"Mmf," said Shiro, catching crumbs with his robot hand, and then he chewed and swallowed and looked arrested. "Wow, that's really good." He looked around at them all and said, "Do you guys realise you're not talking when you do that?"
Bookmarked by piecesof_reeses
21 Aug 2018
when he's beautiful and you love him but he can't make toast, the fic
Exactly eight months and four days later, Keith finds himself holding a cupcake.
“Happy birthday, Keith!” says Shiro, brandishing a giant container. There is the sound of gravel from within. “Let me know if you want more, because I made plenty of extras.”
Keith’s mind descends into a chaotic, swirling hellstorm of profanity and despair.
Fuck, thinks Keith.
“Fantastic,” says Keith.
Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender
25 Feb 2017
Keith's human enough to have wisdom teeth and unlucky enough to need them extracted. The team despairs.
Keith and Lance accidentally get into trouble. Shiro is the TA that has to Deal With It™.
Lance takes this as an opportunity to wingman Keith, everyone wants to put in their two cents and Keith just wants to be left alone (with Shiro).
"You guys aren't stupid," Shiro frowned. "Keith is the top of the class, and you're a close second, right?"
"Wanna know what else Keith wants to be on top of?" Lance started, and Keith drove his heel into Lance's foot. He kept the pressure there as Shiro looked at them with a confused expression.
"All his other classes," Lance wheezed, and Keith lifted his foot off. "Which is why I was just as surprised as everyone else when he was caught cheating."
"I didn't cheat!" Keith grumbled and Lance stuck out his tongue. "You were caught too!"
They think it will be funny to leave him with a Galra in heat.
It whimpers. It's a sound of pure pain, one Shiro's heard a hundred times now in the arena. The sound of something wounded and helpless; the sound of something that knows it.
"Are you hurt?" Shiro asks in the bare silence of the cell, and moves a few steps closer.
The creature on the floor twitches violently at his voice. It's not dressed like the other prisoners. It's hard to tell in the poor lighting but the back of its skin-tight suit is glowing in circuits, the same purple he's come to associate with the Galra. "I won't hurt you," he says, softer.
It doesn't make a sound but its back arches, head lifting from the floor, dragging black hair along the floor. It's dripping wet with blood or sweat. Shiro realizes the small sound he's barely been registering is breath—it's panting. It rolls, just enough to eye Shiro through its dark bangs.
He. It's a boy, and he's beautiful.
- Part 1 of to go, to follow