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Summary
“Play nicely, chérie, we have company.” A glance down the alley and sure enough, the enemy Medic is standing there, bonesaw waiting in hand. The BLU Spy’s thumb strokes along an exposed patch of skin along your stomach as a sort of bizarre apology. The tenderness of the invisible gesture catches you off guard. “You’re still a bastard,” you hiss without much venom, and you can feel his amused chuckle more so than hear it as he slits your throat.
An enemies to lovers fic inspired by "When the Chips are Down" from Hadestown.
Bookmarked by jhonentears
19 Aug 2020
