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logicaldelta · 2 months ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Barry Allen Additional Tags: Dick Grayson Meets the Justice League, (Some of them) - Freeform, Dick Grayson is Robin, Bruce Wayne is Good With Kids, Somewhat, Wrote this for fun, in the depths of sleep deprivation, while a friend cheered me on, From the Sidelines, Hope you enjoy Summary:

Young Dick Grayson has had three rules drilled into his head by his father, Bruce Wayne. 1. Don't talk to strangers 2. Don't trust metas 3. If you get lost and can't find B, call Alfred

When he's brought along to a meeting that Batman has in Central City, he's alarmed to hear the Flash claim that he's friends with Batman.

B doesn't have any friends, after all.

(Entire fic under Keep Reading for those that don’t like using ao3 or going off tumblr for fics ^^)

The past week had been a bit rough for Dick. He'd gotten injured - mildly, he'd insisted. A goon landed a hit to his arm, but it was just a bruise - during his patrol on Saturday night two weeks ago and Bruce hadn't let him go out at night since. Which made no sense! He'd gotten hurt worse before and every time Bruce would panic and practically ground him, and it never got any less annoying.

He knew he'd been moping around the entire time, which was why he was so quick to get ready when Bruce told him to suit up.

It wasn't a regular patrol night for him - B tried his best to keep him home on school nights - and he couldn't help but be a little confused as he did what he was told.

His confusion, mixed with a bit of excitement, only grew as he was led to one of the zeta tubes. He was forbidden from using them and wasn't really meant to go near them at all without B around (not that he followed that rule).

"Where are we going?" He asked, flipping to walk on his hands for a while and staring up at his mentor, Batman outfit now covering his form. It amazed him how different B looked with the suit on, though he liked to think he'd gotten used to some of the Bats restricted mannerisms by now. He could tell what most of the grunts and huffs meant, and it was always fun when he made B smile during patrol because 'Batman can't be laughing at your antics, Robin'.

"Central City." The response was short, yet it made Robin spring back onto his feet.

"Woah. We're leaving Gotham?" Batman had never allowed him to leave the borders of the city during any patrols, and it seemed strange that he was willingly taking him outside the city limits. To a city that Dick knew The Flash operated in.

He wasn't meant to go near any metas, even if they occasionally worked with B. Their powers weren't fully known to Batman yet - they'd begun reluctantly working together just a few months ago - and even though Robin had been allowed to read the files they had on each of them they weren't the most detailed just yet. He remembered seeing a weaknesses section for each of them, most of which were yet to be filled in.

So, they weren't deemed safe for Robin to be around yet. Especially alone.

B just gave a slight nod of affirmation, disclosing no further information.

Which made things more surprising. They were going to the city that The Flash protected, and for some reason Batman thought it was necessary for him to go too.

Batman punched a few things into the keypad inside the zeta tube, and with a dizzying rush that caused Robin to squeeze his eyes shut they were transported to Central City.

Transportation felt weird and Robin kind of wanted to be sick, but Batman was resting a hand on his shoulder and crouching in front of him and it helped him feel a bit better.

"Remember what I taught you."

"Don't talk to strangers, don't go near any metas, stick close to you and if I get lost and my comms don't work, call Agent A." He rattled off the list confidently, having been made to memorise the first and last rule before he'd been allowed on patrol. The no metas rule was added somewhat more recently. They didn't deal with many of them in Gotham.

But this wasn't Gotham, and Robin didn't know the streets, and he stuck close to Batman's side because he didn't want to lose track of him, even if he was in awe of the city around him. It was much brighter than Gotham, and travelling to a spot halfway across the country made it so that the sun was still out here. It had just set back in Gotham, but time zone differences meant it was just beginning to set in Central.

"Whoa," he muttered, grasping a handful of Batman's cape. It was a nervous habit, he knew, but it made him feel better.

They came to a stop in a field not too far from the zeta tube and Batman turned to face him once more.

"I have to meet someone. I don't want them seeing you just yet. Go hide over there." He gestured to a nearby corner that was obscured from view enough to hide him, but not if he'd been an adult.

He frowned at that. Why had he been brought all the way there if he wasn't allowed to meet whoever B was here for?

But he didn't argue. Not when he saw the frown on B's face. Whoever he was meeting wasn't trusted yet, not with Robin, whether it be The Flash or someone else.

He nodded and went to hide. "In position, B," he whispered into his comm unit, slightly surprised that the channel had been left open. Maybe B wanted him there as a witness or backup, in case things went south? Or maybe he'd needed another pair of eyes or hands for whatever he's up to?

Robin had gotten so lost in his thoughts that he didn't feel the burst of wind or see the red blur until it came to a stop in front of him.

He jumped, moving back to put distance between himself and the newcomer.

The man wore a red suit, and he had his head tilted as he stared down at Robin. He looked confused, and his eyes scanned the area around them.

"What're you doing here, kid? Where are your parents?" His voice was gentle as he crouched down to be at eye-level with Robin.

Robin, for his part, knew better than to give a proper answer to that.

"Around. What are you doing here, Flash? Are you here to help people?" He pulled a smile onto his face, the same one he did when performing, and added a curious lilt to his tone. He saw the Flash soften, and knew something was working on him.

"Yeah, I'm helping people. Here to meet a friend about something, actually. But if you need me to take you to your parents first, I'm happy to do so. I'm sure the big guy wouldn't mind waiting." He offered a hand to Robin, though the younger vigilante didn't take it, shooting a wary glance at it.

It clicked into place in his brain that this man was here to meet B. Which made sense, sort of. But he didn't want to leave his cover when B had told him to stay there.

He shook his head. "I'm here on official business. From Gotham." He didn't want to say much else, just wanted to man to leave him alone.

Flash's eyes widened. "You're here with the Bat?" When Robin nodded, he continued. "Well, I'm a friend of his. You can trust me."

"He doesn't have any friends," came Robin's immediate response. He couldn't keep the suspicion out of his tone there if he tried. B didn't have friends, especially not metas, and it was suspicious that this man tried to claim that.

'I'm a friend of your dad,' was, after all, a phrase that B had taught him to never trust.

Flash's face scrunched up and before Robin could react he'd planted a hand on his shoulder. Robin froze, muscles locking into place at the unexpected touch. "You sure you're okay, kid?"

The hand hadn't moved. He didn't think he could take out this adult on his own, not without a lot of trouble and probably some injuries. So, he did the best thing he could think to do.

He pulled out a small taser that B had given him, for emergencies, jabbed it into The Flash's hand, using the moment where he reacted to spring away, running out from his cover and towards Batman. "B! There's a strange man trying to grab me!"

B, who had been in the middle of talking to someone, reacted immediately to the call. He ran the rest of the way to Robin and allowed the young boy to clamber onto his shoulders and wrap his arms and legs around him to stay up there. They both watched as the Flash appeared, Robin taking note of the red blur this time, a deep frown on his face.

"That little monster tased me!" He cried, pointing up at Robin where he sat. Robin stuck his tongue out at him, but B held up a hand and whispered for him to behave.

"Why were you attempting to grab a random child?" B's tone was low, the same gravelly tone that he always used when Batman seeming deeper somehow.

"I wasn't doing anything weird! You're making me sound like a creep. I thought he was lost!"

"And he was defending himself from a stranger that seemed overly familiar with him," B argued in his defence, shutting down any further complaints from the meta. He tilted his head to whisper a quick "good job" to Robin.

Robin beamed, happy to have his mentor's praise, even if it was small at the moment.

"Why the hell did you bring a kid here anyway? And whose kid did you steal for this?" The Flash seemed like the kind of person that didn't know when to shut up.

B didn't grace him with a proper response, instead just grunting and turning back to the other man that Robin hadn't got a proper look at before and-

His little hands slapped down on B's shoulders repeatedly and he whistled a few times in rapid succession. A sound B was growing familiar with.

Robin was excited. Because his favourite superhero was standing on the grass in front of them, a surprised look on his face as his eyes flicked between the two of them repeatedly.

"B, B, look, it's Superman! This is so cool. Can I go say hi?" He tried to whisper, he really did, but Superman had superhearing and he was certain that he'd heard it, with how the corners of his lips ticked upwards.

B sighed, muttering back at him. "I said no metas."

"But B, please?" Superman had always been his favourite hero. He'd heard stories of him a lot, and the vibrant colours of his outfit looked fun and nice and nothing at all like the dark greys and black that B insisted on wearing all the time.

He wasn't given time to respond, because Superman had already moved closer to them and Robin was vibrating with excitement and The Flash was looking on with narrowed eyes and a gaping mouth.

"Hello," Superman said, smiling at him. He'd begun hovering so they could be at eye level. "Who might you be?"

Robin's eyes lit up and Batman had to adjust his stance as the kid sprung up to stand on his shoulders fully, his arms moving around in big gestures as he speaks. "I'm Robin! And I didn't think you'd be here, this so so cool and I am so glad you're here, even though B says I'm not supposed to talk to you - Superman is okay, yeah, B? – but I'm getting to meet you!"

B sighed, patting his thigh gently. "Robin. Calm down."

"I can't be calm, B! This is the coolest day of my life!"

Superman laughed - Robin had made superman laugh - and when he began speaking Robin snapped his mouth shut to listen properly.

"You seem like a very energetic kid, Robin. What are you up to today?" His voice was soft but he sounded interested in him and Robin felt like he was going to explode.

"I don't know, actually! B doesn't normally take me out of Gotham for anything, and he didn't explain much but I'm meant to be in bed in an hour so I hope we'll be here for longer than that."

He looked down at his mentor as he spoke, hoping he wasn't upsetting him by talking too much. Batman never smiled, but Robin could see a hint of one on his face, could feel the relaxed stance beneath him, and knew he was okay.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, but I think you should still abide by your bedtime. Sleeping right is important for a boy your age."

He normally got annoyed when people tried to tell him what he should do. But this was Superman, and he just nodded his head. "I know."

"What the hell? I get tased and Supes over here gets a normal excited kid? What did I do wrong?" The Flash complained as he watched the interaction.

Robin side-eyed him, a frown briefly crossing his face. "You're weird."

"What the f-" He was cut off by Batman, who also directed a glare at him.

"Language."

Robin stuck his tongue out at The Flash again, bouncing up and down still as Superman watched him. It was a split second mistake that caused him to fall, the slightest misplacement as his foot came down awkwardly on B's shoulder.

But he knew how to use it to his advantage, and he twisted into a back flip, landing with his palms on the ground and using the momentum to spring back up and land on his feet. B hadn't reacted much to the fall except to watch his landing, but Superman and The Flash had both moved towards him only to stop when B held up a hand to them.

It made him feel good. To know that B trusted his abilities enough to not panic, and to stop two strangers - because as much as he loved Superman the meta was still a stranger and Robin didn't want to touch him, let alone be grabbed by him - from trying to catch him.

Robin let out a small "ta-da," as both the other heroes stared at him, eyes wide. He giggled, returning to Batman's side and as much as he tried to fight it he couldn't stop the yawn that tore from his throat, the excitement having taken his energy out of him.

He felt B's hand land on his shoulder and give it a small squeeze. "You okay, Robin?"

"Mh-hm," he muttered, pulling part of B's cape around his shoulders. "When are we going back to Gotham?"

"Soon. We're almost done talking."

Robin grumbled a bit at that, leaning against the older man's leg and burying his face against it. He normally slept longer in the mornings when he knew he'd have patrol in the evening, but since he hadn't been expecting this trip he'd woken up at dawn to have tea with Agent A before the man left to complete some after-breakfast errands.

Thinking of it like that, he figured maybe that was why B had brought him along. Agent A was taking longer than usual, and B knew that Robin hated being at home alone.

He was old enough to be left unsupervised. He could use the microwave and make toast without breaking anything. But the manor was large, and it felt so empty when it was just him there.

Plus, the last time they left him alone they'd panicked because he was 'missing', only to find that he'd fallen asleep on top of a chandelier.

He could hear traces of the conversation outside the cape. It seemed like Batman was discussing the construction of a base of operations for the group of heroes to work from. Robin knew about that project, he'd read about it on the computer in the Batcave.

Granted, he wasn't supposed to have done that. But he was bored last weekend, and B wasn't there to stop him.

The conversation began drawing to a close, some dates vaguely listed as a possible time of completion for the base. B had enough money to make it so that it'd be done by next month. He told the others that a donor had supplied those funds.

Robin smiled at that. He liked knowing more about Batman that anyone else - besides Agent A himself.

"So, going to explain the kid?" The Flash asked, almost like he had a death wish. B tensed, and Robin didn't like that. He wasn't sure if he liked the man, purely because he was overly comfortable with random kids and he was bothering his mentor.

"No." Batman's response left no room for further probing, and as much as both of them wanted answers they didn't want to push him and have him call off their partnership.

Robin yawned again, tugging on the cape. "We going back now?"

He was careful to not use the word home around the others. B didn't seem to want them knowing their exact relationship, and Robin didn't want to give it away either.

"Sure, chum. Let's get you to bed before your guardians kill me."

Robin cracked another smile. Guardians referred to Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth. In this case, Alfred would likely be fretting about Dick's absense. His bedtime was soon, and Alfred was more strict about it than Bruce himself.

He climbed back onto Batman's shoulders, getting a final look at the other two men as B nodded his farewell.

The Flash looked as confused as ever. Robin didn't think he was very smart, at least not when it came to Batman. B was the smartest person Robin knew (he may have been biased towards him).

Superman looked a little concerned, though Robin didn't know why that'd be. He raised his hand to wave goodbye, and Superman returned the gesture. The Flash did too, but he ignored that one.

They were heading back to the zeta tubes, and Robin rested his head on B's shoulder, yawning again.

"You did good, Robin. You can add to their files later, if you'd like."

He grinned, pressing his face further against his mentor. "Thanks, B."

He wasn't sure if it was his exhaustion or the rush of the zeta tubes that won over, but he was asleep by the time they arrived back at the cave.

The last thing he heard was his dad chuckling beneath him.

#DC #DCU #DC Comics #Dick grayson #richard grayson #Bruce wayne #Robin!Dick #Batman #bruce wayne is a good dad #dick grayson is a ray of sunshine #batfam #batfamily #superman #superman is dicks favourite #the flash #barry allen is confused #the archives

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gilverrwrites · 2 months ago

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I could love you

A lot had happened today that you hadn’t expected. You hadn’t expected to buy a whole new dress, a pretty, glittery one with strappy shoulders and a moderately low neckline, but you’d really hit it off with this guy from Tinder, and you kinda wanted to impress him. You’d been looking forward to it all week, which is why you hadn’t expected it when he ghosted you, standing you up and blocking all your socials. What an ass.

You also hadn’t expected to bump into your co-worker Barry Allen at the restaurant. He’d insisted on joining you. Despite your initial objections, you’d had a really nice time, in a strictly platonic way of course. You had no romantic interest in Barry, but he sure was easy to spend time with, his nerdy nature, and affinity for bad jokes had genuinely lifted your spirits. At the end of the night, he’d walked you home, thanking you for letting him crash your pity party. He said he rarely got to sit down to properly enjoy a meal and good company. You can believe it; you've never met another man who's somehow always rushing, yet somehow still perpetually late for everything. In turn, you’d thanked him for saving you from the embarrassment of eating alone and taking your mind off the sting of rejection before giving him a goodnight kiss on the cheek and heading inside. Which is where the biggest surprise was waiting for you.

By the door, you instantly hang up your bag and kick off the new shoes that had been grating your toes all evening before negating your way to the kitchen to store your doggy bag, using nothing but the low light that seeps through your windows, not bothering with the big lights. When you turn to head for the bedroom, you’re not expecting to find the ominous, yellow blurred silhouette of a man in your doorway or it’s two red, glowing eyes that pierce through darkness.

“Did you enjoy your date?” His voice billows through the room, bouncing off the tiled walls and echoing in your ears. It’s almost comical, this formidable, inordinate, spirit-like intruder, standing in the darkness, quizzing you about love life. You’d laugh if you weren’t scared stiff.

“Date?” You eventually question, voice meek as you attempt to tiptoe back from him, but before you can finish a single step, he crosses half of the distance between you, moving at impossible speed and that’s when it clicks, who he is. Professor Zoom, The Reverse-Flash, The Man in yellow. The media had many names for him, but nobody knew his true identity. What you can’t figure out, however, is why he’s here, and why he cares about your ‘date’.

“Yes.” As he speaks, his shape begins to take form, sharpening into something more human. The leather-like fabric of his suit clings to a powerful frame. The red of his eyes grows even more sinister once you catch sight of his black scleras. He smiles at you, rather unsettlingly with full lips. “Did you have a nice time with Barry Allen? Did he charm you with his stupid sweater and outdated jokes?”

“What? He did- we-” He takes a step closer, and you avert your eyes from his uncomfortable gaze, rapidly searching for a weapon, or an escape route, but really, what can you do? What could you grab, where could you go that he wouldn’t get to first? You’re caught in a trap, and he knows it, that’s why he’s taking his sweet time, languidly, confidently treading closer, watching you sweat. Though you feel utterly ridiculous explaining this to him, you do your best to answer his questions. “It was nice, but it wasn’t a date!”

“No?” His tone oozes amusement. He chuckles, it comes deep from his chest. If you weren’t scared witless, it might have been a compelling sound, but he’s close enough to touch you now, and you shake as he reaches a hand out, taking the skirt of your dress between his thumb and fingers to play with the fabric. Those unnerving eyes tracing over your body, following the curve of your hips, the dip in your cleavage. “You dress like this for all of your non-dates?”

In an impulsive burst of anger you make to slap his hand away but he beats you to it, letting go and leaning back against the nearest counter long before you reach him.

“Do you love him?” He asks point blank, and the absurdity of it strikes you.

“No!” You answer without hesitation. It’s the truth, and hopefully what he wants to hear. “What are you even- “

“I don’t believe you.” He interrupts with the shake of his head.

“I don’t care if you believe me, it’s none of your business but it’s the truth! He’s just a co-worker.” You plead but he doesn’t appear to be listening. Instead, he’s nosing through your cupboards like he owns them, leisurely poking around until he finds a mug. In the blink of an eye your kettle is boiling, and a herbal teabag sits waiting at the bottom of the cup. How long does he plan on being here? “Why do you even care? What do you want?”

He doesn’t answer, so you continue to attest, each of your statements met with a ‘tsk’ or the shaking of his head. You go round and round in circles, Zoom apparently content to drag this out as long as it remains entertaining for him, knowing that you know, there’s nothing you can do to be rid of him until he’s good and ready.

“Credit where it's due though, Bar.” He finally turns to you once more, eyes roaming your frame again between sips of what must be scalding hot tea. “He has good taste.”

The compliment, while peculiarly gratifying, does nothing to soothe your anger and fear. It’s becoming more and more clear to you that whatever he’s here to do, this is about Barry. You’re just caught in the crossfire. There’s no way for you to win, but you shoot another, pointless shot anyway. “I don’t love him, I swear.”

“Maybe not yet. But you will.” His self-assurance continues to intimidate you. You know it’s useless but when he steps toward you again, you step back, all but cowering as he seethes.

“Unless I stop it from happening. You can’t give your heart to Barry Allen.” He states, and before you can even process his assertion, you’re overcome with debilitating pain. Intensely sharp, and arching, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, all emanating from your chest. Looking down you see his arm, yellow and blurred, buried in your torso, literally clutching your heart in his hand. “Not if I take it first.”

This is the part where you beg for your life, but you’re too overcome with panic and pain to utter more than a quiet and shaky. “Please.”

His body is moving at such a fast pace that it’s near impossible to make out his features, but you could swear he’s smiling as he watches you panting in pain, trying your best not to move a single muscle for fear of what it will do to your body. Smiling at the quiver of your lip, at your fear-stricken expression, at the glassiness of your eyes as they begin to well with tears.

You do well not to flinch as he leans in closer, but he must feel the way your heartbeat quickens between his fingers. You don’t even wince when you feel the strange, wet tingle of his tongue rolling up your skin, soaking up the salty taste of a stray tear that had trickled down your cheek.

“Please.” You try once more. Taking his aberrant actions as a sign that maybe there is a slither of hope, that you could still find a way out of death. “I don’t- I could never love him.”

Steady and deliberate, you lift your arms attempting to touch him, to lay your hands on his shoulders but they phase right through, and result in a bitter laugh.

“I could love you thought!” Hurriedly you take a stab in the dark, internally praying your false declaration might appeal to him. Might convince him to prevent your supposedly inevitable love for Barry by becoming the object of your affections instead. “He means nothing to me, but you could mean something.”

The moment his arm leaves your insides, you heave a loud, excessive sigh of relief, your whole body falling slack even as he grabs you, bunching up the cleavage of your dress and using it to pull you flush against his broad chest.

“Could you now? You don’t even know me.” He doesn’t seem at all convinced, but the fact that he’s asking bodes well for you. It bids you time if nothing else. His breath is hot and sweet against your face, and he watches you intensely as you try again to touch him. This time you succeed, nodding your affirmation as you graze your fingers along the black and red emblem between his pecks before resting them on his shoulders with deliberate casualness. “Why would you fall for someone like me?”

“Because… you’re better than him.” He’d insulted Barry before. Sure, Barry is nice, but you don’t care enough about your co-worker to defend his honour when your life is on the line. Maybe if you can appeal to Zoom’s ego by putting Barry down you can survive this encounter. You must be onto something because he hums his approval, tilting his head to the side until your knuckles brush his bristled cheek. “You’re smarter, stronger…”

“Faster?” He chimes in, a smug smile on his lips.

“Yes, of course you’re faster.” You agree, stretching up to nuzzle your nose into his neck. “I could love you so much.”

Though you’re certain he could have stripped you naked in an instant, he chooses instead to thread a finger under the strap of your dress, slowly trailing it from your shoulder. His brows are hidden behind his hood but the look in his dark red eyes is evident; hungry and expectant. “Okay, I’ll bite. Prove it.”

You hadn’t expected to get this far, but you comply with his veiled demand, leaning back to finish the job. Tentatively, you pull down the other sleeve, shimmying your dress down until it falls to the floor and pools at your feet, leaving you exposed to The Reverse-Flash in nothing but the matching underwear you’d picked out this morning. You’d been hoping to get laid, but you’d never expected it would happen like this.

He must like what he sees, because the haughty expression on what you can see of his face falters to a softer, more genuine one. His black and crimson eyes widening as he takes you in.

“Did you wear those for Barry?” You’re sure from his tone and the quirk of his lip that he’s teasing, but his face is hidden enough to cast doubt, and you don’t want to get stuck in a loop again, so you don’t answer.

“Will you- ?” You gesture to him hesitantly, unsure if you should even ask. He seems taken aback by your request at first, eyes narrowing as he watches you but to your surprise, he complies, pulling his cowl back to reveal a face you don’t recognise. You hadn’t really expected to know him, you can’t imagine ever interacting with anyone like him in your day-to-day life. He is, however, far more attractive than you’d expected, with a strong jaw and nose, pronounced cheekbones, dark brows, and striking pale blond hair. “You’re certainly better looking than him.”

“I know.” He doesn’t seem boastful, but before you can stew on it the clasp of your bra falls lax, and you automatically catch it by grasping your breasts. Zoom is watching you keenly, brows raised. “Your turn.”

“Kiss me first.” You push, he’d already given you what you’d asked for once, you’re curious to see how much more he’ll give you.

“Aren't you needy?” You catch the playful role of his eyes before he puts his lip on you, and he’s not shy about it, immediately snaring your lips in a heated, open-mouthed kiss. He kisses you with an intensity you haven’t experienced before. Your teeth scratching his tongue as he greedily tastes you, overwhelming you with his sweet taste, with the pressing of his tongue on yours and the feel of his domineering fingers on the back of your head, holding you in place.

It's like he’s consuming you. In the throes, you lose yourself, letting your bra drop before returning his embrace, moulding yourself into his torse and wrapping your arms around him. The sudden pinch of his fingers on your nipple takes you by surprise, and he rumbles appreciatively when you gasp into his mouth.

His second hand releases your head in favour of kneading your other tit, and once more he does it at such a pace that you suck in another breath, pulling back to watch as he massages your chest with unrelenting but pleasingly pressure. You chance a glance up at him and catch him watching, entranced at the way they move and ripple at his punishing touch. Selfishly, you catch his mouth again, and he lets you, closing his eyes as he enjoys your lips once more.

But the moment is short, not done playing, he grips both of your nipples at once, pulling them harshly and swallowing your pained moans, ignoring how your fingers dig into his arms until he’s satisfied.

“Do you love that?” He asks mockingly, but his tone is low and breathy. Your eyes travel down his body, finding a noticeable tent in his suit.

“Yes.” You answer. Love might be a strong word, but it certainly made your clit throb, and you’ve already been throwing it around tonight.

“What about this?” He punctuates his question by slapping your tit, hard. The sound reverberates around the room, making your ears sting half as much as your breast. It hurts like hell but in a way that makes the rest of your body feel flushed and excited. “Huh?”

He follows it up with another hit to the other side, alternating until your back is against the kitchen counter and your cries of ‘Yes! Yes, I love it!’ sounds more like begging than praise.

When he ceases his assault, you’re abruptly overcome with dizziness. You feel light-headed and weak, and the sensation is heightened by the feel of his mouth on your skin once more. Roughly he kisses and bites at your throat, his hands forcefully grabbing at the softest parts of you. When you start to come too you realise the cause of your unexpected vertigo. With his speed he’d lifted you off your feet, stripping you of your panties and placing you at the counter where you’d be eye-to-eye level with him were he not dragging his teeth along your stomach.

Eager to appear valuable, you thread your fingers in his hair, urging him back up to kiss you again, and allowing you access to run your hand down his stomach until you’re palming the hard bulge at his crotch. He ruts against you, his chilling eyes rolling back before closing. You’re not sure how to free him, but that doesn’t stop you fumbling, looking for a clasp or a zip, anything, but the moment comes to a standstill when you both hear your phone ringing in the other room. It only distracts you for a second before you continue with the job at hand. You assume he won’t allow you to talk to anyone, to send some kind of distress message but you’re proven wrong when he holds the screen to your face.

It's Barry.

“Answer it. Put it on speaker.” Zoom tells you.

Cautiously you take the phone from him, unsure how to proceed. “But- “

“Answer it.” He repeats, prying your other hand from his clothed cock and forcing it to your chest. “You can tell him all about how you’re falling in love with somebody else another time. Just act like everything is normal.”

Still cautious, you bite your lip as you press the answer button, fingers shaking as you fiddle to put him on speaker and finally say; “Hello.”

“Hey, it’s me!” He sounds chipper, like himself. Completely unsuspicious. Why wouldn’t he be? “Sorry for the late call.”

“It’s okay. I- It’s okay…” You trail off as you watch Zoom. He’s observing your every move, but his hands are between your thighs, squeezing them as he guides them apart.

“It’s just that I texted you when I got home but didn’t hear back. So, just checking in.”

“Oh, sorry. I gOTT…” Any normality in your voice is lost when Zoom pushes a finger between your slit. “Distracted.”

You laugh awkwardly, unsure what excuse to use, and Barry good-naturedly laughs back, unaware that Professor Zoom is now pushing a second digit between your lips, grinning like a fucking manic as he moistens them with your slick and begins gliding them over your sensitive clit. How will you ever look Barry in the eyes again?

��Yeah. I’m sorry, but I’m fine, I’m all goOOOD.” You can’t handle this. To alleviate the pressure, both mental and physical, you sit back as best you can, putting distance between you and Zoom, but it doesn’t slow him. If anything, it motivates him more.

“Are you sure? No offence but you sound a little off.” Barry couldn’t offend a- something. You can’t even finish the metaphor, because as he asks, Zoom picks up his pace, far past anything non-meta-humanly possible. His fingers act like a vibrator.

“Yes! Yeah! Yeahyeahyeah. I’m totally fine.” You blag, legs shaking as you try to temper the tension growing in your centre. Zoom’s chest shakes, not from speed, but from containing his laughter. “I’m just sooooooo tired.”

“Yeah, it is late.” Barry agrees, but he still sounds sceptical. “Listen, I won’t keep you but there is one thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

Now? Did it have to be now? Just when you thought Zoom couldn’t possibly make you feel any better, he changes things up, keeping you on your curled toes by sinking his two fingers into your tight walls. Your body puts up no resistance, greedily sucking him in, convulsing around him when he presses his thumb firmly onto your clit.

You close your eyes, intoxicated by the rush of being filled and touched by his euphoria-educing hands until he pulls back and swats your clit, bringing you back to the now. He greets you with a scowl when you open your eyes, nodding his head toward your phone where Barry is calling your name.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes. Sorry!” You answer quickly, before you lose your bearings again. “I’m half-asleep. Can we talk at work?”

“I’d really rather do it now, I’ll make it fast.” He laughs like he made a joke, and you don’t get it.

You don’t care to get it. All you care about is whether the shoe is going to drop, and if it will happen before Zoom makes you cum all over the countertops. He reinserts his fingers inside you, but he’s thrusting in and out of you so fast you’ve no idea how deep he is at any given time. They seem to be everywhere and nowhere all at once.

When it becomes evident, you’re not going to reply, Barry continues. “That guy who stood you up today was a total jerk. Whoever he is, he doesn’t deserve you.”

You’re too focused on keeping a moan trapped in your throat to even think about the vindication of Barry confirming that your date tonight was not with him.

“And I had such a good time with you.” He stops speaking, a natural opening for you to say something.

Zoom had said to act normal, so you sputter the first thing that comes to mind. “I had a good time too, Barry.” Although, you’re not convinced you sound entirely lucid as you force the words out between gritted teeth.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” God, will this phone call ever end?! “Are you sick? I thought your food looked a bit off. Do you need me to come over?”

“Yes, no. I’m fine, go on.” You urge. Already you’re impatient to hang up, but your intolerance multiplies tenfold when Zoom’s garish yellow suit disappears before your eyes. Unveiling his muscular body. Instantly your eyes are drawn to the dark blond hair on his chest, and you follow its trail down his stomach, your jaw falling slack when you eye his erection.

“Okay...” Barry still sounds dubious, but he carries on, nonetheless. “What I’m getting at is that I’d like to have dinner with you again.”

Zoom offers you reprieve, and though you’re grateful, you can’t help the anguished grunt that escapes your lips when he retracts his fingers from your needy cunt.

“Or not.” You’re only half paying attention to Barry, fixated on the way Zoom runs his length between your pussy lips as he had done with his fingers. Gliding the tip up and down, teasing your clit and entrance in turn. But having experienced what Barry is going though only hours earlier, you sense the burn of rejection in his quip.

“No. No, Barry, that was. I- I stubbed my toe.” You hurriedly tell him, practically shouting, too worked up to control your vocal cords. It’s like you’re being pulled in two different directions. “You want to have dinner with me?”

“Yeah, but on purpose. You know?” You don’t know, in that second you only know the delicious, bittersweet ache of Zoom’s cock as he gradually begins fucking into you, stretching you out no more than half an inch at a time before purposely pulling back out, making sure you feel every inch of him over and over as you keep tripping over your tongue down the phone. “Like as a date.”

Simultaneously, you both stop. Zoom watches you blankly as you begin to panic, all the fervid heat in your guts freezing over as you grasp at the frazzled straws in your brain for an answer that won’t get you killed. No? Right? The answer is ‘no’.

“Oh, Barry. I don-“ You pause when Zoom shakes his head frantically at you. You’ve never been more confused in your life, but when he starts to mouth the word ‘yes’ at you, you repeat it. “Yes. I mean yes. Yes, let’s do that.”

“Yes?” Barry repeats.

“Y-ES.” You confirm, just as Zoom returns to burying himself inside your folds, abandoning his shallow, teasing thrusts, in favourite of plunging into you completely. You feel as though you’re being split open. Heedlessly, you wail down the phone and arch your back up into his waiting arms. You don’t know if Barry is taken aback by your enthusiasm or if he simply didn’t hear you for some reason, but he says nothing, so you hastily try to excuse yourself, voice breathy and jittery as Zoom begins to rock in and out of your tight pussy. “Really excited, b-but I really sh-OULD go.”

“Okay, okay, yeah, I’ve kept you long enough. We’ll sort the details out at work?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You rush along. “We’ll talk then, bye-bye, goodnight.”

You hang up before he can say anything else, dropping your phone on the worktop and throwing your arms around Zoom. You have questions, but not one of them matters to you right now. You’re just starting to find a rhythm, supporting your weight on his sweeping shoulders so you can grind in time with him when you’re overcome with light-headedness again.

One second, you’re in his arms, and the next you’re half-laying on something soft and blinded by light.

“Look.” He commands, and you squeal when he slaps your stomach, but you force your head forward to look down at his hand, blinking until you can make out what’s going on. He’s still standing, pounding into you from above. Your ass is elevated on the arm of the couch, your back bent at an awkward angle that allows your head and shoulders to rest on the cushions. “Do you see that?”

His hand is pushing into your abdomen as he fills you over and over. You’re practically seeing stars, but through squinted eyes you make out what he’s talking about. Every time he bottoms out, your stomach bulges around the crown of his cock. You’d only ever seen this kind of stuff in porn, your head would spin if it wasn’t already.

“You ever been fucked this deep before, hon?” Zoom asks, sarcastically emphasising the pet name.

“No.” Your voice is barely a whisper, and you push out a strained moan before you repeat yourself at what is probably too high a volume. “No, never ever. Only you.”

“You love that?” He’s goading, but all it does is rile you up even more.

“Yes, Zz-Zoom!” You answer. He scoffs. Once again, he moves your body before you notice, hiking you further up the arm and when you feel him rut into again, you have to grab a pillow, have to let out some of the frantic energy that’s thrumming through your body. It hurts, but you love it.

“Eobard. My name is Eobard.” He tells you, far too coherently when compared to yourself. You barely register that it’s because of his superhuman abilities.

It just doesn’t feel fair that he has this power over you. To make you wither and scream, to make you feel so fucking feral with so little effort on his part. You don’t say that. You don’t even take the time to sound out his peculiar name, almost immediately murmuring it amongst a slew of desperate whimpers. “Eobard. I love it. I love it. I’m so close.”

“Not yet.” He instructs, and you dig your nails into the pillow that much harder, determined to please him. Your grip grows painful as he leans over you, his hand travelling down your chest until it cups one of your still sore tits and his face is as close to you as it can be in this position. “Look into my eyes.”

You can barely keep your lids open, but you do it as best you can. His red iris’ suddenly don’t seem so scary. Piercing, yes, but captivatingly so. You say as much, under your breath and to his great amusement. “Y-you have such striking eyes.”

Though he gets a good chuckle out of your sex-fuelled infatuation, he doesn’t dwell on it. “Do you love me?”

Do you love him? Not ‘could you love him?’ Do you love him?

No. You’re not a fool. A good fuck doesn’t equal love. You’re only fucking him in the first place to save your life, but you can’t say that. The question should instil you with fear, the same, if not more so than when you’d first discovered him lurking in your home. You certainly don’t feel safe, but fear doesn’t grip you in that moment.

“Yes.” You lie. And once the word leaves your lips, you feel your walls begin to tremble around him. Or maybe he’s trembling, moving so fast inside your drenched cunt that the climax you’ve been fighting pushes back at you, slowly trying to seep through your body. It’s impossible to tell. It takes all your willpower to hold on, and you focus your energy on insincerely professing your love to him. “I love you. I l-l-love you, Eobard.”

“Do you think Barry could fuck you this good?” He presses, sharp smile on his plump lips, knowing full well what you’ll say.

“No, no never. Only you.” You abandon the pillow, stringing your fingers in his hair so hard that he swears aloud. You’re not too far gone to not enjoy finally seeing him weak for a second, but you don’t stop appeasing him. “B-Barry could never. No Barry. Just you. I only want you.”

“I love to hear it.” His smugness only encourages you.

You nearly let loose when he moves you again, shifting you so that you’re sitting upright on the arm. You’re too faint to support yourself, so he holds you close, one hand on your waist the other on your shoulder blade, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, but you don’t have to hold back for long.

“You can cum now. Do it, cum all over my cock darlin’. Let it all out.” You do just that. Body trembling, vision blurred, fists clenched as he fucks you through it. You swear he picks up his pace, if as much is even possible given the already excessive amount of speed he’s exerting to make you lose your damn mind.

“I love you.” You coo one more time, when you grow completely limp. Having ridden out your orgasm, his frenzied thrusting suddenly becomes painful, but not unpleasant. It wouldn’t take much at all to drive you over the edge again.

When Eobard registers your calmness, he slows. The tempo must feel relaxed to him, but to you and anybody else, he keeps hammering into you at a relatively fast pace as he loosens his hold on you, putting enough space between your forms to allow him space to lean down and kiss you. Not caste, but soft. He peppers your dazed face almost sweetly, and though he hadn’t told you at any point that he loved you, you could almost believe him if he did.

The moment doesn’t last long however, it ends when he releases you all together. You fall back onto the couch unceremoniously, and with a near-comical thud.

“My turn.” He grins. You don’t feel him pulling out of you, but you feel the force of him slamming back in, this time from an entirely different angle. With the arm no longer between you, he mounts one foot on the couch, posing your legs precariously over his.

He’s barely even fucking you at this point. More, so, fucking himself with your body, and though it feels good, good enough to lose yourself to him a second time, the fall offered you enough of a grace period that something clicks in your brain as you watch his thick cock repeatedly disappear inside your pussy.

“You-you’re not wearing protection!” You can’t see yourself, but you imagine you must look like a deer in the headlights. Eyes wide, frozen but for Eobard rocking. The sound of your bare skin slapping together suddenly seems much louder.

“What’s the matter?” He quirks his head to the side, not a care in the world for what you just said. “Don’t you wanna start a family with the man you love?”

The question short-circuits your brain. No. But yes. You do not, but you’ve been telling him whatever he wants to hear all night.

“C’mon, honey, say it.” He urges, upping the ante, and your turmoil by pressing a rapidly shaking finger to your clit. Pumping harder when your eyes go soft and glassy once more. “Go on, you’ve come this far. Beg me to put a baby in you.”

Already you’re close, too close, but you can’t find it in you to give him what he wants this time. His legs feel solid and meaty under your hands as you reach for them, slapping his shins as though you’re trying to tap out, but he doesn’t let up. Despite your reluctance, you’re whimpering so softly for him, reluctantly enjoying the infinite waves of hot tenderness that blooms in your cunt with every brush of his finger and snap of his hips.

“C’mon, c’mon, I’m almost there. You can do it.” He coaxes, and his tone is so much softer than it had been all night that it almost gives you a new form of whiplash. “Just say ‘Please Eobard, fill me up. Please make me pregnant.’ And we can both cum.”

“P-please.” You can’t believe you’re doing it, but as soon as the first word leaves your mouth, he increases the pulse on your clit. The instant gratification motivates you to carry one. “Please Eobard, fill me with your cum, I want it.”

You know you’re not saying the right words, but you don’t care, your brain is too fried to recall them.

“Good girl, you’ve got it.” Eobard praises. “Keep it up.”

“I wa-want to have your baby, please. Please cum inside me.”

“Oh yeah. That’s the stuff.” He pulls out, just enough for you to catch sight of the gooey, white cum spilling from his tip. A glob of it spills down your folds, and he rubs its warmth into your clit as he pushes his length back in. “Gonna pump you so full of cum, you’ll still be leaking on your date.”

You understand his words, but you have nothing to say. Couldn’t if you wanted to. The combination of his cock driving into you, and his fingers working your swollen bud has you blissed out. Your body is overcome with ecstasy once more, cunt milking his load for every drop as he finishes inside of you.

The remorse of your actions doesn’t settle until he pulls out, causing his now quickly cooling cum to dribble out of your folds, running down your upturned stomach until you muster the energy to lay flat. Eobard isn’t stood beside you anymore, and your eyes search for him.

He wasn’t there a second ago, but upon your third pan of the room, you find him sitting in your armchair, sipping a glass of water. Of all the things he could have been doing right now, that wasn’t what you’d expected. You’re not convinced he won’t still kill you, but he points to a second glass on your coffee table and the doggy bag you’d brought home. You eye them wearily.

“Eat up.” He instructs. “You’re going to need your energy.”

You are hungry, but his actions still strike you as strange. When you sit up, more cum leaks from your gaping pussy, and it sends a chill up your spine. When you look at Eobard again, he’s smiling, enjoying your discomfort, maybe? Whatever the reason, he looks devastatingly good. The post-nut clarity has done nothing to cleanse your attraction to him.

“What’s your plan?” You ask before sipping your drink. You just want to know where you stand now. Does he really expect you to date Barry? After he’d been so aggrieved by the very notion? Is he going to use you to get close to him? Or did he still plan to eradicate you long before Barry's plans come to fruition?

“My plan?” He repeats, feigning offence. “Aren’t we in love?”

It’s your turn to ask. “Do you love me?”

He laughs at your question, turning his head and rubbing his neck. No. Obviously,

“I could love you.” The closeness of his voice makes you jump. He’s moved in the blink of an eye, now sitting beside you, draping an arm across your shoulder and directing your fatigued, still naked form to rest on him. “I could fuck the woman I love in every room of her home, on every surface. I would touch every inch of her body, inside and out. In places she didn’t know could be touched. I could take every hole, till she’s bursting at the seams with my cum.”

You haven’t touched your food. How could you? Not when you’re strung up in him, hanging on his every word. So, he does it for you, ripping into the container, stabbing a cold piece of veg with the wooden takeaway fork and bringing it to your mouth. You don’t want to eat, but you do it anyway, letting him spoon-feed you until all the scraps are gone.

“Why?” You ask when he’s done. A lot of whys run through your mind, but just one answer would satiate you for the time being.

“Because…” He pauses. When you look up at him, he stares back roguishly. He’d stopped on purpose so that you were angled just right for him to kiss you. You melt into him as soon as his lips meet yours, not even shying away when his fingers possessively curl around your neck. Squeezing, not hard enough to affect your breathing, but enough to remind you that he could. When he pulls back, his eyes are half-lidded, and lust-riddled as he whispers. “I’m not just going to take your heart before Barry can. I’m going to take everything.”

Hey you! You deserve the world!

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