A/N: I've been wanting to right a DomxOc story for forever. But I never liked any of my plots. Finally, after seeing Fast 6 on Monday and obessing over how attractive Vin Diesel is. (Seriously, the most perfect looking man on Earth. or in the galaxy for that matter, even his voice is attractive. Ugh) I FINALLY Came up with something that was an oozing pile of shit. So here it is.

The one thing about growing up on this side of LA was that everyone knew Dominic Toretto, and I mean everyone, even old ladies at the salon I got my hair cut at talked about the boy. How he looked, how he raced, how his eye twitched before he sneezed or how he shook his ding-a-ling twice after peeing. I mean, christ, it was gross. I felt like I knew everything about him before I even met the guy.

When I moved here with my brother, I had no idea who the hell Toretto was, and I didn't care. My brother was a marine, and he stayed with me when he was not overseas in the war.

My house was small, two bedrooms, a kitchen, small living room, and bathroom. Just the basics. That was the top floor of my house, the bottom floor was a little shop I opened called Mermaid Cove. I sold, as my brother would call it, 'witchy stuff' but in actually was just homemade body scrubs and lotions and the like.

My life was nice and I was content.

My first customer, and my forever loyal customer, was a woman named Netale, Netale was a tall, blonde dynamo who for some reason just couldnt get enough of the stuff I made. But she brought in her friends, and suddenly, it felt like every woman in LA was out to get some of my products.

On a particularly quiet day, I had turned the radio up and was dancing and singing like I usually do in my private moments.

"Been balling all my life, Lamborghini's, fast whips
She down to ride and
Deserves a boss who down to provide
We run the streets but on G5's, I'm talkin' fly
Boots and blue jeans, Cartier, newer rings
You with a big boy, so we do the big things
Had the valet park it, Chanel hoodie on
Looking like Trayvon Martin, George Zimmerman on warning
She on my morning poster,
Ciroc in my mimosa
I'm ballin' like Lebron,
We shoppin' in Milan
The 458 Ferrari, I park it on the lawn"

Now, I know it must be amusing to some people, who passed by in the windows, my, a tiny thing of 4' 11' and just over 120 pounds, dancing and rapping to Usher and Rick Ross. But I did not expect to get a customer, so when I heard laughing, I made a started turn to see a drop dead gorgeous girl laughing. She had long, brunette hair and kind brown eyes.

"Damn it. I Told Bryant we needed a bell on that door!" I frowned, but then grinned. "Hi, welcome to mermaids cove, how can I help you?"

"I heard you had increadible chapstick, so I thought I'd give it a try." She said.

"Oh! right this way!" I lead her to where I had all my chapsticks. "My name is Ariel. I'm the owner."

"I'm Mia." Mia said, she wasn't rude about the way she said it, and I grinned.

Mia and I shared a good laugh, and actually talked for a good while before she paid for the the chapstick and I sent her on her way.

Nights were boring unless Bryant was home, bryant was funny, with puppy dog brown eyes and blond hair, He had several tattoos and was built muscled but not overly so. He was a funny guy to, always running around and saying or saying something that would make me laugh until it hurt. Like right now, he was in a cowboy hat and shorts singing to Country Man around the house. I was sitting in my chair and in tears with laughter, two other males from Bryants base were with us as we were going out tonight.

I didn't know where we were going, it was rare that I did. Bryant would just walk into my room, tell me to put on 'hooker clothes' and then walk out. My brother was strange, but endearing in a way only a big brother could be.

So there I was, in a little white dress and tan cowgirl boots. Not hookery in the least, And my brother randomly demanded that we matched and was changing into a blue plaid shirt and jeans, a cowboy hat and tan boots.

Yeah, he was weird.

Finally he was ready to go, we piled into our cars, Well, the boys piled into their cars and I went on my motorcycle. Yes I know, dresses and motorcycles don't mix, blah blah, I don't care. I loved my motorcycle and if whoever was behind me had a problem with it, they could shove it.

I followed them over into some streets, where it looked like a huge party was going on. I stared at it for a moment before it clicked. Of course Bryant wants to race. I growled and swung my leg off my bike rather viciously. I hated going to street races, and Bryant usually hated when I went. Guys always acted like dogs and Brian nearly would kill them if they came near me. Which he knew he didn't have to do after I speared a guy so hard with my stiletto that the heel went through his foot, but still. Other then that I liked the racing scene, nice cars, nice music, and I loved to dance so It was very nice.

Racer chasers were everywhere, dressed in skimpy outfits and hanging on any guy there, including my brother. That I didn't mind, except my brother was giving me the help me eyes. I sighed and waltzed over to them.

"Leave." I commanded.

The girl, obviously the head of the group, eyed me up and down and smirked. "No."

I raised a brow at her. "Excuse me?"

"I don't see a ring on his finger, so no, we won't leave."

My temper flared. "And I don't see a ring on your finger because you're an STD ridden raging slut, now get the fuck off my brother before I stab you."

My brother and his friends were laughing to hard to even say thank you as the girls sashyed off to spread their diseases elsewhere.

"STD ridden slut." He was snorting in laughter. "Damn, that was too funny."

I snorted and leaned against my brothers car. It was a nice car, A Charger, Srt8 Super Bee. It was black, and a very smooth ride. Though I preffered my motorcycle.

"You owe me, so go request a song from the DJ, one you know I can dance to."

My brother wandered off to do just that. I grinned and danced around the cars until a good Nicki Minaj song came on, and then I was on the dance floor, enjoying the dancing around, I didn't even notice I had a dance partner until the song ended. I met a pair of blue eyes and smiled at the boy, he had brown hair, kind of rough looking, but he seemed nice enough, as in he wasn't groping me.

"Hey, I'm Vince." He smiled at me.

"I'm Ariel." I smiled up at him.

He grinned at me. "Do you want a drink?" He asked, I nodded, and we wandered off together and got beers, we chatted about the usual getting-to-know someone stuff. He found out my brother was racing and I found out he was here with his friends. After several minutes a few of his friends actually came and found him, Vince introduced me to Jesse and Rome, and the three of us chatted and wandered around and yes, we danced. It was very fun until I heard my brothers loud voice arguing with someone.

"Oh, that's my brother." We ran over to where the crowd was gathering just in time to see Bryant punch the shit out of someone, and he was about to hit another guy.

"Shit." I ran inbetween them and latched myself onto my brothers back. He would never fight when I was on his back, he always got so worried about me getting hit.

"Get off." Bryant growled, turning his head to look at me.

"No."

"Ar."

"No."

"Get the fuck off me."

"No." I paused and turned to look at the boy laying on the ground, everyone seemed fromen in place and the boy on the ground was clutching his jaw. "What did they do?"

Bryant growled. "They tried to steal my car."

I eyes the two in question and raised a brow. "Why? They don't even know how to use the stick between their legs, obviously they don't know how to drive one."

Apparently everyone heard me and chuckled, except for the two on the ground, who turned beet red.

Hands suddenly pried me from my brothers back, and I spun to meet Vince and a guy who was huge, I mean, huge. 6 foot 1 at least, charming brown eyes, a bald head, and muscles about as big as my own head.

"Who's this?" I directed the question to Vince, My brother gave me a look and then looked at Vince.

"Who's that?" He asked.

"This is Dom." Vince said, Then directed to my brother. "And I'm Vince."

I shook Dom's hand, his large hand swallowed mine. He noticed this and smirked. "I'm Ariel, and this is my brother Bryant."

I pushed my curly red hair over my shoulder. Dom asked what had happened My brother explained and then Dom turned to me.

"Nice job, running in and stopping the fight, but be careful next time, you could get hurt."

I laughed, thinking he was joking, but when I took in his serious face. I knew he wasn't, and that made my temper flare. "Listen, I can handle myself." I stated, then gestured to myself. "I may not look it, but I've been in plenty of fights, and have been arrested before. I know when to bet on myself and when to back out."

Dom argued with me for a few moments before something sank into his brain. "Wait, you were arrested, for what?"

I smirked. "Not telling."

This just frustrated him, and that is how I met the famous Dominic Toretto.