Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My request page because, as I said, a lot of incredibly talented authors have inspired me to create one of my own!

As it says in the title, I'm open to writing frouse/clooless, tgc, fest, and co.! Plsss request fest there's nothing here of them, and I'd love to write them!

Please be descriptive I'm a fairly creative person but that only goes so far lol. Also I'm a slow writer as I have adhd and 2 alts that I also write for, pls be patient with me!

I'm a huge fan of abo, creature aus, apocalypse aus, even better when they're combined! I also like writing platonic fics just as much as I like writing romantic fics :]

Forgot to add this when I made this but there's no limit to how much you can request! 1? 10? More? Go wild!

I won't write:
Nsfw
Pedophilia
Bestiality
Incest
Cheating
Absolutely zero shipping with grunk I'm not writing that
Etc.
Use common sense and be normal pls 🙏
Also I reserve the right to not write a rq if I feel like I can't write it or I feel uncomfortable writing it

Lastly, if I like the idea of a req enough it might possibly end up getting made into its own fic or getting a continuation/multiple chapters!

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Table of contents
Chapter 1: requests & table of contents
Chapter 2: poly tgc (yumi angst)
Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Poly Matt, Smitty, & John (mafia au)

Chapter Text

Yumi sits at his desk, frustration evident in his posture. His face is buried in his arms, his body curled over his desk. Angry tears pool in his eyes despite his attempts to blink them away. This is dumb to cry about, it's just a stupid challenge, but it was the second year in a row that he'd lost to tech issues. First his power goes out and now this? He's so tired.

Yumi can hear Nick nearby talking with Grunk and Larry, he knows they're concerned for him, especially Nick. He can't find it in himself to get up and talk to them about this again, not now. Yumi doesn't think he'll be able to hold back his tears if Nick asks him if he's okay. He just wants to be alone right now.

Yumi takes a moment to collect himself then sits up and logs back into his computer. He's determined to prove that he could last in vc, that his tech issues were the only reason he couldn't win. He hovers his mouse over the vc, taking a deep breath before joining. He can do this.

Hours later, when everyone is exhausted but too wired to sleep just yet, they're all setting up for their nightly movie night. Yumi doesn't know what movie was picked, just that it was Tanners turn this night. He can't focus on the movie, he just can't stop thinking about his computers reset.

Larry and Tanner are asleep already, curled up together and sharing the giant beanbag, and he can't help the fond smile on his face as he watches them. Yumi is distracted from watching his partners by a hand dropping into his hair from behind him and he tilts his head up to shoot an exhausted smile at Isaac when he sees him.

Isaac runs his hand through Yumis hair, concern visible in his eyes, and the sheer love and concern is almost enough to bring back tears. He ducks his head down to hide his face, afraid that he'll break down if he keeps looking at the expression on Isaacs face. And an illogical part of him is afraid that he'll be teased for crying over this, even though Isaac knows how important this win would have been after how last years last to leave vc ended.

Isaac seems to understand that Yumi doesn't want to talk about it, but the hand that continues running through his hair says it all without actually saying anything. He'll be here to listen if Yumi wants to talk about it. He appreciates it, leaning back into the affection from one of his partners.

Yumis eyes turn towards Grunk, who is not so subtly looking over at him when there are calm moments in the still playing movie, and he rolls his eyes before raising an arm and waving Grunk over. Grunks eyes light up and he quietly scrambles over to curl up against Yumi. Yumi hides a fond smile Grunks hair as he pulls him closer.

Yumi meets Nicks eyes when he looks up as Isaac moves around the couch to sit down on Grunks other side, and it's not long before Grunk and Isaac are both fast asleep. Yumi squeezes out from where Grunk is clinging to him, ruffling his hair affectionately before quietly walking over to where Nick is sitting, carefully stepping around Larry and Tanner.

“You doing okay?” Nick whispers when Yumi sits down next to him, concern still evident in his eyes. Yumi thinks for a moment, is he doing okay? He looks around the dark room, only lit up by the television, at his partners. And Grunk, who they collectively view as a younger brother. He's not perfect, but he thinks he's content now.

“I'm doing better now, I think.” Yumi breathed out, leaning back against Nick when he's motioned over, melting against him when Nick starts running his hands through his hair like Isaac had been doing earlier.

“I'm glad, I was worried about you, Yumi” Nick murmurs, pressing a kiss against his head before burying his face in his hair, arms wrapped around Yumi. Yumi smiles, leaning back further against Nick. Nicks always been the one to worry himself half to death.

As he sits on the couch in Nicks arms, he hears his soft snores and he rests his head against Nicks chest. Taking another cursory glance around the room, at Isaac protectively cuddling Grunk in his sleep, at Larry and Tanner so close they're practically trying to fuse together, and finally at Nick who's holding him just as protectively as Isaac is holding Grunk, and he falls asleep with the knowledge that people love and care for him. And that's worth more to him than a silly challenge.

Chapter Text

Blood drips from Smittys now broken nose as his head is thrown back by a punch from the man in front of him. Despite the pain radiating all over his body, he still musters up a scathing glare, spitting blood from his mouth at their feet. A hand grabs his jaw harshly and he grimaces.

“Now, let's try again. Which one of you are the leader of the mafia?” The man growls out as he leans close. “Go to hell.” Smitty smirks, looking the man in the eyes before yanking his head back and slamming it into the other man's head, a nearly maniacal look on his face at the sounds of pain the action caused.

He grins wildly at the ensuing sound of cocking guns, eyes practically daring the man to give the order to shoot. He doesn't give the order, but he certainly looks like he wishes he could. Smitty knows that they can't get the information they need if he and John are dead.

A fist to Smittys jaw sends him reeling, ears ringing as he groans in pain. “We're not getting anywhere with him right now, let's go.” The man grounds out as he motions the armed men to leave the room, stationing two of them outside the closed door to keep watch.

Smitty leans his head back, breathing hard through his mouth. He goes through a mental checklist of what feels injured. Nose is broken, ribs are cracked at the least, his brain feels fuzzy so he probably has a concussion, and he has more bruises on his body than he can count.

He wonders how John is doing, she’s probably not better than him if he had to hazard a guess, she's always been less inclined to listen to orders, it's something that Matt always gets onto him about, hough he supposes he doesn't have much room to talk since Matt gets onto him for having his code name be so close to his real one. John is sassier than Smitty himself is, and that's saying something. He knows she can handle herself but a part of him is worried about her. He hopes that Matt gets here soon.

-

John isn't doing better than Smitty, not even close. Still though, as she leans her head over to wipe blood from her face onto her shirt, she doesn't back down. She won't give these assholes what they want, glaring at them with pure contempt and hatred.

That gets him another hit to the gut, and he clamps his teeth onto his lip, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing him in pain. John feels his lip split open, the pain dull in comparison to the rest of his body. He swallows, the metallic taste of blood nearly choking him.

A hand grabs Johns hair, yanking it back hard, making her hiss in pain. She freezes as cold metal presses against her throat, wincing when the knife digs in just enough to leave a small cut. She glowers at the man, despising the self satisfied expression on his face.

Before the man can do anything other than open his mouth to speak, the room is shaken by an explosion, and a knowing grin spreads on Johns face. The man drops the knife, a panicked look on his face. “What the hell is happening?!” He shouts, eyes darting over to John when he starts laughing.

“You wanted to know who our leader is? He's here.” He grins sadistically at the man, watching with satisfaction as he stumbles away in terror. He and the guards run out of the room, and it's not long before the screaming starts, muffled through the closed door.

The door slams open, a bloodied and bruised Smitty standing at the entrance, and he wobbles slightly as he makes his way to John. He drops down to the ground, uncaring of his injuries, though John doesn't miss the wince at the harsh landing.

“Smitty…” He breathes out, staring in lovestruck wonder as his boyfriend starts cutting the ropes. He wonders how much of the blood on him is his and how much of it is their enemies, the thought is hotter than it should be. Smitty looks up at him at the sound of his name, worry visible in his eyes behind the shattered remains of his iconic dual colored glasses.

“John…” Smitty sounds just as breathless as John is, and they take a moment to breathe together, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. The moment lasts for a bit, before another distant explosion draws their attention. “Sounds like Matt's here.” John says with a grin, blood soaked teeth making him look wild and feral.

“Let's go out and meet him, hm?” Smitty says, holding a hand out for John and lifting her up when she grabs it. The hobble out the door together, leaning against eachother for support. It's not hard to find Matt, he's not exactly hiding his presence. He lights up when he sees them, running over and almost bowling them over in his excitement, but stops himself before he runs into them.

He carefully checks both of them over, face warring between anger at what those bastards did and worry over their injuries. “Matt, we're going to be okay, let's just go home, yeah?” Smitty says when Matt checks over his broken nose, leaning into the hands cupping his face with soft eyes.

Matt frowns, looking between Smitty and John, who nods encouragingly. He sighs, reluctantly letting Smitty go and eying the cut on Johns neck. He grabs their hands, leading them out of the hole blown in the side of the building.

They've seen their fair share of carnage in their time as members of a mafia, but even they had to avert their eyes from the paste that their captors became when Matt got his hands on them. They quickly leave, and when they get in the car and Pezzy starts driving it's like a weight off their chests.

Pezzy looks at them through the rearview mirror with concern, but doesn't say anything as it's clear that the three need their time to rest and take a breather after all that just happened. He'll check up on them after they've recovered and relaxed. He's certainly got a lot to talk about with his boys.

It's not long before the car parks outside of one of their safehouses, and Matt stops to give Pezzy a grateful and exhausted smile, which he returns. “Go, be with your boys, they need you.” Pezzy says, waving him off with a soft laugh. Matt nods, going up the pathway towards where John and Smitty are waiting for him at the door, engaging in their typical bickering if he had to guess.

Matt blinks away tears at the sound of their voices. He hadn't quite been able to shake the fear that when he got to them they would be dead, and he had almost collapsed with relief when he saw them standing together in that building. He inhales and exhales shakily, stepping forward to unlock the door, silencing their argument.

He barely remembers to shut and lock the door, hang the keys up, and kick his shoes off when he gets inside, too distracted by watching John and Smitty laugh together as they take their own shoes off. His eyes stray to their various injuries and he rushes to grab the medkit, grabbing the necessary supplies as his boyfriends sit down on the couch. They'd long since given up on keeping blood off the couch, their job is too mess to care much about that.

He starts with John first at Smittys insistence, carefully cleaning and bandaging cuts and applying bruise cream to her bruises. Her ribs didn't seem to be broken, only bruised, which was a small mercy compared to the sheer amount of bruises and cuts across her body. The cut on her neck hadn't gone too deep, and Matt gently wipes it up, thanking any god that was listening that none of Johns injuries needed stitches.

Matt finishes with Johns injuries, turning to Smitty next. His injuries aren't too bad, they just looked worse at a glance. He blocks the blood flowing from his nose with tissues, leaving Smitty to put pressure on his nose as he checks his other injuries. The bruises are easy to deal with, and he has far fewer cuts than John has, so those are cleaned and wrapped quickly.

His cracked ribs and the concussion are more concerning. He ices his ribs, wrapping gauze around it lightly to hold the icepacks in place. He carefully checks Smittys head for any cuts or bumps, sighing in relief when he finds none. He decides that Smitty is fine enough to sleep, he'd just monitor him in case his concussion gets worse. He gives them both pain medication, and they head to their bedroom to change and sleep.

They change quickly, Matt occasionally stepping in when they need some help or support. They get in bed carefully, and Smitty and John are both put as their heads hit their pillows. Matt though, can't quite sleep yet, his mind too restless.

He keeps going through the what ifs. What if he hadn't gotten there in time? What if they had decided that they didn't need them alive? What if he miscalculated their location and the bombs hit them? What if they had died? His breathing picks up slightly as tears stream down his face.

His attention is grabbed by a sleepy mumble from Smitty. “We're okay Matt, stop thinking so much, okay?” “Mmmhmm we know you're thinking of the what ifs, none of that.” John says, wiping the tears off his face. He feels them both curl close to him and drape an arm over him as they fall back asleep. He smiles softly, kissing them on their heads and closing his eyes to their quiet, content breathing.