Basically I've been double dared by some of my best friends to write a TF2 fic for NaNoWriMo. For those few of you who don't know what it is, it's National Novel Writing Month. I'm going to be writing 50K words of TF2 fic. And I'm not allowed a plot. Thanks guys. FIRST UP: Pyro/Engie. WORD COUNT: 1010 --- It didn’t take Pyro long to waddle back from the battlefield. He pulled his gas mask off somewhere between the main doors and the resupply where he leaves his oxygen tanks and extra ammo. The flamethrower and flaregun are carried back to his room where they’re left lovingly on a sheet next to his bed where they’d be rigorously cleaned and put back together before the next battle. It is, however, the weekend. And it is Pyro’s weekend. He had it all to himself, to do what he wants with it. Half way to Engineer’s workshop and Pyro had already pulled his gloves and jacket off. The rubber-asbestos clothing is nothing if not useful, fire retardant and infinitely more difficult to rip through with a knife. He ties the jacket around his waist, trying not to think about the way his skin looked blistered in the light. No one cared if he was a scarred monstrosity here, especially if 3/4 of the time they couldn’t understand him. The mask made it hard enough, the fact that his voice was permanently damaged and came out in a harsh growl was worse. And still, no one cared. Spy was burnt up his left side too and Engineer routinely removed his right hand to replace it with a metal one. Medic kept doves in the infirmary (Pyro liked to feed them). Everyone had their oddities and Pyro loved them all for it. Roughly two thirds of the way to the workshop, Pyro began to unclasp the braces that held his baggy trousers up. They fell around his legs on both sides and Pyro felt pretty silly wandering around half undressed, but no one really travelled this way. Just him and Engineer. Pulling off the tank top too, Pyro wondered what things Engie would have to play with today. In recent visits, Pyro had been surprised by a dexterous machine with what could only be described as <i>tentacles.</i> He balled the shirt up in his hands and snickered with mirth, eager to get there. He could only waddle so fast, despite the raw strength he had built up after hefting his flamethrower around for so long and was fairly out of breath by the time he reached the workshop and his trousers were starting to fall down without the suspenders to help them stay up. That was okay; he wouldn’t be wearing them for much longer anyway and knocked loudly on Engie’s door. The great metal thing swung open and a cautious, shaved head poked out. Pyro was always amused by the lack of hair and patted it with an ungloved hand. Engie could only shake his head and invite his friend inside. Inside was a haven of glorious technology, not one bit of it could Pyro understand but he loved it anyway. The shirt and jacket, gloves and boots were left at the nearest available space on the floor (there weren’t many) and Pyro contented himself to tiptoe over precariously balanced pieces of machinery in only his socks and a baggy pair of red squeaky trousers. He hoiked them up with one hand as he followed Engineer to the door at the back of the room. There were two, one to the bedroom and one to the more private workshop. A large black toolbox in the corner told Pyro that the tentacle machine had been set away and something new and different had been set up in its place. The new machine was a thing of beauty. Pyro’s head tilted a little sideways as he surveyed it, fingertips scratching at his scarred chin and his lips puckered in thought. Engineer always would ask him what he thought about it and every time Pyro would shrug and suggest they test it out first. This time was no different, especially as Pyro began to climb out of his trousers and underwear. The machine began to rumble and vibrate slightly as it started up. Engineer sat on his stool, to the left of Pyro and the great big machine. He thumbed the controls without even looking at them and the moment Pyro had rid himself of his clothes the machine snatched him up and set him down on a plush chair. The chair, however, was a little modified. It tilted backwards, bent Pyro slightly at the waist and the recliner part for his legs was split in two. When bands clicked into place around his wrists, arms and legs, Pyro began to feel a little tense. It wasn’t a bad feeling, the anticipation gurgling in his stomach, but it wasn’t the best feeling. No, that would come later. He looked to Engineer, who was fiddling with his controls again. The machine’s whirring slowed down to a constant background purr finally, allowing Pyro to settle in the chair without feeling like his organs were being jostled. Almost as soon as he had relaxed, a cool, slick sensation slid along Pyro’s ass, like a tongue that had had an ice cube resting on it. It dribbled and squirmed it’s way around until Pyro let his head fall back and just <i>moan.</i> His damaged throat reverberated with it, joined with Engineer’s evil-sounding chuckles. The slick object slid inside him and squirted the slippery fluid until Pyro could feel it dripping from inside. He couldn’t hear the wet drip onto the floor but he could well enough imagine it. Something parted his cheeks, another thing prodded and slid and pushed inexplicably slowly until Pyro was groaning and moaning and <i>obviously not begging.</i> The thick, gloriously full sensation didn’t let up. Not even when Pyro’s eyes closed and something else slippery closed around his aching cock (he wasn’t the biggest, Engineer called him ‘compact’) and the rushing, heady feelings were going straight to Pyro’s head. He writhed and squirmed and pushed and bucked until it all exploded in a brief flash of white that left Pyro panting with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, just ever so slightly. Engineer’s smirk of success from the corner was worth the slippery burn.
Really good for having a limited amount of characters. Me and my machine-fetish thank you.
Pyro porn is always appreciated! As is sex-toy-maker Engineer! This was great, and I look forward to whatever else you come up with.
Ooh, playful Engie/Pyro? 'Interesting' machines? Liking this.
I hope nobody thinks what I'm writing is serious anymore 'cause I don't even know what's going on. PART TWO: Engie/Pyro again with a side order of entire team is gay. WORD COUNT: 2,044 --- The machine set Pyro down on the floor, where Engie let the man lean against him. Pyro’s ragged breathing filled the workshop now that the machine was powered down (although it would be fairly loud when he finally packed it away). He pet Pyro’s scruffy hair until it looked like he’d recovered long enough to stand up on his own. From there, he accompanied Engineer to his bedroom. Pyro knew full well what the displays did to Engineer, how the whirr of his machines combined with another’s sexual noises affected the normally fairly calm Texan. He lay on the bed, or really collapsed into it, face down and smiling. Engie took his time. He set his goggles aside and tugged off the work gloves- a human hand today, just for Pyro- and began stripping himself of his restrictive clothing. The clink of metal made Pyro quiver with anticipation. He wouldn’t become fully aroused again so soon after a thorough fucking but that wouldn’t stop him from enjoying the sensations that Engineer gave him. A soft touch across his back, ghosting over bleach-white scars and healed skin. The touch trails further down to where Pyro still feels slick and wet. It prods insistently, further and further inwards and Pyro encourages it with quiet noises and a hitching of breath. There’s a brief reprieve of Engineer’s humming, as if he was assessing the way Pyro’s shoulders hunched and his ass pushed back towards the invading fingers. Another slow, slick slide made Pyro gasp and twitch slightly. The blunt push made him groan, Engineer’s own noises mixing in the already steamy air until it was just a cacophony of human noise and sex and lewd squelching. Engineer thrust hard, as hard as he dared- although he knew Pyro could take it- and muttered endearments while the sweaty body underneath him let out streams of pleasured curses in a thick British accent. Time just seemed to freeze for the two in their room that smelt of musk and sweat. Nothing mattered, not the war, not their teammates, not their lives outside of this one tiny pinprick bubble. And when Engineer finally came in rivulets across Pyro’s back it still didn’t. Pyro cleaned up, wandering around the room with a slight limp and his favourite awkward shuffle. He ran a damp rag around his legs where the lubricant dribbled. From the bed, he could hear Engineer’s quiet snoring. The man never managed to stay awake for long after their romps, but Pyro wasn’t the cuddly type so he didn’t care so much. He did stop for a moment to pull the sheets over his friend, and then shut the door on his way out. He gathered his clothes from the floor, pulling them on as he walked much in the same way he did when he first started for the workshop. He let his mask hang about his neck though, just because he could smell something tasty and onion-y being cooked in the kitchen. Oh, it was Demo’s turn to cook tonight. That meant rich food imbued with alcohols the names of which Pyro never remembered, especially not after he ate. Probably too many wines in the sauce and double that in the actual food. Pyro had watched him cook once (never again, his single eyebrow wanted to stay on his face) and he had deemed it a learning experience. Every member of the team had their own way of cooking. Pyro loved watching them all, especially Soldier. Not because he made the best food, but because the smell of burning delighted him. Everyone else would often ask how he could stand it, but one look at Pyro’s grinning face was all they needed to know. He was, after all, the member of their team that ran outside on his first day literally on fire and tackled the enemy Heavy to the floor (it turned out the man was highly unbalanced and more than once Scout had managed to make him crush his Medic accidentally). Pyro sat in the kitchen while he watched Demo (from a distance) and his displays of the cooking art. Off the field, the man was usually mostly sober but now he was taking a loud gulp of whatever he was spiking the cooking with every five minutes. It lit up light a beauty though and Pyro watched the flames lick the ceiling slightly. One of the things Pyro knew about fire was that it needed to be properly maintained. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Demo to not set the ceiling on fire but it wouldn’t have been the first time he had. The man was clearly showing off. In the end, there were two brief fire scares. Both times Pyro threatened to hit Demo with the fire extinguisher on the wall but the Scot just laughed it off and tried to get Pyro to try the wine. Then he called for dinner and the team flooded in as if they had been waiting behind the doors the whole time (Scout probably had been). The room filled with chatter, snorting laughs and hoarse chuckling. There were only a few brief intervals where everyone was just cramming food into their mouths and the quiet was enough to make Pyro smile to himself. It was moments like this that made Pyro glad he had taken this job (not that burning people for a living didn’t make it all worth it anyway). The team were a family, no matter how rag-tag they were and how angry they got with each other- admittedly that was mostly Soldier who just wanted to call everyone by terrible stereotypes- they stuck together. Especially when they were all drunk and Pyro somehow found himself wedged between Engineer and Demo, both their lips kissing scarred skin and somewhere to the right Medic was sucking Scout off and Heavy was inside the German and the wooden floor had a mattress on it but that was taken up by Sniper and Spy and Soldier was masturbating to the whole scene with his helmet still jammed over his eyes. Pyro wasn’t sure how this had exactly happened. But it felt good, so he went with it.
oh god hybrid is gonna die ...if you go through with this will it be a world record of most gay porn written by one person?
Oh yes. Dysfunctional team of fuck-buddies is the best kind of team. Just keep a close eye on your tenses, dahling, you still switch them up now and again!
>entire team is gay. My headcanon
You tend to switch between past and present tense a lot. Other than that, well done. There isn't enough Pyro in fandom, Pyro porn even less so.
>>7 >>9 Fucking- I keep doing that damnit. I swear I'm trying to keep on top of it but they slip past me when it hits two in the morning and I'm tired. Fuck this shit who wants to proof read this derp fest? >>6 Yes this may be what I'm going for. Not quite finished yet but for the next part I'm writing a bit of Spyro. I promise to put him back in much the same condition I found him it.
YES! Another WriMo!! I'm feeling a little better about not sending you the second chapter of Pet at the last minute now! I'm only here on a breif break between classes and my own writing, so I won't be able to allow myself to actually read it until I make my own quota. You can do it! There are thousands of other people who are doing the same thing right along with you to cheer you on! What's your user name on the NaNoWriMo site cause I have to add you to my buddy list! I'm magpie6. My personal goal this year is 100,000 words, so we can work at keeping each other sane. Maybe there could even be a few word wars!
>>11 Jesus, you write a lot faster than I do. I'm barely touching 3000 words right now and you and a friend have punched past 5000. 'Course it doesn't help that I just bought Terraria and now I'm distracted. Username is SleetFury, pretty much the same name I use all over the place.
UPDATE WOO. Part three: Still Entire team is gay, Spyro being a douche. Word count: 2990 --- Over the other side of the map, the other team were having their own problems. “But friendship is magic, faggots!†“I don’t care if friendship is the cure to fucking cancer; we ain’t watching fucking rainbow ponies!†“Only one of them is a rainbow mang! You should see her, you’re just like her!†It was that time of the week again, in which Scout and Spy fought over who got control over the television. Scout wanted to watch sports, Spy wanted to watch a new children’s show that had come out and he was all over. Scout grabbed the television remote out of Spy’s hands and switched the channel, then settled himself down on the sofa. Spy frowned although you couldn’t really see it underneath the black lenses of the Pyro mask and leapt on him, screaming something about drop bears. What followed was a mass of flailing limbs and a television remote that slipped out of the hands of everyone that tried to grab it. There was also a lot of screaming, shouting, something about a friendship beam (complete with a hand gesture that nobody really understood) and then Scout was thrown off of the sofa. “Dude I fucking hate you.†Scout sat up from his collapsed position on the floor and flipped Spy off. Spy just lounged and behind the gas mask he was grinning. The opening theme to the show started and, with nothing else to do, Scout lay there on the floor and watched with the other man. “What the shit is this?†He asked, five minutes into it. “Ponies.†Was all Spy offered by way of an explanation. Another five minutes passed and Scout looked back again, wondering why exactly Spy watched kid’s shows. He was about to question him again but Spy smacked him on the head with a glove and said, “Do a barrel roll, kid.†Scout was silent. He blinked and wondered what the hell he was on about. Spy didn’t elaborate, however, because the previously shy pony had just shouted down a dragon and now Scout didn’t know what was happening with anything. Back on the other base, Soldier had finished and had gone off to do Soldier-y things. Sniper and Spy were still taking up the one mattress, although now they were rubbing up against each other. Spy was on top of Sniper, his legs over Sniper’s hips. They were kissing furiously, tongues rolling around each other in the open air. Sniper’s hands clawed into the Frenchman’s ass, kneading the skin around his fingers and leaving nail marks in the flesh. Spy’s quiet panting wasn’t the only noise in the room as Scout was making a fair bit himself from where Medic’s lips were wrapped around his cock. The young man panted and writhed, splayed out on the hard wood floor. Medic’s fingers were inside him, just two, twisting and turning and thrusting harder with each loud cry the Scout gave out. He whined, leaning his head into his chest where the fine blond dusting of stubble brushed against his neck. He came with a content sigh and Medic swallowed everything, licking the last few drops that slid down the soft skin. Behind him, Heavy was still using his powerful muscles to slide into Medic quickly and powerfully. The two moaned and groaned together. Medic’s teeth were grit, grinding tight as he tried to hold on through the Heavy’s near-assault. His arms collapsed underneath himself, legs going dead too but Heavy’s massive hands kept him upright. His great paws dug into Medic’s hips and the German shook with pleasure. Pyro, sandwiched between two men as he was, was perfectly content to just kneel there and let the others have their way with him. His scarred lips brushed against Demoman’s while the Scot supported him by his waist with one hand, the other around his cock. Engineer behind him was jerking himself and Pyro off, human hands warm against the skin that was cooling in the night air. At least they weren’t at Coldfront! Pyro braced himself against Demoman’s shoulders, a warm splatter suddenly spreading down his chest as the other man finished. In the end, when everyone was satiated and calm, most of them left to their own rooms. Medic left with Heavy, hand in hand, but also with Scout following like a yapping puppy. Sniper and Spy never left the comfort of the mattress but Pyro joined them. He flopped in between them, effectively breaking up the cuddling couple. Demo passed out where he’d fallen and Engineer left to his workshop after a final ruffle of Pyro’s wispy hair and left a blanket over the three of them. After some cursory grumbling in thick Australian and French respectively, they settled down for the night. Pyro knew some time during the night or possibly the early morning, Sniper and Spy would leave and disappear to some part of the base but he didn’t mind because then he had the entire mattress to himself and could curl into a content little ball under the thick blanket. He got up early in the mornings himself anyway and his chem suit was only just out of reach where he was now. He thought about putting his mask back on, but his mattress buddies would probably kick him out for it and he was too warm to want to leave them. Besides, the two had curled around him, hands joined over his stomach and over a particularly large bloom of scarring. Pyro thought it looked very pretty. Aesthetic. He wondered if his friends would let him cut their hands off like that and preserve them, but it didn’t seem likely.
And again. I'm having too much fun with this Pyro. I guess I needed a main character and Pyro does need more love. Still want to know if anyone will look over these things for grammar shit, I dunno. I don't actually care, this is just a load of derp to me. Part four: Scout versus Scout and Engie and Pyro plan something nasty for the enemy Spy. Word count: 4,005 --- The next day, everyone met in the resupply area after a hearty breakfast that Pyro had cooked not long after Sniper and Spy had left him alone. Heavy patted his gun, giving her one last check before the battle (Pyro doing similar, but he’d made sure the flamethrower was clean and ready last night before the team had gotten together) and Medic was already concentrating his Medigun beam on the other members of his team. The sirens went off, the Administrator calling the battle start over the entire field. Together everyone called their respective battle cries, a surge of adrenaline coursing up through their bodies. Pyro sent a wide arc of fire over everyone’s heads as he ran, purely for the look of it, and Spy vanished in a puff of coloured smoke. Medic followed Soldier and Heavy; Engineer took off for the first point with a heavy tool box in his arms and Scout was gone before anyone noticed. He had his own battle to fight. Yesterday Scout’s opposite number had gotten a lucky hit in, killing Scout seconds before the end of the battle. He wasn’t happy. Soft padded trainers took Scout over the rough ground quickly. The first point was surrounded by an ugly grassy patch, well worn by the mercenary’s constant running over it. The second was covered by a smallish building but that building connected to a large courtyard where the third point was. It was lined by heavy containers, filled with something (but Scout didn’t know what, he didn’t actually care). That was where he’d see his counterpart, he always did. They ran the same; both of them would get there at almost the same time every day and it pissed him off. He wanted to be better damnit! As he skidded to a halt near the third point he locked eyes with the other Scout who had done much the same thing. He grinned, a cocky smirk over his features. Quietly, Scout growled. They both ran at the point, identical weapons drawn and firing. Scout wasn’t sure where some of the bullets he fired went, those first few shots must have missed him by millimetres because he saw the other’s hair ruffle. A leaden thud hit his shoulder but he ignored it. It would hit that he’d actually been shot later; right now he and his counterpart were busy. They threw their weapons aside and launched themselves at each other. A fist hit his jaw moments before his own smacked into the underside of his opponent’s. Neither of them were impeded by the damage already done. Someone was bleeding; it had splattered over the white light in the center of the point. An explosion had blown their clothes about but they’d ignored it and instead leapt on each other. Scout fastened his teeth around the other’s ear and bit hard but a swift punch to his stomach made him retract away with the taste of blood thick in his mouth. “You son of a bitch!†The other Scout swore a long stream of curses that would make a sailor blush pouring out of his mouth while he cradled his bleeding ear. Scout grinned, pulling his dented metal bat from the bag he wore and spat the chunk of ear out on the ground. Ew, earwax. The other Scout didn’t get a chance to react, the bat coming down on his head with a wet smack. His legs crumpled underneath him and Scout didn’t let up until brain matter had gotten on his trainers and up his legs. A warm feeling spread over him, making him look up at Medic who was focusing the Medigun’s beam on him. “You’ve been shot, dummkopf.†The German said, his eyebrows raised. Scout simply shrugged it off. There was probably a bullet embedded in his shoulder but that would be fixed if he was milled through respawn by the rapidly approaching enemy Heavy. Which he was. Fairly quickly. Back with Engineer and his sentry, on the second point, Pyro was stalking back and forward like an angry cat. There was a Spy around here. Every tingling nerve in the back of his neck said there was. Engineer was feeling the paranoia too. He kept his back to the wall, watching Pyro’s angry puffs of flames in the corners every now and then. Sometimes he’d return to the dispenser Engineer had set up and plug in the fuel pump. That would leave them almost defenceless for a few tense moments. Engineer could take care of himself but he relied on Pyro to check the surrounding area. Once or twice the siren for a point cap would go off but it would stop almost as soon as it had begun. The enemy were putting up a strong defence today. All of a sudden, a loud crack and fizzle filled the air. Pyro was on automatic alert. The Spy had shown himself. He filled the room with a blaze of fire, spinning quickly just in case while Engineer smacked the sapper off of his precious fizzling sentry. A shimmer of cloak ducked underneath Pyro’s arc of flame, just bright enough for Pyro to see. He kicked, roughly in the direction that the Spy had been in and let out a shout of success when his steel toed boot thudded into contact with a bony man. The cloak flickered and disappeared, revealing an unconscious and bleeding man. Pyro’s boot had hit his head dead on. “Nice shot partner.†Engineer congratulated him with a pat on the back. Pyro felt supremely pleased with himself, laughing behind his gas mask. “What do you want to do with the guy?†The laugh quickly became evil. There was so much Pyro wanted to do to the Spy. Some of it he wanted to do to his own Spy but his team always looked down on him when he threatened to take his head off with an axe and use it as decoration. Now, however, he had his chance to get down and gritty with the man he loathed above all others.
I do have a bit of an advantage seeing as this is my seventh year doing NaNo, and I have won every year so far! And this was a fantastic reward for writing my quota yesterday! Distractions are good if you use them as a reward for making your word quota, you just have to be careful about not letting indulging for too long or when you haven't written your goal yet. Plus, don't get discouraged by other people's word counts. There are a lot of overachievers but no one expects you to keep up with them. Also, whatever you do, DO NOT worry about editing during November! The point is to just write, you can always edit later. Also, fun fact! I was at the write-in that Sarah Mackey filmed that latest NaNoVideo at! You can't see me though cause I was behind other people.
>>15 Thanks Magpie. It's really great having you here to help root me on, that comment kicked a sudden insecurity ball in the face. Run out of ideas? Raid the request thread for unorthodox pairings and write more smut! PART SIX: Medic/Engineer and voyeur Archimedes (you know he would). WORD COUNT: 5016 --- When Spy awoke, his underwear was tied to the flagpole above the enemy’s base and the words ‘This is Pyro’s favourite ass’ were written along his hips in what looked like Sharpie. That was going to be a bitch to remove. Scout was bragging about his victory that day by standing on the table in the main room and shouting about it at a volume that could match the Soldier’s favourite marching tone. He lamented the fact that he didn’t see the Heavy that had killed him earlier, but not for long. Instead he focused on how he’d bitten a hole in the other Scout’s ear. He missed Spy’s look of disgust at that particular detail. Medic and Engineer took the chance to leave the others behind. They walked down to Medic’s infirmary, chatting together about various science-y things. Their banter was playful, Engineer only vaguely understood Medic’s half of the sciences and Medic had a similar sort of understanding about Engineer’s. Together they were working on a project; one they thought could benefit a lot of people. They thought it a good idea to test it on their own team first. Their partnership had started one day when, during Medic’s monthly check ups of the teams, Engineer had mentioned the way the team seemed a lot calmer after their occasional get-togethers and the way they worked a lot harder. Medic had pondered this while examining the blood sample he’d drawn from Engineer’s arm. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that perhaps a calmer person worked harder than an over-stressed person, but they had to gather far more conclusive data than a simple theory based on the way nine men in close proximity acted. Medic’s half of the project involved sedatives and calming gases and concoctions of various arousal inducing substances. Engineer’s half involved the machines he’d been testing on Pyro for the last few weeks. When they reached the infirmary, Medic pinned Engineer against the wall and glowered at him from under half lidded eyes. The arrangement hadn’t happened until late in their partnership, after Medic had ‘accidentally’ loosed some of the various chemicals he was using as a gaseous Viagra substitute. They had turned to each other and it quite simply fell into place. They kissed passionately, Medic still pinning Engineer to the wall with hands stronger than anyone expected. He pulled at the overall straps until they clicked and fell. They both tugged and pushed until the overalls fell and pooled around Engineer’s ankles, then Medic worked on the shirt buttons while Engineer struggled with Medic’s oversized lab coat. Soon all their clothes were gone and the two were pushing against each other, their fingers catching on soft skin and calloused skin alike. They rocked into each other’s grasp; Medic’s still gloved hand between them. It was liberally coated with the Vaseline left out on the side. The generally quiet Medic huffed and groaned, rocking faster and it was all Engineer could do to keep up with the blistering pace the German was setting. They grunted together, a bestial noise coming from the both of them as heat splattered across both their stomachs. After a moment, Medic pulled away and licked his glove clean. “Shall we be getting on?†he asked as he grabbed his clothes from the floor. Engineer nodded, still a little out of breath and shaking slightly where he braced himself against the wall. Medic had cleaned up and was shuffling around his infirmary, singing something in German. He seemed wonderfully content right then, with a good science partner and a low adrenaline buzz through his veins. Engineer watched until Medic had finished pottering and handed him a case, stuffed with a grey foam padding and glass vials. The vials held a clear liquid. “The liquid will turn gaseous on contact with the air, just spray it in Pyro’s face the next time you are with him ja?†The Texan nodded again. “Gotcha.†They had already designed the spray. It attached to the side of his lovely intricate machine with a long hose. It worked on a similar pump to Medic’s syringe guns. He was really looking forward to testing it out on his friend. Medic lovingly patted the fruits of his labours, and then returned to his station. A dove had settled on an intricate piece of machinery hanging from the ceiling and was peering at Engineer with its beady black eyes. “Well howdy Archimedes!†He presumed it was the dove. It was the only one that dared venture close when there were more people than Medic in the room. The German looked up from his paperwork and smiled and the cooing bird. “He likes you Herr.†Engineer laughed and shut the briefcase. “He just wants to nest in my chest again.†The bird had made it his life’s mission to make a nest out of someone’s chest cavity. His favourite place had been Scout’s and refused to move out after the surgery, even when Medic had cut the boy open again with the bone saw he wielded to get the bird out. “Perhaps.†Medic smirked and whistled, calling his favourite bird over. It landed on his head and threaded some of Medic’s hair through his beak. He’d stopped gelling his hair out of the way after procuring the doves, since they liked doing that so much. It had started with one dove, Medic’s collection, and that dove was Archimedes. It was why he was so friendly. Medic had found him outside during a ceasefire. A bullet had gone through his wing and the bird was unable to fly. He had spent so much time and effort into caring for the bird, even members of his team had begun to help look after it, that it was a sad day when he realised the bird was healthy again and could fly. But, when he went to release it Archimedes just sat there in the box and looked at him. Those little eyes fixed on Engineer again from across the room and the Texan smiled.
Just like to throw in how much I'm enjoying this fic, and how much I'm enjoying team orgy.
>After a moment, Medic pulled away and licked his glove clean. >It was liberally coated with the Vaseline Ewww! I love this story, though.
>>18 Whoops. Oh well, maybe it tastes nice to Medic (considering I had a peanut putter and chip -as in fries- sandwich today I can safely say I enjoy weirder).
Blame my girlfriend for the last bit on the end. She demanded the last fourty words be exactly that scene (although it turned out to be about eighty). PART SEVEN: Sniper/Scoutma/Spy WORD COUNT: 6,031 --- Sniper had been with Spy for nearly a year now. He wouldn’t call it love, but friends with benefits (and also some blossoming feelings but that was something better left alone. He knew Spy wasn’t exactly the right type to be getting in a full blown relationship with). And besides, sometimes he would be seen kissing the pretty belle that was the mother of the other team’s Scout when family were allowed to visit (rare occasions dreaded by all except both Scout’s mothers and perhaps the Spies they were enamoured with). Today was one of those days. Sniper could see Demo escorting his blind mother around the base and explaining why he wasn’t working right now (“It’s a family day mum. We’re still getting paid. Mum, please it’s okay. I don’t need another job mum.â€) and the other team’s Spy was already handing his lady a bouquet of flowers. He didn’t want to know what his Spy was already up to. Downstairs he trudged, avoiding the main rooms where he might see the happy couple hugging and just generally being awfully lovey. He didn’t expect to have the slouch hat whisked off his head and a feminine giggle alert him to the two people standing behind him. Spy had his arm around the woman’s waist and she had placed the akubra on Spy’s head just as Sniper turned around. “What’re you playing at you two?†He tried to ask as jovially as he could and keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Why, my Cherie had a lovely idea just now and we wished to see how you’d take it.†An idea? He raised a furry eyebrow. “Come on Snipes, it won’t kill you.†She had the same accent as Scout, the thick Bostonian tongue had the weird effect of grating on Sniper’s nerves but sounding quite pleasing at the same time. Sniper rolled his eyes and snatched his head back off of Spy’s head. “Tell me your idea first.†“Oh but Monsieur that would ruin the surprise!†As much as he trusted Spy, the look on his face wasn’t something that Sniper would exactly call friendly. Although, Spy’s face had a habit of twisting itself into odd expressions at the drop of a hat so Sniper couldn’t call that an accurate measure of what he was feeling. After a second of internal debate, Sniper relented. “Fine, I’ll go along with your crazy idea. No offence ma’am.†She shook her head, laughing again. “You’ll enjoy it babe, I promise.†Sniper was dragged down the corridors to the team’s collective dorm area. He was shuffled inside Spy’s room with Scout’s mother following close behind them. She had a wide, attractive grin across her slightly chubby face. Sniper wasn’t sure what to make of it exactly, just like the way he wasn’t sure what to make of Spy beginning to undo his shirt buttons. “Hey, mate, what’s going on?†“Why Sniper, haven’t you figured out the Madame’s idea yet?†Behind him the door locked. The blinds were already shut and Spy had pulled his mask off. He never did that on the base. Scout’s mother seemed right at home with it though, running her hands through his hair while they kissed. At first Sniper was a little lost for words, but then the lady reached behind her and tugged him closer until he was positioned right behind her and Spy was gripping his chin with a suddenly ungloved hand. Clothes were of little use and the room had steadily been getting warmer since the three piled into the room. For most of the time Sniper had stayed behind Scout’s mother, once or twice being shuffled around in front of her while Spy did something behind her that had her gasping and leaning against the Australian for support. Now they were on the bed and Sniper’s head was spinning with the heady scent of sex in the air. Some time during the tryst he found himself inside the woman, a privilege he hadn’t been expecting, and Spy in front with his mouth wrapped around the nipple of a rather luxurious breast. She was glorious. Tighter than he expected for a woman that had birthed eight children, soft and wet too. Even with a condom on he could feel it. He ran his hands around her wide hips, over the white stretch mark scars of her inner thighs and over Spy’s head where he was nestled there. In all, Sniper rather liked this idea. Together, they lay in the bed that was too small for even two people with smoke curling around the ceiling and staining the white a sickly yellow. Scout’s mother was wrapped around Spy’s side and Sniper was between his legs, shifting sometimes to try and find a more comfortable spot. More often than not, that would prompt an angry jabbing from Spy and a chuckle from his -their- lady friend. Eventually they settled into a tired sleep with the odd restless fit when someone’s body decided it was too hot. At one point, the other team’s Scout went in search of his mother (after a shouting match with Soldier, who finally decided it was alright but ’only until you find her and DON’T DAWDLE MAGGOT’) and when he tried to kick open the door to the Spy’s room -knowing full well she’d be there- he was confronted with an angry Australian who’d just been woken up and hadn’t put any underwear left. The Scout decided he could go mess around with his counterpart while he waited for them to finish playing around, because that would preserve his sanity for a little longer. Suddenly, fireworks went off just outside the hidden window and Spy crammed his head back into the mask just as half the team barrelled their way into the room- effectively breaking the door off its hinges- and confetti streamers exploded in their hands. Their Scout stood on the bed above the threesome and sprayed silly string in Sniper’s face. And that was how half the team ended up going through respawn that night.
First third of the fic: I like where this is going. Second third of the fic: Awww yeah, just what I didn't know I wanted! Last third of the fic: What the fuck did I just read?
Yeah, I don't understand what happened at all in that last part.
>>21 >>22 Blame my girlfriend for the last bit on the end. She demanded the last fourty words be exactly that scene That and I'm tired and I think this fic has made me lose it. Really, none of this is serious. It's just a bunch of words I'm putting on a page in the hopes of hitting 50K by the end of the month.
>>23 don't worry 'brid i'd do the same lol not really faggot but these are awesome nonetheless YOU MUST WRITE THE 50K! FOR ME FOR YOU FOR TF2CHAAAAAAAN!!!
Nope I give up, too lazy.
>>25 ... Please tell me that you're joking.
>>26 Nope. Well, actually I can't really do it. My internet is about to get cut off so there's no real way I can update the word count etc. I could carry on but now I lack the motivation to do it.
>>27 I can understand that. I would have really liked it if you had stuck with it a little longer, but it isn't for everyone.
>>28 Yeah, it is really stressful. I think I'll stick to plugging away at the other fics. Although this has made me realise I can get things done quickly. I'll probably finish the last one I was working on while I have nothing else to do.