Voltron x Reader; Preferences and Oneshots

{Lance x Reader}; Birthday Soulmates

Character; Lance McClain

AU; Soulmate AU

Warnings/Should Knows;
•A tattoo representing your soulmate appears on your body when you turn eighteen
.-+*0*+-.

You were currently in a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the embarrassing and/or terrifying things that could find you in the upcoming morning. Or, in the upcoming minutes. Your mind pushed out the noise of your room's doors sliding open, allowing someone to enter as you snoozed.

"Y/NNN~" A male voice whispered, poking your shoulder, instantly waking you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you sat up with sharp speed, your arms in a strike-ready stance. Lance was seated at the edge of the bed, grinning innocently. So fake. You stared at him for a second, coming to realization, then groaned.

"Oh no..." You muttered, throwing your face back into the pillow behind you. But, to your dismay, he ripped the sheets off of your body and flung them across the room, knocking things off of your nightstand and desk on the opposite wall.

"If you don't want your Birthday to be celebrated, then you shouldn't have told me in the first place." Your crush added sassily, folding his arms and pouting at your behavior. You blushed at his thoughtfulness and consideration, even though you told him countless times that it wasn't something you wished to bring light to.

You told him every year since you were 12 that your Birthday wasn't a big deal, but he still got you a gift each {Birth Date}. Every single year.

"You dared me to!-"

"Potato, tomato. Not important. Now let's see the tattoo!" He smiled, clapping a bit to relinquish some excitement. At that moment, anyone would have bet money that you had turned to stone or something. The soulmate tattoo, the one that determined who you'd spend the rest of your life with...

Impatience was your downfall, something everyone knew about you, so you had snuck into your bathroom many hours ago to look at it already. The permanent print, which you found on your ankle, was a thread and needle wrapped around a red bayard.

Your soulmate was the tailor, the (current) Red Paladin himself,

Lance McClain.

His own tattoo was on his freckled shoulder, a {favorite weapon} on a {favorite color} background-like circle that appeared on his Birthday a month ago. You had always admired the weapon and it's unique abilities, but played it off as nothing when you saw his print. But now your theory was confirmed, and you were embarrassed beyond blushing and hiding.

Especially since you had liked him for nearly five years.

"M-Maybe later. Let me put on some socks and then we can go eat breakfast." You smiled fakely as you changed the subject, reaching over to grab the pair on the ground that had been knocked off your nightstand. They reached mid-calf, so you were covered. Literally.

"Actually, breakfast is in an hour, the gang got you some presents. Let's go!~" Lance beckoned, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out the doors. You were about to protest about the fact that you were, one, still in your pajamas, two, hungry as frick, and three, mad at him for telling everyone ELSE of your Birthday, but you just let out an annoyed whine and groan. "Lance...."