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...
We all lose our cool sometimes; even deadly assassins.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The doe-eyed girl captivated the Frenchman of the team. His suave and smug façade broke as soon as she stepped into the room. Her quirky little smile that shined, warmed the assassin's heart, as well as his face; he was thankful his balaclava concealed how flustered she made him. He was utterly awestruck, whether it be on the battle field, amidst bloodied warfare, or merely sitting in the common room, surrounded by team mates on a rare cease fire day. She was utterly stunning, and the Spy could hardly keep himself together around her.
When battle commenced, the assassin would often trail in her footsteps. When he was confronted by (Y/n), as she was desperate to know why she often noticed him silently watching her, she was only told it were to protect her. Though he was not lying. Many times she had been shoved aside, out of an opposing snipers line of fire, and he had taken the bullet instead. (Y/n) took the same precautions when it came to defending Spy. Most of the time she kept an eye open for enemy the Pyro, and took him out swiftly before he had a chance to set the Frenchman alight.
A specific encounter aggravates the Spy when spoken of. During a battle (Y/n)'s team were hopelessly losing, the girl had managed to weave her way through the enemy defences and make her way to the Intelligence Room unharmed, with a friendly Spy by her side. Spy insisted he stay just outside the room, to look out for their foes. As she approached the briefcase, a strong feeling of a pair of invisible eyes staring at her, and burning through her very being made (Y/n) feel uneasy.
--
"Show yourself, spook." She spat.
With a chuckle a Spy emerged from the shadows as he uncloaked, twirling his butterfly knife in his hand.
"I suggest you run along. I surely wouldn't want to back-stab a girl as beautiful as you."
There was a sense of bitterness and sarcasm in his words. Little did (Y/n) know, the Spy bearing the colour of her team, had cloaked himself and stepped into the room with her. His blade was held under a grip tight enough to break it. The Frenchman was growing impatient, and was eager to kill the opposing Spy without mercy.
"Fuck you, Spy." She growled, earning a laugh from the man edging closer to her.
(Y/n) pulled out her melee weapon. "Come any closer and I'll have your fucking head."
Smirking, the Spy stood inches away from her, tormenting her height as he loomed over her. His hands clasped behind his back as he spoke. "Such dirty words from such a pretty little mouth."
A shrill scream echoed in the room as the enemy crumbled to the floor, and pool of blood surrounding him. (Y/n) peered at her saviour, noticing that her French counterpart was evidently fuming; the way his gaze sharpened and his teeth gritted together surely proved this.
