Tshuppy

His smile falters a bit, his heart beating faster now. “Really?” He speaks softer now and you’re barely able to hear him over the music. “Huh?” You shout before he just shakes his head and grabs you by the wrist. You smile like a lovesick goofball as he pulls you in and your chests meet, his arms quickly snaking around your waist. You stare up at him as you both laugh and sway to the music. Then you lean your head on his shoulder, wrap your arms around his torso tightly and close your eyes, your smile never fading.

Lance isn’t quite sure how to keep it together now. He can smell your shampoo and he can feel you breathing against him and oh my god was he in love with you. Suddenly, his hands begin to travel south, softly grazing over your butt and you pull back with wide eyes and an open mouth. “Excuse me! You better watch it, lover boy.” He quickly brings his hands back up to a more appropriate place on your back as a chuckle leaves his lips. “Sorry. Moment of weakness. You just have that effect on me, (Y/N).” You go back to leaning into his shoulder as you continue to sway with him.

KEITH ❤️

You turn off the shower and hear music coming from the room next to yours. As you wrap yourself in a towel, you listen and think the song sounds kind of familiar. The song comes to an end but then starts again. This makes you smile a bit as you dry off and quickly get dressed. You approach the door next to yours and knock. The song stops just before the door opens, Keith in the doorway.

“Hey.” “Hey yourself.” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you look at Keith then back into his room. He watches you and sighs softly. “I mean, if you wanna come in you can, but my room is a mess and-“ You don’t even let him finish and instead scurry in and plop down on his bed. He nods and turns to see you hogging up his entire bed. “Why’d you stop the song?” He shrugs, standing still. “Do you want me to play it? I thought you came in here to talk or something.” You nod, rolling over so that you were now on your stomach, your chin resting in your hands. “Yeah, I like that song and apparently you do too since you’ve had it on repeat for a while now.” This brings a small, shy smile to his lips before he forces it away. He goes to resume the music, leaning against his wall with crossed arms in typical Keith fashion.

You smile as you listen to the lyrics, wiggling your feet in the air to the beat. You look up and see Keith now mouthing the words and bobbing his head to the beat. Your smile was uncontrollable now, his cute gestures making you rise to your feet and close the distance between you. “You’re cute.” You blurt out before taking one of his gloved hands in yours. He tries to fight back a smile, his cheeks turning red. “No.” He responds bluntly as you gently pull him into a hug. He sighs, but it’s a comfortable, relaxed kind of sigh as he feels the warmth of your embrace.

His hands very slowly and carefully come up around your back, tightly squeezing you to his chest. You let out a soft “hmm” as he squeezes, making him think it was too hard. He goes to pull away but you keep him against you. Your arms quickly find their place around his neck and you hide your face there. As you breath nervously, it tickles his neck and causes him to gasp slightly. Now as you went to pull away to look up at him, he held you tightly in place, not wanting you to see his probably really dumb but also adorably shy and blushy face. He was so stiff, breathing shallow and quickly. He loved feeling you up against him like this but he didn’t know how to act.

Slowly, awkwardly you both begin swaying to the song. His hands stay glued to their spot on your upper back as yours gently begin to play with the hair covering his neck. He just can’t keep up the stubborn, quiet, bad boy act with you. At this point, he’s a smiling, blushing mess. He has always had a soft spot for you. You just make him feel safe and seen and validated. He continues to mouth the lyrics now that you are literally too close to even see his face…but you can feel his jaw moving ever so slightly. He’s too cute.

PIDGE 💚

You sat beside Pidge on the floor in their dumpster fire of a room. You didn’t mind though, they always made room for you to sit or lay comfortably with them. You had earbuds in that Pidge had actually made for you since you’d mentioned to them how much you like music. You were stoked when they gave them to you and now you always have music playing. Pidge was typing away on their laptop, the clicking noises and the music faintly coming from your ears were the only sounds in the room at the moment. Pidge smiled a bit as they realized you were listening to a playlist they had made for you.

They began softly humming along as they continued to code, fingers tapping quickly along the keyboard. You notice Pidge glance over at you so you pop an ear bud out to see if they were trying to talk to you. They weren’t talking but their humming made you gush with love for them. You’d never mentioned it but you thought their voice was so nice and soothing. You scoot yourself closer to the small paladin, gently pushing one of the ear buds in their ear before you lean your head on their shoulder. You’d think Pidge would be annoyed and shoo you away so they could focus, but instead they lean against you as their typing slows slightly.

You are humming together for a second before Pidge suddenly pushes their lap top away to turn and face you. They were kneeling on their knees now, admiring the way you watched them move towards you. You smile brightly at each other before they tackle you into a hug, making your laugh ring out. You put one hand back on the floor behind you to brace yourself and rest your other hand on their back, hugging them to your body tightly. Pidge continues to hum as they rub their hands up and down your back, their eyes closing. You take your hand from behind you and gently rub Pidge’s hair.

Suddenly, you’re up on your knees too, both of you holding onto the other as if this would be the last time you’d ever see or touch each other again. You began swaying back and forth to the song playing in your ears as Pidge continued to rub your back and you let your hands roam their short hair. “I’m surprised you pushed your work aside for me. That’s so unlike you.” You mumble into their shoulder. “You are just as important as everything else I have to do right now, (Y/N).” You feel your heart swell as you bite your lip at their sweet words. “Also, you’re sooooo freaking needy. I’m kinda used to it now.” You frown and lean back to look at them. “You’re a brat.” You pout and try to pull away, but they start laughing at your reaction and that makes you smile and melt back into their embrace once more.

SHIRO 🖤

You walk through the halls of the castle looking for your favorite person- Shiro. You checked the training deck only to find Keith and Lance training and totally not goofing off together. You checked the kitchen only to find Hunk and Pidge laughing and trying whatever new thing Hunk has cooked up. You pass Allura in the hall and ask her where Shiro may be. “Mmm did you check the observation deck? Every so often, he goes there to be alone and reflect.” Your face drops. “So…should I not go bug him then?” The princess smiles sweetly at you. “You should definitely go check on him.” You smile back at her and soon, you’re nearly running to where you knew he would be.

As you open the door, faint music hits your ears and you see Shiro sitting on the floor, in some sort of yoga position as he softly sings along to the song. “Hi.” You say just loud enough to be heard over the music, causing the man to turn and look at you. “(Y/N)! Hey. What’s up? Everything okay?” He starts to stand but you put your hands up. “Oh yeah! I’m fine…just…found myself missing you, I guess.” He gives you a lovely smile as he sits back on the ground, throwing his arms open for you. “Come here.” He begins to laugh softly as you full on sprint to him, throwing yourself into his arms and against his chiseled chest. A throaty “ugh” leaves his mouth as you hum with content at being wrapped up in his arms. “I’ll never get tired of you doing that.” He speaks clearly to you as you bury your face into his shirt and breath in his scent.

You’re straddling his lap now, your hands coming up under his arms and around his back. Often when you two hug, he lets his hands innocently roam your body. He’s not trying to cop a feel, he just likes to feel every curve of you. It lets him know you’re really real. So, he lets his hands wander down your back and onto your thighs and then up your arms. Soon, his hands rest on your face as he gently pulls you away from him, wanting to get a good look at you. His eyes look tired and he is barely smiling. “You okay?” You ask softly.

He doesn’t respond, instead he stands up, grabbing you by the waist as he lifts you up with him. He’s holding you like a parent holds their child who is too tired to walk on their own…but he was the tired one. “Shiro, put me down.” You order, but he ignores you, holds you tightly and begins to sway to the music. You can’t help but smile and hold onto him. As your legs wrap around his waist, your forehead soon meets his own. His eyes are closed, but yours stay open as you watch his lips move. He’s singing ever so softly, his voice smooth and deep as he rocks back and forth with you.

Soon enough, Shiro feels your legs start to slip off him and your hands loosen their grip on his shoulders. “(Y/N)?” He leans back to look at you and gasps as you nearly fall from his arms. You were dozing off to his sweet singing. He chuckles softly as you open your sleepy eyes. Finally, he begins walking to your room to lay you down for a nap. Maybe he’ll join you.

HUNK 💛

This was a very rare occasion where you found Hunk NOT in the kitchen and instead, he was helping Pidge clean up their room. He said it was good to clear the area in order to clear your head, as well. Pidge didn’t agree with that, but they appreciated the help anyway. Hunk put on some music as they got to work, sorting the trash from the old plates of food goo from the pieces of technology that Pidge needed still. You poke your head in, finding yourself bored and also intrigued by the music playing.

“Whoa, looks like the galra blew this room up.” You tease as Pidge lays on their bed, acting all exhausted and dramatic. “Right?! That’s what I said.” Hunk replies, making Pidge groan in protest. “It’s not that bad. I know where everything is and it’s MY room so why does it matter?” You saunter in slowly, watching as Hunk attempts to pry the younger paladin off their bed. “C’mon, Pidge. I swear you’ll feel so much better and clear headed once your room is clean.” “I’ll help, too.” You respond cheerily. “Good, you two deal with it then.” And now Pidge is checked out, their face deep in their computer screen.

Hunk sighs and looks to you, smiling a bit. You smile back and walk closer to him. “I like this song.” You speak before he nods in agreement and begins to do a silly little dance. Your smile only grows wider as you watch him, nodding along to the beat. “Okay, dancing Queen!” You joke as he holds his hand out to you. Your smile fades slowly and suddenly you can hear your heart beat over the music. Was he…trying to dance with you?

As you slowly rest your hand in his, he snaps his fingers to the beat and wiggles his hip. You nervously sway back and forth as he steps closer to you, holding both of your hands now. You weren’t great at dancing, but Hunk was such a good lead, you didn’t know he had such good rhythm. He pushes you away from him then pulls you back in then twirls you around, making you suddenly relax and start to smile again. Why were you so nervous? It’s not like he was necessarily a great dancer, but you didn’t want to look like a dork in front of him.

As you two laugh and sway together, Pidge just looks up at you and groans. “Ew. Can you guys not be all cute in front of me?” You throw your head back as you laugh at their comment and suddenly, you feel your feet slip out from under you. You accidentally stepped on an old plate covered in food goo and you went tumbling backwards. Almost like a cheesy romcom movie, Hunk lunges forward and saves you from the fall very gracefully, dipping you in his arms. You stare up at his shocked face, a blush growing on yours. His expression quickly softens as you reach up to rest a hand on his warm cheek. “My savior~”

ALLURA 💖

Occasionally, you liked to go to the training room late at night when everyone else was resting or doing other things. You like to be alone and focused, not worried about the others watching you or trying to give you advice. You also like to play your music and just vibe by yourself. Tonight was one of those occasions. You kept restarting level three of the training simulator, not wanting to push it too hard but wanting to keep your heart rate up. You hear the door behind you slide open with a whoosh and you are pleasantly surprised to see Princess Allura standing in the doorway, pink pajamas hanging off her tall body. Suddenly, you’re knocked on your butt by the training bot, causing you to groan in pain and Allura to giggle at you.

“Hey. Why are you up so late?” You stand and rub your butt as you walk towards her slowly. “I was just going to ask you the same question.” She replies with a forced smile. “I like training alone. I get nervous with everyone standing around watching me.” She nods and steps into the room. “But what will you do in the heat of battle when you’re surrounded by the enemy, (Y/N)?” You shrug and look away from her. “In the heat of the moment, I’m sure I’ll figure it out. Now, you answer my question.” You rest your hands on your hips as you raise a brow at her, watching her frown. “I’m just…worried. I can’t seem to fall asleep.” She reaches for your hand just as the song changes.

You give her hand a gently and reassuring squeeze before an “ooh!” leaves your mouth. “I love this song.” You tell her as you loosen your grip on her hand and rub your thumb over her knuckles. She couldn’t bring herself to look at you as tears formed in her eyes. She was so tough and strong and resilient, but she felt like she could really let her guard down around you. As you notice her lip quivering, you are quick to grab ahold of her other hand, pulling her closer to you. “Oh, Princess. Don’t cry.” Those words make her loose it, a soft yelp coming from her as she begins to full on cry in front of you.

You pause, unsure of what to do now. You’ve never seen her so distraught. “Come here.” You pull her up against you and hug her tight, rubbing soft circles on her back. Her arms hung at her sides, her wet face against your neck as her shoulders shook with each sob. You begin softly singing the words to her, meaning every word with all of your heart. Slowly, she seems to calm down with a sniffle and a sigh. “What can I do to make you happy again?” Your voice is at a whisper now, your hands reaching for her face. You want to pull her back and look at her.

“No. Just…hold me.” She keeps her face hidden in your neck as her arms come up around your waist. Her wish was your command. You hug her close again and continue to sing to her, gently swaying to the music. As you feel her relax and slump against you, her feet start moving along with yours. “Everything will be okay. I promise…I’ll always take care of you.” Sure, she was way stronger and smarter than you, but you’d do anything for her. Anything.

MATT 🧡

You and Matt were both scheduled to leave for an important mission tomorrow. Except…you weren’t going together. He was going one way, you were going another. You had been stressed and down about it all day, trying to bury yourself in your work and distract yourself with music as to not be consumed by sadness. Although you were gonna miss him endlessly, there were just more important things to focus on right now. But he could feel it, feel the worry and sorrow radiating off you.

“(Y/N).” He calls out, you don’t look at him. “Hey. Everything is gonna be fine. Before you know it, we’ll be together again.” Matt jumped slightly as you pushed yourself up from your chair fast and angry, making the chair fall back behind you. “I just don’t get why we can’t stick together! I just want to be with you always. I NEED to be with you or how will I know if you’re okay? H-how will I know what’s happened to you if you go missing?” After thinking about the words that just left your mouth, you turn away from him, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. It would be silent now had you not started playing music. As much as you hate to admit it, if something ever did happen to him, you’d rather be there to witness it than to be left worried and confused and wondering what went wrong.

“Whoa, hey. Come on, now. I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.” Before you know it, he’s turning you to face him with a sort of sad smile on his face. “And so can you. We’re gonna be fine, honey.” He quickly wiped your teary eyes before just holding and examining your face. He was literally scanning your face, you could see his eyes shifting, his smile slowly fading. He just wanted to keep that image of your slightly sad but beautiful face in his head. He wanted to be able to metaphorically look back at that image in his head because…he was scared, too.

As he felt his eyes begin to sting and his throat start to close up, he pulled you you into a hug hard and fast. His shaky hands were holding your head to his shoulder, your arms tightly wrapped around his waist. You both cried for a moment and you began taking mental notes of this moment with him. You noticed the way he smelled kinda woodsy and musky, the way his breath sounded in your ear right now, the way his hands were freezing cold even through your clothes, the way he is still trying to pulling you in closer. As you both inhale and exhale together, your embrace loosens. His hands slowly fall down your body, eventually stopping on your lower back.

You start to sway to the music, your eyes closing as you lean into him more. After a moment, Matt starts to follow your movements and now you can’t help but smile a bit. There’s literally not enough room between you for you guys to be dancing, you’re both totally stepping on each others feet. You don’t mind, you wish you could be even closer. You wanted to crawl into his clothes and sink into his skin. You start to hum softly into his neck, enjoying this soft, sweet moment.

“Matt…” He pulls back to get a good look at you. “Promise you’ll come back to me?” His heart aches at your words, but he forces a smile and hugs your waist tightly before lifting you off you feet and spinning you around. Little goof doesn’t even set you down right away, he just looks up at you with hopefully eyes, melting at the way the light is glowing behind you.

Your husband's leadership in the Firenation helped bring forth a new era of peace to the world. Through his and the Gaang's back-breaking work, they have made it possible for all of the elements to live together in the Republic City.

However, Zuko's responsibilities to his country alone was taking a toll on him, and you noticed very quickly that your husband needed some kind of reprieve.

While he sat through long council meetings and diplomatic negotiations, you handled the general public, making sure the needs of your people were met. However, the constant trips far from home meant he came back to you drained and exhausted. Sometimes even injured.

His latest excursion, a wild adventure somewhere far where he was at some point, brought back from the brink of death. He had written you a letter telling you all about it, sending your personal messenger bird days before his voyage back to you.

You barley waited for him to get off the airship before you leaped at him, bringing him close, kissing him before he could greet you.

Zuko’s tired body melted into yours, embracing you firmly against the hard planes of his body, he felt stiff— likely sore from the hard battles he fought. “Hey” he breathed, almost like a sigh of relief. You smiled, pecking him once again. “Hey, welcome home..”

Civilians whooped and cheered from a few feet away, and you waved them off with a smile, dragging your tired husband away to your quarters.

You waited while he bathed, pulling the thick canopy back and stripping the top layer of sheets from your bed, readying a warm pot of oil and steaming a few towels for a surprise massage you were sure Zuko would appreciate.

When he came back to your room, Zuko let you guide him to the bed with no complaints. His hair was pulled back and away from his face, but you couldn’t see the tender look is his eyes watching you as you scurried around, lighting candles and burning incense to set the mood.

“Okay. Scooch” You chirped, grabbing your husband’s shoulder and nudging him to roll onto his stomach. Zuko complied, lazily lying face down, and you bit back a comment about how nice his ass looked wrapped up in just a loose towel.

Years of combat training shaped your man up to be lean and muscular, his back told stories of hard work and unwavering discipline. But you could feel the knots under all that discipline, and so you quickly got to work.

You rubbed some of herbal oil onto your hands, sitting on your husband’s lower back as you worked at his shoulder blades and upper section first.

Zuko wheezed and groaned as you rubbed his muscles. The pain felt so good, and he felt like he could fall asleep right there. You moved down to his lower back and up again before you made him roll over, straddling his hips to rub him down.

Now, it was getting harder to concentrate on the relief. Zuko knew you meant well, but he was just a man. A man who just came back from weeks of being several miles away from his beloved wife.

It was so sweet, you were so focused on making him feel relaxed, kissing his face and rubbing his chest. Zuko basked in the affection, failing to stop his body from reacting.

You shifted backwards and finally felt him, hard and peeking out from under the towel. "Zuko?" you turned to your husband, shocked. His cheeks were flushed red, but he didn't look the slightest bit ashamed. He met your gaze steadily, big hands coming up to squeeze your thighs.

"Sorry," you could tell he didn't mean it, his wandering hands came back down to palm your ass, unapologetically feeling you up while you were still sitting over his hard dick. He sat up, kissing you sweetly. " I feel so much better already, honey."

Oh, so he thought he was funny.

You let him cop another feel before he was on his back again, you stripped the towel he had completely off, settling yourself right next to him. your hands caressed his stomach, feeling his hard abs and creeping lower, ghosting over his pelvis.

Zuko’s body followed your touch, raising his hips to meet your hands as they slid down the length of his dick. In a display so needy, he thrusted into your fist, breathing out curses while you just held him, your other hand caressed his chest and collarbones, your touch so teasing and nurturing it melted him.

You rubbed your thumb over his nipple, enjoying how the candle light defined every ridge and plane of your husband’s body. The oil from earlier added an erotic sheen to his skin that made your mouth water, providing the perfect lubricant for one last massage.

Zuko’s body jolted as you began to stroke him, the slick sounds of your hand jerking his cock made him dizzy. He laid back, relaxing into the pile of extravagant pillows behind him, surrendering to your touch.

“you’re so good to me, honey.” He groaned, his arm came up to rest over his eyes “fuuck, you’re so so good.”

You giggled, bringing your other hand down, cupping his balls while your other hand kept its pace. “Isn’t it my duty as your wife to make sure you’re always healthy?”

Zuko’s arm came down quick, grabbing the sheets, hips jerking. You kept twisting your wrist up and down in a steady rhythm, occasionally pausing to give the tip of his cock the attention it deserved, rubbing his sensitive glans with your palm, relishing as your husband became defenseless. His chest rose and fell in rough inhales. He was close, but you weren’t ready to be done yet.

Right on the brink of his orgasm, you pulled away. Zuko sat up on his elbows, panting and staring at you like you had just slapped him across the face. You looked away from his eyes and stood, grabbing one of the extra towels to clean your hands off. “Baby..w-what are you doing?” he sounded like he was begging, his voice broken and pleading. His dick felt so heavy and swollen, pulsing with the phantoms of his ruined orgasm.

“Shhh.” You were back to his side, wiping the oil off of his pelvis and cock. Zuko hissed, almost trembling. He was still sensitive but miles away from where he was just a few seconds ago. “Just let me help, sit back.”

Stars blurred in his vision as your mouth descended downwards, swallowing him little by little, dragging it out to make it sweet and painful. He could only tense, all his muscles freezing in place as you began to suck him properly. Closing his eyes and gripping the sheets was Zuko’s only defense, sweet whines and whimpers escaping him that he didn’t even recognize.

Quickly, his orgasm built back up again, he jerked his hips up, moaning and chasing the tight suction your lips had around his tip “augh, fuckfuckfuck.” Zuko made the mistake of looking down at you, meeting your scalding gaze as you took him all the way down, gagging around him as your throat swallowed around his cock. Tears welled up in your eyes as you still bobbed your head, nose coming up flush against his pelvic bone.

Zuko just couldnt hold it anymore. He came so hard it felt like he buffered, choking out your name while his hips stuttered, out of his control. The sheets twisted and wrinkled under his grip, and he barely had the self control to not burn holes through the mattress.

But you just kept going. he could only feel you there, between his legs. Sucking every ounce of cum you could. The rest of his body felt hot and numb, as if all his nerves had traveled to his dick and nowhere else.

He sat up, fingers threading through your hair, desperate to be grounded as you overstimulated him.

Your husband whined and gasped for mercy. You swallowed him again and again, making a sloppy mess of spit and cum smear on your chin and on his pelvis.

Zuko looked a mess, his long hair had come down from the loose tie he had it in, disheveled and messy. His body resisted against the searing pleasure from your mouth, but he planted himself in place, jerking around as you had your fill.

The second time he came, though, his body had simply become gelatinous. It was too much, his cum coming out in hot spurts that you swallowed with pleasure, enjoying the tremors of your husband’s body while you kitten licked his tip, cleaning him off. It almost felt like you were trying to kill him.

When you finally decided he’d had enough, Zuko might as well have ascended to the spirit world already. He laid there, limp and breathless. Just watching you with wet golden eyes, half lidded and shadowed by his bangs.

“You okay?” You laid next to him again, bringing up the sheets to cover his bottom half. He let you brush the hair out of his face, staring up at you like you were some kind of deity.

“Thank you…for all of this.” You smiled and his hand came up to cup your cheek, bringing your face down for a sweet kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, and you took your place, laying your head right under his chin. A few minutes later, you gave him a repeat while in the bath, the two of you going on and on until you were sure your husband was completely stress free.

shiro

rough and calloused hands, and quite big, even his robot arm.

holding you with his human hand is what he likes the best, he can feel your warm skin on his instead of on that cold steel.

really needs you to be there to squeeze his hand in to remind him that you're there, safe and okay

those nights where he can't seems to close his eyes and let himself escape to sleep, he needs you to at least hold his hand while he lays there

hunk

his hands always have something on them, from cooking, or engineering, maybe some oil

though, he takes very good care of his hands, so they're pretty soft!

lance taught him the importance of taking care of your skin, including your hands

pretty big hands, and always pretty warm other than that

he likes hand holding but can get a bit flustered while doing it lol

pidge

small hands!!!

her hands are always busy, so good luck holding them, plus she'll overload and blush so hard if you make like any physical contact with her

taking care of her hands is not really something she thinks about?? not her top priority lol

her nails are probably short and stubby from biting them, though

lance

not big hands, but long and nice fingernails that won't scratch you accidentally

probably paints his nails a light baby blue, or maybe a tan

likes hand holding!! hands sweatin like a teenager when you smile at him though,,,,

pda lover like crazy, maybe when hes older he'll maybe be into giving kisses on the hand

at a formal event, just imagine lance taking your hand, being all like "mlady/my gentlemen/my leige," and giving you a kiss on your hand and bowing

blsyehess

keith

long and slender like lances, but a lot stronger, and has an amazing grip

type of person to hold your hands in crowded public places, to make sure you don't get lost.

even before he was a pilot he had an amazing grip

but hes probably the worst at taking care of his hands

always has dirt under them, even though he always washes his hands regularly

maybe you could convice him to let you paint his nails when he's really sleepy

just like be like keiithhh i wanna give you a mancure and hes so tired just laying against your tummy like "huh.... yeah sure...."

hand holding, is something hes really only done to pull you along in public places- he never really thought of it romactically, and if you mention it, he'll go red as HELL

Prologue:

2 years post war was really a whirlwind for the both you and Keith.

Being in space for so long had definitely matured you in a way most people won't ever experience. It revealed things about you and helped grow you as a person.

It also revealed that your long time boyfriend was half alien, and with that came inherent behaviors that you've had to become accustomed to over the years.

Some unexpected, like Keith developing a serious breeding kink.

Headcanons:

The both of you knew you didn't want kids at the moment, there was way too much to do with aiding and repairing planets victimized during the war against the Galra.

Yet I feel like something in Keith just itches to feel the satisfaction of giving you his load, over and over again like it was nothing.

it also manifests as as him sometimes watching it leak out of you while he catches his breath after a round of sex.

unintentionally overstimulates you when he spreads you open, rubbing his tip up and down your pussy, coating himself and making you shake when he thrusts back inside.

He loves when you tell him you want it. Keith is definitely the kind of man that likes a lot of reassurance and praise during sex. He loves your reactions and its amplified ten fold when you beg him to fill you up. Being together for so long has made you both so shameless, and your filthy mouth keeps him going.

Keith normally loves when you get on top but not when he's like this.

His dick is telling him he needs to fold you in half, and he gets all in your face; his hair disheveled, sticking to his forehead and falling out of his pony. He looked like was was rolling, not even capable of looking at you straight, too occupied sucking bites and marks over your breasts and nipples.

“Keith, oh my god." you gasped when he sucked your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. Keith closed his eyes, his thrusts growing swifter, harder like he already knew that you were gonna cum, fucking you rough to push you to your limits. “Fuck. Let me come inside,” his voice pitched into a whine and His fingers crept between your spread legs, Keith’s arm squeezed tight between your bodies, barley giving your body room to jerk away as he pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit, “baby, please. I need to” his whimpers implore you to give in, kissing him hard as his hips stuttered. His fingers worked at you still, rubbing wet circles over your clit while you convulsed, your hips rolling and jerking into his hand. Your thighs shook while he dragged his own orgasm out right after, spilling into you while you caught your breath, spent from the overstimulation.

He pulled out of you with a wet squelch, watching the mess of cum and fluid spill out of you. it fueled something in him that felt so other. He wanted to fill you like this, over and over again- he had to, his core was begging him to.

I just feel like hes so sick with it like he takes zinc and everything

When you entered the meeting room, everyone was already there. Of course they were, you had to stay back for a moment, regain your strength for what was coming.

The room was cold. Not physically — the Castle’s systems regulated temperature perfectly — but emotionally. Sterile. Bright. Clinical.

Shiro stood tall, poised and commanding as always. Lance tried to make a joke the moment you entered, something about how you were going without dinner tonight due to losing your race. You didn’t laugh.

Your report had been sent in through the team channel, dry and factual. You’d completed the mission. Escaped. Neutralized the threat. But even as Allura outlined the results, there was a tension in the air. A current. Something everyone felt but didn’t understand

After a moment, she congratulated you on a successful mission. That was brief, however, for not a moment later she was already projecting a map of the next galaxy. You weren’t sure exactly what for, everything was muffled and distant.

“You alright?” Keith whispered next to you. You felt his hand secretly reaching out for yours, but as if it carried electricity, yours flinched away immediately.

He was hurt by this, you could tell by how his head sharply turned to look at you, his brow furrowed in concern. He was trying to make out your expression, but he couldn’t not with your helmet still on.

Allura turned to you, you could tell she knew something was wrong. “Paladin. Is there anything you’d like to report?”

You didn’t answer.

Your breath echoed faintly inside your helmet, each inhale shallow and too loud in your ears. Everyone was waiting, eyes on you now. You could feel it. The room felt too small.

“Paladin?” Allura prompted again, her voice gentler this time. Not as a commander, but as someone who knew now something was incredibly wrong.

Still, you said nothing.

Instead, with slow, deliberate hands, you reached up for your helmet, which came off with a sharp hiss.

You lifted it off, carefully, like if you made the wrong motion, you might shatter.

The air hit your skin.

And then they saw.

The sharp inhale was audible.

Your hair—your long, memory-woven hair—was gone. Cropped close in uneven layers. Frayed, burned at the ends. A choppy, desperate cut.

The beads were gone too. Dozens of them—each one added in remembrance. Each one a story. A piece of your soul.

You’d worn your hair like a tapestry of your people. You were known for it—thick, lustrous, flowing past your waist, decorated with vibrant beads to honor the fallen, to carry their memory forward. In your culture, hair was sacred. It was said to hold memories. Spirit. When someone passed, you wove their bead into your strands so they could journey with you.

Now… now you were empty.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, trailing silently over the grime and ash that clung to your skin.

That was the only crack in your armor. The only sign that inside, you were screaming.

No one spoke.

Pidge’s eyes widened, mouth slightly parted in shock.

Hunk’s expression crumbled instantly.

Lance’s joke died completely on his lips. He looked stricken. Like the ground had shifted beneath him.

Shiro stepped forward—but only a fraction. His brows knit in quiet sorrow, like he was watching a soldier relive a battlefield.

And Allura—

Allura understood first.

You saw it in the soft parting of her lips, the subtle tremble in her voice when she whispered, “Your hair…”

It wasn’t vanity. It was history. It was grief and blood and names woven into each strand.

“I had to,” you said, finally. Voice hollow.

You faintly heard Allura whisper your name as she stepped down and went to comfort you. 

“He grabbed me,” you said next, your voice now coming back to you. As if up until this moment you had been on autopilot, and now, with Allura’s hands softly holding on to your elbow, you had been brought back to reality. “He wouldn’t let go, and he was pulling me toward—” your voice broke. 

You remembered the fire, how the flames had drawn closer and closer as you thrashed against the Galran soldier’s hold. The smoke clawing into your lungs. The burn of the heat licking at your boots.

“I could feel it,” you whispered, shaking your head slowly. “The heat. It was right there. I saw it—my hair—starting to catch. Just the ends, but—”

Your voice cracked, and suddenly it was like it wasn’t just memory anymore. It was happening again.

“I—I didn’t even cut it clean. It just ripped.” You looked up, finally meeting their eyes. “Some of it fell in. Into the fire.”

That’s when it hit.

Not just the grief. Not just the shock.

The loss.

The kind that hollowed you out from the inside.

Your knees buckled. You dropped your helmet to the floor with a dull clang, and Keith caught you before you hit your knees.

You didn’t mean to cry.

But the sob that tore from your throat was raw and unfiltered, full of every unspoken goodbye that had burned in that fire.

“My family was in there,” you gasped, barely audible.

You couldn’t stop the way your body shook—grief like a tide pulling you under, dragging you deeper with every crashing wave.

Keith held you like he could keep you tethered to the surface.

He didn’t flinch at your weight. Didn’t hesitate for a second when you broke apart in his arms. His voice was in your ear—quiet, grounding murmurs, like he was trying to stitch you back together one word at a time. But it sounded far away, drowned out by the millions of voices you had lost. 

You barely registered Shiro’s hand on your shoulder, steady and warm. Or the way Allura knelt beside you, gently brushing some of the ash-matted strands from your forehead.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Shiro said softly. “Come on. You don’t have to be strong right now.”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure you could walk.

Keith helped you to your feet, never letting go. Your legs were trembling—rubbery and weak, like they no longer belonged to you—but between the three of them, you didn’t fall again. Shiro braced one side. Allura the other. And Keith stayed pressed to your back, arms never straying far in case you slipped again.

The rest of the team made space without a word.

The walk to your room felt longer than it was. A walk of shame.

When the door slid open, you hesitated on the threshold.

This was your room.

But you didn’t feel the same.

Like the part of you who used to live here, was still out there, stuck in the fire.

Keith noticed your hesitation. “I’ll stay with you.”

You didn’t even nod. Just stepped in, and he followed behind you without asking.

Allura touched your arm. “We’ll give you space. But we’re right here if you need anything.”

You didn’t have the strength to say thank you. But the way your eyes flicked to her said enough.

Then the door hissed shut behind them.

You didn’t know what to do. You stood there for a long moment, afraid that attempting to take a step in any direction would make you crumble again. 

Your head raced with thoughts. What were you supposed to do now? Everything seemed pointless and futile. Everything but, just standing there. Maybe if you didn’t move ever again, you wouldn’t feel the weightlessness that now clung to you like a ghost.

Wash your face?

You imagined the water running through your hands—cold, clean, normal—and recoiled at the thought. You didn’t want to see your face in the mirror. Not with your hair like this. Not when you looked like someone else. Not when your reflection would only ask the same questions you didn’t have answers to.

Change out of your armor?

But your armor was the only thing still on you that hadn’t burned. The only thing still whole. Without it, you'd just be a silhouette. Empty fabric. No weight.

Lie down?

Your bed looked too soft. Like it would swallow you if you touched it. And what would you even do there—close your eyes and pretend this hadn’t happened? The second you tried to rest, you knew your mind would replay it all. The fire. The tearing. The smoke.

You shifted on your feet, arms stiff at your sides.

None of it made sense anymore. Not your routine. Not the comfort objects in your room. Not the beads that used to hang above your headboard—they weren’t there. You’d taken them down days ago to add more, and never had the chance. Now there was nothing. Just bare string. Mocking you.

Keith hadn’t said anything. He stood a few steps behind you, unmoving, like he knew you needed space to let the panic settle. But he was watching—carefully. Quietly.

You didn’t cry again. You couldn’t. You were past that now. Wrung dry.

But your breath kept catching in your chest in that uneven way. Like your body was trying to remember how to exist with the hole that had been carved out of you.

Keith stepped forward once.

You didn’t react.

Then again, slowly. He didn’t reach for you this time. Didn’t try to hold you or say something that would only echo off the walls of your detachment. Instead, his hand gently ghosted past yours and landed lightly at the small of your back.

Not pressure.

Just presence.

And that, somehow, was worse. It made the ache deeper. Realer.

Your shoulders sank. You didn’t want to move—but you also couldn’t stay standing. Your body was catching up to the exhaustion your mind had been trying to outrun.

He felt it. The way you started to sway. The way your weight shifted, not with intention, but surrender.

Keith didn’t speak. He just guided.

Slowly, he led you to the bed. One step at a time. Not rushed, not forceful. When your knees touched the edge of the mattress, you stopped again.

He gave you time.

And when you sat—mechanically, like it wasn’t even a decision you made—he knelt in front of you, hands still careful and light as if you might shatter on contact.

You stared past him, eyes glassy and unfocused. Then, finally, you sank down sideways, lying on your side atop the blankets, still in armor, still dusty and singed and stiff. You didn’t care.

You didn’t say a word.

Keith didn’t either.

He sat at the edge of the bed beside you, one hand resting lightly near yours, not quite touching.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours.

Your eyes stayed open. Blinking slowly. Chest rising and falling with a shallow rhythm.

And Keith stayed there, quiet and grounded, like he knew this wasn’t something he could fix. He wasn’t trying to. He was just… here.

He looked at you only when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

You did. And you stared back. 

The castle felt quieter lately.

Not in the way it powered down during travel, or in the way voices hushed before missions. This was a different quiet. One that settled between the walls like dust—unnoticed by most, but heavy all the same.

You hadn’t said much since that night. You answered when spoken to. Ate enough not to raise concern. Trained, but not like before. You moved like your body had weight, but no momentum.

And always, after lights-out, you disappeared to the observatory deck.

Alone.

Tonight was no different.

You sat by the curved window in a tucked-away alcove, knees pulled loosely to your chest, armor swapped out for a simple pajama. The stars shimmered outside, scattered like the beads that used to line your hair.

You traced your fingers over the cropped ends again. They still felt foreign. The edges rough, not yet healed. It had grown a fraction already, but it made you feel worse. Like every inch of regrowth only reminded you how much was gone.

You had stopped crying. But that didn’t mean the ache was gone. It had just gone deeper. Quieter.

You told yourself you were being ridiculous.

Because it was just hair.

Just hair.

Not an arm like Shiro.

Not a family like Pidge.

Not a voice that once belonged to a home.

But every time your mind circled back to the loss, to the weight in your chest, a fresh wave of guilt followed.

You were mourning hair.

You were the last of your people.

The last to carry the sacred tradition of beads woven into memory.

The last to bear witness.

And yet… here you were. Grieving strands of keratin. Beads. Memory tokens.

You tried to push the grief down.

Everyone here had scars heavier than yours, traumas stitched into their bones.

You felt guilty for mourning. Like you were taking up space in the pain room that someone else needed more.

A whisper of movement behind you made you stiffen.

You didn’t look up.

Allura’s voice followed, soft and deliberate. “You shouldn’t be alone every night.”

You didn’t answer.

She didn’t ask to sit—just joined you, her legs folding gracefully beneath her, gaze out toward the stars.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

Eventually, she asked, “Do you know what we did with hair on Altea?”

You blinked, surprised.

“I—I assume it was similar to my home. Symbolic.”

She smiled faintly. “It was more than that. Like your people, we believed hair was sacred. A physical connection to memory. When someone passed, their hair was kept by their closest kin. Not hidden away—but braided into ceremonial ribbons. Worn when the time came to remember them.”

Your throat tightened.

“I keep thinking,” you said hoarsely, “that I should be over it.”

Allura turned, eyebrows gently lifting.

“It was just hair.”

Her gaze didn’t soften.

“No,” she said. “It wasn’t. And you know that.”

You looked away again. “But it wasn’t an arm. Or a home planet. Or a family.”

“It was your family,” Allura said firmly. “The way you carried them. The way you honored them. Those beads… they were your history. You didn’t just lose strands. You lost a tether.”

You bit your lip, eyes stinging. She wasn’t coddling you. She was telling the truth. And somehow, that hurt more than anything else had these past few days.

“I feel so empty,” you admitted, voice barely there.

“You are mourning,” Allura replied. “Not the way others have. Not for the same things. But what you lost mattered.”

You stayed quiet, but the shaking of your shoulders betrayed you.

Allura reached out slowly, brushing a piece of your short hair behind your ear. Her touch lingered, not to fix you, but to ground you.

“When your heart breaks,” she said softly, “the pieces don’t care how big the reason was. They fall just the same.”

You leaned your forehead to the glass, breathing in shaky gulps.

“I don’t know how to carry them anymore,” you whispered. “The ones I lost.”

Allura’s voice was calm. “You already are.”

Days started blurring into each other as you tried to get back to your normal routine. 

Everything felt like a drag. The most miniscule of tasks often taking the longest. 

However, there was a constant in your life. A steady unwavering presence, keeping you anchored — Keith.

He never asked. He never forced conversation. Sometimes he simply sat across the room, tracing constellations on the wall with a finger or sharpening his knives, letting silence fill the space between you

He didn’t crowd you with words or demands. Instead, he stayed quiet, steady—like the ground beneath your feet when the world threatened to spin out of control.

He was there when you woke, when you stared blankly at your reflection, when your fingers absentmindedly traced the ragged edges of your hair.

He was there when you sat on the balcony, shoulders tight, eyes hollow..

You knew he meant well.

Keith always did.

But the way he lingered in doorways, the way he subtly followed you when you wandered too far from the main halls, the way he kept glancing at you when you took too long to answer a question—it all built up like pressure behind your ribs.

Like everyone was walking on glass around you.

Like you were glass.

And for what? For hair? For something so stupid?

You couldn’t even get through a workout without someone checking if you were overdoing it. Or see a hallway conversation quiet down when you walked past. Everyone tiptoeing around your grief like it was something delicate, when all it felt like was rage.

It happened in the training deck.

You missed a shot, something you normally would’ve brushed off with a grunt and a quip.

But Keith stepped closer instead. Not saying anything—just hovering, brows drawn in concern.

And you snapped.

“What?” you barked.

He froze.

“I didn’t—”

You turned around sharply, your blade retracting as you did. “You didn’t have to, I can feel it. You hover over me, like I’m a porcelain doll. Like I’ll break at any moment.”

Keith’s mouth opened slightly. He didn't speak. You didn’t let him.

“But I won’t, okay? Not over this ridiculous, pointless thing that doesn’t even matter.”

Your eyes were burning.

He took a step forward. You took a step back.

You felt like a bomb, something that would explode at any moment. And your better judgement told you that Keith should not be collateral damage. So you pushed him away.

“Just stop looking at me like that,” you hissed, voice trembling. 

“Like what?” His voice was low and steady. 

“Like I’m fragile. Like you’re waiting for me to crack open.”

Keith didn’t move. His eyes searched yours, but you couldn’t tell what for. Answers? Patience? Understanding?

You hated it.

You hated how still he was. How gentle he was.

Because it made you feel like you weren’t allowed to be angry.

And you were. God, you were so angry.

“At least yell back,” you snapped. “Say something. Tell me I’m being stupid. Because I am. This was just hair. Just—” Your voice broke, and your hands clenched at your sides. “Just hair. You’re thinking it. Everyone in this stupid place is.”

You couldn’t stop the tears now. They came fast, stinging hot trails down your cheeks.

You turned away, scrubbing angrily at your face, but the tears kept coming—faster now, messier. The kind that made your chest hitch in a way you couldn’t control.

You hated that most of all.

Your grief had been so quiet for days. It sat inside you like a stone. Heavy. Still.

But now it had cracked open, and everything ugly and loud and furious was spilling out.

“I can’t even be upset without it feeling like a performance,” you gasped, voice raw. “Everyone keeps acting like I lost a limb or a loved one and I—I cut my hair, Keith.”

The silence that followed made you want to scream. You spun on him, wild-eyed. “Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

“Because you’re hurting,” he said simply. “And I don’t want to take that from you.”

That stopped you in your tracks. Like cold water.

You tried to claw back at the anger in you. You could feel it receding, fading into your chest, and you desperately wanted it back. Because at least that way you wouldn't feel so numb all the time.

Your face scrunched, as if you were about to snarl at him. Instead you let out a loud groan and threw your weapon across the room, as you threw yourself against the nearest wall. You slid down, palms pressing against your eyes.

Your knees didn’t buckle this time, but you wished they had. At least then it would’ve felt like someone else was forcing you to fall.

But it was just you. You, finally crumbling under everything you'd buried.

Keith didn’t speak. He just stepped forward and sat next to you. 

You allowed silence to settle between you two. Only being filled by the sound of your sobs and shakes. You felt so extremely pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered eventually, voice paper-thin. “I didn’t mean to snap. I just…”

Keith didn’t move, didn’t interrupt. He sat cross-legged beside you, shoulder barely brushing yours, like any more pressure might break the air between you.

“I don’t know who I am without it,” you said. “It wasn’t just hair. I know it sounds dumb, but it wasn’t. I grew up with it, Keith. My mom braided it. My brother braided it. My birthdays, every solstice, every loss…it was all there.”

Your throat closed on you. You let out a shaky breath. 

You looked down at your hands. At the calluses, the small tremors, the smudge of sweat and training deck dust across your palms. You clenched them hard.

“It was the one part of me that still felt like home.”

Keith was quiet for a while. Then, softly: “I don’t think it’s dumb.”

You hummed, not daring to look at him yet. You pressed your knees against your chest. Maybe if you made yourself small enough, the pain wouldn’t have enough space to thrive.

“I think it’s brave,” he said. “The way you carry people with you.”

You turned your head to find his eyes were already fixed on you. 

“I didn’t know how to help,” he went on, slower now. “But I didn’t want to leave you alone either. So I stayed. I guess… I just hoped it was enough.”

Your lip trembled again. You wanted to say something. Thank him perhaps. But every time you tried to open your mouth, more tears spilled.

Before you could say anything, Keith reached into his pocket.

“I didn’t know when to give these to you.”

Carefully, like he was handing over something fragile, he unwrapped a piece of cloth.

Three beads lay in the center.

Charred. Smoke-stained. But still whole.

“I found them in the wreckage,” he said. “Recognized them. I didn’t know what to do with them. I didn’t even know if I should say anything. But I kept them.”

You stared at them. Your breath caught in your throat.

You reached out slowly, brushing your fingers over the beads. They were warm from his pocket. Worn smooth by memory.

You took them in your palm like they were sacred.

Another cry escaped your throat. You pressed them against your lips. “These were my brothers’.”

Keith’s gaze lowered to analyze the two beads you were pointing at. Your finger moved to pick up the third bead and you lifted it up to eye-level. You laughed a teary-laugh.

“This was for when we got our pet. I was seven.”

You allowed yourself to cry for them for a moment longer. Covering them with the cloth, you didn’t want them to be stained by your grief. 

“Thank you,” you said after a while, and it sounded broken.

Keith didn’t reply. He just gently reached out, pinkie extended.

You didn’t hesitate this time as you intertwined your fingers together.

You leaned your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t leave.

Something was different the next morning.

You couldn’t quite name it. It wasn’t that the weight was gone—grief didn’t vanish overnight—but the pressure that had been sitting on your chest for days… had shifted.

For the longest time, you felt as if it had been looming over you— a suffocating cloud of darkness that would not let you breathe properly.

But on this particular morning, you found grief sitting next to you. As if it was an old friend.

Keith had stayed with you again. Fell asleep in the chair beside your bed, head tipped slightly forward, arms crossed in that way he always sat—like he was half-ready to jump into battle if needed. The dim blue glow of the castle lights painted his face soft and muted.

He hadn’t spoken much last night after giving you the beads.

He hadn’t needed to.

He stayed. That was enough.

You slipped quietly out of bed, padded into the bathroom, and stood in front of the mirror.

Your reflection didn’t surprise you anymore. The rough, jagged edges of your hair had become familiar. You’d stopped flinching. Stopped looking away.

But this morning… for the first time, you reached for the brush.

The bristles caught in places. Snagged on the uneven strands. You worked carefully, untangling them one by one. You didn't rush. There was no one watching, no one expecting. Just you, in your own time.

When the tangles were gone, you stared for a while. Just breathed.

Then, slowly, you parted a section of hair behind your right ear.

Fingers steady.

You began to braid.

The motion was instinct. Muscle memory.

Over. Under. Over again.

And when you reached halfway down, you paused.

You walked back into the room and opened the drawer where you'd carefully placed them the night before.

The beads Keith had saved.

You threaded them onto the end of the braid, fingers slow but sure.

They clicked gently together. Familiar.

You tied it off with a scrap of twine.

Then you turned to the other side and braided again—smaller this time, nothing fancy. You weren’t trying to recreate what you’d lost. Just… carry it forward.

Two braids. Simple. Steady.

You didn’t cry.

But you smiled.

Just barely.

For a moment, you felt anger resurface in your chest again at the reflection. The smile felt fake and forced. 

You closed your eyes, breathed deeply and tried again.

You didn’t force it to reach your eyes, you didn’t even show your teeth. But it felt like a step in the right direction.

You heard Keith stir behind you. After a brief moment he joined you in the bathroom, standing behind you, assessing your reflection. He blinked sleepily, eyes still heavy with rest.

He smiled before leaning over you. Resting his head on your shoulder and pressing a small kiss on your cheek.

It didn’t happen all at once.

You didn’t wake up suddenly fine. No one expected you to.

But day by day, moment by moment, things began to shift.

It started the day you braided your hair again.

You walked into the dining hall for breakfast—not late, not hiding—and the room went quiet. Not like before, when everyone froze in shock or uncertainty. This time, it was reverent.

Because they saw the beads.

You sat beside Pidge without saying anything.

She just offered you a slice of toast with a nod, and you took it.

That was enough.

Later that evening, you joined them again. This time, for game night.

It was Lance who noticed first. His head snapped up when you entered, already in the middle of dramatically losing to Hunk in a trivia round.

He opened his mouth, probably to say something extremely Lance, but for once—he didn’t.

Instead, he offered you a seat beside him.

“You’re just in time to lose horribly,” he said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes. “You say that like it’s new.”

Laughter bubbled around the table. It wasn’t the loudest or brightest night—but it was the first one that felt normal again.

You didn’t hide after that.

You showed up for training. You helped Pidge fix a communication relay. You teased Keith under your breath during sparring, and he smirked that tiny smirk of his in return.

You still had hard days. Quiet mornings. Moments where the grief crawled up your throat unexpectedly. But you let yourself feel them now. You didn’t bottle them up.

You welcomed it in. Like an old friend who had been hurting just like you. You tried to sit with it as long as possible.

Slowly, it got easier. 

You found that keeping a routine helped you. Small moments during the day you could rely on. At night, when the castle had gone mostly quiet, you stepped out onto the observatory deck.

The stars stretched overhead in waves—endless, cold, beautiful. Your eyes flicked up to them instinctively, mapping constellations you’d memorized as a child. Looking for home, even if it wasn’t there anymore.

You heard footsteps behind you but didn’t turn.

“I figured you’d be here,” Keith said softly, joining you at the railing. “You always are, after game night.”

You shrugged. “Old habits.”

He leaned beside you, his presence steady and unintrusive.

You were quiet together for a while, just watching.

You glanced at him, eyes soft. “Thanks for not disappearing.”

He looked at you like that was the strangest thing you could’ve said. “I never planned to.”

You both went quiet again, the silence this time not heavy, but peaceful.

Eventually, you took a deep breath, and reached up to touch the braid just behind your ear. The beads clicked softly against your fingers.

“I think I’ll add another braid tomorrow,” you said.

Keith glanced over, his mouth quirking slightly. “Yeah?”

“Something to look forward to. I’ll make it a wish, and I’ll keep it with me.”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, then drifted back to the stars.

“Good,” he said. “You deserve those too.”

It became a quiet tradition after that.

For every mission completed, for every planet visited, for every birthday, for every night you let yourself laugh again—another bead was added.

Some were simple. Others glittered with strange materials from alien markets. A few you carved yourself, late at night with a scalpel and a steady hand, shaping memory into something tangible.

Your hair grew longer by the week—awkward at first, the regrowth uneven and unruly—but you didn’t hide it. You wore it loose more often now, sometimes in partial braids, other times pulled back with old cords or woven bands.

Each bead had meaning.

For your brothers.

For the night you started to feel like yourself again.

For the planet with twin moons and singing trees.

For the day Pidge built you a scanner that could record constellations and name them after anything you wanted.

They were yours.

And you carried them with quiet pride.

That night, you were late to dinner. You’d been helping Coran fix a glitch in the water filtration system (which was mostly him gesturing wildly and you pretending to understand the nonsense he was spewing).

As you made your way toward the dining hall, you heard it—hushed voices, hurried shuffling, then an unnatural stillness.

You paused just outside the door, frowning.

Then stepped in.

The silence was immediate.

Allura froze mid-step. Hunk nearly dropped a spoon. Lance blinked like you’d caught him sneaking something. Pidge’s face was unreadable. Keith was at the edge of the room, arms crossed but his eyes very, very focused on you.

You blinked.

“What?” you asked, glancing around. “Do I have something on my face?”

No one said anything. 

You rolled your eyes, moving casually toward the fridge. “Seriously, you guys are acting like I just walked in with a Galran warlord or something.”

Behind you, Keith cleared his throat.

You paused, slowly turning.

Shiro stepped forward, hands folded behind his back, voice a little more formal than usual. “We, uh… we’ve been meaning to give you something.”

You blinked. “…Okay.”

Everyone exchanged glances. Then Hunk stepped forward, holding something in his hands.

A small, shallow bowl.

He offered it to you with both palms, almost reverently.

Your brow furrowed. You glanced at him, then down.

Inside were seven beads.

Each unique. Each clearly chosen with care.

You were speechless.

Your fingers hovered over the bowl, and you couldn’t look up. Your throat was suddenly too tight.

“Mine’s glittery,” Lance said proudly, as he pointed in the general direction of his bead. “Obviously.”

“You don’t have to wear them,” Allura spoke up. “We just wanted you to have them, they’re yours to do as you please.”

She understood. More than anyone. She was the last of her kind, too. The last to carry tradition. The last to remember. And here she stood, offering a piece of herself to help you carry yours.

You smiled down at the bowl, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

They weren’t the same kind that had haunted you weeks ago—sharp, angry, uncontrollable.

These were soft and gentle.

You laughed. Breathy and uncontrollable. The tears didn’t stop.

That seemed to be the response they all needed. The tension in the room melted like morning frost. 

Like a blooming spring after the longest and coldest of winters.

Later that night, you sat on the floor of your room, legs crossed, bowl of beads beside you. 

Your hair had grown more than you realized. It brushed just past your shoulders now.

You braided slowly. You took your moment with each bead, adding them to the same braid. Just beside the one for your brothers.

Fingers careful, breath even, you wove in Lance’s glittering mess of a charm. Hunk’s small piece of meteorite, Allura’s polished marble, Coran’s slightly off centered one… 

You chuckled softly, lips tugging up.

The room was quiet, still. The kind of peace you’d once forgotten how to find.

But then—you felt it.

A shift in the air. You turned, instinctively.

Keith stood in the doorway. Leaning against the frame, arms folded. His eyes were on you, but not in a way that made you feel watched. It was gentler than that.

When your eyes met his, he smiled. A small, rare thing that crinkled the corner of his eyes.

You smiled back.

“Thought you’d be on the observatory deck,” you said softly.

“Thought you’d be up there too,” he replied, stepping in slowly. “Guess we were both wrong.”

You turned slightly, patting the spot on the floor beside you. “Come here.”

Keith walked over and sat down next to you without question, his knee touching your thigh. He looked down at the bowl still resting beside your knee.

“You’ve added them,” he said, his voice just above a whisper.

“Not all of them yet,” you replied.

You picked up the last one.

His.

Small. Dark red. Steady in your palm.

You turned to him, tilting your head slightly.

“Do you want to braid it in?”

Keith blinked. His eyes flicked from your face to the bead in your hand, then back.

“I… can?”

You nodded. “It’s yours. If you want it there.”

His fingers hovered for a second—uncertain, reverent.

Then he reached out, and you turned so your back faced him. Gently, you lifted the braid for him to see.

Keith was quiet as he worked. Careful, deliberate. His fingers brushed your hair like it was sacred.

When he finished, he let his hand rest for just a moment longer than needed. Then he sat back.

“There,” he said, barely above a whisper.

You turned around and faced the mirror again. The bead glinted faintly beneath the rest—small, subtle, solid.

You smiled.

“Perfect,” you said.

He looked at your reflection in the mirror.

NAVIGATION ⋮ MASTERLIST

𖹭 AH, DOMESTICITY by asian-hero [ONESHOT] [2.7K]

⇢ You and Shiro being absolute dorks and spending your free time together.

𖹭 AND YET- by takashixreader [DRABBLE] [0.9K]

⇢ “What are you doing?” “Something stupid.”

𖹭 ARGUE, RINSE, REPEAT by asian-hero [ONESHOT] [1K]

⇢ Tactical meetings always go the same way: you suggest something risky, Shiro shuts it down, and by the end, everyone else is scared for their lives. But when an urgent battle leaves no room for debates, the two of you have to find a way to work together without killing each other first.

𖹭 BACK TO YOU by asian-hero [DRABBLE] [0.8K]

⇢ After four years of waiting, the real Shiro is finally back. But with missing memories, a missing arm, and way too much sass, your reunion is anything but normal.

𖹭 CALM, COOL, AND COMPLETELY DONE WITH YOU by asian-hero [ONESHOT] [1.1K]

⇢ You’ve always kept your emotions in check, especially around Shiro, your childhood friend and now fellow Voltron member. But after too many injuries and close calls, your calm demeanor starts to crack. When Shiro shows up covered in blood, your worry finally spills over—and you don’t know whether to yell at him or kiss him.

𖹭 CAPTAIN CRUSH by asian-hero [HEADCANONS]

⇢ Shiro's first reaction to having a crush is trying to willpower it away.

𖹭 CAUGHT STARING by avengerdragoness [ONESHOT] [1K]

⇢ After being saved by the paladins you learned that Shiro could be described with a multitude of words. Brave, strong, handsome, courageous. All of those , but there was another one: oblivious.

𖹭 CLASSIFIED CRUSH by asian-hero [ONESHOT] [1.9K]

⇢ Shiro’s been through intergalactic war, but nothing prepares him for the battlefield of fatherhood… or the unexpected feelings he’s catching for his daughter’s sweet and witty teacher.

𖹭 COUNSELOR SHIRO by avengerdragoness [DRABBLE] [0.9K]

⇢ You came for your sister and stayed for the dreamy camp counselor.

𖹭 COUNSELOR SHIRO by savetheblackpaladin [HEADCANONS]

𖹭 COVER KISS by voltronshorts [DRABBLE] [0.5K]

⇢ Mall chase goes south. You improvise. Shiro malfunctions.

𖹭 CRASH LANDING | SAVING YOU by fairy-writes [TWOSHOT] [2.1K]

⇢ When you opened your eyes, you realized three things. One, you were hanging suspended by your flight harness, face mere feet from the cracked windshield of your crashed ship. You were on a cliff side, dangling precariously over the edge and looking down into blackness. Two, crumpled and twisted metal pinned your legs, blood oozing from the wounds. And three, fuel was dripping dangerously close to a sparking wire.

𖹭 DATING A DEFENDER by cait-writes-stuff [DRABBLE] [0.4K]

⇢ Lance’s latest pick-up attempt goes sideways when you turn the tables—right into Shiro’s arms.

𖹭 DATING HEADCANONS by savetheblackpaladin [HEADCANONS]

𖹭 DEFENDER OF MY HEART by savetheblackpaladin [ONESHOT] [1.3K]

⇢ A princess who’s skeptical of all things heroic, and a Paladin who’s determined to prove her wrong. They might just be each other’s worst enemies—or something more.

𖹭* DON’T LOVE ME by shirohcsbecausewhythehellnot [ONESHOT] [16K]

⇢ The Paladins rescue a mysterious human woman from the Galra, and over time, Shiro finds himself falling for her. She's kind, brave—and hiding a deadly secret. Her true mission? Destroy Voltron. But when the moment comes to kill Shiro, love gets in the way of betrayal.

𖹭 ECHOES OF YOU by panda-noosh [ONESHOT] [2K]

⇢ Shiro finds you after your capture, but you’re not the same. And worse—you don’t even recognize him.

𖹭 ESPRESSO LOVE by shirohcsbecausewhythehellnot [ONESHOT] [5.7K]

⇢ Your best friend warned you. Your brain said no. But your heart? It skipped a beat the second Professor Shirogane said your name. Now you’re stuck between caffeine-fueled shifts, flirty language lessons, and feelings you really shouldn’t have for your teacher.

𖹭* FAVOR | RETURNING THE FAVOR by savetheblackpaladin [HEADCANONS]

𖹭 FLIRTING LESSONS by avengerdragoness [ONESHOT] [1.3K]

⇢ Shiro was not one much for flirting. He never felt the need, never was interested in anyone that way. But boy did you change things.

𖹭 HOW TO TRAIN YOUR MERMAID by panda-noosh [ONESHOT] [2.4K]

⇢ Shiro wasn't expecting to teach a wayward mermaid how to be human, but here he is, supervising her first shower.

𖹭* I’M YOURS by shirohcsbecausewhythehellnot [ONESHOT] [4.6K]

⇢ At a fancy gala, Shiro’s girlfriend finds herself stuck dealing with a flirty higher-up whose support the Coalition desperately needs. She’s torn—play nice for diplomacy’s sake or shut it down because, well, she has a boyfriend. Meanwhile, Shiro is not having it. Protective and a little possessive, he makes it very clear she’s taken—without blowing their mission.

𖹭 IMAGINE BEING A CAPTAIN OF A REBEL RESISTANCE FORCE AGAINST THE GALRA EMPIRE... by simplyfandomish [ONESHOT] [4.4K]

𖹭 JEALOS ORBIT by savetheblackpaladine [ONESHOT] [1.5K]

⇢ Shiro walks in on his girlfriend and Keith in a very questionable repair position. Cue jealous glares, petty payback, and a steamy massage that turns into the world’s hottest fake-out.

𖹭 LAZY MORNINGS by shirohcsbecausewhythehellnot [ONESHOT] [1K]

⇢ Shiro is insecure about himself, so you list everything there there is to prove he shouldn’t be.

𖹭 MARRIAGE AND OTHER SPOILERS by avengerdragoness [DRABBLE] [0.1K]

⇢ “…Why did you throw confetti in my face?”

𖹭 MISSION: FLUSTER SHIRO by savetheblackpaladin [ONESHOT] [1.2K]

⇢ Shiro’s got a problem, and it’s you. Between the innuendos, teasing, and very strategic thigh-based combat, you’ve got him hanging on by a thread. The Paladins aren’t helping, either.

𖹭 NEIGHBORLY WELCOME by voltronshorts [DRABBLE] [0.9K]

⇢ Your Tokyo summer is spent knee-deep in dirt, sweat, and neighborly favors, but the surprise arrival of one very charming son might just make it all worthwhile.

𖹭 NURSE SHIRO by shirohcsbecausewhythehellnot [ONESHOT] [1.3K]

⇢ You get sick after a freezing mission gone wrong, and Shiro insists on playing nurse—even if that means sneaking in Hunk’s soup and risking a few forehead kisses. But once you're back on your feet, it’s your turn to return the favor. Now Shiro's the grumpy, feverish mess… and definitely milking it.

𖹭 ONCE PRISONERS | PT.2 | PT.3 by avengerdragoness [MULTI-PART] [4.9K]

⇢ After the battle with Zarkon, Shiro wakes up back on a galra ship. However this time he finds himself a new friend, a way to escape and maybe more.

𖹭 OVERWORKED by dive-bombing-owls [DRABBLE] [0.8K]

⇢ You always had trouble remembering to take care of yourself. You’d get so caught up in whatever you were doing, you’d neglect your basic needs. However, you’d never let the Paladins know this, much less Shiro.

𖹭 PLEASE. JUST ONE PULSE by avengerdragoness [ONESHOT] [1.5K]

⇢ Going alone to save Pidge’s family, you face a dangerous Galra ship with no backup and a broken comm. Trapped, wounded, and racing against time, you fight to complete your mission—and survive. Meanwhile, Shiro struggles to hold on to hope as the stakes get higher than ever.

𖹭 PROMISE | VOW by saratogaroadwrites [TWOSHOT] [2.7K]

⇢ What if Shiro left behind an S/O when he left for the Kerberos Mission? A year is a very long time to wait.

𖹭 RAGE-QUITTING AND RING-PUTTING by asian-hero [ONESHOT] [1.1K]

⇢ What starts as a simple gaming night turns into a full-blown shouting match—until Shiro drops the most unexpected proposal mid-battle.

𖹭 REUNION by asian-hero [HEADCANONS]

𖹭 SLEEPY GIGGLES by queenendless [DRABBLE] [0.8K]

⇢ You have a nightmare. Shiro is there to lift your mood :)

𖹭 SHIRO IN RETAIL by savetheblackpaladin [HEADCANONS]

𖹭 SPARRING MATCH by avengerdragoness [ONESHOT] [1.1K]

⇢ Tired of always losing to Shiro, you secretly train with Keith to finally prove yourself. After weeks of early mornings and bruises, you take Shiro down in a spar—and his heart all over again. Keith’s proud. Also mildly scarred.

𖹭 SPARRING MATCH by shirohcsbecausewhythehellnot [ONESHOT] [1.8K]

⇢ After relentless begging, you finally convince Shiro to spar, only to realize he’s an absolute menace. But when you accidentally (on purpose) pin him down, he decides to fight dirty—with tickles. Cue tears, laughter, and an extremely unimpressed Lance.

𖹭 STAY AWAKE by shirohcsbecausewhythehellnot [ONESHOT] [2.2K]

⇢ What was supposed to be an easy mission goes wrong fast. You and Shiro get trapped, outnumbered, and you end up seriously hurt. With no other choice, Shiro uses his arm to save you. Things get scary, but in the end, you pull through and wake up to him still right there, holding on.

𖹭 STILL ME, STILL YOURS by pidgeon-holt [DRABBLE] [0.4K]

⇢ After a mission gone wrong leaves you with more than just scars, Shiro struggles with guilt—until you wake up and remind him you’re still you.

𖹭 TEACHER COUPLE by savetheblackpaladin [HEADCANONS]

𖹭 THE EXPEDITION | PT.2 | PT.3 | PT.4 | PT.5 | PT.6 | PT.7 by asian-hero [SERIES] [10.9K]

⇢ You just wanted to pay rent. Instead, you’re leading a ragtag team of disasters, dodging questionable alliances, and maybe regretting every life decision that got you here. NOTE: Sadly it’s not finished :( but it’s so worth the reading!

𖹭 THE BLANKET THEIF by asian-hero [DRABBLE] [0.5K]

⇢ “You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!” Shiro's greatest crime isn’t against the Galra Empire — it’s against your toes. And tonight, justice is served cold (literally).

𖹭 THE SCIENTIFIC METHOD OF FALLING FOR YOU by voltronshorts [DRABBLE] [0.4K]

⇢ “I need you to make out with me. Don’t worry though, it’s for science.”

𖹭 TO THEIR AMUSEMENT by yeehawvoltronfanfics [ONESHOT] [1.1K]

⇢ You weren’t stupid, you knew the famous hero “Kuron” who stopped crime everyday and defeated the top tier villains, was your sweet everyday high schooler Shiro, simply because seeing him jump from a alleyway in a superhero costume was enough proof for you. And you weren’t stupid enough to have a small little crush on him. Maybe….maybe you were.

𖹭 UNCENSORED by cait-writes-stuff [DRABBLE] [0.4K]

⇢ A stubbed toe sets off a chaotic chain of swearing, awkward questions, and rising tension between you and Shiro.

𖹭 WAS IT JUST IN MY HEAD? reblogged by takashixreader [ONESHOT] [1.3K]

⇢ You told Shiro how you felt, only to realize the person you loved… wasn’t really him. Now that he knows the truth, will he fight for what was almost lost?

𖹭 WORTH WAITING FOR by shirohcsbecausewhythehellnot [ONESHOT] [3.5K]

⇢ You and Shiro dated before Kerberos but after they found him, he decided to break things off. Cut to three months later, you made a risky move during a mission and Shiro is pissed. You are forced to talk it out.

𖹭 YOGA WITH SHIRO by voltronisanobsession [HEADCANONS]