|1||Adult Request Thread Pre-emptive Strike||689||23 November 2011 04:52|
|2||looking for a fic, have you seen me?||1||30 August 2014 19:44|
|3||No title yet but Heavy and Medic horror/mystery story thing sort of idk||10||26 August 2014 13:16|
|4||Terrible dark fic (Soldier+Scout/Engineer) Noncon.||1||26 August 2014 00:15|
|5||find-a-fic||1||25 August 2014 03:12|
|6||Dove's Derpilicious Thread||51||17 August 2014 00:59|
|7||It Takes Three to Tango||23||4 August 2014 01:27|
|8||Request and taking requests||6||3 August 2014 19:04|
|9||Null Our Boor; or: Taco Run||36||3 August 2014 01:52|
|10||Any class and you?||174||22 July 2014 14:25|
|11||Want You to Want Me (Helmet Party)||15||16 July 2014 01:38|
|12||Raining on Sunday (Helmet Party)||36||15 July 2014 09:03|
|13||Taking Requests for an interactive story of your choice||17||12 July 2014 16:38|
|14||classcest party thread over here||17||11 July 2014 07:18|
|15||Our Lost Kingdoms - (continuation)||25||8 July 2014 14:30|
|New Thread | All Threads|
Okay, the newer one has already started to auto-sage. It's currently still on the front page but it has fallen past the line where we'll have to start clicking All Threads in order to see it.
Here is the link to it and the ones before it. Lots of great requests still in these!
I'm going to repost the two most recent ones from the most recent thread.
I know this is mostly requests for new stuff, but I haven't been here in a while and I'm having trouble finding an old fanfic. It was Engie x You, started with ambiguous-gender-ness and then had two endings, one for M and one for F.
the story is scout x sniper, and it's Scout's first time with a man. He goes to confess his possible homosexuality with sniper, and they end up grinding naughty bits together in Sniper's van.
I've crawled through the archive several times, and I don't know that I'm just missing it or if it's gone. Could someone help me out?
This has been on tumblr for a bit now but I felt like posting here because a) why not and b) I would really love some more constructive criticism and feedback to improve future parts, ass I've never written anything like this before and hey, I'm no teratomarty.
plus I've never used the chan even after being around the fandom for a year now, I figured it was high time I tried.
The NSFW aspect is played down, this isn't porn with out plot so much as plot with a bit of fisting at the beginning and possibly some future blowjobs on the horizon
Warnings for fisting, a hint of badsex and major character death.
Here's the first part, anyway.
It was a full moon, appropriately enough, when it all began. Every window in the BLU base was open in surrender to the desert heat and allowing the moonlight’s bright majesty to live and breathe within it. Every mercenary already asleep went without a cover or his night clothes, and every mercenary still awake was down to his vest and shorts and attempting to cool himself off with a drink in the rec room. All, that is, except for Heavy and Medic, who were sweaty, sticky, completely naked and so very much enamored with each other.
Call me crazy but it's actually pretty nice to have a story with a plot again. Not that I wouldn't mind porn too, that would be a very pleasant surprise.
Okay, so this is officially abandoned. Expiration Date took all my headcanons for respawn and how it works and can be hypothetically used, stomped on it, set it on fire, then danced in the ashes. I can't think of a way around it. So, to make up for that a little bit here's a little bit from a little further down the plot. Apologies for the sad.
He exhaled slowly, his eyes closed, seeming to revel in the simple sensation of being able to move, to feel. Every shift in the air was amazingly poignant against his skin; each caress of the wind on his face like a callous, icy hand. He had such a smile of pure contentment on his face that Heavy found it difficult to look at him.
“You don’t understand,” he said quietly. It was without emotion, a simple honest statement. Heavy finally found the courage to look upon that handsome face. His skin was waxy, almost translucent, displaying the intricate array of blood vessels under the surface. His uniform was bloody and disheveled, his hair miraculously still perfect, and his gloves were absent.
“How can I, Doktor?” Heavy replied at last. “How can I possibly understand ?”
“Without experiencing it for yourself? You can’t.” He let in another breath, feeling every strand of muscle fiber between his ribs contract to allow it into his body. He opened his eyes. They were milky and clouded, the moon behind Heavy’s head reflected beautifully in them. Heavy tried, oh how he tried to find some trace of the man he knew before in them, but he saw nothing.
“I feel… simplified,” the German before him explained, “like I have been drained of all I was before and have become something …else.”
This is a gift I'm working on for a friend, who basically requested two random classes from one team finding and violating one from the other during humiliation round. I'm posting it here because I used to lurk in the threads some years ago and I think it's sad the chan is dead. Set in Sawmill, if it was like... bigger. WILL CONTAIN NONCON AND GRAPHIC VIOLENCE.
Scout isn't afraid. He likes to think he doesn’t know how to be afraid anymore, and if he does, he sure as hell isn't going to let it show in front of his own teammate.
Red Soldier, it's the understatement of the year to say he's batshit insane, but he knows things, and Scout ain’t ever seen him afraid of anything.
Soldier's seen a lot of things, Soldier's done a lot of things Scout probably doesn’t want to know about, but he thinks he probably needs to know. If he's going to stay here, risking his ass for intel he doesn’t get to see and shitty pieces of desert and run-down buildings, Scout sure as hell isn't just going to sit on the sidelines and watch while his team hogs all the fun.
He isn't stupid. He knows fighting doesn’t stop when the winning team is announced. Once a team is declared winner, what's left of the other is usually scattered or sent to respawn – often by Scout's own barrel or bat. And he's been killed a great deal of times himself during humiliation round too,
There's nothing to do but run or kill after a match, and he figures that's what most of his teammates do.
But Scout isn’t stupid, and Scout sees a lot too.
I remember reading a fic focusing on the scout and his pet (baby) tentaspy. The scout came into his room after a long day and fell asleep and the tentaspy got out of its tank and tentaspyxscout ensues. if anyone knows what fic I'm talking about, pls link it to me, or even post it on the thread, I don't mind either way.
Overall Plan: This thread will be where I dump random, hopefully shorter shit! I have way too many different threads on here and I'm going to try and consolidate by only posting new stories into this thread once I've completed them. I'm hoping it will also be an incentive to actually complete some of the stories I've started recently.
However, I can't claim any real quality. There are some amazing authors here and I'm not one of them. But I like to think if I work at it, I might become moderately worthy at some point.
I used the following prompts and some of my own prompts, as well as the many general requests for some classcest that I keep seeing.
I usually don't bother making requests in these threads, but you know what? Fuck it.
I'd like if somebody wrote some straight Engineer porn. The lady is up to the author. I just like to picture him as a very romantic guy in the sack and I'd like to see him treating a lady right.
In the normal game, when a team wins, most of the time they can charge in and kill any member of the losing team they find. Well, I want to see a fic where, instead of that, when the winners catch a losing team member, they can pretty much do whatever sexy thing they want to them as a reward.
Dove I love you, a lot. I was looking at the board going 'I havn't done anything TF2 in ages..I should read something but what?' then I saw your thread and was all very happy! I love the TF2bugs, ssooo much you don't even know! That DemoEngie fic is also very good! At first I was like hm..well this is new...not sure if like. But I do, a lot heh. I also feel all write-y myself which is awesome! All in All, good to hear you've been feeling better and keep up the awesome work!
Although this thread is most likely dead, I just want to say that I enjoyed each and every story in it. I really did.
Dove, you are awesome.
This is a Spy/Engie/Spy porn fic. Very little plot, less dialogue. Concrit welcomed.
Requested (and betaed) by jeffian
Friday’s battle looked like it was going to end in a stalemate. Neither team had managed to capture the other’s intelligence even once. The Engineers had been extremely aggressive and creative with their placement of sentries and teleporters. Whenever a Spy or Scout managed to get to the briefcase, a Soldier or Demoman seemed to come from nowhere to shut them down completely. And it seemed like you couldn’t take a step without running face first into a minigun or flamethrower.
RED Engineer chanced a glance at his watch. There were less than ten minutes to go in the day’s battle. He had spent the last half hour or so planted behind his level 3 sentry in the Intelligence Room, guarding the briefcase. If he could hold out for a few more minutes, at least his team wouldn’t lose. He slipped his pocket watch back into the bib pocket on his overalls and waited, counting down the last few minutes in his head. With the exception of a BLU Scout that managed to get halfway across the Intelligence Room, Engie didn’t see anyone from the BLU team as he set himself up to run out the rest of the clock...
He was drumming his fingers idly on the back of his sentry when RED Spy darted in slightly injured, with the BLU Pyro in hot pursuit. Spy dove behind the Engineer just as a rocket made quick work of the Pyro. “What happened, Spah? Ah thought you were making one last run for BLU’s briefcase.”
“I was,” Spy said bitterly, brushing dust off of his suit. “I would ‘ave gotten it too if ze boy hadn’t run directly into a sentry just as I was sneaking into zeir intelligence room. A stray bullet decloaked me and I retreated, right into ze waiting arms of zat mumbling abomination. I barely got away with my life and most of my suit intact.” Spy lit a cigarette to calm his nerves. “Hopefully ze boy and ze Soldier ‘ave better luck than I did.” As the Spy exhaled smoke through his nose, the telltale sound of electricity crackling filled the air as
love it all!! just feed moree!!!
(Sit down before you hurt yourself)
Okay, I actually have continued this after forever. I hope it's not too sloppy.
Thigh to Thigh and Cheek to Cheek (BLU Spy/RED Engineer)
As the two men drove back to base in Engie’s pickup, the BLU Spy rode in the passenger seat instead of hidden in the bed of the truck. Both of them had downed a few more beers than they really should have, especially in the company of the enemy, but alcohol had a way of making a fella forget common sense. As the truck bumped along over the uneven ground, the buzzed Engineer noticed with a start that the Spy’s hand had settled on his thigh and was moving towards his crotch, nimble fingers tracing small circles against his leg. “Wha-what’re ya doin’?” Engie stammered hoarsely, gaze flicking between the gloved hand and the road leading back to base.
The Spy casually blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth and pitched his cigarette butt out the window. “What does it feel like I’m doing, mon petit?” His hand slid higher up the Engineer’s strong thigh before finally settling against the slowly swelling bulge between his legs. He gave the hardening member a light squeeze, the sound of leather rubbing over denim seeming impossibly loud in the charged silence between them.
The shorter man could only grip the steering wheel more tightly as he forced himself to concentrate on the road and ignore the sudden tightness of his pants. He clenched his teeth against a soft groan, shifting in his seat as he tried to move away from the skilled hand and towards it at the same time. “Ahhh… dammit…”
As they came within sight of the base, the Spy smiled at Engie. “Well, it wouldn’t do for me to be seen going into your base wizh you. It would be best if I wasn’t seen, non?” With that, he ducked his head down, not towards his own lap, but toward the Texan’s. His thin fingers unzipped the fly of the Engineer’s overalls, freeing his throbbing erection from his unbearably confining shorts. He hadn’t had a chance to admire the weight and neat appearance of the Engie’s penis during their first tryst, but he could now. Puberty hadn’t given the man much height, but he wa
I realize there's already a request thread, but my mobile can't load the entire page.
Basically, this is where I request something from you and I do my very best to fill yours.
Now honestly, I'll understand if I get zero replies because this site is very slow with activity and my plot ideas are kinda weird.
• Manncest, or more specifically, Blutarch Mann x Redmond Mann. I did post this idea in the request thread, but I am unsure if that thread got deleted or died. In this request, I'd like it to be the younger Manns being more friendly when they're young, with incestuous affairs like fucking in the garden in their mansion before dinner, or spending more time with each other than their assigned lady-friends. Then their falling out happens after their father dies, in which one another attempts to reconcile with each other but ends up making it worse, causing their hatred for each other. This could go into AU territory where they share the land and live happily ever after or they actually manage to have a child in their old freakish age. Have fun with this one.
• Scout/Soldier. I like the young, brash kid with the older, not necessarily smarter older man. It could be Fem!Scout or regular, but fluff and awkward flirtatiousness would be awesome. Probably drunk sex as well.
• Soldier/Spy. Could be cross-faction or same team. The Spy could impress the Soldier with his blunt brutality when pushed to his limits, which results in rough sex.
• Engie/Spy. BLU Engineer finds a Stitched Saboteur lying on the ground at Teufort and fixes it up and brings it to the battlefield. The RED Spy is flattered by this and finds the Engineer later after the battle for some fun. Challenge: Incorporate aphrodisiacs and/or drunken dub-con.
Well, since it's their own thread, it seems like an acceptable bump this time around. If after a while there's still no response wanting to do a fic trade though (that seems to be the goal here), probably best to let the thread die. Was worth a shot, after all.
My On the Road/TF2 pastiche.
I first startarted bumming around with Scout a few years after the war ended and a few before war ended which was never a war, , and this was long before I realised that neither war really had a beginning or an end and that all of them just ran into eachother, willrun into each other til the end of time, but more about that later. Scout had decided that night he was “just stahvin for a taco” and I had to reflect that sentiment. We were both coming down and Scout was certain that he was the fitter of the two of us to drive, I could not object. He had only done “just a little speed and some mescaline.” “Where'd you get mescaline?” “Where I get mescaline.” That's when I knew I would never get a straight answer out of him for anything, as if I ever wanted one. We left and very shortly I knew we wouldn't just be getting tacos. “I need to see the Medic,” he said and gave me a cheeky bloody wink and while we were driving he told me about his awesome life: running, literally, from one girl to the next high, to the next girl to the next high, to a few men in between, mostly for the money. “I'm the fastest hand in Boston!” I believed him about that mostly business and I didn't question him further on it. We arrived at Medic's place and before the engine stopped, Scout had bounded over the carhood and was screaming into the building's intercom, “I'M HYEAH TA BUY!” We were buzzed in. While dazed and lumbering halfway up the steps, he'd already reached his destination but immediately raced back down to intercept me, “Come on, old man, you're holding up the mission!” “Gwaawn, I'm not that much older than you!” “You are.” “You just seem young cause you still act like a teenager.” The door opened. “Aw, gawddammit!” “C'est le plus plaisir de vous-rencontre, aussi. You've brought another friend, I see.” “Saloooo!” I called out. A plain, unmasked face suddenly appeared and I was taken aback, we
“Try to remember the worst thing you’ve ever done. You needn’t tell me.”
“Yes. What now?”
“Do you associate this event with a choice or a compulsion?”
Medic considered this briefly. “There was a clear sense of urgency, as best it can be described with respect to discretion.”
“With respect to discretion, were the rules of ethics or morality suspended in this moment of indiscretion if your act was so compelled?”
Medic answered very carefully, “It feels as if yes and no could be correct in the same instant.”
“That is the essence of post-modernism this goes for science as well as art. Heisenberg discovered what literature has known for centuries; objectivity is the least objective of all experiences.”
“And now empiricism has to be re-examined? Along with logic and simple arithmetic, I can go back to testing a person’s humors, supposedly?”
Admittedly, any biped with a marginally acceptable sense of ethics could have done that job. At this thought, the medic mused at the irony of how stressful and simultaneously simple the task of keeping everyone alive actually was; it was easier to decide on whom to take a bonesaw, to be utterly, gracelessly honest. Musing further, he concluded that this conflict encompassed the ultimate endgame of evolution; save the world at the pull of a lever, and pull enough times to nearly kill you. Forever.
It used to be that a life could be measured by the scars incurred, a document of times passing, but now everything can so easily be smoothed over. Each little meaningless resurrection. The first law of thermodynamics. All that can be is either being or becoming and it's all mostly emptiness; each unique arrangement of particles determines what bounces, bends, breaks or binds; all of it waiting for oblivion. I v prakh vozvratish'sya. “Knives, knives to grind,” he hummed.
The sniper quit the loo to stumble upon a line, the faces of those waiting ranged from dismay to bemusement. Well, I am allowed to use a toilet, aren't I? Even if, admittedly, at this point using a jar feels more natural. Reflecting further, he discovered a bizarre conjunction (and where it became a schism) between a duty (ignore the pun, s'il vous plait) and a right. The definition, the difference, depended purely on context and temperament. These are the choices: inside the tent, outside the tent; kindness or cruelty.
Spy felt an intrusion as he entered the bathroom. “Qu'est-ce que ça?”
“Himmy uh mah.”
“D'accord,” he complied giving the proposition only a brief thought. Before he could fulfill the request himself, a bare hand reached into the opening designated for his mouth, and feeling a strange, bare hand where any such contact had previously been infrequent generally, absent recently, his body involuntarily tried to graft itself onto the pyro's, commencing at the hips. He found it difficult to recover from this dizzying imbalance.
Even with the corporeal engulfment
I've been a thread stalker for a couple of months for a fanfic and I was wondering if there is anyone who can still make those kinds of fics now these days? If so, feel free to put it here.
170 here! And I'm so glad you liked it that much, ahhh :'D I've been practically stalking this thread worrying about how badly written my sex scenes are, heh.
Oh, damn it, that's true... I've really got to brush up on my French. Guess that's what happens when you accidentally wallow about in Sniper/Spy stuff for a while and get your head filled with "cher"s! I will be sure to keep an eye on the language in the future, though, and thanks again for reading :)
I second 170 on the fanfic requests, though I think it would be really interesting if someone combined the two ideas and did a threesome sort of thing, or a voyeur! sadistic, blood-fetish Medic. Like maybe he turned the fridge Spy into a tenta and captured the fem!reader at some point (on the opposing team or something?) and then the fun times ensue. Or something. I'm too shy to write this stuff, unfortunately.
But aw man, we gotta keep this thread alive. And good job, 170!
A/N: Yep, inspired by the events of Expiration Date, but altered a bit. First fic, so please critique on where I can improve! Please point out errors in spelling, grammar, or tense. And this is my second post (I’m Anon 156) so I hope I don’t commit formatting errors in posting this from MS Word.
[BLU Medic x RED female reader]
Dying Wish by FLAzura
As you pace through the spic-and-span corridors of this renowned hotel, your team Medic’s voice echoes through your mind. It continues to do so, after more than 60 hours that he said it.
“Ve only have three days to live.”
Not that you’re afraid of death, you’re only sad. Sad because in the past three days, you were growing anxious by the minute. You do want to see your family back in your hometown, but it’s extremely far away from the Hydro base, and you can’t make it there in less than three days. Even now, you’re still extremely anxious and nervous. You have been ‘allowed’ to leave the base, and you go catch the train to the hotel you and your secret lover have been going to in the three years of your relationship. The supposed last day of your life falls on the day of your third anniversary, and thank goodness, you have been allowed to slip out of the RED base.
You clutch your bag protectively against you, pulling it nearer. You hope you aren’t shaking as you pass by people. You jitter at suspicious people, ranging from regular civilians to smoking men. You try to stay away from smoking men, especially French smokers. You don’t want your secret discovered by any Spy from any team color. You start questioning yourself when you do pass by a smoking Frenchman by Room 459. You could have just brought a dirty-blonde wig and put on sunglasses and claim you had sore eyes. However, this particular French guy was undoubtedly shorter than you. You mumble about not being allowed to smoke indoors and hurry away. Your paranoia seems to be at the peak when you have to lunge through a crowd of people ordering food in the cafeteria lobby. You just have to cross the immense lobby (which is actually just a medium sized hallway) turn to the right, go up four floors, and
Author's Note: Ooops. I was in the middle of the next part of SAWMAaS, and this came out instead. I'm not even sorry. I debated between using Engie's canon name or not, and in the end I decided that Dell was just too adorable of a name not to use.
A clink and a hiss heralded the opening of his second BLU Streak, and Dell raised the bottle to his lips with a grin. Nothing else could quite get the grit and dust out of his mouth after a battle like that, and he could already feel the rigors of the day dissipating as the alcohol slid coolly down his throat. Beside him, Solly sipped at his drink quietly, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. But that suited the Texan just fine, and he set his beer aside to pick up a pencil instead, scribbling out a few ideas he’d worked out earlier in the field.
Like so many nights before, it was just the two of them in his workshop. He had offered to let the brash military man pick the night’s music, and he’d lingered, unsure, before settling on the “most manly looking one” - luckily, Johnny Cash was the engineer’s personal favourite, and he laughed, setting the needle to the record. He wasn’t quite sure when he’d started allowing the soldier into his space, but he had, and found that if he looked past all the posturing and grumbling, he could be a fairly amiable. After a time, they’d even settled into an easy kind of friendship, enjoying each others company as they shared the contents of his cooler and the only seat in the room.
Normally, the music simply served as white noise. Dell knew the words to every song on every record he owned, and the soldier couldn’t be bothered to worry about sissy men singing about their feelings and lost dogs. But that night was different. Somewhere between the third and fourth verses of “I Walk the Line”, Solly turned to face the engineer, with the oddest expression Dell had ever seen. He’d been so quiet, listening to the song with the same intensity that ruled every action he took, that if it hadn’t been for the weight and warmth his shoulder leaning against his own, he would have forgotten t
Helmet Party fics always get me hard, but this one really stands out. Great work.
Could you not? This thing hasn't been updated for 2 years.
Put 'sage' in the email field next time or I'll seriously slap a bitch.
Slight warning on this one - it's just rimming, but that squicks some people out so you can't say I didn't tell you! There might be a few small errors here and there; I really need to find myself a beta....But you're not here for my rambling. ON TO THE PORN.
Rain fell heavily, droplets cascading down the windshield of Engineer’s old pick-up. Flashes of lightning brightened the dim skies, and thunder cracked at regular intervals, rolling to a deep and distant rumble. He’d given up on making it back to the base – the bridge ahead was washed out, and visibility near zero as the sheets of water danced in the wind, skittering across the gleaming asphalt. There was nothing to do but wait out the storm, and he found that he just didn’t mind. Lighting up another Lucky Strike, he leaned back against the comfortable, worn-out seat and glanced at his companion out of the corner of his eye.
He still wasn’t quite sure why Soldier had decided to tag along with him. The man had called it an “escort”, but he knew Soldier well and had dismissed it as one of his usual excuses. Maybe it had been an opportunity to get away from the base for a while, something the gruff military rarely allowed himself. Maybe it had just seemed like a good idea at the time. Either way, Engineer had appreciated the help as he loaded his supplies into the truck bed, and couldn’t deny the company was welcome. His rare trips to town were generally lonely, just him and the radio and a long, dreary ride down a dusty road. With Soldier around, it was at least interesting.
His decision to wait wasn’t sitting well with said soldier, however. “You’re gonna let some namby-pamby STORM beat you, Engie? This isn’t even half as bad as some of the downpours I saw in Poland! This truck is an admirable vehicle and could easily handle these conditions,” Soldier grumbled, folding his arms over his thick chest. His usual jacket was nowhere to be seen, and instead he sported a simple tight white tee; the helmet he wore daily, however, was still firmly atop his close-shaven head. A rumpled pack of cigarettes was
Okay, at the very top of /afanfic there's a thing that says [A Moderator's Note - Please Read]. If you're confused about the rules, or even if you're not and it's one of your first times on tf2chan or a similar site, it's kind of a no-brainer to read the thing that says "Please Read." And if, in fact, you read it, the first thing it says is: "Resident Kilo Modster here to issue a statement on the particular issue with people necrobumping threads on the textboards. Some folk are doing so on accident, just simply by forgetting to put the word "sage" in the e-mail field of their comment. So, for folks wondering about the site rules, saying it's one of their first times here or on a similar site, etc--there you go. It's interesting to note that the very next thing it says is: "This is a forgivable offense as they may not know all the board functions. Viewers may demonstrate this function to folks, but any one who only comments to reprimand someone for not saging will be banned from the text boards for a short period of time on the grounds of inciting unnecessary drama. If someone bumps a thread and it bothers you, please make use of the report function in the comment box so the mod's can deal with it."
Well this hasn't been posted on in a while. I guess I'll post this anyways and hope at least one person notices it.
The first part was fucking amazing. Really hot and sexy. The second part, eh, I don't understand BDSM at all. Would've been better without it.
Anyways, can someone please link me some more good helmet parties?
(USER WAS BANNED FOR MULTIPLE NECROBUMPS)
Hey guys I'm taking requests for any ideas you'd like me to do. Request away! I'd like to write easy stories but if you're a hardcore requester (and if we get enough of the same request) I will probably write it.
in all honesty idk if this is the right way to ask for requests...
This is to continue and fill in the blanks of my horrid story on
Heavy at first didn't enjoy the feeling of such a slimy, wet flexible tentacle slide up and down his ass but after a few pained groans and yelps from his pinned body, he closed his eyes to try to fixate himself in a happier moment, to try to think that his dear doctor was doing this; but he couldn't, and he ended up giving into the pleasure the bread monster brought with it.
The Medic however was forced to be pinned with hands over head and syringe gun next to his body as he was entered so rough, he nearly screamed from the pain---- if not were for an extra tentacle in his mouth to act as a blowjob he would've.
Hi! Tbis is really good!<Like, jeez, I love the smut part~> Is this still interactive?
I'll start with Spycest, the prompt was "Spy/anyone, fancy cheeses." Feel free to
The rest of the team assumed he had been to see his lady love that weekend. And indeed, the Spy had taken the first available flight out of the local airport to Boston, but not to visit his little cauliflower. As much as it pained him to admit, he had left the base to indulge a far more selective taste. Wine and women, he could eventually find out here, though perhaps not quite to his standards. Fine cheeses, however, were near impossible to locate, of any quality other than that oily prepackaged swill the other men willingly put in their sandwiches and consumed.
He ate a sandwich once, in the middle of battle, injured and in desperate need of healing. He vowed to never put himself in the position of requiring one again.
When the Spy was certain the team had gone to bed for the night, he slipped out of his room and fled to the kitchen in shameful silence. There, in the refrigerator, in a paper sack labeled “dead dove, don’t open” and which had been clearly opened at least twice then hastily closed back, he retrieved a small ripe wedge of Roquefort. Tucked behind a six pack of Red Shed, he found his prized Chevrot, and squirreled away in the rarely-used vegetable bin, a piece of Manchego. With care, he set the cheeses out on the cleanest plate he could find, admiring their colors even in the fluorescent lights. A flick of his knife sliced each wedge into a few bite-size pieces, fanned out to best showcase their unique textures.
The Spy quietly uncorked a bottle of wine, a pricey sauvignon blanc he had been hoarding since his last trip to civilization, and filled a glass. A handful of raisins and some soda crackers that had seen fresher days would help cleanse the palate in between nibbles of cheese. The contents of the plate made for a rather tragic picture, nothing like the decadent displays of his own country, when he could count on a wine and cheese tasting every other week, no repeats for at least a year. And yet, the Spy could not help smiling a little at
Is anyone interested in me posting the rest of the classcest series or are you guys all good and I can start to fill other requests? I just want to know, so I can work on other requests, thanks.
I would like to see the others but if you dont feel like it then you dont have to
Nah, I'll finish the series regardless, I just thought maybe I should fill requests elsewhere that someone is actively waiting to get filled instead of these seemingly abandoned prompts. Anyway, here's Scoutcest, filling two prompts, 1. I’m a lonelier version of you and 2. he gets off on being able to watch himself cum.
Not So Fast
By the sun’s path through the desert sky, they’d been playing ball for well over an hour now. Just the two of them, the RED and BLU Scouts, tossing and catching and batting, racing each other through the scrubby wasteland outside of their bases. Of course, their version of playing ball involved leaping over ravines and bouncing off shoulder-high boulders, cleats tearing up the ground into dusty clods as they dove for the baseball that soared impossibly high, unnaturally fast through the air. Neither one missed, despite their reckless speed. They were the best at what they did, after all; their respective corporations would not settle for less.
Eventually though, they did run into each other, both of them too intent on reaching for a surefire homerun the RED Scout batted into the air that they tripped over each other and landed in a heap of snarling bodies on top of the ball. Pulling himself free, the BLU Scout scowled at his counterpart, blaming him for the run-in.
The first thread ( http://tf2chan.net/afanfic/res/9805.html )stopped moving up after all, so the rest of "Our Lost Kingdoms" will be posted here. The end is fast approaching, so here's another vignette!
In response to the last thread's last comments-
207- BLU Spy isn't an engineer, but he's practical!
208- Thanks for looking over that last one again. After I fixed it up, I sat around twiddling my thumbs and wondering if anyone would bother reading it again, or if it was an improvement at all. Gah.
209- I've been kind of imagining him as something like a splicer covered in metallic paint, or maybe the lovechild of The Thing and T-1000. When I'm done writing this one, I think I'll try drawing some of the scenes and locations, so people might know what the hell I was imagining.
On a note, the insult BLU Spy has been using for his unlikely travelling companions- tête carré- is standard term for Anglophones, it means "square head". I don't write character's thoughts with accents or blurbs of other languages, which is why he "thinks it in English". He's really thinking in French, and it's all translated for the reader's (and writer's) sake.
The conservatory's occupants were huddled among the scarred debris, listening for any sound that could betray someone's position. Background conversation was briefly heard over the public address, but nobody could discern who the voices belonged to, or what they were saying.
Then Scout gave another call, one less bombastic and triumphant than the last. "Fuck, are you guys still alive out there? You didn't get hit, did ya? Uh, anyhow, we need you guys to keep that motherfucker in the greenhouse. Knock him down again, hold him in place, doesn't matter how you do it. Just pin him for as long as it takes us ta turn him into Swiss cheese." It was bizarre, hearing the boy catching his breath at ear-damaging volume. As if in afterthought, he added, "...shit. Tex woulda heard all of that, too.&qu
Words cannot express how happy I am that this fic was not abandoned!
PLEASE PLEASE if there is a god PLEASE I need to know the last bits, even though you probably won't ever even read this, much less write the last part. Where did the Sniper end up? How will he and Engie resolve their encounters with Spy and Soldier? Will the Demo get plastered to his satisfaction? Even a hint about what'll happen to Andy, and how the BLU Spy dealt with the end of the alliance? What of Pyro, Medic, and Heavy, who made but a brief cameo the whole time? I am desperately scouring the internet for a more complete version of this story.