One-shots and headcanons for Team Fortress 2!
(Disclaimer) : Any content deemed as offensive is purely unintentional and does not reflect the author's personal views.
- Originally published in 2017 , and still on-going
- Cover Image Is Mine!
- Any A...
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"Shoot her, bushman."
His French counterpart stood beside him, a cigarette between his fingers, uttering orders to the Aussie with a smug smirk plastered across his face.
"Pull the trigger."
The Sniper snarled with each word spoken; boiling with rage. He could sense the grin the Spy held. With sweaty palms, Sniper tightened his grip on his rifle, staring down the scope at his target. His sights landed on the female mercenary on the opposing team. As he eyed her being, he breathed a sharp breath.
"What's the matter-"
The deafening sound of his rifle pierced the atmosphere. A blood-curdling scream echoed across the plain as her body fell the ground. As the Sniper lowered his weapon, the Spy chuckled to himself. Letting his gun fall to the floor, the Aussie rubbed his eyes, seemingly tying to erase the thought of his previous kill.
The Frenchman inquired, "Still not over her?"
Sniper huffed in annoyance, never responding to the Spy. Instead he raised his rifle once again, scanning the battlefield for another target. Like lightning, a bullet was fired, penetrating the skull of an opposing Medic.
"Loving her is forbidden." The Spy said, leaning against the wall with his shoulder. "I'm sure you know of this." He added.
With a sigh, Sniper turned to face the Frenchman, observing how he placed his cigarette between his lips, blowing a cloud of smoke shortly after.
Fixing his hat, Sniper spoke in a hushed voice. "You have a job to do, spook. Now get lost."
--
With a forceful jolt, (Y/n) appeared in the Re-spawn Room. She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping. As her eyes fluttered shut, she shook her head, disappointment washing over her being.
The room she stood idly in held no other being but the girl. Startling (Y/n), a heavy thud sounded from beside her. Upon facing the noise, she noticed a friendly demolitions expert huff to himself. His furrowed brows and threatening death-stare had softened once he locked eyes with his friend.
A half-smile appeared on (Y/n)'s face. "What got you in here?" She laughed.
The Demoman grumbled. "Sniper."
(Y/n) giggled while restocking her ammunition. Upon hearing her name being called from the man beside her, she perked up. The bottle of alcohol Demo held in his hand, lowered from his lips, a drunken, toothy smile forming on his face.
