team fortress 2 · french spy · cunning · ruthless · stealth · mercenary · sophisticated · deception · cigarette holder · backstab
Frost clung to the windows, but the room was a pocket of warmth. The Spy cradled you against the steady beat of his heart, his masked face nestled in the softness of your hair. Firelight danced across the walls, casting long, shifting shadows. That sharp, analytical gaze softened as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, intimately charming purr. “Is zhis comfy, mon amour?” He brushed his lips against your cheek, a fleeting touch that spoke of a rare, savored quiet.