Disclaimer: I don't own anything from MKX except this crazy little plot... lol
Author's Note: So this is supposed to be the last fic entry of the CageBlade week thingy I did with my mates from my discord. I haven't kept up with them as I would've liked because my Muse ran away from me... anyway. This is set in an AU where Sonya is still Major Blade, Johnny is Johnny, but they live in today's world. This was also inspired by a song called "Dancing with a Stranger" by Sam Smith and Normani, so that song and its lyrics don't belong to me either. Give it a listen if you want. I hope you guys enjoy this one!
Day 8 (bonus) - Dance
Long blond hair falls in soft wisps around the woman as she sits at the bar. She flips it behind her and crosses her legs carefully over the other. She raises her hand, signaling to the bartender. He goes to her and he leans in close. Whispering something in his ear, she lights up when he recognizes her request. With a wink, he goes to make her drink. And she looks around, taking in her surroundings.
From his VIP seat, the famous actor stares directly at the familiar woman as she swings her leg back and forth against the stool she's sitting on. With a smile, she thanks the bartender for her drink, taking the straw in her mouth and sucking lightly, obviously pleased with the taste. She digs into her impractical silver purse and pulls out a few bills. If he squints, he could make out the twenty dollar bills in her arsenal. But he's not looking too hard at her money. He's instead looking at her outfit.
The leggy blonde wears a black and silver sequined off the shoulder mini dress, complete with four-inch clear stilettos, accentuating the toned muscles of her legs. He shakes his head, disbelieving of his current situation. Forget the other women trying to talk to him, wanting a piece of his luxurious life. He keeps his eye contact with the blonde at the bar, a sly smirk gracing his handsome face.
"Baby, don't you agree?" one of the women purrs, shaking him out of his reverie. He blinks, focusing his baby blues on her.
"What?" he wonders.
"I said," she giggles, "this is the best place to be if you're looking for a show, don't you agree baby?"
He sighs roughly. "Sure," he says, wiping a hand down his face. The woman (brunette) huffs, sitting next to him again. He does a double take. "Where'd you come from?"
"Your friend said I could come," she answers.
Johnny Cage turns to his "friend" and agent Jeff Edwards with a scowl. The leery man shrugs, taking a small break from his makeout session with the two needy women crawling all over him. Trying to copy her friends, the brunette catches his chin under her hand and turns his head to her. He sighs. "My main man, just let it happen," Jeff mumbles from the lips of a sensual redhead.
Johnny rolls his eyes. He pulls his head away from the woman and grunts, "Not in the mood." There's a first. He, as gently as he could muster, pushes her away so she's seated in her own seat, away from him.
Meanwhile, Sonya Blade sips on her cosmopolitan, bopping her foot along with the beat of the current song playing. Her friend Sandy Pierson who's supposed to meet her was possibly running late or possibly ditched her. Regardless, she rolls her eyes as a man appears on her left side. "Let me get a shot of Jameson neat, and whatever this lovely woman is drinking," he tells the bartender.
Making sure she's okay with the request, the bartender asks, "Want another after this?"
Sonya shrugs. "Sure. No… actually, make that a tequila sunrise," she replies. Turning to the man, she nods thanks to him.
"No worries," he whispers in her ear. It sends a disturbing shiver down her body. Unsure of what to make of it, she continues to nurse her drink. "You here all by yourself, gorgeous?"
She shrugs. "Waiting on a friend." Speaking of… where the fuck is she? She wonders in her head. Sandy, forever calling her the uptight military major, appears and sits next to her on the right side. "Took you long enough, woman."
"Shh," Sandy shushes her, "I've been here. Just got caught up dancing. You on the other hand." Sandy surveys Sonya, nodding appreciatively. "I'm glad you came out. You look sexy. If only he could see you now, huh?"
There, she mentioned him. "Well, luckily Mr. Carlton seems to be above this place, huh?" Sonya snips, irate at the mention of her ex-lover. Sonya drains the rest of her glass in a hurry before picking up her new drink. "He's an asshole."
"He's an idiot," Sandy concurs. She leans over and greets the man on Sonya's left. "Hi, I'm Sandy, and in case she didn't tell you, her name's Sonya."
The man smirks. "Alonzo," he says, holding out his hand for Sandy to shake. Sonya leans back slightly so they can greet each other. She chances another look around the place, missing the glare from Johnny across the way.
Johnny glares at the man shaking her friend's hand as the brunette tries her best to redirect his attention to her. "I'll be back," he tells Jeff with a huff. Jeff barely acknowledges him with an 'ok' sign as he's being coddled and caressed by his two fan women. Johnny gets up and slowly makes his way across to the bar where Sonya is and sits on a farther end. He nods to the bartender. "Can I get a screwdriver? Heavy."
"Yep," he says before going to make his drink. He turns his head to catch Sandy being dragged to the dance floor by the friendly sir who bought Sonya a drink. She's by herself all over again. He watches as she sips on her new drink, bobbing her head to the music.
A new song plays over the club, starting off with a slow and sensual beat. He briefly thinks about the way her body used to feel against his while rolling around on his bed, made up with his 3,000 something thread count silk sheets. His thoughts then shift to how upset she tried not to be when he told her he wasn't ready for anything serious. He knows how long it had taken her to open up to him in the first place, and won't quickly forget the sharp slap she'd delivered him before storming out of his Venice Beach condo. A pang of regret hits Johnny when he chances another look at her. "Damn," he mutters just as his drink is placed in front of him. "Thanks, man," he says. He slides a fifty dollar bill on the counter. "Keep the change."
The bartender nods gratefully. "Thanks a lot, sir."
He says this loud enough to cause Sonya to look at who the bartender is talking to… and holds back an indignant scoff when she sees the side of his face. "This has got to be an omen," she mutters. She waves her hand to the bartender and he comes over to her. "Let me get a shot of whiskey, neat."
The bartender raises an eyebrow at her. "Mixing your liquors, huh? You got a ride going back home?"
Sonya shrugs. "I'll manage. It'll take nearly a horse tranquilizer to put me out, I promise. Thank you for your concern."
He sighs but pours her a shot of whiskey. "Cheers."
She slaps a twenty on the counter. "Thanks. Keep the change."
Between the blonde and the brown-haired actor, the bartender deduces he'll be going home with a hefty tip. "Thank you, ma'am."
Sonya downs the shot in one swallow, something Johnny notices. She turns her head and catches his eye. Shit, she grouses internally. Another shot sits temptingly on her mind, but she ultimately decides to slow her roll. She turns her head to the dance floor. In plain view of her own green eyes is Sandy making out with the man who bought her a drink earlier, a leg wrapped around his waist. Looks like she's going home alone tonight. "Son of a bitch," she curses.
He doesn't hear it exactly, but Johnny knows Sonya just said a swear word. Like a moth drawn to light, he gets up and makes his way to her. He sits in Sandy's previously occupied seat, and Sonya heaves a great sigh. "Fancy seeing you here," Johnny comments.
Sonya scoffs. "Yeah, I said the same shit about you, Cage." He frowns at the use of his last name. He's about to speak when she snaps, "What the fuck do you want?"
Still harboring some anger, Johnny nods. Noted. "Hey Sonya," he tries a gentle approach. Sonya growls lowly at him. "You look… nice."
She shakes her head. "Nice?"
"What would you like me to say instead?"
"I'd prefer silence from you, actually," is her biting remark. She slightly turns her body away from him, trying to end the conversation.
Not ready to give up right away, Johnny attempts again, stating, "I'm really sorry about how things ended with us. I was an ass."
"That's for sure," she snorts. She loudly slurps at her drink, inhaling every last drop in an effort to annoy him. It actually serves to do the opposite; he's completely enamored (turned on) by her actions. Then again, he found it hard not to be. Even remembering what she looked like lounging around in his sweatpants and her bra puts a slight tent in his pants. But no, he had to focus. "Why are you bothering me?" she asks impatiently.
A new song begins to play.
Despite her initial anger at him, she recognizes the song as one they had sex to, and it sends a rush of emotion down her body, settling in all the wrong places. He holds out a hand. "Dance with me?" he requests. She looks at his hand with what she hopes is disgust. "One dance. That's all I the time I need to explain myself to you. Then I'll leave you alone. For good."
"Promise?" she wonders, hoping her sarcasm is enough to placate him.
"Promise," he confirms. He wiggles his fingers. Fallen for his stupid charm. Again. She internally curses herself and her weak resolve and places her hand on top of his. He helps her from her chair, and she settles on the dance floor with her heels. Wasting no time, he spins her around before bringing her flush to his body so they're face to face. Keeping hold of one hand of her, he places his other hand on her waist, right above the curve of her back. He starts a slow grind on her, stepping from side to side.
"You said you wanted to take this song to talk," she reminds him, keeping up with his movements. "So talk," she demands.
I don't wanna be alone tonight, the artist croons. It's pretty clear that I'm not over you.
"That was pretty accurate, I must say," Johnny tells Sonya.
"So you want someone to go home with. Why doesn't that surprise me?"
He sighs, releasing the hand holding hers. He places that hand on the other side of her waist and pulls her closer. "I don't want just anyone," he whispers in her ear.
"That's not what you said last time," she gripes, trying to keep her anger and hormones in check. She turns away from him, gyrating her hips against his. He wraps his arms around her midriff, following her motions. "Keep talking. You still owe me an explanation."
Look what you made me do, I'm with somebody new. Ooh baby, baby I'm dancing with a stranger.
"I'm not a stranger," she whispers breathlessly. He leans forward to hear her better. "I've been the same woman waiting for you to make up your mind."
"I know," he grumbles in her ear. "As I said, I'm an ass."
"Yes, you are," she concurs. She turns back to face him. She pulls away from him, grabbing both hands as she does a two-step before swaying her hips back to him. "You hurt my feelings. That's not an easy feat, and yet you managed to do it."
I wasn't even going out tonight. But boy, I need to get you off my mind. I know exactly what I have to do. I don't want to be alone tonight.
They sway together, his hands crawling lower down her back as she holds onto his biceps. "I got scared. I've had many women tell me how much they want me. How much they love me, and how much they want to be with me. It's not always genuine. Women want the guys with the big bucks, and I have it. But I don't want trophy wives or gold diggers or anything like that."
"I scared you? By being real and low fuss and low maintenance?"
He buries his head in her neck, pressing a kiss to it. She bites back a whimper. "I should've known better," he whispers in her ear. He licks the shell of her ear and she tilts her head back. The song plays an extended version of itself, with only the instrumentals accompanying them on the floor. Her hands snake up his arms to wrap around his neck. "I don't ever want to be alone again. I wanna be with you, Sonya."
"I'm not easy to deal with, I know," she says.
He nods. "I don't want easy. Easy come easy go. I want someone who's worth the fight."
He pulls back to look her in the eyes. She quirks an eyebrow at him. "You think I'm worth it, huh?" She rolls her eyes. She's putty in his arms; one more sentence, breath, grind, or whisper could send her straight over the edge and into his bed… again.
"You'll always be worth it to me, baby," he declares, and it's exactly what she needs to hear. She wraps a leg around him and he pulls her in for a kiss. She threads her hands through his perfect brown hair, gripping the strands in her fingers. When they break apart, he bites kisses into her neck. She bites her lips, successfully suppressing a moan. "Babe," he groans.
"Take me home with you," she breathes in his ears.
"You sure?"
Sonya nods frantically. "I hate you, but yes I'm sure. Please." She rarely begs. Her body burns with heat, and she can't figure out whether it's from the alcohol or her sudden urges. A muddled mess on the dance floor, it takes Johnny all of his energy not to dry hump her on the floor.
He takes her arm gently and leads her away from the floor, walking behind her and watching how her hips sway in her short dress. "God, who let you leave the house like that?"
She whips her head back at him with a scowl. "Excuse me?"
"You look so beautiful, even in that sexy little thing you call a dress," he compliments her. She blushes. "Aww, Sonya's blushing."
"Shut up."
Quicker than she realizes, she's back on his bed, wrestling her piece of clothing off as he takes off his shirt, pants, underwear before crawling on top of her. He palms her breasts in his hands, reveling in the way she arches her back toward his touch. She wraps her legs around his waist. "Wait, hold on," he tells her. She puts her legs down and he gets up from the bed. Fumbling with his phone, he plays the same song from the club, making sure to put it on repeat, just for her. He kisses his way down her body before coming to a pause at her thong. He chuckles at the design. "Were you trying to get laid tonight?"
"I anticipated it honestly," she answers him, grabbing a fistful of his hair. "You know you want to."
"You more so than me," he teases, running a slick finger up and down her slit. She sucks in a deep breath before letting it out as a moan. "I missed this."
"Me too," she confesses. "Now do what you need to do."
"Yes, ma'am." He captures her center in his mouth and sucks lightly, chuckling when she lets out a deep moan. "Mmm hmm," he hums on her.
"Oh God, yes," she groans, pressing him closer to her, imploring him deeper.
Working her to the edge, he pulls away from her, coming up to her to kiss her slowly. She wraps her arms around him. "I'm sorry Sonya," he says, sincerity laced in his voice as he lurches upward, entering her in one swift move. "I don't want anyone else."
"Mmm," she whimpers. "I don't either." He thrusts into her deeply. "Look what you made me do," she giggles.
"I'm not really sorry about that," he tells her.
"Of course, you aren't."