Notes: Some Tumblr drabbles to help with some smut writing. I reblogged one of those kink prompt lists and these are the first batch that resulted. Pretty smutty (except for the second one) so skip if that's not your thing. Enjoy!
Happy Birthday, Klaus
(Prompt: #45 – Ownership/claiming/marking. SMUT).
Having been banned from his own home for most of the day – Rebekah had insisted he be out of her hair while she prepared (read: drank heavily and ordered compelled humans about) for his 1100th birthday celebration – Klaus was in a bit of a mood.
The infuriatingly knowing smirk Kol had shot him, when he'd wished Klaus a happy birthday when he'd gotten home, had been an added irritant. Making his way upstairs Klaus' temper frays even more when he hears his shower running. He'd put his foot down, insisted that the myriad of old vampire and witch acquaintances Bekah had been invited stay elsewhere. If she'd gone against his wishes, and one of them was plotting a pitiful seduction…
Well, they'd be less a party guest this evening, wouldn't they?
Throwing open the door to his room Klaus is given a moment's pause at seeing the pile of luggage stacked in the middle of the floor. It's well used, the leather scuffed and worn. And he recognizes it, had watched it's owner rifle through the bags, searching for clothes, in dozens of different hotel rooms over the last half-century.
Caroline hadn't set foot in North America since she'd flown out of Richmond after her mother's death.
Until now.
Klaus debates barging in to the bathroom – it is his shower after all – and demanding answers, but the water cuts off before he can do so. He listens to Caroline move about, she hums softly while she pats herself dry. The door clicks open and she steps out, tendrils of steam following her. Her eyes widen when she sees him Klaus and her lips purse faintly in pout he recognizes. She always makes it when a plan's been thwarted, a want denied. He's fond of it, of how she looks when she's twisted in crisp sheets and begging him to make her come. "Hey. I wasn't expecting you so soon."
She's wrapped in a towel, hair dripping over her shoulders and she smells like his soap. It's one of his favorite versions of Caroline Forbes.
"I wasn't expecting you at all," Klaus counters, moving slowly in her direction.
Caroline's chin lifts, her eyes challenging. "I was invited. Rebekah had me tracked down."
"You were invited repeatedly, as I recall. And may I ask why it's my sister's invitation you finally deigned to accept?"
Caroline shrugs, and her towel slips. Klaus' eyes track the gape over her breasts greedily. "There were some very creative threats attached to hers."
Not what he'd wanted to hear.
Clenching his teeth together he changes course, walks passed her, tugging his shirt over his head. "I see. Well, since your visit is obligatory, feel free to help yourself to a guest room."
He tenses, at the unmistakable sound of her towel hitting the floor. Caroline pays his dismissal no mind, her tone light, "And I was planning on heading this way anyway. Since it's your birthday. And I know you like those. I'll take the guest room though. My stuff's being delivered next week."
It hits him like a blow, and he's whirling as it lands, his shock open and apparent. "Repeat that," he demands, stalking towards her.
Caroline holds her ground, only the tiniest flutter of her hands at her sides betraying her nerves. "I had my storage space emptied. Sixty-two years worth of my assorted crap is going to show up at your door next week. I might need more than one room, now that I think about it."
Klaus presses his body to hers, dips his head to run his nose along her throat. Her pulse is just a touch too fast, blood rushing just below the surface of her skin. He's fairly certain that he understands what she's saying, and he'll give her all the rooms she desires if he's correct. She swallows hard when he rests his hands on her, his thumbs stroking over the delicate skin below her hipbone. "Speak plainly, Caroline. If you're here to stay, be certain it's what you want." He kisses her throat, reacquainting himself with the taste of her skin. "Because I won't let you go."
Caroline shudders against him, her head falling back. "This is what I want. I want you."
He wraps an arm around her waist, lets his mouth wander down. "You'll be mine. Only mine."
Her laugh is breathy, and her hands wind into his hair when he licks her nipple, tugging when he uses his teeth, "I can't tell if you're trying to persuade me or warn me away."
He bites a little harder, pulls back to watch the mark fade. "I think I've been plenty persuasive, over the years. Perhaps a warning or two is only fair? A little taste of how things will be."
Her expression clouds with confusion, and Klaus grins. Her breath hitches when he palms her arse, yanking her up against him. She's already wet, the tantalizing scent of it in the air as he grinds her bare center against his jeans. Caroline moans, claws at his shoulders. She tries to rock against him but Klaus takes a few long strides, dropping her on to his bed and pulling back before she can get much relief. "Let's play a little game, love," he purrs.
It's not a new phrase, had preceded many spectacular encounters, and Caroline's eyes drift shut for a moment, her fingers clenching in the sheets. They've come a long way from that first time, grappling together on the forest floor. They've spent days in bed together, and he's slowly teased out the things she likes, shown her a few more he's certain she'd never have suspected she'd find so gratifying. Her chest rises and falls quickly, and when her lashes lift again the blue of her irises has darkened. She nods shakily, "Okay."
"Heels on the bed. Spread your legs. Hands on your nipples."
She shudders, her inhale shaky as she does as he's asked, and Klaus leisurely begins undoing his belt, his eyes drawn between her legs to where she's slick and flushed. She toys with her nipples, hips shifting restlessly as she strokes and tugs. Klaus kicks off his boots, discards his pants and socks and steps closer. He ghosts a fingertip over her entrance, before letting it travel up, painting her clit with her wetness. Caroline whines softly as he withdraws. He parts her folds, and rubs his cock along them for several moments, before pulling back and wrapping his hand around himself, stroking himself firmly. The motions are practiced, the sight of Caroline in his bed, nipples taut and skin turning pink compelling. It's not long before he feels the familiar tightening that signals his release is coming. Klaus presses the head of his cock to her clit as he spills, and Caroline's eyes roll back, a gasp leaving her throat.
He takes a step away, and clears his throat. But the roughness in his tone remains as he watches his release coat her flesh, mingle with the evidence of how much she wants him. "I need to shower, before the party starts. I want you to stay here, and touch yourself while I do that."
Caroline bites her lip, squirming below him, one of her hands sliding down her belly eagerly. Klaus catches it, pressing down to still her. "But don't come. I want you to get yourself just to the edge, where your thighs are twitching and you've soaked your fingers. And then I want you to stop and do it again. And again, until you hear the water turn off."
He lets her hand go, and Caroline's fingers continue their journey and slide through her folds for a moment, before a wicked smirk crosses her lips. She brings her finger up to her lips, daintily licking their combined fluids from it with a pleased little hum. Klaus' cock twitches in response, and only centuries of firmly honed control stop him from diving on to her.
The wait will be worth it, in the end.
"And if I do?" she wonders, "What do I get?"
"Good girls get rewards. I'll use my mouth, let you come on my tongue. Then I'll flip you on to your hands and knees, and fuck you until you come around my cock."
Caroline's lips part, her head tipping back as she slides two fingers inside of her body, back arching against the mattress, thrusting her breasts in the air. "Sounds like I'm going to need another shower."
Klaus shakes his head, "No, I'm afraid not. I imagine you bought a tempting little dress to wear this evening, did you not? Sinful scraps of lace to go underneath?"
Caroline's widening smirk confirms his suspicion about her intentions. "Panties, yeah. But a bra won't work with the dress."
"Ah, yes. You do like to tease me in public."
"Mmm. It is pretty fun," she murmurs, eyes heavy lidded as she brings her free hand down to tease her clit.
"And I let you have your fun before, sweetheart. Managed to behave, and only kill a few of the human men who looked at you like they thought they could have you. That's done. Tonight I want my scent on you. After I've fucked you, when my come stains your thighs, I'm going to touch you again. Work you up until you're aching for me, until the tiniest touch to your clit will push you over. But I won't. And neither will you. You'll get dressed, slip those pretty knickers you bought for me on, and come down to the party on my arm. Every vampire down there will know that you're mine, and how much you like it."
"Sounds like torture," Caroline gasps. She plays with her nipple again, and Klaus bends to lick off the trace of her arousal she's left there. She presses up with a whimper, chasing his mouth as he pulls back.
"I mean it to be. Just when you think you've calmed down, I'll find you. I'll whisper dirty things in your ear, or slip my hand under your dress. Rub that lace against your clit until you're right back to being desperate for me."
"Klaus…" Caroline moans, lips wet and parted. The motions of her hand pick up, her palm rubbing over her clit as she fucks herself with rapid strokes. She's beginning to thrash, thighs spread wide.
Klaus makes a chiding noise, "Careful, love. Wouldn't want to lose so soon, would you?"
She shakes her head, hair spreading out behind her, "I won't," she mutters hoarsely, "Just a little more…" He watches her avidly as her muscles grow taut and quiver. Little moans and whines fall from her. Caroline's toes curl into the edge of the mattress and her back leaves it, her weight supported mostly by her shoulders. "Fuck. I'm so…" a string of curses follow and she pants as she pulls her hand away abruptly.
Caroline closes her eyes, puts real effort into pulling herself back, face tight with strain as she stretches out her arms. She glares up at him after a few moments, more playful than irritated though Klaus suspects that will change, after another few self-denials.
He looks forward to coaxing her out of her temper later.
"I thought you said something about a shower?" she tells him pointedly, rolling her head to look at the bathroom door.
Klaus leans down, brushes his lips over hers, "So I did. Thank you for the reminder. Perhaps I'll make it a long one, hmm?"
Her moan is drawn out, frustrated, as he leaves the bed. But she's clever, so she doesn't protest. If she had, he might have actually made good on the threat.
There's always next time.
Jump
(Prompt: #26 – Wing!Kink/Other Non-human Traits. No smut but suggestive, I guess?)
In her position, chained to a wall in a gross dank cave, about to be a freaking sacrifice, it probably wasn't smart to bare her fangs and snarl at the witch that approached. But screw it, there was no way Caroline was going to go out sniveling and pleading for mercy from a guy who, according to all reports, had none to spare.
Klaus looks amused rather than irritated standing a few feet away. "Such spirit," he remarks, watching her with a twitch of interest that makes Caroline nervous. "And so very pretty. Shame you have to die."
Caroline's about to snap something (probably ill advised) back, but the witch makes an annoyed noise, shaking her head. "We can't use her."
Klaus straightens, expression darkening. His tone is a low, dangerous, demand and the witch cringes slightly in response. "Explain, Greta."
"She's not a vampire."
"I beg your pardon?" Klaus says, drifting closer. He takes in Caroline's red eyes, the black veins and fangs she has on full display. "Looks an awful lot like a vampire to me."
"She's not just a vampire," the witch rushes to explain. She steps forward, hand outstretched. "Some kind of demon," Greta continues, head tipped to the side in contemplation. "I'm betting Harpy."
"Um, what? Pretty sure I'd know if I were a demon," Caroline interrupts.
"Not if you were bound," the witch tells her snidely. "Did you know vampires existed, before you became one? It's a big world out there, little girl."
Caroline lashes out, nearly manages to sink her fangs into the bitch's forearm, but Klaus' hand on her throat stops her. He squeezes, a hint of a threat, "Easy, love. I'm intrigued but don't test me. I need Greta do the ritual so mind your manners, hmm?" She glares, but forces herself to relax against the wall. Klaus' thumb strokes her skin, oddly soothing, given their positions. "Good," he murmurs. "I knew you'd see things my way, sweetheart. Now, Greta. Please proceed."
Greta's hands latch on to Caroline's head, and her eyes fall closed. Her face twists, effort apparent though Caroline feels nothing put a faint pull.
At first.
Then her back starts to itch. Dully, but with more intensity as Greta begins to chant. Caroline shifts, trying to get some relief from the feeling by rubbing against the stone at her back. Her nails elongate, and her vision changes, sharpening far beyond what she's become accustomed to. Two sharp stabs, placed between her shoulder blades have her crying out, and she rips away from the wall, the previously immovable metal bindings giving like paper, as she slumps to the ground. "Out," Klaus clips out, shoving Greta towards the entrance to the cave. "Be a dear and check on the collection of the werewolf, would you?"
Klaus' minions are apparently well trained, and Caroline hears footsteps retreat quickly, even as she digs her hands into the dirt, the pain along her spine intensifying. Klaus crouches down next to her, a touch of sympathy in his gaze. "I only turned the one time. But I recall it was excruciating."
"And yet, you want to do it again?" Caroline pants out, eyes squeezing shut as another shudder wracks her body.
"I dislike the idea that I can't. That my mother took my wolf from me."
A control freak. Of course. Caroline supposed she could relate. She would be having serious words with her parents about this Harpy thing later. Would it have killed them to have given her a heads up? Caroline's gaze snaps up, feeling Klaus' fingertips on the back of her neck. "It's just wings, love. A few more minutes and they'll be out. It should only hurt this once."
"Ugh," Caroline groans. "Awesome. Just like losing my virginity, right?"
Klaus laughs, though he seems to attempt to smother it quickly. "That doesn't have to hurt. Though I suspect whatever fumbling teenage boy who had the honor mucked it up."
She's too distracted by what's happening to her body, the bizarre sensation of her vertebrae grinding together, changing, to register that she really should shut up. "Oh boy, did he ever. There really should be less talk of condoms, more talk of locating the clit, in sex ed."
Another low sound of amusement, and Klaus' hand wanders lower as he settles on to the ground. He rips away the back of her shirt, and it flutters uselessly down over her arms. Caroline's about to protest, but he urges her down onto her stomach moving so his firm hands are massaging down the length of her spine.
And any intentions of telling him off kind of fly out the window, because it feels really good, eases the worst of the painful spasms. "Tell me about Harpies," she demands, needing something else to focus on. "I was just getting a handle on the whole vampire thing. I like to be prepared."
Klaus indulges her. "You'll be stronger, as you've likely already noticed. Faster, your senses heightened far beyond that of a vampire your age. Flight is now possible. I've only encountered a few, in all my centuries. They're exceedingly rare."
"Great," Caroline grumbles. "I'm a super freak of nature, just what I've always wanted."
"Don't you see the appeal, Caroline? Of being special, powerful?"
He sounds genuinely curious, and Caroline can't say that he's wrong. Her life has gotten exponentially more dangerous, since Katherine killed her. She fought back, but many of her opponents had more weapons than she did. "Maybe," she admits grudgingly.
"I have several volumes, in my collection, that might have information that's useful to you. If you'd like to stop by my house next week..."
Caroline snorts, turns her head to look at him, "You basically just offered to show me your etchings. After you kill a couple of my friends. Why would I go for that?"
Klaus' eyes turn calculating, "Perhaps you've a point. I'll spare the werewolf boy, how's that? You're fond of him, from what I've seen. I can always find another."
"And Elena?"
The denial is immediate. "Impossible. The doppelganger is a crucial ingredient."
"Then I'm going to have to pass."
"Pity," Klaus muses. Her skin begins to shift, under his hands, twitching wildly, and he lifts them away. "Ah, just about done, then."
"What?" Caroline asks, craning her head to try to see. She lets out a short shriek, feeling her skin tear, her nails dig harshly into the ground. She can smell the blood, dripping down her spine in both directions, and then she sees the wings. They flutter when she looks at them, pulling at the rapidly healing skin.
Gossamer thin and transparent, edged in black with spidery veins running throughout, they're kind of a shock. She's blinking at them stupidly, doesn't register that Klaus is reaching for out, until she feels his touch. He's achingly gentle, tracing the top of one, but the sensation rockets through her entire body, bright bursts of electricity, leaving her shivering.
But not from cold.
He does it again, lips curling into a smirk. Caroline's eyes flutter shut, absorbing the new feeling, fighting the urge to arch her back at the crawling pleasure of it. She stills, feeling his breath against her skin, bites her lip to keep in the moan that wants to spill out, when he laps at a trail of blood while his fingers continue their strokes to her wing.
God, this shouldn't be turning her on.
One last rough stroke of his tongue, a noise of delight buried in her feverish skin and he's gone, getting to his feet. His voice is low, a smooth enticement, "I'd forgotten how good your kind tastes. My offer stands, love. Come find me if you get curious. I'll lend you the books. Or if you'd like a more hands on demonstration of what you can do, I'd be happy to provide one."
He retreats, steps echoing out of the cave, and it takes an enormous amount of willpower for Caroline not to call him back, the ache between her thighs persuasive and warring with her returning rational mind.
Klaus was still the bad guy. She had to remember that.
Right Face, Wrong Time
(Prompt: #57 – Rough Sex + #59 – Wall Sex. Title from "I Don't Want To Fall In Love" by She Wants Revenge. SMUT).
Caroline hadn't expected to end the night between Klaus and a brick wall, but she really wasn't going to complain.
Not with his lips on her throat, and his hands frantic on her skin. He hitches one of her legs around his waist, rocking roughly against her. She moans, pulling him into her harder, the friction between his jeans and her panties a frustrating tease.
She wants more.
She hadn't seen him in years, not since she'd blown through New Orleans right before she'd left to see the world. She'd stayed a couple days longer than planned and saw almost none of the sights, finding plenty to occupy herself inside the four walls of Klaus' bedroom.
Klaus showing up at the bar she worked at in Berlin (bartending might not have been what she dreamed of as a little girl, but Caroline found it suited her current purposes nicely - good money, flexible schedules, easy feeding and no guilt when she got bored and decided to hop to another city) had been a shock.
Seriously, couldn't he have called first? She was entirely certain he kept tabs on her, some of his lackeys dearly needing a refresher in discretion. Although it was possible that was on purpose, that maybe Klaus would believe he was being less creepy if she was aware of her security detail.
She'd had her customer smile on, friendly, a little flirty, when she'd looked up to take a drink order and there Klaus had been. Hair a little longer than the last time she'd seen him (and yeah, it worked for her) but otherwise unchanged, smirk in place. Caroline's eyes had narrowed, and she'd turned, poured him a glass of the best bourbon they stocked and plopped it down in front of him. "I don't have time for you," she'd told him haughtily.
She'd caught his, "I'll wait, love," too faint for any non-vampire to hear, easily as she'd turned to the next person waiting for a drink.
And he had. Caroline had found herself seeking him out, whenever there was a brief lull. He always seemed to have a woman nearby, and they were usually gorgeous and scantily clad.
Not that she was jealous.
She'd caught his eye when it was time to take her break, and he'd detached himself from the brunette who'd been gazing at him adoringly. Letting herself out from behind the bar she'd stalked towards him. "Klaus, seriously. Why are you here?"
He'd reached out, fingered a loose curl, "Not happy to see me? And I thought we parted on such good terms."
Caroline had narrowed her eyes, and batted his hand away, "Only if you call fucking in the backseat of your SUV in the airport parking lot good."
Klaus had favored her with a mystified look, "I would, actually. And I don't recall a whisper of complaint from you."
She'd crossed her arms, and refused to be baited. He might have kind of had a point, and she'd known she'd been being kind of unreasonable. It had taken her forever to stop thinking about him when she'd first arrived in Europe, the temptation to call him nagging her at every turn. She wasn't supposed to have missed him, but she had. And that had been scary.
She didn't want to do it all over again.
"Klaus, I'm working. Whatever you want can wait until tomorrow. I need to eat." She'd spun on her heel and hadn't bothered to wait for a reply. She'd assumed that Klaus would leave, give her a chance to pull herself together.
A mistake.
She'd forced herself to calm down, scanned the clubgoers for an appealing target.
Caroline totally stood by the 'cute boys just taste better' thing.
She'd found one quickly, and if the lean build and stubble were what hooked her, well there was no one around to judge. She'd asked him to dance, and he'd been practically eating out of the palm of her hand, heart racing and reeking of arousal when she'd pressed her breasts to his chest. A crook of her finger and he'd followed her, into a darkened hallway that was reserved for employees.
Caroline had shoved him against the door, catching his gaze. She's compelled him not to struggle, make noise or feel pain, and then she'd dug her fangs into his throat. She'd taken more than she should've, Klaus' appearance throwing her and shaking her usually perfect control. She'd muttered an apology, even though he wouldn't remember, and had dug into her own wrist, dripping enough of her blood into his mouth to heal him.
Another round of compulsion and he'd been on his way.
That was when she'd been dealt another shock. Klaus hadn't left. Had, in fact, been standing right on the other side of the door when Caroline had opened it.
Which had led to her current predicament.
Fresh blood pumping through her veins, and Klaus looking at her like that – hungry and covetous and so very enthralled – it just hadn't been possible to resist when he'd surged into her, sucked her lower lip between his teeth. A rough groan had rumbled through him when he licked into her mouth, and Caroline's hands had fisted in his shirt, needing something to hang on to.
He'd pulled back, attacked her throat with rough kisses, and urged her against the wall. "Is there anyone else back here?" he'd asked her.
Caroline had shaken her head. "No. This leads to a cellar. Emergency exit but it doesn't open from the outside."
"Good," Klaus had gritted out. He reached out, and she heard metal grinding as he destroyed the doorknob.
She felt the rough bricks at her back, and lost herself for long minutes. In his soft lips and rough beard on her skin, his hands teasing her thighs, nails digging into the curve of her ass. She lets out a moan when he lifts her, pressing her tightly to the wall. He pulls back and looks at her face, a darkly calculating expression on his.
Caroline knows it doesn't bode well for her. She squirms, tries to distract him. Only succeeds in making herself moan once more, when the hard ridge of his zipper presses against her just right. "Such a cold greeting," Klaus muses, nose running along the neckline of her shirt. "And now here you are, hot and wet and wanting in my arms. Would you like to explain why, love? You visited me, in my city. Am I not allowed to stop by the one you're calling home?"
"It's not like that," she denies weakly, sucking in a breath when his hands slide under her shirt. He's annoyingly slow about it, his rough palms making a slow glide up her torso. And he stops, his thumbs gliding over the under curves of her breasts, just dipping under the wire of her bra.
"Tell me what it's like, Caroline," he demands softly, but there's steel underneath.
Caroline throws her head back against the wall, closes her eyes. She wants to lie, pull some flimsy excuse about having a crappy day out of nowhere, but he'll know. Instead, a version of the truth comes out, quick and clipped. "I'm supposed to be having fun, okay? No strings, no attachments. Caroline Forbes Does Europe Vampire Style. And you almost screwed that up for me last time."
"You came to me, sweetheart," Klaus points out. Annoyingly reasonably, but at least he's moved one of his hands, fingertips teasing her nipple into a tight peak.
"I know," she sighs.
"Do you regret it?" Klaus asks curiously.
God, she's often wished that she could.
Caroline swallows, meets his eyes steadily, "No."
Klaus grins, pleased and feral in the dim light. "Good. Then I forgive you for your appalling rudeness earlier in the evening and will allow you to make it up to me."
Caroline's mouth falls open but her indignant, 'Hell, no' never makes it past her lips. Klaus has worked his hand between them, shredded her underwear, and buried two fingers inside of her. It comes out more like a squeak. His thumb passes over her clit, rubbing with the perfect amount of pressure. She claws at his shirt, tearing it away, digging her nails into his shoulders as she rides his fingers. "Klaus," she moans, "More."
He bends his head, bites into her neck with blunt teeth and Caroline jolts. She wants fangs, the burn of his venom followed by his blood on her tongue, but Klaus is speaking, distracting her. "Did that boy taste good, Caroline? I couldn't help but notice a certain resemblance."
Ugh, of course he had. His fingers move faster, hooking inside of her, scraping against a spot on her inner walls that leaves her breathless and crying out. His circles on her clit roughen, and her thighs twitch in response.
"Did you think of me, when you drank from him? Think of this?"
He doesn't seem to expect an answer, and Caroline's beyond being able to formulate one. One last thrust and she's there, moaning as she comes, shuddering against him. He sets her down immediately, and Caroline lets out a confused noise. Klaus' hands are urgent, turning her around. "Hands on the wall, love."
He hears his belt jingle, possibly something tearing. Caroline sets shaky hands on the wall, arching her back when he shoves her skirt up. One of his hands delves back under her shirt, ripping her bra away. She feels the brush of the other on her ass, just before the tip of his cock prods at her entrance. He thrusts in, stretching her perfectly, and Caroline gropes behind her, tangling her hand into his hair. He stills for a long moment, taut at her back. She feels his breath on her neck, the harsh gusts of air making her shiver. Caroline tips her head to the side, the invitation clear. "Bite," she tells him, circling her hips. "Drink. Please."
A rough groan is the only warning she gets, followed by the brief sharp pain of him tearing into her skin. Caroline whimpers, but he shoves his wrist in front of her mouth, and she bites down immediately, drinking greedily.
She's dabbled in blood sharing, tasted hundreds upon hundreds of humans. But nothing comes close to Klaus.
He begins to move, slow retreats that leave her panting, firm entries that light up her nerves. Words tumble from her lips, needy pleading (and she's so thankful for the loud music because she's not sure she could resist killing someone who interrupted them right now). Caroline circles her hips in time with the strokes of his cock, her moans muffled against his skin. Klaus pulls back first, tearing the neckline of her shirt aside as he litters frantic kisses across her shoulders. Caroline lets his wrist go with a gasp, leaning her forehead against the wall. Klaus crowds her, hot along the line of her back. "Did you miss this, Caroline?" he grits out. "Me. The things I make you feel. How perfect you feel with my cock inside you, my blood in your mouth. Have you touched yourself, wished it was my hands? Pictured my face, when you struggle to come underneath someone else, because it's the only thing that can get you off?"
She's nodding, trying to catch her breath, enamored with the feel of his skin against hers, too far gone to even attempt a denial.
"Good," he says, viciously pleased. A hand drops between her legs, and he finds her clit, rubbing it frantically. The tiny shake of his fingers is gratifying, lets her know she's not alone in this need. "That's good. Come for me, love. All over me. Then we're going to leave, find a bed. You quite liked my mouth, didn't you, love? I'll tease your clit until you scream for me, lick you until you beg me for more. Sink my teeth into your thigh as you're coming."
It's his voice that does it, sends her spinning, knees going weak as she slumps against the wall. Klaus groans, and follows her over, his arm around her waist the only thing that keeps her on her feet.
She swallows hard as she gets her bearings. Klaus' face is buried in her shoulder, and he's tracing shapes on her stomach with one hand, the other smoothing down her side. She moans as he pulls back, clamps her thighs together at the rush of wetness left behind. "I have no idea how we're going to walk out of here," Caroline says, as she pushes away from the wall, surveying their clothing. "Only my skirt and your jeans survived."
Klaus is unconcerned, manages to knot the shoulder of her top together so she's decent, if not fashionable and tugging her skirt in to place. "This time of night, this part of town, my lack of a shirt will raise few eyebrows.
He has a point. "And it's a good thing I was planning on moving on soon, because I'm totally fired."
"Mmm. Particularly after we steal some of the good liquor and break the cellar door."
Caroline's jaw drops, "We can't do that!" she hisses.
Klaus chuckles, wraps an arm around her waist and steers her deeper in to the hallway. "Don't sound so scandalized, love. Surely Caroline Forbes Does Europe Vampire Style has included at least a little crime?"
"My mother was a sheriff," Caroline protests. It's flimsy, since yeah, technically some of the compulsions she's pulled off (the steep discount on her apartment, for example) skirt the edge of legality.
Klaus smirks, and Caroline jumps, when his hand dips particularly low, dipping just under her waistband, as they begin to descend the staircase. "Then allow me to corrupt you, sweetheart."
Caroline snorts, "That's such a line."
"Perhaps. But are you telling me you don't want me to? You're not ready for something permanent, and I'll respect that, go on my merry way in a week or two. But in the meantime allow me to give you a little taste of what permanency might be like."
She's wavering, and he knows it, judging by the sly little smile that brings out his dimples. His tone turns cajoling, "Take a chance, Caroline."
She only resists for a moment before she throws her head back and laughs, knocking her shoulder into his. "Repeating a line? I am so disappointed. You're supposed to be smooth, Klaus."
"You're taking me home with you, aren't you?" Klaus points out innocently, threading his fingers through hers. "I think I've done quite well."
She rolls her eyes, scoffs loudly. Mumbles something about what a cocky jerk he is. But she tugs him in the correct direction, and they liberate as many bottles as they can carry.
Which is a lot. Because vampires.
And if he stays for a month, coaxes her into another in Paris, well that's no big deal. A drop in the bucket, for them, considering they have nothing but time stretching out in front of them.
And she already knows how persuasive he can be.
In Our Bedroom After The War
(Prompt #30 – Riding + #53 – Hurt/Comfort. Title from the Stars song of the same name. SMUT).
"Hold still," Caroline demands. "Seriously, for the number of times people have tortured you you'd think your pain tolerance would be a little higher."
"My tolerance is fine," Klaus complains, wincing when she digs the tweezers back into his skin. "It's your bedside manner that's deplorable."
She glares and Klaus glares right back, before he drops his eyes down to her shaking hands pointedly. Caroline clenches her teeth together and breathes in deeply through her nose. Because fine, maybe he has a point.
She wasn't going to admit it, especially since he was the one who inspired a vampire to actually turn a mad scientist type with the purpose of inventing a weapon that shot about a bajillion toothpicks at a ridiculous velocity.
Aimed at her, of course. Since they wouldn't actually kill Klaus.
Clearly Klaus would never be a people person.
His freaky hybrid senses had saved her ass, and his body had shielded hers, taking the brunt of the projectiles. Her arms, and one of her legs had been riddled with the bits of wood, but they'd mostly been shallow, and had pushed right out after she'd fed on one of the humans who'd been part of the group of attackers.
After Klaus had destroyed the giant toothpick gun thing. Because she wasn't an idiot.
He wasn't so lucky, and many of the tiny wooden stakes were embedded deep and needed to be removed before he would heal.
It was kind of déjà vu. Caroline would bet that Silas would have been tickled by the situation, were he still around. It's different now, because she can admit she cares about Klaus, that seeing him hurt freaked her out. Hell, they've been sleeping in the same bed for the better part of thirty years (save for the odd time he really pisses her off and gets drunk and passes out in his studio) and she's planning on sticking around. And while he's in no real danger, since it's plain old birch and not white oak, that doesn't mean she likes it when he's uncomfortable and bleeding as she roots around in his flesh.
He grabs her free hand, the one that had been resting on his chest, and squeezes. "'I'm fine," he assures her, ducking his head to catch her eyes. "You're fine. And by tomorrow we'll have discovered if there are any more of their group out there that need to be taken care of. And I will take care of them, I promise."
Caroline nods, takes another deep breath. She trusts him, knows he'd do just about anything to ensure the safety of a few select people, and that she was on that list. Her hand is steadier, when she reaches for the next piece of wood, and Klaus' only reaction is a brief grimace. She works silently for a time, methodically, working her way down his torso.
Absently, she shoves him down, climbs on to his lap to begin working on his stomach. His hands come up to land on her thighs, tracing shapes along the top of them. Caroline ignores him, until she feels him hardening against her ass. "Nope," she clips out, refusing to look up at him. She just knows it will kill her resolve. "Not happening. Not tonight."
"Love," Klaus begins, in that low, coaxing tone that has led to some very questionable decisions on Caroline's part.
Mostly involving sex in public places.
He knew she was into it and totally exploited it, the smug jerk.
"Nope," she repeats. "I am going to finish de-toothpicking you. You are going to feed. And then you are going to have a shower. And I am going to make the bed because these sheets are ruined. And then we are going to sleep, so you're all fresh and ready to get your enemy slaying on tomorrow."
She chances a glance up, only to find him looking insulted. "I do not need sleep to kill people, Caroline."
Caroline snorts because hello, understatement.
"And this is hardly the first set of sheets we've ruined with a little blood, love. It's just usually in a far more enjoyable fashion."
His hands drift higher, edging her skirt up. Caroline can't swat his hands away, right in the middle of digging out a stubborn piece as she is. He brushes over the front of her panties with a thumb, ghosting over her clit, and Caroline's breath falters, "Klaus," she warns. "Do you want me to drive this in deeper? Stop distracting me."
Klaus, of course, doesn't listen, pressing harder, letting out a pleased hum when he finds the lace damp over her entrance. "I think you quite like me distracting you, sweetheart. Tell me, what's gotten you worked up? The fight? Or do you like playing nurse? Because I would be happy to explore that."
Caroline rolls her eyes, but doesn't bother to respond. Until Klaus tears her underwear off. "Hey!" she scolds, but Klaus rolls into a sitting position, and the play of muscles as he moves is a little distracting.
She runs her hand over his abs lightly (totally checking for more wood) and Klaus peels her dress down her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra with it. His tongue flicks over a nipple, far too gently, before he peers up at her innocently. "Should I stop?" he asks. "Since you're so very determined that we get a good night's rest."
Caroline mentally debates getting up, and going with her initial plan, just to get him back for being an unbearable smartass. But he's sneaky, shifting the hand that still rests between her thighs and pressing it against her firmly, tracing over her slit. And she does want him, wants to feel him inside of her, to know that he really will be fine.
Besides, he was 1000 years old. The chances of him changing any of his more annoying personality traits at this point were pretty unlikely.
No reason to torture herself.
She threads her hand through his hair, directing him back to her breast. She sees a quick flash of teeth, a sly grin, but she can't be mad when he sucks her nipple between his lips, just as his fingers find her clit. He doesn't push his luck, there's no teasing. His mouth is the perfect combination of rough suction and the blunt edge of teeth, his fingers pushing inside of her as his thumb works her clit.
He knows her body, and has mastered just the right way to touch her, and she comes quickly, in long shuddering waves, head tipped up to the ceiling as she moans his name. Klaus smiles against her skin, and she's certain he's about to say something he thinks is oh so clever.
Better not to give him the chance.
She pushes on his shoulders, staring him down until he rests flat against the bed. Caroline sits up on her knees and tears at his belt before shoving his pants down. She takes a moment to strip her dress and bra away, before she wraps her hand around his cock.
Klaus hisses out a breath between clenched teeth as she toys with the head, smearing the precum to ease the way when her grip firms as she strokes down. His head digs into the bed, the cords of his neck in sharp relief.
Hey, he's not the only one who's been paying attention.
Caroline smirks at him, lining him up with her entrance and sinking down in one smooth drop. She settles her hips against his, rolling them slightly and bringing her hands up to tug at her nipples. Klaus' eyes grow dark and he moves underneath her, restless and tense. "Something you wanted?" Caroline asks, clenching down around his cock.
His eyelids flutter, jaw tight. "Move," he grits out.
Caroline shrugs her shoulders, widens her eyes, pretends to think about it. "I suppose I could. But I don't want to hurt you so I guess…" she leans back, planting her hand on his thighs and several rough curses fall from Klaus.
The angle is freaking amazing for her too, and she can't help but do what he'd asked, pulling off of him and then falling back quickly, moaning as she does it. He begins to move with her, his feet on the floor giving him leverage. She begins to sweat as she works above him, her hair curling around her temples, straining to reach another peak. "Klaus," she gasps out. "Klaus, please."
He surges up, wraps her legs around his waist, one of his hands on her ass pulling her into the harsh snaps of his hips. She wants to protest, sure that they're just lodging the remaining wood in deeper, but she can't bring herself to care when he grabs her hand, directing it between them. She doesn't need prompting, her fingers flying over her clit until she cries out, spine bowing as she quivers against him.
Klaus' hoarse exhalation of her name as he shudders follows quickly after, and he falls back to the bed, rolling them to the side. They pant together quietly for long moments, his hands in her hair. Caroline finds herself cringing, as her hand tentatively drops to his lower stomach, finding the wounds that still remain. "And that," she tells him, as she gingerly traces his skin, "is why I thought that was a bad idea."
Klaus' chuckle is low, and he rolls back, groping for the tweezers. "It's fine, sweetheart. Worth it, I'd say." He hands them to her, a pleased smile on his face.
Caroline finds herself smiling back as she sits up, telling herself it's time to get back to the business at hand. "I'm going to finish this. Then blood. Shower. Bed," she tells him firmly.
"Counter offer: You finish up. We shower together. I drink from you, you drink from me. Ideally while I'm fucking you in said shower. Then bed."
"To sleep," Caroline declares firmly. Because she might be caving, but she doesn't have to cave on everything.
Klaus shrugs, licks his lips, eyes bright with a challenge, "If you can keep your hands off of me, have at it, love."
She's maybe a little meaner when she needs to be when he hands her back the tweezers.