part one
———
Lance has no idea how powerful he truly is.
Seriously. Completely oblivious. He’s convinced that he’s the only one on the team who’s not powerful — and Keith knows this because those are the words Lance said with his own mouth. He’s so convinced that power is Shiro’s strength, Pidge’s intelligence, Hunk’s wit and compassion, Allura’s regality, and Coran’s wisdom. He’s even completely sure that Keith has power in his speed and initiative.
Somehow, though, the heart of Voltron does not know how he holds everyone in the palm of his hand. He does not see the picture of terror he makes; jaw clenched, brown eyes flashing with determination, back straight and shoulders set, demonic spider at his side, telepathic mice gathered on his head, poisonous, sentient vine wrapped around him — and the spirts of two lions, red and blue, growling in tandem behind him as he swears that no harm will come to the beast by Voltron’s hand.
Lance did not see the fear in the dignitary’s face. He did not notice his team staring at him with wide eyes, leaning far away from him and his own army. He did not see the pure, concentrated power rippling from him in waves.
If Keith’s being totally, completely honest, it’s kind of hot.
But it’s also a pain in the ass. As much as Lance’s greatest strength is in convincing people to listen to him, when he sets stubborn eyes on a task, the Universe herself cannot sway him. Keith has a snowball’s chance in hell of managing either.
“Just try,” Shiro pleads. “Please. Attempt to convince him that, as much as it sucks, killing the damn beast is the easiest way to secure this alliance and move on.”
“Shiro, your braincells are spilling out your ears like loose marbles if you think that I can convince him to even listen to the words I will attempt to say.”
“Holy idiom, there, cowboy,” Pidge teases, and Keith breaks away from the intense stare-down with his brother to stick his tongue out and shoot her the finger.
“That’s a normal idiom. Sorry that you grew up in Michigan where the most interesting insult you ever hear is someone saying please with a little more passive aggression than usual.”
“…Alright. Point to Keith.”
“Mhm. That’s what I thought.”
“Paladins!” Allura snaps, ignoring Hunk’s smartass comment that she is also, actually, a paladin, and as such is included in such snappish remarks and thus has lost a good chunk of ethos. “Focus! Stars, it’s like I have to do everything around here. Keith. Put your big boy pants on.”
Shiro chokes with laughter, desperately trying to pretend it’s really a cough, but it fools no one.
God, those two need to stop hanging out together. Shiro is dragging Allura down to his level. Poor woman.
“Talk to Lance,” she continues. “He only really listens to you.”
Keith looks at her incredulously. “Listens to me — have I missed something? I asked Lance to lead a briefing yesterday and he asked me what deity died and made me king of the jungle. He doesn’t listen to a goddamn word I say.”
Allura raises an eyebrow. “Did he?”
“Did he what?”
“Lead the briefing yesterday?”
Keith deflates. Because, well. “Yeah,” he mutters.
“So you’re just being a pussy, then,” she summarizes – why does Pidge insist on teaching her modern slang and why does she like it so much – and this time Shiro doesn’t even pretend he’s coughing. Hunk and Pidge also lose their shit.
“I resent that,” Keith says haughtily, denying nothing.
“Yeah. Okay. Off you go. Convince him to at least attempt to hear us out.”
Keith sighs, but does as asked, making his way to his and Lance’s rooms. He decides to take a minute and gather his thoughts — see, he’s learning, look at how not-impulsive he’s being — and heads to his room first.
When he gets there, he spends a few meditating beside his bed — he’d rather stick a hot iron through his eye than admit it, but Shiro and Black may be a little, teensy, itty-bitty bit correct about taking time to gather up thoughts and reflect or whatever.
Just as he’s about to get up and knock on Lance’s door, he hears Coran’s heeled boots click down the hallway.
Oh, fuck yes. If Coran talks to Lance, he might actually listen without argument! Lance has no issue following Coran’s instructions!
…On the other hand, Coran’s just as much of a — and Keith says this with all the fondness in his heart, believe him, if he didn’t find it so damn endearing he would not be spending his nights imagining what will happen when he finally grows enough of a pair to ask Lance on a date — tree-hugger as Lance is. He won’t be happy about the beast killing either.
But, hey. Coran’s a wise guy. It’s probably fine.
Just in case, though, he gets up as quietly as he can — he knows Lance’s goddamn bat ears will hear him if his fucking heart beats too loudly — and leans against the door to hear their conversation.
“Lance, dear, I was just coming to find you,” Coran says.
So far, so good. If Coran was already trying to find Lance, it was probably to try and gently convince him that saving the beast might not be the best option, right?
Keith heart sinks a little as a new thought worms into his brain: maybe, Lance isn’t just being stubborn, and he’s actually upset. Maybe Coran is going to make sure Lance is feeling okay, like a good person.
…Yeah. That’s more likely. Keith kind of feels like a jackass.
He startles out of his thoughts as Coran’s voice, notably louder than before, speaks again.
“Well, if you’re really feeling so much better, would you mind helping me recalibrate the fabricator?”
“Absolutely,” Lance says, and he does sound remarkably happier than he did when he stomped out of the bridge.
Huh. Maybe Lance convinced himself…?
As he thinks it, he knows it’s not true. But it might not be best to bring it up now, then. He’s only just gotten into a good mood, it will probably be better to bring it up over dinner, or something, when the good mood has enough time to settle properly.
Keith nods to himself. Yeah. That’s totally not an excuse because he doesn’t want Lance to look at him in complete betrayal again when Keith attempts to convince him that saving the beast is not an option, or anything.
Right.
Totally.
———
part three
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God... WHY!? (NSFW)
Headcanons plus a short fic.
Warnings: NSFW content.. this is literally a scenario about Gojo being a goofball during the deed...
Anywho... enjoy...Hope you like dead memes and cringe... (I hate myself for writing this... This should be a war crime)
Generally Gojo enjoys bringing humor into the bedroom, he really loves seeing you laugh.
But sometimes... He can get so fucking annoying.
As you lay on your back, hands pinned down to the bed, Gojo on top of you, thrusting into you in just the right way to make you scream...
A song you know all too well comes on... He's played it during sex so often. After that damned reddit r/AITA post he will not stop.
You've begged him to delete it from your Spotify playlist, but he never did.
Nasty little shit likes to see you go from whining about wanting him deeper to whining wanting him to stop acting like an idiot
Ofc.. He likes calling you really stupid pet names as well.. in and out of the bedroom..
And you better believe he thrusts with the rhythm of the song playing.. not the beat... Like a psychopath.
"Satoru....." you whine. A smirk appears on his lips as he continues the eratic thrust pattern.
"Hmmm? what is it munchkin?" He says with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You roll your eyes
"Please... for fuck sake turn that shit off... and wait... 'Munchkin' did you just call me 'Munchkin'?" You resist the urge to push him off of you and onto the floor
"Aww does my little boo thang not like what I call them?" You narrow your eyes at him
"Do you want me to shrivel up and die down there?" He rests his head on your shoulder and you feel him grin against your skin, you gulp in response fearing what would come next.
"Oh pookiebear~ You'll be okay won't you? You still want my girthy meat stick right?" he whispers in your ear, you hate to admit it but it could almost be hot... If he weren't whispering the most deranged shit into your ears. "You love it when my hotdog is inside your moist cavern don't you?"He whispers making you cringe. "And when my hands move to touch your sensitive nubbins" He says, moving his hand over to your chest, teasing your nipples. "How about I purple your nurple, would you like that my candybear.. the jelly to my peanut butter~"
"Satoru.... I hate you so much right now" You complain, He evidently takes pleasure in your cringing as he chuckles leaning in to kiss you. His thrusts once again moving to a pleasurable rhythm. No matter how much you groan and act like you hated him for it, you still truly love him. And that included all of his bedroom antics. In fact, you appreciate it sometimes, he always knows how to make you laugh and well today was indeed one of those days.
Just as you were soaking in the serious affection he was finally giving you after his goofiness.
Two Trucks came on. And he began bobbing his head and syncing his thrusts to the music. You scream in exasperation. "SATORU GOJO I SWEAR TO SHIT I'M NEVER LETTING YOU TOUCH SPOTIFY EVER AGAIN!!!"
He slept on the couch that night.. As he should.
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