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gmikaelson · 1 month ago

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Took a lil break to focus on my other blog (@ghstyles), but I've missed my other husband, so I'm back

My Lady | K.M

["Come on, darling," he coaxed, ignoring Klaus entirely. "Wouldn't you rather have some fun company? Nik here is such a brooding bore when he travels. All 'look at this building I destroyed in 1492' and 'here's where I disemboweled a rival in the 17th century.'"]

Contains Smut (jump to the next asterisk if you'd like to skip)

Masterlist

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"Klaus!" you whined, arm flung across your forehead in theatrical distress. "I'm literally dying!"

Klaus strolled into the courtyard, finding you dramatically sprawled upside down on a chaise lounge, your hair cascading toward the floor, and your face flushed from the oppressive New Orleans summer heat. The courtyard offered little relief from the humidity that hung in the air like a wet blanket.

His lips quirked upward at the sight of you. Even in your disheveled state, or perhaps especially because of it, you were captivating. Your eyes found his as he approached, and you pointed accusingly at him.

"How are you wearing a Henley right now? It's like a thousand degrees!" You gesture wildly at his typical dark clothing, which showed no signs of being affected by the heat.

Klaus chuckled, crouching beside the chaise to be at eye level with your upside-down face, his amusement evident in his eyes.

"One of the perks of being the most powerful creature on earth, love," he teased, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your flushed cheek. "The weather doesn't bother me."

You groaned, rolling your eyes dramatically.

"Show off," you muttered. "I'm melting, and you're just...comfortable. It's not fair."

Klaus tilted his head, studying you with predatory interest that had nothing to do with blood and everything to do with how your thin summer dress clung to your curves, damp with perspiration.

"I could always turn you," he suggested silkily, though he knew your answer. It was a conversation you'd had many times. "Then you'd never have to suffer through another heatwave."

You shot him a look, somehow managing to appear formidable despite your ridiculous position.

"Nice try. I'd rather melt than become a vampire," you retorted stubbornly. "Now be useful and fan me or something."

Klaus laughed outright at your demanding tone, a sound few in New Orleans ever heard from the feared hybrid.

"Always so demanding," he mused, standing up and moving to sit at the end of the chaise. "I've killed men for less, you know."

Despite his words, he lifted your legs and settled them across his lap, his supernaturally cool hands providing immediate relief against your overheated skin.

"Mmm, that helps," you sighed, some of the tension leaving your body. "Maybe you are good for something after all."

Klaus scoffed, his eyebrows shooting up in an exaggerated expression of offense as he placed a hand over his heart.

"Good for something?" he repeated, his British accent more pronounced in his mock outrage. "I'm wounded, love. Truly devastated."

Despite his theatrical affront, his cool fingers continued to trace patterns on your calves, providing relief from the oppressive heat. His blue-green eyes glittered with amusement.

"Here I am, a thousand-year-old Original hybrid, feared across continents, and I've been reduced to a personal cooling system for a stubborn human." He shook his head in feigned dismay, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "What would my enemies say if they could see the great Klaus Mikaelson now?"

You grinned up at him, finally righting yourself on the chaise lounge though you kept your legs draped across his lap. Your hair was a tousled mess, and beads of sweat still glistened on your neck.

"They'd say you've gone soft," you teased, poking his chest with your toe playfully. "The big bad wolf, tamed by a human girl."

You leaned in closer, the mischief in your eyes matching his own.

"But don't worry, your secret's safe with me. I won't tell anyone you're actually sweet underneath all that...murdery exterior."

Klaus captured your foot as you poked him again, bringing it to his lips in a gesture that was both gallant and possessive.

"Careful, sweetheart," he warned, though his eyes still danced with humor. "I have a reputation to maintain. And I'm not above proving just how 'murdery' I can be to anyone who crosses me."

He pulled you closer across his lap, his free hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, his touch a delicious contrast of cool against your overheated skin.

"Or perhaps I'll demonstrate other skills entirely," he murmured, his voice dropping to a seductive timbre as he leaned in, your lips almost touching. "I can think of several ways to make you forget about the heat."

You raise a brow, "Absolutely not," leaning back and flopping back against the chaise, "too hot for that."

Klaus let out a short, surprised laugh at your blunt rejection, not used to being denied anything he wanted, especially in this department. His eyebrows rose as he watched you dramatically flop back against the chaise, your arms spread wide in surrender to the heat.

"Too hot?" he repeated, sounding both amused and slightly incredulous. "That's a first. I don't believe anyone has ever refused my advances due to the weather."

He leaned back slightly, studying your flushed face with a glint in his eyes that suggested he wasn't entirely deterred.

"Though I must say, love, the sight of you all...glistening..." his gaze traveled appreciatively over your body, lingering on where your thin dress clung to your skin "...is making it rather difficult to respect your climate-based abstinence."

You roll your eyes at him, though a smile tugs at your lips despite the discomfort.

"Your ego will survive the blow," you retorted dryly. "And stop looking at me like that. I'm serious, Klaus. It's too hot to even think about...that."

You fan yourself with your hand for emphasis, eyes narrowed at him in warning, though there was no real heat behind it. You drape your arm over your face.

Klaus sighed dramatically, but his hands remained cool against your legs, providing some relief.

"Very well," he conceded with exaggerated magnanimity. "Though I'm certain I could change your mind..."

He trailed off suggestively before shifting gears, his expression becoming more contemplative.

"Perhaps we should leave New Orleans for a while," he suggested, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your ankle. "I have properties all over the world. We could go somewhere cooler. London is quite pleasant this time of year. Or perhaps a villa in the Swiss Alps?"

The casual way he suggested international travel, as if they might pop over to another continent the way most people would go to the corner store, was so quintessentially Klaus.

You peek at him from under your arm, "Seriously? What about everything you have to do here? You can’t just...leave"

Klaus gave you a look that was equal parts amused and arrogant, his lips curving into that signature smirk that had both charmed and terrified people for centuries.

"Can't I?" he challenged softly, his tone suggesting that the normal rules and limitations simply didn't apply to him. "I'm Klaus Mikaelson, love. I do as I please."

He shifted on the chaise, turning more fully toward you while keeping your legs draped across his lap. His cool fingers continued their soothing patterns against your overheated skin.

"New Orleans has survived without me before. It will manage for a few weeks," he continued, his blue-green eyes gleaming with sudden enthusiasm for the idea. "Elijah can handle any pressing matters. And frankly, the city could use a break from my...particular brand of leadership."

He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

You studied him from beneath your arm, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. It was these glimpses of the man beneath the monster that had drawn you to him in the first place, the moments when his passion wasn't directed at vengeance or power, but at beauty and experience.

"You're serious," you said, slowly sitting up despite the heat, your eyes searching his face. "You would really just...drop everything and go?"

Klaus reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his touch gentler than most would believe him capable of.

"For you? Yes." The simple answer held an unexpected weight, a reminder of how much he had changed since you'd entered his life. "Though I must admit, the thought of you in a bikini on a private beach is certainly an added incentive."

He grinned wickedly, the tender moment giving way to his more typical roguish charm.

You shove his shoulder, "of course it is," but can't help the giggle that escapes you.

"I heard Y/N and bikini. I’m in. Where are we headed?" Kol says, strolling into the courtyard.

Klaus's expression darkened instantly at Kol's intrusion, his playful demeanor with you vanishing like smoke. He turned his head slowly toward his younger brother, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"We are not headed anywhere," he corrected, emphasizing the 'we' with a threatening edge to his voice. "Y/N and I were discussing a private getaway."

Kol sauntered further into the courtyard, completely unfazed by his brother's obvious displeasure. He flashed a charming, mischievous smile at you before dropping dramatically onto a nearby chair, sprawling with casual grace.

"Private's boring," he countered, his own accent lilting with amusement. "Besides, I'm excellent company. Ask anyone."

You couldn't help but laugh at the immediate tension between the brothers, though you remained comfortably draped across Klaus's lap, one of his hands still possessively on your leg.

"I don't think your brother shares that assessment," you observed dryly, glancing at Klaus's thunderous expression.

Kol leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with the particular brand of chaos he so enjoyed creating, especially at his brother's expense.

"Come on, darling," he coaxed, ignoring Klaus entirely. "Wouldn't you rather have some fun company? Nik here is such a brooding bore when he travels. All 'look at this building I destroyed in 1492' and 'here's where I disemboweled a rival in the 17th century.'"

His impression of Klaus was deliberately terrible, designed specifically to irritate his brother.

Klaus's jaw tightened, his grip on your leg firming slightly.

"Kol," he said, his voice deceptively soft, a sure warning sign to those who knew him well, "don't you have somewhere else to be? Preferably far from here?"

Kol grinned wider, clearly enjoying getting under his brother's skin.

"Not really, no. My schedule's wide open." He winked at you. "So, where are we thinking? Somewhere with beaches, I hope. I'd love to see what kind of swimwear our Y/N favors."

At this, Klaus's patience visibly snapped. He moved with supernatural speed, suddenly standing over Kol with a hand around his throat.

"Choose your next words very carefully, brother," he growled, his hybrid nature flickering beneath the surface of his control.

You sighed, used to the Mikaelson siblings' dramatic confrontations, and pushed yourself up from the chaise despite the heat.

"Boys," you admonished, sounding more like a tired parent than a girlfriend, "can we not do this today? It's too hot for Mikaelson drama."

Rebekah makes an appearance from one of the balconies, "Do snap his neck, Nik. He pissed me off today"

You turn, glaring at the blonde Mikaelson.

Klaus's grip on Kol's throat tightened momentarily, a smirk crossing his face at Rebekah's encouragement. His eyes never left his younger brother's face, though Kol still managed to look amused despite the precarious position.

"See, Rebekah agrees with me," Klaus said silkily, the dangerous edge in his voice unmistakable.

Rebekah leaned over the balcony railing, her blonde hair cascading down as she observed the scene below with casual interest, as if her brothers threatening to kill each other was merely everyday entertainment, which in the Mikaelson household, it essentially was.

"He used my favorite lipstick to write obscenities on my mirror," she explained to you, her British accent clipped with annoyance. "Chanel, limited edition. Snap away, Nik."

"Rebekah! No," you exclaimed, fixing the Original sister with a stern look before turning to Klaus. "And you! Let him go. I'm not spending another week listening to you all plot revenge because you daggered him again."

You place a hand on Klaus's arm, your touch gentle but firm. "Klaus."

For a tense moment, it seemed he might ignore you, his fingers still wrapped around his brother's throat. Then, with visible reluctance, he released Kol with a small shove.

"Consider yourself fortunate that Y/N has more patience for your antics than I do," he warned, stepping back to stand beside you, his arm possessively circling your waist.

Kol rubbed his throat dramatically, though they all knew it would take far more than that to cause him any real discomfort.

"Always hiding behind your girlfriend's skirts, Nik?" he taunted, unable to resist pushing further. "How the mighty have fallen."

Rebekah rolled her eyes, pushing away from the balcony railing.

"If you're not going to kill him, at least tell me where you're planning to go," she called down. "I might join you. This city is dreadfully dull at the moment, and the heat is ruining my hair."

You look between the three Original siblings, a mix of exasperation and fondness on your face.

"So much for our private getaway," you murmured to Klaus, leaning into him despite the heat. "I think our couples vacation package just got upgraded to include all the homicidal Mikaelsons."

Klaus looked down at you, his irritation with his siblings momentarily forgotten as he took in your resigned amusement.

"I could still kill them both," he offered helpfully, though there was a glint of humor in his eyes now. "Problem solved."

"No," you say firmly, "just...how about we all just go to the beach instead? Is there even a beach around?"

Klaus looked at you with an expression of mild betrayal, clearly not thrilled at the prospect of his romantic getaway transforming into a family outing.

"There's Grand Isle," he conceded reluctantly, his thumb absently stroking your waist where he still held you. "About a 2-hour drive south. Though I was thinking more along the lines of a private island in the Caribbean, not some local stretch of sand crowded with tourists."

Kol clapped his hands together with exaggerated enthusiasm, bouncing up from his seat.

"Grand Isle it is! I'll go pack the alcohol," he declared, clearly delighted at having successfully inserted himself into your plans. "We'll need lots of it to make this family bonding tolerable."

Rebekah disappeared from the balcony, only to reappear moments later in the courtyard, already looking more excited than she had in weeks.

"I have a new bikini I've been dying to wear," she announced, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Elijah will hate this plan, which makes it even better."

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Elijah appeared in the doorway, impeccably dressed in a full suit despite the heat, not a drop of sweat visible on his composed face.

"I'll hate what plan?" he inquired, his voice measured and elegant as always.

Before Klaus could intervene, Kol jumped in with gleeful mischief.

"Family beach trip, brother! Sun, sand, and siblings. What could possibly go wrong?"

Elijah's expression remained impassive, but a slight tightening around his eyes suggested he was already calculating the potential disasters.

"Indeed," he replied dryly. "Given our family history, I imagine quite a lot."

Klaus looked down at you, shaking his head slightly.

"You see what you've started?" he murmured, though there was more resignation than genuine anger in his tone. "Now we'll have the whole circus with us."

You stood on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his cheek, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

"It'll be fun," you whisper back. "Besides, this way they can't destroy the compound while we're gone."

Klaus sighed dramatically, but his arm remained firmly around your waist.

"You have a strange definition of 'fun,' love," he commented, watching as his siblings began debating the logistics with increasing animation. "The last time all of us were at a beach together was 1702, and it ended with a small village being burned to the ground."

Rebekah waved a dismissive hand.

"That was Kol's fault, and they were witch hunters anyway," she pointed out breezily. "Besides, Y/N will keep you all in line. She's the only one with any sense around here."

Elijah checked his watch, somehow managing to look both resigned and dignified.

"If we're to undertake this...excursion...I suggest we leave early tomorrow to avoid the worst of the traffic," he said, already bringing order to the chaos as was his nature.

Klaus looked at you with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.

"Still certain about this, sweetheart?" he asked quietly. "It's not too late to slip away, just the two of us. I'm quite skilled at disappearing."

Your smile fades, sensing the tension in his tone. Suddenly, the feeling of guilt starts to creep in. “I’m sorry, did I overstep? I didn’t mean to”

Klaus's expression softened immediately at your sudden concern, the irritation in his eyes giving way to something softer. He reached up to cup your face with one hand, his thumb brushing your cheekbone.

"No, love," he assured you quietly. His voice pitched low enough that even his siblings' supernatural hearing would have to strain to catch his words. "You didn't overstep."

He glanced at his siblings, who were now engaged in an animated debate about transportation arrangements, before returning his gaze to your worried face.

"I just...I wanted some time alone with you," he admitted, a rare vulnerability flickering across his features. "Away from all this chaos and plotting and New Orleans politics. Just us."

The admission seemed to cost him something; Klaus Mikaelson wasn't accustomed to expressing such straightforward desires, especially not in a way that might be perceived as weakness.

Your guilt visibly deepened, your eyes clouding with regret as you placed your hand over his where it rested on your cheek.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I didn't think. We can still go away, just us. I'll tell them I changed my mind."

Klaus studied your face for a moment, then shook his head with a small, genuine smile that few besides you have ever witnessed.

"No," he decided, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "You were right to include them. They're...family." The statement still sounded somewhat foreign on his tongue after centuries of betrayal and daggerings. "And they're your family now, too, God help you."

He leaned in to press his forehead against yours, his next words meant only for you.

"Besides, I've waited a thousand years to find you. I can survive sharing you with my insufferable siblings for a weekend." His lips quirked upward. "Though I make no promises about Kol's continued existence if he makes one more comment about you in swimwear."

Your smile returned, relief washing over your features as you wrapped your arms around his neck, uncaring of the heat or his siblings' presence.

"Thank you," you say softly. "And I promise we'll take that trip, just us. Anywhere you want to go."

Klaus's arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer despite the summer heat.

"I'll hold you to that, love," he murmured against your ear. "I have quite a list of places I want to show you. And things I want to do to you in those places."

His suggestive tone made you blush, which only widened his smile.

Kol's deliberately loud voice interrupted the moment.

"If you two are quite finished being disgustingly sweet, we need to know if we're taking one car or two tomorrow. Personally, I vote for separate vehicles. The thought of being trapped in a car with Nik for two hours while he glowers is less than appealing."

Klaus rolled his eyes but kept his arms around you.

"Two cars," he called back without looking away from you. "I'm not subjecting Y/N to your incessant chatter for the entire drive."

Rebekah snorted elegantly.

"As if your brooding silence is any better," she retorted, before turning to you with a conspiratorial smile. "Come on, Y/N. Let's go plan what to pack. You'll need something spectacular to make my brother properly regret taking you to a mere local beach instead of his pretentious private island."

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By the time you finally made it back to your room, the sun had long dipped below the horizon, and your limbs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each. Your feet hurt, and you were about three outfit changes away from a full mental breakdown. Rebekah had run you through what felt like a full fashion week

Klaus looked up from the grimoire he'd been studying, his lips curving into an amused smile at your dramatic entrance. He was lounging on the bed, already changed into comfortable pants, his chest bare in concession to the persistent heat, which didn’t actually bother him.

You flopped face-first onto the mattress beside him with an exaggerated groan, your hair splaying across the pillows. You didn't even bother to remove your clothes or shoes, you simply lay there like a woman who had survived some great ordeal.

"Rebekah's made me try on so many things," you mumble into the bedding, your voice muffled. "I think I've worn more clothes in the last three hours than in my entire life."

Klaus chuckled, setting aside the ancient spell book and shifting to gently remove your shoes, one at a time.

"You've discovered one of my sister's most fearsome qualities," he commented, his fingers massaging your feet briefly after freeing them. "Her shopping stamina is truly supernatural. Even I find it exhausting, and I've endured torture sessions that were less grueling."

You turn your head to the side, just enough to peer at him with one tired eye.

"She made me try on fourteen swimsuits," you informed him gravely. "Fourteen. And then she decided the first one was best anyway."

Klaus laughed outright at that, the sound warm and genuine in a way that few outside this room ever heard.

"That sounds like Rebekah," he agreed, his hands moving to your shoulders, beginning to knead the tension there with just the right amount of pressure. "Though I must admit, I'm looking forward to seeing the results of her tyranny."

His voice dropped lower, taking on that seductive quality that never failed to send a shiver down your spine, even in your exhausted state.

"Perhaps you'd care to model the winner for me now? Give me a private showing?"

You groan again, this time in response to his magical fingers working the knots from your shoulders.

"Not a chance," you mutter, though there is a smile in your voice. "I'm saving it for tomorrow. Besides, I think if I change clothes one more time today, I might actually die."

You finally summoned the energy to roll onto your back, looking up at him with tired but affectionate eyes.

"Your sister is intense," you say, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "She's convinced I need to, and I quote, 'make your jaw drop' when you see me at the beach."

Klaus caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your palm, his blue-green eyes darkening slightly.

"My jaw drops every time I see you, love," he murmured against your skin. "Though I admit I'm intrigued by whatever Rebekah has planned."

He leaned down, his lips hovering just above yours.

"Should I be worried about having to murder every man on the beach tomorrow?" he asked, only half-joking. "Because I will, you know. Without hesitation."

You smile, “Please don’t kill anyone for me,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck

Klaus smirked against your lips, his weight shifting to hover over you more fully, supported on his forearms.

"No promises, love," he murmured, the possessive glint in his blue-green eyes making it clear he wasn't entirely joking. "A millennium of habits isn't easily broken."

His lips finally met yours in a gentle kiss that quickly deepened, his hand sliding beneath your shirt to caress the warm skin of your waist. Despite your exhaustion, you respond eagerly, your arms tightening around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Besides," he continued between kisses, trailing his lips along your jaw and down to the sensitive spot just below your ear, "you can't expect me to behave when every man on that beach will be staring at what's mine."

The possessive words should have irritated your independent nature, but coming from Klaus, whispered against your skin in that lilting accent, they sent a shiver of desire through you instead.

"I thought you'd be used to it by now," you teased breathlessly, your fingers threading through his dirty-blonde curls. "People stare at me whenever we go out."

Klaus pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own darkened with desire and something deeper, more vulnerable.

"I'll never be 'used to it,'" he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "Just as I'll never be used to the fact that you chose me, knowing exactly what I am."

The rare moment of openness caught you off guard, and your teasing smile softened into something more tender. You cup his face between your palms, eyes meeting his directly.

"I'll always choose you," you whisper, the simple truth of it reflected in your gaze. "Even when you're being a possessive, paranoid, infuriating pain in my ass."

Klaus laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest where it pressed against yours.

"Such romantic declarations," he teased, nipping at your lower lip. "You do know how to make a man feel special, sweetheart."

His hand slid higher beneath your shirt, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast as he kissed you again, more deeply this time, swallowing your soft gasp of pleasure.

"Now," he murmured against your mouth, his voice dropping to that seductive timbre that made your body respond immediately, "I believe you mentioned being exhausted from changing clothes so many times..."

His lips traced a burning path down your neck as his clever fingers began working on the buttons of your shirt.

"Allow me to help you out of these," he suggested, his smirk evident in his voice even as his mouth continued its delicious assault on your sensitive skin. "After all, I wouldn't want you to overexert yourself."

You lift your head to look at him, “Yeah? I am still hot, so I think taking these off is a great idea.”

Klaus's eyes darkened at your agreement, a predatory smile spreading across his face as he sat back on his heels, straddling your thighs. His hands moved to the buttons of your shirt with deliberate slowness, unfastening each one with tantalizing precision.

"You are indeed hot," he agreed, his voice dropping to that rough velvet tone that never failed to make your pulse quicken. "In every sense of the word."

As he parted your shirt, revealing the lace of your bra underneath, his gaze traveled over your exposed skin with open hunger. Despite the countless times he'd seen your body, his reaction was always the same, as if each time was the first, and each revelation of your skin was a gift he hadn't expected.

"Beautiful," he murmured, helping you sit up just enough to slide the shirt from your shoulders before easing you back down.

His hands skimmed down your sides to the waistband of your shorts, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake despite the lingering heat of the day. With practiced ease, he unfastened them and began sliding them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Better?" he asked, tossing the shorts aside and running his palms up your bare thighs. "Though I must say, you're still overdressed by my standards."

Your breath hitches as his fingers trace the edge of your underwear, your body already responding to his touch despite your earlier exhaustion. The heat that had been oppressive all day transformed into something entirely different under his skilled hands, a heat that came from within, that made you arch toward him rather than pull away.

"Your standards are impossible," you managed to reply, your voice already husky with desire. "You'd have me naked all the time if you could."

Klaus chuckled, the sound dark and promising as he unhooked your bra with a flick of his fingers, drawing it slowly down your arms.

"Can you blame me?" he asked, his gaze appreciative as he took in your bare breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples and drawing a soft moan from your lips. "When you're the most exquisite thing I've seen in a thousand years?"

He lowered his head to replace his fingers with his mouth, his tongue circling one sensitive peak before taking it between his lips. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as your hands tangled in his hair, holding him to you.

Klaus took his time, lavishing attention on each breast until you were squirming beneath him, your earlier fatigue completely forgotten. Only then did his mouth begin a downward journey, trailing kisses across your ribs, your stomach, and the jut of your hip bones.

His fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear, drawing them down with deliberate slowness as he looked up at you from beneath his lashes, his blue-green eyes nearly black with desire.

"Now you're properly dressed," he murmured approvingly as he tossed the last piece of fabric aside, leaving you completely bare beneath him. "Or undressed, as the case may be."

You instinctively brought your thighs together, "stop," you say softly, blushing, looking at me like that.

Klaus's lips curved into a knowing smile as he placed his hands gently on your knees, not forcing them apart but simply resting there, his thumbs tracing small circles on your skin.

"Like what, love?" he asked, his voice a seductive rumble as he held your gaze. "Like you're the most magnificent thing I've ever seen? Like I want to worship every inch of your body until you're trembling and crying my name?"

He leaned forward, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your inner knee, his eyes never leaving your flushed face.

"I'm afraid I can't stop," he continued, his accent thickening with desire. "Not when you're laid out before me like this. Blushing so beautifully for me."

His hands slid up slightly, applying the gentlest pressure to your thighs, a request rather than a demand.

"Let me see you, Y/N," he murmured, his tone softening to something almost reverent. "All of you."

The way he said your name, like it was something precious on his tongue, sent a shiver down your body. Despite your instinctive shyness, you found yourself responding to the gentle coaxing of his hands, your thighs slowly parting for him.

Klaus's breath caught audibly at the sight of you exposed to him, his eyes darkening further as they took in every detail. There was something almost worshipful in his expression, a stark contrast to the ruthless hybrid who terrorized New Orleans.

"Perfect," he whispered, his hands sliding further up your thighs, his thumbs now dangerously close to where you were already wet for him. "Do you have any idea what you do to me, sweetheart? How you make me feel?"

He moved up your body to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his bare chest pressing against your breasts, creating a delicious friction that made you gasp into his mouth. One of his hands tangled in your hair while the other continued its teasing journey between your thighs, never quite touching where you most wanted him.

"Even after all this time," he murmured against your lips, "I still can't believe you're mine."

His fingers finally slid through your folds, finding you slick and ready for him. He groaned at the discovery, his forehead resting against your as he began to circle your clit with exquisite precision.

"So wet for me already," he praised, his voice rough with need. "Is this what you needed, love? My hands on you? My mouth?"

His lips trailed down your neck as his fingers continued their skilled assault, drawing soft moans from your throat as your hips began to move against his hand, seeking more.

"I always need you," you exhale, arching into his hand. "Klaus," you continued, whispering his name.

Klaus growled low in his throat at your words, the sound more beast than man as he captured your lips in a fierce, consuming kiss. His fingers worked more deliberately between your thighs, circling your clit before sliding lower to tease your entrance.

"Say it again," he commanded against your mouth, his voice rough with desire. "My name on your lips is the sweetest sound in this world."

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as pleasure built within you, making you arch more insistently against his skilled touch.

"Klaus," you gasp, head falling back as he slides one finger inside you, then another, curling them to hit that perfect spot that made you want to cry out "God, Klaus, please..."

your plea broke off into a moan as he lowered his head to take one nipple between his lips, sucking hard as his fingers continued their relentless rhythm inside of you. Your body responded eagerly to his every touch, your hips moving in counterpoint to the thrust of his hand.

"Please what, love?" he teased, lifting his head to watch your face contort with pleasure. "Tell me what you need."

Your eyes, dark and heavy-lidded with desire, met his as your hands moved to fumble with the waistband of his pants.

"You," you managed, your voice breathy and urgent. "Inside me. Now."

Klaus's control visibly frayed at the demand, his eyes flashing gold for a brief moment before returning to their stormy blue-green. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste you with a groan of appreciation that sent another wave of desire through your body.

"As my lady commands," he murmured, quickly divesting himself of his remaining clothing with supernatural speed.

He settled between your thighs, the hard length of him pressing against your entrance as he braced himself above you on his forearms. For a moment, he simply looked down at you, his expression a complex mixture of desire, possessiveness, and something deeper that he rarely allowed himself to name.

"Mine," he whispered, the single word containing a thousand years of loneliness and the wonder of having finally found someone who accepted all of him, monster and man alike.

You reach up to cup his face, your thumbs stroking his cheekbones with tender affection even as your body arched impatiently beneath his.

"Yours," you agreed softly, the simple truth reflected in your eyes. "Always yours."

Klaus finally pushed forward, entering you in one smooth thrust that had you both gasping. He stilled for a moment, buried to the hilt inside of you, his forehead pressed against yours as you shared breath.

"And I am yours," he admitted in a rare moment of vulnerability, the words barely audible even to you. "Completely."

Before you could respond, he began to move, setting a rhythm that was neither gentle nor rough but perfectly calibrated to drive you toward the edge. Each thrust was deliberate, hitting exactly where you needed him most, his centuries of experience evident in the way he read your body's responses.

"Klaus," you moaned, your legs wrapping around his waist to draw him deeper, your hands clutching at his back as the pleasure built within. "God, yes, right there..."

He increased his pace in response to your encouragement, one hand sliding between your bodies to circle your clit as he drove into you with increasing urgency. His lips found your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there, careful not to break the surface despite the vampire instincts that urged him to taste you.

"Come for me, love," he commanded, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release until you found yours. "Let me feel you come around my cock."

The crude words combined with his skilled touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name as your body convulsed around him, waves of pleasure washing through you with an intensity that left you breathless and trembling in his arms.

Klaus grinned in triumph as he felt your inner walls pulsing around him, his control finally snapping. His thrusts became harder, more erratic as he chased his own release, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he murmured a stream of praise and possession against your skin.

"So perfect, so beautiful, mine, all mine," he groaned, his body tensing above you as he finally found his release, spilling deep inside you.

For several moments afterward, you remained entwined, both breathing heavily as you came down from your shared high. Klaus eventually rolled to his side, taking you with him so you lay cradled against his chest, his arms wrapped possessively around you.

"Still hot?" he asked, a hint of smugness in his voice as he pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your cooling skin.

You snort softly at his smug question, your body still tingling pleasantly from your lovemaking. You pressed closer to him despite the lingering heat, your fingertips tracing the tattoo on his shoulder.

"Definitely," you admit, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "But I like this kind of hot. Quite a lot actually."

You lean in to press a soft kiss to his chest, right over his heart, feeling it beat steadily beneath your lips. Klaus hummed contentedly, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration of your skin, tracing the curve of your spine with feather-light touches.

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by your gradually steadying breaths. Your mind wanders as you lie in his arms, thinking about the moments during your passion when you’d felt his lips at your neck, the careful restraint he always showed despite his nature. You’d noticed how he'd pulled back, even in the height of pleasure, maintaining that careful control he always exercised around you.

You lifted your head to look at him, eyes serious as they met his.

"Klaus, you know you can drink from me, right?" You say quietly, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. "I trust you. Completely."

Klaus went very still beneath your touch, his eyes widening slightly at your unexpected words. Something flashed across his face, hunger, desire, fear, before he carefully schooled his expression.

"That's...not a good idea, love," he replied, his voice rougher than usual, betraying the effect your offer had on him. "You don't know what you're asking."

You push yourself up on one elbow, looking down at him with determination in your gaze.

"I know exactly what I'm asking," you countered firmly. "I've seen you feed. I know what you are, Klaus. I've always known."

His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking there as he struggled with the offer and his own desires.

"It's different with you," he finally said, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face with surprising tenderness. "I don't want you to see that side of me. Not in our bed."

You lean into his touch, your expression softening but remaining resolute.

"It's part of who you are," you said simply. "And I love who you are. All of you."

Klaus's eyes darkened at your words, a complex mixture of emotions swirling in their blue-green depths. His thumb traced the pulse point at your throat, lingering there as if he could already taste you.

"You don't fear it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "What I might do? That I might lose control?"

You shook your head, your hair brushing against his hand.

"You've never lost control with me," you reminded him, your faith in him absolute and unwavering. "Not once in all our time together. I trust you, Klaus. With my life. With everything."

Something in him seemed to crumble at your words, not his control, but rather the wall he'd built between these two parts of himself. He pulled you down to him, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, his hands framing your face as if you were infinitely precious.

"If I hurt you," he murmured against your mouth, "if I take too much..."

"You won't," you interrupted with complete certainty, your fingers threading through his hair as you held his gaze. "I know you won't."

Klaus studied your face for a long moment, searching for any sign of doubt or fear. Finding none, he gently guided you to lie beside him, positioning you so that your back was against his chest, your head tilted to expose the elegant line of your neck.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered against your skin, "at any moment, and I will. Immediately."

You nodded, your body relaxing trustingly against his as his arm circled your waist, holding you close. You felt his lips press against your pulse point, soft and reverent, before they parted to allow his fangs to extend.

"I love you," he breathed against your neck, the words he so rarely spoke aloud given freely in this moment of ultimate vulnerability.

Before you could respond, his fangs pierced skin with surprising gentleness. You gasp, not in pain but in unexpected pleasure as the initial sting gives way to a sensation unlike anything you’ve experienced before. It was intimate in a way that transcended the physical, a connection that made your earlier lovemaking seem almost ordinary by comparison.

Klaus drank slowly, carefully, his arm tightening around your waist as a tremor ran through his body. You could feel his pleasure in the way he held yoy, in the soft sounds he made against your throat. It was nothing like the violent feeding you’ve witnessed when he tore into enemies; this was reverent, controlled, deeply personal.

After what felt like both an eternity and not nearly long enough, he withdrew his fangs, kissing the small wounds he left behind. You felt lightheaded but not weak, the experience leaving you with a strange euphoria that tingles through your entire body.

Klaus turned you in his arms to face him, his expression more open and vulnerable than you’d ever seen it. There was a hint of your blood on his lips, his eyes still showing traces of gold around the edges, but his gaze was clear and focused entirely on you.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice as his hand came up to stroke your cheek.

You nod, a slow smile spreading across your face as you lean to kiss him, tasting the metallic hint of your own blood on his lips without hesitation.

"More than alright," you assured him, your voice soft but steady. "That was...incredible."

Relief washed over his features, followed by something that looked suspiciously like wonder as he pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours.

"You are extraordinary," he murmured, his accent thicker than usual with emotion. "A thousand years, and I've never..."

He trailed off, seemingly unable to find words adequate to express what he was feeling. Instead, he simply held you, his fingers stroking through your hair as both your breathing synchronized in the quiet room.

"Thank you," he finally whispered, the simple words carrying the weight of centuries of loneliness and the gratitude of a man who had finally found acceptance in the arms of someone who saw him, truly saw him, and loved him anyway.

"You're welcome. And tomorrow at the beach, when you want to strangle me for putting you in that situation, do be sure to remember how extraordinary I am."

Klaus's serious expression broke into a surprised laugh, the sound rich and genuine as it rumbled through his chest. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the vulnerability of moments before giving way to amused affection as he gazed down at you.

"Using my own words against me already?" he teased, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your bare shoulder. "Clever girl."

He pulled you closer against him, tucking your head beneath his chin as his arms encircled you possessively. Despite the lingering heat of the night, neither of you made any move to separate, the intimacy just shared creating a bond that transcended physical discomfort.

"I'll endeavor to remember your extraordinary nature," he promised dryly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "even when Kol is making inappropriate comments about your swimwear and I'm contemplating removing his liver."

You laugh softly against his chest, your fingers absently tracing the birds tattooed on his chest.

"Just his liver? You're getting soft in your old age," you quip, tilting your head up to meet his gaze with mischief dancing in your eyes. "The Klaus Mikaelson I know would threaten at least three vital organs and possibly limb removal."

Klaus smirked, his hand sliding down to cup your backside in a possessive squeeze.

"The night is still young, love," he reminded you, his voice taking on that dangerous edge that always sent a shiver down your spine. "Don't tempt me to demonstrate just how 'soft' I'm not."

His expression sobered slightly as his other hand came up to trace the spot on your neck where he'd fed, the marks still visible.

"Are you truly alright?" he asked more seriously, searching your face for any sign of discomfort or regret. "I didn't take too much?"

Your teasing smile softened into something more tender as you reached up to touch his face, your thumb brushing across his cheekbone with gentle affection.

"I'm perfect," you assured him, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. "It was perfect. You were perfect."

Klaus seemed to absorb your words like a man who'd been thirsting for them his entire life, his eyes closing briefly as if to savor the moment.

"It was...intimate," he admitted quietly, opening his eyes to meet your gaze again. "More so than I expected. Sharing blood with you, it's different than feeding. Than anything I've experienced before."

There was wonder in his voice, a rare vulnerability that he showed to no one else. Your heart swelled with love for this complex, dangerous, damaged man who trusted you enough to reveal these parts of himself.

"Different good?" you asked, your voice soft in the quiet room.

Klaus nodded, his fingers threading through your hair as he drew your face up for another kiss, this one deeper, more thorough.

"Different extraordinary," he murmured against your lips, echoing your earlier description. "Like everything about you."

You melt into his kiss, your body molding against his despite your recent exertions. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, you settled back against his chest with a contented sigh.

"Just think," you mused sleepily, your earlier exhaustion returning now that the adrenaline was fading, "tomorrow you get to see me in the swimsuit that took fourteen tries to select. After that, you might even forgive me for subjecting you to a family beach day."

Klaus chuckled, his arms tightening around you as he pulled the light sheet over your cooling bodies.

"I've already forgiven you," he admitted, his voice softening as he felt you drifting toward sleep. "Though I reserve the right to be thoroughly irritated with my siblings when they inevitably ruin what could have been a perfect day alone with you."

You hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes already closed as you curled closer to him.

"They won't ruin it," you murmured, your voice fading as sleep began to claim you. "They're family. Our family."

Klaus gazed down at you, his expression softening in a way it never did when others were present. The fearsome hybrid, the terror of New Orleans, looking at this human woman as if she were the most precious thing in his thousand years of existence.

"Sleep, love," he whispered, pressing a final kiss to your forehead. "Tomorrow will be...interesting, if nothing else."

As you drifted off in his arms, Klaus remained awake, watching over you with an expression that mingled wonder, possessiveness, and a fierce protectiveness that would have terrified anyone who might wish you harm. In the quiet darkness of the room, with you warm and trusting in his embrace, Klaus Mikaelson allowed himself to acknowledge what you had become to him, not just lover, not just companion, but home.

A concept he'd never truly understood until you.

Taglist: @ariesandwolves

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gmikaelson · 1 month ago

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My Lady | K.M

Contains Smut (jump to the next asterisk if you'd like to skip)

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