So I went and wrote the fic I was looking in one of my previous posts. Taking place prior to episode 5, but besides that nothing else is important.
MDNI / 18+ / Word Count: 1.1k / This is just pure smut IDK what else to write like the doc I wrote in is just named "Bricked"
Flambae’s hands trailed up along scarred hips, pressing them firmly against the mattress. He let his jaw relax as he took the remainder of the other’s dick into his mouth, nose pressing against the patch of hair above it. Robert’s hand reached up to comb his fingers through Flambae’s hair, hips instinctually jerking up against the hands that held him down.
Robert couldn’t help the breathy laugh that pulled from his lips, “If I realized it’d be this easy to shut you up-” his breath caught in his throat as Flambae bobbed his head, “Fuck I’d have said we do this ages ago.”
A gloved hand groped at Flambae’s bare ass, the other trailing down along his spine before he felt something slick prodding at the tight ring of muscles. Flambae tried to sit up quickly, spluttering and coughing as he pulled his mouth away from Robert, much to Robert’s disappointment, to look over his shoulder that sparked in surprise. The hand on his back pressed down harder to keep him in place.
“Tsk. Cool down a bit, why don’t ya?” The voice was rough and Flambae recognized it almost immediately.
“Fuck off-” Flambae snaps out of habit.
His suspicions were confirmed from the look over his shoulder. Mecha Man stood behind him, front of his suit fully unzipped, resembling the deep V of Flambae’s own suit, and it didn’t take long for him to realize it was Mecha Man’s dick that was now pressing into him. Flambae let out a hiss that whistled between the gap in his teeth at the sting. His head fell forward, pressing against Robert’s inner thigh as he gasped and groaned, trying to adjust to the slightly unexpected penetration. He didn’t even remember that Mecha Man was back there, but fuck he wasn’t complaining right now. Mecha Man reached forward and grabbed a handful of Flambae’s hair and yanked his head up away from Robert’s thigh so his face was level with Robert’s dick once again, pulling a sharp, needy whine from his throat.
“Don’t leave him hanging now. You were doing so good for a second there don’t fuck this up too.” Mecha Man coos at him, mockingly.
Robert’s hand cupped Flambae’s face, his thumb stroking his cheek as he looked down at him expectantly, his brow raised. Flambae’s face flushed, but he didn’t hesitate to do as requested. He leaned forward, licking a stripe along the underside of Robert’s dick before taking the tip in his mouth. Robert rolls his hips up trying to press deeper into Flambae’s mouth. Flambae was quick to respond, taking his length fully in his mouth.
“There you go, taking it so well.” Robert grunts.
Mecha Man started to pick up the pace from behind, hips snapping hard against Flambae’s ass. The bed creaked beneath the three of them with the increase in speed and as Flamabae began to rock back and forth to meet Mecha Man’s thrusts on the backwards movement and fully deepthroat Robert’s not so tiny little peen on the forward movement. His tongue was almost burning hot as it swirled around the tip for a moment before resuming the steady pace he had set before. Robert’s hands gripped tightly at Flambae’s scalp as he felt his stomach twist in that familiar sensation of an incoming orgasm as Flambae muffled his own moans around his dick. Mecha Man was relentless in his thrusting, having found Flambae’s prostate and choosing to abuse the spot. Flambae’s back arches, small sparks flickering along the expanse of his bar back, causing any lingering sweat to evaporate.
“Chad- ah fuck- I’m gonna-” Robert wasn’t able to finish his sentence before shoving Flambae’s head down and holding him there as he came down his throat.
Flambae’s head spun at the sound of Robert moaning his name like that. Fuck he didn’t even remember telling him his name, but god did it sound good when he said it like that. He almost felt like he could have cum just from that. Mecha Man reached an arm around Flambae’s chest and pulled him up onto his knees. Robert’s head was tilted back as he struggled to catch his breath for a short moment before he crawled forward to catch Flambae in an open mouthed kiss. His hands trailed along Flambae’s chest as his tongue pressed deeper into his mouth. Mecha Man leaned his head against Flambae’s neck before alternating between biting and sucking hard bruises along the curve of his neck. The faint smell of smoke hardly registered in Flambae’s pleasure riddled brain. Mecha Man’s rhythm finally began to falter, he groaned into Flambae’s ear as he pressed his hips flush to his ass and came. Flambae rolled his hips back against Mecha Man with a desperate whine.
“Don’t stop fucker.” He hisses, trying to regain any of the friction he was receiving before.
Robert leaned back out of the way, giving the space for Mecha Man to shove Flambae forward, pressing him firmly against the mattress. The noise that came from Flambae’s mouth was obscene, short, high pitched, and honestly obnoxious. His brows furrowed in confusion as the sound seemed to continue from somewhere outside himself. As much as he tried to focus on the tightening knot in his stomach, the piercing noise wouldn’t leave him alone.
Flambae shot up in bed, sunlight flowing in through the open blinds. His head darted around, blinking frantically as that high pitched beeping noise followed him out of the dream.
“What the fuck-” Finally his gaze picked up on the smoke from beside him. “Oh fucker,” he curses.
He yanked his hand away from the flame slowly curling along the wrinkles of the sheets. More curses flowed from his mouth as he smacked at the fire to extinguish it. Blankets were thrown to the side as he got to his feet, waving at the screaming smoke detector. After a minute of waving away smoke and cracking open a window the room finally fell silent. Flambae looked down at himself, feeling his face flush a deep red as he realized that he was rock hard despite waking up mere minutes ago.
“Did I really just fucking- about fucking Bob-Bob and FUCKING Mecha Man are you kidding me!” A pillow flung across the room, hitting the wall with a harmless thump.
In that moment, as if to add insult to injury, buried somewhere in the sheets, Flambae’s alarm started blaring signaling what was supposed to be the start of his day. A day that would be filled with the voice of Robert Robertson the fucking third in his ear for the entire shift. It was a day like today that had Flambae wishing his costume left just a little more to the imagination.
Idea from THIS post by @ka-mi006 (hope you don't mind me expanding on it. These two make me ill <3
Ship: Flambert / Word Count: 1.9k / discussion of injuries & blood (not super in depth but still happens
Flambae lowers down to the ground besides the mech suit, knocking on the chest. “Open up Mecha Dick, job’s all done no thanks to you,” his tone was lighthearted and teasing as he crossed his arms, waiting for the suit to open and reveal Robert’s stupid smug face.
Flambae’d seen Robert get knocked around during the fight a bit, but he’d handled far worse so in theory there was no reason to be this worried, then again why wasn’t he saying anything.
His still smoldering foot kicks that of the mech, “Bitch are you ignoring me,” Flambae knocks on the chest again, harder this time with a huff of smoke from his nose. “If you don’t say something I’m going to pry this suit open like a fucking tuna can,”
The suit slumped slightly, letting out a loud creaking and scraping noise as the front panel tried to open, managing only about half way. Parts of the hull were crushed in around Robert, the most noticeable being the panel jutting out from the wall of the mech into Robert’s side. How the fuck was the suit wrecked from the inside out like this. (this doesn’t need to make sense I just want him fucked up) Flambae’s hands flare up as he reaches out to pry the panel open the rest of the way.
“Fuck fuck fuck Robert hey say something-”
His hands fumble with the seat belt holding Robert in the suit, the fabric beside his hand scorched and snapped, releasing him none the less. Flambae goes to wrap his arms around Robert and pull him out of the suit, but stops halfway hearing the hiss of pain and sharp intake of air from Robert and feeling him squirm away from him. He yanks his hands away, the sharp chemically smell of melting spandex burning his nostrils.
The only words from Robert between short shuttering breaths was, “Too hot”
Robert’s eyes were squeezed shut, head pressed back against the crushed head rest, creating a fresh smear of blood from the back of his head. Flambae shakes his hands trying to get the flames to go out, cursing as they only seemed to crawl up his arms further, growing brighter and hotter. His eyes dart around, first reaching for the pockets on his suit, empty as they always were when he was on the clock so as not to overheat his phone every time he flew. He was at a loss, brain struggling to come up with a solution in that moment as he watched the blood beginning to coat Robert’s hand that pressed against his side around the metal. Panic clouded his senses, leaving Flambae unable to register the soft sizzling coming from his cheeks as tears dripped from his eyes only to evaporate almost immediately. Something finally clicks in Flambae’s head as he watches the pressure of Robert’s hand lessen before falling limp against his stomach, his fingers find the ear piece, clumsily pressing until he heard the familiar click meaning someone could hear him on the other side. The crackle of the fire engulfing his hands and sparking along his shoulders muffled his voice, making his pleas almost inaudible.
“What the fuck are you trying to say Flambae?” Chase’s voice cracks through the ear piece as the fill in dispatcher for Robert. “can’t hear you over the god damn bonfire you got going on right now”
“Robert’s down! I can’t touch the fucker!” Flambae yells to be heard over his own crackling fire.
His head darts back as he hears voices from behind him as people start to gather. He could vaguely hear Chase barking orders over the coms, but his brain couldn’t work out what he was saying. His chest heaved with each breath, he stood in front of Robert, the flames unintentionally blowing out the exposure on the cameras of prying civilians leaving the intended subject obscured in shadows. There was a ripping sound accompanied by the faint pink glow signifying Malevola’s arrival.
“Oh shit mate,”
Malevola uses her sword to cut the protruding metal, leaving an ample amount to remove later, but allowing Robert to be removed from the mech. She carefully pulls Robert from the mech before ripping open a new portal and rushing through leaving Flambae alone with the now empty mech. He wanted so badly to have gone after them, but he would only make things so much worse. How is he meant to help if he can’t even extinguish himself? More pain is the only thing he could offer right now. Someone needs to stay with the mech, that’s how he can help, but even that, he can’t move it right now. Royd already has his work lined up for him trying to fix this, he shouldn’t make it worse. Flambae paces back and forth, he felt his body getting hotter and hotter despite his best efforts to cool down. It seemed like no time at all until other Z-Team members arrived on the scene. Sonar, in his bat form, dropped down, allowing Prism to slide off his back, his attention quickly turning to the mech suit that he was sent to retrieve.
Prism stood in front of Flambae, “Bae, hey,” Her voice was soothing as she stepped towards him, “He’s in good hands now, they’re gonna patch him up and knowing him he’ll be trying to work again in like two days.”
Flambae took a step back, he had too much pent up energy in that moment, ready to dart. Sure they’ve seen Robert be blown up and be back at work not even twenty-four hours later, but eventually things could catch up and be that final straw. What if this was it? That damn family tradition of dying in that suit could be coming to fruition finally for all they knew.
“We’ve got things covered here, go-”
Flambae didn’t hear the end of her sentence before he was launching into the air, needing some kind of release. He soared straight up, leaving a flaming tail in his wake. There was no flair to his path, just a straight line through the sky in an attempt to burn himself out. It was several hours before he came back to the ground outside of SDN. By the time he was done it was dark out and he stood there silently for a long minute. Flambae sighs deeply, glancing himself over for any lingering flames before pushing open the doors. Exhaustion weighed heavy on his body, a small comfort in the back of his head, knowing he could do less harm without his usual energy to pull from. He didn’t acknowledge anyone working the evening shift at SDN, making his way towards the infirmary, peering through each window until he found exactly who he was looking for. The sight was becoming far too familiar, Robert was slightly propped up, the lower half of his torso and everything below was covered by a blanket, several small wires and tubes were attached to him one way or another. Flambae pushes open the door, carefully closing it behind him to ensure it didn’t make a noise. He pulls a nearby chair over and sits down besides Robert, staring down at him in silence, taking in the bandages that covered his bare upper torso.
“Fuck-” Flambae mutters, feeling tears begin to well up in the corner of his eyes actually being able to fall down his face as his fist clenched and unclenched in his lap.
He wanted so desperately to reach out, pull Robert against him and just never let go, but his eyes lingered on the bandages that wrapped around Robert’s shoulders where Flambae had melted his suit trying to get him out. Even if he had no proof, Robert had all sorts of new scrapes and bruises from that last fight, he knew deep down that he was responsible for the injuries that lie underneath. He was hit with that same smell of burning chemicals melting spandex from his attempts of pulling Robert from the mech suit. He’s seen how certain fabrics can stick and rip at skin and he can only imagine the added pain he put Robert through because of it. Flambae jumps at the feeling of a cool hand resting on his own, he hadn’t heard Robert move, too lost in his own thoughts. His hand yanks back and he immediately feels guilty at the hurt expression muddling with Robert’s groggy thoughts. Robert’s hand awkwardly hovers above where Flambae’s hand was moments ago.
“Chad?” Robert pulls his hand back to brace himself as he starts to push up into a sitting position.
Flambae’s hand immediately shot out to stop him, planted firmly against his chest, “Don’t- Can’t you sit still damn it,”
Robert settles back into the bed, grabbing Flambae’s hand, forcing him to intertwine their fingers. “Your hand’s cold,” They weren’t really, compared to any other person’s hands temperature they were just fine, but for Flambae who always ran so hot, it was cold.
Flambae grunts in response, his gaze focused somewhere off to the side, but he squeezed Robert’s hand. He took slow, deep, deliberate breaths to keep himself cool, to keep Robert safe. Safe from him, obviously.
Robert stares at him and sighs, tugging Flambae’s hand across himself to pull him closer so he could instead grab Flambae’s face with both hands, forcing him to look at him. “You’re not gonna sit in here and just mope. What’re you thinking about?”
Flambae had just barely gotten himself to stop crying before the waterworks started up again. It wasn’t a lot, not an ugly cry, but fat tears built in his eyes before rolling down his face, “I couldn’t help you- I just- Couldn’t touch you- I burnt you. You were hurt and instead of helping I burnt you and your suit and all I could do was watch as everyone else had to clean up what happened.”
Robert shrugs slightly, “I’m still here aren’t I?” Flambae nods slowly against Robert’s hands, “And you’ve burnt me half a dozen times since we’ve met, what difference does that make?”
“I didn’t mean to. I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t do anything but make it worse-”
“I made it to the infirmary didn’t I?” Flambae nods again still with the look of someone who watched their puppy be kicked, “How did I get here if you didn’t drag my sorry ass in?”
“Malevola got you, Sonar took the mech,”
“Mhm, and how did they know I got hurt?”
“Chase sent them after I told him.”
“So you did help. You weren’t fit for the job at that moment, but you got people who could help. I sure as hell wasn’t doing that for myself so you filled in.”
“But-”
“Chad.” Robert didn’t even let him finish his thought, “You did help me, there’s more ways to help than physically dragging me away from a fight and you did the right thing.” Robert pulls Flambae closer, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before letting him pull back to a more comfortable position, though he didn’t let go of his face.
“You’re the one in the hospital bed and somehow I’m still getting the fucking pep talk.” Flambae chuckles, shaking his head lightly.
“Well maybe if you stop pitying yourself you wouldn’t need a pep talk. Heroes get hurt, it's part of the job.”
“Not the good ones.”
“Oh shut up-” Robert yanks him down into another kiss to avoid being sassed a little longer.
Warm hands cupped Robert’s face and he couldn’t help but melt knowing he managed to get Flambae out of his head for the time being at least.
Imagine if Flambae finds Robert injured or passed out and goes into a frenzy, realizing he's running way too hot, literally on fire, and isn't able to touch Robert.
The panic he'd feel, wanting to help but unable to, desperately trying to control his flames enough so that he won't hurt Robert.
The more he tries to calm down, the more scared he feels, as he watches Robert's head loll to the side, his breathing becoming shallow. Flambae is having a literal panic attack, feeling like he's being tortured, because he's right there and can't do anything. He can't even use his phone to call for help, because he'll just melt it.
He's utterly paralyzed, crying even though his tears evaporate immediately, and doesn't get put out until hours later, after someone else finally finds them and takes Robert swiftly to the hospital.
And Flambae is crying and crying, feeling so very sorry, feeling such self-loathing. He's afraid to touch Robert for days afterward, worried that he's still running too hot, his emotions all over the place.
And Robert, as soon as he's awake, is reaching for Flambae, hazy and confused when Flambae pulls away.
Something about any kind of interaction on tumblr has 10x more meaning than any other social media. Like 20 likes on tumblr feels like a lot compared to something like insta or tiktok. Get me a reblog and I'm giddy, one with tags commenting on the post and Im on cloud 9.
I'm the writer here so I get to choose how cheesy and self indulgent the fics are and I wanted a good ol' sick fic so here we go.
Ship: Flambert / Word Count: 1.5k
Robert knocks on the door to the apartment, once, twice, three times with no response before using a spare key to let himself in. No one had heard from Flambae since last night despite numerous texts and phone calls mainly from Prism, but from other members of the Z-Team as well trying to figure out where the flaming hero had run off to. The main reason Robert had been suckered into checking his apartment and not Prism who literally lived down the hall from Flambae was due to the fact that she had a date. Robert sensed some ulterior motives on Prism’s part, but when the key was shoved into his hand and she ran off he wasn’t left in a position to argue. His eyes take in the cozy richly colored decor of the apartment illuminated by a singular lamp that had been left on and the orange glow of the setting sun streaming in through the large windows.
“Flambae are you home?” Robert calls into the quiet house, listening to the silence of the apartment as his only response.
He made his way further into the apartment, checking the side rooms of the apartment with a light knock prior to opening the door. It was when Robert pushed open what he assumed to be Flambae’s bedroom door that he managed to find the other man. The opening of the door greeted him with a small rush of heat as he took in the view of the other man. He seemed to be asleep, hair loose and sprawled out on the mattress around him. He was wearing only a loose fitting cropped black tank top and a pair of orange boxers. A thin sheet was tangled around his legs as if he had made a half assed attempt at kicking it off in his sleep. Beside his bed a fan was pointed directly at him on full blast which worked to dissipate the mist of evaporating sweat. Robert stepped closer, staring silently at the man for a moment until he heard the sound of him breathing, and saw the rise and fall of his chest. He reached into his pocket for his phone, sending Prism a quick text, ‘found him’ and ‘still alive.’ His phone was quickly shoved back into his pocket as his other hand grasped Flambae’s shoulder, which was surprisingly hot even for the man’s unnaturally high body temperature, to nudge him awake.
“Flambae,” his nudging was met with a groan and a shiver from Flambae as he rolled onto his side. “What is up with you today?” Robert rolls his eyes slightly, his hand reaching up to press against Flambae’s forehead. In what was meant to be a joke he asked, “Are you sick or something?” but the way Flambae’s head turned to press into the back of Robert’s cool hand had him second guessing if it was really a joke.
Finally Flamabe opened his eyes, acknowledging Robert’s for the first time since he entered the apartment. He squinted at him, brain struggling to process what he was seeing even as he pressed his face against Robert’s hand.
“How the fuck d’you get in my place, Bob Bob?”
“Prism gave me her key since you’ve been ignoring everybody’s texts.” Robert pulls his hand away which earned a noise from Flambae that was far too earnest and far too upset at the lack of contact.
Flambae clumsily reached for Robert who didn’t seem to notice as he stepped away from the bed. Robert left the room, making his way back to the kitchen. He went through the cabinets until he managed to find the glasses. Grabbing the largest cup from the cabinet he filled it with water and ice and grabbed a dish towel and soaking it with the coldest water the tap had to offer. He returned to Flambae’s room to find the other man had sat up, leaning against the bed’s headboard and was now staring at Robert as he returned, his cheeks noticeably flushed pink.
“What’re you doing?”
“You look like shit,” Robert offers the glass of water to Flamabe. “Its like a fucking sauna in here with how much you’re sweating jesus-” Flambae stared at him suspiciously, trying to figure out what was happening. “Take the glass.”
Another shiver runs down Flambae’s spine as he grabs the glass, the condensation sizzling from his touch. “Is Alice bribing you to fuck with me right now?” His words were slow as his brain felt two seconds from melting out of his ears. He looked down at the glass in his hands before he chugged the whole thing and then pressed the frigid glass to his chest.
“Why the hell would she-? No, she just told me to see if you’re alive. You should probably text her back by the way.” Robert holds out the damp towel next, “Here just lean forward”
Robert drapes the towel over the back of Flambae’s neck, watching the steam start to rise almost immediately. “Then why’re you still here?” Flambae motions down to himself, “As you can see ‘m very much alive.”
Robert pauses for a moment, why was he so quick to jump into helping him, maybe it was pity, he wasn’t obligated to do any of this, he let Prism know where Flambae’s at, he could just walk out right now, but his feet weren’t ready to move. “Do you want me to leave?”
Now it was Flambae’s turn to be quiet, he didn’t particularly want to be alone, even if it meant the time was spent with Robert of all people, but it would be a cold day in hell before he admitted that to Robert fucking Robertson. The silence dragged on a beat too long giving Robert the cue to head out.
He nods, “Yeah, no I will get out of your hair, just make sure to call out tomorrow,” Robert started to ramble as he turned away from Flambae. A hand grasped around Robert’s arm, tugging him back towards the bed. Not a word was said by Flambae who in that moment wouldn’t even look up at Robert. A small smile tugged at his lips as he sat on the edge of the bed by Flambae, “Never really took you as the type to get sick, I kind of assumed any virus’ would just melt if they tried anything in your body,” his voice was soft despite the tease of his words.
Robert’s hand came to rest on Flambae’s forehead until any bit of coolness had been sucked away and he flipped his hand as Flambae spoke. “Not a flu- like heatstroke on crack. ‘S what I get for killing myself on the fucking missions bullshit.”
“Well maybe if you weren’t constantly showboating you wouldn’t be like this is what I’m hearing,”
“Fuck off-”
A short laugh, “I tried, yet you didn’t let me leave,”
“Mmm.. just shut up,”
Robert hummed in response, “Lay back down and then I’ll shut up.”
Flambae rolled his eyes and slid back down to lay on his side facing the fan, his back to Robert. Robert reached over to pull Flambae’s hair back off his neck and shoulders. His fingers combed through his hair as he did this, very carefully working to untangle the knots that had formed over the course of the day. It would’ve been unpleasant for either of them to get any closer with the heat radiating from Flambae, but this, this was nice.
The two sat in comfortable quiet together, Robert using one hand to run through Flambae’s hair, occasionally taking a moment to carefully scratch at his scalp, as the other absent mindedly scrolled through his phone. He hardly paid attention to the words on the screen, glancing down at the man next to him. Curled up slightly, Flambae was the most content and relaxed that Robert has ever seen him. Too worn out to put on his usual bravado, to get all snippy and sass him to oblivion, Flambae lay on his side, arm tucked under his head, eyes closed and his breathing slow and steady. Robert watched, waited until Flambae was clearly asleep before gingerly climbing out of bed, taking the damp towel from the back of his neck as he went. A small sleepy whine from Flambae was the only sign that he had noticed Robert’s removal. He grabbed the empty glass and crept to the kitchen. The hot water was rung out of the cloth and resaturated with something cooler, the glass refilled before Robert returned to the bedroom, replacing either item where it sat prior. He slid back into bed beside Flambae, returning to the gentle stroking of his hair, twisting it around his fingers and dropping it back onto the bed. His phone buzzed once, twice with a message from Prism, mostly her complaining that her messages have still gone unanswered. With a quick tilt of his phone, Robert sent her a somewhat blurry photo of the sleeping man beside him with just the word ‘sleeping’ accompanying it. Instead it was Flamabe’s phone that buzzed, two, three, seven, maybe even eight times. Robert rolls his eyes with a fond smile on his lips, only able to imagine what the hell she was texting him. He sighs and slouches back against the headboard, may as well get comfortable if he was here for the foreseeable future.
Im done with my finals (for now) so we are back to compromising positions. Inspired by this fic (Quality Control by SassyTabris). Absolute cinema, just had to draw something about it
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