#AFTER KEITH BRUSHED HIM OFF HE DESERVED TO BE ACKNOWLEDGED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

troubatrain · 3 years

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want you to want me - m. tkachuk

a/n: i’m awful at intros but this fic is my whole ass child. i started it months ago and i picked it up back and then i just couldn’t stop writing. now we’re at a whopping 10k words and i’m really happy with the way this one came out. i hope you guys like it as much as i loved writing it.

big thanks to @hookingminor @igor-shestyorkin & @tkafuckit for reading this as i wrote it and gassing me up ily all sm

warnings: smut

You were Matthew’s dream girl, and you didn’t have a fucking clue. You were leaning against the cold metal bleachers of your former high school, chatting with whatever teacher probably wanted to hear all about that shiny NWSL contract you signed right out of college with the Chicago Red Stars. It was well deserved, a few national titles in college put you in the position in the first place, and Matthew respected the hell out of you. You wouldn’t know, by the way he never seems like he actually wants to speak to you and the few snide remarks about your sport in general. That started forever ago, when Matthew royally fucked up any chance he had with you later in life because he was a competitive asshole.

It started when you were twelve, and middle school was nothing short of a mess. Matthew was growing into his own, adding a near foot to his height over one summer while his father and coaches doted on the fact that he was getting bigger. Getting bigger meant getting better, and for a few years winning was the most important thing in the world. But, becoming a hormonal preteen came with something else, feelings about the girl who sat three rows behind him in almost all of his classes.

Then third period gym class came around, and Matthew was a competitive monster. The kind of kid who took that way too seriously, and you accidentally became public enemy number one. You were the only person in his class who could even come close to beating him at anything, because you were just as much of an athlete as he was. Soccer had become your craft, and much like Matthew, you declared you’d go pro one day. So, Matthew did what any other insecure twelve year old boy would, he teased you relentlessly. It was awful, but by the time Matthew had gone off to play for the National team you had forgotten about his bullshit.

Apparently, you’d done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Taryn’s best friend. Best friend was probably understatement, the pair were inseparable on and off the field. They trained together, they played on the same teams and that meant way too much time with the rest of the Tkachuk’s. You learned quickly, that the rest of their family was wonderful and Matthew seemed to be too thick headed to fall in line.

You tolerated Matthew, brushing his silly remarks off just like you did when you were younger. The thing was, Matthew didn’t want you to just tolerate him, but he didn’t know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew who’d been standing next to his brother since the start of your sister’s game.

“Hi Brady,” You greet, tapping Brady on the shoulder who pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That annoyed Matthew the most, the way you seemed to love his siblings and despise him. In your defense, nobody was more supportive of your professional career than Brady, who’d made a promise to catch a game the second he could, “Hi Matthew.”

You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. You’d gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didn’t think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because you’d heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didn’t matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldn’t hold a hockey stick so he was just better.

“You’re here!” You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamie’s sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. You’d been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised you’d make it back in time, and your flight landed less than five hours ago but you made it.

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself, watching his own sister push past him to see you. Taryn loved you, because sometimes she just needed a big sister and her brothers were in another country most

of the time. It was the part that killed him the most, seeing you with his family. You fit right in, a fierce athlete with drive that rivaled his own. Brady side-eyed his own brother, watching him instead of the scene unfolding in front of him. He was frustrated with his own brother for not just telling you the truth, that he teased you because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to handle having a crush on you.

But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didn’t.

***

Matt, you don’t have a girlfriend right?

Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sister’s question, but when he realized her best friend had been sitting right next to her in the kitchen, his curiosity got the best of him. So he did, telling his sister he was single and sparing her details of any of the girls he’d gone on dates with the past year. That was his life is Calgary, a constant revolving door so no one would see what was underneath layers of sarcasm and angst. But every summer, he’d come home and wonder when he’d start to build a life for himself, and if he’d ever find that person to do it with. That was when his brain would start to wander, fantasies of a future that always seemed to involve you. He loved to imagine it, the years that you’d both spend supporting the other’s dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought you’d do the same. Then you’d both settle down, the big house with the white picket fence and a shiny ring on your finger Matthew put there himself and years of arguing about what sport your future children would play - he’d even consider letting you have just one.

Unfortunately, none of that could be real until he figured out how to get you to hate him less. Taryn apparently had the same idea, and had been scheming with your sister for months. The two girls were looking at Matthew with devilish grins on their faces, like whatever they came up with would totally work.

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, “It’s sad actually-”

“We think you should date,” Taryn explains, Matthew’s eyes went wide. His sister didn’t know the whole story, or just how far back this stupid fued went. Taryn always loved you, so Matthew just kept his remarks to himself.

“I know you know Y/N doesn’t like me very much,” Matthew explains, “So tell me how that’s going to work.”

“Apologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything she’ll forgive you,” Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times you’d shown her mercy when she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ve got to be sorry,” Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthew’s eyes giving him daggers, “What? You were a dick to her for years, you’ve got to fix that first.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasn’t going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what he’d say to you if he ever got the chance. He was trying to fix his past, because the way he acted towards you was the one thing he regrets.

So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field he’d been to plenty of times. He used to run through the park nearby, catching a glimpse of your practices when you were in high school and Matthew was an afterthought. He hops out of his car, smiling when he could see you running drills alone. You were dribbling the ball, counting to yourself while you were weaving through cones you set up.

“I’ve never been good at those,” Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, “I kick the cones with my skate every single time.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I came to apologize?” Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, “I was just an insecure kid then, and you didn’t deserve what I did just because I was afraid you’d beat in something.”

Matthew left out the part where he felt like he was still that kid all the time. All of those insecurities about himself seemed to be picked up by every reporter in Canada when he was there. You bit your lip, pretending like you were trying to debate whether or not you should forgive Matthew at all. In reality, you would have forgiven him ages ago if he’d just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthew’s constant taunting made you better. He was pleading, baby blue eyes staring at you sadly while he waited for your answer. He looked like he didn’t think he deserved to be forgiven, shoulders slumped while he tried to read your body language. It was something you noticed about Matthew forever ago, he could have everything in the world but when he looked at you he seemed almost sad.

“I mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, “If I win, I don’t have to and if you win all is forgiven.”

“Really? Isn’t that why we were in this situation to begin with?” Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.

“I thought you weren’t that kid anymore,” You remind of his own words, testing him to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, “C’mon Tkachuk let’s see what you got.”

Matthew shook his head, laughing and lining up next to you. You both counted to three, sprinting down the field at full force. Matthew knew his height was the only thing working to his advantage while he tried to keep up with you. You were nearing your finish line, and Matthew didn’t think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didn’t know that. His arms stretched out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his chest. Matthew turned his body around, stepping over the line before you did.

“God, you’re such a fucking cheater Matthew,” You hit his chest, Matthew’s hands still firmly placed on your hips.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, “Just want you to forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,” You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you.

No. Absolutely not. You told yourself while you checked your phone, rolling your eyes at the warning text from Jamie that Matthew was on his way, you couldn’t have anything but indifference to Matthew Tkachuk. It got harder everytime you saw him, the past few years had been nothing short of kind to him, he was growing from a dumb immature boy to a man more and more every summer. You turn around, peeking at Matthew who was sitting down and catching his breath, a winning smile on his face, the same kind he had the very first time he schooled everyone at floor hockey in middle school.

Maybe you could be friends.

***

Matthew liked having you as a friend, mostly because as of right now that was all he was going to get. You definitely didn’t trust him, which was valid considering Matthew had been a dick to you for years, but he was working on it. He had to, that uncontrollable feeling that he cared about you was getting harder to shove back down with every year that passed.

“You’re friends now, you don’t need to stare at her like a creep anymore,” Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldn’t help it, you just had a glow about you, you always did, but somehow in the summer you were golden. Tonight you looked even better, maybe it’s because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.

“He’s in love with you,” Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“He apologized to me,” You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthew’s visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people who’d been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know that they no longer had to worry about one of you blowing up because the other was there, you just wanted everyone to let it go too. Matthew deserved a little forgiveness, you could only imagine the pressure he felt on himself back then, and while he didn’t totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, “Don’t-”

“Oh wonder why, I know it’s because he looooves you,” Steph teases, “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah I mean we’re both older and I’d like to think he’s wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,” You knew this was going to be your excuse for a while. It was better for everyone that you forgave him, Jamie and Taryn spent more time together than you’d spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasn’t untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didn’t mean Matthew’s stupid dimples didn’t persuade you before you could think about anyone else, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, you’d accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that he’d gotten a chance to show it.

“If you’re going to go pro Y/N, you’ve got to start keeping up,” Brady chirps, watching you stumble over your own feet to walk over to him and Matthew. Matthew had seen this once before, a level of drunkenness where you turned into bambi but that was so long ago he never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ll go pro in beating your ass Brady,” You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, “Hi Matthew.”

“Hi,” Matthew’s voice was small, a weird sound considering he was usually the loudest in the room. Brady scoffs, walking away from the two of you before he snaps at how hopelessly in love his brother was. You turn your head in confusion, your mind far too hazy to realize why Brady was so annoyed in the first place, causing Matthew to chuckle, “Want to play? Might be best if we’re on the same team.”

Matthew’s thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, “I mean if it’s for the best.”

Matthew’s arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasn’t helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Steph’s stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a don’t at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about who’s elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.

“Brady you’re cheating,” You call out, Matthew’s head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.

“You heard her Brady, elbows over the table,” Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brother’s expense.

“Oh look at you two, you’re just gonna raise some winners one day aren’t you?” Brady chirps back, both happy to see you getting along and annoyed once he realizes that means he was going to get roasted by both of you now. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, tucking your face into Matthew’s arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.

“We’re winners right now,” Matthew calls out, his last ball landing in the cup and sealing the game for the two of you. Matthew would raise winners with you, it was something he thought about from time to time, but those thoughts were never going to see the light of day, “Alright drunky I think it’s time to get you home.”

“You can stay, I’ll just catch a ride with someone,” You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.

“One, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,” Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, “Two, we’re friends now and I’d like to make sure you don’t die before you see a pro game.”

Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didn’t know was that getting you home would be more difficult than he thought. You started in the direction of your house, but apparently you were a runner and a speedy one at that. Now you were barely two blocks away from Matthew’s parents place and if he could at least get you there he’d be able to call it a night - which wasn’t fucking easy.

“Alright I’ve had enough,” Matthew huffs, jogging to catch up with you and scooping you into his arms. You were hanging over his shoulder, Matthew making his way down the street with the house in his sightline. You could have cared less, laughing your ass off while Matthew walked up the stairs and finally placed you back down on your feet, “Be quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.”

You weren’t quiet, not at all and Matthew was amazed not one of his parents came down to see what all the chaos was about. After Matthew had to walk you up the stairs, running back down for some water and hoping you weren’t a disaster by the time he got back - he found you in his bed. You were curled up right in the middle, an old London Knights shirt on your body, Matthew’s favorite. Matthew grabs his comforter, throwing it over your body. He sighs, leaning against his door frame and smiling to himself at how comfortable you looked, flicking off the light and retreating to the guest room.

Matthew hated the guest room. He hated how hard the mattress was and after a few hours of no sleep and tossing and turning - he gave up. Matthew hoped no one else was up, but not to his surprise his mother was already in the kitchen, and judging by the look on her face, she knew who was upstairs.

“Care to explain?” Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthew’s face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.

“She fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,” Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldn’t push it any further, “I, uh, apologized the other day.”

“Good,” Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didn’t like to push Matthew, her one kid who seemed to be a little rougher around the edges than the others, but that silly feud never sat right with her, “Here, bring her a coffee, I’m sure she needs it.”

Matthew nods, grabbing the mug his mother was holding out and starting to make his way up the stairs. He heard the tell her you made it from his mother and shook his head. He knew what she was thinking, especially with the way Chantal seemed to talk about you. His mother thought you were nothing short of perfect, and Matthew would be a liar if he didn’t think the same thing.

“Did I fall asleep here?” You’d woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthew’s room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.

“Only after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,” Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, “You know you’re fast right?”

“Yeah,” You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, “I’m sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.”

Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and he’d drive you home after. You fell into a comfortable conversation, something Matthew never thought would happen.

And watching you walk up to your steps in his shirt still wasn’t something he thought he’d see, but it was better than he imagined.

***

“Hey it’s Jamie, can’t get to the phone right now…”

You groan, tossing your phone onto your bed and continuing your pace around the room. It was well after midnight, and your sister had been out all night, and past her curfew. Usually you’d cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. That’s what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like you’d done, but Jamie always told you the truth. She’d check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that she’s going to be out late but she’s safe and if she needed anything she knew who to call. You texted sometime around ten, just checking in since it was Saturday and you were sure she had a more riveting social life than yourself. No answer. Then eleven rolled around and you didn’t hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now it’s twelve thirty and you still haven’t heard anything. You cross your arms, looking at your phone as if you could will an answer into existence. You grab it, dialing a number you weren’t even sure would work.

“Hello?” Matthew’s voice appeared on the other side of the line, clear confusion in his voice. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping Matthew would have the answer you wanted to hear so desperately.

“Is my sister at your house?” You ask, biting your lip and throwing on a pair of sweats so you could pick her up and murder her for scaring you like that. You were sure it was innocent, Jamie slept over at Taryn’s all the time, staying up way too late watching movies or when Jamie would hide going to a party from your much stricter parents.

Matthew tells you to give him a minute, and you can hear him walking through the house. By the time you heard a door open and a small fuck under his breath, your stomach dropped, “She was supposed to be home by midnight.”

“Alright, thanks anyways,” You sigh, “Do you know where they might have gone? It’s just, Jamie hasn’t answered me in hours and she usually does even if she’s out past curfew and I’m just-”

“I’ll be at your house in ten,” Matthew says, his keys alright in his hand and his foot halfway out the door. He was more mad than worried, sure his sister was out a party past curfew. Matthew was her biggest brother, and he was far more protective over her than Brady ever could be. He hated when she did this, and Matthew was pissed. You waited on your steps, Matthew car coming into view while you sprung up and practically sprinted into his car.

“You look mad,” You observe, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and that’s why he’s like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldn’t dare get in the middle of that.

“I am mad,” Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes you’d find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes weren’t fooling you.

“Wait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,” You yell, Matthew’s foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, “Hey Henry have you seen my sister?”

“Oh yeah I think she’s still inside,” Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, “I think she’s with Taryn.”

Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthew’s fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes you’d see them. It took three bedrooms and a laundry room until you finally saw Taryn standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, and you pushed past them both to see Jamie with her head in the toilet. She was fine, well she was definitely in deep shit, but it wasn’t the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you call someone,” Matthew yells, trying so damn hard to not completely snap on his baby sister. Taryn yells that her phone had died and then Jamie got sick and she didn’t know what to do. Of course they didn’t. You were probably more sympathetic, and you knew just how pissed off Matthew could get. You get up, pushing Taryn back into the bathroom and telling her to watch your sister.

“Calm down before you talk to her, please,” You plead, grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, “Besides, I sort of need some help right now.”

There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you could’ve been helping him. Your hands were wrapped around his biceps, a finger gently rubbing the skin right under the sleeve of his shirt. Every bit of anger disappeared from his body, a calm feeling replacing it. He knew you were right, and he’d be thankful for it later. Matthew knew he had to do the right thing by you, and he nodded, willing to follow any directions you gave him.

Matthew carried Jamie out of the house, getting both of your sisters in the car and finally heading back to your house. You knew he was still pissed off, a present frown on his face so you just took the chance. Just like he’d done before for you, you grabbed one of his hands from his steering wheel, lacing your fingers together. You caught the smile on his face, your thumb rubbing over his hand while his shoulders seemed to just relax. Once

Matthew finally helped you get Jamie inside, a night of laying on her floor to make sure she was okay ahead of you stood in the doorway with Matthew across from you.

“Thank you, I know we’re working on this friendship thing but you really didn’t have to do that,” You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist and tucking your head into his chest.

“You’d do the same thing for Taryn,” Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Taryn’s replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, “Get some rest okay?”

“Wait,” You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, “Don’t kill your sister, please she’s just a kid-”

“You’re way too easy on them,” Matthew chuckles, shaking his head at you. He knew Taryn was probably scared, and after he calmed a bit he understood where you were coming from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tell her that if she ever pulls that shit again - he was going to rat her out to their parents.

And when Matthew finally got back in the car, he could see his sister’s grin in the backseat, “Don’t say it.”

She held your hand, are you sure you’re not going to malfunction now?

***

Maybe you were spiraling.

You’d been waiting for this moment your entire life, now you had a few more weeks until camp started and you were afraid. You knew you were good enough, you had to be. But what if you weren’t? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadn’t felt since Matthew told you soccer wasn’t a real sport in fourth grace. It’d been eating at you for weeks, deteriorating any confidence you had left in yourself. So you started pushing yourself even harder. The harder you worked the less like you were to fuck it all up. Your muscles were sore, your body was tired and it was just all becoming too much.

And Matthew noticed.

You were pushing yourself too hard, even the time you were supposed to relax with your families before your seasons started was being spent training. He understood it, the term first round exit lived rent free in his head every single time his skate hit the ice over the summer, but that didn’t make it okay. You looked tired, sluggish while you moved because you were running twice a day and training in between. And he was pissed everyone seemed to be fine with it. You should start working harder then Matthew. If it bothers you so much maybe you could join her. It wasn’t that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthew’s eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, he’d finally decided he had enough.

Matthew took the walk to your house, charming the pants off your mother for her to tell him you were upstairs because you just got back in. He knocks twice, hearing a come in from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” You question, rolling one of your ankles that just seemed to be getting more swollen every time you started to practice. Matthew noticed it, your hands freezing one you caught his gaze.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didn’t ask for quite like him, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s rich coming from the kid who’s played with more broken bones than anyone I know,” You remind him of a few mistakes Matthew’s made playing through injuries he really shouldn’t, “I’m not fucking frail.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you weren’t, “It’s about taking a break so you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” You huff, getting up and trying your best to hide the pain in your ankle when you stood on it. You fell forward, Matthew catching you in his arms and putting you back down the edge of your bed.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Matthew asks with soft eyes, he bent down to take your ankle in his hand and inspect it the best he could. It was swelling, probably from the amount of pressure you’d been putting on your body with no breaks.

“What if I never score a goal?” You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthew’s. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes he’s ever seen could feel the same way he felt right before his first NHL game. Matthew sits down next to you, hand on your thigh while you let out a cry, “What if I’m just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.”

“You’ll score eventually,” Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, “Everyone does.”

“You scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,” You remind him, Matthew smiling a bit that you knew that to begin with. It would have been impossible not to know, or pretend like you didn’t keep a few tabs on his career. Matthew Tkachuk was a legend in the making, and whether or not you could feel butterflies in your stomach every time he dropped the gloves was a secret you’d take to the grave.

“I got suspended my first season too,” Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, “I’d put down money you score in your first game.”

“Well good thing you have money to lose,” You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.

“You’ll find your groove, all legends do,” Matthew promises, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You snuggled into his side, a realization that he was becoming a comforting presence in your life with each passing day, “And if you don’t, you can always hide out in Canada with me.”

“Matty!” The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadn’t been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, “That’s not making me feel any better.”

“What if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?” Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, “If I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.”

Matthew didn’t mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. He’d owe you one and he hoped it was because you were there for him until he got there. Matthew saw it the same way every time, you’d tell him to go see his parents first but he’d fly right past them to get to you - the person who accidentally pushed him to be his best. He had plenty of daydreams about you winning too, remembering times you used to brag you’d go to the Olympics one day, and he hoped you were right. He wanted to see you succeed, more than anything, and he thought it would work.

“Legally you have to let me drink out of it,” You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.

“It has to be Bud Light,” Matthew teases while watching you fake a gag. You grab his outstretched hand, letting him pull you up. His hands rested on the side of your face, eyes flickering to your lips for just a second. He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for you to be ready. Wait for you to settle down. Or even just wait until he thought he had a real shot at forever.

Forever with you.

***

Matthew was kind of pissed off.

The press didn’t bother him, none of that mattered and at the end of the day Matthew was able to sleep at night knowing he was a good teammate and a decent person most of the time. This one got him though, some writer criticizing the A on his jersey, and how someone who plays like he does didn’t deserve a letter.

A letter he earned.

You could tell something was off, the way Matthew had been running alongside you was aggressive to say the least. He insisted he came with you, something about forcing you to take breaks. He was being your friend, even though your sisters seemed to disagree. Taryn’s words were replaying in your head, Matt doesn’t even care if I get hurt. That didn’t mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didn’t mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.

“Are you mad at me?” You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.

“No?” Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” You push, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at Matthew. You could tell he was pressed about something, his neck covered in a red flush the same way it used to.

“Some stupid article about my letter, don’t worry about it,” Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.

“Get the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,” You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, “If we’re going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.”

“You really want to hear it?” Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think you’re shitty? No you don’t, because you’re so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.”

You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasn’t true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like you’d seen many times before that. Matthew looked like he did the first time you hit a homerun in gym class, except this time it was because that same pressure never got released. You couldn’t come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didn’t have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Brady’s points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.

“Matty,” You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, “Why is this bothering you so much?”

You were sure this wasn’t the first time someone’s said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.

“I’ve felt like this forever,” Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, “From the moment I started getting bigger, there’s just been this pressure to play a certain way and act a certain way. I was a fucking kid, and while all of my friends got to go wherever they wanted all I ever did was practice. Then I finally get to where I wanted and I’m still getting shit on.”

“Except no one thinks you don’t deserve to be where you are,” You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, “And I know it doesn’t make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.”

Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, “I needed that.”

“I know,” You nod, smiling wide up at him, “And we need to practice more because you’re too slow, soooo catch me if you can!”

You slipped out of his arms, running away with a giggle and a smile. Matthew stopped for a second, his Neanderthal brain checking out your ass while you jogged away and his more logical one trying to process what just happened.

But what mattered most was that whatever you did worked and that meant something to Matthew.

***

Just admit you think he’s hot.

You wanted to kill your sister for making this weekend harder than it had to be. You were doing a good job at just friends with Matthew until Jamie was curled up in your bed while you packed for a lake trip with your friends. She pushed it for hours, rambling on about Matthew is actually your type and Taryn swears he’d be a good boyfriend if someone just understood him. The problem was, you were starting to see her point. Matthew had a glow up a few years ago, like one summer he’d gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because he’d been such an ass to you that you hated how attractive he was. Then things changed, and now looking at him was just frustrating you. You were terrified about the way he made you feel, like everything would be okay with one look of those blue eyes and a smirk. You felt like he had your back, a vast change from how you used to feel and it was just getting hard to hide it anymore.

Especially when Matthew looked like he did right now. He was holding himself up on the dock, shoulders broad and glistening in the moonlight above you. All your friends were inside, moving their party away from the water as the night lingered on. You wanted to run your fingers through his wet curls, the temptation was almost too much.

“I’ll be in Chicago a few times you know,” Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachuk’s had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.

“You want to come see me play?” You ask, leaning back on the palms of your hands. You were surprised by the kind of man Matthew had become, it was a completely different person that he used to be. He cared so much about his loved ones, and you were starting to feel like maybe you had a place there.

“Actually thinking you could come see me play,” Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but he’d caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, “This looks better.”

“Don’t make you admit you were right,” You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, “It’s freezing.”

“C’mere then,” Matthew grabs your waist, pulling your body against his. His hands were splayed across your back, heat radiating off of them. One of your hands was on his shoulder, your other on his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly, his eyes locked on yours, “Middle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.”

“Why’s that?” You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.

“Because he had the biggest crush on you,” Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers again, “But he was too thick headed to do anything about it.”

“What about grown up Matthew?” You ask, biting your lip. Matthew was practically holding you both up in the water, pressed so close together you could hear the hitch in his breath at your question, “Is he too thick headed to do something too?”

You wrapped your legs around Matthew’s waist, pressing your lips to his and tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. He pushed you up against the dock, helping you back up and pulling himself up next to you. You grabbed the back of his neck, latching your lips back on his. His hand was on your back, fingers toying with the back of your bathing suit, “Think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?”

Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didn’t fold when it came to a pretty girl. You had him in the palm of your hand, every part of his brain malfunctioning in response to your words. You bit your lip, wondering if you’d read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, “When are you going to realize I’d do whatever you asked me to?”

The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthew’s hands still toying your bathing suit top, “Just take it off already Matty.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, “So fucking beautiful.”

You back hit the mattress, Matthew’s hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasn’t in Matthew’s vocabulary, but he was taking his time just in case he never got this opportunity again. His fingers hooked under your bathing suit bottoms, sliding the wet fabric down your legs. You looked so beautiful, spread out just for Matthew like he’d dreamed about numerous times. His lips moved down to your breasts, teeth grazing against your skin while his tongue swirled against your nipple. You let out a breathy moan, Matthew’s ego boosting from the sound. You plucked at his curls while his mouth moved down to where you were craving him most, a gentle kiss to your clit, “Matty, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to beg,” Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please,” You whine, pussy dripping from Matthew’s hot breath fanning over it. Matthew chuckles darkly, fingers digging into your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moan, completely unbothered by the blaring music a floor below you. Matthew didn’t seem to be bothered either, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit, living for the way you were whimpering above him, “Matty-”

“Close baby?” Matthew groans, slipping a finger inside of you and curling it. You back arched, his name falling through your lips was enough to answer his question. Your legs shook, pleasure washing over your body from Matthew and all of it just felt so right. Matthew’s lips were latched to your skin until he finally met your eyes again. He smiles softly, nudging his nose with yours while you caught your breath, “So good for me.”

“Should’ve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,” You tease smiling against his lips.

“Not with you, not anymore,” Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didn’t know how else to make it clearer, he wanted you. You kissed him slowly, hands trailing down his abs and stopping where his shorts hit his waist. Matthew kicks off his swim trunks, cock springing free. You grab the back of his neck, pulling your lips to his and rolling over top of him and straddling his waist. It was criminal how good you looked on top of him, “Gonna ride me babe?”

You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthew’s smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, “We don’t have to if my dick’s too big.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your hips, watching the way Matthew’s head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthew’s hands gripped your waist, moving your hips faster. His finger flicked over your clit, causing you to lunge forward on top of him. Matthew flipped you over, wrapping a leg around his waist so he could hit your g-spot. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails leaving scratches Matthew was going to wear pride later. You were seeing stars, noises leaving your throat you’d never even heard yourself make, “Fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Look at me,” Matthew grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours and watching while your eyes roll back with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around him, his own cum spilling into you from the sensation, a loud groan following. Matthew pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried inside of you, “I wasn’t bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.”

“Matthew,” You whisper, running a finger along his back, “The distance…”

You didn’t mention everything, the way that if this was real it meant it would end up ripping you both apart. You were set to live in a different city, Matthew all the way in another country. The way your dreams included a spot on the U.S. National team, and the idea that wanting to be with Matthew would hold you back was terrifying. The way his dreams probably meant staying in Calgary forever, a C on his jersey and a cup over his head. It wasn’t going to be easy, you weren’t ever going to be the doting girlfriend he probably needed. There would be years of travel schedules and games that overlapped, and a part of you thought that maybe Matthew wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d get a year in and he’d find someone who would be there more and finally you’d end it.

“We can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,” Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, “I want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. I’m all in here, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Can I have some time?” You plead, holding onto Matthew’s shoulders because you knew he could leave and tell you to never speak to him again. Matthew sighs, understanding the way you were shitting yourself about starting your own professional career, remembering the way rookie Matthew would have died before he considered settling down that first year, “Please don’t leave me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, “I’ll wait for you.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didn’t sleep a minute that night, running every single scenario that could possibly happen with the two of you. Matthew was sure it would work out, it had to, because if it didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover.

So now all he could was wait.

***

You know this is creepy right?

Matthew stares at Sam, punching his teammate in the arm lightly and telling him to shut up. He had a night off in Chicago, and after four straight hours of staring at your contact in his phone, Matthew finally just bought the tickets. He’d been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasn’t doing so hot, Matthew consuming more soccer games than hockey games at this point. It started with your first game, because how was he supposed to just pretend like it wasn’t happening? You scored too, and it took everything in his power not to call you to tell you that not only was he right, he was insanely proud of you.

And he’d been hearing it from everyone. Your sister thought it was bullshit, Taryn and Jamie almost had Matthew on a flight to Chicago ready to show up like a terrible Lifetime movie. Brady thought it was hilarious the way Matthew was simping like this for one girl. Now, his teammates were on him, wondering why on Earth their friend who historically ran through women faster than he did mouthguards could be this hung up on someone he had a crush on in middle school.

“What number is she?” Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.

“Nineteen,” Matthew smiles, pointing down at you on the field. You looked so happy, warming up with one of your teammates and a bright smile on your face. It seemed like a good fit, your team and your new city, and it made Matthew’s heart grow four sizes.

“Did she choose your number?” Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, “What?”

“It was her number first,” Matthew admits, not wanting to ever confess to another soul that you crossed his mind when he kept that camp number. Sam howled next to him, leaning over his seat and cracking up at his teammate.

You looked out in the crowd about halfway through the game, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things. That tuft of curls was hard to miss, not to mention you knew just how big Matthew was. He was far too into the game to realize you caught him, up in arms about a call against your team that was valid but he’d argue it wasn’t. You asked for space, and it was getting harder to stick to your guns. Especially when he was making it so clear that he wanted this.

And whether or not you went to his game the next night, was a secret you’d take to the grave.

***

You were so close you could have tasted it.

While the final seconds of your season came to a close, all you could do was hold your head in your hands and hope no one caught the tears. A semi-final loss was devastating, but a semi-final loss where there wasn’t anything you could have done differently was even worse. Every athlete had off nights, a point Keith pushed right before you left to start your season, and he was right. Unfortunately, that was this game. Your biggest fear had come true and there was nothing you could do about it now. The game was over and you weren’t moving on.

And Matthew watched it.

Matthew promised you space, and he swore he’d give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldn’t ignore. He could tell you were off, your entire rookie season was almost perfect and watching the way you folded during this game was gut wrenching. Matthew knew better than anyone, losing sucked. So he took the chance, grabbing his phone and shooting you a text he’d been waiting to send.

Doors open in Calgary.

and I’m so fucking proud of you.

It was the very last text you saw before you went to bed that night, tossing and turning for a few hours thinking about that loss. You couldn’t stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didn’t know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthew’s apartment without a second thought. You’d left him on read, calling Brady in the middle of the night and asking for his address, who gave it to you reluctantly with a reminder that if you needed to see him this badly you should rethink the needing time thing.

Matthew let out a groan when he had a bang at his door at three in the morning. Noah definitely was trying to walk into the wrong apartment again, and Matthew was grouchy when he whipped his door open. Except it wasn’t Noah after he’d had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” You admit, whispering something you never thought you’d say to anyone, “I just didn’t do enough-”

Matthew didn’t say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didn’t need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didn’t want that right now, you wanted him, “Baby…”

“Everything hurts,” You whimper, finally just letting it all out. You were bruised and battered from the season, the physical pain alone was enough to upset you, let alone the loss you just took. Matthew carded his fingers through your hair, letting you soak his bare chest with your tears because he wouldn’t have it any other way. You came back to him. You came back to him when things got too tough because you trusted him to bring you some peace, and he was happy about it.

You passed out sometime after that, your tears finally running dry and the exchaustion taking over your body. Matthew woke up early the next day, grateful for the optional morning skate so he could stay with you for just a little bit longer. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains in his room, a calm snowy morning in Calgary so the city was just a bit quieter.

Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his mom’s words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthew’s god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, “It’s cold here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Matthew hums, internally pumping his fist when he felt your lips form a smile against his skin. You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his against and letting out a laugh, “What’s so funny?”

“You framed my jersey?” You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthew’s from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite player,” Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You keep saying that,” Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“I’ll keep saying it long after we both retire,” Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because he’s had plenty of time to practice this one, “I’ll say it when you win a World Cup gold, I’ll say it when we have kids, I’ll say when you play at the Olympics. I’m going to say it over and over again.”

“But…” You trail off, all of those same demons you’d been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, “What I’m not around enough for you?”

Matthew knew what you were thinking about, he’d thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if you’d find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. He’d do his best, he swore he would, but in order for you to be happy, your passion came first. There was always going to be times when he couldn’t be there and it killed him.

“You’re more than enough,” Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, “I want you to seize every opportunity in the world, I just want to be there to tell you that I love you and use the goat emoji on Instagram when you do.”

You let out a laugh, Matthew’s smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, “I think I want to stay a little while.”

“I think you should,” Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, “Besides I’m playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.”

“You’re a cocky asshole.”

“But now I’m your cocky asshole.”

***

One year Later

You had a good reason to be late.

You swore Matthew couldn’t possibly be mad at you for this one. You’d missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that you’d been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasn’t there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasn’t the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because you’d received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. You’d caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.

You’d finally gotten by the doors to the locker room entrance, out of breath from spriting there from your cab. There was Matthew, tapping his phone and staring at the clock on his phone with furrowed eyebrows. He was still in his suit, tie pulled a little looser, a nervous habit you realized he had some time ago, “Matty-”

“Don’t call me that just because you know you’re late,” Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so he’d forget all about the fact that you promised you’d make it on time. He holds his hand out, waiting for the handshake he made up in the car on the way to the first game you went to after he finally locked it down. You laugh, slapping your hand against his and letting him pull you closer for a kiss.

“They want me on the National Team,” You mumble against his lips, the words spilling out of your mouth when you pull away with an excited smile. Matthew stood there stunned, while you shuffled your feet in the little dance you did when you were really happy. He grabs your cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips again and again.

“We’re celebrating after this, holy shit,” Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,” You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.

“Anything I do seems unimportant now!” Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.

And that’s how Matthew thought it should be.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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takadasaiko · 4 years

Text

Three Little Words (a Veronica Mars one shot)

FFN II AO3

Summary: Veronica has always had a little more trouble with those three little words than Logan has.

Three Little Words

There was something about pre-dawn that made every louder. Doors creaked, pipes sang, and even the coffee pot sounded like it was being amped up through a megaphone aimed directly into her ear. Veronica groaned loudly and turned over, risking a look at the clock. 5:15. It just wasn't right.

Footsteps - soft, she knew somewhere in the back of her mind, even if somehow the hour magically made it sound like he was stomping through the apartment - drew closer and Logan appeared at the door in just his sleeping pants with a toothbrush still stuck in his mouth. "Hey, did I wake you up?" he asked around it, his voice very quiet and very loud all at once.

Veronica pushed a breath out through her nose and sat up in bed. Something was off. He was further along in his morning routine than he ever should have been at this hour, even if the Navy had somehow managed to train him into being a morning person. He must have already been out on his run down the beach because the pants he was wearing weren't the same ones that he'd worn to bed the night before - those were still crumpled on the floor in the corner - meaning that he'd already had his shower. His hair wasn't wet, though. It took a moment, but realization finally clicked into place. "Your leave's over today."

He gave a brief nod and disappeared back to the bathroom to rinse.

It felt like he'd just gotten back from his six month deployment yesterday. The two weeks had been a blur of excitement over the simple fact that they weren't just on the same continent again, but in the same town. There had been more than one late night while he was away - especially after a long stretch of radio silence from him - that Veronica had laid in bed and wondered if her brain had just cooked everything up. If she would blink her eyes open and she'd be back in New York City with Piz asleep next to her and her nice, normal job waiting for her the next day. Every damn time she'd felt her heart sink at the thought and had reached for her phone. Just in case. Here, now, she could hold onto him. He was living, breathing proof that she'd made the right decision.

While they had held up in the guesthouse that he rented from Dick for the first two days or so, they'd made a conscious effort to get out and do things together. Dinner and a movie, walks on the beach, and he'd helped her move into her new apartment. Ten days had flown by faster than she could have ever predicted, especially on the heels of the longest hundred and eighty days known to man. She wasn't sure she was ready to let him go and start getting used to whatever this new, new normal was. She just wanted to tug him back into bed and ignore the hour.

There was that whole AWOL thing, though. The Navy sure was picky.

"You have some time before you have to go?" she called out, trying to decide if she could steal any time with him at all. Breakfast, maybe.

"First day back after leave is always busy, especially right after deployment," he answered from across the hall and stepped back into her line of sight. "I need to drop by my place and get dressed before getting out there. I was going to just sleep there last night, but you know. Best laid plans and all of that." He gave her an impish smile and she felt her own lips quirk up at the thought of the night before.

"You should probably keep them here so you don't have to leave at an hour that shouldn't even exist," Veronica offered, flopping back against her pillow.

Logan bent to dig through his bag that he'd finally brought over. "You offering me a drawer?"

"Maybe. If you play your cards right."

He straightened, tugging a fresh t-shirt over his head and her own smile faded a little. "No time for breakfast?"

"I'll grab a bagel to eat on the way down to San Diego." He dropped the lightweight pajama pants and exchanged them for a pair of jeans. "Dinner tonight, though?"

"Will you be back in time?"

"Should be. I'll give you a call when I leave out."

"It's a date," she said with a sly grin and a motion for him to come closer. She caught his hand and pulled him in. Logan didn't take much coaxing as he leaned down, his eyes falling closed as his lips brushed hers. She wrapped her fingers around the fabric of his shirt to bring him even closer.

He was the one to break the kiss and as her eyes drifted back open, trying to stop herself from hauling him back into bed if they had time or not, and she found that soft brown gaze fixed on her. "I love you," he whispered and she felt herself freeze at the words. If he noticed, he didn't acknowledge it, but pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "Gotta go."

And then he was out the door, leaving those three unanswered words hanging heavily in the air.

---------

They stuck with her all day. Through coffee and breakfast, through a morning jog and a shower, and they even worked their way through her often unshakable focus on the case at hand.

I love you.

It wasn't like Logan had never said them before. He had been adamant about it after that first confession in his car all those years ago. At the time she had brushed it off with a quip about the things guys said to get past second base, but he had said it again and again after. Sometimes it was boldly, all the confidence in the world filling the words and sometimes quietly, almost as if he were afraid that she didn't reciprocate. However he said it, she never questioned that he believed it and that he meant it with everything he had had in him.

That had been years ago, though, and this had been the first time he'd let those three little words slip out since they had found their way back to each other. And she hadn't been able to say it back, like so many times before.

Veronica sighed, her gaze directed at the office window but not really focused on anything in particular. It wasn't that she didn't feel it. They had so often been caught up in the next batch of chaos life was churning out at them when they were young, but she had been drawn to him in a way she'd never known with any other guy. He had always been more ready than she had been to put feelings out on the table - to be vulnerable with her - and it looked like no amount of growth had changed that when the moment had called for it.

It wasn't like she didn't know why. Years and maturity didn't erase the fact that she had lost nearly everyone she had been close to. Her mother, gone again and again to finally close the lid on all of Veronica's failed attempts by not only squandering the help her daughter had used her college savings to pay for, but then taking off with the money her father had meant to put towards Stanford. Lilly who had been gone so suddenly and the utter lack of justice that had followed with Aaron's release. Sure, he'd gotten his in the end, but after what he'd done to all of them he deserved to suffer so much more than a bullet to the back of the head. Then there had been Duncan who had been run out of town just to have a chance to raise his own kid and even Logan himself. Looking back, she wondered if her readiness to assume the worst with him had been a subconscious way of protecting herself, just like leaving Neptune and keeping those few that had somehow held on at arm's length had been. People never stayed. They died or they just left. It was the lesson she'd learned and that had been deeply ingrained through repetition, and if you didn't let yourself get too attached it hurt a lot less.

But knowing it in the abstract and doing something to change it we're different beasts entirely. She'd made a start. Coming home had been more of a relief than she ever would have predicted, almost like she'd stopped running and turned to face the fight instead. Adrenaline pumping, purpose set, it had felt right for the first time in years. She'd reconnected with Wallace and Mac, rekindled that close relationship she hadn't realized she'd missed that much with her dad, and she and Logan…. would have to find their stride. She knew she didn't want to live without him, that he had remained - even with nine years of silence between them - one of the most important people to ever move through her life. She wanted him there with her for years and years to come, their lives intertwined. She wanted to continue to learn more about the man that had once been the boy she had…. loved.

And still did. Always did. Always would. She loved him.

"You doin' okay there?"

Veronica jumped at her father's voice. "How long have you been standing there?" she demanded, feeling the blood rush to her face.

"Long enough to wonder if the world's goofiest smile might have something to do with the owner of the way-too-fancy sports car that just pulled up outside," Keith answered with a crooked smile of his own.

The front door to the office chimed and Veronica spotted a familiar figure in his service khakis. If her dad had thought the smile she had been wearing before was goofy it was a wonder what he thought about the one she wore as she stood from her desk and started towards him. "Hey, I thought you were gonna call first."

"I did. Several times," he answered lightly, his own smile tilting into place to match the amusement in his eyes. His gaze flickered over to Keith. "Mr Mars."

"Logan," he greeted back. "And while it's always nice to have been promoted from dude, Keith's fine. You kids have plans tonight?"

"Dinner," Veronica answered, pulling her boyfriend's attention fully back towards her and his eyes narrowed just a little, though they never lost that spark of amusement.

"I was thinking about that new Chinese place at the edge of town if you're interested."

"Very. You good, Dad?"

He waved them off as he shuffled back towards his own office, leaving Veronica to grab her purse and slip her hand into Logan's as they made their way out the door and into the hallway leading out. He tugged a little after the door closed behind them. "You're in a good mood for getting woken up at the crack of dawn."

"Before the crack of dawn," Veronica countered and pulled him a little closer at that to wrap her arms around his neck. Logan's lips twitched up before he ducked down, spinning her a little so that her back was against the wall as he stole a kiss. "I love you too," she breathed as they parted.

"What's that now?"

She let her eyes slide open and she saw hints of all that boyish charm that had always gotten them into trouble. "Just answering you from this morning."

His expression sobered just a little and his words were quiet. "Wasn't sure you were going to."

"I know. It still…. takes me a little while. I'm working on it, but I want you to know that I do. Love you, I mean."

That grin returned. "I love you too."

"Yeah, that was never in question," she laughed and he tilted his head just a little to the side. "You don't exactly have trouble telling me how you feel."

"Sure I do," he answered softly and took the smallest of steps back. She took hold of the front of his uniform and pulled him back in close. His smile returned and he shrugged as if he realized she wasn't letting him go until he explained. "I don't have to tell you that I…. don't always face things head on. That I deflect. I think it was something I learned pretty young."

Veronica frowned a little at that. She could make a relatively safe bet on who and what had taught him the lesson that he had to protect himself emotionally when he couldn't protect himself physically.

"I don't get close to a lot of people, but I made myself a promise a long time ago with you."

"What's that?"

"That you'd know me. That you'd never have to question if you did. Now, after everything, I don't want to hide anything from you, even if…." He ran a hand through his shortly cropped hair. "You don't have to say it just because I do, Veronica. I just want you to know I love you. That doesn't come with strings."

"I know I don't have to, but it's the truth."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He leaned in, his forehead touching hers and it was everything she could do to remember they were outside the Mars Investigation offices with her father inside. "Let's get takeout instead of going out."

"You sure?"

She tipped up on her toes, catching him in a kiss as her hand slipped lower and lower down the front of his shirt. "Oh yeah." Her hand slipped down into his again and he was already moving towards the cars parked on the street outside.

All these years later, all the pain and the mixed bag of good and bad decisions later, she knew it would work this time. Some of it was the growth, sure. They had had to get their lives together separately to make it work together, but it would work. She loved him too much to let it fall apart again.

--------

Notes: I was really sad when I realized that Veronica didn't actually say the words "I love you" until S4 and this is the result. It's not that I think she didn't love him, it's that her walls are tough to break down.

#Veronica Mars #Logan Echolls #Veronica Mars fic

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.68

Oversleeping by accident, Lance woke cuddled in all directions. Blue near his head, Keith in his arms, Kosmo laying along his back. He and Keith hadn’t talked much, they’d napped, watched a movie that Lance fell asleep during. Keith teased him over it, so they’d put on a movie Keith wanted to watch, then they’d both fallen asleep during it. Shiro brought some clothes and things by for them. Chocolate and blood for him, food for Keith, Kosmo and Blue, clothes for Keith... essentials Keith must have asked his brother for.

Waking Keith up, his boyfriend was his usual zombie self, Lance prodding him along to the shower and do his teeth. For no real good reason he could think of he’s started crying watching Keith brush his teeth. His boyfriend was an aggressive brusher, and Lance knew not to interrupt lest he be stabbed by the toothbrush.

When they came out to no coffee, Keith looked a broken man. Lance dressing in a hurry, grabbing up his phone and wallet, then waiting for Keith to get dressed before promising to buy him coffee. Going out for breakfast would make a nice change, and he needed the distraction thanks to his stupid emotions. Watching a sleepy Keith patting a sleepy Kosmo made him cry all over again, Blue pausing in her grooming to shoot him an extremely judgemental look, like she knew he humans were going out and wondering how long she must be subjected to them before they left. Getting Keith moving again, Kosmo was harnessed up, the walk would do the pup good. If he was too tired, hopefully he wouldn’t be too destructive during the briefing that they’d blown off the day before.

Keith didn’t appreciate the walk to get coffee, and didn’t want to eat anything solid. His grump factor was high, Lance unable to do anything about getting that caffeine into Keith’s blood stream any faster than he was. Sitting in the cafe a block and a half up the road from VOLTRON, Keith barely had time to get through his first cup before Shiro was calling to “ask where they were” and “reminding him they had a very important briefing that they couldn’t skip out on”. Keith acknowledged Shiro in a series of grunts, with the use of the word “coffee”. Shiro must have understood they were getting coffee as Keith hung up the phone with a deep groan, not needing to fill Lance in as he’d heard as it was. It hardly made for the nice distracting breakfast last was hoping for. But it was nice to be outside with Keith, plus they hadn’t gotten in trouble for bringing Kosmo into the cafe.

As they walked back to work, Keith finished his second cup of coffee, now awake enough to talk English again

“Thanks for that, babe... can’t human without my coffee”

Keith looked as if he’d climbed out of hell and was ready to wage war if he didn’t have his morning coffee. The world in danger until the beast was fed, and Lance found it completely adorable provided Keith wasn’t being snappy

“I know, babe. I wish you’d eaten though”

Keith shook his head. They would have been even later if they’d eaten, but Lance was always the hopeless romantic. A nice quite breakfast with his boyfriend and their dog. At least they’d had half an hour in the outside world. He missed the sun...

“I don’t know how you put up with me in the mornings”

Lance cast a quick look around, the people outside were all too focused on their own lives to care, Lance kissing Keith’s cheek

“Years of practise. And I make special exceptions for the man I like”

Making as if taking Kosmo’s lead, Keith wrapped his hand around Lance’s, but didn’t take the lead from him. Lance’s cheeks dusting at holding his boyfriend’s hand in public

“I’m lucky I have you... Shiro’s going to be cranky. He said he wanted to talk before the briefing”

Keith mentioned that... Lance hadn’t expected an early morning briefing or he might have let Shiro caffeinate Keith. They’d climbed out of bed at 8:30. Lance normally awake from about 6am

“We overslept. We both needed the rest”

He still felt like he needed the rest. It sucked. He’d had plenty of blood the night before, but he felt slow and lethargic, like his inner hermit was trying to turn him into a hermit crab. He could have easily pulled his shell on and slept on the pavement if it’d been safe

“Yeah... How are you feeling?”

“Still a bit tired and emotionally drained. You?”

Keith mumbled

“Kind of the same. It was nice having us time”

Lance’s cheeks grew redder as he nearly tripped over air. It was nice. No fighting. No talking about serious things. Just him and Keith, with Kosmo and Blue, as they watched movies on his laptop. Keith had even indulged in a rom-com Lance had seen at least a dozen times. He’d pointed out that Lance was without his usual red wine and blood, offering to send Shiro to pick up a bottle for him

“It was. I’m sorry I’ve been crying”

“As long as you’re okay, babe. I’m sorry I couldn’t function enough to ask properly”

Keith didn’t ask with his words. He asked with the soft touches on his arms... or attempts at soft touches, they were more like uncoordinated smacks

“I know you’re terrible without your coffee... and I would have told you if it was something else. I feel like crying because you asked me”

Keith squeezed his hand

“If the briefing gets too hard, or you’re uncomfortable, tell me. We... we’re taking this slow, and we’re both still getting over things”

His stomach kind of hurt, but touching it didn’t feel right... He liked it better when Keith quietly held him with hand against his belly. He didn’t feel so scared when it was Keith

“I know... Shit... I’m about to cry again. I wish these hormones would get it together”

“Me too, babe... I don’t like seeing you cry. Though, you do cry a lot”

At least twice a day. Feeling his emotions was important and helped him feel more human

“I don’t like crying over nothing. I cried because you brushed your teeth, how much more whack can you get?”

Keith nodded sympathetically

“That is pretty bad”

“I know! Then you and Kosmo were being so cute that I had to cry and now you’re being nice and I want to cry. I feel like I could probably fart then cry over that. It’s ridiculous”

Keith turned his head, shooting him a soft smile. With the morning sunlight, his boyfriend looked like some kind of emo angel. His smile should be illegal this early in the morning. God, he was weak for Keith’s smile

“Maybe a little. It’ll get better”

“Yeah. I have the best boyfriend to help me out”

“I don’t know about that”

“You remembered I wanted chocolate. Could have married you on the spot”

What was he saying now? Lance kicked himself mentally. He was trying not to scare his boyfriend off, not dump love and marriage on him. He was too stupid for words. He should have got himself something other than tea

“You can thank Shiro for that. He asked if we needed anything and reminded me”

“Babe, we were both so out of it yesterday, you deserve a gold star for remembering”

Keith’s cheeks turned red, Lance leaning in to kiss his cheek with a laugh

“Okay. Let’s save some of that energy for the briefing. But thank you”

Keith sighed deeply, Lance thinking he was about to be told off by his boyfriend because “he wasn’t a kid”. Instead, he found himself snorting with laughter when Keith said

“I don’t want to adult”

Keith ignored his brother as they joined everyone else in the conference room after Lance had taken Kosmo back to their room. Taking him by the hand, his boyfriend led him over to the two free chairs between Rieva and Allura. The vampire felt like an old man as Keith sat him down, before sitting beside him and taking his hand. Lance was mortified over the previous day and tired, not at all in the mood for this. He missed his glasses, they’d been crushed by accident in his rush to ride Keith.

“Nice to see you, Lance. Keith. Sorry your coffee date got cut short. You two deserved a break after your heat. Two days... longest yet”

Lance couldn’t manage sarcastic reply to return Curtis’s greeting. He’d clung to Curti’s horn, terrified he was about to ruin everything with Keith. What he didn’t expect was a fresh wave of tears to start rolling down his face. He didn’t particularly sad or sorry for himself, he just felt tired and wanted to be there to support Keith. Shiro was looking at him weirdly, and he couldn’t quite seem to pull himself together

“Sorry... Hi, Curtis... hi, guys...”

Lame. God. He needed to get it together again. He’d embarrassed himself plenty in front of all of them before. Coran shot him a sympathetic glance, Lance trying not to look at him

“Lance still a little exhausted. Heats are a lot, as our Rieva and Matt would know”

Keith had moved his chair a little away from Rieva, kind of like putting a wall between them. Rieva didn’t care. Rolling closer she placed her hand on his arm, leaning in to whisper softly

“I know how it feels after. Your body tells you to be disappointed, even if you’re relieved. You’re okay now. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. Matt and I know what it’s like to be wolves using contraceptives... you can talk to us about it. We’ve missed you”

Rieva kissed him on the cheek. She didn’t get it, but she kind of did. More than anyone else in the room. He guessed he hadn’t thought about the empty feeling for Rieva before. It must take a lot to keep their egos under control and not blame each other for not conceiving. He’d been trying not to think about it...

“Thanks...”

“You’re welcome, cute stuff... now I better roll, Keith looks murderous”

“Doesn’t he always when the coffee’s still kicking in?”

Matt snorted, Rieva smiling as she moved back to her boyfriend’s side. Keith tried to move closer to him, which wasn’t happening thanks to the chairs

“Babe?”

“I’m okay... tell you later”

Being stared at by everyone was uncomfortable as hell. Rieva had been trying to be kind, and she was, but he felt like he had too much attention. He didn’t want attention. His heat had happened and if they could kindly not be sitting there quietly judging, that’d be great

“Now, yes. Lance is...”

Ugh. If it wasn’t Curtis, it was Coran. People needed to stop fussing

“Exhausted and hormonal, and without his glasses. We get it. Coran, can we please just start?”

“I was simply... Ah, yes. I see how this might be embarrassing, but we are amongst friends here. Lance’s mood will bounce back as his hormone levels return to normal”

And there he went again. Lance wanted to slide under the table and die... permanently.

Clearing his throat, Keith drew everyone’s attention away from him, Lance scared for a moment that his boyfriend was about to snap at everyone for making Lance so self conscious

“Coran, I think we should move on. What happened doesn’t need to be discussed like this. We’ve already talked about it and this is supposed to be a briefing”

Keith standing up for him made him feel all glowy inside. His boyfriend didn’t hate him or blame him for the near miss. Coran was lucky Keith had caffeine slowly seeping into his system so hadn’t started yelling

“Very well then. Then I guess the first point to mention is that Blades of Marmora will be sending a team led by your mother to discuss our current situation and the recent arrival of Sendak in Platt. Sendak is a high ranking official working for Zarkon. Unfortunately it was his pheromones that caused Lance to react. A nasty piece of work that barely leaves Europe. The Blade’s wish to intercept and detain Sendak, to be prosecuted. Which places this place in an awkward situation as he reached out to inform us he was here to monitor Lotor’s actions”

Lance didn’t care why Sendak was there. Keith was all he cared about and Keith wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be told his mother was coming. He lacked enough coffee for a bombshell like that

“When will they arrive?”

His boyfriend’s tone was cold. Lance feeling like the hand holding his might burn him from how cold those words had been

“Friday coming. Four days from now”

“She’ll be here before that”

Across the table Shiro looked concerned. Matt hadn’t tried to joke either. Matt had probably heard from Shiro about Krolia

“Very well. I’ll be making preparations to house them here. They haven’t provided us with details of how long they’ll be here for, but the team they are sending is compromised of werewolves. I’m assuming you’ll be able to brief us on who we can expect”

Keith pushed his chair back, on his feet and moving towards the door before Shiro could half stand. Lance stood, if Keith was angry he didn’t want him taking it out on Shiro. They were both upright and moving, but they both had a head full of other thoughts. A near miss. A potential baby. Family Keith didn’t know how to have

“I’ll go”

Allura softly said his name

“Lance...”

“I’ve got this”

Catching up to Keith was easy. The idiot hadn’t gotten very far, having punched the very solid wall next to the door. Closing the door behind him, Lance crouched down beside Keith who was staring it his busted knuckles

“Wanna tell me?”

“I hit the wall”

“I can see that. Wanna come back to my room?”

Keith nodded, clearly overcome with his feelings and not knowing how to say what he wanted say

“Come here”

Keith didn’t want to be carried, Lance didn’t particularly care as he piggybacked his boyfriend back to his room. Setting Keith on the bed, Lance ruffled Keith’s hair

“You’re over thinking it”

“I stormed out the meeting”

“Okay. Yeah... but, we have had the mother of a last 24 hours. A potentially pregnant boyfriend. Me crying all the time. You barely caffeinated. Coran should have warned you ahead... ugh... this is probably what Shiro wanted to talk about... Now, we’re going to have a briefing of our own”

Lance counted on his fingers as he listed. Hoping Keith would find it funny.

Keith raised his head to look at him

“You’re not going to ask?”

Keith had been through enough. They’d been through enough for now. Skipping a second briefing wasn’t great, but that was too much to spring on Keith suddenly. They’d all been so quick to talk about him, but what about Keith was going through too?

“Babe. You’ve told me enough for me to know. I know work there wasn’t fun. I wouldn’t want to see the people who hurt me either. But you know, we don’t need them and their fancy werewolf squad. We’ve got our own squad. Shiro. You. Half-cursed Curtis. Two faes. Two werewolves and me. Half our squad knows this place better than any stinky Rome Wolves ever could. And we have the greatest person for advice in the Earth on our side. I’m going to grab a blood bag and your going to get your phone out”

Keith scrunched his brow up

“Why?”

“Because fuck today. Message Shiro and tell him you’re okay... because we’re going to be talking about it all”

Lance was feeling determined now... Determined to help Keith and give him back some of his confidence

“We’re going to have our briefing, mullet. You’ve got all the information on your phone. Now you missed out on what Rieva had to say... We’ll get some boards and markers and pens, and make our own investigation boards”

Keith snapped

“You’re not a hunter! You don’t know how this works! It’s not a fucking game. It’s not a joke. We’ve looked at this for weeks and now they’re coming in because none of our work was good enough! I fucked my mission to kill you. Can’t find a fucking serial killer. My mother barely acknowledges my existence. I’m just her son when she wants or when people want to point out all my fucking flaws! James and his werewolf pack made my life hell. I punched my old instructor so fucking hard I blinded him in one eye. I don’t know how to be good enough. Everything I could possibly do was never good enough there. Now they’re here. They’re coming here”

Keith had found his words.

“Yeah. Well, fuck them. They don’t fucking know my city. They don’t even know my boyfriend. I know I’m just a lawyer and probably a liability, but if they’re going to be arseholes, I’m going to enjoy working this out before them. People's lives are at danger. I don’t want that life, but I can sure as hell use these messed up senses of mine to work this the fuck out. If they can’t see you and your potential, then fuck them. As for your mum, I don’t know what to say about that, only she’s missing out on knowing the most amazing man. They treated you like shit, but here you have all of us. You have me. You have Shiro. You have Coran, Curtis, Allura, Rieva and Matt. Coran runs this place to help people. So we’re going to help. I want to help. We make a good team when we actually figure out how to talk. Now, get your phone out. I want to go through everything from the very beginning. All of it. Allura’s briefed me. I know what Rieva said. We’re going to work this out”

Lance’s ego may have flared, but Keith hating on himself pissed him off so much. Keith was a good guy. He was just awkward as hell and being bullied by coworkers wasn’t cool at all. He didn’t want to know the Blades if they let this shit happen.

Keith ran his hands through his hair, ignoring the way Kosmo was trying to get his attention

“Why are you so angry? They... I’m the one with the problem!”

His anger loaf was as bad a his

“I’m angry because you deserve to be respected and seen as you. Not Krolia’s son. Not Shiro’s little brother. You. I have a problem when people hurt my boyfriend. I know you and Shiro started again, but that’s the thing, you two are new here and your working your arses off to make those connections that Coran’s had for years. They’re not here because of the murder. They’re here because Loturd and Sendick dumped a heap of trouble in our fucking laps because there egos are so big they’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a human. Keeping hold of that human side is what keeps us sane. What keeps humans tucked up in their beds all safe and sound. You’re not a super hero, you’re Keith Kogane. And I very much appreciate you”

Lance’s stomach grumbled from the tea. Keith looked lost as he continued stared to up at him. Looking back down, Keith fisted his jeans, or tried to, fingers curling but the tight fabric didn’t move

“If... if you’re going to meet Krolia, I should... tell you more about her”

Now was not the time to throw up. Keith needed comfort. Sitting down beside him, he placed his hand over his boyfriend’s

“Okay. If you want to, that’s okay. Like you said, good or bad, I want to know”

“I don’t know how to start. She abandoned my father and I. She left us. She didn’t even come back when he died. I waited and I waited... until someone must have remembered I existed. I kept waiting... even after the funeral... I never saw his... I never saw him again. I... I had so many nightmares. So many dreams. I kept wondering what he must have been thinking about. Did he regret not seeing me again? Why didn’t he get out earlier? Why did it have to be him?”

Keith started to cry, Lance moving to draw him against him. Mornings were never friendly to his boyfriend. Two bad mornings in a row wasn’t fair

“I don’t know. I don’t know and it wasn’t fair. He deserved to be there to see the man you’ve grown into”

“I’m not a good man. I ran away. I stole. I ate out of garbage cans. Broke into places... I... dad had this place in the middle of nowhere I just wanted to get back there”

“Keith, I’m going to ask you a very important question. When you ran away. We’re you safe? Did you have the money for the things you needed? Or did you do what you had to do to keep living?”

“I...”

“No. You didn’t. You did what you had to. You were scared and alone”

“I was bad. I didn’t eat what they gave me. I told them I couldn’t have milk and they didn’t believe me. They thought I was faking being sick. I had nightmares. I was angry and done. I can’t even remember their faces anymore. I know there had to be good people. But I can’t remember their faces”

“You lost your dad. You were a kid and you had no one to support you like you needed”

Rubbing Keith’s arm, Lance didn’t know how to make up for all those years of pain. He was lucky he had his family, while Keith was trapped in a system that was way too overstretched as it was. Lance had major respect for the system when it worked. Not everyone knew how to help people, and sometimes trying only made these problems worse without meaning to.

“I thought... mum left because she regretted having me. She said it was to keep me safe, but she never came for me when I needed her. We can barely talk. I feel like I disappointed her by being alive”

Krolia was off the Christmas card list

“That’s not true! God. Babe. No. You’re human. We make mistakes. I’m not as perfect as you think I am or make me feel. You’re not a disappointment. Have she ever told you that? To your face?”

“No... but...”

He’d been told and knew exactly what that felt like. Not by his Mami though

“Trust me. I don’t think you are. I think you throw yourself head first into everything because you don’t want to lose anything else. I think we need to talk with your mum. I have a few choice words to say to her. I know I don’t understand because my life has been very different from yours, but I swear I don’t see a disappointment when I look at you”

“How can you not? I fucked your life up”

“You did, but you gave me something more. You gave me my first friendship that wasn’t because you worked here and because I had to hide myself. I don’t regret meeting you. Even when you wouldn’t listen to me about not being a vampire. I’d totally take having that same argument every day with you to spend more time with you”

He’d rather not have that argument. Keith had been denser than ill baked rolls

“Please don’t tell her... she’s going to think I’m so stupid. I think I’m stupid... I can’t believe I tried to drink blood”

Lance pressed half a dozen kisses to Keith’s hair. He might punch Krolia but that’d be about it... And he needed to have a stern word with Shiro. And another talk with Coran

“I’m not about to tell her. Okay. I need to throw up, and you need to clean that hand up. And we need cuddles... and chocolate. I know none of that is easy to talk about”

“I feeling pretty talked out”

“Then it’s definitely time for food and cuddles... and I need to message Curtis. We’ll need supplies. We’ll make a start on our own and then talk to the others”

“Can... can Shiro and Curtis... help?”

Keith wanted Shiro close and Lance couldn’t blame him, even if he was slightly sad he wasn’t enough for Keith at the moment

“Sure. Message Shiro. I want you to feel safe here. This room is a safe place for us. Zero judgment and anyone who judges gets a dick punch and sent into the hall”

“Babe, you can’t punch everyone in the dick”

“I can if they upset you”

“I don’t deserve you”

“Nah. You’re like the only one in the world to put up with me. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you. Now, we’ve got work to do”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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hi-there-buddies · 3 years

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I was looking through my google docs for nostalgia and I found the beginning of what looks like an angsty Lance Voltron Fanfic, so here you go I guess lol. I think it’s based around when Shiro wasn’t... yknow....Shiro? Like, after the second season finale.

Anyway, here you go: the beginning of an Evil Shiro and Lance angst fanfic:

As night fell upon the paladins of Voltron and their comrades, all but one fell into deep sleeps after a grueling day of madness and relief.

Shiro had finally returned to the Castle of Lions, escaping yet another Galra “capture”, if it could really be called that. As almost everyone got settled in with their original leader, they all went to their rooms satisfied and happy. Well, most of them, that is.

Lance had an undying loyalty to Shiro and Voltron, and he believed himself to be rather close to the team, but two things kept him awake that night, breathing heavily and holding back his emotions.

First, although Lance was glad Shiro was back, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was...off. Shiro literally just vanished after a major fight with Zarkon, only to finally come back with long hair, a beard, and torn up clothes, castaway style? On top of that, he had nearly no recollection of what happened before he escaped either. And, as heartless as it may sound, Lance believed if Shiro really had tried to escape from the Galra by himself, as he confessed to, he would certainly not make it a half a lightyear away before getting shot down by Galra tech or being recaptured. Everyone seemed to brush these facts off, but for some reason, Lance couldn't shake the weird feeling he got whenever he thought of the circumstances in which Shiro returned to them.

Second, since Shiro finally returned, he would have to go back to piloting the Black lion, right? And Lance was sure Keith would demand Red back, but he couldn't just take Blue away from Allura. They already had bonded and become so close, it wouldn't feel right to Lance if he just took her back. He also couldn't just hang around and help Coran, considering he knew next to nothing about the castle, Alteans, the Galra, or even the space region they were in. That only left one option for the misunderstood “hero”.

He would have to leave Voltron.

Lance hated the idea of being separated from his new family for even a couple quintants, but as he looked at his options, it was the one with the best effects for the rest of the team, even if it didn't quite work out in his favor.

Speaking of the rest of the team, as Lance sadly drifted into sleep, he could only think about the reactions of his “friends” as they found out he wouldn't be around anymore.

Shiro would be glad to have a better and more focused Blue Paladin.

Keith would be relieved that Lance wouldn't mess up anymore missions.

Hunk and Pidge would be happy to not have a selfish lowlife annoying them whenever they were working on new ideas, whether they be for the castle or cooking.

Allura would be ecstatic that the perv Lance is wouldn't be there to harass her anymore.

Coran would be able to be proud of the better, fully functioning, and new Voltron team.

As Lance continued to imagine what the others really thought of him, he realized he probably wouldn't be able to go to bed anytime soon. Lance slowly sat up and quickly wiped away the tears budding at his eyes, as if to fool himself that they were never there. He then slipped on some shoes and quietly started walking around in the halls of the gigantic castle.

‘Maybe a little water will help me sleep,’ Lance thought to himself as he tiredly made his way to the kitchen, which seemed weird when Hunk wasn't in it testing out new recipes. As he opened the weird Altean fridge, Lance couldn't help but cringe at the sight of nunvill, and quickly took a bottle of what looked to be sparkling water. If he remembered correctly, they had gotten the water from Olkarion the last time they had visited, and it seemed to be drinkable. Thankfully, after Lance’s first sip, he realized he was right, and nearly downed the whole bottle in a couple of giant gulps.

Once he finished his late night drink, Lance sighed with satisfaction and threw the bottle into the trash compactor. As he started to make his way back to his room, Lance suddenly remembered how easily lost he could get in the castle, so he decided to pay attention to the halls and take his time. This, however, did not go quite as planned once Lance started hearing footsteps behind him. He turned around, only to be greeted by the smiling face of his leader, Shiro. Lance was a little stunned Shiro was up so late, but he quickly brushed off the awkwardness in the room and decided to address his leader.

“Hey Shiro. It's been a while, hehe,” Lance shakily breathed out as the atmosphere between them got extremely uneasy and the Black Paladin’s smile slowly vanished, “anyway, what's keeping you up so late?”

All Shiro did was stare blankly into the Blue Paladin’s eyes, which set off something in Lance. Some sort of warning sign, that had been gnawing at Lance since Shiro returned, finally started screaming inside his head, telling him to run as fast as he could, for as long as he could, until he reached safety. Lance finally acknowledged this urge to flee, and decided to go with it.

“O-ok then...I'm gonna go if that's ok with you, bye!” Lance announced, as if he wasn't talking to a real person.

As Lance turned towards the halls again, he started walking, only to be interrupted by the former Galran prisoner.

“You're not going anywhere,” A malicious voice, sounding of death, told the now horrified Blue Paladin. This voice, whoever it belonged to, was not Human, Altean, or even Galran, and it certainly wasn't Shiro’s.

After the voice spoke, Lance could hear sudden loud and fast footsteps behind him. He didn't hesitate, look back, or trip as he bolted through the nearly labyrinth styled castle walls. Lance could hear his telltale heart beating inside his chest, as if it were going to explode. His running stayed consistent for a couple of moments, until he slowly and terrifyingly realized he had gotten lost.

As the thing behind him got closer, Lance grew more and more anxious. His head darted around the walls of the castle, making sure there was another path to go through. Finally, Lance managed to lose his so called leader. As he slowed down, his lungs felt inflamed and he rested onto the wall in front of him.

“Wait,” Lance started as he continued to hyperventilate. He stood up slowly and backed away from the wall, “that means-,”

“You've hit a dead end, Paladin,”

Oo cliffhanger. Well, more of “I stopped writing this just when it was getting interesting because school was going crazy”. I think I wrote this like 3 years ago, jeez. Anyway, hope you enjoy. If you guys like the prompt I might pick up where I left off, but I forget everything about voltron lol. The finale destroyed me (lance deserved BETTER)

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #vld #vld lance #vld shiro #vld evil shiro #voltron lance #voltron legendary defender lance #voltron shiro #voltron fanfic #vld fanfic #if you guys actually like this and want me to continue I might #imma have to rewatch voltron again tho lol #I literally have zero memory of writing this

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pftones3482 · 5 years

Text

I Think I Love You

Commission for @kriss-the-writing-nerd

Have all my commissions this week ended in wedding scenes? Yes. Do I care? No. Am I a sap at heart? Debatable. Under a cut for length. Enjoy!

“I got you a present.”

Keith blinked rapidly, moving his tired eyes away from the paperwork he was going over and looking up at Lance. He was shifting from foot to foot in Keith’s doorway, holding a box in his hands so delicately that, were it not Lance, Keith might have thought it was a bomb.

He was wearing pajamas, sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. The marks on his cheeks were glowing very faintly. In the light it might not have been noticeable, but it was late, so they were sparkling. It was a precious sight, one that made Keith’s heart flutter, but he forced his attention back to Lance and set down his reports from his mother.

“Why?”

Lance frowned, his hands dropping a little. “Well it…you and Hunk were off-world for your birthdays. I already gave Hunk his present, so I…I mean, it’s not really anything amazing, I made it, I just thought-”

“You didn’t have to do anything for that,” Keith said, soft. His lips parted and he glanced down at the box. His cheeks warmed a little. Obviously it wasn’t something special; he’d gotten Hunk a gift too, it wasn’t a Keith exclusive thing, but it didn’t stop the affection from rising in Keith’s chest nonetheless.

Lance stepped inside fully now, walking over to Keith’s bed and sitting gingerly on the edge like he was afraid Keith might kick him out. “Yes I did,” he snorted, pressing the box into Keith’s hands unceremoniously. “Like I said, it’s…nit’s nothing special. But I thought you might like it.”

Curious now, Keith untied the (red) ribbon from the package and set it on top of the reports. The flaps opened easily enough, and inside, nestled in (black) tissue paper, was a mason jar full of bright red jam. A piece of twine was wrapped around it, and dangling from the twine was a tiny wooden knife that was shaped suspiciously like Keith’s blade.

He pulled the jar out carefully, eyeing the label – strawberry rhubarb – and then fingering the knife, about the size of a butter knife. “You…made this?”

Lance’s cheeks were pink, his marks a little brighter. “Um…yeah? We make a lot of stuff o-on the farm, and I’m pretty good at jam, so I-”

“No, no,” Keith breathed. He looked up, eyes wide. “I mean, yes, that’s amazing, I haven’t had strawberries in forever and I’m sure the jam is…is amazing. I meant the knife.”

Lance’s tongue peeked out quickly as he licked his lips, so fast Keith barely caught it. It made his heart hammer. “Um…yeah. I uh…it’s something I picked up in my spare time. After everything. Woodworking is…relaxing. You can use it too, it’s meant to spread the jam.”

“It looks like mine.”

Lance’s smile was crooked, the glint in his eyes mischievous. “I know. Krolia helped me perfect it.”

Keith’s eyebrows shot up. “She was in on it? Dammit, Mom.”

Lance laughed and stood, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands and nodding at the door. “I should uh…I should let you get back to your reports,” he said, eyes flickering to the paperwork on the bed. “Night, Keith.”

Keith realized with a start that Lance was already stepping out the door. “Lance!” he piped, a little too loud. If he hadn’t had any remaining dignity, he might have slapped his hand over his mouth. Lance turned back, eyebrows lifted, and Keith sheepishly held up the jar. “Thank you.”

He poured as much sincerity as he could into the words and Lance’s shoulders drooped a little – whether in relief or disappointment, Keith wasn’t sure. “Of course.”

Lance shut the door softly as he walked out, leaving Keith with a jar of jam and a pounding heart.

“Surprise!”

Keith was lucky Lance wasn’t holding a knife. As it was, he whipped around, pinning the taller man to the wall in one swift move, arm pressed firmly against his throat and his other hand shoved against his cheek.

Dead silence, and then, slowly, Matt turned the living room light on. Keith held up his hands in slow surrender and Lance immediately dropped his stance, face shifting from pissed to surprised to sheepish. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Keith settled his hand on his throat, trying not to wince at the ache Lance had left. “Yeah, well…our fault.”

Lance finally turned around, his eyes widening and hands flying up to cover his mouth as he finally spotted the rest of the group, holding presents and cake. A “Congratulations!” banner dangled precariously from where Matt and Shiro had hung it over the dining room entrance. “What the quiznak?” he whispered.

Curtis’ smile was boyish, eyes twinkling as he slapped a manila envelope into Lance’s hands. “Lance Sanchez, you have been officially accepted to the Garrison as the new flight instructor for middle and high school students.”

Lance closed his hands around the folder in a daze, staring down at the envelope, at his name, and then back up at Shiro and Curtis. “I…I put in the application last week. Please don’t tell me you guys fast tracked it, I-”

Shiro set his hand firmly on Lance’s shoulder. “Of course not, Lance. But you’re an incredible pilot, you’ve flown in battle more than anyone outside of this room, and you’re great with kids. It was a no brainer. Iverson agreed.”

Curtis’ lips twitched. “He seemed peeved that he agreed.”

The group burst into laughter but Lance just stared down at the envelope, his lips parted in soft wonder. “Wow. Wow, I…wait, how long have you guys been planning this?” he demanded.

Pidge shrugged, finally setting down the cake Hunk had made her hold. “Just this afternoon. Shiro texted the rest of us after lunch, and Keith had pretty much all of this ready by the time we got here.”

Lance turned slowly to Keith, who was smiling sheepishly. “Weren’t you off world this week?”

Keith waved his hand in a so-so motion. “For a while. I was just on Mars, though, so I wasn’t far. Plus you leave your spare key in the same place all the time. It’s not hard to get in.”

“Yeah you really need a security upgrade,” Krolia agreed.

Lance looked back down at the envelope and Keith studied him, watched the way his fingers shook, how his throat bobbed. His teeth bit into his lip, smile starting to form, and then his whole body shuddered with a laugh. “Wow,” he croaked. “Um…um, when do I start?”

Shiro tilted his head in acknowledgement. “This fall, with the incoming class. It’ll give me and Iverson time to go over teaching regimens and planning with you before your first students. But hey, you’re basically famous. They’ll listen to you,” the man said, winking.

“Now come on, you guys,” Coran whined. “I’ve been smelling this quiznaking cake of Hunk’s all day, I would LIKE to eat it!”

Hunk whooped, scooped up the cake Pidge had abandoned, and led the group to the kitchen. Lance caught Keith’s sleeve as he passed, pulling him back. “You did all this…for me?” Lance whispered, searching Keith’s face carefully.

Keith forced himself not to react beyond a soft smile. Lance’s fingers burned through the fabric of his shirt. “Of course. You deserved it, you idiot. You put in so much work, and I – we all know how much you wanted this.”

Lance’s eyes flickered to where Shiro was handing Hunk a knife. “I feel like…I feel like I didn’t earn it,” he said, even softer.

Keith turned to block his vision of the others. Emotions be damned, he reached out and grabbed Lance’s hand by the fingers. He squeezed. “If anyone deserves it, it’s you,” he murmured, waiting until Lance looked at him again before speaking. “You helped save the planet, you lost people really close to you, you-”

“That happened to you guys, too,” Lance protested. He slid his hand away from Keith’s and pulled it to his chest, curling his free one over it. “I wasn’t the only one.”

Keith tilted his head. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It did happen to us. But we all have what we want.”

He laughed, glancing back at the dining room, where Pidge was now arguing with Hunk about whatever piece of cake she was getting. “Pidge got her family back and is working intergalactically with some of the smartest beings we’ve ever met. Hunk is a galaxies wide famous chef and diplomat. Shiro and Curtis are married and travelling the world helping at risk LGBT kids and also teaching in their spare time. Coran got his home planet back and is happy with Iverson – as totally weird as I find that. You absolutely deserve this.”

“What about you?”

Keith started, looking back at Lance in surprise. He was staring at him curiously, shaggy hair hanging in his eyes. “What?”

He shrugged. “What about you? You named everyone else. What about you? Did you get what you wanted?”

His eyes swam with the depths of the oceans, glinted with the reaches of the stars. His skin was warm, this close, and being this near him, being here, ached. Ached beyond words. Keith felt his mouth go dry and his heart race. He looked back to the dining room. Shiro and Krolia were speaking now, soft, watching him worriedly. He gave them a tentative smile before turning back. “I uh…yeah. Yeah. I got my mom. I have Shiro. I…”

He trailed off, fumbling for the words. Refused to let the wrong ones slip from his lips. He couldn’t. He couldn’t lose him. “I have you guys,” he finally settled on, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I got…a family I never had. Friends I never had. I work with an amazing group of aliens. I…yeah.”

His stomach rolled as Lance’s head tilted in a miniscule way. “Friends, hmm?” he said.

And he was smiling, but there was something there, something Keith couldn’t place even while he nodded. “Yeah. You guys are pretty okay, most of the time,” he tried to tease.

Lance’s lips whitened as he pressed them together, nodding. “Okay,” he hummed. “Thanks, Keith.”

He brushed past him, and Keith was left feeling like he’d messed everything up.

“You okay?”

Keith looked up as Pidge sat down next to him, her hands fidgeting with a piece of tech that Keith was sure he couldn’t even begin to understand. He hummed and looked back out over the Altean juniberry fields, watching as Hunk and Lance chased Lance’s niece and nephew through the flowers. It was their first visit to Altea, Christmas 4 years after the war, and they had asked Keith to join them on their trip.

He’d declined, preferring to watch from a distance. Being around Lance…hurt, sometimes. Especially on Altea. Especially on the holidays.

“You got it bad, huh?”

Keith choked on air, looking sideways at Pidge through the fringe of hair in his eyes. Her smile was sympathetic but her eyes glimmered with mirth. “What?” he managed.

Pidge shrugged, setting her tech aside and crossing her legs under her. Her green sweater looked ridiculously comfortable. “Come on, I’m ace, not blind,” she said with a roll of her eyes. A pause, and then she tapped her glasses frames. “Though I guess you could argue that point. You’re crushing so hard on Lance it’s kind of disgusting.”

Keith’s gut rolled and he looked down, fingers tightening on each other. He hadn’t told anyone but Shiro about his crush, though he knew that Krolia had seen some of the flashbacks of him crushing on the space whale. She’d never brought it up, and Shiro had stopped asking unless Keith spoke first. It was somewhat uncomfortable, hearing it from someone else. Like he was creepy and just…just wrong.

“Hey.”

He swallowed and let his gaze flicker back to Pidge, who was watching him with open concern. She scooted closer, bumping their knees and leaning on him. He sighed and edged his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his body and pressing a soft kiss to her head. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

Keith’s heart lurched in his chest as he watched Lance tackle Nadia and hold her down, tickling her sides until she shrieked. His smile was wide. “Yeah.”

His breathing stuttered and Pidge lifted her hand, twining their fingers together. “So talk. To him.”

Keith shook his head once, his cheek scratching against Pidge’s scruffy hair. “I don’t…I don’t want to ruin what we have. I’d rather…”

He sighed and dropped his forehead against Pidge’s hair. She hummed, the sound vibrating her whole body, and tightened her grip on his hand. “You’d rather keep what you have and hurt yourself than lose him all together. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Pidge nodded and then twisted, climbing into his lap. She was much bigger now than she had been during Voltron times, but she still fit comfortably against Keith’s chest, lanky arms curling around his torso and nose tucked against his neck. “Talk to him,” she said again, softer. “I promise you it’ll be okay.”

Keith hugged her back, feeling like his entire heart was going to be ripped from his chest. “You can’t possibly know that,” he said, still tracking Lance and Hunk’s escapades through the flower fields.

“I can. I’m a genius, remember?”

At Keith’s scoff, she pulled back from their hug, looking up at Keith with a smile. “Hey. Man, I’m like, the least sappy person I know aside from maybe you. But you’ve been so gooey the last couple months it’s driving me nuts. He totally likes you, you’re blind not to see it.”

She tapped her glasses again. “And I’m blind. I’d know.”

Keith snorted and shifted his legs until Pidge’s back was against his chest, his arms settled loosely over her hips and his chin on her head. She fiddled with the cuffs of his red Christmas sweater Hunk had gotten him. “I won’t push you,” she said, her voice lost to the wind. “But think about it, okay?”

“You didn’t hang mistletoe up in the house, did you?” he asked, a warning tone in his voice. “I know you were helping Coran decorate.”

“Oh we totally did,” Pidge confirmed, laughter in her words. “But it’s mostly just plastered around Shiro and Curtis’ room. You didn’t answer me.”

Keith fell silent, tightening his grip on her and sighing. “I…I’ll think about it,” he finally agreed.

Pidge leaned back against him, warm and smelling like fire and cinnamon. “Thanks,” Keith mumbled after a moment. “For not…”

“I’d never,” and her voice was the most serious he’d heard it in a long time. “Never. That’s for you. When you’re ready.”

Down in the field, Lance looked up, face lighting up when he saw the two of them cuddling on the hillside. He lifted his hand and waved like a maniac. Pidge snickered and waved back, elbowing Keith until he lifted a tentative hand too. “You’re in love with such a dork, you know that?”

His smile came unbidden. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Lance found Keith on the roof of the family barn, watching the stars as if he hadn’t spent the last six – or 8, depending on how you looked at it – years flying through them. He climbed the trellis up, getting a glance at his approach, and sank down next to him, wrapping his arms around his knees. For a while they sat in silence, listening the wind coil around them and the crickets chirping in the distance.

“You’re going soon, then?”

Keith had been on planet for the last several weeks, since Easter, and all Lance knew was that he wasn’t staying at the farm forever. Which…part of him kind of wanted him to, even though he knew that Keith was doing important missionary work on other planets.

“Mm-hmm.”

Lance hesitated. When it came to Keith, he was at a loss. Hunk usually needed cuddling and hugs and long talks to work out his problems. Pidge used the rubber duck solution for scientific problems and quiet cuddling for emotional ones. Allura had been a mixture.

But Keith…was a mystery. Lance knew he openly talked about his feelings with Shiro and sometimes Pidge or Krolia, but never him. It stung, in a way. But it didn’t mean he was going to stop trying.

“Are you okay?”

Keith drew his knees closer to his mouth. Lance stayed quiet, knowing that sometimes pestering didn’t help people talk. He kept his eyes off him, too, watching only from his peripheral. Keith opened his mouth once, twice, closed it again and kept it shut. After a long, agonizing few minutes, he finally spoke.

“Do you ever feel…” Keith faltered, fingers physically opening and closing to find the word. “Like you’re not…I don’t know, in the right place?”

Lance tilted his head, leaning it on his knees. “Mentally or physically?”

Keith kept his eyes turned to the sky. “Maybe both?”

“Mm, yeah, sometimes. I think everyone does. Do you…feel that way?” he asked, trying not to pry too deep.

Keith’s lips pursed and Lance found himself tracing the shape of them with his eyes while he waited. “Kind of,” Keith said, licking his lips. “I…I love what I do. I love the people we help. But lately I’ve…”

He trailed off, and with a tug on his heart, Lance realized he was crying. He sat upright, eyes wide and mouth falling a little, but forced himself not to move. “You?”

Keith’s chin quivered. “I feel like…” His voice cracked. “I guess I’m homesick. But I don’t…I don’t even know what to call home. If it exists.”

His whole body shook and it took everything in Lance’s willpower to not scoot over and hug him until he couldn’t breathe. “My mom is…she’s so important to me. And I love her. And I feel at home with her. But it’s not…I lied. To you.”

Lance’s heart skipped. “What?”

“Last year, when you got the job,” Keith whimpered, pressing his hands to his face, and everything be damned, Lance scooted closer. “I told you…I told you I had what I wanted. I lied. I don’t know what I want, I just know that I want-”

He cut himself off, wary, eyed Lance like he was afraid he would laugh. His cheeks were red, Lance assumed from crying. “I want more,” he croaked out, voice wavering.

Lance let himself move in, wrapped Keith in the tightest hug he could muster. “That’s okay,” he whispered, carding his fingers through his hair as Keith clung to him. He swallowed, shutting his eyes. “You don’t have to know. It’s okay.”

“Please don’t leave,” Keith pleaded, his grip tight on Lance’s shoulders. “Please.”

Lance’s heart lurched and if he could have physically held Keith closer, he would have. “I won’t. Quiznak, of course I won’t, dude. You’re- you always have a home here. I promise.”

Holding Keith, listening to his shaking sobs and watching him break into pieces, Lance realized with a clarity he hadn’t had in a long time that at some point during the last five years, he’d fallen head over heels for the original red paladin.

“I think I love you. I think…I think I love you. I love you. I think-”

“Lance! Come on, ten minutes until the march!”

Lance huffed and pressed his hands against the wall on either side of the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, slicked back hair, dark blue tie and black suit, a shockingly pretty orange rose pinned to his lapel. “Yup. Yup, I’m coming Hunk.”

The door opened behind him and Lance met Hunk’s eye in the mirror. Matching suit, though with a yellow tie, hair pulled back into a ponytail. He eyed him, frowning. “You okay dude?”

Lance rubbed a hand over his jaw, pushing away from the wall. “I don’t know. I want…I don’t know.”

Hunk shut the door behind him slowly, leaning against it and studying Lance. “It’s not the wedding, is it?”

Lance shook his head. “No, but you’re right, we have to get out there for the march. I can deal with it later. This isn’t the place.”

“For what?”

Hunk moved aside as Lance grabbed the doorknob. He didn’t turn it though, just held it. Pondering. “I want to tell him,” he said quietly.

Hunk was silent for a second. “Oh. Oh my god, dude, yes!”

“But I don’t…I don’t know how. And I shouldn’t…I really shouldn’t do it here. Not at a wedding, I mean, that seems super selfish, right, that’s selfish? That’s totally selfish, I couldn’t do that to Coran, I-”

“Bro,” Hunk chuckled, gripping his shoulders gently. “No, it’s not. I mean, okay maybe if you do it during the ceremony or make a big deal out of it, but you’re not gonna do that. It’ll be fine. I’ll be here the whole time, so will Pidge, and Shiro, everyone. You got this.”

Shay popped her head in the room, lifting an eyebrow. “If you two are done, you are two of the main four stars of this show, and we would LOVE for you to be out there.”

“Sarcastic much, babe?”

“It seems to be the easiest way to get humans to actually do things.”

“Touché.”

Lance wasn’t sure how Alteans did weddings, but Coran’s vows were LONG as HELL. And then Iverson’s were just as long, and weirdly sappy (the man had grown on Lance a lot since his original Garrison days, but he was still a scary dude when he needed to be, so this was just a whole change of pace). The reception afterwards was lovely. Lance ate, avoided Keith, danced some more, drank way too much, and towards the end of the night downed his last glass of wine and stumbled outside.

“You’re not driving, are you?”

He turned to find Keith sitting there, red tie loose around his neck and jacket crumpled next to him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which Lance found unfairly hot. “Because I can drive you home, if you need.”

Lance shook his head, stumbling and sitting next to Keith with minimal falling. “No. No, I’m not…no driving. I’m not…I’m not stupid. I mean I am but like…not like that.”

Keith’s lips twitched in amusement. The air around them was cold, and it was helping to dull the alcohol in Lance’s system, easing the slight throbbing in his head. “You okay?” he asked. He was warm as hell.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Keith assured him. “A lot of people. I was getting overstimulated.”

Lance frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. “I can go.”

“No,” Keith said, quick. He flushed at Lance’s curious gaze and shrugged, glancing away. “You’re fine. It’s not bad when it’s someone I…I mean…”

“I think I love you.”

Lance’s eyebrows furrowed as Keith whipped his head around, mouth gaping like a fish, until his words caught up with his brain. He clapped a hand over his mouth, swallowing. “S-Sorry, sorry, shit, that’s not-”

“Lance.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, hand still on his face. The world felt like it was spinning around him, suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. Keith’s voice was gentle when he spoke. “Lance, are you just that drunk? Or-?”

The second time was easier. “I love you,” Lance breathed, letting his hands fall into his lap and his eyes open. He stared at the pavement, his mouth dry. “I wanted to tell you…for a while. But I…it was never the right time.”

A pause. “How long?” Keith asked, soft.

Lance licked his lips. “Thinking back on it? Since I almost got sucked out into space through the air lock. That’s…I mean, that’s when it started. It didn’t really hit me until a couple months ago.”

Silence. Lance shut his eyes again. “I’m sorry, I made it weird, I-”

“You didn’t make anything weird, Lance,” Keith whispered, and his voice was closer now. Lance cracked an eye open to see Keith facing him, a knee dragged up under him on the bench. His hands settled on Lance’s leg. “You have…no idea how long I’ve loved you.”

A breath that Lance didn’t know he’d been holding shuddered out of him and he surged forwards, hand sliding up Keith’s jaw and tangling in his hair, dragging his lips against his and trying to remember how to breathe through his nose as they kissed.

Keith’s fingers closed around Lance’s tie, tugging him closer, until he was practically sitting in Keith’s lap on the tiny bench. He gasped into his mouth, pulling back, and Lance blinked twice, dragging a thumb over Keith’s skin to swipe at a tear. “What’s wrong?” he whispered, anxiety settling in his gut.

Keith huffed a laugh, letting his forehead fall to Lance’s shoulder, hands moving to cradle him in a hug. “I’ve just wanted this for so long. It doesn’t feel like…like it’s real.”

Lance reached back and tangled their fingers together, pulling Keith’s right hand up to his chest and settling it over his pounding heart. “It’s real. I promise you, I’m real. This is real.”

He pressed a soft kiss to Keith’s forehead. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Keith snorted. “Me too.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

“Absolutely.”

#klance #my writing #klance fanfiction #voltron #writing commissions #vld #lance #keith #hunk #pidge #shiro #coran #im all in on the coriverson ship now beep beep motherfuckers #lol thank you for commissioning me again fam i love your prompts

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violetrance · 6 years

Text

I'm seeing a lot of people annoyed that Klance shippers are downplaying that recent Allurance moment in the clip & to compare it to the bonding moment is a reach etc. So I feel the need to explain/clear up why that moment is possibly hinting at A LOT, and why so many people are making a big deal out if it.

1. Lance has a crush on Allura. This has been known since day one, it is obvious. He has a clear infatuation with her and it has been shown throughout the course of the show. So some people immediately assume that he will end up with Allura. That’s fair, because what we’ve explicitly seen in canon is that he likes her. But what about Allura? We’re always talking about Lance’s feelings towards her and they’ve had some nice, genuine moments together, but she still as of now has not showing any romantic interest in Lance. If you compare her growing development and interactions with Lotor, they are very different to what she portrays towards Lance. Every time Lance makes a move on her, she’s either turned off or has no reaction to it. Now I’m not saying she can’t develop possible feelings for him as they go along, but it’s been five seasons going on six and we still have seen no indication that she feels that way. Which brings me to my next point.

2. In the most recent clip, Lance is clearly acting flustered towards her, saying ‘We make a great team.” But what is Allura’s reaction it? Nothing. She literally just brushes it off and says “Let’s go Lance.” So they can proceed with their mission. It’s obvious, even now, that Allura is not interested in Lance like that. Also, going back to my first point. Yes, Lance does have a crush on Allura, you can tell he genuinely likes her. That’s normal, it makes sense. But why does that make everyone immediately assume they’ll end up together? Crushes are apart of life, they come and go. Unless he’s in love with her and she feels the SAME WAY towards him, there can be no established relationship. Lance has literally said in his vlog, that even though Allura is great he’s not ready to settle down just yet because there are plenty of fish in the sea. Well???

3. No matter what you choose to believe, that scene and the scene Lance has with Keith during their bonding moment are meant to parallel each other. It’s just the truth. But you need to analyze the blatant contrast of the scenes and how they’re set up, the aftermath too to understand their impact. It was purposeful, it was done to show how Allura and Keith feel towards Lance, but how he feels towards them too. It doesn’t matter which way you look at it, the bonding moment was meant to be intimate, it was romantically coded. It literally parallels a scene shared with Hunk and Shay only a bit before, it’s PURPOSEFUL. If Lance says “I think we make a great team.” to Allura to show affection, what is making people believe that he didn’t do the same thing towards Keith?? If you compare Allura and Keith’s individual reactions to these moments, you will blatantly see what the show runners are trying to display.

Lance blushes and get’s flustered towards Allura, claiming they make a good team. Her response is not really acknowledging the advance like she usually does, but instead continuing to go about the mission.

Keith and Lance are holding each other’s hands, exchanging soft smiles and looks basked in purple mood lighting w/ slow music in the bg. Lance claims they are a good team, Keith smiles obviously happy. When Lance says he forgets the bonding moment, this intimate moment between them. What is Keith’s response? He’s offended, says that he held him in his arms like that’s supposed to change something? Not to mention how impatient he was to get Lance out of the pod before. Are you really trying to tell me he didn’t develop a crush on Lance after that moment??? Don’t even get me started on s3 and other past moments that further proves this. Also the head writer of the show literally saying Lance pretended to forget the bonding moment because he wasn’t emotionally ready to face it?? If that was just a platonic moment between two buddies, would they really make it that deep? No, not at all.

Lance using those lines as a way to show affection towards both Allura AND Keith, literally shows he has feeling for the both of them. He has shown the same infatuated expression for Allura towards Keith before. They are literally similar to each other in many aspects, so he has a blatant type. Jeremy has hinted at his milkshakes bringing EVERYBODY to the yard, meaning he most likely is not straight. He’s said that something happens between two characters in terms of LGBT rep. So that means a relationship, who has been basically confirmed to have an end game romance? Lance. And if he has feelings towards both Allura AND Keith, you can basically do the math towards who he’ll possibly end up with.

The only difference between them is: Allura does not have romantic feelings for Lance, but Keith does. Now I’m not saying this about Allura to pin her as some sort of bad guy, because this is normal behaviour. You do not always have to reciprocate someone’s feelings, she still obviously genuinely cares for him as a person and a friend regardless. But it is obvious, that she does not like him like that.

3. To go further, there was a newer review for season 6 that mentioned Allura and Lotor’s closeness and growing relationship has more than one consequence over the course of the season. It leads to some REVELATIONS for another character, which feels like a natural step forward on their personal journey. It’s extremely obvious they are talking about Lance. The creators also emphasised that his personal journey has something to do with respect, and rather than being a ladies man and obsessing over flirting etc, it’s about being a good team member & appreciating a person.

Unless they’re mentioning something else, I would not be surprised if the consequences coming between Lotor and Allura’s growing relationship, is Lance’s one sided crush on Allura. Allura likes Lotor, Lotor likes Allura, it’s obvious that they have feelings for each other. Their interactions are probably the most blatantly romantically coded I’ve seen on this show. Last season you could tell this affected Lance a bit and he was kind of having trouble coming to terms with their relationship. This season, I do genuinely believe that Lance is going to officially move on from his crush/infatuation w/ Allura. He is not very fond of Lotor, but if he sees or knows how Allura feels about him, that perspective will change. He cares a lot about Allura, he wants her to be happy. Lance is the type of person who will go out of his way for others so they can be happy or comfortable, even if it affects him. We’ve seen this side of him more as the seasons go along, because he’s starting to mature more. That’s why he supported Keith so much when he became the leader, even though it was difficult for him. That’s why he comforted and supported Shiro a lot last season, even though he was probably afraid/nervous since he’s been changing so much.

Him accepting the fact that Allura has feelings for Lotor instead of constantly flirting with her or being jealous, will be a step forward for him. In the end, she’s just a crush not the love of his life. There are other people out there like he said. If they do decide to make him confess his love for her though, it would not make any sense for his personal journey. It would not help him grow as a person, because in the end she still would not have romantic feelings for him. So he’d probably get rejected and be forced to move on anyways. Also if the consequences for Lotura and Allura’s relationship is different, I honestly do not believe or hope that they don’t, write her character to turn around & jump ship to Lance if she gets her heart broken. I personally do not think they will make her character that way, because she’s had so many different love interests but so far she’s only found a connection with one. Her immediately falling in love with Lance if everything possibly falls apart with her and Lotor, would be poor writing in my opinion and be very cliche. Allura and Lance are both strong characters, and they deserve to be written as such in terms of their characteristics. Lance making the decision to put his crush on her behind him so that she can be happy and he can grow as well, will be a really amazing and important lesson for kids especially watching.

4. This is just my opinion on the parallels of those scenes and where I possibly think Lance’s storyline with Allura is going. Honestly all that I’ve written could be wrong, because we have no idea what’s going to happen in the future. But if you look at this from a realistic stand point, it just makes the most sense. I also don’t like seeing people downplay Allura and Lance’s relationship because it is very sweet, but at the same time to assume that they’re going to end up together just because Lance likes her alone is unrealistic. And people might think I’m being Klance biased or that I shouldn’t be assuming Allurance’s relationship if I don’t ship them. But you don’t have to be a shipper, to see the probable direction that this show is going in. All of the facts and info are right in our face, we just need to pay attention. The show paralleling those two scenes, is showing us something really important and it isn’t a reach to assume so. Not to mention, this is not the first time they’ve paralleled scenes in this context towards Keith and Lance. It isn’t an accident anymore, it never was, everything that they’re doing is intentional.

#Sorry for such a long post but I think it's worth the read HSHSH #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender

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headspacedad · 6 years

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When you really think about it, Shiro's feelings toward the Clone don't make any sense if he has Kuron's memories like the EPs said he does. If he did then he would realize how confused and scared Kuron was, how unaware and worried for his team he was because he wasn't acting like 'himself'. Shiro, by having those memories, should know better than anyone how Kuron felt and yet he still calls him 'Evil Clone' in the only instance Kuron is brought up ins s7. Just wtf?

I got the distinct impression from the interviews that came out after the clone saga went down that the EPs were surprised to hear anyone cared about the clone. Which is strange considering how hard the story itself worked to get us to adore the clone. His struggle to win Black’s trust again for the sake of his team in danger, vulnerability admitting his confusion to Lance and his stint during the M&M episode were emotional and endearing (though the EPs referred to him as boring and uncreative and said they wanted to make fun of that in that episode (which honestly tells you alot about how badly they misjudged how people would react to him being such a sincere dork)). Even in the final fight, the story told you how hard he fought Haggar, how much it hurt him and, once his arm was gone, how broken and lost and confused he sounded when he said Keith’s name. And yet - the story also had him as a disposable body for Shiro to get vacuumed into and never once acknowledged how horrifying the implications of that is and how little was done to figure out if the clone’s awareness was still in there. I could be wrong but the EPs answering that it was a mind merge and brushing over it like it was no big deal doesn’t sound like something they had to stay up long and hard to think about and decide about the moral ramifications of and what makes a human a human and all the tangles that go with that. They just got caught off guard the fandom actually still cared about the clone despite also being glad to have Shiro back and the moral implications that were brought up needed a quick fix solution so - oh, its fine, they just share memories now.

Hence why it was never addressed in the actual story. Because no one, when it was being written far in advance, on the writing team cared and no one thought anyone else would either even after we’d had the clone as one of our team for four seasons.

I’m not happy with it. I’m a little horrified with it if I think about it too hard and the clone’s body rejecting Shiro in the first episode of seven takes on all kinds of new shades if the clone’s awareness was still inside (which wasn’t what was indicated and frankly, a missed story opportunity as well as a missed chance to tell us what had happened to the clone’s conscious). I’ll still take it because it means (unless we’re writing an AU that ends better) that the clone isn’t entirely gone and frankly we’ve got amazing fic writers here that can dig right into this and really turn out something amazing.

But the writers lack of awareness that anyone would care about the clone would mean that the ‘merge’ idea hadn’t even come up yet and ‘evil clone’ line was what they assumed the entire audience would view him as instead of the manipulated, tortured, trying, sincere, honest clone we do. (also the implications that Shiro is completely interchangeable because why would the audience care if they lost a version of him they’d had for four seasons? might say something about the way the EPs view Shiro too.....)

but lets fix it. We’ve got no in-story answer so we are completely free to either make up our own or use what the EPs gave us and none of it is going to go against the story canon. I’d like to recommend starting with szzzt-captain’s fic because its a really good place to start. The clone deserved better - and by gum, we’ll give it to him.

#vld spoilers #voltron #vld #kuron #operation kuron #all shiros are good shiros #Anonymous

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theprodigypenguin · 6 years

Text

Look Back at Me

Pairings: Jeith/Jaith (James Griffin and Keith Kogane)

Day one of @jamesandkeith week: Competition/Co-operation/Confessions

Notes: While brainstorming this fic, I realized that normally it's James who confesses his feelings, so I decided to put my own personal spin on the confession trope. I hope you all enjoy!

Day One / Day Two / Day Three / Day Four / Day Five / Day Six / Day Seven / Day Eight

Ratings/Warnings: fluff, angst, somewhat sweet ending

Read it on Ao3 as well!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started off as something trivial and pointless, an insignificant sense of admiration born of attention he never received otherwise. Keith was quiet, his eyes were set in an almost constant glare, he chased people away just with his presence. People thought he was weird, and hardly gave him so much as a chance to prove he was more than just some emo kid. No one took him seriously, no one ever addressed him formally, even the principal just talked about him as if he were nothing but a discipline case.

Then there was James Griffin. He didn't see Keith as a quiet emo, and was the only one who ever tried to get through to him. He seemed to take Keith's quiet and withdrawn composure as a challenge, Keith still remembered one of his first days at the school, when they were both still so young, how James quickly assessed Keith's loner status before pointing at him and announcing that they were going to be friends one day whether Keith liked it or not.

Of course that didn't turn out as well as James planned. Keith just kept pushing him away, side lining his attempts at reaching Keith. Even so, he was the only one back then who ever used Keith's name, ever addressed him as "Keith" and not "that emo kid", or "discipline issue", or "pity case", and somehow that stuck with Keith. They weren't friends by any stretch, but Keith held enough respect for James to not outright dislike him.

There were certainly bumps in their acquaintanceship, in their time knowing each other, like the way he lashed verbally at Keith and earned a fist in the face for his trouble, but it steadied after that incident. They passed more pleasant words to each other when they caught each others eyes, even taking the time to give each other advice regarding the simulators and assigned homework.

It never reached anything further than leaning towards each other during classes they shared and whispering idle conversation, "Do you have an extra pencil?" "Stop forgetting your supplies, Keith." It was enough, and Keith found himself slowly, ever so slowly free falling through emotions he wasn't familiar with. A warmth in his chest had sparked and slowly began to overwhelm all his other sensations.

Whenever James would look at him in passing, offer a little nod of acknowledgement, Keith's breathing would hitch in his throat, and he'd have to find an open window to calm down and breathe again. There were two or three times when Keith was passing his homework up to James who sat in front of him in their fighter class, where their fingers would brush accidentally. Keith would start to shake, his hand uncomfortably warm, but after the fourth time, he started to search for that hint of a touch, purposely shoving his hand against James' when passing work up.

None of the emotions made any sense, especially for someone who'd been hiding from said emotions since the moment his father's casket had been lowered into the unforgiving desert ground. Feeling things just hurt him in the end, he didn't want anything to do with them, but now it was like nothing else mattered. He felt, in his heart and his head, he felt when his hand brushed across James'. He felt fucking annoyed, that was for damn certain.

It got so bad that Keith relented in his suffering and reached out to the one person he could. Though it was difficult to get out, sitting in the dirt and sand with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms wound around his legs, chin sitting on top of his knees.

"I feel sick to my stomach whenever he's around," he started, lifting his hands to stare at his fingers, "My palms get hot and my fingers tingle and shake. My head gets all light and airy. It's really uncomfortable. My chest gets really tight and my heart beats too fast, enough that I feel like I'm dying or something."

"Hah, I see," Shiro was sitting beside Keith, legs crossed and arms folded across his chest, eyes closed in something like amusement, only proved by the slight upturn of his lips, "Well, I think I can diagnose your symptoms, but you might not like what the doctor prescribes."

"Do I look ten to you?" Keith asked, stretching his legs out and leaning forward to glare up at the pilot beside him, "If you know what's wrong with me, tell me, and tell me how to make it stop, because it's annoying me."

"I gotcha," Shiro assured, turning and holding a hand up with his index pointing at Keith, "I diagnose you with severe crush disorder. I prescribe you confessing your feelings and maybe asking him out."

Keith's jaw dropped and he choked on his tongue for a clumsy moment before managing to make out words, "You want me to fucking what?!"

Shiro laughed when Keith threw a punch into his shoulder, "Okay listen. That breathless feeling you get when you're around him, that's how it started with me when I started to notice my feelings for Adam. I'll say this once. You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you breathless like that. Take a chance, don't wait until you think you're ready, because by then it might be too late. You know you like him, right?"

Keith couldn't seem to find the right words, just stumbled over strange noises of confusion and disagreement. Really though, the fact he couldn't even deny it was pretty telling on its own. Shiro wasn't wrong, Keith liked James, and it only took half a day of contemplation to come to the same "diagnosis" that his friend had.

Acting on that realization, on the other hand, was something entirely different. What was Keith even supposed to say? He wasn't good at expressing himself, he wasn't good at handling emotions at all, but what Shiro said stuck with him. If he waited until he was ready, then he could be too late.

Keith tried several approaches, all of which ended up failing. He wrote his confession on a post it note that he stuck to James' textbook when he wasn't looking, but he forgot to sign his name. At one point he even wrote all his admiration into a letter and stuck in under the door jam leading into James' dorm, but he didn't even know if James had gotten that, or if his roommate had swiped it as a joke.

He did everything aside from verbally confessing his feelings, because the one time he tried, he nearly had a panic attack, choking on his breath before darting away. The fact James actually looked concerned for Keith's sudden unexplained freak out made it even more difficult to get the words out. So he just didn't, and he kept them to himself.

Though he did occasionally leave little notes for James, occasionally sticking flowers into his book bag when he left it unsupervised. It was enough to keep his wild emotions in check for the time being while he practiced confessing in the bathroom mirror, over and over again until his roommate told him to shut up and go to bed.

He was almost ready, almost, until Shiro's warning of waiting too long and losing his chance came to pass. The Kerberos mission, watching the launch, Shiro's absence made Keith sick with worry. Everyone noticed of course, that Keith was being far quieter than was normal for him, wasn't getting into fights, was keeping to himself, even turning homework assignments in on time.

James tried to ask him about it, asked if he was okay, and though he certainly wasn't the first to ask, he seemed to be the first who actually cared. Keith reassured him he was okay, and in that moment he was even ready to tell James everything, how worried he was about his friend, but how he was grateful James was reaching out to him; that he liked him, a lot.

Instead, another road block made itself known in the form of pilot error, and Keith's world fell out from under him. He didn't mean to punch Iverson, really he didn't, but the building stress of losing his one and only friend, the one person who seemed to give a damn about him, coupled with the Garrison officers constantly repeating pilot error, pilot error, was too much to bear.

He was booted, of course, and had nothing but the clothes on his back to take with him when he walked out the front door of the Garrison. It was evening, all the cadets were in their dorms, they wouldn't hear of his expulsion until the next morning. Keith didn't expect to see anyone outside, but there was someone standing at the gate, and the orange of their uniform revealed they were a cadet. It wasn't until Keith was almost on top of them that he recognized who it was, and by then they'd picked up on the sound of Keith's footsteps, head rolling to the side to eye him off.

There was no surprise at seeing Keith there, but there was something along the lines of disappointment, and Keith hesitated, not speaking a single word as they just stared at each other. After a short moment, James turned his head away to look back at the horizon and the sun setting in the far distance.

"So they booted you?" he asked, and Keith dropped his head, hunching his shoulders defensively, his right hand clinging to the strap of the duffel bag on his back, "Yea, I... kind of overheard the teachers talking when I was in the library."

"It's past curfew, isn't it?" Keith asked, "You should be in your room already."

James hummed, not meeting Keith's eye as he dropped his arms from where he'd folded them across his chest, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and searching around before pulling out a folded piece of paper. He stared down at it before carefully unfolding it, but continued to stay silent as he flicked the edge of it.

"Listen, Keith... maybe I can talk to Iverson for you. You're at the top of the class, all of the classes, they'd be crazy to get rid of you like this," he tore his eyes from the paper to look over at Keith, "Besides, I kind of owe you, you know? For that thing..."

Keith swallowed down the lump in his throat, shaking his head, "You know what I'm like. Nothing's going to change if I stay here. I have to leave...," he felt his entire body chill, "There's nothing left for me here, or on Earth at all."

James pushed off the wall to face him, something along the lines of frustration on his face, but also pain, "Let me help you. If you have nothing, then let me help you. Shirogane's not the only one who saw potential in you!"

Keith stared at the toes of his shoes, feeling lonely despite the fact that James was standing there in front of him, and he felt a wistful smile take to his lips as he clung to his bag.

"Thank you... but... right now I think I need to leave. I think it's the best thing for me, I just... need to think. I need to be alone."

"But... Keith, you're not-."

"Before I go, though, can I say something?" Keith interrupted, and James gave a deep sigh, shoulders sagging, "It's just... I see now that I've wasted a lot of time pitying myself and being scared of rejection. Shiro told me not to wait too long, because if I did then I would just lose my chance, and I guess I technically have, but... I guess that just means I have nothing else to lose, so...," he lifted his head to look at James, who was watching him uneasily, "I like you. I have for a while now. I mean, a long while, like ever since we were in middle school. Also when I say I like you I mean-."

"I know," James was the one to interrupt this time, and Keith narrowed his eyes a bit, though they shot wide when James held out the small sheet of paper he'd been carrying, "All these years of seeing your homework and you really think I wouldn't recognize your handwriting? You're a real idiot."

Keith bristled dangerously at that, eyes burning with anger as his face burned with embarrassment, responding the best way he knew how and leaning forward, lashing out, "So you knew this whole time, and what, you were just playing me? Stringing me along and making fun of me? Laughing at me behind my back when you're with your fucking friends, is that it?!"

"You need to take a minute and control your anger!" James snapped back, relaxing substantially before continuing, "I haven't shown anyone or told anyone, I... needed time to think about it for myself, but... there's nothing wrong with it, you know that, right? I mean I k-kinda might return your feelings anyway, so it's fine," Keith didn't have a chance to react before James was adding, "So you're wrong when you say you have nothing left here! You have me!" he stuck the paper out, waiting for Keith to take it.

It was worn from being folded and unfolded so often, one of the first things he'd written and stuck into James' bag. Cheesy, stupid, a confession of "I like you, and I want to go out with you," in Keith's handwriting. Right beneath it was another line of text, one he hadn't put there, one that made him choke on nothing as he read it.

I like you too, let's go out sometime.

"I'll talk to Iverson," James repeated, and Keith clung to the paper with both hands, "I'll convince him to give you another chance, we can work through this together. I'll help you, Keith, you're not alone. We can keep studying, keep training, enter the Garrison as pilots and teachers once we've graduated into officers. You're not alone, and there is a reason for you to stay here."

Keith didn't even know how to really feel at that point. He was tired. Emotionally exhausted and drained from everything that had happened. He could still feel it, the love and care he held in his heart, something reserved only for James, but at this point, he didn't think he'd be able to open up and love James the way he deserved.

"I... I need time, James. Please," Keith said softly, "I need to be alone, to think, I just... I can't be with you the way I am now. I need time to think through everything."

Silence answered him, and for a horrible moment Keith felt like sobbing, because he really had missed his chance. All this time he could've been with James, but he'd wasted it lamenting over how to confess, before wasting even more time mourning Shiro before he'd even been confirmed... gone. Was it really too late?

"Will you ever come back?" James asked, and Keith tensed, folding the paper up and holding it back out for the other cadet to take.

"I don't know."

James reached out and pushed Keith's hand closer to his chest, "Keep it," he said, and Keith felt his heart jump in panic before James quickly continued, "as a reminder. A promise. I'll wait for you."

Keith took a shuddering inhale, holding the page to his chest, "What if it takes too long? What if it takes years?"

"That's fine," James assured, "I've waited this long, you know. I can wait one or two more years," Keith almost, almost smiled, eyes pinching closed as James leaned towards him and brushed a kiss to his right cheekbone, then stepped past him, a hand squeezing his upper arm, "Come back as soon as you can, okay? I'll take you on a date to Plaht City, how's that sound."

"Plaht City?" Keith's voice broke at that, fighting the burn in his eyes, "Okay. Yea. Plaht City. I'll hold you to that promise."

"And I'll hold you to the promise that you'll come back. Better be ready, I'll be a fully realized pilot by the time you get back, so don't be too surprised."

Keith finally smiled at that, turning his head to look back at James, "Good. Keep studying and training. I know you'll be a good pilot. The best the Garrison has ever seen."

"I'll see you soon," he reached a hand back, and James reached over with his own, without looking, hooking his fingers with Keith's.

"Yea. You better."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"One or two years," Keith paused in his steps, fingers biting into the surface of his red accented paladin's helmet, hesitating before turning to look at who was standing in the hall behind him; James, "We made a promise, but you... might not remember it. Thought I'd ask anyway."

Keith watched him silently before turning his head away, staring at the wall before dropping his head and searching around inside the helmet, slipping a folded piece of paper from inside the lining and holding it out towards James, who hesitated visibly before taking a step closer.

He unfolded the paper Keith handed to him, a grin breaking over his face with an anxious laugh, flush crossing his cheeks pink and shaking his head before meeting Keith's eye. The smile wavered and he reached out to cup the side of Keith's face, thumb brushing the scar marring the skin there and leading Keith closer.

"It's been like six years."

"And you waited for me?" Keith tested, not moving away when James set their foreheads together.

"Guess I'm an idiot like that."

"Yea," Keith laughed out the word, "You definitely are."

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wlwscorpia · 5 years

Text

ive been stewing on this and i gotta let it out somehow so have this fucking vent that im posting on main because im so heated on it

its so transparent how people give no shits about hunk it pisses me off like. i stg some of yall dont even pretend unless ur complaining about his lack of development to get woke points

i remember, after season 7, seeing a post that was basically like “i hate how the lion eyes thing stopped being an important and special thing” and im like... it still is. everyone loved it when shiro did it. everyone loved when keith did it. people loved when allura did it. those were all important moments and i saw a ton of gifs of them.

then suddenly, hunk does it, after a season of development, and you have the gall to say its not important anymore because he did it?????? im tired!!!!!! that shit didn’t come out of nowhere!!! hunk had so much going on for him that season which led to him being a focus for ONCE but everyone just fucking plugs their ears when hunk is on screen i guess bc no one gave a shit

im tired that hunk NEVER gets the focus other characters do for doing the same things. the fandom wrote a billion fanfics about the team comforting keith after he tried to sacrifice himself at naxela. yet i have seen. literally. no one. even acknowledged the way hunk tried to sacrifice himself against the space monster to save the others. or how they all fucking saw it, and had to pull him back and remind him that they love him. it would be one thing if that scene had been brushed off in canon, but it had the same amount of momentary focus as keith’s did.

people wrote a million fanfics about lance missing his family and being comforted by the others after he talked about them. hunk had to delay his reuniting with his family because they were fucking PRISONERS, was forced to leave his parents behind in aforementioned prison when he found them because an extraction would be too dangerous, all the while wondering if the rest of his family was even alive. hell, the first time he gets to see his fucking parents is when they find him with critical injuries in his crashed lion, you know, if he was even CONSCIOUS.

some people even have the fucking attitude to insist that lance or keith should have gotten certain hunk scenes and i just. see red everytime i see shit like that. hunk gets literal crumbs of canon content and yet apparently he doesn’t deserve some emotional spotlight? fuck off

like im not saying its bad to focus on keith and lance and write stuff about them, its totally valid, but it pisses me off that the fandom in whole ignores the fuck out of hunk while pretending to like him.

“canon ignores hunk” yeah it does, im not gonna say it doesn’t, but he has a fucking lot of stuff there that you would NOTICE if you gave the same amount of shits about him as you do ur skinny boys.

yall just like to picture hunk as the “uwu pure boy soft bean never does wrong ever” and portray him totally ooc constantly

the reason i feel kinda bad saying this is because, like, i get that not everyone is gonna like the same characters equally. theres nothing wrong if hunk isn’t your favorite or if you don’t write content for him, its not really an individual fault thing, its more along the lines of something in the overall fandom as a whole that annoys me???? again this post is just me being angry because everytime i search “hunk” i have to fucking scour for actual content of him.

#ive literally never been so heated about a character before #fuck #canon and fanon disappoint me so i gotta love him all by myself huh

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dalekofchaos · 5 years

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Owen Hart deserves to be in the Hall Of Fame. It’s never gonna happen because of his wife. I understand, she deserves to be angry at the WWE for as long as she draws breath, but god, the lengths she will go to deny the legacy to his fans and even his own family is downright disgusting. From Bret’s own words broke my heart.

“ I have received multiple requests for comment regarding my recent interview on a podcast and the rebuttal made by Dr. Martha Hart. First of all, I want to express my disappointment in both the Calgary Sun and Calgary Herald for running a gossip-style article and making it front page news when there are more pressing issues in the world to highlight. You are better than that. I listened back to the interview in question and I specifically want to address Martha's comments about my words being "cruel, reckless, irresponsible, and hurtful". Stampede Wrestling was an institution in the city of Calgary. Wrestling was our family business. My brothers and I either wrestled for my father Stu or worked behind the scenes. Fans packed the Victoria Pavilion every Friday night for decades. Martha has seemed to have forgotten that she attended those same shows before she met Owen. She was, by definition, a wrestling fan. That same group Martha appears to look down upon and ignore. Earlier this year, Mark Henry took time during his WWE Hall of Fame induction to specifically address Martha. With tears in his eyes, Henry pleaded with her to allow Owen to be inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame. My nieces and nephews were in the audience with tears in their eyes as he expressed how much he deserved to be there with his peers. Fans have told me they had tears in their eyes when they watched the moment on television. Those same fans Martha sat side-by-side with at Stampede Wrestling and WWE events. Those same fans that donate to the Owen Hart Foundation and helped make it what it is today because they remember the joy he brought to their lives and not by how he died. Those royalty checks she receives from the company she says she doesn't want any part of? Those are also from those same fans. To her, their tears do not matter. To me, that is cruel and hurtful. It is true that Martha and I were close at one time. I was right by her side after Owen's death until she received her settlement from WWE and proclaimed me a "pest". Martha later declared herself and her children Harts in name only, called us all "black sheep", and ceased contact with the rest of the Hart family. She further isolated from us when we all came together in 2010 to honour our father Stu being inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame and participated in a DVD that celebrated our family (Hart & Soul). Owen's children do not have a relationship with his brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, and cousins. One of my nieces, in fact, named her son Owen after him. I do not know Oje and I wouldn't know Athena if she walked passed me on the street. Owen's children only know of their father's family by what is told by their mother, whatever that may be, painting us all with one broad brush. To block Owen's children from knowing their father's family, to me, is cruel, reckless, and irresponsible. Owen's tragic accident almost 20 years ago changed our family forever. Martha lost her soulmate and her children lost their father. You have to remember, however, that I also lost my brother. My children lost their uncle. My grandchildren will only know him through pictures and stories. His peers lost a close friend who filled them with endless laughter through long periods on the road. The fans lost someone that they lovingly connected to. Martha is not alone in her loss and grief. The Owen Hart Foundation is a wonderful charity that has raised millions of dollars and has helped many people in its 19 year history. I am not disputing or denying that whatsoever. I disagree, however, that it should be the sole outlet to remember Owen by. This is not just about Owen being inducted into the WWE Hall of Fame. This is about his wrestling career, his wrestling legacy, his contribution to the business that he loved and honouring that contribution. Owen Hart was a world-renowned professional wrester, and a damn good one. He was part of the foundation that our family name was built on not just in the city of Calgary but all over the world. For Martha to want to rewrite history, to refuse to acknowledge or recognize his great wrestling career, to brush off what he, myself, and my father did as "that fake stuff" is wrong. Owen Hart was a wrestler. The next generation deserve to know how great he truly was. I am happy to hear that my brother Owen will be inducted into the George Tragos/Lou Thesz Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame on July 28 in Waterloo, Iowa. My father and I are past honourees. While I will not be in attendance, the Hart family will be well-represented with my brothers Ross, Bruce, Keith, sister Diana, and my nephew Harry Smith accepting the honour on his behalf. Thank you to the Board of Directors for recognizing his wrestling career, his contributions to the wrestling business, and his legacy. I'm sure the event will be filled with laughter, tears, and an overall appreciation for the man that he was. I can only hope that this is only the beginning.”

#WWE #Owen Hart #Bret Hart

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blayzez · 6 years

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a real fine place to start

This was actually supposed to be a shitpost on tumblr spanning just a few hundred words and it turned into this?? monstrosity??? Im so sorry

It’s here now! Sorry for taking so long, I was having trouble getting the dialogue right.

Read on ao3!

Or you can read it under the cut

The war's not over yet, but at this point, it's become a race to gather as many Galra to the good side before Honerva can. Allura, ever the diplomat and princess, decides that perhaps the best way to achieve this is to have a high-profile Altean and a high-profile Galra join together in marriage. She says this with the heavy implication that she would be that high-profile Altean, and it's very obvious it's something she doesn't really want to do but will for the sake of the coalition.

Lance talks her out of it. Not because he wants her to himself -- he's already come to terms with the fact that that'll never happen -- but because he wants Allura's happiness. He's also a hopeless romantic and doesn't like the idea of one of his best friends entering a loveless, strictly political marriage. Allura puts up an argument, but Lance is able to talk her out of it. Somebody else can become betrothed; Allura deserved better.

This entire time, Keith can only stare contemplatively at Lance. He has an idea, and now that Allura has been completely talked out of marrying a Galra herself, Keith thinks his idea might actually be possible. He decides to go for it.

"What about me and Lance?" he declares, walking up to Lance and taking his hand.

After the paladins decided that a trip to Earth was a necessity, they took a little time beforehand to visit the Altean colony. It was there that Lance met someone he never thought he'd meet, and certainly not in space: His father, an Altean. Lance was shocked at first and, unlike Keith and Krolia, ended up distancing himself from the father that abandoned him (as an Altean, his father would have been safer on Earth as he could have blended in better with humans that the very obviously-alien Krolia could have). Lance can handle that he's Altean -- he took that pretty well, actually -- but he can't handle knowing his flesh and blood chose a life in exile rather than stay with his family. The team has been avoiding the subject ever since, for Lance's sake.

"WHAT?!" Lance squawks, blushing furiously. "What makes you think I'd want to marry you?!" A look of hurt crosses Keith's face before Keith schools his expression into a more neutral one.

Keith explains that as paladins, they are high-profile Galra and Altean respectively. As an added bonus, since they're both half-human, that also gives the Galra and Alteans a positive connection to Earth.

Lance is, predictably, outraged because how DARE they decide this for him! He pulls Keith closer, obviously trying to stay out of earshot of the rest of the team.

"Why would you put me on the spot like this?" Lance's voice is more hushed now, attempting to keep the conversation between him and Keith.

"It'll be good for the coalition, for the universe," Keith tells him just as quietly. In actuality, Keith has had feelings for Lance for a long while now. The idea of being married to him... well, maybe Keith is being selfish here, but his words to Lance are not untrue.

"What about what's good for me?" Lance hisses back.

"It's not always about you, Lance," Keith retorts, but he feels a flash of hurt. "Marriage isn't going to kill you."

"A marriage to you might," and that's all takes to crumble Keith's resolve. He ducks his head, eyes downcast.

Sighing heavily, Keith whispers, "Would it really be that bad being married to me?"

Lance's expression changes to that of regret, and he looks close to placing a comforting hand on Keith, but he seems to steel himself against it.

"Yes-- No-- I don't know!" Lance suddenly shouts, stepping away from Keith in a fit of frustration. "It's just-- This is all happening so fast and I want to help the coalition but I've always wanted to be married to someone I love and I know the universe is more important but it's just-- It's all so much!"

A rush of sympathy floods Keith, and he steps closer to Lance and places his hands on Lance's biceps.

"It's okay, Lance," he murmurs affectionately, giving Lance a soft smile. "I'm sorry. Look-- You don't have to answer now, and you don't have to say yes. It was just an idea. You can-- You can think about it?" and he asks it instead of suggesting it, worried Lance will lash out at him for it.

But he doesn't. He's still visibly upset, but he's noticeably calmer.

"Yeah, okay," he mumbles, breaking away from Keith's embrace and retreating to a small wooded area. Keith stares after him helplessly, feeling at a loss for what he should do.

He knows now he shouldn't have forced this on Lance -- it was selfish of him, of course Lance isn't as interested in marrying Keith as Keith is in marrying Lance.

Lance needs space right now, he needs time alone to think. Keith could give him that, would give him that. He could do this.

He lasts maybe an hour.

When he finds Lance, it's in a small clearing. Lance is sitting on the ground with his knees pulled to his chest and looks lost in thought.

Keith clears his throat to announce his presence, but Lance doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't acknowledge him at all. So Keith just stands there awkwardly, not exactly sure what he should do in this situation.

"Why me?"

Lance's quiet voice causes Keith to jump, and when he looks at the blue paladin, he's staring at Keith with an unreadable expression.

"What-- what do you mean?"

"Allura's a high profile Altean, too. Why not her?"

"She didn't want to marry at all."

"I haven't acted enthused about it either, yet you're still pushing a marriage with me."

"I'm not trying to push it, Lance, I just thought--"

"What? What did you think?" Lance jumps to his feet at this point, looking like an animal caught in a trap -- wild, fierce, and terrified.

"I just thought... you were the better choice."

Lance looks utterly shocked by this, so Keith sweeps on. "Allura's great, yeah, but... well, so are you. You're a great person, you were the perfect right-hand man for me, the team probably would have gone under a dozen or so times if you hadn't been there, and I thought it might be something you'd want because you'd finally get the glory and attention that you've been wanting -- that you deserve -- and I just-- why aren't you saying anything?!"

Because Lance is just silently standing there, looking dumbfounded, like Keith had just given Lance the most unorthodox secret of life. Keith almost tries again until Lance beats him to it.

"I just-- I don't get it!" Lance bursts out. "You distance yourself from us, leave us, almost get yourself killed on purpose, and then suddenly you come back and ask to marry me and say all this nice stuff about me?! I don't get it! I don't-- I don't get you!"

Lance lets out a shaky sigh, dropping his hands from where they were running through his hair.

"I missed you," he says suddenly, voice quiet. "I missed you and you just brushed me off like I meant nothing and then you start acting like you care? You can't just do that, you can't just--"

"Lance, I've always cared," Keith doesn't like cutting Lance off, but this needs to be said. "I have always cared. I cared when you first helped me save Shiro. I cared the first time I saw you smile at me. I cared when I held your hand and you told me we made a good team. I cared when I saved you and your lion from Nyma and Rolo. I cared when you came up with strategies on the Balmera off the top of your head like it was nothing. I cared when the castle was trying to kill us. I cared when we got stuck in that elevator and had to escape it by using our wits and working together. I cared when you saved mine and Hunk's butts with a cow on a hoverboard. I cared when you decided right away that it didn't matter I was Galra, that I was still Keith. I cared when you comforted me after Shiro died. I cared when you encouraged me to become the leader I didn't think I could be. I cared when you helped me become the leader you had faith I'd become. I cared when you saved me countless times without a second thought. I cared when you admitted how insecure you were about your place in Voltron. I cared when I chose to do something about it by stepping down and letting Shiro take charge, even though the black lion rejected him. I cared--"

"Stop."

Normally, Keith would press on, but Lance's voice was so choked that Keith automatically obeys.

Lance is red in the face, his eyes watery and he blinks rapidly to try and dispel the tears -- he only succeeds in causing them to fall, and once they start, he can't stop. Keith closes the space between them in seconds, pulling Lance into a tight embrace.

"I have always cared, Lance," he murmurs into Lance's ear. "Always. That's why I chose you instead of asking Allura to marry me."

Lance gasps as if the thought that anyone would choose him over the princess was too astounding to process.

"This isn't just about the coalition, Lance. I admit... my reason for choosing this is selfish."

He takes a deep breath before finishing his thought, preparing himself for imminent rejection.

"I want to be your husband. In the entire universe, there is nobody I'd want this with more than you."

Lance has stilled in his arms, pausing even his breath at the confession. Then, suddenly, Lance is fisting Keith's clothes and holding Keith as tightly to him as possible. He keeps quiet, but Keith distinctly feels a sob shudder through Lance's body.

"I didn't know," Lance chokes out quietly. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Telling you, my so-called rival who always showed an aversion to me, that I'm in love with you?" Keith asks incredulously. "How would that have worked in my favor?"

"It would have-- I don't know!" Lance's voice becomes stronger, his crying calming down. "Maybe I would have realized sooner that how I feel about you isn't exactly platonic, either!"

This gave Keith pause. "... wait, what?"

"I like you! Like, like like you!" Lance nearly shouts, standing back to look Keith in the eye; he looks frustrated and flustered and confused. He was suddenly rambling, unable to keep his tangled web of emotions in check, apparently. "I'm pretty sure I have for a while now, but I was too afraid to admit it, so I just clung to my small crush on Allura until it wasn't so small anymore. And then I didn't know how I felt because my relationship with you got better after you became leader but then you left and I felt rejected and then my relationship with Allura got better because I had stopped flirting with her when I was getting closer to you so I started having those feelings for Allura again only stronger this time but she was into Lotor and left me high and dry and I felt horrible because the two people I cared about most rejected me but then you came back and yeah, you brushed me off -- which I'm still mad about, by the way, don't think you're off the hook for that -- but I was just so happy to see you again and have you back on the team that I almost forgot how heartbroken I felt over Allura, seeing you again actually made me feel better, it made me feel whole again and I... I'm not sure I can live without that feeling again."

And Lance looks so dejected and forlorn as he finishes speaking that it takes everything in Keith to not bring Lance into another hug.

"You don't have to," Keith rasps. "I'm not leaving again. I promise that to you. You... you make me feel whole, too. I'm glad the Blade worked me so hard because if they hadn't, I would have spent most of my time missing you. I'm not leaving you again. I don't think I could."

That is apparently enough for Lance because Lance leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Keith's lips. Keith melts immediately, kissing back but keeping it gentle, worried he could scare Lance away by showing too much enthusiasm.

When they pull away, Lance has the most affectionate, soft look Keith had ever seen him wear and it does something to Keith's insides. It makes Keith want to kiss him again, but he restrains himself; Lance is the most nervous of the two and he needs to be the one making the first moves for now.

"Look, I don't..." Lance trails off, seems to gather himself, then starts again. "I don't feel as strongly for you as you do for me." Quickly, he holds up a hand to stop Keith, who was about to interject that that was okay. "Let me finish. I don't feel as strongly for you as you do for me, but... But I do feel something for you. And, eventually, I think the strength of our feelings for each other will become mutual."

Keith smiles softly at him, letting all the affection he feels for this boy show in his gaze. "I'll wait for you," he whispers.

"You don't have to wait for me," Lance breathes with a soft grin of his own, pressing his forehead to Keith's. "I'm right here."

With that, Lance leans in for another kiss.

#voltron #klance #lance #keith #altean lance #fic #fanfic #my art

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