This is my first TF2chan /afanfic/ thread. So I'm going to be posting my PWP/smut fics for you guys. I originally posted them on 4chan's /y/ board in many parts, but I figured I might as well post them here, too.
These fics aren't meant to have substantial plot, but I tried to pack them with enough description to make them into sweet little bites.
Requests and crit are welcome.
Spy wondered why he was doing this.
The blue clad rogue made his way down the corridors of the fort, stepping lightly with his cloak activated. It was risky, he knew, but a mission he could not afford to pass up. The BLU Sniper had tipped him off that there were new weapons blueprints in the RED base that could turn the tide of the battle- a turn sorely needed, as they had lost a dozen conscutive battles in the past days. There was only one problem with procuring the documents: they were being kept in the RED Heavy's quarters.
The creeping Frenchman suspected that the man was a heavy sleeper and he used this theory to keep his fear at a low buzz. He reached the door of the sleeping giant and carefully creaked the door ajar. A shaft of light poured into the room, revealing the blanket-topped mountain of the enemy Heavy. Spy peered into the room, taking in the details of it. A workbench with gun cleaning equipment... Sascha with a pink blanket... a rolled up paper propped against his bedside- Bingo. The intruder bit his lip and took a measured step towards the document. His gloved hands reached towards the paper with the delicacy of a jewel thief. A few more centimeters and...
The Heavy rolled over. In this motion his massive arm swung limply through the air, crashing down on the Spy who cried in suprise. His cloak was immediately shattered. The Russian's eyes snapped open at the noise and took a few seconds for the man to connect what he was seeing. The Spy stood stiff as a board, waiting to be pummeled into a bloody pulp. Instead the large man spoke,
"What is tiny BLU Spy doing in Heavy's bedroom? Speak quickly." He emphasized the point by cracking his knuckles.
The Spy thought quickly, taking a course of action he would later regret.
"I wished to pay you a visit, fat man," purred the cornered man.
"Oh?" Heavy's eyebrow crested in guarded curiosity.
"Oui," asserted Spy, "I could not help but see you again."
"Vhat... Vhat does..."
The man in blue placed a gloved finger to his lips and shushed him, conveying the point effectively. Heavy's eyes shot open at the realization,
"Means... Means you are liking me?"
Spy bit back his bile and nodded in the most sultry way he could muster. The larger man sat up fully, taking a moment to process this. The Frenchman decided it would be smartest to end this now and take his chances seizing the documents later. Placing one gloved hand to the man's face, he drew the giant in for a quick peck on the lips and stood to abscond.
A hand shot up and wrapped around his entire forearm. Spy turned in horror to see a look of satisfaction plastered on the giant's face.
"You know, eet gets lonely here. Only guns. Only Heavy."
With only a minutiae of strength, the man reeled the Spy in. Terror set in, and the smaller man endeavored to struggle. Heavy misinterpreted this as shivering.
"Are you cold leetle man?" Using his massive arms like wings, Heavy pulled the man onto his lap. Spy immediately desisted in his struggling.
"Non, I am plenty warm, merci-"
He was interrupted by a second kiss, this time with so much fervor on Heavy's part that he nearly choked.
"Monsieur Heavy, that is quite e-!"
The larger man was too caught up in affection to listen. He rolled the Spy to lay under him, propping his elbows on either side of the terrified man's shoulders.
"I have meesed this," Heavy whispered while nuzzling Spy's neck.
Spy rolled his head to the side, looking away and sending his mind to anywhere but where he was now. He was suddenly snapped back to the present, however, when he felt a warm lump prodding at his thigh.
"You like?" Heavy grinned seductively and ground his covered erection into his counterpart's crotch gently. The sensation made the Spy ill and he grimaced.
"Poor leetle Spy is still in his clothing. I fix that." He reached down and roughly drew the slacks and underwear from the man's thin hips, still leaving his feet in his polished shoes and argyle gartered socks. He gasped and reached down to cover himself, but accidentally brushed the giant Russian's clothed erection.
"Oh, you vant to touch?" He leaned backwards from his position on top, settling on his knees over the other man. Reaching down, he pulled the elastic up and over his member. His manhood sprang out and bounced, throbbing and surging with blood. Spy's eyes shot open in disbelief at the man's size. Heavy grabbed his gloved hand and drew it to his manhood, smearing the expensive black suede with his pre-come. Spy frowned hopelessly but let the man continue to use his hand.
Heavy dropped the hand after a minute and settled lower on the Frenchman, kissing his neck and shirt while pulling the buttons out of their holes. He caressed the unwilling man's chest, brushing his huge fingers through his sparse black chest hair and over his nipples. Spy bit his lip and forced himself to not arch into his assailant when he tweaked his exposed nubs.
The Russian moved his hands back up to the other man's balaclava covered face, prodding his large fingers at his lips. Spy kept his lips in a thin, sealed line until one of the strong digits popped through. They swirled in his mouth, brushing his tongue, collecting his saliva. Heavy drew them out with a grin and sent his moistened hand south. Dipping between his legs, the fingers went to work loosening the Spy's clenched ass. He gasped as the fingers played with him, caressing and poking unil they entered him. Spy grasped his shoulders, hanging on for dear life.
"Is so tight... Dees is going to be good." Heavy smiled sweetly down at the nervous wreck below him and aimed his member. He pressed in slowly, groaning at the feeling of his massive member being encased by such silky heat. Spy threw his head back in a silent scream and fastened his hands to the sheets at either side of himself. The giant pulled halfway out of the man's body, then slid in fiercely again. He pressed his weight down onto his partner, pinning him there while he was mercilously pounded. The Spy gasped and groaned, trying in vain to alleviate some the wracking burning. Heavy reached back with both arms, grabbing him by his skinny thighs and lifting his legs in the air. His loose shoelaces dangled, swaying back and forth with every thrust.
At this angle the Russian delved even deeper into his body, prompting him to gasp and swear in his mother tongue.
"So sexy. Spy ees good at dis."
Heavy leaned over the Spy and planted a gentle kiss on his crumpled forehead. His pace increased to a feverish rhythm. He panted into his counterpart's ear, whispering in Russian his gratitude. Suddenly he thrust in sharply, letting out a low roar. The giant exploded, filling Spy to the brim. Spy took a greenish tint to his face as overflow leaked from his ass. This tested his limits of strength and composure. The larger man fell in a boneless heap over him, basking in afterglow.
Heavy rolled over contentedly, draping his arm over the bed and snugging into his pillow.
"Was good for you?"
He received no answer.
He turned to see the space next to him empty.
"Leetle Spy will be back," he chuckled, reaching under Sascha and peeking at the real blueprints.
Freizeit: Ain't No Thang
It began with a broken scope.
Mundy growled at the broken contraption held under his arm while descending the stairs of his sniping nest. His rifle was a point of pride. Seeing it reduced to this naked state unnerved him. Even worse, he had to recind control and seek assistance in repairing it. The ocker plodded through over the dry ground, kicking rocks and brown weeds languidly.
"We'll git ya fixed up, now..." he whispered, pawing at the snapped scope.
He entered the base and made a bee-line to the far end of the corridor. Extending a knobby knuckle, he tapped on the door for entrance.
"Ya theah Truckie?"
There was a moment of silence until a muffled voice called out.
"Be there in a minute!"
The Aussie folded his arms nervously and tapped his foot. The lock slid on the shop door and a grease stained Dell greeted him, wiping his brow with a red rag.
"Now what can I do you for, Slim?"
Sniper paused, turning the piece in his hand.
"Well, ah, funny story... See I was up in the roost and-"
Engie stopped him midway and gently took hold of the mangled scope, inspecting it.
"Good gravy, boy, what you been doin' up there?! This thing is split straight down th' middle... "
Without waiting for an answer, he swung around and ventured back to the workbench to his mounted magnification setup.
"Ya managed to crack th' interior lens, not to mention the sight is clear popped out... Whooee."
He turned back around, finally acknowledging the other.
"This'll take a while. Three days at least."
Sniper's jaw dropped.
"Ya mean t' tell me oi can't..."
"Now, jus' wait," qualified Engineer, "Ah kin fix you somethin' for the time being. Jus' won't be as good as this un'."
The Australian nodded, giving him a lopsided grin.
"Truckie, you're a loifesaver."
In a rare display, the taller man reached down to grab the other in a hug. Dell blushed, standing still and unsure how to reciprocate to such a gesture.
"Yea Truckie?" responded Mundy next to his ear.
"Wanna have a few Red Streaks?"
He retracted with a beaming smile on his face, chuckling darkly as he straightened his sallow aviators.
"Sounds good, mate."
Within two hours they were shitfaced.
The American brew was a little off to the Sniper's tastes (he would have sold his eternal soul for a pack of XXXX right about now) but he enjoyed the camaraderie and loved the warm buzz. Dell sat on a crate of scrap across from him, his feet swinging above the floor.
"'Un then I says to him, 'Pardner, didn't your mommah ever teach you manners?'"
The lanky man across from him went into a fit of cackles, falling off the back of his makeshift seat. The Engineer stumbled over to help him up, extending his Gunslinger to pull the bigger man up. In his stupor, however, he miscalculated how much strength the other would exert on his arm and went toppling forward.
Both of them began to howl in laughter at his blunder. Sniper wiped his eyes and coughed.
"Oim in a compromising position, mate."
Engie looked down at the man below him and felt the blush from earlier returning. He felt a sensation akin to hunger settling in his abdomen.
"Well, ah suppose y' are."
They maintained this strange gaze for what both perceived as an eternity. Finally, the Australian extricated his hand from between their bodies, reaching up to the Texan's face. He met no resistance as he caressed the other man's stubble, dragging it up and down his profile tenderly. Engineer nuzzled his face into the touch slightly.
"What ya thinkin', Truckie?"
The man took a moment to ponder, assembling the best response his alcohol addled brain could muster,
"Ah think... Ah like this."
He reached down shakily and cupped the other man's head, planting his lips down onto the Aussie's.
Mundy drew his hand around the back of his head, gently knocking off his helmet and pulling his face down to deepen the kiss. Dell moaned, entangling his fingers into his black hair. The rest of their bodies began to enter the fray, writhing and grinding together to get closer. From below the Sniper reached up, undoing the clasps of the man's overalls in a hurry. Likewise, Engie began tugging at the man's shirt and vest.
"One sec, mate."
They both took a moment to disentangle, removing their clothing in a fever. When they both were reduced to their skivvies they returned to interlock their bodies. Dell ran his calloused fingers through the Sniper's dense thicket of chest hair, curling some around his finger. Mundy hissed as the other ran his thumb over his nipple. He took hold of the Gunslinger and drew it down to his trapped erection. Engie took the hint, and pushed his gloved appendage under the other's waistband . The Australian arched, tossing his head back and biting his lip while his member was worked.
"Oh, oh sod it..."
"Relax now, boy... S' all good..."
The Texan dipped lower on his body, pulling down the man's underwear completely. His erection sprang from its confines, a smattering of pre-come making the tip glisten. Pulling his goggles to rest on his forehead, the man drew closer to taste it. Sniper clawed at the ground, seeking purchase as his companion swirled his tongue around the tip of his member.
"Gah, oh... Oh Truckie..." he set a hand on his head, rubbing his thumb against his temple as encouragement.
The Engineer used one hand to secure the base of the Australian's manhood, dipping his face lower to suckle on his balls. The man below went rigid and began breathing through his nose from the overstimulation. Dell moved back up, drawing his mouth down over his member, bobbing up and down. When he pulled back, it drew a string of saliva between his lips and the swollen tip.
Clamoring back on top of Sniper, he pressed in another deep kiss. They tasted one another, exploring and fighting with their tongues. Mundy slowly retracted, propping up on his elbows.
"Oi want you, Dell."
Dell swallowed dryly, digesting the meaning.
"You sure... Ah mean, how...?"
"Oi want you to fuck me," he growled. "Give me a roight rutting."
A scarlet blush crossed the shorter man's cheeks.
"If'n that's what you want..."
The Engineer sent a hand up onto his counter, searching for the petroleum jelly he used in some fine hinge and gear work. He finally grabbed the right tub in his lubricant drawer (after almost grabbing the graphite dust).
Dipping two mechanical digits into the jelly, he pulled up a generous portion. Sniper spread his lanky legs wide as the Texan smoothed the puckered hole with the lubricant. He could feel it twitch under his fingers as he pressed in. Mundy gasped and swore as the digits pushed it, stretching him wider and wider. With his other hand, Engie pulled down his last piece of clothing and coated his throbbing member.
"Now," breathed Sniper desperately.
Dell aimed carefully and pressed through the ring of muscle. It grasped and pulsated around him in a way that was impossible to describe. The Australian arched, all of his muscles going tight at the intrusion.
"Relax, Slim... Oh Lord in Heaven... "
He gritted his teeth and pulled back out, pushing in slowly again.
"Fastah," begged Sniper, who clung to his back.
He obliged, increasing the pace to a rhythmic pounding. One particularly rough thrust caused the man below to cry out. Dell figured he had found the man's prostate, and continued to aim for that spot. Together they rocked and moaned against the cold shop floor.
"Oh, Engie... Yea-ah... Can we move this to the crate?" the Sniper pointed shakily with his thumb and Engie pulled out.
He stood on wobbly knees and bent himself over the box, spreading his legs. His ass was in the air, warm and trembling, its underside shiny with excess lubricant. The Texan took a deep breath and saddled up behind him, aiming his hot and slick member.
"Do it," commanded the panting man below, "Give me all ya' got."
Dell obliged, grasping his hips and forcefully thrusting in. The Aussie howled, clawing at the crate.
"That's it, mate! Nng... " he groaned as he rocked back against the shorter man.
The Gunslinger made its way around Mundy's hip to grasp his neglected erection. Pumping erratically, Engie fought to keep control. He bent his body over the Sniper's back, biting his shoulder roughly.
"Slim, ah can't hold on much longer... " he breathed.
"Then... Ah... Let it out," responded the breathy mess below him.
Engie grasped his erection solidly and pumped it with vigor, in synchronicity with his sharp thrusts. The man below him cried out, releasing onto the wooden crate below them with uncanny force. Dell continued to pound into him until he hit the edge of his orgasm, ripping through him, leaving nothing but blinding light in his eyes and a pulse he could feel in all parts of his body.
He drew himself out, his release dribbling down the other's leg.
Mundy, draped over the crate, seemed so struck by his orgasm that he was rendered immobile. Dell took him into his arms, sliding him back to the floor. They laid like that in silence, breathing heavily with shared warmth. The Sniper reached into his discarded pants, pulling out two cigarettes. He handed one to Engie and lit them both.
"That was mighty fine, Slim."
"Oi agree. Thanks, Truckie. Thanks fer evry'thin."
Freizeit: Blue Velvet
Soldier planted his shovel into the dark, soggy ground overlooking the Nightfall BLU base. He flicked the ash of his glowing stogie into the mud and straightened his red uniform jacket. From his helmet band he plucked the soaked letter he had found on his pillow this morning. It detailed in fruity script how his beloved rocket launcher had been taken hostage, and how his only means of retrieving it were to meet the kidnapper at the edge of the BLU base.
Silent and stoic and filled with rage he waited in the downpour.
From behind the tree adjacent to him a lanky blue figure appeared. Soldier wheeled around, shovel at the ready.
"ARE YOU THE MAGGOT WHO IS HOLDING LIBERTY BELL-- MY LAUNCHER--HOSTAGE?!" he bellowed, waving his shovel at the other.
The man in blue flicked his orange tipped cigarette into the mud and stepped out of the shadow of the tree. His covered face betrayed no amusement or fear, merely staring the other man down.
"Monsieur, please keep your voize down."
The larger man puffed up in anger, seizing the other man by his shirt and lifting him off of the ground.
"You will explain yourself in no less than TWENTY SECONDS or you will find yourself beaten to a such a PULP even the RESPAWN will not recognize you. Or your MOTHER, for that matter."
Spy winced at the barking of the other man in such close proximity to his ears, but once the other's tirade was finished he began to chuckle.
"You will do no such thing. I can guarantee you will never see your- what did you call it- 'Liberty Bell'? again if I am brutalized." Soldier took this into consideration, and lowered the lanky man a fraction of an inch.
"Then what is it you want, Maggot?," he sneered hatefully.
"I want," the Spy drawled nonchalantly, taking a moment to magnify the tension, "To have a chat with you, mon Soldat." The American skeptically cocked his dripping, helmeted head up into the rain.
"And if I don't?" he retorted.
"I zought the outcome of noncompliance was clear. You will be forced to part ways with your brutish shoulder-cannon for good. You really have no choize."
Soldier took a moment to weigh his options and his pride before setting the masked man back into the mud.
"Fine, Frenchie. Let's get this chat over with."
Together they trodded down a back path to the Spy's quarters. It was tastefully furnished, with worn and moth eaten cobalt boudoir curtains. A blue velvet bedspread hung over the edges of a large four-post bed in the center of the room and the air hung hazily grey with old smoke. Spy gestured to a wood and velveteen armchair before reaching for a green decanter.
Soldier warily sat, keeping his posture painfully rigid. Inside he pondered what this cheese eating surrender monkey was up to. With his back to the American, the Spy prepared the drinks. Across the top of each glass he laid a silver utensil and a sugar cube, pouring some water from a pitcher over it.
"Here you are," he said, handing the fragile glass of green liquid to his guest. The Soldier regarded it with wild-eyed skepticism.
"It is simply Absinthe, mon ami, drink. It eez not poison, see?" he tipped his own glass to his soft lips and sipped.
The man in red quirked his lips in annoyance, bringing the glass to his own chapped and cracked lips. In one swift swig he poured the glass' contents down his throat. Spy sat up quickly and reached out, startled at first. He hadn't planned on the man taking his drink like a shot. As the man in front of him began spinning, however, he settled back in his seat with a grin.
"What the fuck was THAT," grumbled the American, who was fighting to maintain equilibrium.
"That, mon cher, was Absinthe," spoke the Spy in a collected tone. "The Green Fairy. Wormwood spirits." Soldier's head bobbled, and his arms searched for purchase on the armchair. Spy waited, calculating.
"You... This chair is bigger than it was. This room is unsteady... Make it stop, maggot," Soldier mumbled angrily with a touch of rare helplessness.
Spy lithely stepped out of the chair and sauntered behind his red-clad guest. He grazed a finger along the man's shoulder, gauging the reaction. His garbled reply was backed up by no act of violence, so the Frenchman continued.
"It appears you've placed yourself in a compromising position, Soldat," spoke the man in blue behind his ear, "To think I was plotting and preparing for weeks. I didn't have to lift a finger. The Absinthe was simply meant to loozen you up. You have quite effectively handed yourself to me..." He hooked his black polished shoe around a leg of the chair, drawing it across the wooden floor with a skid.
Tipping the chair on its feet, he deposited the Soldier on the blue bed with a thump. The American groaned, flopping his arms over his face.
"Tut, tut," chided the Spy, "How can I zee your face like that?" He crawled on the bed and over the Soldier, resting the man's arms above his head. The army man grasped his suit cuffs lightly, holding onto him like an anchor in the spinning room.
"There we are," the Frenchman cooed while pulling the other's helmet off. He set his knees along either side of the man's hips, squarely straddling him. The man in red groaned, flexing his neck tightly and turning his reddening face to the side.
Purring, the Spy dipped in to graze his lips against the exposed skin of the American's neck. The man below huffed and his hips ground up of their own accord. Spy's hooded eyes snapped open, and he chuckled against the other man's ear.
"Eager, are we?" he posed, grinding his hips down to meet Soldier's. A strangled moan exited the army man's lips, and he bit the bedspread to stifle it. The Frenchman continued to nuzzle and nip his neck, grinding into the canvas covered erection of the red clad man below.
"I will show you zings you have never had before," whispered the rogue in his ear huskily. With glove clad hands the BLU made his way down to the bottom of his shirt, languidly popping each standard issue button out of its hole. The intoxicated man writhed with anticipation, all the while with eyes squeezed shut and labored breath.
"Faster, maggot," rasped the Soldier. Spy shucked the man of his shirt, moving down to the zipper and button of his cavalier pants. He worked the button out, then ran the gold zipper apart at its teeth. Soldier hissed, bucking unconsciously to the hand at his crotch while gnashing the blue velvet bedspread along his canines. The Frenchman revealed his cotton briefs, straining with the hot, trapped erection beneath.
Spy mercifully released his member into the cool air. Before allowing himself any further touching, he glided the other man's pants off of his legs with his boots. The sight of the muscular man before him, adorned with scars, legs spread wide, writhing and dangling off his bed was thrilling. He loosened his tie and went to work undressing. After his clothes were in a heap on the floor, Spy clamored back to the edge of his bed. With a grunt of strength he pushed the American another half a meter or so back. With each movement Soldier's member bounced tantalizingly in the air.
The rogue ran his hooked nose down a clavicle, diverting at a nipple to mouth at, then brushing the navel tenderly with his nose. An opportunity like this is rare, he thought, so he would savor it. He pressed onward, cheek brushing the thatch of pubic hair surrounding the Soldier's cock. Soldier moaned thickly, twisting his hand into the bed, the other shakily rising to rest on Spy's shoulder. His fingernails scraped innocuously along his skin, a silent plea for action.
Locking the middle finger if his glove between his front teeth, the Spy extricated his bare hand from its confines. He wasted no time in wrapping it around the thick circumcised cock before him, relishing in the pants it drew from his captive.
Spy drew his hand tip to bottom, cradling the balls occasionally while his other hand maintained a steady grip on the American's hip. Soldier's stern jaw slackened under the Frenchman's touch, much to the dismay of his last bastions of sense.
The naked hand flitted back to its owner's mouth.
"Look at me, Soldat," ordered the Spy. With much effort, the man below pried his eyes open.
"You must watch zis."
The fingers of Spy's bare hand made its way into his own mouth. His tongue swiveled around the pads, all the way down to the spaces between where he held his cigarette. The American watched silently as the other tongued his own digits slowly. Spy pulled the fingers from the prison of his mouth and down between the legs of the RED. The slick fingers brushed his ass, sending shudders down his spine.
The rogue grinned before pressing in gently with his index finger. Soldier naturally tensed up at the intrusion, clamping down on the foreign body worming its way into him. He breathed raggedly as a second was added, twisting into him and testing his pliancy. His toes curled unbidden when the fingers encountered a lump.
"Uhhn," he breathed an octave higher, causing a part of his brain to want to die.
"Oh ho, eet seems I have found your sensitive spot..." mused Spy. He curled his fingers in one last time before pulling out. Soldier huffed and let his eyes settle closed again. Spitting into his palm, the BLU drew the natural lubricant down his own throbbing dick.
"Prepare yourself, mon cher," he breathed before pushing the head of his member against the tight hole. Soldier's cloudy eyes popped open and his hands grasped at Spy's back, his mouth unhinged from the intense burning in his ass.
Spy pressed slowly in, his dick rolling through the tight muscle. The American's legs tensed and latched around his hips, gripping in an attempt to stop him from moving further. The legs, however, only served to hold Spy in place as he increased his rhythm to a steady tempo. Soldier swore, dropping his head back into the velvet for a bite-hold.
Experimentally, the Frenchman changed his angle a few times, searching for the spot he had encountered in his fingering. One upward thrust met it mark, sending the RED's head flopping back with a hiss.
"There... Right THERE, maggot," Soldier managed between grunts.
Spy obliged, delving over and over again with increased fervor against the soft, wet nerves inside. Their bodies bounced together, aided by the sheen of sweat both were exuding. Soldier was beginning to work off some of the drug in his system, but reminded focused on the task at hand.
From above, Spy watched the face of the square-jawed American contort in lust, his cheeks crimson and shiny with a mixture of sweat and tears. The pure need was too much, he observed. The Frenchman snapped his hips forward again and again, biting his lip in concentration. The thighs locked about his waist tightened and the arms behind his back drew him in with newfound force.
"Come for me," Spy gasped in his captive's ear.
Soldier burst with a strangled cry, jetting his seed between their bodies. His spasms both inside and out drew around Spy, pulling and pressing on his cock with enough force to send him over the edge with a choked yell. His seed gushed inside the heat of the American's ass, dribbling down both of their thighs.
Spy collapsed on top, panting while his head spun in ecstasy. Soldier likewise gasped for air while coming down from his high. They both lay sated for a time, enjoying the warmth of their afterglow. The masked man reached into a bedside cabinet and withdrew two cigarettes. He lit them and handed one to his bed-mate wordlessly. Soldier held it limply in his fingers, the reality of what just transpired setting in. Spy sucked the smoke into his lungs, jettisoning it languidly through his nostrils.
"I never had your Rocket Launcher."
Hmmm, well for a general outline I guess I would like for it to be Spy helping Soldier experiment with being sexually submissive and soldier finding out (to his dismay) that he isn't as opposed to the role as he initially thought he would be.)
That's all for now. Crit and requests are both welcome, as I said before. Enjoy, guys!
I applause for trying such rare pairings as Heavy/Spy and Spy/Soldier. It's always nice reading something different for a change.
When I read the first fic I felt sorry for Heavy through the whole story. Until I read the very last line. That was great and I'm glad you gave him more credit than just being a stupid giant he is usually described as.
There were a few typos here and there, but nothing too disturbing. You should get a beta-reader who could check the text before posting. I know it's not easy to notice your own mistakes after you've spent so much time writing it.
As a huge fan of Sniper and Spy I'm requesting that! Gotta love love-hate relationships.
General crit: I hope you also explore other types of sexy interactions. Gimme some more flirting, dirty talking without touching, teasing, orgasm denial...etc etc etc.
Engie/Sniper: In the future, I don't think you should change the spelling of "I" to fit accents. I believe that written accents should not be heavy handed--just one or two words per sentence, plus some local slang, is enough to suggest that they're not speaking perfect English.
Spy/Soldier: Can't say I was a big fan of the repeated use of "the rogue" (I'm guessing it's because I'm a huge D&D nerd and seeing that term threw me out of the story every time). And personally, I'm not a fan of dubious consent--if you're going to write unwanted sex, I'd rather you commit to the idea all the way and make it outright forced by one party. For me, "I didn't want it we started, but now it's so arousing I can be okay with it" has far more disturbing implications than straight up rape.
I love you for doing these pairings
Kudos for writing extremely rare pairings!
Objectively speaking, I don't really have any concrit for the Spy/Heavy one, it's very well-written. The description of Heavy's huge size and stregnth in particular were... strangely sexy. I'm not into big men at all, but damn if the portrayal of his overwhelming power didn't sound attractive.
The only criticism I can think of is a subjective one: I wish Spy hadn't been repulsed and horrified. I mean, just because Honey Traps work by seducing somebody you normally wouldn't sleep with, doesn't mean you have to hate every second of it when you spring it. I would have much preferred it if Spy had been all "ew, I have to seduce the fat man, the things I do for my job!" at first, then be pleasantly shocked when Heavy turned out to be a very skilled lover.
As for the Spy/Soldier one, I think the ending is meant to be humorous, but really, I don't think funny quips belong in dub-con. Plus, I can't imagine Soldier won't beat Spy into a bloody pulp now.
Anyway, you said you are taking requests. Do you only accept vague ones, or are fairly detailed ones acceptable too?
<i>And personally, I'm not a fan of dubious consent--if you're going to write unwanted sex, I'd rather you commit to the idea all the way and make it outright forced by one party. For me, "I didn't want it we started, but now it's so arousing I can be okay with it" has far more disturbing implications than straight up rape</i>
Dot, no offence since I love 90% of your fics and think you are a very skilled writer, but while I fully agree with the general sentiment, you did write an extremely creepy Spy/Scout's mom/Sniper fic where they beat Sniper down, tie and gag him, and have sex with him even while he begs them to stop, and even though it's obviously rape it's presented as "Sniper is pretending he doesn't want it but he really loves it and it's wonderful!" That was pretty damn disturbing.
Thank you all for the speedy crit and compliments! Dot, I know what you mean about the dubious consent. Truth be told, that was the hardest fic for me to write. Because of it being drug-centric though, I took some consent leeway. And yes, Soldier is likely to mop the compound with Spy's corpse after that.
I'd be more than happy to take both vague and detailed prompts. I'll try to get that fic for Anon #6 done. What do you have in mind, Millia?
I don't have anything constructive to say other than good job!! If you are taking prompts then I'd like to see medic/engineer or Medic/spy smut, specifically top medic, we don't seen enough of that
I'd like to see something with this old prompt, please.
Spy and Soldier are fighting in Coldfront or some other freezing place, when an explosion causes them to plummet into an underground cavern and knocks them out. Soldier's helmet protected his head for the most part and after a few hours he regains consciousness, but Spy won't wake up.
It's nighttime, it's so dark it's impossible to see if there is a way out of the carvern, and the temperature has dropped so much that unconsciousness would lead to death.
Maybe Respawn is turned off after ceasefire, maybe Soldier doesn't want to leave a teammate behind even if everybody can be brought back to life, maybe Soldier is simply too insane to realize that Respawn exists. Whatever the reason, Soldier decides to keep Spy alive by "warming him up".
Basically what I want to see if a rape fic that's not brought on by lust, cruelty, selfishness or some misguided idea that arousal equals consent, but rather by a sincere concern for the survival of a teammate. Soldier is honestly convinced that one of his companions in arms will die unless he finds a way to keep him warm (and depending on your take, he might be right too), and thinks that sex is the most efficient way of producing warmth (logical extreme of the "strip naked and cuddle under a blanket" survival strategy).
Would be interesting to see Spy's reaction after the fact, too, especially if he wakes up at morning in Soldier's arms. Furious or forgiving, grudge-carrying or grateful... You decide.
This is a pretty fussy prompt, so please nevermind if you think it's too much of a chore, thanks anyway for listening :)
I like the idea that Soldier is too insane to know about Respawn.
I really enjoyed all of these. It's great to finally see more sex for these rare pairings!
I also liked the weird consent issues in them (or i guess, the first and third). It's nice to see dub-con/non-con that isn't bloody'n'violent. I liked that heavy wasn't overly forceful, and I like how Spy just genuinely did not want it.
And drugged-dubious-consent sex is also great. Just great.
For a request, I'd like to see Scout/Soldier, with an aggressive Scout and a Soldier that likes taking orders.
I also second >>7's comment about lightening up on the accents. We all know how they speak, and when they're written heavily like that, it's distracting and takes away from the writing.
I have a little difficulty suspending my disbelief with the Spy/Soldier one. Mainly because Absinthe isn't really a hallucinogen, and while it's about 20% stronger (alcohol per volume) than, say, whiskey, Spy DID dilute it, as you're meant to, and the Soldier only had one drink. Sure there's such a thing as a lightweight, but if that were the case, I'd expect it to be mentioned. There's also priming the glass with a chosen drug, or, like the Dread Pirate Roberts, spiking both drinks and being immune to the chosen additive. Personally though, I'd like it better if it was an act on Soldier's part, or better still, a psycho-somatic reaction to the alcohol, cooked up by his brain to excuse the fact that he's interested in what the Spy has to offer. In other words, a false drunkenness, entirely imagined, to allow for plausible deniability when he submits to the Spy's (and his own) desires, of which he may not even be aware.
That's my crit, there. Actually, have you ever tried absinthe? The first time I had it, it was handed to me in a Christmas mug, as I sat on an air mattress under a canopy of fairy lights, watching Holy Mountain being projected on the ceiling while a girl in a Saran-wrap enclosure behind me attempted to glue romaine to the wall with ketchup and barbecue sauce. It was about that time I realized I was in Art School and things were about to get a little weird. But, none of that had anything to do with the absinthe.
Fuck it, I'm posting this. Alright, so I decided to take up Millia's prompt first. It spoke to me.
Thanks for the compliments and concrit! On the subject of Absinthe, yeah, it isn't a drug, but its pretty sensationalized so I ran with it a bit. I did work on lightening up my accents a bit also.
Freizeit: Rabbit Cage
Spy braced against the cold wooden face of Coldfront’s cabin point, cupping his hand around the cherry of his cigarette. The cutting wind assaulted his eyes and obfuscated the terrain of the base in white flurries of ice. He swore as a gust pushed his thin blue clad frame away from the building and down into a bank of snow.
“How couth,” he grumbled to himself, glancing about to see if any of his teammates had observed his smoothness.
No one had seen his little blunder, so he brushed himself off and sidled down the length of the building. In the distance he could hear the sounds of gunshots and explosions. How any of the men could aim properly in this blizzard was beyond him...
He climbed along the slope to snoop for any detestable Australians that might be taking aim from a ledge. His feet slipped on the uneven terrain, and he cursed the snow for making his job so difficult.
From below a thunderous boom resounded. Spy turned quickly to the source of the noise, brandishing his knife instantly. Snow exploded from the base of the cliff he had climbed. The ground beneath the Frenchman began to rumble, the brittle stone of the frozen cliff cracking apart from the jarring of the incendiary.
Spy cried out in terror when the snow parted before him, forming a yawning chasm that swallowed the him whole.
The Soldier had found that battles in tundras were well suited to his skills. The man was no stranger to the biting cold, having experience in his Post-War "tour" of Europe. He tromped over the powder and ice with a spring in his heavy metal boots, rocket launcher swung over his shoulder proudly. The cold air entered his lungs, invigorating him, intensifying his bloodlust.
The army man scanned the hills. From his current position he couldn't see anyone camped in the hills, but that didn't mean they weren't out there. He jogged to the base of a cliff, his blue sergeant's coat shuffling with his steps.
He paused and surveyed the points. A flash of red caught his eye near the central point, and he readied his rocket launcher, spreading his stance and depositing his weight on his haunches.
The soldier swiveled, catching the image of the red Demoman hurling a pipe bomb against the cliff above them. Rocks and snow began to cascade down the cliff's face around the Soldier. His old friend took a swig of Scrumpy and waved the bottle at him, his last image before being engulfed in the fallout of the avalanche.
When the Soldier came to his senses he was confused to find that he was in pitch black and couldn't move his limbs. He huffed and grunted, reaching for his entrenching tool, pivoting his chest to create some room.. His fingers closed around his shovel and he took a careful breath.
Yanking with all his strength, Soldier began to beat at the darkness with his body and his trusty tool. It clanged against the rocks around him, the scraping resounding in the enclosed space sharply. It found a hold between two rocks, and the American pried them apart, his arm and back muscles rippling with the strain.
The rocks abruptly parted, sending Soldier headlong onto the stone ground. He sprang to his feet and gazed around. From what he could tell, he was in some sort of cavern. The pile of rocks he had crawled out of reached the ceiling. Stalactites hung from the ceiling and icicles hung from those stalactites. The lighting in the cavern was very poor, coming from a tiny opening about ten meters above him.
He kept his shovel in hand, padding around the cave ready for anything to spring out of the darkness. Within the cave there was no sound, save the whistling of wind above and his heavy steps on the calcite ground.
Turning a corner, something caught his eye: a dark form curled on the ground. He approached it with his entrenching tool at the ready, just in case a little decapitation was in the cards. As he came closer, however, it became clear who this was. His team's Spy was sprawled on the ground, looking nearly as blue as his own suit.
Soldier jumped to action. He threw his shovel to the side, dropping to the ground to look over his teammate's body. A large purple bruise showed above his eye through his damaged balaclava. He lowered his head to Spy's, listening for the sound of breathing. A shallow rasp rattled from the unconscious man.
Somewhere inside Soldier could feel the whisperings, the ones that started ever since he got back from Europe. Whisperings that told him that his cohort's demise-- permanent demise-- was imminent if he didn't move fast.
He reached down and secured his arms about the man, hefting him to sit against a stray boulder. The unconscious man flopped onto his side, and Soldier began to feel a twinge of panic.
Remember, he thought, remember back to what...
The idea snapped into his head. Shared warmth. He had heard it described as a survival technique before but, always running solo, had never utilized it.
Soldier crouched next to the man, running his hands against the cold face of his counterpart. There was no response from Spy. He sped his hands up, bunching and stretching the man's mask while trying to revive the Frenchman.
It obviously wasn't working.
"Shit," breathed the American in frustration, wracking his brain for a better solution. Then a very odd memory popped into his head. He recalled when he was first dealing with puberty, dealing with his urges in absolute secrecy. He would sneak out of his house in the early morning to the outhouse on the edge of the property to take care of his morning issues. It didn't matter how bitterly freezing it was outside, after his little sessions he always felt intensely warm afterwards.
Tentatively Soldier reached up, setting a heavy hand on the other man's chest. The beat was faint within. He looked down again to the knocked out Frenchman. His head hung limply, his blue tinged lips unhinged, completely slack. From inside Soldier was urged on, little hisses of encouragement bubbling from his psychotic subconscious. He pushed the half-formed entities from his head, taking a deep breath. If this would save his teammate, he resolved, then he'd do it.
His hand drew to the top of the other man's shirt, fiddling with the silk tie. Large fingers fumbled with the knot, pulling it apart with difficulty. He reached down farther and began to undo the button's of the other man's jacket and vest. Buttons, so many buttons.
Once he had stripped the man of his outermost garments, he drew in closer to remove his shirt. Soldier's large arms drew around the man, lifting the white cotton piece over his teammate's head. Without thinking, the American reached back up and uncovered the man's face. His skin was darker around his eyes and mouth, his black hair was matted and streaked in silver along the sides, and his hooked nose had a scar along its bridge. The American took a moment to observe this man, never having seen him so intimately before, though he quickly brushed the train of thought aside. Spy was reduced to his last undershirt, and Soldier left him with that.
The American paused when he realized that this undressing was causing his own body to heat up. He took a moment to shake it off as natural response, even though his heavily entrenched masculinity seemed to be challenged by it. That would be something he'd deal with AFTER he saved his teammate.
Next he moved to the pants. Very carefully he pulled the button out of its hole, then drew the zipper down. Underneath he found a pair of black silk briefs, shining in the the sparse light of the cavern. He moved his calloused hands along Spy's waist, peeling his thin legs of their pinstriped slacks. His back slipped down the boulder with the tugging, and Soldier righted him.
Now Soldier was alone in a frozen cave with a mostly naked unconscious Frenchman.
He closed his eyes and set his dented helmet on the ground. He had a life to save.
Crawling to sit beside Spy, he readjusted their bodies so that he was against the rock and Spy was held snug in his arms with his back facing him. His cheeks flushed and he tried his damnedest to ignore the growing lump in his own pants. Soldier's right hand snaked down slowly, reaching underneath the other man's shirt to feel his chest.
The Spy's chest was warmer than his face and extremities had been, Soldier noticed. He felt around his chest, fingers passing over the peppering of black hair around his nipples that trailed into his waistband. The American pinched a nipple experimentally. The cold body in his arms didn't respond.
Soldier frowned. He'd have to step it up, he reasoned.
The hand drew farther down, following the path of curly black hair laid out before him. His fingers pried at the silk fabric, reaching in and searching around. The soft member his hand encountered gave him pause. He patted it with some uncertainty before reaching around to stroke it. It was long, uncircumcised unlike his own, and about as warm as his chest had been.
Soldier tugged the flesh slowly and methodically, imposing all the skill he had acquired over his many years of mastrubating. The pulse in Spy's groin began to increase, which spurred him on. He pulled a little faster, feeling the man begin to plump under his touch.
His own erection remained hidden under his fatigue pants, pressing lightly against the back of Spy's body.
The American worked him over in his hand, feeling encouraged by the warm and solid erection the man was growing. He buried his face into the crook of Spy's neck and increased his pace. His fingers tugged at the warm European's cock quickly and efficiently. Spy's body rocked back and forth slightly from the arm manipulating him, and Soldier found a surface upon which he could get some friction to his neglected member.
Spy's blue cheek fell against Soldier's. The Army man tentatively nuzzled his stubbled jaw along it, all the while furtively jerking the the other man off. The lips that barely brushed his nose were icy, a reminder of just why he was doing this.
In his mind, Soldier decided he needed a next step. He couldn't fail his comrade. Thinking quickly, he crawled back around to the front of Spy and laying him back against the boulder. He unbuttoned his own blue overcoat and draped it on the ground a foot away. With the utmost care he lifted the Spy's ragdoll frame and laid him on top of the coat.
Settled on his haunches, Soldier gathered up all off the Frenchman's discarded clothing. Using the collected articles, he built a nest around the Spy and himself. Once it was complete he leaned in to enclose the man, pooling their heat together with the nest as insulation.
Soldier could feel the prodding of Spy's half-satisfied erection against his clothed him. He reached down to undo his fatigues, bracing on one arm so as not to crush the lanky body below. His fingers fiddled with the button and zip until they finally gave way, then delving next into his briefs. He released a breath of relief after his erection was freed from its cotton confines.
Soldier jumped when he heard the man in his arms draw a heavy breath: the first one he had heard since he found him in this state. This must be working.
Wriggling a hand between them, Soldier searched with his fingers. His palm found Spy's dick, then his. With calloused, warm fingers he pulled the two members together. The American braced with both arms alongside Spy now, letting his hips take over. He rocked against the unconscious man, rubbing their cocks together in earnest.
It feels so damn good, he thought, gasping over his teammate's body. Below him, the Frenchman took another deep breath. Color was filling his cheeks. Soldier rutted against him on the cave floor, watching warmth visibly fill the man again.
Spy twitched beneath him, causing him to slow down in case he was lucid. But there were no vociferations, so Soldier continued his work. A hand came to rest the army man's back, pulling him with very minute force closer. He looked into the face of the Spy. His eyes were still shut, not tightly, as if he was sleeping. His mouth hung ajar very slightly.
It was time to finish this, Soldier decided.
He rocked back and forth with carefully contained power, reaching between them and wrapping a fist around both of their dicks. In quick sporadic tugs he sent first Spy over the edge, then himself. When Spy came he groaned low in his chest, sending spurts of seed between their warmed bodies. Soldier bit his lip to bleeding, stifling his cry as he released against both of their stomachs.
Exhausted, the American collapsed half on top of Spy. His body curled protectively around the smaller man, a sort of instinctual reaction. Sleepiness tugged at his eyes. He tried to will it away, but in the end it claimed him. Blackness diffused into his vision and he was carried off.
"Wake up, idiot!"
A gloved hand smacked against Soldier's crew cut head, and he started up.
Spy sat, fully clothed, against the boulder from before. He had a cigarette in hand that added a faint glow to the cavern. Soldier scrambled around, trying to find his helmet. As he patted the ground he recalled the things which had transpired right before he had fallen asleep.
A deep blush settled on his chilled cheeks.
"I must say, I never expected such methods from you," spoke the Spy into the dark. Soldier winced inside, ready for an assault on his manhood.
Thank you so much for writing it! It was perfect, I really liked it!
You put XXXX beer into your story, you have know idea how happy this makes me.
Also "he had a life to save" - classic.
18 Thanks, Millia! Hope it filled your request to yer liking.
19 Haha, thanks! I encountered it when I was in Aus last and thought I'd give it a cameo. And yes, Soldier is a certified lifesaver... I suppose.
Not sure which fic to cobble up next... Thinking a little Science Party is in order since it's so neglected (and not to mention one of my favorites). Thoughts?
That was hot! I was surprised Solly was able to think clearly enough in such situation
I just love how tackle those rarer pairing... I can't wait to see what else you'll come up with.
May I request something short and sweet?
The gist of it is Medic dildoing when he's got a little bit of time alone in the infirmary.
Bonus points if he's fantasizing about Demoman...
Jackpot if Demo walks in on him for whatever reason...
The floor is yours!
Bless you on tackling all the rare-pairs! You're doing this fandom a favor like you wouldn't believe!
Excited about ScienceParty, seconding >>23 [was about to suggest Demo/Sniper or Demo/Spy myself but Demo/Medic is also 'licious and slightly less loved] and HeavySoldier would be my actual request. I'd imagine a competition of physical strength due to Soldier's dare which Heavy slowly realizes has a suspicious ...undertone to it?
Thank you all for your suggestions and kind words!
That Science Party fic will be completed soon enough, let's hope.
I'm sorry to bump this thread without a piece, but I want your opinions on this idea I'm mulling over in my head. The project I'm thinking of undertaking is a serial fic centering around Medic's upbringing. It's an idea that arises from my recent immersion in German and extensive German literary and philosophical study. Thoughts, guys?
If you're taking requests, I have a suggestion:
In the TV show Misfits, one of the characters has what I call a 'lust-touch.' Anyone who makes skin-to-skin contact enters a sexual frenzy.
What if one of the mercs had that ability?
How dare you forgetting to sage... I'm dying for the science party update already.
Sorry it took so goddamn long. Life was life-ing pretty hard.
It ain't my best work, but dammnit, I did it. My first non-non con or non-dub con fic. I'm not as versed in these.
Freizeit: Side Projects
Within the walls of the infirmary, Medic stirred his tea methodically, dissolving the settling crystals of sugar.
"Herr Techniker, how much time do you devote to your side projects?"
Dell sat back in his borrowed chair, rubbing the back of his neck in thought. He took a moment to respond.
"I suppose it about consumes all my free time. Why 'ya ask?"
Medic set his cup and saucer onto the desk, brushing his vest to settle its folds.
"Oh, nozhing. Curiosity," he replied. Engie took a moment to scrutinize his face. Evident was a twinge of hidden intent and some other obfuscated emotion.
"If you'd like to see what all I do, I'd be more than happy to show you around my shop," the Texan blurted. After saying it, he wondered if maybe he had offered a little more than he was comfortable with. His shop was his sanctum, after all.
The light in Medic's eyes combined with own curiosity, however, kept him from rescinding his offer.
Both men walked down the halls, chatting about their long-running joint projects. Engineer discreetly watched the man's motions, picking them apart to uncover the secret beneath.
When they reached the heavy bolted door, Dell unsheathed his Gunslinger from his glove and fit his mechanical index finger into the lock, turning it like a key.
"Fascinating," murmured Medic beside him, and he grinned.
"Keeps the Spies out, anyhow. I figured they wouldn't be able to pick that lock even if they tried their damndest."
The German nodded, following him into the dark workshop.
Engie flicked the light on in the workshop, illuminating the concrete room. Desks and workbenches, tools and crates, rolls of blueprints and square pencils all laid out very efficiently-- though not without an acceptable degree of disorder. Medic paced slowly through the room, taking in all the details with his critical eye.
"This is where it all happens," said Engie as he walked among the half-formed contraptions of his own design. "This here is a new sentry model I've been working on, and here's my latest shock absorber for use in prostheses-- I thought you'd get a kick out of that-- and here is-..."
Dell stopped mid-sentence, looking back at Medic. The man's gloved hand was resting on his shoulder. A strange look fixed him.
"Go on," whispered the man authoritatively behind him. Engie stood stiff, trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events. The hand resting on his shoulder felt like a fresh sunburn and his heart was beating a mile a minute.
"I... Uh," he stammered, trying to gain a handle on the strange torrent of sensations and thoughts coursing through his brain.
The doctor pulled him around by his shoulder slowly, making eye contact with him. Dell stared wide eyed as the other man pulled him in close.
"Your intellect, Herr, is beyond that of any man I have evah encountered," Medic whispered into his ear. One of the German man's arms snaked around him and up his shirt. Engie gasped, and grasped the man's lapels.
"Likewise," he gasped, holding onto the man tightly. The contact was electric, and he slowly let his guard down to melt into it.
Medic grinned and kissed his neck, ghosting his breath up to his ear before gently nibbling on it. Dell sucked in a breath of air and threw his arms around the other man to keep him close. Each brush of skin contact increased his craving for more.
With a devious smile, Medic set to removing his gloves and coat. Engie, too, set to work on removing his overalls, leaving them both in their undergarments. When they had accomplished this, Dell was guided onto his own bed in the corner of the shop. Medic laid him down, running his hands over the Engineer's chest and arms. In turn, Engie kissed his neck and ran his hands through the doctor's greying hair.
"Under the bed," he managed between breaths, "are a few other projects."
Medic kissed his clavicle and pulled back to search. He scrabbled under the bed for a bit before pulling up a medium-sized cardboard box. Setting it on the bed, the German began to extricate its contents. His eyes gleamed at each contraption. He could guess their uses-- and given their inventor, their quality and power as well. The one that most intrigued him was a dual pronged contraption.
"Can you guess what it's for?" chuckled Engie on his back.
"If I vere to hazard a guess, I vould say its intended application is for... Ze nipples?"
Medic grinned devilishly and crawled on top of him, readjusting his glasses.
"I must see how you react to zis..." he whispered, turning the dial on to its lowest setting. Lowering the device onto Engie's nipple, he was delighted not only to see the instantaneous hardening of the flesh, but also the man's arch and moan that followed it. He moved to the other nipple, receiving the same--yet slightly more subdued-- reaction. Medic could feel the hardening in the other's undershorts against him.
Cranking the dial up two clicks, the doctor resumed his experiment. As soon as the higher voltage was applied to his nipple, Dell arched and clawed at the other man's back, writhing against his bed sheets like an animal in heat.
"I can't wait, Doc... Please," he begged.
"As you vish, Herr Techniker," breathed the doctor into his ear before kissing it.
The German's hands fiddled with the box again, pulling out a tube of lubricant. He pointed to it with his other hand with a questioning look, and Engie nodded profusely. The doctor slathered his fingers in the slick substance, while his counterpart spread his legs wide and threw an arm over his flushed face.
With expert motions, Medic coaxed his fingers along the tight entrance, applying light pressure. Dell moaned, attempting to get his legs even farther apart. The doctor pressed in his index finger first, twisting and wriggling it inside. A second one joined it eventually, then a third. By the last digit, Engie was incomprehensible. It brought a wicked smile to the German's face.
"I'm ready doc, please, just do it."
"If you say so, mein schönes Herr."
With a quick application of lube to his own member and a little aiming, Medic pressed into Engie completely. The pulsing heat and tightness made him ache so wonderfully inside, and he drove forward with a strangled cry. Meanwhile, Engie cursed and pulled the man closer. The Texan's trapped erection was pressed and pulled between their bodies.
They rocked together roughly, with the Engineer's legs slung around Medic's hips. The box on the side of the bed fell with a thump as they rolled over.
Engie sat up on his haunches, drawing himself down on the prone doctor. Medic swore in German and grasped the Texan by his hips to fuck him with abandon.
Dell gasped and threw his head back, bouncing on the doctor's dick.
"Ach... So schön..." Medic moaned while gripping Engie's ass tightly.
"Mother 'uh mercy, doc..." gasped Engie, "I'm real close..."
"Ich auch," nodded the German, whose eyes were shut tight in pleasure. Sweat rolled down their bodies and slicked their thrusts into rolling, fluid motions. Coarse grunts mixed with hissing breath filled the room, culminating into a cacophony not unlike a steam engine.
Medic grabbed Engie by the shoulders and rolled him back over, pounding furiously into him.
"Ich komme jetz!"
"Ughhh, Doc, yes..."
Dell's release was captured between their stomachs, and he shuddered as each spurt left him. The doctor's release filled Engie up, adding to the pleasurably searing sensation. They remained in that position for some time, regaining their breath and allowing their relaxed bodies to share warmth. The Texan kissed Medic warmly.
"Next time we try some of mein side projects."
I was wondering, OP, if you spoke German at all?
Why yes! I've studied it for three years. It's my minor in college, and I'm actually going to be studying just south of Stuttgart soon.
... Did you find any errors? Geez, that'd be embarrassing...
I found you on the non-con thread in 4chan! I want to comment on everything you write, you might consider posting on ao3! (also, I noted the Ramsey/Reek art you posted and I eagerly hope you write for them as well! )