TF2 x Reader Oneshots

CBS X Reader (Lime)

I wanna write about the guy- cuz you know, it's been awhile. So I'm planning on writing two CBS stories, the first one (this) will be lime: mature scenes are mentioned but nothing too explicit. The second one after this will be fun pure fluff.

Anyhow, this is the story, hope y'all enjoy loves. :*

You slammed your rusty locker door shut after placing all of the needed weapons and supplies for another grueling battle tomorrow. Going out of the respawn room, you headed towards your quarters upstairs and ignored the weird looks you were getting from the rest of the team.

Was there something on your face? Well, as a matter of fact, there was: A wide beautiful smile that spread ear to ear. One would think that someone who'd just come out of a bloody, tiresome war would immediately scowl and snap at everybody. But not you; nothing seemed to deter that smile of yours- heck even the fatal wound on your side that Medic had previously patched up awhile ago felt as though it was nothing more than a trivial mosquito bite.

So what could possibly place you in this good of a mood? Well, first of all, a proper question is in order. Who is placing you in this good mood?

Was it Scout?

Engineer?

Maybe Sniper?

Close, but not exactly.

You opened your door, which gave a small creaky squeak, and went in with a huff, the fatigue caused by today finally starting to catch up to you.

"Tsk. Ya really made me wait sheila," came a deep, raspy voice from the corner where your now open window was set. "And here I thought ya were a good girl- punctual and all that crap."

You broadened your smile and flashed those pearly whites,your excitement too much to contain at the sight of the dark yet familiar silhouette leaning against the wooden window sill.
"Christian..."

With a jump, the man tore himself away from the shadows as the light of the moon shone down on his form, tracing every contour, every curve of his thin but muscular body. It emphasized the man in a way that fit him perfectly: rugged and dangerous.

"Whattya say we start the fun, hm sheila?" he purred deeply, taking huge strides towards you as he wandered his crimson eyes all over your smaller body. "I can tell ya need it."

Christian played with a lock of your hair, twirling it around a lanky finger as he licked his lips in anticipation. You bit your lip and hoped that you weren't too sloppy from the battle. He on the other hand couldn't care at all if he looked like some wandering hobo with all the dust and dirt on his clothes and skin. Fortunately, you didn't mind; he has always been like this since the first time you met him and gradually, it has grown on you.

He was red and black altogether; from his hat to his pants down to his shoes, haphazardly discarded every night and thrown on the floor in tattered, neglected remains or at the very least, a broken button.

Strong, dexterous hands then hold you tight and harshly push you down onto the mattress. There, he'd hurriedly remove your clothing and work you with nothing but his broad fingers, making you cry his name out time and time again in strangled, muffled moans.

His dark unkempt beard tickled your skin whenever he'd bury his head on the side of your sensitive neck, where he places small bitemarks and hickeys that you so desperately kept trying to hide from the others. After that, he'd settle himself between your legs and lap you up greedily, the bristly tuft on his chin stimulating you harder with each move he makes.

"Christian..." you gasped breathlessly, curling your shaking fingers in his ebony hair as he continued torturing you.

"That's right baby," he growled, crawling on top of you, "just say my name."