#jermer10

Scout: - he's obsessed with your chest - makes sure to clarify that he'd love you no matter what size your tits are - but jesus they were hot - he's not the most adept to foreplay, but will often play with them before and during intimacy - squeezing them and roughly toying with your nipples to try and get you in the mood - will always beg to cum on your chest, even in the most unconventional times (often when you have quickies in semi public spaces)

Soldier: - could care less about the size of your chest, he's just happy he gets to touch you at all - another man who doesn't care for foreplay, so no special attention to your boobs unfortunately - though you will catch him giving them a longing gaze when he's itching for a fuck - the kind of man to casually squeeze your chest, no sexual intent he's just admiring what's his

Demoman: - THE foreplay king - he teases you, gently biting your nipples between his teeth - sucking on one bud and rolling the other between his fingers - he won't stop until you're writhing and begging for him - has no preference for chest size, but he is admittedly a tit guy - adores it when you give him a tit job, loves it even more when he gets to watch your chest bounce while you ride him

Heavy: - a man who prefers women of the larger variety in general - so your breasts intrigue him, from the moment you first initiate sex he's almost rushing to get you out of your top - worships your chest, peppering it with kisses before lapping at your nipples until you're bruised - will casually squeeze your breasts the way someone would squeeze their partner's ass - "hehe.. do you like them?" "da." his face is red hot

Engineer: - another one who doesn't care about the size of your chest - he only cares about your pleasure - teases you for hours, poking and prodding - insists that you don't wear a bra around the house, after all you should feel comfortable around him! - he soon realizes he can't stop staring at the way your tits bounce as you walk - or how stiff your nipples look in your much too tight tank top - this might be the easiest way to pry him away from his workshop

Medic: - he often has to see your bare chest when you come off the battlefield, half dead and in need of several surgeries - or when you need to come in for a breast exam - and despite being your partner, he can't help but flush at the sight of you, so exposed for him - usually a thigh man, he crumbles when it comes to large chests - on a more sadistic note, he often fantasizes about licking the wounds that may litter your chest after a particularly gory fight - he's a little bit gross but sweet in his own way!

Sniper: - a large breast man through and through - he could play with your tits for hours and hours, in a sexual and non-sexual way - if he could lay in bed sucking your tits, leaving bruises all over the supple flesh, he totally would - loves the way they bounce, the way they sit on your chest, the soft fleshy feeling of holding them in his hands - loves it when you wear outfits that show off your cleavage - loves it even more when he knows he's going to be the one to rip that outfit off later

Osomatsu: At first, he was sure it was just a casual lean, but then he heard the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing. His eyes widened, and a slight grin crept onto his face. "You're seriously asleep on me?" he whispered, amused by the situation. Osomatsu was torn between feeling lucky and absolutely panicking about what to do next. Not wanting to ruin the moment, he carefully adjusted his arm and leaned back against the couch. It felt strangely… nice, being your pillow. He couldn't help but smirk to himself. 'Guess I’m not too bad to nap on.' As much as he wanted to make a joke or poke fun at you later, he found himself just letting you rest, his heart racing a bit as the reality sank in. For once, Oso didn’t mind sitting still for a while.

Karamatsu: The moment your head fell onto his shoulder, Karamatsu froze. His eyes widened in surprise, heart beating fast. A light gasp escaped his lips, "How beautiful…" Kara gently adjusted his position, trying to maintain his cool "Karamatsu" facade, despite the flushed look on his face. He kept glancing down at you, marveling at how peaceful you looked. His mind raced with romantic fantasies of this moment. He imagined a sunset, music swelling in the background as he held you close. This was the kind of thing he’d only dreamed of! But in reality, Kara simply remained silent, letting you sleep while mentally preparing some (ridiculous) poetic lines to say to you later. “Yes, this is destiny,” he whispered dramatically, eyes shining with pride.

Choromatsu: Choro's entire body stiffened when he realized you had fallen asleep on him. He swallowed hard, heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at your peacefully resting face. 'What do I do? What do I do?!' His mind raced. Should he wake you up? No, that would be rude! But what if you found it weird later? Was it weird? Was he weird?! Panic set in quickly, but he didn’t dare move. Instead, he sat there, barely breathing, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and the longer you stayed asleep, the more flustered he became. He wouldn’t move until you woke up, even if he was dying of embarrassment.

Ichimatsu: Ichimatsu blinked in surprise when he felt the weight of your head resting on his shoulder. His first instinct was to shrug you off, but when he turned and saw you had actually fallen asleep, he stopped. You looked so peaceful, so unbothered, that he couldn’t bring himself to disturb you. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh and stayed still, his face neutral as always. A part of him was confused. Why would you fall asleep on him of all people? But another part - one he wasn’t quite used to - felt a warmth spread through his chest. He liked the quiet moment, the closeness without having to say a word.

Jyushimatsu: The second your head hit Jyushi’s shoulder, his eyes lit up with excitement. He held back a little bounce of joy, though his body practically buzzed with energy. You were asleep on him! He had to be doing something right! "Whoa!" he whispered to himself, grinning from ear to ear. He stared down at you, his heart racing with glee. He wanted to jump up and celebrate, but that might wake you… and you looked so comfortable. Instead, Jyushimatsu sat there, vibrating with happiness, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at you every few seconds, amazed that this was really happening. Every time you shifted slightly, he stilled himself, determined not to mess up this perfect moment.

Scout: - The second the door closes, trapping the two of you inside, Scout freaks out - “Oh man, oh man, we’re stuck in here! What’re we supposed to do?” - "We'll just have to wait for them to come and get us." You grimace - He can’t stop blushing the moment he realizes just how close you are, he’s trying to act cool, but his face is beet red, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes - He keeps shifting, trying to get comfortable without, you know, touching you too much, but it’s a tiny closet, so he’s got no choice but to be practically on top of you - Every time he accidentally bumps into you, he mutters, “Sorry, sorry,” like it’s the end of the world - To cover up how flustered he is, Scout starts talking. A lot. “This closet’s so freakin’ small, huh? Like, who even makes closets this tiny? I mean, what’re people even supposed to keep in here? Brooms? Ha! Weird, right?” - You ease up at the realization that he's just as awkward about this as you are - After a few minutes, he tries to act like he’s totally cool with the situation - He’ll awkwardly drape an arm around you, trying to make it seem casual, but his heartbeat is way too fast, and he can’t stop glancing at you to see if you’re uncomfortable. “We’re cool, right? Yeah, totally cool.” - He is obviously, not cool - Eventually, the awkwardness turns into something a little more comfortable - He’ll laugh at how ridiculous the situation is, maybe even teasing, “Bet ya didn’t expect to spend the day stuck in a closet with me, huh?”

Soldier: - When the door slams shut, Soldier isn’t fazed at first - He just stands there, arms crossed, as if being stuck in a tiny closet with you is totally normal - “This is nothing. I’ve been in tighter spaces during training!” he declares with full confidence - But once you’re both standing way too close for comfort, even Soldier starts to feel the awkwardness - You’re practically chest-to-chest, and he can’t ignore it anymore. “Ah… this is… strategically inconvenient,” he mutters, his bravado slipping a little - Soldier tries to stay as still as possible, his body rigid as he avoids making too much contact - He won’t admit it, but he’s extremely uncomfortable being in such close quarters with you—not because he doesn’t like it, but because he likes it too much - After a while, Soldier starts to relax (as much as he can). If the two of you are sitting or huddling together, he’ll instinctively wrap an arm around you in a protective way, as if guarding you from the cramped space itself - He won’t acknowledge it, though - just gives a gruff, “Stay still, it’s more efficient.” - Soldier keeps trying to frame the situation like a tactical operation. “We must conserve space. Stay close. No sudden movements,” he’ll say, his voice serious, but inside, he’s silently praying you don’t notice how his heart is pounding from being so close to you - As time passes, Soldier’s stiff demeanor softens, and he might even say something like, “You are… not a bad person to be stuck with in combat—or a closet.” It’s the closest thing to a compliment he’ll give, but it’s sincere

Spy always wore a wedding ring, had photos of a woman and a boy adorning the walls and bedside tables of his room, had a woman's perfume on the dresser which smelt so strong in the sheets you could vomit. You hated it - you felt ashamed to share a bed with a married man. A man you thought you could love, who was already being loved by someone else. Someone he was supposed to be committed to.

Of course, none of that was real. It's a set. A perfectly constructed lie in order to not let anyone come too close. He was utterly alone. He had left his wife years before coming out to New Mexico. He knew his estranged son was on his team, but neither of them were going to start that conversation, especially when one was in denial and the other had more important things to concern himself with.

Those 'important things' being you.

In the beginning he upheld the lie to keep you at arms length. He had no interest in letting you become a part of his life, you were a potential fuck and that was that. And then he was forced to spend an overnight mission burying bodies with you. Maybe it was something about the way the moonlight caressed your face, maybe it was your laugh, or maybe it was the way you struggled when he pushed your head into the side of the company van as he tore your clothes from your body, shoving his cock inside you as you cried and begged him not to kill you.

After that, the lie was merely another tactic to keep you in line. After all, who likes a homewrecker?

He spent years training you like a dog, showing you the right and wrong ways to be his pet. When you were good, he showered you with gifts and attention. There were times where you couldn't even fathom that Spy was an evil person, where he seemed to love you more than anything in the world. Then you'd fuck up, and the punishments would come down hard.

This time was no different.

You knew that talking to certain mercs was off limits, but waving was never discussed. Clearly, the same rules applied.

"Well, at least Mundy won't think that you're a rude bitch! At least you made yourself look pleasant to him! Waving at him like some common fucking street whore! You were practically begging for it. You're fucking disgusting." Each word stung worse than the last, it didn't help that you were trapped in his god forsaken room again, all of the eyes in the photos seemed to stare through you.

"I'm....I'm..." tears ran down your reddened cheeks. His cock hardened, pressing uncomfortably against the fabric of his boxers. "I'm, I'm." Spy taunted mercilessly. You mindlessly rubbed your thighs together at the humiliation. "Take off your shirt." This was a merciful outcome - having sex with Spy, no matter how unwilling you felt, was a kinder fate than receiving a beating. You could have smiled, you weren't quite sure if you already were. The top slid off easily, falling to the floor beneath you. The air stung, but you knew better than to cover yourself from him. His eyes raked your chest, picking apart every imperfection and admiring every asset in seconds.

"You know you're my favourite pet, right? I don't like treating you this way. But if you act like a stupid bitch, I'll treat you like a stupid bitch." You nodded wearily, gaze falling towards the floor. "Sit down and take my cock out." It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot; taking a seat on the plushy edge of the bed and hooking your index fingers underneath the band of his boxer shorts and pulling down.

His cock sprang out, bobbing just above your nose, precum smeared across his tip and began to bead, twitching as he ran his calloused fingers through your hair. "Open your mouth, mon chiot." Your lips parted hesitantly, firm hands gripping the sides of your head guided your mouth to his erection. A groan escaped his lips as you placed a gentle kiss on the tip, dragging a curious tongue along the slit. He wanted to use your throat as a fleshlight. "Putain, j'ai tellement besoin de toi." You could barely understand, but from the way he tightened is grasp on your hair, and the flushed look on his face, you were doing something right.

You licked a stripe up the side of his length, earning another shudder from the man above you, then peppering kisses from the base to the tip of his cock. "Merde- stop- just-" In an instance you feel his erection ramming down your throat and tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Every muscle in your body was holding back the urge to vomit on him. A small part of you didn't care anymore. He'd probably enjoy it, the sick fuck.

He could feel your throat tightening around his cock, the warm fleshy inside clinging to him as you tried your hardest not to gag. It was cute. You were cute. Writhing beneath him uncomfortably, half naked, wearing shorts he had bought you. A shirt he had picked for you. Underwear that he wanted nothing more than to rip off. Skin he wanted to make bruise and bleed under his touch. Spy couldn't warn you before shooting ropes of cum down your throat, he didn't even realize he had came until you pulled away, coughing violently, gagging and crying.

"Stand up." You obliged, still in tears. You felt his hold hands pull your shorts down, and gently guide your hips back into a seated position on the bed behind you. Some sick part of you enjoyed this. Reveled in it. Craved it. The gentle disguise he would bait you with right before he went in for the kill. "Come on mon cher, look at me."

Spy: Spy's study was dimly lit, the soft glow of a cigarette balanced between his fingers casting long shadows across his face. He stood with his back to you, eyes trained on the battlefield outside the window, calculating as always. You approached quietly, knowing full well he heard every footstep, but allowing him to maintain his facade of mystery. Without a word, you reached for the silk tie hanging loosely around his neck. Spy froze momentarily, caught off-guard by the sudden boldness of your touch. Slowly, you tugged at the tie, gently but with purpose. His eyes flickered with intrigue as you pulled him toward you.

He allowed it, curious. His smirk grew wider as he let himself be drawn in, close enough that the faint smell of his expensive cologne filled your senses. The distance between your lips disappeared in a heartbeat, and you pressed a firm, heated kiss to his mouth. For a moment, he stood still, surprised that you had taken control. His gloved hand came up to cup the back of your neck, his lips moving against yours with a slow, practiced elegance. When you finally pulled back, your grip still tight on his tie, Spy gave a soft chuckle.

"You play a dangerous game, mon amour," he purred, his voice velvety smooth, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "But I do so enjoy it when you surprise me."

Medic: The lab was filled with the usual clinks and beeps of equipment, Medic fully absorbed in whatever chaotic experiment he was conducting. His glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose, and his tie hung askew, as if he hadn’t bothered to adjust it for hours. You approached him from behind, watching with amusement as he muttered something in German, completely immersed in his work. “Doctooorr,” you called, your voice soft but with a hint of playfulness. He didn’t even glance up, waving his hand dismissively. “One moment, just one moment…”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer. He was so absorbed in his notes that he didn’t notice when you reached for his tie, fingers curling around the fabric. You gave it a sharp tug, pulling him toward you. He nearly dropped his clipboard, his eyes widening in shock as he stumbled slightly. “Vhat—" he stammered, but before he could protest, your lips crashed against his, silencing him with a passionate kiss. The initial surprise quickly faded as Medic’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer. His glasses nearly slipped off his face, but he didn’t seem to care, too caught up in the kiss.

Scout turns into an awkward, nervous wreck whenever you’re around

His usual cocky, confident attitude melts away, and he’s left stammering and tripping over his words

He’ll try to make a smooth entrance, but his voice cracks halfway through his first sentence, causing him to blush and look away, pretending it never happened (you pretend not to notice, for his sake)

He’s desperately trying to impress you but ends up just looking goofy - and it flusters him even more when he realizes it

Every time you compliment him or even just smile at him, his face turns bright red

He’ll stutter out a “Thanks!” but then immediately look down or scratch the back of his neck

He tries to cover it up by talking faster, but his voice betrays him, “Man, it’s hot in here, right?” "We're outside?"

Scout loves to brag, but when he’s around you, he tends to overshoot

“Yeah, I can totally outrun anyone! One time, I ran a whole marathon in, like, ten minutes.” Realizing how ridiculous that sounds, he desperately tries to backtrack. “I mean… uh, maybe not a marathon… but I’m fast! You know that, right?”

Whenever you’re nearby but not looking at him, Scout can’t help but sneak glances your way

He’s got this lovesick puppy-dog look, but the moment you catch him, he panics and pretends he was looking at something else—suddenly finding the ceiling or his shoes fascinating

He’ll crack a joke, only for it to come out wrong, and then he’ll get even more flustered when you laugh - not because the joke was funny, but because of how cute he looks when he’s embarrassed

When you’re talking, Scout is hanging on every word, but you can tell he’s not really listening—he’s just mesmerized by your voice and your presence

If you stand too close to him or brush against him, he completely loses it

His heart races, and he starts babbling incoherently, trying to act cool but only managing to make himself look more nervous

This used to make you worry, but now you're used to it - you know he likes you, you're waiting for him to make the first move

He practices what to say in front of a mirror but always ends up making a mess of things when he’s actually with you

Heavy: - Heavy’s love for you comes in the form of an overwhelming need to protect you at all costs - no one is allowed near you unless they pass his strict approval - Even if you don’t see him, Heavy always knows where you are and what you’re doing - He's is always close, and his imposing size makes it impossible to escape his presence - He’s convinced that only he can keep you safe from the dangers of the world, including his own teammates - While Heavy doesn’t resort to violence with you, he isn’t above using his presence and tone to scare anyone he perceives as a threat to your safety or well-being - He believes it’s his duty to take care of all your needs, from food to shelter, ensuring you never have to rely on anyone but him - He won’t outright forbid you from doing things, but he’ll make you feel like you should always stay close to him - “You are safest with Heavy,” he’ll say in that deep, soothing voice, slowly making you doubt your own independence

Demoman: The battlefield is a mess of explosion and chaos. Demo’s got that wild grin plastered on his face as he tosses grenade after grenade - he’s in his element, laughter bubbling up between the sounds of battle. But in his enthusiasm, he doesn’t notice the enemy bomb rolling straight for him, its timer ticking down far too quickly. Before he can react, you dive in front of him, shield raised. The explosion rocks the ground, but the shield holds, keeping both of you safe. Without a second thought, you pull him close, his face pressing into your chest as you shield him from any further debris.

Demoman blinks up at you, dazed and disoriented. “By the gods... ye just saved me arse!” He’s half laughing, half in shock, his arms coming up to cling to you, despite himself. “Didn’t know I’d need savin’ today, but I ain’t complainin’!” He looks up at you with a cheeky grin and flushed cheeks, throwing a dramatic arm around your waist. “Ach, me hero! How can I ever repay ye for rescuing poor ol' me?” he teases, though there’s a genuine gleam of gratitude in his eyes. You smirk down at him, hand still firmly on his back. "Just stay alive, Dem."

Engineer: Engineer wipes the sweat off his brow, wrench in hand as he hurries to fix his sentry. The fight’s getting heavier, bullets flying, but his focus is on his machinery. He doesn’t even notice the red sniper dot that’s settled on his chest until it’s too late. But just as the shot rings out, you’re there. You lunge in front of him, shield raised, and the bullet ricochets harmlessly off its surface. You pull him close, pressing him into your side as you block any further shots.

Engineer blinks, wide-eyed, and his wrench slips from his grasp. “Well, I’ll be damned…” His face flushes red as he realizes what just happened—he’s in your arms, safe, and you just saved his hide. “Didn’t expect to be the one gettin’ rescued today,” he mutters, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. He’s clearly flustered, trying to play it off cool. “Guess I owe you one, huh?”

You glance down at him with a smirk, enjoying the rare sight of the usually composed Engineer looking like the damsel in distress. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.” He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Ain’t often I get to be on this end of things. Much obliged, darlin’.” With a wink, you pull him back onto his feet, though he sticks close for a few moments longer, still rattled—and more than a little impressed.

Sniper: Sniper’s crouched in his usual perch, scope trained on the battlefield, picking off targets with precision. But even he can’t see everything, and when a stray enemy flanks him, gunfire erupts in his direction, too fast for him to react. Just before the bullets tear through him, you dive in, shield up. The bullets bounce off with a metallic clang, you grab Sniper’s collar, yanking him down and pulling him close to your chest.

He lets out a soft grunt of surprise, completely caught off guard as you press him into you, shielding him from further danger. Sniper, the lone wolf, the sharpshooter, now cradled in your arms like some helpless civilian. “What in the…?” He stares up at you, wide-eyed, his hat knocked askew. You smirk down at him, teasingly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” For a long moment, he’s just quiet, still processing the fact that you—not him—were the one doing the saving. Slowly, a small, lopsided grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, his cheeks flushing red. “Not used to being on this side of things.”