Notes: klarolineauweek Day Three drabbles! For AU: Adversaries. The day my plans went VERY awry. The second prompt wasn't supposed to have smut, but then it did, so I threw the first one together last minute. Hope it's still okay! Quick question: I'm considering starting a new doc and marking this one complete once we hit 50 chapters. Yay or nay? Is it easier if everything's together or does is get kind of unwieldy after awhile? Let me know if you have a preference and thanks for reading!
Have You And Grab You
(Prompt: Klaus and Caroline have younger siblings who are in the same grade. There's a class fundraiser and they're competing over who can sell the most boxes of candy. Title from 'Cherry Bomb' by The Runaways. Rated K+)
Caroline hadn't intended to spend her summer vacation helping Jeremy Gilbert sell chocolate bars. It had just kind of happened.
Okay, fine, it wasn't so much 'helping' as it was completely taking over. Was it Caroline's fault that Jeremy was a slacker with zero entrepreneurial instincts? She didn't think so. And he (and his classmates!) would totally thank her when they were staying in a nice hotel on their class trip.
That's what she told herself. But mostly she was just so very bored.
Caroline had initially been a teeny bit apprehensive about leaving Mystic Falls, scared she'd drown in the bigger pond that was Loyola University. But, much to her relief, that hadn't happened. She'd swum just fine, flourished even. Katherine, her assigned roommate, had turned out to be awesome even if she'd been scary upon first impression. Kat had a knack for finding the best parties, and was the greatest wingwoman in the history of time. She was confident, and fun and a big part of the reason Caroline had come to love New Orleans.
Caroline had embraced a bigger city, hadn't been the least bit homesick. But she'd decided to come home for the summer, had strong armed herself a paid position in the mayor's office. She'd been kind of worried about her mom, assuming that Liz Forbes barely left her office without Caroline at home to check up on.
It was probably true, and would remain true once Caroline went back to school in the fall. But, at least for the summer, Caroline could ensure that her mom got some fresh air, and interaction with humans who weren't criminals or other cops.
She'd just kind of forgotten how slow Mystic Falls was. And it was driving her insane. Caroline's work was cake (after she'd straightened out the appalling filing system) and she was done by 3 PM every day. There was literally one bar in town, and her fake I.D. wasn't going to fool people who were well aware that she wasn't 21 yet as they'd known her since she was an actual baby. And sometimes managed to forget that she wasn't anymore.
She'd fallen in with some of her old high school friends, had a good time catching up, even if things felt a little distant and weird. Elena hadn't ventured far – went to Whitmore and lived with her boyfriend (mildly scandalous since he was older, and had a less than stellar rep). But dirt didn't really stick to Elena's veneer of perfection, so other than the odd whisper no one gave her shit about it.
That renewed friendship was how she'd found out about Jeremy being a miserable failure at effective fundraising.
Elena worked at her dad's clinic, and Caroline had popped over for lunch, noted the chocolate on display and recognized it. It was the same company Mystic Falls High had always used, and Caroline had been no slouch at raising money in her day.
Caroline had asked Elena how it was going. Her first mistake. Elena had rolled her eyes, "It's not. Like at all. I think the only boxes that have been sold are people who've bought them here. And that's not a lot, since people aren't exactly dying to eat chocolate after a physical, you know?"
Something had clicked, the lure of a challenge. Caroline had tried to resist, really she had.
But Caroline never could resist a project. The first case she'd taken off of Elena's hands and brought to the Mayor's office had sold in no time, the group of workers repairing the stone façade easy prey to a pretty girl offering sweets.
The second two cases had been sold to the mayor herself, Caroline easily convincing Mrs. Lockwood that adding boxes to the place settings at a town event was a great idea. "People love chocolate!" she'd chirped. "And it's great PR, shows you support our local schools! Totally what people want to know, in an election year."
And then things snowballed. If Caroline had anything to say about it Jeremy would take the top seller crown. No matter what she had to do.
"I should have known," a familiar voice drawls, cutting into her conversation with Mrs. Reynolds.
Caroline offers the woman, her old cheer coach who handles the fundraiser, a bright smile, turning to face Klaus Mikaelson. She kept her tone sweet enough for their audience, but wished she could kill with the power of her mind. She'd almost talked her way into having the rules bent, and he'd interrupted all her careful work. "Fancy meeting you here. I'd have thought you'd rather burn the school to the ground then set foot in it again after graduation."
He takes no offense, actually agrees with her, "An accurate assessment, love. But I'm not here by choice." He hefts an envelope and nods at Mrs. Reynolds, "Rebekah and my mother have gone to Richmond for a few days. I was told to drop these off and pick up another few boxes of those chocolates so she might continue peddling them incessantly when she returns."
Mrs. Reynolds looks impressed, "She's done with the last batch already? That's incredible. A girl after your own heart, Caroline. I'll need to go grab the cases out of storage, so give me a few minutes."
She walks away briskly, leaving Klaus and Caroline alone. Which rarely ended well. Except for that one time they never spoke of. What happened in Tyler Lockwood's hallway closet during a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven stayed in Tyler Lockwood's closet.
Those were the rules. They could not be broken.
Even if Caroline had never thought the game's title more accurate then when she'd stumbled out of the closet, lips tingling and hot all over.
"Have you really nothing better to do then this?" Klaus asks curiously. "I heard you trying to wheedle more than the allotted cases out of the woman. Calling it an errand for Jeremy Gilbert. He's a friend of Kol's, you know. So I'm well aware that they're wiling their summer away with Call of Duty and weed. Kol's cravings are a big percentage of Rebekah's sales, actually. I can only logically conclude that Jeremy rising to the top of the best seller chart, which Rebekah is most displeased about, has nothing to do with any work he is putting in."
Caroline freezes, knowing she's busted. She'd totally forgotten about Klaus' insane number of siblings.
She deflates, leaning against the desk with a sigh, "Honestly? No, I really don't have anything better to do. I always thought Mystic Falls was boring but I had no idea how boring until I had something to compare it too. I miss New Orleans already even though it's only been three weeks." She winces at how pathetic she sounds, bracing herself to be mocked.
But Klaus doesn't comment on her startling lack of a life, his brows shooting up, "New Orleans? Really? Where do you go?"
"Loyola," Caroline answers. "Business program. Why?"
"Tulane. Art school," he tells her, with a grin. "Seems we're practically neighbors, sweetheart."
Caroline rolls her eyes, "We've been practically neighbors since you moved here in the 3rd grade. Don't know why it's notable now."
Klaus smirks, drifting closer, so her bare legs just brush his knees. He leans in voice lowering, "It'll be easier for you to give in to your burning attraction to me without all the prying eyes and busybodies who clutter up this town, don't you think?"
"Excuse me, but my burning attraction?" Caroline spits back indignantly. "I think you've got that the other way around, buddy. You're the one who was doing all the pigtail pulling. Always disagreeing with me in class, telling me my color schemes clashed, when they absolutely did not."
He doesn't look the least bit repentant, the ginormous ass. Klaus plants his hands on the desk, next to her hips, caging her in. "It did get your attention, didn't it? And you're lovely, when you're riled. I still think about the way you sank your teeth into my shoulder when I slipped my fingers into your knickers in that closet."
Her face heats, the memory rushing back. Because she totally thinks about it too, and how freaking pissed she'd been when they'd been interrupted before either of them could actually get off. Stupid, drunk, impatient teenagers.
Caroline clears her throat, tosses her hair back. "Maybe you could have had more to think about, if you'd stopped being a douche for five seconds and asked me out."
He pulls back, surprise coloring his features as he studies her face intently, "You'd never have agreed," he says, though there's a hint of unsureness there. "Miss Mystic Falls, Head Cheerleader, Prom Princess and me? Your friends would have thought it odd."
Caroline scoffs, "So? I was kind of over the high school hierarchy bitchery by the time we hit senior year, Klaus. There's a reason I only applied to schools out of state."
"You could have made a move too, love," Klaus points out reasonably. "It's the 21st century and you're not exactly shy. And you were clearly aware of my interest."
She could admit that he had a point. A teeny, tiny one. Maybe she'd wanted to be chased, insecure because she never seemed to be wanted like certain other girls. But being away from Mystic Falls had been good for her, in all sorts of ways. Caroline had come to realize that going after what she wanted had some serious perks.
And it didn't hurt that she was positive that rejection wasn't a possibility.
Caroline tilts her head, cups Klaus' jaw with one hand, and brushes her lips over his. It's brief, chaste, because Mrs. Reynolds could very well return at any moment. Klaus hands grip her waist, squeezing gently as she pulls away. His eyes are a little wide, and she thinks he's trying very hard not to smile. "Do you want to go out with me, Klaus?" Caroline asks.
He loses the battle, grinning at her and nodding immediately. "I do. How would you like to come to D.C. with me this weekend, love? I'm supposed to check on Elijah's apartment. He's working in London for a few months. It's not New Orleans, but it is a city. I'm sure we can find something to entertain ourselves."
Getting out of Mystic Falls sounds pretty perfect to Caroline and her mind begins racing, thinking about how she's going to spin it for her mom. "I'd love to," she agrees.
They hear footsteps in the hall, and Klaus steps back, to a slightly more respectable distance. "Perfect. May I buy you lunch when we're done here? Firm up our plans?" he asks, just a touch hopefully.
It's completely endearing and Caroline kind of wishes she'd gone for a more serious kiss. Makes a mental note to go for it before the day was through.
Feel It In My Bones
(Prompt: "I'm an agent and you're an evil mastermind and I was assigned to kill you but now you have me hostage and oh god you're hot." Klaroline AU pleaseeee. This morphed into Supervillianess!Caroline and SemiRetiredSuperhero!Klaus. I blame Klaus' dumb trucker hat on TO. Title from 'Radioactive' by Imagine Dragons. Smut.)
Klaus wakes up slowly, tongue thick and head pounding. He's never been able to get drunk; his metabolism simply doesn't allow it. The feeling is foreign, and unpleasant, and more than a bit alarming.
His eyes flutter open and the first thing he sees? Bars.
Metal as thick as his wrist, spaced six inches apart. Ordinarily such a set-up would be no problem, would bend with little effort on his part. But they're faintly glowing, as if wrapped in purple lights, and he has a sinking feeling of the source. Reaching a hesitant finger out to touch, Klaus doesn't even come close to a bar before he recoils, drawing back with a hiss. That had hurt, like being stabbed with a thousand tiny white hot needles all at once.
The pain is helpful, shoving the last of the fuzziness from his mind, allowing him to think.
Both a blessing and a curse. It's quickly apparent that Klaus is in serious trouble. That he's been abducted, by someone who knows his weaknesses and has the means to contain him. He's been lying low, gaining his bearings in a new city after all the trouble that had driven him out of the last. Has barely lifted a finger to help anyone, does not go out of his way looking for trouble to untangle.
He's slipped, once or twice, drawn by a scream or the shatter of glass. But that's only natural, an instinct. And he's getting better at fighting it.
Klaus had been completely unaware that someone had been watching him closely enough to be aware of those slips. It's sloppy, and he's ashamed. But he'll have to mentally berate himself later. Once he's out of his predicament.
He sits up, keeping a careful distance from the bars that surround him. The cage is well appointed, a thick rug and pillows strewn about, protecting him from the hard floor. There's a bottle of water that he eyes suspiciously, wishing he could guzzle it to get rid of the horrid taste in his mouth. He can see beyond the bars, to a large apartment. It's nicer then he would expect, a home not some grotty warehouse or underground lair. Klaus scans the room for any hint of his captor's identity. He has no shortage of enemies but the sparse, sleek furniture rings no bells. A wall of windows looking out at the Chicago skyline tells him that he's at least not been moved across state lines.
That was always such a hassle.
The flat appears to be empty, but focusing his senses yields a clue. Running water, several rooms away, a woman's voice singing as she lathers her hair.
Klaus' eyes widen, in recognition and growing annoyance. He pushes a faint pang of betrayal aside. He's heard that voice before, listened to it bounce around a far smaller space, through much thinner walls, in a dingy motel room when she'd showered before leaving him with a kiss and a smile.
She'd claimed her name was Caroline, but maybe that was a lie.
Klaus spots the car before he spots the woman. It's red and flashy and awkwardly fishtailed on the country backroad he's on. Out of place, but Klaus isn't one to judge. He's been wandering aimlessly for weeks, living out of a suitcase and seeing the sights. Not the traditional ones, the sort that people came to the U.S. to see. He's been poking about odd little roadside attractions, local claims to fame, so solid plan or destination. He's seen Carhenge, in Alliance, Nebraska. The Hobo Museum, in Britt, Iowa. The last had only seemed appropriate, given his current vagabond existence.
Klaus thinks he's in Illinois at the moment, though he's long since stopped paying much attention to road signs, unless he's dangerously low on gas.
He's tempted to keep driving, disillusioned with helping people who often couldn't muster up a modicum of gratitude. Because honestly, he's tried to avoid significant structural damage, in that last alien invasion, but weren't buildings and things, inanimate and repairable, secondary in importance to saving human lives?
Klaus thought so. The muckety mucks of San Francisco had disagreed. Which was why he'd left, once they'd started enhancing the blurry images people had caught of him on cell phones, asking for any information that might lead to his identity.
They couldn't keep him imprisoned, but they'd try. And Klaus would rather avoid that bit of tediousness.
He's mostly been avoiding people, had bought a terrible hat at a truck stop, wore sunglasses and stuck to small towns.
Stopping, helping, would be a step back into his old life, one he's not eager to make.
He's just about to step on it, blow past the convertible that's stranded, when he catches a glimpse of the owner. And the owner's mile long legs, revealed in a tiny pair of cut-off denim shorts as she leans against the driver's side door.
Klaus might not be strictly human, but he still had the usual human needs. And he'd been deprived of any company, for quite some time. The temptation of the luscious blonde peering over at him as he slowed his truck was far too great, his commitment to his new good deed free life wavering.
It was the right thing to do, Klaus rationalized. The road was nearly deserted, and who was to say the next person who drove passed would be on the up and up?
Pulling over, a bit ahead of her, he sweeps the hat off of his head and tosses it onto the passenger seat. No need to make an awful first impression. He slides out of his truck, and makes his way over. Slowly, trying to look friendly (not his forte) just in case she's rightfully wary of a strange man trying to play hero. "What seems to be the problem, Miss?" Klaus asks.
She doesn't seem alarmed by his presence. In fact, Klaus is fairly certain he detects a flicker of interest in the way her eyes linger on his chest. She straightens, uncrossing her arms. And it's a struggle to keep his eyes on her face, despite its genuine beauty. She's wearing a loose white tank, a deep v in the front and a hem that stops an inch or two above the waist of her shorts. It's a fair amount of tempting flesh, toned and slick from the hot summer sun, and he wants to memorize it. With his tongue.
The woman doesn't seem nervous, shoots him a wry grin, "Honestly? I have no idea. My mom insisted I know the basics – I can change a tire, and my oil, but it started making this weird grindy noise and my steering went all wonky. Smoke started coming from under the hood, so I pulled over. Was pretty impressed I didn't end up in the ditch."
Now that he's closer and looking for them, Klaus can make out tire tracks on the asphalt, evidence of her struggle. "You're lucky," he tells her. "I'm afraid I won't be much help, mechanically speaking. And I don't have a phone." It had been the first thing he'd ditched in the efforts of keeping his anonymity. He checked in with Bekah every few days via payphone, but he hadn't really been itching to replace the cell and make himself easily accessible to her and the rest of his family.
"Mine's dead," she grumbles, her lips pinching together. "So stupid, I know. But I left my charger at my hotel and didn't realize it. And then this happened."
"My truck can tow your car," Klaus offers. "I've the set up and everything. I'm sure we can find a mechanic in the next town."
She lights up, her gratitude plain, and steps closer, "Really? That would be amazing."
Klaus finds himself smiling back, "It's no trouble. Let me grab the chains."
She follows him, insisting on helping. Asks his name, offers hers. They make easy conversation and Klaus laughs often, her biting wit and bubbly charm highly enjoyable after weeks of solitude. He learns that she's from Virginia, an only child. That Caroline's just finished law school, and on a trip before she takes the bar exam.
"You know, thought I'd hang out with the little people before diving into blood sucking corporate America. Couldn't afford the entire Eat Pray Love package but I'm making it work," she'd joked blithely.
Klaus had found himself offering up information of his own, more truths then he usually allowed strangers. Told her stories about his siblings, a heavily redacted version of the events that had led them to immigrating to America (his fault, mostly. Once he hit puberty and it became obvious that he was different things had gotten even more strained at home. His mother had confessed to an affair with a traveler who she'd never seen again and the man he'd grown up thinking was his father showed his true, greedy and grasping, colors).
By the time he and Caroline have found a town, Klaus is idly wondering if it would be out of bounds to ask her to dinner. He wants to spend more time with her, would deeply regret it if he did not get to.
It turns out he doesn't have to do the asking, because once Caroline's done speaking with the mechanic she walks back out to meet him with a hopeful smile, "He says it'll take at least until tomorrow. Can I buy you dinner? A thank you, for your kick ass Good Samaritan work?"
Thank yous have been few and far between, in Klaus' experience. Even with tasks far more difficult and dangerous than the simple favor he'd done for Caroline.
"It really was no trouble, love," Klaus begins, and her face falls in disappointment. So he hurries to add, "But I've enjoyed your company immensely, so I'd love to have dinner with you."
She beams, bounces slightly on her toes, "Great! Apparently there's a place that does great burgers down the road. It's not fancy, but I'm not really dressed for wine and candles, you know?"
"You're beautiful," Klaus tells her, before he offers her his arm, enjoying the slight flush to her cheeks at the compliment and the amused sound Caroline makes as she lays her hand on the crook of his elbow, "Lead the way, sweetheart."
Klaus is standing by the time he hears footsteps, the slap of wet feet on the hardwood loud and distinct. He crosses his arms, and tries to look menacing.
He fails, if Caroline's reaction is anything to go by. "Oh good!" she croons sweetly, when she walks into the room. "You're up! I had to guesstimate on the dose, wasn't sure how long you'd be out for."
That explained the state he'd woken up in. "You drugged me?" he asks sharply.
"Yep," she confirms, moving to the refrigerator, not a hint of remorse to her. "I knew you'd be fine, eventually. Are you hungry?"
He is, but he'll be damned if he'll be fed in a cage like an animal. "I'm fine," Klaus grits out.
"You sure?" Caroline asks, turning knowing eyes on him. She wanders closer, and Klaus hates that his eyes drink her in, her wet hair and bare face and the thin purple robe that's clinging to her shower damp skin. He's thought about her often, since they'd parted. Remembered her laugh and what her skin had looked like illuminated by moonlight. Thought about how she'd moved and felt until he'd been aching and forced to see to himself.
But this Caroline is an unknown quantity. She's not to be trusted, and Klaus has no idea what her goals are here. He shouldn't want her, but his traitorous body disagrees.
"You had an awful big appetite that time we had dinner. For food, and other things," her voice drops suggestively, a naughty smirk on her lips.
It's gratifying that at least he's not alone in this odd attraction between the two of them. Her blue eyes are dark, as she watches him. Lids heavy and he can clearly see the outline of her nipples through the silk that barely covers them. Imagines that he could smell the lust on her, that intoxicating fragrance of her skin, if she came just a little closer.
But she keeps her distance, head cocked to the side. Klaus realizes that there's probably been a bit too revealing of a pause. "I'll live," he snaps.
Caroline shrugs, her robe slipping down her shoulder. Klaus narrows his eyes, sure that she's doing it on purpose. His hunch is confirmed, by the wicked gleam in her eye, the way she lets her fingers linger on her skin as she rights the fabric, covering her creamy skin from his eyes. If only it was so easy for him to forget. "If you're sure," she says innocently. "I'd hate to leave a guest wanting. It's the southern girl in me."
Klaus snorts, "Guest? Really, is that what we're going with, love? Do all your guests stay in cages?"
She smirks, "Maybe. Plenty of men are into that, you know."
"I'm not."
Caroline bites her lip coyly, her eyes dropping to linger on his mouth, "Oh, I remember."
Caroline slams him against the door to the room she'd rented with a surprising amount of force. But Klaus can take it, doesn't pause, too busy mapping the sensitive spots on her throat with lips and tongue and teeth. He grins, nibbles harder at the one he'd just found at the curve of her shoulder, and she curses, her hips jolting against his. "Door," she gasps. "We need to get the door."
Klaus hums, and she shivers, her head lolling to the side, "You're the one with the key," he points out, letting his hands slid under her top. It's been taunting him all day. Shifting with her movements revealing peeks of her back and stomach. He lets them travel higher, swallows back a moan when he confirms what he's suspected - that there's no bra underneath the flimsy top.
He traces the underside of her breasts with his thumbs, and she glares at him, her eyes fluttering like it takes a great effort to keep them open. Caroline licks her lips, "You need to stop touching me," she tells him, even though it sounds like it's the last thing that she wants. "There's a perfectly good bed in there. I want you in it."
That's not a statement Klaus has any objections to. One last swipe of her straining nipple, just to hear her gasp, and he steps back, gives her room.
She glares half-heartedly, mumbling something about making him pay, but digs the key card out of her wallet. She's quick, pushing the door open and crossing the threshold. Klaus follows, makes to grab her and pull her back into him, maybe get his hand down the front of her shorts, but she dodges him gracefully.
An impressive feat.
One he doesn't bother to ponder, because she's discarding her top and he's riveted by her tight pink nipples. Klaus reaches for her again, but she stops him with a firm hand on his chest. She pushes, a sultry smile curling her lips. Klaus' pulse races at the sinful promise in it.
He finds himself hitting the bed, sits down heavily because she's still pushing. Caroline leans down, slanting her lips over his. Klaus buries his hands in her hair, and she moans when he tugs. Her tongue is a slow tease, tasting him leisurely, as her hands drift down his sides. Klaus lifts his arms obligingly, helps her strip away his shirt. Her fingers trail down his torso, the faint scratch of her nails has his jaw clenching and his cock straining. She palms him, squeezes him lightly through his jeans, her lips brushing his ear. "It really was my lucky day when you drove by."
She drops to her knees before he can reply, her hands frantic on his belt and fly. He lifts up, when her fingers hook around the waistband, and she takes his jeans and boxer briefs down in one fast motion.
She teases him, wraps a hand around the base of his cock and strokes, lets her lips flit over the head. Licks the hint of precum that's beaded there with a satisfied little purr. "Caroline," Klaus rasps out pleadingly.
Caroline grins in response, her fist beginning to pump him slowly, "You taste good, Klaus. I want more. So tell me what you want. Who knows? Maybe I'll give it to you."
He doesn't even have to think about it, "I want you to put me in your mouth."
She wraps her mouth around his cock, taking a few inches and letting out a questioning hum as she pulls back. Rubs the tip of him over her lips, blinking up at him questioningly, "Like that? Did you like that?"
Klaus has his hands clenched around the edge of the mattress, the muscles in his legs like stone as he gropes for control. "Yes," he hisses, and she rewards him by doing it again, the tiniest hint of her teeth leaving him panting. She watches him as she works him, hard suction and purposeful licks, her hands taking what she can't. It's almost too much, and he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath as he tries to hold himself back.
Caroline's lips leave his cock with a wet pop, "Uh-uh," she scolds. "None of that. I want you to watch, Klaus. Maybe I should give you something worth watching, hmm?"
His eyes fly open, curious and eager. She flicks open the button of her shorts, slides her hand inside with a relieved little moan. Writhes against her fingers for a moment, thighs widening as her eyes roll back in her head. Klaus tenses, seconds away from yanking her into his lap and ripping her off the clothes that cover her. But she seems to sense it, leaning down so he can feel her breath on his cock and uttering, "I'm not done yet."
This time there's nothing gentle or exploratory. Her mouth is purposeful, sucking and teasing until he's quivering. She's still touching herself, sighing and whimpering, the delicious little noises heightening his need as they grow in need and frequency.
He stiffens, rumbles out, "Caroline…" in warning. But she doesn't release him, swallows around him as he lets go with a hoarse groan.
Klaus feels wrecked, when she's done, barely able to hold himself upright. The slyly pleased expression on her face says that she knows, and that she'd proud of her accomplishment. As she should be.
He wraps his hand in her hair, and stands, helps her to her feet. The taste of himself on her tongue when he kisses her has his cock twitching, and Klaus hurriedly pushes her shorts off of her hips. She glances down with interest, to where he's well on his way to being fully hard again, her eyes glazed with want, "Mmm, we're going to have a lot of fun," she mumbles against his mouth with a smile.
Klaus silently agrees, determined to show her just how much, lifting her and lowering her to the bed. Her eyes are a little wide, when she settles, "Huh. You're stronger then you look."
Klaus grins, "You have no idea, love," he threads their fingers together, pressing her hands into the bed next to her head. Kisses her, until she's arching up against him, "Did you want something?" he taunts, notching his body between her thighs. He slips his cock along her slit, gritting his teeth at the pleasure of her wet heat against him. Does it again, more firmly, watching her mouth open and her head dig into the pillows.
"We're sitting at 0 to 1 orgasm wise. I think it's only fair that we even that up," she says, admirably managing only the slightest unsteadiness, despite the straining of her body underneath him.
Klaus nuzzles into her neck, kissing her throat, pretending to think about it, "Did you want my mouth then, in the interest of equality?"
She whines, wraps a leg around his hip, "Seriously? I want you inside of me. Right now."
"Definitely later," Klaus muses. "I'd like to taste you. After I've exhausted you with my cock, and you're drifting off to sleep. I'll put my tongue on your clit and play. Softly at first, more firmly as your thighs twitch while I hold them wide. Until you're awake and dripping for me. I'll let you come, over and over again. Until rest no longer seems necessary."
The noise she makes is feral, her arms straining against his hold, "Klaus, please," she begs. "I need…"
"Condom?" he asks, cutting her off. Because waiting is torture for him too.
She shakes her head, strands of hair sticking to her flushed skin, "I.U.D. Just fuck me."
He works inside of her in one swift thrust, his moan echoing hers. She clamps her thighs around him, holding him tightly, and her hips rolling restlessly. She feels so good, slick and tight around him. Klaus lets go of her hands, barely registers the sting of her nails in his back. He rests his weight on one arm, kisses her greedily, with a decided lack of finesse, "You're incredible," he breathes, when he can tear his mouth from hers, pulling back because he needs to move.
She lets out a little sound of protest when he withdraws, a deeply satisfied murmur when he pushes inside of her again. Clenches down, like she wants to keep him there, with her. Klaus curses as the sensation sends him reeling. It's intense, and it builds fast, but Caroline's right there with him, "Klaus, please. I'm so close. More," she demands, thrashing under him and chasing her release.
Klaus lets his hand slip between them, finds her clit, determined that she'll go over first. He's already got one over her, after all. A firm rub of his thumb and she cries out, shaking against him, muscles locking. Klaus follows quickly, unable to hold on with her fluttering walls squeezing his cock.
"Caroline. That was… fuck," he manages, not recognizing his own voice, pleasure spent and gravelly.
She lets out a soft, breathless laugh, her hands running along his back, "Agreed," she mutters, kissing his shoulder.
Klaus rolls, concerned about crushing her. To his surprise, instead of snuggling down drowsily Caroline sits up, throwing a leg over his hips, planting her hands on his chest. She rotates her hips against him, grinds against the muscles of his stomach. He can feel the slickness of against his skin and he'll be ready for another round in no time, his eyes riveted on the way her breasts are bouncing, He reaches out to touch them, "Not tired then?" he asks curiously.
Caroline rolls her eyes, "Someone's full of themselves."
"I've been complimented on my stamina, a time or two," Klaus tells her, striving for modesty.
She grins, leaning down, her hair curtaining his face, "I'll be sure to fill out a comment card."
"I'm curious," Klaus asks. "Just how much of it was a lie?"
He'd shut down for a bit, needing time to process, to plan. She'd quickly grown bored of getting monosyllabic answers to her questions, pouted that it was no fun if he didn't fight back. She'd puttered about her kitchen, fixed a plate of food (that smelled delicious and had left Klaus' stomach growling – something Caroline had at least been polite enough to ignore). She'd settled onto her couch, the plushest thing in the room, and turned on the T.V.
She hadn't bothered putting on more clothes, her robe splitting and showing off most of her creamy thighs. It remained just as distracting as it had been before.
She turns her head, considering him, "I'd wager less on my part then it was on yours. My name is Caroline, I did go to law school. I could have afforded to go to Europe, however. My job in college was a little more lucrative then most. And it's even better now that I've gone full time. No benefits, but I heal better than most."
Klaus glances pointedly around the spacious loft, "Yes, I'd gathered that you weren't exactly struggling."
She ignores his sarcasm, "And 'Hey, I was in a freak accident when I was nine that left me a little different,' isn't exactly first date conversation. As you well know."
There's a hint of accusation there and Klaus finds himself perking up at the new information, turning to face her more fully. "I was born this way, in point of fact."
Caroline rolls her eyes, "Yeah, I know. Your mom got freaky with an alien. Your step dad was a seriously bad dude who thought experimenting on a child was cool. He ended up dead, you ended up in a new high school in a brand new country."
"How do you know that?" Klaus growls, hackles rising. No one knew that, save for his family and a few very select associates.
"A super villainess is only as good as her team. And my team is freaking amazing. Imagine my surprise that they managed to track down some ridiculously well buried footage of a certain San Fran do-gooder and he turned out to be the guy I'd banged on my summer vacation."
Klaus clenches his jaw, both to keep from protesting how casually she'd dismissed their time together, and from letting out the huff of amusement her words inspired. "You sound a bit miffed, love. Upset I'd settled in your city but didn't call you?"
They'd parted amicably, she'd given him her phone number, told Klaus to call her if he was ever in Chicago. Klaus still had it, looked at it every morning when he opened his refrigerator. Considered calling her constantly, but had been hesitant to drag her into his potentially messy life.
Uselessly, since she had buckets of complications of her own, by the looks of it. But there's no way he could have known that.
He'd been joking, but the dirty look Caroline shoots him tells him he might have touched a nerve. He stops holding the laugh in, and it comes out loud and booming. "Shut up," she hisses, crossing her arms and staring determinedly at the TV, her face blank and stony.
"No, sweetheart, I'm flattered. All this trouble, because you like me? Makes a man positively tingly," he needles, even though it's a little true.
Her movements are jerky as she stands, and stalks over to him, "I said, shut up. And, for your information, I only needed you out of the way. I've got a big job tonight, no need to have you messing it up and jumping back on the 'saving the world one bank at a time' wagon. I cover all my bases. It's why I'm the best."
"I'm retired, in case you haven't noticed."
Caroline scoffs, "I've been tailing you for two weeks. You've stopped two muggings, a liquor store robbery and saved a baby from a fire."
Klaus bristles, "I get bored, alright? Used to a certain amount of excitement, even if the perks left something to be desired."
Her head tips, a calculating look in her eyes, "Hmm. Now that's interesting."
"What's interesting?"
But she doesn't elaborate. Caroline glances at the clock and he follows her gaze, "Late for your petty thieving, love?"
"Almost," she admits. Her hands drop to the belt of her robe, "Now, that cage is rigged to let you out when the job's done. And you're free to go. Feel free to wander back to your routine to trying to be super boring when you're not. Or…"
She trails off, sending him a smile that makes his pulse race. It's a promise, and a temptation. And Klaus hates that he can't resist the bait. "Or, what?"
Caroline tugs the belt, letting it fall to the floor, her robe slipping down after, leaving her bare and just as gorgeous as Klaus remembered. She stands before him shamelessly, her head held high, "Or you could stay. You could wait here, or in my bed, and when I get back we can talk about other ways of dealing with your boredom. Fun ways. Lucrative ways. And if you're not up to the job opportunity we could just have hot angry sex, and call it a night. I might even let you punish me for kidnapping you."
She turns, and leaves the room, and Klaus isn't strong not to enjoy the view, his eyes falling to her arse hungrily, and his palms itching to feel it once more.
He's made his decision before she'd cleared the room.
He knows he'll be staying, for the angry sex at the very least. Klaus wants to test the limits of the differentness she'd mentioned. With context the flashes of unusual strength and speed he'd brushed off, her unflagging energy, are extra intriguing.
A woman who can keep up with him is a rare find. A woman who intrigues him more than sexually, as Caroline does, rarer still.
As for the rest of it, he has a sneaking suspicion that he'll be easily persuaded.
Being good had always been so much effort, for so little reward. And if Caroline was a perk of being a bad guy, how was Klaus supposed to resist?