🌈🍖darkfic and nsfw content will be featured, therefore minors are not allowed to interact and will be blocked if seen. 🌈🍖
Archie / they/them / 23 years old
This is a writing blog centered around the Team Fortress 2 characters! I will take x Reader requests as well as character x character content (up to three characters for this type). I really love the BLU team please ask about them and request them! I do both headcanon lists and short fics.
Content I will do
sexual and wholesome fics alike, yandere, noncon, violence (torture, whump, murder, general gravel wars horrors), abusive dynamics, honestly most things, feel free to ask to be certain and keep in mind I have the right to deny anything I wish to. Please mind the tags and don't eat the dove if you don't want it.
About the Author
This blog is run by a system and multiple alters will write here. Archie is a collective nickname you can use for everyone for the simplicity! We are very passionate about writing and about exploring the darkest aspects of humanity through fiction. TF2 is a fairly new fandom to us, but there is so much untapped potential for dark content with these characters that I hope to dig into like an untouched goldmine. We've got some illnesses that affect energy levels, so there may be occasional necessary hiatuses. Otherwise we will be here having fun and doing what we love!
Hi anon! Yes, it feels good to be able to post again for now! Our energy levels are unusually high as of now so we're tackling as many requests as we can get to while it lasts. It's really nice to know you missed our posts, thank you. <3
Nsfw, reader struggling with recently relapsing sh and has intrusive thoughts to continue and so engineer distracts them =^.^=
(I'm unsure if this is acceptable or not, I didn't see anything being against this sort of stuff but I understand if you refuse this!)
Don't worry, themes of self harm are acceptable to request. I hope this is enjoyable for you, anon!
transmasc! relapsing! Reader x Engineer
[CW: implied self harm, intrusive thoughts, persuading reader into sex acts]
Engie's genitals are ambiguous. For potential triggering's sake, language used for reader includes: tcock, hard, dick, cock, wet, hole, suck off, eat out.
It was going to be a nice night. You had to tell yourself that in the mirror while ignoring your arms pointedly. You dressed up, even though it was just to drive to your partner's house. Dell always gets so complimentary when you dress up nice, and you are on the brink of begging for compliments on this night in particular. The long sleeves of your button-up and jacket are just a bonus.
His driveway is long and gated, already in the middle of nowhere yet always seeming to get further from civilization. But you can respect a love for privacy, especially in his line of work. Sighing and tapping your finger pads on the steering wheel, you finally pull right up to the large cabin, jutting out of the side of a hill. Okay, you plead with yourself. Just have a nice night.
He's all smiles at the door, and he even lifts up his goggles and places them on his forehead in order to kiss you on the hand. He's yet to stop being overly polite to you, even though it's been a year. "Can that be Reader? At my door? Why, what a surprise!"
"Dell, you knew I was coming," you say, mustering a laugh for him. You tug at the sleeve of your dress shirt for a moment, making absolute certain you nor he have to see your bandaged arms right now. That would only make things worse.
"Did I?" He tilts his head at you like a dog, which he always seems to think makes his feigned ignorance more believable. You don't laugh again though, sighing despite keeping a smile on. His face remains pleasant and unchanged even when you don't laugh, reaching out an arm to lock with yours, pulling you into the house. "I got a movie set up, snacks, and maybe even a spot in my bed if y' feel like it." You blush at what, for him, is brazen flirtation, and he strokes the back of his thick fingers on your reddened cheek, leading you even further inside once your shoes are off.
The movie is nowhere near distracting enough, but being pressed against his chest is at least nice. He likes older films, 30s through the 40s. It's a black and white one he's already shown you twice. That may be a good thing though, with how much you're struggling to focus.
A fresh wound would feel good right now, your brain interjects against your will. You close your eyes and try to take a breath, tugging on your sleeves again impulsively.
His hand snaps out and grabs your wrist, feigning that he's simply holding your hands. But he definitely knows something is wrong. "What'cha up to down there, sweetheart?"
You swallow the sudden huge lump in your throat and try to speak. "Nothing, just adjusting myself."
"Right, right. You wearin' an extra layer tonight? It's so warm out, too." He prods at you insistently, and you stop him before he can pull at your sleeve. Cursing yourself for doing the most suspicious thing possible, you stand up from the couch and start to walk away.
"Sorry, have to pee!" You try not to rush until you're out of his shielded gaze. The rush to lock yourself in the bathroom stops you from noticing him already following you. You don't even get time to close the door, as gunslinger shoots out and is thrown in the way with a metallic thud. "Engie," you beg, annoyed and desperate.
He hums at you, and shoves his way inside. "I'd appreciate an explanation before my partner rushes off from a nice movie date, Reader." Infuriatingly he's left it up to you to be honest, even though you can tell he already knows.
Heatedly sighing, you roll up your sleeve and show him the bandages underneath. "I cleaned it, it's fine. We don't have to say anything about-"
"So that's what's been distractin' you all night, hm?" He chuckles at you. "More distractin' than me?"
"Well- well yeah. I mean, kind of goes without saying." You shift on your feet nervously, averting your eyes.
"I assure you I can be distracting too, sweetheart," he mutters, moving towards you. He brushes his real hand over your hair then cups it on the back of your head warmly. His smile is soft yet guiding temptation into you, offering up his affection, his rough hand wringing at your own.
[cont.]
"Oh... I don't know." You turn away your gaze, releasing a shuddering, tired sigh. Blushing, though, despite your hesitations.
He hums, leaning forward and kissing you. "Did y' lose so much blood y' can't get hard all'a sudden," he teases, smiling. You go scarlet in the face and it makes him laugh. "Oh, so that's where all the blood's at then." You scoff at him playfully, embarrassed that he actually is as distracting as he claimed.
His kisses start to move downward, and your brain is getting too fuzzy to even have intrusive thoughts at this rate. Dell peppers kisses over your throat that slowly linger longer, get sloppier. He grazes his teeth over your skin and it gets a light moan from you. Your hands grip onto his shoulders, face staying rosy. You straining your grip causes one of your injuries to sting, and you hiss and begin to move to grab at your arm. He swats your hand back to your side, and grabs you and lifts you onto the bathroom counter so quickly you gasp. He is certainly determined to occupy your mind.
"Would y' like it very much if I put my kisser 'round your cock, sweetheart? Seems like a right practical use for a mouth, don't it," he says, kissing your chest once. You chuckle at his embarrassing choice of words, but give him a tense nod. He smirks lightly and begins to kiss a trail down your chest and stomach, his hands gripping your hips firmly to hold you in place. The metal grip of gunslinger digs bruises into your skin once he gets your bottom half bare.
He lifts you and slips your pants and boxers off of you, then removes his goggles to reveal the odd shaped suntan underneath. His cheeks are freckled from the summer sun, and hot, flustering affection swims in your brain with the arousal. You shudder softly as he kisses your inner thighs, moving closer to you so slowly it makes you ache. You take the sides of his head in your hands and pull him closer. He raises an eyebrow at you scoldingly, but caves after a small, desperate, 'please' from you.
His hands grab your own, and he pins them to the counter as he leans to you and wraps his mouth around you. The soft warmth makes you let out a high moan, pressing up into him. His tongue slips up and down along the top of you teasingly, before running on the underside and down to flick across your hole. Jolting, you place a hand on his head and groan.
He sucks on you roughly, softly, then roughly again, while rubbing his tongue on the tip. Your tcock twitches harshly against his tongue, and you're unable to keep your hips still, pressing his face into you and rocking against it. He grips your hips harshly, groaning at your desperation as you ride his tongue.
He pulls back for a breath, wide smile with his teeth showing like a hungry animal. "Y' like that, don't'cha, Reader. Like my tongue on ya, boy?"
"Y-yeah. I do," you pant out roughly. "Please, keep going."
He does, locking his lips back around you through his grin. Guess he's distracted, huh, he jokes to himself proudly. Your dick and wet hole are made even wetter by how messily he eats you out. Reaching downward, he touches himself through his clothes to the taste of you, hard and having left wet stains in them already.
You can't stop small moans falling from your mouth at a rapid pace. Your injured arms are the farthest from your mind they've been all night, your thoughts consumed by how good his mouth feels and how sweetly he sucks you off. "Oh god," you whisper, feeling yourself get close. He hears you and begins to rub his tongue up and down you, over your hole and cock at once, lapping at your wetness and adding to it as he drools from the taste. He's grunting himself now, also reaching the edge.
You place your hands on the back of his neck and shove him against you, gasping and groaning as you grind on his tongue and cum on his face. He keeps his face against you as he huffs deep breaths of your smell, bringing himself to a quiet orgasm, small groans against your tcock as he ruins his pants just from the smell and taste of you. It makes you go red in the face to watch, stroking his thick arms to soothe him through it.
With a satisfied sigh he rests his head against your inner thigh, a grin crossing his face. "Welp, that was plenty distractin', huh, sweetheart. Y' feel nice, boy?"
You blush, tired and too pleased to think about anything but him. You sink down against him, cupping his chin - covered in your wetness still - in your hand and smiling back at him. "Y-yeah... Let's go finish that movie."
Yandere Medic x fem reader (who is pregnant with his child) hcs pretty please???
What a fun request! What I made is a bit short, but I still found it entertaining. Enjoy!
fem! pregnant! Reader x yandere! Medic Headcanons
[CW: pregnancy fetish, medical fetish, obsessive behaviour, medical themes, surgery, brief implied dubcon impregnation, manipulation, nsfw themes]
If you were on any birth control, Medic would either secretly prescribe you sugar pills instead or remove it from your body, disguising it as a different surgery. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to get it. He keeps you so close to him, as the object of his affections, so there is no one to deter you from listening to his every word. 'What better way to show love than to experiment,' he always thinks.
Soon enough, whether by implanted organ or your own anatomy, you're pregnant! Medic is overjoyed to an odd degree. He's had a deep fascination with pregnancy for most of his medical career, doing things from implanting animal wombs into humans to trying to make himself capable of carrying. He doesn't need to now, though, his darling beat him to it!
He's never one to be careful with the people around him, but he starts downright fretting over you, making up medical reasons you should stay inside in bed. So matter-of-fact in his delivery that you do as he says every time. In reality, he's fascinated by monitoring your condition down to the change in your body's smell as you grow life. He starts measuring your waist and stomach every day, taking down useless notes of the nearly nonexistent changes.
Medic becomes overtly grabby and gropey as you start to show. He gives you massages and pampers you to no end, obsessively talking about the baby inside you, detailing to you the exact stages of growth of a foetus like he's rattling it off from memory. It feels almost invasive, how deeply he looks in your eyes, grinning while describing in graphic detail the inner-workings of your own body.
And that was before he actually became invasive. He tells you he wants to do multiple ultrasounds a month, and you tell him that doesn't sound right, but he dismisses your concerns. "I'm just so... worried over you, Reader! Ich brauche dich sehr Gesund," he claims, even as his hand swoops around your widening body to rub your baby bump.
Medic was always obsessive over you, but you're starting to feel like that obsession has become more about your body. As an object of fetish, as a perverse desire to create life that doesn't spawn from some secret paternal instincts like you had hoped. Acting as if he were some sort of Dr. Frankenstein despite barely any experimentation being involved. He's begun demanding you stay naked around the house, followed by thin, poorly covered medical explanations that makes no sense even to your untrained ears. But you comply, still trying to convince yourself he just... really wants to be a dad.
He uses a camera to film one of your examinations as you begin to near your due date. He's practically salivating the entire exam, fingers lingering on your body. "You have gotten so much bigger than I was expecting!" he laughs, tracing a finger over your new stretch marks. "Your body... it will nie be the same, Reader." He looks up at you, on the exam table, over his glasses. You can just barely detect that he's panting. "Changed, forever. By making life! Is it nicht incredible?!" You try to smile for him in hopes he moves on. He watches the film during 'private time' later on.
Medic would insist on doing a c-section on you, 'just to make sure everything goes right.' He desperately craves to cut into your body and remove his new lifeform with his own hands. Your blood and fluids all over him... the idea of it makes him have to leave the room every time.
Medic becomes practically doting as the time nears, cooking you comfort foods and fetching anything you need. The hope for him to be paternal seems more likely over that final few weeks. You rub your own stomach with less worry now, watching him seem to enjoy the act of caretaking for once. He tells you how excited he is while you share an apple cake, talking between mouthfuls about how his parents once made him this, so the baby will have a taste for it too. You feel comfortable, in spite of how odd he's become during your pregnancy. He kisses all over your stomach, and the bizarre softness coming from him makes your chuckle.
Any softness has disappeared the day of your planned delivery. He is cold and medical the entire time you're in his clinic. Well, aside from the gleam in his eyes and the excited quivering of his hands. He doesn't give you any drugs, insisting it's bad for the baby. You can tell your screaming makes him feel incredible. Both of you, panting, sweating, one laughing, one crying. It's excruciating, but thanks to the adrenaline, it feels like only an everlasting moment before the baby is there, on your chest.
Medic sews you shut, cleans the blood, and swaddles the new life in your arms. He removes his medical clothing in an instant, switching gears into a semi-typical loving husband. He's immediately going on and on about baby clothes and toys, about child development, and what the new life will be like. You lose yourself to his words as you drift to sleep, exhausted. And Medic, staring down at his little abomination, is just excited to do it all over again.
Hope you guys haven't disappeared, your writing style is immaculate. Can't wait to read more of your works in the future!
You caught us, anon, we vanished. You've been reading a, ahem... ghost writer this whole time! (they said to the sound of booing from the crowd)
I appreciate the compliment! Sorry for the long absences sometimes, we've explained before that we have disabilities that cause fatigue and limit our ability to sit up and focus. Writing can be difficult despite how much we adore to do it. But we have three drafts we're working on right now that are coming along nicely enough. I hope you'll stick around to see them, despite our slowness.
*writing in my journal while giggling and sighing dreamily* *you peek over my shoulder and I've written 'SniperSpy age gap' surrounded by doodled hearts and flowers*
Hi there! Do you think you could make a Sniper x Medic x f!Reader, or just one of f!Reader x Sniper? You could go crazy with it for all I care lol. Thanks!
Hello, dear anon! Please enjoy this combination of headcanons and a brief nsfw fic.
yandere!Medic x yandere!Sniper x f!Reader - Of Dogs & Lambs
[CW: weapons, threats, dubious consent, noncon, reader having an anxiety attack, reader dissociating, stalking, lovebombing, mentions of gore/surgery/blood, manipulation, captivity & kidnapping]
Sniper and Medic are both pretty cruel, all things considered, but in remarkably different ways. And even as partners, they fight over it often. Yet when meeting you, they thought the exact same thing. 'That's going to be ours.'
Sniper takes to his usual habits, stalking from a safe distance. Observing your routine and absorbing any detail he can from five miles away. Diligently reporting back to Medic every night for them to discuss you in private. Sniper describes in detail the beauty of your naked skin seen through your windows, and Medic fantasizes about skinning you as a trophy.
As for Medic, he will not shut up about what lovely organs a nice girl like you must have. How it's been so long since he had a woman to toy with (no offense, Mick) and how you must hurt in such beautiful ways. Sniper finds himself imagining alongside him, only offering his wheezing chuckling and bright red face. They wind up having sex right after discussing you often, but it's not enough, nor does it satiate their growing mutual desire for you.
Sniper couldn't be the one to make the first move - he's far too avoidant when it comes to the delicate nature of socializing - but Medic would be more than happy to. Though it may be hard to even tell he means it romantically. He's the type to say "I want to be inside of you so bad," and mean that surgically, so most people close to him are desensitized to flirtatious sounding quips. You would only notice the severity of his seriousness when his reserved boyfriend steps up with a quick, clarifying, "And me. I wanna be inside you, too."
They're somewhat scary together, leering at you like wild dogs. However, a flash of one or multiple weapons would be enough to stop you from saying no. After all, they clarify, they want you romantically too! And doesn't that make it better? Medic's hands would be on you from the moment a hesitant 'yes' left you, but not aggressively. Not yet.
Wooing you is crucial to your cooperation, Medic has to remind Sniper that night back on base. It's important not to scare women off, don't you know. Medic views women as more delicate socially, but certainly not physically. He knows you can survive whatever he wants to give to you. Sniper is less willing to wait. He wants you, and fast. He's remarkably needy when it comes to physical desire, and you are no exception. It overwhelms his usual - albeit twisted - ideals of rights and wrong, making him more than willing to follow Medic's every plan for you.
It's an unexpected good time, being with them. There's a front being put on, you know that, and you're not stupid. But it is actually pretty nice to watch them fawn all over you in their own ways. Medic is more classically romantic. He buys you lavish gifts and is physical with his affection, a doting boyfriend with only slightly too wide of a smile and lingering hands. Sniper tries to do his own version of the same, taking you to secluded dates with just you two. A nature walk, fishing, fast food, and a night in his van together. Medic takes to referring to you as his 'little lamb,' a nickname so saccharine it melts you. Sniper often rolls his eyes at it, but he has to agree, you're akin to a small, helpless beast, just like the animals he helped raise as a child.
They're so different you wonder how they found each other sometimes. But when the three of you are together, you definitely notice a bit of banter and lingering gazes between them that reassure you they enjoy being all together like this. It's comfortable, and it's starting to make you forget the knives and guns always on their hips.
cont. (small fic begins)
After five months of dating, they take you to 'their house' for the first time. You're a bit suspicious because it honestly looks like a showroom rather than a house. Completely curated and nearly not even lived in. Medic is quick to tell you that it's mostly his home, which softens your anxiety as he does seem a lot neater than Sniper.
They take you on a tour, and it is a lovely home. There's plenty of space, even extra bedrooms, and a fully stocked kitchen. Large grey pinpads are on the outside of most of the doors, a thought that only catches your passing attention with how much they're crowding you and moving you around. They each take one of your hands and pull you towards the master bedroom. You chuckle at the obvious flirtation and let them herd you inside. The bed is large, and the room is decorated in shades of white. You're gazing around and don't have time to notice before Sniper has raised a strikingly large knife to your throat. He clears his throat, mouth hanging open for a moment, but can't seem to say whatever he was meaning to. "Reader, if you would be so kind..." Medic fills in with a firm hand on your shoulder, his tone turning your blood to ice. "Get in the bed."
They guide you to it as Medic locks the door with a button from his pocket. Medic's smile reminds you of a hungry canine as he moves back towards you. You sit down, queasy with anxiety, and they surround you, Sniper behind you with that knife, and Medic in front. Medic's hands are on you instantly, his reddened cheeks creased with a huge smile. He lightly scratches his nails down your arms, staring directly into your eyes as you shudder. "Finally, aheh. I get to touch you! Mick, if you will," he says. That knife moves down your body, slow, teasing in another circumstance, and then swiftly cuts your shirt from your body. A thin scratch pricks up blood, and Medic immediately leans down and laps it from your skin.
"What was it about not scarin' off girls?" Sniper grumbles at him.
They have you between them securely as Medic's fingers wander to his pocket. He pulls out red surgical gloves, and your breath hitches in your throat. "What- what are you doing with those?"
He looks at his gloved hands as if confused. "Er. I am going to touch you, Reader. Your genitalia to be precise. It may be mine now, Haustier, but it's still such a filthy place."
You can't help snorting a laugh at the ridiculousness of his words, even as you start to cry. "Why not just ask? That can't be it. What are you going to do?"
Sniper's laugh rattles in your ears, a smile on him that looks more like baring his teeth as the sharpened blade digs into your neck. "Just this, for now. But... The doc's been having a lotta thoughts about your body. 'Specially the inside of it." He taps the knife's sharp tip against your stomach for emphasis. "He seems to think your organs must be-"
"Something special!" Medic finishes. "But we can save it for the next time. I forgot to mention that this entire house will be yours now, Reader! You can be nothing but ours. Forever, maybe! It will have to stay locked up for, eh, the first few months." His gloves glide down your bare torso, cold and invasive. He leans right to your ear, his breath coming out in a shudder of excitement. "But I'm sure you will adjust. Humans are so adaptable."
"Can we get on with it?" Sniper says testily. You can feel how aroused he is, his body pressed against your back needily. Medic tuts at him, but he does stop wasting time.
It's barely sex, at first. More like Medic aggressively shoving his fingers into you as deeply as he can fit himself, watching you squirm with pain with that knife to your throat. He praises under his breath, swiping his fingers around every corner of your insides. Sniper's mind is definitely also on the physical though, as Medic has only had time to bring you half way towards an only half desired orgasm before an antsy Sniper throws him off of you and pins you to the bed with his blade.
"Remember how we said we both want to be inside you?" he taunts, letting you know exactly what's coming. He stares at you hungrily before licking a tear from your cheek and shuddering. His dick fits in you snugly, only thanks to the fingering, but it's violating no matter how little pain there is. You try to lose yourself in it even though you can't stop crying. You're just having sex with your boyfriends. It's all okay. It even could feel good if you let it. Until Medic climbs towards you, too.
Sniper flips on his back with you laying on his stomach, still speared on him, avoiding his eyes as they try to bore a hole through you. You feel Medic's cock press against your already full hole and gasp, a strangled groan leaving you. "Please, I don't- I can't take you too, please-"
But it goes ignored as Medic slowly presses his larger cock into you. The stretch sends white through your vision, and you can't help starting to cry anew. But Medic soothes you, oddly. Petting your back and cooing in your ear about how much of a baby you're being. "I stretched you enough, Reader, yet you cry on our cocks like a little lamb! Doesn't it feel nice?" His hand reaches around and strokes you, adding to the building pressure in your gut. "Don't you still love us?"
It sounds mocking, but you whimper, knowing there's some truth to it. You're deluding yourself into it. It takes the hurt away from their betrayal.
Before you can think fully, Sniper begins to move, and fast. Both you and Medic groan at the sudden friction, Sniper panting roughly in your ear, hands gripping into your hips hard enough to bruise. Medic bites into your shoulder and starts to thrust too. It all dissolves into a blur of pleasure and fear as you let yourself get lost in sensation, so you don't have to think about the fact that you could have seen this coming from miles away. That it all feels like nothing but your fault for even thinking they could be normal partners.
They pepper your body with cum, decorating you with the fruits of your assault. And you expect, maybe, to be left to rot in that locked bedroom, but instead they carry you to a large shower in the master bathroom and bathe you, then each other. Sniper won't stop whispering apologies and lightly kissing your flesh as he soaps you, some honor code he seems to have broken in his haste to have you, and in his getting swept up in Medic's plans. Medic simply hums cheerfully as he bathes, not even acknowledging the circumstances. The warm water and soap hide your tears from them.
You have a new life now. In a big bedroom, then slowly a big house, all to yourself. They visit daily, if not hourly, when they're off work. You slowly fall into the groove of it, being their little toy. It's not so bad, you repeat to yourself every day. And it's definitely nicer than having to work a job or deal with regular people. At least, that's what you tell your unbelieving reflection each morning. But until they decide they're done with you, you will live here. A doll to be experimented on, a facade of a girlfriend, a house pet to what used to be just lovers, not captors. It was never your choice, from the moment they wanted you as theirs.
i really don't mean to pressure you guys or make you anxious or anything, but how are the requests going? i don't mean to be rude, i just want to ask. please don't rush to post or get anxious about this message, i would just like to know if there's a timeline to things, if there are any reqs being worked on... it's more important to me if you are healthy than if you are writing. if you aren't able to do that, it's okay. hope you're doing well and aren't sick!!
Hi anon, thank you for your ask. Requests are worked on whenever we have energy to do so. It's slow sometimes, and I'm sorry for that. We spend most days in bed or not able to sit up, so I'm sure it's understandable that things happen slowly. However, every request we have currently will be completed.
Unfortunately I can't give a timeline to things, considering, but I can tell you that we are currently working on a request about yandere Demo and a request about general yandere Sniper headcanons. The Sniper headcanons are nearly done and will definitely be posted before the month's over! (most likely the Demo request as well)
GOD your headcanons are so good... could i maybe get a short fic with a yandere sniper x transmasc reader.... doing gods work ouult here
I hope you don't mind it, anon, I heavily headcanon Sniper as transmasc as well, so this will be t4t.
yan! transmasc! Sniper x transmasc! Reader - NSFW
CW/TW: stalking, violence, noncon voyeurism, implied necrophilism (not descriptive, imagined by a character and not actually happening), marijuana & cigarette mentions, self loathing, sadism
Worn leather boots trudge up sandy dirt as Sniper steps out of his camper, shifting the strap of his gun as he looks up at the buildings above him. In the dark, the apartment blocks and houses loom overhead with darkened windows. He’s been here often enough that he knows exactly the fire escape to climb, and the exact ladder from there that takes him to the roof. Settling into the highest point, he sets up his gun in a makeshift nest. The only reason he brought it, really, is the scope. His scope is a fucking nice one, he doesn’t even hazard a guess at how much it cost the people he works for. It’s perfect for seeing long distances, for seeing into the crevices of every place he’s not meant to look.
Through the small lens, he focuses in on a seemingly random apartment, seeking the content within. The lights are still on, and being so high up, you never close your blinds. It gives him a view of your bedroom window, like a private theatre screen. He checks his watch, which reads 22:00, around the time you get into the shower every night. Annoyingly he has some time to kill before you’ll be there to watch. Grumbling to himself, he pulls out a cigarette to smoke. Lit, he pulls a puff of smoke in, eyes still focused through the scope.
Sniper has been watching you for a while now, though what started it he himself can hardly remember. A bit too much kindness shown to a stranger in a public place, being followed home without noticing, and now you have a gunman’s sights trained on you for life. He closes his eyes as he takes a particularly deep breath of nicotine, something itching in his mind. It bothers him often, the idea of approaching you again. You wouldn’t remember him, surely. It would just be an organic meeting, an organic going out for drinks.
With a grimace, he puts out the cigarette on his own hand, scoffing at himself. As if he feels at place enough in a bar to take you out, or could have a normal conversation for once in his life. It’s not worth the risk of ruining the chance. He prefers the fantasy of you. The idea of having you to himself, without any of the practice required to maintain a relationship with a human being.
Before he can dwell on his moping, there’s movement in your room. You step out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. His cheeks grow ruddy and his hands grip tighter to his gun as he watches you move. He remembers the first time he saw you like this, the brief confusion at the towel being over your middle and bottom at once. But it came off and showed him the stars. Thinking about it stirs him up, and as the towel falls from you in his scope, he tugs his own pants off a bit, unbuttoning them to reach his own tcock.
Touching himself slowly, firmly, he watches you move around the room naked. Dumb thing to do with your blinds open, he thinks. Like you want someone to bloody stare at you. He bites his lip, hard, breathing out heavily. The thought that you know somehow, that you would want him to be seeing you like this, it makes his whole body hot. You’ve laid out on your bed, naked. Innocently relaxing post-shower. All while giving him the perfect view of your entire form.
Your body is softer than his. You’ve definitely not been taking testosterone as long as he has. Eyes half closing he pictures how warm and gentle your flesh would be, yielding to his hands as they would squeeze and prod at you. In his mind he pictures what your moans might sound like. He imagines how easily you might get aroused with him touching you, how easily his fingers would fit into you. He curls two into himself, imagining it’s your body instead. It makes him shudder and groan, adjusting the scope to zoom in on you even further. God, it’s like he’s right there in bed with you.
He bites a tooth into his fresh cigarette burn, crying out and groaning quietly. Would you do things like that for him? Would you hurt him? Let him hurt you? In the hot night air he’s drenched in sweat, jerking himself off to the sight of you, the idea of you. He imagines putting on a harness and using a toy on you. He’s never done that before, but with you he wants it. He wants it, to feel you pinned under him like a caught animal. Crying under him as he bites and claws you.
You’ve rolled onto your stomach on your bed, and he wants to be there, on top of you, feeling you, hurting you. He strokes his tcock hurriedly, feeling his knife split your skin, feeling his hands hurt you even beyond the ways he’s hurt men before. Hitting you, carving into you, smashing your head onto the ground until you’re silent. Warm blood coming from your skin. And his hands the cause of it all, pleasure, pain. He feels you cum. He feels you die. And then he cums to the thought.
The clarity of what he just got off to hits him before he’s even done orgasming, and he reels his face away from his scope, panting hotly. The redness in his face becomes one of shame rather than arousal, and he clutches a hand into his shirt as he tries to calm himself down. What kind of sick freak is he, what was that? He knows what it was. He thinks these things often, no matter how much he pushes them back. Even on the battlefield he feels that excitement, the arousal of someone dying by his hand. Pleasure found in splattering brains. But, you? Did he just think that of you?
There’s a reason you’re better off as only an idea to him.
He wipes his hand on his own clothes and packs himself back up in his van as quickly as possible. Drives far away, even past his team’s base, out into the desert. Quiet. It’s quiet out there. He parks, and rests his head on the steering wheel. Nothing but the sounds of night out there now. And him panting.
Sleep doesn’t come for him that night, and instead he spends it trying to stop thinking about you and how you’re sleeping. He smokes, then smokes weed instead, and watches the sun rising while telling himself he can’t even go back and watch you again, that he can’t let himself indulge in the sadism he can never wash his brain from.
But he will go back. And he will watch you again. And of course, he’ll cum to those exact thoughts, again and again.
what do u think of spypyro?? I didn't really have an opinion on it until I saw tomatogogipie's art of them
Oh, we love spypyro, a lot actually. Tomatogogipie's art is incredible as well, they really capture the sheer violence that some romances would have to have in the Gravel Wars. I think there's quite a lack of gore and aggression shown in ship art considering who these characters are. Cross team spypyro is great for that, they'd be a romance like a raw open wound. I also have a lot of headcanons about same team Spy and Pyro at least somewhat enjoying each other's company. You know, reading shitty fashion magazines that Spy can bitch about then let Pyro set on fire for them to kiss by the light of.
