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et7432 · 5 months ago

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Not Without Permission

(Klaus Mikaelson)

(Klaus Mikaelson x Reader)

Summary: Elena and Damon leave (Y/N) behind at the last untouched safehouse in Mystic Falls, the one place where the Originals can't just waltz in. It's a temporary peace, and they need her to stay put while they go after an ancient artifact that could change everything. Before they go, they make it crystal clear—no one gets inside, no matter what. The stakes are too high. But when a familiar, dangerous face shows up at the door—Klaus Mikaelson himself—(Y/N)’s calm is about to be tested. Charming, persuasive, and never without a few tricks up his sleeve, Klaus doesn’t take no for an answer. Will she keep the door locked, or will the deadly allure of the Original hybrid be enough to crack her resolve?

I pouted quietly, as I watched Damon and Elena leaving without me. It was my way of masking the yearning for adventure that I couldn't join in on.

"Listen carefully. Your house is the only place in town that the Originals cannot enter. No one can enter without an invitation, no exceptions - not even if someone is bleeding on your doorstep," Damon warns.

"I understand, Damon. Safe haven, magical barrier, invite-only."

Elena struggled with another duffel bag and hauled it to Damon's car trunk.

"It's true, (y/n). We can't risk it."

"Then let me come with you." I walked down the porch steps. "I've been researching those artifacts for weeks. I could be of assistance-"

"No." Elena slammed the trunk. "You need to stay here where it's safe. Plus, don't you have that history report about the 1920s due?"

"Seriously? You're using homework as an excuse while you're out hunting for ancient magical objects?"

"I'd rather do homework than hunt for ancient magical objects that could get you killed," Damon called out as he climbed into the driver's seat.

Elena gave me a quick hug. "We'll be back before you know it."

I watched them get inside the car, frustration boiling within me. The engine roared to life, and Damon rolled down his window.

"Remember - don't open the door for anyone!" His voice carried across the lawn.

"Of course, dad!" I replied sarcastically, putting all my teenage angst into those three words.

The car disappeared down the street, leaving me alone on my supposedly safe front lawn, feeling like a useless researcher stuck in some supernatural time-out.

The desk lamp cast a harsh glow across my laptop screen. The cursor blinked against the white document - mocking me with its steady rhythm. Only my name and the date stared back: "(y/n) Matthews, October 15th."

The cicadas droned outside my window, their endless chirping a symphony of late-night procrastination. I drummed my fingers against the desk, scrolling through my research notes for the thousandth time. Prohibition. Speakeasies. The Jazz Age. My brain refused to string two coherent sentences together about any of it.

I glanced at my phone. 9:47 PM. No messages from Elena or Damon.

"The 1920s represented a period of..." I typed, then deleted it. Too generic.

"In the wake of World War I..." Backspace, backspace, backspace.

The cicadas grew louder, their sound bleeding through my closed window. I pushed back from my desk and paced the room, my sock-covered feet silent against the hardwood floor. My history textbook lay open on the bed, its pages filled with black and white photos of flappers and Model T's.

"This would be so much easier if I could just interview an actual person who lived through it," I muttered, throwing myself back into my desk chair. The leather creaked under my weight. "But no - stay home, (y/n). Do your homework, (y/n). Do the responsible thing, (y/n). Don't get killed by thousand-year-old vampires, (y/n)."

The flashing line on my screen taunted me. I couldn't help imagining what adventures Elena and Damon were having - undoubtedly more exciting than watching an empty screen mock my progress.

I slumped forward, letting my brow make contact with the smooth desktop surface. Overhead, my study light buzzed softly, a constant electrical hum that matched my brain's static.

The peaceful stillness of the night shattered as three sharp knocks echoed through the house. My heart pounded in my chest.

More knocks followed, each one deliberate and measured. I knew it wasn't Damon's impatient pounding or someone in need of help.

I descended the stairs cautiously, avoiding the creaky spots I had memorized long ago. The atrium light cast eerie shadows across the hardwood floor.

"Who is it?" I called out, trying to mask the uncertainty in my voice.

"Good evening," came a refined voice from beyond the door. "Forgive the late hour, but I'm searching for Elena Gilbert. I was told she might be here."

As soon as I heard his words, the hair on my neck stood on end and a shiver ran down my spine. I immediately recognized that voice.

“Well, she’s not here,” I said firmly, glad my voice didn’t waver. "And even if she was, she wouldn't want to talk to a vampire like you."

The man's chuckle turned into a low growl. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"I know who you are." I stepped back from the door, though the barrier spell made the distance unnecessary. "And I know you can't come in."

A low chuckle drifted through the wood. "Clever girl. Elena mentioned you. Haven't I seen you before a few times? - the studious one, always with her nose in a book. Tell me, what are you reading these days?"

"Nothing that would interest you." My fingers gripped the banister behind me, steadying my shaking legs.

"On the contrary, I find human persistence fascinating. The way you dig through dusty tomes and piece together fragments of the past..." His voice moved along the porch, closer to the window. "Speaking of the past, I hear you're writing about the 1920s. I could tell you stories that would make your paper absolutely..." A tap against the wooden door. "Riveting."

My throat went dry as I realized the truth - he had been alive during those times. He probably danced in speakeasies and roamed the gas-lit streets. But how did he know about my writing? Was he watching me earlier, lurking and listening to my conversation with Elena and Damon?

"I have no interest in your stories," I said, trying to keep him talking. I knew Elena would want to know that he was back in town, but my phone was upstairs on my desk, out of reach.

"No? Shame. I particularly enjoyed Chicago during Prohibition. The music, the fashion... the absolute lawlessness of it all. Your textbooks couldn't possibly capture the true spirit of the era."

Each word dripped with casual menace, reminding me of every story I'd heard about his victims. The countless lives he'd ended with that same conversational tone.

"Why are you really here?" I forced steel into my voice, channeling Elena's courage.

"Direct. I like that." Another tap, this time back at the door. "Very well. Since Elena's not answering her phone, perhaps you could pass along a message?"

My hand trembled over the doorknob. Every survival instinct screamed to run upstairs, but a deeper part of me knew - if Klaus wanted to deliver a message, he'd find a way. At least the barrier spell would protect me.

I twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

Klaus stood on my porch, hands clasped behind his back. The porch light caught the angles of his face, casting shadows that made him look more a statue than man. His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Brave little thing, aren't you?" He cocked his head. "Most humans who know what I am wouldn't dare."

I rested on the door frame. "The barrier spell works both ways. You can't get in, and I can't accidentally step out."

"Clever too." He took a single step closer, stopping just short of the invisible line. "Though I must say, opening doors to monsters - even with magical protection - shows questionable judgment."

"You said you had a message." I lifted my chin, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"Indeed." His eyes locked onto mine, and I fought the urge to look away. "But now I'm far more intrigued by you. Standing here, trembling yet defiant. Tell me, what makes someone choose to face their fears instead of hiding from them?"

"Maybe I'm tired of hiding." The words spilled out before I could stop them. "Maybe I'm tired of being the one left behind to stay safe while my friends risk their lives."

Klaus's smile widened, showing teeth. "Now that's honesty I can appreciate."

I swallowed hard, regretting my outburst. Every story I'd heard about Klaus started with someone letting their guard down, sharing too much.

"The message." I squared my shoulders. "What do you want me to tell Elena?"

"Straight to business?" He traced a finger along the door frame, stopping at the barrier's edge. "And here I thought we were having such a lovely chat about your academic pursuits."

"It's late, and I have homework to finish."

"Ah yes, your paper." His hand dropped to his side. "Though I suspect your mind's no longer on dance halls and bootleggers."

"Klaus." I forced myself to sound more direct. "The message?"

His expression shifted, playfulness vanishing like smoke. "Tell her I found what we discussed in Chicago. The item she's searching for? It's not what she thinks. And if she continues down this path..." He leaned forward, close enough that I could see flecks of gold in his eyes. "Well, let's just say some treasures are better left buried."

"That's cryptic, even for you."

"Consider it a courtesy warning. I do so hate to see wasted potential." He stepped back, adjusting his jacket cuffs. "Whether that potential belongs to Elena or yourself remains to be seen."

Goosebumps appeared on my skin from his words. "I'll tell her."

"My thanks for being such a reliable messenger bird." He gave a slight bow and turned his back to me walking away.

Klaus's silhouette started blending into the dimness of nightfall along the asphalt street, an impulsive need shot up my spine making my heart hammer against its cage; an acknowledgement of shared knowledge perhaps? Against all better judgement and advice whispering urgently for silence in my ear, I called out to him,

"Klaus!"

"Wait." As I called out his name, Klaus froze in place, his body still and tense as if carved from a block of cold, white marble. His face revealed a struggle, with furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he wrestled with conflicting emotions.

Finally, he took a deep breath and turned on his heel, his determined steps leading him back to my home.

The sound of his shoes crunching against the gravel path echoed through the quiet evening air as he strode purposefully towards me. Klaus was back on my porch as close to me as he could get this time without touching the invisible barrier.

"Yes?" His tone was casual, but his expression remained unreadable as he took in my call. Curiosity laced his low baritone voice. Despite the tension in his posture, he exuded a sense of grace and anticipation with a slight turn of his head and a raised eyebrow.

"I was wondering... if you could tell me about the 1920s?" I gesture helplessly. "But you'd have to stay on the porch, obviously."

His lips curved into an amused smile. "Curiosity wins over caution? How delightfully human."

"You can sit." I backed away from the door. "Let me just-"

I darted to the living room, dragging one of the heavy wooden chairs from our dining set. Its legs scraped across the floor as I pushed it through the doorway, over the threshold.

Klaus caught the chair with one hand, positioning it with casual grace. "Such hospitality."

"Can I get you something to drink?" My heart hammered against my ribs. "Not... I mean, obviously not blood, but..."

"Scotch, if you have it." He settled into the chair. "Your father keeps a decent collection, as I can tell."

I froze. "How did you-"

"The cabinet right at the end of the hallway," He looked straight ahead. "I make it my business to know these things."

I found myself walking to our alcohol cabinet, hands shaking as I reached for the crystal decanter. The amber liquid caught the lamplight as I poured a generous measure into a glass.

When I returned, Klaus looked almost relaxed and at ease—something I had never seen in him before. I felt ridiculous, but I couldn’t take any chances with the unpredictable original. I quickly put the glass down on the ground and grabbed an umbrella from near the front door, using it to push the glass past the barrier.

“Really, love? A bit overly cautious?” he remarked, accepting the scotch as he leaned down to pick up the glass.

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to be too cautious around you, Klaus,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

I paused in disbelief as the reality sank in: an old vampire, let alone an original, was willing to help me with my school paper. "Hold on, I need to grab a few things," I mumbled under my breath before quickly climbing the stairs to retrieve my laptop and phone.

I also snatched a thick blanket, anticipating the cool air outside at this time of night.

Making my way back down the stairs, I bundled myself in the warm blanket and settled in the doorway, tucking my legs under for added coziness. With my laptop balanced on my lap, I turned to face him.

He sat across from me with a playful smile on his face, his words laced with flirtatiousness. "You are a most intriguing creature," he declared, his dark eyes sparkling mischievously.

My gaze traveled over his handsome features, admiring every detail - from the sharp angle of his jaw to the way his hair fell across his forehead.

Feeling a blush spread across my cheeks, I cleared my throat nervously. "Sh-should we get started?" I stammered.

"By all means," Klaus responded, raising his glass in a small toast before taking a sip of the scotch. "But where would you like to start? The Roaring Twenties were quite an eventful decade, after all."

I chewed at my bottom lip momentarily, scanning the information I had already collected on my screen. "Gangsters and speakeasies," I finally said. "Prohibition and the rise of organized crime."

His mouth quivered upwards slightly into a smile. "A fascinating period indeed." He leaned back in his chair, looking every inch the relaxed gentleman. Yet, there was an ominous stillness about him that contradicted his comfortable appearance.

He began to speak, describing the decadence and vibrancy of the 1920s with a vividness that only someone who lived through it could possess. His stories were filled with tales of moonshine and jazz, of raucous parties and hushed backroom deals.

As he spun his colorful narratives, I found myself increasingly drawn in by his storytelling, my homework temporarily forgotten. His voice wove a tapestry of the past so tangible that I felt as though I could almost touch it.

"There was this feeling in the air," he tried to explain with a far-off look in his eyes. "A desperation...a recklessness. It was as if everyone knew they were dancing on the edge of a cliff - but they were too caught up in their own enjoyment to care."

Then he shifted gears and tales of extravagance turned grimmer as he began narrating about the violent underbelly of the age - amoral gangsters with Tommy guns ruling cityscapes through fear and intimidation, corruption permeating every layer of society.

His violent accounts of the past made my blood run cold reminding me exactly who – or rather 'what' – Klaus really was - an ancient supernatural creature capable of unspeakable horrors, who had lived through centuries of human history, who had seen - no, done - the very worst humanity had to offer.

Yet, for all that he was and all that I knew him to be, in that moment, as he sat back in that old wooden chair recounting a bygone era with an almost nostalgic air about him – Klaus seemed startlingly human.

Hours passed and the moon climbed higher in the sky. The cold crept into my bones, stiffening my fingers against the keyboard. But I had too many questions and Klaus seemed more than willing to answer them.

A sense of camaraderie began to settle between us, one that made me forget for a few minutes about the inconceivable dangers associated with his kind. The night felt less threatening with Klaus’ presence - his tales from the past bridging the divide as we sat together under the chilling autumn wind sharing stories – his so supernaturally old and mine so humanly young.

As the night began to fade, a tinge of sadness crept into my heart, knowing that this evening was coming to an end. The weight of reality pressed down on me as I faced Klaus. His striking eyes, glowing like liquid gold in the dim light, were fixated on me once again. His eyes held a vast depth of knowledge, and for a moment, I was entranced by their mysteries.

"Is there anything else you'd like to know?" he asked, finishing the last sip of his scotch.

My eyes still locked onto his and I shook my head slowly, a soft smile playing on my lips. More than anything, I wanted to indulge in this moment just a bit longer.

"No," I replied, fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of my laptop. "That...that's enough for now."

He chuckled softly, draining the last remnants of the amber liquid from his glass and placing it softly on the porch floor. Rising up from the chair, he stretched subtly, the muscles rippling under his attire creating a muscular silhouette against the glow of the approaching dawn.

"Very well then," he said, stepping towards me. He extended his hand to help me up from the cold wooden floor. As I reached out to accept it, a spark seemed to dart between us, potent and electrifying. I recoiled my hand before grabbing his realizing that he could pull me out from the protective barrier. I saw him frown for a moment but he recovered quickly as if it didn’t bother him.

“I should leave now, little creature,” he says almost endearingly.

"Wait." I scrambled to get him to stay in some way a little longer. "What about the message for Elena?"

"Ah yes." He paused at the edge of the porch steps. "Don’t worry your pretty mind about Elena’s business.”

"You're not going to explain what you meant about the item she's searching for?"

"Some discoveries are best made firsthand." He turned back, shadows playing across his features. "Besides, I've given you plenty to work with - both for your paper and for Elena."

My fingers clutched the laptop tighter. "Why help me at all?"

"Perhaps I enjoy nurturing young minds." His voice carried back through the darkness. "Or perhaps I simply appreciate anyone willing to look beyond the surface of history's official narrative."

My lips parted, ready to speak, but before I could even form a word, Klaus had vanished into thin air without uttering a simple 'goodbye'. The absurdity of the situation made me laugh, despite everything that had just transpired. I chuckled softly under my breath as I stood alone staring out at the vacant street from my front door.

I remained motionless for a while, hearing the cicadas pick up their song again, questioning whether the strange meeting had been real.

His empty scotch glass remained on the porch, catching moonlight like a diamond in the rough. I stared at it, mind racing through every detail of our conversation. Klaus's words about speakeasies, the hidden rooms, the secrets, crimes - they painted a vivid picture of the 1920s . But something nagged at me.

I pulled my phone out and opened my messages to Elena.

"Klaus was here. Said he found 'the item' you were looking for claims it's not what you think. Warning you about buried treasures?" My thumb hit over the send button.

The response came seconds later: "WHAT? Are you okay? Stay inside!"

"I'm fine. He couldn't cross the threshold." I glanced at the empty chair. "Elena, what's this item he mentioned?"

"Don't worry about that. We're turning around and heading back home now."

"It's late, I'm safe. He's gone." I looked at my laptop proud of the notes I'd taken. I set it aside on a table by the front door.

Elena's response buzzed through. "Be safe. We'll talk in a little bit. Lock everything."

"I will. Don't worry so much." I picked up the blanket ready to close the door.

But the empty scotch glass still sat on the porch I couldn't resist the urge to clean up.

"I really should bring that inside," I thought to myself, stepping over the threshold to grab it.

My fingers had barely closed around the glass when the air shifted. A rush of movement slammed me back against the house wall, knocking the breath from my lungs. Klaus's hands pressed on either side of my head, caging me in.

"Careful, love." His breath ghosted across my cheek. "Crossing thresholds can be dangerous business."

My heart thundered against my ribs. "You were waiting."

"Watching." His eyes traced my face with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "To see if temptation would overpower your better judgment once more."

"I just wanted the glass-" My voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

"Fascinating." His thumb traced along my jawline, the touch feather-light yet electric. "Your heart's racing, but you're not trying to run."

I pressed my palms flat against the wall behind me, desperate for something solid to ground me. "Maybe I know it wouldn't make a difference."

"Oh, it would make all the difference." Klaus's other hand slid down to rest at the curve of my neck, his fingers cool against my pulse point. "The chase always adds such... excitement."

"Is that what this is to you? A game?"

"Life's a game, love. The trick is knowing which pieces to move." His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, and my breath caught. "And when to take risks."

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the sharp scent of autumn leaves. Klaus's body blocked most of the porch light now, casting us both in shadow.

He spoke softly, his accent flowing over the words like smooth silk.

"What fascinates you more - the monster or the man?"

"I-" The word stuck in my throat as his fingers traced patterns on my skin. "Both. Neither. I don't know."

"Now that's honesty." He shifted closer, until barely a breath separated us. "Most humans choose one or the other. They either crave the darkness or desperately seek the light." His nose skimmed along my cheek. "But you... you see both, don't you? The artist and the killer. The teacher and the terror."

One of my hands found their way to his chest, but I couldn't tell if I meant to push him away or pull him closer. The fabric of his jacket was soft under my fingertips, hiding the immortal strength beneath.

My head was spinning, my thoughts scattered as Klaus's proximity overwhelmed me. I wanted to push him away, to run inside and lock the door behind me. But at the same time, I couldn't deny that a part of me was drawn to him, intrigued by his words and his touch.

"You shouldn't be here," I managed to say, my voice trembling.

Klaus's lips curved into a predatory smile. "But I am."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Why? Why do you keep coming back?"

He leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "Because you intrigue me."

I shivered at the feeling of his warm breath on my skin. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" He pulled back slightly, studying my face with those piercing blue eyes. "I want to show you what real passion is, love. To open your eyes to a world beyond your mundane existence."

I couldn't deny the spark of curiosity that flickered within me at his words. But I refused to give in so easily.

"I know what passion is," I said stubbornly.

"Do you? Has anyone ever made your heart race like this?" Klaus's hand trailed down my neck and over my chest before resting on my waist.

I swallowed hard as he leaned in again, our faces so close that our noses were almost touching.

"I can make you feel things you've never felt before," he whispered against my lips.

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but I couldn't let myself succumb to him just yet.

"Who says I want that?" I challenged, trying not to let his nearness cloud my judgment.

"You do." His voice was low and confident. "You crave excitement and danger just as much as you fear it."

I wanted to deny it, but deep down I knew he was right. There was a part of me that longed for something more, something beyond the endless cycle of work, eat, and sleep.

"I'm not like you," I insisted, searching his eyes for some grain of understanding. Yet all I saw were galaxies of blue teasing me with unparalleled enigma.

His laughter echoed through the night, as soft and alluring as forbidden velvet. "Oh darling, nobody said you had to be." The fingers at my waist tightened slightly, pulling me inescapably closer. "All you need to be is... open."

"Open to what?" I whispered, my voice quivering, my heart hammered wildly against my chest.

His lips crashed into mine, fierce and demanding, with a passion that spoke of centuries of longing. The glass slipped from my trembling fingers, shattering on the wooden planks beneath us. My hands found his jacket lapels, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, my fingers curling into the expensive fabric. His fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth moved against mine with desperate intensity, every touch igniting fire beneath my skin.

My heart thundered against my ribs, matching the fierce rhythm of his immortal strength pressing against me. I could feel centuries of loneliness and desire in the way he held me, his touch alternating between gentle reverence and possessive need. The wooden porch railing pressed into my back, grounding me in this moment that felt suspended between reality and dream.

His hand slid down my spine, leaving trails of fire in its wake, each touch a dangerous promise that made me shiver. I arched into him, gasping as his teeth grazed my lower lip, the gesture both tender and predatory. The rough wood siding pressed against my back, splinters catching at my sweater, a stark reminder of reality that did nothing to break the spell of his presence.

"Such sweet surrender," Klaus breathed against my mouth, his accent thicker with desire. His stubble scraped my skin as he traced kisses along my jaw, each one deliberate and claiming. "And here I thought you were the cautious one, love."

My fingers clutched his shoulders, seeking anchor in a storm of sensation, feeling the immortal strength beneath his expensive jacket. "I am cautious."

"Evidently not." His laugh vibrated against my throat, dark and rich like aged whiskey. "Though I must admit, your recklessness is... intoxicating."

The word snapped something in my brain, cutting through the haze of desire like a knife. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Deadly. Every warning Elena had ever given me about Klaus crashed back like a tidal wave - stories of his cruelty, his manipulation, the trail of broken bodies he'd left across centuries.

"Wait." I pressed my palms against his chest, feeling his heart beat slow and steady beneath my hands. "Stop."

To my surprise, he did. Klaus pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark with hunger that wasn't entirely vampiric, predatory desire written in every line of his immortal face. "Having second thoughts?"

"I'm having all the thoughts." My voice shook, betraying the chaos in my mind. "Every single one I should have had before I stepped outside this threshold. Every warning bell that should have rung hours ago."

"And yet here you are." His thumb traced circles on my hip, each movement sending shivers down my spine. "Making choices that would terrify your friends. Defying every careful warning they've whispered behind closed doors."

"They'd be right to be terrified." I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of my own recklessness. "You're..."

"A monster?" His smile held no warmth, just centuries of dark promises. "We've established that love. Multiple times tonight. Or have you forgotten our earlier conversations?"

"No, you're..." I struggled to form coherent thoughts with him still pressed against me, his presence overwhelming every sense. The scent of aged whiskey and leather clouded my mind, making it impossible to think straight.

"You're Klaus. You don't do this - whatever this is. You have schemes and plans and..." I drew in a shaky breath, acutely aware of how his touch seemed to burn through the thin fabric of my shirt. "You don't get distracted like this. You're always ten steps ahead of everyone else."

"Perhaps this is part of a scheme." His fingers skimmed up my side, leaving trails of fire in their wake. The predatory gleam in his eyes made my heart stutter. "Or perhaps you've simply caught my interest. A thousand years on this earth, and still you manage to surprise me."

"That might be worse." My voice came out barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of what those words could mean. The thought of being truly interesting to Klaus Mikaelson was more terrifying than any calculated plot.

His laugh was genuine this time. "Smart girl." He stepped back, leaving me cold in the autumn air. "Though not quite smart enough to stay inside, it seems."

I wrapped my arms around myself, looking down at the shattered glass as I shifted uncomfortably on the porch. "You orchestrated this whole thing." The realization settled like lead in my stomach.

"The history lesson? Yes. The kiss?" His eyes glinted dangerously in the porch light pleased. "That was all you, love. Crossing thresholds, chasing after crystal glasses... Such impulsive decisions."

"You could have just taken the glass with you when you left." Even to my own ears, the argument sounded weak, defensive.

"And miss this delightful demonstration of poor judgment?" Klaus brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering a moment too long against my cheek. "Where would be the fun in that?"

My phone buzzed insistently in my pocket - probably Elena again, wondering why I wasn't responding. Klaus's eyes flickered down to the sound, a calculating expression crossing his features.

"You should answer that. Your friends are quite protective." He took another step back. "Though I doubt they'd approve of tonight's... extracurricular activities."

"Don't." Heat flooded my cheeks as my hand instinctively touched my still-tingling lips. "This was a mistake."

"Was it?" He crouched down, picking up a large shard of broken crystal, his movements deliberately slow and graceful. "Seems more like an education to me. History, chemistry..." The glass caught moonlight as he turned it between his fingers, creating dancing patterns on the porch walls. "A practical lesson in crossing lines."

My phone buzzed again, the vibration seeming to echo in the tense silence between us. Klaus straightened back up to his full height.

"Your friends are getting impatient." Klaus stepped closer, his boots crunching over broken glass. "Though I must say, their timing leaves much to be desired."

I backed up against the door, heart pounding. "I should go inside."

"Should you?" His fingers traced the invisible barrier at the threshold. "We both know that's not what you want."

"What I want isn't always what's best for me."

"Now that's where you're wrong, love." Klaus's eyes locked with mine, intense and magnetic. His gaze held centuries of dark promises, sending shivers down my spine. "Sometimes the most dangerous choices yield the sweetest rewards. Why deny yourself?"

"Because I actually want to stay alive?" My wavering voice revealed my hesitation.

"No." His smile turned predatory, revealing just a hint of fang. "You're curious. Drawn to the darkness, even as you pretend to fear it." He gestured at the door behind me, his rings catching the porch light. "A couple of words, (y/n). That's all it would take. Invite me in."

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I gripped the door knob. "So you can what? Add me to your list of conquests?"

"So we can explore this... chemistry between us." His accent wrapped around the words like silk, each syllable a caress. "Don't pretend you haven't felt it building all evening. The way your heart races when I'm near, how your breath catches at my touch." His words hit too close to home, making my pulse stutter traitorously.

"Klaus..." The name came out as barely more than a whisper.

"Say yes." His hand hovered near my face, not quite touching, but I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. "Give in to what we both want."

My phone buzzed a third time, insistent and grounding. The familiar vibration cut through the spell he was weaving around me. I closed my eyes, fighting against the pull of his presence. "I can't."

"Can't?" His voice carried an edge of danger. "Or won't?"

"Both." I gripped the door frame harder, using the rough wood to anchor myself. "My friends trust me. I won't betray that."

"Loyalty." Klaus spat the word like poison. "Such a human weakness." His fingers traced the invisible barrier again, testing its limits. "And yet, it's precisely that quality which makes you..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Fascinating."

"I'm not fascinating." The words came out sharper than intended. "I'm just trying to survive in a world that keeps getting more complicated by the day."

"You underestimate yourself." His hand dropped to his side. "Most humans would have slammed the door in my face hours ago. But you..." His eyes raked over me, intense and calculating. "You stayed. Listened. Learned."

"Maybe I just needed help with my history paper."

"We both know that's not true." Klaus stepped back, his boots crunching over broken glass. "You're drawn to power, to knowledge. To danger." He smiled, all predator. "To me."

My phone buzzed again, the sound almost angry now. Klaus's eyes flickered to my pocket.

"Answer it." He gestured dismissively. "Before they send a search party."

"They might anyway." I pulled the phone out with trembling fingers. "Elena's not exactly the trusting type these days."

"Can you blame her?" Klaus's eyes glinted with dark amusement. "After everything that's happened in this town, trust becomes quite the precious commodity."

The screen lit up my face as I checked the messages. Four texts from Elena, each more worried than the last.

"Tell me something." I looked up from the phone. "Was any of this real? The history lessons, the stories?"

"Every word." Klaus picked up another shard of glass, turning it in the moonlight. "Though I admit, my motivations weren't entirely... academic."

"You could have just asked me out like a normal person."

His laugh echoed across the porch. "Normal? Love, I haven't been normal for a thousand years." He kicked the glass shards. "Besides, where's the intrigue in that?"

My phone buzzed again. Elena's name flashed across the screen, this time with a call.

"You should answer that." Klaus nodded toward the phone. "Your friend's persistence is admirable, if somewhat inconvenient."

I swiped to accept the call, keeping my eyes on Klaus. "Elena?"

"(y/n)! Thank god. Are you okay? Why weren't you answering?"

Klaus's smirk widened at Elena's panicked tone. He mouthed 'tell her' with a challenging raise of his eyebrow.

"I'm fine." I turned away from his taunting expression. "Just got caught up in my history paper. Lost track of time."

"You're sure everything's alright?"

"Perfectly fine." The lie tasted bitter on my still-tingling lips. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

Klaus's low chuckle carried across the porch as I ended the call. "Such a convincing liar. I'm almost impressed."

"Don't." I slipped the phone back into my pocket. "This doesn't change anything."

"No?" He crossed the distance between us in two fluid steps. "Then why lie to your dear friend Elena? Why not tell her I'm still here?"

My back pressed against the door frame as he leaned in, his breath ghosting across my cheek. The scent of whiskey and leather overwhelmed my senses.

"Because she'd try to save me." The words came out before I could stop them.

"And you don't want to be saved." His fingers traced the curve of my jaw. "Say it, love. Invite me in."His words hung in the air between us, heavy with promise and danger.

His touch left fire in its wake, each caress stoking the flames higher. My skin felt too tight, too sensitive, every brush of his fingers sending sparks through my nervous system. The rough wood of the house wall dug into my back, the only anchor keeping me from drowning in sensation.

"Please..." The word escaped before I could stop it, breathy and desperate.

"Please what?" His tone is dangerous and seductive. His thumb traced my bottom lip, pressing lightly. "Be specific, love."

Each feather light touch from his hand felt like a jolt of electricity, sending shivers down my spine and causing my muscles to tense in anticipation.

Each circle he traced made me arch closer, seeking more contact.

"I..." The words tangled in my throat as his lips found that spot behind my ear that made my knees weak. "God, Klaus..."

"Not quite the invitation I'm looking for." His teeth grazed my skin, drawing a gasp from my lips. "Try again."

The rational part of my brain screamed warnings, but it was drowning in a sea of want. His hands, his mouth, his voice - everything about him demanded surrender. And I wanted to give in, wanted it with an intensity that frightened me.

"Come..." My voice shook as his fingers tangled in my hair.

He chuckled deeply, his hot breath rolling down my neck. "Come what, love?" His voice was a soft purr, dangerously coercive. He was playing with me and we both knew it.

"Come...in." I finally managed, the words barely making their way past the lump in my throat. His lips drew into a triumphant smirk as he pulled back, meeting my gaze with an intense hunger in his eyes.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He asked, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before I could gather my thoughts, he swept me into his arms, effortlessly crossing the threshold of my front door. A thrilling rush surged through me, igniting my senses and replacing any trace of fear with a tantalizing excitement that I couldn't resist

“You are mine now,” he growled, slamming the door with a loud thud that reverberated through the house. The heavy weight of finality hung in the air, a declaration that left no room for argument or negotiation. Everything had changed with those words, and the once familiar surroundings now felt foreign and dangerous.

As his words settled in, I couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding wash over me. This was my new reality, and there was no going back to how things used to be.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x reader

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lostbookmark · 24 days ago

Text

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

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Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers,

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence,

A/N: So, regarding next week's chapter. I have it done. However, I leave for ‘vacation’ next Sunday. I use that term loosely, lol. I'm going to a theme park with my sister and her family for three days. I'm the only one willing to ride big rides with my older nephew. {Hello Nausea}

Anyway, to be transparent, I'm having a horrible case of writer's block right now. Not just with this but across my entire library of works in progress. I've walked away from here to work on other stories, and I've just been constantly writing, deleting, and repeat. I know you won't care, but unless I can figure out chapter 14, I might hold off on posting chapter 13 until June 14th just to give myself a little more time. Anyhoo, I appreciate you guys!! 💙🩷💚💜

Super light smut below!

Angrily, you open the door to your brother's office with the water jug from the refrigerator in your hand. With wide eyes, he looks at you in confusion as you shake it at him. He holds his hands up and shrugs his shoulders in confusion, and you huff.

“Fill the damn thing up when it gets low,” you tell him.

“How do you know it was me?” He asks, defending himself. “Maybe it was dad.”

“Nice try,” you snap. “Did you forget we used to live together?”

“I forgot, sorry” he apologizes, from where he sits from behind his desk.

“It's little things like filling a damn water jug that Elly will appreciate,” you say. “You found someone who loves you. I don't know why she loves you, but she does. So, don't fuck it up by not filling up the damn jug.”

“Do you need to talk?” He asks, leaning forward on his elbows, resting on the wooden surface of his desk.

“No,” you deny, quickly, and turn on your heel. “I’ll take care of it this time. Just stop being lazy.”

Leaving his office, you go back into the break room and place the jug into the sink. Turning the tap on, you wait as it fills with cold water before placing it back into the refrigerator. Shutting the door maybe a little too hard, you look at the pictures that decorated the door secured by construction themed magnets that ‘Nicky’ had gotten your dad for his birthday one year. You don't know who chose what pictures to display, but it was certainly a variety. Most were you and your brothers at different stages in your childhood on job sites, but then there were more personal. Chris and Elly's engagement photo, Nicky's baby picture, and there was even one of your mom and dad when they were younger. It was when your dad took the company over from his father, and your older brother was on your mother's hip sucking on his fist. It makes you smile. You've heard the story so many times.

“There, she is,” Elly says. Turning to her voice, you stand a bit straighter when she holds the door open for Yoongi, who is wearing his work clothes and glasses. You've never seen him in glasses. Damn it! He looked good! “She hasn't had lunch today. Don't let her tell you otherwise. She gets an hour.”

“Thanks,” he says, nodding softly at her.

“Yeah��.thanks,” you say, smiling tightly at her.

Waving innocently at you, she leaves the two of you alone, letting the door shut behind her. You and Yoongi look at each other, both not sure what to say. Yoongi holds his hand out for you to take, and for a slight moment, you hesitate before stepping forward and sliding your hand into his palm. Holding you securely, he guides you down the hall and past your desk where Elly waves happily at you. Flipping her off, she laughs and goes back into her office.

“Where are we going?” You ask. “I need my bag.”

“Nope,” he says. “We are having lunch at my place.”

“But….,” you say, looking around as the two of you step out of the building and continue to walk to his vehicle. “I've never been to your place.”

“I'm not far from here,” he replies, opening your door for you. Staring at him, he motions for you to get in. “I made us some sandwiches this morning. Let's get going.”

Giving in, you slide into his car much like you did before you two had your little falling out yesterday. Buckling yourself in, you place your hands in your lap and literally twiddle your thumbs waiting for him. As he slides into the driver's seat and gets himself situated, he reaches over and stops your nervous fidgeting. Looking at you, he arches an eyebrow in question.

“What?” You ask.

“Do you want to come with me?” He asks softly. “I'm not going to force you.”

“It's fine,” you say, acting like you didn't care either way, making him nod his head, but on the inside, you were shaking. You were headed into an unfamiliar territory. Someplace where you didn't have the advantage of just walking away comfortably. You bet that's why he planned this. He is starting to read you better than you thought. “I didn't know you lived out by my dad's company.”

“Well, I didn't know exactly where you worked until yesterday. You always said you worked for your dad, but you never gave the name of the company,” he explained, finally driving away. “I guess we need to start to get to know each other more.”

“I guess so,” you say, non committedly.

“Like your dads company is one of the top construction companies in our region,” he comments.

“Is it?” You act dumb.

“Not that that matters to me, but he seemed surprised that I didn't know that when we were talking yesterday,” he explains, and you shrug.

“It's not my money. So, what does it matter?” You say.

“I'm not with you for your family's money,” he comments. “You didn't have to hide it.”

Yoongi takes a turn and pulls up to a huge metal gate where he enters a code into a black box, making the gate open. Looking at him with wide eyes, you shake your head and give him a look of disgust.

“What?” He asks as he drives along the road, passing by expensive looking pristine homes.

“You live in an expensive ass gated community, and you need funding for the team?” You ask. “Was I scammed? That yard has a fountain out front!”

“You were not scammed,” he laughs. “Jungkook…. Coach Jeon and I are roommates, along with another friend. I couldn't afford a place like this on my own.”

“Does he know?” You ask, suddenly alert of your surroundings. You look out of all the windows of his car to see if you have been spotted. “I don't think I should go in.”

“He knows,” he confirms and pulls into a driveway. “It's okay. No one else is home.”

Yoongi gets out of the car and walks around the vehicle, opening the door for you, but you don't move. He sighs and reaches in to undo your seatbelt for you. Surrendering, you step out of his car and follow him. His neighborhood was nice, you guess. The houses all seemed to be the same in a scary matching way. Nothing seemed out of place, no kids toys, no sounds, very …. eerie. It's very different from what you had grown up with. You're assuming it's probably an HOA where everything had to be perfect and boring.

Kicking your shoes off, you follow him to the kitchen, where he pulls out a chair at the island. Pointing to it, you sit down, and he goes to retrieve the sandwiches that he made for the two of you that morning. Placing them on the countertop, he goes back to gather several other items.

“You didn't have to make me lunch,” you say. “I had a poptart in my bag.”

He turned from the fridge to give you a look, and you shut your mouth.

“I kept the condiments off,” he said, setting everything out before you and settling into the seat next to you. “Kook and I smoked some meat last night…”

“God, you really are perfect,” you mutter, more to yourself.

“Obviously not since I keep finding some way to ruin it,” he responds as he pushes his food away from him. “What I said wasn't directed at you or Nicky.”

“I know,” you say, looking at your food and feeling your mouth water.

“But that also doesn't mean that I don't see you as his parent because I do…. because you are his parent,” he explains, and you nod your head, wondering if you want to put some bbq sauce on the meat.

You kind of do.

It's the expensive kind.

“I know,” you agree, eyeing the bbq sauce and pickles. “It's a tough situation. I got too pissy over it, and I shouldn't have. I need to work on that.”

“I made a decision,” he says, reaching out to move your face, bringing your attention solely to him. “Next basketball season, I'm not going to coach.”

“What?” You ask, surprised at the words that came out of his mouth. “Yoongi, no!”

“It's gotten so stressful,” he admits.

“Because of me,” you say, standing from your chair and backing away.

“NO!” He exclaims, standing as well and grabbing you so you couldn't get away. “Not because of you.”

“Ara?” You ask, and he nods. “And I keep poking the damn bear.”

“Yeah, she blew my phone up about that last night,” he tells you. “She wanted to warn me that her husband must have told you about our little… you know. I can't block her. I wish I could, but I can't.”

“Don't quit,” you beg. “Nicky looks up to you so much. If you quit, I don't think he will play next year.”

“But it stresses you out so much,” he says, sitting back down his seat and that guilt that has been building finally feels like it explodes. “I hate seeing you… ostracized and not being able to do anything about it.”

“Wait, so you ….are…. you going to quit…. for me?” You ask, poking your finger into his chest. He stares at you but doesn't answer. Rolling your eyes, you sit back down and grab your sandwich, deciding to go with the pickles and bbq sauce. “That is the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

“Why?” He asks, sounding offended. “I would still run the program. I just wouldn't coach.”

“I am not worth all that,” you say, biting into the smoky meat.

Fuck!

It was heavenly.

“To me you are,” he argues.

“Well, I'm not going to let you quit coaching for me,” you argue back, taking another bite. “Those boys need you.”

“So,” he pauses and looks down at the kitchen floor. “Is this it for us?”

“What?” You ask, wiping your mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He clarifies his previous questions.

“Are you kidding me?” You say rolling your eyes. “You're amazing in bed, and you can cook. Why would I break up with you?”

“I’m not joking?” He responds.

“I'm not either,” you sigh, putting your food down. Hopping off your seat, you move to stand between his legs and pull him down to look him in the eyes. You guess it was now or never. “I like you, Yoongi. You're, like, really great, and you're really patient with me. I know I’m a handful…. Damn it, I'm not good with this shit…Mmhmmmhh…”

Yoongi covers your mouth with his own, cutting off your attempt at telling him how you feel, and you couldn't be more thankful.

“You should finish eating,” he mumbles against your lips, and your eyes shoot up to his questioningly. “Quickly.”

Swallowing thickly, you nod.

“How much time?” You ask breathlessly as you wiggle on top of his bed.

“Seven minutes,” he answers with his face pressed against your neck sans glasses. “You need to hurry, doll.”

“I'd rather come with something else inside me,” you tease, pressing your hips further against his hand that was working away between your thighs.

“Are you complaining?” He asks, pushing his digits further inside of you, making you cry out. “Sounds like you like it to me.”

“Oh shit, Yoongi!” You exclaim, rolling your eyes back and pressing your head back into his pillow. “Right there.”

“You're a fucking vision, doll,” his rasps against your skin. “Six minutes and we need to be out that door. Come on my fucking fingers right now.”

Gritting your teeth and closing your eyes. Your core tightens around the length of his fingers, causing you to sob out loudly. Your walls pulsate and flutter around and wet his fingers as you float away from your body for a moment.

“Yoongi,” you sigh, coming back down.

“I know,” he says, rolling on his back and throwing an arm over his face to calm himself down. “Damn, I know.”

“What about you?” You ask, panting, looking down at his obvious bulge confined in his dress pants.

“It will go away,” he says, wiping his hand on his blanket.

“That doesn't seem fair,” you say, rolling onto your side to study him.

“I got something better,” he tells you, mimicking your movement and putting his hand on your naked hip. “I got you to admit that you liked me.”

Rolling your eyes, you lightly push him, making him fall back on his back as you get out of his bed and reach for your skirt. Stepping into it, you tuck your now slightly wrinkled blouse in and look around for your discarded underwear.

“Looking for these?” He asks, dangling them off his finger but snatches them away when you go to grab them.

“Give them back,” you say. “I still have to work.” Laughing, he tosses them back to you and quickly you put them on and run your fingers through your hair fixing what you could. “Am I presentable?”

“You look more relaxed,” he says, rolling off the bed, then proceeds to make his way into his attached bathroom . “We might need to make this a daily thing.”

“In your dreams,” you say and look at his alarm clock on his dresser. “I prefer it when we both enjoy it.”

“Oh, I enjoyed it,” he smirks, coming back out and kissing you. Taking your hand, he leads you through the house and back out to his car. Looking around once more, as he backouts once more, you make him laugh. “What?”

“What?” You ask back.

“You made a face,” he says, pulling forward to drive straight.

“Did I?” You ask.

“Do I not live up to your standard?” He jokes, rubbing your thigh quickly before pulling his hand away as you reach the gate you entered to exit.

“To my standard?” You ask back. “You have been in my little shoe box, right? The three of us are pretty much on top of each other when we are in the same room.”

“Don’t act like you probably didn't grow up in a neighborhood like the one I live in,” he says, focusing on the road.

“I didn't,” you disagree, and you see his brows furrow. “I mean. I did, but not like that. Our neighborhood was fun growing up. We were friends with all of our neighbors. My mom would throw these bbqs and pool parties in the summer and invite everyone. It used to be so much fun.”

“I bet,” he smiles.

“There was this group of boys in the neighborhood. They were awful,” you say laughing. “And for me to say they were awful means they were awful. The summer I turned fourteen, my grandma bought this pink polka dot bikini. It wasn't revealing or anything, but I had spent weeks building up my confidence to wear it during that bbq.”

“What happened?” He asks, turning into the parking lot of your work.

“One of those boys,” you say with an eye roll. “Decided to untie the top, and it completely fell off me. I was so embarrassed. I ran into the house crying and locked myself in my room. My brother was so pissed. He….”

You let your story die out as you look down at your lap. That familiar lump in your throat starts to form, making you bite your lip in an attempt to distract yourself.

“Nicky's dad?” He asks.

You nod your head and cover your face once you feel yourself start to break. You can hear the click of his seatbelt before you feel the warmth of his arm surrounding you. Shaking your head again, you try to pull away from him, but his arms keep you close to him.

“Shh, it's okay,” he whispers against your hair.

“I'm sorry,” you say into your hands. “It still hurts.” Yoongi reaches over and undoes your seat belt. Grabbing your wrists, he gently removes your hands from your face and completely removes the seatbelt from your body. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“We don't have to,” he says, moving his head to try and get you to look at him, but you keep trying to look everywhere except in his direction. “I want you to remember what I said.”

“What?” You ask, looking at him.

“I'm here to help you carry that weight on your shoulders,” he says. “I'm here whenever you're ready.” Wrapping your arms around him once again, he buries his face against your neck in the exact same spot it was less than ten minutes ago. “And by the way, I like your little shoe box. It’s nice and homey.”

A knock on Yoongi's window has the two of you pulling apart, and you look over his shoulder to see your brother wagging his finger at you and then tapping his watch. You pull a face at him and shake your head.

“I guess that's my not so subtle cue time's up,” you say.

“Are you going to be okay?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah, don't worry about me,” you say distractedly, watching your brother, who was still watching you. You try to wave him away, but he just crosses his arms and waits impatiently for you. “I swear I hate him.”

“I really am sorry,” he says again. “I didn't mean to offend you.”

“I know,” you say, kissing him quickly before you open the door and step out. Leaning back down, you look into the car. “You're not going to quit, right?”

“No, I don't think I could,” he admits. “I'm just hoping our little problem will just… take care of itself one day.”

“I told you. I can just lay low,” you offer. “I have plenty of substitutes that can be there in my place.”

“I can appreciate you wanting to spend time with one another, but you need to take over for Elly,” Chris says, popping his head over your shoulder. “She and I have a meeting to get to.”

“Remind me to elope if I ever get married,” you say, trying to sound annoyed.

“You hear that,” Chris says, looking at Yoongi, making your blonde boyfriend laugh.

Gasping, you shut the door and chase after your little brother the best you could in your heels until the two of you disappear into the building. Unfortunately, the little shit was too fast for you, and he was able to lock himself in his office before you could catch him.

“How was lunch?” Elly asks as she walks by.

“Good,” you answer. “Better than good even.”

“Dessert…. good?” She asks slyly.

“Absolutely,” you reply.

“That's disgusting,” Chris yells from his office.

“That's what you get,” you yell back and head back to your desk.

Groaning, you sit down and log into your computer, trying to figure out how you were going to show your face at practice tonight. Fuck your brother, man.

Little brothers suck.

You were barely one step into the gym when Mark was shaking his head at you. Tilting your head at him, you nod your head backward, and he nods, but you couldn't get turned around fast enough before you were descended upon.

“Y/N,” one mom said, running over to you and latching onto your arm. “Thank goodness you are here. We were so worried that you were not going to come.”

“Why wouldn't I be here?” You question as she drags you over to the bleachers where all the other moms were waiting standing around. Except for Ara, who was sitting and glaring at you. “What is going on?”

“We had no idea about your…. situation,” mom number 2 says, whispering the last part.

“My situation?” You ask, your eyes darting around nervously.

“You being a widow,” mom number one answers, and your eyes widen. “We wanted to help you and Nicky out.”

“Oh….,”you try, but they don't let you get very far.

“I made you a chicken parmesan casserole that can be frozen for up to three months. I wrote the instructions down for you to follow when you're ready to eat,” she says, handing you a tin foiled pan.

“I made you four different soups,” a mom you never talked to before said, handing you a tote bag with four frozen bags of soups. “They too are good for three months. Just pop one in a large pan when you're ready. You can't mess it up.”

“Is everything okay over here?” Yoongi asks, shouldering his way through the bodies of the moms surrounding you.

“No, Coach Min,” mom number one says, crossing her arms and staring him down. “Did you know she's a ….. widow?”

Yoongi looks at you, and you look at him. The two of you just stand there blinking at one another, not saying anything.

“A widow?” He asks, looking confused and biting his lower lip

“She lost her husband,” mom number two explains.

“I know what it means,” Yoongi says. “This is news to me.”

“Well, we've come together to help her and Nicky,” she continues. “I can't cook, but my husband owns Mario's Pizza, and I got three large Pizza doughs for you.”

“Umm,” you say nervously, looking to Yoongi to stop them, but he looks amused.

“I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N,” he says with a straight face. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Mark jumps up to grab the bag she was trying to hand you, as you still look at Yoongi, who slightly smirks and walks away, leaving you to deal with this situation. You don't even know what to do right now. Mom, after mom keeps giving bags and containers for your new friend to hold. Poor Mark looked like he was about to drop everything.

“Umm, thank you, ladies,” you say. “Nicky and I appreciate this so much. Mark and I will take everything out to my car. Thank you so, so, so much!”

Quickly, you turn with Mark right on your heels and head out of the gym. Walking as fast as you could, you scurry through the halls and make it out to your car. Placing your bags down, you unlock your car and open your door. Mark places everything inside your vehicle for you as you watch him, chewing on your thumb nail.

“I didn't know,” Mark starts, scuffing his foot against the asphalt. “I thought maybe you were divorced, but I didn't think you lost your husband.”

“I'm an awful person,” you confess. “A horrible, horrid person.”

“Why?” He asks, clearly confused.

“I'mnotawidow,” you mumble quickly with your hand over your mouth.

“Can you repeat that?” He asks, leaning in close to you.

“I'm not a widow,” you say, looking around, and he straightens back up, and you kick the ground. “Nicky isn't even mine.”

“I'm sorry,” he says, shaking his head, still trying to understand what was going on.

“He's my nephew,” you continue. “His parents passed away earlier this year.”

“Oh,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “I'm sorry. Why keep it a secret?”

“Frankly,” you shrug. “It's nobody's business. He doesn't want to talk about it or get treated differently. So, we just kind of…. went along with it when people assumed I was his mom.”

“Yeah, no, I understand,” he says. “I won't say anything. The ammunition they would have thinking you lied to them on purpose.”

“I appreciate it,” you tell him. “Does it make me awful for keeping the food? I can't cook, and that stuff looks pretty good.”

“No,” he says, shutting your door. The two of you start to make your way back to the school. “You still had a loss, so I think keeping the food would still be appropriate.”

Smiling guiltily up at him you couldn't help but feel awful.

You were growing a heart.

Damn it!

“It's not funny,” you say, plopping down on the couch next to a laughing Yoongi.

“It's hilarious,” he replies.

“It's awesome,” Nicky says. “Those moms can cook!”

“This is not going to end well,” you moan, looking up at the ceiling. “I've dug myself into a huge hole. Not only am I dating a coach on the team. I'm dating the president of the program. My dad is going to fund the program next year, and now I'm a widow…. of my brother!”

Nicky and Yoongi burst out laughing, and you rub your hands over your face in misery.

“They looked so excited to help you too,” Yoongi says as he stops laughing.

“Don't tell them the truth,” Nicky says, getting up off the floor. “They might take their food back.”

The two you watch as he walks out of the room and Yoongi pulls you to lean back against him.

“Are you going to stay tonight?” You ask, threading your fingers through his.

“I shouldn't,” he answers.

“Why?” You question, craning your neck up to look at him.

“Because, I know what it will lead to,” he explains, and you look offended. “You're louder than what you think, doll. I'm paranoid that someone will wake up.”

This time you laugh.

“What if I promise to keep my clothes on and just…. repay the favor from earlier?” You ask, biting your bottom lip.

Yoongi drops his head to his shoulder in thought, pursing his lips.

“I think maybe we can do that,” he says, nodding his head. “I mean. You could…. lose the shirt, though.”

“Oh, sure, of course,” you laugh, turning to kiss him.

“I really am…” he starts, but you cut him off.

“If you apologize again. I swear to god,” you sigh. “Listen, I made Nicky promise me that if at any time he was uncomfortable with us being together. I would end it. I'm going to make you promise me the same thing. If at any time you get tired of Nicky being a part of me. Just…. let me go.”

“Nicky is great,” Yoongi says. “I swear it wasn't directed at you.”

“I know,” you tell him. “Just promise me.”

“I promise,” he nods. “It won't happen, but I promise.”

Throwing your arms around him. He wraps his around your waist, holding you to him tightly. Trusting him is becoming easier. Believing him is becoming easier. Wanting him to stay by your side is becoming easier.

“Are you going home first?” You ask, pulling away a little bit to look at him.

“Nope,” he answers, and you give him a look. “I might have started to pack a just in case bag.”

“Oh, really?” You ask and he nods. “Good.”

“Yeah?” He questions, almost like he was surprised.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

This was big. It actually wasn't big at all but felt huge. It felt like he was becoming a permanent fixture in your little metaphorical shoe box . You just hope that he wants to stay because you want him to.

Holy shit!

You want him to stay.

《Chapter 13》

Tagged Readers:

@busanbby-jjk, @meelismee @jajabro, @wicked-game-black-butler @wobblewobble882, @damn-u-min-yoongi @mintedagustd, @Granataepfelchen @yoongiiuu93, @jimeg629 @jincapableoflove, @minghaosimp @redragdoll, @ot72025 @seoullove96 @our-cool-jenny @kam9404, @momma1 @amarawayne, @militrybarbi

@haileyborig, @bettytta @mar-lo-pap, @lattejimin,@butterymin @thelilbutifulthings, @cannotalwaysbenight @notsooperfect @muchwita, @maryhopemei, @rinkud, @misfits1a,@ktownshizzle

#yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts fic #yoongi x you #min yoongi smut #yoongi au #bts suga #agust d #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #suga bts #suga bangtan #suga #suga angst #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi

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kingofthewilderwest · 8 months ago

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To everyone who asked, and to everyone who didn't:

Yes. I have somewhere between 1,000 and 2,000 of TwoSet's videos, all in HD quality. LINK BELOW

Earlier this year in 2024, I downloaded every single TwoSet Violin public video from their YouTube and scoured other sites like Bilibili and Facebook to get videos they'd deleted from at least one platform. My goal was to make some fandom compilation videos that'd require going through every video.

I do not have the last few months of 2024 (which I'm kicking myself for... I literally almost did a download update on SUNDAY). But I have almost everything.

2 mil, 3 mil, 4 mil, Fantasia, Hilary Hahn or Ray Chen collabs, Producer Shaun, professional versus beginner, violin charades, that cheeky skit you shared on Facebook in 2016

Their world tour VODs, including my own personal captures of their latest VOD stream

Some of the content from their Facebook kickstarter livestreams that I found from other fans.

I've been collecting all their TikTok videos currently, too. I've downloaded a spattering of their Instagram stories from 2024 and might have a small collection of recent Instagram videos, too.

I do not have everything, but I have a fuckton and I want to share it with as many people as possible, and collaborate with as many people as possible to fill in the missing pieces.

Please contact me if you have your own archives or know people working on other archives. I'm talking with a few people about starting a Google Drive project, but I don't know the big names in the TSV fandom and thus could be missing out on people who've done a lot of other work

It's more likely that this will clear over in the coming days / weeks / month / whatever and we'll have their official channel again. I'm still going to keep believing that. But it doesn't erase the importance of making sure the media we love doesn't become lost media. I have respect for content creators to monitor what does and doesn't stay on their platform, but for the sake of preservation of media, for the sake of helping a community, I want to make sure this archive is in place and widely accessible to TwoSetters.

My current cloud server is VERY MUCH a work in progress. I am in the middle of an extremely busy week and trying to do this around an office job and a half. It will take me time to upload everything, and even more time to organize everything. But the cloud server link is active, and I will keep people updated about the progress of my archiving through a PDF text file (not yet uploaded) in said cloud. If I collaborate with people for Google Drive systems, if I do other backups, I will let people know there and on my other social media accounts.

I am new and naive to Terabox. I started with Terabox because it's free to upload up to a terabyte of content. I think it should be free to download everything in full quality, but I don't know. People should inform me how it works. It's currently -- I'm sorry -- VERY poorly organized and requires Scrolling (TM), but short of that issue (which will be fixed with organization), I hope it gets people what they need.

Also: Reddit has suspended me for a few days lol (really I'm getting a slap on the wrist for how blatantly I was marching about), so if people want to start spreading this link to others in private chats elsewhere with known TwoSetters, the more the merrier! The purpose of this is to be a resource, either short-term or long-term.

#TSV #TwoSet Violin #twosetviolin #music #classical music

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cherrygummybears · 2 months ago

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found it by searching “neil” on my old blog and then dodging through the horrors of Some of the Stuff I Posted When I Was Sixteen

where is neil banging out the tunes it’s april 13

#cherry speaks #so i ended up rambling extensively after this >>>#so glad i remade my blog it takes self control not to deactivate my old one sometimes #but my archive of carefully tagged DM band posts usually stops me #i only leave it up as an archive for mostly my own use #if i could export the posts and take only my Mode tag and related tags id be very tempted to just delete the blog #sometimes i dislike having it up because god knows the insane shit i’ve said on there that i don’t remember #and wouldn’t even agree with anymore if i saw it now #but sometimes i still feel like i should leave it up #i was crazier and freer on there that’s for sure. i’m more picky here #i guess it’s just a reflection of my apparently complicated relationship with my high school self particularly #sometimes i think she’d be flabbergasted at everything ive become and not all in a good way #sometimes i think she’d just be happy at the progress i’ve made since then #and sometimes i feel like im her and i haven’t changed at all #i don’t hate her at all.. i love her a lot and i frequently wonder what she would think of me #i think sometimes i give it too much thought and don’t give myself enough space to just be as i am in the present moment #i’ve always disliked the sentiment many people have abt killing or destroying or leaving behind their younger self #younger me is the reason i’m here! i could never disown her. and her opinion matters to me but i forget that i know more now #and that my opinion now is her opinion but with more pieces of life experience #and there is definitely something real to not letting your past self control you #i guess i’m now learning to find a balance #loving her is a building block of loving myself though #but i guess i have to give her more credit. she was not hateful. she was doing her best with a lot of hard things going on #she would probably be happy to know that she grew immensely. that she learned #that overall things got better and she owes that to herself #these are better thoughts to have i think #i did not turn out to be really anything i would’ve predicted when i was 16 #but knowing the part i played in improving our life i think she would have been alright with me #wow i didn’t mean to ramble this much… i guess this one’s been marinating for a while back there in my brain’s corners

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lorienn-art · 6 months ago

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Hello people, it's been a LONG TIME since I posted the 1st batch of this comic/doujin but I haven't given up on it! Finding time to work on it was hard for several reasons: one being that it requires an insane amount of time and effort, especially for a hobbyist like me who doesn't spend her full time doing art (balancing this with uni was hell hahahahaha), another being that I'm still absolutely terrified by the idea of sharing this. I initially wanted to post this 2nd batch in September but it soon clearly appeared as impossible, so I gave myself the deadline of December 31st and I'm happy I was able to finish the batch in time.

Ngl, this has been a very exhausting experience. Not only did it required a lot of effort, it also really troubled my mental health (to say the least). Many times I thought about throwing everything away, sometimes even delete my whole online presence lmao, but I somehow managed to finish it. I don't think I've felt this vulnerable in my life while making art.

I can't say I'm fully satisfied with it. Looking at the finished product, I feel that there are some things I would do or say differently now, but I guess it's not an odd thing as I made the script and the storyboard a year and a half ago. I still do not consider this to be a good comic, whether it's in its writing or its art, but I can assure you that, at least, it's honest work. I'm also happy to see that I made some progress in my art between the 1st and 2nd batch. And despite all its flaws, I'm proud I was able to finish this very long batch.

If you hadn't forgotten about this comic, thank you very much. I hope you will appreciate this work. You can also find it on AO3, as for the first batch. Find the 1st batch here on Tumblr. There's one last batch left to complete this whole comic, but I think I'll need a break from it for a moment jsjs Thank you very much for your support, as always 💖

#artists on tumblr #comic #ink #screentone #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jotaro kujo #jotawife #mrs kujo #jolyne's mom

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kikikoifish · 16 days ago

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That feelimg when you have like 15 WIPs and then think of a really good idea for a new project 💀

Literally just me this past week.

ALSO OMGGGG READING A REALLY GOOD FIC @tuneless RECOMMENDED I'M ALREADY 13 CHAPTERS IN IT'S SO GOOD

It's partially why I have dissapeared I NEED TO FINISH IT AHJDSJNFMFNFN

Anyway flashback to how I have no new art to post 😭😭💔

Well Old Art Jumpscare!!

This was a WIP I never finished before I lost all of my old art on my ancient chromebook (crashed and deleted everything from ibis paint) but I did have this progress picture!!

(Maybe I'll do a redraw of it sometime soon!!)

And as you keep going in time, the improvement from left to right is insane, right???

Want to know how long is between when I finished these last two pieces?

💀

35 days.

THAT'S IT?????

So like if you feel like your art is bad or not improving, wait 35 days I guess?? Or something? I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing but I won't give up so don't even worry 🫶✨️ Gotta lock back in though chat wish me luck

Also @r0bot-horse and @korsalis you guys have lowkey inspired me to make myself sb animatronic so yeah that's something I'm working on as well 🤭✨️

#i don't know chat i'm just yapping i guess #hehehe #fnaf #fnaf fanfic #fnaf fan art #fnaf fanart #fnaf security breach #glamrock bonnie #fnaf sb #glamrock freddy #artwork #digital art #art improvement

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demonpiratehuntress · 2 years ago

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better

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - you think you don't do enough for the crew so you work harder and train harder to be better. Ace thinks you do plenty already, but supports your decision regardless.

warnings - none

a/n: i hope the person who requested this sees it, because me being a dumbass at 3am, i accidentally deleted the reply to the request. i also hope i got it right!

You could admit that you were not the most useful crewmember of the Whitebeard pirates. In fact, you felt completely useless, like you couldn't contribute anything meaningful or helpful. But you didn't want to be that way, you didn't want to be just a burden to them, even if Ace would constantly remind you that you're not a burden and you were helpful. To him, at least.

But you wanted to be helpful to the entire crew. In fights, you wanted to be able to hold your own without being told to go hide or go check on the injured. You wanted to be able to fight without having to depend on your boyfriend to come save you if you were faced with an opponent.

"(Name) are you even listening?" A deep chuckle met your ears, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You turned away from the shop window, smiling at Ace sheepishly, "I'm sorry, just...lost in thought." The way you said it and the way your smile didn't quite reach your ears alerted Ace to what you were thinking about.

"Hey," he took both your hands and brought you a little closer, "If it bothers you so much, I can always teach you a few things." He looked at the items you were eyeing from the shop and smirked. "Daggers, huh? Come on." He tugged you into the shop to help you choose a set.

After a very long few hours choosing a pair of pretty yet lethal daggers (Ace was the indecisive one), you both made your way back to the ship. You were staring at the sharp weapons in your hands, marveling at how dangerous they looked and feeling excited to finally learn to be at least a little bit effective.

"Okay let's start with some basic stances," he began, his hand reaching for your hip to position it. "Place one leg like this, and the other like this." He demonstrated his words, showing you how to stand and how to position your arms.

"Ace," you laughed a few minutes later, "I'm pretty sure my butt does not need to be in any specific position."

His beet-red face popped up in front of you, a coy smile on his lips, "Sorry babe, couldn't help myself."

He spent the rest of the afternoon teaching you basic combat moves and acting as your personal hype man, cheering excessively when you got something right just to boost your confidence. It was working, and you were grateful to have such a supportive and helpful boyfriend.

After a few more days of this, you were starting to get the hang of it. Your combat skills had drastically improved, and while you still hadn't managed to beat Ace, there was massive progress and you felt it.

But aside from combat, you also wanted to be more knowledgeable in other fields. Like first aid. In case of emergencies, you wanted to know how to deal with injuries and minor wounds that could be fixed right then and there. You didn't want to be an all-out doctor or medic, but you wanted to have at least a little medical knowledge.

So you took to medical books.

You read everything you could get your hands on, even staying up late at night to study. Sometimes you would even fall asleep at your desk, which is where Ace would find you in the morning. It worried him, but he also didn't want to stop you from learning.

"You should read it to me," he suggested one afternoon, while he was lying in bed with you after having to force you to stop when your eyes started to droop.

"Hmm?" You looked up at him sleepily, "Read what?"

"Those medical books you're reading," his warms hands rested on your stomach, putting you at ease. "You should talk to me about what you learn, it could help you remember."

You smiled when he offered to listen to you, "Are you sure you'll be able to keep up?"

He gasped dramatically, "What do you think I am? Stupid?"

"Yes," you teased.

He feigned offence, playfully scoffing, "I detest that."

"I'm kidding," you laughed, shifting so you could bury your face in his neck. "But thanks for the offer. I might just take you up on that."

And you did. Every time you were reading, Ace was with you whenever he could be. He sat and listened to you explain and discuss the human anatomy, how to dress certain injuries and what steps to take if there wasn't a medic around. He really didn't follow along, and he often fell asleep, but you appreciated the effort he was making to encourage you.

"Aceeeee!" You giggled and flicked his nose gently.

"Wha-?" He jerked awake, eyes flitting around the room before settling on you, and a lovestruck smile formed on his lips. "Oh, hey babe."

"You fell asleep again," you pouted, unable to stop your smile.

"I'm sorryyyyy," he apologised, leaning forward and kissing all over your face. It tickled, and the laughs he pulled from you made him smile. "Carry on, I'm listening now."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

#one piece #op #portgas d ace #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you

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crowsofdarkness · 5 months ago

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Call me Crow • 32 • She/Her • Writer • Streamer

On this page, you will find many things I love, mostly my writing. I write for Bill Skarsgard(any of his characters), Bucky Barnes, and Clive Rosfield(FF16).

REQUESTS FOR BLURBS/PHOTO IMAGINES/FAKE TEXTS: closed for now.

Masterlist

Current Works In Progress

Buy me a coffee?

LinkTree

Twitch: streaming Final Fantasy XVI every Tuesday and Thursday from 8 pm cst-10 pm cst.

My blog, along with what I write is 18+ so no minors allowed, please. I write dark themes, which is not for everyone (and that's okay), but I will give correct warnings on everything I write.

My inbox is always open but please know, no hate will be allowed. My blog is meant to be a safe space for everyone, myself included. Hate will be immediately blocked and deleted.

Any gifs/pics I use in my posts are not mine. All credit always goes to the original owner.

I try to label my fics with appropriate tags/warnings. if I do miss one or label it incorrectly, please let me know and I'll be more than happy to change it!

#intro post #bill skarsgard #marvel #bucky barnes #steve rogers #the crow 2024 #eric draven #eric draven 2024 #twitch #final fantasy sixteen #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy #Clive Rosfield

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duskwoodraven · 1 year ago

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I feel moved to speak, sooner rather than later because I believe time is of the essence and this needs to be understood in order to keep Moonvale from crumbling to the ground completely.

This is not completely spoiler heavy, but it will discuss the game. I should note that unfortunately I have not finished the episode because I am struggling with the mini games in making progress. So I do not know how the episode ends, but I need to say this in order for me to rest.

I am very angry and disappointed with this game, and even more than that, I hold a great deal of second hand embarrassment for Everbyte.

One of the greatest reasons I respected these developers during Duskwood is that the game never felt like a cash grab like so many games do these days. The option to make a one time payment for complete access to Duskwood was fantastic, an option they should have carried to here and that is the biggest grievance I have.

There is no reason a game should cost hundreds of dollars to experience and enjoy. There is no reason for the prices of gems to be as expensive as they are. This is unacceptable Everbyte, and you should feel ashamed of it, you should know better.

The beauty of Duskwood and what set it apart was its feel of realism and the fact that every question had a reasonable answer. Your use of AI art has cheapened the look of your game, not enhanced it, not to mention it’s insulting to use generated art when there are many artists who are already losing jobs to AI, artists who would have been happy to work with you if given the chance. If the cost of commission is too high, then use of stock photos you had before was just fine, and I believe you should have kept it, I can’t look at Ash and Charlie’s profiles without it striking me as goofy.

Furthermore, the story does not make sense, we were able to read chats because Jake made it possible for us, now it just feels like the return of a gimmick with no explanation, the same with the mini games, in the past we did mini games to “hack” into Hannah’s cloud, now we do it “just because”. It’s lost its feeling of meaning, not to mention most private chats are behind the gem paywall, which we never had to deal with before!

The characters seem more plain to me, or maybe they are loveable but I’ll never know because again, paywall. I can’t read the premium options and get to know them deeper because of it. There are also no profiles like before, which is awful because we can’t look back on past video calls and links and we can’t see what these characters are all about, their personality is gone.

Even MC’s answer options seem blander, more vanilla, repetitive or one directional.

I say this truthfully from my soul, if this was the style of of game you dropped but for Duskwood instead, I never would have played it.

I would have never fallen in love with it.

I would have never made this blog and would never have waited years for every episode and a new game.

I would have never made art and countless theories.

I would have deleted the game immediately.

So I’m asking you, begging you, please change this for our sakes, and especially for yours.

Because despite all my gripes and anger, and everything I’ve said, I know you guys have actually worked hard on this game because the evidence is there, hidden beneath it all.

I love the actual real life people you have for Adam and Eric, I was so moved to help Adam when he started to cry. I want to know why he knows us and wants our help. I laughed when Eric told us he had tripped, and I do want to get to know him. I even wished to lovingly twist Charlie’s neck! That is the game I remember loving, its writing and characters, I can see the potential here.

But you need to change something, otherwise I cannot support this game, I cannot force myself to play it. I will drop Moonvale.

Give the players a one time payment option for 100% complete access to the game, access to all premium options. That’s the least I feel anyone could ask of you and is biggest reason you are getting this backlash.

To my fellow players, if you agree with any of what I said then I ask you not to pay for anything until Everbyte changes to make their game more affordable. Don’t be quiet and please voice your opinions everywhere they can see it. That’s the only way something could change.

I am so sorry this is what we got… you all deserve better.

#i feel sick #make a change everbyte #moonvale #everbyte studio #everbyte #duskwood #moonvale x duskwood #moonvale release #moonvale game #moonvale everbyte

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mania-sama · 2 months ago

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april fic recs!

so sorry there aren't that many fics on the list this month! i've been pretty busy (traveled across the globe, lots of schoolwork, finals), so i haven't had much time to read any fics. however i finished school literally on the last day of april so i should have a lot more free time now! may should be looking a little more full lol

organization:

➼ fandom

✎ [Fic Name] by [Author] ❧ rating, word count (in progress tagged if work is not completed) ❧ relationship tags ❧ my description/notes ❧ Quotation

featured fandoms: 9-1-1 | marvel cinematic universe | twenty thousand leagues under the sea

more of my fic recommendations: january | february | march | may

➼ 9-1-1

✎ a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things ❧ not rated, 11.1k ❧ evan "buck" buckley/eddie diaz, evan "buck" buckley & christopher diaz & eddie diaz ❧ i am once again reccing the most kudo'd fic for a fandom, but can you blame me? this fic is phenomenal. it's giving voltron fandom langst in the best way possible. there is a certain feeling to being beaten down and, instead of getting back up, you lay there for a second. you know you will get back up, eventually, maybe, but just for a moment, you keep your cheek on the ground and let nose breathe in the dirty concrete. you lay there and feel your pain and let yourself bleed, for just a moment. that's what this fic is. it's also brilliantly written, of course. everything from the dialogue, the actions, and the characterizations feels like it was ripped straight out of a deleted episode of the show. the author just understands these people like no other. and because of that, they ended up writing a story that felt eerily familiar to the early plot beats of season 4 before it s4 came out. their OC military vet in the story was also amazing; i could read a fic dedicated to just his and buck's interactions. ❧ The other man raises his hands. “Sorry, when I see someone running at 3 in the morning like the devil’s running after them, I assume they’ve seen action.”

✎ This Old Man Thought It Weak by orphan_account ❧ mature, 27.3k ❧ evan "buck" buckley/eddie diaz ❧ i am really impressed by this fic. it takes an approach to eddie's parents that i really like. often in 9-1-1 fics, i've found that people tend to demonize eddie's parents a bit. which is a fine interpretation, but this fic takes a bit of a twist. they really are just parents, and eddie was once a kid that took in every microexpression, every word, every movement, and copied it into his own person, as a child is apt to do. it affects his adulthood, where he finds it hard to relax and let go because, although unintentional, the upbringing his parents had affected his upbringing, and his upbringing is affecting his child's. it's a cycle of accidents. and then there is his understanding of therapy, where he's a bit angry and a bit upset and a bit unwilling, but frank won't let him go. frank is kind of the goat in this. anyway, it's a great reflection on the subtle impressions that life has on you. ❧ “Frank, I’m starting to think you want something to be wrong with me today.”

✎ What's Died Will Never Stay Dead by HMSLusitania ❧ teen and up, 3.3k ❧ fire fam, evan "buck" buckley & bobby nash, evan "buck" buckley/eddie diaz, athena grant/bobby nash ❧ while i did immensely enjoy this fic and am reccing it for what it is, i'm also choosing this one somewhat to recommend all of HMSLusitania's 9-1-1 works. because they are absolutely great. i haven't read them all, but i've been making my way through them, and to say that i've enjoyed myself would be a grand understatement. so if you like buddie and you like 9-1-1, read their works and i promise you will not be disappointed. but anyway; of the works i've read by this author, this one has been my favorite. it's a creative take on the movie The Old Guard, which is basically just a movie where a bunch of people who can die but not really fight a bunch of this. the author essentially applies the concept to 9-1-1 canon, and it is. REALLY cool. the loneliness bobby feels for being the only immortal, only one alive for hundreds of years, with no one to turn to; to then finding a family that can live like him. or rather, die like him. talking about it anymore will lead to spoilers, but the fic overall captures emotions and reframes canon scenes to fit the au SO WELL it actually astonishes me. absolutely phenomenal work and i was so entertained by it. found family always wins. ❧ Spending an eternity with people you love isn’t a curse

✎ Keeping It Quiet by bellabrady ❧ general audiences, 3.2k ❧ evan "buck" buckley/eddie diaz ❧ just a really cute and funny fic where buck, KNOWING he's terrible at hiding anything, tries to avoid talking to eddie in fear of blurting out that he's in love. but he's also really bad at that, too. the whole thing is a little ridiculous and very endearing, and also feels like something that could, potentially happen in the show if the writers were feeling a little silly goofy. ❧ His current strategy is to just switch rooms as often as possible, so Eddie can’t follow him fast enough. It’s not really working.

➼ marvel cinematic universe

✎ Friends Don’t by SunsetMaiden ❧ teen and up, 43.8k (in-progress) ❧ james "bucky" barnes/sam wilson ❧ THIS SERIES IS FCKING FUNNY. it will probably be in progress until the day the author dies, but that is for the best. i wanna keep reading the way these two dance around each other like their lives and everyone being exasperated. it makes me laugh everytime. the author comes up with a new ridiculous conversation or event that sam and bucky go through, act incredibly gay towards each other, and then pretend it's all normal. and then, everyone around them going, "?????." it's amazing every single time and it makes me laugh. it's borderline crack, except for the one or two where it gets a little bit into the feels. fingers crossed that the series does complete with them finally pulling themselves together, but i am content with anything the author does. my favorite fic of the series is probably "Friends Don't Wear That Shade of Green" because sharon is so unabashedly horny and deviously so, but they are all great. ❧ "You already are Sammy, Sammy,” Bucky returned, sounding so damn fond that Sarah wondered how much longer this nonsense could go on. She’d never understood that poorly drawn ‘now kiss’ meme until Bucky followed Sam home.

✎ sharing a drink they call loneliness by midnightdragons ❧ general audiences, 6.7k ❧ james "bucky" barnes & sam wilson ❧ MIDNIGHTDRAGONS MY LOVE....... everytime they post a new sambucky (always read as platonic or romantic for reader pleasure) fic, an angel gains its wings. to be clear, they do always right with a focus on bucky. in this one, bucky struggles (like usual). and it's a banger 6 thousand words of him coming to understand that he doesn't want to be alone anymore, and it's 6 thousand words of sam subtly telling him he doesn't have to be alone anymore, and it's 6 thousand words of bucky realizing that sam is a little alone, too, despite his family being alive and despite being captain america. also he has a panic attack for good measure, and i like the way this author writes panic attacks. they just know. they posted a thunderbolts* sambucky fic today and i am very excited. i was WAITING for the fic to drop actually. it most likely will be on may's fic rec list. :) ❧ Not having to talk to anyone was nice, but . . . he found that he really didn’t like being alone, and there were only so many nights he could spend reclined in the seat of his car, unable to sleep because of the ache in his chest, before he admitted that to himself.

➼ twenty thousand leagues under the sea

✎ A Tale of Land and Sea by Mr_Pinniped ❧ mature, 6.0k ❧ conseil/ned land ❧ you know, i read this book, and i thought that ned land and conseil were a little fruity, so i went on to ao3 to see what i could find. and oh boy. i found THIS series. i cannot describe. what this series makes me feel. it's glorious. it's funny. it's honestly so good that it makes me sad. it is LITERALLY as if jules verne wrote the fics himself. it's goofy. it's serious. it's written in this 19th century language for no apparent reason other to match the book series, and damn does the author do it well. i hope to god they continue this fic where these two get married on land or something because i would literally sell my soul for it. JUST ONE MORE FIC. JUST ONE MORE OKAY. all of the titles are a nomenclature classification of a certain marine animal or fish, and i absolutely adore it. it's so cute and so in line with the book. i would also like to use this opportunity to say that i usually go onto ao3 just to see what's out there and maybe read a fic or two of ANY movie/tv show/book i consume. and that is how we come upon this delightful series ❧ Conseil’s hands were small, and his fingers slender. The ring would probably fit him.

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