#reader x lance

"I love it when you grab the sheets." Lance said, bending over to reach your ear. Your knuckles had gone white with your grip as you help back some of your pleasure. Your body was shaking as you managed to crack your eyes and look at Lance.

His red spiky hair was sticking to his forehead and he had a sheen of sweat on his body that made him almost glimmer in the dull bedroom light. His face was flush with exertion as his cock slide in and out of you and a slow and languid pace.

One hand was gripping your hip while the other hand held a vibrator up against you. You had no idea how many times you had cum already, but you were almost at your limit.

“Lance?”

He flinched and jumped.

“Y/N, whew-“ He held his chest and sighed,

Relieved,

“You scared me.”

Y/N raised a brow. “What’s wrong?”

Lance paused,

Then leaned against a nearby wall,

Trying to make it look cool and casual.

It didn’t.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Lance, you’re pacing the commons room and it’s 3:12am.”

They always spoke in Earth time.

Just the two of them.

It made them feel more normal.

More at home.

Lance stood upright,

A hand lingering against the wall.

“I’ve been in my head a lot.”

Y/N’s heart immediately cracked.

She took a hesitant step forward,

But didn’t want to get too close without permission.

“Lance-“

“My brain is too loud these days.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head,

As if trying to shake the thoughts from his head.

When Lance got stressed, he got like this.

Distant and flustered,

Frustrated within his own head.

“Is that why you can’t sleep?”

He sighed in response.

Hesitantly, Y/N made their way to a nearby couch,

Sliding into a seat,

And squeezing their nervous fingers in their lap.

“I’m here.” Was all they said.

It was all that was needed to bring Lance immediate comfort.

He slipped into the spot beside them,

His head landing on their shoulder,

His eyes, closed,

His fingers, intertwined with their own.

“I’m in the way.”

“What?” Y/N’s voice was fragile,

Reflecting how heartbroken they were hearing the statement.

“You’re never in the way. Who told you that?”

“No one.”

He squeezed Y/N’s hand tighter.

“Myself.”

Y/N sank deeper into the couch,

Their free hand reaching around Lance’s back,

Fiddling with the hair on the sides of his head.

“Lance, you’re not in the way. You’re not a burden.”

“I can’t offer the same as everyone else.”

He frowned, and Y/N could feel it dig into their shoulder.

“I can’t fight or think or run the same. I’m not buff or brilliant or a great fighter.”

“But you’re you, Lance.” Y/N hushed,

Capturing their cheeks,

Bringing his face close to theirs.

So they could speak directly to him.

“You’re funny and a great shooter and bring joy that none of the others can bring.”

“That’s not true,”

Y/N frowned at him.

“Hunk and Pidge and Coran bring plenty of joy.”

Y/N forced down a smirk.

The selected names they found to be funny.

“But they don’t bring the joy that you do.”

Lance furrowed his brows, confused.

“You bring a special type of joy that no one else can replicate.”

They brushed some hair away from his eyes,

Smiling tenderly and sincerely at his quivering eyes.

“It doesn’t matter if other paladins can make others happy. They can’t make anyone ‘Lance happy’.”

They gave a gentle laugh,

Stroking at his red cheeks.

“Only you can do that.” They finished.

Y/N could see the faint tears in his eyes,

Bubbling beneath the surface,

And wrapped him in a hug so he could compose himself.

“It’s okay to feel down on yourself sometimes,” Y/N hushed.

Lance squeezed them tighter,

Burying his head in their shoulder,

Taking in their familiar smell and warmth,

The comfort that only they could provide to him.

“But you are needed and wanted here. We can’t do this without you.”

Lance squeezed his partner even tighter,

His tears melting into their sweater.

They stayed like that,

Y/N stroking his hair and back,

Hushing him calm.

“I love you.” They hushed. “And you’re valued.”

A few hours later, the paladins found them in the common room,

Still on the couches,

Curled into one another,

Fast asleep.

It was the best sleep Lance had in a long time.

Lotor had told them of your secret, that you were a spy this whole time for the Galra Empire. Nobody believed him at first, not after everything you’ve been through with them. But you couldn’t find it in you to lie anymore.

So you gave in. You admitted that, yes, everything Lotor was saying about you was true.

It hurt so much to do this to all of them, Lance especially. You two had been in a relationship for almost a year now. It began soon after the team seemingly “saved” you from the Galra. You two just seemed to click so well together. At first, you only did it because you thought it might help to gather information.

But you’ve come to truly fall for Lance.

The look on Lance’s face broke your heart, but you had no doubt that your confession had completely shattered his. You knew his self-esteem was already bad enough. This was sure to break him, and you hated thinking about it.

But thinking about it was all you could do at the moment, stuck in your own cell now.

So far, every member of the team had come in at least once to see you. Well… everyone except Lance. They all wore looks of absolute disgust and sadness on their faces, shouting things at you in anger.

“We trusted you!”

“How could you do this?”

“You broke Lance’s heart!”

Coran was the only one who didn’t yell. He looked on the verge of tears and spoke in a quiet, shaky voice.

“I’m disappointed in you.”

Every word hurt, made you want to cry, but you knew you deserved it. You didn’t even want to be with the Galra anymore, you just wanted your space family back.

“Lance!  Where the hell are you?!” You screamed into your phone, leaving a seventh voice message on your best friend’s phone.  Lance had left for his friend, Matt's, bachelor party over nine hours ago, and he promised he’d be home by midnight.  It was now two in the morning and you hadn’t gotten so much as a text from your roommate!  He was so dead when he got home.

You and Lance had been best friends since the eighth grade, which was weird, considering he was the star athlete/ pretty boy of the school and you were just another student in the halls.  It was probably because of your extreme sarcasm and snark that you two got along.  You remember all the stupid stuff you did in high school; your senior prank was pretty awesome.  You played the Sesame Street theme song on repeat over the loud speakers and locked the door to where the PA system was operated. And, once they unlocked the door, the school staff would find that the floor was covered in cups of water so they couldn't get to the microphone without emptying out all the cups individually.

You also remembered putting hot sauce in each other's food at random times.  He once put hot sauce in your milk so you wouldn't have any way to cool your mouth off. For that, you put mayonnaise in his running shoes.

In your freshman year, you even made a pact that if you were both still single at the age of thirty-five, you’d marry each other. You were pretty sure he was joking, considering he had a line a mile long of girls, wanting to date him.  But, he was kind enough to take you to homecoming that year when you couldn’t get a date.

“Lance, you idiot, pick up!” you seethed as his phone rang.  Once again, it went to voice mail and you left an angry message, full of death threats and profanity.

After leaving your message, you decided that if he wasn’t going to pick up his cell, you were going to text him for the seven-billionth time.  You had been trying to contact him for an hour, so your text thread with him was pretty long.

1:01AM

“Lance, where are you?”

“Are you okay?  Do you need help?”

1:17AM

“Lance, this isn’t funny, pick up your damn phone!”

1:29AM

“Please answer, you’re scaring me…”

1:44AM

“Tucker! Pick up your fucking phone!”

“LANCE FUCKING TUCKER ANSWER ME”

And now…

2:06AM:

“LANCELOT FUCKING TUCKER, ANSWER YOUR

FUCKING PHONE OR I WILL SHOVE IT UP YOUR

ARSE WHEN YOU GET HOME!!!”

… He still didn’t answer…

“Ugh!  Lance!” you groaned, flopping down onto the couch.  You were so worried about him!  Was he hurt?  Did he get into an accident?  You hoped that he wasn't drunk driving...

“I'm back and better than evah!” a slurred voice called from the doorway.  Lance stood there, slumped against the doorframe, his hair a mess, tie undone, shirt buttons off by two, a half-empty champagne bottle in one hand, lipstick kiss marks all over his face, and… was that a hickey?!  You didn’t want to know.  “Lance!  You’re okay!” you gasped in relief, running over to him and crushing him in a big hug. “What the hell took you so long?! And why didn’t you answer any of my messages?!” you scolded, slapping him across the face, then hugging him again, “oh I’m so happy you’re safe,”.  Lance just giggled drunkenly, “hehehehehe… ma phone dead…” he gurgled, trying to stumble through the doorway, “and the Uber took forever to pick us up and dwop us all off!”.  You rolled your eyes and lead him over to the couch.

After bringing him some water and greasy food to clear his system out, you took the champagne bottle away and set it in the fridge for later.

It was quiet for a long while.  Lance ate at least half a pizza and two Big Macs by himself and drank six bottles of water in that time, while you just sat with him and made sure he didn’t throw up.  “Feel better buddy?” you asked, taking off his tie and setting it on the coffee table.  Lance nodded. He was still wasted as hell, but less so than before.    “Hey (Y/N)?” Lance asked through a mouthful of pizza, “remember that thing we made in high school?” “what thing?” you asked, combing down his unruly hair with your fingers.

“The thing,”

“what ‘thing’?”

“it’s like a contract, but you don’t sign anything, you just shake on it,”

“a promise?”

“no, the other thing, where we said we’d marry each other,”

“ooohh, you meant the pact,” you remembered, “we said we’d marry each other if we were both single at thirty-five,”.  Lance nodded, confirming your statement as he stuffed another large bite of pizza into his mouth.  “Why do you ask?” “because I don’t think I can wait that long,” Lance responded.  Your eyes went wide.  Did he just say that?  N-no… that had to be the alcohol talking.

“I wanna ma-*hiccup*-arry you, (Y/N),” he whined, tugging at your shirt, “you’re so nice and prettyyyy….”, “okay, time for bed mister, you are way too drunk,”.  Lance put up a bit of a fight as you tried to drag him off the couch towards his bedroom, but after giving him the mom stare, he went straight to bed with no fuss.  he could be so childish sometimes.

 The next morning you were making breakfast in the kitchen, waiting for Lance to wake up.  You figured he’d have a killer hangover after last night, so you left some orange slices, water, and aspirin by his bed.  A loud groan, seemingly of pain, probably from a headache, sounded behind you, alerting you to the presence of Lance.  “Well, good morning party anim-” you were interrupted by Lance turning you around and pressing his lips to yours in a feverish kiss.  You whimpered at the sudden action, but you quickly moaned and melted into the passionate kiss.

When Lance pulled away, you felt as if your breath had been ripped away from you.  “Whoa… whoa what was that?!” you gasped, slightly upset with Lance and his brash actions.  He just smirked at you, pecking your lips again.  You pushed him away, “that felt absolutely amazing and I’m restraining myself from kissing you, and man do I want to do it again!  But I would like to know why you did it, first,” you ranted, keeping Lance at a safe distance.  Lance huffed out a laugh through his nostrils as he looked at you, “I meant what I said last night,” he smiled, getting down on one knee, “I wanna marry you, (Y/N),”.

TAGLIST: