Disclaimer: I do not in any way own the series Teen Titans or any associated characters. This is just a fan fiction playing around with the DCU animated characters.
I just have one thing to say here: Note the rating!!! It's there for a good reason. There will be sex, violence, swearing and other things (read: disturbing and unpleasant) that will make you squirm. If you can't deal with some of the events in this story, I suggest NOT reading further and finding something fluffy and plot-less to make you feel better.
Those of you not deterred yet, continue on.
Sustaining the Status Quo
Sometimes it's harder than you think it is to get what you want. Everything could be going your way and then WHAM! Out of nowhere comes a curve ball from your blind spot and you're seeing stars. Simple, almost innocuous, things they usually are: small gestures, silent looks, insightful quips, a single word.
A name.
What most people don't realise is that some curve balls can be lethal. Most cases it's for the receiver, but sometimes it's the pitcher that meets a sudden end. Though ripping a gaping hole in the ground and collapsing the grandstands on top of panicked spectators is fun too. Anything goes so long as you manage to get back up and resume playing with a vengeance.
Sometimes it's also easier to wish you weren't at the bottom of the ninth, three home runs down no bases loaded and your worst batter on the plate. It's easy to delude yourself into thinking you could win earlier in the game when you might have still stood a chance had you impressed the other team and the crowd more. But at this point all illusions fade and the world starts to crumble. You have to face the fact that you're loosing the series.
How you loathe the very sight of their victory dance. Bright colours swirling everywhere. Red and green mixing together so fast to form a blur of puke-brown.
Why is it that he always gets what he wants? He's the outsider; you're in the home colours, dammit! Why is it that you're always reminded of your secondary place? Never quite good enough for the sponsors, always reminded that you're just below his standards.
Why is it always him that gets the soft seductive whisper sent his way? Why is it HIS name that gets called out in the heat of passion, instead of YOURS?!
She'd gotten so used to the darkness by now that she didn't need to watch her step as she walked in. Overconfidence in assessing your physical situation was one of the first things he taught her to be wary of, but she thought she was safe enough here. She should have known better.
Barely managing to avoid having her nose broken with the impact of her head smashing against a wall, she stared up at her attacker with cold eyes.
"I thought I taught you better than that my dear."
She couldn't stop the shiver in her body hearing that disdainful hiss.A slow smirk crossed pale features, hiding her fear and using the adrenaline rushing through her system to spark other emotions. "You did," she leaned closer to him, still fully aware of his deadly hands so close to her thin neck. "Who's to say I didn't want you to pin me to the wall?"
The hand on her shoulder clenched tight then loosened and she pulled back, flicking her long hair back into place. She could feel his gaze on her, but pretended to ignore it. She knew it was dangerous, but that was the thrill of it all – not knowing if he'd kill her for her insubordination. Noticing the slight shift in shadows around his mouth, relief flooded her system. She wouldn't die tonight.
"I do hope you wouldn't be so careless around others."
"Of course not." Realising he was reprimanding her, she looked to the ground. "I was just playing."
"Playing." Well, he was in a good mood. "A game does sound like a rather enjoyable idea right now." He pulled away and moved further into the darkness, knowing she'd follow into the next room.
Closing the door and walking behind him, she stripped off her jacket and quickly braided her hair. "You're in alight humour. I'm assuming you caught tonight's show."
"I did. Poor little bird, he came so close – again."
Her features tightened slightly then she forcibly loosened her muscles and smirked. "That's always the case though, so close, but never capturing the prize." She slid her hands up his back and leaned in close as he stoped walking. "Of course it doesn't help him much that he can't see a good thing when it's pinning him to a wall." She knew what sort of response the caress of her voice in his ear would cause – though she did let out a slightly pained exhalation of breath as her back hit the smooth plaster behind her.
His hands were hard and firm – the only things keeping her upright and against the wall a few inches above the ground. His lips were just as hard. The kiss was rough and demanding, just like he was, but there was just a hint of a dark promise deep within the touch, sucking her in deeper to try and seek it out. Their kisses always ended the same, her panting and seeking his lips even as he pulled away with that damnable smirk of his. It should be illegal to be that appealing.
But, then again, she'd never really cared for laws in the first place.
She loved that amused glint in his dangerous eye. Like a sheen of melted water over thick ice. "You've got a fixation tonight."
She would have shrugged, but that would dislodge his grip … no, that wouldn't happen, she just wouldn't be able to shrug through his grip. Instead she licked her lips, drawing in as much of his taste that lingered on her as she could. "What can I say?" That pert mouth and sharp tongue was now causing some ever-so-delicious thoughts in both their minds. "You've always known I like it rough and I feel like doing something fun tonight."
He crushed her against the wall with his body, taking her breath away again with a sharp kiss, and let his hands run down her sides; intentionally causing her to shiver and press against him. A few quick movements and her pants were bunched around her ankles. Releasing her, he grabbed the edge of her shirt and pulled up as her knees buckled under her. Picking up the slight form around the waist, he threw her to the bed and smiled as he watched her momentary panic at the action transform to desire.
Clad in simple white undergarments, she stretched, pale stomach twisting as hips moved comfortably further into the mattress. Blowing stray blonde hairs from in front of her face, she watched him strip his shirt off, once again admiring the virile and muscular figure before her. She gripped the sheets beneath her almost involuntarily as he loomed over her, twisting her neck up to catch his eye.
"Fuck me like you want to hurt me."
Strong hands lashed out to tangle in the half-done braid and a small whimper trembled in the air. "My dear apprentice, I never said I wasn't going to hurt you." The lips whispering sweet seduction into an eager ear turned to teeth tearing at the lobe.
A hiss escaped dark full lips. "Good," was the moaned reply as long-nailed fingers clawed up his strong shoulders to grasp at short white curls. There was no more discussion as the two moved in for a violent kiss that promised far more.
The glow was fading and the ache was starting to settle in now.
He'd gotten up once he'd caught his breath, cold and authoritative as always – save for the times like the one just before that dealt with their necessary passions. The moments that were becoming fewer as time moved along. She never wanted kind, false words of emotion from him, but she was not one to be pushed to the side so easily. He'd dismissed her, reminding her of her duties and telling her how disappointed he'd be if she got her cover blown going back tonight. Like it was all her fault.
She was not a weak, easily manipulated little girl to be reprimanded in such a way, nor was she to be so easily left and ignored. She was powerful and strong and deserved to be recognised.
She was not second best.
There were echoes of his rough voice in her ears; deep and resonant with turbulent, anxious overtones that were so rarely heard. It was all because of her that he had been like that. Or so she thought. A cold feeling had swept through her, freezing her own passion as she heard his cry for what he most desired.
Clenching her teeth, she rose, almost hating the pleasing strain in her lower muscles for what it now represented to her. She couldn't look at the bed nor the sheets on the floor, crossing instead to the far side of the sparse room to the sterile bathroom stocked with everything she would need to cover up what just happened.
Her face twisted into a scowl as she stared at the spare costumes and clothing in the cupboard by the door. She wagered he wouldn't have needed to cover up something like this; her master would have enjoyed watching him explain it away to everyone.
Snatching a uniform she placed it on the vanity and moved to the shower, the water scorching and the heat soothing to her body, if not her thoughts. She felt so hollow – not that she wanted emotional ties – it was a disturbing feeling, almost as bad at the rage she felt at being used and shunted away again. She wasn't hurt though, no not hurt – couldn't get hurt when there was no emotion involved – it was purely all because of what it symbolised.
That she was still the consolation prize.
The taps twisted and almost broke under her grip as she turned the spray off. Barely able to see in the thick steam she moved to the vanity and grabbed the towel to the side, wiping at the mirror above the sink before drying her body off. As the final wisps of steam dispersed, she looked up in the mirror.
A lithe figured cloaked in shadows stared back.
Growling, she punched the mirror, shattering it.
She'd make sure that smug expression turned to terror and that pretty face was scarred and bloody. And those eyes … she looked forward to ripping his shadows away and watching the horror reflect in his eyes. She could almost hear the screams now.
"I'm going to enjoy seeing you break Boy Wonder."