or-fanfiction

By Royal Decree (Part 7)

Summary: Royal AU; you are engaged to be married to the Crown Prince James Barnes. That’s the last thing you want, especially when you meet him and find out he’s the opposite of everything you had pictured. How will you get through it all?

Word Count: 3,313

Warnings: None.

“By Royal Decree” Masterlist

A/N: I finally found my inspiration! Enjoy this part, guys! Also, I have unresolved feelings for a certain movie, so that’s in there. Kudos to those who pick it up

Originally posted by billy-kaplan


King George summoned his son to his office, waiting for him with his back to the door, looking out to the gardens. He had chosen this room as his study for specifically this reason. It offered a beautiful view and Winnifred also loved to walk through the gardens every late afternoon. They would share smiles through the glass as she made conversation with the ladies in her company. It was always a great way for the king to temporarily unwind before he had to go back to his responsibilities.

“Prince James is here, Your Majesty,” the butler announced.

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Paid To Hate You (Part 5)

Summary: When you audition for a role in a reality show you’d never thought to meet Bucky Barnes, the guy who turned your teenage years into hell. You’d also never thought that you’d have to pretend to be his ex girlfriend on the show.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 934

Warnings: insulting?

A/N: I am getting better at keeping this short lmao. I hope you guys like this part just as much as the other parts. Please tell me what you think!

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Of course Tony found a way to use the face punching aka nose breaking scene perfectly. He came up with the idea that Bucky had been cheating on you and that you had found out and punched his nose, because he hadn’t said a word about it and even dared to kiss you as if nothing happened. This way Tony could keep the dialogue he had so far and you and Bucky only had to end the scene which you absolutely loved because it meant Bucky was back in the blood covered shirt and they had applied a lot of fake blood on his nose.

 And besides that, you were also allowed to scream at him as much as you wanted and hit him against the arm. Over and over and over again.

God damn, you loved your new job.

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Lucky

I started this on Monday and in light of all that we found out today… I decided to fill in some details and finish it. It’s quick, and it’s had even less proofreading than normal, but considering I wasn’t going to do anything before the pain kink one… I wanted to roll this out. Harry, please don’t throw anything else at me to inspire me? x

Gentle Reminder: requests are closed! For real. 

“Post came,” Harry calls to you as he hangs his keys on the hook by the door.

“Is there anything for me?” you call back to him, the gentle thudding of his feet as he winds his way through the hallway getting louder with his approach. “I’m waiting on a new card after mine got all scratched up.”

“Think it’s here, yeah,” he says as he comes into view. His hair is still under the beanie he’d worn outside, covering his thick curls on the unusually crisp September day. His gray jumper has one sleeve rolled up to his elbow, prominently showing off his arm of tattoos and he stretches it out to you to give you the thin envelope you’ve been waiting for.

“Thanks, love,” you tell him absentmindedly while opening it.

“Got some magazines, too, love,” he says. “Want to take a look?

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[Lick Your Wounds]

Series: Fairy Tail.
Pairing: Gruvia.
Setting: Post-Canon.

Prompt: The way you said I love you: As a thank you.

A/N: I really wanted to write scar kisses because of the recent chapters hahaha. So here it is. This is for @unisonraidd​, because she deserves some fluff in her life. <3

Lick your wounds: to spend time getting back your strength or happiness after a defeat or bad experience.

Juvia flinched at herself in the mirror.

This wasn’t the first time Gray had seen her do that and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Since the war had ended and the town had been renovated, Juvia had spent little time in the presence of reflective surfaces. He’d never seen such an aversion to mirrors until he’d watched Juvia dress herself that morning. And now the moon was looming in the horizon and it was Juvia’s turn to use the bath. As it had been for the last thirty minutes.

Every now and then she would glance up from the floor to see if he was watching her. And every time, with deft precision, Gray would avert his gaze to the bed. 

‘Are you all right?’ he asked, easing himself up on the bed as he watched her. ‘You look like you’re struggling over there.’

Juvia flicked a wrist to absently dismiss his concern. ‘Juvia is fine.’

She wasn’t, but Gray said nothing else on the matter. It wasn’t that unfastening her shirt was difficult, or even that she struggled with the process, rather, every time she popped a button open, Juvia was quick to fasten it shut again.

Growing tired with her struggle, Gray clambered off the bed and shuffled across the room towards her. She didn’t even notice him coming. His hand snaked around her waist and Juvia, in a panic, latched onto that hand and quickly thrust it away from her. Gray’s eyes widened at the flush of tears on her cheeks.

‘Juvia?!’

She rubbed at her cheeks and let out a frustrated groan. ‘I’m sorry.’

Gray could only stare at her. 

‘Juvia did something terrible. Something horrible.’

Gray placed a hesitant hand atop her head. She nuzzled into his warmth, albeit reluctantly, and with a distance that made his cold heart swell and crack in his chest.

‘What’re you apologising for?’ he asked. ‘It’s my fault. I startled you.’

Juvia reached up to grab his wrist in both hands. She was trembling. ‘Gray…I’m sorry. Juvia is sorry. She hurt you deeply. Because of Juvia…because of me…you almost…’

Gray’s mind rushed back to his fight with Natsu. To the things he’d almost given up because his heart ached in her absence. It wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t have known. He’d never told her. Never told her how much she meant to him. She didn’t know that her death, her sacrifice, would plunge him into the darkness. He’d ached for her. Truly ached for her.

And, for the first time in his life, Gray had been offered a kindness. She had been returned to him, returned to the guild, where she belonged. In that respect, Gray was happy to have lost her. Just once. It showed him the truth of his feelings. Let him open up where he’d once been closed off. 

Gray lowered his hand from her head and took a cautious step towards her. She watched him through pained eyes, eyes lost to a sea of memories.

It had been a year since the day she died.

He knew now what the problem was. Knew now why she’d been avoiding his gaze. Avoiding mirrors and windows and glass tables. 

Taking her face into his hands, Gray leaned down to kiss her lips, a gentle touch to remind her of the feelings he kept stored deep down inside himself. The feelings he wanted to share with her, if only his courage would let him.

Her arms slackened by her sides, leaving her vulnerable to his every touch. He slid his left hand down her side, let it trace the shape of her hips, before bringing it back up to wrestle with the buttons of her shirt. One by one he opened them until, suddenly, her hand reached in to stop him.

‘Gray…’ she breathed, her breath hot against his lips.

‘Here,’ he said, taking her hand and pressing it against his exposed stomach. ‘You’re not alone, Juvia.’

She traced her fingertips along his scar, the scar that should’ve ended his life. A reminder of the things he’d almost lost. The things he didn’t want to lose.

Walking her back towards the vanity table – and the mirror sitting upon it – Gray kissed her again more fervently as she pressed her palm flat against his scar. He unfastened the rest of her buttons, pushed the shirt from her shoulders, and quickly spun her around to face the mirror.

They stood together in the glass, their scars prominent and proud. Juvia’s shaking began to stop. She stared at herself for the first time in weeks, stared at the scar on her body, at the shape of her figure and the pattern of tanned skin where she’d caught the sun on her chest.

‘They’re…the same,’ she whispered.

Gray nodded that it was so. ‘Yeah. Cool, aren’t they?’

Juvia laughed at that, the sound as peaceful as the first snow in winter. 

Spinning her around to face him, Gray kissed her again and hoisted her up onto the vanity table. She swung her legs around his waist and urged him closer with her heels. Gray left a trail of kisses on her neck as he worked himself between her legs, both hands gliding across her sides and up her back. One by one those kisses took in the warm taste of her skin. He kissed down to her chest, kissing her tanned skin and her warm cleavage, before venturing down towards her stomach – and the scar that was waiting there for him. Her body tensed when he kissed it for the first time, only to melt under the gradual warmth it left behind.

‘Gray…’ she moaned, her fingers combing through his hair. And then she said, in a whisper, ‘Thank you.’

Gray, still crouched on the balls of his feet, laughed against her stomach. He leaned back to glance up at her face, taking her in for what felt like the first time. She laid her soul bare before him, let him drink her in as long as he needed to.

His mind reached back to all the times she’d been by his side. To the times she drove him wild with frustration. To the times she scolded him. To the times when she’d never abandoned him. She’d always been right there, watching, waiting. He’d made her wait long enough.

‘No, Juvia,’ he whispered, letting the memories warm his heart. ‘Thank you.’

anonymous asked:

Investigate why he's crying in the closeup with short hair 🕵🏻‍♀️🕵🏻‍♀️🕵🏻‍♀️🕵🏻‍♀️🕵🏻‍♀️

“London Fog” - One Shot

This is probably going to go missing in all the hype of harry photos, but I needed - NEEDED to write this.

________________________

           “Love, Love”, was the first thing you heard that morning, between small strokes on your cheek and kisses on your neck, his warm and completely bare body cradling you from behind now becoming more prominent as you woke up. It took you a beat to realize what was happening, before you could actually hear his voice. There was a slight tremor added to his normal morning grumble – but the thing you heard the most was enthusiasm, and even before you could physically see him, you could hear him smiling.

           Grinning, you snuggled yourself closer into him, feeling that he now had put some sort of underwear on his hips as you could feel the hair on his legs as you intertwined yours with his.

           “Hi”, you smiled and even though your sleepy eyes were closed, still, you kissed the bicep that was wrapped around the top of your head, his hand on his own ear as he smiled down at you, running a hand up your thigh, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

           “Time to get up, baby”, he cooed softly in your ear, his nose running along the edge of it, making you shiver and stretch, turning your head so you could fully see him and plant a kiss on his full lips, opening your eyes to find his tired ones pulled into a half-grin. He was looking at you, again – probably watching you sleep. But this morning was different – he was rushing somewhere and once you got your bearings straight, you realized that the sun wasn’t even blaring through the windows in his home in England. Either that or it was raining, but you didn’t hear anything.

           “Whyyy”, you groan out and lie face down on the pillow and he grins, clambering up to straddle your bare thighs, scratching up your back lightly with his fingernails, and back down until he reaches your bum, which he smacks quickly. You’re about to protest when you feel his warm lips on your shoulder blade as he holds your waist.

           “S’the anniversary of our first date”, he reminds you, and your eyes pop open, seeing black through the pillow you were hiding in and he sniggers, “Didn’ forget, did you?” he smiles and knows very well that you did, in fact, forget.

           “No”, you mumbled into the pillow wearily.

           “Right”, he lightly nipped your skin and pinched your waist, causing you to squirm and flip over to face him. He was a vision, a light (even through it was still really dark), and an annoyance – but he was your annoyance.

           “Why so early”, glancing at the clock that read 5:30am, then back at him, you reached out to lovingly touch his warm chest, which he responded with grabbing one of your wrists, bringing your palm to his mouth and kissing it gently, taking a deep breath in.    

           “Want to show you something”, he grinned, “ever see the sunrise in England?”

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#199: The Boys Call Him Whipped

A/N:

This is also one of the preferences I’ve always wanted to write hahahaa! Also this is the first time I won’t attach The Math Teacher to a preference.. Kinda sad… I can also really relate to this because everyone calls my boyfriend whipped and to be honest he doesn’t do anything on my command, it’s on his free will… xD 

Find my Masterlist here // Follow my Wattpad Account here

Luke:

“No you’re not coming in here with a glass of water!” Michael warned, pointing up at Luke with wide eyes. “You barely touched your beer and now you want to drink water? What the fuck happened to gaming night?” The frustration was clear in Michael’s voice while watching him take a seat down next to Calum who was focusing on the TV screen rather than participating in the current situation. “I’m in my car.” “We live in the same house! Where are you going?” Michael questioned frustrated and had to pause the game to look at him. “I’m uh-, going to pick up Y/N at a club later.” “And she can’t walk home by herself?” Luke fiddled with his fingers while smiling softly, understanding Michael’s frustration but still found it amusing. “I’d prefer to pick her up rather than having her find home herself. You never know if there are creepy lads outside after midnight.” Michael rolled his eyes almost as if he was disagreeing, “You’re whipped, dude.” Luke’s eyebrows rose by his statement and stood up from the couch with the glass in his hand, wanting to ‘spice’ it up with some lemon. “It’s not about being whipped,” He gave Michael a nudge in the head with his hand, “It’s about being protective towards your girl, you know having a girlfriend and all that.” A cheeky smirk was spreading on Luke’s lips as looked over his shoulder to glance at Michael and placed his hand by his mouth in whisper. “Oh wait. You don’t have one. Yikes.”

Calum:

“What do you mean you can’t come over? We’ve had this deal for weeks.” Calum could hear the frustration in Ashton’s voice, totally imagining how his eyebrows would be furrowed and he would run his hand through his curls. “I even showered this morning! What is keeping you from going out of the house?” Calum’s eyes adverted towards your form standing in front of the mirror, one of his flannels hanging loosely over your arms and accompanied with revealing panties. It took him a full moment not to say anything but watching you remove the towel from your hair and placed it on top of the dresser to reach out for your blow-drier and your hairbrush. “I’m sick?” He almost furrowed his eyebrows confused by himself, he knew that it didn’t sound the slightest convincing but he still took the shot. He noticed how you bend your head down giving him a full view of your ass, smiling over at his direction with your tongue sticking out of your mouth. “Yes, definitely sick.” “I can hear Y/N’s blow-drier in the background I’m not an idiot, Cal you’re so fucking whipped!” “Sorry mate.” Calum grinned lightly and hung up, throwing his phone towards the bed and made it bounce up and down. You watched him in the corner of your eye and stopped in track when he wrapped his arms around yours, turned off your blow-drier and gave a sweet kiss to your neck. “Sometimes you’re much more distracting than the boys, gorgeous.”

Michael:

“Yes I can taste the burning feeling it’s time for some more shots-, why are you only wearing a pair of boxers and a lazy t-shirt? Where’s the flannel and for the matter, where the hell are your pants?” Calum’s expression changed completely the second Michael arrived back to the front part of the bus, his eyes widening by seeing the messy shots in the kiwi boy’s hands. “I’m not going.” Calum’s jaw fell down to his feet by Michael’s statement and he could feel droplets of tequila running down his chin. “You’re what?” “I’m not going.” Michael responded once again, knowing exactly how Calum would react and how offended he would get by this. “Before you say anything, I know we had this planned but Y/N isn’t feeling well so I thought I’d skip the clubbing tonight and watch a movie with her in the bunk instead.” If it was possible, Calum’s jaw would be able to touch the ground. He didn’t know what to say for a full minute but stared at the bleached haired boy with lips parted. “But she seemed well a few hours ago.” “I don’t know what she’s feeling but I’m just making sure that she’ll be okay later tonight in case if something happens.” “Bro, you’re whipped.” He stated, but Michael still remained the smirk on his face knowing that you would also be listening from his bunk. “I’m getting laid and you’re not so do tell me, who is winning in the end?”

Ashton:

”Ashton? Mate where ever you?” The sounds of the boys’ voiced were mixed in between in the hallways, confusion written on their faces and it didn’t get any better when they found what they had been looking for. “I swear this is not what it looks like.” Ashton exclaimed with wide eyes, sitting up from the bed and adjusted the white bathrobe around him. “Are you wearing a facial mask?” Luke was the first one to speak up, feeling the other boys stepping in his heels and knocking into his back when stopping in track. “What? It’s deep cleansing seaweed, Y/N says it’s great for my dry skin during the winter!” They all looked at each other by Ashton’s exclaim, hearing you faintly shower in the bathroom while he waited for you on the bed. “Dude… I don’t even know what to say.” Calum said almost too stunned to let anything else out. “You’re fucking whipped, holy shit.” Luke was fast to exclaim, interrupting him. “No I’m not.” Ashton was fast to argue, his eyebrows furrowing. “Yes you are! Did she force you to do this?” “No, I did it because I wanted too?” He responded, quivering an eyebrow by Luke’s question and wanted him to continue. “Exactly.” Silence fell upon the hotel room when realization seemed to hit Ashton, his eyebrows furrowing again when he all of the sudden widened his eyes. “Oh my fucking god you’re right I’m turning into a girl!”

One Mission

Summary: It’s your first solo mission and things don’t go according to plan.
Word Count: 1,666
Characters: Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes
Warnings: Language, angst, blood, & injury.
Author’s Note: I have NO clue where this came from. Bloody GIF after the break. GIF not mine. Yours? Let me know. GIF credit [x]

You thought you could handle a mission on your own. You were wrong. So very wrong.

Gritting your teeth, your shoulder slammed into the wall. ‘Son of a bitch,’ you shouted.

You pulled your hand away from your belly and almost passed out. Thick red blood covered every inch of your skin, dripped off your nails and down your forearm. You were officially fucked.

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Being pregnant with Loki’s child would involve:

  • Many lustful stares from him as your stomach begins to visibly grow.
  • Needing Asgardian Healers to intervene on your plummeting internal body temperature.
  • Finding Loki following you from time to time, but never letting him on that you know.
  • So.  Much.  Eating.
  • Loki’s hands migrating to your stomach at night as he falls asleep.
  • Loki becoming much more protective than usual.
  • Him attending every Healer appointment with you.
  • Softly talking to your stomach in the mornings before he realizes you’re awake.
You Think I’m Sexy When I’m Jealous, Printsessa? - Pietro x Reader

(Prompt List)

Anonymous asked:
132, 111, 35 for either Cap or Pietro? 🔥


35 - “That… That really hurt.”
111 - “She’s really into that, you can tell.”
132 - “Can you act cute for one day instead of always being your sexy/broody self?”

Originally posted by always-love-books

Warnings - swearing, Jealous!Pietro, sexual references, making out-ish, kissing of the neck.

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Finding Home

Author: Emma

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mild Violence

Author’s Note: This is the first part in a series I’m working on. I’m feeling wildly self conscious lately about my writing so if this fic doesn’t get much activity I’ll probably just scrap it. Also, this was just a quick intro but there will be a whole bunch or fluff, smut, and angst in later chapters. Let me know what y'all think?

Originally posted by morefelton


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In a world of our own - Dean Winchester x Reader (x Jensen Ackles)

Title: In a world of our own

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: None

Summary: Dean knows you very well in his world, although there are parts to you that leave him wondering if there is more to your life than what you let show. That you are not what they believe, and he gets to realize a lot when he meets the other you. Jensen’s wife.

“I still don’t get it.” Dean grumbled, running a frustrated hand through his hair “Isn’t that Misha dude supposed to bedead? I mean he looked very much dead to me last time.”

“Yeah but- but isn’t everything else weird to you? I mean even- even the driver, Clint- no, Clif- don’t you remember him… looking a little bit different?”

“Different how?” he raised an eyebrow as they both made their way to Jared’s house.

“Different, Dean! Different! Like- like this house! Was Jared’s house this way last time we were here? Or- or the director, do you remember him? He was completely different, not- not like this! I am telling you something is up! Something big!”

“Yeah well frankly I don’t give a crap about it anymore! Because yes there is something big and-” Dean took a look around him, an eyebrow raising “It’s apparently not this house” he trailed off “Wasn’t it freaking different the previous time?” he mumbled and Sam gave him a look of ‘I-told-you-so’.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! Something is not right here, and it’s starting to scare me! Who knows what we’ll come across now!”

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Crush {bucky x reader}

Summary: A short and simple drabble on the effect that Bucky Barnes has on you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Wordcount: 700+

Warnings: none!

Tagging: @matteblackvevo @5secondsofmerrick @wolvrins @procrastinatingvirgo@tearsandbloodofmyenemies@canikeepit-imkeepingit @crazychick010@blueswallow5 @winterbxchanan @emmaplum@panickingwiththefalloutboys @sarcasmismyfirstlove @directionerrugbylover @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x@clinthawkeve @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl @pyusarah @satanicedition @bxckybbxrnes @blueswallow5 @gwilson937  @karollbey 


Originally posted by stanxstan

You never said it aloud because it wasn’t something that needed to be heard. Everyone thought the same. Everyone understood it.

Bucky Barnes was one helluva man.

It was the strength of his angular jaw when you stole glances at him from the side. It was the tenderness in his eyes, no matter who he was looking at. Sometimes, you noticed a tinge of sadness and distress in his furrowed brows. And it made you want to know him more.

You were lucky enough to catch him on one of the elevators in the Avengers tower on some days. But those days never came frequently enough. He was always tense – pushing his weight down on the railings lining the inner wall of the elevator like he was going to do some reverse push-ups. Sometimes you wondered if he was just flexing. Most times you hope he was flexing just to impress you. Either way, you enjoyed it, though it had you more conflicted about the feelings you were beginning to harbour towards him.

Steve put him on more intel missions recently, and that meant more research work and lots of studying. And you couldn’t deny that you thought the sky had opened up and felt the sun beaming down at you when you saw him in Dr. Helen Cho’s Korean language class. You never would have guessed that there was a language out there that didn’t already know.

He sat next to you sometimes. And he knew your name right from the get-go. Working for and with the Avengers made things more awkward sometimes, especially as the team started growing under both Steve and Tony’s direction. Everyone was perceptive, everyone read up on the others even if they never spoke before. At least you had a little something with Sergeant Barnes now.

The little moments you had with him started growing on you. He always held the door for you when you entered the room together. Sometimes he waited outside the room for you when you stayed back to ask Dr. Cho some questions. He walked back to the living quarters with you too, matching your pace even though he could have gotten back a lot quicker. The 1930s were long gone but with Bucky and Steve alive, chivalry would never be dead either.

You talked about everything and anything under the sun with him, from Tony’s new suits, to what Vision’s recent fascination with basil and even asked about your family. In some ways, he was a lot duller than the legends and stories made him out to be. It was a slight let down at first, but this simplicity drew you in deeper.

So, it didn’t take long for you to want more.

You imagined him grabbing your hand as you walked down the hallways, and hope he would ask for a detour to the kitchen for a quick bite with you. You dreamed of him leaning in when you were both alone in the elevator together. You had fantasies of him knocking on your room door, ready to confess that he senses the sexual tension to and is ready to do something about it.

However, nothing ever happened. Nothing ever changed.

You were well past the point of infatuation. It started to feel like something more than a crush. But you kept your cool each time you met him, until one day

“Y/N, is there something on my chin?”

“No?”

“Then why do you keep staring at it?”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, you’re doing it right now.”

“I’m not sure if you realise how tall you are, Bucky, but it kinda hurts my neck to tilt my head like that for some eye contact.”

He smirked. “Are you sure it’s not ‘cause you find my dashing good looks too overwhelming?”

“Ah.. so you do know that you’re hot shit. Explains the all the flexing you do, outside the gym.”

“So you do think I’m hot?”

“I mean looking at that face. We could get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to match it up with the Fibonacci sequence and scientifically prove it. Hope you thank your parents every day, some of us aren’t that lucky in the DNA department, you know.”

“Hey, you aren’t too bad your yourself.” And he stared down at you, looking straight into your eyes, waiting for you to react.

You let out a breathy chuckle. “Shall we get dinner?”

“Is that a date?”

“We’ll see. What do you want it to be?”

“It’s a date then.”


i’m sorry i was so dead with the writing for a while now, i’m still going through a minor writers’ block along with tons of assignments from school. (i have a group presentation every week for this one advertising class i take at uni). i also realise that my theme doesn’t seem to be working, i have no idea, so you may only be able to read this on the Tumblr app. will try to get that done tomorrow at least.

hope you guys have been well! 

Open Water: Pt. 8

A Bucky x Reader / AU

Master List

A/N: Sorry this took so long loves. Let me know what you think! I love hearing from you! ♥

Word Count: 1,375

Warnings:
- none.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

“Bucky!” you screamed, making him almost jump out of his skin. “A boat!”

He spun around and flailed his arms, as if on fire. You know he saw the boat too, its lights sparkling across the water like tiny fairies. Acting quickly, he grabbed a stick and shoved it into the fire, the end smouldering and blowing acrid smoke in your direction. Coughing from inhaling the black smog, you grabbed your own stick and followed suit.

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anonymous asked:

"you keep calling me over to get rid of spiders from your apartment and i’m pretending i don’t know you’re not afraid of them at all because i miss you too"

She had left a few of her books at his place, a pair of leggings and a few shirts, a half filled bottle of that cherry body lotion he had been loath to return. He’d packed up the small collection of her belongings into a bag and walked the distance to her apartment that night, climbed the stairs rather than take the elevator, and came to a stop in front of her door with the light bag in his grasp feeling like a thousand pounds.

Was it officially over once he gave her things back?

Rick swallows down the bitter taste of sorrow spreading on his tongue and knocks on her door, prepares to wait for her to cross the distance from her bedroom to the front door, but she’s easing open the surface in half the time.

“Castle, hey,” she greets on a murmur, her voice rough and her eyes so tired as they meet his in the dim lighting of her hallway. It’s ten o’clock on a weeknight and he always expects her to look exhausted considering her job, considering… other things, but he doesn’t quite expect her to look so ragged, so drained that she doesn’t even attempt to hide it from him.

“Hey,” he answers back before the pause grows too long. “I, uh - brought some of your things that you forgot at my place.”

He lifts the bag between them, the motion jerky and awkward, and watches the frown that claims her lips carve deeper.

“Oh,” she mumbles, curling her fingers around the recyclable bag he uses for groceries. “Thanks.”

Castle shifts in her doorway, the words all tangling on his tongue, tripping over one another in hopes of escaping his mouth. “I just thought - I didn’t know if you’d need… why are you sleeping on the couch?”

Beckett follows the trail of his eyes past her shoulder, towards the sight of her couch draped in a throw blanket and a pillow he recognizes from her bedroom, visible from his spot in the entryway.

“That was fast,” she mutters and he tilts his head at her in silent question until she huffs. “You’ve been here for a matter of seconds, not even in the apartment, and you’re already nosing your way back into my business.”

The corner of his mouth quirks, unable to help it, even though it feels strange to have his lips curl in amusement again.

“Just friendly concern, Beckett,” he answers easily, but his gaze lingers on her side without his permission, following the subtle brush of her fingers to the sensitive strip of skin that lies beneath the t-shirt she wears, where her ribs had been pushed apart to make room for the scalpel that had scraped inside her in search of a bullet that had damaged her heart.  “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Rick,” she says, softer now. “There was a spider in my room-”

“You still have that phobia?”

“Like you don’t?” she tosses back quickly, their banter picking up again so easily, and damn, it makes him miss her even more than he already does. “And you know it’s not like I’m actually afraid of them, I just don’t like knowing there’s an eight-legged insect somewhere in my room while I’m unconscious.”

“Okay, fair point, but my fear doesn’t stop me from sleeping in my bedroom,” Castle teases her, earning an exasperated roll of her eyes.

“It’s not fear,” she insists, and yeah, he almost forgot that nothing scares Kate Beckett.

Not death, and definitely not spiders.

“Want me to hunt down the suspected spider so you can sleep in your actual bed?”

Kate arches an eyebrow at him, but surprises him, takes a step back to allow him entry into her apartment, a place he hasn’t set foot in since before her shooting. Before he finally realized that she was never going to stop, that he couldn’t stand by anymore, couldn’t watch her die.

“And what exactly are you going to do if you find the spider, Castle?” she inquires, closing the door behind him and locking it with a series of clicks. “Because if I remember correctly, you’re the one of us who can’t stand them.”

“We will work as a team here,” he decides, striding towards her bedroom before cutting back his pace, remembering she can’t exactly match it just yet, her scars slowing her down. “I will locate the spider, you dispose of said spider, and we all live in peace.”

“Mm, you make it sound easy,” she chuckles from behind him, leaning against the doorjamb to her bedroom while he enters a space he had once frequented quite often, memories of stumbling through the door to her bed, mornings he woke tangled in sheets and sunlight with her, assaulting his senses for a second too long before he remembers why he’s here.

Just returning her things and rescuing the woman he loves but can’t be with from a spider. Simple.

After twenty minutes, Beckett suggests he end the search.

“I’ll find him, don’t worry-”

“Castle,” she laughs quietly, having migrated back to the couch in the living room, able to watch him from her makeshift bed on the sofa. “It’s really not a big deal. It is getting late, though, and you should head back home. Don’t want to worry Alexis.”

He hopes she can’t see the way his body deflates with the sink of his heart as he sits balanced on his knees atop her bedroom floor, still scanning the area for any signs of movement, attempting to breathe through the devastation of her still caring about him, his daughter.

“She’ll be fine,” he promises her, but rises to his feet nonetheless, wincing through the pop of his knees. “She’s actually spending the week in LA with her mom before school starts up.”

“In that case, I’m the one worried about her,” Kate mumbles and he laughs as he gives up the search, enters the living room to find her curled on her good side, her eyes half-lidded and her lips quirked with amusement.

“I’ll tell her you said hi.”

“Please do,” she murmurs, her eyes drifting away from him to hide the sorrow, the shame. “Thanks for bringing my stuff over.”

Castle swallows past the irrational panic climbing his throat at her segue into an impending goodbye, the building ache ready to burst through his sternum the second he walks out the door.

“Not a problem,” he replies with a forced lift of his lips. “Sorry I couldn’t locate the eight-legged intruder.”

She shakes her head. “I’m sure it’s long gone anyway. I’m just too comfortable to move.”

He almost offers to carry her to bed before he thinks better of it. It would be too much, far too much.

“I could come back, you know,” he offers, the words out of his mouth before he even realizes what he’s saying, his brain too busy squashing one bad idea to stop the other from spilling free. “Do a routine check before you head to bed, make sure your space is arachnid free.”

Kate studies him for a long moment, holding the edge of the throw blanket close to her chest, her fingers moving beneath the fabric as if she’s attempting to soothe the rounded scar he knows resides there. “You don’t have to do that.”

No, and he shouldn’t, shouldn’t have been here as long as he was tonight.

“I want to.”

It’s the first thing he’s wanted since he had stormed out of her apartment for the last time earlier that month.

She still remains uncertain, her bottom lip back between her teeth, but she doesn’t argue, doesn’t tell him no, and he wonders if she misses him too.

“Okay.”

-

Castle makes it a routine of showing up in the evening, after he’s sure that she’ll be home from work and has had ample time to wind down from a day at the precinct, the strain he knows it must place on her still healing injuries. It’s been over four months since her shooting, since her surgery, but he knows her pain is still great, her body still tender, the healing process far from over even if she did receive the all clear from her doctors to return to the field.

He sweeps her room for spiders each time he stops by, never expecting to actually find any, yelping the first time he does and hissing her name, waiting in her en suite bathroom while she herds the spider onto a piece of paper with a plastic cup and deposits it onto the outside of her window, ignoring his high-pitched chants of ‘kill it, kill it, kill it’.

He continues finding reasons to return to her apartment even after that, claiming that the spider they had rid her home of could have made itself comfortable, moved a family into her room somewhere, and that he takes maintaining her peace of mind seriously. And he does, he really doesn’t want her to end up sleeping on her couch again over a damn spider, but they both know his reasoning for reappearing on her doorstep three times a week (at least) is weak. They both know, but neither of them acknowledges it and for the first time in four months, he’s glad.

Kate begins the habit of cooking for him one night, lasagna already in the oven and close to fully cooked by the time he arrives, the mouthwatering aroma of sauces, cheese, and garlic engulfing her apartment. They have dinner at her dining room table like they used to, talk about the precinct and his family, topics that are safe and familiar, as if everything has gone back to normal. And he so greatly wishes it had, wishes he could have his normal with her back.

He almost kisses her goodnight that evening once he’s finally grabbing his coat and heading out, his lips landing on the slash of her cheekbone.

He holds her through a brutal panic attack only a week later, when he shows up to witness her apartment in disarray, broken glass glittering across the living room floor, the blinds all drawn and the majority of her furniture either overturned or completely askew, the smell of whiskey on her breath when he descends to his haunches in front of her.

“I can’t do this anymore, Castle. I can’t,” she had choked out, curling trembling fingers at his wrists when he had cradled her crumpling face in his hands, caught the tears spilling down her cheek with his thumbs while she tried so hard just to breathe. “Everybody’s gone and they’re - they’ll finish the job-”

“No,” he had argued, his voice soft, but the word still fierce as it flew from his mouth. “No one’s going to kill you, Kate. And I’m here, I’m not going anywhere-”

“You already did,” she’d rasped, some of the panic draining from her eyes, leaving hollows of endless black staring back at him. “It was the right thing to do. I’m - radioactive, Castle.”

He doesn’t agree with that, is no longer sure that leaving her, letting things fall apart between them without putting up a fight, was the right thing to do after all.

Castle had avoided the glass and maneuvered them both onto the safety of the couch, cradled her body against his chest as the last of the aftershocks had shuddered through her.

“You know I love you,” he had whispered against her temple, closing his eyes when she had nodded.

“I know.”

He had stayed with her until she had fallen asleep and then, he had carried her to bed before returning to the living room to clean up her apartment, dispose of all the glass, the leftover liquor, and right the furniture. He had left her after midnight, walked through the door of his loft a half hour later to meet the worried eyes of his daughter’s on the couch.

“What are you doing, Daddy?”

He wishes he’d had an adequate answer for her. He resolves to retrieve one tonight, a mere 48 hours since he had picked her broken body from the floor and allowed the vivid beat of her pulse beneath his fingertips to soothe the fear that had spiked the second he had walked inside to see her drunk and petrified by her own shadow.

They had spoken on the phone the next morning, Kate had apologized, he’d told her there was nothing to be sorry for, sought only a promise from her, that she’d call him next time. But secretly, he hopes she won’t have to, that he’ll already be there.

Tonight, he’s at her door with a purpose, a bouquet of lilies in his arm and determination bubbling in his blood as he knocks on the wooden surface with his knuckles. He won’t leave until he has the definite answer he seeks.

“Castle,” she answers the door with a timid smile, some leftover embarrassment shimmering in her gaze, but he wastes no time on pleasantries, on reassurances. He came here on a mission and he executes phase one by lifting his hand to cradle the sharp angle of her jaw in his palm, holding her steady as he steps inside and seals a firm kiss to her mouth.

He feels her gasp against him, the stutter of her chest as he kisses her for the first time in four months, favoring her bottom lip before painting his tongue along the seam of her mouth, humming when she parts for him without hesitation, rises on her toes and slides her arms up his chest to grip the collar of his shirt.

The crinkle of cellophane between them has him gentling, stroking the hinge of her jaw with his thumb and brushing a parting kiss to her upper lip before drawing back, pleased when she still tries to follow, to reclaim.

“Kate.” Her eyes peel open, liquid pools of gold glittering back at him, and he feels his lips spread into a tentative smile. “Brought you flowers.”

Her gaze flickers to the lilies still balanced in the crook of his arm, barely spared from being crushed between the planes of their bodies, and Kate releases a haggard breath of laughter.

“They’re beautiful,” she murmurs, a familiar tenderness in her gaze before it returns to him with a question forming. “But something tells me you came here with a purpose and I’m guessing it’s one that doesn’t involve hunting for spiders.”

He wants to chuckle at her attempted joke, but his heart is beginning to beat too fast for him to keep up with, breathe past, because it all comes down to this conversation. The same conversation they had so many months ago that had ultimately led to him finally walking out on her, feeling like he had no other choice.

“I can’t lose you again,” he murmurs, watching the smile, the light in her eyes, fall away, the fingers still knotted in his shirt collar beginning to slip. “I love you too much to… I can’t give you up, Kate. I never wanted to in the first place and I think I’ve made that pretty clear over the last few months.”

“Castle,” she breathes, but he isn’t done, can’t let her chime in now or he’ll lose his nerve.

“I know you need justice, I would never ask you to let that go, and if a partner is what you need me to be, I’ll be it. We’ll dive back into your mother’s case together and this time, we’ll-”

“No,” she groans, arching on her toes again to slant her mouth over his, a soft whimper of pain escaping her when she lifts her arms higher to band around his neck. “I made the wrong choice, Rick. I will find my mother’s killer and I will bring him to justice, but I can’t keep - I need you, Castle. I love you.”

He’s wordless, all of his carefully crafted speeches and arguments having abandoned him at the sudden assault of her mouth, the closeness of her lips now, her nose nudging his and their lashes twining together.

“You didn’t give me up,” she mumbles, a sad smile claiming her mouth. “Other way around.”

Castle places his hand on her waist, grazing his thumb to the sharp bones of her hips, glides his palm up her side, up to the expanding branches of her ribcage, covering the incision scar, and Beckett licks her lips.

“I’ll never be the person I want to be until her case is put to rest,” she confesses and he feels his heart begin to sink, but Kate cups his face in her hands, holding his head above the rising sea of disappointment. “But when I’m with you, I’m close. I’m more. And when I do find her killer, I want you with me. I want it done right.”

“And safely,” he croaks out, clearing his throat, but he means it, can’t survive holding her body as she bleeds out again.

“Safely,” she agrees, as if she can read the memory in his eyes. “It’ll be different this time.”

“Better,” Castle mumbles, his lips whispering at the corner of her mouth, and she steals the flowers from his grasp, places them delicately on the table near the entrance and drags him deeper inside. “Need me to check for more spiders?” he teases when she begins walking backwards, leading him towards her bedroom.

Kate’s eyes flicker with amusement, flames of arousal that he hasn’t seen in so long, and he can’t help stumbling a little.

“Not this time, Castle.”

Dearest (Joker x reader) 10

Y/N’s curiosity got the better of her when she went exploring by herself in an old insane asylum. Little did she know of the murderous psychopath lurking in the shadows, obsessed and determined to break her and make her his.

Originally posted by kurupuckpiknikhade480

Chapter 10

Mister J hadn’t spoken a single word the entire drive. Frost and I had decided it was best not to question him. Although I hadn’t known Mister J for long, Frost had, and he had never seen him act like this before. Usually Frost could predict to some degree what Mister J had in mind, but right now, his mind drew a blank. ‘’Get out of the car’’ Mister J growled. I looked over at him with confused eyes.

I still couldn’t understand what we were doing out here. When I didn’t immediately do what he told me to, he slammed both hands on the wheel. ‘’I SAID. Get out of the car.’’ This time I didn’t hesitate to unbuckle my seatbelt and kick the door open. The air had a sour chemical scent to it and I scrunched my nose.

Frost remained in the car and waited for further instructions. When I looked at the car, I could see Mister J still sitting there. He wasn’t moving a muscle and his face wore an expression I’d never seen on him before. He was leaning his head back in his seat and looking up at the ceiling. I could see genuine confusion in his expression. He seemed to be thinking about something, or maybe deciding something?

I stood outside in the chill air, probably more confused than him, waiting for him to explain what was happening. After 2 minutes of him staring at the roof of the car, he suddenly slammed his fist yet again on the wheel and burst out the door. He was walking aggressively and quickly towards me and I felt my heartbeat increasing for each step he took.

Without thinking, I covered my face with my hands, afraid he was going to slap me. When he saw, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it roughly while forcing it behind my back. ‘’Ssshh, ssh. Don’t worry, I’m gonna fix you.’’ I furrowed my brows. ‘’What are you talking about?’’ He didn’t answer me, he just led my body with his grip and started walking into the building.

I kept my mouth shut and followed him. The building was old and bore brown, rusted walls. Inside of the building, the chemical smell was even stronger and I felt like I was breathing toxic. We entered an elevator and the doors creaked as they closed. We both stood, at different sides of the elevator and looked at each other. This was the first time in a long time I felt nervous in his presence.

Lately, so much shit had gone down that I hadn’t had any time to focus on my emotions. His eyes were glued to mine. He looked like he wanted to eat me. His eyes were wide and his breath heavy. It made my heart race. I couldn’t decide if it looked like he wanted to kiss me passionately or tear me to shreds.

The elevator finally stopped, after what felt like minutes and minutes on end. Mister J turned on his heel and stepped out, waiting for me. I took a step out and he grabbed my hand. It felt strange. It was such a normal and gentle thing for him to do. His grip wasn’t rough or sexual. He just barely squeezed it, as if my hand was made of glass and he didn’t want to break it.

He led me towards the middle of the room. His breath was heavy and his eyes still looked a little confused. It was a mix of confusion, lust, hate, desire and a feeling I don’t think he understood. An unfamiliar feeling none of us could describe in words. It could only be felt.

I drew a sharp breath, anxious about what all of this was about. When I stopped focusing so much on my thoughts, I noticed a sound. Bubbling. I walked over to the edge of the platform and leaned over to see where the sound was coming from. 8 meters down, I could see five or six large chemical vats. The brown liquid was bubbling and steaming. ‘’Mister J why- Doll.’’ He interrupted me.

I looked at his eyes. Those crazy, deranged eyes that I had fallen in love with. Then I looked back down at the swirling chemical bath below us. That’s when it all made sense to me. His skin, his hair. He was born down there.

Mister J grabbed my shoulders and I looked back up at his eyes again. His eyes, the same color as his chemical birthplace. ‘’Would you die for me?’’ he asked me dead serious. Yes, yes, yes, anything I thought. ‘’Yes.’’ I said honestly. Then he looked up the roof and shook his head. ‘’No, no, that’s too easy.’’ He looked back down at my eyes again. Then he flashed a toothfull smirk. It sent chills down my spine and honestly, it scared the hell out of me.

‘’Would you?’’ he stopped, thinking. ‘’Would you live for me?’’ he growled. My heart tried to push itself out of my ripe chest. ‘’Yes’’ I replied. He caressed my arm with his hand. I was trembling under his touch.

He had a power about him that I could not deny. My chest rose up and fell. I was the mouse, he, the lion. ‘’Will you embrace me, and only me?’’ Yes, any day, every day, forever.’’ His hypnotizing eyes capturing mine. ‘’Will you bind your spirit to mine, in hate?’’ Anything, anything. I nodded eagerly. ‘’Do you consign your soul to me?’’ I opened my lips slightly. ‘’Yes.’’ ‘’Do you laugh at the world in disgust?’’ Always have, always will. Especially if I can laugh at it with you, I do. I do.’’ He put his finger to my lip and dragged it down my sore bottom lip as he kept his eyes on mine. ‘’Yes.’’

‘’Do not say this oath, thoughtlessly’’ My breath hitched in my throat as I stared into his gleaming eyes. ‘’I want it.’’ ‘’Say it, say it. Say iit.’’ He groaned between heavy breaths. ‘’Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty’’ ‘’Please?’’ I finished. My voice was weak, like an innocent little child. He lifted his hands from my shoulders and curled them together in delight as he watched me beg. ‘’Aaw, God, you’re so, good.’’

He took a few steps back and raised his arms slightly, looking at me, gesturing for me to let myself fall into the chemical vat below us. I was happy too, there wasn’t a thing I wanted more in this life. I would live for him, I would die for him, I would spend each and every moment of my life embracing him and only him. My puddin.

Just as I was about to raise my arms and let my body fall down into the gooey chemical bath, someone fell through the roof and landed in-between us with a loud bang. ‘JOKER!’’ a dark voice roared. Once the dust had cleared, I squinted my eyes and opened my mouth in surprise and shock. It was the Batman. ‘’Let the girl go.’’ He commanded and started walking towards my Mister J. Mister J started hysterically laughing at the bat’s face. ‘’I suggest you back of batsy, the girl belongs with me and she stays here.’’ He roared back at him.

‘’She’s an innocent young girl with a family and friends who are looking for her. She doesn’t belong with a psychopathic, emotionless clown.’’ I looked down at the floor, my heart churning when he mentioned my friends and family. Batman turned his head in my direction and used his free hand to reach it out for me to grab. ‘’Come here, miss. You don’t want this. He’s a manipulative psychopath who has been toying with you since the minute he saw you.’’

No. That stupid batman didn’t even know the first of it. Mister J wouldn’t have brought me here, or come to save me if I was just a chew toy to him. I slapped his hand away and crossed my arms over my chest. Mister J looked at me with so much passion. Seeing his girl beat the batman turned him on beyond belief.

He took the chance to slam his own head into batsy’s head. The Batman fell to the ground and the Joker jumped on top of him, beating him whilst laughing hysterically. I just stood there, watching them. There wasn’t anything I could to. This was between them. The fight escalated and they launched themselves at each other, throwing each other into walls and down on the floor. You could sense the hate between those two. Despite that, they needed each other. They were, in some sense, dependent on one another. Without each other, they would be, incomplete.

Frost threw a bat in Mister J’s direction and he grabbed it with his free hand. He looked down at the bat and smiled before he smashed the bat’s shoulder with the wooden bat. I couldn’t help but start giggling. He was beating the bat with a bat, how ironic.

When the bat was down, Mister J rushed over to me and grabbed my face. ‘’Do you want this? Do you really want this?’’ he panted. I looked at him with puppy eyes. ‘’I do.’’ He smiled crazily at me. At his point, Frost burst in through the elevator and tackled The Batman from behind before he could reach Mister J. ‘’Then, goodbye Y/N.’’ He pushed me off the platform and I plunged into the churning liquid below. 

‘’NO!’’ Batman shouted and reached out his hand, but it was too late. The acid devoured me as I screamed in pain from the burns. Impressed and satisfied, he watched me disappear into the hellish brew. At this point, batsy had gotten back up on his feet and grabbed Mister J by the neck. 

My puddin was quick, and kneed batsy in the stomach before kicking him to the ground. ‘’Come on boss! We gotta go’’ Frost exclaimed as he turned around to escape before Batman regained enough strength to fight back. ‘’No, no, no, no, no’’ Mister J mumbled to himself and kept pacing back and forth on the platform. Frost looked at him in shock and confusion as Mister J suddenly ripped his jacket off and plunged himself into the churning mass below.

Frost held his gun at the bat as he walked over to the platform to see what happening. Time was ticking, tick, tick, tick. Then, they broke surface. I was limp in his arms. He looked down at me and saw a change. My hair and my skin had been bleached and my skin had this alluring alabaster glow to it. I felt the air of the surface brush over my painted body.

The Joker looked down at my face and placed his lips on mine. My eyes opened in a gasp and I looked at the man holding me in his arms. His face was dripping with chemicals and his eyes were more deranged than I’d ever seen them. ‘’Who do you belong to?’’ he asked as he grabbed the back of my neck. ‘’You. You’re my Mister J’’ I grinned at him. Mister J moved in and kissed me hard on the lips while I began gnawing on his. He leaned his head back and started laughing hysterically as I joined in. From now on, it was the two of us, together.

My little puppeteer | Pt.3

Genre: Fuckboy!Calum, slight Badboy!Calum

Pairing: Reader x Calum

Word count: 3,771 

Summary: But there was something about him. Even if you knew he was bad for you, even if you knew he’d hurt you, even if you knew this wouldn’t end good for you, you had to know him. You had to see him again.  

Warnings: Smut, mentions of punishment, Dom!Calum

Prologue | Part 2 | Part 3


“Is that really all you want from me?” he hummed in your ear seductively. Your breath got caught up in your throat as he trailed his lips over your jawline. You nodded, feeling possessed in under his delicate, soft touch. “Yes,” you hoarsely whined. Abruptly and way too soon, he withdrew his touch and took a step back. He observed you through hooded eyes before clenching his jaw. His next words were raspy, and they took you off guard. They were, however, true.

“I don’t believe you.”


Keep reading

Klanco's *updated* Klance Rec

Best Klance Fics (in my opinion) :
* = must reads
In no particular order ~


Let The Water Lead Us Home
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7844677
Lance finds himself stuck in a simulation and Keith is determined to get him out.
*

A Shove Towards Love
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7906597/chapters/18062704
A simple rescue mission turns into chaos when the species on the planet Novaria take an interest in the lives of two of its paladins.

i bet you look good on the dancefloor
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7566577/chapters/17213101
Lance McClain’s dancing career begins and ends with Keith.

Flames of Ice
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7258417
Finding out he was bisexual wasn’t a friendly experience. Solution? Be as girl-oriented as possible, use spare time to make clever comebacks and rely on sarcasm to save the day. At least that was what Lance figured would work at age eleven.

We’ll Make It, You And Me
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7352212?view_adult=true
“Keith, if we make it out of this alive, I’m going to kiss you.”

Dirty Laundry
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7454385/chapters/16939401
Lance makes the mistake of telling his Mom he has a boyfriend coming home with him for Christmas. Keith makes the mistake of agreeing to be Lance’s ‘fake boyfriend’.

Pulsar
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7468749/chapters/16972980?view_adult=true
A story about college, coming to terms with your past, being scared of your future, and running into crazy things like love somewhere in-between.

Let’s Walk Together
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7698352
They’ve been in each other’s lives for as long as Lance could remember. Years later, it becomes clear that he doesn’t know Keith Kogane at all.

This House Unfinished
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7656958
Lance keeps losing the things he’s built. Then there’s Keith.

Broken Rules
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7608025/chapters/17315767
Lance couldn’t believe it. He was sitting in the pro-bending arena. If anyone from the Garrison saw him here, if anyone recognized him as the waterbending noble from the Northern Water Tribe, he’d be ruined.
( Avatar Crossover )

Stormchasing
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7387033
This isn’t how Lance intended to spend his vacation, chasing after Keith’s premonitions. But here he is, and he’s one hundred percent blaming Keith for all the trouble they’re about to get into.
*

Sweet Quizak
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7332586/chapters/16656118
“Look, read into how you like, Freud, just make sure that if I die Keith knows I totally would’ve mowed his ass like grass. That way, I can laugh hysterically at his emotionally-constipated expression from the afterlife.”

Watercast
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7921288/chapters/18100732
There were stories, of course. Shiro had grown up with them, just like every other avian child: A bird at sea is a bird lost forever.
*

On Thin Ice
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7754422/chapters/17753359
A hockey player named Keith who gets forcibly enlisted into figure skating lessons by his brother, Shiro, to “work on his footwork”.

of florists and tennis shoes
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7512295/chapters/18171484
“Let me get this straight,” Pidge raised a calculative eyebrow, pinching the bridge of their nose, “you want to buy her a cactus?“
*

Smile for the Stars
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7586281/chapters/17262235
Though he’s been dealt many bad cards, Lance isn’t sure he can handle this one: winding up stranded, a million lightyears away from home, with only Keith to keep him company.

call me, beep me
http://archiveofourown.org/works/7841764/chapters/17904055
In which Lance messages the wrong number and things kind of snowball from there…

Nightmares
https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813126
Lance’s nightmares are getting out of control. It’s effecting his and the team’s performance, but he’s at a loss for how to fix this.
*