Kagome (_newworld) wrote,

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[The Vampire Diaries] want you (to want me) - Rebekah/Caroline

Title: want you (to want me)
Author: Kagome
Series: The Vampire Diaries (television series verse)
Word Count: 6,084
Rating: NC-17
Characters, Pairings: Rebekah/Caroline, mentions Tyler/Caroline, one-sided Klaus/Caroline and very brief and mild Klaus/Rebekah.
Summary: It's not that she wants her, exactly (even though some twisted part of her does). The thing is, she wants Caroline to want her.
Warnings: General spoilers for season three (this takes place before Tyler's return), sexual content, language, mild hints of incest towards the end.
Notes: This was a prompt requested by ishi_chan at the TVD comment ficathon here. Prompt was: Caroline/Rebekah or Caroline/Rebekah/Katherine - want is a dangerous thing. the desire to be wanted is even more dangerous. Of course, I went with Rebekah/Caroline and I hope it doesn't suck because it's been a while since I've written fic. *hides*

Want is not something that is limited to humans—she has long-since been what some would call a 'monster' and if anything, desire has been magnified for her. She wants, and she wants to be wanted (even if only for a short time), and it is this drive (this need, this fundamental, ever-existing, damnable and inescapable part of herself) that is the cause of her current predicament.

She sits at the corner of the bar alone, though this is her own choice--

(say a prayer for the lonely, but she doesn't need anyone's fucking prayers)

--because there isn't anyone here worth her time. At least, not yet. Of course, she can feel other patrons' eyes on her; she knows they're leering. She knows they're talking, but she doesn't care. They want her, but their want gives her no real satisfaction, as they are only lusting after what they cannot have.

(She is not like these fools. She is not like Damon Salvatore; she does not believe in wanting something you cannot have; she does not believe that she is incapable of acquiring something that she wants... and she stubbornly ignores the fact that Damon has had a taste or two of her as well, not that he's ever wanted her anyway.)

She won't let these twisted thoughts in her head spoil her good time (the one that she isn't having yet), though. She's just got to wait for the 'good time' to walk in the door, to catch her eye.

As if on cue, Caroline Forbes slides onto a stool a few feet away from her. Rebekah gives her a cursory glance, and then really looks at her, not that it's something she hasn't done before when it comes to this vampire—the looking thing. She's glanced, she's sneered, she's scowled, she's glared, she hasn't given her those puppy-eyes that her little wolf-boy gives her.

“Boyfriend still MIA?” she asks, all casual and nonchalant, a devil-may-care grin on her lips. She downs what's left of her vodka and asks for another as she waits for Caroline's response. She doesn't wait long.

Caroline frowns at her as if she has no right to ask such a thing (she can ask whatever she damn well pleases), as if it's not her business (it isn't, but that's never stopped her before). “He is, but I don't see why that should matter to you.”

It doesn't, because Rebekah doesn't really care, and it does... because it means that Caroline's night is free. Rebekah doesn't like her (doesn't fawn over her like Niklaus), and she is certain that Caroline shares the same sentiment when it comes to her, but that doesn't mean that they can't reach a temporary sort of agreement.

Caroline is lonely—the emotion is coming off of her in waves and Rebekah can see it, smell it. She can also take advantage of it (because she can manipulate just as well as she can be manipulated; she is as good as Damon or Katherine or Elena). She thinks she probably already made the decision to do so the moment that Caroline sat down.

(She tries not to think of how Caroline is probably just like her in some ways; she tries not to think of how badly this used-to-be-girl-turned-vampire must want to be wanted; instead, she thinks of ways that she can simply make her want and knows that she has the advantage over her brother in this area.)

Rebekah's shrug is as easy as her smile, and she shifts, sliding off her stool and moving to occupy the one closest to Caroline. Caroline raises an eyebrow at this but doesn't comment. Instead, she compels the bartender to give her a drink—she orders something appropriately girly and fruity, something about a sunset, but that isn't what Rebekah's paying attention to.

She's watching the way Caroline tenses up ever so slightly, and she's watching the way Caroline is watching her as she sips her fruity drink. Caroline must think she isn't looking, or doesn't notice, but she is and she does. She promptly orders another refill for herself.

“I figure the both of us could use some company,” Rebekah says by way of explanation, even though she doesn't think it's necessary, even though she doesn't feel the need to justify her actions because that's just the type of individual she is.

Company, distraction... they're both one and the same.

Caroline is still wary, still tense, and so Rebekah orders her another drink (something stronger) when she finishes her first. A few more drinks later, and Caroline is spilling her guts, informing Rebekah of how lonely she's been (not like Rebekah doesn't already know) and how worried she is about Tyler, and it's all sort of sad and strange because some part of Rebekah thinks that Caroline deserves better... or maybe that's just the alcohol talking. She can't remember how many she herself has had.

However, she still has the good sense to not go on about her own emotional cripplings—no point in talking about her backstabbing brother, or her dysfunctional family as a whole, or how she just can't seem to hold onto anyone except for those that can't love her fully. She thinks (knows) she's got Caroline beat, but to each his or her own, and Caroline is stuck with the mindset of a seventeen-year-old girl who wants Prince Charming to sweep her off of her feet.

She listens, she nods when appropriate. She raises her glass as they eventually toast to a truce, however temporary it may be. She notes with no small amount of satisfaction that Caroline is relaxed now, but not sloppy—fluid and smooth, and she kind of respects that. The talking is helping her relax further, Rebekah knows, and so she lets her blather for as long as she wants. The night is still young, after all.

At some point, Caroline stops rambling and she half-laughs, snatching Rebekah's glass and downing the remainder of its contents in one gulp. “I'm sorry; I'm talking your head off and you probably don't appreciate that. I'm really good at talking, apparently.”

Rebekah semi-agrees with the former and completely agrees with the latter, but this is not what she tells Caroline. Instead, she reaches over, brushing the tips of her fingers ever-so-lightly along Caroline's forearm, and she says: “You're just lonely and you don't feel wanted right now. There's nothing wrong with that.” She can feign concern quite adequately (ignores that she knows the feeling all too well).

Caroline's eyes widen for just a moment, and there's a flash of distrust which is quickly replaced by curiosity and something akin to what could be desire. Rebekah knows very well that Caroline has a good head on her shoulders, but loneliness and want will do strange things to you, like make you consider sleeping with the enemy, as it were.

“You're treading into dangerous territory,” Caroline tells her, like she wants it to be a fact or a warning, but it only comes out as a statement as bland as if she were talking about the weather.

“I could tell you the same,” Rebekah informs, the words a low purr—a little threat and a lot of seduction. Her fingers slide up the length of one of Caroline's legs, and she doesn't stop when she reaches the hem of her skirt, either. Instead, she moves her fingers up and over, gliding over the softness of Caroline's panties, finding the fabric slightly damp.

The gasp that Caroline emits makes something deep down low in her belly tighten, and she smiles when the other vampire doesn't push her away. Caroline looks a little surprised, a little off-kilter, maybe even a little afraid. Mostly, she just looks like she wants Rebekah to do that again and so Rebekah does, but with a little more pressure this time.

Caroline's eyes close and she whispers, “I shouldn't let you do this.” Not quite surrender, but close.

“But you're letting me,” Rebekah points out, knowing already that she's won—or she's going to, at least. She knows the others (those pathetic, not-worth-her-time humans) are watching; she can hear their low whistles, and she knows they'd probably get a kick out of watching her take Caroline right there on the bar, face buried between her thighs and nails scoring gashes down her legs.

They might even like watching her make Caroline bleed a little, but she's never been much of an exhibitionist when it comes to sex.

Caroline has no clever retort, just a muted whimper in reply as Rebekah's fingers brush over that spot again and again and Caroline becomes a little wetter with each motion. Oh, the wonders of a perpetually horny teenage female—but maybe that's not it. Or at least not entirely it. Tyler's been gone for a while, and Rebekah suspects that Caroline's been resorting to masturbation ever since.

Well, it's time to change that (and not because Rebekah feels pity for her even though she might; it's because Caroline is wet for her and maybe Rebekah feels like indulging).

“We should go somewhere,” Rebekah tells her—a near-command wrapped in the cloak of a not-so-subtle suggestion.

“Maybe... we should,” Caroline agrees, all breathless and yearning, and they ignore the catcalls as they head for the door.

Rebekah briefly considers taking Caroline back to her current residence, but rapidly decides against it, as Nik will probably only spoil her fun. Instead, she takes Caroline to a hotel—nothing seedy or trashy, because that's not her style.

The room itself is nice, as is the view outside, but it is the creature in the center of the room that currently holds her interest, and at the moment, she is gazing back at her, all questioning and uncertain again. Rebekah will have to dispel those feelings rapidly.

“This isn't--” Caroline starts, but Rebekah interrupts her, moving across the room so quickly (probably quicker than Caroline is capable of) and Caroline gasps. Rebekah gladly takes advantage of the pause, and of those slightly-parted lips, tugging the other vampire closer and kissing her.

It isn't gentle, but Rebekah doesn't mean for it to be. Caroline doesn't push her away, doesn't try to break the kiss. Instead, her lips part a little more, and Rebekah's tongue delves past them, brushing slickly against Caroline's tongue. Caroline moans softly, her hands coming to rest lightly on Rebekah's shoulders, and Rebekah draws back just enough to nip and Caroline's lower lip. She uses her fangs, of course, and she draws blood, which is metallic and delicious-tasting on her tongue, in her mouth. But the wound closes quickly, and Rebekah does it again, a little harder, just for another taste.

Soon, Caroline is not just letting Rebekah kiss her—she's actively kissing her back, and her hands begin to wander, first dropping down to Rebekah's waist and then sliding slowly upwards, fingers dancing over her ribs before moving to gently squeeze her breasts. Her thumbs brush over Rebekah's already-hardening nipples, and Rebekah breaks the kiss, hissing softly, partly in pleasure and partly in reprimand.

“I do not believe I gave you permission to do that,” Rebekah says, her hands capturing Caroline's wrists. She walks her backwards to the bed and then pushes, all the while keeping a tight hold on those exploratory hands of hers.

Caroline struggles a little – or makes a show of it, at least – and Rebekah chuckles softly, rearranging both of their bodies so that she can grip Caroline's wrists with one hand and touch her with the other. She smiles then, all mischief and sensuality, and Caroline actually pouts at her.

“This is the game you like to play?” she asks, and Rebekah gives a half-shrug, the fingers of her right hand dipping under Caroline's shirt, tracing invisible circles around her bellybutton.

“On occasion,” is Rebekah's response. Though she enjoys teasing, she does not like to remain idle, and she always focuses on the objective. Her hand moves higher, pushing Caroline's bra upwards, out of her way. “It has been a while since I've sought pleasure from another woman, though.”

(Does not think of how neither of them are truly women, but no longer children either—they'd had that taken from them.)

“I've never....” Caroline trails off and doesn't finish, but Rebekah gets the gist, and her smile turns almost feral.

“Too busy paying all of your attention to the boys, huh?” Rebekah asks as she tweaks one of Caroline's nipples and then the other, allowing herself a slight shiver at Caroline's answering moan. “You learn after a while that sometimes girls can be as fun, if not more. For instance, girls already know exactly where to touch.” She demonstrates by cupping Caroline's right breast and squeezing it, scraping a nail lightly over her nipple, and enjoying the way Caroline's back arches a little at the contact.

“I think I am beginning to understand that,” Caroline says, lashes lowered and tongue darting out to lick at her lips—no longer shy and ambivalent, but ready to take what is to be given. Rebekah thinks that it's partly due to the alcohol, but mostly due to a craving that demands a fix.

Rebekah changes position again, once more using both hands to hold Caroline down (even though she knows it isn't necessary, but that's not the point—she's doing it because it's fun and she wants to prove that she is in control of this). She lowers her mouth to Caroline's for a brief, heated kiss, and then trails lower, grazing her fangs along her jaw and neck, drawing blood again at the juncture of neck and shoulder and enjoying the way Caroline squirms beneath her.

She travels lower, her tongue swirling around one nipple and then the other, teeth gently tugging, mouth not-so-gently sucking, and she can tell by Caroline's soft groans that she enjoys it. She can feel the bones of Caroline's forearms shifting within her grip, and she reflexively tightens her hold, which earns her another low moan.

“Not yet,” she purrs, “but soon enough.” She continues to lavish attention upon Caroline's breasts until the other vampire's thighs are scissoring together – a sign that she is restless and needy – and her nipples are overly-sensitive and the prettiest shade of pink thanks to Rebekah's mouth.

She is possibly enjoying herself as much as Caroline is, even though she is not currently being touched or kissed. What she savors most is the look in the other's eyes—the unhidden want, and she knows that Caroline is not thinking of Tyler, but entirely of her in this moment. For this span of time, she is truly wanted, and she feels no guilt in this.

Rebekah cannot go much further without relinquishing her hold on Caroline's arms and so she gradually loosens her grip before releasing Caroline's arms entirely. She curls her fingers around her hips instead and begins kissing and sucking and nipping downwards, starting with the little valley between Caroline's breasts.

Caroline remains relatively still despite being released, although her hips do tilt upwards a little when Rebekah lowers her body, fitting herself between Caroline's thighs. There are too many layers of clothing in the way, but Rebekah will deal with that in a moment (she won't allow herself much time to dally, because she can smell Caroline's arousal and it makes her hungry in a way that she hasn't been for a while), but for right now, she bites at each space between Caroline's ribs (and soothes the non-marks with her tongue thereafter) and rubs against her just slightly—just enough to tease.

She discovers that Caroline likes the area around her navel to be kissed and licked, and she also takes great delight in the way Caroline groans when she dips her tongue beneath the waistband of her skirt, tantalizingly out of reach of where they both know Caroline wants her to be.

Rebekah bypasses that particular area entirely for now, instead choosing to push Caroline's skirt up and kiss along her inner thighs. When her fangs sink into one of them, Caroline cries out, hands flying to the back of Rebekah's head, cradling it as she weaves her fingers through Rebekah's blonde tresses. She doesn't push Rebekah away—she pulls her closer, and her moans and the way her body thrashes underneath Rebekah's mouth indicate that Caroline is loving this.

The same treatment is given to the opposite thigh (equal opportunity and all that), and Rebekah likes the way Caroline is panting for her—likes the way Caroline is keening and raking nails down her back through her blouse. She thinks she hears it tear a little, but can't be quite sure over the sounds that Caroline's making and the sounds that she herself is making (yes, she is sighing in contentment, and yes she is sucking on sensitive skin, tugging, letting Caroline's blood – or the blood that Caroline has made her own – fill her mouth).

By the time Rebekah draws back, there's blood on her chin and and if Caroline were human still, she'd be dead by now (and maybe Rebekah would've fed her beforehand, made her hers just because she looks beautiful like this, or maybe she would've turned her just to make her brother angry). But she isn't, and oh, she's already dead, isn't she? She'd laugh at her joke if it was one. But she doesn't laugh, only smiles and moves in for a rough kiss which Caroline readily returns. Rebekah realizes that she also likes the way Caroline's fingers feel, tangled in her hair. She also likes the way Caroline laps the blood from her chin—neither like a puppy nor a kitten, but like a predator (and she is one, she is), and it makes Rebekah shudder and makes heat blossom all over her skin, too good and too much and nowhere near enough. She's going to have to remind her little companion just who is in charge here.

(She thinks, too, of how Caroline's wolf-boyfriend can't bite her like Rebekah can, and maybe this is just one of those things that both of them have been craving.)

The panties go next—they rip easily from Caroline's body, and Caroline makes a sound of protest that quickly turns into a cry of pleasure as Rebekah dips down, licking at Caroline's slit like Caroline licked at her mouth and chin. The taste of her arousal is almost as good as (better than) the taste of her blood, and Rebekah pushes at Caroline's legs, and they slide further apart for her readily and willingly. Oh god yes how Caroline wants her to touch-taste-take her. It's a high all its own, and Rebekah can't remember the last time a woman's been this ready or eager for her, though to be honest, she's not trying very hard to recall anything of the sort right now.

Rebekah is no longer teasing—she knows just how to make Caroline come undone and Caroline is begging for it, all soft and aching, and Rebekah would like to say that she's just taking pity on the other vampire, but she knows this isn't the case. The (surprising, or maybe not-so-surprising) thing is that she wants (wants, needs, maybe) to watch Caroline fall off the pinnacle that both of them know she is quickly approaching. Yes, Rebekah wants to see this perhaps even more than she wants her own release (she's still fully clothed, and she's so very wet and that heat surging inside of her is nothing if not impatient); she doesn't quite understand this, and she doesn't care to examine it very closely, either.

She circles Caroline's clit with her tongue, and softly echoes Caroline's groan. Caroline's thighs are trembling, and when she presses her tongue inside Caroline's opening, the vampire beneath her bucks her hips and whimpers quite prettily.


It is a mantra now, and there is no pause for breath (not that they really need it), and the word repeated like that, again and again, makes Rebekah's slow rhythm (in and out and around, more for building pleasure than promising release—or maybe it's both) falter. She stills, but only for a second, only to reposition so that she can give Caroline what she knows she really wants.

Her mouth forms a seal around Caroline's clit and she gently suckles and flicks her tongue back and forth—slowly at first, and then faster. Caroline's hips begin moving against her, and she applies more pressure with her tongue, moves even quicker, doesn't stop when Caroline's body begins to tense all over. Instead, she shoves three fingers inside of the vampire beneath her, and she matches the rhythm that her mouth has begun and follows through with it, watching as Caroline tenses up like a bowstring and then quivers all over, crying out and clenching around Rebekan's fingers again and again.

Eventually, Caroline stills and Rebekah moves, withdrawing her fingers and raising her body so that she is sitting on her knees between Caroline's still-spread legs. She licks her fingers clean as Caroline watches her through lowered lashes, and she says, “I know your slumber-parties with your little witch and your doppleganger have never headed in this direction.”

Caroline frowns at her teasing. “No,” she replies, sounding slightly hoarse, “that would just be weird.”

“Like this isn't?” Rebekah counters. “Sleeping with the enemy, and all that?” She rakes her nails down Caroline's belly just to watch her shiver, and she smiles.

“I didn't think this was supposed to be about talking,” Caroline tells her, and Rebekah considers being offended by the comment (for Caroline is the one with the fondness for rambling), but changes her mind when Caroline's body begins moving restlessly again, like she wants more.

Rebekah figures that she can give her that, and as she looks at her (really looks at her), she thinks she gets it. She can see that Caroline wants more—but not just more of this (not just more of her), but more of everything. Perhaps more than this town could ever offer her.

Perhaps, in another time and place, Rebekah could have shown her so many places and things; she thinks Caroline would have liked the early 1900's. She also thinks that maybe even though 'right now' isn't perfect timing, maybe sometime later....

However, she isn't a future-oriented individual. She likes to focus on the present and so she forces that train of thought to halt on its tracks, and softly says, “I think I might see why Klaus is so smitten with you.”

Caroline sits up and maneuvers herself until she is mostly settled on Rebekah's lap. Her hair is tousled and her shirt and skirt are rumpled. “Klaus is not here,” she reminds Rebekah. “Nor is Elena, nor Bonnie.” After a pause, she adds, “Neither is Tyler. So I don't need or want to hear about anyone or anything aside from what is going on inside this room right now. And in my opinion, both of us have on too many clothes.”

Rebekah tilts her head, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before her lips curve upwards in another slow, sultry smile. “I think you enjoy startling people with your sudden changes in demeanor... but I do agree with you; we are a bit overdressed.”

She's barely gotten the words out of her mouth before Caroline is kissing her with renewed vigor and urgency, and all but tearing at her clothes. She kind of figured that Caroline would want something a little slower and gentler the second go around, but she supposes that she's figured wrong, judging by the speed at which her blouse, jeans, bra, and panties wind up on the floor all the way across the room.

Rebekah attempts to remove the rest of Caroline's clothing, but Caroline won't have any of that, either. She does it herself, and then pushes Rebekah back against the mattress, leaning over her so that their breasts are touching, and it is not at all an unpleasant sensation. She wonders what Caroline has up her metaphorical sleeve, and asks her as much: “So what do you call yourself doing?”

“It's your turn,” Caroline replies simply, like it's a stupid question for Rebekah to ask in the first place, but Rebekah hadn't anticipated this—she hadn't even imagined that Caroline would be the aggressor before now.

No, no, correction: Before she started licking her own blood from Rebekah's chin. Then, Rebekah had seen potential.

And now Caroline is acting on it, turning potentiality into reality.

“I'll let you play that game if you want to,” Rebekah tells her, genuine curiosity trumping her reluctance to relinquish control of this little encounter.

(Equal opportunity, hadn't she thought that a short while ago?)

“Oh, but I do want to.” Caroline says it like it's some kind of reassurance, or just an affirmation. Either way, she is looking at Rebekah like she wants to devour her and maybe Rebekah doesn't mind so much, because again, it is the want, there that matters. If Caroline's desire right now is to pleasure her, to explore her body as she explored Caroline's moments ago, then who is she to deny her?

(Well, she's a fucking Original, for one thing, and has every right to deny her, but she doesn't.)

“Put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart,” Rebekah purrs (an invitation and a command and a challenge all rolled into one), “and then we'll see.”

And Caroline does. She reaches up, tangling her fingers in Rebekah's hair and pulling a little, making Rebekah tilt her head back to avoid further tugging on her blonde tresses (she might like more of that, later). Of course, this is all just part of the game they're playing—Caroline is undoubtedly strong, but Rebekah is an Original and is much stronger, and could kill Caroline without so much as batting an eyelash.

She feels Caroline's mouth on the column of her throat, and then there are the sharp points of her fangs, and the pain is brief and achingly sweet when Caroline strikes. One of Caroline's hands then slips between them, fingers teasing Rebekah's clit, moving in leisurely circles, and her pace is just a tad frustrating, but she won't let herself complain just yet.

The bite on her neck has already healed by the time Caroline's mouth finds her right breast. She bites Rebekah here too, and Rebekah moans low in her throat and arches her back, moving one hand to the back of Caroline's head, holding her in place. The feel of Caroline's fangs sinking into such a sensitive area dances the thin line between pleasure and pain, and she has to give Caroline credit—sugar and spice and everything nice, bullshit. This one has a little venom in her, and maybe that's what drew Rebekah to her in the first place.

Caroline doesn't let Rebekah hold her down for long (or perhaps it would be more correct to say that Rebekah doesn't let herself hold Caroline down for long), and when her tongue circles the nipple of Rebekah's left breast, Rebekah prepares herself for a bite which doesn't come. Instead, here, Caroline is gentle, sucking and kneading and purring against Rebekah's skin, and Rebekah's breath hitches when a finger slips inside of her.

In and out, in and out (one, two, three, four), and Caroline withdraws her finger, much to Rebekah's displeasure.

Now impatient and not really willing to wait for her own release (her inner walls are clenching almost painfully), Rebekah demands to know why Caroline is stopping so suddenly: “What the hell did you sto--”

But Caroline effectively silences her with another kiss, bloody and nearly brutal, tongues rubbing together, hot and slick and so very good, and Rebekah wonders why she hasn't done this with Caroline before now.

(The fact that she hated her – and still might, a little – might have actually added to the fun.)

Caroline pulls back then and quickly changes position, rearranging both Rebekah's legs and her own so that their groins are pressed together, and Rebekah can tell just how wet both of them are. She has to fight the urge to buck her hips upwards, and her patience is currently wearing very thin.

Her left ankle is resting against Caroline's left shoulder, and Caroline's fingers are playing almost absent-mindedly along her skin, now soft and somewhat hesitant, and now is not the time that Rebekah wants her to play the shy, virgin schoolgirl.

“I don't have any experience when it comes to giving another girl an orgasm,” Caroline beings, not quite meeting Rebekah's eyes. “But, uhm... I saw this somewhere and just figured... it'll work? I mean, with enough pressure.”

Rebekah raises an eyebrow and barely holds back the laugh that threatens to spill past her lips. “And just where did you see this, Caroline?”

Caroline makes a face at her like she doesn't want to discuss it and then she starts rotating her hips, slow circles of liquid movement that make Rebekah forget what they're discussing. Eventually, Caroline breathlessly answers, “Tyler's a guy. He has porn. We watched a lesbian video of his once, and the women were doing this.”

“Did it turn you on?” Rebekah asks, groaning as Caroline swivels her hips again.

“It did, but not as much as this is,” Caroline answers, and then she begins moving her hips in earnest—back-and-forth this time instead of round-and-round. She may be lacking in experience in this particular area, but it certainly doesn't show as she grinds against Rebekah, her right palm braced against the mattress, giving her purchase.

Rebekah can't decide where her own hands should go. She grips at her own hair for a moment, and then slides her palms over her breasts (pausing to squeeze) and the flat of her belly. She fists them in the sheets, but that doesn't last long. She winds up clutching at Caroline's hips, helping her set a rhythm, and that's where her hands stay, fingers digging in. Caroline doesn't seem to mind in spite of the fact that Rebekah is holding onto her so tightly that there would definitely be bruises and possibly fractured bones if Caroline were still human.

(But she isn't, and that makes all the difference. Pleasure with pain.)

Caroline's grinding against her hard and fast, and there is no sweetness here, only desperation and purpose. Their clits are rub, rub, rubbing and it's achingly good; the wetness between them is increasing as is her pleasure (and Caroline's as well, judging from the sounds that she's making), and she knows that she won't last long, not that there's anything saying that she has to.

The intensity of her orgasm surprises her—the world goes dark and then bright white, and it hurts her eyes. Even when it's dark again, there are luminous starbursts that dance behind her eyelids. Her inner walls clench repeatedly around nothing, but that's all right, because Caroline is still moving against her, helping her ride out her orgasm, and Caroline is shuddering and coming undone just like Rebekah is; Rebekah's name is even on her lips this time, and oh, that's almost as satisfying as the orgasm itself.

After a few moments, Caroline collapses bonelessly on top of her, all satiation and no grace. Their limbs are at odd, uncomfortable angles, but Rebekah can tolerate it for a short while, at least long enough for them to regroup.

Eventually, Caroline lifts her head and looks at Rebekah. “Now what?” she asks, her now-messy hair falling in her face.

Rebekah brushes those sweaty locks of hair back with surprisingly gentle fingers. “The night is young, Caroline.”

And indeed, it is.


It is well past ten in the morning before they check out of the hotel, and both Rebekah and Caroline wink flirtatiously at the receptionist at the front desk before heading out the door.

Their night had certainly been an eventful one, and Rebekah had lost count of the orgasms they'd given each other, of the number of times they'd taken each other.

“Regrets?” she asks Caroline as their heels click on the sidewalk in tandem.

“I'm not sure how to answer that question yet,” Caroline answers, and Rebekah knows she's thinking of Tyler.

Rebekah shrugs—she lets Caroline's renewed uncertainty roll off of her like it doesn't matter in the slightest.

(She doesn't say that it does, because she wishes that it didn't.)

Before they part ways, Rebekah tells her, “You've got my number now. You know how to reach me if you ever desire a... repeat performance.”

Caroline bites at her lip and nods, which means that she is at least considering it. Consideration is a good thing.

(She knows now that her brother is right—Caroline is this precious, rare jewel amongst dirt and coal and ashes, and Rebekah is undeniably drawn to her. The difference between herself and Klaus, however, is this: Caroline is drawn to her as well.)

Rebekah's barely made it through the front door before Klaus is upon her, anger and betrayal and disgust plainly visible in his expression.

“I can smell her all over you,” he hisses, and maybe she should be afraid, but she isn't.

“You should,” she replies, calm and collected and victorious. “She's been all over me for the past several hours.”

Klaus narrows his eyes and shoves Rebekah back against the closed door. “Want is a dangerous thing, Rebekah. The desire to be wanted is even more dangerous, especially when you desire to be wanted by someone who isn't yours for the taking.”

His words are a thinly-veiled threat, and the anger with which they are spoken send sparks of electricity down Rebekah's spine.

“Oh, but she let me take her, brother,” Rebekah purrs, purposefully angling her body so that the front of her brushes against the front of Klaus. She smiles then, and it is without innocence, without shame, and without apology.

“Repeatedly,” she tacks on half a breath later, and Klaus growls at her, his hold on her tightening before he releases her altogether and steps away, rapidly putting distance between their bodies.

He is as petulant as a child whose favorite toy was stolen from him in the sandbox. Well, Rebekah supposes she is guilty of that, but she is proud of it and not at all ashamed.

“You watch yourself, little sister,” he snarls at her before turning and stalking away, shoulders hunched and hands balled up at his sides, “I've daggered you before and don't think I won't do it again.”

“Oooh, in what way do you mean it this time, Nik?” she calls after him, all innuendo and no fear because she knows it'll piss him off further, but he doesn't respond. It's fine by her, because she knows that she got the last word and she knows that he'll be thinking about her and Caroline together, and he'll be stewing in his anger and envy. Let him.

Her phone rings then, and she smiles at the name on the display before answering. “Hello, Caroline.”

“So, I was thinking on the way home,” Caroline begins, voice low and silky, “and I was wondering about that repeat performance.”

“Were you?” Rebekah asks, and when she hears Caroline stutter out a soft moan, she inhales quick and sharp and feels something low in her belly (want, need) coil tight and twist. “Why, Caroline Forbes, are you touching yourself while speaking with me over the phone?” She doesn't have to ask because she already knows, but she wants to hear the answer all the same.

“I am,” Caroline replies, breath catching for a moment before she continues. “So... the repeat performance. I was thinking that we could meet somewhere tonight?”

It is a question and yet not a question—it is just the edge of a demand, but Rebekah isn't bothered by it; all she hears is the want in Caroline's voice, and that is more than enough.

In the foyer in broad daylight, her back against the front door, Rebekah slides her hand into her jeans and begins rubbing her clit.

Into the phone, she says (groans, really): “Of course.”


Uhm. Well, yay for my first TVD fic in like six months? Of course it's gotta be girlsmut. XD *laughs* Oh well, I hope someone enjoyed!
Tags: carolinexrebekah, klausxcaroline, klausxrebekah, rebekahxcaroline, the vampire diaries, tylerxcaroline

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