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No. 8096
SINCE THE OLD ONE IS AUTOSAGING, HERE WE GO. Previous thread is >>7397, if anyone needs a quick link.

Unfilled requests:

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>> No. 8101
Am in the process of the Van fic. It's an interesting (an uncommon) pair. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
>> No. 8102
love my awesome grammar guys? Ugh, yeah sage for this. I'm way to tired today fff...
>> No. 8103
>uncommon pairing
>> No. 8104
I take it you mean the on-Spy-or-Scout one right? 'Cause if that's so I'm snagging the schoolboy Scout one.
>> No. 8105
File 126084581136.png - (97.15KB , 370x1112 , wot.png )

... D:
>> No. 8106
>>8104 if you mean the no-Spy-or-Scout one, then yes :>
>> No. 8108
Anon, you must write more and more!
>> No. 8109
Sniper's funtime raep van? Yes plz.
>> No. 8111
even I'D want to go there, with a name like that
>> No. 8112
Ahhh! This was so cute and hot! Thank you so much, anon! I didn't expect to enjoy it so much and now I want more of these two.
>> No. 8113
Pyro fic was excellent - must have more Pyro!
>> No. 8114

My smile is as large as Saxton Hale's pecs, and twice as frightening. Cheers!

>Jarate with Sniper/Anyone else (preferably an OCDomfgcleanlinessisgodliness Medic)

How Medic learned to stop worrying and love Jarate. Sorry for lack of porn!

You had to walk a thin line with dangerous animals, Sniper knew. You had to go slow and steady to keep them from panicking, but if you gave them enough space to get their heads around the problem, they'd realise that the whole issue could be fixed by tearing you apart. You had to keep them thinking more of escape than of taking you down, had to keep them poised to flee right up until you were dead on top of them and could deal the final blow. Low voices, steady movements.

"Carn, sweetheart," Sniper said soothingly to the empty room, one hand behind his back. "I ain't gonna hurt ya."

"Fahr zur Hölle!" Medic was trying to go for that Tell Me Where It Hurts (And How To Make It Hurt Even More) face, Sniper could see, the frightening one that could send the best of them running in fear from the examination rooms. The whole effect was ruined, however, by the fact that Medic was cowering behind a desk with only his eyes and frown peeking up above the edge, making him look like nothing so much as a malevolent stapler. "Get that filth away from me!"

"Wot, that? Don't have any on me. 'Cause you hate it. So I ain't gonna try to get you to like it any more."

"Lies!" Medic's eyes flickered to the bonesaw on the desk, and Sniper willed himself not to sweat. He was fond of his bones the way they were, bung knee and all.

"Mate, maaaate. Don't y'think this is all a bit ridiculous?" It was time for a serious tone to cut through the tension, something to dial down Medic's panic. The eyes shot back to him, brows knitted in confusion. "You're hidin' under a table," Sniper explained patiently. "Unless you were the one that texta'd a moustache on Sasha yesterday, y'don't have a reason."

The four visible inches of Medic frowned, a little shamefaced at the realisation that a professional man in his forties was hiding like a child in a couch fort. Sniper, a man with a lifelong fondness for tree forts, did not think Medic's panicked choice of refuge was particularly silly, although on the whole he would have preferred that it hadn't contained incredibly sharp medical implements.

Sniper shrugged innocently and let his body move with the gesture, slipping forward again like he had been the whole time, slowly inching towards the desk. Nearly had him. "I just want to have a friendly word with ya. You didn't mind it those other times we had our little chats, eh?"

(He most certainly had not. Sniper's command of the German language was growing every week, at least when concerning anatomy, commands, entreaties, and, because it was Medic, furious insults about his parentage, performance, and personal hygiene.)

"But you were... You have that..." Medic looked down thoughtfully, much to Sniper's delight, but then rallied himself, much to Sniper's instant horror. "This is a trick!"

Medic bolted. Sniper threw. Apparently the secrets of the Nazi regime had included teaching their medical staff how to body-check like dodgem cars, and as Medic went hurtling out of the room, Sniper crashed into the wall, the jar of Jarate that had been hidden behind Sniper's back going off-target and smashing on nothing except an innocent diploma.

Sniper grabbed at his bruised ribs and, grinning, gave chase.

Medic was embarrassingly fit. He may have had ten years on most the team, but he had at least two minutes on the mile over them. In this chase, however, he was at a disadvantage: Sniper only had to run after, but Medic had to run /away/.

They went over Demo, passed out but still grumbling in the mess room. Heavy was wandering down a corridor: Medic, used to working around him, didn't miss a beat in flattening himself around the other man and escaping; Sniper, not quite as nimble, nearly lost an eye on an artillery shell as he bounced off Heavy's chest. Medic left jackbooted prints over the blueprints Engie had spread out on the barn floor; Sniper ducked his way under an inexplicable series of plywood cows.

Trying to barrel through an uncooperative doorway-filling Scout was what eventually undid Medic. Paranoid about being caught for giving Sasha an extravagant moustache, a panicky Scout assumed that Medic was there to help deliver an equally extravagant beating. Pushing past him had turned out to be like wrestling a bag of smartmouthed coathangers, and it had cost Medic time.

Sniper managed to grab a handful of coattails on the stairwell, and Medic spat expletives and fricatives and god-knows-what-else at him as Sniper dragged him down.

Sniper rolled Medic over and smirked down at him, hat askew. His sense of romance, riled up by the chase, demanded that he growl a low, lusty "I'm going to have my wicked way with you now, m'darling," into Medic's ear.

His body, utterly defeated by having to do something other than sit there, pull triggers, and occasionally smoke, translated the smoothness of his line into a wheezing "oh god, me lungs, I think I broke me bloody lungs".

"An appealing idea." Medic had the gall to look completely unaffected, save for a slight mess of hair sticking appealingly to his brow. It was, Sniper thought, struggling for breath, completely unfair. "Well?" he asked, with an undertone of wariness. "Now what?"

Oh god, Sniper thought, don't give the bloody fool another reason to make a break for it. Maybe another tactic was in order. How did you get a doctor to get over that whole 'bodily fluids aren't hygienic' thing? Wait, that was the wrong question.

How did you get a /mad/ doctor to like something?

"Well, seein' as I'm sweatin' like a dog in Chinatown, I reckon we could head down to th' showers."

Medic remained suspicious. "And then?"

"And then we're gonna get all hygienic."


"And then... and then I'm gonna tell you all about," Sniper wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, "kidney failure."


"If you're good, I'll read you out the fine print about not even feeling y'own organs shuttin' down."

Medic eyed him up warily. "You don't feel a thing?"

"I'd cross my heart, but I'm not sure if it's still in the same place. Side-effects and all."


"If you're lucky," Sniper purred, "I'll let you dose me up."

There was a flush on Medic's face that had nothing to do with their run. "Well..."

Sniper helped Medic up, and taking him by the elbow, lead him off towards the showers. "Banned in seventy-three countries. Did I mention the health warnings? Never seen so many skulls in one place, mate..."
>> No. 8116
I... I think I love you.
>> No. 8117
>>Sniper managed to grab a handful of coattails on the stairwell, and Medic spat expletives and fricatives and god-knows-what-else at him as Sniper dragged him down.

This needs fanart in the best (worst?) possible way.
>> No. 8119
ugh, god, yes. sorry I AM A FAGGOT HUMP MY RUMP that's what i meant. i seem to get more retarded with my laptop keyboard as the days go by.
>> No. 8120
This was /exactly/ what I wanted. I love you... I would quote all the awesome things I loved in this, but then the whole thing would be here! Thank you~
>> No. 8121
>>the jar of Jarate that had been hidden behind Sniper's back going off-target and smashing on nothing except an innocent diploma.

NOOO!! Not the diploma!
>> No. 8122
So I think I started laughing at "malevolent stapler" and didn't stop. I LOVE THIS.
>> No. 8123
oh man
oh man oh man
Malevolent stapler
couch fort
>> No. 8124
>>Pushing past him had turned out to be like wrestling a bag of smartmouthed coathangers
This line is amazing. You're amazing.
>> No. 8125
Everything I enjoyed has already been quoted. So here's something I just found amusing.

>Sniper ducked his way under an inexplicable series of plywood cows.

Those damn cows scare me a little.

>Sniper's funtime raep van

I have found my favorite Sniper van nickname and am stealing the heck out of it now. Also, yay. Uncommon pairing? Seriously, I can't think of any common pairings for Sniper except Spy. Now I have no clue to what to expect. Arg. The suspense!
>> No. 8126
Scout's Mom, Sniper's Mom, and Demoman's Mom (yes) have a threesome.
>> No. 8127
I'm gonna do >>7485
>> No. 8129
I love you forever.
>> No. 8138
RED!Sniper/BLU!Sniper that became tldr. Part 2 will be coming.

BLU Sniper knew he was a dead man the moment he caught the reflection of a red dot hovering on the dead-fucking-dead center of his forehead. It took him way longer that it should, but the sun was reflecting off the broken glass of the window, glaring in his eyes, and when he finally did catch it, his immediate reaction was to duck his head, cursing and swearing and turning red with mortification.

And he knew what was coming—no sniper worth his salt would have let a shot that close go to waste—so he waited for that split-second pain, the moment when his head would be blown clear off.

He had ducked, but only because it was obvious thing to do. Bloody wanker must have been sighting him down for the longest time without him realizing it—and why was he even thinking? He should have been dead by now, headless and kissing the ground good-bye.

He waited, but it never came. Not even a shot or misfire.

The red dot was now against the wall. Sniper wasn’t even sure if it had moved. Still crouched underneath the window, Sniper fished out a tiny mirror from one of his pockets and held it up so that it peeked over the sill. The mirror caught the sun for a brief second and he squinted into the reflection, sighing when he couldn’t see a damn thing. Too far.

It was one of those days that he decided to play it safe than sorry. Respawn only worked half the time around here and he’d rather not take his chances with it. Sniper swore under his breath and crawled down from the battlements.


Even though it was hard to admit, the RED’s sniper, to be honest, was a good shot. An excellent one, even. Sniper had seen the man down three of his teammates in quick succession once, and not once had BLU Sniper been able to get the crosshairs on him.

He had spent a lot of nights in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if the RED Sniper was really that better than him. For the next couple of weeks, he started to keep track of the RED Sniper’s kills, and was unreasonably relieved when he found out that he slotted more REDs than what the other sniper got with BLUs. Or, that was what he hoped. There weren’t many ideal sniping spots besides the battlements of 2fort, so the loud claps of rifle shots were fairly easy to count.

Over time, BLU Sniper learned that his RED counterpart didn’t like to waste shots, which would explain the lower kill-count. It still didn’t make any of the RED’s shots less brilliant though, and probably emphasized each successful headshot. The RED apparently favored one-hit kills. Sniper could appreciate the efficiency, if not the loss of his teammates.

Medic, Heavy, and Soldier were making their way across the bridge, attempting to provide a distraction while Scout was escaping with the intel. Sniper watched over them, scope moving in a continuous sweep across the bridge and RED battlements.

“Right! I got it, I got it!” Scout’s voice crackled over the radio. “I’m comin’ over the bridge. Cover me, Snipes.”

It was only for a moment, but Sniper saw a red dot blink into existence on the roof of the bridge, followed by a glimpse of a rifle barrel poking out from the cracked boards on the RED’s battlements. Without pausing to aim properly, Sniper shot at it just to get the other sniper to withdraw while he grabbed his radio, thumbing the talk button with one eye to the scope.

“Scout! The other sniper knows you’re coming, get under the bridge with Medic and the rest of ‘em! Keep movin’ and he won’t get you.”

“I hear ya—“

And Sniper could see every detail of what happened next. Scout had taken his advice, making a run from the RED’s base on the ground, turning on his heel at random intervals to avoid sniper fire. Sniper had been pretty sure that the RED Sniper would have let the boy go. If moving targets were hard, then slotting a scout while he was dashing around was even tougher. It wasn’t the RED Sniper’s style to take multiple shots.

But when a spray of blood appeared on Scout’s shoulder, Sniper’s stomach turned. He could practically count the beats it took for the RED to reload—empty shell pinging on the floor, the slide of a fresh bullet into the chamber, snap of the bolt handle—and with the next crack of the rifle, Scout was bleeding on the dirt, clutching his leg.

Sniper counted the same three beats again and then Scout was nothing but a corpse with a hole through his head.

The RED had taken three shots. Sniper checked the enemy battlements again but found no sign of his counterpart. Three shots, one kill. He would have to think more on it, why it irked him so much, but only after he made sure that the rest of his team retreated safely back


BLU Sniper almost regretted that the respawn system had worked for Scout.

“What the fuck was that about, Sniper? ‘Keep moving’? Yeah, obviously, dumbass.”

Sniper raised his hands, trying to calm the younger man before a fight could start in the locker room. “I know! I’m sorry. I didn’t think the other sniper would take shots at—“ he shook his head, “—it ain’t his style. I thought he would’ve gone after Heavy—now don’t get angry, mate, everyone’s telling ya to keep those feet moving anyway.”

It was lucky that he been on the opposite side of the room as Heavy, but that didn’t stop the Scout from shoving him aside.

“The fuck do you mean about his style. You sit far away, you aim, and then you fucking shoot. There ain’t nothing stylish about that,” Scout snarled, leaving the locker room and slamming the door behind him.

The locker room fell silent. Sniper sat on one of the benches, mulling over the day’s events and frowning.

“How does the RED Sniper fight?” Spy said from behind him.

Sniper’s frown deepened as he turned his head. Of course Spy would want to know, the fucking spook, and he couldn’t really ignore him, even if there was a part of Sniper that wanted to keep the information to himself.

“The RED Sniper is a one-shot type of guy. Probably hates reloading, fuck if I know. Every successful kill he’s had so far? One bullet each,” he explained, “Well, up until today, that is. He took three shots; one to slow down Scout, one to cripple him, and the last to kill him,” he numbered each point with a finger, “Shoulder, leg, head. Completely out of character. He would’ve waited for a headshot.” And missed.

Spy took a drag from his cigarette, considering what Sniper had said. “Well. It doesn’t help me much, personally, but still I don’t understand why you are so happy about it, mon ami.”

Sniper hadn’t even realized he had been smiling.

“The damn bastard’s been watching me, that’s why,” he answered, the smile turning into a dark grin, “The three-shot style I told you about? That’s mine.”

“Ah. And you are angry, I suppose.”

“Not at all,” Sniper said, shouldering his rifle and closing his locker, “Just means I’m better than him.”

>> No. 8139
>> No. 8140
THIS IS AWESOME. Can't wait to see where it goes.
>> No. 8143
Oh, fuck /yes/.
>> No. 8144
Oh MAN. Um, hello professional rivalry. YES.
>> No. 8145
I am very excited about where this is going.
>> No. 8147
Thanks, guys! Here’s the last part. I apologize for the shoddy writing, I've been in a bit of a slump.

Prompt: >>7520
Part One: >>8138


The truth was, BLU Sniper didn’t want to admit to Spy that he had been learning from the RED Sniper as well. He found that if he could be patient enough, a single headshot was well worth the wait, though he still prefer to put his fast reloading skills to good use—but it was nice not having to stock up on bullets so much.

It was morning when Sniper came up to the battlements to prepare for the day. He poked his rifle out from the window, resting the muzzle on the edge. He sat down on the crate, not too worried about being zeroed in on. The sun shone towards the RED base in the morning and he had learned that the enemy sniper rarely aimed at certain spots during the day, and depending on where the sun was in the sky, Sniper was free to stick his head out from time to time.

Drinking his coffee, he checked the bridge for any sign of the REDs. It wasn’t long before he noticed a shimmering form hanging near the entrance of the RED base. Sniper kept the enemy spy within view of his scope, but didn’t train the pointer on him. It was only two minutes before the starting bell rang. He could wait.

But Sniper hadn’t counted on seeing his counterpart climb up from the corner of their base with a rifle balanced over his shoulder and half his face covered with a cup of coffee. Without realizing it, Sniper had his scope focused on the RED. His instincts were screaming at him to pull the trigger, but he let the blue dot of his pointer rest over the other man’s shoulder instead, watching him walk from one end of the battlements to the other.

The RED Sniper finished his coffee just as the starting bell rang. He glanced up, somehow catching the blue dot on his shoulder. Sniper saw him freeze and that would have been the moment when Sniper could have, should have pulled the trigger. If he had to explain himself to someone, it was like he owed the man. The RED hadn’t shot him before, so he was just returning the favor.

Still looking through the scope, he saw the RED Sniper slowly relax. The man looked straight at him, though the sensible part of Sniper’s mind said that the man couldn’t possibly see him clearly from that distance.

The RED Sniper was smiling though.

Sniper sat up, lowering his rifle. He knew the RED Sniper wouldn’t have been able to see him smirk in return. So, acting against all his professional standards, he waved.

And was troubled to find how happy he felt when his enemy waved right back.


It wasn’t called flirting when they were aiming their crosshairs at each other.

When the fighting lulled off during the middle of the day, Sniper would check the RED battlements with his scope, always stopping his blue pointer on the RED’s shoulder, maybe even wiggling it a little to grab the man’s attention. Red—he decided to name him—would always duck away, scowling at being seen. The same went for Sniper when Red caught him out in the open, whether it was just an arm or the top of his hat.

They would shoot at each other, of course. It kept up appearances, but the closest Sniper ever got to hitting him was when Red jerked the wrong way and the bullet nicked the collar of his vest. Sniper had immediately put down his rifle, heart beating way too wildly to enjoy the game anymore, but curiously got the better of him and when he looked through the scope, he saw that Red had removed his vest, giving a congratulatory salute with two fingers flicking off the temple.

Then Sniper started wondering if he could nick the shirt and trousers too.


It still wasn’t called flirting when BLU Sniper stood completely still, letting the red pointer run over his half-naked body from behind the broken window.

He kept an eye on his reflection in the dusty glass, watching the places the red dot would linger—his neck, his shoulders, stomach—and would suppress a shiver as it trailed downwards until the window would cut off at the waist. The danger of it was almost breathtaking; one slip of the finger, a pull of the trigger, and Sniper could be in a world of pain. No, this wasn’t flirting at all. Flirting was supposed to be playful and fun, and there was nothing playful about RED Sniper’s expression when Sniper looked through his scope.

Sitting on one of the crates, he waited for RED Sniper to put down his rifle, but the red dot was still visible on his face. He tried waving it off with a frown and finally ducked back down to retrieve his shirt on the floor. More silent cues and wavering pointer dots stopped him from putting it back on.

“Keep the shirt off, he says,” Sniper muttered, twisting the fabric through his fingers and wondering how long it was going to take before someone was going to come up and discover that he was—no, not flirting—undressing before the enemy.

Checking his reflection, he wasn’t surprised to find the red dot still there. He could have been imagining it, but there was a strange tingling on his right cheek, like he could feel where the RED was looking at him without the pointer.

“You could shoot me now and it’ll still be no better than a kiss,” Sniper smirked, though his voice was going to remain unheard by his counterpart. “How long are you going to stare at my face through the scope like that?”

The red dot still didn’t move, but Sniper knew he was watching.

He tilted his head so that the red circle of light touched the corner of his mouth, and licked his lips, tongue flicking beneath the glowing dot. From the reflection, the pointer wavered and disappeared. Sniper laughed, lifting his rifle and watching the RED’s face color brightly.

They were past flirting.

“Just tell me where you want to go, Red,” he murmured, following the trailing red dot across the battlefield. He kept his blue pointer close until a shot rang from the RED battlements and a puff of dust showed where the bullet hit. Sniper glanced up with his rifle pointing towards the neutral outpost, quite a ways from both bases.

The red dot flickered back to his shoulder, questioning.

Sniper smirked.

“Good choice.”


They had enough sense to wait until the cease fire hours, though it had been a near thing when the RED Spy had snuck up behind Sniper within the last hour. With his kukri still wet with the spy’s blood, Sniper headed towards the outpost which was nothing more than a shack topped with a tin roof. Sniper could only remember visiting the place once and had dismissed it when he found that the vantage point was terrible. He didn’t think that it would actually come in handy until now.

The RED Sniper was already inside, sitting on a pile of wooden broads with his rifle across his lap. They silently stared at each other in the dim evening light, absorbing the details that their scopes had no way of picking up.

“You think we’d be sick of looking at each other by now,” the RED eventually chuckled, his voice tinged with a drawling Adelaide accent in oppose to BLU Sniper’s softer, British twang.

“It’s a definite step up though,” he replied, crossing the length of the outpost in three quick strides.

He stood over the RED Sniper, charmed by the way the man glanced up at him, patient and waiting. Placing a hand on RED Sniper’s shoulder, he bent down and pressed their mouths firmly together. It didn’t take long for tongues to be involved, though BLU Sniper was unprepared for the way the RED’s teeth ran over his lower lip, going down to his jaw and tracing the pathway where his red pointer had constantly went over across the battlements.

RED Sniper stood up, rifle clattering to the ground, and gently pushed him back, but in no way gently gripping on to his shirt. He let out a low growl against BLU Sniper’s throat, tugging roughly on the fabric. BLU Sniper undid the buttons of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, and tossed it aside. The RED made a noise of approval and leaned forward to bite down hard at the base of his neck.

“You don’t know how much I wanted to do that,” he said over BLU Sniper’s hiss before returning to the spot and laving it wet with his tongue.

“I’ve got a pretty good guess,” Sniper muttered, reminded of the way the red dot would hover at his shoulders. His eyes drifted shut, allowing himself to feel and be felt for once, instead of having to gaze across the field or look through a scope. The RED Sniper’s hands were steady, just like he imagined they would be, warm and calloused against his waist.

“You waitin’ for something, Blue?” the RED asked, finally showing a sliver of impatience. His fingers toyed with the button and zipper of Sniper’s trousers. “I always thought you were the faster shot.”

It was a nice way of putting that he didn’t like to wait as much as a sniper should. Sniper grinned, “Just letting you have your way with me. For now.”

The other man laughed, withdrawing his hands to remove his own shirt and vest. For the first time, Sniper noticed a light, jagged scar slashed across his chest that had gone unnoticed through the view of the scope.

“Well, we can come up with a compromise, right?” Red said, baring his teeth, “You teach me a few things, and I’ll let you in on a few of my tricks.”

Sniper’s felt the hot rush of heat through his body and he needed no further hinting to push the other man down against the pile of wooden boards. The RED grunted, bringing his leg up to hook over Sniper’s and making him lean over him. Their kisses grew rough and needy, threaded with quiet moans and choked gasps for breath. Using his gloved hand to brace against the planks, Sniper pawed at the RED’s pants with the other, nails raking over his hip.

“Off, get off,” Red growled, holding tight to Sniper’s shoulder while his free hand groped at his own zipper. Sniper relented, dragging his counterpart to his feet. No sooner had Red tugged his pants to his knees, he shoved Sniper against the thin walls of the outpost.

He could feel cobwebs against his back, a light shower of dust, as Red shoved him again only using his hips this time around. Sniper’s pants had slipped down without his belt—when had that gotten undone?—and it didn’t take much effort on Red’s part to yank it further down, exposing his stiffening cock.

The RED murmured something that was lost when he pressed forward with jerky motions. Sniper moaned, the sticky heat of both their cocks rubbing over his stomach almost too much for him to handle. His knees buckled and he was forced to put all his weight on the wall to keep from sliding down. Bringing his hand to the back of Red’s head, he wrapped his arm around the other man’s waist, nails biting deep into his arse and leaving crescent-shaped imprints.

Red had propped his arm on the wall, face twisted in concentration as he took their dicks in one hand, rubbing the pre-cum over the harden flesh. Sniper let out a low keen, too slow, too slow.

“Do you have—?” he managed to rasp.

The RED didn’t answer, breath too shallow until he inhaled sharply, “No. Does—aah, does it matter?” A smirk, and RED squeezed him with the calculated pressure of making Sniper buck up without throwing both of them off.

“Your bloody hands are too steady,” he growled, shifting his hips, and brought a hand to his mouth to spit in it. “Let me.”

The RED seemed more than willing to let Sniper take over. He took off his hand, letting it rest on the wall. Sniper could hear it scrape against the wood as it curled up into a fist. Taking both of them into his grip, Sniper worked his hand up and down their shafts, pausing to adjust his grip and tease the pre-cum from the slit of Red’s cock while he writhed over him.

“Christ,” Red swore into his ear, nipping and panting hard. “Always wanted to see how your hands worked, darl. Could never see you properly—”

“I’ll teach you how I like to reload—”

“—while you wanked off,” the RED Sniper finished, shutting him up with a bruising kiss, full of teeth and edgy growls. “Not what I meant, but thanks.”

“Not what I meant either,” Sniper smirked, tweaking his fingers, waiting for Red to gasp and moan before dropping his hand away and simply rolling his hips forward. He brought his leg around the other man’s knees, keeping him in place while they grinded and jerked and shuddered.

And it was the RED Sniper who froze first, a faint whimper escaping from him and his fingers digging into Sniper’s scalp when he came, shots of cum leaving a warm mess over his stomach. Sniper felt his release soon after, rolling his head back and sinking down to the ground with the RED on top of him.

Still dazed, he was barely able to register the significance of RED bending over to press a kiss against the corner of his mouth, cheek, and then the very dead-fucking-dead center of his forehead.

“I’m a dead man.”

“So am I, darlin’, so am I.”

>> No. 8148

HNNNNGH. Oh lawd. This was fantastic! MOAR FROM YOU PLEASE.
>> No. 8149
Sniper x Sniper action is one of the BEST kinds of action. The ending to both parts had me slapping my knee goin' "WOO!".
>> No. 8150
I LOVE THIS STORY AND I LOVE YOU. It's playful and fun and manages to stay true to their characters. I also like how you gave the reader an opportunity to distinguish between them. Awesome wooork ~
>> No. 8151
There are TEARS OF JOY streaming down my face!
>> No. 8152


that was beautiful.i absolutely loved the teasing with the crosshairs.

>> No. 8153
What a lovely thing to read before I go to bed C:
Tantarded...please, for the love of God, write more with these two. YOU MUST!!!
>> No. 8155

That was ADORABLE. <3
>> No. 8156
Tantarded... I love you. So much.
>> No. 8158
Augh, I absolutely love this! The teasing-with-crosshairs bit was seriously inspired and ridiculously hot.
>> No. 8164
This was immensely hot.
Moar with these two? Maybe? Pretty please with a Sniper on top?
>> No. 8174
Oh man I come back to the chan and find this? CHRISTMAS HAS COME EARLY. So wickedly hot, and yet incredibly well-written. I love you long time, Tan.
>> No. 8175
Oh man, oh man. Thanks guys!
>>8153 + >>8164
Okay. Since you asked and I'm on some kind of writing-high, sequel to Crosshairs.

Prompt: >>7938
> we need some actual 'Saxton Hale turns out to secretly be really, really masculinely gay' fics. w/ Sniper of course. Oh hell, what about rival RED/BLU Snipers vying for Mr. Hale's affections? Then somehow it just turns into a giant threesome.

Here. We. Go.

1. The second worst thing that ever came between them was a bow.

“Four seconds,” BLU Sniper said, looking up from his watch, “Ain’t bad, but if I can reload in three seconds, so can you.”

RED Sniper tried his best not to stare sullenly out the window where he had been taking pot shots at a faraway cactus in the desert. Jesus, the plant wasn’t even a moving target, but he had been fumbling with the bullet, flipping it in the air like how BLU Sniper taught him and slamming it into the chamber, and yet he was still a second too slow.

“I can’t imagine what BLU would do to you if they found out that you were teaching me how to shoot them faster,” he laughed, lowering his rifle.

Maybe his jaw had been a little too tight when he grinned, but the BLU seemed to sense his frustration and offered an encouraging smile.

“It makes up for that kukri trick you showed me,” he said, walking over to nuzzle Red’s neck and bite on his ear lobe.

Red winced, not because to the bite, but of the grueling memory of having to teach that certain kukri trick, and nearly having his left foot taken off by Blu Sniper’s wild flailing. “Er—yeah.”

“I’m practicing!”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

The BLU gave him a playful shove against the outpost where they had taken the liberty of removing its overall uselessness and turning it into a hideout of sorts. It was a whole lot cleaner than before, but neither of them had taken the time to sweep the dirt from the walls. Red pulled away with an impressive layer of dust on the sleeve of his shirt, but not before BLU Sniper pressed against him, trying to take the rifle away with a mischievous grin.

“Get away, you,” the RED said, hugging his rifle close, “I want to get this reloading bit down.”

BLU Sniper folded his arms across his chest, looking very petulant for a man his age, “What’s the hurry?”

“Well,” Red began, “HQ decided fork over a new weapon for me. Decided that I want to improve my reload time with the rifle before I get it.”

Blue fell silent for a moment. “This new toy of yours wouldn’t happen to be called the Huntsman, would it?” he asked, frowning.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, piss,” BLU Sniper said, “That’s what HQ’s sending me too.”

“Not seeing the problem, darl,” RED Sniper replied, even though he knew his counterpart had a tendency to make everything into a competition between them. While he like how the rivalry kept his performance top-notch, he really hated the smug attitude the BLU took whenever they competed with bets or taunts.

It also meant no sex until Red allowed himself to lose, which happened often enough to where he had to fuck the living shit out of BLU Sniper to make up for his bruised pride. Though the other man didn’t seem to mind at all—but that wasn’t the point. BLU Sniper just took himself too seriously at times.

“There isn’t a problem,” Blue muttered.



Red count to three in his head.

“Well—I guess I’ll be heading back now. My Huntsman was ordered a week ago, so it might be here,” BLU Sniper said, right on cue.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you know that they’ll end up arriving at the same time.”

“But mine’s coming with a Saxton Hale poster.”

Red nearly dropped his rifle. If there was anything they had more in common besides their jobs, weapons, and skill, it was their admiration for Mann Co’s CEO. They had even admitted, rather shyly at first, that the admiration might even be a little more than that. But, privately, RED Sniper had thought that he was the bigger fan. BLU Sniper might be getting a poster, but Red already had three in his room back at base, plus an action figure.

Nevertheless, he had shouted, “What?!”

And BLU Sniper was wearing that annoying little smirk of his. “Full body, a hundred by a hundred and thirty centimeters of Saxton Hale. Y’heard right, mate.”

Okay, so even if RED Sniper’s posters weren’t as big as that, there was no need to be jealous— except that BLU Sniper was practically dancing smug circles around him.

“Aw. Lookin’ a little green there, Red.”

“Get. Out.”

BLU Sniper leered, “Tell you what. First person to pin five guys with the Huntsman gets the poster.”

Red glared at him through his aviators before the BLU left.

“You’re on.”


It had taken a while to adjust to their new weapons. Hitting the targets was generally easy, but getting them to pin to the wall was difficult. RED Sniper found the Huntsman to be incredibly unwieldy, hard to control, and the lack of his usual scope made it hard to shoot across the battlements. He hated it, but he wasn’t going to let BLU Sniper win, not this time.

The score was three-to-three when he noticed that BLU Sniper was miserably shooting his arrows towards the outpost. They hadn’t seen each other face to face in two weeks and RED Sniper was starting to miss his counterpart as well, albeit very grudgingly.

He arrived at the outpost later that evening, stopping dead at the sight of a hundred by one hundred and thirty centimeters of Saxton Hale tacked to the wall, full body and shirtless.

BLU Sniper was sitting beneath it, looking hopeful.

“The Huntsman is a piece of piss. Truce?”

RED Sniper stared at the poster, finding it glorious in every single way, and smiled.

2. And that had been the worst thing that ever came between them—the poster of Saxton Hale.

Red was damn good at sucking cock, and liked even better when it was BLU Sniper’s. He loved how the man would stand as still as possible, gripping the back of RED Sniper’s head and shoulder like it was the only thing keeping him from falling over.

“Oh god,” he moaned, “you bloody fuck—“

And nothing could compare to the noises BLU Sniper made either; dirty talk, desperate growls, and stifled whimpers. RED Sniper hummed appreciatively, running his tongue around the head and tasting the bitterly faint pre-cum from the slit.

“—oh, fuck fuck fuck! Oh, Christ, keep going—”

Absolutely musical. RED Sniper worked his jaw, edging closer without gagging and grateful in more ways than one that the BLU had been trained to stay still for hours at a time.

“Ooh, god, Saxton—“

RED Sniper choked.

“… Oh. Piss. Hey, I didn’t mean—FUCKING HELL, don’t fucking bite me!”

RED Sniper stood up, spitting on the dirt floor. He had half a mind to grab his kukri and see where that took him, but the BLU looked humiliated enough to give him second-hand embarrassment.

“You got ten seconds to explain yourself,” Red said, low and dangerous.

BLU Sniper put up his hands helplessly. “It was the poster!”

RED Sniper picked up his knife and the other man hastily pulled up his pants.

“I mean, it’s just there on the wall! And I guess I must’ve glanced up or something, I don’t know! It just slipped and—” he pause and finished in a tiny voice, “—could you really blame me? It’s Saxton Hale.”

RED Sniper didn’t know what made him angrier; the whole situation, or that he even stopped to consider that, yeah, it was Saxton Hale, and maybe it wasn’t so bad being compared to that legendary man, even if it was just the poster version of him. Red raised his kukri, pointing it at his nervous counterpart.

“Drop your trousers and bend over, and I might just forgive you.”

“Against the wall or floor?”

“Whichever hurts more, darl.”

“Floor it is then.”


The floor had been a bad idea.

RED Sniper was fucking deep into the BLU, ignoring the whimpers below him. He bit into his shoulder with angry and quick thrusts while BLU Sniper keened and spat out curses. Growling, Red removed his teeth and pushed against his back with one hand, keeping the BLU on his hands and knees.

It was going good. BLU Sniper seemed to have learned his lesson a long time ago and it wasn’t long before he was uttering a familiar cry, curling his hand into the dirt floor. RED Sniper moaned, lifting his head to try and catch a glimpse of the man’s expression and, from the corner of his eye, Saxton was staring at him.

So maybe the BLU had a point. The poster was pretty damn big, hard to miss and all that, with Saxton Hale’s perfect teeth and shining abs and muscled body. Bloody fuck, the man was gorgeous.

“Ngh—oh, god, Mister Hale,” he hissed before he could stop himself, “Saxton, Saxton—” and forgot for a moment who he had his cock buried into.

“…You little shit,” BLU Sniper snarled, crawling out from underneath him when it was all over. “I only said it once on accident, and then you go and chant his name like a bloody mantra!”

RED Sniper felt the heat rush to his face. He tried to think of an explanation, but he was never good at that sort of thing after an orgasm.

“Well, now you know how it feels like, mate.”

If RED Sniper had acted angry before, Blue looked downright murderous. He rose to his feet, ignoring the dust on his hands, stomach and knees, and got dressed. Without saying another word, he left the outpost.

And Red got the feeling that there wasn’t going to be anymore teasing crosshairs anymore.


Oh, god. I’m sorry for spamming the thread with disjointed fic, but the last part will come later. :C
>> No. 8176
Oh shitballs. I meant this to be for >>8003 not >>7938 Sorry!
>> No. 8178
>> No. 8179

Because I would just DIE from joy.
>> No. 8183
Ohhhh, tantarted is awesome and should feel awesome for hawt sniper on sniper action!
>> No. 8191

you are amaaazinnnng
>> No. 8193

You have made my morning so very special and wonderful. Thankyouthankyouthankyou!


And I am adoring this so hard, it hurts.

>plus an action figure

AND NOW YOU MADE ME WANT THIS. Dear Valve, we desperately need some real TF2 collectible figures. Saxton Hale could be like a super special mystery figure. Collect them all.
>> No. 8196
This is beautuiful, Tantarded!

But then where would our pictures of them put into sex positions go? /fanart/?
>> No. 8207
I so want a Saxton Hale action figure, with 25 cool sounds and real chest hair D:
>> No. 8211
I love this and I love you.
>> No. 8217
Oh god, these stories are making my day so much. So ridiculously hot (and I love how childish they are over the Saxton poster <3)
>> No. 8303
Demo/Scout, paying for sex.

Canonically, Demoman is ultrarich with his $5million income from his three jobs; Scout comes from a big family in a bad area. Put the two together, and the only natural outcome is money for sex.
>> No. 8304
Oh lordy I do believe I have the vapors.

Tantarted, I love you and your snipers. Also, I giggled over the Saxton Hale part quite a bit.
>> No. 8306

>> No. 8308
Bonus for Scout being all WTF IS THIS SHIT and weighing up his dignity against his...I dunno, cripple brother getting a wheelchair or some other sort of angsty shit. Delicious self-loathing and inner-conflict, I must have it.
>> No. 8309
YESYESYESYESYESYES. Demoman should probably be like half-drunk and gruff. Scout should have a hard time understanding his angry, scottish sluring. And they should have extremely sloppy sex. Yes.
>> No. 8311

I endorse this.
>> No. 8340
Okay so Sniper's supposed to be really manry & everything, but what if tucked away hidden at the bottom of his skin mags box is something like a phallus. idk.. and let's say he locks himself in his nest and uses it, but then there's a voyeur cloaked in the room watching.
Kinda obvious the cloaked person is spy... bonus if cloaked spy participates.
>> No. 8349
I'd like to request something with CVs new Red Medic. He looks kinda shy and nervous, maybe a little unwilling at first...

I can't decide with who though.
The new Sniper seems protective of him. Maybe the new Spy's not so bad. Just how much does Scout like Medic? Time paradox with the old Red Spy? Can't quite think of a scenario with Bleu, but maybe Blu Medic...?

Whichever writer!anon picks, this anon will be grateful.
>> No. 8352
oh tantarted, ilu so very much
i love the last line of part 1 and part2 was wonderful
oh man, why didn't i see this before! i can not wait to see the next bit <3
and >Red already had three in his room back at base, plus an action figure.
that made me laugh so hard :D
>> No. 8355
oh god i LOVE this thread, so much sniper on sniper action hnnggggg, its my otp <3

brb changing panties
>> No. 8374
Well, I've had this one idea that I'm not quite sure how to approach in writing.

I'm looking for some solo Pyro based on the idea that the Pyro is simply a living, genderless Pyro suit. I'm curious as to how such a thing would masturbate, assuming it has a sexual drive. In so far, I could see it using the Flamethrower as sort of a makeshift, temporary penis alone in some deserted, bleached gas station in Death Valley.
>> No. 8380
Spy and Scout and Avenue Q, oh my!

Or, rather, if Scout were gay, it'd be okay. And then it turns into a giant smex fest.

>> No. 8381

Writing it as we speak, haha. Should be finished quite soon.
>> No. 8384
I love you, and if this is good I'm going to goodtouch you through the magic of the internet.
>> No. 8390
>> No. 8403

I love you. You have no idea how many of my kinks that prompt tickled. Oh man.
>> No. 8409
bro cancel i have come through for you on /fic/.
>> No. 8413
Oh, you know what I want to see? Demoman/Demoman. I've never seen that attempted before. I might try it, but in case anyone else wants to, I leave it for all of you to attempt.
>> No. 8422
uuh any Demo/Engie?

I don't recall anything with this pairing... mh...
>> No. 8423
Not sure if this counts, but maybe a repost of that het!Spy and You story?
>> No. 8424
Or hell, even an original one would be great and wonderful as well.
>> No. 8426

Spy goes into Engie's workshop hoping to tease him, but instead gets dragged into rough, hot sex among all the mechanical bits. Lots of snark is appreciated.
>> No. 8430
Seconded. There's a Soldier/You, a Scout/You, a Medic/You, and even a Sniper/You in the last few pages; Class/You requires more Spy.

...or Engie. Engie/You would be cute.
>> No. 8431
There IS an Engie/You fic: http://www.tf2chan.net/afanfic/res/261.html

Yes, it is very cute. Although, I would third a Spy/You fic
>> No. 8435
Fourthing a Spy/You fic!
>> No. 8438

Yes! This makes me want badly. Oh and because I'm slow and have short term memory, was somebody going to try and do a Sniper rape van mishap fic somewhere? I cannot remember where it was mentioned now but I could have sworn somebody said they wanted to do it but dunno who it was now.
>> No. 8441
I request a Soldier/Shovel/Equalizer love triangle!
>> No. 8442

This! This!
>> No. 8445
Red Spy/Blu Scout. Daddy kink.
>> No. 8446
I'll do it c: Might take a bit though. Y'know Christmas and New Years and all that...
>> No. 8448
Oh God that's so wrong and hot all at the same time.
>> No. 8449
YES please

>> No. 8450
Yes. Yes. Yes. PLEASE.
>> No. 8452

“So.” Just as Soldier was trudging back into his room, Equalizer in hand, he noticed Shovel propped up at the foot of his bed, giving him the most contemptuous look a inanimate object lacking a face could. "I see your /friend/ is with you." Shovel’s usually impassive voice was colored by a strong strain of disdain.

“Friend? What do you-” Soldier than remember what he was holding in his hand and looked down at it. “Oh, the Equalizer? No, I’m just using her to smash that no good cross-dressing Scot’s head in.”

“I can smash the Demoman’s head in too,” Shovel replied in a wavering voice. “I can do anything that pickax can do. You know that, Soldier.”

“But /I/ can do it better,” the Equalizer replied. Much unlike the ambiguous, neutral tones of the shovel, the Equalizer spoke in a high, almost grating voice, sounding rather like a sneering schoolgirl.

“Now now, Equalizer, let’s not be rude-” Soldier started before being cut off.

“/You/?” Shovel interrupted. “/You/ think you’re better than /me/?”

“I /know/ I’m better than you,” the Equalizer replied jarringly. “I’m the improved version of you, sent by Mann Co. to kill that drunken Cyclops. You’re just jealous.”

“Now now, girls…er…guys…er, the both of you, let’s not fight-” Soldier’s attempts at instilling peace were futile, however, as the fight between the two objects intensified.

“Jealous of /you/?!” Soldier repeated, its voice rising an octave. “Why should I be jealous of you?! At least I don’t depend on Soldier’s suffering to work, you novelty!”

“How dare you!” the Equalizer snarled back. “At least I was built to impale things! You’re just a gardening tool!”

“At least I’m consistent!” Shovel yelled back. “Soldier can always depend on /me/!”

“Soldier likes me better than you, you cheap piece of /plastic/!” Equalizer shrieked. Soldier couldn’t help but cringe. No one dared called Shovel /that/.

“Oh, it’s on now, bitch,” Shovel seethed, and with a roar, it flung itself at Equalizer, batting the pickax in with its spade. Equalizer shrieked as it fell out of Soldier’s hand and to the ground, and screamed with raw, atavistic fury as it hit Shovel back, tossing the gardening off it with a clang of metal. The two objects got up threw themselves at each other, clanging and scraping against one another in a rapid, visceral fight to the death.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” Soldier cried helplessly as his two beloved melee weapons tore each other apart. He loved them both so much, and it pained him ever so much to see them fight like this. Unable to bear it, he threw himself between them, sobbing and stopping the fight suddenly.

“Soldier?” Shovel asked, its voice curious and concerned.

“Are you alright?” Equalizer inquired. Instantly, the antipathy between it and Shovel was forgotten, replaced with concerned for their beloved Soldier.

“I…don’t want you to fight…” Soldier sniffled, a globule of snot dribbling from his nose. “I love you both so much…don’t make me choose between you…”

“Oh, Soldier,” Shovel crooned, gently stroking the American’s face with its spade. “I’m sorry…I just got caught in the moment…oh, please forgive me…”

“And I as well,” Equalizer said, snuggling against Soldier’s side. “I don’t want to fight if it hurts you. I couldn’t bear to hurt you.” Soldier’s sniffles soon subsided, and he held both his beloved objects close to him, so tightly that their handles strained under the weight.

“Oh shovel, equalizer,” the American said softly, standing up again, “Let’s never fight again…”
>> No. 8456
Hmm...I AM already working on something like this but I take forever to finish things...
>> No. 8457
i lost it at the cat-fight...err, item fight
>> No. 8458
Oh. Lord. You are wonderful, Sonne. I would demand a hot threesome follow-up, but then again I also want to preserve my sanity.
>> No. 8468
Just finished something for this. Will post after it's looked over by mah beta.
>> No. 8470
Looking forward to it.
>> No. 8471
As promised...

Kinda shorter than usual, but meh.


"So, /petit/... I am forgiven for my past... /transgressions/ wiz your mozer?" RED Spy asked softly, looking down at the naked young man resting on his chest.

"Not really... I mean..." BLU Scout sighed harshly and moved to sit up, crossing his legs and looking down at the man he had just been allowed to fuck. It had been the other way around at first, but he convinced the fag to let him do it instead of being done.

"I guess I'm cool with it now." He admitted after a bit, letting his hand trail across the man's scant chest hair and around the bullet and knife scars that he had. No wonder his mom had been seduced by this man, he had bad-ass written all over him. "I mean...!" he continued when the Spy looked like he was about to say something more intelligent than what Scout was saying. "I mean that I'd be okay with it... if you were my dad." He clarified before realizing he didn't need to be sitting up and slipped back into the other man's arms. "Because I figure a pop'd be there for ya 'n' everything..." he was referring to the reason they had ended up there, naked and on the boy's bed. Scout had been slightly confused with his sexuality earlier that day. It was all Pyro's damned fault, too.

"Ah..." Spy nodded in understanding. He had found the Scout curled up in a corner trying to sort out the reasons that he wasn't gay and the reasons he might be. He'd been scared shitless; almost out of his mind with the fear of the team finding out. "Your fazer was not?"

"Neh... he skipped out before I was born." Scout admitted sheepishly, letting his eyes close as the feeling of being safe began to settle through him. "I always used to dream about what he'd be like... what life'd be if he stayed." Scout pressed closer to RED Spy and felt the man's arm tighten around him. "I coulda had these kinda moments after havin' a nightmare... well, not /these/," he gestured to the Spy's bare lower half before resting that hand on the arm around his waist. "Or someone other'n my older brothers to ask when I'm confused about... stuff..." he trailed off, peeking up at the older man's relaxed and thoughtful face. His eyes were closed and Scout thought he was asleep for a few seconds before the Frenchman turned onto his side and pulled the boy closer to his chest in the same manner a parent might hold a child.

"Would you like me to be your 'daddy'?" The smirk in his voice was tangible and Scout felt himself blush furiously before slipping his hand down to cup the man.

"You gonna teach me how to be a man?" He countered, withdrawing his hand and getting a soft noise from the Spy's throat at the loss of contact.

"I will teach you zings you never zought were possible." The Spy smirked before slidding down the young man's body, ready to teach him some proper fag-manners.
>> No. 8475
Thank you! This is great; subtle and beautiful.
BTW, I saw this earlier, but I totally waited until after midnight so I could read this as a birthday present!
>> No. 8476
Glad you liked it and Happy Birthday! = )
>> No. 8506
Ahh, I’m sorry this took so long--my computer crashed Christmas morning, so I had to figure out what was wrong / backup all my data / locate and purchase new computer in time to take advantage of Boxing Day sales.

...I hope it was worth the wait? pffffff


If you told Scout he’d one day agree to prostitute himself because everyone had their price, your reply would come in the form of a prompt beating with the nearest blunt object until you were forced to respawn.

Yet, in spite of such self-important notions as pride, honor, and dignity, Scout couldn’t deny that ‘choice’ was a privilege he was stripped of the moment the offer was made.

As independent as he made himself out to be, Scout came from a rather large family he’d taken it upon himself to help support; see, one of his older brothers had gotten sick--real sick--and the hospital bills were getting too much for ma to handle on her own. Seeing as a few of his brothers had families of their own to worry about, Scout sent back as much as his salary would allow, but as he was reminded by the letters from home, rent ain’t cheap and food ain’t free. He wasn’t sure how long his mom would last like this, and the fact he couldn’t do anything about it damn near killed him.

Demoman knew all about it, too, the nosy fuck.

And Scout vows, promises, assures himself it’s the only reason he’s standing in front of the Scotsman now, feeling all awkward and sweaty and swearing to god the guy could see through his clothes or something because that look of his was getting funny in the worst way possible.

Demoman, on the other hand, didn’t mean to traverse the brink of perversion, even if he understood he’d crossed that Rubicon the minute his signature graced the check. Him and his team had been cramped up under dismal living conditions for several months and, quite frankly, the desire for human contact had gotten overwhelming, driving him to the point of...well, this. It wasn’t his proudest moment--what would his parents think of him now?--but he reckoned he could make it more of a trade than a purchase by helping someone else with their problems in the process. He needed sex, the kid needed money. Simple as that.

Even though he didn’t think anything less of Scout for accepting, it never ceased to amaze the former what a few extra zeros could do to a person.

Wobbling slightly as he rose to his feet, Demoman moved from his armchair, staring in a mixture of amusement and guilt as Scout tensed up with every step he approached. Demoman wasn’t sure whether his own expression was heavy with the lingering shame he felt about all this, but hell if he wasn’t going to at least try to enjoy it. He even deluded himself into thinking he could drink enough to make the kid resemble a woman; instead, it made his vision half-lidded and blurry, which was almost just as effective.

“C’mere, lad.”

Scout picked up on the graciousness lacing other man’s voice and his expression turned sharp, not much unlike a cornered animal prepared to strike. Shuffling forward with the utmost cautiousness, Scout noticed Demoman reach the bottom of his bottle and pretty much figured there was no way in hell he was doing this sober.

“Let’s just fuckin’ get this over with, man.”

Without another word, Demoman took Scout by the arms and craned forward to rest his forehead within the crook of Scout’s neck, taking in the boy’s scent as Scout exhaled in turn. Demoman’s breath is thick with the scent of sleeplessness and alcohol; his accent blankets the drunken slurs and explicatives spilling from his mouth, and by the time his hands slide under Scout’s shirt with the very impassioned possessiveness once absent from his tone, the only thing the youth can make out is that he’s angry.

Scout wonders why they’ve taken to the floor, but realized the crazy bastard was probably too smashed out of his mind to process what ‘uncomfortable’ felt like.

Demoman managed to turn Scout around until they were facing the same direction, although it made the task of undoing buckles more complicated than necessary. Scout buried his anxiousness beneath a scoff and a casual roll of his eyes, slipping his hands beneath larger, clumsier fingers and unbuckling his belt himself.

He was rewarded by being shoved down on all fours.

Ignoring the resulting objection, Demoman pushed his fingers beneath Scout’s waistband and swiftly yanked his pants down around his ankles in a single motion, revealing pale, smooth skin under the yellow-tinted dimness of the overhead lighting. Scout’s body was leaner than Demoman expected, his lithe form taut and well-defined from all those years of running. It makes Demoman question whether or not the whole ‘pretending Scout was a woman’ thing would be that hard after all.

Demoman took a small bottle from his pocket; impressed with himself for remembering, he squirted some of the contents into his hand, slathering a couple of his digits with it. He slid his hand down Scout’s backside until he found the right point, and edged a hasty finger into the tender ring of muscle.

Scout lets a sharp stutter loose, a sound which evolves into a series of broken groans as the digit moves around, rubbing and stretching and twisting inside of him.

“Christ...” he muttered into his forearm, brows knitting together. “Take it easy, why don’tcha?”

Demoman used his free hand to push down on Scout’s lower back, moving to insert a second adjacent finger. “Ye got to relax, laddie...’s just gonna hurt more if ye don’.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, Cyclops, you ain’t the one who’s gonna have a dick up your ass in about five--aah, shit...”

Scout pressed his forehead to the ground. His soft shift in pitch, along with his growing arousal, made it regrettably obvious that Demoman had reached a spot that made this all half-bearable.

Satisfied, Demoman took his hand off Scout’s back and used it to undo his own pants. Scout twitched as Demoman’s goatee suddenly prickled against the skin of his shoulder, the larger man’s mouthing wet and messy with the crude malformation of what was probably some kind of kiss.

Withdrawing his hand from inside the youth, Demoman used it to put the rest of the bottle’s contents to good use; before Scout had time to tense in uneasiness, Demoman had already pushed into him.

Scout sucked an inhale through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ hell...”

The hand tight upon his hip, still sticky from lube, didn’t seem to let up as Demoman withdrew himself and continued dragging with sporadic movements, in and out, drawing forth indescribable feelings of ache and fullness: prolonged senses of pain tapered off by sharp stings of pleasure.

Scout fought back the urge to break down altogether. Fuck it all if he was going to take this like someone as weak as he tried convincing himself he wasn’t.

Made vaguely aware of his suffering, Demoman takes Scout’s neglected, half-hardened member into his hold, motioning until Scout’s suppressed moans turned less painful. His other hand maintaining a slippery grasp against Scout’s side, Demoman continued stroking the youth in time with his thrusts--faster, harder, tighter--his thumb dipping into a bead of precum and swirling around the head, the combination of sheer indulgence making Scout whine in a way he’d deny to the grave. Enjoying the attention way more than he wanted to admit, he arched slightly to allow for a more enthusiastic shifting of his own hips, and, defeated, called Demoman a string of names that would have earned him a slap across the mouth in any other case.

Demoman’s mind was getting fuzzier by the second. This experience--the things Scout was saying, the way his slim, smooth body writhed beneath his grasp, the sheer tightness of him enveloping his length--was all quickly becoming far too much to bear.

Scout bit against the inside of his lip and dug his palms into the carpet, hoping the whimper he let slip went unnoticed. He pushes himself backwards and grinds against the man in a near-flawless rhythm, clearing the shame from his mind with every wash of pleasure, with every shove against that spot deep inside of him, with every brush of friction against his own longing, until the result of his desperation ends up a stifled curse and a white splatter across the ground.

A final push in to the hilt tears a growl from Demoman’s throat, his single-handed grasp on Scout’s waist now tight enough to bruise. Scout felt himself filling with the other man’s seed, warm and fluid, and the sensation turns his stomach to the brink of wanting to vomit. After what seemed like an eternity, Demoman pulled out and collapsed on top of the boy, knocking the air from his lungs while panting at much a brisker pace.

When Demoman neither moves nor speaks for a few moments, Scout prompts him with a small ‘hey’.

Demoman responded with a light snore.

“Fuckin’ fag,” Scout scowled, incredulous as he channeled his efforts into shoving the sleeping man off of him. Once that was over with, he stood up and tugged his trousers back around himself, yanking his shirt up from the ground before heading out to the showers. The pain in his ass was starting to set in and he knew he wouldn’t be running too well the following afternoon.

Rubbing the carpet burns from his hands, Scout turned to examine the mess one more time, giving a quiet snort imagining Demoman’s reaction to waking up on his floor half-naked and covered in spunk. Drunken bastard would probably think it was a wet dream until he checked his bank account.

Scout shuts the door behind him and tries his hardest to pretend he’ll forget just as easily.
>> No. 8511
>> No. 8513

>> No. 8514
Aw.... poor Scoot. The only thing I didn't like was that it kept switching tenses. Otherwise this was awesome.
>> No. 8516

Damn it, I knew something was off about this piece. Thanks a ton for pointing that out--I'll be sure to be more careful next time around.
>> No. 8519
Requester here: EEEENNNF. Thank you. That is all.
>> No. 8522
This made me fap like a 11-year-old boy who's just found out the other function of his dick.


Both of you deserve a medal.
>> No. 8528
I'd like to request two cloaked Spies bang a Sniper. Sniper loves every minute of it.
>> No. 8530
dear god...i never knew i'd want this
someone please make it happen
>> No. 8531
Yes this is late and yes I've said it before but I friggin' ADORE your characterizations. I'm looking forward to the next installment!

I'm really happy you liked it, haha!

...this is hands down the greatest complement ever in the history of ever

>> No. 8534
>>8528 I'll do it.
Then I'll finally finish >>7926 's 'Sniper Van Mishap', if I do at all.
IT'S NOT GOING WELL. X_X I hit a wall with it.
>> No. 8539
I actually blushed.
Thank god, yes please.
>> No. 8540
I am grinning so hard right now, you have no idea
>> No. 8550
The pictures in the comic of RED Demoman and BLU Soldier being friends was just too damn cute, so I want them to make up. To show his good faith, Demoman lets Soldier touch his sword.

Take that as you will.
>> No. 8555
working on it
>> No. 8556


It had come down the final battle, as it were. The meeting of the two men upon the muddy battlefield as the rain coursed down in sheets upon the two struggling friends-turned-foe.

Soldier was covered from head to foot in mud and the only thing keeping him from shivering was that he had to constantly avoid the Demoman's Eyelander while placing well aimed rockets with his Direct Hit towards the man's legs. He wanted to wound him and taunt the little bastard to hell and back before finishing him off! /He had called him a civilian./

Demoman felt his feet keep slipping, and so his swings with the Eyelander were not quite as quick as he or the sword would like as he tried to keep his balance on the slick terrain. The betrayal he felt was too much. That Soldier had said yes before him was just... /he had said no at first, dammit! he had thought that they were the best of mates!/

"I thought we was best mates, y'li'l... civie!" The man cried, swinging his sword with all the more force behind it.

Soldier barely got around it and tossed his fist into the other man's gut with a hoarse laugh. "We were! Until you went flapping your lips to the word, saying that I was a civilian!" Soldier shouted back as he slipped and slid back from the enraged Scot. That jab had hurt!

"I ain't told a soul!" He yelled as he gasped for breath, trying to get his diaphragm over the trauma it had just received while swinging the Eyelander at the same time. There wasn't much force behind it, but it still cut into the flesh of Soldier's shoulder as it was swung round at the man. "Besides!" Demo pushed the sword tighter into the cut. "Ye're a feckin' /traitor/, tae boot!" He informed Soldier, baring his teeth in an angry grin. "Ye said ye'd kill me 'fore I even /thought/ aboot accepting this load-of-sheet quest!" Demo growled, feeling the sword hit bone. Soldier looked like he was in pain, but his eyes narrowed into a glare as he leaned closer to his former friend.

"I... how can I believe you?" Soldier growled, shoving his Direct Hit against the man's stomach and fingering the trigger. In such close quarters, they could easily finish each other off; possibly at the same time.

"It doon't matter, ye accepted the job, didn't ye?" Demo said as he got ready to press his sword all that much further into Soldier, taking off his arm and cutting into a lung and a half before the other man could pull the trigger on his rocket launcher.

"After I found out you blabbed to the /whole g'damn division/ that I'm a g'damn civilian!" Soldier countered with an ironic laugh.

"/I never told anyone that/!" Demo raged, shoving Soldier away and wrenching his sword from the other man's wound. He watched as Soldier glared and spit to the side before leaning down and grabbing a fistful of the churned up mud and slathering it over the cut.

"Promise?" He asked in a normal tone that Demo couldn't hear. The black man put his hand to his ear to illustrate that fact. "I SAID, DO YOU FUCKING PROMISE?!" Soldier screamed over the rain, settling into a huffing fit once he was done. Demoman was staring at him oddly before he nodded a bit and stepped forward half the distance between them, offering his fist, but Soldier took two brisk steps forward and punched his cheek before hugging him in a very manly fashion.

"You bastard! You /know/ that I would never agree to something like that!" He raged, pulling back and poking the Scot's forehead with each of his next words, "you. Are. An. Idiot." He informed the man before Demo smiled despite the pain in his jaw and wrapped a companionable arm around his friend.
"Aye... that don't mean we can't be friends ag'in, though, does it?" He asked as he directed Soldier back toward the RED base.

"... I /guess/... as long as you make me some of that pansy tea crap." Soldier huffed, wincing away from the Scot's hand when it touched his mud staunched wound.

Demo chuckled before nodding. "Alright." He smirked as he directed Soldier to the infirmary. The mud he was covered with hid Soldier's color, so Medic wouldn't mind him being in there for a few seconds while Demo cleaned his shoulder wound.

Once that was done via a helpful (yet suspicious) Medic and his medigun, Demo lead Soldier towards the showers so that they could get cleaned up before talking this little dispute over like proper friends. He found a pair of red sweats for Soldier and, though the man objected profusely at their color, Demo convinced him to wear them for simplicity's sake. Their own Soldier rarely came out of his room, so they wouldn't meet each other any time soon.

The men were soon settled on Demoman's bed with a cup of tea each and a bone to pick.

"So..." Soldier took a sip of his tea before adding a shot of scrumpy to it, "you never said I was a civilian."

"That's right." Demo nodded, Eyelander was resting across his knees as he sat Indian style across from the other man with his back resting against his headboard and one hand holding his tea while the other stroked the large sword soothingly. "So... you accepted on a lie." He took a sip of tea, already the perfect blend of tea, sugar and alcohol that he liked.

"Yeeeeep..." Soldier mirrored his slow nod and eyed the man's hand stroking his sword. "Can I... uh..." he bit his lip, unsure how to ask. "Can I touch your sword?" He finally asked in answer to Demo's questioning gaze.

"Ah... s'long as ye don' aim that Direct Hit at me 'gain." The Scot smiled as he scooted closer to Soldier, unwilling to let the sword move from his lap.

"Hm... I'll think about it- I'm joking, geez!" Soldier quickly amended when Demoman's hand moved to block his own. He chuckled when the Scot's hand withdrew and his hand tentatively touched the cross guard before traveling up the hilt slowly and rubbing the pommel with a gentle touch. He soon moved to his knees and sat back on his heels, allowing his hand to travel up and down the worn leather of the large sword's handle. He squeezed the grip and a ghostly sigh seemed to come from the inanimate object. He grinned and was about to do it again when he noticed the tent in Demo's sweats and that the Scot's eye was riveted on Soldier's hand traversing the handle of his beloved weapon. "Are you getting off on me touching your sword?" Soldier asked with a smirk.

"No..." Demo shook his head, though Soldier was unconvinced at the lie as his hand squeezed the hilt again and started moving up and down it slowly. The tendons in the back of his hand stood out with the grip and he could see Demo's tent rising as the man glared at him. That ghostly sigh had turned into a keening moan before Demoman knocked Soldier's hand away and calmly moved to place Eyelander leaning against his bedside table.

"So... can I... uh..." this time Soldier was faking awkwardness with a grin, "can I touch your sword?" He smirked, scooting closer in anticipation. They had experimented a bit before their epic battle of honor and Soldier thought that the faces he could get out of the one-eyed Scot were pretty awesome and completely worth getting a punch to the jaw when he made an untoward comment about them.

"S'long as ye agree not t'believe I'd sell ye out as a civ ever again." Demo said and allowed Soldier's hand to pull his pants down just enough to get to his awaiting and eager cock.

"I'll think about it." Soldier grinned before his hand began moving along his friend's length, hell-bent on exacting the same sighs and keening moans from the Scot that he had gotten from the Eyelander.
>> No. 8557
This was adorable.
>> No. 8559
Request!anon here, offering you love and hearts and grenades. That was beautiful. The Eyelander ghostly getting off has me grinning like an idiot. Thank you thank you!
>> No. 8575
Ok uh.
I requested this in the drawfag thread but realized I'd probably get farther requesting this here.
If you know me then you know I'm a shameless gurofag. I'd love to see something guro-y, non con, with sniper. Being horribly maimed in some way. Please thank you. <3
>> No. 8585
Dunno if this counts, but here goes anyway.

How about some Saxton Hale/Chicago Ted? I'd like to see some hot Australian/Mega Zombie-Buster action.
>> No. 8586
You guys want to make a miserable Cat Bountry feel better?

I would love to see some Medic/Heavy with some crossdressing thrown in. That would include panties, as well. I doesn't matter /who/ is doing the crossdressing, or even if it's done serious or silly. I would like to see it.

You will have my undying affection and maybe some drawings in return.
>> No. 8594
Still stuck in Writer's Block land for the time being (alas), but I can squeeze out some 100 word drabbles.


In the end, all I needed to do to tame the captured enemy Sniper was to take his eyes.

Sure, he would still put up some token resistance on occasion, but I didn't mind anymore, not when the others remained so cruel to him. To them, he was nothing more than a plaything for them, a vessel for their darkest, most brutal fantasies.

After the third time I was called in to mend his broken body so he wouldn't die and deprive them of their sick thrills, it occurred to me that I had begun to consider myself his protector.


The Medic had to admit that he was impressed. Not only had the Heavy somehow managed to get his hands on a dress in his size, but he also finagled the assistance of at least two teammates so he could squeeze into a girdle and wore enough makeup so that he looked like a woman if one squinted hard enough.

"Do not be sad, Doctor," the Heavy closed the distance between them. "I can be wife for you. And I would never, ever leave you for stupid Demoman."

He allowed himself a small smile. It was the thought that counted.
>> No. 8595
File 126229565312.gif - (19.84KB , 221x198 , 1lchiyo-thumbsup.gif )

>> No. 8596
DAMMIT HEAVY, WHY MUST YOU BE SO ADORABLE. Really, that gave my cavities cavities.
>> No. 8597
YES PLEASE. God yes. Oh, I've become giddy reading that. Oh my...
Yay and oh noooooo. If you do have at least something before the wall hitting, could you still post it? I'm generally happy with even unfinished fics.

Otherwise Godspeed in breaking down that wall, good sir or ma'am.
>> No. 8602
File 126232679015.jpg - (110.99KB , 467x600 , I am not sorry for this.jpg )
ffff- Requesting an AU r!Spy/b!Spy OR Spy/Sniper a la Mr and Mrs Smith.

I... I just want this with every fiber of my being.
>> No. 8605

everything you do is beautiful
>> No. 8609
I don't think these have been done yet... started at 11pm and ended at 2:20am. Brief spurts of watching Burn Notice in between... Happy New Years and I'm going to bed.

(P.S. Warning, these were self-beta'd at 2:30 in the morning... So... yeah. We all know how that goes.)



My wounds stain my blue jacket and the only thought I have is that it will be hard to clean out. I have never been this close to dying before and I suppose my brain is trying to keep away from the inevitable; the thoughts of dying.

I am so focused on the red contrasting with the blue and mentally cleaning it with my mind that I don't notice the crunch of jack-boots and only look up from the stains when I hear the German. And it isn't coming from my BLU one.

My blood-deprived mind isn't really up to the task of understanding foreign languages, but my gut tells me that it's not good. That and the fact that it's the /RED Medic/ and not the /BLU Medic/. That might have been the first hint though. Besides, I don't like the look that he's giving me as he sets his healing gun down and kicks my gun out of my limp hand. I was going to use that, too...

He says something and I merely stare up at him, not understanding anything but the leer that he gives me. His hands rip open my shirt before prodding my wounds, making me flinch and gasp some choice words in French. His finger probes into a wound, pushing the bullet deeper and making me cry and whine like Scout when I- and then his other hand starts picking at another one. I'm sure he's making a comment about how deep they are and, oh look! that one went all the way through, so he keeps pushing until he can see his middle finger pressing out of my back. I have never been in such pain in my life!

He withdraws his fingers and his hands move to my belt before yanking my pants down roughly to examine a healing cut I have across one of my thighs. He flicks out a scalpel and slits both the stitches and the healed skin. A sarcastically apologetic interjection is muttered before I feel the push and pull of a needle, no doubt as clean as Heavy's armpit. He doesn't use an anesthetic, so every prick of the needle and harsh tug of the thread adds to my pain. I can tell that the stitches are haphazard and uneven and then I realize that he just went through /healthy muscle/ to make a stitch...

He's moving to my bullet wounds now! He's sealing the bullets in and pulling the thread so tight that it cuts through my skin and he makes a soft 'oops'. It's something I recognize even if I can't summon the energy to understand English or German. I wonder if I can even understand French at the moment, but there's no way to know that.

His other hand travels down to my hip, rubbing the bone before gripping so hard that I gasp and feel the bruises forming even as he removes his hand. The enemy Medic stands and steps on the place, putting all his weight on it before I swear I can hear my pelvis creaking. Then I hear it crack and he laughs harshly as curses and whimpers and all manner of other things escape my mouth.

I then notice the bulge in his pants and that he's kneeling on either side of my torso and his blood-covered thumb hooks into the corner of my mouth. His other hand is unzipping his pants and he shifts back a bit so that he's sitting on my broken hip. I scream and gasp, allowing his thickly-gloved thumb to move and make a block so that my mouth is kept open.

My eyes are wide as I realize what one plus two equals three and this Medic's about to have his way with me. I feel liquid running from my eyes, the dams of years of emotionless killing are broken on just one thought, five bullet wounds and no less than two breaks and three cracks in my pelvis. As he stands again, his heel taps my good hip warningly as he slips his member into my waiting mouth and begins pushing in and out. I try to bite down on his thumb, but his heel comes down firmly on my hip and I stop immediately. My tongue runs along him, swirling, pushing pulling, writhing and trying to please if it means I get out of this alive. I see him approaching orgasm and there's a light of hope at the end of the tunnel! I bob my head faster and deeper, my tongue working ever harder before I feel the teeth of a bone saw on the back of my neck.

My eyes meet his and I see what is going to happen before it does. My neck is severed and blood warmer than my mouth gushes up and over his cock as he finally comes, reveling in the gore of it. He winks, knowing I know and then there's a pull. Then nothing.




The two companies were both stationed in the same hot spring. Why? Who could tell.

However, there was one thing that both teams knew. Those "NO RUNNING" signs? Those were completely and totally ignored by the two Scouts, naked and racing around the edges of the water, no one knew which was which.

The tables turned with one chasing and the other being chased a few times before anything really happened. The one chasing suddenly hit a slick spot and before anyone knew it, was pressing the other Scout against the wall, his member pressed tight against the other warm, tight rear as the other sixteen men roared in amusement. A few flustered 'fag' comments from both and they started rushing around again.

No one but them knew that they would end up in the same hotel room later that night.




"Your anatomy is all vong, /liebling/!" Medic scoffed as he watched Engineer sketch out a human outline on his blue prints.

"Then why aren't you drawing this out, darlin'?" Engineer snorted, putting his pencil back down and crossing his arms. Medic chuckled and resting his hands on the man's shoulders, leaning down to kiss his cheek affectionately.

"But you know zat you must get it precise on ze plans for everyzing to vork..." Medic remarked lightly. It was the same thing that Engineer had told him when Medic asked him why he used a ruler like Demo drank scotch.

"... that's if I'm actually planning on using them sometime." Engineer said, giving the doctor a glance and rolling his eyes at the pout.

"So ve are not going to make a son?" he asked softly, wrapping his arms around the man's neck.

"Daughter," Engineer mentioned as he turned his pencil to the eraser side. Once Medic began pointing out the lines that needed erasing, he did so.

"I zought we had zis settled..." Medic murmured against Engie's ear, watching out of the corner of his eye as the man's hand wavered in his line making before he set down the pencil and moved his hand up to rub through Medic's hair.

"/You/ said we had it settled." Engineer told the German, rubbing the back of the man's neck and getting a bite to his cartilage for his trouble. He sighed and tried to pull away from Medic. "I knew better than to try and- ow, dagnabit...- argue with you when you get like that."

"Like vhat?" Medic asked innocently, licking at the place he had bitten. He heard Engineer sigh and gave a soft chuckle. "Son?"

"Son." Engineer nodded as he began sketching out the things that they would replace on the kid and the mechanics that would make it up.

"Gut... now about ze legs, would it need to be /all/ mechanical, or vould it be possible to..." Medic motioned to what he was talking about.

"Way ahead of you, darl'." Engineer was already drawing out what Medic was thinking before he finished the request.

"Zis is vhy I love you... you know vhat I am zinking bevore I voice it." Medic gave the man's neck a kiss.

"You're just predictable." Engineer chuckled before wincing when Medic bit him again. He should learn to just not talk when his lover's mouth was near him.




"Alright, /amour/, we can do zis ze easy way or ze 'ard way..." Spy said as he moved over Sniper, sitting on his stomach and beginning to pull up his shirt.

"I 'aven't made 'ny complaints yet, love..." Sniper smirked and raised a brow at the man above him.

"But you will..." Spy informed him as he pushed up Sniper's shirt and ran his gloved hands over the thick muscles of the man's torso. "Right about..." he felt Sniper's leg hook behind his and try to push him over so that the larger man could be on top. "... now." Spy chuckled, using all his strength to keep them from rolling and succeeding pleasantly.

"Spy..." The Aussie attempted to give his tone a warning edge, but the hand slipping down his pants made his pitch fluctuate.

"/Oui/?" Spy leaned down to kiss the man's chest, nuzzling the expanse of manly hair that covered Sniper's torso.

"You don't think you're really stayin' up there..." he growled gruffly, trying to stare down the man above him as the other moved down his torso.

"Oh, I do..." Spy smirked, his hands moving to pin Sniper's when they tried to rise up from the mattress.

"... I don't like this..." Sniper grumbled, getting a chuckle from Spy and a soft kiss to his hip.

"/Desole, mon cher/..." Spy purred as he breathed lightly along the hair that ran from Sniper's navel to his privates.

"Ah... mate, don't do that. You know-" Sniper choked on his words when he saw Spy unbuttoning his pants with his goddamned mouth. "Wh..." Sniper didn't even realized that Spy's hands had left his own until they were tugging the article down and Spy's mouth was brushing lightly across the band of his briefs.

"Did you like zat?" Spy asked huskily, nibbling on the elastic band lightly before beginning to tug it down. Sniper seemed frozen, staring down at the Frenchman with his mouth slightly agape and a steadily mounting boner. "Honestly, /amour/..." Spy sighed after having to stretch the elastic over said boner. "Eet is not sexy to make me 'ave to work 'arder..."

"Then you shouldn't be vyin' for bein' on top, love..." Sniper countered, but had stopped any sign of struggling against Spy's dominance.

"Hm... as you say." Spy shrugged before kissing Sniper's cock and licking it lovingly. Once he was sure that it was as long as it was getting, he took Sniper in his mouth, tongue eager to please and very good at it from the reactions he got out of Sniper.

"Oh... yeah... yeah, I do, mate..." Sniper groaned, bucking into Spy's mouth once before his hips were forced back down onto the mattress and Spy gave him a warning squeeze with his lips. "Alright, alright..." Sniper gasped, though he was eager for Spy to squeeze him like that again. "If you'll just..." this time the squeeze was with teeth and Sniper realized that he wasn't getting to make suggestions. "... point made, mate, point made."

"Zen shut ze fuck up..." Spy mumbled around Sniper's erection, reaching up to slap his cheek sharply.

Sniper (wisely) didn't reply and deigned just to relax back and enjoy the ride of Spy topping. The Frenchman had always said that he was smart when he only had one option.
>> No. 8616

In all honesty though, I wasn't expecting to like the fill for that gore request. BUT YOU MADE ME LIKE IT YOU BAD, WONDERFUL PERSON, YOU.

Scouts were adorable, and Medic was surprisingly fitting for a dominant role with Engie. JUST GIVE IN, ENGIE, YOU'LL NEVER WIN WHILE MEDIC'S JAW IS STILL WORKING.

Toppy Spy was so hot I gave myself third degree burns. True story.
>> No. 8620
2010 IS OFF TO AN EXCELLENT START. Oh Scrunchy, you are brilliant. THANK YOU SO MUCH. Medic and Engie were adorable, and hot damn, Spy topping is beautiful. Excellent use of teeth there, ahahah.
>> No. 8626

>> No. 8635


Sniper wasn’t alone.

Of course he wasn’t alone, but no one would have been able to tell if it weren't for the heavy breathing and the soft, wanting moans. Sniper was up against a wall, hands bracing him shakily so that he wouldn’t fall onto the invisible man knelt down in the space between him and the wooden barrier. The lips wrapped around his throbbing erection were quite experienced, and the tongue was possibly even better.

If he glanced down, he wouldn’t be able to see the enemy, the RED Spy giving him a blowjob. Sniper could only see his cock, which was twitching and pulsing heatedly. Somehow that made the man more aroused, and he closed his eyes and moaned a little louder than he intended.

A hushing noise came from behind him just as Sniper felt the fingers preparing him slip out and another hot body pressed against him. BLU Spy’s lusty breath ran across his ear, making him shudder. Quickly, the second invisible Frenchman guided himself in, and Sniper arched his back at the pain and pleasure that ripped through him.

There was a moment’s pause as RED Spy pulled away; Sniper had felt the man gagging around his cock. He must’ve thrust too hard into his mouth. Grimacing, he mouthed an apology to the empty air below him, and was rewarded with an airy kiss on his tip before the wet heat enveloped his cock again.

It got even better as BLU Spy began thrusting into him and almost immediately began hitting the perfect spot inside of him. Sniper struggled to keep still, but his toes curled against the cold, wooden floor, and his hips twitched as they attempted to decide whether or not they should grind back or thrust forward.

Finally, things began to speed up, and Sniper tensed. With a sharp gasp and a hissing exhale, Sniper came, hard, into the waiting, invisible Spy’s mouth. He could even see his semen come out and disappear. It was as fascinating as it was hot.

BLU Spy came soon after and the soft gasps near Sniper’s ear sent pleasant tingles down his spine. A few minutes passed before the RED pulled away, the BLU pulled out, and the two Spies decloaked. All three collapsed onto Sniper’s bed, breathing raggedly. Sniper chuckled, RED still needed to be…relieved of his problem.

“Who’s up for a game of endurance?” The two Spies looked at Sniper and grinned coyly. Sniper smirked, pleased with their reactions. This is why he loved his little ‘Spy Harem’.
>> No. 8636
So... if anyone was wondering why I'm suddenly making a lot of kink stuffs, I'm going through the list and writing what I can think of... because there are so many more requests than requests fulfilled... It's my New Year's Resolution to get through as many of these as I can, I guess... ANYWAYS, enjoy!



Yes, Pyro mumbles will kill your eyes.... deal with it <3


"G'damn..." Scout muttered and blushed immediately afterwards. His mother had taught him that staring was rude, but wasn't he allowed if he was looking at a lover's body? Well... he thought it was a body beneath the burns; the sinewy muscles that skin was absent from; the raw places that the heat had melted the skin and the suit together that Pyro had urged Scout to pull harder in order to rip it away from the skin.

"Sick, i'n'it?" Pyro grumbled as he finished tugging his mask the rest of the way off.

"No, man... it's kinda cool..." Scout admitted, moving closer across the bed and tentatively touching some scar tissue that clung to the muscle beneath, giving a perfect rendition of the texture of the raw muscle it covered. Pyro shifted a bit, grating out a noise that sounded like a smoker's chuckle from his throat. "Was that...?"

"Shu'up, 'm ticklish..." Pyro said, moving his hand to guard against the Scout's inquisitive hands.

"Y'see, this is why no one can understand you, Mumbles... you mumble in the suit and the mask just makes it worse." Scout lectured, running his hands up the scar littered torso and kissing the raw places gently, getting soft hisses from the Pyro.

" 'N' this 's why n'one li'es y'..." Pyro muttered, stroking the young man's hair. "... y' ne'er shu'up."

"Gotta problem with it?" Scout asked, moving onto the Pyro's lap and crossing his arms with a raised brow.

" 'M st'rtin' t' h've pr'bl'ms w'th m' sh'rts, tho'..." Pyro mentioned, pushing his hips up at the younger man's keister.

"I can feel that," Scout said, blushing a bit at said feeling and reaching back to start pulling them down, tugging a bit harder to get the melted elastic from his waistband to detach from his skin.

"Hm... g'd." Pyro groaned softly when Scout slid down his lap to sit on his legs. "... y' ok'y?" Pyro asked curiously when he saw Scout wince at the sight of the burns and scars that patched across his cock.

"Y-yeah... I'm fine, man..." Scout said softly, tenderly rubbing a patch at the base before leaning down to kiss the head. "Damn... why do you let your job do this to you?" he asked. His tongue was already moving across the other man's skin before he could answer and Pyro grumbled something, but it was even more distorted than the man's normal mumblings and even Scout couldn't decipher it. He took it as a good sign, though, and continued his movements. He knew how Pyro felt about his burns and wanted to let the man know that he was fine with them. He didn't care about the scars and burns, just the man beneath them.




BLU Sniper felt his hat being lifted off his head and gave a soft sigh.

"Not now, mate..." he muttered, taking a pot shot at the RED Demoman and watching him duck around behind something.

"Why not?" RED Spy's voice murmured and the Sniper felt the invisible arms of his lover wrap around his waist.

"We're supposed to be working, for one..." Sniper replied, taking another shot at the Demoman as he tried to keep him undercover so that the BLU Scout could get his ass to the base safely.

"Work is slow today, though... I'm bored..." Red informed him as he began teasing the spot behind Sniper's ear and waiting for the man to put his gun down and turn around for some tomfoolery.

"Tough..." Sniper said simply as he raised his gun to take aim again. He felt Red frown against his ear before the Spy uncloaked and slid his hands up BLU Sniper's torso and down his arms to cup his hands on his gun.

"Are you still mad abou-"

"Yep." Sniper cut him off before taking a shot, allowing his shoulder to kick back into the Spy with a huff.

"Ah... how petty..." Red said as he rested his chin on the Sniper's shoulder. His hand on Sniper's left moved from the hand to the barrel of the rifle, tracing his fingertips up and down the metal before circling his hand around it and beginning to move it up towards the tip and then back down toward the stock.

"... will you stop that?" Sniper asked rather irritably and Red grinned, kissing the back of his neck gently.

"What would you rather I do?" he purred softly as his right hand traversed from Sniper's right hand down to his stomach and then his pants, pulling at the belt practicedly before Sniper's right hand caught his wrist. "... you are not really stopping me." He murmured, pressing himself against his lover and taking the shell of his ear in his lips to suck on it. He /would/ get the Sniper to humor him, make no mistake. He was just having a few issues with his irate lover. How was he supposed to know that the man didn't like him being /too/ familiar with the BLU Spy?

"Yes, I am." Sniper stated, trying to pull the Spy's hand away from his belt.

"You can't be /that/ mad at me." Red grumbled, wresting his hand from the Sniper's grip and resuming his pulling at the belt.

"Why not?" Sniper asked, moving his hands back to his rifle.

"Because you are as excited as I am..." Red informed him, giving his boner a pat through his jeans.

"... one more shot."



Red smirked and rubbed the Sniper through his jeans. "As you like..."



I dunno if this is satisfactory...


"Oh, /amour/, I saw what happened! I'm so sorry... I didn't... he..." the BLU Spy kissed his RED lover on the lips, wrapping the Sniper in his arms and escalating it to push his tongue past the slack lips.

"Wh... whoa, whoa, slow d-... you're a BLU, wot the flying fuck are ye doin'?" The RED Sniper raged at the Spy, pushing him away and stumbling back from him with a look of hate.

"... wh... what...?" Spy murmured softly, taking a step towards the man with a hurt expression.

"He lost his memory..." the RED Medic said from a dark corner of the room and the moonlight outside slanted in to catch his glasses. "He does not remember you, only that you are BLU and BLU is the enemy..."

"No..." Spy shook his head and looked at the RED Sniper beseechingly. "Don't do this to me..." he felt his heart breaking at the look that the man was giving him and when the Sniper reached for his gun, Spy decided he had outstayed his welcome and rushed to the window-

"Wot th' bloody hell d'ye think yer doin', love?!" Sniper's arms were around him and Spy's eyes shot open. When had he closed them? "Stop squirmin', 'm not gonna 'urt ye..." he murmured soothingly to the man.

"Wh... I... you didn't..." Spy gasped, first in French, then German, and now in English.

"I didn't wot? I'm right 'ere, love... nothing's wrong." Sniper muttered to the babbling man, moving him around to look at him more clearly. "It was just a dream..." he assured Spy softly, moving a hand up to stroke his hair and kiss his sweating brow gently.

"I... you fell... and... then I came and... ze other BLU Spy had pushed you and when you respawned... /oh God/ when you respawned, you didn't know me and you thought I was the enemy and you pushed me away even though I wanted to-" his babbling was cut off by his Sniper's lips and they stayed there until his breathing calmed and his eyes closed.

"It. Was just. A dream." Sniper's voice was harsh and commanding as he clutched Spy to his chest, making sure very aspect of their bodies touched to assure the man that he was really there and not leaving any time soon.


"... a nightmare." Sniper finished for him. Spy's eyes drooped and he relaxed, soon falling asleep in the Sniper's arms. Sniper smiled fondly at his enemy-turned-lover and allowed his own eyes to close as he rejoined the Spy in sleep.
>> No. 8638
It's even hotter when I'm not looking for stuff to correct! <4
>> No. 8641
heck yeah, pyro and scout. i liked this. short and sweet.
>> No. 8643
I feel like a kid in a candy store, no lie.

Jaiven- Nicely done, very nicely done. Sniper looking at himself, oh man. No words for you just- nghhhh!

And Scrunchy, you are on a roll. I really liked the Red/Sniper one and the Pyro/Scout was sweet. Keep them coming! C:
>> No. 8645
Why heeeello there~
Very nice
>> No. 8666
my prompts for these kinds of things are a bit...odd...

My prompt: "The safety word is 'Megatron.'"

I hope someone tries this; if so, good luck C:< can't wait to see what you come up with. And yes, I know how weird I am. I embrace it.
>> No. 8670
Oh god somebody please do this!
>> No. 8682
Requester says yay!
>> No. 8708
here's some request copy pasta of mine.

I'd like to ask for a Soldier/Scout fiction. Thing is though, I'd like it if there was some damn romance in it. Enough romance that it's cute and all of that nonsense, and enough that Soldier and Scout can stay in character.

I'll leave the specific to the writer. Dirty it up all you like, kinks and stuff are always great.

So yeah, if someone could do this, I'd be so thankful~
>> No. 8710

Please note, as soon as I saw that, this Transformers fan nearly fell out of her seat laughing. Thank you.
>> No. 8720
Working on this. :)

But for now: >>7520
Soldier/Sniper. Total pwp.


Soldier has been teaching Sniper drill commands in their spare time. It makes excellent pillow talk, and it surprises him that Sniper wants to learn in the first place—though he is beginning to figure out why.

“I don’t take orders from you, private,” he scoffs, “And didn’t I tell you that position of attention comes before parade rest?”

Sniper rolls his eyes, raises his thigh and presses it between Soldier’s legs. He doesn’t rub, cocky little Aussie thinks he doesn’t need to.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but something’s definitely at attention now, sir,” he smirks.

Well, that much is true at least. Soldier lets out a breath, even and slow, and he straightens, clasping his hands behind his back, thumbs hooked. Smug as any other drill sergeant Soldier has ever seen, Sniper nudges his legs apart, shoulder width and feet pointed forward.

At one point in his life, Soldier would have been able to stand in that very position for hours at a time. He thinks he can still do it too, but when Sniper kneels down in front of him and licks his cock like a goddamn popsicle treat, Soldier begins to doubt himself.

He can feel Sniper grin, teeth grazing over the heightened skin, and Soldier tries his damndest not to swallow his own tongue in order keep quiet. No one talks during parade rest, no matter how uncomfortable it gets, or how good the blowjob is.

Soldier stares at a spot on the wall, remembering the little things that had gotten him through so many other drills before. Don’t lock the knees, keep the weight equally distributed on the feet, breathe steady, and block out any noise except the drill sergeant or commanding officer—but that part, he finds, is difficult to do because Sniper is making little mmm, mmm hums around his cock and it echoes loudly in the quiet room.

Soldier clenches his jaw. He’s not moving, but his whole body is straining so much that it feels like he’s trembling anyway. Sniper’s chapped lips counter the soft wetness of his mouth, and his tongue doesn’t seem to pause or linger at any one spot for too long. It’sbliss, and Soldier wants to tell Sniper to keep going, don’t stop, Christ, it feels so damn good—but he blinks rapidly instead.

As if sensing his dwindling resolve, Sniper pulls away—it almost makes Soldier whimper in protest—and stands up. Soldier’s erection is between them, brushing against Sniper’s pants when the Aussie leans in. The bastard makes sure Soldier can see the dribble of precum at the corner of his mouth.

“Bloody hell, I almost feel sorry for you,” Sniper teases, and annoys Soldier even more by licking his lips, slow and deliberate. He moves even closer, one hand holding the back of Solder’s head while the other grips his cock, thumbing the tip and rubbing it in steady circles.

Solder’s almost panting now. His chest heaves and his knees are about to give—Sniper’s hand against his head is the only thing keeping him standing, and soon it’s Sniper’s mouth hovering over his ear, still damp with precum and saliva.

“At ease, Soldier,” Sniper finally growls.

And Solder comes.
>> No. 8721
Thank you tantared. Thank you for furthering the Solly porn cause. I loved this. We definitely need more Soldier/whatever (because the other classes are scrubs)
>> No. 8722
This. Was. Beautiful.
>> No. 8723

oh yes. This one pleases Kilo. Bonus points for using Sniper as the man needs more options other than Spy and Scout imo.
>> No. 8728
Spy is caught off-guard by the advances of one of his teammates. The trend with him must be broken: no intimate knowledge of gay sex, does not lead the relationship sexually, etc. I'd love to see him characterized differently and it'd be funny for the Spy of all people to be oblivious to a teammate's attraction to him.
>> No. 8738

(This, um, ended up a little darker than I planned to. It's non-class specific, so feel free to read it in the accent of your choice.)

You don't mind the name calling you hear "behind" your back. Backstabbing sissy, Eurofag coward, unreliable sneak...it drew a boundary between you and the rest of your team, and you are fine with that. A Spy is supposed to be shadowy and untrustworthy and not form ties with anyone, after all.

Except he corners you--stupid, stupid, stupid! Underestimating him just because he is drunk off his ass--when the both of you are very much alone and there is no one to cry out to. Or maybe they are watching somewhere, laughing at the idiot Spy who got beat by his own game.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been watching you?" He breathes against your neck.

You don't answer, frozen with indecision and terror. Would he become angry if you lashed out at him? Would you face disciplinary measures should you attempt to disembowel a teammate? Of all the people to pin you to a wall and express desire, he is the last person you expected, and you don't know how to react to this at all.

"For so long, I've dreamed of this." His hands pull and prod; all of a sudden one has dipped into your pants and you want nothing more than to get away as fast and far as you can. You are by no means unaware of what men do when deprived of more refined pleasures, but you have yet to experience it yourself and you are in no mood to have your ass virginity taken in such circumstances.

"Get your hands off me--" you risk a rough shove, hoping to take him by surprise and make a break for it.

He grabs your one wrist and twists it just far enough to cause pain. "Don't try to play coy."

Shit, shit, shit! You kick at his shin, trying to free yourself.

"Why you wriggly little--"

Too late you see his fist fly at your head. As you blink away stars, he forces you to the ground, forcing your one arm and then the other against your back.

"Guess I was wrong. You aren't going to make this easy on yourself, after all. Good thing I came prepared."

Another blow to the head keeps you from fighting him as he binds your wrists with--what in the world is that? Duct tape?--and his hands are all over you again, groping and massaging and very much unwanted.

"Stop this," you wheeze through the pain, hoping against all odds that perhaps he will have a change of heart. "Please, don't--"

"Don't be shy." A sudden tug, a coldness that strikes deep into your heart, and that thing poking into your back proves that he is just going to keep going no matter what you say or do. "I promise you'll be begging for more in no time."
>> No. 8739
Good God, never leave.
>> No. 8740
i'd like to see a humorous take on this too
>> No. 8741
If this is dark, then dark is good.
>> No. 8744
>> No. 8746

oh god yes

>> No. 8747
Nazi or not, Medic's youth and upbringing must have had some effect on his feelings about people of color, so he's conflicted when he develops feelings for Demoman. The lure of the forbidden. Panties optional.
>> No. 8753
>> No. 8766


"Sometimes I regret falling in love with the Spy. But it's not the fast life-style or that my life is constantly in danger. I love that kinda shit, that's why I joined up with you faggots in the first place!" The Scout pauses and I motion for him to carry on with his rant. "It's... it's that I can't touch the bastard. I mean, I'll want a hug or something and we just pass through each other. We can't kiss or cuddle or /anything/ that normal freaking couples can and it drives me insane.

"But then there's that thing that he does when he's touching himself, moaning /my/ name like it's me doing the touching instead of him. Those French things he says when he's watching me do the same and the way his pants tent as I strip for him in the showers..." he sighs as if it's a fond memory and I groan mentally. Psychiatry is my least favorite part of this job.

"What I love most about him, though," he's continuing again and I bring myself out of my thoughts, "is the soft 'I love you's and '/je t'aime/'s before we fall asleep... and those times in the middle of the night when we wake up in the middle of each other and just smile, wishing we really were before falling asleep again. Maybe someday after this war we can touch and kiss and hug, but until then- /and even after/- you're going to keep your trap shut about all of this! Y'got me?"

I sigh and nod my head with a roll of my eyes. "/Ja/, Scout... doctor-patient confidentiality und all..." like I want to tell anyone about a whimsical little boy's eroticies.

"Good, let's keep it that way." Scout states before standing and heading for the door of my infirmary, letting the door click rather loudly behind him.




Spy thrusted in and out of the young man beneath him, kissing the soft, bare back and the smooth, tight muscles that stretched before him. His hand worked over Scout's desperate cock. The almost constant twitching signaled how close the younger man was to release and he relished every second of it. He paused with his hand gripping the base, unwilling to move back up to the tip as he stopped moving.

"Dude... what... the /fuck/ are you doin' stoppin'?" Scout's voice rasped against the mattress beneath them.

"Hm... I do not want you to release quite yet." Spy purred against his spine before dragging his teeth across the skin he had previously been kissing. "You know what I want first..." he breathed softly, giving the younger man a gentle squeeze.

"Ah..." Scout gasped before gritting his teeth and whimpering a soft, "/s-s'il te plait/."

Spy's lips curved into a smirk against Scout's back. "Zat was not so hard, now, was it?" Spy said, giving one last thrust and pump before feeling Scout's release seep over his hand.

"Yeah... whatever..." Scout muttered, pushing back against him and making Spy squirm a bit before giving the young man a few more thrusts and finishing inside him. "Y'happy now, fag?"

"/Oui/..." Spy muttered before pulling out, tugging Scout closer to his chest and falling asleep.


"Ow, fuck man!" Scout grumbled as Sniper bit his shoulder rather hard.

"Stop complainin', mate." Sniper said once he pulled back to look at his work.

"Then stop fuckin' making bite-art on my back, stupid Fagstralian." Was Scout's answer. Sniper snorted at the insult and leaned down to bite Scout again, a bit harder this time. "Ah... f-fuck..." Scout whimpered, his voice failing to retain his cocky attitude in the face of Sniper's harsh teeth.

"Maybe later... if ye whimper for me again." Sniper chuckled, nuzzling the plethora of red marks across the Scout's back.


"You freakin' serious, man?" Scout asks as Engineer sets him up on his desk and gives him a calculating look.


"There's no way that we can settle this... without doin' something like this?"

"Nope." Engineer's hands move from Scout's hips around to the front of his pants before one pulls back and the other begins to massage Scout through his pants. His hand moves and pushes against the growing bulge as Scout shifts and groans, moving himself forward to grind against Engineer's hand. "See? It ain't so bad..." Engineer chuckles and cups his hand, allowing the young man to grind into him at his heart's content.

"Hey..." Scout gasped when he realized he was doing all the work. "Y-wh... why aren't you...?" he paused to whimper, "... why aren't you moving your fucking hand, Fagineer?"

"Y'seem t'be doin' a fine job yourself," Engineer commented, still not moving his hand.

"Ngh... fucker... move your hand..." Scout whined pleading, practically humping Engineer's hand.

"Nah..." Engineer's amused smirk infuriated Scout, but the aroused young man couldn't do anything except continue to grind the other man's hand against the desk.


"How'd ye like tha', lad?" Demo asked, taking a swig of scrumpy and chuckling when Scout finished swallowing his own gulp with a whimper.

"It's... ah..." Scout coughed and took a deep breath before reaching for the bottle again, though Demo jerked it back and made Scout fall forward across his lap. Scout allowed his face to rest in the Scot's lap for a bit before looking up at the surprised man.

"Y'enjoyin' yerself doon thar, lad?" Demo scoffed, taking a drink of his liquor.

"Mm..." Scout mumbled against his crotch.

Demo's hand moved to rest on the young man's hair and he cautiously pressed Scout's face against his crotch. Scout mumbled something that sounded like he was enjoying the treatment- at least to Demoman's inebriated mind- and it prompted the Scot to push harder, enjoying the friction against his body's more sensitive aspects.

The sound of a whimper from Scout made him stop and look down at the younger man.

"... I said, 'no,' dumbass..." he muttered softly, pulling back when Demo withdrew his hand.

"Oh..." Demo blinked before holding out his bottle to the young man and smiling when it was taken.

"Yeah... douchefag..." Scout grumbled before moving to lay back on the Scot's lap.

"Thought ye didn'-"

"I just said I didn't want my face shoved in your crotch... never said your lap wasn't a fuckin' good pillow." Scout cut him off before taking a swig.

"Ach... ye're worse than a woman..." Demo muttered, reaching for the bottle.

"What was that?" Scout asked, holding it away from the man with a smirk.

"... noothin', gimme back mah drink."

"Not until you say 'I'm a fuckin' douchefag.' "

"Ye want tae face me crotch 'gain?" Demo warned with a glare. Suffice to say, he got the bottle back with little more than a muttered: "douchefag..." from Scout.
>> No. 8767
Your wish is my command.
As always, your writing is fantastic <3
>> No. 8776
Whoa, I've never actually gotten a prompt filled before. (>>7508 here) That was really quite sweet. Thanks!
>> No. 8780
No problem, I'm glad that you liked it = )
>> No. 8796
I want something to do with Scout's legs. Thigh-fucking, strenuous positions, anything. Art would probably be prefered but blowjobs all round for a fic!
>> No. 8797
Established Soldier/Scout. It didn’t quite come out the way I wanted it to because I am utter pants at making cocky screaming nutjobs have hot sex. Not very explicit this time, eh.


He tells the boy to keep his damn dog tags under his shirt but, as usual, Scout never listens. Soldier hates seeing them bounce against the younger man’s chest when he runs; it’s distracting, makes him think they’re too loose and will fall off if Scout doesn’t keep them safe.

“And if those damn tags get lost, then how the hell are we going to send your sorry ass home when you end up dead?” he barks.

Scout gives him an annoyed look—the words don’t sting a bit—and he sneers, “I ain’t dyin’.”

Soldier tries hard not to grin, keeps his face stern. “Damn right you ain’t.”

“I’m not,” Scout reassures, like he can see right through Soldier’s gruff voice.

“Then you’d best prove it, cupcake,” he says.

And Scout does. He comes back from every battle with nothing more than a few tiny cuts and bruises. Soldier is always glad, but the dog tags swing in front of Scout, jangling and getting all knotted, and Scout just grins and blows mocking kisses each time he comes back to base, safe and sound. Of course, those mocking kisses aren’t so mocking when they are alone, but it’s infuriating in any case.

One day after battle, Soldier pulls Scout by the collar of his shirt, dragging him close.

“Hey, man! What the hell—“ Scout begins, but quiets down when Soldier starts to untangle the dog tags. His ears are red as he mutters, “C’mon. I can take care of myself.”

Soldier knows this—he would never send Scout out to fight if it weren’t true—but it doesn’t stop him from keeping his hands on Scout’s shoulders.

“You queer,” Scout grumbles again, glancing around to see if anyone is nearby. There isn’t; the locker room is empty.

“Queer? Hell no it isn’t,” Soldier says, finding it ironic since he wasn’t the one blowing kisses like a faggot, “This is queer.” And he shoves Scout against the wall, jamming their mouths together.

After a muffled curse, the younger man relaxes for a moment, lets Soldier taste his lips, run his tongue over a cut at the corner of his mouth, and makes a little snerk noise like he’s laughing. He pulls off his headset and it clatters to the ground. Soldier would have snapped at him for treating his equipment like crap, but Scout chooses that moment to grab the back of his neck and show a little initiative by rolling his hips forward.

They tussle for a bit, tugging off clothes and exchanging taunts as well as kisses—is that all you got, I dare you to do that, yeah, go ahead, right there, maggot. Soldier gets rid of Scout’s shirt and pants in short order, and Scout only manages to throw down Soldier’s uniform coat, leaving him fully clothed in his trousers and undershirt. He feels Scout’s hands slide around his collar, cold and slick with perspiration. Something tickles his neck and Soldier realizes that Scout is pulling out his dog tags, stringing the chain through his fingers.

“What do you think you’re doing, private?” he growls.

“Just looking,” Scout replies. “You never take them off, do you?” He brings a hand up and tilts Soldier’s helmet back until it falls off with a hollow clunk on the floor.

Unimpressed, Soldier leans in so that Scout has to stand straight against the wall to look properly at him. His chest presses against the other and Scout seems to shiver from the chill of their metal dog tags playing on his naked skin.

“What, you don’t like them or something?” he asks dangerously. Soldier knows there have been incidents—the tags sometimes clip their eyes, or the necklaces pull tight enough to choke—but no one has been complaining until now.

“No, I was just sayin’.” Scout glares at him, muttering something under his breath. He toys with the thin metal plate before setting it between his teeth and lets go of the tiny chain so that it dangles between them. The tag fogs under his warm breath, obscuring Solder’s ID, and it draw’s Soldier’s attention to the cocky curve of his mouth and bared teeth.

The truth is, it goes beyond having some way to identify a dead body on the battlefield. He and Scout, arguably, are the loudest members of the team, but when they are screwing each other, it goes quiet—quiet enough to hear the clinking of metal tags against their bodies when Soldier pushes in against Scout, the ball chains grating together, it’s like music to his ears. Scout threads his fingers through the necklaces again and he knows the other man likes it too. He keeps Soldier’s tags in his mouth to stay muffled, teeth biting down hard and scraping against the indents of letters and numbers—his name, blood type, identification code—everything Soldier is.

He moans, but very quietly. Scout drops the tags from his mouth to show that he’s losing it, that Soldier can thrust him against the wall a few more times before he comes.

When they’re done, the best thing is pulling away and hearing the ball chains rattle, looped through each other in a tangled mess. It forces them to lean in close to try and sort through the snares, and gives Soldier the excuse to look closely at Scout’s ID, memorize the letters and numbers that are important to him, just in case Scout does lose them out in the battlefield.

It's easier that way. Soldier won't have to do anything except wait for the day Scout comes back with one dog tag missing, the other one mangled and broken beyond recognition, and even then, Soldier will know exactly where to send the body home.
>> No. 8799
I have such a necklace kink; you seriously have no idea how much this tickled my fancy. <3
>> No. 8800
The end almost made me cry, it was so sweet. I'm agreeing with >>8799 on the necklace thing, too. That was pretty sexy.
>> No. 8802

This is even better than I had imagined.
>> No. 8811
that was so fabulous. <3
thank you so much!!
>> No. 8820
Anon humbly requests Tentaspy/Scout/Sniper. Possibly something involving voyeurism at first leading up to hot threesome times later. And this anon would very much like it if the sex was consensual for all involved parties? Since we already have so much Tentaspy raep in the world, I figure a little more of the consensual side couldn't hurt.

Specific request is specific, many apologies. If anyone actually fills it, they will have my eternal gratitude.
>> No. 8824
You filled all the possible pairings for Scout whimpering instead of choosing one?
Scrunchy is credit to kink thread.
>> No. 8831
I'll work on this. <4

I could't just pick /one/. It wouldn't be fair to the other three. Glad you liked it? =D
>> No. 8836

Also working on this one. Mind doublefill?
>> No. 8837
Can there ever be too much porn in this meme?
>> No. 8839

You have an excellent point.
>> No. 8841
Thigh fucking, fuck yes.
>> No. 8863
This is turning out really long, so one part at a time.


"I saw a frickin' monster."

"Uh-huh," said Engie, not bothering to look up from whatever weird shit he was working on. "Sure ya did."

"I'm serious! There's something down there."

"Mm-hm," Medic said, flicking the tip of a needle. "Remember vhat I told you, not to be drinking ze vater at ze hydro plant."

"I saw it when I was runnin' for the intel. This big ol' shadow lurking around the tunnels."

"Then go get!" Heavy laughed. "Beat up monster and bring back head."

"It's friggin' huge, with tentacles or some shit!"

"Mrff mrm."

"Man, I don't know why I bother talkin' to you."


Scout didn't stay given up for long. The next day, after ceasefire, he was right back to hunting down somebody who would give a damn.

Okay, not right after. That was dinner, and a man needed to eat.

Anyway, there was a monster or something in their base, and he was <i>not</i> dealing with that thing alone. He needed some backup here. So, after dinner, he went looking for the one guy who knew something about weird-ass animals. They had monsters in Australia, right?

Sniper always listened to him, too. When Scout told him about a sweet perch he'd stumbled on exploring - <i>exploring</i>, not <i>lost</i>, dumbass - Sniper used it. Even said, "Thanks, mate." The thing was, he disappeared a lot, and if he didn't want you finding him you weren't gonna. So Scout kept an eye on him and slipped out behind him after dinner to try to talk somewhere no faggy Frenchie was gonna overhear and say "Aren't you a little old to believe in monstairz?"

Sniper wasn't as quick on his feet as Scout, but he didn't waste time and had a way of slipping around things. Scout kept almost losing him around corners. It was almost like he didn't want anybody to know where he was going.

Wait a minute...hadn't he been quiet tonight? Acting a little funny? Listening a little too closely? Shit, if the other guys were sending in spies after ceasefire, that was fucked up! Scout could catch him red-handed! Blue-handed. Whatever.

And there he went, down into the waterways under the base. Scout looked around the corner and darted in after him before he had the chance to think about it. The place was even creepier at night. He didn't know where light was coming from, but he could see decent, once his eyes adjusted. The air smelled wet, and there wasn't any sound but Sniper's steps and water lapping at concrete. Scout followed into the tunnels, trying to keep quiet. He didn't have much practice at that, so it took a lot of concentration. He almost went around a corner and smacked into Sniper. He jumped back and flattened against the wall. He have to have spotted him. Shit. And he was getting so <i>good</i> at keeping knives out of his back.

When Scout got up the nerve to peek around, he was just standing there. Hands in his pockets, looking around casually. Scout tried to keep his breathing quiet. He stayed there for a long time, until the damp from the walls was soaking through Scout's thin shirt and he was beginning to feel kinda like a moron. This was probably just Sniper's way of getting some privacy. He looked like he was waiting for something, but hell, this was the guy who could sit and wait for six hours for somebody to poke their head out of a door. He probably always looked like that. Scout was starting to think he might as well come out and just say that he was, uh, exploring or something, hey what a coincidence, anyway while you're here-

Did the water just get louder?

There was more than just the little wave noises. There was something moving. Something close.

Scout's body decided that being real flat and real quiet was a good idea, though he kept staring at Sniper. Whatever the hell the thing was, they could double-team it and maybe get away just losing a couple limbs they wouldn't miss that much.

Something was coming out of the water in front of Sniper.

What, did staring at things ten miles away all the time make you blind or something? He didn't even take off his goddamn sunglasses!

Whatever it was, it was human-shaped. It looked like a man coming out of the channel, water running off of it, except moving way too straight up and smooth for somebody who'd been swimming. It was more like...rising. It had a weird dark head with no hair-

No. A mask.

And it kept coming. Where legs should have been there was a dark, tangled mass, just like the silhouette of something huge Scout had seen before, except a lot closer and a lot, lot worse. It was a Spy with a fucking giant octopus for a body, heaving shiny thick tentacles out of the water and headed straight for Sniper. He looked straight at it like it was something he'd seen a million times, and didn't even flinch.

Scout was never, <i>ever</i> going to Australia.
>> No. 8867

That last line killed me.
>> No. 8874
Well where do you think Tentaspies COME from? Down here, it isn't a billabong without some horrific monster. Every second creek has a Kraken.
And don't even get me STARTED on the Basilisks. Hoo boy. Took a WEEK to get those things out of the roof. On the plus side, my brothers make pretty good lawn ornaments.
Anyway so I've gotta go feed the Gryphon now.
>> No. 8883

I was the one who asked for >>7503 and I am pleased! I already loved you, Scrunchy, but I am now aglow with gratitude! Thank you! (I just can't believe I didn't see this before...)
>> No. 8885
Yay! I'm kind of proud of that one.

I KNEW it!


"Back so soon, mon cher?" With the pointy teeth it was hard to tell it was a friendly smile, if you weren't used to it. "If I did not know better, I would think you 'ad begun to miss me."

"'s not easy to get down 'ere, mate." Sniper tipped his hat back apologetically. "That's wot I come to talk to you about."

His friend brought some of its tentacles up onto the walkway and leaned forward, for all the world like a guy leaning on his arms on a desk.

"The kid's catching on," Sniper said. He tapped the guy on the forehead with his finger. The wet mask squished. "You gotta be more careful 'bout lettin' yourself get seen."

"Ze boy 'oo is always shouting? 'Oo would believe him?"

"It only takes Pyro gettin' bored one day and doin' a thorough sweep through here." Sniper tilted his glasses down to give him a stern look. "So keep your head down if you don't wanna end up calimari."

"Perhaps you are right." The end of a tentacle wound companionably around Sniper's shoulders. "It is only zat I get so lonely, down here in ze dark and ze cold."

"I know, I know," Sniper said, patting a tentacle. "There's only so often I can sneak off without somebody gettin' suspicious."

He'd first found the fella when he was wandering through the tunnels months ago, looking for ways to travel to good positions without being spotted by the enemy. He'd heard somebody following him and figured he wasn't the only one with that idea. He'd hunted the culprit down, ready to wake up in the respawn room any minute, since the close quarters put him at a disadvantage. Once he'd coaxed the interloper out of the shadows at gunpoint, Sniper'd bnearly had to laugh. Just an octopusman.
Since then, he'd come by whenever he could, and they'd become chums. Sure, he had claws and tentacles and teeth like a bear trap. Sniper'd known plenty of one hundred percent bona fide humans who were less civilised, and who was he to judge?

"'Ere, this'll cheer you up. Brought somethin' for ya."

Sniper unbuttoned his vest pocket and pulled out two boxes, one the size of his palm and the other a good deal smaller, and put them into the gloved hands. They looked just like a human's, except for the little sharp points at the fingertips.

"Cigarettes?" His friend's face lit up. "Ah, you are truly a bon ami."

"The matches are covered in wax. Waterproof."

"You zink of all ze details." He took the prize and tucked it inside his jacket. Sniper didn't know where he'd gotten the top half of a blue pinstripe suit, but he wasn't the type to pry into other people's business. "How can I show my appreciation?"

"No worries. It's nothing much- oy!"

Sniper yelped as tentacles caught him from four directions at once and pulled him up. Tentaspy glided fully out of the water and twisted around to put his back to the wall and perch Sniper on his lap.

Sniper laughed dizzily and turned in his arms. Tentacles. All that. "If you wanted a kiss, mate, you shoulda just said so."

His lips were cold at first. They warmed up fast. Sniper ran his tongue along the serrated ridge of his teeth. His mouth was as hot and wet as anybody's, and Sniper appreciated the way he had of taking his time.

Sniper felt his hat and glasses lift off, as a tentacle pushed his vest off his shoulders and another slipped under his shirt. He helped shimmy out of it and tossed it, aiming for somewhere dry. He really should be getting back, but hell, a little while couldn't hurt. He smiled at a tentacle tip tracing his spine.

"Useful things, all those arms o' yours," Sniper said, running his hand down the thick trunk of one near where it attached to the Tentaspy's body, making him sigh in pleasure.

"I don't know 'ow you ozers get by. If I had only zee two, I could not do zis..."

A pair of tentacles tugged down his pants while the two humanlike hands ran down Sniper's chest, teasing with the edge of gloved claws. Sniper let out a little bit of an "ooh." One tentacle curled securely around his waist, like getting a hug from an affectionate python. His pants fell down around his ankles and were caught on his boots, to his amusement. The one thing those tentacles couldn't manage was shoelaces, though they'd once spent an entertaining day trying.

What they could do was touch everywhere at once, cool and slick, warming up where they slid across Sniper's heating skin, brushes of the slick tops alternating with caresses of the undersides with their suckers that kissed and pulled in a way that was as strange as it was addictive.

It'd started out innocent. Tentaspy was a tactile sort; being born and raised down here, his senses of touch and smell were keener than his sight. After they'd come to an agreement about him not biting any of Sniper's limbs off and Sniper not shooting him, naturally he was curious, so Sniper held real still and let him poke around. Legs were a fascination. What was between them, too. All Sniper said at first was "Careful wi' that."

Tentaspy could read body language, and the look he gave him said he could feel Sniper's muscles tensing up. He'd asked, "Does it 'urt?"

Sniper'd caught his breath and said, "Nah, mate. Nah."

One thing about the fella: he was a right quick learner.

Now he knew how to get sounds out of him Sniper hadn't known he was capable of. He tried to keep himself quiet as a gloved hand cupped the curve of his cheek and a tentacle ran down his chest, while another fondled his arse through his boxers. Any noise down here echoed to the rafters. His breathing was getting loud and rough, and when a pair of tentacles hooked into the waistband he wriggled around and made a little half-swallowed wanting noise, and about then he noticed that his wasn't the only breath getting frantic.

Sniper's eyes opened.

There was a figure standing a few meters away along the walkway, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as marbles.

He pointed at the two of them and stammered, "Aa- ah- ah-"

Sniper tried to sit up fast, a hard thing to do when you were in a nest of startled tentacles.

"Now listen mate," he said quickly, "this isn't what it looks like."

Scout got a full lungful of air and shrieked.


Sniper got the feeling things were about to get complicated.
>> No. 8888

Man, the number of times someone's yelled AUSSIE SQUIDFUCKER at me...it's still hurtful...
>> No. 8889

YESSSS! I cannot wait for the last bit of this.
>> No. 8892
... I'm not sure I want to write on this topic anymore. My dad told me never to follow monkeys or children and this is topping both. I can't wait for the last part of this!
>> No. 8893
if you don't write I will be sad, very very sad
>> No. 8894
Lol, just not this prompt, Blizzblizz, I can't write something equal or better than this, so I think I'll just step back and finish the other 12 prompts I'm working on. = )
>> No. 8895
haha, oh scout. look what you've gotten yourself into. wonderful
I know I'm looking forward to the ending C:
>> No. 8896
>The one thing those tentacles couldn't manage was shoelaces, though they'd once spent an entertaining day trying.
That is such an incredibly cute image.
>> No. 8909
Sorry Jaiven, I know you were working on one, I took the liberty of doing a sniper rape van thing of my own.


The RED Soldier woke up in a dim, vibrating room, trussed up on a bed and feeling like he had no muscles.

Hie first reaction was panic. He felt like he couldn't breathe. His chest was strapped down tight, and his attempt to suck in extra air made him feel dizzy. He tried to struggle, but it was as if the signals from his brain were getting completely shut down before they could travel down his nerves. He felt formless, amorphous, without outlines. “Some kind of paralytic,” he growled inside his head. Who had done this? The Commies, the Nazis – was he a test subject for new torture chemicals? He strained to remember what had happened before he'd woken up. Nothing.

The room jounced up and down. He could hear a crunching sound beneath the floor and the splatter of rain against the walls. Using his Holmesian powers of deduction, he figured out that he was inside a moving vehicle. “Sitrep,” his mind prompted. He was lying on his back next to the wall, staring up at the ceiling. He tried to look around and this induced a new wave of panic – he couldn't turn his head. He peered to his side with his peripherals. His eyes started to adjust to the light. There were two windows but the blinds were shut. Old rifles and cardboard boxes of ammunition cluttered the floor, and post-it-notes of something that looked like crosses drawn over portraits were stuck to a mirror. He also noticed, for the first time, the strong smell of urine, and started to feel a sinking feeling inside his gut.

The vehicle finally came to a halt. He heard the distant sound of a car door being opened, slammed, and the squish of footsteps. There was a clattering metallic sound, and the door became a rectangle of gray light. There was a spray of water and the silhouette of a thin, hatted man.

The door closed, engulfing the room in shadows once more.

The Sniper advanced, so close that Soldier could almost feel the man's wet clothing on his face. Sniper said nothing for awhile, just licked his lips lazily and stared down at the Soldier, savouring the moment. “Stand to, Soldier,” he finally said. Soldier tried to work his mouth, ready to go all Tourettes on the man, but all that happened was a string of saliva dribbled out the corner.

“What? No answer? I hope you aren't always this rude to your superior officers.” Soldier's eyes bulged white and bloodshot.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation, mate. It's only polite.” Sniper sarcastically doffed his hat. “You've been a tricky little blighter lately. Been avoiding all my bullets on the battlefield. That won't do, you know, especially when our Administrator has been shouting at us all day to get your head on a platter. Spy got you out of your base when you were asleep, the dirty bugger would, but I decided to save you from that snail-eater. Who knows what he would have done with ya? I had to pump you with chemicals though, because I didn't want you to panic. Dosage will be enough to keep you lying there nice and limp for another hour.”

SHIT FUCK DIRTY UN-AMERICAN HIPPIE NAZI MAGGOT. Bilbo Baggins /would/ be the one to know about these... poisons. After all, he pranced around all day in a savage wasteland full of all sorts of poisonous snakes and scorpions and spiders.

There was a pressure on Soldier's head and his helmet clattered to the floor. The grenades were lifted off Soldier and discarded. Sniper had his kukri out now, and was slowly and deliberately slicing through Soldier's uniform, still licking his lips. “Just stay nice and calm, there we go,” Sniper murmured. “I'll look after ya.” Soldier could see the lust in the eyes behind his piss-coloured glasses. His knife traveled down from Soldier's neck to crotch, slicing efficiently. He could feel the tip sting on his skin – so he still had sensation in his body, just no ability to move.

Sniper added the finishing touched with his knife, then ripped the clothes away, the fabric shredding to pieces in his hands. Soldier lay there exposed, like a turkey on a kitchen counter ready to be basted.

Soldier embarrassed and furious. The muscles in his face were frozen and unable to to express his emotions, though, and he was glad. He wasn't frightened – a good Soldier never let his enemies intimidate him. Why, he remembered the time the Nazi's had locked him up in a tiny cell and beat the hell out of him with fists, batons, belts and red hot spoons for seven long weeks. If he could survive that he could survive this now. Sniper wasn't even doing anything remotely b – Sniper suddenly snatched Soldier's cock irreverently, as if it was just a piece of meat. Soldier was screaming on the inside. Sniper's hand started pumping up and down along it's length, and it was soon plumping with blood. To his mortification, he was feeling pleasure. He tried moving again and found he could wiggle a couple of fingers on his left hand. That was interesting.

“Enjoying it aren't you?” said Sniper. Without warning, he squeezed hard, his dirty fingernails digging into the sensitive head, and there was a sharp shock of pain. Sniper's grin widened. He squeezed Soldier's balls hard, and Soldier could feel the edges of his vision darken in pain. Then the hand disappeared, but the pain still lingered. “HAVE YOU PROVED YOUR POINT YET?”he yelled inside his head. Sniper obviously agreed, because he was trying to turn the Soldier over. Soldier didn't want to think about what he was going to do next.

However Sniper was having trouble because Soldier was fastened so well to the bed. He muttered a curse under his breath and cut away the ropes. He shoved the bulkier man onto his stomach with difficulty and more curses.

Soldier can move a little more. He could wiggle his toes now, and bend his leg and arm joints. He only did it slightly so that Sniper wouldn't notice. This knowledge was the one thing he was fixated on. It was the one thing that would give him the willpower to get through this.

This position was terrifying. His face was shoved into the mattress and there was no visual on what was happening. He heard the heavy thud of a belt buckle and pair of pants falling to the floor. Soldier's apprehension disappeared, however, replaced by elation. He felt he could move completely now. Sniper had gravely miscalculated the dosage, and Soldier would punish him for it. But he lay still for now, waiting for his chance. He smiled into the mattress.

Soldier heard the sound of Sniper's breathing, felt the press of his warm skin, cold slippery hands separate his cheeks, and the point of a hard cock pressing at his hole. It was then that Soldier made his move. He got himself up in a half-second with the inexorable strength of an angry bull, and turned sharply, his elbow catching the Sniper in the face. There was an exclamation and red blossomed on the Aussie's face.

Sniper snatched up his kukri and advanced, stark nude, with a flagging erection and a look of blue murder all over his bleeding face. It would have been a funny situation to onlookers, but Soldier knew that he couldn't really bring fists to a knife fight. Sniper sprung at the larger man like a cobra, but Soldier managed to sidestep. He started to feel in his element. He was in an arena and he needed to neutralise his enemy.

The enemy was overbalanced and half-blind from the blood, and it was easy for Soldier to pin him to the wall, wrestling to gain possession of the shiv. Soldier's hand was cut, but he still managed to send the blade spinning away. It was a ground fight now, and Soldier had three black belts in various martial arts, including jiujitsu. This wiry old kangaroo probably hadn't seen the inside of a dojo or gym in his life. He struggled weakly under the Soldier's bulk.

Soldier looked down at the bloodied, bruised, sweaty man without pity. Roaring in triumph, he grabbed a fistful of the Aussie's shirt and bodily threw him onto the bed. Sniper said nothing, just stared with vacant, pain-blurred eyes.

Soldier's hand went to his cock for some reason he didn't know, and he automatically started jerking it hard. He forced it into Sniper's hole, without any lubrication, and the Aussie let out a fresh howl. “This is what you wanted, isn't it, you spineless little faggot,” Soldier said hoarsely. The Sniper's warmth was sending waves of pleasure through him.

Soldier thrust, a toothy shark-like grin on his face. With every agony-filled whimper from Sniper, it grew slightly wider. Soon, however, those whimpers were transforming into unmistakable moans of pleasure.

Soldier screamed as he came, from his diaphragm like he did when directing troops on the battlefield, almost shaking the van on its suspension system. He withdrew, ropes of sticky semen still attached to his cock. He took up some rope and started tying up Sniper's arms and legs. Sniper groaned, his erection softening. “What are you doing to me?” he said huskily – hopefully.

Soldier shoved the door open. It was still raining outside. He dumped the man onto the mud like a piece of rubbish. “What you deserve, maggot!” he growled. He found the key in Sniper's pants and drove the van back to base alone.
>> No. 8913
at the first line, I could not keep a straight face, but this
>like a turkey on a kitchen counter ready to be basted.
best analogy, ever
>> No. 8917
>>Soldier embarrassed and furious.

You accidentally a verb there.
>> No. 8919
Now we need eight more... or does Sniper get discouraged after this rousing failure?
>> No. 8920
Uh oh you are right, I certainly did
My Sniper is a sniveling little pussy. Other people's Snipers are manlier than mine. So it depends!
>> No. 8923
Wait, has the AU schoolboy!Scout been done yet?
>> No. 8926
It amuses me to imagine both Snipers trying to lure the other into his own van.
>> No. 8929
"Why don't ye come over, mate, 'n' we c'n have a nice cup o' coffee!"

"I offered ye that last week, y'piker! If we're goin' to drink coffee in anyone's van, it'll be mine!"

etc... The thought makes me lol.
>> No. 8936
cancel my bro, you now have two fics to your request's name as I just wrote another one over in /fic/. Hopefully you enjoy it too.
>> No. 8939
Is awful that I want Scout and Scoutbot smut?

It is, isn't it.
>> No. 8940
I'd like to see Spy blackmailing Engineer into cross-dressing for him. If Spy's intentions are for sexual purposes, humiliation or a little bit of both is up to the writer.
>> No. 8946
Someone please write this?
>> No. 8947
Already in the works.
>> No. 8948
pft you did a better job than I could have. Mine's still half-done and not going anywhere dammit.

>> No. 8950
You're a saint, man.
>> No. 8990
Ethnic slurs always hurt. And that one gets you thrown out of Sea World.


Do it still! I want to see your take on the prompt.


Oh, Scout. Always running and yelling at people for fucking squid before thinking of the consequences.

This turned out so friggin long. It takes a lot of work to convince a Scout to fuck a squid. It may be the wrongest thing I have ever written. Apologies to all actual Aussies for possibly mangled slang.

Scout's brain had stalled when the monster came out of the water and shut down completely when instead of splattering its brains out like a goddamn normal person Sniper started letting it feel him up. Now his mouth was running all on its own.


"Will you shut the bloody 'ell up!" Sniper hissed, waving his hands around and wincing like SCOUT was the one doing something wrong. It didn't help that he was practically naked except for boxers - seriously, Sniper, little red hearts? - and they were kind of wet from being groped by a SEA MONSTER FUCKING HELL.

It wasn't like Sniper was kind of good-looking when you hadn't seen a woman in months, or that the look of bliss on his normally controlled face made Scout not sure who to be jealous of, or that what freaked him out most of all was that he was kind of turned on. It was that Scout'd thought he was a decent guy, and all along he was selling them out to seafood.


"Nobody's gettin' killed," Sniper said, untangling himself and stepping toward Scout still trying to shush him. "Just calm down and I'll explain-"


Oh fuck.

He'd forgotten Rule No. 1-

Always keep your eye on the squidmonster.

The thing moved so fast and smooth he could barely see it, and suddenly it was behind him and he was lifted in midair with tentacles wrapping up his arms and legs, cold and slimy and like fucking tree trunks, and another slapped across his mouth. He felt his headset lifted off and heard it clatter on the ground.

"Such an excitable boy," the monster said in his ear, with a voice that sounded like Spy down to the accent. He smelled like deep water and French cologne.

Scout tried to bite a chunk out of the tentacle, but the surface was too round and smooth to get purchase. He thrashed as hard as he could. Or tried to. The tentacles didn't move an inch.

About then, it occurred to him to get scared.

He stared at Sniper, who was rubbing a hand through his hair and shaking his head. Scout tried to silently Come on, man, I'm your teammate, I'm sorry I gave you crap about going out and living with the koalas oh god please please don't feed me to your pet monster.

Sniper came closer.

"It's all roight, mate," he said gently, like he was talking to a scared wallaby or whatever the fuck he usually talked to. "'e's not a bad sort."

"I am not going to 'urt you," the monster said. "I will let you go, if you can be'ave yourself."

It didn't sound like something somebody who planned to rip you up and eat your kidneys would say.

Very, very carefully, Scout nodded.

The grip around him loosened a little, and he felt his feet set back on the ground. The tentacle covering his mouth let go slowly and stayed near.

Scout took a deep breath, keeping his eyes locked on Sniper.

As calmly as he could, he said, "Could you pretty please tell me what the fuck is going on here?"

He added, "And get this thing off me?"

He added again, "And put on some clothes?"

Scout was a tough guy. He could deal with either squidmonsters or hairy-chested Australians, but both at once was asking a little much.

"'e's not a thing, or a monstah," Sniper said, completely missing the point. For some reason, not having his hat and glasses on made him look more naked than not wearing pants.

"What the hell do you call a fuckin' octopus man, then?" Scout demanded, his voice just a little bit high and shrill.

Sniper slapped the monster on the shoulder, coming way too close to do it. "I call 'im Tentaspy."

"Tentaspy," Scout echoed weakly.

"A pleazure to meet you," the squidthing said.

"'e's a friend," said Sniper, touching the thing on a tentacle voluntarily. "I found him down 'ere a while back, an' 'e's been keepin' an eye out for us ever since. Ever wonder why the BLUs haven't been gettin' through here much lately?"

Actually, Scout had thought it was because he was just that badass.

Sniper was leaning on the damn thing's massive body, though it wasn't quite so big when it was out of the water and you could see where it stopped.

For some reason, having Sniper up in his face and looking straight and steadily at him almost made Scout more nervous than anything. It must've been because of all the times when holding still and being in a Sniper's sights meant bad news.

"'e's a person, same as anybody. 'e just has different legs is all. 'ell," and Sniper kind of smiled, "'e's less of a prick than the Spy upstairs."

It didn't help that he was practically naked. He was in pretty good shape for an old guy, though.

"Yeah, real nice," Scout said, trying to wiggle out of the monster's grip. "Now will you let me go? Hey!"

That was for the tentacle that poked him in the middle of the forehead. "Only if we can trust you not to run off and tell ze ozers."

"Okay, okay! Just getcher slimy legs off me!"

All right, so they weren't exactly slimy, but cold, wet, and slick was close enough. Whatever you called them, they felt really, really weird, and Scout wanted them off before he had to think about it anymore. Okay, maybe not so cold, either, after the shock wore off. They must have picked up some warmth from Sniper's skin oh fuck don't think about that!

To Scout's surprise, the monster actually let him go and backed off. Before he could sprint the hell out of there, Sniper grabbed his arm.

"Listen," he said, "we've gotta keep this between you and me, mate, else it's torches and pitchforks time. I don't think 'e'll respawn loik the rest of us."

Scout looked warily between Sniper's beseeching expression and the Frenchie squidthing's masked face. He got a suspicion it was trying to look harmless.

"You don't kill and eat people, do ya?" he said.

"Never," the monster said, looking surprised, like he didn't know that creepy monsters living under stuff always kill and eat people.

"You're not an alien invader?"

"Not at all."

"You don't have some kind of sinister plan? Like, you're biding your time and lurking around down here, and observing us, and stealing our DNA, and laying a whole bunch of eggs, and one day we wake up and the one place is crawlin' with little TentacleUs's?"

"Mais non," said the Tentaspy, having the balls to give him a weird look.

"You gotta stop watchin' movies what are on at two in the mornin', kid," said Sniper.

Scout ignored him. He was thinking hard.

"We-e-e-ll," he said slowly, "I guess if it isn't hurting nobody..."

"You bewdy." Sniper broke out into a smile and patted him on the shoulder. "She'll be roight. Just trust me. I wouldn't let any baddies crawl about under our base, yeah?"

"Yeah," Scout admitted.

Sniper was one of the more reliable and less crazy of everybody on the team. He must have known something about whether things were dangerous or not, or else he'd have gotten a hand bitten off while he was in the outback throwing boomerangs at dingoes.

"Go on then," Sniper said brightly, giving him a push towards the squidmonster. "Say 'ello."

Scout took a couple steps closer, because he wasn't a pussy. The top Spy-like part was watching him and staying still, while the tentacles were moving back and forth, coiling around and making shf shf sounds on the damp stone floor. Scout reached out his hand, then paused.

"Go a'ead," the squidthing said. "I won't bite."

"I wasn't thinking about that until you said it, dumbass," said Scout.

He reached out and put his hand on the base of one of the tentacles. It wasn't so bad. Smooth, and kind of soft, like touching the manta rays in the tank when he'd gone on a field trip to the aquarium as a kid, when he wasn't busy grabbing the sea slugs and waving them in the girls' faces. The monster must not have minded, since it didn't rip his head off, so he got a little bolder and stroked down the length. He had to step practically in among all the tentacles trailing on the ground to get close enough. They swished lazily around, like a cat's tail when it was getting pet.

"Dude, you feel freakin' weird," Scout said, fascinated despite himself.

"So I 'ave been told," the monster chuckled.

It wasn't so bad, really. Sort of like something out of Doom Patrol. The monster in horror movies was never that scary once you got a good look at it. Just think of it like a guy in a rubber suit with no zipper. Soon Scout was running both hands along the tentacles and feeling the undersides. When he pressed his palms against the suckers they held on for a second, like a kind of handshake. He tensed up a little when the Tentaspy started touching back, coiling a couple tentacles around his arms, but Scout figured it was just give and take.

"See?" said Sniper. "'e's a sweet'eart."

Scout looked at Sniper, who was right there next to him, and didn't even seem to notice the tentacle looping around his bare calf. Then looked again.

"Jeez, man," he groaned. "don't tell me you've had a freakin' hard-on this whole time!"

Sniper had the decency to look embarrassed. "You were kinda interrupting somethin', mate."

Aw, Christ. And Scout was doing so good at blocking that part of his brain forever. "Okay, talkin' to him, not killin' him, that I can follow. But what the hell were you lettin' it feel you up for?"

Sniper's eyes went up to the ceiling for a minute.

"Feels nice," he concluded.

It was more than Scout could take. "Screwin' octopus monsters does not feel nice, you kangaroo fruit!"

"'ow do ya know?" said Sniper. "Ya tried it?"

Scout wasn't sure if he was stuck stammering at that because it was so stupid or because he had a point.

"I zink we 'ave reached ze limits of what you can tell," the Tentaspy said. "Now I must show."

"Whoa-oh, Squidfag," Scout said. "I am not gettin' to second base with anything with gills."

Turned out he didn't have to worry. It wasn't him he was talking about.

The Tentaspy wrapped four of its tentacles around Sniper's body and picked him up like a ragdoll. Sniper, a guy who jumped when people tapped him on the shoulder, just fucking laughed. The tentacles were touching him all over, which wasn't nearly as freaky as how he was liking it. A tentacle was wrapped around his waist to hold him up and was playing with his nipple with the tip. Another was massaging his shoulders, and the other two were wound around his legs. There was that look on his face, the same one that'd made Scout jump out of hiding and holler, but now it was closer, and it was for him. The way Sniper's eyes were closed like he was concentrating and his mouth was open just a little, and how his breath was speeding up, all mashed together and activated something that Scout hadn't known existed. It rose up in his guts, strange and powerful, and what scared him worse than anything was that he wanted more.

The better a look you got at the monster, the less scary it was, right?

The muscles in the tentacle under his hand shifted. Scout realized he was gripping it very hard.

"Beautiful, isn't 'e," the Tentaspy said softly, looking right at Scout.

Scout swallowed.

"Keep doin' that," he said, throat dry. "Touch him more."

"Ah, but my limbs, they are so busy," the Tentaspy said. "Perhaps you could 'elp me undress him?"

Scout could have pointed out that he still had two hands and four tentacles, but, somehow, he didn't feel like it.

He took a couple steps forward. Sniper was hanging about a foot off the ground, putting Scout's eyes level with his chest. Seriously. Good shape for an old guy.

Sniper opened his eyes and gave Scout an encouraging nod. His voice came out low and throaty. "G'wan."

Shit. It wasn't like they were covering much anyway. Scout grabbed them and yanked them off. Some tentacles helped. They were tossed aside before Scout had a chance to think too much about-

Yep. That was another man's dick, all right.

Then there was the tip of a tentacle running underneath it, and fuck if Sniper didn't make some interesting noises.

They said don't knock it til you've tried it, right? So if you only did it once, to try, that didn't count. And the more weird and scary it was, the more Scout kind of wanted to try it, just to see if it was worth being scared of. Only pussies didn't do something just because it was scary. and maybe if he didn't, he'd always kinda wonder.

"Uh, hey. Tentaspy. Squidfag. Thing." Scout poked him where his stomach should be, and whaddya know, felt human enough. "You can, uh, kinda touch me a little. If you want."

He didn't have to look over to know that Sniper was watching.

The Tentaspy smiled.

"Like zis, mon petit?" he said, reaching down to trace his fingertip down Scout's cheek. It felt like there was something sharp under the glove.

"Or like zis?"


All of the tentacles that weren't busy with Sniper were suddenly on Scout, all over his body, delving up his shirt and winding around his legs, lifting him up into the air like he was nothing. On sheer instinct he grabbed Sniper around the shoulders, and that was a mistake, because he was real warm and firm, especially compared to the cool tentacles, and his hair was all messed up and he still had that weird, fascinated look on his face, and...

"Aw," Scout breathed. "What the fuck."

He used one hand to grab Sniper's messy hair, leaned, in and kissed him hard. He didn't really know anything about kissing guys. He kissed his share of girls, yeah, they were lined up around the block back in Jersey, but never anybody like Sniper. Lips were lips. It wasn't that different, except for the loop of tentacle Scout's chest was pressing against, and the stubble around Sniper's mouth, and the low noise he made in his throat. Scout wasn't in the habit of half-assing anything he did, so he plunged his tongue in like he meant it. Sniper's mouth didn't really taste like anything, except, you know, guy. Then Sniper started kissing back for keeps, and it got hard to think about much of anything.

Sniper gave him this loopy grin, and said, "I wasn't expectin' that."

"Too fuckin' bad, koalafag."

Scout messed his hair up some more because it was funny. Then he grabbed on to his shoulders, because the tentacles were feeling him up all over and it was suddenly hard to tell up from down.

He tossed his hat over by the wall so it wouldn't fall into the water and get lost. It was a fucking great hat. Then he might as well do the same with his shirt. He had to peel it off, since it was already pretty damp. He hadn't noticed. It was like jumping into a swimming pool that was freezing at first, but felt fine once you got used to it. His shirt made a wet smack against the wall. It was dumb to keep his pants on if his shirt was off, so he wiggled out of those, which he'd never done in midair before, so it took some focus, so it took a minute to sink in that he was getting groped by a squidSpything while clinging to Sniper and wearing nothing but Red Sox underpants.

The Tentaspy's eyes were lidded. It was incredibly weird to see somebody with their hands free be so obviously into touching someone. Him and Sniper, they were both giving Scout this look like he was something amazing they'd never seen him before. Yeah, he was pretty amazing, but Scout was used to having to shout that himself to keep people from pushing him aside and treating him like a kid, not getting this full attention.

"You are lovely to ze touch, mon petit," he purred.

"Uh, thanks?" said Scout, then noticed a pair of tentacles slipping under his underwear. "Hey, how bout you-"

One hugged his ass. The other curled delicately around his cock.

"Oh shit," Scout gasped. "Oh fucking hell."

It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It felt weird, really weird, but god he hadn't even realized how tired he was of his own hand and he did not know anything could feel like that. He clung to Sniper's shoulders just for something to hang onto, because he was human and he must have been getting the same thing, because he was making these strange little noises right into Scout's ear.

"Would you like me to stop?" said the Tentaspy, in the exact fucking same tone as Spy used when he was teasing him.

"Don't you fuckin' dare." Scout wriggled around to get out of his underwear, which was just getting in the way now. A tentacle stroked his back and gave him goosebumps, while the one around his dick undulated and squeezed, and without thinking Scout bit down on Sniper's shoulder to keep from making any embarrassing noises. Sniper's skin was warm and salty.

Sniper was panting in his ear and kissing sloppily across the side of his face. Scout was proud of himself for getting to him that much with just some teeth. He must be good at this. Or maybe it was that the end of a tentacle was sinking into Sniper's ass.

"Holy shit," Scout said, craning his head, cause damn, you don't see that every day. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"Nah, mate" Sniper said, almost whispering. His head was tilted back and his eyes were half closed. Every breath made the tentacle caught between them press against Scout's chest. Sweat stuck his hair to his forehead. "Strewth. That's good, luv."

He grabbed onto some tentacles for leverage and was moving himself back and forth. Watching the tentacle going into him was disturbing, so Scout watched his face instead. The tentacle on Scout's cock was moving in a steady, hypnotizing rhythm. Sniper was making these gasping noises, louder and louder.

"Thought you said we were sposed to- stay quiet," Scout said. His voice sounded strange to himself, low and half panting.

"Tryin'," Sniper managed. Tentacles caressed his arms, and the tip of one traced over his throat, where the adam's apple was bobbing wildly. It was crazy. He was always so quiet you forgot he was there. Scout had a sudden vision of pinning Sniper down somewhere in the base and seeing if he could make him break his silence.

"You make such magnificent noises, mon cher," the Tentaspy said. "'ow can you blame me for wanting more?"

Suddenly Sniper twisted and made a sharp, panting cry that echoed off the stone walls. Scout clapped his hand over his teammate's mouth. The last thing he needed was somebody hearing and coming down here to see...Jesus, it was hard to keep a train of thought when Sniper was making that face and goddamn moaning into his hand. What could feel that good?

Fucking curiosity.

If it wasn't a dick, it didn't count as queer.

"Hey," Scout said, before he could lose his nerve. He glanced at the squid out of the corner of his eye. "Legs. Don't leave me high and dry here."

The Tentaspy smiled slowly. With pointy teeth.

It looked like Sniper was getting some control of himself, or at least managing to muffle his moans himself. Scout let go, and immediately felt the tentacles coil around him with a will, including one traveling down the cleft of his ass.

"Ah, your 'eart is beating so fast, mon petit," the Tentaspy murmured.

Scout's fingers dug into Sniper's shoulder.

"Just relax, mate," Sniper panted, in between kissing him all over the neck. "Trust me."

And, for some reason he didn't quite know how to think about, Scout did.

"Ffffuck!" he gasped. "Jesus faglicking christ, that feels fucking weird."

It didn't hurt, though. It just felt cool, and slick, and really fucking strange. He hung onto Sniper and tried to adjust to the sensation.

"'old on, mate," Sniper said, in a low, coaxing voice, and there were warm, callused human hands on Scout's waist. "You're doin' real good."

"I'm not a fuckin' wallaby you're tryin' to feed-" Scout said, wiggling his hips around to try to get a more comfortable angle. Was something supposed to be happening now? He could see in Sniper's face it was working fine for him. Maybe Scout was doing something wrong-

"Oh god!" he yelped as something went off and made his back arch into the clasping tentacles, and even his impressive vocabulary went blank. "Oh god. Ohhh god."

He could see the tentacle working hard in and out of Sniper, and feel the one in him, and the Tentaspy was wrapping its out tentacles all around them both, like he couldn't get enough, with this fascinated look on his face making the mask arch up high above his eyes, and Sniper's breath was coming hot and harsh on his neck, and every time the thing worked in and out something in Scout's body screamed yes. He wanted, he wanted, he didn't fucking know what he wanted, except more. He pushed his body up against Sniper, and the tentacles let go of their cocks, so he thought who the fuck gives a shit anyhow and ground his hips against Sniper's, which made him let out this strangled sound that was pure fucking amazing.

Then a tentacle wrapped around both their cocks and pumped them together, and Sniper made this shiver and moan and came all over all of them. He sagged into a bunch of tentacles that caught him and held him upright, and now the tentacle working over Scout's cock was slick and hot, while the one in his ass was making him see stars. Sniper wasn't out of the game yet, he got the Tentaspy to lower him down and was kissing Scout's stomach, sending little shocks of heat through his body every time his stubble scraped against his skin. He could hear these panting whimpers and if he felt one bit less good he might've worried they were coming from him. Right now he didn't care about anything but the muscular limbs all over him, running up his legs, coiling around his arms, brushing by his lips. He took that one in his mouth and sucked hard on the tip. It curled against his tongue and he was rewarded with an intake of air from the Tentaspy and a rush of giddy satisfaction that he could give even a crazy sea monster a few surprises. Then Sniper laid a bite right under Scout's rib cage, and the Tentaspy thrust deep, and the tentacle twisted on his cock, and Scout could feel a scream clambering for his throat, so he did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed the Tentaspy by the neck and jammed his lips over his as his climax crashed over him.

When Scout could see again, and think a little as long as it was in simple sentences, he was being set down on the walkway by the wall. Sniper was next to him. Scout let his head loll onto the older man's shoulder. For a few minutes, they listened to the lapping of the water.

Finally, Scout said with sated awe, "Motherfucker."

"Yeah," said Sniper.

The pieces of Scout's brain were congealing together again. He didn't feel like rushing it.

"Guess we'd better get dressed, huh."

"Gotta be gettin' back," said Sniper, not moving. He was slumped against the wall like a sack of rangy Aussie dirty laundry. His hair was forging in all sorts of new and interesting directions.

Scout sat back and laughed. "You look ridiculous, man."

"Like you're any better," Sniper said lazily. "You look like somethin' the cat coughed up."

"Eat a dick, koalahumper." Scout got to his feet with the wall's help. Okay, that was not a place he'd ever been sore before, but he was a badass. He could deal with it. "Hey, Squidfag, where'd you throw our stuff?"

"Right 'ere." The tentacles were moving here and there, picking things up. Tentaspy presented each of them with a little pile. "There you are."

"Thanks man." Scout took his stuff, then bit back a giggle. "Dude. He folded my shirt."

"Good on 'im. Maybe he can teach ya."

Scout pulled on his pants. "Hurry up. If you get a cold you're gonna have to explain to Medic why you have sucker marks on your dick."

"I'll tell 'im I caught it from you." Sniper cracked his back and stood up. "I'm comin', I'm comin'."

The Tentaspy was watching them quietly. He'd probably never had much chance to see two people just talking before.

"Nice to meetcha, Squidface," Scout said. He probably looked like a loon, giving a goofy smile to the monster he'd been scared shitless of less than an hour ago. "Really nice. Like, crazy fuckin' nice."

"My pleazure," the Tentaspy said.

He flowed forward and took one of their hand in each of his human ones. His kissed them, first Sniper's, then Scout's.

"Au revoir, mes amis." He looked at Scout with a glint in his eye. "Mon nouvel ami."

He turned and sank soundlessly into the water. In a second, there was nothing but a ripple and, if you looked closely, just for an instant, a shadow under the shadows.

"What a faggot," Scout said fondly.

Sniper clapped him on the shoulder. He'd been friendly before, but never the real touchy sort. Scout wondered if that would change. He decided he wouldn't mind too much. "C'mon, kid. The others are gonna start wondrin' where we've gone off to."

They started up the stairs. Right before the corner, where they could hear the faint voices of the rest of the team filtering down, Scout stopped.

"Wot's the problem?" Sniper said quietly, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.

Scout was thinking.

"You know," he said, "We're gonna have to come up with a lot of really good reasons to go down there."
>> No. 8991

Oh lawd. I do believe you have given me a TentaSpy kink.

> It takes a lot of work to convince a Scout to fuck a squid.

It does indeed, but you did good! He stayed in character perfectly.
>> No. 8993
Wonderful conclusion to the story. I was giggling all through my train ride this morning.
>> No. 8995
I fucking LOVE this story. Best tentaspy threesome ever, and I was bowled over my the hot description of the logistics of tentacle sex. Great in-character dialogue too . Five stars.
>> No. 9001
Dude. Wasn't much of a tentaspy kink person, but boy did that change. I adored their friendly relationship and the way you wrote Scout's voice was seriously hilarious.

This was awesome.
>> No. 9008
> It was a fucking great hat.

Right in the middle of the porn.
And this whole fic. Pure win.
>> No. 9010
oh boy, this was quite an enjoyable end to this tale. very well done C:
>Scout had a sudden vision of pinning Sniper down somewhere in the base and seeing if he could make him break his silence.
oh god, I have such a craving for this now, haha
>> No. 9011
In my mind, that line leads to Humon's thread in /afanart/.
>> No. 9013
Oh man, this is just TOO DELIGHTFUL. I love how friendly and fun this is, and the little details--like Scout bugging girls with sea slugs when he was little-- are just perfect.

>"What a faggot," Scout said fondly.
And this is pretty much the most perfect Scout line ever.
>> No. 9018
Spy teaching Scout how to give lapdances. Scout returns the favor after the lessons.
>> No. 9020
I...think I have a TentaSpy kink now.
God. And to think I used to think them absolutely disgusting. Holy hell.

The chan does wonders to a brain. And so do you <3 Wonderfully, /wonderfully/ well done.
>> No. 9023
I might still... but /this/. This was awesome; completely in character and all around hot.
>> No. 9030
Man someone has to do some fanart of this now!
>> No. 9032
Yes. YES. YEEEEEEEES. I officially love this fic and I do think I've developed a TentaSpy fetish myself now. Stupid sexy TentaSpy. I really like the consensual versions. Also, Scout. Best lines ever. I was going back and forth from getting all hot and bothered to laughing my ass off. Wonderfully done fic.

Oh my gosh. This made me grin deviously from ear to ear. Especially when I saw it was Soldier who was to be the victim. Haw, poor Snipes got beaten quite soundly. I lol'd. I feel mean now.

THIS. So my OTP so yeah, do want. Badly. >>8947 Aaaaaaaaaand, cue Joygasm!
>> No. 9035
Aw, you all are making me blush.

Scout's got priorities. Sex or not, the hat's important.

If anybody asks, you can say, "Tentacle porn." Then, you have the seat all to yourself!

I was hoping someone might get inspired by that. You know Scout would do it just to be annoying.


Every class has that kid, and Scout is totally that kid.


I wasn't sure about it either, at first. Now I've got a bizarre headcanon that Tentaspy is a perfect gentleman.


Glad you like!
In the parlance of our times, DO IT FAGGOT.

My brain would explode with awesome.
>> No. 9039
I was pleasantly surprised :V
>> No. 9040

Requester!anon here to say OH MY GIDDY AUNT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. Best present to come back to ever. Just, the way you characterized everything, the interactions, the little observations, and the sex guhhhhh this is everything I wanted and more. Thank you so much, Andrew, you have made me incredibly happy in ways I cannot begin to describe.

(....This is not to say I will not also welcome Scrunchyfic, though.)
>> No. 9044

>Sort of like something out of Doom Patrol.
Everything about this fic was so beautiful that I wept.
>> No. 9047
Oh hey we're autosaging.
>> No. 9049
Glad you like! The prompt was the perfect sort of sweetly deranged that my brain can't resist.

I was hoping somebody would catch that. I was trying to think of a comic old enough that Scout would have read it and weird enough to have friendly squidmonsters, and, well, when you think weird...
>> No. 9143
File 126358156943.jpg - (82.43KB , 647x946 , DurhamMemo_REMAKE_Fixed.jpg )
Something inspired by the attached image, with scout and someone who is not spy or sniper.
>> No. 9170
Almost done with this. Might have two for it, but will not be posting anything until another of these threads is made. = /
>> No. 9309
sorry, I don't mean to bump this but is this ever going to be finished? It's so good it'd be a shame not to
>> No. 9312
You can't bump, this thread is auto saging. Tantarded is probably waiting for the next Kink thread to be made.
>> No. 9326
I've actually been sitting on my ass and slamming my face against the keyboard in hopes that anything will fall out. Sorry, anon! There's one last part, but I'm not sure when it'll happen!
>> No. 9332
I know I am excite for this. don't feel like you have to rush it though, these things take time C:
>> No. 9333
I'm sure it'll be amazing when it does happen = )
>> No. 10079
File 126604692942.gif - (265.36KB , 400x400 , dqhirc.gif )
I HAVE A REQUEST! please make a medic and you, i dont care about any at all kinks or things added.

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