Abridged summaries: As you can see, this is me giving into peer pressure.
1. Sequel to "Dance" (last chapter). One and a half year time jump. Smut at the end.
2. Sequel to "Extra Credit" (last chapter). Completely pointless smut.
Enjoy!
-Angie

As requestion by wanderlust-in-nyc and deb-lcb. Sequel to "Dance"

He balanced the bag of take-out boxes under his arm as he tried not to drop the overstuffed plastic bag while he fumbled with the apartment key.

He'd brought three boxes of tissues, Nyquil, and canned soup (her cooking skills weren't exactly impressive anyway, but while she was sick with the flu he wouldn't be surprised if she set the apartment building on fire by accident), and he tried not to grimace as he heard the wet coughs coming out of her bedroom.

He set his purchases on the table and took a box of tissues, carrying it with him to her bedroom and setting it beside her on the table.

"Thanks," she said tiredly, grabbing a tissue immediately to dab at her nose.

"Of course, love."

He pulled the wastebasket closer to her bed so that she could more easily toss the tissues inside.

"Are you hungry?"

She shook her head. "No. To be honest, just the idea of food makes me want to hurl."

"Well, in any case, I brought wonton soup from that place down the street, and there's some canned soup in the kitchen as well. If you're hungry later you can heat it up."

"Okay. So, I have bad news," she said, sniffling her 'n's out like 'd's.

"What's that?"

"Alaric called and told me that if I miss another day of work he has to fire me."

"Has to?" Klaus asked, raising an eyebrow.

She sighed, making her cough. She didn't speak until she caught her breath. "Well, I get it, to be honest. We're understaffed anyway, and it's a family owned place. They don't have the budget to keep me when I've missed so much work in such a short amount of time."

He grimaced. "I suppose."

"I probably won't be better for another week, too."

"We can cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, you can't go into work."

Her shoulders slumped. "Yeah, I know."

He stroked her hair as she leaned back into her pillows, and she smiled slightly, closing her eyes. "You're going to get sick."

"Doubtful, but Marcel can cover for me if I do. He's been asking for more hours anyway."

She made a quiet humming sound, and he knew that she was falling asleep. He waited until he heard her breathing even before leaving her room, sinking down on the couch in the living room and pulling out his phone.

They had a waitress that was leaving soon (something about moving to New Orleans to work on a family farm for a harvest-to be honest, he hadn't been paying all that much attention), and he could easily get Caroline a job.

Of course, he wasn't sure she would appreciate the gesture-she had an annoying habit of thinking that anything he gave her was charity, no matter how well-intentioned-but he hoped that she'd see the sense in it.

He wouldn't be handing her anything. She'd have to work hard, and her payment would be mostly in tips anyway. And, though he loathed to admit it, it would hurt him more than it hurt her.

He should really think about changing the uniform for the waitresses at the club.

"Hey, mate. Jane-Anne is leaving at the end of this week, correct?"

"Yeah. There have already been two applicants."

"Caroline lost her job."

"She won't like the idea," Stefan said, immediately catching his line of thought, and Klaus grimaced.

"I know."

"She'll think it's charity."

"That's unfortunate," Klaus said dryly.

"Well, you should talk to her about it before I cancel the interviews."

"I'll talk to her by Thursday."

"Let me know. Are you coming in tonight?"

Klaus glanced at Caroline's bedroom door, where he could still hear her light snores. She sounded a lot better than she had the past few days. "I'll have to check on her during my half-hour break."

"You are the boss, you know. You don't really have to check with me."

Klaus chuckled. "Just being polite, mate."

–

"No. I already let you give me this stupid job, I'm not letting you give me more special treatment and change the uniform because you don't want other people to see me in it."

"Would you believe me if I told you that I'm changing it because Cami and Davina have been asking to have it changed for over a year?"

"No."

He grimaced, looking her up and down while she continued speaking.

"-And it's not even that provocative. I don't know what your deal is."

"Those shorts barely cover your arse, and the shirt has a short enough hemline that it'll show your navel when you carry trays. Walking around like that for six hours–"

He trailed off when he saw the look on her face.

"You'll be there the entire time, so it won't get crazy. But yeah, walking around in this for six hours seems pretty tiring. I'll probably want to wipe out as soon as I get home."

"Is this your payback for convincing you to work for me, love? Parading around like that for hours and then coming home with me just to go straight to bed?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Screwing my boss in my work clothes sounds a bit inappropriate to me."

"I'm not your boss, I'm your boyfriend."

"We've been over this. As soon as I clock in, you're my boss. No special treatment."

He checked the clock above his desk and smirked at her, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of her shorts and pulling her towards him. "You're not on the clock yet," he said quietly, dropping a hot open-mouthed kiss on her neck, making her moan. "And I think that I'll need something to tide me over before I watch you flirt with customers for six hours right in front of me."

She pulled away and gave him a look of wide eyed innocence that didn't fool him for a second. "Me? Flirt with other men?"

He snorted, letting his hands move down to grip her ass and give it a firm squeeze. "I have accepted long ago that other men find you attractive, and that you don't mind the attention. As I have always said, as long as you're in my bed and screaming my name at night, I honestly couldn't care less if other men want you, especially since I can't blame them one bit. That doesn't mean that I enjoy watching it, however."

"He says to me after I've had to endure Clingy-Cami for a year and a half," Caroline mumbled.

He fought down a smile. "Clingy-Cami?"

"Well, originally it was 'Clamping-Cami,' but it was too much of a tongue-twister."

"And who came up with this?"

She gave him a raised eyebrow and he sighed. "Katerina, of course."

She shrugged. "Hey, if the shoe fits..." she started, before letting out a squeak as he attacked her lips with his, lifting her up by the ass to wrap her legs around his waist, carrying her over to the desk and setting her on top. She gripped his shirt as she kissed him back enthusiastically, rubbing her covered center against the bulge in his jeans. He bucked against her, groaning when she pushed him away slightly, licking her lips lightly and glancing at the clock. "I have work in about thirty seconds. Sorry," she said, pecking him on the lips and slipping off his desk.

He grabbed her wrist and tugged her back to him, ignoring her playful glare and bit her ear lightly before mumbling, "Come here during your break."

"Nope," she said cheerfully, pulling away. "That would be unprofessional. Anyway, I have to go. My boss isn't exactly a hard-ass, but I'll still feel bad if I'm late."

She was out of his office before he could say another word.

She was trying to kill him.

He watched her bend down unnecessarily low to wipe down a table for what must have been the tenth time during her shift, letting the customer get an eyeful of her cleavage. His booth off to the side where he was fiddling with his soundboard gave him a good view of the club, and he'd been trying to keep an eye on her through the mass of gyrating bodies moving on the dance floor, but often lost sight of her.

It wasn't that he didn't trust her or thought that she couldn't handle herself, he just liked watching her. She could probably make watching paint dry interesting.

She caught his eye again as she stood up from the table, sending him a quick wink, before sauntering off in the direction of the bar, adding an extra sway to her hips.

His cock hardened more with every tiny movement she made, and he began to wonder why on earth he'd thought that this was a good idea in the first place.

Midnight couldn't come fast enough, and the second Marcel had gotten there to take over the late night shift, Klaus had grabbed Caroline around the waist and threw her over his shoulder, ignoring her shouted Seriously?! and set her down on the desk in his office, positioning himself between her legs, which immediately pulled him close despite the fight she'd put up earlier.

He unbuttoned her shorts and tugged them and her panties down her legs, tossing them on the floor behind him. Kneeling in front of her now naked pussy, he nipped at the insides of her thighs to make her spread them farther, cupping her ass in his hands and pulling her core to his mouth. He swirled his tongue around her clit, making her shudder, before giving her opening a long, hard lick, causing her to moan and spread her legs a bit further. His face was instantly buried between her thighs as he eagerly lapped up her juices, groaning at the feeling of her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Yes," she rasped out, grinding her core against his mouth. "Tonguefuck me, Klaus. Just like that...Harder...Ugh, I'm so close."

He dug his fingertips into the flesh of her ass, and she rode his face, her pussy contracting under his lips, and she screamed his name, thrashing around as she came on his eager tongue.

He was almost unbearably hard now, and she tugged off her shirt and bra when he pulled away, and pushed herself off the desk, undoing his belt and jeans while he pulled off his shirt. He sank down on his office chair and she straddled him, her wet core dripping on his throbbing cock. She sank down onto him slowly, throwing her head back and moaning at the sensation, and he attached his lips to her breasts, nibbling and licking them while she rode him.

She quickly came around him a second time, his name escaping her lips in breathless pants, and he soon found his own release, muttering a few choice words under his breath.

"I like my new job," he heard her gasp out, and he smirked.

"Yes, love. I'm sure your boss is lucky to have you around."

"He'll get lucky again if my thong isn't ripped in half when I find it."

"Hey, I always buy you new ones…"

Can you do a followup drabble to the one where Klaus is Caroline's teacher? Please.

She knocked on the door to his office right after school, as usual.

"Come in."

"Hi, Mr. Mikaelson," she said, closing the door behind her and locking it.

"Caroline," he said, smiling slightly as he looked up from a spiral-bound agenda. "Sorry love, just a minute. I need to get this done."

She nodded and perched on the edge of his desk, her legs delicately crossed at the ankle, watching him quickly make some sort of note and flip it shut, putting it in a desk drawer and turning to her. "Come here," he said, though it was more affectionate than demanding.

She straddled him in his chair, giving him a soft kiss, her hands on the armrests while he cupped her ass under her dress, squeezing it firmly. He broke away to nibble on her neck, and she tilted her head to the side to let him nip and lick at her jawline, though he was always careful not to leave marks.

She moaned when he ran a finger down her wet slit, and smirked into her neck. "You're wearing nothing under your skirt."

"You told me not to, Mr. Mikaelson," she pointed out, letting out a small sigh as he pushed two fingers into her wet heat.

"Good girl, doing what you're told."

She moaned as he hooked his fingers to stroke her inner walls.

Their game had begun.

"How do you want me to take you today, Caroline?" he asked, his dark, lustful eyes boring into her.

"However it pleases you Mr. Mikaelson."

He smirked. "Good answer."

"Thank you, Mr. Mikaelson," she said, giving him a little grin before whining softly as he withdrew his fingers.

"Cheeky today, aren't we, love?"

"Sorry, Mr. Mikaelson," she said, trying very hard to sound it, though it seemed that she didn't succeed, judging by his wicked grin.

"Are you sure?"

She bit her lip and nodded.

"I'm afraid I don't believe you love."

She was silent, trying to figure out where this was going.

"I think you're lying to me," he said, though his voice sounded more playful than irritated.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mikaelson. I'm not lying."

He hummed before abruptly reaching around to grab one of her legs, causing her to squeak at the sudden movement, and carefully supporting her body while he flipped her over so that her ass was in the air over his lap.

"Good girls don't lie, Caroline," he said, his tone slightly chastising as he pushed the fabric of her dress down over her back and abdomen and stroked the creamy skin of her ass and upper thighs. "And bad girls who lie get punished."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mikaelson."

"A bit late for apologies, don't you think, love?"

She bit her lip, debating on how to answer, knowing that erring on the side of agreeing with him was generally a better strategy.

"Yes, Mr. Mikaelson."

"That'll be ten, I think."

"Ten what, Mr. Mikaelson?" she asked, though she thought she might know.

"Ten strikes. You will count each and thank me for the correction. Do you understand?"

Is this all right? she heard his underlying words.

"Yes, Mr. Mikaelson."

The first slap made her give a small shout of surprise, but she recovered quickly. "One. Thank you for correcting me, Mr. Mikaelson."

The second hit her in a different spot, but she was expecting it this time. "Two. Thank you for correcting me, Mr. Mikaelson."

The third stung. The fifth made her moan out loud. By the tenth, she was soaking wet and panting, and he ran his finger down her dripping slit. "Spread your legs for me. Good girl. Look how wet you are from that. Did you enjoy being spanked?"

There was something about the way the word rolled off his tongue that made her pussy ache, and she gasped out a, "Yes, Mr. Mikaelson," before letting out a long moan as his fingers began to move inside her.

"You're so wet from your punishment love, so tight around my fingers. Have you touched yourself since Monday?"

"No, Mr. Mikaelson," she gasped out, feeling her pussy clench around his fingers as he wound her up, bringing her closer to the edge with every movement.

"Good girl."

She felt herself clench around his fingers, gritting her teeth to prevent herself from moaning too loudly.

"You're so fucking tempting laid across my lap with your legs spread for me, love. I just want to bury my cock into your tight little pussy and make you come around me over and over. Would you like that?"

"Yes, Mr. Mikaelson," she gasped out, spreading her legs as far as possible to allow his fingers to dive into her more deeply.

He seemed to notice how close she was getting, because he withdrew. "Bend over the desk, love."

"Yes, Mr. Mikaelson."

She heard him unzip his pants and then felt his cock pressing against her folds, causing her to moan. He groaned as he entered her, and she clenched around him. "I love seeing you bent over my desk like this, with your arse bright red from my hand. You feel so good and tight around my cock, love."

She was panting, trying not to moan too loudly. "Please, Mr. Mikaelson..."

"Please, what?"

"I just...please make me come, Mr. Mikaelson."

"Tell me what you want."

"Please, Mr. Mikaelson, I want your cock slamming into me hard and fast, I want to hear your balls slapping against me and I want you to paint my red ass with your come," she panted out, trying to capitalize on all the little things she'd noticed that he liked, and honestly, if he could just get her over the fucking edge she'd do whatever he wanted.

"Naughty girl," he muttered roughly under his breath, doing as she'd asked and fucking her harder. "Telling me all those filthy things out of your pretty little mouth. Spreading your legs like a wanton little slut for me."

Christ.

Getting called a slut when being fucked from behind had never exactly been number one on her list of sexual kinks, but it had made her come harder than she ever had before in her life, and she grit her teeth to keep from screaming his name.

He mumbled hers though, the syllables spilling out of his lips in a low whisper as he did as she asked and came on her ass. She stood, wincing at the movement, and he gave her a sharp look, though she could tell that it was more concerned than anything.

"Was I too harsh?"

"No, it's just…"

"Sore?" he asked, his lips quirking.

She nodded.

"But I like it," she added immediately, and he gave her a confused look.

"Caroline, you don't have to lie–"

"No, really, I do."

There was something oddly stimulating about walking around with a bright red ass that no one could see, and she told him so, adding, "And plus, now when I have trouble sitting still in class–"

He shook his head quickly. "I won't be able to look at you for the next week without getting hard if you finish that sentence."

She sent him a mischievous grin and pecked him on the lips. "Monday?" she asked, pausing with her hand on the doorknob.

"Monday," he agreed. "And unscented lotion will help. If you change your mind."

"I won't."

She closed the office door behind her.

A/N: Aaaand that happened.
Obviously I'm not going in order anymore, and I have about 30 to do (not kidding), but you're still welcome to request more at thetourguidebarbie on tumblr.
Hugs!
-Angie