Title: Unwanted Afterthoughts
Chapters: 1/1
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Ship: Keith/Lance
Characters: Keith, Lance, Original Character(s)
Tags: King Keith (Voltron), Alpha Keith, Concubine Lance (Voltron), Slave Lance, Omega Lance, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Omega Verse, slight age gap, And by Slight I mean 5 years, Mentions of Past sexual Abuse to Concubines, Attempted assassination, Kissing, confessions of feelings, Slow Burn in Fic Timeline but Not in Word Count
Summary:
Keith has been freshly crowned king after his adoptive father’s sudden and surprising death. Along with the title, power, and kingdom, he has also inherited the prior king’s concubines.
He honestly wants nothing to do with the said concubines. In full transparent truth, Keith is s part disgusted that the old man picked younger and younger mistresses throughout the years, but also, he just felt disgusted with the idea of it all.
He believed that hoarding the already rare and dwindling omegas into a locked harem was inhumane. That it was abusive. All around predatory. Disgusting behavior that he would not continue during his reign.
Which meant shoving the remaining concubines back to their homes.
Except one concubine in particular did not want to leave. That was how Keith became stuck with Lance. And perhaps Keith allowed Lance to stay in some turned about way to atone for the late emperor’s sins. For it was the fault of his predecessor that Lance no longer had a place to call home.
What Keith didn’t expect was to almost be assassinated by the said omega, or to even fall in love with him.
_________________________________
Couldn't get a certain tweet out of my head and wrote 10k in a day because of it.
Lance having to make a nest out of just one blanket because all the other pillows and blankets are being used by other omegas in their nests and Lance is too shy to ask anyone if there are any other blankets or if he can share their nests so he just curls up on his one thin blanket on the floor
.....
Why you gotta make me sad🥺
But yes that seems very in character, just Lance curled up on the thinnest blanket and being very sad because he does not have the right materials and no one else asked him to join their nests either🥺
Maybe Kevin finding him and knowing how it is to not know how to fit in, so the Dane takes his own nest apart and just rebuilds it around Lance while the lil floof is sleeping🥺 Kevin also some of the other Pack mates and when Lance wakes up, he's in the middle of a cuddle pile with Esteban curled in his side, Lando laying sprawled over his head and Kevin sitting on the edge of the nest, gently stroking his hair until Lance just smiles giddily and falls asleep again🥺
Thank you, Anon! ♥ Here's a sneak peak of the next chapter of my Keith/Lance A/B/O AU fic, "I Won't Say A Word (Unless You Make Me)".
Mind made, Lance resisted the urge to let out a resigned, exhausted sigh.
“Sure.” Though the smile was forced, Lance prayed it at least looked believable to everyone present, but especially to Allura and the royal family of Niamnä. “I’d be happy to assist you, Your Highness. But, if I may, may I request that someone else come with us? I am feeling a bit tired, so I’d really appreciate some extra help as well, please.”
The prince’s features pulled together into a pensive expression before yet another smile slid onto his face and he answered, “Very well, Paladin Lance, you may request one more to join us on our brief journey.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” As Lance risked a glance at Hunk, the beta seemed to read the situation and his intentions, and was just about to speak and suggest that he’d like to accompany them when another voice cut him off before he could even say a word.
“I’ll go.”
The familiar voice sent chills down the omega’s back, and though Lance managed not to flinch, he could feel his heart stutter in his chest in surprise when he noticed Keith taking a step forward, towards him.
When no immediate reply came forth from the prince, Lance hesitantly turned around, only to take note of the way the prince’s brow was pinched together as his narrowed eyes were locked on Keith. Something about the way Prince Yídrën was openly staring at Keith, with clear displeasure on his face, set a small tendril of fear down Lance’s back, and so the omega rushed to say something before anything bad could possibly happen.
“We should get going now, Prince Yídrën, please lead the way.”
That seemed to appease the prince, as his posture and features relaxed before he offered Lance a wide smile. “Very well, please follow me, I will show you where we must go.”
Lance had known very well what he was doing when he sidled up to the tall, handsome guy at the bar. He knew he often seemed oblivious, even preferred it that way, and it was definitely the facade he kept up when he bumped into the man, blinking up at him with his wide eyes full of surprise and his lips mumbling apologies.
But he knew the type of guy that man was, an unmated alpha with a scent that might have been irresistible to anyone else but Lance. He had known while making his way across the room that the guy would grunt at him first, annoyed but mostly unperturbed, before doing a quick double take and changing his posture, opening up, turning towards him.
Lance waved for the bartender and called out his order, slapped a few bills on the counter before looking back up at the stranger who was eyeing him like some especially delicious dessert.
"I already told you I'm sorry", Lance repeated, voice just a little too quiet in the noisy room, so quiet the man had to lean closer. A sharp grin flashed across handsome features, wide enough to be seen from the other side of the bar. Excellent.
"Don't worry about it, gorgeous. Pretty little thing like you can get up even more close and personal, if you’re interested..."
Lance gave a bashful laugh, lashes fluttering as his gaze flicked down, the perfect picture of a flustered omega as he reached up to rub at his neck. The touch so close to his scent glands was arousing, sending hot little shocks down his spine to pool low and simmering in his abdomen. He was careful not too turn too far, though. Careful not to show off the other side of his neck.
"Why don't you stay for a while, hm?" A broad hand reached out to tuck a strand of dark hair behind Lance's ear and he glanced up at the man who was even closer now, crowding against him, pushing him into the bar stool at his side. Lance swallowed hard, felt the hot simmer boil up into burning heat, a want for more that must have already seeped into his scent...
"I can smell how needy you are, princess. I could show you a good time..."
Before Lance could even begin searching for an answer that would stall just a little longer a pale hand landed on the guy's broad shoulder, settling down like a weight that wouldn't allow any excuses. Snarling the guy turned around, ready to defend what he already perceived as his omega, his playmate for the night, but when he completed the motion his expression fell.
Lance had always known what he was doing. He'd known when he bumped into the guy, when he'd played the coy little omega, when the arousal pooled hot and perfect in his abdomen and seeped into his scent for everyone close enough to smell. He'd always known about the reactions he would provoke but the actual, menacing glare on Shiro's face and the deep, rumbling growl as he confronted the man who dared to try and touch his mate, that was enough to set Lance ablaze.
"I would think about that if I were you", Shiro growled, fingers digging deep into the guy's shoulder, hard enough to make him wince. "That's my mate you're talking to."
For a second it seemed like the guy was about to protest, like he might just stand up and fight Shiro and Lance felt incredibly guilty for starting to get wet at the thought alone. But then he looked back at Lance one last time, eyes dragging up and down his lanky frame before turning back to Shiro, slowly raising his hands in a calming gesture.
Lance let out a relieved breath at the same time that his stomach churned in disappointment.
"Hey, I didn't know he was mated, I don't want any trouble."
"No, you don't", Shiro agreed, voice still low and dangerously even as he used his tight grip on the other man's shoulder to steer him away from the counter and give him a light shove. "Now leave."
The guy followed the low command without as much as a word of protest, stumbling away from them and not looking back as Shiro took his place at the bar, sliding close to Lance.
"You...", he rumbled, reaching out to wrap and arm around his mate's waist and pulling him close. The small gesture was enough to make Lance squirm with arousal.
He had always known what he was doing and now he got to reap what he'd sown.
"You did that on purpose..."
"No idea what you're talking about", Lance chirped, not quite mastering the innocent tone he'd been aiming for when Shiro looked at him like that, with a burning desire in his eyes and traces of residual anger in the set of his jaw. Lance would have felt bad if he weren't also vibrating with need and excitement. It wasn't his fault that his mate was this easy to rile up when he was close to his rut and a riled up Shiro was too good to not enjoy thoroughly.
So Lance twisted around until he could press the length of his back against Shiro's broad chest, moulding his body against the familiar shapes of Shiro's hard muscles. The touch was enough to set his skin on fire even though they were still separated by too many layers of clothing. When he wiggled his ass back against his mate's crotch he could feel the stirring hardness, the promise of his mate’s thick arousal enough to make him groan quietly.
Part II
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Smoke, Musk, and Jasmine - Omega!Lance Tucker X Alpha!Reader - Chapter 1
I have no idea where the idea for this fic came from. It just did. Who am I to deny the fanfiction muses?
It’s my first A/B/O, so feedback is super appreciated. Also my first non-Marvel.
Smut-free, but mentions of sex and lots more language than anything else I’ve written (it’s Lance Tucker, there’s only so much I can do).
Word count: 2465
Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, some definite thirsting
You groaned and gritted your teeth, hating your suppressants even as you were grateful for them. It was the middle of the first full day of your rut, and while the suppressants kept you functional, you still craved the sweet scent of an omega enough to make you wildly uncomfortable. Despite your currently over-alert sense of smell, however, there was no omega scent to be found thanks to the patches everyone wore.
The patches – another thing you both loathed and were thankful for. Thirty-some years ago, a beta scientist had said enough is enough when it came to people judging others for their orientations and created a patch that went over the scent gland and neutralized all pheromones, eliminating the normal way of determining a stranger’s orientation. You were part of the first and so far only generation that was born and grew up with the patch being mandatory for all orientations to participate in many job spheres (although not all; some jobs still had a distinct benefit to be had by having an alpha or omega orientation known). There were advantages for sure, in that no one’s orientation could be used against them to keep them from succeeding; from your observation, though, it had also made talking openly about orientations a taboo subject, which hurt everyone in the long run. Stereotypes still persisted, and “coming out” when one wasn’t in a field that was typically welcoming to one’s orientation could result in a serious backlash of hatred.
While the field of athletics held nothing against alphas – the opposite, in fact – you still kept your orientation a secret. If you came out, many people would assume you were naturally skilled and won as often as you did because you were an alpha, not because of all the time and hard work you had put into training and working on your routines. You were not about to give up the acknowledgment that you worked hard just for a little extra favor from coaches and sponsors.
With a deep breath, you forced your mind to focus and launched into your new balance beam routine. You were one of the top contenders for a spot on the next US women’s gymnastics team, and your coach was determined to push you as far as you could go. The beam was one of your strengths, so the new routine pushed your body and your mind further than any had before.
Your landing was a little shaky, but overall you thought you had done pretty well for only your second time running through the whole thing. Your fellow gymnast didn’t seem to think so.
Lance “The Fucker” Tucker was watching you and snickering. You sighed to yourself and forced your brain to listen to your coach’s feedback. Lance was a stuck-up jerk who was great at what he did and knew it. He never hesitated to criticize anyone who was less than absolutely perfect, and while you knew you were more than just good, your new routines were challenging and you didn’t quite have them down yet, providing him with plenty of fodder for torment.
“You know, Y/L/N,” he smirked, coming up to you once your coach told you to take a break, “it’s okay to admit you’re out of your league with your new routines. I’m sure your coach would understand if you needed something a bit easier.”
“Fuck off, Lance,” you sighed as you ripped open a protein bar. You were the only Olympic contender training at your uncle’s gym who hadn’t let him get under their skin yet, and he seemed to have made it his mission to change that. You weren’t about to give him that satisfaction.
“I know it can be hard to accept you’re that shitty at something you seem to enjoy,” he persisted, following you over to your gym bag where your water and a protein bar were waiting. “It’ll be better for you in the long run, though. You’ll avoid the inevitable mental breakdown and subsequent humiliation.”
“Tucker,” you turned to him, “not even you can do everything. Time to accept that intimidating me is on the list of things you’ll never succeed at.”
“I’ve still got some tricks up my sleeve,” he scoffed.
You cocked an eyebrow at his certainty and smirked. “What are you gonna do, take off your patch and go all alpha on me?”
“I might,” he glowered. “Don’t push it.”
If there were anyone you weren’t concerned about being out-alpha’d by, it was Lance Tucker. Cocky as he was, you were sure there was no way he wouldn’t let his alpha orientation be public knowledge if he were one. Most people seemed to think he was hiding it for the same reason you hid yours, but you were pretty sure you knew the truth: Lance Tucker was a beta and wouldn’t admit it. You couldn’t prove it, of course, but it did keep you from finding him intimidating. Even you had your orientation prejudices, it would seem.
Electing to ignore him, you finished your protein bar and went back to your balance beam. You caught a glimpse of Lance glowering at you from the corner of your eye and smiled as you went back to working on the individual parts of your routine. You wanted to have at least the first twenty seconds down smoothly before you left for the day.
----------
You groaned as the hot water hit your body, your sore muscles struggling to relax into the steam. Maybe you had overdone it today in practice. As much as you pretended to ignore him, you had worked twice as hard after Lance’s round of insults. Once he was done with his gymnastics career, he should try coaching; all his trainees would hate him, but his methods were annoyingly effective.
You took your time, lathering every inch of your body and letting the sweat and stress wash down the drain with the suds. As you relaxed, you ran your mind through your routine again and again, committing it to memory so you wouldn’t need to pause during Monday’s practice. You mentally traced your split leap’s transition through to your arabesque, noting form and how long each part should be held. Once you’d run your entire routine five times mentally, you shut off the water and toweled off.
It was Friday, which meant your uncle had taken your cousins out on one of their little “adventures,” as he called them. It was always your job on Friday to close down the gym, so you took your time getting dressed and putting away equipment.
When you were out of other things to do and couldn’t put it off any longer, you banged on the door to the men’s locker room. It was time for your least favorite part of the day – kicking out the straggler.
“Time’s up, Lance!” you shouted through the door. “You’d better be decent, because I’m coming in!” Pushing the door open, you were greeted by the familiar sight of Lance with his back to you at the row of sinks, working whatever he used that made it always look so perfect through his hair.
“You know, one of these days,” he smirked at you in the mirror, “you’re gonna walk in on me naked. Is that why you always come in? What are you looking for, Y/N? Is the little omega looking for the alpha experience?”
You scoffed at his smug look. “Not gonna happen, fucker, the two of us having sex or you finding out my orientation. Besides, not even you are that slow at getting dressed after practice, and that’s saying something. What do you do, stretch twice? I was the last one out of the women’s room and I got out half an hour ago.”
“So I like my privacy, big deal. I just don’t shower until the other guys have left.”
“Privacy is what the curtains on the shower stalls are for,” you told him with a glare. “Now get your shit together and get out before I throw you out on your ass.”
“Aw, Y/N, I didn’t know you cared,” he sassed back, but gathered his stuff anyway. “I do have to be going, though. Ice bath and dinner and whatnot. Takes a lot of work to remain the stunning physical specimen this body is.”
You rolled your eyes at him as he gestured up and down his body. “The only thing that’s stunning about you is the size of your ego.”
“It’s okay to admit you like what you see,” he smirked as he brushed past you uncomfortably closely. “See you tomorrow, baby doll.”
“I’m taking the weekend off.”
“Oooh, someone’s already cracking under the pressure. See you Monday, then.”
“Lucky me,” you said dryly. Lance replied by flashing you his middle finger as he exited the gym. You shook your head as you locked up, wondering how anyone could end up so arrogant as Lance Tucker.
----------
As wonderful a break as the weekend you took off had been, a welcome rest while you finished out your rut, Monday brought a new onslaught of intensity with your training and the discovery that your uncle would be out of town for the week, leaving you to close up the gym daily.
You paused outside the door to the men’s locker room. There was still equipment to put away, but you were curious. Your uncle had been the one to originally warn you that you would have to kick Lance out when you were ready to close, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he really only stayed late for you.
As silently as you could, you cracked the door open and slipped in. You could hear muttering from the locker area on the other side of the showers, Lance’s voice low as he grumbled to no one about, well, something you couldn’t hear. It would seem he stayed late every day after all.
Before you could slip back out (because seriously, maybe he wasn’t dressed yet and built like a god or not, you didn’t want to catch him naked) his voice grew louder.
“Fucking patch,” he complained, “needing fucking changed while I’m at the fucking gym. Can’t even last a decent length of time.” In the sudden silence of his voice halting, you held your breath and heard the sound of a patch being ripped off, followed by the sound of a new box of patches being opened. In the time it took him to get his next patch on, however, you caught it.
Sweet smoke and light musk and damn it, was that jasmine? It was the most alluring scent you’d ever caught and you dug your nails into your palms to keep from letting out the growl that was trying to work its way up from your chest.
Lance Tucker was an omega, and he smelled fucking good.
You forced yourself out of the million filthy fantasies that had sprung up in your mind when the muttering started again and used the sound as cover to slip back out. It took a few moments of deep breaths in the pheromone-free lobby to clear your head and calm your heart rate. That scent was going to stick in your memory for a long time.
A mental debate raged on as you put away the equipment that had been left out in the gym. You knew you shouldn’t tell him you knew; it should be his choice to tell anyone his orientation or not. But how were you supposed to act like nothing had changed with his scent burned deeply into your mind? Even thinking about it was making heat snake through your core.
It’s still Lance, you reminded yourself when you finally had to make your way back to the locker room. He’s still a jerk with an ego bigger than Texas. Nothing has changed.
Liar, your brain replied.
You clenched your jaw and banged on the locker room door as you always did. “You’d better be decent, Tucker, because I’m coming in!”
“Why, Y/N,” Lance said, poking his head around the corner of the locker area, “to what do I owe this pleasure? It’s usually your uncle kicking me out on Mondays. Finally get tired of waiting and want an alpha to fuck you sideways?”
The snort that left you was decidedly unladylike. The balls on this guy, to so blatantly bluff like that, had you choking back laughter. You didn’t even have to reply to his suggestion; your face was enough to tell Lance that you found the idea hilarious.
“Apparently not,” he muttered, shooting you a glare that had you holding back another round of giggles. “So what is it?”
“Uncle’s out of town,” you replied, reigning in your amusement. “You’re stuck with me kicking you out all week, unless you want to turn over a new leaf and actually leave in a reasonable time like a normal person.”
“Never let it be said that Lance Tucker was normal,” he smirked, shooting you another one of his cocky smiles.
No one who smells that fucking amazing could be normal, your hindbrain inputted. What you actually said, though, was, “Let a girl have her fantasies.”
Well, that was a mistake. Bag slung over his shoulder and hands in his tracksuit pockets, Lance came right up and stood inches away, his breath and yours mingling.
“You can fantasize about me all you want, baby doll,” he said, the corners of his mouth ticking up at your wide eyes.
Decent impression of an alpha growl, your helpful inner monologue kicked in. Wonder how long he practiced that. Your hindbrain was too busy trying to catch a whiff of his scent again to react – fucking patches – and it took all your willpower to not growl back and go full alpha on his fine omega ass.
“Careful what you wish for.” You really hadn’t meant to growl back, really you hadn’t. At least your hands were still by your sides instead of, well, anywhere on him.
Surprise flashed briefly across his face before the signature Tucker smirk returned.
“What do you know, little omega has practiced her alpha growl. Not bad.”
Better than yours, omega, you bit back. Damn, this was even harder than you were expecting.
“Get out, Tucker, before I throw you out on your ass.”
“Whatever you say, baby doll.” With a wink and a final smirk, he sauntered past you and out of the locker room.
Well. That probably could have gone worse. Forgetting about locking up for the moment, you went over to the sink and splashed some cold water on your face.
Training around Tucker had just gotten even harder.
Any A/B/O fics you like? I love the dynamic but I never really find a good one :(
A/B/O Has to be my favorite dynamic besides Prince Lance and Guard Keith AU’s. So, my dear friend, let me share with you my favorite A/B/O stories. I don’t know if you’re looking for A/B/O smut or not so Ill give you three smut and three nonsmut. As I was looking over my recommendations I realized most of these are Alpha Keith fics…. I’m not sorry.
Smut:
1) What Else Could a Virgin Omega Do? | By: The_Broken_Dreamer | Completed | 13,831 words | Explicit
Lance was standing where he never thought he’d be standing, in line at the front desk of the nearest Alpha Brothel.
Keith hated dancing, it was never his forte, so why Shiro was forcing him to attend the usual mating ball, he didn’t know. He would never find a mate with his moves, and he didn’t mind keeping it that way. Though seeing a lovely tall tanned man make his way across the dance floor just might be enough motivation for him to try and change how he feels about dancing to attract a mate. // thank you to my friends who helped me edit this and I hope you guys enjoy my first published work//
Notes:
This is actually probably one of my favorite A/B/O stories just because I like the concept of the whole dance for a mate thing? I don’t know I really like this story even with the small amount of smut it has.
3) Green Light | By: warschach | Completed | 74,790 words | Not Rated (But its explicit)
Keith’s good with trouble, he’s alpha and a skilled cop in Chicago’s Alpha Unit, so when shit hits south Keith can change it to north. If bad guys run Keith ropes them in. If bullets fly Keith is usually good at not being the target. Not the same for knives but- he knows how to handle trouble. So why the fuck can’t he handle one pretty omega with a chip on his shoulder and literal water for eyes?
Notes:
This is my favorite A/B/O and the first one that I read for the Voltron fandom. I think you’ll like this.
Nonsmut:
1) Nesting | By: DarkChaosX | Completed | 1,172 words | General Audiences
Lance paused, eyes roaming over the omega as he thought things over. “Are you sure?” he asked after some time. “I’m not an alpha.“Keith’s eyes softened at the statement. "I know.”
Notes:
Its just a cute one-shot of pure fluff and its adorable.
2) The Bar Scene | By: Oilux | Completed | 2,251 words | General Audiences
Lance was hanging out with friends when he noticed an omega being harassed, and what kind of alpha would he be if he didn’t help out?
Notes:
Cute meeting story.
3) Interested | By: MilkTeaMiku | Completed | 3,000 words | Teen & Up Audiences
Keith’s heat is approaching, which means he definitely needs to tell his alpha, Lance.
Notes:
Here’s a small domestic piece and one of the two Omega Keith stories I think I put on this list.
