#also if this is not the scrimmage you were talking about.... i 'm sorry

[bigbrotherlouis]

i would love a directors cut for the first scrimmage scene from kinda like that this ends in smoke!

boy oh boy okay. i was very conscious while writing that this scene needed to do A Lot: it needed to establish, at least a little, what is standing in for a hockey game, establish the team fighting dynamic, and showcase patty’s powers. that last one, in particular, needed to be really sharp because it sets up the conflict and conceit for the rest of the fic, which is: it’s dangerous for patty to be touched. (original)

They’re close to the last people in the training room, wandering into the nearly full space. Nolan goes pink when everyone stops to look at him, the whole team in their blacks and oranges, the support staff in their whites and navies. (i had a whole world of worldbuilding that i wanted to do with this fic but my momentum got cut off in exactly the wrong way at exactly the wrong time. i might revisit it in the future, but by the end i was just trying to get everything DONE) It’s a clear delineation of team and not team, and Nolan seems to have picked the wrong colour. TK could’ve fucking told him.

“You could’ve told me,” he hisses and peers through the onset blurry confusion. (really enjoyed putting thought into what different emotions could manifest as! confusion makes everything blurry!) 

“Told you… oh. No, it’s chill. You’re new and usually it doesn’t matter if you’re in uniform.”

It makes him stand out more, a target on his back. An anomaly. He scowls at his shoes, breathing through the restless energy that’s taken up residence in the room. (nolan being set apart, by choice or not, is a big theme) If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought there was a storm coming, that Laughts had let his lightning go.

The last person on the team must finally find their way in because the door snicks shut with a click audible over the quiet talking. It’s like a signal, the way everyone goes quiet and swings their head in Nolan’s direction. It feels like being pinned and, for a split second, all he can feel is the overwhelming lilt of his own fear. It’s so strong, he half-wonders if he’s projecting or intaking, if someone nearby is getting hunted. (being the new guy is scary)

“Nolan Patrick,” something crackles over the speakers and Nolan flinches. “Welcome to the team.”

There’s a whooping that goes up from the boys, loud and unexpected. TK yells with them and looks like he’s a split second away from elbowing him in the side.

A black-suited figure comes down, one that Nolan recognizes as Coach, with Claude at his shoulder. He nods instead of extending his hand to shake. Nolan inclines his head back.

“Now, Patrick. We’ll get you back in the lab for individual testing soon enough, but we usually like to do the introductory session with everyone else, helps everyone know what they’re working with. No one’s going to intentionally hurt you, so don’t do any permanent damage.” (i did not want to write boring testing and wanted to get to the good part, so i made it work)

“I’ll try not to,” Nolan says after a second.

“Scrimmage first. You’re with Claude. Divide up, boys.” He yells the last part and the crowd starts to split between oranges and charcoals, lining up against opposite walls of the oval-shaped room. TK gives him a mischievous smile and then disappears, reappearing down at the other side of the long, long hall.

“Don’t be nervous, kid,” Claude says quietly, duly scanning the room as he takes in his team. He’s excited, Nolan can feel it patter against his skin like raindrops. “It’s all good fun, eh?”

“It’s training.” (nolan and claude’s dynamic is so important to me personally)

He smiles, sharp. “Fun training. Low stakes.”

Easy for him to say, he’s not being watched by a hundred pairs of eyes from every side, waiting to watch him fail. He doesn’t bother to say this.

“Just don’t get too close to Laughton. Or Coots.”

“I don’t know who Coots is,” he mumbles and Claude snickers, shifting his weight. There’s a warning whistle.

“Alright, Nolan. Are you defensive or offensive?” (i wanted to preserve some structure from hockey so it’s not so different. i messed with lines a little because i couldn’t think of a good reason why defense/offense shouldn’t be mixed, but i genuinely tried to keep people’s positioning consistent  with their real life position)

Nolan frowns deeper. “Uh, neither?” Claude swings around to look at him in surprise and he feels his shoulders inching up towards his ears. “Or maybe both,” he offers. “Not sure.”

Claude stares at him for a second. “You were second in the Academy and you don’t even know what’s your positioning?” (i actually couldn’t decide if nolan’s ability was more defense or offense, so i handwaved it)

Nolan chews on his cheek for a second. His ability isn’t so easy to position, isn’t so easy to fit into a designation. It‘s part of what makes him wanted. “Well… yeah. I guess.”

He mutters something that sounds like French and then heaves a sigh.

“Okay, just… don’t get flattened. Or shocked. (foreshadowing!) And don’t permanently harm anyone, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay behind me if you need protection but watch out for people coming around back. TK’s sneaky like that.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t hit anyone in orange.”

“I won’t,” Nolan says and Claude grins at him again.

“Watch out for JVR’s teeth.” (this is just claude messing with him)

“I don’t know who anyone is,” he reminds him, mildly exasperated, just as the second whistle goes, and the entire room explodes into furious movement.

Nolan’s done scrimmages like this before, of course he has, but it’s different this time. Different when it’s people who know their boundaries, know their abilities, and aren’t just trying to figure it all out. (i needed a reason for nolan to not keep his cool later, and this seemed as good as a reason as any) No one screams because they got hit by a too-strong blast, or shorts out in the middle of the neutral zone, or collapses. (the flip side is, of course, i then needed to describe the difference between juniors/the real thing) Instead, the two sides flow together like water, easy and fluid, as the sounds of a fight start up. It tastes like ozone again, sweetened by eagerness and fondness. They’re having fun, Nolan realises, like G said.

The two of them hang at the back of their crowd, a thin edge of frustration coming from Claude, and he knows that they’re in the back for him, that Claude usually is up front, leading. (claude likes to play, in every universe)

“We can—” he starts and cuts himself off when a… something… lands in front of them. Claude’s grin turns delighted, eager, hungry.

“Oh, a rematch, ya fuckin’ pigeon?” G says and the monster chirps, sharp teeth snapping. “You’re fucking on.”  (i chose JVR’s ability purely to make this joke. every power in here is either carefully chosen for plot reasons, or to make a joke)

“Uh,” says Nolan.

“Watch my back,” he manages to shout and then he’s launching himself at the creature. Nolan whirls around and watches his back.

“So you’re defensive,” says TK, appearing in front of him with a blink. He’s unwrapping a protein bar. (speedsters eating all the time is one of my favourite tropes) “Interesting.”

“I’m not— anything.”

“Okay, Mr. Number Two In The Academy,” he teases back, half garbled from the food in his mouth. “Are you supposed to be guarding?”

“I guess?”

TK snorts. “Let’s see what you can do, pretty boy.” (he’s watched too many bad superhero movies)

He blurs and Nolan feels something crash into his body, an impossible weight that nearly pushes him over. He gets his feet under him just in time, manages to stumble instead of fall, and TK is in the place he just vacated. (this served a lot of purposes! it slows down the fight scene a little so it paces correctly, gives a little more insight into both how TK processes scrimmages and his characterisation a little, and it gives them more time to build rapport.)

“Think I can distract your captain long enough for JVR to pin him?”

“I think you would’ve done it already if that was your plan,” Nolan answers, just as a hand clamps down on his shoulder. TK wasn’t lying about being a distraction, then. “Fuck,” he sputters out and the hand drives him down, impossibly heavy. (there’s a lot of potential abilities that could’ve sparked this reaction-- we see laughts do it later-- but i needed something not permanently damaging but still dire. i know later i say provy’s invulnerable, because that would be a quick way to explain for people, but what’s really going on here is that he’s controlling his density, and that’s what makes him hard to hurt.)  Without thinking, he wraps his own fingers around the strange wrist and opens up the connection, funnels everything he can through his palm, and lets loose.

His attacker screams. (a scream and a short sentence like this is a very effective tool in communicating the gravity of a situation.)

There’s a whistle and the whole room freezes, everyone turning to look at the two of them. Nolan’s on his knees and the man is hunched over him, only upright because of his knees braced against Nolan’s back and his fingers in a death grip on Nolan’s shoulder. (figuring out the physical positioning for this was fun)

Nolan can barely see, can barely process anything through the overwhelming shock radiating from every angle, and the terror rebounding between him and his attacker, getting stronger with every bounce. It’s black like oil, all-consuming as it slides across his vision and down his throat, tasting like sulfur. Everyone always said that fire-and-brimstone was anger, but to Nolan, it’s always been the scentflavourfeeling of pure, unadulterated fear. (okay, this is really what i wanted to show with this scene: exactly how dangerous nolan is and how that danger presents. people are wary of him because he can tell their emotions, but even though that’s embarrassing, the fact that he can control their emotions to the point where they forget everything else is where he gets truly scary. that’s why people don’t touch him. he’s also been trained to react on instinct to do the worst damage possible as fast as possible, and paralyzing fear is gonna get him there every time) He chokes, bends over his thighs, as the weight bears down on him. He’s going to be crushed by a stranger slash teammate on his first day. What a way to go. How embarrassing. (a moment of levity to showcase the danger, and to stay true to nolan’s character.)

He lets go out of self-preservation when his forehead bumps his knees, bracing both his hands against the ground, and there’s a burst of awe that cuts through everything like a beam of sunlight. (a clear contrast to the oil description a paragraph earlier) When he looks up, follows the feeling, TK’s eyes are wide.

“But Provy’s invulnerable,” someone says, stunned, and he wrenches himself away, sliding sideways so his attacker— Provy, apparently— can slump to the ground. Nolan’s on his back, staring at everyone who’s staring at him.

“I—” he starts and then stops, licking his lips. His brain is so fried, too much going through his body. It’s a lot of strong feelings, too many for all his defences, and it’s overwhelming. He tries again. “I.” (i don’t know if anyone notices but i do try to adjust my spelling to the spelling the narrator would use)

“Holy shit, Pat,” TK breathes. Provy groans and Nolan refocusses for a moment, touches his arm just long enough to push contentment through, enough to drive away the horror that lingers. It’s as much for Nolan as it is for Provy, clears away the rest of the black oil. “What did you do?” (trying to establish that patty’s not an asshole and

“If that’s number two,” Claude says, “then I don’t want to see what the number one can do.”

Nico can control fire, and can control it really well. It’s pretty sick to see. He deserved the number one. (someone asked me if this is because he went to the devils-- no, that’s just a coincidence lol i just needed a power that was conceivably more powerful than nolan’s) 

Provy pops his head up. He’s younger than Nolan thought, closer to his age and TK’s than Claude’s. He’s grinning, inexplicably. (the duality of provy-kind)

“That was incredible,” he says, and the happiness tastes like Nolan’s own. (worldbuilding!) Inorganic, but it’s the most he can do after putting the guy on his back. “But fuck, I never want to do that again.”

“So,” Coach says, shouldering his way through the crowd. Gingerly, Nolan sits up. “Provorov’s invulnerable to most physical attacks—”

“Haven’t been flattened in years,” Provy interrupts happily. Coach cuts a look at him and he snaps his mouth closed. (he’s still just a kiiiiid they’re all so young)

“—and the new kid comes in and does what no one else has done for years. What the fuck do you have sparking under your skin, bud?”

Nolan swallows. Abilities are weird. People are weird about them, even those who have them too, when it comes to ones like his. (patty being set apart, yet again!) It’s one thing to have some sort of physical power, one that you can turn off most of the time, and entirely another to be able to mess with people’s heads. He kept that shit under lock, as much as he could, even through the Academy. It’s normal to not reveal abilities to the teams, helps keep things secure and confidential. It’s why the rankings exist, so the teams spread out across the continent know a little how to prepare. Now that he’s placed, he should be able to talk about it. Could speak freely, if he wanted, but. But.

Anticipation tastes a lot like metal, that much different from the ozone of adrenaline. A complement. Nolan’s mouth is filled with the iron flavour of it as the whole room waits out to hear what he’s going to say. He licks his lips again, tastes it stronger.

“Empath,” he says quietly, and feels the emotions in the room change like the air before a storm. “I’m an empath.”

For a second, everything is too heightened and chaotic to make sense of, the team readjusting with the new information, and then it all settles into something understandable. The cherry-bright smell of curiosity, confusion blurring the sides of the room, fear and anxiety joining the anticipation on his tongue. There’s satisfaction too, humming gently against Nolan’s body, but he can’t figure out where it’s coming from just yet. (the satisfaction is coming from coach, claude, and tk, all for different reasons, but it also hints at emotions from different people having their own tint)

“Oh,” Provy drags out, running a hand through his hair. “That makes a lot of sense.”

“Touch-based?” Coach presses.

“To transmit emotions, yeah,” he says. “Not, uh. Not for input, though.”

“Input, like—”

“Like I can tell what you’re feeling. All the time, as long as you’re near me,” he says and closes his eyes against the shift that causes too.

“Well,” Coach says after a moment. “Looks like we have some readjusting to do.”

and that’s the end of that segment! i don’t know if i accomplished everything i wanted to, but i certainly tried. i really liked how this came out-- it was punchy without being too long and not too many info-dumps. very nice @ me. i think packing a bunch of emotion in (as was necessary, given nolan’s superpower) and taking time to explain it was really helpful for the pacing. also it let me get away without trying to figure out so much  emotion. thank you!

[yayeetsonny]

Family~Krashlyn x Baby Reader

Prompt: Baby r is super short (shorter than Crystal lol), she is super close with Ali and Ash, they are like parents to her since her home life isn't great and her actual parents suck ass. She’s bummed about a father daughter dance and tries to hide it but Ash and Ali get her to spill. Ash saves the day

Requested By: Anonymous 

TW: Mentions of Neglect, verbal and emotional abuse and Anxiety. Brief depictions Verbal/emotional and brief physical abuse.

Y/N PRO//

I have always been jealous of kids whose parents are actually decent human beings. Jealous of those who have a good relationship with their parents and their mom and dad are actually nice to them and care about them. My parents are all about themselves, they never make time for me and I’m pretty sure if they had it their way they would have abandon me years ago. The only reason they haven’t is because of their precious “Image” They are some pretty powerful people in the business world and they don’t want their reputations ruined by any bad publicity. They see me as secondary to their company, and they are always leaving me alone in the house for long stretches of time. On the off chance they are home they make a point to tell me how pathetic I am and how I’m useless or worth nothing. They admonish me for my grades in school even when I’m doing really well and they call my social anxiety “ridiculous” and tell me I need to “get over it.” 

My life isn’t all bad though. I have made a pretty good name for myself, I’m a pro soccer player in the NWSL for the Orlando Pride and I play on the National team. Even at the tender age of 15, I have been afforded all these amazing opportunities and I have several college scholarships waiting for me. It’s amazing, and I have some of the best people in the world supporting me and my dreams. My Pride teammates of course and my national teammates as well, they’ve all be my anchors through everything but 2 people have always stood out above the rest. My teammates and ‘moms’ Ali Krieger and Ashlyn Harris. They are my biggest role models and the parents I’ve always wanted. I would not be where I am without them. I don’t speak very much around anyone but them but everyone else understands and doesn’t push me to talk.

Speaking of those two I’m currently smooshed in a Krashlyn sandwich as I make my way onto the field for Pride practice.

“Hey shorty! Good to see you!” Ash said 

“Hey baby girl, How was school?” Ali asked 

“Hey guys, good to see you too. School was okay.” I said once they pulled away

“Just okay? Why’s that?” 

They looked at me concerned. They both knew about my social anxiety and how sometimes school was really hard for me. I only shrugged in return.

“Come on Y/N, what is it?” 

They got me to move over to a bench and sit in between them.

I once again only shrugged.

“Please tell us?”

I let out a tired sigh but knew I could trust them with anything.

“ My anxiety was getting in the way of a lot today.” I said, suddenly finding my shoes very interesting. 

“Hey…”

Ali put her finger under my chin and gently lifted my head so we’d make eye contact.

“What have we talked about when it comes to your anxiety?”

“That it doesn’t define me and that it’s okay if I have hard days sometimes.” I mumbled

“And what else?” Ashlyn chimed in

“And that I can always talk to you guys about it and that I don’t need to be ashamed of it. I know, I just don’t want you guys to think I’m weak or-”

“Hey, no. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“We know not everyday is going to be happy, full of sunshine and rainbows. That doesn’t make you any less strong and it most certainly doesn’t make you weak.”

“Thanks guys. I needed that reminder.” I said wiping the tear that had started to fall.

“We’ll always be here to let you know just how great you are.” Ashlyn smiled softly at me

“You ready to practice or do you need a minute?”

“I’m ready.”

I stood up, shook out any extra nerves and Ali leaned down to kiss me on the head.

“You know, kid… you’re really short.” She laughed

“I know.” I giggled

“I’m pretty sure you’re shorter than Crystal.” Ashlyn chuckled

“No way!” 

“Yeah I think so! She’s what… 5’0 feet even? How tall are you?”

“4’9 and 1/2” I mumbled

“Oh man! You are short.” 

“It’s not funny!”

I pouted at them as they continued to laugh at me but after a moment I smiled and joined in.

“Okay, okay. Time to get to work kids.” Ali said

“Yes mom” Ash and I said

We made our way to the center of the field where the rest of our teammates were. Alex Morgan and Carson Pickett among them.

“Hey, Krashlyn! Mini Krashlyn!” Carson Pickett said, excitedly running up and giving us all a hug.

“Hi.” I said 

“Hey guys! Hey mini K, how you been?” Alex asked coming up and also giving us hugs.

The Pride and national team all called me “Mini Krashlyn” or “Mini K” because they know how close I am with Ash and Ali and they consider us “America’s cutest family.” It’s a little silly but mostly really cute.

I waved and gave her a thumbs up.

She smiled at me softly in return

We were interrupted by coach telling us to get to work.

“Alright ladies! Let’s go, you know the drill. Warm up and then get on the line!” 

I rolled my eyes at the thought of doing suicides or sprints first but did as told. After we warmed up I got on the line in between Alex and Ali. Ashlyn was on Alex’s other side and our other teammates filled the rest of the line.

“You ready, kid?” Alex asked

I nodded and smiled in return.

Coach Skinner blew his whistle and we were off. We started out with sprints and then moved to suicides. By the end everyone was panting and trying to catch their breath. Well everyone except for Marta, she looked barley winded.

I just shook my head at her.

She shrugged in return, smirking at me. After a quick water break we moved onto drills. We went through, passing, defending and shooting drills and then a scrimmage before coach called it a day. We said good bye to our teammates before Ash and Ali gave me a ride home.

“You did good today, kid.” 

“Thanks.”

The ride to my house was in relatively comfortable silence with just the radio softly playing in the background but no one seemed to mind. Once they pulled up and stopped at the curb I got out and grabbed my stuff from the back.

“Bye guys. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the ride.”

“Y/N, wait.” Ash stopped me before I could go any further 

“Are you sure, you don’t wanna just spend the night at our place?”

I had told them that my parents were out of town and they knew what that meant. They tried to let me handle things how I saw fit but since I was only 15 they worried about me being alone for too long and sometimes convinced me to stay with them for a few days. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks for the offer though. My parents should be home tonight.”

“Are you sure? They don’t seem to commit to being home on time and we-”

“Ash I’m good. I promise. See you tomorrow.” I cut her off

I could tell they were conflicted about leaving me here but I gave them the best reassuring smile I could and they let it go.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N. We love you.”

“I love you guys too.”

I closed the car door, they waited for me to unlock my door before driving off. When I got inside I dropped my bag on the floor and sunk down next to it. My parents were actually coming home today and I wasn’t really looking forward to seeing them. 

I knew I needed to clean the house a little bit, so after sitting for a while longer I got up and got to cleaning. After a couple hours everything seemed to be the way they liked it, spotless. So I deemed it done and went to put away the supplies. As I was doing that I heard the front door open and rushed to finish putting everything away. I then made sure I looked “presentable” and made my way to the front of the house.

“Hi, mom. Hi dad. How was your trip?” I said as I came face to face with them for the first time in 2 weeks.

“Is the house clean?” My father asked completely ignoring what I said

“Yes sir.”

“It better be.”

My mom did little to even acknowledge my presence, only going as far to hand me her luggage and point upstairs. She then followed my father as he inspected my cleaning job. I rolled my eyes but brought her bag up anyways. I would have taken my dad’s too but he hates when I touch his stuff.

“Y/N M/N L/N!” dad yelled from wherever there were in the house. Oh man, he sounds really mad.

I went downstairs, and after searching for a minute I found them in the guest room.

“Yes sir?”

“What is this?” He asked sharply, showing me his hand that had a white glove with dust on it.

“Dust, sir.” 

“And why is there dust in this room?” His voice was dangerously low.

“I-I’m sorry sir, I did the best that I could.”

“Yeah, well your best isn’t good enough! You worthless waste of space. Clean the whole house again!”

“The whole house? But sir it’s just a little dust, I can-”

I didn’t get to finish because I felt a stinging sensation in my cheek and only after did I realize he had slapped me. I was dumbfounded, he had never done that before, he’d only ever yell at me and break the occasional vase but I never thought he’d actually hit me.

“Don’t ever talk to me like that again.” He growled 

I didn’t realize that I started crying.

“Stop crying before I give you something to really cry about.”

I stood there, stunned. I knew my parents were awful but I never thought either of them would put their hands on me. I wasn’t sure what to do, I wanted to call Ash and Ali but decided against it because I knew that they would most likely want to kill my father for this. I really wish my parents loved me. 

I did what my father said and cleaned the whole house again but this time I paid extra attention to the guest room and when it was finished I decided to go to bed. I could have eaten dinner but I was too exhausted to even try.

The next day…

At school I stayed more to myself than usual and made no real effort to talk to anyone. I was just walking to my next class when a very cheery girl, who looked to be a senior came up to me and in a cheery voice said

“Hey! The father daughter dance is next week on Friday night, don’t miss out!” 

She then handed me a flyer and all but, skipped away. I stood there for a moment wondering how someone could be so… happy, then I looked at the flyer and it read

“Spring Father-Daughter Dance! Next Friday, the 18th at 7! Don’t miss it!” 

I just scoffed at the idea of attending it with my dad, there was no way he would take me or even consider it. I just crumpled up the flyer and shoved it in my bag. Stupid dance, stupid flyer. 

I carried on with the rest of my day continuing to keep to myself. As much as I hated to admit it; I really wanted to go to the dance. I always wondered what a father-daughter dance was like and wish more than anything my dad actually carried enough to go. I knew that would never happen so I just continued to sulk about it until the school day was over.

When I got home I wasn’t surprised to find that my parents were gone, again and they wouldn’t be back for awhile. So I decided to call Ashlyn and Ali. Ali picked up on the first ring.

“Y/N?”

“Hi Ali, um- well, m-my parents left and they won’t be back for a-awhile and I was wondering if I could stay with you guys? I know we normally just have dinner together on Tuesdays but I just thought that w-we could-”

“Y/N! It’s okay, yes of course you can stay with us. We’ll be there in 15 minutes.” She said cutting off my rambling.

“Okay, thank you.” 

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Of course Y/N. See you soon.”

“See you.”

After we hung up I went to go pack a bag and I couldn’t help but have a bounce in my step as I did. The 15 minutes flew by and before I knew it I was meeting Ash and Ali out front and they were putting my bag in the car.

“You, okay?” Ashlyn asked coming around and giving me a hug

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“How was school?” Ali asked as I got in the car.”

At the mention of school I went silent. I had forgotten about the sour mood it had put me in but now I remembered why and became sad all over again. 

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked you how school was?” Ali turned off the car and turned around in her seat.

“Oh, it was fine.” I said trying not to look at either of them.

“Are you sure? You seem upset about it.” Ash said

“Yeah I’m sure. Nothing upsetting me today!” I said hoping they would believe me.

Ashlyn PRO//

Ali and I shared a worried glance as we watched Y/N avoid our eyes. We knew something was bothering her but didn’t want to push, so we just let it go and see if she would tell us on her own. The drive back to our house was quiet and not in a good way. I really hoped Y/N would open up to us soon, I hated when things got awkward between her, Ali and I.

When we got back to the house Y/N got out, without a word, got her stuff and headed to the garage, waiting for us to open it to let her in. After Ali and I once again shared a worried glance we opened it so she could go in and she did, presumably disappearing to the guest room.

“Do you have any Idea what could be bothering her?” 

“Not a clue.”

“Do you think her anxiety is acting up?”

“No… Well maybe but we just talked about that yesterday. She knows she doesn’t have to hide that from us.”

“Hmm… I’m sure she’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

We talked for a few more minutes before heading inside. We decided to leave Y/N be and get started on dinner. After we were done we called her into the dinning room and we sat down to eat. We knew school was possibly a sensitive topic but since she said it was “fine” we decided to ask about her day anyway.

“So… learn anything new in school?”

“W-we learned about fossils.” She mumbled

“That’s cool! Anything exciting happen?”

She once again looked uncomfortable and I started to think this may have been a bad idea.

“N-nope. Nothing.” 

“Y/N are you sure you’re okay?” I asked

“Ash…” Ali said, putting her hand on my arm.

“What? I just want make sure she’s okay.”

“I’m fine. School was fine.”

“Why do you seem so bothered every time we ask about it then?” 

“I don’t know.”

She looked down at her shoes and I knew her facade was starting to waver. I didn’t want to push but I was starting to become really concerned.

“Hey… What is it?”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Anything bothering you is a big deal.”

“I’m fine.” She said but her voice cracked, giving away how she really felt

“We all know that’s not true. Y/N, please talk to us. It’s okay.” 

“There’s a father-daughter dance next Friday.” She said quietly 

“Oh, babe. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because it’s stupid. Not like I have a dad to go with anyways.” She said angrily 

“Hey, no… It’s not stupid, not if it was bothering you and you want to go. Do you?”

“Yeah but it doesn’t matter. My dad would never willingly go.” 

“I’m sorry he treats you so poorly it’s not fair.” I paused for a moment before coming up with an idea. I decided to keep it a secret for now and tell Ali later when Y/N goes to bed.

“It is what it is.” She mumbled

“Well, what if we had a movie night to cheer you up?” I said

“Thanks guys, but I think I’m just gonna go to bed. May I be excused?”

“Sure, kiddo.”

We smiled sympathetically at her as she made her way to the guest room. As soon as the door shut I turned to Ali with a big grin on my face.

“What?”

“I have an idea, but we have to keep it a secret from Y/N.”

“Okay? What is it?”

“We hold our own dance right here. On the same night as the father daughter one!”

“Ash, that’s brilliant!”

“i know, but shhh, we can’t let her know.”

“When did she say it was?”

“Next Friday.”

“Perfect. I have some calls to make.”

After talked more about the plan, we agreed to call all of our teammates, from both the Pride and the national team. I started with Alex since she was on both teams.

“Hey Al?” 

“Hi Ash, what’s up?”

“Well, I’m planning a dance for Y/N. With Ali’s help of course. It’s next week on Friday night. She’s bummed about the father-daughter dance at school and I thought we could throw a better one to cheer her up.”

“Ash that’s so thoughtful. Do you need help with decorations and that kind of stuff?”

“That would be great, yeah.”

“I’m on it and I’ll text everyone and tell them not to spill the beans.”

“Thanks Al.”

“Anytime. Ahhh, she’s gonna love it.” She squealed 

“I hope so. Bye Alex.” I chuckled

“Bye Ash.”

The plan was in motion and I couldn’t be more excited. We just had to keep it a secret for a week. That couldn’t be that hard.

It was very hard.

We had contacted everyone from both teams and the majority of them said they could make it, some were flying in a few days early, to come visit us and to say Y/N was confused and suspicious was an understatement. She had almost caught me talking about it on the phone several times but I convinced her it was something else. But when players started showing up she grew even more suspicious.

Hey Y/N, good to see ya!” Tobin said as she and Christen made their way into our house.

“Hi?”

“You not happy to see us?” She teased

“No, I am b-but Ash said no one was coming to visit.” she said turning to me, narrowing her eyes.

“Well we decided to surprise you, surprise!” Chris said

“So... You, Tobin, kelley, Emily, Lindsey, and Alyssa all decided to surprise me?”

“Yes?”

“Hmmm. Well thanks for coming. I’ve missed you guys.”

“We missed you too!”

The next few days flew by and by Friday everything was set to be perfect. Ali took Y/N out for the day so we could set everything up. Our Orlando Pride teammates, along with the national teammates who had flown in early were helping. Everyone else would be landing in a couple hours.

“Ash where should we hang this banner?” Christen asked, holding up the “mommy-daughter dance” banner we made.

“Right over there, above the fountain.” I said.

We were planning to have it in the backyard so everyone could fit into the space. We compiled a playlist of songs that Y/N loved along with a few that were about a mother and daughter so that we could have to special dance they had at the father-daughter dances. We also strung up some twinkly lights and made sure the yard would be as lit up as possible. While this was mostly my idea Ali and the others really helped me put everything together and I was grateful for all their help.

Ali and I agreed that I would dance with Y/N first and then she would.

“Ash, When are the others supposed to get here?”

“By 5:00. Why?”

“Ali says Y/N wants to come home now.” Alex said

“Shit. What time is it?”

“4:15.”

“Okay, that’s not too bad. But how are we gonna hide all of this?” I gestured to all the decorations and food that was set up.

“I have no idea.”

“Oooo I know!” Tobin said

“What do you got, T?”

“I’ll just convince her to play Mario Cart with me, distract her from looking at the yard, and give you, Ali and everyone else enough time to get ready.”

“That’s perfect! But what about you?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I have a perfect outfit already lined up and it’ll only take me 5 minutes to change.”

“Jeans and a T-shirt huh?”

“Yeah...”

Alex and I chuckled. Of course, classic Tobin.

Time continued to fly by and before I knew it, Y/N and Ali were home and Tobin whisked her away to play video games.

“Wow Ash, this is amazing.” Ali marveled at our handy work.

“Thanks babe, you think she’ll like it?”

“She’ll love it.” She kissed me gently.

5:00 o’clock came around and everyone else started to arrive. Tobin did a good job of keeping Y/N away from the commotion and I told everyone to come in through the side gate.

“You did good, Harris” Megan said, patting me on the back.

“Thanks, Pinoe.”

Everyone started to get ready, taking turns in the bathroom or our room. Ali and I the last to get ready. When I was sure everyone was good, and everything was set I texted Tobin letting her know it was go time.

“Okay everyone! Thank you for coming! Y/N will be out here any minute so get ready to surprise her.”

Everyone left through the side gate to wait until I gave them the signal to come in and I stood right in the middle of the yard, waiting for Tobin to bring out Y/N. I heard the door to the yard open and adjusted my bow tie when I noticed it was crooked.

“Okay kid, don’t peek yet okay?” I heard Tobin say.

“Tobyyy... where are we going?”

“Just one second... Okay open!”

When she did, the look on Y/N’s face was one that I would never forget. Her eyes sparkled as took everything in and when she saw me standing there, she started to tear up. She really started to cry when she saw the banner we made.

“Mommy-daughter dance. Ash... You did this for me?”

“Of course kiddo. I wanted you to have a special night tonight, even if it meant you didn’t go to the dance at your school.”

“This is so much better, thank you!”

She ran to me and jumped in my arms. I caught her with ease and spun her around, peppering her face with kisses as she giggled.

“Anything for you baby girl.”

“Where’s Ali?”

“She is here, that’s actually the other part of the suprise. Ali! Guys!” I called out to them.

Everyone walked through the gate, Y/N gasping as they did.

“Oh my god. Guys?! What are you all doing here?”

“Well... we know this is a mommy-daughter dance but we wanted to be here for your special night.”

“Thank you!”

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Alex said softly

Y/N PRO//

I was overflowing with emotions, I had never felt so loved in my life. I hugged everyone and thanked them for coming before finally getting to Ali. She smiled at me with tears in her eyes and opened her arms, which I quickly ran into.

Ali... how can I thank you?”

“Save a dance for me?” She giggled

“Of course.”

“As much as I would love to chat with you, I think someone is waiting for you on the dance floor.” She said pointing at Ash. I looked back at her hesitant to leave.

“I don’t mind at all. Go have fun, we’ll dance soon.”

“Thank you mama, I love you.” I said before kissing her on the cheek and running off to dance with Ashlyn. That was the first time I had ever called her mama but I thought it was a fitting title and her and Ash are the parents I’ve always wanted

I joined Ash on the dance floor and she signaled to someone to change the song to a slow one. She smiled down at me as she took my hands in hers. Our height difference made it so I was definitely going to be stepping on her toes but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Thank you for all of this, mommy. I was so bummed about missing the other dance but I couldn’t be happier.” I said softly. I saw suprise cross her face at the new name I had given her but she embraced it without hesitation.

“I’m so glad, little one. Your mama and I love you so much. We always will.”

“I love you both more than I’ll ever be able to explain. You guys are the parents I’ve always wanted and the family I’ve always needed.” I said getting emotional.

“Family. Always.”

//

Sorry for any mistakes - N

[sunassweetie]

Already Gone.

Pairing: Suna x Osamu (Osasuna)

Word Count: 5.4k 

Genre: Pain haha :):

Disclaimer: Underage Smoking don't @ me 

Warning: I wrote this after I read the galaxy is endless. But also like major trigger warnings for a lot of various things, just know I didn't hold back. 

When Osamu was younger, he absolutely, and indefinitely, hated the idea of holding onto nothing. The idea that a person alone could hold themselves upright, and power through life on their own. Maybe it was because he had been surrounded by the welcoming arms of his family his entire life, hell the man shared a womb with his twin. There was never a time where Osamu had felt alone, and he couldn’t understand the want to ignore those who held their hands out to help. He couldn’t fathom not having a support system, or someone to help him get back up when he fell off the tracks. 

There was always someone there. Until of course there wasn’t, and only then did Osamu realize what he had meant when he said, “The world is unforgiving, you’ll always be alone even when you’re surrounded by millions of people.” 

-:-

Osamu met Suna in his first year at Inarizaki, shuffling into the lowest class, his twin in tow next to him as they moved down the corridor. He could hear people whisper, even through the speakers of his earbuds, unsure of whether or not he liked the attention him and Atsumu had been receiving the moment they stepped foot onto the school grounds. 

Are those the miya twins? 

They’re so attractive! 

I want to ask Osamu out! 

Do you think they are going to try out for the volleyball team? 

Duh, just look at them. 

Osamu could already feel an immense amount of pressure settling upon shoulders as he slipped into his designated classroom, leaving Atsumu’s side as different classes separated them. Idly walking down the aisles until his name tag placed on the corner of the desk seat number popped into his vision, cueing him to take a seat. 

It's uncomfortable, he thinks, I didn’t miss this. His notebook, that he didn’t really plan on using, took up space at his desk along with the small pouch that only contained two pens, a pencil, and extra lead. Leaning back in his chair, his hand fishes down into his pocket to pull out his phone, turning up the volume, as he checks the time. 

He has five minutes till class starts, not that he cared in the slightest. The only thing currently on Osamus mind besides his first high school volleyball practice (after guaranteeing a spot on the team months prior during his middle school scouting days) he was mostly worried about what seasonings he could add to his next onigiri batch. 

There's a loud thump next to him, his head craning to see the commotion. He’s only met with a lanky boy, shoulders broader than those Dorito chips he once saw his old school mate aran eating, and eyes slanted in a bored glare. His earbuds dangle from the neck hole of his shirt, but his large hands quickly come to pull the buds into his ears, leaning forward on the desk  and putting his arms out in front of him to use as a pillow against the hard wood of the tables. Osamu couldn’t describe the way the boy rendered him speechless, eyes staring into the boy wondrously.  

“Do you need something,” The boy says to him, pulling him from his daze, blinking twice as both boys stare at each other. 

“Sorry,” Osamu fumbles, turning forwards in his chair. 

-:-

“So these are the new first years?” The coach says next to a second year whos hair falls in front of their faces, amber eyes weaving in between each of the younger boys lined against the court. 

“There's one missing.” His voice is automatic, cool even to hear. 

 Osamu isn’t paying attention to the talk, his mind blankly staring at the nets, wondering what type of position would he be most effective in. Perhaps Atsumu would play as setter, and he could work alongside his brother, the only harmony that was ever brought into their never ending sibling rivalry. 

“Your late first year,” The coach booms as someone stumbles into the gym. This catches Osamus thoughts, his eyes following the commotion as someone goes to stand next to Atsumu. 

“Sorry, a teacher held me back.” 

“On the first day?”

“I fell asleep during announcements.” 

He falls silent as the coach goes on, explaining how the team would work and what was going to be on the agenda for the upcoming scrimmage game they were suppose to be playing against another school. But Osamu finds it hard to concentrate, looking between the tall brunette and the court. 

-:- 

He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he knew, it wasn’t something he had ever realized before in his life, until the confusion of his emotions finally made him realize it. Over the year, he hadn’t just grown close to Suna as you would expect of friends. No, it was much more to Osamu then he would ever admit to Suna. 

The way his heart would beat out of his chest, or the slight sheen of sweat that would slip across his hands when he spoke to the other boy. Sometimes he hated the way he felt, wishing he could return to simpler times, when all he had to worry about was volleyball, and the next snide remark he’d throw Atsumu’s way. 

He wondered endlessly if Suna ever picked up on those miniscule hints he’d leave. Like when the team would go out for ramen after a tournament went right, and he’d always take the seat next to Suna. The same applies when traveling distances, it was an unspoken agreement that Suna and Osamu would always be paired together in the bus seats. Those little gestures when Osamu would pick a pack of Chuupets to hand to Suna at the most random times, “Saw ‘em when I was grabbing some stuff for the onigiris ‘m makin’.” Possibly when Suna forgot his team jacket on cold days, Osamu would give him his extra that made home in his locker specifically for this occasion to pop up. 

-:-

The first time that Osamu ever inhaled the hazy smoke into his lungs, he was sitting next to Suna. The dark sky towering over them, the pressure of nationals coming to cause a permanent crease in their brows. 

“Wanna hit,” He asks Osamu, as they swing back and forth in slow, repetitive motions on the empty playgrounds swings. 

“I’ve never smoked before,” Osamu admitted, somewhat shyly, embarrassed at his lack of experience in front of someone who he knew had been smoking for a while now. 

“It's up to you, no pressure,” Suna would say, taking another hit, the rolled joint limply dangling from his lips, smoke emitting from his mouth with each inhale and exhale. Osamu wants to, he wants to know the high that Suna had adored so much, the pleasure that Suna would succumb to with each passing moment.

“Teach me,” He was scared he sounded desperate, or enthusiastic. He tried his best to act as if it didn’t bother him, attempting to keep a cool façade in front of Suna. Suna looks at him with a smirk, eyes slanted and red as he hands the drug to Osamu. When Suna slips him the joint, their fingers brush by slowly, lingering momentarily. It takes a few tries for Osamu to stop coughing when he takes a hit, Suna laughing each time until he gets it. 

Osamu gets it now, the feeling Suna chases each time he comes to smoke under the stars, “Does it always feel this good?” 

“Most of the time, sometimes you might have a bad trip,” He says. 

Osamu looks at Suna, wondering when they hand ended up lying in the grass together, at the most a foot apart as they gazed up at the burning balls of fire littering the sky. He always has his earbuds in, and Osamu wonders what is always playing through them, what music accompanies the man in front of him. 

“What are ya listen’ to,” Osamu asks then. Suna looks at him, and without a word, is taking the other earbud and handing it to Osamu.

Cigarettes after Sex. 

He had been listening to Cigarettes after Sex. 

-:-  

At the beginning of their third year, Osamu caught Suna in the halls, long after the bells had dismissed everyone to return home, leaving the building empty of all noise, minus the creaks the old building would create every once in a while. 

He had been kept back by his teacher, insisting to go through his bag as he, as the teacher explained, “Reeked of weed.” However Osamu mentally praised himself for leaving his stuff at home and blaming the smell on a convenience store he had been in, addressing the owner who had been smoking that morning. Of course this was a lie, but the teacher was stupid enough to believe the pitiful lie, sending Osamu on his way out. 

He was propped against the wall, head tilted upright as he crossed his arms over his body. He looked peaceful there, with his earbuds more than likely playing some form of arctic monkeys or pearl jam. Maybe he was listening to the 1975 this time, or U2, it could have been any of them. The sunlight bounced against his complexion, soaking him in a warm bath of melanin. His hair had been slightly tousled, more than likely the job of himself constantly running his hands through his hair. 

“What are ya still doing’ here,” Osamu asked him when he had finally approached him after ogling at him for a moment down the hall. 

“I heard you got called back, figured I wait around to go to practice with you.” Suna says as if it were nothing at all. Osamu would never admit it, but it meant more to him then words would even be able to begin to describe. 

“Ya coulda gon’ to practice,” Osamu mumbles, walking in sync with Suna now. 

“Got me out of warm up laps anyways.” His words are mysterious, not that getting out of warm up laps wasn’t a common occurrence for Suna, but to wait for Osamu, it just wasn’t typical of Suna. 

It surprised Osamu even more, when the next week after finishing a test late he found Suna waiting for him in the corridor, and every time after that. 

 -:-

“Do you ever think about what's going to happen when we graduate?” Suna asks quietly next to Osamu. They had been sitting at the skate park together, smoking accumulating between the two of them, as they talk quietly though they are the only ones here under the dim lights scattered around. 

“We graduate in a week and you want to start pondering what's going to happen in life?” Osamu laughs, taking another hit, lying against the cold cement. Suna doesn't say anything, staring directly in front of him. Osamu wonders what's going on inside of his head right now, though he doesn’t feel like he has the right to know. 

“Yeah,” He hums, “ I guess you're right.” 

But his words have something hidden behind them, something that Osamu can’t describe, but it twinges a wave of fear through him. The words felt cold, distant. He wants to ask, he wants to ask so badly if he’s okay, if there's something he can do if he is not. But he bites his lip and he doesn’t ask. 

He knows Suna too well at this point from the countless nights spent smoking together, the morning practices and pairings in class. He’s been to his hand more time then you’d even be able to count. He knows every little thing, like when he starts complaining more than he normally does, it's because he’s running on an empty stomach. And if his hands start shaking, it's never because he’s cold or because he’s angry, it's because he hasn’t gotten his daily dose of caffeine, and when he goes silent, it's never because he's sad, it's simply because he has nothing left to say. He hates when people talk too much, and it irritates him when people start singing for no apparent reason other than to just sing. He loves chuupet, and volleyball, and alternative music, and smoking. And he doesn’t care about much of anything else. 

But right now, as his eyes hold back the emotions he’s suppressing within himself, Osamu can see right through it, he can see the pain lingering in his grey-yellow eyes. He knows Suna will lie to him, because Suna’s thoughts were Suna’s thoughts alone. 

-:-

Osamu hated the way that the feeling never changed. It never let up, it never ceased. It only grew until the roots had entangled so deeply he could feel it crawling into his lungs branching out in a painstakingly slow ache. Suffocating him like he was ten feet under, buried beneath the surface of platonic smiles and thoughtless gestures. 

Some days he wished he would just say it. Three words, thats all it would take to assimilate this stupid feeling he couldn’t control. Three, simple, little words that hefted the weight of the world. 

In ways, it made him angry. Why couldn’t he just say it, why couldn’t he just tell the boy how he had truly felt. It was a simple feeling, and when the rejection came it would bide Osamu the time to figure himself out, to learn how to breathe again. But maybe that was it, maybe the reason he feared telling him the hardened truth of his feelings is because he knew deep down the rejection would kill him. It would make him lose any ounce of control he had built up, it would make him see red. He had already been hanging by the shreds of thread, if he exploited himself in this way there was no going back, there was going to be no more midnight smoke sessions, no more trips to the convenience store after practice, no more movie nights, no more him. 

Osamu felt constricted by the material wrapped around his body, was it hot in here? It was just him, the pouring rain against the window fogging it with each burst of coldness proving it to just be him. With a sigh, he slips the material off of his body, and throws it to the other side of the room. He’ll pick it up later, he tells himself when it hits the wall with a thud and silently falls to the ground below. 

He knows he won’t though. The pile of laundry that had been piling for the last month tells him exactly that. 

-:-

It's sticky in here, Osamu thinks. 

Its stick, and its muddy, and its hollow. It's packed to the brim with people, it's loud and annoying and they won’t shut up over the obnoxious thumping of whatever trash was blaring through the speakers set up through the house. And it's lonely. He knows Kita and Aran are over in the corner, arguing over who is going to be the designated driver, and he sees Atsumu’s talking to some boy with a mask over his face, thought Osamu notes how the boy looks out of place and uncomfortable (he feels the way this boy looks, but he wouldn’t ever voice that outloud) and he sees Suna. 

He’s sprawled against the leather couch, there's two girls, one on each arm, stuck to him like pesky little leeches, taking hits from his joint with those agonizing high pitched laughs. They were fake, he could see it from a mile a way, and he was sure Suna could see the same, but Suna wasn’t going to complain, not when later he’d mingle his way upstairs with one, if not both of them. 

It hurt Osamu to even think about it, and now the kitchen counter seemed to be pressing into his back more evidently, more uncomfortable then it had been before. He moves quietly outside, ditching the red solo cup that had been placed in his left hand, somewhere now scattered with the array of cups lining the counter. 

His hands pressed into the rail against the outside patio overlooking the backyard. Not as many people were here this time, only the couple in the corner who resembled suction cups and the scattered druggies doing harsher things than Osamu would ever even think about trying. Osamu couldn’t explain what was happening to him right now. 

Why did that suffocating feeling seem deeper, rougher now. Why did it feel like everything was breaking down. He didn’t understand why water had been leaking from his eyes, or why his breathing had picked up in pace, or why the red bleeding feeling felt like it was going to overcome his entire being. He just wanted out, but he couldn’t move. Paralyzed into holding onto that rail, knuckles burning white as he leaned over the edge slightly, rocking back and forth on his heel. 

He just wanted it to stop. He just wanted to breathe again. 

“Osamu,” He can hear the voice, but he can't make it out. It's more like white noise, like that shitty music in the background, or those girls laughing in Suna’s lap just moments ago. 

“Osamu,” He hears it again, it's louder this time, but the panic begins to trickle deeper inside of him, the rocking becoming more violent. Shaking his body in waves of unstoppable tremors, more tears relentlessly streaming down his face. 

“Osamu, hey, listen to me,” There are more words this time. He can feel someone's hand on his shoulder, he could hear the fear in their voice, as he slips further and further down this rabbit hold he can't climb out of. The world shifts for a moment however, and he feels his body slipping, he can’t tell if he’s being moved, but he feels the tugging at his wrist. The voice is yelling again, the music is louder, and Osamu can’t remember how, but somehow, someway, when he snaps from his daze, from that suffocating world of constant agony, he’s in a dimly lit room. 

Suna’s in front of him, his eyes are wide, and he has each hand on Osamu’s shaking shoulders. Atsumu is behind him, nervously biting his lip with his arms crossed against his chest in a worried manner. Kita is at the door with a glass of water, and other members of the team are hanging on at the door frame. All eyes were on him, and it made him feel even more constricted than before. 

“Make them go away,” He whispers, pulling his legs to his body, only now realizing the fetal position he had taken accustomed to on the floor. 

“Everyone out,” Suna says while standing up, pushing even his twin out the door, grumbles and groans following suit, a ‘hes my brother i should make sure he’s okay’ and a ‘he doesn’t need you to see him like this right now, it will only make him feel worse now get out’ before the room goes silent with only the bass from below shaking the floors and Suna’s shuffling from the door back over to him. 

“Are you okay,” He quietly asks, unsure of how he can help Osamu right now. 

Osamu doesn’t know how to respond, so instead he stays silent, he stays so quiet for so long he hopes that Suna will eventually get bored and take his leave. But Suna never does, he never moves from the squatted position in front of Osamu, he never takes his hand away from Osamus shoulder, he never stops the little circles he rubbing into the top of Osamu’s shoulder. 

It only hurts Osamu more, because it only makes him realize how much more in love with Suna he truly is. 

-:- 

“We did it.” Suna mumbles, kicking his feet against the wood chips surrounding the child's swing set him and Osamu had been sitting at. The sun had long since fallen, and the breeze picked up in their black graduation robes, the suits underneath the flimsy fabric enough to keep them warm. It had only been a few hours since they had been taking a plethora of pictures with family, walking across that damned stage and shaking hands with a principle they had only met enough to count on one hand alone. 

“I guess we did,” Osamu mumbles. He thinks back to only a week ago, back at the skatepark, the smoke, the atmosphere, the words that had left sunas lips that night. “Do you ever think about what's going to happen when we graduate?” 

Its only now Osamu truly understands what Suna was getting at. With one foot out the door they had their entire lives ahead of them now, bracing for impact for the true glories and misfortunes life had to offer them.

“I’m not gonna pursue Volleyball in college,” Osamu blurts, speaking softly as he watches the star twinkle in the sky. He had been thinking long and hard about this decision, fearing what the consequences may be of quitting a sport, he not only loved, but was good at. He can feel Suna’s head turn toward him. 

“Really?” 

Osamu stays quiet for a moment, “I love volleyball, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think I like it as much as ‘tsumu does, and it just doesn’t feel like my calling.” 

“What feels like your calling then?” Suna is quiet. 

“Not sure yet, but I do love food. Maybe I’ll travel, learn different food cuisines, or I’ll start my own shop, who knows where life will take me.” 

Suna goes quiet, his eyes trained down into his laps as each finger picks at the other, his chunky silver rings twirling and twisting with each fumble, “What if life won’t take you anywhere.” 

It was Osamu’s turn to snap his head in the direction of the brunette, curiosity laced in his emotions. Suna won’t look up at him, instead focusing still on his rings, playing with them gently, in particular the snake slithering up his middle finger, whose emerald eyes glare up at him.

“What do ya mean by that.” 

“What if...what if life doesn’t have anything planned for you, what if you're just there to take up space.” 

“Everyone is here fer a reason Suna. Everyone has a purpose, a cause, an effect. One day, yer gonna find yer life heading in directions ya love, and directions ya hate. But there’s always gonna to be a path waiting for ya, there’s always gonna to be somebody there too, to keep ya standing, to keep ya breathing,” Osamu was sure these were the wisest words to ever push past his lips. 

Sunas eyes bore into his now, they’re still on the swings, not even the gusts of wind can move them at this moment. Suna breathes out for a moment before taking off his snake ring, and gently opens up Osamu’s fingers before placing it in his hand. 

“The world is unforgiving, you’ll always be alone even when you’re surrounded by millions of people.” 

-:- 

It was exactly 2:46 am when Osamu had been disrupted from his sleep, pulled out of bed by the crying sounds of his phone, blaring out that ringtone he wished he could just smash at the wall. 

It was exactly 2:46 am when he heard Suna’s shaky heavy breath on the other line. 

It was exactly 2:47 am when he was running out the door, his shoes half on, his keys in one hand, his brother yelling from down the hall. 

It was 2:59 am by the time he had reached Suna’s front door, smashing through it at the speed of light. 

It was 3:00 Am by the time Osamu found him, mopped up by his own saliva, foam trickling from his mouth, his body convulsing in panic rages surrounded by pools of blood seeping from his wrists and pills sprawled across the floor. 

-:- 

Osamu hated hospitals. He hated the smell of antiseptics that flowed down each hall, and the way people walked in almost pure silence. He hated the way he would see people crumble on their knees the moment the doctor came out with that look on his face. He hated that hospitals go be the center of positivity and the bane of someone's worst nightmare at the same time. 

“How did we not know he wer’ gonna do something’ like this,” He hears from next to him, and with the lull of his head and the most deadpan expression Osamu mutters, “Shut up ‘tsumu.” 

And the silence overtakes them, and the entire waiting room is filled with people. So many people Osamu knew from school, and others from when he’d go over to Suna’s house after school. The hardest, perhaps in Osamus opinion, was Suna’s little sister. Her hair was in two separate braids, flicked up in different directions as her eyes were puffed out in an angry red color, glossed over by the tears that had long ago stopped falling. She hadn’t released her bottom lip from the grip her teeth had on it, her hands moving in her lap, similar to the way Suna’s had once fumbled. 

It chokes Osamu, suffocating him, but this time it's not because of the emotions he felt towards Suna. This time it was at the numbness that began to over encumber him leaving him void of any expression. 

-:- 

He couldn’t leave the chair at Suna’s beside when no one else was in the room, he always held his hand too then, even if the wires got in the way of him holding his brittle cold hands. The snake wrapped around his index finger now, curled up against the pale flesh Suna had silently offered to him. 

He was afraid he wasn’t going to wake up. Osamu knew this situation too well, he knew he would drown in this. It was his fault, wasn’t it. He should have picked up on the cues that night, he should have picked up on the cues the week before, or the months before that. He should have known when it started, instead, he was selfish. Instead he only focused on himself, on the feelings he tried to hide from the male next to him. If only he admitted his feelings, if only he had seen the bigger picture, maybe he would have seen Suna. 

Osamu hadn’t cried yet, though he had probably been the closest to Suna, he hadn’t let a tear slip yet, afraid that if he were too, then he would never stop. He brings Suna’s limp hand to his lips, leaving his lips to gently lay a kiss at the spot where Suna’s thumb and index finger were conjoined. 

“Come back to me Suna, I have something to tell you.” 

-:- 

He never missed a day, every single morning he embedded it into his routine to check in on Suna during the following months. He was always still breathing, but never awake. His heart always pumping, but his brain shut off. 

He just wanted Suna to wake up, to hold his hand instead of the other way around, he wanted Suna to know the truth, he wanted to hold him, and this time he would never let him slip. It was a promise Osamu always wanted to make to him. 

“I’ll be back later tonight, you’re mom asked me to drop some things off at your house for her, don’t wait up,” he tries to joke, but it doesn’t ease the feeling inside of him. He looks at the motionless body, his eyes were trained on his lips. Osamu had always wondered what they felt like, but he was sure between the stone cold air of the hospital and the lack of vanilla Chapstick Osamu always saw peeking out of Suna’s bag, that right now his lips would feel bitterly chapped.

It doesn’t stop him from leaning in, to place his own against Suna, just slightly away from his lip however, and onto the silky smooth skin that lie at Suna’s cheek. 

He’d kiss him for real when he woke up. 

-:-

“The key is under the mat, Osamu thank you so much for doing this, I just...I can’t go into his room right now, I haven’t been able to for months,” Suna’s mothers voice was strained, cutting in and out from the sobs she was trying her best to hold back. 

“It’s okay Mrs. Rintarou, I’m glad to help.” 

And the line goes dead as Osamu hangs up with a simple click to the red button as his hand slips under the welcome mat to find the spare key awaiting him. He pushes the key in and the stagnant air hits him like a brick as he steps through the doorway, discarding his shoes at the front entryway. He looks down the hall, his memories flashing back to that moment, as if it were all in slow motion, like it had been happening all over again. 

Osamu shakes his head as he slowly steps down the hall, making a left before the sealed off bathroom, and walking into the room he hoped he’d never have to step into again. If he thought the front door had been a pile of bricks, then his room had to be the cement burning him into the earth. 

“Dude shut up, it was one time.” Suna laughs, throwing pieces of the popcorn from the round bowl in his arms at Osamu. 

“Oh yeah, just once,” He mimics in a sarcastic tone, throwing the popcorn back at Suna. Suna rolls his eyes and goes back to scrolling aimlessly at his phone. Osamu was lying stomach down on the floor, and angled that if Suna looked over, he would absolutely see the younger miya twin staring up at him, but how could he not when the sun was glowing so effortlessly against the boys skin. 

He could trace every curve along Suna’s defined face in this lighting, burning this image of him into the back of his skull. 

Osamu blinks, reality setting in around him that he now stood in the room alone, the basket of clothes Suna had arrived at the hospital now lying in the plastic bag, taking up needless space inside of his hospital room.  He just needed to set it in the corner and leave, that was his only job, nothing more, nothing less. 

But Osamu’s eyes flicker too far to the right, and an envelope neatly placed in the center of Suna’s desk fills his vision. He knows what it is, that's obvious enough from the placement of the paper. When his legs wander to the table, he wishes he had just turned on his heel and left right then. But when his vision is evoked with the letting of Suna’s familiar scribble and his name adoring the empty space of the white canvas, Osamu loses his control to stay strong, and the first tear falls. The second when his hands unseal the back of the envelope, the third when he pulls the letter from the pouch, and the fourth when he reads 

Dear Osamu.

Its not your fault. 

And I love you too, even though I should have said it allowed. 

I love you so dearly.

I’ve lost my fight, but please don’t lose yours. 

Suna. 

He didn’t know when the showers from his eyes began as he collapsed down to the floor, holding the letter closely to his chest as he screams out. For the first time in months, he screams out the pain blocking him, the pain consuming him. 

He doesn’t even have the time to process this information, because that ringtone flares up again, just like it had done that night. 

“H-hello?” Osamu says as he picks up, unsure of the caller id, he couldn't care to look at this point. 

“He woke up Sumu. He’s awake.” 

And just like his legs carried him out of the house that night, he’s sprint full force to his car and sliding into the driver's seat, turning the key into the ignition and speeding down the road recklessly past the stop sign. 

He should have stopped. 

-:- 

“Where’s Osamu,” Suna croaks out, it's the first thing he’s said, the vision of Osamu bleakly pulling into his memory. 

“He’s on his way, he’ll be here any minute,” Suna’s mother says, with joyous tears in her eyes. 

-:- 

“Where’s Osamu.” 

“There was an accident.” 

-:- 

Suna was wrapped in the navy blue sweater Osamu had given to him, tightly secure in the knitted fabric as his white collar shirt peeked out from the bottom of it, contrasting against his dark jeans. His long legs were wrapped up to his chest, his head softly laying in between his knees. 

“It would have been easier if I couldn’t remember you,” he whispers, “You were like a drug you know. You were heaven to have, a high I’ll never get back now that you're gone.” 

He stares at the stone in the grass carefully watching the flowers he had set up hours ago sway with the wind, “We’d probably be smoking right now, except we’d be closer. Sometimes I imagine the way it would feel to have you laid across my lap.” 

Suna can feel the tears now, “I wish I never woke up, I wish I had gone that night, you’d still be here, and it should have gone the way it was supposed to.” 

He can almost hear his words in the back of his mind. Everyone has a purpose, a cause, an effect. He sniffles slightly as he brushes his finger past his nose with his sweater hanging past his fingers, “You would have told me otherwise...wouldn’t you Osamu.” 

[tenaciousarcadeexpert]

Criminal Minds-The Good Ol’ Days

Tagging: @marvelfanlife​, @itsmeedee​, @cynbx​, @jaqren​, @gabriellewritermua​, @princesswagger15​, @screaminginbi​, @tleighstone12​, @cosmicmelaninflower​

A collaboration fic with @princesswagger15​.

Chapter 8-Wicked Game

“I mean, it’s not like he knows that we broke in, right?” Elle awkwardly chuckled.

“Well, it becomes a serious problem when he wonders how his journal was missing in the same day his students broke in his cabin.” “What are you trying to say, Hotch?” Ashley asked.

Hotch looked at the rest of the group. “I hate to say this, but we were in the cabin where the journal was still there. Once we left, it was gone.” “That means……” “ Someone here must have stolen the journal. One of us.”

Everyone looked at each other with shock and distrust. Someone has stolen something vital to Rossi and it was all on them. The actions of one person endangers the rest of the group. They just need to figure out who had stolen Rossi’s journal, and why.

“One of us is a suspect, we need to know who is responsible for Rossi’s journal and why they did. Which is why we need to all come clean.”

“Well, it sure ain’t me.” Derek blurts out.

“It’s not me, i wasn’t aware of the situation yet.” Marissa explained.

“Uh yea, Marissa, we know you had nothing to do with this. You don’t need to rub it in.” Hotch scolds her before looking at the rest of the group. “But everyone else here is a possible suspect.”

“Okay, well Hotch you didn’t need to be rude alright? And plus, there’s no reason anyone here would steal Rossi’s journal! No one here has a bone to pick with him, at least that i know of.”

“Hmmmmm, or maybe they do.” Derek looks around before stopping at Emily. “I know you didn’t get along with Rossi when he chose you to stay after class.”

“What?! You’re blaming me!? WHY?”

“Come on, it’s always the one who has the most beef against the professor. I know you and the professor sometimes butt heads a couple of times before.”

“Yeah, me and Rossi have our moments but i’d NEVER do that to him!”

“Whatever you say, Prentiss.”

“Hey, and this is coming from the guy who sometimes looks like he’s about to sleep in his class?”

“Why are you trying to pin this on me?”

“You try to pin this on me. Which means you’re trying to frame me for something I didn’t do.”

“Oh and that makes me guilty?”

“Well, I’d hate to point fingers, but yeah, yeah you are.”

Before they could continue to fight, JJ and Matt step in between them.

“Woah woah woah, guys, stop this. Fighting isn’t gonna get us anywhere.”

“I agree with Matt, we should hear one another out before mauling each other to death.”

“Or are you just saying that cause you have something to hide JJ?”

“Excuse me? I-”

“And what about you Matt? Do you have anything to hide?

“What? HELL NO! This is getting WAAY out of control man!”

“Hey, you’re the one talking M-” Just then, everyone started to clamor in, pointing fingers at each other, blaming the other. Just when the fighting won’t stop, Hotch clencehed his fists and took a deep breath. “ENOUGH!” He yelled. “Look, one of us here is a thief. True, but this is not how we find out who the person is. JJ and Matt have a point. Maybe if we all speak out on what we were all doing in the cabin, we might have a chance of figuring out who could it be.”

“And how do we know that you’re not the one who has Rossi’s journal?” “Woah there Seaver. We need to talk this out before we can start pointing fingers.” He paused. “And no, I don’t have his journal.” “Well, someone here does.”

“Wait wait wait! When Rossi went to go get his journal, he went towards the back of the cabin by the bedrooms! Who was searching in the bedrooms?”

“There was me…….Ashley, and Kate.” Matt responds. “But I swear that I didn’t touch the journal.”

“Yeah, and at the time, I didn’t know there even was a journal.” Kate jumps in.

The rest of the gang stared at Ashley, much to her shock and disbelief.

“What?! Look, I was in the bedroom, yes, did I see the journal? Yes! But I made sure that it didn’t leave the room when we left, I swear!”

“What do you think Hotch?” Emily asked.

Hotch looked at Matt again. “Are you sure you guys were the only three there? No one else could’ve hid in the room or anything?”

“Yes, it was just us.”

“Alright, this is some weird shit man.”

“Well…..I hate to say this, but one of us is lying. Someone has to come clean….eventually you all need to come clean.”

The gang all muttered and looked around in frustration.

“So what now, Hotch?”

“I don’t know. I guess we should all wait, till someone speaks up or the journal somehow appears. We should all meet up...after lunch. We should all look out for one another until then. Other than that, let’s go and take care of our business. Any questions?”

No one else answered and shook their heads.

“Cool, I guess this is it. Oh, and stay sharp. Who knows where the journal could pop up.”

“Got it.”

They all part ways, following the revelation of Rossi’s journal.

    A few hours later since the morning at Rossi’s cabin. Still, Tara couldn’t get her mind off the journal. It was only a matter of a moment when she heard Emily echoed her name.

“Tara!” “Yes?” “Is everything alright? You’ve spent the last few minutes fidgeting with your pen….So, unless you’ve been stumped and staring at the same question for a while, do you want to talk about it?”

She placed her book to the side. “I just can’t stop thinking about it…….at the cabin with Rossi. He seemed pretty open than he was in class. You can only imagine how much he’s been: First he lost his friend, then his classroom gets destroyed, now he lost his journal. So much has happened to him.”

Emily pressed her lips. “Yeah, I pity the old man. Although I still don’t get the big whuff about his journal. I mean he can always get a new one, can he?”

“Em.” Tara brushed her wrist. “To you, it may be just another book, but to someone like Rossi, that journal holds sentimental value to him. Judging by the way he reacted, that book was pretty important to him. Something so simple could be worth more to someone else.” She then pulls out a small necklace. “Like this locket. Pretty isn’t it, it was given to me by my mother, long before she……..left us. On the outside, it may be a pretty necklace, but to me, this is what I have left of my mother.” She paused. “Though even though

“You have a point.” She nods. “Mm hmph.”

“Too bad I don’t have anything valuable to me.” “I’m sure there’s is, it’s usually something you’re unable to give up.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Emily continues to stare at Tara.

“What?”

“Y-you’d never stole his journal, would you?”

She shook her head. “No, why would I do that?” “I didn’t say that you did, I’m just being…..cautious.” “I get it……..what about you, you didn’t steal it, did you?” She shook her head. “N-never. Besides, a person would only steal a journal if they have some sort of agenda against Rossi.” “Guess so…...I wonder who could it be?” “Don’t know, but they’re out there. We just need to figure out who it was.”  

    Elsewhere, Stephen was looking for some books at the library. While scrimmaging through different books, he stops to pull out a thick textbook with a gold hard-cover lining. As he pulls out the heavy textbook, a small book with a leather cover. Curious, he picked it up, brushing the dust off from the cover, where he noticed someone’s name embedded onto the cover.

“Property of David Rossi……...Rossi.” He looked around to see if anyone was watching before grabbing the journal and his textbook before fleeing. Just as he was about to leave, he almost bumps into Kate.

“Woah, Kate. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay….Are you going somewhere? You seem to be in a hurry.” “Yeah, I have an exam from my Western Civilizations class tomorrow, so I just need to do some last minute studies before I take the exam.”

“Oh okay, good luck tomorrow.” “Thanks.” Stephen was about to leave when he turned back. “Uh, also….you don’t happen to know where Professor Rossi is, do you?” Kate glanced at him before shaking her head. “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?” “J-just wondering.”

“Oh okay.” “Yeah…...oh and I was wondering if you’re free tonight. I figured that we can go get some tacos tonight, if you’re interested.” “Aw, is Stephen Walker asking me out?” He chuckled. “Well, maybe, but we’ll just get some tacos. If that’s okay.” “Hmmm, I like tacos.”

“Cool, so we’ll meet outside the campus center at 7:00. Don’t miss it.” “Okay, that sounds nice.” “Nice……...so, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon. Take care.” Just as Stephen walked away, Kate leaned back and felt a sense of uncertainty from him. She glanced back to see a small book with a page peeking out from Stephen’s arms. Why was he asking for Rossi? Is there a reason that he needed to see him? She then shrugged it off and walked away, grabbing a book and taking a seat at the tables.

“Did Stephen just asked you out?” She looked to see Ashley standing in front of her with her head slightly tilted and her arms crossed.

“Yes.” “Wow. You must be thrilled.” “I know. We’re gonna go get some tacos later on.” “That sounds nice.” Kate nods as she continues to read, while Ashley leans her hands on the table. “Did he say anything else?” “Not really…….” She placed her book down. “Although, he did ask me if I knew where Professor Rossi was.” Ashley squint her eyebrows. “ Why? Why would he want to meet with him?” “I don’t know….but I do have this uneasy feeling about it.” “Me too…..though maybe it’s just our instincts getting the better of us.” “Guess so.”

    Elsewhere, Hotch was walking through the girl’s dorm, stopping by to visit Haley when he knocks on the door. To his surprise the door was slightly open and decided to enter, only to see Kristy scrimmaging through her drawers where she was startled by the unexpected appearance of Hotch. “Oh Kristy! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to barge in like this-” “Hotch! What the hell are you doing here?” She was in her pajamas, though her hair was slightly damp, implying that she had just took a shower.

“Sorry, I-I was looking for Haley.” “Well, you’re gonna have to wait, cause she has drama club at this time.” “Oh okay.” “Although Hotch, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you want to talk to Haley?” “Oh, I uh, just wanted to uhhhhhhh, ask her out.”

“So that’s why you ca-” “Yeah, I-uh, thought she’d be here.” He shrugged his arms. “Guess I was wrong haha.”

“So…….you like her.”

“Uh yea….I do.” She chuckled.“Oh. Well, if you want, I could leave her a message.” “Okay. Thanks.” Before he could leave, Kristy stops him.

“And Hotch.” “Yea?” “H-How’s Matt? I haven’t seen him all day.”

“He’s alright, he went to go throw some hoops.” “Oh okay……..is everything alright? You seemed….tense.” Hotch clutched his chest. “Yeah, I uh had a long day. I figured that I could loosen up a bit for tonight.” “Yeah well, you do that, and I’ll tell Haley the news.” “Okay later, and sorry for barging in.” “It’s fine, it could’ve been worse.” She watched as Hotch left the room. “You could’ve seen me in nothing but a towel and I’d be humiliated….” She muttered as she went back to rearranging her stuff in her drawers. “Haley would freak….and Matt would kill you for seeing me like this.” Once she was done, she then slammed the door shut. “Next time, I need to lock that door.” A few hours have passed and Kate had just rushed outside of the campus center as she looked at her watch.

“59…….7:00, just on time.” She smiled as she looked around, waiting for Stephen.

At the same time, Blake had just finished up and was driving out.

“Yeah, everything was fine, although one person wasn’t able to know the difference between ‘gato’ and ‘gauteux’. Yeah, one means cat in Spanish and the other means cake in French.” She chuckled as she continues to drive. “Yeah well, I…..have to to call you back, love you.” She hangs up as she sees smoke coming from the usual exit route. As the smoke starts to clear up, she sees a wreckage of red camry off on the side of the road.  

“Oh my god.” She exits out the car as she walked over to the wreckage. As she looked for whoever was inside, she froze as inside lies an unconscious and badly wounded Stephen, with his head up against the car window.

[concussed-to-pieces]

For The Pack; Part Two

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Baron Corbin/Roman Reigns/Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Who's thirsty?! I've missed you guys! Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes, KING CAPTAIN @hardcorewwetrash and the leading authority on A/B/O, @writergrrrl29. Enjoy!

Part One

!WARNING!: This is of the Alpha/Beta/Omega variety, and involves knotting.

The hardest part was telling your parents.

You usually ended up staying with your folks over the summer to save money, unmated as you had been. When you called to tell them that you wouldn’t be returning to your old room, it was like a bomb went off.

“And why not?!” Your father’s Alpha voice boomed over the phone, making you grimace. Baron looked up from his laptop, a snarl jerking at his lip. Roman glanced at him, seeming a little startled at his sudden reaction.

“I’m staying with my mates, Dad. I’m…I’m mated now.” You confessed. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Mated? You…since when? Did you present? When the hell did this happen?”

“That’s none of his fucking business.” Baron grunted under his breath, quiet enough that the phone didn’t pick it up. Roman nodded in agreement.

“Can I talk with Mom, please?” You asked over your father’s sputtering, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Put Mom on the line.”

“Hey, I’m the Alpha in this household! I-! Yes it’s them, w…honey I was…fine. Here’s your mother.”

“How’s my favorite pumpkin doing?”

“Hi Mom.” You felt relief wash over you. Normally if your parents scrapped you got caught in the middle, but your mother sounded like she was in a good mood. “I’m doing pretty well. Just wanted to let you guys know I won’t be staying at home this summer.”

“Did it finally happen?” Your mother asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I um…” Omega tangled up in your throat, turning your reply into an awkward mumble of, “I’m a…I’m a Beta.” You didn’t mean to lie, it just kind of…happened. Both Roman and Baron looked up at that, Baron’s frown deepening while Roman just appeared confused. But your parents would never accept an Omega child! They were both Alphas. It would be too flimsy of a lie to claim to be an Alpha as well. A Beta would squeeze by. Maybe.

Your mother sounded ready to burst. “Oh pumpkin, what good news! I had a feeling you know, your cousin was just the same. Both parents Alpha but they produced that tough little Beta. I’m sure it’s a massive weight off your shoulders to not have to worry about that anymore, especially since you’re a Beta. Best of both worlds, no Alpha responsibilities and none of that...heat business. You met your mate at school? Tell me all about him!”

Your head was spinning and you sat down, pressing a hand to your aching forehead as you did your best to humor your nosy, well-meaning mother. She made a noise of disbelief when you revealed that you had not one, but two mates, both Alphas. Your father popped in and out of the conversation via speakerphone, inserting an invitation to a weekend stay between your mother’s flustered gushing and your own quiet answers.

“Are they there, can I talk to them?” She finally asked.

You tensed up. “Uh, n-no they had…football stuff. To do. Practice. You know, sports things.” Baron growled, narrowing his eyes as you made a pleading be quiet gesture. “They have to perform well to keep scholarships and stuff, it's all very official. Look, I have to run, Mom. I'm going to be late for a...study hall. I'll talk to you soon, okay? I love you.” You hung up the phone and dropped your head into your hands, groaning loudly. “They want us to come stay for the weekend. They want to meet you guys.” You muttered through your fingers.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “They think we’re up to no good or something? You’re acting like this is a death sentence.”

“I panicked.” You wiped at your eyes. “I don’t want you guys to think I’m ashamed of either of you or what I am. But I…look, Omegas have a reputation, I’m not stupid. I know how my parents will react if they know I’m an Omega.”

“How will they react?” Baron’s voice had dipped into a deadly serious tone.

“I know they won't react well, that's for sure. They might disown me, they might try to keep me locked up or something to save family face. I grew up on stories of Omegas like everyone else. I know I’m a menace, possibly a homewrecker. I’m supposed to be a flirt, I’m supposed to be able to lure guys like you two into my bed so you can knock me up and I can make more Alpha babies and then make problems when your actual mates show up. I know what I’m supposed to do, okay?” You snapped, hating yourself for doing so.

“Hey, hey.” Roman tugged you in between he and Baron, snuffling over your hair. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Baron offered no comforting words, just wrapped his arm around your shoulders and hugged you tightly to his side. He rubbed his jaw against your cheek, scent marking you. You nuzzled into his neck and Roman sighed heavily, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“It’s just more bullshit Alpha crap.” Baron said quietly. “My parents were into it too. Parading my huge ass in front of relatives like I was the cream of the crop. Shit, they tried every trick in the book to get me to present.”

“I presented when I was six, man. I’ve got nothing.” Roman grimaced. “Did they dose you up?”

“Oh hell, the herb mixture? Yeah, fuck that shit. Was like fuckin’ quinine, awful.” Baron made a disgusted face. “First the herbs. Then doctors visits, charms. I had the fuckin’ circles, candles, talismans, you name it, they tried it. They wanted to label me so bad, you have no idea.” Baron fell silent again, staring at the floor and rubbing your shoulder.

“We have to go.” Roman said after another minute. “If we don’t, your parents will think you’re lying about everything, not just the Beta thing. You can’t afford for that to happen. So we’ll go, right Corbin?”

“Yeah, we’ll go.” Baron replied, a little more clipped than normal. “We won’t abandon our Omega. Our Omega.” He stressed the word, locking eyes with you.

You mustered up a weak smile. “Thank you. Both of you.”

“Also, 'sports stuff'? We're hurt. At least call it 'drills' or 'scrimmage'. Sheesh.” Roman scolded, getting a half-smirk out of Corbin and a giggle from you.

…

Your mother met you at the door with a warm hug, smiling fondly. “And how is my favorite only child?”

“I’m fine Mom, it’s good to see you. I’d like to introduce my mates, Baron and Roman.”

“Such handsome men! Good thing you’re a Beta, how else would you keep up?” Your mother winked and you flushed with shame. “I’m the mom around here. It’s so nice to meet you! You’ll have to forgive them for being such a late bloomer. Their father and I did everything we could to speed the process but…these things take time.”

You could feel Baron straighten up behind you, the larger Alpha all but smothering you with his closeness. Roman, on the other hand, seemed totally at ease, accepting your mother’s hug quickly. “We were okay with it. Things could have gotten dicey if we hadn’t both been there at the time of the imprint.” Roman pointed out. “I mean, last semester Baron and I were in opposite dorms. I’d say everything worked out just fine.”

“Hello boys.” Your father put his hands on your mother's shoulders, easing her to the side. “Would you like to come in? You'll have to forgive her, she's a little excitable for an Alpha.”

“Oh I'm sorry, is this not our only child coming home with their mates? I guess I'll just go sit in the living room and do some cross stitch and not be invested in my child's life.” Your mother snapped. You cringed while your parents glared daggers at one another.

Roman squeezed your hand as if to say it's alright.

Oddly, Baron was the one to break the uncomfortable stare down by stepping forward and extending a hand to your father. “Baron Corbin, sir. Number sixty-eight, offensive lineman, Golden Gloves boxing champion. Various other accolades in my high school career. I have Alpha documentation that my family can present, should the need arise.” His tone was positively icy. “It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Your father appeared to have been suddenly struck dumb, shaking Baron's hand quickly. Which was just as well, because you were too. Your mother tittered, seeming a little confused. You'd never witnessed anyone shutting down your parents with such obvious intent.

Roman cleared his throat. “Um, Roman Reigns. Number ninety-six, defensive tackle. My parents can also provide documentation, if uh, if you guys want it.” He grimaced. “We have an imprint witness, if you need that too.”

“No no, sweetheart please. We just got a little carried away, I promise we aren't one of those families!” Your mother protested, ushering everyone inside. “Documentation isn't necessary, we're just happy they have a mate, two mates even!”

Dinner was monumentally awkward, your father almost dead silent as your mother chit-chatted with Roman and Baron and you picked at your food. How on earth were you supposed to survive this weekend?!

Your mother finally asked for your father's help in making her trifle for dessert, excusing the two of them to the kitchen.

“You okay?” Roman muttered over your head to Baron. “You got real formal earlier, man. Remember, we're supposed to be making this easier for them.”

“I know.” Baron slid his hand up your back beneath your shirt, rubbing in small circles here and there. You had relaxed at his touch, but suddenly he unhooked your bra, making you freeze. He then leaned in and whispered, “You are our Omega. We don’t want you to be ashamed of that.”

“I’m not, what the heck are you doing?” You hissed, glancing at the kitchen doorway. Your parents would be back any second, was Baron crazy?! He dragged his fingers up your stomach and then slipped them into your bra, making you suck in a breath. He toyed with your nipple for an agonizing minute, running slow circles over it with his index finger and smirking as it peaked.

Roman was apparently in on the plan as well, his own hand under the table to shove up your skirt and play with the waistband of your panties. You covered your mouth to stifle your whimper of don't stop, torn between fearing your father’s repercussions and wanting your Alphas hands on your body. “Omega, only you could love enough for the both of us. Only you could be this hungry just from us touching you.” Roman murmured, “Our Omega. No Beta could handle us.”

Not crazy, you realized, they didn’t like that I lied.

“Cutie, do you want to know what we’re going to do to you this weekend?” Baron asked softly. “We’re going to show you exactly why a Beta wouldn’t be good for us, why we need you. Understood?”

“Starting right now, with your parents in the other room.” Roman added, two fingers tugging down your panties and pressing into your body swiftly. You gasped, grabbing the edge of the table. “Gonna’ take care of our needy Omega like good Alphas should.” He whispered.

Both Roman and Baron resumed eating their dinner as your parents footsteps drew near, Baron’s hand pulling your thigh against his own while Roman’s fingers curled inside you. You squirmed in your seat and Baron’s grip tightened. He traced 'OK?' into your thigh, raising an eyebrow when you nodded furiously. He then proceeded to place the heel of his sneaker against the inside of your ankle, pinning your leg. Roman mirrored the motion on your other leg, leaving you spread wide open beneath the table.

For all intents and purposes Roman looked totally focused on his food. The only real indicator that he was up to something was the little satisfied noises that he kept making into his meal. If you hadn't been so wound you probably would have gotten the giggles. As such you had to keep your tight hold on the table, biting your lip to stay silent while your slick pooled around his fingers. He was teasing, just gently pulsing and shifting his fingers inside you, the heel of his palm rocking back and forth over your clit.

Baron had engaged your mother in a conversation about her trifle recipe, your father piggybacking into the talk in a transparent (and no doubt in vain) effort to impress Baron. You bucked your hips under the table and you felt the solid curve of muscle in Baron's calf twitch nervously against your leg. Roman dug his fingers in, stroking firmly up towards your stomach while you tilted your pelvis, slouching a little in your chair. You could barely bring yourself to care, slipping a hand down to cover Roman's so you could grind against his palm fiercely. You heard his breath catch in his throat and a surge of warmth flooded your body, sending familiar tingles down your legs as you tried not to shudder visibly.

Roman carefully slid his hand free once you had relaxed, bumping his jaw against your cheek in an affectionate gesture. He then pushed some of the trifle onto his spoon with his thumb, licking his fingers innocently.

You were more than shocked at the fact that he'd been able to get you off, essentially silently, with your parents right across the table. Roman had never struck you as a particularly subtle individual, always the louder of your two Alphas. You chanced a sideways look at Baron, noting the smug little smile he wore. Oh, they had put some thought into this, Baron running interference while Roman did what he would.

“Pumpkin, are you feeling okay? You're all flushed.” Your mother asked worriedly.

You nodded, straightening up and pressing a hand to your own cheek. “I'm fine, just a little tired from the trip is all. Sorry I'm not much for conversation.” You apologized.

Baron took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his smile softening. “Should we hit the hay earlier tonight? I know you wanted to show us the neighborhood tomorrow morning for our run.”

“Oh, you all run together? That's so sweet!” Your mother seemed perfectly content to embrace whatever came out of Baron's mouth. He must have asked her in-depth questions about her recipe, that sly, overgrown punk.

“It's a community sort of exercise, served us pretty well overall.” Roman shrugged. “Morning or night, doesn't matter as long as you're pounding the pavement with your pack, right?”

“Very true.” Your father agreed. “Almost forgot you were over there, big fella'. Baron's been dominating the conversation.”

“Hey, somebody's got to.” Baron shot back defensively, his smile vanishing. “Plus, I really wanted that recipe. Trying to expand my arsenal for when we have an actual kitchen at our disposal.”

“I'm totally fine with Big Banter doing the talking, great stuff comes out of his mouth once you get him started.” Roman grinned, reaching around you to bump Baron's shoulder with his fist. “And his toaster oven cooking is already leaps and bounds ahead of mine. You ought to try his Gouda panini. Amazing.”

“Reigns is talking it up. I make grilled cheese.” Baron dismissed, making both yourself and Roman huff.

“You make fancy grilled cheese.” You corrected, getting a quick chuckle out of the taller Alpha. “Fancy, delicious, gooey, melt-in-your-mouth grilled cheese.”

“We don't even have a toaster oven, could I do them under the broiler?”

Your father groaned at your mother's question, shoving his chair back from the table and beginning to collect the dirty plates from the table. “Give me a hand clearing the table, will you Roman? I swear to God, some Alphas around here should be Betas.” He grumbled.

To their credit, Baron totally ignored his barb and Roman did hesitate before opening his mouth. For about two seconds. “Look, if Baron keeps me well-fed, I don't care if he's an Alpha, Beta or an Omega. He'd bring nothing less to our relationship. Right, Big Banter?” Roman gave Baron a pointed look. Corbin had a death grip on your hand under the table.

“Yeah.” Baron replied finally, tilting his head a little. “I mean, we'd be thrown together no matter what, I don't think it really makes any sense for me to deny what I'm good at just to fit some preconceived idea of what Alpha is. I'm good at cooking, I like doing it. Just like Roman is good at keeping our space clean, and your kid is good at teaching. That's how we met, you know, they helped us out because we were failing our English class.” Baron started telling the story of Braun to your mother while your father sulkily shuffled the dishes to the kitchen. Roman kissed your cheek, patted Baron’s shoulder and got to his feet to join your father in the other room.

…

“You must be fucking wiped out.” Roman said worriedly. Baron had curled up on your bed the second you shut the door to your room, abandoning his normally-stoic exterior for the moment. “I know that was way more talking and interaction than we agreed on. I'm sorry, man.”

“It was worth it. I just need to recharge now.” Baron sounded exhausted. Social engagements always left him drained and either needing space or more care than usual. You immediately went to work kneading the knots in his shoulders and neck, feeling the stiffness in his motions. He hummed into the bedspread, relaxing slightly. “Was it worth it for you, cutie?” He mumbled.

You nodded shyly, forgetting that he couldn't see you. “It was definitely unexpected.”

“We figured you could use some reassuring. My parents weren't as bad as Baron's, but they still did some of that goofy, 'Betas and Omegas are inferior' stuff.” Roman looked sad. “We know you're not inherently beneath us, and we're not above you just because you surrender to us. Okay?”

“Okay.” You paused, continuing your motions. “I...Thank you for sticking up for me. Both of you.”

“You're our mate. Your well-being is important to us.” Baron said simply. “I expect you guys to be on your A game when we have to visit my parents. I'm not lying to them about you. Maybe we'll mess with them though, say that Roman is the Omega. He's good-looking, right? Built to ensnare or whatever.”

“I dunno' if I'm Omega levels of good-looking.” Roman smiled, tipping your chin up so he could kiss you. “You, on the other hand. Jesus. That was hot earlier.”

You blushed, looking down at Baron's back. The larger Alpha beneath you nodded as best as he could. “Damn right, that play was well executed. Did you like us working together, cutie?”

“Oh gosh, I...well, yeah. Yes. Absolutely. I...I mean, it's kind of embarrassing to say, but I loved the way you guys put your legs over mine to keep me still.” You confessed, your belly twisting nervously. “I was all open and defenseless but it wasn't...scary? I don't know, really. You two make me feel safe.”

“That's good. That's what we're all here for.” Baron said approvingly. “Making each other feel safe, like everything is okay.”

“Alright, scoot over. I'm tired too.” Roman flopped down on the comforter. He tugged you into his arms, snuggling you for a moment and then releasing you so you could get dressed for bed. “You're so pretty when you're coming apart for us, you know that?”

It was still strange to you how open Roman was sometimes. You smiled, kissing his forehead. “You two are the good-looking ones. You make my job easy.” Some rummaging in your old dresser secured a well-worn pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. You debated on the shirt for a second or two. Usually the more skin contact, the better when it came to Baron and Roman. But you would hate for your parents to accidentally walk in on anything that could upset them.

There's nothing wrong about laying in bed with your mates, your brain protested, shirtless or not! You frowned and pulled the tank top over your head. You drifted off quickly when you laid back down between them, lulled to sleep by the familiar sound of Baron's deep breathing and soon enough, Roman's rumbling snore.

A dream of sensation slowly crept into your sleeping mind. Large hands on you, gently gripping here and there. Fingers stroked your hair and you nuzzled into the touch, making a pleased noise. There was the press of lips on the inside of your right thigh, soft, tender kisses and nips making a trail from your knee upwards. It was Roman, you could tell even in your dream, and then Baron started up on your left thigh. The feeling of his chin strap of facial hair contrasted wildly with Roman's goatee, helping you differentiate even with your eyes closed.

You arched your back lazily, stirring to consciousness under the ministrations of your Alphas.

“I've dreamed about doing this to you.” Roman whispered, “We've dreamed about doing this to you. Will you let us?”

His hair slipped through your fingers, always so hard to keep hold of.

“Cutie, he asked you a question.” Baron's voice thrummed through your body. “We asked you a question.” You cupped his cheek and he laid his head on your thigh, purring in his throat at your touch.

You opened your eyes, met with the sight of your Alphas looking up at you expectantly. You nodded, smiling sleepily at them. “Mmhm.”

“If you're too tired, we can leave you alone.” Roman said softly. “It's just been a long day for us and you. Makes us feel stronger if we can give you something. Together, y'know.”

“Mm, yes please.” Your voice was a drowsy plea, and you watched Roman swallow hard while Baron growled quietly.

“God, you’re so pretty.” Roman murmured, Baron’s fingers hooking into the tops of your pajama shorts and peeling them off as the other Alpha spoke. “Always eager for us, always good to us. How did we get so lucky?”

“We are yours, all fucking yours. Don’t forget that.” Baron lapped at the curve of your hip, nipping the soft area until you squirmed underneath him. “You’re ours to tease and love and mate, and we are all fucking yours, cutie.”

Roman put your right leg over his shoulder, playfully nudging his nose against your folds. Then Baron was spreading you open for him, large fingers slicked already by your dreamy longing. Roman bit his lip, looking up at you for a second before lowering his mouth to you.

You arched your back at the feeling of Roman’s eager tongue on your pussy, Baron’s satisfied snarl loud in your ears. “Oh cutie, fuck. You are literally the best thing I’ve ever seen. Best thing we’ve ever seen. S’ a fucking privilege to be in this fuckin’ bed.” You whimpered when Baron bumped his forehead into Roman’s temple, Roman pausing so Baron could lick over your clit with sharp little lashes of his tongue. Roman dove back in before Baron was done, the sensation of both their mouths tangling in the absolute best way possible. Baron nibbled on your lips while Roman stroked your entrance with his tongue, the two of them devouring you with single-minded purpose. Roman’s hand was firm on your hip, holding you as still as he could manage.

You threw your head back, pressing a fist to your mouth in an effort to keep quiet. You had no idea what time it was, no idea whether your parents were still awake, and the last thing you wanted was them waking up to your Alphas making love to you with their mouths.

Roman was achingly tender, trying to keep eye contact while he sloppily devoured your cunt, trying to watch your face while he ate you out. Baron was obviously attempting to be quiet, his usual growls and grunts of satisfaction half-stifled as he suckled gently at your clit and pressed kisses to the curve of your pubic mound when Roman pushed him out of the way.

There was a breathless pause when you were on the very edge of orgasm, teetering in the sweetest pain you had ever experienced. Roman looked at Baron, and Baron looked at Roman, everything coming to a halt for a second. You weren't sure who leaned in first, all you knew was that suddenly their mouths met with intent and the heat behind their kiss made you whine and jerk your hips up. Roman hummed, grabbing a handful of Baron’s hair to hold him still. “Huh.” He said when they finally parted, staring at Baron. “You...yeah? That's okay?”

Baron nodded slowly, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Hell yeah.”

You knew then that you had found something truly rare in your mates, a trio bond of equal affection. You sat up, propping your body up on your elbows as you begged for a kiss, something to finish you off.

Baron was first, fingers taking over on your pussy so he could give you a taste of yourself. Roman followed suit, thumb circling your clit in white-hot rotations as he nipped at your lower lip, then pressed kisses to Baron’s neck. The larger Alpha accidentally groaned a little louder, flushing in the dim streetlight glow from the window. You barely spared a thought for your parents at the sight of that, reaching out to both men and holding them close. You muffled your cry with the fabric of Roman’s shirt, rocking against them as you came. Roman buried his face in your hair, whispering praise, and Baron nuzzled your cheek, that smile firmly in place.

The two of them lowered you back to the bed, your whole body a quivering mess. Roman pressed himself to your back, humming and rubbing his hands down over your shoulders and arms. Baron laid your head on his chest, wrapping an arm around Roman’s shoulders to tug him even closer. Roman raised his head to give Baron a peck on the cheek and you saw him smile out of the corner of your eye.

“Sleep now cutie.” Baron murmured, kissing your forehead.

You could feel Roman’s cock slotted firmly up against your back and reached for it, fingers clumsy with exhaustion. Roman caught your hand, kissing each finger before returning the appendage to Baron’s chest. “B-But you guys…” You yawned, “…just put in all that work, ought to get somethin’ for it…”

“We did that because we love you. Not because we wanted something in exchange.” Roman’s voice was firm. “You’re our Omega. It’s our job to keep you happy and safe, so you don’t have to feel like you need to lie about who you are.”

“It’s not you guys m’ worried about, s’ my parents.” You protested, sleep dragging at you.

Baron sighed heavily. “We can protect you from damn near anything, you know that. We’re with you all the way, okay? We aren't scared of some toothless old Alphas.”

“But-“

“No buts.” Baron gently smoothed the hair back from your face. “Sleep. We’re here, Omega. We’re here and you’re safe.”

You drifted off even while you were still protesting, barely recalling mumbling some nonsense words and then snuggling back into Roman.

…

The morning run was much needed. You knew you’d promised to show them around the neighborhood, but you were distracted by thinking on what they had said last night.

“So you don’t have to feel like you need to lie about who you are.”

You shook your head, bouncing back and forth as you waited for Roman and Baron to catch up. You had no problem with who and what you were. Or so you claimed. You frowned. Omegas were well-known in respectable society as inconvenient, the dirty little secret people hoped their mates wouldn’t find out about. Your heart ached as you wondered how many Omegas were lucky enough to have what you had, the unconditional affection of a mate (or mates) that actually cared about you.

“Hey, you’re doing it again.” A large hand rumpled your hair and you squawked indignantly, swatting Corbin away. “Thinkin’ a hole in the wall. You damn nerd.”

“I can’t help it sometimes.” You mumbled, making his fond smile fade.

“You wanna’ talk about it?”

“I worry about other Omegas.” You blurted out. Baron blinked, seeming confused. “I know I’m very, very lucky to have you guys to protect me and keep me happy and stuff. But…I also know what people think when I say I’m an Omega. I know what people think of me. And I--it makes me sad, you know?”

“What makes you sad? I’ll kill it.” Roman threatened, having finally caught up.

“Just the fact that I’m scared about what my parents will do if I tell them I’m an Omega. The fact that Omegas are always viewed as…well, as outliers, the ones that ruin things.” You said hesitantly. “What about the ones that aren’t as lucky as I am? The ones that can’t afford suppressants and all that? Is it really their fault when they get knocked up? Can you even blame them in that instance? I mean, I know you guys don’t have heats or anything but you’ve seen me, I’m not ashamed to admit I get totally desperate and it’s just…” You searched for the right words. “You two keep me safe and sated. Why is it everywhere else, that need is made into a fucking joke? Alphas rip each other apart in some heat of the moment dispute and it’s seen as badass. Betas can’t have kids and it’s talked about but they aren’t belittled for it.”

“Being needy and affectionate is viewed as a weakness to be taken advantage of.” Baron said bluntly. “Plenty of scumbag Alphas and Betas are more than willing to stick their cock in whatever slick hole they find, and if that warm body also happens to be someone who will be incredibly easily stimulated, enthusiastic and overwhelmed into submitting to their every whim, well.” He shrugged, brown eyes sad. “That’s that.”

“It’s not right.” Roman frowned. “It’s fucking sketchy.”

“I didn’t say it was right. Look, we can’t fix everything out there, okay? Reigns and I are just a couple of dumb college jocks. But I fucking love you. We. Fucking love you. You’re our mate, our everything, our strong Omega. You’ve got this heart in you that’s fucking incredible and we’re the luckiest Alphas on this damn planet.” Baron pressed his forehead to yours as tears started trickling down your cheeks. “Whatever you choose to do, we’ll follow your lead. I think you should be up front with your parents but I can’t make that choice for you, okay? I know how hard it is to lose touch with your family.”

“I don’t want to lie to them.” Your voice was barely there.

“Then don’t. We can all sit down and talk about this like adults. We’re your Alphas, you’re our Omega. We’re here to cherish and defend you. Even when it comes to your parents.” Roman reassured you. “We’ll throw down any time, any place, understood?”

“I know, I know. You two are amazing.” You sniffled, making Roman 'tsk' and pull you into a hug. “I’m just scared.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, cutie.” Baron’s face hardened. “You’ve dealt with the presentation forcing, just like I did, and if anything it obviously put you off your feed. Your parents have exactly zero justification for being disgruntled about who you are.”

“Okay.” You said softly, face still buried in Roman’s chest.

Baron rumpled your hair again. “Dry them tears. You’re gonna’ be just fine.”

…

You felt like your tiny breakfast was about to make a sudden reappearance. Per Roman’s idea, you had shakily asked your parents to join the three of you in the kitchen for ‘an important conversation’.

You twiddled your fingers in your lap and Corbin covered your hand with his own. Across the table your mother looked on expectantly. Your father had his arms folded. His facial expression was…not encouraging.

“So I lied to you guys.” You began quietly. May as well just say it. “I’m not a Beta.”

“Knew it.” Your father grunted. “Told you.”

“I…I don’t understand, pumpkin. Why would you lie to us?” Your mother asked slowly. Her eyes widened as the truth seemed to strike her. “Oh no. You’re not…oh no.”

“This whole thing was a lie? Are you even mated? Or are you just using that as a cover up?” Your father spat, “You know, to protect your spotless reputation as an O-”

Roman abruptly stood, back ramrod straight. “Don’t finish that sentence.” He warned the other man. Baron nodded in agreement. “We are respecting your authority by being honest. Don’t throw that respect in our faces.” Roman obviously had the ability to be formal himself. “Your child knows the image that Omegas have.” Your mother flinched at the word. “They were afraid to tell you, afraid of how you would react.”

“So which one of you is their real mate and which one is just along for the easy ride?” Your father needled. “I know how you stupid meathead frat boys operate.”

Corbin shoved his chair away from the table so hard it toppled over when he got to his feet, his fists clenched at his sides. “Baron, no.” You said quietly, laying a hand on his arm.

“He’s insulting us, but more importantly he's insulting you.” Baron stated bluntly. “You expect me to just-”

“What I expect is for the two of you to let me handle this to the best of my ability, okay?” You interrupted, still quiet. You weren’t angry, if anything you were encouraged by the support your Alphas showed for you. But this was something you needed to do. Baron exhaled harshly, remaining where he stood. Reigns sat back down. You cleared your throat, focusing on your mother. “Mom, I know I can’t be anything except what I am. It’d be like asking you or Dad to be an Omega. It hasn’t been easy to adjust, my body does weird stuff that I don’t fully understand yet. I’m hoping it will get easier with time.”

“I just wish you had told me, pumpkin.” Your mother whispered, her appearance distraught. “Maybe I could have…I don’t know, I don’t even know.” She raised her eyes to Baron. “Are you boys even imprinted on them? Or was that a lie too?”

“We have an imprint witness.” Baron said tightly. “Seth Rollins, infirmary head. He’s a Beta. I was first and Roman was hot on my heels when it happened.”

“I promise we wouldn’t lie about something like that, ma'am.” Roman added.

“I was…I got my first heat right after finals. I felt like I was going to pass out, I could barely walk.” You recounted the events of that fateful day. “Baron and Roman were able to get me to the infirmary. They had both been scent marking me as a way to keep people from bothering me until I presented.”

“How convenient.” Your father muttered.

Your mother suddenly snapped, turning on her husband angrily. “If you do not keep your mouth shut I'm going to go completely insane, will you just for once in your life be quiet?!” She raged, stereotypical so-called ‘Alpha’ temper out loud and proud. You noticed Baron shudder out of the corner of your eye.

Your father glared down at the table sullenly.

You cleared your throat, drawing her attention again. You were well-used to your mother's explosive swings of aggression. Mostly you were glad it wasn't aimed at you this time. “The nurse, Seth, was the one who knew what was wrong with me, and he clued me in on the fact that two Alphas scent marking me was a little...weird. Not unheard of, naturally. But sort of rare.” You shrugged. “The rest is history.”

“We love your child, ma’am. More than anything in this world.” Reigns’ voice had gone soft, a little waver evident. “We want to keep them safe and happy. And something that was making them unhappy was lying to you two.”

“So why do it, then?” Your father didn’t seem to know when to quit.

“Because they love you, even after the shit you put them through with presenting.” Baron snarled. “Funny how that works.”

“We’ve all heard the stories, Mom. You and I both know there are parents out there that have definitely tried to keep their Omega kids a secret. Or they’ve outright disowned them, kicked them out into the street and refused to even acknowledge their existence. I felt like I had a right to fear your reaction.” You said plainly.

Your father stood and Roman did the same, staring the older man down. Baron moved closer to you, close enough for you to reach back and touch him if you wanted. “I’m not going to be threatened in my own house.” The eldest Alpha finally blustered. “I want you all out. And you’re not coming back, understand? I knew this was fishy from the very beginning, and I refuse to tolerate a lying, scheming Omega, trying to tear apart my authority.” He hissed.

Roman’s growl sounded like thunder in your ears and you hastily grabbed hold of his wrist. “No, no. Don’t let him get the best of you.” You instructed. “All he’s trying to do is piss you off so you scrap with him. Any good lying, scheming Omega worth their salt knows that.” You did your best to keep your lower lip from quivering. Now wasn’t the time for a breakdown. You had to be strong for your Alphas. “This is kind of how I figured it would go. It’s alright, Roman.”

“Shouldn’t have even bothered with this.” Roman seemed to be having difficulty forming words through his anger.

“Agreed.” Baron grumbled, “I lived with this bullshit. I thought you guys might be different, but hey, why prove me wrong?” He asked bitterly. “S’ too bad, I was looking forward to having someone to talk about recipes with.”

“Now wait, boys, I-“ Your mother began to protest and Roman snapped his teeth.

“Do you believe that your kid is a walking embodiment of the Omega stereotype? A stereotype that, need I goddamn remind you, Alphas and Betas came up with?” He growled. “Or do you believe that their secondary doesn’t change who they are as a damn person?”

“I don’t know!” You mother cried. “They’re my only child, I don’t want to lose them! But…”

“You’re wasting our damn time.” Baron snorted when your mother trailed off. “I think we should go. Before Pops has heart failure.”

“Can I hug you?” You asked your mother. She bolted around the table quick enough to make Baron tense up, but he relaxed after she started crying into your shoulder. You rubbed her back, feeling like the older one all of a sudden. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“This is such a mess.” She hiccuped. “Oh pumpkin, what an absolute mess.”

You got the feeling that your parents would have one of their infamous fights tonight. The selfish part of you was thrilled that you wouldn’t be there for it.

…

“So this is home sweet home.” Roman said proudly, unlocking the door to the in-laws apartment. His parents weren’t home but they had tucked the key into an envelope with a note about the dishwasher being broken and left it under one of the patio bricks. From the looks of things Roman’s family was…well off. A small pool, the in-law apartment, and beside it the main house with a well-kept lawn.

Mostly you were just glad to not be in the car anymore. The trip had been long and your sedan had been jam-packed with all the stuff from the dorm room. Baron seemed to share the sentiment, stretching his arms out over his head and groaning loudly when his spine popped.

“Mi casa is you casa or whatever.” Roman continued, grinning as you laughed. The two Alphas had done their best to cheer you up during the drive, Roman singing along (badly) to songs on the radio or Baron trying to get your favorite snacks whenever they stopped for gas. You appreciated their effort, your mood brightening up with every attempt. It reminded you of how incredibly lucky you were to have them.

“Um, I told my parents about who you are and my mom said she kinda’ rigged the bedroom a little better for you and stuff.” Roman rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t really…know what that means and she didn’t explain.” He admitted.

“Probably padded the corners and stuff. It’s kind of like childproofing.” Baron supplied, wandering to the kitchen. “Omegas have a rep for being thrashy. ‘Course, that’s probably just more Alpha bullshit.”

You shivered at the implication, grimacing. “Well, that’s a comfort.”

“Hey, let’s just see. If it’s bad we’ll rip it apart together, okay?” Roman bargained, a mischievous grin on his face.

You sighed, trailing along behind him past the kitchen. “You’re on thin ice Reigns.”

“Oh yeah, I’m totally scared of you.” He opened the door to the bedroom, stepping inside, and you quickly followed. It was…well it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting.

Baron whistled, meandering around you. “Huh.”

The whole room was done in a series of soothing tones, with light curtains. A large mattress on a platform frame took up most of the room, along with a series of chairs. You moved forward in a daze, reaching to touch the blanket on the bed. It was ludicrously soft under your hands, and you kneaded your fingers blankly into it for a few seconds.

Roman picked up another envelope on one of the pillows, his brow furrowed. “Dear Roman and company,” He read aloud, “although your father and I can’t be there right now, we would like to extend a warm welcome to your new mate, and hello again Baron. I think I was very thorough when it came to research. I wanted it to be a surprise. As I’m sure you know, it’s pretty hard to find inoffensive and, more importantly, accurate information on Omegas. I tried to decorate with things that are soft because there was a mention of over-stimulation issues. I hope we did well. We’ll see you at the end of the week. Eat what’s in the fridge.”

Tears filled your eyes and you crumpled beside the bed, the soft blanket ending up in a pile on your lap. “Cutie, shh, it’s okay.” Baron soothed, crouching and wrapping you in a hug.

“Damn Mom, you’re alright.” Roman said with no small amount of admiration in his tone, kneeling next to you.

“It’s so nice.” You managed to say through your tears. “This is really soft. I just…sorry, I’m overwhelmed right now.”

“Shit, you and me both.” Baron muttered.

Roman shrugged. “She’s a mom first, I guess. Here, hop up on the bed and we’ll get you changed for a swim.”

“I d-don’t have a swimsuit though.” You blubbered, still allowing yourself to be stood upright on the bed.

Roman winked up at you as he unzipped your jeans. “I know.” Baron made a noise like he’d lost all his breath, clearing his throat when Roman glanced over at him and flashed him a grin.

“Oh.” You reeled for a minute while you caught on to what Roman was saying, his deft fingers already divesting you of your jeans. “Yes, yesyesyes Alpha.” You begged, whining when Baron groaned fuck under his breath. “Can it be here? Right here?”

“Wherever you want, Omega. We’re ready when you need us.” Roman said softly.

You bolted from his grasp, quickly tearing off your shirt and underwear so you could chuck them in a pile over the side of the bed. Baron didn’t seem to be able to help the incredulous snort of laughter he let out, grinning broadly. “Cutie, Jesus Christ, you damn near broke your neck. Be careful.” He teased, urging you into his arms. “What do you want from us? What does our needy Omega fuckin’ crave?” He asked, hoisting you up easily to rest on his hips and rubbing his nose against your own. “You need to get finger fucked? Devoured? Or do you need your Alpha’s dick in you?” Corbin’s voice had dropped to a filthy growl, his mouth pressed to your ear. You nodded rapidly with a whimper. “Needy Omega wants our cocks, Reigns.”

“Is that so?” Roman murmured, a finger trailing over your shoulders. “I suppose we should. They’ve been very strong lately, y’know. Deserve a reward, I think.”

Baron laid you down on the bed and propped himself up for a minute, just watching you wriggle on the blanket. “I’d like to fuckin’ plow you right through this mattress sometime.” He said conversationally. Roman bit his lip and began fumbling to get his hair tied back. “But right now I want you to ride me, Omega. I want you to ride me and take my knot and then I’m gonna’ fucking pin you to my hips and buck into you until you scream.” Baron’s grip on the blanket tightened, his hips rocking down into the apex of your thighs. “Sound good?”

“Christ, Baron.” Roman’s voice had a gravelly undertone to it that made you want to arch your body in surrender. “Your fucking mouth, man, I swear to God.”

“What, too much?” Baron asked, all worried brown eyes as he looked up. His worry faded when both you and Roman shook your heads. “Oh, shit, you like it too Reigns? Uh, okay. That’s…I mean that’s pretty cool. What...should I say something else?”

“Yes.”

Baron chuckled, like he could hardly believe it. “Okay, okay.”

“I like it when you say what’s going to happen.” You offered after Baron was silent for a few seconds.

“I wasn’t fucking around when I said great stuff comes out of your mouth.” Roman mumbled, seeming almost embarrassed.

“Reigns, your whole…I dunno’ man, how enthusiastic you are and shit? It’s great.” Baron swallowed hard. “Really great. So I’ll talk, yeah? About how this little Omega pussy is gonna’ take my fucking knot and milk me for everything I’ve got. And then Roman is gonna’ fuck you open, wide fuckin’ open and he’s gonna’ do it until you drench him, yeah? Then he’ll fill you up, sate you on this soft blanket so you feel amazing. Sound good?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Roman bared his teeth, whole body trembling eagerly. You weren’t faring much better, the low roll of Baron’s voice quickening your pulse to a thundering cadence.

Baron smirked, patting your hip. “Scoot over so I can lay down, okay?” You hastily obliged, a giggle bubbling in your throat when Baron’s shorts got tangled up around his ankles. Roman swallowed the giggle with a hard kiss, fondling one of your breasts and making you whimper into his mouth.

“You wanna’ mate them, don’t you Reigns?” Baron asked, moaning in his throat when Roman replied by rolling his pelvis against you, forcing you down onto your back. “Yeah, I bet you do. So fuckin’ eager, I bet you’re already dripping for them, aren’t you?” Baron asked. “Don’t fuckin’ deny it Reigns.”

Roman went still for a second, then fought with the zipper on his pants. “The fuck would I deny it for, I’ll show you fucking dripping, Corbin.” He snarled, gesturing to the obvious wet spot on his boxers. “I get fuckin’ hard and leak precome and it’s a Goddamn mess every fucking time I-” Roman’s frustrated rant was cut off when you leaned up and mouthed over the front of his boxers. Baron sucked in a breath and Roman bucked his hips forward, pressing the arch of his cock against your tongue. “You see what you do to me, Omega?” He asked, a hand on your chin tilting your face up to look at him. “I’m almost as slick as you are, huh? It’s because I want you. I want you.” He said firmly.

“Look at how hard he is for you, cutie. Look at what you do to us.” Baron said quietly, reaching to tug down the waistband of Roman’s boxers until his cock was free. “See, look at how much he’s leaking already, Jesus Christ Reigns.”

“I can’t h-help it man.“ Roman stammered as Baron dragged a finger lazily up the underside of his cock. “I just feel how needy they are and it’s like, an instant boner. I…shit, m’sorry.”

“It’s okay man, you’re Alpha too. We don’t exactly have to follow my lead.” Baron shrugged. “Just thought it’d be fun. It’s kind of cool going last because then you can fuck your knot in and out of them a few times before they get too tight for you to move.”

Roman made a stifled noise in his throat, watching you lap at the head of his cock.

“You maybe wanna’ have them suck your cock while I knot them?”

“I don’t know if I’ll last.” Roman confessed quietly. “This isn’t a heat rut, y’know? I’m not…stamina won’t be up to par.”

“Alright.” Baron chewed on his lip for a second, seeming to be thinking hard. “Oh! Oh...okay Reigns, take a seat.” You looked up at Baron, thoroughly confused as Roman obediently got off the bed and settled himself into the chair next to it. “Now, tell me what to do.” Baron said, standing and crossing his arms.

Roman licked his lips. “Strip.” He said finally, grinning nervously when Baron began unbuttoning his shirt. “No no, like…shit, like nice. Smooth. Make them ache.” He ordered, Corbin snickering a little as he slowed down.

“Like this?” Baron asked, sliding his fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs and stroking himself.

You voiced your desperation with a keening whine, please Alpha! Roman relaxed a little, leaning forward in the chair. “Lay down on the bed and have them straddle you. Omega, I’m gonna’ say stuff but you just…I mean, you do what you like, if you wanna’ do what I say that’s fine, if you’re not okay with it tell me. Baron, I want you to just lay there.”

“All over it. Get up here, cutie. Fuck, look at those thighs.” Baron breathed, clapping a hand over the back of your right leg. “You’re gonna’ get fucked, Omega. You’re so fucked.”

You straddled him and rested on his pelvis, stroking his cock and watching it twitch in your hand. Your whole body was tense with anticipation and Baron groaned, clenching his fingers into the blanket when you reached down and collected some of your slick to coat his cock. “I want to be good for you.” You said sweetly.

“Oh Jesus, naughty Omega.” Roman gasped, “Sink onto that fucking cock then, no teasing. I want you to ride him into a lather, show him you’re in charge, okay? You fuck that cock good, you make those noises, don’t you dare hold back. Your Alphas are here and we’re going to fill you up, fuck you until we’re empty, yeah?” Roman looked up at Baron for confirmation. “Yeah?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Reigns.” Baron snarled. “Hell yeah. You ride me until those thighs are fuckin’ quivering, cutie.”

You scooted up his body and held his cock so you could slide it into your pussy, hearing Baron’s grunt when the head of it finally breached you. It always felt so good, so right when you were being claimed. This was different, though, like you were claiming him. Baron was yours. Roman was yours. The notion hit hard. You were used to thinking about submitting, about being owned and taken care of. But here, now, you were taking your pleasure from your willing Alpha, instructed to do so by your other Alpha. The idea of being even partially in charge made your back straighten, and you raked your nails down Baron’s chest as you settled fully onto his cock.

“Mine.” You said softly.

Baron’s eyes went wide and then he covered his mouth with his hand, making an attempt to stifle his startlingly loud moan. “Fuck, when you say that I just…shit, ride me, mate me.” He pleaded, flinching and then stilling when Roman carded his fingers through his messy hair.

“Shh, just me. Omega, you want to ride his cock, yeah? He’s yours to fuck, so fuck him.” Roman demanded, making you circle your hips.

Baron cried out and started panting when you rolled your body, rubbing your clit against his stomach and then raising yourself up on your knees until just the head of his cock was in you. “Oh Jesus Christ, please, please cutie please I need you-” The way his voice sounded when he was begging sent a fresh wave of warmth through your body and you couldn’t help but oblige, eliciting a satisfied growl from Roman when you started a fast paced rocking motion on Baron’s cock.

“This is mine.” Your breathless statement made both of them groan, Baron’s voice cracking a little. “It’s mine.”

“It’s always been yours, always been fuckin’ yours.” Baron said desperately. “The second we were imprinted I was yours, all yours, why’d you wait so long to claim this cock? S’ fuckin’ yours.”

“Omega, nip at his ear and whisper whatever the hell you want. He loves that shit.” Roman snickered at Baron’s facial expression. “You’re welcome, Corbin.”

“Oh God, oh fuck just…” Baron trailed off when you leaned forward and started licking at the shell of his ear. His whole body shuddered violently, cock throbbing in you.

“Someone likes that, huh?” You whispered, teeth grazing the skin. Baron whimpered. “You like having your Omega take your knot, Baron? You want me to squeal and beg for you?”

“Oh God yes.” Baron choked. You ground yourself down onto his cock and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pinning your hips to his own. “Fuckin’ keep talking Omega, keep talking, keep saying dirty shit fuck me, you are the best.”

Roman’s fingers were in your hair abruptly, his mouth pressed to your ear. “Tell him how good he makes you feel.”

“Christ, so good!” You cried out and Baron snarled, fucking his knot up into you as it swelled.

“Tell them how good they feel around your cock, Baron.” Roman instructed.

“The absolute best I’ve ever had, want you to feel me in your fucking belly, Omega, come on my fucking knot because I’m gonna’ fuck you through it, fuck you through it, fuck me fuck me mate me you’re so fucking beautiful I just want-” Baron’s ramble was a heated frenzy of motion and words, his knot finally settling deep enough to make your stomach ache sweetly and you came with a loud moan of his name. “God yes, yes! Fuck, drench my fuckin’ dick because I’m gonna’ fuckin’ come in you, gonna’ come-” Baron seemed to dissolve into nothing but snarls and mutters of gonna’ come, his whole body tight under you when Roman murmured something in his ear. “Yes.” Baron said finally, pinning your hips to his own and then coming with a gasp. “God, Jesus, Reigns, makin’ me fuckin’ twitch in them.” He groaned, you echoing the noise as his knot jolted and rubbed at your walls.

You collapsed on his chest, breathing hard. Baron stroked your hair, sucking wind himself. He reached out and clumsily grabbed the back of Roman’s neck, hauling the other Alpha in for a kiss. “You’re both incredible.” Baron panted. “Holy shit, Reigns. How’d you know about the ear thing?”

“I pay attention.” Roman grinned.

“Thank you for that.” You huffed, making both of them laugh. “Thank you so much. Now get in me before I pass out.”

“You still…okay, wasn’t sure if you would after all that.” Roman said, helping Baron ease you off his body so you could lay down on your stomach. “You can just stay right there, I’ll fill you up like that.” He continued calmly, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back. “Baron can stroke your hair while I knot you, you’ve done so good. What a good mate you are.”

“The best.” Baron agreed, his breathing still a little ragged.

Roman slipped a hand beneath your hips and arched you up, just enough for him to slide home. You whimpered at the sensation, able to weakly rock against his hand with every deep thrust. Baron hummed quietly, his fingers digging into your hair and massaging your scalp. You closed your eyes in bliss, your cheek pressed to the pillow as Roman practically covered you with his body. Baron’s voice was shot but he still managed to demand, “Faster, Reigns. Get them to come again.”

“I don’t need to, I just-” You began to protest and then Roman pulled you up and backwards onto his cock, crushing every last inch into your cunt. His knot slid in and out of you, over and over in a maddening rhythm as Roman grunted in your ear and mouthed over your shoulders hungrily.

“Omega, this is fucking yours.” He snarled, and you felt his hand slide to grip the base of his cock below his knot for a moment. “And yours only. This fucking throbbing cock is for you, for you to mate and claim and own, it’s yours, it’s all yours, Jesus Christ we love you so fucking much-” His knot popped in one final time, cock arching hard against your belly and you screamed as you came, Roman growling and fucking you through it with furious, sharp bucks of his hips. His knot secured him firmly and he rocked against you, back and forth while he kept talking. “God yes God fucking yes come on me, oh God you’re so beautiful like this, so good for us, Jesus-”

You were speechless, your pussy in spasm around his cock as he muttered and Baron crooned softly, kissing your forehead. “You’re amazing, cutie.” He praised, his smile warm. “He’s gonna’ fill you up, thank him being so good to you, okay?”

“Thank you, Alpha.” You whispered.

You felt Roman shiver violently as he came, pelvis jerking out of tempo. “Anything for you.” He murmured, kisses landing on the back of your neck and shoulders. “Anything for you. We love you.” He dragged his finger through the hot trail of slick and come that was trickling down your thighs, rubbing his thumb over his index to smear the combination. “Christ Big Banter, look at this fucking mess.” He sounded proud.

…

Roman played with your hair absently as Baron read slowly from one of your books. The air conditioner hummed quietly in the window, comforting background noise to the rumble of Baron’s voice. You rolled over onto your back, sneaking a hand through the crook of Baron’s elbow and linking the three of you together. The scent of comfort and content wove through your senses in a soothing manner.

“Whatcha’ thinkin’ about?” Roman asked, his voice drowsy.

“You two.” You answered simply.

Baron threw a leg over Roman’s, giving the both of you a stern look. “Interrupting the story is not good behavior, guys. Takes a lot of brain power for me to string these words together.”

“M’ sorry, Corbin. Make it up t’you.” Roman mumbled, already half-asleep.

You craned your neck to kiss Baron on the cheek, smiling at him. “Keep reading? I promise I won’t interrupt again. It's one of my favorites, and I like when you read. You sound nice.”

Baron blustered for a minute, his face endearingly pink when he cleared his throat and started back in. “...and when, released, he sprang to his feet, his mouth laughing, his eyes eloquent, his throat vibrant with unuttered sound, and in that fashion remained without movement, John Thornton would reverently exclaim, 'God! you can all but speak!'" He stopped, clearing his throat again. “Shit.”

“You alright?” You asked softly.

“Yeah, yeah. M' good. It's just...I mean, I like pack stuff.” Baron's eyes closed for a minute, his jaw working. “For the pack, y'know?” He muttered.

You took the book out of his hands and placed it on the bedside table, then pulled Baron in close to rest his head on your chest. Roman was already snoring and you gently petted Baron's hair, making the larger Alpha close his eyes and sniffle a little bit.

For the pack.

Part Three

[initiala]

Casual Intimacy - COMMENTARY

@spartanguard and @yayimallamaagain both asked for me to do commentary on this Captain Hood AU. It’s sexual and slashy, so if it’s not your cup of tea, please keep scrolling

Thanks @unfolded73 for bringing this back, it was fun!

It felt like they’d known one another forever. They moved together on the field with ease, passing without thinking, sensing where the other was – just knowing they would be there with the assist. They stayed up late in the common area, going over plays and devising new ones, finishing each other’s thoughts late into the evening until someone inevitably reminded them about morning drills and the need for sleep. When one had a bad day, the other knew and was often the first to drag him out for a pint and some mindless entertainment to cheer him up. They had similar pre-game rituals, sat next to each other on roadies, and their teammates were surprised when one was seen without the other. They laughed and took the piss out of each other like the oldest of mates, but Killian and Robin had only been playing together since their first year at uni – sorry, freshman year.

Let’s start off with the hows of this story. Tina and I were chatting while I was at work one night and we were mostly bemoaning the fact that Oncers tend to stick very... safe and vanilla with their ships and smut. (where is the Sea DeVil tentacle porn I ask you??) It turned into how it’s interesting to actually have a fandom where there’s so much f/f compared to the sea of m/m, but then we were like “... okay but outside of Captain Charming ARE there any serious m/m ships?” And so here we are.

(Killian still had some trouble wrapping his mind around the linguistic differences between American and British English. At least he’d known better than to ask to borrow someone’s rubber in the middle of class.)

Sorry, Emma Watson, it’s just too funny not to throw in.

Regardless, he’d certainly heard of Robin Locksley before decamping to America and Robin had heard of Killian Jones; the amateur competitive football world was small back home and everyone knew who was being scouted by the leagues and by the universities. Locksley was good, a striker with the makings of an excellent skipper one day. They’d never played against one another, but everyone kept tabs on the big names.

There was a big to-do about if they’d play on the same team or just run into each other in the locker rooms a lot, but I’m me and it got sticky on the sport schedules. Killian was on the swim team for a while at the beginning but Robin was always on the footy team and so Killian eventually made his way over there to make it easy.

(No one had ever thought to mention how ruddy fit Locksley was. Oh, he’d noticed at first – beautiful people drew his eye in that way – but he’d had a few other dalliances before realizing just how bloody fucked he was when it came to Robin Locksley. It was during a rain delay that Killian had realized he was absolutely fucked when it came to Robin. They’d gotten caught in a downpour during warm-up drills and everyone had gotten soaked through, but Killian had zeroed in on how Robin’s kit clung to his well-defined muscles and the water ran down his chiseled jaw and bloody fuck he was well and truly fucked.. He’d also decided then that an artist should capture Rob’s beauty in marble, like the Greeks. Though it wouldn’t capture the way the sun glinted off his hair and made it shine, or the way his cheeks dimpled when he laughed, or the cold fury in his eyes when another player committed an unnecessary slide tackle and injured one of their teammates.)

The fact that they’d both been scouted for this small university’s football team – rather, soccer, as the Americans stubbornly continued calling it – just happened to be a twist of fate.

A rather cruel one, if he was going to be melodramatic about it – which he was apparently rather adept at, according to Swan.

Swan was his roommate, a lacrosse player with a mean right hook, a passion for grilled cheese, an old Volkswagen Beetle that he was constantly trying to keep running for her, and a penchant for throwing her pre-law books at him when he was in one of his “melodramatic moods”. And yes, Emma Swan was a girl – woman, as she and her friend Snow were fond of reminding him.

The university’s rather liberal policy of gender neutral residence halls had ended up quite in his favor, despite the book-throwing. While even he could admit that Swan was a striking example of womanhood, his tastes ran more towards the men. And sharing a room with another man had always run hit-or-miss for him in the past. Swan hadn’t even batted an eye that first year, offhandedly mentioned an ex-girlfriend named Lily, and then asked if his practice schedule was as grueling as hers.

This is also the “everyone is bi/gay AU”. And let me tell you, I was so happy to go to a university housing conference and learn all about the (slow) changes being made to allow different genders rooming together! While it’s VERY SLOW GOING (this is higher education we’re talking about, it’s slow turtles all the way down), most public universities and quite a lot of private ones are shifting policies to accommodate preferences for LGBT students.

They’d been the best of friends ever since.

“If I have to hear you sigh over Robin’s quads one more time, I’m banishing you to the lounge for the night,” she grumbled, highlighting something in a textbook.

“They’re just so–”

“Perfect, so I’ve heard. Just ask him out already.”

“I had to wait fifteen minutes before I could shower,” Killian said, flopping back on the futon with one of his lit texts. “Bloody git took forever.”

“Scandalous,” she remarked, her voice dry. “Can’t even shower together. Oh wait, yes you can, because half the LAX team is gay and we have no problem.”

“Women don’t have knobs, bit different,” he retorted.

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “There is nothing sexy about a locker room, Jones. Quit being a – a, what is it you always call Will?”

“Bellend,” he deadpanned.

British insults are a delight and thank you Gavin Free for using them constantly so I’m on form.

“Right, that. Stop being a bellend and just say something. And don’t give me another speech about ruining the team ‘vibes’.” She actually used air quotes, the sarcasm dripping from her tongue. “If nothing else, you have to learn to keep personal shit off the playing field. Or use it as fuel during a game.”

Either Tina or Steph were like “oh thank god you made ‘vibes’ sarcastic I would not allow this otherwise” during the beta/preview process, I forget. But either way.

Killian sighed, resting his book on his face. She was right, he knew she was right, but when it came to actually admitting his own feelings, he was the biggest chickenshit – one of Swan’s delightful Americanisms that had rubbed off on him.

He just didn’t know how Rob would react.

Tina has never gotten over calling Robin Hood Rob. It’s hysterical to me.

It wasn’t as if his teammates didn’t know about his sexuality; as Swan had said, coming out to his mates hadn’t ruined any of the team’s closeness. Locksley had clapped his shoulder, thanked him for his trust and honesty, and assured him that the team would do their best to return that trust and honesty.

Well, that was all very well and good when stating a general interest in men and women, but in Killian’s experience, men who had no interest in other men tended to react… poorly.

To put it mildly.

“Rob’s not like that.” Swan’s quiet voice broke through his thoughts.

“What, are you a mind reader now, love?”

She snorted. “No, that’s you. I just recognize that silence.”

“Come here.”

She did, dragging her textbook with her and settling against his side on the futon. She could be a pain in his arse sometimes, but she also knew the value of physical contact; he was, admittedly, more free in his general affection towards friends, but he counted himself lucky to be one of the small handful of people that Swan regularly showed any sort of affection towards.

Hi, my name is Amanda and I’m a goddamn CS shipper until my last breath on this miserable Earth and I WILL MAKE THEM SNUGGLE. PLATONICALLY OR NOT. It was SO HARD to keep their hands off each other, seriously. Just... jump on in there, Emma. You, Killian, Robin. It’ll be a grand time.

“I’ll bring it up tomorrow,” Killian said quietly.

Swan made a noise as if she didn’t entirely believe him, and truth be told he didn’t entirely believe himself, but it was said and it would be enough for her to hold him to it. “I have a test tomorrow,” she told him, settling more comfortably into the crook of his arm.

He breathed a laugh and pulled her in closer, picking his own book back up to get some reading done before he was too inconsolable to think of studying.

Perhaps Swan was right about his inclination towards the melodramatic.

His body may have been at practice, but his head clearly wasn’t. He was passable at drills, but he was easily distracted during the scrimmage and it did not go unnoticed.

“Jones,” Robin called.

His skip’s voice cut through the locker room chatter. Killian paused only after securing a towel around his own hips, ready to half-drown himself in the showers after that abysmal practice. “Aye, mate?”

Robin made his way through their teammates, giving Killian a critical once-over before speaking. “You alright?” he asked, dropping his voice now.

Even I don’t know if Robin was checking him out or not. Also, same sex pairings make pronouns THE W O R S T.

Killian glanced up, then away, irritated at himself for a multitude of reasons now. “Aye. Long night. Sorry, skip, I’ll get right tomorrow.”

Robin was silent for a moment, then reached out and clapped Killian’s shoulder. Killian had to fight the urge to lean into it, to show how the familiar gesture affected him as he stood there half-naked in the bloody locker room. “Shower up, we’ll go for a pint and a chat,” Robin ordered and turned before it could be argued.

So much for locker rooms not being sexy.

Killian stared after his friend’s retreating back, taking a long moment to compose himself and adjust the towel a bit before grabbing his caddy and stalking off to the showers.

The hot water and soap didn’t make him feel anything other than clean of sweat and grass stains. Try as he might, letting the water beat against his skin did nothing to relieve the guilt of giving less than his best or the anxiety gnawing at his gut at the conversation to come.

After he dressed, he went out into the hall to find Robin waiting for him. Wordlessly, they fell into step together, practice bags slung over their shoulders and hands shoved into their pockets. He followed Robin’s lead as they left the training facility and went down the street to their favorite dive bar – fairly empty at this hour, which would make Robin’s scolding easier to hear.

I don’t know why but I always envision this as a pub. I also have no idea where they’re going to university, so maybe there is an English-style pub near their facilities.

They ordered, and after the waitress brought their pints, they each took a long drink as Robin regarded Killian thoughtfully over the rim. “So,” he said, setting his glass down. “Something’s eating at you. And don’t give me any nonsense about everything being fine or I’ll go talk to Emma and she’ll tell me what’s really going on with you.”

Killian winced, setting his own glass down. Swan absolutely would, if for no other reason than she was an abysmal liar. “That’s a low blow, Locksley.”

“Aye, but you’re a right stubborn bastard when you put your mind to it, so my hand is forced. You’ve never played so badly, not in all the years I’ve known you. Even after the mess with that lass Milah and then your disastrous rebound with Jefferson.”

Those had been easier to handle – after Milah left, there had been nothing for him but throwing himself into the game, leaving everything on the pitch until he was spent, an empty shell left for Swan to care for, making sure he ate and had a decent night’s rest. Jefferson had been an angry affair, both of them lost and angry and winding up hurting the other more. But it had only led to more fuel, something like a dam breaking in Killian’s soul that flooded his body with pain and rage and powering his game until he was left with only quiet and acceptance inside.

Please join me in a vision about Killian and Jefferson, basically hatefucking each other until they can’t breathe, but there’s a bunch of h/c involved too. Like the most ridiculous S/M relationship ever where they just use each other until they don’t need one another anymore. 

Also Milah didn’t die in this one, I don’t know the story but she’s still alive somewhere.

But this, this situation held more at stake.

Swan’s voice was in his head, telling him she’d hold him to his statement yesterday, but he reasoned that if such a confession went poorly he would have nowhere to turn. He’d left his feelings out on the pitch after Milah, after Jefferson, but the pitch was where Robin was. Robin was his friend, his teammate, his skipper.

Robin kept things grounded with the rest of Killian’s world had fallen apart.

No matter the universe, Killian always seems to have someone he revolves around. He needs a center!

Killian took a long pull from his glass, stalling for time. Thankfully, their food arrived, and both young men were too well-mannered to talk and eat at the same time – Robin’s family descended from some stuffy upper class lot, Killian’s mum drilling the mantra of “manners maketh man” into his head as a lad. During a lull, he finally said, “All twisted around about someone, s’all.”

His burger sat heavy like lead in his stomach, watching Robin’s face. Robin’s eyebrow lifted. “Enough to ruin your football? Don’t tell me it’s Emma.”

Killian tried not to laugh. Swan was gorgeous, but it wasn’t meant to be. “Roommates are off-limits, remember? Or have you and Regina started sharing a bed as well as a room?”

From Tina: “Or we could just go full on polyamorous with CS/OQ all fucking each other *___*”

Robin’s cheeks pinked and he stabbed a chip into the ketchup. “I should bloody well think not… Very well then, who are they?”

I do think there was a little something between them though. Killian is very comfortably bi in this universe, but Robin... he’s not really sure what he is, and he’s okay with that. I think he’s more pansexual than anything else but he’d probably be most comfortable with the catchall “queer”.

His mouth felt dry, no matter how much of his beer he drank – indeed, he drained the glass and still felt parched. The waitress came and got him a refill and Killian stopped himself from guzzling it down lest he hurry along his buzz. He hardly thought a drunken confession of attraction would make things any better. “It’s… complicated,” he finally said. “Telling them, it would change a great many things that I’m loathe to give up.”

He met Robin’s gaze then, willing him to understand the words he wasn’t saying, but he knew it often took a straight answer for things to sink in. Robin’s blank look confirmed that. Killian swallowed hard, then said, “I value our friendship too much, Rob, to allow my personal feelings to get in the way if it makes you uncomfortable. I apologize if this admission alters the way you think of me –”

Robin’s eyes widened and Killian shut up fast; Robin was a good man, but he’d known plenty of men who turned on a dime at the thought of a man desiring them. “Bloody hell, me?” Killian’s mouth opened wordlessly, an icicle of fear slicing down his back as he tried to figure out whether he should run for it now or go down swinging. Robin blinked, shaking his head. “Well. I have to admit, Jones, this is a surprise, but I can’t say I’m not flattered.”

Well, he does look at himself in the mirror every day.

It was Killian’s turn to blink, his emotions a complete jumble. “You’re not…”

Robin met his gaze. “Killian, don’t be a tosser, I’m not upset.”

Sometimes it’s just nice to have a fic where everything goes according to plan. No gay angst, no “never fall in love with a straight boy”, nothing. Just two boys who like each other and would look really good in bed together. I was very, ANNOYINGLY conscious about how “but is the other person gay” fanfic works and actively wanted to subvert it.

“Well, you don’t go shouting about your conquests in the locker room, so I couldn’t be sure if it would be received well or not.”

Robin grinned. “No, we’ll leave that to Will. As it happens, I suppose it’s never really mattered to me.”

Will Scarlett loudly and hungoverly discusses his Friday nights with anyone who will listen. Usually his teammates, not by choice.

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

There was a long pause and Killian fought the urge to gulp half his beer to fill the silence. His fingers must have twitched towards his pint, though, because Robin started to grin. “So, is this a date, then, or should we do one proper another time?”

Sometimes to break an awkward silence you created, you give a character a joke.

Killian stared, flabbergasted. “One - what? And two, are you seriously asking me out right now?”

“Well, you should probably be the one to do the asking, but you seem – for the first time in your life, I might add – at a loss for words.”

“Rob, don’t indulge me if you’re not serious about this.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“You’re being awfully flippant.”

“I’m not getting on one knee, if that’s what you want.”

No, Rob, he wants you on both knees. Preferably naked.

Killian felt his ears burning and he wasn’t sure what the cause of it was: embarrassment or anger, possibly a mix of the two. “Look, just forget it,” he said, balling up his napkin and tossing it on the table. He dug in his back pocket for his wallet, trying to look anywhere but at Robin; but when Killian opened the tri-fold to look for cash, he stilled when Robin’s hand covered his.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Killian looked up to see a soft, earnest look on his face that matched his voice. “I thought – well, occasionally humor helps to ease tension, and I see now that it was a mistake.”

“Too bloody right,” Killian muttered.

Robin’s hand was warm, an odd but nice mix of calluses and softness against his own skin. Killian called up every ounce of courage he had, then turned his hand over to clasp Robin’s. His friend looked surprised at the gesture, perhaps a little unsure of how to handle it, but seemed neither disgusted nor displeased. “We’ve got a match Saturday afternoon, but how about after dinner we ditch the team and take in a movie?”

Haaaaaaand poooooornnnnn.

There were normally team dinners after matches, so it made sense – no need to alert anyone of anything new developing. And Killian and Robin normally went out after matches, though normally with Emma or Regina and their friends (they’d agreed that both of their roommates were useful in separate situations: Emma might not be a wild party girl but her LAX teammates knew how to celebrate a victory, while Regina and her group knew the perfect way to drown out any anger at a loss)

“Alright,” Killian said. Then, feeling bolder and remembering Robin’s remark about humor, added, “Though just so you know, I don’t put out on the first date.”

Robin blinked and Killian thought his joke may have missed the mark, then Rob started to laugh. “You’re probably a bloody awful kisser anyway.”

He thought about proving him wrong right then and there – he’d received approximately zero complaints about his technique, thank you very much – but in all honesty Killian was too busy trying to hide the fact that he was now very much staring at Robin’s mouth, wondering how he kissed and what the combined sensations of their beards might feel like.

I’m very glad to never have to find this out. Folks with beards who kiss others with beards -- chime in.

Swan, bless her, did her best not to gloat when he told her what had happened later that night.

Now please imagine Killian screaming into his pillow and then panicking about their date.

Though given the fact that he couldn’t stop grinning, he probably wouldn’t have minded a bit of gloating anyway.

Their style of play didn’t falter and Killian’s ability returned now that he was free of the stress of any difficult conversations. He’d been out with Robin before and though he fundamentally knew this was different, part of him wasn’t able to truly understand that this was a date and not just two friends out on the town. Perhaps that’s why he could keep his head on straight over the next few days, even managing to score a goal and assist on two others to help win the match on Saturday.

It wasn’t until after the team dinner that Robin caught his gaze and gave him a meaningful look.

That’s when the waves of butterflies hit.

They took Robin’s truck – Killian had never gotten the hang of driving on the wrong side of the road and happily allowed others to chauffeur him around – and headed out to the shopping mall on the far side of town. There was a theater there that gave student discounts. Knowing their teammates, no one would be out that way celebrating, and it wasn’t likely that they’d run into Emma (the LAX team was on a retreat for the weekend) or Regina (who had an organic chemistry exam on Monday and had threatened to set anyone who disturbed her on fire).

A few things here. I (and Tina) really enjoy the image of Killian going “fuck it, no” and just demanding others drive him around. Usually with his feet on the dash of Emma’s Bug and she wants to smack him for it. It’s also very hard sometimes to do like... little canon nods without beating people over the head with it. Particularly with magical shows like this. So I took a concept that I (and Tina) really enjoy, that Regina is a science nerd with her little potions kit, and translated it to the worst possible subject, organic chemistry, and viola, a perfect excuse for a super stressed student to want to light someone on fire.

Killian had found that there was always an odd moment concerning who paid when on a date with a man, but it seemed that Robin had already thought of that. “You get tickets, I’ll buy snacks?” he asked as they jumped out of the truck.

“Sounds good to me.”

GOING DUTCH, WHY DO ANYTHING ELSE ahem

They wound up eating most of the popcorn halfway through previews, making snide comments to the other about trailers for this overblown blockbuster or that lackluster comedy. By the time the lights went out, Killian was feeling more relaxed, though it still felt decidedly more like friends hanging out rather than a date.

About forty-five minutes in, he decided to make it feel like a date.

It took another fifteen minutes to build the courage to do it, sneaking glances at the armrest that lay between them and Robin’s arm casually resting on it.

He felt Robin still when Killian took his hand, and almost withdrew, but then Robin’s fingers laced with his and Killian’s heart soared.

He couldn’t remember the rest of the movie if he tried.

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnddddddddddddddd poooooooooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnn I have a thing if you didn’t notice

They were quiet as they left, Robin’s hands casually tucked in his pockets. There weren’t many people leaving the theater at the same time, so Killian pretended to stumble, bumping their shoulders together and making Robin laugh. He nudged back and it turned into a little game, shoving one another until Robin finally just threw his arm around Killian’s shoulders. It was almost a headlock, and to anyone observing it would appear so, but he recognized it for what it was.

Maybe Robin understood the value of physical contact, too.

“So,” Robin said as he pulled up to Killian’s dorm a while later.

“Yeah.”

“That was nice.” Killian scoffed and Robin grinned. “Right, you have a better adjective?”

“I had a good time,” Killian said, his voice pitching high at the end, silently asking if Robin felt the same.

I always picture Killian’s voice cracking a little here, not just questioning but just nerves making his voice crack like he’s going through puberty all over again.

Robin smiled and reached over the center console to take Killian’s hand again. “I did too. Though perhaps next time we not dine with our teammates beforehand?”

“Is there a next time?”

“I’d like there to be.”

They stared at one another for a long moment until Killian smiled. “Alright. Next week?”

They had two more dates before the championship tournament hit, and Killian didn’t like to admit how it frustrated him to put whatever this was between them on hold for the sake of the game. At the same time, he knew it was more important to focus on winning, that there would be more time in the off-season, but he was frustrated all the same.

More because Robin seemed to hide behind his skipper mask, even when it was just the two of them discussing plays after a scrimmage.

He missed his friend. Or his… whatever this was.

~labels~

They won the next game, solidifying their place in the quarterfinals, but only by the skin of their teeth. Everyone was frustrated after the game, Robin snapped at everyone in the locker room, and Killian’s own frustrations at his own poor play combined with his personal frustrations towards Robin. He managed to hold his tongue until everyone else had gone, finally lashing out, “It’s enough that we’re aware of our own mistakes, mate, there’s no need to be a prick to us all on top of it!”

“I’m skipper, Killian, it’s my damn job to be a prick when you all deserve it!”

“And whose job is it to put you in your place when you’re being an unjust prick?!”

“Not yours, that’s for certain! Take it up with the manager if you have a problem with my skipping!”

now angerbang

this isn’t commentary so much as it’s me pointing out where they could have fucked before they actually fucked, but I wanted angsty shower sex so we had to wait

Killian fumed. “It’s not enough to know your team isn’t happy with their treatment? You stubborn arse, we selected you and we can damn well take that away. We know we won by the skin of our teeth, we know we need to do better next match, and trust me when I say we’re all going to be beating ourselves up over these mistakes until the next time we can go out there and prove we can do better than before.”

“It’s not enough,” Robin said, scowling.

“What should we do, Robin, become gods? Invest in a Time-Turner? Because the only way we can fix what already happened is to–”

Anything else he might have had to say was abruptly cut off, his ability to speak lost as Robin surged towards him, gripped his shoulders, and fused their mouths together.

If Killian had any lingering doubts about Robin’s intentions – if he was merely indulging Killian’s crush or humoring him so as not to cause any alienation or hurt feelings – they vanished. Hands moved slowly, from clutching to embracing, fingers tentatively twining in hair. They both were in need of a haircut, too superstitious about it at this stage in the game, but something deep and primal in Killian’s bones liked being able to twist his fingers through Robin’s hair as his tongue traced the seam of his lips and begged for entrance.

writing kissing is hard. I wish I could wax poetic about the difficulties of it, but really, writing about kissing fucking sucks sometimes. Kudos to everyone who can do it well.

He hadn’t any expectations for what kissing Robin Locksley would be like, hadn’t allowed himself to think that far ahead or get his hopes up. But even in his wildest fantasies he couldn’t have imagined this – there was a soft urgency to his kiss, unsaid words pushed into actions and touches and the soft glide of their tongues, and Killian could feel Robin’s restraint, how much he was holding back, his inability to lose control in this moment and give in to the feeling.

He vowed to work on that.

Both were breathless when they parted, only enough to get air. Their foreheads touched and Killian almost chuckled when Robin’s mustache tickled his lip. He liked this – really liked this – the feeling of Robin’s arms around him and their bodies pressed chest to thigh. Though, he did try to angle his hips away, feeling his cheeks heat up as he realized Robin could surely feel his erection pressed against his thigh.

But if Killian wasn’t mistaken, and he’d bet a lot that he wasn’t, Robin wasn’t feeling very calm after that himself.

“Bad form,” Killian said finally, giving in and resting his head on Robin’s shoulder. It was a bit awkward, as Robin was actually a bit shorter, but he liked it anyway.

“Are you really commenting on my technique?” Robin asked, sounding both amused and exasperated.

“No,” Killian said with a laugh. “Bad form for shutting me up in the middle of a tirade. As for the actual kissing, that’s a solid eight out of ten.”

you will also pry feminist Killian Jones from my cold dead fingers. While this isn’t a particularly feminist point at the moment, there’s an annoying trend in media where a heterosexual couple is arguing and the woman is rightly mad about something, and the man stops her yelling at him by kissing her. Don’t kiss someone to shut them up, especially in an argument. Anyway, that was the point of that line, to point out how it’s dumb.

“I’m going to regret asking how one scores a perfect ten, aren’t I?”

Killian only grinned.

It was a hard loss.

The weeks leading up to the finals had been good ones. Robin had eased up a little, leaving any discipline discussions up to their manager and refocusing his energies on team morale. He’d confessed to Killian that part of his outburst had been fueled by his nerves about advancing their relationship.

Killian, in turn, was too stunned about Robin defining this as a real relationship to comment.

Little touches had helped. Lingering shoulder claps or gentle touches when they thought no one was looking. Spending time together after practices also helped; Swan knew enough that they could hang out in Killian’s room without much fuss, but Robin wasn’t sure about Regina’s reaction just yet. If anyone asked, they were studying together. If anyone took a closer look, they’d notice Killian’s hand on Robin’s thigh, or the casual way Robin’s arm slung around Killian’s shoulders.

Well, maybe one didn’t need to look too much closer.

about as subtle as a kangaroo in a flock of flamingoes

Still, playing the last few matches with that kind of support, that kind of assurance, helped. They’d entered the final match with their heads held high – all of them, everyone on the team – but losing in the championship would sting regardless of their pre-game morale.

Losing 5-0 basically annihilated whatever morale they had left.

I had to do a lot of research on how soccer playoffs or whatever works. In case you were wondering, Stanford won the championship I researched.

The team was slow to leave the locker room. Robin had no rousing speeches or kind words – in fact, he had no words at all. No one spoke, the silence dulled only by the steady hiss of the showers and punctuated by the occasional slam of a locker. Everyone trickled out in ones and twos, their heads decidedly less high than they’d been earlier that morning, until only Killian remained in the main room.

Sometimes he did this, lingering in the locker room, letting himself feel whatever emotions he felt after a match without worry that anyone would see. Today he sat with his head in his hands, going over every play in his mind and trying to find what he could have done differently, what plays they could have made instead.

He heard both Robin and Swan in his mind, telling him not to do this to himself, that he knew better.

Well, he did know better, but it was all he could bloody think about.

Disgusted with himself, Killian stripped off his grass-stained jersey and shorts, tossing his dirty uniform into a bag to be washed and grabbing his towel and shower things; everyone else would be back at the hotel by now and he’d join them later, but right now he had to wash off the stink of failure.

It appeared he wasn’t alone in thinking that.

He hadn’t noticed the water still running, but there was a lone occupant in the communal showers: Robin. Killian tried to think back to the last time he’d seen him and concluded that his boyfriend had probably been trying to literally drown his misery for at least three quarters of an hour.

Thanks, crazed Quidditch captain of my heart Oliver Wood, for the inspiration here.

Boyfriend. That was still strange.

Killian dropped his things in the partition, then stepped into the steam. “Rob.”

Robin turned slightly and Killian’s heart broke all over again at the self-loathing and anguish on his face. It mirrored his own feelings, but actually seeing it made him push them away and focus on trying to make Robin feel better. Or at least stop looking like he’d never feel happiness again.

They are in a gay relationship and there is angst. It’s different than gay angst, and I had suuuuuuuuuuch a hard time making myself comfortable with that and hoping I wasn’t going to be another hum-drum angsty slashfic.

As Killian went to hug him, it dimly registered that not only was this the first time in several years that he was seeing Robin naked, it was the first time they were even touching one another in an intimate way without clothes. And there was nothing sexy about it. And that was perfectly fine.

They didn’t speak, the water beating down on both of them and keeping them warm as Killian held Robin close; and it wasn’t as if he disliked the way that Robin clung to him, he just wished it were for any other reason than misery. And he really had no idea how to make it better.

For anyone keeping score at home, Sean is 5′9″ and Colin is 5′11″. For your height difference needs.

“You’re going to prune,” he finally said, voice barely audible over the hiss of the water. Robin only nodded, tucking himself under Killian’s chin. “Did you wash at all?” This time Robin shook his head.

Well, that was easily taken care of. Killian eased back to grab his things, then set to work.

He always found value in casual displays of affection. Whether it was hugging friends or letting Swan sleep on his lap when they watched telly or now gently washing Robin’s hair, Killian knew that simple touch, simple gestures of care, warmth, and safety were so scarce these days that the extra effort was appreciated by anyone on the receiving end.

Preening or grooming is an important mating habit, jsyk

He raked his fingers through Robin’s hair, massaging the shampoo in and scrubbing out the sweat and lingering feelings of defeat. Robin’s eyes were closed and slowly his features relaxed, following Killian’s gentle lead to tip his head back under the spray to wash away the soap suds. Then came the body wash and Killian was hesitant as he lathered up his hands and spread them across Robin’s chest. It was then that Robin opened his eyes, meeting Killian’s hesitant gaze with his own. “Can you handle it?” Killian asked.

“Yes, I think so,” Robin said; it was hard to hear him over the sound of running water, his voice hoarse from shouting on the pitch and likely from the emotions that kept him shut away in his self-imposed confinement.

Killian nodded and stepped back, going to scrub his own hair while Robin got the soap.

He sighed as he stepped into the spray, scrubbing his fingers against his scalp and inwardly bemoaning the fact that he desperately needed a haircut. With finals coming up he’d be hard pressed to find time to get it done, though perhaps he’d ask if one of Swan’s teammates knew how to cut hair.

“Killian.”

He jerked up, wiping water out of his face as Robin took a step towards him. Their lips met and Killian grunted in surprise, hands automatically moving to cup Robin’s head and circle his waist. “Make me forget,” Robin whispered against his lips. “Make me feel good, Killian, please.”

Initially I set out to do like actual penetration sex, but then every single slash panel I’ve attended was like “LUUUUUUUUBEEEEEE” and I can’t just magic lube here like I could elsewhere. So then it came down to “well, sex can be a lot of things, and not all m/m sex is penetration”. Hence how it became trading angsty blowjobs.

His cock swelled at the words and nudged Robin’s. Killian swallowed hard, pulling back only enough to look his boyfriend in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

He didn’t want this to be something Robin regretted, this large of a step in their relationship brought on only by the urge to expunge negative feelings. But by God, did he want to.

Robin gave a small nod. “Yes.”

Killian surged forward, their lips crashing together and making Robin stumble back slightly. They turned so that Robin was practically pinned against the wall but for Killian’s hand reaching down to grip his ass. They both groaned, Robin’s hips jerking up as Killian kneaded and squeezed the firm muscle. Killian moved quickly, kissing a path down his jaw and gently biting the thick cords of Robin’s neck before reaching the juncture. He bit a little more hard, then sucked. Laving his tongue against the skin, desperate to mark him in some primal need to stake his claim, and squeezed Robin’s ass in time with his sucks. Killian pulled back with a slight popping sound, then dropped to his knees, ignoring the hard tile as his free hand traced the muscled lines of Robin’s stomach. Even over the water, Killian heard Robin suck in a breath when his hand reached his cock; glancing up, Killian saw he was being watched with an intense expression and hooded eyes. “You like this?” he asked, running gentle fingers over Robin’s cock before wrapping his hand around it.

He gave it an experimental pump, watching Robin’s eyes flutter shut and his head fall back against the wall. “Ah, ah,” Killian scolded, getting used to the feel of Robin’s cock and moving his hand in firm, even strokes. “Watch me.”

Killian Jones, voyeur extraordinaire.

With that, Killian leaned forward and flicked his tongue against the head. He heard Robin groan as he tasted the salty precum leaking from the tip, then wrapped his lips around the head.

Robin’s hand fisted itself in Killian’s hair as he promptly put every other blowjob he’d ever given to shame. His tongue swirled around the head and traced the fat vein pulsing along the side of the shaft. Robin’s cries echoed through the room, his hips jerking in Killian’s hold and forcing his cock further down Killian’s throat. He only gagged the first time, not expecting it, but relaxed and tried to keep a stronger hold on Robin as he continued.

See the nice thing about giving and receiving the same things is that I only have to do details like this once. The other time is just all reactions and I can go on autopilot. It’s hard to write this stuff and make it seem fresh every time.

When one hand went to fondle Robin’s balls, that seemed to be the breaking point. Killian eagerly swallowed his release as Robin came with another shout, only wincing slightly as the hold on his hair tightened. Only when he’d licked the last of it away did Killian sit back on his haunches, looking up to see the results.

Robin slumped against the wall, head tilted back as he caught his breath. As his eyes opened, Killian grinned. “Get up here,” Robin practically growled, taking the offered hand and hauling him up.

smol and sexually frustrated Robin Locksley

Something had snapped in him; Killian felt it as Robin’s kisses became fiercer, more possessive. Killian groaned deep in his throat as Robin practically shoved him back against the wall, his mouth tracing a similar path that Killian’s had done earlier, though Robin paid attention to different areas of his body. Robin nibbled his ears before nipping his way down Killian’s neck; his hands weren’t idle either, running down Killian’s sides and kneading his ass in a decidedly greedy manner. Killian shuddered as Robin’s fingers danced along his thighs, wondering what it might feel like to be pinned to the wall and properly fucked – but that would have to be another time, when they were prepared and not trying to distract each other.

My small reminder to myself that no, we can’t penetrate here. Also a side note: I’m really conscious of how often Killian is portrayed as the “feminine” one in pairings like Captain Charming. Like, going so far as to give him “feminine” descriptors such as “whine” or “mewl” and making him the reciprocator in anal penetration. So yes, Killian likes to be fucked, (and tbh I like writing him getting fucked) but I did a lot of rereading and conscious word choice throughout this piece so it wasn’t like a “oh just replace one character with a woman and it’s the same” thing. Which happens SO MUCH in slash it’s incredible. and by incredible I mean infuriating.

As he mused, Robin slowly dipped down, pausing briefly to pay attention to Killian’s nipples and nose through the thick, wet hair covering his chest. (One of the many things Killian appreciated was that Robin was nowhere near as hairy as he was; only one of them needed to be part-wolf.) His breath hitched as Robin ran his tongue along his abs, tracing a path down to Killian’s aching cock and wasting absolutely no time at all before wrapping his lips around the head.

somehow this didn’t turn into a lycan-fic

Killian would have to take a moment later, when he wasn’t about to collapse from pleasure and when he wasn’t trying to contain screams, to appreciate that as both of them were uncircumcised, both knew exactly how to handle the other’s cock. It was a marvel, and one he would put into appreciative words.

Later.

Eventually.

Apparently this means that docking is possible, but from what I understand docking is very unsafe, so don’t try this at home unless you want ripped foreskin. #safesexwithAmanda

When his boyfriend wasn’t going down on him so earnestly, one hand playing with his balls and the other teasing Killian’s ass and making him want to melt into a puddle of goo.

He tried so hard not to rut his hips, not to fuck Robin’s mouth, but God he couldn’t help it. He did his best to keep his thrusts shallow, but then the goddamn son of a bitch sucked hard and Killian’s body jerked involuntarily; he felt the head of his cock brush the back of Robin’s throat and almost came right then.

He decided to copy Robin’s earlier move and threaded his fingers through Robin’s hair; he silently urged him to move faster, desperate for more and half-wild from the need to come. Robin obliged, his tongue swirling and his teeth ever-so-slightly grazing along the shaft and Killian vaguely tasted blood from biting his lip too hard to keep from crying out.

He didn’t remember an orgasm that powerful before, his hips rutting and rutting into Robin’s willing mouth as he came down his throat. He sagged when it was over, when he was finally spent, and released Robin’s hair to let him up. Killian fell gratefully into Robin’s kiss, both of them more relaxed and their touches more tender, less frantic than before. “Water’s getting cold,” Robin said softly, cupping Killian’s face briefly before tracing the line of his jaw.

using up a university’s ENTIRE supply of hot water, w2g boyos

“Someone interrupted my wash,” Killian said, his weak joke earning a grin in response.

Robin ducked out first, letting Killian scrub himself, though he was a bit more reluctant to wash away the feeling of Robin’s lips over his body. It was a consolation to realize they could do it all over again another time, with more time and more preparation and less chance of someone walking in on them in a somewhat public locker room.

Nothing sexy about locker rooms, he thought, Swan’s words from several months ago coming to mind, we’ll see about that. He wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but he’d give a mild update to Swan when they returned.

Perhaps. Or perhaps he’d keep this new, warm feeling in his chest to himself for a while longer. His own private happiness to keep the demons of defeat away.

Or perhaps it was a private happiness to be shared by two people; Robin’s face when Killian went to change was a complete 180 from before, soft and with a glow that matched the one Killian felt.

They kept sneaking glances at each other as they dressed, smiling when their eyes met. When Killian’s head popped through the opening of his shirt, Robin was there, moving to gently cup the back of Killian’s head and touch their foreheads together. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Anytime,” Killian replied. “Really.”

That made Robin laugh. “Next time let’s be a bit more private, though, eh?”

They slung their bags over their shoulders and Robin took Killian’s hand as they left the facility. Killian gave it a squeeze, a reassurance that it would be okay – and it would, they both knew it. Their shower dalliance bled away most of the poison but some of the sullenness would return.

But it would be okay. They had each other.

They’d be okay.

and they’ll wear each other’s jerseys and have plenty of time to get better at sex during the offseason! :D Thanks for rereading with my SUPER ENLIGHTENING commentary!

[auburnfamilynews]

Home crowd, Gus’ reputation on the line, this one’s a lock.

Did you know that Auburn football has been beating Georgia literally — literally — its entire existence?

The first time that Auburn ever set foot on a football field in intercollegiate competition ended up in a win over Georgia, and the birth of the War Eagle legend. Football season was a little backward back then, with this game being played on February 20th, 1892, but either way, the Tigers won 10-0, thus starting the Deep South’s Oldest Rivalry.

Tomorrow feels... big. It feels large. There’s more to this game than some games in recent memory. To be honest, there’s not much at stake for Auburn right now, since it would be an extreme long shot for the Tigers to make the playoff, but that’s what we said two years ago as well. Auburn likely won’t make the SEC Championship barring a perfect end to the season and a complete collapse from LSU. This is the perfect time, however, for Auburn to ruin Georgia’s season now that the Bulldogs have pulled inside the College Football Playoff top four. Pickins are ripe.

STAFF PICKS - #12 AUBURN vs #4 GEORGIA (-3) (O/U 40.5)

This fanbase is the worst group of people on the planet. They trash their otherwise gorgeous campus regularly, they bark at human beings, they relish the idea of being obnoxiously drunk, and they have the nerve to think they can storm our field and tear up our grass before hoses are turned on their sorry asses and yet decry when other teams do a little remodeling of their plants. Their coach is one of the most arrogant men in this sport, and it shows in his sometimes dumbfounding coaching decisions. He’s the most negative recruiter in the SEC, and when that doesn’t work he’s always sure to deliver the cash late to a problem-child (and talented) wide receiver out of Hoover in an attempt to cause maximum harm to Auburn. This, after faking a field goal up 17 in last year’s game with 3 minutes left. I love having a rivalry with certain programs. I used to enjoy the family aspect and crossover between us and them. Now? Now all I wish is the lack of their existence. Giant waste of space to the east of us that can’t win a big game to save their sorry asses. To hell with them. F*CK GEORGIA.

Whew. That felt…right. Now keys to victory:

Gonna have to run the ball somehow against this bunch. Don’t see our OL being up to the task of moving the line of scrimmage for 4 quarters straight up. So, despite the backup situation, give Bo Nix 5-7 called runs in this one to keep them honest.

Anthony Schwartz needs to touch the football 8 times at minimum in this game.

Boobee Whitlow needs to spell DJ Williams when he needs a breather and Auburn needs to feature #3, it’s most capable running back

Honestly let’s see a lot of the same route progressions we saw against Ole Miss. Crossing patterns work against this bunch and then once you’ve got them cheating find Seth Williams in 1 on 1 coverage.

I fully expect to surrender some painful yardage against their passing attack, but it is critical to make tackles. The team that tackles better Saturday probably wins this game.

No long field goals, Gus…please. That being said, when inside the 30 and a drive stalls, don’t be afraid to use Anders. He’s capable and can win this game for Auburn when used correctly. He ain’t his brother. Doesn’t make him a bad kicker.

Let the big men up front eat. Marlon and Derrick are gonna catch some double teams all day. We need to see maximum effort out of Big Kat, TD, Tyrone, AND YEAH YOU NICK COE so that Georgia’s OL isn’t given such an easy option.

That being said, hit Fromm. Within the confines of legality, knock his ass into the dirt. Remind him of why he should hate playing in Jordan-Hare Stadium.

Keep the crowd in this game. November games in Jordan-Hare Stadium are all about keeping the momentum going so that the crowd is engaged. It will force Georgia into mistakes. Be loud. This team still has at minimum a LOT to play for. At maximum they have an outside shot to still play for EVERYTHING. Decibels matter.

Win or lose this game, Georgia gonna Georgia and come up short on expectations. We should start taking more responsibility for that. Auburn 23 Georgia 21

-Josh Black

This is it. The game of the season. This game will ultimately define Malzahn’s legacy. “Silly Josh, Auburn has played a ton of big games under Malzahn, why is this one so special?” This year especially, the Georgia game will define the narrative this offseason. We will spend months talking about this game in particular. Beat Georgia, good season. Lose to Georgia, bad season. Simple as that. Auburn can beat this team, I know they can. I KNOW it. Auburn’s defensive line is so much better than the unit they’ll be lining up against. Derrick Brown or Marlon Davidson will earn SEC weekly honors for their performance. Auburn needs sacks, tackles for loss, turnovers, even some luck. The defense will need to go above and beyond tomorrow afternoon.

The offense will be what wins or loses the game, though. But here’s the thing: they don’t have to get a lot better overnight. Marginal improvements will be enough to win. That’s just how good our defense is. If Auburn can put together one long, sustained drive in each half that results in a touchdown, Auburn will win. Georgia has been good against the run. Our freshman running back will have his work cut out for him. To hell with georgia.

Auburn 21 Georgia 20 (Auburn covers, over)

-Josh Dub

I hate this game. I hate everything about it. I hate that we have to go over there to play them and I hate that we have to let their fans in to our stadium to watch a game. I hate that it always happens on my birthday (yes, tomorrow is my birthday). I hate that picture of that flea bitten mongrel trying to give rabies to Robert Baker. I hate Soulja Boy. I hate black jerseys. I hate the image of Uncle Vern and village idiot Gary dancing to it. I hate that they have the Battle Hymn of the Republic as their ‘Fight Song’ but not really cause they have another song that they play as their, ‘After Extra Point Attempt’ Song...ChOoSe OnE YoU CoWaRdS!!! I hate that Georgia isn’t still the Goats. Because that’s what they remind me of, barn yard animals. It’s funny that they changed the mascot to a dog so that Georgia fans wouldn’t eat the mascot after each loss (they ate the goat after we beat them 10-0 in our first game). Well, jokes on you 1890s Georgia Administration, your mountain reject, country bumpkin fan base will eat a dog for Thanksgiving cause ‘Times is tough and that dog has been eatin good! WOOO”.

Ugh. As for the game, I am gonna go with my hope that Bo keeps the Nix unbeaten streak in tact (daddy was 1-0-1 as a starter) and pulls it out with a late field goal drive to pull out the W.

Tigers 20-17

-Drew Mac

This is going to be a rock fight. Both teams struggle to throw the ball downfield. Both teams defend the run very well. That doesn’t leave much room for success on the offensive side of the ball. I think this comes down to which team can make 2 or more big plays on offense or special teams. 17 points might win it. 21 absolutely should. In a close game you take the home team, so it’s not just a bet with my heart.

Auburn 20, Georgia 16 (Auburn wins outright; UNDER)

-James Jones

F*** Georgia. I hope Derrick Brown gets blocked into Jake Fromm. 21-20 Tigers.

-Ryan Sterritt

Auburn’s defensive line is great. Georgia is struggling on the offensive line and is having to look to the bench for a center. Pressure up the middle is something Jake Fromm struggles with and I think Auburn will come after him on every third down they can. If Georgia wants to win, it has to avoid third downs.

Georgia’s defensive line is great. Auburn is struggling on the offensive line and is having to look to the bench for a center. Pressure up the middle is something Bo Nix struggles with and I think Georgia will come after him on every third down they can. If Auburn wants to win, it has to avoid third downs.

Seriously, this one is going to be an ugly gross game with a high likelihood of setting offensive football back ten years. Auburn has shown the ability to win ugly, and Georgia hasn’t had to do it as much. I like our chances at home.

Auburn 18 Georgia 15

-Son of Crow

Swing game #3 is here. At beginning of season I noted that there were 3 games that would differentiate Auburn’s season: @ A&M, @ UF & vs UGA. AU heads into tomorrow’s game 1-1 in those matchups making this an even MORE important result for how fans feel about this season. Win and at worst Auburn is 9-3 with a chance at a 10th win in bowl game but also get to laugh at UGA all offseason. Lose and AU is stuck in 8-4 world again with the heat turning scorching on Malzahn’s seat. The Iron Bowl always looms large but I would argue the result of this game will have the biggest bearing on whether folks view 2019 in a positive or negative light.

As for the matchup itself, you have the two best defenses in the SEC, possibly the country, facing two offenses that have been sporadic at best this season. Unfortunately for Auburn, their offense has had much deeper downs than UGA’s. But AU will be inside the comfy confines of Jordan-Hare which should allow Nix to play with more confidence. Kirby Smart has laid 3 straight eggs in road SEC West matchups. Those things give me confidence. But UGA not allowing any rushing TDs, AU’s inability to muster any sort of consistent offensive success against a good defense & Anders recent struggles give me great concern.

Impartially, I would probably lean UGA. This game will come down to how Bo Nix & Jake Fromm handle playing elite defenses and Anders Carlson vs Rodrigo Blankenship’s abilities to make any opportunity count for points. Both of those matchups probably tilt UGA’s favor.

But I believe in the power of Jordan-Hare. After the controversy two weeks ago, I expect that place to be rocking uncontrollably. My guess is we are about to see this Auburn defenses’s best performance of the season which is saying something. It’s gonna be low scoring, painful to watch at times but in the end, Auburn’s front 4 proves to be the best unit on the field and that’s the difference.

Auburn 20 UGA 17

-AU Nerd

Someone in the group chat mentioned it, and I think it’s about as accurate as it can get... this edition of the DSOR could end up like a classic Tuberville type of game. Auburn and Georgia both have shown a propensity to struggle on offense this season, and both have defenses that have been more than good. One side’s got an experienced quarterback, but one’s got the quarterback with a higher upside for something spectacular. When are we going to see the explosion of immense talent turn into a calculated offensive attack from Bo Nix? It’s gotta be soon.

Although, I don’t think it’ll be this game. We’re going to have to grind this out and hit one or two more big plays than they do. I don’t feel super confident if we get into a field goal kicking matchup with Anders Carlson against their rec specs pre-teen beardy kicker, so that’s why we won’t have to worry about it.

With a week off, Gus will have cooked something up for this game, and he will have learned from the mistakes of the Florida game and LSU game. We can’t win this game on Bo’s arm alone, and we need to involve all of the playmakers on the team. Minimize mistakes, and let Georgia make the miscues. They’ll make more than a couple with a potential third-string center starting against Derrick Brown. Auburn might have the two best linemen in the conference in Brown and Marlon Davidson, and I think the linebackers will be up to the task of containing the Bulldog running game.

For all of the talent on the outside, Georgia’s passing game has been slow and stodgy this season, almost like nothing changed from Richt to Kirby. Jake Fromm hasn’t exactly burned the conference this year so far, even with Lawrence Cager (who might be out), Georgia Pickens (who deserves to get planted), and Demetris Robertson. None of those guys have more than 470 yards receiving so far this year, which is not what they expected out of this offense, I’m sure.

In the end, the Auburn defense is going to grab two turnovers, and they’ll take Fromm down 5 times, while pressuring him a bunch more and limiting the run. Bo Nix’s stats are pretty pedestrian, but we get a couple of long runs from D.J. Williams, and a big pass play each to Seth Williams and Anthony Schwartz. Somebody unexpected will make the play, so I’m looking at Jay Jay Wilson for the game-winning touchdown catch before the defense stops the last gasp Georgia drive. Tigers play spoiler and chaos reigns again.

Auburn 24, Georgia 20.

-Jack Condon

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