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![]() Caroline Forbes (23) former miss mystic falls. likes her bourbon neat. determined, loyal, and will plan the best date you've ever had. |
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![]() Caroline Forbes (23) former miss mystic falls. likes her bourbon neat. determined, loyal, and will plan the best date you've ever had. |
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<33 youuuuu
caroline feels the pull, the want to know him better in every sense. there's a mystery about him, there's something hidden beneath the surface of him that she wants to find, suss out as she'd said. it's in her nature to do so. and yet, there's something ultimately refreshing about the way he looks at her, with a hunger and fascination she recognizes, that has none of the pressure or depth that klaus's gaze does.
she smiles at him, keeping close, hovering on the edge of acting reckless.] I could say that I can do that whole tie a knot with a cheery stem but honestly, cliche.[ her grin widens as she reaches up to fasten one of the buttons of his vest before it slipped out of its hole.] I can sing. I was a the captain of the cheerleading squad in high school so I'm pretty good with pom-poms. I'm also an excellent dancer and throw one hell of a party. What about you, Dyson? What are you good at?
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let's face it: Dyson doesn't mind giving his mind to leave to wander when it comes to what she might be capable of doing with her tongue. that, coupled with her straying so close to what he'd been imagining only moments ago makes him swallow hard. if they're not careful, they're not going to make it through the remainder of the date because she's in his space as much as he's lingering in hers. Caroline's doing things to his ego by making him think she has that same spark of desire that he feels for her.
in an attempt to tame any impulse to jump the gun, he takes his beer in his far hand and turns to face the other tables ( possibly the dance floor, depending on where they're positioned. ) it would put some distance between them if he didn't set his arm on the counter top in front of her and lean back into the bar somewhat. ] Let's see.. I could give you a run for your money in a game of pool. I'm an exceptional tracker. I can hold my own in a boxing ring and while I'm no professional at dancing, I don't exactly have two left feet either. But that last part's more to match your tastes than my own.
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it's just hard when your partner is so good at flirting. the way he speaks, even just the timbre of his voice is alluring, draws her in. makes her want to listen to talk about anything. however, she finds she mourns the loss of their direct eye contact as he turns to look outward, towards the club. maybe she should be grateful for the slight reprieve but...
she smiles a little wider with each thing he lists, especially the last bit.] I have no doubt you can cut a rug, [ she teases, taking another sip of her drink to parch her sudden thirst. desire manifests itself differently in a vampire. sure, she wants in all the normal ways, her body reacts, her heart races, her skin feels something like heat. but it also makes her gums each, there's an ache in the veins beneath her eyes as they demand to make themselves known. she fights both of these urges, although she's not quite as good at it as she used to be, before she turned off her emotions.
she hides it well now, her expression is measured and remains the same, her lips quirk at the corners into a teasing smile.] I have no idea if this place has a pool table and I'm pretty sure it doesn't have a boxing ring or else I'd ask you to show off.
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Is that so? [ his chuckle is like an outburst he can't control, pulled from him because she makes him feel light and joyous in ways he hasn't in awhile. ] If there isn't a boxing ring in the city somewhere, I'd be surprised. I bought a gym back home and more or less re-purposed it into a living space. I kept the ring, though. I could do it again. [ he downs the last of his beer and discards it on the bar but it leaves him feeling more forward than he probably should be. ]
As for your first concern, if we found a pool table, I wouldn't exactly have any intention of using it for pool. [ Dyson isn't backing down when he says that even if it makes him feel flushed. there's a very real risk that Caroline will storm off. it's an offensive implication if he's reading into the what's passing between them all wrong, likely even if he isn't. if he's learned anything in his centuries of life, it's that the chance not taken is the one that's always followed by regret, not the other way around. putting a fraction of space between them hasn't lessened his curiosity or his desire at all, which is why he won't stop gazing at her until she figures out what she wants to do now that the ball's in her court. ]
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or maybe it's not that complicated, maybe she's just a girl attracted to a guy.]
I'm pretty sure there's at least one gym here. Not sure how thrilled they'd be if you tried to live there though.
[ however, the discussion of gyms and living in them is immediately tabled for another time when dyson goes and says what he does. her eyes meet with his, her eyebrows perking in a way that might concern him but it's the way her lips curl into something like impish, tickled amusement that should put his worries at ease. and if that isn't enough, the heat that flashes in her gaze should be.
she shifts forward, just an inch or two, her hand moving to rest on his chest, just as he imagined it might, fingers curling ever-so-slightly against the fabric of his vest.] I know you said I should respect the classics but I think if I make a joke about balls, I'm crossing a line of cliche-ness I'll never get back from. [ her teeth drag over her bottom lip for a moment, sort of giving him a quick once over before she looks up at him.]
And if there isn't a pool table? What then?
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One step at a time, [ he informs her understandingly. ] I'll guide you back to the land of respectable jokes, if you find you simply can't resist.
[ Dyson pushes away from the bar, stops leaning against it so that he can step directly in front of her at full height. she has every invitation to keep her hands on him, to touch and take and taste as she likes — if she wants to — and he can't have her thinking now that she's called him out that he can't live up to the hype. all things being equal, his hands should probably be somewhere harmless, like cupping her cheek or tucking her hair behind her ear. but he doesn't want to behave, nor is he interested in playing it safe.
if she doesn't stop him, he's going to slide his arm around the small of her back and place his hand square in the middle of it to drag her closer to him. he wants to kiss her but he's not willing to sacrifice the momentum of their conversation, not yet, even as he's watching her mouth pretty intently. ] Then I'd refer to a time-honored tradition and ask: your place or mine?
Unless you'd rather be dancing.
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yes, there's a thrill about a good chase but caroline actually likes the catching, she likes what happens after the chase is over. she's been chased and done the chasing one time too many, it was deeply satisfying to just get to the point. and a different sort of thrill runs up her spine as he moves to pull her closer to him, their bodies almost pressed completely flush.
she hasn't even finished her drink and she suddenly feels drunk, her body buzzes at being this close to him, in a way that would probably alarm anyone else but caroline was used to the way her body seemed to go from zero to sixty when it came to just about any emotion, especially desire.
there's no reason to deny either of them this, not when she wants it, not when he clearly does too. so she grins up at him. ] Guess it depends on how close yours is. [ she wasn't afraid to go back to his place, even though they'd only just met. the perk of being what she is, she doesn't exactly need to worry about safety, if he tries anything funky, she has the strength and ability to defend herself, not that she worries. while she doesn't mind going to hers, she knows that if she goes to his, she won't have to have the awkward encounter of trying to kick him after.
you have to earn the overnight.]
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it. that's the exciting part, more so than the hunt itself.
for as long as he can remember, he's either run from love or run towards it relentlessly with very little room for anything else. he's tired of running, thought he gave it up another lifetime ago. he knows that he can and will wait as many centuries as it takes for Bo to decide to give him a chance again but right now isn't about her. she's not the one here with him—openly proclaiming that she's on board with this, with him. it's uncomplicated. ( and while Dyson knows every bit of suffering is worth it in the long run, he just wants someone that wants him ( and nobody else ) back for a few hours. ) ]
About fifteen minutes away, ten if you walk fast.
[ it isn't overly romantic food for thought but it's the truth like she asked of him. she seems as fine as he is with a lack of sugar coating it. maybe they could have stayed at the bar going back and forth with each other and getting intoxicated all night but Dyson's okay with the alternative and everything it entails. like tracing her cheekbone with his thumb gently to prove he can be subtle, right before he leans in to kiss her. it isn't long-lived because they're literally against the bar and drawing some eyes but it's a taste. it doesn't satisfy him, if anything it only adds fuel to the fire. ]
Still interested?
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her impulse control has been questionable lately, a symptom of having none and feeling the pleasure that comes with it. but she's in control right now, at least she was right up until he touches her. her eyes flutter and she feels a surge of anticipation as he leans forward, her lips curving slightly before their mouths meet.]
Oh, I can walk very fast. [ which is her way of saying, yes, she's very interested. she leans up to kiss him again, softly with a touch of heat behind it as her hands work between them, pulling out her wallet from her purse.]
However, drinks are on me-- [ she says with a smirk, turning to down the rest of hers and press money on the bar to pay for them both. it's the least she can do for someone new to the neighborhood after all.
turning back to him, she reaches for his arm slipping her own through it.] Lead the way.
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Dyson guides her along with their linked arms, pushing through the crowd in what he hopes is a route that takes the least amount of time. ]
I'm sure between the two of us, we can come up with some way for me to repay you. [ he's grateful for her kindness but he'd much rather show her his gratitude than tell her about it ( and he plans to. ) first, they have to get back to his place. he'd hold the front entrance's door for her if there wasn't already someone handling that and being paid to do it. ]
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she pays for the drinks because she can, because she's been here for over a year and has the extra money in her pockets. she doesn't think he's the sort that it would wound his pride overly much. and if it does, she'll make it up to him.
he guides them towards the exit and she keeps step with him, smirking a little at the idea of him "repaying" her.] I'm very flexible. [ now if she meant in her attitudes or actual physicality, she'd let him figure that out soon enough as she moves eagerly towards the door and outside into the cool night air.]
But I'm pretty sure we can think of a few things.
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actually, is it cold? he can't tell because the light breeze does nothing for the heat building inside of him, fanned hotter by her comment. he's sure the imagery that leaves him with is intentional on her part, whether she'd admit it or not. ]
I hope so, [ he answers with no indication of which part he's replying to. ] Otherwise, I'd be in your debt indefinitely.
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she does move a little closer to him, to keep herself warm, to encourage his eagerness.] I have a feeling we have all night to figure out a way to even things out.
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his apartment is only around the corner now and so once he leads her across the street, he makes a vague nod in the direction they're headed. ] It's right up here.
[ he's already patting his pockets down with his free hand, trying to fish out his keys prematurely. ]
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he guides her to his place and as he digs around for his keys, she gives him the space to do it, walking as directed towards the building he'd nodded towards. ] Nice location.
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[ but as mentioned, Dyson's sense of what a living space differs greatly from most people. he likes open spaces. he likes to be somewhat out of the way and he doesn't need much inside of his home, other than the basics. he imagines that she's not that concerned with it herself, that she's only making conversation. ] It's hard to imagine any place here being on the bad side of town.
[ there's only two keys on his ring so he makes extremely quick work of separating the correct one and getting them right to the front door. once it's unlocked, he pushes it open for her and extends his open arm to gesture for her to go first. ] Please, after you.
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she's bold and fearless, she can be that way as a vampire but even as she steps through the door of his apartment, she feels the normal surge of nerves, animal instincts(?) kicking in as she enters. she looks out at the layout of the apartment, it's the standard setup and her fight or flight instinct is gone as fast as it flared up.
glancing at him as she moves forward a few steps and turns to face, walking backward two more steps, hands folded behind her back. she smiles flirtatiously--] No kinky sex dungeon, that's good.
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her assessment makes him laugh for several reasons. one, she's so honest. she puts it out there. she isn't afraid to be blunt or to say the wrong thing and two, her word choice. okay, three, the way she's smiling at him doesn't hurt. he pushes the door shut behind them and tosses his keys on the coffee table without sparing much of a glance towards them. he has eyes for only Caroline again and he takes one step towards her for the two she takes back. his strides are longer than hers and it puts them much closer together but he leaves a small gap, in case she gets cold feet. ]
I wouldn't be so hasty. You've only seen the living room. [ he doesn't skip a beat, too unwilling to give her a reason to doubt him. ] Don't worry, bondage and flogging aren't really my thing.
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[ her hand lifts to trace idly along the buttons of his vest, her eyes focusing on them for a moment as a playful smile quirks the corners of her lips. yeah, she's not afraid of putting things out there. nor is she too nervous to ask--]
So what do you like, Dyson?
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Passion. [ hands down, always with passion. ] I like not being able to keep our hands off of each other because we can't help ourselves. I like being wild and being consumed by the moment completely. [ who doesn't though? Dyson realizes she probably wants something less than the vague to run with, something to match her own interests. he slips his arms through hers, runs his palms down her back and while he can't exactly tug her closer and tell her come here and find out, he can still press her against him and hold her. ] I like when a woman knows what she wants. I like kissing, I like biting, I like being held down.
[ he's not afraid to make another move now that they're here but as much as he's glancing as her mouth, he's slightly more intrigued by hearing what she's into. ] Tell me what you enjoy, Caroline, or tell me to hurry up and find out. Say the word.
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she's definitely that. she takes note of the rest, tucking it in her memory to use later. she likes those things too. her smirk remains as he asks her to answer the same thing or tell him to get moving. and her hands are already smoothing down to his sides, gripping as she arches up and puts her mouth a few inches from his.]
You covered about half of it already... I think you should "hurry up and find out" the rest. Now.
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Dyson kisses Caroline without the same gentleness as before because he isn't in the same manner of control; there's passion, yes, but also a little possessiveness that he hopes won't rub off on either of them in the morning. but he can't be bothered to worry about it now, when he's chasing the taste of her and surrounded by her scent — intoxicated by it actually. any other time with less raw energy rushing between them like this, he might kiss her all night. slow and infuriating until they're both ready to lose their minds. he doesn't have the patience right now, only impulses. he drags his mouth away from hers to lean down and plants kisses against the side of her neck. one, two, three. he's trying to find her sweet spots, trying to see if the beard's a deal breaker for her or just the right kind of sensation coupled with his lips that might make her shiver. that, and he's pushing his hands back up her sides to her shoulders in an attempt to get her out of that jacket.
she's fashionable but she's going to look better naked. ]
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his instincts are good. very good. because the moment his mouth works along the pale skin of her neck, he draws a moan from her, soft and fluttering. her fingers move to grab at his hips, tugging him closer as he does the same thing. if he likes bossy, he's going to get it. because after she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it fall to the floor, she moves to push him against the nearest surface/wall, deft fingers working on the buttons of his vest.
she'll moan again the moment his lips find her pulse point. whether it's something she's always thought was hot or it's a vampire thing, she can't really remember anymore. but it only makes her more desperate to get him naked and she'll succeed in getting that vest off in less than a minute before she's already going for the shirt underneath. she doesn't care if this first time is heated, frenzied or frantic. she just feels her own wave of eagerness and hunger crash over her.]
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once that's settled, he doesn't give her much time to enjoy looking at him because he's preoccupied with pulling her flush against him again, with his hands on the backs of her thighs, raising her up slightly so he can kiss the swells of her breasts. he should be pulling down the zipper on the back of her dress and getting her out of her skin tight dress but it seems almost more satisfying to ease his grip on her, to let her sink back to her feet. he's not pushing her away but he is meeting Caroline's gaze when his thumbs brush the hem of her yellow dress upwards, over her thighs if she doesn't stop him. he doesn't want to destroy her dress, after all, but he's pretty okay with ruining her panties. ]
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all's fair in love and war she might say later, when she has a chance to catch her breath. her panties are not a concern for her at all, not right now. after all, he'd so willingly destroyed his own shirt for the sake of speed. her hands leave his chest for a moment, still lost in the heat his mouth coaxes from her skin, moving to help tug her dress up her thighs, hitching it upward. if she thought he could, she'd tell him to rip the dress off of her, like some dime store smut novel instead, she murmurs just by his ear--] Do it. [ she doesn't care what it is, but she's coaxing him into action, whatever he's aiming to do, she wants him to do it.]
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