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@margotlucan
'everything ends' and that's the saddest thing i'll ever hear.
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↦ closed starter / margot lucan @margotlucan ↦ location: the whiskey barrel
"You know," Benny said as he drew a dry towel across a fresh glass, "that kid comes in more now that you're home than he used to. I swear I didn't think it was possible, but I guess I owe you for it." Benny poured Margot's drink and placed it in front of her as he continued speaking. "I mean, he's basically paying the bills here as it is. Least I could do is give you a free drink." He shot Margot a knowing look, letting her know that he was giving her a hard time. He didn't seriously give a damn about whatever was going on between her and Kit, or her and anyone for that matter. Unless it involved him, Benny wasn't one to pay too much attention. "You settling back in here?" He didn't mention her mother's passing, knowing better.
The snort that shot out of her was anything but ladylike. “If you noticed, bet others did too. Soon they’ll say I am the reason he has drinking problems, just wait.” It was embarrassing how excited she got at the mention of Kit without even hearing his name. It didn’t have to be said, those two were like the most fucked up packaged deal this town has ever seen. “You know me, Benny. Where I go, beautiful things follow.” Tracing a circle in the air right in front of him, she grinned before grabbing the drink he poured her. “That’s why you’re always here, right? No other reason.” Like him being the damn owner. Downing half of her whiskey in a single sip, she rolled her shoulders and leaned toward Benito, mulling over his question for a second before offering half a smile and a nod. “Yeah. It could go smoother, but it’ll do.”
LOCATION: The Whiskey Barrel CLOSED STARTER for @margotlucan
There was no doubt that Margot was extremely pretty. Henry always found himself staring when she came into the bar, so today was no different. When she walked in Henry rushed over to get her order, he tried to play it cool. "Hey, what can I get you?" He smirked, his eyes flicking down to get a peek at her figure. "The first one is on the house."
Her head spun around so quickly to look at Henry, Margot could feel her hair whip around as she mustered the familiar man with a smile. He was never far away, was he? “Hey you.” She was about to place her order when her gaze followed his, a knowing smirk on her lips as she gently and rather swiftly flicked her index finger against his chin. “Yeah. First one is on the house, sugar.” They both damn well knew she didn’t mean the drink, blunt little thing checking her out like that. “So you better get me whiskey neat and let me pay for it or Benny will have my ass in none of the fun ways.”
Beck had gone from being playfully annoyed with the woman to legitimately furious in two syllables. He saw red, anger overtaking his body as his hand reached up to grab her collar almost with a will of its own. "One warning, Lucan. Don't ever fuckin' call me Becky again, or I don't give a damn who your parents are, you won't work another day on this ranch." The words left his lips as something barely discernible from a growl, teeth gritted together. All he heard when he heard that name was the words of teenage bullies on cheerleading squads or football teams. Becky. Bex. Rebecca. They all disgusted him. He'd gone by Beck as long as he could remember, changing it to Beckett almost entirely so he had a different answer when people asked if it was short for anything. "It's Beck, or Beckett. I'll even take Peach, or Plum, or Strawberry, or whatever other ridiculous shit you gotta say, but it ain't Becky. Ever."
He withdrew his hand again, shaking his head and taking a step back, lifting a hand to his cigarette again to tap some of the ash away. If he had a second to think about it, he knew Margot didn't mean nothin' by the nickname. It was just her way of giving him shit, like when she called Kit 'Kitty', but it wasn't a habit he wanted to foster. Not when it came to him. He was calmer again after the brief outburst, giving her a low sigh. "Now why do you gotta do that, huh? Here I am about to make a nice gesture, and you gotta be a pain in my ass about it. No, I gotta know what your plans are so I can make arrangements in plenty of time to get rid o' the body. Asshole." He rolled his eyes at her. "Hangem is competing in American Performance Horseman, with one of the trainers we pay to compete on him. And Morgan who rides Gibson is taking part, too. Kit's coming, and my niece and nephew are coming, and we're gonna make a day of it. I'm inviting you. But you'd better not embarrass me."
There were moments of clarity in life. For Margot they usually followed by a big fuck-up followed by reflecting. This was a moment of clarity. Just one that made her realize this was why she didn’t truly like Beck. Self-righteous prick. The second his hand grabbed her collar with force, her stomach bottomed out. You don’t grow up rebelling against an angry man to tolerate them later in your adult life, especially from someone you were forced to work with. Sure, his words made sense. She could connect some dots, probably some childhood trauma. Who didn’t have this shit? But it wasn’t a reason for him to ever touch her. As soon as their grip loosened, she slapped his hand away, but immediately took a step back. Unlike him, she didn’t need to growl like a feral prick. With an almost detached tone, she gave him a once-over. “One promise, Beck. If you ever put your hands on me again or threaten my livelihood, it’ll be the last thing you do. You fucking dickhead, I didn’t get this job because of my parents.” Not like she had any, with an abusive stepfather and a recently deceased mother. “I got it because I made something of myself. You could do the same if you attend therapy. Fuckin’ hell.”
Turning around, she started packing her things, putting them into her bag with a bit more force than necessary. She could see reason. People had baggage. She wasn’t gonna unwrap her own shit with him but she sure as shit wouldn’t accept being his punchingbag because of apparent unresolved trauma. She could hear them mumble about nice gestures, which only made her look over her shoulder. “Go fuck yourself.” Picking up the bag, she slung it over her shoulder and started walking away while he was still talking. For a second, she considered swallowing her pride, but then they just added on. ‘Better not embarrass me.’ “Oh, you should be so fucking lucky.” She was an Olympic Show Jumper. She didn’t like to flaunt it but who the fuck did this guy think he was? Were they good at their job? Apparently not, cause if they’d rubbed those brain cells together, they’d beg her to come and rizz up her connections for him. “You kids have fun. I'm out.”
↦ closed starter / margot lucan @margotlucan ↦ location: margot's bedroom @ stone well ranch
Flopping herself back onto Margot's bed, Mickey groaned loudly to herself. "I know I asked for your help finding an outfit for this stupid hoedown thing at the base, but I changed my mind." Texas had a certain attire, and as much as she could see western wear was making a comeback, Mickey wasn't one to every care enough to follow fashion that closely. In fact, she was perfectly content in her black boots, skinny jeans and NAVY tee, but apparently that wasn't going to cut it. She sat up and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she eyed Margot's closet door carefully. "You look so cute in all of this, but I'm going to look like a clown. Literally, a rodeo clown playing dress up."
“Stop bitchin’.” Her muffled voice came from the closet, Margot on all fours and head covered in whatever dress was still on the hanger, most of them now scattered on the floor of her bedroom. When Mickey asked to borrow an outfit, Margot lit up like a Christmas Tree on fire with no fire extinguisher anywhere in sight. Growing up with three brothers, only one of them let her dress him up as a kid, and that just didn’t fly. Besides, Mickey was prettier anyway. “You didn’t change jackshit, you’re just hungry and I told you I’d feed you.” Popping her head out, she sat down on the ground to look at the other woman. “ - as soon as you pick something out.” Scooching over, when she got close enough, she gently gripped Mickey’s knees to pull herself close while still sitting on the floor. “These, sugar.” Putting a bundle of clothes onto her lip, she grinned up. “You won’t look like a clown, you’ll look like a cowgirl sexbomb on steroids. It’ll be so good.”
"Don't fuckin' call me Peach," Beck sighed. Margot was the biggest pain in his ass. She seemed to enjoy being a nuisance. It might have been hot if she wasn't off limits on account of already fuckin' his buddy. Couldn't even get their frustrations out by having a quickie together in the hay loft. The fact Margot thought she could tell Beck anything about how to handle clients was amusing. She had her charm about her, that much was true, but Beck sometimes had no clue why Brett had even hired her. She didn't seem to give a damn about roping or cutting or cow horse. "My clients buy from me 'cause I know what the hell I'm talkin' about and I get 'em what they want. I save my jokes for Benny's bar."
Beck was afraid she was going to snuff out his cigarette on the ground when she grabbed it, but what she actually did might have been even worse, taking it from his lips to smoke a drag, then returning it to him. "This is a real funny way of trading saliva with me, Lucan," they answered. "Does Kit know you're sharin' cigarettes and spit with other boys?" Weren't gonna waste the rest of a good cigarette though, so they continued smoking it, leaning against the outer wall of the barn. "What're you doing July 19th?" He asked, changing the subject as quickly as possible. She only enjoyed herself more if he let her get to him.
“Oh, Becky. You’re preaching to the choir here. I know damn well you’re good at your job. Do you think I’d do this to any of those duds?“ Pointing with her thumb over her shoulder, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest. ”You can handle it. So stop crying about it or you’ll shatter my image of you.“ For what it was worth, this was the closest Margot had gotten to giving Beck a compliment. Well, other than calling them ‘hot’ three times a week just to annoy them. But in her book, that didn’t count as far as compliments go. Anyone could be lazy and compliment someone’s appearance. That shit didn’t matter.
“Is it? I know far better ways.” Rolling her eyes at the mention of Kit, she wasn’t delusional enough to think Beck wasn’t part of the insider circle who knew at least some of the turbulences occurring between them - and that was a mild way of putting it. “Don’t worry about it, Sugar. Kit likes you. He’d be delighted to hear you finally came anywhere close to first base with anyone.” As if anyone as hot as Beck would have problems with that. Well, there was one issue - his mouth. But that could be put to use. Just not with her. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me what I’ll be doing July 19th. So, what is it, bossman? And let me warn you, if you plan to sacrifice a virgin - I am not the right candidate.”
There were times Kit swore up and down he'd never let Margot Lucan get to him, never let her turn him right back into her little plaything and then toss him aside like she always did... And then she'd roll back around like the tornado she was, picking him up and shaking him all over like a snow globe before dropping him to the ground on her way out of town. He hadn't managed to stand his ground yet, and Kit could already feel it in his bones that this one wasn't going to be it either.
Every time she spoke to him this way, Kit could feel that ten year old boy inside him sitting up, waking up and brushing the dust off like he had just woken up from a deep sleep. The same kid who'd asked Margot if she'd ever been kissed just so he could kiss her, the one who became a grown man who couldn't stop wanting that same woman to kiss him right now, was slowly breaking down the resolve he had already barely managed to put together. "Damn it, Lucan," he said with a shake of his head before he reached up and pulled his hat off. He sat it on a hook meant for ropes near the stall door before crossing the aisle. It didn't take him more than a couple heartbeats before he was pushing her back against the stall door, his body meeting hers with every bit of desire in him. "Don't act like you don't know I want you," he said with a gruffness in his voice before crashing his lips to hers for the first time in years.
“Damn yourself, Kitty.” Her hip pressed against wood as a small smile cracked on her lips. She loved the way he said her name because it sounded so very different from when he called her brothers by their last name. There was always a distinction, at least to her ears. She loved it so much, it made teen Margot sad she might not hear it again when her hormonal, delusional brain used to make her scribble ‘Margot McGrady’ into an old notebook. If that silly girl could see them now, her heart would break. But the woman Margot became admired him all the same. So the way he crossed the aisle made her heart pick up pace. It probably shouldn’t be hot how he abandoned his hat, how his stride didn’t hesitate to come near her, but sanity was long lost when it came to Kit. She didn’t step aside when he walked into her, anticipating the full body contact until she was trapped between him and the hard surface of the stall door, both hands landing on his hips. Any bliss was short-lived lived but she could relish in this one forever. “It’s not an act.” Her eyes met his so fiercely, her words could easily be mistaken for a joke, but Margot had long lost confidence that Kit actually wanted her. At least not like he used to. They had lost their innocence, or maybe she grew into the person everyone always accused her of being. This would have to do. “I don’t.” He snuffed her smile with a kiss that made her sigh against his lips. ‘Welcome home’ - that’s what it felt like.
One of her hands traveled up his side and gently clutched his neck as she deepened the kiss. It suddenly didn’t matter that there hadn’t been a grand reunion when she moved back. “Show me.” Her thumb traced his jawline until she tipped his chin upward, leaving kisses on his jaw, down to his neck until she reached his ear, face buried against him as much as possible. “Tell me.” Lingering for a moment, her hand cupped the back of his head, fingertips tangling hair as she looked him in the eyes again. “It’s okay if you lie.”
↦ closed starter / margot lucan @margotlucan ↦ location: stone well ranch barn
Kit hated the fact that Margot being home meant she was everywhere—more so than usual, popping up unexpectedly when he'd gotten so damn used to knowing the corners her memory haunted. Now, he didn't just have to avoid certain stalls in the barn that held memories, he had to be prepared to round the corner and find himself face-to-face with the devil herself. It wasn't really fair, honestly, when he'd been here the entire time and she hadn't. This place belonged to her, of course, but it was just as much his blood, sweat and tears that kept it running day after day. He couldn't imagine leaving to find work anywhere else, but that decision hung over him more on the days Margot wasn't off at work.
He'd thought for sure she was at Golden Oaks, probably working with Beck and his team, but Kit was wrong. Kit had stepped out of a stall and latched it shut when he heard the footsteps falling behind him. Rolling his eyes, Kit turned slowly and leaned back against the stall door. He looped his thumbs into his pockets. "I guess it's about time," he said. "I was beginning to think I was pressing my luck not running into you much."
In another life, one where she wasn’t so severely terrified of the L-word, she’d be sitting on the couch, gently brushing her fingers through the curly hair she watched disappear into the barn twenty minutes ago. If life had been kinder, Kit McGrady would be the first thing she saw in the morning and the last thing she saw at night. But no such luck. At least it was kind enough to keep him away from her. So the cruelty of following him inside after all the contemplation of doing so wasn’t lost on her. She just couldn’t help herself. As soon as she was back in his orbit, there was this pull to be close to him. He’d always been her safety net; it wasn’t his fault she had burned holes in it.
Her boots echoed down the barn. She had no reason to be here; she just needed to look at him for a moment. Stone Well wasn’t really the same when she couldn’t steal a glance at those dark eyes. The same ones who rolled when he spotted her, making the pit of her stomach tighten. What can one do when the only comforting person was no longer interested in providing comfort?
“You don’t need to be worried about your performance. You’ve avoided me swimmingly. Beat your record from last time, actually.” Mirroring him, she leaned against the stall across, one arm slung against the frame as her hip hit the wood with a creak. She was intentionally keeping a safe distance, but was still close enough to study his pretty face like she had done all their lives. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, McGrady. No one’s put so much effort into not seeing me in years. Keep going and I’ll swoon.”
Starter For: @margotlucan Location: Golden Oak Performance Horses
"Margot, ya know I don't like to get serious," Beck grumbled. "But you gotta watch your words in front of the clients." Management was new to Beck. He knew what the hell he was talking about with the horses and the bloodlines and the training, but the people aspect of it, the telling other people what to do? Beck wasn't sure he was cut out for it. He and Margot had a strange relationship. She was smart, knew her shit, and her family were long-time collaborators, Brett's relationship with the Lucans going back to his father, and grandfather before him, but man, they could drive each other crazy.
"You can't tell a customer I hate the discipline they're buyin' a horse for, even if it's true." He took a drag of the cigarette between his lips, eyes narrowing at her. "And it's only partly true, by the way," he added, as if it mattered. "I hate the shitty barrel racers, not all barrel racers." It was just a fact that a bunch of 'em didn't know what they were doing and treated their horses like crap. They learned to run in circles real fast and not use their damn brain. Didn't matter, though. A client was a client. Beck didn't have to like the discipline to find 'em the best horse for their needs.
“You don’t? Shit, could’ve fooled me, peach.” Her words snapped back nonchalantly as she hoisted the saddle onto her hip. She knew this was coming the second she joked around Beck. Gotta be careful when you walk on a minefield, could go off at any point. Lucky for them, she had to practise tiptoeing since childhood. Unlucky for them, she liked to watch shit go boom. “You gotta watch your charisma around clients. If you make them laugh once in a while, they’ll still shove their money into your pockets, sugar. Sometimes even more willingly.” Stopping in front of Beck, she mustered him with understanding. He wasn’t wrong, she knew the line and sometimes skipped over it. But she also didn’t appreciate the implication she’d blow a business deal on purpose. She got hired because she was good for business deals, a flashy little name you can put on your website. Guess it helped that she was really good with horses.
Rolling her eyes, she shoved the saddle onto the stand with trained movement. It didn’t matter how annoying Beck could be, they were absolutely good at his job and she had to respect his respect for the job. It was admirable, really. “I hear ya, boss. I’ll try to keep the personal touch to a minimum from now on.” Rubbing her hands on her jeans, she turned towards Beck with a grin that was so telling, they probably knew it wasn’t her last word before her lips even parted. “But don’t worry. Not around you.” Reaching forward, she plucked the cigarette from his mouth, quickly taking a drag before offering it back. “Never around you. You’d get bored out of your crispy little mind, plum.”