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panda-noosh · 7 years

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Hello 😁 scenarios for the Paladins where they're nervous bc they've got to do something like a friendly fighting match against some selected champion or whatever and when they reveal to their s/o that they're worried they'll lose the match, s/o gives them an invigorating kiss, leaving them all like "I'm winning this damn thing for you" Thank you Aticus!

Sorry this tookso long to get to! I hope you enjoy it!

Shiro:

Shiroknew he had no reason to be nervous. This fight had been planned agesago, and he had been training for it ever since. He was ready. Asready as he could be.

Heknew that all he could do was try his best. He had to get in the ringand show them just how much he had been working during the build upto this very day.

Andyet the nerves grabbed a hold of him only moments before the fightwas due to begin. His opponent had arrived, confident looking withtheir planets flag draped over their broad and buff shoulders – alot broader than Shiro's, though that had never been a warning signfor the Paladin. Strength wasn't measured physically – he couldoutsmart anybody, no matter their size.

Shirolooked on from the side lines, hidden behind the draping curtainwhich cut off the ring from the crowd. He could only see half of hisopponents face, but even that was enough to make him feel even morenervous than he was before.

Hehollows out his cheeks and shakes his head to nobody other thanhimself. He could have swore he was alone, though whenever he turnsaround to face the large room in which he had been locked in for thepast three hours, he is surprised to see you sitting in the arm chairin the corner, a book in your hand. Your eyes aren't skimming thepages, though. You're looking at him, one eyebrow raised.

“Youseem tense,” you say, not even bothering to elaborate on why you'rehere and not in the crowd with everybody else. “Since when didTakashi Shirogane get tense?”

Shiroshakes his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his oversizedhoodie. “It's nothing.”

Younarrow your eyebrows, setting your novel down beside your chair andpushing yourself upwards. “You can tell me if you're nervous, youknow. I think it's only natural for you to feel nervous in thissituation.”

“Hejust looks so -” Shiro shrugs. “-confident.”

Youpeak your head past Shiro's shoulder, catching a glimpse of the manin question. He does, but you would never say that to Shiro. Instead,you find yourself chuckling as you approach the Paladin, winding yourhands over his shoulders and pulling him into you a little bit.

Helooks down at you, hands on your waist now.

“Hehasn't got anything on you,” you say. “You weren't a Paladin ofVoltron for nothing. That guy – he probably got this gig off ofsome druggie on a street corner. You can show him who's a realleader.”

Youkiss him. It's sudden, and sweet, and filled with the words of 'Goodluck' and it means everything to Shiro in that moment. Some fighterstake steroids – all Shiro needs is you.

Thekiss is over all-too-soon as Shiro's name is called from outside. Helooks down at you, ignoring it for just a moment longer – a momenthe spends looking at you, at the way you look up at him with yourhands wound around his shoulders and your cheeks tinted a red colourdue to the passion you had just built up only a moment before.

Shiroinhales. “Alright, alright. I'll win it.”

Youbreak out in a smile, pressing another kiss to his jaw line. “Don'tkill him.”

Keith:

“Iswear to god there's a dent in the carpet from where you've beenpacing.”

Keithis startled by the sound of your voice, and yet he makes no move toshow this. He simply flicks his eyes up to you for a single moment,before he goes back to doing what he was doing – pacing.

Todaywas the day. Theday.The one day of the year he had to prove to the Blade of Marmora thathe was, in fact, capable of being one of them. Testing day camearound once a year, and this year would be his first one. He couldn'tlook weak now.

Butanxiety had a nasty habit of robbing him of that feeling ofconfidence he so desperately needed in this moment. He needed amiracle, he thought. He needed some holy Angel to come down from theheavens and bless him with the skill to actually stand upright,because today, it felt like he could collapse at any minute.

Itwas eating him alive, and there was only hours left before he was dueto step into the examination centre and prove himself to the peoplehe had wanted to impress for the past year and a half.

Yousigh when you see him. Always so silent about his struggles, and yethis actions spoke paragraphs.

“Isaw you training the other day.” You step into the room, closingthe door quietly behind you. Keith looks up again, finally stoppinghis movements and opting to simply tap at his lip to get rid of thenervous energy as you spoke. “You're good. Very good. They'd bestupid to let go of you now.”

Keithcrinkles his nose up. “I was good for a Paladin. Not for them.They're on another level. One I don't think I've quite reached yet.”

Youraise a brow. A part of this was almost humorous to you. Kulivan hadexpressed how impressed he was of Keith's performances on multipleoccasions, and praised him on his tactics after almost every missionthe Blade of Marmora went on. It was close to impossible at thispoint that they would ever willingly drop Keith.

“Well,”you say, trying to hold back your giggles, “I don't know who toldyou you weren't onthat level yet,but from an outsiders perspective, you're the most fierce Galra I'veever seen.”

Youstep forward once again. Keith narrows his eyes, noticing your littlesteps towards him that make him want to reach out and drag you intohim to speed the process up. Either way, he keeps his hands tohimself.

“Andit would be a damnshameif this was the last time I saw you in that suit,” you continue,trailing your eyes down his toned body which is being hugged by thetight Blade of Marmora suit.

Keithswallows thickly as you look back up at him, a smile gracing yourfeatures which is soon melting away as you press your lips to his asa final good luck charm.

Keithfeels relief wash over him as soon as your lips touch his, and forthose few seconds, he isn't panicking. He's simply feeling. He'senjoying this moment with your hands wrapped around his torso and hishands on your waist and your lips on his all over again.

Youpull away, looking up at him with those big eyes that scream 'faith'at him. Faith you have in him. Faith you've always had in him.

Heswallows again and nods. “Right. That would be a shame. I guess Ihave to get through this then.”

Lance:

SeeingLance nervous was like seeing a newborn baby form a full compoundsentence – it didn't happen.

Atleast, that's what you thought.

Youdon't know what to think now as you sit back and watch your boyfriendpace back and forth, a thumb lodged between his teeth as incoherentwords of panic escape him. He looks so scared in this moment,thoughts clearly racing through his mind about todays fight.

“Lance,honestly, you got yourself into this mess.”

Lancewhirls around, a dramatic gasp exaggerating his sudden movement. “Youthink so, too?”

Youroll your eyes, standing up and walking towards him. “You literallytold the guy you were going to fight him. He was perfectly fine withjust leaving it as a verbal argument.”

“Idon't know what you're talking about.”

Youcrinkle your nose up as you finally reach him, taking his hands inyours. They're clammy and slightly bruised from where he had beenpunching the punching bag all day.

“Youcan just cancel it if you want,” you inform him, flipping his handsover to inspect his bruised knuckles. “I'm sure the bloke hasbetter things to do then fighting a Paladin of Voltron.”

“Hetried to kiss you,” Lance says. “I'm not just gonna cancel thefight.”

“Ipushed him away!” you exclaim, a laugh escaping you. “Andbesides, I didn't even know what had happened before you camebarrelling in and pushed him away.”

“Godknows what would have happened if I didn't.”

“Himand I probably would have gotten married, had kids, moved into abig-”

Lance grunts, not letting you finish before he'spressing his lips to yours in an attempt to shut you up. You chuckleagainst his mouth, letting go of his hands so they can wrap aroundhis shoulders, clipping at the nape of his neck where you findyourself absent-mindedly messing with a strand of his hair.

Whatwas meant to be a kiss to quieten you slowly turned into a kiss whichcalmed Lance down. The nerves that had been piling on due to thefight he himself had organised were slowly being released through thekiss, making him crave more whenever you pulled away.

Hiseyes fluttered closed as he remembered why he was fighting in thefirst place – the guy had tried to hurt you. That was all he neededto remember to have the motivation to win.

Hunk:

“I'mreally not the fighting type.”

“Thenwhy did you say yes?”

“I'mreally not the type to say 'no' either.”

Youpress your fingers into your eyes, rubbing the exhaustion out ofthem. You had been trying to calm him down for the past hour and ahalf, and yet here he was, repeating the same words over and overagain as if doing so will cancel the fight altogether.

Youwant to tell him to stop, that fighting somebody wasn't going tosolve anything, but he was far too absorbed in the idea of beingtough thatyour words didn't seem to filter in his brain. He had taken notice ineverybody elses ability to fight hand-to-hand, meaning he had to doit as well.

“Idon't know what you want me to say.” You let your hand drop, itlanding in Hunk's lap where he softly intertwines your fingers. “I'vesaid good luck about a thousand times now, and it doesn't seem to bedoing anything.”

“Maybeyou could fight the guy for me,” he suggests. You raise a brow,tilting your head to the side and he groans, finally slumping backagainst the pillows behind him. “I don't know why I get myself inmesses like these. There's really no need for it.”

“Youwant to prove your strength,” you point out. “It's normal, Iguess. I understand why you would want do. It's just – you reallyaren't muchof a fighter, Hunk.”

“Goodwords of encouragement, babe.”

Yougroan, tapping his arm. “You know what I mean. You're thehappy-go-lucky Hunk, and everybodies perfectly fine with it. Youdon't have to fight somebody to prove yourself.”

“Everybodyelse fights really well in hand-to-hand combat.”

“Becausethey trained. You haven't even gotten up from sulking yet.”

Hunkcloses his eyes. He knows you're right. He knows he got himself intothis mess all because he needed an ego boost – one he might noteven get if he loses. Everybody had told him that he wasn't cut outfor fighting, and yet here he was – getting ready for a fight.

“Okay,change of plans,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “I need somethingelse to calm me down. Your words of encouragement suck.”

Youroll your eyes, finally deciding to use your last resort. With asigh, you lean forward, take his hands away from his face and placeyour lips over his. For a moment, he doesn't respond, too shocked toreally do anything.

Butthen his body is relaxing and he is kissing you back. It's not justrelaxing into the kiss, though – his anxieties suddenly seem to beoozing out of him, replaced by the butterflies which never fail toarise in his stomach whenever you kiss him.

Youpull away all too soon and intertwine your fingers with his again,looking down at him with that smile that made his head spin just thesame as it did all them years ago.

“Howabout that?” you question. He licks his bottom lip, swallowingthickly.

“Okay.Yeah. Yeah. I can do this. You're right. You're always right.”

Pidge:

Pidgewasn't sure who was more nervous about the upcoming fight – you orher.

Ofcourse she was nervous. She always was when it came to this time ofyear. She had to prove herself to the masses yet again – she had tomake herself look good in front of thousands of people, yet again.

Lastyear had been a disaster for her. She had gone on after Shiro, andhad immediately been snickered at. After seeing Shiro completelydominate his opponent, the last thing the crowd had expected was forsomebody like Pidge to walk out of backstage, ready to fight whoeverit was that was given to her.

Thisyear, she had to prove herself. She had to show people that shewasn't just thesmall Paladin of Voltron. Shewas Pidge Gunderson. She was smart, and fierce, and scary when shewanted to be and she could prove it if she just-

Yougroan loudly all of a sudden, swinging your head back in the dramaticway you had been doing for the past half hour. Pidge looks up fromher space on the sofa. She had been reading, said activity being herway of calming down.

Apparently,your way of calming down was pretending like you were dying.

“Everythingokay?” Pidge calls over to you, casually flicking the page of hernovel.

Yougroan again, wriggling in your seat until you're laying across itsideways, feet hanging off of the arm rest with your other arm slungover your eyes. “This is too much. The tension is killing me.”

“Youand me both. I just know how to keep quiet about it.”

Yougroan a third time. “I'm serious! How the hell am I meant to justsit back here and watch you fight some random alien thing?”

Pidgeraises a brow. “Are you saying I can't do it?”

“I'msaying that if you get injured, I'm scared I'm gonna snap and do somedamage to the people outside.”

“Youalways did believe in me.”

Youopen one eye and send Pidge a warning sideways glance. She sighs atthe sight of it, rolling her eyes once as she sets her book downbeside her.

Youshuffle upright, sitting up properly so Pidge can settle into thechair beside you. Her shoulder hits yours, her legs slightly tangledwith your own before she rests her head on your shoulder, pressingher warm lips to your exposed collar bone.

“I'llbe fine,” Pidge says, messing with your fingers as she speaks. “Youknow the rules – no killing allowed.”

“Pidge.”

“Iwas trying to be comforting!” she insists. You shake your head,unable to hide the smile on your face. It only takes a moment for youto grab your girlfriend by the chin and pull her lips up to yours,pressing them together.

Ina way, it was for good luck. Telling her she can do this if she putsher mind to it, just like every other task Pidge had ever taken on.But the kiss still brings Pidge back to earth, replacing herbutterflies of nerves with butterflies of need which she quicklyexaggerates by getting her fingers lost in the strands of hair she iscurrently tugging at on your head.

Youbite down on her lip whenever you notice her getting handsy, makingher pull away with a pout.

“Itwas meant to be for good luck. Don't get too carried away,” youwarn. She rolls her eyes one last time.

“Ihave to win this damn fight so I can get some later on, don't I?”

Yousmile. “Well, you certainly won't be getting some if you come homebattered and bruised, will you?”

“Ilove motivation.”

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