AN:/ So this took way longer than it should have, but you all know how it is. I hope this meets expectations. >>25 >>40 For None-Mouse: Sniper x Reader, [Dirty Little Secret] P2 by Harlequin The familiar hum of the respawn in your ears was somewhat comforting. The ten seconds felt like an eternity, as they usually did, but ten seconds managed to be just enough to swallow your embarrassment and prepare to go into battle once more. You expected to wake up in the starting room, but to your surprise, you woke up in the infirmary instead. People only spawned here if the match had ended or ended shortly after their death, so Medic could perform post-battle examinations on everyone for any injuries the respawn had missed. You groaned, throwing your head back into the pillow on the gurney you laid on. That was just your luck, and in the pit of your stomach you felt ashamed that you died under such ridiculous circumstances. You knew it was inexcusable; you probably owed your team an apology for messing around on the battlefield since they had relied on you and Sniper so heavily during the match. But thinking of the humiliating incident with Sniper send your stomach reeling with shame once more, and curling on your side on the gurney, you desperately wished to disappear. Yet, as luck would continue to have it, you heard the door on the far side of the room open with an ancient creak. You closed your eyes and pretended to sleep, your breath catching in your throat. Footsteps clicked along the linoleum floors towards your resting place, disturbing the sepulchral silence of the infirmary. Again your heartbeat raced, and you willed the intruder to go away. Your skin tingled as you felt someone's breath by your ear-- "No 'un holds their breath when they sleep, mate." An Australian accent quipped. Sniper was wise enough to move his head out of the way when you bolted upwards on your gurney making to scramble away to the exit, for lack of a better course of action. Yet your plans were foiled when he snagged your arm before your feet managed to touch the floor. You found yourself firmly pushed back down onto the gurney, Sniper's surprisingly strong grip unshakable. You submitted, going momentarily limp on the gurney, training your eyes on the kukri that hung on his belt rather than his face. "What." You muttered, the word inaudibly tumbling from your mouth, unsure of what else to say. "Why was yer scope on me." He asked, his tone agonizingly impossible to decipher and equally blunt. It suddenly became difficult to look anywhere other than Sniper's kukri. You shrugged, the movement nearly imperceptible. "My eyes're up here." He said after a long pause. You clenched your jaw, looking away from him completely and instead opting to rest your eyes on a desk on the opposite corner of the room. "Hey," He said again, his fingers propping themselves on top of your head, turning your face towards his. "What's with ya?" "Can you just go, please?" You asked, an edge of desperation in your tone, praying that Sniper would cut his losses and leave you to pick up the last pieces of your dignity. "No." He dead panned, sitting down by your feet. You exhaled in exasperation, seeing that he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. "Not 'til ya tell me what's eatin' at ya." He paused for a moment, and added-- "And why're scope was on me, and not the other team." "... I was looking at you... okay?" You muttered. Sniper's eyes were obscured behind his aviators, but his eyebrows raised curiously. "What?" He asked. His calm and collected demeanor did not falter, but his tone was dubious as he looked at you over his glasses. "Y-yeah..." You mumbled, unwilling to say it again. Sniper shifted closer, but his movement went unnoticed by you. "You scared the shit outta me, y'know that?" You remained silent, but Sniper moved closer still. "Thought you were turnin' on me. But seeing how fast you dropped yer rifle when I caught ya..." You finally noticed Sniper's proximity with a start, glancing up at his eyes in surprise. "Figured there was somethin' more that you were lookin' at." He leaned in, and for the quickest of moments you thought he was going to kiss you. You smelled his musk and sweat, and you felt deliriously intoxicated from his scent. But instead of bridging the gap between the two of you, he continued talking. "And then ya ran, and I had to run a bullet through that bastard Spy's head as payback for killin' ya before I could catch up." "What were you lookin' at, ______?" He whispered, his breath washing over you. You knew full well that he already knew what. And knowing that, you took it upon yourself to close the space between you and Sniper as you unabashedly fell against him, your lips mashing against his. He responded with equal enthusiasm, his rough hands dipping under the hem of your shirt to massage your waist as you knocked off his hat running your fingers through his hair. Making a noise of disappointment, you made to reach for the hat again, but Sniper muttered through the kiss-- "Jussht leave it"-- and added, "S'all g'nna c'me off anyway." Things were moving fast, Sniper's tongue was tangling with your own as he fiddled with your shirt, but you kept rejecting his attempts to rid you or himself of any clothing. Finally, after leaving a trail of wet, open mouth kisses along your neck, and another botched attempt to take off any clothing, he parted from you. "D'you wanna do this or not?" He asked, frustrated at the mixed signals you were giving. You nodded indignantly, but casted your eyes downward at the gurney as you inwardly debated whether or not to tell him of your little... quirk. "I wanna do it with the clothes on." You professed, again anxious to meet his eyes. "Why? You afraid someone's gonna walk in on us?" You shook your head. "No... I, uh... like it like that." It was the best and most vague way to say it that wouldn't leave you hopelessly embarrassed. The silence from Sniper was shaking your confidence to its core, and you had nearly half a mind to push him off and spend the remainder of the day in your room forgetting any of this ever happened. 'Oh god, he must think I'm such a weirdo, oh god, fuck this, I want to get out of here, please let me leave pleaseletmeleave...' "... You like it like that, huh?" He finally said, a very wide smirk on his face. His eyes glimmered wickedly behind his aviators, and you remained in his lap for the moment, stunned by his response so far and waiting to see if he would say anything further. "Y'know... I like doing it a certain way too. So I'll tell ya what. We can do it your way, but only if we can do it my way too." "What's your way...?" You asked, cocking an eyebrow, a dim glint of apprehension flashing across your eyes. Sniper's smirk grew. "Don't worry 'bout it. I'll show you when we get around to it." You were about to voice that you weren't sure if you were entirely on board with the ambiguity, but any objections you could possibly have immediately fled from your mind as Sniper's addictive mouth once more found its way onto yours. This time, he let your clothes and his clothes be, but left his hat strewn to the side (continuing with it on would have been a tad difficult otherwise). "Reckon things'll be faster now that stripping's out of the equation." He teased, his teeth once again grazing down your neck and lightly nipping at your collarbone. You only dazedly nodded in vague agreement as you climbed further onto his lap, leveraging your weight just so that Sniper found himself falling backwards onto the gurney with you now sitting on top. Despite his slight surprise at the sudden change in positions, Sniper accommodated you and shifted his entire body onto the gurney so his lower half wasn't dangling onto the floor, which made for much more accessible grinding. Fears of judgement averted, you lost yourself in Sniper's uniformed body, your hips rolling and crushing against his as your hands caressed his shirt, his vest, the emblem on his sleeve. Feeling bolder, you snagged his hat and donned it upon your head, the hat sliding farther back on your head as you took the liberty of trailing your tongue along Sniper's neck, faintly moaning at the feeling of the collar of his shirt brushing against your jaw. You paused for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as you hear the faint approach of footsteps. "Sniper...! Someone--!" You whispered worriedly to him, eyes wide with panic at the prospect of being caught in such a compromising position. Sniper shushed you, propping himself up on his elbows as he listened. The footsteps paused at the entrance of the infirmary, but continued onward, rushing away to the main center of the fortress (and the break room, where everyone was most like coalescing for post-battle repose). You exhaled in relief, Sniper chuckling to himself and allowing his back to fall against the gurney once more, his hand rubbing at his eyes. "Fuck, that was close." He laughed, idly rubbing the skin along your hip that was left exposed by the riding up of your shirt. You hummed in agreement, your eyes still trained on the door. Sniper notices. "What's wrong?" "Wasn't Medic supposed to come and check in by now? For after-match check ups and stuff?" Sniper paused momentarily, his eyes following yours at the slightly ajar entrance door-- a door that wasn't slightly ajar before. "Yeah..." Sniper muttered, thinking to himself. Decisively, he gently pushes you off of him and briskly makes his way over to the door, taking a moment to poke his head out into the corridor, darting back in after looking both ways and firmly shutting the door. He turns one of the rusting locks on the door and returns to you. "There. Coast all clear, problem solved." He said, grinning playfully as he took dominance again and pushed you down onto your back. You gasped in surprise as Sniper suddenly slid off the gurney and began taking your legs with him, moving you so you were perpendicular to the gurney and your bottom half was suspended around Sniper's waist. Sniper, now standing, gave you a suggestive look as he took the opportunity to take advantage of the position, grinding long and slow against your lower half. You gasped, back arching off the sheets of the infirmary bed at the friction and pressure, your hips pushing forwards to meet his. "Dunno about you," He said huskily, "...but you've got me about ready to cop a root." His hands found the front of your pants, and had already began undoing buttons as he asked "You wanna go?" "Yes..." You said breathlessly, leaning forward to struggle with Sniper's belt buckle. He chuckled, undoing the belt with a deft flick of his fingers and hastily shoving his pants down so they pooled around his ankles. You had half a mind to complain about that, you wanted to feel all of the uniform, but looking up and seeing Sniper hot and bothered, loosening the top buttons of his shirt, his aviators balancing precariously on the bridge of his flushed nose and exposing his hungry icy eyes, by god... your train of thought was lost in the compelling and near hypnotic haze of arousal. Impatiently you slipped your pants up and over your hips, down to around your mid-thighs-- just enough to be accessible. But what Sniper saw next made him laugh. "Nothing there, eh? You never struck me as the commando type." He grinned wolfishly, teasing you more. One of his hands stroked the space in between the crux of your thighs, and you felt your face flush even more from both his verbal teasing and his... oh... The heat that snapped in your stomach and caressed your abdomen with increasing intensity continued to grow, and you felt your lower half throbbing with arousal to the point it was nearly painful. Foreplay be damned-- you had the object of your longtime desires in front of you ready to go, in his uniform no less, and you had just about enough of the delay. Not a single normal thought was in your mind as you became consumed in the moment, urging Sniper to hurry as you flung open pockets and grappled around sheets looking for a condom. Sniper chuckled breathlessly, producing a condom from the recesses of one of his many pockets and sliding it on himself, groaning quietly at his own touch. You panted in anticipation, tightening your legs around him, encouraging him to come closer. Biting your lip excitedly, you watched as Sniper spat into his hand and hastily rubbed between your thighs, slicking the sensitive flesh and stretching around you were thoroughly ready. "Come on--" You muttered through your flustered state, pushing your hips up to meet his hand and desperate for any touch. He more than complied, pushing in steadily and inciting unabashedly loud moans from you both. He delved right into his own realm of pleasure, slowly pulling out only to roughly thrust back in, and doing so at a pace that had you writhing and clenching and physically begging for more. He rocked you back and forth on the gurney with each thrust, his hat falling from your head and laying forgotten elsewhere on the floor. You didn't notice his hands slowly creeping up to your shoulders, planting themselves next to your neck. "I-I... wanna try doing it... m-my way now-- oh, fuck--" He muttered, finishing his sentence with a shaky exhale as he tried to keep himself from spiriting away into his climax too quickly. Absorbed in your own pleasure, you nodded, hardly knowing or caring what he was about to do. But you should have, for you found your eyes snapping open in fright as you felt fingers around your neck, applying pressure in spots that began to constrict your breathing. You began thrashing, silently mouthing at Sniper to stop, what was he doing, he'd kill you-- and for a brief moment a thought flashes in your head: what if that's what he's into? What if he likes fucking dead people? You didn't have time to delve into a spiral of regret at your agreement to concede to his fetish because Sniper was whispering words of encouragement in your ear, explaining that he wasn't going to hurt you, oh no, this will make you feel out of this world. Just trust him, he begs, he's so close, and he knows your close too, you'll cum like you never did before... So many senses and emotions overwhelmed you-- slight panic at the fact that you were steadily losing your ability to breathe (you were able to still breathe somewhat, but only on a very minute level), irritation at Sniper for springing this on you at the last moment, pleasure because Sniper's thrusting hadn't slowed down in the slightest, and dismay that he might just be right-- the heat that tingled up and down your spine and spidered down your legs intensified, and you hoarsely moaned with what little oxygen was left in your lungs as your senses nearly overloaded with pleasure despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Suddenly the pressure on your throat released, and oxygen flooded into you as you took greedy gulps of air. But the relief was short lived, however, as Sniper hungrily covered your mouth with his, one hand finding its way to your throat again while the other harshly rubbed and stroked your lower region. The air deprivation made your nerves go haywire, the stagnating, ballooning feeling of emptiness in your chest translating to more hotness, more acute pleasure down below. The intensity was too much, and despite the unusual scenario, you came, fast and hard. Sniper seemed to notice the moment right about when you were ready to orgasm, and withdrew his hand from your throat right after the first wave of your climax hit you, leaving you free to moan and wail and gasp into his mouth where he smothered the noises and devoured them hungrily. Lost in ecstasy, your nails raked over Sniper's exposed skin, fingers delving below his shirt and feeling whatever you could, legs trembling but still limited in their movement because of the pants that was still clad around your thighs. In the midst of your climax Sniper found himself cumming too-- the unbearable way you clenched and squeezed around him and the dominant feeling of your neck beneath his fingers overwhelming him as well. He growls into the bruising kiss, moaning loudly as he pushed himself in as far as he could go, milking himself for all he was worth as completion claimed him. You found yourself moaning at the lewd sensation of his balls grinding roughly against you as he rode out his orgasm, lost in his own pleasure but not lost enough to completely break contact with you. His forehead, dewy with sweat, rested against yours as his hot breath ghosted over your nose, your lips, and your chin. One final moan, one last roll of his hips, and finally Sniper too was finished. With time, his breathing slowed to match your relaxed tempo as the two of you came down from your high. As you returned to your senses, you felt a wave of exhaustion hit you-- first, an entire day of fighting on the battlefield, and now, sex with Sniper. Between the two activities you were about ready to fall asleep. Now also spent, Sniper withdrew himself from you and slipped off the condom, tossing it into a waist basket by the gurney. After pulling up and fixing his pants, he seems to contemplate something as his gaze travels from the gurney you laid on to the door. "I'm sorry to leave ya mate," He says finally, reaching a conclusion. "But I think it's better we don't draw anymore attention to ourselves than we already have." Despite your exhaustion, you sighed softly in disappointment. All of that and he wouldn't even stick around for awhile? "I know I pulled some shady stuff on ya... but next time, how about my place instead of Medic's infirmary?" Fixing your pants back around your hips, you recalled Sniper's own startling 'quirk' that he sprung on you a little while ago. "No more surprises?" You asked, still not taking kindly to the whole aspect of 'surprise quirks' even if things turned out okay in the end. "I'll tell ya first." Sniper rectified, picking his wide brimmed hat up off of the floor. After a moment, you smiled, a tired but content smile that told Sniper you were willing to take the offer. Your eyes closed, finally succumbing to sleep, and Sniper was on his way out of the infirmary, unlocking the door and walking away like nothing ever happened... but not before placing his hat on your sleeping head first. EPILOGUE: Medic sat in the break room with one hand covering his eyes, and another hand clutching his third bottle of beer. His comrade patted him on the shoulder, pushing another bottle towards the doctor as the heavy weapons specialist comforted his friend the only way he knew how. "I do not know what you saw in infirmary, Docktor, but do not worry. Is all gone now." Medic only groaned, taking another hasty swig from his bottle, trying to purge the scandalous image of his teammates from his mind. "I am never doing post match examinations ever again." END