Magnuscarlsen Stories

Magnus Carlsen and Hikaru Nakamura falling in love/being in love in different idiotic ways.

Time seem to larp around nothing as Hikaru waited anxiously, his knees bouncing under his palms which were growing sweaty by the minute. He knew it was pointless, any choice he had led to the same outcome he dreaded. The marriage was corrupt, he told himself for the hundredth time that day. It was a contract, nothing but a paper signed with their names, declaring a relationship that neither of them wanted. Magnus Carlsen was as smug as ever, leaning back in his chair with the calm of a man who knew he had everything under his control, and it only served to agitate Hikaru further. What was this about to lead to? Why did he have to agree to this, and why on promises of heaven and earth had it have to be Magnus Carlsen?

The Candidates Tournament is a pressure cooker. Magnus is only there as a guest commentator, but that doesn't mean he's not watching Hikaru -watching the way he's matured, how he plays like he doesn't care, how he stares straight through him like the past doesn't matter. Magnus has always been bad at pretending. After one particularly charged post-match analysis, the façade finally collapses. Sometimes the real endgame isn't on the board. crossposted on ao3 as ReadNowSleepLater

Always. I watch you, Hikaru, and well, they watch me. I've always felt like I've had an audience following me like paparazzi flashing photos for daily magazines. The fans love me. But it's not the same. My mind; it's a diverse one. Almost shallow. I think back to that night. (The luckiest night of my life.) It has me wondering that you're actually really shy, but you choose to hide it. You think being boisterous and busy fixes things. I know that you hate being the center of attention, but you crave relevancy. You dwell in the past. We have that in common. At once, you've hated me, so why make it so easy for me to touch? It's not like we really know each other. You practically invited me into your arms with ease as if you actually did belong there, and if, it wasn't for my misplaced sense of self-righteousness; I should be the one to remind you that you don't. You fear women, but you're also a textbook mother's boy. The down to earth type is you, and if it weren't for your family's obsessive customary beliefs in how your perfect world should be, I'd be willing to bet you wouldn't be looking away from me yet again for the second time in less than five minutes.

Because there's very little that Hikaru and Magnus wouldn't do for money. OR the much-needed fake dating crack fic + healthy dose of sns!au that no one really asked for, but i delivered anyway. Disclaimer: all the tweets shown are fake!

A decade ago, Hikaru decided to compete in Norway Chess to get over his ex. A decade later, he comes back, trying to get over a different ex. In which God put the same person back in your path to see if you are foolish enough to take them back into your life. And Hikaru might just be the dumbest person alive. Photo credit: Photochess on Instagram

The unfathomable story of Magnus Carlsen and Hikaru Nakamura. It seemed unlikely- no no, impossible, for this pair to be anything other than rivals. But as they begin to run into each other more often and spending time together seems inevitable, who knows what could happen? A/N I know absolutely nothing about chess and this story is based on their characters and that only. Just something I wrote for the fun of it and not to be taken too seriously! Enjoy :]