#'here you go hope you can carry this bag of veg with your claws have a nice day'

[lalainajanes]

I picked some of my faves from the prompt lists I reblogged earlier. This one is based on: “I came to your house for a sleepover but you weren’t here your house was trashed and when I found you again the next day you were naked and without any recognitions of what had happened” werewolf au because I am a sucker for a wolf!fic.

Under The New Sun

Klaus has come prepared and approaches Caroline’s front door armed with coffee (black for him, caramel syrup laden monstrosity for her). He’s also got bag full of donuts because he’s planning on starting a difficult conversation he figures Caroline might find ‘By the way, I’m a werewolf’ easier to swallow if she’s stuffed with sugar and chocolate.

It was overly optimistic, a sure sign of Caroline’s effect on him. And while he wasn’t banking on her taking the news without blinking he did rather think she was fond enough of him to keep an open mind. They’d known one another for months now, surely she’d accept him? That’s what he’d been telling himself. Truthfully, he hadn’t allowed himself to contemplate a world in which she couldn’t be won over. Caroline had come to mean a great deal to him and Klaus wasn’t one to let go of people he considered his.

He come to assume it was part of his nature though he’d had very little contact with other werewolves.

Klaus glances up when he reaches the porch, his muscles locking as he takes Caroline’s open front door. The coffee and the food hit the pavement, immediately forgotten, and he takes the steps at a near sprint, panic clawing at him.

He barreling through the doorway and calling her name, doesn’t even wince as the door slams into the wall. His alarm grows as he takes in the mess inside. He’s been a frequent visitor to Caroline’s home these last few months. Initially it had been pristine, the sort of clean that you’re afraid to eat in for fear of marring it. She’d relaxed as they’d gotten to know one another, left things slightly askew – a hamper of laundry left out here, an untidy stack of magazines there - and Klaus has spent many an evening comfortably eating takeout and arguing about Netflix selections in Caroline’s living room.

Something that’s going to be difficult to do again given the state of the place.

Caroline’s couch is on its side, wood frame exposes and split, spilling stuffing across the wood floors. The coffee table and rug are shoved across the room and it looks like the wall’s been dented from the impact. Her bookshelf hadn’t survived either and there’s a mass of planks and books and dvds strewn about.

It takes him a second to be able to think straight, the terror tightening his chest difficult to breathe through. When he does his other senses, sharper than a human’s, clue him into what had happened. There’s a distinct scent in the air, that of a wolf other than him, and nothing underneath it to suggest that anyone unfamiliar to Klaus has been in the room recently.  His fear shifts, changes, a heavy dose of dread sinking into him.

He’d never meant to scratch her, had been so relieved when it seemed like she’d remained unafflicted. He loathes that he’d been wrong, that he’d missed the signs at that she must have been dealing with changing on her own. He remembers how awful that had been, how confused and scared he’d been waking up alone with blank spaces in his memory and odd impossible images where the previous hours should have been. It’s gotten better, he’s learned to manage the pain of changing, can focus in his wolf form enough to process what’s happening and remember it later. If he hadn’t he might never have met Caroline while capable of standing on two feet and carrying on a conversation. And that would have been a tragedy. He hadn’t set out to save a damsel in distress that first night. Caroline had been on a camping trip (a girl’s weekend, he’d later gleaned, organized by her friend Elena who was fond of nature based pursuits) and had taken a midnight swim. She’d been caught in a riptide, only managing the faintest alarmed gurgles as she fought the currents. Klaus, in wolf form, had jumped in without a thought. She’d struggled at first and he’d bet that’s when he scratched her, but together they’d managed to get to safety. He’d waited long enough to see her cough up an alarming amount of lake water but, once he’d been assured she was breathing, he’d loped off into the woods.

He’d met her the next day at a gas station just outside of the national park Klaus preferred for full moons. They’d bickered over slurpees – Caroline seemed to think cramming every flavor into one cup was acceptable, Klaus disagreed – he’d learned her name, that she lived not far from him, all while her friends waffled over their snack selections.

He’d been able to engineer another meeting with a little careful Facebook snooping. It was only responsible, he’d told himself at the time. She’d been had a bandage on her arm and it was entirely possible he’d infected her.

He’d found her to be as engaging as she was lovely, hadn’t even considered terminating the friendship they’d struck up once a full moon seemed to have passed without incident.

And wasn’t that was fortunate now?

Giving the room one last once over Klaus spies the fleece blanket that usually sits along the back of the couch wadded up in a corner. He retrieves it, shakes it out as best he can, and tosses it over his shoulder. Klaus ignores the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, the shakiness of his limbs.

His anxiety isn’t important now, only Caroline is. He has no hope for acceptance, not when he’s ruined her life but he refuses to dwell on that. He’s got to find her and ensure that she’s safe. He’ll do his best to explain what he knows of werewolves, answer any questions she might have and, knowing Caroline, there’s an endless list.

Once he’s achieved that and Caroline’s home, fed and warm, he’ll wallow in self-pity and recriminations over the knowledge that she hates him for what he’s done to her.

Caroline shifts, feels damp grass and various stones and twigs digging into her skin. “Ugh,” she groans, cracking her eyes open. “This part is always gonna suck.” 

The clearing is familiar, it’s not far from her house and she’d always thought it would make a killer romantic picnic spot. Now, waking up naked and filthy in the center of it, for the fourth time, she can’t really appreciate it’s picturesqueness in quite the same way.

Besides, while she actually has a decent picnic partner prospect she’s really going to need to figure out how to explain the recent freaky turns her life has taken before she makes a move. Hopefully in a way that wouldn’t lead him to run away screaming and never speak to her again.

Klaus was too damn observant for Caroline’s comfort and she’d been taking great pains to appear normal in front of him. She counted her bites of food, mindful of how it looked, and prayed her stomach wouldn’t give away her always starving state. She held her breath whenever he was too near so she wouldn’t be distracted by his scent. She did what she could to prepare, had taken to buying steaks in bulk so she could binge after he left. She did her best to fight the strange insistent urges she’d been having lately, pinched herself every time she considered climbing into Klaus’ lap and sinking her teeth into his skin until he wore her mark prominently.

They hadn’t even been on a date. Biting would totally freak him out. She needed to get a handle on things, figure out how the whole werewolf thing worked, before she even attempted to flirt with him. She’d noticed her senses sharpening incrementally each month, slight increases in her strength and stamina. Apparently that would continue but would eventually plateau. She just had to wait for it all to level out.

Patience wasn’t Caroline’s strong suit but she was determined. What if she broke him in the heat of the moment? Caroline would never forgive herself.

She pushes herself up, rolls her neck to the side and grimaces at the audible cracking of her bones. She gets to her feet easily, brushing off what she can, humming softly to herself.

The first time this had happened she’s been too bewildered to appreciate the afterglow of her impromptu nude nature fugue – the energy buzzing through her, making her blood rush and her skin tingle. Getting home that morning had been a bitch and she’d thanked her lucky stars that it had been a Sunday and her neighborhood deserted. Sneaking in through her back fence she’d been annoyed to find it broken, puzzled to see her glass of wine and tablet still on the lounge chair she’d settled into the previous night. After a stressful week she’d been happy to just veg, enjoy the summer night with a book that was a little on the trashy side. She’d remembered sipping that first glass but little after and the bottle was still mostly full when she’d checked it.

It was then, in familiar surroundings, that she’d taken note of how clear-headed she was. She’d felt like she could have brokered world peace, run a marathon and charmed her way into the pants of a famous Chris or two. She’d felt like Alice, had even muttered, “Curious and curiouser.”

A car engine had sounded somewhere on her block and she’d been jolted into action (and out of talking to herself like a crazy person), and Caroline had hurried inside, making a beeline for the shower. While lathering she’d kicked into planning mode, resolved to do some research, and made a mental not to make an appointment with her doctor on Monday.

She’d made up a story about blacking out and waking up outside and her doctor had ordered some tests. She’d passed each one with flying colors – her blood pressure was even down a little – and had walked out with a recommendation to try a sleep study if she found herself being troubled by nocturnal wanderings again.

When it had happened a second time Caroline had turned to the internet. And her google-fu was strong enough to open up a whole new world.

Werewolves, it turned out, were totally a thing. With a thriving Tumblr community and all sorts of secret message boards. She’d made some internet friends, skirted the ‘woe is me, I am a hideous monster cursed to wander the earth alone and unloved’ factions.

From what Caroline had experienced so far the pros outweighed the cons. She needs less sleep so her productivity is through the roof. She’s burning calories like an Olympic athlete without having to set foot in the gym, indulging in Ben and Jerry’s nightly. She’s been careful about planning her full moons, recognizing that she could easily hurt someone. Caroline didn’t want that, she been diligently meditating and hoped to be able to accelerate the process of learning control. In the meantime she’d called in a couple of tips about wolf sightings to animal control and they’d been posting bulletins warning hikers and campers to be cautious. She’d taken to hiking in her free time, scoping out signs other humans were around, found the areas closest to her house that were free of campfire and litter, enough so that she felt safe indulging in the urge to run free.

Last night had been a misstep, she’d cut it way too close, one that couldn’t happen again. Hopefully the pain of checking her credit card balance, after she replaced her trashed living room furniture, would serve as a reminder.

It’ll suck but hey, redecorating could be fun? Maybe she’d go for a bolder wall color. And Klaus was into art, teased her about the prints she’d had since college, so she could possible test the waters and finagle something pre-date like by getting him to offer to help her.

She couldn’t jump his bones just yet but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy his company.

A rustling in the distance causes Caroline to still and she darts over to the tree she’d stashed a few things in. The bundle is tied to a branch, tucked close to the trunk and she quickly rips it down, shaking out the hopelessly wrinkled sundress it contained.

She wasn’t exactly presentable but untidy was way better than naked when meeting strangers, right? Less crazy and alarming and unlikely to result in a call to the authorities.

Explaining a citation for public indecency to her mom was not something Caroline wanted to have to do. Once clothed she listens carefully, ducks down to yank up a couple wildflowers. She tucks a few behind her ear before glancing around for some more, mentally rehearsing words that will make her sound like a crunchy granola type (which would hopefully explain the lack of shoes). She’s got her back to the approaching person. She can tell from the footsteps that it’s just one, she’s not the least bit alarmed. Even before she’d become what she is now, stronger and faster and potentially more lethal than any human, she’d been well versed in self-defense courtesy of her parents.

Caroline’s relaxed, resumes humming, only the notes fade away as the approaching person’s pace quickens, she whirls when she feels them near her, eyes widening when she sees Klaus. He looks relieved, and scared and sad and about a dozen other things that she doesn’t have time to register before he’s touching her, hands urgent as they skim over her arms. He’s gentle, his eyes scanning over her critically, “You’re alright?” he asks, “No injuries?”

“I’m fine,” she tells him, confused. What was he even doing here? “What…”

Klaus tugs her into him, cupping the back of her neck and bending to rest his forehead on her shoulder. He mutters words of thanks, jumbled and reverent, before pulling back, his face tight with strain. “I am so, so sorry, love. I will do anything I can to make this better. I promise.”

Caroline’s confusion only grows. He’s tense against her, his expression filled with resignation. Her mouth falls open, a demand for an explanation on the tip of her tongue. “Klaus, what? Make what…”

Her questions fall away when she inhales, breath stuttering out in one big woosh. She has a lot of feelings about the way Klaus smells and she’s been careful not to think on them too deeply. She appreciates how he wears just the right hint of cologne, has come to love the way his scent lingers on her couch after they’ve been on a Netflix binge. It’s clean, a little earthy, equal parts comforting and prone to send little tendrils of need pooling in her belly.

It’s different today, all store bought fragrance absent. It’s just his skin, and Caroline knows. He’s like her.

She can’t break him.

She doesn’t even think about it, just lets her instincts guide her. Her hands have been hanging loosely at her sides, unsure of how to deal with the sudden, uncharacteristic, physical affection from Klaus. He’s always kept a careful distance between them, even when Caroline’s caught him checking her out. She gets it now. He’s been fighting the same desires she has.

Her hands reach out, sliding under fabric, searching for the heat of him. His muscles twitch under her palm, a ragged inhale ruffling the hair at her temple. “Caroline,” he rasps out, “What…”

She shakes her head, presses her mouth to his throat. She tastes his skin, humming with the pleasure of it, relishing the throaty noise Klaus makes. She nips, he jolts, his grip on her tightening even as she pulls away to look at him, “I want you. I want you so much and I didn’t think I could have you.”

He wants to argue, Caroline can tell, sees him try to fight the haze of need that’s washing over them.

She’s not willing to let him, not when her heart’s thrumming in anticipation and everything in her screaming that this is right. Her dress is easy enough to lose, as floaty and insubstantial as it is. A quick tug and the thin straps snap and it’s pooled around her ankles. Klaus grits out a harsh curse as she rubs against him, moaning as she seeks to get as close as possible, her nails digging into his back as her hips push against his.

When his teeth sink into her bare shoulder Caroline knows she’s won.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #I gave myself 45 minutes BUT OF COURSE that failed