@Rowdy Stevenson
Amy was disappointed when the kiss ended, but only realised after that her leg was up on his waist, and his hand snugly holding it there. She simply grinned at him and when his grip lessened, she let her leg fall. Her hand untangled from his hair and she let it slowly drop, her nails lightly grazing as it fell.
His question earned a soft noise of amusement and she leaned back up to his lips, but didn't kiss him, "Passable, I suppose... Kinda hot" she whispered with a mischievous glint, "Though I suppose you're the type of guy who likes a challenge, right?" Moving a little, she reached to the booth, grabbed a ticket and a pen, scribbling something then throwing the pen back to the booth and holding up the ticket to show him. A phone number. She then stepped forward and slid the ticket snugly into his belt.
"Lemme know if you want a rematch... Or to hose me down" she whispered, eyes shimmering red before pulling back and biting her lip a little, stepping a little back. "Names Amy" she said with a quirk of her brow, "See you later hot stuff" she winked and turned, walking away for the next woman to have a go, but not before a quick glance back and a smirk before he lost her in the crowd.
Amy was disappointed when the kiss ended, but only realised after that her leg was up on his waist, and his hand snugly holding it there. She simply grinned at him and when his grip lessened, she let her leg fall. Her hand untangled from his hair and she let it slowly drop, her nails lightly grazing as it fell.
His question earned a soft noise of amusement and she leaned back up to his lips, but didn't kiss him, "Passable, I suppose... Kinda hot" she whispered with a mischievous glint, "Though I suppose you're the type of guy who likes a challenge, right?" Moving a little, she reached to the booth, grabbed a ticket and a pen, scribbling something then throwing the pen back to the booth and holding up the ticket to show him. A phone number. She then stepped forward and slid the ticket snugly into his belt.
"Lemme know if you want a rematch... Or to hose me down" she whispered, eyes shimmering red before pulling back and biting her lip a little, stepping a little back. "Names Amy" she said with a quirk of her brow, "See you later hot stuff" she winked and turned, walking away for the next woman to have a go, but not before a quick glance back and a smirk before he lost her in the crowd.
@ Neriah
Mercy had been mid-laugh at something Gandrell said when a familiar burst of energy came bounding toward her. The moment she spotted the radiant grin, she let out a delighted gasp. “Neriah!” she squealed, eyes bright with surprise and affection.
Without hesitation, Mercy rounded the booth, her cowgirl hat nearly flying off as she hurried straight into Neriah’s arms. She hugged her tight, the kind of hug that lifted one foot off the ground and left both women laughing.
“Are you kidding me? You would’ve stolen all the attention!” she teased, pulling back just enough to look her friend over. “Besides, somebody has to keep this booth respectable. Or at least try to.”
She gave a playful glance toward the booth where Neriah had just been, one brow arching with mischief. “And judging by what I just saw, you are definitely not helping that cause.” Her grin widened, warm and full of pride. “But you look amazing. Leave it to you to make a family carnival blush.”
Still laughing, Mercy looped an arm around her friend’s shoulders and gave her another quick squeeze. “Next time, call me before you make half the fair jealous. We’ll plan our outfits and make this place melt together.”
She tipped her hat with a wink, the corners of her mouth curving into that trademark Mercy smile. “Now come on, sugar. You’re not escaping without trying one of Gandrell’s drinks.”
Mercy had been mid-laugh at something Gandrell said when a familiar burst of energy came bounding toward her. The moment she spotted the radiant grin, she let out a delighted gasp. “Neriah!” she squealed, eyes bright with surprise and affection.
Without hesitation, Mercy rounded the booth, her cowgirl hat nearly flying off as she hurried straight into Neriah’s arms. She hugged her tight, the kind of hug that lifted one foot off the ground and left both women laughing.
“Are you kidding me? You would’ve stolen all the attention!” she teased, pulling back just enough to look her friend over. “Besides, somebody has to keep this booth respectable. Or at least try to.”
She gave a playful glance toward the booth where Neriah had just been, one brow arching with mischief. “And judging by what I just saw, you are definitely not helping that cause.” Her grin widened, warm and full of pride. “But you look amazing. Leave it to you to make a family carnival blush.”
Still laughing, Mercy looped an arm around her friend’s shoulders and gave her another quick squeeze. “Next time, call me before you make half the fair jealous. We’ll plan our outfits and make this place melt together.”
She tipped her hat with a wink, the corners of her mouth curving into that trademark Mercy smile. “Now come on, sugar. You’re not escaping without trying one of Gandrell’s drinks.”
@ Mercy @Jeanne
Neriah glanced over her shoulder at the chef she had just gotten all hot bothered over and gave them a sensual wink. “How am I not helping? If the kisses look good maybe more people will come and get one.”
At the compliment of her friend, she twirled to show off her costume and then stopped to check out Mercy in her sexy digs. “I love the cowgirl look! You pull it off perfectly. Have you found a hot boy to ride yet?” Neriah was dirty minded where her friend was more reserved but just as fun. When Mercy talked about doing outfits together next year, Neriah got excited. “Yes!!! We can totally pull of Charlie’s Angels or something. Let’s do it!”
“Drinks! Yes please,” she said as she followed Mercy back behind the booth. “But if I am hanging out back here, I want my chef!” She looked toward her kissing buddy. “Look! I’m a part of the group now. No tickets needed for more action,” she said as she used her finger to call her chef over to her.
Neriah glanced over her shoulder at the chef she had just gotten all hot bothered over and gave them a sensual wink. “How am I not helping? If the kisses look good maybe more people will come and get one.”
At the compliment of her friend, she twirled to show off her costume and then stopped to check out Mercy in her sexy digs. “I love the cowgirl look! You pull it off perfectly. Have you found a hot boy to ride yet?” Neriah was dirty minded where her friend was more reserved but just as fun. When Mercy talked about doing outfits together next year, Neriah got excited. “Yes!!! We can totally pull of Charlie’s Angels or something. Let’s do it!”
“Drinks! Yes please,” she said as she followed Mercy back behind the booth. “But if I am hanging out back here, I want my chef!” She looked toward her kissing buddy. “Look! I’m a part of the group now. No tickets needed for more action,” she said as she used her finger to call her chef over to her.
Mercy laughed so hard she nearly lost her hat. “You are absolutely impossible, Neriah!” she said between giggles, her blue eyes sparkling. “You call that helping? If the goal was to make the whole fair blush, you’ve succeeded. I swear, the crowd’s going to need water and confession after that performance.”
She leaned against the booth, still catching her breath, and gave her friend a playful once-over. “And that outfit? Lord have mercy. You twirl like that again and you’ll have people forgetting this is a family event.” She tipped her hat in mock salute. “Guess I’m not the only one turning heads tonight.”
When Neriah complimented her cowgirl getup, Mercy grinned. “Why, thank you kindly. I figured I’d lean into the boots-and-trouble aesthetic this year. As for the riding part…” her voice dropped into a teasing drawl, “…still taking applications.”
Neriah’s excitement over doing outfits together next year made her laugh again, softer this time. “Charlie’s Angels? Oh, we’d be unstoppable. You’d be the wild one, I’d be the sassy one, and whoever joins us better know how to keep up.”
Spotting Gandrell behind the counter, she motioned him over with a grin. “Gand, this troublemaker right here is Neriah,” she said warmly. “My partner in crime, bad influence, and now apparently our newest booth mascot.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked between them. “Neriah, meet Gandrell, the mastermind keeping this circus running and the one responsible for those magical mystery drinks everyone keeps raving about.”
She stepped back a little, arms folding across her chest as she smiled. “I figured it was about time you two met before she talks you into letting her run the booth next year.”
She leaned against the booth, still catching her breath, and gave her friend a playful once-over. “And that outfit? Lord have mercy. You twirl like that again and you’ll have people forgetting this is a family event.” She tipped her hat in mock salute. “Guess I’m not the only one turning heads tonight.”
When Neriah complimented her cowgirl getup, Mercy grinned. “Why, thank you kindly. I figured I’d lean into the boots-and-trouble aesthetic this year. As for the riding part…” her voice dropped into a teasing drawl, “…still taking applications.”
Neriah’s excitement over doing outfits together next year made her laugh again, softer this time. “Charlie’s Angels? Oh, we’d be unstoppable. You’d be the wild one, I’d be the sassy one, and whoever joins us better know how to keep up.”
Spotting Gandrell behind the counter, she motioned him over with a grin. “Gand, this troublemaker right here is Neriah,” she said warmly. “My partner in crime, bad influence, and now apparently our newest booth mascot.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked between them. “Neriah, meet Gandrell, the mastermind keeping this circus running and the one responsible for those magical mystery drinks everyone keeps raving about.”
She stepped back a little, arms folding across her chest as she smiled. “I figured it was about time you two met before she talks you into letting her run the booth next year.”
@ Mercy @ Jeanne @ Gandrell
Neriah twirled again, making sure to pop her barely covered butt in the direction of the chef she was trying to catch the eye of. Her comment was all for her friend, though. “If you really want me to get people’s attention, erect a pole and I will draw a crowd.” That could be taken so many fun ways and Neriah meant each and every one of them. She winked with no hint of blush to her cheeks. There was no shame in her game and flirting and sex were the games she played the best.
Neriah checked over her shoulder again in the direction of her chef, hoping she would have drawn the eye by now. She pouted softly and redirected her attention to Mercy’s friend with the weird name. When he came into view Neriah stopped and grabbed Mercy’s hand for support. “Hello Disney Prince destined to give me wet dreams for life.” She leaned into Mercy and whispered a rushed question, “Please tell he is not gay or a prude.”
Neriah looked from Mery to the guy dressed as an evil prince? He was in all black with a white frilly shirt that was open to show off his…God was that marble he was made from? She offered her hand and tried for his name, “Gandell?”
Neriah twirled again, making sure to pop her barely covered butt in the direction of the chef she was trying to catch the eye of. Her comment was all for her friend, though. “If you really want me to get people’s attention, erect a pole and I will draw a crowd.” That could be taken so many fun ways and Neriah meant each and every one of them. She winked with no hint of blush to her cheeks. There was no shame in her game and flirting and sex were the games she played the best.
Neriah checked over her shoulder again in the direction of her chef, hoping she would have drawn the eye by now. She pouted softly and redirected her attention to Mercy’s friend with the weird name. When he came into view Neriah stopped and grabbed Mercy’s hand for support. “Hello Disney Prince destined to give me wet dreams for life.” She leaned into Mercy and whispered a rushed question, “Please tell he is not gay or a prude.”
Neriah looked from Mery to the guy dressed as an evil prince? He was in all black with a white frilly shirt that was open to show off his…God was that marble he was made from? She offered her hand and tried for his name, “Gandell?”
@ Mercy @ Neriah
Being that he wasn’t volunteering to be a kisser this year, Gandrell was staying behind the scenes as much as possible. He was entertaining himself with mixing music, mixing drinks, and people watching. He was also keeping himself busy on his phone when he needed something to do. He was keeping an ear open to listen to any of the noise around the kissing booth, but nothing had really gone on yet to draw him out from behind the speakers where he had made himself a little hidey-hole.
He heard Mercy speak his name and poked his head around the speaker to see what was going on. What he saw was Mercy bringing one of her friends back behind the booth. Then there was mention of a stripper pole? Okay, his interest was piqued. He stepped out from behind the speakers and addressed the one thing he was comfortable addressing. “Anyone need a drink or a refill?”
The new female’s reaction to him was unexpected considering she and Jeanne had just been practically climbing each other. “Disney Prince?” He lifted an eyebrow and looked over to the girls. “It’s the hair, right? Maybe I should shave it off.” it wasn’t the first time had had been called a Disney Prince and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last time. He wondered if his hair would hold dye.
His attention went to Mercy when she mentioned Neriah running the booth next year. He cocked his head a little as the hint of a frown touched his lips. “I am not opposed to passing the torch for someone else to have fun running the booth. But that might put back in the shoes of a kisser, rather than just an observer.” He grinned teasingly and winked at them. “Did either of you want a drink?”
Being that he wasn’t volunteering to be a kisser this year, Gandrell was staying behind the scenes as much as possible. He was entertaining himself with mixing music, mixing drinks, and people watching. He was also keeping himself busy on his phone when he needed something to do. He was keeping an ear open to listen to any of the noise around the kissing booth, but nothing had really gone on yet to draw him out from behind the speakers where he had made himself a little hidey-hole.
He heard Mercy speak his name and poked his head around the speaker to see what was going on. What he saw was Mercy bringing one of her friends back behind the booth. Then there was mention of a stripper pole? Okay, his interest was piqued. He stepped out from behind the speakers and addressed the one thing he was comfortable addressing. “Anyone need a drink or a refill?”
The new female’s reaction to him was unexpected considering she and Jeanne had just been practically climbing each other. “Disney Prince?” He lifted an eyebrow and looked over to the girls. “It’s the hair, right? Maybe I should shave it off.” it wasn’t the first time had had been called a Disney Prince and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last time. He wondered if his hair would hold dye.
His attention went to Mercy when she mentioned Neriah running the booth next year. He cocked his head a little as the hint of a frown touched his lips. “I am not opposed to passing the torch for someone else to have fun running the booth. But that might put back in the shoes of a kisser, rather than just an observer.” He grinned teasingly and winked at them. “Did either of you want a drink?”
@ Gand, @ Mercy, @ Neriah
Charlie approached the booth with an expression that was equal parts amusement and disbelief. The crowd had thinned just enough for her to hear the tail end of Gandrell’s conversation, and that was more than enough to make her shake her head with a laugh. Her boots clicked against the wooden planks as she sauntered closer, confidence in every step.
“Really, Gand?” she called out, that soft Southern lilt threading through her words. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’re over here discussing stripper poles with two beautiful women? You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
Her smile was playful, teasing but warm, and the glint in her blue eyes said she wasn’t actually mad. She was just enjoying watching him squirm a little. She rested her hands on her hips, the festival lights catching the pale pink in her hair as she gave him a mock look of disapproval.
“You do realize the booth across the way is waiting on you, right?” she continued, leaning in slightly. “I want to visit it, so I’d come drag you over there before you start a scandal over here.”
Her gaze flicked toward Mercy and Neriah with a friendly grin. “Don’t mind me, ladies. I’m just here to collect this one before someone decides to test that pole idea.”
She turned back to Gandrell and gave him a knowing look, her tone softening. “Come on, Phantom. You can charm them later. You’ve got a fiancé whole is craving your company.”
With a quick wink, she reached for his arm, fully prepared to tug him along if he didn’t move fast enough.
Charlie approached the booth with an expression that was equal parts amusement and disbelief. The crowd had thinned just enough for her to hear the tail end of Gandrell’s conversation, and that was more than enough to make her shake her head with a laugh. Her boots clicked against the wooden planks as she sauntered closer, confidence in every step.
“Really, Gand?” she called out, that soft Southern lilt threading through her words. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’re over here discussing stripper poles with two beautiful women? You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
Her smile was playful, teasing but warm, and the glint in her blue eyes said she wasn’t actually mad. She was just enjoying watching him squirm a little. She rested her hands on her hips, the festival lights catching the pale pink in her hair as she gave him a mock look of disapproval.
“You do realize the booth across the way is waiting on you, right?” she continued, leaning in slightly. “I want to visit it, so I’d come drag you over there before you start a scandal over here.”
Her gaze flicked toward Mercy and Neriah with a friendly grin. “Don’t mind me, ladies. I’m just here to collect this one before someone decides to test that pole idea.”
She turned back to Gandrell and gave him a knowing look, her tone softening. “Come on, Phantom. You can charm them later. You’ve got a fiancé whole is craving your company.”
With a quick wink, she reached for his arm, fully prepared to tug him along if he didn’t move fast enough.
Innocently – for once – Gandrell glanced over at his approaching fiancé and offered her a sincere smile. “The stripper pole had nothing to do with me and everything to do with them,” he motioned to his Mery and Neriah standing there looking at him like he had betrayed them. Telling the truth wasn’t a betrayal, especially when it kept him out of trouble. “They were picking on me about looking like a prince from a Disney movie.”
Gandrell, knowing better than to go against his lady, offered his arm and to Charlie and stepped out of the booth. “Jax! You are in charge of drinks while I am gone, Quartermaster.” He gave the high-ranking wolf a wink and then headed off with his beloved.
“What booth are we going to, Charlie?” Gandrell looked around but only saw a Dollhouse thing before them.
Gandrell, knowing better than to go against his lady, offered his arm and to Charlie and stepped out of the booth. “Jax! You are in charge of drinks while I am gone, Quartermaster.” He gave the high-ranking wolf a wink and then headed off with his beloved.
“What booth are we going to, Charlie?” Gandrell looked around but only saw a Dollhouse thing before them.
@rayna
Oh god, was she really doing this? It felt ridiculous, but after some teasing and prompting from her partner, Constance had finally decided to go for it. Nothing scandalous or indecent. Just enough to say that, after so many years in the abbey, she had actually properly participated in something as salacious as a kissing booth.
Like most of the attendants, Constance had bothered to dress up. Wearing a knee length black dress and a wide brimmed hat that was wider than even her shoulders. With stockings on, and a some short heels to boot, she looked like she'd walk straight out of a 1950s television show Halloween special. Her hair all curled and pinned, and even a hint of lipstick to colour her mouth. Her cheeks a far redder shade than any lipstick could have been.
"Its just a kiss on the cheek! Its fine! Deep breathes Constance, you're an adult, not a nun. Its fine!" she stepped up to the booth, eyes flickering over the attendants before immediately staring at the ground again. Why was one of them nearly naked?!?!?! What kind of kissing booth was this??!?!?! Maybe this was a bad idea!
Constance was just about to leave, when her eyes landed on the most clothed individual here. I mean sure, it was a cat suit, but it was technically full coverage. Something that gave the ex-nun a sigh of relief, as she moved in that direction. Her face still bright red, as she side stepped up to the woman dressed up in what she assumed was a cartoon character...Constance as not very familiar with television.
Hi..." she squeaked, holding her ticket between both fingers. The girl looked damn near ready to faint, "I just...give you this? And then its just a quick peck on the cheek?"
Oh god, was she really doing this? It felt ridiculous, but after some teasing and prompting from her partner, Constance had finally decided to go for it. Nothing scandalous or indecent. Just enough to say that, after so many years in the abbey, she had actually properly participated in something as salacious as a kissing booth.
Like most of the attendants, Constance had bothered to dress up. Wearing a knee length black dress and a wide brimmed hat that was wider than even her shoulders. With stockings on, and a some short heels to boot, she looked like she'd walk straight out of a 1950s television show Halloween special. Her hair all curled and pinned, and even a hint of lipstick to colour her mouth. Her cheeks a far redder shade than any lipstick could have been.
"Its just a kiss on the cheek! Its fine! Deep breathes Constance, you're an adult, not a nun. Its fine!" she stepped up to the booth, eyes flickering over the attendants before immediately staring at the ground again. Why was one of them nearly naked?!?!?! What kind of kissing booth was this??!?!?! Maybe this was a bad idea!
Constance was just about to leave, when her eyes landed on the most clothed individual here. I mean sure, it was a cat suit, but it was technically full coverage. Something that gave the ex-nun a sigh of relief, as she moved in that direction. Her face still bright red, as she side stepped up to the woman dressed up in what she assumed was a cartoon character...Constance as not very familiar with television.
Hi..." she squeaked, holding her ticket between both fingers. The girl looked damn near ready to faint, "I just...give you this? And then its just a quick peck on the cheek?"
Charlie slipped her hand through his offered arm, her smile curving slow and knowing as she looked up at him. “A prince, huh?” she said, amusement dancing in her voice. “Well, I can’t exactly argue with that. Though I have to say, you seem mighty at home surrounded by dolls. All these pretty faces, and somehow you still manage to look like the one made of porcelain.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she gave his arm a gentle tug, steering him toward the booth ahead. “Come on now, Phantom. I’m not gonna keep you from your adoring fans for too long. Wouldn’t want them thinking I’m the wicked witch who dragged their prince away.”
She leaned in just enough for only him to hear, her tone softening into something playful and fond. “Besides, I know better than to come between you and your admirers. I’m just borrowing you for a little while. I’ll return you in one piece… probably.”
As they approached the Dollhouse booth, she shot him a teasing sideways glance. “Fitting, don’t you think? Dolls and princes…seems like you’re exactly where you belong.” Her laughter carried light through the fair air as she added, “Just don’t start serenading them or I’ll have to start charging admission.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she gave his arm a gentle tug, steering him toward the booth ahead. “Come on now, Phantom. I’m not gonna keep you from your adoring fans for too long. Wouldn’t want them thinking I’m the wicked witch who dragged their prince away.”
She leaned in just enough for only him to hear, her tone softening into something playful and fond. “Besides, I know better than to come between you and your admirers. I’m just borrowing you for a little while. I’ll return you in one piece… probably.”
As they approached the Dollhouse booth, she shot him a teasing sideways glance. “Fitting, don’t you think? Dolls and princes…seems like you’re exactly where you belong.” Her laughter carried light through the fair air as she added, “Just don’t start serenading them or I’ll have to start charging admission.”
@Constance
Rayna turned at the sound of the shy little voice, the edges of her green-and-black suit catching the soft glow from the booth lights. She had been in the middle of a drink, conversing and slightly flirting with Jax when she heard it. Her lips curved, sharp and knowing, when she took in the woman in front of her. Her curls pinned, cheeks flushed, dress neat as a Sunday prayer. It was adorable, really.
“Well aren’t you just a breath of fresh air,” She said, leaning an elbow lazily against the booth. “Most of the folks that’ve come up here don’t ask questions first. You’re already ahead of the game.”
She straightened a little, green contacted eyes glinting with mischief as she took the ticket gently from Constance’s trembling hands. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I don’t bite…” She smiled wickedly. “…unless someone pays extra.”
Then her tone softened, just slightly, the teasing slipping into something smoother. “A quick peck on the cheek, yeah? No need to faint on me.” She leaned in close enough that Constance could smell the faint trace of vanilla perfume beneath the faint hint of smoke from the fairgrounds.
“Ready?” Rayna asked, voice low and warm now, waiting for that shy little nod before moving in, perfectly calm, perfectly collected, the villainess playing gentle for once.
Rayna turned at the sound of the shy little voice, the edges of her green-and-black suit catching the soft glow from the booth lights. She had been in the middle of a drink, conversing and slightly flirting with Jax when she heard it. Her lips curved, sharp and knowing, when she took in the woman in front of her. Her curls pinned, cheeks flushed, dress neat as a Sunday prayer. It was adorable, really.
“Well aren’t you just a breath of fresh air,” She said, leaning an elbow lazily against the booth. “Most of the folks that’ve come up here don’t ask questions first. You’re already ahead of the game.”
She straightened a little, green contacted eyes glinting with mischief as she took the ticket gently from Constance’s trembling hands. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I don’t bite…” She smiled wickedly. “…unless someone pays extra.”
Then her tone softened, just slightly, the teasing slipping into something smoother. “A quick peck on the cheek, yeah? No need to faint on me.” She leaned in close enough that Constance could smell the faint trace of vanilla perfume beneath the faint hint of smoke from the fairgrounds.
“Ready?” Rayna asked, voice low and warm now, waiting for that shy little nod before moving in, perfectly calm, perfectly collected, the villainess playing gentle for once.
@ Rayna
"Well, it seems rather rude not to at least ask first...you're all working so hard." Constance chided to no one in particular. Her lips pulling into a slight pout that people would just be diving right in. Where was the decorum! The romance! Well...maybe those things don't really apply at a fairground kissing booth. She wouldn't really know..."This is...its my first time..."
First time for what? Well, quite a lot of things with Constance. Something that was evident as she turned scarlet once again at the mention of biting. Her eyes widening as she quickly looked everywhere but at the volunteer and hoped that she just died on the spot. At least then no one could blame her for not trying something new!
"No no! That's okay! It's just, the little peck. Then I can cross this off my list of firsts!"
Constance nodded at Rayna's words, and took a deep breath to steady herself. She'd dealt with scarier things than this! Just a little peck on the cheek was nothing. She could do this! Normal people did this all the time, she had nothing to be worried about. This lady seemed really nice anyway. Her smile all warm and friendly, and patient with her every concern. It made her shoulders drop, feeling a bit more relaxed than she would have been with the sexy cowboy or the shirtless firefighter (and to be honest, the chef was kind of scaring here with the way they kept mean mugging the crowd).
"Mhmm." Constance nodded quickly, and closed her eyes at Rayna's question; thankful once again she was so patient. The ex-nun dressed witch leaned in, turning her head so the (very) pretty woman could press a kiss to her cheek.
"Well, it seems rather rude not to at least ask first...you're all working so hard." Constance chided to no one in particular. Her lips pulling into a slight pout that people would just be diving right in. Where was the decorum! The romance! Well...maybe those things don't really apply at a fairground kissing booth. She wouldn't really know..."This is...its my first time..."
First time for what? Well, quite a lot of things with Constance. Something that was evident as she turned scarlet once again at the mention of biting. Her eyes widening as she quickly looked everywhere but at the volunteer and hoped that she just died on the spot. At least then no one could blame her for not trying something new!
"No no! That's okay! It's just, the little peck. Then I can cross this off my list of firsts!"
Constance nodded at Rayna's words, and took a deep breath to steady herself. She'd dealt with scarier things than this! Just a little peck on the cheek was nothing. She could do this! Normal people did this all the time, she had nothing to be worried about. This lady seemed really nice anyway. Her smile all warm and friendly, and patient with her every concern. It made her shoulders drop, feeling a bit more relaxed than she would have been with the sexy cowboy or the shirtless firefighter (and to be honest, the chef was kind of scaring here with the way they kept mean mugging the crowd).
"Mhmm." Constance nodded quickly, and closed her eyes at Rayna's question; thankful once again she was so patient. The ex-nun dressed witch leaned in, turning her head so the (very) pretty woman could press a kiss to her cheek.
@Constance
Rayna couldn’t help it. The way the woman’s flustered rambling tugged a genuine smile to her lips. There was something endearing about it, all that proper modesty wrapped up in a fairground full of chaos. The poor thing was trying so hard to make sense of it all, trying even harder not to blush herself into unconsciousness.
Constance’s eyes fluttered closed, her head tilting just so. It would have been easy to do what she expected: a quick, polite brush to the cheek and done with it. But there was a trembling softness there that caught Rayna off guard. Something in the way she waited, trusting, like she’d convinced herself this was safe.
So Rayna let a smirk ghost over her lips, lowering her voice into something barely above a whisper. “For a first…” She murmured, leaning in closer, “…you deserve something a little more memorable.”
Before the words could even sink in, she closed the distance. Her soft lips meeting Constance’s, slow and deliberate. Not demanding, not teasing for show. It was just firm enough to make it real. The faint taste of sugar from the fair lingered between them, sweet and fleeting, before Rayna pulled back by an inch. Her eyes opened first, watching the ex-nun’s reaction with a half-smile curving her painted mouth. “There,” She said softly, amusement threading through her tone, “Now you can really cross it off the list.”
And because she couldn’t resist, Rayna winked before adding, “For the record, you’re a natural.”
Rayna couldn’t help it. The way the woman’s flustered rambling tugged a genuine smile to her lips. There was something endearing about it, all that proper modesty wrapped up in a fairground full of chaos. The poor thing was trying so hard to make sense of it all, trying even harder not to blush herself into unconsciousness.
Constance’s eyes fluttered closed, her head tilting just so. It would have been easy to do what she expected: a quick, polite brush to the cheek and done with it. But there was a trembling softness there that caught Rayna off guard. Something in the way she waited, trusting, like she’d convinced herself this was safe.
So Rayna let a smirk ghost over her lips, lowering her voice into something barely above a whisper. “For a first…” She murmured, leaning in closer, “…you deserve something a little more memorable.”
Before the words could even sink in, she closed the distance. Her soft lips meeting Constance’s, slow and deliberate. Not demanding, not teasing for show. It was just firm enough to make it real. The faint taste of sugar from the fair lingered between them, sweet and fleeting, before Rayna pulled back by an inch. Her eyes opened first, watching the ex-nun’s reaction with a half-smile curving her painted mouth. “There,” She said softly, amusement threading through her tone, “Now you can really cross it off the list.”
And because she couldn’t resist, Rayna winked before adding, “For the record, you’re a natural.”
@ Rayna
The thinnest, most adorable squeak fled from Constance's mouth as her innocent moment was immediately turned into a rich and warm kiss. The taste of sugar and spice, hinted with vanilla invading her senses. It was almost sweet, storybook-like, and for a split-second Constance leaned into the kiss. Her own mouth still tasting like church wafers and wine.
The ex-nun quickly reeled back, covering her mouth with both hands but it did nothing to hide the bright red flush that had returned. Constance swayed in place for a moment, her brain trying to catch up with what the heck had just happened!
"You! But! It...oh my..." Constance whimpered from behind her fingers. It didn't help that Rayna was one of the prettiest women that she had ever seen. The Catholic nun had never taken the time to question whether that type of appeal was aesthetically or physically, but now she was not so sure she had an easy answer...
"Thank you." she squeaked out, "You're very pretty!"
That was all Constance managed to get out before she went with the 'flee' option of her panic response. The ex-nun turning only robotically to the crowd, never once removing her hands from her face the entire time. Anyone who got close to her could hear her going, "Oh my...oh my oh my oh my...How the hell do I tell Luca about this!"
The thinnest, most adorable squeak fled from Constance's mouth as her innocent moment was immediately turned into a rich and warm kiss. The taste of sugar and spice, hinted with vanilla invading her senses. It was almost sweet, storybook-like, and for a split-second Constance leaned into the kiss. Her own mouth still tasting like church wafers and wine.
The ex-nun quickly reeled back, covering her mouth with both hands but it did nothing to hide the bright red flush that had returned. Constance swayed in place for a moment, her brain trying to catch up with what the heck had just happened!
"You! But! It...oh my..." Constance whimpered from behind her fingers. It didn't help that Rayna was one of the prettiest women that she had ever seen. The Catholic nun had never taken the time to question whether that type of appeal was aesthetically or physically, but now she was not so sure she had an easy answer...
"Thank you." she squeaked out, "You're very pretty!"
That was all Constance managed to get out before she went with the 'flee' option of her panic response. The ex-nun turning only robotically to the crowd, never once removing her hands from her face the entire time. Anyone who got close to her could hear her going, "Oh my...oh my oh my oh my...How the hell do I tell Luca about this!"
@Constance @Anyone open for conversation or customer
Rayna couldn’t help it. The sound that left her was a low, delighted laugh that shimmered over the noise of the crowd. The way the woman’s face went beet red, the flustered squeaks, the half-stammered thanks… it was adorable. Sweet, pure, and completely unexpected.
She tilted her head slightly, lips curving into a grin as she leaned just close enough for Constance to hear her through the noise and the music. “Oh, sweetheart,” She purred smooth as velvet and warm with mirth. “You might wanna start practicing that one song by Katy Perry, hm? ‘I kissed a girl and I liked it.’ He should get it!”
Rayna gave her a teasing wink, clearly pleased with herself, and straightened her jacket before turning to the next in line. As she moved, the lights from the booth danced across the faint shimmer of her lipstick, the same one Constance now wore traces of.
She caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye: Gandrell leaving, murmuring something to Jax and handing over responsibility before slipping into the crowd. Her brow arched slightly, curiosity flickering to life as she shifted her stance, watching the exchange for a beat before her attention slid toward the nearby group: Rowdy, Jax, Neriah, Thanasis, Jeanne, and Mercy all within range of her sharp tongue and easy charm.
For now, she let the corner of her mouth quirk up again, the green in her eyes practically glowing under the string lights. “Well,” She said aloud, open for anyone to comment, “Looks like the fun’s just gettin’ started.”
Rayna couldn’t help it. The sound that left her was a low, delighted laugh that shimmered over the noise of the crowd. The way the woman’s face went beet red, the flustered squeaks, the half-stammered thanks… it was adorable. Sweet, pure, and completely unexpected.
She tilted her head slightly, lips curving into a grin as she leaned just close enough for Constance to hear her through the noise and the music. “Oh, sweetheart,” She purred smooth as velvet and warm with mirth. “You might wanna start practicing that one song by Katy Perry, hm? ‘I kissed a girl and I liked it.’ He should get it!”
Rayna gave her a teasing wink, clearly pleased with herself, and straightened her jacket before turning to the next in line. As she moved, the lights from the booth danced across the faint shimmer of her lipstick, the same one Constance now wore traces of.
She caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye: Gandrell leaving, murmuring something to Jax and handing over responsibility before slipping into the crowd. Her brow arched slightly, curiosity flickering to life as she shifted her stance, watching the exchange for a beat before her attention slid toward the nearby group: Rowdy, Jax, Neriah, Thanasis, Jeanne, and Mercy all within range of her sharp tongue and easy charm.
For now, she let the corner of her mouth quirk up again, the green in her eyes practically glowing under the string lights. “Well,” She said aloud, open for anyone to comment, “Looks like the fun’s just gettin’ started.”
@Jeanne
The kissing booth was back! Aubree stood, looking at the sign with a wicked smile on her face for a good five minutes before she went looking for it. She remembered the wolf from last year, and the overall energy of it. Grinning, Aubree stepped up to the kissing booth, shoes clicking on the pavement. Although her outfit last year was simple, she put more care into it this year. Her leather jacket hugged her shoulders, the pink ribbons in her hair bouncing slightly with each confident step. The short pink “Barbie” dress was tight around her thighs as she scanned the crowd.
Rowdy caught her eye first, still gorgeous as he was last year in that firemen’s outfit. A mischievous grin spread across her face. She gave him a playful nod, letting him know she remembered last year’s hot kiss. “Not forgetting last year, huh?” She murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.
She let her gaze drift over Rayna, Jax, Thanasis, Mercy, and Neriah, catching their reactions with a quick, appraising glance. But it was a certain new face that she found herself studying.
Aubree felt a flicker of curiosity as she looked over at Jeanne. She didn’t know anything about them, but there was something magnetic in the way they held themselves. Aubree stepped closer, holding out the booth ticket with a grin. “Alright, She said, her Scottish lilt soft but teasing, “I don’t remember seeing you last year. But I’d like another memory for the rest of this one.” She had a wicked smile on her face as she held out her ticket to them.
The kissing booth was back! Aubree stood, looking at the sign with a wicked smile on her face for a good five minutes before she went looking for it. She remembered the wolf from last year, and the overall energy of it. Grinning, Aubree stepped up to the kissing booth, shoes clicking on the pavement. Although her outfit last year was simple, she put more care into it this year. Her leather jacket hugged her shoulders, the pink ribbons in her hair bouncing slightly with each confident step. The short pink “Barbie” dress was tight around her thighs as she scanned the crowd.
Rowdy caught her eye first, still gorgeous as he was last year in that firemen’s outfit. A mischievous grin spread across her face. She gave him a playful nod, letting him know she remembered last year’s hot kiss. “Not forgetting last year, huh?” She murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.
She let her gaze drift over Rayna, Jax, Thanasis, Mercy, and Neriah, catching their reactions with a quick, appraising glance. But it was a certain new face that she found herself studying.
Aubree felt a flicker of curiosity as she looked over at Jeanne. She didn’t know anything about them, but there was something magnetic in the way they held themselves. Aubree stepped closer, holding out the booth ticket with a grin. “Alright, She said, her Scottish lilt soft but teasing, “I don’t remember seeing you last year. But I’d like another memory for the rest of this one.” She had a wicked smile on her face as she held out her ticket to them.
@ Aubree
Jeanne had picked up the cigarette again, enjoying the quiet moment as they watched shenanigans unfold around her. Prostitute nuns and real nuns and talks about strippers. It was all unfolding into the kind of chaotic night that was her daily expectation. At least in this case, they were getting to have a little fun alongside the rest of them. The sound of an unfamiliar accent and a flash of pink pulled Jeanne out of their unfocused gaze, earning an easy smile as it settled along the blonde.
Could that dress get any shorter? Not that that was a complaint on their end.
"Ah the Scots and the French, figure we can do something to piss the British off." Jeanne chuckled, snagging the ticket out of her hand and tucking it into their back pocket. The faux-chef wore an easy grin, more than a little entertained by the fact that they were quickly becoming the lady's choice for the evening; and in their stupid costume no less. Aubree had clearly put in more effort in dressing up than them. Pink was not exactly Jeanne's style, but they could admire the way the bright colours brought all eyes on her.
"You know, I never had a thing for barbies as a kid, but maybe I should've." Jeanne crooked her finger, motioning for the woman to lean in closer. If she did so, they'd slide their fingers up along to grasp her chin to angle her upward. The scent of nicotine and motor oil clinging to their skin as they lingered in the moment. Let it stretch out, waiting until her breath caught or eye dilated just so. Jeanne found it was always the build up that made a kiss memorable.
Jeanne had picked up the cigarette again, enjoying the quiet moment as they watched shenanigans unfold around her. Prostitute nuns and real nuns and talks about strippers. It was all unfolding into the kind of chaotic night that was her daily expectation. At least in this case, they were getting to have a little fun alongside the rest of them. The sound of an unfamiliar accent and a flash of pink pulled Jeanne out of their unfocused gaze, earning an easy smile as it settled along the blonde.
Could that dress get any shorter? Not that that was a complaint on their end.
"Ah the Scots and the French, figure we can do something to piss the British off." Jeanne chuckled, snagging the ticket out of her hand and tucking it into their back pocket. The faux-chef wore an easy grin, more than a little entertained by the fact that they were quickly becoming the lady's choice for the evening; and in their stupid costume no less. Aubree had clearly put in more effort in dressing up than them. Pink was not exactly Jeanne's style, but they could admire the way the bright colours brought all eyes on her.
"You know, I never had a thing for barbies as a kid, but maybe I should've." Jeanne crooked her finger, motioning for the woman to lean in closer. If she did so, they'd slide their fingers up along to grasp her chin to angle her upward. The scent of nicotine and motor oil clinging to their skin as they lingered in the moment. Let it stretch out, waiting until her breath caught or eye dilated just so. Jeanne found it was always the build up that made a kiss memorable.
@Jeanne
Aubree’s grin curved slow, sharp, and sure. The kind that said she was perfectly aware of the attention she commanded, and more than happy to let it hang there a second longer. The pink fabric shifted against her thighs as she leaned a little closer, boots steady, shoulders relaxed.
“Ach, ye’ll find we Scots are good at pissing folk off,” She admitted, her voice a low purr of an accent, honeyed and teasing, “especially the British. Consider it a pastime.” The corner of her mouth twitched upward when Jeanne took the ticket, tucking it away so casually, so bold. Her eyes followed the motion, then lifted again to meet theirs, catching the gleam of mischief there.
She let out a quiet, amused breath. “Faux-chef, eh? Hope ye dinnae burn the kitchen down. Though I’ll admit, ye wear the apron better than I’d have thought.”
When Jeanne crooked their finger, Aubree didn’t hesitate. She stepped in until the leather of her jacket brushed their arm, tilting her head just slightly as their fingers slid beneath her chin. The touch was warm, rough-edged, smelling faintly of smoke and steel. Her pulse skipped once—just once—before she steadied it.
Her gaze flicked up through her lashes, voice dropping softer, lower. “Careful, chef,” She mused, the words tasting of amusement and challenge alike. “Ye start a build-up like that, I might just finish it.”
Her hand slid up the front of Jeanne’s shirt, curling at the collar to tug them just close enough. “Aye, well,” She murmured, her accent deepening into a velvet growl, “Ye took too long.”
Then she kissed them. Not soft, nor shy. Aubree kissed like the storm she was. The kind that started slow but burned hotter with every second. It was a claiming sort of kiss, confident and unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world and fully intended to use it. The scent of smoke and motor oil tangled with her perfume, sharp leather and sweet heat mixing between them.
When she finally broke the kiss, her lips hovered close enough that Jeanne could still feel her breath ghost against them. “Now,” She said quietly, a flicker of amusement curling her tone, “that’s how ye make it memorable.”
She stepped back, her eyes moving over the other patrons to the booth, smoothing her jacket with a wicked smile and a glint in her eye that promised she’d enjoyed every second of it.
Aubree’s grin curved slow, sharp, and sure. The kind that said she was perfectly aware of the attention she commanded, and more than happy to let it hang there a second longer. The pink fabric shifted against her thighs as she leaned a little closer, boots steady, shoulders relaxed.
“Ach, ye’ll find we Scots are good at pissing folk off,” She admitted, her voice a low purr of an accent, honeyed and teasing, “especially the British. Consider it a pastime.” The corner of her mouth twitched upward when Jeanne took the ticket, tucking it away so casually, so bold. Her eyes followed the motion, then lifted again to meet theirs, catching the gleam of mischief there.
She let out a quiet, amused breath. “Faux-chef, eh? Hope ye dinnae burn the kitchen down. Though I’ll admit, ye wear the apron better than I’d have thought.”
When Jeanne crooked their finger, Aubree didn’t hesitate. She stepped in until the leather of her jacket brushed their arm, tilting her head just slightly as their fingers slid beneath her chin. The touch was warm, rough-edged, smelling faintly of smoke and steel. Her pulse skipped once—just once—before she steadied it.
Her gaze flicked up through her lashes, voice dropping softer, lower. “Careful, chef,” She mused, the words tasting of amusement and challenge alike. “Ye start a build-up like that, I might just finish it.”
Her hand slid up the front of Jeanne’s shirt, curling at the collar to tug them just close enough. “Aye, well,” She murmured, her accent deepening into a velvet growl, “Ye took too long.”
Then she kissed them. Not soft, nor shy. Aubree kissed like the storm she was. The kind that started slow but burned hotter with every second. It was a claiming sort of kiss, confident and unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world and fully intended to use it. The scent of smoke and motor oil tangled with her perfume, sharp leather and sweet heat mixing between them.
When she finally broke the kiss, her lips hovered close enough that Jeanne could still feel her breath ghost against them. “Now,” She said quietly, a flicker of amusement curling her tone, “that’s how ye make it memorable.”
She stepped back, her eyes moving over the other patrons to the booth, smoothing her jacket with a wicked smile and a glint in her eye that promised she’d enjoyed every second of it.
The Grand Duke had been in a funk for months now. He had ventured away from his home in Kent, England to a hole in the wall in Florida only to have disappointment after disappointment befall him. It was an attempt at pulling himself from the ashes and shining a little light on an otherwise sunless day. Fitzpatrick wasn’t normally a doom and gloom kind of fellow. His normal posture was carefree and fun-loving. He was always very business minded – keeping up the appropriate image for the title and position he held – but he wasn’t a stick in the mud.
His companion and himself had met for drinks and business chat at a local watering hole. They completed the business dealings and had moved on to life in general, which had brought on several additional consecutive rounds of drinks as they found they had more in common than they originally assumed. With the tab closed out, and both of them in better spirits, they decided to be on the responsible side and walk for a while until they felt it was appropriate for either of them to drive. Neither was drunk due to what they truly were but, for public figures, image is everything and going straight from a barstool to their vehicles would just look bad.
The path they decided to take dead ended into a fall festival of sorts. Costumed families milled about, while booths featuring everything from fortune telling to make your own candied apples were in rows strategically placed to draw you in and keep you ingulfed in the whimsy. Festivals were not a place they would normally seek out on their own, but being in shared good spirits, why not. The friends wandered around, checking out booths and finding they shared the same cynical humor as they people watched and remarked.
It was during this wandering that the pair came upon a kissing booth. The Grand Duke paused, looking at the motley crew behind the booth that were waiting for customers desiring a kiss. He looked over to his friend and asked, “I’ll get the tickets if you will do it.” An agreement was struck and Fitzpatrick headed off to buy some tickets. They didn’t have change for the size bill he had, so he just got a ton of tickets. Rejoining his friend, he handed him half the exorbitant number of tickets he held and nodded to the booth. “Ready or not?”
As they approached Fitzpatrick spotted a woman in a green and black skintight jumpsuit giving off super villain vibes. Her glossy black hair and green eyes drew his attention, and he approached with a polite smile. “One please,” he said sounding like more of a tight ass then he intended. He held the ticket between the tips of his middle of forefinger. “So, how does this work? You take the ticket then we just…go for it?”
His companion and himself had met for drinks and business chat at a local watering hole. They completed the business dealings and had moved on to life in general, which had brought on several additional consecutive rounds of drinks as they found they had more in common than they originally assumed. With the tab closed out, and both of them in better spirits, they decided to be on the responsible side and walk for a while until they felt it was appropriate for either of them to drive. Neither was drunk due to what they truly were but, for public figures, image is everything and going straight from a barstool to their vehicles would just look bad.
The path they decided to take dead ended into a fall festival of sorts. Costumed families milled about, while booths featuring everything from fortune telling to make your own candied apples were in rows strategically placed to draw you in and keep you ingulfed in the whimsy. Festivals were not a place they would normally seek out on their own, but being in shared good spirits, why not. The friends wandered around, checking out booths and finding they shared the same cynical humor as they people watched and remarked.
It was during this wandering that the pair came upon a kissing booth. The Grand Duke paused, looking at the motley crew behind the booth that were waiting for customers desiring a kiss. He looked over to his friend and asked, “I’ll get the tickets if you will do it.” An agreement was struck and Fitzpatrick headed off to buy some tickets. They didn’t have change for the size bill he had, so he just got a ton of tickets. Rejoining his friend, he handed him half the exorbitant number of tickets he held and nodded to the booth. “Ready or not?”
As they approached Fitzpatrick spotted a woman in a green and black skintight jumpsuit giving off super villain vibes. Her glossy black hair and green eyes drew his attention, and he approached with a polite smile. “One please,” he said sounding like more of a tight ass then he intended. He held the ticket between the tips of his middle of forefinger. “So, how does this work? You take the ticket then we just…go for it?”
Red hadn’t planned on ending his night in a damn kissing booth. Hell, he hadn’t even planned on staying in town. Halloween had a way of pulling him into stupid decisions, though, and maybe the bourbon had a heavier hand in it than he wanted to admit. He’d been listening to Fitz all night, one part charming aristocrat, two parts disaster wrapped in good breeding, and somewhere between another round and a half-sincere toast to bad choices, he’d agreed to “walk it off.” Now they were surrounded by pumpkins, fake cobwebs, and children in cheap plastic fangs.
And then came the booth.
The Grand Duke had looked at him with that sly, little spark that said this was going to cost him something later. Fitz hadn’t said it outright, but that grin and the sudden overpayment in festival tickets? Yeah. Subtle as a gunshot in church.
Still, Red wasn’t above playing along. The chaos in him sometimes demanded it. He flicked one of the tickets between his fingers, smirk tugging lazy at the corner of his mouth as he leaned against the post beside the booth to look around. Blue eyes moved slowly over each of them, pausing on Neriah for half a beat longer, before landing on a little cowgirl. She was cute, and he stepped forward. “Guess chivalry’s not dead after all.” He mused to himself.
He glanced sidelong at Fitz, bit back a grin at his question to Rayna, then back to the woman in the cowboy hat. He smirked down at the ticket, then held it out to her. “Evenin’, darlin. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to one of these. Think you could help me remember?” It was ridiculous, but just cheesy enough to make the alcohol running in his system laugh a bit.
And then came the booth.
The Grand Duke had looked at him with that sly, little spark that said this was going to cost him something later. Fitz hadn’t said it outright, but that grin and the sudden overpayment in festival tickets? Yeah. Subtle as a gunshot in church.
Still, Red wasn’t above playing along. The chaos in him sometimes demanded it. He flicked one of the tickets between his fingers, smirk tugging lazy at the corner of his mouth as he leaned against the post beside the booth to look around. Blue eyes moved slowly over each of them, pausing on Neriah for half a beat longer, before landing on a little cowgirl. She was cute, and he stepped forward. “Guess chivalry’s not dead after all.” He mused to himself.
He glanced sidelong at Fitz, bit back a grin at his question to Rayna, then back to the woman in the cowboy hat. He smirked down at the ticket, then held it out to her. “Evenin’, darlin. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to one of these. Think you could help me remember?” It was ridiculous, but just cheesy enough to make the alcohol running in his system laugh a bit.
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