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gilverrwrites · 1 month 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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