Masked Romance (A Blox Cards Kingrin X reader fanfiction)

Chapter 9: Check, mate!

You couldn't fall asleep, even though Kingrin provided you with the cleanest blanket and mattress in Povvo Street. Being held at knife-point WAS pretty traumatizing. Checking the clock, you decided to go bother Kingrin.

To your mild surprise, he was watching football with a bowl of leftover hot wings in his lap. He seemed to be enjoying himself. You took a seat right next to him on the sofa.

"..."

"Oh, hey y/n, can't sleep?"

You solemnly nodded your head, and he passed you a wing, being extra sure to remove the excess sauce. "Knock yerself out, the Baseplates are gettin' the jump on those Builders." Being an old box tv, the resolution was about as eligible as the drawings of a five year old, and the speakers were so busted that Kingrin had to tape opened cans to amplify the volume. 

Despite it's flaws, it seemed the tv was well taken care of. You were considering asking him how the thing even connected to channels at all.

"Harrison? How does the tv work?"

"Oh, this thing? Funny story actually. The tv used to be broken, so we drove it to a repair shop, but we took a wrong turn to some bogus enchanter guy in the woods."

"...What's that gotta do with the tv?"

"He somehow magicked the fucking thing to work just as well as modern tvs. We ain't complaining though." And that's when you realized the tv wasn't hooked into an outlet. You stopped being curious.

Munching on the chicken wing gave you some solace from the events that transpired earlier. You gradually enjoyed being in the presence of Kingrin more and more as the muffled sounds of football drowned out any bad thoughts you had. Suddenly, the tv turned off.

"Ah crap, seems signal's out again." Kingrin got up from the couch and slapped the tv a number of times. When that didn't work, he moved the antennae around. It only yielded static.

"Well cripes. What do ye reckon we do now?"

"Perhaps... a board game might help us pass the time?"

He rummaged through some boxes in a corner of the room, which resulted in the appearance of a chessboard and a monopoly board. "Ye can pick, alright?"

After carefully weighting the pros and cons, you eventually went with chess. Kingrin laid out all the pieces, some of which were missing, and had to be replaced with other things. A white rook was a bullet, a black pawn was a cork, and a lego minifigure took the place of a bishop.

Kingrin let you take white, so you moved a pawn.

"I'll have ye know I was one o' the best chess players in me secondary school, and I've still got the spark in me." He opened with a pawn as well. You weren't the best at chess, but you knew enough to have an idea of what you were doing. After 10 minutes, you were down 3 pawns, 1 knight, and possibly blundered a rook. Kingrin lost 2 pawns, a bishop, and sacrificed his knight to take yours out.

"Ye've got style, y/n. Haven't had t' think this hard in a while." He moved the queen. You responded by blocking it with a pawn.

"Blimey, you're good."

"T-thanks."

"Where'd ye learn all this?"

"My older brother would teach me. I guess it just stuck until now."

He nodded solemnly, and after a few more minutes, both of you were down to the bare minimum. You did the king dance, and Kingrin finally put you in a corner.

"Check, mate."

"But I can still move..."

"You know what I meant you twat."

After blundering a couple more times, you finally admit defeat. You shook hands with Kingrin, and put the chess set away.

"Hey, thanks for playin' wit' me. None o' the other smileys know how t' make moves correctly."

You gave him a thumbs up and smiled. He also gave a small grin, and ruffled your hair. You couldn't help but blush.

All of a sudden, you heard a commotion outside. What could've possibly riled up the smilies? It was 4 in the morning! You poked your head out the window. A small crowd had gathered around an unknown figure.

"Scuse me, fellas! Sorry!" You made your way through the rugged audience and looked at who they were fixated on. It was the astral faith priest, Charles Ramsworth. The same one who gave you his business card. He wore a white top hat that had the initials "A.F.P" embroidered in it. He donned a white tuxedo with a badge on his heart, and wore expensive pants and dress shoes. You wondered if he actually afforded the fit, or just stole the getup.

"...and so many other benefits! You can be immortal, guaranteed! Just follow me to the church, and you can get your own slice of eternal life!"

"I'm telling you now, old man. Nobody here's interested in your yapping. Now you can either get your pricey ass outta Povvo Street, or we'll make you." A smiley member spoke. The others began to chant alongside him. Some even booed the priest.

Charles chuckled to himself. "Well, you sure are a tough bunch." As he strutted out of Povvo Street, his guards accompanied him.

"Oh, that guy. Huh." You said to yourself.

"You know that nut?" A smiley asked you. "Yea, his name's Charles. He tried to indoctrinate me into being a member of his weird cult as well."

"Well, let em know he ain't welcome back 'ere, ever."

You nodded, and made your way back to Kingrin's house. The smilies began to disperse.

He was sipping tea on an armchair when you walked into the room. "So... what was all that 'bout?" You explained that an astral faith priest tried to advertise joining the religion. He nearly spat out his tea.

"Those guys never learn, don't they... Well, if youse wanna go back t' bed, I ain't stoppin ya."

You didn't even need a sign of approval before you flopped onto the bed, and began to snore logs. As you drifted off to sleep, you heard Kingrin get in bed with you. He wrapped one of his burly arms around your body.

"Sleep tight, y/n."