#tf2 fanfic

[emilythedog661-tf2]

A Fanfic Idea cover

I might do it later, i just need to think about the story 😋

[crabonfire]

sick mercs (1/3)

characters: offense class

warnings: none, fluff and crack (I think)

note: I hate making things into parts BUUTTT pyros ALONE ended up being super long, so I'm making them based off of class!! and...its 2 am so I should probably be asleep instead of writing anyway. Parts 2 and 3 will feature the other classes, and will be written tomorrow! Cause its late and I'm tired! okay love u

no but why did I make pyros so long 😭 it was a whole fic wtf

reposts and shares appreciated (u///u)<3

♡Scout♡

•When he's sick he's SUPPPERRR dramatic over it cause when he was a kid his ma was super doting and stuff, and since he was the youngest it made sense. But with you he tries to be all suave and tough, not wanting to admit the fever he has is absolutely killing him, oh the runny nose he has? That's just cause...he...ate something spicy. Not cause of a flu, no...

•He makes an effort to not talk or see the team at all today, and weirdly, he only ever gets sick on ceasefire days. It's like his body isn't used to not doing anything and that gives him a chance to do a bunch of stupid stuff, that, in the end, gets him sick.

•So he's stuck in his room. When you or anyone else knock on his door he pretends he's asleep, and sometimes, he really is. But, when you catch him in the kitchen stealing one of Heavy's sandwiches, he's sniffling, his face slightly red (redder than usual) his expression one like a kicked puppy.

•When you confront him about it, he just acts like he's not sick.

"I'm not sick, okay?"

But when you put your foot down, getting him back to bed and getting the right medicine from the medic, he has this certain look on his face. His cheeks are red, probably because of his fever, but, it might also be caused by you.

The moment your voice turns soft, or stern, depending on how kind you wanna be to his stubbornness, his lips curl into a grin, and immediately he whines and melts, acting like his sickness is the end of the world.

"Ah, my head...ohhhh my head. Hurts so bad. Maybe if ya kiss it...I'll feel better." He says, his voice weak as he closes his eyes, shifting in bed like some sort of damsel in distress.

• He'd be real obedient as you give him medicine and stuff, and stare up at you with bright eyes, as if the little fucker wasn't acting so brave about it before. The moment anyone walks in or sees him being doted, he'll push you away (maybe even physically, in panic) cause he's scared to ruin his reputation.

But when they're gone, he'll apologize and cling to you like a parasite. Muttering and mumbling incoherent things for your attention. He's an ass, but he loves you.

• He'd always tell you how much he appreciates you as you stay by his side, his very dizzy and sick brain making him slur his words, that cheeky grin still plastered on his face.

"You care about me...haha."

"You're so sweet, you love me, don't you?"

You know how some people get super weird and sorta high when they're super sick? Yeah that's scout with you.

♡Soldier♡

• Like Scout, absolutely DENIES that he's sick.

"SICKNESS AND DISEASE IS MERELY A HOAX! AN EXCUSE CREATED BY COMMUNISTS TO SPREAD THEIR LIES ABOUT AMERICAN- ACHOO-"

• Entire day there's a gigantic frown on his face, he cannot stop sneezing. He sneezed on Scout, and Scout was convinced that he was gonna die.

Engineer is the first to speak up after seeing the soldier violently sneeze without closing his nose. But, his stubbornness gets in the way and he merely brushes him off. Then, half the team begs you to talk to him. So you do.

"Hey Soldier, uh, you...you're looking a little pale."

"PALE? WELL, I GUESS MY SKIN HAS BEEN LOOKING GOOD TODAY!"

You chuckled, "No, pale in a bad way. And I notice you've been sneezing a bunch, are you feeling okay? Did you catch a cold?"

He frowns, and yet again, denies any accusation that he's sick. It doesn't take long, though, when you convince him to stay in his room (or yours, which he'd prefer) so you could "surprise" him. He takes that as an invitation for something else and was a little disappointed when he realized it was a trick to get him to rest.

"Wait...THIS IS A TRAP! YOU'VE TRAPPED ME! HELP-"

He starts to yell as you take his helmet off. You simply laugh, placing it nearby. "Yeah. I trapped you, and now, I order you to stay in bed while I go get some medicine. Am I clear?"

He scoffs at your command. "And what if I DON'T stay?" He remarked, you frowned. "Then you'll be disappointing all the...Americans that spent so much time curating and- crafting the very medication that keeps us healthy."

You made that shit up on the spot, but you knew whenever you spoke to him like a commander did, he'd always listen. He thought about it for a moment and grumbled in reply;

"Fine."

• He does as you ask, staying completely still in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, occasionally muttering things to himself as if this very action is the worst thing in the world. When you come back, tray in hand with medicine and a glass of water, his expression softens slightly.

You sit down on the bed, he sits up, and as you hand him the medicine, something warm grows in his chest. He stays silent as he takes the medicine reluctantly, before he stares at you with an unreadable expression.

You smile ask what's wrong but he shakes his head. A big grin appears on his face as he realizes something and he chuckles, but he doesn't tell you what he's thinking about.

"Thanks, cupcake."

• You take care of him, keeping a watch on him for a while as you beg him to get some rest for his cold. He agrees but only if you stay with him, and you do. He holds you tightly as he braves through his cold, head nuzzled in your shoulder as your treated like a Teddy bear.

He felt happy. Someone cared for him, and he didn't know why, but that realization made his heart feel full. Not the type of full he'd usually feel after a hard victory, or the type of full he'd feel after messing around with demoman all day, but a type of full he could feel only with you. He really cared for you, and he was honored you cared for him just as much.

♡Pyro♡

• You could honestly never tell pyro was sick. Sometimes they'd spend days with you as normal, very much sick, but they'd never show it. That's also because they had a strong immune system, and only got sick every couple of years or so.

The one time they've ever gotten sick around you, was during the hottest day in Teufort. Everyone was sweating their asses off, so you could imagine how bad it was for them. Having to be around fire, wearing a heavy, thick, fire retardant suit all day? Oh, it was bad.

They sat at the locker room for longer after battle had ended, seemingly staring off into the distance. Everyone else had left, so did you. But when they didn't come out for an hour or so you checked in on them, visibly worried.

"Pi? You okay?"

You saw them, still sitting in the same bench, looking off into the ground. You walked over to them, placing a hand on their shoulder. They jolted, as if awoken from a deep sleep. They turned their head, their breathing was loud in the quiet room, but it was heavy and ragged. You frowned in worry.

"What's wrong?"

• They muffled something even you couldn't understand, their voice was quiet, before they shook their head and got up. They almost stumbled, but you kept their balance. They leaned their head on your shoulder, and you could feel the heavy breaths they exhaled through their mask. You turned to them, placing a hand on their shoulder.

"It's a hot day, huh? Can't be feeling too good especially in that suit of yours."

They mumbled in reply, and you took that as a sign that they must've been real affected by the heat today. "Lets get you to your room, I'll get you a nice cold glass of water, okay?"

• You headed back to their room, allowing them to sit for a bit as you went and got some ice cold water. You sat by, the door locked as they lifted off their mask to take a sip. You could feel the heat they radiated, even from a short distance.

"Pi, I think you might have a fever."

They chugged down the water, before turning to you, lifting their mask back down. They went quiet for a moment before they nodded. You frowned, "Why didn't you say anything?" They shrugged, shaking their head. "Mmh mmhf mmh mmh mmhf mmhf mm mmhf." (I didn't think I was sick at first.)

You sighed, before humming. "I'll go get some medicine, you should probably lie down- maybe take the suit off first. I won't look if it'll make you uncomfortable." You stared at them, waiting for their response. They paused hesitantly, before nodding.

• When you got back, they were in bed, gas mask still on, but now in their tank top and unicorn themed shorts. They didn't show their body often, as they felt insecure of the scars they had. When they saw you, they pulled the blanket up to their chest, which you didn't comment on.

You walked over with a large bottle of water and some medicine, placing it on a nearby table.

"Medic said you just need some rest and a lot of water, so...don't forget to drink."

You didn't quite know what to do with the pyro. They were quiet, which, to you wasn't that unusual. But you could feel the nervousness, and you felt worried, as they didn't seem too good. They murmured a "thank you," staring up at you as you sit by them.

"Do you want me to leave?"

In truth, you didn't want to, and they didn't want you to either. But you didn't want to make them uncomfortable, as the only other times they've showed their body to you were in intimate situations. You didn't want to overwhelm them, but you wanted to take care of them. They shook their head, before mumbling;

"Mm mmhn mmhf mm mmhh mmhf mm mmhn mmhnf mmh." (You don't have to stay if you don't want to.)

"I'll stay for a bit. You need your rest and.. I wanna make sure you're okay."

That sentence could make them melt if the heat wasn't already doing that to them. They let out a hoarse giggle. You always made them swoon, even if the things you said weren't overly romantic. It always meant a lot to them, as they never really had someone who cared.

That noise always made you smile, as you stared down at them. It was silent for a while as you two looked at each other. Even under the mask you could tell they had a smile. You've only ever seen that smile once, and the thought of it makes your heart race. You soon broke the silence, slowly getting up.

"Drink your meds and get some sleep, okay?

• As you left, they couldn't help but smile. They got up to lock the door, before taking off their mask and flopping into bed. Not forgetting to do as you said, they fall fast asleep with you on their mind.

Even in their dreams your their, and even with this small, common gesture of caring for them, they cant help but feel a bit weak in the knees when they think of you. They thought the engineer was sweet, but you? They should call you sugar.

It was the first time they had someone worry so much, the way you frowned at them made their chest tighten, and weirdly, in a reaffirming way. In a way that made them realize they weren't so bad, and they were capable of being cared for.

Maybe they were getting too into it, but they didn't care.

♡♡♡♡

I did not expect pyros to be long. Like I was writing and suddenly as I was looking back I realized how much I was yapping. Shit. Anyway, defense and support classes will be written by tomorrow, probably the one or both. Yay!

[simp999]

Hello! I’m so happy to see that your requests are open~

If it’s okay to ask, I’m currently experiencing serious overworking at one of my two jobs, and tbh TF2 x reader content has been my comfort through it.

Could you have either medic or scout (completely up to you) just being there for an overworked y/n that comes back from their job frustrated and tired?

Asking anonymously cuz I’m nervous lol

Medic x Overworked! Reader

A/N: Hello! Sorry for taking so long my dear, I haven't really been doing requests lately! I hope your jobs are going well, and you aren't still too overworked! I was very much in the mood to write some medic, and your request felt perfect- sorry if it's too short! ^^

Wc: 850

Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You sigh as you shut the door, tempted to sit down and fall asleep right then and there. You manage to drop your bags and completely forget about the kitchen entirely, going straight to your room. Most of the mercs were sitting in their game room playing poker or some card game. For once, Medic was there too. Usually, he's caught up with work or some surgeries, but he wanted to make sure he was there when you came back, expecting some kind of acknowledgment from his beloved.

He wasn't sad that you didn't even seem to notice him- no, he was sad at how exhausted you seemed, and it only became worse by the day. Your shoulders were stiff, back slumped, and those eyebags surely weren't any good. He swiftly made his way over to his lab, grabbing anything he needed and shed his gloves and lab coat, leaving him in his vest.

A soft knock on your door rang out, but there was no response. He carefuly opened it only to find you almost completely out, half stirring as the light from the hallway hit your eyes. He pushed a few things on your side table out of the way so he could place his things down. His brows knit even further together seeing how much of a mess your room was. This couldn't be good for your health. You were about to sit it, finally recognizing the person in front of you. Before you could, he gently caressed your cheek with his thumb and then checked your temperature on your forehead. While gently caressing your skin, he subtly checked your pulse too, then traced his thumb over your lips, checking your breathing. All your vitals were fine, maybe your heart was a bit fast- but you two have come to realize it's just because your heart always raced a bit in his presence.

The first time it happened and he noticed was during a routine checkup- it was cute, really. Right around the time you got together, he planted an absentminded kiss on your forehead right before checking your pulse, and you had to wait a few minutes before even bothering to try again. It didn't calm down all that much because your heart sped up every time you even thought about that kiss, but he managed to get a reading anyway.

Back to the situation at hand. He gently picked up your hand in his large one and began to ask you some questions. How much sleep you've been getting, how much and often you've been eating and drinking water. You knew not to lie as he'd see right through you, and you didn't want to make him unhappy. All of your answers were... not healthy ones, to say the least.

"Do you think you'd be able to eat a bit right now, or is food too tough?"

"My legs are too tired to-"

"Not what I asked, Liebe."

Ah.. was he gonna go get you something? What a sweetheart. You smiled and nodded, and he asked if he could leave just for a moment.

He found you once again resting with your eyes closed. This time you weren't almost knocked out, just waiting patiently for him. He brought you some fruit cut into cute little shapes- stars, hearts,- he really is adorable. He placed the plate on your lap before eyeing you up and down- you were still in your work outfit. While you ate, he walked over to where you kept your clothes. You gave him a questionning look before he pull out your most comfortable pijamas; some he gave you a while back.

Once you were done eating, leaving a few pieces, he helped you onto the ledge of the bed. He helped you take off your clothes with such gentleness, buttoning up your pijama top and letting you pull your cozy pants on. All of this was done purely out of affection and kindness and you felt nothing but safe and comfortable with him- nothing sexual whatsoever. He offered you a "warm" smile as he adjusted the collar of your top. (He's not that good at smiling but you've learned to love that small quirk. You knew what his intent was.)

He helped tuck you in and grabbed another leftover piece of fruit to bring to your lips after he did. Back to caressing your skin and gently tracing shapes all over your arms, collarbone, upper chest- it didn't take much to get you all sleepy, so it was definetly doing its job.

"Ich liebe dich, mein lieblingsengel."

You groggily answered him, just below a whisper;

"Ich liebe... dich auch..."

He melted at the sight before him. He adjusted your hair, pushing a few strands away from your forehead.

He never liked that you had a job on top of being a mercenary- being a merc was tough enough on the body and mental health as is. But that's why he's there.

To be your doctor,- to be the one to take care of you.

.

.

.

Mar.4.24

[fruit-teeth]

Ahhhhh I haven’t updated my fic in like 3-4 months!!!! Cringe on my part!!! Don’t worry I’m working on it, I promise…lots been going on…anyway here’s some silly out of context memes based on said fic as always (click for better quality)

[typingatlightspeed]

TF2 Fanfic - Real

Medic's spicy dreams about Heavy cause him a bit of consternation. Meanwhile, Heavy needs the answers to a few questions before he makes his move. He's confident in the answer he'll recieve, however. Medic has just a moment of trouble believing that this time, it's not just his brain being the way it is.

A gift for the wonderful @poopyboiman! Sorry it took a bit! This past week has been busy af with the larp and work afterward. <3 I borrowed just a touch of your Medic headcanon re: him having psychosis. I hope it's tastefully done, and please lmk if it's not, I don't wanna be shitty by accident, yanno? Thank you so much again, and I hope you enjoy!

Ao3 Link! It actually works now cause somehow I fucked it up and didn't realize til now! OTL

---------

Heavy charged into Medic's office, slamming the door open. Determination was written across his stern, handsome features as he strode with purpose across the space until he reached the desk. He slammed his hands down on its metal surface, leaning forward into Medic's personal space. The doctor looked up at him, his heart leaping in his chest in a mixture of surprise, fear, and utter, animal lust. Heavy was dangerous. He knew it well, but here, the giant's glacial-blue eyes upon him, looking down almost imperiously, it made that fact all the more stark.

"Doktor," Heavy spoke, his voice a low rumble that fairly hummed through Medic's entire body. "Tired of games. Tired of teasing. Tired of flirting. I do not care for this, so I will tell you plain: make love to me."

Medic jawed dumbly at the air, his words leaving him, his voice unable to come, his body frozen. His deepest desires come true, fantasies on the cusp of realization, and he couldn't even move. He stared up at Heavy with wide eyes, near-hyperventilating as he tried to respond.

Heavy's brow furrowed at the doctor's silence, his face twisting into a grimace of determination. With a flare of his nostrils he swept everything off of the desk with one mighty paw and took hold of Medic by his coat, hefting him onto the desktop like he were light as air. He closed in, his nose brushing Medic's, lips so close he could feel their heat on his own. "Kiss me."

Medic did. And soon he was pinned beneath Heavy's bulk, his hands running over his body, touching everything they could, tearing at his clothes as his tongue pushed into Medic's mouth, their breaths puffing hotly together, the doctor's hands slipping under Heavy's shirt to thread fingers through the dense, fluffy hair that covered his chest and belly.

One of Heavy's hands slipped under the curve of Medic's back, lifting him, letting them grind together despite the creaks of protest coming from the metal desk.

"Oh Gott, Heavy!" Medic cried, arching against the massive man.

"Gott—" Medic snorted, his face nearly slamming into the desk as it slipped from his hand, where his cheek and chin had been resting as he dozed. Medic shook his head blearily and tried to regain his bearings, looking around. Where was Heavy? Why was he in his chair? What time was it?

Medic sighed and huffed out a curse, looking down at the paperwork in front of him. He'd fallen asleep while going over statistics from the last quarter's respawn records. Again. With a yawn and a stretch, he frowned as his spine let out a series of loud pops and a few crackles. He'd been slumped there for who knew how long, and was going to pay for it with a sore back the rest of the day.

He'd much rather be sore in other places, he thought, thinking back to his dream. Just when they were getting to the good part, too. He shook his head. If only he'd be lucky enough for something like that to happen in reality.

He sighed dreamily, picking up a small scrap of paper and crumpling it idly. Could he really blame himself? Heavy was a perfect specimen! Handsome, intelligent, clever, just a bit silly, and very, very large. Medic was no small man, so to meet another man so much larger than himself made a very immature yet very animal part of his brain light up. Heavy was just so... big.

Medic giggled a little to himself at the thought, picturing the giant picking him up like a blushing bride with little effort. The thought sent a giddy thrill through him. To be manhandled with such ease...

He adjusted his trousers a bit and fought to turn his thoughts to something less physically frustrating. After all, he could handle that when he was back in his quarters later. For now, he needed to find a good stopping point in his actual work before—

"Doktor?"

Medic's eyes shot wide open as he looked up, almost startled by the sudden voice in the room. He was used to sudden voices, of course, but rarely ones so relevant to his current train of thought. He scrubbed at his chin, hoping there was no drool dried there from his accidental nap, and let out a nervous titter, communicating his surprise. Heavy stood at the door, the giant's expression as soft as his neutral expression could be, a gentle warmth coloured by just a bit of trepidation as he realized he'd startled the other man.

"Sorry, should have knocked. I am bothering you?" Heavy asked, courteous but not particularly worried. It was rare that Medic wasn't pleased to invite him in, even if he were busy.

Medic waved at the air as if dispersing the idea like it were a foul odor. "Absolutely not, my friend. Please, come in! I was just going over the respawn records for this quarter."

"Administrator still wants you to do this?" Heavy asked, closing the door behind him and trundling into the room proper.

"Ach, ja. Ever since that one match where the respawn system just kept spewing out raw biomass instead of Scout, she's had me watching the data under a microscope."

"Engineer found out what was wrong, didn't he?"

"Ja, something about an arbitrary code execution accidentally performed by Scout during the match causing the temporary effect data to overflow with garbage data, making the system that calls respawn profiles to crash. He said that garbage data was why it was just ejecting biomass, starting and stopping the process with no profile to build from once the materials were loaded."

Heavy stared at Medic.

"I, largely, have no idea what that means either," Medic chuckled.

"Engineer. He speak English, but those words mean nothing in that order."

Medic giggled at that. "I do not think we would understand it even if we were raised speaking it."

Heavy hefted a short laugh at that. "Sad you have to read data. Should be his job."

"He has the raw numbers side. I merely have to ensure the respawn profiles are accurate and active. He has it worse, I assure you."

"This is fine," Heavy shrugged, approaching the desk. He laid one hand atop its edge, and Medic's eyes lingered on it. He remembered his dream, and Heavy sweeping everything off of the desk in a clatter and flutter, dramatic and romantic, and his heart sped up at the mere thought. If only.

"So," Medic said, trying to keep his voice even as his imagination decided to overact, "did you need me for something?"

Heavy nodded, just barely, with an almost affected casualness. "Yes. Curious. On field today, BLU Demoman say that he is... shagging your wife?"

Medic shook his head ruefully. Such an immature insult. Though calling the other team Frauleins was probably not much better, really. "Ach, ja. Shagging means—"

"I know what this means. Sniper and Demoman say it much. I learn from context," Heavy explained. "No. I want to know: you have wife?" He lifted an eyebrow, looking almost skeptical as he asked, like he knew the answer and couldn't believe otherwise.

Medic shook his head with a giggle. "Me? A wife? Hoo, nein, nein," he said, waving a hand to dismiss the very thought. "It was simply an insult appropriate for a middle-aged man, I suppose. I never married, no."

Heavy nodded, slowly. "This surprises me."

"It does?" Medic cocked his head to the side. He hadn't been aware he would have given that sort of impression. "How so?"

"You said. You are middle-aged man."

"So are you, my friend," Medic teased with a smile, which made Heavy's lip quirk in amusement.

"True. But you are also handsome doktor. Women would throw selves at you."

Handsome? In spite of himself, a soft pinkness rose to Medic's cheeks. It was flattering, of course, but rather surprising to hear his friend say it. "Ja, well," he fussed with the papers on his desk to try and deflect a bit, "mein work and dedication to it tends to drive away any interested parties."

Interested parties. Interesting word choice. Heavy nodded softly again. "So you have had no time for love?"

"Eheh, not at all. I've found a few who've caught my eye over the years, but very few can handle my line of work, and my passion for medical science. Generally, graphic discussions of open-heart surgery tend to be a turn-off for most romantic partners."

"Fools," Heavy grunted. "It is your passion."

"Exactly!" Medic replied with a grin. "There are few things in the world more intimate, more fascinating! Why should I not share it with the one I love? Ach, but even the mention tends to make people... squeamish."

"You operate on me often," Heavy mused, smiling a bit.

Medic's blush grew a bit stronger. "Eheh, yes, well—"

Heavy's smile grew a bit broader, a bit more conspiratorial. "I have another question, if you have time."

Grateful for the change of topic, Medic perked up. "Of course, mein Freund."

Heavy leaned into Medic's space just a bit. "I want to know if you are busy after work all of week."

Medic reeled back a bit, thinking. "Today is..."

"Tuesday."

"Tuesday, ja. So Thursday I have to tune-up Spy's uberheart device and give Soldier his next dose of rabies treatment. Friday, Demoman needs another new liver..."

"Tomorrow?"

"Wednesday? I...don't think I have anything scheduled, no."

"Good. Come with me to town? We can get coffee."

Medic's eyes went wide in horror. "Coffee? Are we out already? I just got some last week! I swear, if Mundy went through our entire supply already—"

"No, Doktor, no," Heavy sighed, shaking his head with a rueful chuckle. "We can get coffee. Together."

Medic stared, his brain refusing to shift gears and properly comprehend what he thought Heavy had just said.

"On a date," Heavy clarified, holding back a laugh. Medic was adorable when he was confused, especially with how rarely yet dramatically it happened.

"A date?" Medic echoed, his heart leaping to action. He met Heavy's eyes, wrinkles at their corners creasing as he smiled fondly down at him. He was so handsome. Too handsome. Medic looked down at the crumpled piece of paper he'd been playing with and looked back to Heavy. Was he real? Was this just a particularly complicated audio-visual hallucination? It wouldn't be the first. This was a lot for something that wasn't real. But not impossible. He flicked the piece of paper at Heavy, heaving out a relieved sigh when it bounced off of the confused giant's belly.

A broad smile crossed Medic's too-white teeth, and he looked back up the giant, eyes full of hope. "A date? You are serious?"

"Of course," Heavy shrugged. "We are good friends."

Medic frowned. "Friends."

"So I think: maybe we can be more than friends?" Heavy clarified. "You tell me you are single. You avoid saying women when talking about love life. You tell me surgery you do on me is very intimate." He leaned further into Medic's space, placing both palms atop the desk and dominating the space. "You are very handsome, Doktor."

Medic swallowed hard, his heart racing, his cheeks red, his trousers once again growing uncomfortable as Heavy leaned over the desk, grinning so handsomely and bringing back thoughts of his dream. Even if this were just some multi-layered wet dream, he hoped to never awaken. But here, with the giant so close, looking so self-assured, Medic was reasonably sure this was truly, wholly real. And he felt dizzy for it.

"So what do you say, Doktor?"

Medic swallowed hard. Playing it cool was for suckers. "I say why wait for after work?" He leaned in, bringing their faces close, challenging Heavy. "I'll make us coffee in the morning."

Heavy quirked an eyebrow, booming out a delighted laugh as Medic stood from his seat and swept the desktop clean with his hand, sending papers flying everywhere. Soon, Medic's back slammed onto the desktop, and Heavy was atop him.

[mehidktbh]

Spiders

Pairing: Mick "Sniper" Mundy x Fem!Reader

Summary: A hot summer day attracts all types of insects to get into the base, out of the hot sun and humid air. Only to be faced with their death by someone not so keen on them.

Warning: Swearing, the killing of a spider? Ngl this is just something I threw together before I slept. 🤷🏼‍♀️

A/N: Wanted to make this before I write my next Simon Riley fic (thanks to your votes). But this also came from today when I found a little Black Widow Spider in my shoe. Still living in Australia I cannot with any insects. (Also it's canon that Sniper has a feat of Spiders, I was there)

How much longer of this humid sun did you have to go through? At first, you thought that the summer would stay when needed, but no. You've got months ahead of you, knowing you're going to wake up in a pile of slickly unpleasant sweat every day. Even worse is the lousy air conditioning in the base, it's been fixed so many times it runs as low as it can. Just as bad as the air circulation too.

So here you are, slouched over in the main room, the leather seat sticks to your bare skin the second you'd get up. You'd be carrying the whole couch along with you. Scout sits next to you, his loud huffing is getting annoying, and one of his arms is slung on the back of the couch. Just touching your head but you're too into heatstroke to realise he's nearly touching your hair.

Sniper sits next to you too, a chair for himself as he spreads fully out. His usual smirk rests on his face as he casually looks over to the two of you. "Gettin' comfortable 'ere?" Scout slowly looks over at him, a scowl on his face. Usually, he'd fling himself across the room, both hands probably strangling the poor bushman but all he can do is roll his eyes.

"How abou' 'cha Y/N?" A weak smile slowly appears on your face, and you flick him a thumbs up. Only he sees right through your smile. But he nods sharply, flicking his attention to the TV. To him, an interesting documentary on animals hibernating. How different animals do it in different seasons and how bears survive through the cold season catches his attention more than you and Scout combined.

But you're too busy looking over at the small old-fashioned fridge. You begin to wonder how cold it really is in there, usually, the beers don't get nearly as cold enough to drink comfortably but still, that's better than nothing. So gradually you start to get up, the leather breaking apart from your skin makes you cringe but it dies out over the TV.

"Bears can be woken easily during a mild spell of weather, but may not have enough energy to survive the rest of the winter. Which is why-" "AHH!"

Your inarticulate and high-pitched scream easily overpowers the TV, even with its high volume on it's enough to echo throughout the whole base. "Holy- What?" Scout's Boston accent quickly appears behind your terrified figure. Sniper also sprints right behind him to reach you from across the room. Looking over your shoulder to see what's got you shaken up and pointing at.

Expecting to see another head or organ which Medic decided to leave unattended in the fridge or on the kitchen counter. But instead, he only spots a little Black Widow Spider sitting unsettled on the counter. Eating away at the bread crumbs left behind from Heavy's sandvich.

"Kill it, Scout, before it kills us!" You frantically order Scout, only he groans in annoyance. "Jesus Y/N! I thought you found someone fucking dead" Your hands shake his shoulders back and forth quickly. "Well, you're about to find my body if you don't-" Before you can say anything he leaves swiftly. Ignoring your pleas as he tiredly walks back to the couch.

Looking over to Sniper you give him the same look in your eyes, a plead. "Pfft, watch an' learn" You watch as Sniper leans over to the counter more. The movement of his arm quickly alerts the pernicious red spider as it begins to move quickly. A yelp nearly leaves Sniper's mouth as he backs away instantly.

"You're scared?" You ask not out of laughter... well maybe. But more because you generally thought he'd be used to Spiders by now. Living in the outback much mean he's dealt with them thousand times before, right? "Nah'm not." His usual down-to-earth and easygoing face now flashes bright red either from the humid air or is now because you mention his (unknowingly) fear of spiders?

But before you can mutter out a single word he reaches over the counter again, his eyes glued to the Spider chilling there. His whole hand flexed and tense as he quickly snatched a tissue from the box. The sudden sound sends the Spider flying in his direction. It sends him flying backwards, his hands coming out in front of him like he was going to fistfight the insect.

You on the other hand you're now snickering softly, the fear you felt before going away as you watch Sniper unravel in front of you. He quickly catches onto your laughing, a glaring cold look replaces his scared expression as he pushes past you. His shoulders square as he swiftly squishes the spider under the tissue, a gross sound following.

"See, m' not scared of spiders..."

[closeted-calliope]

I know I never post fic anymore but I’m in dire need of fic prompts

My girlfriend (oh yeah I have a gf now btw) got me into team fortress 2 and I have a feral need to write some PyroScout/flashfire stuff but I don’t know what these two would do together

So yeah either reply to this or send me an ask bc I am ✨desperate✨

Thankies

[general-marzipan]

Another tf2 fanfic art thing i did for my oneshot :p (cropped cause i absolutely hate the other pyro drawing i did)

[cupidsdescendant]

loved the sniper x y/n smut you wrote!! please write more smut with him, he’s adorable🥺❤️

perhaps a part two?? :D

HAI ANON!! TYSM I'M SO HAPPY YOU LOVE IT!!! I will be writing more smut with him but the part two I created doesn't have any ;w; I apologize about that! I totes will make more smut with him in the future tho!!

Feverish Lust (PART 2)

*listening to Pinkies Brew as I write this lol* Part 2 to the first Smut fic I wrote My heart is warmed to the core knowing people enjoyed this <3 thank you so much for the feedback!!

It's been 4 days since the "incident". The heat had lifted and everything was at a reasonable temperature. The routine of a cool, sunny day had returned but the heat between Y/N and Sniper lingered. Sniper had been high-strung ever since and tried to avoid Y/N in any way he could. Dodging her during fights, changing his positions, and even telling the mercs to keep her away from him. Every night since then he'd lay on the floor with his legs spread spacing out to the idea of experiencing what Y/N did for him again albeit changing parts of it to fit his fantasies. Thoughts of Y/N crawling to him and slowly unbuttoning his shirt, teasing him by pulling his zipper down with her teeth, seeing her chest exposed in that dirty position...it drove him mad. Sniper never masturbated to it though. He found it to be ill-mannered and disrespectful to pleasure himself to the thought of another person without their consent. Instead, he let himself get hot and bothered by it before snapping himself to reality and going to bed.

Y/N hadn't seen him since that day and she worried. There was no sign of him and she feared he hated her. She rested her body on the wall of the Medbay, waiting for her annual checkup with Medic "Did I go overboard...?" Her heart sank. She liked him for a long, long time and a pang of guilt stung her, realizing she never confessed her feeling and that was both their first intimate moment with each other. Y/N's face was warm, embarrassment crept its way in and she put a hand over her mouth trying to hold back anything she could say.

Mornings rose and nights fell as been 2 weeks since Sniper and Y/N had talked nor interacted. The guilt had eaten at her. Her performance levels had decreased during matches and she'd become more fatigued. It felt strange seeing this from her, considering she was one of the mercenaries that had been incredibly ambitious and competitive. Soon enough, everyone else started to notice. On the first night of the 3rd week, Y/N stayed in her room staring at the wall and imagining the possibility of an alternate path. "We could've talked...I could've just talked. I could've, I should've-ugh." Even trying to find a solution to fixing the past never seemed right. Y/N was jolted out of her thoughts by three forceful knocks. She hastily got out of bed and asked in a panicked tone, "Who's there?"

"Y/N. It is Heavy." She took a deep breath and exhaled a sigh of relief "Doors open."

Heavy grabbed the chair from Y/N's desk and quietly positioned himself while she observed him. "Do you need something, Heavy?" Y/N leaned against the wall, folding her arms. Heavy let out a quiet grunt as he gazed around her room. "We are worried for Y/N. You stay in room for very long now." Y/N appeared puzzled. She felt flattered by the concern "we" had shown toward her. She had never imagined that the mercenaries paid any attention to her actions. "Really?" "Yes. They think you did something to Bushman. He is also very quiet. Gone more than usual... " "You did something to Bushman" Y/N was angered by Heavy's statement. "WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!" she exclaimed defensively, feeling her joints stiffen and her eyes scrunch up. As a result, Y/N's mind was polluted with negative thoughts. "They were talking about you?!" "I bet they were judging, they probably all think you're a whore, that you're dirty. DIRTY!" Her heart felt like it was about to burst. Heavy's eyes widen and his eyebrows compressed to a worried-like arch "There is no reason to be angry. Heavy was saying what the team was saying! Please do not be angry at Heavy." The atmosphere was thick with a palpable silence, leaving him in a state of uncertainty regarding the direction of the conversation or the appropriate course of action to take.

A hiccup escaped Y/N's mouth as tears formed on the surface of her tear ducts. An intense wave of emotions struck, her head pounding forming an instant headache, making it hard to suppress her feelings. "No, Heavy-! I..I did do something! But I-" As much as she wanted to pour everything out she still tried to contain a torrent of emotions within herself. "I-f-feel-" She clenched her teeth and she breathed through her mouth. Heavy got up and walked slowly to Y/N trying not to scare her and gave her a huge, warm, and loving bear hug. He placed a finger on his lips and hushed, signaling for her to be quiet. As she cried, she felt the vibrations of his stomach beneath her, seeking comfort in his embrace. She held on tightly as she hiccuped the last she could at the moment "I-I should've...I'm sorr-y..never done that, Heavy, I wish I-" Y/N was shortly cut off: "Shhh...It's okay, Heavy is here. It is okay, do not worry."

The hours passed as Heavy kept a close watch on Y/N, relieving her of her pain and sorrows. Heavy learning her deepest secret was shocking but he didn't let what he learned changed his perception of Y/N's character and her as a woman. The two sat down on Y/N's bed after standing for so long and slouched over her bed frame. He gently patted her back as she rested her head on his forearm, with her hair tousled and her face still flushed. Her lips and eyelids were puffy and her eyes were visibly low on energy. "You should talk to bushman." Her eyes traced Heavy up to his eyes that have been staring at the wall. "He will do you no harm."

"It's not as easy as you think it would be. I don't even know where he is." "He is not in tower?" "no." "Then I will bring him to you." Heavy got up and stretched his back and shoulders. Y/N watched as he placed his hand on the doorknob, about to open it. She raised her voice. "Heavy, please don't get involved. I don't really want-" But before she could finish her sentence, the door closed, leaving Y/N alone.

"Where are you taking me, mate." Sniper's boots kicked the dirt as he followed Heavy. His eyes were glued to the floor and he kept his hands in his pockets. "You will find out when we get there," Heavy said assertively. Y/N nervously tapped her knee, feeling a sense of panic wash over her. Despite having a fully written script, she was unsure of what to say or do next. "Please don't come please don't come please don't come" The door creaked open from the outside as Heavy's figure appeared. "Y/N." Sniper was caught off guard. He stood silent behind Heavy as he pressed his thumb and index finger against the fabric inside his jeans. He needed to find something to ground him, to make him feel less nervous but with each pinch, he realized that he was really within inches of the girl he tried to hide from.

"You two talk now." Heavy walked to the side to reveal the quivering Sniper and he walked behind, closing the door. They both stared in opposite directions of the room, trying to avoid any possible eye contact. Sniper and Y/N let themselves soak in the silence and didn't make any obvious want to talk. She picked away at the skin on her thumbs, he ripped the pocket in his jean from all the friction between his fingers and left a hole where he dug his finger in to expand it. Y/N took out her paper from her pocket. It was folded into a small square, and the sides of it were chaffed from her playing with it. The paper wasn't moist or wet but because of her intense anxiety, her entire body was hot which made the paper limp with drops of sweat. She opened it and her thumbs dented it, her expression changed to regret. When she wrote it at the time it seemed like everything was perfect, that everything she had to say to the man was written confidently but now that she sees him standing in front of her, Y/N had no idea how to get her words out. It was so easy in her head.

Sniper's head was throbbing, too many thoughts had cluttered his voice of reason. At any point, he could blurt out something but he didn't know the effect of what it would do. He couldn't grasp a single thought for long enough to make out something that would be beneficial to Y/N. He couldn't think of anything. "Start with something simple. Something that will start something."

"Hiya, Sheila." Y/N looked up to see a guilty-looking Sniper, he bit his lip ever so slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed. Y/N just gazed at him. Nothing escaped her lips and she didn't reply, she just stared. She let the atmosphere stay silent. She felt hurt by his response because it took her back to that day. The sounds around them control the conversation, the tapping of the water falling down a pipe, Scout's voice bouncing outside with energy, and the wind flowing in through the window. How was she going to respond to that? What was she going to say?? How would she even say it? "I'm sorry." She said after what felt like ages. "I'm sorry, Mundy." She stared deeply at the paragraphs she wrote in her letter, all the question marks surrounding sentences, and the last thing she wrote. I'm sorry

"Don't be... Uhm-." The clicking of his shoes grew closer to Y/N and she looked up. He stared back at her, his eyes softer. "I should be sorry. I'm sorry I ..tried to ignore you." He averted his eyes to the wall. "I'm sorry I was, I didn't, I didn't know how I was going to approach you after that. It changed my feelings for you a lot." A light pink flushed his cheeks. Only he really knew what changed during that time, his fantasies. Y/N got up and straightened her back, she let go of the paper and she looked him in the eyes. Y/N confidently raised her voice

"Mundy, I'm in love with you. I've been for a long time," she continued but her confidence lessened when her head computed her next sentence, "and. and well-..well, I wish. I wish-..I wish I didn't do that. It was nice, but I wish I told you how I felt beforehand." After expressing what she finally meant to say all along her words stringed on perfectly, "I want to get to know you, I want to love you. I want to experience things how they're supposed to be before I do anything like that with you. I love you, Mundy." Y/N grabbed both of his hands and squeezed them with hers "Let me experience love with you before any kind of lust."

Sniper's eyes fell into Y/N's. He stared at her. Her eyes were wistful and bright. He had no words. He took his hand and rested it on her cheek, resting his lips onto hers and pushing his upper lip. They closed his eyes and let the sensations bury any doubt they had, their mouths dancing with one another and taking in each other with each readjustment. They opened their eyes, both of them having their chest beat with affection. Passion dripped from one another's mouths and they took pleasure in looking at each other afterwards. Y/N could feel him stare into her soul.

"I love you too, Y/N"

this took me a week to write ;-; hope it was too yall's liking!! I'm sorry this wasn't smut, I know it was wanted (I'll write another story with it dw ;) but I really think it was important for this to be addressed IMO ) Again I love you all, and thank you so much for the support. This blog means the absolute world to me!!! Mwah! GG

[thisfanisgonesorry]

Feel free to ignore this request/ Would you write spy x reader having casual sex with him verbally teasing her because of the age gap and her daddy kink 🤧

i am so fucking sorry that it took me so long but i also had NO idea how to start it, to make up for that fact, its rlly fucking long. im not really happy with it but i feel bad if i keep this in drafts any longer. its mostly rlly sweet so i hope it has enough teasing for you. heavily inspired by my heart belongs to daddy + some other songs similar to that. (btw if a hookup kisses your forehead, hes a piece of shit, its only hot when dilfs do it), 

tags: smut duh, hes daddy lol so,, hookup/one night stand. age gap obviously. lightly lolita inspired so its up for interpretation if this is a felony or not. ur getting seduced because,, obviously, maybe a virgin? maybe not? kind of implied ur just inexperienced compared to him, unhappy ending oops, soft sex but he gets a little aggro, panty snatcher 9000

tbh hes hard to write dialogue for but i <3 him. (also i wrote enough dialogue for a part 2 except my brain stopped working so i had to cut it short) (beta didnt read all of it so hopefully its okay)

;;

“You have to admit, it’s a little exciting, no?”

“You could say that.” I grinned anxiously as he held my chin to make me look up at him.

“Not a soul can know about this, ma cherie.” He said, lightly kissing my lips. I leaned softly into his touch as he spoke. “I hope you understand.”

And deep down, it was beyond easy to tell that he meant that in more than one way, almost like he had a handful of reasons to not speak about this, for no one to find out. He could spoon feed any excuse to keep this hush hush.

“Yeah, I know.” I swallowed thickly. “You’re very handsome.” 

“And you are very beautiful.” He smiled.

“Thank you.” I reached up to touch his face, though hesitated because of his mask.

“Go on.” He whispered.

He took my hand in his and placed it against his cheek, the fabric was soft and well cared for, his jawline felt sharp under the touch and I could only imagine what he properly looked like without the damn thing on. The soft fabric enticed me to stroke his cheek softly which he, after a few seconds of processing, leaned into with a soft hum, clearly interested by how much I was mesmerised by such a simple item. The way we paused for this one moment of tenderness.

“Can I take it off?”

“No.” He said somewhat sternly before softening, he stayed in thought momentarily.

My hand left his face, meeting on his shoulders and both hands trailing down the front of his suit, feeling the expensive fabric under my touch. I nodded softly in understanding, though he could sense the disappointment.

“Maybe another time, ma cherie, right now, this is for both of our safety.” His eyebrows knitted together, and it was clear to tell that he wasn’t happy about it either though, admittedly, the idea of there being another time in the future was almost exciting enough to make up for it.

“No, I understand.” I spoke, not telling the entire truth and it was somewhat evident in my voice that it was, in fact, not okay.

“I want this to be wonderful, my dear. Please don’t be upset.”

I looked around his fancy hotel room, not booked for me but it was still an honour to be invited here, the last hour and a half is a blur and all I’d rather focus on is the man over twice my age standing in front of me.

“This is wonderful.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around my torso, pulling me close to him and taking us to a very fancy couch in the large hotel room with a faux fireplace. All we need now is a bearskin rug. We basically flopped onto the couch with little to no grace and I was almost fully prepared for whatever will come next.

A short laugh escaped both of us at the short tumble. He repositioned us to sit somewhat awkwardly with him hovering above me as he began to gently kiss and nip at my neck. I leaned against the armrest, the harsh wood pressing into my back.

“You are... heaven.” He spoke, unsure if he was using the right words as he continued to kiss my flesh softly, despite his hands being harshly digging into my hips. “You are perfection.” He whispered, trailing off slightly, losing himself in his thoughts.

“Y’think so?” I breathed.

“How does it feel to be with a man who wants you?” He lightly teased as his fingers slowly lingered off my hips and under the hem of my dress, bunching it up as his hands returned to their original place.

“It’s intoxicating.” I admitted, saying it almost too quickly.

“You are intoxicating.” He smugly smiled, pressing a strong kiss on my lips. “You like getting drunk on a man’s love.” He began to slowly analyse. God, he must be good at his job.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A little, but there’s nobody here but me and you in this big and safe room.”

I felt a little embarrassed by his comments, simply reaching up to unbutton his suit, pulling the tie loose and unbuttoning the white shirt. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it on a nearby chair, letting my hands take their sweet time on undressing him. The mask was bunched around his neck slightly, hanging somewhat loosely around his collarbones which was usually covered by the neckline of his suit.

“You just love feeling desired, don’t you?”

I stared up at him, his words bounced around in my brain like an infection as I continued to unbutton his shirt. “Yes.” I confessed, though he was already well aware.

“A beautiful girl like yourself deserves appreciation.” The way he said ‘girl’ slowly dripped off his tongue and floated in the air. He was mocking me.

“Thank you, daddy.” I acted boldly, dipping my toes in the water as I wrapped my arms loosely around him, his shirt now only halfway unbuttoned.

He froze, completely still, staring down at me with an unreadable face, and all he did for a few moments was stare with a slightly agape mouth before finally letting out a small laugh. 

“That.. was a surprise. You’re really into this. You’re not afraid at all.” He spoke somewhat calmly but with a sense of condescension in his words. We both leaned closer to each other, thoughts running wild.

“C’mon, Daddy.” My lips ghosted over his, my hands trailing down his torso again and landing on his hips, he took a sharp inhale and stared down at me with his half-lidded eyes and a now clenched jaw.

“Merde.” He cursed quietly. “Don’t.”

He quietly snaked his hand around my throat loosely, not applying any pressure but more as a blank threat to stop pushing him and to distance my face slightly away from his.

“I’ll stop.” I lied through my teeth and he furrowed his eyebrows at it, knowing it to be a lie.

His lips twitched, threatening to turn into a smile though he tried to remain stone-faced as he contemplated what I deserved. He kept one hand around my throat as the other stayed glued to my hip, he began rubbing small circles with his thumb as he thought.

“You are in very experienced hands.” He finally said, leaning in to kiss me again.

“What are you gonna do?” I asked sweetly.

“What would you like me to do? What would make you happy?” He spoke slowly with a deep reverence, the way the words fell from his mouth was strangely erotic but you know what they say about french accents.

I took a moment too long to answer, so he freely slid his hands into my panties and felt his way to my clit, much faster than anyone previously. I closed my eyes softly and he could read the surprise written on my face. He began to move slowly, his mouth slightly opening as he watched me keenly.

“God.” I breathed out.

“How do you feel? Do you like being with a man instead of a boy?” He smirked slightly, moving his hand slightly faster and releasing my throat from his grasp. “You must not be used to being treated so kindly, for someone to desire you, to wish to ravish you, to enrapture.” He rambled on, enjoying the view beneath him.

“Never had anything like this before.”

“This is what a real man does. We take care of our women, make sure they’re happy.” He took a shaking breath as he watched every move I made, his hand moved from my throat to gently stroke the side of my face and pet my hair. “We make them feel beautiful, tell me, do you feel beautiful?”

“Yes, I do.” I tried to maintain eye contact and despite the slow pace, he felt really good.

“A mature man does whatever his woman wants.” He hummed. “We have big, strong arms that can hold them up. We can catch them when they fall. Do you enjoy being treated this way, little girl?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He furrowed his eyebrows sternly, despite knowing what would happen when he called me a little girl. It was so clear that it was getting under his skin in such an interesting way, one that I’ve never seen before. “Let me see you.”

I blinked momentarily at his question, which seemed more like a statement, before it clicked. “Oh, yes.” I spoke nervously as I lifted my hips for him. 

He still looked mostly emotionless as he slowly peeled away the black panties and also threw it to the side which will be a bitch to find a little later. He admired it for a moment, both hands on my hips, holding me from squirming away and I felt like shrinking under his gaze. He spat harshly on the view. “Such a pretty chatte, ma petite fille.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled softly as his fingers lowered and rested right there where I needed him, threatening to dip into me, rubbing small circles around the hole. I was clenching around nothing, wanting him inside me, letting out small gasps at the feeling, and he rolled his eyes sarcastically, placing his hand over my mouth as he pushed his long fingers deep inside me. I let out a muffled moan at his actions, staring up at him wide eyed. “Don’t you dare say what you’re thinking.” He said sternly, trying very hard to dissuade me as he slowly lowered his hand, resting it gently around my throat.

I nodded at his words. “Fuck.” I whined. 

“How would you like me to finger you, ma cherie?” I blinked at his question, it was unexpected to hear. He quirked an eyebrow before rolling his eyes again. “Do I need to show you?”

“Yes.” I responded, slightly embarrassed. He switched between two distinct styles then tilted his head for a response. I took a second to catch my breath and think. “Uh, second one?” 

“Anything for you.” He praised as he slowly moved his incredibly and unnaturally talented fingers.

He slowly began to amp it up and I let out pitiful gasps and moans as he went to work, cold-faced besides the occasional smile which he’d try to hide. I wanted to writhe and scream against his touch, feeling electrified.

“Feels good?” He asked softly, leaning forward and kissing my forehead.

“Yeah, it feels really good.” I spoke, biting my lip to restrain myself from calling him daddy.

His free hand fell from my throat and tried to undo the buttons on his shirt but struggled due to his limitations, he withdrew his hand and stuck it in his mouth briefly before continuing to shrug off his shirt. He grinned at the sweetness before placing his hands on my hips, pulling me closer to him so I was no longer awkwardly leaning against the armrest and laying flat down on the couch.

He had shallow breathing as he began to unbuckle his belt and lower his pants and boxers. I kinda took him for a briefs guy. Nonetheless, he attempted to strip himself from his remaining clothes. It was a little awkward to watch admittedly.

I ran my hands up and down his toned stomach momentarily as he shuffled his pants just low enough for him to comfortably free his erection, giving it a few languid strokes before aligning it to me.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbled as he pushed in, slowly at first but quick to bottom out to get it over and done with. “Mon dieu, ma petite fille.”

“Ah, fuck—” I cursed out as I grabbed onto his arm harshly at the feeling.

“Hey, Y/n.” He hushed. “Shh, you’re alright.” He spoke through gritted teeth, clearly trying to restrain himself in the slightest.

I nodded. “I’m alright.” I held onto him harshly, still trying to get used to the size.

“God, you’re so warm and soft.” He panted, groaning quietly.

“Mhm. ‘m not tight?” I breathed slowly.

“You feel just like a woman should.” I clenched around him and he let out a guttural groan. “Merde, mais tu es serré, si serré.” He rambled, his hands harshly digging into my hips.

“Huh?”

His head went limp and dipped down into the crevice of my neck. “Gonna need you to relax, can’t—” He grunted. I tried to level my breathing as he placed soft kisses on my neck. “I said you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

I writhe against the couch below him, feeling the slow drag of his velvety skin, despite being slow, it was deep. His eyes were hooded as they looked down at me and I struggled to keep eye contact. “Fuck, hurts.” I groaned softly, pushing at his hips to try to relieve some of the tension.

“Désolé.” He spoke softly, still pressing soft kisses against my skin and trying to rub smooth circles into my hips. “There is nothing better than this.”

The slow drag of his cock was intoxicating, I was devoid of words as his hand softly pressed against my stomach as his thumb reached to play with my clit, the soft fabric of my dress still bunched up at my waist.

“Si vous lisez ceci, j'avais juste besoin de remplissage.”

“Feels so good, daddy.” I finally cursed out.

He grunted with a particularly harsh thrust. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and I could already sense what was about to happen.

“You’re just a little girl. I’ll treat you like one.” He spat as he littered kisses down my neck again, contrary to his words. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You’re nothing compared to an experienced, well established, refined man like me. Is that what you wanted?” He spoke, dragging out the syllables of every word that left his mouth.

“What are you gonna do, daddy?” I spoke as he looked down at me with all the willpower that was left in his body. His thrust began to pick up pace slowly as I was adjusting to him, he hovered over me, entirely naked besides the mask. 

“I’m gonna show you how a man treats a woman.”

“And how am I going to go back to boys after you do?”

“You won’t.” He responded plainly but with a slight grin. “I’ll ruin you for young men. Why would you want to go back to a boy anyway? You won’t have to worry about boys.” He spoke possessively, purring at the feel of my body beneath him.

I let out a pathetic moan at the way he was speaking, feeling putty in his hands and more than willing to let this man ruin me for anyone less than experienced. 

He basically growled as his pager beeped at him. “Saved by the bell.”

“Wha— Huh?” I responded in a lust-filled daze as he haltered his movements completely and gave me a moment to rejoin planet earth before he continued.

“I need to go. Work calls.”

“Oh.” I frowned, pulling his face closer to mine to kiss him properly. Admittedly, I was a little disappointed at the sudden end, though by the looks of it, so was he given that his jaw was so clenched you could practically hear teeth cracking under the pressure.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke softly, he placed one last kiss before leaving the situation entirely.

He pulled himself out and unbunched the skirt from around my waist, though we both had no idea where my panties had ended up. He began to put his suit back on slowly but equally so, he had no idea where his tie was.

“You can stay if you wish.” He said solemnly.

“Isn’t that weird?”

“No, I don’t know when I’ll be back but there’s no point letting this hotel room go to waste with no one staying in it.” He looked around. “It was quite expensive.” He whispered softly, there were teasing undertones but it was clear he was trying to convince me into staying, like this was the one service he could provide for me, despite his sudden departure.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back sometime in the morning, then we can get breakfast.”

“You’re gonna come back?”

“It would be rude to leave you, no?” He spoke, looking down at me while he buttoned up his shirt before slipping on his jacket and smoothing his mask below the collar. Without his tie, he left the first button undone on the white shirt and it looked enticing. “How else am I supposed to show you that boys are just a waste of time?”

“That is true. So.. You’ll see me again?” I tried to joke back with him but it hung in the air and he could sense the disappointment and hesitation.

“Yes.” He answered thickly. “I mean, I really shouldn’t but.. I seem to be unable to stop myself nonetheless.” He leant in for another kiss before hesitating and deciding to place it on the forehead instead. “The bed is very soft, ma cherie. I must insist you stay the night, at the very least.” He repeated softly. 

“I’ll stay.” I nodded, unsure if I would keep my promise.

“You can order room service if you need.” He spoke again, picking up his pager and sliding it into his suit jacket. “I wish I didn’t need to go.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

He nodded silent as he trudged through the room, he picked up his small duffel bag and did a silent salute goodbye before bending over again and picking up something from the ground and sliding it into his pocket, not that I saw what it was.

“I bid you adieu.” He spoke softly from the doorway before disappearing off into the night.

[bittersweet-moonseed]

It was a simple question. So why did the answer hurt so much?

Scout had asked Sniper if he thought soulmates could be one-sided. It was a joke, well, mostly. See Scout had flings his whole life, things he thought was true love. But nothing ever felt like Sniper. Sniper felt different. He had to be his soulmate! Right..?

So it made sense that when Sniper said,

"I don't really believe in that nonsense, mate."

It felt like everything shattered, right? That his world wasn't real. Cause not only did the man he swore was he soulmate not believe in soulmates. But he probably wouldn't believe they were soulmates...

Maybe soulmates could be one-sided.

[crabonfire]

I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.

Character: Demoman

Type: Fluff, Romantic

Warnings: None

Note:

Partially back, love you demo

♡♡♡

Demo was always drunk. Drunk on the battlefield, drunk on ceasefire days, drunk at night and slightly hungover in the morning. Slightly, because he's used to the headache and throw ups.

Though you found it concerning, you knew this was some part of him that would probably never leave him. He made sure to tell you that too, as it was a permanent habit stuck to his routine.

But he found that he'd drink less and less the more he spent time with you, because he didn't want to forget about your experiences together.

Today he was in a slump. Tavish was always an insecure man, even if it wasn't obvious to most people, he was. He found himself with a disgusted look as he looked into the mirror, so he never did.

Though, you always noticed. He'd always focus on you while you were together, but you'd catch glimpses of him being awkward or laugh at the compliments you give of his physical look.

And for some reason today, his insecurity rose high.

You were worried, he wasn't as active today, which, you had no problem with since he can do whatever he wants but it was unusual to say the least. He didn't talk to you either after the matches had finished, and your team won! But, he didn't seem to care.

You found him in his room, slumped over the bed, snoring, with a bottle of unfinished scrumpy in his hand. You walked in quietly, closing the door behind you. You didn't want to wake his sleeping self, so you took the scrumpy out of his hands, placing it on the bedside table, and very carefully, you pushed his body up onto the bed, lying him down.

You took his beanie off, and his eyepatch too, it couldn't have been comfortable to sleep with. You admired his face for a moment, wiping the excess drool he had on his face with your sleeve, you smile at him.

You didn't know what he meant when he told you he found himself unattractive. He was so handsome, so...pretty. You leaned, sitting by him on the bed, your hand stroking his hair as you admired him.

You leaned a kiss to his forehead, before getting up.

When you did, he took your hand absentmindedly. You turned to look at him, and he seemed to be half asleep and half awake. He looked at you groggily, as if trying to see who you were. When he registered your face, his gaze softened, and he smiled at you sleepily. He seemed to be only slightly intoxicated, so it seemed he didn't drink that much.

"Lamb, what were you doing?"

You mirrored his smile, replying softly.

"I wanted to check up on you."

You shifted, sitting back on the bed. His hand that held your wrist moved to entertwine his fingers in yours. His thumb rubbed the back of your knuckles as his smile widened at that. He stared sleepily at the sight of your hands together.

He hummed in reply, his voice was low and slightly raspier than usual, he looked so peaceful and that made your heart skip a beat. He stared up at you with such a fond expression, like his heart skipped the same way.

"You look nice today, lass / lad."

You smiled and furrowed your eyebrows in amusement.

"I look how I do everyday, Demo."

He nodded, "Yeah."

His face shifted to lie comfortably on the pillow, fingers still entertwined, but then he feels softness of the fabric, confused, and suddenly, very shocked at the abscence of his eyepatch. He turned back to you, and frowned slightly.

"Where'd my eyepatch go?"

He asked, eyebrows raised. You titled your head, other hand reaching to caress his hair again.

"I took it off, I didn't think sleeping with an eyepatch would've been comfortable."

You noticed how his frown stayed and you hummed, "I hope that's okay, I just wanted you to sleep well."

It took a moment for him to reply, but he simply nodded. But now he didn't seem to look at you, a confusing look on his face. You know what this was about and you smiled at him sweetly,

"You look nice today, too."

I mumble, drawing his attention back to me.

"You look nice everyday but, like this, I get to admire you all to myself and it makes me realise how pretty you are."

His frown disappeared and he looked at you with an embarrassed look, before he smirked, and snickered, and started to laugh.

"Haha, don't joke with me lass / lad."

You shook your head, not returning his laugh and smiling genuinely. "Tavish, I'm serious." He stopped his laugh, but there was an amused smile on his face, as if he still didn't believe you.

"You're beautiful, Tav."

That got him, he looked away and scoffed, eyebrows furrowed in embarrassment, though his lips were still curled in a smile, he let out another chuckle. You frowned, "Demo." He looked up at you and smirked, "What?"

You shook your head, leaning in, and leaving soft kisses all over his face. You started at his jaw, his nose, to his cheeks, kissing his forehead, and not forgetting to leave short kisses to his temples. You pulled back to smile at him, so lovingly, so fondly, that he found himself start to sober up, his heart racing quickly.

"You're gorgeous, Tav. It's a real shame that you can't seem to believe that."

Your voice was quiet and soft, as your hand caressed his face, your thumb rubbing his cheek, right under his eye. He looked at your hand and reached up to push it further to his cheek, and he grasped your hand.

"I hope one day you'll be able to see yourself the way I see you."

He returned your gaze, and sighed, tilting his head to leave a gentle kiss to your palm, then to your wrist, before chuckling, a sweet one this time.

"Yer gonna be the death of me, [Y/N]."

You chuckled in reply, you two sat in silence for a while, enjoying each others company, before he pulled you over and lied you down, you hugged him tightly as his face was nuzzled in your chest, your hands rested on his back, rubbing gently, and he wouldn't be able to admit it right now, but your words had taken a toll on how he viewed himself.

Oh, how he loved you.

♡♡♡

[simp999]

Ahem. Since my last request was a fumble, could I ask for a more platonic x reader where the reader is in their mid teens? They are pretty good at fighting, and almost never complain under any circumstances, but one day they come down with an illness that was worse than any other sickness they had ever had before. They try to tough it out, but end up breaking down in an isolated corner because they can’t take it anymore. Idk, after that I was just hoping for a Medic-centric comfort story.

Medic, Engineer, Sniper x Sick! Teen! Reader

Wc: 0.7k

A/N: No worries my guy!! Thank you for requesting!! I changed a few things up a bit and chose a few characters, I hope that cool- and I hope this isn't too short! I think I might start doing shorter fics from now on

Masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your head throbbed and pounded as your clothes became more drenched with sweat by the minute. But you had to live up to their expectations, you had to continue making them proud. You heaved as you dragged one foot in front of the other, doing your best to drag your compound bow to the respawn room after cleaning it the night before, preparing for today’s battle. You had woken up like this- pain filling every inch of your body and barely able to walk on your own without the aid of the walls surrounding you. 

You had managed to make it just barely into the game room before immediately collapsing to the cold, hard floor. The last thing you heard was a few shouts and hurried footsteps, along with the sound of your bow clattering to the floor. 

You woke up in the lab’s bed, drenched even more. You felt somebody wiping a stray hair that was sticking to your forehead away, then it went to check your temperature. The action was cut short when they noticed your eyes flutter open, quickly beginning to ask you lots of questions. Your eyes darted and your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words that seemed to mesh together. The lights being so bright and everything seeming so loud wasn’t helping. Medic quickly took note and did everything in his power to ease any pain or annoyances. He dimmed the lights, and only allowed two mercs to stay in the waiting area. You felt a nice cold, wet cloth on your forehead, calming you immediately. He spoke with a much softer tone, asking you questions slowly. He was still a bit panicked- this had never happened to you before. 

You had been with the mercs nearly a year now, replacing Scout as the youngest. Despite him being pissy at first, you were now closer than ever with a sibling-like dynamic. It was nice being the teen of the group, almost feeling like you had nine scary dads protecting you; but it also had its downsides, mostly stemming from the fact that you’re still all cold-blooded killers. Which meant the expectation was that you could do great in battle, or so you assumed. You placed all these high bards for yourself, always wanting to make the mercs proud. Some were harder to please than others, such as Spy compared to Pyro who would often clap and grow excited at any little thing you managed. Soldier was the hardest on you out of them all, seeing that you had lots of potential at such a young age. There’s a reason you’re here. Medic and Engineer often had to remind him that you were still a teen.

You did your best to never complain, even when you felt like you were too exhausted to keep doing pushups or run around the base for the 100th time. You had placed the expectation that you had to keep up with the grown men on your shoulders, and you’d gotten used to it.

“Did something happen?” 

You tried to speak, but your voice was caught in your throat. It burned. You lightly shook your head, and it felt like it was spinning. 

Medic’s brows knit with worry as he studied you, deciding to allow the two other mercs in for support in aiding you. Even just for moral support for yourself. With the sweetest Texan accent, one of them spoke;

“Awh, Honeybee, ya shoulda told us ya weren’t feelin’ well, sugar.”

The other one nodded and he adjusted his sunnies, continuing to wipe a clothe over your prized bow. He knew you did your best to take great care of it, so he opted to do it himself. 

“Mhmm. Worried ‘bout ya, Roo.”

Engie listened to Medic’s every word- from getting you water to removing or adding a blanket, while Sniper- despite not being a big fan of physical contact, allowed himself to hold your hand in his with a very loose grip, running his thumb soothingly over the back of your hand. He rarely whispered small nothings to you, reassuring you.

“You're gonna be okay, bunny. You’ll be okay. We’re here for ya.” 

.

.

.

Mar. 6. 24

[fruit-teeth]

Out of context memes I made for my TF2 fanfic instead of actually working on my TF2 fanfic: part…5? Who knows at this point I am so sorry (click for better quality)

[typingatlightspeed]

TF2 Fanfic - Someone Else's Song Chapter 1

Engineer needs to do something about his crush on Spy. So Pyro convinces him to write him a love letter. Unfortunately, Spy reads way too deep into things and ends up spending a whole week trying to crack a code that doesn't exist. He also, somewhat to his consternation, ends up decoding his own feelings for someone on the team in the process. Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Ao3 Link!

I'll fully admit this one is dumb as hell but the fun kind of dumb where the mercs get to be little shits lol. Just, uh, ignore how Scout is better at reading in this than in canon. It's for the bit, dammit. Also spot the Simpsons joke!

---------

Pyro looked from the page in his gloved hands—typed up on the publicly available typewriter in the rarely-used records office on base—to Engineer, who was doing his level best to avoid eye contact, his face bright red as he inspected contents of his coffee cup like the answer to all of life's questions was hidden beneath the last dregs of the beverage inside. "I mean, the wording definitely doesn't sound like you, so between that and typing it instead of handwriting, I don't think he's gonna guess from that."

Engineer sighed a little, relieved. "It don't sound like no one else on the team, does it?"

"Aside from maybe Spy himself? I don't think so." Pyro set the letter back down on Engineer's workbench. "It should keep him guessing. But if you don't give him any clues, how's he gonna guess it's you?"

Engineer mulled that over a little. "Him knowin' it's me is kinda what I'm tryin' to avoid."

"Knowing it's you and guessing it's you are two totally different things!" Pyro shook his head. "Look, I get that you don't think you've got a shot, but the whole reason I said a love letter was the best way to get these feelings out is because you can get a feel for whether he's interested or not! If you don't give him anything to go on, he's gonna give up, Engie!"

"This ain't a 'come an' get me' letter!"

"No, but if he's intrigued enough to try and find out more, then you know he's not turned off by the idea that someone on the team's into him! And if you give him just a few breadcrumbs, he won't be able to turn down a mystery. Hell, he might dig that, that you know him well enough to know he wants a little mystery, a little bit of a chase, right?"

"You know so much about him, maybe you should be movin' in on him, 'stead of me," Engineer pouted, setting his coffee down.

"Pfft," Pyro dismissed him with a wave of his gloved hand. "I don't go in for these backdoor shenanigans."

Rolling his eyes, Engineer set his hands on his hips. "Well what do you suggest, then?"

Pyro tapped at the filter of his mask in thought. "Well, you typed it up, so unless you wanna try sneaking down to the records room again without being noticed, I'd suggest something quick and simple. Maybe a signature? You didn't even put a pseudonym, or a title. Like, 'your secret admirer' or something!"

Taking the page from Pyro's hand, Engineer set it on his drafting table, looking it over in thought. Pyro was right. He was terrified that Spy would suss it out immediately and reject him outright. He wasn't exactly a man that shared similar tastes to the fancy Frenchman. In spite of himself, however, he couldn't help but get giddy at just the thought of those bright blue eyes, that strong, aquiline nose, the adorably silly way he snorted when he laughed too hard. How in the hell did he manage to turn from a hardened killer in his forties to a blushing schoolboy?

Seizing one of his drafting pencils, Engineer considered for a long moment. How would he sign this love letter? What identity would he give this fictionalized version of himself, a breadcrumb for Spy to cling to without fully giving himself away? With a sigh, he scribbled down the first thing he could think of that wasn't obvious.

"N.G.?" Pyro read, over Engineer's shoulder?

"Well it ain't like I could use D.C., that'd be a dead giveaway. Nobody on the team's got an initial in common. So I just pulled two letters that don't match anyone on the team at all."

Pyro turned to his friend and stared at him long and hard through darkened lenses. He shook his head. "Yeah, yanno what? Sure, fine, it works." He threw up his hands and walked off, utterly done. "Good luck, Engie."

"T—thanks, Py," Engineer replied, confused at his friend's response.

*

The next day's match was a late start, leaving everyone utterly exhausted by its end, which pushed into the twilight hours. More importantly, the late start left everyone champing at the bit to get going at its beginning, leaving Engineer ample chance to sneak the folded note into Spy's locker without anyone noticing.

When at last the final bell sounded and the day was called to an end, the team ambled in from the field, spent and sore. The day's mission had been a payload defense, which was always grueling work that lacked a finality and catharsis in victory that holding a control point, capturing points, or retrieving a briefcase full of intel would always bring. Instead, it was simply a matter of holding pressure until at last the other team could push no longer, and it left them all battered and weary. It was with this bone-deep exhaustion that they returned to their lockers after the match, setting down their weapons and tools and undressing before they hit the showers, chattering idly about the highs and lows of the day.

"...and that's why, man. Ain't no way their Demo ain't got it out for me or somethin'," Scout said, continuing his long-winded theory as to his problems of the day.

"No more'n any of 'em do," Sniper countered, hanging up his hat and shedding his sunglasses. "You just keep gettin' in the bloke's way, mate. I keep tellin' you. It's not targeted if you keep stumblin' into 'is sticky traps."

"He keeps settin' 'em right where I'm goin'!" Scout replied, tugging his shirt off. "It's like the guy's got a grudge!"

"Your poor battlefield awareness is not the manifestation of a grudge," Spy shot with a roll of his eyes, stubbing out his cigarette on his shoe and finally making it to his locker. He lifted an eyebrow, immediately clocking the new addition to his possessions. "Hello now, what's this?"

"Man, I got plenty a' battlefield awareness! I got battlefield awareness comin' out my ass! Ain't nobody know the ins an' outs a' that field better than me you snooty fro—hey what's that?" Scout interrupted his own self-aggrandizement to peer at the letter that sat in the upper cubby of Spy's locker, where the rogue was also staring, studying, trying to be sure there were no traps attached. Scout merely ducked around him and snatched up the paper with a flourish and set to opening it.

"Scout! You idiot, there could be a trap! Or contact poison! Or—"

"'Spy," he nodded to the older man, holding the letter out of his reach as he grabbed for it," I find you fascinating in a way I can't shake. I'm fixated on you. You're all I can think of when my mind turns to idle thoughts, and those thoughts are a mixture of adoration and lust. Hoo buddy, this is gettin' spicy!" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, dodging around Spy's grasping hands and hopping up onto the bench in front of the lockers. His voice grew more dramatic as he read." It's driven me to distraction and the kind of madness only alleviated by some sort of action. " He grinned down at Spy, who had given up on trying to snatch the letter from his grasp, his face growing pink with embarrassment.

"But I have doubts as to whether I'd be welcomed. Feelings beyond surface-level are impossible to read with you, which makes sense. You wouldn't be the deeply capable spy you are if you were an open book. What a fuckin' brown-noser. Your skill and talent are part of what make you so damnably attractive, if frustratingly mysterious."

The rest of the team had finished piling into the room, gathering around the bench as Scout read aloud for the group. Pyro had his hands on his hips, shaking his head. The kid could be such a dick sometimes, and he could practically feel Engineer dying behind him, the shorter man wilting as he tried to pretend to be surprised.

"So," Scout threw an arm out, giving it all the performance he could muster, "all I can do is write this and leave it where you can find it, so I can finally get this off of my chest. Yours..." everyone leaned in with interest, stricken with curiosity as to who had written such a note. Scout pulled the letter away from his face, holding it out for Spy to take, "N.G."

"N.G.?" Spy asked, finally snatching the paper from Scout's hand, holding it up for his eyes to scan hurriedly across. Everything was spelled correctly, and there was no unusual capitalization. A quick look at the paragraphs showed no immediate pattern in word choice, and everything but the name was typed, so handwriting couldn't be analyzed. From a cursory glance, where was no clue as to whom had written the letter. He took a deep breath, and looked from the page to the assembled mercenaries, his cheeks burning.

Four and a half sets of eyes and two pairs of lenses all stared back at Spy, and from a glance, he could discern nothing but surprise and curiosity from all of them. He swallowed hard and tried to regain his composure. "It seems someone is...smitten with me," he said slowly, the reality of the situation dawning on him.

Scout guffawed from his spot on the bench, hopping down next to Spy and throwing his arm over the taller man's shoulders. "Hope you like sausage, pally, 'cause ain't nobody got access to this locker room but us chuds." He grinned and gestured broadly to the assembled men in the room, all of whom averted their eyes bashfully at the suggestion.

Spy lifted an eyebrow at Scout, then rolled his eyes in annoyance. The little shit was right, but he didn't have to come out and say it. Whoever wrote the note, it was one of seven possible suspects.

Even if Scout were oblivious as to why it was the worst possible outcome if he were the author—and Spy had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't as oblivious as he played, considering the occasional cracks Heavy would make—there was no way he would have been able to spell half of the words on the letter, let alone define them. And he certainly wouldn't go reading the damned thing aloud for everyone just to embarrass Spy. That was one worst-case-scenario squared away, at least, so Spy didn't have to worry about the logistics of a murder-suicide.

No, it was down to Soldier, Pyro, Demoman, Heavy, Engineer, Medic, or Sniper. His eye swept over them all, and he turned his mouth up into a straight line. All of them were uncomfortable under his gaze, which was only fair. After all, they were all in a room together, and Scout was clearly ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness for immediate mockery.

Spy tried to think it beneath him to do the same if the tables were turned, but he knew better. He would be the first to tease Scout and his prospective beau mercilessly, so it was only fair that he suffered the same fate, really. Though it seemed unfair that whoever it was who had placed the letter should be so shamed, particularly when it was already very clearly a labour just to make this barest gesture.

Among a team of straightforward, brash, confident men, it was certainly surprising.

Either way, standing around and letting Scout hang about as his personal gadfly wouldn't make it any easier. "How eloquent," Spy finally sighed drolly, knocking Scout's arm off of him and straightening his jacket. "Well, nobody is stepping forward, so there's no point to standing here, covered in dirt and sweat and stinking up the place. Gentlemen." He put the letter back in the cubby of his locker and set to undressing.

"You're gonna shower? With everyone? Knowin' you got a target on your ass? That one a' the guys is gonna be eyein' you up like fresh meat?" Scout balked.

"If he hasn't been noticed taking looks yet, he scarcely will risk it now," Spy announced, unbuttoning his jacket. He smiled, looking to the younger man, who seemed absolutely scandalized. "And if he does, then hopefully he will enjoy the show."

That brought a chuckle out of Heavy and Sniper, who peeled off to go change as well, the rest of the team following suit, conversations springing up among them as they undressed, grabbed their towels and shower kits and headed in to go wash.

"So yer intae blokes?" Demoman asked as Spy walked past him to the showerhead on his blind side. He shed his towel and hung it on the wall, and turned on the water, letting it run and get warm before stepping under its spray.

"I am into interesting people," Spy replied, setting himself up in turn. "I have preferences that interest me more than others, of course, but someone's gender does not disqualify them, no."

"Ye great pouf," Demoman chuckled. "Figured as much."

"You're one to talk," Spy chuckled.

"Oh?"

"Not a man on this base believes your line about that business with the BLU Soldier being just about friendship."

Demoman heaved a heavy-yet-quiet laugh. "Aye, fair enough."

Engineer stood at Spy's other side, his eyes straight ahead, his jaw clenched hard enough to ache. He heard a snort from the other direction, and turned to see Pyro looking pointedly at him, grinning. His eyes went wide, and he shut them, turning his face into the water spray. Little shit was going to get him made. But he knew why he was doing it. He'd heard it too. Spy was into men, and that meant he wasn't out of the game yet.

Whether Spy would think he's an interesting person, though, that remained to be seen.

*

"N.G.," Spy mumbled, looking about the mess table at his coworkers, watching them with keen eyes.

"So mysterious!" Medic tittered, looking across at Spy as he picked at his dinner.

"Yes. Very mysterious," Heavy agreed flatly, sitting beside the doctor. He cast a look about the table, wondering if nobody else had put together the very obvious pseudonym of its author. In spite of himself, he didn't let his eye linger on Engineer. The poor man had to build up the courage just to leave a love note; it would be cruel to out him. Though Heavy was surprised; he didn't figure Engineer for such a coward. The man was normally so plain-spoken. But then, matters of the heart were fickle. Who was he to judge?

Especially as Spy was busy analyzing every single one of them for the slightest tell, trying to socially engineer his way into a solution through sheer force of will, making them all squirm under his curious scrutiny. Heavy was grateful that it wasn't him who held a torch for Spy. He wouldn't be able to maintain a straight face under such intense study. He almost pitied Engineer.

But then, he'd asked for this, quite literally.

"Any theories?" Sniper teased, gesturing to Spy with a fork full of salisbury steak.

"Considering his dismay, I've safely eliminated Scout from the running."

Everyone nodded. That was obvious for other reasons, but they all knew better than to say it.

Scout made a face at the possibility. "Fuckin' miracle anyone wants to fuck you."

"Thank you," Spy dismissed with annoyance. "Otherwise? I do not know. I have theories as to who it isn't, but as to who it is? That is trickier."

"I did not write your letter," Soldier announced.

"I know, you don't know how," Spy replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Damn right!"

"Don't just tell him!" Pyro chastised, whacking Soldier on the shoulder. "That takes away the fun! Let Spy solve it!"

"I assure you, he did not provide me with new information just now," Spy said drolly. He finished his dinner and downed the last of his drink. "But thank you, mon ami."

Pyro beamed.

"Regardless, I think I will get nowhere surrounded by everyone, and I suppose I owe it to the author to perhaps approach him in private, once I have deduced his identity. As such, I will retire for the evening. If you'll excuse me." Spy rose from his seat, taking his dishes to the kitchen to wash before leaving mess for the evening with a casual wave to the team on his way out.

They all stared after him, and when the door closed, immediately turned to one another, staring hard at each other, accusingly. Except for Heavy, who just shook his head.

"I'm impressed! I didn't realize you held such a high opinion of him," Medic said, leaning in to grin at Sniper.

"Me? What're you lookin' at me for? I'm not interested in that bloody snake!" Sniper snapped, reeling back in his seat. He pointed to Demoman, "Demo's obviously this N.G. bloke, tryin' shamelessly to pull 'im in the showers!"

"Tryin' tae pull 'im?! I was jus' askin' a question! And a fair one at that! Nae a single one o' ye thought tae clear it up if N.G. even had a chance! If Spy only wanted birds, it'd all be pointless anyway! Ye cannae say ye were nae curious!"

"If Spy only wanted birds, only Doc'd have a chance," Scout snorted, deeply entertained by the chaos.

"Is that a joke about my pets, or are you suggesting I'm a woman? Answer carefully," Medic grunted.

"What's wrong with being a woman?" Pyro asked, fanning the flames.

"Absolutely nothing, other than I don't appreciate being misgendered simply because I do not strut around aggressively asserting my masculinity every three minutes like some insecure, immature Dummkopf!"

"That's big talk from a guy walkin' around callin' everyone a dumbhead!"

"Scout," Heavy warned, though he was quickly drowned out by Sniper.

"You're awful quiet, Truckie," he observed with a smirk, looking down the table at the shorter man.

Engineer choked on the water he was drinking, breaking into a coughing fit upon being called out. The table erupted in laughter, and once his throat was clear, he glared daggers at the assassin at the other end of the table. "I'm tryin' to eat my damn dinner's why I'm quiet, Stretch. Ain't nobody's business but Spy's who's sweet on him, and it's uncouth to sit around cacklin' like a bunch of hens speculatin'."

Everyone shared a look. Medic bit his lip. Demoman pouted, trying to contain a smile. Sniper simply continued smirking, his gaze leveled on his friend. Pyro was glad for his mask to provide a poker face. Scout had a hand clapped over his mouth to contain his giggles.

Heavy simply shook his head. Engineer was right. Engineer was also deeply, deeply obvious. "You are correct, Engie," he said. He rarely used the other man's nickname, but said it now pointedly. "Rude to gossip about teammates' love life, Engie."

Engineer stared hard at Heavy, and the giant smirked as his eyes locked on shadowed lenses.

"But you are not very good at being sneaky, N.G. "

Everyone's eyes alit on Engineer, whose face burned bright red.

"Ohhhhhh," Scout gasped, realization dawning. "Engie, N.G.! That's fuckin' genius, man, I never woulda thought 'a that."

Sniper turned a baffled look to Scout, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Love bloomin' on a battlefield. It's beautiful," Demoman said, wiping at his eye.

"A love letter from the soft-spoken American to his elegant French beau; how romantic!" Medic cooed.

"He ain't my beau!" Engineer replied, his hand curling into a fist.

"Come on, guys, be nice. Imagine how hard it must be to admit that to Spy of all people. He's not known for being gentle to people," Pyro cautioned, trying to deescalate now that it was actively turned on Engineer.

"Yeah, s'pose he can be...intimidatin'," Demoman conceded.

"And flippant," Medic admitted.

"And rude," Sniper pointed out.

"And an asshole," Scout added with a pout.

Engineer frowned harder.

"But he is handsome," Heavy offered with a thoughtful nod.

"What, are you a fanny bandit too?" Scout asked, a bit surprised.

"Keep forgettin' fanny means arse over here," Sniper mumbled.

"Not your business," Heavy shot, "but do not need to like men to understand what handsome man look like."

"Women do tend to fall for his charms readily," Medic observed, thrusting a finger into the air.

"That's true, and ye cannae deny the lad's got charm," Demoman agreed, nodding sagely.

"And we know Demo's a pouf, so there's your expert," Sniper chuckled.

Demoman shot him a look. "He's nae me type, but I'd nae kick the lad outta bed. So I see what you see in him, mate," he said, giving Engineer a wink. At least, he assumed it was a wink.

Engineer's face hit the table, his hardhat flopping off loudly as he slumped into a defeated heap, blushing up to his scalp. "Fellas…"

"Nobody better say a fucking word," Pyro cautioned, pointing a finger and making sure to jab it in the direction of every mercenary at the table. He laid a hand on Engineer's back as the man curled his arms around his head to hide his face. "Or respawn won't be able to save you."

Everyone else reeled back, hands up in surrender. None of them wanted to incur Pyro's wrath.

"What? Us? Say anythin'? No, naw, you got it all wrong, Py! Never never not once, nope. Not me, not us, right, guys?" Scout sputtered nervously, terror edging into his expression as he begged off.

Everyone else nodded in nervous agreement.

"Just can't believe Heavy made it before Spy," Sniper mumbled, casting an apologetic look to the giant, who raised an eyebrow. "No offense, mate. But it's Spy we're talkin' about 'ere."

"Spy's job is partly to decipher intelligence and codes," Medic conceded, laying a hand on his companion's shoulder.

"Spy look too hard, miss obvious thing," Heavy sighed, shaking his head. "He is probably trying to find coded message that does not exist."

"It's clever," Demoman chuckled, leaning in to Engineer, who had not lifted his head from the table. "Give the lad a bone tae chew on, a wee mystery tae solve, when the answer's in front o' his face! Just the sort o' thing that'd get his attention, for sure."

"Yeah, well hopefully givin' 'im that bone'll get 'im givin' you his bone, right?" Scout said with a toothy grin.

"Can you not?" Sniper shot, swatting Scout. "Can you be fucking supportive for once?"

"What?! How'm I not bein' supportive?" Scout rubbed at his arm, pouting at Sniper. "Engie's playin' to that rat's interests, and I'm sayin' that's a good thing! It's what he's into, so maybe that'll let 'im hit it! Look if Engie wants to dick Spy down I ain't judgin' nothin' but the guy's taste in men, man!"

Sniper sighed, sitting back in his seat, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as Scout turned to Engineer. "You got this, Hard Hat. A love letter, a little mystery? It's cliche but Spy's a big walkin', talkin', smokin' cliche. Bet 'e loves that bodice ripper shit, too. The romance shit. You show up shirtless, all flexin' an' dramatic, sweep the guy off 'is feet? Carry 'im to bed an' lay 'im down an' tell 'im you're gonna ravish 'im? Putty in your hands, pal."

"We still talkin' about what Spy's intae?" Demoman teased.

"Whatchu tryin' to say, Cyclops?"

"I dinnae ken, lemme get me shirt off and do some flexin' for ye and we'll see, aye?"

Pyro chuckled as Scout and Demoman set to bickering, Sniper immediately jumping in to roast them both. He pat Engineer on the back, who he felt shaking with soft laughter, relieved that the worst the team had for him was some gentle ribbing and their own version of being supportive. Now, all he had to worry about was what Spy thought.

*

N.G.

In ROT-13, that decoded to A.T. Not a man on the team had those initials either, and even the one man with a T, Tavish, had an F and a D for his other initials, so it seemed unlikely. Though he had been friendly in the shower...

He was always friendly in the shower. Spy always stood on his blind side, so conversation lacked awkwardness, and he always wanted to chat while the adrenaline of the field was still fresh. Spy knew that. And that aside, the man was forthright to a fault. If he were his admirer, there'd be no secret about it. He'd make a show of ogling him and ask him out for drinks, brazen as always.

No, Demoman seemed unlikely. Doubly so because Spy knew from experience that the man wrote in Scots, just as he spoke, which made his English even harder to parse in written form.

The writing of the letter was clean, precise, almost designed to be hard to identify. Surely, typing almost all of it had been a clever way to avoid handwriting analysis.

Which would be doubly important for a man with difficult-to-read handwriting. Medic, perhaps? Spy could rarely understand the scribbles the doctor threw onto his blackboards in the lab, and more infuriatingly: official documents that he needed to interact with. It was chicken scratch to his eyes, and he had to fight to make out what the hell the man was even trying to communicate. The love note would have been unreadable in Medic's handwriting, so a typewriter would be a clever move. Certainly, the vocabulary and formality on display seemed a closer fit for him than anyone else on the team.

But Medic had no shame. He certainly only partook in clandestine behaviour spontaneously, improvising his way through life to a degree that frankly stressed Spy the hell out. There was no way the man would bother with a note, let alone typing it up, especially when he maintained that his handwriting was perfectly legible, na schönen Dank auch! He, like Demoman, would likely just come out and say it, likely in an embarrassingly public scenario, likely with an inappropriate amount of familiarity, and wonder why everyone was staring.

No, no, it couldn't be him. Spy grumbled quietly, taking another sip of the whiskey he held in one hand, a pencil threaded between the index and middle fingers of his other hand, which drummed on the top of his desk as he hunched over it, eyes busily scanning the page once again. If there were a substitution cipher, the key would have to be contained in the letter itself, possibly in some sort of pattern in the words.

No clues in the capitalization. No clues in the words that started sentences or paragraphs. He counted the commas and periods, no pattern or morse code to be found. He took another sip of whiskey and sighed.

Soldier couldn't read, and admitted it wasn't him, so that was out. Unless he was trying to throw him off the trail in front of the others...

Heavy, while straightforward and confident, was also cagey with his more easily-bruised emotions. It could be him. Surely, leaving a note and hoping for the best, hoping to avoid the attention of the rest of the team and finding very few excuses to get Spy alone to speak with him, could be his style. The language was florid enough to speak from his poet's heart, but it was also too complex for the man's grasp of English. Had it been in his native tongue, he was sure a love note would read exactly like what one would expect from a doctor of literature. But Heavy would likely never allow any third party to translate something so intimate, and not another soul on the team could even read Cyrillic characters, let alone the Russian language. It seemed deeply unlikely.

That left Sniper, Pyro, and Engineer. Sniper was plain-spoken, but also spent most of his life hiding as part of his livelihood. Caginess made sense, and he knew the man had a better vocabulary than he let on, and could play roles when needed for work. It wasn't impossible that the letter had come from him, but it seemed strange, considering their vitriolic friendship. N.G. had complimented his competence at his job, and competence in one's profession was something Sniper always spoke of priding himself on. It would make sense that he looked for that tendency in a partner, as well. Spy admired the man's commitment to his work, and his pragmatism, but he wasn't sure he could handle being the object of affection of a man who was so pragmatic that he threw piss at people and lived in a van. He shuddered, not crossing the man out in his mental list, but dearly hoping that he wasn't the culprit.

Pyro was a cipher of his own. Most of his dossier was redacted, and he kept much of himself very close to the chest, short of his fondness for cute, childish things and his penchant for talking a lot of shit at the slightest provocation. Spy had never seen him write or read, now that he thought about it, but absence of evidence should never be confused for evidence of absence. He shivered, wondering what Pyro's affection might look like, and leaving a love letter absolutely seemed his style. Typing it rather than doodling it in crayons and markers, though? If if were him, someone else had probably sprung the idea, which suggested co-conspirators. Considering Pyro had been excited to let Spy solve the riddle in the first place, that did make him seem a more likely suspect.

Engineer definitely had the vocabulary, though he only showed it off when he was looking to show off. He was also clever enough to type it to cover his tracks. But would he be the sort to leave a love note? He wasn't exactly the kind of man who wore emotions on his sleeve, usually only allowing camaraderie and anger into the open, like your stereotypical American man. But secretly, was he a romantic?

Spy thought of quiet nights around the campfire, when Engineer would strum his guitar and quietly sing old folk songs to fill the silence, his strong jaw and dark eyes illuminated by the dancing firelight. He'd sing of home, of struggle, of love, of all sorts of things, his warm, throaty voice low and gentle, barely above the strings that hummed along. But this was man who says he's not qualified to answer questions about the nature of beauty. Maybe it was just a matter that one cannot analyze such things objectively; one has to feel them, and his image of propriety got tied up in his concept of logic somewhere along the way? Could there be a romantic behind that facade, betrayed by the beauty of his songs?

Spy set his pen down, looking away from the page to stare off into the middle distance. He took another sip of his whiskey and frowned. Well, shit. He didn't know who this mysterious N.G. was, and he had yet to puzzle out anything about him. But somehow he had just deciphered his own emotions, and was left with a heavy pit in his gut at the realization that, oh no, he had feelings for Engineer.

But what if he wasn't N.G.?

But what if he was?

"Merde."

[mehidktbh]

Bandages

Pairing: Dr. Ludwig "Medic" Humboldt x Fem!Reader

Summary: Getting hurt on the field leads you to take a trip down to Medic's lab in hopes of a quick recovery. Only to get more than what you expected.

Warning: Blood, mentions of fainting and nausea, serious injury...?, talk of bone, swearing, bad german translations, nakedness???, the reader takes their shirt off and some sexual tension ;)

A/N: Why am I suddenly getting into tf2 again? I mean after years of knowing the game why does the hyper-fixation come back after everything,,, (Anyway let's just hope the fandom isn't that dead) 👀

A soft murmuring surrounds you, your eyelids closing every once in a while as you sit back. Your palm supports your head as you try to stay awake. Unknowingly knowing that you are full-on staring at Solider ahead, he sat opposite you on the other side of the room. The more time passes as you sit amongst multiple (injured) men, some more severe than others as they clutch themselves into a puddle of agony. All you got out of today's battle was a nice old spy knife in the back. Taken out previously by you and now all that was left was a gash, dripping and leaking of blood.

But the loud sound of the lab door awaken you out of your slumped-over state, merely wiping off the drool that had only appeared under your mouth. "Thanks, Doc!" Scout walked out happily, his cheerful mood was something everyone was looking forward to. Instead, he showed off his new bandages. And feeling no pain was something everyone wanted...

Just before you could dip your head down back into your half-asleep state the sound of Medic clearing his throat scared you again. Looking up to see him, his straight posture and evil smirk were too well-known, as his eyes drifted to you as he proudly spoke. "Y/N?" You quickly fumbled getting up from your comfortable position of being in that chair for so long, swearing under every step you took until the doors shut behind you.

"Wieder von hinten erstochen?" You turn to Medic, confused and staring into his eyes as you tried to understand what he just said. "Spy, again?" He said more clearly, turning around as he began to get his equipment together. "Ha, yeah..." You said, standing there awkwardly as you tried to laugh dryly too. Looking around the room, a single bed creepily welcomed you to lie down. But the dark red blood spots that littered the white sheet told you otherwise. Medic looked up, eyeing you from head to toe before smirking.

"Vell, take your zhirt off." Looking over to him he had his back turned to you. Thank God. A bit of respect was something you appreciated out of Medic when it came to you, though he didn't with the other mercs...

So you quickly discarded of your red shirt, of course feeling the sense of discomfort and embarrassment instantly rose to your head and body. Trembly hands, the feeling of fainting and vomiting all over the tilted floors were flooding your mind. But you didn't have any time to act on them as you were soon ushed to sit down on the bed. Medic's hands came out to lightly push you down, the feeling of his latex gloves was cold but comforting.

His tongue ticked against his teeth, as he swore in German, though you couldn't see him you could feel his hot breath tickling your neck. The strong feeling of his eyes staring daggers at every part of your back, not to mention the slight ranking of his fingers down your bare skin too. After a while of sitting in such an uncomfortable position for what felt like an eternity, Medic sighed. The sound of him dropping the tool back into the dish meant it was over.

"Is it done?" You questioned, looking back for a second, swallowing the amount of swelling you could still feel. "Nein. I still need to wrap you up," He walked around, grabbing a roll of bandages, his whole hand swallowing it up. "Coo!" "Precisely Archimedes." As he walked back to his original spot behind you his hands reached out, directing you to sit up straight with your hands raised. You watched as his fingers rank up and down your whole chest, as he pulled more on the roll of bandages.

Your eyes stalked him as his hand suddenly appeared in front of you. His chest was right up against your back as he was trying to get a clear view of what he was doing in front. Grazing and still trying to be respectful as he slowly and carefully wrapped the bandages around your bra. His fingers just touching your breasts through the material before he finally stopped.

"Alles erledigt!"