TF2 x Reader Oneshots

Spy X Singer!Reader

Thought of this while being bored in class X3 just some usual fluff!

The bar was packed with people tonight. Smells of expensive cologne, crisp, brewed beer, and assorted alcohol made for a familiar feel of the place you've considered your home for the past four years. You loved it here: The nice customers that chat idly at the counter or the smooth jazz that reverberate melodiously all around- all that was great and all, but nothing could compare to what you do best.

You sang here, up on a platform and all that kind of setting- it wasn't flashy, but not totally bland either. The stage almost had a rustic charm about, reminding people of an old Hollywood vibe. You got up with a smile on your face, your fitting crimson dress flowing gracefully and showing off the curves and contours of your body as the different lights bounced perfectly on the soft but silky material.

You don't always get dressed up when you perform, so why the trouble tonight? Well, this day just so happens to mark the fifth year you've worked here, and to celebrate, you pull off a special concert for the customers as you have been doing annually for the past recent years. You wanted to make this as special as all the others, maybe you could even turn it up a notch this time!

Setting the microphone comfortably in your fingertips, you skated your eyes over the crowd one more time before signaling the DJ nearby to start the music. Once the first note hit, you gave out a lopsided grin, as you always do whenever you recognize a song close to your heart. You sighed, closed your eyes, and parted your lips to sing, embodying the song in an emotion only your heart can relate to.

You opened your eyes and saw through your dark lashes a familiar stranger, masked and suited, glazing his eyes on your elegant form. You stared back into his orbs, strikingly blue and piercing as always. He had an air of mystery and enigma about him- like a shadow or a fleeting whistle of the wind. His form exuded confidence and power, but not arrogance or tyranny- which is something you've always noticed and admired whenever he'd come by at six, the latest at seven.

He sat at his usual spot, which is a table for two located in the middle of the room- a convenient place in front of the stage where he can get the best view of you performing. He crossed his legs, resting one over a firm knee; his gloved hand holding a glass of expensive alcohol while the other formed a fist to support his handsome face.

Oh if only you knew! If only you knew how much you've smitten him the first time you walked out through those curtains and out onto the stage; and when the lights shone down on you like a barrage of stars descending from the gods above, he could only stare in awe. Your confidence, your gait, your smile- it captured the man, and reminded him why beautiful things exist in this world. Eversince then, he'd make sure to come every night, tired and wounded but happy and exhilarated all the same. You were like a drug to him: It hurts more to stay away from you than to indulge and drink up the sight of you.

Throughout the performance, it was as though all the other people disappeared. Everybody vanished into fleeting wisps of mist, leaving the masked stranger alone with the spotlight shining on him. You serenaded him, pouring your heart out into the song as your body moved freely and featly, all for the man in front of you.

The song went on and on, quickly building to its finale and you savored the notes that remained: lingering, beautiful, and calming like the waves of an ocean. You can't deny the feeling of desire bubbling inside your chest, or the excited butterflies fluttering in your stomach whenever you saw him- how you wished he'd just take off that mask and talk to you, for not once has he ever stepped up and uttered a single word. The reminder left you feeling rather glum, and it became apparent in your voice. You saw his face frowning a bit and you gathered yourself together to pull off the last part of the song.