Fic: Illusions Fandom: DCU, Pairing: Tim/Cassie, Rated: PG-13
Title: Illusions
Author: in_excelsis_dea
Fandom: DCU
Characters: Tim/Cassie
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Shirtless!Tim and Agressive!Teasing!Cassie, plus some suggestive talk and actions.
Summary: It's the one day they can stop pretending.
Disclaimer: Not mine. I am merely borrowing the characters.
AN: Written for 31_days prompt Dec. 9th In love on Fridays, firstline_fic Week 20 Their eyes meet across the room and 7snogs prompt 1. Uniform. Oh, how I have missed my Tim/Cassie. This...didn't exactly turn out like I intended, but... I hope you still enjoy it anyways. Comments and con crit are always appreciated.
Their eyes meet across the crowded room. They have eye-contact for mere seconds before Linda jostles her and someone steps in front of Tim, but those few seconds are enough. The game has started.
"I'm going to get another drink," she excuses herself to Linda, before ducking away. The drinks are to the left, along with the other refreshments, but she purposefully veers to the right, getting lost in the crowd. It's part of the ritual, after all.
The music is loud and has a nice beat to it, and she dances her way through the crowds. She has a nice body and she knows it- having super powers is good for something, apparently- and she has to turn down various invitations, before she sees her mark.
The boy is dark-haired and has blue eyes, but his are hidden behind thin frames. He wears low-riding jeans, baggy on his hips, and an oversized t-shirt- the complete opposite of what Tim is wearing. Perfect.
"Do you want to dance?" She tosses him a flirtatious glance as she comes up beside him. The guy simply nods, and she grabs his hand and leads him further away from the crowd until she finds a semi-free spot and turns to him, beginning to dance.
She can feel his gaze on her back, and she takes her cue to up the play a notch.
Grabbing him, she pulls him up against her as she continues to dance. The boy- she still doesn't know his name, and she doesn't really care- goes along with it, putting his arms around her, perhaps a little lower than she'd like- but it's all part of the game.
Five...four...three...two...one...
She's ripped out of the guy's grasp, stumbling backwards into a hard, familiar body. The guy scrambles back, undoubtedly realizing it's in his best interest to get lost, and disappears into the crowd. She's forcefully turned around, and were she a normal human, she'd have bruises from his iron-grip.
"I don't like his hands on you," he hisses into her ear, before shifting slightly and tracing it with his tongue. "I don't like you being a tease," he whispers, before trailing a kiss down her cheek bone. "And I hate this stupid game," he says, before kissing her lips hard against her teeth.
"It's our Friday ritual," she breaks away from his mouth, leaning backwards. "If you insist on decorum during the week, then I should be able to decide how we spend the weekend."
She seizes her chance and flips him around, so he's against the wall and she is the one holding him in place. "We go to College together. I moved to this city for you, Tim, and you insist on being nothing but friends during the week. But it's the weekend now, and it's my turn."
She backs away enough to take in his full body. At first it was weird, seeing him in civvies. But now she's used to it, and she enjoys the look. It's a complete contrast to his Robin costume. Clean-cut jeans, khakis, polo shirts, oxford shirts- a kind of preppy look that she'd make fun of if it were anyone else- but it works on him. Right now, his dark blue shirt brings out the color of his eyes, while the undone top buttons show he isn't as stuffy as one might think. His slacks are charcoal and expensive, and out of place at a College frat party, but it fits him. It's kind of a new uniform for him.
Of course, her main interest is how long it's going to take to get it off of him.
She meets his eyes, smiling rather like the cat who ate the canary. For a fleeting moment, she could have sworn she saw fear in his eyes.
"You're not afraid of me, are you?" She sticks one of her legs between his, pushing against him.
"...No," he firmly states, frowning. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Pity," she aligns their hips and rocks against him. His face scrunches up, but he keeps silent. "Because I think that would have been really hot. You, of all people, afraid of me."
"Well, I'm not." His voice nearly breaks as she sticks a hand down his shirt, scratching down his chest.
"I don't know..." She trails off, removing her hand from inside his shirt to work on the buttons. "Then tell me this, Timmy- do you like it when I do this?"
It's more satisfying than she thought to rip what must have been an expensive, designer shirt from his body. His chest is well-defined, and scarred in some places, but it gives him character- not that he doesn't have enough already.
His shocked expression is more than worth the cost of the shirt (which she knows Alfred will silently replace anyways, so it's not like she's expected to pay him back). She tosses the ripped fabric aside and presses her chest against his. "I always find it amusing when I can do something to surprise you."
"I'd prefer it if you refrained from ripping my clothes from my body as a way to surprise me in the future," he drolly says.
"I have to use the chance when I get it," she grins at him. "After all, you won't let me touch you like this during the week, and lately our weekends have been dedicated to the Titans. Kevlar and Nomex aren't easily ripped- and even if they were, they don't have the same effect."
"So you're punishing me for wanting to be professional with the Titans, and being busy during the week?"
"I'm not punishing you at all, Tim. I'm simply trying to make the most of our few hours together on the one day of the week you let me love you." She pauses for a second, "and no matter what you say, your body quite enjoys it."
"To be frank, I'm an eighteen year-old male with a hot, willing girl pressed up against me. What did you think was going to happen?" He tries to shift away from her, but she won't let him. When it comes down to it, he knows more tricks than she does, but she's stronger. And he's not about to try something that will either hurt her or expose him as something other than a slightly geeky College freshman, who just happened to luck out in the girlfriend department.
"I thought you might be a bit more open to some fun, but if you're not there yet, that's fine. Bringing you to that point is always enjoyable. I guess I didn't spend enough time with that other guy to fully bring out 'Passionate and irrational, thinking with only hormones and urges' Tim." She grinds against him, causing him to grimace as his hips thrust unconsciously against her.
"There you go," she laughs. "Let it out."
She's only slightly surprised when he uses the distraction to change places with her, shoving her into the wall. He seems to have finally snapped. And when he aggressively kisses her, shoving his tongue down her throat, squeezing her even tighter against him, she knows her plan has succeeded- as it always does.
He may like to pretend during the other six days of the week, but Fridays are hers.
Author: in_excelsis_dea
Fandom: DCU
Characters: Tim/Cassie
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Shirtless!Tim and Agressive!Teasing!Cassie, plus some suggestive talk and actions.
Summary: It's the one day they can stop pretending.
Disclaimer: Not mine. I am merely borrowing the characters.
AN: Written for 31_days prompt Dec. 9th In love on Fridays, firstline_fic Week 20 Their eyes meet across the room and 7snogs prompt 1. Uniform. Oh, how I have missed my Tim/Cassie. This...didn't exactly turn out like I intended, but... I hope you still enjoy it anyways. Comments and con crit are always appreciated.
Their eyes meet across the crowded room. They have eye-contact for mere seconds before Linda jostles her and someone steps in front of Tim, but those few seconds are enough. The game has started.
"I'm going to get another drink," she excuses herself to Linda, before ducking away. The drinks are to the left, along with the other refreshments, but she purposefully veers to the right, getting lost in the crowd. It's part of the ritual, after all.
The music is loud and has a nice beat to it, and she dances her way through the crowds. She has a nice body and she knows it- having super powers is good for something, apparently- and she has to turn down various invitations, before she sees her mark.
The boy is dark-haired and has blue eyes, but his are hidden behind thin frames. He wears low-riding jeans, baggy on his hips, and an oversized t-shirt- the complete opposite of what Tim is wearing. Perfect.
"Do you want to dance?" She tosses him a flirtatious glance as she comes up beside him. The guy simply nods, and she grabs his hand and leads him further away from the crowd until she finds a semi-free spot and turns to him, beginning to dance.
She can feel his gaze on her back, and she takes her cue to up the play a notch.
Grabbing him, she pulls him up against her as she continues to dance. The boy- she still doesn't know his name, and she doesn't really care- goes along with it, putting his arms around her, perhaps a little lower than she'd like- but it's all part of the game.
Five...four...three...two...one...
She's ripped out of the guy's grasp, stumbling backwards into a hard, familiar body. The guy scrambles back, undoubtedly realizing it's in his best interest to get lost, and disappears into the crowd. She's forcefully turned around, and were she a normal human, she'd have bruises from his iron-grip.
"I don't like his hands on you," he hisses into her ear, before shifting slightly and tracing it with his tongue. "I don't like you being a tease," he whispers, before trailing a kiss down her cheek bone. "And I hate this stupid game," he says, before kissing her lips hard against her teeth.
"It's our Friday ritual," she breaks away from his mouth, leaning backwards. "If you insist on decorum during the week, then I should be able to decide how we spend the weekend."
She seizes her chance and flips him around, so he's against the wall and she is the one holding him in place. "We go to College together. I moved to this city for you, Tim, and you insist on being nothing but friends during the week. But it's the weekend now, and it's my turn."
She backs away enough to take in his full body. At first it was weird, seeing him in civvies. But now she's used to it, and she enjoys the look. It's a complete contrast to his Robin costume. Clean-cut jeans, khakis, polo shirts, oxford shirts- a kind of preppy look that she'd make fun of if it were anyone else- but it works on him. Right now, his dark blue shirt brings out the color of his eyes, while the undone top buttons show he isn't as stuffy as one might think. His slacks are charcoal and expensive, and out of place at a College frat party, but it fits him. It's kind of a new uniform for him.
Of course, her main interest is how long it's going to take to get it off of him.
She meets his eyes, smiling rather like the cat who ate the canary. For a fleeting moment, she could have sworn she saw fear in his eyes.
"You're not afraid of me, are you?" She sticks one of her legs between his, pushing against him.
"...No," he firmly states, frowning. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Pity," she aligns their hips and rocks against him. His face scrunches up, but he keeps silent. "Because I think that would have been really hot. You, of all people, afraid of me."
"Well, I'm not." His voice nearly breaks as she sticks a hand down his shirt, scratching down his chest.
"I don't know..." She trails off, removing her hand from inside his shirt to work on the buttons. "Then tell me this, Timmy- do you like it when I do this?"
It's more satisfying than she thought to rip what must have been an expensive, designer shirt from his body. His chest is well-defined, and scarred in some places, but it gives him character- not that he doesn't have enough already.
His shocked expression is more than worth the cost of the shirt (which she knows Alfred will silently replace anyways, so it's not like she's expected to pay him back). She tosses the ripped fabric aside and presses her chest against his. "I always find it amusing when I can do something to surprise you."
"I'd prefer it if you refrained from ripping my clothes from my body as a way to surprise me in the future," he drolly says.
"I have to use the chance when I get it," she grins at him. "After all, you won't let me touch you like this during the week, and lately our weekends have been dedicated to the Titans. Kevlar and Nomex aren't easily ripped- and even if they were, they don't have the same effect."
"So you're punishing me for wanting to be professional with the Titans, and being busy during the week?"
"I'm not punishing you at all, Tim. I'm simply trying to make the most of our few hours together on the one day of the week you let me love you." She pauses for a second, "and no matter what you say, your body quite enjoys it."
"To be frank, I'm an eighteen year-old male with a hot, willing girl pressed up against me. What did you think was going to happen?" He tries to shift away from her, but she won't let him. When it comes down to it, he knows more tricks than she does, but she's stronger. And he's not about to try something that will either hurt her or expose him as something other than a slightly geeky College freshman, who just happened to luck out in the girlfriend department.
"I thought you might be a bit more open to some fun, but if you're not there yet, that's fine. Bringing you to that point is always enjoyable. I guess I didn't spend enough time with that other guy to fully bring out 'Passionate and irrational, thinking with only hormones and urges' Tim." She grinds against him, causing him to grimace as his hips thrust unconsciously against her.
"There you go," she laughs. "Let it out."
She's only slightly surprised when he uses the distraction to change places with her, shoving her into the wall. He seems to have finally snapped. And when he aggressively kisses her, shoving his tongue down her throat, squeezing her even tighter against him, she knows her plan has succeeded- as it always does.
He may like to pretend during the other six days of the week, but Fridays are hers.