#cheating ass orange team

[toppamplemousse]

fairytalestappen part 5/5: sleeping beauty

last one best one!!!!!!!!!!

hope you enjoyed this series, i enjoyed rambling on and on about these two freaks and the many universes where they are abnormal about each other. and also about making them princesses and putting them in dresses. heheheheh.

this one is set in the real f1 world, max and charles are both drivers, but its magical realism where spells, hexes, potions, etc are commonplace

it’s set in abu dhabi 2025, the wdc fight has come down to the last race and it’s charles vs. max vs. lando, any three of them could win it (two hydrogen bombs vs a coughing baby) (if you’re wondering who won the wcc, ferrari already clinched it, that’s not important at all for the story but it’s important for me)

backstory is: charles and max are fuck buddies during the 2025 season. letting out steam during the race weekends etc. convincing themselves that’s all it is. a week before abu dhabi, charles tells max that they need to stop seeing each other until after the last race, because it’s just too much with the championship battle. max was gearing up to tell charles that he had feelings and wanted more and he’s DEVASTATED. some miscommunication here obv.

so max is despondent going into abu dhabi but still determined to win of course.

because they are cheaters and can never win anything legally ever, mclaren have come up with a plan to guarantee that lando will win the wdc: they will slip a sleeping potion into max and charles' drinks and then max and charles will be asleep for the race and lando will cruise to victory

there’s just one small catch of this sleeping potion: the person affected can be instantaneously awoken by none other than True Loves Kiss. but that should be fine, right? neither max nor charles have girlfriends, so there’s no way anyone can wake them up. foolproof plan, zak brown

the morning of the race dawns (lestappen are starting on the front row btw, that’s not important for the story but it’s important to Me) and oh no! charles leclerc has been hit with a sleeping potion and he’s asleep and can’t be roused by anyone! (in my head he’s in his car very peacefully asleep)

max is unaffected bc in my head the red bull was powerful enough to counteract the sleeping potion

max KNOWS it was mclaren who did this but he has no way to prove it. the only thing he can do is figure out how to wake charles up before the race. even though it would be easier for max if charles slept through the race, max doesn’t want to win the wdc because charles isn’t racing, he wants to race charles and win, blah blah blah predestined rivals etc etc you get it

also max loves charles so much, he doesn’t want him to miss out on the chance to race for a wdc just because mclaren are huge massive cheaters. so max decides, even though it pains him, he’s going to find out who charles’ true love is, and get them to kiss charles, so that charles will wake up and can race. because if max can’t have charles, then he at least wants to be able to race charles (the sleeping drought may not have put max to sleep but it may have atrophied his brain honestly)

so anyways max wracks his brain to think of who could be charles’ true love. first candidate: lewis of course. he’s charles’ teammate, and they’ve been getting closer and closer this year. brilliant idea max. he goes to lewis explains the situation. lewis looks at him first with pity and then like he’s objectively insane.

lewis categorically refuses to attempt to kiss charles. vague mention to the fact that he can’t be charles' true love because he knows someone else is his true love (he says this in a very tortured way, implying that it didn't work out with his true love. brocedes you will alwayyyyyyyys be famous). so anyways lewis is not an option.

next up: charles’ FORMER teammate carlos. they always got along, had a good rapport, and many charged moments. max goes to him in the williams garage and begs and pleads with him to try to kiss charles. carlos is willing to give it a whirl. he goes to the ferrari garage and plants one on charles. max sits there and seethes, feels like carlos lingers for too long. it doesn’t work. max doesn’t acknowledge the twist of satisfaction in his gut.

next up: maybe someone that charles works closely with in ferrari, someone he trusts and has a close relationship with. max finds bryan and asks him if he will consider kissing charles to wake him up. bryan casually drops that he already tried it and it didn’t work and max is FURIOUS but doesn't interrogate exactly why the thought of bryan kissing charles makes him so mad. poor dumb loser max (affectionate).

the next person on max’s list isn’t even in the paddock, so he gives seb a call. seb is the best option so far because definitely at one point, many years ago, he was charles’s true love. seb is in switzerland but he could make it in time for the race. max begs and pleads with him to just come try it, seb really wars with himself because. could he be……? no. but he and charles always had something........but no. but will seb always wonder if he doesn’t go? but ultimately seb says he won’t do it. he gives max some cryptic advice that maybe charles' true love is "right under his nose" but max has no idea what that means. classic seb.

max is at his wits end. the race is an hour away. max considers also dropping out of the race in solidarity with charles , but he can’t just let cheating mclaren win. so he has to go through with it and win for charles

max is despondent and goes to find fred in the paddock, to explain that he tried his best to wake charles up, but without any success. fred is like "have you tried EVERYONE???" and max is like "yes, of course, and nothing worked." and fred is like "literally EVERYONE you can think of, they've all kissed charles and it hasn't worked??" and max is like "yes??? that's what i just said. i guess charles' true love doesn't work in the paddock."

finally, fred is fed up with this dumbass, so he's like "hey max, will you humor me, just to rule out all options, just to be methodical, you understand, will you kiss charles, just to make sure you've ruled out every option? just do it for me please max, to put my mind at ease."

max tries to protest that charles doesn’t see him like that and just recently broke off their arrangement they had. fred is like "okay, i just wanted to make sure we ruled out every option, before we sacrifice charles' best chance to win the wdc, but ah well."

so finally max is like. even though it will break my heart to go to kiss charles and have it absolutely confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt that charles doesn't love me, but i'll do it for him, because i have to try everything i can to help him have a chance of racing today.

max goes to garage 16. imagine a swell of music as the tension builds. he leans in and kisses charles very sweetly. and -- wait, is that???? charles is waking up????? but that means-- that means that max is.........................he's charles' true love!!!!!

charles eyelashes flutter and his eyes open (many thoughts here about his beautiful green eyes) max kisses him again and again. charles is confused, but max explains everything and charles is like “you made CARLOS KISS ME!!!!!!!!!????!!!!! and then they both are confessing their feelings and are very happy and then bryan pops his head into the garage and he’s like “hey the race is starting in like 10 mins”

and as he leaves charles has a thoughtful look on his face and max is like “yes bryan also kissed you” and charles is like “BRYAN??!!!!!!!??????..............did he say if it was good or not?”

anyways im getting side tracked. max and charles are happily ever after and oh charles goes and wins the race and the wdc and mclaren is disqualified and zak brown is fired. the end.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 21: Timeout

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: address it...

Welcome to the chapter 21 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Reader's POV

The gym was quiet except for the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the rhythmic bounce of a basketball. Paige was shooting free throws while I set up my camera on a tripod, capturing the smooth arc of her shots.

I adjusted the camera, stealing a glance at her. “You sure you’re okay...we're okay, to be back here?”

Paige caught the ball on a rebound and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’m good, ma. Besides, we talked everything out, right?”

I nodded, though a lingering tension sat between us.

Coach Geno walked in, clipboard in hand, and stopped mid-step when he saw us. “You two good again.” He sighed, shaking his head. Seeing the still unresolved tension between us.

Paige dribbled the ball, looking like she was trying to decide whether to argue or stay quiet. I spoke up instead.

“We’re good, Coach. We talked through everything. I’m filming the practice plays, and Paige is just—”

“Working off some steam, til practice starts.” Paige finished.

Coach set the clipboard down on a bench and crossed his arms. “I don’t doubt that you two think everything’s worked out, but there’s a lot of emotion running high. And frankly, it’s bleeding into everything—practice, even the team dynamic. You both need to take the rest of the today as well to figure it out away from this gym. And you Y/n, I sais no drama for my team, so fix it.”

“What?” Paige’s voice was sharp, her frustration evident. “We’re fine, Coach.”

He raised a brow. “You say that, but the way you’re gripping that ball says otherwise.”

I glanced at her hands, realizing her knuckles were white against the orange leather.

“Go home. Talk. Take a breath. Come back when you’re really ready.” His tone softened slightly. “This team needs both of you, but you’ve got to get on the same page first.”

Paige reluctantly set the ball down and nodded. “Alright, Coach.”

I packed up my camera, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on me.

Back at the apartment, I went straight to the bathroom to shower, letting the hot water wash away my frustration. I’d thought we were making progress, but Coach’s words brought back the doubt I’d been trying to push down.

Paige’s POV

The sound of the shower running filled the apartment as I flopped onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. My phone buzzed, and Nika’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hey,” I answered, trying to sound normal.

“What’s going on with you and Y/N?” she asked bluntly.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “We talked about everything, okay? It’s fine.”

Nika snorted. “Fine? Coach just sent you both home, and called me to call you. That doesn’t scream fine to me. Im all the way in Seattle, don't make me come kick y'alls asses.”

I stayed quiet, not wanting to admit she was right.

“You’ve been off since she came from covering my game in Seattle, you know she wouldn't cheat on you, and damn sure not with me, Paige.” she continued. “And it’s not just affecting you. Y/N’s walking around like she’s carrying the weight of the world. She's trying to understand being in the spotlight, when she's just a photographer. So whatever’s going on, you need to fix it, and fix it fast.”

I sighed, closing my eyes. “I’m trying, Nika. We talked about it, but I don’t know… It feels like there’s still something between us that we’re not addressing.”

“Then address it,” she said firmly. “You love her, right?”

The question caught me off guard, even though the answer was obvious. “Yeah, I do, I really fucking do.”

“Then act like it. Stop holding back. Be honest, even if it’s messy. She deserves that, tou tell her thr truth.”

I sat up, Nika’s words sinking in. “Thanks, Nika.”

“Don’t thank me. Just figure it out before Coach benches both of you for emotional interference,” she said, hanging up before I could respond.

When Y/N came out of the bathroom, her damp curls framed her face, and she was wearing one of my old UConn sweatshirts.

“You okay?” she asked, sitting beside me.

“Yeah,” I said, taking her hand. “But we need to talk.”

Her brow furrowed. “I thought we already did.”

“We did, but I don’t think we were completely honest with each other—or with ourselves.” I took a deep breath. “I’m scared, Y/N. Scared of how much I care about you and how fast this has all happened. Scared of what happens when I leave for the WNBA.”

Her eyes softened, and she squeezed my hand. “I’m scared too, Paige. But we can’t let that fear control us.”

“I know,” I said, pulling her into a hug. “I don’t want to lose you, no matter what happens next.”

“You won’t,” she whispered, her voice steady.

We spent the rest of the night in the gym, working off the tension through laughter and quiet moments. Paige filmed me trying to shoot a three-pointer, and I filmed her laughing at my terrible form.

The unspoken was there, but for now, it was enough to simply be together.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @starlighttsv , @authentic-girl03 @sevyscoven ,.... (more to be added)

[gutwrenchflowerbomb]

Okay one more Best Friends related post and it’s gonna be about the kayfabe story they’re trying to set here.

So Trent’s saying that he’s mad because Orange is a narcissist and was supposed to be their mascot but instead they ended up being his lackeys. And that they got nothing for it.

But what, exactly, would Orange have been able to “give” them? He can’t make matches. In fact, the one thing he could do was make/accept challenges for the International Championship. And he gave Trent a shot at that. And he stopped his singles matches after his loss of the title to team with Trent since Chuck was hurt. He could have easily not done that and pursued a rematch with that asshole Roderick Strong.

Chuck and Trent have had a handful of shots at the tag belts. Not as many as I’d like, but I digress. Orange had nothing to do with those - good or bad. Chuck and Trent lost those matches on their own. Was he supposed to cheat to help them? That wouldn’t be very “local bad boys” of them.

My point is, Trent has no legitimate reason to blame Orange. What we have here is a clear case of someone unable to accept his own failures and instead creating a false narrative in his mind. He has made Orange a sort of stand-in, a personification of his own shortcomings and now attacking that instead of focusing on the real problem.

Chuck saw right through Trent’s weak ass reasoning.

[superman86to99]

Zero Hour: Crisis in Time #3 (September 1994)

Our eternal September continues as we reach Zero Hour #3 (the second issue), a.k.a. "The One With All The Elder Abuse." Putting Old Flash crying over Old Hourman's body on the cover was not false advertisement -- any '90s kids who bought this issue hoping to see some grandpas getting their asses kicked absolutely got their money's worth.

As seen in ZH #4 (the first issue), Superman has asked every spandex wearer in the DC Universe to gather outside the United Nations building so they can tackle the ongoing time crisis, but he's running late because he stopped to see his parents (all four of them) in Superman #93. Superman is further delayed when he hears screams coming from Keystone City, which turn out to come from a super-fast, video game-addicted child from the future fighting time-displaced dinosaurs.

Superman recruits "Don't Call Me Kid Flash!" here (a.k.a. Impulse) and reaches New York to meet the gathered heroes, including but not limited to: the Justice Leagues (including everyone's favorite founding member, Triumph), the Super-Family, the Bat-Family (including an able-bodied Batgirl), the New Teen Titans, the Team Titans, a few time-lost Legion of Super-Heroes members, the new Green Lantern (Kyle Rayner), the new Darkstar (Donna Troy), a newly armored Guy Gardner, a newly unkempt and one-handed Aquaman, our old pal Agent Liberty (who's probably very thankful to be invited), and, of course, the protector of Metropolis: Alpha Centurion! (The rando with the orange helmet on the far left, who we'll learn more about in the next issue of Adventures.)

Oh, and that lady in the purple dress is Power Girl, who suddenly went from dressing like a sex goddess to wearing grandma clothes when her magical pregnant belly started showing.

The heroes quickly decide Superman should be their leader (even though Guy volunteered first), and he proposes trying to figure out where this mess even started. It turns out someone's way ahead of them: the Justice Society of America has already traveled to the time crisis' point of origin, Vanishing Point, aided by Waverider, the loose cannon among the DCU's time cops. Problem is, Waverider and the JSA's Hawkman and Hawkwoman got lost on their way to Vanishing Point and ended up in the latest issue of Hawkman, where all the various Hawkpeople get hit by "cosmic energy" and condensed into a single Hawkperson (a sequence I'm sharing mostly because it reminds me of Superman and the Eradicator getting hit by the kryptonite beam in "Reign of the Supermen").

Meanwhile, at Vanishing Point, the JSA meets the guy who seems to be behind the time crisis: Hank Hall, a former C-list hero who recently got a massive power upgrade and became the A-list villain known as Extant (well, "A-list for a single month in 1994," anyway). Extant has time-based powers, which is unfortunate for the JSA, who have been cheating time by looking young when they should all be in their 80s, considering they're old enough to have punched Hitler. Extant corrects that by turning all of them super old, instantly killing the Golden Age Atom in the process. Only the Golden Age Green Lantern is spared thanks to his power ring and remarkable blondness.

(No you're not, Hourman. You also die one page later.)

Anyway, RIP the JSA. Thank you for your service; off you go into "elderly supporting character" status for several years. Back in New York, the time anomalies are getting more chaotic and threaten to destroy entire cities. Speaking of destroyed cities, one interesting moment is when the heroes learn that a young, non-crazy Hal Jordan seemingly died last issue and Guy Gardner wonders if that means present-day, yes-crazy Hal is dead too, and whether they could use the time anomalies to save Coast City and prevent Hal's downfall. That's... a pretty good idea, actually. Maybe Guy should have been the leader instead of Superman after all.

Waverider eventually remembers he left the old geezers back at Vanishing Point and goes to check in on them, but he's too late to save them from getting Extant'd. The issue ends with Extant pulling out his mask to reveal that he's... another Waverider?! How?! Why?! I legitimately don't remember anything about that plotline, so we'll have to find out together next issue. TO BE CONTINUED IN ZERO HOUR #2 (THE THIRD ISSUE)!

But first: a word from resident art expert Don Sparrow! Several words, actually...

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

As with last issue, with this art team, both of them giants in my eyes, it’s hard to narrow down the best panels, because there’s not a bad one in the book.  So I’ll do my best not to just select each and every panel as a highlight! We start with the cover, and it’s kind of a jumble.  The art is great, but, almost every issue of the original Crisis on Infinite Earths had an iconic, eye catching cover—here’s there’s just a lot going on.  It’s certainly representative of the story within, but to me doesn’t make it feel like a must-read as you pass it on the shelf. 

The first splash is a great one, an emotional Jay Garrick clutching the uniform of still another (apparently) dead Flash.  On the very next page turn, we get a two page spread of the JSA, and it’s a stunner.

Though they’re all just standing around, the fact that they each have such distinct features and body types is a real feat—plus with Ordway’s DC work kicking off with these characters in the unfortunately monogrammed All Star Squadron, it’s always neat to see him work on WWII characters.  I’m especially entranced by the way Jurgens and Ordway render Hawman’s helmet.  The thatchy, mottled texture really gives a sense of how it would really look and feel.  In more recent years, they tend to depict Hawkman’s helmet as shiny, golden metallic, but this stiff, feathery look really makes it seem organic and solid.  Awesome stuff.

A recurring theme in this mini-series is the introduction of a new generation of heroes, and they’re helped out a lot by how great the art is—some of these characters, and their extremely 90’s looking designs will look far better here than they ever will in their own pages.  I read that Impulse’s first official appearance was in Flash #91, but his appearance in this issue was the first time I’d seen him, and with a design this simple and attractive, it’s hard to make Bart Allen look anything but cool.  Jurgens and Ordway’s natural realism still manages to convey some of the cartooniness that most defined Impulse, particular as he grins on page 5, phasing through a wall.

[Max: As a kid, as cool as Impulse looks here and in his early Flash appearances, it always bugged me that he looks older than he will in his solo series and Young Justice. My headcanon was that the accelerated aging mentioned in his origin was unstable and made him older for a while before settling on his real age.]

Page 8 has the showstopper panel, as the collected heroes rain down on the plaza in front of the United Nations building.  Booster Gold’s armour is probably the most glaring example of what I mentioned before—in these hands Booster’s costume is dynamic and functional—a far cry from how ugly the same costume will look in the upcoming “Extreme Justice” era.  Wonder Woman and Maxima look particularly great here, but it’s generally a great showcase for the characters who DC was pushing at the time.  Page 10 has a great panel for me personally, as I was (and remain) a huge Captain Marvel fan, so seeing the Big Red Cheese interact with Big Blue is a thrill. 

The arrival of the new Hawkman is a cool moment, and as truly awful as his own comic became around this time (so, so bad!), this costume design was one of the very best looks for Hawkman, in my opinion, though I admit owning the Total Justice action figure with that look helped. 

On the whole, this might be the least eventful issue of Zero Hour—apart from the editorially mandated wiping of the decks for the JSA, not a ton happens to move the story forward.  But it sure looked pretty!

SPEEDING BULLETS: 

Granted, a woman in the late stages of pregnancy isn’t supposed to look particularly dynamic, even if that woman is a superhero, but Power Girl looks pretty matronly throughout Zero Hour.  The lavender sweatshirt doesn’t help, I suppose.  We’ll get into it in subsequent issues, but Power Girl’s magical pregnancy is one of my very favourite Bad Ideas that Went Nowhere™ of this era, and perhaps all time.

I’ll admit, I had to reconsult old issues around this time to remember why Despero was responding to a summons from the Justice League (his body was possessed by L-Ron, the robotic assistant to Maxwell Lord, who was more or less a throwaway L. Ron Hubbard joke from the Bwah-ha-ha era of Justice League, who inexplicably survived several writer changes).

It’s small wonder I love this event so much—apart from the Super-team members writing and drawing it, it’s a very Superman-centric storyline.  I have to admit, I get a small thrill out of Superman being chosen as leader with Batman just standing there looking on in silence. 

Another instance where I had to look up old issues to understand what was going on was the short aside with space Hawkman (Katar Hol) merging with Earth Hawkman and Hawkwoman (Carter and Shiera Hall) and the weird giant Hawkgod, but the summary we’re shown is pretty much exactly what happened in the Hawkman books at the time.  All the many different Hawkmen would eventually pave the way for Geoff Johns’ excellent conceptual revamping of the character, explaining that the character was cursed to be reborn again and again. 

The ever-likeable Kyle Rayner winning over Guy Gardner by treating him with respect is a great moment (and a funny use of font size). [Max: Guy mostly behaves himself during this series, especially considering Ice just died. I wonder if they already told him and he's taking it remarkably well or if they decided to wait until the universal emergency was over.]

I went through Justice League stories from around this time, and I couldn’t find any reference to Maxima’s costume flickering of phasing—was this just a tossed-off line, or does someone else remember this coming up in a book other than this? [Max: I've skimmed through the issues, making careful note of Maxima's suit, and found no instances of this.]

I kinda like Ray Palmer and Guy Gardner being close enough friends to conspire together. [Max: Ray didn't seem very fond of Guy during Jurgens' JLA -- in fact, wasn't he so disappointed in seeing Guy fighting Superman that he mystically summoned a fascist alternate timeline JLA dreamworld? I kinda suspect Jurgens had Guy talking to him here because he'd be easier to fit into the panel than a regular-sized hero.]

While I’m an ardent defender of Zero Hour, I know a lot of JSA fans hate it, and from that perspective, it’s easy to see why—they really do go out like punks while fighting Extant, and it’s hard to watch.

Missed an issue? Looking for an old storyline? Check out our new chronological issue index!

[thesolaireslawyer]

Shaw Pack Flowers pt2

flowers I'd give to every member of the Shaw Pack and why part 2

Christian - Red Lilacs with a mix of matching peonies! the color red means in this case anger and passion. Christian has a lot of pent-up anger as he feels he was cheated out of becoming beta. he tends to get annoyed whenever everyone calls out his obvious relationship with Amanda. however, he is passionate about his pack. even if he can be a bit of an ass- now to the flowers! Peonies mean Compassion and Bashfulness. why? he cares about the people around him a lot! and he can get very flustered when confronted about his relationship and or gifts. Lilacs mean confidence and innocence though we're only gonna take confidence in this case. After all everyone could use a little more of that

Marie - (she can have my hand in marriage honestly) I am giving her some Roses of course!(I love her some much- I'm biased) Pink roses and some blue Chamomiles. Pink roses mean Gratitude, grace, and joy though were only taking 1 of those meanings. Grace because let's be real here she had to be really patient and fast with Colm's behavior. while The color blue means calm, trust, and intelligence though we only takin 2 of those Calm and intelligent. She had to be smart in dealing with Colm's gambling habit while also being calm enough to raise their son. Chamomiles mean patience and wealth. do I really need to explain that?

Arden - the resident troublemaker! I'm giving her some Orange Hyacinths! The color orange in this case means Creativity, youth, and enthusiasm. arden is one of the younger wolf-shifters in the pack! with her creative ways of picking on Chrissy! She just wants to have some fun you know? that being said Hyacinths mean Playfulness ad constancy. yes shes is playful and sometimes disrespectful- she's constant with it at least (IM JOKING IM JOKING! She is an amazing team player. )

Amanda - honestly I don't know much about Amanda however- from what I've heard about her I think I'm going to give her some Peach roses. Why? well, peach roses mean Sincerity, gratitude, and sympathy. her relationship with Christan shows how much she loves and cares for him. while after the inversion she wanted him to come with her back to her parents. She wanted to show her gratitude by living a safe life with Christan. the sincerity of not having to be hidden anymore. but earning her sympathy when declined. She understood.. (pink roses would also suit her)

Gabe - I could just make a meme here and give him some black roses and say it means death (which is one of their many meanings) but I'm not going to do that.. I would give him forget-me-nots and delphiniums. whenever David talks about his dad it's always mentioned just how of a big heart he had. and how playful he could be at times. and guess what just happens to mean Big-hearted? Delphiniums! Gabe has so many good memories that the pack still talks about to this day. and true love.. something Gabe had and then lost. But now they get to see the man their son has grown to be together.

Colm - Black and White roses.. in the case of Colm, he let his work ruin him. and well.. he found an outlet. it wasn't a healthy one. and all he can hope now is to fix what he broke. even if it's too late. Black roses can mean a lot however in colms case they're going to mean Rebirth and new beginnings. White roses mean redemption and grace. I shouldn't have to explain this reasoning.

BONUS

David's Mom - Her favorite flowers were honeysuckle and they're the perfect flowers to give her. they can mean Love, devotion happiness, and new beginnings! there is doubt in my mind that this woman was a joy to be around, someone who balanced out Gabe. And someone who wanted everything for her son. She was an amazing woman. and her choice of such makes me think that even more.

and here's the part 2 I was talking about! @dawnofiight

let me know if there is any other characters you want me to do

[gethooked]

Here's my thoughts from tonight's dynamite

Hook vs Samoa Joe main event, ok I'm totally not nervous at all. This video package feels like it's a ppv. Ok but Hook's voice 😍 he needs to talk more. His slow walk oml.

Christian Cage vs Dustin Rhodes where did this match come from. I hate how Christian walks and I don't know why. Nick Wayne though 😍. Dustin's theme reminds of his Goldust theme. I honestly think Christian is going to win. Christian got yeeted over those steps oml. I feel like Dustin has been wrestling for 100 years, but I might actually cry when he retires. Hopefully he has a match for his retirement match. Not Nick trying to cheat. Yes Dustin, yambag jones, yambag city like Taz said. Dustin beat Nick's ass. Yess, get Nick out of here. (I love you Nick) Christian taking Adam's move 🫨 what did I say Christian was gonna win.

Who's house? Swerve's house! The way Swerve laughs is so weird to me. Renee looks sooooo pretty tonight. Did Swerve quote Harry Styles or am I going insane. Swerve's house!

Just looking at S🤮mmy passes me off. From what I've heard about Jericho recently I don't like him. A pizza cutter? Maybe he will cut your hair. Sydallllll!!!! Sydal beat Jericho before? Never knew that. At least we get to see Sydal.

Orange Cassidy and Trent with Chuck say whatttt... since when was he back. Hopefully OC and Trent win. Oh wait Penta and Komander... this match is gonna be a banger. Trust me I know bangers. Cero Miedo! I love that Rey's back too. Classic OC. I think my dogs like wrestling because whenever wrestling is on they have to wrestle to. They even do their own promos. Ok sorry back to the actual match. I hate picture in picture I get distracted by the commercials. So far I've been right about the winnings for 2 matches. Let's see how many more I can get. Bruh the undisputed kingdom can suck a fat one. Roddy shut the fuck up. Why are YOU trying to tell him what to do. Belongs to you? Bitch what? I agree with the other fans. OC another match?

Hangman you look different, did you dye your hair? Grow a mustache? Again Renee is sooo pretty. He doesn't think about Swerve? Yeah right. Hangman never threaten HOOK like that again.

This might make me cry. Rip Jay. Rest in Heaven. Poor Mark, he already looks emotional. #DemBoys period girl!! Good for you! The love Mark has for his niece is so cute. Now I'm gonna cry for real. The fact that Jay was a family man breaks my heart.

The bucks? What the hell happened to their faces. Nicholas and Matthew is crazyyyyy. Hypothetical he's using that word to much fr. Stiiiiiiiinnnnngggggggg. #changetheworld the shade towards cm punk is my favorite thing. Sweetheart is crazy.

Bullet club gold. Honestly I only like Jay. Mogul embassy? This match is gonna go crazy. I loveee Prince Nana. I think Toa missed. BCG won, knew that was gonna happen. We love Bowens btw. Scissor me Daddy Ass.

Wardlow? Adam Cole? Get off my screen sellouts.

Toni on commentary? Oml i love her but her gimmick gets irritating after awhile in my opinion. Deonna vs Anna? Deonna has to win. If I see anyone make comments about Deonna I will personally beat you the fuck up. What does virtuosa even mean? Yes Deonna as you should. Toni's faces are sooo funny bro. Poor Luther. Right in the what? Poor Taz. They must have been watching a telenovela. (I'm mexican I can make that joke)

Top Flight vs Private Party? I want Top Flight to win, butttt I think PP is going to win since Marq Quen is back. Idk I just hope both teams have fun. I loveeee PP's theme. Aww he gave away his durag. Same thing with TF's theme. I've been loving Darius' hair braided. What did Taz call them? I love when Zay does that little scream. Wasn't Darius on the ropes? Andretti? We love him too.

Hook vs Joe? Bae's gotta win this. Come on Hook. Hook looks so majestic. I'm gonna cry my poor Hookie. Joe you didn't have to actually have to kill him.

[azragulse]

✧   ⸻   [  melisa asli pamuk,  cis female,  she/her  ]     ;     staying safe at your post in the eastern wing, aren’t you, AZRA GULSE ? though i would think that being a THIRTY TWO YEAR OLD CAPTAIN with the signet of TRACKING SENSE makes that a pretty easy task. i’m sure it helps that damryr, your female ORANGE SWORDTAIL dragon, is doing their duty patrolling our borders ! the other riders stationed at your post say you’re FORTHRIGHT and UNRELENTING traits are a real benefit, but the fact that you’re so VICIOUS and FICKLE is a real pain in the ass. does anyone else think you’re reminiscent of a wild laugh lost in the wind ; the tide breaking against rocks ; dragon claws brushing against skin or is it just that dragon of yours ? nonetheless, stay vigilant and stay alive.  

BASICS.

FULL NAME: azra gulse.

AGE: thirty two.  

PLACE OF BIRTH: navarre.

GENDER: cis female.

PRONOUNS: she/her.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: demiromantic bisexual. 

FAMILY: arda & jale gulse (parents). two unnamed younger siblings and nadir gulse.

PROFESSION: captain of the eastern wing.

SIGNET: sensory tracking

DRAGON: damryr, an orange swordtail.

INTRO.

eldest of four siblings born to a pair of dragon riders, azra always knew her fate was in the skies. being the eldest meant pressure was always high not only to succeed, but exceed. all eyes were on her to see what the next generation of gulse children would bring. azra is loyal to her family, but she is far from a nurturing older sister. her way of showing love was to teach her younger siblings to swim — by throwing them in the open ocean to see if they will sink or swim. contrary to what they might tell you, azra wasn't actually going to let them drown. probably. it was funny watching, though. and hey, they all survived so no harm done. the way azra sees it, she did them a favour. the world isn't a kind place, and coddling them will only hold her siblings back.

being the first born is a heavy responsibility, but aza thrives under the pressure. never content to be average, azra did whatever it took to rise the ranks of the riders quadrant. if that meant lying, cheating, or fighting dirty, then azra had no qualms about doing it. there is a bone deep, insatiable hunger in azra and she won't stop until she is finally satisfied. the ends justify the means and if they don't justify the means? well the means were fun so who really cares! her loyalty is first and foremost to her own and her family's survival with little consideration for others.

conscribed at age 22, because there was no way azra was going to let any of her younger siblings conscribe before her; and joined the army right after graduation because war is kind of fun? azra cares little for the moral or political justification for war, its more like look, more little people to play games with! (the game being killing/outsmarting/winning). again, ruthlessly focused on rising the ranks and is now a captain in the eastern wing. despite her fickle nature, it is a position azra takes seriously as much as she views war like a game.

bonded to a temperamental orange swordtail that burnt at least three cadets to a crisp before choosing azra. she'd 'accidentally' pushed a fellow cadet into dragon fire, piquing damryr's interest. azra developed her signet power fairly quickly. if it was too much too soon, well damryr cared little for the difference between humans. annoying, but azra could be replaced. it was a test of azra's strength, which thankfully she passed. after a decade of being bonded, azra and damryr have become quite the vicious team, known for their ruthlessness and unwillingness to leave a fight until their enemy is destroyed. you wont see them settling for surrender.

coming from a family of predators, it made sense that her signet would be sensory tracking — there is rarely a person or thing she cannot locate, making her a valuable asset to the army. she enjoys the hunt as much as she enjoys toying with her prey.

kind of chaotic feral vibes in a can and will cut your throat but in a Looks Good While Doing It way

competitive, challenging and opinionated, azra isn't afraid to say exactly what she means. bloodthirsty and vicious, azra mirrors her dragon in being temperamental, although she's not as grumpy. the cadets are fun little toys to mess with for her own amusement and has probably tried to scare a few for fun.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

ARMY COLLEAGUES: azra is a captain on the eastern wing so any fellow army people. direct reports, superiors, competitors, etc. i imagine there's a mix of people she'd love to burn to a crisp, and others she's almost friendly with or they work really well together and often pair up for missions and things. maybe someone bitter/jealous she's a captain or believes she's the worst possible person to be a captain (too bloodthirsty?)

GRADUATE CLASS: azra joined the riders quadrant around 11 years ago, so anyone who was at school with her. rivals for commanding positions, frenemies. also teachers who remember her - could love her, hate her, whatever.

TRACKING EVADER: azra's signet is sensory tracking, and I think she'd enjoy testing her ability on someone whose ability is the opposite - its a test of their individual strengths who ends up winning out. also, this goes for anyone really down to play tracking games with azra. gonna keep those skills sharp.

MENTOR/MENTEE: tbh funny if azra takes someone under her wing and corrupts them a little. equally funny if someone worse than azra does the same to her, and they're just a terrible awful combination.

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS: but like. without the friends bit. just the benefits. here for a fun time but not looking for anything more.

[augment-techs]

"Pillow Talk" Skull/Billy

"Quite the catch" Bulk/Jason

"Royal pain in the ass" Jack/Sky

Since it's a three in one, I'm going with a theoretical summary/synopsis cluster. Singles next time, please, it makes this a lot cleaner ^^; Title: reckless ambivalence Rating: M Relationships: Billy Cranston/Eugene Skollovitch; Billy Cranston & Farkas Bulkmeier; Billy Cranston & Matthew Cook & Grace Sterling; Billy Cranston & His Parents; Eugene Skullovitch & Stan Skullovitch; Ranger Ensemble. Additional Tags: Coma; Monster Attack Aftermath; Physical Abuse; Parental Neglect; Scarring; Blood; Sibling Relationship; Pining; Guilt; Hand Holding; mention of the Annual Comic that nobody ever brings up gdi; Zordon Admitting to Being a Dick; 5+1 Things. Summary: Billy keeps getting dreams that don't feel like dreams in the aftermath of getting into a verbal fight with Skull, followed by a monster smashing him so hard into a wall that the punk fell into a coma. They were too detailed and the environment felt too much like that time he and his team walked out of Drakkon's make believe world and out into the very ether of the Morphin Grid. "Why do I have to come back again? What do I have to learn?" The questions shouldn't sting so much after the second time he asks Billy, dressed in a hospital gown and draped in orange light like a sundown. Looking so tired and resigned and eyes all wide and wet. But then, Billy actually thinks about it, looks into all the stuff he's missed out on since falling out of Skull's orbit (abandoning him) and begins to feel like he can't breathe: going through Skull's overly full medicine cabinet, helping the nurses in the hospital bathe the blood and sweat off of the scars decorating his back and arms and legs, talking with Bulk about how thin Skull is because his family is always gone and not a lot of people were willing to hire him for odd jobs. What could Billy answer with that could make Eugene (come back) stay?

Title: sheets of egyptian cotton Rating: M Relationships: Farkas Bulkmeier/Jason Scott; Previous Jason Scott/Tommy Oliver/Kimberly Hart; Billy Cranston/Eugene Skullovitch; Rocky Desantos/Adam Park/Aisha Campbell; Zack Taylor/Trini. Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Underwear Model/Ambulance Driver; Kink Model/Nursing Aid; Eating Disorders; Anxiety; Mention of Physical Abuse; Meet Ugly; Substance Abuse; Frottage; Oral Sex; Cuddling. Summary: Probably the worst way to meet a model that Jason could think of was when some asshole got handsy during the after party and the biggest model on the line gets hit in the head with a champagne bottle trying to get the asshole to get the hell out. Still, Jason could kind of count himself lucky. It wasn't every day that he got to meet a plus sized model without a filter from the pain meds wearing nothing but the silky boxer briefs he had on the runway. Or his skittish friend from the BDSM showcase in the building across the street showing up at the hospital in nothing but a silk see-through kimono and an exceptionally complicated looking ensemble with leather and lace. * Title: dancing on the head of a pin Rating: T Relationships: Jack Landors/Sky Tate; Anubis "Doggie" Cruger/Kat Manx; Z Delgado & Bridge Carson & Syd Drew. Additional Tags: Heartbreak; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; That Last Episode Girlfriend Never Really Sat Right With Me; I Do Like Piggy but We ALL Know He'd Find a Way to Fuck Up; Jack Landors Needs a Hug; Sky Tate Kicks Some Ass; Z Delgado is Coming for Blood. Summary: Here's a level of hell that Jack could not imagine when he quit the SPD and went into business with a new girlfriend and Piggy that the ex-Red Ranger was not expecting: his relationship with Ally ending with her and Piggy hooking up and her cheating on him FOR MONTHS before he found out. One would think he was utterly bullet proof, but even after a whole year of taking on the worst of the worst, fighting an intergalactic menace, almost dying; Jack was as emotionally vulnerable as that kid who grew up on the street with nothing and no one. Somehow, though, Jack didn't mind Sky seeing him so vulnerable.

[melissahausen]

Predictions for AEW wrestledream

As always this is who I think is gonna win not necessarily who I want to win.

The Acclaimed (Anthony Bowens and Max Caster) and Billy Gunn (c) vs.

TMDK (Shane Haste, Mikey Nicholls, and Bad Dude Tito).

Six-man tag team match for the AEW World Trios Championships:

The acclaimed and Daddy ass

Luchasaurus vs. Nick Wayne Singles match:

Nick I hope cause I don't think Darby is winning.

Josh Barnett vs. Claudio Castagnoli Singles match: Claudio.

Shane Taylor Promotions (Shane Taylor and Lee Moriarty), Diamante, and Mercedes Martinez vs. Satoshi Kojima, Keith Lee, Athena, and Billie Starkz Eight-person mixed tag team match:

I had no idea this match was happening lmfao. So Keith and athena.

Bryan Danielson vs. Zack Sabre Jr. Singles match:

everyone but mines dream match lmfao but I think Bryan gotta do it he's the best man.

Eddie Kingston (c) vs. Katsuyori Shibata Singles match for the ROH World Championship and Strong Openweight Championship:

Eddie is on a roll so I'm going him, and he's only just won the title.

Kris Statlander (c) vs. Julia Hart (with Brody King) Singles match for the AEW TBS Championship :

now this one I'm torn on cause Julia hasn't lost a match in months but Kris has only just won the title ahh I don't know.... I'm going Kris but I wouldn't be surprised if Julia won.

Ricky Starks vs. Wheeler Yuta Singles match:

Ricky is on a roll right now but so is Yuta ahhh I'm going Ricky but once again I won't be surprised if Yoots won.

MJF (c) vs. The Righteous (Vincent and Dutch) 2-on-1 Handicap match for the ROH World Tag Team Championship:

Unless Adam comes to help out I think Max might have bitten off more than he could chew. But it's MJF he'll probably find a way to cheat to win.

FTR (Cash Wheeler and Dax Harwood) (c) vs. Aussie Open (Kyle Fletcher and Mark Davis) Tag team match for the AEW World Tag Team Championship:

Everyone's saying FTR are done with the titles but I'll forever have faith in my boys. I'm going FTR.

Chris Jericho and The Golden Lovers (Kenny Omega and Kota Ibushi) vs. The Don Callis Family (Konosuke Takeshita, Sammy Guevara, and Will Ospreay) (with Don Callis) Six-man tag team match:

Now everyone has lots of beef in this feud and everyone (apart from kota) has lost to their enemy in this. But I'm going golden lovers and Jericho cause Kenny hasn't won a match for ages lol.

Hangman Adam Page vs. Swerve Strickland (with Prince Nana) Singles match:

This match is the one I'm looking forward to so so so much , I think Swerve is gonna win cause its hometown advantage but I think this is gonna be my favourite match of the night. Its gonna get intense I just KNOW it!.

The Young Bucks (Matt Jackson and Nick Jackson) vs. The Gunns (Austin Gunn and Colten Gunn) vs. The Lucha Brothers (Rey Fenix and Penta El Zero Miedo) (with Alex Abrahantes) vs. Orange Cassidy and Hook Four-way tag team match for a future AEW World Tag Team Championship match:

Now if the bucks book themselves to win this match everyone is gonna lose their goddamn minds.

Buuuuut ...... nah I'm joking I think OC and hook are gonna win it cause they're being pushed to the moon right now.

Christian Cage (c) vs. Darby Allin Two out of three falls match for the AEW TNT Championship:

Well well well , emo baby in the main event I'm so goddamn proud. This match gonna be brutal, it's gonna be intense, it's gonna be bloody and it's gonna be full of surprises might get me on the edge ;) of my seat.

Frfr though I think Christian is gonna retain only because he's just won it. But I've a feeling there's gonna be shenanigans with nick Wayne and Luchasaurus and Adam copeland and maybe just maybe sting.

[thoughtsbeewild]

When is the company going fire the supervisor now that evil selfie mom director has been fired?

Your not going get away with it! this is director second in command ruthless piece of shit human being. Never encountered in my life a gay woman supervisor who was jealous that people around the organization would look up to me not her or that former fired director. Yet I remember how she would preach morale to our team meetings. PRETEND THAT SHE WAS YOUR SUPPORTER, YOUR FRIEND, YOUR SHOULDER TO TALK TO YOUR CONFIDER, THE LEADER YOU COULD TRUST, BUT IT WAS ALL BULLSHIT. HER INTENTIONS WERE TO GET YOU FIRED, TERMINATED. BUT SINCE SHE HAD NOTHING ON ME, I DID A FUCKING GREAT MOTHER FUCKING JOB AND I FOLLOW THE RULES THE LAW TO THE T, INTERGRITY IS A BIG THING. BUT IN THIS CASE, SUPERVISOR AND DIRECTOR DOES NOT HAVE INTERGERITY. THEY LIE, THEY TWIST WORDS TO MAKE IT APPEAR YOUR THE BAD GUY, WHEN BETTER WAY TO DO THAT IS DOCUMENTING IT. AN EXAMPLE

THESE ARE NEW INSTRUCTIONS GET IT TODAY MONDAY. TUESDAY YOU HAVE 1 TINY ERROR FROM RETARDED DUMBASS INSTRUCTIONS(24 HOURS)

WEDNESDAY-DIRECTOR AND SUPERVISOR DOCUMENTING IN EMAIL YOU ARE CONSIDERED SUBORDINATE, YOU DISOBEY THE DIRECTOR AND SUPERVISOR INSTRUCTIONS. YOU ARE NOT FOLLOWING WHAT WE ASKED. THIS IS THE SHIT THEY WOULD DO. THEY WOULD DO THAT CONSTANT ONE WEEK, SUPERVISOR WOULD USE HER FRIEND THE DIRECTOR TO DRAFT UP AN HR WRITTEN WARNING THAT EMPLOYEE BEHAVIOR HAS BEEN SUBORDINATE TO HER SUPERVISOR AND DIRECTOR. YOU CAN TELL FROM EACH INCIDENT, THEY MADE UP LOTS OF LIES STATING IM MEAN,IM RUTHLESS, I BELITTLE PEOPLE. TOTAL BULLSHIT, YOU JEALOUS BITCHES COULDNT STAND THAT ALOT PEOPLE FROM ACROSS THE ORGANIZATION LOOKED UP TO ME FOR ANSWERS LIKE A TRUE LEADER. ITS BECAUSE WHEN THEY GOT HIRED ON AS EXTERNAL EMPLOYEES, PEOPLE DIDNT KNOW THEM AND LEADERS DIDNT RESPECT THEM BUT RESPECTED ME. THAT MADE THEM SO MADE BECAUSE I WAS A PUNY HUMAN AT A LOWER LEVEL BUT SUPER HELPFUL TO MAKING SURE OUR COMPANY IS SUCESS. BUT THIER GOAL AS A SUPERVISOR AND DIRECTOR, YOU AINT KISSING MY ASS, AINT MY FRIEND OR PART MY DAUGHTER FAMILY, THEN WE GOING FIND LIES MANULIPULATE IN IN HUMAN RESOURCES TO GET YOU TERMINATED. LET GO. YOU KNOW HUMAN RESOURCES WILL NEVER DEFEND A SO CALLED BAD EMPLOYEE WRITTEN BY SUPERVISOR AND DIRECTOR, THEY ARE GOING HAVE LEADERSHIP BACK. THAT IS THE PROBLEM WHEN YOU HIRE HUMAN RESOURCES WHO WILL NOT LISTEN BOTH SIDES. IT MORE YOUR WORD AGAINST EVIL LEADERSHIP TEAM WHO WANTS YOU GONE. SUPERVISOR HAS DONE THIS TO SO MANY PEOPLE PRIOR TO MY DEPAURTURE. AND MY FRIEND WHO JUST LEFT RECENTLY LIKE 2 WEEKS AGO, SAID THIS SUPERVISOR WAS TRYING SAME SHIT SHE DID WITH ME TO THEM. I SAID I TOLD YOU, SUPERVISOR IS AN EVIL TWISTED BITCH. SHE WILL NOT GET AWAY WITH IT, EVEN with her HIRED EVIL FRIENDS WHO WORK WITH HER, LIKE THE ORANGE MAN SAYS "FRIEND SPYS AT THE JOB" WAYS TO CHEAT, CON AND GET AWAY WITH IT.

I FELT LIKE I WAS IN ORANGE MAN POSITION OR THE ORANGE MAN SHOES , WHERE YOU DEAL WITH REAL LIVE POWERFUL EVIL WOMEN DEMONCRATS LIKE NANCY PELOSI WHO YOU DARE QUESTION, DEFY , DEMONCRATS WILL MAKE YOU PAY HELL. THEY WILL USE THIER POWER OF AUTHORITY, WHICH IS THIER JOB TITLE TO MAKE YOU PAY! THATS WHAT THE FIRED DIRECTOR, HER FRIEND SUPERVISOR WHO STILL EMPLOYED(YOUR NOT GOING GET AWAY WITH IT FOR LONG, KARMA IS WATCHING, AND DIRECTOR LOWER LEVEL EMPLOYEE FRIENDS.

[slothgiirl]

the medic (keith x reader)

17k. something weird’s going on with keith, like alien weird. as the team medic, you’re concerned.

“So he is avoiding me,” you muse aloud, grabbing one of the pink alien food biscuits that were Hank’s latest experiment. Though it had been hours since Voltron had taken out the Galra Empire’s presence on this Balmera, you’d only just seen the last of your patients. Altean medical equipment did wonders.

After a battle, you were hardly surprised to find Hank in the kitchen, grounding himself as he cooked. You were surprised to run into Keith.

“Yeah,” Hank nods, “Probably trying to avoid another dental exam.”

You flush bright red, “His teeth fell out! Sorry for being concerned.” Between you and Lance, you’d managed to get a look at Keith. A fist fight with some alien species that was cooperating with the Galra had not gone Keith’s way, knocking out two of his teeth.

Shiro, predictably, had waved it off and accepted Keith’s insane explanation that his teeth would grow back on their own without question: given his hand waving of the red paladin’s eyes glowing slightly in the dark, more than any human’s should (human eyes didn’t glow at all!). Hindsight was twenty twenty.

The yellow paladin shrugs as he mixes orange noodle-esque things in a bowl.

Team Voltron was full of strong personalities. Add in Lotor and his friends dropping in, there was always something going on.

Hank just wanted to unwind from spending the past few hours destroying heavy duty mining equipment without hurting the planet. “So how are the biscuits?”

You chew on one, still bothered by Keith. Maybe Hank was right and he was trying to hide something from your keen gaze. You hoped not. Knowing the red paladin, and after two years in space, you certainly did, he’d rather suffer in silence until there was no other option than get medical attention. Back on earth with needles and scalpels, you understood, but in the Castle of Lions…

“Kind of like a rice cracker,” you tell Hank helpfully. “In a good got snacks at H-Mart way, not the sad quaker oats rice snacks.”

“Oh H-Mart,” Hunk smiles, “they don’t have those in space. They do have salt though. Found that at the last market we went to.”

“As long as alien food doesn’t poison us,” you comment. It was lucky that hadn’t happened. It was alien food. But not one negative reaction which either made humans some of the most hardy species or you were just lucky.

“Yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing what’s edible and not. I know Pidge said there’s some books, but my Altean is pretty bad.”

“Languages are hard.”

“Wish there was a space version of google translate.”

“Hunk-”

“Yeah.”

“That’s genius!” You look at the yellow paladin, wondering how a universe with speech translators never thought to do the same for written language.

“I know,” Hunk smiles while popping another tray into the oven.

—————

Lance finishes painting your toenails. It was a rare day when there were no space battles or rebel meetings. “Pidge,” the blue paladin whines, “let me paint your-”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“It’s supposed to be team bonding night,” Lance counters.

“Lance,” Allaura frowns from where she’s sitting with Shiro, “the castle’s night cycle has not started.”

“Well we can change it,” he counters, “there’s no up or down in space. OR day or night.”

“You can paint my nails,” Hunk offers. “Won’t last long though between the cooking and the vents I’ve been cleaning. This is a 10,000 year old castle. No offence,” he glances at Allura.

“No offence at all. The battles have taken their toll and I’m sure Coran appreciates the help. He is only one man.” She lets out a sigh. The only other remaining Altean was a bittersweet subject for her.

Hunk kicks off his shoes. “My pleasure. Literally. This Castle is so cool. The artificial gravity alone!”

You watch the paint dry on your toes. Only your big toes had actual drawings on them, strange alien creatures you’d all encountered over your time in space. The others were clear with green and blue swirls. “You’re a good artist Lance.”

The blue paladin winks, “I’m a regular old Michaelangelo.”

You laugh, “of course you are.”

“And I’m not just good with a brush,” he wiggles his eyebrows, more boyish flirting than anything serious.

You roll your eyes.

Pidge throws a cushion at Lance. “Oh please like you’ve got past the first date!”

“I have! Vivian Tran from Calculus.”

“Can you focus on my nails,” Hunk asks, but Lance is busy waving the thin brush in hand as he argues with Pidge.

“And Atticus from Cantonese.”

“Didn’t you drop that class,” Hank asks.

“Well, the hindi teacher was way nicer and didn’t hate me. I was good at drawing the characters though.”

“Can you speak hindi,” you ask, having taken French for your language fulfillment.

“Eh-” Lance shrugs.

“Can you flirt in Hindi is the real question,” you ask with a grin.

“He can’t even flirt in English,” Pidge points out scathingly.

“Hey!”

“My nails Lance,” Hunk grumbles.

“Right. Right,” Lance focuses back on his task, going with a yellow that matches Shay. “What language did you take Shiro?”

“English.”

“How many dialects does Earth have,” Allura asks.

“A lot,” Shiro tells the alien princess. “The Garrison pushes being multilingual in its program. Most cadets were already bilingual to start with, generally covering major languages.”

“Ah.”

“Got bored of the training room,” Pidge asks Keith as he walks in, flopping down on an empty sofa.

“It timed out.”

“Sure,” Lance immediately starts, a dog with a bone, “not like you couldn’t beat it or anything.”  

“You can’t even get past level 9!” Keith growls back, sitting up with a jolt, skin still slick from sweat and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

Lance gets up, puffing out his chest. Oh boy, here they go again. The rivalry thing they had going on got old fast to everyone around them. While it did push them to be better paladins, it was annoying to hear. “Oh like you’re any better.”

Hunk takes the brush from Lance, finishing off his last toe on his own.

“I am,” Keith bites back, a growl still audible from his chest.

“Only because you cheat!”

“It’s not cheating!”

“How is it not-” Lance stops, furrows his brow, then grins. “You got a little something there.” And like a thirteen year old, Lance points and laughs.

Keith frowns, his hand coming up to his cheek.

Sure enough, Lance was right. Keith had a couple of angry red blemishes on his cheek.

“You have adult acne,” Lance giggles, immature as ever. He was always able to find an angle to everything. It was what made him such an excellent strategist.

“It’s not adult acne!” Keith scowls, scratching at the blemishes.

“Its been three years,” Lance retorts smugly.

You frown. “No. It’s been like two.” You look over at Pidge to confirm, “Right?” You were like ninety percent sure you were twenty.

“Two and a half,” Pidge answers.

“Ha! You’re twenty! Adult-”

“I don’t have adult acne!”

They’d fought over more meaningless things before.

If it was two and a half years, maybe you were twenty one? You frown. How old would you be before you ever saw your family again?

Stashing that depressing thought away, you focus on Keith and the red marks on his cheek like a line coming down to his jaw. “It could be a rash,” you utter thoughtfully. Pidge and you had already encountered a very itchy plant before. “Or space ringworm-ring line?”

For the first time in days, Keith looks at you, meeting your gaze. “It’s not a rash!”

You lift your hands up, “okay. Okay. Geez.” When it came to Keith, you didn’t push too hard. He was too stubborn for it to work.

Lance, however, “hey, it’s okay Keith-buddy, just use toothpaste.”

“Toothpaste makes it worse,” Hunk counters. “Not great for your skin either.”

“It always worked for me,” Lance counters. “Or a clay skin mask.”

“Clay? You mean that green mud,” Keith clarifies.

“It’s clay!”

“Clay would work,” you agree with Lance. “Hey it could be like a spa day!”

“I could go for a spa,” Hunk nods.

Pidge shakes her head, “right. I’m going to try and see if I can get a signal back home.”

Shiro looks over at you, “do you really think it could be something serious?”

You shrug. “No clue.”

Keith huffs, “Just drop it,” he states dramatically, headed for the door. He was over being the center of attention.

“So face masks?”

You nod, “want to try it Allura?”

“I would love to try the clay mask,” she smiles brightly.

——————

Te-Osh’s rebels had sent for Voltron, less fighting than rebuilding.

While you were no paladin, you had spent the majority of the day helping Allura take stock and synthesizing medicine, everything from serums to numbing gels. Just your luck the machine had overheated and given out on the last batch. It was a pretty large machine.

You stick your head inside, waving off the smoke. With your nails, you pry open the hutch and take stock. You were no Pidge or Hunk, still unsure how the thing even worked, but it was clear it needed a new regulator and starter. “Plenty of those lying around,” you utter, scrunching your face at the awful burnt hair smell. Your finger finds the ventilator button on your wrist controls, and there-the smell gets sucked out of the room.

“Is this a bad time,” Keith asks behind you.

Startled, you bang your head on the mental. “Keith,” flushing hotly when you look back and realize you were ass up in front of him.

He doesn’t even notice, grimacing, hand rubbing his nose bridge.

“What’s wrong?” You hurry to wash your hands.

Keith sits down at one of the medbay tables. “My skull feels like it’s being cracked open,” he explains flatly.

You look him over closely, standing right in front of him. “Where exactly,” you ask, frowning when you notice the blemishes had grown to a full blown rash, hot angry skin peeling and cracking like twin marks down his cheeks. You should have pressed. What if it was a parasite? Keith was half galra.

It was easily forgotten given how human he looked. Sure, the signs were there: his unhuman night vision, more strength than he should have, good ears and nose, nails that had torn through metal, but it all faded into the background.

“Does it itch,” you ask, raising your hand, fingertips hovering over the marks on his cheeks.

“Yes,” Keith nods, averting his eyes from your gaze, “mostly it’s hot. And my sinuses…all the way down to my neck. Hurt.”

“Hm,” you turn, reaching for the medical scanner. There was no way you could ever go back to being a medical officer at the galaxy garrison. Earth’s technology was ancient in comparison. “Hold still.”

“Alright,” he says seriously. Keith holds his breath.

You look up at him, in his violet eyes, and smile before laughing. “Keith!”

“You said to hold still,” he points out sincerely, before the corners of his lips turn up. Keith was an expressive guy, his smile lit up his entire being, a lightness in his eyes that made you smile wider.

“Let’s try this again,” you giggle, clicking the scanner and aiming right at his rash first. “Pew.”

He rolls his eyes, snorting. “You too?”

“Mine’s the only right one,” you wink, then look over the reading.

“Not even close.” He scratches at his cheek listlessly.

Whatever reason he had for avoiding you had worked itself out. You’d missed his company.

“Oh yeah,” you challenge, “then what’s the sound?” The readings came up clear. Keith was in perfect health. So not a parasite…space allergies? Those wouldn’t come up on the scanner.

“What is it,” Keith asks, noticing your pensive expression.

“How’s your sense of smell? Stuffy nose?”

He looks up, then takes a deep breath, “now that you mention it…I can’t smell your soap anymore.”

“What?” This was news to you. “You can smell my soap?”

“And whatever planet we’ve been on,” Keith fidgets, blushing as he ducks his head, bangs falling over his eyes, “the soil. It’s all different. But I can’t right now.”

That was worrying. But if the scanner said nothing was wrong…you had to wait and see. It might clear up on its own. You’d give it a day or two.

“Nothing came up on the scanner,” you tell him, “so it should go away on its own. It might just be allergic to something out here.”  

He nods, accepting your diagnosis.

“Let me get the medicine.”

“Mhm.”

You pass him a tube of gel and add that to the list of medication you need to synthesize once you fix the machine. Then grab a weekly supply of pain tabs. “Here.”

Keith pops one in immediately.

“Let me know if it doesn’t clear up in two days,” you tell him.

“Worried?”

“Eh, I can always set Lance on you again,” you snort. Shiro was a pushover when it came to Keith. He was no help.

Keith laughs, looking a little more himself. “I could take him.”

“You could,” you agree, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

He tilts his head, smiling. “Coming? Shay got food for us.”

“I’ve got to fix this machine first.”

“Need help?”

“Might ask Hunk or Coran,” you admit.

“I could-”

“No,” you cut him off, placing your hand on his shoulder, “go eat and rest. That’s an order.”

Keith leans into you. “Are you going to write me a doctor’s note too,” he asks, his delivery always so earnest you had to do a double take to figure out if he was joking or not.

“If I have too,” you stick your nose in the air. “I’ll even send one to Zarkon.”

Keith laughs easily. “Why didn’t Lotor think of that.”

You snort. “I’m going to check your lymph nodes,” you tell him, taking a step towards him again. “That okay?”

Keith tilts his head back, “Go for it.”

“Wow,” you chuckle, “who are you and what did you do with Keith Kogane.” You brush his hair out of his face.

“What?”

“Remember when you broke your arm,” you point out, gently pressing your fingers over the side of his throat, feeling the swelled bean shaped lymph nodes under his ears, behind his jaw. “And said nothing for like a week?” It had been your first year at the Galaxy Garrison.

“It was only a sprain,” Keith grumbles.

“Still!” You laugh, “I’m glad you asked for help.” Because this was still Keith and you didn’t want him to think you were laughing at him.

“Mm,” he closes his eyes as you trail your fingers lower, making sure it wasn’t too bad.

The fact they were inflamed at all worried you. You had no clue what was the space equivalent of antihistamines.

Keith’s breath tickles your shoulder, deepening and evening out like he’d finally relaxed. That was most of your patients once you gave them answers and they knew they’d be getting care and treatment. You liked helping people.

You pull your fingers back, ever the consummate professional. It was like the ghost of your garrison advisor was hovering over your shoulder. “They’re not too swollen if you can still eat. Can you still chew?”

“Hm?”

Keith opens his eyes. His expression is glazed and feverish.

“Keith,” you utter, worried.

“Yeah?” His gaze is heavy as it meets yours.

Your skin warms up because he wouldn’t stop looking at you like that.

“Any jaw pain,” you ask, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your hand up to his forehead. He was warm.

Keith leans into your touch, “no.”

“Good.” You bite your lip. Could it be some weird galra thing? Wouldn’t it have come up? You feel your own forehead. He was for sure warmer.

You were going to have to corner Coran about it.

Keith lets his eyes fall shut again and honest to god purrs, leaning into you.

Add cornering Lotor to your list.

You don’t pull away, figuring it was harmless. Lance, Hunk, and Allura were more prone to random hugs. You were more than happy to indulge Keith as well. He already wasn’t feeling well.

You wrap your arms around the red paladin’s shoulders, hugging him, “I’m looking forward to a break from Coran’s post mission food goo once I get done with the machine.”

“Mm.”

He was completely out of it.

His breath tickles your cheek.

“Though I’m not sure there’ll be any left if I don’t go there? Maybe I should grab a plate and then come back here,” you ramble. Keith had never sought you out for comfort. It was touching that he trusted you now. You’d been friends with the others before, with Keith and Shiro and the Alteans, you had skipped right over friendship and gone right to family.

“Oh.”

You look behind you.

Te-Osh takes a step back, “forgive my intrusion. I was unaware-”

Keith snaps out of whatever was going on with him. Bolting off the exam table. “It’s fine. We’re done here.” He hunches his shoulders and beelines for the door.

You frown, still processing.

“I can come back,” Te-Osh tells you, glancing between you and the door Keith had just escaped through.

You shrug. “No. I’ve got time. What do you need?”

“If you’re sure?”

Nodding, you smile, “yeah, what can I help you with?”

———————

“Here is where we will focus the blunt of the attack on. Keith, Lance, engage the fighters. Hunk,” Shiro explains, “you’ll be with me taking out the communications towers. We want to keep the damage to the minimum. The resistance leaders want the factory intact. Pidge-”

Pidge waves the Black Paladin off, “I’ve got the code written.”

“It really does come in handy,” Lance observes, “all those vents are Pidge size.”

The green paladin grumbles, “easy for you to say when you’re not the one crawling around in there. It’s not your knees getting banging up.”

“Well the galra are all like nine feet tall,” Hunk points out, “the vents probably aren’t that small from their perspective.”

Lance unsubtly glances over at Keith.

His rash had cleared up, but not before spreading. In its place were two purple slash marks running from his cheek to jaw, galra markings. No one had pressed…yet.

You were just glad it wasn’t some weird space parasite.

Her brother ruffles her hair, “Pidge sized! A micro pidge,” Matt jokes to himself.

She smacks his hand away, “five feet is a perfectly reasonable size.’

“She could still have a growth spurt,” you add, though it was highly unlikely.

“No,” Matt’s eyes go comically wide as he hugs his sister, “not my hobbit,” relishing in her embarrassment.

“Matt!”

“In summation,” Allura calls you all back to attention, “the paladins will take out Galra forces and Pidge will open the weapons factory up to Vexuin rebels to take over. I will be manning the Castle to ensure no fighters target the work camps and coordinating communications with the rebels.” She turns to look at you, “Matt and you will take down the sentries, freeing the people from the work camps.”

“No!”

Everyone looks over at Keith. The horror on his face is easy to read.

What had brought this on?

Shiro clears his throat.

Keith ducks his head, letting his bangs obscure his features.

“Why not,” Pidge asks grumpily, time was running out. You were all just ironing out the details, “your plans suck.”

“Pidge,” Shiro chastises.

The green paladin was right.

Keith fought the same way you played video games, caring about nothing but reducing the enemies stats to zero. He’d gotten great at teamwork, but he was hardly a strategist.

“Keith,” Allura asks, “do you have any legitimate reasons why Matt should go on his own?” And when she phrased it like that…

The red paladin crosses his arms over his shoulders.

Pidge taps her foot on the floor.

“Okay then,” Shiro takes over, “let’s get to our lions.”

“Coms. Come in earthlings!,” Coran chimes in over the system, “remember this planet’s atmosphere is toxic to breath, too much sulfur in the air, not to mention the heat will give you all a taste of the slipperies. And worse! So keep those space suits on Vol-”

“-Tron,” Lance grins back, having taken a liking to having a kooky space alien uncle.

You lock your helmet in place as Matt pilots the pod towards the work camps. They were just as grim as the first time you’d seen them. It was the same all over in many of the Empire’s work planets. They were at the bottom of the totem pole. There were some planets where the native species and Galra coexisted more or less peacefully, this was not one of them.

“So what’s up with Keith,” Matt asks you.

You shrug. “No clue. I keep waiting for Lotor or one of the Blades to drop in so I can corner them but he’s a picture of perfect health so I’m not worried.”

“But the,” he takes a hand off the wheel, motioning to his face.

You frown, arching a brow. You’d never looked at Allura quite the same after the way she had treated Keith upon learning about his heritage. It’s not like he’d been a completely different person, she’d known him for over a year.

Matt might be Pidge’s brother, but you weren’t about to let anyone get away with giving someone you loved shit. Especially not Keith who would just silently take it.

It made your chest ache, thinking about how sweet he looked when he smiled. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“What about it?” You stare back at him cooly.

Matt focuses back on landing the pod just beyond the sentires line of sight. “Nothing. Pidge figured it was nothing, didn’t even seem curious. I figured you might know, you two are pretty close.” He glances over at you meaningfully.

“We’ve known eachother since the garrison,” though you hadn’t really been friends. Keith had been kind of a loner. You’d tried to include him, having shared a couple classes with him here and there, but he’d never taken you up on any offer.

“Right.” He doesn’t sound all that convinced. “Glad to hear it’s all good. I caught the sneazles while in the work camp,” Matt makes a face.

You laugh.

“It was horrible! But also like an episode of spongebob somehow?”

“Space is weird.” You had way bigger problems and had seen stranger things by now. For fucks sake, you were saving dragon looking aliens from the Galra right now. This planet was like a silent hill game!

Thick fog obscured the rocky landscape. Even from within your suit you could smell the stench of rotten eggs. Yet this was home to the Vexuin.

Shiro gives the signal.

You take the safety off the taser gun Pidge had built for you. Anything pilfered off the Galra was too large for your small stature, just a hair shorter than Keith. The gun packed a punch, with enough voltage to take out the robots.

Matt and you get to work.

“Almost got it,” Matt mutters as you take aim and shoot.

Stupid damn biolocks.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you tell him, dodging a shot from another sentry before frying it with your own weapon. One shot, one sentry. You needed to take them down before they got close. The robots were durable and strong. You knew better than to think you could go hand to hand with one, you were a medic not a fighter.

“I am, I am,” Matt insists. “Ah there,” he grabs a taser flash bomb out of his pocket and tosses inside the sentry outpost.

You shoot again, trying to keep your hands steady. It was easy when it was just programmed machines. Nothing to feel bad about.

Matt and you rush inside, stepping over more fried sentries. You take position at the entrance, gunning down anything that makes its way towards the two of you.

“You in,” you ask him.

“Patience my young apprentice,” Matt says, laughing at his own joke, “it’ll take a moment for my worm to work its way through the software and give me complete control.”

The ground shakes as the main part of the battle takes place outside, at a monsterous factory that’s gray, chimney shooting out smoke. You can only see hints of lions shooting and Galra fighter ships lighting up the sky.

The sulfuric fog coats everything.

You taste rotten eggs on your breath.

Inside your suit, sweat runs down your back.

“Okay,” Matt chimes into the coms, “I’ve hacked the camps. Ready to open the gates.”

The rolling low grutal voices of the Vexuin rebel leaders fill your coms, “Good.”

“Go ahead Matt,” Allura gives the order, “Voltron?”

Pidge answers, “dropping in, should override their” static, “ticks.” Then an explosion reverberates in your ear where the communications device is.

“Pidge,” Keith yells out.

“Keith cover Lance,” Shiro grunts out, blasts audible from here. “Pidge?”

Nothing.

Matt’s face goes ghostly white.

“Pidge, come in Pidge?” Allura asks. “Paladins? Are you able to reach Pidge?”

“Negative,” Shiro replies, “Hunk, take the main gate! Time to land.”

“On it.”

“Guys,” Lance yells, “the shield’s down. Pidge hacked them.”

“Keith,” Shiro yells, “wait!”

“Fine.”

You decide to hope for the best. There was nothing you could do for any of the paladins all the way from here. “Turn it off,” you tell Matt.

He steals himself. “Right.”

The lights of the compound go out. Sentries power down where they stand, puppets with their strings cut. Locks disengage, and for the first time in decades, the Vexuin are free to leave the barracks free from Galra supervision.

You and Matt go out to meet them.

“I could get used to this,”  Pidge calls out as everyone meets on the planet’s surface. Rebels come in from the forest slowly, making sure this is for real, before sniffing the air and calling out to their loved ones lingering around the liberated camp complex.  Their vision worked in the infrared, all the better to see on this planet. You’d need at least three showers to get the smell out of your hair.

Keith carries Pidge, careful not to jolt the youngest member of Voltron. She holds a leg stiffly, a sprain or fracture.

Matt rushes to his sister, “Katie!”

She waves him off, “I’m fine.” Then snaps her fingers, “Down.”

There’s a small smile on Keith’s mouth as he places her down on the ground gently.

Lance comes up behind Keith, ruffling his hair, and being every bit himself as he comments with a smirk, “good boy.”

The shorter paladin smacks Lance’s hand away, but it’s too late, Lance is already smothering Keith in a hug that turns into a competition, like always with those two. Keith shoves at Lance’s face while Lance tightens his grip on Keith.

Shiro clears his throat, “paladins.”

“A dobesh in the pod,” you ask Pidge as Matt gets his turn to fuss over her.

“Yeah. Landed right as an explosion went off,” Pidge frowns. “Not my best moment, but my program still did it’s job and,” she pats her bayard, “I took them out.”

“Can’t be that bad if you can stand,” you agree. Nothing serious but you’d be keeping an eye on her all the same. The faster she got into the pod and took weight off her injury the better. You didn’t want to exacerbate the sprain.

“The jet pack helped,” Pidge points out.

“Lucky you,” you grin.

Shiro and Allura are consummate professionals as they go over the last of the logistics with the Vexuin, “It would be wise to stay until your people have situated themselves in case the Galra Empire retaliates,” Allura states, ending her sentiment in a question, “but it is ultimately up to you.”

The Vexuin chatter among themselves for a moment before one speaks up, “we would not turn down Voltron’s help. A few quintants should be enough time.”

“Then we will make ourselves of service to you,” Shiro nods. “Please, let us know anything we can help with.”

A red scaled one smiles, showing off her many sharp and jagged teeth, “our people long to see the camp destroyed.”

Hunk offers, “I could help rig a controlled explosion.”

“Very good.”

“The system inside the weapons factory is down,” Pidge tells them, “but I can reprogram it to keep the Galra out so that you can decide what to do with the place.”

“Oh no you don’t,” you cut in, “Matt can take care of that. You’re going in a pod first.”

“Pod person,” Matt mutters under his breath with a snort.

“Then let us get to work,” Allura dismisses everyone.

Pidge tries to take a step, and almost falls over.

You grab her.

Her face goes crimson from the pain.

The adrenalin must have been keeping the bulk of the pain away.

Keith picks her up.

It’s not until you’ve loaded Pidge in for three vargas that you pull off your helmet, savoring the crisp clean air of the Castleship.

“I can still smell the sulfur,” you comment, wrinkling your nose.

Keith shakes his hair out.

You look at him thoughtfully, “must be worse for you though.”

“Why,” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

“Because your nose,” you point out, then frown, “your sinuses did clear up yeah?” He never said anything about it so you figured they had and he could smell fine again, but you weren’t sure.

“Oh. Yeah. They did.”

You smile fondly, “very convincing Keith,” you tell him, reaching out to him. He lets you run your fingers right under his ears, behind his jaw. Everything was in order.

A knot of anxiety dissolves in your chest.

“Well,” he asks, “satisfied?”

“Mhm.” You look at the purple markings on his skin.

Keith’s breath hitches. His gaze is trained on you, watching carefully.

“So if not rotten eggs,” you ask, slowly bringing your fingertips over the marks on the sides of his face, giving him every opportunity to pull away, “what do you smell?” You couldn’t help it. It was that scientific curiosity. Everyone at the garrison had ended up there because they were nerdy in some way: devoting themselves to some STEM field while other kids were watching cartoons. You’d had a stutter as a kid, self conscious about it too, so instead of trying to make friends you read your textbooks under your desk, racing ahead.

Keith’s eyes meet yours. There’s a level of vulnerability in his gaze that worms its way into your chest and all of a sudden you’re incredibly aware of how close you two are, the lack of space between your bodies, your fingers caressing his skin.

You look away, focusing on the marks. They were purple, which was obvious. His skin itself had grown purple, perfectly delineated.

“Like wet soil,” Keith explains finally, “when they just added fertilizer.” You wince, remembering the smell of the horticulture center wafting through the garrison’s campus during the spring. “And garlic.”

“I like garlic. I’d kill for some,” you tell him, sounding very much like Hank. You hadn’t expected to be homesick for food. “Best food they served at the cafeteria.”

“That’s not saying much,” Keith mutters, amused.

You chuckle, pulling your hands away from his face.

He leans forward, asking for physical comfort in a very Keith way: unsubtle and wordlessly, putting the onus on you to get the hint.

Pidge must have freaked him out more than he was willing to discuss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging Keith. “Pidge’ll be fine.” Sure, she was younger and short, but she was more than capable of handling herself. “I’m more concerned about how she left the other guys,” you comment lightly resting your chin on Keith’s shoulder.

His shoulders shake as he laughs easily. “They asked to surrender to her personally.”

“That’s Pidge all right.” You glance over at the pod. She’d be back on her feet in no time.

Keith’s breath against your skin feels nice. Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself blushing and pulling away, thoughts racing as you realize just how much you liked this boy. You pull away, unsure what to do and suddenly finding it too awkward to be around him at all.

The start of a whine escapes his throat before he smothers it, looking away, as he lets his bangs fall over his eyes, effectively hiding his easy to read features.

“Let’s go help the others,” you say, fumbling to grab a med kit and click your helmet back in place, your face too warm and it must be obvious. You didn’t want to make things weird. You didn’t. But-

“I’m going to stay here until Pidge wakes up,” Keith tells you.

“Oh. Okay.” You nod. “That’s a great idea. It’s always confusing as hell to get out of the pods.” It was akin to waking up from a midday nap: completely confused and exhausted instead of rested.

Your skills would be more useful with the Vexuim than fussing over Pidge at the moment. And having something to do would keep your mind off Keith.

—————

“You know,” Lance comments, sliding up to you as you watch Lotor strut away from you after another failed attempt to talk to him. “If we bottled up whatever galra repellant you have going on, we could defeat Zarkon with perfume.”

You look over at Lance, trying to suppress a smile. “What would you call it?”

“Starlight.”

“That’s-that’s actually pretty great,” you tell Lance.

“I know,” he grins. Then the latino boy sobers up, “trying to find out what’s going on with mullet?”

You nod. “I even tried to corner Acxa,” you admit. For an eight foot tall purple alien, boy could she make herself scarce.

Lance’s eyes widened in delight, “like could and should peg me Acxa?”

You groan. “Lance, sometimes it’s okay to keep things to yourself.”

“I’m just saying,” he laughs, “the ship’s not that big…”

“It’s designed for six thousand people.” You’d learned that fun tidbit while practicing your Altean with Pidge.

“Like for real!”

“Yeah.”

“Ay dios mio,” Lance utters, “you’re screwed.”

You finally hit the motherlode.

Lotor and his generals are in a stately room that reminds you of the socratic lecture halls at the garrison, sofa arranged in a half circle, with Shiro and Allura. The former Prince had shown up for a reason beyond making a nuisance of himself. Allura looks at her wits end with him, as he smiles like a douche, her eye twitching.

She invites you in without hesitation, “take a seat next to me,” and effectively uses you as a human shield against Lotor.

Literally since you and Shiro were the only humans here.

“Everything has been thoroughly discussed,” Lotor comments dryly, snubbing you once more. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared but you were trying to get information out of the man. “Unless either of you have further questions?”

Shiro hums, rubbing his chin, “I know saddling you with a rebel ship or two will slow you down but I don’t see another way around it. A display of size on their part will go a long way to show it is an alliance and not the Galra Empire hy another name.”

Allura nods, a small smile on her lips as she looks over at Shiro, “The black paladin is right. It will be a steep hill to climb to show that you are not the Galra Empire. Their fears would be alleviated with the presence of the rebel alliance.”

Zethrid sucks in a sharp breath, “So that’s it then. We will always be scorned and merely tolerated.”

“Time,” Shiro sighs with a look of gentle understanding at the muscular woman, “they need time. You can’t erase 10,000 years of history. It is hard to extend trust after being imprisoned and enslaved.”

“The alliance has started coordinating with you and the Blade directly have they not,” Allura asks stiltedly. It was by the necessity of time that they had stopped going through Voltron first. Lotor might be too smug for his own good, but his team was effective at sabotaging warships and infiltrating Galra ranks to liberate prisons and cities, enough to turn the tide for the rebels.

Her feelings towards Lotor and the Blade were still tinged with suspicion, her treatment of them lukewarm at best.

Still, Lotor brushed it off and continued to help. “Well then, Princess, Shiro, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shiro nods.

They shake hands.

You stand up, ready to corner Lotor.

“But first a word Shiro, it is a private matter.”

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro leads Lotor away.

Your eye twitches.

That snake!

Zethrid and Narti walk purposefully away as Allura pushes in her chair, ignoring the last two of Lotor’s team. “Princess,” Acxa, tries. “Until next time.” She nods at you, “stay safe.”

Allura gives the woman a strained smile, hooking her arm with yours. Human shield.

“You too,” you tell her. She doesn’t wait, already halfway out the door. You sigh.

Ezor giggles, by far the friendliest and easiest to get along with of Lotor’s team. “Stashing food and water will cut down the embarrassment by half.”

“What?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “I guess Lotor was right. Darn it! Now I owe him one hundred GAC.”

“Wait-”

But she scurries off.

“Ugh,” you kick the wall, tired of everyone being weird. The usual frustration with being caught up in a space war was just the salt on the wound.

Your toe throbs, “fuck,” you hiss.

“They are rather tiring to deal with,” Allura agrees, reading the situation wrong, “but it hardly calls for assaulting the Castle.”

“Sorry,” you flush red with embarrassment. “I just had a question for Lotor and he seems intent on never being in the same room as me.”

“Ah-,” Allura smiles easily, “Lance did mention that you were in possession of a Galra repellent.” The twinkle in her eyes lets you know she was in on the joke.

“Come, let us work our frustrations out with some introspection.” Which was just Altean for weird breathing exercises that supposedly helped you do alchemy. She had managed to rope you into practicing with her before.

“Anything to spare the wall,” you joke.

——————

You walk back from the library. It was a cozy room, especially when you dimmed the lights. The Castle was always so bright, designed with the Alteans sight needs in mind.

Sometimes you just needed some time away from everyone. You loved them, but spending years with the same people while floating through space…you had no clue how Shiro had managed it.

Getting a walk around the ship was also nice. It was easy to forget how big the Castle was when you mainly stayed on the same three floors. Just a couple months ago Coran had rediscovered the greenhouse. The plants were a little piece of Altea, and had quickly become one of Allura’s favorite spots.

The windows were wide portholes. It unnerved you still, looking out and not recognizing any star, any constellations.

A lump of homesickness lodges itself in your throat. It had been over two years, your siblings would have grown so much in that time. You certainly had. The last vestiges of childhood had gone from your face.

Acne cleared up even without Lance’s ten step routine.

You walk across the bridge, trying not to look down. The viewing platform was clear glass in space, you could lay on it. It freaked you out a little.

It was the only constantly dark place in the castle.

You still yelp when you spot Keith, his eyes luminous violet like a glow in the dark t-shirt. That should have tipped all of you off, but alien was not the first thing that came to mind when you previously believed aliens had never visited earth.

He whimpers, curling up further.

“Keith,” you gulp, focusing on him and not the glass separating you from the void of space. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up at you miserably, blinking sluggishly. “I have the worst migraine.”

“And you’re down here instead of getting painkillers?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not as bad, quiet. Dark.”

You sit down next to him. “I can go get you something,” you offer, your cheeks warming up and it was ridiculous how you can’t even manage to act normal around him anymore.

“Coran already gave me a dose.”

“Oh.” You were hurt. You were supposed to be the medic. That was your role on Team Voltron.

You hug your knees to your chest, and look down at space. It was darker than the photographs back on earth. Not so purple and blue.

You weren’t Matt who was just as good as Pidge with technology or Allura who was the leader and a princess to boot, you’d just planned on having a late dinner with Hunk once he got over the motion sickness before Lance roped you into following Pidge. You weren’t a paladin.

Keith shuts his eyes. “You were with Allura. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s no bother.” You swallow thickly, letting silence fall over you both.

You listen to Keith breathing, looking around the darkness of space for any familiar stars. You knew the space around Shay’s Balmerra, and Arus was at least a little familiar. But the universe was so vast and wide.

There were planets you’d only ever been to once, each with a different night sky. Some of them never even had a night, with multiple suns staving off a night cycle.

“Do you think Allura minds?”

“Mind what,” you ask.

Keith clenches his jaw, rubbing his temples. “That I look more Galra.”

Allura has always been harder on the Galra. For her, it had been such a short time since Zarkon had destroyed her world and her people. You didn’t agree, but you could understand where she was coming from, the pain still there as she continuously wore Altean mourning pink.

You look over at him, the outline of his body against the glass. “I think your marks look cool.”

“Bullshit.”

“I do,” you whisper gently, considerate of his migraine. Those were the worst. “They frame your face. You look nice,” you finish lamely, looking away. You look nice. Lance might say stupid things but at least he tried.

“What if I looked even more Galra?”

“Like completely purple and tall?” You couldn’t really wrap your head around it. It also seemed incredibly unlikely. Could his phenotype change so drastically? On earth the answer was no, but who knows how the Galra work. It was fascinating to see such a wide range of traits in one species.

He was also half human.

You worried if his body would even tolerate such a drastic change.

“Yes,” he says, not waiting for you as he rants in agitation, “the rebels hate the Blade and Allura doesn’t trust them at all and that’s not even mentioning Lotor.”

“That’s not true. Te-Osh likes Acza and Ezor. Lotor’s kind of annoying if we’re being honest, and I’m sure his being Zarkon’s son makes it a little hard to believe he’s on our side,” you try to reason. “And don’t write off the Galra who have changed sides or were in the camps right alongside other aliens.”

Keith says nothing in response, mouth a thin line as he thinks.

You wonder how long it’s been bugging him.

You want to reach out and hug him, but he isn’t Hunk. You’re not sure he’d want to if he’s not initiating the contact. So you don’t.

“Everyone knows how the last Galra paladin worked out.” A low growl in the back of his throat is enough to clue you in to how distressing this was for him.

Your heart hurts. “And everyone knows you’re not Zarkon,” you state evenly back. “We already know you’re Galra.”

Keith snorts humorlessly. You can’t see his eyes; they’re hidden by his bangs.

“The glowing eyes are not exactly subtle dude,” you point out, “not to mention your hair does the poof thing guinea pigs do when they’re eating, but not when you’re eating, more like when you get annoyed.”

“I-what!” His eyes go comically wide as he sits up. His dark hair does the thing, making him look like a character from those old Japanese kids movies.

You giggle, “you’re doing it.”

Keith tries to look at his reflection in the glass.

You blush, grateful that it’s too dark to see, and then realize that wasn’t true for him, so you look away, hoping he didn’t notice. “Yeah. I’m the medic, it’s my job to know these things. Like how Pidge has two webbed digits on her foot and Lance is allergic to flax seeds and bees.”

“That…makes sense.” Then he smiles, “still didn’t put two and two together.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” Reason number three thousand Iverson had it out for him back at the harrison. “And if anyone has a problem with you I’ll kick their ass.”

“You?” Keith snorts. “You wouldn’t even flip me during self defense.”

“You remember that?” You run a hand over your face, “I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” you always took forever to practice on your partner. And your weak arms didn’t help.

“That’s what the mats were for.”

“Still!”

Keith laughs at your expense.

You smile, taking delight in watching him smile and laugh and you wish it could always be like this and the war would just end.

Then you sober up. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

He doesn’t answer you right away.

“Keith-” you reach out, voice cracking. “You’re going to be okay, giant purple space cat or not, right?”

He takes your hand, squeezing it firmly. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” you utter, but tears bead up in your eyes anyway. It was terrifying watching someone go through something unknown that you couldn’t help them through for all your medical training. You knew how to set bones and run a pod…not whatever this was.

You trusted Keith.

He knew himself better than anyone. After all, he’d been right about his teeth growing back.

“You really are worried,” he whispers in disbelief.

“Duh.”

“I can smell it on you,” then he seems to realize what he said, and pulls away, ducking his head. Like he hadn’t meant to say so much.

“Really?” Learning about anything alien biology was pretty cool, you had to admit. Allura had once described colours that you couldn’t perceive. It was a fun talk. And then she’d made you meditate for alchemy stuff or so she claimed. It might have just been payback. “Is that new?”

“Yeah,” Keith admits, still drawn into himself. “Can we not-I already feel like enough of a freak already without,” he waves aggressively at himself.

You bite your lip, nodding. You wanted to say something, to get it through his head how you saw him, incredibly kind and fiercely loyal (to the point of taking on Zarkon by himself) and an endearing smile you never got tired of seeing.

You liked him.

The universe was lucky to have him as a paladin.

But you don’t know how to say it in a way he’d accept. And he asked you to drop it, so you do. “Right, I’ll just go then.” He’d been here first, and the glass made you nervous.

Could it withstand a hit from a galra battleship?

Keith opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but he just nods, then winces, “Argh,” he groans as he curls up on his side, covering his ears with his hands.

You rush to his side, kneeling next to him, “Keith,” you utter softly, not wanting to make it worse.

His eyes are pressed close and for all your medical know-how, you’re at a loss.

So you running your fingers through his hair soothingly and wait for the pain to pass.

He shifts, laying his head in your lap as he whimpers.

You can’t stand to watch him and do nothing. You press your com, pinging Shiro and Coran. This was beyond you. He’d trust Shiro with whatever was going on and he’d gone to Coran. You respected that even if it did sting.

Your pride meant little so long as Keith felt comfortable and sought help.

“Shh, shh,” you whisper gently.

Sweat beads on his brow.

Whines escape his throat.

“Fuck,” he grunts, clenching his teeth.

He’s warm to your touch and that rouses another bout of worries. At this temperature it’s a fever, but he didn’t have the symptoms, the flushed cheeks and chills.

Keith curls up further, muscles stiff.

You’re helpless.

After what feels like ages, Shiro and Coran finally appear.

“Number four, Number five,” Coran claps his hands.

You hold out your hand, motioning them to shut the fuck up as Keith winces at the sound.

His hair is damp near his ears.

“Keith,” Shiro utters much more gently, kneeling down on his other side, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He raises his head, blinking groggily at Shiro, trying to concentrate through the pain, “Shiro,” he reaches for his brother who easily pulls him against his chest. Keith buries his head in the crook of Shiro’s neck.

You sit back, trying to get out of the way. Your hands are wet.

You look down and realize it’s blood. His ears-

Oh god.

“Number five,” Coran says gently, helping you up, “I’ll take great care of our Paladin. Why don’t you go get cleaned up.”

You don’t get any sleep that night.

——————

You were always struck with cognitive dissonance walking around colonized planets like Rahiri where the natives and Galra lived side by side. This was not a planet ravaged by the empire. The flora-like aliens in all shades of green with rootish limbs and leaves and petals for hair had assimilated into the Empire, achieving citizenship over generations. 10,000 years deca-phoebs was a long time. That was a huge source of tension in the Alliance, what to do with the world who neither wanted or wished to leave the Empire.

It was also a source of dark humor that no one spared the four of you a second glance despite two paladins of Voltron walking around.

Hunk holds Shay’s hand in front of you as they point and awe and drag their feet on the way to the space port.

“You could always stay with,” Hunk says hopefully, “we could just drop you off. Personal taxi service.”

Shay smiles back kindly, “that would be wonderful but I have been away from home for too long. I am, as you say, a homebody.”

“Aw, yeah,” Hunk chuckles, “I feel that. I like the ground. And dirt. Piloting is overrated.”

“Don’t let yellow here you say that,” Keith comments so dry, you think he’s serious for a second. Allura and Pidge had gone shopping for supplies. That was an advantage of a planet that had not seen war.

Hunk glances back, clearly having forgotten we had tagged along in case anything went down. “Yeah well, she’d like a small moon. Or an asteroid. There’s colonies on those.”

“Very true,” Shay laughs. “I think my balmerra is also like a moon. A beautiful creature. We have learned how to ask for crystals so we do not need to cut them.”

“That’s impressive. Did the books from Allura help,” Hunk asks.

As much as you liked getting to stretch your legs, seeing a different planet where the threat was not imminent, you didn’t like being a third wheel, or fourth wheel if you went according to Coran’s favorite numbering pattern. That inch difference between you and Keith mocked you.

You glance over at the red paladin.

His gaze kept flickering back and forth, around the street. The occasional loud noise of crates being unloaded made him jump.

“You good,” you ask Keith, cracking a joke so he’d know you weren’t judging him. “You see la llorona or Davy Jones?”

“Hm?”

“You know…a famous ghost? Do they have ghosts in space?”

Keith snorts, cottoning on. “They don’t even have ghosts on earth.”

You pull a face, “well that’s no fun. Seriously, you okay? Or have we been made?”

He shakes his head, glancing around again just to be sure. “So much for Zarkon’s finest.”

You laugh, following Hank and Shay into the space port. Shuttles were departing pretty consistently. Everything was in orderly fashion. You especially liked how no one was shooting at you.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“What does?” You watch as Keith shakes his head, making his hair fall back from his face.

Shay and Hunk go to the ticket counter, but you decide to find somewhere off to the side, wanting to give them privacy.

“Stuff.”

You roll your eyes at Keith, “you suck.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “Lotor explained it to me and Shiro…what’s happening.”

“Oh.” You swallow, looking at Hunk and Shay hugging and saying their goodbyes yet again. They’d said them last night at dinner, this morning in the pod, and again when you’d split from Allura and Pidge. It was cute. They were adorable.

“Sorry.”

“Hm,” you glance over at Keith, not sure why he would be sorry about anything. He was the one getting screwed over by half of his heritage.

“You’re hurt.”

“You can smell that too,” you ask him, holding his deep gaze. There was an intense commitment to everything Keith did; it was reflected in the depth of his violet gaze. He didn’t do things in halves.

“Now I can.” He looks at his shoes, red dusting his cheeks. The red didn’t tinge the purple marks on his skin.

“So this is all,” you’re not sure how to put it, “nothing to worry about?”

“He said it was normal. But because I’m half there’s no way to know what to expect.” He looks away as he says it, stiff as he glances around.

The anxiety that had settled into your jaw since you’d had to wash his blood off your hands eases up. “Giant purple space cat,” you joke, nudging his side.

“Oh fuck no,” Keith grumbles. Even that furrowed expression that crossed his chiselled features made you feel all giddy inside.

Bad timing.

“I’m not hurt I-I just wish you trusted me,” you finally admit. It was silly. You felt selfish, so you tack on, “You know I’m here for you if you need me. We all are. I know Shiro’s your brother, but we’re your friends.”

“I know,” he sighs wistfully, “I do trust you…it’s just-it’s been hard. I don’t know how to feel about any of it and I’m not used to it either.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, “I’m being silly, making this about me. As long as you know I’m here for you…I’m not trying to force you to tell me anything…” you cringe internally at yourself. The galaxy garrison had been made up of nerds, so it followed everyone was a character. It hadn’t helped anyone’s social skills.

You wish you could just go, I worry about you because I love you instead of stumbling through word vomit.

“Come on,” Keith brings you out of your thoughts, grabbing your hand and pushing through the crowd of people coming and going to different boarding gates, “I think Hunk’s going to need some comfort food.”

You glance around, finding Hunk’s form making it’s way to you both. He was wiping his eyes, bittersweet smile, making no move to really hide that he was crying.

“Let’s get back to Allura yeah,” he tells you both.

“Or,” you go with Keith’s idea, “we can get something to eat. Allura gave us a good hour or so.”

“Varga,” Keith supplies.

“Yeah, that.”

Hunk nods, “that sounds nice. It’s just,” he looks back at the departing shuttle, “it’s hard. It’s war and you never know when your going to see each other again but it’s not like she can just drop everything and I wouldn’t ask her too, if anything I’d like to retire there. Nice and quiet. Maybe open a restaurant…”

“Vrepit Sal two,” Keith offers.

“Could make it a chain,” you add with a smile. Hunk, like you, was not such a gung ho pilot. You had landed the flight simulation without crashing exactly once, for your final emergency protocol exam.

“Thanks guys,” Hunk grins, “but I think I’ll bring some earth out here. Give these people a taste of traditional earthlign cuisine.”

“So your menu’s going to be as long as Cheesecake Factory’s,” you ask with a silly grin.

“Maybe not that long. A burger, ramen, scratch that, pizza instead of a burger.” Hunk rubs his chin thoughtfully sniffing the air and following his nose to a food stand. You trusted him for food. He had a knack for combining goo and exotically colored food that screamed fake and poisonous into pretty great meals.

Keith was still holding your hand, not as a loose afterthought: every now and then he’d rub his thumb against the back of your hand and it sent a thrill down your spine.

You don’t pull away, wanting to savor the feel of his skin against yours even if it wasn’t that deep. You’d hugged and napped with everyone at least once, grabbing each other’s hands in the confusing crowded hovels of swamp malls (actual swamp malls and not places Coran thought of as a swamp mall).

You nab a table outside the stand.

Everything was in Galra which none of you could read. “Damn,” you mutter looking over.

Hunk glances at Keith without subtlety.

You were starting to think only Allura and Shiro could do subtly.

Keith raises a brow.

“Nothing,” Hunk looks down at his screen.

“Point and hope for the best it is,” you shrug.

“I love a good surprise,” Hunk nods, then looks down at his hands, “we’ll see each other again right? Shay…they’re pretty safe. And well…yellow’s got thick armour.” He sighs, resting his cheek against his fist, elbows on the table.

“Shay’s a badass,” you confort Hunk, “she figured out how to communicate with the Balmera and through the Balmera. She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty freaking amazing,” Hunk blushes.

You order from an alien that somewhat resembles Ezor, all cotton candy color, and twiddle your thumbs, enjoying the rare moment of rest and relaxation.

“I could get used to this,” Hunk comments, savoring the strange dish he’d been served.

“Get a travel food show,” you tease, “I’d watch it.”

“It could be like this all the time,” Keith muses hopefully, “aren’t planets like this proof we could all get along.” He bites into the glowing blue lotus root shaped meal, and blinks widely.

“What,” you ask, looking over at him.

Keith grabs a napkin and spits out his food. “I think I just lost another tooth.”

“You think,” Hunk raises a brow, “how could you not notice a missing tooth?”

“Smile,” you nudge Keith sitting next to you.

He rolls his eyes, before fake smiling which was always so undeniably forced when he did it. You laugh, nodding, “yup, missing tooth.”

Keith frowns for a second, before continuing to eat.

“Oh,” Hunk utters, before he kicks your leg lightly.

You look up, meeting the yellow paladin’s searching gaze.

He looks at you with a knowing smile.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, the tip of your nose burning hotly, you look down, shoving a questionable sticky black slice into your mouth. It was easy to chew despite the sticky-ness, the flavor starchy and nutty.

There was no way this wouldn’t get back to everyone else in the Castle. No way.

They were all so nosy.

Oh fuck.

——————

“It sure is hot in here,” Lance says with a challenging smirk at Keith.

You roll your eyes.

Lance stretches, resting his arms against the back of the sofa, his hand tapping annoyingly against your shoulder.

Keith is unmoved. Or more accurately, Keith’s mouth twists as he tries hard to ignore Lance’s latest attempts to get him to remove his hat, a lime green thing that clashed perfectly as was his fashion sense, or lack of any fashion sense.

Pidge smacks her head, then peaks curiously at Keith: at Keith’s hat.

You flick Lance’s cheek. “Hey hot shot, don’t hug me when you’ve set the thermostat to ninety degrees.”

“Ninety five actually,” he winks, hugging you towards him. Ugh, you couldn’t do it. You’d already done away with your afghan coat, tied your lavender flannel around your waist, what more could you do. You didn’t have shorts in space. The skirts stored in the castle were breezy, but made you feel at risk of tripping over the hem with each step.

“Hm,” Keith voices, taking a seat, “reminds me of home.”

Hunk snorts, “really thought that through,” he tells Lance.

Lance is undeterred. “Could go higher.”

“I don’t think your cow would like that very much,” you point out.

The blue paladin sulks, looking down at you, “you’re just saying that because you like-”

You jab your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What ever happened to do no harm?”

“Technically,” you tell Lance, “I never graduated.”

“She’s got you there,” Pidge smirks from beside Keith. She was taking apart yet another radio. The signal had yet to reach earth.

“Thank you Pidge.”

She shrugs, “It’s true.” Then turns on Keith, “The hat, explain.”

He looks like he wishes he could merge with the sofa at that, slumping in his seat.

You decide to step in, “I’m going to turn the thermo down.”

Lance is quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back onto the sofa, “come on, relax. Like mullet said, it’s homey.”

You throw him a dirty look.

“Keith?” Pidge side-eyes her fellow paladin. He’s sat up, gripping the sofa cushion so tightly he’s ripping hole into the ten thousand year upholstery.

“You okay there buddy,” Hunk asks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

Keith sucks in a breath, and with deliberate motion, pulls the hat from his head.

Oh.

Your eyes widen.

OH.

His ears had changed.

They weren’t nearly as alien as Allura’s, but no one would mistake their shape for human. Keith’s ears tapered up and out, portrudding, but it was more than just a pointed tip, the entire shape of his ears had transformed, resembling a butterfly’s wing. It was still human in color, but…

Hunk breaks the stunned silence first, “so are you going to like to end up purple?”

Keith ducks his head, wrapping his arms around himself.

No one else gets the chance to further interrogate Keith, or hear his own thoughts, because Allura calls everyone up to the bridge.

Lotor hailed the Castle of Lions. Everyone stands around the bridge while Shiro and Allura take the lead as usual. They might as well be twins given how well they got on, communicating differing ideas without undermining the other.

“There are nine warships in the system,” Lotor acknowledges, “I would be much indebted if you would do me the favor of sending Voltron for the aerial battle.”

“The Empire’s presence is still in its early stages,” Acza explains, “but their terraforming development for the planet will cause the destruction of the Talpidae living there.”

“Then we have no choice,” Allura clenches her fist, never one to sit back while there was something she could do about it, “we will provide air support. Sent me the coordinates so that I may Teleduv there.”

Lance is still obviously eyeing Keith’s latest development. It was readily visible, and you were fighting the urge to do the same.

But you weren’t also trying to flick his ears.

Keith growls lowly.

Lance sniggers.

Pidge offers Lance a piece of paper to make paper balls with.

Hunk sighs long sufferingly, having resigned himself to the more childish side of his two friends. They were terrors. Put Pidge and Lance together, and they were gremlins out of a horror movie made for elementary school teachers.

You slip your hand into Keith’s, squeezing reassuringly. It would take some getting used to like anytime someone got a new haircut, but you would. Like his atrocious boots, they’d become an endearing part of him.

Keith squeezes your hand back.

Shiro nods, agreeing with Allura, “have the Talpidae been contacted.”

“Very much so,” Ezor chimes in, “they’re funny little people. And their sensory-”

“The point Ezor,” Lotor sighs, rubbing his nose bridge.

“They sent for help to the rebels. We were closest to their system,” Exor elaborates with a shrug, “they do not have the background to fight head on, and will evacuate most of their people into bunkers, but they have been digging under the new construction and weakening the structural integrity of the Galra outposts.”

“Very well,” Shiro accepts, “Princess Allura and our chief medic will meet with the Talpidae as a show of goodwill.”

“Our only medic,” Hunk points out.

Keith growls, his hand squeezing yours hard.

You all look over at him.

“Red Paladin,” Allura says, trying to look as professional as possible in front of her least favorite of Voltron’s allies, “is something the matter.” She shares a look with Shiro, but otherwise looks unsurprised at Keith’s less than human ears.

Or maybe she’d make a great poker played.

“Can’t you meet with the Talpidae after the battle,” Keith utters harshly.

“They may need immediate tactical support,” Allura reasons, “we should be there in person to provide it.”

“It’ll be fine Keith,” Shiro adds.

Their words do little to calm Keith down. His dark silky hair puffs up. His grip on your hand tightens and you feel miffed. You’d been on the ground working triage before. You might not be a fighter or pilot but you could look after yourself.

You pull your hand out of his. “I really don’t see what the problem is,” you tell Keith pointedly.

“I’ll watch Allura’s back and she’ll have mine.”

Allura nods. “Our chief medic is correct-”

His ears twitch, “You’re not exactly a fighter.”

Shiro covers his face with a hand.

Your brows furrow. You’re livid. “So! I won’t be fighting. We’ll be in the bunkers with the Talpidae. It’ll be safe so it doesn’t even matter.”

“If it’s perfectly safe then you don’t need to be there,” Keith’s voice breaks, a whine escaping his chest but you don’t care, done with the conversation.

“Yikes,” is Ezor’s quiet whisper.

You’re not a paladin so you don’t care, you just stalk off the bridge ready to go scream into your pillow in frustration. Or better yet, go for a swim and scream underwater.

“Wait-” Keith follows you.

You ignore him.

“I just-,” he keeps trying as you stalk down the stairs, deciding your room was better after all if only because you could lock Keith out.

“Listen-,” he whines.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean what,” you round on him, hands on your hips, pissed off and maybe some of its was from being stuck on this stupid ship all the damn time but like eighty percent was earned. You might not be taking on a squad of Galra soldiers, but you could take one on if it came to it.

Keith at least has the decency to look miserable, sad chirrups in his throat as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at the ground.

“Well?” You tap your foot on the ground.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he finally manages. “Especially if you don’t need to be there.”

“But I do,” you counter, “There’ll be people running into those bunkers having escaped soldiers and sentries and the faster they get treated the better chance they have.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Keith repeats himself. “You-you can hold your own.” He looks up at you through his bangs, still hunched in on himself.

“Obviously.” There��s no heat, the anger having deflated already. It was just white hot ache in your chest, hurt at the idea that Keith thought you would get in the way, that you had nothing of value to add to the Alliance and Voltron.

You bite your lip.

Don’t cry, you think to yourself.

You were being dumb.

He was just being plain stupid.

“I mean it,” Keith repeats, “I’m sorry. I was just looking for an excuse to make sure you were safe.”

“Right, because Allura can handle herself but I can’t.” Your voice cracks.

“No,” Keith says in a rush, “it’s not the same.”

“Because I can’t fight?”

“That’s not,” Keith runs a hand through his hair, “It’s me okay. I’m-I’ve always jumped into things without thinking, but I decided to go for it, like breaking Shiro out but now I’m doing things before I even notice and it’s all these stupid Galra instincts!”

You swallow.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you once more. “I didn’t mean to and I’m sorry. No one thinks you can’t handle yourself. That’s why Shiro paired you up with Allura, because he knows you’re capable of watching her back.”

Your smile is fragile as you look over at him, “yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith holds your gaze, looking as skittish as a stray dog. Another whine escapes his throat.

What the heck.

You hug him, “you’re such a dumbass.” You understood why he’d worry. This was war. Pidge was on a two man campaign with Shiro to get Matt to stay on the Castle, both scared witless that Matt might die on a mission with the rebels. Ulaz had died so everyone could get away.

You’d had patients in the last decaphoebs you could do nothing but ease their pain. You’d had patients that you couldn’t even administer anything for the pain because of how torn apart they were: guts spilling out, charred people shapes that you were surprised to still find breathing.

The images would never leave you as long as you lived.

“I’m sorry.” Keith buries his head in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin sent shivers down your spine.

You hug him tightly, aware that every battle could be your last: the last time you saw him. “You’ve said that already,” you tease, memorizing the smell of him, stale sweat and something cloying that you had wanted to bottle up from the moment you’d met him and had never found on anyone else. As embarrassing as it was to admit to anyone other than yourself, Keith smelled good. Really good.

Most people smelled like nothing at all.

He stiffens.

“But it’s nice to hear again.”

Keith smothers a laugh.

You kiss his hair. Boys were so dumb.

He purrs.

You smile goofily, warmth building under your skin, and toes curling up in your shoes. You should say something. Right?

At some point?

Or maybe it shouldn’t be said under the looming threat of an upcoming battle.

Fuck.

You can’t decide, so you say nothing at all.

——————

Bombs still pelt the surface.

Your teeth chatter as the ground shakes even deep underground. Even more soil falls onto you. Your spacesuit was more oche than white at this point as you carry an injured Talpidae in your arms. It’s arm had been completely blown off. Sluggish blue blood oozed out.

Allura was last, tailing the group.

You reach the bunker.

The sentries had followed some of the feeling Talpidae into the tunnels, but they’d been sorted out.

The people here were strange, russet in fur colouring, with no discernable eye, just strange pink flagella protruding from their nose and large claws for digging. They stood at about Pidge’s height.

The bunker seals and you get to work.

Tourniquet here, pain patch there. There were so many of them banged up.

The fight continued on the surface.

The paladins had to form Voltron.

You and Allura work as a team, she takes the bruises and broken bones with no immediate risk of death. You triage the worst of the Talpidae, giving away your precious stash of painkillers to those you can’t save and are not in for a quick death, a Talpidae lies twitching, it’s nose blown off but alive. Another holds it’s hand, but shakes their head when they look at you. They weren’t going to make it.

Training kicks in and you focus on saving those you can.

Your hands stain blue from the blood.

Allura works alongside you.

You cauterize a Talpidae named Soedob’s hand, the claws on their right limb were gone, but most of it was spared.

“You smell Galra,” Soedob utters, blinking out of the pain induced haze as the painkiller kicked in.

You half hear, half don’t, so focused on the task at hand. It was easier to not stop until you were finished and could curl up and sleep and not think about blood and war and Zarkon.

“We have Galra allies,” Allura answers diplomatically, leaving the issue of the half Galra paladin alone.

It irked you.

“No, not them,” Soedob notes. “Those had a different aura.”

“Smell,” you guess, finishing off. You hoped the fighting ended soon. You supply was not unlimited. The castle had better facilities.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Our primary sense is sight,” Allura explains, giving you a long look.

You shrug. You hadn’t even seen any of Lotor and his team. There hadn’t been time. It had all been relayed over coms, over video.

“Another then?”

You swallow thickly, flushing with embarrassment because you both spent time around Keith but Soedob was only smelling him on you and it’s not like you had been doing anything intimate…well, it had felt intimate, hugging Keith, but it wasn’t anything like when cadets snuck into each others dorm room, shoving a sock on the door handle in the universal symbol of don’t bother us. “The red paladin is part Galra.” Mercifully, your voice doesn’t shake from the embarrassment, but you can’t look at Allura.

“Ah,” Soedob nods, neither outraged nor pleased.

Then there’s no more time, you have more Talpidaes waiting for medical aid. You give their own healers some of your supplies, freeing up Allura to find the clan leaders.

You can feel Allura’s questioning glance on you.

——————

“Team meeting in the mess hall,” Shiro calls over the coms system.

“Mess hall,” Pidge rolls her eyes, “it’s the dining room.”

You snort.

“I like to think of it as the dining room too,” Hunk offers. “I mean there’s only eight of us. It’s sort of like being home again.”

“Mess hall makes me think of the garrison,” you admit, falling into step besides them. “and the food.”

“Ugh,” Pidge groans. “That was the worst. Matt wasn’t kidding.”

“It does make the space packs easier to digest,” you muse, “maybe that was the point.” It took the garrison two years to get to Mars. It was funny, once you’d thought that was a long way from home.

“I liked the cheese garlic bread,” Hunk allows.

“Food goo,” Pidge grins, “or the garrison space food?”

“Food goo.” Hunk doesn’t even have to think.

“Food goo,” you agree. “Though not Coran’s paladin special.”

“You don’t even eat that,” Hunk huffs, half outraged half amused, “you’re always like well I’m not a paladin so…”

You laugh. “Seeing it is more than enough.”

The rest of the ship’s inhabitants are already there waiting for you. Lance is trying to teach Coran how to play slide, moving very slow as he claps their hands together.

Shiro and Allura are in easy conversation. Her mice scamper around her feet.

Keith looks absolutely miserable next to Shiro, folding himself into the smallest possible size, trying to disappear. It was hard to reconcile the Keith that was quiet with the Red Paladin that shot first and asked questions later.

You smile at him, excited to see him, but also figuring he could use some reassurance, whatever it was going through his head. Keith meets your gaze and the corners of his mouth turn up, before he ducks away.

You know better than to take it personally.

It was Keith.

Your toes curl inside your shoes and you bite back your smile, suddenly aware of how much you might be revealing and not wanting Lance of all people to start a meeting by commenting on it. For him, it might be all fun and games, but you weren’t sure what to do with these newfound warm and fuzzy feelings. You sure as fuck didn’t want to be called out on it.

You weren’t sure what to do about liking Keith so your current plan of action was: nothing.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Shiro claps his hands together, his leader impression defaulted at awkward dad. He thought he always had to be on. Despite being the most trained out of us, he’d only just started his career during the Kerberos mission.

You wonder if he’d picked up his leadership style partly from Pidge’s dad.

“Where else would we be,” Pidge shrugs, never one to miss a shot.

“All the same,” the older man smiles.

“Yeah, no problem my dude, bro,” Lance flashes finger guns at Shiro.

You snort, taking a seat between him and Hunk.

“But seriously, what’s up,” Lance leans forward. “Or is this some lowkey way to keep us on our toes,” he winks at Allura who smiles indulgently.

“I await the news alongside you paladins,” Allura answers, hands resting in her lap. She looks over at Shiro.

The whole room turns to look at Shiro.

He had called the meeting.

Meetings tended to be informational in nature: updates about the expansive war, rebels hailing Voltron for intervention, the Blade passing on the rare bit of information, and the always popular distress signals. But Shiro and Allura both looked too calm for that.

Keith goes rigid, a spring wound up too tight.

Hm.

You wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed.

Shiro puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, smiling encouragingly the way a parent dropping their child off for their first day of school would, “go ahead Keith.”

The red paladin focuses his gaze on Shiro, his expression more sour than it’s been in a long time.

The past few years had done a lot to get him to open up to everyone on board, but right now, he looks exactly like the stubborn closed off cadet he had been back on Earth.

His ears twitch slightly. He manages to look even more taunt, and you wonder if he’s going to wave this off. Then, he lets out a breath.

His body is stiff, but Keith no longer pulls away from Shiro. He looks down at his hands pensively, nails cut to the quick. “Right.”

You can feel the nervous energy of the rest of the room, leaning in, waiting to see what Keith wants to say.

“Mhm, go on,” Lance says, chin in hand.

Hunk elbows him in the side.

“Hey!” Lance is about to start in on Hunk.

“Guys,” you snap, shoving Lance’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” Lance zips his mouth and throws away the key, “shutting up.”

“Looks like that didn’t work,” Pidge snarks.

“Paladins,” Allura’s clear commanding voice rings out. When everyone shuts up again, she nods at Keith, “you may continue.”

He looks up at everyone through his bangs, “I’m going through Galra settling.”

Hunk looks over at Allura, who was far more familiar with all this alien mumble jumble than anyone else.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

“And that is,” you prompt gently, before Keith hastily decided that was all he needed to say and left.

He meets your waiting gaze. Under the ship’s bright rooms, his eyes were obviously violet, heavy on the purple. He’s chewing his bottom lip like he isn’t sure he wants to go through with saying any of this and you wonder if he must be thinking of how weird things were between everyone when he learned of the alien part of his heritage.

Your mouth quirks up into a smile.

You were more than willing to stuff someone into a cryopod if they bothered Keith. He may be part of Voltron, tasked with defending the universe, but you’d make sure there was someone to defend him.

An embarrassing rush of heat bubbles under your skin. You look away, nervous.

“Shiro,” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, wrapping his arms fully around Keith’s shoulder. “Galra settling is when Galra,” he looked like he was trying to figure out exactly what he was talking about as he said it. Aliens were weird. “When Galra reach a certain age their appearance locks in.” Even Shiro looks a little puzzled. He was a pilot, not a biologist. You knew organisms back on earth who could manipulate their genotypes, generally sex changes with the right environmental conditions, but you weren’t sure there was anything comparable to whatever this was. “The Galra are apparently very adaptable in individuals. That’s why there’s such a range of them.”

Huh.

That explained the fur, range of tails, more reptilian looking once, and the eyes.

You wanted a Galra biology course, a full semester long one. What exactly caused such a plasticity in their phenotype? Did the trait have to be encoded in their genotype to appear or was there something freakier, Allura’s space magic, going on?

“-because he’s half human and we don’t go through anything like this it’s more painful than it would be. Lotor said the chameleonic abilities of Alteans helped him when he went through this,” Shiro finishes without a satisfying or thorough explanation.

At least Keith wasn’t dying.

Thank god.

Thank whatever freaky Altean magic existed in the universe.

“So,” Lance starts, “it’s Galra puberty.”

In a split second Keith loses any self consciousness about the situation, “it’s not Galra puberty!” His hair puffs up and you have to fight the urge to laugh, covering your face with your hands.

“There’s…” Shiro glances at Keith, before Lance and Keith could really get into it, “there’s more.”

Keith looks mullish, but ultimately gives Shiro the go ahead.

“Part of these..changes,” the black paladin explains, “have brought out some Galra instincts.” Clearly he was having as much trouble grappling with what this meant as Keith was. Your body suddenly deciding to change was no fun when you had no context for it. “Among them, the need to scent family…”

Pidge tilts her head, “is this like the most convoluted and emotionally constipated way of asking for a hug,” she asks Keith.

Keith smiles wryly, “pretty much.”

“Oh come here dude,” Hunk grins, engulfing Keith and Shiro in a hug.

“Ah number four,” Coran points up in the air, “I am now just recalling the galra that lived on Altea having explained this once, of course it didn’t occur to me because of the apparent dominance of your human genes.”

“So they’re actually co-dominant,” you muse as Lance drags Pidge along for a “group hug!”

“No.no,” Pidge makes a half-hearted effort to wiggle out, being a younger sibling herself, was used to being subjected to affection. She smiles even as she struggles.

“It would seem so,” Coran nods, “though not every gene.”

“Just these.” You wonder if there’s a space equivalent of the human genome project.

“Lance,” Keith yelps, “that’s my foot.”

“Buddy, I am not feeling the love here.”

“Is it working,” Hunk asks, peering at Keith, “are you going to turn purple now?”

“No one turns purple from hugs,” Keith replies, annoyed but makes no move to pull away.

“Thank you for trusting us with this Keith,” Allura smiles, her eyes crinkling.

“Get in on this too Princess,” Shiro motions over, before catching your gaze, “you too. Don’t think you can get out of this. You’re part of Voltron too.”

You snort, and join the group hug.

Pidge’s elbow is a bony thorn in your side and there’s the slight hum from Shiro’s prosthetic, but it’s a good mix of warmth and intimacy with the people you were closest to in the entire universe. Allura’s shoulder presses into you back and it’s sort of ballooned to ridiculous proportions, Keith somewhere in the center of it all, his hair barely visible to you.

“Add cuddling Keith to the chore wheel,” Pidge proposes.

Keith groans.

“How about we let Keith decide,” Shiro proposes.

You snort, knowing him too well. “Are you willing to take that risk? Died-from lack of hugs.”

Lance laughs.

Shiro looks convinced by your stellar argument.

“I’m not that bad,” Keith grumbles.

“You’re a terrible hugger,” Lance argues back. “You’re all stiff, like you’re enduring one of Iverson’s paradox sims. Not as bad as my abuelo but still.”

Keith lunges for Lance.

Someone topples over.

Everyone falls.

You laugh, smothered by limps and someone’s hair in your mouth…maybe Hunk’s? You don’t move, worried about kicking someone’s head.

From somewhere, Keith does that low rumbling chest noise that reminds you of a cat purring happily.

No one makes fun of him for it.

——————

“You should comb your hair before we take the pod down,” you tell Keith. You’d spent your free time before this alliance dinner scrolling through a datapad, trying to learn names, where they hailed from, species, things that may prove useful.

Half a varga ago, Keith had found you balled up on a sofa, and sat next to you, his way of asking for physical comfort. You’d obliged him readily, throwing an arm over his shoulders and spooning him as you both laid on the sofa. He was already in the paladin uniforms that Allura had dug out once the alliance became a reality instead of a loose string of rebel groups fighting the Galra empire.

You’re both short and slight, fitting together perfectly.

You squash any feelings you have, this wasn’t about you, it was about him. You’d done it a thousand times with Hunk or Lance, fallen asleep listening to Allura, why should Keith be any different? (You know why.)

He’s reading the screen with you.

“I doubt they’d notice,” he remarks as you scroll to a particularly vivid color alien race with sensory appendages sprouting from their heads.

“You have a point desert bum,” you tease, “I’d rather be a bum by a beach town. All surfer bro.”

“Can you even surf,” he asks flatly.

“No. Learned how to swim at the garrison,” you admit. “But tanning by the water has to be more appealing than roasting under the Texas sun.”

“I like the desert.”

“I know.” You were pretty sure everyone just liked their homes.

“It’s quiet,” he admits, “and watching how the sunlight transforms the landscape…”

“It’s too big and wide,” you admit, thinking of space. Flat land that went on forever…empty dark space that went on forever.

“Good for driving,” Keith smirks.

You laugh. Or course that’s where his mind went. “Sure, but it all looks the same, everywhere you turn.” It was disorienting. To be fair, you were a city girl. Your background noise was cars honking and people yelling even at four in the morning. The garrison had been a big adjustment.

“It’s really not. You just have to look.”

“I’ll trust my gps,” you counter, “not my sense of direction. I’d probably end up one of those cautionary tales about mirages and deserts.”

“You can’t really get a good signal,” Keith replies lazily, his body slack against yours, “out there. It’s best to mark a trail with chalk if you don’t know the area.”

“But you do, know it I mean?”

“Out past the Garrison? Mhm. All of it. We used to go hiking…before,” he trails off.

You press your lips to his hair lightly, before shifting, “my arms asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” You sit up, “it’s nice. I used to put my sister to sleep this one year she had nightmares almost every night.”

“You miss her,” Keith states, sitting up, looking at you with his intense expression. Having someone focused one hundred percent on you was a new experience. He wasn’t thinking of a thousand other things, just you.

“I do. I miss everyone, but,” you shrug, “I’ll see them again. Meanwhile you’re stuck with me.” You smile fondly at Keith. “I’m going to change before we have to go to dinner.”

“I’d take fighting Zarkon anyday,” Keith mutters, cringing at the upcoming show of diplomacy. There was so much smiling and hand shaking. It was exhausting to be that extroverted with a roomful of strangers.

Even Lance zonked out after these things.

“Knock on wood,” you laugh.

_____________

Treaties have been signed. A wrecked Galra fleet floats in space above the planet your on today, but today’s battle is won.

One of Lotor’s General’s is here, Acza. She’s wary, and surprised at the warm reception she’d received. She might be Galra, but she’d been crucial in taking down the Galra base’s shields. Biolocks, Zarkon should really rethink those.

You sip at your thick drink, warm and flavored like cinnamon oatmeal, that chases off the chill of the night. The idea had been to sleep, your hands still ached from all the sutures and stitches you’d woven, but Allura refused to hear it, dragging you along. There would be time for sleep on the Castle, she’d claimed, joyous to have helped another besieged planet.

“My congratulations,” a Blade utters from behind their glowing mask.

You jump, not having known there was even a Blade here. They were allies, yet their anonymity that made them so useful in information gathering, created a gap between you. You had no way of knowing who this person was. Their suit obscuring any details, the mask a rank.

You couldn’t even see their eyes.

“For what,” you ask, puzzled. You hadn’t fought. Your skills made you most useful after the battle, trying to save lives and patch up wounds. It was important and emotional draining work, but you hardly won battles.

Because of the mask, you can’t get a read on their reaction. Blades. Spies. Maybe if you could see their eyes…

They nod, and walk off without explanation.

You watch them go, still confused until they disappear among the bodies loitering around, celebrating liberation.

It was a feat to disappear when you were eight feet tall.

First the Galra had avoided you like the plague, the black plague, now they were being cryptic as fuck.

You lean your head down, trying to sniff your armpits without making it too obvious. Was it the blood? Or the space bleach? That tended to linger.

You didn’t smell that bad. Certainly like bleach and rubbing alcohol…

You take another sip of your drink, looking around for a place to sit. You’d been on your feet for too long. You wanted to sleep.

Someone would find you.

You wander around. Smiling when someone notices you, and thanks you and you hurry to get away before they ask you a hundred questions. There were only eight humans in space. Well, seven and a half. You stood out.

They wanted Voltron, but you would do.

“There’s space here,” Acxa calls out.

“Thanks,” you plop down next to her, sagging into the seat. Oh, yeah, you were so freaking tired.

“Of course. You look dead.”

“Yeah,” you look around the rebel camp, “I’ve no clue how they have the energy.”

“It’s like that everywhere. This is their home,” Acza offers, “people fight hard for their homes.”

You nod, before looking over at the alien woman, “not avoiding me anymore then?”

She shrugs, not disputing the allegation. “No need anymore, now that you and Keith sorted yourselves out.” She’s so blunt about it. “Galra are so sensitive when settling. We didn’t want to cause any incidents.”

“Is this about the scenting?” You still hadn’t had time to read through the information you’d gotten your grubby little hands on.

She nods.

You put your drink down on the mossy ground. “Yeah, Keith explained it. Well, Shiro did, really. Lance is over the moon about having an excuse to bother Keith.” Now you really all were a family. You’d named it outloud.

Acxa’s brows furrow, “Lance?”

“I think he just misses his family a lot,” you offer. “We all do and while we’re family too, it’d be nice to see our family back on earth too.”

She frowns. “Keith and you are not,” she asks slowly.

“Me and Keith,” you flush, ducking away from her. “No-I, no. We’re not.” You should’ve gone back to the Castle the moment Allura turned her back. She would’ve never known.

Acxa’s frown becomes tinged with anger and worry, her hand grabs your wrist. “Galra have more than one type of scenting, between families, and between partners.”

“Oh.”

You try to connect the dots but your brain gets stuck between ideas. Scenting. Keith. You. You and Keith. It was right there but-

“Keith isn’t marking you as family,” she explains slowly, “he’s marking you as his partner.” Acxa waits until her words sink in before adding, “to do so without letting the other know…” She makes it clear what a social taboo that is.

But you’re one step behind her.

Did Keith like you?

You think back to all the times you’d been with him in the past few vargas, trying to pinpoint any hint: he’d smiled at you but he was happier now in general so it could be a coincidence…

“If you need,” Acxa offers, “I will help clarify the situation.” It’s an awfully kind gesture.

“No,” you say in a rush. “no. It’s-I think I need to go talk to Keith.” He’d known what he was doing…you could draw a thousand conclusions but nothing would be better than confronting him about it.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stand up, glancing around. During parties, Keith tended to find a quiet corner out of the way. He’d opened up, but he was still more of an introvert.

You find Keith lying stretched out in the shadow of a makeshift building, looking up at the stars. It’s his eyes that give him away, reflecting the light enough to be inhuman, nocturnal vision.

“We need to talk,” you wrap your arms around your body. You weren’t angry, just confused. Didn’t he know he could just come talk to you about it by now?  

Keith looks up, startled, then stands. “Alright.” He sounds resigned, a man sentenced to detention for a month which was janitorial duties at the garrison. It kept even the most smartass cadets humble.

You look around.

No one was really here. You could hear the music and people a bit further into the heart of the camp. Here was good enough.

“I talked to Acxa,” you start, “she said-” you look down at the trampled vegetation underfoot. It was embarrassing to your human preconceptions to even think, let alone say, which was why you were pretty sure Keith didn’t mean any harm. Scenting meant nothing on earth, where he’d grown up. “She said you’ve been scenting me, which like I know but not that way?” You look up at him as realization sets in and he ducks his head, looking away. “Is it true?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I-,” he takes a deep breath before ranting, the agitation and months of buried emotions flooding out, “I hate this. I hate that I can hear the conversation outside and smell which direction  Shiro’s in and how much my eyes hurt on the Castle from how bright it is but I don’t-I can’t say anything because I’m already enough of a freak. Before I was just the weird kid but now I’m just a fucking alien freak! There’s always so much going on and I don’t even know what’s next!”

You wait, wondering if there was more.

It was a lot of changes.

You couldn’t understand, there was nothing in your life comparable to your biology deciding to be a little more Galra after twenty years.

“And I tried not to-,” he admits, meeting your waiting gaze, “I tried to leave everyone alone so you wouldn’t,” Keith swallows, forcing himself to continue with an obvious disgust at himself, “you wouldn’t smell like me or whatever Lotor explained but I couldn’t-it was driving me crazy like this itch, this buzzing under my skull and seeing you guys with others-I thought I was going crazy until Lotor explained. And then when Lance would ruffle my hair or you would check that I wasn’t about to fall over and die and-,” he waves his hands in the air, “I would just zone out.”

“Oh,” you utter, recalling past events with a newfound understanding. Keith had been reaching out, all instinct even when he was trying not to be a bother. It broke your heart, how he always came from the perspective that he was an inconvenience.

“I did know,” he says in a small voice. “That-you…but I don’t know if it’s me or this, or all these things happening to me.”

Your expression wobbles. You bite your lower lip, trying to get a handle on it. How silly to worry about a crush when Keith was going through it.

“I like you, but I don’t know if I like you or if it’s just these stupid Galra instincts messing with my head.” Keith deflates, drawing into himself. “Everything

s…it’s been a lot.”

“I get it,” you utter, “maybe not the situation but I’m not mad. Though Acxa was ready to kick your ass and she totally could,” you try teasing.

But Keith flinches, looking away guiltily.

“I’m joking. I-I get why. It makes sense. It’s a lot to get used to.” You swallow, not sure what to do about anything either.

“Its a huge offence,” Keith utters, “that’s why she was pissed. Made worse because you can’t even tell…I-I couldn’t think straight and I…it took the edge off.”

“Scenting me?”

He nods.

You take a step towards him.

“I-,” Keith’s eyes meet yours, his attention entirely captivated by you. It sends a thrill down your spine. You’d seen how he could be when laser focused: on piloting, on training. “I know they say it’s wrong but you and Lance do stuff like that all the time. And I thought…I figured I could figure out how much of what I’m feeling is me and how much of it are these new instincts.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him. “I-you’re right, it’s whatever to me. Like, a Blade congratulated me earlier which was weird but fuck them you know? I can ‘smile and nod’,” you smile as fakely as possible to show what you mean, “through it so long as you’re okay.” He’d bled in your lap.

Keith looks a little unsteady, unsure what to do with your lack of anger. “You don’t-”

“So is it like galra marriage then?” You were curious as to what exactly the Blades were going to gossip about you and Keith.

He makes a choked sound. “Sort of. They bond. It can be broken but that generally means someone killed the other.”

“Let me guess,” you reply, “Zarkon fucked even that up.”

Keith nods.

“That guy’s the worst.” Your voice is light.

Keith snorts, smiling for a split second. “I won’t anymore. I’ll-”

“Keith,” your voice cracks as you out your hand on his arm to keep him from rubbing off, “if its really causing you all this additional confusion in too of everything…you can…” the words were too intimate to say, too charged with a sensuality that he clearly was figuring out. You were willing to wait. For him.

He was conflicted enough without you dumping your feelings on him.

“You don’t-”

You raise your hand, caressing the side of his face with the back of your hand, ghosting over the purple mark on his cheek, “I don’t mind.” Sure, you had a crush on him, you could admit that much, but more simply, you loved him.

This was a small ask.

Your gaze flickers to the tips of his ears.

You had washed his blood off your hands.

“Besides, shit’s hard enough. My arm falling asleep is a small price to pay if I can help you.”

Keith’s mouth quirks up in a smile.

You laugh, “come here.”

It finally sinks in that you weren’t just talking bs. You meant it, as you hug Keith, wrapping your arms around his middle. He smelled good in spite of the battle he’d been through earlier.

Without really thinking, you breathe in the scent of him.

Keith hugs you back, cuddling you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You yawn. “want to sneak back into the castle?”

“Only if you tell Allura you’re the one who wanted to leave,” he deadpans dazedly.

You laugh.

——————

“Come,” Allura motions as you stand from one of the Castle’s weapons systems, “we must meet with the rebel leadership on planet.”

The planet was a farming camp.

The slaves were overworked and underfed and they had still revolted when they learned Voltron was near. Now, they were free.

“Princess,” Coran calls out, “it appears that number four is heading back to the ship.”

A pained expression crosses Allura’s broad features, her full mouth frowning, before she decides to pick her battles for the day. “I am sure Keith has a good reason for his actions.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.

You don’t want to go down there either.

This entire last week had been spent synthesizing medicine and treating thousands of people made harder by the range of species. The garrison better give you that medical degree immediately.

“I’ll go check on him,” you say automatically, “he might need me to prep a pod.”

“Fantastic idea number five,” Coran believes your excuse.

“Let us know if anything happens,” Allura says, giving you a long look, before heading for the exit.

The central Galra soldiers had been taken out, but small bands of fighters were still fighting to their last breath. It’s why Voltron has remained on the planet.

The lions had roamed the landscape answering calls for aid and hunting down the last of Zarkon’s forces here.

You meet Keith in the red lion’s hanger.

He’s popping his helmet off, running a hand through his flattened hair. “I thought you were headed out with Allura?”

You shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was, but I wanted to check on you first.” That was a normal thing to do for your friends. There was no reason to overthink things.

“I’m fine.”

He sets the helmet aside, working on undoing the armor off. There was dirt and dust but thankfully no blood to speak of, his or otherwise.

“Then I’ll see you there,” you ask.

Keith looks over, a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, his smile slight when he replies, “I’m not heading there.” Blunt. Concise.

“It is depressing,” you admit. There was so much resource allocation and need planet-wide.

He raises a brow. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Keith?” Now you’re wondering what the real problem was. “What is it?”

“Does it matter. I don’t need to be there. Shiro and Allura can handle it.” He looks away, suddenly very interested in the wall. Unlike the rest of the ship, the red lion’s hanger was dim, in a permanent night cycle.

Pidge’s work.

“I think the people would like all of Voltron present.” Then you make a face, “oh god, I sound just like Allura don’t I?”

Keith laughs, “just a bit. As long as you don’t make us all meditate…”

“It’s so boring. I fall asleep.” You smile softly, “Seriously, go down for a moment. Then you can hide out here.”

“I-I’d rather not.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Four out of five is is fine.”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” you agree.

“I’m sure they’ll be glad.”

“Keith-” you start, knowing he already felt hyper aware of how his appearance had changed. Before, it hadn’t really ever come up outside of the team. No one would tell and if Keith wasn’t vocal about it…now everyone in the entire universe probably knew.

There were rebel Galra, mostly in prisons and work camps. Feelings varied.

“That’s not true,” you say, not sure if it was true, “you helped free them.” You shift your weight onto your other foot, “there’s a few assholes everywhere.”

He gives you a long look. “The Galra enslaved all these people.”

“Pfft,” you wave off, “you look like one sixteenth Galra. And-”

“They stare.”

“Because you’re a paladin,” you reason. “Pidge is also cranky about the attention.”

Keith sighs.

The paladin armor lies in a discarded pile.

You step forward to him, “anyone would be lucky to have you as a pilot. And Voltron sort of lucked out when the red lion chose you.”

Keith’s eyes widen as he looks at you, pink dusting his cheeks.

In for a penny, in for a pound, you lean forward and kiss his cheek, ghosting over his skin, “face marks and all.” You can’t meet his gaze when you pull away, blushing fiercely.

Why did you do that!

God, you were so dumb-

He cups your cheeks and brushes his lips over yours.

Oh! Oh.

“Is-is this okay-,” Keith starts asking.

You feel giddy, smiling before kissing him. Yeah, it was okay.

[ur-fav-alien]

Kiss It Better

Orange Cassidy/Danhausen Just something short and sweet for the soul <3

They ended up losing the match, but Orange wasn't optimistic about their chances of winning, anyway. It was unlikely that the tag team officially made just a week ago would win the tag-team championship, so Orange didn’t get his hopes up. Yeah, they had worked together before, but only once as a tag-team. Surprisingly, being in a tag-team is much different from being in a relationship. 

Danhausen had gotten his hopes up, as usual. He had cried tears of joy when they won the Casino match, and Orange didn’t have the heart to tell him it was unlikely they were going to win at Revolution. So, he trained with Danhausen all week, listened intently as the demon made up strategy after strategy, and was there for him throughout his delusions of winning. Danhausen truly believed that they would be the ones to take that title home. 

And the worst part about Danhausen was that when he loses, he loses hard. He takes it to the heart, and it brings down all of his self-confidence. Orange shouldn’t really be babying his boyfriend, but it hurt his heart when Danhausen got sad. Because of this, he had specifically told The Acclaimed they couldn’t let Danhausen lose. 

But, of course, the universe didn’t seem to be in their favor that night. Now, Cassidy had to cheer up a pouting Danhausen, which was like trying to freeze Hell. It was rare that Orange was able to successfully pull Danhausen out of his little self-pitying episodes.

Chuck, Trent, and Kris had gone to get them food and some more ice for Danhausen’s shoulder, so the two of them were alone in their locker room, finally. 

“Y’know,” Cassidy went over to where Danhausen was sitting on the couch, placing his hands under the demon’s jaw to look into his eyes, “I think you did great.” 

The pout on Danhausen’s face made him look like a sad puppy. “Even though Danhausen cost us the titles?” 

“You did nothing wrong, okay?” Cassidy raked his hand through the demon’s hair. “Jay cheated, and Colten held me back from getting to you. You were awesome.” 

“Danhausen does not feel awesome.” He moved his iced shoulder ever so lightly. 

Orange hissed softly at the demon’s wincing face, pressing gently down on the ice pack wrapped around his shoulder. “They definitely did a number on you, but you’ll be fine.” 

“Danhausen would feel better if Orange Cassidy kissed it better.” Danhausen looked down and Orange smiled softly. 

“You sure you’re not just trying to get me to kiss you?” He caressed Danhausen’s face, making him look back at his face. . 

“What?” the demon asked dramatically, eyes wide all innocent like as Orange sat down on his lap. “No. Danhausen’s wounds heal when Cassidy kisses them.” 

Cassidy hummed. “Okay, but only if this will help you.” This was a routine they did. Danhausen would get hurt, and Orange Cassidy would kiss the pain away. They would pretend that his kisses actually healed Danhausen when, in reality, the demon just healed fast due to him being part demon. 

He slowly lifted Danhausen’s injured arm and started pressing soft, gentle kisses onto the man’s sweaty skin. The demon’s giggles did not fall on deaf ears as Cassidy’s lips turned into a smile as every kiss got further and further up Danhausen’s arm. Sadly, Orange couldn’t kiss the bruising shoulder itself, so he kissed around it, placing even softer kisses around where the ice pack was trying to numb the pain. 

Orange was going to kill the Assboys and those idiots who called themselves ‘Triple J’. He was going to murder them for hurting his Danhausen. 

You could call it strange how protective Orange was of his boyfriend, but he just couldn’t help it. Cassidy couldn’t help being protective of the demon when everyone in AEW looked down on him, when they thought less of him because he wasn’t as serious as they were. If Orange had to kick everyone’s ass every week just to prove them wrong about Danhausen, he would. 

He does. 

Cassidy’s lips trailed up Danhausen’s neck where the demon’s giggles poured out of his mouth, curling up at the small and excited pecks of Cassidy’s love. Orange held Danhausen’s face as their lips finally connected, both of them ruining the kiss by the smiles on their faces. 

“Do you know how amazing you are?” Orange asked, using his thumb to caress Danhausen’s cheek. 

“Orange Cassidy won’t let Danhausen forget.” 

“Good.” He pressed another sweet kiss to Danhausen’s lips.

[fandomvariousness]

you wouldn't want me to pt. 2

pt. 1 -> x

pairing: eren jaeger x reader

warnings: blood, mentions of death, cheating, smut: dub-con, mild masochism, dacryphilia, choking, creampie, size kink, overstimulation

request: "pleaseee a part two to "you wouldn't want me to" with the smut"

word count: 2.9k

a/n: ayo i'm team armin but boyeee sometimes it feels nice to digress ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“We’ll stop here for the night.” you heard Eren command someone, and the carriage stopped.

They covered your eyes and tied your hands behind your backs, so even while you sat huddled next to Armin you couldn’t wrap your hands around him, and neither could he.

You heard steps come into the carriage, followed by a set of rough hands that led you off. Judging by the grass under your feet, you figured the whole caravan stopped at one of the cottages for the night. Once the grass turned into the parquet of the cottage, an alarm rang in your head, realizing that whoever’s leading you isn’t stopping.

“Wait,” you breathed out quietly, all your anger being replaced by panic. “Armin?”

“Y/N!” you heard his voice somewhere behind you.

Judging by the commotion and the wave of swears and slurs, everyone was being stuffed into solitary rooms.

“Stop, stop!” you yelled, your anger coming back, feet stubbornly pushing against the ground. “Armin!” you yelled again, roughly jerking your frame in hopes of getting away.

“No Armin,” your captor whispered in your ear. “just me.”

Your face sank at the realization that it’s him. Even though your heart fluttered, just for a second, making you hate yourself for it, the odium seeped into your blood the very instant you heard his voice.

"You, little –" you didn't get to finish your slur as he pushed you into the room, shutting the door locked behind him.

You stumbled on your feet, the moment of misbalance bringing you down to the hard ground with a dull thud.

You were so angry that you still tried to squirm out of your bindings, just so that you could have a chance to strangle him with your own hands. You felt him approaching as you huffed and panted angrily in your efforts, feeling the eye band and rope binding your wrists come off.

You squinted from the sudden painful contact with the lamplight, rubbing your sore wrists.

“I could really kill you right now,” you spoke with a trembling voice. “I fucking hate you, Eren.”

The anger was manifesting in a form of hot tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks any moment; you hated the way you’d cry once infuriated.

You hated it, but Eren fucking loved it. He took a discreet deep breath to quench the feeling that arose upon seeing your glassy eyes, the sight going straight to his dick. He loved seeing you so conflicted with your feelings, especially when he's the culprit.

"Always wanted to hear you say that," he said with a smug smile that you wanted to wipe off with a slap so bad.

And so that’s what you did. You huffed in anger and closing the space between the two of you with a couple of steps, sent a dry slap across his cheek.

His eyes shut closed as his head turned to the side, a shiver running through his body, orange pre-shifting sparks flying around his head like a halo.

“Do that again and see what happens.” Eren liked what you did to him, but he wanted to frighten you into thinking he would shift.

You gulped, trying to hide your rising panic, as you let your burning palm hang limply beside you.

“What,” you breathed out, carefully calculating your next words. “you’re going to shift and kill everyone inside, even your beloved minions?”

He barely reacted, except for his eyes running over your body, making you realize just how close you two are standing to each other.

“Not before I have something I want.”

You exhaled curtly as you looked down, trying to escape the hazy feeling that was gradually clouding over your mind.

“Eren, unlock the –” he interrupted you by gripping your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look into his bottle-green eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it would feel like.”

You felt your face heating as you failed to control your emotions. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smiled smugly again just before he claimed your lips with his, sucking your soul out. His hand rested dangerously low on your hip, teasing you with the possibility of gripping it tighter at any moment.

“Stop,” you muttered in between the kisses. “Eren, stop!” you shoved him away, all flustered, turning around and steeping towards the window to gaze at the night sky that was just starting to appear.

You panted heavily as the realization of what just happened was sinking into you.

“How can you do this to Armin?” you asked, trying to refrain your trembling voice from breaking completely. “To me?”

He chuckled quietly, revealing his stance just behind you. “I’m going to die soon anyway.”

You hated when they did that. You hated when either Eren or Armin spoke about the fact that they only have a few years left to live. In fact, you hated it so much you forbade them to even speak about it. Even if Eren is not exactly in your good graces right now, you still hated it.

You unclenched your burning fists in an attempt to compose yourself.

“You may disappear, but your actions won't," you said as you turned around to face him.

"I don't care about that," he said nonchalantly. "Hell, Armin's going to go shortly after I do, so you shouldn't even think about the consequences – we will both be dead."

You bit your lip so hard upon hearing the mention of Armin’s impending death you may have drawn blood. You snapped again as you sent your palm flying across his face, but this time he immediately turned his face back and crushed his lips on your bloody ones.

You whined at the tingling of the tiny wound where you bit your lip, droplets of blood staining Eren’s own lips. His palms squeezed your buttocks, bringing your centers together; you gasped as you felt his semi-hard tent against you.

You withdrew from him like a whimpering mess, pushing your dainty palms at his chest to refrain him from connecting your lips again. You turned around in panic and saw your blurry reflection in the window, both of your lips stained with the crimson of your blood.

You yelped briefly as you felt his hands on your hips again, his heavy breathing tickling your skin when he leaned his face towards the crook of your swan-like neck.

“Just this once,” he breathed out, giving a brief slip to his own desperation. “and then I’ll go. I’ll leave you all alone.”

You trembled as you struggled to make a decision: your body already made one, relishing at the feeling of his front against your back, of his stealthy, barely traceable grinding against your frame, but your mind tried so hard to resist.

His hands were roaming all over your body, quite literally driving you insane: the way his palm ran up and down your thigh, the other appreciating the curve of your waist before sneaking its way under your white uniform shirt – it made you moan quietly, realizing that your mind had already lost.

“Did you really never wonder how it would feel like with me?” he whispered smokily.

Of course, you did. You never missed the way his thumb would stroke over your skin whenever he would get the chance to place his hand on your shoulder, you never missed the feeling you got when his eyes would linger on you for a bit too long – all of it burned into your mind.

You were somewhere else entirely as your eyes fluttered closed, head leaning back against his frame; his hand came to cup your breast, gently massaging it, melting your whole stance into a puddle.

As you failed to answer, having lost yourself in a sensual mass of his touches, you felt his hand grip the base of your neck. “Did you?”

Your eyes shot open as the force of his grip grew stronger, making you grasp his hand for some sort of leverage.

“Huh?” he repeated.

"I did." You confessed.

You didn’t see it, but you knew Eren grinned widely against your neck just before he pecked it. “Of course you did.”

His hand retreated from your neck as he gripped your hips, pressing you against the window-sill. “Did you sometimes think about me when you were doing it with Armin?”

You felt tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you realized this was too much to admit.

“Eren,” you shook your head in protest.

Eren loved seeing you squirm, he loved torturing you like that, and he wasn’t going to stop. He snuck his hand to cup your burning center, making you cry out and shiver at the needed contact.

“I bet you almost cried out my name accidentally a couple of times, didn’t you? Just like you did now?”

You sobbed quietly, but Eren brushed his tongue against your ear, turning it into a broken moan mid-way. “Say it again, say my name.”

You didn’t realize how your hips rolled against Eren’s hand massaging your warm, slick center; he controlled you as a puppeteer controls his puppet, and you knew it all too well.

“Eren,” you moaned genuinely.

“Shit,” Eren spat out as your mewling went directly to his painfully hard dick.

You choked at the sensation of his fingers sneaking under your panties, coming through your slick folds and finding the little pearlet of pleasure.

“Yes, yes,” you whimpered as he returned the other hand to your breast.

Eren was losing control rapidly, but he wanted to toy with you just a bit more – he probably wouldn’t get another chance.

“Want me to fill you up?” he knew that it was immensely hard for you to admit that you actually want him, and so he purposely pushed you down this guilt trip.

Your eyebrows knitted together out of inner turmoil, but you nodded. “Yes, I do, Eren, please –”

You were an absolute whimpering mess, struggling to weave a proper sentence together, voice broken and trembling – you just wanted him to fill you and ease the sexual tension that would always follow you two.

He chuckled against your cheek as he worked his way with your pants, pushing them down below your ass, cool air hitting your skin and sending a wave of shivers. “To think you were so reluctant before.”

Oh, you still were, in a sense. You knew guilt is going to consume you after, but you cannot control yourself anymore. It’s just the effect that Eren has on people, on you.

You leaned your palms against the edge of the window-sill, anticipating the breach, shallow breaths leaving patches of mist on the glass that would disappear in a moment.

“Ah,” you yelped cutely and rested your heated forehead against the cool glass as you felt Eren’s tip against your slick entrance.

His hand weaved itself around your neck in protest and leaned you back closer to him, bending your spine into a beautiful arch. He ran his other hand up and down your stretched stomach as he eased himself into you, coaxing out a series of broken moans from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you yelped in a high-pitched voice, holding on to that window-sill for dear life.

“So tight, so tight,” Eren whispered to himself, lost in his own bliss as his head hung low on your shoulder.

You yelped in pain as he was approaching your cervix. “W-Wait, ah, it’s too—too—”

“It’s what, baby?” his fingers dug into your hips, bringing you down on his dick a bit further. “What?”

"Too—ah, fuck—too big!" you cried.

You were ashamed of yourself that you enjoyed his dick tearing you apart that much, but you couldn't lie to yourself in this state, not anymore; it's like you're a whole other person.

Eren’s dick twitched inside you at your word. “Bigger than Armin’s, yeah?”

You nodded curtly, doing anything to ease away the dull ache and the guilt that was tickling somewhere at the back of your head. “Yeah,”

He ran his tongue along the vertical curve of your neck, starting to move steadily.

You kept your mouth open as you were even struggling to breathe, Eren's presence consuming the whole of you. You bent your hand backward and ran your fingers through the back of his head, loosening the bun he’s weaved his hair into.

“Faster,” you commanded, catching Eren by surprise. “Please, Eren,”

The sound of you begging for him drove him feral. He wanted to fuck your brains out, but he knew he won’t have another chance to relish in you like that – slowly, sensually, lovingly.

“Patience, baby,” he said to you and to himself at the same time. “Mm, you feel so good.”

The room was rapidly filled with both of your moans as Eren pounded into you rhythmically. His hand snuck to rest on your lower stomach, feeling his own tip stretching your insides.

“Wanted to have you for so long," Eren let his thoughts slip up; he enjoyed destroying you like this, but he failed to consider his own weaknesses coming to the surface. "Could never get you out of my head."

His own confessions were like a catalyst to your approaching release, which was threateningly close now.

“Ah, Eren, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming,”

You screamed so loud he had to cover your mouth with his palm – he wouldn’t want others to condemn you for doing this for the reasons they don’t even understand. Eren himself was close, so close – but there was one more thing he wanted to do.

“Feel good? Yeah?” Eren questioned, containing his own release with all his will, still pounding into you. “Give me another, baby.” His hand reached down to your oversensitive clit.

“Wait, Eren, I just came, I—” you choked, tears welling up in your eyes from overstimulation; yet it felt so good.

“Shh, you can take it,” he cajoled.

It didn’t take long for him to give you another orgasm, not at all – all it took was a few circular strokes with the right amount of pressure, and you came clenching around his dick again, this time covering your mouth with your own palms. Eren buried his head in your disheveled hair as he groaned out in pleasure, bursting deep inside you.

“Fuck,” he blabbered, eyes closed, feeling your shivering, fragile frame falling apart in front of him. He tried not to think too much about the fact that he came inside you, the act contradicting his beliefs and plans.

His hands came snaking around your waist, pulling you closer gently, planting a few kisses on the top of your head. "You did so well."

You couldn’t say a word as you pulled your pants up before you turned around to face him, seeing him buttoning his own.

Something came onto you as you cupped his face and kissed him gently. Now that really did take Eren by surprise.

“What was that for?” he asked quietly after a moment of silence.

You shrugged. “Just felt like kissing you.”

He suppressed a smile as he leaned his palms against the window-sill, trapping you in between his hands, your noses almost brushing. “You won’t be too pissed with me now, will you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You said it yourself, you’ll die soon, so why do you care?”

"Clever", thought Eren as he continued exploring the pools of your glistening eyes. He withdrew slowly, towering over you as he took your chin between his thumb and index finger, just like he did before. He ran his thumb over a little patch of dried blood from when you bit your lip.

You almost gasped at the absence of his touch when he released you altogether, making his way to the door, unlocking it; you remained in your place, watching him closely, trying to stop him with nothing but your gaze.

He did stop, even though only momentarily. He had already opened the door as he turned his head back to take you in – face still heated, chest rising up and down, hair tousled, gaze… longing?

Something tingled deep inside his chest at the thought that he could’ve had you as his own if the circumstances were different, much different. If only he wasn’t so heavily burdened and consumed by eternal hatred.

He snapped out of his momentary ominous trance.

“Sleep well, Y/N.” he closed the door without another word, locking you from the outside.

Once he was gone, you allowed yourself to exhale properly. You gulped, making your way to the bathroom. You turned on the tap and plugged the bath, letting yourself sob loudly as you remove your clothes.

You didn't want to wash his touches from your skin, but at the same time, you had to – how are you going to face Armin afterward?

Yet the guilt mainly came from the absence of it – no matter how sure and scared you were that it's going to consume you afterward, it didn't.

You don’t want to lose neither Armin nor Eren, and you’re going to do everything in your power to hold on to them both for as long as you can, for as long as they walk the same soil as you.

[itsallyscorner]

Oooh, Tom x reader request idea

Reader colored her hair or is wearing a wig just for fun and paparazzi pictures are taken from the back when they’re together so it looks like Tom’s cheating on reader and even reader gets freaked out at first but they have a laugh about it in the end

Thank you for the request darling! I’m so sorry it took so long for me to do. While celebrating the holidays then going back to school, I’ve been busy😭 But thank you again, and enjoy!💞

💌.

Ginny

If you’re a redhead I’m sorry😭 I couldn’t think of any other characters and this came to mind.

The harsh light peaking in from behind the curtains made you groan. You threw the comforter over your head and blocked the sun from your eyes. Tom shifted beside you, tightening his arm around your bare waist and pulling you closer into his chest. He emitted a light “humph” and snuggled into the back of your neck. The slight ache in your head made you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ease the pain. You kept your eyes closed till the ache subsided, trying to remember a single thing that happened last night.

Honestly, the whole night was a complete blur. All you remembered was that Tom, Harrison, and Harry had persuaded you into joining them at the local pub near your shared place for a quiz night. At first you didn’t want to go; you loved the lads but when it came to a game or something that tested their wits, they were intolerably competitive. Game nights with them usually ended with: Harry crying in frustration, Tom on the verge of committing murder, Harrison turning furiously red in anger, and Tuwaine yelling at someone for screwing up the game. Game nights were just a mess.

You were hoping for a quiet night alone at the house, but no such luck, Tuwaine had plans with his girlfriend. Which meant all three men came to you to fill up his spot.

“Please (y/n), we need four people in our group to go.” Harry begged, resting his head on your shoulder and looking up at you with puppy eyes. Tom stood in front of you, using his body to block the tv, and diverting your attention to him.

“Guys, why can’t it just be the three of you?” You questioned the men surrounding you.

“Because the pub said it has to be in groups of four and we believe you’ll be a perfect addition to our team.” Harrison answered from your left side. A cheeky grin on his face.

Tom could tell by your features that you still weren’t convinced on going. He uncrossed his arms and kneeled in front of you on the couch. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your waist, putting his weight on your lap and placing his chin on your chest.

Looking up at you with his soft brown eyes he said, “Please come with us, I promise it’ll be fun. You won’t regret it, darling.”

Your lips pursed together in thought while your eyes panned between the three of them, “You guys know how you all get during game nights.”

Tom huffed, his breath causing strands of your hair to move from your face.

“I know—we all know. But we promise to be on our best behavior. Plus, we’ll be on the same team, no competition.” Your boyfriend reassured you, his thumbs drawing circles onto your hips.

Harry snorted, “Yeah, besides the other five to seven teams we’re up against.”

“Oh, we’re winning. We got these two on the team.” Harrison bragged motioning to you and Tom.

“I didn’t agree yet.” You objected, holding your finger up.

“Yet.” Tom repeated, emphasizing the word.

Harrison nudged your shoulder, “Come on, (y/n)! We’ll have a great time. We might even win a free happy hour if we win the quiz.”

Harry shimmied beside you, “And what do we say about free drinks in this house?”

You rolled your eyes, defeated, “Never turn down a free drink.” The boys cheered around you, hyping you up.

“Come on, baby.” Tom encouraged you, hopeful eyes remaining on yours. You sigh, throwing your head back against the couch.

“Fine, I’ll go.” A round of cheers filled the room once again. Harrison and Harry squeezed you into a hug, sandwiching you in between them. When they pullled away, Tom gathered you into his arms and lifted you up.

“YES! I LOVE YOU!” He squealed happily, repeating that he loved you and pressing multiple kisses all over your face.

Well you guys must’ve won the pub quiz last night because the last thing you can clearly remember was entering the pub and the first two rounds of the quiz. The topic of last night’s quiz was Harry Potter; both being huge fans of the series, you and Tom completely breezed through the quiz, getting most of the questions (that you can remember) correct.

A buzz came from your phone, followed by another buzz, and another. The sudden movement of your phone made you peak your head from under the covers. Squinting from the light, you blindly reached for your phone and brought it under the comforter with you. When your eyes were fully adjusted to your screen you saw there were two texts from your cousin.

Tf is this?

Sent Photo ⃞

Your brows knitted together at the message. Curiously, you slide on the notification and open iMessages. The picture downloads and you see that it’s Tom, wearing glasses, black pants, and a grey knit sweater. Although on his arm, latched a redhead wearing similar attire as him but with a tight skirt instead of pants. There were a few more pictures attached. Some where Tom wrapped his hand around the mystery person’s waist and another with him kissing her face.

Your heart’s pace quickened as you glanced at the man cuddled beside you. Your eyes shift back to the phone; that definitely wasn’t you. But at the same time, you had no recollection of anything that happened after drinks were handed out. You stared at the pictures again, an expression on your face that resembled something along the lines of a scowl and a look of confusion. You really didn’t know what happened last night. You zoomed into the pictures, trying to get a proper look at the woman’s face, but to no avail, her face was either not in the shot or Tom was in the way.

You force yourself up into a sitting position and harshly smack Tom’s arm. He immediately startles awake; jumping into his senses making the bed shake. His arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. He looks around the room for some kind of threat but saw nothing. He did another scan around the room before looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Were you the one who slapped me?” He groggily asked, ducking into your side when the sun’s light connected with his eyes.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe ask that redhead you were hanging out with outside of the pub.” You retorted, still glaring at your phone. The tone of your voice causes Tom to whip his head from your side. A quizzical look is on his face as he thought back to the previous night. Surprisingly, he didn’t get as drunk last night. For once, he was one of the sober ones. You, on the other hand, were another story. Though he didn’t blame you for going on a drinking spree, work had been stressing you out and you barely got any leisure time.

“Huh—baby, what are you on about?” His voice is deep and rough from sleep. Sexy, but right now his voice was the least of your worries.

“What redhead? The only redhead that was there was—“ He couldn’t finish his sentence because you were shoving your phone in his face.

“This one?” Tom whines and leaned his head back to get a better look. When he saw the picture on your phone, his eyes slowly panned to you. Your arms were crossed and a scowl was on your pretty face. You were pretty even when you were angry.

“Did the drinks really fuck you up that much?” He wondered out loud, a hint of amusement in his words. He took your phone and began swiping through the pictures with a grin on his face.

You felt the blood in your body boil while your boyfriend looked through the pictures of that woman with a stupid smile on his face. You snatched the phone from him, “Well maybe, because who the fuck is this chick?”

“Are you jealous?” He teased you, poking your side. You slapped his finger away and glared at him.

“Oh I don’t know, a woman I barely know is hanging on my boyfriend’s arm! I’m not jealous—I’m just—a concerned girlfriend who wants to know what the hell happened last night.” You crossed your arms again, proud of the excuse you made up. Though, you really did want to know what happened last night.

“Darling, that’s literally you.” Tom pointed out, finally bursting out laughing. The scowl was wiped off your face and replaced with a look of confusion. Tom rested his head back on his pillow and watched you look through the pictures again. Your brows were scrunched together and a pout was on your lips, tempting him to press a kiss onto them. His arms slithered around your waist again, pulling you down so you were laying down against him.

“(Y/n), I’m serious that’s you. Do you really not remember?” Tom adjusted himself to place your head on his chest. Your lips were pursed together, eyes still trained on your phone screen.

“But my ass does not look that good from the back.” You muttered, zooming in on said area. Tom snorted and pinched your ass cheek, “You’d be surprised, lovey.”

It was quiet between you two while you continued to study the pictures. Tom said it was you, but it really didn’t look like you from behind.

“Remember it was Harry Potter night? Harry thought it would be a fun idea to dress up as the characters, so we ended up going as Harry and Ginny.” He reminded you, softly brushing tangles out of your hair with his fingers. Your mouth went slack as realization set in.

“Oh my God, yes!” You exclaimed leaning up on your elbows to look up at him. There was a hint of humor in his eyes and a lazy grin was set on his lips.

“How could I forget that I was wearing a wig? Where is that damn thing?” You leaned over Tom’s body and began to look over the bed to get a glimpse of the floor. Tom chuckled motioning to your makeup desk in his room. You find the desk and, lo and behold, was the red almost orange wig in all its glory. You shook your head at yourself and at the slow moment you were going through.

You turn back to Tom, “Honestly, what the fuck?” The two of you bursted out laughing, the sounds of your joy filling the room.

“I feel so stupid.” You groaned, shoving your face into Tom’s chest. He let out a giggle, thinking over what just happened in his head again. His large palm smooths circles onto your back, slowly making you doze off again.

“Don’t be, you were drunk as hell last night. I didn’t expect you to be in the right state of mind so early in the morning.” He reassured you, pressing feather light kisses along your head.

You hummed, getting lazy to respond.

“I’m sorry for getting too drunk.”

Tom shook his head, “No, you deserve to have a few shots and a generous amount of pints. I know work’s been hectic and then we all dragged you out on your free night; it’s the least we can do, seeing as we disturbed your down time.”

You shrugged, “I actually enjoyed going—well from what I can remember. I had a really good time.” You move your head to look at him, “Please tell me I didn’t do anything ridiculous.”

A smile was instantly on Tom’s face, “My favorite was when Harry kept on bringing you drinks and you started to believe that he was a house elf. So you started calling him Dobby.”

“Is that all?” You asked before drifting off to sleep. A faint smile on your lips.

Tom snickered, “You tried to offer him your sock.”

Tags: tags with a line crossed through it do not work!

Tom Holland Taglist ↴

@lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @cuddlykoala101

General Taglist ↴

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[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi Hi!!!! So I've been following your account for a little while now and I love every single comedy bomb you drop on what you write so I was wondering....

How would the boys react to their S/O who is usually reserved when at the lair, doing a full 180 when at April's? Like they could be April's roommate or something?....

Like crackhead energy, dishing out memes and vines and literally having a duel with Casey about leftovers in the fridge?... Yeah I know it's very specific 💀

I don't know.....the idea just popped into my head but I lack the creativity and comedy skills for that...so I was wondering if you could do something with this?.....

It's totally fine, if not 😁😁

This is... 100% me. I love this and I'm gonna pour my soul into it. Also I have started mentally referring to these as comedy bombs and I refuse to stop.

Also, I hope you don't mind that I wrote these in oneshot form instead of bullet points. It just made more sense for my brain.

TMNT Oneshots

The boys with a partner whose reserved at the lair but an absolute crack gremlin at home 🤣

Donatello

Donnie may have been a man of science, all logic and facts and numbers and things. But he absolutely believed that everyone had three separate faces, you were direct proof of that theory. While the purple terrapin had known you for nearly a year you’d only started dating a month ago and it shocked him that he was still uncovering new things about you. He loved it, sure, but it had a tendency to give him figurative whiplash.

He’d always known you to be calm and collected, maybe even a bit shy. He swore you’d explode if more than one person tried to talk to you at the same time. So it wasn’t an over exaggeration for him to say that your behavior at home nearly made him break his neck.

He was only there to help April fix a bug in her laptop and to confirm your next date, he was excited to see you since you’d had no contact in person for a week because of your schedules. Just lots of phone calls and exchanged text messages. You both missed each other like crazy and your roommate had neglected to inform you that your boyfriend was coming over.

Hers was already there and he was driving you up the wall, you’d never actually thought about committing a murder but Casey was pushing you very close to the edge of snapping. And he might as well have crane-kicked you off your cliff of patience and into the rushing river of “you little fucking shit I’m gonna piss on your grave” below. You hadn’t even heard Donnie come in through the window much less his conversation with April over her computer.

All you knew was that Casey had come parading into your room like a tyrant eating the leftovers in the fridge that you had specifically put your name on. That did it. Your eyes had skimmed over the top of your textbook to meet the asshole in front of you.

“Casey?”

He couldn’t speak through the mouthful he was trying to chew and grunted in pathetic response.

“Is that my cheeseburger?”

You’d never seen a living person imitate a pug’s facial structure so well, the man’s eyes bugged out of his head and he tossed the takeout box on your desk before turning and bolting out of your room. You followed about two steps behind with a bottle of shampoo in your hand. No, you weren’t entirely sure where you’d grabbed it from, all you knew was that it was your weapon. And it quickly became a very messy problem when it missed your target (Casey’s head) and slammed into the wall, exploding on impact.

You didn’t think you’d thrown it that hard.

“April April help help help helpppppppppppppp-'' The two on the couch had looked up during the chase throughout the apartment, Donnie was mostly curious at what Casey was screaming about. Not a lot usually made the guy make that noise. He was then distracted by April grabbing the laptop and passing it to him, she then clambered over his legs to sit behind him.

“YOU UGLY ASS CROISSANT! FUCKING PANINI HEAD- IT HAD MY NAME ON IT YOU DAFT AVACADO!”

Your boyfriend almost went vertical upon watching you tackle Casey to the floor and knee him in the groin. You shook the terrified man under you and slammed him a little harder into the rug.

“Touch my shit again and I’m gonna make the beaches of Normandy look like a goddamn family vacation.”

Then you climbed off of him and stood, brushing your disheveled t-shirt off with a huff. Donnie caught your attention and you raised your head to grin excitedly at him.

“Hi Dove! April didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you practically skipped over to the couch to peck him on the cheek, “I missed ya, are we still on for Saturday?”

He nodded in complete shock, his gaze flitting from you to Casey, who was still wheezing on the floor and clutching his dick.

“Uhhh yeah! Yeah, yep, Still good for Saturday. Uhm, completely unrelated question, where the hell did you learn to grapple like that?”

You shrugged absentmindedly, already walking to the hall closet to grab cleaning supplies for the puddle of shampoo in the walkway.

“Just kinda picked it up I guess? I’ve watched you guys train enough.”

Leonardo

See, Leo had always known that you were hiding something from him. Be it your true personality or some deep dark secret. He wasn’t really in a rush to find out, you’d tell him when you were ready. The leader enjoyed your quiet disposition anyways, you gave good advice and liked to meditate with him, what more could he ask for? What more could he want?

Well, maybe if you got along better with his family, although he supposed that wasn’t your fault, you always had been a bit shy. Even six months into your relationship with him, Leo only hoped that you’d warm up to his brothers eventually. You seemed to do alright with Splinter, that was a plus for the situation. It wasn’t that you were mean or impolite to the others, you were just… avoidant. Distant, quiet, whatever word you wanted to use. You just didn’t seem comfortable at the lair.

He was excited that April had asked to host a game night though, maybe you’d come out of your shell (haha, see what I did there?) and socialize, even for a little bit. They’d all shown up a few minutes early to make sure April didn’t need help with anything, she’d assured them that everything was handled and made sure to inform Leo that you would be back shortly with Casey from your snack run. Mikey had joked that you’d ditched the get together to avoid them but they all knew it ran the possibility of not being a joke.

You unlocked the door and held it open so Casey could get inside without tripping himself before entering yourself and kicking your shoes off. Leo looked up to meet your eyes and you sent him a wild grin, your entire face lit up with amusement.

“Hi babes! Are you ready to get your ass kicked at Monopoly?”

All the poor turtle could do was nod.

“Good. I did grab drinks by the way, April there should be a mixer in the cooler bag, Donnie there’s some of that lemon lime stuff that you said you wanted to try, Mikey, orange crush as usual, Raph I tried to go for Dr. Pepper but they were out so I figured that root beer was a safe second. And Leo they had a new boba flavor that you haven’t had yet so I grabbed one. If you don’t like it then you can have mine, I just have the peach royal.”

Beverages were tossed and they were lucky that their surprise didn’t throw off their catching skills. You and April shared a quick word in the kitchen as you took your coat off and ran a hand through your hair.

After some arguments team captains were decided and Donnie nearly had a heart attack when you picked him instead of Leo or either of your friends. He even went so far as to point at himself to make sure you weren’t joking. You declared that while you loved your boyfriend his morals were too strong to be competitive, Donnie’s were not, he said so himself.

They were all surprised that you’d remembered that conversation.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game that things started getting heated, you and Mikey were nearly jumping across the table at each other. And it visibly took all of your strength to not burst out laughing when he started yelling.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS CHEATING! YOU'RE CHEATING! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE!"

April and Casey were snorting into their arms as you got to your feet and walked towards the kitchen, making a poor attempt at climbing the appliance.

"THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!"

Raphael

Raph had always been under the impression that you were never really 100% yourself around him, he knew for a fact that you weren’t when you stayed over. He’d never seen someone so aggressively avoid someone, except himself of course. You were his partner of almost a year and it seemed like you were never going to let your true self shine. However you did seem to lighten up when you were alone with him, he supposed that was normal, but you may as well have been a pair of old earbuds that only work when you held them a certain way at the lair.

He honestly hadn’t expected that to change tonight, not given the text that Casey had sent him informing him of April’s recent breakup with whatever guy she’d been dating. So when he climbed in through the window and saw both you and Casey sitting on the floor in front of the bathroom he really didn’t think that the words out of your mouth would be-

“April you’ve got another twenty minutes of this then I’m ripping the door off the hinges!”

Casey shot you a look and you shrugged nonchalantly before getting to your feet and walking over to your confused boyfriend.

“Hey, sorry about this. Casey only texted you as a last resort if he needed someone to stop me from tearing the door off.”

Raph found that peculiar, “Uh, couldn’t he do it himself?”

The man in question looked up from his spot on the floor.

“Nah dude, they’re crazy. Last time I tried stopping them from doing something they nearly knocked my damn tooth out while screaming, and I quote, “If you put your hands on me I’m gonna fucking rip your face off” and quite frankly I don’t have the balls to test that.”

“No no dude, that’s valid. I wouldn’t either. Babe, why are you so-”

You raised an eyebrow at him over a glass of water, “Violent? I’m not Raph. These two just have little bitch feelings.”

He found it hard not to laugh at that and fifteen minutes later when you left his side to approach the door again it sent him reeling.

“This shit’s temporary April. You’ve got nice teeth and a fat ass, stuff your feelings down!”

Michelangelo

There would never be a time where Mikey wasn’t a prankster with you, it was just simply non-negotiable. You were cool with that and he was aware, he was also aware that no pranks were to be pulled at the lair. So he’d reign it in while you visited, just for a short while. But you’d never said anything about the apartment and Mikey was a creature of opportunity.

Unfortunately Leo talked him out of it and forced him not to pull anything while they visited. The leader was already on edge so when he walked in with the others following closely behind you were the first person to see him. Your eyes caught Mikey’s instantly and you might as well have been telepathic at that moment. But you took one look at Leo’s solid, angry face and seized your moment.

They weren’t at all ready for the scream.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ DOG BITCH!”

And they also weren’t ready for Mikey’s response of, “It don’t bite.”

And Leo was not ready for the pillow that got whipped at his face at incredibly high speed.

“YES IT DO-”

So when Leo finally realized that they were yelling at him his mood did not improve at all and in fact declined sharply into a pit of “oh fuck”. And that was how you ended up on Mikey’s shoulder getting dragged away from any sort of repercussion for your actions.

These got a little short near the end but I hope you like 'em and I hope I was able to capture what you had in mind! 😁

-Mars 🌠

[nicka-nell]

HQHQ Collab - First Choice

Pairing: Atsumu x reader, mention of Bokuto

Words: 6.822

Warning: mention of unnamed cheating ex-boyfriend, angst if you squint really hard, fluff, friends to lovers

Beta-reader: thank you for beta reading the fic @xmyshya

Summary: You’ve been living with your best friend for a few weeks, crying to him about your ex-boyfriend cheating on you. But Atsumu no longer wants to see you sad and offers himself as Wingman once more when he tries to set you up with his teammate.

This story is part of our HQHQ server collab with the prompt: When will I be someone’s first choice? Tell me, when? You can find the other stories here. So check out all the other wonderful writers.

“Y/n now go on and get up!” Atsumu’s loud voice wakes you up. With swollen eyes you turn to him, your hair still ruffled, left and right of you lie the crumpled handkerchiefs with which you have cried yourself quietly and secretly into sleep.

You’re tired, your head hurts, and Atsumu’s loud babbling doesn’t help your headache to settle. Reluctantly you pull your blanket over your head, but in vain. Because even before you can get used to the darkness and the warmth underneath, to the calm without the voice of the dyed blond-haired man, he pulls the coat off your body with a jerk and confronts you with the cold morning air, through the open window in your room.

“Tsumu, you idiot, give me the blanket back!” You whine, but he doesn’t even think about it. “Why does your bed look like a mess again? It’s been two months, and you’re still crying after this asshole? It’s enough with moping around.” Before he can finish his sentence, you can feel his hands curling around your ankles and how your legs were jerking forward, setting your entire body in motion.

“Tsumu what are you doing?” You scream and try to hold on to the upper edge of the bed. For a few seconds you manage to resist his tug, but you soon realize that he is stronger than you.

But Atsumu has apparently forgotten to calculate that you would let go and pulls you off the bed with so much momentum that you both land on the floor.

“Ah, Tsumu you airhead! Now my ass and feet are hurting. Why did you do this?” You want to know while you’re rubbing your butt, which you landed on a few seconds ago. Sulking, you look over to your best friend, who is also sitting on the floor, supporting his weight on hands behind his back.

“Sorry, I forgot how weak you are.” He teases you with a grin. “But you seem to be awake now, eh?”

“Yeah, awake and angry…” You quickly add to his statement and look at him with a wrinkled forehead. “Don’t look so evil. That wannabe look doesn’t suit you. I told you before, if you want to talk, I’m just a room away. No need to cry yourself to sleep.”

Even if he annoyed you earlier, you realize in his words that he’s worried about you. It’s been two months since you saw your boyfriend… No Ex-boyfriend with another girl. Just “saw them” is wrong. He had kissed her, touched her, and you were sure that if you hadn’t confronted them directly, more would have happened.

Atsumu was there for you, caught you with open arms and told you that everything would be fine. Because that’s how he always was. Back then, when the kids at school had teased you, when the girls had blasphemed you because you had always gotten along better with the boys. He was also the one who comforted you at your first lovesickness.

Ironically, you had a crush on his brother, who at the time had no thought of such trifles as love. The first time you were really in love with someone, it was Atsumu who tried to set you up with that person. Because it was none other than his volleyball teammate Suna who had twisted your head.

The fake blonde had really tried everything to make you as interesting as possible for Suna, had always invited you and Suna to ‘learn’ and then left the room for hours to leave you alone. But in the end, it didn’t work out because Suna told you he had feelings for another girl.

When your heart broke into thousands of pieces for the first time, it was Atsumu who had carefully tried to pick up all the shards and cautiously glue them back to the right place. He was always there for you. And even though you know what your heart wants, you shut yourself away from it. Because Atsumu is your best friend. The man who will always stand behind you to give you a push forward so you can finally find your happiness. Without him.

“That’s enough sulking! What do you say you come to practice with me today? Get to know my teammates and friends? Maybe there’s someone in there who piques your interest, eh?” He grins mischievously and wiggles his eyebrows before he straightens up and stretches his hand forward to help you up.

“Mhm… You’re not gonna leave me alone before I say yes anyway, are you?” You mumble as he pulls your body upward.

He still grins as he nods and lets go of your hand just to bring it to your hair. “But before that… you go take a shower and make sure that this nest on your head becomes the normal beautiful hair you actually have. All right?” He laughs as he pulls a scrap of a handkerchief out of your hair.

Oh God, how embarrassing you think and at the same moment you have to laugh. No matter what you look like, even if you are wrinkled, with greasy hair, mustard stains on your top and swollen eyes, Atsumu still likes you. After all, he sees you as a buddy.

“Well, I guess… I’m gonna get ready. Can you make breakfast, Tsumu?”

“Are you nuts? There is no more time for breakfast. I can heat the last slice of pizza from last night’s movie.”

“Oh, you’ll be such a good husband someday, Tsumu.” You answer him sarcastically as you shake your head and pass Atsumu.

“Sure, and you eventually become a good wife Y/n.” He calls after you, but you already lift your middle finger and slam the door behind you with a smile on your face. “Tze… Tsumu you idiot.”

The knife slices the butter with ease as Atsumu greases the butter on a toasted slice of bread to put your favorite cold cuts on top. Because he was just joking. Your first meal shouldn’t be a piece of old pizza.

When you’re with Atsumu, you forget all the things that made you sad. You’re happy and glad to have such a good friend by your side. And even though you said it sarcastically earlier, you still meant it like this, that he would make a woman very happy. Just with the thought of him and another woman, you feel a short sting in your chest, but you are sure that deep down you have to think about your ex-boyfriend and that you still miss him.

“Ready to go! Give me that slice of pizza or I’ll eat your friends.” You shout out to Atsumu as you enter the hallway through the doorstep. Once in there, you can hear his muffled voice calling out to you while his voice comes closer and closer.

It is only a second where Atsumu stops in the doorway, looks at you before he continues his walk and pushes the slice of bread and an apple into your hand. “I can’t let you smell like tuna and garlic the first time you met my friends.”

With rolling eyes you take the bread from him, push it into your mouth before putting on your thin cardigan and place the apple in your jacket pocket. According to your phone, the weather today is anything but cool and gray.

But just as you want to pull your zipper up, you feel something heavy landing on your shoulders, looking confused from left to right before your gaze sweeps up from the yellow fabric on your shoulders to the fake blond-haired man.

You don’t need words, your gaze is filled with the question of why he gave you his jacket. But again he just lay down his arms against his hips, grins casually. “Well, you’re with me or not? Not that they’ll think you’re a paparazzo at the gym entrance and not let you in.”

With the words ‘you’re with me,’ your heart gives a beat. “Don’t you think your friends will think we’re together, Tsumu? That this is more such a friend-girlfriend thing?”

The entire car ride is quiet, but it’s not an unpleasant silence. Only the radio rattles quietly, while Atsumu complains about the careless drivers or cyclists, and that there is never a parking space in front of the gym.

“Ah, don’t talk such nonsense. You can tell we’re just friends, you dummy.” Another bang, no stab, making your chest heavier. “Sure… right.” You just mumble quietly. So quietly that Atsumu cannot understand it as you breathe in the fine fragrance of his harsh deodorizer as you walk past him and leave the flat.

You have to admit you’re a little nervous standing outside the hall with Atsumu. You can hear voices from inside. Probably his friends. As if Atsumu understood your feelings, he puts his arm over your shoulder to give you more security, and enters the room freshener smelling hall with you.

It doesn’t take long for all eyes to be on you until the first person beckons Atsumu and the next one goes on you. A boy with orange hair that you remember very well. Atsumu’s school team had a game against him. They lost and Atsumu was talking to you for weeks about how he wanted to play with this little boy sometime.

Behind him stands a dark-haired man, hands in the pockets of his jacket, while he lingers in place, watching you only from a distance. That should be Sakusa. The guy Atsumu always talks about, how clean and special he is when it comes to hygiene.

Just when you want to turn to Hinata again, as he is still waving towards you, another man runs towards you at an incredible speed, shaking your hand vigorously with sparkling eyes. Your whole body is shaking, you’re getting headaches, but somehow you find his overactive anticipation cute.

“Hey, hey, hey! I‘m Bokuto Koutarou! I’m a super ace and I’m really successful!” He grins proudly, which makes you giggle. Of course he is. After all, he plays in the same team as Atsumu.

Yet Bokuto does not remain long in his proud posture. His shoulders collapse after a few seconds, while his gaze wanders to Atsumu. “Hey, Tsum-Tsum, why didn’t you tell me you were coming with your girlfriend today?” He wants to know from the fake blonde one.

Irritated, you look over to Bokuto, wanting to clear up the misunderstanding as the voice of an older man interrupts you. “Miya, the next time you bring someone, please report this to me first. Now, warm up and let’s start training.” The man you consider to be the coach says to Atsumu, who nods in agreement before pointing at a bench where you should sit, before he goes to warm up with Bokuto and Hinata.

Although you talk little to people, you’re not bored watching them train. It pleases you to see how everyone is with full passion. From time to time the man who introduced you as Bokuto grins at you, waving a little awkwardly before Atsumu admonishes him and turns his attention away from you. He’s kind of cute.

“Oh Tsumu…” you mumble quietly while chuckling unconsciously as you watch Atsumu reprimand Bokuto for being so easily distracted, and how Bokuto lets his shoulders drop apologetically.

“You seem to have had a lot of fun today, eh?” The question is rhetorical, because of course you did. He recognized that in your face. With the rest of yesterday’s pizza and a salad with smoked tofu, he sits down next to you at the dinner table.

The training passes, and your attention on Bokuto grows. First a few glimpses you exchange, then words and sentences, up to such long dialogues that he completely forgets his break and is called back to the playing field by Atsumu to finally finish the training.

“You could have introduced me to your friends earlier. Especially Bokuto. He’s kind of cuddly.” You babble while you are in your thoughts about the cheerful man.

“So, so… Bokuto, huh? Looks like I got a new job as a wingman, eh? Give me a few days to figure something out. Operation Lovebirds begins.” His eyes are narrow and playful, while his face is only a few inches away from yours.

As Atsumu had said, a few days pass. Days in which you were always at his training, always with the yellow jacket which makes you feel much safer and more comfortable. Days when you often talk to Bokuto during breaks.

Your heart gives a quick blow as the warmth of his breath hits your lips. From the excitement? Excitement to see Bokuto again soon, right? With an unnaturally bright laugh, you slap him on the shoulder, turn to the pizza, before you both go to your own rooms and get ready for bed.

Atsumu has the idea to take Bokuto to Osamu’s store, like he’s doing almost every Saturday to eat together. Sometimes the other teammates come with him, but this time he will only ask Bokuto.

He wants to lure him to the store and write to him shortly before, so that he has no time. You would sit already in the store and then pretend after a few minutes as if you had randomly noticed Bokuto. You could eat, talk and maybe even exchange your numbers. The idea was perfect.

As agreed, you sit at a table near the kitchen, looking at the menu while watching Bokuto from the corner of your eye. How he reaches for his cell phone and how his cheerful look is slowly getting sad, because he probably reads the message from Atsumu that he will not come.

You consider going straight to him, but your vibrating phone prevents you from it. A message from Atsumu with the words ‘Mission lovebirds can begin’. An unconscious grin spreads across your face as you read the message before a voice makes you shrink.

“Has someone also dumped you?” You hear Bokuto’s sad voice and make a brief shout when you see him standing right next to you. “Bokuto!”

You laugh a lot, seem to have a lot of fun and get along great. At least that’s what Atsumu can see from his brother’s kitchen. Because of course he didn’t want to miss out on seeing if you two really come along well with each other.

“Ah! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you! Uh… mind if I sit here?” He asks clumsily, pointing to the free chair opposite of you. Nodding, you invite him to sit down before quickly putting your phone in a pocket and start talking to Bokuto.

“Why are you here, Tsumu?” His brother’s voice makes him look away from you.

“Eh? What do you mean, Samu? I want to see if I’m successful with my mission.”

“Sure, stop lying to yourself.” Osamu quietly talks to his twin while he continues to prepare the Onigiri for his guests. But his brother doesn’t answer him, just looks out of the round kitchen window at the table where you talk to Bokuto with a smile on your face.

“You know I didn’t reject Y/n back then because I had no interest in girls. So finally get some balls in your pants.” With a full plate of Onigiri, Osamu crosses his twin, passes the plate to his server at the counter, before he enters the kitchen without a word.

“If she’s happy, I’m happy for her too. Why don’t you understand, Samu?” He now turns his gaze away from you, instead looking at the unfinished rice that Osamu had prepared for the next order. It annoys him that his brother has to address this topic again and again. It’s not up to Atsumu to decide what you want. After all, it’s up to you.

“So? So you don’t mind if I invite her on a date if it doesn’t work out with Bokuto? As long as she’s happy, it shouldn’t be a problem for me to taste her lips.” He deliberately tries to provoke his brother, and for a split second he sees Atsumu twitching his eyes, his cheekbones sticking out from his clenched teeth before looking his brother in the eye.

“If that’s what makes her happy. Then make her happy, damn it, understand?”

“What the hell, what’s wrong with you, Tsumu!” His brother yells at him, furiously stomping to him and grabbing him by his collar. He expected such an answer, but not this flat, indifferent response, which is supposed to hide Atsumu’s feelings.

Atsumu also grabs his twin by the collar, pushes him away from himself and continues the scramble. Again and again he tries to explain to him it is not Osamu’s problem and he should not interfere in his things and anew Osamu tries to convince him to finally listen to his feelings. Plates fall over, knives that lay on the work surface as the voice of the server stops the two men.

“Eh… I’m sorry, but at table four, the lady was asking what was in the spring drink because of her allergies.” Both let off from each other while Atsumu’s steps carry him quickly back to the round window to look at your table. Because he’s irritated that you’re asking that question.

The fake blond man hardly notices the voices of the two men in the kitchen. His heart suddenly beats restlessly. A young girl your age sat next to you and Bokuto. Atsumu’s plan to set you up with Bokuto seems to be failing.

“Nobody ditched me, Bokuto. Actually, I just wanted to drop by and leave Osamu a nice greeting when it becomes a bit quieter here. But it always seems to be full here.” You lie because you wouldn’t even have come here without this plan from Atsumu.

He feels bad that a small part of him hopes Bokuto finds the other girl interesting, but Atsumu quickly talks himself up that he just wants you to be happy.

With a quick beating heart you hope that Bokuto does not see through your lie, but when he smiles at you, you are sure that he believes you.

“Oh sure, right! If you know one Miya brother, you automatically have the other on your back, don’t you? Especially when you’re so close.” He grins, and his words remind you of the incident in the gym. There, Bokuto said something similar. He wrongly portrayed you as girlfriend and friend, which was certainly due to Atsumu’s jacket. And just as you were about to correct him there, their trainer babbled something into the room.

You definitely need to clarify that you two are just friends, otherwise you can’t ask Bokuto for his number. Just friends…

“Uh Bokuto? I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Tsumu and I-”

“Y/n? Oh my God, is that you?”

Again, someone interrupts you. This time not Atsumu’s coach or Atsumu, but a person you haven’t seen for ages. Your old school friend, who was with you at the same club and with whom you really got along well.

Because of your ex-boyfriend, your paths somehow separated, but you’re thrilled to see her now. “Oh Mei, is it you? You’ve really changed, wow.” You smile at her before you greet her and sit down again.

“I don’t want to bother you guys, and I’m sure that’s rude, but is it okay if I join you? If I annoy you, I’ll leave!”

Mostly you’re just here to get a date with Bokuto, but sending her away now would be too suspicious. For a moment you think about how to best handle this situation, but Bokuto takes the decision off you by inviting her to join you and just stay as long as she wants.

You talk partly to Mei, partly to Bokuto for a while when you check if Atsumu has written anything to you. You’re surprised he hasn’t asked you how the date goes. Is he on a date right now himself?

“Y/n? Did you hear?” Mei’s voice gets you out of your mind again, before you look at her absent-minded. “I have to go now, but… I was really happy to see you again and I hope we can repeat that soon. And I was also pleased to meet you Bokuto.” She adds, before she smiles at you both and goes to the counter to pay her bill and leave the bar.

Just when Bokuto wants to say something, his phone rings and he apologizes to you for a moment. You take the opportunity to write to Atsumu, ask him if you should take some Onigiri with you from his brother’s shop and hope for a hint if he had a date. Because if he doesn’t want some Onigiri, he sure is having dinner with another woman.

Two minutes go by, four… Ten minutes until Bokuto comes back in, and you feel your phone vibrating at the same moment. A simple “No, I’ve already eaten.” is his answer. An answer that suddenly makes you feel so weird.

“I’m so sorry I kept you waiting. Akaashi, my best friend, called me. I have to see him. Is it okay if we postpone our meeting for another time? So… I mean this random meeting.” He smiles embarrassed, and scratches the back of his head as he puts his jacket around his shoulders and shoves the chair back to the table.

“Oh hm? Sure. I would be happy to meet you again Bokuto!” You answer him enthusiastically, even if you’re still on Atsumu’s date in your mind. Did he really go out with a girl? Why do you not know her? Why didn’t he tell you?

“Perfect! So, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow?”

“Sure, I’ll be there.”

“Then let’s talk about some meetings during my break. I’ll go to Samu and pay the bill for us.”

“Wa-!” You want to stop him, pay your own bill but Bokuto already stamps away from you and knocks on the kitchen door to lure Osamu out and pay.

He doesn’t know how fast he ran to be home before you. Good thing he didn’t tell you about the shortcut, or you’d have run into each other. Fully sweaty, he jumps into the shower, trying to get the smell of Osamu’s kitchen out of his hair as he hears your voice dull from the hallway in the bathroom.

Together you leave the restaurant, but then go your separate ways. Although this is not the first time you walk this path, even though you don’t need twenty minutes on the way, it seems like an eternity to you. Absorbed in your thoughts, you kick a round stone along the sidewalk, burying your hands in your trouser pockets while watching it roll. The long gray road matching gray walls on the sidewalk, no car to see. Everything is dreary and you feel odd, but also happy at the same time. After all, Bokuto seems as interested in you as you are in him. You can quickly overlook the fact that Atsumu is probably on his own date right now.

“Tsumu? Are you home airhead?”

Hissing, he shakes his head, rubs his towel through his wet hair, ties it around his hip and glances into the mirror before he goes out.

“Tsumu! Put some damn clothes on!”

“I’m also pleased to see you. Got my clothes in the bedroom. Don’t worry, I’ll put something on. But first, how was your date?” The question was unnecessary. Of course he knew, because he was there, watching you. But you don’t know that.

Atsumu studies how you dance on your tiptoes, how you swing your body forward and backward, and tap your lower lip. You always do that when you’re nervous. But before he can even give another thought to you, your body moves forward in his direction.

Just a few seconds pass when your soft skin lies on his, your arms wrap around his neck and you hug him. Atsumu stops as if petrified. Because his heart beats fast, your body so close to his triggers so much in him.

Carefully, he pushes you away from his chest, hoping you didn’t hear his raging heart. Yet, your arms remain on his neck, your warmth on him, although this on his chest slowly fades.

Lovingly you look at him, a look that gives him an unknown sting. An expression that you would probably turn to a big brother, otherwise he cannot interpret it. But he cannot look away from your warm eyes. Those bright, happy eyes that captivate him.

“The date was really great and tomorrow at the training we want to make a new one! Bokuto is such an incredibly great guy, and he is so funny. He made me laugh so many times and it’s sweet how emotional he always is and ah! He is really fine. Thank you for introducing him to me.”

Silently you look each other in the eyes, speak with your eyes instead of words. Subconsciously, your fingers move, gently stroking his neck up and down, while your sugar-sweet laugh makes Atsumu even crazier.

His body acts on its own as it bends forward, coming to a halt just in front of your face. But his mind quickly catches up with his body, for his words wander down your cheek to your ears as he whispers to you quietly that he is happy for you.

“So mission complete, eh?” With a mischievous grin, he tries to distract you from his previous action, patting on your shoulders with his hands before he walks past you and strolls towards his room door.

“I’m gonna put some clothes on. You should take a shower and get some sleep. You stink and need your beauty sleep for Bokuto tomorrow.”

“Haha, very funny! I love you too, you idiot.”

Days go by when you talk to Bokuto a lot. At training, to the detriment of everyone else, eating ice cream after training or just sitting around in the park and doing nothing. You get along well, laugh a lot, talk a lot about his buddies - Akaashi and Atsumu. After your dates you always tell Atsumu how much fun you had and are sure that you deafen his ears with your Bokuto-talk.

Words that come so easily out of your lips, for they are meant amicably. Words that are so easy to understand, but leave a bitter heavy feeling in his heart.

Today you both sit on a wall in the park again, fooling around like good friends. For a moment your shoulders brush against each other, when Bokuto twitches and stares embarrassed down at you. You too feel your body getting more restless, out of balance as you look into his golden yellow eyes. Both of you are silent, always opening your mouth to say something, but then close it again.

“So, eh… Do you… remember our first random meeting? In Osamu’s store?” Bumpy, he tries to find the right words, starts playing with the moss growing between the grooves of the stone wall.

Your chest suddenly stops moving. Out of panic you hold your breath because you are afraid that he has found out that Atsumu is behind this coupling action.

“I was wondering if… Well, there was your school friend there, and I was wondering if maybe you could… could give me her number?”

“Her number?” You realize how anger slowly boils in you, how an unpleasant feeling rages in your body and you suddenly feel so uncomfortable and stupid. With a bitter hiss you laugh up, turn your face away from Bokuto so that he cannot see your sparkling eyes. Eyes that don’t sparkle with joy, no. Eyes that sparkle with tingling tears and leave small wet spots, like those of rain, on the stone wall below you.

Of course he wanted her number, of course he did. After all, it was always like this. Whether it was Osamu or Suna, your ex boyfriend or any other man you found cute or attractive. You were always the second choice. You were always good as a friend, but not good enough as a girlfriend. There was always another who came before you, who had taken the place that you had so longingly aspired to. It was always like this.

So why did you think things should be different with Bokuto right now? Did you really think there was a man who had only you in his mind? A man who adores you as much as you do him?

“Why all the dates Bokuto? Why did you invite me to all those dates, get my hopes up if you only wanted my friend’s number, anyway? Why...? Never mind, forget it!” You sniff and jump off the wall to get out of here as soon as possible. Only Bokuto remains, sitting on the wall in confusion, trying to understand your last words.

With his cell phone in his hand, Atsumu scrolls through your messages, through your enthusiastic and joyful words about Bokuto while lying on the couch, the free hand behind his head. On the table is the last bit of a spinach-garlic pizza he ordered shortly after you went on your date with Bokuto. His thumb stops at a note in which you jokingly wrote to him that you also love him when he teased you with your crush on Bokuto. Words that hurt more every day, the longer you stay at Atsumu’s flat.

“Get your hopes up? H- Hey, Y/n wait!” He calls you, but your silhouette gets smaller and smaller. You’re not thinking of turning in his direction again.

His gaze is focused on his cell phone, the thumb still on that one message as a new message covers it. Irritated, he looks at the name of his teammate, who sends him one message after the other. Although he hasn’t read the messages yet, he has a bad feeling. He doesn’t know if it’s worry or something else, but he must think of you directly as he opens the messages with shaky fingers and straightens up on the sofa.

>> Tsumu-Tsumu! Get on your phone! I think I screwed up! I thought Y/n is your girlfriend and today something weird happened, and! I screwed up, man. Tell her I- <<

Atsumu is still reading Bokuto’s incoming messages, can hardly keep up with them when the loud banging of the front door makes him startled. As if he has just been caught in something forbidden, he throws his cell phone in panic behind the couch and looks in the direction of the living room door in which you suddenly stand.

Your eyes are red, nose runny, and your words come to him only as a loud sob. In him everything hurts at this sight of you.

“Tsumu!” You sniff and want to make a step forward to your best friend, but Atsumu is faster. He takes you in his arms as you press your head against his warm chest. His fingertips glide slowly through your hair, calming you while his grip around your waist becomes firmer.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” His words that softly kiss your ears calm you down. He knows exactly that there is no point in questioning you now, because you are still too busy collecting yourself again. So he just keeps silent, caresses your head and listens to you as your sniffing gets less and less, your fast, hasty breathing gets calmer and calmer.

“You want to tell me what happened?” His muscular arm loosens easily from your waist, his hand stroking you, now raises your head and makes you look at him. With a loving smile, he wipes away your tears, puts his arms on your shoulders and waits for your answer.

Hard you breathe out, try to pull yourself together, but your voice remains shaky.

“Bokuto… He just wanted her number… He didn’t care about me.” You notice how your voice becomes unclear again, begins to tremble more and your sniffing is again to take over your voice. But Atsumu’s thumb, which caresses your shoulders, calms you down again and you try to spell your words back into clear sentences.

“He wasn’t interested in me. At least not so… Tsumu, it’s like that every time. Men always fall in love with other women. I’m always just the third wheel. Am I that ugly? Am I so unattractive that every man sees me as a buddy? Tsumu… When will I be someone’s first choice? Tell me, when?”

Your eyes glittering with tears, search for his eyes. His heart breaks with the sad look you give him. And although the answer to your question is on his lips, he would like to scream it out of himself, yet a big lump sticks to his neck and keeps him silent.

“Tsumu when?” Is the only thing that comes out of you broken, now that not even your best friend can give you an answer to that question.

It was probably his fault you’re so sad now. Because Bokuto didn’t mention that school friend of yours once. He probably only said that because he thought you were Atsumu’s girlfriend and he didn’t want to destroy the friendship of the two men.

It was Atsumu’s fault that when he introduced you to his team, he didn’t make it right that you weren’t his girlfriend. The fake blond had not done this on purpose. His words just didn’t want to come out of him back then. Only later he had understood why he had tried to make his friends believe that you are his girlfriend.

He’d have to answer his cell phone, read Bokuto’s messages to be one hundred percent sure he wasn’t serious about your school friend, but his body isn’t moving. Actually, he can’t move anyway, because you clenched your hands into fists and clutched them into his shirt.

Atsumu should set it right. But in him, Osamu’s voice pushes forward. The words Atsumu wanted to deny. ‘You’re in love with her… Stop lying to yourself… Finally, get some balls in your pants.’

Not even your best friend can answer your question. How could he if he met with others every time you were with Bokuto? But even though it hurts that Bokuto rejected you, it hurts more that Atsumu doesn’t give you an answer.

With a sad sigh, you push his hands off your shoulders and set your legs in motion to go to your bedroom and be alone. But you can’t take many steps, because Atsumu holds you to your wrist just to turn you back to him.

Slowly, without strength and without joy, you look up to him. In his face, which shows so many emotions at once, yet he tries to hide them all from you. You notice how he struggles with his words, not knowing how to begin. His grip on your arm gets tighter. It almost hurts, but you say nothing.

“You… You have always been… my first choice.” He says hesitantly, in such an uncertain tone which is unlikely for him. His words are so quiet that you don’t understand them, just look at him questioning.

“Y/n, you have always been and always will be my first choice. Shit, I know I’m gonna ruin our friendship with this, but I can’t do this anymore. I’m selfish, yes, I know. I didn’t correct the statement when Bokuto said that you were my girlfriend because I didn’t want to see you with someone else who would just hurt you again. Y/n I can’t see you sad anymore. I don’t want to see you like this anymore. It just doesn’t work anymore. Ever since you’ve began living here, swinging your sweet little ass around my apartment, eating with me, spending evenings, and almost all days, I can’t think of anything but seeing you as more than just a buddy. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? Shit, you airhead, I love you.”

His words become clearer and clearer, on the contrary to his expression. Then, as his tone becomes firmer, his gaze becomes more anxious. And now you understand. You always wanted the perfect boyfriend. Wanted to have a man by your side who loves you, who Atsumu gets along with since he is your best friend and had never noticed that he was always your second choice.

You always wanted someone who liked your friends, who understood you, and that person was always at your side. You knew why Bokuto’s words didn’t hurt you as much as Atsumu’s silence a few minutes earlier. You knew why you enjoyed wearing Atsumu’s jacket, and you knew why it didn’t bother you that Atsumu had not corrected the statement, and so the rumor arose that you two were a couple. Also you knew why you wanted to convince yourself that Atsumu met other women to not feel bad about going out with one of his friends. You knew, but you never wanted to face it. Because like Atsumu, you were afraid of losing the person you needed most.

You open your mouth soundlessly. If you say nothing now, you are sure that the man in front of you will immediately lose his temper with excitement and fear.

Although you have said the words many times, your heart is racing like crazy, your belly is tingling and your chest is almost painfully contracting. You’re nervous, nervous like when you had to introduce yourself to the big class full of people.

“I love you too, you idio-” Before you can finish your sentence, the warm lips of Atsumu, which lie gently on yours silence your last words. Full of pleasure you give a quiet whimper, trying to calm your loud throbbing heart in vain. Because your body burns, trembles, is numb and awake at the same time. Your thoughts are going crazy.

Atsumu also gives a relieved sigh, almost as if a huge load has fallen from his shoulders. His arms quickly wrap around your cheeks, stroking your face while his lips open a little and you feel his wet tongue on your mouth. You have the feeling that your body has just gotten warmer, reducing the last distance between you and giving off a gasp as you also open your mouth slightly to allow him to enter. His hand, which stroked your cheek earlier, seeks its way to the back of your head to bury itself in your hair and pull your head back a bit to kiss you better.

For a moment your tongues dance together, your bodies almost link as you interrupt your kiss and look into Atsumu’s excited face. His cheeks are reddish, lips slightly puffed up from your kiss, while his breath lands warm on your body.

“What’s the matter Y/n?” He whispers hoarsely, the expression slightly playful. But you just look at him with a slightly silly grin.

“Did you eat garlic, Tsumu?”

For a moment he looks at you, as if a fuse blew through him. He’s thinking about what you meant by that, before he starts sulking while stretching his head backwards, so that he’s looking at the ceiling.

“Ah shit, if I had known I’d tell you that I love you, that we would be kissing, I would have bitten into a rose and not into a pizza with extra garlic.”

Laughing, you put your head on his chest, looking up at him while he continues to stare at you sulking. “Is there still a slice, bunny?”

“One piece, but it’s already bitten, babe.” He grins and reminds you of all the nights you two sat on the sofa watching series and arguing about who gets the last piece of food. Once Atsumu had licked the last piece and thus reserved it for himself, sometimes you were faster. You were acting like toddlers, but you were having an incredible time. You just had fun with him, always.

“Your tongue was watching if all my teeth were still in my mouth a few seconds ago. Do you think it bothers me that the pizza piece is bitten?”

“Guess not. But give your sexy boyfriend a last stinky kiss. Okay?” He smirks and sharpens his lips playfully to tease you and brings his arms around your body so that you can’t escape. Only so you press his lips away from you, laughing until Atsumu finally gives you a fleeting kiss and you act as if you faint and lean against his chest.

Your loud laughter resounds through the room and your hands do not let go of the other until you are quiet and enjoy the moment in silence.

“I love you Y/n. You, my first choice.” He whispers to you as he gives you one last kiss on your crown.