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mydearestreaderfanfics · 5 years ago

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In Your Arms (Lance x Reader)

Warnings: swearing, pining, angst (with a happy ending)

Word Count: 4,474

Prompt/Request: could you do a lance/ female reader with the prompt/senario "We've been best friends since pre-K, and now we're in college but things seem off, and I'm sad because I've crushed on you for years, oh damn you like me too?" kinda thing?? Best friends to lovers (while being pining idiots) is my jam

Summary: Lance and the reader have been best friends for longer than either can remember, but pining may just cause a rift in their friendship.

Author's Note: I've included a song for this anon, too. The song is the In Your Arms by the artist Kina Grannis. I hope you enjoy!

Author: Mod Alex

I shoved open my best friend’s bedroom door, not even bothering to knock, I hadn’t needed to in a long time. My cheeks felt like they were going to rip from how wide I was smiling. “Guess what?”

Lance looked up from his laptop, a simple smile on his lips. “What?”

I held up the plain white envelope I’d been hiding behind my back up until now. “This is what!” I was practically hopping in place. He set his laptop to the side, moving with grabby hands for it. “Uh, uh, uh! Move over.” He whined but flopped over allowing me enough room to plop down beside him. I slumped over so that I could rest snuggly against him before holding the envelope over both of our heads. “Take a look.”

“It’s from KU!” Lance grabbed your arm, shaking it (and by extension you) with excitement. “Well, open it already.”

“Yeah, yeah. You have no sense of suspense.” You really couldn’t blame him, he’d gotten his letter a week earlier and you had been just as pushy then. You flipped the envelope picking open the paper to reveal the letter.

“Read it, read it, read it!”

You smacked his prying hand away, snatching the letter before he had a chance to. You cleared your throat before speaking, mimicking a faux administrative voice. “Dear Ms. (Y/n) (L/n), it is with great pleasure- oh my god!” Lance beamed, grabbing the letter with one hand and hugging you tight with the other since you had taken to squealing into his chest.

He kept up the ridiculous voice you had been using as he picked up where you left off. “...it is with great pleasure that we inform you that you have been accepted for admission to Kerberos University. Congratulations, (N/n).” He must have set the letter aside because after a moment you felt his other arm come to hold you tight. You relished in the feeling. You two had always been this affectionate, after all, you’d basically grown up together, but sometime around… say seventh grade, your feelings for him had gone from closest friend to friend you wanted to be much, much closer with. So lying here with your ear pressed firmly to his chest and his heart beating steadily with his arms wrapped securely around you was both everything you could possibly want and absolute torture at the same time. You wanted nothing more than to be able to lean up and kiss him, this was the perfect opportunity to, but you couldn't and so you forced yourself to be content with lying with him. And in the meantime, you didn’t have to force yourself to be happy to go to the same university as him.

Realistically speaking the place you'd managed to rent was off-campus and you two would be sharing it with several other people, but your daydreams still took place with you and him in domestic fluff before heading to class and dipping in and out of the house throughout the day. Can you blame a girl? Even if your daydreams were a bit of a stretch from reality, you couldn’t say you were unhappy. Being able to wake up to a post-it note on your oval mirror from Lance wishing you good luck on a test or reminding you that you are fantastic. Cute little things that would send the butterflies in your tummy on a frenzy. The best thing about the shared house, though, was being able to have sleepovers with Lance basically every night. One of you was always falling asleep in the other's room, so much so that you basically shared two rooms- not that you were complaining.

Like this morning, you woke up to the light shining on your face. You groaned quietly in protest before letting your eyes flutter open when the bright annoyance refused to leave. The stars on the ceiling were the first thing you saw. You admired them for a moment, they were the kind that was common in children’s bedrooms- the glowy kind. They weren’t glowing now, it was too bright for that. They were still pretty, though. The stars also meant that you were in Lance’s room, specifically in his bed. It wasn’t abnormal-- like you'd said before you could usually be found here with him and vice versa. You turned, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. He looked beautiful, his features soft and unburdened. It was enough to make your heart thud in your chest. His arm was draped over your midsection, not necessarily holding, but not, not holding you either. You let yourself relax in his presence. “Mmm, good morning, gorgeous.” You blushed, having not expected his flirting to begin this early in the day. It wasn’t real flirting, of course, as you’d reminded yourself countless times in the past, it was just his flamboyant personality.

“Morning yourself. How’d you sleep?” He whined in response, burying his head on your shoulder.

“I’d have slept better if I got to sleep in longer.”

You laughed. “Lance, it’s almost noon.” Just as you had said, the digital alarm on his bedside ticked again, showing the actual time to be 11:48.

“But it’s my day off.” He kept whining and you couldn’t help but chuckle again. It was your free day too and as nice as laying in bed with him was, you had no intention of wasting your one free day by not going out.

“Tough, buddy. Come on-- up and at em’. I’m taking you to breakfast-- er, I guess technically lunch.”

“Oh? Are you asking me on a date, (N/n)?” His voice lilted teasingly. You socked him in the shoulder, glad he wasn’t looking at you to see how flustered his comment had made you.

“Tch, you wish. But seriously hurry up, I’m hungry.”

Lance got up a little while later giving you the opportunity to get ready. The restaurant was a short walk away and was decently cheap (which was good as you planned on paying for both of us!) which was part of why Lance and you frequented this place. The other part was how good their food was. Many study nights had taken place at your humble little hidey-hole.

You two were lucky, though, since it was your free day there would be no studying. Instead, you could sit and enjoy people watching, with good food and even better conversation. Lance's comment stuck with you though, and though you had been quick to write it off, a part of you deeply wished his joking had been true-- that maybe deep down he really had wanted this to be a date. God knows you did. By now the waitress knew your orders, a testament to your frequent visits here. "So what are your plans for the day?"

"I thought you were calling the shots?"

"Haha, you're a free man. You only came cause you wanted food, not because I dragged you here." You stuck out your tongue in a playfully childish manner. He returned the gesture before you both burst into laughter.

"You have a point, but I'm serious. I want to spend my day off with you, so whatever you have planned, count me in." Your heart was making its attempt to pound out of my chest, the butterflies not far behind. You just hoped your blush wasn't as obvious as it felt.

"Well, in that case, you get to spend your day off going with me to the thrift store."

"Oh? Spontaneity or refurbishing?"

"Yes."

"I'm in."

"You don't even know what we're doing."

He beamed at you, "I don't have to. I like surprises and I know it'll be fun since I'm with you." He's too sweet, you could practically melt.

"Alright, sweet! Then after we're done here, we can head over."

Lance had attempted to protest when you paid for breakfast, but eventually, your stubbornness won out, as it generally did in your friendship. You drove your way to a little hole in the wall thrift store that you went to whenever you had a little extra cash on hand. It wasn't as popular as the Goodwill the next street over, but the two ladies who ran it were as sweet as can be and they always had secret gems that you were sure you wouldn't be able to find anywhere else. You'd found an antique chair that, after a quick varnish and reupholstery, was quick to become your favorite chair. Or the time you'd found some beautiful curtains that, while they wouldn't quite fit your window, made for the perfect fabric for a dress. You didn't plan on going for any furniture, save for a nice full-length mirror that you'd been on the lookout for. No, while that had been your original plan for the day, you had completely changed course now that you were in the company of Lance. You wanted to have some fun. In the parking lot, you explained the game to Lance.

“Okay, so the way it works is we both have a budget of ten dollars and we have to create a full outfit for each other. I figure since we’ve known each other since forever it should work better since we know each other's style. And don’t be an ass, since there’s somewhere I plan on going later with you in these outfits. What do you think?”

He grinned at you, “Sounds fun.”

You split up once you got into the shop. Occasionally you’d sneak glances at him and he’d stick his tongue out at you and tell you to stop peaking. You’d laugh and tell him you just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to make you look ridiculous. Of course, you knew he wouldn’t, he had a better sense of style than most of your friend group combined. Thankfully you were familiar with this sense of style and had already taken to curating an outfit for him. You’d been here dozens of times so you knew just how to find the perfect deals and the most eye-catching pieces. So far you’d found a Nasa shirt that would make a nice contrast to a darker jean jacket you’d found. You wanted to find a nice pair of light jeans to balance it all, but so far you hadn’t had any luck. It was as you perused the aisles of clothes and did the mental math to figure out just how much more you could spend when you saw them-- the most perfect pair of light blue acid-washed jeans you’d ever seen. If they hadn't been exactly Lance’s size, you would have considered buying and tailoring them for yourself. At this point, you figured you could stop but you still had three bucks left and the shoe aisle was calling to you. ”Oh, well aren’t you perfect,” you mumbled to yourself as you found a pair of boots, a pair of knockoff Doc Martens, that looked exactly like a pair Lance had loved before they wore out not long ago. One of the ladies called you over and you obliged her, you wouldn’t ring anything up until after Lance had tried everything on just to make sure everything fit right, but you had no problem with chatting with her until Lance had finished.

“Oh, dear, I think it’s so cute that your boyfriend and you are doing that-- what do they call it Maggie?”

“Goodwill Date Night, love.”

“Yes, thank you hon. I think it’s so cute that your boyfriend and you are doing that Goodwill Date Night and at our humble shop no less!”

You squeaked, trying to shake your hands to tell her, no, but they were full. “We aren’t, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just my best friend, I just thought it would be a fun thing to do. It’s not like that, Ruth.”

She giggled to herself. “Alright, dear whatever you say.” She turned to Maggie and they talked like two schoolgirls sharing in delightful gossip. You sighed, walking over to the dressing room where you and Lance planned to meet, it was as you walked there that you found on a rack of hats a grey and white striped beanie. It was still a little chilly out so it wouldn’t be terrible to wear temperature-wise, and it polished off your ten bucks leaving you with no more than measly chump change.

A few minutes later Lance joined you, he was grinning but it didn’t meet his eyes. Something was wrong. “Lance are you ok-”

“Here you are! Oh are these for me, you shouldn’t have!” He took the bundle of clothes from you like a child on Christmas, and yet it didn’t feel right. He had just cut your sentence off, something he never did. Just as you were about to comment on it, he bounded over to the dressing room. Worry gnawed at you, but there wasn't much you could do with him in the dressing room. Instead, you took your clothes and went into the dressing room next door to Lance to get changed. It was the perfect outfit, you’d expected no less, of course. The jacket he threw in fit you like a glove, and it was just light enough that you knew you wouldn’t overheat. The cute pair of shoes he'd picked out for you somehow even managed to be comfy!

“You ready?”

“You know it!” Both of you left your respective dressing rooms.

“Yay! The jacket fits! You’re out here looking like a full course meal, Lancy.” You spoke playfully, though you meant every word. He didn’t respond, and you looked up at him to see he looked, well, starstruck. He seemed to realize you caught him and he shook himself out of it.

Yet, when he spoke his voice still had certain awe to it. “You look, you look stunning, (N/n).” Your eyes widened for a moment before you broke your gaze from his, refusing to make eye contact, afraid that if you did you would do or say something to tarnish your friendship, but god, if you didn’t want to kiss his beautiful face right now.

Lance continued to be strange throughout the rest of the evening, although he agreed to keep by your side for the rest of the day as he’d originally told you. Keeping up with the theme of spontaneity, you decided to try another thing you’d always wanted to do but never had the guts to ask Lance on a real date to do it. So a should-have-been date was now a platonic outing with your best friend, even if you still really wished it was a date. So after adorning your new outfits, you began your “penny date”, a concept where one person chooses a number between ten and twenty, symbolizing how many times a penny is flipped, heads for right and tails for left. The penny is flipped when you arrive at a junction and by the time you run out of flips, you have to find something for a “date” at the location. Although Lance was still being weird and a little distant, much to your growing concern, he did seem to enjoy the idea. The game had led you to a little arcade where you and Lance spent the rest of the night playing various retro games and ate more pizza than you’d like to admit.

“It’s getting late, should we turn in?” You two were in an uninhabited corner of the arcade, not that there were many people, to begin with.

“Mmm, maybe. Just a few more games?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, instead of laughing or play arguing like he usually did, he looked away, and you swear you could see the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“Yeah, we can stay a little longer.” You took his hand, it would eat at you forever if you didn’t find out what was bothering him. His head snapped up, eyes fixing on your intertwined hands.

“Lance, please, I know something is wrong. You’ve been acting off since the thrift shop. I thought maybe I was imagining things, but I don’t think I was. You can talk to me, you know? Did I do something to upset you?” His other hand had come up to hold your cheek tenderly.

“No, no you didn’t-- I’m the one that messed up.”

“Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He shook his head sadly.

“I did.”

“I don’t understand.”

“(Y/n).” Was it just you or was he leaning closer as he spoke? “It’s because.” Your eyes started to flutter shut, he was going to kiss you! “I like-”

“Sorry to interrupt but we’re closing. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Lance and you shot apart as if you’d been burned.

That had been almost a week ago. That night the drive home had been filled with a suffocating awkward silence. Since then it was like Lance had been avoiding you. Honestly, at this point, you didn’t know what to do. Your friends had even begun to notice your mopey behavior. A knock sounded at your bedroom door; you had yet to get out of bed today and you weren’t about to now. Whoever it was could just go away. When no other knock came you thought whoever it was had left, and then the door opened. If you had the energy to you’d groan in exasperation. “Oh, (N/n).” The hint of anger you had harbored at the intruder melted away as your friend Hunk sat beside you on the bed. “When was the last time you got up?” You shrugged as best you could while lying face down. “What happened? Did you and Lance have a fight?” His comment made you wonder if Lance was being weird with the others. You supposed it was if Hunk thought you had fought. You shook your head. He got up and you assumed your noncommital attitude had run him off too, but a moment later you felt him sit again. He began brushing your hair and despite your whines, you settled down quickly. It felt nice and you were sure you needed it. He hummed, filling the mocking silence with warmth. “Can you sit up? If not that’s okay, it would just be easier to braid it if you were sitting.”

“Okay.” Your voice was croaky from lack of use, but Hunk still smiled encouragingly. His fingers carded through your hair with ease and when he finished he pulled you into a hug. You broke. Tears that had come and gone in solitude now poured freely down your cheeks as Hunk shushed you. “I don’t know what I did. He hates me now, Hunk. I don’t know how to fix things, I just want him back.” You blabbered, words blurring together. Knowing he couldn’t do much to fix anything, Hunk just rocked you until your sobs subsided. When they did you pulled away from the hug.

“So you did have a falling out?” He spoke carefully, afraid you might fall apart again.

“That’s the thing, I thought we were okay. The other day we were going out to a couple places and after the thrift shop he was being strange and then....” You sighed, hugging yourself, taking a breath to steady yourself. “And then I thought maybe he was going to kiss me and we got interrupted and it’s been even worse since then. Whenever I do see him he acts as if nothing happened but he won't stay around me any longer than five seconds. It’s been a week, Hunk. I’m dying.”

“You said the thrift store?”

“Yeah?” Hunk gave an exasperated sounding laugh.

“(N/n), things are going to be okay. For now, I need you to trust me on that, okay. There are muffins downstairs, fresh. You should go eat. I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Wha-- Where are you going?”

“I’m fixing things!” He called out as he left.

Although a big part of you wanted to lay back down and mope, you needed to work on the schoolwork that you’d put off and... the muffins did smell good. Nobody else was home, so you felt a bit better about leaving the security of your room. After a couple of muffins and the first round of schoolwork, you took a quick shower and put yourself back together. You still felt destroyed but at least now you looked like less of a wreck. You’d taken to studying at your desk in your room by the time Hunk got back. It was much earlier than he had told you, still hours before dinner. “(N/n), you look much better.”

You sighed, “I tried to do what you asked, but I still feel like a raging dumpster fire.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile, “I figured. But I’m proud of you for doing this much. I need to ask you to do one more thing, though.”

“Oh?”

“Can you go meet Pidge at the library, she needs back her copy of some textbook. I don’t remember which one, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck like he did whenever he was embarrassed.

“Oh, um, sure.” You wanted to ask how the fixing was going but you didn’t want to seem pushy. Besides, you could always ask him when you got back, you guess.

You got to the library which was thankfully only a short jog away from the parking lot. You pulled out your phone to shoot her a text asking where she was when you didn’t automatically see Pidge. Almost instantly you got a message telling you that she was in a study room. You smiled knowingly, it was typical of Pidge to reserve a study room all to herself for days on end. You trekked that way, keeping an eye out for the room number she said she would be in. It was at the end of the hall. “Hey, sorry for keeping your textbook for so lo-- Lance?” Lance was reclining in one of the chairs; he had almost fallen when you entered.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?”

“I’m meeting Pidge, to return her textbook. What are you doing here?”

“I’m meeting Hunk, he wanted to try out a new recipe and said he was coming from the culinary building.” Your eyebrow furrowed. What was he talking about? Hunk was at home. It registered then, a light-bulb moment indeed. You’d been had. You turned to leave, but the doors slammed in your face, Pidge’s voice calling out from behind it.

“Sorry, (N/n), I had to do it to ya.” She snorted at her own meme reference. “You guys need to talk through things. I am not spending another second watching you two lovesick fools mope because you each think you ruined your friendship.” You flustered, she really was just gonna expose you like that.

“Pidge, you can’t just lock us in here-” Lance was beside you now, banging on the door.

“Actually I can, and I did. I’ll be back in an hour.” True to her word, Pidge’s footsteps faded away despite Lance and your protests.

You slumped at the door while Lance paced the room like a caged tiger. Watching him stabbed at your heart until you’d curled in on yourself, fighting off a fresh wave of tears. Did he hate being around you that much? What had you done? Lance noticed your disposition, his concern quickly switching from the situation to you. Within moments he was at your side. You were so confused, for a week now he’d been acting like he wanted nothing to do with you and now he was at your side trying to console you. You must have said that out loud since Lance has stopped all of his ministrations to eye you with guilt. “(N/n)-”

“Lance, can’t you just talk to me? We’ve been best friends since pre-K, but it’s like you want nothing to do with me.”

“It’s not that, I swear to you. It’s… It’s actually the opposite.”

“What?”

“I’ve crushed on you for years, honestly at this point, I’m pretty sure what I feel for you is more than a crush. Back at the thrift shop that day I heard you talking with the shop owners. You made it pretty clear my feelings aren’t reciprocated.”

“You like me?”

“Yeah, and I almost kissed you and ruined our friendship and I haven’t been able to face you because I know you just see us as friends, and I don't want to ruin that, but I just-- I can’t want that. Not anymore. I want to go on silly dates with you like that and wake up next to you and hold you and kiss you and just be able to know that I’m not an idiot for falling in love with my best friend-- I… I’m sorry.” He turned away from you, mortified at spilling his heart out.

“Lance.” You took his hand, but he still refused to look at you. “Lancy.” Your voice was soft, tender even. “I like you too. I have for a long time, like a really long time. Why do you think I took you out on that excursion. I mean jeez, I haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“But you told the ladies-”

“I was flustered and to be fair we weren’t dating.” He looked even more embarrassed if that was even possible.

“I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “You have no reason to be. We could have handled that better sure, but,” you shrugged, “everything turned out right in the end. I guess we owe Hunk and Pidge our thanks. Although I do wonder how he found out about the thrift shop...”

“I may have told him my woes.” You chortled at his embarrassed mumble. You wiped away a tear from laughing to see Lance holding open the arm that wasn’t occupied by your hand. You practically flew into his arms. You stayed cuddled in each other's arms like that for a good long while after all Pidge said she was going back in an hour.

Bonus:

That night, Lance had taken to cuddling you in your bed. You’d been joined at the hip since that afternoon when Pidge had come to free you. Your friends were happy to have you both happy again and were quick to remind you that you owed them, although they were mostly jesting. You didn't mind much either way. Lance was officially your boyfriend, your greatest wish come true. At the moment he was almost asleep, happily tucked in with you when you spoke. “Wait so you mean to tell me that we could have been together for a lot longer?”

“Well, damn.”

#voltron #lance x reader #fanfictions #lance mcclain #swearing #pining #angst #mod alex

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