Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12089733.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Yuri!!!_on_Ice_(Anime)
  Relationship:
      Michele_Crispino/Sara_Crispino
  Character:
      Sara_Crispino, Michele_Crispino
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Omega, Sara_is_an_alpha, michele_is_an_omega, they_get_stuck, their
      mom_comes_home, magical_secret_futanari_penis, Mommy_Issues
  Series:
      Part 3 of Atypical_Omegaverse
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-14 Words: 4108
****** Out of Place ******
by BoxWineConfessions
Summary
     Sara pulls down her panties as she fingers Michele. It’s a little
     unfair. Her body’s changing too, but so far it’s been all about her
     brother. Typical. She works her panties down around her hips and then
     pushes back the plaid fabric of her skirt. Her cock is different from
     Michele’s: longer and thicker. Around the base, the skin is flared
     outward already. The sight makes her giggle. She’s going to have so
     much fun teasing all the larger alpha males at school.
Something wasn’t right; Sara could tell that morning. Mickey didn’t argue with
her about using up all of the hot water in the shower, even though she
shampooed and conditioned her hair, which always took a long time. Mickey
didn’t say anything even when she cracked open the last egg over the frying
pan, and Michele had to eat cold cereal. Usually he’d say something. Michele
hates the taste of milk, and he hates the soy milk mother buys for them even
more. He never eats cereal.
It didn’t matter much, because Mickey took no more than three bites of his
breakfast. It’s strange because he’s always wolfing down his breakfast. He’s
always picking at hers, and demanding more. Really annoying. One time when they
were young, Sara stabbed him in the hand with a fork and mom had to take him to
urgent care. But it’s not like he needed stitches or anything.
Sara could feel that something was off when they took the train to get to
school. They usually leaned up against one another on the crowded subway to
avoid others. This morning, Michele stands back against the wall with his arms
crossed across his chest. Normally he’d let her stand close to him with his
arms draped around her so that if anyone else touched her, there’d be a barrier
between her and them.
Sara can feel the pull of eyes upon them as the train goes east bound and fills
with other people on their morning commute. Today, they aren’t looking at her
skirt that barely meets dress code. They aren’t looking at her blouse
unbuttoned too low. They aren’t looking at her cotton candy colored lip gloss,
and it makes her angry but not in the way that she’d expect.
They’re looking at Mickey.
“What’s wrong?” She feels like she’s yelling over the sound of normal chatter
on the train. She feels like every eye turns to them and looks at them and them
alone, but she has to know.
“Nothing Sara,” he insists. “Don’t coddle me. It’s my job to look after you.”
He rocks up on his toes, and the train plunges into a tunnel. It lurches to a
stop at the next station, and the motion jerks him forward sending his body
careening into hers. With his body on hers, she smells it.  
They typically smell just alike. The cinnamon honey shampoo that Mama buys, and
the discount detergent Sara dumps into the washing machine along with their
unsorted clothes. Now, he smells different. All the normal components of his
scent are still there, it’s just that everything is stronger. It makes her want
to bury his face into his pullover.
But Michele rights himself with the bar, and offers her a hand upward.
Something isn’t right.
She and Michele are in P.E. class when Franz Rosso body checks Michele on the
soccer field. Sara can see it from the corner of her eye while Ms. Moretti has
the girls jog past to do warm ups. Despite getting great scores in junior
competitions, Sara’s always a hair’s breath away from failing P.E. She doesn’t
like to exert herself, especially when she knows that she’s going to have to do
all sorts of strength conditioning, cardio, and on-ice stuff as soon as she’s
out of school.
Sara’s vision tunnels white hot, and she breaks away from the pack of miserable
jogging girls. She launches into the soccer game, throws all of her weight onto
him, even though she knows he presented as an alpha last year when they were in
year eight.
Sara bounces off of him like Michele’s glow in the dark super ball against the
exposed cinderblock wall in their apartment. It doesn’t stop her. She gets up
immediately.
Michele yells, “Sara what the fuck?” but it doesn’t stop her. She snarls at
Rosso, and lunges at him once again.
It’s Michele, not the teachers that pull her off. “A man isn’t supposed to have
his sister jump in damn it!” but it all sounds like he’s holding her head under
water.
===============================================================================
“Something isn’t right,” Mr. DeLuca the head master gets up, walks around the
desk, and looks down at her. He stinks like curdled milk, and he looks at her
over gold rimmed glasses with a frown that makes her skin crawl. She feels like
crying out, but Mickey isn’t here to save her. “Usually it’s Michelle in here
for beating up boys that talk to you.”
Sara’s told to go wait out in the hallway while mama comes to get her. She’s
gonna get yelled at because Mama had to take off of work. She doesn’t
understand why she can’t just go home, but apparently “suspended,” is different
from just going home at the end of the day.
Sara picks the nail polish off of her nails. She kicks her Mary Jane shoes
against the walls until the secretary pokes her head out of the office and
tells her, “stop it Crispino.”
So, she throws in a piece of bubble gum and starts chewing big pink bubbles,
until she catches scent of something that’s sweeter than candy. In an instant,
she knows its Mickey. She leave her spot, and races too him. “Mickey,” and this
time Michele doesn’t shrink away from her touch. He doesn’t scream, “what the
fuck?”  He sinks into her touch, and she burrows her face into the crook of his
neck.
“Mickey,” she repeats with her mouth on his skin. “What’re you in for?” But in
the back of her mind she already kind of knows. Sure, she skipped out on health
class all last semester to go to the arcade with Mickey before practice, but
she isn’t stupid. “You didn’t get into a fight did you?” It’d be just like him,
to go after Rosso even though she started it.
“Passed out after you left. I’m fine though.” He insists. “Nurse said I’m
presenting,” his face is sullen and defeated. She wonders why. She always knew
he’d make a good alpha.
“At least we won’t get bitched at by mom alone,” she supplies. Something isn’t
right. Usually it’s Mickey that’s doing his best to comfort her, even when they
both know that they’re screwed.
===============================================================================
Mama doesn’t say a word about her fight on the way home. Mama takes Mickey into
the bed she’s shared with her brother for years. Mama grabs her pillows and
blankets, and dumps them onto her bed own bed. “Mama,” her voice is timid. The
way that Mama huffs and puffs around the apartment, her long face gaunt and
displeased, she doesn’t want to upset her more. “Why are you taking my things
out of my room?”
“You can’t share a room with Michele anymore.”
“What!?” anxiety tugs at her chest in the same way that it did when Rosso
touched Mickey. “No way! Why?” Sure, it would be complicated if Michele was an
alpha and she were an omega…and everything suggested she would be…But she
hadn’t presented yet. What difference did it make? “Mickey and I need each
other!”
Mama doesn’t say a word. She snaps up her work badge from the table, along with
her purse. She marches over to Sara, and she sees nothing in her expression.
It’s worse than if she were angry.
By now, Sara’s an expert at dodging Mama. She’s been doing it for years. She’s
taller, and she’s stronger, and she’s faster, but this time it takes her by
surprise. She can see the swoop of her hand in the corner of her eye for a
fraction of a second before it makes contact with her cheek.
Sara braces herself in the doorframe from the recoil. The onset of the sting is
delayed. It only hurts after she’s moved her hand to cup her cheek. She can
hear Michele say her name from the other side of the door, but she’s still too
shocked to actually do anything about it.
Sara snarls at Mama, like that will actually do something to change her mind.
“Keep away from Michele tonight. Understand?”
===============================================================================
 
Mama goes back to work, and in an instant Sara’s wedged herself back into the
door frame.
Mama’s got the door locked from inside. First, she jiggles the handle, and then
she tries to throw her weight against it like in the movies. She doesn’t
particularly think it’s going to work, but her body tells her to do it anyway.
“Mickey open up.”
“I can’t,” Michele says from inside. “I can’t Sara.” Michele sounds like he’s
in pain, and that makes her vision tunnel. Make her feel week in the knees. It
grabs her by the gut and twists, and is this how Mickey feels whenever she
cries out for him at the rink?
“What do you mean you can’t? I’m your sister Mickey.” Her voice is firm, and
confidant in a way that it usually is not. Normally, when she tries to get what
she wants from him, her voice waivers, it cracks, tears form in her eyes, and
he has no choice but to act.
It isn’t like that now.
Sara can hear the soft shuffling sound of footsteps. He’s wearing his slippers.
The big puffy ones that look like dragons she got him for Christmas.
The thin wooden door creaks within the frame, and she can smell his scent even
stronger now. It makes a hot blush spread across her cheeks. It makes her toes
curl up in her socks. It makes her splay her palm across the door and want
more, more, more. He’s either leaning up against the door with his back to it,
or jammed in the door frame, or has his own hands against the hard wood. He’s
so close, but he’s never felt further away.
“I’m an omega Sara.”
It must be hard for him, thinking it was going to go one way, and it ends up
being another. It must be hard for him, being different. Male omegas are much
more uncommon than female. Despite this, Sara is greedy. Sara is lonely. Sara
cannot console him right now because her own heart aches from being separated.
Sara wants him so desperately to open the door. “That doesn’t change anything.
Open the door! I can take care of you.” She’s seen movies and television. He’ll
make a nest and she’ll bring him snacks, and everything will be okay.
“Sara,” Michele’s voice cracks now the same way it did when she said she was
Piero Costa’s girlfriend. It means she’s about to get her way. “I think you’re
an alpha.”
“What?” Sara’s hands shake as she reaches for the handle and tries it again.
“That’s ridiculous?” Except, trying to deck Rosso. Her newfound
confidence…She’s never snarled at Mama before. The fact that Mama locked her
out of the room…”Mickey, please. I can take care of you.”
“I’m supposed to be able to take care of you,” he pouts from behind the door.
“Just open the door Mickey. It will be okay.”
Mickey jiggles the handle from the other side, and opens the door.
Sara has him wrapped up in her arms immediately. Everyone always sees Mickey
fight for her. What they don’t see is how she comforts him. What they don’t see
is how Mama tells her, “you’re not his mother I am,” when she babies him.
She presses her head to his chest, and scratches at his scalp. With her other
hand, she rubs his back.  As she holds him, she tries to ignore how damp his
body is. He’s soaked through his shirt in several places.  What she does not
ignore is how good he smells. It’s addictive, and she dare not pull away for
fear of going without. What she does not ignore is how hard he is. She can feel
his cock pressed against her hip as they embrace.
“She didn’t hurt you did she?” Michele pulls back for a moment, and pushes the
hair away from her face. He doesn’t even look like himself. His eyes are blown
wide, and even though his concern is genuine, his expression doesn’t match. His
lips are parted slightly. His eyes are blown wide.
“Of course not Mickey,” she assures him. “I’m way faster than her,” and she
smirks in a way that she herself has never smirked until now. Except, the
action feels normal; she’s watched him do it millions of times. “Feel better
though right?” She says raking her nails down his back. “Now that I’m here?”
Michele whimpers.
Sara walks them backwards. It’s like they’re in pairs again, but she’s in the
lead. Michele’s knees hit the bed. They flop down onto it.
“Yeah,” he says as he drapes his body over hers. He pushes the hair out of her
eyes. He buries his nose in the juncture of her neck. “Much better.”  
It takes no time at all for sleep to tug at the corner of Sara’s eyes. She
feels so warm with Mickey. She feels so good when she’s with him. Mama was
crazy to think that keeping them apart was a good idea.
===============================================================================
 
When Michele was little, he had nightmares. Sara would always wake him up
before anyone could hear. Sara wakes up to the sound of Michele sobbing in his
sleep, and it tears something loose from deep within her chest. How dare anyone
hurt Mickey. Sara teeters on the edge of asleep and awake. Everything feels
hot, and as much as she claws at the covers, she cannot find Mickey in the
darkness.
Something feels heavy between her legs, and for a split second she can recall
what Mickey told her, “I think you’re an alpha.”
Sara’s eyes open. She sucks in air as if she’s been held under water for a very
long time. She pushes the blanket away from Mickey, and watches in rapt
fascination and horror as he grimaces in his sleep. “Mickey!” She shakes him
awake.
Michele’s eyes flutter open. His expression of terror melts into one of sharp
relief when he sees her face. “Sara,” he leans into her touch.
“Mickey.” For a moment all they can do is hold one another.
It’s Mickey that breaks the silence again. “I told you, you were an alpha.”
“What?”
Michele rocks his cock against her. The space between her legs feels like the
time she stuck her fingers into a light socket when Mickey touches her there.
“I told you. I could tell. You smelled different. When you went after Rosso
today…” She can feel him smile. It’s not his usual cocky smirk, but the softer
one that only she sees. “I um…I felt it.”
“You felt it?”
“Yeah,” Mickey responds sheepishly. “Here,” and he grabs her hand, uncurls her
long fingers, and places her hand on his cock. Then, without a word, he touches
her between her legs. Sure enough, her body has changed. She can’t see it, but
she can certainly feel a thick heavy….oh god.
“Mickey!” she gasps. They aren’t supposed to do this.
“Sara,” he responds. “The school nurse didn’t give me any medication. Neither
did Mama.”
His hands don’t still for a moment. He traces up and down her cock with his
fingers. He tries to grab it and fist it through her clothes.
“We really shouldn’t-ah,” pangs of guilt wash over her as she arches into his
touch.
Despite her protests, Mickey doesn’t stop there. He latches onto her, and ruts
his cock up against her side. He breathes hot puffs of air into her ear. His
lips rest lazily on her neck. “Sara, it hurts.”
That’s all she needs to hear. It doesn’t matter if it’s wrong, or if they
shouldn’t. No one hurts Mickey. She rips away his shirt, and claws at his
pants. When he’s naked before her on their faded peony patterned sheets, her
breath catches in her throat.
What now? The ache of her own cock is omnipresent. But, she neglects it no
matter how it strains against her lace panties, and makes her uniform skirt
ride high. 
Michelle’s cock is red and leaking. On instinct Sara parts his legs. His hole
is more or less the same: wet, twitching, and needy. She sticks her fingers
between his legs, and pushes against his entrance.
Mickey gasps under his touch, “Sa-ra.” Slurrs his syllables like the time they
got drunk table wine over winter break. He hides his eyes in the crook of his
elbow. “I’m greedy Sara. Always asking you to do things for me.”
The only time Michele ever feels guilty is in the moment after he’s decided to
ask for more. Sara knows this. Sara tolerates this. In this moment, Sara wants
it. She wants someone to tell her to do it. She wants to hide behind the excuse
of Michele’s heat.
She slips the tip of her finger inside. Michele groans, and pushes down onto
it.
“Feels good?”
“Really good.” He says. She believes him too. His eyes are half lidded and his
lips are parted. Even though the room gets darker and darker by the minute, she
can tell that his skin is flush and warm. “But,” his sheepish grin transforms
into something she’s more familiar with, something wolfish and hungry.
“More huh?” she says as she moves her finger and out.
Immediately it has an effect on him. He fists his hands into the sheets, arches
his back and moves into the touch.
“Yeah,” he breathes.
“I dunno,” she says pulling her finger out and pressing against his hole. “You
seem to just get really worked up over one,” now it’s her turn to smirk at him.
It’s the look that she gives him whenever she makes him pass notes for her to
other boys. It’s the look she gives him when she asks to go out cruising with
him and his friends in Marco Abate’s convertible.
“Please, Sara,” he looks up at her with wide and desperate eyes. “Please.
You’re the only one that can help me.”
That statement alone goes straight to her cock. She plunges in with two
fingers, and Michele howls in response. Her fingers slide in easily, and
quickly become coated in the thick fluid that leaks from Michele constantly.
She twists her fingers in and out, and each time a shiver shoots down her spine
at the strange squelching noise that Mickey’s body makes.  
Sara pulls down her panties as she fingers Michele. It’s a little unfair. Her
body’s changing too, but so far it’s been all about her brother. Typical. She
works her panties down around her hips and then pushes back the plaid fabric of
her skirt.
Her cock is different from Michele’s: longer and thicker. Around the base, the
skin is flared outward already. The sight makes her giggle. She’s going to have
so much fun teasing all the larger alpha males at school.
She fists it in her hands, and of course Michele has to comment on that too.
“What are you doing Sara?” He moans.
“Taking care of us both as usual!” She huffs as she runs her fingers down the
length of her shaft. She touched herself before, when it was just a hole and a
clit. Rosalinda told her about it, and she was curious. She never saw the
appeal.
This feels infinitely better.
If she clamps her eyes shut tight, and focuses on the push of one hand into
Mickey, and the pull of another, it’s like there’s nothing left in the world.
It’s like she isn’t even doing anything wrong.
“Why do that when we could…”
Sara opens her eyes, and locks eyes with Mickey.
“You know.”
“Mickey.” Her voice hitches when she says it because she’s supposed to say no.
She’s supposed to say no, but she’s not sure if she can.
“Tell me you don’t want to.” He sits up, and her fingers slide out. Gone is the
needy and passive omega that hijacked her brother. Her confidant, cocksure,
annoying brother is back. Now he pushes her onto the bed.
For a moment, Sara silently admits to herself that she’s always imagined this
happening. Like this. With Mickey on top.
“You want to,” he says.
Michele pushes her panties the rest of the way down. He pushes her skirt up. In
his need the motions are disjointed. He tries for the zipper on her skirt, but
abandons the effort when it snags. Mickey straddles her thighs and splays his
fingers across her still clothed chest. He holds her cock in his hand, and
sinks down on it.
Sara’s jaw goes slack in a silent scream. How could she have ever said no to
this? How could she have ever explored her new body any other way? Michele
feels like being buried underneath the duvet when the heater kicks on, on a
cool winter morning. Michele feels hot like heating pad their sports medicine
specialist uses. He feels tight like a wound ace bandage.
“Told ya you wanted to.” Michele uses his muscular build to his advantage. He
squats on her cock and works himself up and down over and over again. The sound
of Mickey’s ragged breath and uneven moans are deafening.
Mickey feels nice, and he sells nice. It’s almost perfect…Except one little
thing. It pisses her off so much whenever Mickey makes up her mind for her. She
hates it when he confuses her kindness for passive behavior. She was going to
do it anyway! He wasn’t supposed to push her down and take. He was supposed to
lay her down nice and sweet. He of all people should understand.  
Sara grits her teeth, and grabs him by the hips. In an instant she’s sitting
up, and in another she’s pushing him over so that he’s on his back and she’s on
top. She’sthe alpha and she can. She pounds into him, and doesn’t relent for a
moment, even when she can feel her cock swell deep within him.
“Hey, slow down.”
“Mickey,” it’s not even about getting under his skin anymore. It’s about doing
what feels good, and Mickey feels so good. With each thrust she gets bigger.
With each thrust, he gets tighter. Yet, the drive to keep pounding inside
remains constant.
She answers by pushing him further back. Her hands rest on his thighs as she
can feel something tighten within her body. “Thought you wanted me to help
you.”
Michele’s eyes look glassy, as if he’s about to cry. It’s a sharp contrast to
his stomach which is covered in sticky white fluid. “You’re really big Sara.”
“Shh, Mickey,” and just like that her anger fades away again. He’s always doing
that, getting her riled up and smoothing it all away as if it’s nothing. “It’s
fine.” She takes his cock into her hand. She pumps him in quick uneven
movements that match the brutal pace of her hips. “I promise.”
Sara lied and told Rosalind after she touched herself for the first time that
she came. Now she knows different. It feels like falling on the ice hard and
sudden, yet it feels like the best thing in the world all at the same time.
She can feel her cock twitch deep inside Mickey. At the same time, Mickey
spills all over her hand and his stomach.
She’d always imagined afterglow the way it was in the movies. He’d hold her
close and tell her she was beautiful. They’d take a shower, and do it again.
The next time, he’d be gentle and sweet.
None of that happens.
Sara tries to pull out, but she’s stuck. Her knot is too inflated. Whenever she
tries to move, Michele just cants his hips upward into her desperate for more
contact. His brain is addled once more by another surge of heat. With Sara
between his legs like this, the position is awkward, and she doesn’t know what
to do with herself.
Michele just pushes her down, so that she’s half kneeling half laying
haphazardly on the broad expanse of his chest. Michele threads his fingers in
her hair, and rocks up against her. He continues to make the best little
noises. It’s nothing like she imagined her first time being, but it’s alright.
Keys jingle at the door. The sound doesn’t register right away. There’s the
slide thunk of the deadbolt being undone followed by the sound of the door to
the apartment opening.
Sara sits up, to find that they’re still stuck together. Her eyes meet
Michele’s and although neither of them speak, they both know what the other is
thinking, “Mama.”
===============================================================================
 
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!