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polarisbibliotheque · 11 months

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Survivor's Blood (Leon x Reader) - Chapter 5

Survivor's Blood

Pairing: Leon x Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (you are here!)

Summary: After Raccoon City, Leon became the only Government agent with that kind of expertise. With relentless training, he was now a Special Agent - again, on his first day in the job. He just didn’t expect to live Raccoon City all over again… Maybe Leon was fated to always have the worst first-days-at-work ever.

Age Restriction: 18+. It’s horror, so expect a lot of graphic violence and blood dripping from this. I mean, VERY GRAPHICAL VIOLENCE. Nothing we haven’t seen on RE, but still. Yee been warned

TRIGGER WARNING: Bloody hospital. Really. Bloody, horror movie hospital :|

Author’s notes: Took some time, but hey, we're here!! Funfact: I have this extention on my browser that changes some words of what I'm reading to a target language I'm wanting to learn, and now Magical Donuts appear in my browser as Magical Beignets. I absolutely adored it and I might re-read everything just to laugh at the random French words being thrown here.

I hope you like how it's turning out!! A lot more to come!! And thank you so much for reading and being around ^^

Chapter 5

Hospital Arklay Hill, April 29th, 2001 – 22h03

The way to the hospital was a lot quieter than any of you could have anticipated. The rule was to save ammo and move without drawing attention, always trying to get to the hospital as fast as possible. Even though you were in Leon’s schedule, you still considered yourselves late.

You followed with Leon leading the way, as agreed. He dreaded the possibility of you getting caught by surprise if you were ahead of him – even if you said you knew your way around guns, Leon had a certain trauma of losing people in situations like the one you found yourselves in.

“Y/n. Can you talk to Valerie?” As soon as you found shelter behind an ambulance tumbled in the street, he finally talked to you. “We’re almost there.”

“Yeah, I can.” You started fumbling with the radio, its only purpose to communicate with the hospital survivors. You spoke with no answer for a while until you heard a hiss in response, fixing the frequency so you could hear it better. “Valerie? Can you hear me well?”

“Hi, y/n? Yes! Yes, I can!” The woman was clearly smiling, being washed by the happiness of knowing you didn’t abandon them. “How are you? Did you meet Leon?”

“Yeah, he’s here with me.”

“Hey, we’re almost there, Valerie.” Leon sat by your side, close enough so you touched shoulders. You kept the radio near your faces, making you both lean into it a little so you didn’t have to speak too loud.

“We need to know where you are in the hospital.” You added, glancing quickly at Leon. “And if you can go to a place where the extraction will be easier.”

“I don’t know if we can… I don’t even know where an easier place would be in here.” Valerie sighed, speaking in a lower voice tone while the other survivors argued about something else. “Almost all the patients got affected by this… I don’t know… Epidemics? I don’t even know how to call it.” She shook her head, sitting in the corner of the room so she could guarantee a little peace. “We managed to lock ourselves in one of the exam rooms; it’s not that hard to get here… After the reception, you need to turn right and then left in a long corridor. In this corridor, there’ll be a lot of doors: the third one to the right, you’ll get into a restricted area, the corridor to the exam rooms. We are in the…” And Valerie took a few seconds, mentally counting. “Fifth? Sixth door to the left? Sorry, I can’t remember for sure… But when you get here, we’ll hear you.”

“Hmmm, just a sec…” You had a good memory and Leon was trained to keep a good amount of information, especially in moments like those. But he had no idea of the hospital’s architecture and with that, you could help. “Leon, you wouldn’t happen to have a pen in one of those many magic pockets, would you…?”

Leon furrowed his brows, giving you a funny look as if asking what the hell you were thinking at the same time he scolded your comment about him taking so many things to the field. After Raccoon City, he became stupidly proficient in inventory management in the field and he had a good idea what was useful or not. A map and a pen proved to be crucial when he got stuck in the police department and roaming around the underground laboratory, trying to find everything he needed to leave those places.

So yes, even though he didn’t want to admit, he had a pen that he took off one of his many pockets almost against his will. That only made you smile.

“Thank you, Mary Poppins. You wouldn’t happen to have a piece of paper too, right…?”

Leon rolled his eyes as he took the map he folded enough to fit one of the pockets. Of every nickname he could have had in his lifetime, ‘Mary Poppins’ would be the last he would’ve imagined to be graced with.

“Ok, here we go…” You held the pen cap between your teeth while laying the map on your thighs. Leon could only hold the radio and accept his fate. “Can you repeat it, Valerie? Please?”

As the woman spoke, you drew a little map of the hospital on the back of the city’s map, trying to remember the sizes of the rooms so Leon would have a better idea of the place you were going in – as well as help you remember all the details without having to call Valerie all the time.

“It isn’t that far away from the hospital entrance.” You showed the place in the improvised map. You pointed the path with the pen. “If we clear the way from the entrance to the exam room, we won’t have to go in deeper and, with a little luck, we’ll be able to leave with no further problems.”

“Hmmm…” Leon analyzed the drawing. You were right, but… “There are other rooms along the way, right?” You just nodded in response. “There’s no way for us to know how many zombies are inside each room and if they are open or not. We can clean the way there, but it’s always possible for something to appear along the way.”

“That’s why one of us should lead the way and the other should be on the back, as we’re doing right now.”

“Ok. I’ll go ahead when we get there and, when we’re leaving, I’ll be on the back and you’ll lead.” Leon checked how many bullets he had left on his handgun – up until that moment, he didn’t see a use for the shotgun but that was about to change. He could feel it. “I think it’s worse if something we don’t know follow us from the inside of the hospital than another zombie crossing our already cleared path.”

“Fair enough.” You agreed more so you wouldn’t argue than anything else: you had lots of arguments to state you were more than capable of dealing with whatever creature that appeared from the insides of the hospital, but you could delay that argument.

“I need to warn you…” Again, Valerie lowered her voice. She was quiet for a while, considering if she would continue the warning. “I’m not sure what I saw. But I think… I think I saw… Something… Different from the people who were infected. Horrible. It looked like it was out of a horror movie…

“What was it, Valerie?” Up until that moment, Leon had reasons to believe what happened in that city was the result of a virus outbreak, but other creatures? Raccoon City was used as a laboratory, but New Setosa? Was it a field test? Whose? Umbrella’s? A lot of questions crossed his head at the same time; and none had an answer. “Can you describe it to me?”

“No. I can’t.” The woman’s answer was adamant. “I closed my eyes and remained quiet. But it looked like… An animal. That thing couldn’t be human. It wasn’t human.

“How many are there?”

“I don’t know either. I just saw one and when I realized it was far, I ran the fastest I could and didn’t leave this room anymore.” She remained in silence while you both waited patiently. “Out of everything that’s out there, that’s what I’m afraid the most.”

“We’ll find a way. If we find one of these things along the way, we’ll manage.” You had certainty in your voice, making Leon discreetly look at you. It was incredible how you remained brave, even if apparently – even when you had all the reasons to be scared.

As the conversation came to an end, you went back to your walk towards the hospital – now you could see the big, white building with green windows in the distance; the luminous sign with the letters spelling “Hospital Arklay Hill” was clearly stained with blood and some of them had a hard time shining, twinkling among the darkness of that night.

“Do you know what she was talking about, Leon?” Your question was quiet, following him as fast as you could without attracting a horde of zombies.

“I’m not sure…” He glanced quickly over his shoulders. “I saw a lot of things that couldn’t be considered human in Raccoon, that’s why I asked her to describe it to me. It’d be easier if we went in knowing what we’ll find, but the virus affects people in different ways: some become undead, others mutate into things that could easily come out of a horror movie.”

That made you think in silence – it wasn’t just Leon who had his doubts about what was going on in New Setosa. Initially, everyone thought it was a sudden epidemics of a virus attacking the nervous system: some people were quarantined in the hospital, until it started to spread – you had never seen a disease that spread so quickly. You also had never seen a pandemics, but that’s how you imagined an epicenter to be: non-stop contagion, loss of control and deaths. So many deaths.

You were scared. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were. Your feet didn’t really want to follow your will to move forward – but, if you didn’t go with Leon, he would have to go in alone.

And if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t want to be alone – as well as if you were one of those people in the hospital, you would want someone to save you. You couldn’t turn back now.

“Are you ok?” Leon checked while taking the map from one of his pockets to make sure you were in the right path and what the objective was. Leon remembered quite well, but he wanted to have a better idea – and maybe, seeing the hospital in the distance, he could understand the proportions of the rooms better. “You’re too quiet all of a sudden.”

“We barely know each other and there you are, already saying I talk too much.” You raised one eyebrow as he just took a deep breath to tell you how wrong you were. “Relax. I know. I just needed to release some tension. We need to go to the second hall and turn in the first corridor.”

“The second hall is through that door, right?” He pointed to a passage closed by a milky glass door, blocking your view of the next room. You nodded in agreement. “Let’s go then. Time to hope we won’t find the thing that worries Valerie.”

With a gesture from his hands, you prepared your gun and, now walking by his side, you quickly followed to the door you hoped would still work. As soon as you approached, the doors glided open enough for just one of you to squeeze through, jamming midway open with a strength that made it tremble. You exchanged looks and Leon crossed to the other side before you, immediately checking the right side of the room as you followed him and checked the left side.

It smelled like death. The hall was big enough to harbor a considerable amount of undead, but you found only three. One of them didn’t seem to understand how to move around the reception desk and let itself free from wherever it was stuck, another was stationary, staring at you both. And the third was banging mercilessly at the vending machine, as if it had swallowed its coin and it didn’t spew out whatever it had bought. The rest, was the classic: dead people torn apart on the floor and chairs, the walls stained in blood.

“We’re running through them?” Your question was valid: you had noticed Leon had a tendency to save each and whatever resource you found or had along the way, so you thought it was better to check before doing anything.

“Hmmm…” Leon thought for a while. Going through was a good option, but it would be a problem if you found anything worse in the corridor. If that was the case, you would be stuck, with problems in the front and in the back. “We don’t know what’s in the corridor, we might get sandwiched between this problem and something worse.”

“I didn’t think of that.” Even if your answer was serious, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing internally at his choice of words. After all, it wasn’t everyday you heard ‘sandwiched’ in such a serious conversation. “Let’s go then.”

With those words, you pointed your gun to the stationary zombie as Leon followed to the reception. With two certain shots, you both wiped out those zombies, drawing the attention of the third one, who slowly turned around and finally reached out to you, dragging itself as you met Leon in the middle of the room once more. With coordinated shots, the vending machine zombie was exterminated.

“If I knew you’d shoot as well, I’d have saved the bullet.” Leon gave you a small smile, making you mirror his expression. “You shoot better than a lot of people I met.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” You answered in a quick laugh, walking by his side towards the long corridor you now needed to cross.

Leon would have asked what you meant with those words, but as soon as you reached the big white doors that blocked the corridor, you fell silent. You were lucky the survivors at least tried to leave and ended up close to the entrance: the place was huge and if they were in the most distant wings, you would have serious problems.

With your backs to the door, each of you on each side, you waited until he nodded in a sign for you to enter. You both pushed the heavy door quickly, pointing the guns as soon as you entered the corridor, ready to shoot the first thing that appeared in front of your eyes.

But there was nothing.

The corridor stretched into a pitch black darkness with broken light bulbs that twinkled in whatever rhythm, humming with the energy that crossed the useless filaments. A couple of bodies were thrown on the floor – at least as far as your eyes could see – chewed by something… Different. The walls had blood stains in shapes of hands, on the floor, feet that tried to flee in despair. Beds, syringes, gloves, hospital paraphernalia… It was all tossed along the way, as if the place was hit by a hurricane – and now, it laid in a heavy silence in the foul air.

In Leon’s experience, that kind of situation was worse than the chaos: when there were screams of despair, you usually knew what was attacking and where the survivors were. When there was only silence, all you could do was to pay attention to whatever noises and hope you wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

“Stay alert.” Leon murmured as low as he could, leading the way. Your steps were calmer and a lot more careful now that you didn’t know what you could find. With his eyes now getting used to the lack of light, Leon found the door Valerie told you about – a little farther than he had expected.

Your steps were quiet behind Leon: even if you knew how to shoot and you wanted to be there, you couldn’t deny he was the best person to lead the way – after all, he was trained to that kind of situation.

You carefully dodged the pools of blood on the floor. You didn’t want to run the risk of slipping and falling over all that mess – you were already sufficiently dirty and all you wanted was a good shower to feel as good as new. As you crossed a good part of the corridor, you approached the first passage to the right that connected that corridor to another hospital wing – through another equally dark corridor.

You would’ve had normally walked by it if you hadn’t heard a strange noise coming from that corridor.

It was like an animal’s hiss. You allowed Leon to keep walking as you turned around to make sure there was nothing else needing rescue.

And it was the first time you saw that.

A creature that looked like it had no skin, with long claws, roaming the corridor with its four paws on the floor; sharp teeth framing a long, menacing tongue. You froze in place, terror filling your eyes. It was the most horrible thing you had ever seen in your life and you didn’t know what to do. Had that thing seen you? Should you shoot?

Before you could make any kind of noise, though, one of Leon’s hands quickly covered your mouth, pulling you towards him. You didn’t resist: with eyes wide open, you turned to him and found Leon with one of his fingers on his own lips so you would remain silent. You nodded frantically and, as he let you go, Leon held one of your hands and started walking as silently as he could so you could reach the door Valerie told you about.

It wasn’t that far away, but it seemed enough for a marathon. You heard that thing sniffing around, paws heavily hitting the floor, chasing you: slowly, calculated, searching for something it knew it was escaping. The claws scratched the hospital floor, the animal hiss louder and louder. You held Leon’s hand with a little more strength.

If you had to choose how to die, it would be by zombie. Never by something like that thing that chased you.

You risked a look above your shoulders, finding that thing finally reaching the spot in the corridor where you were before. There was so little left for you to reach the door. Leon pulled you closer, walking a few last steps to get to the next passage.

You almost said something when you saw that thing jerking its ugly head towards you. Stopping in front of the door, Leon finally looked at it: they were about to be noticed. You were so close. It knew.

Leon looked at you and tried, as best as possible, to tell you through hand signs to run as soon as he opened the door. You nodded in affirmation and, as soon as Leon pushed one of the metal bars to open it, the thing raised its head like a dog, screeching like chalk on a board, viciously running towards you.

“Go!” Leon did his best so you entered the corridor before him, quickly following. To your terror, the thing that chased you was too fast.

Leon wouldn’t be able to get in: having crossed the door, you saw the claws of that thing already prepared to tear his back open – and that would be a huge problem.

As he tried to escape, you didn’t think twice: aiming your gun, you almost emptied it in that thing’s head. You didn’t know how many bullets you needed, nor how many of them were there, and you didn’t even care if you needed to go on in complete silence – you wouldn’t allow that thing to kill Leon in such a stupid manner.

The creature fell heavily on the floor while Leon stumbled into the corridor you found yourself in. That thing’s tongue stretched until almost hitting your feet, as if even in death it wanted to tear you apart.

“What the fuck is this?!” That was the only thing you managed to ask, still staring at that thing with widened eyes, your hands trembling on your gun. You didn’t even have to state the adrenaline shock had been strong.

“Dunno. The guys at the station called it Licker.” Leon took a few deep breaths, a little discombobulated by how you had emptied your gun on the Licker instead of running in despair or screaming for help – saving his life in the process. “The good news, they are as blind as a bat. The bad news, those things smell and hear very well, so we need to be very careful and not make any noises when we see one of them.”

“Hmmm… I remember that name, Claire mentioned it a few times…” You also took a deep breath, giving that thing a last look. “I didn’t think it would be that ugly. And scary.”

“Oh, c’mon. They could win a beauty pageant.” Albeit the seriousness, you could hear a hint of a laugh in the back of his voice as you got back on track.

At least you were lucky enough for that place to be empty.

“I’ve never seen such a funny person in an apocalypse.” You aimed your gun above Leon’s shoulders in case something appeared in front of him. You didn’t hear any menacing noises, but that was only worse, considering the situation.

“Well, not my first apocalypse.” He shrugged, thinking about his own words. Who would’ve known one day he would find himself saying something like that. He imagined where he would be in four or five years, how he would handle that kind of situation. He hoped he would be an agent who feared nothing and could deal with things objectively, and even with a certain level of humor. “Which door? Fourth or fifth?”

“Actually, fifth or sixth. She didn’t really know.” You corrected him, pointing to the nearest door. “Let’s go?”

“Yeah. You go ahead.” He pointed the door with his head, giving you cover.

“Valerie?” You lightly knocked on the door to avoid too many noises, even if you had just done a whole rock show with all those shots in the Licker’s head a while ago. You didn’t notice, but a hiss echoed from the end of the corridor, making Leon aim his gun and his flashlight into the darkness, finding anything in return. “It’s us! Y/n and Leon!”

You heard a commotion inside the room and it confirmed you were at the right door. While the click of it opening and the handle moved to greet you, the hiss repeated itself, louder – but, as soon as the door opened, the sound of claws hitting the floor added to the soundtrack.

You, Leon and Valerie looked in the direction of the origin of the sounds – with the claws taking a vicious speed – making you hold Leon by his bulletproof vest and run inside the room as fast as you could, not allowing him nor Valerie to think of something else. The nurse, though, was quick enough to lock the door as soon as you stumbled inside, making the creature lose your track – without ever leaving the corridor.

“You’re here! Alive!” Valerie immediately locked her arms around your neck, holding you as if there was no tomorrow. You widened your eyes, glancing at Leon. He just giggled: it wasn’t everyday he saw someone so uncomfortable with hugs as you seemed to be at that moment. “Thank you so much…!”

“Thank you for what, Valerie?” A grumpy man interrupted the moment, stuffing his clammy hands in the dirty lab coat pocket. “They can very well end up locked up in here with us! They haven’t done anything to save us yet!”

“But we will, sir.” Leon tried to be diplomatic, noticing not so friendly looks shot at the man from you and Valerie. Someone had to be the voice of reason in there, or the very survivors would end up killing each other. “The goal is to leave here right now so we’ll get to the school at 22h20.”

“And then we’re gonna do what? Open the books and start studyin’?” The man wiped some of the sweat that dripped from his greasy hair, his little eyes filled with anger amidst that stuffy room. “Or you’re gonna find a magic way to get us out of this damned city?”

If Leon was younger, he would’ve answered with calm and patience.

But he wasn’t that rookie cop from Raccoon City anymore. He didn’t need to have that much patience. Not after all he had been through.

“As Special Agent from the Government working under direct orders from the President, I have a special task team with the best soldiers from the army, ready for an extraction operation of the survivors in New Setosa.” Leon was probably being too harsh, but, honestly, someone would have to put that guy in his place, be it by being gentle or by brute force. And, right now, Leon wasn’t that inclined to being gentle. “I think it’s enough magic to deal with this situation.”

And that talk was over.

“Under direct orders from the President…?” You had your arms crossed, slowly approaching Leon while he organized what was left of the ammo and loaded the shotgun. He raised his eyes to you, finding you with a small smile coloring your lips. That made Leon mirror your reaction, a little embarrassed by the way he spoke before.

But that guy really pissed him off.

After his answer, the survivors gathered to listen to the instructions on how they would cross the city to the school – having that little intermission to prepare ammo, items they wanted to take with them, care for any wounds and get ready for the journey to safety. And, while Leon got ready in his own lone corner of the room, you approached to talk to him.

“Yeah… That’s what happens when you survive a disaster like Raccoon.” He sighed slightly. “I ended up as a Special Agent just because of that, I’m the only one with this expertise.”

“I doubt all Special Agents have direct orders from the President of the United States.” You leaned on the bed Leon used to keep the guns and ammo as he counted and organized them. “C’mon, Leon. You didn’t get here ‘just’ because your star twinkled in Raccoon. To have this kind of job, you need to not only be a good agent, but an intelligent one as well.”

“Oh, well…” Leon shrugged, feeling his cheeks slightly burning and trying to do his best for you not to notice it. At least he was lucky: the lights from the room were broken. “You’re gonna have to ask that to the President.”

You narrowed your eyes, smiling right after. You didn’t know if it was just something he was saying to escape that conversation and dodge a compliment or if he was trying to tease you.

And, when you noticed the ghost of a smile in the corner of his lips, you knew it was a bit of both.

“So cocky.” You muttered back, making him raise his eyebrows and stare you in shock – but clearly holding back a laugh. “After that, I’ll only leave you with the shotgun ‘cause you’re the one dealing with that monstrosity outside, Mr. super-government-agent friends with the President.”

“Ok, I’m not complainin’.” And he loaded said gun, already leaving it ready with the strap across his shoulders. “Here. More ammo for your gun. After you shot that Licker like a cowboy, you’re gonna need it.”

“And I would’ve shot it more if I could.” You answered while reloading your handgun. Two magazines were probably more than Leon could give you at the moment – but you had already learned he had a big heart. “I’ll lead the way? As we agreed before?”

“I’m the one with the shotgun, ain’t I?” He raised one eyebrow, making you flash a little smile at the answer. “At that pace, you’ll end up workin’ for the President as well.”

“Yeah, right…” You shook your head, deflecting the compliment. Even so, you winked back at him. “If you’re my partner, I’ll think about it.”

“I can make that happen, alright?” Leon pointed at you, making you giggle. “You ready? It’s time to go.”

“Yeah. I think you should ask them that.”

Indeed, the survivors didn’t look too excited – but as Leon knew quite well, you didn’t need excitement to save your own life: you just had to run and never look back.

To be continued...

19 notes · View notes

itsfuckinganne · 1 year

Text

a better update

it is December 28, 2022 n my year has been a big learning lesson. a lot of it, most of it, really hurt. I chose myself a lot this year and completed my year’s resolution which is to set boundaries. I honestly dont understand why I took this long to act upon the things I want 4 myself but im not surprised. im a very stubborn person and all I do is deflect by creating a different scenario in my brain. das why ive been in this continuous cycle of getting played by the game and I jus..let it happen. I craved things that were not ready 4 me and it made me realize how I keep repeating it LMAOOO but this year I broke some serious habits and reenforced the comfortability of my space. therapy helped a lot (shout out Tina Merced, you are a very kind woman. u are one of the only people who has figured me out..) and having a positive feedback ab my decisions and how I think helps me understand myself. it felt (past tense/explain later) really good to just focus on what I plan 2 do next year. last year I just really wanted to show up 4 everyone more so I ended up acting upon emotion rather than balancing it out w/ what’s realistic. *I forgot what word 2 use in the last sentence so I went on my phone to change the song and then I remembered. I'm listening 2 defibrillator by smino*

anyways, yeah this year I showed up for myself even if it hurt a lot to let go and I feel a lil lighter. im guilty of a lot, especially how present I am in my rlsps, and I am still for a bit more, but im doing better and those close 2 me see it. I said this all in past tense because Im a lil hurt right now, but it's just an owie. I allowed myself 2 give someone a benefit of the doubt and I feel as if they abused it a little. I know when I reread this in the future 2 reflect, I'll know exactly what im talking about. rather than feeling sad, im SO disappointed. i was feeling a lil better and I thought that would be okay, but I shouldn't disregard my accomplishments cus they're worthy of celebrating. allowing myself to forgive but just being proven right is horrible. it was a real wake up call to continue my self love journey cus I was getting some where and it was somewhere good. my best friend told me that “I know youre a good person and you do too so u dont have to give people multiple chances to prove that” and it struck hard (but 4 the better). I appreciate the transparency that I have w/ my friendships cus w/o it, I probably wouldn't b able to keep myself accountable, but I have been recently and thats why 2023 is going to be a good year. I wonder what karmic situations im going 2 be in. im not anticipating bad, but I can handle some lessons. im allowing myself 2 learn and thats my true end goal. at the end of the day, im just figuring it out. I dont think im doing that bad, but some reassurance would b amazing. I know I am worthy of everything I desire. to have, to feel, to experience. Im going 2 move forward so I can live better 4 myself. by doing that, taking this time, I can show up better. I want 2 do better, b better, all the things ive imagined myself to b. I cant believe I spent so much time settling 4 what I have cus Im constantly validated. the issues r real. I need 2 tell Tina ab this bcuz it makes so much sense. people pleasing cus nothing I ever did pleased my dad. that shit hurtsss, not gonna lie. but thats what I mean, im learning more and applying what I have 2 in my life and its working. by realizing that the pattern exists bcuz I dont rly speak or ever knew that was an issue. it hurts a bit 2 realize that someone who was a part of my life is now booted out of the next year. in pain bcuz I sat through conversations of him telling me how much he loves me, and how I cld b his polly pocket so he could take me everywhere, and how his family loves me, and all these other things and he STILL ran w/ what he wanted. honesty is the best policy and this lil set up pushed me to let go and let live. I wish I cld cry more, im purging the fuck outta this because I cannot let it repeat anymore. I also learned that some people only last so long in your life bcuz of how you coexist together. cutting ties w/ ppl you used to b family with takes a piece of you that dissipates like the rlsps thats gone. sounds dramatic, but that breakup was horrible. also, my dating life was quite the shit show. had my hinge phase, coworkers phase, toxic situation ship (two of those..at the same time but in my defense I was nvr asked 2 b a gf.), & my celibate phase. I nvr intended 2 dissect but it was rough 4 everyone I know and myself. im blessed enough 2 be surrounded by people who want whats best 4 me cus the goal is something we all agree on. 2022 you helped me show up 4 myself better. 2023 were going 2 show up better for ourselves and those around us. ive realized so much (1:11am , im sry in advance) & Ima share w/ some privacy of course. high school situationships r finally cut and I jus cant believe it but im happy 4 everyone whos living in love. realizing im the problem , speaks for itself. im officially tired. thats an update 4 ya

my fit 2day

goodnight

happy new year

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therealrpalmas · 7 months

Text

Signal Boost

There must be something we can do! Mercutio rose, still more than half surprised she could actually stand and move without pain, and reordered the stained and torn garments she wore. The bright light from the star cast weird shadows as it swung gently from its chain. We can't just sit here and wait for them to find us.

Maybe you can, the Silent One replied. There is little I can do to defend myself. Anything I do will have a detrimental effect on my people as well.

Can't you call for help?

There was bitter tinge to Tywan's answering thought. Help? Who would help us?

People from other adytums?

They would be spotted by Overwatch and shot as soon as they appear. They are on high alert. And even if they could come out, even if they could attack in force, sticks and slings are no match against the weapons the Outsiders deploy.

Mercutio began to pace. If only I had my equipment, maybe I could reach… She froze again. You talked to Ciadan.

Yes. The minds of many Silent Ones, banded together. If we try that now… The wall of flesh shivered.

She said she'd be watching. She was aware of the dangers of the situation… If only I could talk to her myself. Or to Nightstar… if we could reach Nightstar and get them to translate equipment down, boosters, a force dome… She kicked against a piece of debris, snarling her frustration. If only I had my equipment here.

No use. They are jamming all comm signals but their own. That is new. Seems they are anticipating such an action.

Mercutio muttered a curse. There must be someth- Then she halted abruptly and whirled around to face Tywan. There might be. There just might be. But I'll need your help.

What do you have in mind?

In answer Mercutio send a memory back. The first time she had met Whil, after she had crashed on their world. He and his friends had found her. He had touched her. And in that moment a brief connection had been forged between them, mind to mind. It had allowed her to learn their language, it had transferred memories between them, and maybe more…

The touch had ended then, and the connection had dimmed. But it had never been precisely gone, had it? And later, much later, Mercutio and her friends had shared more.

If I can activate that… if I can reach out to him, contact him, let them know we need help… But I can't do that alone, I have no idea how far away they are. Hiding nearby? Withdrawn to the edge of the solar system until they receive word from Ciadan?

There was a long silence as Tywan contemplated the options. I cannot reach out to the other Silent Ones, as I said, he sent at last. I can use my own power to boost you. But it's risky. It wasn't hard to catch the feeling beneath it. After healing Mercutio, boosting her might cost the Silent One all he had, and more. However, since I fear there are no other options… Tywan gave another mental sigh. Hurry up, then. Before it's too late. Before there is nobody left.

Mercutio nodded and concentrated. She sat down and leaned against Tywan again, feeling the warmth of his flesh, the nearness of his mind. Once again her hand wrapped around the star. She reached deep inside herself, took the memories she had of her friend and reached out to them. She remembered how she had felt when she heard his voice outside, or thought she had heard his voice, some strange illusion. Then she couldn't answer. But now she reached out, reached out with her mind, Whil Whil WHIL WHIL

and she felt Tywan's mind lift her, boost her like a rocket, she felt the immense power of his mind, and what once had been a whisper now became a shout WHIL WHIL WHIL

and contact. Very faint, but undeniably there.

Mercutio is that you I can hear you no radio wait what where?

Whil no time no time listen planetside coordinates fuck where not far from where I landed there's a massive attack there people trapped inside find me lock onto me send a package down there are people trapped need to get them out send boosters send force dome do it quick do it now

Fainter than a whisper even …see what I can do don't go anywhere wait

But before she could answer the mind which boosted her grew fainter fainter wilted and with one last despairing cry WHIL! the mind faltered faded gone

Gone.

Mercutio sat with her back against Tywan's cooling flesh and cried.

#whumptober 2023 #no.28 #sacrifice #oc #writing #trapped #telepathy #under attack #despair #reaching out #scream for help #alone #nightstar universe #science fiction #my writing

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ofcarnvge · 1 year

Text

Unarmed

@annalis-e--shadowofpanem

“What do you remember about your old blueprint?” Bowen guided Molly and Pan through the kitchen doors into a vast great room, where the walls curved around the space rather than met at corners at the edges. Natural light flooded the space, sunshine bouncing eagerly off the crystals of an atypical chandelier.

“It was never finished,” Pan replied. Her eyes drifted around the space, from the grand piano in the center, to the vanilla furniture scattered strategically across the room. “I discarded it in favor of Casa Del Doi, with the goal of building something that incorporates architectural styles that were dissimilar to what could be found in China. I wanted to bring another piece of the beauty of the world into the home...”

Bowen brought her mothers to a mantle over the fireplace. A small plaque on the mantle, small enough to miss bold gold with pride, bore the names of the two matriarchs of the Reass-Doi Zhou family. “You and mum finished it together,” she said. “It took you two weeks to draw it up and make amendments that a building planner would approve. Seven months to build. You were just in time to deliver us.” She pointed to a lounge chair in front of a large picture window that looked out sea. “Right there.”

Moments rolled by the window like film playing back on a projector. A long, endless story of anticipation mixed with pain, fear and worry. But the Pan that would be could gaze into Molly’s eyes, and and eject the panic from her skin like poison from her pores. Even on the road ahead, Molly’s presence alone kept all demons at bay. The image rolled on, and two toddlers approached the window, enraptured by the rainfall, enthralled by sunlight, captured by the water frozen by winter... Seasons and season passed, and there was a new reason to stop in front of the window and just...stare.

“A lot of our life happens at this window,” Bowen spoke. "Mum picked up the pieces of my first broken heart and taught me what it meant to heal, not just endure. Lucky came home one day with a scraped knee and you bandaged it and held her until the pain didn’t bother her anymore, telling her that pain was a fact of life and how we react to it will define us for all of our lives We learned the difference between right and wrong, learned how to accept our differences... I learned to dance here, Lucky practiced her first guitar concerto here...”

“Reach.” While Bowen held tight to Molly’s hand, Lucky came to grasp Pan’s. “This crazy thing from beyond the stars that made us a family long before we ever existed. We met a poet and an empress right here, and they taught us what this was, and we didn’t even have to leave this window.”

Two generations of hope and determination stood in front of a window, gazing out at the sea and the lighthouse on the cliffside, watching the view evolve over time.

“We learned a lot,” Lucky rested her head on her mother’s side. “Right here, in front of this window.”

The lights came on and Eleanor’s heart fell somewhere beneath her, with the cavity immediately being filled by a barrage of humorous insults that all rushed to be the first to leave her mouth. “If I had known,” Eleanor rested her hands on her hips. “I would have come to rescue you from this grim excuse of a cellar years ago. Congratulations, Floss; you’re a bigger disappointment than my ex-lover.”

Amy took stock of her surroundings, her mind folding over the situation, crafting plots. She replayed her decision over and over again and her usual cunning was wholly absent from it. It was based entirely on the widened doe eyes of a scared woman, who, too, forgot she was hunting in the moment.

A small kunai twirled between her fingers. “Well, lets look at what we know. She tracked the Eboncry, which means we, at the very least, have a loose end in her and her contact. Easier for us if the loose end comes to us, perhaps with her, we can find the other--if we need to. Also, she’s one person, and according to this Amber, her only other regular contact is remote. When I confronted her at the airport, instead of coming up with an alternate plan of engagement, she bolted, which means that regardless of how equipped or not she may be to engage one of us, she was not mentally prepared to, and probably had no intention to in the first place. I believe her entire purpose was to surveil. So, if she’s in search of answers, I say let’s hear the questions. The kunai vanished between an idle flip. “Besides, if she is a Viper, her employer is dead. Who else does she have left to report to?”

“Back up.” Eleanor took one of the remaining bottles still left on the rack and sighed pithily. She looked back up to Amy. “She sees you and just...runs? You, specifically. Not Pan, not O-Ren, you. And her first instinct is make a break for it? A Viper, unknown until recently to everyone here, breaks her entire cover and runs at the sheer sight of you? I love you, Amy, but you’ve made a career out of being inconspicuous. Why does she know you at all? And why does someone with her affiliation and talent default to fleeing the scene at the sight of you?” Pleading, the palms of her hands brought together, she turned to Floss. “You’re more of a behavioral expert than I--maybe you can explain it better than I can.”

Confusion wrapped itself around Amy’s head and squeezed tightly. “Explain what?”

Every phone in the room buzzed. Wow, Amber texted, ur really fuckin dense. Attached to the following text was a CCTV screenshot of Mallory, crudely edited with heart eyes over her face. I don’t blame her, the last text read, ur kinda hot tho.

Amy looked up at the two other Shadows and shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”

Lucky leant against Molly’s side, and Molly’s hand lay naturally on her daughter’s shoulder. The window was just that, a beautiful bay window overlooking the water. But life was outside, and then it wasn't, then it was-

“Liss, Liss honey. Look at me, look at me.” Molly held her lover firmly by her forearms where she perched on the edge of the lounge chair. Molly knelt on the floor.

“Breathe into it and...out...” she puffed her cheeks out with the exhale, and at the point where their hands latched on one another's arms she could feel herself wicking the pain of the contraction out of Liss’ body. Like paper drawing up ink. Like pain was a thing you could hold. They were sharing the weight of it.

“I’ve got it.” she winced a little. “I’ve got it, just breathe.”

Molly hadn't learnt this skill yet, but she would. The sharpness of the contraction jolted the memory back into the window. She held onto Bowen’s shoulder for strength, Lucky anchoring her by the other hand.

Time was moving by again, so fast. The sensation was not unlike ice skating; fluid and fast and beautiful but utterly precarious if you were unaccustomed to it.

O-ren was in the window. How strange, a name which had been only an abstract sound hours ago turned into that same abstract music which all names of loved ones possessed.

She was holding a four year old Lucky on her lap in the kitchen.

“Molly, my advice remains the same. Talk to her.”

And then O-ren was gone.

Lucky and Bowen were standing on the shore outside, their backs to the window. They were both taller, older. The horizon was different. An enormous range of red mountains jutted into a night sky behind the lighthouse.

At first Molly thought it was firework - a dazzling seam of light raced up into the sky and burst. But it wasn't an explosion.

The sky was folding up. A white terror gripped her and her reach shot outward, grasping for Bowen, for Molly, for Liss, for everyone she loved. They were there, but there was a moment, a brutal crack that dropped off into an utter void...right after her children turned 32.

Molly, knew.

A gloomy room filled the window and the familiar presence of a wayward Shadow, sitting in the midst of a collection of complex electrical parts. Molly was sitting opposite her. When she spoke, the words came out of the projection in front of her and her own mouth;

“It’s kind of deceptively simple...”

Then there was just the lighthouse, the shore.

Molly turned to Liss, still holding onto their children. Her face was a picture of dread, but conviction.

“Liss, where is Cyanne?”

Floss let out a dry laugh as she looked at her phone, then across at Amy.

“I have to admit, the plague of our emails has a point - this woman ran from you. In a public place, where engagement would have been relatively secure. That suggests something more personal than a mission.”

She tucked the phone back in her pocket and rolled her eyes at Eleanor’s (quite fair) roasting of her wine cellar. Her brow fell a bit in consideration.

“But the consideration of other motives is interesting - Bill is gone, O-ren is no longer affiliated with him, Beatrix neither, from what I know. And the other Vipers are essentially out of the picture, which does leave the question...What does she want?” A shrug. “Well we’re going to find out. We should keep our eyes and ears open. Just in case she has harmful intent.” Floss’ mouth turned into a straight line of consideration. “But I have a hunch it’s not that.”

She shook her head as though shaking the thought clear. “Well if you’re done critiquing my wine choices, I’ve got a patient to go check on.”

A mile and a half of slightly damp English woodland later Mallory sat back on a log and levelled her gaze at the house she could just barely see through the trees. It was no more than two hundred yards away. She reached into her bag and pulled out a monocular, aiming it at the one window she could see.

No movement. And a parabolic mic would be useless against the walls of the house. She sighed, kicking mud off her shoes.

She’d come this far. There was only one thing for it. She’d have to wait till dark, then find someone to talk to. It was going to be a long, cold, tense evening.

#annalis-e--shadowofpanem #Unarmed

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eightwentyfive · 2 years

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Dreams do (not) come true: A struggling Iska's college life in a nutshell

Going to college is something I have long anticipated throughout my life as a student, mainly because of the idea of living the university experience, traveling back and forth from campus to your home, and meeting new people over four years of study.

Additionally, entering a state university has always been a dream of mine. Aside from the fact that my family lacks the financial means to send me to private schools, I have aspired to become an Iskolar ng Bayan because state universities are known for providing quality education despite being tuition-free. I only took three college admission examinations, and luckily, I passed the PUP College Entrance Test.

I was about to experience the collegiate life I had always dreamed of.

However, the COVID-19 pandemic occurred.

That one-week suspension of classes during senior high school grew into weeks, turned to months, then years. The Class of 2020 could not even march for graduation. Nobody expected that that suspension would put us into a situation where everything had to be held virtually.

Due to the pandemic, being in this online environment for the past two years was undoubtedly challenging. I cannot claim that I coped well over those years because I feel like I'm still adjusting to everything now. As an extrovert before the pandemic, I had difficulty making friends and interacting with my classmates in this online class setting. Even I have trouble believing it. Before, I was very good at communicating with others, but now, I have lost those abilities. I struggled tremendously during the first few months of my online course, but fortunately, I eventually got to blend with the environment.

I also had a hard time catching up with my course. Don't get me wrong; I genuinely wanted to take this course, and I even had to persuade my parents to let me because it did not align with the strand I had chosen in senior high school. Even before I entered college, I knew that starting from the beginning again would not be easy, but it was much harder than I had anticipated. In addition to the fact that I still haven't gotten used to this virtual setup, I also had trouble focusing during each class, making it hard for me to keep up with the lessons. Occasionally, I continue to question my decision to pursue this. My course and I have a love-hate relationship, so that's how it is.

Online classes are far more draining now than in the past due to the pandemic. It may not be physically, but mentally and emotionally, it undeniably is. The COVID-19 risk prevents us from going outside to breathe, so we are forced to endure the exhausting experience inside the four walls of our rooms. It was already extremely tough for me; imagine how much harder it must be for those who cannot even call their own house their "home."

Now that PUP is set to return to physical classes next school year, we have to adjust again, but this time, from online to face-to-face learning, after two years. I only have the third and fourth years to enjoy the campus student life, and I'm looking forward to learning more about what this course still has to offer for those remaining years.

I only hope that things will continue to get better at this point.

#college #college life #iskolarngbayan #student

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gatheringbones · 3 years

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["At the end of August in 1981, I found myself in a small town in Arkansas, where I knew no Lesbians other than my new lover, Lynn. I wanted it that way. We were living in hiding from my armed and vengeful ex-lover who had abused me for four years and had threatened both of us with deadly harm. This was five years before the publication of Kerry Lobel's ground-breaking book, Naming the Violence: Speaking Out About Lesbian Battering. I knew I had been battered, but I did not understand how deeply I had been injured.

I only knew that I seemed to have saved my life at the cost of my sanity. I jumped at loud and not-so-loud noises. A frown from a stranger could reduce me to tears. I was afraid to bathe if I was alone in the apartment. I relived every word of every fight in relentless flashbacks. I had blocked much of the unbearable pain of the previous four years out of my consciousness at the time, in order to cope with immediate danger. Now that I was "safe" it all came flooding back. To escape, I watched TV compulsively, avoiding anything violent—nature shows were my favorites—and I read science fiction. Having lost faith in women as well as men, I was a serious candidate for a species-change operation.

Luckily, at some point in that bleak winter, I read a magazine article on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in Vietnam Vets, and I recognized all my symptoms. I had a name for my suffering, and 1 knew I was not "crazy." I'd felt so much guilt and anger towards myself for not being okay, that is, my old self, since I was "free." Now I knew healing would take time and effort, and I gave myself permission to not be normal right away. Also, seeing how much my condition resembled that of war survivors helped break down some of my denial about the hell I'd been through.

Still, I had no guidance on how to recover from PTSD. I followed only the dimmest instincts. First, I began to read accounts by survivors of any serious trauma. These people became my invisible support group. I found myself drawn especially to stories of political prisoners and concentration camp survivors. Although my experience was not like theirs, these were the people I felt would understand how my will had been sapped and my strengths twisted, how the smallest acts of resistance and mere endurance had needed all my wits and courage. Bruno Bettleheim in his chapters called "Behavior in Extreme Situations" (The Informed Heart) finally answered the question I'd put to myself every 44 hour since my escape: "How could I have been so stupid?" He made me realize that under abuse, especially the combination of intermittent threats, unpredictable violence and constant psychological torture, everyone responds differently, but everyone changes fundamentally, and everyone has their breaking point.

One day as I sat reading at the kitchen table, I looked out the window at the small yard beside our duplex apartment, and I began to imagine growing a garden there in the spring. It seemed like a highly improbable idea: the area was very small, steep, bare of everything but gray shale and orange clay, and the house shaded it part of the day. But the notion of a garden took root strongly. For the first time in several years I had something pleasant to anticipate.

I wrangled my landlady's permission to put in a garden. Then I mailed off postcards for seed catalogs. I persuaded an acquaintance who owned a truck to bring me a load of cedar slabs discarded by a local sawmill, and I used these to construct two frames, about four feet by six feet, and two even smaller ones, just three feet by four feet. By this time Lynn and I had saved enough money to buy a very old VW bug, so we drove to a nearby creekbank and filled bushel baskets with rich bottom dirt, which we dumped into the frames to make raised beds about four inches deep.

To supplement the tiny growing space, Lynn scavenged large cans from the cafeteria of the hospital where she worked. I painted them a hopeful green, filled them with soil and placed them along the sidewalk below our porch. Old-timey "Corn-row Beans," originally bred to tolerate the shade of cornfields, grew up strings tied to the roof and bore prolifically.

I didn't have much money from my SSI income to spend on garden gadgets, so I made do. I wove a trellis for my peas from six-pack rings liberated from a liquor store trash bin. (I can testify that this plastic never biodegrades—the pea fence survives to this day.) I got some more bushel baskets from the local grocery, painted them with non-toxic preservative and lined them with garbage bags after snipping a few drainage holes in the bottom. Placed around a small stone patio above the garden, these became containers for large plants.

The garden rewarded me before the first mouthful of early spinach was harvested. It moved me out of the gloomy apartment and into the sunshine, watering can in hand. It motivated me to interact with people and to occasionally risk asking for help. I found out they would usually say yes. My attention was now focused on the future, not the bitter, unchangeable past. At night when the flashbacks threatened to roll, when I dreaded the dreams I might have, I put myself to sleep with 45 detailed plans of my next crop rotation. I found out I could learn a major new skill, a little at a time. I could do things right, even come up with ingenious solutions to seemingly impossible difficulties. And when I did things wrong, plants were most often forgiving. The plants themselves were a tremendous source of inspiration. Talk about survivors! They defied every book written about their needs, often thriving with too little sun, too little water, and too little soil. At the end of a year, I could easily stick my shovel in the dirt up to the hilt, where only four inches of top soil had previously existed; compost and the action of the roots had created friable loam out of shale and clay.

When I experienced failure with gardening, it was never the kind of disaster I'd grown to associate with mistakes. We didn't go hungry, because other crops outstripped our expectations. My lover didn't beat or berate me, but sympathized and helped. The garden was important to us economically, because we'd both lost almost everything we owned in our escape. Luckily, in southern Arkansas, it's possible to garden yearround. The garden gave me precious, desperately needed tastes of success. Disabled, unemployed, I still felt like an important contributor to the household. I even had food to give away sometimes, and that was a delicious feeling.

Gardening was not the only factor in my recovery, but it was an important one. I didn't grow up with abuse, but battering and similar traumas can expand minutes into hours, years into decades, until four years feel like most of a lifetime. At the end of a year and a half of gardening, I no longer felt as if I'd spent the majority of my life in a battering situation. Healing had acquired a new definition for me: I didn't insist on having the old me back; I'd mourned her long and well. I accepted the fact that some injuries are too severe to be made whole, that I might never be the same again. But I began to actually like and trust the me I am now, scars and all. As my garden taught me, I must make do with what I am. I have discovered that my flaws are not fatal and my successes are greater than I'd hoped for. So far I have not gone hungry, and I even have something to offer."]

Amy Edgington, Gaining Ground, from Garden Variety Dykes: Lesbian Traditions In Gardening, Herbooks, 1994

#amy edgington #lesbian literature #terra preta #cw abuse #you are a goddamn tree stump with leaves sprouting out

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fruggo · 3 years

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I’m not gonna lie this would be the first time I requested something so if I do something wrong I’m really sorry,

Can I request Quentin, Leon, Steve, and Frank meeting a female reader who, before the entity took her, had already faced off her own killer?

And this made her kinda tough? Like she knows what she’s doing

oh my gosh thank you so much!! this is my first ever request to fulfill so we’re in this together :DD seriously i really appreciate you!

i decided to do a headcanon kind of format for this, i hope that’s okay! also these are my absolute favorite boys aaahhh this is so fun for a first request

the boys x tough f!reader (part 1) (part 2)

warnings: swearing, reader kicks frank in the shins

word count: ~700-1k each (sorry if it’s too long…i kind of got really excited and uhhh maybe i got carried away,, yeah. sorry)

(also i'll be honest quentin's is not my best. that was the one that got eaten by the tumblr abyss and i had to write all over again, and it just didn't come out the same way that i wanted it to at first :( i did the other boys hoping i'd get some inspiration to fix it afterwards, but i got kind of stuck. so it's not my favorite, but i hope you like it okay! i want to write better stuff for quentin in the future, he is my favorite sleepy boy <3)

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

when you arrived in the realm, everyone thought you would be the same as the others—frightened, confused, and overwhelmed. but you took this nightmarish challenge in stride, adapting to your surroundings quickly and learning far faster than anybody else had.

your past experiences had made you independent and sometimes distrustful, so once you had the gist of things, you didn’t need (or want) anybody to tell you what to do. and nobody was inclined to, either—your instincts naturally told you what to do and when.

the first time you met quentin was a little awkward, i wont lie. you were wary of speaking to the other survivors; you weren’t going to let yourself get hurt again.

it was the beginning of a trial. the nurse’s fatigued shrills could be heard all the way from the edge of the wrecker’s yard, but you immediately started work on a generator, unafraid. a few minutes passed, when soft footsteps indicated someone’s approach. it was quentin—he started to work on the wires without hesitation.

you were a little surprised, only because the other survivors usually left you to your own devices. you got the impression that maybe they were intimidated by you, which you didn’t particularly mind. but you wouldn’t particularly mind some company now and then, either.

it was comfortably silent for a while, before quentin spoke up.

“what’s your name?” he asked, gaze still focused on the wires.

hesitating a little, you told him. then you said, “and you’re quentin, right?” you already knew most everybody’s name just from observation.

“that i am,” he replied.

then it was quiet for a while.

very quiet.

well, what were you supposed to say now?

the silence was deafening and very, very uncomfortable to you. normally you were okay with a quiet atmosphere, but it was the kind of silence that buzzed in your ears, chewed at your stomach, filled the area as if it were something solid. man, what were you supposed to say—

it was then that you realized poor quentin had fallen asleep, his face smooshed onto the generator. his cheek was now covered in grease and grime.

it made you smile—only a little. you finished repairing the generator on your own, causing quentin to wake with a start and bang his head on the pole protruding from the machine. he swore like a sailor until he realized where he was, smiling sheepishly.

“sorry, i wanted you to have your nap. you looked really tired,” you said. you also couldn’t stop admiring the dark grease on his face—it was really quite funny. and no, you weren’t going to say anything about it. it could stay there a little longer.

you spent the rest of the trial running the nurse around the whole wrecker’s yard, only suffering one injury until the end. quentin had no idea how you had been here for such little time and already knew how to outplay the nurse, one of the most difficult killers to survive against. he still didn’t know how to do it well himself, so he was thankful for you.

however, once the exit gates were opened, you found yourself in a bad spot. the nurse had caught you in an empty clearing with nowhere to hide or predict her moves, and she downed you instantly. quentin cringed hearing your agonized scream as you were hooked.

there was no way you were dying on his watch. once he was sure the nurse was gone, he gently lifted you from the hook, pulling out his medical kit to begin patching up your shoulder.

despite the pain, you had enough energy to smile at him and say, “thanks, nap boy.”

quentin feigned offense with a wry grin, pulling out some gauze. “is that all i’m going to be to you? nap boy?”

you hummed, pretending to be deep in thought. “maybe you won’t be if you get me out of here.”

“that won’t be a problem," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow.

“show me the gates and then we’ll talk, nap boy.”

from then on, quentin became your go-to source for supplies and general comfort. you weren't scared of this place, but it was nice to know you had somebody who would really be there for you.

he would often fall asleep on your shoulder at the campfire--he really was a nap boy, and you would never let him live that down.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon could not tear his eyes away from you the first time you arrived in the realm. your presence was strong; he could tell you weren’t one to back away from a fight.

most of the survivors had been (rightly) confused and disoriented when they popped into the realm, but you tried to accept it quickly. you didn’t like it, in fact all you wanted was just to go home, but you came to terms with it and jumped into trials headfirst like an insane person.

that was the courageous part about you—maybe you were scared, but you did scary shit anyways. in fact, you did scary shit to spite the fear, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough to overcome it.

and leon couldn’t lie, that was cool as hell.

you had tunnel vision and didn’t pay much notice to the other survivors; you were too focused on learning about this place and getting out of trials. having gone through some real shit, being here hardly came as a surprise to you. if you were going to be here forever, what was the point in mourning? might as well just accept it and try your hardest to survive. maybe someday this sick game would end, but for now, you were prepared to fight for your life and that’s all you could really focus on.

your first trial was not the best. even though you were resourceful, you didn’t know what the objective was yet, so you weren’t sure where to start other than analyzing your surroundings. luckily for you, leon kennedy was one of your teammates.

after being downed immediately by bubba’s chainsaw and tossed onto a hook, you were amazingly resilient to the pain. leon was the one to lift you from the hook, and he took out his medkit to help patch your wound, but you flinched away from him before he could touch you.

he was puzzled. “what’s wrong?” he asked. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but he wanted to help you.

you hesitated and looked him over before mumbling, “i’m fine.” and you tried to stand on your own, beginning to limp away. you didn’t want or need anyone’s help.

leon sighed, following after you. “let me help, that must hurt a lot.”

“i told you, cop, i’m fine. i don’t want your help, okay?”

leon opened his mouth to insist, but decided against it. if you didn’t want his help, then he shouldn’t butt in. that wouldn’t keep him from watching over you, though.

but then leon called after you (perhaps a little smugly), “do you even know what you’re supposed to do?”

begrudgingly, you stopped walking. no, you didn’t know what to do. “i’ll figure it out,” you said over your shoulder. and you would; you had been through enough to survive any situation thrown at you.

but maybe one pointer couldn’t hurt.

“do a generator,” he told you, giving you a cheeky grin when you turned around to look at him. he was lucky he was cute.

the first part of the trial had been rough, but after that first hook you were doing a lot better. you managed to find your own medkit from a chest, and you learned how to fix a few generators. you found it came pretty naturally, and were satisfied that you hadn’t needed anyone’s help (except leon’s. but you didn’t have to admit that yet). when the killer came near, you skillfully avoided him and stayed hidden as much as you could.

you were also pretending that you didn't notice leon hovering near you. he was not very good at being subtle; he was obviously trying to make sure you didn't get hurt. it was cute. you didn't want to ruin his fun, so you didn't say anything about it.

it wasn’t long before the gates were powered and in the process of being opened. you saw a red glowing light in the distance, and assumed that must be your destination. you put all of your remaining energy into sprinting to the exit, adrenaline pumping through your body.

but then there was a heartbeat. a heartbeat so loud it filled your head, splitting your concentration. it wasn’t your own heartbeat--it was the killer’s.

the sound of the cannibal’s chainsaw roared in your ears and pain tore through your body; you collapsed to the ground with a cry of agony. shit, that really hurt, and you weren't sure you could ever get used to it. eternity sure seemed a lot longer than you had first anticipated. would you really be here forever? doing this over and over?

biting your lip until it bled, you tried to crawl towards the gate, dragging the lower half of your body with much difficulty. it was no use, though--you hardly got anywhere, and you could already feel the killer picking you up. just like that, you were going to die? you had been so close..

but as you were being placed on bubba’s shoulder, you saw a flash of a police uniform and a blinding light, and before you knew it, you had been dropped to the ground, the exit gate looking awfully lovely and much more desirable than a meat hook. you gathered all of your strength and began limping forward, when suddenly you felt an arm firmly wrap around your waist and your own was placed around someone else’s shoulder.

leon. when you looked up at him, all he did was give you a calm smile, which you felt inclined to return. with him supporting you, the two of you made it safely to the exit and began the long traipse back to the campfire, where you would find yourself spending a lot of time together.

from then on, you always remained quite unfazed by the events of the entity’s realm—the only thing that ever made you feel weak was being around leon. he was just so cute :]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

you had never met someone so persistent in your life. from the moment the entity stole you here, steve harrington was after you, and there was next to nothing you could do about it. he sure was living up to his self-proclaimed role of babysitter.

you told him you were fine, that you didn’t need him following you around, but the asshole did it anyways.

“how cool do you think you are?” you asked him at some point, to which he simply shrugged with that stupid grin on his lips.

“i can take care of myself.” “i really don’t need you to baby me, steve.” “steve, if you don’t leave me alone i’m going to break your kneecaps.” these were all things that had come from your mouth multiple times recently. you were seriously thinking about that last one now.

you knew you could make it on your own, and you only wished he would give you a chance to prove that to him so he would leave you alone. but it was like he had attached himself to your hip, and for some reason the entity seemed to really enjoy putting you in trials with him. great.

he was a dumbass and a sweetheart, and you weren’t sure which one of those took higher priority. you knew he only meant well, but god, you wanted to be independent for once. why did he think he had to protect you so much? you arrived here after running for your fucking life, fighting off your long-time pursuer, and living in awful, ever-changing conditions. you had seen your closest friends die, right before your eyes. you didn’t need to be sheltered or coddled, but you couldn’t seem to make steve understand that, no matter how much you fought with him.

steve would literally throw himself in front of the killer for you. he clicked his flashlight in the killer’s face if they were after you, and he would swear and cuss until they chased him out of pure annoyance. it got him killed countless times, and you didn’t know whether to call him stupid or selfless. probably both.

eventually you decided to just copy him and see how it worked out. you weren’t scared, you had no reason to be. you wanted to show him you could be just as flashy as him.

as you arrived into a trial, steve right across from you (of course), you smiled to yourself. you had brought your best flashlight, and you were prepared to use it. the two of you began to work on a generator together, making light conversation as usual.

“if the killer comes here, hide. i’ll take him away.” “fuck you, steve harrington.” “sure, if you really want to.” “why don’t you ever leave me alone?” “it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” “i could punch you right now.” “but you won’t. i’m too good to look at.”

you know, the usual friendly stuff.

you purposefully connected the wrong wires, making the generator spark and sputter. “oops. oh no, the killer must be on their way,” you dead-panned. steve gave you an unamused look.

and indeed, only a few moments later, you heard the sound of the hillbilly and his chainsaw roaring in your direction. the two of you split up, and the killer’s weapon collided with the generator, making an awful screeching sound.

and that was when the chaos started.

steve began hollering and flicking his flashlight into the sky as usual, and after a moment’s hesitation, you did the same. steve looked at you in astonishment, pausing, but then he started again, even louder. you tried to outdo him.

“HEY BILLY! FUCK YOU!” you screamed, ignoring steve’s attempts to get you to stop. “COME AFTER ME, SHITHEAD!”

steve started actually yelling, just yelling, while you continued to swear meaninglessly. the poor hillbilly looked confused and overwhelmed, and eventually he couldn’t take the noise anymore--he just left, opting to find the other survivors while the two of you sorted out whatever it is you obviously had against each other.

it was dead silent now that the killer was gone, and you and steve were both out of breath. but as soon as you made eye contact, laughter bubbled up from your chest, causing you to collapse against the tree and slide to the ground. your voice was hoarse from all the screaming.

and then he was laughing too, stumbling over to plop down next to you, and your giggling started up a whole new round.

after the laughter died down, you stared at your hands, ignoring steve’s gaze on the side of your face until you couldn’t anymore.

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. he was smiling all stupid again. “what?” you insisted, fighting off a grin of your own. you hated when he looked at you like that, because it made you want to smile back at him.

“nothing,” he said coyly, laughing again. you punched his shoulder playfully.

“c’mon harrington, when have you ever held your tongue before? spit it out.”

he nodded, that was true. so he said it. “i just like you, that’s all.”

oh. oh.

realization dawned upon your face. “is that why you always--”

“yes,” he interrupted you. “i thought it was obvious. man, you’re clueless sometimes.”

oh.

huh.

you guessed…maybe…steve harrington wasn’t that annoying. maybe.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

to say you were feisty was an understatement. frank hated your guts at first because you were so good at evading him, which he would never admit. but the thing that made him really mad was that if he ever downed you, you would kick at him and try to trip him over, like actually bruise his shins. it hurt like hell.

this lead to his decision to constantly tunnel you, and he would laugh at you while you were on the hook, too. so you hated his guts just as much as he did yours. it was a mutual guts-hating situation.

your teammates always felt bad for you, but they also thought you were a badass and knew you could handle yourself. you hadn’t told anybody where you’d come from or what had happened to you, but they knew it was something interesting. there was a reason that nothing that happened here really got to you.

sometimes things escalated even further than shin-kicking. there was one time where frank had managed to grab the back of your shirt as you tried to vault a window, and as he pulled you closer to himself, you elbowed him in the neck and squirmed out of his grasp. while he stood stunned and lost for breath, you kicked the back of his locked knee so that he fell to the ground and bonked his forehead on the wall—the classic dead leg.

this was very funny to you.

not to him.

while you ran away, laughing to yourself, frank’s anger built and built. he was tired of letting you make a fool of him, and it was time to be serious about things.

he ignored you for the rest of the trial, forming a plan in his mind. there was something he needed to do after this, so he made sure to kill everybody else to please the entity—he couldn’t get caught up, it would derail his anger train. he also didn’t feel like getting kicked in the balls or some shit, so he let you out without a problem.

frank did some brooding at the ormond lodge before he was ready to go through with his plan. and his shins really, really hurt, so susie helped him ice them before he left.

the masked killer made his way to the survivor camp rather hastily. when he arrived, he saw you pacing around, deep in thought.

so he threw a rock at you.

it was just a pebble, really. maybe it could be considered a rather large pebble, but frank insisted in his mind that it was a pebble.

“ow, what the fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your sore shoulder and looking around to find the culprit. and then your eyes laid on him.

he looked so sultry standing there at the edge of the woods, arms crossed and mask smiling, you could almost laugh at him. he acted so serious, when really, he was just an angry and misbehaving twink.

you put on your best serious face, genuinely trying not to be amused by this, and strode over to the killer.

“what do you want?” you asked confidently, mirroring his body language and crossing your arms.

frank bristled at your approach, as if trying to make himself look bigger. he wished you were scared of him like everyone else, it would really make him feel better.

“i want a truce,” he said.

you almost burst into laughter at that. a truce? what the fuck for?

he said was willing to stop tunneling and camping you if you stopped beating the shit out of him with your sticky little hands. he didn’t say it like that, but you knew that was what he meant. you, a survivor, could beat up frank, a killer, and it upset him and his little ego :(

just to humor him, you agreed. and frank nodded.

“but,” you continued, raising your eyebrows, “you have to give me something else.”

he started to say “no, no way—“ but you interrupted him: “you’re asking me to stop fighting for myself and just give in when you catch me. i think i deserve something other than just not being tunnelled.”

frank glared at you under his mask, thankful that you couldn’t see. “okay. whatever. what do you want?”

“i want to see your face.” you thought this was a good choice, something you could lord over him forever. it was surely only a win for you. his face was something private, and you would be the only survivor to know.

of course you wanted to see his face, frank thought. everyone did; they wanted to find out if he was good-looking. which, according to him, he was. if you ever asked the other members of the legion, susie was the only one to actually respond. she felt obligated to compliment him as she was basically his sister. so she would say frank is handsome in a ruggedy, jess mariano kind of way. you wondered how she knew what gilmore girls was, since that came after her time, but susie would never give away her secret.

so with a sigh, frank agreed to let you see his face. he didn’t really care, all he wanted was to stop having bruises on his shins. it was kind of miserable, and the entity never did anything to help him.

when he said that you couldn’t do it here, and you asked why the fuck not, he said it was because some other survivor might see. you decided he had a fair point, so reluctantly you let him drag you all the way to ormond.

when he took off his mask, your first thought, whether you wanted it to be or not, was “wow! he really does look like jess mariano! but with tattoos! hot!”

you were lost for words. you didn’t really know what you were expecting, but you sure weren’t expecting him to be that attractive.

he could tell your thoughts from the look on your face.

this had been per your request, and you were planning on this being something you could hold over his head, but the situation had turned into something that he could hold over your head.

oh dear. frank morrison now held pretty boy privilege over you.

and soon you would find out that he was going to keep tunnelling you anyways.

listen i've been watching a lot of gilmore girls and i just get jess vibes from frank, except our boy is more of a twinky idk shdjfhsf i love this guy sm

#so many notes!!!! thank u!! :]#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd fanfic #dbd headcanons #frank morrison #frank morrison x reader #quentin smith #quentin smith x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #fruggo writes #dbd #dead by daylight #requests

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dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

Text

Potent

Alpha! Hanta Sero x Fem! Omega! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18 please vacate the premises.

Warnings: A/B/O, smut, knotting, marking, breeding kink (sorta? idk it comes with the A/B/O territory), a hint of pregnancy kink, a bit of blood

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author's Note: Ohhhhkaayyy so this has been sitting in my google doc for AGES. I think I started this in...October of last year? It's been sitting there for months and I've lacked the motivation to finish and post it but then I sent in an anon ask to @reinawritesbnha and, being the absolute queen she is, she became the little push I needed to do it. I DID IT FOR REINA!!

Also, this is some of my earliest writing and I only skimmed and edited a little bit of it so if there's a little bit of weird pacing or a strange cutoff where the writing styles clash it's because I haven't touched this piece in months.

Anywho, enjoy~

It had to happen when you were surrounded by alphas.

Your suppressants flaked out, again, and your scent wafted through the air on the street. Normally It’d be fine for an omega to let their scent float freely around them. But your scent is particularly...potent, even when you weren’t in heat. Not only that, but you weren’t mated yet, your scent glands still bare, and you still didn’t have a pack. To make matters worse, you’re quirkless.

You hadn’t realised what was happening until your path was blocked by an especially large male alpha. You turned around, and there were two more behind you. Fuck. This isn’t good. You took in your surroundings and searched for an exit, but you couldn’t find a way out. There's no way you’d be able to outrun the three very large male alphas.

Probably the worst part is that more alphas are turning their head toward you, taking notice of your lavender honey and rain scent that slowly began turning to a sour swamp. You dared to hope that change would ward off the three cornering you, but they’d already got a whiff of you. Several distressed chirps sounded from your chest, voicing your discomfort, and you glared pointedly at the three alphas as they edged closer to you.

You hate when this happened. Why’d you have to be cursed like this? Your growls only grew, baring your little omega fangs. There’s no way in hell you’d let some stranger scent you, let alone one of these creeps. They wouldn’t take the damn hint and just crept closer to you, calling out to the ‘pretty little omega’ to ‘come have some fun’.

You’re scared now, the involuntary chirps in your chest coming more frequently. None of the other alphas or betas on the street were big enough to face the three, making you a sitting duck and a ragdoll if they wanted you to be. Your claws are small, nowhere near ideal for this situation, but you’d use them if you needed to. With a final low defiant growl you dropped your bag against the wall behind you and readied yourself for a fight.

Suddenly a large body dropped in front of you, his back to you. His scent alone hit you like a freight train, orange zest, mint, tree bark and something earthy. It had your head spinning, nearly sending you into an early heat. He growled, low and powerful, the sound rattling in your chest and making you sink further into the wall behind you. The other three alpha’s scents together were still overpowered by the new alpha before you, and they vanished faster than they appeared.

He turned around and stepped away from you, giving you space to breathe. He kneeled down enough so he was eye level with you, his hands reaching out clearly in an attempt to comfort you, but kept from touching you.

“Are you okay?” The question barely registered, still delirious from his scent, and you’re having a hard time recovering. Large hands grip your shoulders and shake you lightly, your mind beginning to clear with the soothing pheromones he’s releasing.

“Omega.” The command snapped you to attention, your gaze fixated on his own dark irises.

“Are you okay, omega?” You blink, swallow down the lump in your throat, take a deep breath.

“Yeah...I’m okay. Thank you, alpha.” But you’re not quite okay. You need to get home. Fast. The alpha seemed to catch on, probably by your scent that still hadn’t returned to normal. He stands and slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and wrapping you in his scent. It’s a comforting gesture.

“Let’s get you home.” With a nod you set off, the man walking next to you with a strong, warm hand on the middle of your back.

“What’s your name?” You introduce yourself, and he does the same. His name is Sero Hanta, and now that you’re calm again, you take in just how handsome he is.

Raven hair is pulled back into a small bun, showing off his undercut and strong, sharp jawline. Onyx eyes shine with kindness and playful mischief, and a beaming grin reveals pearly white teeth. He’s incredibly toned, his muscles calmly rippling under the t-shirt that stretched over his chest. You vaguely noticed the strange shape of his elbows, but disregarded it as his quirk. The omega in you is howling, begging for this alpha, his scent invading your senses. But you suppress it quickly, reminding yourself you’d only just met this man.

As you reach your apartment you exchange phone numbers, and he tells you to keep the jacket and use it when you go out to ward off any unwanted attention. You thank him again for helping you earlier, and he waves to you as he walks down the hall and enters the elevator, the doors closing in front of his handsome smiling face.

Despite meeting him only ten minutes earlier your instincts trust the alpha, and you hold the jacket close to your face, breathing in his scent. It’s wonderful, and your inner omega is in love. You find yourself wondering when you’d see him again.

The next few days are riddled with work and calls to your doctor about the strength of your suppressants. You work from home as a secretary for a small company. It’s a miracle you’d found it, too. Nobody wants an omega, let alone a potent one. It’s an alpha’s world, you guess. When this job opening popped up you were ecstatic, so you took it and have been working from home with decent pay for the last five years.

The calls to your doctor were not going as smoothly as your job, though. You leave a message every four hours until she finally calls you back. She was concerned since the suppressants she’d prescribed are the strongest out there, and if your scent was overpowering them they were either defective or your scent glands were overproducing. It wasn’t an immediate threat to your health, it only meant you’d be drawing more attention than you wanted to. Still, it’s annoying and makes life so much harder than it needs to be.

After she prescribed twice the amount, she said she’d look over your tests from the latest visit before she hung up the phone. You groaned once the call ended. You seriously needed a break from your second gender. Taking the prescribed double dose of suppressants, you got ready to go out to the corner cafe to read and drink coffee. Hopefully the new amount will keep steady. You really don’t want to deal with any more aggressive alphas this week. For good measure you pull on Sero’s jacket, allowing his scent to cover you, then grab your keys, phone, wallet and a book and begin the walk.

When you arrive at the cafe you order a hot mocha, curl into the small corner booth and crack open the book. You got lost in the ink and your mind floated along the adventure, putting yourself in the shoes of the main character and leading the mission to take down the corrupt queen who’d framed you for killing the prince of a neighboring kingdom. You were ripped from the fantasy world when a bright, enthusiastic blonde came up and tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump. His smile was as bright as his hair.

“Sorry to scare you cutie, but I couldn’t help but notice that jacket of yours smells an awful lot like my friend Sero!” You smile softly at the blonde.

“Well if we’re talking about the same Sero Hanta, then your nose would be correct. This is his jacket.” His eyes widen as he nods.

“Oh my gosh you must be the omega he keeps talk-” The blonde’s words became muffled by a large hand. A hand that belonged to the very man you were talking about. Sero smiles apologetically down at you as he shoves the blonde back to where you assume they’re sitting.

“Sorry about Kami, he’s… extroverted.” You smile back at him, mostly because you’re happy to see him again.

“It’s no problem at all. He recognized your scent on me.” He looked down and only then realized you’re wearing his jacket, and he beams at you. Then he takes a glance at the booth you’re sitting all alone at, his smile falling just a bit.

“Do you wanna come sit with us?” You take a moment to think about the offer, then agree with a nod. Your omega couldn’t pass up more time with him.

As you approach the booth you notice there are more people with Sero than you anticipated. There were four other people sitting there. Sero introduced all of them from left to right. Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, and the happy blonde from earlier is Kaminari Denki. You introduce yourself and when Sero slid into the booth, you followed after him.

These five are a tight pack, and you learn they all met in high school. Bakugo’s brash personality made you wary at first, but it didn’t take long to realize he’s just like that with everyone. He makes a bit of a snippy remark, which you easily counter, and he smirks while the rest smile or snicker. It would seem they like you.

You can’t tell what their second genders are, and you mentally kick yourself for even wondering in the first place. Their genders are none of your concern, but you can’t blame yourself when you’re constantly alert because of your own stupid second gender. As it turns out, you don’t need to wait very long to find out.

This time you smell your own scent as it permeates the air around you. You swear under your breath at the stupid suppressants that obviously can’t so their job, and the others snap their gazes to you. You sigh.

“Yeah, that scent is me. My suppressants flaked again. Sorry about that.” They all nodded, seemingly understanding. Sero must have told them about the other day. Of course, it would soon repeat. It didn’t take long for an alpha to take notice of your scent. The man -- why is it always the largest males??? -- strides up to the booth with a cocksure grin and leans down to inhale your scent. You duck away from him, into Sero, and let out an albeit small warning growl that was drowned in Sero and Kirishima’s. He ignored them all the same.

“Hey there little omega, you smell real nice. You wanna come hang with me instead? We can have some fun together with my buddies, what do you say?” The others stayed quiet. They’re going to let you defend yourself before they do anything in case they end up escalating the situation. You turn your head and lift your shoulder, hiding your scent gland.

“I’m not interested, thank you. Please leave me alone.” You hoped to whatever deity watched over you that the man would leave. Before anyone could react the alpha grabbed your wrist in a vice grip, yanking you roughly from your seat. You chirp, your scent turning sour and the entire pack abruptly stands, baring their fangs at the man. It barely registered in your head that Kirishima and Bakugo are alphas, Mina is a beta, and Kaminari is an omega, their fangs giving them away.

The man tightens his grip on your wrist and you cry out, your bones creaking under the pressure. With no other options you did the one thing that would get him to let go, and sank your fangs into his wrist. You jump back into Sero, who wraps an arm around you protectively.

“You bit me, you bitch!” He raises an arm, clearly about to try and hit you, but a large hand grabs his wrist. Surprisingly enough it’s Bakugo, and his growl is laced into his words.

“Leave now, or you lose a hand.” Sero speaks up from above you.

“You might wanna listen, amigo. That’s Dynamight.” The alpha rips his arm from Bakugo’s hold and looks down at you, and you growl at him as he scoffs and walks away, apparently not ready to fight the #2 pro hero over an omega.

You all sit back down and you pull up the sleeve of the jacket to inspect the already forming bruise on your wrist. Your nose wrinkles with a half-angry half-pained snarl. Tenderly, Sero takes your wrist and lightly squeezes the sides of your forearm, against your bones, and your lack of reaction tells him nothing’s broken. Still, he growls at the offending bruise.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You shake your head and put a hand over his.

“It’s not worth it Sero. He’s probably long gone.” You turn to the rest of the pack.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Kirishima is the first to speak.

“Of course! That dude was a jerk. I just hope he doesn’t go around doing that to other omegas.” Bakugo, surprisingly, spoke next.

“Obviously we’d protect you. You’re a potent omega and quirkless, so you attract unwanted attention without even knowing or wanting to. Besides, if you’re gonna be Sero’s omega there’s no way in hell we’d let some extra handle you like that.” The implications make your face burn, and Kirishima smacks the blonde’s arm with a ‘Don’t just say that kind of thing, Katsuki.’

After an hour or two of talking, and shockingly no other aggressive alphas, they all walk you home to your apartment. Sero wanted to check on your wrist again, so you invited them all in, but they all had something else to do, so you were left alone with Sero. The fact that the one alpha you desperately wanted to be around is alone with you in your apartment is both great and terrible. Thankfully, you have self-control and his own suppressants are working perfectly fine.

He inspected the darkening bruise on your wrist, his large hands gripping your arm tenderly and turning it gently as he prods at the skin. It doesn’t hurt too bad, so you assure him you’ll be perfectly fine. Eventually he leaves with a hug and you sigh once the door is closed, relieved that you were able to keep your omega at bay and your hands to yourself.

A couple days later you get a text from him and the two of you text often, asking how each other’s day went, if anything interesting had happened. You didn’t leave your apartment unless you needed to, since your suppressants clearly weren’t working, so you made sure to cut grocery trips short and keep away from any alphas that seemed a bit aggressive. Sero invited you to hang out with the pack at their house, and you obliged.

They lived in a huge house all together. Most of the rooms were sealed so no scents or sounds could go in or out for ruts and heats, and there were several spare rooms that were empty and waiting for more pack members. It was a fun hangout, filled with video games and good conversation, and even better food which Bakugo cooked. Sero had an arm around you whenever he was close, and you definitely didn’t mind. Your suppressants flaked in the middle, again, and Sero insisted he walk you home. With him walking you home there weren’t any alphas trying to get you this time. You ended up going over to hang out with them a lot when you weren’t working, and eventually Sero began to court you.

Obviously, you accepted, and after a few months of dating and scenting, your overactive scent glands seemed to mellow out, Sero’s scent mixing with it. Your suppressants are lasting much longer now, which is a good sign. Now that you’re Sero’s omega, he often helped you with your heats and you’d help him with his ruts, and he was strong-willed enough that he hadn’t marked or knotted you in the middle of things.

About a year and a half into the relationship you realize you really love him. Sure you had arguments, but everything was settled through calmed discussions over coffee or tea, and you came to understand each other well enough that arguments became few and far between.

You’re happy with Sero, so when your heat came around early and he was there to help, you were going to let him know just how much you loved him.

You texted him once you felt it starting. He was there within half an hour, and you pounced on him once the font door closed, smothering him in hot, wet kisses, eager to feel him inside you. He carries you to the bedroom, and you two are quick in shedding all of your clothes. He lays you on your back with a hand on your throat as he growls into your ear, making a hot shudder roll down your spine.

“Are you ready for me omega?” You whine and nod, your slick already dripping down your folds. You want him so bad it hurts.

“Please alpha, I need your cock.” He growls again, satisfied with your answer, and he presses into you, bottoming out with one firm thrust. You chant his name like a mantra as he set a bruising pace, rutting into you recklessly, wet skin slapping on skin the only other sound beside your whimpers and his growls. His teeth nip at your shoulder, sharp fangs testing your skin and claws digging into the fat of your hips. His cock is so deep, hot swollen tip kissing your cervix with every full-bodied thrust and sending you into a euphoric haze. Your own claws are sinking into his back, leaving little trails of red and blood beading down the lines. It drives him wild every time.

“That’s right, little omega. Mark me up, I’m all yours. Fuck you’re so pretty underneath me like this.” His hands grip behind your knees and press them into your chest, folding you nearly in half as he plows into you further. The angle knocks the breath from your lungs and your eyes roll back. You can feel his knot beginning to swell, feel how his thrusts are getting more controlled and his grip on your thighs tighten from the sheer concentration it’s taking for him not to breed you. You have other plans. Between wheezed breaths you squeak out.

“H-hantaaa~” He slows to a near snail’s pace, grinding his slowly growing cock into your sweet spot, a smirk stretching across his face as you splutter from the sudden change. He’s enjoying making you squirm.

“What is it, sweetness? Tell your alpha what you need.” You pant, chest heaving as much as the position will allow.

“Want your mark, want your knot~ Wanna be bred Hanta! I want your pups!” He stills completely, claws digging into the fat of your thighs with enough force to have drops of blood falling to the sheets beneath you. You’d never said anything like that in the heat of the moment. He can’t have heard you correctly...right?

“Princesa, do you know what you just said?” The seriousness in his tone has you sobering, but even before you knew exactly what you were saying. You nod frantically, wiggling your hips to get him to move again.

“Yes! I know alpha! Please, give me your knot~” His growl makes your bones shake, and with no warning he drops your legs around his waist and leans down so his face is buried in your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna trust you with this baby girl. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” His fangs sink into your scent gland just as he picks up his brutal pace, and the euphoria makes you cum hard, your whole body locking up and mouth falling open in a silent scream. He plows into you as you regain your breath, and you bite down on his own scent gland as hard as you can, tearing into his skin with every intention of leaving a pretty scar for the world to see.

His knot swells more, and he’s pushing it into you with every ounce of power he can generate with that gorgeous body of his. With one final snap of his hips he locks his body to yours and cums hard, ropes of hot seed filling you to the brim. He collapses on top of you and laps at the wound on your neck and you do the same. After a few minutes he leans back and cups your face in his hand, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Are you alright?” You nod, nuzzling into his palm.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna talk to you about it, but my heat came early.” He kisses your forehead gently, brushing the strands of hair from your face.

“It’s okay, pretty thing. I trust you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You giggle and wrap your arms around him.

“Of course I do. I love you, Hanta.”

“I love you too.” You lay there, tangled in each other’s arms until his knot goes down. You whine at the loss when his cock slips out of you, clawing at him to come back because you’re still in heat. His hand gently wraps around your neck, a low chuckle on his lips.

“Relax, we’re far from done.” His already hard erection rubs up and down your glistening folds, barely stimulating your clit, teasing you until tears prick your eyes and you’re beggin him to fuck you again.

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk for days. I’m gonna breed you so well, You’re gonna look so pretty all big and round with my pups.” He groans at the image he’d conjured in his head and you squeal as he slams his hips into you.

You’re in for a wonderfully long night.

#sero hanta #sero hanta mha #sero hanta bnha #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x fem reader #sero hanta smut #hanta sero #hanta sero mha #hanta sero bnha #hanta sero x reader #hanta sero x fem reader #hanta sero smut #omegaverse #tw: a/b/o

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troubatrain · 3 years

Text

want you to want me - m. tkachuk

a/n: i’m awful at intros but this fic is my whole ass child. i started it months ago and i picked it up back and then i just couldn’t stop writing. now we’re at a whopping 10k words and i’m really happy with the way this one came out. i hope you guys like it as much as i loved writing it.

big thanks to @hookingminor @igor-shestyorkin & @tkafuckit for reading this as i wrote it and gassing me up ily all sm

warnings: smut

You were Matthew’s dream girl, and you didn’t have a fucking clue. You were leaning against the cold metal bleachers of your former high school, chatting with whatever teacher probably wanted to hear all about that shiny NWSL contract you signed right out of college with the Chicago Red Stars. It was well deserved, a few national titles in college put you in the position in the first place, and Matthew respected the hell out of you. You wouldn’t know, by the way he never seems like he actually wants to speak to you and the few snide remarks about your sport in general. That started forever ago, when Matthew royally fucked up any chance he had with you later in life because he was a competitive asshole.

It started when you were twelve, and middle school was nothing short of a mess. Matthew was growing into his own, adding a near foot to his height over one summer while his father and coaches doted on the fact that he was getting bigger. Getting bigger meant getting better, and for a few years winning was the most important thing in the world. But, becoming a hormonal preteen came with something else, feelings about the girl who sat three rows behind him in almost all of his classes.

Then third period gym class came around, and Matthew was a competitive monster. The kind of kid who took that way too seriously, and you accidentally became public enemy number one. You were the only person in his class who could even come close to beating him at anything, because you were just as much of an athlete as he was. Soccer had become your craft, and much like Matthew, you declared you’d go pro one day. So, Matthew did what any other insecure twelve year old boy would, he teased you relentlessly. It was awful, but by the time Matthew had gone off to play for the National team you had forgotten about his bullshit.

Apparently, you’d done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Taryn’s best friend. Best friend was probably understatement, the pair were inseparable on and off the field. They trained together, they played on the same teams and that meant way too much time with the rest of the Tkachuk’s. You learned quickly, that the rest of their family was wonderful and Matthew seemed to be too thick headed to fall in line.

You tolerated Matthew, brushing his silly remarks off just like you did when you were younger. The thing was, Matthew didn’t want you to just tolerate him, but he didn’t know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew who’d been standing next to his brother since the start of your sister’s game.

“Hi Brady,” You greet, tapping Brady on the shoulder who pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That annoyed Matthew the most, the way you seemed to love his siblings and despise him. In your defense, nobody was more supportive of your professional career than Brady, who’d made a promise to catch a game the second he could, “Hi Matthew.”

You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. You’d gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didn’t think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because you’d heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didn’t matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldn’t hold a hockey stick so he was just better.

“You’re here!” You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamie’s sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. You’d been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised you’d make it back in time, and your flight landed less than five hours ago but you made it.

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself, watching his own sister push past him to see you. Taryn loved you, because sometimes she just needed a big sister and her brothers were in another country most

of the time. It was the part that killed him the most, seeing you with his family. You fit right in, a fierce athlete with drive that rivaled his own. Brady side-eyed his own brother, watching him instead of the scene unfolding in front of him. He was frustrated with his own brother for not just telling you the truth, that he teased you because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to handle having a crush on you.

But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didn’t.

***

Matt, you don’t have a girlfriend right?

Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sister’s question, but when he realized her best friend had been sitting right next to her in the kitchen, his curiosity got the best of him. So he did, telling his sister he was single and sparing her details of any of the girls he’d gone on dates with the past year. That was his life is Calgary, a constant revolving door so no one would see what was underneath layers of sarcasm and angst. But every summer, he’d come home and wonder when he’d start to build a life for himself, and if he’d ever find that person to do it with. That was when his brain would start to wander, fantasies of a future that always seemed to involve you. He loved to imagine it, the years that you’d both spend supporting the other’s dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought you’d do the same. Then you’d both settle down, the big house with the white picket fence and a shiny ring on your finger Matthew put there himself and years of arguing about what sport your future children would play - he’d even consider letting you have just one.

Unfortunately, none of that could be real until he figured out how to get you to hate him less. Taryn apparently had the same idea, and had been scheming with your sister for months. The two girls were looking at Matthew with devilish grins on their faces, like whatever they came up with would totally work.

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, “It’s sad actually-”

“We think you should date,” Taryn explains, Matthew’s eyes went wide. His sister didn’t know the whole story, or just how far back this stupid fued went. Taryn always loved you, so Matthew just kept his remarks to himself.

“I know you know Y/N doesn’t like me very much,” Matthew explains, “So tell me how that’s going to work.”

“Apologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything she’ll forgive you,” Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times you’d shown her mercy when she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ve got to be sorry,” Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthew’s eyes giving him daggers, “What? You were a dick to her for years, you’ve got to fix that first.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasn’t going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what he’d say to you if he ever got the chance. He was trying to fix his past, because the way he acted towards you was the one thing he regrets.

So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field he’d been to plenty of times. He used to run through the park nearby, catching a glimpse of your practices when you were in high school and Matthew was an afterthought. He hops out of his car, smiling when he could see you running drills alone. You were dribbling the ball, counting to yourself while you were weaving through cones you set up.

“I’ve never been good at those,” Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, “I kick the cones with my skate every single time.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I came to apologize?” Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, “I was just an insecure kid then, and you didn’t deserve what I did just because I was afraid you’d beat in something.”

Matthew left out the part where he felt like he was still that kid all the time. All of those insecurities about himself seemed to be picked up by every reporter in Canada when he was there. You bit your lip, pretending like you were trying to debate whether or not you should forgive Matthew at all. In reality, you would have forgiven him ages ago if he’d just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthew’s constant taunting made you better. He was pleading, baby blue eyes staring at you sadly while he waited for your answer. He looked like he didn’t think he deserved to be forgiven, shoulders slumped while he tried to read your body language. It was something you noticed about Matthew forever ago, he could have everything in the world but when he looked at you he seemed almost sad.

“I mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, “If I win, I don’t have to and if you win all is forgiven.”

“Really? Isn’t that why we were in this situation to begin with?” Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.

“I thought you weren’t that kid anymore,” You remind of his own words, testing him to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, “C’mon Tkachuk let’s see what you got.”

Matthew shook his head, laughing and lining up next to you. You both counted to three, sprinting down the field at full force. Matthew knew his height was the only thing working to his advantage while he tried to keep up with you. You were nearing your finish line, and Matthew didn’t think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didn’t know that. His arms stretched out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his chest. Matthew turned his body around, stepping over the line before you did.

“God, you’re such a fucking cheater Matthew,” You hit his chest, Matthew’s hands still firmly placed on your hips.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, “Just want you to forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,” You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you.

No. Absolutely not. You told yourself while you checked your phone, rolling your eyes at the warning text from Jamie that Matthew was on his way, you couldn’t have anything but indifference to Matthew Tkachuk. It got harder everytime you saw him, the past few years had been nothing short of kind to him, he was growing from a dumb immature boy to a man more and more every summer. You turn around, peeking at Matthew who was sitting down and catching his breath, a winning smile on his face, the same kind he had the very first time he schooled everyone at floor hockey in middle school.

Maybe you could be friends.

***

Matthew liked having you as a friend, mostly because as of right now that was all he was going to get. You definitely didn’t trust him, which was valid considering Matthew had been a dick to you for years, but he was working on it. He had to, that uncontrollable feeling that he cared about you was getting harder to shove back down with every year that passed.

“You’re friends now, you don’t need to stare at her like a creep anymore,” Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldn’t help it, you just had a glow about you, you always did, but somehow in the summer you were golden. Tonight you looked even better, maybe it’s because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.

“He’s in love with you,” Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“He apologized to me,” You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthew’s visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people who’d been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know that they no longer had to worry about one of you blowing up because the other was there, you just wanted everyone to let it go too. Matthew deserved a little forgiveness, you could only imagine the pressure he felt on himself back then, and while he didn’t totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, “Don’t-”

“Oh wonder why, I know it’s because he looooves you,” Steph teases, “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah I mean we’re both older and I’d like to think he’s wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,” You knew this was going to be your excuse for a while. It was better for everyone that you forgave him, Jamie and Taryn spent more time together than you’d spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasn’t untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didn’t mean Matthew’s stupid dimples didn’t persuade you before you could think about anyone else, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, you’d accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that he’d gotten a chance to show it.

“If you’re going to go pro Y/N, you’ve got to start keeping up,” Brady chirps, watching you stumble over your own feet to walk over to him and Matthew. Matthew had seen this once before, a level of drunkenness where you turned into bambi but that was so long ago he never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ll go pro in beating your ass Brady,” You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, “Hi Matthew.”

“Hi,” Matthew’s voice was small, a weird sound considering he was usually the loudest in the room. Brady scoffs, walking away from the two of you before he snaps at how hopelessly in love his brother was. You turn your head in confusion, your mind far too hazy to realize why Brady was so annoyed in the first place, causing Matthew to chuckle, “Want to play? Might be best if we’re on the same team.”

Matthew’s thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, “I mean if it’s for the best.”

Matthew’s arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasn’t helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Steph’s stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a don’t at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about who’s elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.

“Brady you’re cheating,” You call out, Matthew’s head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.

“You heard her Brady, elbows over the table,” Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brother’s expense.

“Oh look at you two, you’re just gonna raise some winners one day aren’t you?” Brady chirps back, both happy to see you getting along and annoyed once he realizes that means he was going to get roasted by both of you now. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, tucking your face into Matthew’s arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.

“We’re winners right now,” Matthew calls out, his last ball landing in the cup and sealing the game for the two of you. Matthew would raise winners with you, it was something he thought about from time to time, but those thoughts were never going to see the light of day, “Alright drunky I think it’s time to get you home.”

“You can stay, I’ll just catch a ride with someone,” You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.

“One, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,” Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, “Two, we’re friends now and I’d like to make sure you don’t die before you see a pro game.”

Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didn’t know was that getting you home would be more difficult than he thought. You started in the direction of your house, but apparently you were a runner and a speedy one at that. Now you were barely two blocks away from Matthew’s parents place and if he could at least get you there he’d be able to call it a night - which wasn’t fucking easy.

“Alright I’ve had enough,” Matthew huffs, jogging to catch up with you and scooping you into his arms. You were hanging over his shoulder, Matthew making his way down the street with the house in his sightline. You could have cared less, laughing your ass off while Matthew walked up the stairs and finally placed you back down on your feet, “Be quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.”

You weren’t quiet, not at all and Matthew was amazed not one of his parents came down to see what all the chaos was about. After Matthew had to walk you up the stairs, running back down for some water and hoping you weren’t a disaster by the time he got back - he found you in his bed. You were curled up right in the middle, an old London Knights shirt on your body, Matthew’s favorite. Matthew grabs his comforter, throwing it over your body. He sighs, leaning against his door frame and smiling to himself at how comfortable you looked, flicking off the light and retreating to the guest room.

Matthew hated the guest room. He hated how hard the mattress was and after a few hours of no sleep and tossing and turning - he gave up. Matthew hoped no one else was up, but not to his surprise his mother was already in the kitchen, and judging by the look on her face, she knew who was upstairs.

“Care to explain?” Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthew’s face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.

“She fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,” Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldn’t push it any further, “I, uh, apologized the other day.”

“Good,” Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didn’t like to push Matthew, her one kid who seemed to be a little rougher around the edges than the others, but that silly feud never sat right with her, “Here, bring her a coffee, I’m sure she needs it.”

Matthew nods, grabbing the mug his mother was holding out and starting to make his way up the stairs. He heard the tell her you made it from his mother and shook his head. He knew what she was thinking, especially with the way Chantal seemed to talk about you. His mother thought you were nothing short of perfect, and Matthew would be a liar if he didn’t think the same thing.

“Did I fall asleep here?” You’d woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthew’s room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.

“Only after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,” Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, “You know you’re fast right?”

“Yeah,” You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, “I’m sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.”

Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and he’d drive you home after. You fell into a comfortable conversation, something Matthew never thought would happen.

And watching you walk up to your steps in his shirt still wasn’t something he thought he’d see, but it was better than he imagined.

***

“Hey it’s Jamie, can’t get to the phone right now…”

You groan, tossing your phone onto your bed and continuing your pace around the room. It was well after midnight, and your sister had been out all night, and past her curfew. Usually you’d cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. That’s what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like you’d done, but Jamie always told you the truth. She’d check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that she’s going to be out late but she’s safe and if she needed anything she knew who to call. You texted sometime around ten, just checking in since it was Saturday and you were sure she had a more riveting social life than yourself. No answer. Then eleven rolled around and you didn’t hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now it’s twelve thirty and you still haven’t heard anything. You cross your arms, looking at your phone as if you could will an answer into existence. You grab it, dialing a number you weren’t even sure would work.

“Hello?” Matthew’s voice appeared on the other side of the line, clear confusion in his voice. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping Matthew would have the answer you wanted to hear so desperately.

“Is my sister at your house?” You ask, biting your lip and throwing on a pair of sweats so you could pick her up and murder her for scaring you like that. You were sure it was innocent, Jamie slept over at Taryn’s all the time, staying up way too late watching movies or when Jamie would hide going to a party from your much stricter parents.

Matthew tells you to give him a minute, and you can hear him walking through the house. By the time you heard a door open and a small fuck under his breath, your stomach dropped, “She was supposed to be home by midnight.”

“Alright, thanks anyways,” You sigh, “Do you know where they might have gone? It’s just, Jamie hasn’t answered me in hours and she usually does even if she’s out past curfew and I’m just-”

“I’ll be at your house in ten,” Matthew says, his keys alright in his hand and his foot halfway out the door. He was more mad than worried, sure his sister was out a party past curfew. Matthew was her biggest brother, and he was far more protective over her than Brady ever could be. He hated when she did this, and Matthew was pissed. You waited on your steps, Matthew car coming into view while you sprung up and practically sprinted into his car.

“You look mad,” You observe, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and that’s why he’s like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldn’t dare get in the middle of that.

“I am mad,” Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes you’d find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes weren’t fooling you.

“Wait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,” You yell, Matthew’s foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, “Hey Henry have you seen my sister?”

“Oh yeah I think she’s still inside,” Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, “I think she’s with Taryn.”

Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthew’s fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes you’d see them. It took three bedrooms and a laundry room until you finally saw Taryn standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, and you pushed past them both to see Jamie with her head in the toilet. She was fine, well she was definitely in deep shit, but it wasn’t the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you call someone,” Matthew yells, trying so damn hard to not completely snap on his baby sister. Taryn yells that her phone had died and then Jamie got sick and she didn’t know what to do. Of course they didn’t. You were probably more sympathetic, and you knew just how pissed off Matthew could get. You get up, pushing Taryn back into the bathroom and telling her to watch your sister.

“Calm down before you talk to her, please,” You plead, grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, “Besides, I sort of need some help right now.”

There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you could’ve been helping him. Your hands were wrapped around his biceps, a finger gently rubbing the skin right under the sleeve of his shirt. Every bit of anger disappeared from his body, a calm feeling replacing it. He knew you were right, and he’d be thankful for it later. Matthew knew he had to do the right thing by you, and he nodded, willing to follow any directions you gave him.

Matthew carried Jamie out of the house, getting both of your sisters in the car and finally heading back to your house. You knew he was still pissed off, a present frown on his face so you just took the chance. Just like he’d done before for you, you grabbed one of his hands from his steering wheel, lacing your fingers together. You caught the smile on his face, your thumb rubbing over his hand while his shoulders seemed to just relax. Once

Matthew finally helped you get Jamie inside, a night of laying on her floor to make sure she was okay ahead of you stood in the doorway with Matthew across from you.

“Thank you, I know we’re working on this friendship thing but you really didn’t have to do that,” You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist and tucking your head into his chest.

“You’d do the same thing for Taryn,” Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Taryn’s replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, “Get some rest okay?”

“Wait,” You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, “Don’t kill your sister, please she’s just a kid-”

“You’re way too easy on them,” Matthew chuckles, shaking his head at you. He knew Taryn was probably scared, and after he calmed a bit he understood where you were coming from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tell her that if she ever pulls that shit again - he was going to rat her out to their parents.

And when Matthew finally got back in the car, he could see his sister’s grin in the backseat, “Don’t say it.”

She held your hand, are you sure you’re not going to malfunction now?

***

Maybe you were spiraling.

You’d been waiting for this moment your entire life, now you had a few more weeks until camp started and you were afraid. You knew you were good enough, you had to be. But what if you weren’t? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadn’t felt since Matthew told you soccer wasn’t a real sport in fourth grace. It’d been eating at you for weeks, deteriorating any confidence you had left in yourself. So you started pushing yourself even harder. The harder you worked the less like you were to fuck it all up. Your muscles were sore, your body was tired and it was just all becoming too much.

And Matthew noticed.

You were pushing yourself too hard, even the time you were supposed to relax with your families before your seasons started was being spent training. He understood it, the term first round exit lived rent free in his head every single time his skate hit the ice over the summer, but that didn’t make it okay. You looked tired, sluggish while you moved because you were running twice a day and training in between. And he was pissed everyone seemed to be fine with it. You should start working harder then Matthew. If it bothers you so much maybe you could join her. It wasn’t that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthew’s eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, he’d finally decided he had enough.

Matthew took the walk to your house, charming the pants off your mother for her to tell him you were upstairs because you just got back in. He knocks twice, hearing a come in from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” You question, rolling one of your ankles that just seemed to be getting more swollen every time you started to practice. Matthew noticed it, your hands freezing one you caught his gaze.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didn’t ask for quite like him, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s rich coming from the kid who’s played with more broken bones than anyone I know,” You remind him of a few mistakes Matthew’s made playing through injuries he really shouldn’t, “I’m not fucking frail.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you weren’t, “It’s about taking a break so you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” You huff, getting up and trying your best to hide the pain in your ankle when you stood on it. You fell forward, Matthew catching you in his arms and putting you back down the edge of your bed.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Matthew asks with soft eyes, he bent down to take your ankle in his hand and inspect it the best he could. It was swelling, probably from the amount of pressure you’d been putting on your body with no breaks.

“What if I never score a goal?” You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthew’s. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes he’s ever seen could feel the same way he felt right before his first NHL game. Matthew sits down next to you, hand on your thigh while you let out a cry, “What if I’m just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.”

“You’ll score eventually,” Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, “Everyone does.”

“You scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,” You remind him, Matthew smiling a bit that you knew that to begin with. It would have been impossible not to know, or pretend like you didn’t keep a few tabs on his career. Matthew Tkachuk was a legend in the making, and whether or not you could feel butterflies in your stomach every time he dropped the gloves was a secret you’d take to the grave.

“I got suspended my first season too,” Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, “I’d put down money you score in your first game.”

“Well good thing you have money to lose,” You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.

“You’ll find your groove, all legends do,” Matthew promises, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You snuggled into his side, a realization that he was becoming a comforting presence in your life with each passing day, “And if you don’t, you can always hide out in Canada with me.”

“Matty!” The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadn’t been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, “That’s not making me feel any better.”

“What if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?” Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, “If I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.”

Matthew didn’t mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. He’d owe you one and he hoped it was because you were there for him until he got there. Matthew saw it the same way every time, you’d tell him to go see his parents first but he’d fly right past them to get to you - the person who accidentally pushed him to be his best. He had plenty of daydreams about you winning too, remembering times you used to brag you’d go to the Olympics one day, and he hoped you were right. He wanted to see you succeed, more than anything, and he thought it would work.

“Legally you have to let me drink out of it,” You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.

“It has to be Bud Light,” Matthew teases while watching you fake a gag. You grab his outstretched hand, letting him pull you up. His hands rested on the side of your face, eyes flickering to your lips for just a second. He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for you to be ready. Wait for you to settle down. Or even just wait until he thought he had a real shot at forever.

Forever with you.

***

Matthew was kind of pissed off.

The press didn’t bother him, none of that mattered and at the end of the day Matthew was able to sleep at night knowing he was a good teammate and a decent person most of the time. This one got him though, some writer criticizing the A on his jersey, and how someone who plays like he does didn’t deserve a letter.

A letter he earned.

You could tell something was off, the way Matthew had been running alongside you was aggressive to say the least. He insisted he came with you, something about forcing you to take breaks. He was being your friend, even though your sisters seemed to disagree. Taryn’s words were replaying in your head, Matt doesn’t even care if I get hurt. That didn’t mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didn’t mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.

“Are you mad at me?” You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.

“No?” Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” You push, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at Matthew. You could tell he was pressed about something, his neck covered in a red flush the same way it used to.

“Some stupid article about my letter, don’t worry about it,” Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.

“Get the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,” You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, “If we’re going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.”

“You really want to hear it?” Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think you’re shitty? No you don’t, because you’re so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.”

You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasn’t true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like you’d seen many times before that. Matthew looked like he did the first time you hit a homerun in gym class, except this time it was because that same pressure never got released. You couldn’t come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didn’t have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Brady’s points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.

“Matty,” You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, “Why is this bothering you so much?”

You were sure this wasn’t the first time someone’s said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.

“I’ve felt like this forever,” Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, “From the moment I started getting bigger, there’s just been this pressure to play a certain way and act a certain way. I was a fucking kid, and while all of my friends got to go wherever they wanted all I ever did was practice. Then I finally get to where I wanted and I’m still getting shit on.”

“Except no one thinks you don’t deserve to be where you are,” You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, “And I know it doesn’t make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.”

Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, “I needed that.”

“I know,” You nod, smiling wide up at him, “And we need to practice more because you’re too slow, soooo catch me if you can!”

You slipped out of his arms, running away with a giggle and a smile. Matthew stopped for a second, his Neanderthal brain checking out your ass while you jogged away and his more logical one trying to process what just happened.

But what mattered most was that whatever you did worked and that meant something to Matthew.

***

Just admit you think he’s hot.

You wanted to kill your sister for making this weekend harder than it had to be. You were doing a good job at just friends with Matthew until Jamie was curled up in your bed while you packed for a lake trip with your friends. She pushed it for hours, rambling on about Matthew is actually your type and Taryn swears he’d be a good boyfriend if someone just understood him. The problem was, you were starting to see her point. Matthew had a glow up a few years ago, like one summer he’d gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because he’d been such an ass to you that you hated how attractive he was. Then things changed, and now looking at him was just frustrating you. You were terrified about the way he made you feel, like everything would be okay with one look of those blue eyes and a smirk. You felt like he had your back, a vast change from how you used to feel and it was just getting hard to hide it anymore.

Especially when Matthew looked like he did right now. He was holding himself up on the dock, shoulders broad and glistening in the moonlight above you. All your friends were inside, moving their party away from the water as the night lingered on. You wanted to run your fingers through his wet curls, the temptation was almost too much.

“I’ll be in Chicago a few times you know,” Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachuk’s had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.

“You want to come see me play?” You ask, leaning back on the palms of your hands. You were surprised by the kind of man Matthew had become, it was a completely different person that he used to be. He cared so much about his loved ones, and you were starting to feel like maybe you had a place there.

“Actually thinking you could come see me play,” Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but he’d caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, “This looks better.”

“Don’t make you admit you were right,” You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, “It’s freezing.”

“C’mere then,” Matthew grabs your waist, pulling your body against his. His hands were splayed across your back, heat radiating off of them. One of your hands was on his shoulder, your other on his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly, his eyes locked on yours, “Middle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.”

“Why’s that?” You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.

“Because he had the biggest crush on you,” Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers again, “But he was too thick headed to do anything about it.”

“What about grown up Matthew?” You ask, biting your lip. Matthew was practically holding you both up in the water, pressed so close together you could hear the hitch in his breath at your question, “Is he too thick headed to do something too?”

You wrapped your legs around Matthew’s waist, pressing your lips to his and tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. He pushed you up against the dock, helping you back up and pulling himself up next to you. You grabbed the back of his neck, latching your lips back on his. His hand was on your back, fingers toying with the back of your bathing suit, “Think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?”

Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didn’t fold when it came to a pretty girl. You had him in the palm of your hand, every part of his brain malfunctioning in response to your words. You bit your lip, wondering if you’d read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, “When are you going to realize I’d do whatever you asked me to?”

The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthew’s hands still toying your bathing suit top, “Just take it off already Matty.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, “So fucking beautiful.”

You back hit the mattress, Matthew’s hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasn’t in Matthew’s vocabulary, but he was taking his time just in case he never got this opportunity again. His fingers hooked under your bathing suit bottoms, sliding the wet fabric down your legs. You looked so beautiful, spread out just for Matthew like he’d dreamed about numerous times. His lips moved down to your breasts, teeth grazing against your skin while his tongue swirled against your nipple. You let out a breathy moan, Matthew’s ego boosting from the sound. You plucked at his curls while his mouth moved down to where you were craving him most, a gentle kiss to your clit, “Matty, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to beg,” Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please,” You whine, pussy dripping from Matthew’s hot breath fanning over it. Matthew chuckles darkly, fingers digging into your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moan, completely unbothered by the blaring music a floor below you. Matthew didn’t seem to be bothered either, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit, living for the way you were whimpering above him, “Matty-”

“Close baby?” Matthew groans, slipping a finger inside of you and curling it. You back arched, his name falling through your lips was enough to answer his question. Your legs shook, pleasure washing over your body from Matthew and all of it just felt so right. Matthew’s lips were latched to your skin until he finally met your eyes again. He smiles softly, nudging his nose with yours while you caught your breath, “So good for me.”

“Should’ve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,” You tease smiling against his lips.

“Not with you, not anymore,” Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didn’t know how else to make it clearer, he wanted you. You kissed him slowly, hands trailing down his abs and stopping where his shorts hit his waist. Matthew kicks off his swim trunks, cock springing free. You grab the back of his neck, pulling your lips to his and rolling over top of him and straddling his waist. It was criminal how good you looked on top of him, “Gonna ride me babe?”

You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthew’s smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, “We don’t have to if my dick’s too big.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your hips, watching the way Matthew’s head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthew’s hands gripped your waist, moving your hips faster. His finger flicked over your clit, causing you to lunge forward on top of him. Matthew flipped you over, wrapping a leg around his waist so he could hit your g-spot. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails leaving scratches Matthew was going to wear pride later. You were seeing stars, noises leaving your throat you’d never even heard yourself make, “Fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Look at me,” Matthew grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours and watching while your eyes roll back with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around him, his own cum spilling into you from the sensation, a loud groan following. Matthew pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried inside of you, “I wasn’t bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.”

“Matthew,” You whisper, running a finger along his back, “The distance…”

You didn’t mention everything, the way that if this was real it meant it would end up ripping you both apart. You were set to live in a different city, Matthew all the way in another country. The way your dreams included a spot on the U.S. National team, and the idea that wanting to be with Matthew would hold you back was terrifying. The way his dreams probably meant staying in Calgary forever, a C on his jersey and a cup over his head. It wasn’t going to be easy, you weren’t ever going to be the doting girlfriend he probably needed. There would be years of travel schedules and games that overlapped, and a part of you thought that maybe Matthew wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d get a year in and he’d find someone who would be there more and finally you’d end it.

“We can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,” Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, “I want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. I’m all in here, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Can I have some time?” You plead, holding onto Matthew’s shoulders because you knew he could leave and tell you to never speak to him again. Matthew sighs, understanding the way you were shitting yourself about starting your own professional career, remembering the way rookie Matthew would have died before he considered settling down that first year, “Please don’t leave me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, “I’ll wait for you.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didn’t sleep a minute that night, running every single scenario that could possibly happen with the two of you. Matthew was sure it would work out, it had to, because if it didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover.

So now all he could was wait.

***

You know this is creepy right?

Matthew stares at Sam, punching his teammate in the arm lightly and telling him to shut up. He had a night off in Chicago, and after four straight hours of staring at your contact in his phone, Matthew finally just bought the tickets. He’d been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasn’t doing so hot, Matthew consuming more soccer games than hockey games at this point. It started with your first game, because how was he supposed to just pretend like it wasn’t happening? You scored too, and it took everything in his power not to call you to tell you that not only was he right, he was insanely proud of you.

And he’d been hearing it from everyone. Your sister thought it was bullshit, Taryn and Jamie almost had Matthew on a flight to Chicago ready to show up like a terrible Lifetime movie. Brady thought it was hilarious the way Matthew was simping like this for one girl. Now, his teammates were on him, wondering why on Earth their friend who historically ran through women faster than he did mouthguards could be this hung up on someone he had a crush on in middle school.

“What number is she?” Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.

“Nineteen,” Matthew smiles, pointing down at you on the field. You looked so happy, warming up with one of your teammates and a bright smile on your face. It seemed like a good fit, your team and your new city, and it made Matthew’s heart grow four sizes.

“Did she choose your number?” Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, “What?”

“It was her number first,” Matthew admits, not wanting to ever confess to another soul that you crossed his mind when he kept that camp number. Sam howled next to him, leaning over his seat and cracking up at his teammate.

You looked out in the crowd about halfway through the game, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things. That tuft of curls was hard to miss, not to mention you knew just how big Matthew was. He was far too into the game to realize you caught him, up in arms about a call against your team that was valid but he’d argue it wasn’t. You asked for space, and it was getting harder to stick to your guns. Especially when he was making it so clear that he wanted this.

And whether or not you went to his game the next night, was a secret you’d take to the grave.

***

You were so close you could have tasted it.

While the final seconds of your season came to a close, all you could do was hold your head in your hands and hope no one caught the tears. A semi-final loss was devastating, but a semi-final loss where there wasn’t anything you could have done differently was even worse. Every athlete had off nights, a point Keith pushed right before you left to start your season, and he was right. Unfortunately, that was this game. Your biggest fear had come true and there was nothing you could do about it now. The game was over and you weren’t moving on.

And Matthew watched it.

Matthew promised you space, and he swore he’d give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldn’t ignore. He could tell you were off, your entire rookie season was almost perfect and watching the way you folded during this game was gut wrenching. Matthew knew better than anyone, losing sucked. So he took the chance, grabbing his phone and shooting you a text he’d been waiting to send.

Doors open in Calgary.

and I’m so fucking proud of you.

It was the very last text you saw before you went to bed that night, tossing and turning for a few hours thinking about that loss. You couldn’t stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didn’t know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthew’s apartment without a second thought. You’d left him on read, calling Brady in the middle of the night and asking for his address, who gave it to you reluctantly with a reminder that if you needed to see him this badly you should rethink the needing time thing.

Matthew let out a groan when he had a bang at his door at three in the morning. Noah definitely was trying to walk into the wrong apartment again, and Matthew was grouchy when he whipped his door open. Except it wasn’t Noah after he’d had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” You admit, whispering something you never thought you’d say to anyone, “I just didn’t do enough-”

Matthew didn’t say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didn’t need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didn’t want that right now, you wanted him, “Baby…”

“Everything hurts,” You whimper, finally just letting it all out. You were bruised and battered from the season, the physical pain alone was enough to upset you, let alone the loss you just took. Matthew carded his fingers through your hair, letting you soak his bare chest with your tears because he wouldn’t have it any other way. You came back to him. You came back to him when things got too tough because you trusted him to bring you some peace, and he was happy about it.

You passed out sometime after that, your tears finally running dry and the exchaustion taking over your body. Matthew woke up early the next day, grateful for the optional morning skate so he could stay with you for just a little bit longer. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains in his room, a calm snowy morning in Calgary so the city was just a bit quieter.

Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his mom’s words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthew’s god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, “It’s cold here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Matthew hums, internally pumping his fist when he felt your lips form a smile against his skin. You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his against and letting out a laugh, “What’s so funny?”

“You framed my jersey?” You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthew’s from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite player,” Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You keep saying that,” Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“I’ll keep saying it long after we both retire,” Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because he’s had plenty of time to practice this one, “I’ll say it when you win a World Cup gold, I’ll say it when we have kids, I’ll say when you play at the Olympics. I’m going to say it over and over again.”

“But…” You trail off, all of those same demons you’d been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, “What I’m not around enough for you?”

Matthew knew what you were thinking about, he’d thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if you’d find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. He’d do his best, he swore he would, but in order for you to be happy, your passion came first. There was always going to be times when he couldn’t be there and it killed him.

“You’re more than enough,” Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, “I want you to seize every opportunity in the world, I just want to be there to tell you that I love you and use the goat emoji on Instagram when you do.”

You let out a laugh, Matthew’s smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, “I think I want to stay a little while.”

“I think you should,” Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, “Besides I’m playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.”

“You’re a cocky asshole.”

“But now I’m your cocky asshole.”

***

One year Later

You had a good reason to be late.

You swore Matthew couldn’t possibly be mad at you for this one. You’d missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that you’d been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasn’t there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasn’t the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because you’d received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. You’d caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.

You’d finally gotten by the doors to the locker room entrance, out of breath from spriting there from your cab. There was Matthew, tapping his phone and staring at the clock on his phone with furrowed eyebrows. He was still in his suit, tie pulled a little looser, a nervous habit you realized he had some time ago, “Matty-”

“Don’t call me that just because you know you’re late,” Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so he’d forget all about the fact that you promised you’d make it on time. He holds his hand out, waiting for the handshake he made up in the car on the way to the first game you went to after he finally locked it down. You laugh, slapping your hand against his and letting him pull you closer for a kiss.

“They want me on the National Team,” You mumble against his lips, the words spilling out of your mouth when you pull away with an excited smile. Matthew stood there stunned, while you shuffled your feet in the little dance you did when you were really happy. He grabs your cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips again and again.

“We’re celebrating after this, holy shit,” Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,” You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.

“Anything I do seems unimportant now!” Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.

And that’s how Matthew thought it should be.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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zachsreaderinserts · 3 years

Text

sleepy boys inc x gn!teen! reader headcannons

trying something new! i like bbs and all, but i wanted to write for other youtubers! lemme know if yall wanna see more content like this lol.

this takes place in a minecraft au!!! also, mentions of bad parenting/abusive parents

wc: 2,319

okay the sleepy boys

chaos incarnated, all of them. you can’t deny it

so, when tommy invites a friend from a local village, at first, everyone else is skeptical. since when has tommy made a friend who didn’t hate him within 20 minutes from all the screaming and insults he spewed?

unlike his friends, phil is more excited than anything. though he isn’t tommy’s dad, he feels like it sometimes, so he really wants to meet this new person who has caught the youngest’s attention

techno is very much not on board. he has a hard time trusting people at first glance and having been friends with tommy for the longest, he knows that tommy readily jumps the gun and attempts to befriend literally anything just because he can

and wilbur? indifferent for the most part. yes, he feels the need to make sure tommy is protected and cared for, but he also recognizes that this situation is out of his hands. the best he can do is hope that their friend isn’t an absolute asshole

so, it’s saturday. all three men are sitting on the couch in phil’s cottage, talking amongst themselves as they wait for tommy to come back. techno makes a joke about murdering them, which leads to phil scolding him about his violent tendencies

“you haven’t even met them yet, techno, what the fuck.”

wilbur is simply adding fuel to the fire, making little remarks here and there and watching the whole thing escalate to phil lecturing the piglin hybrid.

because of this, not one of them had noticed that tommy returned, with his newest friend. they both stopped at the sight of phil in dad mode, tommy considering just turning around and taking his friend as far away as physically possible

too late, since techno’s sixth sense made him whip around and stare at the newcomer. this made phil stop lecturing and wilbur quit giggling long enough for tommy to introduce his friend

after saying their name, the friend lifted their hand shyly, face burning from slight embarrassment. their other hand was latched onto tommy’s, feeling intimidated.

can you blame them? the fucking blood god looks like they wanna skewer them and cook them over a campfire.

tommy took notice of their shyness and cleared his throat, “we were planning on going to the carnival in their village if you three assholes feel like tagging along.”

like there was any way they were gonna let tommy and his friend go out without chaperones.

tommy turned back to his friend, “give me a second, i’m gonna go grab my sword just in case.” and proceeded to run up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom in phil’s house that he claimed.

the millisecond he was out of earshot, techno grabbed his friend by the front of the shirt.

“what are your intentions with tommy?”

the friend blinked once, twice, then bit back a smile. “you’re asking that as if i’m about to date that motherfucker.”

this time, it was wilbur who bit back a grin of his own. who would’ve expected the originally shy kid to have replied like that????

techno’s brain short circuited and his grip on their shirt loosened slightly. did.... did this kid just brush off his question???

“can you put me down? you’re gonna stretch my shirt.”

techno’s brain blinked back into focus and he gripped the kid’s shirt harder, shoving them against the nearest wall. “i asked a question, kid.”

“you know, tommy told me something like this would happen. i’m glad i came prepared.” and then, tommy’s friend sucked in a deep breath. techno leaned back, expecting the worst...

“MWISTER TECHNWOBWADE, PWEASE PUT MWE DOWN BEFWORE I SCWEAM”

oh god, this was far worse than anything he thought of.

he dropped the teen out of disgust more than anything, reeling backwards. if there was one thing that haunted his dreams, it was uwu-speak.

phil started howling of laughter, clutching his stomach and hunching over. originally he was going to stop techno from threatening a literal child but this outcome was so much better than anything he was anticipating

wilbur was no better, already tearing up from how hard he was snickering. he started choking on his own spit at one point, smacking his arm against the couch.

tommy was so fucking confused when he came back down the stairs, seeing the mayhem that was, for once, not caused by him. he glanced at his friend, who had the world’s biggest shiteating grin.

yeah, they were gonna fit in just fine.

and they did! phil took them under his wing (both physically and metaphorically) and allowed them to come visit his home whenever they wished. and whenever they did, phil was the first to ask how they’ve been and what they were up to

to phil’s surprise, the kid was overall calm in their choice of activities. things like playing soccer or drawing or figuring out how to learn instruments in their free time. it seemed like they were desperate to get their hands on anything and everything just to learn

he found it funny, though, when their chaotic side shone through. they easily were on tommy’s level when they got into that headspace and it was so hilarious to him.

his favorite memory of the kid was when they walked into the house and marched right up to where techno was reading idly in the corner. planting their hands on their hips, they spoke.

“if you were to fuck a clone of yourself, would it be masturbation or would you be considered gay?”

phil, who was washing the dishes six feet away from them, just about crumbled into a ball on the floor from how hard he was laughing and sobbing.

of all questions, that was the one that came out.

but he had no idea that the chaos was a coping mechanism. he just thought they were naturally like that in their free time.

he soon found out the truth when they came home with tommy, who was cursing up a fit, visibly angry. his friend was slumped over, as if trying to hide themselves from the world

when phil asked what had happened, tommy exploded.

“their fucking dad took all their money from their savings! said he needed it more than them and when they asked for it back, he called them a fucking disappointment! that fucking bitch--”

phil can count very few times when he felt true anger and he can confirm that when tommy had told him what had gone down, he saw red.

but he knew better than to outwardly show it. judging by how hunched over and defeated the kid was, what they needed was a stable support system

so he walked over and shut tommy up with a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we take the rest of the night to build up that game room you wanted in the basement. i’m sure if we knock it out before techno and wil are supposed to be back, we can all play something like monopoly.”

seeing where phil was headed, tommy nodded and brushed away his anger. he knew that what his friend needed was a serious cheering up. tommy ran towards his guest bedroom, claiming that he was going to find his blocks.

phil crouched in front of the teen, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. “you’re not a disappointment. you’re an amazing person with a chaotic joke machine going 120 kilos over the speed limit in your head and you are talented. your dad doesn’t know shit about what you’re capable of doing.”

oh boy, the kid’s crying. those are tears, full on tears.

that night was one of the best nights of their life, however. they enjoyed the entire three hour long game of monopoly where they watched the light leave everyone’s eyes. it was funny when wilbur lunged across the table when he landed on a railroad, out for phil’s blood.

speaking of wilbur, he enjoyed every minute in the kid’s presence. they often asked creative and random questions and went along with the abstract jokes he made, the two of them laughing heartily the entire time.

when the kid first mentioned wanting to learn how to play the guitar, he practically burst through the wall of the room next door, breathing heavily and exaggeratedly.

“did someone say guitar”

yeah, he’s feral. that’s canon.

they proceeded to spend the entire day in phil’s garden, each of them equipped with a guitar. despite their outwardly smooth brain and stupid demeanor, the teen was a fast learner and could play the most basic chords by the time the sun was setting.

wilbur’s favorite moment was the first night they met, when they went to the carnival. there was the game where you shoot the water and fill up the balloons and the kid was going head to head against techno and tommy.

it was when techno won that the teen turned to techno with murder in their eyes and spoke in a deadpan tone of voice,

“you’re lucky you won this time, you gentrified mayo monkey.”

wilbur’s jaw dropped, as did techno and phil’s. tommy was already in hysterics, smacking his hand against the counter that held the guns.

needless to say, wilbur found his favorite, not-quite sibling in a heartbeat.

techno was the last to come around with the child. can you blame him? every time he tried to threaten them or had beaten them at something, they would respond in a cryptic threat--

“i’m going to pee your pants if you don’t let me win”

or just brushed him off. without a second thought.

“anyways, i was murdering a chicken the other day, and the fucker had the audacity to ribbit at me.”

to say he was confused was an understatement. he was terrified of the fact that a literal child held so much power and disinterest in things like their own life. so for the first few months, he avoided them.

but he had seen past that when it was around midnight on a weekday. tommy was hanging out with tubbo and ranboo in their village miles away from the area. wilbur was out drinking with schlatt, niki, and fundy, and phil was already asleep.

techno wasn’t too far behind, sitting in front of the fireplace and staring out of the window that showed the front yard. it was only then when he saw the flash of a familiar face and looked closer as the teen walked up to the house quietly. their head was down and they carried a small bag with them.

techno opened the front door with a long creak as they reached the porch steps. it was only when they jumped and looked up in surprise that techno had noticed a deep bruise on their left cheek in the moonlight.

despite the fact that he kept away from them, techno was very protective and territorial of tommy, phil, and wilbur. and since they were attached to the teen, he became protective of them as well.

so all the voices in his head went quiet for a second. before exploding into a mixture of screams and threats, all leading back to protecting the child in front of him.

without thinking, he reached forward and cupped their face for a better view of the bruise. at the warm and soft touch, tears slipped down the kid’s cheeks and they sniffed pathetically.

the voices quickly took a 180, all screaming to take care of them. make them feel better. so, techno led the kid inside and let them spend the night in his room, with them falling asleep on the bed and him falling asleep on the rocking chair in his room.

phil did not hesitate to officially declare himself as the teen’s official father, saying that their biological father was a “little bitch”

now somewhat living with the teen, techno found an appreciation for their quieter moments, when they were reading or simply daydreaming. it was cute, in his eyes. but he also grew to enjoy when they were absolutely feral, especially toward tommy.

his favorite moment with them was when they had gifted tommy a music disc for his birthday. it was sweet and sentimental and tommy just about burst into tears when he saw it.

all of the sappiness quickly vanished when tommy put it into a jukebox.

“FUCK THIS PUSSY, BOY, FUCK. FUCK IT RIGHT, BOY--”

tommy had let out the most terrified scream and it practically engrained itself into techno’s brain. it was the first time he ever laughed at something the teen had done and the teen felt proud of themselves.

and finally, tommy. he was already happy to call himself a friend of the teen’s. they were like peas in a pod, working together.

tommy came to them when his insecurity felt heavy and they came to him whenever their dad’s words got to them. they had a nice system of dependency on one another and neither of them would trade it for the world.

tommy’s favorite moment of being friends with them was during their first birthday living in phil’s house. it was a birthday befitting their personality, with brightly color streamers hung and confetti all over the floor. he knew that they enjoyed it severely and once the cake was cut, the kid turned to phil.

“phil, where’s the big tiddy strippers i requested?”

tommy was GONE

he all but choked on his slice of cake and walked away, shaking his head while trying to stifle his giggles. but when he heard phil’s scream of “WHAT”, he just lost it.

all in all, his friend had made a fine part of the sleepy boys. they were a happy face in an otherwise somewhat bleak and dangerous world. and all four men appreciated it.

#sleepy boys x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc #sleepy boys inc #sbi x reader #x reader #reader insert #teen! reader #mcyt x reader #minecraft youtubers #minecraft youtubers x reader #dreamsmp x reader

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sugamamacustard · 3 years

Text

Let me help you

Pairing: Alpha! Toru Oikawa x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Hajime Iwaizumi x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, Hurt/comfort.

Request: Because I like a bit of hurt/comfort, and I love the idea of an omega depression, I'm curious on how alpha third years on Aoba Johsai (so like Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Mattsun) would do in response to their omega being in an omega depression.

Summary: Because of unseen circumstances, you drop, and you drop hard. How does your alpha help you/redeem himself?

Author’s Note: Oikawa’s got really long, so I didn’t include Mattsun or Makki. If you wanna request a part 2 I’ll get on it right away!

Requests: Open!

Toru Oikawa

➵ Truth be told, it was kind of his fault.

➵Right after you both bonded, he immediately seemed to drop any redeeming qualities he had while courting you.

➵He skipped out on dates, stayed later and later at practice, gave the mile to his fangirls.

➵And while you could get over that, the worse thing you realized was when you went to cheer him on at one of his games.

➵His bond mark was covered with a scent gland bandage and when Iwaizumi noticed it (He knew of your bonding), he sent a worried glance your way.

➵He could practically see the heartbreak from his place on the court.

➵What was worse was that you didn’t make a scene.

➵You stood, turned and left. That was it.

➵ Oikawa was busy doing his pre-game whatever to notice, making the situation even worse.

➵Iwaizumi wanted to follow you but the whistle of the ref called him back.

➵ You didn’t want Iwaizumi to follow you anyway.

➵You felt numb. So, so numb.

➵Like anything you previously felt-- any longing, or wishing for your alpha-- reduced to a numb buzz that kept your body moving.

➵You felt like you were on Autopilot.

➵Toru made it fairly obvious that he wanted your bond mark on display, so why weren’t the same standards held to him? It wasn’t against the rules of volleyball-- several alphas had theirs out on proud display with their omega cheering in the stands.

➵Was it you?

➵God, you felt so empty. Like your will to live was dripping away.

➵You felt your omega lay down, whining as they tried to figure out what was wrong. Where did you go wrong?

➵You barely felt the soft fleece of your blankets as you settled into your nest for who knows how long.

___

Toru was lost. You were in the stands during warm-up last game, but was gone by half-time. Okay, fine. Maybe you had to pee. But then you didn’t show up at all after that. While at the time it took a back burner-- because we all know how Oikawa plays-- it was now front and center. His alpha was on edge and snapped on him twice already, sending sharp throbs of pain to his temples. It had been three days since Toru had seen you, his mate, so Toru could tell that was a big reason for his frustration. But Toru didn’t know why you had been gone for three days.

If you were sick, why didn’t you text him? Were you injured? Toru didn’t know. His neck burnt with anticipation at the thought of you in any peril.

Where were you?

Shoving his way past a few fangirls, Toru made his way into the gym, racking his brain for any sort of hint. Vacation maybe and you just forgot to tell him?

“Iwa-chan! I need your-” Toru paused, huffing when Iwaizumi roughly shoved past him. His alpha was on guard immediately, making Toru growl loudly. “What’s you issue, Iwa? Blue-balled or something?”

The laugh that left Iwaizumi made even him, the head alpha, shiver. “My issue? What’s yours?! You absolutely destroyed your relationship last game and ask me for help?! What the hell is wrong with you, Oikawa?!”

Oikawa swallowed. There was no nickname. No sense of friendship in his words. They were straight malice, laced with acidic venom meant to hurt him.

When Oikawa didn’t immediately answer, Iwaizumi continued. “You make them wear their bond mark for all the world to see, but cover yours up? What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?! How in the hell you got someone like them to glance your way for more than a second is beyond me, let alone bond you; but when you do, you fucking destroy them. You’re a failure of an alpha, Toru Oikawa.”

Truth be told, Oikawa thought that him covering up his bond mark would save you from trouble. The less people who knew about him being mated the less people to harass you. But he was your alpha. He was supposed to make sure that didn’t happen anyway. Fuck, Iwa was right. He was a failure. This became evident as more and more things came hurdling back at him. He didn’t even grab his duffel before he was, quite literally, sprinting out of the gym. He didn’t care who he pushed over. He didn’t care who he snapped at. He didn’t care. He only care about one person and one person alone.

___

You whined as hunger continued gnawing at your gut. You wanted to eat, really, but you just didn’t have the energy. You didn’t have the will.

You still felt so numb and didn’t know where to go from here. At this point, it was clear you were in the midst of an Omega Depression, and to be fair-- that scared you. You wanted to spend the evening in your nest, restart and reboot, before talking to your alpha about it the next day. You truly didn’t mean to drop.

But here you were. The aspect of ...starvation scared you. The aspect of no closure for yourself scared you. Death scared you. But you couldn’t fight yourself to fix it. Couldn’t bring yourself to even lift your head or stay awake for more than an hour.

The door to your room slammed open, but you didn’t look up. It was probably your guardian coming in to try and get you to eat again. But you wouldn’t.

Your heart dropped when the smell of burnt plastic invaded your sense.

“No- no, no, no, no no- Please god no-” Oikawa felt his heart shatter at the sight of you. You looked like you had both feet dangling in the grave, hanging on by a loose root you grabbed onto in a last ditch effort.

He continued repeating no while running his hands through his hair, already crying before he even set foot in your room. When he did dare step closer, that was all it took before he was running to you, pulling you in close despite your whines of protest. His grip on you was bruising, but he couldn’t risk letting you slip. Not again.

“Please- please don’t leave me.” He sobbed into your shoulder, your own eyes stinging (Dehydration keeping tears from falling). “I- I can fix this- I can fix us. Fuck- Please Y/N. Please omega, let me help you. Let me make this right!”

Though you didn’t say anything, the grip on his jacket told him all he needed to know. And though it would be a long road to recovery, you and him would conquer it.

➵ Completely contrary to Oikawa, your drop wasn’t anyone’s fault.

➵Maybe the school systems, if there was blame to be put.

➵So much had gone on in such a short period.

➵You and your alpha, along with his team, had been bombarded with practice and paperwork in preparation for the upcoming tournament.

➵But just because volleyball picked, doesn’t mean school drops off.

➵ You had essay after essay due, Unit exams which would soon fall into Final exams.

➵You and Hajime had barely even seen each other all week.

➵You both still sent each other good morning and good night texts, and if you see each other in the hallway you’ll give each other a quick peck.

➵Honestly, it was obvious everyone was on edge.

➵Teachers didn’t care though, they just kept piling on more, and more, and more work.

➵ And volleyball just kept getting closer and closer.

➵You stumbled into the gym with a chirp, trying to sort through the multitude of papers in your arms.

➵Your back was aching and your arms were strained, but you couldn’t drop them. That would be a disaster.

➵ The coach sent you a raised brow, offering a hand to help. You waved him off, sitting on the bench with a grunt.

➵Everyone was already sweaty and panting, practice in full swing.

➵God, everyone looked so tired already.

➵You could feel the waves of exhaustion.

➵ As they were just in deep in your bones as they were in theirs.

___

“Did you finish filling out the registry forms?”

You looked up to the coach, nodding slowly before riffling through your papers and pulling out the ones you were looking for. You handed them to the beta, quickly going back to your notes once more.

You noted the stumbled steps and slowed reflexes, but simply made it a point to emphasize rest with the boys. Maybe a day with no practice would do them more good then practice.

Hajime was doing well, as usual, somehow keeping his head and energy high. You know he hasn’t gotten much rest either, and you felt for your alpha. Honestly, you just wanted one day with just you and your alpha, where you both could sleep the day away and come back good as new.

That just sounded glorious.

“You wouldn’t mind filling out the ref sheets either, would you?” The beta smirked, already handing you the sheets. He knew you had a tough time saying no to people older and/or bigger than you; and had you doing several things that most mangers would never touch.

It was tiring.

You reluctantly took the sheets, already starting on them. The notes you were working on were yanking from under you, the coach reading over them.

He scoffed at your note of possibly skipping a practice. “Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Take a break?! These boys are on the brink of a skillful breakthrough, and you want to stop them?!”

You closed in on yourself at the yells, trying to focus on the ref sheets. He continued yelling and berating you for the notes you made. You could feel the teams stares on you, but you also knew they wanted you to learn to stand up for yourself. They had been giving you a few minutes to try and collect yourself and if nothing happened they would step in.

It only took seconds for you to finally break down, sobbing into your hands as the coach’s yelling reached a breaking point. The team took very time to act then and there.

Oikawa and Kyoutani were snapping and growling, pushing him back and away from you while Hajime slid onto his knees in front of you, pulling you to his chest and kissing your bond mark. He rocked you side to side, purring and letting you cry.

You sobbed and sobbed while the coach tried backtracking, but it was too late. The pack was on defense. One of them was in danger and they were going to make sure they all were safe.

___

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, your in Hajime’s arms, which are wrapped tight around your waist.

Oikawa was on the other side of you, head on Hajime’s thigh, Makki and Mattsun were cuddling together a little to the left of you. Kyoutani was closest to you (He had a soft spot for you, almost like you were another older sister to him). You ran a hand through his hair for a moment before taking a deep breath in and out. The rest of the team was scattered in the puppy pile around you, and the gym was dark.

In fact, everything was dark. There were chairs propped up by the door, just in case you supposed, and there were jackets littered everywhere. Your heart fluttered at the thought.

Hajime’s arms subconsciously tightened around you, luring you back into sleep.

You, your alpha, and your pack.

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amitlee · 3 years

Note

Hi! I saw your request where open. And I’ve been having sever brain rot. What about a Ler! Karlnapity and Lee! Tommy fic? If not that is absolutely ok. Your writing it awesome!

Reassurance

Warnings: Panic attacks, tickling.

Summary: Tommy has a panic attack and Sapnap finds him. He brings him over to his shared house to ensure he’s alright.

Just a fair warning, I didn’t proof read this.

———————————————————————

The weather outside was beautiful. The sky was clear with the occasional cloud, the cool temperature of fall wrapped around Tommy as he sat on the grass. Which would’ve been nice on a normal day, but this was not a normal day. There was nothing special about today itself, just an off day for Tommy.

For him, the sky was mocking him, the sun causing him to need to shield his eyes. The weather was just cold enough to cause chills to run through his system. The leaves crunching beneath every foot step taunted him, telling him the sad story of a boy and a beach.

Tommy felt his throat tighten as tears stung his eyes. The familiar feeling of not being able to catch his breath caught up to him and before he knew it, he was seated on the ground, rocking himself back and forth.

His thoughts swirled into a hideous symphony of untrustful men. Dream, Techno, Wilbur, even his own father. He was betrayed by them all. He had no one to call his family, practically orphaned for his own safety.

He held these people in his thoughts as he sobbed and gasped for air. He knew he should’ve known better than to come out on a day like this. He was always prone to overstimulation and had never learned how to deal with such intense feelings.

His nails dug into the palm of his hand from where he had them in fists. He hit the ground, suddenly overcome with anger, only to hit a pinecone and feel pain shoot through his hand.

He broke down even more, of course that pinecone had to be placed right where he chose to sit. What kind of idiot doesn’t realize what’s around them? How could he have been so foolish as to physically lash out in his anger fueled haze? He screamed, completely overwhelmed. And, that’s when a light appeared at the end of the narrow tunnel.

“Hello?” An unknown voice called out from somewhere in the woods.

Tommy’s head shot up, “H-Hello.” He called back to them. His voice was quieter than he anticipated and rough from the past few minutes.

He heard the crunching of leaves getting closer to him and couldn’t help but feel hopeful that it may be someone who would love him. At least for a little while.

“Oh my god.”

Tommy turned his head to see who’d spoken. The figure of Sapnap stood in the vision. The man looked slightly frightened.

“Sapnap,” Tommy cried as he pushed himself up to his knees. Sapnap met him half way, taking the boy in his arms as his body, once again, was wracked with cries.

Sapnap held Tommy tightly in his arms. If he had it his way, he’d never let go of the broken image in front of him. “Shh, shh. It’s alright, Tommy. It’s all going to be okay.” He tried to calm the boy. He gently rubbed his back, hoping to help ground him.

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy stuttered out, feeling guilty for taking Sapnap’s time.

Sapnap shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Please let me help you.” He tightened his embrace around Tommy as if scared he’d disappear.

Together, they went through calming exercises such as counting and knowing your surroundings. Once Tommy had calmed down, he was absolutely exhausted. Him and Sapnap sat on the forest floor and Tommy laid down to set his head in Sapnap’s lap.

Sapnap carded a hand through Tommy’s hair as he leaned back on a nearby tree. “I’m proud of you, Tommy. That was a hard thing to go through and you got through it.” He said genuinely.

Tommy wiped at his eyes, but weakly smiled nonetheless. “Thank you.” He sniffled, “Everything just got up to me, I guess. It’s so loud and it’s cold, and it’s too bright sometimes, and no one will stay with me.” He rambled on, feeling his breath puck back up.

Sapnap set a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, squeezing it. “I understand, things can pile up. But you have to talk to someone, Tommy, and I’d be glad to be that person.”

A pink hue dusted Tommy’s cheeks at the kind words. “Yeah. That’s good with me, or whatever.” He cleared his throat, looking away from his friend.

Tommy heard Sapnap laugh and felt a hand ruffle his hair.

“Alright.” Sapnap clapped his hands, “We’ve got to get you home, you’re absolutely freezing.”

Sapnap felt his heart tug at the scared look on Tommy’s face. “You can stay with us for a bit, we don’t mind.” He patted Tommy’s shoulder and guided him to stand.

The pair walked to Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity’s shared home. They exchanged small talk about various topics on the short walk. In no time, they’d made the journey.

Tommy was nervous. He didn’t know how Quackity and Karl would feel about him intruding in on their private time like this. He was prepared to be turned away to his own house as Sapnap opened the door.

“I’m home! And we have company!” Sapnap shouted to his fiancés. He gave Tommy a reassuring smile.

Karl was the first to greet them, running down the stairs and into Sapnap’s arms. “Sap! How was the trip?” He broke from their embrace and laid his eyes on Tommy.

“Tommy!” Quackity exclaimed, walking into the room with open arms. He took Tommy into a hug, squeezing him quickly before letting go.

“I didn’t see you there, Tom.” Karl said, also giving the boy a quick hug. “What brings you here?”

Tommy looked to Sapnap, who took the hint and answered for him. “Tommy is going to stay with us for a little. I’d feel better having him here with us, if that’s alright with you two of course.”

Quackity’s eyes lit up, “Of course! Thomas, a man after my own heart! Let me show you around.” He swung an arm around Tommy and proceeded to show him around the house. Luckily, the trio had a guest bedroom that was always ready to be used for times like these. Surprisingly, Tommy wasn’t the first person to come to their house under similar circumstances. All three of the men knew what was up, even if two of them were a little confused.

Karl and Sapnap stood by the door, Sapnap waited until Tommy was well out of earshot to explain to Karl what had happened. Karl was very sympathetic, completely understanding and vowing to cheer the boy up as much as he could.

Quackity was later filled in after dinner on the entire situation. All four had eaten together, Karl and Tommy left the other two to do the washing up. Quackity’s reaction was similar to Karl’s, very understanding. He promised to make Tommy feel as comfortable as possible.

Later that night, the four were watching a movie in the trio’s two king sized mattresses that had been pushed together. The bed had plenty of room for the four of them to fit comfortably. Sapnap was beside Tommy, who was beside Karl, who was beside Quackity. Sapnap had made the joke that it was a Tommy and Karl sandwich as he took his spot.

Tommy had been purposely placed beside Karl because he was the touchiest of the group, and therefore would provide the most comfort to the teen.

The atmosphere was calm as the movie played. Everyone was engrossed, well, almost everyone. Karl had gotten bored and decided to cause some light mischief.

He used his hand that had been around Quackity to move closer to the man’s sides. He stayed still for a moment to avoid suspicion before poking once at the skin.

Quackity flinched, looking at Karl, who had turned his attention back to the TV. Quackity leaned further into his fiancé and did the same.

After a moment, Karl moved so his hand was in the same position on Tommy’s side. He poked the boy’s side just how he’d done with Quackity.

Tommy flinched with a quiet squeak, quickly covering his mouth and looking at Karl. Karl had a fond smile on his face, even as he turned back to the movie. The reaction was undoubtedly adorable.

Karl didn’t wait very long to pinch once at both of their sides. Tommy yelped, curling slightly. Quackity batted at Karl’s hand, a giggle seeping out.

“Kaharl,” Quackity said, “You’re being mean,” He whined.

Karl gasped. “Mean. Mean? This would be being mean.” He skittered his hand across Quackity’s belly, paying close attention to the spots that made him squeal.

“KAHAHaharl! My lohohove, plehehease!”

Karl awed but shook his head. “I’m just demonstrating.”

Tommy was flustered to say the least. Seeing someone get tickled to pieces right beside him was not something he was expecting. He yelped as Karl’s hand started to move to his belly as well.

“Don’t worry, Tommy. I didn’t forget about you.” Karl said, digging gently into the flesh.

Tommy quickly dissolved into giggles. The spot and method being quite pleasant. He melted into the touch, not making much of a move to get away.

Sapnap cooed at Tommy’s obvious compliance. “Look at you! All giggly and sweet.”

Tommy shook his head, “ ‘M nohohot gihihiggly!” He covered his face to try and conceal the light pink that dusted his cheeks.

“I dohohon’t knohow, Toms. Yohohou seem gihihiggly tohoho mehehe.” Quackity teased between his own laughter.

Sapnap scoffed, reaching over the squeeze Quackity’s side, “You’re one to talk.”

Now that Sapnap was leaning over Tommy, his entire torso was left vulnerable to the boy, which Sapnap didn’t take note of until he felt nimble fingers prodding at his ribs. He yelled, almost collapsing, and resigned himself to laughter. Tommy had unknowingly stumbled upon one of his death spots.

“TOHOHOMMEHEHE, NOHOHO-“

Tommy had gained confidence, now wiggling his fingers between the bones.

This came to a halt when he felt a squeeze to his knee. He gasped through his giggles. “NOHOho! Nohohot there!”

Sapnap chuckled. “Why, does it tickle?” He moved himself away from Tommy’s reach and began to quickly squeeze the muscle right above his knee.

Tommy convulsed, the sensations much stronger than the ones on his stomach. He tried to lean up, only to be blocked by Karl’s arm wrapping around him.

“I think you deserve this after the stunt you just pulled, mister.”

“I DOHOHON’T! IHIHI DOHOHON’T!” Tommy’s childlike laughter burst into the room, bouncing and filled with squeals. He brought his knees up to his chest. A squeal tore through his throat when Sapnap squeezed his hips, causing him to curl onto his side. “Plehehease, not my knehehees,” He covered his face after the plea, thoroughly flustered.

Sapnap nodded, removing his hands. “We’ll spare you, this time.” He teased.

Karl had stilled his hands on both Quackity and Tommy once the shriek had flooded the room. Leaving Quackity to recover enough to be able to reach across Karl and scratch lightly at Tommy’s neck, making the younger scrunch up with more giggles.

“I won’t!” Quackity said jokingly, his free hand going to skitter across Tommy’s lower back.

“Quackithehehe!” Whihi- NOHOHOT THEHEHERE Q PLEHEHEAHAHA-'' Tommy was lost to laughter once Quackity had drilled his fingers directly in the middle of his back. The tingles erupting and spreading up his spine.

“Awww, little Tom Tom has a ticklish back? How cute.” Karl teased.

Tommy arched his back, sticking his stomach out to be perfect for Sapnap’s hand to vibrate onto. With the tickling on both sides, his laughter went silent and he tapped Karl’s arm, signaling he was done. Karl signaled for the two to stop and cradled the boy in his arms. Sapnap and Quackity rubbed the ghost tickles off Tommy.

Tommy turned around, giggling into Karl’s chest and wrapping his arms around the man. “Thahahank yohou.”

Karl hugged him tighter, “You’re very welcome, Tommy.”

“You can come to us anytime.” Quackity explained, saying that even if they were busy, they’d all have time for him.

Before Tommy fell asleep, he caught Sapnap’s eye. Mouthing a thank you and getting a wink in return along with a kind smile.

———————————————————————

Sorry I didn’t proof read, I wrote this all today and I’m too tired to do it. But I wanted to get it out and I really enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for the prompt and I hope you enjoyed 💕

#mcyt tickle #mcyt tickle fic #tickle fic #ticklecommunity #lee!tommy #lee!tommyinnit #Ler!sapnap #Ler!karl #Ler!karljacobs #Ler!quackity #Ler!karlnapity #dsmpticklefic #dsmp tickle fic

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