Notes: To celebrate 100 chapters and 138 (I think) little fic universes I'm reposting this one! Originally for klarolineauweek Day Six! AU: Myths and Legends. I had taken it down to play with it as an original thing but the Supernatural Tinder aspect kind of became pretty minor. Plus, several lovely people seemed disappointed to find it gone. I added a bit and I hope everyone enjoys!
Sometime Around Midnight
(Prompt: From the kink list prompts. "26 & 40 from the prompt list please :)))" [wing!kink, one night stand] My mind went to Tinder for supernatural creatures. Title from "Sometime Around Midnight" by The Airborne Toxic Event. SMUT).
On the subway Caroline hooks one arm around the bar she's leaning against and fishes her phone out of her bag. She'd been hoping that leaving work later than usual, the sun in the process of setting, meant she would actually get a seat but no such luck. She glances around but none of her fellow commuters seem to be paying her any mind. She has a privacy screen protector on her phone but it doesn't hurt to be careful. She'd had a long day and the last thing she wants to deal with is judgemental nonsense from a nosy parker who saw her browsing dating profiles.
The 21st century has a lot of things going for it but there's still plenty of weirdness surrounding the concept that women actually like sex. Caroline supposes that (usually silent) condemnation and the occasional 'slut' cough is preferable to getting burned at the stake, or sent to an asylum, but would it kill humanity to progress just a little bit faster?
Caroline casts one last furtive glance around before clicking on the app – a clever bit of technology. Benign on the surface its exorbitant price and bland description discourages most from purchasing it. With a code, obtained through word of mouth, you could get it for a more reasonable sum. Well, relatively speaking. The humans had all sorts of free options to meet partners online but a goblin had developed this particular app and they weren't a race to turn down the opportunity to make a profit. Caroline had been willing to pay the $49 (and another $14.99 monthly, provided she got some results) to not have to hide who she was.
Dating norms gets tricky. Sometimes she forgets to act like she's the age her driver's licence proclaims her to be and that often weirds dates out. She's a Selkie and that means her love life is subject to certain limitations. She is allowed one night with a partner, no more. She'd tried the whole dating thing but it always got complicated once she'd begun to feel things. Knowingly setting herself up for heartbreak got old, and painful, so Caroline has resolved to keep her romantic attachments super casual. She's always up front about it, ensuring no one gets hurt, and she's mostly gotten used to it. It does kind of sting to run into a guy she'd spent the night with and have him look through her like she didn't exist.
She tries not to take it personally. It's just magic, beyond her control.
When Kat had told her about the dating app Caroline had been intrigued. With a code supernatural creatures got the true app, and all its assorted features. Anyone silly enough to purchase it without the code was treated to some truly moronic self-help drivel. Caroline had downloaded it, put together a profile, and hoped for the best.
She's met up with two of her matches so far but they'd both been duds. A Kappa lifeguard she'd had coffee with had been sweet, funny over text, but there'd been zero spark when they'd met in person. The Leprechaun writer she'd had dinner with last weekend had been even worse. No social skills whatsoever and he'd had the nerve to ask if she'd like to come back to his place after shutting down all of her attempts at conversation with one word answers.
If she was limited to one night she wasn't going to waste her time with someone with subpar communication skills.
Still, Caroline wasn't a quitter. She had friends who'd had great luck. Bonnie seemed smitten with the mystery guy she'd met and had begun seeing (Caroline was giving her another week of enjoying her honeymoon period before she was going to execute the full court press for info) and Katherine swore by it though, as a half-succubus, she was bound to like anything that meant easy meals. Just this morning, on her way into work, Caroline had sent a message to a guy she'd thought had potential (Niklaus, species unknown, an artist with spectacular dimples). He's significantly older than she is but Caroline figures age is just a number after one's first century or so.
There'd been no immediate reply and she'd had a busy morning. By her lunch break, still nothing, and she'd felt a little rejected. Intellectually, she's known it was silly to be disappointed with the lack of response (but maybe she should mix up her profile pictures?). She'd shaken off the self-doubt and treated herself to a cupcake. There were almost 3000 profiles in total, she'd told herself, and so what if hers didn't do it for him? There were plenty of other fish in the sea and there was always the option of dipping her feet back into the human dating pool.
She blinks in surprise upon seeing that Niklaus has replied, only about ten minutes before. Well, he'd certainly taken his sweet time, hadn't he?
Her message had been short, flirty but not too forward – "So, you're an artist? Kind of intimidating. I love Pictionary but I don't believe in losing. It's a flaw but I've accepted it."
His reply had been a good match in tone, "Competitive? What a coincidence, so am I. Sorry about the late reply, love. I'm a bit nocturnal. Would you like to get a drink tonight and see what else we have in common?"
Caroline bites her lip and considers. He gets points for not immediately making it sexual – sadly too common in her experience. Another few for apologizing and explaining even if he hadn't needed to. He texts using capitals and punctuation. And he's really hot. What does she have to lose? She types a quick affirmative, names one of her favorite bars. It's a regular girl's night hangout, owned by a witch friend of Bonnie's. If he turns out to be a creep she'll have help in making an exit and she could totally find someone to spell him an uncomfortable rash in a delicate area. Maybe that would make him rethink his creepiness.
Or, best case scenario, maybe the third time really is the charm and they'll hit it off.
His reply comes quickly, "I know it. 8?"
Anticipatory butterflies start up in her stomach as she taps out her answer, "See you then!"
She'd had just enough time to go home and change into something date appropriate – a long sleeved royal blue dress that would have been demure if not for the way it clung to her every curve. It has the added benefit of hiding most of her markings. Humans tended to stare, assuming that she had some kind of skin disease. She's gotten over being annoyed – it's not like they could possibly ever guess that she can shapeshift into a seal. Bonnie does her glamours for free but the ingredients can get expensive – especially out of season - so Caroline uses them sparingly, forgoing an evening dose whenever possible. Leaving her hair loose obscures the dark markings on her neck and she figures it'll be too dark for any of the spots on her thighs to be noted if her dress rides up when she sits.
Caroline makes small talk with Gloria at the bar for a few minutes before ordering a drink and claiming a table with a good view of the door. Sometimes photo's lie – especially when magic is easy to buy – and she reserves the right to bolt if her date's the type to pull a bait and switch.
She has no problems with dating someone who isn't conventionally pretty, knows that many supernatural folk only look human as a means to blend. Hell, her personal trainer is a Troll and she's awesome. Caroline just happens to believe in full disclosure. Her pictures display her spots, her profile names her as a Selkie, and she's upfront when anyone asks just what that meant.
Niklaus' profile hadn't said what he is but that's not a deal breaker. Some beings like to ease into that talk. It can be a sensitive subject, particularly among the very young or the recently changed, but it isn't uncommon for older creatures to have hang ups or lingering bitterness about what they are. Casting curses to change a human into something else is frowned upon in most witch circles these days but it occasionally happens when a witch goes rogue.
There's no guarantee a born supernatural embraces being different either, and sometimes it's an unwelcome shock. Family trees are funny things, and bloodlines intermingle. Genetics are tricky. Sometimes a gene popped up and an assumed human began exhibiting fae traits for the first time in generations.
Since she has no way of knowing Niklaus' specific situation she'll wait for him to tell her.
Caroline tries not to look too eager, attempts to people watch and not stare at the entrance. She takes care to sip her drink slowly, doesn't want to use alcohol to soothe her nerves. Her eyes are inevitably drawn by every tinkle of the bells above the door, she pushes up slightly to see if the newcomer is the guy she's waiting for each time. A few minutes before 8 the door opens again and Caroline's head snaps in that direction. She sees him before he sees her and she takes the opportunity to study him. His black peacoat looks well-made and she kind of covets the soft looking gray scarf wrapped around his neck. He sweeps the matching beanie off his head revealing tousled dark blonde curls and yep, his pictures totally do him justice. She waits for him to turn in her direction and lifts her hand in a wave, offering him a smile.
He returns it and makes his way over to her, winding his way through the crowd. Caroline hops off her stool when he's near and holds out her hand. She's surprised when he bends over it, brushing his full lips over her knuckles in a gesture that should be cheesy but somehow totally works.
Must be the amount of practice he's had. His profile puts his age at 800+ so she imagines he's made a maiden or two swoon in his day.
Seriously, Caroline's far from prone to the vapours but she feels a little giddy in his presence, knows her cheeks are slightly pink.
He straightens, a warm smile curling his mouth, "Pleasure to meet you, Caroline. You manage to be even lovelier that your pictures promised." His hands go to his scarf and he pulls it off. Caroline's hit with a familiar scent – herbs, the combination used in spells to conceal physical oddities. She smells it daily on herself, save for the days she lounges at home and doesn't see a single human. His mix is strong, and her interest is piqued.
"Thank you," she says, in response to his compliment. She settles herself back on her stool, "I don't see the point in lying. The whole point of the app is that we don't have to hide, right?"
"Is that a subtle demand for disclosure?" he asks, a flash of amusement in his eyes.
Caroline winces, realizing that yep, that might have come out a little snotty. "Not really?" she says. "If you're not comfortable telling me that's totally fine. As long as you're not one of those who are prone to get murder-y post coital. That I'm going to have to know so I can politely excuse myself and slip out the back door."
His brows rise, smirk growing. "Post coital? You see this date going well, then?"
Caroline rolls her eyes, "Oh, please, don't play coy. We both downloaded the app. Let's not act like we're unaware its main selling feature is its ability to facilitate hook ups. I'm so far 0 for 2 attempts and if this evening ends the same I'll survive. But if it doesn't… well, that's good too."
"I am inclined to agree, sweetheart."
She narrows her eyes, "That's not to say I'm a sure thing, mister. You've got hot going for you but I need a little personality too. Preferably not an awful one. So start talking."
He huffs out a laugh and Caroline supposes it's a good thing he seems to find her directness charming. She'd had a hell of a time hiding it over the course of her life. She simply doesn't bother now that she lives in a time and place where she could choose to wear 'bitch' as a badge of honor.
"My profile says Niklaus but I prefer Klaus. I am an artist, and I've painted under a variety of names over the years."
"Ooh, are you in any museums? I did an art history degree in the 60's. Would I have studied you?"
"Several. And most likely though I've usually been cast as tortured and reclusive. Hazard of not being able to do much in the daytime hours."
Caroline swirls the ice in her glass contemplatively, doing her very best not to jump on that little tidbit. It's difficult, her (sometimes obsessive) need to know things nagging at her. It's definitely a clue and she idly begins discarding possibilities.
"And what do you do, Caroline?"
She makes a face, "I'm in finance, at the moment. Lucrative but insanely boring. I'm totally going to have to pick something fun next time. Still, it's nice to have options. Women's professions were so limited. I thought my fingers would never recover after a century of being poked with sewing needles."
That launches into a discussion about fashion of all things. Klaus confesses to a great fondness for how simple men's attire has become, complains about how awful the days of needing assistance to get into a pair of perfectly fitted boots had been.
Caroline's eyes rove over the simple grey cotton shirt he wears, the buttons at the neck open to display a couple of necklaces that she's already decided she needs to get better look at later, and she silently agrees with him.
Besides, corsets had been no joke either.
She teases him about codpieces though he turns that right back on her, claiming that he'd never felt any need for any sort of embellishment. He makes her laugh, and they never have to grope for a topic of conversation.
It's… really nice. One of the best dates she's ever been on. She's rarely wished that she could have more than one night on such a short acquaintance but Klaus, his gentle teasing and biting wit, has Caroline lamenting her nature, that she'll never have another night to sit with him and listen to stories of his life. She'll never really know him and that strikes her as a shame.
Unless she cuts tonight short and schedules a second date.
She quickly shoves that thought away, knowing that it's an invitation for more pain. There's no point in dwelling on their limited time when she still has tonight to savor. She can have herself a little pity party, attended by the men who are her constants – Ben, Jerry and Captain Morgan – later if she needs to.
It's nearly eleven when the crowd begins to thin. It's a Wednesday and patrons start to filter out to tuck themselves into bed at a reasonable hour, complaining – some good natured, some not – along the way. She and Klaus have just finished a squabble over wine. Caroline had insisted that French wasn't always best - he'd looked horrified when she's confessed a love of a brand of Malbec from Argentina. She's giggling at the face he's making – it was only wine, after all – and his eyes are warm as he watches her, shaking his head in mock disappointment.
"Gargouille," he murmurs, once she quiets. "That's what I am though most people say Gargoyle in this country."
Caroline nods after a short pause to absorb. She's pleased with her deductive skills, and with the fact that he's given her the information freely. It's a gesture of trust and she appreciates it immensely. "That had been on my short list!" she exclaims.
"That's why I like you, love. Not just a pretty face."
She beams, "Definitely not. And hey, your species doesn't leave dead bodies post sex, so…"
He leans forward, voice pitching low, "Is that an invitation?"
Caroline pretends to think about it. "Maybe. Let's get out of here. There's something I want to check first." She slips from her stool, gathers up her things. They bundle up silently, exchanging glances filled with heat and promise. Klaus raises an eyebrow in questions. Caroline nods towards that door before making her way to the exit. She feels him, warm at her back, his hand dropping to span her hip. After a few steps outside she makes a hard right into the gap between the bar and its neighbor, spins and shoves Klaus up against the brick wall.
He pulls her into him immediately, his thigh slipping between hers. Caroline likes that, likes that he's participating, just as eager for her as she is for him. It makes her hopeful that the little test she's about to perform has favorable results.
Chemistry is finicky. She thinks they have it but she knows she needs to check before she invites him back to her place. Once someone was in it's awkward to try to kick them out if the mood fizzles or they have no skills.
She's limited to one night so Caroline needs to be selective. There's not enough time for a partner to learn what gets her off through trial and error. They have to have some natural instincts. A willingness to pay attention is a must, the ability to take direction very helpful.
Caroline rests her hands on his chest, leaning in so her lips almost brush his. "I'm going to need you to kiss me," she tells him.
Klaus doesn't hesitate. He slides his fingers into her hair and Caroline's eyes droop. He encourages her to tip her head to the side with a gentle tug and she bites back a moan as his thigh shifts to press more firmly between her legs. He bypasses her mouth and she finds herself pouting, her breath catching when his stubble scrapes against the soft skin of her jaw. He nips at her earlobe and Caroline shudders, hands fisting in his scratchy wool lapels.
The anticipation is killing her and he's barely even touched her.
He kisses her neck softly and when she feels his tongue drag across her pulse Caroline's sorely tempted to take matters into her own hands and yank his mouth to hers so she can see what he tastes like.
"Is this what you wanted to check, love? A kiss, to see if we're compatible?" his voice is low and husky, it slides over her skin like a touch.
"Something like that."
"It would be my pleasure."
Then his mouth slants over hers, hot and demanding. Her own falls open at the first teasing swipe of his tongue at the seam of her lips and he takes the invitation enthusiastically, surging forward and kissing her until she's breathless. Caroline meets him stroke for stroke, rising up onto her toes and plastering the length of her body against his. It's freezing outside but she barely feels it, beginning to sweat under all the layers she's wearing as her heartbeat quickens with her growing arousal.
She tears her mouth away from his when air becomes a necessity. She rests her head on his shoulder, trying to pull herself together. She's no stranger to want but what she feels for him is quickly becoming need. He's like stone against her, a harsh line of controlled desire. They need to move. They still have to make it to her apartment and any more of this and she was going to say screw it and ask him to fuck her against the wall.
Klaus runs a palm down her back, idly stroking her bare nape with his other hand. "Did I pass?" he asks, sounding far too sure of himself.
Caroline slaps his chest though she doesn't put any strength behind it. "Shut up," she grumbles. His laugh shakes her and she pulls herself away to glance up at him. Suddenly feeling shy (what if she hadn't passed?) she glances away. She can feel his cock pressing into her hip so she knows he's not completely unaffected. Still, that could just be his body. They've been rubbing up against each other, straining to get closer through their winter layers. Maybe he couldn't help it. She clears her throat. "So… did you want to come home with me?"
A look of disbelief crosses his face, "Of course I do. How can you doubt that?"
Caroline lifts a shoulder, tries to joke, "Well, a girl doesn't just want to assume…"
Klaus kisses her again greedily, nudging his hips into hers. Caroline mumbles out a protest, eyes half closed, when he pulls away too quickly for her tastes. "Let's go, love. I'll do my best to convince you that you can assume anytime."
He slips out from between her and the wall, twines their fingers together. Caroline tries not to let her expression drop visibly, his words hitting her hard. Klaus will forget her as soon as she left his sight. Any convincing would be short lived.
He glances back at her and Caroline shakes off her melancholy thoughts. She's had plenty of practice over the years. Smiling brightly she squeezes his hand. "Someone talks a big game," she teases. "Take a left. I'm like four blocks down and another two west."
He sets a fast pace, wrapping his arm around to keep her close, using an unbearably awful line about it being his duty to keep her warm. It makes her laugh though, and he's close enough to begin whispering things that definitely up her temperature.
She stops having to force her smile after about twenty paces. She's learned to live in the moment and this is a pretty damn good one.
They have to share the elevator on the way up, necessitating keeping their hands to themselves. It seems an agonizingly slow ascent, Klaus' thumb tracing distracting circles over the back of her hand as Caroline tries to make polite conversation with her neighbor.
Mrs. Wilson is clearly angling for an introduction to Klaus but Caroline plays dumb. It's unlikely in a big city but it could be bad if they happened to run into each other somewhere. Caroline honestly isn't certain what the people she sleeps with remember when they walk away and she'll never have the opportunity to find out. She thinks it best to play it safe. No need to have Mrs. Wilson approaching Klaus at the grocery store thinking he was Caroline's boyfriend only to leave him really confused.
He pulls her away as soon as the doors slide open on her floor, paying no mind to the fact that Mrs. Wilson had been in the middle of a sentence. "Rude," she accuses, though it contains little heat.
This time it's Klaus who presses her to the wall, caging her loosely with his palms on either side of his head. His color is a little higher, the blue of his eyes darker. Evidently his dirty promises had been working him up too.
Caroline had been pressing her thighs together hoping for the slightest relief every time they'd stopped walking. She thought it served him right.
"I'm not opposed to an audience. But not this time, sweetheart. This time you're for my eyes only."
She swallows harshly, fumbles in her bag for her keys. Klaus eases back to let her turn, follows her closely until she stops at her place. He immediately sweeps her hair to the side. She stills, knowing he's getting his first glimpse of the deep brown spots on her skin. He brushes a fingertip over one, bends to kiss it. "Pretty," he murmurs, "How far down do these go?"
She leans heavily on her door at the scrape of his teeth to her nape, "They fade out on my thighs."
One of his hands drops, stroking over the skin just below her hemline. Klaus hums, "I thought the legends said your kind removed their skins to appear human?"
Caroline snorts, "Yeah, and the legends also say that worked out really badly. Separated from my skin I'm vulnerable. I could be held prisoner by anyone who sought it out or even some idiot that bumbled across it. Does that sound like a good time to you? Luckily, some sympathetic witches figured out a work around. I have it bound to my human form annually. As long as I soak it every couple of days I don't have any problems and I can change whenever I feel the need to swim."
"Interesting. I see the potential in soaking. I bet you're magnificent wet and sleek." His hand creeps higher and Caroline's thighs part to give him room. He keeps the touch soft and exploratory, only barely grazing her panties. He laughs softly, "The door, Caroline. I want this coat, your dress, off."
Her hands are shaky but she manages to fit the key in the lock, dropping her purse as Klaus shuts the door. She unbuttons her coat quickly, aware of how loud her breathing is in the stillness of her apartment. She lets it hit the floor, spins to find Klaus shrugging out of his, shoes already discarded. He reaches for her but Caroline steps back. "Your glamour," she says. "Can you take it off?"
She's got some control over hers, can prolong it in desperate situations or force it away. But Bonnie's more powerful than most witches, her spells tailored to Caroline personally. If Klaus is buying his off the shelf he might be stuck waiting them out.
He strips off his shirt and closes his eyes, and Caroline assumes that's a yes. Her eyes are riveted on the new skin that's been revealed and she steps forward, tracing the tattoo on his shoulder curiously. He's tense underneath her touch and she lets her hands explore, stoking the lean muscles of his stomach, flicking a fingertip over a nipple experimentally. He shivers and she grins, leaning down to try it again with her teeth.
Klaus' reaction is the same, his muscles twitching under her touch. He cracks one eye open. "That's not helping my concentration."
Smirking, Caroline drops to her knees and toys with his belt. "Oops, carry on."
She's careful not to touch his skin, watches with great interest as his face creases with the effort to fight the magic. She sees the shadows against the far wall first, looks up to see the tip of a wing over each shoulder. She takes a minute to enjoy the sight, the graceful lines of his shoulders, before she raises an eyebrow, "Concentration done?"
He nods and she smiles, making quick work of his pants and the dark boxer briefs beneath them. She kisses his stomach as she wraps her hand around his cock, relishes the groan that emerges from behind his clenched teeth. "I've never fucked anyone with wings before. I guess you being on your back is out, huh?"
She begins to pump her hand, slow strokes meant to tease.
"It's not the most comfortable," he manages, swallowing thickly.
"Oh well, I'm sure we can figure out a satisfactory alternative."
"I… fuck." Whatever comeback he'd been formulating – and Caroline is really into the witty banter, but watching his mouth drop open and his eyes go hazy in pleasure is even better – is lost when she licks the precum beaded on the head of his cock, wrapping her lips around him and sucking once she's done taking her first taste.
She works slowly, learning what he likes. The rasp of her tongue just below the head leaves his fists clenched, the faintest edge of teeth has him cursing. She uses it all, taking more of him in her mouth with ever pass, until she swallows around him and he grits out her name.
It's a warning but she doesn't stop, uses her free hand to roll and tug at his balls until Klaus stiffens and comes on her tongue. She's gentle when she pulls back, rests her hands on his thighs. He's watching her with dark eyes and the blatant want that's still there pushes her own arousal higher. She shifts restlessly, wonders what he'd do it she touched herself. "The couch is right behind you," she tells him impishly. "You kinda look like you need to sit down."
His expression turns challenging and he grabs her arms, hauling her up. "No need," he tells her. "I'm more than fine." He kicks his pants away and can feel his cock stirring against her belly, so Caroline knows he's telling the truth.
An excellent thing, in her opinion. Looks like she wouldn't need to take care of herself. She peeks over his shoulder curiously, "Can I touch them?" she wonders, "Or will that hurt too?"
Klaus shakes his head, "Later, you can touch them all you want. There are few things I would enjoy more. But now I believe it's time for me to be convincing."
"If you must."
He doesn't crack a smile, his hands wandering restlessly over her still clothed body. "Where's your room, Caroline?"
She tilts her head in the right direction, "It's the door on the left."
Klaus has run out of patience because she finds herself scooped up and over his shoulder while he makes long strides. She can't complain about the view, the muscles in his back bunching as he moves, or the way his hand slides up her dress to tear away her panties."
He tosses her on the bed, and Caroline reaches up to begin peeling the stretchy fabric she wears down her shoulders. Klaus makes quick work of the zippers on her boots, tossing them aside. "The bra too," he demands, hooking his hands under his knees. He kisses her kneecap, begins to work his way down. Caroline struggles with the clasp, trying to watch him while she works at it. She gives up when his fingers find her slit, stroking her open under his hot gaze. When he strokes her clit she admits defeat, settles for shoving the cups down. Caroline toys with her nipple and props herself up with her free hand, her thighs widening in hopes he'll give her more. "You're so wet," he breathes. "Tell me, love, did it turn you on, taking me in your mouth? Did you like watching me fight to hold on? I struggled, let me tell you. The sight of your lips around my cock was better than I could have imagined."
She reaches down to grab his wrist, holds it still and arches her hips harder against his hand, seeking friction. She's tense and shaky, ridiculously close to coming. "Don't tease me. Not anymore."
Klaus shakes his head, slips his fingers inside of her. His voice is gravelly, and intent, "You're in luck, love. I need to be inside of you. But later, I'm going to taste you, Caroline." He rubs her clit, and her thighs shake. "I'm going to use my mouth and my fingers until you're desperate, until you beg me to suck your clit and let you come. Then I'm going to kiss every inch of your body until you're trembling. I'll discover every sensitive bit of skin. I want you sweat slick and writhing, mindless with need."
Caroline nods frantically, she'll agree to just about anything if he'd just hurry. She's aching, her body clenching, searching for some relief. "Fine, whatever. Later," she clips out hoarsely.
Klaus joins her on the bed and Caroline lets out a moan, arching up to press more of her skin against his. She reaches down for his cock, presses him against her and tilts her hips until he's easing inside. She bites down on his shoulder to keep from crying out at the delicious stretch and Klaus lets out a groan, bucking his hips until he's fully seated.
Her thighs climb up his sides, clamping around his hips. Klaus begins to move, a quick rough pace that slams her headboard into her wall. One of her hands scrabbles for purchase on his back and he lets out a hiss when she brushes one of his wings. His hips grind into hers at the same time, and the extra pressure against her clit is incredible.
She touches his wings again, deliberate brushes the base of one, and Klaus rasps out her as his rhythm falters. His thrusts quicken and he rests his forehead against hers, face taut with strain. Caroline smiles mischievously before she brings her other hand to his back. His wings are sensitive and she means to exploit that.
Klaus makes a low noise, a warning though it's tinged with amusement, and he heaves himself up, sitting back on his knees. Caroline locks her legs around his hips when his cock begins to slip from her and Klaus hands grasp her waist, sliding under her back and pulling her into his lap. He goes deeper and Caroline cries out her pleasure, writhing against him. He thwarts her when she reaches for him, banding her wrists in one of his hands and pressing them to her lower back.
Caroline shoots him a glare though she's not actually displeased. Particularly when he tugs on her bound hands, encouraging her to arch her back and ducking to roll her nipple between his teeth. His free hand settles low on her hip, his thumb hovering just above where their bodies meet. She tenses her thighs, urging him harder against her and sucks in a shaky breath, "You did say I could touch your wings later."
He laughs, the sound muffled against the slope of her breast, "Your definition of later differs from mine."
"Semantics," she huffs.
"I said a few things about later, didn't I love?" His grip on her hip firms, slowing her rolling hips and Caroline groans in protest, her body beginning to tremble, searching for release. "Talk to me, Caroline. What do you need?"
"I need to move," she breathes.
"Do you really?" Klaus asks, tone sly. His thumb slips lower, parting her folds and pressing on her clit and Caroline jolts, shivering when he rubs gently. "Because I rather think you could come for me just like this."
Her eyelids droop, her breaths growing heavier, her muscles twitching with every slick circle he traces. Caroline's head falls forward, coming to rest against Klaus'. "Klaus. Don't stop," she pleads.
A satisfied rumble spills from him, vibrating against all the skin she's got plastered to him. "You're lovely, Caroline. Why would I stop? I want to feel you let go."
It only takes a few more passes of his thumb until the sensations are too much for her and she comes, Klaus' name ringing out loudly before she slumps against him. He gives her time to come back to herself, nuzzling her sweat damp shoulder and murmuring praise. When she can move again he urges her back, snagging a pillow to set under her hips.
This time his thrusts are slow, lighting up her extra sensitive nerves and building her up gradually. His eyes are hot as they travel over her body, his hands tracing all the skin he can reach, leaving her arching up into his palms.
When they finally fall asleep in the smallest hours of the night, Caroline's last thought is another fleeting wish that they could have later.
"Hello, Caroline."
She stills at the familiar voice, though she's never heard Klaus sound so cold. She's tried not to think about him over the last week or so but he's crept into her dreams, left her twisted in her sheets and desperate for a touch that hers just didn't compare to. Its girl's night and she's at the bar where they'd met, waiting for a round of drinks. She turns slowly, her stomach a queasy mix of confusion and dread, the tiniest bit of joy too.
He looks exactly the same save for the seething anger he's trying to conceal behind a mask of blandness. "Klaus?" she questions, confusion winning out. "What are you doing here? How do you even remember me?"
"Was I not supposed to?" he bites out. "We spent nearly eight hours together. Eight hours of truly spectacular sex and excellent conversation as you rested against me, drowsy and sated, should be pretty memorable, don't you think?"
He'd slipped out while she'd slept, though he'd told her he would have to go before sunrise. He'd left a note, a quick sketch of her sleeping form. And his phone number.
Caroline had, at that point, realized that perhaps he hadn't known he'd forget about her. She'd assumed he'd have done his research on Selkies (seriously, even humans google-stalked before a first date) and that all his pretty words and vague referenced to later had just been habit. She'd wondered if she should have regretted not clarifying but Caroline quickly decided that she didn't have it in her to taint her memories with anything negative. There was no real harm in it, she'd decided. Not remembering her wouldn't hurt Klaus, he wouldn't be burdened with missing her.
In the weak dawn light she'd found one of his necklaces under her pillow, had put it on and hadn't been able to make yourself take it off.
She'd tried to make herself throw the drawing away that first morning. She knew that every time she looked at it would be peeling off the scab anew. Caroline had known in her gut that forgetting him was going to take a very long time so she'd rationalized that another memento wouldn't hurt. She found herself pulling the scrap of paper out of the drawer she'd stowed it in often.
She hasn't washed her sheets yet, either.
Caroline realizes she's been starring at him, silent with her mouth ajar, for far too long. Klaus nods sharply, jaw clenched. "Right. Perhaps I'm wrong and it wasn't so memorable for you."
He turns from her and panic rises in Caroline's throat. He's here, and he knows her. She needs for him to explain. She needs to know why and she doesn't want to risk never seeing him again. She reaches out, latching on to his arm. "You're not supposed to remember," she blurts. "No one ever remembers. It's part of the Selkie deal."
Klaus' posture remains rigid, his tone icy, "Humans don't remember, Caroline. Something I'm definitely not."
Caroline scoffs, "Yeah, thanks for the mansplanation of my species, Klaus. Do you really think you're the first non-human I'm slept with? I was born in 1678 for god's sake!"
He shuffles closer and Caroline winces, checking to make sure no one heard that. They'd probably just think she was drunk but better safe than sorry. She jumps when she feels Klaus' finger delving under the neckline of her sweater, hooking around the leather cord there. He tugs on it. "I have worn this for my entire life," he informs her, anger making the statement harsh. "I have never taken it off. Leaving this with you was a symbol of intent. I wanted you to be mine. While you wear it I can always find you, I can sense if you're in distress."
"That's a little presumptuous," Caroline mutters, still reeling.
He makes an exasperated noise. "I hadn't known that you would put it on, love. I expected you to call me. I would have asked you to dinner. We'd have enjoyed another night, I'd already begun making plans to coax out those delightful little noises you make when you're right on the edge. Perhaps we'd have seen a movie next. I would have explained the necklace's power in due time. I won't say I'm sorry that you did put it on for it seems as if my magic has overridden yours."
She reaches up to touch it, fingers brushing his. "Can I take it off?"
"Whenever you wish," he promises. "It's not a brand."
Caroline knows she could work with that. She takes a deep breath, clasps his hand in hers, "I'm sorry for not calling. I just assumed you'd have no idea who I was."
He nods, accepting her apology.
"Do you maybe want to get dinner now?" Caroline asks hopefully. "The girls have been nagging me about why I've been mopey all week so I'll have to introduce you but then we could go? Talk? Figure this out?"
Klaus still doesn't look entirely happy. Caroline gets it. She's been stewing in misery but he'd thought she'd rejected him. She would have been devastated if she'd been on his end. She'll do whatever it takes to work through that because she's not willing to let this chance slip through her fingers. She'd missed him after one night, mourned the nights they could never have. They'd have to have some serious words about the whole 'mine' business (because that was a two way street and she wasn't going to tolerate any cave man stupidity). She expects it'll be difficult, her stubbornness and his seem equally matched.
One of the perks of being immortal? They have plenty of time to negotiate.