Voltron Keith Jacket Novels & Stories

Because they think we're driving to our execution. The van smells of stale coffee and fear. I crouch in the back, rummaging through the tactical bags Silas left. I find a pair of black cargo pants and a heavy wool sweater. I pull them on, discarding the towel. Drakon is reloading. He’s filling every magazine we have. His movements are jerky, fueled by a rage so deep it’s vibrating the air around him. "Here," he says. He hands me a vest. It’s heavy. Kevlar plates.

He was dressed completely in black, his wide shoulders encased in a black leather jacket full of silver zippers and studs. Unlike the rest of the pack, Kothari's hair was cut short tapering in sharply at the nape of his neck though the front was longer, falling in a wide sweep across his forehead. He was as tall as his father and just as wide and his body language screamed out the need to be anywhere else but where he was. Kothari was pissed and he didn't care who knew it.

Without another word, he simply walked into the bathroom, and had the decency to shut the door. “Gosh, he is so big!” I muttered to myself as my cheeks burned. It wasn’t just about Keith’s cock! Keith had broad shoulders and muscular arms. His neck was thick, and his back was firm, just as his stomach was. His waist was slim, and his thighs were thick, firm, and heavy. Keith Von Quavo was like those gods in the movies that were sexy as hell. And I understood why Jackie was obsessed with him and wanted him all to herself.

"It looks like something Supreme Alpha Tronte forced you to wear for political display. Where are you in that metal coat, Stevens?" She's right. In the reflection, I look like a prisoner preparing for an execution. The second option is a plain, sleek ivory tunic with traditional trousers. Simple. Respectable. Forgettable. The third is a dramatic, flowing royal tunic crafted from spun starlight and dark silver silk, fitted tightly across the chest with a sweeping cape that mimics wolf fur. It makes me look powerful, like the ancient male Lunas who rode into battle alongside their mates. "That one has power," Katharina notes, leaning back in her seat. "Your body was built for the throne, Steve

"I think he its more because of his work as a doctor." When Keith gave his new wristwatches to Calvin, the older Lancester sibling cannot help but have a double look on his face. He feels like his younger brother was abducted and replaced by an unknown creature. Keith never gives anything unless there is a special occasion like their birthdays, Christmas, or anniversaries.

“So what if he’s a powerhouse in the Yuraeceon Daelm Rank’s Fifth Tribulation? He was still shocked by our Dragon General. “Refreshing, isn’t it? Please enjoy, Mr. Truett.” Hearing Quattro and Xzavion’s sarcastic remarks, Truett, who was wrapped in the colorful electricity, roared, “What is this? It’s absorbing my Genesis Powers. Please stop. Otherwise, I will fight back.” With an innocent expression, James said, “I don’t know how to stop it.” In dire straits, Truett clenched his fists. Then, a clear and bright Genesis Shield appeared on his physical body.

He’s been working with the Jefferson’s for so many years, starting as the house-keeper for Keith’s father and continuing to serve his only son faithfully after the death of his dad. Keith bit his lip while gently returning the telephone receiver and was glad that his newly employed P.A agreed to his offer to stay in an apartment at his mansion. Since the call came just as he was coming out from the bathroom, water from his hair was now dripping through his appropriately toned muscles and well outlined sexy abs which makes him look extraordinarily stunning. He hummed a tune as he got his hand dryer and dried his well-shampooed hair, then did his morning skincare routine, thereafter, went into

His easy grin helped, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off the Alpha by his side. Keith Harold was imposing in the most effortless way. He had dark hair, neatly combed back, and intense blue eyes that seemed to hold secrets I couldn’t begin to understand. His beard was meticulously trimmed, and there was an undeniable strength in his build, one that matched the power radiating from him. He couldn’t have been much older than twenty-eight or so, but the air of authority he carried left no doubt he was the Valkin Alpha of the West. I greeted him with a respectful nod, feeling my cheeks warm when he took my hand and pressed a polite kiss to it, his blue eyes catching mine for a brief moment. The man

The building sagged against itself, timber beams warped by time and neglect, windows dark except for the sickly yellow glow leaking from cracks in the shutters. Kael dismounted in one fluid motion, his boots hitting the mud with barely a sound despite his size. He was built like the warriors of old Dravenhart blood—broad across the shoulders, tall enough to look most men in the eye and down at the rest. His black riding coat, expensive but deliberately plain, shed water like scales. Beneath it, he wore the practical clothing of a wealthy merchant's guard, nothing that would mark him as royalty. The sword at his hip was good steel but unremarkable. *Unremarkable* was the goal tonight. His fat

he says, making me melt. “You got me more than one gift, Kaeden?” I ask and take both from him. I sit down on my bed after placing the frame on the bed and unwrap the big box. My eyes widened in shock! Inside is a set of clothes, a red and black baseball jacket with my name on it and the number eight on it. Setting it down, I pulled out two shirts, one black with Cyro’s name on it on the back and in front. It had an outline in light blue of a wolf, while the other shirt was a black and blue checked shirt. I pulled out a pair of plain black jeans and white sneakers that had a wolf printed on the outside of the left shoe and Cyro’s name on the other.