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atommadly · 3 months ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | EoWells x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut, explicit, pinned to the wall, from behind, rough.

𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨—𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘤𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘤𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘵, 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮… 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘵��𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺.

Masterlist

You really needed to stop staring at him.

But how could you, when he kept doing that?

Harrison Wells—or rather, Eobard Thawne, hidden behind that brilliant, calculating façade—sat behind his desk, his electric wheelchair angled slightly as if to put the room beneath his command. His brow furrowed, eyes distant, lips set in that maddening way they always did when he was spinning the web of his next scheme.

And then it happened again.

His hand rose almost absent-mindedly, fingers brushing his lower lip. It was the lightest, most fleeting touch—a thoughtless gesture, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. But you were. Oh, you were.

It wasn’t the first time you’d caught him in this unconscious habit. It wasn’t even the second or third time. And yet, every single time, it hit you like a lightning bolt, leaving you breathless, warm, and thoroughly annoyed with yourself.

How could something so simple, so innocent, feel like it had been designed to unravel you?

"Y/N?"

Barry’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, snapping you back to reality. You blinked, heat creeping up your neck as you realized you’d been zoning out again—your eyes locked on Harrison like he was the only thing in the room.

“Huh?” you replied, feigning innocence, but Barry’s expression told you he wasn’t buying it. His gaze flicked from you to Harrison and then back again, one eyebrow raised in silent suspicion.

“Are you okay? You’ve been staring at him for like… a while.”

“I have not,” you said quickly, too quickly.

Barry’s mouth twitched, and the corner of his lips curled upward. “You totally were—”

“Nope!” you interrupted, your voice a little too loud. Heat flared in your cheeks, and you quickly turned away, suddenly very interested in the files on your desk. “Just thinking. About… stuff.”

Barry squinted at you, not even pretending to believe your excuse. But, mercifully, he didn’t press further, muttering something under his breath about people being “weird today.”

Unfortunately, the damage was done. Your concentration was shot. Not that it had been much better before Barry interrupted.

You could feel Harrison’s presence like a gravitational pull, your eyes sneaking back to him before you could stop yourself. And there he was again—still deep in thought, still playing absent-mindedly with his lip as though it wasn’t driving you insane.

Your hand clenched into a fist beneath the desk. This was getting ridiculous.

He had to know. Didn’t he? He was too perceptive, too cunning not to notice the way your gaze lingered, the way your breathing hitched every time he did that. Maybe this was just another way he toyed with people—his intellect and his physicality working in tandem to unravel you piece by piece.

Or maybe it was you. Maybe you were the one reading into things, projecting feelings you shouldn’t have onto moments that probably meant nothing to him at all.

Either way, you couldn’t keep going like this. You had to put an end to it before you lost what was left of your sanity.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you stood, the chair scraping back noisily against the floor. Barry glanced at you, startled, but you didn’t give him a chance to say anything. Your focus was locked on Harrison.

“Harrison,” you said, louder than intended, but your voice didn’t waver.

He looked up, surprised. His brow unfurrowed, and for a moment, he regarded you with that piercing gaze that seemed to strip you bare. “Yes?”

Your heart thundered in your chest as you crossed the room in a few determined strides. You didn’t give yourself time to overthink, didn’t let doubt creep in.

You bent down to his level, your face inches from his, and before he could say another word, your lips were on his.

The kiss was sudden and rough, all heat and desperation. For a moment, he froze—shocked, caught off guard. But then his hands were on you, gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss until you were practically breathless.

It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a collision, a meeting of two forces that had been simmering for far too long. His lips moved with a deliberate hunger, and the low sound he made in his throat sent shivers down your spine.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, you were met with the sight of Harrison Wells—no, Eobard Thawne—looking more human than you’d ever seen him. His lips were slightly parted, his breathing uneven, and his eyes… his eyes burned with something primal, something that made your pulse race all over again.

Barry’s strangled voice from the corner of the room broke the moment.

“Uh, what the hell just happened?” he finally managed, looking between the two of you like he’d stumbled into the wrong room entirely.

You let out a small, breathless laugh, your hand still resting lightly on Harrison’s shoulder, his gaze never leaving yours. “Just something I needed to get out of my system,” you said, voice steady despite the whirlwind inside you.

Harrison’s lips curved into a slow, almost predatory smile. The kind that made your stomach flip and your knees wobble a little more than you’d like to admit. “Is that so?” he murmured, his tone lower now, almost a purr.

Your fingers brushed his shoulder as you stepped back, creating some much-needed space, though you could feel his presence as though he were still holding you. You shrugged, trying to seem casual despite the blush still creeping up your neck. “It was getting hard to focus,” you said simply, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

Barry groaned, loud and dramatic, throwing his hands in the air. “Oh my god, I’m leaving. You two are ridiculous.” He spun on his heel, muttering something about never being able to unsee this as he stormed out of the room.

Once Barry was gone, the room felt electric, charged with something unspoken. Harrison’s gaze never wavered from yours, his lips still faintly parted, as though tasting the remnants of your kiss.

“You’re bold,” he murmured, his voice low and edged with something darker. He rose from the desk, his towering presence making your breath hitch. “But I wonder… is that all you needed to get out of your system?”

His question was a challenge—a dare. And you weren’t about to back down.

You stepped closer, the heat between you nearly suffocating. “Why? Were you hoping for more?”

A flicker of a smirk danced across his lips. “Always.”

Before you could process his words, he extended a hand toward you, palm open, an invitation you couldn’t refuse. Tentatively, you placed your hand in his, only for him to pull you forward with a suddenness that made you gasp. The motion sent you stumbling onto his lap, a surprised laugh slipping from your lips as you caught yourself against his shoulders.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” you teased, breathless and already feeling the warmth of him against you.

“Me?” His smirk widened as his hands found your waist, steadying you in place like you belonged there. “I’m not the one who started this.”

Before you could reply, he leaned in and kissed you again, stealing the words right off your lips. This kiss was deeper, more confident, and it set your pulse racing. His fingers dug into your sides just enough to anchor you as your hands found their way into his hair, tangling in the soft strands. The kiss wasn’t just heat—it was hunger, as though he’d been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

When he finally pulled back, leaving you breathless, he didn’t let go. Instead, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mischievous glint. “So,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing, “you’ve been dreaming about my lips, haven’t you?”

Your cheeks burned at the accusation, but you weren’t about to let him win that easily. “Your lips?” you replied, leaning in until your nose brushed his. “I’ve been dreaming about all of you.”

His laugh was soft, a low rumble in his chest that you felt more than heard. “Careful,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “If you keep saying things like that, I might not let you go.”

“And what makes you think I’d want you to?” you shot back, your confidence emboldened by the way his breath hitched at your words.

The hand on your waist slid higher, tracing the curve of your back as his lips found your neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses that made you arch against him.

"Okay, that's it," he said, his voice firm with resolve.

Before you could process what he meant, his hand moved to the control of his wheelchair, and in one swift motion, he started driving you both out of the Cortex. Your breath hitched, half from the thrill of not knowing where he was taking you or what he planned to do, and half from the absurdity of the situation. The hum of the motor filled the silence, but your mind raced louder.

You tried, really tried, to stifle your giddy excitement—the thrill of being dragged away by him was intoxicating—but it wasn’t working. The corners of your mouth twitched upward despite your best efforts to keep your composure.

As you rolled down the hallway together, the moment you passed Cisco and Caitlin was the tipping point. Both of them froze mid-step, their eyes going comically wide. Caitlin’s jaw dropped, while Cisco’s face twisted in a mix of disbelief and barely contained amusement. Their reactions were too much to handle, and you burst into laughter, the sound echoing down the corridor.

“Oh my god,” Caitlin whispered, blinking rapidly as if trying to convince herself she wasn’t hallucinating.

“Wait, wait, wait—this is real?” Cisco stammered, pointing between the two of you like he needed a second opinion.

From somewhere in the back of the lab, Barry’s exasperated voice rang out, loud enough to cut through the commotion. “I told you! I told you this was happening, but nooo, you didn’t believe me!”

Your laughter doubled, tears threatening to spill as you caught sight of the sheer disbelief plastered across Cisco and Caitlin’s faces. Harrison didn’t so much as glance their way, his focus resolute as he maneuvered through the hall with you still perched in his lap, a picture of smug determination.

“Where are you taking me?” you finally managed to ask through your laughter, wiping at your eyes.

He glanced up at you, his expression unreadable except for the tiniest quirk of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Somewhere we can finish what you started without an audience.”

Your laughter caught in your throat, replaced by a blush that spread across your cheeks like wildfire. Whatever he had in mind, you had a feeling it was going to be unforgettable.

The wheelchair came to an abrupt stop as he reached the door of a small storage room tucked away in the hallway. Before you could question him, Harrison stood up in one swift, confident motion, pulling you up with him. His secret would be safe here.

He kicked the door shut behind you, locking it with a decisive click that sent a thrill coursing through your veins.

And then he was on you.

His lips crashed against yours with a fiery intensity, his hands cupping your face as though you might slip away if he didn’t hold you steady. The sheer force of his need left you breathless, and you barely noticed him guiding you backward until your back hit the wall. His body pressed against yours, caging you in with a heat that made your head spin.

“The fact is…” he murmured between fervent kisses, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “I’ve been staring too.”

“Oh?” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hands clutched at his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as his lips moved lower, tracing the curve of your jaw and finding the sensitive skin of your neck.

A soft gasp escaped you as he peppered kisses there, his stubble grazing your skin just enough to drive you wild. “I’m not the only one with a maddening habit,” he teased, his breath warm against your neck, sending shivers through your entire body.

“Is that so?” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the haze clouding your thoughts. Your words mirrored his from earlier, and you could feel his smirk against your skin in response.

His hands slid down to your waist, gripping you firmly as his lips returned to yours, leaving no room for doubt in his kiss. It wasn’t just desire—it was control, frustration, and something deeper, as though he’d been holding himself back for far too long. You melted into him, your fingers slipping into his hair, pulling him closer, your mind reeling at how completely he consumed you.

Harrison’s hands slipped to the hem of your shirt, tugging it upward as his lips hovered just a breath away from yours. His movements were deliberate, each touch filled with purpose, as though he was savoring every moment. You lifted your arms, letting him pull the fabric over your head and toss it aside without a second thought.

His lips quirked into a wicked smirk as his fingers brushed over your bare shoulders, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Yes,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath warm against your ear. “The way you bite your lip when you’re thinking… like you don’t realize how distracting it is.”

Your breath hitched as his hands slid to your waist, his thumbs brushing the bare skin just above your waistband. “I didn’t realize you noticed.”

“Oh, I notice,” he said, his voice a dark promise. He traced his fingers along the curve of your hips, his touch light but possessive. “Just like I notice the way you play with that strand of hair when you’re nervous. Do you have any idea how hard it is to focus when you do that?”

His words sent a thrill through you, your skin heating under his gaze as he reached for the button of your jeans, undoing it with ease. The zipper followed, the sound deafening in the charged silence of the room. He pushed them down slowly, his fingers brushing your thighs as he knelt before you to guide them off.

“And then there’s the way you laugh,” he continued, his voice growing huskier as his eyes trailed up your legs, drinking you in. “It’s like a spark—one that catches and burns until I can’t think about anything else.”

“Harrison…” you breathed, his name barely audible as he rose to his full height again, his hands finding your hips and pulling you flush against him.

“And don’t get me started,” he murmured, his lips brushing the hollow of your throat, “on the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. That look is enough to undo me.”

You shivered under his touch, your head falling back against the wall as his lips left a trail of heat down your neck. His hands reached behind you, deftly unclasping your bra and sliding the straps down your arms with agonizing slowness.

His hands lingered at your shoulders after sliding your bra free, his thumbs brushing your bare skin as if testing your reaction. The air felt heavy, charged with anticipation, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through you as his lips found the curve of your neck again, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that left you breathless.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble that sent heat pooling deep within you. His hands slid down, fingertips ghosting over the curve of your waist before finding your breasts. His palms were warm, firm yet gentle, as he cupped them, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive peaks. The soft gasp that escaped you made him chuckle darkly, his lips curling into a smile against your collarbone.

“You’re so responsive,” he said, almost to himself, his lips traveling lower. He took his time, savoring every reaction he pulled from you as he kissed a slow path down the center of your chest. When his mouth finally closed over one peak, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin, a moan slipped past your lips, your hands tangling in his hair to hold him closer.

He teased you relentlessly, alternating between gentle caresses and the scrape of his teeth, while his free hand traced lazy circles along your ribs and abdomen. Each touch felt calculated, deliberate, as though he wanted to drive you to the edge of madness. His lips moved lower, his tongue tracing patterns over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

When his hand finally slid down to the waistband of your panties, your breath caught. His fingers toyed with the delicate fabric, skimming the edge in a maddeningly slow tease. His lips were at your hip now, planting kisses just above where you ached for him most.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his voice rough, his breath hot against your skin. “Tell me how much you want this.”

Your head tilted back against the wall, a soft whimper escaping you. “Harrison, please…”

He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased with the desperation in your voice. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband, brushing over your most sensitive spot in a feather-light touch that made your knees go weak.

“Good,” he said, his voice dark with satisfaction as he continued his slow, torturous exploration. “Because I’m just getting started.”

Harrison—or rather, Eobard—continued his slow, deliberate teasing, his touch leaving you trembling with need. But the unfairness of it, the imbalance, made you stir against him, your hands moving to the hem of his tee-shirt.

Eobard continued his relentless teasing, driving you to the brink of madness with each deliberate touch. You clung to him, desperate for more, but the sight of him still fully dressed only amplified your frustration.

“This isn’t fair,” you murmured, breathless as your hands fisted in the fabric of his dark tee shirt. “You’re wearing too much.”

He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Then do something about it.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your fingers curled around the hem of his shirt, and you tugged it upward, revealing the taut muscles of his abdomen and chest. He lifted his arms to help you pull it over his head, and the moment it was discarded to the floor, your hands were on him.

Your palms explored every inch of his exposed skin, tracing the hard planes of his chest, the soft curve of his collarbone, and the ripple of muscles beneath his smooth, warm skin. He shivered beneath your touch, his breath hitching as you ran your fingers down his stomach, teasing the line that disappeared into the waistband of his pants.

“You’re so perfect,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. Your lips followed your hands, pressing soft kisses along his neck and down his chest, reveling in the way his body responded to your every touch.

When you reached his waistband, you tugged at the button of his pants, undoing it slowly, savoring the moment. He let out a soft groan, his patience clearly wearing thin, but he didn’t stop you. You slid the zipper down and pushed the fabric over his hips, letting it fall to the floor. He stepped out of his pants, now left in just his briefs, the sight of him stealing your breath.

You reached out, your hand brushing over the hardness straining against the fabric. He groaned, his hands tightening on your hips as you palmed him, the friction making him tremble beneath your touch.

“You’re testing my limits,” he rasped, his voice rough and heavy with need.

“Good,” you teased, slipping your fingers beneath the waistband and tugging his briefs down. He stood bare before you, and the sheer power and vulnerability in that moment left you aching for him.

But he didn’t let you linger for long. In an instant, he lifted you, pressing your back firmly against the wall. Your panties were gone in a heartbeat, his hands steadying your thighs as he positioned himself at your entrance. He gripped himself, dragging the head of his arousal along your wetness, teasing you in a way that made you moan softly, your head falling back against the wall.

“Say my name,” he commanded, his voice low and filled with authority.

“Harrison,” you breathed, your body trembling with anticipation as he pressed the tip against you but didn’t push in.

A growl rumbled deep in his chest, his eyes blazing. “My real name.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his intense gaze, your breath catching as you whispered the name that felt forbidden yet so right. “Eobard,” you moaned, your voice trembling with desire and surrender.

At that, he thrust into you in one smooth, deliberate motion, burying himself completely. The stretch was perfect, a delicious mix of fullness and fire that left you gasping for air. He groaned, his head falling to the crook of your neck as he held still for a moment, letting you adjust, savoring the way you fit around him.

“Good girl,” he murmured against your skin before pulling back and driving into you again, each thrust deliberate, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and in that moment, there was nothing else but the two of you.

Eobard’s hands gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers pressing into your skin as he held you against the cold, unforgiving wall of the storage room. The contrast of his warmth and the cool surface behind you only heightened the sensations coursing through your body. His thrusts were slow at first, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second, every reaction he pulled from you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your heels digging into the small of his back, urging him deeper. His breath came hot and ragged against your neck, each exhale brushing over the sensitive skin there, sending shivers down your spine. The sound of your bodies moving together—the wetness, the rhythm of his hips meeting yours—echoed in the small room, mingling with the soft creak of a nearby shelf.

The stretch of him inside you was exquisite, every thrust brushing against a spot that made your toes curl and your nails dig into his shoulders. You clung to him, your hands roaming over the hard muscles of his back, feeling them flex with each movement. The raw strength in the way he held you, lifting and pinning you so effortlessly, left you breathless.

“Eobard,” you moaned again, his name falling from your lips like a mantra, each syllable laced with desire.

“Say it again,” he growled, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he drove into you harder, his pace quickening. His voice was rough, commanding, yet there was a desperation to it—a need for you to give yourself to him completely.

“Eobard,” you whimpered, your head falling back against the wall, exposing your neck to him. He took advantage, his lips and tongue trailing down to the hollow of your throat, tasting the salt of your skin. His teeth scraped lightly, and the sharp sensation made you cry out, your walls clenching around him.

“You feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure as his hands shifted, one sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak. The other remained at your hip, gripping you tightly to guide your movements, grinding you against him in a way that made you see stars.

The shelves behind him rattled slightly with each thrust, the vibrations sending supplies clattering against each other. A box tipped over and spilled its contents onto the floor, but neither of you cared. The chaos of the room only added to the urgency, the primal need consuming you both.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan, the sound deep and guttural. His hips snapped against yours with more force now, each movement precise and unrelenting. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, the pressure building with each thrust, coiling tight in your core.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his voice low but insistent. You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze. His pupils were blown wide, his expression a mix of raw hunger and unspoken emotion that made your breath catch.

The intensity of his gaze paired with the way his body moved against yours sent you over the edge. Your walls clenched around him as a wave of pleasure crashed through you, your cries echoing in the cramped space. He groaned loudly, his hips faltering for a moment as your release rippled around him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice strained as he buried himself deep inside you.

As the waves of your climax began to subside, your body trembled in his arms, your breathing ragged. Eobard held you close for a moment, his hands firm on your thighs, grounding you as you came down from the high. Slowly, he eased out of you, his movements careful, though the smoldering hunger in his eyes told you he wasn’t done.

Before you could steady yourself, he gently set you back onto your feet, his strong hands holding your waist to make sure you didn’t falter.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

You obeyed without hesitation, your legs still weak as you faced away from him. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you forward until you were pressed against a sturdy wooden shelf, its surface cluttered with storage containers and loose tools. The edge of the shelf bit into your thighs as he leaned into you, his breath hot against your ear.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” he murmured, his hands sliding over your back, pressing you down until your chest rested against the shelf.

The position left you exposed, vulnerable, and it sent a thrill coursing through you. His hands moved to your hips, gripping firmly as he positioned himself behind you. You felt the hardness of him brush against your entrance again, teasing, sending a jolt of anticipation through your already-sensitive body.

“Eobard…” you whispered, the sound of his name a soft plea.

He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding over your hips and lower back in a possessive caress. “You’re impatient,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement, though the tension in his touch betrayed his own urgency.

Without another word, he slid into you again, the angle and depth making you gasp as he filled you completely. He stilled for just a moment, letting you adjust, before pulling back and thrusting into you again. The sound of his body meeting yours echoed in the small room, each movement sending the clutter on the shelf rattling.

His pace was relentless this time, each thrust harder and deeper than the last, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulled you back to meet him. The rough wood of the shelf pressed into your skin, but the pleasure overwhelmed everything else, leaving you breathless and desperate for more.

“You’re perfect like this,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he leaned over you, his chest brushing your back. One hand slid up your spine, tangling in your hair, tugging gently to arch your neck back. His lips found the curve of your shoulder, biting lightly before soothing the spot with his tongue.

You moaned his name, the sound broken and raw, and he growled in response, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. “Say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough and possessive.

“Eobard,” you whimpered, your body tightening around him as he drove you closer to the edge again.

“That’s my girl,” he rasped, his pace quickening, his grip on you unrelenting as he chased both of your releases. The sound of your moans, his groans, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin filled the air, driving you both higher.

Your hands clutched at the edge of the shelf, desperate for something to hold onto as the pressure built again, your body trembling under his relentless pace. When you finally tumbled over the edge, his name tore from your lips in a cry, your body shaking as your climax consumed you once more.

The way you clenched around him sent him spiraling, his movements becoming erratic as he groaned your name, burying himself deep inside you one last time. His body tensed, his release spilling into you as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder, both of you panting and utterly spent.

For a moment, the room was silent save for your ragged breaths, the tension between you now replaced by a shared, sated warmth. His hands softened on your hips, stroking your skin tenderly as he straightened, pulling you gently against his chest.

The warmth of his breath tickled your ear as he leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell softly.

“If I knew you’d react like that,” you said, breaking the silence with a breathy laugh, “I would’ve kissed you a long time ago.”

Eobard chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice teasing but still rough from exertion. “You might tempt me into forgetting we have to go back.”

You turned in his arms, a playful smile on your lips as your fingers traced his jaw. “You’re the one who pulled me in here.”

“And I don’t regret it for a second,” he said, his gaze softening, the intensity from earlier now replaced with something more intimate. He kissed you one last time, slow and deep, as if trying to make the moment last a little longer.

But eventually, reality crept back in. With a reluctant sigh, the two of you began dressing, the storage room now littered with discarded clothes and scattered supplies that you were too sated to care about. Eobard pulled on his dark t-shirt, the fabric stretching over his still-heated skin, while you fixed your own disheveled appearance, smoothing your hair and adjusting your clothes.

As he sat back into his wheelchair, the transformation was almost seamless. His shoulders hunched slightly, his movements carefully calculated as he adjusted the controls, once again slipping into the façade of Harrison Wells. You watched him, marveling at how effortlessly he stepped back into his role, though the heat in his gaze when he looked at you told you the truth.

“You ready?” he asked, his tone casual, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a private smirk that made your cheeks flush all over again.

“Not really,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But let’s do this.”

The two of you left the storage room, the door closing behind you with a soft click. As you walked beside him down the hallway, the sound of your heels and the hum of the wheelchair filled the air. Your pulse quickened slightly when you neared the Cortex, the reality of facing the team hitting you.

When you stepped into the room, all movement seemed to stop. Barry, Cisco, and Caitlin were frozen in place, their eyes flicking between you and Eobard. It was impossible to miss the signs: your flushed cheeks, his slightly tousled hair, and the lingering heat that practically radiated between you.

Cisco’s eyebrows shot up, his mouth opening slightly as if to say something, but a sharp glance from Caitlin stopped him in his tracks. Barry’s expression was somewhere between knowing and awkward, his lips pressed tightly together as if physically restraining himself from commenting.

The silence hung heavy for a moment, the team’s expressions screaming what they wouldn’t dare say out loud.

Eobard, ever composed, cleared his throat, his voice as smooth and controlled as ever. “Shall we get back to work?” he said, his tone betraying no hint of what had just happened. His hands moved deftly on the controls of his wheelchair, rolling toward the center of the room as though nothing had occurred.

You followed, your heart pounding but your expression steady. You could feel the team’s eyes on you, burning with unspoken questions, but no one dared to voice them. You took your seat, pointedly avoiding Barry’s gaze as he shook his head slightly, muttering something under his breath that you chose to ignore.

The Cortex buzzed with awkward silence for a moment longer before Cisco finally turned back to his workstation with an exaggerated cough, muttering, “Well, this is… normal. Totally normal.”

Despite the heat still lingering in your cheeks, you couldn’t help the small, satisfied smile that tugged at your lips as you exchanged a subtle glance with Eobard. Whatever suspicions the team had, they wouldn’t dare confront the man they believed to be Harrison Wells—not directly.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

Main Taglist : @gabriella-aesthetic

#theflash #fem reader #reader insert #x reader #harrison wells #female reader #harrisonwells #one shot #oneshot #o eowells #eowells x reader #eobard thawne smut #eowells #eobard thawne #one shot smut #oneshot smut #smut

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atommadly · 3 months ago

Text

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | EoWells x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | smut, explicit sex scene, power dynamics, bondage, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳—𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨.

Masterlist

The storm raged over Central City. The sky was torn apart by lightning, slicing through the darkness of the night and the heavy clouds. Rain poured relentlessly, drenching everything in sight, but that didn’t stop you. You pushed forward, running as fast as you could, your power cranked to its maximum. Time seemed to slow as you moved, allowing you to watch the lightning fork across the sky in mesmerizing detail. You were a speedster, just like The Flash—but a hero? Not even close.

You didn’t answer to anyone but yourself. Your moral compass was entirely your own, and let’s just say it didn’t point strictly toward good or evil. You operated in shades of gray—doing good when it suited you and crossing lines into darker territory only when absolutely necessary.

You’d crossed paths with The Flash more times than you could count. Sometimes he tried to stop you, his steadfast belief in justice driving him to clash with your more flexible approach. Other times, the two of you found yourselves fighting side by side, bound by a shared goal, if only temporarily. Deep down, though, your status as an anti-hero left him conflicted. He couldn’t fully condone your actions, but he also couldn’t see you as a true villain. Perhaps, in some way, he even understood you.

On the other hand, you couldn’t say the same about Reverse Flash. Just thinking of his name made a sly, almost wicked smile tug at your lips.

To Eobard Thawne, you were a rival in every sense of the word. You’d outsmarted him more than once, cutting him off at the finish line on some of his most carefully laid plans. Sometimes, you’d reluctantly teamed up to take down Flash, finding a strange, unspoken rhythm in your temporary alliance. Other times, you chased each other through the streets like two predators locked in a deadly game. Yet despite the chaos and destruction that marked each encounter, it wasn’t hatred that fueled the fire between you. Not even close.

Eobard was smooth, calculated, and maddeningly brilliant—a genius who loved to challenge your every move. He teased you, tested you, and always seemed to push just hard enough to get under your skin. But you weren’t one to back down. You gave as good as you got, meeting his taunts with sharp wit and daring moves that only fueled the tension between you. And oh, how you relished it.

You irritated him as much as you intrigued him. He frustrated you as much as he fascinated you. That electric push-and-pull had become your favorite game, one that blurred the line between animosity and attraction. He was a man who could pin you to a wall in a fit of rage and kiss you senseless in the very next breath. He wanted to break you, to dominate you—but at the same time, you knew you drove him absolutely insane. You loved it.

That same dangerous energy crackled between you tonight as you sped through the city streets, his crimson lightning hot on your heels. You’d stolen something he wanted—again—and he wasn’t going to let it go. Furious, he hunted you relentlessly, each step faster, each move sharper. You could almost feel his rage, his focus, his hunger to catch you.

But you weren’t running from him out of fear. No, this was part of the game. The thrill of knowing he was just behind you, that he could catch you at any second, set your heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the chase itself. You weren’t just evading him; you were taunting him, daring him to come closer.

You knew this chase couldn’t last forever—and to be honest, you didn’t want it to. You slowed to a stop inside an abandoned hangar on the outskirts of the city, rain pouring down through gaps in the roof. It only took a second for Eobard to catch up, his crimson lightning announcing his arrival as he appeared before you.

He was soaked to the bone, his suit clinging to him, water dripping from every inch. For a moment, a flash of lightning lit up the room, casting his masked face in stark relief. God, he was unfairly sexy—it really should’ve been illegal.

You smirked, taking your time as you reached up to remove your own mask. There was no need for secrets between the two of you anymore. You’d known each other’s identities for ages now, yet despite all your clashes, neither of you had ever used that knowledge to truly harm the other. It was an unspoken rule in your endless game.

As you lowered your mask, Eobard did the same. The moment his unruly, rain-soaked hair came into view, you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip. He looked disheveled and furious—a combination that only made your heart race faster.

“Y/N…” he growled, his deep voice reverberating through the empty hangar. “Aren’t you tired of this endless cycle?” he asked, his tone sharp with frustration, but there was something else lurking underneath—something darker, more magnetic.

You shrugged nonchalantly, your amusement plain as day. “Not really,” you replied, your smirk widening.

His jaw tightened as he took a step closer, his piercing gaze locked on you. “You know you can’t outrun me,” he said firmly, his voice a mix of anger and something more primal. “Give me what you stole. Now.”

The tension between you was suffocating, thick enough to choke on, the air practically vibrating with unspoken words and forbidden energy.

“Oh, this?” you said playfully, holding up the USB drive between your fingers, twirling it slightly just to provoke him further. “Mmm… no. I think I’ll keep it.”

The way his eyes narrowed sent a thrill down your spine. You could see the struggle in him, the tightrope he was walking between anger and something far more dangerous. You were making him furious, driving him absolutely mad with your defiance—and you loved every second of it.

Anticipation and excitement buzzed through your veins, filling your chest like an electric current. You could feel it, the storm not just outside but in the very space between you. He was on the edge of losing control, and you were the one who had pushed him there. The question wasn’t if he’d snap, but how—and you couldn’t wait to find out.

The tension between you was palpable, like the air before a lightning strike. Eobard’s crimson eyes seemed to burn brighter as he took a slow step closer, his body practically vibrating with restrained energy. You mirrored his movement, circling him, each step deliberate, calculated—like two predators sizing each other up.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” he sneered, his voice dripping with both irritation and something far more enticing. “Stealing from me again? What’s next, Y/N? Planning to run my entire operation into the ground?”

You tilted your head, a smirk tugging at your lips as you twirled the USB drive between your fingers. “Maybe. Or maybe I just enjoy watching you lose your cool. It’s becoming a bit of a hobby, actually.”

Eobard chuckled darkly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Careful,” he warned, his voice low and laced with danger. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Fire?” you teased, stopping in your tracks to face him fully. “No, Eobard. I’m playing with you.” Your voice was soft but sharp, every word a challenge, every syllable dripping with confidence.

He groaned, running a hand through his disheveled hair, his restraint unraveling with every second. “You make it impossible to hate you, you know that?” he muttered, his frustration evident. “You’re nothing but a pain in my ass, and yet…�� His words trailed off as he took another step closer, closing the distance between you.

“And yet?” you prodded, leaning slightly closer, daring him to continue.

His jaw clenched, his breathing uneven as he held your gaze. “And yet, I can’t get you out of my head. Your stupid smirk, your smart mouth, the way you drive me absolutely insane.” He took another step, his voice dropping to a growl. “Don’t look at me like that,” he groaned, his eyes flicking down to your lips before snapping back to meet your gaze. “Unless you’re ready to finish what you started.”

“Oh, I intend to,” you purred, your voice sultry and dripping with challenge.

That was all it took. In a blur of red lightning, Eobard closed the gap, slamming you against the nearest wall with enough force to steal your breath. His hand gripped your wrist, pinning it above your head, the USB forgotten as it clattered to the ground. His other hand rested on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to make your pulse quicken.

The storm outside was nothing compared to the storm between you. His body pressed against yours, his breath hot against your cheek as he leaned in, so close you could feel the heat radiating from him.

“You think this is a game?” he growled, his voice a mix of anger and desire.

“It is a game,” you shot back, your tone defiant despite the racing of your heart. “And you love playing it.”

His lips curled into a predatory smirk. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice low and dangerous. “But this time, I’m winning.”

Before you could reply, his lips crashed into yours, capturing them in a searing kiss that stole your breath and obliterated any remaining semblance of control. His grip tightened, his body pressing you further into the wall as if he couldn’t get close enough.

And in that moment, the game you both loved so much ceased to exist—replaced by something far more raw, far more consuming.

You melted into the kiss, the weight of months of tension crashing down on you like the storm outside. This was no ordinary kiss—this was a release, a surrender, a chaotic collision of emotions you could no longer suppress. Your free hand tangled in his damp hair, your nails dragging against his scalp, earning a deep, guttural groan from him that sent shivers down your spine.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything. Messy, desperate, and consuming. His lips moved against yours with a frantic hunger, as though he needed this as much as air. Your tongues tangled in an unrelenting rhythm, tasting, exploring, devouring each other like you’d been starving for this moment. Saliva dripped from the corner of your mouths, but neither of you cared. This was raw, unrestrained, born out of months of pent-up tension and an unspoken longing that you could no longer deny.

Your nails scraped harder against his scalp as you pulled him impossibly closer, eliciting another growl that reverberated deep in his chest. His hands roamed your body, rough and possessive, as though staking his claim, and you welcomed it. The wall behind you felt cool against your back, a sharp contrast to the heat raging between you.

For so long, you’d told yourself this was just a game—a dangerous dance of wit and desire. But now, pressed against him, feeling the raw power of his presence and the undeniable passion in his touch, you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. You loved him. You wanted him. Not as an enemy, not as a rival, but as yours. Completely, utterly yours.

Your lips broke apart for the briefest second, just enough to suck in a shaky breath before diving back in, your teeth catching his bottom lip and tugging. His growl deepened, his grip on your wrist tightening, and you felt his restraint teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“Eobard,” you gasped against his lips, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and surrender.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice hoarse, his forehead pressed against yours. His breath came in ragged pants, his eyes blazing as they locked onto yours. “Say what you’ve been dying to tell me.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you stared into his eyes, the storm raging both inside and out. “I want you,” you admitted, your voice soft but firm. “All of you. No more games, no more lies. I want you, Eobard.”

His lips crushed against yours again, harder, deeper, as though sealing your confession with his own.

Eobard’s grip shifted as his free hand darted up to seize your other wrist, pinning both of them above your head with ease. His fingers wrapped tightly around your wrists, holding them together in one powerful hand, his dominance making your pulse race. You were completely at his mercy, and the thrill of it sent a jolt of heat through your body.

His lips left yours, moving hungrily to your jaw and trailing down your neck. His kisses were rough, desperate, interspersed with nips of his teeth that made you gasp. Each press of his lips, each scrape of his teeth against your sensitive skin, was a reminder of the power he held over you—and how much you loved it.

His free hand moved with deliberate intent, sliding down your side, feeling the curves of your body through your suit. His fingers traced the line of your waist, down to your hip, before gliding back up to cup your breast. The pressure of his hand was firm but teasing, his thumb brushing over the fabric, just enough to make your breath hitch.

You squirmed beneath him, testing his grip on your wrists, but it only made him tighten his hold, pinning you more securely to the wall. His breath was hot against your neck as he kissed the spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there before he murmured, “Stay still, or I’ll make sure you do.”

The warning sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, and you bit your lip, torn between wanting to defy him and wanting to obey. His hand continued its exploration, his touch firm and confident, as though he’d spent months imagining this moment and now couldn’t get enough of you.

“Eobard…” you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and defiance.

His lips curved into a wicked grin against your neck as his hand squeezed your breast, his thumb flicking over the fabric teasingly. “Say my name again,” he growled, his voice low and full of barely contained hunger.

You tilted your head back against the wall, giving him better access to your neck, and whispered his name again, softer this time, but with just as much desperation. His grip on you tightened, his lips claiming your skin as his own. You were completely at his mercy, and you never wanted it to end.

Eobard pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his blue eyes alight with smug satisfaction. His hand still explored your body, teasing, tantalizing, as his lips brushed against your ear. “I like seeing you like this,” he murmured, his voice a velvet growl. “Helpless. At my mercy. Tell me, Y/N, how does it feel to know you’re completely mine right now?”

Your heart raced, heat pooling in your core at his words, but you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand so easily. Despite the way his touch made you melt, you forced a smirk to your lips, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “Enjoy it while you can, Eobard,” you shot back, your tone laced with defiance. “It’s only a matter of time before the tables turn.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. “Always so confident, even when you’re nothing but a puddle in my hands.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say another word, he was gone. A blur of red lightning shot across the room, and in the blink of an eye, he was back, holding a length of rope in his hand.

“Let’s see about that confidence,” he said with a wicked grin. Before you could react, he moved faster than you could process. One moment, your wrists were pinned against the wall, and the next, they were tied together, the rope snug around them. You barely had time to register the shift before the world blurred again, his speed carrying you both to another part of the hangar.

When he finally stopped, you found yourself suspended by your bound wrists, dangling from a hook on the ceiling. The position left your body stretched out, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy.

“I’ll need both my hands,” he explained with a smug shrug, his smirk practically oozing arrogance. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the sight of you hanging there, helpless and completely his.

A shiver ran through your body, not from fear, but from the delicious anticipation coursing through your veins. You could feel the power of his gaze, the weight of his desire, and it made your breath hitch.

You knew, of course, that you could phase out of the ropes at any moment. The power to free yourself was there, lingering just beneath the surface. But you didn’t want to. The thrill of surrender, of letting him have control, was intoxicating.

“You look perfect like this,” he murmured, stepping closer, his hands trailing over your sides as he drank in the sight of you. “Now, where were we?”

His fingers found the edge of your leather vest, and with a slow, teasing motion, he began to undo it, one snap at a time. The sound echoed in the empty hangar, each click heightening your anticipation.

When the vest fell open, revealing the thin tank top beneath, his smirk deepened. “So little beneath all that armor,” he remarked, his tone dripping with mockery and desire. His fingers brushed over the fabric, his touch feather-light as he explored the contours of your body. “What are you hiding under here, hmm?”

Without warning, he grabbed the neckline of your tank top and, with a sharp tug, tore it apart as though it was nothing more than paper. The sudden exposure sent a gasp tumbling from your lips as the cool, damp air hit your bare skin. Your nipples hardened instantly, both from the cold and the heady mixture of anticipation and desire flooding your veins.

Eobard’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his gaze so intense it felt like it burned. “Beautiful,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. His hands moved to your breasts, caressing them with a maddening gentleness that had you straining against the ropes. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

When you arched your back in response, he chuckled darkly. “Sensitive, aren’t we?” he teased, pinching one nipple just hard enough to make you gasp, the sharp edge of pain mixing deliciously with the pleasure.

Before you could respond, his lips replaced his hands, his hot mouth closing over your nipple. The warmth of his tongue against your cold, sensitive skin made you cry out, your body arching toward him instinctively. He licked and sucked, alternating between gentle flicks of his tongue and rougher nips of his teeth that had your breath catching in your throat.

His hands weren’t idle, either. While his mouth worshipped one breast, his fingers toyed with the other, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers until you were trembling in his grasp. The combination of his lips, tongue, and hands was overwhelming, and you felt like you were unraveling under his touch.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with amusement and desire. “Is it the cold? Or is it me?”

“Shut up,” you managed to whisper, though your voice was breathless and shaky, betraying just how much power he had over you in that moment.

He chuckled again, the sound sending vibrations through your skin as he kissed and licked his way to your other breast. “Oh, I think we both know the answer to that,” he said, his voice low and smug as he began his merciless assault all over again.

Eobard’s mouth trailed down from your breast, his lips hot and deliberate as he worked his way lower, leaving a blazing path on your skin. His fingers slid down your sides, slow and teasing, making you squirm against the ropes that held your wrists above your head. He looked up at you, his eyes gleaming with unrestrained desire, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re awfully quiet now,” he murmured, his voice thick and taunting. “Where’s that sharp tongue of yours, hmm? Or have I finally rendered you speechless?”

Your eyes met his, and despite the heat pooling in your core, you managed a smirk. “You wish,” you shot back, though your voice was breathless, trembling with the weight of what he was doing to you.

“Oh, I do,” he admitted with a dark chuckle, his hands resting on your hips, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your suit pants. “But we both know you’re too stubborn to give me the satisfaction.”

Eobard’s smirk deepened as his hands slid lower, fingers curling around the waistband of your leather pants. He moved with agonizing slowness, his eyes locked on yours, drinking in every twitch of your expression as he began to ease the material down your hips. The cool air brushed against your skin as he revealed more of you, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks, but you refused to look away.

“Still so defiant,” he mused, his tone mocking as he tugged your pants further down, past your thighs, his fingers lingering a little too long against your bare skin. “But you can’t hide it, Y/N,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. “Not from me.”

Finally, he pulled your pants free, followed by your boots, leaving you suspended in nothing but your panties. His gaze drifted downward, and when he saw the damp spot between your legs, his lips curled into a wicked grin. “Look at you,” he taunted, his fingers brushing lightly over the fabric, making you gasp. “Soaked. You try to act like you’re in control, but your body tells the truth.”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a verbal response. Instead, you tilted your head, meeting his gaze with a smirk of your own. “And you’re any better?” you teased, your voice sultry and filled with challenge. Lifting your leg slightly, you pressed your foot against the unmistakable bulge straining against his pants.

Eobard groaned, the sound low and guttural, his head tipping back for the briefest moment before his eyes snapped back to yours, burning with unrestrained hunger. “You’ll pay for that,” he growled, his tone laced with both frustration and amusement.

Without another word, he grabbed your leg and wrapped it around his waist, his other hand slipping to your hip to hold you steady. He pressed himself against you, grinding his erection against your core, the friction making you gasp as heat pooled in your belly. The ropes above you creaked slightly with the force of his movements, a reminder that you had no way to stop him even if you wanted to.

“You can’t move. You can’t fight me. You’re completely at my mercy,” he murmured against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he spoke. His hand trailed down your thigh, gripping firmly as he ground against you again, making you whimper despite yourself.

“And yet,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling but still holding a note of defiance, “you’re the one losing control.”

Eobard chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “Oh, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “If I’m losing control, it’s because you make me crave you in ways I didn’t think possible.”

His hips pressed against you harder, the heat and pressure making you arch into him instinctively. Suspended as you were, you could do nothing but feel, and oh, how he made you feel. The friction, the dominance in his every move, the sheer hunger in his gaze—it was intoxicating, overwhelming, and utterly irresistible.

Eobard’s smirk grew darker, more predatory, as his hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding the spot just above your clit through the damp fabric of your panties. The contact sent a jolt through you, and you gasped, your body instinctively arching toward him, seeking more of the pressure you desperately craved.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured, his tone thick with satisfaction as his fingers began to move, teasing you with maddening slowness. “You try so hard to fight me, to pretend you’re unaffected, but here you are, trembling at just a touch.”

Before you could muster a retort, he shifted gears—quite literally. His hand began to vibrate with his speed, the sensation unlike anything you’d ever felt before. The vibrations pulsed through your core, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You gasped loudly, the sound echoing in the vast, empty hangar, your head tipping back as the intensity overwhelmed you.

“Eobard!” you cried, your voice breaking into a moan as his hand worked you over with unrelenting precision. The friction against your clit, even through the thin barrier of your panties, was almost too much to bear. Your body arched helplessly against the ropes, your wrists straining against your bonds as you writhed beneath his touch.

He chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck as he leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “That’s it,” he purred, his voice dark and full of triumph. “Say my name. Scream it for me. Let the whole world hear how I make you fall apart.”

“Damn you,” you managed to curse, though the words were drowned out by the moan that followed as he pressed harder, the vibrations sending you spiraling into a haze of pleasure. Your breathing became ragged, your moans growing louder, your voice reverberating through the cavernous space. Outside, the storm raged on, thunder rumbling and lightning illuminating the room in fleeting bursts, as if the chaos of the weather mirrored the tempest between the two of you.

“Eobard,” you moaned again, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and a curse all at once. Each sound only seemed to spur him on, his smirk growing as he reveled in your unraveling.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his tone dripping with both approval and possessiveness. “Let go for me. Let me see you completely lose yourself.”

And as his hand continued its relentless assault, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with the raw, electrifying pleasure he pulled from you.

His smirk never wavered as he slowly untangled your legs from his waist, guiding them back to the floor. Your feet touched the cold, wet concrete, but the chill was nothing compared to the heat coursing through your body. You barely had time to steady yourself, still trembling from the intensity of his touch, before his hands slid down to the waistband of your soaked panties.

Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and tugged them down, letting them fall to the floor around your ankles. His eyes gleamed as he took in the sight of you, completely bare before him, still suspended and unable to resist him even if you wanted to.

“You’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent, though the wicked edge in his tone remained. “And so ready for me.”

Before you could even catch your breath, his fingers found their way between your legs, one plunging deep into your heat without warning. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your body arching against the ropes as he curled his finger inside you, finding that sensitive spot with maddening precision.

“Fuck, Eobard,” you gasped, your voice echoing through the hangar as your head fell back.

“Not so defiant now, are you?” he taunted, his smirk growing as he began to move his finger, slow and deliberate at first, letting you feel every inch of him. Then, just as your breathing began to steady, he used his speed once more, making his hand vibrate as he worked you over.

The sensation was electric, unlike anything you’d ever felt. The vibrations coursed through your core, setting every nerve alight. You let out a sharp moan, your voice rising above the sound of the storm raging outside, lightning flashing through the windows and illuminating the primal hunger in his gaze.

“Eobard,” you moaned, your body trembling as his hand continued its relentless assault. The vibrations, the pressure, the way he moved inside you—it was all too much, and yet you craved more. Your wrists strained against the ropes as you writhed under his touch, completely at his mercy.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re completely undone, and I’ve barely even started.”

You tried to muster a reply, a retort, anything to salvage the tiniest shred of control, but all that escaped your lips was a shaky moan as he added another finger, stretching you just enough to make your knees buckle. His free hand gripped your hip, steadying you, holding you in place as he continued to drive you closer and closer to the edge.

“Say my name,” he demanded, his tone commanding, as his fingers moved faster, the vibrations intensifying. “Let me hear you fall apart for me.”

And you couldn’t resist. His name tumbled from your lips in a broken cry, your body surrendering completely to the overwhelming pleasure he gave you.

Eobard’s fingers continued their relentless pace, plunging into you deeply, the vibrations of his speed sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. His thumb found your clit, circling it in slow, deliberate motions that had you gasping and arching against your bonds. The intensity was overwhelming, a perfect combination of pressure, friction, and raw electricity that left you trembling.

His free hand roamed upward, his touch warm and possessive as he cupped your breast, his fingers kneading the soft flesh before his thumb teased your sensitive nipple. You moaned, your head falling back, every nerve in your body lighting up under his skilled touch.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a sultry mix of adoration and mockery as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your throat. “Completely at my mercy. You’re beautiful like this.”

His mouth found the sensitive skin of your neck, kissing and nibbling as his teeth grazed just enough to make you whimper. The combination of his fingers, his lips, and the vibrations coursing through your core was maddening. Your body trembled as he worked you over, his movements precise and unrelenting, bringing you closer and closer to the edge with every second.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he whispered against your ear, his tone soft but laced with smugness. “I can feel it—the way you tighten around my fingers, the way your breath catches.” His thumb pressed harder against your clit, his movements quickening as he matched the rhythm of his fingers. “Don’t hold back, Y/N. Let go for me.”

The sound of his voice—low, commanding, and dripping with desire—was enough to make your resolve crumble. He pressed another kiss to your throat, his teeth sinking lightly into your skin as he added, “Cum for me. Let me see you fall apart.”

His words sent you over the edge. Pleasure crashed through you like a tidal wave, your body arching against your bonds as you cried out his name, your voice reverberating through the hangar. Your legs shook, your toes curling as he kept his pace, prolonging your release, drawing every last bit of ecstasy from you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice softening into something almost tender as he slowed his movements, letting you ride the waves of your orgasm. “So perfect. So beautiful.”

You sagged against the ropes, your body spent and trembling, your breathing ragged as the storm inside you began to calm. Eobard pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his smirk still in place as he pulled back to admire the aftermath of what he had done to you.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he said, his tone firm but laced with a possessive pride. “Never forget that.”

Your body trembled uncontrollably, the aftershocks of your orgasm still coursing through you, leaving you breathless and lightheaded. It had been too good—so intense that your legs barely held you up, even with the ropes keeping you suspended. But through the haze of pleasure, your eyes found Eobard, and your heart skipped a beat.

He stood there, his chest heaving, his eyes watching you with a mix of triumph and raw desire. He was powerful, commanding, and impossibly sexy. Everything about him screamed danger and dominance, and yet the way he looked at you made you feel like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Your gaze softened, pure love and adoration mixing with the unrelenting hunger that still burned inside you. He had undone you completely, but somehow, you wanted more. You wanted all of him.

And yet, you couldn’t resist taunting him. A smirk tugged at the corners of your lips, and you tilted your head, your voice breathless but laced with defiance. “That’s all you’ve got?”

Eobard laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the empty hangar. He loved this about you—how you never backed down, how you always challenged him, even when he’d left you shaking and undone. “You’re insatiable,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement and pride. “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

With slow, deliberate movements, he stepped back, his hands going to the zipper of his yellow suit. His eyes stayed locked on yours as he peeled the suit away, revealing the simple black shirt and dark pants underneath. He slid the suit off completely, tossing it aside.

His hands moved to the waistband of his pants, his smirk never faltering as he popped the button and slowly dragged down the zipper. His erection sprang free, hard and ready, the sight sending another wave of heat through you. He made no move to undress further, his black shirt still perfectly in place, the slight dishevelment only adding to his commanding allure.

When your eyes dropped to his arousal, you couldn’t help but bite your lip. “God,” you murmured, your voice trembling with unrestrained want. “You’re going to destroy me, aren’t you?”

Eobard chuckled darkly, stepping closer. His hands found your hips, gripping them firmly as he pressed himself against you. The hard length of him brushed against your sensitive core, and you shuddered at the contact. “Oh, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’ll be begging for it.”

With effortless strength, he lifted your legs, wrapping them around his waist, pulling you even closer. The intimacy of the position made your heart race, and your breath hitched when you felt him press harder against you, teasing, taunting.

Then, with surprising tenderness, he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. His voice softened as he whispered, “Lift your hands, sweetheart.”

You hesitated for a moment, the warmth of his voice catching you off guard. Slowly, you raised your bound wrists, and with a single, smooth motion, Eobard lifted you just enough to free the rope from the hook above you. Your arms, still tied together, instinctively wrapped around his neck, and you held on tightly, your chest pressing against his as he cradled you effortlessly.

He carried you across the hangar, his steps deliberate and steady, the ropes still tight around your wrists a reminder of the control he wielded. When he reached the nearest wall, he pinned you against it, the cold metal shocking against your bare skin and making you gasp.

Eobard leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a fleeting, teasing kiss, his voice low and commanding. “Hold on tight.”

Using the wall for support, he adjusted his position, his hand sliding between your bodies as he aligned himself at your entrance. You felt the tip of him press against you, the anticipation making your breath quicken.

Then, with one smooth, fluid motion, he thrust into you, filling you completely. A cry escaped your lips, the sensation overwhelming as he stretched you, his size and speed making your body tremble. Your nails dug into the back of his neck as you clung to him, your legs tightening around his waist as he began to move.

Eobard groaned, his breath hot against your ear as he buried himself in you again and again. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick with desire. “So tight, so ready… all for me.”

Eobard didn’t hold back, his thrusts deep and relentless, each one hitting you with enough force to make the metal wall behind you creak. He moved with precision, angling his hips perfectly to drive his thick length into you, his swollen glans brushing that spongy, sensitive spot deep inside you with every stroke. The sensation sent shockwaves through your entire body, and you cried out, your nails digging into the back of his neck as you clung to him for dear life.

His breathing was heavy and ragged, his lips brushing against your neck as he groaned deeply, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin, his tongue flicking over the spots that made you gasp, his teeth grazing your flesh just enough to leave a lingering sting. His sounds—low, guttural moans and growls of pleasure—filled your ears, driving you wild as they mingled with the storm raging outside.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice rough and strained as he buried himself in you over and over. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you down onto him to meet every powerful thrust. “So tight, so wet… you’re mine, Y/N. Every part of you.”

The pressure was almost too much, the friction of his thick length dragging against your walls, the relentless pace of his hips slamming into you, and the way his glans hit that perfect spot inside you with maddening accuracy. Your body trembled with every thrust, your legs tightening around his waist as you tried to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensation.

“Eobard,” you whimpered, your voice trembling, your head falling back against the wall as you lost yourself in the pleasure.

He groaned louder at the sound of his name on your lips, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Say it again.” His teeth nipped at your earlobe, his hips snapping harder, faster, as he drove into you with a punishing rhythm that made you see stars.

“Eobard,” you cried out again, the sound echoing in the hangar as your body arched into him, desperate for more. Each thrust sent another jolt of pleasure coursing through you, your walls clenching around him as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

His lips found yours in a messy, desperate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he groaned into your mouth. The sounds he made—low, guttural, and full of raw need—were enough to send you spiraling, the heat building in your core threatening to consume you entirely.

“You’re going to cum for me,” he growled, his voice a mix of command and encouragement. “I can feel it, Y/N. You’re so close.”

You could only moan in response, your words lost to the intensity of his thrusts, each one harder and deeper than the last. Your body tightened around him, your nails scraping against his shoulders as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core, ready to snap.

The tension inside you reached its breaking point, the overwhelming sensation building until it felt like your body couldn’t take any more. With one particularly deep thrust, Eobard’s glans pressed perfectly against that spongy spot inside you, and the coil in your core snapped. Pleasure exploded through you like a lightning strike, your walls clamping down around him as you cried out his name, your voice echoing through the hangar.

Your body convulsed in his arms, shaking violently as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through you. Your toes curled, your nails dug into his shoulders, and your legs tightened around his waist as you clung to him, completely undone. The intensity stole your breath, your head falling back against the wall as the world blurred around you.

Eobard groaned loudly, his head dropping to your neck as he felt you squeeze around him. “Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice filled with awe and unrestrained desire. “That’s it… just like that. Let me feel you. Let me feel how much you need me.”

He didn’t slow down, his hips continuing to drive into you relentlessly, prolonging your orgasm and sending shockwaves of pleasure through your oversensitive body. “God, you’re incredible,” he growled, his lips brushing against your neck. “The way you feel around me… so tight, so perfect. Do you feel that? Do you feel how your body reacts to me?”

Your moans mixed with sobs of pleasure as you nodded weakly, unable to form words. The way he moved inside you, the way he talked—so commanding, so confident—kept you on the edge, your body trembling as the aftershocks of your release left you breathless.

“I told you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with smug satisfaction. “You’d be begging for it. Look at you, Y/N. Completely ruined for anyone else. You’re mine.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust, making you cry out again, your nails raking down his back.

“You love this, don’t you?” he continued, his tone softening, though it still carried that dark, possessive edge. “The way I make you feel. Admit it. Admit that you’re mine.”

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice trembling as your body shuddered against him. “Eobard… I’m yours.”

Hearing those words sent a deep groan rumbling from his chest. He kissed you fiercely, his lips capturing yours in a messy, desperate kiss as he chased his own release. His movements became rougher, his breathing ragged, and the sounds of his pleasure—low moans and growls—sent another wave of heat coursing through you.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he muttered against your lips, his thrusts growing erratic. “You have no idea what you do to me, Y/N. I can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop wanting you.”

His words, his voice, his relentless pace—all of it overwhelmed you, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of another release, your body trembling in his grasp. Eobard sensed it too, his lips brushing your ear as he groaned, “Cum for me again, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart for me one more time.”

The fire building in your core reignited, stronger and hotter than before. Eobard’s relentless thrusts, the deep growls vibrating in your ear, and the filthy way he spoke to you—claiming you, worshiping you—drove you straight to the edge. Your body trembled violently, your breaths coming in sharp gasps as he pushed you higher and higher, every movement of his thick length brushing perfectly against your most sensitive spot.

When the coil snapped this time, it wasn’t just pleasure—it was an eruption. Your third orgasm tore through you with raw, uncontrollable intensity, your entire body convulsing in his arms. A scream ripped from your throat, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as your walls clamped down around him, squeezing him with every wave of your release. Your vision blurred, your head falling back against the wall as white-hot ecstasy consumed you, your body trembling violently from the sheer force of it.

Eobard groaned deeply, his hips stuttering as your climax pulled him right along with you. “Y/N!” he cried out, his voice strained, desperate, as he buried himself as deeply as he could, his body tensing. The sudden, overwhelming pressure of your tight, pulsing heat sent him over the edge, and his own release hit him like a bolt of lightning.

He came hard—harder than he ever had in his life. His entire body convulsed, his head falling to your shoulder as he moaned loudly, his voice raw and unrestrained. His hips jerked uncontrollably as he spilled into you, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through him, leaving him shaking and gasping for air. His hands gripped your hips tightly, as if grounding himself against the overwhelming sensations ripping through him.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice hoarse, his breaths ragged. “I’ve… never—God, you’ve ruined me.”

You clung to him, your arms still wrapped around his neck as you trembled against him, your body still quaking with aftershocks. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes glazed over with satisfaction and something deeper—something softer.

As your heartbeats slowed and the storm inside you began to calm, he gently shifted his grip, his hands moving to support your waist. Carefully, he unwrapped your legs from around his hips and lowered you to the ground. Your feet touched the cold concrete, and he steadied you immediately, one arm slipping around your waist to hold you upright as your legs wobbled beneath you.

“Easy,” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. His usual sharp arrogance was replaced with surprising tenderness as he kept you close, ensuring you didn’t fall. “I’ve got you.”

You leaned against him, still breathless, as he reached for the rope binding your wrists. With a quick, decisive snap, the knot came undone, and the tension eased from your arms. You sighed in relief as he pulled the rope away, his hands immediately moving to your wrists. He massaged the tender skin where the rope had bitten into you, his thumbs circling gently over the marks, his touch warm and soothing.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice low and filled with quiet concern.

You shook your head, though the ache was still there. “Not much,” you whispered, your lips curving into a small smile. “I think I’ll survive.”

Eobard’s lips quirked into a smirk at your response, though his hands remained gentle as he continued to rub away the discomfort. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the glimmer of his usual cocky demeanor returned. “Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured, echoing his earlier words, though his voice now carried a teasing warmth. “Unless you’re ready to finish what you started.”

You couldn’t help but grin, despite your exhaustion. “I told you I would,” you replied, your voice soft but laced with triumph. “And I always keep my promises.”

Eobard chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You’re dangerous, Y/N,” he murmured against your skin, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and amusement. “But God, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

You rested your head against his chest, letting his steady heartbeat ground you as you finally came down from the high. His arms stayed around you, holding you close, and for a moment, the storm outside seemed to quiet, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the aftermath.

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