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the-teufort-nine · 6 months ago

Note

may i rq a scenario with any of the mercs where they find reader injured when respawn's down. maybe bc of an accident or an ambush. i like angst as long as its ok in the end

HOLY SAXTON HALE ANON THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME!

This isn't explicitly romantic, but you could definitely interpret it as being romantic if you want! You're def the team's fave <3

Anyways, enjoy about 8400 words of hurt/comfort goodness and the Blu team being pathetic lil meow meow when they think you're dead dead.

Mercs x GN!Reader | Respawn Malfunction

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ Hurt/Comfort | SFW | Cw: starvation, temp character death, excess drinking, animal death ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Featuring:

Everyone! Even Miss Pauling is here!

Scenario: During the last few moments of a match, Blu team's Respawn Machine suddenly malfunctions, with you inside! Left reeling by the loss of their Chemist, the team attempts to cope. A week later, Miss Pauling receives a most unexpected phone call...

There had been no warning.

If there had been, then the sharp eyes of RED and BLU’s Engineers would have certainly caught it. Unfortunately, the Respawn Machine had been just as reliable as ever for the entire match, bringing the mercenaries back from the great beyond time and time again, just as it had been designed to do.

Scout and Soldier had just been revived when it happened; the two men taking a moment to shake off the inevitable rush of nausea that came from going through the unholy machine. An Ubercharged Heavy had taken both them and their teammate, Y/N, known officially as the Chemist, out as the hulking giant made a final push to capture one of their points, and both BLU men knew it was only a matter of time before they heard the biting voice of the Administrator informing them of their failure.

Scout scuffed his sneaker against the concrete floor of the Respawn Room as Soldier launched into a furious rant, leaning against the wall as he waited for Y/N to come through, knowing that they'd been killed only a moment after him. He sighed when felt the gentle pulse of the machine as it vibrated like a speaker, getting ready to return his friend to the world of the living.

SKREEEEEECHHHH- BOOM!

A blast of hot air sent the two men crashing into the wall, stunning them momentarily. It was Soldier who regained his wits first, the BLU quickly pushing up his helmet and looking back at the source of the damage in shock and mounting horror.

“Aeughhhh… what da hell just happened?” Scout moaned, one of his hands rubbing against his throbbing forehead. He blinked, his blurred vision slowly clearing, and as he regained his sight, his eyes began to widen.

Respawn was on fire.

Flames licked hungrily at the walls as they spread out further from the Respawn Machine, with the contraption itself bathed in white and blue hues, the intense heat making quick work of what hadn't been destroyed in the explosion. Shards of complex metals and pools of gleaming Australium were littered all over the room, reflecting the light of the fire.

“HOLY CRAP!” Scout yelped, adrenaline coursing through his body as he attempted to scramble up off the floor.

His voice jolted Soldier out of his shocked state, and he shot a hand out to grab the back of Scout's shirt and yank him along as he made for the door.

“Emergency! Cease fighting immediately!” The Administrator's voice boomed out over the battlefield, the old woman's voice sounding more shocked than stern for once.

Scout finally found his footing as he pulled out of Soldier's grip, spinning around to stare at the encroaching flames. Fear roiled in his gut like an angry serpent as his disoriented mind finally allowed the reality of their situation to sink in. Respawn was gone.

Death was permanent once again.

“Private, this is no time to be standing around! We need to go!”

They could die. For real.

“Scout!”

If they'd come through only a moment earlier, they wouldn't have come back at all.

Wait…

“Solly, where's Chem?”

Soldier paused in his attempt to drag Scout down the hall, his gaze snapping back towards Respawn. He hadn't seen them when he'd grabbed Scout, too focused on getting away from the rapidly approaching fire, but he'd assumed that they were right behind him.

“They probably snuck past us! They're sneaky like that.” he replied. That had to be it! Otherwise that would mean they…

Scout looked down the hall, searching for any sign of the Chemist, before looking back towards Respawn, his face paling. He jerked forward, sprinting towards the blaze.

“Chem! Chem, hang on!” Scout yelled, reaching the doorway in only a few seconds, his eyes desperately searching for where his friend could possibly be.

The room was as empty as it had seemed before. There was no trace of the Chemist, alive or dead, to be found in the room.

They hadn't made it through.

“What in the Sam Hill is goin’ on here?!”

Scout wrenched himself away from the door as he heard his teammates gasp behind him. Engineer was up by his side in an instant, his mechanical hand gripping the doorframe so hard it cracked the material. He pushed his goggles up, and Scout could see real fear in the other's eyes.

“Vhat zhe hell happened? Zhe Respavn Machine vas fine only moments ago vhen I came through!” Medic said, pausing as he looked at Scout, who was trembling. Gently, the doctor led the young man away from the fire, “Scout? Are you alright? Vere you injured?”

“Chem’s gone.” was Scout's quiet reply.

“Vhat?”

“They was suppose’ta come through after me ‘n Solly, but Respawn went up in flames before they could come through.” the runner's voice was shaky and hollow, and he leaned more of his weight against Medic as his legs started to feel less dependable than usual, “They're gone. Like, gone gone.”

The gathered mercenaries went quiet, the only sounds being that of the crackling flames and Scout and Soldier's laboured breathing.

“DAMN IT!” Engineer bellowed, throwing his hard hat onto the ground, “GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”

Medic closed his eyes, bringing a gloved hand up to his face as a wave of grief crashed down on him. He'd been rather fond of their newest teammate, glad to have someone around who was as interested in risky experiments as he was. The Chemist had often taken up many of the smaller, more neglected duties around the base, such as cooking proper meals and making sure that Medic's less used medical supplies stayed topped up, in case of emergencies. They'd also been of great help in wrangling some of his more… problematic patients, using their charms (or stealth) to herd them into the Medbay for check ups or shots.

He watched them die every day, but this was different. This was permanent. The machine he and Engineer had worked so hard to build, the one that had allowed them to cheat death time and time again, had finally taken its pound of flesh. Y/N had been taken from them, from him, before he'd been ready to let them go.

Now, this usually wouldn't have been a problem; committing sins against both God and nature was something he did quite often and with great delight, and he was sure he could wrest Y/N back from the afterlife, provided that he had access to their body.

And therein lay the problem. There was no body. Respawn hadn't even spat them out half formed or thrown them into the flames, it had simply not reconstructed them. Whatever remained of the Chemist was likely nothing more than a partially formed mist of human remains that had burned up almost instantaneously.

The tenth class was no more, and there was nothing Medic could do.

“Aw, hell,” Engineer gritted out finally, looking back at his teammates with a tired, beatdown expression, “Christ, someone go ‘n track down a fire extinguisher. If we don't get this under control soon, we'll all end up dead.”

Seeing an opportunity to both flee the horrific scene and be useful, Scout ran off like a bat out of Hell, skidding around a corner and disappearing from sight. Soldier, who was being uncharacteristically quiet and still, made to follow him, but Engineer stopped him before he could take more than a few steps.

“Hold on, pardner. I need you to round everyone up and let ‘em know what- what happened.” the southerner swallowed hard, trying his best to push down his emotions for the time being, “The last thing we need right now is to lose someone else because someone did somthin’ stupid and got themselves killed.”

Soldier thought of how often Demo tested his equipment after their daily battles, especially after a loss, and stopped only long enough to give Engineer a salute before rushing off, determined not to lose any more teammates.

“Gott, vhat a mess.” Medic whispered hoarsely, mentally preparing himself for the utter shit show that was inevitably coming their way. The Chemist had been a friend to all of them, even to Spy, who pretended that he didn't care, and losing them was going to be hard on everyone.

Personal loss wasn't something the mercenaries were used to, lulled into a sense of security, of immortality, by the Respawn Machine. After all, why be afraid of death when you knew that you would be back in what felt like only an instant? None of them ever considered that Respawn might fail one day.

“C’mon, Doc. We can't stay here.” Engineer said, leading his co-worker-turned-friend away from the fire.

“Ack!”

You yelped as you tumbled face first out of Respawn, hitting the floor hard and fast. You hissed in pain, pushing yourself up and rubbing a hand over your aching face. Instinctively, you check over the various vials of chemicals you have strapped to your person, praying that your odd tumble hasn't resulted in anything breaking.

A sigh of relief passes your lips as you determine nothing to be out of place or wrecked. You pulled yourself to your feet, stretching and cracking your knuckles. Christ, the RED Heavy must have gotten you good that time, because you felt just awful. Exhaustion made you slouch slightly, and your stomach ached something fierce.

After bracing yourself for the inevitable screech of the Administrator's voice telling you that you had failed, you allowed your eyes to fall open, expecting to see Scout and Soldier's sour faces.

An unfamiliar room greeted you, wooden planks replacing the expected concrete. Dust lingered around the space, and your only company was a chittering raccoon, which startled and ran off upon seeing you.

What the fuck was going on?

“Hell-o?” you called, confusing coloring your tone, “Scout? Soldier? Anyone?”

Silence greeted you. Not even the sound of gunfire and shouting could be heard, only the sound of a fierce wind blowing outside.

Thoroughly confused and more than a little creeped out, you stepped out of Respawn, head constantly swiveling about as you called for your teammates. However, no matter how much you yelled, no one ever responded. No matter how much you searched, you couldn't find anyone. No matter how much you listened, not a soul could be heard.

“What the fuck. What the fuck.” you chanted, rubbing your arms. It was so cold here, and your outfit was designed for the New Mexico heat.

Your breaths came in steamy puffs, and you could feel goosebumps prickling along your arms as you made your way towards what you hoped was the Intel Room. Whatever it was that was going on, you were too tired and too sore to try and puzzle it out. If this was some kind of elaborate prank, you were going to kill whoever was responsible, because the last thing you wanted to deal with after such a rough day was this creepy bullshit.

Finally, after a solid hour of getting lost within this bizarre, wintery base, you managed to find the Intel Room. A phone, blue in colour, sat mounted on the wall only a few feet away. Wasting no time, you dialed the number Miss Pauling had given you to use if there was ever an emergency, or if Engineer and Medic started spending too much time together again. (The last time they'd gone unchecked for too long, the base had become overrun by something they called Spycrabs. It took weeks for you and your team to get rid of them, though you were fairly certain both Spy and Pyro had managed to hide one to keep as a pet.)

“Aperture Bakery, where the cake definitely isn't a lie! This is Tammy speaking, how can I help you?” an obviously fake cheery voice greeted you after only two rings, and you smiled slightly.

“Jesus, Pauling, I think that's your worst ‘wrong number’ persona yet.” you groused, no real venom in your voice.

“...Y/N?” Miss Pauling’s voice suddenly became very soft and disbelieving, something you'd never heard it do.

You frowned, your brow furrowing. “Yeah, that's me, last I checked. I thought you were supposed to call me Chemist, though?”

“Holy shit, you're alive?!” she shouted, the volume causing you to pull back slightly, “How are you alive?!”

“Uhhhhh,” you stammered, completely at a loss as to how you were supposed to respond, “I… I breathe? And eat? And sleep? Jeez, Pauling, I don't know what you want from me here.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, one that lasted so long, you began to worry Miss Pauling had hung up on you.

“Hello?” you tried.

“Oh! Shoot, sorry, I'm still here! I just-” there was a sound like papers being moved, “Chemist, what is the last thing you remember?”

“Losing the point and getting shot to pieces, why?” Was this a test? Had you already failed somehow?

“Right, yeah, okay that makes sense.” Miss Pauling took a deep breath, and you shifted uncomfortably, sensing that something was wrong.

“Chemist, Y/N, you've been declared dead for just over a week now.”

The phone slipped from your grasp, and it was only years worth of training and quick reflexes that kept it from smashing into the wall. You gripped the phone right, pressing it tightly into your ear as you spoke. “I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right, Miss Pauling. Would you mind repeating that?”

“You were dead, Chemist. Something happened to BLU’s Respawn Machine, and it was completely destroyed before you could come back. I- I don't know how or why it took so long for you to come back this time, but I'm so glad you did.”

You all but collapsed onto the wall, your free hand tangling itself in your hair. You'd died? Like, died for real? The thought made your stomach turn, and you had to suppress the urge to vomit.

“Pauling, Christ, I-” you swallowed, breathing in through your nose, “Is everyone else okay? Oh God, please tell me no one else… died.”

“No, no, no! Everyone's- well they're not fine, but they're all alive. The Administrator called for an emergency ceasefire the minute she saw what happened, and both teams got the message pretty quickly that something was wrong. The ceasefire is still in effect, since everyone needs to be relocated to one of the other base locations.” Miss Pauling replied.

You audibly sighed in relief, tension leaving your body as you uttered a soft ‘Oh, thank God.’ “I think that's where I ended up. One of the other bases, I mean. It's fucking freezing here, Pauly.”

“Shit, you're that far out?” Miss Pauling sucked in a breath through her teeth, “Okay, just- just stay put, alright? There's not going to be any supplies there, so just fine somewhere warm and try not to move too much. I'm going to come get you, okay?”

“Okay.” you replied, smiling slightly as you heard her immediately begin to gather various items on her desk, “Thank you, Miss Pauling. I know you're busy.”

“I'm never too busy for my mercenaries, especially when they manage to defy all logic and cheat death more than they usually do.” a warm, fuzzy feeling settled in your chest at her words, and it remained even after you hung up. There was something so viscerally pleasing about being wanted, about having someone care for you.

Worn out from your return to the living world, you peeled yourself away from the wall and wandered around the base a bit, before locating what had to be the common room. A couch and a few chairs were tucked in around an unlit fireplace. There wasn't anything around to burn, and you didn't feel up to going out to find something suitable, so you chose instead to simply curl up on the couch. Once you laid down, it was as if all of your strength left your body. The aches and pains that plagued you became more apparent, and your stomach growled and gurgled loudly. You were starving, but as Miss Pauling had said, there was no food at the base, and you certainly weren't going to be able to hunt any animals that might be scuttling around.

Resigning yourself to a fitful sleep and an empty stomach, you closed your eyes and pressed yourself in closer to the back of the couch, slowly drifting off into a light slumber.

The BLU base had never been so quiet. It was not a calm quiet, like one might find if they walked into a library, or in a room full of people simply enjoying each other's company while they entertained themselves, but rather a tense, unnatural quiet. A mercenary base with nine men living in it should have been full of noise and movement, but each member of the BLU team seemed more than happy to break away from the norm today.

Engineer was holed up in his workshop, pouring over blueprints, both new and old, determined to find some flaw, some imperfection, some failure, that could give him an answer as to why the Respawn Machine had gone up in flames. He needed to find the problem so that he could fix it. He couldn't leave things as they were; everyone, even the RED team, once they'd found out what had happened, felt unsafe going through any of the Respawn Machines, since no one knew what exactly had gone wrong.

Medic was working himself to exhaustion right alongside him, while also fretting over packing up his birds and equipment on such short notice. They weren't due to rotate out to another base for another month, but the accident had pushed the timeline up to a few days. What's more is that he needed to review the applications for a new Chemist, though he'd been putting that particular task off for as long as possible. He'd never once needed to replace a teammate, nor had he ever expected to. The process of both finding someone who was Respawn compatible and willing to fight and die everyday was an arduous one indeed, and Medic could feel a stress induced migraine begin to come on whenever he even glanced at the paperwork.

Heavy had been trying his best to help Medic prepare for the move, but he, like everyone else, was feeling the effects of their friend's sudden death. He kept expecting to hear their voice coming from the kitchen, or to see them waltz through a door with some manner of bubbling condition held in their arms. Often, he caught himself setting out the supplies for two sandviches, only realizing his mistake when he had plated the food.

Pyro had firmly planted themselves in the Chemist's room, taking special, delicate care to pack up their things into neat little boxes. When Medic had gently floated the idea of reusing their supplies for the next Chemist, Pyro had chased the doctor around the base with their fire axe. There were drawings of the two of them taped carefully to the wall, gifted to the Chemist by the resident firebug, and Pyro left them for last, wanting to keep pretending that they were simply packing up to move like the rest of them. When they'd nearly finished, Pyro noticed that the Chemist's uniforms, which had been folded up on their friend's bed, had mysteriously disappeared. They'd panicked for a moment, before the faint smell of cigarette smoke filtered through their mask.

Sure enough, the clothes were returned the following morning, freshly washed, dried, and without any wrinkles. Any and all holes or rips had been carefully hand stitched with expert precision. There was also a single rose lovingly tucked into one of the pockets on the outfit the Chemist wore most frequently.

Demo could often be found in the company of Soldier, sitting out on some roof or bridge, nursing his tenth or so bottle. Soldier didn't drink nearly as much, but when he inevitably did get drunk, only he and Demo knew about the few tears that would slip down his cheek. Neither acknowledged it, nor the sinking fear of having to inevitably go through Respawn again that sat like lead bullets in their guts.

Scout ran to ignore that same sense of fear and loss, to push it down into the deepest parts of himself. He ran from sunrise to sunset, pausing only when he absolutely needed to. Sometimes, when he would stop, panting and sweating and one small breeze away from toppling over, if he was in just the right spot at just the right time, he'd catch a glimpse of Sniper, tucked away on some far off cliffside or peering down from a tall, rickety building. The marksman hadn't been seen in the base proper since the accident, but he was always around somewhere, watching day and night to ensure nothing happened to his remaining teammates during the ceasefire.

So it was no wonder that it was him who first spotted a frantic looking Miss Pauling as she parked her scooter and dashed off towards one of the base entrances.

Curious, Sniper pushed himself up out of his hiding place, ignored the burning sensation that rippled through his taunt, stiff muscles, and started to make his way down to the base. He didn't make any attempt to soften his footsteps, but he also didn't call any attention to himself. The dark haired woman had been heading for Engineer's workshop, so that's where Sniper went.

Just before he could reach the door that led to the workshop, he collided with someone coming down the hall. He let out a quiet ‘oof’ and stumbled back, baring his teeth instinctively when he saw an expensive suit and steely blue eyes. He calmed, however, when he saw that this Spy was dressed in his team's colours

“Bushman.” came Spy's snide greeting. The Frenchman eyed Sniper up and down, “You look like shit.”

“I could say the same for you, mate.” Sniper sneered back, and he really could have.

There were heavy bags around Spy's eyes, and he smelled as though he'd been absolutely chewing through his expensive, imported cigarettes. Clearly, the man had been coping just as well as Sniper had.

“I'm shocked to see zhat you are no longer wallowing in your mobile hovel, or rolling around in zhe dirt, or whatever it is that you've been doing zhese days.” Spy raised a brow, “What has brought you back to zhis cheap imitation of civilization?”

Now, normally, this would be the point in their conversation where Sniper would tell Spy to not-so-kindly fuck off, but the Australian was running on coffee and will, and Spy was good at getting information. If Miss Pauling’s sudden appearance was supposed to be a secret, then Spy would be Sniper’s first choice for a partner in crime.

“Miss Pauling just showed up lookin’ real frazzled, and I want to know why. I didn't get any alerts or messages, did you?” Sniper asked.

Spy pursed his lips. “Non, I did not.”

Both men's gazes flicked towards the workshop door, and before either could contemplate if this was a good idea or not, Spy had cloaked and Sniper was pushing the door open slowly. A conversation came into earshot as the door opened silently.

“Engie! Thank God you're here!”

“Miss Pauling? What are you doin’ here?”

“There's no time, I need to borrow your truck!”

“Whu- mah truck? What for?”

“Listen, I need to get up North. Fast. And my scooter isn't going to cut it for this trip. Also, I think I might need that emergency dispenser you guys built a while back.”

Sniper's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. Miss Pauling did many things to people, but healing them wasn't something he'd ever heard of her doing.

“Well, now, see that there dispenser is still a prototype. It ain't ready for fieldwork yet- HEY!”

“Sorry Engie! Look, I promise I will bring the truck and the dispenser back, but I really need to get going! If this works, I'll bring back something that will make up for all of this.”

“And just what the hell would that be?!”

“Your Chemist!”

Sniper jolted, his body moving faster than his mind, which was still struggling to understand what he'd just heard. He gripped the guardrails that overlooked the lower floor, arriving just in time to see Miss Pauling putting the pedal to the metal and hauling ass out of the workshop in Engineer's truck. Engineer himself was standing stock still on the workshop floor, hand still raised mid gesture.

A set of hands suddenly grabbed Sniper by the shoulders and spun him around. Spy was staring at him, eyes alight in a way Sniper hadn't seen in a long time.

“Bushman, you can fit at least four people in your disgusting van, yes?” the man asked, squeezing harder when Sniper's mouth failed to make words come out, “Well?!”

“Eh- ur- yeah mate, that's right.” Sniper nodded finally, still reeling from the idea that Chemist might still be alive, “What's it to ya, Spook?”

“Gather up Soldier, Heavy, and Demo. I will take Medic, Scout, Pyro and Engineer in my car. We need to get going immediately if we want any chance of catching up to Miss Pauling!” he exclaimed.

Sniper's eyes widened as he understood what Spy was saying. The Frenchman wanted to follow Miss Pauling, to see their supposedly not dead teammate for himself, and he knew the rest of them well enough to know that if they didn't take them along, then the others would find their own way to them. That, or they'd simply destroy the base if left alone for too long, and Sniper was willing to bet that Spy didn't want to risk Pyro or Soldier destroying his precious suit collection.

‘Still,’ Sniper mused, ‘It’s nice to see that Spook cares about our feelings, even if it is mostly for ‘is benefit.’

“Right, I'll go round up the boys. You focus on snapp’n Engie outta his stupor, yeah?” Sniper agreed.

Spy nodded, and the two separated, with Sniper wasting no time in flying back down the hall. Obsessively stalking- er, observing everyone over the course of the week had granted him a decent understanding of where they chose to spend their time while in mourning.

Heavy and Medic were up first, and Sniper knew exactly where they'd be. With a swift kick, he burst into the Medbay, startling both the pair and all of the birds.

“Augh! Herr Sniper, vhat do you think you're doing, barging in here like-” Medic started, but Sniper cut him off.

“Can it, Doc! Pauling was just ‘ere, and she says Y/N is alive!” Sniper exclaimed. The other two men's eyes widened, and Medic almost dropped the glass beaker he was holding. “She sped off a moment ago, and we're gonna follow ‘er. Spy's taking you, Scooter, Engie and Py in ‘is car, while I'm takin’ the rest.”

The dynamic duo shook off their shock and nodded.

“Heavy will grab Soldier and Demolitions. Leetle Sniper will find Pyro in their room.” Heavy paused, then fixed Sniper with a stern look. “Be very careful how you tell news. Fire starter has… not been taking loss well. May attack, if they think you are playing joke.”

Sniper gulped quietly. “Think we should hold off on tellin’ them why we're really leaving?”

Medic shook his head quickly. “Nien. Zhough it is not alvays apparent, Pyro is quite intelligent. Lying to zhem about zhis will not end well for any of us.”

The marksman winced, remembering the feeling of fire blasting across his skin. “Too right. Okay, I'll handle Pyro, and Heavy’s gettin’ the drunk bastards. Hopefully they can sober up a bit, because I do not want those two sicking up in my van.”

Suddenly, a thought came to him.

“Oh, and bring yer Medigun. Miss Pauling mentioned something about need’n the emergency dispenser, but Engie didn't seem too confident that it would work.”

Medic's face crumpled up in distress. “And he shouldn't be! Zhat machine is just as likely to kill both zhe Chemist and Frauline Pauling as it is to heal zhem.”

“Shit.” Sniper swore, “We better be quick, then.”

The three men scattered, each one going in a different direction. Sniper hauled ass towards the barracks, eyes flicking to the different class symbols that marked each of the doors. He had only ever been here once, but picking out the little blue and yellow picture of a bubbling vial was easy enough.

He skidded to a stop before the door, taking a second to rap his knuckles against the wood before pushing the door open.

Pyro was where Heavy had said they would be, sitting on their friend's neatly made bed, their stuffed Balloonicorn clasped tightly in their grip as they rocked slightly. Pyro tilted their head at Sniper, communicating their confusion at the man's sudden appearance.

“C’mon, matchstick. We gotta get going right quick now.” Sniper panted, motioning for Pyro to follow, “Miss Pauling was just here, and she seems pretty damn convinced that our Chemist isn't as dead as we all thought.”

Pyro stilled on the bed, their masked face staring right into Sniper's soul. The Australian licked his chapped lips, feeling a sense of unease creep across the nape of his neck. After a moment of relative silence, Pyro seemed to find no deception in his words, and quickly leapt up, pausing only to grab their axe and holster it on their back.

“Huddah huddah huddah!” They yelled, voice muffled by the mask. A thick rubber glove suddenly gripped Sniper's vest, and the marksman found himself getting dragged along towards an exit.

Barely able to keep up with Pyro’s quick stride, Sniper stumbled a bit, all but crashing into the firebug when the large door before them slid open.

“Let's go, let's go, let's go!” Scout's voice carried across the desert base as the young man practically flew towards the workshop, clearly having been told the news, “Py, Snipes, let's friggin hustle! We got places to be, ya bunch a slowasses!”

“Piss off, ya bloody roadrunner! We're goin’ as fast as we can!” Sniper shot back, no real venom in his voice. He knew that Scout had been hit hard by the loss of their teammate, especially since he and Soldier had been the last ones to see them. The kid was more sensitive then the rest of them, especially when it came to someone he cared about dying

Scout slowed ever so slightly, just enough to grab ahold of Pyro's hand. The runner and the arsonist took off together to where Spy was waiting, and Sniper deviated off towards his van.

Heavy was already waiting for him when he arrived, the hulking giant holding both Soldier and Demo over his shoulders. The two had clearly had more to drink than usual, because neither of them were conscious. Sniper contemplated waking them for a moment; this was important after all, and he knew neither man would want to be left out of the loop.

And then he considered how completely insufferable the duo would be if they were awake, and he simply nodded towards the back of the van as he moved to sit in the driver's seat.

Heavy joined him a few moments later, and they were off, speeding down a dusty New Mexico road. Spy's expensive, gleaming vehicle was tearing down the same road as them, the light of the gradually setting sun bouncing off the well maintained blue paint job. He'd told Sniper the name once, while also threatening to gut the marksman if he so much as stepped near the vehicle, but Sniper couldn't be bothered to memorize it.

Sniper had thought that Spy wouldn't ever dare go as fast as he was now, what with all the potholes and tumbleweeds around that could potentially damage the Frenchman's precious ride, but perhaps he'd underestimated how much losing the Chemist had weighed on their most elusive teammate. Spy, for all his aloofness, did occasionally let slip the fact that he actually liked his teammates. Sometimes. Rarely. And usually in some strange, hard to interpret way.

He saw Scout's head pop out of one of the backseat windows, and the lad raised a hand to shield his eyes, like he was trying to see something in the distance. He must have spotted something other than desert, because he pointed towards an upcoming side road before popping back inside.

Sure enough, the car skidded around the corner, and Sniper followed, squinting his own eyes in an attempt to see what Scout had been pointing at.

Tire tracks marred the road, ones that hadn't been caused by Spy's quick turn, but that were also very recent. Sniper grinned and pressed harder on the gas, accelerating until he was only a few feet behind the other vehicle.

He'd never had a target escape before, and Miss Pauling wasn't about to make him break that streak.

Cold.

You were so cold.

You'd awoken to the sound of your teeth chattering, the sound only made worse when another wave of ripples inevitably wracked your prone form. Each breath came as a gasping wheeze, catching on the film of phlegm that had made a home in your throat and chest. Your stomach felt almost alive in your guts, spitting acid on your sensitive middle as it growled and snarled and roared for food that you couldn't give it.

You tried to get up, but your body began to shake and wobble dangerously as you began putting pressure on your forearm. Apparently, all your energy had been diverted to shivering in a, perhaps futile, attempt to keep your internal organs from freezing over. Breathing out a puff of warm air, you slid your hands over your chest and stomach, eyes widening as you realized that something was deeply, deeply wrong.

Gone was your well earned muscles and insulating body fat. You felt dangerously thin, like a starved greyhound. Whatever dark magic and science pulled you back from death had seemingly lost most of your fat and muscle reserves in the process. Truly, it was a miracle that you'd been able to walk at all!

You were in a bad spot, and you weren't sure Respawn would be able to save you again, should the worst happen. After all, no merc had ever starved to death before, and you had no idea what would happen if you did.

‘That’s not going to happen.’ You tried to reassure yourself, ‘Pauling will come to get me.’

How long had you been asleep? It hadn't felt like long, but there were no windows in this common room, and it wasn't as though you could rely on your stomach to tell you that a great deal of time had passed.

With little else to do, you lay your head back down on the cold couch cushions, attempting to curl up closer to the plush, velvety fabric. You tucked your arms into your armpits and folded your knees up close to your chest as you shivered once again. You'd lost feeling in your toes and fingers, but you could still, with great difficulty, wiggle them, which you counted as a win. Your eyes slipped shut as you turned your face down towards your chest, nose buried in the fabric of your uniform in a desperate attempt to seek out any scrap of warmth.

Sleep came easy enough, but it was far from a peaceful rest. Nightmares of endless darkness and being reborn wrong plagued your mind. You woke frequently, but exhaustion dragged you back into unconsciousness just as quickly. Each time you awoke, you were reminded of just how hungry you were, and the urge to gnaw at your own dangerously thin arms grew in intensity. Thirst plagued you as well, and each time your failing mind allowed it, you licked desperately at the inside of your mouth, trying to acquire some moisture for your sandpaper-esque throat.

On your next return to the waking world, as you stared out towards the door that led to the hallway, contemplating drinking one of your fatal mixtures, if only to end your suffering and quicken your return to Respawn, a sound echoed out into the lonely building. You lifted your head, blearily squinting towards the door. Had that been real? Or simply an illusion, a trick crafted by your starved brain?

“Chem? Chem, can you hear me?!”

Miss Pauling.

She did come for you!

You grinned, the action pulling at your chapped lips. You tried to call out, but all you managed was a slight cough. Huffing, you flopped your head back down, eyes locked on the door. You knew that she knew where the phone was in this place; there was no way someone like Miss Pauling didn’t know the ins and outs of every place her mercs set up shop in, so it was only a matter of time before she found you.

Sure enough, after a few minutes passed you began to hear footsteps pounding down the hall. It wasn’t the heavy, familiar footfalls of your team, but rather a lighter, quieter sound. A blurry purple figure entered your field of vision, and after your eyes finally focused, you saw a disheveled, red-cheeked Miss Pauling standing before you.

“Hey there, stranger.” You rasped, wincing slightly when you felt hands suddenly cup your cheeks. Pauling’s hands were warm and slightly calloused, and you blinked slowly, leaning into her touch.

“Jesus Christ, Chem. You never do anything by halves, huh?” Pauling laughed, though the noise came out more like a sob.

“Can't. I wouldn't be a very good Chemist if I did, right?” You joked softly, your eyelids drooping slowly as you began to relax, “Things’d be spillin’ all over the place.”

“Woah, hey!” A series of quick, rapid taps against your cheeks made you open your eyes again, “Stay awake, okay? You're in rough shape, but I brought- well, stole but that's really not important- Engie's truck and his little mini dispenser thing-”

“You stole Engie’s truck?” You interrupted, voice tinged with a sense of horrified awe, “He's gonna kill you.”

The raven haired woman gave you a half smile as she reached an arm under you, pulling you up to your feet to stand beside her. Your vision swam, and you had to lean heavily into her.

“I think bringing you back will soften him up a bit.” She said, looping your arm around her shoulders, “Come on, let's get you to the truck. You look like you're about to pass out.”

“I might.” You admitted. “Got anything to eat? I'm starving.”

Miss Pauling glanced over your emaciated form. “That… actually might be the case. When Respawn brings someone back, it usually leaves them feeling a little bit drained, and it's why you're all so hungry at the end of a battle. Respawning takes energy, and I'd say this last trip took almost all of yours. It ate right through your fat and muscle reserves!”

“Ah,” You replied, “I was afraid that might be the case. What happens if I Respawn again?”

“It's… it's probably best if we don't test that out.”

The two of you walked through the base in silence after that, with you leaning heavily on Miss Pauling for support. She didn't seem to mind, however; though you often caught her casting worried glances at you. You felt the temperature in the air steadily drop as you reached the entrance to the base, yet you were still caught off guard when a chilly blast of wintry air smacked you in the face. Snow swirled all around you, coating the base and battlefield in white. The first rays of an early morning sunrise were just starting to peak over the horizon, giving you enough light to see by.

In the distance, you could see Engie's truck, the blue vehicle standing out amidst the white. However, something seemed… off about the truck. You squinted, trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Hey P, did you bring a… a dog with you?” You mumbled, tilting your head at the canine shape that stood in the headlights.

“What?” Miss Pauling looked confused for a moment, before she, too, saw the creature. “What is… uh oh.”

“Uh oh? Why uh oh?” You questioned, before taking a closer look at the dog, which was now slowly moving towards the two of you.

Oh.

Uh oh indeed.

It wasn't a dog.

It was a wolf.

The beast was huge, with a thick, ungroomed black coat and amber eyes that glowed a bright, golden color in the early morning. It growled as it approached, and you could see saliva frothing at its mouth.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” You balked, stumbling as Miss Pauling pulled you both back, “A rabid wolf. Why not!”

“How did it even contract rabies all the way out here?!” Miss Pauling yelped, quickly drawing her pistol. You eyed the small gun, wondering if she could aim well enough to shoot the hulking animal with your dead weight hanging off her.

Left with no other options, you weakly pawed at your coat, trying to locate something that could help you fight off the rabid beast. You had all the ingredients needed to make something truly dangerous, but if you tried to mix them now, you'd just as likely make something that would kill you before the wolf could.

Grabbing something that would at least blind the animal, you braced yourself as best you could, ready to try and help Miss Pauling fight.

“INCOMING!”

You, Miss Pauling, and the wolf all turned your heads as one, eyes widening when Sniper's van suddenly emerged from the snowstorm like the chariot of an angry Australian god. The vehicle slammed into the wolf, sending it flying out of sight. A few seconds later, an expensive looking car skidded to a stop a few feet away, one of the back doors opening before the car could even fully stop.

Scout came barreling out first, slipping on the snow and ice as he tried to regain his balance. Sniper, Heavy, and Spy followed suit, with the other's appearing behind them. They all looked absolutely horrendous; their eye bags had eye bags, Soldier and Sniper clearly needed to shave, and none of them were even remotely dressed for the cold weather of the north.

But they had never looked better to you.

Scout spotted you first, and you hardly had time to blink before the Bostonian was upon you, yanking you out of Miss Pauling's hold and into his arms.

“You're alive! Holy crap you're alive!” Scout cried, spinning you around and pressing his face into your shoulder.

Pyro joined you next, the arsonist all but smothering both you and Scout as they sobbed. You patted their back, leaning into their warm suit, attempting to leech their abundant body heat.

Before you could get a word out, a fierce yell startled you into a defensive stance. Suddenly, you were being held up by your armpits and being shook like a maraca.

“DO NOT PULL SUCH A STUNT AGAIN, MAGGOT!” Soldier yelled angrily, but you caught a glimpse of wet eyes under his helmet, “IF YOU DIE LIKE THAT AGAIN I WILL PERSONALLY RIP YOUR YELLOW-BELLIED SOUL RIGHT OUT OF HELL!”

“Sol, put them down, consarnit!” Engineer chided, smacking Soldier in the side. Once the helmeted man set you back down onto the ground, Engineer pulled you into a warm, firm hug, his flesh hand coming to rest on the back of your neck.

“Hey Engie.” You murmured softly, “Don’t be mad at Miss P, okay?”

“Buddy, ah’m gonna be treatin’ her to a steak dinner after this.” he chuckled, before gently passing you over to someone else, “Here, Demo. Be careful with ‘em. They ain’t lookin’ too good right now.”

“Aye, ya look like shite, dont’cha?” Demo laughed softly, gently ruffling your hair before pulling you into a hug, tucking you under his chin. “Ah, I’m glad yer alright. Ye gave us a right scare, ya wee bastard!”

“Sorry.” You chuckled, leaning into his chest. Demo patted your shoulder, before you were released and spun around to see Medic, Heavy, Spy and Sniper. While Heavy lifted you up into one arm, Miss Pauline began questioning how the mercenaries had found out where you and her were.

Medic descended upon you like a mother hen, fretting about the poor state you were in while simultaneously raving about the unexplored limits of the Respawn Machines. He plucked a few tablets out of a bottle in one of his coat pockets, instructing you to swallow, not chew them as Sniper handed you a well worn thermos. It was warm, and when you opened the lid, the smell of coffee hit your nose. A quick sip revealed that it was made just how you liked, which made you smile, because it meant that the usually unsociable marksman had gone out of his way to make the drink specifically for you.

“Here, mon ami,” Spy strode forward, a blanket draped over his arm. He wrapped it around your shoulders gently, tucking it in tightly, almost like your parents would do for you when you were small, “this should warm you up a bit.”

The tenderness of your usually tough, rowdy teammates made you sniffle, and you snuggled in closer to Heavy, clutching your thermos.

“I love you guys.” You said, your voice wavering with emotion, rather than cold this time, “Seriously. I- there isn’t a better team out there.”

Your praise made the gathered men puff up slightly. It was clear your opinion mattered a great deal to them.

“Hell yeah! We’re da’ freakin’ best!” Scout shouted.

“Leetle Chemist is included in that.” Heavy added, and you blushed slightly.

“Heavy is right, mein Chemiker.” Medic agreed, “Jou have cheated Death more zhen anyone else before jou! It is truly amazing!”

“I don’t feel amazing.” You said, quickly sipping the offered coffee.

“Vell, you are severely malnutritioned, so I am not surprised.” Medic replied. “Ah, don’t drink zhat so fast. Jou’ll just zhrow it back up.”

Once the word ‘malnutritioned’ passed the doctor’s lips, you could practically hear Engineer’s ears perk up. You were sure many home cooked meals with Engie in his workshop were in your future.

“Come on, mate, let’s get em’ outta the cold, yeah?” Sniper suggested to Heavy, gesturing towards his van. Spy snorted.

“Please, you want to have our dear Chemist rest in zhat thing? The last thing zhey need is to be surrounded by piss and crocodile jerky.” he snarked, which drew a disgruntled sneer from Sniper.

“Oi! My van is perfectly clean, and its leagues bettah than your dinky lil’ car! You just wanna hog all their attention ‘cause you’re a needy, selfish buggah!” Sniper shot back.

Heavy sighed deeply as the two men started arguing, before looking down at you.

“Heavy thinks it would be best for leetle Chemist to ride with Engineer in his truck for now. Team is very excited you are alive, and this makes them act-” the two of you winced as Soldier started yelling again, “more like loud idiots than usual, да?”

“At this point, big guy, I’d welcome the noise.” You admitted, “It was… quiet here. And lonely.”

Heavy looked at you with a saddened expression. “How long were you alone for?”

“A… a day, I think. It was hard to tell, since there were no windows.” You glanced over in the direction the wolf had been flung. “Honestly, that might have been for the best, considering what was waiting out here for me and Miss Pauling when we finally got outside.”

“Was wolf, yes? Heavy could not see very well, but it looked like wolf.” The heavy weapons expert said as he started off towards Engineer’s truck.

“Yeah, it was a wolf. A rabid one. You guys showed up just in time. I was afraid it would get close enough to bite us.” You shivered, pulling your blanket in closer.

“Miss Pauling would not have allowed that. She is small woman, yes, but very fierce.” Heavy paused for a moment, looked over at Scout and Soldier, who were talking to Miss Pauling, then leaned in to whisper: “She is better shot than some of the team. Do not tell them I said this.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.” You winked as Heavy gently set you down in the passenger seat, careful not to jostle you. The seat was still warm from the heater, and you relished in it, almost not even noticing when Engineer slipped into the driver’s seat next to you.

“Buckle up, darl’.” He grinned, reaching to pull the seat belt over your chest.

“Thanks, Engie.” You returned his smile and lay back, resting your head against your seat belt.

As you got comfortable, you noticed that the truck had an extra few passengers. Pyro waved to you from the back as both Soldier and Scout climbed up into the bed. Both men looked visibly cold, but they stubbornly plonked themselves down, dead set on staying near you. Just in case.

Spy and Sniper finally stopped squabbling when they realized that you were no longer around to fight over, and both slunk back to their respective vehicles as Engineer started up his truck. Miss Pauling and Medic followed Spy, while Demo and Heavy trailed after Sniper. Knowing your team, there would be another fight the second you all stopped for gas or food, likely over who you should sit with for the rest of the drive back. Honestly, it was like being back in school, surrounded by a friend group of mentally ill lunatics who fought like spoiled dogs for your attention.

You wouldn’t change a thing. You were, after all, just as needy and clingy as the rest of them, and you knew you’d be even more desperate to be near someone all the time, afraid to be back in that horrid silence.

How wonderful for you, then, that you had 8 men, 1 woman, and 1 Pyro who would be more than happy to indulge you.

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scoutsbabygirl · 1 year ago

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literally an audio of the reader/listener being railed by ALL OF THE MERCS

the scout voice actor does the accent PERFECTLY. there's another one too i can link if anyone's interested. shoutout to all the va's in this, was frickin' awesome!

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habitabel · 1 year ago

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❗❗❗THIS ISNT HAPPENING ANYMORE IT ALL WENT TO SHIT❗❗❗

GUYS GUYS GUYS

what do I do with myself rn I'm tweaking out I'm gonna rip my skin off what THIS IS EVERYTHING TO ME

Edit❗❗❗ for more info, I have links to the discord, Twitter, and the official team lovetress website on my page! It's pinned at the top <3 the discord requires you to share a picture of your ID because I guess the game might have nsfw themes or maybe the discord does?? Not too sure but yeah just a warning!! Also, it's been brought to my attention that cabbage (the artist shown here) has stepped away from this project!! I'll share the tweet from cabbage here v

(ily @ncalabby )

#tf2 heavy #sniper tf2 #tf2 #tf2 demoman #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #team fortress 2 #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 fanart #team fortress soldier #tf2 soldier #soldier tf2

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awkward-writes-shit · 8 months ago

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Mercenaries x Reader on Laughing Gas who calls them handsome

In this order; Heavy, Medic, Spy, Sniper, Scout, Demoman, Engineer, Soldier, Pyro

Heavy

“You’re handsome…”

The man was too stunned to speak. Medic told him you were going to be real honest when under laughing gas, but he wants expecting THIS.

He finds you adorable like this. You’re absolutely smaller than him (Unless you’re a tall queen/ruler/king, in which we stan * finger snaps *) and carries you around until you’re able to think straight again.

10/10.

Medic

He puts you under just for fun because he finds you cute like this, so he’s gotten used to your loopy speech

“You’re handsome…” “Danke Taube.”

Still makes him giddy every time you compliment him though. Watches you stumble around the room like a toddler.

7/10

Spy

”You’re handsome…”

He knows. He appreciates it, but he knows.

“Merci. You’re a mess…”

Finds your loopy behaviour cute and slightly entertaining. Wouldn’t actively go out of his way to help you, but will keep an eye on you so you don’t end up killing yourself.

6/10

Sniper

“You’re handsome…”

He’s flustered immediately, does the awkward pulling hat down to cover the blush move.

“Thanks Sheila…”

Probably gonna get baby locked in his van due to him not wanting you to get hurt, but also having no idea how to care for you.

8/10

Scout

“You’re handsome…”

Stop inflating his ego, you’ve doomed the others for the next hour.

“YA’ HEAR THAT BUSH MAN?! MA GIRL THINKS I’M HANDSOME”

Bro probably puts you on one of those weird monkey leashes that you put bad kids on (Couldn’t be me…) and just watches you with so much entertainment.

8/10

Demoman

“You’re handsome…”

Dude’s drunk 24/7 so you’re basically the same person at this point.

“No, YER handsome… Beautiful… Pretty… Yeah…”

He’s constantly taking care of his mom, so you’re in good hands. No sharp objects, no fire, no Pyro, absolutely no Pyro, you’re safe.

10/10

Engineer

“You’re handsome…”

So much blush on that poor Texas man’s face.

“Aw… Thanks sweet pea… How ya’ feelin’?”

We stan a man who’s concerned about you. Keeps you in his workshop while he works. More than willing to explain to you what he’s doing like you’re 5.

10/10

Soldier

“You’re handsome…”

He’s a really loud person so everyone is going to know that you called him handsome.

“OF COURSE I’M HANDSOME! I AM THE GREATEST AMERICAN ON EARTH!”

Dude would have no idea what to do with you. Heavy just ends up taking care of you.

2/10

Pyro

“You’re handsome…”

‘Happy Pyro noises’

Definitely not the best at taking care of people, but in you’re loopy state, he’s amazing.

Y’all are absolutely gonna do stuff like colouring, playing with his unicorns, and absolutely cuddling.

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willreigns · 28 days ago

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Soft!Levi after an expedition. Gender neutral scout!reader. Light (?) suggestiveness. ~800 words.

It’s too early to think.

The sky was still in that in-between state, a mixture of dark purples, lightening to murky blues.

You shuffle, in the in-between state yourself; in between sleep and alertness. You wonder briefly if your boyfriend found himself in the in-between.

His tightening arms around you tell you otherwise.

Of course. Levi feigns rest for your sake, but he doesn’t really.

The heat of his embrace is suffocating, but you can’t will yourself to pull away.

Your bones were spent, muscles tight with exhaustion—coming back from a month-long expedition does that to you. And so, you refrain from pulling away from Levi. He takes advantage of your acquiescent state and nuzzles closer, face in the crook of your neck.

You still smelled fresh like soap, having scrubbed hours to get the blood and dirt off you. Both of you considered the first night back from these missions as sacred, and tainting the bed with anything dirty felt wrong.

Mind you, there were other ways you did commit sacrilege on this very bed, but that was besides the point.

“Sleep.”

The lowness of his voice penetrates the silence of his quarters and he shuffles closer into you. He could never get enough of you—and early mornings after expeditions made him insatiably needy.

It would be a matter of hours before he returned to “normal”. Back to pretending that he didn’t crave your touch every single goddamn minute of the goddamn day.

In between the suffocation of his embrace and the love you had for him, you found yourself grateful for another one of these mornings with Levi. Even if it was too hot, you’d rather be here than…whatever comes after death. It didn’t matter—you’d be gone and buried, or more likely left out in a plain to rot, but it was Levi you worried about.

He’s loved too much—lost too much—to have to face it all again.

Levi has his leg in between your own, and when he senses you aren’t abiding to his order of rest, does he finally let out a deep exhale before pressing his eager lips to your neck.

“Needy,” you reply breathily, “so goddamn needy.”

“For you, yeah,” he replies with the same air of breathlessness. Yes, Levi foregoing embarrassment was also a sanctity the first mornings back, one that got your ears buzzing each and every time.

You make a move to leave the comfort of his bed, but his fingers wrap around your wrist and pull.

“Where are you going?” And he begins his assault on your neck.

“Hmm, we got reports to do,” you say quietly, but the trail of open-mouthed kisses continues, “I’m spent as it is, I’d rather get it done while I still have the will to do so.”

Levi only hums in response, before his kisses cease and his head tucks back into the space between your head and the pillow.

“Eyebrows gave us the day off.”

“Uh, no. He gave you the day off.”

Levi lets out a deep sigh, chest visibly rising and falling.

“He already knows about us,” Levi’s hand searches for yours, lips trying to place a kiss on the back of your hand. A teasing sort of grin tugs at your lips.

“Oh does he now—and what are we?”

He finally pulls away from your warmth, eyes squinting in a half-hearted glare.

“Shut up.”

You break into a breathless sort of laughter, before he’s pressing a kiss on your lips, effectively making your brain scatter for a moment.

“You haven’t told me that conversation yet,” you voice when he pulls away, “I am but a curious mind.” Levi rolls his eyes.

“It’s enough that he knows. Now stay in bed with me.” He says this while pinning you beneath him, back into the stuffiness of his body—you couldn’t find it in you to mind.

You smirk at him, wanting to continue the banter, but deciding against it. Levi’s eyes are dark, needy for something more than just an early morning embrace.

Right. On mornings like these, Levi got needy for that too.

“Fine,” you respond with mock surrender, “but you’re doing all the work.”

Levi shoves one of his pillows on top of your head.

—

“What are you looking at four-eyes?”

Hange smirks at the raven-haired captain, eyes hidden behind glasses that are gleaming with mischief.

“There’s a purple mark on the side of your neck—no, no—stay shorty! It’s shaped like a titan—let me sketch it!”

“Fuck off four-eyes.”

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi x scout!reader #levi x reader comfort #needy levi #soft levi #was in the mood for some comfort levi #also i’m back from the very brief break i took #your girl passed her classes ^~^#more levi fics coming soon

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supernova41st · 1 month ago

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Scout getting horny for everything

Scout x Reader (Headcanons)

Warnings: Smvt with no s€x, Female Reader, Mentions of lingerie bras/magazines, and perfume stealing (MINOR WRITING SMVT, DNI IF YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE!)

Divider by @uzmacchiato

Scout couldn’t keep his eyes off of you since you two began hanging out. He had the mind of a teenage boy and a dog in heat, especially when he saw your bra strap when you wore a tank top at his house. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your bra, it looked almost exactly like the Victoria Secret catalogue that he kept under his bed. He accidentally slipped out that he noticed it when he was blabbering on about god knows what.

“—Anyways, I can see that bra is doin’ some work on ya”

“??”

..yes, he did regret saying it.

When you invited him to your bedroom for the first time he went into straight panic mode! He had never been in a bedroom of a girl he liked and wanted to fuck. The smell of your room alone got him horned up, he did a fair job at hiding it.. that is until you left the room. He immediately went on a little hunt for anything that could’ve hinted at you being a s€xually active person.

After a minute of digging through your drawers, he couldn’t find much.. until he found your mesh bra! He was shocked. He held it up in front of his face, confirming that the cups of the bra were almost completely see through. Had you always worn this around him?? Why didn’t you tell him sooner? Millions of thoughts went through his head, until he later decided to stuff it into his pocket and save his fantasies for tonight.

Bras weren’t the only thing that turned him on. He later noticed the perfume you used frequently on your desk. He’d never thought he’d be into scent stuff, but here he was, stealing the bottle of your 38$ perfume so that he could spray it onto his pillow. Lord, here he thought he’d have the ladies thirsting over him.

You touching him? Sends him into orbit. He nourishes the feeling like he’s getting his virginity taken. Even you tapping on his shoulder gets him to space out in the moment, not even noticing that you’re trying to get his attention.

“Hey, Scout, you know where my perfume went?”

“…huh?”

“I asked if you know where my perfume went.. are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda weird lately.”

Fuck. He wishes he can tell you how hard he’s been for you, but he’d rather touch Sasha than tell you about how he stole your perfume so that he could smell you on his bed. So for now, he’ll stay humping his pillow every night, wishing it was you underneath him..

“..I’m good, and nah, it was probably Pyro. I can smell that shit on him”

#*NovaWrites #I was gonna make this a whole thing but I’m not ready for that #baby steps #tf2 smut #tf2 x reader #tf2 #scout x reader #scout tf2 #smut headcanons

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wisteriaiswriting · 6 months ago

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Nonverbal Reader saying their name for the first time

Words: 280

Request: Could I request Scout and/or Sniper with nonverbal reader saying their name for the first time?

Standing in the doorway as you watch Jeremy throwing everything across the room, apparently he lost something important and was now panicking. He was so busy looking for it he didn’t notice you watching. But at this point there was a massive pile that had been moved across the room multiple times.

“Jeremy?” Even though you said his name quietly, he paused. Sitting up to look over, suddenly rushing through the mess, tripping and falling once or twice before reaching you. Hands grabbing your face as he stared, “Doll? Did ya just–”

His brain was not working right now. Placing your hands over his, which seemed to pull him out of his thoughts. “YOU SAID MY NAME!” Pulling back due to him yelling, “God, you love me that much, huh? You just had to say my name!”

And there he was. Huffing before leaving the room, hearing him rushing after you. “Y/N, I’M SORRY!”

It’s been hours, Mundy has been staring through his sniper just looking at… something. You had no clue really, everytime you tried to make sense of it you found nothing. But you managed to find things to pass the time, that was until you couldn’t.

Having gone through everything you could in the van there was eventually nothing left that you could do. So you turned to Mundy, managing to get a glance at a wild animal rushing past. “MICK!”

His head snapped towards you then to where you were pointing, as the animal left your sight he turned back to you. “Roo… Can you say that again?” Within minutes his gun was forgotten, the rest of the day spent hidden away in his van.

#tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #scout x reader #tf2 sniper #tf2 sniper x reader #sniper x reader #wisteria♥

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ramblinscramblin · 7 months ago

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→ General kissing headcanons!

Genre: fluff! GN reader

Characters: all mercenaries

Requested by me! First one of these, still getting a feel for writing for a lot these characters so forgive me if it’s ooc, I try my hardest! Enjoy!

Scout

Spends more time talking about kissing then actually doing it, psychs himself out a lot of time, may end up not even being able to do it.

He’s a nervous wreck when it comes to initiating physical contact, you’ll have to initiate most of the kisses most of the time (hehe).

Will pretend it’s you who’s nervous though, even if that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Look at you, you’re tremblin’ in your seat! Maybe some other night…” he said once, throwing an uncaring arm around the back of the couch.

“Scout, I’m not nervous… are you?” You pause for a moment, scanning his burning face “you are!”

“Nah! I’m not! What’s there to be nervous ’bout? Who even friggin’ cares not me! I’m relaxed!” He shouted as he quickly jumped to his feet “forget this! Im leavin’!”

Despite his reservations, once the two of you actually get into it, he warms up nicely. The anticipation is really what drives him crazy.

Scout definitely grabs at you whenever you two kiss, whatever he can reach really, your hips, jaw, neck, hands, thighs, whatever is closest.

Most of Scouts kisses are good natured, short, and sweet, he interrupts himself often to start a new train of thoughts. Extremely chatty during make out sessions, it’s almost endearing.

Deeper kisses are a pretty dangerous game for him, so he tends to keep that behavior for the bedroom.

Enjoys a good kiss on his forehead, would fucking die before he admitted that though.

Demoman

Really easy lover in pretty much every regard.

Demoman is looking for a good time, all the time, so long as you treat him with respect, kisses are pretty hard not to come by.

He’s almost always the one to make the first move (usually using a little bit of liquid courage to put a pep in his step).

“Yer lookin’ right as ever, wasna mor’ bonny cunt all night,” he said with a massive grin.

Sometimes it was a little hard to understand what he was saying, his facial expression usually tells you whether he means “cunt” in a negative or positive way. Clearly he is more than well intentioned.

“I’m… sorry,” you apologize with a gentle laugh “what was that?”

He placed a soft kiss right on the side of your mouth “I meant you look good, laddie/lassie.”

After that he pretty much kisses you all the time whenever for whatever.

LOVES IT when you take the reins though and kiss him, he always scoops you up and gives a big laugh, making a huge spectacle out of it.

Lots of drunk making out, I don’t make the rules.

Kisses you wherever you let him, no real preference, but loves to kiss your cheek and you his.

Solider

Solider is honestly a pretty hard read for me.

I feel like Solider takes most his cues from you, if you’re shy and nervous, he tends to act the same, if you’re confident and assertive, so is he.

Surprisingly, doesn’t take the lead very often, prefers if you tell him what you want, he hates reading social situations, especially when he tends to fail so often.

“Hey Solider,” you greet warmly one day.

“Hello maggot!” Strangely, despite the antagonistic nature of the nickname he still salutes you as you approach.

The two of you stand silently for a moment, before inevitably asking your most burning question “wanna make out?”

“Affirmative,” he said enthusiastically.

Most things with Solider are pretty simple, he’s a no nonsense fellow, he likes things to be American, and straight forward.

Kisses from him are always really fulfilling and deep, he likes kissing you before and after battle for “good luck”.

Kisses you on the back your neck and shoulders whenever they’re out, he loves that tender shit.

He likes to be taken seriously in his romances, no jokes during those times.

Always grabs the nape of your neck, almost always pulls away smiling. He’s a sweet heart.

Pyro

Pyro loves kisses.

Always secretly angling for them, anyway they can.

Pyro came up to you early one morning, a plate full of… what may at some point been then cinnamon buns saved in the communal fridge, but now were burnt to a crisp.

“Oh… is this for me! Thank you,” you smiled politely, taking the plate in your hands.

“Hudda hudda!” Mumbled Pyro happily, hands clasped in excitement.

You leaned forward and place a soft kiss on the side of their mask.

Pyro was so geeked and giddy, they didn’t even realize that you had discarded the cinnamon buns behind your back.

Big cartoony kisses on their mask, make a big show of it, with a loud “mwah!” As you pull away, they’re already melting.

Most kisses come when Pyro and you are cuddling, which is also a frequently required assignment from Pyro.

Every time they kiss you, you can hear a very muffled and yet extremely enthusiastic smecking sound from inside their mask.

Spy

Spy is headstrong with romance, never the kind of guy to pull his punches. He’s so charming though that you may not even notice.

He’s a gentleman, so there is actually a lot that has to happen before he is willing to kiss you.

Lots of flirting and courting, everything, the entire nine yards. Makes you feel like royalty. First date also needs to happen before he kisses you.

“I can pull out my own seat, Spy,” you scold a little half heartedly.

Spy just stares at you, half offended for a moment before saying “don’t speak nonsense, mon amor! It’s bad luck!”

You hardly lift a finger during the entire date, even goes as far as feeding you, ends the night with an incredibly scenic walk back home and a kiss under the New Mexico moonlight.

Once kissing becomes regular for the two of you… it still almost always treated like a first kiss. Passionate, polite, loving. Spy is honestly so dreamy when he’s courting someone.

Doesn’t take much to bring out his hungrier side though, craves your kisses a little too insatiably at times. He just cannot get enough of you!

Hand kisses, constant hand kisses. Holds your hand often so it is easy to quickly bring to his lips for a quick peck.

Sniper

Sniper may take the longest to convince out of all of them.

I mean you can rush into it and kiss him unexpectedly, but really you’d be shooting yourself in the foot. Plus Sniper deserves to be worked for.

Spending constant quality time takes a lot of effort, but it’s what is required to get him even close to comfortable with the idea of kissing someone.

Tends to stay out of the romance scene, things can get messy in his profession he doesn’t want to drag anyone else into it.

But oh god he thinks about it constantly, especially when you start hanging around more and more, too strict on policy to admit it.

But if it’s technically your idea? Well… it wouldn’t exactly be very polite to decline now would it?

You’re sitting with him around a campfire, shoulder to shoulder on a log he cut a little too short (definitely not on purpose).

“So… quiet night,” you say, peeking up at him with a crooked smile.

“Uh, yup. That’s right,” he said quietly, staring down at you intensely.

Your eyes darted to his lips for just a second, but that was more than enough, you two were locked together for over an hour.

Acts awkward around you almost every single time you kiss him, not matter how long it’s been. He just cannot seem to get used to it. Don’t bring it up though, it will put him off.

Kissing snipes is rewarding every damn time because of how hard you have to work for it.

He likes to whisper sweet nothings between kisses, don’t acknowledge it, in fact don’t acknowledge any of it (Mick does not want to be perceived).

Kisses your temple, frequently. Loves if you pick up the same habit.

Engie

Engie is a fiend for physical affection, it’s a secret you’re not supposed to know about it though.

Finds kissing to be the most important part of a relationship, really values the whole intimacy of it.

Even despite that I imagine that he’s not really flashy about his approach with how to get kisses, talks around it mostly, making jokes and jabs about it.

Engie is probably the most emotionally intelligent out of all the mercs, so he’ll work up the courage eventually just give him a minute or two.

“So… we’ve been gettin’ pretty close, havin’ a good time an’ all,” he said subtly while you were alone with him.

“Yeah, I’d agree,” you respond with a grin.

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant and confident “I think maybe we should take things to the next level, wha’d’ya say?”

Of course you accept, he’s still immensely shocked and red in the face about it though.

He likes really sudden like sickly sweet kisses, give him that corny rom-com stuff right now, he will absolutely melt.

Also likes to kiss while he hugs you, big into slipping his hands into your pockets while he does so.

Kisses your head a lot (if you’re taller than him he gets annoyed frequently that he can’t reach, you’re his prime target every time you sit down).

Just love on this man, he’s simple.

Medic

Despite how insane this guy is I feel like Medic is pretty coy with romance.

Not in a way that is shy, or insecure, or even nervous, he just enjoys being chased, he wants you to have to work for it at least a little bit.

You also have to prove to be someone worthy of his affection (which isn’t as hard as it sounds, show genuine interest in his interests and be sweet to his birds there you won).

Medic has a pretty lax kissing policy, he greets people with kisses all the time, so he wasn’t really shy with you even if things progressed more seriously.

“Oh! Good morning!” Medic exclaimed, placing a kick peck on the side of your lips.

Embarrassment clear on your face as you raise your hands in surprise, his good morning friendly kisses are usually placed squarely on the cheek, not so close to your mouth.

“Little eager this morning aren’t you?” You said in a teasing manner.

He shrugged a little, making a cheeky expression “I have no idea vhat you are talking about!”

Kisses at inopportune or awkward times, never seems to notice. Genuinely enjoys catching you off guard.

Likes make out sessions in his office a lot, secretly making mental notes about your oral situation, totally not creepy.

Expect a lot of kisses right next to your mouth, that’s his absolute favorite spot to kiss you, that or along your spine.

Heavy

Heavy is respectful to a fault honestly, is afraid of seeming creepy or imposing so he may keep his distance at first.

Definitely needs to go ahead from you before he thinks about making any moves, he doesn’t want to scare you away, and he doesn’t want to ruin his chances either. But once he sense a mutual attraction? He may get a little more bold.

“Is looking good tonight,” he said, elbowing you as lightly as possible.

“Who is?” You ask whipping your head around briefly.

Heavy laughed “you is,” he joked.

Kissing is almost always initiated by you, he has to be a special mood to start it himself, usually if he’s upset and needs a quick pick me up.

Is actually very clingy if you allow him to be (which of course you will, don’t be stupid people) holds you firmly in place while kissing.

Likes kissing your ears, finds your flustered reaction so sweet and adorable. Really into that pure shit.

Kisses you on the cheek whenever the two of you go your separate ways for whatever reason, and of course when you two reunite. Yes, you’re that couple.

God I’m such a sap, what’s wrong with me.

An: oh jeez! I hope that was good Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) again first time writing for a lot of these gents so let’s pray this isn’t offensively out of character. Thanks so much for reading!

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seiwas · 7 months ago

Note

for ur blurb: Midoriya, hands, and for a trope im thinking like first date ? first touch?

thanks for sending scout! 🫶

midoriya + hands + first touch

contains: pro-hero!deku x assistant!reader (i am a sucker for this), very cliche but i am a sucker for that too, reader wears flats and is also really clumsy

contrary to popular belief, pro-hero deku does not run as "hot" as the internet proclaims he does.

it's a reasonable expectation, you think, with how lively and bubbly he is. his hyperactivity must stem from some urge to constantly move, after all.

but, that's not what you feel on the first impact. on the initial collision.

routine patrols almost always result in your boss trudging up the emergency stairs, geared up and sweaty, because he refuses to occupy half of the elevator with the added real estate his hero suit takes up. it's sweet of him, awfully thoughtful really. the kind of person he is. but―

his office is on the 15th floor, and though he insists it's good warm up for the rest of the day, he's practically shedded off half of his suit by the time he reaches his floor, not quite heaving, but not quite breathing easily either.

today, you decide, you'll meet him half-way―bring down one of his extra shirts from the alarming amount he keeps stocked up in his office cabinet. and a bottle of water too, in case he's thirsty.

the trip down the emergency exit is made easier by a pair of flats you wear, a change initiated by midoriya during your first few months on the job. most assistants wear heels—an unspoken rule no one can quite explain. but—

“are your feet okay?” he asks as you both walk past a plaque that reads "gear support".

you look down at your feet before turning to him, confused, tilting your head slightly.

the corners of his eyes crinkle as he stifles a chuckle, endeared, "sorry.” his green mop of hair sways lightly as he shakes his head, “i mean, i noticed earlier. you were moving your feet a lot.”

your eyebrows shoot up, shoulders tensing as embarrassment washes over you. you immediately scramble on what to say, but your exchange quickly becomes a back-and-forth of who’s-realized-what when you notice midoriya’s freckled cheeks tint a dark pink.

“not—not like that’s wrong! or anything," he shakes his hands in front of him, palms splayed out in front of you. he immediately pockets one of them, taking a deep breath, "just,” before he sighs out, fingers hovering over the keypad to his personal gear room, “if your feet are starting to hurt, you should wear something more comfortable.”

and so here you are now, just having passed the tenth floor as you make your way down to meet your boss half-way. you can already hear his footsteps a few flights below, the heavy clunking of his boots echoing in the empty staircase.

you take another step, the bottle of water and t-shirt clutched tightly to your chest. you're careful to keep your feet light so as to not alarm him, but it must be his hero senses when you hear him call your name, his voice curling up in question as he stares at you from below.

you peer from the railing, smiling sheepishly as you raise up the items in your hand and wave.

some strands of his hair have matted to his forehead, the top portion of his suit zipped down to reveal the compression shirt he wears underneath. his eyes widen as he notices what you're holding, expression morphing into a small, relieved smile as he extends his legs to skip a step. you don't miss the small bow his head makes at your kind gesture.

it's at the landing of the eighth floor that midoriya pauses and waits, adjusting his pants and tucking his gloves into his utility belt as he watches you make your last few steps.

now, wearing flats to work has definitely solved a boatload of your discomfort in the agency; you no longer get blisters at the sides of your toes and your calves don't cramp the same way they used to. but while it's reduced the amount of times you've tripped and fallen by at least 50%, the constraint of a pair of heels is not the only factor that contributes to the little mishaps you typically get yourself into.

you're clumsy, to a fault―

as you take the second-to-the-last step before the landing, you somehow lose your footing and find yourself tripping, body going out of balance as it tips forward. you're preparing yourself for your inevitable fall when you think―

―not even a pair of flats can save you from that.

"oh my god―!" you squeak, voice involuntarily pulled from your throat as your hands fail to grab onto the railing. the split second you manage to get a glimpse of midoriya's face shows you that he's just as shocked as you are.

nothing can save you now, you fear.

except, maybe, a pair of pro-hero hands that just so happen to belong to your boss.

you're fully expecting to hit the floor when you're met with the firm surface of midoriya's chest instead, the damp fabric cool against your forehead. his hands are positioned separately along your waist and your hip, the one by your ribcage just centimeters shy from your chest.

if you aren't going to die from falling down the stairs, you're pretty sure you're going to die from embarrassment right now.

you blink, once, twice, a few times before his voice registers to you, the rumbling by your cheek accompanying his speech.

his concerned "are you okay?" feels like it should be a staple greeting at this point.

you maneuver yourself to stand upright slowly, the bottle of water and t-shirt still clutched in your other hand. his fingers grab a hold of yours to keep you steady, calloused skin touching yours.

you don't expect it, the slight shock you feel as his hand clutches your own; it’s cold and a little clammy amidst the bumps and grooves you feel from his scars.

the moment crashes onto you when you finally look up to face him, the embarrassment doubling you over to bow an almost perfect 90 degrees in apology, "s-sir deku, i'm so sorry!"

"h-hey," he laughs awkwardly, his hand reaching lightly to tap your back, "i-it's okay, you don't have to apologize―"

"i should've seen the last step, i didn't mean―" you remain in your bow, rambling.

"it's o―"

"i just wanted to deliver the shirt and maybe some water so you wouldn't have to―"

he glances at the items gripped tightly on your sides, his lips curling into a soft smile, “i really appreciate―"

"i didn't mean to cause more work―"

he sighs, amused as he crouches low to meet you eye-to-eye. you stop speaking, stunned by a pair of pine green staring at you. his freckled cheeks are dusted a familiar dark pink.

"please stop bowing," he requests, smile genuine and voice a little shy.

you scramble to stand straight, hands outstretched to give him the bottle of water and his t-shirt.

"h-here, sir deku. i'm sorry again, i'll do―"

"'deku'," he quickly replies, his hand reaching for the items. his fingers brush yours as he takes them from you—the second touch. it’s still a little cold, clammy as he says, "i mean, thank you. and just... just 'deku' is fine."

a/n: if i were to characterize reader, i would say they’re pretty similar to midoriya 😭 atp, they’ve also been working for a good year. reader has a developing crush on him (this scene is the trigger) and midoriya is really fond of reader! everyone teases him that his assistant is clumsy as heck but he kinda just shrugs it off and says it’s just their quirk (no pun intended), and that they’re really hardworking 🥹

#shotorus.workbook #midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #izuku x reader #mha x reader #bnha #izu #hope you enjoy this scout!#sightoru #ask #rep

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hypernova-writes · 4 months ago

Note

PLEADR HEAR ME OUT MY TF2 MAJESTY:

The mercs giving or receiving hickeys.

s..specifically medic and sniper 😍 and and also scout… MEOWWWW

thank u sm for feeding me with such amazing content

You're Welcome!! I'm currently cooking up my next long fic right now (more yandere unhinged Medic coming btw-) I also want to apologize for the lack of writing recently! Stuffs been pretty crazy in my life right now but i'm back! still sick but im back! (Or atleast trying to be—)

Merc's receiving and giving Hickeys: [Medic, Scout, Sniper]

Medic

Receiving: Medic LOVES when you give him hickeys. This man will wear them with PRIDE. Give them on his neck, his chest, his arms, hell he even ended up with one on his cheek once.

He bruises pretty easily, so whenever you end up making out and you start trailing down his chin to his neck...Oh he's a mess! He loves teasing you for this though-

"My little liebling...jou just love marking me up~ Don't worry, no one is going to take me from you."

He's LOUD so you better hope that no one is around that day.

Now when it comes to him leaving them on you?

His favorite spots are your thighs and your breasts. He loves how squishy they are and how easy it is to get you all marked up.

It riles him up so much when you two are about to be intimate and he sees the previous marks that he left on you starting to fade.

"Mhm..looks like I need to leave more, Liebling~. Zhey're fading.."

Scout

ANOTHER ONE WHOS LOUD.

He's also very sensitive, like, he starts whimpering type of sensitive, I headcanon the RED Scout to be a bit tanner than the BLU one, so when you mark him up he'll get all flustered because the others can see it.

"Jeez babe, what are ya a vampire or somethin'?.." He loves it don't stop. Will question you if you suddenly stop.

When the shoe is on the other foot?

He's such a fucking teasing prick.

Leaves them in obvious spots, has left one on your cheek before.

He likes to leave them in clusters, so you'll have several aligning one area of your neck. He likes to nuzzle into your skin afterwards to feel the heat of your skin.

"Tch. Why hide em? Everyone in the damn base knows ya my girl anyway."

Sniper

Will become flustered, turn so red that this man could put the damn shirt he wears to shame.

You leave them alot on his chest around his scars, the area is sensitive to him but he loves to look down and see your little love bites.

Doesn't want you to leave them too high up, not that he's not proud to show em off, he just doesn't wanna deal with the teasing he'll get from the other mercs.

"..try to keep em low love, please?..dont wanna hear those blokes mouths.."

Now when it's time to put them on you?

FERAL. FERAL. FERALLLLL

He bites, and he bites hard, you aren't leaving with a hicky you're leaving with a damn bite mark.

Mostly on your inner thighs and your hips. He loves the plush, bonus if you have a belly? Oh yea he's biting there too.

He likes to bite, then suck and lick on the area to make sure his mark stays, if it doesn't, prepare for him to do it again.

He has drawn blood one before, and you thought it was the hottest thing ever, you told him this and all dominance went out the window as he got a little embarrassed.

"..sorry sheila..got a lil carried away..here..let me kiss it better

Writing Snipers had be clawing at the walls of my enclosure— I'm so down bad for this man.

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mlmmetalhead · 2 months ago

Text

Mark S. has a filthy mind.

It starts innocent, or at least it should have.

You lean over his desk to hand him a form. Simple, innocent, but the sleeve of your shirt rides up, exposing the strong line of your forearm, and Mark’s brain just… breaks.

He stares. For too long.

Long enough that you tilt your head, give him a confused little smile like, “You good, boss?” And Mark panics, nearly knocking over his cup of pens. “Y-yeah, thanks.” He stammers awkwardly. You leave, strolling back to your own station, blissfully unaware. And Mark sits there, red-faced, papers crumpling slightly in his sweaty hands, mind spinning completely out of control.

Because all he can think about is your hands. Strong, capable.

What they would feel like if you just grabbed him, hauled him in by the tie, kissed him breathless right here against the desk.

Maybe shoved him down onto it.

Maybe ran those big, rough palms down his sides, held him open, touched him like you owned him.

Mark spends the next hour staring at the screen, absolutely useless. He tries. He really tries. He opens the file. He closes the file. He types two words.

He deletes them.

He imagines your mouth, the soft curve of your smile, the way you sometimes look at Mark like you’re considering devouring him whole, and then he’s squirming in his chair like an over-eager schoolboy, cheeks burning, thighs pressed tight together under the desk.

“You okay, man?” Dylan says at some point, peering over his divider.

“Mhm,” Mark squeaks, definitely not okay.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an image slams into his mind is him dropping to his knees under the desk. Pushing your legs apart. Looking up at you while your breath catches, one big hand coming down to cup the back of Mark’s head–

Mark jerks in his seat so hard he knocks his own pen onto the floor. He ducks down to get the pen, big mistake, because the movement brings him closer to your legs under the table, and he catches a whiff of your scent, clean and a little sharp from aftershave, and he just—

He pauses, crouched there, gripping the pen too tightly, imagining what it would be like if he stayed down here, if you’d let him nudge between your thighs and mouth at your cock until you were tugging his hair and gasping his name, trying to keep quiet in a room full of people–

Mark shoots back up into his chair so fast he nearly blacks out.

#x male reader #x reader #gay #male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #mlm #mlm ns/fw #fanfiction #severance #severance fanfiction #mark scout #severance x reader #mark s x reader #mark severance #mark scout x reader

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the-teufort-nine · 6 months ago

Note

Okay so I don’t know if you do part 2 requests…but if you do, an aftermath thing of the respawn fic would be sooo good.

I’m thinking it could be something w the ride home, or the few days after everyone gets home or maybe just the months after? And how the mercs treat the Chemist until everything is “normal” again?

If you don’t do part 2 requests that’s just fine!

The story is soooo good omg!!!

The Chemist Reader is back! This is part 2... OF THREE! That's right, I'm doing one more gn!Chem reader fic to finish off this little series. For now though, enjoy just over 9000 words of BLU Chemist and their attempt to get home!

Mercs x GN!Reader | Respawn Malfunction PART 2: The Long Way Home

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ Hurt/Comfort, Team Bonding | SFW, but it veers into talking about NSFW topics near the middle-ish to end| Cw: starvation, temp character death (yes, again!), vomiting, mentions of graphic death, mention of attempted date rape (nothing happens!!), self deprecation ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Featuring:

Everyone! Even Miss Pauling is here! Plus, a familiar, friendly(?) face at the end...

Scenario: After getting rescued from their unfortunate Respawn spot, the BLU Chemist embarks on a road trip back to New Mexico with their team. Everyone wants their attention it seems, but are they really worth all this fuss?

The smell of Engineer’s truck was very similar to that of his workshop; leather, oil, and coffee permeated the air, settling over you like a well-loved blanket. It was a stark contrast from the bitter, sterile cold air of the base you’d ended up in, which was far behind you now. You’d woken up a short time ago, content to simply look out the window in comfortable silence while Engineer drove. You lifted your head from its place on your seatbelt as you felt the vehicle begin to slow, arching a sleepy brow at Engineer. The Texan lifted up his goggles and gave you a comforting smile as he continued to park his truck.

“We’re makin’ a rest stop. You up fer some McDonalds?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

Predictably, you perked up, blanket slipping off your shoulders as you sat up straighter. Fast food had become a rare treat during your time working for Mann Co., and you weren’t about to pass on this opportunity. Engineer chuckled at your reaction and reached over to pat your leg.

“That’s what ah’ thought. Now, you stay right there, and ah’ll go ‘n grab ‘ya somethin’ tah eat.” Engineer said, before opening his door and stepping out into the darkness of the early morning.

As you busied yourself with readjusting your blanket, the door opened again, but it wasn’t Engineer slipping into the seat this time.

“Morning, sunshine!” Soldier greeted, pushing up his helmet slightly to look at you, “The grease monkey has tasked me with guarding you while the others retrieve breakfast!”

“Yeah? Well, I feel safer already.” You replied kindly, before yawning, “No one is dumb enough to mess with you, Sol.”

The man grinned and cracked his knuckles. “If you were not so weak, I would welcome the challenge! I have the strength of a thousand eagles coursing through my veins!”

You glanced down at your arms, missing the muscle that used to be there. You could barely hold the thermos Sniper had given you, let alone any sort of weapon. “Heh, yeah… guess I’m not going to be very useful for a while, huh?”

Soldier’s grin fell as he picked up on your despondent tone. Though he was far from being the smartest man on the team, even he could see that you were feeling upset. He looked at you, really looked at you, and realized that you were even frailer than he’d thought. You looked as though you were one strong breeze away from toppling over, and a surge of protectiveness shot through him. He’d failed you once, but he’d be damned if he allowed you to be hurt again.

“Wipe that sorry look off your face, maggot!” He lightly tapped you on the head, exercising more restraint than he ever had before, “We are a TEAM, and that means that we look out for one another! We will cover for your weaknesses until you have all your glorious strength returned to you, and you WILL get strong again!”

Soldier pushed a finger into your chest lightly, the pressure barely noticeable through your blanket and uniform. “You stared God in the face and then kicked him in the nuts! You clawed your way back from death and made Respawn spit you back out! The RED team will be crapping in their pants at the mere sight of you! Sun Tzu himself would be proud of you, son, and I am proud to call you my friend and teammate!”

Your vision went blurry as fat tears started to form in the corners of your eyes, but you were smiling as you wiped them away. That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to you, even if it was more shouted than said.

“Thanks, Solly.” You sniffed, giving your friend the best smile you could manage, which prompted him to shuffle closer and throw an arm around you, drawing you into his side.

You let your head rest on the space just above his breast, turning slightly so your cheek was pressed against his jacket. He shifted his hold, letting his arm curl around your midsection as you made yourself comfortable. Soldier reached up and took his helmet off, setting it aside for now. Normally, he’d be loathe to leave himself so vulnerable, but he needed to prioritize your safety, which meant insuring that he had the best possible range of vision. What if some communist bastard, or, God forbid, a member of the RED team tried to sneak up on you two? He needed to be prepared!

It was just a little hard to give his surroundings his full attention, though, when he had you resting on his chest. Normally, any kind of touch he got was rough, even if it was a friendly shove or tight, squeezing side hug. This, however, was different; soft and warm and different in a good way. You were totally relaxed, letting your eyes slowly shut as you sighed contently, grateful for the extra warmth. You felt very small in his hold, and that fact made Soldier's stomach flip flop about. On one hand, it was pleasing to know that you felt comfortable enough to fall asleep next to him while you were like this, trusting that he would keep you safe. On the other hand, it was almost terrifying to realize how vulnerable you were in that moment, how easily he could feel bone, where there had once been a healthy amount of fat and muscle. He was used to seeing you as a strong, capable fighter, and while he was sure you could still whip up one of your crazy little mixtures that made people’s faces melt off, you wouldn’t have the strength to use it.

Well, he supposed he’d just have to throw it for you.

Lost in thought, he missed Engineer’s approach, and startled when the driver side door suddenly opened. He cocked his free arm back instinctively, but just as quickly lowered it when he saw Engineer, who was holding an armful of drinks, fries, and hamburgers. The goggle-wearing man chuckled quietly when he saw the situation his normally gruff teammate was in.

You were halfway wrapped around him, cuddling up close in your sleep. Soldier had allowed you to position yourself how you wanted, and you had all but put yourself in his lap, tucking yourself beneath his chin and nuzzling against the collar of his uniform. He awkwardly lifted you up, shuffling into the passenger seat as Engineer slid into the truck next to him, setting down the food wherever there was free space.

“Looks like someone found a comfortable spot, huh?” He joked, unwrapping a cheeseburger and handing it to Soldier, who bit into it hungrily, “Can’t exactly blame ‘em for wantin’ a warm place to sleep, ‘specially after what they’ve been through.”

Soldier hummed in agreement as he swallowed. “I want to let them sleep, but I also want them to eat. They're… worse than I realized.”

Engineer frowned. “Ah know what ‘ya mean, Solly, but the Doc says we gotta be real careful about how much we let ‘em eat at first.”

“What? Why?”

“ ‘Parently their body is gonna need time to readjust to havin’ food in it, and if they eat too much, they'll just throw it right back up.” Engineer explained, “Really, we should be givin’ em a protein shake or somethin’, but ah think they'd choke me out if ah told ‘em they were gettin’ McDonald's, and then didn't give it to ‘em.”

Soldier snorted at the mental image of you grappling with the Texan, but froze up when you groaned and shifted, eyes blinking open. You yawned and rubbed at your eyes, before freezing right alongside your friend when you realized the position you were in. You blushed and leapt back as far as you could go, cursing when the back of your head smacked against the windshield.

“SHIT!” You yelped, grabbing onto your aching skull as your vision faded in and out. A rush of nausea started tumbling up from your guts, and you all but vaulted yourself out of the car as coffee and hot bile splashed up out of your throat and onto the dusty parking lot ground below.

You gagged and spat, wavering in place as you fought to stay upright. Hands were suddenly on your back, steadying you and at the same time soothing you. The rough voice of your only Australian teammate reached your ears over the sound of your vomiting, and you instinctively leaned into his touch, grateful for the support.

“There ‘ya go mate, get it all out.” Sniper said softly, rubbing the space between your shoulder blades. “I'm surprised ‘ya made it this long without sickin’ up.”

“They alright?!” Engineer called from behind you, a tinge of panic in his voice.

“Yeah, just got a bit of an upset stomach!” Sniper called back, wrapping an arm around you as you finally finished getting everything out of your system. “Come on then, let's getcha’ lyin’ down, yeah?”

“But I'm hungry.” You whined, feeling your stomach growl at the loss of what little sustenance your coffee had provided.

“I know, Roo. I know.” Sniper said sympathetically, “But if ‘ya eat somethin’ now, yer just gonna yack it back up again.”

You grumbled and wiped at your mouth, straightening up as best you could as Sniper led you to his van. By this point, the others had returned from their journey to the holy golden arches, and had realized something was wrong. Scout, who was midway through his second hamburger, almost dropped the damn thing as he rushed over to your side.

“Woah, what the hell happened? I thought they was takin' a nap?” He frowned, before reaching over to fix a part of your uniform that had become uncomfortably tucked, “Yo, Chem, not to be rude or nothin’, but you seriously look like crap. You feelin’ alright?”

“Clearly not, garçon stupide.” Spy suddenly materialized from the darkness of the early morning, a cigarette in his mouth and a sneer on his face, “And I'm sure your incessant yapping isn't helping.”

“Your bloody second hand smoke ain't doin’ wonders either, Spook, so shut yer mouth.” Sniper growled, both to defend his friend and to piss off his teammate.

“Chemist, would you like to come and ride in style for a while? I assure you that it will be more comfortable than the laborer’s rusted box on wheels.” Spy asked you, pointedly ignoring both Sniper's statement and Engineer's affronted yell.

You thought for a moment, considering your options. You were probably less likely to make a fool of yourself in Spy's presence, especially since you were sure the man wouldn't tolerate your strangely intense need to be close to someone, but on the other hand…

“Can I eat my McDonald's in the car?” You asked finally. Spy wrinkled his nose.

“That disgusting American grease slop? Absolutely not.”

“I'm going with Sniper.” You said immediately, allowing yourself to be led away by the marksman, who was grinning in a borderline feral way at the stunned Frenchman.

Sniper showed him a very specific, very unkind hand gesture as he helped you up into his camper van. Heavy was sitting in the passenger seat, munching on a box of fries that you would kill a man to have right now. Demo was lounging on one of the kitchen chairs, but sat up when he saw you and Sniper approach.

“Finally managed to steal ‘em away from Engie and Solly, eh Snipes?” Demo greeted, though his face fell a bit when he saw how heavily you were relying on Sniper. “Ack, what's wrong, Chem? Not feelin' too well?”

“Something like that.” You murmured, head lolling slightly. Now that a bed was in sight, another nap really didn't sound too bad.

“Here ya go mate.” Sniper gently lowered you down, making sure not to jostle you too much, “Now, I know you want yer Macca’s, but I've got some Vegemite an’ toast and some hot lemon with Manuka honey that you can have in a bit, and it'll stay down much easier, I promise. Me mum used ta give me that when I was sick, and it did wonders fer me.”

“Sounds good.” You replied, not even really taking in what he said. He was talking about giving you food, and that was all your sleepy brain needed to know.

A woolen blanket was pulled over you, and a warm, calloused hand ran itself through your hair before slowly lifting your protective goggles off your head, setting them aside somewhere. The hand returned for a moment, gently pressing against your forehead, lingering there for just a heartbeat longer than maybe it needed to, before slowly retracting. You frowned at the sudden lack of touch, but there was little you could do to call it back.

Admitting you needed it was a weakness you weren't quite ready to voice yet.

“Come on now, laddie, time to wake up. Yer breakfast is ready.”

You groaned and cracked an eye open, blinking slowly at Demo, who was sitting on the bed. You pushed yourself up, eyes gravitating towards the tray your teammate was holding. There was a plate with two warm, buttered slices of toast topped with a thin layer of Vegemite spread, cut into four individual triangles, and a mug of what smelled like lemon and honey, just as Sniper had promised.

“Can I please eat that?” You begged, uncaring of how desperate it made you sound.

“Well, it ain't for ye to look at.” Demo joked, startling slightly as you snatched a piece of toast and practically all shoved it into your mouth. “Jesus! Slow down there, Chem! You'll make yerself sick again.”

You growled at the demolition expert, baring your teeth when he moved to try and reach for your hand. You hadn't eaten in nearly two days, your body had been robbed of anything it could feed off of, and Demo wanted you to slow down?

Hah, fat chance.

The Scot held his hands up in surrender, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. Also, he didn't feel like losing a hand, not when Medic was riding in a different car.

You scarfed down the Vegemite toast, your body rejoicing as precious, precious salt finally entered your mouth. Normally, you'd turn your nose up at the salty spread, but at that moment, that piece of toast may as well have been a gift from God himself.

If you threw this up, you were actually going to cry.

With that thought in mind, you slowed down, taking the time to carefully chew your mouthful before swallowing. You let what you ate settle before you dared to try and ingest anything else. When your stomach didn't turn, you reached for the mug, blowing lightly on the liquid before taking a tentative sip.

It was very warm, but not so hot that you couldn't drink it. The lemon washed away the awful taste of vomit that lingered in your mouth, and the honey soothed your dry throat like nothing else. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in the warmth and comfort.

“Holy shit,” you croaked, setting the mug down as you turned to face Demo, “that tasted so good. We need to have Sniper make dinner more often or something, because he clearly knows what he's doing.”

“He said his mum taught him how to make it, and mums always know how to make somethin’ that makes ‘ya feel better.” Demo said, handing you another slice, “Now, slowly this time. I mean it! ‘Ya looked like a bloody wild dog just now.”

“Cut me some slack, D, I'm literally starving over here.” You said as you bit into the toast, “I think I'm allowed to have some bad table manners, yeah?”

“Aye, I suppose ‘ya got me there.” Demo conceded, though he still looked concerned, “ ‘m just worried about ye throwing it up before yer body can digest it.”

You nodded, chewing and swallowing what was in your mouth before replying.

“I know. I don't wanna puke again either. It's just-” You took in a breath, ignoring how even that simple action was harder than usual, “I'm so fucking hungry. I feel like my stomach is going to burn right through my abdomen, but I know I can't eat too much too quickly, or I'll just be sick again.”

Demo patted your shoulder, giving you a pitying look. “It'll be alright, Chem. The hard part’s already over. Ye survived the impossible and made it back to us, now it's our turn to help ya get back to yer old self.”

“Yeah.” You said quietly, looking at your reflection in the mug’s liquid. A gaunt, pale mockery of your face stared back. You could hardly even recognize yourself, and a small, dark part of yourself wondered if you ever would again.

“My old self.”

The next time you all stopped, it was well into mid morning. Sniper had pulled into the parking lot of a motel, Spy and Engineer following after him. Apparently, the only people with valid driver's licenses were you, Sniper, Engineer, Spy, and Miss Pauling, and you were all either exhausted or in no condition to be driving. Therefore, you were booking rooms at this dinky little motel so that they could rest and not kill all of you by falling asleep at the wheel.

It was Heavy that led you into the building, letting you lean against him for support. He’d offered to carry you, but you wanted to preserve some sense of dignity, if you could help it. Also, you figured it might upset your team further if they thought you couldn’t even walk. Pyro already looked ready to pounce everytime you wobbled, and you weren’t oblivious to the concerned looks Engineer and Spy were giving you.

“маленький химик will be staying with Doktor. He wants to do check up, to make sure there is not any hidden problems.” Heavy explained, before lowering his voice, “Heavy knows you are tired, but please go along with it. Doktor is very worried, even if he does not say it.”

“Don’t worry, Heavy, I’ll behave.” You promised, “I could do with sleeping a little less anyway.

Heavy nodded and led you to your room, handing you the key for it. You unlocked the door and pushed it open, smiling at Medic, who was unpacking various syringes and pills from a bag and placing them next to his Medigun.

“Ah, Heavy, Chemist, right on time!” he greeted, walking over to you two.

Quick as a whip, he pulled up your sleeve and injected you with a clear liquid. You yipped in surprise, rubbing the sore area as he withdrew the needle. “Ouch! What the hell was that?!”

“Magnesium Sulfate!” he replied cheerily. “I also have a shot of Thiamine and Potassium I need to administer before I give jou more vitamin tablets.”

“Couldn’t I just have taken a magnesium tablet?” You questioned in a deadpan voice, unnamused with your colleague’s method of getting you to take your vitamins. Heavy patted your shoulder one more time before leaving the room, likely to go and find his own.

“Ja, but zhis is much quicker, und I know it vill actually stay in jour body.” Medic waved one hand animatedly, the other one reaching for another syringe, “Herr Sniper told me jou vomited earlier, und that jou didn’t finish your breakfast.”

“I couldn’t. I felt full after two slices of toast and a couple of sips of my drink.” You groaned, flopping down onto your bed, “I didn’t even get to have my cheeseburger. It’ll be all cold and gross now.”

“I’m sure jou vill have another chance to get one.” Medic comforted as he jabbed your arm with another needle. You winced, but said nothing. “Ve are still about 10 hours away from zhe base.”

“We are?” You asked, sitting up abruptly, “Jesus, how far out was I?”

“The base jou respawned in was in Montana. Currently, ve’re somewhere in Wyoming.” Medic rubbed his chin, thinking, “To be honest, I have no idea how or vhy jou ended up so far away. Jou should have respawned in a much closer location, or not at all!”

“Yeah, it doesn’t make much sense to me, either.” You said, rolling up your other sleeve as Medic produced the final shot, “Maybe that one was the last one that was activated? Are there… are there other RED and BLU teams that use them?”

Medic paused, considering.

“I… am not sure.” he said finally, gently taking your offered arm into his hands as he pressed the needle into your skin, “I haven’t heard of any other teams, but I suppose it's possible. It's as good an explanation as any.”

“Well, I’m glad it brought me back.” You said, glancing up at Medic, “I gotta admit, I was shocked to see you guys. I can’t believe you all drove to Montana just for me, especially Miss Pauling.”

“Vell, vhy vouldn’t ve? Jou vould do the same for any of us, ja?” Medic asked, putting a bandage over your injection sites.

“Well, yeah, of course.” You replied quickly, “But, wouldn’t it have been easier to just… get a new Chemist?”

Your eyes had flicked towards the floor, so you didn’t see the way Medic tensed up. The German curled his hands into fists for a few seconds as he took a deep, calming breath. “Vhat do you mean?”

“Well, there’s not really anything special about me. I mean, Scout can run faster than anyone, Soldier is completely fearless, Heavy is, like, the strongest guy ever, Sniper could shoot a bat out of the night sky, Pyro makes even the toughest men afraid just by breathing near them, Demo can make crazy explosives, Engie can make anything, Spy can be anyone, and you can successfully play God on a daily basis!” You said, listing off everyone’s skills, “And then there’s… me. I mix chemicals and throw them at people. Pretty much anyone could do my job.”

“Jou believe jourself to be disposable.”

You cringed slightly at Medic’s cold tone. “I guess. I might have said it in a nicer way, though.”

You watched as Medic took a deep breath in, said something quietly under his breath in German, and then walked over to his bag and retrieved a few vitamins before striding back over to you.

“Take zhese, und don’t move. I vill be back.” he said, before exiting the room.

You tilted your head and frowned as Medic closed the door behind him. You felt as though you had upset your teammate, but you weren’t exactly sure how. Nothing you said had been untrue, after all.

Popping the tablets into your mouth, you made yourself comfortable, positioning your pillows so they supported your back as you lay down. The covers of the bed were cheap and scratchy, but the room was slowly warming up, and you could deal with a little discomfort. After an embarrassing amount of time and effort, you managed to wiggle your way under the blankets. A TV sat on the dresser on the other side of the room, but you couldn’t see the remote for it anywhere. You’d have to ask Medic if he’d seen it when he came back from wherever it was he’d wandered off to.

About 10 minutes passed, and you were, annoyingly, beginning to nod off again, when suddenly your door opened once more. You leaned forward, eyes widening when you realized that everyone was walking into your room.

Soldier and Demo came in first, making themselves at home at the foot of your bed. Scout, a very tired Miss Pauling, and Pyro came in next. Scout was quick to drape himself across the middle of your bed like a cat, while Pyro flopped down next to you.

Apparently, your bed was the best seat in the house to your teammates.

Sniper and Spy followed after them, both exhausted men scowling at each other but refusing to disperse too far into the room, both of them determined to stay near you. Engineer, who was holding a cup of shitty motel coffee, claimed one of the plush, cigarette-scented seats that sat in the room’s corners after he walked in. Finally, Heavy and Medic entered, with Heavy moving over to sit on his companion’s bed. The large man shot you a questioning look, but all you could offer him was an equally confused shrug. You didn’t know what was going on.

“Docteur, I assume you have a reason for interrupting our rest so early into our stay?” Spy groused, reaching for his cigarettes.

“Of course, Herr Spy.” Medic replied, before turning to Miss Pauling, “Fräulein Pauling, vhy did you go to retrieve our Chemist?”

Everyone in the room turned to look at Medic with a look of confusion. Why would the doctor ask such a thing?

“Wh- because they needed help?” the raven haired woman waved her hands around, “Why wouldn’t I go get them?”

“Vould it not simply be easier for us to let zhem die und replace zhem?” Medic asked, and you winced slightly, hearing your own question spoken in such a way. You hadn’t used the word ‘die,’ but it had been implied.

At Medic’s words, the room erupted into noise, your team wasting no time in jumping to your defense.

“Yo, Doc, what da hell?!” Scout shouted, pushing himself up. He quickly turned towards you, holding his hands up, “Don’t listen to that guy, Chem. He must’a taken too much of his own stock.”

“Now where the hell is this comin’ from?” Engineer spat, roughly slamming down his coffee. “We would never just- just replace Chem! ‘Specially not when we knew they were alive!”

The other mercenaries shouted out various forms of agreement, some of them looking just about ready to jump the man.

“Doktor spent many nights contemplating shredding application forms for new Chemist.” Heavy added, sending his friend a questioning yet stern look, “You should explain yourself, старый друг.”

“I vas simply asking questions zhat our Chemist asked me only a few moments ago.” Medic replied calmly, clasping his hands behind his back. “It seems as zhough they believe zhemself to be disposable, zhat zhey did not deserve to be saved, because zhey believe zhat ve could replace zhem easily.”

The eyes that had been on Medic shifted to look towards you, and you shrank down as much as possible. You would have felt more comfortable if they’d pointed a loaded gun at your head.

“Chemist,” Miss Pauling started, “do you know why the Administrator sent me to recruit you?”

You shook your head.

“Well, the first reason is because the DNA sample I took from you proved that you were Respawn compatible.” she started, pressing her hands together, “The second reason is because when you saw some guy trying to roofie me in a bar, you stole his drink, spiked it with a specialized mixture that you created, and then you convinced him to chug it by betting him five bucks that he couldn’t. Do you remember what happened next?”

“He went to the bathroom because he didn’t feel good.” You recalled with a smile, “Then he melted.”

“Yeah, because you spiked his drink with something that, upon contact with stomach acid, turned into fluoroantimonic acid!” Miss Pauling exclaimed, “A regular person could never do that! Hell, even an experienced chemist couldn’t do half the things you do!”

“Jesus Lord Almighty!” Engineer chuckled, pushing up his goggles to look you in the eye, “Remind me to never make you angry.”

“Point is,” Miss Pauling drew your attention back to her, “You are not disposable. It would be easier to clone you then it would be to replace you, because you are smart, talented, and just as batshit insane as the rest of these bloodthirsty lunatics. No offence, guys.”

Your team nodded along with her words, giving you reassuring looks.

“She’s right! Yer absolutely cracked, but yer one of us!” Demo crowed, lifting his Scrumpy bottle to toast you.

“HUDAH HUDAH HUDAH!” Pyro cheered, wrapping you up in a warm, tight hug. You grinned and shoved your face into their shoulder, tears wetting your eyes as you nuzzled the blue material.

“Congratulations, you have learned what everyone here already knew.” Spy said, patting you lightly on the back as you lifted your head to peek back at him, “I will be taking my leave now. Do not wake me again unless zhe building is on fire.”

“I hate to agree with Spoi, but, yeah,” Sniper nodded, reaching over to ruffle your hair, “I’m about to drop ‘mself. I’ll see you all at dinnah.”

“Ah’ll see m’self out as well.” Engineer said, getting to his feet, “Get some rest, darl’. We’ll get you somethin’ decent fer dinner.”

“Any chance we can have a sleepovah, Doc?” Scout asked, breaking out the puppy dog eyes.

“Nein.” Medic said firmly, planting his hands on his hips.

“Worth a shot.” Scout sighed, giving you a fistbump as he slid off the bed. “Ey, Chem, no more talkin’ crap about my best friend, or I’m gonna have to lay down the hurt, understand?”

“YES!” Soldier agreed loudly, “IF I HEAR YOU PUTTING YOURSELF DOWN AGAIN, I WILL BEAT THE CRAP OUTTA YOU! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!”

“Yes sir.” You replied, giving him a salute as Pyro reluctantly pulled away. They reached into one of their pockets and withdrew a box of matches that had been decorated with crayon. Pyro tucked it into your hands and pressed their gasmask against your head in an almost kiss-like way.

The rest of the team and Miss Pauling shuffled out of the room one by one, each of them waving goodbye or acknowledging you in some way before they left. Medic fixed you with a kind, if mildly smug look as the last of your team left.

“Do jou still see jourself as disposable, mein Chemiker?”

You didn’t quite understand what his last words had been, but you managed to infer that he was saying your name, so you nodded, smiling. “No. Not at all.”

Medic matched your grin with one of his own, though the doctor’s showed far more teeth. “Wunderbar! Now, let’s get zhe rest of zhose vitamins in jou! Ve have so many to get zhrough!”

By the time dinner had rolled around and your team had started to wake up, Medic had given you enough vitamins and nutrient boosters to kill an elephant. He’d also done a thorough examination of your insides, which included him setting the Medigun to low, switching it to automatic mode, and cutting you open from collarbone to pelvis. He had been quite happy to inform you that your organs had not been affected by your turbulent trip through Respawn.

Thank God you’d insisted on laying in the bathtub.

Engineer had knocked on your door as you were finishing getting dressed, and when you opened it, the Southerner revealed that he had gone out and found you something that you could both eat and that wouldn’t taste like garbage.

“It ain’t smoked brisket ‘n biscuits,” he commented as he set down a banana smoothie and a small fillet of salmon, “but I reckon it’ll do.”

“Engie, I could kiss you right now.” You warbled, close to crying.

The man flushed scarlet and rubbed at the back of his neck, but you were too focused on the food to notice. Engineer and Medic stepped out to get their own dinners, leaving you to enjoy yours.

The salmon was still warm, seasoned with a pinch of salt and a squeeze of lemon, and it yielded easily to your plastic fork. It went down easily and, more importantly, stayed down, even when you started to tentatively sip the banana smoothie. The smoothie was cold, smooth, and probably loaded in things that were good for you.

“I see zhat zhe laborer has finally managed to procure you a decent meal.”

You jumped slightly, scrambling to catch your drink as it slipped from your grip. Spy leaned against your doorway, arms crossed in a casual way as he watched you eat. He looked much more rested, the bags around his eyes having retreated.

“Do you feel sick at all?” he asked, arching a brow.

You shook your head. “Nah, Medic loaded me up with some stuff that's supposed to help me keep food down. You’d have to ask him exactly what it was, though.”

“Perhaps I shall.” Spy replied, “Come, mon féroce petit scorpion, you can finish your drink in zhe car.”

“But I thought I wasn’t allowed to have food in your car?” You questioned, wiggling forward towards the edge of your bed.

“I will make an allowance, just zhis once.” The masked man said, offering you his arm.

“Don’t want Sniper to scoop me up again?” You teased.

Spy’s nose wrinkled in displeasure. “Non. Zhe bushman does not look as zhough he got an adequate amount of sleep, and I will not risk your safety when we just got you back.”

“Awww,” you cooed, causing Spy to jerk his head away in embarrassment, “you big softie. I knew you loved me.”

“Dieu, sauve-moi de ma grande gueule et de mon cœur faible.” Spy muttered, pressing his free hand to his head.

“No idea what you just said there, pal.”

“Zhat is zhe point.” The Frenchman replied.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. I’ll just get Scout to translate for me later.”

Spy shot you a confused look as you stepped outside. “Scout? Please, zhat illiterate cretin doesn’t speak French! He barely speaks English.”

“That’s what you think.” You insisted, raising your eyebrows, “I’ve heard him singing in French sometimes. Sounded to me like he knew exactly what he was saying.”

Spy’s brow furrowed, and the two of you fell into silence as he helped you to his car.

The interior of Spy’s car was just as luxurious as you imagined. Black leather seats were warm beneath your touch, and it was kept immaculately clean. You felt kinda bad even sitting in it, let alone bringing any kind of food or drink inside, but Spy had insisted, so you took your offered seat, which was the passenger seat.

“What kind of car is this?” You asked, carefully laying the blanket Spy had brought over your lap, just in case some of your smoothie somehow managed to leak.

“She is a Bizzarrini 5300 GT Strada.” Spy replied, reverently running a hand over the wheel as you whistled, “Gorgeous, non?”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, “I feel like I shouldn’t even be in this thing, it’s so nice.”

“You cannot possibly be a worse passenger than Scout.” Spy said, a hint of humour in his tone, “I can tell you are being careful. Relax, mon ami.”

You nodded, smiling shly.

Suddenly, the back doors opened, and Pauling, Medic, and Pyro all piled into the back.

“Herr Spy,” Medic started, “If jou wish to avoid a confrontation with Herr Sniper und Herr Engineer, I suggest jou start driving. Now. Zhey are not pleased zhat you whisked zhe Chemist away.”

“Well, zhey can, as Scout so often says,” Spy grinned sharply as the two aforementioned men burst out of the motel, yelling in the direction of the expensive car, “‘suck my dick.’”

You whooped in delight as Spy peeled out of the parking lot, laughing as a rush of wind blew against your face. Through your delighted giggles, you managed to buckle yourself in, grinning so wide your jaw ached as you saw both Sniper’s van and Engineer’s truck fly out onto the dusty road after you. Pyro laughed right alongside you, while Miss Pauling and Medic struggled to right themselves after gravity smushed the small woman into the doctor’s side.

“I didn’t know you were a speed demon!” You cheered, shouting to be heard over the wind.

“I do not often get to indulge, but,” Spy’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “yes, I do enjoy using zhe power my vehicle affords me.”

He adjusted the mirror, the orange light of the setting sun glinting in its reflection. “But even more so do I enjoy zhe thrill of a chase.”

Sure enough, both of the other vehicles were steadily gaining, and if you squinted, you could see both Sniper and Engineer gritting their teeth and glaring at Spy’s car.

“Why are they chasing us?” You questioned, confused.

“Because I have something zhey want.” Spy replied, shooting you a sideways glance, “Or, rather, someone.”

Your face suddenly felt very warm.

Maybe you had been wrong before. Maybe you really could have asked Sniper to keep his hand on your head. Maybe you didn’t have to leap off of Soldier’s lap, automatically assuming he was uncomfortable.

Maybe your teammates would be just fine with you desperately seeking their attention, their touch.

‘WOAH THERE NELLY!’ Your internal thoughts threw up a great big STOP sign, whacking you on the head with it, ‘Let’s change THAT line of thinking right now!’

Jesus Christ you needed to reread the dictionary definition of a ‘professional workplace relationship’ because clearly you had forgotten what it meant!

Quiet, ashamed, and unwillingly thinking about calloused hands brushing against your skin like some Victorian-era harlot, you returned to sipping your banana smoothie.

It was still very good. Just like the salmon Engineer had gone well out of his way to get specifically for you.

Stop stop stop stop.

Or like the blanket Spy had picked out and bought for you because he knew you would be cold, or like the hot lemon with special honey Sniper had made you, because he thought it would make you feel better.

STOP STOP STOP STOP!

‘They’re racing for you.’ A silky, pleased part of yourself whispered, ‘They’ve been fighting over your attention since you joined them, it’s just become much more obvious now. You could go right up to any of them, and they’d be more than happy to give you some attention.’

S H U T U P

Suddenly, the car swerved, jerking you out of your inner torment. Your straw, which was still inside your mouth, jabbed into the back of your throat. You gagged on reflex, slapping a hand over your mouth as the urge to vomit washed over you. You grimaced, winced from the pain, and breathed slowly in through your nose as Spy swore out the window.

“Espèce de chauve-souris stupide et aveugle! Quittez la route avant que je décide de vous y forcer!” he snarled at a vehicle that had veered into the wrong lane, huffing as he leaned back. He glanced over at you quickly, his expression becoming more concerned when he saw the look on your face. “Y/N? Are you alright?”

You swallowed, and sighed in relief when your stomach settled again. “I’m okay. Just got a bit jostled.”

“Do you need me to stop?”

You waved Spy off. “No, I’m fine, really. Just, maybe slow down a bit? Just until we’re back in the country.”

Spy nodded and eased off the gas, Sniper and Engineer following suit.

“Zhat is probably for zhe best. Zhe last zhing we need is to start a police chase.” Spy conceded.

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good.” You frowned, “I think at least half of us probably have warrants out for our arrest somewhere.”

“More than half.” Both Medic and Miss Pauling chimed in from the back.

You nodded, leaning back in your seat. You thought about that; about who might be wanted for what. It was a decent distraction from your previous thoughts, and you welcomed it. Turning to look out the window, you watched as the sunsetting twilight changed into a beautiful, starry night sky. Come morning, as long as things stayed on track, you’d be home.

Spoiler alert: things did not stay on track.

You had been making your way through Colorado when it happened. You and Spy had been listening to a local radio station while Pyro, Miss Pauling, and Medic snoozed in the back. You would have been asleep too, but something about the clouds that had rolled in made you nervous. Just as Spy had been reaching to change the station, a sharp, piercing alarm sounded out from the radio.

“Alert! A tornado warning is being issued for the Limon area! All residents are urged to seek shelter immediately! Please gather up all children and pets and make your way to a basement or interior room! Avoid all windows and objects that may prove hazardous if they fall! If you are in a mobile home, in a vehicle, or are outside, please make your way to the nearest secure building!”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Spy gaped, looking frantically at the sky. The darkness brought an extra level of danger, and you felt your heart leap up into your throat.

“Is there even anywhere to shelter out here?!” You asked, your eyes darting about as you stuck your head out of the window. All that you could see was a flat expanse of fields that stretched out forever into the dark.

“Whuz goin’ on?” Miss Pauling groaned, rubbing at her eyes.

“Oh, nothing much.” You laughed nervously, “Just, uh, a tornado.”

“Was? Ein Tornado?” Medic said blearily, sitting up.

“Oui.” Spy confirmed grimly. He reached over to the radio and tuned it to a very specific frequency. “Bushman, laborer, I assume you have received zhe same warning?”

“Yeah mate.”

“Same here.”

“I suggest we make a break for zhe nearest town. It is only about a mile away.” Spy offered, pressing down on the gas pedal.

“Not like we got many options. We’re sittin’ ducks out here.” Engineer’s voice crackled through the car speakers. “You lead, we’ll follow.”

You put your window up and tightened your seatbelt, glancing back at the backseat passengers. “Can you guys wake Py up? We’ll wanna be ready to go once we stop.”

“Jawohl.” Medic agreed, reaching an arm behind Miss Pauling to gently nudge the firebug.

Spy treated the dark road like it was a professional racetrack, the engine of his car growling like a wild beast as he shot across the asphalt. You kept your eyes trained on the sky, cringing when a flash of lightning revealed a green sky.

“Man, we really have just the worst luck, huh?” You muttered.

“It is starting to seem that way.” Spy growled, his gaze anxiously flicking between the road and the ever worsening sky.

“What do we do if we get to town and there’s nowhere to hide?” You asked.

“We keep driving and pray we can get ahead of the storm.”

You gulped audibly.

Soon, the silhouettes of buildings came into view. As you passed the town sign, hail started to pour down. The little pellets of ice crashed against the car, bouncing off the windshield and tumbling down the road as the wind swept them away. You peered out into the storm, searching for a suitable hiding place.

“There!” You exclaimed, pointing towards a small, rundown mechanic shop. The sign was in pieces and graffiti covered the garage door, but the building itself looked stable.

“It will have to do.” Spy said, pulling off the road.

You hopped out of the car once it came to a stop, grunting when a powerful blast of wind pushed you against the vehicle. Strong hands suddenly gripped you, and you found yourself pulled against Miss Pauling, who was going her best to dig her heels into the ground. Medic and Spy came up on either side of you, helping to buffer the wind as Pyro ran to the side door, axe in hand.

Your little group of four made it to the door just as Pyro managed to break the lock. The arsonist let you in, holding the door as the rest of your team made a run for safety. The inside of the mechanic shop was dark and dusty, but the thick concrete and steel was a source of comfort.

“Is everyone alright?” Engineer asked, dusting hail off his shoulders.

Everyone made various noises of affirmation, fixing their own outfits and looking around the place. Scout skittered over to you and Pauling as a loud thunderclap rumbled outside, the runner not so subtly positioning himself next to you.

“Jeeze, you sure this place’ll hold up?” He asked, nervousness leaking into his voice.

“It’s better than being exposed outside.” Miss Pauling replied, before gently taking your hand, “Come on, Chem, let’s find somewhere to sit.”

You followed dutifully, Scout trailing along behind you. Miss Pauling managed to find some milk crates after many minutes of blindly feeling around in almost complete darkness before you remembered that you had been gifted a box of matches, and the three of you set them up in the middle of the room. You took off your blanket and shucked off your lab coat, laying them across the crates to act as a cushion. You could feel the chill of the shop creeping into your bones, but you ignored it, settling down in between Demo and Heavy.

“We’ve got some absolutely shite luck, lads.” Demo frowned, glancing towards the barricaded side door, “We could’a been near home by mornin’ if this damn tornado hadn’t come outta bloody nowhere!”

“My thoughts exactly.” You murmured, “Hopefully it blows over soon. We don’t exactly have any supplies prepared.”

“Hrr yuh filn righh?” Pyro asked.

“Yeah, Py, I’m okay. I can’t eat for another few hours anyways.” You reassured the arsonist.

“You gonna be warm enough in here? It’s kinda chilly.” Scout said, shuffling a bit closer to Pyro, who was always a good source of heat. The pyromaniac let the runner lean on them, amusing themself by lighting matches that they kept producing from God only know where.

“I’ll be fine. I can suck it up for a bit.” You replied.

Medic tsked from somewhere to your right, and, after a few moments of shuffling, you felt something warm being draped over your shoulders. It was kind of heavy, and when Pyro lit another match, you caught a glimpse of Medic’s Class symbol on the arm.

“Thanks, Doc.” You smiled softly, slippin the coat on.

“Zhink nothing of it. Jou are lacking jour usual body fat, and thus require additional help to keep jourself warm.” Medic said matter of factly.

“Hey Chem, I can think’a somethin’ that’d help warm you up real fast.” Scout called in a teasing, flirtatious tone, the Bostonian laughing before someone’s elbow made its way into his gut at a rapid pace.

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’d like to be fucked for longer than 30 seconds.” You shot back, smirking when a chorus of ‘Ooooohs’ sounded out from your teammates.

Scout made a ‘pshh!’ sound and crossed his arms. “Uh, first of all, it wouldn’t be ‘30 seconds’, prick, second; whaddya mean you “think” you’d wanna be fucked longer than that? You a virgin or somethin’?”

“Scout,” Spy hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “use what few brain cells you possess and display a modicum of decorum, please.”

Your face turned a lovely shade of pink as you laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh…”

“Y’ don’t have to answer him, Chem. Lord only knows that boy needs to learn to stop runnin’ his damn mouth.” Engineer added, shooting a pointed look at Scout, who threw his hands up, exasperated.

“No, it’s fine.” You rubbed at the back of your head, feeling sheepish, “I am. A virgin, I mean. People didn’t exactly want to bang the weirdo who spent most of their time putting bugs in formaldehyde and playing with a kids chemistry kit, and then I started working with you guys, soooo… yeah.”

The room fell into a tense, awkward silence, broken only by the sound of the howling wind outside.

“I would.” Soldier said suddenly.

10 heads turned towards the helmet wearing man.

“What?” he asked, not a trace of shame in his voice. “The Chemist is a brave, capable, AMERICAN teammate who I have personally witnessed melt THREE RED bastards at once! The only way they could be more attractive is if they were the Statue of Liberty itself!”

Spy started to say something, but Demo cut him off.

“I gotta agree with Solly there, lads.” He nodded sagely, “Not about the statue bit, but yer a bonnie sight, Chem.”

“Too right.” Sniper piped up, his blush almost invisible in the infrequent matchlight Pyro provided.

“Sacrebleu, are you all truly going to salivate over our Chemist like a pack of wild dogs right in front of zhem?!” Spy yelled, gesturing towards you.

You were doing your very best impression of a well cooked lobster while trying to process what was happening at the moment, and thus did not really take in his statement.

“Now Spy,” Engineer teased, pushing up his goggles slightly to fix the masked man with a knowing look, “don’t go acting like you’re any better than these boys. You’ve either been struttin’ around like a peacock or poutin’ like a kicked puppy ever since we picked Chem up, and don’t think we haven’t noticed you always makin’ sure their spice cabinet and bakin’ ingredients never get too low.”

“Zhat is because sending zhem to Teufort is a death sentence and you know it!” Spy hissed back, “Besides, are you just going to sit zhere and pretend zhat you don’t invite zhem to dinner in your sacred domain just so you can show off all your little toys?”

“Both Spy and Engineer act like school girls with first crush.” Heavy said abruptly in a flat tone. “Is embarrassing. Please stop.”

“Nein! Please continue!” Medic clapped his hands, giddy, “Jour conflict is like eine Seifenoper!”

Heavy arched a brow at the German. “Doktor is worse than them! Is always circling Chemist like shark, waiting to take bite!”

“Augh! Zhat is not true!”

The team dissolved into arguing around you, leaving you and Miss Pauling as the lone outliers. The petite woman stealthily nudged her way through the group of arguing men and Pyro and made her way over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You, uh, you alright?” she asked in a low voice.

“I-” You started in a hoarse whisper, running your hand through your hair, gripping the strands, “I could have been getting fucked this whole time.”

“What?”

You put your head in your hands and let your head smack against your knees. “I have been living on a base with nine mercenaries who have been, apparently, thirsting after me and I didn’t notice. I am a fool, P, a blind, horny fool.”

Miss Pauling awkwardly patted you on the head. “There… there?”

“I’m so stupid!” You bemoaned, “How could this day possibly get any worse?”

CRRRRRACK-BOOM!

Everyone jumped as something slammed against the side door. The top of a utility pole lodged itself inside the doorway, live power lines lashing about like angry snakes as powerful winds surged inside, throwing the wires around. One of the wires was blown towards you and Miss Pauling, and you shoved her back on instinct, eyes widening in terror as a flash of white filled your vision. A sharp, burning sensation rocketed through your body, a metallic taste filling your mouth, before everything went dark.

The world came back to you in a burst of dull blue and gray hues.

A gentle pulse filled your ears, vibrating in your chest until it slowly waned, leaving you sprawled on a concrete floor. You gagged as your stomach turned violently, and you had to push yourself up onto your forearms to avoid choking on your own vomit. You spat, face curling into a disgusted sneer.

Respawn never had left you feeling very good, but these last two times were really starting to make you yearn for a more gentle return to life.

Slowly, through sheer willpower and what little energy you had left, you managed to get to your feet. The air here was much warmer than your previous Respawn location, and it smelled faintly of… apples?

Confused, but determined to find a phone, you hugged the walls for support as you once again navigated an unfamiliar building, hand trailing across the blue corrugated metal. You weren’t afraid this time around, just pissed off. You had died again? Seriously?! You had been so close to home! You could have been getting boned in a few hours!

Okay, well, maybe not that last one, but still!

As you passed a window, something caught your attention. You stopped for a moment, looking out into the, thankfully, clear night. It was still dark, obviously, but you could hear the sound of birds chirping. Morning was approaching, but that wasn’t what was on your mind.

There were lights on somewhere in the distance.

If you were standing in a BLU base, then…

Gritting your teeth, you picked up the pace, making a mental note to thank Medic for giving you all of those shots and vitamins. If he hadn’t, you likely wouldn’t have even been able to walk.

A cool night breeze caressed your face as you stumbled outside, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, missing your blanket. It took a while, but you eventually made your way over to a homely-looking farmstead, adorned in a colour you usually hated to see. Taking as deep a breath as you could manage, you walked up the porch steps and approached the door, pulling open the outer screen door to knock on the solid wood interior door.

You stepped back a fraction as the sound of footsteps approached, your eyes drooping with exhaustion as the adrenaline that came with returning to life began to fade, leaving you with a mix of a pins and needles-esque numbness and an encroaching headache.

The door swung open, and you found yourself looking down the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun.

“Who the hell are-!” the voice of the RED Engineer held the same southern drawl as your Engineer, and his eyes widened in the same adorable way when he was caught off guard.

“Morning, friend.” You greeted, giving the man the best smile you could muster at the moment, “Do you have a phone I could borrow?”

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