#keith purrs

[helloimareadernotawriter]

Fanart for A Smol Grumpy Child by KitCat1995. Does tumblr do links in html? idk but i sure hope so. The answer is no. lol. Sorry for the bd quality lol. :)

[stjern-tg]

guess who rewatched voltron and fell in this hole again

[seliipi]

K: Heard the Garrison's giving you shit? Mind if I sit in? S: Uh, sure, but why? K: Taking notes S: S: Notes for what, Keith K: S: Keith. Bonus:

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

[3.4K] title from ‘too sweet’ by hozier, just a stressed out steve, a willing girlfriend and a lot of filth. written in two hours and not edited in the slightest i’m sorry do not perceive me.

As sour as Steve had looked when he came home from work, he tasted twice as sweet.

He’d called you on his lunch, voice strained and low and you could picture the stitch between his brows, the downturn of his lips as he grumbled to you down Family Videos landline.

Robin was off sick, Keith was in a foul mood, two kids came in and stole a copy of a porno that was sitting behind the desk and the return pile sat at the height of Steve’s waist.

“Can’t wait to come home,” he had sighed down the line, voice rough and mournful and making your thighs squeeze together just right. “Wanna see you so bad, y’know?”

And you did know.

It seemed to take an age before you heard his car pull into the driveway, brakes squeaking slightly because the rent on the apartment came before any repairs to the BMW now. It’s why you’d poured a whisky for him, neat and no ice, no water, just the way Steve liked it. You considered dinner, home cooked and waiting on the kitchen table but something else took hold in your thoughts.

You could order pizza later.

So Steve came in the door with his shoulders slumped and his keys rattling from his fingertips, his green work vest already discarded and probably balled up in the backseat of his car. That frown was there, the one you’d wanted to soothe away all day for him, creasing at his brows, turning down the corners of his soft and pretty lips.

He thawed when he saw you, barefoot and in an old sweater that was too big for you, legs naked and your skin still warm from the shower you’d taken your time in. Steve held out a hand, groaning in delight when you stepped to him, all soft smiles and softer sweater, allowing him to pull you into his chest. His noises were doing things, rough sighs and low moans that made you think with what was between your legs, his purrs vibrating from his chest to yours as he curled his arms around your lower back.

It was easy to return the affection, pushed onto your tiptoes as you carded your hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, the smell of his cologne that you watched him spray that morning barely clinging to his skin. You nosed at his throat anyway, everything about him smelling like home and when Steve let out a low grunt at your adoration, you used one hand to pull at his jaw, bringing his lips to yours.

It was more than an average kiss ‘hello’. In fact, it made his brows shoot upwards and his breath hitch, the arm still around your waist faltering before he caught up with the pace you had set and tucked you in tighter to his body. He let you lead, eyes fluttering shut as he sighed softer than he had all day, letting you steal the noise and keep it for yourself.

Steve fell pliant for you, pretty lips giving in to yours as you kissed him slow, needy, lazy. Your tongue traced the seam of his mouth, teasing, testing, his breath ragged when he opened for you, trying to catch up. You pulled away then, pleased with the rosy cheeks and blown out pupils that stared back at you.

“Go sit down,” you told him, voice soft, quiet. There was a spell cast, not to be broken, not until Steve did too. “I’ll be through in a second.”

If Steve knew what you were up to, he didn’t say. No questions asked, the boy blinked and stumbled into the doorframe before righting himself, heading for the sofa. You’d long switched the television off, the lamp by the armchair dimmed low, the candles you liked to collect all lit and scattered across the coffee table and the fireplace mantle.

You returned with his whisky, the glass glinting amber in the candle light, your smile too coy. Steve raised his brows as you handed him his drink, his gaze too caught on your bare legs. He reached out for you, warm palm travelling up the back of your thigh, wide enough to curl around it and bring you between his knees.

Exactly where you planned to end up.

“What have I done to deserve this, huh?” He asked, whisky on one hand as he leant his chin on the soft of your stomach, eyes wide and dark as he looked up at you.

You scoffed, soft and light, your hands carding through his hair. You pushed it from his forehead, nails scratching at his scalp, beaming when he closed his eyes like he couldn’t help it, lashes fluttering against the tops of his cheeks. “What? Bring you a drink?”

Steve hummed, distracted. “Was thinkin’ more along the lines of deserving you.”

Love sick, that’s what you felt. An awfully sticky thing that glued itself to your heart at his words. You didn’t know what to say, especially not when he was looking at you like that again, all brown sugar eyes, honeyed and soft. So you bent instead, nose bumping his before you stole another kiss, gentler than before, lingering and as sweet as him.

You let him take one sip of his whisky before you dragged his shirt from his body, hair wild as you pulled it over his head, cheeks flushed and eyes surprised.

“What—?”

You didn’t respond, merely dropping to your knees instead and popping the button on his Levi’s. Steve swore, a dirty, throaty sound that made your stomach flip because you knew that he knew where this was going.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Fuck. You don’t have to do that—”

The sound of his zipped caught in the air, the rest of the evening quiet. The closed curtains and the flicker of the candle light made the small living room feel even tinier, a warm bubble where you could hear every little noise Steve made for you. His hand travelled up your forearm, fingers curling at your elbow and squeezing. Steve looked half gone already, lip parted and shiny from your previous kisses and you knew he’d taste like cedar and smoke now.

“What if I wanna?” You told him, pouring, just a little. Because what man could resist a pretty thing like you on your knees, lips soft and begging? You pushed yourself up, leaning into the space between his hips, your mouth skimming along his jawline, tongue licking into the corner of his mouth all sweet. It was barely a kiss, but it was somehow dirtier. “What if I told you I wanna make you feel better? That I’ve been thinking about your cock in my mouth all day?”

Steve groaned, falling into you, head on your shoulder, teeth biting down on the junction of your neck. “Fuck— baby. Baby, y’cant, you can’t just say shit like that.”

You grinned, amusement hidden from him as Steve continued to mouth at your throat, nose nudging down the collar of your sweater so he could kiss more skin. “I can’t?” You asked.

“Gonna make me lose my fuckin’ mind,” he mumbled. He lifted his head then, cheeks pink and eyes looking heavy lidded, pupils black and too big. He looked delirious on you. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed heavily, tongue licking at his lips. “You really been thinking about that?”

You nodded, making your eyes a little too wide, too innocent, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and it was a cheap shot, an easy target— but fuck, it worked every time. Steve’s hand slid to your ass, lifting your sweater out of his way and squeezing a plump cheek, only your underwear to be found underneath.

“So can I?” You whispered, mouth parted, brushing against his. You shared your breath with him, nose pushed to his warm cheek, hands coasting over his thighs as you prepared to tug down those too tight jeans.

Steve sounded too breathy when he answered but he still played your game, too far gone or not. He was watching your mouth when he spoke, transfixed by the pink gloss there, the way he could see your tongue between them. “Can you what, honey?”

You smirked.

Steve knew what you were asking. He just wanted to hear you say it again.

“Can I suck your cock?”

You heard it then, the hitch in his throat, the too harsh exhale. Steve looked at you like you were everything, like you’d hung each star and you were ever wet dream all at once. Lips pressed together to deal in his moan, his filthy words, he nodded, hair falling into dark eyes. And when he trusted his voice, albeit rougher and lower than before, he spoke.

“Yeah, honey, go ‘head.” He lifted his hips when you tapped them, jeans and boxers shoved down just enough for his cock to spring free, already hard and hitting his stomach. “You’re so— you’re so fucking sweet, y’know that?”

You smiled, all coy, faux shyness as you leaned your cheek onto his thigh, denim and coarse hair against your skin. Steve gasped when you wrapped a small hand around him, fingers barely meeting around his girth and you stroked once, twice. “I am?”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer before your tongue followed, a lazy, wide lick from the base of him to his tip, already dark pink and slick for you. Steve’s hips canted up, head thrown back against the cushions and you adored the way you got to watch his jaw tense, neck straining as he calmed himself down.

“God,” he blew out a breath, eyes trained on the ceiling because if he looked down and saw the way you were kissing a line up his cock, he’d fucking lose it. “Yeah, baby. The sweetest, Jesus Christ.”

You took it easy on him then, easing him into it until his shoulders sagged and his head tipped back up, his pretty face more flushed than ever but Steve watched you as you took him into your mouth, his jaw unhinged as you sucked the tip of him, licking over his head.

His hand found the back of your head, holding but not pushing and he groaned something fierce when you scratched at his bare thighs, nails dragging over the muscle there. “Tha’ s’it,” Steve moaned, unabashed, totally gone. “Keep suckin’ me, honey, yeah— please. Can you take more, huh? Take a little more for me, please, baby.”

You didn’t need to be asked, begging or not, but it certainly made it all that sweeter. Steve’s hand was cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over the corner of your mouth as you widened it, tongue licking out over his cock as you took more of it into your mouth, inch by inch until he was touching the back of your throat. It made the boy go a little wild, gasping and panting, curses mixed in with praise that was filthy enough to make your own toes curl.

“Holy shit, jus’ like that, yeah,” Steve was slurring, words meshed together in a quick mumble, his breathes too heavy for him to care. “You feel me in your throat? You’re so fuckin’ good for me, babe, Christ— yeah, yeah, lemme see your tongue, yeah. Stick it out for me, honey, oh shit—”

You did as asked, pulling back with wet eyes and warm cheeks, your lips shiny from your efforts. You kept a hand around Steve’s cock, slowly pumping him as you stuck your tongue out flat. You knew what he wanted, it was why his cheeks were so pink, the tips of his ears too. Something he found too vulgar to ask for, always scared you’d shy away from it.

You never did.

You tapped the head of his cock against your tongue, the wet slapping sounds nothing but pure filth, your own breathy noises too much for him. Steve could barely keep it together, eyes screwing shut as he bucked upwards, swearing and groaning something awful as he watched his cock slide over your tongue. You let him move, hips thrusting as you held him to your mouth, parted lips slipping over his shaft, and warm tongue tracing the throbbing vein down the length of it.

“M’gonna come,” Steve gasped and he was shaking his head, hips pressing back down into the safety of the couch and he sounded overwhelmed, eyes glassy. “Fuck, no, no, no— I—”

“No?” You pouted, understanding. Pulling away, you leaned up again, wet lips sliding over Steve’s and he kissed you feverishly, tongue licking into your mouth to search for your own. He groaned, whining when you squeezed a hand around his cock. “Too much? You don’t wanna come yet, huh?”

Steve shook his head, hair falling into his eyes and his chest was heaving, his hands curling around your sides and he was pulling at your sweater, lifting it from your frame. “No, no— shit, not yet, please.”

You let him strip you, sweater discarded by his own shirt and your bare chest only made him swear a little more, eyes on your tits, your peaked nipples and suddenly he wanted nothing more than his cock between them. He felt drunk, delirious, suddenly too happy to care about how quickly he came.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he told you with a very serious expression. His hands travelled up, palms cupping your breasts, thumbs flicking over each nipple with careful precision. “M’gonna die and it’s gonna be because of you and your mouth and those tits and—” Steve choked on a laugh when you did, lashes fluttering as you took his cock back in your hand. “—and m’gonna be a very, very happy man.”

Grinning, you rolled your eyes at his declaration, as dramatic as they were. He was as hard as steel in your grip, his hips rolling up into your touch and didn’t want to wait much longer, his poor cheeks bright red with the exertion of holding back. So you gave him a kiss, light and sweet, too sweet for the current situation but it made Steve all the more wild. You were murmuring low and soft to him, holding his cock to your tits as you stroked him, words whispered between cute little pecks at his lips, his warm cheeks.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“You wanna come, handsome?”

“Mhmm.” A whine more than a word. “Please.”

“Where do you wanna come?”

A swear, guttural and hoarse. A twitch of his dick at the thought of his options. “Fuck, I— uh, I dunno.”

“Here?” You asked him sweetly, pushing his length between your breasts, rubbing your own nipple so he could watch it harden again. “All over here? Paint me nice ‘n pretty?”

Steve couldn’t form words now, which was exactly what you’d wanted.

Your mouth made its way to his ear, voice dropping lower than before. “My mouth?” You whispered. “D’you wanna come in my mouth, Stevie?”

A jerk of his hips, a whine and a grunt as his cock kicked up once more. He was so fucking close. Steve let his forehead fall to your shoulder, too hot and too helpless and too fucking desperate. He clung to you, hands wrapping around your bare waist and he didn’t know what he wanted more. He could sit back and watch you drop back down to your knees, pushing your pretty tits together as he jerked himself onto them, knowing he could watch the way he dripped down your body.

Or he could get you to open your mouth, pink tongue back out and waiting, you doe eyed and watching him. He always got dirty with that, asking you in the sweetest voice to let him see it all in your mouth, asking you to swallow it like a good girl before showing him your clean tongue after.

If Steve didn’t choose he was going to fucking explode.

So he tugged at your waist, gasping as he wrenched himself from you, falling back into the sofa. He took his aching cock in his own hand, pumping it once before squeezing tightly, willing away the need to come right there and then. He patted his knee, his eyes glassy and hooded as he looked at you.

“C’mere, baby, come sit.”

You did as told, happily, easily, willingly. Your own chest was thundering, excitement itching at your too warm skin because whatever Steve wanted you’d give him. Your thighs were slick, underwear sticking to your folds in the most obscene way because Steve’s sounds were too much to cope with without being touched too. He looked a riot, the prettiest kind. His hair mussed and cheeks flushed, lips pink and slick from your kisses, his eyes a little wild.

He helped you onto his lap, legs spread over his knees and his dick standing hard and to attention between you both. You waited patiently for his instructions, to hear what he wanted from you and Steve let his head fall back onto the cushions once more as he watched you from hooded lids. His jaw was flexing with each stroke he gave himself, hazy gaze roaming over your tits, your stomach and then lower.

And then—

“Lemme see you, baby?”

Your stomach flipped. A sweet voice, a prettily asked question, some filthy words. You smiled at Steve, lips twisting to hide your absolute glee because you knew what wanted, what he wanted to do and you were more than happy to give it to him.

You didn’t say anything as you hooked your fingers into the crotch of your underwear, gasping a little at how wet they actually were. You tugged them aside, white cotton stretched over your skin as you held the material away from yourself. With your spread thighs, you let Steve have the filthiest view, all glistening skin, a swollen clit between wet folds. You didn’t look down, you didn’t have to. You could hear the slick, fast sounds of Steve fucking his own fist, his frantic, hitched breaths.

“That’s it, yeah,” he sounded gone, drunk. “So good—”

Instead you watched him watch you, his eyes set on your pussy, gaze on fire as he enjoyed the show and when you swept your fingers over the centre of your folds, Steve swore, his free hand on your thigh clutching you tighter.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured, his teeth catching his bottom lip. He was close, you knew he was. “Such a pretty pussy, Jesus Christ, can’t believe I was gonna come without gettin’ to see her.”

You hummed, all delight and amusement. You cocked a brow even though Steve was still staring at your spread legs. “I’m dirty?” You cooed. “You’re the one who’s gonna come all over my cu—”

And he did.

Steve came with your name on his tongue, making it sound like the dirtiest, holiest thing you’d ever heard. He was gasping, choked sounds leaving his pretty lips as he fucked his fist, come spilling over his knuckles and onto your folds, leaving you and your underwear even stickier than before. His head fell back onto the sofa as he caught his breath, an impossible thing with his heaving chest but you curled into him almost immediately.

You let go of your stretched out underwear, your own breath hitching when you felt the warm, stickiness cling to your cunt. Steve pulled at you as you moved closer, your hands soothing over his jaw and cheeks, thumbs rubbing over his flushed skin as he kissed you, head lifting lazily, moaning at your touch, your lips, the feel of your bare stomach pressing his half hard cock to his own.

He was sticky with it all, with sweat, his own release, your affection and touch.

It was too much and entirely not enough, not of you.

Steve’s lips clicked as he pulled them away from your own, albeit grudgingly. You tasted sweet, like strawberry lipgloss and him. He was still panting when he spoke, his messy hand held away from you as he took your chin in his other. His thumb pulled at your bottom lip, swollen from all your efforts and he watched the way it popped back into place, making you smile.

“M’gonna finish my whisky,” he mumbled softly, eyes searching yours. He was met with excitement, knowing, a whole lot of adoration and fondness that he felt for you too. “You’re gonna check my pulse—” you laughed, too bright and joyous for the gloomy light of the room. Steve grinned, cheeks aching. “And then we’re gonna go upstairs and I’m gonna return the favour.”

[everlastlady]

Husk Boyfriend Headcanons.

✦- Author's Note: I'm still trying to upload 400 Hazbin Hotel Icons on Pinterest. And those 400 Icons are just from episode one of Hazbin Hotel and Pinterest has an upload limit so I hit that upload limit for the second time today, so until I can upload the rest of the icons, I decided to post the Husk boyfriend hcs. Husk is my favorite character from the show; it's an absolute delight that David Keith is voicing him since David Keith was important in my childhood and he's my favorite voice actor, so him voicing Husk makes me love the character even more. Also update! I have medicine for anxiety and medicine for sleeping finally, so I'll be adjusting my schedule, I'm sorry that I didn't update Bloody Legend but I will soon, I promise my little roses. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✦- Important: Reader is gender neutral, Protective Husk, Husk can sometimes be an ass, Reader is a singer at the hotel, & Just Cuteness.

✸- Husk was a loving and caring boyfriend. But sometimes he can be an ass from time to time. But at the end of the day you know that your fluffy boyfriend can be a sweetheart. He loves it when you sit at the bar while he's drinking or serving drinks. He'll listen to you talk about your day or songs that you have been writing. When he's talking about his day or people that pissed him off, you'll listen. The bar is likely where you two are mostly seen when it's not your rooms or the streets of Hell. Husk isn't afraid to tell other guests to fuck off if they come up and try to flirt with you. And you aren't scared to do the same if people try to hit on Husk or disrespect him if he refuses to serve them another drink.

✸- When it comes to laying in bed, Husk doesn't mind being the big or little spoon. But he very much prefers being the big spoon. He likes it when you run your fingers through his fur or use his fluffy chest as a pillow. It's hard for him not to let out little purrs because of how you play or stroke your fingers through his fur. He'll rub gentle circles on your back or hips. He'll watch a nice movie or show with you. Maybe even rock you to sleep, he'll whisper sweet nothings into your ear and tell you how much you mean to him. He'll place kisses along your face and cover you up a bit when you finally fall asleep, don't worry he's not going anywhere because he'll fall asleep next to you.

✹- You're both losers! You and Husk both know that you are losers. You both need through painful things when alive and when in Hell. Maybe you are both still dealing with painful things but you both know that at the end of the day. You have each other and can yourselves around one another. That nothing will stop you both from living through the shit streets of Hell. To never be scared to express oneself or speak your mind.

✹- You find it fascinating that Husk was once an Overlord. You ask him so many questions and he'll happily answer all of them. When you ask him if he ever had a chance to go back to being an Overlord would he? And his answer is always no because he isn't sure if the happiness he had as an Overlord was truly real happiness. He doesn't want to be an Overlord but he also doesn't want to be on Alastor's leash. But you promised to find a way to free him from Alastor one day.

✸- Husk favorite thing to do with you is taking you on a romantic dinner then having a night stroll in the park. Hand in hand the two of you will walk and Husk will sing a song to you. He'll pick a flower and had it to you. Tell you how grateful he is to have such a beautiful and special demon in his life.

[mothmanavenue]

In conjuntion with this art piece here

...

The war doesn’t end with a crash or a bang. Nothing explodes in a fiery shower the way he’d read about in books as a kid. There's no rocking of the ground as the world shifts under their feet, and a curling anxiety in his gut as he desperately reaches out in the link for a glimmer of one just one of his teammates, his family, his lover.

There’s just the dead drop of a falling lion as a ceasefire is called. It’s just the feeling of his fingers relaxing from a white knuckled grip on Red’s controls and his head falling back with a dull thud against the headrest of the pilot’s chair. It’s the unwinding of his spine as he slumps, all his strength and exhaustion collapsing in on him as he surrenders flight back to his lion, her battle roar softening to a gentle rumble in the back of his mind. It’s the gasps of relief and whispered gratitude of his family echoing in his ears, letting him know they’re safe, they’ve made it, it’s finally done.

Keith is completely unsurprised to note which one he prefers. 

Red’s purr is a constant source of comfort in his mind as he curls his legs toward his chest, eyes squinted in lazy, bone deep weariness, brain barely processing Shiro and Allura from their respective command stations outlining the conditions of ceasefire. He can barely think about anything outside the cramping in his fingers and the bleariness of his eyes from entire successive days spent raising Voltron’s sword, pouring his energy and willpower into convincing the strongest weapons in the universe to bend to his will.  

It’s ok if he misses something. The team will catch him up. They always have, when the tiredness consumes him, and he checks out of conversations and discussion, slumping against the nearest comforting shoulder. 

Allura’s voice is as sharp and clear as the crown that adorns her head; the queen of Altea in all her glory commands her troops from the midst of battle. Keith’s attention had been laser focused on ensuring Voltron’s continued presence, but nothing in the world could keep him from watching for Allura’s flashing blue light as she approached Haggar, now withered and raging, and knelt in front of her. Keith missed what was said, the words exchanged. But he saw the tightening of his Queen, his sister’s, shoulders, and the hand wrapping tight around the witch’s neck. 

It’s been a long eight days on this earth of his.

His brain clocks out in that moment, and he rides the warm haze he’s in, letting the satisfaction of success settle into his bones. It’s not time for celebration just yet. It will come later once the dead is counted and the shrouds are laid. Keith knows better than most the toll of war, and he dreads the time that will come when the lists of the dead will be handed to them, and he will need hours, days, weeks, to grieve people he did and didn’t know and names he’s cherished and ones he’s never heard, and each loss will still hit like a blow to the ribs. After that, the celebration will come. The ballrooms of the castle will glow with life and Hunk will dress in gold, Shiro’s white hair will gleam in the light, and Pidge will protest that she just won a war, she deserves a drink. Allura will stand regal at their side, and her shoulders will be light, free from the burden of an avenger, and she will turn to them with a gleaming grin and they won’t have any choice but to smile back at her. 

And lance.

Lance will be so handsome in his blue suit, golden and silver threaded in painstaking embroidery in the bed of deep sky. His hair will fall loose and natural in his eyes, heavenly blues, and earthy brown under the string set of his eyebrows, and he’ll gleam like a freshly lit candle. 

He’ll take Keith’s breath away and Keith will never want it back. 

But that comes after.

Right now, here, Red lands on dusty earth and grumbles in his head about doing all the work. He’s sure none of the other lions give their other halves this much shit. He loves her so fiercely it burns his throat and eyes. He can’t believe he ever spent a day outside of her. Can’t believe he wasn’t raised alongside this wonderful, temperamental, protective, grouchy cat, who bossed him and fussed him, and purred and cooed when he screamed in his dreams. Can’t believe there ever was a time he resigned himself to not having this. What a fool he was. 

The wave of emotion fills the cockpit in a lilting hum, and she lights up around him, Voltron blue piercing through the chunks in his armour. Red is as alive as a blaze and warm as a hearth in his head. 

Her mouth drops open with one final swell of affection, as she releases her paladin to his home ground. 

Keith murmurs a breathy thank you i love you you’re everything to me, as he stumbles out, hand grasping the cool metal as he comes to a rest on the shifting sands. The sand is warm from fire and fighting and it hits him all at one.

He crouches down, head hanging as he pants and gasps for breath. The emotion of the past few days shutter his eyesight till all he sees in the grains of sand sticking to his gauntlets. His head spins and his hair is falling out of the ponytail he’d tied it back in, and his breath is coming hard now. 

Something is missing. Somethings not quite right.

The swords have fallen, the helmets tossed to the side, red looms protective behind him. The shields are down the guards are dropped and he can feel the press of the Voltron bond that lets him know his team is landing nearby, drawn together with a gravitational pull.

He draws in breath, cool and refreshing and tinged with the scent of burning. Around him the sand is interspersed with freshly formed glass. 

He raises his head, expecting to see the heavens above him. He wants to take in the freshly healed scar of the newly collapsed Rigel star system. Wants to know how the blazing lights of thousands of planets worth of warfare look set against the familiar earth sky. He think he might look at the constellations, like he did not far from here a hundred years ago, tucked into his dad's strong, solid arms, the scratch of a stubbly chin accompanying a moving mouth as it named Orion, Cassiopeia, Gemini. 

He looks up expecting to see stars, and instead, he sees the sun.

Lance's smile is crooked, and his breath comes fast, like he ran, as he hovers over him. Their faces are so close he can count each individual freckle on this boy’s face, as precious to him as the gleam of moonlight cutting paths across the castle hallways. Oh this boy, this absolute death of him. 

“Hey lover,” the words leave Lance’s mouth with ease and anticipation, years of pent-up adoration spilling out with every vowel, “we did it.”

Keith feels his own smile steal across his face, “yeah, we did.” 

If possible, Lance's smile grows wider, crinkling the already forming smile lines at his eyes. Keith thinks of the products that line the counter of his bathroom sink, just waiting for a pretty bronzed hand to pick them up when the separation hits, and their resolves are softened by the press of late hours and long silence. 

A silly waste. Keith likes this look on Lance.

Aging.

What a wonderful thing he never thought he’d get to have. 

“You know what that means?” 

Lance's voice is smooth, the tremble that only a practiced ear could pick out masked by the sincerity and anticipation that has dogged their every conversation since that night on the dais. 

“We’ll wait.”

“Until when, Keith?”

“Until it’s done. When it’s done then we can have this. We can’t lose everyone for each other.”

“I’m yours?”

“When it’s done then. And when it’s done, I’m bringing you home with me. I’m putting a ring on your finger and I’m never letting you go. You’re it for me, Keith.”

“I’m not asking you to wait, that’s not fair-“

“I followed you into space Keith. I followed you to the point of no return. You aren’t asking me anything and that’s a damn shame. I’d give you anything you asked for.”

“When it’s done lance, when it’s done, I’ll ask you anything you want me to. I’ll come home with you, I’ll share a bed with you. I’ll be yours as long as you’ll have me.”

“Don’t joke, honey,”

“I’m not. You’re mine, lance”

“And-“

“you’re mine.”

The words reverberate in his head, and oh. This is what it was. The smooth slot of this thing that’s been so long coming.

Lance drops to his knees in front of him, one warm hand coming to rest on his cheek. Keith leans his head into it. He’s too tired for restraint, or shame, or any other useless emotion that would’ve held a younger him back. He’s got nothing to lose. He’s won. There’s no reason left to hold back. What a novel idea. It coats him and leaves him shivering at the feel of a gloved thumb running gently over his cheekbones.

His eyes fall back open from their unconscious close, and Lance is so close.

Honest, sweet, honourable lance. The sandpaper to all his rough edges. The iron that absorbed his burning heat. The shore that meets his rocking tide. 

Keith can hear the thunder of Pidge’s feet as they run across the uneven terrain. Hunk is following after her, his voice a cacophony of relief and joy. Shiro’s laughter is warm and thick as honey, coming easier than it has since aliens were a late-night story. Allura is giggling, high and bright, and a little hysterical. It’s ok. She’ll pull herself back together and they’ll be there to fill the cracks with liquid gold.

(Or glitter. She’d like glitter.)

Lance is watching him, and Keith’s eyes drift back to him. Lance hasn’t looked away in years. Something, some last resistance hidden away so deep he didn’t even know to search for a cure, falls away. 

He leans in and closes the gap.

...

posted on ao3 here

[little-sleepy-owl]

ℍ𝕦𝕤𝕜 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣,

who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. mostly gender neutral, but there's one use of "girl/boy", coz I couldn't come up with the alternative that would fit my vision.

damn, I didn't expect I will have so much fun writing this one. for all Husker lovers out there. hope this is good <3.

warnings: not explicitly, but still smutty, daddy kink mention (have you heard Keith David's voice? there is NO way I would ignore this opportunity), biting mention.

well, he didn't expect that.

forgive him if he laughs. “really, you died a virgin? how old were you, fifteen?”

actually curious how this even happened. were you never attracted to anyone that way? or was no-one attracted to you? if so, those people were blind.

somewhat surprised you want him to be your first. are you really sure? isn't there a better candidate?

well, he is not gonna reject the offer.

he's an old-fashioned man. he might look like someone who would just drag you to his room to do the deeds, but in truth, this fellow is a hopeless romantic.

you will get a proper date. not exactly a fancy one, but very thoughtful and sweet.

a table for two right in the Hotel, some lit candles, all other patrons and staff chased away for the evening. he will dress especially nicely for you and even prepare dinner.

(it's actually ordered, but you don't need to know that.)

quiet music, slow dancing. chaste compliments, but his voice is so deep and low, tickling your ear lightly, it still feels kinda suggestive. oh, he's very smooth when he wants to be.

his hands start to wander quite quickly tho. but can you blame him? the man can only have that much patience, and it's not like you both are not aware of what it is all leading to.

just remind him to retrieve into the bedroom, or else he might go on you right at the same table you both dinned on. unless that's what you want, of course.

a king of foreplay.

he takes things slow. madly so. it's almost like he's lazy. his hands move leisurely over your heated skin, and it takes so much time for his hot, wet kisses to go down the side of your jaw and cross your neck to finally reach your collarbones.

he purrs. you don't even have to touch him, he just marvels so much when he touches you, it gets him purring non-stop.

but also, try gently caressing the base of the wings. I assure you, you've never heard those noises from him before.

he doesn't talk much, but when he does… you can't help but blush to the tips of your ears.

hot breath, voice hoarse, a quiet praise, a small chuckle. doll, babe, sweetheart, good girl/boy.

if you respond well to the last one, expect him to use the “daddy” card, too.

don't think he will do all the work. quite the opposite, actually. he will lay down and make you strangle his hips with a sly smirk on his lips.

“don't you want to choose your own pace now, hun?”

truly the lazy cat.

oh, but don't worry. If you get tired, he will take his turn too. can't have you disappointed on your first time after all.

this man has technique. he makes you feel so good so seemingly effortlessly, it's crazy.

will ask if you're okay with a bit of a biting. it's really hard to resist for him, especially on the verge of climax.

mind you, he's not finishing before you do. maybe even before you do twice.

nope, no afterglow cuddles until you drink some water and at least have a towel to get a bit cleaner. after that, he's all yours.

covers you with his wings, while tackling you close to him.

initiates a lil’ talk about everything. did you like it? was there something you'd rather him not do?

he's not insecure, he just wants to communicate properly and prefers doing it as soon as possible.

everything's fine? good.

now you know he's purring when he sleeps cuddling with someone. what a cute kitty.

[weezmancer3]

Galran Keith hcs

I like to think that as Galran's genetics get diluted, the animal they correspond with just gets smaller. Like, since Keith is only half-galra, he has behaviors similar to a bobcat while Krolia and Kolivan have big cat traits.

Like, bobcats are awesome at climbing so Keith is always on top of things he shouldn't be on top of. Also, they don't roar, they scream/yowl, and hiss. AND, unlike big cats, bobcats can purr! Keith has definitely been on a mission with the blades where he gets frustrated and just...yowls. And it makes so much sense for him to hiss when Lance starts getting on his nerves.

His galran traits freak out the paladins/alteans a bit (save for Shiro, he's seen worse) but the blades think they're adorable. Bc, imagine you're Kolivan (completely galran/big cat traits) and there's this scrawny new kid who hisses when he gets pissed.

That's it for now, I love galran Keith. <333

[bleh1bleh2]

I'm thinking about keith and how he grew up as a mixed kid but didnt know he was mixed. But there has to be Some things he did that was more galra

So like. As he grew up his hair got a bit of a purple twinge to it (not super noticeable, but definitely there). He gets very slight fangs. I think purring/growling is so fun in concept (but before voltron the last time he purred was probably around shiro. If not that than his dad. Keith growling is more common)

Also i feel like his dad would have taught him some galra shit he learned from krolia and when keith went to school everyone was so confused about some of this little boys interactions

Anyways voltron time now. Pidge and hunk are like "guys. I swear i heard keith purr. This is crazy" and lance is like "yeah? He growls too. This isnt news." Bc he pays so much attention to his rival 24/7

And when keith joins the blade he sees them do the some of the same shit that he did as a little kid and hes like "oh. It was galra traditions. Thats cool"

[catsbeaversandducks]

Purr Against the Machine

Photo by Keith the Cat-Cow -  Via r/scrungycats

[bagerfluff]

50% Galra, 100% Stunning

Keith Kogane x Non-Binary Reader

Prompt - "You're Stunning"

You furrowed your brows as you walked around the castle looking for your boyfriend. This was the third time this week that he ran off after dinner. You wondered if everything was okay.

Keith had been separating himself from the team ever since he found out he was Galra. You didn’t care though. You still saw him as Keith, the hothead, mullet, lone wolf Keith. But you wondered if Keith was okay. Allura hadn’t reacted the best when she found out. 

You guessed that was expected. The Galra had killed her entire race, her father. But that didn’t mean she could be mad at Keith forever. He was only part Galra. He wasn’t even purple like the rest to them.

And he didn’t have weird ears. Or fur. Keith was still Keith, even if he had Galra blood. But You assumed that Keith needed to be reminded of that. So you spent a few vargas trying to find him. And so far, you had not been able to find him. 

You had checked his room, but all you found was an empty bed. you had checked that training deck. Always a smart choice to look when looking for the hot head. But you didn’t find anything there. Not even evidence that someone was there.

So now you were lying in your bed trying to think where Keith might be. You had spent a couple of doboshes thinking before you shot up from your bed.

The red lion’s hanger! It was the only place that you hadn’t checked and the last place that Keith could be. You quickly left your room and started running to the lion's hanger. Once you got there, the doors opened, and you walked inside.

Once inside, you could see that the red lion was curled up in the middle of the room. But no Keith. you looked around the room once before moving closer to the lion. Once you got close enough, you could hear the red lion purr.

“It's okay girl” you spoke calmly, but once you walked around the head, your eyes widened. There, curled up against the lion’s stomach, was Keith. Though he looked a little different. He still had his gloves and classic red jacket.

But he looked more Galra. His skin and hair were purple, but his hair looked fluffier. He also has ears on the side of his head. They looked like dog ears, but purple and fluffy. When you got closer Keith’s head shot up.

It was then that you realized that his eyes were yellow. Not just his pupils. All of his eyes. Keith also had claws. Sharp claws that lay and the end of his fingers. You also noticed that Keith had tears in his eyes.

“W-why a-are y-you h-here?” Keith asked. “Because you left after dinner, and I wanted to make sure you were okay” You said as he walked closer to Keith. You sat down next to Keith and looked at him.

So maybe Keith was purple and had weird ears and fur. But Y/n still didn’t care. But it looked like Keith did. “B-but w–why?” Keith asked as he looked up at you. When You looked over to Keith, your heart broke into a million pieces.

Keith’s eyes were filled with sorrow and fear. Like he expects you to hate him. “Because I love you” you said as he reached over to take Keith’s hand. Keith flinched before letting you take his hand.

“B-but I l-look like t-this” Keith stated while gesturing to his body with his other hand. Your heart might have broken even more at that.

“I l-look l-like Galra,” you stared at Keith for a while before moving his other hand under Keith’s chin so he could make Keith look at him. “You’re stunning” you said as you moved your hand from Keith’s chin to his cheek. Wiping Keith’s tears off his face.

Keith showed a small smile before you brought him into a hug. Keith then hugged you back as he tightened his grip on him. You brought your hand to Keith’s hair and played with it.

Maybe you guys should wait before telling the team Keith could do this. But you would be by Keith’s side the whole time. Because You loved your boyfriend.

Even when he was purple. 

[electricsynthesis]

keith galraisms post

physical characteristics

-his hair grows like 3 times as fast as a normal persons. it grows unusually thick and weirdly layered and textured. i imagine it having a texture that isnt curly or wavy or straight, but is sort of coarse and pointed. dense hair. this is why he has a weird mullet. he cuts it and then he wakes up a week later and the mullets back. i reblogged a post with this exact hc like 2 days ago but i stg ive had this opinion for years

-somewhere around 19-20~ his canines fall out. literally like humans' teeth do with baby teeth. they get wiggly and then fall out. and then he grows extremely pointed fangs in their spot. when he tells coran this, coran explains that this is common in galra to lose their milk canines and grow adult fangs. lance compares it to wisdom teeth and keith gets annoyed

-on a similar note, the reason keith has a full set of teeth despite being a troglodyte child who beats people up when pissed off is because he just grows his teeth back once theyre knocked out. this didnt happen with his baby teeth but once his adult teeth grew in, he would just. Grow new teeth. this unsettles him deeply everytime he thinks about it because humans are born with both sets of teeth. how is he doing this .

-he can see in the dark

-he has prey animal hearing. his ears perk up when he hears sharp distant sounds

-obviously i think he growls when hes pissed and purrs when hes happy. Who do you take me for. i do think this is one of those things keith assumed was normal until he was older and someone he was fighting made fun of him for "growling like a dog". i think, pretty vitally, he does not sound like a human growling andor purring. i think he sounds like a cat. he also hisses but texas kogane trained him out of that as a kid. as an adult (post galra-heritage arc) he sometimes does it anyway. connecting with his inner child <3

-more generally i think his voice toes the razor's edge of sounding like a normal human's. i think it lowers to registers and heightens to heights that sound only just like a human could make that sound

-his ears have always been pointed enough to be noticeable (texas kogane had him trained to keep his hair relatively long so it would cover them) but they only get pointier the older he gets. they never stick out or anything but one day in their twenties allura sees them and is like hey! youre like a baby altean! and keith doesnt live this observation down for the entire rest of his life

-his stupid purple eyes are canon and go without saying. and the whole "go yellow and slitted when hes pissed" is also canon and goes without saying. im bringing this up because in home again's 'verse, by the time the events of the fic are happening the only people whos actually seen this happen are lance and shiro, because keith got a little upset at some enemy combatants on a mission with them once, and when they told him he was like. what the fuck are you talking about. fuck no. you imagined that. and they swear UP AND FUCKING DOWN that no, keith, your eyes literally turned yellow. they went slitted. we didnt imagine it that really happened--

behaviors

-he bites people. in all contexts. violent. affectionate. sexual. if left unsupervised he will bite hard enough to draw blood so if its a lovebite you have to slap him away. unless youre into that i guess. this is one of those things he didnt notice until adulthood and he sat there like. head in hands. why is me being galra so fucking obvious in hindsight

-whether or not keith's temper and violent tendencies are the result of a childhood of violent bullying and general social neglect or if theres a genetic factor is entirely conjecture and everyone has a different, private opinion on the subject (keith's opinion is that it doesnt really matter), but its generally agreed on that his ability to power through lifethreatening injuries on pure adrenaline is a Galra Thing

-climbs trees like a spider monkey. generally likes being in places that are both high up and enclosed . if left to his own devices will start climbing around on shit. in the castle this is generally fun because theres big empty rooms that are entirely unused. but they all collectively realize this goes beyond castle exploration once they get back to earth and find keith on top of the fridge at 3 am. im talking completely relaxed while shoved as far in the upper corner of the room as he can possibly get

-hoards random shit he finds sentimental and keeps them shoved in various corners of his room. like a dragon. after they get together (sorry for sudden klance bias) lance is constantly accidentally finding his shit scattered around their room shoved into little corners. this is a love language to keith. hes hiding their beloved belongings in safe places. lance finds it EXTREMELY annoying because its early and he needs his moisturizer, keith, if its wrapped in my jacket underneath the bed again im gonna explode

the eternal question

-pidge: have you ever considered talking to a psychologist about you having autism keith: no. the orderly at the orphanage was convinced i was. but i'm obviously just galra. pidge: [exasperated silence]

[vldsideblog]

When Keith was a kid he made a lot of weird noises. (Galra shit) Like just straight up why is this human child growling right now. He quickly learned to mask it (one of the reasons he doesn’t like interacting with people very much) ,and only really does it around people he’s comfortable with.

Shiro and Adam kinda just got used to it and assumed it was some kinda vocal stim, Matt on the other hand was convinced he was some kind of Cryptid.

When he realized he was part Galra and started working with the blades he began learning what they meant

Like if he’s scared and out of it enough to not care, he’ll kinda whine or let out a high pitched keen.

If he’s sleepy or content he might basically purr, and if he’s annoyed at something he might hiss

He’ll start growling if he’s mad (it really freaks people out when he does it)

He also just hums and grumbles at stuff a lot instead of using words, partly because he’s not always super verbal, and partly because Galra often communicate general feelings and needs like that. Like instead of saying he’s hungry, he’ll just grumble at Shiro and Shiro has known him long enough to understand.

And if he’s trying to comfort someone he can make a kinda deeper purring noise that Galra tend to use to calm each other down, and say they’re safe.

I don’t know I’ve just always liked this headcannon.

[wonderdrive14]

Shiro loves it when Keith purrs 🥰

[weird-an]

Steve is so fucking exhausted.

He just wants to sleep. For weeks. Until next year, preferably. If another apocalypse happens, he isn't getting out of bed. Monsters, a breakup and no chance of a job where he doesn't have to wear a stupid uniform or listen to fucking Keith all day. He gets closer to accepting a job at Harrington's Steel Works every day and he sees himself already withering away in front of a printer.

It's after midnight, because Robin and him needed to check inventory of the video store and he's so done. Doesn't bother to switch on the lights, just strips and crawls underneath the blankets.

He sighs. The bed is so warm. Too warm.

"Bad day?" A voice next to him asks.

"What the fuck?" Steve switches on the light.

Billy grins at him. Blond curls a mess and he's wearing... he isn't wearing anything. Steve tries to keep looking him in his eyes and not at tanned abs and the fucking nipple piercing. Billy made the best noises when Steve played with the silver ring.

"The door was open."

It wasn't. Steve unlocked it, when he came in. Billy Hargrove is his personal curse. One hate fuck in a locker room and he's everywhere. What's even more terrible is that Steve's heart and dick jump at the same time when he sees him.

So Steve started to avoid him a week ago, apparently with rather meager results. This is the opposite of what he wanted to achieve. His racing pulse just didn't get the memo.

"What are you doing here?" Steve presses out, resisting the urge to hide his non existent modesty and growing hardon behind his hands.

"I wanna go again." Billy sits up, a dangerous shine in his eyes. Shows his teeth like he's about to bite. If he does, Steve has to bite back.

"It was a one time thing," Steve says. It was. Even though he wants to play with the piercing until Billy cries.

Billy leans over, on all fours, his breath ghosting over Steve's face. Minty fresh like he just brushed his teeth. Probably with Steve's toothbrush. What an asshole.

"You know you want to, Harrington," he purrs, chest vibrating.

He's desperate for it. The thought makes Steve's cock throb. Billy Hargrove in his bed, wanting more. More of him.

"I think you want it," he says. It's a rush, a high he hasn't known he needed. He has never been so awake before. "Coming here, all desperate for my dick."

Steve's fingers find the piercing. It's cold against his hand. He pulls it. Billy gasps, black pupils swallowing the blue ocean of his eyes.

"Say it," Steve demands. He always gets what he wants.

Billy swallows hard. "Fuck you," he growls.

"Try again." Steve clicks his tongue. Rubs Billy's nipple, watching Billy's tan getting slightly pink. Suddenly he doesn't want to ever sleep again.

[callmelyc]

Just gonna start cross posting every single bit of Twitter nonsense soooo

Lance joining Keith on blade missions post war and calling him "Captain" in the most flirty tone. He does this during meetings and such just to make Keith blush or stutter in his words.

The first time lance does this it catches Keith so far off guard his reaction isn't at all subtle.

"Excuse me, Captain~" Lance all but purrs the title in that lovely lilting tone of his and Keith damn near chokes on his own spit right in front of a room of BOM personel.

He clears his throat best he can trying to gather himself- because what the fuck- "y...yes Lance?"

"What if we went in teams of two? That way at least two people could tackle that northern section there."

Keith turns to look at the map, fluster momentarily forgotten, and sees Lance is right it would make more sense.

So plans are changed with unanimous agreement and things move on.

The flirtatious captain is forgotten until it happens again, this time in the halls.

Keith is talking to a commander for one of the resistance outpost when he feels a presence slide into his side so smooth and efficiently he nearly ignores it.

He knows it's lance, it always was, and he's more surprised by the fact Lance stays so silent.

It's not until the Commander, a man named Zyre, starts to comment on lack of trust that Lance speaks up before Keith can even get a word.

"Excuse me Commander but I can assure you Captain Kogane has it all under control" he says it with a charming smile that seems to ease all of Zyres worries.

Keith never knows how he managed it with such ease and simplicity, to calm someone's worries as if it's his living purpose.

He watches as the two talk, ending with a light laugh and a kind goodbye.

As the commander leaves Lance turns to look at him, blue eyes sparkling like the ocean "what's wrong Captain?" And there it is again that flirtatious sing song of his title that makes Keith gulp. A tanned hand smoothly slides up Keiths arm making his mouth run dry "cat got your tongue?"

Keith fights the flaming blush rising up his cheeks, he turns to rush away in place of a reply knowing it was far more incriminating thid way.

If he hears Lances twinkling laughter as he turns the corner Keith makes nothing of it.

The third time is, unfortunately for Keith, during a joint BOM and Atlas meeting.

Griffin was arguing the benefit of using some of his crew alongside one of the other branches of the resistance and it was draining Keith's patience to no end.

Sure they get along now, somewhat, but that didn't mean he found James particularly pleasant to listen to.

He drones on and on about the efficiency and things he'd already covered in his pitch but despite a good amount of the room being a tad annoyed no one seemed willing to stop him...yet

That's when Keith sees It, the look™ on Lances face and he knows oh God does he know.

Lance smiles when he notices he's caught Keiths eye and tosses him a knowing wink.

Keith fights everything in him not to groan as Lance shifts to cut Griffin off without even looking at the guy. Those blue eyes zeroing in on Keith from across the room with terrifying accuracy and focus.

"Captain Kogane" he says oh so sweetly it shuts everyone up in an instant. Lance even bats his lashes for extra effect because his new favorite thing to do is apparently publicly torture Keith.

"I-" Keith starts far too distracted to even notice the way some have started giggling at his demise. Too far gone for this boy that his loss for words is so heavy for something so small.

"You had a contact in that Sector didn't you? Why not utilize them?"

It's not until after the meeting that Keith realizes others have taken notice to Lances....well, whatever it is he's doing.

Keith tries to ignore the look, the whispers, the focus. He really does. But then Shiro has that shit eating grin on his face as he walks up next to him and Keith would rather be literally anywhere else.

"So Captain Kogane huh?" Shiro asks smugly.

Keith glares at him "shut it grandpa, he's just being respectful."

That makes shiro snort "yeah sure respectful is definitely the word for that."

Keith reserved to say nothing as they walked to the cafeteria and did his best to ignore every giggle and whisper thrown as he passes.

If he thought that was bad he wasn't ready for the way people mockingly called him Captain at lunch. They'd say it with that same flirty lit and over the top gestures that made his skin crawl. Its not in a mean way, he knows. It's more in the they were clearly mocking Lances tone kind of way and Keith found that unacceptable.

It irked him to no end. If they were gonna poke fun at him fine! But don't bring lance into it.

So Keith did the only rational thing left. He left the cafeteria.

He tracked down Lance because even if he was the cause of the teasing Lance was still far better company than anyone else on this god forsaken ship.

He found him in the ships artificial courtyard humming to himself as he played with the vines.

He sits next to Lance enjoying the simplicity of the moment since they usually don't get much time like this and returns the smile Lance throws his way. It's comforting when they're together like this. Just the two of them with no prying eyes or mission discussions.

"What brings you here Samurai? I would've thought you'd eat lunch with Shiro."

Keith huffs a bit "with everyone jokingly calling me Captain I'd rather sit somewhere relaxing."

Lance frowns "do...do you not like being called Captain?"

Keith looks at lance dumfounded, he's unable to reply before lance continues "should I stop?"

"NO!"

The two look at eachother wide eyed for a moment.

A beat pases.

Two.

Lances surprise fades into a small smirk, a dangerous understanding filling his eyes "oh so you do like it when I call you Captain?"

"I- well..." He stutters trying to fight the rising heat on his ears. Keith wouldn't dare admit it out loud he can't. He can't give lance a weapon like this, his heart wouldn't survive.

But despite the lack of voicing his agreement Lance picks up on it anyways. Those sharp eyes always on target, lazer focused, and amused much to Keiths dismay.

Lance chuckles standing to leave "well, I'll see you around then Captain~"

And Keith has never wanted to smack himself more for being such an oblivious idiot.