Make Me Your Home
  • GELESEN 149,859
  • Stimmen 7,216
  • Teile 22
  • Zeit 3h 7m
  • GELESEN 149,859
  • Stimmen 7,216
  • Teile 22
  • Zeit 3h 7m
Abgeschlossene Geschichte, Zuerst veröffentlicht Feb. 28, 2017
Erwachseneninhalt
"Oh my god, Keeeith," Lance wheezed. "Keith you're the best drunk space cadet I've ever seen."
  
  "Space cadet," Keith mumbled. He repeated the words again although his eyes had zeroed in on Lance's hands and Lance offered no resistance when Keith picked one of them up and pulled it possessively towards his lap. He began to gently trace over Lance's fingers, sending shivers up Lance's arm and down his spine. "You have looong fingers," Keith murmured after a few moments.
  
  Keith's face perked up then, as if he'd just had a brilliant idea, and Lance could almost not wait to hear what new obscure thought had entered Keith's pretty head. He was prepared to laugh, and instead found himself shivering again as Keith leaned far into his personal bubble, lips practically touching Lance's ear when he spoke next.
  
  "I bet you could reach all kinds of things, Lance."
  
  
  (This is actually written on Archive On Our Own by Reader115. I love this story so much and I wanted to bring it to Wattpad. Enjoy!)
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Lance's Funeral von NineteenEighteen
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Keith hated himself for liking Lance. His limber build, the way he carried himself with shoulders raised and chin held high. His blue eyes, dark like the sea's deep, inky bottom. His tangled mess of dark brown hair that stood at odd angles, and never seemed to obey Lance's vigorous brushing. His smooth, light brown skin as he crinkled his nose, or batted the sand from his eyes on a particularly windy afternoon. Even his laugh, as loudly obnoxious as it was, Keith adored. And that was the worst part, because, unlike Keith, Lance hated him. With every word he uttered, an argument seemed to arise. Lance constantly joked and poked fun of Keith, determined to one up him in every way imaginable. So, in all retrospect, Keith had every right to detest Lance in return. But that was the thing: he didn't. Even as Lance stood before him on the worst days - face scrunched and reddened, throat hoarse from the shouting - all Keith thought as he stood stone faced, eyes locked on Lance's chattering lips, was: 'wow, I really want to kiss this shit-head.' And then he was both mad at himself and the world. Mad at himself for imagining Lance in ways he shouldn't, and mad at the world for allowing Lance to be in his life in the first place. It was torture. As powerful as a lash to the chest, or a hammer to the kneecap. Especially now, as Keith stood above Lance's cold, unflinching corpse. The dead boy's bony hands crossed over his chest, shoulders squared atop the white, velvet cushion that rested inside the opened coffin. He wore the best suit and tie money could buy, and had his shaven scalp hidden by a head of hair that was similar, but could never match the boy's old image. The image before cancer. The image before hell. The image before Keith's every being crumbled to dust. *** A Klance au in which Keith discovers that him and only him can see Lance's ghost. COVER ART: kuurakuu on Tumblr
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[OFFICIAL @FANFIC LIST] Keith, a dark, moody devil, is on a mission on earth when he meets Lance, the cockiest, flirtiest angel he's ever met. It turns out that the two are stuck with each other while Keith is on Earth, and Lance is the only one who can help Keith. Meeting new friends, experiencing new places and things... as much as Keith and Lance don't want to admit it, they're growing on each other. But can 'opposites attract' really work in this case? ... "I brought my hands up to his face and cupped his cheeks in my palms. He flinched but didn't pull away. "There's no prison that could hold me so that I couldn't get to you," I said boldly, "I will always come back." I smiled a little, "What kind of angel guide would I be if I couldn't even guide you?" cover art goes to @-courteous <3) Ranks: [#1 in voltron 12/23/18, #1 in lancemcclain 12/28/18, #1 in vld 2/25/19, #1 in lance 7/29/20]