MEIN GOTT I FINALLY FINISHED THIS

Here, have some Gender neutral Spy/you

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When you woke up, you felt like you were glowing. It was one of those mornings where you had slept like a baby and woke up in an exquisite state of comfort. The scarlet sheets were wonderfully warm from the body heat of both you and the man sleeping beside you. You took in a deep sigh of contentment and fluttered your eyes open. Sunlight dripped perfectly through the curtains, casting a soft golden light across the hotel room. The articles of clothing scattered around the room adorn it like carefully placed pieces of furniture. You closed your eyes again and played with the idea of falling back asleep. The last thing you wanted to do right then was leave that bed, where everything was perfect. But you sat upright anyway, flinging your legs over the side and letting them dangle in the surprisingly cool air. It was a starling contrast to the cozy warmth of the covers. Too late to go back, though, so you placed your feet tentatively on the floor.

The bathroom was even colder. Goosebumps ran up your legs from the chill of the tile floor. It was a nice room, though. Everything was a shining egg white and accented with light blue. Very stereotypical bathroom decor, complete with a hand soap dispenser in the shape of an angel fish. The shower stood in the corner, clean and welcoming. You found it mildly amusing that you didn't have to undress at all. You turned the small, crystalline knob, resulting in a light sprinkling of warm water. A wide smile flashed across your face. You leaned your head in, relishing the feeling of the water as it splashed across your features. Your hair began to sag with water and drip onto your shoulders. Not wanting to exclude the rest of your body from this heated bliss, you stepped inside the shower and closed the mottled glass door behind you.

This was arguably more comfortable than the bed was. You hugged your arms to yourself and started humming. You were so happy. Your mind wandered back to last night and how you met Spy. You had been in such a bad mood, slumped over the bar with a glass of some indiscriminate alcohol. Just another lonely Friday night in this one horse town. Then he walked up to you. Spy tapped you on the shoulder, catching you by surprise. You were mostly confused that anyone was talking to you. He seemed to enjoy your bewildered expression, smiling lightly. He took a drag on his cigarette and you found yourself intoxicated by the smoke.

From then, it happened quickly. You felt butterflies grow in your stomach while you remembered the butterflies from that night. He had led you from the bar and a couple blocks down towards the tall hotel. You were dazed and enamored. He guided you by the waist down the carpeted hallways, trailing smoke behind the two of you. He had been speaking lightly in French the entire way and you had loved the sound of his voice despite not knowing a bit of the language. You were in awe. Lovestruck.

You didn't recall much of your surroundings from that night. Standing in the shower, you concentrated and tried to remember walking into the hotel room, but, for the life of you, you couldn't. You just remembered kissing him in the subdued lighting.

Oh, that kiss. A wide smile danced across your face. His lips were so warm. You leaned into the kiss with a sigh, wasting no time in letting his tongue slip into your mouth. Your stomach was doing back flips and your head was getting dizzy. Spy pulled you closer, moving his lips to your neck and ear. You found yourself moaning quietly, already impatient. The suspense itself was arousing, every moment getting drawn out and teasing at what was to come.

Spy worked off your clothes easily, leaving you with your underwear for the time being. The touch of his silky gloves against your skin had you shuddering with pleasure. You hands finally had enough of all the waiting and grabbed at his clothes, clutching the lapels of his suit and quickly tugging it off of his shoulders. You mouth hung open and your breathing was heavy. Your heart pounded in your chest as you revealed more and more of the Frenchman's beautifully scarred skin.

There was a moment, you remembered, where you simply stood and stared. Spy was a slender man with sleek muscles subtly making their appearance. The lacy burns and deep scars that covered him did nothing to lower his appeal; in fact, they complimented his frame and accented his body just so. You eyes were drawn to his belt line, where curls of dark hair spilled over the top of his pants. Spy was smirking and obviously enjoying your attention. He waved his hand down were your eyes were fixed as an open invitation.

You certainly didn't want to keep him waiting.

You braced your hand against the shower wall, your legs feeling a bit week. Your jaw dropped and you breathed a bit heavier, placing yourself back into that intimate moment. He was already semi-hard when you pulled down his underwear and it didn't take much to get him the rest of the way there. You knelt before him, licking along the bottom of his shaft in long, slow motions. That taste of dry skin... you really only get to taste that once. Then it's tainted with the ever so familiar taste of saliva.

Spy placed both hands on your shoulders, smiling down on you softly. His eyes - oh, his eyes - were asking a question. They were very politely asking 'please?"

His hands suddenly tightened around your shoulders, fingers digging into your back, as you finally swallowed his whole length. You tucked your thumbs into your fists, remembering vaguely that it suppresses the gag reflex. You bobbed your head, pleased with the quiet murmurs of French above you. Of course, after his initial tension, his hands loosened up and began to toy with your hair, coiling and winding inside of it and pulling you in closer. You closed your eyes and focused on getting deeper. You thrust your head forward, up to the point that curls of hair tickled your nose, then pulled back slowly, lips tight around his cock.

You found your hands getting uneasy and distracted, both in memory and in real time. Spy had noticed the increased number of moans vibrating against his member caused by your inquisitive and easily bored fingers. Laughing, he pulled out of your mouth, leaving you confused. He grabbed your arm by the elbow to gently pull you to your feet.

"It seems you are ready to continue, non?"

In the shower, Spy wasn't around to stop you, so your hand was able to continue fondling yourself as it pleased. Your face was flushing just a bit, but you still had a ways to go.

Next thing you remember, you were on the bed. Your undies had miraculously disappeared on the way over and Spy was wearing nothing but his socks. He laid on top of you, hands feeling up your sides and lips nipping at your neck. You gasped audibly as you felt his cock brush against you. Damnit, you wanted it /in/ you. But Spy just kept fondling and bucking his hips just to torture you. A master tease, he was.

Breathing rapidly, you flashed through the events like a slide show, not bothering to tease yourself at all. It was mostly a blur from that point on anyway. Once he actually /did/ get inside you, you lit up like the fourth of July. He had started slowly, still teasing and chuckling at your gasped pleas to ride you until you couldn't see straight, but boy did he deliver in the end. Dwelling on that glorious flood of passion, you doubled over in the shower. You were actually panting now. Spy's hurried lines of French - what you believed to be swears interrupted with words like "cheri," and "amour" - rang in your ears, coaxing you to climax.

"MY GOD-" you gasped, feeling the tension in your body suddenly release and wash down the drain. You hand went limp to your side and your mouth shut into a warm, contented smile. You had fallen asleep last night resting on Spy's shoulder while he casually smoked another cigarette.

Listlessly, you turned off the shower, promptly getting out and wrapping yourself in one of the fluffy white hotel towels. You hummed a song that you couldn't put a name to; one that was upbeat and romantic. You fancied for a moment that you had actually fallen in love with the masked Frenchman. And you also fancied that he loved you. He had been so passionate, so tender. You wanted to do something nice for him. Cook him breakfast? You thought on the matter, wondering what you could scavenge out of the mini bar, as you opened the bathroom door.

Spy was leaving. Your stomach dropped and you dashed across the room to meet him at the door, clutching your towel to your chest and burying your face into his side. Spy only glanced at you before turning his eyes away.

"I 'ave to go, /cheri/. It's part of zhe job."

You were holding back tears.

"Will I ever see you again?" You pulled your face out of Spy's shirt to look up at him, doe eyed. He smiled and abruptly kissed you. Your breath hitched in surprise. The kiss wasn't fancy; no tongue, no slobbering, no wandering hands; but it was passionate nonetheless. You felt your heart melt.

"Per'aps, /cheri/"

You think you need another shower.

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I've noticed that I hate writing actual intercourse. I was about to write it in, but then I was like, "Naw. I'll just talk about you fapping in the shower. That's just as good, right?"

>>198

This... it pleases me. Please continue.

I second, third and fourth more Uniform!Medic and You

>>200

well, if you second third and forth, then I fifth, sixth and seventh!

A gender ambiguous Medic/You

~

Muscles contract, needles pierce, blood seeps and scalpels shimmer.
The Medic is bending over your limp body, spats of blood staining his once clean lab coat. A needle glimmers momentarily in the bright light, until he plunges it into your skin. You shudder, feeling every tiny drop of liquid invading your blood stream.
You think that by now, you would have fallen unconscious – that one of the many chemicals injected forcefully into you, coursing through your veins, would at least numb the pain. But it does no such thing, it only emphasises the pain, makes it the only thing you can think about.

He stands over you menacingly, the light of the room focusing purely on him and you.
You lay sprawled out on a metal operating table, face up. Another needle enters your arm; you let out a small moan and clutch your hair.
“There there, meine kleine, do not move...“
A string of pain shoots up through your arm and you convulse violently on the table. You can feel him smiling.
“Interesting results.“ He states.
The next needle was more of a violent jab than a prick. The pain is everywhere now, not just from where he just injected you, but it seems to radiate from all over your body. You wrap both arms around your head, tearing at your hair. You open your mouth wide to scream – but no sound escapes. One hand leaves your head to clutch the table for support. The Medic wants more.
Theres a brief pause in movement. Suddenly, he takes both your hands in an almost proffessional manner and stretches them, so you feel the muscles in your arms tighten. He looks down at you for a glance, you can feel hints of dry blood on your face. He smiles – almost sweetly.
It’s not your pain that he adores, nor your silent screams, it is purely the knowledge that pleases him, the knowledge that your flesh belongs to him – that it is his flesh to twist and distort.
With his gloved hand, he places his hand on your stomach, and savours your slow, laboured breathing. He chooses to remove his gloves – he wants to feel your skin, your blood, your flesh. The remnants of your tattered clothes are pulled up, exposing more skin. This is what exictes the Medic, not guns, not kills, but this.
He brings the knife to your bare stomach, you let out a weak moan at its coldness. This isn‘t enough to douse the Medics twisted desires ,he needs more, so much more.
The taller man brings his face right down to yours –his arms pressing you harder against the table. You can feel the warmth of his breath as he works his way up and down your neck, the feeling of the scalpel also against your skin an ever present threat. Too weak to move, you can only feel him nipping and biting lustfully at your flesh, while whispiring German vulgarities into your ear.
Your eyes shoot open when he does the unthinkable – and you find yourself staring back a face with two rows of white teeth grinning at you, a wolf baring its fangs at its prey, its eyes full of bloodlust. The scalpel is then pressed to your neck.
“You’re disgusting.“ You hiss.
“That’s why you love me.“

>>202
Wow suspenseful!

>>202

"That's why you love me."

BLYAD. I love dis doktor.

thank you very much for this.

Can I request Scoot's ma and you fic? If you do I would love you forever. if you make it scoot's ma and female you, I would find you and... well... I'll figure out what I'd do, probably rape you, or marry you, or bear your children, or something. I know there was one around here somewhere, but it never got finished, and I think it was deleted.

>>205

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6231508/1/Wishing_You_Were_Him

Personally, I am a devout little Medic fan, and I've been looking forward to making a nice Medic and You fic for quite a while.

Instead, I wrote this. If I called it 'Medical Benefits', how many people would find a way to stone me to death through the internet?

Do excuse my broken German. For having family that was straight up born in the Deutscheland, I'm pretty shitty at the language.



"Bitte"

You felt craftly. A little devious, a little sneaky. You'd made yourself a nice little deal, found an arrangement you liked, a little case of "you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours"... sometimes not so metaphorically. Oh, yes, you could feel those well-worn claw marks on your shoulders fire up as if they were new every time you got that little wink-and-a-nod, even worse if it was a not-so-subtle hint dropped in that just slightly broken English: "I zhink it's time for a check-up, it's been too long since your last..."

As had gone the events of earlier in the day. The stoic expression of the base's Medic was marred only by the tiniest, knowing glint in his blue eyes, almost hidden under the dark shadows of sleepless nights and battle-worn days. It made him all the more wonderful, in your own eyes, that unattainable professionalism he so convincingly kept up on a day to day basis. Wunderbar, he might say it. Would say it, as a matter of fact. All these fleeting thoughts rushed through your swimming, excited mind as you made your way - as nonchalantly as you could manage - down the linoleum hallway that ended in the sterile whiteness of the medical room. Although it was early in the day and no one was around just yet, you didn't need to be calling attention to yourself (as well as the Medic) by sprinting to his office with bells on, even if that's what your downstairs was screaming at you to do. Reaching the closed door with the pebbled-glass window, reading the name of your German physician in neat black letters, you stopped yourself as you touched the knob you knew to be unlocked. A small smile touched the corners of your mouth as you rapped a knuckle lightly on the clean glass of the door, asking a question you damn well knew the answer to, simply for the sake of teasing. If there were a man to appreciate such a gesture, this would be the one.

"Doctor? May I come in? Are you busy?" Your voice floated with a certain acoustic through the empty, echoing hallway, as did his response. "Of course not, liebling. Ze door is unlocked. Do come in."

You obeyed quietly, as you had learned to do in his comandeering presence, opening the door with a muffled click and stepping through to see the origin of the voice so gruffly addled with German affluence and vocabulary. Yet another aspect of him you found irresistable. There he sat, facing away, parked stiffly at the desk that also bore his name, scribbling madly away at papers in his almost incomprehensible shorthand that most had learned to adapt to, almost like reading a new language. You closed the door behind you and stood still just a yard or so away, feet together, hands clasped behind your back, looking much like the good child that you had never been in your own adolescence. Medic remained predominantly still, not turning, writing at what seemed like a frantic speed. You cleared your throat in a cliche attempt at getting his much sought after attention, and when that didn't succeed, you spoke up.

"I'm here about my, erm, appointment?..." Your voice trailed away as he stopped writing, turning his head only slightly enough for you to appreciate his grizzled, yet well-kempt (and rather lovely, in your opinion) profile. "I know. I am trying to get some work done. I vant to have some-zhing to show at the end of the day; I presume our scheduled appointment will manage to absorb most of my morning as well as my motivation." He said these things as though they were of no affliction to you, when in reality, they made your heart leap and flutter in anticipation. Medic turned away once more and quietly picked up writing, this time humming to himself a baritone tune of Ich Wollt that caused your muted adoration for him to grow even more, evidencing itself in the heat of your cheeks and the slight upturn in the corners of your mouth.

You wandered a bit, straying to the examination table - affixed to the wall of the small room, a cushy 'mattress' stretched over with a clean pleather covering. Your usual seat. After a few efforts made null by your weakening knees, almost useless with excitement, you hopped up on the table, your legs heaved over the edge in another needlessly childish mannerism. Your attention shifted immediately to Medic as quickly as your heart picked up pounding when he stood up, tidying a stack of paperwork as he did so. A smile, soft and similar to your own, was playing at the man's face - an almost unfamiliar expression on his stern face. His gloved hands, agile and skilled (as you well knew), casually drifted to the tie at the throat of his buttoned collar and loosened it in a relaxed manner. His voice (calming when not ordering you to go right, RIGHT!) cut through the almost palpable, sterile silence in the cramped office as he made the short way over to where you were stationed.

"Ich entschuldige mich for the wait," Medic chimed to you, slipping off his thick white coat in reveal of the still so tidy suspenders and buttoned workshirt beneath it. "I myself can be quite impatient from time to time, but I know how much more you tend to be..." He drifted off, hanging the long coat and crossing his arms in your direction. The tone of his voice was just playful enough to send that familiar shot of electricity down your spine. "Vell, I seem to be stripping already, liebling - vhy don't you follow suit?" Your grin curled into something almost obscene as you heaved an almost releived sigh. "You don't have to tell me twice, Doc," You chided back, going to work at the tricky belt of your pants. He watched contentedly, bemused with your struggling as he almost always seemed to be, holding his chin in a single gloved hand. As your pants finally surrendered and slid down your thighs and beyond your knees, a loose, folded slip of paper tumbled from your pocket with a light tap to the floor. Medic's eyebrows shot up, curious, but not overwhelmingly so. He bent his long frame - he towered over you in means of height - and snatched it up before you could even get down, all of this effortlessly.

"And vhat is this, might I ask? Keeping secrets?" He chuckled at his own joke, but it seemed almost true to you, and your cheeks grew red as he unfolded the note enscribed with your own rushed handwriting. You began to embarrasedly stutter an explanation as his amused eyes shot over the text.

"Well, you know, I don't know German... I mean, I don't know it well... so I wrote down some of the words you've said, and I, uh, I wanted to try to memorize them, to kind of... impress you, I guess..." Your eyes dropped to the floor as he refolded the bilingual note. Unsurprisingly, seeing as the circumstances under which these words were uttered (that is to say, panting, out of breath, or growled), a good majority of them were not the kind you'd say to your mother. Medic's tell-all eyes grew patronizing and repremansive in their gaze towards you. He made a few mocking tsk-tsk sounds as he stepped forward, closing the gap between the both of you.

"Oh, really... I thought I was a good enough teacher in person," He was kidding, but the note of chaste remained. "Zhis is really below you, trying to memorize a slew of what seems to be mostly dirty words just so you could impress the likes of me," He shook his head, once more in mock reprimand. But an idea had blossomed behind that casual vociferation. "Really, now, liebling. It feels as though you are, hm, cheating on a test? Yes, I'll put it like zhat." The gloved hand that held his chin previously now held yours as you looked up at him, watery-eyed and red-faced, pantsless and defenseless although the hold he kept on your jaw felt almost intimate. "And vhat happens to cheaters? Zhey are punished, geliebte." Those pet names he so often used were already common in your limited German vocabulary - little things like darling, beloved. You doubted he truly meant the things those words implied, that he was just peppering his formal speech with something like softeners, but it was better than nothing. And what was this about being punished, now? Your feet shifted uncomfortably, hanging in the air just before his knees.

Medic planted a somewhat abrupt kiss on your forehead, still gripping your chin. He had a penchant for this, kisses anywhere but your mouth, and you had come to enjoy it more than any embrace of lips. The sweetness of it all was leveled by his rough and sudden jerking of your head upward, the cold amusement dancing in his eyes as he spoke. "Come, now. Finish stripping quickly and maybe I'll let up on you - just a bit."

Obedient, you peeled off the remainder of your clothing layers, piling them up almost neatly at the foot of the table, save for your pants, which still lied dejected beneath your feet. The way Medic inspected your naked body was almost, well, medical. As was expected of him. You could feel his observant eyes touching at every point and crook of your exposed flesh, noting every new bruise and scratch, as well as old ones that you could attribute to the doctor himself. The smirk that had once been on his face had long since died in favor of played stoicism.

"Not in the shape I had hoped you would be in," He noted, lightly prodding and grazing several new wounds. Feeling somewhat berated, you spoke up once more.

"A pretty great deal of those are from you," You noted aloud, which Medic full-on smiled at in response. "You are in no standing to be talking back, mein lieber." As he said this, his knuckle brushed harder than before on a very sore bruise. You winced visibly, holding back a startled gasp. You saw the game he was playing, nonetheless. "Point taken, doctor. What kind of punishment am I in for?"

"I am not quite sure yet," He informed you with a certain lackluster inclination, eyes heavily lidded, as though bored. It almost aggrivated you to see. He was inspecting you like a show dog, as well as making you feel like one. "Why don't we start by playing a game of, oh, what is it called? 'Simon Says'. Some variation therein. Do just what I say, just how I say it, when I say 'please'. Do be careful, liebling. I will be sure to start you off easily."

He contemplated his first move as you sat there, naked, afraid, and most of all, anxious for this game of his.

"Now... just down from zhere, quietly, bitte." Luckily for you, that word, 'bitte', tugged at your memory - German for 'please', of course he'd say that. You complied eagerly, hopping down with a soft pat on the floor. Medic seemed pleased with this result. "Sehr gut, my dear! I almost wasn't expecting you to make the first round. Now, let's try another." He thought for a shorter period of time, looking away as he did so, then snapping back to you when he had something. "Give me a little peck on the cheek, if you will, bitte."

You sighed quietly. This would be easier than you thought. And more pleasurable, you added, craning your neck upward to land a kiss on his clean-shaven cheek. Pulling your face away, it was adorned with a smile, as was his. "Wunderbar. Turn around, now, bitte." Still smiling, you did so, only the slightest bit antsy about exposing your previously-hidden rump to him, although it mattered not.

"Ah, you're doing much better than I zhought you would. Could you bend over for me, maybe?" Caught up in your strange pride, you did so, leaning your weight on the table before you caught your own mistake, breath hitching suddenly in your throat. You didn't feel up to getting back up to face him as a dark chuckle emanated from behind you. "Ah, I know you are already aware of your mistake. I do enjoy your enthusiasm, but I most zertainly did not say 'bitte'." There was a lengthy pause, permiated by several telltale sounds - snapping of one rubber glove being removed, the clip of suspenders, a zipper. "It vas a noble attempt on your part, zhough."

Your brain was a muddled fog of slightly illogical fear, excitement, and anticipation as you fleetingly pondered his next move. You no longer had to ponder it as he jerked your head up by your hair, now charicteristically rough. The hand holding your head at such an awkward angle was ungloved, and, quite soon, you realized where that had gone. He held your head near his face, hot breath in your ear, as he used the free hand to loop the length of the long rubber glove around your exposed neck, arched and quivering with frightened breath. Medic hissed into your ear before easing you back down. "Be a good haustier for me, won't you?" The foreign word was alien to you, but you'd soon know the meaning. One hand of his held the rubber collar tight around your neck as the other - ungloved and calloused - found a holding place just above your hip bone and dug in mercilessly. Although your face was away from his, his breathing was now audible, darkly excited and focused. His aim was dead on and his strength undeniable as he rammed into you hard enough for your vision to blossom into stars momentarily.

As your sight came back to, you resisted the urge to crane your neck and peek over your shoulder. All you wanted to do at the time being was sit and enjoy this wondrous abuse of your already bruise-spackled flesh as Medic buried himself up to the hilt in you again and again. Just moments into the act, a whimper of excruciating pleasure escaped your mouth, and to your great surprise, the grip on your neck tightened exponentially and Medic's thrusts came to a grinding halt.

"Ah-ah-ah, liebling," He panted from over your shoulder, bending himself to make his harsh whisper audible. You could feel the drape of his shirt and tie tickling at your back. "Only I get to make any noise here. You are being punished, ja? Zis is time out for you." You began to get lightheaded just as he let up on the grip. So many mistakes you were making that morning. In his own sweet time, Medic picked the pace back up, digging his rough hand even further into the welted flesh at your hips. The moans wanting to escape your tightly-shut mouth were now both those of pleasure and growing pain. It was, in a word...

"Wunderbar," You heard yourself squeak. Medic laughed airily in response, choosing not to tighten his grip this time around. "Glad to hear you... speaking in Deutsche," He growled from above you, his free hand roving from your hip to a wrist of yours, pinning it to the cool pleather of the examination table. The pleasure far outweighed the pain at this point, and you were quite on the edge, incapable of the self control that Medic displayed in his stamina and ability to come to a sudden stop - just as he did when he noticed your writhing and panting becoming more frantic. You resisted the urge to berate him and ask why he stopped. You knew he'd answer that himself without prompt, and he did.

"I don't vant zhis to be a free ride for you," Medic noted, and released a chuckle at his own small pun, "Zhis is just too easy for you, I think. You should beg for me to finish you."

You laid there, dumbfounded, unable to think of a god damn thing to say in response. Your cheek stuck to the sweaty surface below your reeling head and offered no suggestion as to just what to respond with. Medic, quite unsatisfied with your silence, let your rubber restraints go as his gloved hand wandered to your erogenous zones. His slight petting, teasing and prodding, was enough to elicit a frustrated gasp and groan from you.

"Really, now, I am giving you permission to speak. You know ze words. Beg me to continue fucking you, liebling." That pandering tone in his voice, coupled with the gentle encouragement of his skilled hand, was too much to refuse. The words spilled out of your desperate mouth before you knew what you were saying.

"BITTE, doctor! Please! Bitte! I can't... I really..." You searched desparately for the words you needed, locked away in the tiny part of your brain that had transcribed that list of his favorite dirty language in his own language of choice. Finally, you choked it out. "Bitte ... fuck me ... Ich brauche deinen... Schwanz ... bitte!" Although the broken sentence was littered with deep breaths and rather horrid pronunciation, the Medic seemed pleased enough with it, and decided to please you in return.

"Da Sie fragte freundlich..." And, as though starting completely over, began his rythym once more, slowly and suredly, this time pressing his weight entirely upon you and the table. His scent was absolutely intoxicating - the cleanly hints of aftershave and cologne, with undertones of that human scent the both of you were emenating. The heat of it all was opressing and exhilerating at the same time, and, finally, long after you'd expected to, you felt the pressure building up inside your core that signaled your final release. The doctor noted it, too, and panted more requests into your waiting ear.


"Please, with me," He asked, pressuring you to wait just those few short moments before his own climax caught up with you. You did the best you could, and, eager to please him and earn his adoration the same way he had yours, managed to release your final gasp-and-shudder just as his muscles went weak for a split second, synched with the animalistic grunt he emanated as you were filled with the fruit both your labors. Even after this wonderful moment, he remained inside you, your rapidly expanding lungs heaving the weight of his chest up and down as you both caught your collective breath. After what seemed like an intimate, pleasant eternity, Medic pulled himself up and slid out of you, leaving you cold as he redressed himself, you naked but for his glove draped around your neck like a gaudy lecklace.

For the first time in simulated hours, you turned your head to look at the man behind you, throwing his coat back on over his re-kempt work clothes, humming that same song from before, content and almost glowing. It made you proud and beyond happy. And to think you had been just slightly fearing his actions before now. You lazily pulled yourself up from the table to dress yourself, watching the Medic with some strange interest as you did so. Fully clothed, for a crazy split second, you considered taking the abandoned glove back to your room with you, like a college boy might take his date's panties, but reason got the better of you. Smiling, you sheepishly got up, holding the glove in your hand, to return it to its rightful owner. Medic took it in one hand and, with the other, pulled your head close to him, leaving a saccharine kiss on your temple.

"Bittle, liebling."

>>207

That was AMAZING. Kinky the entire way through, freakin' awesome.

>>207

And again Lolo, that was fantastic! I, for one, will never get tired of reading your stories. What a great way to start the day.

A &You fiction with one teammemeber from the Nucleas Incident fictions or Harvest. (I believe this would still be TF2 related?)

well, I could still go for more youxScout and youxSniper?

>>208 >>209
Aw, you're making me blush. TEE HEE.
Any suggestions as to what next? I had a set list but I'm just not down for that right now. My attention span is everywhere.

Sniper? Oh god give me a Sniper! :D

Why this thread looks so dead?

Would love some more tentaspy~

Dont die thread! Your too awesome to die!!

come baaack!

LIIIVEEEEE!!!

/////>U</////

I blushed....

////>u<////

reading this has been the best 4 hours of my life. need more Scout/You, DESPERATELY.

Couldn't agree more

I've been monitoring (and occasionally giving feedback) this thread since >>82

Bumping what seems to be a long-forgotten thread of gold.

For the love of god, bumping like the fist of the north star!! This needs more love!

oh pleeeeease someone write another. needs moar Scout and Demo.

Autosaging. New thread? Anyone have anything that hasn't been posted to start it off?

Bumping back to life... I hope

I fucking love this thread. Hopefully it'll come back to life, or someone'll make a new one...Sadly, I have no fanfics to contribute.

DON'T YOU 404 ON MEEEE!

DON'T GO!

I miss this thread so much

Looks like someone who wants to

THREAD COME BAACCCKKK

OH GAWD

Please please please let this thread live.
It's too amazing to die. ;_;

Why is it leaving?!

Come on people think of something otherwise I WILL. And I can't write to save my life!!

Alright fine,how about another Scout x you fic? I like those. JUST GET THIS THREAD UP AGAIN!

This board. Me gusta.

If only I could contribute, but alas, I cannot.

I saw a Scout x you on here before that wasn't completed, so I'll just post the rest here.


Scout And You DuskZephyr 09/07/27(Mon)20:47 No. 1716
First time writing this sort of thing, so be gentle. I know another Scout/You was written really recently but I started this before I saw that and I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit around on this. It builds up slowly but don't worry, I'm already working on the next part and it will eventually lead to porn.

It always stuck me as a bit weird that most of the Class/You fics went from friendship/sexual tension to immediate sex. Not that I'm complaining but I'm gonna take this one slow and warm up to it. =)

Also 5AM fuck the title. Might come up with something better but honestly, right now can't get a damn.

---------------------------------

It was good to have a day off. /‘Especially a day off with Scout’/ you think, walking out onto the battlements with him. Both of you are carrying bats and he has a few baseballs with him too.
“Alright.” He announces, stuffing most of the balls into his pockets, keeping one and passing you another as he gives you a cocky smirk. “Whoever breaks the least windows has to try and get Spy’s mask off!” You give him a confident smile.
“Hope you’ve been training then, he’ll kill you if he catches you!” Scout gives a cute chuckle, throwing his ball in the air and catching it with one hand.
“Please! You’re the one who’s gonna have to avoid that sneaky bastard after you pull it off.”

This little bet of yours was born after discovering that nobody on the base had seen him with the stupid thing off. You knew the rest of the team had mixed feelings towards the two of you being loose at the same time - On the plus side, Scout wouldn’t bother them by complaining about being bored and you wouldn’t be wandering aimlessly around; On the down side, they were more likely to be harassed by the two of you pulling off what they thought were ‘stupid stunts’. But it wasn’t stupid to replace all of Demomans booze with water, it just showed to Scout that you were right and that Demoman did taste his alcohol. Just as this wasn’t stupid either. You’d smash some windows, hopefully piss off the enemy and try to see Spy without his mask on.

Anyway, time to show Scout who was a better shot with a bat and a ball. You really didn’t want to lose this bet, no matter how eager you were to see Spy mask-less. The athletic runner steps forward to take the first shot, swinging effortlessly. It’s not bad, you note: It’s smashed through one of the higher windows. You’re up and, hiding some nerves, toss up your own ball and give it a good whack. You hear him hum as it breaks one of the lower windows.
“Not bad. But watch how it’s really done.” You snort slightly and shake your head. He looks over his shoulder, giving you another smug grin before turning back to business.

It goes back and forth for a while, just the two of you taunting and teasing each other with the sounds of bats connecting with balls and shattering glass interrupting your conversation at regular intervals. He’s winning and you both know it. Scout uses a bat daily for bashing skulls and dazing opponents with amazing precision so there’s no way he’d lose at this. But watching him work is a good payoff. His body tightens as he curls up for the swing, uncoiling rapidly to strike the ball with ease and speed. It’s a beautiful thing but you’re careful to not get too distracted or to stare. Last thing you need is for him to catch on that you’re admiring his ass as he takes aim.

It’s your turn again and there’s no way you can make up the difference now. But who cares? Neither of you are stopping until you’re both out of ammo. You pick your target and pull back your arm, trying to mimic the way Scout does it. You launch the projectile at another low window, congratulating yourself when it flies straight through the windowpane, Scout nodding and looking pleased with your shot. However, a thud and a booming cry from the other base makes you both freeze.
“DOCTOR!”

The enemy Heavy appears at the window you just broke, looking for the source of the ball. Evidently, you just gave their Medic a ‘slight’ bump on the head. He sees you and Scout and begins to shout loudly. You back away slightly but Scout laughs and mocks him, and you can’t help but catch some of his confidence as you stand next to him.
“What now, fatass? Gonna try shooting at us from down there?”

You can’t help but laugh with Scout as the Heavy shouts both insults at the two of you and cries for help for his Medic. Unfortunately, it’s at this point when the Heavy is joined at the broken window by other members of his team – namely, the Pyro, Demoman and Sniper. As the Sniper pulls out his rifle and starts taking aim, the little dot sweeping towards yours and Scouts foreheads, you decide it’s a good idea to leave. Quickly. Luckily Scout isn’t stupid and comes to the same conclusion as you, the two of you grabbing each other’s wrists at the same time and bolting into the base.

He pulls you slightly since he’s faster than you and neither of you stop until you reach the safety of the spacious kitchen. At this point you nearly fall to the floor, doubled over with exhaustion from both running and laughing like a hyena. He’s no better, leaning on one of the counters and trembling with mirth. You touch his shoulder, trying to stand up properly yourself when he turns and leans on you now. So the two of you are hunched over, using each other for support, shaking and sniggering. Your arm has slid from his shoulder to curl around his waist while he has his rounded over your shoulders.

Eventually you both calm down, breathing deeply. You suddenly frown and look up at him, dropping your hand from around his waist.
“It really wasn’t that funny, was it?” You ask, realising that it was hilarious to take out a dozen or so windows and a Medic but it probably shouldn’t have yielded tears of laughter. Scout straightens, keeping his arm in place as you look up at him.
“Nah, maybe not.” He breathes, correcting his cap and headset.

He gives you a coy smile, leaning slightly down to you. “You know, this means you’ve lost the bet.”
“No way!” You protest competitively. “The Medic easily makes up for the other windows!”
“No dice! We agreed it was windows broken, not including skulls!” He holds you slightly closer and leans over you.
“Aw, c’mon! If you’d done it, it would count!” You prop yourself onto tiptoes to try and match his height.
“Hey, I wouldn’t need it to count!”

You frown at him, annoyed that he’s right. And he knows that so he’s smirking at you. And he’s really close now – you can feel his breath over your top lip, smell his earthy skin, feel the warmth of his body. You hover like that for a few moments, unable to retort. Then the stupid attractive smirk and stupid close proximity gets to you so you grab his shirt and kiss him. Which is probably a stupid move.

Only it turns out it isn’t. He freezes for a few moments, then makes a low noise and wraps his other arm around your waist, returning your kiss. He’s surprisingly gentle but his enthusiasm is obvious as he tries to figure out how to do this. You smile softly and gradually toy with his lips, learning with him to find out what’s fun and what isn’t.

Catching his bottom lip in a gentle nip gets a positive response, as he pulls you closer still and presses into you. When he licks your lips you exhale in a tiny gasp, one hand sliding form his shirt to the back of his head. You tilt your head instinctively, licking back shyly. Spontaneous actions seem best as you certainly don’t argue or resist when his tongue slips inside your slack mouth. As you begin to play with his tongue using your own, you taste him. He tastes sugary, and of something else...

But before you can identify that something else, you hear someone approaching. You pull away from Scout hurriedly and notice he has a blush to match your own as Soldier storms in. And he’s pretty pissed off.
“You maggots better explain why the enemy convict is taking aim at us through the windows!!”

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Sunset always looks best from the rooftop. That, and next to no-one knows you’re up here. You’ve been sunning yourself up here for a while now, possibly an hour or so, and haven’t been found yet. It’s nice to have some peace and quiet for a bit, especially after a long day of strategic planning and pouring over intelligence. Which was basically Soldier shouting in your face and throwing papers at you. You hear footsteps over your shoulder and sit up, looking behind you.

It’s Scout, his dog tags gleaming in the sun. The surroundings really make his features look striking, the dying sun bathing him in a flattering warm glow. You smile softly, your eyes tracing over your favourite parts of him and there’s a lot of choice there – cute nose, pouty lips, firm chest, slender hands, curved back, defined backside, long legs. You could easily start fantasizing right now but he’s right there. What would be the point? Besides, he’s already seen you and flopping down beside you.
“Hey,” he says, getting comfortable and flashing you a smile, leaning towards you. “I was wondering where you were.”
“Why?” You ask casually. Instead of answering, he catches the back of your head, pulling you close and kissing you passionately.

Sweet. In every possible meaning of the word.

You’re glad the two of you got along before you started this sort of thing. It reduced the time spent trying to get to know each other, drawing temporary boundaries and making up a bunch of rules about how to act in certain situations; the usual crap that had to be dealt with when dating someone. Instead the two of you had simple understandings. Acting mushy on the battlefield was asking to get shot, set alight, backstabbed, etcetera. Snide jokes about your relationship resulted in attempted acts of violence from Scout, often foiled by yours or Engies efforts to hold him back.

And impromptu hugs, kisses and general embraces are to be expected at any time during ceasefire. He shifts, one hand running to your side and holding you there and pressing closer. You turn to face him, tilting your head, sliding one arm around his back and tracing idle circles on his chest with your fingers. His body is always so warm. The two of you nestle close together, the kiss breaking into soft, repeated lip touches. Not really kisses, just the two of you pulling close and sharing breaths, nuzzling noses. Until someone gets impatient and dives forward for another real kiss. It’s always this way with Scout. He’s not a man for half measures - the all or nothing type.

Finally the two of you separate. Turns out the underlying taste behind the sugar was the unique flavour of ‘energetic Bostonian‘; a blend of zests and spices that can’t be recreated artificially. Scout looks...not so smug for once. He isn’t trying to be the tough guy right now, he’s just a guy who’s been kissed and is revelling in the moment. He’s still holding you close as you sit in his lap, tucking your head under his as he glances at the last sliver of sun sink under the horizon.
“Heh. Kinda pretty. This why you were up here?” You nod slightly, still drawing on chest with a feather touch as his fingers skim your side and inhaling his scent as you feel his breath in your hair. It’s rare for him to be so calm, so it’s best to take advantage before he challenges you to another round of “who-can-drop-the-most-innuendo-into-casual-conversation-before-the-rest-of-the-team-notices”.

Turns out he had completely different plans as his hand slips down your side and into new territory. More specifically, onto your ass. You look up at Scout, not dislodging yourself from comfort of his lap or shifting away from his hand. If he’s nervous, he’s coating it over with his usual cocky attitude.
“Like that?” he asks bluntly, beginning to firmly squeeze with a relaxed yet smug look. You feel heat rise to your cheeks at such a forward move. You may have started it by kissing him after the baseball incident but there’s no denying that this was much bolder. Much, much bolder.

But not bad. Not bad at all. Sure, you’re a bit flushed because it’s unexpected and he’s groping your backside. It’s not like its painful and you’ve dreamt of far worse scenarios. So, with a small smile you slip your hands under his shirt, splaying the fingers over his chest and drumming slightly.
“Maybe.” You say playfully. He grins confidently, evidently pleased with your response, but there’s a hint of determination there.
“Maybe?” He asks, his other hand snaking beneath your shirt and up your back. You shiver slightly as his cool hand strokes your heated back, urging you close. You know what he wants you to say. And you know there’s no shame in giving him what he wants, at least this time. Your noses are touching now and his gaze feels like he’s trying to seep into your mind, to find out if you really do want this.
“Yeah…I do like it.”

All his features light up in eagerness, as he pulls you in for a kiss. You can feel his smile as your lips are pressed together, before the kiss opens naturally. His hands are openly curious but there’s a hint of carefulness in his movements as he follows your lead and slips his hands under your shirt. He maps your body as you continue to stroke and rub his chest lightly, one hand reaching to graze the muscles on his back. You close your eyes, trying to focus only on how he’s touching you and the feel of him under your own fingertips.

His fingers nimbly scurry on your skin; still delightfully cool as they dart over your chest, around you back, across your stomach. You gasp slightly as one digit dives into your belly button before retreating hastily. You’re both humming, the kiss slackening as you both forget about it to concentrate on the primary task here. You’re both experimenting but your tops are getting in the way. You pull away from him slightly, tugging at the fabric over your hands and jerking it off him. His dog tags jingle as they slip out of the collar and fall against his lean torso. You barely get a moment to admire it before he’s repaying the favour, yanking roughly at the fabric you wear.

It all comes off (with thankfully few rips) and the two of you end up just staring at each other for a few moments. It’s gotten darker now, the sun disappeared ages ago. His eyes are a bit wide as he shamelessly absorbs your bare chest, making you feel self-conscious. You shift slightly, beginning to consider grabbing your discarded when he quickly grabs your arm and tilts your head up so you’re looking him in the eye. His expression is earnest and he’s a bit tongue-tied for some reason.
“You look great. Really great. No, actually, better then great. I mean, you look...” Realising that this could go on for a while, you smile with relief and kiss them quick and hard.

“Same to you.” You whisper against his ear, hands freely roaming over the exposed skin, tracing wide patterns over his shoulders and down his back. You hear him cutely chuckle as he nestles against your neck, beginning to eagerly kiss and suck. You gasp softly. That was unexpected. His hands curl around you, rubbing your sides as they slip lower. Your own hands follow suit, fingers circling his belt. As his hands dip under your trousers, slender digits drumming between underwear and outerwear... There’s a buzzing noise from the headset he’s still wearing, followed by the sound of Engineer’s voice.
“Boy? You there?”

You immediately blush and let yourself slump forward with a little groan as Scout swears, snapping his head up in irritation. Had that thing been on the entire time?
“Engie...this better be fucking good man.” The two of you separate as Engie affirms that, yes; it is ‘fucking good’ and requires Scouts presence as soon as possible. He also asks if you’ve been seen (looks like he didn’t hear anything) since Medic needs to see you about something. With a sigh, you redress and Scout throws on his shirt. He couldn’t look any angrier then if a Spy had run off with both the Intel and his lucky bat, still cursing and furiously raving about the interruption.

You shake your head, used to his antics and turn him to face you. Slipping a hand just under his collar, you find his dog tags and jerk him gently forward into a soft kiss. He cools slightly under your lips, relaxing into the kiss and holding you close. The two of you part and walk together to the hatch leading into the base, casually talking about what Engie might need Scout for that’s so important and why Medic needs you. He puts an arm around you and you return the gesture, the two of you leaning slightly against each other.

Privately, you make a resolution. Next time you’re making sure that no-one can interrupt, via headset, in person or by any other means. You would consider kicking Engie’s ass too, but Scout has that thought covered. As always.

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To say that today had not been good was a huge understatement.

You had been woken up by the alarm system. There was an enemy wave approaching - at half three in the damn morning. Halfway through the fight it began to rain, turning the landscape into a pit of mud. The enemy Spy seemed to take a liking to your identity so you ended up taking the brunt of the various Spy-checking routines in the team. And, it was Monday. Whether it being Monday encouraged all of the above or if it was just a coincidence, you didn’t really care. Fact was, today was Monday, it had been awful and it was only going to get better when it was over.

You’re currently reclining on the couch in the small rumpus room. Scout is slumped next to you, head lolled back, with Demo and Sniper drinking by the small bar in the corner. Scout makes a low groaning noise, which raises a small smile from you as you shift to face him better.
“That...sucked.” he declared. As if it needed saying.
“Cannot agree more.” You sigh, watching dreamily as he stretches out. He puts an arm around you as he sinks back into the sofa, looking over to the drinking duo. They’re getting up to leave. Demo is truly smashed – his speech is a slur which keeps alternating in volume and he has to rely on Sniper to walk, who is only mildly tipsy. Sniper tips his hat to you both as he leaves, muttering goodnight. You return the sentiment as Scout waves a hand in acknowledgement.

Scout leans forward from the settee, hunching over his knees. He isn’t tired, just fed up from how crappy today has been. You give him a kiss on the cheek and begin to rise.
“C’mon. Might as-“ You lurch forward as he grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him, giving you a sound kiss and slipping an arm around your back. You quickly return it, feeling a little of the tension from the morning loosen. You can feel his stress ease slightly too, but he’s still more tightly wound up than you. He grips you tightly, muttering against your lips in between increasingly heated and open kisses.
“Fucking Spy, trying to act like you. Fucker couldn’t even get your accent right...”

You’ve settled into his lap by now, straddling him as your hands curl around him. One reaches up and toys with his seldom seen hair. The strands you thread your fingers through are surprisingly soft. Scout hums as you play with it, pulling away from your lips to lock eyes with you. The hand that had grabbed your wrist now slides up to your cheek, rubbing it with his knuckles. You tilt slightly to the touch but it isn’t long before the hand reaches behind you to rest at the top of your neck, pressing your head towards his. You don’t resist and meet his lips eagerly, the kisses opening now so your tongues can play. The taste of him is so familiar now but you can’t help savouring it every time you press your tongue to his.

He’s energetic, both in your mouth and with his hands. They begin to roam over you and as they scurry under your shirt, you know where this is going. He’s impatient (maybe he’s still a bit testy from the battle?) and pulls away hastily, making it clear that he wants you undressed by forcefully pulling at your clothing. You help him and reach for his top, taking it off with equal speed and throwing it next to his headset. Both of you are topless and as he dives forward to re-engage the kiss your bare chests press against each other, his cool set of dog tags trapped between warm skin. You push forward, loving the way your warm bodies flare at the points of contact as he pushes back, trying to get closer if it was possible.

As one hand reaches behind you to grip your backside again, Scout fumbles around momentarily until his other finds your hand. As he holds it, he begins to mimic the movements of his tongue, drawing circles and darting around your fingers as his tongue flits around yours. You melt slightly, kissing him hard and holding his hand tightly. You loop your arm up his back to snake your hands into his locks. The hand on your butt reactively squeezes, causing you to squirm slightly. Your skin rubs against his, heating up. The kiss breaks as you both need to breathe, Scout inhaling harsh but shakily.

“Fuck.” He gasps. Before you can smirk at the effect this is having on him, he suddenly thrusts his arms around you. He leans forward, easing you onto your back. Or trying to – the move would’ve been smoothly executed had you both been on the floor, rather than on the sofa. Instead you end up tumbling backwards, landing with a slight thud. Scout’s dragged down with you as you hold onto him to try and correct your balance. He makes a sudden noise of surprise at the unexpected drop, crouched over you with his head next to yours. He quickly untangles his arms from under you, using them to push himself up so he’s hovering over you. His eyes are a bit wide, clearly thinking that you might have hit your head. “Oh man, are you okay?”

His expression is totally adorable, as is the question. You can’t help but laugh gently at his expression, relaxing your hold on him.
“I’m fine.” You brush aside his concern and meet him for another eager kiss, tongues entwining the moment your lips touch. You bring one hand from around his back to rub his toned arm, his hands scooting over your torso. He traces abstract patterns as you lazily stroke the curve of his spine, pushing on his lower body so it presses against you. You break the kiss by sitting up slightly, noticing that his fingers are dancing closer and closer to the top of your trousers.

He‘s holding your gaze, that infamous lazy smirk in place. Evidently his confidence returned, bringing his ego with it.
“Want a hand?” he asks, his bold nature seeping through as he hooks a finger in the fabric. You give him a smile of your own, hands lowering from his body.
“No.” He looks abashed and uncertain, not sure what to say. But when you pull your clothing down yourself, baring all, his eyes widen in surprise and a faint blush streaks across his cheeks. He gulps, stuttering out half-formed words, staring at your nude lower half before meeting your eyes again. You’re still smiling innocently at him, throwing aside the garments. “Do you?” Your hands reach for his hips, tapping at the belt there.

Scout stares at you wonderingly for a moment before regaining his verve and kneeling upright. He rips open his belt and shimmies his pants down and off. As he undresses he never looks away from your eyes and it makes your shudder within your skin. The look he is giving you is one of bold want. Your eyes flit from that expression to what he’s uncovering, a blush slowly blooming on your cheeks - he’s hard. You begin to tentatively reach for it as he struggles to remove his shoes and socks without shifting from his position over you, swearing and looking at his feet. When your fingers brush against the flushed skin he jerks as if shocked by static electricity.
“Fuck.” He gasps, hands twitching and tugging violently at his clothing to get it off.

Finally you’re both naked, Scout kneeling in between your thighs. Your hand is still lightly touching him, ghosting over the hot flesh. He shakily swears again, eyes rolling upwards and fluttering shut as you grip him properly, squeezing softly. With a sharp cry he shoots forward, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you back onto the hard floor. The unexpected movement and surprisingly cold floor makes you emit a squeak of surprise. He lifts one hand from your shoulder, quickly reaching down to touch you.

His hand is openly curious in its movements, twisting at the wrist as those lithe fingers stroke and curl. You twitch and gasp initially but he quickly finds out what makes your body heat flare. You arch and squirm, your voice running away from your mouth as he tries to repeat the actions that make you carry the most pitch in your cries. The hand you have around him involuntarily squeezes in time with your pleasure until you become aware of it. You start to pump him slowly but steadily. A string of complimentary curses bubbles from him as he sags slightly above you, leaning heavily on his free hand to stay upright.

Scout looks you in the eyes, his hand still moving. He’s quite flushed, a faint sheen of sweat beginning to coat his skin. As he presses on a sweet spot, making you shudder and moan his name, he leans close to you so his lips hover by your ear.
“You look fucking amazing. I mean, you look good all the time but...shit.” He groans as you gently tug, thumb circling the head. His head drops slightly, so his forehead rests on your shoulder. “Fuck, I want you.” You can feel his breath on your hot skin, his fingers making you feel only hotter as they work.
“I want you too.” You breathe, adjusting yourself so you can nuzzle into his neck. He smells great – musky and earthy.

He lifts himself up, removing the hand pleasuring you (making you whine at the loss of sensation) and placing it over your hand, on his erection. He prepares himself hurriedly, your hands slipping away together as he slowly pushes himself in. Scout doesn’t attempt to keep quiet, loudly moaning as he eases himself in. He places his hands either side of your head, his eyes closed blissfully but his face contorted with concentration. You let out a low, husky groan yourself as you feel him push deeper inside you, your body easing to him. You see his mouth forming words but none of them are directed at you. You lean up in time to catch him muttering what sounds like a collection of scores - probably baseball, knowing him. Deciding that you’d rather have his full attention, you softly bite and suck at the neck exposed before you.

He shudders and swears throatily, his hips jerking out of his control. One arm curls around you, the other still holding him up as he begins to thrust, building momentum. You rock your hips to meet his, placing a hand to the back of his neck as you keep tasting delicious, sweaty skin. His dog tags dance over your skin as the two of you move against each other, a refreshing spot of cold in the blaze of hot skin.

It’s not completely comfortable of course. Hard floors aren’t designed for comfort and nobody was thinking that anyone would have sex on such a surface. You’re both a bit clumsy too, not used to each other’s bodies in this position, so it takes a while to establish a rhythm. But it’s still fun and enjoyable, especially as Scout isn’t the quiet type. He loudly moans and cries out, listing things he loves about you, how hot you are and all the things he’d love to do to you. When you hit a certain spot, just where his shoulder and neck join, his hips twitch erratically and his pitch becomes higher.

He pushes you down quickly, and kisses you on the lips, tongue darting in the moment you open your mouth to gasp at the sudden movement. It’s all piling up on you – every spot of contact, the sleek movement of sweaty, flushed skin, his rapid thrusts into your welcoming body and his unrelenting kiss. Your toes curl from pleasure, eagerly returning the messy kiss as sparks jolt through your nerves. With his lips on yours, the sound of skin against skin becomes audible, no longer drowned out by you and Scout noisily expressing your pleasures.

Suddenly, a flash of white blocks your vision as a wave of heat sears your lower body. You loudly cry out, grabbing hold of him tightly. He doesn’t stop, instead looking at your rapture flushed face. He can’t seem to form words anymore, limited to groans, grunts and cries to articulate his satisfaction. As the wave ebbs, he hits that spot again, causing you to tighten around him and cry out in a soprano pitch. It goes on like this – he can’t find it with every thrust but when he does, it sends a wave of hot pleasure through your body. You can’t help but shudder as he drives faster and faster, erratically finding that place in you that...

You can’t control the volume anymore as you arch against him, getting breathless now. You loosen and lean back slightly, wanting to see him. Scout’s so sweaty now, his bright blue eyes dilated and his face a portrait of ecstasy; so handsome, as always. He presses against you firmly, those dog tags only just being to absorb the warmth radiating from the two of you. You can feel how tense he is in your hold, slipping towards the edge. Quite abruptly he arches, shouting your name loudly as he comes, thrusting instinctively.

You twist under him, striking orgasm as you hear him call out your name in that blissful, primal tone. You cry out his name in kind, panting breathlessly, liquid heat flooding your system. Scout flops gracelessly on top of you, knocking the last of your breath out of you. The two of you stay like that, sticky with sweat and breathing deeply, as your bodies cool slightly, coming down from the high. He rolls slightly to the side, looking at you adoringly.
“Fucking...unbelievable.” he says sleepily. Tiredness must be kicking in now. “Gotta do that again...” he trails off, pulling you close and nuzzling you as he suddenly falls asleep, snoring gently.

You smile and shake your head. Typical Scout. You look up at the door, debating forcing Scout to get up and go to his room for the night. You didn’t really like the idea of being found naked in the morning and the two of you didn’t have a good track record for being uninterrupted. However, he was like a rock when he slept and might find it offensive. Finally, you settle on prying yourself from his hold to quickly lock the door shut. Returning to him, you snuggle up against his warm body, allowing sleep to overcome you.

Tomorrow will be a good day. You just know it.

I saw a Scout x you on here before that wasn't completed, so I'll just post the rest here.


Scout And You DuskZephyr 09/07/27(Mon)20:47 No. 1716
First time writing this sort of thing, so be gentle. I know another Scout/You was written really recently but I started this before I saw that and I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit around on this. It builds up slowly but don't worry, I'm already working on the next part and it will eventually lead to porn.

It always stuck me as a bit weird that most of the Class/You fics went from friendship/sexual tension to immediate sex. Not that I'm complaining but I'm gonna take this one slow and warm up to it. =)

Also 5AM fuck the title. Might come up with something better but honestly, right now can't get a damn.

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It was good to have a day off. /‘Especially a day off with Scout’/ you think, walking out onto the battlements with him. Both of you are carrying bats and he has a few baseballs with him too.
“Alright.” He announces, stuffing most of the balls into his pockets, keeping one and passing you another as he gives you a cocky smirk. “Whoever breaks the least windows has to try and get Spy’s mask off!” You give him a confident smile.
“Hope you’ve been training then, he’ll kill you if he catches you!” Scout gives a cute chuckle, throwing his ball in the air and catching it with one hand.
“Please! You’re the one who’s gonna have to avoid that sneaky bastard after you pull it off.”

This little bet of yours was born after discovering that nobody on the base had seen him with the stupid thing off. You knew the rest of the team had mixed feelings towards the two of you being loose at the same time - On the plus side, Scout wouldn’t bother them by complaining about being bored and you wouldn’t be wandering aimlessly around; On the down side, they were more likely to be harassed by the two of you pulling off what they thought were ‘stupid stunts’. But it wasn’t stupid to replace all of Demomans booze with water, it just showed to Scout that you were right and that Demoman did taste his alcohol. Just as this wasn’t stupid either. You’d smash some windows, hopefully piss off the enemy and try to see Spy without his mask on.

Anyway, time to show Scout who was a better shot with a bat and a ball. You really didn’t want to lose this bet, no matter how eager you were to see Spy mask-less. The athletic runner steps forward to take the first shot, swinging effortlessly. It’s not bad, you note: It’s smashed through one of the higher windows. You’re up and, hiding some nerves, toss up your own ball and give it a good whack. You hear him hum as it breaks one of the lower windows.
“Not bad. But watch how it’s really done.” You snort slightly and shake your head. He looks over his shoulder, giving you another smug grin before turning back to business.

It goes back and forth for a while, just the two of you taunting and teasing each other with the sounds of bats connecting with balls and shattering glass interrupting your conversation at regular intervals. He’s winning and you both know it. Scout uses a bat daily for bashing skulls and dazing opponents with amazing precision so there’s no way he’d lose at this. But watching him work is a good payoff. His body tightens as he curls up for the swing, uncoiling rapidly to strike the ball with ease and speed. It’s a beautiful thing but you’re careful to not get too distracted or to stare. Last thing you need is for him to catch on that you’re admiring his ass as he takes aim.

It’s your turn again and there’s no way you can make up the difference now. But who cares? Neither of you are stopping until you’re both out of ammo. You pick your target and pull back your arm, trying to mimic the way Scout does it. You launch the projectile at another low window, congratulating yourself when it flies straight through the windowpane, Scout nodding and looking pleased with your shot. However, a thud and a booming cry from the other base makes you both freeze.
“DOCTOR!”

The enemy Heavy appears at the window you just broke, looking for the source of the ball. Evidently, you just gave their Medic a ‘slight’ bump on the head. He sees you and Scout and begins to shout loudly. You back away slightly but Scout laughs and mocks him, and you can’t help but catch some of his confidence as you stand next to him.
“What now, fatass? Gonna try shooting at us from down there?”

You can’t help but laugh with Scout as the Heavy shouts both insults at the two of you and cries for help for his Medic. Unfortunately, it’s at this point when the Heavy is joined at the broken window by other members of his team – namely, the Pyro, Demoman and Sniper. As the Sniper pulls out his rifle and starts taking aim, the little dot sweeping towards yours and Scouts foreheads, you decide it’s a good idea to leave. Quickly. Luckily Scout isn’t stupid and comes to the same conclusion as you, the two of you grabbing each other’s wrists at the same time and bolting into the base.

He pulls you slightly since he’s faster than you and neither of you stop until you reach the safety of the spacious kitchen. At this point you nearly fall to the floor, doubled over with exhaustion from both running and laughing like a hyena. He’s no better, leaning on one of the counters and trembling with mirth. You touch his shoulder, trying to stand up properly yourself when he turns and leans on you now. So the two of you are hunched over, using each other for support, shaking and sniggering. Your arm has slid from his shoulder to curl around his waist while he has his rounded over your shoulders.

Eventually you both calm down, breathing deeply. You suddenly frown and look up at him, dropping your hand from around his waist.
“It really wasn’t that funny, was it?” You ask, realising that it was hilarious to take out a dozen or so windows and a Medic but it probably shouldn’t have yielded tears of laughter. Scout straightens, keeping his arm in place as you look up at him.
“Nah, maybe not.” He breathes, correcting his cap and headset.

He gives you a coy smile, leaning slightly down to you. “You know, this means you’ve lost the bet.”
“No way!” You protest competitively. “The Medic easily makes up for the other windows!”
“No dice! We agreed it was windows broken, not including skulls!” He holds you slightly closer and leans over you.
“Aw, c’mon! If you’d done it, it would count!” You prop yourself onto tiptoes to try and match his height.
“Hey, I wouldn’t need it to count!”

You frown at him, annoyed that he’s right. And he knows that so he’s smirking at you. And he’s really close now – you can feel his breath over your top lip, smell his earthy skin, feel the warmth of his body. You hover like that for a few moments, unable to retort. Then the stupid attractive smirk and stupid close proximity gets to you so you grab his shirt and kiss him. Which is probably a stupid move.

Only it turns out it isn’t. He freezes for a few moments, then makes a low noise and wraps his other arm around your waist, returning your kiss. He’s surprisingly gentle but his enthusiasm is obvious as he tries to figure out how to do this. You smile softly and gradually toy with his lips, learning with him to find out what’s fun and what isn’t.

Catching his bottom lip in a gentle nip gets a positive response, as he pulls you closer still and presses into you. When he licks your lips you exhale in a tiny gasp, one hand sliding form his shirt to the back of his head. You tilt your head instinctively, licking back shyly. Spontaneous actions seem best as you certainly don’t argue or resist when his tongue slips inside your slack mouth. As you begin to play with his tongue using your own, you taste him. He tastes sugary, and of something else...

But before you can identify that something else, you hear someone approaching. You pull away from Scout hurriedly and notice he has a blush to match your own as Soldier storms in. And he’s pretty pissed off.
“You maggots better explain why the enemy convict is taking aim at us through the windows!!”

----------------------------------------------------------

Sunset always looks best from the rooftop. That, and next to no-one knows you’re up here. You’ve been sunning yourself up here for a while now, possibly an hour or so, and haven’t been found yet. It’s nice to have some peace and quiet for a bit, especially after a long day of strategic planning and pouring over intelligence. Which was basically Soldier shouting in your face and throwing papers at you. You hear footsteps over your shoulder and sit up, looking behind you.

It’s Scout, his dog tags gleaming in the sun. The surroundings really make his features look striking, the dying sun bathing him in a flattering warm glow. You smile softly, your eyes tracing over your favourite parts of him and there’s a lot of choice there – cute nose, pouty lips, firm chest, slender hands, curved back, defined backside, long legs. You could easily start fantasizing right now but he’s right there. What would be the point? Besides, he’s already seen you and flopping down beside you.
“Hey,” he says, getting comfortable and flashing you a smile, leaning towards you. “I was wondering where you were.”
“Why?” You ask casually. Instead of answering, he catches the back of your head, pulling you close and kissing you passionately.

Sweet. In every possible meaning of the word.

You’re glad the two of you got along before you started this sort of thing. It reduced the time spent trying to get to know each other, drawing temporary boundaries and making up a bunch of rules about how to act in certain situations; the usual crap that had to be dealt with when dating someone. Instead the two of you had simple understandings. Acting mushy on the battlefield was asking to get shot, set alight, backstabbed, etcetera. Snide jokes about your relationship resulted in attempted acts of violence from Scout, often foiled by yours or Engies efforts to hold him back.

And impromptu hugs, kisses and general embraces are to be expected at any time during ceasefire. He shifts, one hand running to your side and holding you there and pressing closer. You turn to face him, tilting your head, sliding one arm around his back and tracing idle circles on his chest with your fingers. His body is always so warm. The two of you nestle close together, the kiss breaking into soft, repeated lip touches. Not really kisses, just the two of you pulling close and sharing breaths, nuzzling noses. Until someone gets impatient and dives forward for another real kiss. It’s always this way with Scout. He’s not a man for half measures - the all or nothing type.

Finally the two of you separate. Turns out the underlying taste behind the sugar was the unique flavour of ‘energetic Bostonian‘; a blend of zests and spices that can’t be recreated artificially. Scout looks...not so smug for once. He isn’t trying to be the tough guy right now, he’s just a guy who’s been kissed and is revelling in the moment. He’s still holding you close as you sit in his lap, tucking your head under his as he glances at the last sliver of sun sink under the horizon.
“Heh. Kinda pretty. This why you were up here?” You nod slightly, still drawing on chest with a feather touch as his fingers skim your side and inhaling his scent as you feel his breath in your hair. It’s rare for him to be so calm, so it’s best to take advantage before he challenges you to another round of “who-can-drop-the-most-innuendo-into-casual-conversation-before-the-rest-of-the-team-notices”.

Turns out he had completely different plans as his hand slips down your side and into new territory. More specifically, onto your ass. You look up at Scout, not dislodging yourself from comfort of his lap or shifting away from his hand. If he’s nervous, he’s coating it over with his usual cocky attitude.
“Like that?” he asks bluntly, beginning to firmly squeeze with a relaxed yet smug look. You feel heat rise to your cheeks at such a forward move. You may have started it by kissing him after the baseball incident but there’s no denying that this was much bolder. Much, much bolder.

But not bad. Not bad at all. Sure, you’re a bit flushed because it’s unexpected and he’s groping your backside. It’s not like its painful and you’ve dreamt of far worse scenarios. So, with a small smile you slip your hands under his shirt, splaying the fingers over his chest and drumming slightly.
“Maybe.” You say playfully. He grins confidently, evidently pleased with your response, but there’s a hint of determination there.
“Maybe?” He asks, his other hand snaking beneath your shirt and up your back. You shiver slightly as his cool hand strokes your heated back, urging you close. You know what he wants you to say. And you know there’s no shame in giving him what he wants, at least this time. Your noses are touching now and his gaze feels like he’s trying to seep into your mind, to find out if you really do want this.
“Yeah…I do like it.”

All his features light up in eagerness, as he pulls you in for a kiss. You can feel his smile as your lips are pressed together, before the kiss opens naturally. His hands are openly curious but there’s a hint of carefulness in his movements as he follows your lead and slips his hands under your shirt. He maps your body as you continue to stroke and rub his chest lightly, one hand reaching to graze the muscles on his back. You close your eyes, trying to focus only on how he’s touching you and the feel of him under your own fingertips.

His fingers nimbly scurry on your skin; still delightfully cool as they dart over your chest, around you back, across your stomach. You gasp slightly as one digit dives into your belly button before retreating hastily. You’re both humming, the kiss slackening as you both forget about it to concentrate on the primary task here. You’re both experimenting but your tops are getting in the way. You pull away from him slightly, tugging at the fabric over your hands and jerking it off him. His dog tags jingle as they slip out of the collar and fall against his lean torso. You barely get a moment to admire it before he’s repaying the favour, yanking roughly at the fabric you wear.

It all comes off (with thankfully few rips) and the two of you end up just staring at each other for a few moments. It’s gotten darker now, the sun disappeared ages ago. His eyes are a bit wide as he shamelessly absorbs your bare chest, making you feel self-conscious. You shift slightly, beginning to consider grabbing your discarded when he quickly grabs your arm and tilts your head up so you’re looking him in the eye. His expression is earnest and he’s a bit tongue-tied for some reason.
“You look great. Really great. No, actually, better then great. I mean, you look...” Realising that this could go on for a while, you smile with relief and kiss them quick and hard.

“Same to you.” You whisper against his ear, hands freely roaming over the exposed skin, tracing wide patterns over his shoulders and down his back. You hear him cutely chuckle as he nestles against your neck, beginning to eagerly kiss and suck. You gasp softly. That was unexpected. His hands curl around you, rubbing your sides as they slip lower. Your own hands follow suit, fingers circling his belt. As his hands dip under your trousers, slender digits drumming between underwear and outerwear... There’s a buzzing noise from the headset he’s still wearing, followed by the sound of Engineer’s voice.
“Boy? You there?”

You immediately blush and let yourself slump forward with a little groan as Scout swears, snapping his head up in irritation. Had that thing been on the entire time?
“Engie...this better be fucking good man.” The two of you separate as Engie affirms that, yes; it is ‘fucking good’ and requires Scouts presence as soon as possible. He also asks if you’ve been seen (looks like he didn’t hear anything) since Medic needs to see you about something. With a sigh, you redress and Scout throws on his shirt. He couldn’t look any angrier then if a Spy had run off with both the Intel and his lucky bat, still cursing and furiously raving about the interruption.

You shake your head, used to his antics and turn him to face you. Slipping a hand just under his collar, you find his dog tags and jerk him gently forward into a soft kiss. He cools slightly under your lips, relaxing into the kiss and holding you close. The two of you part and walk together to the hatch leading into the base, casually talking about what Engie might need Scout for that’s so important and why Medic needs you. He puts an arm around you and you return the gesture, the two of you leaning slightly against each other.

Privately, you make a resolution. Next time you’re making sure that no-one can interrupt, via headset, in person or by any other means. You would consider kicking Engie’s ass too, but Scout has that thought covered. As always.

------------------

To say that today had not been good was a huge understatement.

You had been woken up by the alarm system. There was an enemy wave approaching - at half three in the damn morning. Halfway through the fight it began to rain, turning the landscape into a pit of mud. The enemy Spy seemed to take a liking to your identity so you ended up taking the brunt of the various Spy-checking routines in the team. And, it was Monday. Whether it being Monday encouraged all of the above or if it was just a coincidence, you didn’t really care. Fact was, today was Monday, it had been awful and it was only going to get better when it was over.

You’re currently reclining on the couch in the small rumpus room. Scout is slumped next to you, head lolled back, with Demo and Sniper drinking by the small bar in the corner. Scout makes a low groaning noise, which raises a small smile from you as you shift to face him better.
“That...sucked.” he declared. As if it needed saying.
“Cannot agree more.” You sigh, watching dreamily as he stretches out. He puts an arm around you as he sinks back into the sofa, looking over to the drinking duo. They’re getting up to leave. Demo is truly smashed – his speech is a slur which keeps alternating in volume and he has to rely on Sniper to walk, who is only mildly tipsy. Sniper tips his hat to you both as he leaves, muttering goodnight. You return the sentiment as Scout waves a hand in acknowledgement.

Scout leans forward from the settee, hunching over his knees. He isn’t tired, just fed up from how crappy today has been. You give him a kiss on the cheek and begin to rise.
“C’mon. Might as-“ You lurch forward as he grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him, giving you a sound kiss and slipping an arm around your back. You quickly return it, feeling a little of the tension from the morning loosen. You can feel his stress ease slightly too, but he’s still more tightly wound up than you. He grips you tightly, muttering against your lips in between increasingly heated and open kisses.
“Fucking Spy, trying to act like you. Fucker couldn’t even get your accent right...”

You’ve settled into his lap by now, straddling him as your hands curl around him. One reaches up and toys with his seldom seen hair. The strands you thread your fingers through are surprisingly soft. Scout hums as you play with it, pulling away from your lips to lock eyes with you. The hand that had grabbed your wrist now slides up to your cheek, rubbing it with his knuckles. You tilt slightly to the touch but it isn’t long before the hand reaches behind you to rest at the top of your neck, pressing your head towards his. You don’t resist and meet his lips eagerly, the kisses opening now so your tongues can play. The taste of him is so familiar now but you can’t help savouring it every time you press your tongue to his.

He’s energetic, both in your mouth and with his hands. They begin to roam over you and as they scurry under your shirt, you know where this is going. He’s impatient (maybe he’s still a bit testy from the battle?) and pulls away hastily, making it clear that he wants you undressed by forcefully pulling at your clothing. You help him and reach for his top, taking it off with equal speed and throwing it next to his headset. Both of you are topless and as he dives forward to re-engage the kiss your bare chests press against each other, his cool set of dog tags trapped between warm skin. You push forward, loving the way your warm bodies flare at the points of contact as he pushes back, trying to get closer if it was possible.

As one hand reaches behind you to grip your backside again, Scout fumbles around momentarily until his other finds your hand. As he holds it, he begins to mimic the movements of his tongue, drawing circles and darting around your fingers as his tongue flits around yours. You melt slightly, kissing him hard and holding his hand tightly. You loop your arm up his back to snake your hands into his locks. The hand on your butt reactively squeezes, causing you to squirm slightly. Your skin rubs against his, heating up. The kiss breaks as you both need to breathe, Scout inhaling harsh but shakily.

“Fuck.” He gasps. Before you can smirk at the effect this is having on him, he suddenly thrusts his arms around you. He leans forward, easing you onto your back. Or trying to – the move would’ve been smoothly executed had you both been on the floor, rather than on the sofa. Instead you end up tumbling backwards, landing with a slight thud. Scout’s dragged down with you as you hold onto him to try and correct your balance. He makes a sudden noise of surprise at the unexpected drop, crouched over you with his head next to yours. He quickly untangles his arms from under you, using them to push himself up so he’s hovering over you. His eyes are a bit wide, clearly thinking that you might have hit your head. “Oh man, are you okay?”

His expression is totally adorable, as is the question. You can’t help but laugh gently at his expression, relaxing your hold on him.
“I’m fine.” You brush aside his concern and meet him for another eager kiss, tongues entwining the moment your lips touch. You bring one hand from around his back to rub his toned arm, his hands scooting over your torso. He traces abstract patterns as you lazily stroke the curve of his spine, pushing on his lower body so it presses against you. You break the kiss by sitting up slightly, noticing that his fingers are dancing closer and closer to the top of your trousers.

He‘s holding your gaze, that infamous lazy smirk in place. Evidently his confidence returned, bringing his ego with it.
“Want a hand?” he asks, his bold nature seeping through as he hooks a finger in the fabric. You give him a smile of your own, hands lowering from his body.
“No.” He looks abashed and uncertain, not sure what to say. But when you pull your clothing down yourself, baring all, his eyes widen in surprise and a faint blush streaks across his cheeks. He gulps, stuttering out half-formed words, staring at your nude lower half before meeting your eyes again. You’re still smiling innocently at him, throwing aside the garments. “Do you?” Your hands reach for his hips, tapping at the belt there.

Scout stares at you wonderingly for a moment before regaining his verve and kneeling upright. He rips open his belt and shimmies his pants down and off. As he undresses he never looks away from your eyes and it makes your shudder within your skin. The look he is giving you is one of bold want. Your eyes flit from that expression to what he’s uncovering, a blush slowly blooming on your cheeks - he’s hard. You begin to tentatively reach for it as he struggles to remove his shoes and socks without shifting from his position over you, swearing and looking at his feet. When your fingers brush against the flushed skin he jerks as if shocked by static electricity.
“Fuck.” He gasps, hands twitching and tugging violently at his clothing to get it off.

Finally you’re both naked, Scout kneeling in between your thighs. Your hand is still lightly touching him, ghosting over the hot flesh. He shakily swears again, eyes rolling upwards and fluttering shut as you grip him properly, squeezing softly. With a sharp cry he shoots forward, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you back onto the hard floor. The unexpected movement and surprisingly cold floor makes you emit a squeak of surprise. He lifts one hand from your shoulder, quickly reaching down to touch you.

His hand is openly curious in its movements, twisting at the wrist as those lithe fingers stroke and curl. You twitch and gasp initially but he quickly finds out what makes your body heat flare. You arch and squirm, your voice running away from your mouth as he tries to repeat the actions that make you carry the most pitch in your cries. The hand you have around him involuntarily squeezes in time with your pleasure until you become aware of it. You start to pump him slowly but steadily. A string of complimentary curses bubbles from him as he sags slightly above you, leaning heavily on his free hand to stay upright.

Scout looks you in the eyes, his hand still moving. He’s quite flushed, a faint sheen of sweat beginning to coat his skin. As he presses on a sweet spot, making you shudder and moan his name, he leans close to you so his lips hover by your ear.
“You look fucking amazing. I mean, you look good all the time but...shit.” He groans as you gently tug, thumb circling the head. His head drops slightly, so his forehead rests on your shoulder. “Fuck, I want you.” You can feel his breath on your hot skin, his fingers making you feel only hotter as they work.
“I want you too.” You breathe, adjusting yourself so you can nuzzle into his neck. He smells great – musky and earthy.

He lifts himself up, removing the hand pleasuring you (making you whine at the loss of sensation) and placing it over your hand, on his erection. He prepares himself hurriedly, your hands slipping away together as he slowly pushes himself in. Scout doesn’t attempt to keep quiet, loudly moaning as he eases himself in. He places his hands either side of your head, his eyes closed blissfully but his face contorted with concentration. You let out a low, husky groan yourself as you feel him push deeper inside you, your body easing to him. You see his mouth forming words but none of them are directed at you. You lean up in time to catch him muttering what sounds like a collection of scores - probably baseball, knowing him. Deciding that you’d rather have his full attention, you softly bite and suck at the neck exposed before you.

He shudders and swears throatily, his hips jerking out of his control. One arm curls around you, the other still holding him up as he begins to thrust, building momentum. You rock your hips to meet his, placing a hand to the back of his neck as you keep tasting delicious, sweaty skin. His dog tags dance over your skin as the two of you move against each other, a refreshing spot of cold in the blaze of hot skin.

It’s not completely comfortable of course. Hard floors aren’t designed for comfort and nobody was thinking that anyone would have sex on such a surface. You’re both a bit clumsy too, not used to each other’s bodies in this position, so it takes a while to establish a rhythm. But it’s still fun and enjoyable, especially as Scout isn’t the quiet type. He loudly moans and cries out, listing things he loves about you, how hot you are and all the things he’d love to do to you. When you hit a certain spot, just where his shoulder and neck join, his hips twitch erratically and his pitch becomes higher.

He pushes you down quickly, and kisses you on the lips, tongue darting in the moment you open your mouth to gasp at the sudden movement. It’s all piling up on you – every spot of contact, the sleek movement of sweaty, flushed skin, his rapid thrusts into your welcoming body and his unrelenting kiss. Your toes curl from pleasure, eagerly returning the messy kiss as sparks jolt through your nerves. With his lips on yours, the sound of skin against skin becomes audible, no longer drowned out by you and Scout noisily expressing your pleasures.

Suddenly, a flash of white blocks your vision as a wave of heat sears your lower body. You loudly cry out, grabbing hold of him tightly. He doesn’t stop, instead looking at your rapture flushed face. He can’t seem to form words anymore, limited to groans, grunts and cries to articulate his satisfaction. As the wave ebbs, he hits that spot again, causing you to tighten around him and cry out in a soprano pitch. It goes on like this – he can’t find it with every thrust but when he does, it sends a wave of hot pleasure through your body. You can’t help but shudder as he drives faster and faster, erratically finding that place in you that...

You can’t control the volume anymore as you arch against him, getting breathless now. You loosen and lean back slightly, wanting to see him. Scout’s so sweaty now, his bright blue eyes dilated and his face a portrait of ecstasy; so handsome, as always. He presses against you firmly, those dog tags only just being to absorb the warmth radiating from the two of you. You can feel how tense he is in your hold, slipping towards the edge. Quite abruptly he arches, shouting your name loudly as he comes, thrusting instinctively.

You twist under him, striking orgasm as you hear him call out your name in that blissful, primal tone. You cry out his name in kind, panting breathlessly, liquid heat flooding your system. Scout flops gracelessly on top of you, knocking the last of your breath out of you. The two of you stay like that, sticky with sweat and breathing deeply, as your bodies cool slightly, coming down from the high. He rolls slightly to the side, looking at you adoringly.
“Fucking...unbelievable.” he says sleepily. Tiredness must be kicking in now. “Gotta do that again...” he trails off, pulling you close and nuzzling you as he suddenly falls asleep, snoring gently.

You smile and shake your head. Typical Scout. You look up at the door, debating forcing Scout to get up and go to his room for the night. You didn’t really like the idea of being found naked in the morning and the two of you didn’t have a good track record for being uninterrupted. However, he was like a rock when he slept and might find it offensive. Finally, you settle on prying yourself from his hold to quickly lock the door shut. Returning to him, you snuggle up against his warm body, allowing sleep to overcome you.

Tomorrow will be a good day. You just know it.

Argh double post, my bad

PLEASE POST SOME MORE SCOUT X YOU FICS ;_; Very hot please

BUMP COME BACK

oh my those sniper fics

(SORRY IDK HOW TO SAGE)

Sad that this wonderful thread has died. Maybe I'll add it on to the new "ClassxYou" thread.

Let this thread live, please.

I want the thread to live.