Sweet-Tooth Week Day 3: AU
Title: Paint Me like One of Your French Girls
Characters: Bunnymund, Toothiana, North
Shipping: Sweet-Tooth, M/F, Bunnymund/Toothiana
Rating: T
Genre: Romance, Friendship
Summary: College/Human AU – Aster needs a nude model for his photography and art assignment and Tooth needs money for her college books. It's practically a match made in heaven.
A/N: Sorry it's late, its days like these that wish I could draw. This was supposed to be a drawing but I really wanted to write something so I tried to find inspiration, I was going to go with a soulmate AU but that quickly escalated into a full blown story that may very well show up on . I do not own Rise of the Guardians.
0.o.0.o.0
Something noisy blares a song like an army of trumpets right in is ears around three a.m., abruptly waking his body and causing him to fall out bed with a curse. Quickly, acting off of natural reflexes, he grabs a decorative, though deadly sword from over his bed and gets into a fighting stance, jumping from right to left and recklessly swinging his weapon every which way like a mad man as he shouts out who's there.
After taking his empty bedroom into a count, he notices the ringing sounds like Christmas show tunes, its then he realize that it was his phone all along.
Stanching his red phone off its charger, he flicks his fingers across the screen and press a few buttons to answer, before he can so much as say hello another scream shoots through the phone and rattles his eardrums.
He immediately holds his phone as far away from his ear as possible, wincing at his friend's screams. "Toothy, Toothy, please, calm down and tell me what is matter."
The screaming on the other end gradually changes into a worried voice. "What is matter?! What is matter?! I'll tell you what is matter, North."
North crawls back into bed at the tone of her voice and braced himself for an all-nighter, it was rare to find Toothiana mad. So when she does get mad she could ramble nonstop well into early morning.
"I just checked my email and saw my professors, and yes I do mean professors, as in more than one, billing me for Three Hundred Dollars' worth of text books!"
He yawns, his mind dozing away from him along with his mouth speaking before his mind processes what he's saying. " . . . Vell, that doesn't sound too bad."
"I'm broke, North."
"Oh, yeah."
Sighing on the other end she switches her phone to her other shoulder while she types up in the search box for ads in her area. Anything that could pay her before Winter break that hopefully won't solely rely on tips would be a blessing. "I'm sorry, North. I shouldn't have called this early, go back to bed."
His yawn makes her grin, his sleepy voice even more so. "Okay, Toothy. Take care. Don't let the Yetis bite."
After she hangs up her smiles slips from her face once more. Stupid hard couch.
She would much rather prefer to do her research on her comfortable bed back in her dorm room, her less-than friendly roommate had simply turned to face the wall when she was googling but once she started mumbling about the unfairness of it all and started accidentally opening video ads her roommate threw her kiss print pillow at her head and told her to take it outside.
A brief argument and some packing of her stuff later, and she was out the door and heading for the Girl Dorms lobby, laptop under her arm along with a thick blanket to keep warm. As of now, she finds herself sitting uncomfortably in one of the thin, leather chairs with her blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a shall, still not any closer to a resolution.
"I'm broke, North."
That was the understatement of the century, she was beyond broke. She had to save up to be broke. That was how broke she was. She was working after hours as a janitor in the cafeteria, but not for money, but for Ramen Noodles. She was living off of cup noodles and water fountains, on the rare condensation she'd get enough free time to go to a sorority party where see can borrow some food from the buffet or when her roommate comes home with something for her. Those were the moments she was thankful for.
Of course, it's not like she didn't try to make things work. She's tried plenty of strategies, just last week she held a yard sell and got rid of everything she could afford to lose, anything else she tried to pawn off, off the internet. Then, she toyed with the idea of becoming a YouTube sensation so by some lucky chance she could get sponsored by a multi-million dollar company, but she tossed that ridicules notion aside without so much as a sideways glance. Finally, she decided it was time to get a job.
It was easier said than done obviously. After many turn downs she came across a karaoke bar downtown where she worked as a bartender for a while, unfortunately though her work hours and school hours clashed together. Within three months her grades were dropping to Cs and Ds, and if she wants to continue attending Burgess University, she'd have to maintain at least an A-B average.
She'd had to quit, but something good did come out of it, she made friends with the owner so now she could cash in a favor weekly for some free food and guest, she's never brought a guest over before.
Lost in her mind, she scans the computer screen with unseeing eyes.
Cosmetology testing Ad. "Try our new Red Rose Lipstick, have Men flock to you. Warning, not responsible for exploding lips."
Chimpanzee babysitter Ad. "Chimpanzee sitter needed. Feed five times a day, play with hourly. Warning, may fling poo at you and bite you."
Stripper Ad. "Calling all ladies! Calling all ladies! Leave your panties at home and bring your glittery ass to the Madam P's Strip Tease Club. A gentlemen's clubs for all men."
She grimaces at the last one, not that there was anything wrong with that except she couldn't dance and she would actually prefer to wear her panties.
She throws her head back and groans loudly. Is it too much to ask for a job that pays that doesn't involve exploding lips, aggressive monkeys, and pole dancing?
Her eye are scanning the screen with low expectations set, she might actually head down to that Madam P's place if she doesn't find something soon. Just then, as she scrolls down, she comes across an advertisement that actually looks . . . nice.
The ad is brightly colored with paint splotches designs with an art magazine title headlining the front page; Brushes and Such.
"Hmm," she leans forward and starts scrolling for the details.
She comes a across a picture of smiling women with paint streaks running up a down their bodies in a group shot photo, the description next to it explains how this magazines is on the look for some amateur models who are willing to pose for this month's page thirty-two article about body paint; a man and a woman.
So far so good. Now what about the price?
She finds a number to contact if interested and a tiny photo of the magazine owner, below that is the paying price of exactly four hundred dollars.
She could practically jump out of her seat and cheer at the news. Quickly, with fumbling fingers she dials the number and waits anxiously for the receptionist to answer.
For the second time to night she disturbs someone sleep with a phone call and bellows her most pleasant greeting into her ear.
The nasal lady winced. "Take it easy, honey, I can hear just fine without all the screaming."
Toothiana turned a sheepish red. "Right. Sorry, I was just wondering if the model position for Brushes and Such was still open, and if so then maybe I could have it." Her voice carries on a hopeful tone with an uncertain curve at the end.
"Look, hon," there's a pop at the end of the other line like bubbling gum. "If you want the job then you have to audition like everyone else and wait for a call back."
A feeling similar to a rock sinking in her stomach brings down her mood dramatically.
"Oh. I – I didn't realize . . ."
"I'll send you the details about the audition later, kay babe."
"Right. Yes, okay, thank you."
The line goes dead and she's left with the endless buzz only dead phones can sing. Slowly, she drops her phone to her side as if it weighs more than the tons on her shoulders.
So close.
Her phone suddenly tweets out her notification jiggle, she lifts it to find the details she was promised and reads them eagerly. It detailed that her audition consented of sending the artist who will be doing her shot – if she's hire of course – her full body and head shots. She doesn't want to waste any more time then she has to, so she sprints down the hall back to her dorm, completely abandoning her things in the lobby. Sneaking back into her room, she slithers over to her friend's make-up kit and her best clothes and pulls out a few needed necessities since she sold all of hers already.
Toothiana then sneaks in the girls' bathroom down the hall and tries to make herself as intoxicating as she can be at three a.m., using some make up to cover the bags under her eyes and a verity of others. Afterwards, she slips into a cute little number; an dark purple cocktail dress she use to wear as a bartender along with matching high heels that give her an extra lift, she always felt confident in those.
Satisfied with herself, Tooth takes three body pictures in front the body length mirror and two head shots. Afterwards she texts the pictures as well as some personal information about herself like how a hard worker she is and saves it into her phone, deciding that sending a bunch of pictures of herself to some guy this early is probably not the best way to get a job.
Before her first class that morning she sends her photos and spends the rest of class and the one after chewing her nails. By third period, she receives a text from someone named Aster Bunnymund, it reads: You're hired.
She's completely too giddy to read the rest as she runs back to her dorm, the happiest she's been in a while and defiantly the most hopeful.
0.o.0.o.0
Week old trash line the sidewalks and create a sour atmosphere under the hot sun, the breeze carrying its stench over to her nose. Old newspapers fly around her as the Metro train thunders over her head.
She gulps, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe the ad was fake just so some jerks can get pretty girls to come pose for them so they can add all those photos together into some sick scrap book, she's seen enough CSI: Miami to know what kind of weirdos are out there. It's one the reasons why she took self-defense classes and carries her pepper spray and taser with her, it also helps that her father made her take fencing classes when she was little.
If this Aster tries anything, she'll be ready.
Toothiana looks down at the printed paper of her email again, checking the address one last time and feeling anything but reassurance when she sees that, yes, this was indeed the place. Before her was a loft apartment building of at least five stories, the train tracks eye level with the third. They look like giant gray, and graffiti painted cubes stacked on top each other until their architect was sure they won't fall over again, some pointing more out and some sinking in. The first floor, which she guesses is just for staircase and elevators are red brick and shares the space with a garage next door, a short flight of concrete stairs leads to a green wooded door with a bronze lion knocker and a dead flower pot.
Cautiously, and a brief moment to question her desperation, she climbs the stairs with her hand on her purse and goes in.
She's a bit surprised not to find a drunkard sleeping on the stair are a family of rats scurrying across the floor, but nonetheless pleased. She checks the paper once more, fifth floor, apartment D3. Toothiana makes a move to use the elevators but decides against it, she doesn't need that thing breaking on her so instead climbs the stairs.
It wasn't hard, she caught her second wind while riding her bike at least two and half miles to get here so a few flight of stairs is hardly a workout.
His apartment door appears in front of her then, fifth floor, apartment D3.
Butterflies suddenly take flight and dance a tango around her belly and tingle her limbs all the way to her finger tips to a nauseating rhythm as she raises her hand to knock. She places hand on her belly, as if converting some positive energy will calm them but really, she's a mess of nerves and placing her hand there only intensified her uneasiness.
She knocks before she has a chance to second guess herself and not even a full minute passes before the door is thrown open, reviling a tall man wearing a charming, kind, and crooked grin.
He holds his painted hand out to her to shake. "You must be that pretty shelia who texted me earlier, right?"
Toothiana smiles her usual beaming grin with a bit more teeth after his compliment and gladly takes his hand in an enthusiastic shake. "I am she. Are you Aster Bunnymund?"
"The one and only, please come in." Aster slides to the side to allow her to enter.
She nods her thanks and has to hold back a gasp at his studio. She was half expecting his apartment to match the building and be run down and shabby, but this - he was actually pulling off an artist loft an apartment look with aesthetically pleasing colors and designs.
Upon first entering she notices the lay out is completely one large, concrete paint splatter floor with a rather big geometrical design rug in the middle of the room under some easels. Above her is no ceiling, she can see the ventilation system and the three fans lazy turning ahead of her, creating a nice breeze. The second open floor has a rolling ladder that leads to his bedroom.
To her left is a green carpeted poker table that also probably served as a dining table when he had guest over with matching chairs. On her right is a the kitchen, or what serves as a kitchen, the area includes a granite counter top shaped like a long L against the brick wall, the refrigerator on one end and the stove and washing machine on the other along with pots and pans hanging from there hooks.
The rest of the room is divided between living room and art office; he has a nice size TV with Victorian themed sofas and chairs surrounding it and the coffee table while the other half has all his art supplies. There's a clutter filled desk and wall dressed with sketches and finished drawings, a few paintings rest against the wall.
The rest of the apartment is filled with green plants and other aseptically pleasing things like pottery and candle sticks and books. Finally, there's an unfinished forest mural that takes up a whole wall next to the three thinly curtained windows.
It was a hell of a lot better than her cramp dorm that's for sure.
"Can I get you anything," he voice pierces her dream and drags her back to Earth.
She whips her head around to face him, startled. "Huh, oh, no. I'm fine thank you."
He nods and stuffs his hands into his well fitted, belched jeans. "Well, when every your ready then." He cocks his head in the direction of the mural. "Bathrooms over there, in case you need to freshen up or whatever, I'll just get everything set up out here."
"Okay, and thank you again."
Toothiana practically skips off to the bathroom, already seeing this ending well, feeling her butterflies settle and something anew racing instead. The bathroom is surprising smaller compared to the rest of the loft but it doesn't matter, she'll just check her hair and make-up, take a couple of photo holding a can of paint, get the money and then go home. Easy.
It doesn't hurt that her photographer is attractive, too.
She returns a moment later with her head down, her hands raking through her hair, "Okay I'm read– and Oh My God!"
Toothiana suddenly comes face to face with her photographer's naked, tattooed back, his taut muscles stretching and contracting as he lifted something she can't see over his broad shoulders. She's only human, so she admits to scanning his lean, yet muscled frame all the way down to his ass, before she stubbornly shakes her head and looks away and cover her eyes. "What are you doing!? Where the heck did your shirt go?!"
She hears something heavy hit the floor and something shifting, like plastic unfolding.
"I didn't wanna get my shirt dirty during the shot," he scoffs as if it's a joke. "Why are you still wearing your clothes, is the real question here, Shelia?"
"Why wouldn't I be wearing clothes?! Why does anybody have to be naked-"
"I'm not naked." He interjects.
"Half-naked, than. I see you still wearing your pants."
He chuckles again. "Well I'm not going to paint you in my underwear, that's bloody stupid. Besides, these jeans have been ruined for years, a little paint ain't go do nothing."
"What do you mean paint me?"
She can't see it behind her hands and closed lids, but his humorist's expression morphs into one of bewilderment. "Well . . . I mean is . . . ," he brings he hand up to rub the back of neck before pinching the bridge of nose. "You do realize this a nude body paint photo shoot, right. I'm supposed to paint your body with the magazine's supplies."
"No," she all but shouts. "I thought this was a just, you know a photoshoot with me, like holding paint or something."
"Why would you think that?"
"I don't know," she scoffs. "Maybe because that what normal people think."
Toothiana finds herself at a loss for words, her mind racing with everything that happen and what would have happened, her cheeks blushing to crimson from embarrassment and on a count of the half-naked man in the room.
"I think I need a moment."
Tooth turns quickly on her heal and heads back to the bathroom, sliding her back against the wall until she's on the floor with her face buried into her knees. She brings her head up and down with each word, "This. Is. A. Disaster." She groans.
After a moment she hears a knock on the door and it warily creaking open.
"You okay down there, shelia."
She groans again.
Aster scoots besides her, crossing his long legs over and examines her. She a good two feet shorter than him, and couple of years younger too, but in this moment she resembled a child who just can't catch a break and keeps messing up. She looked so small, fragile and just so hopeless, nothing like those pictures she sent.
"Look, Toothiana," he begins, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I usually don't do this but, maybe we could work something out."
She looks at him curiously, half dreading and half intrigued.
"I still need those photos, but maybe we can do it you underwear instead. And if you're willing to pose a certain way, than you're . . . lady bits won't get the shot. Deal?"
Tooth raises a brown at him. "What's the catch?"
He smirks, "No catch, love. You're not my first client to get cold feet."
"Alright," she takes his hand. "You got yourself a deal, Mr. Bunnymund."
"Call be Aster."
0.o.0.o.0
Aster leaves her to change in peace and when she's done, comes out in his robe with her pinned and completely free of all make-up.
True to his word, he changes his studio in a photoshoot, there's cameras and something that resembles an umbrella that's probably there to create a flash. He has multiple back ground set and a few chairs for her to model in, then there's of course him. Wearing only his ruined jeans and a plastic, see threw apron clutching some paint brushes, exposing his tattooed torso and arms. His thick dark hair pulled out of his face by a dark blue bandanna.
"Ready?"
She tugs at the robes ends, raising her shoulders bashfully. "As I'll ever be."
Toothiana moves to step on a platform he has set for her. He comes up behind her and holds out his hands for his robe. With some hesitance, she drops the robe into his waiting hands and quickly raise them again to cover her bra.
Of all the bras in the world, she decides to wear her pink and white lance one that gives her somewhat flat chest a lift and bunches her breast together. Her matching underwear ends just below the line of her pelvis, unlike her top she was curvier down under. A round, peach shape derriere and wide hips and thighs.
As Aster folds the robe, he guiltily allows his olive eyes to roam his canvas. She wasn't the first woman he had to paint in the buff, and more likely won't be the last, but each one he painted without this feeling. She was defiantly an attractive woman with a subtly hour glass figure, and her smooth light caramelized skin looks like it's never seen a blemish in her entire life. Her dark extremely wavy hair is pinned up in a tight bun atop of her head, light streaks of dyed pink, blue and green hair flow upwards.
The curves of her calves and fait deep of her collar bone, all wrapped up in her adorable pink and white underwear suddenly reminds him of candy.
I bet she taste sweet- whoa, wait a minute where did that come from?!
Bunny shakes his head after that thought, he must be hungry of sick or something because he's never thought things like when working, his relationships with clients were always professional and this time will be no different. The whole dinner thing was just supposed to be a thank you or celebratory dinner after her shot, not a date. Never a date.
He was just an artist admiring beauty in its human form, yeah that makes since.
Clearing his throat, he got what he needs and circles around her.
"I'm a need you to put your arms down, love." He tries to makes this as easy as possible for her.
Toothiana nods. "Okay."
Slowly, she lowers her arms to her sides and allow her breast to come to view. They weren't big C cups or Victoria Secret worthy but they looked mouthwatering all the same, to him at least.
Bunny takes dips his paint brush into some aqua blue paint and steps down to his knees, deciding that he'll start with her belly, "This may tickle, so try not laugh."
She nods and closes her eyes.
He grips her hips and turns this way and that, looking for the right angle before dragging his brush plainly slow across her abdomen, her breath hitching in her throat as did so. The brush travel from her navel to the spot between her breast and down her cervix, his close to her body that she can fell his hot breath drying the paint. He keeps one hand on her at all times, to turn her and balance her. Soon, he's painted her body blue with a picture of other shades to make it looked like she has feather, her wrist, ankles and collar bones are painted a glittered gold.
Now he was holding the back of her neck, "tilt her head back." He whispers, standing to his full height with only his apron standing between them from making contact.
She blinks at him and does as told, exposing her column of a neck. His trained artist eye trails the lining of neck to her curved jaw bone, a true master piece. He almost regrets painting her.
Skillfully, he brings his paint brush down and creates one long stroke from the dip in her collar bone to her chin, dragging out a reluctant and quiet moan gasp form. This makes her muscles contract and almost throws him off his game, but he holds her still and gently rubs her hairline.
"Shh," he whispers against the cool wet paint. "Try not to move."
She can't nod, she'll ruin his work. She can't speak, that, too will ruin his work. So she simply hums her understanding. "Mmhmm."
Her lips part when he draws on her face, eye lids twitching and her nose filling with the scent of . . . chocolate? It's not the paint so it must be him. She never cared for sugar but in this situation she doesn't mind.
It doesn't take long for him to paint her face and soon enough he has her posing and taking pictures. In the first shot she looks like some feathery fairy.
After a quick shower, they repeat the process all over again, this time she bends and stands on her hands for one to create a bird. They do this for most of the afternoon; paint, picture, shower, repeat.
It actually because a little fun, she even pulled out her phone and stated playing some music from her playlist, only a hand full of times did her music suddenly turn to show tunes.
Toothiana returns from the shower for the fourth time today, drying her hair and wrapped in a white fluffy towel to find Aster putting everything away and a little to her dismay wearing a shirt again.
"We're all done?" She calls, making a move to retrieve her clothes so she can dress later.
He looks over his shoulder. "Yep. All done. Your payment is on the counter by the way."
Tooth looks over to spot an open envelope, she reaches for it and counts her cash with a smile. "Well it was pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Bunnymund."
He yanks the back grounds down from the ceiling and folds them, chuckling. "I think you and I are familiar enough with each other to be on a first name bases."
She giggles as she takes her clothes and money into the bathroom to dress. Once retuning she notices the lack of light in the apartment, only to find the sun as set and darkness has arisen.
"Oh crap," she mumbles.
"What's the matter," Bunny comes up behind her, wiping his hands free of paint.
"I gotta head back to campus and its dark out. Curfew's in . . ." she checks her watch. "Thirty minutes."
"No problem," he shrugs. "I'll take you home."
"I couldn't ask you to. I mean you've so much all ready."
"I insists," He grabs some keys from the coffee table and starts to the door. "Coming?"
It's not like she has much a choice, and she two strikes against her already, another one she'll be thrown out the dorm. Biting her lip, she grabs her purse and follows after him.
The two make their way down stairs until the reach the garage she saw early as she give him her address. She has a curious look on her face as he pulls out his motorcycle, green and black with yellow highlights. She hopes he's just moving it aside to get to his real ride, but after rolling it out into the street and hopping on, she knows it's his.
Bunny pulls out his helmet and hands it to her and she comes to ride behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle in a tight embrace.
He starts the engine and it roars to life like a beast, "Hang on!"
With a flick of his wrist their off speeding down the street and dodging traffic, cars behind them blare their horns out in rage. She laughs over the sound of the engine and watches the world speed pass them. It doesn't take long to reach campus, they arrive with only fifteen minutes to spare thanks to that short cut he took.
Bunny's bike comes to a stop just in front of the Bugress University gate. Toothiana hops off with a skip in her step, her adrenaline pump and flowing.
"That was amazing!" She wraps her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you!"
Amused and slightly put off, he pats her back in return. "Don't mention."
The clock that strike on the hour at the BU rings suddenly, alerting her that it was time to go. She pulls back reluctantly and brushes a hand over her bangs.
"Look, Bunny, uh," she's been meaning to this. She has to after all he's done, especially since he didn't have to. "You done a lot for me and just want you to know that it doesn't go unnoticed. The whole painting thing and then driving me home. It's just very sweet of you."
He tilts his head at her, a beginning of a smile forming.
"I was just wondering if, maybe can repay by taking you to dinner." She sends a smile his way that seems uncertain. "I know this really nice place down town. I can put in a good word with the owner for some free dinner. If you're interested."
He smiles, showing of his charming crooked grin. "I'd love to."
A breath she didn't realize she was holding rushes out of her. "Good. Great, uh, so I'll call you how about Saturday?"
"Sounds good," he nods.
She rushes out an "Okay," and heads back to her dorm, sending one more looks across her shoulder before turning back to plant a quick kiss on his cheek and heading back to dorm again.
The kiss leaves a burning imprint that sinks into skin, warming him in the night air. A stupid grin like non-other takes hold of his face as he drives off.
Looks like he got a date.
0.o.0.o.0
A/N 1: Sorry its late, guys. Read, Review, etc., ect.