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noladyme · 3 years ago

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Chess II - Chapter 8

Out of the clutches of Waller, and out of the once loving arms of Rick, Chess is back to her old ways. What the hell else is she supposed to do? A text-message from an old friend brings her back in to it though, and secrets – both her own and Rick’s – forces her to deal with the most difficult opponent she’s ever had to face. The man who made her.

This is the second story about Chess and Rick Flag. I recommend you read the original story here, before getting in to this one; both for history on their relationship, and for context.

This story is non-canon. Remember to comment 😊

TW: angst, fluff, violence, ptsd, smut

Chapter 8

“Turn left in two miles”. Rick grunted nonsensically at the electronic voice. “This car cannot be American!”, Peacemaker said from behind us. “It talks!”. “It’s just the gps”, I sighed. “Whatever. I say turn right. It’s probably trying to trick us”, Peacemaker declared. “The car isn’t trying to trick us. It’s trying to get us to our destination”, I said. “Which is, where again?”, DuBois asked. I sighed heavily, and turned in my seat so I could look at him. “We need to go see the prince. Ask him the ins and outs of Hatter’s operation”, I said. “I thought we had you for that”, Harley said. “Yeah, but he might have new information. And we need to know how he escaped”, Rick said. “What’s the plan, boss?”, DuBois said. “Don’t call me that. We’re all on the run here. I’m fucking awol from my post. I’m screwed as much as the next person in this van”.

Nanaue raised his giant hand. “Yeah, buddy?”, I asked. “Snacks gone. Eat prince?”. Cleo – seated next to Digger, the two of them not having let go of each other since their kiss – looked at the shark. “You can’t eat the prince, Nanaue”, she smiled. “When we get to the ambassador’s place, you can’t kill anyone… or eat them”, Rick said. “We’re already in enough trouble. We’re only there for information”. “But hungry…”, Nanaue said, his tone slightly warning at this point.

“You can eat bad guys", Cleo said. The shark looked confused. “You can usually tell the difference on what they’re wearing”, Digger said. “If they got on a uniform, they’re probably the good guys. Like police, or guards… shit like that”. Nanaue seemed to slump together in something resembling sadness. “Guards at aquarium throw things. Call Nanaue freak. Guards at prison yell and shoot. Make sad me”. His tone made my eyes water. “Not all good guys are good”, Bloodsport said, an edge to his voice. I agreed with him. I remembered how I’d been treated the first time I’d been brought to Belle Reve, and been at the mercy of the good guys there – how I’d spent days in a dark cell, treated to cat-food, and Griggs' wandering hands and eyes. It made me wonder if there was really such a thing as a good guy.

Then I looked at Rick. The good in him almost glowed through his eyes, but not in the way it had from the men and the woman I’d just seen at Wayne Manor. He was an actual good guy, not because people had decided he was, or because he wore a uniform. I was overwhelmed at how just a day ago, I’d been so angry with him; and now he’d dug himself so deep into my heart again, that I was sure he’d never leave it. Maybe he never had left. We’d had a bad break, but Rick loved me. Sure, he’d done a shitty thing, by bringing me back to Belle Reve – drugging me wasn’t his finest moment – but he’d done it for his dad. He’d always do his best to do, if not the goodthing, then at least the right thing. I could trust him.

I must have had a strange expression on my face, because Rick turned his face to look at me. “What?”, he asked. I felt my cheeks flush from having been caught starring. “I can trust you”, I said quietly. He frowned, and sat up a little straighter; snapping his head back to face the road ahead. “Of course you can. Why would you ask that?”. “I wasn’t asking… just saying”, I said, a little taken aback by his reaction. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, and grabbed my hand. “Sorry. This whole situation is just really stressful”, he said. “No, I get it…”, I said; not sure if I actually did.

We shot each other awkward smiles, when suddenly Harley’s head popped up between us. “What’ya talking about?”, she asked. “Nothing”, I said. “What’s up?”. “Peacemaker’s gassy”, she said, theatrically gagging. “Am not!”, Peacemaker roared from the back. Harley rolled her eyes. “Do you want to switch seats?”, I asked; feeling Rick’s hand twitch in mine. “Nah, wouldn’t wanna split up the lovebirds”, Harley giggled teasingly. “But when are we there yet?” Rick turned a corner, and the electronic voice spoke again. “Destination in one mile”. “Oh! Thanks, car”, Harley smiled, and reached forward and patted the dashboard friendlily; before going back to her seat.

As Rick pulled up in an alley, down the street from the large, luxurious townhouse, where the ambassadors family lived, Peacemaker cocked his gun. “Ok. Here’s the plan. I’m going to go in there, make my way through any guards, get the prince, and bring him back here to the van. Then we’ll drive him off, and interrogate him”. “Woah! Easy now. We’re not here to do another kidnapping!”, Rick said. “I’ll go in. If we’re lucky, I haven’t been reported yet, and I can still use my military id. Chess goes with me; and the rest of you… Just don’t blow up the car”. “You just said you’re not our boss”, Peacemaker said with childish indignance. “Please don’t leave us here with him”, Abner pleaded meekly. “We’ve been just sitting around forever. Give us a job”, Digger said; and looked at Peacemaker. “At least get him out of the car. It’s getting rancid in here”. “I am not gassy!”, Peacemaker roared.

Weasel let out an earsplitting shriek, and we all stared at him with wide eyes. “The werewolf is right”, Harley said. “What?”, Rick grunted. “We all need to pitch in here. Keeping us cooped up in here, while you two go hang out with some prince, isn’t necessarily going to get us anywhere with those other kids”. She looked around at the others, before looking meaningfully at Rick again. “We all got contacts in the city. Let us go figure out what we can from them”. Rick frowned deeply at her words. “Come on, mate… When have I ever done anything that would make you not trust me?”, Digger said. “How many times have you tried to escape Belle Reve? You andHarley”, Rick said, distrust painted all over his face. “Only once…! Together, anyway”, Harley shrugged. “Oh, yeah. That was a fun one!”, Digger laughed. “Remember that one guard, with the lazy eye? I can’t believe we pulled that of, actually. I’m…”. He caught on to Ricks expression, and cleared his throat. “Sorry…”. “We all got a timebomb in the back of our necks, Flag”, DuBois said. “There’s not a chance in hell Waller will let any of us get away with this, if we don’t actually do something good with the time we have – even if we do, she might kill us… We have every incitement in the world to do the right thing, right now; if we want to keep our heads”.

Rick ran a hand down his face, and groaned in defeat. “Ok… Everyone go get info from wherever it is you can. We’ll meet here in three hours. Nanaue, that’s when the big hand is on twelve, and the small hand is… Actually, you just go with Cleo. You can keep an eye on him, right?”. Cleo opened the door of the van, and pulled at the shark’s arm to follow her. “Of course. We’ll go check with some of Sebastian’s cousins”. Digger almost jumped from his seat. “I’m with them. Catch you later!”. He sprang from the van to join the two others, before anyone had a chance to protest. “I’ll go catch up with some birds I know”, Harley said, and went to get out of the van as well. “I wonder if that cop still has my Kevlar bra…”.

Bloodsport patted Krill’s shoulder. “You’re with me. There’s a mercenary speakeasy in Downtown we can hit. Maybe we can catch a drink, while we’re at it”. Abner’s eyes lit up. “You wanna go with me?”, he asked. “Of course. You have good taste in liquor. I saw you mixing cocktails at Sammy’s. Let’s go”. The two men climbed out of the van together. Rick and I looked at Peacemaker, who sat with a glum expression. “I don’t have any connections… or friends”, he muttered. Weasel let out a shrill wheeze; and the muscled man rolled his eyes. “Fine… but you’re paying”. The creature and the bonehead left the van, and slammed the door behind them.

Rick and I locked eyes, and nodded at each other, before getting out of the van; and we began walking towards the townhouse.

---

“I think I should go in smiling”, I said, as we walked down the sidewalk. “Why?”, Rick asked. “Because we’re about to go visit an ambassador; and while you look like GI Joe, with an honest purpose I look like I just stepped out of a teenage boy’s wet dream”, I said, pulling my jacket a bit more closed over my see-through mesh top. “Well, we are going to see a teenager”. He looked down at me from the corner of his eye, and smirked. “I wish I’d dreamt up something as hot as you, when I was a teenager”. My cheeks flushed, and I bumped him with my shoulder, to get him to stop. Rick moved his hand down behind me, and put it on my hip; giving it a squeeze. “I’m serious, Kitten. I’m finding it hard to focus right now”. “Well, focus anyway. We got work to do”, I said; before catching myself, halting, and getting on my toes to peck at his cheek. Rick turned his head quickly, and caught my lips with his own; making my knees weak from his kiss. Only the rumbling sound of thunder made us pull apart, and hurry on our way.

Just before reaching the front steps, I looked down at my chest out of habit. When I saw that the light on my harness was still green, I smiled at Rick, and shrugged. “Well, that’s already taken care of”, I said. “Yeah”, Rick said, apparently having forgotten all about my harness as well. He chuckled almost nervously, and I took his hand. “We’ll be fine. Nothing to be nervous about”. “No, you’re right”, he said. I looked around to make sure no one was watching, gave him one last, short kiss, and smiled. As I disappeared, Rick’s expression grew pained. “I’m still here”, I whispered. He nodded shortly, squeezed my invisible hand; and walked the last few yards towards the townhouse.

Two uniformed police officers stood posted by the front door, as we walked up the stairs. Rick pulled out his military-id, and showed it to them. “Colonel Rick Flag. Official business”, he said, using his most authoritative voice. It was kind of hot, and I fought the urge to pinch his butt; this wasn’t the time. “What business?”, one of the officers asked. “Government top priority”, Rick said quietly, as if to avoid any passersby from hearing. “We’re trying to get a clearer picture of what happened to the young man when he was taken; so that we can avoid any similar situations in the future”. The other cop let out a scoffing laugh. “Good luck, man. The princess is keeping the kid under serious lockdown. Even more than usual”. “The princess?”, Rick said. “Yeah… The ambassador’s wife. She’s the Markovian king’s sister”, the first officer said. “Of course…”, Rick said. “Well, I’d still like to try”. “Go ahead, colonel. We’ve been stuck out here ever since the prince returned. They don’t want us in the house”.

The two cops went down to the bottom of the stairs, and Rick rang the doorbell. A few moments later, a man dressed in a suit, vest and tie opened the door. He looked every bit the butler Mr. Alfred Pennyworth didn’t, in his much more relaxed attired. Next to each other, the two men would have been day and night; tuxedo and tweed. “May I help you?”, the butler asked. “I’m colonel Rick Flag. Can I speak to the ambassador or his wife, please?”, Rick asked. “The ambassador is on business in the capital, and her royal highness is disinclined to receive guests”, the butler replied. I began to move up next to Rick, to slip past the butler inside, but felt Rick grab on to me. He must have felt me brush by him. “I understand that the last week has been very trying, but I’m here to try to understand the incident better; and figure out how the American government can avoid something like this from happening in the future”. “Irons? Who is at the door?”, a voice chimed from inside. “The authorities, ma’am. They wish to speak of the… episode”, the butler replied. “Send them away. We have nothing to share”. Rick raised his voice to reach the woman inside. “Your highness. I’m a colonel with the American Secret Service”. “Which colonel? Cavill? Affleck?”. “Flag, ma’am. Rick Flag”. There was a long pause, where the butler simply starred at Rick. I was yearning to just sneak inside, and just about to ignore Rick’s firm hand on my wrist and pry it off, when the woman spoke again. “Irons, come in here”. “Yes, madam”. The butler slammed the door in Rick’s face. “What’s happening...? Should we stay?”, I whispered. “He didn’t ask us to leave”, Rick muttered quietly. I tugged at his sleeve. “Hey, is the task force really secret service?”, I asked. “Well, we’re secret…”, he replied.

After a few long moments, the door opened, and the butler greeted Rick again, this time with an overbearing smile. “Right this way, colonel”. We followed the butler into the house. I stayed close behind Rick, trying to make myself as small as possible, to not be made. It wasn’t the first time I’d been invisible inside a rich person’s house, but it was the first time I’d done it with Rick, and I admittedly wanted to impress him. We walked down a hallway, and ended up at a double door. A flag – Markovian, I figured – stood by the doors, making the grand house seem very official. The butler opened the door, and we stepped into a living room right out of an interior designer’s dream. A somber looking middle-aged woman, dressed in a tailored suit, stood in front of the fireplace. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Rick.

“Her royal highness, princess Valeria of Markovia”, the butler said, before turning towards Rick. “Colonel Flag”. “You are not colonel Flag”, the princess said matter-of-factly. Rick looked taken aback. “Yes, ma’am. I am”. “You will address me your royal highness…”, she said. “And you’re not. Colonel Rick Flag would be in his seventies by now”. I saw Rick’s face go white, and quietly stepped up behind him; putting my hand on his back, to let him know I was there. “Ma… Your highness… You may be thinking of my father. Colonel Rick Flag sr.”, he said. “My father left the service a little over ten years ago”. “Your father… He has a scar…”, the woman said. “Bellow his left eye. He got it in Bulgravia, on a mission there”. The woman swallowed thickly, and sat down in one of the big chairs by the fireplace. “Leave us”, she said to the butler. She gestured towards the couch. “Please have a seat, colonel”.

Rick sat down, and leaned his elbows on his knees, clearly uncomfortable. I quietly made my way around the room, to check for security, and potential exits if we needed to get out quickly. “I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of time”, Rick said. “You were the one to come here in need of something. Don’t rush”, the princess said. “You’re right. I’m sorry…”, Rick smiled uncomfortably. “It’s just… My superiors are trying to get a better picture of what happened to your son…”. Her eyes flickered. “He was taken. He came back. End of story”, she said. “Tell me more of your father. You say he’s resigned. Is he well?”. “No… yes. He’s alive. Some health issues, but he’s being looked after”, Rick said. “That doesn’t sound good. Is there…”. “I’m sorry, your highness. I know I came here out of the blue, but time really is of the essence here”. Rick gave her a stern look. “I’m here to try to stop the man who took your son from doing the same again. To him, or anyone else”. The woman frowned. “Well, I…”.

“Mom, I’m going out”. A lanky but good-looking teenager, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, had entered the room. I recognized the prince from the picture I’d seen in the file, in Belle Reve. “You’re going anywhere!”, the princess exclaimed. “No more of that. Go to your room, and finish your studies”. “But…”, the teenager said. “But nothing, Gregor. Upstairs!”. Rick got on his feet and began approaching the kid. “Gregor? Prince Gregor…”, he said. The teenager groaned as if embarrassed. “Colonel, my son has nothing to say to you”, the princess said. She got up and stormed over to the teen, and almost pushing him out the door. I grabbed Rick’s sleeve again. “Just keep her talking. Give me some time”, I whispered in his ear. He gave me a quiet hmm in response.

“Your highness, I’m sorry”, he said, as she turned around. “Sometimes my job makes me a bit…”. “Brutish? Impolite?”, the princess said coldly. “Yeah. Both of those”, Rick nodded. “I understand that you’ve gone through some serious trauma from losing your son like that, and if you don’t want me to speak with him, I completely respect that. But… if there’s anything you can tell me yourself; like what happened the day he disappeared, and if he said anything when he returned… We’d be able to save other kids from this mad-man”. The princess stood for a moment, as if deep in thought. “It was traumatic indeed… and I’ll tell you whatever I know; if only to avoid other mothers having to go through the same pain, of not knowing if their child is alive or… My son was very brave that day”. In a very dramatic gesture, she turned away for a moment, as if gathering herself. “Please sit”. Rick did as he was asked. “The day the prince didn’t come home, did anything out of the ordinary happen…?”.

I didn’t hear the princess’ response. I was already making my way out of the room, following the teenage boy upstairs.

---

I followed the sound of loud music, and the smell of AXE-body spray, down a carpeted hallway. The door to the kid’s room was slightly ajar, and I slipped inside. He was seated in front of a computer, playing a game; a headset covering his ears. He was speaking to someone through the mic. “Nah, man. I can’t. She’s been psycho ever since I got home… Yeah, I would, but the window’s got like extra sensors on them these days. If I open one, an alarm will go off”. You go, tiger-mom, I thought to myself.

As limberly as I could, I made my way through stacks of laundry, and piles of dirty dishes. I went up behind the kid, put one hand over his mouth, and pulled off his headset. “Don’t scream. I’m not here to hurt you, or take you away again”, I whispered. “Say goodbye”. The kid nodded, and I let go of him. He put the mic to his mouth. “Gotta go. Call you later”, he croaked.

The prince swirled around his chair, and looked at where I was standing; a completely confused expression on his face. I looked down at myself, and realized I was still invisible. “Oh, right. Sorry”, I said, and reappeared. The kid almost fell off his chair. “Dude!”, he exclaimed. “Not really”, I said. “I’m Chess”. “Hey…”, he replied, drawing out the word. “I’m boobs… I mean Gregor… Greg… G”. “Hi, G”, I smiled. “I do indeed have boobs. But could you maybe focus on my eyes?”.

He cleared his throat, and moved his eyes upwards, meeting mine. “You were just invisible”, he said. “Right? I’m not crazy. I mean, I haven’t even touched drugs since like two days ago, so it can’t be a hallucination”. “Yeah, I was just invisible. It’s this thing I do”, I said. “But that’s not why I’m here”. “Cool. No. Totally… Uhm, do you wanna sit down?”. He gestured towards his bed; which was almost sunken completely into the floor, under the weight of dirty laundry. “Nah, I’m good”, I said. “I wanna talk to you about what happened when you were away”. Gregor’s eyes flickered. “Why?”, he asked. “Are you, like, the police?”. I almost guffawed in laughter. “Look at me. Do I look like a cop?”, I asked. “Not really… But then, why do you wanna know?”. I sighed deeply, and gave him my most pleading eyes. “Because of the other kids… The ones he still has”. Gregor swallowed thickly, and looked down at his feet. “I don’t wanna talk about it”, he muttered. “I know… Because what happened to you when you were with him, was probably the worst thing you’ve ever experienced. Trust me, I know”. The kid’s eyes flew up to meet mine again. “Know what?”, he asked. “About what he does… How he messes with your head; makes you do things… I know, because it happened to me; years ago. He took me, and hurt me… And made me hurt other people… I went through hell; and you did too”. “Yeah…”. He frowned a bit. “I guess”.

I crouched down, and took his hands. “I get it. Thinking about that stuff… it’s the worst thing in the world. If you don’t wanna tell me, I understand; and you don’t have to… But please; tell me how you escaped. I just want to know, so I can get in there, and get those other kids out!”. “I can’t help you”, he said quietly, looking almost ashamed. “Anything, G. Like, what did the room he held you in look like? Which door did you use to escape? Did you see any guards?”. “I can’t tell you anything, because I wasn’t kidnapped”, Gregor said, finally meeting my eyes. “You… what?”, I croaked. Gregor leaned back, and pulled his hands from mine – it was possible I was squeezing them a bit hard. I got back up to stand, and backed away from him slowly. “Then… what happened?”.

Gregor leaned back in his seat, and began fiddling absentmindedly with the chord to his headset. “No one took me... A couple of weeks ago, my mom freaked out ‘cuz I got arrested with some blow on me. She told me she was sick of me disappointing her all the time; not living up to the family name. Said I needed to go away for a while, stay at a friend’s place, and then come back with a story of being kidnapped, and escaping”. “But you didn’t escape. Not really…”, I said, struggling to keep my voice leveled. “No. I stayed at this house, with this weird guy. Called himself Mr. Hatter… It was kind of sweet, really. He had some shrooms, and I just hung out for about a week”. “And then he just let you go?”, I asked. Gregor nodded. “My mom paid him to make it look like I was taken; and then, when the week was over, I just walked out of there. She thought it would look good, if the story was that I escaped. You’ve done nothing else worthwhile. With this, at least you’ll have one courageous story in the history-books” He rolled his eyes, as he mimicked his mother. I kicked a chair overburdened with comic-books; making it hit the wall. “Fuck!”, I roared. I simply couldn’t help myself. “Someone like you really shouldn’t be king of anything!”. “You’re telling me! I’ve been trying to avoid that shit like the plague…”, Gregor said. “Look, I’m sorry. Really…”.

I clenched my fingers, trying desperately to keep from shooting out my claws. “G… Did you see any other kids there…? Anyone being mistreated, abused… maybe in cages?”, I asked as calmly as I could. “I don’t remember a lot, those shrooms he gave me, were pretty gnarly…”. He must have caught on to my desperate expression, because he seemed to want to help. “Maybe I saw a couple of kids around. It was like this constant, weird party; with tea, scones and drugs…”. He narrowed his eyes, and looked off in the distance. “Yeah, there were some kids there once in a while. But they seemed just as out of it as me; maybe even more. He’d tell them to do weird stuff, like sing or dance; and they’d just do it… But that’s all I remember, I swear”. “Did he have any guards around?”, I asked. “Maybe… I mean, someone had to be bringing in the tea…”. He looked like he was about to puke. “Fuck, I hate tea”. I let out a frustrated laugh in agreement. “You and me both, kid”, I said. “Shit… You really don’t remember anything, huh…?”. “No… Just his eyes; I really didn’t like looking him in the eyes. And his weird top hat… And he rhymed, constantly! Creepy as fuck”.

I sighed in defeat. “I wish I could say thank you, but I’m a bit too pissed right now to mean it”. “I accept that”, Gregor muttered. “I really wish I could help you… Are those kids really in trouble?”. “Yeah”, I nodded. “They really are”. Gregor frowned, “There’s one thing… The door I left through. It worked with voice recognition; I think. When it was time for me to go home, he walked me downstairs, and went up to this terminal-thing. Pulled out an old recorder, and played this song”. “What song?”, I asked. “It was this girl; just her voice singing a kids song”. I felt my hands beginning to shake. “What song?”, I breathed. He closed his eyes, as if trying to remember. “Uhm… I’m… I’m a little teapot, short and stout. This is my handle…”. “… this is my spout. When I get all steamed up, hear me shout: Tip me over and pour me out…”, I finished the song. Gregor smiled at me. “Yeah. That’s it”, he said. “It’s funny, you kind of sound like the girl in the recording”.

It was like a punch to the chest; and I swallowed bile. Finding it hard to breathe, I turned around, and walked towards the door. “Thanks… Bye”, I rasped. “Hey, wait! Did I help?”, Gregor called after me. “Yeah… I… have to go”. I smiled, disappeared from view, and ran down the hallways, away from the room.

I made my way to the living room, where Rick was still seated. His face was white, and he looked as if he’d seen a ghost. Without announcing myself, I reappeared in front of him and the princess. “We got all we can out of these people”, I said coldly, before turning to look at the flabbergasted princess. “You are some piece of work, lady. Letting your son pretend he was kidnapped, so he’d get the reputation of a badass…”. Rick frowned confusedly. The princess looked at me with wide, rageful eyes. “What is this? You come in to my house… invisible, like some freak! And then you accuse me of…”, the princess began. “You used the disappearance of innocent kids to make sure your son would go down in history as a hero, who saved himself from a mad man; probably not even giving a shit about them, because they’re lower class… You didn’t even make an effort to get them out with Gregor”. “How dare you! I host a banquet every year, to support lower income families”, the princess hissed. “And I treat my staff with all due respect. You can ask your friend here about that!”.

Probably recognizing the look on my face, Rick got on his feet, and went to stand between me and the now fuming woman. He held out his hands, ready to stop me if I decided to jump at her. “Y/N, calm down…”, he tried. “Kids are being hurt, and you used that to your own advantage”, I growled. “Not only that; you risked your son’s life, by putting him in the hands of a maniac!”. “Mr. Hatter would never hurt Gregor. I paid him good money…”. “I’m sure you did. That’s all that matters, right? Money and reputation. If you’d just get your head out of your ass for a moment, you’d see that you have a son upstairs, who doesn’t want a thing to do with being any sort of royalty or ruler… He’s numbing himself with drugs, because he can’t deal with the pressure, you’re putting him under. Take off the crown, and be a mom!”. The princess stood up, and pointed a manicured finger at us. “Colonel… Out of the respect I hold for your father, I will let you leave this place, without calling the real authorities” “What about…?”, Rick began. “I’ll keep my promise”, she said. “Now, get out”. “Up yours, princess!”, I said, grabbed Rick’s hand, and dragged him out of the room.

I disappeared from view just in time to not be seen by the cops outside. Rick must have looked funny, as he almost ran down the streets; pulled by the arm by some unknown force. “Y/N, stop…”, he said. I ignored his words, and kept walking. Rick pulled at my hand, and made me follow him in to a dark doorway. He grabbed my shoulders, and my mirage dropped. “Stop!”. “They lied, Rick! Hatter didn’t take the prince. They just said he did because… Fuck! You know what? I changed my mind. I’m going back there, and I’m gonna punch that royal cunt right in her designer nose!”.

Rick pulled me in to his arms, and rubbed calming circles on my back; while kissing the top of my head. “Breathe, Kitten… It’s ok; you can cry”. “I’m not crying. I’m just pissed", I growled. He pulled back, and wiped a tear I hadn’t realized was there. away from my cheek. “Yeah, you are. You’re also sad, and crying; and there’s nothing wrong with that”. I felt my lower lip begin to tremble, and suddenly I began sobbing. “No one cares about those kids… He’s still got them, and the only reason they sent us after him, was because of the prince; but he wasn’t even taken by Hatter… They used those kids’ kidnappings as a way to make themselves look better. It’s like we don’t even matter. No one cares what happened to me…”. “I care, baby. I do", Rick assured me.

After a long moment, I wiped my eyes, and looked up at him. “Thanks…”, I muttered. A slight smile spread on his lips. “Do you want me to go find a cop car for you to slash the tires of?”, he asked. “Kind of…”. I sighed. “Can we get out of here?”. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and took my hand. “Let’s go”.

---

“What was the deal with her royal bitchiness, and your old man?”, I asked, as I wiped ketchup from the corner of my mouth. I’d just devoured a hotdog; not having had a meal since the donut earlier that day. The sky was growing dark, and more rumbling announced a coming rain-shower. Rick looked up at the clouds with a frown on his face. “She told me that she was a kid, she had a favorite nanny. They stayed in touch after she grew up, and the nanny went home to Bulgravia”. He met my eyes. “She was one of the people my dad saved that day when he…”. “Oh…”, I said. “Yeah… The nanny is dead from old age by now, but she wrote princess Valeria letters telling her about what happened… The princess said she’d testify in defense of my dad, if he ends up… if Waller sells him out”.

My jaw dropped, and I instantly felt shame flushing through me. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Rick! I messed that up now, didn’t I…?”. “I don’t think so. She seemed pretty dead set on making sure he’d be rewarded for what he did… She loved that old lady. I know that Wayne guy said he'd take care of it; but having the word of a royal highness can't hurt, right?". I shrugged slightly in reply. He threw out our napkins in a nearby bin, and took my hand; leading me down the sidewalk. After a moment of walking in silence, I looked at him through the corner of my eye. “Maybe I do have just a little bit of an anger issue…”, I muttered. “You don’t say”, Rick chuckled. “Shut up”, I said. “Yes, ma’am”. He squeezed my hand.

We rounded a corner, to make our way back to where the van was. “So, the kid wasn’t kidnapped?”, Rick asked. “No. If there’s one thing Hatter loves as much as having control over people, it’s money”, I said. “All that technology he used for his experiments, isn’t free. He needs money to do his… work. The princess probably paid him a good amount for his hospitality towards the kid”. “It’s weird. How would she even know who Mad Hatter is, or how to get in touch with him?”, Rick frowned. I shrugged. “I have no idea”. We walked in silence for a moment longer. “But the kid got us a way in to Hatter’s headquarters, right?”, Rick asked. “Yeah. My voice”, I said. “What?”. “I think Hatter’s using an old recording of me as the key to the door”. “Meaning, you have to be there when we go in”. Rick’s expression grew dark. “That was never really a question”, I said. “Oh, it absolutely was… is”.

I halted in my tracks, taking Rick by surprise. “We’re not doing this”, I said matter-of-factly. “Doing what? I’m just saying…”. “You’re trying to keep me out of the fighting; just like you always do”, I said. “I have to be there when Hatter goes down”. “And what if he gets to you? Hurts you?”. “There’s nothing he can do to me, that he hasn’t already done a thousand times over”. Rick shook his head. “No… You come with us to the door, let us in; and the rest of us take it form there”. I raised an indignant eyebrow at him. “I’ll just smile if you try to keep me away. Slip in before you”. “Not if I arm that harness, you won’t”, Rick said; nodding towards the disc on my chest. “You’d rather me blow up, than go with you?”, I scoffed. He looked taken aback by my words. “No, of course not… And it wouldn’t…”. He halted himself, as if having said something he shouldn’t have. “I just wanna protect you”. “I’m a big girl, Rick. I can take care of myself. Have, for a long time”. “I know you can, but… I don’t want to lose you… again”. He looked like he was in actual pain. Raindrops began falling; first as a light drizzle, but before long, the skies opened, and the rain fell hard. “Come on!”.

We ran back to the van, and I opened it with my new watch. We climbed in the back, and closed the door. I shrugged off my jacket, and Rick took off his own. “If I’m ever gonna get over the stuff that happened to me, I have to face it…”, I said, as we sat across from each other. “Face him. I need to look that man in the eyes, and show him that he didn’t break me… That he doesn’t own me anymore”, I said. Rick closed his eyes for a moment, and sighed. “I know. I just wish that wasn’t the deal”. He looked at me with determined eyes. “I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get you what you need”.

Through the tinted windows, I saw a couple running together under an umbrella, making their way through the alley, and into a doorway. The man dipped down to give the woman a deep kiss, and she giggled as he patted her bottom, to make her go through the door. “Remember that week we spent at the cabin?”, Rick asked. “Which time?”, I chuckled. “It was kind of our go-to getaway spot”. “After Fawcett City”, he smiled. I laughed out loud. “Yeah, it rained the whole time. You hadn’t had time to fix the roof, so we had to sleep on the floor, ‘cuz the pullout got drenched. We were miserable”. “We had some good moments too”, Rick smirked. “You’re just saying that, because all of our clothes were constantly wet, and we had to be naked the whole time”. “Well, you look good naked”, he shrugged. “Right back at you”, I said. I looked down at my watch. “We still got some time, before the others are supposed to get back”. Rick’s smile became a full-on grin. “Get over here”.

With a giggle, I practically jumped at him, and straddled his lap. As we devoured each other in a deep kiss, Rick rummaged through his pockets for the key to my harness. When he finally found it, I’d already unbuckled his pants, and had my hand down his boxers, working his cock to a full erection. He pulled the straps down my arms, and I got up just long enough to shrug it off; before dropping to my knees in front of his seat, and wrapping my lips around him. “Holy shit, woman. You’re gonna be the death of me!”, Rick rasped, as I sucked at him; bobbing my head up and down. I looked up at him, and smiled with my eyes. Making a long languid lick down his dick – enjoying every inch of deliciously tasting skin – I sucked one of his testicles in to my mouth. I hummed around it, and then released it with a pop. “Yum…”, I said. “You like that, huh…?”, Rick smirked. I nodded, and he put his hand to the back of my head. “Then get back to it”.

For a long time, I sucked at him, flicking the tip of my tongue against his perineum every time I got to his tip. I massaged his balls, and felt them tense in my grasp. After a while, Rick tugged at my hair. “Kitten, stop… You gotta stop”, he croaked. I pouted in protest, when suddenly he put his hands under my arms, and pulled me up to stand. I had to bend a bit, to not hit my head against the roof of the van, as he yanked my leggings and panties down. Once my lower half was naked, Rick leaned forward, and pulled me against his face, with a firm hold of my butt. He sucked my clit into his mouth, and I let out a rasping moan. “Please… I want you inside me”, I pleaded. Rick chuckled against my pussy, and only held on tighter. “Rick!”, I croaked. “No. You’re gonna come like this first”. He sunk two fingers in to me, and began scissoring them. His tongue and lips got back to work, and I had to grab on to his shoulders to keep from falling. I put one foot up on the seat next to him, letting him go even deeper with his fingers, and making room for his mouth to get at me just the way he knew would make me see stars. Soon I cried out, and came in violent shudders; my legs almost giving in. Rick pulled back, and smiled up at me. “Good girl”.

I pulled his fingers out of me, and moved to sit down again. He grabbed himself, and pressed against my entrance; and once I finally settled on his lap, he bottomed out with a groan. He quickly pulled the mesh top over my head – leaving me naked but for my bra – threw his arms around me, and held me tight, while I began moving my hips to ride him. Rick kissed and nibbled at my pulse-point, and my eyes rolled back from the feeling of how perfectly he filled me. The sensation of his hard, velvety dick moving in and out of me, and his hot breath against my neck, was perfection. After a while of me moving on top of him, he pulled back a bit, and looked at me almost embarrassedly. “Could you… do the thing?”. I chuckled. “You’re such a freak”, I said, gave him a deep kiss; and smiled.

Rick looked down at his cock being squeezed inside me. He groaned loudly, and grabbed a hold of my invisible breast, pulling the cup of my bra down, to try with my nipple. “You feel amazing… Don’t stop”, he demanded, making me move faster on top of him. Rick’s hands began exploring my body. Unable to see me, he was reacquainting his hands with my skin, curves, scars and bumps. With Rick, I never felt like I had anything to be ashamed of, when it came to my body; invisible or not. Rick moved one hand down my back, and over my bottom. His fingertips travelled between my cheeks, before his middle finger stroked over my puckered hole. Gathering some of the wetness from or joined sexes, Rick pressed the tip of his finger inside me. “Oh my god…”, I breathed. “Want me to stop?”, he asked. “No… more!”.

As Rick's finger pushed into me, I felt my mirage beginning to falter. I flickered back in to view, as my muscles clenched around Rick; unable to keep up my smiling. Desperate to draw out the bliss streaming through me – and seeing my second orgasm on the horizon – I kept riding Rick’s finger and cock with a fervor. “I feel it, Kitten… Let go for me”, Rick panted. With his free hand, he grabbed the back of my neck, and it was like he was trying to push himself deeper into me. I let out a raspy moan, and suddenly my climax washed over me; like a warm wave. As I came around him, all control and strength left me; and Rick took over controlling my movements. He pulled out his finger, and spun us around – placing me in his seat – all while his cock was still inside me. Thrusting forcefully in to me, Rick soon let out a loud groan; and came himself. He collapsed against me, and we both smiled blissfully.

A loud tapping against the window, and the shrillness of Harley’s voice, tore us from our little bubble. “Are you finished yet? It’s raining out here; and we’d like to get inside”.

---

Tags: @supernaturalcat7 @blondiekook

#rick flag #rick flag fic #the suicide squad #the suicide squad fic #harley quinn #bloodsport #captain boomerang #rick flag smut

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astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

Text

Demon Brothers being Soft for Their Daughters

Might just be me but I think there's nothing cuter than a Dad who loves his daughter so I made a hc for our boys. Strap in, it’s a long one!

IMPORTANT! Watch out for first half spoilers! Assumed that the child is a half human/half demon with the MC!

Lucifer

Tries to be really strict but ends up being kind of a pushover.

Oh there ARE rules that even his little girl can't break, but most of the time she can get away with almost anything if she's cute clever enough.

Pushes her to be the best at almost anything she tries, expectations be real high; gonna take the MC stepping in to remind him winning isn't everything and please cool it on the pressure.

Lowkey learned his lesson before and doesn't want to make another Satan situation so tries to take MC's advice to heart and not be quite so controlling.

Her favorite uncle is Mammon and he gets cold sweats about this every night.

Wasn't able to be there for a lot of her firsts due to work and gets real sulky when he misses out. Videos just don't offer the same experience...

Feels bad that work keeps him so busy so he tries to make up for it with toys, clothes, jewelry, pretty much whatever she likes at the time.

Would never admit it, but his black heart melts every time he comes home and sees she's excitedly waiting by the door.

One of those parents who will never stop bragging about how amazing their kid is to anyone who will listen, but never when she's in the same room.

100% that overprotective "I'm going to give you a brief tour of the torture chamber, then we’ll browse my whip collection. Oh, make sure she's home by 8" kind of dad if she were to ever bring home a date. They will know that his baby is not to be messed with (like anyone's crazy enough to try honestly).

Mammon

So over the goddamn moon that someone actually wanted to have a kid with him that he couldn't shut up about it for weeks.

Treasures his little girl more than anything he owns, even Goldie. When she's a baby the two of them are practically inseparable.

The biggest pushover to ever be pushed. She's about the only person he's ever unconditionally generous to and he really spoils her rotten.

She's just as materialistic as her father, honestly, but MC made sure their girl was raised with good morals. The first of which being no stealing. Ever. She works for every cent she spends.

On the one hand, he's actually pretty damn proud and relieved that she won't be called "scum" or anything like her father, but on the other hand like… Ew. Who raised you? (No one remind him it’s kind of his doing anyway).

For once in his greedy existence, he can tell a sob story about really needing that loan or those shoes for his beloved daughter and actually mean it… most of the time 😏

Even when she's young, though, she will ask him if a gift he's giving her was taken from someone else and, man, he cannot lie to her face. People shame him for stealing all the time but the little look of disappointment she gives him hurts WAY more than all of his brothers’ insults combined.

Probably one of the most supportive and involved dads in existence. He will be at every game, every recital, every meet. Even if he's complaining the whole time, if anyone so much as suggests that he just shouldn't go he'd be appalled.

…. He's perhaps a little too involved because he's also totally the kind of father who will lowkey stalk his daughter's dates to be sure nothing bad happens. MC, please step in. She needs privacy too.

Leviathan

Was incredibly worried about having a kid, he's not even had the best track record when it comes to pets and parenting is some high-level normie stuff. But his little girl's first smile absolutely melted his doubts away.

That being said… he's still not the greatest with little kids. For a long time if the baby so much as sneezed unexpectedly he'd start shouting for the MC and checking every website he can like??? My half demon baby won't stop sneezing, is it pneumonia???

Gets a lot less panicky as the child gets older, but in those early years he'd practically want to stick them in a bubble wrap suit.

He passed on his love of the ocean and underwater creatures pretty early on. The running joke is that his girl knew how to swim before she knew how to crawl.

Family aquarium trips are an absolute must.

The second they're old enough to understand plot he's introducing them to his favorite shows, but only the best (and most child-friendly) ones of course. He wants his daughter to grow into a woman of culture, damnit! Pop culture that is.

Sooo much text/chat lingo between these two. It's not her fault really. She was bound to pick it up but man can it sound like they're speaking tongues at times.

With practice she can and will beat her old man at most video games and, yes, it makes his cry tears of equal parts pride and aggravation.

Has a mini-panic attack every time she hits a new milestone, like, yes he's so fucking proud but also don't you think she's growing up too fast??? MY BABY GIRL!!! 😭😭😭

Cries like a baby to the MC when she goes out on her first date because he realized she's really, truly, growing up and he's afraid his little girl isn't going to want to spend time with her lame old dad anymore.

Satan

Tries to be strict and IS strict but mostly on schoolwork.

Her grades best not be slippin' or this Book Papa will take all her stuff away. End of discussion.

Otherwise, he's surprisingly chill being the Avatar of Wrath and all. He of all people understands the desire to just have your own life and do your own thing.

She'll inherit his temper though, that's a given, and if they both get going then watch out. Fights between them can get verbally explosive, but never physical. Even at his angriest Satan would never once lay a hand on his daughter.

Read to her every night when she was young: storybooks, novels, mythologies, didn't matter to him. Whatever she wanted to hear. Still, he was so proud the day she told him that she wanted to read on her own.

100% makes nearly everything in life a teachable lesson but also helps her when she needs it. He wants her to forge her own path but is still very supportive when the situation calls for it.

Would never EVER admit it, but he does just as many dad jokes as Lucifer.

Of all the brothers, he's probably the most typical father to have, there for his kid just enough while also making sure they're not getting away with murder.

Is totally chill with her dating because he knows he doesn’t have to be super protective of her. She can more than handle herself if something goes wrong, in fact, if he were to step in it would probably add insult to their already grievance injury.

That being said, he IS the Avatar of Wrath. If someone hurts his girl he’s going to have a turn one way or another.

Asmodeus

Oh YEEESSS, he's not normally the commitment kind of guy but he and MC raising a child? They'd be the most gorgeous thing in the universe!!! (Not counting himself of course)

Beautifying his baby since day one, but the MC keeps him from doing anything too extreme. A lot of baths, good moisturizer, hairstyling (when she grows enough of it), etc.

Soooo many outfits. She'll practically never wear the same thing twice and Asmo coordinates his own clothes to match hers all the time.

He actually goes out and parties LESS if you can believe it, especially when she's young and needs a lot of supervision. But he'll get pent up real quick so learning how to do a quiet quickie during naptime is a must.

His girl is all over his Devilgram, nearly every milestone is snapped up and recorded. He loves her more than anything and would just scream about his pride and joy from the rooftops if social media didn't provide him that outlet.

Makes sure his daughter knows that she is gorgeous, she is loved, and passes on every bit of self-confidence he has. Doesn't matter if she grows up a girly-girl, tomboy, or anything else under the sun. When you're feeling good just being you, heads will turn on their own accord!

Not the best at discipline and would only really step in if he thinks she's being a real jerk about something. Day to day attitude adjustments are totally up to the MC.

He is, however, the best sex-ed teacher one could ever ask for and makes sure his daughter knows there's no shame in what comes natural, just be sure you're respectful and responsible!

Completely unfazed when the suitors began lining up, I mean she is HIS daughter. It was inevitable. Offers tips and advice when he can but lets her go off and experiment naturally. Young love is a beautiful thing! (Just don't break his girl's heart though because he may lowkey curse your whole bloodline)

Beelzebub

….. MC, you're going to be eaten out of house and home.

Though his daughter's appetite isn't AS bad as his, Beel could tell it's going to be an issue from day one but he's ready for it.

Dedicates his freaking life to being sure she never goes one night hungry. He'll cook, he'll shop, he'll even share from his own plate if he has to. The thought of her going through anywhere near the level of starvation he feels on a daily basis is enough to crush his soul (if he has one)

You better bet there will be eating competitions. She never wins, but the fact she can even get close will have him grinning anyway.

That being said, he will push for a healthy and active lifestyle for her too.

Highkey wants her playing sports and doing team activities because he genuinely thinks it will help her stay healthy and make friends.

Just the right amount of discipline. Tries to be understanding but also knows when to call a spade, a spade and express his disapproval.

Very in-tune to her emotions and her needs even if he can’t quite grasp WHY she's feeling the way she is. Keeping up with teen drama is going to be the bane of his existence...

Uncle Belphie=That one cool uncle who lets you get away with anything and probably gives out sugar after bedtime.

One of the only brothers who makes a point of his daughter also seeing and exploring her human heritage too and not just treating her like a pseudo-demon… And it's totally not just for the added excuse of sampling human world cuisine, like, come on who do you take him for? 🤫

Somewhat cautious about her dating, but ultimately just wants her to be happy. He'll usually trust her judgment but he's pretty good at reading someone's character and if he gets real bad vibes from anyone he's not above telling her, "No. Not that one." Whether or not he's listened to depends on the situation.

Belphegor

Lol MC, you could have picked a much better choice. Borderline Deadbeat/Cool Dad here!

Kids… not his thing. He doesn't dislike them exactly, they're just a lot of work and he's sort of allergic to that. He's more of a semi-irresponsible babysitter type.

Case in point, "Belphie, watch the baby" becomes "Belphie, if you're going to take a nap at least hold onto her leg so she doesn't go anywhere."

Only saving grace is she takes after him so most days she's pretty dang sleepy too. Naptime is a good third of the daily routine (not that anyone is complaining).

Shit at discipline because, like, what leg does he have to stand on? If she wants to ditch class, why not let her? Once or twice ain't that bad.

Takes her on a lot of "field trips" to the human world like he would with Lilith. Genuinely wants her to experience both sides of her identity and encourages her to explore her human side just as much as her demon.

The kind of chill dad that you feel comfortable going to when you've got to talk out a problem or need life advice. He might not be able to offer many answers, but he tries in his own way.

Will prank his kid and will not feel sorry, but is never cruel about it. In fact, this will only spur on a mutual prank war between the two.

Uncle Beel=that genuinely nice uncle who tries to teach you life lessons and how to take care of yourself… while also eating a ton of food.

Would be super confused at first if she started dating like?? How? He kind of sees her like a mini-him at times and his human came to him. Since when did she stay awake long enough to leave the house?? But otherwise he goes with the flow. Whatever she wants, her life.

He might get a bit more agitated if she starts to date a human, like, lowkey bad flashbacks to the whole Lilith situation and the MC would probably have to cool his jets about it. Different circumstances after all.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me headcanons #obey me luficer #obey me leviathan #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me scenarios

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 4 years ago

Text

you were shunned and burned your cradle

Newsies Gen PG 4,365 words AO3 Living in New York isn't easy for a boy on his own. It's worse for Crutchie between his leg and the air itself trying to poison him. But things really can only go up. For @i-got-personality as part of @newsies-secret-santa! You said you like Crutchie, canon era, and any kind of magic and well I hope that you like this!

Being a changeling in New York City hurts. It makes his skin itch and his lungs burn and his eyes water. From the iron that surrounds him, fills the very air along with the smoke. If he’s not careful when he reaches out or brushes against something his skin comes away with a sharp, searing scar.

Being a changeling hurts in a different way too. Knowing that, for whatever reason, his mother gave him up. That a human baby was far preferable to him and so he was left in some other child’s crib. To make matters worse, he was given up twice. That hurt even more.

On his crueler days, the ones filled with self-loathing, he blames himself. That it was some personal failing, his bum leg perhaps, that made his mother exchange him. That the same failing is why the woman who believed herself his mother threw him out onto the street. Logically, he knows this isn’t the case. For one, he remembers what happened to his leg and it involved an iron poker that proved to his mother he wasn’t really hers as fear burned in her eyes.

Being a changeling in New York hurts and it’s hard too. Trying to grow, to thrive, in a city that was made in opposition to your very nature. It’s even harder when you’re just a kid. When you’re living on the streets. His first few nights are the worst. He’s cold and hungry and tired and he hurts. Oh does he hurt.

Being a changeling is no walk in the park, though ironically walks in the park help some. Help a lot. Until he tires. But being a changeling in a city as big as New York means you’re not alone. Well, you’re never alone but there’s others too. If you know how to spot them.

He’s been sleeping in doorways and sneaking food from market stalls – but not begging, whether an innate part of being a one of the Folk or an innate part of himself he did not want or need anyone’s pity – for a few weeks when he sees her. She’s tall, very tall and with the tatters her skirts are in he’s able to see the pale pink of her calves from knee to muddy leather boots. It’s not a normal pink, not like the glimpses of his own cold cheeks in shop windows, but the dusty pink of a rose. Her fingers are the same color as she waves and calls, catching passersby’s eye and gesturing to the basket of flowers on her arm. The violets match her thick, plated hair and the bluebells her bright, solid-colored eyes.

He stops, shocked on the other side of the street, when he sees her. A cart and then trolley pass between them and still he can’t tear his gaze away. She’s smiling at him once the street is clear, wide and kind. The light almost sparks off her pointed teeth. She winks and crooks a long, thin finger to him. He crosses without another thought, barely managing to remember how to even walk before he’s in front of her.

“Hello little one,” she coos, tilting his chin up so he can meet her gaze. Her pink fingers then trail through his hair, straightening it, before running down to brush over his shoulders and tug lightly at his vest. This close he sees that she has small white flowers woven into the braid of her purple hair. They look like stars in a twilight sky and he’s fairly certain they sparkle too.

“Hello, miss,” he manages to reply.

Her grin sharpens. “You’re a polite young man. And that smile! Sweeter than stolen cream.”

At those words he can’t help but preen. “Thank you, miss. I quite like your hair myself. I’ve-” he stumbles, tightening his grip on the crutch under his arm, “I’ve never seen hair that color.”

Eyes widening, she straightens. “My, you’ve not met one of your own before, have you?”

“No, miss,” he shakes his head, hair flopping into his eyes. He reaches up to brush it back but she’s faster. Brushing it away with her rosy fingers again.

“But you know our ways?” She says it like a question but the flash of her eyes makes it a challenge.

He straightens, feeling so proud it borders on smug. “Never give your true name, always be polite, and nothing is a gift.”

Her head tilts and he honestly can’t tell if she’s thrilled or disappointed. Though they both know it’s not all the ways of the Folk, just the important ones. The ones the humans know in order not to err on their bad side. But for a changeling like him, it’s a good start and all true. That’s another thing he knows, the Folk cannot lie.

“Very good little one. You may know, but I doubt you have much practice. Let us strike a bargain, shall we?” Again, her head tilts and more than her long limbs or resemblance to a garden or sunset, this looks the oddest to him. Sets her apart from the humans still buffeting them on the busy street.

“Only be it fair and true,” he replies on instinct. Because, there’s nowhere else it could have possibly sprung from.

Pride and amusement has her spine straightening as she nods. “My proposition is thus; you give me the two buttons from your vest and I shall weave you a crown that will never wilt. That will remind you of who you are.”

He has to think about it, faerie bargains are notoriously tricks meant to cheat the person hapless enough to make one. There are normally catches and clauses. There are twists and double meanings and you always, always lose more than you gain. Yet, this seems simple. Straightforward. And it would be rude to say no.

“A trinket for a trinket,” he says, stalling.

She inclines her head. “A mortal trinket for a faerie trinket. A piece of a life that was and will be again.”

His heart and mind catch on that last bit but to puzzle it out could take all day and he’s getting hungry. He was trying to find food when he saw her in the first place. It’s a risk, but a benign one. “My two buttons for a flower crown woven by you that will never wilt.”

Again, her smile is sharp. But her knife his sharper as she leans forward and cuts the buttons from his vest, hand moving quickly to cup them before they can do more than fall from the fabric. She slips them into the folds of her skirt, her knife disappearing too. Just as quickly she begins to pluck flowers from her basket with her too long, stick thin fingers and begins to weave them into a crown and in a blink it’s on his head.

“May you wear it in good health,” she says and it’s a blessing he didn’t bargain for. His stomach twists and he nods; remembering not to thank her at the last moment. She flashes one last grin as she turns away, her skirts flaring out, and walks down the sidewalk.

He manages to not lose his flower crown as he falls in with a group of satyrs living in Battery Park, though he leaves after a few weeks when he learns the fish they always have for dinner comes straight from the aquarium in the castle. He goes back to sleeping in doorways and on fire escapes after that. He’s hungry all the time but he can never be sure if it’s his nature or his circumstances that cause it.

Eventually, his clothes become too thin and short, showing off his wrists and legs and strips of his stomach. Sleeping on fire escapes has a new bite as the fabric begins to cover less and less and more and more of his skin is exposed to the iron. The worst is how tight his boots have become, pinching and squeezing at his toes. He refuses to go barefoot though, not because of the cold but because it reminds him too much of the others. The women who walk on the breeze and become one with the trees. The men who blink at him before disappearing into shadows and around corners. The beings and creatures who pinch and poke and trick and steal and cackle and dance, dance, dance in between the oblivious crowds.

He finally manages to trade with an immigrant family from the Lower East Side, not feeling sad to hand over the last items his mother gave him in exchange for shoes that are just a hair too big and clothes that keep his skin from the sparking itch of his fire escape beds.

It’s this sleeping arrangement that gets him in trouble. Faeries are meant to be swifter, stronger than humans. But with his crutch he’s not able to outrun the police. A shopkeeper reports him for vagrancy and even his charms aren’t able to keep the police from dragging him to the Refuge.

Another boy, a newsboy, sees this from a little ways down the street. He freezes and his face darkens. His face with its too sharp angles and too bright eyes. The boy is moving before he has the time to process this, making a messy grab for a trinket from a nearby vendor’s cart, dropping his papers in the process. The police notice – everyone on the block notices – and grab him. The boy struggles but it’s a show, he can tell it’s just for show, and soon they’re both being lifted into the wagon.

The trial is short, the other boy cocky, and the warden at the Refuge cruel. At least here he has a bed, a real bed, for the first time in years. The other boy smooth talks his way into getting the one next to him.

“You can call me Jack, Jack Kelly. Though some of the boys call me Cowboy too,” he says with a quicksilver smile.

He raises a skeptical brow, his thoughts catching on the phrasing and the sharp points the boy’s ears come to. Sharp points that match his own.

“You’re like me,” he says instead of giving his name. He knows better than to give anyone his name. He knows Jack certainly isn’t this boy’s.

“Depends on what you mean by that,” Jack says slyly, stretching out on the thin bunk.

“How do you do it?” He asks with genuine curiosity, leaning forward so he can lower his voice and study Jack’s pleasantly bored expression.

Confusion pulls at Jack’s brow. “Do what?”

“Work as a newsboy.” It wasn’t obvious? “They lie all the time to make money.”

The quicksilver is back. “I never lie. I just embellish the truth. Tell a story. The facts are there, just maybe not all the facts. If it weren’t true, I couldn’t say it.” Jack shrugs and it’s an odd motion since he’s laying on his back with his hands propped behind his head. Made odder by the fact that it seems almost graceful. “It’s not so bad. Get to go all over the city and the lodging house means you’ve got a bed if you can afford it.”

He frowns at the non-sequitur. It deepens when he realizes it’s an abrupt topic change. “We’re stuck here and you’re offering me a job?” he can’t keep all the disbelief out of his voice. Even if he hadn’t checked, he could feel that the windows and doors were barred with thick iron rods.

“I’ll be out of here by dawn, question is if you’re coming with me?”

For a solid minute he weighs his options. The Refuge with its coldness and crying children. Jack with his silver tongue and faerie arrogance.

When they manage to sneak out into the courtyard a few hours later they’re met by the boys who helped break the lock and distract the guards. The first causes him to stop, he’s so obviously a sprite that the scowl is the only thing keeping him from laughing. The other is mortal and chomping on an unlit cigar, the scent of which still makes him wrinkle his nose. The four slink out and into an alley before twisting around the block and through another back alley until they’re farther and farther away.

“We’re even now, Kelly,” the sprite finally growls once the sky begins to lighten.

“A deal’s a deal, Spot.” Jack offers his hand, spitting into it first. If he hadn’t already figured the boy was one of the Folk that would have confirmed it. The spit shake marks him as a newsie. Spot turns to him and the mortal, nodding at them both before turning off a side street and disappearing.

“Bell’s gonna ring soon,” the boy says, almost nervous as he bounces on his toes and glances down the street. His eyes dart to where Spot disappeared to, then to him, and finally back to Jack.

“And we’ll be there, right new kid?” Jack raises a brow at him. It’s a taunt.

“Course,” he replies. No bargain was struck, no deal made, but he is in Jack’s debt and they both know it.

Jack nods, smiles, and turns back to the mortal. “Go get in line, Race. Make sure Weasel don’t give us no grief for being late.”

Race, apparently, grins around the cigar and takes off running. Maybe that’s where the nickname comes from.

“You can trust Racetrack,” Jack tells him vaguely as they follow, “he’s good people.”

Or maybe that’s not where the nickname comes from.

In the next few weeks, he learns the ins and outs of selling from Jack. And of “charming folks” though truthfully, it’s just magic. Jack starts calling him “Kid” and the other newsies “Crutchie” and he doesn’t really care because neither are his name and that’s what matters. The night in the Refuge isn’t the first or last Jack spends there, but it is the only one that’s intentional. He works harder to repay Jack who seems less and less inclined to care.

Finally, he feels they’re even when he manages to discover the nook in the corner of the roof of the lodging house. The air is still filled with smoke and iron but not the smell and sounds of mortal boys. He takes careful trips up with bedding and supplies until he feels it’s suitable. Sleeping under the stars just feels right and he can tell Jack agrees by the expression on his face when he sees it.

They grow close. The other newsies learn he can predict the weather with startling accuracy and say it must be thanks to his leg, he never corrects them. They talk as the city chokes them, about going to someplace that’s nothing but stars. The money comes in fits and starts as he grows into his own sharp features. The other Folk avoid him but mortals feel almost compelled to buy his papers. Stories come in across the river of a young newsie rising through the ranks of Brooklyn and ruling with an iron fist. They don’t tell any of the others that the rumors sound an awful lot like the stories of Court drama they hear.

He keeps his own crown in the bag at his hip, as unchanging as the day he received it. Though now, years later and clothes traded and swapped and bought he misses the buttons she took. Misses having something that reminds him of the place he used to believe was home. For even his crutch is different, having long outgrown the original.

They’re teenagers too soon, a blink in their long lifetimes. With it comes something they don’t expect, an odd almost awed respect from the others. Except Race but he never counted. He’s tied up in Brooklyn as a rule and so is exempt. They never sought the power they seemingly have, power different than that which they were born with, and they discover it in the most dramatic way.

It starts with a raise in prices. A raise which isn’t fair, and they of all people would know. Jack is outraged, he is angry too but in a colder way.

The new boy, the one who either didn’t heed the stories of the old world or else his family hadn’t passed them on – and that did happen as people sought to keep the good and leave the monsters behind when they came to America and never would they imagine to find so many pretty ones in the center of the city – and offers his name as though it was on a platter. Even his little brother gives a nickname. But Jack had been kind and called him Davey and the others had too, much to Davey’s unknowing chagrin.

The new boy, Davey, matches Jack in his heat, at least momentarily, offering the spark to Jack’s powder and unknowingly unleashing that power.

When Jack says they should strike, they strike.

He finally understands the appeal of the Courts for the first time.

“Do you think she’s really going to show up tomorrow?” he asks that night on the rooftop, head still spinning from the rush of their decision. The thrill had dampened slightly after Jack told him of Spot’s reluctance to join them. Understandable, why would he want to risk losing the grip he kept on the tight leash he had over Brooklyn? And he didn’t owe Jack anymore. But this was as much for them as for the mortals. Righting a wrong against oneself was practically faerie law. Though the girl reporter was an intriguing thought and a twist even he hadn’t seen coming.

“I think so,” he can hear Jack’s smirk in the dark. “She told me her name was Katherine Plumber.”

“Really?” He’s surprised, the way she’d eyed him he thought she’d know better.

“Least it’s the name she publishes under,” Jack is almost proud.

“Clever,” he says happily.

“Too bad your charm doesn’t work in print,” Jack teases.

“I don’t need glamour to be charming. The smile’s just icing.”

Jack laughs, the sound floating up over the rooftops. “Good thing she’s bringing a camera.”

He grins up at the stars.

Like any war there are casualties. Unfortunately, he is one of them. Being back in the Refuge again is hard. The time stretches and shrinks in ways he never imagined possible and somehow he knows decades, centuries later he will look back on this and still wonder. The scent of iron is so heavy it’s dizzying and the press of bodies so close it makes everything seem small. These mortals with iron in their blood and salt on their skin surrounding him on all sides. He has the crown, somehow he has the crown. His crown. It marks him as other and for a time, some measure of time, he feels even more alone. So different from these humans serving penance without crime with him.

He takes it out one night, straining to see the pale petals in the paler light of the moon when that changes. The crown proves he is not alone. The faerie woman, the flower seller, took what was never his to begin with and gave him his true home. His first taste of community. Of finding others like himself. Of finding Jack with his silver tongue and smile. Of the newsies of Lower Manhattan with their bright spirits and easy laughs in the face of the City. Of righteous Davey and mischievous Les and clever Kath. Even of Spot and his politics and power games. He found his birthright in the world he was forsaken to and that realization rekindles something within, twisting the crown in his hands.

He feels less alone, turning his charm back on as the sun rises. Knowing that he is just one of hundreds here in the Refuge feeling like this. Uses his charm to learn that there are some who can get messages in and out. Others who can get him supplies. And in the night, despite complaints from his fellows for the candlelight, he writes to Jack urging him to not let his own fire go out.

He knows they’ll win, has never been in doubt of it. Jack said they would and Jack can’t lie. But he knows Jack, and knows that not being able to tell a lie does not mean you can’t lie to yourself. So, he writes and hopes that it gets to Jack in time.

The time slips and spins and he sleeps and waits and imagines and remembers and nearly misses a name being called. A name that was never really his but he took before he could talk and he hasn’t heard in so long he’d honestly almost forgotten it. The others part for him as he carefully makes his way to the stairs that will lead him to the ground floor and the door out of this place. He is thankful for his faerie grace as he moves with so many eyes on him, his crutch catching on the uneven floorboards but he walks with his head high. Walks right out the door. He’s not the only one to do so, but he is the first.

Relishing in the ability to breath in the wind again, he rides in the governor’s open topped carriage taking in lungfuls of it. Even when it carries the stale scent of trash and the river. His smile is so wide it almost hurts and he nearly forgets to smooth the points his teeth have grown into with the giddiness humming like magic under his skin. The people on the street stare to see such a grubby looking boy riding alone in such finery and he lets them, waving a bit and laughing to think that all this was done just for him. There’s a strange metaphor all tied up in it somewhere. A riddle he’ll spend the time puzzling out later. Right now he just breathes.

Seeing the crowd turn at the sound of hooves and whistles and the governor’s gesturing sends his heart speeding. He accepts the excitement buzzing throughout it and between his ears as some of the boys rush the carriage, holding out hands in silent offers to help him down. For once, he accepts. Jack’s grinning up on the small stage above the door to The World – another twisted metaphor for another time – but he quirks a brow too. Knowing he only allows this because so much focus has passed on to question about the police wagon that has followed behind him the whole way.

He makes a face at Jack in silent response before letting his own pride takeover. He spins and gestures to the wagon where police officers are herding out a man. Herding out the man who runs the Refuge. Who ran the Refuge. He can almost feel his excitement pricking at his fingers in the same way iron does as the governor agrees to let him do the honors. The feeling overpowers the actual feel of the iron manacles as he clamps them on the man’s wrist, letting his glamor slip and his smile turn cruel for just a blink in the process.

The celebrating ends sooner than expected, though that isn’t entirely true. Despite the newsies lining up and taking their papers, they all still chatter and cheer. Bubbling up and over at their win. Jack is talking with Spot, Davey, and Kath when he comes over after getting his own stack for the morning. Spot gives him a significant nod before spit shaking hands all around and heading off with his lieutenants. Racetrack trailing behind. It’s an odd mirror of their first meeting and he brushes the thought away as another problem for another time.

“I’m so glad you’re ok,�� Kath says as she hugs him. He’s come to realize that she’s special in more ways than one. Her possession of the Sight just part of a larger enigma. Her willingness to pull him into her and easy offers of friendship another. He doesn’t argue though, squeezing her right back.

Davey offers a hand to shake once she frees him and a cautious smile. The caution has nothing to do with him though and everything to do with Davey’s own contradiction filled nature. “You were missed,” he says earnestly. Swatting at his little brother who begins babbling exactly how missed he was.

“So, how was the ride?” Jack slings an arm over his shoulders, wide smile as he pulls him in tight to his side.

“You struck a bargain,” he almost hisses through his own smile clenched teeth.

“We came to an agreement.” He feels more than sees Jack’s shrug.

“It was two deals,” Davey corrects with a stern turn to his mouth and a flash in his eyes. “Jack made two deals with Pulitzer.”

He pulls away, brushing off Jack’s hold. He stares hard at the other boy. Dares him to say something and damn himself. Say nothing and damn himself even further.

“The first was a deal only we could make,” Jack says smoothly. He doesn’t blink and his sharp features become sharper with the seriousness that overtakes him. He understands immediately. It was hard. It was cruel. And it doesn’t matter what exactly it was and who gave what because in the end Jack walked away with what mattered most.

“And the second?” he prompts.

Jack shrugs again, shares a glance with the others, and smirks. “We won.”

Truthfully, he should have expected that. He rolls his eyes. Later, under the stars and the smoke, breathing in as little iron as they can he’ll ask again. He’ll find out what he did to convince Spot. What the terms of the bargain were. Of both bargains. And whether Jack was going to tell Davey their true nature, since there was no point in telling Kath. They have all the time in the world to leave the city and see the stars. These people they’ve turned into a home have only a lifetime and he’s already decided that he’s going to make the most of it.

End notes can be found on ao3. Please leave a comment and lmk what you think there as well! :)

#newsies #newsies secret santa 2020 #crutchie morris #jack kelly #fae #writing #own writing #my fic #canon compliant #it technically is!!!#david jacobs #davey jacobs #katherine plumber #katherine pulitzer #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #it's the 20th here officially and i got excited about this so i'm posting

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airis-paris14 · 4 years ago

Text

Starlight 2

Summary: Amani is an orphaned heiress who’s spent most of her life raising her younger sister. T’Challa is a widowed King and Father. Neither of them is expecting much from their night at the Lotus. But the coming months have many milestones in store for these young adults. Will becoming a family be one of them?

A/N: This is long overdue. I’m applying to school to continue my education, so life is a little crazy. Hopefully after November everything will slow down and I can update more regularly. A new chapter of this story is half done, as well as a chapter of Redemption and Dress Up. They should be out in the next few weeks, probably after November 15. Keep me in your prayers, I’m slowly losing my mind y’all.

1| | 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 ||

Amani rolled over yawning as the sun streamed through her window. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and walked into the bathroom. She shot her sister a good morning text and hopped in the shower. After she brushed her teeth and washed her face, Amani threw on a sundress and some sandals.

She grabbed an apple from the kitchen and skipped out to sit on the porch. Amani sighed watching the sun creep up over the buildings.The young woman bit into her apple and watched traffic build up in front of Atlantic station. She noticed a limousine cruise through the traffic light and grinned. She tossed the apple core,washed her hands, and grabbed her small purse off of the couch. After grabbing her camera off of the kitchen counter she hurried back to the porch.

The untimely death of her parents gave her and her sister a lifetime of financial security. Faced with this reality Amani decided to give YouTube a chance. She started a vlogging channel a few years back and had a significant following. She had quickly discovered her passion for content creating. Checks from YouTube and waitressing were her means of income for shopping and travel. She double checked all of her necessities once more as the limo pulled silently to the curb. Amani forced herself not to run down the porch stairs, stopping herself halfway when the front door of the car opened. A woman in all black stepped out, opened the backdoor, and out bounded a very energetic Ada. The young princess ran across the yard into Amani's arms. "Hello to you too," Amani laughed as she hugged the little girl back.

Amani looked up to find T'Challa grinning and stepping out of the car. "Hello" he greeted.

"Hi," the young vlogger breathed, before coming back to her senses. Ada pulled her over to the car. "Let's go Amani," Ada bounced as the woman in black opened the door. Amani laughed and followed the princess into the car. T'Challa filed in next to her. The two smiled at each other before looking away.

"Where are we off to first?" Amani asked the little princess, as the car pulled onto the highway. "Baba reserved the aquarium since they have the most visitors," the little girl explained as she looked at the buildings. "Look Baba, That building looks like a pink piano!" Ada exclaimed as she jumped up excitedly.

"I see princess, but what did we talk about ?" He gently reminded her. The little girl's mouth formed an “o” as she settled in her seat. "Sorry Baba,"She said, still looking out of the window. T'Challa smiled,"no need to apologize."

“Tell me about Wakanda.” Amani propositioned the king beside her. The father watching as his daughter eagerly stared at all of the buildings. “What would you like to know?” he turned to face her. “What do you want me to know?”

“It is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. We have the best sunsets, and at night, you can see the stars like a blanket above you. There is so much to say that words can’t express it all,” T’Challa stared off outside the window.

The young vlogger grinned. "Well you'll have to show me around one day. A city tour for a city tour" she joked as they pulled up to the aquarium.

They stepped out of the limousine and the woman in black escorted them inside. The building was empty as the unofficial family wandered through together. “Baba! Baba! Look! Over here! Look!” Ada’s squeals tickled Amani. The young woman snickered as the four year-old dragged her father over to a tank. Amani wandered close by before settling on a bench. A smile spread on her face as T’Challa bent over the tank to pet stingrays with his daughter.

"You look beautiful by the way,"T'Challa said as he sat next to Amani on the bench a little while later.

"Thank you," Amani blushed as T'Challa grabbed the camera."What’s this for? You haven't taken any pictures today." The handsome man looked at Amani expectantly.

“I'm a vlogger on YouTube. I make videos about my day to day life for a week, then I edit and post them." Amani explained. "Would you mind if I take some video?"

"Sure,” he stood up offering her a hand. "Everything will have to be approved by the public relations team in Wakanda before you could post it though." The couple stood up and followed Ada into the sea walk.

Fish, sharks, and stingrays of all sizes swam the glass tunnel around them. The little girl ran from side to side pointing at fish as each new one swam by. Amani laughed and ran up to Ada, “Look princess,” Amani lifted her up so that she could reach for the ceiling. Her eyes growing huge as a whale swam directly by her hand. Amani placed Ada back down as they moved further into the exhibit. The glass walkway opened into a large glass exhibit hall. Ada ran down to the front row. Her face pressed to the glass. She squealed excitedly as the animals swam by. Amani and T’Challa took a seat on one of the carpet terraces.

“The video approval is fine. The approval by the relations team I mean,” The vlogger smiled, finishing the conversation from earlier. “I guess I should make sure I only get your good side huh?”

“Every side is my good side,” the king teased.

"That’s the truth,” Amani muttered.

“Why thank you Ms. Okeke.”

Amani's face flushed red as she realized what she said. "You’re welcome," the young woman shrugged fumbling with her camera. She began recording the different fish and Ada, who was still running all around the aquarium exhibit. Amani and T’Challa followed along together in silence. The two stole glances at each other in between Amani recording, and T’Challa responding to his daughter.

“How does she have so much energy in that tiny body,” Amani laughed. She waved back at the little princess as she watched the fish in the tank across from them.

“Her mother was the same way. Always lighting up the room when she walked in.”

“Will you tell me about her?” Amani turned off her camera. She studied T’Challa’s face as he watched Ada convince Ayo to watch the penguins with her. Her four year old body trying to drag the warrior with her. “We had known each other since high school. We dated in college, and then we married young. We were so happy, so in love. Then she became pregnant, and I was over the moon. We spent months taking birthing classes. I cleared my schedule to go shopping for the baby. As she got further along in the pregnancy I would stay up with her talking about baby names until we both fell asleep. She gave me my Ada, and I love her for it.” T’Challa sighed, twisting a ring around his left ring finger.

“She sounds wonderful,” the waitress smiled sadly.

“Thank you, for doing this for Ada, I know she misses her mother when we go on these long trips.” T’Challa smiled, squeezing Amani’s hand. “Baba!” Ada ran up to the couple. “They have a penguin show! We have to go, they said I could meet the penguins” The little girl jumped up and down, pulling her father along behind her.

Amani sighed, pulled out her camera, and trekked along behind the two into the auditorium. Guilt, jealousy, and hurt flooded her system and she watched father and daughter. She knew that she shouldn’t get attached. He just seemed too good to be true. He seemed to be a good father. He was royalty and he was charming. Him being single was just too much to ask of the universe. This day was for Ada and then they’d both go home to another woman. His wife, and Ada’s mother. Though, Amani knew she was already in too deep. She wouldn’t be able to stop her growing attachment now.

The rest of the afternoon she kept her distance, stayed mostly with Ada and avoided T’Challa’s gaze. That afternoon Amani found herself and Ada leading the way to the ice cream shop. “Which flavor are you gonna get princess?” Amani twirled the little girl as they walked down the street.

“I don’t know. I’ve only had chocolate. It was my mama and baba’s favorite. It’s the only thing he buys.” Ada hopped over a crack in the sidewalk. “Then we’ll have to get a bunch of samples.”

“Not too many,” T’Challa walked up to the duo. “Of course your majesty.” Amani replied, winking at the young princess when her father wasn’t looking.

Ten samples and a double scoop deconstructed waffle sundae comprise later, T’Challa watched as his daughter and Amani split the warm fluffy waffle covered in ice cream, syrup, whipped cream, and toppings. People milled around the open air mall as the incognito king and princess enjoyed their Saturday. It wasn’t hard for him to notice the distance Amani had created after talking about Nakia. He mentally kicked himself for possibly ruining it. It wasn’t hard to see that Amani had effortlessly melted into his little family. She and Ada were a joy to watch together and her smile lit up the room. He knew he wanted to cultivate a relationship, even if only a friendship.

“Who’s up for pizza?” T’Challa grinned. Amani and Ada frowned at him. “What? I’m still hungry.” T’ Challa insisted as he cleared their double scoop waffle sundae from the table.

“How about we get some pizza to-go and we can walk over to my house. It’s just a few streets over. By then Ada and I will have worked off our sundae. Just in time for pizza.” Amani suggested. T’Challa shrugged.

“Is that a yes?” Amani frowned. “Please Baba, please?” Ada pouted.

“I never said it was a no.” the king smiled, helping Ada down from her stool. He and Amani reached for her purse at the same time. The waitress grabbed her purse and quickly avoided his hand. T’Challa sighed as she sent him a soft smile and grabbed Ada’s hand. After a slightly amusing debate between Amani and Ada about pizza toppings the small band, pizza in hand, started the walk to Amani’s house. T’Challa watched as Amani tried to lift an extremely sleepy Ada.

“Trade you,” the king chuckled, handing the woman the pizza. Amani grabbed the warm cardboard box and watched as T’Challa pulled Ada into his arms. The princess snuggled into her father’s neck and drifted off to sleep. Awkward silence filled the space around them.

T’Challa cleared his throat, “Today was fun.”

“It was, thank you for inviting me along,” Amani replied. The two walked up the stairs to Amani’s house. As she fished for her keys, T’Challa grabbed the pizza box with his free arm. “Thanks, the waitress sighed using both hands to unlock the door. “No problem,” the king followed her into the townhome. Amani grabbed the box and pointed T’Challa towards the spare room, “You can lay her in there. There should be a blanket at the bottom of the bed, it can get a little chilly in there.”

“Thank you.”

Amani nodded as she washed her hands and grabbed three plates and some cups. With T’Challa’s retreating footsteps Amani took her first deep breath of the day. “Get it together sis,” Amani mumbled. “ What am I saying?” Amani grabbed a plate from the stack.

“Do you often talk to yourself?”

Amani cursed as she dropped the plate back on to the counter. The porcelain shattered into a million pieces. “I did not mean to scare you,” the king chuckled, walking over to help Amani gather the pieces.

“Haha.” Amani hurried to grab the pieces. “Be careful. I would not want you to cut your hand.” T’Challa reached out to pull Amani’s hand back. “I got it,” she jerked away, consequently slicing her hand. “Frick,” she muttered tears brewing in her eyes. She pulled her hand closer to her chest, trying to stop the incessant shaking.

“May I see?”

Amani nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying. The king wet a paper towel and began to wrap her hand. “Are you okay,” he looked up from wrapping to search for her eyes. He felt her tense as his finger traced the planes of her hand.

“I will be,” Amani pulled her hand away, purposefully avoiding T’Challa’s eyes. “Amani just let me help you,” the king insisted. “The pizza might be cold before I get back. Feel free to eat as much as you want. There is lemonade in the fridge.” She hurried away as T’Challa called out to her.

Amani took the time to gather her thoughts as she wrapped her hand. She sighed once the cut was cleaned, medicated, and bandaged. With nothing left to escape reality she walked back into the living room. The king was still sitting at the counter. The pizza was untouched. He looked up at her approach. “I cleaned up the rest of the pieces for you. And I took the pizza out of the box and put it in the oven to stay warm.”

“You didn’t have to wait on me to eat. I would have been fine using the micro-”

“I wanted to wait on you Amani.” the king silenced her. Her mouth formed an ‘o’ as she settled across from him at the sink.

“How is your hand?”

“It’s all good. I took some pain medication too.” she raised the now gauze wrapped hand into view.

“Good. I’ll take out the pizza.”

“Cool… Umm. It’s getting kind of late, you and Ada are more than welcome to crash here. Spend the night that is. I can put her in my sister’s room and you can have the guest room.”

“We would not want to inconvenience you.” T’Challa raised the pizza from the oven. “It’s not an inconvenience. Think of it as a thank you,” the woman shrugged.

“Well, then who am I to say no eh?” the king smiled, reaching over Amani to grab her a plate. She backed away from his arm.

“Did I do something wrong Amani?”

“No,psht, why would you think that?”

“You are a horrible liar,” the king sighed, placing the plate in front of her. He quickly made his own plate and went back to his seat. The two ate in silence. “I wanted to explain about earlier.”

“There’s nothing to explain. I understand-“

“Please Amani let me finish!” The king roared. Amani jumped slightly in her seat. “I am sorry I did not mean to-“ T’Challa started to apologize.

“I think that we should wake Ada up now-“ Amani started, trying to shuffle away from the counter.

“Amani-“ the king reached out to grab her hand. Amani practically leaped away from his touch. She hurried down the hall into Ada’s room. T’Challa sighed, his face falling into his hands.

Amani listened silently as Ada rambled on with her father. She moved her pizza crust around on her plate before getting up to throw it away. “Amani?” Ada’s tony voice pulled Anahi out of her head.

“Yes princess?”

“Why are you sad?” She tilted her head to the side. Amani’s lip trembled and spread into a small smile. “I just miss my little sister,” Amani bluffed. “It always helps me and my dad to talk about mama when we are sad.”

“Ada-“ T’Challa warned.

“She is fine,” Amani stopped him, “Maybe tomorrow princess,” Amani watched as the little girl hopped down and ran to hug her legs. “Thank you princess, I really needed that.” Amani picked her up and held the child close before letting her go. She grabbed her hand and began to lead her to Amare’s bedroom. “I got it,” T’Challa stepped in grabbing his daughter's hand.

“Oh okay. Bedroom is upstairs, the second door on the left. There’s a bathroom in there, and some towels in the closet. I’ll bring a t-shirt for her to sleep in.”

T’Challa nodded and led his daughter up the stairs.

Amani sighed and grabbed the pizza box to throw away. She flipped off all of the downstairs lights and pulled out a pair of her father’s old pajamas for T’Challa to wear. She chose a set of towels from the linen closet and placed them on the guest bed. She trudged upstairs into her bedroom and grabbed a t-shirt for Ada to wear after her bath. She tiptoed down the hall to drop Ada’s shirt off. She smiled to herself hearing the child and her father singing a song together she listened for a few more moments before slipping back out into her room. She took a quick shower and pulled on pajamas and a bonnet. She sat down at her computer to edit.

A few minutes into editing footsteps echoed outside of her door before T’Challa knocked. “Come in,” Amani’s heart pounded when the king walked into her room. “I just wanted to thank you for everything. You’ve been more than amazing and Ada adores you. Which is rare cause she’s always weary around strangers. She associates strangers with her mother being gone.”

Amani beamed, then let it fall at his last sentence. She swallowed. “I live having her around too. She’s so sweet.”

“Just like someone else I know,” T’Challa smiled leaning against the door frame. “Yeah you told me your wife used to light up the room like that,”Anani forced a smile. “Yes. But I was talking about a certain YouTuber whom I’d like to take out sometime.”

“What would your wife think?”

“I think after four years she would want me to meet someone new.”

“She left you?”

“Amani, Nakia is dead.”

Amani’s eyes widened. “I…” she gaped at T’Challa. “That’s what I was trying to explain earlier in the kitchen.”

“Why didn’t you say that earlier at the aquarium?”

“It did not seem relevant to the question.”

“I asked about your wife?”

“Yes you asked about Nakia. She is more than just a dead princess. She was a friend and a mother.”

“I understand. That doesn’t make it right though. You don’t think you should’ve clarified that before asking me out on a date?”

“I know and I apologize for making you uncomfortable,” T’Challa moved out of the door frame and into Amani’s bedroom. “I noticed that you avoided me for the rest of our day out with Ada.”

“I didn’t feel right flirting with a married man in front of his daughter.”

“So now that neither of us is married..” T’Challa moves to sit on the bed. Amani stood up. “I think that we should call it a night. There are towels, toiletries, and pajamas on your bed downstairs.”

T’Challa sighed and walked back towards the door. “Goodnight Amani,” he bowed.

“Goodnight,” Amani responded facing the wall by her desk. Only turning to look once she heard T’Challa’s footsteps leave the room.

She fell on to the bed and sighed before sitting up, “Shit. He’s single.”

Taglist: @sarahboseman @waitingonafriend @thiccdaddy-mbaku @sarcastic-sunshines @ororowrites @derangedcupcake @mzbritt @leahnicole1219 @dramaqueeenamby @marvelheaux @skysynclair19 @halfrican-heat @kaciidubs @queertrex @kumkaniudaku @purple-apricots @autumn242 @thedelightfulone @90sinspiredgirl @royallyprincesslilly @wikiwakanda @chaneajoyyy @sisterwifeudaku @sarahboseman @tchoking @almostpurelysmut

#blackpanther #tchalla fanfic #tchalla x reader #tchalla imagine #tchalla x you #tchalla fanfiction #tchalla x oc #tchalla x black!oc #tchalla x black! reader #bpapfics #starlightfic #tchalla #blackpantherimagines #apbpfics #t'challa x reader #tchalla black panther #black panther #t'challa #t'challa x oc

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witchsblackfox · 5 years ago

Text

Escape to The Circus

~A Cure?~

Summary: Almost done? I think not!

Note: Chapter is definitely a little short compared to the others. But I am stumped. Should I make the last chapter 19 or make it to 20 and see where it leads us from there?

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

Selina spent all week with Ivy in the biological garden over the Wayne Industry. Apparently Marinette has tried to leave the manor all Saturday nor has she been eating properly. This worried Selina more.

"There has to be something that can fix her. Do you have a plant that enhance her hunger? Or break whatever in her head that is making her think the worst thing imaginable?" Ivy just gave her the "will you shut up" stare and continued to combine a cure. Selina paced back and forth reading her copy of the file.

"Cubozoa is a jellyfish, so he'd have to have a way to get one or even be around one. Where could he find one?" Selina spoke to herself as she walked over to her phone and started looking for aquariums who house jellyfish.

"I got it!" Ivy shouted and held up a vile of light green liquid. "This should get her to at least eat." Selina Jumped up and down almost throwing her phone out of her hand.

"Great! Let's take it to Mari."

øøøø

It was already the 30th and everything that week wasn't going as planned. Marinette's wound on herf lot was good as new, only a scar took it's place, and she just kept on trying to leave.

Damn it... Cole is waiting for me and we have a performance for Halloween to rehearse for! She stomped around in her room trying to figure out a plan. I got it! She slammed her fist in to her hand and smiled. She put on her light blue romper with the see through train and slipped on socks carrying her boots down stairs. She kept her hair down holding ribbons in between her lips as she skipped down the hallway and sat on the stair railing, sliding down it like Mary Poppins did. As she landed at the bottom of the steps she found Mr. Pennyworth blinking at her then smile.

"Hello Miss Marinette. Are you hungry?" She gave him a nod with a smile. "I made French toast and eggs sunny side up." Her smile grew wider as she moved the ribbons to her hand and said thank you. He turned around and lead her to the dining room where all four boys sat with Cass, Selina, and a red head woman waiting for her.

'No school today?' Mari asked Cass. She smiled shook her head.

'Dad is keeping me out for the next week. Something about wanting me to stay home with family.'

'I see! Then think we can go to the park today?'Cass's eyes lit up then turned to her brothers. They were watching Mari as if expecting her to do something crazy. Cass eyed them suspiciously, then turned to Selina. Selina was also watching Mari in the same manner, only the red headed woman didn't seem to give much mind. Cass sighed then began to eat.

Marinette stared at her plate, trying to figure out what she was eating. Mr. Pennyworth said it was French Toast and eggs.. But... This looks like... Green vomit and burnt toast. She gave a twisted expression but picked up her fork and cut into "vomit" turning green seeing if break and drip apart off her fork. She felt sick, she knew Mr. Pennyworth put time into making her breakfast, so she closed her eyes and quickly took the fork into her mouth and swallowed it down. She tried to keep from thinking about the food she threw into her mouth. It taste like... Eggs... But... I feel sick.. She felt everyone's eyes burrowing into her and opened her own looking down at her plate finding the vomit and toast replaced with sugar covered French toast and yolk covered eggs.

It's really eggs and French toast... Excited and hungry she ate it hastenly forgetting all about her table manners as she ate.

øøøø

No one around the table was sure what to expect. When Ivy and Selina came back early this morning with a little vial and insisted Alfred make Marinette's food separate. They weren't sure it would work, but it had to be enough to at least get her to eat. They all waited at the table for Mari to come down to join them. The boys knew she would want to go back today and unfortunately what they are doing is complete kidnapping. When Marinette came down and joined them at the table ribbons and boots in hand, they watched her carefully.

'No school today?' She asked Cass who shook her head.

'Dad is keeping me out for the next week. Something about wanting me to stay home with family.' Cass said rolling her eyes slightly.

'I see! Then think we can go to the park today?' Cass liked the idea, they hadn't had time together since Mari was in a semi coma.

Damian leaned into Dick and whispered into his ear. Jason sat ready to jump at the chance to catch her if she ran for the door, and Tim just sipped his coffee watching over the cup. Cass turned to look at them to be brushed off. She scowled then turnes toward Selina and Ivy to receive the same response. I'll just wait for father to come home and ask. Alfred placed the plate of French toast and cooked egg in front of her and Mari and began to eat it. Mari however, just stared at it. Her face twisted and even slightly turned green. I wish I knew what she was seeing. Jason and Dami said she sees the food or drink in front of her differently and it makes her not eat.

She cut into the egg first, watching the yolk errupt all over the dish then quickly put it in her mouth and swallow. Each person at the table leaned on the edge of their seats staring at her hard. When Mari opened her eyes, a glow of green flashed in her eyes but was replaced with wide bright blue eyes. She smiled and devoured everything but her plate. Everyone gave a relieving sigh and began to to eat themselves.

Poor Alfred had to made Marinette two more plates of food but he seemed to be happy to do so. He went ahead and had Mari join him in the kitchen as he made them. Selina cleared her throat and everyone who stayed looked to her.

"This is a temporary situation. Without knowing how long she had been taking the drug and at what dosage, I was only able to counteract the appetite suppressant she was given." Ivy spoke in a soft voice for only the table to hear.

"What did you give her?" Damian asked first.

"Because she was given cocaine and Hoodia Gordonii, a catus-like succulent, I wasn't sure it would work. But I pretty much gave Marijuana." Ivy shrugged.

"Wait, you gave her a munchie drug to counter an addictive mind tripping drug?" Tim asked baffled for a second. "Doesn't that add to the addiction?"

"I won't get into this with you, however it got her to eat. The Hoodia Gordonii is greatly used in Africa to suppress hunger and make you feel full with only one bite. That was what I was countering Timothy." Ivy spoke with vinegar. "From my understanding of plants, the Erythroxylum coca, or cocaine plant, stimulate the brain and can help alter the mind of anyone under the influence." All four boys fell back in their seats and stared at their hands.

'So, you're saying Mari was, sorry is drugged this entire time and none of you have done anything?! You're freaking Robins!' The boys stared at Cass in disbelief. 'I learned about the drug addiction stuff just last week. Mari might not know she's addicted... What if she looks like two-face?' Cass's eyes was really wide. The image in her had made her shudder.

"We are working on it, the problem is like Ivy said, we don't know how long she has been in this state, and as far as we know it could have been from the beginning of time." Tim spoke up. Jason came out of his mind and spoke next.

"Cass, Dick and Damian are following an investigation that is related to Mari's situation, if they can find out who did it then it will be easier to get a cure for her. Tim and Selina are working with doctors and Ivy to create a cure for Mari." Damian settled in his seat trying to not get angry.

'Mystry Circus leaves the day after tomorrow. You're running out of time!' Cass was holding back her tears, angry and worried expressed all over her body and words.

"Hey, we promise you that we will find a way to help Mari. Even if it means, we kidnap her. Again." Dick said earning a coughing snicker from his brothers and Selina. Cass sighed got up from the table walking toward the kitchen and peeked in to see Mari happily eating her third plate. She turned around toward the boys, making herself look taller and older.

'She better be marrying one of you after this. Otherwise I will when I'm 18.' She said confidently then walked off to her room to change for the day.

øøøø

Selina and Ivy laughed hard against the table. After wiping away the tears that were made, Ivy stood up.

"I believe it's time I go. I'll work some more on the hunger remedy. Maybe we can re-alter her mind to see what she is told is in front of her." With that Selina walked Ivy to the door and gave her a hug.

"I'll find that jelly fish for you. It's going to be hard unless I fly to Australia." Selina whispered in her ear then walked back inside and to the boys. "So, who's going to marry my sister?" Each men looked at each other almost glaring then turned to Selina and raised their hands.

øøøø

The man clapped his hands together and sat with Mr. Casso.

"Thank you for housing me and my pet. Tomorrow night will be our last with Mystry Circus." His voice melted in his ears. "You have been such a huge contributer to my cause." The man walks away from the Ring leader's tent and headed to the red tent, making sure everything was back to normal in her tent and even pulled out her blackadybig leotard and skirt on the bed. He sniffed the article of clothing and sat on her bed, remembering their night together and smiled.

"This will be magnificent performance. In fact it will be to die for." He said to himself stroking the bed as if Marinette was there.

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

@starry-bi-sky @zebrabaker @wuvpancakes @18-fandoms-unite-08 @weird-pale-blonde-person @vivilakitty @novicevoice @northernbluetongue @luciferge @krispydefendorpolice @nomiegnome @persephonebutkore @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @magicalfirebird @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @dorkus-minimus @dur55 @disneyfoxuniverse @caffeinetheory @drarryismylife101 @shamefullove @yuulxd @moonlightstar64

#maribat #mlb x dc #escape to the circus #not soulmating :p #batfam

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the-voltage-diaries · 6 years ago

Text

Make Me Burn - Eisuke Ichinomiya [Request]

There you go, @leoamber66, @kbtbbposts, @stay-positive16

Warning: NSFW

“... fuck,” Eisuke said, scrunching up the note left by a certain someone on his bedside table before vanishing away into the early hours of the morning. ‘Let us forget what happened last night’, was what the note said. Glancing at the table clock to see it read 6:45 A.M., Eisuke got up to get started on the new day, trying his best to shake off the image of his secretary writhing under him in pleasure.

It had all started three days ago, when he had seen Elena, his then girlfriend, cheat on him. He had returned from his business trip two days early, hoping to surprise his girlfriend, spending time with her on the day he was born, 29 years ago. What he wasn’t prepared was the gift Elena gave him; a sight that broke him more than he thought he was capable of. There she was, the one he proudly called his, on his bed; naked, writhing in pleasure as some guy rammed himself into her like a hungry beast.

Elena, upon seeing Eisuke, had begged on her knees for forgiveness, promising to never cheat again. Eisuke had only pushed her away violently, having his trust broken... yet again. His body had turned cold and rigid, imitating his heart, and as he had turned around and walked away from Elena, he had lifted up a hand to wipe away the single tear that had managed to slip out.

Eisuke shook his head as he turned the shower on, wanting to get rid of the bitter taste the memory had left in his mouth. He flinched in pain as hot water came rushing down on his body, making his skin burn. He did nothing to stop the pain, for it made him feel alive. It made his dead soul realise that he was still capable of feeling emotions. He closed his eyes, remembering the face of his secretary, how her biting remarks turned into moans of pleasure as his fingers worked their magic on her last night.

After giving himself a day to calm down after facing Elena’s betrayal on his birthday, it was nearly eleven-thirty at night when Eisuke took out his mobile, wanting to ask Soryu to join him for a drink, venting out to him in the process. What he didn’t know was that he had accidentally sent that text to his secretary, (Y/N). It was when she had texted him back, agreeing to come up to the penthouse, had Eisuke realised who the text had gone to.

Fine. Give me 10 minutes. Eisuke kept looking at the text time and again, not believing that his generally closed-off secretary was actually willing to join him for a drink after work hours. Much to his shock and unexpected relief, she had come, that too in record time. Dressed in a hoodie and loose trousers, (Y/N) looked much more casual and approachable than she had ever looked in the 6 years he had known her.

Raising her eyebrows in amusement, she had said, “Are you planning to keep me out here the whole time or what?” Smirking, she had pushed him aside by his shoulder, making herself at home in his living room. Eisuke wasn’t the least bit bothered though, for they had gotten pretty close in the six years she had served him as his secretary. He could probably even say that after Soryu, she was the most trusted person on his list.

“You sure do seem comfortable, Ms. Secretary,” Eisuke flashed his usual smirk, feeling better already for some reason. Grabbing two glasses of champagne from the table, he passed one over to (Y/N) before sitting down on the couch, some distance away from her.

“What’s wrong, Ichinomiya? You’re not the one to just text anyone so late at night, asking them to have a drink with you ‘cause you want to talk,” She said, taking a sip from her glass. After bantering with her for a while about knowing him, he took a deep breath, finally deciding to let it out.

“So, Elena and I broke up,” He said, looking up to see (Y/N)’s eyes go wide with shock. Before she could ask why, he answered it, “She cheated on me. I found her fucking some stranger, in my goddamn bed.”

“THE FUCK?!” (Y/N) had screamed, not believing her ears. Eisuke seemed shocked too, for he had never heard (Y/N) curse in all these years. “But... she was the one who hinted at marrying you, right? For god’s sake, you even brought her a ring to surprise her!”

Eisuke and Elena had been dating for five long years, and just as (Y/N) had said, Eisuke had wanted to marry Elena. She had been his everything, his support, his rock, his companion, his best friend, everything. But this was before she cheated on him.

After telling (Y/N) everything that had happened two days ago, he took a deep breath, waiting for his secretary to say something. As he looked over to his (Y/N)’s face processing everything, realisation of him trusting her enough to tell her everything struck him down hard. Just a few hours ago he had thought about everyone betraying him, but here he was, looking across at a face showing genuine anger for something that had happened to him, not (Y/N).

Slowly as the night progressed, one glass had turned into one too many, and before either of them could do anything, they both were drunk. Looking across at (Y/N), Eisuke felt some sort of heat in his chest. She had stuck by his side like glue even when shit had gone down, never once backing away from trusting him.

Once I trust someone, it’s hard to break it, Mr. Ichinomiya, she had said. As Eisuke kept looking at her slightly flushed face, probably matching his own, he could only think of the deep sense of security and safety she had silently offered him in all the long years, ever since the day he had gained her trust. Had anything ever gone wrong, somewhere in his heart, Eisuke had felt assured that he’d have (Y/N) by his side every time. She had not broken that faith even that night.

Feeling unexplained emotions, Eisuke had suddenly felt the urge to kiss (Y/N) thin lips, the ones that always had a sarcastic retort at ready. He suddenly felt the urgent need to kiss her neck, mark her as his, and his only. He wanted to run his fingers down her sides, he wanted to watch (Y/N), who always looked so poised and composed, come undone.

His eyes widened as the word came to his mind for what he was feeling - desire. Strong, unguarded desire. Little did he know, (Y/N) wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. She had never dared to utter a word, but even (Y/N) felt attraction towards her boss, but not because of those riches he loved to show off. She liked him because he had showed his vulnerable moments. He had proven that he was a human too, and he had his fair share of anxiety and breakdowns too. But the day Eisuke had introduced her to his then girlfriend, Elena, was the day when she had decided to bury her emotions within her forever. Now, though, as she sat there on the couch of Eisuke’s penthouse suite’s living room, she could feel the lid to her raw affection for him slowly come undone.

While she was busy wondering all this, she had failed to notice Eisuke close in on her, tugging on her wrist to pull her towards him, and before she could get her wits about her and stop her emotions from running amok, Eisuke had tugged her in by the waist, planting his soft lips firmly on her thin ones. Her eyes widened in surprise, before they closed on their own, her lips moving to kiss him back.

As Eisuke’s hands traveled along her sides, her eyes opened wide once again, her hands pushing Eisuke away, “Eisuke, no--”

“Shh already,” Eisuke said, grabbing her wrists and returning his lips to the place they were at before; her lips. Eisuke’s passionate kisses turned gentle, as if coaxing (Y/N) to relax into him, his tongue prodding at her mouth, aching to meet her own.

Eisuke’s kiss did it’s magic on (Y/N), as she closed her eyes, relaxing into him, trusting him to handle everything. Just once. Even if he can be mine for one night, please, let him, she thought, parting her lips and allowing Eisuke’s tongue to entwine with her own, rubbing against each other, their lips in perfect harmony.

Things gradually turned from gentle to heated as they made their way to his bedroom, discarding their inhibitions in the process. Once they were standing near the bed, Eisuke slowly took off (Y/N)’s hoodie, taking his time to let the picture of (Y/N), nearly half naked, with the water from the aquarium reflecting off of her toned abdomen in the dark of the room. As soon as he had taken her hoodie off, she pulled him close, kissing his lips, trying to quench her desires.

The sight of (Y/N) in her black sports bra, matching trousers, and messy open hair turned Eisuke on more than any female had ever done. He went on his knees, looking up at her, in her eyes, smirking as he kissed just below her belly button, his fingers tugging at her trousers, slowly pulling them down, his lips following the path.

(Y/N) whimpered, her fingers finding Eisuke’s hair, pulling him up as soon as her trousers hit her ankles, her fingers busy undoing the buttons on Eisuke’s shirt, kissing his collarbones, chest and abs and more of his skin peeked out. Eisuke was now more turned on than ever, for this woman did something to him. Her kisses made him feel not only heated, but also in some sense, safe. He felt he could be himself with (Y/N), in a sense that he didn’t even feel with Elena.

Grabbing (Y/N)’s face, he kissed the daylights out of her in an attempt to get rid of the overly emotional thoughts. He smiled when he found her lips kissing him back with the same fervor. Her fingers went down to lightly stoke along the outline of Eisuke’s crotch, making him groan from the sudden touch. She smirked, her touch becoming a little more firm as Eisuke’s hands traveled down to her abdomen, his fingers stoking her sides, making her whimper.

Her fingers took their time in undoing his pants, increasing his frustration at the lack of her touch. As soon as she had gotten his pants out of the way, he pushed her on the bed, his lips finding themselves at her ankles, slowly kissing their way up her smooth skin. His underwear felt tighter as he looked down at the beauty under him, in her black bra and matching panties, her hands gripping the sheets tighter with each touch of Eisuke’s lips. He got up, and freed the sheets from her grasp, placing her wrists on his shoulders. Eisuke kissed under her earlobe, nearly coming undone just from the mewl (Y/N) let out.

Going back to her knees, Eisuke continued to kiss her legs as his fingers played with her sides; one of her soft spots. Kissing his way up to her inner thighs, he took his time, smelling her oh-so-inviting core. Looking down, he saw a small dark patch already forming on her panties. Smirking, he gave the spot a light peck, internally shivering at (Y/N)’s responsive groan.

His lips went back to hers and his fingers worked to take off her bra, leaving her top half bare for him to etch into his memory. Bending down to kiss her right nipple, he whispered, loud enough for her to hear, “Spread your legs.”

As soon as she had followed his command, his right hand went down to stroke the wet area over her panties, making a shiver run up her spine. His fingers continued to massage her folds while his mouth was busy kissing her neck, his other hand focusing on pleasuring her left breast. (Y/N) whimpered from the amount of pleasure she was receiving, when she felt Eisuke’s fingers slip inside her panties.

A moan left her lips and Eisuke’s middle finger entered her folds, his thumb finding her clit. He rubbed circles around her clit, making her arch her back in absolute ecstasy. before Eisuke could go on though, (Y/N) flipped them over, making him lie under her, her hands slowly moving down to his. Eisuke closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of (Y/N)’s fingers massaging his balls, the friction caused by the fabric of his underwear adding to the pleasure. Her hands slipped inside his boxers, gripping his already hard member, as she slowly began to stroke him. She increased her pace as she felt his release coming, but then slowed down.

Eisuke, frustrated, flipped the over once again, removing his boxers and her panties completely in the process. The both of them were way too turned on and frustrated for any more games now, and he entered her with one stroke, making her moan out loud. He groaned, enjoying the tightness and warmth (Y/N)’s core offered him, his fingers toying with her clit.

(Y/N) screamed, her body not used to so much stimulation, and her fingers gripped Eisuke’s hair, holding onto him. Her hips rose up to match his rhythm, the both of them losing their hold on reason when faced with desire.

Eisuke rocked into her, getting even more turned on when her fingers started plying with his nipples, twisting and rubbing them, and he rammed himself into her harder with each passing second. The both of them melted into each other as their orgasms rocked through their bodies, making them see white.

Eisuke fell on top of (Y/N), enjoying the feeling of her heated body against his own. Taking a moment to come down from his high, he laid down beside (Y/N), wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her to him, finally drifting off to sleep after two long, sleepless nights.

This morning, (Y/N) woke up to find herself in a certain someone’s embrace, the events of the previous night flooding her mind as her eyes widened in horror: she had slept with THE Eisuke Ichinomiya. Quickly getting out and dressing up, she left a not by his bedside asking him to forget that night ever happened, wanting to die in a hole of embarrassment. As soon as she had written the note, she rushed back to her place to get ready for another official day.

Dressed in a grey shirt, black trousers and black suit jacket, (Y/N) was busy typing away at her laptop when she heard the door to the office open. Getting up to greet her boss, she tried her best to not let the memories of the previous night affect her.

As she turned to walk out of his cabin, Eisuke grasped her wrist and pulled her back, much to her surprise. Turning around, she was about to push him away when he pulled her close by the waist, whispering something in her ear that made her eyes widen with shock as she felt a chill run down her spine.

“You are now my girlfriend.”

#eisuke ichinomiya #kbtbb #smut #kissed by the baddest bidder #cheating #make #me #burn #fanfiction #soryu oh

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seasonofthegeek · 6 years ago

Text

Love Keeps You Warm: Blogging

Written for Alyadrininette Week at @mlshipfleet <3

Parts 1, 2, 3. 4, 5:

“Okay, I have my appointment today at eleven-fifteen,” Marinette whispered, leaning close to Alya as the other woman poured creamer into her mug. “Can you come with me?”

“Of course I can.” She gave her a quick hug and turned back to her coffee. “And you’re sure we’re not saying anything yet?” Alya kept her voice low as she glanced over Marinette’s shoulder at Adrien and Nino sitting at the breakfast table. “You know they will come if we ask.”

“I think I just want to know from the doctor to be sure first. I don’t want to give anyone false hope or…” She trailed off and dropped her gaze.

“Five tests aren’t going to be wrong,” she warned.

“I know, but…” Marinette bit her lip and her eyes grew shiny.

“Okay, hey, okay.” She pulled her into another hug and spoke against her hair. “Everything’s going to be fine, Mari.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Nino set his plate in the sink and picked up the bottle of turtle treats beside the large aquarium set up at the end of the counter. He shook two out and reached his hand in to offer them to Wayzz. The old turtle studied the hand for a moment before beginning a slow creep towards it while Nino patiently waited.

“Just girl stuff.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Girl stuff?”

“Yep. Girl stuff.”

“As in ‘mind my own business’ girl stuff,” Nino nodded. “Got it.” He frowned when he caught Marinette’s worried expression. “But you’ll tell me if you need me, right?”

“Yep,” Alya repeated firmly.

Adrien squeezed past Nino to drop off his own dishes in the sink and he started running the water to wash them. “Hey, Marinette, do you want to grab lunch today before Nino and I go to work? I’ve been thinking of that little deli we found when we were by the park a few weeks ago. It’s been a while since you and I got to go out alone.”

Marinette covered her mouth and looked at Alya with wide, panicked eyes.

“We’re already doing lunch, Sunshine, but how about a rain check?” Alya leaned in to kiss his cheek and then quickly led Marinette out of the cramped kitchen and back to their bedroom.

“Is it just me or are they acting weird?” Nino dropped the second treat into the aquarium for later and thrust his hands under the running water before he grabbed the soap. “They’ve been like this for days now.”

Adrien’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I thought it was just me still. I’m kind of glad they’re treating you that way too.”

“Thanks, dude.”

He shot Nino a sheepish smile. “You know what I mean.” ______________________________

Marinette held her breath as the doctor slid the ultrasound wand along the goo covering her stomach.

“Sometimes it takes a minute to find,” the doctor said in a reassuring tone. “It’s a really small target.”

Alya squeezed Marinette’s hand and they both softly gasped when a fast thumping sound came through the speaker on the machine at the side of the bed.

“There we go.” The doctor adjusted slightly and watched the screen. “That tiny little blip right there.” He used a tool to make a circle around a grainy blur against a background of black to the left of the screen. “That’s your baby.”

“And this is the heartbeat?” Marinette breathed. “It’s so fast. Is…is that normal?”

“Perfectly normal. It will even get a little faster before it drops back down. Sounds good and healthy.”

She blinked back tears. “That’s our baby.” She looked up at Alya and her bottom lip trembled. “They should’ve been here for this. This is all my fault.”

“I’ll get a picture printed off for you and be back in a few minutes. There are wipes on the counter,” the doctor said, giving Alya a knowing nod before he excused himself.

Alya immediately went to the wipes and handed one to Marinette. “Get cleaned up, M. How do you feel?”

“Guilty.”

“We got to hear our baby’s heartbeat. Wasn’t it amazing?”

She swallowed hard. “It was beautiful.”

“And the doctor is going to bring us the first picture we will ever have of them.”

Marinette gave her a teary nod. “Yeah. We should get a frame.”

“We can do that when we leave here. And tonight, we’ll show it to Nino and Adrien, okay? As soon as they get home from work.”

“What if Adrien’s mad at me?” she whispered.

“Did you trick him into having sex?”

Marinette blinked. “No, of course not.”

“Did he fight you about not wearing a condom?”

“Well, no…”

“Okay, then.”

“Yeah, but Alya—“

“Nope.” She held up a hand. “It’s very possible this baby isn’t even biologically his and we aren’t going to do eight months of drama. If he wants to be a father, he can be. If he doesn’t, he won’t be. We’re still going to love Adrien. And I’m going to be right here beside you and you know Nino will be too. That kid is going to be covered in love.”

Marinette sniffled but started wiping the ultrasound goo off her stomach. “You’re right. We’re going to love this baby so much.”

“Damn straight.”

“And Nino is going to be the sweetest daddy.” Marinette sat up and swung her legs over the side of the exam table. “And we’re going to be good moms, right?”

“We’re going to do the very best we can.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! We can go shopping now!”

“There’s my girl,” Alya grinned, pulling her close for a kiss. ______________________________

“Okay, so this blog says something totally different from the other one,” Alya groaned. “Why can’t everyone just agree on the foods to avoid during pregnancy?”

“The doctor gave me this list.” Marinette searched through the stack of papers she had on the dining room table and lifted up a sheet. “It’s pretty easy to follow, I think.”

“I know but I wanted to check the blogs too.”

“Listen to you,” she teased. “Checking ‘the blogs’. You’re going to be a mommy blogger, aren’t you? You’re going to be a Pinterest mom with perfect Instagram photos.”

“You will take that back or we’re breaking up right here and right now.”

“I wonder what you’ll call your mommy blog,” Marinette continued. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Since your other blog is ‘Bread Makes You Fat’, you obviously have to play with ‘Bun in the Oven’.”

“I’m ignoring you now.” Alya opened up three new blogs from a recommended search.

The other woman quieted down and shuffled the papers in front of her. “They should be home soon, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you nervous?”

Alya gave her half a smile. “A little. How about you?”

Marinette worried her lip. “I really don’t want to lose him.”

“We aren’t going to lose him.”

“We could.”

At that moment, the door opened and both women jumped in surprise. Alya quickly stood and moved into the living room with Marinette following a little behind. “You guys are home early.”

“Yeah, we were scouting out two possible venues for one of the events I have to plan in a couple of months.” Adrien dropped his soft briefcase by the door. “One of the venues got booked before we could put in our dates so it made the choice really easy.”

“We were talking about how hungry we are. Did you guys have something planned for dinner or should we order in?” Nino walked past them all to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. He slowed on his way back as his gaze fell on the papers covering the dining table. “What is all this?”

“Um, well, we actually need to tell you guys something.” Marinette wrung her hands together anxiously and Alya touched the small of her back.

“Maybe we can sit down for a minute before we talk about dinner?”

Nino looked at them with wide eyes. His mouth worked but no sound came out as he looked back down at the papers.

“Come sit, Nino,” Alya urged, patting the armchair by the couch.

Adrien dropped down beside Marinette as Nino moved to join them. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

With an encouraging nod from Alya, Marinette began. “Um, well, I’ve been a little off lately.”

“Yeah, we were worried about that actually.” Adrien took her hand and shot Nino a concerned look but the other man’s eyes stayed on Marinette and Alya. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, yes.” Her voice wavered. “Everything’s really great actually. I’m…I’m pregnant.”

He froze beside her. “I…”

“That’s amazing.” Nino knelt down in front of the couch so he could see all three of them. “Tell us everything.” He shifted to the side and pressed his shoulder against Adrien’s knees as if keeping him in place.

Marinette glanced anxiously at Adrien. He still held her hand limply in his so she left it. “Well, Alya’s the one who realized actually. I’ve been moody and had food aversions and stomach aches and then we saw that I was over a week late for my last period.”

“You guys were working late that night so we went out and got pregnancy tests,” Alya added.

“Late?” Nino frowned. “Wait, last week?”

They nodded in unison.

“I didn’t want to say anything until I saw a doctor though,” Marinette continued. “I wanted to make sure it was real. That’s why I’ve been a basket case the past few days.”

“Even though I told her five positive pregnancy tests were definitely real,” Alya said as she rose off the couch. She went to the table and shifted around the papers and books until she found a picture frame and brought it back to them. “But we were able to listen to the heartbeat and get our first picture.” She offered the frame to Nino and he swallowed loudly as he looked down at it.

“This inside the circle? That’s the baby?” he asked in a shaky voice.

Marinette nodded. “I’ll be nine weeks on Tuesday. The doctor said the heartbeat sounds good and healthy.”

“Nine weeks,” Adrien murmured.

“Yeah, around the time of your little unsafe threesome,” Alya replied cutting her eyes to him. “Marinette told me all about it and I have to say that I’m jealous and hurt.”

“Alya,” Marinette groaned, covering her face.

“What? I deserve a striptease too. It’s been so long.” She smiled at Adrien but he didn’t look up from the ultrasound photo Nino was still holding.

“That was…you were still working for Joseph then,” he said, tone too even for the situation.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Marinette blushed. “So when I had my whole unemployed and need to be pregnant breakdown, it turns out I already was.”

“That means the baby could be either of ours…if it was from that night that we...”

“It can be both of ours either way.” Nino held out the picture frame and Adrien took it with visibly shaking hands. Nino stood and pulled Marinette into a hug. “I’m so happy, sweetheart. I’m so…I don’t even know what to say.” He pulled back to look down at her. “How are you feeling about all this?”

She felt herself melt under his touch. Things were so easy with Nino. “I’m really happy,” she smiled, feeling tears prick her eyes. She’d been so tired of crying but seeing the look on his face and shine in his eyes, it didn’t seem so bad to do it again. They stared at each other for a few long seconds and then Nino opened his arm to pull Alya into the hug. “And how do you feel?”

“Like we’re about to get a whole lot busier.” Alya rested her head against Marinette’s and let out a happy hum. “I’m excited. I can’t wait to meet our baby.”

The trio turned their attention to Adrien who was still sitting on the couch and staring down at the framed ultrasound. Marinette said his name softly and his head whipped up, his expression unreadable. Nino and Marinette opened their arms and he jolted up and buried his face against her neck, whispering words no one could quite make out.

Buy me a cherry coke?

#Alyadrininette Week #alyadrininette #bread makes you fat

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bonnissance · 7 years ago

Note

fic title: rivers and roads

[i said if ya hit me w a fic title and i’d clap back w a drabble]

roads and rivers (is how we ended up here), Serena/Bernie (Holby City [part of the we can share a heartbeat for the night (share our hearts for the rest of our lives) aka they meet on the maternity ward AU also aka the Bernie/Marcus/Serena throuple verse but currently absent Marcus]) teen, 3.5k+ big shout out to Lo for the title and also beta-ing 💖 tags: family outings, friends to lovers, first kiss, soft gay feels.

‘God, I’m not looking forward to holidays,’ Serena huffs, shoulders slumping, on the other side of the table. ‘I mean, I am—it’ll be nice for the kids to have some times off and I know they’re excited—but I’m dreading Ellie stomping around the house and terrorising the nanny when she’s bored.’

Bernie barks out a laugh before Serena pins her with a glare.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ she apologises, palms up in surrender. She sucks in a shaky breath and stares at the mug cradled in her hand; ponders a few moments before offering up an idea.

‘You could always try tiring her out before the holidays start? Take her out shopping on your weekend off, make a day of it and don’t let her catch on you’re bribing her for good behaviour.’

She looks up to see Serena smiling like the sun.

‘God, Bernie, that’s brilliant. Oh, we could go to London!’ She’s so bright Bernie has to look away, proud smile on her own lips, congratulating herself on a good idea. ‘You should come too!’

Bernie’s head shoots back up and she blinks.

‘Oh come on, don’t look at me like that, when was the last time you left Holby?’ Bernie opens her mouth to reply. ‘Christmas doesn’t count!’ Bernie closes her mouth. ‘And you said Cam’s friends were going camping that weekend?’ Bernie nods. ‘So with Marcus away till next month it’ll just be you and Lottie in the house. Oh, please? The girls would love it, and you could use a change of scenery.’

Bernie mulls it over, nibbling her bottom lip, looks up at Serena’s hopeful face and knows she could never say no. She nods with a huff. ‘Fine, fine!’ She’s too far away to prod Serena in the chest so settles for pointing at her and glaring. ‘But if this is just a ruse to take me shopping, don’t expect me to come quietly.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ Serena shakes her head, face suddenly solemn. ‘But…if we do end up clothes shopping,’ she starts and Bernie rolls her eyes. ‘I promise you can sit it out and, I don’t know, you can hold my coat or something.’

Bernie considers the offer, thinking it over as she looks at Serena’s shy, hopeful face, finally relenting with a curt nod. She gets a shining smile as reward and drinks it in, sitting back in her chair with a smirk and letting Serena’s voice wash over her, as she rambles about all the places they might visit.

Bernie drives them to the station just past the crack of dawn; Serena wide eyed and excited while the girls grumbling in the back seat. They don’t stop whining until Serena flicks on the stereo and starts blaring the Spice Girls—their newest obsession—and starts singing at the top of her lungs to drown them out.

Bernie joins in the singing and girls start yelling, giggling, squealing, as Bernie warbles through wrong lyric after wrong lyric, but continues on regardless. They’re all in stitches by the time they get to the station—ten minutes earlier than ten minutes early—tears streaming down their faces as Bernie powers through the rest of the song.

Serena is still giggling as she buys their tickets, Bernie is still humming as she waits with the girls on the platform, Charlotte and Elinor still singing and now dancing as the train draws due.

Serena joins them with three minutes to spare, two coffees in a tray and paper bag stuffed with pastries, to find them still dancing. She grumbles about children having far too much energy for this time of day and Bernie smiles at the false irritation. Bernie may be an early riser but she’s as keen for an early morning snooze as the next woman; it’s Serena’s who’s consistently awake in the early morning, even when she doesn’t need to be, and she’s always chipper once she’s had her coffee.

Serena flicks her eyes to the time—one minute out—and then to the tray in her hand. Bernie sees the longing, hungry look in Serena’s eyes, know she won’t drink till they’re sitting, and prays the train isn’t delayed.

It isn’t, thankfully; it’s right on schedule, in fact. Apparently so are they, Bernie realises, when Serena pulls out an itinerary out of her handbag two minutes after they step off the train in London and starts rattling off the list of places they’re going to see today.

Bernie’s not sure what else she expected—of course Serena has a schedule, of course she organised things to make they won’t miss anywhere that girls asked to visit, that she wants to see, or the one place Bernie mentioned she’d like to go—and Bernie follows along willingly, keeping their brood together and trailing behind Serena as they roam around the city.

It’s far more efficient that her “wander around until something seems fun” approach to family outings—the way that always makes Marcus sigh but the children cackle with glee, trying their luck as they tug on Bernie’s hand towards yet another ice cream store, fingers still sticky from the last daytime dessert—she’s happy to carry the sandwiches in her backpack. She likes that Serena has forgiven her for the last debacle, that she trusts Bernie to keep them all feed this time.

She’s reconsidering her gratitude by the time they reach the aquarium. This place might have been Bernie’s idea but she’s certain she’s got blisters forming under blisters, lunchtime feels miles away, and all she wants to do it sit down and strap some bandaids to her toes.

She keeps her grumbles to herself as they walk through the corridors: she sees Charlotte spark up as a shark swims overhead, sees Ellie walk up close to a sting ray with her mouth gaping open, sees Serena silently coo over a cluster of nudibranch. Sees them enjoy themselves and all is forgiven.

She and Serena do their best to keep an eye on the kids racing over the mesh flooring, echoes reverberates around the glass cases as they marvel at all the underwater creatures. She has to remind Ellie not to tap on the glass three times, till Lottie starts doing it for her, as they wanders past tank after tank, filled to the brim with aquatic life. She finds herself standing beside Serena more and more with each passing room, till they exit, elbows brushing, and walk out into the gift shop as a group.

They walk along the side of the Thames, crossing over Westminster Bridge. Serena stop in the middle—calls out to the children to wait a moment—and leans against the railing. Bernie sidles up next to her, a child on either side of them, and they all look out over the water.

Bernie closes her eyes, to soak in the sun, as they bask in happy silence. A few minutes later she feels someone tap on her arm; opens her eyes to see Serena smiling at her, Lottie yanking on Serena’s hand, Ellie a few feet behind them and further way.

‘Come on!’ she urges, stumbling backwards, beckoning Bernie forward, laughing loud. ‘The kids are hungry.’

Bernie rushes to catch up, blinking sunspots out of her eyes; slips her hand into Lottie’s, still clinging tight to Serena. She smiles as they they both raise her daughter off the ground without a word, as she laughs long and loud, swinging an arc between them.

They settle in the speckled shade of a silver birch—Elinor’s choice—the light breeze offering further respite from the summer sun as they munch on the picnic Serena cobbled them together.

Serena starts snacking on a punnet of strawberries half way through her egg and cress and Bernie nicks the other half of her sandwich—Serena catches her in the act, doesn’t say a word, eyes sparking—and offers her a strawberry.

Bernie leans forward, her thieving hands full, bites into the pink flesh, just shy of the green top, groaning as the tang washes over her tongue. She sits back as she chews, swallows, content; splays out onto her back and stares up at the clouds.

She only sits up when she remembers she has another half a sandwich to eat. Sits up to see Serena smiling at her fondly before popping the last strawberry in her mouth.

‘Where are we going next, Mum?’ Ellie pipes up when she’s finished her sandwich. Serena hums thoughtful and pulls out the schedule; Bernie can’t help groaning.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that,’ she mumbles when Serena’s head snaps towards her, looking away to pick at the edge of the blanket. ‘It’s been a lovely day, really.’

Serena smiles gently and reaches over to pat the top of Bernie’s hand. ‘I was going to say…’ Bernie looks at her, curious and suspicious, and Serena quirks an eyebrow. ‘That we can do whatever we like with the afternoon. Personally, I’m hoping for a snooze and then a quiet train trip home,’ she says glibly, eyeing Bernie knowingly, smirking when Bernie starts to blush.

‘Oh, um, that sounds nice,’ Bernie mumbles, grateful and embarrassed in equal measure. ‘I’ll keep on eye on everything while you have a kip?’

Serena nods, settles down on the rug, kicking the backpack onto the grass as she stretches out her legs. Bernie yanks the bag towards her to use as a pillow as they girls run off to play faeries. Bernie lies down, perfect vantage perfect for watching the girls chase each other around tree trunks, while Serena naps beside her.

The trip home is uneventful, Lottie half asleep against Serena’s shoulder and Ellie bopping in her seat beside Bernie.

The conductor announces Holby Station next stop and Bernie straps herself back into the backpack and bundles Charlotte into her arms; takes the lead while Serena checks the seats and ushers Elinor up the corridor and holds her hand as they wait in front of the door.

It takes them a minute or so to realise they’ve stood up far too early and Bernie’s arms ache by the time the door open and they step out onto the platform. She breathes in she adjusts her daughter on her hips: Holby air has never smelt so sweet.

Serena sneaks behind the wheel while Bernie straps Charlotte into the backseat; her eyes sparkle mischief as Bernie sinks into the passenger seat.

Bernie decidedly does not look at Serena as she clips her seatbelt, shuffles herself comfortable, and stares out the window. As if she hadn’t had enough of that on the train ride home.

Serena snort, starts the car, starts driving them home; takes one left turn too many and pulls up outside Bernie’s favourite curry house. Bernie turns to finally look at her, brow furrowed, as Serena leans over to rummage around in her handbag.

‘In you go,’ Serena urges, shoving her wallet into Bernie’s hand. ‘Unless you feel like cooking tonight? Because I’m certainly not.’

Bernie hums agreement, smiling; steps out onto the curb and starts practicing their order memorised long ago.

It’s still light when they pull into Bernie’s driveway but both children are fast asleep, lulled by the low radio and hum of the road after a long day. Bernie bundles out of the car first and opens the back door as quietly as she can, unclips Ellie and scoops her up gently. Ellie snuffles as she flops her head into the crook of Bernie’s arm and Serena’s head pops up over the roof of the car.

‘I can carry her,’ she says, shutting the car door behind her.

Bernie shakes her head gently. ‘I’ve already got her.’ She walks around the car towards the footpath to Serena’s house. ‘You get the door and keep Lottie company till I get back?’

‘I’ll grab her, they can bunk in together,’ Serena says as her keys jangle in her hand. ‘It’ll be a nice excuse to have pancakes for breakfast,’ she adds cheerily, bustling past Bernie on her way back to the car.

Bernie leaves the front door open and flicks on a few lights on her way to the playroom; she’s tucking Ellie into the bottom bunk when Serena walks in.

‘Oh, leave me the hard job,’ Serena huffs good naturedly—they both know Charlotte always takes the top bunk— as she readjusts the sleeping child on her hip. ‘How’m supposed to get her up there?’

‘Here,’ Bernie says, arms out, walking forward with a smile. ‘Let me.’

She grips Lottie under the arms, pulls her out of Serena’s, hauls her up high and plonks her behind into the top mattress. Serena bends down to check on Ellie as Bernie slips of Lottie’s shoes before ushering her awake enough to crawl into bed.

Charlotte settles as Serena stands up on her tiptoes, tucking her as she says good night.

‘Night, mum,’ Lottie mumbles sleepily and Bernie sidles up to Serena.

‘Night sweetie,’ she says, stroking Charlotte’s hair. ‘You too, Ellie.’

Elinor responds with a snore. The two adults bite back a round of giggles; pad towards the hall, switch off the light, shut the door quietly behind them.

‘God, I could murder a glass of wine,’ Serena says as she pads down the stairs half an hour later, freshly showered and newly clothed. She walks into the kitchen to find a glass of shiraz already breathing on the bench. ‘Oh, you angel!’ she exclaims as Bernie rummages through the cutlery draw to find forks for dinner.

Bernie looks up through her fringe, smiling shy: she likes making Serena happy. ‘Thought you could do with a reward after today,’ she says with a shrug. ‘You wrangled us all day and bought dinner.’

‘Too right,’ Serena replies with a smirk, picking up the glass and breathing in the aroma. She hums, contented, takes her first sip before leaning against the bench. ‘Need any help?’

‘Nope, got everything.’ Bernie shakes her head, a touch proud of being so on top of things. ‘You just drink your wine.’

‘Guess I shall then.’ Serena smiles against the lip of her glass and looks out the kitchen window. ‘Seems like a it’ll be a nice night, fancy eating outside?’

Bernie looks over her shoulder, sees the clouds primrose and peach against a cyan sky, turns back with a nod. ‘Get the door and I’ll bring it out.’

Serena winks, grabs the wine, opens up the back door; settles the bottle and her glass on the table and scurries back to the kitchen. She grabs a bag of food off the bench, blatantly ignoring Bernie’s protests that she can manage on her own, and scampers back outside with their bag of sides.

She sits down and helps herself to naan, happily munching away as Bernie joins her with everything else. They spread it all out on the table, Bernie making sure the tikka masala is nearest to Serena while Serena shuffles things until the lamb vindaloo is by Bernie’s right elbow. They pick and chose from the array as they load up their plates.

Serena claims the last of the butter chicken and Bernie reaches over to steal a piece of meat; ends up with the largest bit on Serena’s plate and stammers an apology—she only wanted some—while Serena laughs and pushes Bernie’s fork away. Bernie relents, accepts the offer, and makes sure Serena gets the last vegetable pakora.

They’re both stuffed by the time they mop up the last of sauce.

Serena sits back with a heavy sigh, rubbing her stomach, and picks up her wine. Bernie stacks the plates, taking them back inside before Serena can find it in her to move, and dumps in them in the sink to deal with later.

She grabs a second glass and heads back outside, notices the royal blue of the sky and darkening cloud, and switches on the outside porch light; thinks about cloud watching of that afternoon, turns around to grab the throw from the back of the couch, strides past Serena and the table and out into the middle of the grass.

She flaps out the blanket, smooth it down; turns to beckon Serena over, brandishing her empty glass.

‘Come on then,’ she urges, and Serena giggles, eyes delighted, grabs her glass and rushes to join, pouring Bernie’s glass before she settling down next to her.

Bernie counts the last drops of the bottle dripping into Serena’s glass, both their faces tinged pink and smiling. She shakes to shift the last, stubborn, fourteenth drop, splashing it onto Serena’s hand. She laughs as Serena’s tough darts out to lick it off the flesh by her thumb, feels her cheeks flush as Serena moans appreciatively.

‘Think we’ll need another bottle?’ Bernie prompts, already shifting her weight to stand, assuming the answer.

She pauses a Serena actually mulls it over before replying. ‘Maybe one more glass?’

Bernie nods and jumps up, smiling; walks back inside and pokes around the wine rack until she finds the second bottle of the label they’ve just drank—she knows Serena always buys in pairs—and barks triumphant when she finds it.

She trudges back outside, grabbing another blanket on the way; lets Serena deal with the cork while she drapes the throw over Serena’s shoulder.

She sits down, passes over her glass, and huddles in close as Serena’s pours. She reaches out to take back the glass and the blanket falls off her shoulders; she grumbles as she pulls it right and holds it tight as she sips, as Serena sips.

She tries not to grumble as the blanket keeps falling off Serena’s shoulders, to drop low on her back with each mouthful; knows she fails when Serena flicks off the blanket with a huff and necks the last third of her glass.

‘Sorry, Serena, I didn’t—’ Bernie cuts herself off as Serena rolls onto her knees, shaking her head, and unwraps the blanket from Bernie’s shoulders. She plonks back to sitting, shuffles down to the middle of the rug; flicks the blanket down over her feet, and holds the other side up.

Serena turns back to look at Bernie, eyes expectant. ‘Come on then, hurry up,’ she says, eyes on Bernie’s half full glass. ‘It’s cold.’

Bernie blinks, smiles, skulls her wine; wiggles in beside Serena and follows her lead to lay down. She breaths deep and feels her body relax against the ground, lying beside Serena, looking up at the night sky, at the twinkling stars, crickets chirping in the night air.

‘Did I ever mentioned Ellie went through an astronomy phase when we were in America?’ Serena asks, breaking their silence after long minutes of stargazing. Bernie hums out a ‘maybe’—the fact sounds familiar but she’s not sure if she knew before now—and Serena chuckles. ‘Well she did, went mad for it for good two months until she got bored—it was quite impressive actually—and dragged me along too. I ended up learning quite a lot. I wonder…’ she trails off for a few moments, humming to herself, before pointing towards a cluster above her head.

‘Here, see this one?’ Bernie tilts her chin up to see better. ‘That’s Pegasus. And that one.’ Serena moves to points up into the sky right above them and Bernie drops her chin. ‘That’s Hercules.’

‘I’ve heard of them,’ Bernie pipes up and Serena chuckles. Bernie can see her eyes crinkle in the dark.

‘And over there, those three stars,’ she adds, reaching across Bernie to point down towards their toes, her body curling closer as Bernie follows her finger. ‘That’s you!’ she says brightly, giggling at her own joke. ‘Well, your hair anyway,’ she corrects herself, dropping her hand. She props herself up on her elbow and looks down at Bernie. ‘But I expect you already knew that…’

Bernie shakes her head. ‘I always zoned out whenever people started talking about my name, to be honest. There’s a play as well?’ Serena nods and Bernie shrugs. ‘Haven’t the foggiest about either.’

‘Ah, well then, Berenice was an Egyptian Queen,’ Serena starts with a smile, checks to see if recognition registers on Bernie’s face: there’s a flicker and not much more, but it’s a start, and Serena charges ahead. ‘Right, so, her second husband—the first shagged her mother and she had him assassinated, I know! Riveting stuff,’ Serena adds in a rush as Bernie blinks, astounded, at the aside. ‘So husband went to wage war with Syria so she cut off all her hair and offered it to Aphrodite in exchange for his safe return, and it worked!’

‘Lucky lady,’ Bernie quips. ‘Maybe I should have held off on the trim, the rest of it might have come in handy now,’ she muses, smushing her chin into her chest to try and get a look at her cropped curls.

‘Too bad you already offered it to the salon floor,’ Serena teases, reaching out to flick at the ends of Bernie’s hair. ‘Though it’s worth it,’ she adds thoughtfully, ‘knowing you’ll never get sick in it again.’

‘Definitely,’ Bernie says seriously, vehemently, and Serena smiles, drops her chin, chuckles deep. Bernie chortles too and Serena looks back up, gazes at Bernie, creases of her cheeks still cutting deep.

Bernie blinks, at Serena’s face: shining down from barely a foot away, shining brighter than a galaxy glittering behind her. Something blooms in her heart, branches out through her veins, takes root in her spine—she’s so beautiful, is the only thought, the only thing she can feel, at that moment, is Serena’s beauty, the most beautiful—Bernie flicks her eyes down to Serena’s still smiling lips, looks back up to see her sparkling eyes; shifts up onto her elbow and brushes her fingertips over the the nape of Serena’s neck before she realises what she’s doing.

She’s so soft, is the only thought that runs through Bernie’s mind as she kisses Serena, as Serena kisses her back, before she realises what she’s doing—what she’s done—pulls back, panicking, to see Serena hovering close, her eyes still closed and her lips parted.

She holds her breath as Serena’s eyelids open slowly and she blinks down at Bernie. She breathes out as Serena’s eyes turn dark and intense, wanting in the dead of night; grunts as Serena dives forward to capture Bernie’s lips, push her hard against the ground, hands frantic and searching until they settle on her shoulders.

Bernie breaths into the kiss, feels herself relax, feels Serena relax against her, as they keep kissing with the stars twinkling above them.

#berena #Serena Campbell #Bernie Wolfe #biancagrieve #thank you sweetpea #i wrote a thing #ficlets for fun #ot3 is gonna be a thing #holby city #Serena Campbell: bisexual extraordinaire #tiny precious wolfe!puppy

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whatdoyouexpectthistime · 8 years ago

Text

Romance: Goto and Miho on Ice!

FIRST: Note the newbies in the banner? MJS is welcoming new staff! H and Rose, @smile-smile-ichthys and @smutmylifeup respectively!

Yawning against Goto’s bare chest, Miho was reflected on her good fortune… their activities prior to the bone deep tiredness that made her body feel so heavy was also a good reminder. Idly she scrawled little patterns against his skin with her fingertip, and after a few moments Goto turned his face into her hair and kissed her tenderly.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked.

“You want the clean or the dirty answer?” she replied cheekily, craning her neck to look at ar his face, and Goto chuckled quietly.

“I’m learning getting a clean answer out of you is a rare thing,” he noted teasingly, shifting her off his shoulder to the pillow, and turned onto his side so he could look down into her face properly. “But you fidget when you’re deep in thought,” he noted. “So you’re deliberating something.”

“Look at you being all observant,” she grinned. “Anyone would think you’re a detective or something.”

“You’re a tough case to crack,” he admitted, brushing her cheek and sliding his fingers into her hair. “If I don’t have my wits about me, you might disappear.”

Miho’s smile tempered a little.

“You’re not actually worried about that are you?” she enquired.

“Maybe just a little,” he admitted honestly, his brows twitching. “As determined as I was, a part of me can’t quite believe you’re here.”

“Do I need to remind you… again?” she asked softly, sliding her leg in between his, bending it all the way up until she could press no further.

“I won’t say no,” he smiled wryly, “but, you know you haven’t answered my question.”

“Mmm, can’t get anything past you, Lieutenant,” she snickered. “I was thinking how lucky I am. Lucky that you’re persistent, lucky that this persistent man is everything a woman could want in a partner.”

Even in the dimness of Goto’s bedroom, Miho could see him blushing – but she didn’t call him cute this time, though she was certainly thinking it.

“That all?” he prompted, watching her closely as she inhaled a deep breath then released it.

“Mmm, Jazz went back home to Europe for a ‘vacation’, but I don’t know,” she explained. “She’s been doing everything she can to thwart my efforts to get her to accept the affections of a client, so I have to wonder if maybe she’s planning a more permanent change of scenery.”

“You really think she’d move to the other side of the world for that reason?” he asked.

Of course he didn’t know the ins and outs of Jazz’s very broken marriage, but even to Miho who did, though it truly extreme if Jazz did plan to stay out of Japan.

“Well, I know she was hurt, a lot,” she thought aloud, eyes fluttering closed as Goto gently rolled her earlobe between his fingers, caressing it softly. “And despite protests she might make to the contrary, she is easily more stubborn than me.”

“That’s pretty stubborn,” Goto mused, and Miho opened her eyes and glared at him. “You can glare all you like, you know it’s true.”

With a huff she rolled her face into his hand and nipped at it.

For her troubles, she ended up trapped beneath him, not that she put up that might of a fight.

“So what are you going to do?” he breathed into her face.

“Right now?” she hissed, wrapping her legs around him. “I’m thinking about how I’m still hungry for you.”

“About Miss Mann,” he chuckled, though he did move slightly, purposefully, teasingly.

“Mmm, I’m going to… save her from herself,” she said after a little squirming failed to provoke Goto into moving any further. “I did promise her I’d find him a nice wife, after all, and I wouldn’t be doing my job for MJS if I didn’t set him up with the best possible candidate, nor as a friend if I let her believe all men can’t be trusted.”

“It sounds to me like you two have a fair amount in common,” he noted, rubbing against her ever so slightly, and how maddening Miho found this was blatantly apparent in her frustrated expression.

“She is pretty hot,” Miho agreed with smug nod. “This one time…”

She began that sentence, but cut it off suddenly when Goto raised an eyebrow.

“This one time?” he encouraged, giving her a calculated nudge.

“You sure you want to know what we got up to with edible glitter after a few drinks?” she smirked, wriggling beneath him again. “Damnit Seiji, you’re being mean.”

“That’s hurtful,” he frowned, and she was surprised at how serious his tone was, when his eyes were laughing – she didn’t think that was very like him.

“I’ll kiss it better then,” she declared, lifting her head from the pillow, but he inched his face away. “Oh, like that is it?”

“Edible glitter?” he prompted.

“And people think I’m evil,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes at him. “We were single, horny, getting ourselves suitably drunk, and had access to all sorts of interesting implements,” she revealed. “One thing led to another and another and another – she makes the most incredible noises and…”

She’d had every intention of getting into the nitty gritty details, but it seemed Goto had had enough, shutting her up finally with his lips. And finally he pressed forward, slowly, inching inside her, no barrier between them at all now.

“Wait, wait,” Miho gasped, holding him tightly against him, and he looked into her face concerned.

“Are you all right?” he scowled, completely falling still. “Or, should I not… oh I didn’t even…”

“No, no it’s fine,” she smiled, sliding her fingers up his back, neck, and into his hair. “I just want to take a moment to…”

Miho closed her eyes and contracted the internal muscles that held him deep within, and the result was Goto growling low groan against her throat.

“Don’t tell me to stop and then do that,” he growled, nipping at her neck and then smoothing his tongue over the marks he’d made. “This… Miho, I want this forever, this close to you.”

At this, Miho blinked, relaxed her body and made eye contact.

“How can you just, say things like that?” she wondered.

“You don’t feel the same?” he responded, his brow creasing a little, and it only intensified when Miho squeezed once more around his cock.

“I feel the same,” she smiled. “It’s just hearing you say something like that is… so romantic, and I love you.”

“No more holding back,” Goto announced, and no more was spoken but for lascivious moans and the desperate whisper of each other’s name.

Goto woke up in his apartment, certainly as he expected to do. This morning was different to most, however. Miho was not beside him where he had left when they’d finally drifted to sleep, and there was a delicious scent permeating the air.

After pulling on a pair of boxers and raking his hair into some semblance of presentable, he wandered from the bedroom to find Miho pottering about the kitchen.

“Morning,” she smiled as she turned, blowing on a mug of coffee until there was barely any steam rising from it, before holding it out to him.

“This has to be a dream,” he murmured, taking the mug, and a peck from Miho on the cheek.

For her to remember and act upon his inability to cope with hot food and drink was just one more sign she was right for him.

“Yeah well, don’t get too used to it,” she chuckled. “I’m not exactly the world’s best house wife, but, your days off are pretty rare, so I thought I’d let you sleep in a little at least.”

“I thought we could go out,” he said after sitting down, watching as Miho covered the table with various breakfast foods, Japanese and international.

“Are you asking me on a date Mr. Goto?” she smirked over her shoulder as she flipped an omelette onto a plate and added it to the collection.

“Only if you want to,” he replied – still a little unsure of how best to handle her perhaps.

“What shall it be then? Amusement park? Shrine? Oh, aquarium?”

“Am I really that unoriginal?” he frowned mildly, and Miho laughed.

“I’m sorry. You have ideas?” she grinned, sitting down with him at the table.

“Well I remember you said something about ice skating,” he began cautiously, watching carefully for her reaction. “It’s not really the season to do it outdoors, but there is an indoor rink not too far from here.”

“Ice skating?” Miho repeated, appearing to be turning this over in her mind. “Were we born to make history?”

At this Goto looked a little confused.

“Oh oh, I foresee a Yuri on Ice marathon in your near future,” she grinned maniacally, and Goto’s confusion turned toward concern. “Oh don’t look so worried, you’ll love it. It’s adorable, like you.”

“Damnit Miho,” he grumbled, blushing as he always did when she called him something cute – which is entirely while she did it.

“Okay, I’m a little bit sorry,” she giggled. “Ice skating sounds fun.”

It sounded fun.

And really, Goto did it because he thought it would make Miho happy, and it did – though her hysterical laughter at his complete inability to ice skate was not exactly what he had in mind.

Miho skated graceful circles around him for a little while, until even trying to help him ended up with them both sliding across the ice.

With wet bums, they decided to take a breather, and sat down in the rink’s café for a drink.

“Why did you suggest skating if you’re not so hot at it?” she asked him, her tone fond, and Goto went back to looking embarrassed over grumpy.

“Like I said, you mentioned it,” he grumbled over the top of his iced coffee. “And all the suggestions from my colleagues were…”

“Amusement park, shrine, aquarium?” Miho filled in, and Goto nodded.

“Wandering aimlessly around a mall, and the city, were also on the list,” he went on. “But that doesn’t sound any different to what people do every other day. I didn’t expect you to be so good at this though; you’ve been skating before?”

“Roller hockey back home, if you’d believe it,” she explained. “Almost the same as ice skating. Less wet though.”

“And less painful I imagine,” he muttered, shifting in his seat.

“Do you need me to kiss it better?” Miho grinned cheekily.

“Let’s save that until a little later,” he replied, then looked thoughtful. “Actually, I was thinking about last night.”

“What did you think I was just talking about?” she snickered, but toned it down when he took her hand. “Uhh, which part about last night?”

“Well, ahh,” he began, and only now seemed a bit uncomfortable about the subject he’d been the one to broach. “You know we, used protect the first, and second time, but then…”

It dawned on Miho.

“That, huh. Yeah we got a bit caught up hmm?” she acknowledged.

She knew he wasn’t worried about some STD; MJS screenings were good for that – pregnancy on the other hand was an unknown for him at least. Her profile on him told her everything she needed to know about his desires for the future, and that he’d ‘like children sometime in the not too distant future’ rang clearly in her recollection.

“Kids are a deal-breaker in many pairings,” she declared slowly, quietly, meeting his attentive gaze, “which… is why I guess I’ve been avoiding it, even though I know it’s pointless.”

“You don’t want any,” he surmised, and Miho nodded slowly.

“Never have,” she admitted on a sigh. “Daisetsu was the same, so it was never a necessary discussion, but you… you do.”

Silence fell between them, and even the noise from the rink couldn’t penetrate the bubble. The longer it stretched, the louder Miho’s internal screaming became.

Idiot.

“You think I want out because you don’t want children?” he asked finally.

“I think I know men who’ve regretted not following their instincts, and women who’ve been left by husbands who decided it wasn’t too late to try somewhere else,” she answered, no bitterness in her tone at all, no judgement, just a bit of fear. “And I don’t want either, not for you or me. It’s not that I don’t love you enough, it’s just not something I’ll ever be changing my mind about. You’re a bit younger than me, could still happily have an atomic family, so, you should take some time to think about it, seriously.”

“I don’t want to think about not being with you,” he frowned, voice low.

“No, me either,” Miho nodded soberly. “But I also don’t want to make you unhappy by not being willing to give you all of what your heart truly wants.”

Goto sighed and gave her hand a squeeze before letting it go and getting to his feet.

“Let’s go get some lunch,” he suggested, though Miho didn’t feel all that hungry.

“You sure your body’s up for that?” she smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m betting you have all sorts of bruises.”

“You’re the old one, remember?” he responded, taking her under the elbow like she needed help to walk.

“You are sooo lucky I’m not sensitive about my age,” she muttered, but allowed his touch to linger as they headed toward the exit.

But Goto suddenly paused, his expression becoming extremely focused and alert.

“What’s up?” Miho questioned, studying his face as Goto pulled her closer and encouraged them to move out onto the street more quickly.

“Just a feeling,” he told her seriously.

“Feeling like what?” she scowled. “That we’re about to be attacked by ninjas?”

“Something like th…” he began, but as they stepped out of the building, wind blew rain sideways against them and they were forced back up against the wall.

“Weather controlling ninjas?” Miho offered, her body shielded for the most part by Goto’s.

“Okay, I’ll grab us a taxi,” he decided, still not seeming all that happy, and Miho could see it wasn’t the rain’s fault. “Do not move from here,” he instructed firmly, turning to look at her so she could see he meant it.

“Yes Sir,” she nodded, stopping short of a salute given how grave he sounded.

While he moved to the curb and looked up and down for an unoccupied cab, Miho searched the street, and glanced back into the ice-skating rink for what might have spooked Goto – but there was no one in particular that stood out as being suspicious or threatening.

“Miho,” Goto prompted, the back door of a taxi already open and waiting for her, and she scuttled to it and all but dived in.

When both were seated, the taxi pulled out into traffic in the direction of its passengers’ destination – and whether Miho saw something or not, the vehicle was observed until it disappeared around its first corner.

@hifftn @nitelotus

#voltage inc #voltage fanfic #seiji goto #miho Fujiwara #mjs #MJS Marriage matchmaking and wedding planning agency #hlitf #her love in the force

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kakiokuru · 8 years ago

Photo

NOBORIZAKA: NOVEMBER RAIN

Chapter Six | Close Calls

“You absolutely sure this is the place?”

“That’s what my trackers indicate, yes.”

“Aquarium? How tacky.”

“Wonder if they actually have fish… I want to see fish… Eat some too. Maiyan, I’m hungry!”

“Always thinking with your black hole stomach... You’re so noisy.”

“Let’s go.”

Exactly four weeks had passed from the day Miona arrived from her attack. Mai had planned, stressed, gathered every detail she could about Majijo and their missing leader. All sources pointed to her working at this hostess bar, still maintaining her leader status. Even if they couldn’t start a fight here, simply putting out a declaration would be enough. Mai had more than a few choice words for the absent leader and her train wreck of a team.

The rag tag team of six rode the cramped elevator up and stood at the door of the thriving hostess club, right at the beginning of their evening. Some customers had already gone in, taking their pleasures as they saw fit. Mai couldn’t help but to think how disgusting a place like this was. How completely degrading it was for a yankee and a woman. To think Majijo had stooped this low.

“Reika, what’s the deal on this place?” Yumi nudged the girl with her elbow.

Glancing down at her tablet, the student body president tapped her screen and swiped up a window of text to read from. “The summary of it is that Majijo was in an appalling amount of debt that threatened to close school down. So Rappappa, uh, the top fighting team of the school, and some other girls dropped out and opened a hostess bar to raise the money to keep it open. Suffice it to say, they made their goal.”

“So, they sold their bodies? Tramps.” Nanase couldn’t help but snicker at the thought. “Wouldn’t giving up be easier?”

“Well that’s not far off… I have it here that–”

“Enough. We’re going in.”

Leading the pack, Mai crossed her arms, holding her head high as she strode inside. The scent of alcohol smacked the barely legal group in the face as the doors closed behind them. Bright, flashy lighting could be seen just down the hall, contrasted with red and black seating.

“Uwaaah~ Maiyan, it stinks!!” Kazumi’s face dropped in disgust as the group made its way down the hall, pinching her nose to shield herself from the stench of alcohol and intense perfume.

“Perhaps the fish in the aquarium have already died and rotted, typical of a Majijo girl. Never living up to the hype.” Nanase tilted her head to the side, looking at Mai as she added to Kazumi’s statement.

“Don’t assume things too early. Hostess or not, this girl lasted two minutes against Salt.” A record indeed. Most opponents were downed in thirty seconds or less, but this Sakura girl was durable, even if she lost.

“All of you, honestly… You’re being rude.”

“So? We’re yankees who gives a shit?”

Mai stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel to look at the group and looking each one in the eyes. For the first time, she almost resembled MaiMai, regarding her teammates like children she was looking after. “We’re meeting someone dangerous. Someone we plan to either fight or declare war on. You’re all going to keep your mouths shut. You’re all going to be respectful. You will all stay at my side and not touch a single thing in this building. We’re representing our school. MaiMai. We’re honouring a fallen classmate. Do not fuck this up, please.”

Erika looked to her leader for the first time with a sense of pride, smiling as she spoke. The rest, however, deflated like balloons. But none the less, they continued after their leader without a word.

The music grew louder, drowning out any chances of hearing conversation. There was glitter littering the floor, tacky decoration pieces on every inch of blank space in the showroom floor. And the smell, god the smell. How could anyone breathe with this disgustingly stuffy air? Despite it hardly being evening, many men were already intoxicated and tossing money at girls who were over dressed and far too friendly.

However, as soon as a blacksuit approached them in question, Mai wasted no time or words to get right to business.

“The top here, where is she?”

The music cut out, everyone stopped and turned to look at the group of intimidating, actual high schoolers. The air in the bar all but completely changed, immediately filling with tension. Mai took a step forward, taking charge of the group, the rest standing at her heels. “Sakura, where is she–”

“Ahh, Maiyan! Look, fruits!” Kazumi bounced off to the table five feet over, kneeling down and eyeing the tray of colourful fruit. She took a tiny, plastic sword, stabbing a chunk of melon and popping it into her mouth. “They’re fresh!”

“Whoa, wait hold up. A lot cute girls here. We can hang around for a while, right? You don’t need all of us. I’ll just sit over there for a while. Thanks!” Yumi scurried off to the nearest empty seat and claimed it as hers. “Well, hello there.”

“Figures you would find interest in girls who bedazzled their chests with too much glitter. Control yourself, pervert.” Nanase called across the room, aimed directly at the fevered teammate.

“Oh, come on, Nanase, don’t tell me you didn’t look either.”

“I never look at girls like that.”

“Liar~ You’re doing that thing you do when you lie! Holding your breath and puffing your cheeks!”

“Kazumin…!!”

“You’re single, aren't you? Go enjoy yourself. Like always.”

Mai turned to her quickly dissipating group, her eyes widening. “G-Guys!!” Her brow furrowed in irritation. Kazumi and Yumi were already long gone. Reika eyes were glued to her tablet as she took photos where she saw fit. Even Nanase seemed to have little to no interest, picking at her nails in irritation. Erika was the only one who seemed to have every intention of staying at Mai’s side.

“You’re fucking kidding me…”

“Are you really surprised, Maiyan? It’s a wonder why you even invited them.” Erika crossed her arms, sharing her leader’s annoyance towards her comrades. She stepped up and took her place at Mai’s side, as she promised. “Keep your head high, just us is enough.”

“You asked for me?”

A girl in a sparkling, pure white dress and a tiara on her crown made her way to the pair of girls, heels clacking against the tile to signal her entrance, and emerging from the small crowd like a shark in the shallows. Her eyes did not fit her appearance; even her aura seemed more than she what appeared. She truly fit her pseudo persona, Same. Shark. There was no denying, this girl was secretly a yankee.

“How rude of you, making me seek you out a second time.” Mai held her defences high, staring at the former yankee down. “You sure are a troublesome leader, off doing whatever you want.”

“My apologies. I didn’t realize there were still stupid yankees willing to pick fights with my former school. I’m not a student there anymore, and this is no place for yankees. Please leave, children are not welcome during business hours.”

“We are of age. One of your underlings attacked a student of our school. Our school is a private academy, not a yankee girls school. This wrong cannot be overlooked.” Erika stopped Mai from interjecting, holding her arm out in front of the leader. “The girl was only a first year, she couldn’t defend herself, was badly hurt, and her uniform and handbook were forcibly taken. As your school’s leader you must answer for those crimes.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m graduated.” Sakura stared at the group with cold, uncaring eyes. Even she could tell these were not proper yankees. This was hardly a team, already seeing that two of them were off in their own business and one clearly incapable of throwing a proper punch. These girls had no idea what they were trying to start. Any war they started, Majijo would stop in an afternoon.

“Actually, you dropped out.” Reika raised a hand, jumping into the conversation. Everyone snapped their attention to her. She hid the bottom half of her face behind the tablet, shy from everyone’s staring. “What? I’m simply stating a fact…”

Mai took a deep breath to clear her head, growing increasingly more irritated. “Anyway, your school has no top. You never passed that torch, so either fight me one-on-one or… Noborizaka will take over Majijo.”

“Go ahead. I’m sure the slaughter of your pathetic rich princess school will be fun to watch.”

Mai was taken back by the girl’s words, her eyes slightly widening to the insult flown their way.

Even Yumi couldn’t ignore the slander spewed from the hostess in white, immediately rising to her feet and returning to her leader’s side. Her eyes narrowed at the flashy girl in front of her, glaring daggers into her made-up, blemish free face. “Who the hell do you think you are?” She growled under her breath.

Nanase pushed through the team, grabbing the snobby girl by her fake pearls. “The fuck did you say? Washed-up, trashy, one-dimensional piece of shit. Majijo is nothing now. I would know, I already made it to the gate easily. You have no defences. If we wanted too, we could take that piss poor excuse of a top school with no trouble at all. Just as we are.”

“Ah, you’re the girl who caused trouble last year and walked away. Couldn’t commit? That a common problem for you?”

Nanase’s eyes darkened. Like a volcano, all that pent up anger bubbled up at once and exploded into a fit of rage with just a few little words. The angered scout raised her fist and swung it at the hostess only for her fist to be caught in Sakura’s manicured fingers. Nanase was known to be fast, faster than any other fighter. If someone caught even her hand, everyone knew it was because she let them, wanted them to. Just as soon as she saw her hand being grabbed, Yumi was on the scene, pulling Nanase back by the waist before the enraged girl could land cheap jabs on the hostess.

“Don’t. Let the leaders handle it.” Yumi scolded her in a hushed tone, pressing her face against the side of her head to whisper in the girl’s ear. A familiar scene, Yumi’s arms snaked around Nanase’s frame to keep the girl from letting her temper control her. Yumi knew she was probably the last person Nanase wanted defending her, but Yumi was the only one strong enough to stop her. “Now isn’t the time. She’s just trying to set you off. You’re smarter than that.”

Sakura smirked to herself, watching the scene. “You really are all children…” She spoke with amusement, her heels clicking against the tile as she came face to face with the opposing leader. “If you want a war, go ahead. But I have no stake or place there anymore. All I can offer in my warnings and premature condolences.”

Mai glared at her in response, her gaze unwavering. This truly meant war. Sakura wouldn’t fight her one on one so the only choice left was to take down Majijo themselves. The first strike had thankfully been stopped in a call closer than she felt comfortable with. She would have to scold Nanase later, but for now, more pressing matters must be tended to.

“Thank you for your time.” Erika grabbed Mai by the hand. “Let’s go, it’ll be curfew here soon.” Even if they were yankees, they had school rules to follow like normal students. “That means everyone.”

“Fine.” In a huff, Nanase jerked forward, forcing the yankee off. “Didn’t want to stick around in a sleazy place like this anyways. Come on, Kazumin.”

Kazumi, whom had been stuffing her face with fruit the entire time, perked her head up from the booth when she heard her name. “Ah, yeah, coming!” Carefully climbing out of the now slightly sticky seat, Kazumi hugged the still full fruit bowl as she charged after her group of friends to the elevator. “Anyone want some?” She pulled from her pocket a handful of tiny, plastic swords. She was only given a tired staring as a response while the elevator door closed.

Reika sighed, recording the outcome of the confrontation into her notes. “Well, that went well. So what’s the plan now? Clearly Miyawaki-san doesn’t want any part of this. The gall honestly, you’d think she’d take more responsibility.”

As the door closed, Mai wasted no time dropping her cold leader face. “We’re going to war. Sakura says they don’t truly have a top, then it's time for us to take over in Noborizaka’s honour.” Her voice carried a weight of pride with her aura intensifying to match. “Reika, research every girl. I want a strength chart, weaknesses, special information, all of it.”

“Understood.”

“Wakatsuki, save your strength. You’re a hard hitter; I need you at 100% so that means no challenges. Erika too.”

“Finally some good action.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Maiyan.”

“Naachan, I know she pissed you off but she isn’t our target. You’re fast enough to get in and out of Majijo unscathed. Channel that anger into the upcoming mission.”

“...Fine, Miss ‘Leader’.”

“Kazumin…” Mai looked over to the tall girl, who was a happy mess with strawberry seeds clinging to her cheeks. Kazumi was strong and a great fighter, she wasn’t the team's tank for nothing, but a pacifist at heart. Mai couldn’t force her to fight, it wouldn’t be right. “Just keep eating and cheer us on, okay?” Mai, for the first time in a while, smiled at her guard, patting her on the head, making a mess of her hair.

“Can do!!” Kazumi raised a fist in the air, bouncing in place with the brightest smile only she could show.

Mai stared forward as the doors opened on the first floor. “We attack at the end of the week. Rest up until then.”

To be continued...

#Noborizaka: November Rain #Noborizaka #N:NR #Nogizaka46 #Majisuka Gakuen #collab #w.Ali #Multi-chapter

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