Solicited Rumors | Beyblade | Brooklyn/OC
Title: Solicited Rumors
Author/Artist: kerrie13
Fandom: Beyblade
Pairing: Brooklyn Kingston/Liika Tomoda (OC)
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: Swearing
Prompt: “the last to know: all of A and B's friends already think they should be a couple”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”
The glare Liika leveled on Mariah was black and stormy. To Mariah, it only seemed to prove her point further. A pink eyebrow rose, an accompaniment to the incredulous expression on her face. She didn’t even have to say anything.
“I don’t even like him!”
Mariah snorted at this and propped her hands up on her hips. “That’s not even remotely true.”
Liika, flushed and indignant, relented a little. “Fine,” she muttered, huffing. “I do a like him, but I’m not in love with him.”
Why couldn’t anyone see? So she spent a lot of time with him (their jobs necessitated it!) and for the most part she enjoyed his company (he had his moments). But that didn’t mean she was in love with him, or he her. That was just absurd.
And yet, for whatever reason, all of their mutual friends swore otherwise.
Mariah was the worst. The woman fully believed, that there was something going on and that Liika just wasn’t telling her. Apparently she didn’t understand that there was nothing to tell.
It was all very irritating.
Liika had never been a big fan of rumors, even when they were about others. When directed at her, they sucked even more. Normally, she would have just ignored it. After all, it wasn’t the first time some tabloid had made something up about her relationship wise. But compared to the romantic rumor-fling she had had with her bodyguard Rick, her current rumor-fling was a catastrophe.
They had been dating for years, the tabloids said, and they were getting married in a couple of months at some secluded estate in Scotland. When the press had hit that morning, her phone started wringing incessantly - press and friend alike.
It was hard to believe that that had only been a few hours ago. It felt like a century. Especially since she couldn’t step outside her office without being congratulated by smug, knowing faces. It made her want to steal Rick’s gun and shoot them all.
“Mhmm.”
Liika let out an indignant grown and slammed her hand down on top of a tilting tower of file folders. The folders slid, scattering in several directions. Some landed on the floor in front of her desk, others under, while others still remained on the wooden surface. Liika could feel her heard start to pound and was seriously considering just giving up and going home. Forever. “You would think that you would know not to trust the tabloids by now Mariah.” She muttered, pushing her chair out of the so she could access the floor under her desk.
“The Times hardly constitutes a tabloid Liika.”
Swearing to herself, Liika dropped to her knees and began the obnoxious task of retrieving her scattered files. It was a rather lengthy task, since several files had opened and their contents spilled over the blue carpeted floor. What a fucking bad day. “Whatever,” she replied after a long pause, punctuated by mutters in which she failed to hear the door open and close. “It doesn’t matter. They are wrong anyway.” She snorted, her annoyance rising with every second that passed. “I should sue them for defamation of character. Marry Brooklyn, yea right.”
“Oh I don’t know, the idea doesn’t seem so unattractive to me.”
A solid, resounding thump shook the desk, rattling the stationary and trinkets on the top as Liika’s head collided with the underside of the desk. “Jesus fucking Christ! Goddamn, ow!” She let out a heavy groan, followed by several more curses. “Shit. Fucking hell, Brooklyn?”
“Of course, I’m not sure I can marry a woman who swears more than a pub crawling roughian.” The male voice sounded amused, and its owner was clearly smirking. Liika felt her hackles rise even more.
“I’ll just leave you love-birds alone!”
Damn witch, Liika thought nastily, shuffling backwards from under her desk. Her glare was burning by the time she raised her throbbing head and met the flashing turquoise gaze of one Brooklyn Kingston.
He was looking especially good that morning. He had chosen a navy colored pair of trousers and a matching sports coat. His shirt was white, tie-less, and was crisp against the dark color of the buttoned jacket. Hands tucked in his pockets, the Head of BBA Britain looked cocky and arrogant, as if everything was going his way. Damn him too.
“You are so the last person I want to see right now.” Liika spat, blowing her bangs out of her eyes the best she could while gathering her fallen folders.
Brooklyn knew her better than to be offended by anything she said - even if her was the type to get offended, which he wasn’t. His smirk grew as his eyes trailed over the disheveled woman who was gathering herself and standing. “Is that any way to greet your beloved fiancé?”
Liika stiffened and dropped the folders onto the desk with an irate snap. “Don’t even start with me Kingston.” Liika plopped down in her chair, momentarily forgetting about the folders on the floor before her desk. “I am not in the mood.”
“This I can see.” He drawled, rocking back on his heels. “I would have thought you would be amused. You certainly weren’t this upset with Rick.”
“That was different.”
“How so?”
“It was the bloody Enquirer last time,” she replied with a tired sigh. “It’s easy to laugh off the Enquirer.”
“But not The Times.”
Liika shot him a look, but he merely returned it with a raised eyebrow. She sighed again, lip curling a bit. ‘No. A respectable newspaper, one that has been my ally. When I called and asked who had given them the information, all they would tell me was that the source was verified, but confidential. I would like to meet the verible and credible source, just so I could strangle them myself.”
Brooklyn made a strange noise and his smirk dropped a bit. “You have met him. Though, I would really prefer not to be strangled today, thank you.”
She froze, body rigid as her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. She stared at him, confused and incredulous. “Y-you?” She stammered, red creeping over her cheeks and ears. “But… but…but... why?”
His eyes darkened and his jaw set. “Is it so surprising Liika?” He asked softly, moving around the large desk. “Have you not listened to what people have been saying for months?”
“I…” She was unsure how to handle his sudden close proximity. His breath brushed over her lips as he leaned over her, forehead to forehead. “I…It was you!” Out rage flooded her system as she realized just what he was talking about.
He was the reason everyone thought she was in love with him! Why everyone kept including them as a couple. Her face blossomed completely as she stared up into his eyes, suddenly aware that he had caged her in her chair by placing his hands on her armrests. “Everyone thought we were together… thought I was in love with you because you told them so!”
His eyes narrowed and Liika felt danger racing down her spine. Sometimes she forgot just who Brooklyn was. “And if I did?”
“Why would you do that?!”
“Why?”
“Why.”
She got no warning before his lips descended the last four inches and caught hers in a demanding kiss. His tongue ran over her bottom lip, prying her unresisting mouth open and taking over her senses completely.
Liika was lost in him within seconds. His scent and warmth overwhelmed her, wrapping around her and blocking out everything else. In that moment, the only thing that existed was him and the intense fire between them.
When he pulled away, Liika immediately felt the loss, though he did not go far. He continued to hover over her lips, his eyes cracked open. “Marry me.” He whispered in a ragged tone.
Her annoyance came back, but it was much satiated by the way he pressed butterfly kisses at the corner of her mouth and over her cheek. “You couldn’t have asked me out like any normal man.” She murmured in a disgruntled way, distracted by the brush of his lips and the liquid heat pooling in her stomach. “Manipulative bastard.”
“Marry me.” His voice was gaining urgency and impatience as his mouth closed over her ear lobe, causing her to shudder.
“Ugh. Fine.” A giggle bubbled up in her throat, though she didn’t let it escape. “But you have to date me first. I’m not sure I even like you.”
His answering chuckle was predatory, but warm. “You love me, you wouldn’t have been so upset if you didn’t.” He rumbled and slowly returned to her mouth. “But, I’ll make the concession, if you wear my ring while we date.”
“You drive a hard bargain Kingston,” she returned, annoyance fleeing with all traces of insecurity. He was right of course - she did love him. Denial only worked so far.
Bringing her hands up to frame his face, she sought his lips again, delighting in the taste of him.
“AHA! I told you it was true!” Came a familiar, if not joyous yell. “Twenty-bucks Ricky!”
“Son-of-a-bitch, conniving bastard. Stop crowing Wong.”
“Finally!”
“Don’t you all have better things to do? Tomoda! Kingston! Go home already.”
Brooklyn grinned against her mouth. “Shall we?”
“Thought you’d never ask. Damn Voyeurs.”