ll prove that you’re no rookie if you win this whole thing. But I can’t say that I have belief that you will.”

With that he’s walking past her, brushing her shoulder with his so hard that it almost sends her off balance. He was one of the people that YN found hard to not get angry with all of the time. It was his taunting and his teasing and the fact that he has virtually no belief that she’s good enough to win this thing. If he had watched her game, which she was guessing he had, then he would certainly know that she was a skilled player. She would’ve liked to see him play that game as well as she did, making the mistake and all.

Her next game was an hour or so later, and when she checked the notice board she was on board four. She was playing someone called Reid, and they had a rating of 1602. She was shocked to know that this person was one of the two people with ratings over 1600 that she had been told about when she joined yesterday. She wasn’t going to let intimidate her.

She shook his hand and sat down across from him. She wasn’t going to lie, he looked like he had just walked out of a movie set, with blonde waves and a nice smile. She was surprised that once he sat down, he didn’t stop smiling at her. She returned it, only for it to drop once she saw who was sat behind him. Lime-green trousers, with a smirk on his face as his eyes never left her. This was the last game she had to play, she noticed. There was only one other board in use at board one. She hadn’t even realised that had been the case. He was trying to psych her out, and she noticed this because his friend was the other player sat on the other board.

It was a low blow, even for him. If lime-green trousers believed that she was a threat to his friend, then he should have more faith in his friend. It was one thing to stalk out your opponents and try to get into their heads, but Harry wasn’t even playing her. His friend, who is called Mitch if she remembers correctly, hadn’t even batted an eyelid in her direction, and if he didn’t care about her then she was unsure why his friend cared so much. It wasn’t even as though he was doing a good job of it either. Did he think that standing there with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed was going to distract her? It certainly wasn’t.

“Are you ready?” Stopping the rant in her head, she flutters her eyes down to movie-star and offers him a smile.

She wasn’t going to let him distract her after this point, “Ready.”

YN was playing black, meaning he had the advantage but it wasn’t going to be something that she worried herself over. Reid played pawn to king four and then pressed his clock. She could feel not only his eyes staring at her, but lime-green trousers as well. This was going to be a long game, and she could already feel that.

She played pawn to queen bishop four. By the time the middle of the game came around, after every move she made she was looking up at lime-green trousers, who still had his eyes on her. She wondered whether she did so to spite him that he was trying to get under her skin or she did so because she found herself being drawn to him. He was one of the only people that had ever been to do so to her whilst she was playing the game.

There were no weaknesses on either side of their play, and it was just a case of waiting and finding the best squares for her knights and bishops. It started to become like a routine, and she really was starting to get bored. Harry’s stern face had grown now into a smirk that she knew would be etched into her brain for hours to come, reminding her that he thinks she’s not going to win at all.

Reid brought a knight to queen five, and it caused a frown to cross YN’s face because she knew she wouldn’t be able to dis-lodge it. She didn’t look up at lime-green trousers after her next movement because she knew that his smirk would have grown to cover the entirety of his face. Reid had finally started to creep up on her, but the only thing that YN could actually think was that it was about time.

YN had her elbows on the table, her head rested upon her fists as she looked over the board with a keen eye. She decided it was time to fight back, pushing her pawn up so that it opened up her bishop, meaning that the bishop’s power had tripled. She hoped that lime-green trousers would have noticed that she had done this, and that the smirk he had upon his face had left.

Reid kept bringing his pieces up and he knew that there were limits to what he could do to her. YN focused on the left-hand corner of the board where his queen was. Strategically, she moved her bishop down in the middle of his clustered pieces and set it on his knight two square. If he decided to capture it, he would be in trouble. She looked up at him and she could tell that he was starting to get nervous, and his clock was certainly ticking.

Fifteen minutes later he made his move, taking the bishop with his rook. It was as though he couldn’t see that moving the rook of the back rank was a foolish move. He was supposed to be one of the top players of this competition and he hadn’t spotted this. She was shocked. Checking that it was right, she brought out her queen.

He didn’t notice it until after his next move, and that was when his game fell apart. Six moves later when she got her queen’s pawn passed to the sixth rank, he brought his rook under the pawn. She attacked it with her bishop. He studied the board for a few seconds and she tried her hardest to not allow a winning smile to cross her lips.

He lifted his hand up and set his king on the side, “I resign. You win.”

He held his hand out which she shook, and the applause was defining. She stands up and sees that lime-green trousers had already disappeared, walking towards his friend that had also finished his game. She did smile at that. She was one step closer to winning the tournament and proving that she was actually a good player, and she hoped that she would be able to rub it in his face.

“YN!” It’s Sarah who calls her name after she had moved away from the board. The girl walks over and wraps her arms around YN, who does stiffen for a few a seconds before relaxing in her touch, “That was amazing!”

YN tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, “Thank you.”

They moved away from the board and out into the open, “The way you tricked him was insane! I’ve never seen anything like that before. ”

YN wasn’t used to receiving compliments, and especially not about her chess. She hadn’t received compliments about her chess in a long time, and certainly not in situations like this one. Her grandfather always complimented the way she played, but he sort of had to because of their relations and all. Maybe this tournament would start more people complimenting her chess.

As they walked, Sarah slipped her arm through YN’s, “Are you sure you’re not rated?”

“I haven’t played in years.” YN shook her head, “There’s no way that I am.”

She had played with herself over the past years but nobody else, and that’s how she knew for certain that there would be no way that she had a rating.

“Years?” Sarah’s tone is shocked, “You haven’t played in years and you’re that good? I don’t play for a few days and I’ve completely forgotten everything.”

YN chuckles at her words lightly, “I played with myself.”

“Yourself?” She smiled, “You must have had some rivalries with yourself.”

“I played other people’s games.” She clarified, “I played through games that were in Chess Weekly and tried to find any faults in it.”

“Did you find any?” She asks.

“A few.” YN shrugs, “Mainly people missing things that are directly in front of them.”

“Like Reid?” Sarah questioned and YN nodded.

“They focus on something too much and miss what their opponents are doing.”

Sarah turned to the side slightly to look at her, “You’re right. I’ll have to check to see if I do that.”

“You did in our game.” YN teases.

“I know I did.” Sarah bumps her shoulder slightly, “And now I have the Queen of chess as a friend who can teach me the tricks of the trade.”

YN didn’t have many friends, so it was nice to hear that she had a friend coming from somebodies lips.

YN nodded her head at Sarah, “I can do that.”

“I’m counting on it.”

When YN returned the next day, it was to play the final game, the one that if she wins she would win the prize money of two hundred and fifty pounds — something that would help her and her grandmother out dearly. Yesterday, she had wiped out her opponent Harris in under forty moves, thirty-six to be exact. She arrived and saw a group of people already stood around board one, where she knew she would be playing the game. Boards two and three were ready to start again, playing to find who would be in the places third, fourth, fifth and sixth.

Mitch Rowland was the man she was playing, with a rating of 1689, and she knew that rating could be exactly how good he was or be hiding the truth, just like it had been with movie-star. When he sat down and she looked around the room, she could see Sarah sat there, cheering on her boyfriend obviously whilst he played his final game.

“YN YLN.” The words slip out of his lips easily, “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Mitch Rowland.”

She smiles and shakes the hand he holds out, “I can say the same about you.”

YN was playing white, and the second he had punched her clock, she moved pawn to king four and punched his clock. He immediately responded by moving his king pawn to the third square, punching her clock smugly. The French Defence. She had read about it in one of her books before, but she had never played it. She hesitated for a second on what was the best move to make, and after steady contemplation of all of the different outcomes, she played her pawn to queen four. She couldn’t help but wonder whether she had made a mistake or not.

Rowland hastily picked up his queen pawn and put it on queen four, and pressed the button of his clock. The opening had thrown her off, and she wondered whether Mitch had noticed that. He had to have. Deciding to bring out one of her knights, she decided to struggle in the centre squares. He was moving fast, and captured one of her pawns and she saw that she couldn’t do the same with it.

He had an advantage and she tried her very best to shrug it off. He was certainly the first player that she’d played that matched his rating, that was the truth.

Taking the pieces of the back rank, she castles and looks up at Mitch. He looked completely calm, as though he knew exactly what he was doing and wasn’t worried about the consequences of it. For the first time, she started to feel uncomfortable in her seat, and moves slightly within it. She found herself pushing her fingers into her chin as they rested in the new position she had found herself liking. She wondered if lime-green trousers was here, and if he knew that she had seen the way he rested within his game and tried to copy that, if he had, it would be another thing to be teased on.

Looking down at the board, there was a cluster of pieces and pawns on the board that seemed to have no real sense of why they were there. She knew her clock was ticking, and looking at it, she saw that she had used twenty-three minutes of it. Mitch had only used twenty minutes of his. He was leant back in his chair, clearing enjoying that she had no idea what she was she was going to do.

After a few more minutes of staring at the board, she found what she thought would be a good square for her knight, and she reached out her hand but then stopped. If she had done that, it wouldn’t have been good for her at all. She needed to do something about his queen before he had it on the rook file and ready to threaten. She needed to find someway to protect it, but no matter how much she stared at them, she couldn’t see a possible move.

Eventually she did find a sensible move and quickly made it, bringing a knight back near the king which protected it from Rowland’s queen. She could see that it had shocked him, because his features dropped for a second before he took a pawn on the other side of the board. That opened up his bishop, which was aimed at the knight that she had brought back, and now she was down by another pawn. He now had a small smile by his face, and she knew that if she didn’t do something quickly, it would be all over for her. The king would have been taken in four or five moves.

It took her a few minutes but she found her move and made it, punching her clock. Rowland studied the board for a minute before taking her knight with his bishop, like she had hoped that he would. She didn’t retake the move, and instead brought a bishop over to attack one of his rooks. He moved the rook out of the line of fire, like he had too. She brought her queen from the back to the centre and that now threatened to take the rook, pinning the king’s knight pawn so she could take the bishop with a check. It was now Mitch’s turn to study the board, and now his clock was ticking.

Fifteen minutes later he found the rook move that she had thought of earlier. It allowed her rook to come over her queen and from the deep breath he took, she knew she had got him. Ten more minutes later he moved his queen into a defensive position, but it certainly wouldn’t work. She reached out and advanced her pawn, attacking his queen. He stared at the pawn for a moment as though it was something that would hurt him if he touched it. If he moved his queen, YN would be able to attack him in an abundance of ways.

“Fucking hell.” He shock his head, trying to figure out what to do until he had ten minutes left on his clock. She had forty five, but she wasn’t one to brag.

There was only one move he could make, even though it would be the end of the game for him. She brought up a bishop behind her queen, threatening checkmate that he had to parry with his queen. She ignored it and pushed her rook to the third rank, where it could move either left or right. She would get either his queen or a checkmate, whatever he did.

“Fucking hell.” He repeated again, shaking his head and placing his hand upon his forehead.

“You can’t get out of it.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I can.” He says, “I will.”

She shrugged, “If you say so.”

With four minutes on the clock, he stared and stared at the board as though it was going to jump out and tell him what to do. Thirty seconds to go he picked up his queen and slammed it in front of the rook, offering to sacrifice it for the rook. He pressed the button, letting out a deep breath.

“I told you it doesn’t work.” She said, “There’s other options but the queen.”

“Make your move.” He said sourly.

“I can check you—”

“Just move.” He sounded as though she was giving up.

Nodding, she checked with the bishop and he retorted by moving his king away and pressing the button. Without a hesitation, she brought her queen down next to the king which sacrificed it. He could hardly believe that he had done it and snatched up her queen and stopped the clock. She pushed her bishop from the back rank to the middle and said, “Check. Mate next move.”

He looked at it, and shook his head, “Fucking hell.”

She wondered whether or not that was his favourite phrase.

“The rook will mate.” She responds to him, “I was trying to tell you that.”

“Fucking hell.” He shakes his head and holds his hand out for YN to shake, which she does, “They told me you were good.”

She couldn’t believe it.

People cheered around the room, clapping for her of all people. She was shocked to say the least. People who she didn’t even know congratulated her for her win, and it was something that she knew that she could get used to. She was given a cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds, and although it wasn’t a lot, it would certainly help her and her grandmother slightly.

YN couldn’t wait to get home and tell her grandmother the good news. The bus had been ten minutes late, and she spent the entire time with the cheque laying heavy in her pocket. She allowed her mind to wonder, but not too much. The thing that she thought of the most was how she hadn’t seen lime-green trousers there for the final. She would’ve thought that if anybody was there for the final, it would’ve been him, but he was no where to be seen. YN knew that it was probably really petty to want to rub it in his face that she had won, but she felt as though she deserved to do so with the shit he had said to her.

YN couldn’t contain her excitement as she finally burst her way into the house, immediately kicking her shoes off and placing her jacket over the banister.

“Grandma?” She called out, “Where are you?”

“In the kitchen!” She called back, which YN certainly wasn’t surprised at.

YN had realised from a young age that when her grandmother was nervous, she found herself always cooking or baking. They don’t have a lot of money but they always had things to make sweet treats with. Her grandmother was an excellent baker and she would choose her grandmothers sweets any day but her grandmother never had the confidence to believe that was the case.

When YN walks in the kitchen, she’s immediately met by all of the different aromas of what her grandmother had been cooking and baking throughout the day whilst she had been playing the tournament.

“It smells nice in here.” YN says, walking over to the counter and leaning down upon it, beaming up at her grandmother.

“It should do.” She responds, stirring the stew that was in the crock pot, probably having been in the majority of the day, “I’ve been slaving around all day in this kitchen.”

“For me?” YN smiles, placing a hand upon her chest, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I should.” She nods, taking two plates out of the cupboard so she could serve up, “We had to have something that was as celebratory as it was a pick me up.”

YN smiled, unable to hide her love for her grandmother. Her grandmother had always been a loving person and a person that always thought about other people rather than herself. YN had always aspired to be like her grandmother, and she hoped that she would be, even though it could be hard at times to do so.

“Anyways.” She wipes her hand upon a teacloth that she did have over her shoulder, “How did it go?”

“How did what go?” YN teases, walking over to sit down at the dining table that she had set out.

The next thing YN feels is the teacloth that her grandmother did have over her shoulder, hitting her on the head.

“What was that for?” She exclaimed.

“You know exactly what that was for!” YN chuckles at her grandmothers response, “Now tell me. What happened?”

“Oh, you know. I played some chess.”

Her grandmother rolls her eyes, “I gathered that.”

“And. . .” YN takes the cheque out of her pocket and holds it up for her grandmother, “I won this.”

“YN!” She exclaims, clapping her hand to her mouth, immediately walking over to where her granddaughter was stood to lift the cheque out of her hand, “You won! I can’t believe it!”

“Well then.” YN chuckles, “It’s nice to know you had faith in me grandma.”

“Oh shut it with you.” She places the cheque back down, “I’m the first person to admit that you’re crazy good at chess, but, you haven’t played another person in how many years?”

“Uh.” YN thinks for a second, “Four, maybe five.”

“That’s a long time, YN.”

It was a long time, she was right. Apart from playing her grandfather, YN had only ever played people who were on her grandfather’s chess team. They were all older than her, and more experienced, but she always managed to win. Her grandfather always said that she was a wonder. Chess wasn’t popular within her age group, and she wasn’t one to really put herself out there so she spent her days locked up within her room playing through other peoples games rather than her own. It probably wasn’t the best way to learn chess but it certainly had some benefits.

“I know.” She nods, “It was odd. They all had ratings to be impressed of but made silly mistakes. They concentrated on other things rather than what I was doing.”

“Maybe you were just too good of a player for them to handle.”

YN chuckled, “I highly doubt that.”

“No. That’s what I believe.”

YN, for one, had a good memory. To be able to learn to play chess the way that she did, playing through games over and over again until she had them memorised hinted at that. YN wasn’t really a fan of school, and even though she passed with okay grades she knew that after that she was finished with learning. Instead, she started to work in her grandfather’s bookshop, and it meant that she could read all the chess books she wanted whilst she was on the job, even though she probably wasn’t supposed to.

“They just made silly mistakes.”

“I’m sure.”

“I even made some.”

“We’re all human.” Her grandma says, “That still doesn’t take away from the fact that you have real skill, YN. Skill that could take you places.”

Not knowing how to handle the compliment she had just been given, YN looks down at the table, running her finger along the edge of it.

“I could do.” She says, shrugging her shoulders slightly, “Take it somewhere.”

“How do you mean?”

“All the winners of the tournaments get invited to play in the Regional Championships.”

“That’s amazing!”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth and nods, “It’s in three months. In Manchester. The prize money is double, maybe triple what the tournaments was. I don’t know yet.”

“Wow.” Her grandmother shakes her head, “He always knew that you’d go somewhere with chess. Always told me that you would.”

He hadn’t even told YN that he thought she would be able to play chess professionally, only ever briefly mentioning that people can play it professionally if they want, but knowing that he had told her grandmother about it was something that caused butterflies to flutter within her stomach as well as a heart-wrenching twist.

A part of her wished he was still around to tell her that to her face.

“I’d have to really practice to win.”

“I’m sure you’ll do it.”

YN had already orchestrated a plan of what she was going to do to prepare for the championships. She was sure that she could find a list of all of the winners of the different tournaments, probably on Chess Weekly the more she thought of it, and she would learn each and everyone of their more important games. It mean that whoever she played, she would’ve been able to familiarise herself with their strategies and make sure she knew what they preferred to play out of everything. It would be tough, but it wasn’t like she had anything else to do.

“You know, YN.” She says, reaching out and placing her hand on YN’s, “He’d be so very proud of everything you’ve achieved. Even if it had been a little delayed.”

YN chuckles at her grandmothers words. It had actually taken her a while to psych herself up to play the tournament because she knew that it would be hard to do so without her grandfather, but at the same time she knew that she had to do it for him because he wasn’t here.

“I know.” She grips her grandmother’s hand just as tightly back, “I’m doing it all for him.”

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @havethetimeofyourstyles @stylesfics-xx @ill-be-your-honey-bri @millennial-teenybopper @burberryharold @heartbreakweatherharry @ucancallmechlo @hipslikejagger @kylos-empress @itsbuckysworld @afire-hes @lolapuffs @cutemint @the-tumbl-r-of-my-youth @njpic @caprisunstyles

#ahhh chessrry is here and i hope you like it #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 writing #harry styles series #series

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

Note

I'm loving your little mix works so much I wanted to request something if you're not too busy idk if you've seen the interview where perrie says that alex went to rehearsals with her because she couldn't get choreographies right and he would help her well what if tom did the same for reader??? and Jesy is soft for them but she won't admit it

Hi lovey! Thank you so much for the request! I added a little twist to it, but it’s still the same concept you wanted. AND YES, JESY LOVES THEM TOGETHER SHE JUST DOESN’T WANT TO ADMIT IT. I hope you like it, happy reading!💜✨

💌.

Patience

I hope you enjoy this! I honestly had so much fun rewatching Break Up Song over and over again to get the little dance they do in the chorus, it’s stuck in my head lol. That’s basically the dance the reader is trying to do, if you want to see the dance it’s somewhere towards the end of the Break Up Song video!

You watched the video your choreographer sent to you and the girls. You watched it over and over again, taking a moment to study the moves before getting up from the bed and doing them yourself. The video was a little dance Kayleigh, your choreographer, created for the Break Up Song music video. Since the pandemic was still in full affect and everyone was still on lockdown, shooting a music video at a studio was an absolute no go. As much as it sadden you and the girls that you couldn’t film your original vision for the video, your health and the crew’s health meant the most to all of you at the moment. Instead of not filming a music video at all, you and the girls have decided that it would be fun to shoot the video on your own at your own homes.

Which brings you to today. You were in your room, that you shared with Tom, trying to learn the choreography. Honestly, it wasn’t that hard of a dance, it was quite simple. The video Kayleigh sent you all was probably less than a minute. The dance was supposed to be done during the chorus, the rest of the song would be freestyle or clips of you all doing some nonsense for fun.

Your brows furrowed together, eyes glaring at your phone screen while you tried to figure out how to sway your arms and circle them to make them cross. Like Perrie, it took you a while to learn choreography. Unlike the other three, you and Perrie took extra time studying the dancers and had extra sessions at the studio to get the choreography down. Though it was sometimes frustrating, the end result was always worth it.

You cursed to yourself as the video ended for the twentieth time. You tried repeating the steps, watching yourself in the mirror, but it just wasn’t coming out right. You felt your body growing hot as you became upset at yourself for not understanding a few simple steps. You thought learning through a video would be easier, but no, it’s more difficult for you. There was no guidance from Kayleigh, she wasn’t there to tell you what you were doing wrong or what you were doing right. You just felt lost and confused.

Groaning, you snatch your phone from the table and throw yourself onto your bed. You take Tom’s pillow, hugging it as you lay on your stomach. You shove your face into his pillow, the smell of him with a mix of his shampoo bringing you some kind of solace from your frustration.

(Y/n)🌺: Girls, do we really need to have a dance in the video?

Perrie🦋: Yeah I agree. Do we REALLY need one?

Jesy💖: Don’t tell me you guys can’t get that?

Do you not get it?

Leigh-Anne😻: Huns, it’s like learning a TikTok dance

Jade💜: It’s so easy! Girls, it’s like 30 secs of the video. We always have a dance choreo in our videos!

(Y/n)🌺: But we’re bad at dancing🥺

Perrie🦋: You all know how hard it is for me and (y/n) to pick up choreography:(

Jesy💖: (y/n), isn’t Tom a dancer?

(Y/n)🌺: He used to do ballet and he was in Billy Elliot, he won’t shut up about it.

Why?

Jesy💖: Ask twinkle toes to help you, he might be able to teach you.

If he can teach you how to spoil things, he can teach you how to dance👌🏽

Jade💜: ^^^ she’s got a point

Leigh-Anne😻: Omg Tom did ballet?

Jesy💖: Lmao what a loser

(Y/n)🌺: That’s actually a good idea, I’ll go bother him rn:))

Perrie🦋: Right I’m glad (y/n) has a way to learn the dance but what about me? I live with a football player🙁

Turning your phone off, you hop out of bed and skip your way out of the bedroom. You walk around the house looking for Tom, but instead bump into Harrison and Tuwaine.

“Boys, where’s Thomas?” You ask them, stealing one of the chips Harrison was eating. With a playful glare, he softly smacks your hand. You cheekily grin at him as you eat the chip.

“He’s outside with Harry, they’re cleaning the patio.” Tuwaine answers. Harrison snorts, “And doing a shit job at it.” You quickly thank them and pull on the glass sliding doors to get to the backyard. You see Harry with one of those power hoses spraying dirt off the concrete as Tom stood to the side filming him. You wait for him to end his video before coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his torso.

“I thought you were supposed to be cleaning with Harry?” You ask him, earning Harry’s attention.

“You know what (y/n), that’s exactly what I said!” Harry answered sarcasticly, spraying the hose dangerously close to Tom’s feet. Your boyfriend yelps, turning around to scoop you in his arms and move you both away from Harry and the hose.

“You dick!” He hissed at his brother. Harry chuckles satisfied at riling up his brother. He turns around and returns to his task at hand.

Tom puts you down on your feet though his hands remain at your hips. You look up at him, admiring the way his eyes and hair give off a sweet honey color in the sun.

“What’s up bub? Have you got the dance down yet?” He asks, thumbs rubbing circles onto your hips. Your face contorts together, nose scrunched up in irritation at the mention of the dance. Tom notices your change in expression and pouts at you.

“I’m gonna take that as a no?” You sigh, leaning into his chest and rest your head on his shoulder. Picking up on your exasperation, he pulls you in closer and places his palm on your back rubbing soothing circles onto it.

“I don’t know why I can’t just get it. It’s so bloody simple and I just can’t do it. Why am I like this?” You ramble, beating your head against his shoulder with every word. Tom makes a sound of disagreement as he gently pulls you away from his shoulder.

Before he can speak he presses multiple kisses onto your forehead making you giggle, “There’s nothing wrong with you, darling. It just takes you a little bit longer to properly learn choreography, there’s nothing wrong with that! You’re an excellent dancer in my eyes.”

You fondly roll your eyes at him, always one for the sweet talk, “You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“No, I’ve seen you dance before (y/n), you’re actually good.” His eyes quickly rake over your body, “But as your boyfriend, I think you look extremely hot when you dance. Especially in those little costumes you wear during tour.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, placing a light kiss on his lips. “Hmmm, ok. Well, then as my boyfriend, will you help me learn the dance?” You try to soften him up with some puppy eyes and a smile that made the corner of your lips squish up to your cheeks.

Without any hesitation, he agrees, not thinking of how difficult it would be to actually teach you the dance.

~⏰~

Hours pass and Tom was slowly losing his shit. He loves you, absolutely adores you, like nothing in the world will ever make him stop loving you. But trying to teach you simple choreography was making him loose his mind.

Tom stares blankly at the floor, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. You stood a few feet away from him, cringing to yourself as you watched your boyfriend regain his patience with you.

“I love you.” You squeaked out sinking into your shoulders. Tom sighs and takes his head out his hands to look at you tiredly. He drags himself off the bed and stands in front of you. He cups your face in his hand, squishing it gently and playfully growls at you.

“Darling, I love you too.” He affirms with a fond smile. He lets out a breath before resting his forehead onto yours, “I just—why can’t you get it? I don’t understand.”

You pout at him and huff, “It’s not that easy, it’s really hard!” You and him had been practicing for a while now. For the first few minutes, Tom watched the video a number of times until he finally got the steps memorized. Then he took an hour of breaking down each step for you while you stood beside him repeating his moves. When he asked you to do it all together, all the steps you’ve rehearsed went out the window. Which lead to Tom breaking down the steps for you once again and so on.

“Baby, I did everything I can. I’ve done it really slow and explained each step to you.” He reasoned. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“But it’s hard Tommy!” You defended yourself, almost on the verge of crying because you still couldn’t comprehend the steps. Though you were probably overreacting, your whole day had been full of frustration; you were tired and mad at yourself for not understanding something so simple and now it was all coming together to make you explode.

“(Y/n), it’s like only ten to nine steps, you could do it.” Tom tried to encourage you. You groaned and pull yourself away from him. You plop yourself down to the bed, face smushed right into the pillows.

“I’m hopeless.” You said into the pillow, though it might have came out muffled for Tom. Tom frowned at your figure on the bed. He was upset at two things. One, he hated seeing you so frustrated with yourself. He just wanted to wrap you up in hugs and tell you that he was proud of you for trying your best. Two, he was mad at himself for kind of loosing his temper with you. You asked him for help and he did do that but he could have been a bit more patient. He knew you weren’t that good with rehearsing choreography so he should have expected the process to take a little bit slower.

“(Y/n), it’s swing, swing, round, swing, what’s so hard to understand?” Tom swung his arms like how Kayleigh did in the video, though his motions were quite harsh and sharp.

“I don’t know! I can’t swing my arms properly.” You complained, repeating his steps, your arms moving loosely.

“It’s just swinging your arms! There’s nothing hard about swinging your arms!” He exploded, throwing his arms in the air. An almost crazed look was in his eyes as he gripped onto the roots of his hair. Squeezing his eyes shut he took a breath in, “I need a break.”

Guilt filled him as he heard a sniff come from the pillow. Tom was immediately by your side trying to get you to look at him. “Darling, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

He sees you move your face so he can hear you properly, “No, it’s okay, you were just expressing how you feel. It’s my fault I can’t comprehend simple choreograph.”

Tom sighs, shifting so he’s laying against you, head resting on the same pillow as yours while he waits for you to look at him again. One hand supports his head and the other rubs circles onto your back. He feels you relax under his touch making him pull you closer because he felt like you needed the comfort. You were trying your best, he knew you were. In fact, he even saw you getting some of the steps correct, you just instantly doubted yourself.

“No, I should’ve remembered that it takes a few times for you to memorize choreography. I should’ve been more patient.” He began. “And you came to me for help and I did nothing but make you even more upset, I’m sorry.” He apologized. Your head rises from the pillow, Tom softly chuckles at the strands of hair that covered your face.

“Don’t say that, you did a great job at helping me, I’m just—stupid.” You shrug nonchalantly. Tom rolls his eyes, brushing the strands of hair that covered your face behind your ear. “Now that’s stupid, you’re one of the smartest girls I know.”

You snort shoving his hand away from you, “You said I was an excellent dancer and look at where that got us.”

“You are an excellent dancer, love. You just doubt yourself.” He gets up from the bed and holds his hand out for you. “Let’s try again?”

You glance at him then at his hand before finally giving in. You grasp his hand, using it as leverage to help yourself off the bed. Tom smiles proudly at you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “That’s my girl.”

~⏰~

Since standing beside each other was not doing the trick, Tom decided that he would try standing behind you. With your back against his chest, he outstretched his hands to hold onto your arms and guide them.

“Right, so we’re swinging this way, that way, then we go around and swing again.” Tom explained as he puppets your arms in those directions. You stare at yourself in the mirror and repeat Tom’s words to yourself. Tom glances at you from your shoulder, where his chin rested, seeing the gears shifting in your brain.

“Ok, we swing twice, then go around once, and swing again.”

Tom hums at you in response, “Yeah, you’ve got that part down.” He takes your left arm and brings it to your right shoulder, then your right arm to your left shoulder.

“After the swing we go chest, chest, so that it makes an x.” Tom continues to explain. You nod along, making mental notes to yourself. Suddenly, you jump, taking Tom by surprise.

“What happened?”

“I know the next move!” You beamed, shaking your arms from his grip and forming a heart with them. “After the X, we make a heart, and then it’s that shimmy thing.”

The grin on Tom’s face made the corners of his eyes crinkle and made his pearly whites twinkle at you, “Yeah, that’s right! Can you show me the stuff we’ve rehearsed so far?”

You purse your lips at yourself in the mirror, going over the mental notes you took in your head. The opening steps involved a little skipping in place while you punched the air three times; two punches on the left and one on the right. Then that would lead into the swinging, then the chests that make an X, the heart and shimmy.

“You remember darling, don’t doubt yourself.” He motivates you.

You jump around your spot and shake your limbs out, “Alright, I think I’m good.”

“Go for it, love.” Tom nods at you as he stands to the side with his hands on his hips, almost like a dance instructor or some teacher.

“I’m gonna sing the lyrics out, it helps.” You comment. Tom waves you off, “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“So it’s—so tonight I’ll sing another,” You skip and do the punches.

“Another break up song,” You transition into the arm’s choreography, swinging them and going around once. You jump so your legs are together and do the X with your arms over you chest. You make the heart and do the shimmies, squealing excitedly when you finally get all the steps done correctly.

“I DID IT!” You happily yell jumping into Tom’s arms. He catches you right on time with just as much cheerfulness as you.

“I KNOW, I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” He cheers making you both jump in celebration. You hug him tightly, continuously thanking him. Without Tom, you probably would’ve never learned the dance properly and would have given up the moment you felt like it. But thankfully, you had a loving boyfriend who never gave up on you. No matter how much you drove him mad.

“Seriously Tom, thank you for helping me. You didn’t have to, but I really appreciate it.” You tell him once he places you back on the ground.

“It’s no trouble, especially for you, I’d do anything for you.” He grins pecking your lips. You hum against his soft lips pulling him back in to meet yours again.

“Let’s just hope I can still remember this till tomorrow.”

Tom chuckles against your lips, “Darling we aren’t even done yet, that was just the first bit.” You pull away from him, mouth agape, “Wait there’s more?”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagines #tom holland one shot #tom holland headcanon #tom holland fanfiction #little mix #ally’s request #jade thirlwall #perrie edwards #leigh anne pinnock #jesy nelson

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kuroos-moon · 4 years ago

Text

atsumu = forest green + snowy white

☆ “secretly reciprocated feelings over constant denial” + “the purest love confession under the first snowfall”

☆ 3.2k event masterlist

“You should just make out with him; just saying.”

“Atsumu? I’d never,” your words were confident, laced with false honesty as you brush off Suna’s truth bombs. The thought of his soft blonde hair, his arrogant eyes—not as arrogant as the smirk on his lips though—faintly flashed through your mind. His lips, you shudder. You really would never. Not him.

“So, if he dated someone else you really will not mind?” He raises a brow, propping his hand against the corridor of your classroom to block you from entering. You sigh, “he’s an annoying prick, alright? And we’re not in some kind of friends in denial to lovers trope.”

He nods, his eyes almost saying ‘you don’t know a thing.’ You duck through his arm against the doorway, your eyes immediately landing on the blonde-haired bane of your existence which wasn’t where it belonged, earning a sneer from you this early in the morning.

“Ohayo,” his lips raised as he caught sight of your entrance.

“Get out of my seat,” you blink, waiting.

“But it’s really cold near the window, I think it might snow soon,” he mumbles as if that was any of your business. The thought of him being too busy shivering from the cold to disturb you during class was entrancing, a smile creepily making its way across your lips.

“What?” He asks incredulously, almost afraid of you.

“Nothing, I think I’ll welcome winter with open arms this year,” you grin. “Now get off my chair.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Shall I sit on your lap then?”

“Oh please, do so. ‘Yer ass could warm my thighs,” he flashes you his infuriating, one-of-a-kind smirk, the particular one that made you want to wipe it off with a hard punch—or a kiss—not that you’d admit it.

“Oh my gooddddd, just say ‘ya love each other and shut up!” Osamu, who rarely paid attention to your banters, was quite sensitive today, you notice.

At the mention of love, both you and Atsumu wanted to gag.

“Don’t even joke about it, it sends chills down my spine,” Atsumu looks at his brother horridly.

You scoff, “are you sure you’re not mistaking them for butterflies in your stomach?”

“Do you wish for me to get butterflies over ‘ya?” He looks up at you, eyes twinkling as his lips stretched into a genuine smile.

“As if. You’re annoying enough as it is, it’d be hell if you actually liked me,” you roll your eyes, oblivious to the subtle flash of hurt in his features, the hurt which Atsumu himself, refused to feel.

Suna, however, saw the exchange and mildly pitied Atsumu, realizing that it was time to give his friends the push they needed.

“Tsumu, how’s that girl you were talking to?”

Suna got the reactions he desired. One, was a grinning Atsumu who was more than happy to talk about a girl he didn’t care about right in front of your face just to prove he wasn’t secretly obsessed with you; and two, the knitting of your brows, and the parting of your lips—all of which were signs that you were hurt.

“Who’s the unlucky girl?” You sat on the desk, Atsumu eyeing you with a raised brow.

“Why? You jealous?”

Before you could reply, Suna, your savior, stepped in. “Why would she be? Oh by the way, we’re going out tomorrow, right?” He looks at you, and though you had no clue what he was talking about, you agreed.

“Where are we hanging out?” Atsumu asked, pinching your cheek on the pretext of annoying you. He was obviously just irritated you made plans without him.

“You, are not invited. It’s not a hangout, it’s a date.”

Those words reached far places, particularly the ones that Atsumu had unconsciously hidden and buried in secret. A date, but you never dated anyone. With Suna, but that meant it wasn’t with him. He really doesn’t care; he really doesn’t have an ounce of care what you did with who.

The only problem was that he was now outside the café Suna said you’d be at, his boots at least 2 inches buried in the snow, his nose red from the cold, and his hands shivering inside his pockets since he left his mittens in a hurry to get to you.

Confidently, he strides inside the café, stomach churning at the sight of you in a date spot with another guy. “Y/n! Didn’t expect to see ‘ya here!”

“You really ruin everything for me, huh,” you sigh, noting how Suna weirdly looked pleased to see Atsumu for once; although it was obvious this wasn’t a date since both Suna and you never saw each other in that way.

“Right. I came here to ruin the fun, but first, I need to take ‘ya outside,” he momentarily glances at the back of Suna’s head, as if he were an enemy and not his friend, “come quickly.” His patience ran out, having the urge to take you away from all males except him, he grabbed you by the wrist and practically dragged you outside.

While he may be a volleyball player, you were an ordinary person, you didn’t have that much stamina to jog and match his long strides. Still, despite your lungs begging for you to stop, letting go of his hand made you feel miserable. It’s the warmth, you reason. You don’t want to let go because his hands were flames fighting the snow, sending warmth all throughout your veins as you ran closely behind him, gripping his hand tighter.

It was a miracle you didn’t trip when your eyes were glued to him.

“What the hell is going on?” You ask, pretending not to feel a sudden wave of need at the absence of his hand on yours. He took you to a lonely alley a few blocks away from the café.

“Oh nothing,” he beams, wrapping his arms around you, “kinda missed ‘ya!”

You roll your eyes, pushing him off, “I’m going back, I can’t believe you went out of your way just to pester me.”

You scan his body, noticing how he was shivering from head to toe with only a coat as protection against the cold. Perhaps, what really irritated you was that he wasn’t caring for himself, but for now, you’re just going to say you’re mad that he crashed your ‘date.’

“You are so dense,” he grits his teeth, looking betrayed that you pushed him off.

“On the contrary, you’re the stupid one here! Running around in the snow like this just to bother me!” You glare, and he scoffs.

“There it is again, yer being blind and deaf, or are ‘ya pretending to not know?”

“Know what, you idiot?”

“That I want to kiss you!”

It was in the heat of the moment that the both of you failed to notice that you had grabbed the collars of his coat, and he, had let you pull himself close, your faces the closest it had been—even closer than when you two would tease each other with ‘attempt’ kisses just to shut the other up.

You were in a dangerous position, more so now that he had said that. As if to shake the waters more, his eyes flickered down to your lips even when it felt forbidden, just as you involuntarily looked at his then back up at his eyes.

You gather your thoughts, “you… want to kiss me?”

“I would never.”

Your previous anger resurfaced, and you pull away, “you’re wasting my time.”

“I want all of ‘yer time! Can ‘ya just stop pretending to not know?”

“I don’t know a thing, would your annoying ass care to elaborate?”

“You can’t go out with others! It’s not cool, alright? ‘Ya have me, I lose, I admit that I may like ‘ya. Actually, I like ‘ya more than I’d care to confess, so can ‘ya just please stop being so clueless and give in to me already!”

Moments passed, yet you both remained silent until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re serious.”

“Unfortunately,” he grumbles.

“You’re in love with me,” you grin, teasing him.

“Not that I wanted to be,” he rolls his eyes, turning away from you.

Hesitantly, you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and eventually resting your cheek on his back. He was stiff for a moment, before he lets out a shaky breath, his hand over his heart.

“I know ‘ya like me too, but save yer confession for tomorrow. I don’t think I can handle it.” He was serious. He really can’t handle too much of you.

“I’m just hugging you because you’re cold, stupid.”

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #atsumu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! headcanons #haikyuu!! imagines #atsumu miya x reader

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mister-supernova · 4 years ago

Text

Trust In Me

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

“You’re joking. You’re telling me, ME,--your oh so dearest best friend in this universe--that you’re not going to help us play against the Timberwolves even though you’re a freaking tribrid? You have all the powerups you can get and you’re choosing not to use them! What kind of madness is that, Marshall?”

“Professor Saltzman doesn’t let any of you use your abilities anyways, so there’s no real point in me helping the team, is there?”

You feel your eyes roll so far back you're surprised they didn’t fall out, “Come on! Do you have any idea what kind of badass duo we’d be out there?”

“Nope and I don’t intend on finding-”

“We’d be unstoppable! Those asshat Timberwolves won’t know what hit them on that field! You have to play at least one game while you’re at school here! Please!”

Hope responds to your argument with silence and a look on her face that you clearly read as, I’m not playing no matter how much you beg.

You knew there wasn’t any way of getting through to her thick skin, so you accepted your defeat. “Okay, fine,” you huff, taking a seat right next to Hope at the edge of your bed, “You’re still going to cheer me on though, right? I mean, it’s the least you could do.”

She takes an agonizingly long time thinking of her answer while looking at the hopeful ‘puppy dog’ look in your eyes. The longer she took, the bigger you made your eyes which eventually broke Hope into giving you a heartwarming smile, “Yes, I’ll be silently cheering you on.”

You smile back, “That’s all I need, Marshall.”

The alarm tone from your phone jolts you awake from another one of your vivid dreams. After meeting Hope outside the Grill the other night, your dreams have become more realistic than ever before.

They’re almost beginning to feel too real. Maybe the clarification of you knowing Hope is real influenced your brain into putting her into more lifelike dream scenarios.

It didn’t surprise you that the topic of conversation in the dream was about the annual Stallions versus Timberwolves game since it’s happening today. Even though your team has been notorious for losing on purpose every single year, you still liked the not-so-friendly competition between the rival schools.

At this morning's assembly, you were happy to hear your new headmaster’s announcement about banning the ‘throw the game’ rule. Josie seemed to be the only teammate who was hesitant about the sudden change, but everyone else was ecstatic.

The thing that threw you off the most during the assembly was Vardamus assigning Landon as the quarterback. See, you loved the guy and he’s one of your good friends here at the school, but you know damn well that his athletic ability is as good as a decapitated zombie--on either half--and even that was saying much.

You weren’t just saying this to bash on your friend because he was proving your analysis of him correct on the field as the team was warming up. You and Josie were helplessly trying to help him catch the ball after a snap.

Thankfully she has more patience with Landon than you because at this rate it didn’t look like you guys were winning this game either.

“Sorry. Foster care didn’t have a football team.” Landon grumbles after having the ball bounce off his chest.

“At least you didn’t let it hit you in the face this time,” you shrug, earning a searing glare from Josie, “I’ll go warm up over here now.”

You quickly excused yourself and ended up jogging over to Lizzie who was sitting on the bench with a stack of books by her side. First, Landon is your quarterback for the day and now you see Lizzie reading right now instead of warming up.

“What’s going on here? I thought you’d be pissed at Vardamus for giving Landon your QB spot.”

“I’m on a different kind of mission today, Y/n,” she says as you watch her flip through a book of monsters and that gives you the information you needed to know what this was about.

Coincidentally enough, Lizzie also met a new and mysterious stranger the same day you met Hope. The two of you bonded for the past few days over your slightly similar situations which you felt was very weird but also kind of cool.

“There’s no way Sebastian is like us and I’m determined to figure out just what he is.”

“And you couldn’t do this--hm, I don’t know--after the game today?” You ask in urgency for her to play today, “I mean, seriously Lizzie, this could be huge for us.”

“What’s wrong with Landon being your QB?”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you kidding? Just look at him!”

The both of you direct your attention to Landon on the field as Josie hands him the football. You prepare yourself for disaster as he winds his arm back, but then you find yourself proven wrong as you watch the distance the ball was being thrown. It seemed to soar through the sky for what felt like hours before bouncing off of a window from the Timberwolves’ bus.

“Looks like he has the magic touch now,” Lizzie says knowingly before returning to her book while you continue to stare at the bus in shock.

Right before you decided it was the best time to look away, a familiar someone seems to catch your eye instead. Walking down the steps of your rival school’s bus was none other than Hope Marshall.

“No way,” you muttered to yourself, unsure if you should be happy to see her again or concerned that she’s on the team you’re playing against.

Absentmindedly, you slowly started drifting away from your spot by Lizzie and felt yourself being pulled in Hope’s direction. You had to get closer to clarify that she was who you were seeing and not some sick mirage you’ve created in your brain.

“L/n!” Dorian jumps in front of you, breaking your trance and blocking your path towards the opposing team, “Save any trash talk for the game. I don’t need you picking a fight with the other players before we even start.”

You had built yourself a reputation for these annual games and were known for getting kicked out due to foul plays off the field, “But Mr. Williams I was just-”

“That’s Coach Williams today, L/n. Back to your side. Go on!” He rushes you away and though you are strong enough to push past him, you’d rather play then be a benchwarmer for the rest of the day.

An annoyed growl rumbles in the back of your throat as you try to catch one more glimpse of Hope, but you were blocked by Dorian’s clipboard.

Josie can clearly see the longing anticipation in your eyes as you join your team’s side of the field. You looked like a lost kid in a mall looking for their parents, “Everything okay, Y/n?”

“Do you remember those drawings from my sketchbook this summer? The ones of that girl, but all you can really see are her eyes and hair?” You ask her in a hushed voice.

She nods, “Yeah, the one you said you’ve been seeing in your dreams.”

“Okay, well I met her the night of our first day back at school. She’s real and she’s here with the Timberwolves,” Josie furrows her eyebrows at you.

“So you met her before your dreams?”

“No. That’s the thing, I’ve never seen her in town before the other night and after all my dreams. I know for damn sure that I’d remember her being on our rival school’s football team given how many times I’ve tried kicking their asses every year.”

“Maybe she’s a new student this year? You very well could’ve seen her at the Grill this summer without even realizing it. Our brains only need to see a face once for them to show up in our dreams.”

“Josie, I swear on everything in my life that it’s-”

The referee’s whistle rings your ears as he calls for everyone’s attention, “Stallions! Timberwolves! Both teams meet in the middle for the coin toss!”

You and Josie sigh knowing that you’d have to put a pin in this conversation, “You ready?” She asks.

You nod, doing a few quick stretches since you didn’t get a lot of warm up time and to prepare yourself for seeing Hope again, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

A wave of excitement filled your chest as you walked with Josie towards the middle of the field. The bashful smile on your face was hard to contain once your eyes landed back on Hope who you could clarify was very much real and very much here in front of you once more.

“Oh, wow,” Josie mutters with surprise from beside you.

“I told you I liked my chances, Marshall,” you smirk, gaining a small tight lipped smile from Hope in return.

“I guess today was your lucky day, then. Not for long, though,” she challenged, playfully squinting her eyes at you.

You lean your body slightly forward with a confident grin, “We’ll see about that.”

Your teammates share a confused look at the interaction they were witnessing between you two. “I see you’re... familiar with each other,” Hope’s teammate chimes in.

With a shrug you say, “We’re practically married. Isn’t that right, Marshall?”

Hope shakes her head at you, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut long enough for Vardamus to stand between your two teams and break your friendly banter.

With a little sprinkle of magic from Josie, your team won the coin toss with ease so the Stallions would be receiving the ball at the start.

“Okay, what was that?” Josie asks as the two of you walk back to your side of the field.

“What? Did you want me to call heads instead?”

“No! Not that. You and that girl.”

“I told you we met the other night,” you shrug, “and her name is Hope for your information.”

“That was not an interaction from two people who’ve only had one conversation, Y/n. Not to mention she really does look like the girl from your drawings. Are you sure you haven’t met before?”

“That’s what I was telling you and yes, I’m positive that I’ve never interacted with her prior to the other night. You think that if I hadn’t seen or met her at the Grill during the summer that we wouldn’t be best friends by now?”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me! I know you’re labeled as the social butterfly and all, but that must’ve been some long conversation if that’s how you’re acting around each other.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, “Actually it was only about ten minutes.”

“WHAT?!”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of the ref’s whistle signaling you all to line up for kickoff. You jog away to your position before Josie can interrogate you any longer and wait for the game to begin.

Stallions were able to use magic to their advantage and gain points within the first play which was something you never thought you’d see during your time here. As everyone repositions into defense, you notice that Hope is the quarterback for the Timberwolves.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m about to suggest something you may or may not like,” Josie says from next to you.

“Don’t worry, I got the QB,” you grin, gaining Hope’s attention. She notices the mischievous look in your eyes and almost looks as if she knows what you’re up to, making her a little nervous.

“Like it is, I guess,” Jo huffs.

Once the football reached Hope’s hands, you made a b-line towards her, quick to avoid any other players who were blocking your way. Careful not to crush her during the fall, you took Hope by the waist and spun the both of you to the ground.

Your tackle didn’t do much good given that she was still able to pass the ball. Whether it got to her teammate or not you weren’t too sure of at the moment because Hope’s body was literally tangled with yours.

With her one hand against your chest and the other keeping her propped up on the grass, Hope’s face was almost an inch away from you. Feeling her breathing heavily on your face, you oddly felt like you’ve been in this exact position before.

“Bet you enjoyed doing that, huh?” Hope speaks up, getting you to huff out a chuckle.

“Well it wasn’t the preferred way I wanted to take you out, per say, but a little bit, yeah,” you smile, getting her to laugh in return.

Being in this position with someone you’ve talked to so briefly should feel awkward, but for whatever reason it just felt right. If it weren’t for the fact that you were playing in a football match, you’d probably want to stay like this for a while longer.

Suddenly, Hope’s eyes widen as she quickly rolls off you and begins wincing in pain while grabbing at her ankle.

“Are you okay?” You ask while sitting up.

“Ah, I don’t know. I-I think it’s sprained,” she lightly groans, scrunching up her face.

“Shit, Marshall. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I-” you shake your head, pushing yourself to your feet before reaching out to help Hope up, “here, I can help take you to the nurse if you want.”

“It’s okay. I can find it,” she shakes her head and she takes note of the worried look in your eye knowing that you had hurt her, “Hey, seriously Y/n, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” Hope squeezes your arm and gives you a reassuring look before limping off the field.

You watched as she walked away, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You were sure that you were careful while pulling her to the ground. Hope didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain for the first few seconds after tackling her.

“You know she faked her injury right?” Josie pops in out of nowhere, making your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

“Jesus, Jo,” you take a deep breath before taking in her inquisition, “And you think so?”

“Yeah and I don’t know why, but maybe you should keep an eye on her.”

“Why? Do you think she’ll steal some snacks from the kitchen?” You jokingly ask.

“Well, you started having dreams of her after Malivore was destroyed and now she seems to be oddly gravitated to this town and our school. I’m just saying that you should be a little more careful about trusting her so fast.”

Though you haven’t felt anything off-putting about Hope, Josie had an annoyingly excellent point. “I guess I’m on watch duty, then. Find a sub for me.”

It was shocking to see that Hope had gotten so far ahead of you that you weren’t even in running distance from her. Oddly fishy for someone who just sprained their ankle. Even as you walked into the school, there was no sign of her in the halls or the nurse’s office.

There was one thing that stuck out--a familiar scent that you had smelled in that vacant dorm room this summer. Only this time it was a lot stronger than when you first caught it.

Out of curiosity, you followed the smell just to see if it would lead you anywhere. Crazily enough, it didn’t take you to the vacant room like you thought it would, but to Landon and Raf’s dorm room instead.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see Hope sitting cross-legged in front of a map that she was currently dripping her own blood onto.

“Hope?”

She quickly turns around and stands, startled by the sound of your voice, “Y/n! Uh, I um, this isn’t what it--”

“Isn’t what it looks like? Right. Well, it looks like you faked an injury to sneak into the school. It looks like you forgot to mention you were a witch the other night. It also looks like you’re doing a locator spell in my missing friend’s room.”

Hope remains silent for a couple of seconds, almost taken back by the passive way you were speaking to her, “Okay, maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.”

You huff out a sigh in disbelief, letting Josie’s suspicions about Hope sink into your head now.

“I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else here, Y/n. I promise, I’m trying to help. Dr. Saltzman asked me to do a locator spell on Rafael so that I can help him return to his human form.”

You give her a questioning look, “We’ve been looking for a way to turn him back for months now. What makes you think you can?”

“Because I know more about the Crescent Wolf Clan than anyone else here.”

You raise a brow, “That wolf pack in New Orleans? If you know so much about it, wouldn’t that make you a…” then the realization sets in.

Hope sees that you’re still skeptical, “Look, I can’t explain everything right now, but I really need you to trust me, Y/n.”

Most of the context clues told you that trusting someone you’ve only known for less than a day was a terrible, terrible idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you believe that.

As much as you shouldn’t, you trusted Hope more than anything.

You exhale, “Okay, Marshall. I’m trusting you. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Hope gives you a grateful smile, “Keep an eye on Landon. There’s a werewolf-eating monster out in the woods and I have no idea if it will be after him, too,” she says, walking past you and into the hallway.

Again, you’re confused with even more new information, “Wait, there’s a what in the woods? And how do you know the monster would be after Landon?” Hope ignores your questions, continuing to speed walk in front of you, “Marshall!”

A lot of events took place within the next couple of hours. You did as Hope asked and watched Landon back at the game which seemed pretty boring at first.

Josie took you by surprise as you witnessed her break another player’s arm with a spell mid-play, but to be fair it didn’t look like she realized what she was doing until the damage was done.

If that wasn't physically violent enough, there was a huge mosh fight between both schools after the game was over. You tried getting out of the crossfire because the last thing you needed was detention for being involved in something you didn’t mean to be a part of.

That didn’t go as planned seeing as one of the Timberwolves was able to punch a mean hook on your right cheek before you could scramble out of there. Most of the redness faded by the end of the night, but it was still a little sore whenever you poked at it.

Hope was able to return Raf back to his human form just like she said she would. He explained how this “mysterious girl” saved his life then you and your friends gave him a warm welcome back to humanity.

After cleaning yourself up, you snuck out of the school’s building to find Hope sitting out at one of the piers where she told you to meet her before parting ways earlier.

You could tell she had cleaned up as well judging by the change of clothes and seeing that her hair was no longer tied up in braids, but now flowing down over her shoulders.

“Well, today was eventful, huh?” You speak up, groaning as you take a seat next to her.

“Oh, my God. Y/n, your face!” Hope exclaims.

“You know you can just call me ugly, Marshall. There’s no need for you to act all aghast about it.” You tease.

“No, I mean the gash on your cheek.” She reaches for your face to observe your wound more clearly.

You let her lightly trace along the edge of the bump, almost unfazed by the contact, “Oh right, that.”

“What kind of altercation did you get yourself into?”

You scoff, looking more hurt by the question rather than the punch to your face, “Bold of you to assume it was me who initiated the altercation, Marshall.”

“Well, you just seem like the type is all.” She looks at you with a teasing look in her eyes.

“What a kind and accurate assumption you have of me there, but for the record I wasn’t the one who started the fight. Everyone just started going at each other after the game and I got caught in the crossfire.”

There’s a very noticeable shift in Hope’s mood and you can tell that she was genuinely worried about you getting hurt. All she could think about was the last time you were caught in the crossfire and how it nearly cost you your life. You didn’t know that, of course, but you felt the need to reassure her.

“You’re cute when you’re worried, Marshall, but I’m fine. I promise, a punch to the face is like a slap on the wrist. You should know the healing process is quite fast for a werewolf.” You give her a knowing look.

Hope’s eyes widen in realization, making her finally pull her hand away from your face. “You caught onto that, huh?”

“I figured it out once you mentioned the Crescent Wolves. Raf only confirmed it when he explained how this mysterious werewitch saved his life,” Hope looks down at her lap looking like a kid who got caught in a lie, “Thank you, by the way. For bringing my friend back.”

She meets your gaze again, giving you a tight lipped smile, “You’re welcome.”

“You know it’s too bad you didn’t have me helping you out there. Given that we’ve got a pretty good thing going on here, we could’ve made a badass team.”

“You got punched in the face by a human. How do you think you would’ve stood against a monster that actively wanted to kill you?”

“That’s the whole point of being a team. One runs around failing miserably while the other pulls the weight.”

Hope scrunches her eyebrows together, “That’s literally not what being a team is supposed to be like at all.”

“Seriously?” You ask cluelessly, “Damn, well I guess I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

She laughs and for the first time you notice the way her eyes squint together when she really lets herself smile. It sparked a feeling in you that you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you, Marshall?” You speak up in a playful tone, lightly bumping her shoulder, “Has our 24-hour friendship meant nothing to you? I mean, seriously, how could you not tell me you were a hybrid?”

Hope gives you an appalled scoff, “You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf. Looks like we both hid something from each other last night.”

You stare at her for a second, squinting your eyes as you analyze her, “Hmm. Touche, Marshall.”

She lets out another laugh and this time you swear you can feel your heart begin to grow.

Gosh, she’s really beautiful.

You wished you could say the words aloud. Part of you was surprised that you couldn’t given how bold you’ve been with Hope regardless of the little amount of time you’ve known her.

As much as you wanted to make some sort of move now, you felt you had to draw the line somewhere.

“Y/n, you’re staring.” Hope tells you in a voice that was just above a whisper.

You blink yourself back to reality, “Sorry,” you say with your voice just as hushed, “It’s just that… I think…” For the first time in your life you have no idea what to say. No witty comment or dumb remark.

You searched her deep blue eyes for an answer you couldn’t find. If anything you felt even more lost the longer you looked into them.

I really want to kiss you right now. Your mouth was open, but no words were willing to come out.

For a second you swore you saw Hope begin to lean forward, but the moment ended rather abruptly thanks to your cell phone ringer.

“Jesus,” you flinch yourself back into reality once again before picking up the phone, “Hello?”

“Y/n, where the hell are you? Vardamus has done a room check twice now and says you haven’t been answering your door.” Lizzie frantically asks you.

“I’ll be there in a second. Just cover for me if he’s still lurking in the halls and tell him I’m knocked out from today’s game.”

“Fine, just hurry your ass up!” She whisper-shouts before hanging up.

You let out a deep and exaggerated sigh, “Well, fun’s over, Marshall,” you grin sadly, “It’s pumpkin time.”

She returns a soft smile back at you, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I’ll only say goodbye if it means we’re gonna say hello again,” you tell her as you rise to your feet.

“Well, then let's not say goodbye,” she says while you help her up, “Maybe if we just say goodnight instead, that's gotta mean we'll see each other again.”

You look down at her with a smirk, “That's all I need, Marshall.”

Hope rolls her eyes with a smile she couldn't contain. Just when you thought she’d walk away, she takes you by surprise as she presses a small kiss on your wounded cheek, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You bite the sides of your cheeks to keep your smirk from turning into the goofiest looking smile you could possibly imagine, “Goodnight, Hope,” you say, finally turning back to make your way towards the school.

At this point, you couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the kiss or the punch.

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired @idek-5

heyooo i know it's been a minute, but i hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter... again, i can't say how long it'll be until part 7 but i'll get to working on it as soon as possible! thanks for all your love and support for this series everyone, it really means a lot to me <3

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson imagine #legacies #legacies cw #legacies imagine #legacies x reader

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oddaodd · 4 years ago

Note

If you want to, I’d love a fic with reader deciding to go to Margate with Alfie once he tells her he has cancer, she knows it will be much healthier for him to be there so she tells him to finish up all his business in London and they leave. She tries to make each day memorable, she wants him to enjoy whatever he had left so she bakes with him, she reads to him while cuddling on the couch, she takes him on walks around the beach, she dances with him while the music plays on his record player, etc... but of course Alfie is a badass and yes, some days he’s too tired to move or eat but he still gets to live lol because I can’t handle too much angst, I need my fluffy ending :)

· Life In Margate ·

Author’s note: Ahhhh this request was too cute and I’m sorry it took so long, but I really wanted it to be perfect and sweet. I hope you like it and have a lovely day! ❤️

Warnings: bittersweet emotions.

The sea breeze hitting her face as the car neared Margate brought an immense feeling of calm she didn’t know she had been needing so badly. With each breath she took she became more and more convinced that deciding to come to Margate with Alfie had been the best idea she had ever had.

During the first few days there, Alfie was worn out and still recovering from being shot. Drug fueled hallucinations and strange pains tormented him for full days during which Y/n never left his side.

She would never tell him, but with each wince that fell from his lips, she felt herself dying a little. She remembered the exact moment she felt a timer being set on her own life when he told her he had cancer and each pain and medication served as a dreadful reminder that the unavoidable was coming. Creeping up on her neck slowly but steadily like a crocodile does on an unsuspecting zebra.

One morning Y/n woke up and felt immediately panicked when she didn’t see Alfie laying in bed.

“Elizabeth?” She called with an anxious voice to one of the maids.

“Where’s my husband?” She asked frightened once the young woman walked into the room in a perfectly collected manner.

“He’s having breakfast, madame” she said politely.

Y/n rushed downstairs “Alf?” She asked softly as she neared the terrace in which a nice table was set with an array of alluring foods in front of Alfie.

“I would have thought that me coming down for breakfast wouldn’t cause you an attack” he said lightly, a soft teasing tone lingering in his gruff voice.

“I didn’t even hear you get up” she said drawing out a chair and sitting down next to him

“You seemed peaceful sleeping, waking you up seemed sacrilegious”

Y/n chortled a bit before helping herself to some toast and jam, her initial shock of waking up without him next to her, not having dissipated yet. She couldn’t shake off her own nasty voice telling her that it would always be like that some dreadful day.

Alfie noticed it immediately and went to hold her hand in his.

“Im alright, treacle. Feeling much better today, maybe its all this fresh air”

Y/n smiled weakly and intertwined her fingers with his. “I told you it would do you good”

They finished having breakfast among joyful banter. The sound of Alfie’s voice, that day unburdened by tiredness made Y/n feel joy for the first time in a long time.

That night they basked into each other’s embrace as Y/n read to him on a couch adjacent to an open window. The sea breeze pouring from the window along Y/n’s soothing voice and occasional caresses made Alfie feel he was in heaven.

“I love everything you bake for me, Alf, but really, you should know by now I’m dangerous in the kitchen” Y/n said when Alfie lead her to the kitchen one Friday evening.

“You just need some patience” he assured “plus it can’t go wrong when you have me here to guide you”

“Alright” she said giving in with a smile “but I refuse to take the blame if this pie turns out awful”

And so Alfie lead her through the whole recipe and when the pie was ready they remained in the kitchen eating it and fooling around till the first rays of sun began teasing the morning sky.

Life in Margate felt like life in an alternate universe. An universe that belonged entirely to Alfie and Y/n, in which the troubles and worries of the outside world couldn’t penetrate.

Between informal dances in the living room and tender kisses in the kitchen, Y/n was fast to ignore the cruelty of the real world.

It wasn’t till one day Alfie was too tired to get out of bed that Y/n was reminded that not even Margate’s magical air could make everything disappear. She stayed in bed with him that day, fed him soup and took care of him as he rested.

It took some days for Alfie to feel better again and when he did Y/n felt she could breathe again. When Alfie suggested talking a walk on the beach Y/n couldn’t help but be a bit worried.

“Are you sure?”

“I can manage a walk down the beach” he said tenderly.

And so they ventured to roam the seashore, which was something that always brought great peace to both of them. When they tired of walking they doped for sitting down to admire the sunset. Holding hands Y/n let her head rest on Alfie’s shoulder with a soft sigh.

Days and then months flew by and had less and less days where he couldn’t get out of bed. His sick days seemed long gone, but Y/n refused to let herself dwell into that dream. She knew life wasn’t that perfect.

The sound of soft music began flowing through the small parlor one late evening as Y/n stood on the balcony looking at a ship sailing at a distance. Soon after, she felt Alfie’s rough hands take hold of her was it and softly turn her around.

She smiled up at him and threw her arms over his shoulders as he started swaying softly to the tune. Y/n followed along, giggling as she let him spin her around.

“You are a sight for sore eyes” Alfie’s voice rang through her ears causing a soft red tinge to paint her cheeks.

“You don’t look to bad yourself, Mr. Solomons” Y/n smiled in a teasing tone before letting her head rest against Alfie’s chest, which vibrated with a chuckle at her compliment.

“I love you, Alfie” Y/n confessed as she listened to the beating of his heart.

“I love you more, treacle”

@nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons one shot #alfie solomons request #alfie solomons angst #alfie solomons fluff #peaky blinder one shot #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders request

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aprilsrant · 4 years ago

Text

Lay all your love on me | Oliver Wood x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N)’s been crushing on the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain for over three years. Now, in their seventh and last year of Hogwarts, her friends are determined to get them together.

WORD COUNT: 2,833.

WARNINGS: underage drinking. (If there are more and I didn’t put them, let me know).

NEXT PARTS:

Honey Honey! (part two)

When I kissed the teacher (part three).

A/N: so, this came out because of a random idea and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. For some reason, I like to imagine wizards dancing to ABBA, of course it’s the muggleborns and maybe halfbloods that know about them. This was written while I listened to Lay all your love on me, slowed down, on repeat. I algo gave the reader’s friends name because it was easier, and I may or mat not based their personality on my own close friends…

English is not my first language so if there are any mistakes, I’m sorry! Reblog if you can, and if you have any suggestions or requests just DM!

Masterlist.

tags: @peeves-a-legend (thank you for everything).

The Ravenclaw vs Hufflepuff Quidditch match had ended with a win for the eagle’s house, although the other team did not make it easy for them. The Hufflepuffs were known for their patience and hard working nature, giving up easily was not one of their traits and that’s exactly what everyone had seen on the match this afternoon. They knew their opponent’s Seeker, Cho Chang was getting better with each game she played, so the Captain of the Hufflepuff Team decided their best chance was, if he wasn’t fast enough to catch the snitch that is, to lash out against the poor Keeper.

And so they did.

The Chasers, Preece, Macavoy and Applebee, were unstoppable. On the occasion the Quaffle landed in their hands, which had been like seventy percent of the time, they would use many different strategies to confuse the other players, including the Keeper, and score a goal.

Even after their brilliant performance, Ravenclaw still won by twenty points ahead when Cho Chang caught the snitch. A small distraction from the Hufflepuff Seeker and Captain had cost them the victory, but that didn’t discourage the badgers, hell, (Y/N) thought nothing could after how well they had played. She had never felt so much respect for the usually overlooked House.

That was pretty much the reason why the Ravenclaws were so eager to celebrate their win and had invited the whole school, or at least everyone up to the age of fifteen, to their Common Room. Many people believed they weren’t capable of throwing a good party since they were supposed to be smart and have their head on a book every minute, but (Y/N) never doubted them. One of her best friends was a Ravenclaw and that girl sure knew how to have fun, school and good grades being the last thing on her mind whenever she got sight of the Firewhisky.

If you had asked for (Y/N)’s opinion, she would tell you Ravenclaws were the seconds best at Hogwarts on the matter of hosting parties, Slytherins right up to them. Albeit that may have been biased, she herself was a Slytherin and, thinking about it, she never went to any Gryffindor parties because, well, no one except her other friend wanted a Slytherin there. Many of them thought they were some kind of saints just because they were brave and didn’t realise they were, instead, a bunch of reckless and prejudiced twats. The remaining house, Hufflepuff, took parties to a whole other level and sometimes it became all a little too much. She wasn’t much of a party person but she still enjoyed them from time to time, but they went insane any time alcohol was in the room and started to come up with crazy ideas that would, with no doubt, get them expelled.

After waiting ten minutes for a member of the house to step out and answer the riddle for her, which (Y/N) knew you didn’t need to be part of the house to reply but even as a Slytherin and having, supposedly, a cunning and intelligent mind she sucked at those kind of questions; she, and twenty others, finally entered the Ravenclaw Common Room, which was completely renovated since the last time she had visited it.

The circular and wide room was filled with students from all the four houses making it seem smaller than it actually was. The moon shone, filtering through the arched windows, barely illuminated but some flickering and colour changing lights on the ceiling made it work. The furniture was against the wall on the left side so people could dance freely in the middle, while the tables on the right bursted with food and bottles of alcohol. A muggle radio had been placed on one of the large table’s corner and to (Y/N)’s delight, it wasn’t playing any songs by the Weird Sisters. She loathed that band since last year when some students, presumably Gryffindors, enchanted the speakers on the hallways to repeatedly play one of the group’s songs.

The girl started to move towards the left side of the room, avoiding the crowd growing larger and larger. Trying to catch some familiar faces, she stood on her tiptoes and observed the room, but the lack of light and her problem with seeing things from afar, made her search harder. A couple of minutes had passed when she recognized the trio she was friends with. They were waving and screaming her name, trying to catch her attention, right beside the door that led to the dormitories.

(Y/N) grinned at them while walking in their direction. Once she settled on Isla’s side, her best friend since childhood, some of her nerves were washed away a little. It was easier for her to be in a place packed with people if she had her close friends as company. Dorian, the last one to join the group in their fifth year, offered her a black cup with, judging by the smell, Quintin Black, her favourite. The corners of her mouth quirking up as a way of saying thanks without having to shout at him to make herself be heard through the loud music.

The Multicolour Quartet — name they all despised but stood with it because it was one of Dorian’s drunk comments when he realised how they were all from different houses; (Y/N) was the Slytherin, he was the Gryffindor, and the other two, Isla and Ethan, were both Ravenclaws — easily fell in a conversation about Isla’s brilliant performance as Chaser for her House’s Team, the other three complimenting her whenever she started to list all the errors that almost allowed the Hufflepuffs to win.

Spacing out of her friend’s chat, (Y/N)’s eyes peer round the room looking, nearly in a desperate way, for someone in particular. Answering the comments the other three made with a simple nod of her head or a yes to seem like she was paying attention, her eyes fixated in a figure directly across from them, supporting it’s body’s weight on a wall. He was surrounded by some of his classmates and friends from the same house, but she could still see, albeit with great trouble, his short brown hair and his right hand holding a black cup, equal to the one she had.

She failed to realise that her friends had noticed where her attention travelled to. Sharing knowing glances and smirks they knew it was time for (Y/N) to talk to the boy she’d been crushing on for three years now. Isla and Ethan left saying some people were starting to cause trouble, not that (Y/N) had actually listened to them, too lost in attempting to catch another glimpse of the boy. That ended on Dorian, the most chaotic of the four, finding the way to make them, at least, share two or three words.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her left arm dragging her along the room and pushing people on the way. That belonged to Dorian and it didn’t take long for her to understand what he was doing, his mischievous smile betraying him. Her eyes widened and she shook her head while planting her feet on the floor, putting all her strength on them so he wouldn’t move her. She didn’t succeed. Obviously because of his friend’s stronger hands.

A chant of pleas and several no exited from her mouth, but it was useless. If something got inside Dorian’s head, then nothing could stop him from doing it. A trait they both shared and the cause of a few of their arguments, neither of them knew when to back the hell down. Not even the promise of (Y/N) doing his Arithmancy homework for two weeks made him stop on his tracks. Dorian had really compromised to the cause because she knew how much he detested that subject, only taking it to please his father.

Before she could raise the offer to a month, they were already in front of him and the group he was chatting with.

Oliver Wood smiled at the two friends, recognizing only one of them but still being kind and inviting towards her, whose heart was about to jump out of her chest from how fast it was beating.

“Hey, Wood, how’re you doing?,” Dorian greeted him first and then nodded at the others as if he was saying hi, “preparing for the Quidditch match next week?”

(Y/N) stood awkwardly by Dorian’s side, looking and smiling shyly at people she had never interacted with. She was going to cut this boy’s head of the minute everyone left.

“Yeah, the Hufflepuffs played like hell today.” She heard Oliver say. His words tumbling with each other. Was he already starting to get drunk? “I think I’ll need to book more practices if we want to win next week”.

Luckily, or not, Dorian noticed he hadn’t introduced his friend to the group yet. And even if she didn’t like to just stand there like a rigid stick, she hated the new attention.

“This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), by the way,” he announced while placing his right hand on the upper side of her back and pushing her body to the front. And the shy smile made an appearance on her face once more.

She whispered a small hello, looking at everyone but Oliver, and instantly felt the need to jump off the Astronomy Tower, not long after making Dorian the next designated Gryffindor Ghost.

“What house are you in? I’ve never seen you before,” questioned one of the boys next to Oliver with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a lost look on his eyes, as if he was trying to place her and remember the colours of the tie she used daily.

“She’s not a Gryffindor, maybe that’s why you haven’t seen her much,” Dorian answered before she had the chance to, “she’s actually a Slytherin.” A new expression on his face now, intimidating the others to see if they dared to express some kind of negative or stupid comment to his friend about the house she belonged to. No one said anything. She saw Dorian smiling proudly from the corner of her eye, but in that moment (Y/N) had the weird sensation she was some kind of prey to starving lions.

The group began to talk to each again, like nothing happened, all except Oliver, who was looking at her with his eyebrows raised and an intriguing sparkle in his dark brown eyes.

Dorian spoked once more.

Does he ever shut up?

“Remember the other day you said you were falling behind in Potions and Transfiguration?” Oliver nodded at him, signalising her friend to keep talking. “Well, I have the perfect person to help you with that. (Y/N) tutors me from time to time in those subjects too.”

Forget the Astronomy Tower, she desperately needed some kind of magical earthquake that could crack the floor beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

It’s not like Dorian was lying, she had helped him, and still did sometimes, to study for an important test, not only in Potions and Transfiguration, but also in the rest of the subjects they shared. Merlin knew that boy was a disaster when talking about paying attention to classes. But that didn’t mean she was good enough to tutor Oliver freaking Wood. (Y/N) could treat Dorian how she wanted if he wasn’t trying to, at least, know what she was talking about, they were friends and most of their time together was spent hitting each other, but how was she supposed to act around the precious Gryffindor Quidditch Captain?

“Great!,” Oliver exclaimed quickly. A sudden blush crept all the way from below his turtle neck to his cheeks, but she couldn’t identify if it happened because of the alcohol or embarrassment from sounding “too enthusiastic”. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I was about to start looking for one. McGonagall said that if I don’t get my grades up to an Exceeds Expectations, I won’t be able to play the rest of the matches.”

“That sucks, but you’d found one already so you two can start immediately with the tutoring sessions”, Dorian commented slily while looking at her with the smile of a champion adorning his face.

He was trying exceptionally hard, she had to give him that.

In a swift movement, she drank the whole content of her cup to see if the knot that had formed on her stomach would go away. The blonde girl, perhaps a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, beside (Y/N) noticed her drink was missing and offered her to reach out for one of the bottles of the table across. The Slytherin nodded and asked for the bottle of Quintin Black if there was still one.

“So you like Scottish things?” Oliver observed, with his eyes lighted up and his bottom lip stuck beneath his teeth, when he saw her grab the bottle of alcohol filled to the middle with onyx liquid.

“She sure does.” She heard Dorian mumble, he had tried to hide the smirk burying his face on his cup but (Y/N) took notice of that too. After giving him a pointed look, she turned her head towards Oliver, who, hopefully, hadn’t heard her friend’s remark; if he had, he was good at concealing it.

Her response was interrupted by the starting melody of “Lay all your love on me”, one of her favourite songs, and a voice that could only belong to her best friend, screaming her name. Out of nowhere, Isla took her hand, said something to Oliver and Dorian about returning her to them later, and yanked (Y/N) to the direction of the made up dance floor, making her almost drop the cup she was holding.

It was an unspoken rule between them, whenever one of their favourite songs was on the radio, they would stop what they were doing, important or not, and start to dance and sing, without caring about other people’s opinion. It was something like a ritual that had become a safe space and a signature of their friendship for both of the girls.

A few seconds through the song had played when Celine stopped dancing and approached her friend, whispering something in her ear.

“Okay, don’t look and don’t freak out, but Oliver hot stuff Wood is staring at you.”

“What? What do I do?”

“Just keep dancing, I guess, maybe he likes it.”

“I don’t know how to dance, why would he like it?”

Confusion and panic in her eyes, (Y/N) tried to think about all the logical reasons Oliver Wood, one of the most attractive guys in the school, could be watching her dance. The girl knew she wasn’t beautiful, even if her best friend repeatedly said so, she wasn’t funny or interesting and, on top of all, she belonged in Slytherin, the House with the worst reputation.

“No idea, but whatever it is, keep doing it.”

Her best friend winked at her, a large and contagious smile spreading over her face. Grabbing one of (Y/N)’s hands, she made her twirl around following the fast beat of the song. Seizing the opportunity, (Y/N) glanced at Oliver and discovered that he was, indeed, staring at her while he drank from his black cup.

A random and unexpected laugh flew out of her mouth. Her best friend, carefree as always, began to giggle with her while dancing around the room. She had never felt more alive, and some people would think she was ridiculous for actually thinking it, but singing her favourite song at the top of her lungs, dancing and laughing and just having fun with her best friend. Excitement running through her veins uniting with the nerves Oliver’s attention towards her had provoked; a slight headache caused by the alcohol mixing with the new confidence coming from the same thing.

Aware of the dark brown eyes focusing on her, she turned around once more, but this time she didn’t look away. She kept singing, beaming at him from the middle of the dance floor, and maintaining eye contact. A sudden thought appeared on her mind, if she’d had maybe one more full cup of Quintin Black, perhaps she would’ve been confident enough to ask him on a date.

Don’t go wasting your emotions, lay all your love on me.

Don’t go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me.

(Y/N) didn’t think that he would take that as an invitation when she whispered the words while looking at him, it wasn’t even meant to be one, but Oliver Wood had left his cup on the table next to him and was now walking towards her.

A little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck.

I still don’t know what you’ve done with me.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #slytherin!reader #oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x slytherin!reader #slytherin #harry potter fanfiction #oliver wood imagine #fluff #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood oneshot #hp imagine

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shattersstar · 4 years ago

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waiting room

pairing: dick grayson x (criminal) reader

summary: dick wanted to save you, but he never intended on falling for you as well.

warning(s): kinda angst, mostly dialogue, mention of death and crime stuff

a/n: ah yes another random fic written in my notes. grammar and such is probably bad and i haven’t written for dick in like..forever so be nice. feedback is always appreciated

—

“You left.” You heard him before seeing him. Voice carrying in the air above as you shrugged, flipping through the files stacked in front of you.

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?” He had moved closer in the rafters, but still out of sight. You weren’t going searching for him, he could come to you.

“Finding this building.”

“I would’ve helped.” He huffed out a breath with the last word, softly landing behind you.

“Don’t know if you’d approve of my methods.” You turned your head minimally, eyes downcast, but listening as he approached. He rested his chin on your shoulder, making you grin before turning back to your search.

“Probably not.” You could hear the pause in his tone, the unasked question lingering in the air next to you.

“I didn’t kill anyone Dick.”

“Nightwing.” He warned, pulling himself away from you and rounding the other side of the table. Dick scanned over the files from behind his mask, hair falling in his face as he leaned over the accounting records. “Looking for strange fund activity?”

“No, a name. Some accountant who has covered his trail for years, but was some junior worker or intern here. Signed off on a few deals under his old boss, its the only paper trail he’s left.” You explained, shoving a stack of files his direction.

“How come he didn’t get rid of these?” Dick pondered, gloved fingers brushing overs as he picked the top folder.

“Didn’t think to hide back then maybe? Don’t know how many people preplan a criminal life.”

“When’d you start planning yours?”

“Shut up,” You grinned, glancing at the figures Dick pointed out. “I also heard that this company was digital when he worked here, but just happened to print out a few years of records for some lawsuit. He probably deleted the digital records, and was unaware of these.”

Dick hummed, opening the folder in his hand and realizing he had no idea what to look for.

“How are you gonna find him if you don’t know his name?”

“Ye of little faith, I expected more from you Di—Nightwing. You always seem so optimistic in turning me to the good side, and now here you are thinking so little of me.” You teased, joining his side of the table. He scoffed at your remark, nudging you with his elbow after you bumped him with your hip. “I have his first name and the amounts of signed off for. Just gotta cross reference them.”

“How long you been at it?”

“You should know, you were in the rafters like what? ten minutes after I broke in?” You raised a brow, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Had to found out what was so much more compelling than staying in bed with me.”

“One of us was gonna leave anyway, I just happened to be first.” You were pragmatic to a fault, pulling your lip between your teeth at Dick’s pointed silence. You knew what he was going to say; if you finally gave him your real name, finally gave into him and all the tumultuous feelings wrapping the two of you up, no one would have to leave. You wouldn’t have to leave. But something bitter and destructive in you resented the idea, giving in wasn’t apart of your nature anymore, love and romance weren’t players in the scheme of your life. You had work to do, and despite standing near pressed up against him, and already deciding which safe house to go back to with Dick tonight, you still couldn’t bring yourself to fall into this. He wasn’t yours to love, despite how the light parts of you wanted it so. “I will admit, this definitely isn’t more compelling.”

Dick chuckled at that, reading the figures and name to search for on the slip of paper you had tucked into one of your pockets. You two kept sorting through the records, silent and focused, only speaking when you needed him to pass you more or he came close to finding what you needed. You were aware that Dick hadn’t asked why you needed this name, that he wasn’t going to suddenly decide for you to help you. He knew how deeply your strove for independence, rarely ever going back to his place or asking for help.

And, it was hard not to step on your toes when all Dick wanted to do was help you. It was how you met, why he continued showing up in your life. He wanted you to be good, and fair, and at some point the lines of vigilantism and his feelings started to blur. He thought letting you into parts of his life, showing you the good he did while out as Nightwing and giving you kindness in shared meals on rooftops would help you see some light.

But after some point, Dick realized he wasn’t only helping you because he wanted you to be on the right side of things, but he was doing it for his own moral compass. It felt wrong to love someone who had hurt so many, cared only for themselves and would always resort to the same types of violence, and same means to get what they wanted. All your dark parts felt like they were his too, as if you were the jaded version of what Dick could become and saving you meant saving himself and proving his feelings right. He wanted to tell you that, but it always choked low in his throat.

How could he tell you he loved you without even knowing your name? Dick had offered his many months ago, after the first kiss you shared, pressed close in an alley and so enamoured with each other. He had breathed it against your lips, making you laugh once you realized he was serious. Dick was used to the reaction, only shaking his head and letting himself kiss you again.

He let himself lean into you now, strong arm pressing into yours. You glanced sideways at him, letting your gaze flicker down his side profile before dropping to the pile of records to his left. They towered high, you both had gone through the majority of them, and you were still unable to find the information. You let out a long exhale, grabbing the next folder and starting your scan. It seemed if some higher power was testing your patience, forcing you to rake through hundreds of papers, all covered in names and numbers and dates. It was tedious at least and down right infuriating at most. You tossed the useless file with a bit too much force once you were done with it, earning Dick’s attention. “Wanna take a break?”

“No."

"Are you sure?" He pressed, hand coming to rest over yours, fingers trying to curl into you, but you yanked it away.

“I don’t need one.” You hissed.

“I can keep looking—“

“Dick I don’t always need you to solve my problems alright? This shit is so repetitive and tiring, and I just want to get it over with.” You snapped, gathering as many files as you could fit in your arms and crossing the room. You slid down a wall and began sorting them away from Dick who only sighed in return. You didn’t exchange words for another hour, the pile you picked up dwindling when Dick walked over, letting a sheet of paper flutter into your lap. Your eyes lit up as you found it easily, his name and the sum of the funds adding up to the information you were given. You pushed yourself to stand, nearly toe to toe with Dick. And like that, all your anger dissolved, you had gotten what you wanted and could smile again.

“Thank you.” You said softly, hand coming to rest on his forearm, but Dick turned away.

“You’re welcome.” He breathed as he walked to the window, unable to stop himself from looking back at you and your half raised hand. He wanted to stay, to stop being so stubborn, but he had already let so much of himself go for you. And you bitter words, echoing the main issue with your relationship was a wicked reminder. You weren’t going to give in, not for a very long time and Dick couldn’t wait. He couldn’t spend months in love with someone who always left his bed empty. Despite what you said earlier, you were always the one to leave first.

And he couldn’t bare it anymore.

With his last words hanging in the air, Dick grappled into the night, fond he helped you, but aware it would be for the last time.

#not me using a phoebe bridgers song as my title 😳#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #dc x reader #dc imagine #writing #this is..mediocre #its also one am i’m allowed to be average

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albino-whumpee · 3 years ago

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Love

I´ve been so self indulgent during this week, thanks for your patience. I went overboard with this @whumpmasinjuly ´s prompt for day 3, “Love”. (2020)

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @twistedcaretaker @boxboysandotherwhump @unicornscotty

CW// Slavery, ´pet whumphuman trafficking, referenced conditioning and past dubcon/noncon, trauma survivors navigating relationships and recovery. Slightly Stockholm syndrome affected whumpees.

It was snowing slightly outside the supermarket. Sann had waited outside the house with his brown coat and muted blue sweater, when they came back home from work. Pushed Albus towards the snowy street to buy ingredients for dinner.

It was odd, because they had enough food for Christmas, which would be next week, but he couldn´t say no to Sann. Much less when he looked so happy going outside whenever he could. Stopping a few times to play with the snow. One of those Sann slipped and fell on his butt, making Albus jump to see if he was alright, right after he snorted and broke into laughter.

“I’ll get you some cream for it later yeah?” The freckled boy´s jeans were still a bit wet when they went inside the store. Sann patting it with a pained frown on his face.

“Hey Sann, look” Albus called when they were passing by the clothes isle. The other boy’s hand passing over the clothes like always before he turned. Sann´s face went from interested to a pout, noticing the other was holding anti-slip snow shoes with a shit eating grin. “Could´ve come handy earlier, maybe we should buy them” Sann hit his shoulder as the other snickered.

A few steps away Sann took something from the book isle and trotted back to hand him it with that bratty smile he had.

“Merry Christmas then” Sann signed when Albus pulled his eyes up, away from the “comedy for dummies” book on his hands.

“Ha, you think you´re so funny don´t you?” he said pulling him closer from his coat. “I know how to shush my favorite comedian though” he quickly inhaled before he kissed the corner of his mouth, just a little peck on the lips that left Sann looking for more as he pulled away. Just staring into each other´s eyes for a moment.

Sann gave him another quick kiss before he smiled and grabbed softly Albus´ chin. Shaking it a bit before he stepped away. “You should shush me more often” Sann signed, walking backwards to the cash registers extending his hand. Albus took it without thinking. Bringing it to his lips to give it a swift kiss.

On the way back home, it was Sann who laughed at him when he slipped on the icy floor. The little groceries they had bought, flying in the air to land on the snow. Even though, as they were holding hands, Sann fell too.

“We should have bought them!” Albus shouted as the other helped him pick up the things, giggling at the way he patted his own butt.

Walking in a bit of pain, they saw the lights flicker inside the house. Just before Albus turned to Sann shrugging, acting as if he hadn’t gone to the supermarket just to make time. Hiding his smirk from the boy as he opened the door with reddened fingers. Watching how his eyes turned from suspiciousness and wariness to shock.

It was certainly a surprise to give him a party.

He stared in awe at the “1 year” sign hanging from the ceiling with small triangular papers as Sann pushed him inside. Passed his eyes around the faces that had become his world, not a single trace of lies, of hidden intentions behind their smiles. Just genuinely happy about having him there.

Tony and Sasha bathed him in hugs and Jeremy pulled him to sit on the table with delicious food on it. None of it spicy, which he knew was even a bigger gift. As he was the only one there who didn’t love spicy food.

“Hey, I´m the mute one here, say something!” Sann signed next to him.

“I…Just don´t know what to say…Thank you is too plain” his cheeks went red, pulling his eyes back to Zarai. In a silent question, pleading for instructions.

“Don´t look at me, it was Sann´s and Sasha´s idea” The albino looked at the two with not-so-guilty grins on their faces. He suddenly felt a need to jump and hug Sasha and shower Sann in affection. Proud of him for making a party, even if it was small, it had been hard to make him feel comfortable in that setting.

“Well a thank you is more than enough” Claude said putting a cup with mulled wine on his hands, like everyone had in front of their plates. They lifted their cups, waiting for him to join. He pulled it up with just the biggest smile anyone had seen on him “Cheers!”

They stayed playing something called “guess” until very late into the night. A simple game where a player had to think of a movie, series or famous person and the others had to ask things like “is it an action movie?” “Animated?” “Are they gay or European?” to get to the answer. Obviously, Sann, Sasha and Albus weren’t really good at it, but it was a fun way to learn about the world they had forgotten. The pain of remembering, kind of soothed by the wine.

To which by the end of the party, Albus couldn’t carry himself to the room and had fell on the sofa telling Tony he was just fine, didn’t understand why he was so worried if he felt so good! Jeremy and Sann bonded over animated films (which were Sann’s favorites) and some math thing used in economics Sann always tried to explain to him but never could quite understand. But whatever concept he could wrap his head around had helped him to land a project with a great commission all by himself. He was really happy Sann had a friend outside of their circle now. How he seemed to enjoy it too leaked on to his own mood.

“Having fun?” Sasha tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He gave her a few nods with shut eyes. A wide smile had been there since the very beginning.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. Maybe even before” he told her in a daze. “Thank you Sasha”

He couldn´t believe it sometimes. How different his life had become since a year ago. If it hadn’t gone this way, he would still be in training, maybe just waking up from an endurance test, or maybe on a cold isolated cage. Hungry, alone, but safely away from other handlers. His body aching, but just desperate enough to be obedient and stay quiet behind the bars.

This honestly felt like a dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

“Your welcome, Al” she smiled at him before pulling him up “You will get used to this after a while. Trust me. It was difficult for me at the beginning too”

“Parties?”

“Freedom” the boy hummed as reply “Alex wasn’t a bad person. Just in need of some help, until they didn’t” she stayed quiet for a second, rubbing her wrist “It was scary to hide it, that someone would call and I would go back even with my papers in order and all, but. I guess, people also helped with that” she said looking at Tony. “Made it easier to trust” Albus knew for a fact they would marry someday. Maybe sometime on May, if Tony finally showed her the ring, so he smiled at the love-struck look on her eyes. “And maybe not forget, but keep going despite everything”

“I hope Sann feels like that someday too”

“And you too, Al. Someday” she said pointing to his neck, where the collar still stood. He let out some air. A heavy sigh, one he didn’t show the real weight of. Putting a vague smile instead.

“If you need help with that, give me a call. I will help you find them”

Albus frowned “Who?”

“The people who helped me. You called me once to ask me about them, but you never brought it up…You don´t remember?” she asked him when he only ket looking at her with a tighter frown.

“When did I do that?” Albus asked, but he never got his answer as his attention quickly sled to the boy walking their way with a large shy smile.

Sann walked to them with a guitar on his hand before he sat in front of him. Other people taking out their phones to catch the moment Sann signed this was his present for him. That he would find a way to get him what they saw at the store, making the albino chuckle, lifting himself up to be sit upright when Sann inhaled deeply and put his hand over the strings.

It was a soft tune, wrapping him in the warm feeling of a rhythm that carried you like a butterfly on the wind. Playfully doing tricks as it went higher. Having a rustic touch to it that made Albus imagine a valley of wheat swaying with a soft breeze. At the middle of it Sann’s fingers moved slower, low tones in quick succession that gained speed, Sann’s fingers moved swiftly down the strings. Squinting his eyes to try smoother down the migraine trying to come for him. Slightly pulling him out of the roll before he finished in a twist, a combination of the butterfly and the low tones that made him think of stone alleys and high windows.

When Sann lifted his eyes to see his reaction, He had to be quick to put the guitar away to receive him on his arms. Clapping and cheering, slightly drowning the messy praise the boy gave him. Mixed with a few curses followed of I love you. Low enough only Sann could hear them.

After a while, he was clinging to Sann on the sofa. His legs over his lap and his arms around his shoulders. Foreheads touching each other. Whispering little things as Sasha and Tony said their goodbyes from the door. Jeremy long gone after a friendly hug and congratulations were given.

Sann wasn’t a light drinker. He was perfectly fine while listening to a drunk and affectionate Albus, with a grin on his face. Nodding whenever the other asked a question. However nonsensical it was.

“You’re so nice, Sann” he said. Face warm and flushed. Eyes glassy like he was about to cry “You with me when you’re so great….” he pressed his forehead against the other. Slightly nuzzling. “I don’t know what I did to have you in my life, but whatever it was, it must have been very good” it became Sann’s turn to get flushed red. He suddenly pulled away and with a very serious face he stared into Sann’s gray eyes. “I love you”

Sann was frozen on his place. But he pulled up his hand, keeping his middle and annular down. Albus didn’t took long to imitate the sign.

It was a bet, but he leaned on. Sann closed his eyes, checking if there wasn’t a voice telling him if it was the right thing to do, and pressing a bit with a little smile when he found none. Soft lips meeting his and pulling apart in a quick inhale. He was surprised, however, when he tried the tip and was met with a bold reply. A hand on his hair and a twist in his mouth. Even then, careful to not let slip his hands to his bare neck. Delicious and at the same time amazing as he knew the person it was coming from. Despite that, it didn’t feel forced, or practiced until mastery. It was messy but engaging, it felt genuine. So when they pulled away with a pop, Sann was wide eyed at the albino.

“Is that a good shush?” He smirked, red eyes glittering under the moonlight.

“Dunno” Sann’s dimples showed on his cheeks “I need a second try” he signed before putting away his glasses. Feeling the boy’s hands pass to his back and pull him closer.

“Sann…” he suddenly went in the middle of the twist. Pulling away “thank you”

“…For what?”

“For everything. For…this” he said putting the same sign he did before. Pulling it down and sinking on the other’s chest “I hope you’re happy forever, however it may be” he said before Sann’s face pulled into a slightly confused frown and lulled him to sleep. Carrying him back to bed after a while.

In their room, Zarai slept soundly on his chest. But Claude was troubled. Ever since he had shifted jobs, he couldn’t fall asleep easily. Tonight, it was the celebration stuck on his mind. He remembered the boy’s bloody papers. So he knew the day he had arrived, was the same as his birthday.

That’s why they had made him the surprise party.

But even when Zarai had widened her eyes, even when she had found herself angry she was even more shocked to not tell him. And Claude couldn’t know if it was the right decision or not.

As he woke up with a migraine and looking overall destroyed, letting Sann prepare breakfast for all of them and feeling slightly guilty for taking a pill, but exuding a joy that couldn’t really fit on the doctor’s head. As he saw him thank Zarai for letting him rest, Claude tried to think, to believe it was for the best.

I actually based Sann´s guitar thing on this thing my dad did. You can hear it here.

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

this isn't a real mermay prompt, but if the mood strikes you: indulgent supernatural sugar daddy indrid? roleplaying that he's finally reached the limit of his patience for duck's teasing and now he's going to tie him to the bed and use him however he sees fit

Here you go! I riffed on something we discussed on the discord. CW for mentions of stripping, blood and booze, the roleplay could be read as dubcon but it's clear what they're doing and that everyone is consenting and enjoying themselves. After care is show.

“Damn, guess they ain’t kiddin when they say it’s the city that never sleeps.” Duck stares from the window of their suite onto the flashing neon and 11 pm traffic of the Las Vegas strip.

“I thought that was New York City?” Indrid looks up from where he’s laying their dinner out on the shiny black table.

“Maybe? I dunno, only ever been there once, on a trip with my folks as a kid.” Duck slides into his chair across from his grinning boyfriend. They picked up a massive spread of food earlier tonight, their friend Barclay having lots of intel on the best food in the city and the affection for them to write out a detailed list where to try.

Indrid grabs a pill from his bag on the bathroom counter, then settles across from Duck with an excited grin, “There, now I can dine without fear.”

They’re well into dessert when Indrid wipes his lips with a thoughtful hum.

“You know, sweet one, this never silent, ever bright environment lends itself well to certain activities.”

“Oh yeah?” Duck leans across the table to take his hand.

“I have more details that we can discuss while we digest, but to begin; how do you feel about dressing like the loudest man on a college campus for the night?”

---------------------------------------

Duck strides into the main floor of the Wynn, the industrial strength air conditioner practically sending him into shock after the heat of the pavement and desert air.

En route to the agreed upon Blackjack table, he makes eye contact with his reflection in a bank of windows. Only the flip flops were in his suitcase when they arrived; the mint green muscle tank and khaki shorts came from the nearest thrift store. He picked up special underwear once he and Indrid separated, suspecting it will make his boyfriend laugh. He loves making him laugh, even during their most intense scenes.

He gets his chips, his seat, and his hand within ten minutes, signaling a waiter for a screwdriver. God only knows why, but it feels like what this kind of guy would order on a Saturday afternoon. Duck’s decent at Blackjack; Juno taught him how to play and Ned helped him refine his technique. So he’s holding his own when a new player sits down two stools to his right.

“I intend to play the eccentric millionaire.”

When Indrid uttered that sentence, Duck pictured a slight variation on his usual evening wear; the suit he brings on trips just so he can take Duck out for nice meals without--as happened on one occasion-- being forced to borrow a jacket from a waiter.

He was not expecting this.

Indrid’s suit is jet black, blood-red lining flashing when he unbuttons his coat. His usual red glasses perch on his nose, and he’s done something to his hair that renders it sleek rather than it’s usual silvery tangle. His back is straight, his smile wide, and his manners pure perfection.

“May I join on the next hand?”

“One sparkling water please. Do add on a nice tip for yourself, won’t you?”

“Twenty! Oh, how delightful.”

Indrid wins more than he loses, careful to go over or come too far under enough times to avoid accusations of counting cards. Duck’s stack of chips dwindles, and he directs his frustration at this fact towards Indrid, muttering unkind things whenever the older man says, “hit me.”

When he’s down to thirty bucks, he taps out. Pushes back from the table with the huff of a man who’s used to getting what he wants. He finds the nearest bar and takes a small table for himself.

The chair across from him doesn’t stay vacant long.

“Hello.” Indrid folds his hands on the table, smiling pleasantly.

“What the fuck do you want?” Duck grumbles.

“To see if you were alright. You seemed rather upset when you left the table.”

“Ain’t upset, I’m fuckin broke. Came to vegas to get laid and get rich and I’m strikin out on both so far.”

“Perhaps I can help. I, ah, we are both here alone. Why don’t we keep each other company? Two bachelors taking on the city.” Indrid gives a very awkward “ta-dah” with his fingers.

“Dunno, I don’t really feel like slummin.”

“You won’t be. I promise.”

Duck leans back in his chair, arms crossed, “Oh yeah?”

A knife-edge enters Indrid’s smile, only to be covered by a menu, “Let me buy you lunch as proof. Order whatever you like.”

He calls the older man’s bluff by ordering a craft beer, the most expensive burger on the menu, and three appetizers, only to discover it was not, in fact, a bluff. Indrid pays for everything without so much as glancing at the prices.

“There now” he smiles at Duck as the waiter clears his leftover steak (“as rare as possible, please”), “have I proven myself a worthy companion?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Excellent” Indrid claps his hands together, “then let us see what else this town has to offer.”

While they digest they peruse the malls and casino hop wherever there are shaded routes that allow them to do so. As they’re maneuvering through the throng near the aquarium, Indrid says, “tell me a bit about yourself, Duck. Nono, wait, let me guess; southern prep school, expensive college, a family very happy to support you while you search for your place in the world?”

Duck nods (the only ways he’s able to lie during their scenes).

“I certainly hope you didn’t burn through your trust fund playing the slots.” Indrid elbows him playfully.

“Nah. Set myself a limit for what I could spend gamblin each day.”

“Clever young thing.”

“Indrid, how old do you think I am?”

“Thirty?”

“Thirty-six.”

The crowd presses them closer together as Indrid murmurs, “You don’t look it.”

“If we’re goin for personal questions, how old are you?”

“Oh, a bit older than yourself.” Indrid replies breezily, “ooh, look, rays!”

When the thermometer flashing in-between advertisements for Lady Gaga and The Osmonds cracks a hundred, Indrid ushers Duck to the indoor pool at their hotel. His new companion lounges in a reserved cabana while Duck soaks in the cool water, other swimmers floating past him or propping themselves on the edges to talk with their partners.

And every time he surfaces, he feels a red tinted gaze watching him. His new friend isn’t even trying to hide it, flat out ogles him whenever he’s in shallow water. Duck’s far from the youngest or most ripped guy here, but Indrid’s eyes never stray. It’s flattering.

It also makes sinking further into his role as easy as slipping into the deep end.

If the rich weirdo wants to buy him fancy shit because Duck is hot, he can knock himself out. It’s not like Duck has to fuck him. But teasing him might get him even more free drinks and expensive souvenirs. If he plays his cards right, he won’t pay for a single thing the rest of his trip.

He hops out of the pool, takes his time drying off and stretching before laying on his belly on the swanky deck chair, facing the opposite direction Indrid is to give the other man a better view of his ass.

“Where to next?” He tries for a purr and only succeeds at exaggerating his drawl.

Indrid’s smile widens all the same, “I have a few ideas. But let’s linger here a bit longer.”

After that he stays as close to the other man as he can, let’s their shoulders bump and fingers brush as they make the rounds for some pre-dinner drinks. He even whispers a flirtatious word or two, makes Indrid blush when he orders a drink called “silver fox,” looks him dead in the eyes and grins, “my favorite.”

He’s plenty tipsy when Indrid steers them into a hallway where bass shakes the floor and pink light disguises the cracks in the walls.

“Can’t say you’ve been to Vegas unless you’ve seen a little sin.” Is all the explanation given before the doors open on a two story strip club.

“Holy fuck.” Duck lets Indrid shepherd him to a stage where several men with abs that look painted on play at fucking the air, the stage, and each other, much to the delight of the two bachelorette parties and the single men dotting the audience.

“You’re a fuckin genius.” Duck growls, sitting when Indrid pushes down on his shoulder. The older man takes the seat to his left, watching the proceedings with polite detachment. He orders a cocktail for Duck and water for himself.

In spite of his apparent disinterest, the dancers all come to Indrid, one after the other. In theory, some of them should pass by Duck afterwards. But they all go right back to the stage or to other patrons. The few times one even looks at him, their eyes immediately slide away onto Indrid.

The fact the other man is handing out fifties and hundreds like they’re singles probably helps.

A tall brunette is currently in Indrid’s lap, and the silver-haired man whispers something and points at Duck.

Suddenly there is a very hot man in a glorified thong in his lap, who gives him a vaseline slick smile, “Your friend over there bought you a dance.”

Indrid waves, the movement grating on Ducks pride. He glares in response.

The older man calls “you looked lonely.”

“I don’t need your fuckin charity.”

Indrid cocks his head, then shrugs, “very well. Please come back here, for double the tip.” He holds up three hundred-dollar bills. The instant the dancer is out of his lap, Duck stands and stomps out, swaying more than when he came in.

The onset of evening has worsened the crowds. He slogs and weaves through them with every intention of getting back to his room, ordering room service, and bandaging his scraped ego

“Why so down, Duck?”

“Fuck! Jesus, let a guy walk in peace will you?” Duck snaps as Indrid falls into step beside him.

“We're on the strip, there's no peace here. No quiet either. Makes it easy to do what one wants.”

Cool fingers find Duck’s wrist, keeping him from breaking ahead to the crosswalk. As they stand and watch the cars and buses roar by, Indrid murmurs, “How about a little friendly game as an apology?”

“Better not be fuckin blackjack.”

“Nono, I’m thinking Poker. If you win, you win bragging rights and whatever else you like that I can give you. But if I win...you have to walk me back to my room. I’ll still buy all the drinks, of course.”

Neon glints off a fang Duck pretends not to see.

“Fuck it, sure. I'm gonna wipe the table with you, old man.”

“I look forward to it.”

In spite of Indrid making good on his promise of drinks, Duck only has one Whiskey Sour before switching to water; being full-on drunk would make him worse at Poker, something he’s complete crap at on the best days. Figures Indrid would choose a game where bluffing is key.”

His card shark of a companion is beating him, and everyone else at the table, soundly. He also declines any food or drinks for himself. After two hours of play and countless hands of defeat, Duck surrenders. Indrid preens, tips their dealer, and wishes everyone else at the table a good night.

---------------------------------------

“Why are we takin the stairs to the top floor?” Duck stares up the winding flights, unable to see their stopping point.

“It’s good for one’s health. And it’s, ah, far more private.”

“Why do you need privacy gettin to your room.”

The footsteps behind him stop as they reach the next landing.

“Simple. I'm hungry.”

Duck whirls just in time to catch Indrid as he lunges at him, fangs bared. It turns out to be a useless movement, the vampire trapping him in a corner effortlessly.

“What the fuck, fuckin let me go.” Duck hisses.

Indrid licks a fang with a thoughtful hum, “I can, though it comes with its own risks.” He sighs, put upon, “But you have been such pleasant company, I suppose it’s only fair to give you a choice. If you let me feed now, I shall be as gentle as I can be and only take a little. Or you can take your chances at outrunning me. However, should I still catch you, then I will take as much blood--and whatever else I like--as I please.” He brushes their noses together, “It’s up to you, sweet one.”

Duck takes a deep breath, the game fading while Indrid gives him time to decide how he wants to play.

Then Duck shoves Indrid away from him and bolts through the nearby door, running down the maze of corridors until he finds his salvation. Indrid’s laugh is still ringing in his ears when the elevator door finally closes.

When the ding announces his floor, he pokes his head out like a prairie dog watching for a hawk. No sign of the vampire. He comforts himself with that though, and with the fact that there’s no way Indrid could catch up to him now, as he click his keycard into the lock.

He shuts the door and reaches for the light switch.

Chilly fingers circle his wrist.

“I win.”

Duck is dragged, then carried, through the darkness, the light not clicking on until he’s tossed onto the bed. Indrid stands at his side, grinning hungrily.

“W-wait, fuck, please, I, how’d you-”

“Quiet.” Indrid tosses his jacket on the floor, straddles Duck with fangs unashamedly on display. Duck whimpers, tries to curl in and protect his throat. Indrid noses at it all the same, “don't worry you spoiled excuse for a man, it won't hurt too much.”

“‘Drid” Duck gasps, tipping his head automatically at the purr in the vampires voice.

Cool lips tenderly meet his own, “Indulge me a bit longer?’

“Hell yeah I will, sugar.” Out of habit, he guides Indrid’s glasses off and sets them out of crushing range, “Uh. Please, my dad is real fuckin wealthy, I'll pay you whatever you want?”

Indrid traces a sharp fingernail along Duck’s collarbone, “What I want is you. All those years getting what you demanded, not lifting a finger, you'll taste very rich.”

“Please don't kill me.” Duck can feel himself getting harder whenever teeth brush his skin.

The vampire cups his cheek, “Not a chance. I need to eat often, after all. And you're perfect to be my new pet. Spoiled, handsome, and no one will miss you.”

“Fuck you” Duck kicks weakly at Indrid’s ankle.

Indrid tuts, “Do I need to tie you down? I could hold you down easily, but I need my hands free to cover that sinful mouth and enjoy this lovely body while I feed.”

“N-no, no I’ll be good, I’llAAH!” His whole body tenses as fangs pierce his neck. He wants to cry out more but it’s perilous, might make him jerk away and tear the skin. But his body has to do something to release the tension, or the taught coils that replaced his muscles might snap and leave him in pieces.

He’s saved by a rush of pleasure melting every tendon, caressing every nerve into calm. Duck sinks into the bed, his body registering the suck of Indrid feeding but feeling no need to intervene. The vampires right hand creeps down to hold Duck’s left, his satisfied hum setting arousal buzzing in his chest.

Duck only realizes he’s been slowly grinding on Indrid’s slacks when the other man laughs, muffled and bloody. The vampire raises his head, lapping at the wounds so not a drop is wasted, “greedy boy. Even when you're dinner you think your pleasure deserves priority.”

“Please.” He wants his teeth in his neck forever, he wants his fingers and tongue between his legs every night.

Indrid kisses the wounds, sits up while daintily wiping his mouth with his shirt-sleeve, staining the starched white with red, “Delectable. Don't go anywhere, pet.”

“Not your fucking pet.” Wooziness pulls any teeth left in his tone, “and, and I thought you wanted me up here cause you were hungry. Now you ain’t. So, so I can go.”

“Oh no, that” he points to the marks on Duck’s neck, “was because I was hungry. The rest of tonight is happening because of your endless teasing.”

“I, uh, I don’t-” Duck turns bright pink.

“You were rather obvious. And silly me, indulging you because of your charms. Well, now it’s time to show me how grateful you are. Let me just slip into something a bit more comfortable.”

Indrid snaps his fingers. Reality gives a sickening crack. Then a mothman stands at the foot of the bed, feathers of soft browns rustling as he stretches his wings. He doesn’t have mandibles, but when he yawns it reveals rows of sharp teeth, the two where his human canines would be noticeably longer than the rest.

“Much better.”

Duck yelps, scrambles back into the headboard as Indrid dives onto the bed.

“Ah-ah” Indrid pins his arms and thighs to the bed with his four hands, “we had an agreement, little one. I get to do whatever I wish to you because you lost. And, more importantly” a long tongue drags up Duck’s cheek, “because that is how spoiled little humans earn their keep.”

“Oh god.” Is all Duck gets out before claws rip his shirt and shorts to colorful pieces. Indrid tips him sideways to finish mauling his shorts and pauses.

“What in the-” the vampire flips him onto his belly, stifles a giggle, “‘Bite me? Rather fitting underwear choice.”

“Thanks” Duck smirks into the blanket.

“Well, since I find myself incapable of denying you things, pet…” reality cracks once more.

“Wh-AHFUCK!” He yanks the nearest pillow over to muffle his cries as Indrid sinks his human fangs into the meat of Duck’s ass. It’s a different kind of pain, not as heart-pounding but just as fun. Indrid isn’t feeding, so he bites down only a few seconds before lifting his head to target another patch of skin. He doesn’t let up until Duck sobs his name into a silk pillow.

The vampire pulls back, but keeps Duck on his forearms and knees as he kisses a curve from his lower back to one of the innermost bite marks. Another shift and claws prick his legs.

“Mmmm, I can smell how turned on you are. I wonder….”

“Fuck, ohfuck” Duck pushes his hips back as Indrid’s tongue infurls down to tease his folds, “Indrid, please, please fuck me like that.”

“‘Ike ‘is?” The tongue presses in, thrusting lazily and without much pressure.

“Yes but, fuck, but more.”

A growl and Duck is slammed onto his back, Indrid looming over him with his wings outspread, “Have you forgotten the purpose of this evening?”

“No.” He stares up into red eyes, too turned on to be sheepish.

“Then why do you keep making demands? You have spent all day asking things of me and now it is time to show me why I tolerate such behavior.” He grabs Duck’s knees, holds them up and open with his lower arms, and purrs, “though there’s no denying your appeal from this angle.”

“Fuck yeah.” Duck fists the blanket in anticipation as Indrid adjusts them to put his head between the human’s legs. Indrid’s tongue caresses his dick, filling the room with slick, obscene sounds.

Then searing pain flashes through his left thigh as Indrid sinks the fangs of his form into it.

“FUCK! I, I thought, moths don’t-”

“Vampire moths do.” Indrid grins before smearing a line of red on Duck’s skin, “and I intend to drink my fill.”

Duck yelps again, slams a hand over his mouth when he remembers there’s two other suites on this floor.

“Be as loud as you like; I cast a little spell on this room to make sure no one hears what I’m doing to my new pet.” He thrusts his tongue into Duck without warning, fucking him on it until he’s bucking his hips, then pulling out to lap and suck at his thigh. When he next returns to sucking Duck’s dick, the feathers around his mouth are as red as his eyes.

Heat builds in Duck’s gut at the sight and he moans, “‘Drid, please, I’m so close to cummin just from this, please just let me cum.”

“Absolutely not.” Indrid drops his legs, dragging him into his lap with a hiss, “you have still not learned your lesson. You think you can get whatever you want just by looking sweetly at me. You’re so very wrong.” His upper arms trap Duck’s own behind his back while his lower set prick his hips, “now be a good pet and keep your legs open.”

Duck doesn’t get a chance to ask why; a cock, covered in vertical ridges with a very thick tip, shoves halfway into him.

“Mmmm, that’s lovely.” Indrid thrusts hurriedly, “now I remember why I put up with your demands all day. Spoiled though you may be, I’ve never had someone fit my cock so well. Ohhhhh” he opens his wings, grinning, “someone likes that.”

“Like you, fuck, Indrid, I swear I wasn’t, uh, wasn’t not teasing, no, fuck FUCKfuck” He takes as much as he can in one thrust, the last third still pulsing outside his body.

“Don’t lie, sweet human. I know you let me spoil you endlessly, teased me mercilessly all day, all while thinking you would spend your evening asleep and alone, rather than where you belong.”

Duck whimpers as his thighs fight to keep up the pace. They give out a moment later but nothing happens; Indrid’s grip on his hips is so strong he’s moving him without help.

“Fuck that’s so fuckin good.”

Indrid flutters his wings “You see how easily I control you, sweet one? You may be strong and handsome, but at the end of the day you’re nothing more than a toy for me to use and discard as I please.”

He whines at that, let’s himself go limp so it’s easier to hide his face in Indrid’s fluff.

“Don’t worry, pet, I shall not discard you. As I said, you are perfect for me, a lovely little gift to myself after a day spent giving them to you.” The hands restraining his arms let go and he instantly wraps them as far around the vampire as he can. Then clawed fingers gingerly stroke his dick. He groans out a thank you and Indrid laughs.

“Oh no, this isn’t for you. I just find that humans taste even better during orgasm.”

Any noise Duck makes in reply is drowned out in fluff and Indrids high, trilling moans as he sinks his teeth into his neck. Duck thrashes helplessly as his orgasm burns out his veins and muscles, leaving a melted man in its wake.

“Perfection” Indrid purrs, licking at the bite to close it as he grunts and pumps his hips, “my spoiled little human is finally worth something OHyesss, yes.” He holds a squirming Duck down on his cock as his spurts into him, the human unable to do anything but cling to him and moan his name.

A sweet voice lilts in Ducks ear, “if you ever forget what you’re for, or dare to tease me so again, I will strap you down in my lap and fill you until it sloshes.”

Duck nods to show he heard, but only gets through half the movement before wincing.

“Oh, oh dear, is the bite too big?”

“N-no, think, think it’s just real sore. You bit hard both times.”

“Let me look to be certain...yes, you’re right, the wounds are the usual size. Come, let’s get you in a bath at once.”

The next thing he knows, spindly arms lower him into the fancy jacuzzi. Indrid chirps over him, telling him how wonderful he is, how well he did, promising to fetch him anything he desires for dinner, all while bandaging the bigger marks and scrubbing blood from his chest. When the vampire is satisfied with his efforts, he takes his human form and joins Duck in the tub. The human immediately waves him into his lap and guides him into a kiss.

“Insatiable thing.” Indrid purrs, nuzzling his cheek.

“Damn right. And you love me for it.”

“That I do.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #reader requests #vampire au #monster boyfriend #terato

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

The Little Things in Life - 2

Warnings: cheating, non-consent sex (series); nothing for this chapter

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Summary: Your suburban life begins to show cracks and your next door neighbour, Steve Rogers, seems intent on shattering what’s left.

Note: Chapter 2! So I’m in between too many things. I always appreciate your guys’ patience and reading. You know how it be; I’m a mess. Thanks to everyone for their feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Based on this drabble

On Wednesday, you spent the morning working in your office with one eye on Kayla. You’d be relieved in the fall when she could go to school and you could focus a little better. Well, you’d see which you felt when the time came.

You had lunch in the backyard at her plastic picnic set and played on the slide. You checked the time as you went inside and a knock sounded at the door. Kayla followed you as you answered it. Steve greeted you with a cool smile.

“Sharon just went off to see her mother,” He said. “So I figured, we can sneak out now and grab the flowers.”

“Uh, yeah,” You waved him in as you turned to Kayla. “You wanna go for a car ride?”

“I want ice cream,” She clapped her hands.

“You want ice cream?” You asked as you knelt to fix the strap on her shoes which had twisted. “Well, if you’re good in the car, we’’ll take you by the shop. How about that?”

“I hate looking at flowers,” She crossed her arms. “They bite.”

“Only if you touch the cactuses,” You chided as you stood and grabbed your car keys from the hook and the old leather purse that sat on the low bench. “You don’t mind if I drive? Her seat’s a bit of a hassle to move around.”

“Nope,” Steve kept his foot in the door as the sunlight slatted down his tall figure. “We should have a couple of hours to beat Sharon. I really think it’ll be a nice surprise for the weekend.”

“This weekend?” You wondered. “I don’t know. We’d till have to plant everything.”

“I could toss in another bottle of wine for your trouble.” He offered.

You shook your head. He’d sent you home with what was left of the Pinot on Monday and it still sat in your fridge. Beckoning to you as you laid next to an empty space. Or worse, an indifferent Logan. His work consumed him and he often spent hours poring over it or even rushed out to appease his demanding boss. Well, you had your Saturdays and those were always nice.

“It’s fine. I’m not much of a drinker.” You said. “The helmet.”

“The helmet?” He tilted his head.

“Selfie,” You pointed your keys at him as you took Kayla’s hand. “For the extra effort.”

He shrugged as he opened the door.

“Fine,” He said. “So, you and Logan coming to the party?”

“I know I am,” You locked the door behind you. “We’ll see if Logan can keep off his phone for more than twenty minutes.”

You led Kayla to the car and Steve stood just behind you as you helped her in and strapped her into the seat. You closed the door and turned back.

“Yeah, he’s definitely been a bit… absent,” Steve commented as he went around to the passenger side. “You know, the last time he came over to watch the game, I changed it to the Orioles and he didn’t even notice.”

“It’s work,” You climbed into the car as he mirrored you. “I can’t say I don’t do the same. I’m cutting crusts off sandwiches and plotting my next lesson.”

“Multitasking,” Steve mused as he closed the door. “But I’m sure the sandwiches are still great.”

You turned the engine and looked at Kayla in the mirror. She kicked her feet impatiently in her seat as she hummed.

“There’s a little leapfrog toy in the glove compartment,” You said to Steve as you backed up. “You wanna get it for her… she’ll start singing soon if you don’t.”

🏠

Kayla chose some daisies for your front garden as you showed Steve the pansies. They were small and simple. You mixed in some freesias and some heather, too. Steve picked out a new set of garden tools to give to Sharon as well and a pair of cute floral gloves.

You paused as you checked out and glanced over at your neighbour. You couldn’t recall the last time Logan had done more than grabbed a pizza on his way home. And he always forgot that you couldn’t stomach pepperoni. Oh well, you supposed it was the gesture that counted.

You carefully loaded the tray of plastic pots into your trunk as Kayla demanded her scoop. She had behaved quite well. Steve picked her up as you crossed the street and headed for the parlor at the opposite corner. You neared a cafe only a few doors away and Steve pointed to the painted moniker on the glass.

“You know I heard that place is good. The coffee is from--” You stopped short and Steve turned to face you. “What’s up?”

You backed up and glanced at the license plate of the black Volkswagen. The same scratch on the bumper, the same numbers. You blinked and pulled out your phone. No messages. You looked to Steve.

“That’s Logan’s car but why…” Your voice trailed off and you neared the cafe window.

You peered in and searched the tables. Your husband’s dark hair was visible just towards the corner of the shop. You recognised the woman beside him. Karina, his boss. Her ginger curls were drawn back into a large bun and she turned to giggle at Logan. You could see his hand on her thigh as she stole a bite from his muffin. Your heart stopped.

“Come on, let’s just…” You blinked at Steve and his eyes were aimed through the window as Kayla tugged at his tee and whined for ice cream. “Let’s go. I could go for some mint chip.”

Steve hesitated before he turned back, careful to keep Kayla away from the cafe as you passed it.

“Mint chip? Boring.” He taunted after a moment. “What about you Kayla? You like cotton candy ice cream?”

“No, I want strawberry!” She chimed.

“Strawberry?” He reached for the door with his free hand and pulled it open. “Bleh! I’d rather a plain and very boring vanilla.”

“I like strawberry!” Kayla argued.

“How about black cherry?” Steve followed you inside. “You old lady.”

“I’m not old. I’m only four.” Kayla huffed. “You’re old!”

“I am,” He chuckled as he neared the counter.

There was only one customer ahead of you as you perused the flavours. You barely read the signs for each bucket as your head was a blur of indiscernible voices and lights. You could only see Logan and his hand in Karina’s lap. Was this why he was so obsessed with work? ‘Work?’

“Mint chip?” Steve nudged you out of your trance as the aproned server looked at you over the glass. “One or two scoops?”

“Um, actually I’ll get a scoop of the butterscotch. In a cup, please.” You found it hard to speak.

You approached the til and Steve insisted on paying. You sat against the wall and poked at your ice cream as Kayla made a mess with her cone. You did your best to keep her tidy with a napkin but she dripped enough down her shirt to drown the unicorn on its front. You reprimanded her as she refused to finish the last of the dry cone and you cleaned up the table with Steve’s help.

You crossed the street so that you didn’t pass the cafe again. You peeked over and Logan’s car was still there. You got Kayla into her seat and searched around for her tablet. You took out the headphones with bunny ears you had gotten her for her birthday.

“You wanna listen to some Wiggles?” You asked.

“Yeah,” She pulled them on and you unlocked the small tablet and put on the music player.

You handed her it and she brought up the frog game she liked to play. You ruffled her hair before you backed out and dropped into the driver’s seat. You glanced at Kayla before you pulled out. Steve was silent beside you.

“You didn’t seem very surprised... you knew?” You asked quietly. His lack of answer was telling. “Did you do this on purpose? Did you know they would be there?”

“No, I… I didn’t know they’d be there,” He said.

“But you knew… about her?” You gripped the wheel tightly.

“He told me about someone else but… he said it was a one time thing. A slip up.” Steve admitted.

“One time,” You scoffed angrily. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry.” He said softly.

“For what? You’re not my husband,” You steamed. “Unless, you’ve been helping him sneak around but I highly doubt you have the time for that when you have a newborn at home. Oh but if she’s older, it’s fine. You can get away with it, you can--”

You took a breath and hissed.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t--” You growled and hit the steering wheel. “It’s not your fault. I just… I’m so embarrassed. And you knew. You knew!”

“I thought of telling you, I just didn’t know how,” Steve said. “And if I had known they were going to be there, I wouldn’t-- Well, I’d still be a coward.”

“It’s really not your problem. Not your marriage.” You leaned closer to the windshield as you focused on the road. “Can we… can we plant the flowers tomorrow? I gotta get Kayla cleaned up and I have dishes in the sink…”

“Sure, sure,” He said. “That’s fine. I get it.”

“Does Sharon know?” You croaked.

“No.”

“Please, don’t tell her.” You gulped and glanced in the rear view as Kayla tapped the tablet. “I couldn’t-- I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“Are you going to… confront him?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” You muttered. “I don’t know if I can. I…” You looked over at him as you stopped for the sign. “Really, don’t worry about it. Please.”

🏠

You barely said a word to Logan that night. You couldn’t find any and besides you hadn’t much of a chance as your husband was just as late as ever. And when he’d finally come to bed, you waited for him to snore before you crept out.

You snatched his phone and retreated to the hallway. You sat just outside your bedroom door as you scrolled through the messages; the pictures. How had you not suspected a thing? How had you trusted him so completely?

You told yourself that time had worn on the marriage. Your sex life was strained but it would even out again. And the communication, that just needed a good talk and you would find time for that one day. But… you were wrong. It was a shell.

Your eyes teared up as you thought of Steve. He and Sharon were so perfect. They had it all. Everything you pretended to have. And he still cared for her. He wanted to make her a garden of her own. Wanted to do something for her as she spent her days taking care of their child. All you ever got was heartburn.

You took Kayla to daycare the next morning so that you didn’t have to be there to see Logan off. You drove back slowly and found yourself on that same street. You parked and strode down to the cafe. Inside, it smelled of beans and cinnamon. You ordered a latte to go and half-dozen cookies.

Your car was filled with the scent of caramel and you pulled up to your house with dread knotted in your stomach. Could you get past this? For Kayla? You opened the car door and turned to hang your legs out. You held the box of cookies on your lap and inhaled the aroma that floated from the sweet latte. You couldn’t go inside. You couldn’t face the empty house.

“Hey,” Steve frightened you as he jogged up your drive. He wore his track shorts and a tee. He glistened from his morning run. “You okay?”

You nodded and forced yourself to stand. You elbowed the door shut and set your latte on the roof of your car as you locked it.

“Cookie?” You offered the box.

“No, no, it’s a bit… early.”

“Sharon home?” You asked. “Awake?”

“She is.” He said. “I was just on my way to relieve her. My shift starts soon.”

“Oh,” You took the latte and he eyed the logo on the cup.

“Where’s Kayla?”

“Daycare,” You answered. “I thought it would be better but… it’s just lonely.”

“Come over,” He said. “Come see Sharon and the baby.”

“No, I couldn’t--”

“She’d appreciate the company,” He urged. “The adult company. I think the baby talk is driving her crazy.”

You looked across the street and then back to your house.

“Alright.” You relented. “Thanks.”

“And if we end up hitting the felt…” He kidded.

“Sure,” You rolled your eyes and followed him down the drive.

🏠

Sharon looked immaculate. She had a four month old baby in her arms and glowed like the Madonna. She greeted you with a warm smile as Steve pecked her cheek and then Sarah’s head. You slipped out of your shoes and followed her into the living room. As you sat on the sofa and set down your coffee and cookies, she handed you the baby and offered you breakfast.

You lied to her and told her you had already eaten. You looked down at the child; blond, blue-eyed, beautiful. Steve neared you as Sharon retreated to the kitchen and the sound of the blender came muffled from the doorway. You glanced up at Steve.

“You want her?” You offered.

“She likes you,” He sat next to you and waved away the offer. “She can’t stop looking at you.”

You looked down and the blue eyes shone up at you. You smiled and rocked Sarah as you leaned back against the cushion.

“I guess it’s a bit of a moot question now, but you ever thought of having another?” Steve asked.

“You always think about it.” You said. “But often think better of it.”

You looked over at him as the noise of the blender died. His eyes were much like those gazing up at you. Bright, intent. You felt almost shy as he watched you. You tore your attention from him and brought Sarah closer to your chest as she reached up with her small fingers. You cooed at her and touched her cheek.

“Here,” Sharon handed Steve a green smoothie and sat with her own. “You didn’t bring Kayla?”

“She’s at the daycare.” You explained. “She missed her friends.”

“She’s such a sweetheart,” Sharon said and her eyes drifted down to Sarah. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen ours so calm.”

“You will. I found it came in phases. Sometimes it’s non-stop, sometimes their angelic.” You mused.

Your stomach clenched as you thought of Kayla when she was that small; as you wondered how it had become all so twisted. Was it the kid? Was it you? You blinked away the dampness in your eyes and turned to hand Steve the baby. He took her and you reached for your latte. The caffeine wouldn’t help your nerves but the momentary warmth would soothe you.

🏠

On Friday, Sharon had a hair appointment so Steve came over to interrupt your paperwork. You brought Kayla with you as he set Sarah up in her plastic seat on the lawn.

He helped carry the flowers over from your garage and you set to the task of weeding and digging out spots for the new buds. You had a short time to get it done before Sharon returned.

Kayla liked Sarah. She showed her the flowers and the new doll she’d gotten from your mother. You knelt beside Steve as he took your direction and you found yourself reaching over each other, distracted only as you kept the children entertained between unpotting the plants.

There was a tension lingering. Words unsaid. You caught Steve’s glances and the pity in his tone. You dusted off your jeans and stood as you stepped back to admire your work. He watched you then and you felt like snarling at him. You could see his sympathy and it sickened you.

“Amazing,” He rose and came to stand beside you. “She’ll love it.”

“I’m sure she will,” You said.

You bent and started to stack the empty plastic planters. You piled them all into the tray and gathered up your little set of tools.

“Me and Kayla should go, it’s close to nap time and--”

“I’m not tired,” Kayla said. You looked at her sharply.

“Please, why don’t you come in and… have some lemonade before you go?” Steve said. “Just a little while.”

“I don’t know. Sharon will be--”

“Sharon always gets her nails done when she gets her highlights,” Steve assured you. “Besides, she’s not dumb enough to think I did all this by myself.”

“I like lemonade,” Kayla said and tugged on your belt loop. “Only pink.”

“Pink…” He bit his lip. “You know, I think I might have some.”

“Fine, I’ll go put this stuff away,” You said.

“I’ll get the kids inside.” He lifted Sarah from her chair and offered his hand to Kayla. “I think it’s good for Sarah to socialize.”

You nodded and quickly retreated across the street. You shoved everything in the shed and stopped as you went to replace the latch. Had it all been pity? Had Steve discovered Logan’s secret and decided to start bugging you out his own guilt? It felt entirely mocking. Worse, humiliating.

He shouldn’t be worrying about you. You snapped the locked close through the loop and spun the dial. He had a wife and kid. He needed to worry about them. Not you and your denial of your splintering marriage. You crossed the street and kicked the dirt off your boots before you entered. You unlaced them and found Kayla in the living room.

She sat in front of the TV as Sarah was sprawled out in a playpen. You checked on your daughter then followed the subtle noises of activity to the kitchen. You entered as Steve tore the top off a frozen lemonade mix. It was pink like he promised.

“I could add some vodka to yours,” He offered as he squeezed it out into a pitcher.

“Look, Steve,” You neared the other side of the island. “You don’t have to atone for what Logan is doing.”

“What?” His eye lashes flicked up as he looked at you. “You don’t think-- You know, we’re friends, right? You and me? This has nothing to do with Logan.”

“Oh no?” You challenged. “I’m not that great at pool and I hate baseball.”

“Is that all I am? A felt table and ESPN?” He asked.

“No, but, come on,” You sighed. “I don’t want to be your pity project.”

“You’re not,” He said as he added water to the pitcher. “That would be Bucky.”

You couldn’t help the snort. He returned to the island and began to whisk the mixture.

“And to be honest, it’s been a tough couple months. Pent up in here with a crying baby. I’m sure you know how it is. Talking to people who can actually answer me with more than a spit bubble is like a breath of fresh air.”

He smirked and went to grab glasses from the cupboard. He poured each and pushed one across to you as he took the other two.

“And you already said you’d come to the party so don’t even think of backing out now,” He passed you as he went to the door. “Sharon’s looking forward to it.”

#Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #the little things in life #au #fic #series #suburban au #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america

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ourneverendingpossibilities · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Sorry - (10/?)

Anime: Kuroko no Basuke Pairing: Aomine Daiki x reader Rating: K+ A/N: I went back and re-read the previous chapters. And I realize I gave myself loop-holes by accident.. (WHOOPS) I’m hoping this chapter clears a couple of them.. It’s told in Aomine’s view as well as reader’s, so I hope I did it justice.. I think there’s only going to be two or three chapters left?? I had thought of doing a mini series to this story.. With ideas I WANTED to write but didn’t go with the flow of the story.. But we will see how it pans out.. Enough of my rambling, here’s the next chapter!

_______________________________

When you walked back into Aomine's life, he remembers it was a clear blue sky.

Satsuki had been rambling on about something, school or what club she should join... He doesn't remember the vague details. He would give the occasional nod, to let her know he was listening. But honestly, his mind was only on one thing.

Basketball.

Perhaps it was a bit of wishful thinking on his part, but he was hoping you would be attending Teiko... And join the basketball team. In his heart, Aomine wishes he was able to practice with you on the courts. Aomine curses his inability to talk with you, to keep you on those courts just a little bit longer. He may have protected you from those bullies, but he couldn't muster the courage to get your number? To even ask if you would be coming back? He lets out a grunt when Satsuki nudges his stomach, and after a yawn, looks ahead.

He almost trips when he sees a hair colour similar to yours. His legs move on their own accord, and he takes the steps two at a time, trying to quash the hope bubbling in his chest. When he reaches the top step, he doesn't see you anywhere and starts to wonder if he's going crazy... There's no way you would be here... It would be a dream come true... He shakes away any hope crawling in his mind, running a hand through his hair.

"Aomine-kun?"

He looks back at his best friend, seeing the confusion in her eyes and shrugs. "It's nothing. Let's go."

He trudges forward, unaware of her studying the student lists, spotting that name she knew he was looking for.

___________________________

'You're ____-chan right?'

His breath hitches at the light tone on the other end. He was going to berate Satsuki for calling him during lunch... The words he wanted to say die when he hears your name on the other end... Whether satsuki did this intentionally or not, he doesn't know... but he remains on the line.

Silent and attentive.

'H...How do you...?'

His cheeks start to slowly burn at hearing your voice, and his palms begin to sweat... Shit, if he's not careful, he'll drop his phone and cause unwanted attention on himself... That would be too embarrassing...

"Dating?? No way!! Dai-chan is more like a brother to me! It's a pleasure to meet you _____-chan! I hope you'll help me manage the basketball team!"

Okay... He must have missed a lot of that conversation... Satsuki isn't the type to just jump to the point.. And because of what he's told her about you, he knew there was more of an interrogation.. Too bad he zoned out at the thought of you on the other end... He's such an idiot!

"I look forward to helping the basketball team!!"

And yet, his heart races at hearing your voice exclaim that... Before he could be caught, he hangs up the phone, tossing it in his pocket before burying his face in his arms... Ah.. The good news is, he has a few hours before he sees you once again to collect his thoughts... He lets out a lazy sigh, sitting up to continue with his food... But his stomach begins churning in knots, and thinks twice. He packs his lunch, kicking back in his chair as he looks out the window...

"She thinks me and Satsuki are dating...." he whispers, before letting out a soft chuckle. "Well... She'll be in for a surprise..."

____________________________

When he sees you walking into the gym, he had just finished practicing with a few of his teammates.. It takes all his energy to not run to you and throw an arm around your shoulders. He watches as Satsuki introduces you to the three males running the team, patiently waiting for it to end... He can't explain it, but seeing you for the first time in two years... Although he's taller now, you've grown as well. He hopes you've been practicing.. He's itching to play a game against you...

His patience starts to wear thin, and he grips the ball in his hand tighter until you've finished meeting them.. And it's when you take your leave does he find your name leaving his lips.

"_-_____?"

Your head whips around, and the two of you are in a trance. The gym vanishes and it's just the two of you in a completely different world. When you look him up and down, he feels a bit self-conscious, until you give him a smile, the shock vanishing from your beautiful hues. You lift a hand as if to wave at him.

"H..Hi there... Daiki-kun..."

Just like that... When his name hits his ears, it breaks the spell and his lips curl into a big grin. He doesn't see the way your cheeks heat up, or the shock in your eyes at the way he looks at you... No. He's focused on the happiness curling in his gut, exploding in his heart and his feet move on their own accord. He runs at you, swinging an arm around your shoulder as he lets the ball go, ruffling your soft locks..

"Be prepared!! I've gotten stronger!! And I want to face off against you one day!!"

He doesn't notice how your heart leaps in your chest, or the softening of your features... But he does notice the tender gaze in your eyes before that grin curls back on your lips, and a small laugh escapes your throat.

"Y...You've gotten taller, Daiki-kun... But I'll do my best to give you a good match!"

He finds himself letting go of your head, but his hand lingers on your shoulder, studying you with a soft, tender gaze. He never thought about how much taller he was.. But the smile on your lips was genuine, and real... He knew you would give it all you had, just the way you had two years ago, alone on the courts. He gently rubs your back, before letting go to grab the ball, gently passing it to you.

The shock on your face was cute, but it vanished when you realized what he wanted... You shook your head, dribbling the ball as you sized him up with your eyes. "I'll be a little rusty, I haven't really practiced in a few months... But I'll give it everything I got!"

His smile only grew bigger as he got into his defensive stance. "Show me what you can do, _____!"

_______________________________

It was just after they won their first Nationals... Aomine went looking for you... His blood was boiling beneath his skin, but he hadn't seen you all morning... He just wants to see you.. His legs carry him to the roof, and he sees you there, leaning against the railing. Your eyes were a little dull, a bit misty from a few tears, and his stomach clenches... The door closes, startling you from your thoughts.. He watches as you fluster, embarrassed to be caught in this situation, before rubbing your eyes and turning away. He carefully approaches you, keeping a safe distance away in case you want space.

"I was looking for you..." he whispers, keeping his eyes on the scenery below. His posture is a little slack, but he doesn't know what to say... He just doesn't want to see you cry.

"I'm sorry Daiki.. Did you need something?"

A soft frown curls on his lips at the timid response, and he shakes his head, ruffling his hair. "It's not important." he says, before looking at you.. "Did something happen, ____?"

He watches as your lips curl into a soft frown, before a heavy sigh leaves your lips. "I'll never be able to play beside you... Not the way Tetsu can..." you begin, a little hesitant to explain... But he wants to know what you meant by that... So he urges you with a nod, as if telling you to continue."Satsuki-chan asked the coach and Nijimura-senpai if I could play in the practice matches... Since she's seen my skills, and knows I can lead you guys to victory...:" You pause, clenching the rail. "They wouldn't allow it... Saying something about having a girl on the team would make the other teams laugh at us... Despite seeing what I can do when we play our one-on-ones..." You sigh defeated... "Teiko doesn't have a girl's team either... They decided to discontinue it this year because the men's team is strong, and they want to focus their time and energy on you guys.. On winning.."

The words spilling from your lips cause him to growl, and he shakes his head. "That's ridiculous!! You can't be on the team because you're a girl?? That's just as dumb as Tetsu not being able to play on the first string!!!" He huffs, clenching his fists. "So you're only useful to them as a manager?? I refuse to believe that!"

He doesn't notice the shock in your eyes, or the way you look up at him in wonder. He meets your gaze, determination and anger blazing within hard pools of blue. "Whether they believe that or not, you're a good player, _____. Don't stop playing just because you can't be on the team.... If you do..." he pauses, a frown on his lips..

"... I'll quit the team."

He hears the gasp, but never takes his eyes off yours. It's as if the two of you are communicating to each other silently, and you let out a soft huff, a small laugh leaving your lips.

"As if I'd let you do that, idiot..."

He blinks his eyes in shock, a frown on his lips at being called an 'idiot'. But he watches as your lips curl into a smile. "You're not giving up your spot on the team if I choose to stop playing.. That's not fair to you..." you look at the sky, rubbing the back of your head with a sigh. "Daiki... I won't stop playing... But YOU have to promise me something..."

He watches you carefully, unsure what your next words will be. But he's patient, and the frown slowly melts away.

"Don't stop playing... No matter how strong you become... Regardless if I choose to quit or not... Don't give up the sport you love... If you do..."

He holds his breath when you pause, determination blazing in your eyes.

"I won't forgive you."

The words sink in, and he has to take a step back to catch himself... He knows you're serious, but it's how you say it.. It sends shivers down his spine. He rubs the back of his head as a frown curls on his lips... He wants to keep playing with you.. He wants you by his side, regardless what happens in the future... If all you're asking of him is to continue playing, he's sure he can manage that...

At the time, it was a no brainer.

"As long as you're at my side, I won't quit. No matter how strong I become."

He finds himself startled when the smile curls on your lips, and you move to hug him, causing a blush to form on his cheeks... It's very rare for you to hug him.. At least, when you're on school grounds.. But he doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, burying his face in your hair.

"Thank you, Dai-chan..."

He curses his heart for beating fast in his chest, but his mind is focused on the warmth as he holds you close.

_______________________

It's the night before the big game.

Feh. In the end, the only one who can beat him is him. But there's a small tiny piece of hope... Crawling in the corners of his heart. He doesn't want to acknowledge the emotion, but he knows it's there... Satsuki had just came by to check on him... She knew he went to see you, but he didn't give details. He just said you were doing alright...

Not like he knew anything else.

You seemed to take the news somewhat well... Rather, you were the one comforting him as he told the story... As if he was suffering more than you. Perhaps part of it is true. He'd been living with the guilt since last year. Knowing your girlfriend's dad died at the hands of someone who was on the same team... He wasn't sure how to tell you... He still felt the guilt crawl in his gut, but when the image of you kissing him comes to mind, it vanishes almost immediately.

Aomine was still in love with you after all. You were the first person who looked at him for HIM. Not because of his status.

Because he was himself.

A part of him wonders if the reason you broke it off was because of the promise you made him years ago... There's no way you'd remember that day. Not the way he did. He wasn't going to give you up, because whether Aomine wants to admit it or not...

He still needs you.

He always has, and he always will. You are his weakness, and he finds him sighing into the bed, staring up at the ceiling...

'You still love me, _____... I'll win you back somehow.'

With that thought in mind, he finds himself drifting to sleep, dreams filled with nothing but happiness and peace.

______________________________

"______..... Oi! _______!!"

You're startled from your thoughts as you look up at Kasamatsu, seeing the worrying crease in his eyebrows. Your hands juggle the ball, and your gaze rests on it, a soft sigh leaving your lips. Gently bouncing the ball to him, you sit down on the gymnasium floor, staring at your shoes... Why were you remembering that of all things?? The match between Seirin and Touou was tomorrow night, and you decided to spend your remaining free time over at Kaijou, practicing with Ryouta and Yukio's team.. It was just the two of you now, Ryouta had to leave early for a photoshoot, and almost threatened Yukio to stay with you...

He was kicked out of the gym two seconds later.

Your eyes go to the captain, who's now sitting in front of you, a frown on his face. The expression on his face elicits the same reaction from yours, and you huff, finally finding yourself speaking.

"Daiki kissed me."

The words, barely a whisper, sound like a shout, and his eyes widen in shock.

"When?"

A sigh. "A few weeks ago... When I asked him about my father."

He frowns, rubbing the back of his head as he looks around the gym. "You love him right?? Why are you hesitating?"

You don't expect those words from his lips, but when you look at him, you can see the blush... Ah... This must be an uncomfortable topic to talk about for him.... You frown lightly, rubbing the back of your head.

"I love him... But in middle school, we made a promise... He wouldn't quit playing basketball, and I wouldn't hate him..." you hesitate, before shaking your head. "But I feel... I hate the person he's become... I... I don't deserve to love him if I can't love all of him..."

Kasamatsu's eyes go to you, and he watches your posture... He has no experience in this department, but he's not one to leave a Kouhai when they need assistance.. And although love isn't one he knows anything about, he knows you need a friend... He takes the ball from your hands carefully, playing with it for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts.

"So... You're hesitating because you can't accept the man he is now... But he didn't actually quit basketball, did he?" He pauses, watching your reaction... "Sure, he stopped practicing with his team, but he still attends games... For the most part..." He looks at the hoop, trying to keep his thoughts clear. "I don't necessarily agree with Touou's methods with team play.. But it seems to work for them, and although most don't see it... They do work as a team.... Just, not the way we or Seirin do.."

He rubs his head, taking a shot before looking at you, "I'm saying... Loving someone means compromising... And yeah, it's easier to say than do... But if you've been by his side since the whole thing went down at Teiko, why would you give up on him now, when he's starting somewhere new?"

You mechanically walk to the ball, bouncing in place from the shot.. Carefully picking it up, you focus on the smoothness, biting the bottom of your lip as you try to keep your emotions in check.

"I..." you pause, before releasing a loud sigh... "I... It's hard for me to love enough for the both of us... M...More than anything, I want to be able to play side by side with him.. But it will never happen, because I can't join the team..." you turn around, meeting his softening blue hues... "All I can do... is watch him from the side... I can just support him the best way I know how... But he needs more... He needs to be beaten, to experience loss at the sport he loves..." You look down at the ball, gently tossing it back to him..

"I have high hopes for Tetsu and Kagami-kun... If anyone can wake him up, it's them... because they're the new Light and Shadow..."

Kasamatsu grabs the ball, tilting his head to the side... "I still don't fully understand the whole "Light and Shadow" dynamic." he admits, taking another shot of the basket. "But it sounds like you need to lean on teammates as much as Aomine does... And that's not a bad thing _____..." he smiles softly. "Let us help you... You don't have to do it alone... And the more you fight us, the harder the struggle..."

You frown a little, rubbing your head bashfully as you look at the hoop. "I... I'm not good at relying on others." you admit, before releasing a sigh. "But I suppose I can try..." You turn your head back to him, smiling a little... "As long as you're okay with me being stubborn.."

He snorts, shaking his head... "Well, at least I know Kise will be in good hands when I graduate... Even if you're attending Touou..." he mutters, smiling a little. "Wait here, ____. I'll get changed and walk you to the train."

Before you can say anything, Kasamatsu has already vanished, and you release a soft sigh... What a stubborn, hot-headed man...

_____________________________

Your mom had met you at the train station, finishing up a business meeting in Kanagawa. She'd driven Kasamatsu home, despite his avid protests, and she was surprisingly quiet the whole ride home. It was when you were at a red light, you finally found the words you've been wanting to ask her since seeing the letter.

"Why did Dad want me to attend Kaijou?"

She casts you a brief glance, before humming... "We agreed, that if you chose to attend, you would be moving in with him... At the time, the business had been considering expanding, and they wanted to transfer me overseas, to work in the London office.." She hesitates, before sighing. "Part of him also thought Daiki would be attending there, though he never explicitly said why... I always thought you and Ryouta were a thing..."

You let out a huff, crossing your arms. "Hate to break it to you, but he's not my type... And his fangirls are annoying... I doubt our relationship would last based on that alone..."

She laughs, nodding. "I suppose you're right.... He can be a handful.. But so can Daiki, from what I've seen."

Your cheeks start to burn, and you try to find the words in your throat...

"D...Did you SPY on us??"

"It's not spying when I return home to see you guys cuddling outside... I didn't want to disturb you, so I went out for dinner with your father.." She shrugs. "It wasn't my business, and I'm not going to pry. Just know if you need to talk, I'm here."

It was the first time your mother had said anything like that... It's not that she wasn't reliable.. But she was busy with work, and visiting your father in the hospital... You hardly got a chance to see each other... You also kept yourself locked away during the Teiko incident, because you didn't think you could explain what was going on to her, let alone have her understand... She wasn't part of the sports world, after all...

"...Thanks mom..."

______________________________

By the time you got home, it was dark, and your eyes were begging to rest. A yawn escapes your lips, and although you had tests to study for, sleep was the healthier option. Your mind briefly drifts to the kiss, and your fingers raise up to touch your lips, heat beginning to crawl up your skin.. He was soft, tender.. Just the way he used to be... Your body finds its way to the bed, and you collapse on it, lazily kicking off your shoes.

Your heart begins to pick up, and soft tears slip down your cheeks... You knew you were in love with him... Everyone knew, and it seems like Daiki himself knew you were in love with him...

So why didn't he stay longer? Why did he kiss you so softly, holding you as if you were made of glass... He was hesitant, and that's not a word you'd ever associate with him.. Not even after the Haizaki incident... Your eyes go to the teddy bear resting above your bed, and you slowly reach out to grab it, bringing him to your chest.

It was the bear he got you for your birthday...

You move to get under the covers, and let yourself drift to sleep. You could shower, study and eat later... You just wanted to feel that warmth again, to feel comforted and safe... Every emotion you ever felt when Aomine cuddled with you..

All you wanted was to feel his love engulf you, until you were burning by his touch.

#knb imagines #knb scenarios #aomine daiki #im sorry #fluff #hurt/comfort #aomine x reader

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