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Sniper wakes up with a bad case of amnesia, and is just socially awkward enough to not do the sane thing and just tell people he doesn't know who they are, or who he is. Learning about his coworkers and the job they do via context clues doesn't make his situation any better, because hes pretty sure if word gets out that he has amnesia, that Medic guy will not hesitate to cut his head open.
Surely making a polite request of the enemy Spy is the more reasonable thing to do?
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After an incident that leaves the BLU team in shambles, Sniper has no choice but to deal with the changes. Adaptation doesn't come easy, especially when the enemy spy takes a liking to you.
!!NOT ABANDONED! Restructuring future chapters!!
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“You've got to be kidding me.”“Do you greet all your guests like this?” the sharp dresser in blue coyly replied, not turning away from the balcony's view. He took an inhale of his cigarette with no intention of going anywhere. Sniper held his tongue. He wanted to spit out an insult, to throw him off the ledge, but didn't.
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Why bother waiting when your dream partner’s already dating you? by marybay
Fandoms: Team Fortress 2
22 Mar 2026
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A quick work showing how poorly Mick Mundy handles emotions, the bigger the worse, and how good Scout is at tolerating his lover’s emotional intelligence, or lack thereof.
Series
- Part 3 of TF2 Scout/Sniper
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Naturally, when a member of the Red team goes missing for a week, the others worry about him.
And of course, they get especially worried when their loudest and most rambunctious team member comes back utterly silent and antisocial.
No one is more upset however, than his boyfriend.or
Blu Medic nukes Red Scout's brain and the rest of Red are forced to pick up the pieces.
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It's not very professional to fall in love with your enemy.
A documentation of the developing relationship between the RED Sniper and BLU Spy, from enemies, to drinking buddies, to lovers and back again. -
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It never fails to make him hard. The knife sliding into unsuspecting flesh, blood bubbling forth from the fresh wound and pooling as he slices the sharp blade oh so delicately through sensitive nerves that would surely be permanently damaged if not for respawn or Medic.
It never fails to make him hard.
It also infuriates him.
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“Wouldn't trust ya to not stab me dead when I am talking to ya.” Sniper tightened the grip on his wrist, the blade drawing more blood from his palm.
Spy grimaced slightly, as the other clearly forgot to brush his teeth this morning. Fitting for the rabid dog comparison. “My, who knew someone like you could be capable of making such an acute observation. I am truly impressed.” He didn't break eye contact as he wriggled his right arm a little, one of his concealed blades sliding out of the sleeve and into his palm.
“I'll only say this once now, snake. I am a professional, and I aim for ya bloody forehead. Makes death nice and easy. But if you want to act like a little sadist, then I'll aim for ya knees or guts and leave ya there to crawl to your doc every time I see ya. You got all that, cunt?”
“But of course, mon chéri."
NOTE: This work is a version of a F/F genderbent fic I started writing first. They're almost the same besides gender, so pick according to your preference.
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About half a year following the events of 'Running Blind', Scout makes good on his offer to bring Sniper to visit his family in Boston during the holidays. Sniper agrees, and family shenanigans ensue.
Things end up going about as well as they usually do for Scout.
[Will contain many references to concepts detailed in Running Blind, so it's suggested to read that before diving into this one.]
Series
- Part 5 of Running Blind
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After an argument about each other's performance on the battlefield, Sniper takes a risk with Scout and they end up in a messy, secretive affair.
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After killing Shroud weeks of insomnia plague Robert until he’s forced to the one man who might be able to help.
He never intended to wake up every morning in Flambae’s bed, or to bring his minimalistic belongings over to his apartment.
But sharing a bed didn’t have to mean anything more than a friendship.Robert didn’t know if he wanted it to.
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Slow burn between Robert and Flambae, featuring relationships with the Z-team and the repercussions on Robert from killing Shroud.
Updates when I can!! (Maybe weekly)
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On Friday, Blonde Blazer found a new sucker to try (and fail) to wrangle the infamous Z-Team at SDN's Torrance location. On Friday, they all bet he'd be gone by Monday. On Monday, he showed up. On Tuesday, he showed up again. On Wednesday, they got to put a face to the voice.
He was the most basic and boring man he’d ever seen in his life. Average height, average brown hair cut into an average look, with big doe eyes and even bigger bags underneath them, a freckled face supported by a frame so thin and frail looking a soft breeze might knock him on his ass. All in all, he was entirely unremarkable in any and every way. Kind of cute, but in the same way a malnourished puppy covered in mud on the side of the road was cute.
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When Mecha Man Astral died, his legacy died with him, his murder never solved, his son left behind, and his Astral Pulse never seen again.
Fifteen years later, Robert Robertson III, working under the name Mecha, is still chasing down leads on his missing birthright. Leads that always end up turning up nothing. After his latest failure to locate the Astral Pulse, Shroud gives Robert a new mission: infiltrate the SDN as a dispatcher. A laughably simple job.
Well it would be, if he could keep his eyes off of Flambae for five fucking minutes.
The closer they're drawn to one another, the harder Robert's inevitable betrayal will be. For both of them.
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Robert's sexual frustration is palpable, enough to make it the entire Z-Team's problem, and Flambae's stuck trying to figure out how to fix it.
It can't be that hard, right...?
Or:
Robert and Flambae are both fucking whipped and everybody knows except them.
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Rarely does Robert ever get a moment of time to think. Rarely does he let himself. Because he knows the moment the noise quiets and the lights are dim that his mind will race. It will remember. And yet, when the memories resurface, they don’t hurt as bad as they used to.
Or; 5 times Chad speaks to Robert in his native language + 1 time Robert speaks to Chad in his native language.
(Or actually: 5 times Robert is forced to do domestic activities + 1 time he returns the favor)
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A failed mission later, Flambae loses his powers.
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One of the main characters - the only surviving witness to a murder - has just woken from a coma. Not only is she entirely cognizant, but the first thing that the subtitles say she asks for is a lawyer.
“What are you fucking giggling about?”
The other person that’s been paying attention is Flambae. He’s right next to Robert on the couch, his arm slung over the top behind his head. One foot is propped up on the other knee, also pointing towards Robert, which has him caged in the corner by the arm rest. It’s probably some fucked-up power move. Robert has been ignoring it just to spite him.
“It’s just not how comas work,” Robert shrugs.
“Right, and you know because you’re a fucking doctor,” Flambae quips back.
“I know because I was in one, asshole.”
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During a quiet night in, Robert realizes that his coma and injuries aren't common knowledge among Z-Team.
Most of them take the information in stride with jokes aplenty.
Flambae does not.
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Waking up with a headache was nothing new to Robert, but he hasn’t grown up to be a fan of it yet. Stretching in his plastic chair and pressing his knuckles against the area between his eyebrows eases the pain, soothing it from a sharp one to a dull, more in the background one, giving Robert a chance to stand up and feel the blood flow try it best to keep him from swaying.
The bathroom lights blind Robert for a brief second when he turns them on, regretting his choice to do so when he is greeted by his reflection in the mirror.
If Robert has issues that go above what he can, or wants to, work through by himself, will they take him down or will someone finally snap him out of it?
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What if Golem wasn't quick enough to save Robert from Flambae?
CONTENT WARNING: Includes violence, gore/injury, intense fear, trauma/PTSD, swearing, some sexual situations, and graphic sex.[COMPLETE]
[Spoilers for Dispatch] -
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Robert Robertson the 3rd learns what it means to be cared for, and to care for himself while slowly realizing he's developing feelings for a certain somebody.
WARNING: Smut contained to chapter 9, chapter can be skipped.
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My hands are not clean (they can still carry you home) by Arcturus_Ish
Fandoms: Dispatch (Video Game)
30 Nov 2025
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The thing about plastic chairs is that they weren't a great substitute for an actual bed; the other thing is, Robert can't exactly afford to be picky and even if he 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 the internal debate is still ongoing as to whether or not he deserves a mattress at this current point in his life.
So, the plastic chair stays and is staying for the foreseeable future. Besides, it's charming - in a depressing, minimalism-that-is-totally-not-a-reflection-of-his-inner-sense-of-worth way.
Or:The fic where Robert has chronic pain and Flambae has warm hands. The two of them will figure out what to do about that eventually, right?