TF2-Oneshots

Hello! You can call me H. I’ve mostly done rp and fic writing, so this is my first time taking requests. Now, onto the rules!

1) Submission

Please submit your requests through the ask box! You can submit ship requests or x reader. Please be clear in your request so that I can write as accurately as possible. You’re free to submit as many as you like! As long as it’s a reasonable amount (no more than 3+ a day), you can go wild.

2) Ship Limitations

I will not write anything involving canonically related characters whatsoever. No ocs, AUs, nothing. Anything with them will be deleted. The same goes for Scout and Miss Pauling. I hc her as a lesbian, so I will not write her with men. Additionally, I do not ship Engineer with Sniper or Medic. Nothing against those who do, its just not for me. All other ships are free game unless otherwise stated.

3) Content

Obviously, sfw content is allowed! Feel free to include your hcs in your requests too. This blog welcomes most, but not all kinks/fetishes. Anything regarding noncon, animals, inflation, or incest is not allowed. Any requests I’m not comfortable writing will be deleted. WARNING: Gore, nsfw, and such will be present on this blog.

4) Writing

Please be patient with me! There are times when I can type out 20 requests, and times when I can barely get to one. I have irl stuff going on, so just hang tight! All requests will be written in order of submission and tagged accordingly. Some will be longer than others due to the content obviously.

5) Tagging

I will try to tag posts as accurately as possible. If I mistag something, don’t hesitate to tell me! Gore, nsfw, and violence will be tagged for those who wish to block it.

6) Pairings

Threesomes, foursomes, and more are allowed! As long as everyone is 18+ and not related, you can request it!

Heavy are the thighs of our thickest doctors

Warnings: nsfw

Rating: Explicit

The honeymoon phase has long been regarded as the time when a couple are head over heels for one another. Constant adoration, endless gifts, and showers of compliments raining from the sky. A phase that most say ends after the first month. In Heavy’s case, he’s nearly a year into his relationship and still admiring Medic like no other.

So much so that upon discovering a certain fetish, Heavy couldn’t stop thinking about using it with Medic. Day and night, it festered in his brain before he could no longer hold it in. He has to at least ask. What harm could there be in that?

“Doktor, Heavy wants you to sit on my face.” Medic stares wide eyed at the man, hair still damp from the shower as he was just about to climb into bed. He adjusts his glasses and sets down the bedsheets he previously pulled back.

“Say that again.” Curse the look of curiosity on Medic’s face. The Russian sighs and meets the man’s gray eyes. Maybe he didn’t hear him. Maybe he wants to be absolutely sure of the request before turning it down.

“Please sit on Heavy’s face.”

“One more time, Misha.” He’s enjoying it, that much Heavy can tell. The giant grumbles, face now a pink hue at the thought of making the request a third time. His pride says not to, but he can’t resist the look in Medic’s eyes. Not when he aches to feel the doctor atop him.

“Doktor, please, sit on Heavy’s face. Until breathing stops. Heavy need this.” The man leans in, taking ahold of the German’s hand to emphasize his desperation. Medic plants a kiss on Heavy’s nose and chuckles. Pajama pants are tossed to the floor along with a pair of briefs.

“Well, how can I say no to that? Lay down, Misha.” To say Medic wasn’t overjoyed in an understatement. Anyone else would claim he weighs too much to sit on their face. Dating a man not only eager to offer him a seat, but also one who can handle it, sends a jolt of pride through the doctor.

When Medic lowers himself onto Heavy’s face, a rush of heat comes to his face. That beautiful nose is pressed against his scrotum, and the gasp Heavy lets out tickles the sensitive skin down below. Medic hitches his breath, lip quivering as he tries to control himself.

“M-Misha~.” His legs are trembling. Heavy kisses along the taint, face completely smothered with no complaint. Medic covers his mouth and shuts his legs only to be stopped by the man’s skull. For a brief moment, he’s convinced that Heavy will shove him away to breathe. That doubt is washed away when hands clasp his thighs and push them even harder together.

“Ja!” If it were humanly possible, hearts would fill Medic’s eyes. He lays his hands atop the Russian’s, caressing them to encourage the man. The kisses below turn into licks that send Medic’s head flying back. God, he loves this man!

A man with taste!

Warnings: nsfw

Rating: Explicit

Medic sits beside Heavy in the common room with some old movie playing on the tv. Neither of them were paying attention to it. How could they when Medic’s gloved fist grips Heavy’s shaft? The doctor’s face is blank as he sips the drink he set on the coffee table earlier. He fixes his glasses, still staring at the TV even when it switches to commercial.

“Hn—“ Heavy bites his lip, suppressing the sound that tried to come out. He can’t let anyone hear him. Just in the other room, a handful of coworkers were playing a game of poker. Their idle chatter muffled by his racing heart. Its fine. He just has to be quiet. He can do that. Heavy always stays quiet.

“Did you say something, Misha?” Medic looks over to the struggling man. Just then, his thumb brushes Heavy’s tip to gather the droplet of cum building on it. It takes everything in the Russian not to keel over and moan. He despises those innocent eyes peering at him over circular glasses.

“N-No, Doktor.” Just getting the words out is torture. Now, Medic dips lower to fondle his scrotum. His pesky fingers run over the seam before Heavy feels his hand deliver a firm grasp. The couch rips from the immense grip Heavy has on the cushion.

“Oh, dear. Hopefully, Herr Engineer knows carpentry. Teehee!” Medic only continues his groping. He feels along the man’s vein, tracing it with a finger across the plump shaft. He watches as Heavy turns to look at him, face pleading in silence. Much to his dismay, Medic shakes his head.

“We finish when I say so. Now, be a good boy and change the channel. There’s an old Western I love starting soon.” Heavy has no choice but to nod. He needs to cum, but Medic is refusing to let him. Despite their difference in size, Heavy is helpless against the doctor. No matter what, Medic makes the rules. Medic makes him cum. That’s something he can’t argue unless Heavy wants to be locked in a chastity cage.

Big men my beloved

Warnings: none!

Rating: General

It was the first day of work for the newly hired Medic. He straightens his coat, hair fixed into place before he steps through the doors of his new office. He starts by organizing his filing cabinet. While he hasn’t met anyone else on the team, the Administrator gave him brief overviews of everyone.

Each teammate is placed in alphabetical order until Medic reaches Heavy. He pauses to admire the photo of the large man. Despite it only being a headshot, Medic can tell that he’s a burly man. Before he can get ahead of himself, the doors swing open.

“You are Doktor?” Comes a deep voice that shakes Medic to the core. The German turns, and its a sight to behold. Heavy, the man he was just ogling, is in the medical room! Right now! Medic stammers, papers slipping out of his hands and onto the tile floor.

“I-I apologize. Ja, I—I’m Medic.” A nervous laugh as he kneels to pick up Heavy’s paperwork. He tries to ignore the massive man before him, focused on putting the pages in their correct order. God, he’s weak to men like Heavy!

The doctor stands, nervously smiling, but it likely looks deranged. Still, Heavy nods and takes a seat on the operating table. He looks to the German, silent as he gathers his thoughts.

“Many doktors say Heavy is too heavy. These doktors do not practice anymore. Heavy broke them.” Years of his weight being mocked and belittled by so called medical professionals has left the Russian with a bitter attitude towards doctors. Every ailment had the same diagnosis: fat. Heavy’s weight was always the issue.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that! Men your size are no issue for me! Aheh, I-I mean, I don’t see weight.” No, even that sounds wrong. Medic bites his lip, trying to find the right way of saying that men like Heavy are his favorite.

Tickling is so cute🥺

Warnings: none!

Rating: General

It all started with a brush to the side. Heavy had reached around Medic for a sweater when he accidentally touched right along his ribs. The doctor jolted, back straightened with a yelp. That’s all it took for Heavy to realize that his beloved boyfriend was ticklish. Such information couldn’t be left alone. He needed to indulge in the newly discovered aspect of Medic.

Nightfall came, and the team bid their goodnights. The German lifted his bedsheets, slipping in next to Heavy. Right as he situated himself in bed, a massive hand grazed fingers along his side. Medic jolts once more, legs raising to his chest in defense.

“Misha! Stop!” A cackle. The giant leaned in with both hands now combing the man’s body. Legs kick away the sheets before Medic reaches out to return fire. He aims for every bit of Misha he can reach, tickling him despite his predicament. Heavy emits a booming laughter that joins his cackle.

“Doctor—Doctor is ticklish!” Says the Russian who is struggling to keep himself protected. Medic climbs out of bed to make distance between them, hands raised in defense. The pair look one another in the eyes, daring each other to engage. As the seconds pass, they lower their guard ever so slightly.

“Misha, no more tickling. Can I trust you?” Is that even a question? Heavy wants to play coy, but Medic won’t stop until every inch of him is tickled. Hell, he might even try tickling his insides! Reluctantly, Heavy’s hands lower to the bed.

“I give. Doctor may rest.” With a smile, Medic returns to his spot and places a kiss upon Heavy’s cheek. The two wrap each other in their arms, bodies pressed for warm as Medic turns off the lamp on their nightstand. However, despite their truce, Medic feels a finger ghost over his side.

I will never deny old man yaoi

Warning: nsfw, edging

Rating: Explicit

Medic huffs as he lays against Heavy’s chest. His head is tilted to the cieling, sweat dripping down his forehead and back in cold droplets. He’s completely nude with only a leather harness framing his breasts. His legs are spread, toes curling with every drag of Heavy’s hand on his cock.

“M-Misha, you’re evil.” Its a breathy whine as the Russian chuckles. His massive hand makes a slow descent down the warm shaft before stilling. Another whine from Medic as hips wiggle. He pushes his glasses higher onto his nose before going back to gripping Heavy by the thigh.

“Heavy give doctor attention. Is not good enough?” Right, Medic had pouted over Heavy’s focus on his machine gun. He spends hours wiping down the hunk of metal, carefully disassembling each part to inspect it for repairs. Even when Medic approached him, nude and needy, the man continued his cleaning.

What if Medic treated his medigun the same? Ignoring every beck and call from his lover to tweak a piece of machinery. Turning away from a desperate Misha, rejecting him oh so coldly. At least, that’s how Medic feels. Knowing Heavy, the man would simply shrug and be on his merry way. Oh, it infuriates him!

“You know what—nng…I mean.” Medic looks back at the man before gasping. That pesky hand slid back to his tip. Those far and few strokes bring him a step closer to the edge before sending him tumbling backwards. The doctor shifts again, struggling to get even an ounce more of pleasure. Just enough to push him over!

“Doctor must learn patience.” Medic will show him patience. He’ll get back at Heavy. He’ll tie him to the bed, legs apart and mouth gagged. Medic will make him the handsomest cock warmer in all of Teufort. He might even stay there all day if he feels like it.

“Heavy, you won’t like my revenge.” Another stroke. Medic squeezes those beautiful thighs and grunts. His balls ache, begging to release their seed. Despite the torture, Medic loves every second. His Misha knows how to treat him right. No one else has the strength to keep him from flipping their positions.

basically across the scoutverse please

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!

Warnings: none!

Rating: General

Engineer wipes sweat from his forehead as he twists a final screw into place. With a grunt, he steps back from his latest invention to do a final inspection. Everything seemed in order. The bolts and welded metals hold strong, and the numbers on the adjacent screen were reading normal. Its an advanced teleporter, one meant to jump entire cities. Hell, states even if he keeps working!

Right as Engineer reaches for his test subject, an apple, explosions can be heard. He turns to the door, eyes widening behind his goggles as a screaming Scout is shot through the doors. The young man is launched straight into the wobbly plasma of the teleporter. Bits of metal and concrete land against the machine, altering its original trajectory.

“Scout—!” Before he can stop it, the machine goes offline with a tremble and screech from the computer. Engineer panics and rapidly tries to find out where Scout landed, but its no use. He can’t do anything! Alarms and sirens sound from the massive teleporter then, with a weak groan, it powers down.

“Show yourself, maggot!” Soldier marches into the destroyed workshop, glancing around as if nothing happened. His search is cut short by an angry Engineer grabbing him by the throat with a metal hand.

“Soldier, what the hell did you just do?” Hardhat crooked from his anger, venom seeps from Engineer’s mouth. His entire project, gone! Ripped from his hands before he could properly test it!

“I was playing grenade tag and elected Scout as my partner! That pansy didn’t even bring grenades!” He chuckles despite Engineer throwing him to the ground. The Texan runs back to the machine and starts his repairs. Hopefully, Scout’s alive somewhere.

Where Scout ends up is his room. Well, sorta his room. He crashed onto the bed, which does have his favorite comforter, and landed on the floor. Still, something isn’t right. When did he buy a poster for the band French Brigade? Is that even a real band? Why are there a bunch of discount perfumes and loose tampons on his vanity? When did he even get a vanity??

As Scout turns to run out the door, he sees a woman standing in the doorway. A woman who looks almost identical to him! The only difference between them being their shoe size and a baseball bracelet on her wrist. Immediately, they both start screaming.

“Get the hell out of my room!” She charges in, ready to beat the oddly handsome stranger into a pulp. Both Scouts reach for their bats, hitting each other on the head at the same time. The act knocks both of them out, and they collapse into an unconscious pile on the floor.

Scout awaken with a slap across the face and ice water dumped over his head. He jerks upright, eyes rapidly blinking to focus on the curious face before him. Its a woman with smile lines to her chin that looks identical to Medic. She steps away to reveal another woman wearing overalls.

“Evening, dearie.” Aside from being British, there’s little difference between her and Scout’s Engineer. They’re a similar height and build, but her prosthetic is on her left leg. The same goes for the Medic. Her graying hair is styled the same, but instead of a dove, a parakeet is on her shoulder.

“I bet you’re wondering how you wound up here. Does this machine look familiar, love?” She gestures to a massive teleporter exactly like the one Engineer was building. Scout groans and nods slowly. His head is still foggy from being knocked out, but everything is slowly coming back.

“I think so. I got thrown into one because Solider played—“

“Rocket tag!” At that shout, a rocket bursts through the doors and lands behind Scout. The explosion sends him straight through the teleporter for a second time. Scout lets out a scream as he gets sent to yet another dimension.

Now, Scout is plummeting through the sky. He screams again, eyes squeezed shut in preparation for the deadly impact. So, this is how he dies? Far away from gis friends and family, no way of ever getting back. Hopefully, he splatters somewhere dignified.

“Falling flan!” A flash of light, and Scout lands on a squishy, sweet smelling surface. It’s a giant flan! He stands, slipping a bit before finding his balance. As he looks around, a figure lands behind him. Its him…sorta. This Scout is wearing one of those magical girl costumes Pyro’s shows always have.

A giant red ribbon is tied around his torso, and the layered dress is white with red and pink accents. His curling black hair holds pink bows that match the delicate gloves on his hands and the ankle boots on his feet. The entire outfit is the girliest thing Scout has ever seen!

“That was close! How’d you get so high in the sky, stranger?” Before Scout can even utter a word, his body turns transparent. Like the crackling static of TV, he flickers before disappearing entirely. It leaves the heroic Scout confused as he slides off of the dessert to meet with the rest of his team.

Every time Scout lands, he’s met with another version of himself. Girl versions, ugly versions, that one Scout in his 40s. He even met an emo version! Strange as it was, it does make him consider buying a pair of skinny jeans. The constant flipping between dimensions seems endless until he lands face first in Engineer’s workshop.

“There you are, boy! He’s alive, y’all!” Its Engineer! The one Scout knows! Medic helps him stand, brushing the dust and remnants of flan off of his face. God, it feels good to be home!

“What did you see in there?” Medic asks as Heavy wheels a chair over to them. Scout takes his seat, head throbbing and eyes adjusting once again. He takes a glass of water offered and guzzles it before sighing.

“Dudes, you’re not gonna believe this!”

Warning: nsfw

Rating: Explicit

Soldier is thrown onto the plush bed Scout was laying in moments ago. Said young man is still blabbering about how incredible and utterly attractive he is. He somehow managed to steer the conversation to having several martial arts trophies despite being no higher than an orange belt. Zhanna simply grabs him by the throat and throws him out like the annoying chihuahua he is.

She turns back to the better American, lingerie hiked as he swallows the last bite of bear. Zhanna climbs into bed and straddles Soldier. Hands lay on his chest while eyes roam his body. His soft stomach and hairy chest are an alluring sight. Her romance novels always spoke of abs and lean bodies, but Zhanna wants a man meaty like her. Someone who can withstand her strength.

Warm hands caress her thighs and waist. It was…odd being touched this way. She read about this sort of attention in books Misha brought for the family. Not intentionally, of course. He selected them based on their summaries and a brief overview of the first chapter. They didn’t have a TV due to the distance from the nearest town, so all she had was books. Even so, they filled Zhanna’s head with fantasies she longed to fulfill.

“Hop up on my face, son!” Right, she has to be prepared. The Russian takes her seat, breath hitching from the facial hair brushing her intimates. Her lingerie obscures the man’s face, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he goes right to business. Zhanna throws her head back to hiss and moan. A foreign sensation invades her. Already, her folds twitch. For such a strong woman, she’s weak to the littlest pleasures.

Her breath is shaky as a tongue invades her. Soldier’s eyes are obscured by both his helmet and her clothing. She wonders what would happen if she removed the helmet. Would he make eye contact? Shove it back on his head and continue? Zhanna isn’t sure, so she ignores it for now. It makes him look cute in an odd way.

There’s a twist in her stomach. A tight knot that wants to snap apart inside Zhanna. She knows this sensation, but to feel it this quickly? Even on good nights, it took the woman a fair amount of time before she reached this part. Her eyes start to close, and she welcomes whatever is to come. It ends up being a splash of release right into the man’s mouth. His loud slurping and eager licks cause a throb in Zhanna’s heart.

“Now is time for more.” She’s a bit out of breath, but Zhanna steadies her breathing. As her body moves further down on Soldier, she slides against his shaft with her nether region. God, is it girthy. Zhanna hopes that all men are like this. Then again, this American is quiet and takes orders well. She might stick with him for a bit.

“Ready, maggot!” Soldier gives a salute and grins. Its oddly cute on his strong face. Zhanna takes ahold of the man, and, with baited breath, sinks onto him. The motion is one she never could have dreamed of. It was…it was indescribable! Its a hot stretch that leaves her twitching once again. Yes, she’s used her fingers before, but that was her own ministrations. This is entirely foreign, and it makes Zhanna crave more.

She pins Soldier to the bed, grinning when he grunts from the sudden pressure. Using every ounce of strength in her hips, the woman slams herself down. The bed creaks and wobbles as it fights to stay standing. The sheets fall to the floor in a rumpled mess. Like a wild bear, Zhanna snarls and scrunches her nose.

What other joys have been locked away from her? There have to be other meats than bear. Foods that will make her cry with joy. What about clothes? Zhanna is eager to own the mythical “skinny jeans” her brother mentioned Americans wearing. Does the man beneath her have a pair she can borrow?

So caught up in her fantasy what lies beyond ice and snow, Zhanna doesn’t realize that her body is unwinding. Her hips are weary, and her breath is a wild panting. She looks down at her bedmate as he grunts and huffs with every smack of skin to his front. His helmet slipped back to reveal a blue eye ogling her breasts. She’s absolutely flattered.

In a final slam that leaves her body shaking, Zhanna releases on the man’s shaft. Her eyes reach the ceiling, pupils blown wide before she collapses backwards with a groan. Soldier’s cock slips out of her in a heap of limp wetness. What an incredible sensation. If sex is like this every time, then Zhanna will do anything to have it as much as possible.

scout and medic watch the doves splash in the water occasionally while medic tells scout about how he got each duck.

That’s adorable 🥺

Warnings: none!

Rating: General

A bucket of warm water is poured into a custom birdbath made of stone. Said water is the filtered kind from the fridge. Tap is too harsh on the feathers, as Medic would say. Several rubber duckies, half the size of Scout’s thumb, are placed into the water. Each one unique with either a cute design or an outfit. Scout then removes his bandages, tucking the rolled fabric into his pockets.

“Here come the birdies! Archimedes, no slapping.” Medic warns his eldest bird as a small flock arrive to the bath. Thankfully, the dove keeps his wings to himself as they dip their feet into the water. Scout chuckles, carefully making a pool of water with his hands and going under Socrates’ wings. Lord knows he needs an extra hand in that spot.

Medic joins in, carefully working the dried blood out of their white feathers. The doves not being cradled take a moment to play with the ducks. Tiny beaks push and toss the rubber playmates while feathers ruffle in the water. Scout laughs, watching a tiger patterned duck be thrown out of the bath entirely.

“Cleopatra! We do not throw our toys.” A chide from her father that she doesn’t like. Cleo ruffles, turning away from the man when he puts it back into the bath.

“Where’d you even get that?” Scout picks up the tiger duck to admire it. Black stripes contrast the orange body and white stomach. For a tiny toy, it was definitely detailed. Now, Scout takes the time to look over all of the ducks. A puppy, a witch, and a doctor float alongside the doves. Scout looks to his boyfriend and asks how he came to have such an arrangement.

“I’m glad you asked! I got Dr. Quack when I graduated medical school. It was my nickname actually, teehee!” Medic giggles at the fond memory of his college days. They were so long ago, yet he clearly recalls the strange looks his colleagues gave when he squealed at the reproductive section of the lecture. Always a go-to subject for him.

“The witch was when I got chased out of my hometown for trying to reanimate my favorite singer. Its tradition to leave one at the doorstep as warning.” The poor thing just kept screaming until he whacked it over the head with a piece of wood. In hindsight, she was known for her vocal range. Medic just thought she would be happy to have come back! Instead, he got terrified screeches that alerted the Bürgermeister, who proceeded to arrange a pitchfork wielding mob.

“The puppy I’ve had since I was boy. I won him in a raffle at a dog show.” Money well spent in his opinion. Little Ludwig proudly marched to claim his prize, winning ticket in hand. The duck came with paw shaped chocolate as well, which he promptly ate as they announced the best in show. Such a fun day with his parents.

“Awesome stories, babe.” Scout places his hands on Medic’s shoulders so they can kiss. Just as their lips are about to meet, a loud splash and coo sounds. Lo and behold, Archimedes was wing slapping his siblings! He deeply coos, feathers puffed with his wing landing on an angry Cleopatra.

“Archimedes! Time out!” Medic takes his naughty birdie out of the bath while Scout comforts Cleo. She curls up in his hands, fighting to recover from her brother’s violence. In reality, she’s completely fine. Her feathers are straight and wings unscathed. Ever the dramatic dove.

When Medic returns, he resumes their interrupted kiss. The rest of the doves are left to air dry along the rafters while Archimedes sits in the time out cage. He puffs himself, cooing with anger every time Medic walks by.

Leave that to me!

Warnings: past death mention

Rating: General

Zhanna sets several boxes in a living room, careful to bring each one to their corresponding rooms. Dishes to the kitchen, clothes to the bedroom, and so forth until she reaches the last box in her pile. This one contains a single photo album comprised of what little photos her mother has of their family. There were more years ago before they were taken away. The memory is still vivid as if it happened yesterday.

“Zhanna, is my matryoshka in there?” Nadia enters the room and sets her purse down on the couch Heavy assembled the other day. He bought this home for his dearest mother now that she lives in the States. All that’s left is to furnish it to her liking, and she can enjoy her retirement.

“Nyet, mama. Just photos.” The book is set on the floor and opened. None of Zhanna’s childhood pictures survived. In fact, the earliest photo is long after they had escaped the Gulag. From the pictures, Yana appears to be in her teens. As she flips through the collection, she lets out a sigh.

“I cannot remember papa. Not anymore.” Its there, she knows it, but its blurry. She can’t make out the features or even recall what color his eyes were. Brown? Green? What did his hair look like? Its a frustrating turmoil that leaves Zhanna gripping the fabric of her pants.

“My poor child, your father was a kind man. He wanted nothing more than to give us the world.” Just like Misha. He takes after the man both in love and strength. Still, Zhanna knows so little. What did he eat for breakfast? How did he sing? She closes the album and looks to Nadia.

“Will you tell me about him?” There’s so much to know, but they have plenty of time. Nadia sits Zhanna on the sofa and brings two cups of tea. She takes a sip and joins her daughter, eyes full of reminiscence.

“He loved art. When we dated, he painted a portrait of my cat.” A giggle. It was odd how often he wanted to visit and play with the feline before Nadia received her gift. She adored the painting for years, hanging it in their bedroom. She misses it with all her heart. If only she could see it one more time.

“Your papa would cradle Bronislava to sleep every night. Even if she refused to close her eyes.” He wanted nothing more than to do anything he could for his youngest. Nadia recalls waking up in the late hours to find them both asleep on the couch. Bronislava laid on his chest with a protective arm securing her. One time, he even climbed into her crib and didn’t move until the next day!

“I hope to see him again, mama. Someday.” Whenever it may be, Zhanna will be overjoyed to have him in her arms. To know his eye color, to hear his voice. She envies Misha’s memories of papa, but she knows that in the end, their family will be whole again. Even if it takes time.

“You will, my dear, and he will adore the woman you have become.” They finish their teas, empty cups set in the kitchen sink to be washed. Zhanna places the photo album in a closet before moving to finish the rest of the unpacking. One day, papa will hold her again.

Weed time

Warning: weed mention

Rating: Teen and up

Two joints are pulled out from a drawer in Sniper’s van. The Aussie pulls a lighter out from his shirt pocket, sticking one joint into his mouth to light it. The second is handed to Scout who sits in the van’s booth. Joints pressed together, Sniper lights the American’s before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“This stuff gonna make us act crazy?” Scout inhales, letting it sit in his lungs before blowing out the smoke. He taps a finger against the table, impatient to see what the affects will be. Will they pass out? Try to make cookies at 2am? Have an existential crisis that leaves them freaking out on the floor?

“Probably. Pauling said she bought a fridge just to make a castle from the box.” The poor woman shamefully returned her impulse purchase with a fumbled excuse of it being too big for the kitchen. Initially, it was a great idea to bring her G&G game to life, except for the fact that she already had a brand new fridge from another weed induced splurge. That box was turned into a boat.

“Good thing I wrote down Spy’s credit card info.” The two laugh, tapping their joints together like wine glasses before taking long inhales. Sniper slides into the booth, welcoming his yank of a lover into his arm. Scout rests against Sniper’s chest as they wait for the chemicals to seep into their brains.

Twenty minutes go by. If you asked Scout if he was high right now, he would deny it. It would take him multiple tries and several tangents to achieve, but he would deny it. This doesn’t change the fact that he’s standing in front of Sniper’s dream catcher and staring into it.

“Bloody hell are you doing?” Sniper is laid out on the floor, joint smoked with its remains in an ashtray along with his regular cigarette butts. His vest was discarded from how warm and clammy it made him feel. He really hates being warm and clammy. Speaking of clams, he’s kinda in the mood for seafood right about now.

“I’m watching your dreams, dude. Crazy stuff in here.” Scout stares at the criss crossing white thread. He slowly blinks, mesmerized by whatever it is he’s imagining. His eyes are bright red and hooded, fighting to stay open. Scout doesn’t wanna pass out with a high this good.

“What?” It comes out as a stifled laugh. Sniper rolls to his side, chuckling at the thought of Scout watching all of his weird dreams. The fish people one, the one where he lived with a wallaby, and many more. Sniper stands up only to immediately fall over and cackle. He tripped on his own hat! Its only now that he realizes that he wasn’t wearing the damn thing.

“You good, babe?” Scout snorts, watching his boyfriend roll around and laugh. The strange behavior ends up causing his own laughing fit that beings him to his knees. He crawls to Sniper, falling to the floor as the couple continue their ceaseless giggling. They manage a few short breaths of silence only for their laughter to immediately resume.

“Stop! Stop, dude, I’m—I’m gonna pee!” Scout clutches his stomach and kicks his legs. At that comment, Sniper holds out one of his jars. This only makes his lover laugh harder and smack his hand against the floor. Scout practically screams into the carpet as his body shakes.

The only thing that stops their laughing fit is hunger. Scout takes out a cooler they had stashed earlier knowing how the munchies can be. Two wrapped hoagies are pulled from the ice along with soda and an iced coffee. Sniper sets several cartons of cookies, muffins, and cupcakes onto the kitchen table. Not even waiting for Scout, he takes a massive bite into a chocolate chip muffin.

“Gimme one.” Scout reaches for a muffin, but Sniper pushes them away. He continues eating the treat, ignoring how badly he needs a drink to wash it down. Scout holds up his iced coffee, taunting him with the bitter brew. He reaches out, but the American tries to snag a muffin! Oh, no. Sniper bought them, so Sniper gets to eat them.

“You’re so freaking greedy when you’re high!” Scout is offended by the man blocking him from the food. Are they not dating? What kind of selfish man refuses to feed his beloved boyfriend? Ignore the fact that Scout has two hoagies in his hand. He’s going to starve unless he gets one of those cupcakes.

After a bit of pouting and bargaining, Sniper relents and earns his coffee. He chugs half the bottle before taking another fat bite of food. This time into his deli sandwich. Scout somehow fits two cupcakes, his hoagie, and an entire can of soda into his lean body. Of course, he continues eating. He’s just so hungry!

When their meal is no more than crumbs on plates, the couple decide to climb to their bed. Its as cramped as ever, but it beats the floor. At least now they have a new mattress pad to soften the hard surface. The old one had worn down over the years, but the stubborn Sniper refused to let go of it until Scout complained enough times about back aches.

As they cuddle one another, they share soft kisses from their foreheads to their chins. Scout traces the lines in Sniper’s hand with his thumb while the man happily explained their meaning. While not one to believe in most mysticism, it was still interesting. Hell, if he can believe in dream catchers and aliens, what’s the harm in thinking a few lines in his palm have meaning?

Scout on the other hand was growing tired. Too tired to keep his eyes open. The hand rubbing his back was no help either. Although he tried to fall asleep, he just couldn’t. His mouth kept moving despite his attempts to still it, and his eyes just didn’t want to stay closed. Quite the conundrum for the poor man.

Mercs WORST bedroom habits:

More sniperscout!! Gonna make this one t4t

Warnings: nsfw

Rating: Explicit

Laundry day is supposed to be Sniper’s relaxing day. The day where he drinks beer in a lawn chair wearing old boxers with his tits out while his clothes hang to dry. So, you can imagine his surprise, and anger, when he opens the washer to find it empty. The van is far too small for one, so Sniper uses the laundry room in the base. Alright, maybe someone moved his pile to a dryer for him. He opens each one, but all he finds is a bright pink lab coat and a red thong atop it.

“Bloody mongrels.” Sniper turns to leave only to see Scout leaning against the doorway. Said American is wearing an unbuttoned shirt and jungle shorts. Sniper’s shirt and jungle shorts. A sliver of torso is visible, teasing the Aussie. Those tiny shorts show off toned legs that seem to never end. Sniper would take the sexy display seriously if it weren’t for Scout’s ridiculous grin.

“Hey, doll face.” Dear god, not that nickname. Sniper crosses his arms, curious by the display. Whatever it is Scout has planned, it involves Sniper not having any clothes.

“You snatched my laundry, love?” He’s gotta admit, they look damn good on him. They’re roughly the same size, so they fit Scout like a glove. Scout pushes off the doorframe and awkwardly saunters to his boyfriend. Its half a strut, half a catwalk that makes Scout sway unevenly.

“No idea what you’re talking about, dude. You can borrow my clothes if you want,” Chests pressed together, Scout bites his lip. Hands slide up Sniper’s bare arms before sliding all the way back down to his hands. Their fingers lace together, and Scout trails his lips along Sniper’s jaw.

“But you gotta take them from me.” A challenge, is it? Scout should know better. Sniper lifts the American, grinning when legs wrap around his waist. Scout is carried back to his room where a giant basket of Sniper’s laundry is revealed. Every single article down to his bloody socks.

“Greedy little ankle-biter. You want me to walk around naked?” Before Scout can answer, his shirt is pulled open to expose his bare chest. Sniper dives in to lick and suck along the warm skin. His tongue follows a pink scar up to Scout’s nipple before taking it in his mouth.

“Heck yeah. You’re so freaking hot.” He gropes Sniper’s breast, pulling the nipple until the man grunts. He’s moments from taking the small teat into his mouth when Scout finds himself flipped onto his stomach. Hands grab his ankles, and an embarrassing yelp escapes when he’s dragged to the edge of the bed. When he tries to question what just happened, he gets a feral look from his boyfriend.

Sniper pulls down those tiny shorts, exposing the hot folds and thick bush beneath. He spits onto the cunt, massaging the saliva against the bright red mess. Scout digs his heels into his Tom Jones themed rug. The slight squirming only taunts the Aussie more. Two thumbs spread soaked folds, and from the t-dick up, Sniper delivers a wet lick.

“Ah~!” Its not his first time receiving oral, but the rough treatment is making Scout ridiculously sensitive. Legs kick only to be pinned down. Sniper dives into Scout, tongue wriggling while his poor American cries out in pleasure. The tip of hi tongue flicks his hard bud before trailing back between the labias.

Head pressed to the mattress, Scout whines into the bedsheets. He wants to writhe and shake, but Sniper has him trapped. All he can do is pull on the comforter while his sexy woodsman devours him. Damnit, he’s gonna cum already! That winding pressure in his gut grows tighter. It wants to break free, but he won’t let it. Not so soon at least.

Face down, Scout focuses on panting. Even when moans cut into it, he’s trying to keep steady. Oh, god, Sniper is hitting his core! Tears are prickling in his blue eyes. Scout isn’t sure if Sniper knows how wonderful he is at oral, so he hopes his moans are enough. Its not like he can form a whole word right now.

Toes curl as Scout tenses. Gasp stifled by the sheets, a gush of fluid shoots out from him. Sniper isn’t far of course. He laps at the mess, not stopping until he swallows every last drop. When he pulls away, the runner finally rolls back onto his back to relax. Its a short lived relaxation, for Sniper’s cunt hovers above his mouth. Thighs trap Scout’s head, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

I'm wondering, what about Heavy? What does he see when he looks at Medic? I might mean this request in the sfw way but do what you'd like! No pressure ofc

(Also, love your one-shots, old men cuddling yes.)

Thank you! lets see what he means!

Warnings: nudity

Rating: Mature

To call Medic handsome is an understatement. No, the doctor goes beyond simple words like handsome and attractive. He’s the morning sun after a blizzard. He’s the first raindrop before a storm. Medic is a bewitching man you see in a crowd and helplessly chase after. He cannot be confined to just words. Heavy knows how the doctor hates to be confined.

His genius knows no bounds, and if it finds one? It knocks it down. Heavy has watched in awe as Medic defiles the human body and molds it to his liking. Rewiring and replacing and reinventing. Challenging God and evolution in one fell swoop. Only Medic could mix gills and lungs during that one contract out at sea. Reversing evolution just to force it forward once more the very next day.

Heavy turns in bed to face the doctor. His doctor. The one who claimed him the moment they laid eyes on each other. Yes, he recalls the memories fondly. Fleeting touches to the arms, lingering gazes in battle, how they always wound up next to one another. Not even a year into the job, and Heavy found himself at his door with flowers. A bewitching man indeed.

If he were asked to describe Medic’s body, Heavy would crush whoever asked such an invasive question. Medic is no prude, but what lies beneath his lab coat and slacks is reserved for Heavy. Gray hairs curl against scarred flesh. His sensitive areolas stark against the warm skin tone. The Russian shudders when he thinks about how those massive thighs have constrained his neck. Not that he protested. Right when the last bit of oxygen fades away, Heavy is freed to take much needed breaths. Even now, beneath their bedsheets, Medic lays nude. A grand display of Heavy’s greatest temptation.

“Misha? Are you awake?” Comes a groggy voice. Medic stretches with a groan and rubs his eyes. His cold hand cups Heavy’s face, bringing him into a chaste kiss. Heavy lays his hand atop Medic’s to warm it.

“Da. Heavy is awake.” They move in close, bare chests pressed together. Medic trails a hand along Heavy’s love handles before stopping at his hips. He looks up, waiting for a nod or indication to continue. Instead, he receives a kiss to the forehead.

“Doktor is…more than words describe.” He’s a temptation of lust and greed. Heavy wants Medic all to himself. His cackle, his beauty, his charm that ropes in the unsuspecting. Everything about the man that brought Heavy here; in Medic’s bed with their nude bodies touching.

“Oh, Misha, you romantic.” Even if Heavy can’t word exactly how he feels about the man, Medic already knows. He’s poked around his brain enough times to figure out what makes it tick. He brings Heavy into another kiss before sitting upright in their bed.

Lesbian Pauling for the win!!

Warnings: none!

Rating: General

“Okay, heads up, my brother Robbie is a bit of an asshole. Don’t leave your purse alone with him. Oh, and Parker is a mega vegan. Like, the kind who guilt trips you everyday.” Scout warns Miss Pauling as they drive to his house. The two had taken a long break from one another after she gave a violent ‘No’ to Scout asking her out for the 80th time.

It was awkward, hell, painful even for Scout to hear her voice for contracts. The voice that, in a fit of frustration, very clearly pointed out every flaw in him. From the surface of his mediocre appearance to the depths of his narcissism, Pauling had to be absolutely sure that Scout would finally stop hitting on her. A rant she apologized for a few days later before they agreed to keep anything between them strictly professional for the time being.

Its a few months later now, and the two carefully built a friendship. No ulterior motives, no briefcase alarms being set off for dates, just two people existing as friends. It was a massive relief on both of their ends. Scout was finally able to meet a girl who was head over heels for him, which was evident by the photographs filling his wallet. For Pauling, she was able to hold a real conversation with the man without fighting to not sound too friendly.

“Oh, I’m well aware. I did an extensive background check on your family before you were hired. You have a third cousin in Nantes.” Scout, having no idea where that is, simply nods and takes out his wallet to admire his beautiful girlfriend.

Pauling parks along the curb seeing how crowded the driveway was. Cars ranging from neat business class vehicles to a sunflower oil hippie van to a beater on its last legs fill the pavement and pour into the road. Walking towards the house, neither of them have a chance to knock on the door before it swings wide open.

“Germy’s home!!” Robbie loudly announces with his younger brother, Hunter, jumping onto his back. While the two move aside to wrestle by the stairs, Parker steps into view. His wool sweater, up-cycled jeans, and sandals are the same from when Pauling did her background check. As in, stalking every family member to insure that no one would cause any trouble if Scout was hired.

“Well, you must be Miss Pauling. Tell me, do you think animals are—“ Before Parker can finish, Hunter is thrown onto him. The two crash to the floor, one laughing and the other groaning in pain. It was Robbie who threw Hunter, and now he looks at them in his tattered hoodie and stained jeans.

“Pauling? The girl that said she wouldn’t date you ever? Never ever? Not even if you were dead? That Pauling?” An obnoxious laugh. Scout grumbles, shoving past his older brother as they walk into the house. He’s immediately met with Robbie stealing his hat and grinding a knuckle into his head.

“Lighten up, loser! I’m just messing around. You’ve always been a sensitive little baby.” Ever since Scout was added to the massive family, he was known as the crybaby. Always ready to throw a tantrum and run into mommy’s arms because, as the baby, he should be comforted the most.

“Ma! Robbie’s bullying me again!” Scout bolts towards the kitchen, ready to play his role. The youngest sibling who can do no wrong and is always doted on. While Robbie runs after him, Pauling is guided to the living room where the remaining siblings are. Each one she recognizes in an instant.

Lawrence sits in a neat suit; the one he typically wears for out of office parties or when he wins a lawsuit and wants to celebrate. Dean is next to him in ironed slacks; the ones he wore during the most recent school faculty picture day. The last brother, Carter, was sketching a coastline using a Smooth Art brand pen to ink the graphite. Some of the majorly useless information she had gathered, but Admin wanted every detail documented.

“Ow, ow, ow!” And here comes Robbie, ear pinched between two vermillion almond nails. Next to him was Scout, tucked against his mother with a pout on his face. Pauling can even see fake tears. That’s when she gets a look at Scout’s mother. Her eyes go wide, shocked to see such a gorgeous woman.

Seeing that Spy’s relationship with her resulted in Scout, Pauling didn’t have to divulge into her personal life as intently as Scout’s siblings. Everything had already been done by Spy, neatly documented with the name Caroline printed onto the file.

“Robert Bennick, apologize for being rude in front of our guest.” Caroline orders, head turning to kiss Scout’s forehead. He had bent down for her to do so, which also allowed Caroline to brush his hair. A red kiss mark was left on Scout, and Pauling desperately wishes she was the one getting kissed right now.

Over the years, Miss Pauling assumed herself to be a non-romantic person. She was never one to seek out a love interest even as far back as her childhood. Head always stuck in a book or admiring pretty ladies in science magazines, which was probably an indicator back then, her love life was simply nonexistent. Something she was content with until this very moment.

Caroline has an hourglass figure beneath her low cut red dress. Her red lips are plump, perfectly kissable as they shine from the living room light. Hooded brown eyes with shaped eyebrows give Robbie a disappointing look as he mutters out an apology. Her manicured nails finally let go of his aching ear.

“Very good. I swear, you boys always find a reason to tease my little Slugger.” Cue seven faces of surprise and shock at the audacity of the statement. None vocalized their disagreement, however. Not when their poor, helpless little brother was still being coddled by Ma.

“Oh! You must be Miss Pauling. You can call me Caroline. I’m so glad you and my baby patched things up.” She approaches and drags Pauling into a tight hug. Her glasses are pushes askew from the squish, and Pauling is struggling to form words. The smell of lavender perfume fills her nose.

“Haha, um, I-I—oh, I forgot something—my phone! I forgot my phone in the car!” Freeing herself from the hug, she hopes that the sweat on her forehead isn’t too visible before running out of the house. As Pauling bolts to the car, Scout is quick to catch up with her.

“Dude, why’d you run? You never forget your phone.” Said item was currently tucked into the front of black purse held in her hands. Scout rubs the back of his neck, afraid that the chaos of his home scared off his friend. Sure, they’re a messy little cluster, but they all love each other!

“I ran cause-cause your mom-your mom’s pretty—I mean hot—I mean pretty hot!” Okay, maybe she should stop talking! Pauling really needs to shut up right now. She puts a hand in her hair to push the messy bangs out of her face.

“What?! Oh, my god! That’s my mom, dude! What the heck?!” Scout stands in horror. How could she say that? He’ll admit, growing up, he got the plenty of annoying milf comments about his mom. Enough to make him break noses and never bring guy friends over for years.

“I don’t know what happened! I just—I got all warm and sweaty, and she smells so nice!” Did she mention how soft her skin was? Those gentle hands had caressed her arm when they hugged. In her effort to explain the sudden infliction, it made Scout cover his ears.

“Lalala! Not listening! That’s my Ma! Not listening!” Scout groans, sinking to the curb. God, why does this always happen? Maybe Scout needs to just never invite anyone over to his Ma’s house again. Might be the only way to keep everyone from trying to date his mom!

“Sorry. Uh, can we go back inside?” A nervous chuckle. Pauling fixes her hair, trying not to look like she just had a gay awakening. Maybe she can sneak another hug from Caroline.

“Fine, but don’t hit on my mom.” Like that can stop Pauling. She has the house’s phone number, address, and Caroline’s work schedule. She can call her any day of the week to set up a date. Hell, Pauling will do it the second she gets home!

*swallows the money whole* OwO

Warnings: nsfw

Ratings: Explicit

It all began with a movie. An old, R rated movie Medic had put on for a private movie night with Heavy. As the halfway mark grew ever closer, an unexpected scene appeared. Displayed on the projector in all its naked glory was the main couple fellating one another. Mouths kissing genitals and tongues lapping at everything they could reach.

The change in scenery startled both men, causing Medic to burst out in laughter. It was erotic, yes, but so out of the blue! So unexpected! Even Heavy gave a chuckle. They continued watching, not planning to skip the scene or anything like that. Minutes later, the sexual intermission drew to a close. With stiff pants and red faces, the rest of the film was ultimately ignored in favor of Medic crawling on top of his lover. The doctor strips his coat and vest while Heavy pulls off his gloves.

“Is exciting?” Heavy asks as his pants slip off and onto the floor. Medic runs his hands along the man’s thighs before helping him pull off his shirt. The German just can’t get enough of Misha. His handsome, sexy Misha who holds him close and never lets go.

“How could it not be? Touch me, Misha.”

Credits roll on the projector by the time they settle onto one another. Medic frames Heavy’s face with his thighs, grinning as his eyes land on the cock before him. Tongue out, he lays it against the tip. The doctor licks the slit before taking the head into his mouth.

Its a salty taste he can’t get enough of. A hand grips the base, massaging the rest of Heavy’s shaft while Medic focuses on sucking the head. His eyes shut so that he can hollow his cheeks. Medic moves further down the shaft, reaching the end with little struggle. Cheeks hollowed once more, the doctor felt pride swell when Heavy roared out a moan.

Said man is diligently stuffing a tongue inside of his dear Medic. Heavy takes a moment to kiss and suck on his scrotum then trails his tongue along the taint until it plunges back into the man. He loves the way Medic clenches and shudders. How his thighs twitch, yearning to squish the man’s head between them. Not that Heavy would ever complain if they did. He loves a fat pair of legs around his face.

“Mmn~.” Medic pulls off to kiss and slobber on the cock. His hand rubs the base as if to coax the orgasm out of the Russian. Its all he wants right now. That delicious, burning hot splatter of cum shooting down his throat. Just thinking about the sensation has his own cock leaking onto Heavy. Its been neglected since they started, and Medic is seconds from demanding attention.

Thankfully, his silent prayer is answered. Heavy opens his mouth and takes Medic against his tongue. He touches along a prominent vein, licking and sucking it with fervor. It makes his doctor moan and tremble. The two work in tandem to bring one another to their orgasms. Medic is loudest with his sharp noises, but Heavy can hold a groan like no one else.

“D-Doktor!” Eyes squeezed tight and bodies shaking, the lovers cum at the same time. They swallow what they can while the rest dripped down the corner of their mouths. Medic fixes his askew glasses and pulls off of Heavy to dismount him. Mouths wiped clean, they share a kiss and finally turn off the projector. An eventful movie night that leaves the older couple warm with afterglow as they redress themselves.