Imagine a Quiet Break in the Lab with Singed
Summary: Over lukewarm coffee and the quiet hum of something unnatural, you and Singed share a rare, unspoken moment. Beneath all the layers of obsession and paranoia, something soft and strangely human begins to stir.
Pairing: Singed x Reader
Word count: ~1,050
Warnings: quiet unease, emotional repression, underlying instability
You weren’t even sure if it could be called coffee. Something about the color was off more grey than brown and it smelled faintly of ozone. But you drank it anyway because he had made it. Or at least, he had remembered you liked it hot.
It sat between you in mismatched ceramic mugs, the steam rising slowly and catching the cold-blue light of the lab’s alien centerpiece — a machine you didn’t quite understand, still humming like it had a heartbeat of its own.
“I believe the calibration is stable,” Singed said, his voice low, distant. “For now.”
You glanced over at him. He hadn’t touched his mug yet. Just stared down into it, like it might speak first.
There was a long silence after that. Not uncomfortable, not exactly — just… strange. The kind of quiet that fills the space after too many nights without sleep. You weren’t sure when he’d last rested. You weren’t even sure when you had.
The machine blinked once. Faint violet light pulsed inside its core.
You took a sip. Regretted it instantly. Swallowed anyway.
“You don’t have to sit here,” he murmured suddenly, still not looking at you.
“I find your presence… tolerable,” he added. Which, coming from him, was practically sentimental.
You let out a small laugh — short, a little hoarse from the cold air.
“I’m honored,” you said. Then, quieter: “You don’t talk much about your work anymore.”
He tensed, just slightly. You noticed — you always noticed.
“It talks for itself,” he said.
The machine pulsed again.
But you hadn’t sat down next to him for the science.
You studied his profile instead — how the light from the reactor carved stark shadows across his face, catching the long-healed lines of old damage. His left hand — the one not holding the untouched mug — flexed once against his thigh like it remembered some trauma you hadn’t been here for.
“You’re not paranoid tonight,” you said softly.
That earned you a glance. Sharp, but not unkind.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t,” he replied. “Only that I’m… quieter about it.”
You looked down into your cup. The surface had gone still, reflecting distorted lines from the machine. “I like you like this.”
He blinked once. Slowly. “Like what?”
“Still. Not hiding behind formulas or warnings.”
That caught something in him. Not irritation — not exactly. Just tension.
You weren’t sure what you were doing, poking at the edges of his defenses. Maybe it was the late hour. Or the fact that, for once, the lab didn’t reek of formaldehyde and chemicals. Maybe it was that you’d seen him feed the stray cat outside the door last week and pretend he didn’t.
“I don’t want to unravel you,” you added, suddenly aware of your own boldness. “Just… understand.”
Another long pause. The machine continued its breathing — soft, warm, unnerving.
“I don’t believe people are meant to be understood,” Singed said eventually. “Only endured.”
You tilted your head. “Then let me endure you.”
The silence that followed was not empty. It was thick with something you hadn’t heard from him before: hesitation.
And when he finally turned toward you — fully, this time — his eyes softened in a way that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’d been the only person who ever saw it.
He picked up his mug, raised it between you like a reluctant toast, and said:
You tapped your mug gently against his. “Maybe.”
And for a while, the two of you just sat there. In the quiet, in the glow. Two minds scarred by invention, tethered not by science — but something much stranger.
A/N : Here's the second imagine of Singed. Hope u like it. Have a good reading. If you want other Singed imagine ask me.
And don't forget to share , like and subscribe ! Lot of love 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
