gooddame asked; "I'm the English lit teacher and no one must know that I write fanfiction of my own students and publish them online so I'm TERRIFIED when I learn that you - the art teacher - know about everything but turns out you make fanart for them and turns out we're both fans of each other's work online do you wanna work together and hook these guys up"

so, it's not their students but just a fictional character, meaning they obviously don't try to hook them up so i hope that's okay! also, smut so NSFW. hope you all enjoy this. also, if you're on tumblr, go spread love to gooddame, i know she's been feeling down lately!

- shauna! xo

Caroline doesn't think she's hated someone quite as much as Klaus Mikaelson before. But she does. God, does she hate him with a passion.

He's arrogant, self centred.

Not to mention, hot, which was probably the worse one of all.

Ugh. Why were all the hot ones always gigantic asses?

Just her luck, too.

"Caroline."

She hums, presses her lips together and maybe if she'd ignore him, he'd go away?

She hears a chuckle as she pressed her phone tighten in her hands, bringing it closer to her eyes to shield it and herself from his scrutinizing gaze when it was suddenly pulled away from her and she narrows her eyes, in anger, when she looks up to find nobody else but Mr Mikaelson looming over her.

She immediately goes for her phone, hands reaching out incessantly and growling under her breath when it isn't returned to her.

"Mr Mikaelson-"

He snorts, eyes finding hers with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, Mr Mikaelson, is it now?"

She glares at him, fire building behind her cool blues and she pushes firmly on his chest until he releases her and she gets up.

"It's always been Mr Mikaelson, considering that's your name," she tells him shortly before she reaches for his wrists. "Now, give me."

He ignores the last bit, makes a sound of disapproval in his throat.

"Not precisely true. Now is it, sweetheart?"

"Klaus," she warns, eyes darting around the room of teachers who are all watching with amused expressions on their faces.

He sighs dramatically, head popping to the side and then her phone is dropped back into her hand and when she looks up at his face in confusion, all she gets is an arrogant smirk back down at her and she's suddenly remembering why she hates him so much and why this, everything, is such a bad idea.

"There," he smirks. "That wasn't so hard. Now was it, love?"

She's still glaring even as she firmly pockets her phone in her black, work trousers.

"Torture," she tells him dryly, and then, "Now if you'd excuse me," she gestures past him but all she gets is a dimpled smirk and she glares harder, "Klaus!"

He hums, a low sound in the back of his throat and Caroline looks around the room, once more pointedly when he reaches forward to curl a finger around one of her blonde curls and gives it a soft tug. She slaps his hand away from her, purely on instinct and then he grins.

"I suppose I can release you. For now," he adds.

She snarls.

"Not yours to release," she grits out between clenched teeth. "I am not one of your students, Klaus."

He grins wider.

"So you do remember my name. I was wondering if I'd not told you enough times."

Caroline's teeth come together with an audible snap.

"Goodbye," she tells him, tightly, brushing past him. "I have a class to teach."

She gets an infuriating chuckle behind her as she reaches for the door.

"Don't you worry, love. I'll be seeing you later."

She's growling under her breath as she opens the door and her head twists around to face him.

(He was lucky she didn't have a free here when he did.)

"Not your love," she tells him, for what felt like the millionth time.

He merely flicks his tongue against his front teeth and gives her a smile that borderlines on being predatory.

"We'll see," he returns.

(He always does.)

(She still, hates him though, with a burning passion - she just prefers to bang his brains out, at least then he can't think enough to want to speak. That's when it went wrong, when he spoke. If he could just remain silent in her presence, it wouldn't be all that bad. He wasn't too bad to look at, after all.)

-/-

It had happened once, after a work party, that she'd been roped into attending. She'd been dancing with Elena, the maths teacher, and in his arms the next, her head flung backwards in laughter but then he'd looked at her, eyes full of mischief and lust and really, it was a crime that she didn't jump his bones there and there.

But, she did go home with him.

Rules were rules, after all, and she was quite sure she wasn't supposed to be involved with another teacher.

(She left when he was asleep.)

(He was nothing more than a one night stand, after all, why should she stay?)

(But, alas, she was wrong - they weren't anything, though, not even friends, she'd swear by it. She hated him too much.)

The next time it happened, she was actually in a coffee shop, sometime after her latest class, her phone clutched tightly in her hand as her eyes closely followed the page she was reading and really, it wasn't her fault she was so into it, that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her. She didn't even hear the scraping of a chair as somebody sat next to her, an amused chuckle escaping them, and she only placed her phone down onto the table when she was done with the chapter.

She hummed as she took a sip from her coffee and she practically jumped three feet into the air when she looked up because who else, than Klaus Mikaelson was sitting across from her.

"What the hell?" she hissed, angrily, when she figured out that she (thankfully) hadn't dropped any of her coffee, releasing a breath of relief as she situated herself in the chair. "What the hell are you doing here, you stalker!"

He merely shot her an amused glance as he raised an eyebrow.

"Fanfiction, love?" he grins and she pales slightly before she feels her cheeks burn, a blush overtaking her. "Didn't really take you for the type," he continues, "But then again, you always were a mystery, a challenge. Every time I think I have you figured out, you do the opposite and surprise me, once again."

His tone is soft as his eyes find hers and her eyes are wide, mouth parting in shock as she listens to him talk.

"Maybe, I'm not the person everyone thinks I am," she tells him, softly.

The look he gives her back sends a chill a long her spine before he shrugs.

"Who is?"

Then, he has a wicked smirk on his face.

"Already read that one," he tells her, tone casual. "Don't get too into it, love," he warns, "Emma dies."

She chokes on her drink, spluttering slightly.

"WHAT?"

He's still smirking as she recovers.

"Klaus!" She warns, "Warn a girl if you're going to tell spoilers. I've been wanting to read that one for forever!"

He shrugs, humming happily and she eyes him carefully.

"You've read that one?"

This time, he's the one blushing but he shoves it off with a shrug.

"You're not the only one who isn't the person everyone believes them to be," he reminds her.

She wants to use this opportunity to tease him as he mercilessly teases her, but finds she can't really say much, unless she wants to apply it to herself so her mouth closes, teeth snapping together. She thinks it over as she looks at him and then it all comes together, when she thinks of something.

"Oh my god," she gasps. "You make fanart!"

She doesn't know how she realises it but she does but, uhm, hello, art teacher over there who was ridiculously good. Of course, he did art for it if he followed the fandom.

She watches as he wriggles in his seat and she grins, biting her lip.

"Don't worry," she tells him. "I won't tell anyone."

He nods, "Likewise."

"But," She raises an eyebrow.

He rolls his eyes.

"You want something, why am I not surprised?"

"I want you to make a fan art for me, my story," she requests, or demands, quite bluntly.

His eyes widen a fraction.

"You write?"

She merely grins and with a shake of her head, she gestures to the door.

"Come on," she tells him, pleading slightly. "I'll show you."

(And boy does she.)

-/-

She gives him her iPad when they arrive back to her house, and she shrugs under his careful gaze as he reads, biting her lip in contemplation and when his head suddenly snaps up, lust echoing in them, he immediately has her attention and really, it shouldn't be a surprise to anyone that he's meeting her in the middle, desperate for her lips.

He pounces on her, knocking her to the floor in her living room, as he sucks against her bottom lip, teeth grazing slightly as he wills her to open for him and when she does, he immediately presses firmer against her, his tongue darting into her mouth as his hands work against sliding up her thin, tank top.

His tongue twirls around hers, practising a dance they've long since perfected and she groans as his cool, callous hands reach her bra strap but, then, he's pulling away all together.

"Off," he demands, suddenly, reaching back to settle on his knees. "Get it all off. I want you to strip for me."

So, she does, her eyes on his as she gets onto her knees herself, her hands reaching for her top and removing it slowly, her hips shaking as she reaches for the clapse on the back of her bra, and raising to her feet before she can take her jeans off, watching as Klaus' eyes are preoccupied with her chest and she crooks a finger, in welcome, as she takes a step back.

"I think my room's a more suitable place for this don't you think?"

She wiggles out of her jeans, first, and her panties and she knows he's staring at her ass as she walks away.

She doesn't watch, she knows he'll follow and she's right, she realises, as she shrieks when he runs after her, hand frantically reaching for her legs to wrap them around her waist.

"No," he says, voice a low growl as she pushes her back against the wall. "Here will do quite nicely."

She's not one to argue as they both work to quickly digest him of his dark henley. She reaches forward, hands frantic as she reaches for his belt and she swears she hears it snap as she manages to shove his jeans far enough down his legs to free him and she smirks against his lips.

"Commando?"

His teeth catch her lip, which he soothes over with a flick of his tongue before one arm wraps around her waist, to hold her up, and the other pushes her hand away and he's pushing into her with one hard, thrust and her head is flying back against the wall.

She feels his chuckle vibrate against her neck as he lays a row of kisses there.

"I'd explain, love, but it's nothing you haven't seen before."

He's slow in his movements, pulling out slow and then pushing back in a torturous pace and she hisses, her head snapping up as she reaches forward. Her hand reaches for his hair, gripping the strands tightly in her fingers and she watches as his eyelashes flutter.

"This is great and all," she says, slightly breathless and watches his eyes dark and she was quite sure he had a thing for when she took control. "But I'm gonna need you to fuck me. Hard."

"Patience," he tells her, voice strained.

She growls.

"Fuck patience! I need you, Klaus. I need it. Hard and rough." And then because he looks conflicted, she flutters her eyelashes, pressing her chest out, until it's centimetres away from his lips. "Please, Klaus," she whimpers slightly, when he pushes back in and he brushes against her clit. "You can-" she breaks off slightly when he pulls out. "You can have your patience during round two."

Then, he's done for.

His mouth darts forward, reaching for her chest as his tongue wraps around a nipple and his thrusts get a lot quicker.

She lets out a long string of sighs and moans.

"Yes," she groans. "Right there."

With a few more thrusts, she's right there, teetering on the edge, and he must feel it because he's head darts up as his right hand travels to where they're joined and his thumb is rubbing against her deliciously, tracing sloppy circles on her clit and she's so done for.

"That's it," he growls, watching her face, her cheeks flustered as her mouth parts on a loud scream and her eyes flutter. "Come for me."

Her eyes find his as she clenches around him and his own cheeks are red, as he pumps in out of her tight heat.

"That's it," he repeats, thumb quick against her. "Come on, Caroline. You're so close aren't you? And I want to feel you clench around my cock. You feel so glorious, when you're about to come, sweetheart. Come on, now. Let me feel it. You're going to come for me."

(She does.)

(And he does get his patience in round two and three, mouth tortuously slow against her clit as he works her to completion but she makes it up to him the next morning, waking him up with her mouth around him, humming as his hand reaches down to tangle in her curls.)

(Maybe it wasn't a one time thing, after all.)