Tf2 x reader headcanons/oneshots

How we met

Warnings: Abuse, blood, kidnapping, robberies
Prompt: Pyro and you are trying to figure out what to do when your friends ask about how you met.
Reader notes: Reader used to work at a cafe, but now works as an accountant. No gendered pronouns at all.

Italics means someone's talking.

This is written in a unique 1st PoV of Pyro, using only pronouns I/me/you (sorry if it get's confusing)!

This is for my friend on my Discord server (check my chapter about it (in the 'A/N' section))!

It was Wednesday morning (one of my sporadic off days), and we were both sitting on the white bedcover (I always liked how it smelt of you so whenever we washed it, I got you to spray your favourite scent on it).

No way, that's such a boring 'how we met' story. Definitely not that one. We had been sitting in your apartment for at least 15 minutes, brainstorming ideas for when your friends asked about how we met.

Well, what do we say then? I asked you; we surely couldn't tell them the original.

After some thought, you hummed and bounced lightly, something you always did when you came up with an idea. I had to gently rest my hand upon your knee; you were starting to shake the bed and I didn't want the soft white sheets sliding off onto the planks.

Okay, okay. You know how I work as an accountant at Harvest & Trustee? I nodded. You had always complained about working there, but the money had tempted you (I need it to buy stupid human things, you told me before accepting the job offer).

What if, bear with me here, you kidnapped me? I could barely hold in my shock within me, quickly turning towards you, staring in disbelief at your unbothered face. The whole point was that people thought we are normal, so why would this help?

Hey, I said bear with me! Now would you let me continue? I promise it'll be worth your while...! You always had me with your words; I sighed and let you finish.

Okay, finish.... You smiled that one type of smile, you know, the one where the skin beside your eyes scrunched up a little? You liked to call that a 'true' smile. I like to call it that too.

Okay so, imagine, I was working at the bank – as per usual – when all of a sudden, you, like, start shooting at the ceiling, shouting at everyone to get the heck down. Like, you're a bank robber or something cool like that!

Firebug, have you seen me? I don't really look like someone cut out for that kind of job.... I'm too.... soft. You snickered at me and said that Babe, you're a trained killer. You literally kill people for money.

You weren't wrong, but still, I could never harm those who mean no harm. The only people I've ever hurt, I reassured you (even though you seemed to have no concerns about it before), were those who hurt me or someone I love.

You seemed to pause at this, a thoughtful expression switched out the otherwise silly one you had earlier; I understood what you were thinking about.

Uhm.... I'm sorry. I felt bad. A billion loud thoughts drowned my mind, and I couldn't speak properly again. I hate when this happens.

I...I didn't- I.... I... I hate when I can't speak properly (it happens all too often).

No, no, it's fine. Hey, it's okay, it's okay. You hugged me, quickly rubbing circles into my back; this always helped when I got overwhelmed.

Hey, I didn't finish my story. Can I continue? I softly nodded.

Okay, so let's say you saw me, the accountant working on their shift, and decided to take me hostage. I shook my head; you were clearly not taking this as seriously as I was, but I didn't mind too much since I loved whenever you told me your thoughts and stories.

So, you tied my hands up with this red hair tie and threatened to kill me unless the police let you steal. I didn't get how you came up with this kind of thing. I liked how creative you were, but....

How is this a love story? I asked you. That seemed to snap you out of your thoughts.

Just because it's a 'how we met' story, doesn't mean that it has to be romantic. It could be a comedy, you know?

But it's supposed to be... isn't it? You looked at me with those pretty eyes of yours (I had to stop myself from getting too distracted). Isn't that how those kinds of stories work?

You sighed and ruffled your hand in my hair (I always liked when you did that, even if the others called me a 'pet' to you). Well, our one wasn't exactly romantic, and look at us now, we still love each other very much. You weren't wrong, our story wasn't like normal stories, but I still loved you.

Okay, I know what you mean, but can't we just pretend we met like everyone else? I suggested. All you did in response was sigh in exasperation.

Well then, what do you want to believe? I didn't really think about that until you asked me. What did I want?

Well, what if.... what if you still worked at that coffee shop, you know that one uhm... 'Bitter than you'? You nodded.

And like, I was a regular there? A-and, I saw you there, with that red hair tie of yours and that cute face- and I wanted to ask you out for ages, but I was too shy...!

You chuckled and lightly nudged me in a playful way. Now that's definitely true. I mean, I was the first person to make a move.

Hey, I did make some moves! You just.... never picked them up. You rolled your eyes. Sure.... Anyway, continue.

Right so... Eventually all my friends convinced me to ask you out... and then you said...

And then I said?

What do you think? We're together... Right?

You laughed and lightly pushed me back on our bed, your smile on top of me.

No, of course not... I really... You inched your face closer to mines. Really... You gave me a quick peck, and my face quickly flushed a warm tone. ...hate you.

You rolled back off me, lying right beside me eyes locked on mines.

What are we going to tell people then? I asked.

I vote on my one! I think it would be so fun to tell right? I sighed; we were getting nowhere with this.

Maybe we should just not tell anyone about how we met. You hugged me tight, letting me put my head on your chest (I always liked when you did this).

Maybe.

It was a Thursday night when it happened. It was an off day (which didn't happen often).

I saw you there, right outside the diner, hair soaking from the rain, a red hair tie on your wrist.

But that wasn't the red accessory I was focused on. There was blood. Dripping down off your nose, the same colour as the liquid on the taller man's hands.

As someone who kills for a living, I'm used to gruesome scenes. But this was different. It made me angry, seeing someone so beautiful getting hurt.

The only thing I remember after punching him relentlessly, was you shouting at me to stop, that I need to get out of here, help me.

After that, I took you back to my workplace.

I remember that you at first, didn't speak much (you didn't even tell me your name). All you said was thank you for letting me stay here, and that I really needed to leave, so thank you for helping me.

Once you had found a place, we were already together, you even asked me if I wanted to stay with you (I couldn't permanently since my job, but now I go there on my off days).