#nonbinary pyro

[ari-orangebox-collection]

I tried so hard, I did a lot, do you believe me?

[lovesickartgirls]

TF2 PYRO EDIT

Song is I/Me/Myself (2018 live in studio demo) - Will Wood

I love this song, and it fits so much with Pyro, so I made this edit.

This is the only place I might post this on, since my parents might find out and judge me.

Also, sorry if it sucks, it's only my second time making an edit. I still have a lot to learn.

Anyways, if you liked this, why not let me know by reblogging and liking this. Comments are very much appreciated. In fact, PLEASE DO.

Only if you want to though, I'm not forcing you.

Okay, bye

[a-fluffer-nutter]

The Mechanist's Quest: Chapter 2

A/N - I see Chapter 1 went well! Thank you all for giving it the love I had hoped for. This chapter is longer than the previous and will feature another one of our favorite support mercs: Spy. I based this chapter on a few headcanons and some art I have seen in the community. While I don't ship any of the mercs together (sans RedOktoberfest, that shit is canon let's be honest) I do love the parallels between Demo and Spy and would happily write a whole ass fic just exploring them with a similar dynamic I have here. Anyway, I'm rambling. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2,709

Days passed by and Pyro was starting to think this idea might be a bust. The two people they were trailing were the least sociable of the entire nine-man team, and for Pyro’s idea to work, they needed at least one other person to be around either Sniper or Spy. The two men were usually the first to hide away after a loss, not only because they wanted to be alone to sulk, but also to get away from Soldier.

Soldier always had critiques for those two, for everyone really, but he always seemed to really drill into those two whenever he could catch one of them. Sniper would just roll his eyes and walk off, hoping Soldier wouldn’t follow him like a dog begging for attention; while Spy would also try to ignore him, but when the losses stacked up, Spy would comment on how poor Soldier had been doing, which always ended up in an argument that would either be split up by someone else or Soldier suddenly appearing in the Respawn Room after Spy put a bullet between the American’s eyes.

Today was a good day, the midst of a winning streak for the team; the last three days they have been on fire, both figuratively and literally: Scout being the sacrifice to the BLU Pyro for each match. With the mood uplifted just a bit, the base buzzed with activity.

Whilst still not having luck with Sniper, Pyro lucked out with Spy being social that evening. After an hour in the smoking room, which Spy had just started expecting to see Pyro follow him in there at this point, Spy left to eat dinner with some of the others. Heavy made beef stroganoff, a favorite dish of Zhanna apparently, and a general favorite amongst the team, which could be shown by Engie being out of his workshop for more than two seconds to eat.

Pyro kept glancing at Engie, hoping to catch his eyes. Horrendous at distinguishing different forms of body language, Engie just smiled at the younger mercenary while trying to follow along with whatever Scout and Heavy were discussing. Acknowledging their loss, Pyro frowned and began to stare at Spy once again, as was the theme of the last week.

Once Pyro helped Soldier with the dishes, they quickly found Spy sitting on the couch, tired eyes attentively watching the movie he had just put on for himself. Despite being a man with refined tastes in film and drink, Soldier’s and Engie’s influences had rubbed off on Spy; thus, the man now had an interest and fondness for westerns. John Wayne would unironically grace the screen in front of the Frenchman more often than not anymore and nobody questioned it. Some of the films were inherently good and Spy did find amusement in the accent all the actors had. Having been exposed to Engie’s own southern drawl for as long as he had, Spy found that he could go through an entire film without mocking their ways of speech. If in a specific mood, Spy would go into the workshop after watching one of the movies and mimic the accent until Engie kicked him out; though the Texan had to admit that it was usually hilarious.

Plopping down into one of the armchairs next to the couch, Pyro tucked their legs up underneath them and watched along, occasionally glancing over at Spy to see his general reactions of the film. As John Wayne and James Stewart walked around on screen and monologued about sheriffs and Liberty Valance, Pyro imagined Sniper and Engie in all the scenes which made the movie much more enjoyable.

As John Wayne/Sniper rode his horse through town with a pistol in hand, the door into the room swung open and Demo stumbled into the room, bottle of Macallan in hand.

“There ye are,” Demo beamed, holding up the bottle as he closed the door, now no longer silhouetted by the outside light. Glancing up, Pyro could see Spy rolling his eyes but not give Demo the satisfaction of looking away from the screen. “Now c’mon, mate. Whatcha watchin’ one of these movies fer?”

Frown deepening, Spy bit the inside of his cheek to prevent him from saying something as Demo practically waltzed over to the couch and staggered onto the cushion next to Spy. Smile wide enough to brighten the room, Demo wrapped his arm around Spy’s shoulder and pulled him into a side hug, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder as he looked up at him; eyes wide with a playful curiosity that Spy was all too familiar with.

“No,” is all Spy said, feeling Demo’s tousled hair against his cheek, the black beanie he typically wore discarded long ago.

“I’ve nay said a single thing, mate. What’re ye saying nay to?” the man teased, sliding the hand from Spy’s shoulder down his back, eliciting a small shiver.

Amusement filled Pyro as they watched from their perch, with all interest on the film switching to the two men in front of them. They knew that Demo had a keen fascination with Spy, something to do with his stoicism or his ability to hold his liquor better than most of the men in the team. Pyro didn’t know what it was, but they sure enjoyed it whenever the two were together; the duo acting more like siblings than coworkers.

“We’re not watching it again,” huffed Spy, resenting his body as it slightly twitched beneath Demo’s touch, the offending hand finally meeting the hem of Spy’s jacket to find sanctuary between it and the white dress shirt.

“And why’s that?” Demo’s voice was sickeningly sweet, a cocktail with too much syrup and not enough gin.

“You know why,” hissed Spy, his tone darkening once he glanced back and noticed Pyro was still sitting there. Having made eye contact with him, Pyro quickly moved their head, so it looked like they had drawn their attention back to the movie, though through the mask, Pyro stared directly at the two men.

“I know yer just afraid,” Demo scoffed, his fingers gently scratching between Spy’s shoulder blades. “Aye. Ye know, I never took ye as one to be scared of a wee movie, mate. Ye acting like a wee laddie.”

“Am not,” Spy snapped, glad it was only Pyro in the room to watch this madness. Spy’s entire identity was professionalism, and he despised when he let others see that wall slip, even if it was just meaningless jesting from other merc. One on one, he was fine, but with Pyro here, Spy was glad he had the mask on, even in the darkness of the room.

“T’en why don’tcha wanna watch the movie with me?”

Spy knew this game well; a metaphorical standoff where they talk in circles until one of them give up. Just as a toddler would say “but why,” Demo was going to provoke Spy until he either left the room or replied with the desired answer. While Spy had avoided this phase with his own son as a toddler, he was cursed to endure it from the adult men he resided and worked with every day.

“I already told you,” Spy sighed, then let out a sharp gasp as Demo shifted around so he was wrapped around Spy. One leg hooked around his lower back and one around his waist, Demo leaned in, staring directly at the man with a devilish smile.

“An’ why’s that?” Demo emphasized the last ‘t,’ left hand sliding down Spy’s spine with a specific gentleness he reserved for only a few people, most of which he worked with.

“You know why,” the sternness of Spy’s voice was wavering, and in most other situations he would hate it.

“Do I now?”

Hand tugging at the tucked in dress shirt, Spy bit his lip to hold back the anticipatory anxiety from affecting his expression. Eyes staring at the screen, the character’s reflections shone off his blue-grey irises; though his ears were completely deaf to the words John Wayne was saying as he climbed his horse to ride off from one town to the next, just as Spy wished he could do in that very moment. Mind trying to focus on the movie, though the narrative lost at this point, all attempts to shift his concentration away from Demo’s calloused fingers grazing up his spine were being made.

“Mhm,” keeping his mouth closed, Spy nodded as his heart pounded.

“Use yer words.”

“Va te faire foutre.”

Pyro couldn’t help but laugh, absolutely loving the dialogue between the two.

            Demo looked up at Pyro with an eyebrow cocked up, then dropped his eyes back down to Spy.

            “Our wee firebug here seems to think yer funny,” Demo mused, his other hand dropping the bottle onto the floor with a thunk, both Pyro and Spy thankful that it had been empty this entire time. Hand now free, Demo used it to jab at Spy’s sternum in an accusatory fashion while the other hand drifted upward to finally still between the two shoulder blades, this time without anything blocking the skin-on-skin contact. “I have nae an idea what ye said, though I’m sure ye were being a proper prick. An’ ye know what that means?”

            “Enculé,” Spy replied, looking Demo right in the eyes as he did whilst wearing a wide, unamused smile.

            Biting down on their bottom lip, Pyro watched as Spy sealed his fate; throwing away the metaphorical key the moment Demo’s brows rose, lips twitching upward.

            “That one, I do know,” Demo leaned forward, lips nearly grazing the fabric of the balaclava.

            Biting back a strangled noise attempting to lurch out of his throat, Spy growled as he curled into himself; Demo’s frozen fingers now dethawed and gently scratching against the rarely touched skin. Breathing only out of his nose, Spy’s nostrils flared as he measured each inhale and exhale. Every neuron in his brain switched focus to just keeping his breathing even and his body under complete control, a statuesque stillness.

            Excited by the prospect of a challenge, Demo’s free hand that was unconsciously gripping Spy’s shoulder made the move that Spy had hoped it wouldn’t. Slipping beneath the mask, each fingertip grazed Spy’s neck delicately, as if petting a small animal. Thumb on one side of the neck and the other four fingers on the other, Demo felt Spy swallow, his palm resting against the older man’s throat. Every micro-quiver of the vocal cords could be felt and Demo relished in the power he now held.

            Knowing that Spy was an expert in resisting interrogation - his level of pain regulation and abilities to escape into his mind were exceptional - Demo also knew that Spy was allowing this engagement to occur as it was. If he had the slightest inclination to get away from Demo, Spy would have turned the tables faster than Demo could say “haggis,” with the younger man being pinned to the couch with a knife blade menacingly pressed against his throat. All actions here were calculated; all actions about to happen had full consent, and with it, Demo made his move.

            Giddily, Spy felt the dam inside him cracking. With most anyone else to have ever graced his presence, Spy would have sealed it back up with super glue and duct tape, but Demo was not just anyone, nor were any of the others on the team, really. But Demo; Spy liked Demo a lot. He never really knew what it was; perhaps it was the level of control Demo had over his craft, in and out of the field, or it was a form of pity, that whilst Spy and Demo did not lead lives too dissimilar, Spy sees what he could have been if he let the bottle take over his life like it did the younger Scotsman. Perhaps it was the good that Demo saw in everyone he met despite living through hell in his childhood and having to experience the horrors of a capitalist war over and over again every day because he feels that he has to. Either or, Spy had a certain indescribable fondness for Demo which allowed him to experience playful moments he rarely remembered having as a child.

            The second Demo’s dull nails arrived at their destination right behind Spy’s ear, the drawbridge lifted, and Spy’s laugh bubbled out from beneath.

            Hands around the only one of Demo’s wrists he could reach, Spy tipped his head back; his laugh low at first before switching to a higher register as Demo’s fingers quickened in both places. Smile wide, Spy still tried to hold his laughter back just a smidge. He knew what Demo wanted, and he wasn’t too keen on giving it to him. As his laugh switched between two pitches, Spy scrunched his eyes shut and forgot that Pyro was in the room, and to Pyro’s credit, they had been entirely silent for a while, awestruck by the adorable noises seeping from Spy, a melody that they had never heard before. 

            “Someone’s bein’ stubborn, now aren’t ye?” Demo teased, radiating pure delight. Spy simply replied with a shake of the head, arching his back as those five fingers were giving him the most trouble.

            Suddenly, as if bored of the positioning, Demo twisted them both around. Now on his back, Spy’s head laid against the arm of the couch as Demo’s larger body straddled his thighs. Devious grin adorned Demo’s face as he looked down at Spy, a cat satisfyingly looking down at its prey before delivering the killing bite.

            “Adorable,” Demo thought before unbuttoning the front of dress shirt, playfully pretending to struggle with one of them which earned him a soft chuckle. The moment the final button was undone, Demo attacked.

            “Merde!” Spy yelped, now fully laughing.

            Demo had slunk forward so his arms were tucked beneath Spy’s body, snaking their way back up the shirt to drag his nails all along Spy’s shoulder blades and upper spine. Once in position, Demo pressed his face into Spy’s belly, nuzzling and blowing short raspberries all over his abdomen.

            On top of Spy’s back being stupidly ticklish if caught off guard or permission is granted to touch the area, Demo’s facial hair was a straight up war crime, and the bastard knew it. As one of the resident hyperactive dumbasses, Demo used this knowledge for evil with a few of the mercs he was closest too. Soldier knew that getting into an argument with Demo could lead to a different kind of fight if the Scotsman was not in the mood or couldn’t use his words.

            Heels digging into the couch the best they could, Spy frantically grabbed Demo’s broad shoulders and pushed; his laughter now hysterical and between every other peal of laughter was a snort, much to Demo’s and Pyro’s delight and Spy’s own chagrin. It was adorable and Pyro could not wait to write down every little detail they were seeing.

            This activity may have been unusual to Pyro, but it was not too atypical for the duo. The movie he had been referring to earlier was Psycho and watching that movie with Spy was how he learned Spy was ticklish.

            While the two watched the movie, Scout having left early on because he hated movies “without color because they suck,” Demo was hyping up the infamous shower scene. Both men had seen the film before, so knew when it was going to happen, but Spy had not anticipated Demo pretending to backstab him, just as Spy would do in the field, while the scene played out. The startled yelp and faint smile were enough of a catalyst for Demo to explore further. Now, if Demo was ever lucky enough to catch Spy watching something, jokingly begging Spy to watch Psycho became his running joke and way of hinting to Spy that he wanted attention.

            Laughter clouded Spy’s thoughts and filled Demo’s ears as Pyro quietly got up, having got all the evidence they needed that their plan might work. Slinking out of the room, Pyro then scurried toward the offense wing to jot down all the notes they needed for their conversation with Engie tomorrow.

[conner-is-alive]

hot girl summer? i raise you: slut boy winter (pt 1)

Chapter: 20/20

Words: 10,734

Rating: Explicit

Warning: No Warnings Apply

Category: Multi

(tags below <3)

Relationships: Pyro/Scout, Medic/Sniper/Spy, Demoman/Spy, Scout/Soldier, Demoman/Soldier, Medic/Sniper, Heavy/Scout, Sniper/Spy, Engineer/Scout, Heavy/Medic, Scout/Sniper, Engineer/Spy, Soldier/Spy, Medic/Scout, Miss Pauling/Scout, Scout’s Mother/Spy

Characters: Pyro, Scout, Sniper, Demoman, Soldier, Engineer, Heavy, Medic, Spy, Miss Pauling, Scout’s Mother

Additional Tags: Smut, Trans Male Character, Oral Sex, Face-Sitting, Threesome - M/M/M, Anal Sex, Topping from the Bottom, Blow Jobs, Hair-pulling, Spanking, Uniform Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Rimming, Strip Tease, Size Kink, Size Difference, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Praise Kink, Riding, Mirror Sex, Body Worship, Orgasm Edging, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Older Man/Younger Man, Overstimulation, Creampie, Dacryphilia, Drunk Sex, Hand Jobs, Pegging, Femdom, Phone Sex, Trans Scout, Nonbinary Pyro, Top Medic, Bottom Sniper, Top Sniper, Bottom Spy, Top Soldier, Bottom Demoman, Top Heavy, Trans Sniper, Top Engineer, Bottom Medic, Porn What Plot/Porn Without Plot

[heya-moth]

A phone call/Secrets discovered

Son of Spy, Daughter of Scout, Chapter 2

Word Count; 1637

Hi hello! It's author Echo again with Chapter 2. It's another shorter one because its again another context/setup chapter because, idk. I'm going to be honest i don't have a lot planned for this fic except a uhm, a few things. So it's all going to be random but i promise i will make it make sense! Thank you for reading!!

Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!

August 23rd, 1968 1:05 PM New Mexico

The RED Team was winding down from a long long day of fighting Blu. They got ambushed at approximately; 3:45 AM and haven’t been able to rest until now.

Scout grabbed a Bonk out of the fridge and sat down right next to Demoman and Spy. With a sigh, he cracks open his can and takes a long sip before speaking.

“Boy, I sure am glad that is over…” Scout said, a grumbling agreement soon came from everyone else. It was pretty rough.

“Next time–” Spy starts, “--we will be the ones to have the jump on them”

“ja, absolut,” Medic replied with a grin “I’ll help plan the ambush”

“Get Pauling on it too,” Engineer hummed as he took a sip of his coffee “and you know where to go if ya need machines”

“Of course. But we also need to give a stealth lesson too–” Spy starts to motion to Scout, Demo, and Soldier.

Scout glares at Spy “I don’t need a stealth lesson!!! I’m plenty stealthy!!” he said with a pout and a scoff in his voice. He’s offended that Spy would assume he’d blow their cover

Spy rolls his eyes “Even if that was true–” “Hey!!--” “--everyone needs a refresher”

Scout flaps his hand like it was a mouth to mock Spy as he spoke.

Heavy shook his head. “Are they going to fight again?”

“Ja looks like it” Medic responds

A soft clicking of pumps against the hard tile flooring got closer and closer to the kitchen. Miss Pauling quietly opened the door and cleared her throat loudly, gaining the attention of most of the mercenaries.

“Scout, you have a phone call.” Miss Pauling said with a neutral tone, She’s just as exhausted as the Mercs as she was technically ambushed too

“Is it my Ma?” Scout perked up, immediately forgetting about Spy.

“No its a Miss,, uhm,” She looks at her clipboard to remember the name, “Sachiko Mina–” Scout jumps out of his seat and sprints down the hall to the phone, “--moto, huh” Miss Pauling looks surprised, he only does that if his mother called.

Spy’s eyes went wide with shock and nervousness, and Miss Pauling noticed. She looked him sternly in the eyes before pivoting on her heel and walking back to her office. Pyro turns and stares at Spy… silently

Scout runs to the Phone and  picks it up “Sachi?”

“Oh Jer! It’s so good to hear your voice again! How’s that factory job treating you?”

“Oh, you know how it is, all work and no play.” Scout chuckles softly “Anyways Chi, what's up? You never call unless it’s important.”

“Well…” Sachi starts “I’ve lost more of my sight, it cost me my job…”

“Oh, Chi–”

“Ah ah,” she silences him. “I have an offer to be a mostly remote editor for this publishing company in New Mexico. It pays a lot and it will only be for a few years–”

“You should move to my town then! It’s smaller and a little bit conservative but I know you and Lil Robbie will be safe” Jeremy cuts her off “I’ll even pay for the first few months of rent–”

“Awh Jeremy, you’re so sweet. There's no need to pay my rent~ Your mother bought my house and is going to take care of it for the next few years.”

A little brown-blonde-haired girl looked up at her mom. Thinking for a moment, she huffs and tags at her mother's skirt gently. She wants a turn on the phone 

“Cool Cool… I’ll find a house for you though, if that’s alright”

“Oh please do, I have no clue where to… oh, hold on” Sachiko giggles and picks up her little girl. “Here Robin” She handed her the phone.

Robin held the very much adult-sized phone up to her ear with both of her hands and grins

“Jeremy! I lost my first tooth! It’s my front one” The little girl chirps happily over the phone

“Woah what?? Robbie, that's amazing! How’d you lose it?”

“I got hit with a baseball!!” She said so happily “You should have seen it! There was blood all over my yellow dress!!”

Sachiko shakes her head as her daughter laughs and giggles. Robin is, well she's a mini Jeremy, and that slightly worries Sachiko. She doesn’t want her daughter to be bullied and/or ostracized just because she plays differently from the other little girls. She knows how it feels and she doesn’t want her child to go through the same.

“Mommy Jeremy wants to talk to you again” Robin pouts at her mother.

“It’s about adult stuff, baby girl. Go to the kitchen and get and pick out an apple, I’ll peel it for you” Sachiko coos and sets her daughter down before putting the receiver back up to her ear.

“Hey, Chi, I don't wanna come off as nosey but, how are you able to still be an editor?”

“It’s just my peripheral vision that I’m losing, luckily I’m still able to see, walk around, cook, read, and type” Sachi explains with a gentle tone, she’s not sad about her condition, not anymore at least. She’s at peace with it.

“Chi, you can’t drive anymore, can you?”

“No I can’t,” She says somberly

“I’ll find a place that's close to a bus stop for you”

“Thank you…” Sachiko hummed “I have to get going, it’s Robin's snack time”

“Okay Chi. I’ll call you later. Bye”

Miss Pauling looked up from her papers, she was there for most of the conversation. She sighs and neatly stacks her papers before asking.

“So, Who is Miss Minamoto?” She asked inquisitively

“Oh, she’s a family friend back from Boston.” Scout starts to explain with a grin. “She and her daughter are going to be moving into the town near base soon so I can help out! When I can, of course!” He said, his grin growing prouder after he finished his sentence.

“Wow…” Pauling paused for a moment. “That's sweet Scout,” she said with a light smile.

“Nah, it's the least I can do for her. Plus her kid loves me to death, I’m like her pseudo big brother” He chuckled “I’d be a really good dad you know~” he cooed while propping himself on the wall like a cool guy

Miss Pauling sighs and grumbles, for once she thought they were having a nice conversation, of course Scout has to attempt to flirt, again.

“Scout”

“Yeah, Miss P?”

“Get out”

August 23rd, 1968 11:25 PM New Mexico

Miss Pauling yawned to herself as she walked throughout the base, making her nightly rounds and checking to see if the mercs were here for the night, but she felt a looming presence like someone was watching her, hunting her. Unnerved, she starts making her way to Spy’s smoking room, the feeling only getting worse as she gets closer to the door. It kept growing and growing until something touched her shoulder. Freaked out Miss Pauling turns around and goes in for a punch. Pyro silently grabs her wrist and stares at her in their soulless mask.

“Oh Pyro–” Pauling sighs out of relief when she sees them, “It’s just you,”

Pyro stares at her blankly as they let go of her wrist

“Uhm are you going to see Spy too?”

Pyro nodded silently and gave her a thumbs-up

“Why?”

Pyro stares before signing to her ‘The same reason you are”

Pauling pursed her lips into an O shape before nodding. They walked the rest of the way together. Pauling knocked on the door lightly before opening the heavy wooden door

“Spy, we need to have a chat,” Miss Pauling says, stepping onto the plush carpeting. Pyro walks in behind her, tracking muddy boots in on said plush carpeting.

Spy sighs to himself and puts his book down before turning to the two with a very disgruntled face. He glares at Pyro and looks down at the floor, he scoffs and looks back up to make eye contact with Miss Pauling

“What for?” he said with a scowl and a grumble in his voice. He’s tired of dealing with buffoons like Pyro, he just wants to relax.

“You looked quite shocked to hear the name Sachiko Minamoto. Explain.” Miss Pauling said with a stern tone. She crosses her arms against her chest and continues the stern eye contact that she holds with the Spy. She’s read the documents, she's on friendly terms with Spy, and she knows that Spy is Scout’s dad. To be truthful, everyone knows, even Scout knows. He’s in denial about it.

“Hm, even with them?” he asked motioning to Pyro

Pyro silently stares at Spy with their, cold, dead, mask.

“They already know.”

“I see.” He clears his throat. “I met Miss Minamoto while I was on an espionage mission in Japan, nothing more, nothing less. Are we done here? It seems I need to clean my carpet again.”

Pyro stomps on the ground slinging mud more places while also getting it even more into the carpet.

Miss Pauling stifles a small giggle before speaking again.

“Yes, that’s all we needed to know, goodnight Spy.” Miss Pauling said with a smile before leaving with Pyro.

“Bonsoir.”

Pyro wasn’t fully convinced that there's nothing more to Spy’s past with this “Miss Minamoto” character, but they’re pretty tired themselves so there’s not much more they can/want to do.

The heavy oak door closed loudly leaving Spy alone in his room. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance

“Another piece of my past dares to haunt me yet again. I won’t let the guilt win. Not now, not never” He muttered to himself before going to clean the mud off of his carpet.

[flashingbands]

Next merc in my TF2 Space guardian AU! This time: Pyro!!!! I think Venus just gives off Pyro vibes, also Venus is the roman name for Aphrodite the goddesses of love and mother (kinda) of Eros a type of love! I decided to go with a hermathrodite kind of design for Pyro (Hermathrodite is the child of Hermes and Aphrodite, and is a intersex and androgynous icon!) Anyways I hope you like the desgin, and I think I forgot to put that this was a kind of modern AU in the last post so, yeah!

[fexjam]

[strawpage request]

i like them dead.

[sexypeople-contests-2025]

[rubiegubie]

non binary cave johnson also

shes so nb icon

[ari-orangebox-collection]

:(

[mochi-art-blogz]

NSFW Scout headcanons

Scout:

Granted, Scout has relatively limited knowledge of women/men and, therefore, would absolutely be an awkward guy in bed.

That being said, he's always going to be cocky (no pun intended) when it comes down to seducing his lover or hitting on them.

He definitely tries using old pickup lines, or something he saw in a porno, only for it not to work.

He's a rather vanilla kind of guy and only really changes it up every now and then if his partner asks him too.

However, he does enjoy fast, rough sex, so make of that what you will.

When he was first starting out, he couldn't last that long at all, but after a while, he managed to hold out just a bit longer.

He'll never admit it, but he enjoys it when you guide him through sex, ex: guiding his hands onto your chest, waist, thighs, etc.

He's into every part of your body, but he's really into anal and butt stuff (Exhibit A: Mannrobics voicelines)

Scout is VERY vocal during sex, and he's not the best dirty talker, but he tries. Moans and groans galore, and yes, he cries during it too if you two are going at it hard enough.

Prefers more basic positions, such as missionary, but also loves sex standing up. He really enjoys getting handsy.

After sex, Scout is of two minds about aftercare: sometimes he'll kiss you, cuddle you, and snuggle you while he praises you. The other time will have him drop dead asleep a few minutes after the both of you finish. There's no in between.

[a-fluffer-nutter]

The Mechanist's Quest: Chapter 1

A/N - Hi! Sorry for the general delay of all my writings. I'm doing my PhD proposal at the moment and that clearly takes priority lol. I have been having that TF2 brainrot and have a million ideas for fics. Since you all mentioned that y'all prefer larger fics to be reduced to small chapters, this one will be! If y'all end up hating the chapter set up, I'll go back to how I was writing fics.

This is a TF2 fic centered around Pyro being tasked by Engie to learn more about certain team members. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1,498

Pyro was on a mission; something difficult, albeit important. Granted, they had been assigned this mission as it was the Engineer who was really on a mission but was too busy in his workshop to complete this mission, thus Pyro was sent to complete it. Despite the convoluted complex confusion this caused in their brain, Pyro was still going to do whatever it took to get the job done. 

The mission: find a way to subdue the three support team members. 

Pyro did not need to subdue their own team members, of course not, that would be mean. However, they needed to get a good idea of different things that could affect them and cause them to do a poor job on the field. As the BLU Team were almost exact clones of everyone on the RED Team, shadowing the three men to find out how to make them tick couldn't be that difficult, at least not in Pyro’s mind. 

  For the last few weeks, the BLU Team had been kicking the absolute shit out of the RED Team, with most of their victories being the direct cause of one of the support members doing some crafty thinking and making power plays in the last few minutes of each round. Overall team morale was poor, with most of them dreading going out into the field each day just to think they might win, then be decimated at the very end. Not one to take losing well, Engie told the team he was going to develop a machine to change things up, assuring victory. However, he needed data, and he was not very good at this sort of data collection. 

     This is where Pyro came in. Pyro enjoyed spending time with people, with the team. They enjoyed learning about others, and unlike Engie in this situation, they were able to be subtle about it. That and with Pyro on the job, Engie was able to spend more time in his workshop sketching out various blueprints and fixing his current menagerie of sentries. 

      A few evenings after Engie gave Pyro their task, Pyro was walking back to their room for the night. The sun had set long ago and most of the other mercs were already in bed or at least hidden away in their rooms. Having spent a majority of the day with Spy, which meant they spent a majority of the day in the smoking room where the two of them lounged around and read all day, Pyro was exhausted.

It had been an abbreviated day in the field, with the RED Team’s defeat striking faster than normal; feeling almost as if the group had given up and accepted failure before they even arrived at the Badlands. Once the team returned to base, all nine of the men scattered, not looking at nor acknowledging any of the others. Except for Pyro.

Too mentally tired, Spy did not turn around and snap at Pyro when they heard them begin to follow him down the hall. At least, Spy had thought, Pyro wouldn’t try to be talkative. As he opened the door, Spy held it longer than normally, allowing the shorter pyrotechnics expert to walk under his arm and enter the room. Unceremoniously, Spy sat down in his chair with a huff, from both the mental toll of the losses and the physical toll they had on his body. Losses typically meant Spy had suffered; hard.

As he withdrew his pack of cigarettes, his grey eyes followed Pyro’s movements as they gazed up at the small library.

Mann Co. had supplied a fair number of books that catered to each mercs general interests and along with a couple books brought by some of the mercs, the team had gathered a small library, which grew every time Heavy or Soldier went out into town.

Gloved hand finally pausing on a particular novel, Pyro’s index finger pushed the book back into their grip. With almost a supernatural sense, Pyro spun around and quickly lit Spy’s cigarette before the man could withdraw the lighter from his pocket. Despite being startled by the action, Spy simply nodded and mouthed his appreciation as Pyro plopped down into the chair next to him.

While he wasn’t aware of Pyro’s mission, Spy was pleasantly surprised by Pyro’s companionship for the hours they spent reading. The plush chair beside Spy scarcely was occupied, and even more rare was the person sitting in it keeping quiet and actually reading. Sure, Heavy or Demo would occasionally make an appearance to read in the silence of the room, but more often than not, it was Scout or Medic that sat there, trying to push whatever narrative they had past Spy and earn his undivided attention. As such, a quiet evening beside Pyro was a gift.

Due to the general sense of peace, and a certain person’s gasmask, Spy did not notice nor visibly acknowledge Pyro’s occasionally staring. In their head, they had a list of extensive notes to write down later about Spy, though most of them had absolutely nothing to do with the mission. Apart from the chain smoking and the Ian Fleming novel in hand, Spy had given Pyro nothing to work with; so, once he rose from his chair with the notion of going back to his room, Pyro felt as if they may have just wasted hours with little data for Engie to work with.

Luck would favor our dear Pyro as while they were walking toward the exit of the support wing, a loud crash and yelp of exclamation emanated from behind the last door before the exit. Interest piqued, Pyro walked toward the Med Bay, figuring the doctor was still in there. 

 While each merc was given their own rooms, a few stayed unoccupied most of the year. Medic, Sniper, and Engie rarely used their own personal rooms; Sniper staying out in his campervan unless the outside temperature dropped below freezing, while Engie and Medic typically fell asleep while working on projects and paperwork. Pyro had walked into the workshop many times to see the engineer slumped over on his desk. Apart from the first few times they had caught him asleep, Pyro had gotten into the habit of gently picking the man up and placing him on the cot in the corner of the workshop that Soldier and Demo had been insistent on him having.

Door cracked open just a smidge, Pyro was able to peer into the room in search of the commotion. The room was dark, sans a single light in the corner, which was a bit unusual for Medic. Whenever Pyro would come in for an examine, the room was so bright it was headache inducing even through their goggles; so, the darkness was appreciated.

“Du musst aufhören!” the words were frantic, in a higher pitch than Pyro would normally hear Medic use when speaking his native tongue. “Heavy, dammit! Get off me! Nein!”

Silhouetted by the dim light, two figures sat atop the examination bed, intertwined as one. The smaller figure lay flat, limbs flailing with uncoordinated urgency. The larger figure sat atop the smaller, straddling them by the hips.

“Doktor needs his sleep,” the other person teased, voice gruffer yet tonally light. Pyro would recognize Heavy’s voice anywhere, even without Medic shouting his name earlier.

“No, I don’t,” Medic practically spat out as Heavy interjected the doctor’s words with his fingers. “Nein. Verdammt!”

While choking out his last words, Medic began to laugh, arching his back with his arms outstretched, weakly pushing at Heavy’s arms. Never able to form the words in any other language apart from his native tongue while being playfully attacked in this manner, Medic squeaked out a few threats in German, to which all fell upon deaf ears.

In the recent months, Heavy had been finding Medic falling asleep in the middle of an experiment more than once. Just like Engie, the doctor kept finding himself busy with all sorts of work. While most of the team had absolutely no idea what he was doing, or if it was even important as he kept saying it was, they mostly left him alone to do his work. Heavy, however, knew that he needed rest and that falling asleep while standing up and covered in shark intestines was not restful. After what felt like forever, Heavy finally found a method to get Medic to go to bed.

Pyro’s eyes lit up as they watched the scene play out in front of them, a giddy smile spread across their face underneath the mask. As they watched Heavy’s fingers glide across Medic’s belly, the cacophony of Medic’s hysterical laughter filled the room and their ears. Not only was this one of the cutest things Pyro had ever seen, but this gave them a brilliant idea. As the light bulb appeared above Pyro’s head, they scampered out of the room to head to bed.

Pyro had some planning to do.

[amonisweird]

Here are my tf2 lgbtq headcanons!

I’m still working on Engineer,Soldier and Demo’s headcanons but this is what I headcanon them for now:)

[trans-all-at-once-tournament]

Propaganda:

Nimona

-Shapeshifters are inherently trans.

-Started out as a whisp of red in the movie so no AGAB, so any gender is trans for them

-In the comic their parents accuse them of being a changling that replaced their "Real" Child, so there's some queer angst

-They spend the movie being told it would be "easier" if they were just a girl and pushing against that

-"And now you're a boy." "I am today."

-"But I'm not a girl. I'm a shark!"

-The creator is also trans and this story seems to be very dear to him

-Any sympathetic monster story is gonna be heavy with the queerness, especially this one where the trans allegory is woven throughout every bit of the story

Pyro

-What are they hiding under there? Not our business!

-There's a few times in the comic where they joke about Pyro possibly being a woman (one in particular where Soldier seemed to be calling them a woman but was talking about something else)

-I'm trans and obsessed with them

[theinverts]

POV: you wouldn’t let Pyro burn down your house

Back at it again with missfire

I just need more drawings of Miss Pauling being a badass!

Like common she’s sooooo cool!

I love the thought of Pauling being a femme but still really protective of Pyro (but I’ve seen some butch Pauling and it also looks immaculate)

Was feeling down when I first sketched this out but these gays always make me feel better