#flamebringer x reader

now, while in theory, he understands your duality perfectly — practically? he's often at a loss. there've hardly been people who've stuck by his side for so long — especially warriors like you. but you're with him, there, beaming in a gardening apron as if two weeks prior you haven't debilitated an entire troop. there's understanding between both of you — but also confusion, especially in regards to how you should treat one another.

it's almost clumsy, juvenile on his part — there is hardly one that he stood so close with, after all, so he was never able to experience it. it makes sense, but from an outsider's perspective it is rather comedic due to how uncharacteristic he is. compliments (outside of those made to your battle prowess) and displays of affection, while being honest, sound almost awkward and regurgitated coming from him — with responses alike.

when in his element, meaning battle, he articulates himself much more smoothly, although subtly. as he is a man of few words, most of his expressions are through action. flamebringer trusts you enough to turn his back to you, enough to believe that you'll parry the deadly blows that he can't defend against. you best believe that he, too, will shield you with his blades. on the line of life and death, love and passion are most earnest. that he trusts you with his weakness, and that he would stand against your fate of death — it means much more than any words can express when you think about it, and considering his philosophies.

normally he'd say that teamwork is detrimental to one's performance, robbing you of your inner instinct, but can that be said when your teamwork is instinctual in itself? a disorderly harmony. he's become accustomed to your style and your presence and hell, he could very well predict your next move. even if both of you operate apart from one another, with your own commandments, there is an always an agreement between you — you receive a common goal, and you will execute it by your own means. a deadly union!

flamebringer knows both sides of you — and it'd pain him, truly, for if you perished in battle, he wouldn't come back home to the second you, either. and that, too, inspires him — while his fate is bleak and yours is too, your hands dyed in blood that can't be washed away, he would fight for another day if it means you'll be there, behind the line of the battlefield. life is a flicker, that's what he thinks — but for you, he'll fight just for a little longer.

───── final note: hg please give this man more lore. his files are so fuckign cool and leave room for so many cool things it’s such a pity to leave him in the dust. anyway do you think flamebringer would like plants versus zombies

Blood always tasted sweeter when it was spilled upon the barren lands of a battlefield. The way it flooded from the red viscera of cut open bodies belonging to sinners long since persecuted for their sins — like a beautiful scarlet bloom — was horribly fascinating. This graphic revelation was one of many spoken to you by that fiery sarkaz operator, his sharp eyes piercing into your sockets as he leaned in far too close for comfort.

Flamebringer was always something of an adrenaline junkie, high off of the thrill that the battlefield intoxicated him with. Crescent-like grin contrasting his gore-smeared face as he slashed through body after body, leaving nothing but ruin in his wake. Even after the battle had finished, the adrenaline continued to pump through him like blood through veins and kept him full of a rather... unconventional form of excitement. He made that very clear each time he cornered you in your office, pupils blown wide as he pressed the entirety of his body weight against you.

It's why you've begun letting him touch you and please you in ways that shouldn't even be happening.

Flamebringer's intensity is something you've grown admittedly accustomed to, even if you should probably be more cautious around the man who could kill you ten times over and more. But dear god, would it kill him to at least try to lessen down the downright murderous vibes he always had? You'd be an idiot to not pick up his burning stares as you casually converse with the operators that he seems less than pleased to see. Particularly, the head of Karlan Trade, Enciodes Silverash. The sarkaz had snorted when you had referred to him by his first name rather than his code name when you'd brought up the Feline in passing conversation. Well, he was one of your more VIP operators, and he had signed a contract with Rhodes Island despite it offering him nothing—

"Got someone else on your mind?" The look in Flamebringer's eyes is borderline venomous as he sneers, pushing his hips forward with a particularly deep thrust that leaves you sobbing harder. He knows how impossibly big he is, knows how his dick overwhelms you far more than your workload ever could, and he loves it. He loves knowing that he could easily render you into a stupid mess by just shoving his dick in. "How cruel, Doctor. Thought we could spend some quality time together, and you're thinking about somebody else."

"Th..that's not—" You're cut off by an intense wave of pleasure that burns through your skin and the familiar sensation of being filled with sticky warmth. His calloused hands grip the back of your knees to the point of cutting off the circulation, flexing and squeezing as he draws out his orgasm for as long as he possibly can. It's always like this; Flamebringer mustering up his strength to snap his hips against yours whenever he'd orgasm, and the force alone makes you cum as well, though much more intense than him. You're sure he does it on purpose just to see you stupefied beneath him, but it feels really good, so you aren't complaining too much.

But even through the blistering haze of yours and his simultaneous orgasm, you can feel the tickle of his black locks and the jagged scratch of his horn against the side of your face. He's slumped over on top of you, sucking in deep breaths as his hands let go of your legs and come to rest at your sides, leaving your legs dangling uselessly at the sides of his hips. But he hasn't stopped thrusting, hips still moving and sliding and his voice murmuring unintelligible hums.

"Mine." It starts out as a hoarse whisper fanning across your bruised skin, but soon his voice intensifies into a snarled chant that nearly burns away the flesh of your ear from its intensity. Each thrust punctuates his words with purpose, as if trying to carve himself into your aching walls so that no other but him could ever satisfy you. "Mine, Mine, Mine, Mine, Mine."

"You're all mine." His crazed and searing eyes meet yours, though you're too dazed to even look at him properly — the shape of his body muddled by the tears that have glazed over your eyes, though that seems to excite him more. "None of those bastards are ever going to fuck you like I can. You got that? I'll fuck you until you can get that past that thick skull of yours if I have to."

He doesn't even give you a chance to respond before he seals his lips upon yours, stealing away your breath and any possible refute.

His tongue running over his lips before they broke into an arrogantly toothy grin, Flamebringer drank in the sight of you sprawled before him on your hands and knees--your clothes torn by the work of his hands, the flush heat on your ass after a string of slaps and squeezes, the drooling mess of your core as he continued to spear you full with his cock.

He just had to laugh.

Every operator that got held back at the base panicked at the sight of their bloody, unconscious doctor, who was immediately taken to the infirmary where he worked to find a cure for Oripathy, but only had a treatment for the symptoms of it so far.

Hoshiguma walked in and gently but quickly laid him down on the bed, backing away to let the Medics do their jobs. Pretty much every healer under the doctor's command was there, making sure everything was clean and disinfected before proceeding with surgery to extract the bullet.

Outside the room, Flamebringer had just woken up due to all the noise, with a frown he approached the group of operators outside of the doctor's infirmary, everyone there was quiet, with empty looks on their faces and those who came back from the battle were still dirty and beat up.

Curious about who had gotten themselves badly injured, he peeked through the glass window in the hallway, only to stare in shock as he saw (M/n), his lover, laying on the hospital bed, unconscious and bleeding.

Flamebringer turned pale, his knees giving out and falling to the floor getting the attention of a few operators around him. His head was tilted down, hiding his fear and concern from prying eyes, but his sight was getting blurry as the seconds passed, soon covering his face with his hands and crying quietly, holding in his sobs even if that made it hard for him to breathe.

He ignored anyone that tried to talk to him, and just sat there on the cold metal floor, waiting for the Medics to be done so he could be with him.

After what felt like a whole day, one after one, the healers started walking out, letting out deep sighs and glancing back before walking out, those reactions made Flamebringer feel uneasy, so he stood up with shaky, numb legs, and held Ansel's wrist when he walked out.

"Is he... okay?" He struggled to ask, unsure of how to phrase it, but the shorter male seemed to understand him.

"Doctor is still unconscious, we extracted the bullet and disinfected his wound, but he hit his head on the pavement and his skull suffered some cracks," he explained standing next to Flamebringer, looking through the glass how Kal'tsit finished up some things, "We had to sew the wound on his head, and do a blood transfusion since he lost a lot of blood, but... he should be okay, it might take him a couple of days before he wakes up."

Nodding in silence, Flamebringer let Ansel go, and he walked to the door, observing as Kal'tsit picked up the dirty, bloody, and torn clothes from the floor, putting them in a paper bag to get rid of them. She got sight of the male by the door, and she signaled toward the stool on the right side of (M/n)'s bed.

"You can sit there," hesitantly walking in, Flamebringer fixed the stool and sat down, reaching his shaking hands to hold onto (M/n)'s, feeling his tears clouding his sight again when he saw up close the state of his lover.

Kal'tsit walked out of the room and reached for the door to close it, but she stopped for a second, "Make sure you eat something if you're gonna stay the night, alright?" Mindlessly nodding, Flamebringer leaned down to press his forehead on (M/n)'s thigh, turning his head to look at (M/n)'s face.

And eventually, he ended up falling asleep.

///////

For the next following days, Flamebringer was on edge. There were times when (M/n) would wake up for a few seconds before falling unconscious again.

He wanted to be there every hour of every day, but Reunion was still hot on their tail, causing him and other operators to leave and battle, leaving (M/n) under the care of healers, whether they were medics or not. His friends would usually stop by and talk to him, letting him know everything that had been happening, usually things involving funny times.

Every operator from Kjerag visited him, since (M/n) was a close friend of Silverash and Gnosis. Rhine Lab came by too, but Ifrit couldn't stay for too long since she got irritated easily. Laterano and Iberia operators too came by and stayed with him.

But every night, Flamebringer was the only one there, usually after Kal'tsit or Shining came by to check on the doctor's wounds and condition. He was slowly going insane, staying awake day and night just in case (M/n) would, miraculously, wake up, sometimes being forced to rest and other times just passing out from exhaustion.

He couldn't understand why (M/n) wouldn't wake up, he was stable and his wounds were healing properly so why...?

Why hasn't he woken up yet?

With tears wetting his cheeks, Flamebringer held tightly onto (M/n)'s hand, silently praying that he would wake up, and in the midst of his pleads, he passed out.

The next morning, feeling his eyelids as heavy as cinder blocks, (M/n) opened his eyes and looked around, seeing Kal'tsit replacing his IV.

"Oh, look who finally woke up," she said with a sarcastic tone, but the small smile on her face showed her relief. (M/n) felt ich on his face, so he tried to lift his hand up to scratch his cheek, but something was holding it. Glancing down, he saw his lover sleeping on his hand, an obvious trail of dried tears on his face, "He passed out last night after I left, he's been keeping an eye on you, waiting for you to wake up."

His heart fluttered at the words, feeling loved and a bit guilty for making Flamebringer wear himself out like that.

"Alright, I'll be giving out the news that you're awake, so get ready for the room to fill up," he nodded, slowly moving his hand enough to gently caress his lover's cheek, who started waking up, his eyes opened and he seemed alive again once he realized (M/n) was awake.

"Baby!" He exclaimed getting up from his sit, getting closer to kiss him, "You're awake...!"

Smiling, (M/n) wiped the tears falling down Flamebringer's face, the male leaning closer to his warm touch, "I'm back," he whispered, bringing him closer to kiss him again.

Extended Ending

By the time everyone walked into the room (M/n) was in, they caught sight of Flamebringer sleeping on top of the doctor, the calmest and most relaxed expression they'd seen on his face for the past weeks.

he's the type of boyfriend who would use you as his personal armrest, but if someone else tries it, he swings at them then acts like he didn't just try to start a fight. honestly the man is so unpredictable but i'm pretty sure he'd be less of a menace to you at the very least, letting you fall asleep on his admittedly comfy chest without voicing a complaint once. and good luck trying to pry him off of you when he's fallen asleep on you, bc that man has an absolute death grip and he's not gonna let go anytime soon.

flamebringer can and will fuck you into oblivion, his calloused hands tightly gripping your waist as he slams himself against your backside over and over. his cock spreads you open far wider than what could be considered normal, reaching so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. each brutish thrust pricks at nerves that have you sobbing and babbling stupidly, erasing any figments of thoughts or cares. there's nothing to ground you, nothing to think of but the way flamebringer fucks you into the mattress until he finally cums, painting your insides white with thick creamy globs. but just once isn't enough to satisfy him — the sarkaz needs the entirety of rhodes island to know who's fucking you this good. he won't stop until his stamina has run out and he's emptied his heavy balls into you, even if you're beyond exhausted by that point.

the hickies and deep bites he leaves behind are the type that stand out like a sore thumb and take weeks to heal up entirely. all the makeup in the world can't hide the indents of his teeth against your collarbone, or the love bites decorating the sides of your neck. and that doesn't even begin to account for the mess he made on the rest of your body. his bites tear deep enough to draw blood, the pain triggering fat tears to stain your cheeks, and he watches with a primal sort of hunger when he watches you sob like that. it's gotten to the point where you've begun to become terribly aroused by the searing pain, your mind so fogged that you can only focus on the painful pleasure that flamebringer delivers. and all of it is done with a purpose, since he's got such a nasty possessive streak on him, smug arrogance filling his chest when he watches you make a feeble, and admittedly pathetically adorable, attempt at walking after he'd just finished blowing out your backside.

flamebringer's strength is the source of his fiery pride, especially since he can use it to his advantage when he wants to fuck you senseless. he can, without a doubt, fuck you in full nelson, arms hooked under your plush thighs, his self-control cracking with each warbled moan escaping your lips. mating press has to be his absolute favorite, however, since he can watch each cute expression you make and be able to crush you beneath him, snuffing out any hopes you have of attempting to crawl away from him. the position allows him to reach even deeper, his fat cock brushing against sensitive nerves that leave you jolting and desperately clinging onto him. he just finds it so cute that you're chanting his name — stupidly babbling it like it's the only thing you can even remember. and of course, each time he cums, each load will stay safely nestled deep inside your oversensitive hole. at least, until he pulls out, your gaping walls unable to keep his seed from dripping out.

It's not like (M/n) didn't know about it, but he never tried to bring the subject up in case something could go wrong. He knew his boyfriend liked rough sex more than he should, but maybe this little element, this play would be a little too much.

Well, he was wrong about that.

(M/n)'s jaw was clenched, his hands placed on either side of Flamebringer's head, hearing his loud cries of pleasure and seeing his fucked-dumb expression. His mouth was wide open, his head pressing on the pillow as his back arched off the bed, his legs wrapped around his hips and his hands desperately gripping the bedsheets.

Groaning at the feeling of Flamebringer's insides clenching around him, (M/n) pulled away, and pushed his hair back, grunting at the annoying feeling of his hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat. Whining as (M/n) stopped thrusting, Flamebringer saw (M/n)'s hand coming down from his head, and he just had to.

Biting his lip, he held (M/n)'s wrist and placed his hand on his neck, wrapping his hands around his, making him press down, his eyes slightly crossing at the feeling.

This was exactly what (M/n) didn't want to ask about, but it seems like it's a little late for that.

He was enjoying the look on Flamebringer's face, so he resumed his thrusts and gently started putting pressure on the flesh under his fingertips, getting in every reaction from the male under him.

Flamebringer released breathy moans and choked whimpers, begging (M/n) to press harder on his neck. (M/n) did that and observed closely how his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his twitching insides clenching around his pulsing cock, his body trembling and quivering with every orgasm he got.

That night, (M/n) found out that indeed, he did like the sight of his boyfriend trying to catch his breath, almost passing out but so turned on and fucked senseless because of the lack of oxygen in his lungs.