#lance mcclain fluff

You felt blue. It was ironic, seeing as how your boyfriend is the Blue Paladin, but that had nothing to do with it. 

You thought that Lance and Allura looked... better together. Better than when he stood at your side. She was a beautiful Altean, and a princess. You were just that one kid who always sat in the back at the Garrison, too quiet to be heard and seen. 

You were the girl who didn’t spend time to put on makeup and doing some special hairstyle; you traded that time for more sleep. Jewelry? Never heard of it. Flirting? Studies and academics were more important than trying to get a guy to take a second look at you.

But Allura? She was everything you weren’t. The hair, the eyes, the clothes, the clear skin, perfect posture, and overwhelming confidence you didn’t think was possible. Before Lance fell for you, he flirted with Allura every chance he got. 

Does he still want to?

That thought constantly worried you, but you wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to stay with you. With every look at Allura, you compared her appearance to your own. Your reflection didn’t please in the slightest every time you gave a mirror a glance.

So there you were, ten minutes away from having to go to a Coalition event. Usually, you went in relatively nice clothes... Not a long graceful dress like this. The deep blue color was a different look for you. The high slit on the side showed off your legs, which were almost always covered. The front of the dress went lower than anything you ever wore before. It took you five minutes alone to put on winged eyeliner Shiro was your example without messing up.

You were already considering looking more formal than usual for this event, but you knew you had to when Allura stated that the traditional outfits for the natives were very... revealing, to say the least. It would be rude for a female (by their standards) to come to a celebration showing very little skin. You didn’t like that they had a custom such as that, but it was better than some of the previous traditions.

The shoes/heels the natives made and wore were surprisingly comfortable. Very similar to Earth, but not painful or hard to walk in at all. You put them on with ease as you quickly finished doing your hair. You didn’t believe people actually take that much time to do hair and makeup and such; it took so long, and the fact that some people do it on a regular basis boggled your mind.

You checked a second time, and you decided you were set. You made sure you weren’t going to trip on your dress, you practiced walking in the shoes since you first got them, and you took every other precaution you could think of. You grabbed a stylish jacket (it wasn’t the best jacket, but the best one in your possession) before you finally left your room.

Allura’s loud, excited squeal caught you off guard. She and Coran were the only ones left in the Castle of Lions, not that you were complaining. The rest of the team had to get there early, for obvious reasons. You definitely weren’t prepared for everyone to see you at once, but Allura still caught you way off guard.

“You look amazing, (Y/n)!” Allura gushed and she ran around you in a circle to get a three sixty look. Her excitement was that of a three year old human hyped up on Monster and sugary candy. “You did this all on your own!? I barely recognize you!”

Her praise was comforting and surprisingly boosted your confidence a bit, but you still felt like nothing compared to her appearance. “I did. It was pretty hard to get my hands on some of the other makeup, but the other stuff you let me borrow worked great.”

“That’s lovely!” Allura exclaimed, clapping her hands. Her eyes were lit like a Christmas tree. Come along; we mustn't be late!” You yelped as she grabbed your wrist and all but dragged you to the exit. 

Allura whispered and encouraged you to take off your jacket once you were at the scene. Showing this much skin made you more nervous than you thought, but it was part of their culture. You didn’t have to like it, but you had to respect it.

Right as you slipped the jacket off you shoulders, you saw Lance mingling through the crowd. Despite being, well, Lance, all he did with the females was throw a charming smile and move on. Loyalty was his middle name and it was very touching.

You took only one step in his direction before walking straight into a rock-solid chest. You looked up and there stood the event’s host; Prince Vruar of Skudoria. “What is a lovely woman like you doing here alone?”

The whole ‘lovely woman’ thing threw you off but you didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, just looking for my boyfriend,” You knew exactly what the Prince was going to ssay next, something like ‘I know he won’t mind if I steal a dance’, but you shot him down before he could release a word. “He’s the Blue Paladin of Voltron, actually. And I think he’s over there; it was nice talking to you!”

At the mention of who Lance was, Vruar backed off immediately. Although he was royalty, he didn’t want to take any chances in upsetting a Paladin of Voltron. That would be a big mistake for anyone. Vruar took a step back to let you pass and you could sense a tad of fear in him. It was amusing.

You were glad things didn’t go down the stereotypical route. A guy wanting to dance with you, you saying no but he insists, boyfriend comes along and tries to fight him, and so on. 

Thank God my life didn’t turn into an overused trope.

You tapped on Lance’s shoulder and he turned around, holding a hopefully non-alcoholic drink in his hand. You wanted to laugh when he made a confused face; he didn’t recognize you!

Not at first, anyway. “Hello there, m’lady! I’m the Blue Paladin of Voltron, but you can call me- No way!”

There it is.

Lance nearly dropped his drink when he recognized you. The clothes and makeup threw him off, but there was no mistaking your (e/c) eyes and beautiful form. “(Y/n)!?” He blushed and you felt satisfied, especially when his eyes took a moment to roam all of your exposed skin.

“Yes, this is she.” You giggled. “Do you like it?” You hoped he did. You would be crushed if he didn’t.

“Like it!? I love it! You’re gorgeous!” Lance exclaimed. He then fumbled upon thinking he made a mistake. “I mean, y-you’re gorgeous every day! This is just new! New is lovely!”

You nearly snorted at Lance’s attempt to fix it, but it wasn’t broken in the first place. “Lance, it’s okay! I get what you mean, babe, you didn’t say anything wrong.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence.

Lance visibly relaxed and he grabbed your hand. He leaned down and gently kissed the back of it, maintaining eye contact the entire time. “It is a privilege to be in the presence of such an enchanting woman.” In a heartbeat, Lance switched from panic to suave and flirtatious. “May I have this dance?”

“I’d be honored to dance with one of the universe’s heroes.” You said in the most elegant voice possible, but you ended in a laugh. The voice just didn’t suit you. Lance swept you off into a waltz with a snicker and a heart-stopping grin.

You were in utter shock when Shiro announced it. “What do you mean I offended their Queen?! Are you kidding me!?”

“Your dress was the same colors as hers and it turns out that Skudorian royals find it offensive. It’s like wearing white to someone else’s wedding.” Pidge cut in. 

You were beyond annoyed. Of course this had to happen when you finally try to look fancy for a formal occasion. “This is so stupid, I shouldn’t have put on this dress in the first place...”

“Either way, this is going to be difficult to fix,” Allura sighed. “Despite what the King and Prince are telling her, she is still upset, and that is putting a strain on the alliance.” The tension in the room was tangible. “This may not end well.”

You didn’t need to hear anyone say it. This was your fault. You felt some of the frustration being directed towards you and you didn’t blame them. You turned around and took off your shoes as you headed to your room. You ignored the few calls of your name as the door slid shut.

You tossed your shoes to the other side of your room as you sat on your bed. Guilt was heavy on your shoulders; all you wanted to do was look pretty, like Allura. You wanted to look good next to Lance, like Allura did.

“Maybe she’s better for Lance...” You muttered quietly.

“Who’s better for me?” Lance’s concerned voice made you jump.

When did he get here?

You shifted nervously as Lance closed the door and sat on the floor in front of you. Why he chose the hard floor instead of the comfy mattress, you didn’t know, but you didn’t question him. It wasn’t the right time for it.

He leaned his head forward and he caught your gaze. “Hmm?” Lance still wanted an answer.

“Allura...” You said it so quietly, Lance couldn’t hear you. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. “I think Allura would be better for you. I’m always wearing these normal clothes with normal hair, no makeup, no jewelry, nothing like that. I’m nothing compared to her. When I see her standing next to you, I-”

“Okay, hold it.” Lance got you to stop talking. “Is that why you got all dressed up for the party? So you could look like her?”

You nodded lightly and you were no longer able to look him in the eye. You started to tear up.

Lance shook his head so hard, your thought it was going to fly off his body. “I don’t think so! I’m not with you just for your looks -you are stunning, by the way- or anything like that. I love you for who you are as a person. Babe, there is no one like you, so you don't have to try and be someone else.”

It took Lance a little bit to convince you, but by the time he did, you were laying on your bed with your back against his chest and his arm wrapped around your midsection. Lance’s breath drifted across your neck and it almost tickled, but you were more focused on how uncomfortable the dress was getting. You still hadn’t taken it off.

You opened you mouth to say something, but Lance’s tired voice cut you off. “You’ve had this on for a while,” He yawned. “I might not be one to wear dresses, but I can imagine that it’s getting less than comfortable at this point.”

“Are you trying something, Lance McClain?” You raised an eyebrow as you stared at him.

“Yeah, trying to make sure you feel happy and comfy, (Y/n) (L/n).” Lance shot back and he gingerly got off your bed. “Here, I’ll find you some pyjamas.”

Your heart melted and you watched Lance riffle through your drawers, muttering to himself as he examined each piece of clothing. The lengths he went to make you happy were remarkable. How many boyfriends would search through your drawers, critiquing all of your clothes to find the most suitable sleepwear?

Only one, and that was Lance Mcclain.

The ending is so bad and rushed, I apologize, I just took my adderal.