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myklaus · 11 days ago

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[ Klaus Mikaelson x Reader ]

Daddy Kink Smut

18+ (Minors DNI)

*Female Reader, Inclusive Language

*Warnings: rough sex

*No plot, just a lot of kinky, indulgent smut

Word Count: 4.8k

Kinks: Daddy kink, Klaus literally chases Y/N, Elijah is mentioned (talking about Elijah is a kink of mine), hints of a threesome, jealous/possessive Klaus, brat taming, Dom/sub vibes, light degradation

___

“You are out of your mind if you think I’d ever share you,” Klaus scoffs, slamming the front door closed.

You turn your back to him as you walk into his living room, trying to hide the smile on your face. You’re almost laughing at how funny it is to rile him up. It doesn’t take much to upset Klaus, and while you don’t want him to feel bad, or be angry at you, sometimes you can’t resist being the reason he wants to pull his hair out.

Call it revenge, you think, feeling pleased with yourself. You plop down on his couch and kick your shoes off. It’s not like he’s easy to deal with most of the time.

“I don’t get why you’re so upset,” you say casually, sitting with your legs criss-crossed. You’re lying - because you know exactly why he’s upset. Have carefully constructed the entire night according to your plan, just so you could get this side of your boyfriend.

You move your purse to the table in front of you and wait for Klaus to enter the room too. When he does, he’s shaking his head, muttering something about the front door being broken (one thousand year old hybrid strength will do that), and now you can’t hide just how excited this is all making you.

You smile.

“You’re a smart girl, sweetheart,” Klaus starts, trying not to blow up. You can tell by the way he crosses his arms, won’t sit down, is probably about to start pacing just to burn off some of the energy he’s feeling with how irritated he is with you. “Surely you can see why asking me for a threesome with another man would send me into a rage.”

It’s a little romantic, in a sick kind of way, that Klaus is trying not to lose his temper on you. You're not sure there’s another person alive who would get the same treatment, and it kind of goes to your head. Makes you want to push and push and push to see what you can get away with.

“Klaus,” you say, trying to keep the giddiness out of your tone. Maybe you’re drunk - you did just come back from a bar - because anyone smart would be much too fearful to keep poking the sleeping bear that is Klaus’ temper. But he loves you, and constantly promises that he’d never hurt you (unless you beg or ask nicely). He’s never broken that promise in all the years you’ve been together.

You’re distracted for a minute, wondering if he’s going to make a dented pathway in the floor with the way he keeps pacing. You know him so well. It’s a trait you think he picked up from the time he spends in wolf form. Pacing, whenever he’s stuck somewhere, nervous, or waiting.

Whatever the reason, it definitely helps with calming him down.

Which is good, for what you’re about to say.

“I didn’t ask for a threesome with a random man,” you remind him, because you’re not that crazy. Although, as the next sentence leaves your mouth, you sort of wonder if that would’ve been a better thing to say. “I asked for one with Elijah, and he’s far from random.”

Klaus stops his pacing and looks at you, and you wonder what he’s thinking. He has to know you’re kidding, trying to rile him up, but he just can’t control himself. It’s one of the things you like so much about him - his passion. With passion comes violence too, and mood swings stronger than a hundred teenagers going through puberty at the same time, but it’s endearing.

Most of the time. You wonder what it’ll be tonight.

With a sigh you know he feels down to his bones, Klaus glares at you. He almost looks disappointed, and you can’t help but get turned on at what you know that means. Perhaps…if you’re lucky…

Punishment might ensue.

“Why must you be such a brat?” Klaus asks, exasperation evident in his tone.

Klaus’ voice, when he’s so done with you, is scary. Frightening, if you didn’t know any better. He’s so upset and frustrated that he’s close to yelling, and that knowledge has excitement brewing in your stomach.

Instead of replying, you keep playing it cool. You meet his eyes before looking down at your hands, pretending like you’re checking your cuticles, like you can’t be bothered with his tantrum. And Klaus just stands there, desperate for you to acknowledge him, wants to continue on his little rant but wants to make sure you’re listening and paying attention first.

Which is typical Klaus.

“I’m far from a brat,” you remark, like it’s incredulous he’d even ask such a question like that. Like it’s such a far cry from who you really are (it’s not) that it’s actually insulting.

Except…you did flirt with other guys on purpose tonight at the bar, but you’re pretty, and frankly, Klaus knows he needs to keep an eye on you when you go out together. How can he blame you for someone else chatting you up?

And, okay, so you did laugh when Elijah met up with you guys and Klaus tried to explain his new plan to him, whatever that means. It’s not like you laughed on purpose. Klaus just gets so serious, and so dramatic, and he’s so cute when he’s determined.

And, alright, maybe you did go a little too far when you hugged Elijah goodbye and let it linger. And you probably shouldn’t have joked and said you’d ride home with him instead of Klaus, who looked at you like you just tried to dagger him, then proceeded to drag you to the car.

Because - fine.

You’ve been purposely being a brat all night long. And really, you’re kind of offended that it’s taken Klaus this long to bring your ass home.

It’s just that Klaus has been so busy. He gives you attention, sure, and he tries to make time for you, but it’s just not enough.

You have your own life and friends and plenty of hobbies outside of your relationship, but sometimes you just wish you could shrink yourself, stay in Klaus’ pocket just to keep him company.

How cute would that be?

You’re taken out of your thoughts when Klaus walks towards you, sits on the coffee table in front of you and wow, you think, no manners. But what can you expect from a man who tortures people for fun?

“Can’t believe you want to be close to this brat,” you say, in a bratty tone, crossing your arms over your chest. Klaus smiles and shakes his head, in that you have no idea what I’m about to do next way. Because yes, that’s a thing with Klaus - he’s always full of surprises. Full of new ideas to fuck someone up or take things up a notch.

He’s honestly really creative for such a scary man. But you suppose that he is an artist, and his…creativity makes sense.

“Yes, well,” Klaus starts, looking you up and down. His eyes catch on the swell of your breasts, pushed up from the way you’re crossing your arms, then they follow your body down to where your legs are criss-crossed, your panties fully showing.

Not a mistake on your part. Deliberate, actually.

“You’ve distracted me with your not so subtle flashing, love. I have to say, I was not expecting you to be wearing anything pink with that dress,” he comments, bringing heat to your face, because he’s trying to embarrass you. You’re wearing a black dress and black heels, so his observation is actually kind of correct.

Bastard.

“Yeah, well,” you say, mirroring him unintentionally. Maybe that saying is true, that the more time you spend with someone, the more you begin to mirror them - but you hope, for the safety of everyone in this town, that it’s not. “Underwear doesn’t have to match an outfit, you pervert,” you finish.

Klaus laughs, dimple and all. He turns you on so much, fills your chest with warmth because he’s just so charming, that it actually makes you mad. Horny. Mad horny?

Probably.

“Calling me names isn’t very nice, Y/N. Why don’t you tell me why you’re really acting out tonight, sweetheart.” Klaus reaches out and you uncross your arms, and you let him grab your hand and rest your entwined hands on your thigh. So close to where you want him to touch.

The petname makes you melt a little, and you shrug.

“I’m not trying to act out,” you say, lie, “but you’re just so busy all the time, and you paid more attention to Elijah tonight than you did to me,” you’re seriously pouting now. God, what happened to being a strong, independent woman?

It’s so embarrassing, when you get like this. These little moods, these little attitude bursts. It’s just that you’re wound so tight with work, and your friends have been going through stuff where they need you, and you’re always having to keep a close eye on Klaus because he’s insane, and what you really want tonight, no, what you really need tonight, is to be taken care of.

But you won’t ask for it. So you play the role of brat, because you know that Klaus naturally plays his role when you do yours just right.

“I see,” Klaus nods, gone all serious. Most guys would make fun of you right now, call you needy or annoying or immature, but Klaus actually enjoys when you’re like this, you think. Or, you hope he does.

But judging by the bulge in his pants already, you’re pretty certain that he definitely does.

“You need Daddy to give you some attention, is that what I’m hearing?” Klaus finally says it, and your entire body warms while arousal pools deep in your belly.

But you can’t stop yourself. Can’t stop the brat from tearing through you. “A Daddy would be nice, yeah,” you say, like any random man will do. “Do you think Elijah is still awake? Call him and find out.”

You wish you had a camera to film Klaus’ face after the words leave your mouth, but he’s just too fast. Hoists you up to your feet and places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around so your back is facing him, and then he directs you to his staircase.

“Let’s play a game, love,” he says, and you hold back a shiver. Oh yes, you think. You love Klaus’ games.

“What’s the game?” You ask, holding back from calling him your special word. You’re just not there yet. You want to be, but it takes some time to get you fully comfortable with calling Klaus that name - and you know that whatever game he has in mind will get you there.

“I’m going to chase you to my bedroom, sweet Y/N. If I catch you, you’ll get your punishment,” and the way he says that word sounds like dripping caramel. Sticky. Tempting. You don't hold back a shiver this time.

“Punished for what?” You breathe, aren’t sure if he can even hear you with how soft your voice is. You're staring at the stairs, wondering how you’ll out run him.

If you even want to.

“For bringing up another man,” he says, and he rubs his hands up down your arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You swallow hard.

“It was a joke,” you weakly defend. You can’t explain it, but you can feel Klaus smiling behind you.

“Joke or not, the thought of another man, my brother no less, taking up any space in your head is unacceptable to me. Now,” he removes his touch from you. “Go.”

You’re glad you already took your shoes off. You take off running, scampering up the stairs and fuck Klaus for needing such a big house. Up the stairs and down the hallway where his art is hung up, past the bathroom where he fucked you over the sink a few days ago, past the study where he fingered you on his lap last week, the memories further turning you on, so much so that you know if Klaus were to check, you’d have a wet spot in your panties.

You can hear him behind you, know he gave you a few second head start which you think is romantic, and you're just about to make it to the bed when Klaus speeds up, knocks into you and shoves you, although gently, onto the bed. You let out a soft gasp, truly feeling like prey being caught by a predator, and you think about the people Klaus catches, tortures, torments - they’d never see this soft side to him.

The people that Klaus catches, the people he looks for and hunts down - once he gets them, they’re dead.

A shiver runs up your spine in delight. Because you’re going to get orgasms when he catches you, and you're going to get attention, and you should be turned off by the fact that Klaus has done so many horrible things to so many people, but you're just flattered that he hasn’t done those things to you.

You can admit that maybe you’re not the most normal woman in the world for thinking something so selfish like that - but you and Klaus are so well suited for a reason.

The face of so many people’s nightmares is the same guy who couldn’t figure out how to clip your necklace on before you went out tonight. It’s kind of sweet.

“Got you,” Klaus whispers in your ear, and you can’t help it - you whimper.

“I was going slow so you wouldn’t be embarrassed that you couldn’t catch me,” you brat, smirk threatening to break out on your face. Klaus is pinning you down on the bed, and his physical dominance over you is so hot. He turns you around so you’re facing him and pushes you back down, pins your arms down by holding your wrists together over your head with one of his strong hands. “What are you going to do about it?”

Klaus rips your dress, making the buttons on the front pop off. You almost shriek in surprise, and Klaus laughs and descends on your chest, sucks your hard nipples into his mouth and presses kisses down your stomach until he’s almost to your aching core.

“You’re buying me a new dress,” you murmur, but there’s not so much brat left in your system after that. Not when Klaus is so close to the place you want attention most.

Klaus kisses your belly button and you squirm. He breathes in the smell of your skin and continues pressing kisses all over your stomach. “I’ll buy you the whole store,” he says off handedly, like he could care less about a stupid dress. “You smell positively sweet, Y/N. Are you wearing the lotion I bought for you?”

All your friends think it’s weird that Klaus is so into picking stuff out for you. Girl things. Clothes and purses and lotions and perfumes and shoes. But you understand.

It’s a control thing, and there’s no mistake about that.

You love it.

“Daddy,” the word slips from your mouth. Once he gets you pinned down, aware of the power difference and the physical strength difference between you two, it’s easy to fall into the headspace that lets Klaus have all the control he wants. “Get on with it,” you say, bucking your hips up.

Klaus smirks against your skin. “I thought you wanted my attention, sweetheart. Let me give it to you. Stop being so demanding.”

You think he's going to go down on you, but Klaus stands up, an evil glint in his eye like he just got a new idea.

He strips off his clothes, and you watch in awe. Love the way his body is so toned, how he’s still slim but so strong, pale and perfect and he probably should’ve been a model instead of a homicidal hybrid.

You must be panting, or drooling, because Klaus grips your chin and kisses you softly, as if to close your mouth and keep you quiet. Your face heats again, always so humbled when you get into this role.

“You want all Daddy’s attention,” Klaus continues, and you nod, open your mouth to agree, but he tsks you.

“Haven’t finished what I was saying, darling,” he coos, but not in a cute way. In a degrading way, like you’re so silly and stupid that you don’t even know that you’re not supposed to be talking right now.

His tone has you squeezing your thighs together for some relief.

Klaus is naked, fully hard, and he pumps his cock in his hand while watching you. He climbs on the bed beside you and sits back against his pillows, watching you like a king watching from his throne. “Panties off,” he orders, and you obey, scrambling and almost tripping because it’s so hard to take anything off while on the bed. Klaus notices this, knows this, because he chuckles.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he says, gesturing to the side of the bed. “Just stand up and take them off.” You can’t believe how quickly you become so submissive for him, that you didn’t even think further than do exactly what Klaus tells you to do. He didn’t tell you to get off the bed, so you didn’t.

You are way too easy for him.

You get off the bed and get naked, pink panties thrown haphazardly on the floor, all while Klaus watches you like you’re his favorite art piece in a museum. Admiration in his gaze, a little smile on his perfect lips.

“If you want my attention so bad,” he finally finishes, “Come show me you deserve it.” He removes his hand from his cock and you watch it stand tall, your mouth literally filling with saliva just looking at it. You can’t wait to taste it, put your mouth on it, make him feel good.

Fuck, you think. Klaus has got you better trained than you thought.

“Come on, Y/N,” he orders, patting his lap. “Come sit on Daddy’s cock.”

You don't need to be told twice. You get back on the bed and crawl on your knees to him and straddle his lap, gripping his cock in your hand. The head of his dick is leaking precum, and you smear it with your thumb, loving the sharp intake of breath that leaves his mouth.

Klaus grips your hips and leans in to press kisses along your neck and jaw. It’s romantic, it’s sweet, until Klaus smacks your ass so hard you whimper. He reaches under you and smacks your hand away, grabs his cock, runs it against your aching clit and your wet core, and you let out a moan.

You feel him smirk against your throat. “Get on with it, love. I told you to sit.” You nod and he moves his hand so you can grip his dick again, and slowly, you lower yourself on it.

You feel a stretch, and even though you’re so turned on, it’s noticeable. You know Klaus can hear it, the slick noise your pussy makes as you lower yourself onto his length. It turns you on, especially when he digs his fingers into your hips and mutters, “Fuck.”

But it’s too much. It’s hard to be on top, and it’s not like you’re a pillow princess who doesn’t want to put in any work, but you don’t want to be on top right now. Your pussy is too sensitive to take control, and Klaus knows that.

He’s having so much fun fucking with you.

You whimper, and Klaus raises a brow at you, his expression cocky. “Just tell me when you want me to take control,” he says, and now you’re pissed. You’re worked up, the head of his dick is inside of you, you’re so horny you could cry, and he’s just teasing you.

Klaus wants you to beg - and he’s so sure of himself, laid back against his pillows in his stupidly big bed. On his dumb soft sheets with his irritatingly hot self, and you hate him.

You hate that you love him so much. That your body needs something that only he can give.

There’s a time and a place for it, because sometimes you do want to push him down and mount him. Take what you want from him, sit on his cock and just use him the way you want. But this isn’t the time, and you’re not past begging now. Not when your pussy starts squeezing over the head of his dick inside of you, desperate for more.

Your frustration is building.

“Daddy,” you whine, and Klaus raises his eyebrows, plays with your nipples like he has no idea what you’re asking for, even as he fights back a confident smirk. “Please fuck me. I don’t want to do the work, I want, I want,” you get off of him despite his hands on your hips, and you lay on your back, spreading your legs. “I want you to take care of me.”

The grin that breaks out across Klaus' face is priceless. You wonder what it must be like, for the people he hurts, seeing such a handsome face before he inevitably kills them. He’s like a fallen angel.

A fallen angel who turns you on your stomach like you weigh nothing, who spanks your ass not once but three times just for the fuck of it, running his cock across your wet slit when he positions you on your hands and knees.

“It’s nice of you to admit you need me for something, brat,” he says, slowly sliding his cock inside of you. His dick is big, because of course it is, with an ego like his, and even though you’re wet, you still tense as he pushes himself all the way inside of you. “You’re so fucking wet,” he comments in amazement. You grip the covers and let out a breath to adjust.

Fuck, it feels good.

“Not a brat,” you murmur against the bed sheets. You can’t help yourself.

But Klaus smacks your ass so hard again and the scary thing is, you know he’s holding back. Know that even in that smack, that has you almost wanting to let out a cry, he’s not even using all the power he has in one hand.

“Not a brat for much longer,” Klaus muses, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck while he begins to thrust. “I aim to make you brainless and begging on my cock. What do you think, love? Think it’ll work?”

He snaps his hips against you, and you moan, before he pushes your face down in the pillows so your body allows him at a better angle inside of you. With your face down, ass up, Klaus keeps hold of your hips and fucks into you so hard the bed starts rocking. The bed frame smacks against the wall, and you’re worried it’s going to break.

But then Klaus pauses, puts a pillow between the bed frame and the wall, and continues fucking you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he curses, and he’s right - you’re brainless. You’re not quite begging, because you can hardly get your mouth to open and can’t even form a thought, because the feeling of Klaus inside of you is too much.

He’s everything, in this moment. His smell, the feel of him using your body however he wants. Getting himself off while you lay there and take it. It feels good, so good, and your pussy grips around his cock so tight it feels like you’re squeezing - but there’s something else too. A little drag, a little pain, just because Klaus is going so rough. It’s a reminder, you think, of how strong he is and how in charge he is.

It’s fucking delightful.

“Daddy,” you whine, turning your face to look at him. Klaus looks positively powerful, with his necklace bouncing against his chest with every thrust and his biceps bulging with the way he’s holding onto you, fucking you. Sometimes, he can fuck your for hours, but this isn’t one of those nights. Tonight you both want it fast, hard, and you picked the right boyfriend for that.

Fast and hard is Klaus’ speciality.

“What, sweetheart?” He asks, panting. He has to pause for a minute and keeps his cock buried deep inside of you, but then he gets an idea. He pulls out and turns you on your back before sliding back in, halfway, and you claw at his back and shoulders and beg him to go all the way.

“Tell me what you want,” Klaus urges, even though he knows damn well what it is that you want. “Use your words. You can talk, can’t you? Or are you so dick drunk you’re left speechless?”

He’s so damn full of himself tonight, and normally that’d turn you off. But in a moment like this, with Klaus in charge, you just want to whine even more. It’s so hot, how he knows what he’s doing. It’s so hot, that he knows what you want.

Daddy. That’s the only thought going through your head.

“I want,” you start, mind a jumbled mess that’s mainly focused on how you’re going to cum. “Touch me, Daddy. Fuck me. Just,” you pause, stick your tongue out to lick your bottom lip, but Klaus leans down and sucks it into his mouth. Kisses you breathless. You pathetically whine against his lips.

“Beg,” he orders, slowly pulling his dick out of you and running his hard cock between your legs. You’re aching, but he loves it, the way you twitch and suck in a breath at the feeling of the head of his dick rubbing your clit, slipping through your wet folds. He’s such an ass, you think, arching into his touch. You want him so bad.

“Daddy, please,” you do as he says, but Klaus just clicks his tongue.

“You want me, you need me, yet you still tried to get the attention of other men tonight. Brought up my brother. Tell me, love, how do you expect you’d handle another man with me? You can hardly function when it's just my cock inside of you,” he says, voice soft, degrading.

You let out a cry.

“Just wanted to make you mad,” you admit, but then you can’t help the whining plea that leaves your lips. God, even you’re sick of the whining, but Klaus seems to love it. His dick twitches whenever a whine leaves your lips. He hasn’t let up from teasing you with his cock, like it’s some type of sex toy used to be too gentle, too teasing.

You want the real thing.

“I know that,” Klaus assures, voice distant, like he’s just playing and not about to put his dick inside of you. “Tell Daddy that your pussy belongs only to me, and I’ll fuck you. I’ll give you what you want. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You can do more than that if it means getting his dick inside of you. So you nod, stretch your neck up so Klaus gets the hint and bends down to kiss you. He does, his teeth catching your bottom lip. “You’re a good girl, Y/N,” he mutters as he pulls away, so soft that you almost don’t hear it. “Now tell me you belong to me.”

“I’m yours, Klaus. Whatever you want. You know that, you’re the only one who can make me feel like this, please just,” you groan softly, even as his dick starts to enter you. “Please just fuck me, Daddy.”

Klaus pushes all the way in and a presses a quick kiss to your nose, gathering your legs and holding them in place at his hips. He starts fucking you so fast, so rough, that the pillow fucking slips from behind the headboard and the bed starts hitting the wall again.

“Oh my god,” you cry out, and you feel it. You’re going to cum soon. Klaus laughs. “You don’t have to call me your god,” he teases, because even balls deep he has to make his comments. “Daddy will do just fine.”

You’re about to cum. From his cock, from being too sensitive, it’s too fucking much. It’s not often you can cum without foreplay or some clitoral stimulation, but on a night like this? Klaus has your every nerve on overdrive. You can cum from just his perfect cock.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you start to say, only you’re cut off.

Because with the bed hitting the wall, with the noises of fucking, from being so drunk on Klaus’ cock, and with his back to the door - you both didn’t notice that someone entered the room.

Didn’t notice that Elijah made it inside easily from the broken front door, came up the stairs, and was now standing in the doorway to the bedroom watching the two of you fuck. He’s in a suit, with his arms crossed, an expression on his face you’ve never seen.

Arousal, maybe? If that’s the case, you’re sure Klaus feels the way your pussy squeezes his dick at the thought. He’s literally still inside of you.

“Daddy,” Elijah says like he’s asking a question, clicking his tongue the same way Klaus does. Their similarities are insanely hot, especially in a moment like this. Elijah’s hands work to take his tie off, shrugging off his suit jacket and putting it on the chair in the corner of the room. He walks towards the bed. “I knew I heard someone calling my name.” His grin is cocky, the same one Klaus wears.

Elijah crosses the room as Klaus tries to hide your body with his own, but then the bed dips because Elijah sits down. “Niklaus,” he starts, eyeing your naked chest. “Do you need a lesson in sharing?”

#🥀₊˚⊹ recs.#uhhhhhh good morning 2 me i guess ��#ajhfgjkhkfdjga #perfect as always

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