Bookmarks

𝑀𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑆𝑆.

He's folded you in half like you're made of silk, knees shoved up to your shoulders, the backs of your thighs pressed flush against his heaving chest and he just stares for a moment, amber eyes blown wide and dark, tracing the glossy, swollen mess of your cunt wrapped around his leaking length like it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "Look at that," he purrs, voice dripping with teasing awe, one calloused thumb reaching down to circle your puffy clit, smearing your slick across your belly just to watch you twitch, "taking all of me like a good little thing—fuck, you're so pretty when you're stuffed full," and then he rolls his hips, a deep, grinding circle that hits that spongy spot inside you and makes your vision white out, stars bursting behind your eyelids. His sharp canines graze your bottom lip, tugging at the plush flesh before he soothes it with a kittenish lick, all while his hips piston into you with deep, measured strokes that have the headboard creaking and the sheets pooling wet beneath you. "Eyes on me, pretty thing," he commands, but it comes out breathless, desperate, almost a plea, because he needs to watch you fall apart, needs to see those tears cling to your lashes. His Evol hums, cooling the silver cuffs that bind your wrists to the headboard, but his hands stay gentle, palms cradling your jaw, thumbs stroking your cheekbones like you're something sacred. "There she is—there's my girl," he coos, fucking into you deeper, slower, worshipping your gooey cunt and your kiss bitten lips, that scary wolf completely undone by the way your walls flutter around him, clinging and greedy, and he smiles, boyish and adoring, even as he wrecks you from the inside out.

𝐶𝛰𝑊𝐺𝐼𝑅𝐿 / 𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐸 𝐶𝛰𝑊𝐺𝐼𝑅𝐿.

You're bouncing reverse in his lap, back plastered to his sweat-slicked chest, the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse office reflecting the lewd, glistening sight of his thick shaft disappearing into your drenched heat over and over again—and he's watching the glass, amber eyes half-lidded and starving, one massive hand splayed across your stomach while the other sneaks up to cup your jaw, turning your face so he can press messy, open-mouthed kisses to the corner of your lips. "C'mon, baby, use me," he slurs against your cheek, hips twitching up to meet your lazy, grinding descent, but his voice is needy, wrecked, that booming baritone cracking into a whimper when you clench around him, "don't stop—please don't stop—you feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me." And when you slow down, thighs burning, he whines, a high, pathetic sound that's so utterly unlike the terrifying Chairman who makes boardrooms tremble, and he wraps both arms around your middle, hugging you tight to his chest, burying his nose in your sweat-damp hair while his hips buck up into you with frantic, shallow thrusts. "You're mean," he pouts against your scalp, claws pricking just enough to sting at your waist, but he's kissing the spot right after, tongue lapping at the tiny beads of blood like an apology, "getting me all worked up and then—nngh—trying to tap out? Nah, sweetheart, you're gonna ride me until that pretty cunt of yours is raw, then you're gonna let me fill you up. Right, little pup? " He groans when you clench around him, seemingly in agreement, the sound breathless and warm, that feral, untamed beast completely surrendered to you, his throne, his home, his everything.

𝐴𝐺𝐴𝐼𝑁𝑆𝑇 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐿.

He's got you slammed against the cold, damp concrete of the abandoned warehouse, your legs locked high around his hips and his massive palms gripping the swell of your ass, fingers dimpling the soft flesh as he lifts you with complete ease, impales you on one brutal, all-consuming shove that has your head knocking back against the brick with a dull thud—but he's there in an instant, one hand cupping the back of your skull, cushioning the impact while his hips roll forward in a punishing, deep grind that punches a broken moan from your chest. "Couldn't even make it to the bed," he teases, sharp canines grazing the column of your throat, tongue lapping at your frantic pulse point while his tail wraps possessively around your thigh, keeping you spread wide and helpless against him, "got so worked up just lookin' at you in that skirt—gonna fuck you stupid right here, where anyone could walk in and see who you belong to." But yet, his voice wavers, cracks with affection, because he's grinning against your skin, that boyish, mischievous smile that makes him look nothing like the scary wolf who just tore through a dozen enemies. His hips piston into you with frantic, sloppy thrusts, the wet schlik schlik echoing off the walls, rain dripping through a broken skylight and mingling with the sweat trailing down his chest—and even as he fucks you ruthlessly, brutally, one arm stays locked around your waist, holding you flush to his body like you're the only anchor in a storm, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, breathing you in with desperate little huffs. "Smell so scared and soaked," he murmurs, lips brushing your pulse and you whimper, "but you're safe, you're always safe with me, even when I'm bein' a monster—fuck, I love the way you squeeze me when I talk dirty," and he laughs, despite a whine curling around the sound, driving into you deeper, slower, meaner, kissing your tears away even as he paints your walls with his release.

𝑆𝑃𝛰𝛰𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺.

Moonlight spills through the blinds like liquid silver, painting his cherry hair in pale, ethereal streaks as he pulls you flush against his chest, your back curving into his broad, scarred torso like two puzzle pieces snapping together—and he sighs, a deep, throaty sound that's all warmth and no bite, his half-hard cock sliding through your slick, puffy folds from behind, nudging past your entrance with a slow, lazy push that has him whimpering against your nape. "Been thinkin' about this all day," he confesses, voice thick with sleep and adoration, one arm banded tight across your ribs while his other hand trails down your belly, fingers dipping to circle your swollen clit in languid, hypnotic patterns. Your back arches on instinct, curving to fit the shape of his shadow. He continues in a low rumble against your skin, murmuring between kisses, "Sitting in that boardroom, tryin' to sound smart, but all I could think about was coming home to this—to you—feeling you warm and wet and mine." His hips rock into you with slow, deep, worshipful thrusts, each one a gentle nudge that has you melting into the mattress, his tail curling possessively around your thigh, keeping you anchored to his every lazy roll, and he kisses your shoulder, your neck, the shell of your ear, a trail of soft, open-mouthed affection that makes your heart ache. "My good girl," he murmurs, canines grazing just soft enough to make you shiver, "my pretty, perfect, clingy little thing—can't even fuck you slow without wanna whine about how much I love you," He groans wetly against your skin, his hips stuttering into a deeper, needier rhythm, that big, scary wolf completely tamed, reduced to a sobbing, adoring mess who fucks you with all the tenderness in the world, whispering promises into your hair until the sun comes up.

Elijah had been increasingly possessive as situations got more tense. Niklaus was at the centre of the problems between not only the vampire but the witches and werewolves too. Having the threat over all of their heads, Elijah knew he had made the mistake of falling in love again.

But he couldn’t find it within himself to push Y/N away, instead he kept her impossibly close. If she didn’t leave his side, then he would always be there to keep her safe.

However, Y/N had began to help him unwind. Encouraged him to release his stress into her. Yet now he had come to rely on it. Suddenly aroused whenever things turned badly. The stressful the situation, the more control he needed not to pull her aside. Too many times had she sat beside him, gently caressing him through his trousers to keep him calm.

“You’ve turned me into a different kind of beast.” He whispered against her at night, his cock remaining embedded inside her until they had to leave the house again.

Elijah had come to waking her in the early hours of the morning, his body reacting to the knowledge that the next day will bring stressful meetings and confrontations.

“Y/N…” he’d whisper, stroking her face gently. “Please, doll.”

“It’s so early ‘Lijah.” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He kissed her cheek then her mouth. “I need you.”

But so many times now, she had accidentally fallen back to sleep. Elijah would of course stop, lay down beside her in a state of desperation and exhaustion. Y/N only realised how badly he needed her when she woke, feeling movement beside her and turning to see him facing away, his hips rutting up into his own hand as he tried to keep himself quiet.

“Elijah…” she whispered, her hand resting in his shoulder as he came against the sheets. He wouldn’t look at her, too ashamed. “Shh…it’s okay.” She kissed his back gently and reached around him to feel his cock; still hard and leaking.

“Forgive me.” He breathed, knowing she already had as she stroked him through another orgasm.

Later, when she lay against him ready for bed again, she squeezed his hand in hers. “I don’t want you to do that again.” She whispered and he turned his head away.

“I won’t.” He promised, his fingers intertwining with hers as he held her tight. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m not mad, Elijah.” She turned to kiss his jaw, her hands stroking his face gently. “Elijah?” She cooed, making him look at her despite his shame. “You don’t have to wake me up.” She uttered and he frowned before shaking his head.

“I couldn’t-“

“I want you to.” Y/N kissed his lips softly before hugging him to her, pressing her face to his neck. “I fall asleep with you inside me, I want to wake knowing you’re still there, that you’re satisfied and happy.”

“I won’t know if I’ve hurt you.” He frowned and she smiled at him, tilting her head.

“You know my body better than anybody.” She told him, “better than I do. You’ll know, Elijah.” Her head nodded. “Besides, I’m not saying to do anything crazy, just that you can and I know you want to.”

“But-“

“Just think about it.” She said, kissing him once more before settling down to sleep. Letting him slip between her legs to feel close to her.

In the morning, he could hear her words replaying through his mind over and over. But when he gently laid her on her back and lifted his shirt that she’d worn to sleep, he felt so guilty at the idea of fucking her.

Quietly, he spread her thighs. Elijah moved to lay on his front, pulling her legs over his shoulders to gently wake her pussy up. He was slow, caring as he licked and sucked at her in a way he knew would make her come undone quickly.

Once he’d lapped up any mess, he moved to hover over her. “I love you.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to hers as he pushed his cock back into her. She felt warmer than ever, her body so soft as she moved from his force. He gently placed his hands on her hips, not wanting her to jolt as he thrust deeply. “That’s it…” he murmured, his eyes darkening at the sleepy moan she let out. Elijah moved one hand down, pressing his fingers against her lower belly and his thumb to her clit. “Y/N-“ he groaned, his breath hot against her lips as he sped up, his body trembling as he fucked into her with growing intensity.

He felt as though electric was running through his veins, filling him with energy as he continued to plough into her through his orgasm and into another.

Y/N woke when he held her up, her back against the headboard and wall, her head limply laying against his neck, legs draped around him as he let out fast puffs of air. She moaned, her brows furrowed as she moved her hands up to his hair, curling into the thick strands as she lifted her legs to wrap around him properly.

“Elijah…” she whimpered, the sound sending him over the edge again. When he didn’t relent, she pulled back enough to look at his face. His hair stuck to his skin, his eyes red and dazed as his hips moved as though programmed. “Baby…” she cupped his face, moaning again when she felt her whole body give in, her legs shaking without her even realising. “Fuck…Elijah.” The sheets were soaked and she could see how swollen her pussy was. Her hands tugged his hair, her hips slowly rolling with his.

“Just one more.” He uttered, breathless and feral as he leaned down to suck her neck which she only now noticed was already a little sore. Y/N didn’t have to look in a mirror to know she was covered in love bites. “Please?” He breathed and she nodded, stroking his hair as he sunk his fangs down into her jugular, drinking slowly as he came again.

Y/N moaned, head back and body relaxed as he gradually brought his speed down. With one last thrust, he pulled his teeth away and kissed the wounds until the blood stopped. Y/N groaned when he pulled out, her body impossibly empty without her as he laid her down to the side, away from the damp sheets.

“Shh…” he murmured, stroking her head gently and biting into his own wrist but Y/N only smiled.

“Never wanna get rid of your marks.” She whispered, sleepier now that she was before as the lack of blood took its effect. Elijah knew she’d be okay, he’d perfected how much he could take.

“I’ll clean you up, okay?” He told her, cupping her face gently and smiling back at her when she nodded.

“Trust you.” She breathed before her eyes closed again. Elijah leant down to kiss her lips gently, hugging her body to him appreciatively because he knew she’d meant it.

I’d met Klaus at an event. He’d been making his way through the women, charming and dancing with everyone. So it was obvious that he was a hard man to keep down in the first place.

“Come on, love. It’s just a dance.” His hand brushed mine again, he’d been following me around the hall after I’d said no. Nobody had denied his hand before me, I could tell he enjoyed the chase.

“I don’t want to dance.” I shrugged and he chuckled, the sound a low rumble that made something within me stir.

“You were just dancing with that gentleman over there.” He reminded and I rolled my eyes.

“Well then, I don’t want to dance with you.” I countered and he hummed. Despite my words, I didn’t protest when his hands slid up my waist, his chest pressing to my back and his hips pressing against my ass in a deliberate way.

“Now I know that’s just not true.” He whispered, his words so quiet I strained to hear him. “I can feel how much you want to.” He murmured but I knew he wasn’t talking about dancing. I knew what he was, everyone in town did and everyone was curious as to how he’d be in bed. Over 900 years of experience would’ve given him a fair few tricks.

“I don’t want to dance.” I repeated, turned over my shoulder to glance at him.

“Then what, pray tell, do you want to do?” His eyes crinkled a little at the sides, his lips upturning.

I didn’t think that I would actually end up in his bed. His fingers stroking every inch of me, followed by his tongue. I’d barely been able to move by morning. Klaus continued to lounge whilst I was essentially immobile.

“What’re you doing?” I mumbled sleepily when he lifted my arm, lifting it to rest against the bed above my head.

“Sketching you.” He murmured, his hand moving my leg. When he pushed my thighs apart, I used what strength I had left to close them. My face was hot, a little embarrassed at the idea. “Come now, love. I’ll let you see it after.” He pushed my legs apart before flicking my nipples until they stayed hard. “Good…stay like that.” And I did.

At some point, I went back to sleep. When I woke, he’d sketched it once and painted me across a large canvas.

“Oh…” I swallowed thickly, looking at the pornographic image of myself. He hummed, barely paying attention as he added to the details of the sheets. “What will you do with it?” I asked, a little anxious.

“Add it to my collection.” He said dismissively and I felt my slight embarrassment deepen into humiliation.

I gathered my things whilst he continued to perfect his art. I pulled the broken dress back on, wiping my eyes each time they threatened to spill. But when I finally got out of his bedroom door, he appeared in front of me. I jumped, stumbling in the heels I’d worn causing my ankle to twist. His hands caught me, pulling me back to stand upright.

“Where are you going?” He asked and I let go of his arms.

“Back home.” I answered, “where else would I go?”

“Well why are you leaving so soon?” He frowned and I mirrored the expression. I glanced back at his canvas, at my own body graphically on display. Another piece for his collection. Another conquest to add to the list.

“Because I should never have stayed here.” I murmured, turning and looking past him to the stairs. The same stairs he had carried me up the night before.

“Has my art offended you, love?” He questioned, his hand coming to my waist. “I can paint over your face if you’d like.” But that offer only offended me more.

“I have to go.” I repeated, pushing his hands off and getting home quickly. I knew I had to stay away. I had always been a little too needy, too possessive over people. Any relationships had ended due to jealousy and accusations.

I knew that Klaus was the last person to remain loyal, to want a long lasting relationship. That was even clearer after his painting. He filled his time with various women, in various places. And occasionally, he enjoyed a chase.

Which is what I forced myself to believe when he continued to follow me around town.

“I’ve framed the piece, love. It hangs in my room, though I’d much prefer the real deal come back to my bed.” He’d tease, his hands always wondering no matter where we were or what I was meant to be doing.

I’d always end up against him again. Often beneath him, trying not to get too controlling. I needed to stay calm; casual. But I wasn’t a casual person. I was reminded of that when he’d invited me to another event at his home but I’d seen him kissing another.

I felt furious, and embarrassed, and sick all at once. I left quickly, almost running out of the courtyard to get back home but his hand had caught me, spinning me straight into his chest with a surprised yelp. He looked at me quizzically.

“I thought you’d at least yell.” He scoffed, but the sound was more amused than offended or annoyed.

“What?” I whispered. Klaus only glanced me over and swiped his thumb over my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t felt drop.

“I had only wanted to make you a little jealous, love.” He chuckled, his arm snaking around my waist and pulling me back to him. “Imagine my surprise when you went as pale as a ghost and ran.”

“You did it on purpose?” I blinked at him, confused and conflicted. He must’ve known about my last relationships, he must’ve wanted a show. For me to yell in front of everyone and look like a fool once again. I turned quickly, walking away once more.

“Love,” he called, his footsteps still following as I raced to my house. I tried not to close my eyes. Tried not to remember witnessing my last boyfriend in bed with another, or the one before that, or the one before that. “Love, don’t cry.” His voice slipped into my ears, the warmth of him suddenly around me as I let out a sob. “I just thought you’d get a little jealous.” He whispered, his hold tightening. “Shh…forgive me.”

And while I did try to forgive and forget, I couldn’t help but be paranoid that he knew and that it entertained him to play with me. When he spoke to another woman, I wondered if it was another decoy. If he was trying to make me jealous again.

“Love, why won’t you just come. You’ve come to all the other things in thrown.” He frowned, unhappy with my refusal to attend his events.

“I just don’t want to.”

I couldn’t watch others flaunt over him, hear them whisper, judge me and judge him for wanting me. I couldn’t watch him dance with them, smile at them, even look at them.

“Y/N, I promise I won’t do anything like that again.” He whispered, his hand squeezing mine as his frown deepened. “I had just wanted to rile you up a little. I didn’t think you’d be so upset.”

I didn’t know how he’d lasted so long in town without finding out about my past. I was surprised every day that one of his admirers hadn’t decided to spoil it to him, hadn’t driven him away yet.

But eventually, he did know.

Klaus had asked me over, when I arrived he had lit his manor with candles and sat with me as we ate a dinner that he had prepared himself. I thought something was a little off, but of course I always thought something was wrong. It was only once the moon was high and I lay half asleep on top his nude body that he mentioned it.

“I heard some whispers in town today.” He admitted, his fingers drawing shapes against my back as I tensed. “Had I of known, I would never have tried to tease you by kissing that girl.” His words sounded sincere and I wanted to say it was okay, that it didn’t matter, but not words or sound would escape me as he caressed me. “I don’t know how any man could be so foolish as to want someone else.” He whispered, “How could anyone leave someone as darling as you?” He asked, his hand cupping my cheek to tilt my head back to see him. I knew my face was wet with tears, that I’d cried onto his chest and wetted his skin too.

“I just…” I sniffed and hiccuped but he didn’t laugh or mock me. He looked more solemn than I did. “I’m too much.”

“No love.” He kissed my mouth, the taste of my tears sinking into both of us. “There’s no such thing as too much of you.”

His words had felt better than anything. Any touch from any one, any amount of love I’d felt for anyone else seemed to feel like nothing compared to what I felt for him in that moment.

I didn’t have to ask how things would work, Klaus was already talking about our future as if I were already a vampire.

“You’ll feed from me, love.” He murmured as he stroked my shoulder where his teeth marks remained. “It’s intimate for vampires…” he whispered, tracing the little wounds that ended up scarring.

He didn’t mention that everything about me would be heightened. That the jealousy would be crippling agony.

I knew he was just eating, he hadn’t even spoke to the girl before biting her but she was just so pretty. Her hair so long and her body so soft. I dragged Klaus off her, not caring that blood went everywhere and her head nearly came off.

“Love!” He yelled, angry and hungry.

“Just take mine.” I whimpered, pushing his head to my throat instead. My eyes pricked with tears when he drank, he was right; it was intimate. And even though I knew it didn’t feel as intimate for a human, I couldn’t help but imagine that it did.

“Sweetheart, if I keep feeding from you, you’ll desiccate.” He frowned, stroking my cold skin. “I promise I’ll only drink from men.” But that only helped for so long.

I felt like I was in a constant spiral, like he was on the verge of leaving, finding someone; anyone else. So I tried to push him away first. But he caught on quick.

“You can’t lie to me, love.” He murmured, his teeth scraping my neck making me moan. “You love me too much to be able to stop.”

I don’t suggest blood bags, Klaus just started stocking them. We drank from bags and each other, that way I didn’t get so stressed but we were still strong.

It had been just us for so long, I didn’t want to go to his birth place for him to become a hybrid. I didn’t want him to change, because what if it changed something about him. What if he didn’t feel the same towards me anymore.

“Love, I’ve been trying to break this curse for a thousand years.” He reminded. It was the only topic he got defensive about.

“You can’t feed from her!” I yelled, but I knew it was the ritual. He had to drink the doppelgänger dry. But after seeing sketches of what she looked like, how gorgeous she was, I couldn’t get her face out of my head.

“I have to!” He yelled back and I felt my chest tighten, panic swirling within me as I backed up, my hands feeling the walls to find the door as my eyes watered. Klaus would always catch me more I left, his arms bringing me down to the floor whilst he shushed me softly. “I’m sorry.” He’d whisper, his lips brushing my head as he rubbed my shaking arms. “I promise I won’t hold her, only my teeth will touch her.” But I still couldn’t bear it.

Which was why he had to desiccate me for a few days whilst he lifted his curse. I would’ve ended up killing Elena out of my own jealousy, I couldn’t do that Klaus. I couldn’t take away his true self any longer.

I could see him just slightly when he returned. I felt his warmth surround me, his scent stronger and his blood richer as I drank quickly. The feeling of starvation hit as soon as I got a drop.

I frowned when I saw him. I looked around and saw that I’d been led in a coffin, not a bed. And I was surrounded by other coffins too.

“How…how long have I been in there?” I asked, already scared. I knew how long he’d kept his siblings away.

“Only a few months.” He whispered but I shook my head.

“You promised it would be a week at most!” I climbed out of it quickly, pushing his hands away when he tried to help.

“I had to find wolves to turn, love. You wouldn’t have been able to handle it all.” He sighed, his hands fixing the neckline of my dress, he was fiddling, trying not to look at me directly, so he didn’t have to face what he’d done. “There’s going to be a dinner party tonight.” He whispered, his hands coming to hold my face. “Elijah will be there, and then two other vampires. Stefan and Damon Salvatore.”

“I don’t want to go.” I mumbled and he nodded, his forehead coming down to press to mine.

“All of your things are in my room, come on.” I followed quietly behind him, still upset by his actions. I saw a man down the hall, his expression intrigued before we went up stairs. “Ignore Elijah.” Klaus muttered, tugging me a little so I’d keep up.

The room was perfect. I knew he had designed it for how I would have. Except for the painting on the wall. I groaned and covered my face in my hands. “Take that down.” I laughed and he chuckled, his face nuzzling into the side of my neck.

“But it’s my favourite.” He murmured, his tone lowering as he nipped my skin. “I’ve missed you.”

“Then you should’ve woken me earlier.” I whispered back and he nodded against me.

“I know, I’m sorry.” His words sounded real, his eyes full of earnest as I looked to him. “I’ll never do it again.”

“I wont forgive you if you do.”

I don’t think he would have had much of a chance to, not after that night when all of his siblings and his mother had been woken. I paced the bedroom for hours, listening to them yelling downstairs. Eventually, he came back to bed and moved to lay over me, his weight keeping me against him.

“It’s okay.” I whispered, stroking his back gently whilst he fed from my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

But it was all so tense. The next morning I sat beside him, caressing his arm whilst he tried to sketch. His mother wanted to throw a ball to celebrate the reunion, Klaus knew I didn’t want to but I knew I needed to, so that things didn’t get worse. Kol was continuous with snarky remarks against Klaus, Rebekah was just as pissed. Klaus kept himself quiet, eventually giving up with his art and pulling me to his lap.

“I’m hungry.” He mumbled, searching for a spot along my throat. I glanced over, feeling Kol’s amused stare as his brother drank from me. I rest against him once he was done, my fingers between his as he closed his eyes.

“I’m tired.” I whispered and he hummed. I wasn’t tired, neither was he. But it acted as an excuse for us to back upstairs, to climb into bed. “Can they hear?” I asked quietly as he tugged his pants open.

“No, the rooms are all noise proof.” He explained before crawling over me, his mouth pressed to mine and I swallowed his taste before parting my lips to welcome him back. I moaned softly into him, my fingers curling into his shirt when he pushed into me. I laughed when he moaned back, his body moving with a tenderness he rarely used in bed. “Been so long.” He mumbled, his lips still against mine.

“I love you” I whispered, pulling away just a little to look into his eyes. He smiled, the little crinkle at his eyes making me stroke his face with my thumb.

“I love you too.” He murmured, his hips pushing forward slowly. “More than you know.”

But I still couldn’t help but doubt it when at the ball. He’d gone to grab drinks when I overheard people talking.

“We’ll use Caroline to distract Klaus, he’s got a thing for her.” I felt that familiar dread and began to look around. I frowned when I saw her, I recognised the bracelet on her wrist from his collection. I walked off, keeping out of sight when he returned. I watch her approach, he looked nervous, his laugh awkward. I couldn’t tell if it was because she made him nervous or because he was nervous as to how I would react.

When her hand touched his arm, I felt sick. I must’ve made a sound because his head turned and his eyes found me immediately. Quickly, she was left in her place whilst he rushed over.

“You said you’d stay right there.” He murmured, kissing my cheek and slotting the drink into my hand. “She’s no one.”

“Why does she have that bracelet?” I asked and he wrapped his arm round me, squeezing my hip.

“It’s all just apart of the plan okay?”

“What plan?” I frowned, looking up at him. “Do you like her?”

“No” he answered quickly, his voice still quiet as to not gain any attention. “No, of course not. I just need them to think that I do.”

“Why?”

“So they don’t hurt you.” But I didn’t trust him. He’d kept me in a coffin for months and now had a ‘fake’ interest in the girl.

“I don’t care. Take the bracelet back.” I shook my head and he sighed, annoyed.

“Love-“

“No. Get it back.”

I went up to our room, and stayed up there until he returned with the bracelet in hand. I stayed quiet as he wrapped it around my wrist, clasping it on and lacing his fingers with mine. I let his arm round me and leant to his body. I was still getting used to how warm his skin had become since lifting his curse.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, his hand squeezing mine. I could feel that he meant it, but I still worried.

I didn’t understand why he was playing games with these people. I didn’t like whatever friendship he seemed to crave from Stefan, he tried to tell me of his time in the 20s, just before he met me, but I could feel that darkness swirling in me again.

“Love, you can’t control whether I go out or not.” He argued but I was still blocking the door.

“Why do you have to go? You have the hybrids-“

“Who you don’t want me talking to.” He interjected and I huffed. “I’m going. I’ll come back, alright?”

But it wasn’t alright. And when his hands pulled me aside, and I could feel him slipping away, I did what I could to keep him there.

“Love!” He yelled when my teeth sunk into his neck. I could barely register what I was doing before he was on the ground. When I relaxed my jaw and I pulled back, I was ready for him to be angry. To grab me and put me back upstairs.

But when I looked up at him, his blood dripping from my chin, he didn’t look mad. I watched his Adam’s Apple bob before his mouth was on mine. I relaxed against him, my fingers curling into his jacket. I moaned when his hands grabbed my hips, pulling me further on top of him.

I breathed heavily, pulling away and realising we were half outside and half inside. Klaus squeezed my hip, I glanced behind into the house and grabbed his shoulders, using my strength and speed to get us into our bed. His chuckle rang through me as I pushed his shirt up. He let it over his head easily before tugging mine off too. I unlooped his belt and smiled when his hips lifted for me to get his jeans and boxers down enough.

“I love when you’re like this.” He murmured, his hands helping the rest of my clothes off so I could sink onto his cock.

“Like what?” I breathed, my hips rolling slowly as I looked down at him.

“Jealous.” He smirked, his eyes almost sparkling as he thrust his hips up to meet me. “Possessive.”

I moaned in response and lay my palms on his chest before rocking against him. I could feel my eyes blurring, my heart racing as I moved faster. His hands brushed up my back, his words barely intelligible. Until two words seemed to stand out.

“Bite me.”

I looked at him, my eyes focusing onto him. I felt his fingers tugging my hair, trying to get me to lean down.

“Bite me again, love.”

And so I did. I bit from his shoulder to his jaw, leaving dots of blood everywhere.

When I opened my eyes, I was dressed, covers wrapped around me and my body curled against his. The curtains were still open, the sun high in the sky, but we stayed led in bed for the rest of the day, occasionally feeding from each other and touching one another until we were tired again.

“I don’t want you with those people anymore.” I whispered and he hummed, still nuzzling my neck. “I mean it.”

“Mm, you threatening me, love?” He teased, an amused smile on his face. I narrowed my eyes and kissed him softly.

“Not you.” I mumbled against him. “But I’ll hurt them.”

And when he still tried to play his games. I ended up killed the beloved Caroline to prove a point. But Klaus only laughed.

“Did you truly believe I would be upset, my love?” He smiled, his arms round my waist and pulling me close “I’m only upset you didn’t do it in front of me.”

“In front of you?” I asked, tilting my head. I’d killed for him, or because of him before already but I’d never done it infront of him. I didn’t want him to think I was actually crazy.

“Y/N, I love you so.” He rest his head against mine, his warmth enveloping me once again. “I knew from that first time I tried to make you jealous, just what you were.” I didn’t like his wording, that I was a ‘what’ but I could tell he didn’t mean anything by it. “And I love that about you.”

“I’d do anything for you.” I whispered, my eyes stinging a little as he cupped my face.

“I know.” He nodded, and I pressed to him. “I know you will.”

My eyes closed when he kissed my head. He was the only person that had accepted me, and continued to accept me for the last hundred years.

You began pouring yourself a glass of wine, before offering some to Zayne. You didn’t drink often, but you felt you’d be needing it tonight. He’d sent you a text throughout the day, warning you he needed to speak to you about something over dinner. 

Your stomach has been tangling itself in knots ever since. When he confirmed he didn’t want any of the chardonnay, you put it away and slid into the seat across from him. Even as you took your first, generous sip Zayne hasn’t spoken a word. 

He is taking another bite of the maple-glazed salmon when you finally broke the silence. “Is everything okay?” 

His green eyes moved from the plate in front of him to you, looking a little caught off-guard. “It’s delicious, is this a new recipe?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as he brought up the dinner you’d made instead of the ominous text message from earlier. “Well, yes it is, but-” 

“You should make it more often.” His words came out a little muffled through the next bite of fish he’d gotten. 

“Thank you, but I wasn't talking about the food.” You clarify. Under the table you are worrying your napkin between your fingers. 

Zayne hums, his tongue darting out to lick off excess maple glaze lingering on his lips. The movement catches your attention and you find yourself gripping the napkin tightly. “Is something else the matter?” 

“I was talking about the text you sent earlier.” Your words seem to kickstart something in his brain as he sits up straighter. 

You mirror his movement, sitting up in your seat as you study the way the city’s lights are illuminating his features. Telepathically urging him to just get on with whatever he has to say. You prepared yourself for the worst, but a life altering confession never came. 

“There’s a charity gala I’ve been invited to as head of the cardio surgery department. I wanted to make sure you could come as my plus one.” 

You let out a breath of relief. “Is that all?”

He reaches for his glass of water, looking at you with a small quirk of his eyebrow. “Were you expecting something else?” 

You shake your head, if only to avoid his striking green eyes boring into you for another second. “I didn’t know what to expect to be honest.” 

As you look at him you can make out a smirk he’s hiding behind his glass. <em>Was he teasing you on purpose?</em> 

“It’s nothing to be nervous about.” His deep voice reaches your ears, having the opposite effect of what his words intend to do. You take another sip of chardonnay, the smooth liquid leaving a warmth in your throat. “However… there is a black tie dress code.” 

You ponder over your closet, thinking of the classiest dresses you own, before Zayne catches you by surprise once again. “You can pick out whatever dress you’d like. I’ll leave my card with you tomorrow.” 

“I’m sure I could find something in my closet.” In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you could. However, the idea of using his card to buy something for yourself was already making your palms sweat. 

“I insist, just make me aware of whatever you choose.” He’s so nonchalant with his request, resuming his meal without sparing you another glance. It seems the conversation is over since he’s decided on you buying a new dress. It’s only fair that he wants to see it. Make sure his money was used wisely. 

You down the rest of your wine before eating your own food. 

—

Days later, you find yourself in the guest bedroom, inspecting yourself in the full length mirror. The dress you picked out was as flattering as could be, along with the tallest heels you could walk in successfully. You’d chosen something backless, mainly because it was your favorite color and one of the cheaper options in the high-end dress store Zayne had recommended.

Just as you turn to grab your bag you hear three quiet knocks on the door. The guest bedroom was the first room Zayne had shown you on the tour of the penthouse. You’d taken it as his way of showing you the room he wanted you to stay in. Since then, he hadn’t come into the room uninvited. 

Your heels click across the hardwood floors as you make your way to the door. You open it to see Zayne on the other side, his eyes finding your face and then moving over your figure. “Ready to go?” He asks. 

You swallow thickly before nodding, your own gaze falls on the long neck-tie draped on his chest. The same shade of the dress you’re wearing. As if the wedding rings on your respective fingers weren’t enough to mark you as a pair, he’d gone the extra mile to match you. 

He reaches out his left hand, the gold of the ring glinting in the light of your room before you take it. He guides you all the way down to his sleek expensive car, opening your door and helping you in. 

You rationalize his actions, of course he wants to practice his appearances for the night. He couldn’t afford people talking about his marriage being fake. 

You weren’t sure what to expect from the gala, you were a little surprised to have Zayne taken from your side almost as soon as you arrived. One of his coworkers asked his advice for something urgent. You found yourself alone, standing against one of the walls of the fancy banquet hall. 

You were nursing a champagne you’d barely taken a sip of. Watching Zayne from across the room where he was engaged in a conversation with a group of important people. You didn’t notice the man sidle up to you, “All alone this evening?” 

He was tall, though not taller than Zayne. Dark brown hair and blue eyes, you couldn’t help but think he looks remarkably plain. Especially compared to your husband. You shake your head at his question, letting your left hand rise enough for him to see the large diamond. “I’m here with my husband.” 

He took the opportunity to grab your hand, shaking it gently before getting a look at the ring. “Simon, it’s lovely to meet you. Is your husband one of the doctors here tonight?” 

His touch left an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. You introduced yourself before dropping his hand as quickly as you could. “My husband is over there.” 

You nod your head over in Zayne’s direction, but Simon doesn’t even turn his head. “Have you two been married long?” 

“A month.” You answer his question curtly, taking a sip of champagne to punctuate. 

“Newlyweds then.” He’s clearly grasping at straws to keep this conversation going. His eyes keep lingering over your body more than your face. You wish you had any excuse to leave the area, but Zayne is still clearly engrossed in whatever his colleagues are discussing. 

He speaks again, trying to get your attention back on him. “Is he treating you well?” 

Simon clearly has no reservations at making his intentions clear. You wonder if he’d bothered at looking at Zayne, if he’d still be so bold. You open your mouth to respond before a large hand is wrapping around your exposed back. 

“Dr. Zayne, head of the cardio department.” Your head snaps up to Zayne as he moves the hand not on your back to shake Simon’s. You’re not even sure how he’d managed to get over to you so quickly.

Simon looks intimidated to say the least, his face goes pale as his head moves to look up at Zayne. He takes the handshake, though it’s a late response. “Nice to meet you, I was just-”

Zayne cuts him off before he gets the chance to come up with an excuse. “Keeping my wife company?” 

You blush at the title, still unused to him calling you that. His warmth at your side is welcome, especially as the air conditioning nips at your exposed back. You fight the urge to lean in, Simon and the indistinct chatter of the party becoming afterthoughts. 

“I was just introducing myself, Doctor. No need to worry.” Simon was definitely trying to do more than introduce yourself, although you’re sure all three of you knew that already. 

“Well, it seems like your job here is done then.” You’ve never heard Zayne’s voice so… cold. You’re rethinking your previous assumption that Zayne disliked you. If this was how he spoke to those he truly dislikes. 

Simon seems to have gotten a burst of confidence, however. “With a wife as beautiful as yours, I wouldn’t leave her side.” You tense at his words, disturbed by the compliment and bracing yourself for Zayne’s response. 

“Luckily, I’m the one who gets to take her home and not you. I think it would be in your best interest to step away.” If your face could get any redder, it certainly does. 

Simon’s eyes go wide at Zayne’s comment. “Understood, have a good evening.” His expression is tight as he finally steps back. 

You don’t turn to look at Zayne until Simon has walked away, once you do he’s already looking at you. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

His hand hasn’t moved off your back, his voice has gained a softer tone. One you now know is reserved for you. You want to leave as soon as you can, but you don’t want to hold him back. “Do you have anyone else you need to talk to?”

“No one is as important as you.” Your breath hitches at his words. This is something you’ve never heard from Zayne before. Such an intimate expression, meant for your ears only. 

At your nod of approval, he guides you out of the banquet hall. He doesn’t spare a farewell to the group he was speaking to earlier, seemingly as desperate to escape as you. Perhaps, you were an excuse to leave. Even as you think that, his actions towards Simon make you second guess yourself. He seemed jealous, possessive even. You couldn't come up with <em>any</em> reason for such a genuine reaction. 

Unless Zayne was an incredible actor, you were pretty sure there was more to this arranged marriage than you had thought. 

Your mind races with thoughts up until Zayne locks the door behind you two. You move to head to your bedroom before he stops you. “Wait.” You turn, looking down at where his long slender fingers are wrapping loosely around your wrist. 

“I must apologize.” 

You blink up at him, utterly dumbfounded. “Apologize?” 

“For leaving you alone at the gala. I haven’t been fulfilling my duties as your husband. If you’re unhappy, I want you to speak your mind.” You take a minute to digest his words, over the course of the night your whole perception of Zayne has changed. 

He lets go of your wrist at your lack of response. Flexing his hand at his side instead, like he wants to reach out again, but is stopping himself. You finally find your voice. “Did you mean what you said?” 

He looks into your eyes with that piercing stare of his. “Of course.” 

You open your mouth, but close it once more. You wanted to ask about his previous actions, finally get the clarifications you’ve been searching for. He beats you to it, taking your hands in his. His touch stays as gentle as it always is, holding your hands tenderly. “You’re my wife. No one has any priority over you. If I’ve made you feel as though that’s not the case, I’d like to apologize for that as well.”

“Zayne.” The use of his name has him gripping your hands tighter for a fraction of a second. “I know our situation isn’t typical. I’m not expecting you to care for me in that way.” 

Oftentimes, trying to read his expression is like trying to read in a language you don’t speak. Now, when you look up at him, he looks <em>heartbroken.</em> 

“I do.” He speaks quietly. “Care for you.” 

The confession feels like a punch to the chest. You had no idea this was where the night would lead. You’re rendered speechless as he waits patiently for you to say anything. In your silence, he drops one of your hands to reach for your chin. He lifts your face until you’re looking at him. 

You can feel your heart beating against your ribs as you respond. “You make me so nervous.” 

Zayne hesitates in his movements, moving to take a step back before you stop him. You grip his hand tighter. “No, not like that.” You clarify before he can move further. 

“Of course I care for you. You’re one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen.” His eyebrows shoot up at that, he’s as shocked as you are that you’ve said that. You move on before the flush on your face can get any worse. “And I thought you didn’t like me. I’ve just been trying my best to make you happy, but you’re so hard to read. Every time I look at you, I have to stop myself from trying to get closer to you.” 

“You don’t have to stop yourself.” He blurts out. It’s the least control you’ve ever seen from him. “I’m sorry for making you think I didn’t like you. I’m more than happy to prove that <em>isn’t</em?> the case.”

You can’t help but think how backwards this all is. Getting married <em>and then</em> confessing your attraction for one another. You still have to clarify nonetheless. “Prove it how?” 

“However you’d like.” He lifts the hand still in his grip to his lips as he leaves a soft kiss there. 

You gasp quietly, the implication takes you by surprise as you picture the ways he could show you. His free hand grabs your waist, pulling you closer to his large frame. You try to stutter out a response, but your words come out stilted. 

“It seems like I’ve been neglecting my duties as your husband. Let me make it up to you.” He moves your hand he’s holding to his chest. You can feel the quick rate of his heart through his dress shirt, betraying his own nerves. His eyes catch your lips, making his intentions clear. “May I?” 

You nod in permission as he moves closer, stopping just before his lips can reach yours. “I need to hear you say it.” You think distantly that he is teasing you once again, but you give in. Letting out a breathless “<em>Yes,</em>” that he cuts off with the press of his lips. 

It isn’t your first time kissing, since you’d kissed at the altar. However, this is much different than the diplomatic kiss from before. His lips are <em>insistent</em> against yours. Pressing firmly before moving away to change the angle in the fraction of a second. He moves both of his hands to grab your hips, squeezing over the lavish material of your dress. The movement has you gasping against his lips. He uses the opening to slot his tongue over your lips. 

He tastes like the sweet puffs they were serving at the banquet and you couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than this moment. He pulls away to look over you intently, his eyes catching on your lips that must be swollen from his ministrations. 

His voice sounds deeper than normal when he speaks. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to control myself.” 

You move your hand from his dress shirt to his tie. You tug it gently, having no problems finding his eyes now. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He looks a little surprised at your words, not expecting you to be so direct maybe. He uses his grip on your hips to move you backwards. “Is that what you really want?” 

With a quiet, “Yes, Zayne.” He’s carrying you bridal style towards his bedroom. Kicking the door open and sitting you down on the edge of the bed. He tears off his glasses before speaking. 

“Then allow me to consummate this marriage.” He pulls his tie off before taking off his suit jacket. The sight of him undressing in front of you causing you to squeeze your thighs together. 

His eyes are drawn to the movement, causing the side of his lips to quirk in amusement. Once all of his buttons are undone, showing off the lean muscles of his torso and chest he moves forward. One hand falls on your thigh while the other moves under the strap to your dress. “I know how you’re feeling darling. This dress was driving me mad.” 

His knee presses into the mattress on your side as he moves closer. His face finding your neck and trailing kisses back to your face. You whimper quietly, his teasing leaving you shaking. You reach his hand out for his belt, but he stops you before you can. 

“So impatient, let me prepare you first.” He allows you to put your hand on his shoulder as he kneels between your legs. The sight of him looking up at you leaves you biting down on your lip. 

He tsks, his thumb is warm as he smooths it over your lip. “Wanna hear you. Won’t you take your dress off for me?” 

You nod, your hands coming to slide the straps of your dress off, exposing your breasts to the open air. He moves his hands to help slide the dress off of you all the way. Leaving you in just your soaked panties in front of him. You want to look away, but his serious expression is captivating as his eyes rake over you. 

He takes the final step to hook his fingers on the edge of your panties, his hands still avoiding touching you anywhere but the meat of your thighs. “Zayne…” His name comes out in a whine, your hands gripping the sheets on either side of you. 

He hums, his face moving closer to your thigh so he can leave a wet kiss there. “Love it when you say my name.” He drags his tongue closer to your core, before pulling his face away to look at you. 

“Please…” You trail off, your voice failing when he stands up. 

“Please what?” He lifts up one of your legs to help you lie on the bed. Climbing over you as he braces one of his arms beside your head. His other hand touches your breast, kneading slightly. 

“Touch me.” You tell him, though you think the way your hips lift for friction is enough to display what you want. 

“I am touching you.” His thumb tweeks your nipple as proof, a stilted moan spills from your lips. 

You’re sure your face is bright red at this point, though he must enjoy the sight because his eyes are glued to your face. “Please Zayne, touch my pussy.” 

He leans forward until his mouth is close to your ears, he murmurs a quiet, “Good girl.” To accompany his praise, two of his slender fingers part your folds, sliding easily through the slick. “You’re so wet for me, almost ready for my cock?” 

You mewl loudly as he precisely circles your clit. Your thighs clamp down on his hand, trapping it over your heat. His filthy words only make you wetter, gushing over his digits. You hadn’t thought he’d be so vulgar, but you certainly aren’t complaining. “Hah… I’m ready, Zayne.” 

He groans in response, his lips pressing over your neck and down to your collarbone. You move one of your legs up until it makes contact with his groin, feeling evidence of his own arousal. His dick is rock hard where it’s straining against the slacks he never took off. The second he feels your leg against it, his hand moves away from your pussy, making you whine. 

“So needy… you just need me to fill you up that bad? When I’m trying to take my time with you?” He moves his face away from the mark he was leaving on your collarbone to look at you. 

You find it hard to keep eye contact when his green eyes are looking at you so sternly, but you manage it. “Yes, please. I need you.” 

His Adam apple bobs as he swallows, seemingly thinking it over before coming to his conclusion. “So be it.” He leans away from you, his hands coming to undo his belt and push his dress pants off. He isn’t taking his time anymore, his movements are hurried until the offending clothing is thrown on the floor. 

You can’t help yourself from glancing down at his leaking cock, red and swollen from being neglected. He pumps it slowly from the base to the tip as he looks over your exposed body. You fight the urge to close your thighs. Focusing instead on the quiet huffs coming from his mouth, the previously stoic man you once knew finally losing his cool. 

You think about sitting up and putting him in your mouth, your own needs falling to the sidelines, but before you can he’s moving forward. He grabs either of your legs to wrap around himself so there’s enough room for him to slide between them. You let out a whimper as his member makes contact over your pussy, grazing your clit. 

He lets out a small grunt in response, taking intense focus as he lines himself up in front of you. “Are you ready to take me darling?” 

The words make you shiver, but you manage to let out a small affirmation. As soon as it’s out of your mouth, he’s slowly sheathing himself in you. You aren’t sure if he’s taking his time to tease you more, or if he’s being considerate. Regardless, the way his cock splits you open as you arch against him has you reaching up to grab his shoulders. 

“Zayne…” His name comes out high-pitched and breathy. His stoic expression cracks at the noise, his eyes shut as he focuses on the feeling of your walls squeezing over every vein of his member. 

You feel stretched open by the time he’s fully buried in your core. The hand not bracing himself up has come to hold onto your hip tightly, like he’s stopping himself from pounding into you right away. You reply by tightening your legs around him, the heel of your foot pressing into his back. 

His eyes open when he begins to slide out of you, making sure he can watch your expression once he thrusts into you. Your mouth falls open in surprise as he manages to hit your g-spot with the first thrust. He smirks slightly, like he’s proud of himself before he slides his hand up to cup your face. “Ready for more?” 

You want to shout that you’ve been ready this whole time. Instead, his fingers slide into your mouth, allowing you to suck on them while he starts to thrust into you rhythmically. Your hips move in time with his, allowing him to slide into you even deeper. The blinding friction you’ve been waiting for has you digging your nails into his shoulders.

His head falls forward, losing focus as you hear him groan beside your ear. “Take me so good, love the way you squeeze me.” You’re moaning around his fingers, even as some drool manages to leak from the sides of your lips. 

As his speed picks up, you can feel where your shared arousal has begun to pool at the base of his cock. He moves his fingers out of your mouth, making a path down to your clit before getting distracted by your pert nipples. Without his fingers stunting the noise, you moan loudly as he pinches the sensitive bud between his soaked fingers. 

He moves his face back to yours when his hand finally reaches its destination on your bundle of nerves. He’s more than pleased when your face contorts with pleasure at the added stimulation. “Are you close? Going to cum around my cock?” 

You try to nod, but he slows down his speed when you don’t respond. “Want to hear you.” 

“Yes! I’m almost there Zayne, don’t stop.” Your desperation for him to keep moving allows you to shout out, which he takes in stride. 

He loses his rhythm, chasing his own finish while his lips find yours in a messy kiss. His tongue licks over yours as small grunts escape the back of his throat. Your hands rake down his back, searching for something to ground yourself since you feel your orgasm approaching. 

You finish in tandem, feeling the warmth of his cum spilling inside you. Your kiss loses its momentum as you call out loudly. Zayne is quiet, but you can feel his whole body shake against you while he grinds the tail-end of his orgasm against you. 

He leans back to look over at your spent expression once both of your aftershocks have subsided. Zayne himself looks prostrate, his eyes lidded and his dark hair sticking to his forehead. You move one of your hands to run through his hair as he looks at you fondly. “Thank you.” He whispers. 

You aren’t sure if it’s for your action, or for the sex as a whole. You think it’s a little silly for him to thank his own wife for such things, but you’re touched nonetheless. You lean forward to peck his lips once more. 

Even after all the lewd acts you’ve just done, the kiss brings a redness to the tips of his ears that wasn’t there before. <em>Cute</em> is the word you’d use to describe him. 

Eventually, he has to pull out of you, though he seems pained to do so. He moves to the attached bathroom of the main bedroom to grab a towel. You almost melt into the sheets when you feel the warm towel he wipes you with. He’s very methodical, making sure you’re thoroughly clean before discarding the towel and offering you one of his shirts to wear. 

“Is this okay?” He’s sure to ask, in case you would prefer your own clothes instead. 

Of course you’re more than okay with wearing his shirt and you slip it over your head gratefully. You almost panic when he leaves the room, but you’re pleased when he comes back with a glass of cold water for you. On his way back in, he admires the sight of you in his bed until he dims the lights. He puts it on the nightstand before slipping under the sheets beside you. 

He reaches out to pull you against him before pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “Are you going to start sleeping in here from now on?” He asks into the darkness. 

With a swift knock on the door, you stumbled into Rebekah’s mansion – hands full of coffee, her breakfast and some bottles of wine.

“Hellooo?” you sing song out, looking around for the blonde Mikaelson. She appears at the top of the grand, curved staircase, a pleasant grin on her face as she makes her way down, trash bag in hand.

“Oh, Charlotte, you didn’t have to do all that,” she says, approaching you and taking some of the load from your hands, guiding you toward the coffee table in the sitting room.

“Stop, it was no big deal,” you shrug, placing down the to-go box and bottle of wine.

“Wine huh? This early in the day?” she teases with a smirk not unlike her brother’s.

“I figure we should treat ourselves after we clean up this wreck,” you grin.

“I like the way you think,” she concurs. “I truly don’t understand how teenagers make such a mess.”

“Agreed,” you roll your eyes, ripping off a trash bag from where the roll is placed on the counter.

Cleaning up only took about an hour, which the two of you filled with music and chit chat to pass the time. Rebekah compelled herself a maid to do the remainder of the disinfecting type cleaning, paying her a handsome fee so that you guys could move on from the dreadful task.

“So, I need your help,” Rebekah states as she comes back into the room with a garment rack on wheels full of dresses. “I have nothing to wear for this pageant!” she exclaims.

A chuckle escapes your lips as you stand up, doing a once over of the dresses hung on the rack.

“I am sure that’s not true,” you respond sarcastically, seeing at least twenty or more dresses on the rack alone. “And I suspect you have more than just this,” you tease. Rebekah grins as she disappears back into her closet, coming out with not one but two more garment racks.

“Oh my God!” you laugh. “I own maybe ten dresses, tops.”

“Yes well, I am centuries older, love,” she smiles. “And this isn’t all of it either, just what I have at this house. I have loads more,” she shrugs like it’s not as big a deal as you think it is.

“We’re going to need a fashion show,” you laugh, reaching out to touch the lace on a dress.

“Already on it!” she claps her hands and five girls walk into the room, already wearing dresses.

“Rebekah!” you laugh aloud, attempting to scold her for compelling the girls for her personal use but also finding it pretty funny.

“What? I paid them to be here, just compelled them to be quiet and obedient!”

Another laugh escapes your lips and you shake your head.

“If Elena could see this…” you start, chuckling at all the things she’d have to say about ‘free will’ and ‘taking advantage.’

“Ugh, thankfully she’s not!” Rebekah rolls her eyes.

“Alright, let’s see,” you step closer and stand in front of the five girls. “No, no, definitely not, maybe, and… maybe,” you point at each dressed girl, leaving the two remaining that were wearing a red cocktail dress and a black lace mid-length dress.

“I like you more by the minute,” Rebekah grins, dismissing the girls to change and sort their dresses.

The next three hours pass by in a flash, both of you having a great time sipping wine, trying on dresses and enjoying your private fashion show. Rebekah convinced you that you ‘simply must’ borrow one of her dresses for the pageant, after you mentioned how you had nothing to wear and no interest in Miss Mystic Falls – however, you were obligated to go.

“Dark colors look so good on you,” Rebekah compliments as you try on your third black dress.

“Matches my attitude,” you joke.

“Rebekah?!” a male voice calls out from the front room

“Is that–” you start, your confident aura suddenly dropping, and Rebekah rolls her eyes.

“What do you want, Nik?” she hollers as she stomps toward the large open doorway. Klaus appears before she even gets there. Suddenly self-conscious in the black dress, you move to turn down the music on your phone, slightly out of his view.

“What? Can’t I simply come over to visit my baby sister?” he asks as he saunters into the room, his gaze immediately finding you.

“No, not usually,” Rebekah sneers.

“Charlotte,” Klaus greets, doing a once-over of you. “I see my sister has you thoroughly occupied,” he teases sarcastically.

“We are prepping for the Miss Mystic Pageant this weekend, for your information,” Rebekah growls, snatching a dress he had picked up from his hands.

“Ah, and you’re going to this…pageant?” he asks you.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t have a choice. Founding family obligation," you explain unenthusiastically. 

"Ah yes, Charlotte Fell,” he responds, emphasizing your surname, his knowledge of it catching you off guard.

“Why are you here, Nik?” Rebekah huffs.

“Well, it would appear that Elena has solved our problem with the hunter… I came to share the delightful news,” he glares at his sister. 

“So then we won’t be able to find the cure, after all…” Rebekah sighs.

“Precisely,” Klaus grins happily.

The five girls come back into the room in their new dresses at this moment, interrupting whatever Rebekah was about to say. Klaus makes himself comfortable in a chair, stretching his arm out and looking you up and down once again.

“Do you mind? We’re busy,” Rebekah growls.

“Not at all. By all means… continue,” Klaus smirks, pouring himself a glass of wine from his seat.

Rebekah huffs loudly and turns to you.

“Honestly, he is such an arse,” she groans, turning her attention to the girls. “You can go now, forget everything, take the money,” she compels them, and they go back into the walk in closet to change.

You look at the pile of dresses set aside for yourself that had caught your eye.

“I still think the red is the best,” Rebekah says softly, referring to a red one in your pile that you tried on earlier.

“It’s way too revealing,” you remind her.

“So? It’s sexy.”

“Let’s see it, then,” Klaus speaks up from his seat, catching your attention.

“No way,” you respond.

“Oh come on, I won’t judge,” he grins.

“Unfortunately, I have to agree with my bastard brother here and insist. It’s my favorite.”

With a sigh, you pick up the red dress and go to change into it. Your nerves build up quickly as you slide it on your body in the large closet, afraid of what Klaus may think or say when he sees it on you. It is a halter top, form fitting cocktail dress that left very little to the imagination. Yes, it’s sexy – but it makes you feel very… seen.

Stepping out hesitantly, Klaus’s face drops when he sees you. His lips are parted and he places down his wine glass that he was just about to drink from. You see his eyes trail slowly down your frame, taking you in.

“See? Sexy,” Rebekah confirms.

“It’s too much,” you state, crossing your arms, feeling insecure.

“My sister is right,” Klaus starts, still taking you in, before his eyes finally return to meet yours. “But as are you. It isn’t your style. You should feel comfortable, you’re clearly not,” Klaus points out.

“But she looks so good! Plus it’ll catch the attention of every guy there,” she smirks at you, as if that is what you want. Klaus’s face falls and he glares at his sister for a short moment before looking back at you.

“Even more reason to pick another,” he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant.

Suddenly, he stands, approaching you, and picking up a black lace dress. He turns to you, close enough that his body heat is radiating onto you, and outstretches his hand, offering the dress to you. “Try this one,” he says softly.

You hesitantly take the dress from his hand, your fingers brushing his as you do, and scamper back into the closet to change, eager to try on a dress that he picked himself. Why? You didn’t know the answer to that question yourself, just that you really liked the idea of wearing something that Klaus liked.

You stepped out hesitantly once again, but not feeling as exposed as before. It is a black halter top dress that is shorter in the front, long in the back with layers that flow out elegantly. The dress hugs your curves and bust without exposing them, and the dark color helps to conceal you a little more. There is lace trimming around the neckline and a lacey cut-out on each side of your waist.

“Well?” you ask when neither of them speak, but are both staring at you.

“That’s the one,” Rebekah speaks up, clasping her hands together once in approval.

Klaus takes you in then nods once, swallowing thickly and taking a step back to grab his wine.

“You look stunning,” he concurs, and you feel your cheeks heat up immediately.

“Thank you…” you blush, looking in the mirror. “I like it, this feels more me.”

“Ah, now we have to finish deciding on mine!” Rebekah places your wine glass back into your hands and grabs your bicep, pulling you over to her pile. “We’ve narrowed it down to three – the green, blue and gold.”

She holds the green one up and looks in the mirror, and you take the moment to lean against the table beside Klaus. The other chair in the dressing room connected to Rebekah’s closet was stuffed full of dresses, and Klaus stole the only other seat. You leaned your bottom against the fine wood, taking a sip of your wine before placing the glass down behind you, leaning your palms against the edge. You try to ignore how close Klaus is, and how you are standing over him, his eyes burning into your body.

“I like the green, but I just wore a green gown to our wretched Mother’s ball… So I’m thinking blue or gold.”

Klaus rolls his eyes and grins up at you, acting bored.

“I like the blue but it feels more like an evening dress,” you give your opinion, and Rebekah swaps the green dress to hold the blue one up in the mirror.

“You’re right, it does,” she inspects herself, then glances at the pile of dresses. “So, who is taking you?” Rebekah suddenly asks without turning around. You furrow your brow and shrug.

“I was planning to go alone, I don’t even want to go in the first place,” you respond, ignoring Klaus’s burning gaze beside you.

“Surely guys have asked,” she says it more like a statement than a question, and grabs the gold dress.

“Well… Yeah,” you start, and now Klaus’s gaze feels like he is burning right through you. “But I said no,” you shrug.

“So you’d rather go alone?” Rebekah finally turns and shoots you a confused look.

“Than go with someone I don’t like or don’t want to lead on… Yeah.”

“Huh,” she shrugs, turning back to the mirror and looking at the gold dress. “You should go with Matt, at least.

You scoff aloud and head back into the closet to change into your regular clothes.

“He’s my best friend, not a date,” you call out.

“That’s why he’d be perfect – no confusing feelings, no strings.”

You ponder it in your head for a short moment, and realize that she does have a point. If you were to go with anyone, it would be best to go with him… But you secretly wished you could go with Klaus… Not that you expected him to ask, or to even attend in the first place.

“You make a good point, but he’s not going, and I really don’t mind going alone,” 

“I’ll take you,” Klaus suddenly speaks up right as you walk back out. Both yours and Rebekah’s heads snap to him, but he looks unphased and confident, even shrugging casually.

“What?” you ask, as if you heard him wrong.

“I will gladly escort you to this little pageant, if you would like,” he grins.

“You? Go to a pageant? For no apparent reason?” Rebekah asks, crossing her arms.

“Not for no reason – to escort Charlotte here,” Klaus side-eyes her, but keeping his focus on you. Your heart is thumping in your chest and you momentarily don’t know what to say.

“Mm… You must really fancy her,” Rebekah grumbles, and Klaus shoots a glare in her direction.

“Well?” he asks once his gaze is redirected back to you.

“Oh, well… Uh… I would like that…” you start. “But you don’t have to feel obligated–”

“Great, it’s settled then,” he grins at you, somewhat arrogantly.

“So you’re just stealing her from me then?” Rebekah glares.

“You were just offering her up to the quarterback,” Klaus points out with a less than pleased expression, standing from his chair. He grins as he passes by, and you can smell his cologne as he walks by, his aura as he walks leaving you breathless as he heads to the doorway. “I have some business to finish up… I will meet you there, then, love,” he smirks before heading for the stairs, leaving you speechless and once again alone with Rebekah.

“He is infuriating,” she grumbles under her breath. “Are you okay? Have you forgotten how to breathe?” she asks, seemingly concerned and sarcastic. You clear your throat and nod, trying to regain composure and ignore the thoughts racing through your head of being Klaus’s date.

“Guess you don’t have to worry about finding a dress Nik will like… seeing as he picked that one,” she motions to the dress you were still holding in your hand, which you look down at and blush once more. “Wow, you really do fancy him… Just look at you,” she teases. “Have you met my brother? I know he can be charismatic, but he can also be a huge arse.”

You giggle and shrug, unsure what to say in response.

“Ugh, makes me sick,” she groans, but you see that she’s not being fully serious.

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

If you want to be tagged when I post the next chapter, drop a comment! I try to post one chapter per week. The full book is also on Wattpad, baseballbitch116.

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you backward until your spine was flushed against Klaus’s broad, solid chest. The sheer, grounding warmth of him hit you instantly. He didn't ask what happened; he didn't demand names or threats to execute. He just held you, his chin resting gently on top of your head, anchoring you to reality.

"Breathe, love," he whispered, his thumbs tracing soothing circles into your hips. "Just breathe. You're safe. I'm right here."

You gripped his forearms, your knuckles turning white. "It felt so real, Klaus. It won't stop."

"Then we won't let it," he said softly.

Recognizing that sleep was a lost cause for now, Klaus shifted, pulling you back with him until he was propped up against the headboard. He guided your head to rest right over his heart, forcing you to focus on its steady, rhythmic thumping—a stark contrast to the chaotic franticness of your own.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your damp forehead.

"No," you croaked, burying your face in his neck. "I just... I need a distraction. Anything. Just talk to me? Turn my brain off."

A small, tender smile tugged at Klaus’s lips in the dark. The Hybrid, the Great Evil of New Orleans, the man feared by thousands, was being asked to yap. And for you, he would gladly talk a hole in the wall.

"Alright," he murmured, his fingers threading through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. "Let’s see. Did I ever tell you about the absolute disaster that was Marcel’s attempt to learn the cello in the late 1920s?"

You let out a weak, breathless laugh, the tension in your shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch. "No."

"Oh, it was an offense to the ears, love. Truly," Klaus began, his voice dropping into that rich, theatrical storytelling cadence that never failed to mesmerize you. "He was convinced that if he mastered it, he could woo a particular songstress from the local jazz club. Elijah, bless his rigid soul, tried to tutor him. But Marcel had the grace of a dying ox with that bow. It sounded like a symphony of strangling cats. I actually had to compel an entire block of neighbors to believe they were suffering from collective auditory hallucinations just to keep the peace."

You closed your eyes, letting the vibration of his chest rumble against your cheek. Klaus kept going, seamlessly transitioning from Marcel's musical failures to a scathing, hilarious critique of 18th-century French poetry, and then to a passionate, highly opinionated rant about a modern art gallery opening he had visited a few weeks ago.

"They called it 'Avant-Garde minimalism,' Y/N," he scoffed, his fingers never stopping their gentle rhythm in your hair. "It was a canvas painted entirely white with a single, tragic red dot in the lower corner. The curator wept. Wept! I told him I’d seen better composition on a butcher's apron, and Elijah had to drag me out by my collar before I ripped the man's throat out purely on principle of aesthetic offense."

You giggled, a genuine, warm sound that finally chased the last remnants of the nightmare from your mind.

Hearing you laugh, Klaus slowed his speech, his tone softening into something incredibly sweet. He shifted down into the pillows, pulling you with him so you were face-to-face, your noses almost touching. His blue-green eyes searched yours in the dim moonlight.

"Better?" he asked, his thumb gently wiping away the faint tear tracks on your cheek.

"Much better," you whispered, the exhaustion finally hitting you, but this time, it was a heavy, peaceful kind of tired. "Thank you."

"Always," Klaus murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose, and finally to your lips. He pulled the heavy duvet up over your shoulders, tucking you securely against his side. "Sleep now, my sweet girl. I'll be right here, watching the dark. Nothing is getting past me."

Breathing in his familiar scent of expensive bourbon, paint paint oil, and old parchment, you finally let your eyes close. With Klaus guarding your mind, the nightmares didn't stand a chance.

Klaus hadn’t met Y/N when she and Hayley came to Mystic Falls. He’d heard her name mentioned once or twice my Hayley or Tyler but never seen her. Not until New Orleans.

She was sweet looking, like that classic ‘girl next door’ kind. It wasn’t Klaus’s usual type, but that didn’t mean she didn’t make his pulse raise when she bend over to get the cereal box from the bottom cupboard. His eyes zeroed on her ass, his throat bobbing when bright pink lace peaked over the top of her pajama pants.

He watched the spoon slide into her mouth, the milk wetting her lips until her tongue licked them clean. When she noticed his staring she smiled, her head tilting and teeth shining.

“Do you want some?” She offered her spoon and Klaus cleared his throat.

“No, thank you love.” He glanced back down at his sketchpad quietly, the page still blank. Klaus couldn’t help but glance back once she put the dish in the sink and headed back up the stairs, her hips swaying and lace still on display.

Y/N was a nice little distraction, something for his eyes to wander over whilst he thought. He’d admire the tight tops she chose, the way the fabric stretched across her breasts. Whenever he saw lace, he thought of her underwear. Pictured the pink of her panties or the white of her bra.

But she behaved oblivious to his attention. She had Hayley played around, entertaining each other whilst Klaus and Rebekah tried to get Elijah back.

Klaus had been trying to draw again, sat on the couch with the pad and pencil in hand, brows furrowed as he tried to focus. He flinched when the table beside him was knocked, the tin of pencils falling to the floor.

“Oh- I’m sorry.” Y/N sunk down to get them, kneeling right between his legs whilst she gathered the pencils.

Klaus groaned and placed his hand on her head, his fingers sliding into her hair. Y/N popped her head up, looking up at him whilst he stroked her head quietly. Klaus didn’t know how she could look so sweet whilst in such a compromising position. She smiled when he caressed her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb before brushing over her bottom lip. His breath hitched when she parted her lips, letting his thumb into her mouth.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he pushed his thumb back and forth along her tongue whilst his other hand undid his belt. Y/N was more than happy when he pulled his thumb away, replacing it with the head of his cock. She let out a little giggle as she sucked it, her eyes still up on his. He shushed her softly, his hand stroking his length whilst he watched her toy with the tip.

His eyes glanced at the stairs, his hearing focused but Hayley was asleep and Rebekah was out. Once he was sure, he pushed his cock into her mouth, watching her eyes flutter as she fit half of him in.

“Good…like that” he praised, sliding his hands back into her hair when she began to bob her head. He could feel her tongue brushing over him, circling and teasing. Klaus shifted further forward on his seat, soon standing and holding her head still so he could fuck her sweet face. The little moans she let out vibrated around him, the tension stirring inside his loins.

He held a fistful of her hair, his eyes still on hers as her lashes wetted with tears. He could feel his cock hit the back of her throat, but not once did Y/N make a sound of protest. Klaus let out a breathless laugh when he came, amusement filling him when she moaned enthusiastically, swallowing eagerly.

She took a breath when he pulled out of her mouth, the back of her hand wiped her lips and she smiled back at him. Klaus zipped his jeans back up before taking her hand, pulling Y/N to stand.

His eyes narrowed just slightly as he leant down, his face just before hers. He kissed the side of her neck slowly, nipping the skin and listening to her giggle at the sensation.

“Shh” he whispered, a smile tugging at his lips as he stretched her shirt down, revealing her bra. His eyes flicked to the stairs again before he unclipped the back and pulled it off her. His mouth watered and she let out a small moan when he swirled her nipple into his mouth. Klaus let his hands slide round her, down to her hips. He pushed her sweatpants down, running his palms over the lace covering her ass. “Come here.” He murmured, hands going under her thighs as his mouth left her skin.

“Mmh” she breathed, legs going up around his hips before he laid her down on the couch. He pulled the panties off her legs, leaning down to nuzzle her thighs. Klaus pushed her legs up, Y/N squealed and bended to his will. She held her own ankles, teeth against her bottom lip while he slid his tongue across her pussy. Klaus chuckled when she shifted her hips, practically pushing her clit to his lips.

His eyes pierced up into hers whilst his tongue circled the little bud, feeling it pulse eagerly.

“Faster” she whispered and Klaus raised both brows but complied, lapping quickly and bringing his fingers to her cunt. Y/N moaned, her head leaning back as he slide them back and forth. “There…” she breathed and he curled his fingers, impressed by how well she knew her body. How quickly she came once she’d tugged his hair, guiding him just as she wanted.

Klaus panted softly, lifting his face to look back at her. His mouth and chin wet as he stroked her thighs, guiding her legs back down. She stretched slowly, like a cat that had just woken. Klaus groaned softly and brushed his fingers up her body, her shirt had covered her breasts but his fingers easily found the still hardened bud through the fabric. He tugged gently, shushing her playfully when she moaned.

“You should…get to bed, love.” He whispered, still admiring her body as he watched her sit up. Y/N reached for her underwear but klaus held the lace tight in his hand. She smiled with a laugh and pulled her joggers on without her panties, grabbing her bra before heading up the stairs. Klaus stayed sat on the couch a moment longer, his fingers caressing the material slowly.

Nothing changed. She still behaved oblivious, bouncing around in a new thong, jeans always too low. Hayley never mentioned anything. Klaus could only smirk internally when he saw her sucking a lollipop, her eyes wondering over to his whilst her tongue licked it over in a long, slow motion.

Soon, they were in the abattoir. Life was busy again and Klaus had been up late again. His mind went back to that evening and so he made his way to Y/N’s new room. But his brows furrowed when he twisted the handle, as soon as the door opened just a crack, the silencing spell was lifted and he could hear her familiar moans. His lips parted when he heard a man making similar sounds.

The door opened, just enough for him to see. His eyes narrowed as he watched her move on top one of Marcels vampires. Body bouncing and head back whilst the man’s hands squeezed her hips tight, his own hips snapping up.

Slowly, Klaus retreated, closing the door soundlessly, the silencing barrier back up. Quietly, he went back to his own room. His eyes closed as he plucked the pair of panties he’d stolen from her before, wrapping the lace around his cock before stroking himself with them slowly.

In the morning, she was her usual bright self. Smiling happily at him and once again offering his breakfast, once again he declined and continued to stare.

“What?” She asked, a laugh on her lips when she saw his eyes on her chest. She tossed her spoon, smiling when he caught it, his attention flicking back to her eyes.

“Where were you last night?” He questioned and she shrugged.

“My room.” She answered easily and he hummed.

“Sleeping?”

“Sure.” Her answer was noncommittal, her shrug irritating him just a little.

“I want you to come to my room tonight.” He told her and she stood with her bowl.

“Sure.” She answered again and he felt his eye twitch, but sure enough, Y/N pushed his door open that evening.

Klaus tugged her clothes off, his fingers running over another man’s marks across her skin. Her hips lightly bruised, thighs and waist still red. She could see his jaw tick, his eyes hardening as he gripped the same spot tighter, harder. “That hurts.” She whispered, but still, she laughed when he squeezed again.

Klaus pulled her over his lap, her stomach on his thighs whilst he stroked her bare back. He could feel his frustration rising, his hand brushed over the sensitive skin of her ass, debating hitting her; punishing her.

“Are you jealous?” She asked, looking at him over her shoulder, a full toothed grin on her face as his hand came down, the slap ringing out across the room. Her body flinched naturally but she only moaned and giggled, still looking back at him.

“Jealous of what?” He muttered, spanking the flesh once, twice, three times more. He admired the way the skin rippled and reddened. The scent of her arousal filled his nose, his eyes flickering gold as his cock hardened further. “That you sleep with any man you see?” He spat, slapping her again, the ‘clap’ becoming louder each time until her moans finally became a hiss of pain. Klaus felt a tiny bubble of guilt when she looked back at him, her eyes shiny and a little scared as well as excited.

Slowly, his hand caressed her ass, soothing the skin. She let a smile back onto her face before beginning to move, Klaus let her come to nuzzle his jaw. His mouth soon on hers and his hands less harsh on her skin.

Her hands pulled at his clothes, eventually leaving them both bare as he rolled her onto her back. Y/N opened her legs without any hesitation, his body between them naturally and his tongue around hers. Y/N held one side of his face, her thumb against his stubble whilst she moaned into his mouth, her tongue eager against his. Klaus pulled back only long enough to push his cock into her before he kissed her again, desperate to swallow her sounds.

Y/N pulled back, about to demand he move but Klaus did so before she could. His hips moving in a swift motion, effectively knocking the air out of her lungs. He groaned when her leg lifted, stretching up to rest against his shoulder. “Fuck…” Klaus whispered, driving his hips forward again to feel her squeeze around him.

The sound she let out made his eyes roll back, he moved quickly, letting her angle herself before he ploughed into the spot she begged him to keep hitting. His fingers interlaced with hers before he stretched her arms over her head, his face just above hers as he watched his hips thrust flush against hers.

“Really fast!” she whined and he nodded, moving as quickly as he could without supernatural speed but Y/N kept begging. Klaus let his bed fall forward, his forehead against her hair as he came inside her, moving at an impossibly speed whilst she cried out in delight. He hadn’t even teased her clit for her to come, her skin flushed and leg still up between theme.

Klaus groaned when she began to move, he released her hands and let her leg move back down comfortably before pulling out of her.

A slight feeling of surprise hit him when she sat up and instead of making a move to leave, turned around. On her hands and knees with her ass presented to him. Klaus only moaned and stared at her glistening pussy. Her hips flexed back and she looked over her shoulder. “What’re you waiting for?” She asked, a giggle in her voice as he crawled forward to her.

His mouth watered and he couldn’t help but press his tongue to her again, swallowing her sweetness before settling onto his knees behind her. Filling her from behind made his head spin in a new way. There was something utterly filthy about the sounds that came out of her, how eager she was to bend and stretch however she could so long as it made her feel good.

Klaus fucked her until dawn, only then did she appear to show signs of tiring. He’d lifted her back off his dick, his own body getting overstimulated but he prepared to take her again when she let out a soft sound. Klaus turned her, seeing her lips parted in a pant and skin slick with sweat. “Tired?” He whispered and she gave a small nod, Klaus nodded back and gently laid her down on his bed. The sheets stuck to her skin but neither of them cared enough.

When he woke, she was gone.

He found her downstairs with Hayley, laughing at something on one of their phones. Full of light and energy, as if he hadn’t bend her over every way possible, had her screaming until the sun came up.

When Klaus sat down on the chair opposite them, she merely gave him a glance and a smile before returning to Hayley’s phone.

Klaus quickly found that if he hadn’t snatched her up first, she’d be satisfied by someone else.

Whilst Y/N formed little emotional attachment to Klaus, he had taken too much of an interest. Which resulted in him scaring a man out of her bed in the middle of the night.

“Stop yelling!” She cried, her face still full of sleep as he sat naked in the centre of her bed. Klaus slammed the door behind the man, tossing his clothes into the bin and dragging the sheets off the bed, her along with it. “Klaus-“ she pushed him, hands against his chest. His head snapped and for a second he felt his hand clench into a fist but at the sight of her face, he felt himself soften.

“Who is he?” Klaus questioned, pulling apart her duvet and then coming to rest his hands against her waist.

“I don’t know.” She frowned, confused. “His names Darryl or something, why does it matter?”

“Because he’s in your bed.” He scoffed, though there was less anger in his eyes now. Klaus didn’t understand her, but he came to the realisation that perhaps there was something that he did need to understand. “Don’t you care about him? Even a little to have sex with him?”

“No” she frowned. “I just met him.”

“Well what about me? You sleep with me all the time.” He queried and she hesitated.

“Well I don’t know.” She answered, and he huffed softly. Klaus pulled her close, her naked body against his clothed one. He rest his chin on top her head and frowned quietly into the night.

“Well I care about you.” He whispered, “I don’t want you to be with anyone else.” It was vulnerable of him, something he rarely allowed and he knew it was risky.

“But…that’s not fair.” She frowned, moving to look up at him. “I don’t want a relationship.”

Klaus stared back at her, his eye flickering between hers. “What if I satisfy you every night?” He offered and she stayed quiet, thinking. “If I don’t, you can find someone else.” A lump formed in his throat at the proposition but he knew she was considering it.

“Well…I’ll have to speak to Hayley.” She muttered and his brows pinched in confusion.

“Okay…” he agreed quietly, not wanting to ask why. “Come sleep in my bed tonight, I’ll have your bedding cleaned tomorrow.” He led her along, settling her down against his pillows before taking his place between her legs as a last act to gain her interest in his offer.

The next day, he came across Hayley who was perched expectantly on the edge of his bed.

“Look, I know you like her, but it just not a good idea-“ she started and Klaus pushed the door closed, folding his arms. “I get that she’s good in bed, she’ll still sleep with you, but she can’t do a relationship Klaus.”

“And why not?” He questioned, brow raised.

“She’s been through a lot, and she can’t do commitment. She’ll hurt you or you’ll hurt her. And she’s insatiable, her wolf-“

“She’s a werewolf?” Klaus questioned, growing more confused by the second.

“You don’t smell it?” She frowned, mirroring his confusion.

“No, I-“ but he cut himself off, thinking back. She’d always smelt sweet, but Klaus had assumed it was because of how delicious she was. He hadn’t ever seen her eyes change, had he? But he’d taken her from so many positions, and most of them didn’t allow him to see her face. Thinking about it, sometimes her whines were a little too high, her cries almost a howl. “She’s a wolf.” He murmured, glancing at his bed quietly as he remembered it all. Hayley followed his eye line and quickly stood up, grimacing after having touched the sheets.

“Yeah” she nodded, like it was obvious, because it was, he’d just never realised it. “Most wolves sex drives are pretty high, it’s just given her past, it’s emphasised that even more. It’s why she goes for vampires, they don’t get tired.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Well, I’ll keep her satiated and I promise not to hurt her. Sorted.” He smiled, a little sarcastically, before pushing Hayley out of his room.

From then, he spent his time keeping Y/N on a tight leash. Leading her away from other men, especially vampires, tugging her into a dark or quiet space when she’d get annoyed, treating her to his fingers to keep her happy.

Her head would be in his neck, his hand holding the back of her head to keep her close so she couldn’t be too loud whilst he curled two fingers inside her. He too now knew exactly where to touch. The room was busy, another party Marcel had insisted on throwing. Klaus hadn’t wanted Y/N to go, and definitely not in such a little dress but having her against the wall made both their stress release.

“There you are sweetheart, better now, yes?” He murmured, kissing her shoulder slowly whilst he felt her clamp down and come.

“Mmm…uhuh.” She breathed, resting against him whilst he fixed her dress and licked his fingers clean.

“You feel good? Need another?” He questioned but her head shook, it was already her third orgasm of the evening. “Good girl.” He whispered and led her back to dance.

He’d stress when he was out all day, his mind already picturing her with another.

But with time, she didn’t even consider finding someone else. Instead, she would turn to messaging him.

Come back!

She’d send and he’d frown.

What’s happened? Are you hurt?

No. I need you again.

And Klaus would smile, turning his screen so only he could see.

Love. I just finished eating your sweet pussy. You can’t need any more.

In response, he’d be sent an angle of her cunt that made his breathing stop.

Klaus began to bring her along, often having her wait in the car and then giving her five minutes of his time in the back seats before they went anywhere else.

“Harder!” She’d whine, her back arching as deep as she physically could to try feel him deeper.

“Sweetheart, the car is shaking.” He growled, but drove his hips forward with more force regardless.

“Again!”

Until eventually, he could strap her seatbelt back round her and drive them back home.

After waking him up every morning, begging for anything, he’d decided he trusted her to do what she pleased. “Wake me up with your pussy on me, mouth, hands or whatever else. I don’t care, love.” He murmured, already full of sleep after a long night of splitting her in half.

“Promise?” She yawned and he nodded, snuggling her closer.

“Promise.”

And so, he would wake to the feel of his cock throbbing. His body often trembling whilst she continued to ride him. Often he’d only be able to see the back of her head, her hair bouncing with her body as she flexed her hips further back. He’d moan weakly in an attempt to tell her he was awake, but he’d unknowingly been making those same sounds for the last however long. Eventually, he’d grab her ass of hips, alerting her of his consciousness.

“Oh.” She’d turn to look to him over her shoulder but her rhythm never slowed. “Good morning.” She’d smile, her teeth on display. Klaus would smile back, his much more lazy than hers before his brows furrowed and he panted.

“Love, love-“ he’d groan when he came, his thighs tense and loins almost sore.

Y/N would climb off and sit back beside him, caressing his hair quietly. “Are you tired?” She asked, glancing at his semi hard cock.

“No…” he breathed, though his head still rest against the pillows.

“I’m being too much.” She whispered, swallowing thickly and looking out the window. Klaus frowned, glancing up at her. He knew she was panicking; thinking about leaving.

“No love, not at all.” He smiled, moving to sit up and pulling her close. Klaus stroked her skin, his thumb brushing over her nipple teasingly. “Just woke up is all.” He nuzzled her hair and she curled close. “Im a hybrid.” He reminded, his lips upturned when she pressed her face into his chest. Her affection was new but of increasing consistency. “I don’t get tired.”

“Never?”

“Not ever.” He chuckled.

“Promise?” She whispered, and when her eyes locked on his, Klaus knew she wasn’t just asking about him being tired.

“I promise.” He confirmed, pressing his forehead to hers as many wolves often did. “I love you.”

"Auntie Bex!" Noah chirped, his eyes instantly locking onto the massive box. "Is that a spaceship?"

"Better," she whispered loudly, casting a pointed, competitive glare at her brothers who were lounging nearby. "It's a vintage, hand-painted toy train set imported straight from Paris. But don't tell your uncles—they think their gifts are superior."

"Oh, please, sister," Kol scoffed, leaning casually against a pillar with a smirk playing on his lips. Davina was right beside him, holding his hand but already looking exasperated. Kol held a beautifully wrapped, suspiciously heavy box. "The boy is a Mikaelson. He doesn't want trains. He wants adventure. He wants to stir up trouble! Happy birthday, mate!"

Kol dropped to one knee, handing Noah the heavy box. You walked out from the kitchen just in time to see Noah enthusiastically tear through the paper, revealing a beautifully carved, miniature wooden sword and a matching shield. The wood shimmired with a soft, purple-ish glow.

"Kol," you said, your voice dripping with warning as you crossed your arms. "Tell me that isn't what I think it is."

"It’s a replica, Y/N! Totally blunt!" Kol defended defensively, though he winked at Noah. "And Davina put a very minor, completely harmless protection enchantment on it. If he hits a wall, the wall breaks, not his hand. See? Practical!"

"He is four, Kol! He cracked the living room drywall last week with a plastic spoon!" you groaned, rubbing your temples.

Klaus descended the grand staircase, a proud, soft smile resting on his lips—a look he reserved almost exclusively for you and his son. "While I admire the boy's warrior spirit, brother, his mother is right. No enchanted weaponry until he’s at least five. Hand it over."

"You're a killjoy, Nik," Kol grumbled, though he handed the toy to Davina for safekeeping.

Elijah stepped forward next, the absolute epitome of elegance in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. He knelt down with impeccable posture, handing Noah a small, heavy velvet box. "A true gentleman always knows the value of time, young man. Happy birthday."

Noah opened it to find a beautifully restored, antique pocket watch, intricately engraved with his initials and a tiny crest.

"Wow," Noah whispered, completely fascinated by the ticking gears. He looked up and offered Elijah a grand, incredibly formal hug. "Thank you, Uncle Elijah."

Elijah’s stoic, dignified expression instantly melted into pure, unadulterated fondness, his hand resting gently on Noah's curls. "You are very welcome, Noah."

Freya and Keelin followed, presenting him with a magical night-light Freya had crafted. "It projects moving constellations onto the ceiling," Freya explained, smiling warmly at you. "And it carries a soothing spell to keep away any... bad dreams."

"Or monsters in the closet," Keelin added with a laugh.

"Considering who his uncles are, monsters in the closet should be terrified of him," you joked, teasingly nudging Klaus's side. Klaus simply laughed, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist and pulling you against him, planting a soft kiss on your temple.

"Alright, everyone," you laughed, clapping your hands to gather the chaotic family. "It’s time for cake!"

The grand table in the center of the courtyard held a massive, three-tiered chocolate cake. You crouched down to Noah’s height, adjusting his party hat, while Klaus stepped up right beside him, placing a large, protective hand on Noah’s small shoulder. The family gathered around, their voices blending into a loud, surprisingly harmonious rendition of "Happy Birthday."

As the song ended, the single candle flickered brightly.

"Alright, my love," you whispered softly against Noah's cheek. "Make a wish and blow out the candle."

Noah nodded very seriously. He joined his little hands together, squeezed his eyes shut in deep concentration for a long three seconds, and then leaned forward to blow out the candle. The courtyard erupted into cheers and applause.

"So, what did you wish for, buddy?" Kol asked, leaning over the table with a grin. "A real dragon? A lifetime supply of sugar?"

Noah looked up, his eyes wide and completely innocent. "I wished for a baby sister!"

The entire courtyard went dead silent. It was a silence so sudden and absolute you could hear the distant traffic of Bourbon Street.

Elijah, who had just taken a graceful sip of his vintage champagne, choked violently. He hacked into a silk handkerchief, his eyes wide as he tried to regain his composure. Kol burst into a fit of sudden, delighted, roaring laughter, slapping his knee. Davina buried her face in her hands, giggling, while Freya and Keelin exchanged highly amused glances.

You froze entirely. Your eyes widened in sheer, unmitigated shock. Slowly, almost mechanically, you turned your head to look at your husband.

Klaus, on the other hand, went from stunned surprise to an incredibly smug, wildly delighted, arrogant smirk in a fraction of a second. His chest practically puffed out with pride.

Before you could say a single word, Klaus scooped Noah up into his arms, tossing him into the air slightly before catching him and pressing a deep kiss to his forehead. "A baby sister? Well, my brilliant boy, I promise you that you will get one very soon."

You whipped your head toward Klaus, drilling a terrifying, silent, freezing death stare straight into his soul. If looks could dagger an Original hybrid, Klaus would have been reduced to ash right then and there.

"Klaus," you said, your voice dangerously low, a sweet yet menacing smile plastered on your face. "We are going to have a very long, very detailed conversation about making promises you can't keep."

"Oh, I intend to keep it, love," Klaus purred, completely unfazed by your terrifying aura, his eyes dancing with wicked amusement.

Sensing the impending marital warfare and the very real possibility of the courtyard being destroyed, Rebekah quickly stepped in, loudly clapping her hands and suppressing her laughter. "Right! Wonderful wish! Let's cut the cake before your mother commits a historic murder on your birthday, Noah. Elijah, stop choking, you're an Original, act like it."

Hours later, the storm had finally passed. It had taken an ungodly amount of patience, but you had finally tucked a completely exhausted, sugar-crashing Noah into bed. He was fast asleep, clutching his new toy train in one hand and his wooden sword in the other.

The rest of the Mikaelsons had retreated to their respective wings of the mansion, leaving the Compound blissfully quiet.

You walked into your bedroom, letting out a long, dramatic sigh of relief. You kicked off your heels with a groan and began unzipping the back of your dress, eager to change into an oversized t-shirt and just melt into the mattress.

Suddenly, a pair of strong, familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Klaus pulled your back flush against his chest, his body heat immediately enveloping you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips pressing soft, lingering, warm kisses along your collarbone that made an involuntary shiver run down your spine.

"A baby sister, love," Klaus murmured against your skin, his voice a low, raspy, seductive purr that usually turned your brain to mush. "The boy knows exactly what this family needs. He's a visionary. We shouldn't keep him waiting. In fact, I think we should start working on his wish right now."

You smirked, a brilliant idea forming in your head. You turned around in his embrace, placing your hands flat against his chest, pushing him back just an inch. You schooled your expression into your best, most serious, devastated poker face.

You let out a heavy, weary sigh. "Absolutely not, Klaus."

Klaus paused. His confident smirk faltered, his eyebrows furrowing in genuine confusion. "What? Why ever not?"

"Klaus, Noah is four. Do you know what that means?" You stepped back out of his arms, pacing around the room and throwing your hands up dramatically. "He is finally sleeping through the night consistently. I have finally regained a semblance of my sanity. Do you actually remember the newborn phase?"

"Of course I do—"

"No, you don't!" you interrupted, point-blank ragebaiting him. "You’re a vampire, you don’t get tired the way I do! The endless crying? The absolute mountain of diapers? The spit-up on every single piece of clothing I own? Klaus, I love our son, but another hybrid baby right now? I don't think my mental stability can survive it. Let's just face facts—Noah is going to be an only child. We are done. The shop is closed."

Klaus stared at you, genuine, utter panic flashing in his brilliant blue-green eyes. The fearsome, ruthless Great Evil of New Orleans, the hybrid king who struck terror into the hearts of witches and vampires worldwide, looked completely defeated and desperate.

"But... but sweetheart," Klaus stammered, stepping forward, his hands reaching out tentatively. "A sister for Noah. A little girl. Think of how perfect she would be. A little princess. I can handle the night shifts! I don't sleep anyway! I'll do every single diaper change, I swear it to you on my life. I'll compel a army of nannies if I have to! You won't have to lift a finger, love, please—"

Seeing him genuinely rambling, completely panicked, and thoroughly stressed out by your speech, you couldn't hold it in for another second. A massive, triumphant grin broke across your face, and you burst into a fit of laughter.

Klaus stopped dead in his tracks, blinking blankly at you. "You're... you're laughing."

"You should see your face," you gasped, wiping a tear of laughter from your eye. "The great Klaus Mikaelson, brought to his knees by the prospect of diaper duty."

Klaus’s eyes narrowed as he realized he had been thoroughly played. A slow, dangerous, incredibly attractive smile spread across his lips. "You were torturing me on purpose."

"Maybe a little," you teased, stepping back into his space and boldly wrapping your arms around his neck, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "But... I suppose a promise is a promise. And a Mikaelson always pays his debts, right? We can't break a promise to our son."

Klaus’s panic instantly vanished, replaced by a wicked, burning, triumphant grin. He gripped your waist, pulling you tightly against him. "You are utterly wicked, love. A true menace."

"I learned from the best," you whispered against his lips.

Klaus didn't waste another syllable, lifting you easily as his lips crashed onto yours, definitively starting the very thorough, very enthusiastic process of granting Noah's birthday wish.

-end

But hearing about a nightmare in the safety of a candlelit bedroom is entirely different from watching it wake up right in front of you.

The ruined warehouse on the outskirts of New Orleans was dead silent, save for the ragged, hyperventilating sound of your own breathing. Just moments ago, the air had been thick with Lucien’s mocking laughter. He had you pinned against a rusted concrete pillar, his fingers digging deep, ugly bruises into the sensitive skin of your throat. He had used you as the ultimate leverage, taunting Klaus, basking in the sheer thrill of holding the Great Evil’s Achilles' heel in his grasp. You had been paralyzed with a primal, suffocating terror, utterly certain that your life was about to end in a spray of dust and bone.

Then, Klaus had broken through the heavy iron doors.

What followed wasn’t a neat, cinematic, heroic rescue. It was an execution. It was a visceral, chaotic display of apex predation that blurred the lines between speed and sound. You hadn't even been able to track the movements—only the horrific, wet sounds of tearing flesh, the splintering of wood as bodies crashed through walls, and the terrifying, demonic roar that ripped from Klaus’ throat. It wasn't a fight. It was a butcher dissecting his prey with meticulous, agonizing wrath.

Now, Klaus stood a few feet away from you, his back turned.

The posture that was usually so elegant, so effortlessly regal and poised, was rigid and trembling with residual adrenaline. His chest heaved, his shoulders rising and falling in heavy, ragged cycles. At his feet lay what was left of Lucien—a broken, mangled mass of clothes and shattered bone that barely looked human anymore. The floor was slick with a dark, widening pool of crimson.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from Klaus’ hands. They were stained completely red, all the way up to his wrists. Thick, slow droplets of blood fell from his fingertips, striking the concrete floor with a rhythmic, sickening tap... tap... tap.

"Y/N," he said softly.

The monstrous, vibrating rumble that had shaken the very foundations of the room a second ago was entirely gone. It was replaced by a tone so devastatingly gentle, so laced with panicked reverence, that it felt completely out of place in the carnage.

He slowly turned around to face you. Instinct took over before your mind could stop it. You flinched, your heels scraping against the floor as you tried to press yourself even deeper into the solid concrete pillar behind you. Your chest heaved, a tiny, involuntary whimper escaping your lips.

The movement was slight, but to a hybrid with supernatural senses, it was a gunshot.

Klaus froze instantly. The dark, web-like veins pulsing beneath his eyes—the physical manifestation of his vampire hunger and unbridled wrath—slowly began to recede. His irises shifted from a terrifying, predatory gold back to his piercing, vulnerable blue. He looked down at you, and for a fraction of a second, a flash of absolute, agonizing heartbreak crossed his features. The monster vanished, leaving behind a man who looked utterly naked in his shame.

"Love," he whispered, taking a tentative, excruciatingly slow step forward. He raised his bloody hands slightly, a instinctive gesture to comfort you that he aborted halfway through, realizing what he looked like. "You're safe. He can't touch you again. I promise you, he will never touch you again."

"I... I know," you choked out. You wanted to sound brave. You wanted to be the fierce, unwavering partner he needed, but your voice betrayed you, trembling violently. Your eyes darted uncontrollably from the blood dripping from his knuckles back up to his face.

Klaus noticed your gaze. He looked down at his own hands, a bitter, self-deprecating smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before it quickly withered into a look of profound defeat. He didn't try to wipe the blood on his trousers. He didn't try to hide what he had done. He simply stood there, letting you see him in the raw, horrific truth of his existence.

"This is what I am," he said, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly confession that vibrated with a thousand years of isolation. "You told me you weren't afraid of my past, Y/N. But this is my present. This is the ugliness required to keep the world from tearing us apart. When someone threatens what is mine, I do not negotiate. I do not show mercy. I destroy."

He took another step, stopping just on the perimeter of your personal space. He didn't reach out to grab you, nor did he use his supernatural speed to close the gap. He stood perfectly still, giving you the power, giving you the choice to push him away or run from him. The terrifying predator was completely gone, replaced entirely by the man who loved you, desperately waiting for your judgment, terrified that he had just broken the one good thing in his life.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked. The vulnerability in his voice was almost jarring compared to the violence he had just unleashed. His blue eyes searched yours, pleading, bracing himself for the rejection he believed he rightfully deserved.

You looked past his shoulder at the carnage across the room. Your heart was still hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird, and the primal, human part of your brain was screaming at you to run out of the warehouse and never look back.

But then you looked back at Klaus. You looked at the slight tremor in his jaw, the profound sadness in his eyes, and the way he seemed to shrink beneath your gaze. You didn't see a monster enjoying a slaughter. You saw a man who had gone to the darkest, most horrific depths of his soul purely to pull you back into the light.

Your hands were shaking as you finally stepped away from the pillar, closing the final few inches of distance between you. You didn't touch his hands—not because you were disgusted, but because you wanted him to know you were looking at him, not the blood.

Slowly, carefully, you reached up and rested your palms against his unblemished, stubbled jawline.

"I'm shocked," you whispered honestly, your voice steadying as the warmth of his skin grounded you. "And I am terrified of what just happened. But Nik... I am not afraid of you."

A long, shuddering breath escaped Klaus' lungs, a sound that bordered on a sob. He closed his eyes, leaning heavily, desperately into the touch of your hands, as if your acceptance was the only anchor keeping him from drifting entirely into the dark.

-end

Klaus had met Y/N in a bar. She was sweet and shy and completely untouched by darkness despite being a werewolf. Klaus had taken her back to a hotel room and deflowered her among the sheets. He’d taken pleasure and pride in being her first, even if he had no intentions of seeing her again.

The memory of her had briefly flashed through his mind when he found out Hayley was pregnant. He had slept with Y/N rather soon after Hayley, was it possible he had impregnated another wolf? Klaus pondered it but the idea was swept away with all the other drama he had tangled himself in.

So it was quite the surprise when he stood in the witches cemetery again, arms folded as he waited for Genevieve to make her big reveal, and Y/N was pushed out in front of him. Eyes wet and scared as she kept begging for something through the gag.

Klaus frowned and looked to the witch, his expression slipping into something more dangerous when another witch emerged holding a baby. One that drew an immediate cry of desperation from Y/N.

Nobody had time to threaten or do anything before both witches lay dead on the floor with snapped necks and Klaus held the baby. He couldn’t help but stare for a second, immediately finding the similarities between the little girl and himself. His head turned when Y/N whimpered again and he quickly came over, pulling the cloth out of her mouth and breaking the restraints from when wrists and ankles.

The infant was stolen from his arms, cradled lovingly as she cried quietly.

Klaus swallowed thickly, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder gently. “Y/N?” He whispered, checking it was definitely her.

Her eyes opened, looking back at him as she held her daughter a little tighter. “I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with us.” She sniffed. “Especially not enough to come take us in the night.” Her eyes still welled with tears and Klaus quickly shook his head.

“I didn’t order anybody to do this, love. I had no idea you’d had my child.” He quickly assured, feeling his own heart race as she looked at him with fear. “I didn’t know, love, I promise.” He cupped her face, attempting to convey how much he meant it through his eyes.

Y/N sniffed and searched his expression before nodding, believing him.

He glanced her down slowly, feeling worse when he realised the witches had literally plucked them from sleep. She as in pajamas, the little girl too.

Klaus brought her home immediately, his hand not leaving her as they went straight up to his room.

“What’s her name?” He had asked quietly on the way back in the car.

“Willow.” She answered, watching his eyes dart to his daughter’s sleeping face

“She’s beautiful”

Rebekah thought so too. The blonde couldn’t stop taking pictures of her and telling Y/N how devastated she was that they hadn’t known earlier.

“We have to get back home soon.” Y/N told them all one night at dinner and Klaus had immediately frowned.

“This is your home now.” His confusion was almost comical.

“I used all my savings on our house.” She told him, sadness filling her at the idea of not returning. “All Willow’s things are at home.”

So they went to visit this house of theirs

Klaus was in awe of the domesticated scene. Of the baby toys and items scattering the rooms. Things messy yet organised all at once.

He sat silently as Y/N read a story book to Willow, her tone changing for the different characters. His mouth twitched into a smile at her growing facial expressions.

“I don’t have a spare room.” She told him, her face blushing pink as she scratched the back of her neck. “I can get some spare blankets for you?” She offered and Klaus blinked at her.

With reluctance but without complaint, he slept on her couch with the spare blanket and one of her pillows. The scent of lavender filled his nose as he rest against it, his eyes fluttering closed easily.

The other Mikaelsons stayed at home, they were confident that Klaus would convince Y/N to come back to New Orleans.

However, he wasn’t so sure that was what was best. Not when he woke up in the night, thinking he’d heard Willow’s cries, climbed up the stairs and found Y/N nursing their baby to her naked chest.

Her eyes had gone wide and her face red when she realised he was there and one of Willows square blankets was hastily held over her bare skin.

“Oh god-“ she whimpered and Klaus smiled, amused by the innocent exclamation.

“It’s alright love, I’ve seen it all before.” He teased before coming to crouch down beside the rocking chair, gently moving the blanket to watch his child feed. “Besides, I’m not here to make you feel uncomfortable. I want to be here for you, both of you.” He murmured, his fingers gently stroking his daughter’s head, feeling the soft little hairs that had grown just barely.

“Okay…” Y/N shifted, adjusting Willow’s position making the baby fuss for a moment before latching back on. Klaus glanced up, seeing slight discomfort in the way Y/N’s brows pinched together.

“What’s wrong?” He asked immediately, his hand coming to the top of her back gently.

“Nothing, she’s just not getting much…” she mumbled, carefully moving Willow over to her other breast. Klaus watched her hand cup her own breast in a ‘C’ shape, encouraging the milk into Willow’s mouth.

When he noticed Y/N’s eyes starting to flutter, he gently replaced her hand, holding her breast with no vulgar intentions as she whispered to him how to do it better.

“Like that?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, that’s good. See? She’s content.” Y/N smiled, both of them now watching Willow’s happy face.

Klaus helped put her back down to sleep, having Y/N guide him. His eyes lingered on their child as she slept peacefully. A slither of guilt wrapped around him, because he should have tried to find her when he found out he could have children. He had known deep down. Y/N had the same guilt for not finding him too.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” She whispered and he looked to her, a warm smile gracing his face as he leaned to gently kiss the corner of her mouth, careful not to look back down at her bare chest that she now clumsily tried to cover again with the little blanket. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Y/N smiled, heading back to her bedroom and letting Klaus admire their little girl for a moment longer before heading back down to the living room.

In the morning, Willow was sat in her bouncer babbling and squealing at him as he held different toys out in front of her.

He glanced over his shoulder seeing Y/N leant over the kitchen counter, caressing her temples gently whilst the kettle boiled and the toaster dinged. Again, a swirl of guilt hit him and Klaus got up, heading over to help her.

“Jam?” He questioned, undoing the jar of strawberry when she nodded and spreading it over her toast. He set it down in front of her, followed by decaf coffee, she told him Willow couldn’t have caffeine in her milk. Then he returned to Willow, keeping her entertained until Y/N was ready to feed her again.

“Can I?” He asked, wanting to help again. Y/N only smiled and helped him hold her right to ensure Willow was drinking.

“So, how old is Hope?” She asked.

“Almost eight months.” He smiled and Y/N tilted her head.

“Willow’s only six. I wonder if they’ll be in the same class at school.” Y/N mused and Klaus hummed, looking up at her quietly.

Things had fallen much easier into place with Y/N. No Dahlia, no Esther or Mikael.

Just Y/N and Willow.

Within a week, Klaus knew he wasn’t going to be bringing them back to New Orleans. No, very much the opposite. Instead, he brought everyone else to her.

Everyone was moving into their own houses throughout the neighbourhood and visiting frequently.

Hayley came over often, wanting to learn techniques and advice from Y/N because even though Willow was younger, Y/N had spent more time with Willow than Hayley had been able to spend with Hope. Y/N had more experience than Hayley.

At times, her eyes would prick with tears, like when Willow sat up for the first time with no support and everyone had happened to be around for dinner. They had all clapped and cheered, Y/N was overjoyed and Klaus had kissed her without thinking.

Not that anybody mentioned that. Y/N had gone bright red and turned back to Willow to celebrate her.

Or when Y/N would ask to have some privacy so she could breast feed, something Hayley couldn’t do after Hope got used to being bottle fed whilst away with Rebekah.

It was a completely different story for Y/N and Klaus. Things were just easier.

Y/N put her foot down, she didn’t want to live in a big house with everybody. She didn’t want to hear about witches and vampires.

Klaus would assure her that everything would be fine on the full moon, when she would go out into the woods and he would stay home alone with Willow and sometimes Hope too. Turns out looking after two infants was quite the handful.

Y/N would come home to find him fast asleep still sat up on the couch, both babies asleep in their cribs.

Klaus finally felt like a father.