A/N: So, this was supposed to be another contribution to klarolineauweek on tumblr, but obviously, I'm late on that, and therefore this will just be another short, random oneshot. I suppose it's also considered a drabble, sort of, and this is a prompt from my best friend sneakercladbrunette on tumblr, who got the idea after re-watching The OC for the millionth time.

Enjoy!

xXx
CeruleanBlues

Breathless

The question came unexpectedly one evening during their regular game night in his apartment. She was slaying him in Halo, as usual, and the momentary pause of his fingers was enough to cost him a victory. Setting the controller down on the coffee table, Caroline Forbes turned to properly face him, patiently waiting with raised eyebrows and folded arms.

Klaus Mikaelson got the first prickling signs of cold sweat on the back of his neck. He sifted through the million and one reasons whizzing around in his head for a decent explanation that wouldn't serve to fuel his discomfort, and honestly, it wasn't that he didn't want his girlfriend seeing his works, but it was rather private; a part of him that was just his, without anybody's harsh judgments or scathing remarks, not that she was any of that. If anything, she was probably the kindest and most compassionate person he had ever met; a ray of sunshine in his mundane life.

"Well?" she pressed on. "You spend like half your waking hours glued to your pencils and sketchbooks, and I swear, you would probably sleep with them if you could. So why won't you show them to me?"

He floundered for a response, succeeding only in making a rather pathetic squeak.

Her piercing cornflower blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You don't have naked drawings of me in there, do you? Or worse, naked drawings of other girls? Oh, my God, is that it? Is that the reason you won't let me see them?"

"What, no," he blurted out, because that would be devastating, especially after the three years it took her to finally notice his existence. "I promise, no explicit or nude drawings of any kind."

"So then, why are you being so secretive about it?" she asked, her words slightly laced with hurt, and that adorable pout was all it took for his resolve to crumble like pixie dust. Bloody hell, the things this woman could do to him; she would undoubtedly be his untimely death.

"It's just—" he sighed before nervously clearing his throat. "I've never really shown my sketches to anybody."

She lifted her legs and plopped her feet in his lap. His hands automatically began kneading her left sole, like he had done a hundred times before. "What are you talking about? I've seen most of your stuff. In fact, don't you work as an illustrator for a comic book company?"

"Yeah, but that's different," he muttered.

"Different?" she echoed. "Different how?"

He shrugged. "Those works are for other people, someone else's stories, but my sketchbooks are mine and mine alone."

If our love was a fairy tale
I would charge in and rescue you
On a yacht baby we would sail
To an island where we'd say I do

Caroline was a paralegal, and entirely too smart to be one, so he wasn't surprised when it dawned on her what the root of his problem was. "You think I'm going to make fun of you."

"No," he stalled; drawing out the vowel, even though his efforts to deny the truth was futile at best. Clearly, she was a mind reader too, this infuriating woman full of strength and light. "Fine, truthfully, I'm—I'm just afraid you wouldn't like it."

"Why wouldn't I like it?"

Very gently, he placed her feet back down onto the lush carpet, dreading the unpleasant conversation that was bound to follow, but knowing it was inevitable. Perhaps in her good mood, Caroline wouldn't impose too much bodily harm to his person. She was a black belt in karate, after all. Sheepishly peering up at her with his best puppy dog eyes, Klaus reluctantly confessed.

"Because the stories are about you."

She continued staring at him, an unreadable expression on her angelic features as she gnawed on her bottom lip, turning it into an enticing shade of red. He longed to take it between his teeth and taste it on his tongue, to kiss her and never let go.

And if we had babies they would look like you
It'd be so beautiful if that came true
You don't even know how very special you are

"Really?"

His heated gaze snapped up to meet hers and grew darker at the breathless quality in those two syllables. She blushed, a hint of shyness he hadn't seen before overtaking her otherwise vibrant personality, and it was so endearing, he didn't think he could deny her anything at the moment.

"Do you want to have a look?" The offer was out of his mouth before his brain could catch up. "I mean, if you want—"

She blinked, surprised, but quickly nodded. "Yeah, sure, of course."

He swallowed down the lump lodged in his throat, and then realizing that there was no weaseling his way out of it, stiffly headed towards the bedroom that they had been sharing for over two months now. She rarely slept over—though it wasn't for the lack of trying to persuade her on his part—and sometimes he wondered if it was partly due to his fault, that perhaps his hesitation to fully open up to her was the reason why she hardly stayed the night. The sketchbooks were kept in the bedside drawer, and he picked the one on top; the most recent one, in fact. It felt like it weighed a ton in his hands, and he returned to the living room to find his blonde beauty fussing about in the kitchen.

"Some tea would be nice, don't you think?" she remarked cheerfully, and he simply had to love her even more for that. No matter what the situation, Caroline always just seemed to know what he needed, and quite honestly, she made some really good tea. Even though she constantly joked about it clearly being a British thing, Klaus knew that it had taken her an afternoon with his mother—insufferable as she was—learning to prepare the beverage to his preference.

"Sounds wonderful, love, thank you," he told her sincerely, padding back towards the couch. She joined him soon after with two steaming cups and handed one to him.

In desperate need of some comfort, Klaus took a greedy sip, only to wince at the scalding hot temperature before setting it down.

Caroline placed an assuring hand over his wrist, shooting him an empathetic smile. "Look, Klaus, you really don't have to show me if you don't want to," she said earnestly. "I won't be offended, I promise. I just don't want to force you into doing something you're not comfortable with."

Leaning in, Klaus reached up to cradle the side of her face, his fingers slipping into her silky golden waves as he swooped down and kissed her. It was sweet and chaste, barely enough to satiate his perpetual hunger for her, but it would do for now. Resting his forehead against hers, he murmured, "I want to."

"Okay."

"They're not all complete, and they might not be very good. You might even find some stories quite daft but…" he trailed off, and then swiftly slid the sketchbook into her capable hands before he had a chance of chickening out.

He watched in bated breath as she flipped the cover open and began to quietly peruse his works with the same focus she had when reading through case files. Her inscrutable expression gave nothing away, and he was starting to grow worried, that perhaps she would find his representation of her to be insulting or demeaning in any way.

You leave me breathless
You're everything good in my life

"You—you drew me as Wonder Woman?"

"A femme fatale, actually," he explained. "A kick-arse paralegal by day, and savior of mankind by night."

She laughed in a disparaging manner. "I'm hardly a super hero, Klaus."

"You've saved me from myself a couple of times."

They shared an intimate moment, exchanging significant glances that spoke of volumes without uttering a single word.

You leave me breathless
I still can't believe that you're mine

When she had first met him, Klaus had been living with his older brother, Elijah, mooching off his food and brooding about his cheating ex-girlfriend. Caroline had arrived with Rebekah, in need of some legal advice for a dissertation that she had been working on, and it took all of two seconds to notice his evidently intoxicated condition to turn her off completely. He later learned from his sister that Caroline's father had been killed a year back by a drunk driver, and then she became his motivation to clean up his act.

"You know what," she tore her eyes away to revert her attention back to his sketches. "These are amazing, Klaus, honestly. You should publish them. I know a lot of people who would love to read your stories."

There was only one person in the world, however, whose opinion mattered the most to him.

You just walked out of one of my dreams
So beautiful you're leaving me
Breathless

"What about you?"

Her grin grew coquettish, though she was no less genuine in her reply.

"I think I already love it the most."

She barged in two days later draped in a charcoal-colored trench coat and knee-high leather boots, and marched right in front of his line of vision, effectively thwarting his plans to catch up on his third re-watch of Game of Thrones.

"Hello, love," he crooned, dimples appearing as he smirked at her choice of attire. "Did you just finish your shift spying on that highly suspicious neighbor of yours? A beanie would make you look a bit more inconspicuous, don't you think?"

With arms akimbo, blonde curls cascading over her shoulders and lips a deep shade of rouge, Caroline struck quite an intimidating figure in the middle of his living room, even if he found it incredibly arousing. He loved a good bout of role-play like every other male specimen on earth, and that one time she had dressed up in her high school cheerleading outfit and purred in his ear that she had been a very naughty girl, that please Mr. Mikaelson, she would gladly receive her punishment, had him beaming like a right idiot for the rest of the week.

"I have some notes about my character in your story," she informed him. "I'm not exactly a fan of capes, and that crown thing has to go."

"Duly noted."

"And no tight spandex skirts," she added, toying with the belt around her waist. "It's not practical if I have to go round jumping over rooftops and chasing after evil villains."

Klaus felt the stirrings in his crotch and his manhood twitching in his pants at the picture she had painted; a detailed fantasy he had built up over the years. The spike in the room's temperature made him gulp.

"Done," he agreed. "Do you already have something in mind, sweetheart? A bit of…visual aid would help tremendously."

The knot was deftly untied, and his eyes followed the way her fingers deliberately lingered on each plastic button, circling it before slipping it through the hole. One by one, she popped it open, and then the garment fell open, and Klaus' jaw dropped at the scintillating sight. A rush of air left his lungs, leaving a tightness in his chest and in his trousers, too afraid to blink, lest it was just a figment of his overactive imagination.

A black leather halter-neck corset snugly encased her torso. It was zipped down the middle with elbow-length sleeves and side panel buckles, accentuating her slender curves and ending right atop the arc of her breasts. Her skin-hugging tights clung onto her long, toned legs like wet paint, and a belt completed the ensemble.

She was magnificent, an epitome of a vigilante.

And if our love was a story book
We would meet on the very first page
The last chapter would be about
How I'm thankful for the life we've made

If he self-combusted that very second and died, he would go a happy man.

"So, what do you think?"

He could barely even remember his own name.

"Bloody hell," he choked out. "Yes, that—that's perfect."

Caroline preened, visibly satisfied by his reaction, and then seemed to realize what his blatant ogling really meant, noticing the subtle way he shifted in his seat, or how he was fighting to resist the undeniable urge to methodically peel each layer off her until she was standing before him, as naked as the day she was born.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

She tilted her head, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Aren't you going to draw me, or something?"

Fortunately, his sketchbook and pencil were already within reach. He snatched them up eagerly and flipped to a fresh page.

"How'd you like me to pose, Klaus?"

He ran his tongue over his dry lips as he began a rough outline. For years now he had been drawing her; he could probably do so in his sleep. "However makes you comfortable."

"That would mean for me to be sprawled out on your bed now, wouldn't it?"

The pencil cluttered to the floor, the sketchbook following suit. He was out of the sofa and on his feet in a flash, climbing over the coffee table to present himself within inches of her nose. Those sinful lips of hers were curled up in a smirk, the thought that she knew exactly what she was doing to him spurred the fire simmering in his stomach.

And if we had babies they would have your eyes
I would fall deeper watching you give life
You don't even know how very special you are

What a devious minx.

"My bed, huh?" he purred, twirling a lock of her hair around his index finger.

"I'm just saying—"

He silenced her, dipped his head and captured her succulent lips between his; kissing her the way he had wanted to the instant she stepped into the apartment. Circling his arms around her waist, he pulled her close, the leather unrelenting under his touch, and he wondered if she was suffocating from all the restrictions. She parted her mouth beneath his and his tongue ventured in, tasting the minty sweetness of gum that she loved to chew as his hands wandered down to caress the firm globes of her rear before giving them a well-deserving squeeze.

"Klaus!" she squealed, giggling as he scooped her up and wrapped her legs around his tapered hips. "What about your comic?"

"I can draw you from memory," he said huskily and deposited her amongst his ivory-colored sheets.

For a moment, he stopped and simply stared, devouring the image of her spread out for him, chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale and exhale, flushed and wanton, her hair fanned out and lips swollen, looking so ravishing in that costume, he was already regretting the choice to see them go if the result weren't so much more enticing. Taking the bottom of his Henley in his grasp, Klaus lifted it over his head and carelessly tossed it aside, watching as her eyes darkened with unbridled lust.

"No, wait," she murmured when his hands were set to work on his pants.

His forehead crinkled. "What's wrong?"

"Go fetch your sketchbook and pencil," she instructed. "I want you to draw me with my mouth around you."

Oh, fuck.

He stumbled into the living room, almost tripping over his own two feet and scrambled to locate the fallen items. When he returned, Caroline was already on her knees at the edge of the bed, beckoning him forward with a crook of her finger. Sitting back on her haunches, her face was leveled with his pelvis, her nose dangerously close to his clothed erection now throbbing painfully in his boxer briefs. His breath hitched when she undid the button holding his trousers up and lowered the zipper, her knuckles brushing against his hardened bulge. Then, very slowly, keeping her heated gaze trained on his face, she reached in and casually pulled his rigid shaft out.

"You ready?" she whispered against his engorged tip.

His fingers fumbled clumsily with the pencil, his left hand clutching the top corner of the book, his forearm used as a support, and then he was nodding. "Have at it, sweetheart."

You leave me breathless
You're everything good in my life

There was no easing into it, no teasing or foreplay before he was completely engulfed in her mouth. He hissed, eyelashes fluttering at the blissful sensation, her naughty tongue swirling around his length as she moaned. A shiver ran up his spine, the pleasure exploding in small bursts, and then she was moving, and he very nearly shot off, a string of rich expletives tumbling past his lips.

And then it was gone.

"Klaus…"

He tipped his head down, blinking away the bright spots to find Caroline frowning up at him.

"What's wrong, love?"

"How are you supposed to draw me if you're not even looking?"

Because he knew that it would all be over fairly quickly if he did.

"Caroline, I don't think you comprehend how difficult it is to concentrate, much less do anything else when you're going down on me like that."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you can multi-task."

"Yes, but—" He sucked in a sharp intake of air as she once again enveloped his pulsing member in her warm cavern. Before he could think otherwise, his eyes snapped down to where she was watching him with a raised eyebrow, silently threatening to stop if he didn't get on with his assigned task.

You leave me breathless
I still can't believe that you're mine

So he began sketching, fingers trembling, his lines slightly unstable, and he would probably refine them later on, but right at that moment, he realized that he desperately wanted to capture her every expression in minute detail and have it framed over his headboard. His hand flew across the page in confident strokes, taking in everything, from her hypnotic blue eyes to her plump lips, to the enticing swell of her breasts and her slender hands sheathing the base of his sex, to the way her cheeks hollowed out and her head bopped; she was his dirty dreams brought to life. He was perspiring; beads of sweat dotting the back of his neck and trickling down his temple as he battled to focus on his drawing while trying to stave off his impending release.

"I'm done," he announced, voice full of gravel.

"Good."

He pounced then, knocking her back onto the mattress, the sketchbook and pencil immediately forgotten, and raced to peel off those dreadful layers concealing the soft skin beneath. Her boots landed on the carpet with heavy thuds, and then began the torturous duty of stripping yards of material that seemed intent on staying glued to her body. Caroline, for her part, seemed relatively amused by his struggle, laughing as she wriggled around to assist him somewhat.

You just walked out of one of my dreams
So beautiful you're leaving me
Breathless

"Sweetheart, I'm very tempted to grab a pair of scissors right now and snip off every bit of this leather," he growled when the tights wouldn't budge past her knees. "Shit, you know what, fuck it. Roll over onto your stomach."

She obliged without question, and as soon as she was in the prone position, Klaus took her by the waist and lifted her up on her hands and knees. A delighted hum resonated in her throat as she arched her back, still bound by the corset. Her derriere was high up in the air, looking so inviting, and he couldn't wait to feel the milky flesh in his palms. He tore the scrap of lace passing off as a sad excuse for underwear and groaned at the sight that greeted him. Glistening, her folds coated with the evidence of her arousal, she was absolutely stunning. Unable to wait any longer, he lined himself up at her slicked entrance and plunged in.

"Klaus!" she gasped, and the sound of his name uttered in such reverence sparked a fresh wave of desire coursing through his veins. His hands closed around her mounds, kneading and massaging, and then grunted as she rocked back against him, prompting him to move.

He did so without hesitation, pumping enthusiastically, hips snapping in a steady rhythm as her cries echoed off the walls in the throes of passion. Every thrust elicited varying levels of ecstasy, escalating to soaring heights that could only be satiated by the culmination of their impending climaxes. Her inner muscles clenched around him, gloved him like velvet iron, and he knew that she was close. Bending over, he snaked an arm around her and found the sacred bundle of nerves.

"You ready to come for me, love?"

Her reply came in a form of a needy whimper and a wordless plea, but it was all Klaus needed to hear. He pressed down on her delicate nub the same time he plundered in, and the sound it tore from her sent him careening over the edge, spilling into her with one final push. He caught himself as they collapsed together, propping his weight up on his forearms so that he wouldn't crush her smaller frame, panting as he tried to even out his racing pulse.

"Did you seriously finish the sketch?"

Klaus allowed a smirk to grace his features. "That I did."

She rolled over onto her back, gazing up at him as she traced the line of his jaw with her index finger. "What character are you in the comic?"

You must have been sent from heaven to earth to change me
You're like an angel
The thing that I feel is stronger than love believe me
You're something special

He shrugged as best as he could in the position. "I don't have one."

Her brows furrowed. "Why not?"

"What character would I be?"

Caroline drew a line down his sternum, mulling through her options. "You're the anti-hero."

Perplexed, he canted his head to the side. "And why, pray tell, would you see me as such?"

I only hope that I'll one day deserve what you've given me
But all I can do is try
Every day of my life

"Because you're the guy who tries to seduce the hero and yet be completely anti-social at parties and office gatherings; you're not gleaming with honorary medals for saving helpless little cats in the tress, but you don't stand for injustice either. You almost beat the crap out of Damon Salvatore that one time he made an inappropriate comment towards me—"

"The sod deserved it."

"The righteous superheroes would disagree," she snickered. "Harming defenseless citizens and all, even though you would call it a befitting punishment."

"So, I'm The Punisher? Or the Ghost Rider? Deadpool, perhaps?"

She hooked her thumbs around his belt loops and tugged his pelvis down to meet hers. "I think I'm going to call you The Hybrid. Best of both worlds."

You leave me breathless
You're everything good in my life
You leave me breathless
I still can't believe that you're mine

He bumped her nose with his, reveling in her radiant beauty. Her bright smile, her indistinguishable light, her clear blue eyes. The love he had for this woman far bypassed anything else in the world, his heart so full of emotions for her, they threatened to spill over.

You just walked out of one of my dreams
So beautiful you're leaving me
Breathless

"I think I like the sound of that."

A/N: The end! Maybe we'll just call this a Halloween-themed oneshot, just because Caroline was in a costume and all that. Did anybody remember that scene between Seth and Summer in The OC where he had to draw her in a costume, and then he tried to teach her how to draw and then it became intense, but they pulled away before they kissed? Yeah, those were the days…

Song used: "Breathless" by Shayne Ward