#voltron abo

The team had split up once they arrived at the abandoned Galran base, everyone taking a different level while Pidge stayed central to hack into their database. Lance had taken the top which was more like a series of interconnected catwalks than a floor. As a sniper, he was both familiar with heights and would be ready to provide backup if needed for Shiro who was just below him.

“Still not seeing anything, guys,” Lance moaned into his headset. “Are we sure this place wasn’t just like built, but then they ran out of budget and never moved in? Or maybe it wasn’t up to code. Black mold? Asbestos? Space cockroaches?”

“Do they have exterminators in space?” Hunk whispered, worriedly. “Can we call one? I can definitely see this level being infested.”

“Probably just zombies creeping up behind you to eat your brains,” Pidge chimed in happily, making Hunk gasp in fear.

Lance chuckled as Shiro scolded them. His eyes scanned the shadows around him, his bayard raised and at the ready as he strolled along past random pipes and wires.

Switching to a private line, Lance haled his boyfriend. “So, Shiro, if there really are space zombies, will you be the knight in shining armor to save me?”

Lance could practically see Shiro shaking his head as he sighed. “Concentrate, kitten. I’d rather not have to save you if you could fight them off yourself.”

“But it’s more fun when I get to be the beautiful damsel in distress,” Lance whined with a smile, pausing to lean on the railing to wait for Shiro to catch up. Because Shiro had to check additional hallways and doorways as they went along, Lance would often get ahead and have to wait for the alpha to catch up, but teasing Shiro always made the time pass more quickly.

“Well, you’re always beautiful, so we’ll just have to work on the distress, huh?” he heard Shiro chuckle through the line. “Or maybe you’d like to play up the damsel bit?”

“Mmm…” Lance hummed, his grin turning into a smirk as his voice dropped to a purr. “Are you asking me to wear that skirt again, Shiro? I’ll have to work on getting that slick stain out first.”

Shiro swore, letting out a strangled groan. “And this is why I can’t talk to you during missions. I’m shutting this down now before you start getting out of hand.”

Lance just giggled and gave a smooch as he switched back to the main line. The team’s chatter once again filled his ears as he deactivated his bayard. Placing his forearms on the railing, he tiredly rested his head on his arms, patiently waiting for Shiro to round the last corner.

Just as he caught sight of the black paladin’s armor, he heard and felt something drop down behind him. Lance immediately whipped around, raising his bayard in defense, but only got about half way before he felt a hand clamp down on the back of his neck.

As it squeezed, Lance’s heart filled with dread. His limbs became heavy and limp while his eyelids drooped, and his mind shut down. He was being scruffed, put into the ultimate state of submission for an omega where the body was forced into a state of complete relaxation and compliance.

He barely felt his bayard slip out of his hand, but he had just enough strength left to kick it as hard as he could towards the edge of the catwalk. He heard the distant clatter as it hit the floor below and knew that Shiro would at least know something was wrong.

[As his vision faded out, Lance could only hope his white knight would save him. ]

xXx

Lance felt the world come back slowly. His mind protested being awake, wanting to escape the uncomfortable feeling of cold metal on his back and the stench of posturing alphas in the air. But with his returning consciousness also came a sense of danger, a reminder that he had been captured and was now probably in a cell on some Galra ship halfway to Zarkon.

Finally, he opened his eyes, blinking in the harsh light for a moment before things came into focus, and his fears were confirmed. He was locked down in some nondescript room – three purple-tinged walls and a glowing purple forcefield to keep him in. They really needed to hire a new interior designer.

Slowly sitting up to rest his back against the wall, Lance’s head swam. Like adrenalin, when the hormones released by the scruffing left his system, he was left weak, tired, and dizzy. The fuzzy cotton that had filled his mind had been replaced by an echoey chamber-like feeling, his thoughts bouncing around like birds without a place to rest.

As he shifted, Lance felt something odd on the back of his neck. He brought his fingers up to the spot and found an oddly metallic sticker-like rectangle attached there. It was completely smooth but seemed too hard to be plastic. The edges almost seamlessly transitioned from metal to flesh, and Lance couldn’t make it budge when he tried to pick and scrape at it.

Was it a brand? Some sort of barcode? Or maybe like an insta-kill switch…

Lance didn’t have long to wonder as footsteps came echoing down the hall. As they got louder, the smell of alpha got stronger as well. Whoever was walking towards him was the head honcho on this ship, and he clearly liked to make that very obvious.

When two guards and a small, grumpy looking Galra stopped outside his cell, Lance wasn’t surprised. Lance knew the amount of pheromones this guy was pumping out was just a sign of insecurity. He’d also come across enough of these types on Earth to know that that feeling of incompetence meant they were often hot-headed and quick to attack – a possible advantage in battle.

Wow, Shiro was definitely beginning to rub off on him.

“Omega,” the Galra barked, his body straight and at attention.

Lance just rolled his eyes, giving him an unimpressed look. “Wow. You can smell. Congratulations.”

The alpha growled, his eyebrows drawing down in a scowl. “Know your place, omega. Or you will learn it very swiftly.”

“My place? Oh shoot. I thought it was back with Voltron, but I have a feeling you guys might have a different opinion on that,” Lance replied sarcastically, picking at his nails in false boredom. In reality, his body was tense, waiting for that moment he would cross the line and discover just how far he could push this guy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance saw one of the guards hand the leader something small and black. Just as Lance glanced up, a wave of pain ripped through his neck and flashed down his body, searing his limbs with white hot agony. A scream shredded his throat as he felt his body set on fire, every nerve raw and boiling.

It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to leave him reeling, his once scattered thoughts buzzing in his head, his limbs shaking, and his breath heavy pants. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to even twitch if it meant ever being in that type of pain again. Quiznack, he wasn’t going to make it through this.

“Do you understand now?” the leader spit at him, the sound harsh and grating in his throbbing ears. Or maybe it was just his whole body pulsing in echoed pain.

From where Lance had unconsciously slumped to the side in relief after being released from the agony, he saw the Galra raise his hand again. Immediately, Lance forced his mouth open, his vocal chords desperately working as he managed to mumble out a ‘yes.’

Lance could see the commander lower his arm again, a reluctant relief seeping through his body. He was so weak.

One of the background Galra finally spoke up. “That device on your neck was designed by our resident druids just for you. It takes advantage of the unique omega structure of your scent glands to administer whatever sensation we want – pain, fear, arousal, submission. Anything your body can feel, we can make a reality,” the Galra explained, a smug satisfaction in his voice.

Lance, on the other hand, could feel horror slowly taking over. He thought he was weak now? These sadists could literally make him feel however they wanted, and from the feeling of that little demonstration, he would have no way to fight it, the sensations powerful and overwhelming…

“The druids discovered that the specific hormones that run an omega’s body are stimulated in a certain way, the omega will be prompted to respond. Unlike betas and alphas, omegas accept these signals without a fight or any sort of backlash.”

Lance could see him walk to the biometric scanner to lower the forcefield. For a moment, Lance thought of trying to run, fighting back, proving he wasn’t to be messed with as a paladin of Voltron, but if this dickbag’s words were true, he wouldn’t get far. Would probably be better to just lay low and wait for an opportunity to remove the device or steal the remote.

Lance kept his eyes trained on the ground, allowing his fear to drive his reactions but not take over his body. Commander Assbucket crouched down in front of him with a cocky grin. “That’s right. Your sass won’t get you anywhere here. About time you wild omegas learned how to act. You’re only purpose is to look pretty and suck up our spunk.” The douche dick laughed. “What do you think about that?”

Before Lance even got a chance to open his mouth, the Galra had pushed a button on the remote. The next second, Lance’s mind was once again falling into that submissive fog of being scruffed but this time without the heavy exhaustion. It was more like he was drunk, his body light and floaty to go with the openness in his brain. When he moved his hand to his head, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion, syrupy and smooth.

From what felt like both far away and right beside him, an alphas voice requested his attention. Lance’s head swiveled towards the noise as his mouth broke out into a dreamy smile. The alpha grinned back, his scent thick in Lance’s nostrils. “Now you’ll repeat after me: omegas are stupid fuckholes meant for alphas to enjoy.”

“Omegas are stupid fuckholes meant for alphas to enjoy,” Lance happily slurred.

“And I am the biggest whore of them all.”

“And I am the biggest whore of them all.”

xXx

By the time they had finally tracked down Lance’s location, Shiro was ready to explode. His inner alpha was raging at the loss of its omega, its intended mate, the man that they loved. He should have paid attention better, not let himself get distracted, known Lance’s radio silence was trouble, and found the Galra far sooner. It was his duty to protect Lance, and he’d failed.

As they flew towards the target, the communicator was silent. Everyone was on edge, and Shiro couldn’t blame them. Their omega was the one to keep things light, cracking a joke or starting a play-fight to keep people out of their heads. Without him, they were serious to the point of fragility. One word could be the catalyst to cause them all to fall apart.

Shiro’s human hand twitched on the controls when the Galra ship came into sight. He was itching to slam down on the throttle, to race forward and take down their enemies in a wave of lasers before they even knew what to think. But that could get Lance killed, and so he had to be patient and rely on stealth like they had planned.

When they were finally close enough, Shiro broke the silence. “Allura and Hunk break off. Keith with me. Pidge, stay back until we’ve engaged.” There was a murmur of agreement as they all took their places.

It was time to save his omega.

xXx

Lance wasn’t sure how long he floated. He was only aware of time passing when an alpha gave him a command. In between, he’d let his mind drift away just enough to lose perception but not too far to lose awareness of the alphas.

He didn’t particularly remember what he had been told to do. Or maybe he just didn’t feel like concentrating that hard on pulling the memories to the surface. He knew he was sitting at the foot of the head alpha, his head resting on the alpha’s knees as the Galra slowly pet Lance’s hair. Vaguely, Lance felt the press of a silky material wrapping his body from his thighs to just below his chest as well as the cool feel of leather around his throat, but he didn’t give it more than a passing thought. He was simply content to sit there, look pretty, and do as the alphas commanded.

It wasn’t to last, though, as an alarm suddenly shattered the silence they’d wrapped themselves in. The alpha above him tensed, the hands in his hair tightening and pulling on their hold as he began barking orders. Lance was largely ignored, so he let himself drift off once more.

But when the doors at the other end of the room burst open, the head alpha leapt to his feet, forcefully shoving Lance to the side where his head smacked against the ground. A flash of pain broke through the fog, clearing his mind just slightly as his instincts warned of danger.

The jolt was just enough to bring Lance to the surface of awareness. Without moving from where he’d fallen, he glanced around in a daze, catching sight of what appeared to be a battle raging at the other end of the hall between the head alpha and another unfamiliar one. The guards seemed preoccupied fighting someone else, but Lance couldn’t quite see from his prone position on the floor. It didn’t matter, though, as the two alphas kept his attention. The new alpha was dressed in black and white armor with a mechanical attachment for an arm that seemed to double as a sword. The fighting was fierce, but the other alpha was clearly winning.

He seemed mad, his fists flying with a furious desperation as he bared his teeth in a show of aggression. His entire body was coiled tight like a spring ready to unleash his rage on his opponent in an awe-inspiring display of power and domination. There was no way the head alpha would be winning this fight.

“Lance!” the unknown alpha shouted, drawing the omega’s eyes. “Are you okay? Please get up!”

Was he supposed to obey this alpha? He didn’t see a reason why he shouldn’t. He was meant to obey all alpha commands, no questions asked.

So Lance raised his body off the ground to sit cross-legged on the floor, staring at the two alphas locked together in battle as he waited for another order. The head alpha snarled at his action, but Lance remained passive. A growl wasn’t a command.

Lance watched and waited as the other alpha beat the leader bloody. Finally, the man in the white armor held his glowing arm to the head alpha’s throat, declaring his victory and demanding the commander submit.

Instead, the fallen leader spit at the alpha on top of him. “Your paladin is under our control now. We give him orders, he obeys like a perfect omega slut–”

He broke off as the fighter whipped his fist across the Galra’s face and demanded in an enraged voice, “What did you do?!”

Instead of responding, the commander smiled and raised his voice to shout at Lance:

“Omega, do not listen to this alpha! I am the only one you will obey. And you will kill yourself!”

Lance barely had time to process the words when, without thinking, his hands came to pull the leather collar around his throat tight enough to cut off the flow of air into his body. A metal lock clicked into place, unable to be loosened even if he tried. It hurt, his neck feeling like a molding fruit being crushed in a fist, but he simply covered the collar with his hands to keep it protected. It was now his duty to die.

Even if a small part of his chest pulsed in pain. It was a different kind of hurt from the intense pressure around his neck, but it almost felt worse. Like his heart was rebelling against him.

“No!” the other alpha shouted desperately, catching Lance’s attention. The man had abandoned the leader and was running towards him. “Stop! Lance, stop!”

Lance watched, spots flashing across his vision, as the guy collapsed to his knees in front of Lance. The alpha raised his hands, seeming to hesitate, reluctant or unsure of where to touch him but soon had him around the wrists, gently yet firmly removing his hands to inspect the leather. 

“Keith!” he yelled without looking towards the other fighter. “I need your dagger right now!”

Some response, but Lance couldn’t hear it over the pounding of blood in his ears. He only saw a flash of something flying towards them and then the man had released one of his wrists to pick up the knife. 

A dull fear flashed through Lance’s body. He began fighting, his free arm pushing, slapping, and punching the man as he attempted to yank his other arm free. 

“Lance, kitten, whatever they did to you, you can fight it,” the man spoke, his eyes pleading but soft as he tried to subdue and soothe the omega. “You need to breathe. You need to live! For me, for us, for the team. Hunk, Pidge, Keith, Coran, Allura, your family. Everyone needs you to be around.”

The eyes were searching his face, but Lance didn’t stop. On the outside, he was one-minded, only concerned with getting away from the man threatening to stop him. None of that mattered. He would obey the leader over any other alpha.

Yet, the ache in his heart grew even worse. Tears started dripping down his face, but he didn’t know why. It had to be the pain, the pain, the pain, the pain…

When the alpha saw his tears, his expression became hard and angry. “Fight it! Damnit! You’re so strong! And you will not listen to that bastard! You’re my omega and mine alone!” he yelled, surging forward to claim Lance’s lips in a fierce kiss.

As soon as their mouths met, Lance shuddered at the extreme pain in his chest. The touch of the man’s lips against his own was warm and pleasurable, but his heart was going to burst from emotions he was desperately trying to push back down. He tried to pull away, to escape the agony of the onslaught of sensations, but the alpha held him tightly in place with a hand to the back of Lance’s head, a clatter as the dagger was dropped to the ground.

Lance could feel the man’s inner alpha taking over. The scent of alpha was hard, possessive, and dominant, worming its way into Lance’s mind even without breathing to send things spinning once again. He couldn’t remember why he had been fighting against this, only that there was pain, and there was the alpha. And he knew if he gave into the alpha, the pain would go away.

So he didn’t fight it any longer. His body relaxed as he let the alpha’s presence sweep him away, warm and pleasant in his submission. 

Unlike before, the sensation pulled his mind back from the fog and into an awareness of himself and his surroundings for just a moment. He remembered who he was, why he was here, and finally that he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen.

He grabbed the hilt of of the forgotten dagger and held it up to his neck. With what little strength he had left, he slid it under his collar and yanked it away, slicing the leather in two. As soon as it fell away, Lance was gasping, coughing, and choking to bring air into his lungs.

Immediately, Shiro snapped out of his alpha craze and pulled back with wide eyes to search Lance’s face. “Kitten?” he whispered hopefully.

Lance nodded, smiling wide, the tears still trickling down his face. His voice was ragged and scratchy. “Did I make a good damsel in distress then?”