seen from Philippines
seen from China
seen from Russia
seen from Russia
seen from Netherlands
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Kosovo
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from United States
when I'm trying to read a fanfic / one shot and y/n gives an unnecessary nickname to him
Sometimes, when they can't sleep at night, they simply watch you sleep. Your lives are beyond stressful, full of endless twists and turns. In the right lighting, they are starting to notice early signs of aging; from you staring to gain a few stray grey hair to a small wrinkle by your left eye.
They see them as battle scars you have earned.
The quiet of night gives them to fall in love with your beauty over again. Your sleepy smile during dreams makes their heart flutter. Your hands are so small and delicate, yet they seem to cradle everyones problems like it is all air. Somehow, you make plain cotton t-shirts look like ballgowns.
Just what did they do to deserve your love?
ღ Gojo, Choso, Yuki, Russia, Prussia, Keith, Lotor, Xiao, Arlecchino, Navia, Stein, AZ, N
Oh, They’re So Weird (☉-⚆)
“You recently got laid off of your job. Thankfully, you found an ad on Craigslist that paid quite a bit for you to just housesit! 🍩”
DAY THREE
Previous Day -> Next Day
Contains: Nightmare, Curt and Rod, Betty, Keith, Lady Memoria, Artt, Johnny Splash
It felt like sinking.
One moment you were wrapped in the warmth of your bed, the quiet hush of the house cradling you like a lullaby. The next, you were falling: slowly, gently, through a thick fog of velvet shadows and distant stars.
Then: hooves.
The sound echoed in the dark, heavy and deliberate, like thunder walking on silk. You turned, and the fog parted.
She emerged slowly, like a statue sculpted from moonlight and shadow.
Nightmare.
Tall. Towering. Her figure was equine, but not just horse. The head of a snake made her not quite a unicorn. The head of a lion made her not quite a snake either. A mane like drifting ink. Hooves that left no mark on the dreamspace. Her many eyes glowed violet, rimmed with frost, and when she spoke, it was with a voice that echoed both within you and outside of you.
“You came to the house,” she said, circling you slowly.
“It let you in. Which means you’re lonely.”
“All the others were, too.”
You took a step back, breath catching in your throat. You tried to speak, but your voice stuck somewhere between confusion and cold fear.
She stopped. Tilted her head.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
“That’s okay. People forget the bad dreams… until they wake up crying.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dropped, soft and heavy:
“Do you remember what it’s like to be left behind?”
“To be waiting by the phone for someone who never calls?”
“To tell people you’re fine just so you won’t scare them away?”
“To wonder if you were ever wanted at all?”
Each word hit like a nail through your ribs. You stepped back: once, twice, until your legs refused to move. Something tight and old rose in your chest. That familiar ache. That raw little voice you didn’t talk about anymore.
She leaned close.
“That emptiness in your chest is shaped like someone you needed,” she whispered.
“And they never came back.”
Tears burned at the corners of your eyes.
Then… silence.
Nightmare pulled away, her expression unreadable, but her glowing eyes softened. The fog around her shimmered, and her body shifted ever so slightly. Still powerful. Still haunting. But… smaller, somehow. Less imposing.
She sighed.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “That part always works too well.”
“But I needed you to feel it first.”
“Now… do you understand what I’m telling you?”
You stood there, breath shallow, the pain still raw, but clear now. Not a wound, but a warning. Not just from her, but about her.
You nodded slowly, voice hoarse. “You’re not here to hurt me… you’re here to remind me that even comfort has shadows. That even kindness has to be earned. That… not everything in this house is soft and warm.”
Nightmare blinked.
Then laughed.
It was loud. Gleeful. A full-bodied sound that echoed through the dream like silver bells and thunder. She tossed her head back, dark mane rippling with sparkles of starlight.
And was that a blush?
“Hah! You’re sharper than the last one,” she chuckled, hiding her face with a flick of her long mane.
“I like you.”
She turned, her form already fading into the fog.
“Remember what I said, dreamer. Shadows follow even the warmest light.”
And with that, she vanished, leaving behind the faint scent of lavender, smoke… and something almost sweet.
You sat bolt upright, chest heaving.
The dream clung to your skin like smoke: dense, heavy, and too real. You could still feel the echo of her words ringing inside your ribs.
“That emptiness in your chest is shaped like someone you needed… and they never came back.”
You rubbed your arms. Cold. You hadn’t been cold all week. But now?
It felt like her shadow had followed you through the veil of sleep.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
You looked around, heart still racing. The curtains were drawn again, but gently this time. Like they were being… cautious.
Even Curt and Rod, usually the sassiest voices in the room, were still.
Rod murmured softly, almost to himself,
“We may’ve underestimated that one.”
Curt sighed, voice low.
“Nightmare doesn’t do subtle.”
“Poor kid…”
They shifted quietly, slowly easing the curtains open: just enough to let a thin beam of sunlight spill across the bed. It stretched across your lap, warm and golden. Like a hand reaching out.
At the same time, the mattress beneath you shifted, not alarmingly, but gently. Like it was molding around you. Embracing you. The blanket tucked closer around your shoulders, soft and safe.
The feeling seeped into your spine like warmth in winter.
You exhaled shakily.
“…Thanks,” you whispered, pressing a hand to the bed.
Betty: quiet, patient Betty, murmured in her own way. Not with words, but with comfort. With care. With the deep, familiar kind of touch that didn’t ask questions. She knew what a nightmare felt like. She carried them for others all the time.
This wasn’t the first time someone had woken up crying on her back.
And it wouldn’t be the last.
You sat there for a long moment, grounding yourself. The bed. The light. The room. It was real. You were safe.
DING!
Your phone buzzed from the nightstand. You reached for it with slightly shaky fingers.
Text from: Homeowner
> Morning! Hope the house is treating you well. Would you mind cleaning the attic today? I know it’s a weird request, but I’ll pay an extra \$500.
> Please be respectful to the memories up there. There’s a lot of old things we care about. Some might… feel it.
> Let me know!
You stared at the message, then down at your lap.
The sunlight was still warm across your legs.
“…Memories,” you murmured.
You thought about the broken hanger. About the random snacks. About the toast. About the strange, perfect coffee art. About how this house, odd as it was, had taken care of you.
Even now.
Even after the dream.
You typed out a quick response:
You:
> Sure. I’ll be careful.
> And thank you.
You set the phone down and exhaled again, letting the warmth of the bed hold you just a little longer.
Nightmare may have rattled your bones, but the house, in its strange, loving way, was already stitching you back together.
The hallway stretched quiet and calm as you sipped the last of your coffee and approached the attic door. It was taller than you expected, old oak with a worn brass knob and hinges that looked like they hadn’t been oiled in years.
You reached for the handle.
CLICK!
Locked.
You jiggled it again, lightly rattling the knob. Nothing. You gave the door an annoyed squint and pulled your phone from your pocket.
YOU:
> Hey, the attic’s locked. Is there a key somewhere?
You barely had time to turn around before your phone buzzed again.
Homeowner:
> Whoops. Yep! That’s on me. Check the basement—Keith’s in there somewhere. He’s hard to miss, looks fancy. Let me know if you find him!
Keith?
You blinked, shrugged, and turned toward the basement stairs.
The basement was cool and dim, the air tinged with sawdust and the faint scent of oil. The light bulb overhead buzzed, flickering once before staying on. You made your way past tall shelves filled with tools and jars of screws until you reached the old wooden workbench tucked against the back wall.
And there it was.
A skeleton key, shining met with curling engravings. It sat on a worn patch of broken floor, resting with a kind of abandon that felt mean. Like someone just threw it down there with no regards as to where it went.
You picked it up.
It was heavier than you expected, warm against your palm. Old, but solid.
“…Huh,” you muttered.
You didn’t know why, but you felt… grateful. Like this key had been waiting for you. Like it wanted to be useful again.
Unseen, in the quiet world of the house’s true heart, Keith practically glowed.
“Finally!” he thought. “Someone gentle. Someone respectful. And they even used two hands… What a damn delight.”
Back upstairs, the attic door waited.
You slid the key into the lock, smooth as butter. The mechanism gave a soft click, and the door creaked open a few inches.
Sunlight flooded your face.
You blinked, squinting as warmth poured through the tall attic window, slicing through the dust like a spotlight. You pulled the door open further and turned to the table outside the bedroom, setting the key down gently.
"Thanks," you murmured, without even thinking.
Keith practically melted.
“Be still, my little notches… they said thank you…”
The attic air hit you as soon as you stepped in: stuffy and dry, thick with the smell of dust, old cardboard, and the faintest trace of something nostalgic. The kind of smell that reminded you of your childhood home, or your grandma’s closet, or a thrift store aisle where everything has a story.
The room was filled with quiet things.
Cardboard boxes stacked in rows. Some were labeled: Books, Seasonal, Old photos, Jamie’s stuff. One had no label at all, just a thick layer of dust on top.
There was a small fake plant near the door, slightly wilted despite being plastic. A canvas painting leaned against the wall. You caught yourself staring at it for a moment, like it was waiting for you to remember something you didn’t know you'd forgotten.
And in the far corner…
A safe.
Not old. Not dusty. Sleek. Black metal. Chrome handle. Digital keypad. Easily the most expensive-looking thing in the entire attic.
You furrowed your brow.
They really trusted you around that?
No lockbox. No warning. No instructions not to touch it.
Just sitting there, like it had nothing to hide.
You didn’t go near it yet. Just… noted it.
Strange.
But then again, this whole house had been strange since the moment you walked in.
Still, you had a job to do. You rolled up your sleeves and stepped deeper into the attic, ready to begin.
Behind you, the attic door creaked shut with a soft thud, and the light from the window shifted just slightly, as if adjusting for your presence.
And somewhere on the table outside the door, Keith sat proudly. Resting. Waiting.
And smiling.
You exhaled, hands on your hips, surveying the attic one last time.
Everything was back in its place: no, better than before.
Boxes were neatly restacked. Dust gently brushed away. Even the fake plant looked like it stood taller now, its leaves wiped clean and repositioned with care. The safe still sat untouched, undisturbed, respected.
But more than that… you’d hung the painting.
The lake scene, soft sunrise, still water, the kind of quiet beauty that felt like a memory whispered through glass. It now hung on the open attic wall where light struck it just right, like it belonged there all along.
You wiped the sweat from your brow and sighed through a tired smile.
That’s when it hit you.
Not sound. Not words.
But feeling.
A swell of deep, weighty gratitude pressed softly against your chest. Like someone had placed both hands over your heart and simply held you there for a second.
Unseen in the house’s quiet, unseen realm, Lady Memoria stirred.
She had watched you handle everything gently: lift boxes with care, dust old corners without judgment, return photographs to their places without reading the names aloud.
“They remembered,” she thought, eyes shimmering.
“Even though the memories aren’t theirs—they still remembered.“
“That’s all I ever wanted.”
And near the freshly hung painting, Artt felt warmth bloom in his canvas. Not just because he was on display, but because someone had looked at him like he mattered. Not like an old decoration. Not like forgotten wall filler.
But like a story worth seeing.
“I’m here,” he thought. “I’m finally… here.”
Back in the hallway, you rolled your shoulders and trudged to your room, legs sore and heart full. You gathered your clean clothes and padded toward the bathroom, feet practically dragging.
The second the shower turned on, you felt your bones melt.
Steam wrapped around you like a sigh of relief. The tile warmed under your feet. The water pressure was perfect: firm, not aggressive, and hot enough to untangle every knot in your shoulders. It hit all the right places, cascading down your back in waves.
You let your forehead rest against the cool tile for a moment, water running over you like it understood.
"...Okay," you whispered. "This? Worth it."
And beneath the stream, though you couldn’t hear him, Johnny Splash preened with pride.
“That’s right,” he thought, puffing up with bubbly confidence.
“Nobody showers like I give showers.“
“Excellence. Every. Time.”
He adjusted the temperature half a degree warmer without you noticing, because he knew you liked it just a little toastier near the end.
He was the MVP of water pressure. The unsung hero of long, tiring days.
You stayed under the stream longer than you meant to, breathing deep, letting everything fall away.
The attic. The dream. The safe.
Just steam, water, and quiet joy.
And Johnny?
Happy to serve.
The steam still clung to your skin as you stepped out of the bathroom, towel slung lazily over your shoulders, hair damp and cheeks flushed. You hadn’t even bothered with a full outfit: just a loose shirt and something soft to sleep in. The warmth from the shower was still in your bones.
You yawned as you padded down the hall, phone in one hand, rubbing your eye with the other.
That attic had taken forever. You hadn’t even realized how much time passed while you were up there. All the memories. All the dust. That painting. That safe.
But it was done.
You collapsed onto your bed with a tired groan, body sinking instantly into the perfect hold of Betty’s embrace. She adjusted around you without a word, like she’d been waiting: pillows shifting, blanket settling across your legs, mattress rising to meet your spine.
You grabbed your phone, snapped a quick picture of the attic from earlier: neat, glowing, peaceful, and sent it to the homeowner with a simple:
YOU:
> All cleaned. Hope it looks okay :)
You didn't expect a fast reply. But the DING came almost instantly.
Homeowner:
> It’s perfect. You handled it better than I hoped.
> Sending the extra $500 now. Thank you for being kind to the place.
A second later:
> Payment received - $500.
You blinked at the screen, lips twitching up into a tired smile.
“Nice.”
You set the phone on your nightstand and flopped fully under the covers, the day finally catching up to you. The weight of the attic. The heat of the shower. The strange pressure of the dream you were still trying to forget.
Even Curt and Rod stayed quiet tonight.
No teasing.
Just soft moonlight, and a curtain drawn halfway closed like it knew you needed less light this time.
The bed curled into your frame like a second skin, and your eyes slipped shut before you could even say goodnight.
But the house heard your silence.
And replied for you anyway.
Tags: @nightlark100 @stinkyboyfaliure @darlink-xoxo @pumpkincitrus @sweetly-sicken @owihitmyhead @emiko-chan-the-clown @glitch-05o2 @theblackberry @moonjellyfishie @irethepotato @shadowlover321 @gonegonethankyouuu @eternityofend @leathesimp @viennarambles @littlesliceofcheese @blu-brrys @ecao
omg i saw that ur back!! i love ur writing so i wanted to send a request ^^
can u write ab keith kogane and reader (you can make this hc or a fic!! whatever u feel fits the most)
i would love to see him crushing on reader, like that phase before the relationship where all he does is deny that he has a crush but cannot stop getting nervous and blushy when being around her?
thx so much!!!<3
keith kogane x (implied) female reader
genre: fluff
a/n: this was a super cute request! it’s been a minute since i’ve written anything voltron-related so hopefully it’s to your liking!! (it is a little rushed lowkey…)
keith kogane absolutely, positively, most certainly does not have a crush on you. that was fact. he never has, and he never will.
he was familiar with you, though. back at the garrison, he recognized you in the hallways and classes that you coincidentally had together. you were a pretty girl, with bright eyes and a fiery passion to become a fighter pilot. it was truly hard not to notice you, but obviously, that didn’t mean he had a crush on you. guys can recognize an attractive girl without it meaning anything, right? and that’s what he was doing.
no one knows about his inner turmoil but himself. keith thinks he’s done a good job of ignoring it—whatever that feeling was in the pit of his chest. he pushes it down, pretending that his pulse doesn’t quicken and his cheeks don’t warm when you’re in his vicinity. it’s embarrassing—how can a girl reduce him into a mushy, blushing mess? it was so unlike him. it’s like you’ve completely rewired keith’s brain, to suddenly make him forget how to act even in such small interactions (like when you greet him with a simple ‘hi’ and then his ‘hi’ back gets stuck in his throat).
for years, he thinks he’s manage to escape the whole bubble of you. he was kicked out, living in his tiny shed, tracking weird frequencies in the area and trying to piece what that meant, more important matters to focus on. occasionally his mind does drift back to you when he lays awake at night, recalling those fleeting moments with you, and his entire body gets hot.
but much to keith’s surprise, you show up with these garrison cadets (claiming to to save shiro, too). he freezes in that moment, staring at you wide-eyed and felt as though he was taken back to his days at the garrison, becoming that awkward boy in an instant.
he doesn’t get an actual moment with you until you’re all launched into space, finding solace in this foreign castle. you looked so different but still so you. taller, older, but still bright-eyed and beautiful just exactly as how keith remembered you.
there’s a part of him does enjoy the way you hug him in your arms, and the gentle, feather-light laugh after you say “i thought you were gone forever! but, gosh, i’m so glad to see you again.”
when you pull back to look up at him, keith does not take note of the way your eyelashes seem to flutter when you blink, and he definitely does not glance down at your lips. as he’s always done before, keith ignores, ignores, ignores the alien feelings you manage to bring out of him, and reminds himself to stop being so tongue-tied in front of you.
because, keith does not have a crush on you. and that was fact.
voltron masterlist
navigation
I WANNA BE WITH YOU FOREVER
apple cider, keith kogane x fem!reader
tw: none!
wc: 180
a/n: look at how pretty he is in that panel
more notes below
crush!keith would always be around you, your social circles always involving each other
crush!keith somehow had his gaze on you everytime you were in the same room
crush!keith giving you subtle compliments about your outfits and you suddenly seem to wear them a lot more
crush!keith struggling to understand what he felt for you
crush!keith thought he was ill when he blushed at that cute smile of yours
crush!keith and the soft roughness of his calloused hand, something you never wanted to let go of
crush!keith would let you run your hands though his hair and would wonder how he could get you to do it all the time
crush!keith who looks for more time to spend with you, he’d would be your baking taste tester under the excuse of “someone needs to make sure you’re doing it right”
crush!keith and your late night meets, talking to each other till the sun comes
nights like these made you question your relationship
just crush!keith loving you the best way he can
༊ FIRST FIC🙈 something simple to start withtht
༊ been procrastinating for atleast three years
༊ keith’s so cute i might explode🤕
༊maybe if you read in between the lines you can see which lyrics i was referring to
༊ listening to ‘nope you’re too late i already died’ for this
⋆♡︎⋆⭒˚｡
dividers made by @cafekitsune !
I WILL TAKE ANY KEITH FLUFF YOU HAVE PLEASE IM STARVING
Authors notes: Hello to you too. I don’t know if you wanted a fic or headcanons but I did headcanons cause I just wanted to so….yeah:p I believe there is no indication of the readers gender in this but please tell me if otherwise
Keith kogane x gn!reader
Tags & warnings: literally just fluff, Keith is so sweet
Word count <300
- Very protective. Probably to an overbearing extent, but it starts out as endearing:)
- A lot of people headcanons him to be very cuddly and I agree (but only ever in private though)
- I don’t think he has a preference for being the little or big spoon
- I actually think he prefers a position where you two can both hold each other
- I also think he would like to lay on top of you with his head on your chest, but that would take you a while to find out
- Probably hasn’t ever been in a relationship before you, and probably sucks at kissing
- But when he gets the hang of it, he’s really sweet, taking his time and everything
- But only ever in private though, or when he thinks no one is looking
- (Shiro has 100% seen you two kiss a few times before a mission)
- Would probably like if you borrow his clothes, and probably wouldn’t be against borrowing yours if you have any band tees lying around in your wardrobe that aren’t too small for him
- On nights we’re neither of you can sleep, there’s a good chance you can convince him to do arts and crafts with you if you’re crafty
- And he’d probably enjoy it too, but he’d probably get frustrated if he can’t fold the paper perfectly in half. Geek.
- He’s so cute. I hate him.
What're you doing?
Summary & CW: Angst, enemies (more like rivals/they had beef with each other) to lovers , he gets jealous, blade of marmora!keith, spy!reader, reader has hair long enough that can be put up, no use of y/n, second person
Pairing: Keith Kogane x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Another piece out the Kiln! Thank you to the loml (@starkkat) for requesting this ilysm. Yall do not know this but before zuko and Jason, there was keith <3 10 year old me knew what was up when I saw him, cannot believe I’ve been down bad for him for 10 years omg. Anyway I hope you all enjoy this fic, it is VERY self-indulgent! (Also please don’t think too much about the timeline)
You were without a doubt going to kill Keith Kogane.
After the last mission with the paladins, a source of yours reached out with the a lead you’d been investigating for months. It felt as though the clouds parted and the sun finally shone for the first time in weeks. This comet had become the biggest pain in the ass since you lost it.
The next day, you approached Shiro asking for clearance to take a pod in order to handle a personal matter.
It wasn’t out of the ordinary for this to happen. The paladins went out on their own pretty often. With the little free time they had or on their own solo missions, they took the lions freely with the only requirement being communicating about where they went.
This mission though… this one was a little different.
Under no circumstance could Lotor find out.
Allura may have grown an affinity for the prince, going as far as making an alliance with him. However, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of you.
This was a man who tried to kill you, on multiple occasions.
She may have been ready to sweep it under the rug with the discovery of his Altean heritage, but you weren’t. This was the son of a dictator. This was a prince who once held a sword to your neck while his generals had a gun to your temple, sparing you nothing but a smile.
He was without a doubt, his father's son.
So with the slight possibility at finding the remains of the comet, you had to go. You weren’t convinced that Lotor had only made one ship with it. There had to be something else.
Shiro cleared you with no problem. The only concern now was having to remove the tracking tech on the pod. You covered your tracks and came up with a whole story, but with one look at where you were, it would fall apart in an instant.
Fortunately, after four nights of messing with wires and panels with your rudimentary knowledge of Altean, you managed to disconnect the location services of the pod. You left before anyone woke and shut down all comms on the trip on the preface of fear of interception. Travel took a little under a day.
The slight dilemma about the mission was where your “lead” was. It was in the Kexeresa system. There wasn’t much information about it. They were on the careful edge of rebel fighters and Galran empire, standing on a precipice ready to fall onto anyone’s side. The team hadn’t managed to get all the way out here yet. There were only eight of you, and the whole universe to save.
The pod landed on the outskirts of the city. Thankfully, no one was guarding the entry and exit of the planet's atmosphere. Making your way into town, you were grateful there weren’t many strange looks shot in your direction. The pros of being more on the back end is no one knew your face. And seeing as you didn’t have a lion or paladin armor, it made these missions less complicated than what you were accustomed to.
The man you needed to meet was in a bar. Stepping thorugh the entryway, you almost laughed. It looked like the Cantina from the Star Wars movies you watched back at home. It was almost comical how similar the layout was. The band was in the corner, the bar top was in the center, and the pale sandstone of the walls transported you onto a movie set you hadn’t thought of in years.
Nistos was toward the back, sat in a booth with a drink in hand. While not being Galran himself, he associated with many. The picture you’d found in the system did not do his appearance justice. He was horrific to look at, his presence disgusted you. He had a hooked nose with a sage green complexion and beady eyes that eyed up every woman walking past him.
This was either going to be a lot easier or a lot harder than you thought.
Taking a deep breath and accepting your fate, you searched for the restroom. There was only one way you were going to get the information you wanted, even if it mean sacrificing your dignity.
No one was here to witness it anyway, so was there really any harm?
Your legs carried you past the swinging door and you found yourself face to face with your reflection in the cloudy mirror.
This was going to have to work.
Immediately, you pull the hair tie and let your hair fall loose from where it was strung together on the back of your head. As your hair fell around your shoulders, your fingers teased at your roots, increasing the volume while making it a socially acceptable mess. Then you pulled down the hem of your shirt. Your grip teased at the neckline, stretching it to make it sink in a way only the pervert of a man you were going to interact with be tempted by. As your final act of abandoning any class you had left, the knife you stored in your boots went to your leggings; trimming them to a length you hadn’t allowed yourself to wear at all since departing Earth. But you had a mission, and that came first.
After cutting the strips of fabric off your legs, you glanced back at your reflection. She was every bit the tramp you needed to be tonight. With a deep sigh, you don’t dwell on it any longer and leave the last shred of dignity you had with the scraps of spandex in the trash.
You’d made it about twenty minutes into the conversation when you notice him. Your hair was twirled around your index finger and you let out your fiftieth high-pitched giggle when you study the shift in environment. It was getting darker out and the bar was getting livelier. Looking past Nistos' left shoulder, your eyes gravitate toward the mask decorated by three purple orbs lingering in the shadows.
It was a miracle no one notice him.
Your heart sunk to your stomach in an instant. It didn’t matter that you didn’t see his face. Based on the build and stance alone, you knew the exact expression that the mask would reveal. There was no one else in the universe that would attune himself to you in that way.
When he noticed that you finally found him, his head motioned the exit next to him.
Oh fuck no.
You searched for an ounce of a lead for months and now that you find it, Keith thought he could swoop in? Nice try.
With a laugh that was far too flirtatious for your liking and for what Nistos was saying, you drape your left arm over his shoulder. Your hand falls behind his neck, out of sight, when you lift your middle finger toward the man who was for sure going to ruin this.
It took him five minutes.
A bomb went off in a two-mile radius from where you were, the bar evacuated within seconds. You came to find out later that it was in fact an abandoned warehouse, so no one got hurt.
Well, no one except Keith.
Once you’d been rushed outside, you saw him slip behind the building. Nistos had already high tailed away from you, leaving you no choice but to stomped in the direction of the ravenette. Before he had the chance to turn around, your palm met the crown of his head as you smacked him.
“What could that have possibly been for?” His words came out modulated, the Marmora mask disappearing as he finished the question.
“You motherfucker.” The words were spit out like venom off your tongue.
He merely crossed his arms. “What’re you doing here? I thought you guys were planning for Lotor’s crowning.”
“I was following a lead.” You managed to grit out, teeth pressed together. It was truly mind boggling how you never managed to be in the same orbit as him without some fight breaking out.
“Really?” he deadpans, “that was following a lead?”
“Yes.”
His eyes roam over you, and you finally see it. The tick in his jaw, the way he swallowed too hard, the purple of his eyes darkening to match his pupils.
He was jealous.
“You’re kidding.” Disbelief was mixed in with your tone. His eyes flicker back to yours and defensiveness pools into his posture.
“What?”
“You’re jealous.”
He scoffs. “I’m not.”
“Oh my god, you so were. You were jealous of that piece of shit.”
Even in the darkness of the night, you can see how his cheeks tint to a pale pink and he remains silent. He knows there’s no winning this battle. You may be comfortable with sacrificing some dignity, but Keith wasn’t.
“What lead were you following?”
The desire to tease him hadn’t entirely left your system; unfortunately, there were more pressing matters.
A part of you missed this. You and Keith knew each other back from the Garrison and to put it simply, you hated each other. You were the most competitive duo in your class. After one bad decision and going out with the group, you found yourself swept across space with them.
Playing nice with Keith was probably the hardest part in the beginning. It was a long road of bickering, cursing, and full on war. It was months before you could be in the same room together without a snide remark. You still don’t really know when it happened, maybe it was at the mall, or maybe it was when Shiro disappeared but slowly, he turned into someone to lean on. One night the line between distaste and something more blurred. Neither of you mentioned it, not to the paladins, and definitely not to each other.
There wasn’t much to tell anyway. The only things that changed were that he slept in your bed occasionally, he let you near him at times when it all got too much, and you traded kisses in the dark and acted like nothing happened once morning came.
It was a quiet type of change that no one caught on. But you never missed it. You never missed how his body turned to yours, how he sought you out after a mission, how he always patched you up. How he held you on the nights when nightmares truck him.
Then he left.
He joined the blade and you couldn’t hold it against him, not really. Not when nothing was ever going to come of you two. Not when the fate of the universe rested on your shoulders.
“It was about the comet.” The answer came out oddly soft and he perked up. He was never going to forget that mission. It haunted all of you. “I got some chatter from a rebel fighter that Nistos was working with some Galran generals to transport a rare type of metal. He’s been bragging about it at the bar for a few weeks. I looked up some of the intel and when I checked the receiving port he was talking about, it didn’t exist in Galran records. So then I found the generals involved in the contract, and Acxa signed off on it. Lotor may have Allura and the paladins convinced but I’m not sold yet, there’s something more we’re missing.”
It was frustrating sometimes. The three moons on this planet managed to light up his face just right, reminding you of all the nights he held you in your room. He was staring down at you so intensely, you were tempted to look away. There was so much more you wanted to say but couldn’t.
How could you?
How could you look at him and tell him that you were happy he was here? That you were happy he found you. How could you look him in the eye and tell him that fighting with him tonight was the best thing that happened in weeks? Because being with him was better than any lead you could chase.
All he does after processing the information is nod, a small simple thing and he looks away.
“Let me get you back to the ship. I should probably say hi to the others.”
There’s a new cut on his neck. The scab was fresh and pink, fading at the edges ready to scar. Before you could stop yourself, your nails were tracing the top of it that peaked from the top of his suit.
“Where did you get that?”
His breath hitched in his throat. It had been so long since someone touched him this gently. As if he could break instead of something to break.
“Training session gone wrong,” he whispered. The night was loud around you, panicked voices from the bar, officials checking out the warehouse. It was almost necessary for this to be quiet, reserved just for you.
You hummed in reply, dropping your hand to your side once again.
“I missed you.” He whispers again, dropping his forehead to yours. You weren’t sure when the proximity between you shrank and he was millimeters away, yet you couldn’t push him away. It was almost as if your body wouldn’t let you.
His confession landed somewhere you didn’t want to think of as it cut right through you. You missed him too, it was impossible not to, but he left. He made his choice and you couldn’t follow. A small thought in the back of your head always wondered what would have happened if you asked him to stay. If you fed into that selfish desire to keep him with you in the walls of the castle. Maybe something might've come of you two. Maybe he would still hold you at night. Maybe you could look at the dip in your mattress and not be haunted by the fact he no longer comes home.
It's difficult to stomach the fact you barely talk anymore. He goes on month long missions and then calls get missed, words are lost in translation, and next thing you know it’s been three months since you’ve seen him.
“I missed you too Kogane.”
And with that, you just let it exist. You let the small confession of two young adults with a burden none should bare lay between you, because there was nothing to be done. You were going to have to miss each other until the war was over. You were going to have to love him from a distance because you were in too deep. You lost too much of yourself to this war to give up here, to ask him to come back to you.
So as a final act of love for now, you give yourself this gift. You steal this small moment from the universe behind a bar, allowing yourselves to hold each other one more time. Because unfortunately, there’s always a chance it may be your last.
•───────•°•♡•°•───────•
A/N: Can't believe i'm writing a voltron oneshot in the year 2026 omg
Taglists All: @gglouise23 @demigod-jack-hearth @nicndick @t1mbits @princessak @slut4hotppl @bat1nsignia @starr-jazz @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @mystiquevoid @patientofarkhamasylum @darkxwolfsstuff @starkkat @loserinadress @leovaldez0924 @actualunicornn @batwngs @quitecontrary69
🖤Haircut🖤
Keith x Reader
CW: None!
AN (Sorry I've been so dead and this is so short, my motivation is at an all time low, i'll try to get back to posting regularly)
