Multifandom x reader one-shots [REQUESTS ARE CLOSED]

Graveyard (Young Klaus x young reader)

A/n: Um hey y' all what's up, two updates in two days what's going on!??!!? Idk either man, I should be doing my English homework instead but Nah, it's cool, umm yeah, I really hope you enjoy this one cause this one has some major Klaus fluff. OH AND I JUST REALIZED THIS IS MY FIRST KLAUS ONE!!!! WOW love that for me. anyway yes, some smol bean Klaus fluff, um, the closer you get to the end the less sense it makes but just roll with it. umm yeah, hope you enjoy cause this one isn't as trashy as my normal 1 am written one-shots, but yeah anyway, hope y' all enjoy this, and yeah, tell me what y'all think of this slightly less trash one-shot.

Edit: oh also I'm thinking of making a part 2, should I?

Words: 2922

I was walking through the graveyard, weaving in and out of the gravestones as I ran along giggling. I knew the trail to my mother's grave by heart and as a result, needed no assistance in trying to find it. I made my journey to my mothers grave alone, my father unable to make the journey, knowing if he even saw her name on that gravestone he would break. He was a mess ever since my mother died, working late nights and early morning to support me, out drinking on the weekends to numb himself to the pain of the loss of the love of his life. It was strange for an 8-year-old child to make a journey to a graveyard every Friday, especially to make the journey alone, but it became a normal thing for me. I went and sat by her grave almost always bringing a small backpack full of snacks, some water fruits and sandwiches. I always brought two of whatever I had, one for me to eat and one for my mother. I would sit by her grave and lay the food out on her gravestone, then I would set down a picnic blanket and sit next to the stone and animatedly tell my mother what had happened during the week, giving her little updates about what I was doing. I liked to believe she was sitting next to me as a ghost, eating and listening to me tell my stories. I would sit for hours just talking, I would always finish my visit by saying how much I missed her and wish she was here, then I would tell her about dad and how he was doing. Before packing up my stuff, leaving the food I made for my mother on the grave and putting whatever I had leftover back in my backpack. I would place a small kiss on the gravestone and then I would make my return journey home.

So I made my way down the path to my mother's grave, and something caught my eye. It was a new grave, I knew this because I made the journey to my mothers grave every Friday, so all the gravestones were ingrained into my head. This one, however, was not, it was a little ways off the trail to my mother's gravestone, it was a small cement building type thing. I was a curious little thing so I was intrigued and wanted to go explore what it was. I didn't think my mother's ghost would mind me taking a detour while on my way to her grave so I hurried to the little area the building occupied. As I walked closer to it I realized there were no graves around it. There was a perfect square of cleared grass surrounding the stone. I saw no sign saying to keep off the grass or away from the building so I continued to go closer. The building had two columns standing in front of a small set of doors leading inside of it. I circled around the small building a few times looking at it for anything interesting. I saw nothing, the outside was plain, with no words or names engraved above the doorway or anything. Thinking it was some type of cemetery office building or something, I climbed the stone steps up to the door and gave the door a light tug so I could see what was on the inside of the building. I frowned as the door didn't budge since I had expected it to be light. I pulled on the door handle harder, stomping my foot when the door still didn't budge. However, along with being very curious, I was also very stubborn, much too stubborn for my own good, and also much too stubborn to accept the possibility that maybe the door was locked. I huffed and rolled up my sleeves. I gripped onto the door handles and pulled hard, leaning back and putting all my weight into the pull. That's when I heard it, the glorious scrapping noise of the heavy door opening. I let go panting for breath, as I looked to see how much the door had opened. It wasn't even a full inch. I groaned and pounded my small fists on the other door, the one I was not opening, and that's when I heard an unexpected sound coming from the inside. It was the voice of what sounded like a little boy.