Fender Bender
Real World AU: Has-been Racer Turbo/Older! Vanellope
Summary: Turbo is trying to be romantic (or something) but Vanellope just can't take him seriously.
She was laughing; little fits of giggles were flying from her mouth like sparks from peeling tires and the very sound froze Turbo in his tracks. His lips, which had just been in the midst of pressing kisses to the pale, pink stomach of Vanellope von Schweetz, were momentarily barred from relishing in the soft sensation of his girlfriend's skin as she continued to snigger.
Turbo looked up, still pressed into the smooth flesh of Vanellope's stomach, and he gawked at the sight before him in sheer confusion. Vanellope's head had lolled back against the mattress, not from ecstasy, but due to a bout of unruly laughter. Craning his neck upward, Turbo studied Vanellope's reddened cheeks and crinkled eyes while she, simultaneously, met his gaze. The woman was seized by another fit of giggles, presumably due to his confused look, but tried to stifle it by covering her mouth with her hand.
For a split second, Turbo imagined that she was incredibly ticklish and couldn't help her reaction. The idea that he could render any woman (but especially Vanellope) into such a vulnerable state was far from unbelievable. But, the part of him that was all too familiar with the derisive 'racing aficionado' knew better.
He knew that Vanellope was being a complete tease, that she was mocking his attempts to be genuine with her chimes of laughter, in spite of the fact that there were very few moments in which he actually bothered to put in as much effort into being as generous as this.
Another titter, this time clearly edged with mocking, and Turbo could feel his mood beginning to turn. He let out an annoyed huff before planting his hands on either side of his girlfriend. He pushed upward until he was once more in an upright position and dared not to ogle at the fact that Vanellope remained partially unclothed. Instead his expression began to darken as the woman below him chuckled at his expense.
"Excuse me but, did you jutht snort?" He narrowed his eyes dangerously, daring her to try and answer.
Vanellope snorted again, much louder than before, but contended to shake her head 'no' all the same. Her entire face had gone red and her frame shook with the effort to suppress her laughter, which seemed to have become uncontrollable.
Eyes suddenly wild, Turbo rose to a fully seated position and scooted as far away from Vanellope as was possible. He sat on the edge of the bed, turned away from Vanellope and sulking without shame.
"Ah, aww—is Twerpo angry now that there's a red light?"
Vanellope sat up smiled as she shifted over to the older man and draped her arms over his shoulders. She placed her hands on top of his head and ran her fingers through his hair, musing over how closely shaven it was. Aerodynamics, maybe?
The woman blinked as she was quickly pushed away, before she narrowed her eyes behind her lover's back. She ruminated over the how Turbo could be even more of a brat than she herself at times, always pinching and pushing her away when he couldn't get what he wanted. It was incredibly ridiculous, even by her standards, but Vanellope had become used to his temper tantrums to where it hardly bothered her, let alone hurt her feelings. Not that that was an easy thing to do anyway.
She remained playful,
"What a sore loser!"
In the meantime, Turbo had changed from angry to appalled to furious in a matter of moments. He hissed at her attempts to reign in his temper, and he quickly shrugged her hands off, not minding in the slightest that her indulgent touch was lost. All he could do was fume over how very wrong she was and the fact that he didn't want to accommodate to her ever again. Why should he feel the need to make princess happy when all he should've been worrying about was himself. There was no point in it, to become frustrated over how idiotic she could be with her inability to just… stop being herself.
Turbo's teeth gnashed, his fists clenched to his sides. He turned his head to look in her direction and sneered.
"Oh yeah? What have I lost, huh? It's not like you would have a clue about what to do anyway."
Vanellope's playful smirk began to falter as Turbo's words sunk in. She raised an eyebrow,
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked flatly.
He laughed cruelly, "Exactly. Slow on the uptake as always Miss von Schweetz."
The man watched as Vanellope's expression morphed into a scowl within the speed of a heartbeat. Fire grew and intensified in her stare whereas Turbo continued to smirk unflinchingly in her direction. A sudden burst of adrenaline caused the blood to pulsate in his veins and he could practically feel his heart drumming in his chest. The feeling was something akin to the feeling he received whilst racing except he cursed it now, knowing that it hindered his ability to win in a fight with Vanellope. He couldn't properly insult the female enthusiast when his body so obviously clamored for a different 'alternative' altogether.
Minutes passed and Turbo became uncomfortable, there was a fire brewing in his belly before he knew it, although he could hardly compare it to Vanellope's furious state of being. She looked ready to chew him to pieces and spit him out.
Finally, unable to wait any longer, Turbo turned away from her and concentrated on glaring at the mint-green walls of her room. He did not show surprise when a deflated Vanellope joined him, nor did he consider how adorable she was as she mimicked his posture, arms crossed and an angry frown creasing her features.
"You're such a baby." She muttered after a while, more to herself than to Turbo.
He snorted in derision at her statement, unable to even feign amusement as he stood up and paced away from the side of the bed.
Vanellope reacted with a sharp cry, "Oh come on, you're not really that mad are ya?!"
Turbo groaned, wishing the women would learn how to control her volume. He made no move to answer her but made a U-turn and dove beneath the covers of the bed, digging his way beneath the mounds of frivolous pillows and extravagances until he was comfortable in his designated spot (and facing away from Vanellope). He could sense it when Vanellope rose from the bed and hesitated to follow suit and he didn't care, though it was cold and he couldn't stop thinking about the position he'd been in half an hour ago. If things had gone as planned then, he wouldn't have been cold and dissatisfied at the end of the night.
A new weight sank into the bed and Vanellope was nestled against his back, grinning into one of his shoulders before he could say a word.
"Drama King." She spoke in a sing-songy voice.
"Oh, be quiet!" Turbo snapped. He didn't ponder why his voice sounded soft to his own ears as he tugged Vanellope's free arm to where it was draped over his waist. He intertwined their hands together over his stomach and sighed, exhausted in the aftermath of having all of his wants and needs unfulfilled.
He could feel Vanellope laughing behind him and swore, too low for his girlfriend to hear. He couldn't muster the strength to do anything else but drift off to sleep.
Please don't flame or get offended. I sort of ship this pairing in an age appropriate way, AU way and any time I write a fanfic I automatically publish it so... yeah.
Wreck-It Ralph Characters belong to Disney.