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meiliarotten · 11 months

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Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time Two: Electric Boogaloo

Day 7: Mechanical Intervention (Overstimulation)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Engineer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Engie keeps going to bed late in the night and decided to make sure you don’t feel neglected.

Tags: Overstimulation, inappropriate use of the Gunslinger, vibrators

Word Count: 2.7k

The Masterlist

The oversized shirt you wore to bed was far more important to you than most would think. Having once belonged to Dell, you had ‘borrowed’ it from his half of the dresser one night when you happened to forget to do your laundry. Now it was an item of comfort for you. It made you feel like he was here with you, even though the two of you had been apart for so long.

You rolled your eyes, realizing for a moment how melodramatic you were being. It wasn’t like Engie had gone off to war. In fact, he was literally under the same roof as you, just a few rooms away in his workshop. However he had been holed up in there for so many nights now, working tirelessly on his sentries and dispensers, writing calculation after calculation, all of which you had no hope of understanding. To put it frankly, you missed him.

With a sigh, you opened the door of your shared room, glancing down the hall towards the workshop. You could see the light shining from under the crack in the door, indicating that he was still hard at work. You began to walk towards that light, unsure of what your goal was exactly. It wasn’t likely, but maybe you could convince him to turn in early for once. At the very least, it would be nice to pay him a visit.

You opened the door to the workshop slowly, finding Engie sitting in a chair, hunched over some blueprints with a half disassembled sentry at his side. It was a position you had found him in many times before. It was a wonder how his back wasn’t in constant pain. You walked up behind him, not realizing how quiet you had been until you wrapped your arms around Engie’s shoulders, only for him to jump before realizing that it was just you.

“Good lord, darlin,’ don’t sneak up on me like that!” he said, holding a hand to his chest. Engie was always weary about being approached from behind, especially with how often he was the victim of spies on the battlefield. That fact had apparently slipped your mind.

“Sorry,” you sighed, nestling your face against his shoulder. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

“What’s wrong?” Engie asked, noticing the twinge of sadness in your voice. “Aren’t you usually in bed by now?”

You held onto him tighter, biting your lip. Eventually, you decided not to hesitate and simply come out with it. “Come back to bed.” You could tell by the sigh you got in response that you weren’t going to get the answer you were hoping for.

“I’m sorry darlin.’ You know I have to get my work done first.”

You walked around to face Engie, giving the best damn puppy dog eyes you could muster. You weren’t too proud to beg. “Please, Dell?”

His eyes lit up at the use of his real name, softening as he reached out and pulled you close. “Oh honey, I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” he asked. You nodded, letting yourself be pulled into Engie’s lap. “You sweet thing.”

He leaned in to kiss you. You eagerly reciprocated, desperate for the sensation of his lips against yours. It was more than the two of you had shared in at least a week, and you were practically starved for it. You tugged incessantly at his shirt, a silent plea for more. When you parted for breath you pressed your face into his shoulder again, muffling a needy whine.

“Now, I might not be able to come back to bed just yet, but I know the perfect way to make it up to you,” Engie said, pulling at the waistband of your pajama bottoms. You quickly stood and removed them yourself, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and a loose fitting shirt. Before you could take off anything else you were pulled back into Engie’s lap. “You look cute like that, you know?” he said. “In nothing but my shirt and your panties, just lovely.”

You blushed, but gave him a confused look. “Well, the shirt can stay, but doesn’t the underwear kinda have to come off eventually?”

“Not necessarily,” Engie said with a hint of mischievousness in his voice. His gloved hand ran up your thigh, and you let out a soft sigh. His other hand rested on the small of your back, keeping you steady and secure on his lap. Your body was already beginning to heat up as he reached your hip, caressing you gently and making you whimper. Usually such a small gesture wouldn’t get a reaction out of you, but it had been so long.

It felt like an eternity before he finally moved to run his fingers over your clothed slit. “Oh fuck,” you murmured as the fabric slowly began to dampen. You leaned your head on Engie’s shoulder, eyes rolling.

“That’s it, just relax and enjoy yourself,” Engie whispered into your ear, placing soft kisses on your jawline and trailing down to your neck. You moaned softly, unable to resist the urge to roll your hips as his fingers found your clit. How were you already so close? You must have been really pent up. “Are you close already, sweetheart?” Engie asked, seeing how you were squirming in his lap.

“I think so,” you stammered, gripping Engie’s shirt as you tried to hold back. “Fuck, it just feels so good.”

“You poor, sweet thing,” he crooned. “Laying all by your lonesome for so long. I’ll bet you haven’t even touched yourself in the past week.”

He wasn’t wrong. Most of the time you just went to sleep, hoping you would get some attention the next day. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the desire or the means to get yourself off, you just wanted to let your need build. You knew that the more it built the more rewarding it would be when Engie finally made time for you, and in a way, you were now getting exactly what you had been craving.

“How about you just go on and come for me?” he said, smirking as he circled your clit with his fingers. “I know you want to, and I wanna see it. I don’t want you to hold back.”

The idea that Engie was eager to see you come coupled with the pressure of his fingers was enough to push you over the edge. You called out his name in broken syllables, gripping onto him tightly as you rode out your orgasm.

“Ah ah, keep those pretty eyes open,” he said. You hadn't even realized you had been squeezing your eyes shut until he pointed it out. “I want you to look at me, honey.” You groaned, opening your eyes with some struggle. The look of admiration on Engie’s face immediately made the effort worth it.

You were breathless, panting as he held you in his arms. Your face was flushed down to your neck and the fabric of your underwear was slick with your release. You looked like a proper wreck, yet you couldn’t be happier, especially since Engie hadn’t stopped showering you with kisses since you came down from your high.

“So pretty,” he sighed. “I want to see more. You can come again for me, right sweetheart?”

Oh, you liked the sound of that. You gave him a nod and a breathless, “I think so.” You lifted your head from his shoulder, pressing your lips to his in a surprisingly chaste kiss. “Just be gentle. I’m still sensitive.”

“Of course. Here, let’s get these out of the way.” He pulled your underwear down your legs, letting them drop to the floor. You spread your legs wider, watching as Engie removed his glove, revealing his prosthetic hand.

The Gunslinger had always fascinated you. In fact your inquiries about that marvel of craftsmanship was what had initially drawn you and Engie together. The metal glinted in the yellow glow of the workshop’s lights, highlighting every miniscule detail.

When those mechanical fingers ran over your thigh, you were pleasantly surprised to find that they weren’t cold at all. You had no idea how, but despite being made of metal, the Gunslinger always seemed to match an average human’s body temperature. Sometimes it could even be a bit warmer, which was quite comforting if you wanted some extra heat on an especially cold night. You whimpered as his fingers dipped between your thighs, slowly pressing into you.

Engie watched your face, checking for any sign that you were uncomfortable, that it was too much. When he saw none he continued, sliding his fingers into you to the last knuckle. That earned some louder sounds from you, especially when he began thrusting his digits in and out. You were lucky that no one but Engie came to this part of the base during this time of night. Anyone who overheard you would have immediately known exactly what was going on within the workshop.

“I love those noises of yours. I wonder how loud you can get?” he mused, watching your expression melt into one of ecstasy. Then those fingers curled inside you, striking that sensitive bundle of nerves that was guaranteed to have you moaning. And you most certainly did moan, bucking against his fingers with a harsh cry. However your sounds only reached their peak when Engie paired the curling of his fingers with the stroking of his thumb over your clit.

Your thighs shook as you came again, arching back as your fingers dug into Engie’s leg. You would have fallen to the floor if it wasn’t for his free arm being wrapped firmly around you, keeping you seated safely on his lap. “God damn, that was intense,” Engie chuckled. “I must be doing a good job!”

“Don’t tease me,” you gasped, still trying to catch your breath as your orgasm subsided.

“I would never, darlin.’ But I can’t deny that you're boosting my ego a bit, and I appreciate that.” He waited for you to come down fully, your breathing evening out and your trembling beginning to subside before he continued. “Now, there was one more thing I wanted to show you, if you’re up for it. You see that button at the base of the Gunslinger?” You nodded, following his gaze and immediately spotting the red button where metal met flesh. You were pretty sure it had always been there. It never even occurred to you to ask what its purpose was. “How about you go ahead and press it,” he suggested.

That was all the temptation you needed. Nervously, you reached out and pressed the button, only to let out a startled gasp when the metal appendage started vibrating. “Holy shit,” was all you managed to say in response, making Engie laugh.

“Yeah, that was about the reaction I expected,” he said. “I’ve been working on this in my free time. It was originally gonna be a Valentine's Day gift, but I just couldn’t wait to show it off.”

You were both impressed and baffled. “Are you telling me this is what you’ve been doing in this workshop these past several nights?”

“Not entirely,” Engie said. “Like I said, it was just a pet project.”

You sighed, knowing that you were still recovering from your second orgasm. A third would be a difficult feat, but you couldn’t deny your own curiosity. Where else would you find a man who would literally program his own hand for your pleasure? Plus, you liked the idea of a challenge. “Well, how about we take this little innovation for a test drive?” you asked, giving Engie a seductive look.

He mirrored your expression. “I was hoping you would say that, sweetheart.”

Engie took everything much slower this time, only circling around your clit. Any direct stimulation would surely overwhelm you, and he didn’t want that, at least not yet. Still, you immediately started trembling, not at all prepared for the intensity of the vibrations. That’s not to say it didn’t feel quite nice though. You bit your lip, stifling any moans that tried to escape.

“Don’t start holding back on me now, honey,” Engie said the moment he noticed you were trying to keep quiet. “I wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He began kissing your neck, rubbing firmer circles until your muffled whimpers turned into full on moans once again.

His fingers slipped into you, offering a whole new range of intensity as they curled and thrust against your most sensitive spots. You rocked shamelessly against his palm, forcing his fingers deeper. It was exhausting yet so immensely pleasurable. You bucked and he worked his fingers, both of you ever so gradually working towards a third orgasm.

When you finally did come it happened rather suddenly, starting as a small building of pleasure that quickly escalated until your thighs were quivering and your back was arching. The sound you made when you climaxed was more akin to a sob than a moan.

“Good girl. There’s even more where that came from,” Engie said, not even pulling his fingers out. The implication was clear.

“Dell, I don’t know if I can,” you whimpered.

“Just one more time for me, darlin’,” Engie said between soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “I know you can do it.” His words and his touch were paradoxically comforting and overwhelming. Still, you were effectively tempted to try, signaling your willingness with a shaky nod. Even so, you couldn’t stifle your rather harsh reaction to the feeling of the vibrations becoming stronger.

“Dell! Oh fuck!” Your body sizzled, every sensation feeling like electricity on your skin. If your mind had been clearer you would have been astounded at the effort it must have taken to add not only a vibration function to the Gunslinger, but also multiple settings for said vibrations. However your mind was anything but clear. Engie may have been speaking to you, perhaps crooning words of praise, talking about how much he enjoyed your sensitive body, or how helplessly adorable you looked when you squirmed in his lap. Whatever it was, it all faded into the background as your other senses began to take over.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the pleasure became overwhelming, almost unbearable. It was a constant barrage of touches, moans, and trembling bodies. There was barely any buildup to the fourth and final orgasm, only an unwavering sensation and a sudden, shaking, screaming climax that seemed to hit you out of nowhere, leaving your body as an over sensitive wreck, squirming and reaching for anything to ground yourself.

That thing you were reaching for ended up being Engie himself. You clutched onto him for dear life even long after the aftershocks had faded, still shaking, face red and hot from a few tears that managed to escape. “I’ve got you, darlin,’” Engie whispered, keeping you steady even as your body trembled beneath his touch. The last thing he wanted was you falling off his lap. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

Slowly, your body stopped shivering and your death grip on Engie’s shoulders finally loosened, leaving you to go limp in his arms. Your tears dried and your heart rate dropped, the rush of adrenaline fading until all you were left with was blissful relaxation.

“I’m guessing that you’re more than satisfied now, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Engie asked, allowing himself a smug look once he was sure you had recovered enough. “Did I manage to make up for all the nights that I missed?”

You let out a weak laugh. “God, you definitely did. I just hope you don't expect me to go back to bed. There’s no way I’m going to be able to walk back to our room after that.”

Engie chuckled, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Of course not, honey. Just relax here.” His hand rubbed up and down your back, a soothing and welcome sensation to your still quite sensitive body. “Just close your eyes. If you fall asleep, I’ll carry you back to bed, alright?”

“And you’ll stay, right?” you asked, looking up at him hopefully. He gave you a soft smile, brushing your hair out of your face and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course darlin.’ I’ll stay.”

#tf2 x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #merc x reader #minors dni #smut #tf2 smut #team fortress 2 #cross posted on ao3 #tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #kinktober #engineer x reader #engie x reader #engineer tf2 #tf2 engie #engie tf2 #tf2 engineer

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hoodharlow · 3 days

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Trials and Tribulations

AN: idek 😭😭😭 I was fighting for my life trying to make this happen. There was smut but it the vibes weren't it. Also Jack gif by @harlowgifs. Alsooooo Daisy doesn't exist in this universe

Requested? No

Warnings: mentions of violence (self defense and assault, nothing too graphic), mentions of stalking, mentions of abuse of power, vomit and Jack being 🥺🫂

Word Count: 6.5k words

Jack was about to text Miriam that he was going up her elevator when he spotted her tipping a food delivery driver. She saw him as well and waved. Jack picked up the pace and caught up to her.

“Hey,” he said, giving her a side hug.

“Hi, I'm so sorry for bothering you. You probably had better things to do tonight.” Miriam said.

Clay had left for LA to work with an artist for a few weeks. But before he left, he was helping Miriam with a song for the Barbie soundtrack. She thought they had until July to send in the final product. Then earlier in the day she got a call for Greta Gerwig herself saying that she had until the end of the day to send in her song. She would've flown out to LA to meet up with Clay but she couldn’t because she had a home game the next day that she couldn't miss.

A lot was riding on this game for her. Her dad had let her know that there were going to be scouts for the women's US team as this year was a world cup year for the women's league. This game could determine if Miriam finally gets to play with some of the best soccer players in the world. Four years ago was her first chance but it got ruined because of one of the coaches from Berkeley. That coach was also why she ended up playing in Brazil for the first two years of her professional career. As far as she knew, that coach was out of the picture and nothing stood in the way of her dream of playing at the world cup.

It was a good thing that she procrastinated on her song because it was distracting her from thinking about the game.

“Also don't worry, I'm going to pay you for this.” Miriam added as they entered her private elevator.

Jack shook his head, “Bro, don't worry about it. I'm doing you and my brother a favor.”

“No, you're getting paid. This is more than just a favor for me. This song is going to be in one of the biggest movies out this year. You're getting paid and getting credit. Don't even think about arguing with me.” She pointed a finger at him.

“How about you just give engineering credit and we call it even?” He suggested.

“Jack–”

“Miriam, I'm not arguing with you about this.” He said sternly as he pulled out his phone.

Miriam swallowed hard and simply nodded. There was something about that tone that made her stomach drop. She looked at the receipt of their take out in hopes that it distracted her from the pool she felt in her panties. Thankfully the ride up wasn't long. She led him down the hall to her penthouse. She slipped in her key and pressed a code. The door unlocked and Miriam opened it for them. She closed the and locked it, reentering the code.

“Don't tell me you have a laser alarm too.” Jack teased her.

“My parents made me install all the extra locks since I live alone and all that. It was this or my old bodyguard would have to be in the apartment next to mine.” she explained. She handed him the food and pointed behind her. “Here, help yourself to any drinks in the fridge. I'm going to change real quick.”

Jack nodded. He placed the food on the kitchen island and grabbed a water bottle. He texted Clay as he unloaded all the portable things he and Clay used for when they worked on music on the road.

Miriam emerged from the hallway in Jack's Ear-X-Tacy hoodie and a pair black Ugg slippers, showing off her toned legs. Jack averted his eyes away from her ass and focused on setting up. He typed in his Dell laptop that he used for for producing, configuring the program to what Clay sent him for the song.

“Aren't you going to eat?” She asked him, as she straddled the dining table's bench.

“I ate when I was with Larissa.” He said, not looking up from his laptop.

“Oh my god, you were on a date?! I feel even worse. I'm so–”

“One, I wasn't on a date, especially with Larissa. She's a friend and nothing more. I don't want anything more with her.” He cut her off, making a cringe face. “And two, stop apologizing for me wanting to help you. I haven't seen you in the last few weeks since we've been busy. So I'm glad I'm helping you so we can spend time together.”

“Oh.” She said quietly.

Miriam's cheeks flushed. She nervously fluffed her bangs then shoved a forkful of noodles before she could say anything else that could potentially embarrass her. She looked at Jack's screen and frowned.

“Wait, I think Clay sent you the wrong configurations.” She pointed out as she passed him her phone unlocked. “I took pictures of the ones when we were at your studio. They should be the first few in my camera roll. You can look through my phone. I'll go get the hard drive.”

Jack took her phone and pressed the camera roll. He saw the first picture and locked her phone, placing it face down on the table. The picture was a selfie of Miriam in his hoodie and a lavender lace trim thong. He rubbed the palms of his hands in his eyes, cursing.

“You alright?” She asked him.

“Uh, the first picture was of you only…” he gestured to the hoodie.

Miriam looked at him confused. She unlocked her phone and was met with herself half naked. She also placed her phone facedown. She forgot she got home and took a bunch of selfies in Jack's hoodie. She took a few making silly faces and peace signs but then they got more explicit. She was going to delete them but forgot. She was so exhausted that night from an early morning practice to spending the rest of the day and evening holed up in Jack's studio.

“I don't even know what to say. I didn't…those selfies…” She tried to explain.

“We can pretend like I didn't see anything.” He said.

“That would be great.” Miriam nodded, letting oit a nervous laugh.

Jack leaned in a bit closer to her. In a hushed tone he said, “off the record you did look good in my hoodie.”

“Thanks.” she smiled softly.

Jack cleared his throat. “So the configurations…”

“Right.”

Miriam showed him the actual picture and they got to work. Mainly Jack was the one working. Miriam was still learning about producing and what really goes into song making so she just watched him. It was impressive to see Jack in his element. While he was just clicking around on his computer, adjusting the recorded instruments and Miriam's singing, it showed how meticulous he was and how much attention to detail he paid to make a song good on a technical level.

At one point Clay briefly got on facetime with them to explain to Jack what he wanted. Then he went back to his own work. Miriam then got in contact with Greta Gerwig and the movie editors. They liked what Jack had done and when he finished polishing up the song, they were sending it over.

“I think this is it.” Jack finally said after working in silence.

Miriam sat up and leaned in. “No way! You're fucking amazing! Thank you so much.”

She threw her arms up and hugged him. Jack hugged her back, bringing her closer to his lap. So close she may as well just straddle him. They slowly pulled apart but still held onto each other. Jack cleared his throat. Miriam turned her head, only inches away from his. Her eyes drifted down to his lips and back to his blue eyes.

Before anything could happen, the doorbell rang followed by a bark. Miriam cursed as she scrambled off Jack. She tugged down her shorts and opened the door.

“Roni!” She exclaimed, hugging a golden retriever.

“No pos yo valgo verga.” Her dad mumbled as he trailed inside with a dog crate and medium sized suitcase. That was when he noticed his youngest wasn't alone. “Harlow?”

“Hi Mr. Dominguez.” Jack waved from the table.

Roni, the golden retriever, heard Jack's voice and wandered inside to sniff him out. He approached Jack cautiously and stuck its nose onto him. It leaned down and barked happily, wagging its tail. Roni then laid on his back. Jack reached over and scratched Roni's tummy.

“Jack was helping me with the song for Barbie.” Miriam told her dad.

“We just finished it, so I should get going,” he said.

“Are you sure?”she asked.

“I still have to pack for Vegas. We fly out tomorrow in the afternoon, but I want to have my morning free.” Jack explained.

“If you're not busy in the morning you can join me and Miriam for some drills.” Mateo said. “I rented out an indoor soccer field a few hours before Miriam's game.”

Jack's face lit up. “You mean like I can train with you?”

“Papi, he just said that he wanted his morning free.” Miriam sighed.

“I'll make time.” Jack waved her off.

“Okay now that el cabron is settled, I should get going. I have reservations for dinner with Isabela.” Her dad said.

Miriam frowned. “Mami's here too?”

“Yeah, we're staying at the 21C Hotel. I just came to drop off my baby.” He shrugged.

“I thought I was your baby.” She mumbled.

“Isa is waiting for me.” Mateo said, ignoring what she said. He leaned over and kissed Miriam's forehead. “I'll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Bye.” Miriam said.

“I'll see you tomorrow at seven a.m. sharp.” Miriam's dad said before closing the door behind him.

Roni huffed and climbed on Miriam's bisexual velvet green couch. Miriam made a mental note to vacuum brush him so his fur wouldn't get all over her couch.

“I'm all packed up.” Jack said, tugging on the strap of his backpack. “I saved everything on the hard drive and got a copy for myself just in case. I sent it to Clay as well. If you need anything just text me.”

“Oh, okay.” She said, trying not to sound disappointed.

She was hoping that they could hang out for a little longer, maybe watch a movie. But she understood that Jack had a pretty busy schedule and she shouldn't be getting in the way.

“I'll see you tomorrow before I leave.” he reassured her.

“I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but please don't come to practice. My dad's really tough when it comes to drills and all that.” Miriam said.

Jack gave her a pointed look. “Miriam, I was on varsity all four years of high school and I've been playing indoor soccer for years. My team won our league division. I'll be fine.”

Jack was exhausted. He'd been in the indoor soccer field with Miriam and her dad for over three hours. When Mateo asked him if he wanted to train with him and Miriam, Jack wasn’t expecting a full on scrimmage with drills. Especially since Miriam had a game later tonight. Hell, before they even began running drills, Mateo made them run ten laps around the perimeter of the indoor field. He was ready to tap out right then and there, but he wasn't going to let Miriam tell him ‘I told you so.’”

Mateo blew his whistle. “Five minute water break.”

He jogged over to Miriam's mom, who was sitting on the stands typing away on her MacBook.

Miriam walked over to Jack and sat on the turf next to him. Jack laid on the ground and groaned in pain.

“Don't even think about saying it.” He winced.

“Do you need tiger balm?” She asked, trying not to laugh.

“Not at the moment.” He said, pushing himself up.

Jack looked over to Miriam and she hadn't even broken a sweat yet. She was in a sports bra and her soccer shorts, but she looked ethereal in them, like she was going to shoot a sportswear ad and not that she'd been playing for two hours.

He could help but admire her. She was toned all over but she still looked delicate. Miriam carried herself with grace and elegance but when she played, she morphed herself into a different person. She was one with the ball and field. One thing he noticed was a scar on her left side near her middle of her ribs. It was the size and shape of a men's soccer cleat.

“What?” Miriam asked, looking at Jack confused. She followed his eyes and covered up her scar by folding her arms over it.

“Hm?” He responded back.

“You've been staring at me for a minute straight.” She giggled.

“Sorry, I zoned out.” He apologized.

“Oh, no worries.” She waved him off.

They both sat in awkward silence. The only sounds were from Roni chasing down his toy lobster and Miriam's parents being all giggly in the stands. Roni trotted over to Miriam and pushed her on the ground. He pounced on her chest then plopped his lobster toy on her face.

“Roni, get off.” Miriam gasped.

Jack reached for the toy and tossed it across the field. Roni took off running after it.

“Where did his name come from?” Jack asked.

“One of my dad's friend's dogs had puppies and he gave them away. Another friend named his puppy Teo after my dad so my dad named ours Roni after his friend.” She explained.

“Who's his friend?” He reached for his water bottle.

“Ronaldinho.” Miriam shrugged casually before sipping her water.

Jack choked on his water in response.

“Don't act so shocked you met him too.” She laughed.

“How do you know?” He looked at her confused.

“I went to his birthday party with my dad last year. I was expecting you to come up to my dad but you didn't. Which I get since Anitta was your date and all.” She said casually.

“One, Anitta wasn't my date; she was the only personI knew and who spoke English. Two, I did say hi to your dad but I wasn't going to be all up on him. I can't have him think I'm obsessed with him.” He explained.

“But you are obsessed with my dad.” She pointed out.

“But he can't know that.” He said in a duh tone.

“Oh, of course not. It's not like you jumped at the first chance to play soccer with him.” She said sarcastically.

Jack rolled his eyes, “You're a smart ass, you know that right?”

“It's one of my many assets that people love about me.” she smiled.

“What are the others?” he asked.

“You should've scrolled on my camera roll yesterday and seen for yourself.” Miriam smiled sweetly.

Jack was silent, confused on what she meant.

Mateo blew his whistle and jogged to the goalpost. Miriam got up and dusted off the black and green bits of turf off her shorts before going to him. Jack did the same and went to them.

For the rest of the hour the three of them spent it on working on Miriam's penalty shots. One of her weakest skill sets. She was good for assisting in clearing a way for the ball to reach the goal. She scored obviously but she always felt more comfortable battling it out. She felt an immense pressure when it came to penalty shots. She got in her head and would freeze up, kicking the ball in the most predictable direction or she'd miss completely.

After packing up their things, Miriam’s parents left for their hotel to freshen up for lunch. Miriam had a team lunch so she wasn’t going to see her parents until the game. So that left Jack and Miriam in the parking lot. They stood by Miriam's car talking. Jack was getting picked up by Urban so they were waiting for him to come and get him. Roni was sleeping in Miriam’s car with the AC turned up all the way.

“Make sure to stretch. You’re going to be sore later.” Miriam said.

“I’ll be fine.” Jack waved her off.

“You were out of breath three laps in our warm up.” she laughed.

“I don’t have the stamina for running laps.” He said defensively.

“What do you have stamina for then?” she asked him.

He smirked in response.

“If only there was a way for you to prove it.” She gave him a coy smile.

Jack took it as his sign to go for it. He leaned down and kissed Miriam. She melted into him. She stood on her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, deepening their kiss. Jack pressed himself against her and slowly rutted his hips. He swallowed Miriam's desperate moans and wrapped one of her legs over his waist. He slipped his hand in her shorts, gripping the fleshy part where her ass and thigh met.

A loud honk startled them. Jack looked over his shoulder and saw Urban with the largest ‘I told you so’ smirk. He flipped his best friend and turned back to Miriam.

“When I get back from Vegas, I’ll take you out on a proper date.” He told her.

“Okay.” Miriam smiled.

He leaned in for another kiss but Miriam curved him.

“As much as I want to stay here and keep kissing you, I should get going. My mom probably checked my location and is going to call me, wondering why I haven't

left.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Drive safe and text me when you get home.”

“I will.” She kissed his cheek.

��Wait,” he pulled her arm back and gave her a proper kiss. “Okay, I’ll see you when I get back. Don’t forget to kick some ass later.”

Jack took a step back but Miriam pulled him back. She held his cheek and kissed him.

Times like this Urban wished he carried a spray bottle. He pressed on the honk for ten seconds then pressed it short spurts. Miriam’s dog popped his head out from the window and barked at Urban. Eventually Jack and Miriam pulled away. That was when Urban stopped.

Miriam fluffed her curls and waved at Urban. “Hi, Urban.”

“Are you done dry humping my best friend?” He smirked.

Jack was getting in the car and smacked Urban.

“For now.” Miriam said. “Have a safe flight.”

She got in her car and adjusted the AC so it wasn't too cold. Miriam waved to Jack and Urban as she drove off. She was on cloud nine and nothing could ruin her good mood. All she needed was to play her game and get recruited for everything to be perfect.

It was half time. Racing Louisville was winning by two goals. One of which Miriam scored. She snuck into one of the bathroom stalls in the locker room and checked her phone. She'd been messaging Jack the rest of the day until she had to get ready for her game. The last thing she sent him was a silly selfie of her in his hoodie. He responded with a Tom from Tom & Jerry where he ascended to heaven after passing out.

She decided to respond with one of the explicit selfies she took in his hoodie. Jack responded immediately with ‘are you trying to kill me fr’. Miriam frowned. He should be on his flight to Vegas by now. He could have wifi on his flight but something in her gut made her think this wasn't the case.

‘Are you still in Louisville?’ She sent him.

‘Yeah, the jet reserved for us wasn't available anymore. My managers are trying to work something out. Congrats on your goal though.’ He replied.

‘I can ask my dad if you can borrow his jet. My parents don't leave until later in the week.’

‘Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out. Focus on your game.’

Miriam attached her dad's number. ‘Here's my dad's number just in case. I'll text you later.’

She walked out of the stall and went to wash her face in the sink.

“Miriam, guess who I saw!” Larissa yelled.

“Jesus,” Miriam jumped back, clutching her phone to her chest.

“Hey, focus.” She snapped her fingers in Miriam's face.

“Don't do that.” She pushed Larissa's hand away from her face.

“Well pay attention. Guess who I saw.” She grinned.

“No clue.” Miriam said, dabbing her face with a paper towel.

“Couch Garrett, remember him. Apparently he's one of the coaches for North Carolina.” Larissa said.

Miriam's stomach dropped hearing Coach Garrett. “I have to talk to my dad.”

She pushed past Larissa and rushed out the locker room.

“Miriam!” Her dad approached her.

“He's here! He's not supposed to be here.” Her voice trembled. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can't play. He–”

She rushed to the closest trash bin and threw up. Miriam flinched, feeling a hand rub her back. She looked to see who it was. She let out a choked sob when she realized it was her mom. Miriam wrapped her arms around her.

“Beto already alerted security and the coaches. He's technically permitted to be in the premises.” her dad said in a defeated voice.

“I want to go home.” Miriam said in a small voice.

“But–” her dad began.

“Teo, my daughter's safety is more important than some soccer game.” Isabela snapped at him.

“No, I should play. I shouldn't have to cower and not live my life. This is important to me.” Miriam said, pushing herself off her mom. She wiped her face. “I should go.”

“Miriam…” her mom began.

“I'll see you guys in a bit.”

Miriam gave them her best fake smile. She kissed her parents’ cheeks and went to meet up with her teammates. She reassured her coaches she was fine to continue playing. She went to her spot on the field. She looked over to where her old coach was.

He was sitting in the back with a few players from the other team. They gathered around him all smiling and talking animatedly. He looked toward Miriam's direction. Their eyes met and he gave her a soulless smile. She averted her eyes and focused on the game.

The referee blew their whistle and the game continued. Miriam couldn't concentrate. She kept making simple mistakes. She missed the ball and one of the other team's players took the ball from her. They scored. Then they scored once more. By the end of the game Racing Louisville ended up losing 3-2.

It was the worst Miriam played and she once played with a fever and without her contacts. She went to the nearest trash bin and threw up once more. She took a sip of her water and swished it around her mouth before spitting it out.

A man in a suit and a woman in a pantsuit with the US Women's team logo on the jacket pocket approached Larissa. Miriam watched as Larissa's face lit up. She nodded and shook their hands. The scouts didn't talk to anyone else.

“I got recruited!” Larissa squealed.

A few of their teammates congratulated her but the rest exchanged looks. Truthfully Miriam was surprised Larissa got recruited. She'd been injured half of the time and for this game she only played for five minutes. Besides Miriam, there were more qualified players to have been picked. Despite that Miriam was happy for her friend. From their Berkeley days to now, Larissa had improved by a lot.

“Okay, time to line up.” Their head coach said.

For home games, the coaches lined up first followed by the team captain and the goalie, then the rest of the team in numerical order. Since Miriam was number 80, she went to the back. The visiting team lined up the same, but with the coaches in the end.

As the line went down, Miriam realized she was going to have to shake hands with her old coach. If someone didn't shake hands with anyone from the opposing team, it was viewed as disrespectful. But Miriam couldn't bring herself to do it. At the last second she put her hand behind her back.

She felt a rough pull back. It was her coach. He gripped her wrist and tried to open her hand to shake it. On instinct Miriam punched him with her free hand. He let go immediately but tried to reach for her again. One of the stadium's security guards grabbed him.

Everything felt like it was going in slow motion. Beto gently grabbed Miriam and escorted her away. He took her to the medic room. Her parents were bickering on the opposite end of the room. When they saw her, everything resumed to its normal speed.

“Mi niña.” Isabela gasped, wrapping her arms around her.

Miriam hissed in pain. She clutched her wrist. It was bright red with his hand print burnt on her skin. The knuckles of her other hand were covered in blood. The medic treated her hands. The blood on her knuckles wasn't hers so that hand was fine. Her other hand wasn't sprained but they wrapped it up in a bandage to prevent it from worsening.

The security that pulled her coach off her was at the door with an actual police officer. Mateo and Beto walked out of the medic room to talk to them. The officer came into the room and asked Miriam to describe the events of the altercation. The officer kept pressing her as to why the coach would act like that towards her, irritating Miriam.

“I used to hook up with his fiancé. At the time I wasn't aware. Okay?” She snapped.

Her mom rubbed her arm. “Maybe we can come into the station and finish the report some other time.”

“No, I just want to get this over with and go home.” Miriam said.

She answered a few more questions for the officer. After what felt like an eternity they finished up. The officer had the nerve to ask for a picture with Miriam's mom. Isabela gave him a dirty look and walked out of the medic room.

Miriam went to the locker room and gathered her things. It was pretty empty by the time she went. She turned off her phone and slammed her locker shut. She rested her forehead against the cool metal of the locker door. She took deep breaths to center herself. As she walked out, a few straggling teammates hugged her and offered their support. They didn't know for what, but they still wanted Miriam to know she was loved and appreciated by them.

She followed her parents to their rental. They gave Beto Miriam's keys so he could follow them in her car. Miriam curled up in the backseat. She silently cried the entire drive home. Once she was in her home, she went to shower. She sat on the shower floor and cried.

Her day started out amazingly only to end in one of the worst ways possible.

Jack rubbed his temple as he listened to Larissa talk his ear off.

“Please, this is the only favor I'm asking you for.” She pleaded. “I made the US Women's team and I want to celebrate.”

“Riss, if I make the call, I have to go. And honestly, I'm not really up for it. Plus it'll be a huge slap in the face for my fans that went to Vegas. It'll look shitty if I'm seen at a club when I just canceled a paid gig.” Jack explained.

“You're so lame.” She scoffed.

She hung up on him. Jack rolled his eyes and tossed his phone his bed.

Obviously he was happy for her, but she had to think for two seconds. Jack knew it would cause a lot of backlash for him if he was out partying. He felt like shit because he'd never canceled an appearance or a concert in all of his career. He also felt uncomfortable about how Larissa talked about Miriam. When she called him she vented to him about how Miriam took the spotlight away from her at the game. According to Larissa, Miriam was jealous that she didn't make the team and took her anger out on their old college coach. Because of that all the sports pages were talking about Miriam and the coach and about Larissa.

It just didn't make sense to Jack why she would twist it like that. He watched a live stream of the game and he saw when the coach got physical with Miriam and she defended herself. Urban was watching with him and even he was disgusted with how the coach manhandled Miriam.

Jack reached for his phone and texted Miriam. He'd been trying to check in on her in the last few hours, but everything went to voice-mail. He wanted to make sure she was safe. She was safe in the grand scheme of things, but he wanted to hear it from her directly. He didn't know why the coach reacted like that, but he knew Miriam didn't deserve it. He even called Clay to see if he knew anything, but his brother was just as unaware as he was.

He grew more impatient so he got dressed in some comfortable clothes and grabbed his keys. He drove to Miriam's place. He checked in with the doorman, but he didn't let Jack go. He held up his finger for him to wait. He called up to Miriam's floor. A few nods and an ‘of course’, the doorman let Jack upstairs.

When he reached the floor, he was met with Miriam's bodyguard. Jack had seen him a few times but he usually was a few feet away and never talked to him. He slipped inside and seconds later he came out. Beto walked down the hall and entered the other penthouse.

The door opened, revealing Miriam.

“Hey, I know this is late but I just wanted to check–”

“Do you wanna come in?” She asked.

“Sure.” Jack nodded.

“What happened to Vegas?” She asked him, leading him to the living room.

“We tried getting a different jet but nothing was able to accommodate us.” He said.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” Miriam said.

“It happens. Sometimes things just don't work out for the best.”

Roni got up from his crate and sniffed Jack. Then he went back to lay in his crate.

“Do you want anything to drink or eat? I have a bunch of stuff. Or we can order in and–” Miriam's voice cracked.

She'd be trying her best to not cry in front of Jack. But she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Miriam wrapped her arms around Jack. He hugged her back. She immediately broke into sobs. Jack let her cry it out. He rubbed her back as she clung to him. A few minutes passed and Miriam relaxed. She pulled away and rubbed her face.

“I'm so sorry. That was–”

“Don't apologize for feeling things. You were hurt and have every right to feel upset, Miriam. You didn't deserve it.” Jack said, brushing a few curls off her face.

“Can we talk about something else?” She suggested.

“Do you want a grilled cheese sandwich? I've been told that I make a mean sandwich.” he offered her.

“Okay.” Miriam nodded.

She led him to the kitchen and showed him the sandwich and salad drawer in the fridge. It was filled with all sorts of deli meats, cheeses, condiments, sauces, spreads, and veggies. Jack picked the basics: white cheddar, mozzarella and shaved parmesan cheese. He also grabbed a jar of mayo.

“Where's your bread?” Jack asked, carefully rummaging through her fridge.

“In the pantry. Where else?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Oh you're an outside bread person.” He said in a fake judgemental voice. “Don't tell me you also put your ketchup in the fridge.”

“That's what the bottle says.” Miriam said defensively.

“If you say so.”

Miriam went into the pantry and grabbed a loaf of sourdough she bought at the farmer's market. She also came out with a box of bagel chips. She handed Jack the bread and reached for the goat cheese she had near the butter. She sat back and snacked on them. She fed Jack some cheese and crackers while he prepared his cooking station.

“This tastes expensive.” He said after trying a piece of white cheddar.

“I don't know. I bought it at Whole Foods.” She shrugged.

“I rest my case.” He mumbled.

Miriam tossed him a cracker, making him laugh. Their eyes met and they shared a soft smile.

Jack focused on their sandwiches. He basically put his reputation on the line. He placed some butter on a skillet to melt while he spread mayo on both sides of each slice. Then he carefully layered on the cheeses. Once the sandwiches were assembled, he carefully carried them to the stove.

“I was hooking up with his fiancé.” Miriam blurted out, making Jack drop the sandwich.

It landed on the skillet but most of the cheese fell out.

“Who?” Jack asked.

“My coach.” She said, shamefully. She didn't look up to Jack's eyes. She concentrated on the wrapper the goat cheese came in. “I didn't know when we first started seeing each other. She told me she was single. The natural thing was to believe her. She was doing her PhD in kinestheology at Stanford. So we didn't see each other that often to form an exclusive relationship. So we settled on friends with benefits. When I didn't have a game or whatever, I'd order her an Uber to come visit me.”

“How long were y'all together?” Jack asked.

“About seven months during my third year of college. It wasn't until a team banquet with all of my teammates, our families, the coaches and their families towards the end of spring semester that I found out. Coach Garrett brought her as his plus one. He made a joke about it being forbidden love because she went to Stanford and we were at Berkeley. I pulled her aside and confronted her. She made up some bullshit excuse and tried to make me feel about confronting her.

I was confused for a while. She was technically the most serious relationship with a woman that I ever had. The other girls I've been with usually hook ups that fizzled out to flings. They never lasted. With Carly, it was different. Before finding out she was with coach Garrett. We talked about starting a life together, moving in, and all that. I eventually ended it. I couldn't be the other woman, no matter how much she tried to make me think it was okay.

But that was when it took a turn. Carly wouldn't leave me alone. I'd see her everywhere. The final nail was when she showed up to my grandma's house when I was visiting her and my dad's step-dad. Dom called the police. It was a shit show. Coach Garrett had to bail her out and that was when he found out.

Practices were a pain in the ass after that. He would tell the other coaches I was being difficult and they wouldn't let me play. Then one day I stayed late to work on some drills on my own. And that was when he…” Miriam sniffled. “Sorry.”

Jack reached for her hand and gently rubbed her hand with his thumb. “You don't have to share if you don't want to. You don't owe me anything.”

“I know, but I want to.” She said. She cleared her throat. “He saw me and decided to confront me about it. I tried to ignore him but he got closer and all up in my personal space. Then he grabbed me like he did today. But back then he threw me to the ground. I knew a bit of self defense so I was able to kind of protect myself. I tried running, but he caught up to me and threw me to the ground. He stomped on my ribs, fracturing two of them. That was when Beto showed up and tackled him to the ground. I passed out and I woke up in the hospital.

I made my whole statement with the police. My parents got me a five year restraining order. Coach Garrett ended up transferring to a different college for my fourth year at Berkeley. He has a lot of connections through his dad. They were also able to hide the restraining order from his record. It was still active but there was a loophole that we could be in the same premises as long as he didn't approach me. Then when it was time getting recruited for professional and club teams, he got me blacklisted. I didn't get drafted into any teams here or in Europe. My dad eventually pulled some strings and got me in a team in Brazil. But yeah that's pretty much it. My parents flew back to LA to have a judge reinforce the restraining order.”

Jack was quiet. He couldn't figure out what to tell her. He was angry at the coach for hurting Miriam. She didn't deserve any of it.

“You wanna know what the cherry on top is? According to Larissa they got married and had a kid.” Miriam laughed dryly.

“You didn't deserve any–”

“I went through years of therapy. I heard it all. It's just not something I share with anyone, but I trusted you enough to. You probably want to run for the hills. I totally understand if you do.”

“You can't get rid of me that easily. I appreciate you trusting me enough to be able to share that.” Jack said.

“Okay change of topics, how are those sandwiches coming along?” Miriam asked, looking at the stove behind Jack.

“You gotta be patient.” He said in his customer service voice.

While the sandwiches cooked, Miriam helped Jack clean up around the kitchen

She also got them drinks from the pantry. Jack plated up their sandwiches and followed Miriam back to the living room. They ate in silence as they watched the original White Men Can't Jump. When they finished eating, Miriam placed their dishes in the sink. She grabbed a blanket and placed it over them while they watched the rest of the movie.

Miriam curled up against Jack. Her legs draped over his thighs while he had an arm around her back. Their eyes met. Miriam took it as a hint and leaned in but Jack moved his head.

“As much as I want to, not today.” He said.

“Okay.” She nodded. “Can you still spend the night with me?”

“I was hoping so. I got really comfortable on your couch. I might visit you more often just to nap.” He joked.

“Only to nap?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Among other things, but for tonight, we're watching tv and sleeping.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow angst #jack and miriam #jack and miriam: soccer edition #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fan fiction

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fiapartridge · 6 months

Text

catching fire au | jack hughes ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

-> AU TIMELINE !

the first part of the au takes place during the 2021 draft. she's living in vancouver, ca. she's 18 years old.

after getting drafted to the devils (round 1, pick 32), she goes to play hockey for umich -- she meets luke there!!

riley and luke become best friends, bond over being devils, and they end up signing their elcs together in 2023

the second part of the au takes place in 2023 -- riley's rookie season (she's 20 years old)

-> IMPORTANT INFO !

jack hates her immediately. tbh, he hated her when he first heard her name get called during the draft. he thought it was absurd that the devils drafted a girl.

lindy places them on the same line.

+ once she joins the team, everything is off. jack is particularly mean to her: never passing her the puck, smashing her into the boards, stealing the puck from her, never inviting her to team meetups, and always talking bad about her.

but riley hates jack just as much as he hates her -- maybe even more

nico treats riley like a little sister, always trying to protect her, always getting on jack for being mean to her, and always fighting anyone that lays a hand on her during games

she's best friends with all of the wags; they're her best friends (other than luke) when she's there

jack was the star player before riley joined, but once she's on the team, all eyes are on her. sponsorships are begging to take her, the media loves her, the crowds are filled with jerseys of the devils' golden girl. jack was old news.

-> RILEY DELL !

red wavy hair, freckles, tall

top prospect

18 years old when drafted

her birthday is july 24, 2003

born in vancouver, canada

gets drafted to the devils

round 1, pick 32

right wing for the new jersey devils

her number: 5

joins 2 years after getting drafted (played at umich for two years w/ luke + they signed their elcs together)

besties w/ luke

20 years old during her rookie season

lives in the same apartment complex as the hughes brothers (literally like down the hall)

-> JACK HUGHES !

the devils' star player. round 1, pick 1 of the 2019 draft

he's 22 during riley's rookie season

his birthday is may 14, 2001

center for the new jersey devils

riley dell's #1 hater !!

-> IMAGINES !

the draft

the underdog

devils' golden girl

author's note: send in ideas for the au if u have any!! kay love u ! cant wait to write more! <3333

#catching fire au #jack hughes x hockey!player #jack hughes #jack hughes au #jack hughes x reader

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beastyboyxx · 6 months

Text

A Boy Crush ★

Warnings: Dialogue Heavy, Crushing Scout, Nervous Scout, Poor Flirting, Having A Crush, MLM, Blunt Reader, Antisocial Reader, Funny Scout, Kissing.

Characters: Jeremy (Scout)

Category: One-Shot (Series ???)

Series: Team Fortress

Word Count: 1150

After a successful day at protecting the intelligence and keeping the facility safe the team could finally kick back and relax. Celebrating at their hard work with a small party.

Scout tapped his foot repeatedly at the ground, unbeknownst to him. His eyes darting around the room in search for a specific person. That person being you.

“There he is! Have any drinks yet youngin?” Dell strolled up to Scouts side. Patting him on the back with his free hand holding onto a beer.

“Nah, just lookin’ for someone.” Scout rolled his shoulders. Trying to ease his nerves.

“Whats that? Have your eyes on somebody. Huh.” Dell paused, his eyes trailing off into the crowd of the team. Suddenly he let out a wheezing laugh. “Oh I remember. The new guy!”

“It ain’t like dat!” Scout nudged the engineers hand off of his shoulder. His eyebrow twitching with slight annoyance.

“Look, I don’t think he’ll show up. Not to burn your barn or anything.” Dell took a swig of the beer. “He’s sorta shy. At least I think?”

“Tch, Kay thanks for the intel.” Scout took off leaving the party behind in search for his secret boy crush.

The party went on. It could be heard from almost any nook of the facility. The halls were empty with not a single soul around besides all getting drunk together. All besides you and Scout. It was unknown as to where you usually hid, but Scout was confident he could find you in a blink.

…

An hour had officially passed. No sign of you and no luck for the speedy Scout. He was about to drop it all and give up, maybe drink himself to bed to forget his loss at finding you.

Just then the timing perfect like fate was toying with the boy crazy man. You had just walked out of the kitchen room. Two soda cans in hand. Your eyes immediately fell on Scouts. The poor guy stood there dumbfounded.

“Uhh… hey! Whatta you got there?” Scout straightened his back. His fists at his hips.

“Soda.” You replied. Lifting one can.

“Why ain’t you at the party? It’s pretty cool… right now.” Scout swayed his arms. Trying to loosen his nerves.

“I don’t like parties.”

“Cool…! Yeah neither do I. They’re too loud n’ too dumb or whatever.”

“Okay.” You stared. Like an owl, not really knowing what to say. “Bye.” You turned, beginning to head down the hallway.

“Hey wait! I was lookin’ for you!” Scout quickly followed after you. Jogging up to be at your side as he matched your pace.

“Why are you always hiding? Do the other guys scare you?” Scout laughed a bit.

“No. I just don’t like to be social.” You shrugged.

“It’s been like that for a while.”

“Well you can be social with me! I don’t bite…unless you want me to.” Scout slid up. Stopping you in your tracks. His hand on the wall beside the two of you and his other resting loosely on his hip.

You looked him up and down. Not amused. “Cool.” You stepped past him and continued walking.

“Ah okay wait… that was bad. Look I just… I ain’t never liked a boy before y’know. N’ you especially, you’re like Batman.”

“Batman…?” You stopped, turning to face him in the hallway.

“Jus’ look. I think you’re cool, and I like you.” Scout rested his hands on his hips. His head dropping to look at his shoes. “Like like you.”

“You are very bad at this.” You shook your head.

“Hey!” Scout shot his eyes up to yours. His expression of shock.

You couldn’t help but smile. Turning back to face the hallway and continue your journey to hide somewhere and enjoy some alone time to yourself. Unless the boy decided to chase his crush, you wouldn’t mind it.

Scout stood in the hall. A bit heartbroken from your bluntness. You stopped, turning back to face him, nodding your head. “You coming?”

He was like a puppy the second you tell them you have a treat. His back straightened, his eyes widening and his smile growing. Scout needed no further explanation as he jogged up to your side once again.

The two of you began to run around the halls of the facility. It reminded you of how young you used to be. It was a sweet childish moment the two of you shared. You showed Scout a side of you that nobody had ever seen. The night was young and so were the two of you.

Eventually you both wound up on one of the roofs of the facilities buildings. The stars twinkling high in the sky. Scout humming some song while tapping his foot to some imaginary beat.

The party was still going on. Just under the two of you. Men laughing and shouting while music thumped throughout the building.

Scout sat down on the edge of the building. Just next to you. “Y’know… would it be rude to ask why you’re so quiet?” Scout drew his attention to you.

“Not really. I like you so it wouldn’t matter.” Your eyes dropped to meet his.

“An honest answer is I just don’t find my words to be meaningful. My actions are more important.”

“So like, if you punched somebody in the face you’re saying you hate em’ rather than just sayin’ it?” Scout talked with his hands.

“… I feel like anybody who got punched in the face would rightfully assume that person doesn’t like them.”

The two of you laughed together. Scout enjoying the moment with his whole heart. Both of you in unison cracking open the sodas and clanking them together before drinking them down.

Scout let out a burp. Jeez he was such a kid in a man’s body. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Why do you like me.”

Scout almost choked on his soda. He coughed before quickly recovering. “Why? Well… I dunno… you’re like somebody I wanted to be I guess.”

“That’s impossible for you.”

“Ay, let me finish.” Scout pointed at you. “Not that, I have never liked guys before. But the first day you came to work for us. All I could think was ‘wow’…”

“You want to see a good example of my actions meaning more?” You turned to Scout.

The man smiled, nervously. His hands beginning to fidget. He knew, and you knew. Slowly you leaned in. The two of you closing your eyes as you shared an electrifying moment. A moment passed and you both pulled back.

“You wanna be my boyfriend…?” Scout blurted out. His face a bit red.

“Absolutely.” You turned your attention to the sky once again. A small smile snug on your face.

#m4m #male reader #x male reader #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x male reader #tf2 #fluff

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cuubism · 10 months

Text

the better to see you with, my dear | spy hob/king dream au

canon-adjacent, spy!hob, post-character death, blood & violence, king & loyal knight dynamic, slow burn, developing relationship, loyalty devotion and sacrifice, power dynamics, hob gadling - royal spy of the dreaming

Hob escapes from Death and finds himself in the Dreaming. Instead of sending him back, the King of Dreams makes him an offer: will you be my spy?

[cover image from Arthur Rackham's illustration for Little Red Riding Hood]

The... person? creature? that dragged Hob from his hiding place in the forest had six arms, and three sets of eyes.

Though that seemed to be on the more normal end of things that went on around here, so Hob wasn’t too fazed.

It caught him by luck, followed him when Hob had made the—foolish in retrospect—decision to sneak into the nearby town to try to learn something about this strange realm he’d found himself in. Curiosity had done him in. His mum had always said it would, when he’d fallen in streams chasing minnows and gotten sick from eating berries picked in the woods. Touch with your eyes, Hob, not with your hands. Hob had never been very good at that.

Up ’til then, Hob had sequestered himself in the forest, keeping to himself and scavenging for plants to eat. He hadn’t seemed to need much food, didn’t get hungry often or lose weight when he didn’t eat, which he supposed made sense considering— well. Considering. But it kept him occupied. Kept him from thinking about it too much.

And he explored the fantastical forest. Its trees broader than he could wrap his arms around, reaching up into the sky higher than he could see. Its grassy dells, with wildflowers in detail and variety he’d never seen, its bird and insect life, its towering waterfalls and quiet brooks. Hob loved the forest. There was something truly ancient about it, something wilder than he could comprehend.

It was almost enough to distract him from why he was there.

But he got too curious. He wanted to know more, he wanted to understand the rest of this world, what realm he was in— so he’d gone searching for people.

And drawn something back with him.

Inevitable, really. Hob couldn’t hide in some place he didn’t belong forever.

The six-legged thing that had caught him was now dragging him across a wide, grassy field, traveling faster than Hob would have thought possible. Its claws dug into his arm, nearly drawing blood. Hob didn’t bother fighting back. He’d tried, once along the way, and gotten what felt like a sack of bricks to the face from the creature’s fist. No use trying to take it in a fight; better to keep his wits about him and look for a chance to escape. Nor did he bother asking it any questions. He’d tried that, too, and gotten only stony silence.

In any case, he was too preoccupied with taking in the scene around him.

Hob had been aware that this place, this… realm, he supposed, had a castle. He had seen the strange silhouette of it in the distance whenever he was at the forest’s edge, had heard occasional gossip by eavesdropping on actual denizens of the realm. But despite his curiosity, he’d steered far clear; the last thing he’d needed was to attract powerful attention.

Now, they were approaching said castle, and Hob let his curiosity run free, gaping up at the towering marble spires. The seemingly endless wings, the intricate carvings, hell, the elevated bridge that crossed the river to the front gates… he had never seen nor even heard of anything approaching its like back in his world. It was like something out of a children’s story, a fairy tale.

Was that where he was? The land of faerie? That couldn’t possibly be good.

Better than death, though, had to be. Hell, Hob would join ranks with the bloody fey if it kept him alive, what did he care where his loyalty lay?

The palace gates creaked open at their approach, and the creature pulled Hob through into the chill, shadowed rooms within. They stepped into a hall so massive Hob couldn’t see the ceiling or the end of it, but he had barely a moment to take any of it in before his captor was flinging him down onto the marble floor.

Hob just barely managed to catch himself on his bound hands. He panted, trying to catch his breath from the forced uphill march to get there, hair hanging in his eyes.

"There is no need for the dramatics," said a voice. A voice that seemed to come from the sky above and the shadows beneath his body and from within his own chest, resounding like the perpetual hum of the heavens turning. “Leave him to me.”

In his peripheral vision, the creature bowed jerkily and scurried off, leaving Hob alone with the owner of that voice.

He wrenched his tired head up. He was in an immense throne room, grander than anything he could have imagined, pillars reaching up to a ceiling that faded away into starlight, massive stained-glass windows that cast triangles of red light down on Hob’s face. How there could be sunlight and a night sky up above at once, Hob didn't know, but then, he still didn’t know what this place was. What kingdom he had found himself in. He had been too preoccupied with not getting caught to risk asking.

The owner of that voice was seated at the top of a long, winding staircase, the windows at his back, sprawled on one of the top steps rather than on the throne that was presumably there for that purpose. From a distance, Hob could only really make out the shape of him – the sweeping black lines of his cloak, the sharp angles of his limbs, his dark hair, his unnaturally bright eyes.

He didn't look like a king as Hob was used to seeing them depicted, with all their gold and finery. But he felt like one, in the way Hob stood at the altar of a church and felt the presence of the Lord.

The King stood, a slow, fluid motion like the rising of the moon. He strode down the steps toward Hob, cloak dragging at his ankles.

Hob could have run for it. There was nobody else in the room, nobody holding him captive, no guards, no retinue.

It was precisely because of that that he did not. No guards meant the King was absolutely confident in his ability to restrain Hob himself if need be, and more besides.

What the hell kind of kingdom was this?

“Robert Gadling.” The King stopped before Hob, close enough that Hob had to tilt his head up to look at him from where he was still kneeling on the floor. He had a beautiful face, a regal face, imperious tilt to it and all. Eyes like moonlight on winter’s first snowfall.

“Hob, if you please,” said Hob, because he had never known when to shut the fuck up.

The King’s lips twitched, and Hob had no way of knowing but he would have sworn it was amusement. “Hob, then.” Despite the stone walls, the empty space, his voice did not echo. It was simply there. Hob felt it inside his head, inside his heart. “Would you care to explain to me what you are doing in the Dreaming?”

“The Dreaming?” Hob asked.

The King raised an eyebrow. “You stand in the Kingdom of Dreams, my kingdom. You do not know this?”

“Uh.” Hob ducked his head, abashed. “No? I kind of just... found myself here,” he hedged.

Then there was a hand in his hair, tugging his head back. His grip was strong, and Hob winced. He met the King of Dreams’s eyes again and found the impression of very sharp teeth deep within them. The moment Hob presented as even somewhat of a real threat, he would find those teeth in his throat, he was sure.

He supposed he’d have to try not to be a real threat.

“Only living souls find themselves in the Dreaming,” said the King of Dreams, voice the rumbling growl of shifting ice. “Perhaps you would like to try for a different answer.”

“Alright, alright!” Hob relented, and the King's grip on his hair eased, just a smidge. “Alright. I escaped from Death.”

“Escaped,” repeated the King of Dreams. “From Death.”

“I swear,” said Hob. He would have raised his arms in surrender if they weren’t bound. “That’s the truth.”

“One cannot escape from Death’s grasp.”

"Guess I’m just really determined?”

The King's jaw clenched. “Very well. I will call her, then, and we shall see.”

Dread pitted Hob's stomach, but then the King of Dreams paused in thought, head tilting. He looked Hob up and down, calculating, cleverness spinning in those eyes.

“It takes quite a bit of skill to hide from me in my own realm,” he observed.

Hob didn't know what answer to this would prevent him getting chucked into the void, and for once in his life, wisely remained silent.

The King released him, and Hob swayed forward in the wake of his grip, nearly falling. “Walk with me,” he said, and turned and strode away across the throne room, leaving Hob scrambling to catch up.

He followed at the King’s side, just a step behind, as they turned into a side hall that seemed to unfold from nowhere as they walked. Hob looked at the man—being?—beside him. He was smaller than he seemed, slighter than Hob and almost delicate, but still Hob didn't fancy his chances in a fight. Not here, at the seat of his power. He'd be better off trying to wrestle the sun.

He just kept following.

“I have read the book of your life, Hob Gadling,” said the King of Dreams. It was said casually, like this was a usual occurrence, but a shiver ran up Hob’s spine nonetheless. Unnerving, to think his story was just accessible like that, and so easily summarized. “I did so as soon as my subject caught you to bring you before me. Your life was cut short by violence, but before that, it involved a rather interesting occupation.”

“I… suppose you could say so, my lord,” Hob agreed. The hall they strode down was infinitely long, lined by columns that let in streams of moonlight. Again, with the time of day shifting from room to room. Maybe this really was the land of dreams.

The King hummed. “Relations between the Dreaming and several other realms have been tense, of late,” he told Hob. “I would prefer to avoid war, but to do so requires inside knowledge that I am currently lacking.” He looked at Hob out of the corner of his eye. “For any man who could get me that information, perhaps making use of certain hidden talents—I could be persuaded to make an exception to my usual rule of sending stowaway souls back where they belong.”

Wait.

So Hob wasn’t going to be killed?

“You don’t—” his head was reeling— “you don’t already... have spies?”

The King sighed. “Dreams cannot leave the Dreaming. My ravens can, but they are known across the realms as my messengers, and I would not put them at such risk, besides.”

He did not have to say, I would easily put you at such risk, for it to be heard.

“I did, you know…” Hob said, though he wasn’t sure why he was arguing with salvation, “die in my role, you’re aware. I’m not sure you want a failed spy working for you.”

The King made a dismissive noise. “Your skills were solid. Your commanders were reckless and wasteful. Sending you scurrying back and forth like a courier and wasting your better expertise. The Kingdom of Dreams is not like the kingdoms of men. I do not wage war on petty whims, and I do not waste my resources.”

Something in Hob coiled tight at the thought of being a resource, a tool of this man. Or entity. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves, or anticipation.

“Before you answer,” continued the King, “it is only fair that you know the risks. The realms that span this universe are myriad, with a variety of dangers. While you would not die, you could be hurt, captured, tortured, imprisoned. Especially if your purpose were to be found out.

“Should you be caught—” the King studied Hob’s face, “you would be utterly disavowed. You are not one of my creations, and I would risk nothing for you, nor claim you; I would deny any association between you and the Dreaming. You may find yourself trapped eternally in Hell. Or somewhere worse.”

There was somewhere worse? Hob thought.

Still, perhaps it was the reckless brigand in him, but he hadn’t yet heard anything that made him want to pick death instead. If anything, it was all sounding like a rather grand adventure.

“What say you, Hob Gadling?” asked the King of Dreams, with a tiny smirk. He clearly didn’t think Hob was going to say yes. “How far will you go to avoid death? Would you be my spy? My agent in the dark?”

Hob thought it might be worth being trapped eternally in Hell just to see the surprise on the King’s face when he said, “Oh, hell yes.”

#so much of this exists in my head but i've made so little progress on actually writing it #hoping that by sharing some it will kickstart that process #spy au #spy hob #expect slow updates on this one sorry #i say as if all my fics arent slow updates #hob gadling #dream of the endless #dreamling #my writing #my god this has been waiting in the wings for an ETERNITY #technically most of this first chapter is already floating around on tumblr from when i first posted it for a prompt #the spy au and spy hob tags contain tons of visual inspo too btw

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