Team Fortress 2 x Reader Collection

Motivation [Medic]

In the Medbay, Medic was fumbling with his books on lobotomy, contemplating doing the surgery on [C/N] instead so at least one of them wouldn't feel those feelings anymore. A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his trance.

"Doc, come outside for a sec would ya?"

Medic grunted. "Herr Engineer, vhat is it? I'm busy making good life decisions." His swivelled chair spun around to face his comrade, who only snorted in response. "We both know that ain't true. Ya need to talk to her."

Being a stubborn man, Medic pursed his lips and folded his arms over his chest. "Nein, I do not need to discuss anyzhing with her, leave me in peace bitte." He hesitated to add the politeness but didn't want to be too sharp with his friend. This was quickly made regrettable when with all the strength of carrying heavy toolboxes all day, Engineer dragged Medic and his chair out of the Medbay, much to the chagrin of the seated male.

Bringing the cargo to the meeting place, Heavy gently – but not gently enough – dropped [C/N] onto the bed in his own private quarters. "We wait here until leetle man brings Doktor." The female huffed. "'Leetle man'? Engie is in on this too?" Heavy nodded.

"If we veren't friends – Mien Gott I'd be sawing off your flesh hand!" The thick German accent boomed from the hallway, causing [C/N] to flinch. "Heavy, I don't want to do this, please let me go." She started to get up when a large hand shoved itself into her face. "Nyet."

As Engineer not-so-gracefully tossed the chair forward, Medic stumbled to his feet and ended up bumping into the breathing brick Russian wall. Once he regained his composure, he gave both men agitated looks, "Heavy, jou're involved in zhis too?" With only an affirmative grunt was given as Heavy shifted to make his way over to the door with Engineer and the swivel chair.

"Now don't ya dare think about leavin' this here room till ya have a proper talk." Engineer stated, pointing two fingers at Medic, then at [C/N]. "We will guard door to make sure of this." Heavy added, while Engineer gave an affirmative nod. Heavy's massive hand reached above the shorter man as he closed the door behind them, allowing for the room to fill with anxiety and silence.

Medic refused to make eye contact, while [C/N] refused to even look in his direction. It took a full minute of silence before [C/N] had the courage to speak up. "I'd have preferred if you had said something," Frail, cold arms wrapped themselves around their owner's form as she continued. "Instead of just ignoring me and expecting me to not think twice about it." Another lengthy silence, now it was the man's turn to talk. "I just don't zhink it is a good idea." He confessed. "I share your feelings [C/N], but jou know I am not zhe most, ethically sound member of zhe team."

"Ethically sound? Medic, we're mercenaries." [C/N] retorted, finally turning her head to face him. He let out an awkward chuckle, his arm reaching behind his head to scratch awkwardly at his neck. "Right, well, jou know what I mean."

"No, I actually don't." Her words sliced through the thick air, laced with annoyance. The vagueness, the assumption, it was exhausting. This was why she hadn't had the motivation to pursue him further. Some found mysterious men sexy, but not she. If [C/N] wanted a mystery, she'd have taken a likely to Spy – and even then, he was more upfront about certain subjects. "Are you referring to your experiments? I don't love you because I think I can change you if that's what you're concerned about." The blunt undertones struck Medic right to his core, a wave of guilt filled him. It was unfair of him to assume she'd want to change him, but sometimes past experiences affected modern judgement. His arms shifted so he could hold his left hand in his right, his fingers squeezing and stroking his left ring finger.

"Frau, I haven't been with someone since –"

"Since you were married?" [C/N]'s eyes were fixated on his hands and their actions, connecting the dots fairly quickly.

"Ja."

The bed creaked and groaned as [C/N] stood up, taking his sizable left hand into her smaller, cold hands. Tenderness was afforded to his ring finger. "You may be the most deranged when it comes to, certain things," She confessed, "But I love that about you. You're unafraid, bold, a mad doctor stereotype. It's kind of hot." The comment caused the pair to laugh in unison.

"I did not realize you had a fetish." Medic spoke in a coo, his words laced with mischief. [C/N] let out a snort, "You're not allowed to call it that unless you give me a chance." The German hummed, considering the notion. "That depends, vill jou stop lingering on zhe couch if I do?" [C/N] playfully slapped his arm in response. "You are the reason I was doing it in the first place!"

With great tenderness and care, Medic moved his right hand up to her face, cupping her cheek and wrapping it the warmth of his palm and fingers. "Zhe yes, I vould like to give us a try."

[Bonus]

A month had passed since Medic and [C/N] gave the relationship a chance, and wouldn't you know they were still going on strong. In fact, Medic was doing even more crazy experiments with her by his side. She was encouraging him to do whatever he wanted – within reason – and now he was attempting to clone a baby Soldier.

With a push from [C/N], the pair decided to do something nice for Heavy and Engineer, as without their help, they likely would've both been lobotomized. Their shared present was left on the couch where they had found [C/N] sulking only a month ago.

"We did a good thing Heavy," Engineer spoke up as the pair were making their way to the lounge. "Bringing a couple together, hell we should be matchmakers." Heavy let out a chuckle and smacked the Texan on the back, "Heavy makes better killer of men then cupid, but when it is time to retire Sasha, maybe."

Upon arriving to the lounge, the two went to the couch to see their gift, a bottle of bright pink liquid in a wine bottle. Attached was a little note in Medic's cursive that read:

You two were able to help us find love, now it's your turn. – M & [C/Initial]

P.S. You give it to someone else; don't drink it yourself.

Maybe their experiments were getting a little out of hand.