Kill those beasts and risk you losing your life. Or let them go and save your life.

The sound of your faint heartbeat boomed in his ears as he made his decision.

He decided to save your life.

He picked up your near lifeless bloodied body off of the ground "it's alright love, I've got you"

He bit his wrist, feeding you his blood just before your heart went silent with finality. He could only hope you took to his blood.

He rushed home with you in his arms, not letting anyone stop him until he reached his own bedroom. He placed you gently on his bed, before closing and locking the door.

He wouldn't let anyone else see you in such a state. He grabbed a towel and bowl of water setting it at his bedside table before carefully sitting next to your motionless body.

He wiped the blood from your face, fire burning under his skin at the thought of someone being capable of such monstrous things.

"I promise I will avenge you" he whispered.

He didn't know why he cared so much, he didn't know that he could still care so much. But he did.

After cleaning you of any blood, and tenderly wrapping your wounds, angry he couldn't do more for your bruises he left the room to go search for you a dress.

That's when you had awaken. The first thing you noticed was that you could see one hundred times better than before. Every speck of dust floating in the candle lit bedroom. The next was how loud it was.

You heard unfamiliar voices echoing in your ears, though you were sure no one was nearby.

Then it hit you. The memory. The feeling. You could feel the gravel under your skin and your knees scraping the concrete. The sound of them. Laughing.

And it was right then you noticed the room you were in. It was unfamiliar to you bet extremely… luxurious. You knew for a fact it couldn't have belonged to any of the men who…

So who's was it?

Your feet planted on the ground and immediately your nose was hit with the smell of blood. Except it didn't nauseate you this time. It smelled good, it made your throat burn with hunger.

Your eyes landed on it. A glass half full of the red liquid that you craved. Before you could reach for it the door to the bedroom opened and in walked a man.

You stood with a gasp and moved away from him with an in natural speed hitting the wall knocking a framed picture down.

Your heart pounded in your ears with fear and confusion.

You looked at the man with wide eyes and a heaving chest, shrinking down into a ball in the corner praying that he'd have mercy on you.

Klaus' heart broke at the sight. He dropped the dress from his hands and reluctantly took a step towards you "it's alright little dove, I won't hurt you. I swear it." He held his hands up showing he meant no harm.

Your body shook, "Who are you? What's wrong with me?" your voice was fragile.

Klaus sunk to his knees, trying his best to make himself look non threatening. "I saved your life, i did what i had to do to save your life." He said. Stopping only a few feet from you. Your teary eyes widened. "You… saved me?" You asked

He nodded slowly "I did. And now that your okay, I'm going to go put those animals down for good."

Your body uncurled slightly "your going to… kill them?" You asked quietly as if the word was forbidden.

"That's mercy compared to what I'll do."

A fiery look took over your expression. "I want to help"

The smile that took over his face was more beautiful than anything you'd ever seen.

From then you and Nicklaus had become a package deal. Someone piss Klaus off they'd deal with you, someone piss you off you'd have better luck finding the edge of the world than escaping Klaus' wrath.

Klaus loved you, and your gentle nature, but don't mistake it for weakness, you were almost as insane as Klaus. Almost.

You'd fight all the time. That was inevitable dealing with two short tempered vampires, but that never changed anything. The both of you were just as full of passion as the first day you met.

"Mm Klaus" you whispered as he moved inside of you. Klaus stared down at you in all of your beauty, to him you looked like an angel. His hips moved rhythmically, sliding in and out of you.

"So, so beautiful. My beautiful dove." The sound of his voice filled your ears like the most beautiful melody.

"Love having you so close, you complete me" your ran your hands through his hair, bringing him closer. He ' fight you, placing his face in your neck, gently biting down making you moan.

"I'll make you my wife, waited so long. Too long." The way he said it made you spasm around him making him groan. "You drive me crazy love" he was close, you could tell from the way his breath sped up.

"C'mon love, let go for me. Let me feel you." He pleaded huskily.

You were never one to fight him, feeling in your stomach released completely giving into him, with no shame. No fear. Klaus was your life and you were his.

The kind of love you had was written about in poems, in books. Which was probably why it ended so tragically.

"Rebekah please- please don't do this" you pleaded face soaked with tears. She had you chained up with vervain coated chains. But that wasn't even what hurt the most.

She stepped towards you, a regretful look in her blue eyes. "I am truly sorry sister, i love you i do." Her eyes filled with tears. "I wont hurt you"

You tugged at the chains "I wont forgive you for this. Never. I swear it." The venom in your voice Rebekah had heard many times before. But this was the first it was ever towards her.

She nodded in understanding "I know" her voice broke "but if i cant be happy, neither can he"

You pleaded with her over and over and over. But it changed nothing. It only delayed the inevitable. She began the compulsion and your pupils Dilated.

"You will run far from here. You will- you will forget my brother and continue to live your life as you have"

Klaus after Klaus hadn't seen you for over nine hours, he began turning the country upside down. He searched the entire world for you, chasing any lead that even remotely could've been you. He sent people who wanted to clear their debt with him on wold hunts in search of you.

Even after a while Kol, Elijah, and Rebekah had joined him in search of you. Rebekah hadn't told anyone of what she had done. The regret settled deep in her stomach watching her brother tear apart the world.

In certain moments she felt as evil as their father had been. Taking away the one person Klaus had found forever solitude in.

She saw in his eyes for decades how he longed to feel your touch again, she herself had kept an ear out in hopes she could find you before Klaus did, so he'd never find out what shed done. That she'd taken something so precious from him. Because if he found you first she knew he would.

He'd turn the world on as axis to find, kill, and ensure she was dead.

A pillow came down heavy on your head, successfully waking you from your slumber "up and at em, school dance to crash."

Your eyes opened landing on the raven haired vampire you were two seconds away from snapping his neck "Damon wake me up like that again you'll wind up with a missing heart" you threatened.

He smiled in his usual Damon way "no i won't"

He's right, he wouldn't. You sat up groaning, as Damon tossed an outfit to you. It was pink and black with white stripes and white knee high boots. "Ugh the seventies? Caroline couldn't have done fifties or something?" Your face curled in disgust.

Damon rolled his eyes "oh come on- you were great in the seventies. Awesome sene of style" he complimented. You snorted "yeah as apposed to you and that stupid mullet you loved oh so much"

He grabbed his heart feigning hurt "oh, low blow"

You'd run into Damon in Las Vegas over a hundred years ago, he found you after you'd lost all of your memories. He of course knew who you were, he was just unsure of why you didn't know who you were or the name you'd built for yourself.

He never told you about it and kept anyone who tried to away. He didn't know why. Maybe he was afraid his best friend would abandon him to go find her love.

You'd been with him since then. People often asked of you were a couple, and aside from a drunken hook up over five decades ago. And a talk after confirming you'd never do that again, you and Damon were nothing more than extremely close friends. You'd trust him with your life and vice versa.

The party was in full swing by time you'd arrived. The only reason you were coming was because Damon had asked you to stay by Elena's side which was the reason you were there, side from your love for Bonnie you'd die to keep her from dying.

So when you inevitably lost sight of both Bonnie and Elena, you wasted no time going to look for them. You ran through the endless halls of the school, only stopping when Alaric came crashing through the door, onto the floor right in front of you. Then on the other side of the door Bonnie Elena and Damon stood, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Y/n! Get away from him! It's Klaus!" Elena shouted taking a step towards you, only to be stopped by Damon.

At the sound of your name his head shot towards you and time felt like it stopped. It was you. You were there aright in front of him for the first time in one hundred and twenty years.

Klaus didn't know wether to be angry, or kiss you until you pass out. "Love?" was the only thing his brain could muster.

Your face fell, an expression he was very familiar with even after a hundred and fifty years apart. You were confused, there was no look of recognition on your face. No anger. No excitement. Nothing. Just pure confusion.

"What-" you said, before Damon pulled you away with Elena in tow. "Did you hear that?" You asked, following Damon. He shared a look with Elena that you caught "hear what?" He played dumb. You grabbed him turning him towards you "you heard it. And why did we just leave Bonnie?"

Damon started to get antsy "can we just get Elena out of here?"

You stood your ground, anger growing by the second. You'd always knew Damon was hiding something from you. He'd have this look in his eyes sometimes like he wanted to tell you something but couldn't form the words. "What aren't you telling me?" You demanded, looking from him to Elena and back to him.

"I'm not hiding anything! Now can we please get Elena out of here before he comes for her?"

You stared at him for a second. Then another. "What about Bonnie" you asked. Damon waved it off "Bonnie's fine she's got Stefan and Caroline". You scoff "oh that's comforting, Stefan's not even at his strongest he can't handle going against an original alone"

As if you talked them up Bonnie, who's nose was bloodied, Stefan who looked offended and Jeremy who held Bonnie up. Stefan patted your shoulder "good to know you have so much confidence in me"

You gave him an apologetic look.

"Let's get outta here" Jeremy said. Everyone agreed after Stefan explained Caroline had taken Matt home.

You were the last out of the school, something in you pleading to go back to the original.

Klaus was furious. Beyond any kind of anger that he'd ever felt. The love of his life was right in front of him and she looked at him like a stranger. Like offended her.

He returned to his own body as fast as he could. The plan with Elena could wait. He had to get his woman back. He wanted to believe that it was the crew you were with that made you forget him.

But that Damon would've been a fresh vampire and incapable of completely erasing Klaus from your mind.

Someone had taken you from him and him from you. Now who that was, Klaus would find out. But right now he needed to make you remember.

The next time Klaus had found you, you were alone. And angry, Damon had lied to you, something he did very rarely because he knew how much you hated it. You weren't sure exactly what it was he was lying about. Not positive at least. But you knew he knew why Klaus had called you 'love' that night.

You downed another glass of bourbon. One of the only things keeping you sane. Ignoring the chatter around you, fully aware of Matt's watchful eyes on you. Word had most likely gone around the group of friends to keep a watch on you, to keep you away from Klaus.

But in all honestly it just add you want to seek him out more, just to find out what they were hiding.

Klaus watched from afar, that familiar look of betrayal and display on your face. The one he hated to see on your beautiful features. He had to have you back. He had to make you remember. But it would take time.

Just for right now he needed to see you smile. That's when he approached you, it was rare that he was afraid, but that moment he couldn't help but hold his breath, until those words left his lips by force.

"Hello, Dove"

You felt him approaching. His energy radiated with danger and warning. The sound of his voice had made your breath catch in your throat and warm your heart. His accent was melodic and sounded like music to your ears.

He sat next to you, and that's when you finally looked at him. Klaus was beautiful.

Blonde curly hair, gentle blue eyes that made him look nothing of this monster people said he was. "Klaus?" You whispered.

He smiled and nodded, teeth and dimples on full display. "In the flesh, this time."

You swallowed, harshly. "Well maybe you'd like to tell me whats going on, seeing as my friends wont stop lying to me" You swirled your drink, glancing at Matt who's eyes weighed heavily on you.

Klaus looked at Matt as well, a smirk forming on his lips. "You mean about the other night?" He asked for clarification averting his eyes back to you.

You sighed, reluctantly nodding. Klaus saw the desperation on your face, the need to know what they were keeping from you. And even though his want to tell you had nothing to do with your group of imbeciles you called friends- it would give him a level of satisfaction.

"I knew you didn't i?" You asked with a frown.

Klaus smiled lightly "you did, you do."

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "Except i don't. I don't remember anything like I'm missing hundreds of years of memories"

Klaus felt that familiar feeling wash over him. The same one he'd felt countless times over the duration of your disappearance. The need he felt to punish whomever it was that came between the two of you.

"For decades i had Damon, helping me try to get my memories back. But now I'm not so sure he put as much of an effort in as he says he did. "I'm sure he tried his best" Klaus attempted to comfort, but it was useless. You weren't stupid that one thing you'd never been. Always able to read between the lines.

You smiled sadly, "You don't believe that." You paused before letting your body relax "i don't even believe it. Not anymore."

Klaus hated this. He hated that he couldn't wipe that frown off your face like he used to be able to. So he settled for what he could do.

"I searched for you for a hundred and twenty three years. It was only a year ago my trail went completely cold."

Your eyes softened, heart fluttering at his admission.

"I dreamed of the day is see your beauty again, i painted you. Over and over, just to make sure i never forgot a single detail. Your face is all over history. " His hand found yours, you didn't have it in you to pull away from him. "And even as i sit here now; nothing amounts to really seeing you"

Your face heated, no one had ever looked at you or described you the way Klaus was at that moment. You truly felt like an angel.

You gazed into his eyes "can i ask you something?"

"Anything" he replied without hesitation.

"Tell me about us. Our love"

Klaus was surprised at your request to say the least, but he wasted no time.

"Our love was true. It wasn't perfect, we fought like dogs at times, but other times it was like no one in the world had mattered except us." He squeezed your hand. "We never lied to the other, never kept secrets. We made mistakes and fixed them because it was so hard to go to bed angry with each other. You were so gentle, everything I wasn't but everything you made me. But you had a temper that rivaled my own." You laughed, the sound switching angelic in his ears.

"We were one" he said with finality

"We were beautiful" you said.

That night you dreamed of him. Though you knew it wasn't a dream. It was too real.

"I love you" you told Klaus, drawing feathery light circles on his bare chest where you lay your head. Klaus smiled his dimply smile "and i you, dove,"

You raised your head to look at him, "this feels to good to be true" You asked smiling. Klaus placed a gentle hand on your face "its not, were living proof" his tone was gentle, the way it always was when the sun began to rise over the horizon and greet you with its warmth.

You pressed a kiss to his lips, and in his normal Klaus fashion he deepened it. Grabbing your hips possessively. You giggled into the kiss, smacking his chest. "Just because were vampires doesn't mean we get to jump each others bones every second of the day"

Klaus laughs, head falling back against the cushiony pillow. "You are a rare jewel."

The next day your awake and out the door before Stefan and Damon. Your at the home Klaus Mikaelson bought and began fixing up to match his standards, sitting on his couch a glass of blood in hand after he found out you'd waken up and come straight to him without fueling up.

"So my memories aren't not gone. They're just buried." You recited the words that Klaus had previously said to you after you told him about your dream.

"Correct" he says.

"So maybe its just the memories the buried, not the feelings. And maybe after yesterday those feelings triggered a memory" you theorize, taking a sip of the void.

Klaus sat next to you, eyes full of promise "then i will make you fall in love with me again" he grabbed your other hand. Your breath left your lungs at his promise, you swallowed harshly "you wont have to try too hard. Because i already am."

Next thing you knew your lips were on his, the kiss was heavy, full of longing and need. Your soul felt like it was finally complete again. And just like that the floodgates opened. Every memory that had been locked away came flooding back.

Every kiss, every argument, every make up.

It was too much and the pain overwhelming , so much so that you only let out a whimper before you collapsed completely.

Klaus caught you, before you could fall from the couch. He rushed you to his room, just as he'd done all those hundreds of years before.

He waited, and waited. For hours he'd waited for you to finally be in his arms again. The you who remembers whet they of two of you had. The you who'd tell him who it was who took you from him.

He felt relieved when you finally peeled your eyes open. You immediately began to search for him. He grabbed your face "I'm here love".

Your eyes filled with tears, "Klaus, baby i remember. I remember everything" you mumbled before pressing your lips to his in a searing kiss. Klaus moved you on top of him and you didn't fight him. "I missed you. So fucking much" he said against your lips, grip tightening on your hips.

You sighed "I'm so sorry you had to endure that alone, my love", your hips began moving against his growing member. He flipped the two of you over, so he was on top of you "your here now, that's all i need"

The two of you didn't separate for hours. Not even close to enough time compared to how long you'd spent apart.

You were laid against his chest, naked body flush against his. "Nobody will ever take you from me again" he promised. And you believed him, because if you didn't do it before you'd sure as hell let the world feel your burn if someone tried.

You were kneeling on his rug, heat from the fireplace licking at your back while Klaus watched you like a problem he loved to solve. When your gaze finally lifted to meet his, a low chuckle crawled out of his throat and slid straight down your spine.

"Look at you," he murmured, the words low and dangerous. "All pretty on your knees, trying so hard to be good for me."

You swallowed; your pulse stumbled. He could hear it, and gave you a slow, satisfied smile. He reached down and traced the curve of your jaw. The touch was soft for a second. Then his hand tightened around your throat and he hauled you up.

He didn’t ask you to stand. He made you. He moved you to your feet and onto his lap, until your knees straddled his thighs and his hands could roam the bare skin of your back.

"It’s been a long week, hasn’t it?" His mouth dragged over your throat, teeth grazing, fangs merely a promise. "You’ve been aching for me and behaving… poorly." His fingers traced the curve of your spine, the other palm spreading across your lower back to keep you still. "You’ll do better tonight."

"I’ll be good," you whispered, and hated how needy it sounded.

"Oh, sweetheart." He smiled against your skin. "You better be."

His hands roamed, the fire lit up the edges of his irises, making the blue glow. His smile was all wolf. His hands found your breasts, cupping, thumbs teasing until your back arched and your nipples became too sensitive. You trembled, greedy for pressure, greedy for more. He felt it. He always did.

"Take it out," he said, soft as a spell.

You obeyed without thinking. Fingers found the button, the zipper, the velvet heat of him pushing free. He throbbed against your palm, thick and heavy, and your body clenched around nothing like you were already trying to make room.

"Now," Klaus breathed, stroking your jaw with his thumb as if you were glass. "Sit on it, love, and warm it until I'm ready to play with you."

You sank down. He guided the angle and the speed, easing into you inch by relentless inch until you were stretched around him, stuffed full, nails digging into his shoulders. A ragged sound tore out of you when your hips finally met his. He didn’t move.

"That’s it," he crooned, voice gone silk and smoke. "Nice and deep. Hold it."

His hands pinned your hips. The stillness was overwhelming. Every nerve begged to grind, to chase friction; every muscle went tight as a bowstring. Klaus’s eyes drank your struggle and warmed.

"Daddy-" you breathed. "I can’t."

"You can," he said, almost gentle. "You will." His lips brushed your ear. "You’ll sit pretty and warm my cock until I say. If you so much as twitch," he tightened his grip, "you’ll not get a single bit of mercy from me."

Your pulse galloped. He smiled, slow and cruel. "There she is."

He did not fuck you. He made you feel him. He made you feel the shape of him, the power he held in every fibre of his muscles. When you shifted for breath he only clicked his tongue and pressed you down harder, keeping you still and aching.

"That’s my girl," he murmured, like praise and like a threat. "Little thing can’t think straight with me inside her."

Your thighs shook. Heat gathered, low and helpless. You clenched around him and his eyes went bright with wolfish delight.

"You’re pulsing," he said, reverent and obscene. "Squeezing like you’re trying to milk me before you’ve even earned it."

Your cheeks burned. "Please. I'm sorry… I can't-"

"Please what, love?"

"Please let me move."

He hummed. "I adore your manners." His thumb brushed your lower lip. "Open."

You obeyed. He pressed two fingers into your mouth, watched you suck, watched drool slick his knuckles as your eyes went soft and glassy. He pulled them free, shined with spit, and dragged them down your throat, over your sternum, lower and lower until he found your clit. He didn’t rub. He hovered. Barely there. A whisper, a brush, a cruel torture he enjoyed inflicting way too much.

Your hips betrayed you, jerking for more. He caught your throat in his clean hand, squeezing enough to convey his control without words…and your body went molten, your face so warm you feared you might pass out.

"Easy," he said, amused. "Breathe for me."

You breathed. He listened. His head tilted, eyes gone inhumanly dark as he tracked each flutter of your pulse beneath his palm. "Such a pretty heartbeat when you submit to me."

Another ghosting pass of his slick thumb and your vision blinked out at the edges. He didn’t chase it. He took it away. You whimpered, obscene and wet and helpless on his lap, stuffed full and nowhere to go.

"You’re shaking," he noted, delighted. "All that sweet little discipline cracking already?"

"Daddy," you begged, humiliating, perfect. "Please."

"Ask properly."

"Please may I ride your cock."

He smiled like a man hearing his favorite song. "Good girl." He released your throat and curled both hands around your hips. "Do not come until I say."

You lifted your hips, barely an inch and dropped. The sound you made was a prayer ripped into a sob. He set the rhythm, a ruthless, patient grind, squeezing bruises into your flesh that you’d find tomorrow and smile at. Your slick made lewd noises where your bodies met; it only made him rougher, prouder.

"Look at me," he said, voice thrumming with lust. Your gaze snapped to his. "That’s it." His thumb found your clit for real now, with hard sure presses, driving you closer and closer. "Show me that pretty face when you break."

Your whole body strained toward the edge. You were right there…right-

"Not yet," he growled, and you wailed, shaking, nails biting into him as the crest rolled back cruelly. He laughed, breath hot at your ear. "Oh, I enjoy keeping you miserable."

"Please," you sobbed. "Please, please daddy-"

"Shh." He kissed the wet corner of your mouth, slow and warm as devotion. "You’re doing beautifully. My perfect little cockwarmer." The word should have burned. It made you clench. He felt it. "There she is."

He let the pressure build again, unhurried, merciless. Your thighs quivered; your calves cramped; your chest stuttered for air. He didn’t soften. He wanted you feral. He wanted you grateful.

"Come," he said at last, voice gone rough and bright with command. "Now."

You shattered. It was messy and perfect, loud, wet, shaking, just the way he liked it. Your body clamping down around him in greedy pulses as you moaned. He held you together through it, one big hand at your throat, the other grinding you down to take every wave. He didn’t give you a second to float; he followed, a groan torn from his chest as his hips finally snapped and he spilled deep, claiming you with possessive little thrusts that said mine mine mine.

You collapsed against him, trembling. He kept you plugged on his cock, kept you full, one palm stroking your back in lazy passes while the aftershocks crawled through your limbs.

"Good girl," he murmured into your hair, ruined and happy. "God, I do love how you break for me."

"Thank you, Daddy," you whispered, dizzy with it.

"Mmm." He nosed along your throat, then bit down…just a shallow mark and licked it better. "You’re staying right where you are." A lazy thrust made you keen. "I’m not finished."

You made a faint, panicked sound. He laughed softly, the bastard, and dragged his knuckles over your oversensitive clit in a teasing pass that made your hips flinch.

"Behave," he said, petting your hair, voice syrup-thick with love and menace. " You’ll warm me while I decide what else I’m owed."

"What if I fall asleep?" you managed, already half-drunk with afterglow.

He smiled, a slow, sharp-edged thing that promised so much, and leaned in to lick the salt off your lips.

"Then I'll wake you up," he said, and his smile grew. "Again, and again, and again."

And again.

The woman blinked up at him, her eyes struggling to focus. She was clearly intoxicated, swaying slightly even with his support. Her costume, some sort of golden-winged angel with a flowing white dress, was slightly disheveled, one wing bent at an awkward angle from their collision.

"Oh," she said, her voice carrying the distinctive slur of someone who'd had several drinks too many. "Sorry 'bout that. I didn't see you there."

She made no immediate move to extract herself from his grip, instead tilting her head to study his face with exaggerated concentration. A small furrow appeared between her brows as she squinted up at him.

"Are you supposed to be dressed as Klaus Mikaelson?" she asked suddenly, the question so unexpected that Klaus actually blinked in surprise.

"I beg your pardon?" he responded, genuinely caught off guard—a rare occurrence for the Original hybrid.

The young woman nodded sagely, as if confirming her own suspicion.

"The vampire from the quarter," she elaborated, gesturing vaguely around them. "The Original hybrid. You've got the look down, but..." She leaned in conspiratorially, nearly losing her balance again. "I don't know, you should work on your accent more. It's not quite right."

For a moment, Klaus simply stared at her, torn between amusement and irritation. Then, despite himself, his lips curved into a smile that held genuine humor—another rarity.

"Is that so?" he asked, deliberately emphasizing his accent. "And what, pray tell, is wrong with my accent?"

The woman waved her hand dismissively, oblivious to the fact that she was criticizing the very person she thought he was impersonating.

"It's too... I dunno, forced? Like you're trying too hard." She patted his chest sympathetically. "But the rest is pretty good! The necklaces are a nice touch. Very authentic."

Klaus found himself unexpectedly charmed by her brazen critique and complete lack of self-preservation instincts. Most humans in the Quarter had at least heard rumors about him—enough to give him a wide berth, especially after dark.

"Perhaps I should practice more," he suggested, playing along. "What's your name, angel?"

"Y/N," she replied, attempting a small curtsy that nearly sent her tumbling again. "And I'm not really an angel. It's just a costume."

"I gathered as much," Klaus replied dryly, steadying her once more. "Real angels are far less entertaining."

Y/N's eyes widened comically.

"You've met real angels?" she asked, clearly impressed by his commitment to the role. "Wow, you're really in character. That's dedication."

Before Klaus could respond, Y/N suddenly lurched to the side, her face paling alarmingly.

"Oh no," she mumbled, pressing a hand to her mouth. "I think I'm gonna be—"

With vampire speed that she was too intoxicated to register, Klaus guided her to a nearby alley, just in time for her to empty the contents of her stomach against the brick wall. He grimaced but didn't leave, instead pulling her hair back from her face with unexpected gentleness.

"There, there," he murmured, his tone caught between disgust and reluctant sympathy. "Better out than in, as they say."

When she'd finished, Y/N straightened up shakily, looking mortified despite her drunken state.

"Oh god," she groaned, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "I just threw up in front of Klaus Mikaelson. Or, you know, a really good cosplayer. Either way, super embarrassing."

Klaus couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, one of the most feared creatures in New Orleans, holding back a drunk woman's hair while she vomited in an alley—and she thought he was in costume.

"I think we can safely say I've seen worse in my thousand years," he assured her, producing a handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her.

Y/N accepted it gratefully, dabbing at her mouth.

"Thanks," she mumbled, then added with a weak laugh, "A thousand years, huh? You don't look a day over 900."

Despite himself, Klaus found his smile widening. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to him with such unguarded candor, without fear or ulterior motives.

"Where are your friends, Y/N?" he asked, glancing around the empty alley. "Surely you're not wandering the Quarter alone in this state?"

Y/N's face fell, and she leaned back against the wall, suddenly looking very young and vulnerable.

"They left," she admitted, her voice small. "We had a fight. Something stupid about... I don't even remember now. But they went to another bar and I stayed behind, and then I decided I'd show them I could have fun without them, so I had a few more drinks, and..." She gestured helplessly at herself. "Here I am. Angel with vomit on her dress. Super dignified."

Klaus felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy. He knew all too well what it was like to be abandoned, even if the circumstances were vastly different.

"Well, you can't stay here," he decided, taking in her disheveled appearance and unsteady stance. "Where are you staying? I'll escort you back."

Y/N looked up at him with wide, grateful eyes that made something in Klaus's chest tighten uncomfortably.

"The Hotel Monteleone," she said, then added with a hiccup, "But you don't have to. I'm sure fake Klaus Mikaelson has better things to do on Halloween than babysit a drunk girl."

Klaus offered his arm with a slight bow, his expression a mixture of amusement and something more difficult to define.

"As it happens, I find myself at loose ends this evening," he told her. "And it would be remiss of me to leave a lady in distress, especially one who's offered such helpful critique of my accent."

Y/N giggled, linking her arm through his with more force than necessary as she pushed away from the wall.

"My hero," she declared dramatically, then promptly stumbled again. "Oops. The ground is very...tilty tonight."

"Indeed it is," Klaus agreed solemnly, supporting more of her weight than she probably realized. "Perhaps we should find you some water before we continue. Sobriety is generally helpful when navigating tilty ground."

As they emerged from the alley back onto the crowded street, Klaus found himself strangely protective of the inebriated woman on his arm. It was an unusual feeling. He was far more accustomed to being the predator than the protector.

The walk back from the French Quarter was anything but direct. Y/N weaved unsteadily along the sidewalk, occasionally stopping to admire Halloween decorations or wave at passing revelers, all while maintaining a steady stream of conversation that jumped between topics with dizzying speed. It was an exercise in patience for Klaus, who found himself slowing his pace to accommodate her unsteady gait.

"You know," she announced as they turned onto a quieter residential street, her voice carrying in the night air, "I actually read about you. Or, well, the real Klaus. Not that you're not real! You're just...you know what I mean."

Klaus arched an eyebrow, genuinely curious despite himself.

"Is that so? And what exactly have you read about me—or rather, him?"

"Mmm, lots of things," Y/N nodded sagely, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk before Klaus steadied her. "He's supposed to be this super powerful hybrid. Half vampire, half werewolf. First of his kind."

She looked up at him with wide, earnest eyes.

"But the thing is, everyone talks about how dangerous he is. How scary. But I think..." she lowered her voice to a stage whisper that was likely audible half a block away, "I think he's probably just lonely. I mean, who wouldn't be after a thousand years? Everyone you love either dies or betrays you eventually."

Klaus's steps faltered slightly, caught off guard by her unexpected insight.

"That's...an interesting perspective," he managed, his tone carefully neutral. "Most people focus on the more violent aspects of his reputation."

"Well, yeah," Y/N waved her free hand dismissively, "but that's boring. Bad guy does bad things, news at eleven. I'm more interested in the why. No one just wakes up and decides to be the villain, you know? Something makes them that way."

She stumbled again, and Klaus tightened his grip on her arm to keep her upright.

"Careful, love," he murmured, the endearment slipping out automatically.

"See! That's good," Y/N exclaimed, brightening. "The 'love' thing. Very Klaus-like. You're getting better at this."

Klaus couldn't help the genuine laugh that escaped him.

"I'm pleased to have your approval," he said dryly. "I do strive for authenticity."

Before Klaus could respond to this observation, Y/N suddenly changed course, tugging him down a side street.

"This way," she announced. "I don't actually live at the Monteleone. That's just where my friends are staying. I have an apartment over on Dauphine. It's not far."

Klaus raised an eyebrow but allowed himself to be redirected.

"And you thought it wise to give a stranger, one dressed as a notorious vampire no less, your actual address?" he asked, genuinely curious about her reasoning.

Y/N waved dismissively, nearly hitting a streetlamp in the process.

"You're not a stranger anymore," she declared with drunk logic. "We've been talking for like...forever. Plus, you held my hair while I threw up. That's basically a friendship blood oath."

"A friendship blood oath," Klaus repeated, unable to keep the laughter from his voice. "I suppose by that standard, we're practically family."

"Exactly!" Y/N beamed up at him, her smile bright enough that it momentarily distracted from her smudged makeup and disheveled costume."Besides, I'm an excellent judge of character. You might be dressed as the scariest vampire in New Orleans, but you're actually nice."

Something flickered in Klaus's eyes at that. A brief unreadable expression that vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Am I now?" he asked softly. "You might be the first person in centuries to think so."

"It's this building," Y/N announced suddenly, gesturing to a three-story brick apartment building with a small stoop. "Second floor, apartment 2B. For 'Bee,' because I keep telling my roommate we should get a pet bee, but she says that's not a thing people do."

"A wise decision on her part," Klaus commented, helping her up the steps. "Bees generally prefer the company of other bees."

"You're smart," Y/N informed him solemnly as she fumbled in her small purse for her keys. "I like smart people. Everyone thinks I'm just a pretty face, you know? But I'm getting my master's in art history. Focusing on Renaissance portraiture. That's actually why I know about Klaus. There are rumors he was a patron of several Italian artists."

This revelation genuinely surprised Klaus. Most humans who knew of him focused solely on the supernatural aspects of his existence, not his contributions to art history.

"Is that right?" he asked, watching as she finally extracted her keys with a triumphant "Aha!"

"Mm-hmm," she confirmed, struggling to fit the key into the lock until Klaus gently took it from her hand and did it for her. "There are these paintings from the 1500s that some people think he commissioned. The brushwork is incredible. I'd love to see them someday."

Klaus turned the key, a strange warmth spreading through his chest at her words. Those paintings were currently hanging in the east wing of the Mikaelson compound, away from the prying eyes of visitors.

"Perhaps you will," he said softly, more to himself than to her.

The door swung open, and Y/N immediately kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief, wobbling slightly as she stepped into the apartment.

"Home sweet home," she declared, flicking on the lights to reveal a cozy, if somewhat cluttered, living space. Books were stacked on nearly every surface, and the walls were covered with art prints and photographs. "My roommate's out of town for the weekend. Visiting her boyfriend in Atlanta."

She turned back, confusion crossing her face when she realized Klaus was still standing in the doorway, one hand resting against an invisible barrier that prevented him from entering.

"What are you doing?" she asked, tilting her head in puzzlement. "Aren't you coming in?"

Klaus maintained his position, a small smile playing at his lips.

"I'm waiting to be invited," he explained, his tone deliberately light. "It's only proper."

Y/N stared at him for a moment before understanding dawned on her face, followed by a delighted giggle.

"Oh my god," she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "Wow, you're really committing to this vampire bit, aren't you? That's dedication to the costume."

She made an exaggerated sweeping gesture toward the interior of the apartment.

"Please, come in, Mr. Mikaelson," she invited with mock formality, adding a wobbly curtsy for good measure. "My humble abode is yours to enter."

Klaus stepped across the threshold with measured steps, his eyes briefly scanning the apartment for threats out of long-established habit.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he replied, matching her formal tone with a slight bow that made her giggle again.

"You're funny," she informed him, swaying slightly where she stood. "I didn't expect Klaus Mikaelson to be funny. In the stories, he's always so serious and murdery."

"Perhaps the stories don't tell the whole truth," Klaus suggested, closing the door behind him. ""Let me get you some water," Klaus said, spotting the kitchenette and moving toward it. "You'll thank me in the morning."

Y/N waved a hand dismissively but didn't protest, instead making her way to the couch where she collapsed with a dramatic sigh.

"My wings are killing me," she complained, reaching awkwardly behind her back to try and unfasten the now-bedraggled angel wings.

Klaus returned with a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table before moving to help her with the troublesome costume piece.

"Allow me," he offered, deftly unfastening the harness that held the wings in place.

"My hero," Y/N sighed, relief evident in her voice as the cumbersome accessory was removed. "Those things are way heavier than they look."

She accepted the water when Klaus handed it to her again, taking a few reluctant sips before setting it aside. When she looked up at him, her expression had shifted, a hint of something warmer in her gaze.

"You know," she said, patting the spot beside her on the couch, "you're really handsome. Has anyone ever told you that you look like the real thing?"

Klaus sat beside her, maintaining a respectful distance that Y/N immediately eliminated by scooting closer.

"The real thing?" he asked, though he knew perfectly well what she meant.

"Klaus Mikaelson," she clarified, reaching out to touch one of his necklaces."The actual vampire. Not that anyone knows what he really looks like, I guess. But the stories all say he's hot."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Klaus's mouth.

"Do they now?" he asked, genuinely amused by this revelation. "And what other insights do these stories provide about the fearsome Original hybrid?"

Y/N's fingers moved from his necklace to trace along his jawline, her inhibitions clearly lowered by the alcohol still coursing through her system.

"They say he's dangerous," she murmured, her voice dropping to what she probably intended to be a seductive whisper. "Powerful. That he's lived for a thousand years and seen everything. Done everything."

Her hand slid to his chest, her intentions becoming increasingly obvious.

"But I bet there are still some things that would surprise him," she added with a clumsy attempt at a wink.

Klaus caught her wrist gently, stilling her wandering hand.

"Y/N," he said softly, his accent wrapping around her name in a way that made her shiver despite his rebuff, "you're in no state for the kind of surprise you're suggesting."

She pouted, the expression making her look even younger than she was.

"I'm not that drunk," she protested, the slur in her words contradicting her claim. "And you're hot, and it's Halloween, and—" She yawned suddenly, the action seemingly taking her by surprise. "And I'm...actually really tired."

Klaus chuckled, releasing her wrist to brush a strand of hair from her face.

"I believe that's my cue to help you to bed," he said, standing and offering her his hand. "To sleep," he added firmly when her expression brightened.

Y/N sighed dramatically but accepted his help, swaying slightly as she got to her feet.

"You're no fun," she complained, even as she leaned heavily against him. "But fine. Bedroom's through there."

She pointed toward a door off the main living area, and Klaus guided her toward it with gentle efficiency. The bedroom was small but neat, with a double bed covered in an array of pillows and a colorful quilt.

"I should change," Y/N mumbled, looking down at her costume with a frown. "Can't sleep in this."

Before Klaus could suggest he wait outside, she reached behind herself for the zipper of her dress, struggling with it for several seconds before looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Help?" she asked, turning to present her back to him.

Klaus hesitated briefly before stepping forward to assist, carefully lowering the zipper only as far as necessary for her to manage the rest herself.

"There you are," he said, stepping back immediately. "I'll wait outside while you change."

Y/N turned back to face him, holding the front of her dress in place with one hand while the other reached for him.

"Or you could stay," she suggested, her attempt at a sultry look somewhat undermined by another massive yawn. "Help me out of this dress properly..."

Klaus took her hand and placed a gentlemanly kiss on her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Another time, perhaps," he said smoothly. "When you're less likely to fall asleep mid-seduction."

As if to prove his point, Y/N's eyelids drooped heavily, and she swayed on her feet.

"I'm not going to fall asleep," she protested, even as she sat heavily on the edge of the bed. "I'm just resting my eyes for a second."

Klaus smiled, shaking his head slightly as he backed toward the door.

"Of course," he agreed. "Just call when you're changed."

He closed the bedroom door behind him, listening with enhanced hearing as Y/N mumbled to herself while presumably attempting to change. There was a thud, likely her dropping something, followed by a soft curse, then the unmistakable sound of her collapsing onto the bed.

After a minute of silence, Klaus knocked gently on the door.

"Y/N?" he called softly. "Are you decent?"

When no response came, he eased the door open to find her sprawled across the bed, still partially in her costume but with a t-shirt haphazardly pulled over the top, fast asleep. Her mouth was slightly open, her breathing deep and even, her earlier seduction attempt clearly forgotten.

Klaus couldn't help but laugh softly at the sight. He moved quietly into the room, carefully removing her remaining shoes and pulling the quilt over her sleeping form. He placed a glass of water and some pain relievers he found in her bathroom on the nightstand that she would undoubtedly need them in the morning.

As he straightened, his gaze caught on a sketchbook lying open on her desk. Curiosity piqued, he moved closer, examining the drawing that was visible. It was a surprisingly skilled rendition of the French Quarter at sunset, the detail impressive even to his discerning eye.

"Talented little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, glancing back at her sleeping form.

Y/N stirred slightly but didn't wake, her breathing already deepening into the rhythm of sleep. Klaus watched her for a moment longer, an unfamiliar protective instinct stirring in his chest.

He should leave now. He'd done his good deed for the decade, escorting a drunk human safely home. There was no reason to linger.

Yet something compelled him to take a piece of paper from her desk and scribble a brief note, which he left propped against the water glass he placed on her nightstand, alongside two more aspirin.

With one last look at her peaceful face, Klaus slipped silently from the room and out of the apartment, closing the door securely behind him. The night was still young, and he had his own affairs to attend to.

But as he walked away, he found himself smiling at the thought of Y/N waking tomorrow, reading his note, and realizing that perhaps her "fake Klaus Mikaelson" hadn't been so fake after all.

The note read simply:

Y/N, 

Your critique of my accent has been duly noted. Perhaps next time we meet, I'll have improved it to your satisfaction. Until then, drink water, take the aspirin, and do try to be more careful about who you stumble into on Halloween night. Not everyone in the Quarter is as gentlemanly as I.

—Klaus Mikaelson (the genuine article)

🏷️: @ariesandwolves @idontknowwhatimdoinginiife

Henrik had been killed and Esther and Mikael in turn made the rest of their children undead forever.

However it was only when Klaus's true identity came to light that Y/N was punished too. In addition to Mikael locking away Niklaus's wolf side and swearing hatred on him, he sought to punish him further by shoving a dagger deep into her chest.

Niklaus's scream shook the trees, Elijah held him as his sobs dragged the grass back into the ground and buried the life that was lost.

As centuries past, his grief was hidden behind more death and agony of which Klaus inflicted across the world. Her face was painted a million times over, a thousand different styles until Klaus could not bear to look at her anymore, it was like tearing his heart out over and over.

When the daggers came into his possession, they reminded him of her. He could still see her fearful eyes begging him for help as the blood seeped through her dress. And yet the weapon made him feel close to her each time he used them.

Her memory began to fade as the years went by, she drifted within his mind as other things came and went. But she could never be forgotton.

Esther knew that, and she used that to her advantage. She knew from the first time she stumbled across her son bathing in the lake late at night with his arms hanging loosely around a girls naked hips, their foreheads touching as they gazed lovingly at each other. When mikael killed her, she kept the girl preserved and buried safely.

A thousand years later she finally had use for the girl.

So when her children stood threateningly at the doorway, Klaus's rage on full display, Y/N's frightened whisper would break his attention.

His eyes found her. She was in that same dress she died in, still stained by her own blood but now coated head to toe in mud. He stepped forward but Esther's hand grabbed Y/N's wrist tight in a warning and he froze. So did Elijah and Rebekah.

"She's human, Niklaus." His mother reminded. "You could be human with her, have a family, a real life together like you were supposed to." She offered, watching the glimmer in her sons eyes.

Elijah stepped forward, hold hand resting on Klaus's shoulder as he too stared straight at the confused, petrified girl they had all loved.

"She's not real." Elijah whispered, assuming it was a trick and Esther's expression darkened as a blade was swiped quickly across Y/N's wrist, not hard enough to be fatal but enough to draw blood and panic Klaus.

He was in front of her in a second, trying to pull her to him but Esther threw him to the wall before he could reach and just like that Elijah and Rebekah were moving too.

Y/N was shaking silently in the corner by the time that Esther had been torn apart.

Her body flinched and trembled even once she resided in Niklaus's arms. She whimpered weakly, confused words recited in the same language they had used all that time ago. Niklaus didn't remember much but he had played the memories of their words over and over so many times that he was still able to comfort her in his mother tongue.

They got her home quickly, hiding her away in Klaus's room and muttering amongst themselves as to what to do.

"There must be a way to at least let her understand english-" Rebekah questioned and Elijah sighed, glancing over to how Y/N's fingers touched Klaus's curls and she whispered in their old language about how short it had become.

"We'll ask Davina... we should let Niklaus get her washed...she appears as though she'd been dug up." He murmured, a furrow to is brow.

Rebekahs gaze drifted to her dirtied finger nails. "She wasn't dug up...mother wouldn't be so kind. She dug her own way out." She uttered and Elijah grimaced.

"Come, we should get her some tea..." Elijah swallowed thickly, guiding Rebekah out of the room and leaving his brother alone with his old love.

His hands tried to pick the clumps of dirt from her hair whilst also trying to understand the fast words she threw at him. He tried to give her the word for bathing and eventually she nodded, holding onto his hands as he lead her into the bathroom.

The bath was small, not like the lake and the water was hot, it startled her. Klaus steadied her, helping her down and climbing in behind her when she cried out for him not to leave her alone. Not again.

The feel of her skin back against his was a feeling Klaus had been so sure he had forgotten forever. She tried to turn to face him, ending up completely pressed on top of him as his hands washed the soap and water down her back only start panicking when the expensive body wash made her soft skin scatter with red rash.

"Oh-" He muttered and wrapped his arm round her waist and lifted her up with him. She muttered out in confusion but didn't struggle, too happy to be in his hold as he drained the water and started again, laying back down with her. "Come here, my sweet." He guided her onto her back so he could reach and see her hair as he washed it enough until it was back to the silkiness he remembered so fondly.

He heard her little sniffles first, before her shoulder shook slightly with a sob. Klaus's heart sunk slightly and he nudged his nose into the side of her neck, placing gentle kissed like she had loved so much but they made her cry harder.

Her words were lost on him, he couldn't recall the language well enough after so long and it made his guilt swirl so much it hurt. Klaus tried to make sense of something but all he could make out was "Darkness" and "loneliness".

He tried to comfort her with the few words still in memory but she wouldn't stop, not even once she was dressed in one of his shirts and tucked to his chest under the covers, a cup of tea in Klaus's hands that he'd insisted she sip on from time to time.

Eventually she sunk into sleep but it only lasted for so long before she was clawing at her throat with her already broken nails, as though she were suffocating.

Klaus grabbed at her hands, immediately being sucked into her mind. The image of her waking beneath the ground, unable to breathe or see as her hands tried to find the light above.

Only a few seconds passed before Elijah was bursting through the door, awakened by the screams. Rebekah and Marcel a few seconds later.

"I'm calling Davina." Marcel muttered to Rebekah after actually seeing the girls condition and hearing her foreign cries.

The lights were back on which calmed her partly, finally being able to see. Her hands clung onto Klaus's shirt, clutching the fabric against her palm for any sort of security.

Elijah and Rebekah were sat on the edge of Klaus's bed, watching the once full of life girl from their village full of fear and confusion.

Ages went by before Marcel returned with a half asleep Davina and a couple candles. Klaus rocked his love calmly, hand stroking her arm to prove he was still there as Davina set up around them. Her chant echoed through the room, flames standing tall and proud as she reluctantly held her hand out for Klaus to take and then gently held Y/N's in the other.

"I'm sorry...this is the only way I can think of." She whispered before a thousand years worth of Klaus's memories were thrust upon Y/N.

A loud sound of pain emitted from her and she held her head. Klaus frowned in concern, trying to cup her face to see what was happening but when she looked back at him it was like she had seen a ghost.

A thousand variants of each emotion painted her expression before she crawled back against him and breathed in his scent with each hiccuped cry.

After a while the others left and Klaus rest his chin on top her head.

She didn't utter a word for days, not in any language. Klaus would dress her and feed her each day, hold her to him as he showed her the television which only seemed to hurt her head.

He had left her downstairs on the couch when she had fallen into for once a stable sleep without the traumatic nightmare of being buried alive.

He was just in the other room, trying to think of any way to make things better for her and for them.

Y/N being alive had never once been a possibility in his mind, especially her being alive with no knowledge of any time passing to all of a sudden knowing every shameful act he'd committed.

Klaus was too lost in thought to hear Camille making her way into the abattoir, calling out for him and stumbling across Y/N who had just woken.

"Oh...uh hi." She blinked at the girl. She was clearly in Klaus's clothes. The sweatpants were barely holding onto her hips and the shirt was easily recognisable. Y/N stared back, she recognised her, from Klaus's memories. Camille, Cami.

He liked her, they'd danced together. He'd thought about her, a lot. It made her stomach twist uneasily and her knees pull to her chest self-consciously.

"Camille." Klaus's voice echoed over her head before he was kneeling down beside her and stroking her head, checking she hadn't woken in terror again. "I'm afraid this isn't a good time." He informed her, sitting down on the sofa and noting how Y/N withdrew, instantly making the mental connection.

"You haven't been answering, I worried something had happened." She explained warily as she watched Klaus watch Y/N.

"This is Y/N." He introduced faintly, his attention not lifting to her. "She died a thousand years ago but my mother brought her back, she's struggling to adjust for the moment. I'd appreciate if you left, I don't think new people is helping right now." He tried to tell her to leave as politely as possible.

Cami only nodded, the information hitting like a wave as she apologised under her breath and retreated.

Klaus stroked Y/N's cheek as he sighed softly, "Please understand that I love you Y/N." He murmured. "I would have chosen you over any woman I have ever come across without a doubt. I would have taken my mother's deal, I would be human beside you." He told her, eyes sincere. "I only wish we could go back all those years, I should have married you then." He uttered, a kiss pressed to her cheek.

"Why didn't you?" She whispered, speaking in english for the first time.

"I was afraid. Not of us, of-"

"Mikael." She mumbled, “I remember now, sorry." She sniffed and he sighed.

"You shouldn't have been given all my memories like that, it's too much for anyone to handle all at once." He sighed, his hands cupping her face and stroking her soft cheeks. "I won't ever leave you alone again. Never in the dark, never in the cold, never anywhere."

"I don't understand why she would bring me back." Y/N whispered and Klaus frowned.

"I'm happy you're here, my heart." He murmured, his brows furrowed. "I've lived to long without you, and you have not lived long enough. Things will be better now."

"You hurt and kill..." She whispered, a soft sniff to her words and he looked down.

"I know." He nodded. He hated all the evil she had seen him do through his memories. He was nothing like he used to be. "But I'd never hurt you, and I'd keep you safe."

"I don't want to be here." She whimpered and he held her onto his lap.

"It's just hard at the moment, we've only just started adjusting. It'll get easier and you'll start to like it. I know you've seen things through me but it'll be so much better when you actually experience them." He persuaded, stroking her hair but she didn't look overly convinced.

"I don't want to push my way into your new life." She mumbled and sighed softly to himself in slight annoyance, not being annoyed with her but annoyed with the idea that he could ever not want her with him in his life. She would never be an inconvenience for him, a long time ago she was every thing for him and now she was that again. It had been clear that Klaus's attention had remained on her since the second his eyes found hers again, it was very possible that Klaus wouldn't be so infatuated with power so much now.

She held the innocence of his past that he had lost. She gave him something that no thing or other person could ever supply.

She was old life and she would be his new life, he could finally have a second chance worth taking.

She closed her eyes, feeling the bed shift as he moved behind her. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, thumb pressing against her pulse point.

"The radial artery," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "Right here. Can you feel your heartbeat under my thumb?"

She could. Her heart was doing complicated things that had nothing to do with anatomy and everything to do with his proximity. His fingers traced up her forearm, pressing gently.

"The radius bone runs here, along the thumb side of your forearm. And just beside it..." His other hand traced a parallel line. "The ulna. Two bones working together to let you rotate your wrist. Like this."

He demonstrated by turning her hand palm-up, then palm-down. “Now you'll remember," he said, voice thick with amusement. "Because you'll think of this every time you look at that textbook."

"That's cheating," Y/N breathed.

"It’s effective teaching." His hands slid higher, fingers trailing along the inside of her elbow. "The brachial artery branches here. Major blood vessel. Very dangerous to sever. I've seen men bleed out in minutes from a wound right here."

"You're supposed to be helping me study, not giving me nightmares."

"I'm doing both." She could hear the grin in his voice. "Where's the humerus, love?"

"Upper arm bone. Runs from shoulder to elbow."

"Good girl." His hands moved to her shoulders, thumbs pressing into the joint. "And here's where it connects to the scapula. Feel that? The way it rotates in the socket?"

He guided her arm through a slow circle, and she was acutely aware that this was the least educational anatomy lesson in the history of education.

"Now," Klaus said, his hands settling on her ribcage, "tell me what organs the ribs protect."

"Heart and lungs," she managed, though thinking was becoming increasingly difficult with his palms warm against her sides.

"And where exactly is your heart, sweetheart?" His hand slid to rest over her left breast, palm flat against where her heart was hammering. "Right here. Between the fourth and fifth ribs, slightly left of center. I can feel it racing."

"That's because you're being distracting."

"Am I now?" His thumb traced the curve of her bottom rib. "The liver sits here, on your right side, just beneath the ribcage. Largest internal organ. Extremely vascular, which means—"

"It bleeds a lot if damaged. I know. I read that part."

"But now you'll remember it." His hands spanned her waist. "Because you'll remember this."

Y/N opened her eyes and turned her head to find him watching her with that intense focus that still made her stomach flip even after three years.

"This is the worst study method ever," she said.

"Is it working?"

She grabbed the textbook, flipping to a diagram of the skeletal system. "Radius is thumb-side forearm bone. Ulna is pinky-side. Humerus is upper arm. Scapula is shoulder blade. Heart between fourth and fifth ribs, left of center. Liver right side, beneath ribs."

Klaus's grin was absolutely wicked. "See? Effective. You're going to ace this exam." He pulled her into his lap, textbook and all. "Now, shall we discuss the skeletal structure of the hand? I have very strong opinions about metacarpals."

"Of course you do."

But she didn't pull away. And when he started explaining the twenty-seven bones in the human hand while tracing each one on her palm, she actually retained the information. Even if he was using a thousand years of creative violence to help her pass anatomy.

· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·

Klaus was sprawled across his bed the following evening, reading a first edition of Byron's poetry. One he'd acquired directly from the source back in 1816. That’s when Y/N burst through the door with her anatomy textbook and a determined expression. 

"Take your shirt off."

He lowered the book slowly, one eyebrow arching in amusement as a slow smirk spread across his face. "Well, love, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but generally there's a bit more preamble. Perhaps some—"

"I need to study muscles," she interrupted, already pulling sticky notes and markers from her bag. "You have muscles. Take your shirt off."

The smirk faltered slightly. "You want me to...what, exactly?"

"Be my anatomical model." She was flipping through the textbook, completely focused. "Yesterday you helped with bones and organs. Today I need to map muscle groups. The trapezius, deltoids, pectoralis major, all of it. So. Shirt. Off."

Klaus set the book aside, genuinely caught off guard for possibly the first time in decades.

"You're serious."

"Dead serious. I have an exam in three days and I still can't tell the difference between the flexor carpi radialis and the flexor carpi ulnaris."

"Those are in the forearm, love."

"I KNOW." She looked up at him with those eyes that had been wrecking his composure for three years. "Which is why I need a three-dimensional reference. Please?"

He couldn't quite suppress his grin as he sat up and pulled his henley over his head in one smooth motion. "You know, most people would just use diagrams."

"Most people don't have a thousand-year-old vampire boyfriend with perfect muscle definition." She stepped closer, textbook in one hand, sticky notes in the other. "Now hold still."

For the next twenty minutes, Klaus discovered what it was like to be treated as a living anatomy chart. Y/N circled him with scientific precision, comparing his actual musculature to the diagrams in her book. She pressed her fingers against his shoulder, feeling the way the deltoid connected, her touch clinical but maddening. 

Klaus's breath hitched. It was subtle, just the slightest catch, but enough that he had to close his eyes and concentrate on maintaining his composure. Legendary self-control, and here he was, undone by her fingertips tracing the contours of his shoulder.

She scribbled "DELTOID - raises arm laterally" on a pink sticky note and pressed it onto his skin, completely oblivious to the effect she was having.

Her fingers moved to his chest, mapping the pectoralis major with careful attention. Klaus kept his eyes firmly shut, jaw tight.

"You alright?" she asked absently, not looking up from her textbook.

"Perfectly fine, love." His voice came out rougher than intended. "Just...focusing."

Another sticky note landed on his chest. Her palm pressed flat against his sternum as she smoothed it down. His breathing definitely wasn't steady anymore.

She moved to his back, and he felt her fingers trace the line of his trapezius from neck to shoulder blade. The touch was exploratory and entirely innocent in intent. But it was driving him absolutely mad.

"This is absolutely ridiculous," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"This is effective studying. You said so yourself yesterday."

"Yes, but yesterday I was the one doing the teaching. This is different."

"How so?"

"Because yesterday I got to touch you. Today I'm supposed to sit here like a statue while you—" He broke off as her fingers found the tricep. "Bloody hell."

She patted his shoulder absently, already moving on to label different muscle groups. By the time she'd covered his arms, shoulders, chest, and back with sticky notes, Klaus looked like he'd been attacked by an overeagerly organized student, and his self-control was hanging by a thread.

Then her eyes landed on his paint supplies.

"Oh, that's perfect."

"What's perfect? Y/N, what are you—"

She'd already grabbed his cadmium red and a fine brush. "The book shows the muscles in different colors to distinguish them. If I outline them on you, I can see exactly where they start and stop."

"Absolutely not."

"Klaus, please? It'll wash off."

"I'm a hybrid, not a canvas!"

But she was already uncapping the paint with a look that meant arguing was pointless. He sighed, resigned to his fate. "You're lucky I love you."

"I know." She dipped the brush in red paint. "Now flex your arm."

Klaus sighed, obeying her commands snd she just...stopped. Stared. Her eyes fixed on the way his bicep curved under the skin, the definition of muscle that came from a millennium of fighting. 

Klaus's eyes opened. The corner of his mouth twitched. "See something you like, sweetheart?"

She blinked, cheeks flushing. "I'm studying."

"Studying requires looking at the textbook occasionally." His smirk widened. "You've been staring at my arm for fifteen seconds which I would know because I counted."

"I was comparing it to the diagram."

"The diagram is on the table behind you, my love"

Her blush deepened. "Shut up."

"Make me." His voice dropped lower, teasing. "Or are you too busy admiring the brachialis? Perhaps the biceps brachii? I can flex again if you need a longer look." He flexed again, deliberately slow. "What happened to clinical detachment, love? All that scientific focus?"

"I hate you," she muttered, but she was fighting a smile as she finally pressed the brush to his skin.

She traced the bicep, her tongue caught between her teeth in concentration. The paint was cool against his skin, her touch feather-light as she followed the muscle's contour from shoulder to elbow. Klaus watched her work, and despite the torment of sitting still while she touched him so innocently, there was something quietly perfect about this moment. The little furrow between her brows and even the way she muttered anatomical terms under her breath.

She switched to blue for the triceps, yellow for the deltoid, and green for the pectoralis major. "There," she finally announced, stepping back to admire her work. "Perfect. Now I can actually see how everything connects."

Klaus looked down at himself covered in paint outlines and sticky notes, looking like the world's most ridiculous anatomy lesson.

"I look like a child's art project."

"You look educational." She was already taking photos with her phone from different angles. "This is going to help so much."

"Thrilled to be of service," he said dryly. 

She laughed, finally looking up from her phone to really look at him. "Thank you. I know this is weird."

"Weird doesn't begin to cover it, love." He plucked a sticky note off his chest. "But if it helps you pass your exam, I suppose I can endure the indignity."

"My hero," she teased.

"Speaking of which." He stood, paint-covered and sticky-note-decorated, and closed the distance between them. "Since you've quite literally decorated me, I think it's only fair you help clean it off."

"I was going to let you shower—"

In one smooth motion, he had her lifted over his shoulder. "Klaus!"

"You put it there, sweetheart. You're helping wash it off." He was already heading toward his bathroom, her protests dissolving into laughter. "Consider it additional anatomy study. I'll even quiz you on muscle function while we're at it."

"That's not how studying works!"

"It is now."

The shower turned on, steam immediately beginning to fog the glass. Klaus set her down just long enough to start pulling sticky notes off himself, dropping them in a colorful pile on the bathroom counter.

"This is going to take forever," Y/N protested, but she was already pulling her sweater over her head. "Some of those paint lines are really detailed."

"Then I suppose we'll be here a while." He stepped under the spray, colored water already running down his chest as the paint began to dissolve. He held out his hand. "Coming, love?"

She took it, stepping into the shower with him, warm water cascading over them both. "You're going to quiz me, aren't you."

"Absolutely." His hands were already working shampoo through her hair, fingers massaging her scalp. "What's the largest muscle in the human body?"

"Gluteus maximus."

"Good girl." His hands slid down her back deliberately, finding exactly that muscle and squeezing with intent.

She gasped against him. "Klaus—"

"What? I'm being educational." But his smirk was absolutely wicked. "And what does the sartorius do?"

She tried to focus through the distraction of his hands still kneading her backside. "Flexes the hip and knee. It's the longest muscle in the body."

"Excellent." He pressed a kiss to her temple, then without warning, lifted her effortlessly against the shower wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as the water streamed over both of them.

"What muscle did I just use to lift you?" he asked, voice dropping lower. Her brain scrambled to function while pressed against tile, held up by nothing but his strength.

"The—the deltoids helped. Biceps. Core muscles for stabilization."

"Very good, sweetheart." One hand slid up her thigh, squeezing the muscle there. "And what muscle is this?"

"Quadriceps," she breathed.

His hand moved higher, fingers tracing, caressing. "And this?"

"Adductors. Inner thigh."

"Mmm. You're doing so well." His lips found her neck, teeth grazing. "What about here?" His hand splayed across her ribcage.

"External obliques."

"Perfect." The word rumbled against her throat. "See how much better you remember when there's proper motivation?"

"This is—" She lost her train of thought entirely when his thumb traced circles against her hip. "This is not proper study technique."

"Isn't it? You're answering every question correctly." He shifted his hold, demonstrating his point. "What muscles am I using now to keep you exactly where I want you?"

She was trembling, and not from the cooling water.

"Deltoids, biceps, pectorals for...for holding. Core strength. Gluteus maximus for hip extension and—oh god—"

"Keep going, love. You're doing brilliantly."

"I can't think when you're—"

"When I'm what?" Pure innocence in his tone, completely contradicted by the way his hands were mapping her body. "I'm simply providing hands-on education. You said you needed a three-dimensional reference."

“I did?” 

“Mhm. And you're going to ace this exam,” he finally lowered her back to her feet, though his hands remained at her waist. "Because every time you look at those diagrams, you're going to remember this. Aren't you?"

Her legs were unsteady, her heart was racing, and yes, she was absolutely going to remember every single muscle group now. "You're very pleased with yourself."

"Extremely." He tucked wet hair behind her ear. "Now, let's actually wash this paint off before the water runs cold. And I expect you to identify every muscle I use while doing so."

"You're going to make me work for this, aren't you?"

"Always, sweetheart." His grin was devastating. They stayed in the shower until every trace of color had washed away, Klaus continuing his relentless anatomical quiz while she scrubbed paint from his skin, both of them laughing when she got an answer wrong and he found creative ways to help her remember the correct one.

By the time they finally emerged, wrapped in towels with the bathroom thick with steam, Y/N had successfully memorized twelve major muscle groups and several creative applications thereof. And Klaus had a pile of sticky notes on his counter that he absolutely was not throwing away, along with the private satisfaction of knowing his girlfriend would never look at an anatomy textbook the same way again.

· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·

Klaus drove into her, his hands gripping her hips as she lay beneath him. But something felt off. Her responses were all there. The usual soft gasps and the way her body arched but her focus wasn't. Her hands weren't clutching at him desperately as they usually did; instead, they were...exploring. They were focused and dare he say too focused as they traced patterns across his shoulders and down his spine.

He slowed his movements, watching her face. Her eyes were slightly unfocused, her brow furrowed in concentration that had nothing to do with pleasure.

"Are you..." he began, disbelief coloring his tone, "Are you studying my musculature while I'm fucking you?"

Y/N's eyes snapped to his, a guilty flush spreading across her cheeks. "What? No! I'm—" she broke off as his expression darkened. "Maybe a little?"

Klaus stilled completely, still buried inside her, his jaw tightening. "Let me understand this correctly," he said, his accent thickening dangerously. "I have you naked beneath me, my cock inside you, and you're using this opportunity to mentally catalog my trapezius?"

She bit her lip, fighting a smile despite the tension. "It's just...they're right there," she explained weakly as he drops his head into the crook of his neck "And they're so well-defined when you're holding yourself up like this. I can see exactly where the latissimus dorsi connects to—"

"Oh my god." Klaus lifted his head to stare at her in utter disbelief. "I'm literally inside you and you're thinking about anatomy."

"It's your fault!" She tried to defend herself, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. "You made me use you as a study model and now I can't stop thinking about it!"

"That was supposed to help you pass your exam, not ruin our sex life!"

"It's not ruining—"

Klaus cut her off with a growl, pulling out of her entirely and flipping her onto her stomach in one fluid movement. Before she could protest, he'd pinned her wrists above her head with one hand. "If you insist on treating me like an anatomy lesson," he murmured against her ear, his free hand sliding beneath her to lift her hips, "then I'll make certain it's one you won't forget."

He entered her again, the new angle drawing a genuine gasp from her lips. "Now," he continued, his voice conversational as he established a punishing rhythm, "since you're so interested in muscle function, let's discuss what's happening right now."

His hand released her wrists to slide down her back, following the curve of her spine. "The erector spinae," he informed her, fingers tracing the muscles along either side of her vertebrae, "contracts to arch your back just like this."

His hand moved to grip her hip, fingers digging into the flesh there. "The gluteus medius," he continued, punctuating the words with a deep thrust that made her cry out, "stabilizes your pelvis while I'm taking you."

"Klaus," she moaned, all thoughts of studying forgotten as her fingers clutched at the sheets.

"No, no," he chided, reaching around to cup her breast, thumb circling her nipple. "Pay attention, love. This is educational. The pectoralis major," he squeezed gently, "so sensitive to touch."

His other hand slid between her legs, finding her center with ease. "And here," he murmured, circling the bundle of nerves with his fingers as he continued to move within her, "is where all those nerve endings converge. Fascinating bit of anatomy, wouldn't you agree?"

Y/N could only respond with incoherent sounds of pleasure, her body trembling beneath his expert touch.

"I asked you a question," he prompted, slowing his movements until she whimpered in protest.

"Yes," she gasped out. "Fascinating. Please, Klaus—"

"Please what?" His voice was silk wrapped around steel. "Continue the anatomy lesson?"

"No!" she cried out. "Just...please."

He leaned down, his chest pressed against her back, lips at her ear. "I want to hear you say it," he demanded softly. "Tell me where your attention is now."

"On you," she breathed. "You. I swear."

He smiled against her skin, satisfaction evident in the curve of his lips. "Good girl," he praised, resuming his earlier pace. "Now, shall I demonstrate what happens when these muscles contract all at once?"

His fingers moved faster against her center, his thrusts becoming more intense as he drove her toward the edge.

"Klaus!" she cried out, her body tightening around him as release crashed over her.

He followed her moments later, his own release punctuated by a low groan against her neck. They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and ragged breathing. After several moments, Klaus rolled onto his side, pulling her against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her arm as their breathing returned to normal.

"So," he said finally, amusement coloring his tone, "did that help with your studies?"

Y/N turned in his arms to face him, her expression sheepish but satisfied. "Definitely," she admitted. "Though I'm not sure I could explain any of it on an exam."

"Perhaps not," he agreed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I guarantee you'll never look at a muscle diagram the same way again."

She laughed, burying her face against his chest. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

Klaus shook his head, a rare genuine smile softening his features. "Next time you need to study," he suggested, pulling her closer, "perhaps just ask me to pose for you properly. Less distracting for both of us."

"Where's the fun in that?" she countered, but he was already pulling her on top of him, all thoughts of anatomy lesson forgotten as her lips found his once more.

· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·

The divide between the Vampires, Witches and Wolves had become too much. Wars had plagued the factions for far too long, killing far too many. To settle the war, Elijah was pressed to marry a werewolf, Hayley, Freya too married a wolf, Keelin and then Kol and Niklaus were pushed to marry witches, Davina and Y/N. Rebekah had managed to marry Marcel before the war had started keeping her out of the negotiations. Such decisions had been made to ensure the Mikaelsons would end up protecting all parties. Despite their violent nature, family did come first and so making them family was the best chance they all had at becoming one.

Witches were the faction Niklaus had liked least. He didn’t like that they could have to upper hand; the power. He’d used and abused them many times through the centuries and now was forced to marry one.

Whilst the other Mikaelsons attempted to get to know their new partners, Klaus refused to meet Y/N before their wedding day.

And so, for one of the few times in his long life, Niklaus felt nervous. Stood at the alter, staring down the pathway, waiting for what felt like an eternity before the witch emerged with no father to walk her down the aisle.

Klaus took the time it took her to approach, to admire her appearance and choice in dress. Though he was mildly disappointed by the modesty, it also intrigued him. He could feel her looking him over too, though he couldn’t quite tell whether she was impressed or not. She merely glanced at the witch who already stood by the alter, the maid of honour presumably, who nodded with encouragement as Y/N finally came to stand beside Niklaus.

When they turned to face one another, he could see the fear inside her eyes, the touch of sadness and defeat. His jaw ticked and he turned to glance at Elijah who only glared back as a reminder of how crucial this marriage was.

And so, with reluctance from both sides, Y/N and Klaus said their “I do”s. He watched as her face flushed pink, and her eyes shifted awkwardly across his face, eventually stilling on his lips. Klaus knew in that instance that she had never been kissed before, that she was scared not only because of who and what he was but because she was young and lacked any life experience let alone relationship experience. So he responded as gently as he could, kissing her softly, almost sweetly before taking her hand and leading her back down the aisle whilst everyone else began to shift into the next room for the dinner, drinks and dances.

Klaus took her into a smaller room, away from the bright lights and the cameras, the music and the people. There he sighed quietly to himself when her eyes grew red and wet, her bottom lip wobbled and her hands shook.

“It’s alright.” He murmured, cupping her face and stroking her cheek with his thumb in an attempt to comfort Y/N.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered, rubbing her nose with the back of his hand, causing him to grimace slightly before pulling the handkerchief from his inside pocket.

“Come now love,” he wiped her nose gently, “I’m not so bad.” The words were lightly teasing, an attempt at some humour but Y/N wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready for any of it.

Still, eventually he coaxed her to go with him to the main hall and pulled the chair out for her. He attempted ignore the faint whispers of “she’ll be fine” amongst the witches, the glances his siblings made and the mutterings of the vampires who were still against the alliance.

Klaus felt his gaze soften upon their dance, when he heard her uttering the steps under her breath, it was clear she had rehearsed. She watched her feet and his, her breathing picking up when she made a slight misstep. Klaus wondered silently why the witches would have chosen her to marry him.

Hayley had been a strong female alpha wolf, matching Elijah’s morality and pushing back with force. Keelin, similarly had as much bite and say as Freya and even Davina, although sweet had her defiance and fire. But Y/N seemed only afraid, not a force to be reckoned with at all.

But the witches knew what they were doing. As much as Niklaus enjoyed a challenge, he enjoyed feeling needed and wanted more. Having someone to protect, to look after would likely be longer lasting than someone pushing back against his buttons. Y/N was a deliberate choice, a gamble on what they knew and believed of Niklaus Mikaelson.

They just so happened to be right.

Klaus spent the majority of the first few weeks of their marriage attempting to bring her out of her shell, telling her stories and offering her different things. He took her shopping, waiting patiently as she came out in different outfits. At night he would press his mouth to hers, encouraging her to part her lips and let her tongue dance with his. He’d chuckle softly when his eyes would open to see all the items in his room floating. Y/N would flush, thinking Klaus was laughing at her before realising that her magic had once again slipped from her control.

Klaus soon enjoyed sitting and reading through grimoires with her, watching as she perfected spell after spell.

Klaus found himself enjoying her presence very much, there was just one thing their relationship lacked: sex. Although it had only been a couple months, Klaus hadn’t had to go without sex for longer than a few days in centuries.

So, he began to hint. Hand on her thigh, encouraging her hands on his thighs, brushing her breast whilst kissing her deeply, hiking her leg over his hip in bed, but she just didn’t get it.

Klaus could smell her arousal, practically taste it, but she made no move to reciprocate or any indication that she even understood what he wanted.

It was only upon her accidentally walking in on him with his hand around his cock that she realised his needs. She’d been looking for him for a while, began wondering the other rooms. When opening the spare bedroom door, she expected to find only a clean empty bed. Instead, her husband lay a sweaty mess with his hips bucking up and head back. The gasp that left her made him spring up, the sheets pulled over his lap as his wide eyes locked on hers. Minutes later he was sat in his, now their room, gently explaining that he was simply fulfilling one of his needs and he was sorry for not locking the door.

“It’s okay” she whispered, “s’my fault for ignoring you when you tried to show me”

Klaus only blinked at her. “You knew?”

“I won’t be any good, I’ve never done it.” The way she said it, was as though it would be a surprise. Klaus only smiled.

“I know, love. I knew the moment I saw you at the end of the aisle, when you weren’t sure how to kiss me back. But you’re an excellent kisser now” he reminded, “because you’ve had plenty of practice.” The words were teasing and she smiled shyly back. His hand gently caressed her knee as he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I can teach you to be good at anything.”

Y/N leaned to him, resting her head against his shoulder whilst he danced his fingertips along the soft skin of her thigh, up under the little dress he’d bought for her.

“Come here.” He whispered, kissing the side of her head gently and pressing down into her flesh, grabbing both her thighs and urging her forward. Slowly, Y/N shifted onto his lap. “Like that” he murmured as he set her legs open around his waist, straddling him effectively. He lifted the skirt of her dress, staring down at her panties on the verge of drooling. “Just…just gonna rub okay?” He held his hand out and caressed her gently through the soft cotton, admiring how the fabric dampened and clung to her pussy. Klaus listened to her breathing, enjoying the uneven pattern when he teased her entrance through her underwear.

Y/N swallowed thickly as she felt her whole body became hot. She wasn’t quite sure what to do when her hips bucked without her meaning to. Klaus only continued to praise her. “See? Your body is already learning, see that?” He brushed her the same way, causing her hips to flex again. “Good girl, right there” he rubbed her clit quickly, grinning to himself when she humped against his fingers.

The soft little sounds she let out only grew louder before her panties were soaked through, her pussy so wet he could hear her little hole clench. “Fuck, come here” he mumbled but Y/N wasn’t sure how to get any closer.

“Where?” She whispered and he groaned, tugging her panties until the elastic inside snapped and he could tear the fabric off her skin. At the exposure, Y/N instinctively tried to get off and close her legs. Klaus let out a small yelp when her knee knocked between his own legs.

“Love-“ he tried to get a hold of her but she was pulling her dress back down with trembling hands. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, wrapping his arm over her waist to pull her back beside him. “Shh, I’m sorry.” He kissed her temple and cupped her cheek, feeling how hot her skin was. He could feel her embarrassment, and he resented himself for it. “I shouldn’t have done that” he mumbled, kissing her face in small but repetitive gestures.

“I’m not…I haven’t had time.” She whimpered and he rubbed her side comfortingly.

“Time for what, love?” He murmured, his forehead against her cheek, a position that appeared almost submissive.

“To look ready.” He watched her swallow the little lump down her throat. His brows pinched for a second before he nudged her gently with his nose.

“Love?” He whispered and she remained quiet but he knew he had her attention. “I don’t care about some hair.”

The words lingered and she felt her face get even hotter. Her friends had made it clear that Klaus, being as old and as experienced as he was, would expect nothing less than perfection. Y/N had taken it too seriously. She was too fearful something wouldn’t look right or feel right.

“I’ve not…I don’t know how to shave it off.” She whispered and Klaus nodded, stroking her arm slowly.

“That doesn’t matter. I just want to feel you, love.” He nuzzled her cheek and brushed her thighs again. “You’re beautiful, I know you’ll be gorgeous there too.”

After another minute or too, he had her legs back open, caressing her directly this time rather than through her panties. She watched him watch her, seeing the love and affection in his eyes led her to comfort. Slowly, her body relaxed and moved with his hand toward her pleasure once again. Her fingers curled into the material of his henley when his head settled between her thighs.

“There, like that” he had her tap him twice quickly. “You tap like that if you want it to stop.” Klaus nodded up at her reassuringly before letting his tongue stroke along her lips. He pulled her legs up over his shoulder and dug in. Y/N arched naturally, her body pushing against the heat of his mouth as he sucked her clit between his lips. Klaus worked with only his tongue and teeth to push her to the edge, his eyes occasionally glancing out to watch how her face contorted with pleasure.

He didn’t push for anything more, didn’t try guide her hands to his crotch. Just led back beside her and held her close to his chest. When she fell to sleep, he slipped back away to finish himself off.

It wasn’t long before he had her down on the floor, her face in his hands whilst he gently guided her head back and forth, watching her struggle to slide his cock down her throat. Her eyes would glaze over and he’d catch the little dribble of saliva from the corner of her mouth.

Y/N had attempted to seduce him, positioned herself across their bed in a brand new set of underwear, waiting nervously as the door handle twisted. Klaus was of course entranced, but he also couldn’t help but find her adorable rather than a sex symbol. He could see how much she was trying, how uncomfortable she felt in the clothes. So of course, he helped take them off. He caressed the little bumps on her skin from where she’s shaved her hair down.

“Told you I didn’t mind.” He mumbled but kissed her mound in appreciation anyway. As much as Y/N enjoyed his mouth, she moved away and nudged him down onto his back. klaus smiled to himself when she settled on top of him, grinding clumsily on his clothed cock. His eyes narrowed slightly at the little show she put on, the sway of her hips and her mouth suckling along his skin as she pulled his pants open and down. She held him in her shaky hand and without any consideration for herself, took him inside her in one swift motion.

Klaus’s eyes widened when she suppressed a cry, and the way her tight hole attempted to push against him. His hands flew to her hips, holding her tight so she didn’t move too much.

“Christ,” he breathed, trying to keep her still as she whimpered. “Shh, it’s alright” he carefully arched himself to try check she was alright; no tearing or blood. “Can’t do that yet, love. You’re too tight for that.” He whispered, kissing her cheek gently and caressing her hips. “What made you do that, hm?”

“I’m sorry.” She sniffed, nuzzling into his neck. “Saw it and thought you’d like it.”

“Saw it?” He questioned, his brows knotting together.

“I was just trying to learn how to do it.” She whispered and Klaus bit back a groan.

“I said I’d teach you.” He murmured, kissing the side of her neck now. “God knows what you ended up watching.” Y/N only held onto him tighter.

Slowly, Klaus began to shift his hips against hers. He held the back of her head and rolled her onto her back as he began to take her. He shushed her went she let out a moan that was a little too loud to be real.

“Don’t copy any stupid video.” He mumbled, thrusting a little deeper to pull a genuine gasp from her lips. Klaus took his time exploring her body, trying different angles to see which ones would make her arch more, whine higher and beg better.

“Alright, guys,” he finally called out. “Let’s get started.” They’d moved the tables to the side to hold the snacks, so now everyone took a seat in the chairs that were gathered in the center. There wasn’t much formality in this meeting. The only thing that really mattered was that everyone could see the screen.

“Okay, I only have a few items to go over before we get to the good part. So, if you let me get through this quickly, than we can deal with the reason you all showed up today.” That got the laugh he was looking for. Everyone was in great spirits.

“I hope you all had a great break and are rested and ready to dive into a new term. First, as I’m sure you’ve all noticed, Johnny isn’t here. He’s snowboarding in the Alps, apparently.” Steve suppressed an eye roll. He had the best staff in the country, but it was still like wrangling cats sometimes. “So for this term, Ari will be teaching morning yoga, while Lloyd will take over the rest of physical fitness, rolling that into his usual personal grooming curriculum.”

Curtis scoffed. “You just want to be able to walk around them all when they’re in Lycra and bark orders,” he said to Lloyd.

Lloyd preened. “You bet your ass, I do. Best term ever.”

Steve continued. “Otherwise, there haven’t been any staffing changes, so all of your admins and monitors will be the same.”

He glanced down at the notes on his tablet. “I wanted to highlight a couple new initiatives we’ve started. Ransom and his marketing team have broken into job fairs, specifically the ones targeted at women.” At the sound of laughter, Steve chuckled himself. “I know, I know, what do they need job fairs for? But the idea payed off. We had a record number of self-enroll applicants, and our wait list is now bursting. So, great job, Ransom!” There was a brief round of applause and Ransom gave a quick nod, looking characteristically self-satisfied.

“On the other end of the spectrum, I’m very excited to announce that thanks to Andy diligently working his connections in the DA’s office, we are now an official alternative to prison for all sentencing and plea deals of adult female defendants. At our own discretion, of course,” he added with a grin. They obviously wouldn’t take just anyone. “This is great news because for every enrollee we take from the county, we’ll get a large stipend, and we’ll still get to collect their full bride-price at the end of year auction. So a huge congratulations to Andy for this deal!” There was more applause and Steve let himself feel all of the immense pride that filled his chest looking at the team he’d assembled.

He was the fourth generation of Rogers men to run this school. Started by his great-grandfather almost a hundred years ago, it’d grown into one of the most prestigious wife-training institutions in the country. Definitely the most prestigious on the East Coast. It’d survived economic depression, world wars, political upheaval. It was even widely credited with helping found the movement that had turned the tide against the growing threat of women’s liberation fifty years ago. Steve took his place in that history extremely seriously. The work they did here was important. He’d worked hard to modernize their curriculum and recruiting strategies, never forgetting that the most important lesson they taught here, no matter the subject, was obedience. That was what led to happy lives, happy families, for all involved. And it was that belief that was threaded through every decision he made here. And all the people he’s brought together to help this school meet it’s full potential.

“Alright, now that that’s done. We can get to why we’re all here.” Steve paused as everyone cheered. He could already tell this was going to be an especially rowdy kickoff. “Thanks to Ransom’s impressive recruitment efforts in all areas, we’ve got a full slate of private training sessions booked, so that means our group class is a little smaller this year. There will be just one advisee for each of us.” As he expected, there were grumbles, but he was quick to cut them off, “As most of us will be juggling multiple one-on-ones, I didn’t want to give anyone more than they could focus on in the group class. Plus, we have a few special cases here that I think might require some extra attention.

“As usual, any conflicts here as we make our selections will be decided by seniority-“

“Damn it! That isn’t fair!” Jake predictably called out. He was by far the newest instructor here and as such, complained loudly about their system every term. “I always just get stuck with the last one.”

“Stop whining,” Lloyd said with an eye roll that moved his whole body. “It’s never stopped you from falling in love with every single one you’ve gotten.”

“I don’t do that!” Jake objected. “I-“

“Oh my god,” Ransom interrupted. “Can you just shut up so we can get to the good part?”

Steve saw Jake’s chest puff up and the beginning of movement to get out of his chair, so he quickly brought the big screen at the front of the room to life, already on his first slide, containing a collection of pictures of a young woman with big eyes, blown wide with fear, that couldn’t quite make contact with the camera. There was a closeup of her face, along with a few full body photos in which she was clad only in her underwear. With her hands and posture, she tried to cover up as much of herself as she could, but her figure was clear, as were the sweet little blue flowers that dotted her cotton panties. “Alright,” Steve said, slightly louder than necessary to put an end to all the chatter. “First we have Sugar. She enrolled herself, thanks to Ransom’s new job fair gambit, so she’ll take part in the auction at the end of the term. As you can see, she’s very shy and fragile.” He paused. Ari was already leaning forward, just like he’d expected. “She’ll need a gentle hand,” he added with a mean smirk.

“Yeah, I’ll take her,” Ari called out the moment Steve finished speaking.

Curtis snorted. “Of course, you will. You love the shy ones.”

“They’re never shy for long with me,” Ari answered. “She’ll be a slobbering whore by the time I’m done with her.”

“No one else even had a chance to say anything,” Jake grumbled but went ignored as everyone else hooted at Ari.

As Ari had seniority over everyone but Steve, Steve moved on. “Next we have Baby Doll.” The pictures that filled the screen were of a woman with exhausted eyes, mouth in a thin line. She didn’t try to cover herself, but it was obvious that all of her muscles were tensed, desperate to run, especially her hands which were curled into tight fists. Her bra and panties were plain and cheap, worn out. “She’s the first in our new partnership with the county judicial system. Convicted of larceny and assault, we’re her last chance to avoid serious jail time. Andy, as you’re the one who put this program together, I doubt anyone would mind if you jumped the line and claimed her.”

Most everyone nodded their assent, except for Jake, of course, who opened his mouth to object. Steve cut that off with the harshest glare he could muster. Jake, thankfully, sat back in his chair with a scowl.

Andy leaned forward, carefully examining the pictures. After a long pause, he nodded with excitement in his eyes. “Yeah, I think I can do something with her. Get her back on the straight and narrow.”

“Excellent,” Steve said, making note of that on his tablet. Then he braced himself for what was about to happen as he clicked over to the next slide.

The room erupted immediately. Mostly mean-spirited cackling only broken up by Lloyd’s very loud booing. Steve sighed. “Yes, as you can see, Pumpkin is back.” He had to raise his voice to be heard above the din. The screen showed a woman with eyes demurely cast down, pretty lingerie framing her body, arms at her side, not even twitching to cover herself up. Her posture was… okay, but there were several things Steve would correct just at first glance. That was the thing about Pumpkin. Even after going through the program once, she was fine, but she wasn’t perfect.

“That bitch completely tanked my stats!” Lloyd yelled, throwing an arm at the screen. “All because Barber found a speck of dust during her final.“

“It was more than a speck,” Andy responded calmly. “And the meal she made was atrocious. I’d fail her again without significant improvement. No question.”

“Well, I’m not getting saddled with her again! No fucking way.”

Steve sighed. This was going about as well as he expected. “Anyone else interested?”

“Make Jensen take her,” Ransom sneered.

“What?” Jake threw his hands up in outrage. “No way! I want one of the shiny new ones!”

Just as Steve was about to try to force the issue, Curtis spoke up, with a sigh and an eye roll. “I’ll fucking do it.” He acted put-upon, but there was something gleeful in his eyes, something mean. It was why Steve was relieved it’d turned out this way. Curtis wouldn’t let her get away with anything. Not this time.

“Thank you, Curtis,” Steve said sincerely, while Ari clapped Curtis on the back.

Curtis responded with a shrug, but Steve could tell he was excited, underneath everything else.

“Okay, moving on,” Steve called out, and the room fortunately calmed down. He clicked over to the next slide. “This is Honeybun.” The pictures on the screen left so much to be desired, even for an initial intake. Her bra and panties were mismatched. Her eyebrows were overgrown. She looked at the camera head-on, no deference at all, and her smile was crooked. One of her bra straps had slipped off her shoulder. And she was slouching. Steve’s hand itched to reach through the screen and make her straighten up himself. “As you can see, we have a lot of work to do. If we assume her house-management matches her appearance, which I think it is safe to do, it’s no surprise her husband has come to us for help.”

“Jesus Christ,” Andy muttered, swiping a hand over his mouth.

“Anyone interested in straightening her out?”

Lloyd tilted his head from side to side in thought, but Steve knew this one wasn’t really his style. No, that one was next, so he was glad when Lloyd ended up shaking his head.

“I’ll do it!” Jake called out, too fucking eager, and Steve could already see the hearts in his eyes.

Goddamnit, the absolute last thing Steve or this school needed was Jake swanning over a student who already had a perfectly good husband paying the tuition fees. There was a decades in the making reputation to maintain. “No,” he said, loud and clear. “I’ll do this one myself.”

Jake threw his head back in irritation. “Then why did you even ask?” he whined. God, he was such a child. Maybe that was why he was so good at teaching the motherhood classes.

As he was about to return to his presentation, Ari caught his eye with a knowing smirk. Okay. Maybe keeping Jake out of a scandal wasn’t the only reason he’d jumped for this one. Maybe, seeing chaos like that had something thrumming inside him to impose his own order. To take a mess and turn it into perfection. And do it with his own two hands.

He swallowed roughly and cleared his throat, which just made Ari’s smirk get bigger. Steve ignored him and moved onto the next slide, which immediately caught everyone’s attention.

Lloyd threw his head back and laughed. “That one’s definitely mine,” he crowed.

“Princess,” Steve said, gesturing to the pictures of a woman in expensive lingerie snarling at the camera, blocking the view of her body with both middle fingers. Pure rage swirled in her eyes. “She’s obviously here because her husband’s at his wit’s end.”

“He have any limits for us?” Lloyd asked.

“None at all,” Steve shook his head. “He just wants results, doesn’t care how we get them.”

A cruel smile crept onto Lloyd’s face. “Excellent,” Lloyd said, and Steve could already see all the deviant ideas forming in his mind.

As Lloyd had seniority over the only two that were left, Steve moved on without anymore conversation. A sweet smile and bright eyes came on the screen. “This is Kitten.” She wore a an adorable matching set of pink cotton underwear. She stood a little awkwardly, like she was embarrassed but still trying to do what she was told. “She enrolled herself and is so excited to have been chosen. All she wants is to learn how to be the best wife and mother she can possibly be.”

“Mine!” Jake’s hand violently shot up into the air. “Mine. That one’s mine!! I’ll take her!”

Steve sighed. “Ransom, any objections?”

Ransom just shrugged. “No, that’s fine.” He barely even glanced at Jake, drumming his fingers on his leg impatiently.

“Yes!” cried Jake, pumping his fist in the air.

But Steve didn’t pay any attention to that. He was stuck on Ransom, whom he now realized had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole meeting. His posture was stiff, coiled tight, like he was waiting for something.

“Well. Okay, then. That means Ransom, you’ve got our last one. Sweet Pea.” Steve pulled up the last slide. A young woman stood in a gorgeous, expensive set of lingerie. Her posture was perfect, her eyes downcast. Her arms were relaxed next to her side. “She comes to us from an old money family of excellent standing. They’ve sent her here to ensure the best match she can possibly get.”

Ransom didn’t say anything, just nodded. But the expression on his face was that of a man who’d won something.

Steve turned off the screen and pushed a few final buttons on his tablet. “Alright, the complete files for each of your selections should now be in your inboxes. With that, I’ll let you all go. Let’s have a great term!”

Things broke up quickly. Everyone milling out, chatting amongst themselves, leaving the mess for the cleaning women who’d come after hours.

Steve caught Ransom before he could leave. “You knew she was enrolled this year.” It was a statement, not a question.

Ransom shrugged, smug. “Our grandfathers are friends. And her brother is such an asshole. Thought it might be fun to crush his beloved little sister and rub his face in it.”

“As long as you remember that we need to return her in one, marriageable piece.”

Ransom nodded. “I know what the goal is.” As he left the room, Steve made a mental note to keep an eye on that situation.

Ari was the last one left and strode over to Steve with an easy grin. “Good crop this year,” he said.

Steve nodded. “You’ve got a fun one.”

Ari smirked. “Yeah, you too. You’re excited. I can tell.”

“Well,” Steve smiled, “what’s the point of a job like this if we don’t get to have a little fun?”

Tag List

You make nothing of it, but then a few days later he gives you a kiss on the temple and praises how amazing you are when you're simply cleaning the kitchen while dinner is simmering on the stove.

You start feeling extra warmth and softness when he helps with house chores, somehow not noticing his help comes in forms of moving furniture (so you can vacuum or mop all the floor), or picking you up (so you can reach top cabinets and shelves), or doing shopping (so you have all the ingredients and cleaning supplies at hand).

The fact your cleaning and cooking is often interrupted with him holding you in bent position as he fills you with his cock, or with your leg over his shoulder as he eats you out until your legs shake, makes you excited to do more of those tasks.

He makes effort to plan lovely weekends together, so that you don't even mind missing company parties and trips.

When he picks you up from girls nights out he offers to drive your friends safely home, too, then takes care of you in a way that ensures you won't be much hungover and unable to function in the morning.

He even helps you make breakfast the next day and as you eat it - you perched in his lap and blushing a little when he feeds you bites - he subtly muses on maybe starting hosting parties at home. "It would be fun and you'd be so good at it."

Somehow, you start Pinterest boards with recipes, house cleaning hacks, dream houses, wedding plans.

He pays close attention, not hiding that he saved the few engagement rings photos you liked, because of course he wants to give his future wife what she dreams of ("No jewelry is too much to show how much I love you and appreciate what you do to make our house a special place").

He cares for your wellbeing, becoming enraged on your and other women's behalf about the terrible effects contraception has on a body. Your health is most important, so of course he encourages you to get off of it.

Last year you were making plans on how to tackle a promotion, but you don't care much about it now. Especially since you sneaked a peek at "Love's dream house" folder on his phone, where he saved actual listings for beautiful family houses. All far away from the city.

______________________

As the son of the Don and the future leader of the expansive criminal organization he had a cold blooded, merciless streak. When it came to running the business and keeping men in check. But he was also gentle and kind in the way he treated innocent people; intelligent and passionate in his curiosity for the various aspects of the world, history, art, and traditions.

He always treated you with respect, not once making a notion of hating your engagement. Moreover, he showed genuine interest in your endeavours; teased you with the hint of flirtation that made your heart flutter.

Whenever you were in the same place, he would act the role of a fiancé that left no room to doubt the strength of his commitment to you.

The fact he was the most handsome, sexy man you've ever seen made your fate all the sweeter and more exciting.

So no, being promised to a future Don wasn't a horror you tried to escape.

Quite the contrary, you slowly built your life towards that. Including forming strong bonds with his family. Every few weeks you would travel to his family house to spend a few days with his mother and siblings - cooking together amidst the joyful chaos of little nephews running around crazy, dancing on the stone patio as laughter bubbled, picking fruit from the orchard.

It was under the entwined crowns of cherry trees that your fiancé laid you down on the grass and kissed the sweetly tart juice off your lips, while his fingers brought you to your first not-self-acquired orgasm.

Over the years, as each of you grew into your true selves as well into the responsibilities you were supposed to carry, you shared many intimacies with him.

You'd give him your virginity, too, since it belonged to him anyway. But even as he wrecked you with his mouth to the point of making you shamelessly beg for his cock, he smiled that softly wicked grin and said "On the wedding night."

Many things could be said about him - that he was cunning, merciless, driven. The one trait they always repeated was honorable.

Not a single gossip of him fucking around, or even flirting with other women.

Which is why it struck you like a heavy punch when a beautiful stranger sat next to him on the bench at his family's house. Her face upturned to him, sunlike smile beaming and eyes glowing in passion.

Her body was angled in a way that betrayed the woman's need to be as close to him as possible. More, it appeared she sought his closeness for safety. As if he was a knight in a shining armour she's been looking for her entire life.

His mother greeted you with the same honest joy she always has, perhaps even livening up more now that you were here. His pregnant sister called out for you to come hug her, loudly expressing how she missed you and needed you to bake her sfogliatelle.

Your fiancé stood up, ever the gentleman, greeting you with a sweet kiss to the cheek. Seemingly the same as always, yet something felt detached.

Or maybe it was you who imagined the ground crumbling beneath your feet.

The woman was introduced; a sunshine, innocent tourist who was rescued from her misadventure by your fiancé. A meet cute that demanded development into a happily ever after fairytale.

Her story flowed with an absorbing combination of sparkling exhilaration that still hinted at the shadows of the past haunting her.

Enough of a broken fawn vulnerability that called to men's need to protect and provide.

Did it hook him as well? It appeared so, since he didn't help her organize a room in the city, but took her straight here. To his family home. The sanctuary that only a few were allowed to see and bask in.

Each passing hour punctured your heart as you watched her orbit near him. He would reply with a smile that you knew weakened knees and ambushed hearts - because it always did yours.

She'd laugh a beautiful, tinkling sound as your fiancé's mother taught her how to make pasta.

Keeping your face void of ache, you prepared the sfogliatelle, trying to focus on the task itself and the way your fiancé's sister was animatedly talking about the latest idiocy of her husband (which was the fact he brought her demanded nachos in the middle of the night, but three of them were crushed and he didn't take the crime of it as seriously as he should've).

Bea, sweet five year old niece, climbed your fiancé like a tree, wrapping both her tiny arms around his neck as she babbled at you: "I wan' my tonenails painted for grape stomping! Will you paint me? Mommy's belly's too big to reach."

"Toenails," you corrected gently, smiling at her with genuine affection. "Sure, I'll paint your nails. It's gonna be fun to have colorful toenails for the grape stomping."

A small tradition to start the wine processing season at the family's vineyard.

"Yaaay! Everyone paints nails!" The little girl screeched with glee. "Uncle too!"

You snorted at that, mouth curving in a grin as you looked up at him.

"We have to buy a black polish, then," you winked, for a moment forgetting there was a burst in your bubble and she was merely a few feet away.

"Locking me in a stereotype, Tesoro?" One of his brows arched, his eyes sparkling with potent mischief that licked high up your thigh. "What if I want bold red?"

"Nooo!" Bea protested, tapping his cheek with her tiny hand. "You can't be red. Red is for Donna."

Donna, a Don's wife. For little Bea it was you. For everyone it's been you for years. The sweet laugh close by whispered that it might change.

Later, as you all ate dinner at the huge oak table, you had trouble swallowing. You sat on his left, as always, but the lovely tourist sat on his right.

You wondered, if your fiancé's right hand man, who was currently dealing with something in the north, was present would he be sitting in her place and she sat further away. Or if it would be you who was pushed aside.

It wasn't fear of losing position that made your fingers shake as you patted yourself dry after shower. Though breaking off the engagement would cause a ripple through the ranks, disgracing your family and decreasing your own value as a bride for any other alliance.

It was the force of your own heartbreak echoing through every little bone in your body. Because you were in love with him.

A knock on the door of your bedroom was followed by immediate, unapologetic opening. Only one person in the house would walk in without waiting for an invitation.

Your hands clasped tightly the towel, covering your naked body from the eyes of a man who could claim his right to look at your nudity.

He walked over to you slowly, gaze intently sliding over your body. But he focused on your face when he reached you, making no move to touch you as if the whole day wasn't tainted with the presence of a woman who was clearly living out her romance fantasies with him in the main role.

Then he said a name. An old, almost forgotten last name that ringed some bells, but you needed a moment to follow the thread.

"She's staying in a room in the east wing. Until he returns." Were his next words.

And the puzzle started to snap into place.

Her last name was identical with the name of the old crime related dynasty that nearly three decades ago wiped out his best friend's family, leaving the boy an orphan who went on the run and found himself starving and bloodied on the turf belonging to your fiancé's family.

She might feel herself a lost soul, touring through the world in search of her place, but she crossed into the territory where her fate would be marked by the crimes of her own family.

Your fiancé wasn't entertaining the woman for his own gain, he was keeping her for his right hand man, his best friend to decide what to do. Playing a game which set up a trap for the fawn to fall into.

"Cruel," a part of you felt for the poor girl, even if you were still inwardly raging at her for intrusion.

"Yes." He was remorseless. "In our world there are vows we don't break. Like a blood vow to avenge one's family. And like a wedding vow."

He caressed your cheek with the back of his curled fingers, down to your chin which he tipped up with a single digit.

"Will you drop the towel for me and let me feast on your pussy? I've been missing you and your divine taste."

Your fingers twitched, eager to let go and splay yourself open for him. Yet you held still for a second longer, waging how quickly should you surrender.

Your fiancé lowered his head; his breath tickling your slightly parted lips.

"I vow to make you scream so loud, she hears you in the east wing."

_____________________

~ * ~

"Wider," Steve commands, tossing his shirt away.

You let out a whine, scrunching up your nose. You can't help it, this inner fight to obey (because you really want to get your brains fucked out) clashing with petulant need to do the opposite of what he says.

"Sweetheart," the pet name is soft, but it rolls in a stern warning on Steve's tongue, "if your thighs aren't wide open by the time my zipper is down, you will regret it."

His thumb flicks the button above his zipper out of the hole and with the prospect of Steve following with his threat, you instantly open your legs as wide as you can.

"Good girl," comes the praise.

"Now," Steve pushes his pants down, "gimme ten, like we talked."

Your fingers curl, nails digging into the soft skin of your thighs, as you whine in complaint.

"Eleven, then." Steve's eyes darken, a muscle in his jaw twitching in displeasure at your disobedience.

Another pitiful sound spills out of your lips, before you manage to hold it in. You don't want to rile Steve up, not when you're already in painful trouble. But you simply can't just slap your pussy, like he ordered, you can't make yourself do it.

"Twelve." Steve is merciless, his gaze pinning you down.

"If you get to fifteen, I will take over."

Your eyes widen and your hand momentarily lifts. Spanking yourself isn't pleasant - the sting, the humiliation of it; but it's more bearable than having Steve's large, heavy hand do it.

With a stifled cry, you slap your sensitive folds.

Your legs almost close, out on instinct, but you make sure to quickly spread them again. You spank yourself again and your back arches, feet kicking the mattress as the jolt of pain shots through your core, transforming into burning pleasure.

"You can go harder, sweetheart," Steve curls his fingers around his cock, stroking himself slowly as he drags his gaze from your cunt to your face. "Go on, make that pretty clit of yours join the party."

By the time you reach nine, your folds are swollen and slick, your clit a hardened peak already sore from the strikes that landed directly on it.

Sweat pearls along your body and tears wet your cheeks. It hurts, though you're unsure if it's the sting of the slap still vibrating in your abused folds, or if it's your empty pussy yearning to have something inside.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Steve coos, tilting his head to the side. "Need me to help you with the last few?"

You shake your head, trying to force your fingers to lift again. Before you're able to, however, Steve's catching your wrist gently. He pulls your hand aside as he kneels on the mattress.

"There, there," he rubs the inside of your thighs then forces your knees up to your chest.

"Hold yourself spread for me, baby." He makes you wrap your hands beneath your knees, leaving you defenseless and your tormented pussy on display for him.

"Steve, please!" You look at him, pleading for some kind of mercy; your walls clenching in thrill of what's going to come next.

Steve's hand comes down on your folds in a sharp strike, making you scream in high pitch.

The last two slaps land one after the other, in rapid succession. Your juices spill down your ass as your clit throbs.

"All that crying and yet you're a spank away from cumming," Steve mocks, teasing a finger between your puffy folds.

"Would you like that?" He asks, circling your sensitive peak. "Want me to make you come as I slap this sweet, slutty pussy of yours? I could let her rest for a bit, take my time wiping that pout off your lips with my cock. Then see how many strikes it takes to have you gushing."

"We need to take these off, Snowflake. They're wet." Steve slowly pulls your panties down your legs, tutting when you close your thighs.

"You made them wet," you pout, hiding your face in your hands.

"I simply wanted to help you relax before dinner. Good husbands do such nice things for their wives."

Steve drops your underwear to the floor then gently pushes your knees apart, exposing your glistening folds to his gaze. Just some kissing and few strokes of his fingers between your thighs and you were ready to take him.

Exactly how he trained you.

Sheltered from the world for so long, you had little knowledge about relationships (even less about sex), even though you were in your twenties. You lost your mom as a kid and your father kept you under lock like a princess in a tower, saying bad men who wanted to hurt him, would try hurting you too.

Until the day he introduced you to Steve, marking him as your future husband.

If at first you sensed that your father was scared of Steve, you quickly dismissed it as impossible. Steve was so very well mannered, charming and attentive.

He made you feel safe, if a little nervous.

You saw some men working for your father lose their temper, but Steve was so patient as he introduced you to wifely duties.

He kissed and cradled you as you cried a little when he took your virginity. Rewarded you every time you did something that pleased him.

And when you got wet and squirmy, he praised you, because that's how a good wife should be. Always wet for her husband.

"I'll wear a clean pair," you mumble, embarrassed.

"Hmm, no. No, I think you should wear nothing beneath your dress." Steve's thumbs brushed the outside of your folds.

"Steve!" You gasp, feeling heat rise to your chest and face at the thought of serving the guests with a naked bottom under the skirt.

"You're still wet, Snowflake. You'll just ruin another pair of panties," he reprimands you.

Standing up, Steve reaches his hand out for you to take, helping you up on your feet.

Recently, eating you out has become a staple in his daily routine. Not that he shied away from it earlier, but he turned obsessed. Like a human often got temporarily addicted to a certain meal or treat, gorging on it day after day for weeks. Though, you suspected, Ari might never lose the taste for it. Not for the foreseeable few months, at least.

“You taste so much sweeter now that my seed has taken root.” He had groaned earlier, forcing you to sit on his face. 

The position alone was one that made you feel like flames of embarrassment would burn you alive from the depravity of it, but at least this time he had you facing toward the headboard. You only got to see the mane of his dark gold hair spilled over the crumbled sheets and the wide curve of his horns pressed against the inner side of your thighs. 

It was so dirty to grab onto his horns for support as Ari’s arms locked around your thighs and held you down. He licked into you more feverishly, moaning his own pleasure, when your fingers gripped them.

But if you didn’t do it, choosing instead to claw at the wall or the headboard, Ari would yank on the golden chain linking the piercings in your nipples, making you cry out and gush onto his waiting tongue. 

Still, you preferred that position than when he made you ride his face but turned toward his massive, monstrous body. 

Because seeing him shamelessly splayed, with his huge cock bouncing hard against his belly, made you leak - both from cunt and your mouth. And that filled you with horror at your own body’s lewd response. 

But you couldn’t stop staring at that thick cock, at the pearls of white adorning the crown and spilling slowly the more of his taste he swallowed. 

So really, you preferred the flecks of gold on the wall, and the bursts of light beneath your eyelids, that allowed you to ignore the truth - that you became the minotaur’s cockhungry breeder. 

“N-no,” you whimpered out, your heavy breathing swallowing most of the forming sound. 

It was a protest not only against Ari’s ongoing onslaught, but your own thoughts reminding you of what you’ve become. 

Then one of his arms sneaked further, spreading his thick fingers over the barely prominent yet curve of your belly. It was a possessive gesture. A triumph of a victor who had taken his spoils and ruined you exactly the way he planned. But it was also a prelude to a torment Ari drew out of your body once or twice previously.

He pressed lower with his palm, at the same time flicking his tongue against your swollen clit faster and faster. 

“No! I don’t want-” You bucked against his face wildly.

Ari paused for a moment, but you knew better than to expect mercy. He tilted his head to look up at you from between your thighs; the movement made his bearded chin graze your sensitive folds, keeping the stimulation. 

He pulled on the chain that was weaved around his wrist, tugging on the piercing in your hardened nipples and making you moan at the jolt of pleasant pain. 

“You’re going to squirt for me, Poppy,” he announced with a tone of a victor who always got what he wanted. 

“Matter of fact-” he unwrapped one of his arms from around your thigh to slide his palm over your ass and push your hips upward- “you’re going to squirt not only on my tongue, but all over my face. Shower me in it.” 

Your fingers clenched around his horns, body curling down as you tried to ease the strain the chain pulled on your nipples. You shook your head in objection. 

Ari didn’t argue with you. He pressed on your lower abdomen while thrusting two of his thick fingers into your dripping cunt and curling them against a spot that had you crying out obscenely. His thumb resumed the torture on your clit, replacing his tongue. 

Which, in turn, he stuck out, eagerly catching each drop of your arousal. 

“Come, little wife.” Ari grunted, pushing harder. “You always give me what I want, anyway. Gave me your cunt. Accepted piercings. Choked and fainted on my cock. Took my seed. You’ll squirt for me, too.”

You couldn’t help the moans that grew louder, pitched higher. Nor the way your hips pushed back onto his fingers, even though your thighs burned from effort. 

Ari was right, you were going to come for him. You were going to embarrass yourself with perverse pleasure and squirt all over his face. 

“That’s it, Poppy. Give it to me. Give it to your monster husband.” He urged. “It’s nothing, really. You’ll give me so much more in the future. More of your orgasms. More of your cries. All of your holes. More babies. Sweet milk leaking from your breasts.”

You wanted to scream at him to stop saying all those filthy things, because each was bringing you closer to the edge, turning you madder. Needier. You thought your minotaur had defiled you thoroughly when he took you that very first night, but each time he took you he proved there was no end to the desecration.