Title: Flick of the Tongue
Author: Eena
Rating: 15-ish
Disclaimer: Smith owns TVD
Characters: Caroline/Tyler
Summary: The press of lips on lips, the rough pull of fingers on hips . . .
Spoilers: 2.07-ish, nothing explicit.
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Somewhere in between the press of lips on lips, the rough pull of fingers on hips, and the ioh god feeling right there, her other teeth slide out and into his neck.
Blood, sweet, tangy, coppery blood-it fills her mouth, her eyes, her mind, right until she's swimming in a sea of red that never ends. And she'll happily drown.
Hands grab at her shoulders and push. She fights back, fingernails digging into shoulder blades with enough force to break skin. She stubbornly sets her jaw, unwilling to be dislodged. But the hands have a strength that can match hers. They push, harder and harder, until they give one final thrust.
Cool air hits her lips as she's removed from his neck. She flies backwards, body shuddering when it impacts against a tree. Pain courses through her and does little to pacify her bloodlust. She snarls and tries to rush forward again.
The hands find her shoulders and once again she's thrown back against the tree. The killer in her, the hunter, wants to repay this with pain, lots of it. She tries to lunge, again and again, but the hands hold her firm. Soon, she hears a name, one she knows, being shouted over and over again.
"Caroline! Caroline! Goddamn it-Caroline!"
That's her name.
Slowly, she stops struggling. Deep breaths, in and out, and the waves of red roll back. Her vision clears, she can focus again. She looks up and sees what she's done-Tyler Lockwood standing in front of her, blood on his neck and staining his shirt. She tries to work her mouth, tries to make words come out. But there's still a taste of him on her lips and all she can do is slip out her tongue and swallow up the lingering traces of copper.
He stays as he is, hands on her shoulder and frown on his face. Her brain catches up with events and she starts to sniffle. "Tyler-I didn't mean-"
One hand moves from her shoulder and covers her mouth. The frown is gone and replaced with a smirk holds many promises and all of them capable of turning her knees to jelly. "It's fine," he assures her. "Just remember the rules: if I can't bite you, you can't bite me."
It's not enough; she should apologize. But then it's lips on lips and fingers digging into hips once again, and really-what more needs to be said?
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