#tf2 tickles
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Ну, это последний рисунок, который я отправляю вам лично, конечно, я все равно буду рад вашим запросам, но они будут опубликованы в моем блоге. Я переделывал этого Heavy дважды, потому что первый получился не очень хорошо и я решил, что вы заслуживаете лучшего качества, я вложил в эту версию всю свою душу и свою благодарность вам. Надеюсь, это то, что вы хотели, в любом случае, я был рад это нарисовать. И это третья и заключительная часть комикса:3
The first thing I did was seeing this ask in my notifications and all I saw was text, so I didn't expect this to be a drawing and got so jumpscared but in the best possible way omg. Lee!Heavy! Madly ticklish on his tummy! Just the way I like this indeed! Everything about Medic's expression is exactly how I feel looking at it. I want that tummy tickled so bad mhmhmmhmh! Everything you put into this drawing 100% shows. Also, I'm so glad I found another lee!Heavy enjoyer.
I also can't help but thing that since Scout got left behind the door he hears all that and realized how close he was to dying being tickled. He freaking bolts. Overall, everything about this drawing makes me feel: 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤.
And I'm very glad you decided to start posting on your blog, like I said I will help if needed! I'm excited to see more of your drawings and posts and stuff, truly. And of course, let's adress the elephant in the room, you know Russian?? Aka Heavy's language? Hell yeah. When I tell you Heavy made me like this language so much 🤤.
Now draw Scout getting killed and/or hated/hj
#tf2 tickles#fluffee replies#this along with Scout being tickled by medic TOO are my favourite drawings you sent me 🤤#I love them dearly#ler!medic#lee!heavy
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That ain't a tickle fight, that is Soldier getting murdered
Can I get a small comic with solly and demo tickle fight <:3
I just love these two dumdums and they deserve to have a nice laugh after hours of fighting >u< (bonus points for feathers >:3)

Sorry, no feathers :")
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Вот и первый рисунок:D Here is the first drawing:D
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which merc you guys wanting to get wrecked? :3
Leave lee and ler pairs in the comments and i'll draw em! need to post again 💗
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Herbert??? More like zerberts *laugh track*
Ok i drew this w my fingers on my tablet and i was nervous asf
#zhe tickle art is back#medic tf2#heavy tf2#ler heavy#lee medic#sfw tickle community#non kink tickles#tf2 tickles#heavy medic#tf2 medic fanart
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The Mechanist's Quest: Chapter 2
A/N - I see Chapter 1 went well! Thank you all for giving it the love I had hoped for. This chapter is longer than the previous and will feature another one of our favorite support mercs: Spy. I based this chapter on a few headcanons and some art I have seen in the community. While I don't ship any of the mercs together (sans RedOktoberfest, that shit is canon let's be honest) I do love the parallels between Demo and Spy and would happily write a whole ass fic just exploring them with a similar dynamic I have here. Anyway, I'm rambling. I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 2,709
Days passed by and Pyro was starting to think this idea might be a bust. The two people they were trailing were the least sociable of the entire nine-man team, and for Pyro’s idea to work, they needed at least one other person to be around either Sniper or Spy. The two men were usually the first to hide away after a loss, not only because they wanted to be alone to sulk, but also to get away from Soldier.
Soldier always had critiques for those two, for everyone really, but he always seemed to really drill into those two whenever he could catch one of them. Sniper would just roll his eyes and walk off, hoping Soldier wouldn’t follow him like a dog begging for attention; while Spy would also try to ignore him, but when the losses stacked up, Spy would comment on how poor Soldier had been doing, which always ended up in an argument that would either be split up by someone else or Soldier suddenly appearing in the Respawn Room after Spy put a bullet between the American’s eyes.
Today was a good day, the midst of a winning streak for the team; the last three days they have been on fire, both figuratively and literally: Scout being the sacrifice to the BLU Pyro for each match. With the mood uplifted just a bit, the base buzzed with activity.
Whilst still not having luck with Sniper, Pyro lucked out with Spy being social that evening. After an hour in the smoking room, which Spy had just started expecting to see Pyro follow him in there at this point, Spy left to eat dinner with some of the others. Heavy made beef stroganoff, a favorite dish of Zhanna apparently, and a general favorite amongst the team, which could be shown by Engie being out of his workshop for more than two seconds to eat.
Pyro kept glancing at Engie, hoping to catch his eyes. Horrendous at distinguishing different forms of body language, Engie just smiled at the younger mercenary while trying to follow along with whatever Scout and Heavy were discussing. Acknowledging their loss, Pyro frowned and began to stare at Spy once again, as was the theme of the last week.
Once Pyro helped Soldier with the dishes, they quickly found Spy sitting on the couch, tired eyes attentively watching the movie he had just put on for himself. Despite being a man with refined tastes in film and drink, Soldier’s and Engie’s influences had rubbed off on Spy; thus, the man now had an interest and fondness for westerns. John Wayne would unironically grace the screen in front of the Frenchman more often than not anymore and nobody questioned it. Some of the films were inherently good and Spy did find amusement in the accent all the actors had. Having been exposed to Engie’s own southern drawl for as long as he had, Spy found that he could go through an entire film without mocking their ways of speech. If in a specific mood, Spy would go into the workshop after watching one of the movies and mimic the accent until Engie kicked him out; though the Texan had to admit that it was usually hilarious.
Plopping down into one of the armchairs next to the couch, Pyro tucked their legs up underneath them and watched along, occasionally glancing over at Spy to see his general reactions of the film. As John Wayne and James Stewart walked around on screen and monologued about sheriffs and Liberty Valance, Pyro imagined Sniper and Engie in all the scenes which made the movie much more enjoyable.
As John Wayne/Sniper rode his horse through town with a pistol in hand, the door into the room swung open and Demo stumbled into the room, bottle of Macallan in hand.
“There ye are,” Demo beamed, holding up the bottle as he closed the door, now no longer silhouetted by the outside light. Glancing up, Pyro could see Spy rolling his eyes but not give Demo the satisfaction of looking away from the screen. “Now c’mon, mate. Whatcha watchin’ one of these movies fer?”
Frown deepening, Spy bit the inside of his cheek to prevent him from saying something as Demo practically waltzed over to the couch and staggered onto the cushion next to Spy. Smile wide enough to brighten the room, Demo wrapped his arm around Spy’s shoulder and pulled him into a side hug, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder as he looked up at him; eyes wide with a playful curiosity that Spy was all too familiar with.
“No,” is all Spy said, feeling Demo’s tousled hair against his cheek, the black beanie he typically wore discarded long ago.
“I’ve nay said a single thing, mate. What’re ye saying nay to?” the man teased, sliding the hand from Spy’s shoulder down his back, eliciting a small shiver.
Amusement filled Pyro as they watched from their perch, with all interest on the film switching to the two men in front of them. They knew that Demo had a keen fascination with Spy, something to do with his stoicism or his ability to hold his liquor better than most of the men in the team. Pyro didn’t know what it was, but they sure enjoyed it whenever the two were together; the duo acting more like siblings than coworkers.
“We’re not watching it again,” huffed Spy, resenting his body as it slightly twitched beneath Demo’s touch, the offending hand finally meeting the hem of Spy’s jacket to find sanctuary between it and the white dress shirt.
“And why’s that?” Demo’s voice was sickeningly sweet, a cocktail with too much syrup and not enough gin.
“You know why,” hissed Spy, his tone darkening once he glanced back and noticed Pyro was still sitting there. Having made eye contact with him, Pyro quickly moved their head, so it looked like they had drawn their attention back to the movie, though through the mask, Pyro stared directly at the two men.
“I know yer just afraid,” Demo scoffed, his fingers gently scratching between Spy’s shoulder blades. “Aye. Ye know, I never took ye as one to be scared of a wee movie, mate. Ye acting like a wee laddie.”
“Am not,” Spy snapped, glad it was only Pyro in the room to watch this madness. Spy’s entire identity was professionalism, and he despised when he let others see that wall slip, even if it was just meaningless jesting from other merc. One on one, he was fine, but with Pyro here, Spy was glad he had the mask on, even in the darkness of the room.
“T’en why don’tcha wanna watch the movie with me?”
Spy knew this game well; a metaphorical standoff where they talk in circles until one of them give up. Just as a toddler would say “but why,” Demo was going to provoke Spy until he either left the room or replied with the desired answer. While Spy had avoided this phase with his own son as a toddler, he was cursed to endure it from the adult men he resided and worked with every day.
“I already told you,” Spy sighed, then let out a sharp gasp as Demo shifted around so he was wrapped around Spy. One leg hooked around his lower back and one around his waist, Demo leaned in, staring directly at the man with a devilish smile.
“An’ why’s that?” Demo emphasized the last ‘t,’ left hand sliding down Spy’s spine with a specific gentleness he reserved for only a few people, most of which he worked with.
“You know why,” the sternness of Spy’s voice was wavering, and in most other situations he would hate it.
“Do I now?”
Hand tugging at the tucked in dress shirt, Spy bit his lip to hold back the anticipatory anxiety from affecting his expression. Eyes staring at the screen, the character’s reflections shone off his blue-grey irises; though his ears were completely deaf to the words John Wayne was saying as he climbed his horse to ride off from one town to the next, just as Spy wished he could do in that very moment. Mind trying to focus on the movie, though the narrative lost at this point, all attempts to shift his concentration away from Demo’s calloused fingers grazing up his spine were being made.
“Mhm,” keeping his mouth closed, Spy nodded as his heart pounded.
“Use yer words.”
“Va te faire foutre.”
Pyro couldn’t help but laugh, absolutely loving the dialogue between the two.
Demo looked up at Pyro with an eyebrow cocked up, then dropped his eyes back down to Spy.
“Our wee firebug here seems to think yer funny,” Demo mused, his other hand dropping the bottle onto the floor with a thunk, both Pyro and Spy thankful that it had been empty this entire time. Hand now free, Demo used it to jab at Spy’s sternum in an accusatory fashion while the other hand drifted upward to finally still between the two shoulder blades, this time without anything blocking the skin-on-skin contact. “I have nae an idea what ye said, though I’m sure ye were being a proper prick. An’ ye know what that means?”
“Enculé,” Spy replied, looking Demo right in the eyes as he did whilst wearing a wide, unamused smile.
Biting down on their bottom lip, Pyro watched as Spy sealed his fate; throwing away the metaphorical key the moment Demo’s brows rose, lips twitching upward.
“That one, I do know,” Demo leaned forward, lips nearly grazing the fabric of the balaclava.
Biting back a strangled noise attempting to lurch out of his throat, Spy growled as he curled into himself; Demo’s frozen fingers now dethawed and gently scratching against the rarely touched skin. Breathing only out of his nose, Spy’s nostrils flared as he measured each inhale and exhale. Every neuron in his brain switched focus to just keeping his breathing even and his body under complete control, a statuesque stillness.
Excited by the prospect of a challenge, Demo’s free hand that was unconsciously gripping Spy’s shoulder made the move that Spy had hoped it wouldn’t. Slipping beneath the mask, each fingertip grazed Spy’s neck delicately, as if petting a small animal. Thumb on one side of the neck and the other four fingers on the other, Demo felt Spy swallow, his palm resting against the older man’s throat. Every micro-quiver of the vocal cords could be felt and Demo relished in the power he now held.
Knowing that Spy was an expert in resisting interrogation - his level of pain regulation and abilities to escape into his mind were exceptional - Demo also knew that Spy was allowing this engagement to occur as it was. If he had the slightest inclination to get away from Demo, Spy would have turned the tables faster than Demo could say “haggis,” with the younger man being pinned to the couch with a knife blade menacingly pressed against his throat. All actions here were calculated; all actions about to happen had full consent, and with it, Demo made his move.
Giddily, Spy felt the dam inside him cracking. With most anyone else to have ever graced his presence, Spy would have sealed it back up with super glue and duct tape, but Demo was not just anyone, nor were any of the others on the team, really. But Demo; Spy liked Demo a lot. He never really knew what it was; perhaps it was the level of control Demo had over his craft, in and out of the field, or it was a form of pity, that whilst Spy and Demo did not lead lives too dissimilar, Spy sees what he could have been if he let the bottle take over his life like it did the younger Scotsman. Perhaps it was the good that Demo saw in everyone he met despite living through hell in his childhood and having to experience the horrors of a capitalist war over and over again every day because he feels that he has to. Either or, Spy had a certain indescribable fondness for Demo which allowed him to experience playful moments he rarely remembered having as a child.
The second Demo’s dull nails arrived at their destination right behind Spy’s ear, the drawbridge lifted, and Spy’s laugh bubbled out from beneath.
Hands around the only one of Demo’s wrists he could reach, Spy tipped his head back; his laugh low at first before switching to a higher register as Demo’s fingers quickened in both places. Smile wide, Spy still tried to hold his laughter back just a smidge. He knew what Demo wanted, and he wasn’t too keen on giving it to him. As his laugh switched between two pitches, Spy scrunched his eyes shut and forgot that Pyro was in the room, and to Pyro’s credit, they had been entirely silent for a while, awestruck by the adorable noises seeping from Spy, a melody that they had never heard before.
“Someone’s bein’ stubborn, now aren’t ye?” Demo teased, radiating pure delight. Spy simply replied with a shake of the head, arching his back as those five fingers were giving him the most trouble.
Suddenly, as if bored of the positioning, Demo twisted them both around. Now on his back, Spy’s head laid against the arm of the couch as Demo’s larger body straddled his thighs. Devious grin adorned Demo’s face as he looked down at Spy, a cat satisfyingly looking down at its prey before delivering the killing bite.
“Adorable,” Demo thought before unbuttoning the front of dress shirt, playfully pretending to struggle with one of them which earned him a soft chuckle. The moment the final button was undone, Demo attacked.
“Merde!” Spy yelped, now fully laughing.
Demo had slunk forward so his arms were tucked beneath Spy’s body, snaking their way back up the shirt to drag his nails all along Spy’s shoulder blades and upper spine. Once in position, Demo pressed his face into Spy’s belly, nuzzling and blowing short raspberries all over his abdomen.
On top of Spy’s back being stupidly ticklish if caught off guard or permission is granted to touch the area, Demo’s facial hair was a straight up war crime, and the bastard knew it. As one of the resident hyperactive dumbasses, Demo used this knowledge for evil with a few of the mercs he was closest too. Soldier knew that getting into an argument with Demo could lead to a different kind of fight if the Scotsman was not in the mood or couldn’t use his words.
Heels digging into the couch the best they could, Spy frantically grabbed Demo’s broad shoulders and pushed; his laughter now hysterical and between every other peal of laughter was a snort, much to Demo’s and Pyro’s delight and Spy’s own chagrin. It was adorable and Pyro could not wait to write down every little detail they were seeing.
This activity may have been unusual to Pyro, but it was not too atypical for the duo. The movie he had been referring to earlier was Psycho and watching that movie with Spy was how he learned Spy was ticklish.
While the two watched the movie, Scout having left early on because he hated movies “without color because they suck,” Demo was hyping up the infamous shower scene. Both men had seen the film before, so knew when it was going to happen, but Spy had not anticipated Demo pretending to backstab him, just as Spy would do in the field, while the scene played out. The startled yelp and faint smile were enough of a catalyst for Demo to explore further. Now, if Demo was ever lucky enough to catch Spy watching something, jokingly begging Spy to watch Psycho became his running joke and way of hinting to Spy that he wanted attention.
Laughter clouded Spy’s thoughts and filled Demo’s ears as Pyro quietly got up, having got all the evidence they needed that their plan might work. Slinking out of the room, Pyro then scurried toward the offense wing to jot down all the notes they needed for their conversation with Engie tomorrow.
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🍉🍓🍎🍊🥝 - sneeper my husband
Thanks bestie
Sniper, also known as Snooper and Sneeper and also my kin
🍉Would you rather tickle/be tickled on the stomach or neck?
as a lee: tickled on the neck
as a ler: tickle the stomach
More about that below cause the asks are similar and I wrote this below first and I kinda said all I wanted about those there v
🍓Would you rather be given/give stomach raspberries or neck raspberries?
as a lee: both will kill him but neck raspberries. The mere thought of someone lifting his shirt just to blow raspberries on his tummy is too much. Neck raspberries it is. Joke on him cause those really tickle too and he can't do anything aside from raising his shoulders which does not help.
as a ler: having said all that he prefers giving tummy raspberries. There's something really intimate about showing his face into someone's neck plus it's not that an easy to get and properly tickle spot. Stomach however? Much bigger patch of skin, easier to get, easier to tickle.
🍎Would you rather give/get tickly kisses or nuzzles?
as a lee: nuzzles, kisses are juuuust too flustering. Like, really? Kissing him on all those different spots? And it tickles? Gah! Nuzzles are a bit easier for him to process and accept.
as a ler: nuzzles as well. He's not gonna kiss just anyone, he might if he's closer with his lee, but nuzzles? He doesn't have such boundaries about those, and I mean, he does have a pretty good stubble which will definitely help.
🍊Would you rather tickle/be tickled roughly or gently?
as a lee: he's gentle tickles kinda guy. Like, if he is to be embarassed like that and laugh himself silly he'd much rather it was gentle because then that laughter will not be as desperate along with his overall reactions. Plus, it's comforting.
as a ler: mmm I think he normally tickles somewhere in-between, but if he were to choose one of those it would be gentle tickles. Just tracing his fingers, squeezing here and there, poking, he's not losing energy, his lee is laughing anyway, it's perfect.
🥝Would you rather tickle/be tickled on the knees or armpits?
as a lee: on his armpits, easily. His knees are his worst spots so he's going to die if tickled there. His armpits compared to them are much less ticklish, so armpits it is.
as a ler: armpits too. He has that thing that when he tickles on the knees, knowing if it were him being tickled there he'd be in histerics, he just can't do it. And with armpits he can just sit on the lee's arms which are outstretched above their head and go to town, easy peasy lemon definitely squeezy.
He's kinda like Engie - flustered lee but a cheeky ler.
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HI! I come with a gift for @carnivorous-parasite
I’m your squealing Santa this year!! This is my first time participating in this event. Thank you for being my partner this year! :D
I also wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year🎄🎇
#sfw tickle community#tickle art#squealing santa 2k24#ss2k24#squealing santa#tf2 tickles#tf2 tickle#lee!spy#ler!sniper
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i was in a really bad lee mood so i drew lee snipers to cheer me up, enjoy the fooddd
i like to think he tries to act tough, but still ends up blushing and smiling <33
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LEESNIPER I REPEAT LEESNIPER AAAH-! I LOVE IT

В этот раз я решила поэкспериментировать с рисованием. Так как у меня не было идеи, я вдохновилась этим фанфиком-https://www.tumblr.com/fluffyenergee/781652420013015040/i-dunno-if-you-are-into-sniper-x-spy-but-i-have-a?source=share Надеюсь вам понравится:3
This time I decided to experiment with drawing. Since I had no idea, I was inspired by this fanfic-https://www.tumblr.com/fluffyenergee/781652420013015040/i-dunno-if-you-are-into-sniper-x-spy-but-i-have-a?source=share I hope you like it:3
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Sillies
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The Mechanist's Quest: Chapter 1
A/N - Hi! Sorry for the general delay of all my writings. I'm doing my PhD proposal at the moment and that clearly takes priority lol. I have been having that TF2 brainrot and have a million ideas for fics. Since you all mentioned that y'all prefer larger fics to be reduced to small chapters, this one will be! If y'all end up hating the chapter set up, I'll go back to how I was writing fics.
This is a TF2 fic centered around Pyro being tasked by Engie to learn more about certain team members. Please enjoy!
Word Count: 1,498
Pyro was on a mission; something difficult, albeit important. Granted, they had been assigned this mission as it was the Engineer who was really on a mission but was too busy in his workshop to complete this mission, thus Pyro was sent to complete it. Despite the convoluted complex confusion this caused in their brain, Pyro was still going to do whatever it took to get the job done.
The mission: find a way to subdue the three support team members.
Pyro did not need to subdue their own team members, of course not, that would be mean. However, they needed to get a good idea of different things that could affect them and cause them to do a poor job on the field. As the BLU Team were almost exact clones of everyone on the RED Team, shadowing the three men to find out how to make them tick couldn't be that difficult, at least not in Pyro’s mind.
For the last few weeks, the BLU Team had been kicking the absolute shit out of the RED Team, with most of their victories being the direct cause of one of the support members doing some crafty thinking and making power plays in the last few minutes of each round. Overall team morale was poor, with most of them dreading going out into the field each day just to think they might win, then be decimated at the very end. Not one to take losing well, Engie told the team he was going to develop a machine to change things up, assuring victory. However, he needed data, and he was not very good at this sort of data collection.
This is where Pyro came in. Pyro enjoyed spending time with people, with the team. They enjoyed learning about others, and unlike Engie in this situation, they were able to be subtle about it. That and with Pyro on the job, Engie was able to spend more time in his workshop sketching out various blueprints and fixing his current menagerie of sentries.
A few evenings after Engie gave Pyro their task, Pyro was walking back to their room for the night. The sun had set long ago and most of the other mercs were already in bed or at least hidden away in their rooms. Having spent a majority of the day with Spy, which meant they spent a majority of the day in the smoking room where the two of them lounged around and read all day, Pyro was exhausted.
It had been an abbreviated day in the field, with the RED Team’s defeat striking faster than normal; feeling almost as if the group had given up and accepted failure before they even arrived at the Badlands. Once the team returned to base, all nine of the men scattered, not looking at nor acknowledging any of the others. Except for Pyro.
Too mentally tired, Spy did not turn around and snap at Pyro when they heard them begin to follow him down the hall. At least, Spy had thought, Pyro wouldn’t try to be talkative. As he opened the door, Spy held it longer than normally, allowing the shorter pyrotechnics expert to walk under his arm and enter the room. Unceremoniously, Spy sat down in his chair with a huff, from both the mental toll of the losses and the physical toll they had on his body. Losses typically meant Spy had suffered; hard.
As he withdrew his pack of cigarettes, his grey eyes followed Pyro’s movements as they gazed up at the small library.
Mann Co. had supplied a fair number of books that catered to each mercs general interests and along with a couple books brought by some of the mercs, the team had gathered a small library, which grew every time Heavy or Soldier went out into town.
Gloved hand finally pausing on a particular novel, Pyro’s index finger pushed the book back into their grip. With almost a supernatural sense, Pyro spun around and quickly lit Spy’s cigarette before the man could withdraw the lighter from his pocket. Despite being startled by the action, Spy simply nodded and mouthed his appreciation as Pyro plopped down into the chair next to him.
While he wasn’t aware of Pyro’s mission, Spy was pleasantly surprised by Pyro’s companionship for the hours they spent reading. The plush chair beside Spy scarcely was occupied, and even more rare was the person sitting in it keeping quiet and actually reading. Sure, Heavy or Demo would occasionally make an appearance to read in the silence of the room, but more often than not, it was Scout or Medic that sat there, trying to push whatever narrative they had past Spy and earn his undivided attention. As such, a quiet evening beside Pyro was a gift.
Due to the general sense of peace, and a certain person’s gasmask, Spy did not notice nor visibly acknowledge Pyro’s occasionally staring. In their head, they had a list of extensive notes to write down later about Spy, though most of them had absolutely nothing to do with the mission. Apart from the chain smoking and the Ian Fleming novel in hand, Spy had given Pyro nothing to work with; so, once he rose from his chair with the notion of going back to his room, Pyro felt as if they may have just wasted hours with little data for Engie to work with.
Luck would favor our dear Pyro as while they were walking toward the exit of the support wing, a loud crash and yelp of exclamation emanated from behind the last door before the exit. Interest piqued, Pyro walked toward the Med Bay, figuring the doctor was still in there.
While each merc was given their own rooms, a few stayed unoccupied most of the year. Medic, Sniper, and Engie rarely used their own personal rooms; Sniper staying out in his campervan unless the outside temperature dropped below freezing, while Engie and Medic typically fell asleep while working on projects and paperwork. Pyro had walked into the workshop many times to see the engineer slumped over on his desk. Apart from the first few times they had caught him asleep, Pyro had gotten into the habit of gently picking the man up and placing him on the cot in the corner of the workshop that Soldier and Demo had been insistent on him having.
Door cracked open just a smidge, Pyro was able to peer into the room in search of the commotion. The room was dark, sans a single light in the corner, which was a bit unusual for Medic. Whenever Pyro would come in for an examine, the room was so bright it was headache inducing even through their goggles; so, the darkness was appreciated.
“Du musst aufhören!” the words were frantic, in a higher pitch than Pyro would normally hear Medic use when speaking his native tongue. “Heavy, dammit! Get off me! Nein!”
Silhouetted by the dim light, two figures sat atop the examination bed, intertwined as one. The smaller figure lay flat, limbs flailing with uncoordinated urgency. The larger figure sat atop the smaller, straddling them by the hips.
“Doktor needs his sleep,” the other person teased, voice gruffer yet tonally light. Pyro would recognize Heavy’s voice anywhere, even without Medic shouting his name earlier.
“No, I don’t,” Medic practically spat out as Heavy interjected the doctor’s words with his fingers. “Nein. Verdammt!”
While choking out his last words, Medic began to laugh, arching his back with his arms outstretched, weakly pushing at Heavy’s arms. Never able to form the words in any other language apart from his native tongue while being playfully attacked in this manner, Medic squeaked out a few threats in German, to which all fell upon deaf ears.
In the recent months, Heavy had been finding Medic falling asleep in the middle of an experiment more than once. Just like Engie, the doctor kept finding himself busy with all sorts of work. While most of the team had absolutely no idea what he was doing, or if it was even important as he kept saying it was, they mostly left him alone to do his work. Heavy, however, knew that he needed rest and that falling asleep while standing up and covered in shark intestines was not restful. After what felt like forever, Heavy finally found a method to get Medic to go to bed.
Pyro’s eyes lit up as they watched the scene play out in front of them, a giddy smile spread across their face underneath the mask. As they watched Heavy’s fingers glide across Medic’s belly, the cacophony of Medic’s hysterical laughter filled the room and their ears. Not only was this one of the cutest things Pyro had ever seen, but this gave them a brilliant idea. As the light bulb appeared above Pyro’s head, they scampered out of the room to head to bed.
Pyro had some planning to do.
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(ordering like I'm in a drive thru) uhhhh can I get the uhhhh number five prompt...and uhhhh lemme get the...lemme get uh...can I get engineer absolutely destroying spy?
"Please, that is not even slightly original or funny for that matter."
Cigarette smoke curled around Spy and Engineer as the former observed one of the drawings on Engineer's cork board. Scout's drawing. Of Spy. And a frog with an exaggerated moustache. The two were kissing, the French flag drew proudly above them.
"You'd think at some point he'd get bored of drawing the same thing."
"Aw, c'mon," Engie spoke with barely contained amusement, if he was even trying, "let the boyo have a hobby. I like those, make workin' here easier. Ya gotta admit it's amusin'."
"Hardly."
"Not even gonna let out a small chuckle for me? Won't tell anyone, Texan's promise."
"I only "chuckle" when killing people by myself." Spy rolled his eyes. "This is real amusement, you should try it sometimes, laborer," As always, he emphasized the last word.
"Oh yeah? Well, ya should try laughin' more often. Could make others more willin' to interact with ya and maybe then you'd be less grouchy."
"In that case I definitely won't try it."
Spy knew Engineer would take that as a challenge. And he'd definitely enjoy the other try fruitlessly. Or so he thought.
“So, ya won't laugh no matter what?" Engineer circled to behind his companion. "Even if I do this…?” He put his hands on Spy's sides.
Spy barely flinched, but still enough for Engineer to feel it. To his credit, however, everything else about his body language remained intact.
"Engineer, take your dirty hands off of me," Spy scoffed. "Whatever it is you're planning it's a waste of time."
"Then it's good I have time to spare right now."
Spy gritted his cigarette when feeling a squeeze on his sides.
"Engineer-!"
"Nah."
Engie quickly took off both of his gloves and crawled one of his hands under Spy's clothes to wiggle at his tummy, while the gunslinger held onto Spy's hip, squeezing every now and then.
To Spy's absolute horror, this resulted in a snort escaping his lips.
"Aw, so ya can laugh!" Engie teased.
"T-That… wasn't a-a laugH!" Spy sputtered, his shaking hands moving to grab Engie's wrists. "Stop… it!" He was trying his best to keep his voice steady, really, he was, but it was impossible to feign lack of reaction in this situation.
"Guess that's true," Engineer agreed before his second hand also dived to tickle Spy's stomach, both of them accelerating now. "So maybe now?"
"Khh… ngh- AGH!" Spy was trembling like a leaf in the wind, the corners of his lips moving upwards but not quite there yet. "C-Cease that… now!" He felt laughter bubbling in his throat but managed to bite his lower lip just in time. Barely…
"Why? Ticklish? Didn't take ya for the type, good to know."
Spy wasn't entirely sure what the plan was, but even he had to admit thinking was hard in this situation, even if just to himself back in the back of mind that he would later deny. And then, when Engineer really started scratching at his stomach, causing his back to arch, he couldn't stop himself from cloaking.
"Oh? Well, that ain't gonna help." Engie chuckled in amusement as he now tickled seemingly nothing. "Gotcha trapped in my arms, spook." With that he decided that it was enough teasing. It was time to make Spy lose all his fancy schmancy flare.
With his hands still working under Spy's clothes he dragged the invisible mercenary to the chair, forced him to sit on it, and Engie himself? Straddled Spy's lap and tickled aggressively all over his tummy and sides.
Whoosh.
"AAAHAHAHAAH!" Spy returned to view with a vengeance.
"There ya are!" Engie cheered with exaggerated joy. "Well, would ya look at that. You can laugh just fine."
Now he just needed to make sure Spy had no chance of denying it. His hands scratched higher, now teasing his ribs, while he moved his face to Spy's neck, moved his balaclava up with his nose, and blew a raspberry.
Pffft!
"GAHAHAHAHA! BWAHAHAHA! E-ENGINEER!" Spy threw his head back while his mind scrambled for ideas to free himself and make sure absolutely no one found out about this. All he came up with however was to 1) hope it was a dream 2) push at Engineer with his hands. It didn't accomplish much.
Another raspberry.
"NAHAHAHA! I OHOHOHORDER YOU TO STOHOHOP!" Another snort when Engineer dug his fingers between Spy's ribs.
"Hmmm, let me think." Engineer hummed before blowing another raspberry. "Nah. You're laughin', that's good, told ya you could."
"MERDE-!" Spy hiccupped with laughter and threw his arm across his suspiciously wet eyes.
Engineer immediately took his chance and while the gunslinger remained taking care of those ticklish ribs his other hand moved to the outstretched armpit.
Spy positively screamed.
"KHAAAAA! BWAHAHAHA, N-NON!" His arm flew to his side but that only trapped Engie's hand under in his armpit which he eagerly utilized. Then, to Engineer's utter delight, Spy begged, "P-PLEHEHEHEASE, YOU PROHOHOHOVED YOUR POINT! STOHOHOHOP!"
"Oh, I'm never lettin' ya forget that." He smiled mischievously, his hands not stopping for even a second, his lips waiting close to Spy's neck.
"ENGINEER!"
"Yer awful cute like that, I can see you blushing even through that mask."
That was bad enough, but Spy could feel the blush spreading down his face. It was only a matter of time before it would be seen on his neck. Still, he was too busy writhing with laughter to fully comprehend that.
Even though Spy did admit that Engineer was right, that he could laugh, and indirectly to being ticklish, not that any admission was needed at this point, Engie didn't stop. Spy really was too cute like that.
Not a bad way of spending the afternoon, not bad at all.
-----------
You know, when I said I would write drabbles I meant that, as in 300 - 500 words or something like that, but so far all of those are coming out closer to 1000 words.
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I'M SO HAPPY YOU STARTED A BLOOOG!
SO! i would like to request some lee pyro... :3c (I'm a huge fan of them >w<). a little scenario is that Dell holds pyro like a guitar with their arms up as the other hand tickles the tummy, pretending to play a tune. If you're in the mood ya can also add few teases of your choice >:]

Я просто обожаю динамику их отношений, поэтому рисовать их одно удовольствие. Надеюсь, вам понравится:3 К сожалению, я заболела и на время прекращу процесс( И еще хочу сказать огромное спасибо за такую активность, я не ожидала, что рисунок наберет столько актива:D
I just love the dynamics of their relationship, so drawing them is a pleasure. I hope you like it:3 Unfortunately, I got sick and will stop the process for a while( And I also want to say a huge thank you for such activity, I did not expect that the drawing would gain so much activity:D
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Pyro engie tickle fight? :3c
They give me papa and son relationship


(Ps: sfms are not mine, I just putted then here for an example -w-)
YOOOOO I LOVE ASKS A LOT! 0V0
it's hard to get back to old graphic tablet😭
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Hi, spookie!...Do you have some headcanons about ler!Medic? 🥺👉👈 i love him sm
Ofc! Doing lots of post today hehe
I feel like he'd do the tickle checkups, You know? Like the broken rib stuff.
I Love medic as a ler because hes so Strong, Like he could just hold you with one hand and tickle you like crazy ^^
He loves targeting the ribs, hips, And Tummy. Usually because he can get away with it, Unless its spy getting tickled by him... He will definitely not be coming back.
He'd probably pick up feathers that Archimedes Sheds And clean them just to tickle people 💗
He loves tickling Heavy, He'll pretend to cuddle with him just to end up trying to tickle his tummy (It never works he ends up getting wrecked instead.)
His favorite people to annoy with tickles are Spy, Scout, And sniper. He loves how spy snorts when he laughs, It makes Medic Himself laugh
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