Moxley's Girl

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50’s Au

basically i was listening to Imelda May and watching old shield shit and realize really violent dean is my fave sooo this mess came out lmao its pretty shit and really o.o.c but i had fun
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For a gal who likes to consider herself...well relatively classy, and as someone who holds herself up to some relatively high standards, Naomi wouldn't of never thought she would willingly find herself sitting in a seedy little bar on the rougher side of Cincinnati but yet here she was. Sitting on a uncomfortable barstool, dressed in a pretty little red dress while nursing a sidecar as she waited. Every now and then she would glance over at the door, she swore he said he would be right back twenty minutes ago.

Sighing, she knew that he knew that she wasn't going ANYWHERE without him...this was his domain and if she was being honest with herself she didn't know this area well enough not to get lost and wind up a stiff on the corner.
She was positive her family would have an absolute fit about that, she could practically hear her mama agony filled cried...she better slow down on the drinks, she was getting unnecessarily emotional. Not something she wanted to do in a place like this.

But while this place was...shabby would be the most polite word she would use for it, Naomi knew that no one with a lick of sense would bother her here, not when she had a rep for being his girl.

Pushing a stray hair behind her ear, Naomi took this time to check her appearance, taking out her compact. Her hair was still in her loose curls reminisce of Dorothy Dandridge (which took her good friend Alicia so long to get settled correctly.) Her bright red lipstick still was vividly bright, and her eye makeup was still in tact, she looked like a vision if you asked her.

And apparently someone else did.

“Well aren't you a sight to behold,” Naomi gasped a bit startled, she was so caught up in her mind she didn't notice a young gentleman slide onto the bar stool next to her. “What's a doll like you doing in a joint like this?” Naomi didn't know what to say, she wasn't exactly sure what to do in these situations! Where was he at?!

She took a moment to look over this man, she thought she stood out? This boy looked like he was from the right side of the tracks and was probably just here to see all the poorer folks and how they lived. But that didn't stop the alarms from ringing in her head, .

Okay, while it wasn't that she couldn't protect herself if needed, she could her father taught her some defensive moves (He went to say you'd never know when you say something to the wrong white person and they got violent...you damn sure know that the police wasn't going to help a negro woman. ) But, still she would've felt better if she had him to deal with it.

Unfortunately she didn't, so clearing her throat and mentally hiking up her big girl knickers as she took a sip of her drink before speaking. Her slight southern accent slipping out as she did so.

“I'm waiting.” Simple answer that shouldn't need explanation. Her tone indicating that she would rather NOT be having this conversation. But you know men are dense and can't pick up that a gal wasn't vibing with them, so of course he hit her with a few follow up questions, he even made himself more comfortable, deciding to rest his arm against the back of her stool and ordered them both another drink.

“A fake out huh? Some men are fools for letting such dolls slip through their fingers.” Naomi couldn't stop herself from cocking an eyebrow at that. She never said anything about a fake out. She had to physically shift away from the man so that he wouldn't tuck that pesky hair out her face. It can stay, it wasn't bothering her.

Unlike him.

“He didn't fake out, he stepped out for a minute.” She informed him as she took another sip of her drink. She really hoped that he would leave before… her thoughts was cut short because she could feel the energy shift in the bar and she didn't have to look at the door to know that he was back from handling his business and she just KNEW he wasn't in a good mood. Steeling her nerves for the confrontation that she knew was about to happen she turned her head to look at the door.

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