>>90

This one was beautiful and so sad. I know her feeling, or I guess... My feeling? Hmm. Whatever, I can relate to this story almost perfectly is the point. Thank you for reposting it!

>>90

Oh my God, get out of my head. I have wanted this for sooo long, without even making a prompt or anything, and here you go fulfilling my deepest, darkest secret desires.
DAMN YOU.

Just so everyone knows, I don't know how many more reposts I can make to keep saving this thread. Just off the top of my head, I remember only one more that I really like. Just a warning.

>>91

That's so sweet~ I'm glad you could relate to this. I'd argue that this fic is the most relatable because anyone who's ever been in a long distance relationship should be able to understand it. Whereas most people have never tied someone to a chair or walked in on the Sniper and Spy and had a sudden threesome.

...not that either of those are bad things.

>>92

Eep! Don't blame me! Blame Auemm! S/he's the one with the psychic powers who apparently got into your head! I'm innocent, I swear! ;)

I actually really like this story. I'm usually Not for the whole rape/non-con what ever you want to call it but I like it for the character. One thing that would be interesting to see (though this may Already be planned out) is pyro's struggle with gender since he sees himself as a man, but the others only view him as a female to exploit.

Again I like the story though it's very dark and makes me want to kick some major ass. I hope in future chapters something good happens to little pyro

85
If you would like, OP, I would love to have a go at beta reading your fic. That is, if you actually would WANT a beta.

It's so fantastic-o that I can't keep my mouth shut to avoid volunteering. Email me if you're interested.
If you would prefer a named person to beta instead though, that's completely understandable!

Today was actually a good creative writing day for me! I think I'll round off the day with a repost to save one of my favorite threads!

Since this thread has zero voyeur fics, might as well add one.

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

(Written by Pen Name)

Sniper was bored.

Sure, he could have been downstairs, yucking it up with the rest of the team, but Sniper wasn't a very social guy. The man was painfully awkward. He much preferred to hole up in his nest and practice his aim on small nocturnal animals roaming about the dusty courtyard. Sniper's elevated nest was on the far east side of the L shaped building, giving him a good view of both the enemies base and his own. The only light from either came from the main halls. All the windows for the bedrooms were dark. 10:30 was still far too early for bed for most of the team.

Sniper clipped a rabbit as it darted from one shrub to another.

This is were you came in. Having never been much of a party person yourself, you excused yourself after a few drinks. You were no where near drunk, only a little light headed, and you figured you would fall asleep easily. A short, quiet walk brought you to your room in the west wing of the building. You opened the door, flicked on the light, and stepped inside.

Sniper took notice. He lifted his scope to your window, out of curiosity, and watched your close your bedroom door and shuffle about your room. He was immediately fascinated, and, as such, felt a little guilty. He really shouldn't be spying... at least not on a teammate...

But Sniper didn't lower his scope. He reassured himself that watching did no harm. He convinced himself that he was doing nothing wrong, even as you took off your shirt.

You casually tossed your shirt to the pile of laundry against the wall. You yawned and stretched, and Sniper, on the other side of the base, made careful observation of the contours of your body as you did so. He bit his lip gently as another pang of guilt struck him. You hooked your hands onto your waistband, lowering it just slightly before pausing. You were pausing almost as though to give Sniper a chance to think, but really, you were looking intently at the wall beside you, distracted by a chip in the paint or some such nonsense.

Sniper bit his lip a little harder, his thoughts battling. He stared again at your torso, watching your soft breathing, until his eyes traveled down to your partially exposed hips. He felt a small rush of heat in his cheeks.

/Hurry it up, wankah..../

Practically on cue, you continued to undress. You bent over, tugging your pants to your ankles and kicking them off into the laundry pile. Sniper's face flushed and he decided that, guilty or not, he was enjoying himself. One hand held his rifle steady while the other tugged at the buttons of his shirt. He felt very warm.

Meanwhile, you need pajamas. A dresser, in view of the window, sat against the wall. PJ's were in the bottom drawer.

Sniper had unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down just enough. His hand touched cautiously while his brain still debated slightly as to the morality, though, to be honest, the element of guilt was only getting him more excited.

You were having trouble finding a top to go with your pajama pants.

Sniper found a slow, steady rhythm, more caressing than jerking. He was careful not to shake his view through your window. A warm up, really. His focus was more on watching you at the moment. He observed how your ass moved when you shifted your weight. He admired the smooth back of your legs, one bent, one locked. And when you finally stood up, placing the set of fabric on top of the dresser, he relished the movement and the fact that he could see it without your knowledge.

You turned around and leaned against the dresser, facing the window. You smiled, making Sniper's heart jump. He was suddenly very grateful that the light in his own room was turned off.

And what you did next made him twice as glad he was hidden.

Your hand was in your underpants, setting to work very quickly. You were biting down tightly on your lip. Sniper's eye's widened and his mouth hung ajar. You free hand braced yourself against the dresser, curling and uncurling into a fist. You managed to shimmy your undies out of the way; they now stretched between your thighs. You fingers were soon slick and damp as they alternated between almost violent movements and soft, tantalizing touches.

Sniper couldn't believe his damn eyes. He quickly matched his own pace to yours, struggling to keep his view steady. Your mouth would open to into moans that his ears strained in vain to hear. You face was painted red and it was clear you were panting and muttering. Sniper saw your body begin to tense. You were getting close.

His heart raced. His breathing was ragged and it was all he could do to keep watching and not double over into his own climax. He wanted to time it just right.

You squeezed your eyes shut into an expression of determined concentration. Your hips drew forward into your hand. Your spine tried it's hardest to arch against the dresser at you back. You threw your head back. Sniper jerked his eyes away from the scope, shutting them tightly. His hand moved at a furious pace.

You took in a sharp breathe.

Sniper choked out your name.

The timing was almost exact, although neither of you would know that.


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

The next morning, you caught Sniper off his guard, kissing him smartly on the lips. The huntsman's look of shock, bliss, confusion, and terror was ungodly satisfying. He stammered out a question or two, but none of them were coherent enough to be answered so you slapped on another kiss to shut him up.

"I saw the dot, stupid." You laughed, curling your arms around his neck. "Glad you approve."

But seriously, we need new fanfics to keep saving this thread. There's really only one more I've saved that I'd like to repost.

...maybe I should write a Class/You fic!

>>66's request gave me some weird ideas, but I honestly have more confidence and experience writing original material than I do fanfic porn...

97
I'm deeply tempted to go back to this HeavyxYou fic I've been fiddling around with for some time now. I'm not much of a skilled writer at all, but writing porn sure beats writing term papers.

>>97

I would totally want to see a You/Medic fic! Just add a female version as well. Bonus points if Medic uses a Disciplinary Action. I can't seem to get enough of that.

I'd write one, but I can barely write well enough to even post on Marysuetopia.

I absolutely love these class/you fictions, especially the Medic/You ones.

They have been a guilty pleasure of mine for a very long time and would shamefully love to see more

I have been posting some small Scout x You / You x Scout ficlets on my tumblr (writingcyan.tumblr.com) that I didn’t think were large enough to share in this thread. But I was asked to do so anyway by a dear friend of mine, so here’s a collection of my current pieces. Some are explicit, others not, and the formats and gender vary. I hope this is okay.

-----

Pancakes
Inspired by a sketch by Jannelle-o of Scout eating pancakes.

Watching Scout eat pancakes is more appealing than perhaps it should be.

You can tell how much he enjoys every bite, folding his mouth carefully around the still-warm vanilla-and-honey pieces, catching the drops of golden maple syrup with his lower lip and wiping them off his chin with a finger. He licks it clean, slowly, makes sure he gets all of the sweet sticky residue, even spreads two fingers in a V to let his tongue dart between them. It looks obscene, makes you writhe on your chair, and you wonder how Scout, who has mastered the single-entendre and turns everything into an innuendo without even knowing the word, doesn’t realise what he’s doing.

“You really like pancakes, huh?” you ask him. He looks up, startled, so lost in sugary bliss that he’s forgotten your presence.

“Oh yeah!” he says, muffled, then swallows and flashes you a smile. “You want some?”

The offer surprises you; he usually doesn’t share with anyone. He’s more surprised still, when you reach over to grab the fork and its speared gold-dripping treat out of his hand—and bring the hand, not the fork, to your lips. You brush against his fingertips, featherlight, taste the syrup still clinging to the skin, sweetness and salt. You want more.

He stares at you, wide-eyed, wild-eyed, as your lips part fully and you suck in two of his fingers, swirl your tongue around them, swallow down until his knuckles are past your front teeth and there can be absolutely no doubt about your meaning. When you finally let him go he’s panting, and there’s a thin string of spit still connecting you until he pulls back and snaps it.

“Yeah, I want some,” you breathe, looking him straight in the eyes, and for once he’s completely, utterly speechless. It makes you smile slyly to see the slack-jawed look on his face. When you stand up and start walking towards his room, it takes a second for him to scramble enough coherency to push back his chair, and even then he almost tips himself over backwards in his urgency.

“Don’t forget the syrup!” you purr. He doesn’t.

The half-eaten pancakes cool on the table, unfinished.

-----

Outscouting
I got into a TMI Scout war with a friend on tumblr; basically we ended up sending each other more and more outrageous snippets of Scout porn. He made a line about being ‘outscouted’, so I sent him this.

He likes outscouting you. He likes fucking you. Every time he tells you he ain’t no fag and it’s only cuz you’re both stuck out here away from all the pretty girls he has in Boston, only cuz his hand gets so fuckin’ boring, only cuz it’s you, and that last off-hand remark makes you turn away so he doesn’t see the heated blush in your cheeks.

It shouldn’t mean anything to you, either of you, just a quick rut and a fuck you for goodbye, but it says something that he’s the one with the tube of lube in his pocket.

Sometimes, when it’s been a while, he doesn’t even bother with the posturing; he presses you back, into an unused room, behind a stack of crates out of the way of the fighting, presses against you, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his arms tight around you, and when he finally presses up into you there’s a desperation in him not born of horniness. There’s no swearing, no grabbing your hair as he fucks you, no do you like that, bitch, just soft sounds, a breathy yeah, yeah, yeah, just him curled around you almost protectively, rocking you in his lap.

On those days you always let him come first so you can watch the expression on his face when he does, and it’s a matter of a minute to get yourself off after, with his breathing still heavy in your ear and his legs still trembling under you.

You like it when he fucks you every day, when it’s more than once during a battle, when you can still feel the stickiness of him as you make off with their intel, but sometimes it’s worth holding out just so you can get this gentleness too, his way of saying I missed you.

-----

Scout Porn Torture
Sometimes when I chat with male TF2 gamers on Steam, I like to tease them about the whole fandom thing. Most are pretty gracious about it... others have the most hilarious reactions. Here’s an excerpt from a chat that apparently should be banned under the Geneva Convention. (I hope the mods won't take offence to the chat format; the reactions are half the fun.)

Anon: BUT I HATE SCOUT.

Cyan: I’m sure Scout has a very talented mouth, though. He talks all the time. He could put it to better use, I think…

Anon: AWUSHNFGMDFPL;GFH

Cyan: I think he would love to, too. He seems like the kind of guy who’d love to lick all the way down your body, under the covers, going all quiet…

Cyan: And very hands-on too. Touching everywhere, then gripping your thighs and spreading them so he could get down there, fit his shoulders between your legs, your feet against the small of his back…

Anon: What

Anon: He’d get kicked

Cyan: No, I think you’d be in no position to be kicking when he got his mouth on you. Writhing, maybe, fisting your hands in the sheets, jerking when he took you all in…

Anon: I do NOT like it!

Cyan: Aw, but you would. Think about it, grabbing his hair and pulling him against you, fucking his face…

Anon: No.

Cyan: Oh yeah? What could be better than coming with Scout’s mouth on you, letting him taste you and lap it all up with that talented tongue of his?

Cyan: It wouldn’t take much to drive him crazy anyway. He’d love it, anything you’d care to do to him. He’d be a little slut for you.

Anon: I would ONLY beat him up…

Cyan: You wouldn’t be tempted at all? With him lying under you, held down by your weight and the grip of your fists around his wrists, bloody-lipped and black-eyed, you wouldn’t be tempted to slide down his pant a couple of centimetres and fuck him slowly on the floor until you could feel the carpet-burns on your knees and elbows and he was clenching hard around you…?

Anon: … No.

Anon: *Not amused look on his face*

Cyan: You have to answer. Or I’ll write you more Scout porn

Anon: Who says I will READ

Cyan: Oh, you will… Lovely, detailed descriptions of him licking you, gently spreading your legs while you bury your face in a pillow so he can run his tongue over your ass, teasing it, maybe trying to lick his way inside before rubbing a finger over you and sliding it in, slick with spit…

Anon: Gahhhhhh!!!

Cyan: You’d love his hands, so strong, callused from gripping the rough wood of a bat and the hard, worn leather of baseballs, now rubbing a thumb slowly over your own balls before sucking them into his warm, wet, willing mouth…

Anon: Stay away scout

Cyan: Oh, but his fingers inside your ass, think of that. Slowly stretching you open, that hot burn where it’s almost too much, but he needs to prepare you because he’s so, so hard and he wants to fuck you, you can hear it in his breathing, the way he gasps against your skin…

Anon: But I already answered you.

Cyan: He just likes it. It feels good to him, that gentle suction on his fingers when you moan and clench around his knuckles.

Anon: Stop mentally and physically torturing me I answered you!

-----

Anon Scout Porn
One late night I was bored. A person I follow on tumblr made a comment that was a perfect setup for teasing her, and so over the next two nights I kept sending her these anon Scout porn messages. She found me out in the end, though.

”I heard ya talkin’ to your friends.” It isn’t the opening you expected, but then you didn’t expect him to come over at all, and… oh god. Oh god no. You hide your blushing face in your hands as he continues, in a mad dash for words like he’s nervous too: ”Shit gets lonely out here, and… let’s just say I know everythin’ about jerkin’ off. And yeah, I know what it’s like. If I couldn’t get myself off I’d be climbin’ the fuckin’ walls by now! So I wanted to ask… would ya like me to teach ya?”

Scout’s room is small and cramped, and smells like unwashed socks, but you don’t care when he pulls the bedcovers up around you both. You’re still dressed, and so is he, but this close you can feel the heat of him, feel how fast his heart is hammering, and his hand shakes a little when he slides it over and unbuttons your jeans. “Relax,” he says, feeling you tense, “I ain’t gonna do nothin’ but this…” His hand closes around yours, rough gauze on sensitive skin, and guides it downwards…

But it’s difficult to relax when you feel the soft satin of your panties under your own fingertips. His hand is still on yours, but he spreads his fingers, longer than yours, stronger, and brushes them over the delicate lace edging, like he wants to feel that. His breath is hot in your ear where he leans against you, so close. You’re both going by feel, together, sliding your hands into the narrow gap between smooth silk and coarse denim, and it’s a tight fit, almost too tight, but oh… oh…

It’s so warm there, as he guides your hand to follow the soft curve under your jeans to where you suddenly know you want it to go, like the core of you is blazing, blushing, burning with this strange desire for the gentle touch of fingertips through your panties. He goes slow, his hand enveloping yours, one of his fingers urging one of yours to press down through the thin fabric and feel the way you part around it, a shallow dip. He rolls his finger and you do too, and moan into his shoulder…

He’s breathing with you like this is getting to him too, like he’s been running a four-minute mile, but all he’s moving is that one finger. It’s all you can feel too, his arm around you, holding you close, holding you down when your legs jerk and your back tries to arch away from the mattress. “Yeah,” he’s whispering, panting, “yeah, that’s fuckin’ it, you’re fuckin’ doin’ it now, Christ that’s good…” and there’s almost a whine in his voice, a note of desperation to match your ragged gasps…

It’s almost too much, too intense, like you can’t breathe with that constant pressure against the most sensitive part of you, the hard, fast pace of your fingers on yourself and his on yours. He’s merciless too, won’t let you stop, or slow, or shift away. You know your hair is a mess, your cheeks blushing furiously, your lips sore from where you’re biting them hard to keep from screaming, but he’s looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re here, with him, in his bed, moaning his name…

It would be cute, but you’re too far gone to appreciate it now, clenching your legs around his hand and yours, writhing on his sheets, fisting your other hand into the Red Sox bed blanket to hold onto your sanity just a moment longer, because oh, oh, oh, you can’t, you can’t, it’s too much, you can’t breathe, and Scout’s voice is a rasp like he’s struggling too, a ceaseless mantra of ‘fuck yeah, fuck yeah, fuck yeah, come on, do it’, and you don’t even know who’s clinging to who anymore…

And there it is, the breathless moment, the eternity outside of time balancing on that precipice, that knife’s edge of oblivion, all agony and orgiastic pleasure intermingling, undoing, and orgasm washes over you, roars in your ears, pounds in your blood. You think you might be screaming, every muscle trembling from tension, and it’s everything you never imagined, pure raw physicality. Nothing could have prepared you for this… or for Scout’s awestruck ‘wow’ in the quiet after.

He holds you close as you come down, still shaking, relaxing into bonelessness in his embrace. All you can hear in the room is the both of you breathing and the rustle of linen as he snuggles closer, burying his face against your neck. He’s so close he can probably taste the salt sweat on your skin, but you don’t mind. His hand is still down your pants, still holding yours, a strangely innocent gesture after all you’ve just done, and you can’t help but smile.

“That was… pretty fuckin’ awesome,” Scout says, muffled, his lips brushing over the pulse point of your throat. “Mm,” you reply, not even a real answer, just a content hum. The bed is warm, and soft, and you’re not sure your legs are working just yet, and it’s so tempting to curl up against him that you don’t bother fighting the impulse. His other arm slips around you, pulling you against him, and oh… It’s suddenly hard not to notice that he’s not as cool about this as he’s pretending to be.

He presses against you, hard through his pants, before realising what he’s doing, and the expression of embarrassment on his face as he shifts back is just too adorable. You laugh, a soft sound of amusement that makes him blush even harder, and stroke his hand on your panties. “I didn’t know there’d be a test,” you say, keeping your voice low. “Wanna find out if I’ve learned anything today?” You’re trying for sultry, but you can’t help laughing again as his mouth drops open in utter disbelief.

“Ya’d do that?” he asks, and it comes out as a high-pitched squeak. He looks away, coughs, then continues in what he probably imagines to be a manlier tone. “I mean, yeah, that’d be cool. If you wanna.” He’s trying so hard to sound casual, to pretend he’s totally not pressing the hardness between you against your hip, but you can tell how desperate he is by the way he keeps swallowing dryly and licking his lips, how he’s holding your hand just a little bit tighter, his palm sweaty against yours.

“Yeah, I wanna,” you tell him, turning your head to steal a kiss just as his tongue darts out again, and it’s flattering to see him so flustered. You fold your fingers around his and lift his hand away, and for a moment you miss the contact, the warmth and weight of him there. He’s warm where you touch him too, slipping your fingers inside his waistband, under his belt, feeling smooth skin over flat, toned muscles and coarse hair when you delve further down to bury your fingers through it.

“Fuck,” Scout says, breathless, struggling to undo the button with your hand in the way. He fumbles it open, finally, but you’re the one who inch down his zipper from inside. He’s wearing briefs, white, and the thin cotton does little to hide the bulge it barely contains. He sighs in relief as you open his fly, but it turns into a choked gasp when your thumb stroke the full length of him on the return, lingering at the top. “So,” you say, looking coyly up at him, “wanna show me how it’s done?”

He nods, for once lost for words, and guides your hand to close around him. The angle is awkward and the fabric between your palm and his skin is too rough to slide smoothly, but you can feel how hard he is, how he fits into your hand perfectly. His hand is on top of yours again, urging you to move. You do, slowly at first, and he draws in a sharp breath and twitches against you, bites his lip with those cute buckteeth of his to keep from making embarrassing noises and still can’t help doing it.

“Oh yeah,” he moans, sucking lightly on the sensitive spot just below your ear and making you shiver, “yeah, that’s it, you’re a freakin’ natural.” Encouraged, you start playing with him, tightening on the upstroke, running your thumb over the top of his erection and nuzzling the slight dip in the fabric there. He’s rolling his hips ever so slightly, pushing himself into your grasp, fucking the embrace of your hand, and he so, so lost in you, holding on to you like he’s never letting go again.

Touching yourself for the first time felt good, amazing, but touching him is, to your surprise, just as mind-blowing. To feel him tremble against you, knowing you’re the one doing this to him, making him feel this, the cause of those sharp gasps against your neck, that’s a new kind of pleasure you never knew before. You wonder if he did. Maybe he does know everything about masturbating, but your hand might be the first on him that isn’t his own. It’s a thought that makes your heart skip a beat.

His breathing is so loud in your ear that you can’t hear anything else. Maybe you’re moaning too, but you don’t care. He’s making you move faster now, thrusting into your hand as you clutch him tightly through his briefs, and then, fuck it, you don’t care anymore… your hand slips away from his, up and under the elastic, inside. The heat of his bare skin on yours is shocking, slick with sweat, and the noise he makes in your ear now is nothing more than a strangled whine, so soft and desperate.

He chokes on it, the sweetest sound, and then he’s coming into your hand and oh, oh yeah, fuck if that isn’t the best feeling ever, warm and wet and all over you, and he’s almost sobbing into your shoulder, overcome, undone by you. You let him ride out that wave of mindless ecstasy, feel the last of his completion drip down you wrist with syrupy slowness, gluing you together. It’s weird, the stickiness of it, unfamiliar, but so worth it when he lifts your chin and locks your lips together.

The kiss starts out hot and desperate, your teeth clicking against his awkwardly at first, but then you both find the rhythm of it and relax into each other. He licks your lower lip, worries it lightly with his teeth, pull you close with his hands smoothing the mess of your hair. It’s a long time before he lets you go again, and when he does the smile on his face could light up a room and it’s all for you. “That was…” he whispers, and you finish for him, smiling too: “…fuckin’ amazing.”

He grins and kisses you again. “Yeah.” You both really need to get cleaned up, you’re filthy, sweaty and sticky, but this is a perfect moment. He leans over you to grab a tissue out of the box on his nightstand, and, well, maybe he really is an expert at jerking off, keeping that there. It’s handy now, though. He wipes off your hand for you, then just holds it, his fingers slowly entwining with yours. He’s smiling, and you are too, and neither of you leave the bed for a long, long time. /END.

-----

I hope this ficlet/chat dump isn’t against the ‘chan rules. Mods, please let me know if it is. And I’ll be posting more when I write it; the Class/You format has certainly grown on me recently, so I doubt these will be my last submissions to this thread. Thanks for reading!

Oh wow. Cyan, you have an amazing talent. Seriously, those were hot. Never stop.

>>101

...you. You just won the entire internet... Well played, damn you, well played.

fic from the old "<class> and you

I figure I should contribute while I'm on, here is a 'Soldier and you' fic, again I don't save author names, my bad. Shoot me.
-----------------------------------------

Your legs shakily make their way up the stairs, with beer in hand, you charge up in excitement. Each step is a pain and you wince from each step and with your gun flung over your shoulder, it makes it more gruelling. Reaching the top your pace quickens, forcing your body to its destination without question. But at the top you quickly scan the surroundings, hoping for a solitaire environment before you start to get comfortable. No one's in sight.

"Finally!" You exclaim loudly before your legs give out under you with a 'thunk'. The porch had been waiting patiently for your arrival and you let out a content sigh while opening your golden elixir. Today was a rough one for sure; you've died and respawned at least 6 times. In the back of your mind, you know that can't be good for you. So what do you do? You lie back on the porch, beer to your lips, reflecting the day and reviewing the good times. Your eyes close and before you are dead to the world you hear a certain sound that breaks you from your comfort.

"What're you doing, Maggot?" Instantly your eyes bolt open to see the Soldier leaning over you to be face to face. You could smell the gun powder on him and you feel your heart 'thump' in his intense presence. Your senses feel drained as he grunts out in irritation. "Well?"

"I'm relaxing, sir." Thankfully your brain boots back up in time to answer. He looks you over, before sneering and sitting to the opposite side of the porch. It seems he brought up his own beer (or two) for his pleasure also. You sit straight and watch him from the corner of your eye in case he decides to jump you. Usually, you're here by yourself, listening to the trickles of the stream and the music from the cicadas, before Engineer calls you down for dinner. But of course, being the new recruit, you will be left with barely anything.

Slowly, you tilt your head to the side so you could get a better view of your comrade. He is sitting cross-legged against the railing, while guzzling his beer with clenched fists. Your memory goes back to when you first met the guy. He was hostile and his sharp voice became a sign to you to hide. But you knew underneath that tough exterior was someone more quiet…you hope.

"Hn, if you have all this time to waste, you should be doing something useful. Like drills around the war field!" You feel a shudder go through your spine at the mention of the word 'drills'. You know for a fact that he can be very persuasive during physical training.

"I'm not wasting time." You say smugly. "I'm here to be mentally fit." He sips his beer, while keeping an eye on you. You both stare very awkwardly until you speak up. "What?"

"I don't believe it. That's bullshit, Maggot!" His fist pounds the wood under him and you jump slightly. His piercing glare could be felt, even behind his helmet; and you do the courtesy of glaring back.

"Stop talking for once! Just try it, Sarge, and you'll see what I mean." Instantly, you wish you could grab those words and shove them back into your stupid mouth. The beer gave you enough buzz to have you say stupid shit to the Soldier. One must never command Solly around, that was his job. Your eyes shit tightly, waiting for the bone crackling impact from his fist in your face. Seconds turn to minutes until you open your eyes. What you see startles you, for you see the Soldier calmer than you ever thought possible. Cautiously you watch him; his hidden eyes were in view and his WW2 helmet pushed up.

You never thought that he'd have hazel eyes and you never thought they'd be so beautiful. Your attention is soon fully on him as he stares off into space, only to pause to drink his refreshment and scratch his neck. Suddenly his gaze rests on you and your stomach feels clenched by an invisible force. The gold tint in his iris puts you at a loss of thought and words. But to your displeasure, he flicks his helmet back down, purposely blocking your view as if he had something to hide. He quickly stands and walks into the RED building without a word. You bite back your tongue. You've already pissed him off, no point in adding in more hell.

"Dinner!" The Texan's grizzled voice echoed up the stairs and into your ears. A sudden growl was heard from your stomach and you hop up. Wincing a little, you make your way down stairs.

________________________________________
"Dammit..." That bastard-scout punched you out of the way for a corn cob. You touch the purple flesh on your shoulder before rubbing it, hoping that it will magically heal instantly. Nope. Still nasty looking. But you have to admit, the Pyro can make some damn good food with the help of Engineer of course. Once again you slowly make your way back to the porch for some more 'mental exercises'; in other words daydreaming. Your legs aren't as sore but you take your time going up each step. Your mind reverts to the Soldiers eyes and you feel a flush spill over your face. This feeling was too over whelming and it made you feel too relaxed, and the last thing you want to feel in the war field is relaxed. Relaxing meant letting your guard down and letting your guard down meant getting killed.

You open the door to the porch and you try to gulp down the knot in your throat at the sight. Soldier was there with a case of brews. He turns his attention to you but says nothing. His uniform really stood out, it was near 8 o'clock and you could see his blood red jacket. You sit a foot away from him and you feel cool glass against your shoulder. It was a Budweiser, you thank him and twist off the cap in a swift movement. The two of you drink silently before soon the tension between you two dwindles enough for you to finish a beer and for him to grab another. When you finish your second bottle he's already drank 4. Being a half-pint, your vision is already swimming and it doesn't take long for you two to start a conversation.

His stories of his war were surprisingly very interesting. You find yourself asking more questions and he continues to answer with much exaggeration. He told jokes about the Medic and Spy, his first gun, and even how he got into Fort 2. To your amazement, you’re having a damn good time with him.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Two long lost drinking buddies?" Soldier and you look to the door to see the Spy leaning against the frame lighting a cigarette. He cooly inhales the fumes before puffing out some smoke.

"What the fuck do you want, Spy?" Soldier's raspy voice scares you in your drunken state even more. Spy just chuckles.

"I've noticed we were lacking our Decoy and Soldieur." Spy's coy smile turned into a grin. "I was making sure you didn't do anyzing to zhe poor zhing." You glare at the man, having you brought into this was low. You've known about the two's hate for each other for some time and always weaselled your way around those arguments.

"I haven't done nothing to the kid! So you just get your ass out of here before I shove my cleats up it!" He barked back, his teeth blaring from anger. This only makes him laugh more. Soldier does an animalistic yell before he jumped on top of the Spy trying to strangle that covered neck. Spy laughs like a maniac at his power over the fighter and you watch this tussle for a few minutes before reaching for your gun. With the Soldier yelling out random insults, you somehow manage to kick the Soldier off the Spy and quickly pull the trigger. With a loud crack, the red substance splattered over you and your comrade, and the only sound heard after that was your gun reloading. The Soldier was taken aback by the action and he looks at you stunned. The red suit starts to turn into a navy blue and you thank the heavens that it wasn't one of your team mates.

"You okay, Sarge?" You ask spitting out some blood and smile at him. He pulls himself up before getting close to you.

"I'VE COULD'VE TAKEN CARE OF THAT, MAGGOT! YOU'VE JUST EARNED YOURSELF 50 LAPS AROUND THE FIELD TOMORROW EVENING! AND IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU, YOU WON’T EAT. GOT THAT, SALLY FRUITCAKE?" The thundering voice stung your ears and you hiss in response. He turns on his heel and stomps off leaving your mouth agape and eyes widened.

"WHAT?" You couldn’t believe it! Actually, you can. He's done this so many times you should be use to it. You sink to your knees and try to claw out your hair in frustration.

________________________________________
"'Ey, Welp! Mind watchin' mah back for those spooks?" You turn to Sniper who currently had the Intelligence and you nod assuringly. You run after him and turn around to throw traps for any followers. You switch out your rifle, loading it quickly for any immediate attacks. Behind you were the cries of a Heavy bellowing from pain and you smirk smugly at the small victory before turning a corner to be face to face with a BLU! Spy, separating you and the Australian.

"You go on, Snipe! I've got him!" You’re almost not sure of yourself, but the Aussie does a courtesy nod.

"Good on ya', Mate!" He responds thankfully, before high tailing it to the RED! base. You turn back to the Spy, as he smokes nonchalantly in front of you as if he had no care in the world.

"Hmm, where's your friend, zhe Soldieur?" He smirks into the cylinder of tobacco, before strutting over toward you. You have a knife in hand, but you watch him intensely for any threatening movements. "Why does he seem so special to you. mon cher?" His accent was seductive but you weren't to 'wooed' by the conversation and having him a BLU! wasn't helping. Tightening your grip around the handle, you lung toward his chest, but he grabs your wrist. Twirling you around so your back was against his chest. He grabs the other and pins both of your hands above your head. You move to make a kick but he loosens his grip for you to fall on the ground. Scrambling to get up, he pins you to the ground forcefully before sliding his knee between your legs. You gasp out and watch as he begins to lean forward. Trying to pull from his grip you hear him speak in that seductive tone again.

"Je peux vous promettre que les hommes français sont bien mieux que l'Américain simple..." He stops in mid sentence when a steel shovel clashes with his head. The lifeless body slumps on you and you’re able to see your savoir. You just wish it wasn't him. The BLU!'s body was thrown across the hallway and the Soldier grabs your arm and pulls you up to eye level. You feel his anger radiating off him like a heater, your stomach clenches again to see those hazel eyes.

"You disgust me, Maggot..." He growls out before thrusting you away from him like you were a beggar from the streets. He jogs off leaving you empty than you've ever felt.

________________________________________
You lost the intelligence...It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. You were getting targeted like never before, a Sniper did a head-shot on you, Spy got his revenge and back stabbed you; Hell, you probably got killed by all the members of the other team...TWICE. Not to mention, through one of Sarge's roaring complaints, he kept on directing his yelling in your face and kept on poking your chest as if everything was your fault. Once, he was through he'd grab you by your collar and take you outback for that training you were oh so crazy about.

"I WANNA SEE YOU SWEAT BLOOD, YOU NANCY!" After 67 laps you have a feeling you might start to. Your lungs stung from exhaustion and the cool air stung your nose like bleach. You have a bad feeling Soldier saw the whole scene in a totally different perspective and instantly thought of you as a whore. Now, punishment for the 'whore' was to run 100 laps nonstop, not to mention you got no supper and it was near 9:45 in the evening. But by the 73 lap you fall to your knees and grip the ground for balance, for you've never seen the ground whirl like that before. Soldier walks to you and kicks you to the ground so you could face him.

"YOU SHOULD'VE THOUGHT TWICE BEFORE YOU WENT OFF TO SLEEP WITH THE OTHER TEAM!" Again, wincing from the loud volume, you desperately try to catch your breath.

"Not (gasp) a whore. (gasp) Spy (wheeze) trapped me (pant)." The Soldier frowns doubtfully. Leaning forward to be face to face he breathes out;"Prove to me, Maggot."

'What the hell? How do I do that?' is all that goes through your mind while you’re still panting and looking at him like deer in headlights. He scoffs before standing back up and turning back to the base. "Thought so... GIVE ME 30 MORE LAPS!" Catching your last few breaths, you watch as he disappears into the base.

"Dammit..."Trying to catch your breath again, you stand shakily and start up your running.

________________________________________
Slauntering into the base took more effort than anything you've done in your life. Sweat seemed to pour off your body like a water fountain and stain your red clothing like blood on a white shirt. You move across the hallways and stumble into the dining room. The smell of a decent meal, almost made you faint from happiness as you push open the kitchen doors. You want to wipe your eyes to erase the sight of the other in the same room. Sarge, seemed to be pouring a hefty amount of the meaty stew into a bowl. He turns to only give you a disproved look and shoves the bowl into your hands.

"Eat up. I don’t want to have any useless, Worms in the field tomorrow." He wasn't yelling, but what he said still hurt you. You nod, and grab a spoon then leave to sit at the table. He follows, and leans against a wall with a mug in hand. You take a mouthful of potatoes, he was waiting to make sure you didn't go off with that Frenchy bastard. He wasn't important right now, what was important was trying to tell the Soldier what happened. But before you open your mouth to say anything. He interjects.

"You really hurt me out there, private." He states grumpily before sipping his coffee. Your eyebrows knit as you concentrate on him as he looks at the ground, trying to find the words. "You were probably one of the noblest fighters I've ever taught." Again, another blow that hurt you. "I always thought that we were..." You hear him draw off and you watch patiently for an answer. His face was already hard to read, but now he just looked so lost and unknown. This wasn't your Sarge, it was that quiet one you were talking about...you hope. He wasn't really looked up to in Fort, with all these manly figures, it was hard to be one. But even with those figures, you still hung around Soldier, it wasn't something that's really crossed your mind until now. Now that you think about it, you weren't with him because you had to or that he was your commander, you think you might actually be drawn to him.

You stand up and walk over to him. He was still absent, but you take this moment to pat his back and look up that helmet. His eyes were in view and you felt your heart leap again from those irises.

"I don’t have any relationship with that French fry." His eyes roll to you and you look at him more confidently. "That French-fuck was trying to separate Snipes and me when he had the Intel. What you saw was not intentional." You pat his back harder like he does when you've done your watch as his face goes from that unknown look to his 'MAGGOT' look. He glugs down the rest of his coffee before he faces you.

"Jesus, private. YOU SMELL LIKE THE DEAD RABBIT FROM BEHIND OUR SNIPER'S VAN!" You tumbled backwards and fall on your ass, he gives you hand, pulling you up like you were a bag of potatoes. "Good to see that I didn't lose any of my men." He whacks your back and you fall forward. "EAT YOUR FOOD THEN GO SHOWER, NANCY PANTS!" He tosses his coffee cup on the floor and marches up the stairs as if he didn't have a moment. Not sure of what just happened, you pick up the pieces of glass before you lean in to smell yourself.

"Fucking, sick! He was right!"

________________________________________
It was another relaxing evening. Tonight beer's never tasted so good when you share a case with Sarge. He's leaning against that same railing with his helmet completely off. You couldn't help yourself as you, again, stare at those eyes. His attention is elsewhere and yours on him. You really begin to look at his features: from is stubble, to his buzz cut. He had such a manly look to him like Snipers side-burns or Medic's accent.

"Today was a good day!" He proclaims and you take a swig and admire him some more.

"Sure was." He turns to you to whack your back and you let out a drunken laugh.

"I blasted that Spy’s head off more than I could count!" He laughed out loudly. You frown, you could tell he was still bugged from that. "Damn, Spy. He'll pay." He puts his arms in front of him and wrings the invisible figure in front of him.

"Yeah, that Frenchy, almost got me today..." You chuckle out and he whips his head to you.

"WHAT?" He leans in to you and your almost touching noses. A flush goes over your face.

"He almost stabbed me, but before he tried anything I blasted him with my Desert Eagle." You lean away, embarrassed from the closeness. He grunts out and pats your head. The pats die down to hair tussles. He seemed calm and the last thing you wanted from him was to be yelled at, so you stay still. His calloused fingers would caress your scalp and would swirl your locks.

"I don’t want that sonabitch touching you, got that private?" He gives you a serious glare and curves his lips into a frown. You flash back to when your dad had to give you the 'Stranger Danger' talk; it felt strikingly similar and you replied with that nod you did years ago. He smiles before standing up with his 3rd bottle in hand. He's careful with his steps as he walks across the porch to the entrance.

"Sarge?" He turns around and you quickly pick up his helmet and you hand it to him slowly. He takes it graciously but still stares down at you. That flush again floats to your cheeks when you watch him angle his hat, covering those eyes. He lets out a hearty chuckle and grabs your wrist pulling you toward him. He seemed hesitant to what he was doing but continued to lean toward you and pecked you on the cheek. He was gentle and you were almost taken aback, but you knew it was that unknown Soldier. Before he pulled back you grab those helmet buckles and force lips together. You press his body to yours and you feel lightheaded by how this all feels. Those giant hands snaked around your waist pull you up to his chest for you to wrap your legs around him. That tongue of his, was pure torment. You push that horrible eye shield off his head and pull that prickly head to you. His stubble tickled you when he'd rub against your neck passionately.

You were so drawn into it, that when he pulled away you moaned. Eyes snapped open, you look at him curiously when he places you to your feet. He bent over to retrieve his helmet.

"Not here. There's too much at risk." His rough hand softly wipes your cheek. "My room 23 hundred hours." Grabbing his helmet he faces back at you. Giving a chaste light kiss to your forehead he places his helmet back on and stomps back to the base. Now you stood on the manmade track, dazed from the tender kiss and covering your face with your hand.

________________________________________
"'Kay thanks!" You shut the door behind you. Apparently you weren't smart enough to know when 23 hundred hours was and had to go ask Medic. Of course, it was weird cause he thought you were giving up your body for science, only to reject him and ask your question. He was puzzled at the question and asked if you were sure you didn't want to. Leaving that office was best thing you've ever done in your life...well, second. You head back to your room, you had an hour to kill and nothing to do. Walking around the small dorm you realize you have nothing interesting except your guns. Your Desert Eagle and your light weight shotgun. You sat on your bed looking at the wall thinking about nothing when you feel your eyes become heavy.

"Oh NO! You're not falling asleep that easily."You stand up and walk out your door into the hallway. Looking around for any watchers you tiptoe to the other side of the base. There the Soldier resigns near the security room, for any updated emergencies. Your steps loose it's pace as you draw closer to the door and your heart is pounding loudly in your ears. There it was. His door. In front of you. You gulp down a sigh and knock 4 times on the cold metal door. After a few seconds, there's silence. Thinking he stood you up, you hear a 'who is it'. Another gulp.

"It's me...can I come in?" A pause.

"Permission Granted." He gruffles out. You let out a tittered sigh and open the door. The smell of gun polisher was strong when you walk in, but not as strong as the stuff Heavy cleans Sasha with. Closing the door softly behind you, you see the room actually clean. You've been in here once before, when it was trashed. The Soldier was hunched over his desk, pouring in a black powder and other explosive chemicals into one of his grenades.


"You're early, Maggot." He responds not glancing back at you. Your heart races again.

"I couldn't concentrate." You respond lamely. He grunts and continues with his work. You seat yourself on his bed and watch him.

The silence was tormenting and you wanted to talk to him, hear another one of his stories, anything but silence. Legs crossed you plant you head on your hand, trying to keep yourself awake. You give up and drift off in dreamland for a minute. The silence of the room was to calming when a sudden ring from a clock wakes you and you turn to the Soldier still at his desk. He stops what he's doing and clicks off the alarm before he stands and stretches. He was still wearing his helmet but he had dispatched his boots and jacket leaving him in a plain white shirt and combat pants. Slowly he puts down his helmet and tackles you on to the bed. The action brings you to your full attention and he chuckles. He straddles you and kisses up and down your neck. Your already moaning, your hands begin to travel up his clothed chest. A throaty chuckle vibrates against your neck and you shudder.

" Persistent, aren't we?" He kisses your neck and you feel his hand snake up your shirt.

"L-like you aren't~" You can hardly talk when he tenderly nibbles your earlobe and plays with your nipples. He stares down at you like a predator.

"You haven't seen persistent yet, Maggot!" He attacks your mouth and chills rush through your body when he suckles your tongue. Once you have your tongue back he kisses down you jaw line to your chest. Slyly he'd capture one of your nubs and trace around it with his tongue. Your arms grip him closer as you pant out his name and go into a light sweat. He sucks harder in response then returns to your mouth for another round of 'conquer'.

Your hands shakily roam his body, being a little new to this you approach things with caution and while pulling up his shirt, you hesitate. But his hand grabs yours and pushes it underneath reassuringly. You feel his skin and chest hairs, but what really catches your attention was his scars. Your fingers outline the soft tissue and you hear him moan approvingly above you. His tongue swirled around yours in a dance for dominance and you played along knowing well who was dominant. Your hand travels lower to find the rim of his pants. You pull away.

"Do you..want me to...um..." Your face turns as red as your uniform. His hearty laugh rumbles in his chest.

"That's not my decision, now is it, private?" He does a grin and rolls over so you’re on top. You look down at him, his attention was all on you and you inch your way down south. You pluck the button and slide down the zipper. Pulling down his pants and underwear in unison you peer down at his manhood. It was HUGE...he was already hard and his tip was leaking. You peer up at him and he's smirking snarkily at you. First you let your hands feel the warm flesh, and you hear the other growl out in pleasure. Pumping slowly, you replace your fingers with your tongue. Kissing at first you begin to lick the tip and swirl your tongue on his head. Soldier's hips would rock in the beat, while his fingers weaved themselves in your hair. You can feel him so close but before you could finish he pulls you up and captures your mouth in a deep kiss.

His hand dives into your pants, past your underwear, and starts to stroke your entrance. He flicks his fingers over that one sensitive area and your already pushing onto his hand begging for him. His fingers curled and scissored, twisting your hole farther smirks and with his other hand he grasps your chin and makes you look at him.

"There's no turning back now, got it?" He sharply says pulling out of you so he could seat you on his lap.

"Sir yes, sir." You smile back and kiss him. Laying you down he pulls off your pants and hovers over you like a lion. He gives a peck to your lips before sliding in . A gasp escapes you when you remember how big he was. He leans over to kiss your neck and you pull him closer. Solly throws your legs on his shoulders and slowly penetrates you. Each thrust became even better than the last and already you're telling him 'harder'. He obliges and your quiet pants turn into loud moans echoing off his walls with his own groans of bliss. Your both near the edge when he begins to ram harder and faster into you, he'd find your mouth again capturing your moans. Your orgasm hits you first as the waves of pure pleasant feelings put you into multiple spasms. He follows after, resting his head on your shoulder as he releases inside you.

Your breathing is all that is heard in the room before he slicks out of you easily. Carefully grabbing your body he pulls the covers out from under you and brings you back to the bed. One arm is flung over you protectively in way that calms you.

"How's that for special training?" You chuckle out and you feel him smirk into your hair.

"I don't know...I think you should practice your technique some more..."Your eyes open and you look up at him with a smile.

"Practice?" He chuckles before giving you a soft kiss.

Anyone know of a certain Engineer and You fic?
I think it might of been the first class and you fic to be made, i'm not quite sure...

I DEMAND MORE SOLDIE X YOU.

We need some more you and class fics. Especially youxmedic or youxpyro.

>>105
I think the one you are thinking of is called "sweet dreams".

104 It's called Lovely Hazel by EatingClouds
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5717539/1/

Another one by EatingClouds called Secret Waltz. With author's notes
~~~~~


Rawr. Im back with vengence, and a knife!

Yes, a Spy and You story. I already had started typing this then stopped and thought "Why the hell not?" and finished it...

And yes, I have nothing better to do...

Team Fortress is property of Valve, and this is just a mere fan made story.

Roaming the BLU Base was a calming hobby you did before each battle, it lets you clear your mind and get use to your surroundings. Your metal-padded BLU boots would clank from your slow steps and echo off the grey walls. You took your time, looking through every door that came into view; just to satisfy your curiosity. Most of what was in these rooms were empty dorms and cleaning supplies. You started this pass-time when you were first starting and when you had nothing better to do. Every morning you did this, you wish you had something more productive to do.

Mentally you knew that this was about the time you'd turn around for breakfast, but your to content to be pulled back to reality. This (and sleeping) was the most rest you get when you were sent here. So continuing down the hallway, farther than you've ever ventured. Every corner that you turned was a wave of excitement and adventure that you havent experienced since you were a kid. Of course Fort 2 was exciting, but it felt more like a wave of alarm than that childish excitement you haven't felt in so long.

Your pace quickens, and you notice it's because of the most delightful sound you haven't heard in months. Music. The chilling tune makes you halt; the sound was haunting to your ears like an old toy. Almost 2 months without the sound of instruments playing together and your stunned to know how much it effects you. Taking a quick glance around for the source, you lean to the grey walls and close your eyes. Your feet direct you over frames of doors and your fingers graze the wall paper like it were a page from a book.

The music contiunes to get louder until you're sure that you're as close as you can get to it. You look up to see you've stopped on a door and did not hesitate to turn the handle. A sqeak echoed from the other side when you push the wood forward. The darkness and music welcome you and are practically lending you a hand to venture further into the dark chamber. You take a quick suck of air before stepping down deeper than you would have liked. Almost falling over head first, you grip a handle to see a small stair case leading downward. After another gulp of air you strive downward to a faint light.

A piano, along with violins, are audible as you blindly make your way to the light. You note that it isn't like live performed music, in the distant are the sounds of dips like on a record plaer. A door with a tiny window near it's top, shows in the light with shadows moving across. The first thing you do is press your ear against the door to hear more of it. You felt so deprived, music was a big influence in your life and was what put you to sleep at night. The window overhead beckons your curiosity; whispering answers you wanted...needed. Quickly your tip toes pull your eyes into view to the other side for a glance, and what you see makes you gasp.

Inside the dim room was a gleaming record player; amost new. Across from it was an extremely old table with it's corners chipped and eveything. It was pretty empty, to say the least, except for one form. The Spy. The frenchmen's BLU coat was thrown over the, equally chipped, chair provided; along with his tie. Leaving him in his button up shirt and dark blue vest. But it isn't his casualty that takes you aback, it's what he's doing. His movements, were more than precise as he waltzes with an invisible partner. In concentration, he'd move in beat with the music as the violins took over.

On the other side of the door, you're glad he cannot see you. With your mouth open and eyes burning from staring, you'd continue to watch. The masked man was a symbol of a gentlemen and what you see, never felt so alien to you. His eyes were closed in bliss, totally focused on the melody and his partner. His feet had a mind of there own! Every step was planned out and precise just like one of his killing sprees. The tips of your toes ached from the uncomfortable position but you dare not look away for he's never looked so gentle.

"Mission begins in 5 minutes." The dry voice echoes through the corridors, startling you slightly. The Admin's voice can be quite disturbing. You hear the music stop and so does Spy after closing his feet together before he bows to the invisible lady. Tightening his gloves, he makes a quick glance to a clock near the door before he catches sight of you. With your fingers clinging to the bottom frame of the window, you watch as he makes his way to the table, eyes still on you, before you book it. Running into the nothingness had your heart already thumping like crazy and when you hear the door slam behind you, it increases the tempo by 34%.

The outline of the door was in view and you think your gonna make it until you hit an unseen wall. You let out a grunt and suddenly your rammed into the wall with a hand on your shoulder. Your squinting until he flicks on his lighter, bring the flame to his lips to lick the tobacco object. With his face in a shadowy view, you see him staring at you bored, twirling the cigarette with his tongue.

"Well, it zeemz we 'ave a wonderer. Tell me, mon cher. 'Ow much did you zee?" You look back to the hand on your shoulder and notice the butterfly knife hazardly close to your neck. "Well?" You look back to only feel the cold steel against the pulse in your neck. He flicks the light closed, it's pitch black.

"I-I wont tell..." It's all you could let out, being interrogated by someone as cool and suductive as him was over-whelming. He lets out a chuckle before pulling away from you.

"I know you wont... because if you do..." You feel him grab your chin and pull him toward his face. The scent of cologne sends shivers down your spine. "I will 'ave to skin you while I burn you alive...everyday." A different set of chills makes you quiver; whether you respawned or not, it still hurts to die slowly. You respond with a nod.

"It zeemz you are good at eavesdropping and taking ordeurs..." He lets out a considerable 'hmmm'. "...i like you." He states simply before heading off to the door. You watch him leave after he gives a quick smirk to you.

"Mission begins in 60 seconds." The unpleasant voice wakes you from your moment of 'awe' and you bolt out the door to retrieve your weapon.

"And that mother fucker tried to pull a fast one at me, but I was like 'Sorry, handsome. But your looks wont help you here!' before I 'boinked' his brains outta his sockets!" Another one of Scout's amazing stories again. Your hand randomly picks up food with the fork and shoves it in your mouth. Looking around you, you see everyone dirty from battle: except Spy Your eyes wandered across the table to him and you feel your heart jump. He looked at his food dully, picking up what was suitable for him and eating it slowly. He glances at you and you panic. Seeing those lips twist into a smile nearly makes you choke on your food.

"What th' fucks th' matter wit you? I'm trying to tell an amazing freakin' story here!" He points to the table as if you could see his amazingness. You let out an ironic 'of course' before turning to put your dishes in the sink. Trying to leave the room ASAP, you continue down a different hall from from this morning. Your systems start to cool as you let your mind wander from your usual thoughts to the Spy and his dancing. Thinking it was easy you stop in your tracks you pick up your feet to mimick his movements. Of course, you should never rely on memory to copy something, even if what it was looks easy to do. Already feeling a little silly, you lift your arms pretending to be holding onto another while you move side to side. It was harder than it looked and you thought to much about your next movements making you mess up and having to start over. But you imagine the music still playing and your steps more confident from each step.

"'Ave you neveur danced in your life?" Your back straightens and you turn around to see the frenchmen leaning on the wall fingering a cigarette. His handsome chuckle causes you to gulp down.

"I've never done it. It seemed to..." You draw off when you see him approach you.

"Pardon? Did it zeem too difficult? Too weak?" He reaches for your hand and pulls it up to shoulder height. "Permettez-moi de vous montrer..."(1) He grasps the your other hand and presses it to his arm; mid way to his shoulder. Your face feels like it's burning when you stare up to that beautifully smug face. In your mind you keep telling yourself "this is just a crush that will pass, this is just a crush that will pass...', but inside your hoping it could be more. He pushes your feet together and he quietly tells you to repeat his movements from your point of view. At this point your just saying 'ok' and 'uh huh' just so he could talk to you more. You feel his free hand grab your waist, feeling the warmth makes you nervous and more confident with your steps. You concentrate on your feet trying to get the movements down, while you feel his eyes burning through your neck. It's a bit cramped in the hall but you both manage, you find yourself gradually becoming better and your enjoying it. With spy leading the whole time, he slows to a stop.

"You ztop zhe dance when you both end with your feet togezher." With your feet slightly apart you push them together with a 'clack'. He chuckles as he moves his hand from your waist. You try to hide a pout from the loss. With your other hand still in his gloved grasp he brings it to his lips and kisses it gently. "You aren't too bad at zhis, roturier."(2) Your dry mouth ambles you to say nothing as he pushes some hair from your eyes. "You should come practice with me more often, zay tomorrow morning?" You bring up your courage to let out a small smile.

"Of course." Satisfied with the answer he kisses your hand once more before he turns on his heel with an 'adieu'. You want to follow him but think against it. Conitinuing down the hallway, you dream of the possibilities of tomorrow.

There it was. The door thats lead you to an unknown and a comfort. You peer into the door window to see your heart's desire smoking a cigarette while toying with a pack of cards. You take a breath and twist the handle. The record player was barely audible, playing a song with a woman singing in french. His head lifts and he looks in your direction with a thoughtful smile.

"Good to zee you 'ave come, mon cher." He walks over to you and grabs your hand. But before he goes to kiss the back, you twist it around so you could give it a quick peck.

"The pleasures mine." You smile up to him and see his face amused from your courage. He obviously knows your game and intends to play it.

"Eager I zee. Well zhen, shall we start?" Nodding your head, he grabs hold of your left hand and brings it to his shoulder, the other is still in his grasp. "I will lead, someone as small as you would'nt be able to be dominant." You merely scoff off the comment and he replied with a hearty laugh. He turns up the player and has his attention all on you while he starts up the tempo. You try to keep up like yesterday and slowly your in beat with him. His eyes were half lidded watching you while you try to find something to look at. From the corner of your eye you see him frown.

"L'amour, concentrate on me. It will 'elp you keep your beat if you watch the other." Another blush unfolds on your face and you nod to him. Your eyes wandered up his chest to his masked face, with those secret eyes open to you. Minutes into the waltz and you realize he was right; watching the other was alot easier and calming. "I was wondering..." You perk up to see him puzzled about something.

"Yeah?" You almost forgot to lift your feet as he pulls you into circle of movements.

"Would you be interested in being my dance partneur?" He stops and you barely remember to stop with both feet together. His raccoon eyes still watch you,.

"Are you sure? I'm not an expert on this, there's probably-"

"Zhat is why you will learn from me, and if you 'onestly zhink zhat zhere will be a better person 'ere zhat would be it, zhen I'm all ears." He lifts his eyebrow before retrieving his cigarette from the ash tray. "Besides, I'm not interested in zhose baffoons being my partner, I was interested in you..." Your face heats up and you try to avoid eye contact but he grabs your face in his hands.

"I would be interested in you too..."He quirks his eyebrow again and smiles slightly and you catch yourself. "I mean! Being your partner and all that..." You mentally facepalm your head; your sober and your saying embarrassing stuff. He pulls you close to where your bodies are nearly touching. He pulls away, his touching lingering, and walks over to the record player and turns it off. The piano and singer die down and he looks to you.

"C'est magnifique." He states and grabs his coat form the chair before roaming over to you. "I will look forward to it..." Grabbing your hand he pulls it to his lips for a chaste kiss.

"Mission begins in 5 minutes." That shivering voice declared from the speakers, upstairs you could hear the steps of rushing comrads. With a quick nod he walks out of the room leaving you there to swim in your sweet fantasies. You looked at your hand, the one thats received more attention from the other, and give it a quick kiss.

A week has passed since you started your secret dancing lessons with the Spy. His pin striped uniform became a sign to your heart to beat ridiculously fast. On the battle field you noticed that he's been saving you more and more often. Not that you're complaining, the more you spend with him the more you feel relaxed with him; thankfully the teams to occupied with their lives to notice you two leaving the table together. You've already fallen head over heels for him but your not sure how he feels for you so you keep it casual and act like yourself.

"I'm very impressed with you, you've improved dramatically." Both of your heels clasp together.

"I've had a good teacher, this past week, show me the basics." You lets out laugh and you pull away. You notice him frown slightly when he turns around to turn the turn table down.

"I am very happy you zhink zhat..." He responds when he turns toward the table to grab his jacket. Patiently you wait as he flungs on the coat and starts looping his tie in swift movements. "But I always zhought zhat it wasn't who zhat teacher was but who zhe trainee zhought of zhey were, zhat made them excellent." Stunned at the remark you remember all those moments with him and how much you loved his company. You're at a loss of words while he makes his way toward you and pulls you close.

"What do you zhink of me? You are zhe student and I am your teacher..." Those fable eyes pierce you when you're that close to them. Your mouth is gapped as you try to respond with a suitable answer. "Or is it zhat you never zhought of me as a teacher in zhe beginning?" He leans closer to your neck and his moist breath causes you to shudder, this makes him smile. His lips pucker up to your jaw line where he stops.

"Souhaitez-vous me le permettez, pour vous prendre?"(3) His gentlemen voice was heaven but also alien as he spoke in the language of love. At the moment, you only knew one french word and it was oui and non. Noticing your blank stare, he gives you a wicked smile while playing with your bottom lip with his thumb. "I zhink your answer would be somewhere along zhe lines of 'I would love you to." He lunges for your mouth as you comprehend what he said. With your brain a few minutes slow, your body is fully aware with the situation. That expert tongue swirls with yours, his hands push you into the wall, making sure not to hurt you. He tasted of tobacco and mint and you never thought he'd be so much of a drug. Tobacco mixed with lust. Grinding you into the wall, small moans are captured by his mouth and you whine in response.

He moves back to your neck with his half clothed cheek streaking down your neck, quickly he begins to pull your shirt over your head. With your bare chest exposed he kiss down the middle and back up to brush against a nipple.

"Ahh!" You squint your eyes and relish the feeling. He gives it a lick before returning to your mouth, pulling your hands to his jacket. You feel the faint beating and grab the tie, undoing it while pulling him closer. Tossing the strip of blue material to the floor, you attack those damn buttons. His hand decided to help while his other began moving down to your pants. Once that last button clipped off, he shoves both jacket and collar shirt to the ground and rubs your bare skin to his. Your next destination was down south but before you could touch the pin striped pants he pulls you out of yours. Instantly you buck into him to hide your 'frustration' while he leans down to pull your pants off your legs. Your boots were already off since you got into the room, so thankfully there wasn't anything stopping him. He becomes face to face with your nether regions touching the sensitive flesh he licks. You grab his mask, trying not to mess it up was difficult especially when he began to finger your entrance. He kisses back up to meet your eyes in a loving way.

"Lets move zhe table." He said in a husky accent before picking you up and gently lying you ontop of the table. Returning back to your mouth, he feel his hand fumble with the zipper and buttons. You pull away to repay his pleasure by pulling down his left over clothing. You feel him watch you when he's completely nude with his member in full view. Grabbing the hard rod you give it a firm pump and watch as he quivers. You continue, pushing down harder and faster, you hear him stutter out french words and his breathy pants.

"Didn't AH~ I..t-tell you, you would (gasp) never be...dominant?" He breathes out with much difficulty and as merciful as it was you begin to play with the head.

"No. No, I dont recall. Want to remind me?" Your snarky reply earns your a dangerous smile and you feel him twitch in your hand before he swats you away. Your hands were pinned to your head while you feel the warm organ press against your entrance.

"With pleasure." He pushes in and you gasp out, trying to grab hold of him but to no vail. Before pulling back out he begins to grind into you, causing you both to growl out in extasy. Your legs pull him closer and he pulls all the way out before pushing back in. Skimming past that spot you moan out.

"Th-there!" He smiles, knowing who was boss, he pulls out to ram back in that spot. You respond with a wail and he kisses your head and ear whispering soft, foreigh words that bring you closer to the edge. Hands roam back to your chest, toying with your rock hard nipples. You lean into them while grabbing his neck and pleading out more pleasure. He pushes harder and faster in response, and you know your gonna cum soon. That prickly sensation down south was becoming more intense then ever. After a few more pushes you call out his name and grip tighter to his body while you go over the edge in an almost painful bliss.

Spy wasn't far behind, hissing as he came and filling you with his seed. He shivers when he falls on you and his sweat clings to you. Your pants and small spasms begin to decrease and the room becomes silent except for the music still playing. After a chaste kiss he pulls out he brings you to the ground against the wall. Grasping his jacket and shirt, he flings one over you and the other over both of your regions and has you lean against his chest. He reaches inside his suit pocket and pulls out a cigarette and lighter. You cant help but smile at the ironic gesture, when he lights it and takes a drag. His arm was still around you, he pulls you closer to his chest, hearing the thumping never seemed so comforting till now.

A new song began to play, one with wind instruments playing quietly, you close your eyes when he kisses you. You hope that pratice will always be like this.

(1) Let me show you...

(2)Commoner

(3)Would you allow me, to take you?

Jeez, I'm glad this is done...I go sleep. REVIEW PLEASE?

I am requesting for either more class/you threesome fics or
more Sniper/You fics with bondage.
Bonus if it includes Sniper using some of his skills as a tracker for dangerous game.

>>4

Me and Buuk wrote that a while back. Glad to see it's still relevant to people's interests.

I've been trying to write something with Sniper, but it keeps coming out crappy. I would love to see something involving him being hurt or something.

I'm thinking of writing a sniperx you, with bondage like everyone is asking for (cuz, you know thats really hot) but I kinda want a plot to comes down to it. I don't have any ideas. Suggestions?

>>113

Why not take the idea from >>111 and have the person caught in a snare normally reserved for trapping game? And you have to make a...bargain, per se, in order to get loose, with our favorite bushman.

>>114

This has merit.

>>114

That is a wonderful idea - I would love to see someone write that!

There's just not enough SniperxYou out there. I'd write some myself, but I'm afraid I'd do a horrible job of it.

Love all the fics so far. The latest Soldier x You one is probably my favorite so far.
So I have a bit of an odd request...does anybody have any noncon, dominant, or reluctance class x you fics? I know they're probably pretty hard to write, so I won't be surprised if nobody knows of any.
(Oh, and to clear up any confusion, I'm looking for one where you're the nonconsenting one. There are some ones that are pretty close on here, but not completely)

>>117 I have one that I retrieved from the old ClassxYou thread. This one's a SniperxYou in 1st person P.O.V. by Red Nurse.

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

You'd Best Keep Lyin' Down (written by Red Nurse)

My hands are tied together above me; my feet are tied together below. I can see him pacing a little ways away from me. It is dark in here; we are in some sort of enclosed space, perhaps a van. It is night outside, I know this.

My shirt is unbuttoned, and I am not wearing a bra. My breasts are exposed to the air. The temperature is stale, humid. I am tied to a wooden table. He paces.

Finally, he turns to look at me. Fully dressed, his hat tipped slightly back, sunglasses, a tidy vest. A very impressive getup. The walls are lined with weapons, mostly rifles, some swords...I am paralyzed with fear.

He walks closer to me as I stare up at him helplessly. What can I do? I struggle, but I am tied firmly. He smirks, sliding a finger down my face.

"Ain't ya a beauty, Sheila?" he says quietly, looking right at me. I struggle again, but I am too nervous to say anything. He moves up and around to my feet, and I watch his every move. Slowly, slowly, he climbs on top of me.

This is where my adrenaline takes the best of me. I speak, "W-what are you doing?" But he puts his hand over my mouth, and my eyes simply widen more.

"Ya best not overwork yourself, Sheila…you're gonna need your energy for this one." He orders me. He has a strong, rough voice, a recognizably Australian accent.

He slowly pulls his hand away from my mouth, and before I can even scream his lips lock against mine. He forces his tongue into my mouth, and I let him, whimpering. One of his hands moves to my breasts and toys with one of my nipples, and, in spite of myself, I become aroused. I am so ashamed.

Slowly, he kisses down my face, to my neck, and focuses there for a moment. I shout slightly, cry, and close my eyes. "I can't tell ya how excited I am to stick it in ya, Sheila…" He tells me as he moves lower and lowers down to my breasts. He pulls and squeezes them harshly, and I cry out. "Don't botha. No one can hear ya out here."

"That hurts! Please, stop!" I beg, but he ignores. He sucks on one of my nipples while squeezing the other breast, and I moan against my practical thinking, my girlhood dripping between my constricted legs.

"It's only gonna get worse, Sheila…might as well just shut up an lemme do this…" he lifts himself up and off of me, and begins to take of his vest and unbutton his shirt. I watch him in anguish, and my eyes travel down to his crotch…he is aroused. My stomach feels as though it has fallen.

"Please, don't!" I struggle against my bondage, but still to no avail. "I'll do anything, just, please, don't do this to me!" I beg, I plead, and he nods ever so slightly.

"Lemme see…" he steps away slightly, looking around our enclosed space, up on counters and through cupboards. "Ah hah." He pulls something out, and turns around so that I may see it. It is a medium sized jar, filled with yellow liquid. I blink, and he walks closer to me. "I promise I'll go easier on ya…if ya do this for me. Ya can either drink it, or…take a showa."

I widen my eyes in horror, but seriously consider this. I really, really do not want to drink…whatever it is. So, slowly, shaking in my bondage, I swallow and say, "I…y-you…pour it on me." I close my eyes tightly. He grins on the side of his mouth, and I shudder. He walks towards me, unscrews the lid, and pours it over my head and onto my breasts, dripping down over my hard nipples, dripping down and wetting my pants.

It is warm. It smells. It is piss. My fallen stomach churns.

"Oh look," he chuckles sadistically, "you're all wet. Might as well getcha outta those wet clothes, Sheila." I squirm again and again as he moves towards me, undoing the button on my shorts and pulling them down to my bound ankles. He left my panties on, and I quiver.

He pressed one of his long fingers on me and begins to stroke my, now very wet, girlhood through my panties. I shake, getting more and more aroused, but more and more upset at myself. His chucking is becoming hypnotic. I feel myself fading as he pulls down my panties to where my shorts are.

"I ain't done yet, Sheila…get ready." I feel very cold as I watch him unbutton and unzip his pants and pull out his manhood. It is a little above average size, and incredibly engorged. It feels as though I do not even have a stomach anymore; I am a virgin.

He gets much closer to me, until he is on top of me again, and parts my legs as much as he can against their binding, spreading me eagle. He takes a hold of his manhood and searches about with it in the dim lighting for the dripping hole of my girlhood, until he finds it and slips it in.

"Mmm, beautiful…" he moans, and I look up at him in horror. It is breaking pushing against the inner walls of my girlhood, until it reaches the most delicate point. "Ohh, a virgin, eh? Even betta. I promised I'd go easy on ya…" and, albeit slowly, he pushes through, and I feel it break. I cry out, struggle.

"I don't want this anymore! Please stop! It hurts so much! Please!" I cry things of this sort, and he increases his tempo of thrusting.

"Ah ah, no complainin." He says between moans, pressing harder and harder, faster and faster into me. "Mmm, Sheila, ya feel so damn good and tight…I reckon you're gonna get real used to lookin up at me." He continues to pound into me, his moans getting more and more intense as my squirms and squeaks match them. My whole body being forced by the movement, the sticky, warmth of the piss still dripping over me, mixing with sweat; my sweat from trauma, his from ecstasy.

He leans over me, kissing, biting, and licking my face and neck as he trusts into me. I struggle against the bindings on my hands, and find a loose point, which I work on against the force of being penetrated. Finally, I get my hands loose, and attempt to push him off of me, but to no avail. He is too strong, too focused. I grip onto the shirt on his back.

"Not gonna happen…mmm…" He is moaning, and tears begin to mix with the piss on my face. He is moving faster and faster, pounding into me. It hurts, but there is really nothing I can do. "You're bleedin…makin it even smootha for me…" His moans are becoming congested grunts. I look away, but every time I find myself looking back to his face.

"No! No, no, no! Stop!" I cry and whimper.

"Your pussy feels real great on my dingo," he sort of moans, sort of laughs, "bet my yella smells real bad, don't it?" He stares at me, before arching his head up and back. "Mmm…that's right…right there…real good, now…ohh-gahh…" he pauses sharply, and I feel a warm, fierce rush into my girlhood. He moans out loud, and I cry at the terrible sensation. He slows down, and then stops, still inside me.

One more sharp noise as he pulls out of me. He leans over me, breathing heavily, and I am panting below him. My arms, free, loosen from his shirt, and simply fall to my sides, and down. After a moment, he shifts really close to my face, his lips close to my ear, and whispers, "You just lost, Sheila."

>>118
This...wow. Exactly my type of fic. Thanks so much for posting!
Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my bunk.

That Sniper fic. Hot damn, son. So, first time posting on this thread, and i'm requesting a threesome/you fic, particularly
Spy/Pyro/You, or Spy/Medic/You, maybe?

I'm gonna humbly request more Heavy/You and Demo/You stuff. Pretty please? c:

>>121

Heavy/You over here as well.
Poker Night-themed, maybe...?

Agree with 121 and 122 - there is not enough of Demo/you and Heavy/you fics! We need more of those.

Aaand I lose my porn-writing virginity.

Miss Pauling/You
__

“Hello?” You push the door to the Administrator’s office open.

“Oh, come in,” someone calls back. You step in, half expecting to have a cigarette butt thrown at you. You’re surprised to see that the Administrator isn’t here. All her things are, but at her paper-covered desk there’s a petite brunette woman.

“Uh, hi. I’m looking for Miss Administrator?”

“Oh, ah, she’s not here, I’m sorry,” she says, shuffling through a file folder and pulling something out. “You’ll have to come back later.”

“Ah.” You watch her write something down and stuff the paper back in. You just bet the Administrator has her working like a slave. “Do you know when she’ll be back? She asked to see me.”

This gets her attention. She looks up at you and appears to remember something. “Oh, yes, that’s right.” She drops the notebook she’s holding and grabs a piece of paper from the corner of the desk. “Right. Um, here: BLU team member, disciplinary measures.”

You cock you eyebrow. “Really. For what, may I ask?” You would never talk back to the Administrator, but she’s so flustered it’s cute.

“It says here you, ah, got into a fight?” She pushes her glasses up her nose and glances up at you warily.

“It’s my job to fight,” you point out.

“With your own scout? In the kitchen?”

She makes a good point. “Ah, that. He took the last of the coffee; I was just defending what’s mine.” You need your morning caffeine fix, especially if massacring REDs is on the agenda.

She frowns. “Right. Well, ah, I’m supposed to punish you for undermining camaraderie.”

You can’t help but smirk. She’s clearly sneaking glances at the note from the Administrator. “You would have beaten him up too,” you tell her.

This gets a smile from her. “Ha, probably. He’s an obnoxious little guy.”

You step closer to her desk. She’s not too bad, for one of your crummy employers. “What’s my punishment?”

She straightens up. “No paid leave next week.”

You frown. It’s your friend’s birthday back home and you promised you’d be there. Shit.
She’s looking at you expectantly. Clearly this woman is used to waiting for orders.

“Hmm,” you say, “Is there any other punishment I can take instead?”

She arches an eyebrow. “Do you think Miss Administrator would give you a choice?”

“No, but I think you would.” You step closer to the desk and put on your best winning smile. “How about it?”

“I…no, I couldn’t. She would kill me.”

You bite your lip. Fair point, you wouldn’t want to disobey the announcer so obviously either. But at the same time you really need to be home next week.

“Please? You try to look as convincing as possible. You could just tell her that I’m here but let me leave.”

“I’m sorry, really. But I just can’t.”

This getting you nowhere, but you haven’t exhausted your arsenal yet.

“How about I give you something? In return?”

She rests her hand on her palm. “Like what?”

You eye the Mann Co. Gun Catalog perched on the corner of the desk. “I could let you into our armory.”

“That...” she trails off wistfully, “That would be fun…but no. Sorry”

“Please Miss? I really have to go home. It’s my friend’s birthday and I promised I would be there.”

She sighs.

“You must understand, right? What it’s like to be out here in the desert, surrounded with nobody but bloodthirsty mercenaries, missing your friends and family?”

She nods slightly. “I would love to go skating with Annie and Tess right about now…”

You seize this and rest your fingertips on the edge of the desk. “You know how I feel, alone out here, deprived of any close human contact from-” And then you get an idea so amazingly brilliant you resist the urge to give yourself a high-five.

“Alright,” you say, switching from wheedling to cocky certainty so abruptly she looks confused, “I have on offer you can’t refuse.”
Her puzzled look fades fast when you lean in towards her and lick your lips. “I… this is… is it okay?” she stammers.

“Of course,” you grin and say, “I’ll do /anything/.”

Her eyes widening at your blatancy is the last thing you see before you close yours and lean in to kiss her. Her lips are soft and coated with light lipstick. She recovers from the shock and kisses you back, slowly. She’s clearly inexperienced. You can imagine that working for the Administrator doesn’t involve much free time to get squinted with life’s pleasures.

Poor thing, you’ll just have to give her a break.

You pull back and step around the desk. She’s sitting on a swivel chair that’s patched up and has clearly seen better days. You drop to you knees at her feet and hook your finger under the hem of her purple dress.

“Care to help me out here?”

She nods and pulls the skirt up past her waist. She’s flushing as dark as the RED logo.

You rest one hand on her thigh and reach for her panties with your thumb. She gasps when you begin to rub her clit through the thin fabric. You sigh inwardly with relief that she’s enjoying this as much as you are; you can feel wetness through the cloth. You grin up at her.

“Can you do me another favor, Miss…Miss?”

She’s short of breath when she whispers, “Pauling.” You’re about to tell her your name, but realize she probably knows it already.

“Miss Pauling, can you lift your hips?”

She does and you pull her panties down past her knees. You shift as you feel yourself stirring with excitement.

Her pussy is a light pink, with thick lips. You reach forward and stroke her with your thumb, gliding up to her clit with ease. You circle the nub and glance up at her.
She’s staring down at you with rapt anticipation. She’s so quiet.

You slow down and sit back on your heel with a grin.

She squeezes her eyes shut and whispers, “Please?”

How could you refuse? You lean in and rest your hands next to her thighs, leaning in. You swirl your tongue around her inner lips, getting it wet. You close your eyes and enjoy the taste. She gasps as you move upwards and approach her clit slowly. You take your time getting there, enjoying the sound of her heavy breathing. When you flick your tongue against it, she groans and grabs your hair.

You grin. You press your tongue flat against the swollen nub and begin to lick it slowly.

“Mmh, ah,” she moans and pushes your hair out of your face. You stop and smile up at her.

“Thanks,” you say before getting back to work. You speed up your tongue against her clit. Still licking, you reach down for her right leg. You slip your hand under her thigh and lift, shifting her hips toward you.

You look up at her, but her eyes are closed. The look on her face is simply adorable. You move down, pressing your tongue against her opening so your nose is rubbing her clit. You push your tongue in slowly.

“Oh!” She sounds surprised, in a good way. You rub your tongue around in side her and push your nose against her. You keep this up, enjoying the sounds of her breathing and soft groans.

Man, you’re good.

She gets wetter and wetter against you. You’re reaching out with your tongue inside her when she pulls your hair and sits up.

“Ah!” she yells and you speed up, feeling her convulse around you. She moans loudly and her stomach tenses under the thin fabric of her dress.

When she comes down she relaxes and slumps against the back of the chair. You pull away and grin at her.

“That was, that was...” she pants.

“I’m glad,” you finish for her.

She sits up and pulls her dress down modestly. “I’ll tell the Administrator you’re here all week. You’ll be back after that, right?”

“Right. I’m really grateful,” you look her in the eyes.

“Maybe I’ll have to thank you again after.”

I suppose the hypothetical "you" in this is a mercenary and, thus, probably a male, but... I like how that's left sort of ambiguous. Hehehe....

Yes, good. This is how you do sex with a lady.

>>120
I would kill for a spy/pyro/you threesome fic.

>>118
Surprised someone re-post this with out editing it or something. I was kinda appalled when I saw "girl hood", we are all over 18 here. There is no reason for that term to ever be used seriously in this context. I'm not trying to start a flame war, I'm just saying that on a site that tries to enforce its 18+ rule I'm surprised that no one has said anything about this.

This thread needs more Soldier x you. Also,currently working on a Sniper x you, hope it turns out okay.

>>128

I think that word choice was more to do with the character's personality than age. The use of "girlhood" was supposed to imply that the "you" in the story was a more innocent character than Sniper, who acted and spoke in a crude manner. I actually liked that way of showing the different personalities of the characters.

>>129

Awesome! I can't wait to read it when it's done!

Aw, please don't let this thread be dead, it's too awesome to be discontinued!

Well I guess now it's been bumped, anyone feel confident enough to write a Merasmus x you fic? I'd really like to but I'm not that great...but I'd really love to read one!

That'd be interesting to read; seconding!

>>104

"Your eyes shit tightly"

That will be all

Soooo someone bumped an almost year old thread even though there's a more recent one floating around... I got excited when I saw a thread of this topic finally bumped only to be let down by someone who carelessly forgot to sage.

>>135
Would it be possible to link us up to the new one? It's kind of difficult finding a specific thread here at times.
>>132 I guess I could give that pairing a try, but it's the smut that's hard to write in my case.

>>136
Mind saging next time? Please?
Since I'm not sure how to link to other threads (or if there's even a way), /res/12946.html is what you want. It was only on the second page.

(Unrelated, but Captcha: Contributo ifesov... I guess that's a hint for what to do now?)

>>136
and here's the link
http://tf2chan.net/afanfic/res/12946.html

>>137 >>138
Thanks.

>>139
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ja06DJrFe5E

Sage for fucks sake. Please read up on site rules. Unless you are the author, please just type SAGE into the Email box. THANK YOU.