A/N - Hey, just a few quick things for those of you who actually bother to read the Author's note; This is officially my first Teen Titans fanfiction story. It's based solely on the original Cartoon Network show, not the new Teen Titans Go! series. In any case, I'd really love to get more involved in the fandom, so I welcome any and all invitations to chat, about anything really, especially about this show and the characters. I hope to write quite a few more stories, during my stay here in Titan's Tower, and as always, please REVIEW! It's the only thing that keeps me writing! Well, that, and coffee, but still...

Disclaimer: I own Teen Titans. Yeah, you weren't expecting that one, were you? I also own three jet skis, a tropical island, and one third of the NY Jets. You know, the third that can actually play? In any case, enjoy the story! Cheers!

She relished the thrill, the rush of adrenaline and the absolute pleasure it caused in her. Burning from within her, surging from the pit of her stomach, and perhaps a bit lower too; she let it overpower her. She let it wash over her, cover her, corrupt her. She let herself go, throwing away any and all rational thoughts, and she just let him kiss her.

She had to think hard in order to remember how it had started. It was all a blur, and his warm hands exploring every inch of her exposed body weren't helping her concentration. All she could remember was a soft, tantalizing, almost shy kiss, and soon it had developed into a desperate, desire-fueled, all-out, tongue wrestling match.

And now, his tongue was working its way in circles down her neck, his hands drawing the contour of her sides as he slowly but steadily made his way downwards. She arched her back, giving him more to work with as he reached her chest, and she let out a passionate moan as he took full advantage of her offering. Her head snapped back, exposing her bare neck as a shiver made its way up her spine. She was on cloud nine, and the way things were going, she was about to go a couple of clouds higher.

It was overpowering. The warm, tingling feel of his skin against hers. The sight of his naked body hovering above her, skin beaded with sweat, highlighting his lean, muscular physique. The musky scent of their mingled sweat and other assorted fluids made her head spin. In a rather good way. It fed something primal within her, something that longed to taste more than just his lips, and that was impatiently waiting for her turn to taste his body.

His breath tickled her naked belly as he pulled away, and she writhed in agony at the lack of touch. She looked down, her chest heaving with gasping breaths, and saw him looking up at her with mischievous eyes. She frowned at him, hating what he was doing. She knew that he'd done it on purpose. She knew what he was waiting for. And he knew that she knew.

She hated him.

It was too much for her. She was so close, and yet so far away. If he stopped now, she thought it might kill her. She bit her lip, and looked down at him with the most pitiful face she could muster. A disgusting smirk played on his lips, and he ran a teasing finger down her belly, snaking all the way down to her leg, where it played around innocently, never coming close to the place where she really wanted it to go.

"Stop it!"

His eyebrows lifted in an expression of mock surprise, his lips, his delicious, tantalizing lips, taunting her in the form of a curious oh. He shrugged his shoulders, and with a look of absolute nonchalance, he started to press his hands down on the mattress on either side of her, lifting his body away from her still-shivering form. Her heart beat against her ribs, as if punishing itself. Warning her not to let him go.

"Wait! Please…?"

He smiled again, playfully, seductively, agonizingly destructive. But he remained frozen. No single point of contact existed between their bodies, yet she could feel the warmth that radiated from him. The lust and passion that seemed to seep from his every pore was overwhelming. He was playing with her, and she couldn't fight him anymore. It was torturing her, and in this game, he was clearly the better player.

With a defeated sigh, she closed her eyes for a second and softly bit at the inside of her lower lip.

"Fine…"

He looked at her expectantly, a spark of wanting twinkling dangerously in his eyes.

"Please Garfield...?" she said, her monotonous voice crackling under the stress of the situation. Her mind told her not to beg, but her body was yelling at her to do it, and fast.

"Pleeeaase!" She tried to yell at him, but it came out in the form of a desperate, deprived moan. He seemed to prefer it, and showed his sparkling teeth in a very satisfied smile. His tongue danced between his parted lips, and she felt her breath hitch in anticipation.

His eyes flickered again, and slowly, his face inched closer to her belly, where he lay a gentle, puckering kiss. His lips barely brushed her skin, but it sent another shock wave of pleasure through her body. The action in itself wasn't so pleasurable, although she wasn't complaining. It was what it was all leading up to that really rocked her to the core, and made every second that much more excruciating.

He began to stroke her body once again, his hands creating sensual paths down her legs, and back up, slowly reaching towards her inner thighs, and spreading them ever so slowly. It was torturous in its simplicity.

Suddenly, his face was lower that it had ever been, and she lost track of his eyes as they wandered over the most intimate parts of her body. Blood pumped furiously through her veins, and her face tingled as a warm blush spread through most of her upper body, as well as some other areas. She'd never gone so far with anyone else. Hell, she'd never really gotten anywhere with anyone else. It was exciting her on so many levels, and her head was simply floating around, barely conscious enough to get as much pleasure in as she could.

His tongue flickered around, as if searching for a sweet spot, his warm panting breaths playing merry hell against her sensitive skin. He was so close, and yet he was holding back. She wanted to reach down and pull him closer; she wanted to feel him completely. Her hips bucked forward involuntarily, and her wish was partially granted, as his mouth met her body sooner than he had anticipated. In a split second, her world turned upside down, inside out, and absolutely incredible. Everything she had been waiting for, suffering for, begging for, was now coming to life in a wonderful fantasy.

As his mouth began to respond to the sudden contact, she shuddered at the touch, and began to feel herself fill up with pleasure. It was amazing, totally and utterly intense, overpowering her on a physical and emotional level. She was reveling in a pleasure that she had never before experienced, when suddenly, surprisingly, she heard his voice.

"…Waffles?"

She froze. Everything froze. The pleasure, the panting, the feeling, everything. It all just stopped. She looked down, past her glistening, nude body, down towards his face, looking up at her from in between her thighs, on his face an incredibly innocent, questioning look.

"Huh?"

"…Raven…Waffles…?" He spoke again.

She tilted her head, not understanding, and just as quickly as she did, she felt herself falling. It was short, abrupt, and when she realized it, she tried to catch herself before she fell all the way…

Only to wake up as her head slipped from her hand, and almost faceplanted into the kitchen table. She composed herself quickly, and looked around, taking in her surroundings as fast as she could, and trying to make sense of it all.

She was in the Titan's kitchen, and by the looks of things, in the middle of breakfast. She didn't remember falling asleep, but it must have been only a short while ago. A small trail of vapor snaked its way up from her teacup, which could only mean that the water had boiled no more than ten, fifteen minutes ago at most. She took in her friends' expressions, each of them staring at her with something between concern and humor on their faces.

"Hey, are you gonna want waffles, or not? Raven?" Beast Boy's voice finished bringing her back into the present, and she turned towards him, startled. He only offered a smile and a plate stacked dangerously high with freshly made waffles. She didn't answer. She was simply staring at him in what appeared to be horror. She quickly shifted her gaze to the other Titans as Beast Boy's ears drooped, and he set the plate of waffles down in front of him in defeat.

"Well, look who decided to join the realm of the living!" Cyborg's booming voice startled her more than she cared to admit. She was still recoiling from her unexpected vertigo, and her dream was slowly slipping away into her subconscious. She ignored Cyborg's taunt, trying to focus on remembering what she'd been dreaming about. Whatever it was, she knew it was one of the few dreams in her lifetime that she'd actually enjoyed, and she wasn't too keen on forgetting it.

"Raven? Are you alright?" Robin spoke up, looking up at her from the newspaper held tight in his gloved hands. She recognized the undertone of concern in his question, and relaxed a little. She was probably scaring everyone with her behavior. She shifted in her seat and cleared her throat before answering.

"I'm fine. I guess I dozed off for a bit. I didn't sleep well last night."

"Well, you didn't seem to have any trouble sleeping a few minutes ago!" Cyborg chuckled before turning his attention back to the sizzling meats cooking on the burner. "Never thought I'd see you of all people with such a dopey grin!"

The other Titans joined Cyborg in his light chuckling, but Raven didn't feel as joyful. She hated being put under the spotlight, but more than that, Cyborg's comment had been, unsettling. She had been, smiling? She probably would have been less surprised to know that she'd blown up half the tower in her sleep. But, smiling? Whatever the dream had been, it must have been a hell of an experience.

"Oh yes, friend, you looked very pleased in your sleep!" Starfire giggled. It just brought another bout of laughter from the boys. Starfire, unaware of the double connotation, laughed along, albeit not as heartily as the others.

She was glad her hood was up, and she relished the way the shadows cast on her face managed to hide the creeping blush she felt.

"Whatever." She offered, trying to put an end to the conversation. For the most part, it seemed to work.

The laughter died down quickly, and everyone returned to their own business. Robin hid his face behind his newspaper, Star returned to playing with her fork, and every so often, asked Robin if there was anything interesting. It was sweet really. They'd been trying to keep their relationship a secret, but it had become anything but. Still, Raven at least was glad that they'd decided to avoid almost all public displays of affection.

Cyborg returned to confecting his breakfast, and had engaged Beast Boy in a lighthearted conversation regarding some new videogame he'd seen for sale the other day. Beast Boy eagerly chattered away, digging heartily into his waffles and waving his hands around when he felt he needed to illustrate some important aspect of whatever they were talking about.

Raven allowed herself a tiny smile. They were her friends. They were her family. And just like every other time they were together like this, in peace, she felt warm inside. She took a sip of her tea, and closed her eyes, savoring the delicious bitter drink. It soothed her, and allowed her chaotic mindscape to settle down, at least a bit. Her dream was all but forgotten, and she wrapped her cloak around herself, settling into her chair.

But something was missing. She cracked one eye open, and looked around on the table, searching for the missing piece to her morning puzzle. She found the book scattered off to her side, and she realized she must have been reading it when she nodded off, as it had been left open, spine up, marking the page where she'd left off with an ugly crease down the middle. She frowned.

She used her powers to carry it back into her hands, going unnoticed by the others. Her hands emerged from within her blue shell, and she grasped at its cover hungrily, the need to carry on the story once again clawing at her insides. She'd loved the book from the moment she'd started reading it, and she remembered she'd been in a particularly interesting part of the story last time she'd read it. Still, she couldn't remember what part she'd read that morning.

She flipped back a few pages to the beginning of the chapter, until she recognized the plot, and began to read once more, eyes devouring every word printed on the pages.

And as she read, coming closer and closer to the page where it had been left open, her eyes widened, her heart racing, and she struggled to hold her grip on the book with trembling hands. Word for word, she took it in, and piece by piece, everything started to make sense.

The scene where she'd nodded off, was indeed a particularly interesting part of the story. The heroine had been approached by one of the minor characters, some childhood friend, who had confessed his undying love to her. And though at first protested, the scene quickly unraveled into a very intimate, very graphic, and very detailed description of their, ahem, amorous interactions.

She felt her blush return, but this time, ten times worse. Her heart was beating dangerously fast within her chest, and her breathing became more tense. Not because of the risqué love scene in her book. But because it seemed perilously familiar. And she was starting to realize why.

Her dream entered her mind, as if it had been held back against its will. It crashed forth from her subconscious, and every detail of it was thrust into her mind's eye. She remembered feeling everything her dream-self had felt. The feeling of his skin against hers. The musky scents, the tangy taste of sweat, his hands reaching down, and his mouth…

A sharp cracking noise brought her back to reality, and she glanced down just in time to see her mug shatter to pieces, lukewarm tea spilling across the table, and dripping towards the floor. She snapped the book closed and hugged it tight against her chest, staring in horror at the scene before her, as her friends around her let out yelps of surprise.

"Whoa, Rae, you okay?" Cyborg asked. She ignored his voice. Robin was staring at her with a mix between suspicion and concern etched behind his mask, while Starfire mirrored her own actions, hugging Silky close to her as she watched her with friendly concern.

"Raven?"

His voice commanded her attention. She looked sharply to her right, and saw him jump slightly at her brisk movement. He donned a sad look of concern and sympathy, his fang poking out from his pouting lip. His hands on the edge of his seat, ready to spring to action if need be. His eyes, emerald-green and looking at her, staring at her, reading her like some undecipherable book.

It was him. She knew it. She knew it when she saw his lips. When she looked at his hands, clenching to his seat. At his eyes, sparkling, this time out of sincere concern. But she knew. In her dreams. It had been him.

Her heart plummeted.

She closed her eyes and stood from the table, still keeping a tight hold on her book, as if it were some sort of lifeline. Pulling her chair aside, she took a few steps back and used her power to lift the shards of ceramic silently towards the garbage bin. She watched as Cyborg stepped on the pedal to open the lid, his eyes never leaving her, mouth slightly ajar in surprise. But she didn't acknowledge him. She didn't acknowledge any of them. She was afraid to.

They all watched in silence as she lifted a rag with her powers, and soaked up the tea spread across the table. She tossed it into the sink, and exhaled, releasing a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding in.

Suddenly, a hand made contact with her shoulder, and she turned to see its owner. Her mind went blank when she saw the familiar green hand. Hands she'd dreamt about, hands that had become familiar in all too many ways.

"Rae, what's wrong?"

If she hadn't been focusing on his hands, the entire tower probably would have sunk into the bay. She shrugged him off quickly, mentally scolding herself for her behavior, and mumbled something about having to meditate.

She left them all staring at the doorway though which she disappeared, and made her way through the hall, and into her room. Once inside the inky darkness of her refuge, she slammed the door shut, and leaned against its cold, steel surface. She sank down, sliding against her door, shuddering all the way. She didn't understand. This wasn't supposed to happen. None of it was. She dropped the book on the floor in front of her, and sank her head into her hands.

She'd had a dream. That was normal. The fact that it wasn't a nightmare wasn't completely normal, but she'd had decent dreams before. This dream, however, had been erotic. She'd be lying if she said she'd never dreamed about lewd scenarios, but most of that occurred in her nightmares, preying on her fear of intimacy and her own body. This was the first time she'd ever dreamt such a scene in such a heavenly context.

And she had enjoyed it. The feel of it, even though it was practically ethereal, and only existed in a subconscious plane. She could remember the way she'd felt, everything she'd seen, they paths his hands had taken across her skin, all as if it had happened just a few minutes back.

But the worst part of it was the simply, undeniable fact, that the person who'd provoked those feelings, the one who in her dream had made her gasp, and moan, and practically scream, the one who'd caused her body to act of its own accord, was no one less than quite possibly the most annoying, immature, carefree person she knew. And coincidentally, her best friend.

She lifted her head, and bumped it gently against the steel door, clenching her teeth. She was on the verge of tears. It was too complicated, and she hated it when things got too complicated. This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to feel that way. Not about anyone, least of all him!

Rampaging monsters, every-day criminals, hell, even quantum mechanics, she could deal with. Arcane spells and demonic rituals, if she set her mind to it, were as simple as 6th grade algebra. But these… feelings, these brand new emotions, they were dangerous, and they were complicated, and they were running rampant in her mind. And she had no idea what to do about it.

Using all of her strength, she stood up, shaking feebly as she made her way towards he dresser. There, she saw the familiar ornate handle of what was undoubtedly one of her most prized possessions. Her dark hand mirror, her own personal portal into her mind, and home to the only people who could rival Beast Boy with their impertinence.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she closed her eyes, and focused, welcoming the abrupt pulling from the depths of her own mindscape. And as she entered the familiar landscape of Nevermore, her mind so caught up in the process of entering, well, itself, she failed to notice the soft tapping sound of someone knocking at her door, and a soft, familiar voice that called out to her,

"Raven…?"

A/N - Well? What'd you think? Review, Review, and then Review some more, and I'll update the story! I've already finished writing chapter two as of this moment (Jan 29th, 2015, 3:01 AM), and I'll have it polished by tomorrow. However, I want to wait at least a week between updates, to allow readers to leave reviews, and follow and favorite the story! You don't have to, if you don't want to, but if you liked the story so far, consider doing so, cause it means a lot to me! In any case, I'll get started on chapter three, and hopefully, read a few reviews! Please?