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ginnsbaker · 22 hours ago

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All Of Your Pieces (12 - Red)

Chapter Summary: Unable to accept that she is now part of the team, you try to avoid Wanda Maximoff at all cost.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 4k+ | Chapter Tags: Age of Ultron!Wanda, Enemies to Lovers (sort of)

A/N: I got some interesting asks about Y/N's background. There are backstories about Y/N that will come up since Part 2 is purely a flashback. However, things such as how she became an Avenger is not covered, but you're welcome to ask me for headcanons (or give your own!). P.S. Someone asked how old Y/N is in the flashbacks, and she's actually younger than Wanda P.P.S get ready for some action too! it's my first time writing such a scene *_*// More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pretending Wanda Maximoff didn’t exist was easier than you initially thought.

You got good at avoiding her. It became part of your routine—timing your movements through the compound to miss her by minutes, memorizing her schedule so you could always be somewhere else. Sometimes you’d see a hint of her around a corner, a flash of the crimson jacket she usually wore or the dark fall of her hair, but you'd steer in the opposite direction without a second thought.

She seemed to reciprocate—or maybe she simply picked up on the hint. Either way, you both managed to coexist without the need to acknowledge the other. You, a lifelong night owl, suddenly found yourself becoming a morning person the moment you realized Wanda preferred the training room in the evenings. Working out before dawn felt like the safest plan. You told yourself it was working.

Meals, however, were trickier. The kitchen and dining area were unavoidable shared spaces, and schedules didn’t always align as neatly as you’d hoped. Some mornings, you’d find her already there, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, or she’d walk in just as you were finishing up.

The team had a tradition—dinners together, a semblance of family in a life that lacked roots. You started to skip these, opting for protein bars or quick microwaves alone. It was easier than facing her across the table, being reminded of what she forced you to see back in Johannesburg.

But then you noticed Wanda stopped showing up, too. On the nights you did show up, her seat was empty. The others didn’t seem bothered, but you couldn’t shake the feeling it was your fault.

Despite having won the territory, you couldn’t shake the guilt that came with it.

—

Steve and Tony were at each other’s throats again.

Their arguments had become more frequent in recent weeks, and although you usually stayed out of it, they were beginning to take its toll on the team. You could tell lines were being drawn; team members quietly taking sides, aligning themselves according to whoever had a mission lined up.

You walked into the meeting room, late as usual, pretending you hadn't heard them from halfway across the building. Steve stood rigid, arms crossed over his chest, jaw set like granite. Tony reclined with that maddeningly casual air that mostly irked Steve, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other animatedly waved as he spoke.

Wanda was tucked away in the corner farthest from the door, partially shielded by Vision. Trying to avoid Wanda only made you seek her out involuntarily, as much as you wished not to.

“I'm telling you, Tony, allowing the government to dictate our actions undermines everything we stand for,” Steve said.

Oh. This again? The politics of it all was your least favorite thing about being an Avenger.

“Accountability,” Tony replied. “We can't keep making unilateral decisions without considering the global implications.”

Steve shook his head. “We've operated just fine without bureaucratic red tape slowing us down. Every second counts when lives are at stake.”

Tony snorted in a way that’s supposed to rile up Steve even more. “Operating 'just fine'? You call the messes we've left behind 'just fine'?”

You cleared your throat. “Sounds like a party in here.”

Neither of them acknowledged you. Your gaze unintentionally drifted toward Wanda, and you caught her eyes just as she quickly looked away.

“Since when did you become a fan of bureaucracy?” Steve asked.

“Since the paperwork started piling up from our little international incidents,” Tony said, pouring himself another shot of whiskey.

You grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, leaning against the counter as their words volleyed back and forth.

“Paperwork? Is that what this is about? You’re tired of paperwork?”

“I’m tired of taking the blame for all of us,” Tony said.

“Well, you did create Ultron, didn’t you?”

Tony's eyes narrowed. If he weren't clad in his robe, he'd be suiting up right now. “Low blow, Rogers.”

“Truth hurts,” Steve replied.

You took a bite of your apple. “You two need a time-out or something?”

Tony turned to you, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “Ah, look who finally joined us. Got anything to say?”

“Nope,” you replied, chewing deliberately. “But could you tone it down? Your arguing is scaring the children.”

“You are the ‘children’,” Clint said with a smirk and you gave him a dirty look.

Natasha hid a smile behind her glass.

“I meant Vision,” you said, pointedly not looking at the synthezoid lest your gaze accidentally land on Wanda again.

Steve exhaled sharply. “This isn't a joke.”

Natasha set her glass down carefully. “Does this really need to be settled now?” she asked, her tone of voice indicating she’s taking charge now. “We gathered the team for a briefing, remember?”

“You're right,” Steve conceded. “We can discuss this later.”

Tony shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Clint leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “So, what's on the agenda?”

Vision, to your surprise, got up from his seat. You recalled that before becoming whatever he was now, he had been Stark's AI, which gave him direct access to global networks. He would be among the first to hear any distress calls.

“We've received intelligence about a potential threat escalating in Southeastern Europe,” Vision said.

You took another bite of your apple, listening but keeping your expression neutral.

Steve picked up a remote and clicked it, causing a holographic map to appear in the center of the room. Red markers dotted a specific region. “A rogue faction has been intercepting shipments of advanced weaponry.”

Tony arched an eyebrow. “Let me guess—Stark tech?”

“Sort of,” Steve allowed. “But they're not just shopping for tech. They're also headhunting for the enhanced.”

At that, Wanda shifted slightly in her seat at the back, her attention fixed intently on the map. You noticed but quickly averted your eyes, focusing instead on the holographic display.

“Any idea who’s leading this faction?” Natasha asked.

“Not yet,” Steve said. “But Intel suggests they're planning something big, and soon.”

“So what’s the plan?” you tossed out.

Steve's eyes swept the room. “We intercept them before they can mobilize. It’s in the rural mountains of Cilo,” he pointed to a spot on the map of Turkey. “Barely any civilians, but we still play it clean—minimal casualties.”

“I'll prep the suits and run some satellite sweeps. Maybe we can get a clearer picture of their operations,” Tony declared, and without waiting for a dismissal, he headed for the door. Steve watched him leave, shaking his head with a mix of irritation and resignation.

“Roles, then,” Steve started, raising his voice just enough to reach the corners of the room—a small gathering today; Rhodes was with the U.S. president on a diplomatic trip in Asia, and Sam was aiding Sokovian refugees settling into their new homes.

“Natasha and Clint, you'll handle reconnaissance. Vision, you will join Tony for air support. I'll lead the ground team.”

“Who’s on the ground team?” you asked.

Steve held your look. “You, me, and Wanda.”

The pit of your stomach clenched. “Fantastic,” you muttered.

“Problem?” Steve challenged.

You quickly schooled your expression. “Nope.”

“Good,” he said firmly. “We roll out at dawn. Meeting’s over.”

As you headed toward the door, Natasha fell into step beside you. “You okay with this?” she asked quietly.

“Why wouldn't I be?” you replied, not meeting her eyes.

She gave you a knowing look. “I know what you’ve been doing. Pretending Wanda doesn't exist isn't going to work on a mission.”

You sighed. “I'll be professional.”

“See that you are,” she said. “For everyone's sake.”

—

The mission was set for the next day, and you were mentally running through strategies, trying to anticipate every possible outcome. What you hadn't expected was a knock on your door late in the evening, well after Steve's usual bedtime of 9 PM.

Normally, you'd peer through the peephole to check who it was, but your mind was elsewhere—fixated on a particular restaurant in Istanbul you hoped to visit if there was any downtime after the raid. You'd never confess this to anyone, but you were a bit of a foodie. Sampling the best cuisine in each country your Avenger duties took you to had become a personal quest.

Without thinking, you stood and walked over, opening the door to find Wanda standing there, her hands nervously clasped in front of her. You looked down at your feet, waiting.

“I need your help,” she said. These were the first words she had ever spoken to you, and you didn’t know why you'd taken note of it.

You didn't glance up. “Don't recall offering it.”

She slipped inside without asking, the soft soles of her boots silent on the floor—a detail that annoyed you. “Steve said he wants minimal casualties, and my powers aren't exactly…gentle. I need to learn how to fight without relying on it too much.”

“So go ask someone else.”

“There's no one else available right now,” she murmured. “Natasha is out, and Steve thought it would be good if we—”

You cut her off, finally raising your head to look at her. “I'm not interested.”

Wanda scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t be coming to you if there’s—”

“Then maybe Vision can help you,” you suggested coldly. “He seems to have taken a liking to you. I'm sure he can dig up some martial arts videos for you.”

She bristled. “Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like being civil is something that could actually make you sick.”

You met her gaze, unflinching. “I don't have time for this.”

Wanda inhaled sharply, and a strange energy coursed through your veins, the furniture in your bedroom shuddering as though caught in a miniature earthquake. But you held your position, unafraid.

“If you refuse to cooperate, I'll have to report back to Steve,” she warned.

The threat was so feeble it almost made you laugh. But you aimed to be more cruel than that.

“Go ahead,” you replied coolly. “Tell him I won't hold your hand.”

Wanda looked on the verge of an outburst. Good.

“Why are you being so difficult?”

You crossed your arms. “Why are you still standing at my door?”

Without another word, she closed her eyes briefly. Suddenly, you felt a subtle push against your thoughts—a whisper not your own. “Why do you hate me so much? We have to work together—”

You recoiled, anger flaring. “Get out of my head.”

“I was just trying to—”

“I don't care what you were trying to do,” you spat, getting in her face. “Don't ever do that again.”

She reeled back slightly. If it weren’t for the fact that she was a hundred times more powerful than you, you might have thought she was intimidated. But as you drew near, you saw it wasn't anger in her eyes, but hurt—a wounded response to your harsh dismissal.

After a few seconds, Wanda nodded. “I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again,” she said softly.

Just then, Clint appeared around the corner. You gave him a questioning look. He might have seemed like he was just passing by, but you weren’t deceived. Clint had no reason to be in this hallway at this hour. It seemed more likely he had been eavesdropping on the last part of your conversation and chose this moment to step in.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked lightly.

“I was just looking for someone to help me with hand-to-hand training,” Wanda explained, already backing away from your doorway.

“I’m the guy for that,” he replied. “Head to the training room, I'll join you shortly.”

“Thanks,” she said, casting a final glance your way before turning on her heel and striding away.

Clint turned to you the moment you two were alone. “Got a minute?”

“Not really,” you replied, though you stayed rooted in your spot.

He leaned against the wall beside your door. “What's going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn't look like nothing,” he countered. “You're being pretty rude.”

You folded your arms. “She never apologized to the team.”

“And you think giving her the cold shoulder is going to fix that?” he asked. “Grow the fuck up, kid. Bullying the new recruit isn't doing any of us any favors.”

“She did some really awful things, Clint,” you reasoned. “She hasn't taken responsibility for that.”

He sighed. “And you've never screwed up? Never done something you regretted?”

“That's different.”

“Is it?” he challenged. “Because from where I'm standing, we all have our demons. You don't see the rest of us acting like we're better than anyone.”

You looked away. “You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.”

“Wanda showed me more than just a bad dream,” you whispered. “I—” You started to spill the details of your nightmare but stopped, the fear of appearing vulnerable, of seeming weak and worthless like your mother always made you feel, silencing you. When it became apparent you wouldn't continue, Clint added, “Ever thought that maybe she's dealing with her own nightmares too?”

You glanced back at him. “Why do you care so much?”

“Because we're a team,” he said simply. “And teams look out for each other. Even when it's hard.”

“I don’t know if I can—”

“No one's asking you to be her best friend,” he said. “But at least be civil. Professional. The mission depends on it.”

You nodded, standing straighter. “I'll do my job.”

“Good,” he said, pushing off the wall. “That's all I'm asking.”

“Good night, Clint,” you muttered, heading back to your room.

“One more thing,” Clint called out just before you could close the door completely. “You’re right—she never apologized to the team. But she sure as hell apologized to you earlier.”

—

The Quinjet touched down just beyond the rocky outskirts of the small Turkish village, three miles from the fortified base the team was about to infiltrate. The rogue faction had been using it as a stronghold to store advanced weaponry and conduct illicit operations. You unbuckled your harness and stood, adjusting your gear as the rear hatch lowered to reveal the arid landscape bathed in the golden hues of early morning.

Natasha caught your eye as she secured her gear. “Play nice,” she said, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

You gave a noncommittal shrug in response.

She arched an eyebrow but didn't press the point. Instead, she adjusted the strap of her Widow's Bite and headed down the ramp.

Clint was perched near a cluster of boulders, bow ready. He didn't speak; he just shot you a pointed look and nodded slightly. You'd never felt more babysat than you did at that moment. Trying to make an effort to improve your working relationship with Wanda (at their behest), you headed toward her without a clear plan for the conversation. A pep talk maybe? You weren’t great at those, but you had absorbed enough from Steve to last several lifetimes.

But just as you were mere steps away from her, she breezed past without a glance in your direction, heading straight toward where Steve was waiting for Tony and Vision's signal to advance. It was as if you didn't exist.

Fair enough, you thought. Two could play at that game.

You tapped the side of your headgear, bringing up the HUD that F.R.I.D.A.Y had uploaded with the mission parameters. A translucent map overlaid your vision, highlighting your designated route through the village's eastern perimeter. Your task was to secure the potential exit points and ensure no targets slipped through once the operation commenced.

“All right, everyone, we’ve got clearance from the air team,” Steve's voice trembled over the comms. There was an unusual distortion in the signal, and you silently hoped it wouldn’t cause problems later. “Check in.”

“In position,” came the succinct reply from Natasha

“Ready on the western ridge,” Clint reported.

“Copy that,” Steve said. “Wanda and I will approach the main entrance from the south. Y/N, you take the north side. Secure any escape routes and watch for patrols.”

You pressed a finger to your earpiece. “Understood.”

“Keep comms open and stay sharp,” Steve added, and with that, everyone moved into position.

You moved into position, the rugged terrain providing ample cover. The north exit was a chokepoint—a narrow path bordered by steep cliffs. Perfect for an ambush, but also a potential death trap.

“All clear on my end,” you whispered into the comm.

“Strange,” Clint remarked.

“Same here,” Natasha agreed. “It's too quiet. I don’t like it.”

Your instincts prickled.

Then, a faint vibration underfoot. You frowned, kneeling to touch the ground. The tremor grew stronger, rhythmic.

“Do you feel that?” you asked softly.

“Feel what?” Steve's voice came through.

Before you could respond, the ground shook violently. From hidden crevices and camouflaged tunnels, a swarm of hostiles erupted, pouring into the pass like a flood. Dozens—no, hundreds—armed to the teeth and moving with eerie coordination.

“Ambush!” you yelled, scrambling for cover.

“Hold your position—we're coming for you!” Steve roared.

It should have assured you, but for the next few minutes, you were on your own. You took stock of your surroundings. The pass was narrow—a choke point. It was clear now that it’s a trap, and the enemy got lucky that a superpowered didn’t end up scouting this area.

You opened fire with your dual silencers, taking down several men with precise shots. But for every one you dropped, two more seemed to appear in his place. They weren’t just attacking—they were herding you, forcing you deeper into the pass where the escape routes grew fewer and fewer.

Sweat trickled down your temple as you struggled to hold them off. Your muscles ached, and your breaths came in ragged gasps. An unexpected blow struck your side, slamming you against the rocky wall.

Gritting your teeth, you pressed against the cliffside, muscles taut. Outnumbered and isolated, and not to mention trapped on a dangerous corner, survival seemed impossible.

“Come on,” you muttered to yourself. “Think.”

Just as the closest attacker lunged, a surge of energy hurled him backwards. Wind seemed to come in every direction as Wanda landed on her feet beside you, her eyes glowing red.

Relief washed over you. “Your timing is impeccable.” You hadn't expected that seeing Wanda would make you feel so incredibly safe, but it did. It really did.

She gave a faint smile, eyes scanning the swarm of hostiles regrouping ahead. “We need to find a way out of this trap,” she urged.

“Agreed,” you replied, reloading your weapon.

The narrow pass had become a funnel, channeling them straight toward you. Rocks jutted out from the cliffside, creating pockets of shadow.

“We're pinned down,” you noted, pressing your back against the cold stone beside hers. The space was tight, forcing you closer together. You could feel the warmth radiating from her despite the cool mountain air.

Wanda glanced upward. “We might be able to climb to that ledge,” she suggested, her breath brushing against your ear.

“Worth a shot. I'll boost you up.”

Wanda gave a small, amused smile. “You don't have to do that. I can get up there myself.”

It took a moment for the realization to hit you. Of course—her psionic abilities allowed her to levitate. That's how she'd reached you so quickly earlier; she'd flown. Heat rushed to your face as embarrassment set in. “Right,” you mumbled, feeling a bit foolish. “I forgot you could... you know...”

If Wanda picked up on your discomfort, she kept it to herself. “I can give you a lift if you want,” she offered.

You looked up at the ledge, then back at her. Swallowing your pride, you gave a curt nod. “Sure.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “Just relax.”

That was easier said than done, considering the enemies that surrounded you both. But even harder than that was the idea of letting Wanda use her powers on you, even if it was just to help you reach that damned ledge.

“Ready?” Her eyes combed yours, fishing for consent.

“Ready.”

Her hands came up, almost invisible in their movement. A warm fuzzy feeling wrapped around you, and the ground fell away as she floated you up, effortless as breathing.

“Almost there,” she murmured.

She steered you onto the ledge, and when your feet hit solid ground, you exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding. “Thanks,” you tossed over your shoulder.

She smiled up at you. “Don’t mention it.”

She joined you shortly afterwards, landing gracefully beside you. The proximity was unavoidable on the narrow ledge, and you were acutely aware of how close you stood.

“Now what?”

Wanda leaned against the wall beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. “We need to find a way to contact the team.”

You checked your equipment. “Comms are jammed.”

She frowned. “They must have a dampening field.”

An explosion rocked the ground nearby, showering you with debris. “We can't stay like this here forever,” you muttered.

Wanda took a deep breath. “There is... something I can try.”

You glanced at her. “What is it?”

She swallowed hard. “I can get inside their heads—like I did before—to make them stand down.”

Like she did before in Johannesburg—to you, to the entire team in this mission sans Vision. You saw the fear in her eyes—the fear of your judgment, of repeating past mistakes. It struck you then how much she regretted what had happened between you.

Another burst of gunfire erupted, making you both flinch. There was no time.

You looked her in the eye and nodded. “Do it.”

Wanda wasted no time further. She got to work, her hands moving like a spider’s legs weaving its web. Looking down, you saw the men freeze mid-step. One by one, they dropped their weapons, eyes wide with unseen terror.

Unable to help yourself, you asked, “What are they seeing?”

Wanda kept her eyes on her work, pointedly avoiding your gaze. “Their worst fears and deepest guilts. They’re confronting the nightmares that haunt them most.”

For a split-second, you felt sorry for these people.

“Let's move,” you said, placing a reassuring hand on Wanda’s shoulder.

—

Reaching higher ground, you and Wanda were finally able to reestablish communication with the rest of the team. From his position, Steve was quick to inform the local authorities about the perpetrators that Wanda had incapacitated with her powers, ensuring they remained trapped within their own mental constructs until help arrived. Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint were busy collecting crucial evidence from the scene, items they believed would be vital in piecing together a solid case against the previously concealed masterminds of the operation. As for Vision and Tony, they razed the base to the ground.

Back at the Quinjet, you and Wanda took up positions to oversee and secure the extraction route.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

She looked up, slightly surprised. “Y-You’re welcome.”

You shifted your weight, grimacing slightly at a bruise forming on your side. “Thought being a veteran would make this mission easier,” you mused, going over the jet’s controls to give yourself something to do while you both waited for the others. “Overestimated myself this time.”

Wanda nodded thoughtfully.

Another period of silence stretched out, taut but not entirely uncomfortable. She seemed to wrestle with something before speaking again. “May I ask you a question?”

You hesitated, wary of where this might lead. “Sure.”

She took a slow breath. “Do you think... you might ever forgive me for what happened in Johannesburg?”

You exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the distant peaks. “Deep down, I know it wasn't entirely your fault,” you began, “but sometimes it's easier to face your fears when you have someone else to blame for them.”

She absorbed your words quietly. “I understand,” she said softly. She thought about Tony. For the longest time, she blamed him for everything.

“Wanda, I—”

Before the conversation could continue, footsteps crunched on gravel behind you. The rest of the team was coming down the trail, and Natasha was the first to pick up on the fact that you and Wanda had been left alone together without any fireworks.

She walked up to you with a sly grin barely lifting the corners of her mouth. “Good work out there,” she said.

You rolled your eyes and drifted to a quieter corner, away from the team.

Wanda had saved you. That much was clear, and it meant you owed her your life—a debt that sat uneasily with you. You were grateful, of course, but the last thing you wanted was to owe anything to anyone.

Especially not to someone who terrified you to your core.

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gmikaelson · 2 days ago

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The Assistant 4 | K.M

“See? Isn’t this nice?”

"Nice?" He scoffs. "I'm holding a fragile human who refuses to fear me properly, while my immortal father plots to destroy everything I..." he paused, his grip becoming gentle. "And yet somehow, you've managed to make me forget, for just a moment, that I should be ripping hearts out instead of dancing."

Summary: Klaus’s feelings for his assistant grow as the days go on. An encounter with his Father makes him feel fear like never before as he is faced with the prospect of loosing her.

A/N: Ahh! I love how this part turned out and even more for what’s to come. Enjoy!

Previous part >> Here

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As the weeks pass, Klaus has found it harder and harder to suppress his growing feelings. It was harder to even attempt to put a name to the feelings – a task he has been putting off since that day in the bayou.

Klaus paced his study with agitation, his enhanced hearing tracking Y/N's movements through the compound below. The past weeks have been... unsettling. Her increasing integration into his world, the way Hope lit up at her visits, how naturally she fit into the rhythm of his household - it was becoming dangerously addictive.

He paused at his desk, fingers tracing the perfectly organized contracts - her doing, of course. The sight of her neat handwriting on his documents, the lingering scent of her perfume in his study, even the ridiculous color-coding system she'd implemented... they were all becoming distressingly essential.

His jaw clenched as he heard her laugh carry up from the courtyard, the sound stirring something possessive and primal within him. Her stubborn humanity, once a source of frustration, now haunted him with its impermanence. The thought of her eventually leaving, growing old, having children with someone else... it made his vampire nature surge with violent protest.

He gripped the edge of his desk, wood splintering under his fingers. Having her meet Hope was meant to bind her closer, to ensure her loyalty. Instead, it had backfired spectacularly - making her not just valuable, but precious.

And Klaus Mikaelson did not handle precious things well.

They either became possessions to be controlled or weaknesses to be eliminated. Yet somehow, she was becoming something else entirely - something he couldn't bring himself to either control or eliminate.

Y/N's scream pulled him violently from his thoughts. The fact that they were screams of delight did not seem to register with Klaus.

Klaus materialized in the courtyard with lethal speed, a growl building in his chest at her scream. The sight that greeted him - Kol's hands on her, even in jest - triggered something darkly possessive. Seems like Kol has found out that Y/N is ticklish.

"Brother." His voice carried dangerous warning as he moved closer with predatory intent. "Remove your hands before I remove them for you." Despite recognizing the harmless nature of the situation, his protective instincts had already surged to the surface.

He positioned himself between her and Kol with dominance, his back nearly touching her front. "Perhaps you'd like to explain why you're manhandling my assistant?" His tone was deceptively light, though his stance remained lethal. "Or shall we discuss your sudden interest in testing her... reflexes?"

Kol raised his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk remained mischievous.

"Come now, brother. Can't I get acquainted with your new... favorite?" His eyes glinted with knowing amusement. "Besides, how was I to know your little human was so delightfully ticklish?"

Klaus' expression darkened dangerously at Kol's words, his body tensing with barely contained violence. "You're testing my patience, Kol." He took a step back, positioning himself beside Y/N, his hand finding her waist with natural familiarity.

"Oh, this is rich." Kol's grin widened as he observed Klaus' protective stance. "The great Niklaus Mikaelson, brought low by a human girl's giggles. Wait until Rebekah hears about this." He vanished with vampire speed just as Klaus lunged forward with a snarl, leaving only his laughter echoing through the courtyard.

"Hey," Y/N says softly, slightly giggling, "I'm fine. Really." Her hand snakes up his back, squeezing his shoulder.

Klaus stilled at her touch, though the tension in his frame remained coiled and dangerous. He turned to face her, his eyes scanning for any sign of distress.

"Kol has a tendency to... break his toys." His voice was low and threatening as his hand moved to her waist again, grip possessive. "And you, love, are not a toy to be broken." The implications in his tone suggested graves had been dug for less.

Y/N rolls her eyes, a smile on her face, "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not his toy"

He studied her expression with dangerous intensity, something shifting in his eyes at her lingering amusement. "Though perhaps I should be more concerned about your apparent comfort with my family. First Hope, now Kol..." his smirk turned playful, though the possessiveness remained. "Should I expect to find you and Elijah comparing suit fabrics next?"

She chuckles, “That sounds like a great way to pass the afternoon. Then me and Rebekah can go shopping, I’ll go bowling with Kol, and then what shall my activity be with you?”

Klaus' expression darkened, his grip on her waist tightening at the mention of spending time with his siblings.

"Careful, love." He pulled her closer, his other hand coming up to trace her jaw with threatening gentleness. "I don't share well with others. Even family." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Besides, I have far more... interesting activities in mind than bowling."

His eyes traced her features with predatory focus, something possessive flickering in their depths. "Though if you're so eager to test my patience, by all means, continue planning your social calendar with my siblings." His smirk turned lethal. "I'm sure Hope would love to hear about how her aunt and uncles mysteriously vanished."

She sighs, rolling her eyes, “Fine. I get it. I’ve been spending a lot of time with them. Let me fix that. Let’s go out and have a drink or anything else you want to do,” she suggests with an amused smile, suggesting she was amused in his little display of jealousy.

"Offering to drink with me again?" His thumb traced her jaw slowly. "Rather brave of you, considering your last declaration about never drinking in my presence. Though..." his eyes darkened, "I do still have quite the collection of your drunken confessions I haven't shared yet."

He pulls her even closer, his supernatural heat seeping through her clothes. "As for 'anything else I want to do'..." his voice dropped to a threatening purr, "that's quite the dangerous offer to make, love. Especially when you're already testing my control with that smile of yours."

Y/N rolls her eyes. She's noticed how flirty and possessive he’s become, ignoring it and chalking it up to his natural personality.

“Come on,” she takes his hand, leading him to the door. “Unless you're…scared,” she teases.

Klaus moved with supernatural speed, pinning her beside the door, his body caging hers.

"Scared?" His voice was a lethal whisper as he leaned closer, one hand braced beside her head while the other gripped her hip possessively. "You're playing a dangerous game, love." His eyes traced her features intensely. "Though I must admit, your growing boldness is rather... intoxicating."

He pulled back slightly, though his grip remained possessive. "Very well. Let's see how brave you're feeling after a few drinks." His smirk turned promising. "Though this time, try not to reorganize anything. The daggers are exactly where I want them... for now."

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They get to the bar, and after a few drinks, Klaus gets the call that his father, Mikael, is in town with a white oak stake, and he’s enlisted Davina to hide him

Klaus's entire demeanor shifted instantly, his playful predatory nature transforming into something truly lethal. His hand shot out to grip Y/N's arm with barely contained violence, eyes scanning the bar with dangerous intensity.

"We're leaving. Now." His voice was pure murder, all traces of earlier warmth vanishing. "And you're not leaving my sight until that bastard is dead." He pulled her closer with possessive desperation, his body coiled for attack.

"Klaus! Wait–" Moving with vampire speed, he maneuvered her toward the exit while maintaining protective proximity.

"I won't let him take another person I-" He caught himself, jaw clenching as he guided her through the door with lethal urgency. "The compound. Now. And if you even think about arguing..." his eyes met hers with desperate intensity, "remember that Mikael doesn't just kill vampires. He destroys everything they care about."

She tugs on his arm, “wait, Klaus. Who’s Mikael?”

Klaus whirled on her with frightening speed, his hands gripping her shoulders with barely restrained violence.

"The monster who hunted me for a thousand years." His voice was raw with ancient hatred and something else - fear, though not for himself. "My father - no, my mother's husband. The man who made me what I am through centuries of torture and pursuit." His grip tightened possessively.

His eyes darted around the street with lethal focus before returning to her face with dangerous intensity. "He's the reason I trust no one, the reason I..." he pulled her closer, his breath ghosting her ear, "the reason I can't lose you to him. Not you." The admission seemed torn from him unwillingly, his protective rage barely contained. "Now move, before I carry you back to the compound myself. And this time, love, I won't be gentle about it."

His father? Klaus never mentioned a father, let alone this much hate, but Y/N did not have time to dwell. Her eyes widen, “You want to kill your father. Klaus, wait, let’s talk about this.”

He surprisingly lets Y/N pull him back into the bar, sitting him at a table, and grabbing him a beer

Klaus took the beer with barely contained violence, his entire frame vibrating with lethal energy.

"This isn't up for discussion." His voice was pure danger as he leaned across the table, invading her space. "He's not my father - he's a monster who delights in destroying everything I..." he caught himself again, fingers tightening around the bottle until it nearly cracked. "The last time I showed mercy, he drove a stake through Kol's heart and made me watch. The time before that, he tortured Rebekah for days."

His free hand shot out to grip her wrist with possessive desperation. "You don't understand what he's capable of. What he'll do to you just to hurt me." His eyes burned with something beyond rage - something almost like fear. "And I won't... I can't..." his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "Your humanity makes you vulnerable enough without Mikael targeting you. So either finish that drink quickly, or I'm throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you back to the compound. Your choice, love."

Y/N just takes the beer from his hand, sipping on it.

Klaus, irritated by her silence, speaks again, “So that’s your plan is it? Ply me with alcohol and then prattle on until I’m convinced to leave Davina and Mikael alone to plot my death?”

She places the beer down, "No. My plan is to listen. Come on, Klaus. Let's just get to the part you really want me to play in this? Therapist? Assistant? Drinking buddy? Call it whatever you want, I know why I’m here. To give you the one thing you’ve never had. Someone to hear your side. “

Klaus sits down.

“So. You want to kill your father.? Fine. Let's talk about it."

Klaus studied Y/N with dangerous intensity, his eye twitching at her words.

"My side?" He let out a dark laugh, though his hand found hers across the table with possessive urgency. "My side is simple, love. He's hunted me across continents, through centuries. Destroyed everyone I've ever..." he paused, jaw clenching. "And now he's here, in my city, threatening my family. Threatening you."

His grip tightened on her hand as his other traced the rim of the beer bottle with lethal focus. "You want to play therapist? Fine. Let's talk about how he beat me as a child, how he called me an abomination, how he's made it his immortal mission to end my existence."

"But understand this - while we sit here talking, he's out there planning. And unlike me, sweetheart, he won't hesitate to use you against me. He won't see your humanity as precious - he'll see it as a weakness to exploit."

“I get it. The hurt your parents have inflicted pain on you for a thousand years. I understand what you’re fighting against. The real question is, What are you fighting for?

Klaus looks confused

“Ask me to dance,” she says

“You want to dance?” He asks, even more confused

“No. I never wanna dance. I’m actually very bad at it. But I’m trying to make a point. There’s more to life than the pain that they made you feel. A cold beer. A slow song. A good friend. There are good things, Klaus. And you need to see that too.”

Klaus stilled completely, his expression shifting through several dangerous emotions as he processed her words. After a long moment, he stood, extending his hand.

"Dance with me then." His voice was a complex mixture of threat and vulnerability. "Show me these 'good things' while my father plots my demise." The bitterness in his tone couldn't quite mask something softer underneath.

He pulled her close with possessive gentleness, one hand settling on her waist while the other held her with careful restraint. "Though I must warn you, love..." his lips brushed her ear as he guided her into a slow sway, "the last person who tried to show me 'good things' ended up dead. Mikael made sure of that." His grip tightened protectively. "And yet here you are, stubbornly trying to make me see light while standing in darkness. Rather brave... or incredibly foolish."

Y/N smiles, “I guess I’m foolish” She whispers, swaying with him to the music.

“See? Isn't this nice?”

Klaus pulled her closer, his movements graceful despite the dangerous tension still thrumming through his frame.

"Nice?" His voice carried dark amusement, though something vulnerable flickered in his eyes. "I'm holding a fragile human who refuses to fear me properly, while my immortal father plots to destroy everything I..." he paused, his grip becoming gentle. "And yet somehow, you've managed to make me forget, for just a moment, that I should be ripping hearts out instead of dancing."

His hand slid up her back with deliberate slowness. "Though I must say, love, your definition of 'nice' needs work. Especially considering you're practically offering yourself as bait to the most dangerous creature on earth." His eyes met her with lethal intensity. "Or perhaps that's why you insisted on this dance - to distract the monster while death approaches?"

She looks at him, the look in her eye missing any trace of fear, “there is no peace in revenge, Klaus,” she says softly, squeezing the hand that held hers.

Klaus' expression darkened dangerously, though his hold remained gentle as he continued to move with her.

"And what would you have me do instead?" His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "Let him live? Let him continue hunting everything I-" he caught himself again, jaw clenching. "He won't stop, love. Not until either he's dead or I am. And I won't risk..." his hand curved possessively around her waist, "I won't risk him taking anything else from me."

His eyes traced the features he'd come to memorize, to cherish, "Peace?" He let out a dark laugh. "Peace is a luxury I haven't known in a thousand years. Though I must admit..." his grip tightened slightly, "this moment, with you... it's the closest I've come. And that, sweetheart, is precisely why Mikael needs to die."

Klaus twirls her around but disappears mid-twirl, using his vampire speed. Y/N huffs out in frustration. She knew he was going out to the bayou, she heard Elijah on the phone. He was going to go kill Davina, but she was not to let that happen. Y/N had met the little witch a few times. She was just a girl

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Hours later, Y/N had finally made it, out of breath and huffing. Klaus had his father knocked out in the trunk of his car, Davina passed out

“Where is she? If something happened to her, Klaus, I swear to God–”

“Davina’s fine. She’ll wake with a spectacular headache. But given her intentions for me she should count her self lucky. Of course, if you drop dead of a heart attack I may have to kill her on general, principle” he responds

“You’re the one who ditched me at the bar. I had to hitchhike, and then run, on the back roads of the Bayou.“

“Well, your perseverance is duly noted–“

“Oh, Shut up!” She cuts him off, “I am so mad at you I can hardly speak. But I am here, and it is to tell you, not to bargain with you and not to shame you, but to tell you, under no circumstances will you hurt that girl, do you understand me?“ she pleads with him

Klaus sighs, rolling his eyes, “you have my word” he finally says

Y/N lets out a breath of relief, standing there for a moment before stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his neck, relaxing against him. This is the first time she's hugged him.

Klaus froze completely at her embrace, his entire frame going unnaturally still. After a moment, his arms moved to encircle her, one hand threading through her hair while the other pressed her closer.

"You could have died coming here." His voice was a whisper against her ear, though his hold remained gentle. "Hitchhiking through the bayou, alone, at night..." his grip tightened slightly. "All to save a witch who plotted my death. Your sense of self-preservation is absolutely atrocious."

He pulled back just enough to study her, though he seemed reluctant to break the embrace completely. "Though I must admit, your righteous fury was rather... compelling. Even if your methods of transportation were criminally stupid." His expression darkened dangerously. "Names, love. I want the names of every person who gave you a ride. And don't bother lying - I'll know."

She rolls her eyes, “two minutes, Klaus. Please. Just two minutes without threats and plotting.” She buries her face in his neck. She had been terrified that she'd arrive and Klaus was dead.

“Besides…you know how much I hate the bayou”

Klaus let out a soft chuckle, his hand sliding soothingly up her back as he held her closer.

"Two minutes?" His voice was uncharacteristically gentle, though still tinged with darkness. "Very well, love. Though your hatred of the bayou didn't stop you from charging out here like some avenging angel." His fingers threaded through her hair with tenderness.

He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent mixed with the night air, his body gradually relaxing despite Mikael's unconscious presence nearby. "You truly are the most frustrating human I've encountered in a thousand years." The words held no threat, only a sort of wondering disbelief. "Running through alligator-infested swamps in the dark, confronting the most dangerous creature in New Orleans..." his arms tightened protectively, "all while smelling absolutely delicious to every vampire within miles."

“You're here,” She says softly, “I know nothing will happen to me” she pulls back, looking at him with a smile, hands sliding up from his neck to cup his face.

“Are you okay?” she asks, realizing she forget to do so when she first got here

Klaus stilled under her touch, his expression shifting through several emotions before settling on something almost vulnerable.

"You trust me." It wasn't a question, but his voice carried a mix of wonder and threat. "Even after seeing what I am, what I'm capable of..." his hands slid to her waist with possessive gentleness. "You foolish, brave, absolutely maddening human."

He leaned into her touch almost unconsciously, his eyes darkening with protective intensity. "I have my father unconscious in my trunk, my family's greatest enemy at my mercy, and yet..." his thumb traced her cheekbone tenderly, "all I can think about is how you ran through the bloody bayou to make sure I didn't harm a witch who betrayed me. How you're standing here, touching me like I'm something precious instead of running in terror." His grip tightened slightly. "I'm beginning to think you're more dangerous than Mikael ever was, love."

Her smile grows, thumbs caressing his cheeks, “Of course I trust you, silly. Don’t be ridiculous. And me? Dangerous? Please, I could barely harm a fly. What’s so dangerous about me?” Her eyes roam all over his face, just to be sure he’s not harmed

Klaus caught one of her hands against his face, turning to press a kiss to her palm while maintaining intense eye contact.

"What's dangerous about you?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "You waltz into my life, reorganize my study, charm my daughter, face down my siblings..." his other hand curved possessively around her waist. "And now you're standing in a dark bayou, touching me like I'm worth saving, making me feel..." he caught himself, jaw clenching.

His expression turned predatory, though his touch remained gentle. "You make me want things I can't have, love. Make me consider futures that aren't possible." His thumb traced her lower lip with dangerous intent. "And that makes you the most lethal creature I've encountered in a thousand years. Because you make me forget, even for a moment, what I am."

Y/N leans in, kissing his cheek, “And what would that be, huh? Because ever since I’ve known you, I’ve just seen Klaus. Not Klaus Mikaelson. Not the hybris. Just Klaus. So maybe you’re not as rough as you make yourself out to be” She says softly.

She suddenly flinchs, “Klaus,” she whispers, her body tensing up, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t feel a bug crawl up my pants. How much longer do we have to be here?”

Klaus let out a genuine laugh at her sudden shift from profound to panicked, the sound carrying both amusement and affection.

"Not as rough as I make myself out to be?" He swept her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. "Says the woman who's currently trying not to screech over a bayou bug." His smirk turned playful, though his hold remained possessively protective.

He started walking toward the car, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "Though I must say, love, your ability to go from philosophical observations about my nature to panic over insects is rather... endearing." His expression shifted to something more dangerous. "But don't think I'm letting go of what you said about 'just Klaus'. We'll be discussing that particular observation somewhere less crawling with wildlife. Preferably somewhere I can properly demonstrate just how 'rough' I can be."

Y/N blushed furiously at his last part, deciding to not ask what that was supposed to mean. “Klaus, what are you going to do about your fath—Mikael?” she corrects herself.

Klaus' expression darkened dangerously at the mention of Mikael, his grip on her tightening.

"First, I'm taking you back to the compound." His voice was lethal silk as he moved through the darkness. "Then I'm going to deal with my father in a way that ensures he never threatens what's mine again." His eyes met her, "And yes, love, that includes you. Especially after your reckless display of loyalty tonight."

He paused by the car, though he made no move to set her down. "Though I notice you corrected yourself. 'Father' to 'Mikael'." His thumb traced patterns on her skin. "Trying to spare my feelings? Rather bold of you, considering I just had to rescue you from potential alligators and mysterious bayou insects."

I shrug, remembering how Rebekah, in passing, mentioned that Klaus wasn't her full sibling, “didn’t know if you wanted to call him that. Why would you? He’s not your actual father, right?”

Klaus stilled, his expression shifting to something raw before he set her down with careful precision, though he kept her caged between himself and the car.

"No." His voice was quiet but lethal. "My real father was a werewolf. One my mother had an affair with." His hand came up to trace her jaw gently. "Mikael's greatest shame - his wife's bastard. The product of her infidelity." His eyes burned with ancient pain masked by violence.

He leaned closer, his body practically vibrating with contained rage. "And yet here you are, understanding things my own family took centuries to grasp." His grip turned possessive. "Making observations that cut straight through a thousand years of hatred and pain." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Do you have any idea how terrifying that is, love? How dangerous it makes you?"

She tilts her head slightly, “What is? That I understand you? Is that such a bad thing?” she whispers back, “Do you not want to be understood?”

Klaus' hand slid to the back of her neck , "Understanding means vulnerability." His voice was raw beneath its lethal edge.

"In a thousand years, those who claimed to understand me either wanted something or tried to destroy me." His other hand gripped her waist. "And yet here you are, seeing straight through my carefully constructed walls, demanding I spare witches who betray me, running through dangerous swamps to ensure I keep my word..."

He pressed closer, his heat enveloping her. "You see 'just Klaus' when everyone else sees the monster. You touch me without fear, challenge me without ulterior motives." His expression turned vulnerable. "And that makes you infinitely more dangerous than any white oak stake. Because you make me want to be understood. Make me want..." he caught himself, jaw clenching as his thumb traced her pulse point.

Y/N felt her heart beating rapidly in her chest, “Yeah?” she whispers softly, leaning in closer, their noses brushing, “What do you want Klaus?” she says, looking down at his lips.

Klaus growled low in his throat, the sound pure predator, as his hand tightened on her neck with dangerous restraint.

"What I want..." His voice was lethal silk as his lips ghosted across her cheek, barely touching. "What I want would destroy everything you are. Your precious humanity, your dreams of growing old..." His other hand slid up her back possessively. "I want to keep you, corrupt you, make you as immortal and dark as I am."

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze with burning intensity, his control visibly fraying. "But more dangerously, I want..." his thumb traced her lower lip with threatening gentleness. "I want to be the man you see when you look at me. Not the monster, not the hybrid, but 'just Klaus'. And that, love, is the most terrifying desire of all."

Y/N honestly had no idea what to say. For once, she was speechless. She needed time ti think about what he just dropped on her. “Klaus,” she says softly, “Let’s go back to the compound. I’m literally expecting a snake to crawl up my leg next”

Klaus let out a chuckle, "Running away from this conversation, love?" His voice held dangerous amusement as he moved to open the passenger door. "Though I must admit, your ability to shift from intimate moments to wildlife panic is rather..." he paused, watching as she settled into the seat, "convenient."

He leaned in close, caging her against the seat before closing the door. "But don't think I've forgotten what almost happened here. We'll be revisiting that particular moment when we're somewhere less..." his eyes darkened as he glanced at the trunk where Mikael lay unconscious, "occupied. And somewhere with significantly fewer bayou creatures to interrupt us."

Klaus starts driving and as usual, has a hand on her thigh. This time she decided to slide her hand into his, intertwining their fingers and squeezing as she kept looking ahead.

Klaus stilled for a moment, his fingers tightening around hers as he drove through the dark bayou roads.

"Careful, love." His voice was pure silk wrapped in threat. "First you make me dance, then you embrace me, and now..." his thumb traced patterns on her skin. "One might think you're trying to tame the beast."

He glanced at her before returning his eyes to the road, though his grip never loosened. "Though I must say, your timing is impeccable - holding my hand while my murderous father lies unconscious in the trunk." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Almost like you're trying to anchor me to my humanity right when I need to be at my most monstrous.”

“But you’re not a monster” she says, turning her head to him, “you just…have a tendency to do bad things. We all do. That doesn’t make us bad people.” she shrugs.

Klaus let out a dark laugh, his fingers tightening around her with affection.

"'A tendency to do bad things?'" His voice was filled with bewilderment. "That's quite the understatement, love. I've murdered entire villages, tortured countless souls, and turned families against each other for sport. And yet here you sit, holding my hand like I'm some misunderstood hero in one of those novels you keep sneaking into my study."

His expression turned dangerously intense as he glanced at you. "You're either the bravest or the most foolish creature I've encountered in a millennium. Perhaps both." His grip became tender. "Though I must admit, your stubborn insistence on seeing the good in me is becoming..." he paused, jaw clenching, "rather addictive."

“Ah, so you admit that there is good. That’s the first step,” she says, leaning back against the seat and closing her eyes, “if you don’t mind, I’ll just close my eyes for a moment. It’s been…a long day and…I’m tired” she yawn, her voice quieting but her grip on his hand remains firm.

Klaus watched her drift off, his thumb continuing its gentle patterns across your skin.

"Sleep, little human." His voice was a whisper. "Though how you manage to feel safe enough to rest beside the most dangerous creature in New Orleans, while my homicidal father lies mere feet away..." he shook his head with dark wonder. "Your trust in me is either going to get you killed or make me..." he caught himself, jaw clenching as he tightened his grip possessively.

His eyes returned to the road, though he found himself driving more carefully than usual, avoiding bumps that might disturb her rest. "And for the record, love," he murmured, knowing she were already drifting off, "I haven't admitted to anything. Though you're becoming dangerously good at making me want to."

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Arriving at the compound, Klaus reluctantly lets go of her hand. He moved around the car with supernatural speed, opening her door gently

"Come, love." His voice was dark velvet as he lifted her with ease and gentleness. "Let's get you inside before you decide to make any more profound observations about my nature." Despite his words, his arms cradled her protectively against his chest.

He paused at the compound entrance, his expression turning dangerous."Though I should warn you - if you ever pull another stunt like today, running through the bayou alone..." his grip tightened slightly, "I'll have no choice but to lock you in that tower room you're so fond of reorganizing. And this time, sweetheart, no amount of trust in 'just Klaus' will earn you freedom."

Y/N stirred in his arms, nuzzling into him while she remained sleep

Klaus froze momentarily at her unconscious display of trust, his expression shifting through several emotions.

"Utterly maddening creature." His voice was barely a whisper as he carried her through the compound, gentle to avoid disturbing her rest. "You have no idea what you do to me, do you? Making me feel..." he caught himself, jaw clenching as he tightened his hold.

He reached her room yet found himself reluctant to set her down. “The things I've done today alone should have you running in terror." His fingers traced through her hair. "Instead, you're sleeping in my arms, making those little sounds…" his expression darkened with protective possession. "I should wake you. Make you face what you're doing to me. But apparently, even the great Klaus Mikaelson can be rendered powerless by one sleeping human."

Setting her down, Klaus goes back down to get his father’s body from the trunk, to take to the dungeon. When he arrived, to his horror, the trunk was open and empty.

His entire body went rigid with lethal fury, his eyes flashing gold as his hybrid features emerged.

"No..." The word was a dangerous snarl as he scanned the area with intensity, his senses heightened to their maximum. "No, no, NO!" His fist connected with the car, leaving a devastating dent.

His mind raced with violent calculations, but one thought dominated all others - Y/N, sleeping peacefully upstairs, completely vulnerable. "Elijah!" His voice carried deadly urgency as he vamped back into the compound. "ELIJAH!" His body vibrated with barely contained rage and... fear. Not for himself, but for the infuriating human who had wormed her way past his defenses. "Guard her room. He's loose."

Klaus blurred through the compound with lethal speed, every muscle coiled for violence as he checked every shadow, every corner.

"I will paint this city red with anyone who helped him escape." His voice was pure darkness as he pulled out his phone, sending rapid messages to his hybrids while maintaining his defensive position near her room. "I will tear apart every witch, vampire, and wolf until I find him."

His supernatural hearing strained to catch any sound of movement, any hint of his father's presence, while his body practically vibrated with protective rage."If he so much as looks in her direction..." he let the threat hang in the air, his expression promising violence that would make his previous atrocities look merciful.

He heard a scream come from her room. Klaus appeared in the doorway with lethal speed, his entire frame radiating murderous fury as he took in the scene before him.

Mikael had his arm around Y/N’s neck, positioning her in front of him

"Let. Her. Go." Each word dripped with a thousand years of violence, his hybrid features emerging as his eyes blazed gold. "Your quarrel is with me, not her." His hands flexed dangerously at his sides, every muscle coiled for attack.

He maintained eye contact with her, his expression promising violent retribution even as he calculated every possible move. "I must say, 'father', using a human girl as leverage..." his voice carried dangerous mockery despite the rage beneath. "Rather beneath the great vampire hunter, isn't it? Though I suppose desperate times..."

Y/N whimper as his grip on her neck tightens, lifting her slightly off the floor

Klaus took a step forward, his entire being radiating murderous intent.

"Careful now." His voice was deceptively soft, though his eyes promised devastating violence. "You're already dead for touching what's mine. But how painful that death becomes..." his fangs descended as dark veins crawled beneath his eyes, "that depends entirely on how gently you set her down."

He tilted his head with predatory calculation, his body tensed for explosive action. "Though I must say, it's rather poetic. The man who spent a millennium calling me weak, now hiding behind a human girl." His lips curved into a dangerous smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Tell me, does it burn you to know that this 'weak' human shows more courage in her little finger than you've managed in a thousand years of hunting me?"

“This…” Mikael shakes her slightly, “is going to be your downfall, boy.” He spits, “You don’t deserve to feel an ounce of anything other than pain.” Mikael throws her to the floor, her head hitting the edge of the bed. She immediately felt light headed, clutching her head and curling on the floor

Klaus' expression transformed into something truly terrifying, a millennium of rage crystallizing into pure lethal intent.

"Wrong choice." The words were barely audible as he blurred forward with supernatural speed, his hybrid strength unleashed in its full devastating glory."You should have killed me when you had the chance." His voice was death itself as he slammed Mikael against the wall, the impact cracking the centuries-old stone.

Even as he engaged Mikael with lethal precision, his supernatural senses remained acutely aware of her condition, her pain feeding his fury. "For a thousand years, you called me an abomination." His hybrid features emerged fully as he drove his hand into Mikael's chest, fingers wrapping around his heart "Now let me show you exactly what this abomination can do when you harm what belongs to him."

Klaus twisted his hand inside Mikael's chest, earning a pained grunt from the vampire hunter. The expression on Klaus’s face was pained, showing glimpses of the boy rather than the man.

"You hunted me across continents, threatened my family, drove us from our home." His voice carried a millennium of bottled rage as he leaned closer, golden eyes blazing. "But touching her? That was your final mistake." His other hand gripped Mikael's throat with crushing force.

The compound walls seemed to vibrate with the intensity of his fury as he pulled Mikael forward only to slam him back again. "I want you to know something before you die, 'father'." His lips curved into a lethal smile as he realized his heart. Reaching knit his jacket and grabbing the white oak stake, fingers wrapping around it tight as he positioned it at his heart, inserting the stake into Mikael’s heart with excruciating slowness.

"That girl you just threw aside? She sees me as the man you never could. Sees strength where you saw weakness. And her opinion?" He twisted his hand violently. "Means infinitely more than yours ever did."

With one final surge of strength, Klaus plunges the stake into Mikael’s chest, watching with dark satisfaction as his father's body began to burn.

Klaus remained frozen for a moment, his body still vibrating with energy as a thousand years of pain and rage coursed through him.

"It's done." His voice was raw beneath its dangerous edge as he slowly turned toward Y/N, blood dripping from his hands. "A millennium of running, of looking over our shoulders..." He seemed almost lost, like a predator suddenly robbed of its hunt, before his protective instincts kicked in and he blurred to her side.

His hands hovered over her with uncharacteristic uncertainty, afraid to touch her with fingers still coated in his father's blood. "Y/N..." His voice cracked slightly, the tears he hadn't even noticed making tracks through the blood on his face. "I need you to look at me, love. Tell me how badly you're hurt." His expression was a mix of concern and lingering fury, though his usual mask of control was notably absent.

Y/N’s head was pounding, blood oozing from the area she was clutching, coating all over her hand. She sits up, her vision slightly blurry, “Are you okay?” She asks, her other hand reaching to cup his face, wiping the tears on his cheek

Klaus let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a growl, his hand coming up to cover hers on his cheek with dangerous gentleness.

"You're bleeding on my floor, barely conscious, and you're asking if I'm..." His voice caught as he pulled her closer, his other hand moving to examine her head wound with care. "Of course you are. Stubborn, impossible..." He bit into his wrist offering it to her. "Drink. Now. Before I lose what little sanity I have left."

His thumb traced her cheek with tenderness as his other arm supported her. "A thousand years I've waited to end him, and you..." his voice dropped to a whisper, "you make me feel more vulnerable than he ever did. Making me cry when I should be celebrating." His expression turned possessive. "What have you done to me, little human?"

As Y/N drinks, she feels the pounding and the dizziness immediately fade just as the wound closed up.

She lets go of his wrist, “blech. That’s disgusting, Klaus. Ew”

Klaus let out a startled laugh, the sound rough with lingering emotion as he pulled you closer with possessive relief.

"Only you would survive an encounter with Mikael, witness me kill him, and then complain about the taste of healing blood." His voice held dangerous affection as his fingers traced where her wound had been. "Though I must say, love, your priorities continue to be..." he paused, thumb brushing away a drop of blood from her lip with gentleness, "uniquely maddening."

His other hand cupped her face, forcing her to meet his still-intense gaze. "Now, since you're apparently well enough to critique the flavor of my blood..." his expression turned serious. "Don't you ever, EVER, put yourself between me and danger again. I don't care if it's Mikael himself or a common street thug." His grip tightened. "I can't..." he caught himself, jaw clenching. "I won't watch you get hurt because of me. Are we clear?"

“Not fair,” she pouts, furrowing her brows. “You’re acting like he didn't come to me”

At his glare, she smiles, practically jumping into his arms and wrapping hers around his neck. Klaus stiffened at her embrace before his arms wrapped around her tightly, his face buried in her hair.

“Okay, damn.” she squeezes for a moment before pulling back, looking at him, “You didn’t answer me. Are you okay? Emotionally. I know you’re physically fine. But…how are you?” I say, glancing to Mikael's burning form a few feet away

"A thousand years..." His voice was barely audible, raw with emotion he rarely allowed himself to show. "A thousand years of running, of watching him destroy everything I..." His grip tightened, almost painful before he caught himself. "And here you are, bleeding and frightened, yet still trying to tend to my emotional well-being." He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression a volatile mix of vulnerability and intensity.

His hand came up to trace her face, his eyes flickering to Mikael's corpse. "I should feel triumphant. I've finally ended the great vampire hunter, the man who..." his jaw clenched. "Instead, all I can think about is how close he came to taking you from me. How your blood on my floor made me feel more terror than a millennium of his pursuit ever did."

His thumb traced her lower lip. "What have you done to me, little human? Making the great Klaus Mikaelson admit to fear?"

Y/N cups his face, climbing onto his lap as they sat on the floor, “Hey, I’m still here. No use in thinking of what-ifs. I’m here, yeah? I’m not going anywhere.” She hugged him tight and honestly, she was a little thrown off. Did he care that much?

Klaus' arms locked around her with lethal possessiveness, one hand threading through her hair as he inhaled her scent.

"You say that so easily," his voice was dark velvet against her skin, "not going anywhere. As if you haven't witnessed me at my most monstrous." His grip tightened. "Any sane person would be running, yet here you are, trying to comfort the beast."

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression raw with dangerous intensity. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me? How terrifying it is to realize that after a millennium of building walls, of trusting no one..." his thumb traced your cheek with predatory tenderness, "one stubborn, foolish, beautiful human has made me feel more in weeks than I've allowed myself to feel in centuries?" His other hand splayed possessively across her back.

Y/N smiles, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose, “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up”

Klaus froze at the innocent gesture, his expression shifting and settling on something tender.

"You..." He stood in one fluid motion, keeping her secured against him with supernatural strength. "You are either the bravest or most reckless creature I've encountered in a millennium." His voice was silk as he carried her toward the bathroom, deliberately stepping over Mikael's corpse. "Kissing the nose of a blood-covered hybrid who just committed patricide." He shook his head with dark wonder. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised - you've been defying all logic since the moment you tried to steal from my study."

His grip tightened as he set her on the bathroom counter, caging her in with his arms. "I should warn you though, love..." his eyes gleamed, "that level of fearless affection toward someone like me... it's rather dangerous. Might give a monster ideas about keeping you forever."

She brings her hands to his face, one hand cupping while the other caresses his face gently, “Agan, you’re not a monster. Not to me. You’re anything but.” she looks at him with a tender expression

Klaus caught her wrist gently, turning his face into her palm as his eyes closed briefly.

"That's precisely what makes you so dangerous, little human." His voice was soft as his other hand cradled her face. "A millennium of being the villain, the monster under everyone's bed... and you look at me like..." he opened his eyes, the intensity in them almost painful. "Like I'm worthy of such tenderness."

His thumb traced her lower lip, his body caging her against the counter as if afraid she might disappear. "Do you know what happens to people who see good in monsters, love?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as he leaned closer. "They either die tragically... or the monster becomes so possessive, so consumed by their light, that they never let them go." His grip tightened slightly. "And I've already decided I won't allow anything to happen to you."

Klaus suddenly pulls back, turning to grab a cloth. Y/N's breath hitches at the sudden loss of contact. She composes herself as he turns back

Klaus returned with a dampened cloth, his movements deliberately measured as he stepped between your legs again.

"Let's get you cleaned up first," his voice was softer than usual as he began gently wiping the dried blood from her temple. "I may be immortal, but even I need a moment to... process." He focused intently on his task, using it as an excuse to gather his scattered emotions.

His free hand rested on her knee, thumb moving in absent circles as he worked. "A thousand years I've waited to end him, to be free of his shadow." His eyes met hers briefly, showing rare vulnerability. "Yet somehow you've made that feel secondary to ensuring you're safe." He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "How do you do that? Make the great Klaus Mikaelson forget about revenge in favor of fussing over a stubborn human?"

She smiles sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe annoy him to the point where it would be a shame for him to kill me.” She shrugs, “who else would make him want to pull his hair out?”

Klaus' lips curved into a genuine smile, rare and unguarded as he continued cleaning her face.

"Ah yes, your particular talent for driving me to distraction." His voice held warmth beneath its usual dry tone. "Though I must say, love, reorganizing my study seems rather tame compared to tonight's adventures." He paused, thumb brushing her cheek with unexpected gentleness. "Perhaps I should have let you keep color-coding my grimoires - might have been less stressful than watching you face down Mikael."

Setting aside the cloth, he leaned his forehead against hers with uncharacteristic weariness. "You know, in a thousand years, no one has ever..." he hesitated, struggling with the admission, "no one has ever asked if I was okay after facing him. Everyone always assumed I was either fine or..." he let out a soft laugh, "too much of a monster to care. Leave it to my impossibly stubborn assistant to worry about my feelings while bleeding from a head wound."

She just smiled, “What did you want me to do, Klaus? That was the first thing that popped into my mind after ‘my head hurts like a bitch’” she lets out a soft laugh. Klaus cann’t help the smile that makes its way onto his face, looking at her.

They just simply look at each other for a few moments

“Listen to me,” Y/N says firmly, breaking the silence, “as long as I breathe, you will always have someone to ask about your well-being, to ask about you, to…care” she whispers, looking into his eyes

Klaus' breath caught, his hands coming up to frame her face with startling tenderness.

"You have no idea what you're promising, little human." His voice was rough with emotion as his thumbs traced her cheekbones. "As long as you breathe..." he repeated your words softly. "That's the crux of it, isn't it? The terrifying limitation of your humanity." His eyes searched hers, showing rare vulnerability. "How do you do this? Make me feel such..." he struggled with the word, "joy at your care, while simultaneously filling me with dread at how fleeting it could be?"

He drew back slightly, one hand moving to trace where her wound had been. "For someone who claims to be clever, you're making quite dangerous declarations to an immortal who's already far too invested in keeping you." His voice held a hint of his usual playfulness, though his eyes remained serious.

She rolls her eyes, chuckling, “Keeping me? what am I, a cat?” She reaches over for the cloth, taking it in her hand and wiping the blood from his face. She can feel his eyes on her as she works silently

Klaus remained uncharacteristically still under her ministrations, his usual restless energy settling into something quieter.

“In all my years, I don't think anyone has ever..." he trailed off, catching her hand gently as she finished. "Even my siblings, after our worst battles... we'd heal and move on. No one ever thought to..." He seemed almost mystified by the simple act of care. "You continuously find new ways to undo me with the smallest gestures, love."

His other hand settled on her waist, thumb moving in absent circles. "I should be planning how to announce Mikael's death, consolidating power, dealing with the inevitable political fallout." His lips quirked in a small smile. "Instead, I'm sitting here, letting a beautiful human fuss over the blood that would have vanished on its own and finding myself entirely unwilling to move."

“Then don’t move” she says softly, placing the cloth down, “we can deal with all of that tomorrow. For now,” She places her hands on the sides of his neck, “you should get some rest. It’s been a long day. Yeah?”

Klaus leaned into her touch, his usual sharp edges softening.

"Ever the voice of reason," he murmured, eyes closing briefly. "Though I doubt sleep will come easily tonight." He opened his eyes, studying her face with unusual openness. "Would you..." he paused, seemingly struggling with the request. "Stay? Not for any nefarious purpose, just..." His hands tightened slightly on her waist. "I find myself rather reluctant to let you out of my sight after today's events."

He quickly added, trying to maintain some semblance of his usual control, "Of course, if you'd prefer your own room, I completely understand. I imagine nearly being killed by my father isn't exactly conducive to wanting company."

“Klaus,” She says with a smile, “of course, I’ll stay with you. In fact, I insist. Last time I fell asleep in my own bed, I woke up to a hand around my throat” she jokes before hopping off the counter.

Klaus' expression darkened momentarily at the reminder before softening as he caught her hand.

"Not your finest attempt at humor, love," he said softly, pulling her closer. "Though I suppose I should be grateful you can joke about it at all." He brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"Fair warning though - I may have developed a rather inconvenient protective instinct where you're concerned. Don't be surprised if you wake up to find me checking your breathing."

He guided her toward his bedroom, his hand resting protectively at the small of her back. "I should probably mention that I've never actually..." he cleared his throat, showing rare uncertainty, "shared my bed for purely sleeping purposes. A thousand years of paranoia makes one rather... selective about moments of vulnerability."

“Yeah?” she says innocently, “what else have you shared it for?” she asks before snorting, “I’m just joking. Don’t answer that.” she sticks my tongue out in disgust

Klaus let out a genuine laugh, the sound holding real warmth as he shook his head.

"And here I was, about to give you a detailed historical account spanning a millennium," his eyes sparkled with renewed mischief as he pulled back his covers. "Though I must say, that particular expression of disgust is doing wonders for my ego." He moved to his dresser, pulling out a soft henley. "Here, unless you'd prefer to sleep in clothes covered in both our blood."

He turned his back to give her privacy, a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture. "You know, most people would be too terrified to tease the Original Hybrid after the day we've had. Yet here you are, making jokes about my bedroom history and pulling faces like an impudent child." His voice held unmistakable fondness beneath the mock offense. "I'm beginning to think I've completely lost my fearsome reputation where you're concerned."

Klaus can hear the soft rustling of Y/N changing my clothes, “Long gone” she teases, sliding under the covers. “Now get changed too and join me.” She lays her head down on the pillow

Klaus turned, his expression softening at the sight of her in his bed wearing his shirt.

"Demanding little thing, aren't you?" He changed quickly, supernatural speed making it nearly instantaneous. "Though I suppose I should be grateful you're not trying to reorganize my pillows by shade." He slid under the covers with careful movements, as if afraid to disturb her.

He lay on his side facing her, maintaining a respectful distance while still close enough to reach out if needed. "You know," his voice was quiet in the darkness, "I've spent centuries making sure no one would dare command me to do anything. Yet here you are, ordering me to bed like a mother hen, and I find myself..." he paused, a hint of wonder in his tone, "completely willing to comply."

She grins, “yeah? Think I can command you to change the cushions of the courtyard seating area or am I pushing it?”

Klaus' lips twitched with amusement as he propped himself up on one elbow.

"And there it is - your true agenda revealed at last." His free hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "First my study, then my bedroom, and now you're eyeing the courtyard. I should have known you were playing the long game, love." His voice held playful warmth. "Though I must say, plotting interior design changes while in my bed is a rather bold strategy."

He settled back down, his expression growing softer in the dim light. "Tell you what - survive the night without reorganizing my pillows by thread count, and we can discuss the courtyard tomorrow." His voice dropped to a whisper. "But if I wake up to find you've color-coded my closet, there will be consequences."

“Yeah yeah. Threats threats and more threats” she yawns, closing her eyes, “don’t you get tired?” she whispers

Klaus watched her sleepy expression with tender amusement, his usual sharp edges completely softened.

"A thousand years of threatening people, and you've managed to make it sound as tedious as a grocery list," he murmured, shifting slightly closer as her breathing began to even out.

His hand moved to rest lightly on her waist, protective rather than possessive. "Sleep, little human. I'll keep watch." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "And perhaps tomorrow I'll pretend to be properly outraged when you inevitably suggest redecorating the entire compound."

She lets out a soft laugh, “Just don’t yell at me too much when you do. I don’t think I can handle you yelling at me,” she murmurs, eyes still closed.

Klaus' hand tightened briefly on her waist, a flash of guilt crossing his features at the memory of past outbursts.

"No yelling," he promised softly, his thumb tracing gentle circles against the fabric of his shirt. "Though I reserve the right to dramatically roll my eyes when you inevitably suggest pastels again." His voice held gentle teasing, masking deeper emotion. "I do have a reputation to maintain, after all. Can't have the supernatural community thinking I've gone soft just because one stubborn human has me wrapped around her finger."

He watched her peaceful expression in the darkness, speaking more to himself than her. "Besides, I'm finding it rather difficult to summon any real anger towards you these days. Even when you're being impossibly vexing with your organizational schemes."

“I knew you liked the pastels idea” she mumbles

Klaus let out a quiet chuckle, the sound warm and genuine.

"I will deny that accusation until my last breath - which, given my immortality, means you'll never win this argument." His fingers absently played with a strand of her hair. "Though I must admit, your persistence is... endearing. Even if it means I'll spend the next century explaining to everyone why there are powder blue throw pillows in the Original Hybrid's compound." His voice held a mix of resignation and fondness.

He shifted closer, drawn by her sleepy warmth. "Rest now, love. You can continue your mission to soften my aesthetic tomorrow."

“Good night Klaus” she whispers

Klaus keeps his eyes open, just looking at her and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. How could he bring himself to look away?

"Goodnight, little human," he whispered, though he knew she was already drifting off. "I should be plotting revenge, celebrating victory, asserting dominance..." his voice was barely audible. "Instead, I'm lying here, counting your breaths, terrified by how peaceful you look in my bed. How right it feels."

He fought against his instinct to pull you closer, maintaining the small space between you even as every fiber of his being urged him to wrap you in his arms. "You've made quite a mess of me, haven't you?" His confession was silent in the darkness. "The great Klaus Mikaelson, reduced to a sentinel watching over a sleeping human who dares to suggest pastels in his home... and finding himself hopelessly enchanted by every moment of it."

After a few moments, she opens her eyes, smiling when their eyes meet. “You have pretty eyes,” she whispers.

Klaus' breath caught, momentarily stunned by her unexpected awakening and disarming comment.

"And you," he murmured, fighting to maintain composure despite being caught in such an unguarded moment, "have an absolutely terrible habit of catching me off guard with these devastating little observations."

He studied her face in the dim light, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. "You should be sleeping, not making dangerous statements that make me want to..." he trailed off, catching himself. "Well, let's just say your particular brand of sleepy honesty is rather testing my self-control, love."

Y/N looked down at his lips for a moment before closing her eyes back, scooting closer so her head was tucked under his chin, relaxing fully

Klaus froze momentarily at her bold move, his body tensing before slowly relaxing around her.

"Brave little thing," he whispered into her hair, finally allowing himself to wrap an arm properly around her. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" His voice was rough with emotion as he drew her closer, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head.

He pressed his lips gently to the top of her head, inhaling her scent. "Sleep now, sweetheart. I've got you."

His thumb traced soothing circles against her spine, his own breathing synchronizing with her despite not needing to breathe at all.

"Though we will eventually need to discuss your alarming tendency to render me completely defenseless with these innocent little gestures."

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