Like a cockroach, Always Survives

167. Tyler Lockwood | The Brothers aren't Happy

Tumblr : starshipsofstarlord

hi, can you do one with tyler lockwood? the reader and him are secretly dating and the reader is the salvatores sister, and one day damon and stefan show up to tyler's house looking for his help but instead they find tyler and the reader making out

*

Summary: based on the request

Pairing: Tyler Lockwood x Salvatore reader

Warnings: making out, unhappy Stefan and Damon, mentions of sex, abbreviations to sex, mentions and threats of murder, overprotective brothers, too many dog jokes, mention of an erection, mention of blood feeding

Word Count: 2478

*

Prolonged through the autumnal air, the scratching of crickets echoed; Tyler could hear each individual leg cocking itself in a means of itching its hindquarters, but the noises of nature were the last thing on his mind this very evening. It was special, and for the first time since he had taken a life, excluding the heightened senses that attained to his focus, he felt absurdly normal. It was as a strange feeling after so long concocting the idea that he were nothing more than a violent beast outside of a cage, that was hiding in a skin suit of a terribly familiar human, as though he were some kind of lurking demon of which prowled for a purpose, and it was beneath him as he pinned his victims's hands to the mattress. But if anything was clear in the peepers that you wore, was that he was no menace. Tyler Lockwood was simply unfortunate when it came down to circumstance, as you and Damon had been due to Stefan's exempt selfishness of not wanting to be alone for eternity.

That was one thing that Tyler was mistaken for - being selfish. Though he was in fact a polar to that; he was substantially caring, and he would risk anything to protect those that he loved. And you were one of them, to the dismay and lack of knowledge to many others in Mystic Falls. The evidence was in the mist of being created as the weight of Tyler's body pressed against your own? And each of your lips battled for an intimate dominance. His hands were adventurous, curling around the curve of your waist, causing your breath to hitch as all average thoughts left your mind, abandoning you to be in a secure haven, of which was free of all troubles. Your fingers dragged through the short strands of his dark locks once they had escaped from his iron grip, as your eyes fluttered beneath their lids, your hums exhibiting a state of content from the courage of Tyler's tongue that was prompting at the passage of your lips, and thus you permitted him entry; he swallowed each sound that your body attempted to compose, rendering your body useless against him.

One bite, that was all that it would take to defile you with the sentence of certain death. There were toxins bore into his teeth, ones of which would undermine your chances of survival as a fellow predator, a vampire. It was a strange coupling, someone like you and someone like him. A blood sucker and a servant that suffered beneath the fullness of the orb that was the moon. The intimate conjunction was a frigid secret, between only the two of you, it made the rousing prodigal of pleasure that you also shared spark in height, rising as high as Mount Olympus, crashing down when the climax was unforeseeably dropped down on the scales of momentous relief.

The two of you had yet to evolve your bodies into a Greek masterpiece, an example of art that would hang from a famous wall for the rest of its days. Sex was known to be one of the most perfect substitutes for supplies, such as transgressive colanders of paint or brushes that had the ability to create texture with each individual stroke. In their placement, was a flurry of uncontrolled limbs, scavenging for the closest of close contact that life could supply. Like a wolf, before it's seasonal ritual of mating, Tyler was foraging through the labours of his prey, digesting every last whimper that trembled out of your vulnerable form. Each tug at condiments of fast healing flesh had you keening for more, and as an almost two hundred year old vampire, you were compelled by your self assuring nature to serve your desires on a silver platter, right before your very own blood thirsty eyes. Though silver may have been the incorrect composition of design, for it would riddle your lover's flesh with digressive burns, and make all whom believed that chivalry was dead commence in a substitute of wordless victory.