Grace doesn't curse. He never does whenever he's with Simon, or hanging out with Rocky, or teaching his classes. He makes jokes, softly smiling, patience between everyword he utters. Ryland Grace does not swear, or thats the version of Grace Simon knows.
While rummaging trough Mary, Simon came across a recording. Ryland looked younger, much younger, wearing a suit that commands respect. He's shouting as a colleague held him back. It didn't sound like the Grace he knows, not the man that kisses him good morning, the scent of morning dew that seems to cling to him, and yet—Simon doesn't buy it, his Grace can’t possibly talk like that.
Not until one day, his husband comes home in a sour mood. Something about a cocky Eridian scientist and a particularly rowdy class and wearing the wrong shirt for the day which made him sweat more than he'd like.
He sat at the dinner table, facing Simon. He asked, Grace deflected, but he pushes.
"It's okay, I'll hear you out," Simon smiles. His husband sighs as he rubs his nose bridge, nudging his glasses aside. Ryland takes a deep breath in, drumming his fingers on the table, He clears his throat before—
"Y'know, i don't think those fucking scientists know any better than me!” Grace scoffs, "I mean- I'm a scientist too! A damn good one at that, what makes them think they can treat me like some fucking-" He groans, leaning back on his chair.
"No, no, I'm sorry, i shouldn't be speaking like this, especially about them. They helped me- helped us, with the biodome. They did their best," Ryland smiles weakly before excusing himself to take a shower.
Simon sat, his eyes opened wide and mouth slightlly agape. He's never heard his Grace speak like that. Never imagined how it would go. Simon shakes himself, blinking away the shock before he gathers the plates to wash them.
If his pants feels a bit tighter than before, well thats for him to know .
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thinking about musician!ghost a lot, because ghost can sing
♡ he’s shy about it, of course, he’s a private man. wouldn’t be caught dead singing in front of anyone, ever.
♡ but after every op, fuck, sometimes during the ops, you’ll catch him humming softly behind the mask.
♡ after an op, ghost is cleaning himself up. he doesn’t notice you—or doesn’t care that you’re there, he trusts you—singing softly to himself while he bandages up his busted knuckles
♡ he flushes bright red when he finishes, realizing you’ve listened to every word.
♡ of course, he tries to downplay it, “oh, i’m not that good” but you know better. who knew simon riley had such a soft spot?
♡ its the one thing from his life that he’s always had, that has always been safe. safety is fleeting for him, this was his only comfort. before you came along, this was all he had, the only thing no one could steal from him.
♡ slowly but surely, he opens up. he sings more, a little more open around you. when his voice hitches on a hard note, he flinches, thinking you’re going to hate it, that he’s proved he’s not good ):
♡ your encouragement spurs him on, though. the way your eyes flutter as you lean against his shoulder, one of his big hands stroking your hair back, singing quietly to you until you fall asleep. (he’s learned all your favorite songs)
♡ you have nightmares, just like he does, and the way he soothes you back to sleep is by singing lullabies to you until you’re cuddled up in his arms again. “it’s no bother,” he says, “love singing for you, dove.”
Created for the Sam space in Jack Kline Bingo ( @advancednougat // @wickedwithwings ) and the Sam space in @spnrareshipbingo
Word Count: 1099
Pairing: Sam Winchester & Jack Kline (Platonic)
Summary:
“--to me. Happy birthday Dear--”
“--Jack?”
Sam knocked on the door twice in a quick succession before entering the room. His heart broke at the sight. Jack was sitting alone on his bed; in front of him there was an unopened package of Little Debbie Zebra Cakes that Dean often would buy, and a lit candle that they kept around for when a spell called for it.
Could I get an Enjin X male reader please? Like the reader is obsessed over his tattoos or something. Perferably smut if possible. This fandom isn't too fond of male readers sadly💔 so I can never find any male reader smuts.
Hiii!! Ofc i love writing for Enjin and yea i get it, new fandoms has such little x Male reader fics its so sad :( though with me writing and the fandom growing i hope more fics will come out soon!
Trails upon The Skin
Enjin x Male Reader
There's something so mesmerizing about watching a fellow Cleaner work. Each Cleaner has their own unique style that matches their unique use of their vital instrument; a Cleaner's personality also matches their vital instrument, in one way or another. Another common similarity is also a Cleaners aesthetic and their vital instrument. Zanka’s staff is precise and sharp, but neat like the man himself. Riyo is always quick on her feet and sharp with her words, like her scissors. Enjin’s Umbreaker is sharp and versatile, with writings etched on its outer canopy, like him and his myriad of tattoos.
Those damn tattoos.
Tags: Enjin x Male Reader, Enjin x M!Reader, Smut, Established Relationship, NSFW, handjobs, Praise kink, Body Worship, short fic, reader obsessed over Enjins tattoo, I mean who doesnt man, bros beautiful
There's something so mesmerizing about watching a fellow Cleaner work. Each Cleaner has their own unique style that matches their unique use of their vital instrument; a Cleaner's personality also matches their vital instrument, in one way or another.
Another common similarity is also a Cleaners aesthetic and their vital instrument. Zanka’s staff is precise and sharp, but neat like the man himself. Riyo is always quick on her feet and sharp with her words, like her scissors. Enjin’s Umbreaker is sharp and versatile, with writings etched on its outer canopy, like him and his myriad of tattoos.
Those damn tattoos.
Whenever you're sent out with Enjin, you're always aware of his ink hidden beneath his shirt and jacket. There are times where the man would do a powerful attack on a monster, which sends him soaring above the clouds and as he descends, especially in his cocky, feather-slow fall, the way his shirt rides up and the thick jacket flapping in the winds, you can't help but gulp as his tattoos are revealed. That circle symbol on his naval, almost acting as an arrow to the blonde trail under his pants. The tattoo rarely shows itself, unlike the ones that decorate his neck and wrists, but it makes it all the more special.
Tonight, however, your obsession over your boyfriend's ink got the best of you.
The man has fully risen, the building silent aside from the light shuffle from one pair of shoes or another. There's a hum outside the window, the wind making itself heard for whoever decided to step foot into the night. You've decided to spend yet another night in Enjins room, mostly because you didn't want to disturb Rudo—the light sleeper he is—with the noise your boyfriend will undoubtedly make, or shout.
“Fuck, babe…” A pitched sigh escapes Enjin as he writhes, his hand grabs at your shoulder, nails digging into the flesh. A smirk finds its way to your lips as you continue to press your lips against his tattoos, paying special attention to those sensitive spots you've etched into your mind. You've been lighting his skin ablaze from his jawline to his chest, now rolling one pebbled nipple between your pinched finger, the other being lapped, your tongue running over it.
Enjin’s back bows, he bites at his knuckle to suppress a shout, though his effort turns the noise into a whine instead. You continue your movement, now peppering down his blacked out sleeve, following the ink until you reach the red and white that snakes down his forearm to his cuff. Your hand follows the taut lines of his abdominal muscles down to the circular tattoos, then brushes past them. You lift Enjin's wrist, pressing kisses on each of his knuckles, capturing his golden irises within yours.
The man gasps from the deep arousal within your eyes, caught off guard as you slip a hand beneath his pants, rubbing at his hard-on. “Shit, hey–”
“You’re so beautiful, Enjin,” you ghosts between his fingers, your tongue teases at his middle finger, slowly bringing the digit between your lips while your other hand makes itself known to Enjins dick. He gasps as his back arches, the gorgeous expanse of inked skin on display as you had your fill, eyes trailing from top to bottom before finally settling down to the droplets of black decorating his neck. It’s almost inviting, like a mark you're meant to hold, a palm placement to squeeze. Maybe another time.
You begin to stroke Enjin’s cock, languidly as your fingers start with a loose grip around it, moving your hand lazily while you savor his whines. You've practically covered the blonde's wrist with saliva and turn to peppering kisses across his palm instead, and while Enjin’s eyes are not on yours, your eyes linger still on his collar. The strokes begin to gain speed; you've wrapped your fingers tightly, moving with purpose, making the man beneath you jump at the change of pace. Naturally, you’ve learned the sweet spots of Enjin’s body, particularly on his sensitive dick. There’s a technique he knows you’ll use against him and is guaranteed to make him snap, although nothing much will make the man burst after what you've put him through.
Despite the demeanor he puts out, Enjin is weak under compliments and attention. He’s unfamiliar with it, which is a shame since your favorite activity is to drown him in compliments and those that etch into his body with marks and bruises. Knowing his weakness to praise, you continue to whisper such remarks with each passing kiss you press against his trembling skin.
You continue to stroke his dick, now with a steady pace, aiming for his release. Enjin thrashes as a whine escapes him, his free hand grasping at the pillow behind him as he exposes his jugular vein. The temptation of such a sensitive area won you over as you ditch his hand and dip to bite at his exposed neck, though not leaving him empty-handed as you entwine his fingers with yours. The almost rabid display of lust must’ve been what sent the man over as your teeth sink into his taut skin, so he comes undone, white pearls shoot across his abdomen, coating your hand and his stomach, reaching just beneath his ribs. Enjin cums with a silent shout, replaced with a whiney groan when he tenses, then shudders along the aftershock of it. You continue to worry the skin you've bitten, letting him ride the ecstasy as you continue to pump him slowly, putting care into your movement while Enjin gulps down air and blinks away the prickling tears.
“You did so well baby,” You smile against his jaw, nuzzling into his warmth, feeling the hammering pulse as Enjin collects himself. He grunts when you lie beside him and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek.
“Stop, we’re done with that,” He rolls his eyes, though doesn't fight the smile that comes with it. You chuckle, reaching for the tissues to clean up the mess on your hand and Enjins body. Once wiped clean, Enjin promptly pulls the blanket over both of you as he buries himself into your chest. You pull the man closer, sighing as you lay your chin atop his mop of blonde hair.
Though sleep has yet to consume you, your eyes ventured down the ink on Enjins neck once more. His tattoos have always complemented him so well, so captivating whenever you gaze upon them. Enjin stirs from the attention, yet once he realizes where said attention is put into, he chuckles briefly. You raise a brow; “What? What's so funny?”
“You really do love my tats, huh?” He smirks.
“Yes, and I'll say it over, and over, and over again until you remember that,” He huffs at your response, though he settles down when you press a kiss into his temple. The moon has risen high when you finally let the exhaustion envelop you as you bring Enjin impossibly closer into your warmth and fall asleep embracing him.
Helloooo!!! I saw the post for the Male!reader for dispatch!! Do you think you can do one with flambae? Maybe a reader who used to be good villain-friends with him but went MIA one night? Maybe the reader ended up getting into SDN or something more interesting:0
Also hope you’re doing well!! Keep up the work twin!
Ay twin ty sm for requesting this! I'm gonna be real I ran a marathon with your idea so this fic is such a jumble of ideas and headcanons of Flambae. Imma be real, Flambae is not in my top fav Dispatch characters, but i do like me some cocky men. To me, he is such a hard-headed individual that he hates to be perceived as ‘weak’, I hope this fic conveys your idea well! I hope you like it!
Snow Storm Pt.1
Flambae x male!Villain!Reader. Pt.2 // Pt.3
Though you didn't do many of those robberies alone. There was once a time where you had a partner in crime.
Tags: Flambae x male!reader, Flambae x Villain!reader, Prism, Blonde Blazer, Chase, The Z-Team, OOC!Flambae, maybe, First meeting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, Jealous!Reader, Arguments, Fights, Described non-lethal wound, No Blood Mentioned, Reader has Ice Powers, I love Prism can you tell lmao, Flambae and his emotional baggage, or him being complicated asf?, idk i just like him a little bit
Being in the Villainy business guarantees a dangerous lifestyle. Going against the law, moving behind shadows and running amongst the busy-bodies of LA, all to make a mysterious persona no officer or hero can catch. It’s living a dangerous, glamorous life, if you succeed, that is.
You remembered your first robbery, a jewelry store local to your hometown. It was small, you recall going there once when you were young with your parents, a snobby clerk who rips off customers for fake diamonds. You wouldn't consider the robbery an anti-hero job, more of avenging the money he scammed from your parents that one time. After all, that necklace was for your mother; how dare that con man use your father’s affections for his quick buck.
Since you've moved to LA, you've advanced from robbing small stores to swindling bigger establishments. Malls, corporate businesses, and other high-end places. Though you didn't do many of those robberies alone.
There was once a time were you had a partner in crime.
You met Flambae in one of the dingy villain dive bars, a couple of months after you first moved to Torrance. Boredom got the best of you, and while you’re not the usual type to go out for drinks, Prism was the one who insisted.
“Baby being holed up in your apartment is not the way you should spend a Saturday night.”
“Prism, you know I don't drink–”
“You don't gotta if you don't wanna! I’m sayin’ just hang around a bit, oggle at some dudes and laugh at drunk people, yknow!” She grins, checking her hair in the mirror while you reluctantly reach for a better shirt than your usual home-wear.
“Oh! And I got this cutie I want you to meet,” She dabs a finger on her lips to better apply her lipstick before continuing. “He’s annoying as hell, but you’ll love him.”
“Well, don't threaten me with a good time,” You huff, sliding into your leather jacket and sliding next to the woman. She glances at your reflection before checking herself again, a grin on her lips.
“It’ll be fun, you can trust me,” Prism smiles, leading you out of your home and into the Los Angeles night.
When you and Prism arrived, she scanned the bar before a man at one of the booths waved his hand. She smirks and hooks an arm around you, immediately ushering you to follow her. When you two got to the booth, said man is wearing a deep red button-up, though it should be considered a button-down with how many buttons are loose. Jet black hair is tied back, a dangerous grin supporting his lips.
“Ayee, it’s good to see you, Prism,” He stands to greet the woman. His eyes glance towards you as he raises a brow. Prism took the hint as she nodded back towards you, standing just to her side.
“Right, Flambae, I want you to meet my friend,” She introduces you, keeping your identity a secret. “He goes by Snow Storm, but Stormy for short.”
“Stormy for friends.” You corrected, flashing a sharp smile towards Flambae.
Said main hums before he smirks, mirroring the same dangerous grin. “Oh yeah? A friend of Prism’s a friend of mine,”
“We’ll see,” You chuckle, shaking his extended hand, letting your frost power seep through just a bit. “And I take it your powers are… fire?”
“I control the fire and flame, I am Flambae,” He smirks, sparks of orange dancing around the clasped hands. Your senses immediately surround your hand with your power, protecting you from his display of fire.
Prism catches the palpable tension between her and sighs loudly, pushing past both of you in the direction of the bar. “You men, I swear!”
“Imma go get us some drinks, try not to kill each other while sober!” She rolls her eyes as she walks, leaving you and Flambae alone. You groan, dropping Flambae’s hand and taking a seat facing him. He does the same, eyes still dissecting your profile. There was silence between you, only interrupted by the bar music and the murmurs of the other patrons' conversation. You glance around, finding subjects to focus your mind on instead of the annoyingly pretty man in front of you before he opens his mouth again, questioning you.
“So uh… How’d you meet Prism?” He raises a brow.
You shrug, tapping a finger on the table. “We were friends before I moved here, I mean– I didn't realize she moved here too, we became close again since she’s the only other person I knew that's from Michigan,”
“Oh, so what brings you here, then?”
“Came here cuz uh… I got bored, I guess.”
“What? Robbing innocent shops isn't as entertaining anymore?” You chuckle at Flambae’s question, shaking your head.
“Aim for a bigger prize is what my folks used to say,” Flambae only hums as a response, before he continues.
“With powers like yours, I thought you’d be running an ice cream truck instead of becoming a villain,” He snickers. “No offence, but uh… your powers aren't exactly… Destructive.”
Flame runs up his arm to his palm, the man's power just as flashy as his personality. You huff and roll your eyes, thinking just how fitting his abilities are to the man. “Right, and you would be better off being somebody’s water heater, but you don't see me saying anything about that,”
His smile drops; instead, Flambae chuckles darkly, a hint of teeth behind a grin, visible annoyance within his eyes. Frost creeps between your fingers, hairs on your skin anticipating a brawl, and yet, Flambae surprises you with a full laugh. You almost lost your composure from his shocking change of demean, but immediately school them back as the man’s laughter dies down.
“Prism has a great taste in friends,” He grins. “She’s friends with me, so of course she does– obviously–”
You were about to interject before he continued with a finger pointed your way. “But you? I like your whole uh- style. It suits you,”
“Thanks…?” You sputter, though you let the compliment simmer within you. When your brain finally caught up, Prism came back with three shots of alcohol, setting them in front of you and Flambae before she made you scoot deeper into the booth.
“Good to know you both haven't torn down the place yet, watch’u been talking about anyway?” She glances between you and Flambae, a smirk playing on her lips.
You stare at Flambae’s hand that's on your shoulder, hairs on your arm standing when you hadn't noticed the man had moved closer. “Just how much of a good friend you are, babe, isn't that right, Stormy?”
“Sure,” Tension makes itself known on your jaw, though you force an easy smile for Prism. Her eyes sharpen before eventually sighing.
“You damn right I am, but you both better not be fighting behind my back,” She points between the two men in front of her. “I wanna record it,”
Ever since then, you, Prism, and Flambae became closer. The relationship was friendly, though between you and Flambae, there was an underlying tension that has yet to be named. Months flew by, and you and the two friends had hung out more than you can count. It was mostly on weekends or after a successful robbery. Prism would bring you, and Flambae never rejects a party. Eventually, the dive bars turn into lunch at local diners, then to random hangout places. The warmth of friendship started to seep between the cracks of the group, and while you kept your secrets deep within you, Flambae was easier to crack than you expected. Whenever he would get drunk, somehow the man finds himself crashing at your place while muttering pieces of his history.
You learned his name, his family, his native background, all from the man rambling in the dead of night. While you're still learning to trust him, you know the first code of maintaining a good villain-friend relationship was to not leak each other's secrets— without payment. So you kept his personal information filed inside your brain, away from prying eyes, even when Flambae often wakes up hungover and cranky, at which he would tumble around your kitchen as you fix him breakfast and drive him back to his place. It almost became a routine, a familiar ritual, to the point of you making mental notes to buy more groceries in case Flambae decided to crash. You got used to his presence.
“You know I can fly, right?” His voice was softer than the radio you almost missed his question. The car was stopped in front of an intersection. The traffic light was on a bright red. It was a bright Friday morning, Flambae sat at the passenger seat while your blank face stared into the streets.
“I’m sorry?”
“This? Driving me home? I don't need it.” He mutters. Your brow furrows, a visible crease on the edges of your lips.
“Okay? You know I don't mind… ” Genuine confusion must be visible as Flambae immediately turned away when he tried to meet your eyes.
“I don't need your charity case, alright?” Flambae answers, his tone clipped. You feel your confusion starting to transition to anger, though you knew better than to escalate.
“I’m– This isn't a charity case, Flambae. I don't think it’s wise to fly around while you’re fucking hungover.”
“Oh, so you care about me– No, I’m not fucking hungover, wise guy!” He bites back, sparks start to show between Flambae’s digits. You inhaled sharply, turning back to face the road when the cars behind you began to honk. Annoyed, you continue to drive, mainly to distract the growing anger.
“Yeah? So it’s okay for me to just kick you out onto the street, right now?” You smile mockingly, glancing at Flambae. You knew stroking the fire was not advised, especially inside your only car that you had no insurance on—It was stolen, alright? Cars are expensive.
“Oh please, y’know that might be for the best,” He crosses his arms, dropping back into the seat, sarcasm laced in his words. You were about to drop the argument before you heard muttering under his breath. If you’ve known Flambae long enough, you know the man was saying things he wished you had heard but didn't.
So instead, you ask, “Okay, then let me ask you one thing;”
“Why do you keep coming back to my apartment, when you’re fucking wasted? Do you know how many times I wish I didn't need to see your stupiddly pretty face all drunk on my goddamn couch and make me worry about what you were doing all night–”
The car halts, a red light you almost ran. Your anger has slipped; you realize when you stare back at the man beside you, out of breath. His expression shocks you, a mixture of embarrassment and anger on his usually confident demeanor. You gulp, holding back the gnawing anger instead. “I… You don't have to answer that– I didn't mean to say–”
“Shut up.”
The air grew humid, a mixture of your abilities leaking into the car and Flambae on the edge of lashing out with his. Crackles can be heard, you gulp, and keep looking at the man beside you, though he has his eyes boring into the dashboard.
“I didn't–”
Flambae pushes open the car door and swiftly slams it closed. You immediately follow him out of the vehicle, shouting his name. The man bursts into flames in front of you, which had you covering your body with a layer of ice, avoiding a serious burn. His eyes are glowing outlines, staring into you before he mutters, “Don't come looking for me.”
He surges upwards and flies away, leaving a scorch mark on the concrete below. You follow his path before Flambae disappears between the clouds, at which you release a pent sigh. Dread settles deep inside your heart, something worse follows the feeling, but you didn't have the capacity to dissect it at that moment. You walk back into your car before the traffic becomes the reason you’re arrested. When you settled back in, you hadn't realized the burn mark that runs up your arm, from your wrist to your upper arm. Flambae’s fire must have burnt through your ice, or amidst the panic, you didn't cover it with enough layers of ice.
Though the wound hurts, it reflects the pain within your core, a mess you have yet to realize.
Weeks had passed by before Flambae talked to you again. Thought it was mostly for Prism’s birthday party. She invited both you and Flambae to her mansion and promised alcohol. While you hesitated, you truly do hold the woman close to your heart, and she was your friend who goes back before you became a villain, so you relented.
You wore your best party casual, keeping your hair tidy and accessorizing appropriately. You decided to wear a cologne, keeping it simple enough for Prisms' usually lavish parties.
The house isn't exactly a mansion, but it is bigger than most apartments. Her house is outside of Beverly Hills, a drive away from your place. When you arrived, the party had already started, judging by the booming music from inside the place and multiple cars and bikes parked outside. You rang the bell and were greeted by Prism in a gorgeous outfit with gold accents, her hair braided down but still supporting the blue and pink colors.
“Stormy, you made it!” She cheers, bringing you into a hug. You laugh, hugging the woman back.
“Wouldn't miss my best friend's birthday party,” You grin. “Oh, and here, it’s a surprise,”
You handed her your gift, which was a necklace wrapped within a shoe box you found, intending to be a prank when she found the smaller jewelry inside its actual box instead of a pair of shoes. She chuckles and sets it aside onto a table piled with other gifts, towering over you.
“Come on! The party’s just gettin’ started!” Prism drags you inside and you follow easily. What you didn't prepare for was to see Flambae on the other end of the lounge, sitting beside another man. The stranger has his arm around Flambae’s shoulder, a sly smile on his lips. Though you're uncertain if Flambae had spotted you, you certainly saw the display, making a putrid feeling in your gut start to swell.
In the past weeks, you had to convince yourself there was nothing between you and Flambae. You were only kind to him as a partner in crime, as someone who's also in the villain world. When he would ramble about his family, you only ever listened intently as a means to gain leverage over him—if ever the time comes. Everything you did had an ulterior motive, is what you kept saying to yourself.
Is what you keep repeating inside your heart, regardless of what you feel.
Prism’s birthday party was amazing, as all lavish parties are. There were drinks, a DJ, you watched your best friend cut her tiered cake, and hosted a dance circle in the middle of the lounge floor. Prism controlled the partygoers with her natural confidence as she danced and sang her original songs, creating an easy atmosphere that everyone followed. The song transitioned into something slower; the bass carried a beat through the room, and the lights had dimmed to a dark indigo. With a few drinks in your system, it was easier to move between the crowd, slipping past bodies with a simple shuffle.
You were nursing your cup of alcohol before your eyes widened at the arrival of Flambae just meters in front of you. He’s making his way between dancing bodies, with a hypnotizing stare that meets your eyes. The room seems to spin, though you would blame the influence of the alcohol; it certainly did not play a part in the warmth you feel creeping up your cheeks. Flambae doesn't break eye contact until he’s chest to chest, practically moving against your body, and a prominent sweet scent goes into your senses.
“Here,” His calloused fingers trail down your arm until they reach your cup. He sets it aside, though he slips his fingers between yours, pulling himself against you.
The music and drinks nurture an intoxicating atmosphere, almost dream-like as Flambae’s lidded eyes take his fill. He whistles lowly, a dangerous smirk on his lips. “Don't you look pretty,”
You huff, feeling the heat on your face, thanking the dim light that it shouldn't be as visible. “I should say the same for you,”
Flambae chuckles as he guides your arms to settle on his hips, letting his own easily hang on your shoulders. You follow his steps into an easy sway, slow and rhythmic, following the beat of the music. The lights flicker a hue of blue and purple, a ghost of white and red follows it. Both of you continued to bathe in each other's warmth, in Flambae’s alluring eyes as he leads the movements.
It wasn't until Flambae grazed the healed burn on your arm did you realized the predicament you both are in. “I’m happy you didn't come running after me like a lost dog,”
Your movements halted. You furrow your brows, staring straight into Flambae. “That's… no– I shouldn't be doing this.”
Flambae feels your hands shake, wavering as they leave his hips. You slowly push him away, making space between the two of you. He hadn't caught on that said space has gone cold, small snowflakes appearing from your hand that pushes against his chest.
“Don't– Don't do this, Flambae.”
The man in question stares at your hand, a sense of bewilderment behind his eyes that he tries to cover with his faux confidence. “Do what? I only wanted a dance–”
“No. You… You left me.” Flambae scoffs as you meet his eyes. “You were the one who left, you don't get to do this to me.”
“I didn't do anything. You don't need to make all this drama.”
“Drama?” You tilted your head, feeling your ice shards seeping through your skin. “Us having breakfast together, talking about our damn lives– That's drama to you?”
“You're making a big deal out of nothin’. Don't wear your heart on your sleeves, Stormy.” Flambae mocks, crossing his arms. You stare at him, mouth slightly agape.
The once simmering anger instead dies down, leaving only a gaping wound within you. Your abilities retract, only poking small holes in the inside of the jacket you wore. You scoff, finding the floor to focus on. “You're right. It was nothing,”
“And it shouldn't become anything.”
You take a step back, permanently widening the rift between you and the man. You gulp, meeting his eyes. There was a tinge of visible regret within Flambae’s eyes, though with how heavy your head seems to feel, you could be mistaken. Instead, you gathered every part of yourself that wasn't hurting. “For a man who talks big about controlling fire, you sure are a coward, Flambae.”
The music continues to thump behind you as you leave the house. You immediately start your car and pull out of the driveway, and if you saw Flambae running out of the house, you decided to pay no attention to it.
—
You were one of the first people to join the Phoenix program. After some time, doing villain work, robbing banks, and stealing stuff can only get so fun until it becomes mundane. You're mostly settled with the amount of money you've gained and so you decided to hand yourself over to SDN to join the new rehabilitation program. It's been a couple of months since you’ve been under Chase, with a team of renowned heroes, while Blonde Blazer gathers more reformed villains into the team.
When Blazer called you into her office, she informed you that she had finally gathered a team of villains to formally start the Phoenix program, and she hoped you could meet them and get yourself acquainted with the team since you’ll become a part of them.
“I’ll be holding a meeting this afternoon, it’s mandatory to come, okay?”
“Like I have anything better to do, miss Blazer,” She regards you with a look which you only shrugged. She’s grown used to your mannerisms, and while you were a former criminal, you’re the least likely to cause trouble in the SDN building. She sends you off to do your shift.
It was an hour past lunch, which was the designated time for the meeting. You finish washing your hands from the sandwich you had earlier and head into the meeting room. As you were about to open the opaque door, a familiar hue of orange and black raised your hairs. You blink, hesitating now to push into the meeting room when Chase suddenly appears next to you.
“What are you doin’ out here kid? Aint ya’ supposed to be there with Blazer, meetin’ all o'those fuckers?” He shakes his head and opens the door. “Come on ya’ ice maker, don't pussy out so now,”
Your answer was cut short when those same sharp eyes met yours. The scabbed wound was suddenly ripped open, beginning pain anew within your rib cage. You scan the room to see familiar and unfamiliar faces, the only comfort you managed to find was Prism's familiar grin, her shining eyes behind her visor.
“There you are,” Blazer smiles, pulling you to stand beside her. “Alright, Z-team, meet your last new member, Snow Storm.”
“Now you all will be working together as a part of the Phoenix program, so I expect some camaraderie and teamwork when you're under your own dispatcher, understand?”
The room mumbles in agreement, though your eyes were glued to Flambae and his frown. Your hand rubs at the burnt skin on your arm. You did not expect to see him again after years of avoiding him, of pushing that hypnotizing smile and borderline-illegal body of his. You did not expect to be working with him either.
You sent a silent prayer to whoever will be the Z-team’s future dispatcher to have the best of luck.
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hi hi firstly i just want to say thank you so much for bringing up the lack of male!reader, ftm!reader, gn!reader content there is on tumblr. as a genderfluid trans masc its difficult sometimes to read mostly female reader fics. so i appreciate it. 🫂
With that being said, would you be willing to write an Enjin x ftm!reader smut? The reader is an established Cleaner, and is quiet, but somehow Enjin is the only person who can get them to talk.
i honestly don’t know bc this is my first time requesting something so i’m just gonna put my trust in you and say write whatever you’d want honestly. 🙏 i’ll take whatever you can give me
Awh omg thank u! I do truly love writing x male reader fics, especially for fandoms that has little to no fics of it. Also i looove love writing for Enjin, unfortunately I haven't read the manga yet so this might be OOC, a lot of it is just my headcanons for Enjin, though i hope you like it anon! <3
Reserved
Enjin x FtM!Reader
Rudo meets another member of the Cleaner group, a quiet and reserved man who greets him with a small smile. At first, the boy was confused at the man's lack of loudness, unlike everyone else here, but he soon finds out that the only time Rudo hears the man utter more than a simple greeting was when Enjin enters the room
Tags: Enjin x male reader, Enjin x FTM!Reader, Quite Reader, no use of Y/N, established relationship, Enjin is WHIPPED btw, love a man thats cocky but yearns, slightly OOC, smut, NSFW, Top Surgery Scars, No bottom surgery, P in V, female anatomy mentioned, Use of Pet Names, my obsession with Enjins damn tattoos, Making out
—
3rd POV
“And here, Rudo, is the common room! We spend time here to just hang out and chat, all that stuff!” Riyo smiles, opening the door to the large room that supports an array of bookshelves, a sofa and bar stools with a bar tucked away in one corner. The room is evenly lit, and the hanging lights give a comforting atmosphere. Rudo scans the room and spots a lone man sitting on one of the barstools, seemingly engrossed in a book. The red-haired girl notices the man and grins, before shouting across the room.
“Oh hey! I didn't realize you were back already!” her volume echoes through the room, almost making Rudo deaf in one ear as Riyo approaches the man. The man in question simply turns to Riyo and smiles softly before nodding and promptly returns to his book. Riyo approaches the man and pats his shoulder, leading Rudo to him.
Riyo introduces the man to Rudo, as he learns that the quiet man is a Cleaner—‘one of the big dogs’ at that, from what Riyo described him to be.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you,” Rudo nods curtly. He meets the man's eyes, surprisingly warm despite the lack of expression within them.
“Pleasure’s all mine, Rudo,” The kid is met with yet another small smile before he promptly turns back to his book. Before Rudo could continue with a question, Riyo was quick to pull him into the hallway to visit another room.
“I’m glad you're back in one piece! See you around,” Riyo waves as the two leave the common room, the doors latching close behind them. Rudo continues to follow the cheerful woman before he grumbles slightly, his mind still trails back into the quiet man from before.
“Why’s he…” Rudo pouts, earning Riyo’s attention as they continue to walk. “He’s weird. He’s not as loud as you guys,”
Riyo’s brows shot up before she laughed, almost doubling over. “I can't believe you just said that,”
Rudo’s cheeks turn bright red before he stutters, his hands waving about as he tries to form a retaliation. “I- I mean he- everyone else likes to shout here it’s just- he’s so…”
“Quiete? Yeah,” Riyo chuckles, patting Rudo’s back as she begins to guide the boy to continue to their next room. “He’s just like that, don't worry about it, he means no harm with it,”
Rudo hums as they continue to walk. The boy wonders if they would meet again in a mission or some.
—
1st POV
It was an hour past lunchtime by now. You’ve been sitting at a table in the far end of the cafeteria, some chips in front of you and your favorite book in hand, just to pass the time. You haven't found another book that piqued your interest, so the current story you've been reading only serves its purpose to fill space. Munching on the chips also burns time. You glance over at the clock on the wall, and the long arm ticks away as seconds pass.
When the doors to the cafeteria open to welcome the returning Cleaner group, your eyes zero in on your boyfriend walking in, his attention on Rudo—The new kid you’ve met earlier in the day—before Enjin finds his way towards you. His eyes light up, smiling easily, finding his place on his lips. “Hey babe, you’re back, huh?”
He grins, making his way to sit beside you, immediately pressing himself to your side. You grin, closing the book to turn towards Enjin. “Yeah, been back since earlier today,”
Enjin nods as he wraps an arm around you. “Must've been an easy one if you're back so early,”
“I don't like to sightsee, Enjin, unlike somebody,” You roll your eyes, earning a chuckle from the man.
“Awh come on babe, if I wasn't sightseeing, I wouldn't have found our new raccoon boy here,” He tilts his head to Rudo who's taking his seat in front of you. His brows furrow, his eyes fleeting between you and Enjin.
You chuckle, pushing at Enjin's side slightly. “Well that's true, it was truly nice meeting you, Rudo,”
The boy blinks, dumbfounded he seems, before he nods shortly, a small ‘yeah’ from him.
“Have you had lunch yet?” Enjin brings back your attention to him, his golden eyes captivate you.
“Already did, you?”
“Not yet, buuuut…” He shifts closer to you, his voice ghosts at the shell of your ear. “I think I'm craving something else right now,”
Warmth finds its way up your neck, a shiver running through your body. “Enjin…”
He smirks before promptly turning to his team. “Welp, I’m tired, I’ll go ahead out now guys,”
“Hey, don't we have to report back–” Zanka interrupts.
“We’ll do that later, don't worry about it,” He grins, pulling at your waist to stand with him. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me, aight?”
Enjin leads you out of your room with his hand on your back, rubbing at the Cleaner's jacket softly, though you can feel the heat within his touch beneath all of the fabric. You feel your cheeks burning as the doors close, yours and Enjin's steps echo through the hallways. “Really, Enjin? In front of the team?”
“What? Am I not allowed to express my love for my baby boy?” You shove at Enjin's side, laughing throughout the walk.
“Shut up! You little…”
“Come oooon,” He moans whilst jiggling his keys into the door to his room, the door promptly pushed right after. You chuckle as Enjin brings you into his room. The man slots in his locks easily instead of using his keys.
You sit back on his bed as Enjin groans, shrugging his jacket off and onto the floor by doing so, his tattooed sleeves on full display. “Ugh, I really am tired, y’know,”
“Yeah? I bet,” You grin, leaning back and letting your hand support you on Enjin's soft blanket. The man pouts as he makes way towards you. Enjin leans down, his arms surrounding your sides as he huffs into your shoulder. He stays like that for a minute or two, before he picks his head back up and stares. Anyone else would be put off by the blonde's antics, and yet, you only sigh slightly with a small smile on your lips.
Enjin grins as he trails his vision from your eyes slowly to your lips.”I like that about you?”
“About me?”
“You, being quiet,” He smirks as he licks his lips. “But being super chatty with me,”
“It’s so, so, cute,”
Enjin presses his lips against yours, inhaling the choked gasp from you as he moves to place one leg onto the bed, his hands now slowly pushing you to lie beneath him. Enjin's lips chase yours before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him down with you. The soft pecks quickly devolve into hunger, the slight grunts you hear between kisses from your boyfriend as an indication. He has taken both of his knees to bracket you, truly enveloping you between his body and the mattress. Enjin breaks the kiss in favor of peppering kisses do your jaw, which makes you arch your neck, letting out a soft moan. The blonde bites at your jugular, knowing it’ll leave a mark once he’s done.
Enjin sits back, admiring his work—watching as you writhe between the sheets, a think sheen of sweat on your skin—as he smirks. He pulls off his top, fully exposing the intricate inks running down his arms, the tendrils on his neck and his piercings catch the minimal light in his room. It's truly unfair how a man can embody such chaotic beauty. Enjin sighs, preening from your eyes mapping his body, before he leans back down to pull your jacket and shirt right off, his hands possessively grabbing at your body. He goes back to biting at any exposed skin he can get his lips on, from your neck to your clavicle. He brushes over your chest, pressing deeper kisses into your tattooed surgery scars—the tattoos Enjin absolutely adores.
“Enjin, hey…” You find yourself grasping his blonde mop of hair, earning a hum from the man. He kisses the scars hidden beneath the ink, glancing upwards once with a smirk—Such a tease.
He continues his movement downwards, slowly pulling down your pants with it, leaving you bare and spread beneath him. You hear him audibly gulp before he continues to bite and mark your body. He pushes your thighs upwards as he kisses the underside of them. A particular hard bite makes you choke out a gasp. He soothes the angry teeth marks by lapping over them. You dare to meet his eyes only to be greeted by darkened golden irises, deep with arousal.
Enjin reaches for the bottle of lube on his nightstand and pops the cap open, generously pouring it onto his fingers and a bit into your hole. He continues to kiss your thigh as he inserts one finger, which makes you groan, hands grasping at the sheets.
“Shit- Enjin,” He grins, those intoxicating deep golds now slightly covered as his hair has grown disheveled.
“Relax babe, be as loud as you want, after all, only I can hear you.”
Your hips buck when he slowly pushes a second finger in, pushing in and out to loosen you. That earns him a sharp moan, your head thrown back. Enjin continues his ministration, alternating between bites and kisses and he continues to move his fingers. Soon enough, you felt an emptiness when he pulled out, rubbing his still-wet fingers onto your clit. Your sharp inhale makes Enjin smirk dangerously.
He pushes his pants down, his erect cock standing proud between your legs. The man rubs it over your hole, the tease he is. You groan before pulling his wrist, the man tumbles to hover over you.
“If you don't get your damn dick in me, I swear Enjin,” You bite, at which Enjin's smile widens.
“Impatient baby boy, I get it,” He relents, one hand on his prick to direct him as he pushes in slowly. Enjin grunts as he moves, inch by inch. When he bottoms out, the man groans as he drops his head between your shoulder, panting between breaths. He’d be lying if your warmth never fails to push him over the edge by so much.
A drawn-out moan is rewarded for Enjin when he finally fills you. His hips stutter, waiting until you’re ready. When he feels you nod, Enjin begins to move. Slowly at first, savoring in your heat, your unrestrained moans, louder now as they echo throughout his room. His movement builds up in speed and vigor; his pants turn to grunts. You’ve learned that once your boyfriend's movement starts to stutter and those borderline animistic grunts morph into a soft mewl and whimper, he’s reaching his limit.
Enjin's hand reaches down to rub at the sensitive bud above your hole. You almost scream, and you thought you did until no sound escaped your lips; instead were left to writhe while a groan escaped instead. Your hips follow his movement, Enjin's finger rubbing rapidly while he tries to maintain his thrusting.
“Baby- Agh- are you going to cum? Cum for me?” That always tips you over. The way Enjin doesn't command, he asks. Something in his voice, the whine that hides beneath his tone, the slight shake in his voice as if he’s asking for permission, despite him taking the reins in the situation. It never fails to make you spill, that yearning undertone within his words, like he’s asking for approval, a pathetic pup awaiting your words.
“Yes- yeah, Enjin, please,” He continues his movement. The tides come rushing down almost immediately, you feel him shake above you as he continues to thrust before stilling, a drawn-out moan as he spills inside you. His fingers don't stop, however, at which a shiver wracks your body as you follow him into the bliss. Enjin continues to rub at the sensitive nerves as he starts rutting into you, slow and deliberate, riding his high with labored breath.
As he slowly pulls out, he groans at the sight beneath him. Your chest heaving, his and yours cum mixing in your cunt, the visible blush that goes down to your shoulders. “So beautiful, my baby boy,”
Enjin—Somehow, his strength still confuses you sometimes—gathers you in his arms before promptly moving you to rest on his pillows, now wrapped in his sheet and blankets. You groan at the stickiness between your legs, which makes Enjin chuckle slightly. “Ugh, we’re gonna have to clean your sheet.”
“Ah well, we can send it to laundry tomorrow,”
“You’re gonna let our poor Supports clean up our mess? Yeah, right,” You roll your eyes, jabbing a finger at Enjin’s cheek in retaliation. “How could you? Hm?”
Enjin laughs as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. “Okay, okay, we’ll wash it together,” He sighs.
It was three in the afternoon maybe, but you know Enjin is not moving anytime soon unless he becomes hungry for some actual sustenance. And so you made yourself comfortable in his arms, letting the blonde play with your hair as you slowly drifted into a blissful sleep.
—
3rd POV
“He… He talks?!” Rudo shouts as he watches Enjin and the man exits the cafeteria. Riyo hums as Zanka takes a seat, sighing at seeing the couple hand in hand, undoubtedly leaving for a private room to do their own thing.
“Well, yeah? Everyone talks here, Rudo,” The girl chuckles, finishing what's left of the chips her fellow cleaner left, a glance over at the book he left.
“But he… but he didn't even make a sound when he met me?”
“What? Jealous?” Riyo grins, which makes the boy furrow his brows and shake his head furiously, earning a laugh from her. Zanka examines the book slightly before he leans onto the table, propping himself with one hand.
“He’s just like that,” He turns to Rudo, the kid still supporting a slight redness on his cheeks. “Somehow, Enjin is the only one here that can make him talk.”
PLEASEEE continue snow storm im obsessed. maybe something with flambae accidentally getting the reader hurt and them being forced to talk? and then maybe frustratedly make out or smth
Hiii thanks for adding into the Snow Storm series! I love your idea so i had to take it for chapter two! Imma be real, i dont know how this fic will go but i am having fun writing Flambae and mayhaps i am leaning to making him a bottom cuz im a sucker for bratty bottom Flambae, but its all up to you readers!, so i hope you like this fic!
Snow Storm Pt.2
Flambae x male!Ex-Villain!Reader. Pt.1 // Pt. 3
Robert has been the Z-teams dispatcher for over a month now, and while you've grown closer with a lot of them, you can't seem to shake that annoying feeling that flares when Flambae meets your eyes. One mission, however, finally forces the two of you to confront each other head-on.
Tags: Flambae x male!reader, Flambae x Ex-Villain!reader, Blonde Blazer, Robert Robertson, The Z-Team, (still)OOC!Flambae, maybe, No use of Y/n, Suggestive, Make-out, confrontation, depiction of injury, non-graphic depiction of injury, Reader has Ice Powers, slight argument, no smut, slight fluff
Robert has surprised you in so many ways ever since he became the Z-teams' official dispatcher. The last few never lasted more than a day, always quitting on the spot once the next day rolled in, said ex-dispatcher would walk out of Blonde Blazers' office with daggers aimed at the team. You found the predicament amusing, especially when they try to leave with a threat in hand. They always held a grudge against the team, but it wasn't your fault; you were all dysfunctional freaks that trauma-bonded with one another.
You’ve always gravitated towards Prism ever since the start, but as the months went by, you've gotten closer to Coupe and Punch-up. Melevola, Sonar and Golem have also earned a spot on your hangout list. Even Invisigal, whom you had a rough start with, primarily because of her childish nature, has grown her own vines around you, somehow always going on coffee runs with you and finding interests in your hobbies.
Yet, despite knowing one man better than almost everyone in the group, there's one man you can barely stand; his mere presence brings an unease into your stomach.
You spend your time mostly in the SDN gym when the day starts. The gym is empty around the early hours of the shift, no one to hog your weights and machines, and since it's highly recommended by Blazer for any hero to use on their own, she always advocates for her employees' health after all.
The beat of your workout playlist accompanies you as you begin your third set on the bench press. You feel the blush backrest as your grip tightens around the bar, taking a deep breath in, before pushing it upwards. The burn of the weight is what you focus on, the world outside a blur as your eyesight is trained on the moving bar above you, careful not to awaken your powers unless you want the bar to slip from your hands. There was that familiar pain of a good workout coursing through your body, sweat running down your chest and back, having to regulate your breath, and a truly tranquil environment you can escape into.
Once you’ve finished the set, the metal sound of the bar hitting its resting point brings you back to reality. You sat up from the bench, wiping down your face with the towel sitting beside your phone and water bottle. It wasn't until you stood, water bottle a breath away from your lips, did you spotted an annoyingly familiar figure leaning on the weight racks.
“Flambae.” You greeted, sharp eyes regards him. The man has his arms crossed, that provoking smirk etched on his lips.
“Hey Stormy, long time no chat,” He begins to make his way towards you. You promptly turn to drink from your bottle, pausing your playlist with the other hand. Your once private workout session is now interrupted, you’re ready to clean up and head to the showers.
Flambae grabs one of the bigger weights from the dumbbell section. It was beyond you whether the man was about to show off or if it was truly his power that gave him the strength. He sits at an empty bench, easily curling said weight, looking up to where you caught yourself watching his muscles flex. “You don't miss talking to my handsome face?”
“I miss when I didn't have to talk to your ugly face.” You busy yourself with something irrelevant on your phone. “You’re not usually in this early.”
If the other comment didn't bother him, Flambae did not show it. Instead, he scoffs, dropping the weight onto the floor with a dull thud. “Can't a guy come in once in a while to work out–” he grunts.
“-Not that I need it, of course,”
You roll your eyes when you turn your back to him. “Then what? Came out here just to see me? ‘Cuz as you said, you don't need the workout,”
The clatter of the weight almost shook you, though you held your ground. Flambae clicks his tongue, undeniably annoyed at this point. “Oh, don't fatter yourself, Stormy, I could care–”
“Don't call me that.” Flambae stops, his brows furrowing at your words.
“What?”
“You’re not allowed to call me by that name, not since you left me.”
The room was deathly silent, not even the hum of the office outside, starting to fill up with employees, broke the palpable tension. You had to blink away the anger to let your ice shards melt before they even finished forming around your arm, and if you felt a sudden increase of heat from behind you, you refused to look around.
“Is that what all of this is about? Our ‘thing’ back then? Really?” You hear the man stand; the fabric of his leotard shifts as he moves. “You’re still sensitive about that? And I thought we were both adults here,”
“If you took a second to look past your goddamn bravado, you would realize that there's only one adult between us, and it isn't you.” You bite.
Another beat of silence, a sudden jolt of heat radiates behind you. You gulp, tightening your hold on your phone. “Just… Leave me alone outside of work, Flambae.”
You exit the gym, and a wave of exhaustion overcomes you. The intense feeling and the fatigue after a workout do not mix well. You begin to think of ways to avoid the man's presence, maybe moving your work out even earlier if the office allows it. A sigh leaves you as you begin walking to the shower rooms, getting ready to start the work day.
—
“I don't need a goddamn babysitter, Bob-bob!” Flambae shouts into the intercom, which almost made you want to mute the whole damn thing itself. “It’s a simple rescue mission from a goddamn forest fire! This job was practically made for me!”
“Yes, but there's a lot of hikers on this one, and while I know your skin doesn't burn, we normies do burn.” You were about to grab another can of energy drink before Robert continued. “So, I'm sending Snow Storm with you to clear a path.”
“I’m sorry?” You choke around the drink, wiping away the droplets from your lips.
“I think you two will be fitting for the mission, like I said, evacuate the hikers and use your specialty to make sure everyone gets out safe,” You hear the man type into his computer. “And try not to burn any more trees, Flambae,”
Flambae scoffs. “I’ll burn your goddamn house down, Robert,”
“Counting on it,” Robert deadpans. You could only sigh, throwing the can away as you began to secure the straps on your suit and shoes. The sudden burst of orange flies away from the SDN building, which reminds you of the partner you're currently assigned to. The pit inside your stomach bubbles, though you try to force it down in hopes the mission won't burn to a disastrous char.
You pushed yourself from the open balcony of the 2nd floor of the office, following Flambaes' flaming residue as he soars through the sky. Your powers allow you to push yourself off the ground, propelling yourself upwards with blasting freezing wind behind you. If the citizens below you feel a residue of melting snow, you just hope the kids find joy with it, and the rest won't be too burdened with it.
Flambae had arrived first before you land beside him, couching into your sleeves as flame surrounds both of you.
“I’ll put out some of the fires, you go find those hikers!”
“Don't tell me what to do, damnit!” Flambae pushes at your chest. You roll your eyes, grabbing his hand and pushing it right back to his sternum.
“Would you just fucking listen to me this one time?!” You shouted, the roaring flames bite around your body. “We don't have time for this shit, just go!”
A shout broke through the wall of fire, no doubt the trapped hikers. You groan, letting the man go and using your powers to make a safe walkway with snow. “The faster we find them, the less time we spend with each other!”
That was the last thing you told Flambae before you left him in favor of the hikers, your priority. Delving deeper into the burning forest, you found two of them hiding bellow a charred trunk. The relief they felt at your presence was extended towards you, glad to see the civilians safe. You extended another snowy path outside the fire's perimeter, careful to make sure the two are following you. When you finally exit the fire, you usher them outside to the waiting medics and firefighters before running back inside the forest. The thick smoke and high flame don't worry you, mainly because you're sure your powers would serve as enough shield if the fire doesn't spread any wider.
Making your way into the burning walls of wood, you squint your eyes as one hand continues to part the fire with your snow, the other covering your face from suffocating through the smoke. As you continue to walk and shout for any hope of a response, you spot Flambae flying away with a hiker in his arms. Relief runs through your heart, but not before hearing another shrill of help, at which you immediately shout back and head towards the voice. When you found the source of the shout, it was a mother and son, trying to push away the fire with a charred tree branch.
“I got you, ma’am! Stay put!” You immediately cover the flame around them with snow, ensuring their safety. They thank you profusely as you guide them outside, into the safety of the professionals.
“Is that all of them?” You check with one of the medical team, one of the hikers sitting at the edge of the ambulance, wrapped in a blanket.
“I think my friend is still in there!” He interjects before the medic can answer. You nod, immediately turning back to find said hiker.
You continue to clear a path, but the flame keeps fighting back, melting your snow easily, which requires you to force your powers into overdrive. You can feel the tips of your fingers tingly, the biting sensation of numbness you're familiar with. When you've used too much of your powers, your skin becomes vulnerable, like someone who's beginning to succumb to frostbite, sensitive to the smallest heat introduced to them. Though your priority is currently on the last survivor, at least you're hoping they are.
You've lost count of how much ground you've covered; the snow-covered path you're currently stepping on is the only indicator that you haven't gone in a circle. You cough into your jacket, the oxygen starting to deplete at a faster rate than you anticipated. Just as you were about to continue your search, Flambae lands beside you, a worried expression on him. The man must have caught you coughing earlier.
“I can continue the search on my own!” The crackle of fire is the only other thing you hear besides the man's shout.
“I’m fine! We need to cover as much ground as we can!”
“That’s what I'm saying! You can't continue, you’ll suffocate!” He insists, fire dancing within his eyes. You groan, turning around.
“I told you I'm fine, fuck! Why do you suddenly care, huh?! I don't need you to–”
“I can fucking lose you like this!” Flambae grabs your hand, and an immediate surge of pain flares up your arm. Like a million biting ants have crawled up from your palm and spread through your entire left arm.
“Shit!” You shout as you pull away from Flambae's grip, clutching your burnt hand. “My goddamn– Fucking forget it, Flambae!”
“You only care about me when I'm about to fucking die? When we are supposed to focus on saving a civilian's life? Some selfless prick you are!” Your words dig daggers into Flambaes' core, even if they are invisible. “Fuck off and find the damn guy!”
The last thing you wear was the man taking off as you turn back to continue your snow path into the flames. A couple of meters into the fire, there was another shout for help, which you immediately head to, replying every time to better locate the person. They were surrounded by a circle of burning wood when you found them, immediately extinguishing the flames. He thanks you as you rush outside the forest fire and hand them over to the medic team.
You were talking to one of the medical team, briefing you on the number of casualties and how many need urgent care when Flambae approaches. You were about to thank the medic for the information before they pointed at your left palm, the burn marks visible now without smoke surrounding it. “Oh my god, that looks– That's a very bad burn,”
“Please, take these!” He pushes a bottle of ibuprofen and a roll of bandages into your arms. “There isn't anything better I can give you, is it–”
“It’s okay, sir, my powers allow my skin to heal from frostbite, but the uh…” You glance down at the angry red marks that scar your skin. “I must have gotten too close to the fire; it’ll heal on its own.”
The medic regards you with concern, though he puts his faith in you. You nod as you look and take in the surroundings, multiple ambulances scattered around, and as you look behind you, a lot of choppers have already started raining down water, and if your vision doesn't fail you, Waterboy is in one of said choppers, expelling more water than you've ever seen. Robert must have sent the man as part of the clean-up crew, which you're grateful for, since your injured palm won't be much help.
Between the people tending to the wounded and firefighters securing the area, you found your eyes gravitating towards Flambae’s who was standing far from you. Despite the crowd, you can't help but find his worried eyes between them, his brows furrow as his eyes travel from yours, down to your hand. You watch his expression turn from concern to regret in real time, awakening that once forgotten knot within you. You tear yourself away from the man's gaze, angling yourself to soar away from the people as you've finished your primary mission, forgetting whether Flambae will be following or not.
—
The locker room was empty when you walked out of the showers. The Z-team’s shift has ended, and another mostly successful day has been added to the records. You said your farewells to the boys when they began filing out of the locker room. Sonar had invited you out for drinks, but you needed some private time to clear the smoke in your head, so you declined. The half-bat pouted, but with your promise to join him next time, he pats your shoulder before exiting the room.
That's how you found yourself sitting on the bench in nothing but a towel around your hips, your locker wide open, your hero suit hanging within, the slight burn marks looking back at you as a reminder. Though said reminders are unnecessary when you have a larger, more prominent mark on your left palm. You knew you should've adorned your gloves instead of leaving them behind, but you hate how the fabric felt against your skin, especially since you haven't upgraded them to be able to withstand heat, unlike your skin, which has a built-in shield against it. Though once you've exhausted your powers, said shield bites back against you.
You let your head hang, droplets of water slide down your hair as the tiles of the locker room gain your interest. The prominent fatigue claws at your muscles, and when you glance back at your slowly healing palm, it fuels the slight anger within you. Speaking of anger, the man who's responsible for your injury has arrived.
Flambae drops his bag to the floor, meters away from you, as he scratches the back of his neck. “I uh… Are you… Okay?”
You scoff. “Peachy.”
“Oh you didn't need to– Listen, I'm just checkin’ up, alright?” He rolls his eyes, annoyance always hanging on each of his sentences. “After that damn fire and your uh… Hand,”
“Oh, this old thing? I’ll be fine in a day or two, it heals quick.” You snap back, inhaling deeply to regulate yourself.
“What are you so pissed about? We got a job well done!” He raises his voice before abruptly cutting himself off. “It’s just– I'm sorry, okay? For your uh- hand…”
You chuckle, sarcasm drips from your tone. You find yourself standing, finally having the energy to face the man. The fact that he has his hair down slightly surprises you, igniting that annoying feeling once again, before promptly shaking it away. “You’re sorry? For my hand?”
“Is that all you had to say? Just about my hand?” Your tone is clipped as you take a step towards him. You disregarded the sudden change of temperature in the room as you sneer. “After all of that, all of this, you're sorry about my goddamn hand?”
“You know what I mean!”
“Then tell me with your own goddamn words, coward!”
The next thing you registered was the man’s hand at your sides, pushing you against the lockers as they rattle angrily, his lips merely inches away from yours. “P-Please… listen to me,”
You gulp, a shiver runs down your spine as you steel yourself. You nod once, allowing him to continue. “I… I was scared. I could've lost you, back then,”
“I’m so shit with this whole– feelings bullshit! I just… I couldn't lose you, I–” You follow his tongue as it runs across his lips, a prominent blush starting to show itself on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, for– for leaving you, for treating you like shit, for your scars,”
“I don't want to be like that anymore. Please let me be better,” He huffs. You feel his heat against your skin, temptation against your senses. It’s like the man finally registers just how little distance is between you two as he visibly shakes, lips almost prodding yours. “Can I kiss you?”
A beat of silence, before– “How can I say no to you?”
His lips press into yours, you immediately find a path to tangle between his strands of black hair. Flambae kisses like a starved man, gulping down each push and pull you grace him, drinking in your sounds as he releases his own. You felt the man relinquish his initial lead, which you took the chance to slip your tongue into his mouth, smirking around the groan he whispers. He tightens his hold around your hips, brushing his legs against yours, at which you softly push at his chest. Surprisingly, the man yields, pulling back with heavy eyes, burning ambers within them.
“I’m… I’m surprised you could even say sorry. How out of character.” You smirk, which makes Flambae groan.
“You’re ruining the–” You stop him with another kiss, promptly silencing him, which makes you chuckle.
“But,” You continue. “It’ll take a while for me to forgive you,”
He huffs, a visible pout on his lips. “What, do you want me to beg? Is that it?”
You chuckle, raking your fingers through his strands. “While that would be entertaining…”
“How about you start by actually talking to me?” He blinks, and another surge of blush goes through his face. He coughs into his shoulder, turning away with squinted eyes.
“Y-yeah I can do that–” He clears his throat once again, earning an arched brow from you. “How about a uh… Dinner with me? Tomorrow?”
“I’ll talk, like for real. And I won't leave you, I promise.” He nods.
You find yourself smiling, brushing your knuckles against his cheek, before cupping the man's jaw. Flambae’s eyes flutter before he nudges at your palm, and a sharp eye glares at you. You were not familiar with this side of the man, almost a shy demeanor hidden behind his bratty facade. It both scares you and intrigues you. “Okay, dinner sounds nice.”
And just as you were interested in his shyness, it disappears as quickly as it came. “Of course it sounds nice, you’re going out with me,”
“After all, who could resist?” He smirks, brushing back his fringe. You groan, easily pushing him away as you walk back to your locker, starting to gather your belongings.
“Go home, Flambae,” You smirk, watching as the man relents and grabs his bag from the floor, slinging it around his body.
“I'm going, I’m going,” He chuckles. Just as you hear the door to the room open, you hear Flambae’s last sentence. “But uh– You should probably take care of that,”
“Of what–” You glance around before your eyes drop to your crotch, a prominent tent peaking from the thin layer of towel you wrapped around yourself. “Shit!”
Flambae watches from the door as you fumble around your locker, finding god-knows-what items to save your shredded dignity. “What can I say, I'm irresistible,”
“Oh fuck off,” You groan, accepting defeat as he finally leaves the room, allowing silence and solitude to grace you once more. You groat, sitting down on the bench once more, replaying the events that had just happened. The jolt of Flambaes' lips against yours can still be felt, reminding you of what's to come in the future, and if the man keeps his word, it might allow you to finally learn much more from him.
Now it was a matter of choice: relieving yourself in the shower or waiting for the erection to settle down by itself. You sigh, glancing back at your hero suit, the small patches of soot and grime showing themselves in front of the blue and white colors of it.
i have a request, feel free to ignore if ur not up for it!
Waterboy x reader (gn, male, any will do!!), where the reader is half mermaid half human. Basically they have a human form, but only for like 10 minutes, they need water, otherwise they turn back into a mermaid and suffocate bc they need water to breath😔 (so they practically hit a jackpot that is waterboy)
maybe the reader has some siren blood so they’re lowkey a petty criminal that lures guys in to get what they want
i dont mind what happens😛 thank youu
Hiiiii i absolutely love your idea so i had to write it. Reader is a bit more uh… evil than i intended, i hope you dont mind btw :( i tried my best to encapsulate this fic into something concise and small unlike my other fics, tho i hope you liked this!
Sirens
Waterboy x M!Reader
All your life, you've been cursed with the power of charm at the expense of your mobility. It was annoying at best, only able to carry so many water bottles before it looked suspicious, but it wasn't your fault; without them, you were basically a flopping fish. Sure, you had the voice to control and manipulate others to do your bidding, but it always comes with a cost, both mentally of physically. It wasn't until you entered the Phoenix programme and met Waterboy did your curse started to feel like a blessing.
Tags: Waterboy x m!Reader, Waterboy x reformed!Reader, Invisigal, Sonar, Prism, Robert Robertson, established relationship, suggestive, no smut, fluff no smut, pet names, usage of pet names, kink in negotiation, slight praise kink, Reader has Siren Powers, Robert tired of another HR violation, Herm being the best baby boy he is, can yall tell i kinda dont like visi oops
“Why’d you get to hog our resident water dispenser?” Visi crosses her arms, catching you off guard just as you pass the changing room doors. Her sharp eyes analyze your suit, taking in the multiple water tubes that function as small sprinklers around your neck. “Don't you already have those things to keep you moist?”
Your brow raises, a smirk on your lips. “Well, I’m sorry, do you turn into a half-fish-half-man thing whenever you're dry? I don't think so.”
“But you don't need him all the time,” She insists.
“If you want a chance to make out with him too, just tell me Visi, don't need to be shy,” The girl chuckles, as she rolls her eyes. The team is familiar with your display of affection, especially after a particularly grueling mission.
“No thanks, I’d rather drink my water from a cup.”
“Suit yourself,” You shrug as you walk past her. You spot Herm standing between Sonar and Prism as the group converses, though he is invested in whatever the group is debating about. His eyes light up when he spots you making your way to him.
“Hi, baby, ready for our mission?” You grin, looping an arm around his middle, the lanky man an immediate jumble of red and sweat as he looks between his friends and you.
“Y-yea-yes! I’m uh- re…ad-dy… b-babe…” He manages, a shaky hand rests on your nape. It’s become a habit at this point; his palm always gravitates to your exposed skin to ease your visible scales. You preen at his touch, leaning into Herm’s side.
“Go ahead you two, don't let us keep your water bottle away,” Prism smiles, waving as she walks away with Sonar in tow. Herm manages a hesitant wave, a small smile on his lips.
He turns to face you, a grin on his lips. “S-shall we go uh- now?”
You lean into his touch as you both begin walking outside the office, Robert in the earpiece to brief on the upcoming mission.
—
“You didn't really need to do all of that to the poor guy, Siren.” Robert’s done is straight; you can imagine the deadpan face he currently has. You shrug, turning to face the one camera the dispatcher must be looking from.
“Well, if he didn't knock out Waterboy’s legs at the start, I wouldn't have to charm him to sleep.” You roll your eyes, watching your boyfriend secure the rope around the criminal's arms. The said man was still blinking away your charm, his glassy eyes slowly focusing, his head lolling side to side.
“All we need is the information on the shipment for tonight,” Roberts' voice crackles. “We need to secure those drugs before they spread through Torrance,”
“I got it,” You smirk, turning around to face the thug. Waterboy stands to the side, his arms fisted to his sides, a mask of bravery you highly appreciate. He watches as you stand before the criminal, a dangerous grin on your lips, hands on your hips as you watch the man gather himself.
Herm hears you clear your throat before you wink towards him; immediately, a blush blooms across his face. You chuckle as you finally focus on the sitting thug. “Hi there sweet. I didn't knock you out too hard, did I?”
The criminal groans, blinking as your voice smoothes over his weary head. “Wh-what? No… you didn't– I’m fine,”
You chuckle, knowing your spell has already taken root within his brain. The man had already feigned his dizziness, hiding behind the manly bravado. “Good, good. Listen here, babe, you wanna be a darling and answer this one question for me?”
“O-oh yeah– yeah! Of course! Anything for you!” His initial daze finally subsides, now replaced with immediate excitement to please. You chuckle, grabbing the man's jaw to hold him closer.
“Tell me, where can I get my hands on Toxins' new drugs, hm?”
“T-Toxic? Shrouds bitch? Isn't he–”
“No, no, no, you dumb–” Your hand surges to wrap around the man's throat. “–Fuck. I said Toxin, with an N? The drug lord?”
He chokes around your hand, though his eyes are still clouded by your spell. “R-right– yes! That Toxin, yeah I know!”
You release the man's throat, letting him cough the oxygen back into his burning lungs. You allow him the moment of respite before arching a brow at him, expecting him to continue.
“Ye-yeah he uh– the shipment will be at Long Beach, then they'll transport it here through the underground drug rings,” He grins, which immediately irks you. “If you want, I can show you–”
“No, that’ll be all, pet, you’re no use for me now.” A sharp grin etched on your lips before promptly pulling your fist back and delivering a heavy blow to the man's jaw. He’s knocked out cold, head drooping down. You smile, turning to Herm, who immediately takes to your side.
His hand reaches for the one you punched the guy with, gloved fingers soothing over the reddened knuckles. He presses his lips against said angry marks, eyes firmly meeting yours, though they flutter shortly before pulling back. “Y-you’re okay– alright, right?” He smiles sheepishly.
You grin as your embrace is palm. “Never better baby.”
“Alright, wrap it up you two, before Blazer gets a whiff of this and it’ll be another HR violation to add to our monthly ones,” Robert interrupts into the earpiece. “We’ve got the info, clean-up crew is on the way,”
“Good job, you two,” He ends the comm line, and a small click into the mic is heard. You sigh, wiping away the sweat from the fight earlier as you look around the place. The old apartment is abandoned, with cobwebs on the corners of the room, random boxes stacked on top of one another. You were about to suggest returning to SDN when you felt Herm wrap his arms around your middle, leaning his head on top of yours.
“Uh– Waterboy?”
“You’ve been too hot– dry for too uh– long,” He mumbles. “Just uh– worried!”
His embrace tightens, at which you chuckle. He’s well aware your hydro-pumps would spray their mists around your scales when needed, but you do appreciate his attention to your condition. You grin, turning around to press a kiss to his cheek, patting said cheek afterwards. “Thank you, baby,”
“Now let’s get outta here before I get the urge to kill the guy,” You nod towards the unconscious man. Herm huffs before he follows you out of the building and makes your way back to headquarters.
—
Evening has rolled around when you and Herm finish your last mission. It was a group mission accompanied by Coupe and Punch Up, retrieving a stolen painting from a highly renowned collector. In all honesty, you couldn't be bothered to entertain the mission, but with the addition of the assassin and the strong-man, it would be too entertaining not to join them. Robert appreciates the volunteer, which is also another brownie point gained.
You and Herm are the last ones in the building; every other hero and employee had left or cleaned up earlier than the two of you. You waved goodbye to all of your friends and snickered slightly when you saw Robert flying away in Blazer's arms. Currently, you’re drying your hair on one of the locker room seats, rubbing a dry towel around your hair appropriately. Herm has his wetsuit tied around his waist, the man in question gulping down water as he stands in front of his locker.
There was a moment of silence before Herm broke it with a short cough. “You– Earlier you were uh– it was a good mission with the– that drug guys,”
You hum with curiosity, glancing over to your boyfriend. “Yeah, we did great huh,”
“Y-yeah! Just uh… You were– uhm…”
You watch as his shaky digits close the cap to his water bottle, suddenly turning away from facing you. You tilt your head, a slow smirk forming on your lips.”I was…?”
“Y–you talked– talk to that guys, wasn't like the uh… the way you– you talk to me,” The sentence slowly shifts to a whisper.
You stand and begin to approach him, letting the towel around your waist slightly loosen. “Oh baby, was it the pet names I used?”
“I’m so sorry, it's the way I used to get into their heads, but I know it's no excuse to–”
“No! No, i m-mean uh im…” He entwines his fingers with yours when you're in his reach, both surprising you and sending you a jolt of excitement. “Y-you said–called them… pet and I…”
“Can I… be that? Be your pet?”
You blinked. The dots connect themselves, shining brightly as a myriad of ideas speed through your brain. Once you compose yourself, you spread your palm against his chest, pushing Herm slightly to the lockers. “Is that what this is? That's what you were thinking about this whole time?”
“You want to be more than my good boy, Herm? You wanna be my good pet?”
Herm visibly shivers as he finds purchase on your hips, shaky hands rubbing at your sides. He nods, meeting your eyes with determination behind them, the fair blush on his cheeks now a deep crimson. You smirk as you arch into his space, lips inches away as you feel Herms' shaky exhale.
“Now that is something we need to discuss at home,” You tease as you abruptly pull away, turning back to grab your clothes and hastily put them on. Herm was a blushing mess when you glance back, before you continue. “So grab your stuff, and we’re heading straight to the bedroom.”
“Y-Yes, yes s-sir!” The giddiness in his tone almost sends you toppling with laughter, though your excitement wins instead. Once Herm has secured his items in his duffle bag, you feel him hold your hand without his usual gloves, letting his powers touch your skin. You never miss his attentiveness, even when you try to prioritize his wants, always eager to please you.
You and your boyfriend exit the SDN building, eager to continue the night's plans later in the comfort of your home.
