#m writes voltron

[mad-madam-m]

Are We or Aren't We?

Title: Are We or Aren't We? Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Keith/Shiro Word count: 1338 Rating: T Summary: Everybody seems to think Keith and Shiro are dating. The problem is, they're not.

Or are they?

Read it on AO3!

[mad-madam-m]

Bouquet

Title: Bouquet Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Keith/Shiro Word count: 1169 Rating: G Summary: Keith catches the bouquet at Lance and Allura's wedding, leaving him and Shiro with an important conversation to have.

Read it on AO3!

[mad-madam-m]

The Measure of a Man (Voltron/The Addams Family)

For the prompt: The Addams Family/Any, Any, 'you're family now' Keith stalked into the conservatory, sword in one hand and looking ready to strangle someone with the other. "Shiro! Why. Does your uncle. Keep trying to sword fight with me?!" "Because he's trying to make sure you're good enough for Shiro," Wednesday said from her bench under the African stranglers. Keith choked on nothing. "What?!" Shiro shrugged helplessly. "That's how Uncle Gomez says he determines a measure of a man. How well he reacts to surprise attacks. I tried to tell him he didn't have to worry about that with you, but he wouldn't listen." Morticia smiled beatifically at Keith and fed another forkful of hamburger to Cleopatra. "It's so good to see you and Gomez getting along so well. I knew you had to be special for Shiro to bring you home, but Gomez's instincts of a person are never wrong." "En garde, Shiro's boyfriend!" echoed from the living room, and Keith cursed and prepared for another match.

[mad-madam-m]

Amazing

Title: Amazing Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Pidge/Allura Word count: 420 Rating: G Summary: Pidge considers just how utterly amazing her girlfriend is. Read it on AO3!

[mad-madam-m]

So @arahir posted a bunch of cursed Sheith AUs on Twitter yesterday and...yeah. I’m not sorry.

AU where they are afraid of insects

"You get it," Keith said.

Shiro gripped his shoulder harder. "No. I got the last one. It's your turn."

"You didn't get the last one. You screamed and threw a shoe at the last one and it disappeared."

"That counts!" Shiro protested.

Keith glared at him. "That doesn't count! It could be anywhere."

Shiro winced. He tried really hard not to think about that. "It kind of counts."

The cockroach skittered closer to the couch where they were perched. Shiro shouted in surprise. Shouted. He did not scream. Keith tried to climb behind him, fingers digging into Shiro's upper arm.

"Where's the flyswatter?" Shiro asked

"In the kitchen." Keith shuddered. "Because I needed it to deal with flies."

Cold horror closed around Shiro's spine. "We can't get to it from here."

"I know," Keith said grimly.

Shiro was just about to reconcile himself to being stuck on the couch with Keith forever—or at least until the cockroach made its way back outside—when Kosmo trotted in from the bedroom, took one look at the cockroach, and ate it with a single snap of his jaws.

"Oh, thank God," Shiro said.

Keith actually sagged in relief. "Good boy."

Shiro shakily stepped off the couch and held up his hand to help Keith down. "Is it bad that I'm considering proposing marriage to your dog right now?"

"No." Keith took his hand and hopped onto the floor beside him. "I'm considering the same thing."

Kosmo eyed them both judgmentally and shoved his head between them, demanding pets. They immediately obliged. Hell, Shiro would let Kosmo sleep in their bed if he would keep eating bugs. A few minutes of petting him were nothing.

"We should get him a steak dinner, at least," Shiro said. "For being the only one of us who can take care of bugs."

"Probably extra treats, too," Keith said. "It's a hard job."

"Woof," Kosmo agreed, and dropped to the floor for belly rubs.

[mad-madam-m]

Fwoom.

Shiro jerked out of a dead sleep, blinking blearily around the room. “What was that?”

Keith grunted and pulled a pillow tighter over his head. “Nothing.”

Fwoom.

Shiro scrubbed a hand through his hair. “That’s...an explosion?”

“Just ignore it.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “You want me to ignore an explosion?”

Fwoom.

“Three explosions?” he corrected.

Keith groaned. “It’s not a big deal.”

Fwoom.

Shiro was more fully awake now. “Are you seriously telling me explosions outside our apartment aren’t a big deal?”

“They’re pretty far from our apartment,” Keith said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

“Not the point.” Shiro tugged the pillow back. “Why don’t you think they’re a big deal?”

Fwoom.

Keith sighed and sat up. “One, we live near a military base. Two, the emergency sirens aren’t going off. Three, nobody’s called you or me. So it’s not a big deal.”

He...had a point with that. Shiro sent his arm across the room to grab his communicator off the desk; sure enough, nobody had contacted him, which meant whatever was happening wasn’t an emergency. He supposed there was a chance all the notification systems at the Garrison had failed simultaneously, but it was a pretty small chance. If there were actual danger, he or Keith would’ve heard about it by now.

He dropped the communicator on the desk and lay back down in bed. Keith settled in next to him, eschewing his pillow for Shiro’s chest.

Shiro trailed his hand through Keith’s shaggy black hair. “You’re pretty calm about explosions.”

Keith yawned. “I’ve saved the universe multiple times. It’ll take more than this to get me up before noon on my day off.”

Shiro laughed and tugged at a lock of his hair. “What will it take to get you up before noon on your day off?”

Keith’s only response was a soft snore.

Shiro chuckled and held him closer, tracing his fingers along Keith’s arm and side, and slowly drifted off himself.

Fwoom.

“Keith---”

“Ignore it.”

[mad-madam-m]

A Fruit-ful Day

I said months ago that I had a hankering to write a fluffy fic with Keith and Shiro picking fruit and making jam, and then @aredblush doodled bribery. Then season 7 happened and other Things and anyway I finally got around to writing it just in time to celebrate fall.

And yes, this is based on my not!fic from this ask.

"Here." Keith picked the apple out of the tree and tossed it into Shiro's waiting bucket. "I think that's the last one for today."

Shiro eyed the tree, and then shifted his bucket to his left arm so he could send his right one up to grab two more apples just above Keith's head.

Keith made a face and hopped off the ladder to land lightly on the ground. "Show off."

Shiro grinned. "Takes one to know one, huh?"

Keith gave him a cocky smile and picked up the basket of strawberries and blackberries sitting beside the ladder. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Shiro laughed and bumped Keith's shoulder, then started back toward the house. It was a warm day, but the morning had held just enough chill to remind him that fall was on the way. This was probably the last harvest he'd get from the strawberries and blackberries for the year, but he'd have a few more weeks of apples.

After everything—after they'd broken the Galra's hold on the universe and started with the slow, agonizing process of building a peaceful coalition—Shiro had bought this house with its land on a whim, after both Sam Holt and Dr. Edwards, the therapist Sam, Keith, and Krolia had badgered him into seeing for his PTSD, had suggested he find a hobby outside of work. Gardening had sounded about as far from flying and space travel as he could get. Not that he didn't still love his job; he did, but Shiro desperately needed something in his life with lower stakes. Nobody died if his strawberries didn't bloom.

It had turned out to be exactly what he needed. Gardening steadied him, calmed him, helped him reconnect with the world. The cycle of planting and growing things didn't deviate much throughout the year, and Shiro had found he could easily spend an entire weekend with his hands in the dirt, pulling out weeds and pruning his plants. It was good to help things grow, coaxing them out of the ground, after spending so much time dealing death.

His second year with the garden, Keith had asked if he could use some of Shiro's fruit to make jam. Of course Shiro had said yes; he'd chosen to plant fruits and vegetables with the intention of sharing them with his friends. That mostly meant putting strawberries and blackberries into little pint boxes and shoving them off on an absolutely delighted Hunk, who returned the favor by making Shiro all the blackberry cobbler he could eat.

But with Keith, that meant him showing up first thing in the morning to help Shiro in the garden, weeding and harvesting whatever was ready to be harvested. Shiro had tried telling him he didn't have to, but Keith insisted; if he was going to be using the fruit for jam, he should help take care of it.

Shiro didn't mind. It meant they spent a lot of time together where they were both sweaty and tired and covered in dirt, but happy and relaxed, and sometimes Shiro thought this was even more steadying than gardening.

He and Keith hauled their buckets and baskets into the kitchen and then went to wash up, then returned to the kitchen to prep the fruit. Some Keith would take home, some would go to Hunk and Shay, and a good amount would be frozen for later.

Shiro sat down with the strawberries and blackberries to weigh them out, and Keith started peeling the apples they were going to freeze.

"I'm going to try apple butter this year," Keith said.

Shiro raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? Your peach butter was really good."

Keith blushed faintly and smiled. "Thanks. I think I like it a little better than jam."

"Making it or eating it?"

Keith tossed a few apple slices into the bowl in front of him. "Eating it. Making it..." He shrugged. "It's the same."

Keith used jam-making the same way Shiro used gardening. They hadn't ever discussed what it did for him, but from what Shiro could see, it helped.

Shiro gave him a blackberry, and Keith popped it into his mouth.

"Are you going to expand the garden again next year?" Keith asked.

Shiro nodded. "I'm planning on it. I haven't really decided what else to plant, though. What would you like?"

"Raspberries. So I can try the triple berry jam Pidge has been pestering me for."

"All right. I'll look into it."

Keith's eyes widened. "Really? You don't have to. I was joking."

"I wasn't." Shiro rolled his shoulders; they were a little sore from working in the garden all morning. "I like growing things, but I don't use them much. If there's something I can grow that you'll use, I'm happy to do it."

Keith's face softened. "Thank you, Shiro."

It was that face that made Shiro's heart do stupid, acrobatic-related things, and he cleared his throat and went back to separating the strawberries and blackberries. "Of course. No problem."

He had no idea when his feelings for Keith had evolved from friendship to love. Parts of his memory remained muddled, where he wasn't sure what had been him and what had been his clone and what was both of them, or even if any of it mattered. It had taken him ages to understand that regardless of where and when it had started, these feelings were his now and they were true.

Of course, he still hadn't had the courage to talk to Keith about it.

But sitting here, working in companionable silence while Keith frowned over his pile of apples with his long hair tied back and his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth, made Shiro's heart ache with how much he wanted this to be his life. How much he wanted to reach over and take Keith's hand and rub his thumb over it and know that Keith would be coming upstairs to go to bed with him tonight, instead of going back home once they'd finished with the fruit.

Just tell him had been Hunk's advice. You're a pining idiot had been Matt's. Pidge had just sung, "Keith and Shiro sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G" until Shiro had physically covered her mouth to keep Keith from overhearing.

There was a reason Hunk got the most fruit every year.

Shiro put aside the pints he was delivering to Hunk and started hulling the strawberries to freeze.

"I'll probably try making the apple butter today," Keith said.

Shiro tossed aside the tops of the strawberries he'd cut off. "Yeah? Need a guinea pig?"

Keith's eyes lit up. "I'd love one. Want to come over tomorrow and taste-test? I've got some of Hunk's bread."

"That sounds amazing," Shiro said with feeling. "I'll bring lunch. Or dinner?"

"Dinner would be great."

Shiro's heart did a little flip, and he had to consciously remind himself to calm down. "Great," he echoed. "I'll be there with bells on. Or, you know, with pizza."

"I'd prefer the pizza," Keith said, "but as long as you're there, I'll be happy."

"Same. Even though you'll...obviously be there. Since it's your house."

Keith threw back his head and laughed, and he was so damned beautiful that Shiro stood up from his chair just enough to lean over the table and kiss him.

Which, he realized most of the way through the motion, was a very bad idea.

Of course, by the time he realized it to stop himself, his lips were already on Keith's.

Shiro pulled back, his face as hot as the surface of the sun. "Uh..."

He searched for an explanation, even though he wasn't sure what that would be. However, half his brain was too busy cataloging the exact shade of purple of Keith's eyes and how long his eyelashes were to give him anything articulate, and the other half was too busy panicking.

"Oh thank God," Keith said, and cupped the back of Shiro's neck to pull him in.

This wasn't a brush of the lips; this was a kiss, the kind that took Shiro's breath away and made him feel like he was flying once again, breaking free of the atmosphere to touch the stars. But it wasn't the stars; it was Keith, who tasted like blackberries and who pulled Shiro closer like he wanted to know all of him, like he'd been starving for this the same way Shiro had.

The only reason Shiro pulled back was because he needed to breathe. Even so, it took a few dazed, shaky breaths before he was even close to steady again.

"Was that...okay?" Keith asked uncertainly.

Shiro nodded. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

A long, long time, if he was being honest, but they could discuss that later.

The uncertainty faded from Keith's face, replaced with a brilliant smile. "You have?"

Shiro touched his face, resting his hand over the scar that arced down to Keith's jaw. "Yeah."

Keith covered Shiro's hand with his, his violet eyes luminous. "Me, too."

"So," Shiro stroked his thumb over Keith's cheek, "does that make tomorrow a date?" 

"If you want it to be," Keith whispered.

Shiro's heart tripped over itself trying to find its rhythm again. "Or...I could come over tonight? Help you make apple butter and jam?"

Keith pressed his lips together like he was smothering a laugh. "We'll probably burn it."

"Hey, I'm not that bad of a cook."

Keith shook his head. "I meant I'll be paying more attention to you than the jam."

"Oh," Shiro said. "So—"

"Be there at six tonight," Keith cut in. "And don't forget the pizza."

Shiro's smile threatened to crack his face. "I'll see you then."

(They did not burn the apple butter. They did, however, burn the first batch of blackberry jam. Shiro was only a little sorry, and even less sorry when Keith gave him a jar of the burned jam with the label "First Date.")

[mad-madam-m]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Relationship: Keith/Shiro Rating: T Word Count: 5773 Summary:

After visiting a destroyed Galra village, the paladins return to the castle with one survivor: a baby Galra who absolutely won't let go of Keith.

---

Kolivan responded quickly to Allura's hail, and gave them the good news: the Blade of Marmora did indeed work with placing war orphans with foster families, and they had several who might be a good fit.

The bad news was that it would be at least two weeks before they could get to the castle to pick the kid up.

"How are we supposed to handle a Galra baby for two weeks?!" Keith exclaimed.

Me: "There's probably too much about trying to get a kid to sleep in this fic." Me: *considers the amount of time I've spent putting my godson to sleep* Me: Never mind, there is the right amount.

Yet another fic under the "I have to deal with a screaming child, thus so do my OTPs" umbrella. This one was actually conceived roughly, oh, three days after my godson was born? I described the first scene to my friend (specifically, the part about the baby Galra clinging to Keith's leg), and she laughed so hard she almost fell over and begged me to write it.

Said godson is now almost 18 months old so uh. It took me awhile. XD

Thank you to cobrilee for the beta read and for the title. <3

Read it on AO3!