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PICTURE PROMPT MEME

Picture Prompt Meme

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Your own drugs? [ Her brows arches curiously, pulling her fingers back before Kavinsky's teeth can chomp down on them with a quiet laugh -- the boy's redeemable qualities were few and far between, but Veronica at least found him to be fairly amusing. Amusing and entertaining enough to not completely ignore his calls, or go out of her way to drop by his house.

Originally he was probably just supposed to be some one-off thing. Someone she found drunk at her house and then never spoke to again. But somehow Kavinsky had wormed his way into her daily life -- maybe into her heart. Maybe. ]

Maybe not. I wasn't really one for bonfires out in the middle of nowhere, or whatever it is people do in the middle of nowhere. [ She smirks, playful and a little bit challenging, tilting her head back enough to look up at Kavinsky when he moves. ]

For someone who calls them his own drugs, you sure are a little fuzzy on the specifics. [ Her gaze moves away from his face, down his arm to where his wrist is right next to her head and only barely in her field of vision. She examines it for a moment -- pale skin, slightly jutting bones, the hints of scarring that she can only barely see in the flashing strobe and multicolored lights. -- before returning her attention to his face, her pupils already looking just a little wider. ]

Oh yeah? With what?

Well they had to come from fucking somewhere, right?

[He hasn't told her about his dream things and he doesn't know if he ever will. It's like those poor crippled fuckers going on about everything they could do that they can't anyone and everyone feels sorry for them. That's the last thing he wants. Veronica's easier to talk to than a lot of people around here, though, but mainly it's all been superficial, he supposes. He's still not sure why they haven't fucked. ]

Bet you did all that high glass champagne flutes shit. Poured mommy and daddies pills into a bowl and passed that shit around.

[Which isn't all that different from when Kavinsky used to pass whatever he had around, but none of it was cushy shit that he knows all those New York kids agot up to]

I like surprises. [He watches her watching him, giving a small shrug when she asks, then bends his elbows and presses his weight against her as he leans in to kiss her]

I didn't realize you were your own supplier.

[ Rather than answer Kavinsky's question, Veronica gives a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders. She'd definitely been to some high-class parties in New York. Where spoiled rich kids kept their mountains of overpriced cocaine on gaudy silver platters like they'd all gotten permanently stuck in the early 80's party scene.

Though, minus the atrocious outfits, the people she'd once surrounded herself with had better taste than that. ]

You're lucky, then. [ She's able to whisper the words in a low tone just before Kavinsky's lips meet her own and the rest she mumbles into the press of their mouths against one another. ] Because I am full of surprises.

[ Her lips lift into a slight smile as she finally kisses him full on, her mouth dropping open and her tongue licking at his. One of her hands slides down the length of his arm and over his shoulder, keeping him pulled in close by wrapping her fingers around the fabric of his shirt. He tastes like one too many cigarettes, too much alcohol, and many bad decisions. So much like the New York partyboys from Veronica's distant memories, but nothing at all like the redhead she'd left behind -- the boy who looked at Veronica like she was the center of the universe, like she'd literally put the stars in the sky. The boy Veronica hadn't ever deserved. ]

You don't know all that much about me.

[No one really knows anything about him, especially not here. People don't ask, don't care, so he's not about to tell. He and Veronica have had some fun times though, so she might know more than most, but he knows better than that by now, keeping the deeper parts of himself heavily guarded.

He smirks against her lips, knowing full well that's she's probably full of her own sort of surprises, and that there might be even more of them as these drugs start coursing through their system.

He shifts to get closer, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and he kinda hopes that this is the moment Ronan decides to show up, so he can get a full view of him not giving a single shit about anything Ronan related. She doesn't push him away, which is the best part of it all, so he keeps kissing her until he starts to feel floaty and free from the drugs. ]

[ Kavinsky's drugs spring into action quick -- or Veronica is simply not used to doing anything more than getting drunk and all the more vulnerable to its overwhelming effects. -- her lips tingling with each press of Kavinsky's against them, her heart thudding loud and wild against her chest, explosions of light and trails of neon appearing in front of her vision whenever she would close her eyes.

They were really a work of art. Truly something Veronica hadn't ever experienced before.

Her body presses flush against Kavinsky's, hands moving across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, her fingers getting lost in his dark hair as she allows him to steal every last breath from her lungs with nothing more than the way his mouth moves against her own. Eventually she pulls away enough that her lips are just barely brushing against Kavinsky's, her thigh sliding between his legs and pressing right against his groin. ] Maybe you'll have to teach me a thing or two then, won't you?

[They're not as good as his dream drugs, nothing ever will be and he wishes she could have felt those instead of this, but these are good enough for now. They're good enough to feel something different and that's all that really matters here anymore.

Veronica is definitely something different, too. She's a really good kisser, and not so fucked up that Kavinsky has to drag her along. He finds himself enjoying it, even if he wishes it was someone else. The more they kiss though, the more he finds that he's okay with this being Veronica instead. It's not like he wasn't trying to bag her anyway.

He keeps one hand where it is, the other he moves to her ass to draw her in closer, his eyes hazy when she pulls away. He presses against her let when it goes sliding between his and he bites at her lip, tugging. ]

Lucky for you I'm a damn good teacher. You wanna go inside?

[ Kissing Kavinsky is something that comes far too easily -- then again, Veronica supposes that she's more used to kissing boys like him than good boys-next-door like Archie Andrews. Boys like Kavinsky are more appropriate for her, he's a broken and damaged thing just like she is. Each of them with their own set of secrets, scars, and stories that they keep heavily guarded. Veronica talks about New York, and she talks about Riverdale, but all the tales are the good memories. The nights at the drive-in watching old movies, midnight milkshakes in the corner booth at Pop's, after-hours parties with exclusive guest lists, handsome red-heads, perfect blondes, and their beautifully brooding self-proclaimed weirdo.

She leaves out the murder, the lies, the deceit, the father who was the center of her world and ultimately betrayed her. The mother who did hardly any better.

She gasps softly against Kavinsky's mouth when he pulls her in close, her lips lifting into a mischievous grin when his teeth take a hold of the lower one. Her fingers tighten briefly in his hair as she forces him down for another kiss that's all fiery passion and very little coordination -- Kavinsky's drugs make everything feel so much more intense, but don't do much for Veronica's bearings. The world feels a little tilted and she clings to Kavinsky out of more than just need. It feels like he's the only stable thing currently, the only thing that isn't slightly off its axis. ] I can't promise I'll be a good student, though.

[ Her voice is a low purr fueled by arousal, the denim of her shorts riding up underneath Kavinsky's hand until she can feel his fingertips against her skin and the fire that they leave burning in their wake. ]

What's inside? [ And it's amazing how well Veronica Lodge can feign innocent curiosity with her thigh pressing against Kavinsky's semi, her lips ghosting just above his, and his hand gripping tightly onto her ass. ]

[ Maybe that's why he finds her company less irritating than most girls he's ever been around. They're the same kind of broken in some ways, even if they're from two different kinds of worlds. His memories are not so good, but the better ones all come with blue eyes, a black beemer and combat boots, even if they're muddled out by so many other things and memories he's still trying to forget.

He's still thinking about Ronan when he kisses her, but only because that stupid boy is always in the back of his head. The more the drugs settle into his system though, the easier it is to push his face away and think of Veronica instead. She never makes him explain himself and she always comes back. Kavinsky tends to like that in people. ]

That's okay, I mostly like 'em bad.

[He grins and kisses her again, squeezing her ass, letting his fingers travel under whatever fabric he can get into as he pulls her away from the side of the house and starts walking backwards, shoving them through some bouncing people]

What's inside? Your first lesson. Unless you want it out here, but that gross guy over there's already checking out your ass. You wanna give him a show?

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