(Results: Lookout!, Words: Caspian)

AHW: Emily in Paris Season 2 Premiere Party (feat. Emma Watson and Lily Collins)

Note: These events take place after the mini-PPV VIX: French Kisses @ the Salle Marcel Cerdan.

Lily:
(33, 5’5, VIXENs)

Emma:
(31, 5’5, VIXENs)

BEFORE:
The Paris air is light and intoxicating, with loud chatter and revelries sounding from every tightly packed street corner. Here in the Aux Folies, an old-fashioned but hip bar located in edgy Belleville, we’re about to kick off the latest season premiere of the hit television show, Emily in Paris, and of course, to celebrate the titular Emily herself, played by none other than famed Lily Collins.

The bar is already packed with well-wishers and VIP guests, as the neon red and white lights flood the parapet and walkway just outside the bar’s entrance, with a red carpet and metal poles already laid out for Miss Collins’ eventual arrival. Inside, most of the quaint circular wooden tables have already been moved to a corner of the wall or removed entirely, to give way to a more spacious accommodation of standing guests.




And with a promise of an open bar for tonight’s party, anything can happen!

The crowd goes wild as a long black limo pulls up to the street outside, and out comes Lily Collins, fresh off her win against fellow actress Camille Razat, waves to the assembled fans, emerging from the vehicle in a dark leather micro-dress that’s cut off at her thighs. The cameras go wild, eager to capture the latest fashion icon’s deep plunging neckline all the way split to her navel, showing off her slender figure and at the same time, covering up all the other nasty bruises from earlier that evening.

“Glad to be in Paris,” Lily takes a moment to speak to some reporters who have gathered near the entrance to the bar. The press and fans alike have been herded behind a row of metal barricades, as Lily continues. “I know I just beat up Camille on her home turf, but I have nothing but respect for the French people.”

Inside the bar, however, unbeknownst to Lily, Emma Watson is already watching the proceedings with scorn, and rolling her eyes when she overhears her fellow Vixen’s statement. She crosses her legs and leans over the bar counter top, letting her own pearly white dress flutter over her knees and the high stool she’s sitting on.

“Remember: we’re here to support Lily, not make a scene,” Corey Saucier cautions from next to her, the Co-Head Trainer all too familiar with that dangerous look flashing in Emma’s eyes.

“She almost got knocked out by Camille tonight,” Emma complains, downing another shot of whiskey on the rocks. “I managed to beat Léa in the very first round of my fight - where’s MY celebration?”

Corey sighs, attempting to signal the bartender to cut the Harry Potter starlet off right after she orders another drink. Neither Corey nor Emma have time to respond, however, as the bar erupts in cheers and applause, and Lily strides in, flashing a smile in all directions.

Emma rolls her eyes again, refusing to get up from her stool and join in on the standing ovation. And the feeling is mutual for Lily, who also managed to spot her fellow Flyweight compatriot from the entrance, and flashes a scowl just reserved for Emma, before returning to greet her other well-wishers.

“If you ask me, they should have given the role to someone with a little more class,” Emma continues, the alcohol clearly loosening her tongue. “I mean, Lily’s not even French!”

“That’s the point of the show, isn’t it?” Corey says, getting a little annoyed with her drinking habits. “It’s about a foreigner fumbling about the City of Lights, and learning to accept who she is.”

“That does sound like dear Lils, fumbling about the entire night,” Emma sniggers, spotting a nasty bruise near Lily’s thigh, no doubt a leftover mark from her seven-round brawl with Razat.

Watson scoops her long, brown hair over to the left side of her shoulder, before fixing her dress in place so that a little more of her side-boobs are showing. It immediately had the desired effect, with a couple of reporters soon catching wind of her gimmick and choosing to swarm her space instead.

“Emma! Emma!! What did you think of Lily’s win tonight?” a reporter asks, shoving a tape recorder into her face.

“Emma! Have you both buried the hatchet? How are you getting along backstage in the VIX locker room?” another asked, definitely referencing some of their previous encounters (https://fcba.freeforums.net/thread/6366/lily-collins-watson-locker-brawl)

Emma flashes the man a practiced, innocent smile, before feigning ignorance. “Oh, stop it. Why are you all asking me all the questions tonight, when it’s supposed to be Lily’s?”

“Yeah, Ems, what are you doing here?” Lily’s voice was suddenly heard from the side,

and Emma whips around to see Collins leaning casually on the bar counter, with a sickly sweet smile on her lips.

“I was just about to tell this gentleman how proud I am of my dear, dear stablemate,” Emma says, getting up from her stool and joining Lily’s side.

The more perceptive in the audience, however, can see Lily visibly bristling as this happens, her body tensing up as Emma places an arm over her shoulder, and grins for the cameras.

“She did SO well against Razat tonight. SIX whole rounds. Wow,” Emma says, with a wink, which draws some laughter from the bar crowd.

“My hearty congratulations to you too, Ems,” Lily replies, her lips pursed and an eyebrow arched high. “A first round KO over someone like Seydoux? I’d be SO happy for you if I hadn’t known Léa’s last win was five years ago.”

Emma lets out a controlled laugh, tossing her head back for effect. But Lily can also feel her fist clenching up over the nook of her shoulder, along with the sudden, piercing sensation of fingernails digging into flesh.

“Much better to knock out a complete rookie, then, like Camille, huh?” Emma counters. “I guess there’s less chance of getting knocked out and embarrassed.”

Lily forces back a smile, before reciprocating the gesture of a draped arm snaked around Emma’s shoulders and neck, purposely digging her nails into the side of her Emma’s bared arm under the guise of trying to pull her into an embrace.

“Sounds like someone’s started my party a little early…” Lily says, catching a whiff of the whisky on Emma’s breath. “Whoo! Smells like it too,” she says, drawing more laughter from the crowd. “Why don’t you be a good little stablemate and go sit over there in the corner with Corey?” Lily says, drawing a flash of anger from Emma. “This is, after all, my party.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Emma says, with mock apology in her voice. “I didn’t mean to draw the spotlight away from you, dear Lily. God forbid the rest of us ordinary folk don’t get in the way… Here, let me give you a big ol’ hug to make up for our mistake.”

“No, that’s quite alright--” Lily says, already being pulled inwards by Emma’s arms.

“But I’m SO proud of you, Lils…” Emma says, reaching around Lily’s shoulders and clutching her tight.

Pain shoots through Lily’s scalp, however, as Emma’s grip is a little TOO tight, with Watson’s nails getting entangled in the back of her shoulder-length hair and tugging hard, consciously or otherwise. Lily grimaces, grinding her teeth through the pain and doing her best to retain her composure. She refuses to be the first one to admit she’s in pain.

“SO proud of you too, dear Emma…” Lily hisses, before returning the favour and unceremoniously yanking on Emma’s hair from behind, this time with so much force that Emma lets out a yelp as her head is bent backwards.

“Oops, my bad,” Lily smirks, turning back to face the reporters. “I guess we respect each other so much that--”

CRACK!! A hard slap echoes off Lily’s powdered face, leaving the starlet stunned and clutching her cheek in shock. Emma’s own face softens from a snarl just a mere second ago, as the Harry Potter starlet realises what she’s just done. Too late - Lily SMACKS her across the face with an open palm of her own, and just like that, this after-party has descends into CHAOS!

Well-wishers and members of the press scatter, shouting out warnings to get clear, as the two Vixens throw themselves at each other, no longer play-acting nor holding back, as their sharp fingernails lunge at each other’s hair. A space in the centre of the bar immediately expands for the tussling girls, who are having trouble maintaining their balance whilst dressed in their evening gowns and high heels, much less as their hated rival tries toppling them off their feet.

“Little Ems!” Lily hisses. “Always thinking she can SPOIL my party??”

She lunges upwards and manages to snag Emma’s hair with both hands, hauling her inwards. Emma lets out a yelp and stumbles forward, but her own firm grip on Lily’s tresses means she’s also pulling Collins down to the floor with her, and the two hellcats end up TUMBLING onto the black-and-white floor tiles, rolling over each other and shrieking.

“Shouldn’t we stop this?” the manager of the Parisian bar is seen hurrying over to Corey Saucier. But the VIX Co-Head trainer simply shrugs, and downs another half-empty goblet of red wine.

“No, these two need to get it out of their system,” Corey says. “Besides, the French seem to be loving the tussle.”

True enough, the local populace has been snapping pictures of the confrontation and letting out plenty of snarky comments on the sidelines, with a true Parisian wanting nothing more than to see two foreigners humiliate themselves in the heart of their city. If it involves two Englishwomen, even better!

Indeed, the spectators scatter further when Lily regains her grip on Emma’s hair, hauling her off balance before tossing her into a nearby chair, sending her tumbling. Emma lets out a shout of pain as she knocks the furniture over, but has little time for respite when Lily pounces on her within the wreckage, hauling her back up and sending a fist square to her nose, making her flail backwards and over a standing table, her white dress fluttering over her head and revealing her black cotton undies underneath.

Emma gasping as she’s womanhandled, but forcing herself back up to her knees and then using the breather in between (as Lily pushes her way through overturned chairs and tables) to kick off her high heels with a clack clack to the floor. Right before Lily can lunge at her hair again, Emma shoots out a bare foot, catching the Netflix actress clean in the stomach, and sending her stumbling back with a shout of pain.

“I’ll do more than steal your party!” Emma hisses, her face having shed that nice-girl persona and now sporting a dishevelled scowl.

The Brit actress quickly springs back up to her feet, crouching low with her eyes fixed on Lily’s form. Then, she CHARGES straight into her, using one of her shoulders to spear Collins right in the chest and backwards. Lily gets the brunt of the spear, her back and head hitting the hard marble bar counter - she immediately flops into a heap, clutching the back of her head with both hands.

Her bestie is right there to help her keep afloat, Emma steadying Collins with a hand snaked under her shoulder, bare fist barreled into the centre of Lily’s stomach, another and another pinning her to the counter and driving the air from her lungs.

Lily is still too stunned, her mouth open and the rest of her body wanting nothing more than to sag down to the floor. Emma, still smirking maliciously from above, opts to reach not for Lily’s tousled hair, but her outfit. As Lily sinks down to her knees, there’s the telltale sound of fabric ripping, as Lily’s jacket sleeves come off on either side, and the rest of Lily’s outfit also threatening to slide off her bare shoulders to expose her breasts for the eager Parisian crowd.

But a sudden lunge from Lily stings Emma to the lip, making her squeal backwards. Emma tries to recover in an instant, again reaching for the rest of Lily’s tattered top, but receives another slugging shot to the stomach, bowling her over. Lily’s face is afire, almost getting disrobed and humiliated in front of national television, springing back up and then pulling hard on the side of Emma’s hair to steady her, before shocking her to the midsection with a leap-in knee.

Emma slumps over with a grunt, her mouth hanging open and then her nose getting busted open by a follow-up knee lift to her kisser. Watson still groaning as Lily hauls her back up for more punishment, taking another hard slap across her face, but Lily gets distracted with trying to kick off her own high heels for better mobility, instead loses her balance and gives Emma a breathing chance to recover.

Watson catches her with a wayward fist to her side, then another hook catching Lily clean on the lip. Before Lily can reel back, however, Emma reaches down and pulls at her legs, which SWEEPS Collins clean off the ground and onto her back with a loud THUD! Lily’s head hits a second hard surface tonight, and she lies there, spread-eagled for a couple of seconds, clutching the back of her head and neck.

Emma’s still on her knees, pushing off a little faster, and sure as hell a little cattier, immediately throwing herself forward and on top of her rival, subduing Lily with hands shoved down and over her head, both legs straddling her waistline. Lily’s struggling underneath, taking errant slaps across her face before finding her wrists subdued once more. She’s unable to budge the slightly bigger Emma, but Emma’s own long white gown is making it difficult to get her legs into a better position for the perfect straddle.

“GETOFFM-UGGGHH!!” Lily spits, but gets her head shoved back down into the hard floor tiles a third time, to daze her further.

Emma licks her lips, reaching down to the lower seams of her dress, and then PULLS at a sharp angle - RIIIIPPPP!! Her legs suddenly visible, as though a set of drapes got pulled back to reveal bare flesh and a sneak peak of black cotton briefs beneath. The Harry Potter starlet ain’t messing around here, disrobing herself on purpose to gain further mobility, and it works!

Lily gurgles one last gasp, as her rival jockeys her legs forward, as well as her lower hips into position, her thighs now astride reddened cheeks, with Emma’s butt planted firmly on Lily’s chest and shoulder blades.

“f*cking b*tch!! I’LL MURDER Y--MMMPPHGHH!!” Lily sputters, now getting desperate.

But Lily is silenced mid-sentence when Emma thrusts her crotch forward, smooshing it straight into Lily’s lips and nose, allowing the remnant tatters and shreds of her white gown to flutter over Lily’s head - a runner-up shield at best for poor Collins, who’s thrashing and flailing about best she can below, but is unable to shove her nemesis off her perch.

Of course, Emma is up on top and enjoying the ride, riding out the crotch smother and schoolgirl facesit for the rest of the flashing cameras all around.

“I’m tired of playing second fiddle to you, Lils,” Emma huffs from above, her own messy hair falling over her shoulders. “You’re gonna respect me after this… or I’m gonna make you.”

Lily whimpers below, utterly spent and trying to arch her back up one last time, to no avail. The attempt merely pushes Emma’s perch forward, and her weight further into her strained chin and lips. It does appear that Lily’s earlier fight with Razat might have drained her more than she’d like to admit.

Now, she’s left sputtering and gasping, trapped beneath Watson’s pin and slowly losing oxygen and the remainder of her pride. Finally, after a good minute of Emma posing above, and making sure Lily’s strength is utterly spent, the Harry Potter starlet slowly climbs back to her feet, picking up the remaining shreds of her garment, then heading out of the pub and into the street, still barefoot, smiling as she soaks in the spotlight.

Emma flashes a final grin to the cameras, before climbing into Lily’s black limo and high-tailing it outta there, no doubt back to the privacy of her hotel room, before Collins can realise what the hell happened.

Poor Collins slowly stirs from the floor of the Parisian bar, and has to be covered up by Corey Saucier, who escorts through the service door and back into the kitchen area, where Lily has to be consoled and calmed down on an upturned stool.

“She’s going to f*cking pay!” Lily spits, both her words and disgusting taste of Emma’s panties from her lips, as Corey drapes a large towel over her bare shoulders and arms.

Later that week, Lily and Emma’s wild melee finally appears on the cover of several French tabloid magazines: Emma straddling Lily’s body, one hand buried in the top of brown messy hair, her other arm flexed high to puckered lips.

Something tells us there’s a whole lot more still in both girls’ systems, and this latest altercation is just another incident in their storied rivalry.

Official Result: Emma Watson defeats Lily Collins via Crotch Smother @ 17:03!