#Quick Hit (Scout) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miintsprigz · 5 months

Note

Hello! I loved your mercs x artist reader! I ran into it when I started a Spy art piece a few days prior. (Spooky!) I wanted to request something! Headcanons about a (g/n) reader fear-punching the mercs out of instinct. Like, what if scout just jumped out at the reader and the reader fucking DECKS him on accident. Preferably all mercs, but if that's too much, then just Scout, Spy, and Medic. Obv feel free to ignore, but thank you for your other written pieces!

Oooh, y’all have such good requests!!!

I’ll be honest, I’m pretty sleepy right now, but Scout, Spy, and Medic are some of my favorite mercs to write for, so I can definitely write those three.

May make a part two with the others when I have a bit more energy!

I hope you enjoy, dear Anon ^^

Characters used: Scout, Spy, Medic (TF2)

Warnings: Bit of blood, stuff relating to anxiety.

Scout:

Finally, the weekend was here. It had not been a good week for you in the slightest, and you were glad that it was done. You could unwind and take it easy now.

Kicking your shoes off as you entered, you closed the door, only to be greeted with a sudden blast of noise.

“Boo!”

Without even thinking, your hand curled into a fist, shot out and struck the figure square in the jaw. About a second later, you recognized the voice as belonging to the Scout.

“Ow!!! What the—?!” He groaned in pain, rubbing the side of his face.

“O-oh my gosh, Scout…I, I’m so sorry…”

He curled his lips inward for a second, biting them. Jeremy wasn’t mad at you—truly, he wasn’t, although it hurt crazy bad.

His first reflex when punched was to punch back…but he wasn’t going to punch you. Never you. So he had to freeze for a second, taking a deep breath, rolling his head to the side.

You kept apologizing, hands starting to shake a bit. Quickly, gently, he reached up and took ahold of one of them, gently squeezing his fingers around the back of it, tapping them almost rhythmically against your skin.

A small smile made its way to his face, shaking his head slightly.

“…ya know, if I was just getting back here, and someone jumped out at me…I think I’d slug ‘em too. You’re okay, (Y/N)… I’m sorry I scared ya.”

You wanted to cry for a second, and he could tell. Pulling you in quick, he brought his other arm up to hug you quickly.

“You okay?”

“I-I’ll be fine, just gotta breathe…did I hurt you too bad—”

“Been hit way worse than that, doll. Ya do got a mean right hook on ya though.”

You laughed, and that helped to catch your breath.

“Let me get you some ice…”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine, I’m tough…” Reaching up to gingerly touch the spot he’d been struck resulted in a wince though.

You jerked your head towards the kitchen. “C’mon.”

“Arright, if it makes ya feel better…”

“Oh shush.”

A quiet laugh cued you in that he’d be just fine after some ice.

He was noticeably careful with you as the day went on. You could tell he felt bad, but you’d said it was okay…and if he could take anyone at their word, it was you.

____

Medic:

Good word, you hadn’t been sent through respawn, but with how much your head hurt, you were starting to think that might have been a better deal than what you got.

Immediately, you sought out the Medic. If anyone could help you recover, it was him, of course.

You figured you’d just wait outside his office until he came back…not realizing he was already there. Hearing you outside, the doctor slowly, silently opened the door, and went to tap you on the shoulder.

Obviously, you hadn’t expected to see anyone, let alone feel a hand on you, and the pain had you on autopilot, so you spun around and—

“Ach!”

“Medic??? Crap—you scared me, I didn’t mean—I’m sorry, I—I just need—it hurts so bad—!”

Great. So now you were in pain after a long day, and you’d (accidentally) clobbered the only guy who could fix it! This was one of those “last straw” moments though, and Medic could tell.

“Oh (Y/N), no need to explain! Take a breath for a moment, bitte (please)! I promise I am fine…oh no…”

You tried to breathe, but it caught in your throat. His eyes were locked onto you, gently grasping your shoulders. Tears had threatened to spill down your face, and this got them falling. You sniffled, trying to keep composed.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“There there, come, walk with me…”

The two hands on your shoulders became one hand gently grasping yours, leading you to a cot in his office to take a seat.

“Where is the pain? Point. I will fix it.”

Somehow, the compassion and somewhat surprising gentleness only made you cry more, but you pointed to your head.

“Ooh, ja, after what I saw you put through today, I’m not surprised—my head would hurt, too.”

Before you knew it, a light flickered on above you, and as the machinery whirred, your pain waned and disappeared entirely.

“There! Good as new.”

Your voice broke when you tried to speak. “Doc…”

“What is it? Does it still hurt? That shouldn’t be…”

He leaned down a bit so that he was on eye level with you. You shook your head.

“I punched you…I didn’t mean to punch you, I didn’t even want to, I…I’m so sorry…”

You knew you’d calm down in a minute, but right now you couldn’t help yourself, and it seemed like he understood that. Before you knew it, he’d hugged you tightly, holding you close to his chest. Tousling your hair lightly with one hand, he shushed you softly.

“Shh shh shh…it’s alright, Liebling, I know reflexes when I see them. I shouldn’t have done that—I’ll tell you that it’s me next time, that’s all! If I can patch you up, I can do the same to myself, so…it’ll be like it didn’t even happen!”

You laughed a bit, and felt him rest his chin against the top of your head before both of you pulled apart.

Once again, his hand grasped yours, and he quickly took your other one too.

“Feeling a bit better?”

“Yeah…thanks, Medic. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, (Y/N). Of course.”

________

Spy

Being a close companion of the silent killer, it only made sense that he’d scare you by mistake at some point. Without even meaning to.

You’d even imagined the scenario in your head. And yet. When it actually happened, you still weren’t ready.

Waking up after a series of weird dreams, you went to head downstairs to grab some water and hopefully head back to bed.

Standing there, with the only real light source being the tiny bulb in the back of the fridge, you grabbed a cup and filled it up, not even bothering to sit down to drink it.

Feeling someone brush against your shoulder, you flinched hard and felt your fist go up of its own accord.

It made contact, with a yelp following it.

“Ah!”

“…Spy? Oh no…”

The Spy held one hand over his nose, groaning quietly.

“Hello, (Y/N). You’re up rather early.”

“I’m so sorry, you scared me—”

There was a brief flash of realization over his eyes, and you recognized a bit of shame.

“…you know what, fair enough. I did not think that through.”

Pulling his hand back revealed that he was bleeding quite a bit. “…well, that’s not good. Excuse me.”

Spy was so…matter of fact, about this? It almost put you at ease, but not quite enough. You followed him as he briskly walked to the bathroom, having to scramble along a bit to keep up with him.

“Did I break it?”

“No, I don’t believe so. Breaks hurt much more than this.”

It wasn’t too surprising to hear that someone who was basically a secret agent had broken his nose before.

He looked over at you with confusion flitting across his face, having finally cleaned up most of the blood. Brows furrowed together, he sounded truly puzzled.

“…(Y/N), you didn’t strike me as being afraid of blood.”

“I-I’m not!” You didn’t like how sharply your voice came out, but you couldn’t seem to change it much.

“Well, what’s the matter then? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Spy, I…I punched you. I hurt you.”

“Hmm, debatable really. Punched me, yes. Hurt me? Only for a moment. The bleeding is already stopping.”

You looked at him, bewildered, and felt your face quickly heating up. His expression softened, sighing quietly as the slightest trace of a smile came to his face.

“…Mon coeur (my heart), I’m alright. Please, don’t get yourself upset over it.”

Without thinking about it, you stumbled forward slightly and hugged him. He stepped back a bit at first, surprised, but quickly followed suit, stroking your hair.

“Takes a lot more than that to hurt me. Besides, I took you completely off-guard. I’d argue you just demonstrated sharp reflexes.”

Once Spy pulled back, you realized he was still in that suit.

“Well, at least there’s no blood on your suit.”

With a chuckle, he smirked at you. “Yes, good point.”

“…Why are you fully dressed at this hour anyway? Do you sleep in it?”

Spy rolled his eyes at you. “Absolutely not. I just got back. Late night mission, you see.”

“Ohhhh…”

Leaning against the bathroom counter, a playful tone warmed his voice. “If it will set you at ease, I can regale you with the tale…”

Yes, Spy loved to talk about himself, but this genuinely did seem like it was an attempt to help you calm down. Eagerly, you scrambled to sit on the edge of the tub, playfully resting your chin in your hands as if ready to hang onto every word.

With a snort, he shook his head. “I don’t think this would be a good place for it.”

“Oh!”

Quickly, you got to your feet again, and he bit back a grin as he slipped his arm around your shoulders, heading over to his smoking room.

#tf2 x reader #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #scout x reader #tf2 medic #medic tf2 #medic x reader #tf2 spy #spy tf2 #spy x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 spy x reader #mint writes

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3d-wifey · 7 months

Note

toxic (yandere) baseball player eren and the girl he'd kill for? 👁🫦👁

You Say I'm in Love (I Say You're A Fool)

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x tutor!reader Synopsis: There are many things Eren loves. Word Count: 1.3k Warning: smut, an argument could be made for manipulation, eren is in denial, riding, car sex, overstimulation (reader and eren receiving) A/N: I wrote this in 30 minutes and it shows.

Tag list: @scoven

There are many things Eren loves.

The way his calves burn and lungs heave as he runs from base to base. The resounding cracking noise the bat makes as it hits the baseball. Even the way the infield dirt stains his pants as he slides in to touch the base before a tag out.

But if there's one thing Eren can confidently say he's in love with, it's being between your legs.

It's a known fact that Eren isn't looking for a relationship. He's far too focused on getting scouted. His brother is in the major leagues, after all. So renowned that he has a pitch named after him. It only makes sense that he'd follow in his footsteps.

So, despite the dozens of girls who throw themselves at him and crowd the stands at every game just to get a glimpse of him, he isn't looking for anything serious.

And that fact doesn't change when he starts failing a few classes and his coach makes him take up tutoring with you, his daughter.

It doesn't change the first time he fingers you in his jeep as he drives you to your dorm. It doesn't change whenever he makes you read from a textbook as he eats you out under one of the rickety library tables.

It definitely doesn't change whenever he drags you to the dugout after practice and fucks you so hard that an imprint of the gates is left against your cheek. But you don't mind. His good girl, always so eager to please him.

But when did you become his?

Maybe it was when he warned all his teammates that you were off limits and told them in no uncertain terms that he'd break their fucking fingers they'd have to deal with him if he saw any of them sniffing around you. Or when he didn't see you in the crowd cheering him on at one of his games, and he found himself sending you a few concerned texts.

Ren💚: r u comin?

Ren💚: hello??????

Ren💚: did something happen?

Ren💚: y aren't u answering ur phone???

Ren💚: where the fuck are u?

Ren💚: r u with some1?

Ren💚: I swear to God I'll kill them.

Ren💚: You have till the second inning to be in the stands before I come to you.

Turns out you just overslept with your phone on silent.

Regardless, it's becoming a problem. He can't even get off to porn unless the girl looks like you and even that stops working after a while. Sleeping with anyone else is out of the question. So maybe he has to resort to scrolling through your Instagram when he finds himself in need of inspiration.

Eren's room is pitch black other than the bright light from his phone reflecting off his bare chest. His left-hand holds his phone as he scrolls your page from a burner account while his right hand palms his dick through his sweat pants.

His breath hitches as he stumbles upon the perfect post. It's from last summer when you and your family went to the beach. You were clad in a baby blue bathing suit with little white clouds. He's quick to push his sweatpants down his thighs and take himself in hand.

You had just gotten out of the ocean when you had someone take the photo for you. His pace speeds up as his eyes trace the salty drops of water that dripped down your skin, dipping between your cleavage and between your thighs. He imagines what it would be like to fuck you in that cute, little swimsuit, pushing the crotch of your bottoms aside to go down on you and his hips buck into his hand.

He swipes to the next picture of the set, you on your hands and knees, presumably, playing in the sand as you smile up at the camera, and Eren feels his orgasm ripping through him.

All things considered, his problem with you could be worse.

At least that's what he thinks until he realizes you're eager to please everyone, not just him. Always happy to help, always jumping at the opportunity to be praised, and under normal circumstances, maybe Eren would find it cute or funny, but now it's just fucking annoying.

The team is up for an away game against their rivals and your schedule has finally opened up enough to hang out with Eren after his game. Both of you had been pretty busy, you with midterms and him with practice. He'd never admit this to anyone but you even with a gun to his head, but he's been missing you more than he's missed anything in his entire life. So when you tell him you have to cancel because Jean apparently told your dad he needed some tutoring, he's rightfully pissed off.

Not at you, of course. You're practically in tears when you tell him. It's obvious you don't want to do this, which only fuels his anger.

That piece of shit. Jean is the last fucking person to need help with his homework. Hell, he graduated salutatorian in high school—second only to Armin.

This isn't about grades. He's doing this shit to get under his skin. Is he really this desperate for Eren's sloppy seconds?

He can't stop you from going, but he can send you off with a message.

He has fifteen minutes before he needs to be in the locker room, but you showed up wearing one of his old jerseys and he's already half-hard at the idea of you being in the stands cheering him on with 'Jaeger' printed on your back in big, bold, white letters. Making it known to everyone who you belong to.

And Jean overstepping his bounds pisses him the fuck off. Two birds, one stone. Besides, he doesn't need to be there when the team goes over the play, he's the one who made it.

His pants are pulled down to his thighs and you're bare from the waist down, wearing nothing but his jersey. He grips your hips tight, fucking little gasps out of you. One of your hands claps his shoulder while the other holds the car handle for dear life. Your cheeks are wet, almost as wet as you've made his lap.

He's overstimulated you both, a ring of white, frothy cum grows at the base of his shaft with each downward swing of your hips. That painful pleasure tightens his balls every time your sensitive walls spasm around his equally sensitive cock.

"E-Eren, I—fuck, fuck, fuck, ahhh—” You cut yourself off with a moan that slithers around his spine, pushing him to go faster, harder, deeper. This position is perfect, you're practically boneless over him as the head of his dick punches your g-spot.

"One more, baby. Just, hah, give me one more." And you nod your head from where you're crying into his neck. You leave his skin wet with tears and spit as you bite at him to muffle yourself. He doesn't have the heart to tell you each twinging bite is only making him harder, the grind of your canines that'll surely leave blotches and maybe even thin pricks of blood only makes him feel like he could fuck you for hours—days even! It feels too good, your pussy is too good to leave alone. A fact that Jean will never know.

"Mhm, okay, Ren." Despite your fatigue, your hips shift towards him, rutting your clit against his happy trail like you can't help yourself. "One more. One, uh, uh, uh, more for you." You agree, pulling his hair out of its messy bun in your haze. His good girl, not even thinking about the fact that he asked for one more the last three times, you're too full of his dick to think for yourself now. He would have cooed at you if it weren't for the tears blurring his own vision, toes curling in his shoes. By the time he finishes, you'll be full of his cum too. The game be damned.

After all, Eren Jaeger isn't known for his impulse control.

#3d wifey answers #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jeager #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger #aot smut #aot eren #attack on titan smut #attack on titan

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ackermanbloodline · 7 months

Text

Author's Note: Not gonna lie, I had to look this up when I first received this request ahaha. It's a cute concept. But a huge thank you to the anon who sent this in, and I apologize it took so long to write! I've been working on other request and fics. I hope you like it!

Word Count: 1.5k (trying to write shorter drabbles than whole ass fics)

Warnings: Slight spoilers for season three. Slightly NSFW.

* * *

The Best-Kept Secrets - Levi Ackerman x Female Reader

You two struggle to rein in your breath as you hide side by side behind a wall of a brick and mortar building in an alleyway.

“Captain, quick! Kiss me!”

“What? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“No, just trust me,” you urge in between clenched teeth as you take off both yours and his Scouts cloaks. You throw them into a nearby barrel. Captain Levi looks at you like you have snakes slithering out of your ears.

When he doesn’t respond, you take the initiative and switch positions with him so it’s you who is closest to the alley. After all, they’re after the Captain, not you. Your spine presses against the cold structure further as you hear a crowd of footsteps fastly approaching.

“Kenny’s men, they’re coming,” you whisper. “Trust me.”

Briskly, he turns towards you. His hand reaches out to grab your waist and pushes your lips to his. Your eyes immediately close as the warmth of his mouth overtakes everything in that moment. Your arms wrap around his neck and fall off his back to try and cover his identifying factors as much as possible.

Your tongue brushes along his bottom lip. You want this to be as passionate and uncomfortable for others as possible so people don’t look your way. His mouth immediately opens to let you in. The kiss deepens further when your tongues slip against one another’s. It feels so euphoric. And he tastes warm, if that was even a sufficient way of describing it.

His hand reaches up to stroke your cheek with his thumb. His other fingers caress the hair located at the base of your skull. In between kisses, he lets out the quietest gasps, as if he’s struggling for air and forgetting to breathe. His other hand retracts into a fist of your clothing at your waist. He pushes you up gently against the wall and pulls you in closer to him, if that was even possible. Your hips connect.

The stampede of footsteps approach and pass as quickly as they come.

“Goddammit, where did they go?”

“I don’t know, just keep looking!”

Eventually, the voices disappear into the distance. It’s evident that you two are in the clear, but neither of you stop what you’re doing. The kiss continues. When his lips make a lazy trail down to your collarbones, you run a hand through his hair.

Then it hits you that you two are in a very public place and anyone can come across you at any time. Like Section Commander Hange or another soldier. They’ll misread the situation and Captain Levi will most likely get into a massive amount of trouble, even though this was your idea and yours alone.

“Captain,” you breathe out, lightly tapping his shoulder. “Captain. I… I think they’re gone.”

He immediately pulls away and peers his head into the alleyway. He looks both ways and you utilize this moment to compose yourself. You brush off your uniform and neaten it where needed. You run your hands through your hair to straighten it. He turns to you again. He looks completely unfazed, aside from the redness and puffiness of his lips.

“Looks like it worked,” he murmurs. “Nobody knows about this. Understand?”

“Understood.”

* * *

That night, you have a hard time keeping your thoughts reined in. You struggle to go to sleep. You toss back and forth for hours as you recollect the kiss between you and your superior. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you picture his hands on your waist, how smooth his tongue was, how calm and calculated his actions were.

You’ve known the man for years, but… it feels like the energy has shifted between you two. At least on your end. The rest of the mission felt awkward. He was strangely protective over you and you didn’t leave his sight. He killed any of Kenny’s men who posed the slightest threat to you. And, worst part is, he did it without thinking. You prayed that none of your fellow soldiers picked up on these things.

As you relive the scene over and over again in your mind, you remember a detail that you missed in that moment: when he pushed you up against the wall… you felt something hard on your leg. Could it… have been him? No. No, the Captain doesn’t see you that way. You two are just soldiers fighting for humanity together. Nothing more, nothing less.

Still… you cannot deny how the thought of it all excites you.

Your bunk suddenly becomes stifling. You rip the covers off you and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You dress warmly and sneak out of your sleeping quarters. You tiptoe past everyone and make your way up on the roof of HQ.

When you open the door, you’re immediately greeted with the moon shining brilliantly above you and cold winter air. It’s all so cleansing. You take a deep breath and let out a sigh. Here, it feels like time stops, like the world doesn’t even exist. Just you.

Your heart drops when you see a familiar figure with an undercut sitting at the edge. A battle ensues in your mind. Captain Levi finding you up here could result in disciplinary action being taken upon you. On the other hand… it looks like he can’t sleep either and might need someone to talk to.

After careful consideration of the risks, you decide to approach him slowly. Your footsteps are so hushed, you’re sure he can’t hear you. When you’re only a few feet away, you speak.

“Captain?”

He doesn’t bother turning around. He doesn’t say anything at all. You bite the inside of your lip.

You speak again, “Can I sit, sir?”

“Yes.”

You kneel down and sit, swinging your legs off the edge of the HQ roof with him. You two are quiet. The silence is deafening.

“What’re you doing out here?” he asks, turning to you.

“If I tell you, will I get in trouble?”

“Hm. I suppose I can keep another thing just between us.”

You let out a chuckle.

“When I can’t sleep, this is my favorite spot to be,” you explain. “It doesn’t happen often, but… it happens sometimes. What about you? Can’t sleep, either?”

“I come here when I have lots to contemplate.”

“I imagine that’s often.”

“Uh-huh.”

You and Captain Levi both look up at the full moon hanging high in the sky. Your mind races, playing through various scenarios of things you want to say to him. It’s not long before he breaks the silence.

“I want to talk about that kiss today. To make sure we’re on the same page about things.”

“Oh, sure,” your stomach churns with nervousness. “I’m listening.”

“I…” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, a gesture you’ve never seen him do before. “I want to apologize. I got too wrapped up in it and… I sincerely hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No. No, I wasn’t uncomfortable at all! If anything, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I mean, it was my idea.”

“It was an unconventional one, to say the least, but it worked.”

“Glad it did.”

“And you didn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact, I…”

He lets out another heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He says your name.

“If I tell you something, do you promise not to repeat it?”

“Well…” you begin to mock him. “I suppose I can keep another thing just between us…”

A slight smile pulls at the edges of his lips. You smile at him.

“I…” he starts. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Because that was my first kiss.”

“Wait, what?”

“And, fuck… I… I think I feel something more for you. More than just soldiers fighting alongside one another. I have for… a while, now.”

You feel frozen in place. Your breathing even stops as you stare ahead at the expanse of the sleeping city with wide eyes. You feel his eyes bore into yours, trying to get a clue as to what you’re thinking. Most times, Captain Levi is stoic, even in the most tense and challenging situations. Seeing him like this is… jarring.

But deep down, you know the feeling is mutual.

He nearly pleads, “Say something.”

“I’m sorry, I’m… okay. I have been thinking about it quite a bit, too… and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t feel something during that kiss.”

Captain Levi pushes, “Okay…?”

“It awoken something in me, that kiss. And… I think I want to do it again.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“What’re you waiting for then, brat?”

Your head turns towards him and you lean over onto him. Your lips brush up against his and you hear Captain Levi’s breath hitch in his throat. He closes the space and kisses you with eagerness. Once again, his hands cup your face gently and his thumbs make back-and-forth motions on the apples of your cheeks.

You get high off this kiss. Everything feels euphoric, now that you know you both desire one another in a way that’s more than professional. The cold air on your skin feels tingly and all you can think about is how perfectly his mouth moves on yours.

He pulls away and looks at you with slightly widened eyes.

“What happens now?” you question.

“We’ll figure it out.”

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writeforfandoms · 8 months

Text

Fear Not This Night

Find my CoD masterlist

Being part of the 141 pack meant you watched out for your boys, always. As their medic, it meant you sometimes flew into danger for them. When someone uses that knowledge against you to separate you from your pack, you pay the price.

Warnings: Blood, treating wounds, medical inaccuracies, shifter biology, shifter dynamics, psychological torture, physical torture, being blinded (hood over head), brief self-harm (pulling feathers). This one is a bit dark so if you would like more in depth warnings, come ask me.

Word count: 7.6k

Harpy eagle f!reader x 141 poly

You soared over the trees, sharp eyes watching for your team. You’d gotten the call that they needed you a few hours prior, so you knew they’d likely moved some from their last coordinates. But you doubted they’d gone far. You weren’t even tired yet, broad wings carrying you and your pack.

Finally, you spotted Soap, in a convenient space between trees. Good man, making your life easier. You didn’t cry out in recognition, because that was dangerous. But you did dive, tucking your wings close and waiting until the last possible moment to pull up, flapping down to land on your pack. It was specially designed to be sturdy enough for you to land on, fortunately.

“There ye are,” Soap murmured, grinning at you and reaching out one hand to stroke the top of your head. You blinked at him, chirping. “C’mon. Someone got a lucky hit on Ghost.”

You hopped off your medic pack, hopping a few steps away before you shifted. “How bad?” you asked, opening up your pack and throwing on clothes. For the chill more than for modesty.

You had no modesty around your boys anymore.

“Price wants ye to check, because Ghost is bein’ an ass.”

“I heard that,” came the grumpy growl from Ghost.

You rolled your eyes and picked up your pack, which looked more like a picnic basket when you carried it this way. “If you’re alive enough to growl, you’re alive enough to behave,” you pointed out. He still had his mask on, but he wasn’t arguing lying down, either. Hmm. Must be feeling worse than you thought.

You settled on your knees next to Ghost, giving him a quick once-over. Bandages had been packed down against his thigh, though you ignored them for the moment. Nothing else looked out of place.

“Anywhere hurting besides the thigh?”

“Took a round to the vest,” he admitted, a little reluctant and a lot grumpy. Probably mostly grumpy that he got hit.

“Just bruised,” Gaz said as he crouched a little to the side of you and behind you, out of the way but ready to assist. “Didn’t even crack a rib.”

“Lucky bastard,” you agreed, shifting your attention down to his thigh. “And this?”

“A graze,” Gaz said. “But it bled a lot, more than normal.”

You hummed acknowledgement, leaning closer. Ghost shifted, and you cooed softly, almost reflexively. He huffed but settled.

The wound wasn’t bad under the bandages, but it was in a tricky spot, just above his knee. You couldn’t see any real reason why it would have bled more than normal except use, which was kind of inevitable. But even so, just to be on the safe side, you smeared it with ointment and rewrapped it.

“How far do you have to go?” You packed up the rest of your supplies after forcing Ghost to drink more water.

“Little ways yet.” Price shrugged, planting his hands on his hips.

“I’m fine to keep going,” Ghost said, because of course he did.

“You finish your water,” you said, poking his hip. “Then we’ll see.”

He huffed, eyes narrowing at you. But he subsided. Mostly because you both knew Price would side with you.

“If you left now?” You raised one eyebrow at Price.

“We’d make it by dawn.”

You puffed out a breath. That was not too bad. Ghost was tough, you knew he could last that long, especially since he’d already been forced to rest (and probably to eat something, knowing the rest of the pack). “I’ll scout ahead,” you said, pushing up to your feet. “Circle back and follow behind, make sure you’re fine.”

“I’ve got your pack,” Gaz offered before you could say anything more. You rolled your eyes at him but didn’t protest. You knew better.

You also knew better than to shift again without eating something, so you ripped open a protein bar and ate it as fast as possible under Price’s approving eye. Tossing your clothes back at Gaz and grinning at his playful huff, you shifted back and took off again.

The route forward to their exfil point was clear and quiet, even to your keen gaze. Turning to circle back, you made sure to check back in on your guys as you flew above them.

No enemies behind, either. They’d done a good job of either killing everyone who’d tried to follow, or losing them. You expected nothing less from them.

Pleased, you made a few big circles just to be sure. Still nothing. No sign of enemies. You took your time following your pack to the exfil point.

True to Price’s prediction, just as the sun broke the horizon the pack made it to exfil. You dove down to join them, landing next to Ghost. Gaz tossed your clothes to you as soon as you shifted, and Ghost shoved water at you.

“You all are mother hens, y’know that?” you grumbled without any heat, grinning, even as you double-checked Gaz’s straps.

“Says the biggest hen of us,” Soap pointed out with a wicked grin.

“Now now, just because my tits are the best–” you started playfully.

“Enough,” Price interrupted, sitting on Gaz’s other side, between him and the opening. Smart man.

You and Soap subsided, though you did both roll your eyes. “Everybody good?” You looked around at them, meeting each gaze squarely for a moment, to make sure none of them were lying. They all tolerated it, well used to you by now. Satisfied that none of your guys were about to keel over, you settled back for the trip back.

Flying in a heli had never been your favorite thing to do. You much preferred to fly on your own. But you had to admit that the heli was faster - you’d tried once to keep up, and couldn’t. Which wasn’t actually surprising, just disappointing.

This flight was not bad. Not too long. Which was good, because you were getting antsy. Ghost had caught a nap on the heli, but you still wanted to make sure he was fine in better conditions than you’d had before.

As soon as the heli landed, you were out, watching Ghost carefully. He wouldn’t accept help, not in front of others, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t check in.

“‘M fine,” he grumbled at you very quietly as you fell into step next to him.

“I’m sure you are,” you agreed. “And I’ll be more sure after I get to look you over.”

Soap leaned closer, waggling his eyebrows. But he didn’t say anything, because he couldn’t. Not here. Not where people could overhear and get the wrong idea.

Simon was fine, as it turned out when you finally got him to medical. Heightened metabolisms were good for some things, after all, and that included faster healing.

But you still bullied all your guys into the nest to take a nap.

“Stop fussing,” Price grumbled, lifting his head to pin you with a look. “And get in here.”

“It is literally my job to fuss,” you grumbled right back, although you did stop messing with the pillows and observed the nest. There was a good spot next to Simon. You carefully stepped over Gaz and Price before you settled down with a soft chirp, nestled between Simon and Price. There. That was better.

Price’s soft huff made you grin to yourself. At least until Simon tucked you under his arm and started scratching your scalp. Then you relaxed into him.

Okay. Maybe you could take a nap too.

One good thing about having pack-only spaces was that you could be with your guys without fear.

Simon had been ordered to stay and rest and finish healing while the other three went on what was supposed to be a quick mission. A day or two all told, is how Price had phrased it. You didn't know the details, didn't need to know the details, but you did know that Simon hated this.

"Relax," you murmured to him soothingly, scratching your fingers against his scalp. "They'll be back soon."

He grumbled wordlessly, one hand curling against your thigh where he was also using it as a pillow.

"Easy, Simon," you murmured, low and soothing. The little bit of grooming helped both of you, you knew. And it was almost all you could do for the moment.

Until you got called to help with exfil.

You hated leaving Simon, knew he'd be all but climbing the walls in his anxiety, but… needs must. He understood.

This time you went without your med pack - supplies would be available after exfil.

You weren't even sure Price had called for you. But the order came from higher up, so off you went to go help.

From high in the air, the battlefield looked bad. You could see bodies still laying where they'd fallen, a visual indication of the path of retreat. It took a little time to find your guys, the three of them huddled together behind a half-burned building. There were no immediate threats, but you could see where enemies had set up to hinder them.

It was not an easy situation, nor an easy fix. You flapped your wings a few times, changing your trajectory.

You needed to give them a distraction, a chance to get out. Most people didn't look up - you could use that, get a good sneak attack or two in. Cause a little chaos in the line.

It would do for now, until you came up with a better plan.

You flew a little higher, using the angle of the sun to help disguise your descent. And then you dove, aiming for one soldier a little apart from the others. He never saw you coming.

But he screamed as your talons ripped through the vulnerable skin of his scalp and neck.

You flapped hard, leaving him to bleed out even as shouts started up around you. You managed to vanish into the sun, flying up high again. You'd be harder to hit that way.

Of course, now they were on alert. Damn. That hadn't quite been enough of a distraction for your guys to get away.

You needed something bigger.

Scanning the ground, you looked for something out of the way to pick up and drop on the enemy line.

It was a good plan, and it even worked.

Until you were flying away. Someone must have been watching, because there was a sharp pain in your wing, enough to make you screech. Your wing faltered and you fell, just able to slow yourself enough that you didn't injure yourself further.

You hit the ground in a flurry of blood and feathers and screeching. Your wing hurt, leaving you unable to fly.

Behind enemy lines.

The first man to lunge at you got your beak to his throat, blood hot as it splashed across your face and chest. Maybe you'd have time to get to safety, maybe you could shift and–

Something heavy fell over your head, completely blocking your vision. You screeched, loud and angry, but more heavy things landed on top of you. Something held your wings firmly down against your sides, the pain sharp enough to make you try to jerk away. But you couldn't, too many hands grabbing you and securing you.

Blind and trapped, you could only feel as you were picked up and moved.

But you weren't dead yet, which was terrifying.

People handed you off between them, and you tried to flap your wings or flex your claws or anything. But movement of any kind resulted in you being squeezed to the point of pain.

With no way to see where you were or how many of them there were, you gave up. Conserved your strength, so you'd have a better chance of escape once you could see again.

An engine rumbled to life, and you got squished in against a body.

"Try anything funny and I will break your wing," a man hissed to you in heavily-accented English. You didn't doubt that he, or someone, would.

So you behaved, because you wouldn't be able to escape if you had a broken wing. You listened to the occasional chatter in Arabic. You tried very hard not to panic.

Sooner than you expected, the car stopped and you were once again handed off. The thing never came off your head, never let you see anything.

But you could hear more people, orders shouted in Arabic, more movement.

Oh this was bad.

Someone carried you somewhere cooler. More movement around you, and for a brief moment you could see as the heavy thing over your head was yanked off - you could see two men in front of you, one of them grinning to show off two empty spaces where teeth should be.

Then darkness again as a hood was secured over your head. You'd never been put in a falconry hood, but you knew immediately that's what it was, just from the feel of the leather and ties around your head. You screeched, trying to flap your wings.

"Enough of that," a sharp voice scolded. You nearly startled to realize it sounded like a woman. There was another flurry of Arabic, orders it sounded like, and then hands grasped your right wing, the one with the bullet hole. Big hands held you in place, wing extended, other wing pinned to your side.

You had no idea what they were doing until you heard the snip, snip, snip. You screeched, enraged and despairing and agonized. But they didn't stop, and there was nothing you could do.

"There." The woman sounded far too smug, too pleased. "Now you can be my bird." She laughed, low and throaty and sadistic.

You shivered, tucking your wings in as tight as you could, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Bells jingled as you moved and you froze in horror.

Hood and jesses. They were treating you like a falconry bird.

If you could, you might have thrown up. As it was, you made a tiny distressed noise.

A door shut somewhere nearby, leaving you with the terrible feeling that you were alone.

You tried to pace off the room, but the fucking bells kept breaking your concentration. You could stretch your wings, at least, though the right one hurt. And the way the air moved around your wing was… wrong.

That was all the confirmation you needed, even as you pulled your wings in tight again and huddled in place, shivering. They’d clipped your primaries.

Even if the hood was gone, you wouldn’t be able to fly.

You had no idea how long you stood there, alone in the forced darkness. Time was meaningless as you mentally went in circles. Simon knew you’d gone. There was a chance the other three had seen you or heard the commotion. People knew you were gone.

Someone would come for you.

Or you’d be killed first.

But you didn’t want to die, your pack needed you, you couldn’t leave them, they’d never forgive themselves if you died here–

The door opened hard enough that it slammed into the wall, and you jumped, wings flaring in agitation.

“There’s my pretty bird,” the woman from before cooed, over-sweet and mocking. “Hungry yet?” Her steps were deliberately loud as she approached you. You stiffened, holding yourself tense, but didn’t move. “Now, are you going to cooperate? Be a good bird?”

You didn’t reply, but you figured that lack of fighting would be a response. Because you had no idea where you were, and you held almost no power here. You knew that if you got too uppity, they’d make your life worse. Probably not kill you - they’d had plenty of opportunity to do that, and hadn’t yet.

But you could think of plenty of things they could do to make things worse for you.

The hood was pulled off your head, and you blinked rapidly as you adjusted to the light. The room had no windows and only one door. The artificial light washed everything yellow.

And, most importantly, left you no way to know how long it had been, how long you’d been gone.

The woman in front of you wore khaki and brown, simple clothes that were more functional than fashionable. Brown eyes held yours, a smirk slowly stretching her lips when you refused to look away first. But she didn’t seem to care about a dominance game. She just stepped further into the room, setting down two bowls for you.

Like you were a pet.

Your stomach turned and you stayed very still, head tipped, watching her closely.

“Well? Go on. Eat while you can.” Her grin had stretched into a cruel thing, showing too many teeth.

You shuffle-hopped forward, the bells on the jesses setting off every nerve you had. You hated this. Hated her. But this wouldn’t be forever, you knew it wouldn’t. You needed to eat, needed the fuel to heal and save up for your escape (as soon as you had a decent plan).

So, much as it grated on you, you ate from the bowl, keeping your gaze on her as much as you could. It felt demeaning, dehumanizing.

You felt like some exotic pet. The feeling made your blood boil, made you seethe. But you were careful to do so very quietly, only to yourself.

“Good bird,” she cooed mockingly. “We shall see how long it takes to train you.”

Before you could do more than flare your wings in protest, the hood was shoved back on your head, plunging you into darkness once more. You flapped your wings twice, momentarily off-balance.

The door shut. A lock clicked.

And you were alone again, in darkness and silence.

It was impossible to track how much time had passed. You could hear only occasional muffled sounds beyond your room, had no way to mark the passage of time.

The only breaks from the darkness were for food, always far enough apart that you were hungry, always the woman and one underling. Always demeaning. Always difficult.

You suffered through five meals. Five meals. Each one worse than the last, with more taunting, more mocking. It was harder every time to not just leap at her and rip into her.

But you remained patient, somehow.

The muffled sound of gunfire drew your attention, and you moved back and forth restlessly. It was hard not to get your hopes up, after however many days of being stuck here.

When the gunfire got louder and you heard the muffled shouts outside your door, satisfaction surged. That was probably your pack, coming for you.

And if it wasn’t, well… There was more than one way out of here.

You waited for a lull in the fighting, in the shouting and gunshots and chaos. And then you screeched, as loud as you could.

There. If that was your pack, they’d know it was you. If it was anybody else… You’d deal with that when you could.

The fighting and gunfire got closer, and you backed up slowly, carefully. The jingling of the fucking jesses still grated, but it was easier to ignore with the fighting outside.

There were two shots outside, two thuds. Your heart beat faster and you half-spread your wings, talons clicking against the floor.

“Found her,” came Soap’s voice from the door, and the breath whooshed out of you all at once. “Fuck,” he ground out, as angry as you’d ever heard him. “Okay, ‘s just me, sweets. Ah’m gonna take this off, yeah?” Hands fumbled with the hood for a moment before it was gone, leaving you blinking and near-blinded by the sudden brightness.

And there was Soap, clothes a little bloodied, expression torn between rage and sympathy. He spared a moment to smooth a hand over your head.

“Can ye shift?”

You clicked your beak and awkwardly held out one leg, jingling the jess still attached.

His expression immediately darkened. “Ah’ll burn the whole place,” he swore, rapidly removing one jess, then the other.

Relieved, you immediately shifted back. Your arm ached where the bullet hole had mostly healed, and you knew you probably looked a wreck. You felt a wreck, a little shaky and unsteady. But you were also determined to get the hell out.

“Give me a gun,” you rasped, throat dry.

“Ah donnae have supplies for ye,” Soap murmured apologetically, even as he unclipped his handgun and handed it to you. “Keep close.”

You nodded silently, pushing down everything else. You’d deal with everything else later.

Warm wetness on your feet made you look down as you followed Soap out of the room that had been your prison for however long. Two guards, both dead. Clean shots. Blood had pooled in the hallway. Your upper lip curled and you stepped carefully through the hall, not wanting to slip on anything.

Soap motioned you to wait as you came up to a corner, and he peeked around first. A gunshot had him jerking back.

“Counted eight,” he murmured to you. “Wait here.”

“But–” Your shoulders raised, and if you’d had feathers they would have been floofing out.

“Ye have no vest, no protection,” Soap pointed out, soft but firm. “Jus’ got ye back, sweets. Donnae ask me this.”

And you deflated again. As much as you wanted to kill every bastard in the building yourself, he had a good point. “Okay,” you agreed quietly, grip tightening briefly on your gun. “I’ll wait.”

Soap pressed a quick, hard kiss to your temple before he was gone, picking off one before he even rounded the corner. You could do nothing but listen to the chaos and wait for the all clear to move up.

A scuff behind you had you whirling, gun up. The woman stood no more than ten paces away, teeth bared, a gun in her hand.

“Well well, is this what pretty birdie looks like when she’s not a birdie?” She laughed, the sound unhinged, divorced from reality. “What a waste.”

“Don’t move.” Your voice didn’t shake. Your hands didn’t shake. But your mind… your mind quailed.

“What’s the matter, birdie? Missing your hood?” Her teeth were bloody, eyes fixed on you as she took a step closer.

You swallowed hard, breath coming faster. If you never saw a hood again it would be too soon.

“We can fix that.” She took another step forward, lifting the gun slowly, as if it was much heavier than it actually was.

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t blink. You shot her, center mass.

She fell.

“Sweets?” Soap sounded only a little panicky.

“Clear!” You swallowed. Then again. You were a medic, yes, but this was far from the first time you’d killed. You’d hoped this would bring a little peace.

Instead you were simply numb.

“Move up!” Soap called after another minute. You obeyed wordlessly, turning your back on the corpse without another thought.

“How far?” you asked softly, stopping behind him, letting him be your shield again.

“Not much farther.” He glanced back at you, worried. “Ye alright?”

“Fine.” Your answer was short, clipped. Because you couldn’t think about being anything other than fine. “Let’s go.”

Soap hesitated a moment longer, gaze searching your face, before he nodded once, slowly. Then he moved, keeping you behind him. You kept close to him, moving as quietly as possible, ignoring the tackiness of blood drying on your skin.

He had you wait as he cleared one more room, and then the two of you met up with Gaz. Gaz breathed in sharply when he saw you but was quick to tug you to him in a hard hug, the edges of his vest and gear blunt and uncomfortable against your skin. You didn’t care, returning the hug with an edge of desperation.

“Here,” Gaz murmured, pulling spare clothes from one of his pouches. “Couldn’t bring extra gear for you, but this’ll do for now.”

You nodded, pulling the clothes on silently. They didn’t actually help you feel any better, but being with two of your pack did.

“Price and Ghost are almost done,” Gaz told Soap, tucking you between the two so you were protected. “Ready to meet up?”

“Ready.” Soap grinned, brief and vicious. “Ye’ll like this,” he promised you, taking the lead. You followed him, Gaz on your six. The building was quiet now, tension thrumming under your skin. But you kept up, swallowing back your nerves as best you could.

“All set up?” Soap asked as he stepped into a room. You followed, a little more cautious.

“All set,” Price agreed, eyes immediately finding you. A bit of tension leaked from his shoulders and he smiled, just a little. “Ready to get out of here?”

You nodded silently, but didn’t say anything. Which didn’t matter, because Ghost was in front of you in a few long strides, one hand gently cupping your cheek to tip your head.

“Injuries?” he asked softly, gaze sweeping over you.

“Just my arm.” And your feathers, but you couldn’t think about that for longer than a moment or you’d start screaming.

Ghost nodded, pulling you into his side.

“Let’s go,” Price ordered, taking point. The others kept you in the middle between them all the way out.

At a safe distance, the group of you turned. Soap waggled his eyebrows at you, grinning, before he pushed down on a detonator.

The entire building collapsed, shaking apart as explosions ripped through it. It was incredibly cathartic to see. Or, well. It probably was. You were… kind of numb.

“Here.”

You blinked slowly to find Price holding out a water to you. Your hands trembled as you took it, drinking slowly under the watchful gaze of your pack.

“It’s not far to exfil,” Gaz murmured, one hand resting on your shoulder. You leaned into the touch, breath momentarily hitching.

“Okay.” You swallowed hard and took the protein bar Price handed over, eating mechanically. You could barely taste it.

You knew this was bad, but. Not much to be done about it yet.

“You alright to walk the rest of the way?” Price asked, glancing down at your feet.

You blinked. You… couldn’t actually feel any discomfort from your feet, though you knew you should. You were standing barefoot on the ground, and it wasn’t even flat ground. “I’m fine.”

Price eyed you for a moment before he nodded. “Let’s get out of here, then,” he murmured. Contrary to his own words, he leaned in until he could press his forehead to yours, taking a moment to just breathe. Then he pulled back, once again taking point.

You followed, a little slow but moving under your own power. At least you weren’t in pain.

Yet.

The heli was waiting for you when you arrived. You shivered briefly against the wind and hurried in, buckling in with shaking hands. Soap dropped down on one side of you, Gaz on your other side. They both double checked your harness.

The flight back didn’t seem to take any time. You sat upright, tired and numb and cold, but unable to show any of that. You would eventually, you knew. You should probably warn your guys, you knew.

But you couldn’t.

The heli set down with a bump and you jolted. Two pairs of hands steadied you, Gaz and Soap both looking at you with concern.

But nobody said anything as they escorted you to medical.

You answered anything directly asked of you, quiet and stiff. The bullet hole in your arm was deemed mostly healed (it should have been more healed, really, but you hadn’t eaten enough), and otherwise you were dehydrated and bruised, but mostly unharmed.

The problem arose when one of the medics asked you to shift.

“No.” The word was only a whisper but you leaned away, hands curling into fists, muscles pulling taut.

The medic paused, eyeing you carefully. You were known to be more easy-going and cooperative, so this? Was unusual. “If you need privacy–”

“No.” It came out a little stronger this time, even as your gaze darted to the door, heart racing. No. Absolutely not.

The medic slowly leaned back, away from you. But their voice was calm as they called, “Captain?”

Price was in front of you a moment later, taking in your posture in a quick glance. He put one heavy hand on your shoulder, ducking his head to look you in the eyes for a moment. “Easy,” he murmured, frowning a little. “You done here?” He glanced back over his shoulder at the medic.

“She hasn’t shifted yet, so we’re not technically done,” the medic explained.

Price glanced down at you, and you shook your head, jaw clenched so tight your teeth ached. “Another time,” Price grunted, gently tugging you off the exam table.

The medic sighed, exasperated but unwilling to fight. “Fine. Make sure she sleeps,” they ordered, moving out of the way. “And eats.”

Price nodded, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You tried not to focus on that, tried to focus on following him instead. But it was hard. The touch had been grounding, helpful. Helping to pull you back into yourself.

“You should get cleaned up,” Price murmured, heading back towards your quarters. “It’ll help.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t manage more than that, couldn’t force more out. The numbness was slowly fading, leaving you aching. And tired. So very tired.

Price paused outside your door, studying you. “Do you want someone here?”

You swallowed and forced yourself to nod. You didn’t want to be alone. But you didn’t want anyone looking at you just yet, either.

Price nodded slowly, brow furrowing a little. “I’ll stay,” he rumbled, pushing your door open and ushering you through first. “Get cleaned up, dress down for the evening.”

You nodded wordlessly, slipping past him and grabbing comfortable clothes. You had a bathroom to yourself, something you were extremely grateful for, and you shut the door between yourself and your alpha. And then immediately opened it a crack, because you felt too trapped otherwise.

Hot water felt heavenly, after everything. Getting to scrub your head felt heavenly. Everything else… Well. You definitely overdid it washing yourself, scratching your skin nearly raw in places. You did make yourself bleed again, accidentally breaking open the wound in your arm.

But you finally felt clean enough for the moment and emerged, drying off and wrapping your head in a towel. That would do.

Price was still sitting on your bed when you emerged, phone in hand, though he turned his gaze to you as soon as the door opened. His gaze lingered on your skin, and you knew he was making note of everything. But he didn’t comment.

“Figured we’d go to the pack room,” he said, carefully phrasing it as an option, rather than an order. “Got Gaz and Soap bringing food.”

You nodded. “Food sounds good,” you admitted, walking over to him. You didn’t ask, just plastered yourself to his front, cheek pressed to his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of your alpha. Price hummed softly, one hand cupping the back of your head, his other settling on your back.

“Take as long as you need,” he murmured, low and soothing. “We’ll walk together, hm?”

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes, relaxing into his warmth. Just a minute. You just needed a minute. Price only held you tighter.

You finally pulled back with one last deep breath. “Okay,” you croaked. “Let’s go.”

Price didn’t object, but he did keep you close as the two of you walked to the pack room. Almost nobody was around, which worked out well, because you were starting to use your captain for help staying upright.

No sooner had you stepped into the pack room than you got swarmed. Somehow, you weren’t exactly sure how, they settled you on the couch pressed up against Simon, with Gaz and Soap chattering as they made up plates of food, and Price hovering behind you and Simon.

“Don’t ask,” you murmured to Simon, fairly sure Price could hear too. “Not yet.”

Simon hummed softly, carefully bundling you even closer to his side. “Not yet,” he agreed, about as soft as he ever got.

Gaz and Soap carried the conversation through dinner, both of them settling around you as well until you were entirely enclosed by pack. It should have made you feel better.

It didn’t.

All you could think of were the past eight days. Eight, you discovered when Soap let it slip. Eight days you’d been stuck in that hood and silence but for the jesses, treated like an animal.

It was almost enough to make you sick.

You swallowed down what you could, but ended up leaving food. It was odd - you would have thought you’d be ravenous, after the last days. But you weren’t. You were barely hungry, only ate to try to stave off their concern.

Which didn’t entirely work, from the quick looks and little touches you endured through the evening.

And then you just… settled. Let one of them take your plate when it was obvious you weren’t going to eat more, and relaxed. Simon stayed on one side of you, refusing to move. You leaned more and more into him as your eyes tried to shut, until he simply pulled you in to use his chest as a pillow. You murmured something, half complaint half thanks, and closed your eyes, the soothing sounds of your pack settling around you.

You woke to total darkness.

For a moment you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. If you moved you’d hear those damn bells, and there was no point because you couldn’t get anywhere, you were trapped, and your wings– your wings–

“Hey, hey, s’alright love,” Simon murmured urgently, hands patting at you. Which was when you realized you were keening, breath hitching in your chest. You still couldn’t see but you could feel your pack moving around you.

“Get the lights,” Price ordered. “Simon?”

“Not sure.” Simon put one hand over your chest. “You need to breathe.” It wasn’t until he put your hand against his chest, letting you feel the exaggerated inflation of his lungs that you realized he was talking to you.

The lights flipped on, bright and sudden, and you went limp. You were fine. You were in the pack room. You didn’t have a hood on.

“Love?” Simon leaned closer to you, eyes dark and worried.

“‘M okay,” you gasped, blinking a few times, finally settling back into reality. “Just. A minute.”

Simon didn’t move, just breathing in again. You did your best to follow along, nerves still strung taut from waking the way you did. Soap pressed up close to your side, his head resting near your hip. Your fingers curled gently in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp to help calm yourself. Based on his pleased hum, that’s what he’d wanted in the first place.

“Better?” Price moved carefully closer, doing a quick visual check.

“Yeah.” You licked your lips, very aware of your dry throat now. “Just.” You clenched your jaw. Admitting weakness was never easy, and this was no different. “Couldn’t see.”

Soap lifted his head to look at you. “Sweets,” he started, carefully, like he was feeling for land mines. “Did they keep the hood on ye?”

You swallowed hard. “Except for when they brought me food.”

“Hood?” Gaz asked, handing over a bottle of water to you, expression mostly blank.

“And jesses,” you confirmed before taking a deep drink of water.

“We’ll make sure there’s a light on for you,” Price said, before anyone else could say anything. Which was honestly for the best - you didn’t think you could talk any more about what had happened just yet.

“You should go back to sleep,” you murmured, setting the water bottle down and scratching Soap’s scalp again. “Too early to be up.”

“Hm.” Price tipped his head, looking at you. Then he huffed softly. “Stubborn.”

You only had time to blink before he was settling back in with the rest of you, getting comfortable. The nest was big enough for all of you, because you’d made sure of that, but still.

You didn’t think anyone would manage to get back to sleep, especially with the light on. But they surprised you - Gaz snored gently against Price’s ribs, while Soap used your hip as a pillow. (He always made the oddest choices.) Price didn’t sleep, but he did close his eyes and relax.

Simon just kept you close, his steady breathing helping your own.

Your pack didn’t quite hover the next few days. They did, however, take rotating shifts making sure someone stayed with you. Simon nudged you into the pack room every night. Gaz had pulled up a nightlight from somewhere, the soft yellow light always left on now. They didn’t let you feel ashamed of it, either, though shame still tried to wiggle into your brain.

Things weren’t okay. Wouldn’t be okay for a while. But they were getting better.

Except for your wings.

You managed not to think about it most of the time, focused on staying human and getting through the worst of the aftereffects. Sure, it wasn’t conventional torture, but it was almost worse.

Things finally came to a head when the rest of the pack shifted, Gaz and Soap racing outside immediately, growling playfully at each other. Ghost followed, more placid, looking at you once over his shoulder.

Price stopped in front of you, the bear easily able to meet your gaze. You knew that if he stood up straight on his hind legs, he’d be much taller than you.

“No.” Your smile was small and tight, pained. “You go. I’m not shifting.”

His head tipped, fuzzy little ears flickering back towards the open door and back to you. He grunted softly and nosed your ribs gently.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll come out for a bit.”

Satisfied, he huffed and went first, lumbering out the door. You followed him, briefly squinting against the light before you adjusted.

Gaz and Soap raced across the open space, occasionally trying to trip each other or jump over each other. Soap even got bold enough to bite Ghost’s tail and run for it, angry cat hot on his tail and gaining fast. Price found a nice sunny spot to watch and make sure they didn’t actually go overboard.

Pretty normal. Except for you. You stood stiff and still, watching them and making no effort to join. It was… too much. It wasn’t their fault, or yours. The only people responsible were dead.

None of them looked when you slipped back inside, as quietly as you could. You had one more thing you needed to do, and you needed some privacy to do it.

Your room was far enough from them that you didn’t worry about being found immediately. You carefully took off your clothes, folding them on your bed. One deep breath. Two.

You could do this. Hell, you’d been doing this since you were a child. Nothing would stop you now.

You shifted between breaths, braced for… something. But nothing happened. You didn’t immediately panic.

Okay. So far so good.

You spread your wings carefully, flapping them a few times. You could just see your reflection in the mirror. Your beak was just as sharp, your crest still upright. Bits of downy feathers stuck up from a lack of preening, but you ignored the vague feeling of wrongness. You had something more important to fix.

Your primaries had all been cut on your right wing. Not just some of them. All of them. It would take months for them to molt on their own. Months of being grounded, being flightless, being useless.

The soft, mournful sound ripped free from your throat, and you flapped again. You could hop, maybe get a bit of air. But you couldn’t fly, not like this.

Unless…

No. No, that was a terrible idea.

Except that it wasn’t, really, a terrible idea. The longer you stood there, head tipped, staring at your clipped feathers in the mirror, the more sense it made.

One last deep breath in and you dipped your head, tipping your wing to make it easier. It took a little shuffling and a little preening to get the right feather in your beak.

The first one came out cleanly, a few drips of blood accompanying it. You dropped the shaft to the floor, not giving yourself time to really feel the pain. You just did it again. And again. And again.

Until the floor was littered with blood and snipped feathers, the red stark on the black and white banded feathers. Your wing burned and ached, throbbing in time with your heart, and your chest heaved with your panting, beak open. You felt almost dizzy with it, mind gone blank.

“Sweets?” The panicked yell made you blink and cheep softly, though you didn’t move yet. Your door was unlocked. “Sweets, I smell blood.” Gaz hit the door a moment later, nearly tumbling inside when the door opened easily. He froze when he spotted you, anguish twisting his features. “Oh, Sweets, what did you do?”

You chirped at him, turning carefully, keeping your right wing flared.

Gaz knelt in front of you, ducking down to examine where you’d pulled out your feathers. “Doesn’t look like you’re still bleeding,” he murmured, almost absently preening your feathers. “But why–?”

You chirped at him and picked up one of the feathers by the shaft, showing him the cut end.

“Cut?” He frowned, gaze darting between you and the small pile of feathers, before realization hit. He swallowed hard, rage like a dark thundercloud. “But why pull them?”

You chirped softly, dropping the feather and hopping closer to him. You were not designed for flat floors, dammit, you were designed for trees!

“Do you wanna shift?” Gaz asked, frowning a little at you.

You shook yourself. Now that you’d shifted, you actually felt a little better. Still kind of awful, because you couldn’t fly, but you didn’t feel quite as raw.

He huffed. “Course not,” he agreed with a wry smile. “Can I help you preen?”

You chirped softly again, ducking your head under his hand. He took it as permission, which it was, and began combing through your feathers gently.

“Gonna have to talk to one of us eventually,” he murmured, hands gentle over your injured wing. “Can’t put it off forever.”

You clicked your beak at him and stretched, gently preening his hair. He huffed but allowed it, muttering something about you being a menace.

Gaz ended up letting you perch on his arm as he walked back to the pack room. Price huffed at your wing, gently pulling it to get a better look.

“Did you do this or did they?” His voice was calm, but you knew your alpha. He was not calm.

You chirped softly, looking to Gaz to answer for you.

“She pulled ‘em, but they were clipped.”

“Ah.” Price blew out a breath, fingers gentle as he checked your secondaries. “Force ‘em to come in sooner?”

You chirped a soft affirmative.

“Gonna need to eat more, then.” The look he gave you told you this was not an argument you would win. So you didn’t fight.

You let them take care of you and fuss (not too much), and you just worked on being better.

It took time, but the worst of the nightmares faded. Pitch black still bothered you but it was manageable, rather than panic attack inducing every time.

Things got better.

Your feathers still hadn’t come in yet, but you could be patient a little while longer. You could feel the itch where they were forming and growing. Good enough.

Your first op was supposed to be an easy one. Well. As easy as anything the 141 took on.

You, Price, and Gaz were clearing one building while Soap and Ghost cleared another. It was… not easy, but routine.

Until you stumbled over one man Gaz missed.

The man was in the back of the room, laying low. You probably wouldn’t have spotted him except a bit of light fell right on a very familiar feather. The black and white banding could, hypothetically, have been from any number of birds.

But you knew.

An angry snarl twisted your lips, and you stepped intentionally into the room, barely remembering to call to Price over your shoulder, gaze locked on your target. Your gun was steady on him.

He watched you right back, one hand reaching for a weapon from a fallen comrade in a way he probably thought was stealthy.

The bullet you planted between him and the weapon disabused him of that notion.

“Where did you get that feather?” you asked, voice low and growly. If you weren’t so focused, it would have startled you to hear how furious you sounded.

He looked up at you and grinned, front two teeth missing. You jerked back, body recalling more vividly than your mind the sudden darkness that had followed that grin.

“Easy,” Price murmured from behind you, just to the side. Close enough to support you and take the shot if you needed, but giving you space to do it yourself.

You breathed in deep. And shot him. For many reasons, including not leaving an enemy alive at your back.

But bending down to pull your feather from his shirt was just for you.

“You broken?” Price watched you, giving you space still. Letting you decide.

You tucked the feather in your vest and smiled. “Not today.” You nudged him, tipping your head to rest against his shoulder for just a moment, before you started walking again. “If we finish up before Soap, he promised he’d buy cookies.”

Price’s chuckle followed you out of the room. Gaz called over comms that the building was clear, and Soap started swearing. He and Gaz went back and forth on the matter of the cookies, easy bickering in the middle of everything else.

You just laughed, knowing your pack had you. Always.

#shifter au #f!reader #reader x 141 #john price x reader #simon “ghost” riley x reader #kyle “gaz” garrick x reader #johnny “soap” mactavish x reader

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 1 month

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Remember the story of Beidou, Noelle, Eula, Shenhe, Ganyu, Ei, and Yae wih a S/O who got shrunk?

Well what if the opposite happend.

As in Beidou, Noelle, Eula, Shenhe, Ganyu, Ei, and Yae dealing with their S/o turning comically large.

(Genshin Impact) Beidou, Noelle, Eula, Shenhe, Ganyu, Ei, and Yae's S/O becoming comically large

Beidou simply stares at S/O as they now nearly rivaled the ship in size, even when kneeling.

(Beidou) "Well, guess we're not taking you with us anywhere soon."

(S/O) "How did this even happen?!"

(Beidou) "Beats me. We'll figure something out though, don't you worry your little head now...Er, rather big head.-"

(S/O) "Can you at least say that without a smirk?"

Beidou made no reply as her smirk only grew bigger.

Maybe someone around Liyue Harbor knew of a legend or some kind of drink to help S/O shrink?

Or maybe even Xiangling could cook something to do that!

...Well, that dish would have to be pretty big.

(Beidou) "S/O, me and the crew will get you right as rain, we'll have to set sail for a day or two."

(S/O) "So what am I going to do?!"

(Beidou) "I'm going to find the Traveler, they saved the harbor, surely they can save your size!"

Noelle is stammering at the sight of her S/O. A minute ago, they were only slightly taller than her.

Now, they were nearly the size of a house in the city.

(Noelle) "WHAT HAPPENED?!"

(S/O) "I-I have no idea! I just blinked and...!"

Noelle immediately stands on the top of her toes, giving S/O a reassuring grip on their shoe.

(Noelle) "I'll grab Master Jean! Wait right here!"

(S/O) "R-Right....Not like I got anywhere to go anyway..."

A crowd was forming around S/O, but due to their size, they were able to trail Noelle with their gaze, seeing just how fast she ran.

(S/O) "Could she always run that quickly...?"

Eula's eyes go wide with shock, as S/O now stood over the trees without any issue.

Which was concerning, since they were only the same height as her thirty seconds ago.

(Eula) "What in the hell...?"

(S/O) "E-Eula?! Are you down there?"

S/O did their best to crouch down without crushing her or knocking down any of the trees.

For once, she was completely at a loss for words.

No quip or remark to address the situation.

(Eula) "A-Ahem! We'll get you back to normal, we just have to...uh..."

Eula has absolutely no idea what to do.

At the very least, S/O could make her scouting duties easy.

...Maybe she could convince them to let her ride their shoulder until they return to their original size.

Shenhe stares at S/O with an unflinching gaze.

One would be forgiven to think that she was completely unfazed by S/O's sudden increase in size.

However, she was anything but.

(Shenhe) "Could you always do that?"

(S/O) "N-No! I have no idea what this is!"

Shenhe's first instinct is to get Cloud Retainer, but she was hesitant to leave them alone.

(Shenhe) "We will get Master. Please, come along with me."

Shenhe insisted on staying on the ground to protect them from any potential threat.

Big or small, she would not let anything touch S/O.

Except for every tree and boulder they accidentally walked into.

Ganyu's stress levels go through the roof.

As did S/O.

(Ganyu) "Wha-I-Bu...?!"

She couldn't even form the words, as S/O panicked at almost hitting the building they were nearby.

(Ganyu) "P-Please wait here, I know who can help us!"

Ganyu doesn't want to leave S/O alone, but only Cloud Retainer could do anything about...whatever this was!

She is absolutely panicking the entire time as she runs as quick as her feet can carry her, any previous fatigue felt vanishing into the wind.

Ei is concerned, but more confused than anything by what happened to S/O.

(Ei) "What in the world...?"

(S/O) "I...I have no idea!"

Whatever this was, Ei would find a way to make her S/O normal.

She has S/O rest in the courtyard as a group of guards protect them from anyone who would mean harm.

But given their size, they probably didn't need it, not including the fact they were in one of the most guarded areas in Inazuma.

(Ei) "I wonder if Miko would have anything to say..."

Ei shook her head at the thought.

(Ei) "She would probably laugh..."

Yae's stomach hurts from laughing, seeing S/O's terrified expression as they now stood almost nearly the size of the Sakura tree.

(S/O) "WHAT THE HELL?! YAE, DID YOU DO THIS?!"

(Yae) "If I could, you would have found out much much sooner. And probably not on top of the hill."

She could probably find a solution very quickly, but part of her wanted to see how this long.

Not that S/O did, but if only they weren't at such a precarious position.

If they fell, now it wouldn't kill them but it would certainly hurt.

But at the very least, she now had a couple good ideas for some light novels.

And who better to sell it than the actual living giant?

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #beidou x reader #noelle genshin impact x reader #eula x reader #shenhe x reader #ganyu x reader #ei x reader #yae miko x reader #beidou genshin impact #noelle genshin impact #eula lawrence #shenhe genshin impact #ganyu #ei raiden #yae miko

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sonder-paradise · 2 years

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𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐈𝐈— 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭

◊ ft. diluc, childe, kaeya, zhongli, gn!reader

◊ genre. angst to fluff?

◊ cw. stabby stabs and brief descriptions of blood

— 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 𝐑𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐫

he had warned you not to make trouble. sure, the warning in of itself was just a minor precaution that he had spat out as the two of you left. but as diluc watches the blood-splattered blade grind into your stomach, his heart lurches. it should have just been another routine visit with a few abyss mages. so why were you staring at him with those horrified eyes?

your name is a whisper on his lips as he stumbles back onto his feet. in a flash the enemy evaporates into that familiar black and red mist. diluc rushes to your side; his widened eyes scan your wound, desperately trying to apply pressure while your blood stains his hands.

"why... why did you do that?!" he exclaims, "you should have just let me take the hit!" you smile weakly. the sort of smile that has him reeling and disgusted with himself. "i wanted to protect you. besides," you cough, "I'll be fine. you can't kill me that easily."

diluc holds you to his chest, burying his face in your shoulder. "still, please don't scare me like that. i couldn't bare to lose you too." you can feel his worry in the way his heart pounds against your own chest and his eyes screw tight as he if when he opens them you'll be gone.

— 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞

a confident grin befalls childe as you watch him from the corner of your eye. a peaceful day in the mountains of liyue have the two of you wrapping up a prolonged training session. perhaps he should have paid more attention to what was around but before he knows it, your gut-wrenching shout fills his ears.

childe stumbles, unsure of the events that had just transpired. he was certain you had shoved him just as he had called your name. but he blinked in a mute horror upon spotting your limp body slumped against the trunk of a tree. the monstrous geovishap growls ferociously at you and childe can’t help but let that horror grow into a vile rage.

the next thing you know, you’re staring at the most grief-stricken childe you’ve ever witnessed. his eyes are murky and tired. his hand clutches yours with such an intensity that you find it nearly hard enough to break. and for a second, childe appears to be at a loss for words. “i… i patched you back up,” he says slowly, “you should be… better now.” the way he sounds make it seem as if he’s trying to convince himself at this point.

“what’s wrong?” you murmur, softly squeezing his hand in yours. he just seems lost, unsure whether or not to scold you for what you did or thank you. “just… please don’t do that again,” he finally says, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

— 𝐊𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚 𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡

“kaeya!” you watch your lover gather his thoughts. you never would have thought a quick, routine scouting of the nearby mountainous forests would have resulted in an argument. but here the two of you were, struggling to explain to the other your innermost thoughts. the argument had been a petty one. just something kaeya wished to warn you about.

honestly, he was just looking out for you. it wasn’t often he got angered at you either. but something about the evening swayed his emotions when it came to you. upon hearing his name he frowns, turning back to hear you out at the very least. yet, as he does so the disgusting scent of blood snatches his senses.

kaeya feels the wet substance hit his cheek as you shove him aside. the ruin guard leaps, shadowing the land of his descent. but in the moment, kaeya’s quick to summon the strength to look back at your wounded body limp in his arms. your blood stains his skin and his lungs feel as though about to collapse.

when your eyes open, you're in a warm bed and at the end of it is kaeya. his eyes look tired. but a breath of relief flows back into them when he notices you are awake. "oh thank god," he whispers, kissing you fervently. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry." he repeats the words over and over until you finally hush him back into that loving embrace he adores.

— 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢

it's a flash of heartbreaking thunder that crashes down onto the man. one second you were assisting him with a simple task and suddenly he's gripping onto your bleeding wound, eyes wavering as he looks down at you. he feels frozen at his feet when you swallow harshly. blood spilling from the ghastly cut on your abdomen.

his shield should have protected you. you were not supposed to be his. his mouth opens and shuts, trying to comprehend the situation. he hasn't truly felt hopeless since the archon wars when she died. and now you may suffer the same fate because of his negligence.

"zhongli!" you cry, snapping him out of that horrified trance, "it's gonna be okay. i'm still here." it's his turn to swallow back the bile in the back of his throat and nod slowly. he can change your fate this time. "just hold on, my love," he says softly, wrapping your wound with a cloth.

"i trust you," you murmur. for a moment he almost wishes you didn't as he feels his heart sink even further. "right. just... please don't close your eyes," he quietly begs. you're in his arms in a second, determined to pay attention to his words as he heads towards the abandoned camp he noticed earlier. you can feel his hands tremble; if not from fear then from the anger towards himself.

Taglist: @xo-cuteplosion-xo @planetxiao @nonsense-corner @ireallylikehamsters @eccedentesiast-sapphic @rebeccka @the-lost-anime-dad @lettucecabbage-kun @irethepotato

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mickmundy · 2 months

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scout's ma headcanon thread! she was requested by a couple of people and i'm having a burst of inspiration for her so without further ado, let's get to it! i hope you like!

absolutely not your average "housewife"! there's lots of professions i entertain her having (hair/nail salon worker, waitress/bartender, something Generally Unassuming for a woman in the 70s to have as a job)… all intentionally mundane, but serving useful purpose in her life! good for keeping tabs on things around the city, sussing people out and potentially letting spy know any hot goss! these are just day jobs; she gets her thrills elsewhere!

knows everything happening everywhere, anytime. spy learned lots of his intuition-based skills from her! any time spy thinks he knows everything, she always has something in her back pocket that he doesn't! >:)

has a VERY contagious laugh that you can hear miles away. she loves being loud! will clap you really hard on your back or slam her hand on the table when she laughs.

can hold her liquor better than anyone around! doesn't like to get sloppy, but that doesn't mean she doesn't from time to time! loves drinking beer, but will always enjoy a nice glass of wine with her beloved spy! :-) wouldn't/doesn't care if scout is lgbt+ lol. it's absolutely not a big deal to him to come out to her, either. he knows his ma means it when she says she loves him no matter what! she will occasionally hit him with "well ya better bring somebody home to meet me sometime!" (loud laughter)

i think she'd be more financially well-off than her home leads one to believe; she's good at stashing and moving around spy's cash! her apartment is humble but she always looks immaculate. doesn't let scout know how much money she really has. very financially savvy and an incredible negotiator… even if it means getting a little ugly! used car salesman tremble in her presence!

fights like a scorned gambler who's owed a debt. won't let you know she can fight, though! likes it when people think she's just some dainty dame.

is a material girl, but knows what really matters. fell in love with spy before he was The Spy he is today and values loyalty and trust/honesty above all else. some might think that's ironic considering her partner of choice, but she'll be quick to quip back with a snide/cheeky "of course that's what you think! you only know the mask!"

breaking balls is her love language. she'll tease you, but never maliciously. this is also scout's, and one of spy's, languages of love too.

always trying to feed you. "put some more meat on your bones! it's good for ya!" (pops gum and winks at you) while i think she no doubt is well-versed in the lifestyle that spy leads, she's not Directly "in-it" like spy is. not an agent of any kind herself, but gives spy a hand when she can. knows how to shoot a gun and wield a kitchen knife!

grew up dirt poor and has "a champagne taste on a beer budget". high standards, takes no guff, won't hesitate to put you in your place. this (and many other reasons) is why spy loves her :-)

very charismatic, knows how to lie, but also how to be sincere. is genuinely a good mother to her boys, who love her in return. they're all protective of her even though they know they don't have to be; she has no problem sticking up for herself!

spy was not her first husband, but he's her favorite! she loves him very much, and he loves her. they aren't exes, they're happily together, and have an open relationship.

she knows all of the mercs (some better than others ofc!) and won't hesitate to talk their ears off when she visits the base, armed with embarrassing photos and stories about spy and scout that make them both groan and the mercs holler with laughter!

she picks out spy's suits for/with him. she's the only one spy would ever trust to dress him other than himself! they always look great together and accessorize around each other.

she does not tell scout about who his father is. not because she doesn't want to, but she knows the nature of spy's job and knows "the business" from being around him for all this time; it's the best thing to keep scout and herself (also spy!) safe. i think scout would be angry at first, but once it's explained to him, he'd understand. ma knows best!

spy taught her how to walk in heels and does things like painting her nails for her all the time. he always makes sure she has enough money for a well-deserved spa day, but if she knows he's coming to town, she'll let her nails get a little busted up so spy can paint them for her!

she loves to look at spy and sigh a fond "ugh, i could just kill you!" while smirking/bating her eyes at him after/as he showers her with gifts and other wonderful things… to which spy chuckles and hums lovingly and replies with "mhmhmm, ma petite chou fleur, if anyone could, it would be you. <3" and they give each other the most Loving Look.. :')

she's younger than spy but not by much. they met while she was a waitress in a diner in boston while spy was on a mission to assassinate a target in the city early in his career (when his suits were still cheap.. <3). he hides in the diner after a particularly fiery shootout and his pursuers come into the place. she recognizes him as the Quiet Gentleman who has been coming in for coffee in the mornings to enjoy with a cigarette. covers for him and spy never forgets her kindness and quick wit. he comes back after the mission ends and, with his payout from the job, treats her to a romantic night and promises to see her again. no matter how far away spy goes, he always returns to her! she has more faith in him than he deserves (so he says), to which she smirks and straightens his (now expensive <3) suit tie and places a kiss on his balaclava's cheek and says "we both know i only deserve the best." and winks at him and he smiles at her and hums in agreement.. kisses her hand… siigh.. this is a massively condensed "origin story" for them lol but! AH I LOVE THEM

AHH I HAVE SO MANY MORE THOUGHTS BUT FOR NOW.... i will leave with all of this... HEHE TYSM for reading! ^__^ i hope you enjoy ehe!!

#mercthreads #<- not a merc but this is where my long tf2 hc posts go slkjdf #dutchfoolery #dutchiehcs #tf2 #scout's mom

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honeyed-latte · 4 months

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Thinking about a Hiccup that ran away with Toothless after the episode in DoB where Berk thought the Gods were angry at Toothless.

After his electrocution did nothing to prove to the others that it was the metal, Hiccup instructed Stoick to remove the posts- and ran. If Toothless wasn't welcome, then neither was Hiccup, which suits him just fine.

Hiccup spends all his time rescuing Dragons, hoping from island to island to help, and he forms a sanctuary of his own in a way. He and Toothless head it as a two-man defacto Queen.

The island that would have been Dragons Edge becomes Hiccups Sanctuary, this brings his warpath to The Hunters front door and after skirmish after skirmish, hunt after hunt, auction after auction is upended and the dragons all freed. Money and men being lost by the handfuls, Viggos attention is most thoroughly snagged by who his men are calling "The Black Blight".

He doesn't believe them at first, who would? A man in all black on the back of a Night Fury pushing back all their operations away from the east, getting all too close to their bigger centers for Viggos comfort.

He comes face to face with this Blight not long after he confirms the mans existence, he knew where he'd hit next and patiently waited for the mystery man to rear his head and eureka, there he was, right on schedule.

It's surprisingly less violent then Viggo anticipated for a warrior his men had taken to calling such a... resonating moniker, but it was fitting that his guest is so sure of himself.

Hes a tall, slender thing doused in blackened sturdy armour, the kind of creature that moved with confidence and calm assurance even surrounded by Viggos Hunters. He was impressed by the candor and the mind that lurked beyond the empty, inscrutable eyes of the sleek helm, but they have mush to discuss if this was going to end in a way that favoured them both.

Viggo isn't surprised when the Dragon Master agree's to talk things over as opposed to battling it out, neither of them are unreasonable after all, but he is surprised when he takes off that intimidating (and beautifully crafted) helm and the man under it...is hardly a man at all.

A boy, rather, a feral and beautiful boy with eyes as quick and green as his Night Fury's.

Once they're properly introduced, they talk.

And talk.

And drink.

And talk...

Until they find common ground, until they find agreement; Viggo will learn how to more reliably supply his economy with trade, non-lethally and without the selling of dragons while letting the dragons he currently housed free, and in return Hiccup will help Viggo expand his reach to make up for the gap in his gold and stop attacking all Hunter ships.

The sun is high up when they sign their names to the document outlining the agreement, its a thing that makes the feral scoff, what good is the name of an Exiled viking really, but who cares if it makes Viggo stop hurting dragons.

They work together, closely together, to make sure neither of them goes back on their word. True to form, Hiccup teaches Viggo how to appeal to a dragons gentler nature, and Viggo opens up Trade in the east- scaled armour, recycled metal and scrap from traps, Gronkle Iron, weaponry.

They help eachother scout new dragons, forge new inventions to trap and release them. They end up being a Team more often then not as the Hunters undo their years of harm, and Hiccup undoes years of loneliness (in Viggo and himself.)

Slowly, Hiccup and Viggo enter a more romantic relationship as well, they're a perfect match and together they build a stronger empire. Hiccup is free to come and go as he pleases, he saves even more dragons with Viggo as his partner, and having Hiccup around further soothes Viggo's people- he's a kind man after all, helpful. Even if Ryker loathes him, even if Viggo is at risk of assassination at the hands of old allies, even if Hiccup see's Berk less and less. Its all worth it, because they have eachother and they're making the world safer for dragons.

#hiccup haddock #vigcup #httyd #httyd rtte #viggo grimborn #httyd au

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tf2-plus2 · 8 months

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Another day of weird battles, Assassin glanced at everyone getting ready. They were still carrying those spell books, "So... the weird Halloween stuff... is every year?"

Scout nodded, "Yea! Kinda cool, right? Break from the mon- mono- Ah, shit, what's the word?"

"Monot'ny," Engineer spoke up, "They're a break from th' monot'ny. Somethin' ta help make th' war less... min' breakin'."

She picked up the spell book that had been given to her, "Right... I'm starting to question why I applied here again..."

#smoke and knives (assassin)#Quick Hit (Scout)#Machine Rustler (Engineer)#Training Time! (Open Thread)#(I'm going to work on being more active guys!)

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estapa-edwards · 2 months

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GROWN UP - F. NAZAR

paring: Frank Nazar x fem! reader

word count: 4.4k

requested? yes - hughes brothers realizing how much they little sister has truly grown up, and she’s dating frank and goes to michigan

warnings: use of y/n.

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Growing up in a household filled with the clatter of sticks, the thud of skates, and the camaraderie that only a shared passion can bring, my siblings and I were bound by more than just blood. Hockey wasn't just a sport to us—it was a way of life.

I have three incredible siblings: Quinn, Jack, and my twin brother, Luke. Together, we formed an unbreakable bond on and off the ice, honing our skills and nurturing our dreams of playing hockey at the highest level.

Growing up, our days were a blur of school, homework, and endless hours at the rink. Our parents were our biggest supporters, shuttling us to practices and games, cheering from the stands, and instilling in us the values of hard work, determination, and teamwork. Our house was always filled with the sounds of skates being sharpened, sticks being taped, and the excited chatter of four siblings eager to hit the ice.

Quinn, the eldest, was our fearless leader. With his natural talent and unwavering dedication, he set the bar high for the rest of us. Jack, the second oldest, was the comedian of the family, always keeping us laughing with his quick wit and infectious energy. Then there was Luke, my twin brother, my partner in crime, and my best friend.

From the moment we laced up our skates for the first time, hockey was our shared passion. We spent countless hours practicing together, pushing each other to be better, faster, stronger. Our backyard was our own personal training ground, where we would spend hours shooting pucks, practicing our passes, and perfecting our slapshots.

Our competitiveness spilled over into everything we did, from who could finish their homework the fastest to who could eat the most pancakes at breakfast. But no matter how intense our rivalries became, we always had each other's backs. We were a team, in hockey and in life, and nothing could ever break the bond we shared.

As we grew older, our dreams of playing hockey at the highest level became more and more attainable. We played on travel teams, competed in tournaments across the country, and caught the attention of scouts and coaches alike. Our hard work was paying off, and it seemed like our dreams were finally within reach.

When it came time to choose a university, Luke and I knew we wanted to continue our hockey journey together. We both had our sights set on the University of Michigan, a school with a rich hockey tradition and a reputation for developing top-tier talent. We were thrilled when we received our acceptance letters and even more excited at the prospect of playing for the Wolverines.

Our time at Michigan was everything we had hoped for and more. We were living our dream, playing the sport we loved at the collegiate level, and representing the maize and blue with pride. The competition was fierce, the games were intense, and the camaraderie among our teammates was unlike anything we had ever experienced.

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It was during our freshman year at Michigan that I met Frank Nazar, a talented forward on the men's hockey team. Frank was charismatic, charming, and incredibly passionate about the game.

Frank was known for his speed, skill, and knack for finding the back of the net. I first noticed him during one of the team's practices at the Yost Ice Arena. His effortless skating and powerful shot caught my attention, and I couldn't help but admire his talent from afar.

As fate would have it, our paths crossed one evening at a local ice rink. I was there practicing alone, working on my stickhandling and shooting, when Frank walked in. He had booked the ice for a private session, and when he saw me on the ice, he approached me with a friendly smile.

"Hey, you're Y/N Hughes, right? You and your brother are making quite an impression here," he said, extending his hand.

"Yeah, that's me," I replied with a smile. "You're Frank, right? Nice to meet you."

We struck up a conversation, bonding over our shared experiences as collegiate athletes and the challenges of juggling academics with athletics. Despite being from different teams, we found common ground and quickly developed a friendship.

One afternoon, we met up at the local ice rink for a private practice session. The rink was empty, the ice pristine and inviting. We laced up our skates and stepped onto the ice, each of us carrying a stick and a puck.

"Ready to hit the ice?" Frank asked, grinning as he twirled his stick.

"Absolutely," I replied, feeling the familiar excitement build. "Let's do some drills."

We started with some passing drills, moving the puck back and forth between us with precision and speed. Frank's passes were sharp and accurate, and I found myself challenged to keep up with his pace.

"Nice pass!" Frank exclaimed as I managed to catch one of his harder passes.

"Thanks, you're not so bad yourself," I joked, feeling a sense of camaraderie and competition between us.

After the passing drills, we moved on to shooting practice. Frank set up in goal, and I took turns taking shots, aiming for the corners of the net. He was a formidable goalie, diving and stretching to block my shots, but I managed to sneak a few past him.

"Nice shot!" Frank said, nodding in approval as one of my shots sailed into the top corner of the net.

"Thanks, you're a tough goalie to beat," I replied, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

We continued to push each other, practicing our skating, stickhandling, and shooting skills. Frank was a skilled and supportive practice partner, offering tips and encouragement to help me improve my game.

As the afternoon wore on, we took a break and sat on the bench, catching our breath and chatting about hockey, school, and life in general.

"I've really enjoyed practicing with you," Frank said, looking at me with a smile. "It's been great getting to know you off the ice too."

"I feel the same way," I replied, feeling a warm sense of connection and gratitude. "You've been a great friend and practice partner."

Frank looked at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, what do you say we make this practice a little more interesting?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh?" I asked, intrigued. "I'm listening."

"How about a little one-on-one competition? Loser buys coffee?" Frank proposed, a flirty grin spreading across his face.

"Challenge accepted," I replied, grinning back at him. "Prepare to lose, Nazar."

"Alright, Hughes, you ready to lose?" Frank teased as we lined up for the face-off.

"Don't get too cocky, Nazar," I shot back, smirking.

The puck dropped, and we both lunged forward, jockeying for control. Frank managed to gain possession and took off down the ice, weaving through imaginary defenders with ease.

"Show off," I called out as I chased after him, determined not to let him get too far ahead.

Frank made a sharp turn towards the net and took a shot, but I managed to block it just in time. I quickly regained control of the puck and raced back down the ice, dodging Frank's attempts to steal it from me.

"Nice try," I said, grinning as I maneuvered around him and headed towards the net.

I took a shot, aiming for the top corner of the net, but Frank made an impressive save, deflecting the puck with his stick.

"Wow, nice save," I said, impressed but not deterred.

Frank grinned. "You're not getting past me that easily."

The battle continued, each of us pushing ourselves to the limit in pursuit of victory. We exchanged shots and saves, each of us refusing to back down.

During one particularly intense moment, I managed to steal the puck from Frank and took off towards the net. Just as I was about to take my shot, Frank caught up to me and managed to knock the puck away at the last second.

"Almost had you," I said, panting slightly as we skated back to center ice.

Frank laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement and admiration. "You're getting better every day, Hughes."

We continued to challenge each other, pushing ourselves to do our best while enjoying the friendly competition and flirty banter. The atmosphere on the ice was electric, filled with excitement, laughter, and the thrill of the game.

After what felt like hours of intense competition, Frank finally managed to score the winning goal, narrowly beating me with a well-placed shot.

"Looks like I win," he said, grinning triumphantly as we skated back to the bench.

"Congratulations," I replied, trying to hide my disappointment. "I guess I owe you coffee."

Frank chuckled. "I'll hold you to that."

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After our intense practice session, Frank and I headed to a nearby coffee shop to grab some much-needed refreshments. The atmosphere was cozy and inviting, with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air.

We found a quiet corner to sit, and I went to order our drinks. When I returned to the table with our coffees, Frank was already there, looking relaxed and content.

"Got you a caramel macchiato," I said, setting his coffee in front of him.

"Thanks, you remembered," Frank replied, taking a sip and smiling appreciatively. "You know me well."

I sat down across from him and took a sip of my own coffee, enjoying the warmth and the rich, creamy flavor. We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both of us catching our breath and enjoying the calm after our intense workout.

"So, was it worth it?" I asked, breaking the silence with a playful grin. "Losing that one-on-one competition and owing me coffee?"

Frank laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I have to admit, it was a pretty good game. And the coffee's not bad either."

We continued to chat and laugh, exchanging stories about hockey, school, and our lives outside of the rink. The conversation flowed easily between us, and I found myself enjoying Frank's company more and more.

As we talked, I couldn't help but notice how easy it was to be myself around Frank. He was kind, funny, and down-to-earth, and I felt a genuine connection with him that I hadn't felt with anyone else in a long time.

"So, Y/N," Frank said, leaning forward slightly with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Do you think we'll ever get a chance to play against each other on the ice?"

I smiled, intrigued by the idea. "Who knows? It would definitely be interesting to see how we stack up against each other in a real game."

Frank grinned. "I look forward to the challenge."

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As our friendship continued to grow, Frank and I made it a point to support each other by attending each other's games whenever our schedules allowed. It became a fun and flirty tradition between us, cheering each other on from the stands and exchanging playful banter and compliments.

After the game, I would wait for Frank outside the locker room to congratulate him on his performance.

"You were on fire out there," I would say, flashing him a flirty smile. "I knew you were going to score that last goal."

Frank would grin, clearly pleased by my praise. "Thanks, Y/N. Having you in the stands cheering for me definitely gave me that extra boost."

Unbeknownst to us, Luke had been watching from a distance, a proud smile on his face as he observed the camaraderie between his twin sister and his teammate.

"Look at you two," Luke would say, joining us with a teasing grin. "You'd think you were on a date, not at a hockey game."

Frank chuckled, giving Luke a friendly nudge. "Hey, a little support from the stands goes a long way."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide my own smile. "Well, it looks like it worked. You played great tonight, Frank."

Luke looked at us, his eyes twinkling with pride. "I'm glad you two are getting along so well. It's nice to see my sister happy and enjoying herself."

I smiled at Luke, touched by his supportive words. "Thanks, Luke. Frank's been a great friend and practice partner."

Frank nodded in agreement. "And Y/N's been an amazing friend and teammate. I couldn't ask for a better practice partner or cheerleader."

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One evening after a particularly intense practice, Frank approached me with an invitation from the boys' team.

"Hey, Y/N," Frank said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "A few of the guys from the team are getting together at our place tonight for a movie night. Would you like to join us?"

I hesitated for a moment, but Frank's friendly smile reassured me. "Sure, that sounds like fun."

When I arrived at Frank's house, I was greeted warmly by the team. The atmosphere was relaxed and welcoming, and I immediately felt at ease. Frank led me to the living room, where the others had already started setting up for the movie.

As the evening progressed, I found myself sitting next to Frank on the couch, our shoulders brushing against each other as we settled in to watch the movie. The rest of the team had scattered around the room, engrossed in the film and munching on popcorn.

As the movie played on, I felt Frank's arm casually drape around my shoulder. I looked up at him, and he gave me a gentle smile, his eyes meeting mine with a hint of warmth and affection.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that we weren't the only ones being watched. Luke, Luca, Mark, Rutger, Ethan, and Dylan were all stealing glances at us from across the room, their expressions a mix of amusement and curiosity.

I couldn't help but smile to myself, feeling a little self-conscious but also flattered by their playful scrutiny. I looked over at Luke, who gave me a knowing nod and a thumbs-up, clearly approving of my newfound friendship with Frank.

Luca winked at me, while Mark and Rutger exchanged amused glances. Ethan and Dylan just grinned, clearly entertained by the unfolding scene.

Despite the playful teasing from the rest of the team, Frank and I remained focused on each other, enjoying the comfort and closeness of our shared moment. We continued to watch the movie, our hands finding each other's as we cuddled on the couch.

As the credits rolled and the movie came to an end, Frank squeezed my hand gently and looked down at me with a soft smile.

"Thanks for coming tonight, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "I had a great time."

I smiled back at him, feeling a warm sense of connection and gratitude. "Me too, Frank. It was a fun night."

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As the play-offs approached, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves. The stakes were high, and I was eager to share the experience with Frank. I knew he was a big hockey fan, and I wanted him to be there to support me and my brothers as we competed in the most important games of the season.

"Hey, Frank," I said one day after practice, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in my stomach. "My brothers have a big play-off game coming up, and I was wondering if you'd like to come and watch with me?"

Frank's eyes lit up at the invitation, but I could see a hint of nervousness in his expression. "I'd love to come, Y/N," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement and apprehension. "But are you sure your brothers will be okay with it? I mean, I've heard a lot about them, and they seem pretty protective."

I laughed, understanding Frank's concern. "Don't worry, they're not that bad," I reassured him, though I couldn't help but smile at the thought of my older brothers' protective tendencies. "They'll love you, I promise."

On the day of the game, Frank and I arrived at the arena early to find seats and soak in the atmosphere. The excitement in the air was palpable, and I couldn't wait for the game to begin.

As the players took to the ice for warm-ups, I spotted Quinn and Jack on the ice, their focus and determination evident in every move they made. I felt a swell of pride watching them, knowing how hard they had worked to get to this point.

As the game got underway, Frank and I settled into our seats, cheering loudly for my brothers and their respective teams. The atmosphere in the arena was electric, with fans on the edge of their seats as the game unfolded.

During intermissions, Frank and I chatted and laughed, enjoying each other's company and the thrill of the game. Despite his initial nervousness, Frank seemed to be having a great time, and I could see him getting more and more into the game as it progressed.

As the final minutes of the game ticked away, the tension in the arena reached a fever pitch. The game was tied, and every shot and save was met with cheers and groans from the crowd.

In the end, Quinn's team managed to score the winning goal, securing their spot in the next round of the play-offs. The arena erupted in cheers, and I jumped to my feet, cheering and clapping as I celebrated my brother's victory.

After the game, I led Frank to the locker room to meet Quinn and Jack. I could see the nerves return to Frank's face as we approached, but I gave him a reassuring smile, confident that my brothers would like him.

"Quinn, Jack, this is Frank," I said, introducing them with a proud smile. "Frank, these are my brothers, Quinn and Jack."

Quinn and Jack greeted Frank warmly, their expressions friendly and welcoming. I could see Frank visibly relax as they shook hands and exchanged greetings.

"Nice to meet you, Frank," Quinn said, his voice friendly as he clapped Frank on the shoulder. "Y/N's told us a lot about you."

Jack nodded in agreement, giving Frank a friendly smile. "Yeah, it's great to finally meet you. Thanks for coming to the game."

Frank smiled back, visibly relieved and grateful for their warm welcome. "It was my pleasure," he replied, his voice steady despite his earlier nerves. "You both played an amazing game."

As we left the arena, Frank and I walked hand in hand, both of us buzzing with excitement and relief. The evening had been a success, and I couldn't have been happier.

"See, I told you they'd like you," I said, grinning up at Frank as we made our way to the car.

Frank chuckled, squeezing my hand affectionately. "Yeah, they're not so bad," he admitted, his eyes meeting mine with a warm and genuine smile.

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Although Frank and I hadn't officially put a label on our relationship, our actions spoke louder than words. We acted like a couple in every sense of the word, sharing a bond that was deep and genuine. Our interactions were filled with affection, playfulness, and a mutual understanding that made our connection undeniable.

One of the most noticeable aspects of our relationship was our frequent displays of affection. We kissed all the time, whether it was a quick peck on the lips, a lingering kiss that spoke volumes about our feelings for each other, or a playful smooch that left us both laughing and smiling.

Whether we were at the rink, out for coffee, or simply spending time together at home, our kisses were a natural and spontaneous expression of our affection for each other. It was a way for us to connect, to show our love and appreciation, and to remind each other of the special bond we shared.

Our interactions were also filled with a playful and flirty banter that kept our relationship fun and exciting. We teased each other, exchanged playful remarks, and shared inside jokes that only we understood. This playful dynamic added a lighthearted and joyful element to our relationship, making our time together even more enjoyable.

Despite the casual and relaxed nature of our relationship, there was a deep and genuine connection between us that went beyond mere friendship. We supported each other, celebrated each other's successes, and were there for each other during the tough times. Our relationship was built on mutual respect, trust, and understanding, making it clear to everyone around us that we were more than just friends.

Despite the playful and sometimes cheeky remarks from our teammates about how Frank and I acted around each other, we never let it bother us. Hockey locker rooms are known for their banter and chirping, and our teammates were no different when it came to teasing us about our close relationship.

"Hey Y/N, did you bring your boyfriend to practice again?" one of the guys would say with a smirk, earning a round of chuckles from the team.

Frank and I would just exchange a knowing glance and shrug it off with a laugh. We didn't feel the need to justify our relationship to anyone. We knew the strength of our connection, and that was all that mattered to us.

During practice, our competitiveness would sometimes spill over into playful one-on-one battles, much to the amusement of our teammates.

"Watch out, Frank, Y/N's going to school you!" Luke would shout from the sidelines, as Frank and I faced off against each other during a drill.

We'd exchange playful banter and flirty remarks as we battled it out on the ice, pushing each other to do our best while embracing the friendly competition between us.

After practice, the chirping would continue as we headed to the locker room to change.

"Y/N, is that a new cologne I smell, or is that just Frank?" one of the guys would tease, eliciting a chorus of laughter from the team.

Frank and I would just roll our eyes and laugh it off, not letting the playful teasing affect our relationship or the way we felt about each other.

Our ability to laugh at ourselves and not take the chirping too seriously was a testament to the strength and confidence we had in our relationship. We didn't feel the need to conform to anyone else's expectations or standards. We were comfortable being ourselves, both on and off the ice, and that was all that mattered to us.

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After weeks of growing closer and spending more and more time together, Frank and I found ourselves at our favorite coffee spot near the university campus. The atmosphere was relaxed, and the conversation flowed easily between us, just like it always did.

As we sat across from each other, sipping our coffees and chatting about everything from hockey to our future plans, I could sense a shift in the air. There was a new tension, a palpable sense of something more between us, and I could tell that Frank was feeling it too.

Finally, after a moment of silence, Frank took a deep breath and looked me directly in the eyes, his expression serious but warm.

"Y/N, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

I looked at him, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for him to continue.

"Would you like to go out with me? Like, on a real date?" he asked, his eyes searching mine for a response.

A smile spread across my face as I felt a wave of happiness and relief wash over me. I had been hoping he would ask, but hearing the words out loud made it all the more real.

"I would love to, Frank," I replied, my voice filled with genuine excitement and happiness. "I've been waiting for you to ask."

Frank's face lit up with a bright smile, and I could see the relief and happiness in his eyes as he reached across the table to take my hand.

"Really? That's great, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "I've been wanting to ask you for a while now, but I was nervous about how you would react."

I laughed, squeezing his hand affectionately. "Well, you didn't have anything to worry about. I've been hoping you would ask."

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A few years down the line, our relationship had flourished and grown stronger with each passing day. Frank had been drafted to the Chicago Blackhawks, and I was playing for a PWHL team, pursuing our dreams while supporting each other every step of the way.

As our love and commitment to each other deepened, Frank knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. He decided it was time to take the next big step and ask for my hand in marriage.

One weekend, Frank made plans to visit my family to seek their blessing. He was understandably nervous, knowing how close-knit and protective my family was. Luke, Quinn, and Jack had watched me grow up, and they had seen firsthand the love and bond that had developed between Frank and me.

Arriving at my family's home, Frank was greeted warmly by my parents and siblings. The atmosphere was relaxed and welcoming, but the tension was palpable as Frank prepared to ask the most important question of his life.

After dinner, Frank took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned to my parents.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, I love Y/N more than anything in this world, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her," he began, his voice filled with sincerity and emotion. "I'm here today to ask for your blessing to marry her."

My parents exchanged a glance, their eyes softening as they looked at Frank, recognizing the love and devotion in his eyes.

"We've watched Y/N and Frank's relationship grow and flourish over the years," my mother said, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "It's clear to us how much you love and care for each other, and we couldn't be happier for you both."

My father nodded in agreement, placing a supportive hand on Frank's shoulder.

"You have our blessing, Frank," he said, his voice steady and firm. "We've always known that you would be a good match for Y/N, and we're confident that you will take care of her and cherish her for the rest of your lives together."

Tears of happiness welled up in Frank's eyes as he thanked my parents, feeling a sense of relief and joy wash over him.

#frank nazar #frank nazar x reader #hockey #umich hockey

121 notes · View notes

brain-amoeba · 11 months

Text

i was sent this ask:

"Hello, you! can there be a headcannon where, (Scout, Sniper, demo, and my favorite Texan, engi) hugging S/o and the merc is like: “Oh no I’m in love with them” as their face is all red? And, S/o is sorta worried about them and asking “you good?” this scenario has been itching my brain for a few days lol

Anon jilly🦭🌺"

and i believe you may have forgotten to turn anon on when submitting the ask, so i still saw your url. out of respect for your anonymity, i will answer here instead of from the inbox, so hopefully it still finds you well! also i hope you don't mind i do a mini scenario for these as opposed to HCs, just to give yall a little more content :3

Mercs Getting a Big Ole Hug

Scout

-You two always had a strong bond, and a dynamic like childhood friends. It was always fun and games with Scout, and when the time came, he knew how to comfort you and be there for you albeit in his own clumsy and Scout-y way.

-It wasn't until he noticed the way the other Mercs looked at you did he start to see you as more than just a friend--he now became acutely aware of how soft your skin felt when it brushed up against his, the way your hair perfectly framed your face, every small detail about you, and he couldn't believe he never noticed any of this before.

-It was your day off, and as usual, you spent it with Scout. The two of you tired yourselves out playing catch outside, as well as other fun roughhousing typical of your other pastimes. While running for the ball, you tripped and fell forward, but Scout was quick enough to catch you, and held you in a tight embrace. You instinctively wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head in his chest. He maintains his grip on you, but his face is as red as his uniform--all of a sudden the outside air feels cramped and he's getting clammy. It was like getting hit with his own Atomizer: all the times he's admired every little thing about you coming together all at once to beat him over the head with the realization that he was in love with you.

-You finally let him go, looking up at him and yelping a bit in surprise. "Scout?! What happened to you? Should we go see Medic?!" You ask frantically, concern showing on your scrunched features as you took in Scout's seemingly-ill state. "N-Nah, I'm okay, really! More than that, actually...I feel amazin'." He gazed at you with a softness you hadn't yet seen before, but it sparked a warmth in your heart and your tummy that you didn't oppose.

Sniper

-Sniper wasn't exactly one for PDA, let alone physical touch. Just didn't tickle his fancy. But you, something about you gave Sniper the desire, for the first time in ages, to hold, touch, and generally be around someone of his own volition. But for some reason, he just couldn't find it in himself to act on those desires. Whether it be his own deeply-instilled professionalism or cowardice, he couldn't tell. Whatever it was, all he knew was him being afraid of scaring you off. So he did nothing. The minimal interactions with you now would suffice, and his imagination could do the rest.

-You weren't exactly having the best day. Just yesterday, you scuffed a one-on-one encounter with an enemy merc that cost your team the mission, and today's target practice was not kind to you either. You found yourself alone on the range, tears of frustration pooling in your [color] eyes as you trudged along to set up the target dummy Sniper once again. Overwhelmed by frustration, you found yourself hugging the Sniper dummy for even the slightest sense of comfort, dropping your rifle to the dust below with a thud. The real Sniper, who had volunteered to check on you, heard the sound of your rifle hitting the ground as he left the base. The impact immediately spiked his adrenaline and caused the worst thoughts to run through his mind. He quickened his pace, almost falling over in place once he beheld the scene. Sniper couldn't help but feel a tug on his heartstrings watching you embrace the dummy of him. A warm flush crept its way to his rugged features as he realized the depth of his feelings for you way-exceeded his expectations.

-It's now or never, he thought to himself, finally finding the courage to approach you. He put a large gloved hand on your shoulder, eliciting a fearful shriek from you. Your face reddened with embarrassment, stammering as you tried to come up with a good excuse for your behavior. Wordlessly, Sniper wrapped you up in a tight embrace which immediately soothed your worries. "Shhh. It's alright, roo. Don't cry, now." He spoke just above a whisper, and despite being there to comfort you, he himself was trembling with anxiety at what he's just done. When you finally gathered yourself and parted from the Aussie's embrace, your eyes widened. "Sniper! What's gotten into you?!" He looked down at you with a slight smile, as if it would conceal the way his heart pounded in his chest.

"You have, sheila."

Demoman

-He wasn't always drunk! Okay, maybe he was, but that didn't mean he was always unaware. He was especially aware of a certain little merc who always took him to bed, always got him water, and always made sure to wish him a goodnight, even when the rest left him to drink himself to oblivion. He thought of you very fondly, like a close friend more than just a colleague. You were the first of the bunch to ever show a genuine compassion for him and actually attempt to care for him even in his drunken state (and he knew that was no easy feat).

-It was another night like always, the rest of the team off taking care of their own business while Demo had some precious one-on-one time with his scrumpy, this time accompanied by you! And you were actually drinking with him! It was the weekend, after all, and you decided what the hell, why not, and let your hair down a little. While not nearly as intoxicated as your Scottish companion, you definitely felt the buzzy warmth of drunkenness sneaking up on you. You felt more bubbly, confident, and silly. You gazed upon Demo fondly as he slurred through stories of missions, both failures and successes.

-Right as he was getting to the story's climax, he raised his arms above his head for dramatic affect, and you impulsively leapt into them. "Awwe Tavichhh, I wuv when you tell stowiesss" you mumbled into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as if he'd leave you any second. The sudden show of affection almost sobered Demo up a bit, but he quickly dropped his arms and returned your embrace. In his drunken state, the warmth of your body against his felt like fire, and he couldn't help but notice the way you fit perfectly into him. Demo soon grabbed your shoulders, moving you back to meet his gaze. The sudden serious look on his face sent a shiver down your spine. "D-demo! What's the matter?!" He took in your flushed face as if he were looking upon the Mona Lisa herself before finally speaking, "Oh it's nothin, lass. I just enjoy lookin' at ye."

Engineer

-You were lucky enough to get some time off when you were informed this go-round of contracts did not include you. To your surprise, they didn't include Engie, either. You discovered this when you bolted for the workshop in a panic as you realized your prized headphones were destroyed! You were about to go on a walk before fishing them from your backpack and soon met with the disappointment of your prized possession in tatters--wires frayed, and hanging down almost mockingly.

-As you busted through the double doors of Engineer's workshop, he jumped in surprise, nearly dropping his wrench. "Well howdy to yourself too, darlin'!" He regained his bearings and approached you with a chuckle. "What's got you in such a tizzy, hm?" You simply raised the broken pair of headphones up*, looking at him like a lost puppy. "M-my headphones are destroyeeeddd!" You whined. Engie, behind his goggles, looked at you with a twinge of pain in his eyes just from hearing how distraught you were. Though he was empathetic to your "loss", he couldn't help but admire how adorable you sounded when you whimpered, and got a bit of an ego-boost from how you immediately came to him for aid. Engie took the headphones from you, inspecting them closely as he set them down on a nearby workbench. "Y'know, dear, these might not be a lost cause...let's see what some good ole fashioned Texan ingenuity can do!" He assured you with a sly smile.

-You fidgeted nervously as you watched over his shoulder while he tinkered away on your poor headphones. "Can I get you somethin' to drink darlin'? Maybe some water?" Engineer didn't take his eyes off the headphones as he spoke, currently re-twisting and wrapping wires before getting to work on the broken frame of the device. "I'm okay, thank you, Engie..." Truthfully, you were just too nervous to take your eyes off of the headphones while Engineer repaired them. Of course, you trusted his skillful hand, but with them being such a meaningful item to you, you couldn't help but hover over his shoulder and watch. Suddenly, Engie spoke up again, this time with a command-- "Close your eyes, dear." Nervously, you did as you were told. Engineer turned to face you, gently placing the repaired headphones on your head. Your eyes shot open and hands immediately went up to feel the newly repaired device now muffling your hearing.

-Without a second thought, you pulled Engie into a tight embrace. "Engie, you're the best!! Thank you so much!" You exclaimed, nuzzling his chest a bit as the two of you embraced. His large gloved hand gently caressed your back, giving it a slight pat in response to your praise. While Engineer typically maintained a relaxed exterior, internally, he was practically melting. A proper southern gentleman such as himself couldn't be indecent in the presence of a lady, but the fog on his goggles and pink in his cheeks said otherwise. You pulled away, removing the headphones. You went to inspect them further, but the sight before you stopped you dead in your tracks. "Engie?! You feeling alright??" He looked like he was about to pass out--and he felt like it, too.

-Engineer simply nodded, placing his ivory-colored cowboy hat on your head in response.

*this is exactly what i envisioned for this scene btw

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 x reader #scenarios #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 engineer x reader #dell conagher #mick mundy #tavish degroot #anon #requests

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