brandonsgame asked:
justpidgance answered:
I..
I’ve found the sweetest hc on this site.
Thank you I try. I just want my space daughter to be happy with her boy. Hahaha
…
Lance walked into the lounge area of the castle. He was sore, exhausted, and disheveled. Coran had kept him working on his close combat skills after the rest of the paladins had finished their training for the day, saying, “You can’t be our sharpshooter on every mission!”
Pidge was the only one there, curled up on a long sofa. Freshly showered, her face was scrubbed clean and pink. Damp hair fell down to her shoulders as she tapped away at her computer. At Lance’s approach, she glanced up, tucking a lock behind her ear. “Long day?” she sympathized.
Lance groaned as he collapsed on the couch, helmet tossed to the seat beside him. Head back and eyes closed, he muttered, “I feel like a weblum and klanmüirl took turns chewing on me.”
Pidge deliberated a moment, pushing her computer aside. “Come here.” she beckoned firmly. “I’ll help you relax.”
Lance shifted laboriously over from where he’d been removing his outermost pieces of armor, toppling gently to plant his head into Pidge’s lap. “What’re you gonna do to me, exactly?”
Pidge’s fingers had already started poking and prodding at the top of his neck, squeezing and stretching the sore muscles as her left hand stroked over his hair. “My mom used to stroke my hair. It calmed me down, helped me lose the tension.” Her fingers scritched softly through his hair, and the hand at the nape of his neck rubbed hard over a knot of muscle, making Lance groan, before brushing lightly over the downy, light hairs.
Lance was halfway asleep already. “Mm,” he groaned pleasurably, “Well… I’m all yours.”
Pidge’s cheeks flushed, and a squeak inadvertently escaped her lips. She clapped a hand to her mouth, reddening further as Lance rolled lazily over in her lap to look at her. “What,” he smirked, “blushing, Pigeon?”
Lance’s fingers were tracing over her bare legs, crossed under his cheek. She shivered, both hands combing through his hair, stroking and pulling at the soft fur. “Just go to sleep, sharpshooter,” she muttered, face still warm.
Pidge felt the vibration of his low laugh as Lance turned his face away from hers. “Gladly,” he murmured. He was asleep within moments.
But her fingers didn’t stop running through his hair just yet.
…




