Imagine having a yandere that feels obsessive hate for you instead of love?? RF would be perfect for this.
Maybe y/n was related to Barry in some way, and became a replacement. He loves to make them cry; the more unhappy y/n is the more attached he gets.
He’ll devote all of his time to ruin y/n’s life in every way possible, and just like with Barry, he’ll want y/n to know that it’s all because of him. He needs the attention and acknowledgment!!
But at the same time he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt y/n; he’s the only one allowed to torment his ‘darling’. He’d rescue them from any trouble in a heartbeat, and then he’d probably mock and ridicule y/n for getting in trouble in the first place…
Featuring: Kyle Rayner, Dr. Doom, Elektra Natchios, Eobard Thawne, Vic Stone, Akihiro/Daken, Marc Spector....and you ;) [3.4 K]
a/n: don't be an overachiever like me
cw: SMUT/18+ only, manipulation (Daken), possessive behavior, jealousy, gn!reader (no description of features and clothing)
masterlist ao3 requests
PREVIEW:
...but thankfully, this dating guide should help you out with that.
Featuring DC Characters: Kyle Rayner, Vic Stone, Eobard Thawne
Featuring Marvel Characters: Akihiro/Daken, Dr. Doom, Elektra Natchios, Marc Spector (18+)
Kyle Rayner:
Style Of Affection: Kyle is exuberant, Kyle lavishes affection. He's eager to press a kiss to the crown of your forehead, to the slope of your shoulder, to the crook of your arm. Whenever the two of you walk around in public, he wants to hold hands and shoots you a pout if you deny him for any practical reason ("Oh, so you hate me, then?"). In private, he always has a casual arm or leg draped over you. He wants to be touching you, he wants to be near you—he's like an excitable golden retriever who needs constant affirmation of love.
Dates: Everything is either meticulously planned once every 1.5 business years or spur-of-the-moment. The two of you can be found in a hole-in-the-wall pho place, eating street vendor burgers as the two of you go to the indie movie theater, painting each other in the comfort of your apartment while popcorn burns in the microwave—he's always down for an adventure, big or small. And you're happy to do it with him.
Gifts: Kyle gets you gifts that range all across the spectrum. It could be anything from that pair of shoes you were eyeing in the window, to a meticulously painted portrait of you that he's chipped away at over the course of months, to a nice rock he spotted on a faraway planet because he "thought you'd like it." And you always appreciate all of them.
Kissing? He's an exuberant kisser, to say the least. There's always energy and passion stored in every kiss, intention laced in the way that he presses his mouth against yours. There's always desperate longing written into the way that his lips find you, as though he'll never get another chance and he needs to savor this as much as he can.
What Kind of Lover Are They? He's so, so eager to please. You want him to go down on you for hours? Can do, baby. You want to try something slow and sensual? Say no more. You want to fuck? He's already stripping and ready to go. He wants to make sure that you're always satisfied.
Jealousy? Kyle gets jealous, but it shows very easily. He gravitates towards you if there's a hint of any competition, but he's quick to verbalize his feelings the second the two of you have a moment of privacy—though it almost always shows on his face the second it registers. You always reassure him, and he always bounces back quickly.
Do They Say I Love You? Often, constantly, frequently. Never wants the two of you to part ways without him making sure you've exchanged it. Says it before the two of you go to sleep, before you head out to work. Always always always.
Akihiro/Daken:
Style of Affection: He keeps you on a tight leash, so to speak—whenever the two of you are in a room together, he ensures that he keeps his hand hefted over your shoulder. If it embarrasses you, the way that his palm and wandering fingers loom over your chest, far too low down your back—even on the slope of your ass—any complain you make will fall on deaf ears. And if you complain too much—he'll just be able to use his powers to mollify any request for leniency on your part. You'll acquiesce eventually.
Dates: His favorite type of date is doing something indulgent, opulent, and in pursuit of his own self-gratification. Whether that's a pulsating, pounding club that he guides you into the center so that he can make sure that everyone knows who you belong to—or if it's the bathroom later so that the two of you can snort coke off the toilet seat—or if it's hopping in a sleek limo with less-than-savory characters to "have a few drinks—"—he's all or it. And you're tagging along for the adrenaline rush that he gets off of it.
Gifts: That's a nice thought. You already have the gift of him and any alcohol or drugs that he wants to ply you with—what more could you ask for?
Kissing? Whenever he kisses you, it's always so that you can get a taste of whatever was on his tongue last—blood, alcohol, pills, the taste of your orgasm—and he always makes it feel like it's your last.
What Kind of Lover Are They? He's a selfish lover—always demanding that you stay sucking his cock for hours, edging him so that he can come all over your face. Using you like the fuckdoll that he wants to treat you with—if you're uncomfortable with the position he wants, that's okay; he'll just use his phermone manipulation to make sure that you're fine with it. You always come around eventually—and come on his cock, to think of it.
Jealous? He's very easily made jealous, but he doesn't take care to mince words. He'll speak his mind and make sure that you take extra, extra time in the bedroom to make sure that you're very sorry for making him worry about the status of your relationship like that.
Do They Say I Love You? Nah.
Elektra Natchios:
Affection: Subtle but intentional. She wakes you up with a lingering kiss to your cheek, will press a kiss to the inside of your wrist on occasion in public, will drape a hand down your cheek. But never anything too ostentatious unless she has the privilege of your privacy—and everything is charged with a low, simmering energy.
Dates: Everything you go on is deliberately composed—to a penthouse sushi restaurant, to a stylish orchestral concert in Madison Square Garden, to a destination resort vacation. You are always informed of them ahead of time and with exacting expectation that you make time for them in your schedule, which you do.
Gifts: She's an excellent gift-giver, and she always gets you what you want. You don't even need to hint—anytime you even so much as set longing glance on something, it's yours. She always delivers it at perfect occasion—the trip you mentioned might be fun one day, the book you read the back of with vested interest in the bookstore. You don't want for anything with her.
Kissing? She always kisses you with slow-burning, simmering intensity—starting slow, gentle—before crescendoing in passion as her hands search you out, as her tongue licks up yours. Always, always leaving you breathless for more.
What Kind of Lover Are They? She's a giver, for certain, but she enjoys drawing it out of you. Always loves torturing you with intentionally deliberate pace—she relishes the act of making you so flustered and bereft of coherent thought until she can finally make you come. Then she'll do it all over again.
Jealous? She gets jealous in the sense that she expresses herself with jealous physicality. Her touch loiters on your body, her arms ruck around you, her words—though never directed at you—become clipped, direct, indicating the souring of mood. She's slow to have her jealousy soothed, but always comes out of it eventually.
Do They Say I Love You? Often. She makes sure to say it to you with every kiss, after you collapse next to her sweaty in bed, before she leaves for her work. Every time you never doubt if she means it.
Victor Stone:
Affection: Vic is an earnest man, and is intent to make sure that you're aware of his love for you. Holding hands, chaste, gentle kisses to your cheek in public, compliments he pays you about how good your hair looks or how cute your smile is or how good that outfit looks on you—sending you smiles and winks from across the room. Leaving you goofy yet sweet post-it notes on the kitchen counter or the bathroom window.
Dates: Vic always puts in the effort to make sure that you have a great time, wherever the two of you go; and he makes suer to put variety into the experience. If you're going to the movies, he's getting you both the nicest seats, the candy that you like, drizzling extra butter on the popcorn, and paying for it all. If the two of you are going out to a fancy dinner, then it's your favorite place or that one you've been drooling over whenever you see it on your FYP, and he's covering the bill. Everything is always layered with deliberate aim to make sure that you know he cares about making you happy.
Gifts: Vic always buys you things that are across the gamut of things that you like, all across the spectrum of extravagance—to a scarf that he thought brought out the color of your eyes. To the tickets to a concert to the band you've been playing in the car the most often. To a homemade birthday cake that he made just for you, right after the dinner with all your friends that he invited (and he didn't even have to ask for their phone numbers).
Kissing? He always errs on the side of caution just because of the cybernetic enhancements, so he's always a gentle kisser. You're the one that has to encourage him to crank up the heat a little bit, which he always acquiesces to—by degrees. It's just him playing overcautious, which is kind of endearing, but not always when you want to get in his pants.
What Kind of Lover Are They? He's super considerate to your needs and how you're feeling in bed—he just wants to commit the touch of you, the taste of you to what physical parts of his body remain as well as what the receptors of his cybernetic parts detect—both are pleasurable for him in different ways. Prefers lovemaking to fucking, especially considering the enhanced strength he has—but if you ask when the moment's right, you'll find your diligent efforts rewarded ;)
Jealous? Vic is fairly confident in the security of your relationship, so it takes a lot to rattle his faith in you. If there's ever a sliver of doubt, he goes about communicating with you pretty openly and honestly to make sure the two of you can get to an understanding resolution.
Do They Say I Love You? Vic was the first to say 'I love you,' and is always the first one to say it every single time afterwards. The squeeze of both of his hands—one mechanical, the other flesh and blood—feel warm against yours, paired with the love that speaks in his eyes as he says it, every single time.
Victor Von Doom:
Affection: Doom is possessive, Doom is controlling, Doom is dictatorial. Doom chose you because he wanted you and knew that it wasn't a matter of if he would have you, it was a matter of when he would have you. He wants to make sure that you are always in the room with him whenever he can afford it—and he always can. You are known to all his advisors, his counsel, his people—and so you must always be by his side. And he must, of course, always have a hand on you, for you are his.
Dates: It's not a matter of money, that's always no issue. It's a matter of what you want and how quickly it can be arranged for you, which is always in fashionable, timely manner. Do you want to be able to dine in the Alps with violin quartet? It's done. Do you want to enjoy banquet-style Chinese made tableside with entertainment? It shall be completed—whatever you want, it is given.
Gifts: Of course, nice, lavish, expensive things—but in the sense that while money talks, wealth whispers. Everything is of finest quality—the clothing that he buys crafted from your exact measurements, the jewelry that he requires you wear, the weapons that he ensures you have finest tutelage to train with. They are deliberately made with you in mind.
Kissing? You have never kissed Doom—at least, not without the ability to see him. Every time, due to that issue of vanity—you are required to be blindfolded, as a pair of warm hands find the edge of your jaw and a mouth marred with injury presses against yours. If this is how you receive it—then you are pleased to do so.
What Kind of Lover Are They? Again, vanity limits what you can see, but you feel everything—though Doom exacts his control here. You are always blindfolded and bound in some way—by wrists, on your knees, face-down—but he's well-versed and generous. You never lack for orgasm whenever the two of you share a bed.
Jealousy? Doom always seethes with jealousy the second that any other competitor rises to the occasion—though it is subtle and understated. A keen eye would have to know. One such example was when the Fantastic Four arrived and Johnny Storm requested a dance from you—social niceties requested that you dance with him, under the imperious glare of Doom. You were required to soothe his jealousy in bed for several nights after that.
Do They Say I Love You? Never when you can hear—but you're made aware. From the way that when you drift to sleep after sex, the blindfold still affixed to your head, you can feel the drape of implacable fingers soothe into your shoulder. From the way that his hand rests on the small of your back when you both stand at a palatial balcony that overlooks the sea. He need not say it when everything he does expresses it to you in form of action.
Eobard Thawne:
Affection: Always does little things to stake his claim on you, and they're always laden with a subtle kind of aggression that lingers beneath the surface. Presses a kiss to the column of your neck while nipping his teeth at your pulse. Holds a hand over the slope of your waist but makes sure to clench his fingers when he does it. Kisses you but treats it like a battle to be won, and you never win. Wants you, but wants to dominate you at the same time.
Dates: You don't really get a choice in what dates the two of you go on—wherever you go is somewhere expensive, some place where he can lavish money. But it's not really for the purpose of spoiling you; more for the purpose of showing to you and everyone else how you're provided for. How he provides for you.
Gifts: He's vain—things are always connected to him, in a way. He buys you clothes that are revealing for the purpose of him being able to walk around with you as his trophy, sex toys that he can watch you use on yourself—or he just straight up promises the virility of his body as a gift for you.
Kissing? As mentioned before, he's a cruel kisser. Always wanting to have the upper hand, always wanting to bite your bottom lip between his teeth, always squeezing you to throw you off-balance and ensure he can force his tongue into your mouth.
What Kind of Lover Are They? Every time the two of you fuck, you always get fucked into next week at the cost of being able to walk for the next two. He's always brutal, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you, even when you're on the verge of passing out. Always has to have you under him or with your ass in the air—he treats sex as an act of conquest, and he'll be the one exploring this new territory.
Jealousy? Constantly, constantly jealous, especially when there's no reason to be. Has been openly confrontational to whoever he perceives as his opposition to the point where you've had to quickly, frantically reassure him in the moment. But this was also part of the plan you see—as he demonstrates over your shoulder with a cruel smirk to whoever was stepping in on his territory.
Do They Say I Love You? Not at all. But you're certain that he either does—or this is a most visceral obsession indeed. After all—why would he treat you like this?
Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley (Moon Knight):
Affection: Marc is wont to hold your hand, to compliment you on your clothes, your smile today—Steven has to shore up a little more confidence to kiss you on the cheek in front of others. Lockley enjoys pushing you into more secluded spots in public so that he can have his way with you. Marc will praise you for your qualities, Steven will share sweet smiles with you across the room—Lockley will whisper phrases in Spanish in your ear that will have you frantically scanning the room and hoping no one is bilingual.
Dates: It always depends on who's in the driver seat—you can count on Marc taking you to nice, casual affairs; a night to the movies or a bar. Steven is reliable to take you somewhere quietly sensible and romantic—a jazz performance at a local venue, an after-hours museum tour, a gallery exhibition. You and Lockley never get further than the backseat of your darkened car, with him fucking you into next week.
Gifts: All three have a fairly good idea of what to get you; a bottle of your favorite wine, a day at the spa, jewelry commemorated with Egyptian iconography—what differs is how they expect to be thanked. Marc is fine with a kiss and a thank you, Steven is satisfied with a smile and verbal confirmation—Lockley needs something a little more physical.
Kissing? Marc enjoys taking things slow and exploring the nuances of your tongue, your mouth, your body as he feels you up—Steven needs a little more coaxing from you to warm him up to the heat you want from him. It's Lockley that views it as a battle that isn't won unless he has you heaving for breath in state of disarray in the cage of his arms.
What Kind of Lover Are They? Steven's the one who ranges on the more mild end, preferring lovemaking and making sure that your needs are attended to; Marc doesn't mind switching up a few positions every now and then while making sure that the two of you get mutual satisfaction from it all—Lockley's the one who has you breathless and fucked into the mattress with nothing but pleas for him to Please, fuck—don't stop—
Jealousy? All of them demonstrate jealousy in different flavors, but Steven keeps it to himself—Marc makes sure to clear the air and the board with you—and Lockley goes directly to threatening the perpetrator themselves. You have different ways of salvaging all of the situations—but exactly how clothed you'll be depends on which of the three you're dealing with.
Do They Say I Love You? They all say I love you in different ways; Steven is the most free with it while Marc makes sure to reiterate it often enough that you're aware of his intention. Lockley takes care to establish it with the sinew of his body and the protective action that he'll assert for you in the face of any trouble. Regardless—you appreciate all of them.
✧It Was You All Along✧ — Reverse Flash/Eobard Thawne
Warning(s): The usual yandere stuff, Hints of Stalking (if you squint), Eobard being Eobard
Note: This is all based on the concept of Reader/Darling being a magical girl who has similar powers as Homura from Madoka Magica.
Another failure.
Another loop.
Another chance.
You've been running yourself ragged for the past 139 loops. It wasn't enough. You kept failing. Your happiness was so close, but always slipped through your fingers. Like some cruel twist of fate was keeping you away.
It's to the point where you curse fate; spit in its face.
You would achieve your goal. It was all that you had. You will save them. You won't let anyone or anything get in your way.
With a frustrated grunt, you start the loop over, standing in front of their house. You've memorized the routine by now. Your eyes drift around the area. No cars rushing by. There's no signs of a thunderstorm. The tree had been cut down safely. No construction workers. No kids goofing off. Your body is tense, examining for any potential threats.
The sound of a cat running off causes you to flinch, but you take a deep breath. You quickly get to the front door this time and knock gently. A few seconds pass by before...a complete stranger answers the door.
You're confused by the sight of this person. It's not them. That can't be. This was their address. You've always known that and you wouldn't have made a mistake like this. They were your whole world. Your fists clench when the person asks if you're here for anyone.
When you speak the name of your love, they're confused. No one of that name lived here. You inhale deeply and nod. "Thank you for telling me that. I'm sorry to have disrupted you."
They give a soft smile and state that you weren't bothering at all. They wish you well and luck to find your person before closing the door. You step off the porch and stand at the sidewalk, mind racing.
Something is wrong here.
You felt so stiff now. What the hell was going on? Where are they? There's no way they moved before you got here since this was the same time and day you kept looping back. Your hands touch the sides of your head, trying to make sense of this.
That's when you hear it.
"Are you lost?"
There was no sympathy or compassion in that tone. Only condescension. It confused you as much as it infuriated you. Your head turns and you see him. For a moment, you almost thought he was Wally—given the bright yellow suit and red accents. However, you immediately can tell it wasn't him. There was a sense of danger surrounding this man. His suit was so similar to the two speedsters you personally knew, but you were drawing a blank with this one.
"...who are you?"
He sighs as if you just asked a stupid question. "I'm rather offended, my darling. After everything I've done for you and yet...you have the gall to ask me that."
The confusion and discomfort you feel just increases. So, you take a step back while you tighten your grip on your magical weapon. That only seems to amuse this man. To him, you're like a skittish cat who needs a bit of coaxing.
A chill goes down your spine when he speaks your name. Your actual name and not the one for your persona. There is no way he should know that. It's more disturbing how he sounds out every syllable of with such sickly sweetness. Again, like he was calling out to a frightened animal.
"You really need to raise your standards, darling. That idiot was a waste of space and not worth your time."
It didn't even take you long to realize who he was talking about. Them. The love of your life...
What was their name again?
The moment that question enters your head, shock starts to form. Then panic. Why can't you remember their name? Why can't you remember their face? Who were they? You try to think back on the memories, but it was all turning into a blur of colors and noise.
"Wh-What the hell have you done...?"
He simply chuckles, enjoying the sight of your expression. So confused. It was absolutely adorable. "You're not the only one who has an expertise in time. Your powers. The loops. It's impressive...but to think you wasted it on some nobody. You could do so much better."
At this point, you were clawing your mind, trying to find a single crumb of the identity of this person. However, there's nothing. You're drawing a blank. Instead, all you can recall are events in your life without...who? You don't remember having anyone that close except for...
Request: flash rogues and eobard if I may how do you feel they would act if they got hit by sex pollen or an aphrodisiac like would they immediately go to their partner to get it out of their system or just wait for a while until it goes away
A/N: My apologies anon, you originally asked for HCs, but I got kind of carried away with them, and now they're little flashfics, hope you enjoy them either way ♡
[Separate] Pairings: Eobard Thawne | Reverse Flash/Reader, Leonard Snart | Captain Cold/Reader, Mick Rory | Heat Wave/Reader, Axel Walker | Trickster II/Reader. Evan McCulloch | Mirror Master II/Reader, & Mark Mardon | Weather Wizard/Reader
Something, someone is touching you. It’s cool, and tingly. Like a million paper soft kisses all over your body at once. Like hot lips, trailing the curves of your body. Like teeth sinking into your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, fast enough that you don’t feel it until it’s nothing but an after-sting.
Something is inside you. Something thick, so thick your pussy feels like it’s being split open. So fast it puts your vibrator to shame.
It feels good—so good that your nails are digging into your bedsheets, your breath is short, your back is arching, whole body is shaking.
“Fuuckkk.”
And all this before you’re even awake enough to register what’s going on.
“Thawne?” You whisper with quivering lips, eyes finally cracking open, taking in the ominous red orbs that stare back at you forebodingly. “Thawne, is that you?”
He shushes you. Unashamedly. Defiantly even, never mind the fact that he'd snuck in here, under cover of night, helping himself to you, using your body without even so much as a hello, how’s it going?
But oh, does it feel good. The speed and pressure. The way he fucks into your weeping pussy without mercy or respite. It’s constant, it’s endless. He could have been having his way with your body for seconds or hours, and your hazy mind wouldn’t have known the difference, but through the fog, you manage to utter his name once more.
In response, his blurred figure comes into focus. Perhaps he slows, but he’s already moving at such a pace it would be impossible to tell the difference.
“Shhuusshhh. I just need you for a while. I need to use your body.” He’s whispering, attempting to placate you, but his typical undertone of condescension fails to give way for something more soothing. His hand crawl up to meet the curve of your throat, squeezing until your breath falls short, and your eyelids start to flutter closed. “Just lie there and let me take what I need.”
Leonard | Denial
Warnings: Rejection, anger, hypothetical mentions non-con and pregnancy
His skin is molten hot. A stark contrast to his typically frigid exterior. Not that you can get a full grasp on him. The moment your fingers make contact with his exposed shoulder, he pulls away from you, red-faced and panting as he hisses. “Get away from me.”
The guys had warned you something was up, that he’d been hit by something nasty and he was even snappier than usual, but his rejection still stung, especially when you could see what he likely the route of his problem pressing painfully tight against his boxers.
“Please, Leonard.” Your pleas are futile. He won’t even look at you. “I only want to help. Let me.”
“I don’t want your help. What if I infect you?” His rebuttals are so Leonard. He’s selfish to a fault, but not when it comes to the people he cares about.
It’s a big part of why you practically worship him so much. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Well, I’m not!” With his back to you, he literally puts his foot down in a sloppy, uncalculated stomp. Whatever chemicals are pumping through his bloodstream are starting to affect more than just his dick.
“So, what, you’re going to suffer in silence? Alone? Tha-”
“Yes... Trust me, I don’t want to.” His tone is scathing as he interrupts you. Nothing like the cool-headed Captain you’ve come to know. Glacial eyes, hemmed by irritated frown lines, stare right into your soul as he finally turns to face you. “You’re making it worse.”
“D’you think I haven’t thought about it? Since I got hit, I’ve thought about nothing but you. All I wanna do is rip your clothes off, bend you over that damn bed and fuck you until my dick falls off. I don’t care if you want it or not, I don’t care if you scream and cry and beg, I’d freeze your limbs solid if I have to. I don’t care if I knock you up, if you’re leaking cum for the rest of your life, if you never walk again. I would give anything to touch you right now.”
A ragged sigh violently rakes through his body, and for a split second, you see a hint of relief in his face, before all his pent-up frustration and fury come flooding back. Coarse fingers, you want to reach out and take in your own, sluggishly reach up to brush through his greying hair. He pulls tight at his scalp before turning his back to you yet again.
“But I can’t do that. I couldn’t live with myself if something bad happened. So, do us both a favour and leave.”
Mick | Suffer
Warnings: N/A
“I can’t believe you let it get this bad.” You don’t mean to scold, despite the nature of your words, your tone is as mellow as you can muster whilst you trace your fingers along his body. Mick is pretty, in his own way. An abundance of burn scars already adorns a large expanse of his burly figure.
But there’s a disturbance. A slew of dark, protruding veins weave beneath his handsomely dappled skin. It had been hours since he'd taken the brunt of an alien flower bomb, and instead of complaining, instead of asking for help, he'd hauled up, feverish and alone. Ignoring anybody that came by to check on him until you'd picked the lock out of worry for your lover.
“Don’t make me ask for it.” He groans, harshly locking his hand around your wandering fingers before you get too mislaid in your exploration.
He’s never normally so impatient. He’d been cagey in the early days of your relationship, never so urgent. With time, he’d come to appreciate your lingering gazes and roving hands, but for the most part, he’s let you have your way. He'd never begrudged the chance to return the favour, his hefty fingers taking from you as much as you draw from him.
But tonight, he’s not himself; he’s holding onto you for dear life, rutting his hips upward, his cock throbbing against your bare sex, equally as desperate as its bearer to get inside of you. “Just hurry up and sit on my cock baby, or I’ll find another way to deal with the problem.”
“Charming as always, my love.” You roll your eyes, but you mean no ill intent. You’re more than happy to arch your back and sink down onto him. Admiring the scores of expressions on his face that he doesn’t normally bless you with. The grumble that evacuates his bitten lips is low and guttural, coming from deep inside his chest. His eyes roll back as the hint of respite your heated core offers him before he needs more.
Mark | Beg
Warnings: Overstim
Marks got quite the silver tongue. He likes to have the first and last word. But for once in his life he's completely inarticulate.
Words bubble to his lips, and burst upon impact, dripping from his lips in pathetic, nonsensical murmurs.
“Wh- hh- one- one mu-more?” The tips of his dark, dusky brown hair tickle your neck as much as his breath, and he pants into you. His skin, dewy, and red-hot sticks to yours as he sloppily rocks his hips, pumping into your already brimming, and sore entrance. “P-p-please?”
The begging is new too. Mark's never been shy about taking what he wants; it's a given in his line of work, but tonight he needs you, and that desperation has him weak. Has his hands shaking as he holds your body into the bed. Has his heart hammering at the thought of filling your pretty little hole with his cum again. And again. And again. It just won't stop. There's no buildup, and no relief, just constant, depraved, excruciating, pressure.
“As many as you need, Marco.” You might not be able to cash that cheque, already overwhelmed. Tender and twitching under his touch, but beneath all the salacious pleasure he evokes with every drag of his cock, you can see he's suffering. See the hunger is consuming him with every second he isn't releasing his painfully hard cock between your legs, so you'll try your best.
“Mmmm-more.” It’s non-committal, ominous, makes your stomach flutter and your walls clench at the thought of exactly how much more he's going to take, greedily fucking you, filling you. Bruising you with every slap of his skin, every clench of his fingers.
And under it all, the admiring little twinkle in his eye, the gratitude that's hidden beneath layers of animalistic frenzy make all worth it.
Evan | Borrow
Warnings: B&E, voyeurism
Heartbeat in your chest, you gingerly slot your key into your bedroom door. Some might call your security precautions excessive, but you’ve gotten up close and personal with some of Central City’s seediest criminals. You know you can never be too safe.
Case in point: you’re the only person with a key to the room, but somebody is in there. You can hear them, their uneven breathing, the creak of old wood calling to you like an SOS. Seriously, if they’re trying to be sneaky, they should learn how to move on lighter feet, and quit smoking or see or doctor or something, cause that sound is not natural.
Door unlocked, baseball bat at the ready, you swing the door open, storming in, ready for a fight, but the sight that greets you stops you in your tracks.
There, lazily spread across your bed is your boyfriend, Evan. His distinctive orange and green suit crumpled on the floor, his mirror gun beside his presumable point of entry; your mirror.
He’s stark naked, every fiery hair, every freckle, every muscle, every worryingly dark, and swollen vein on full display to you as he lies amid a pile of your dirty washing. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, you’d have expected him to notice you by now, but clearly he’s busy. Very busy, with his mouth tightly wrapped around the crotch of yesterday's underwear. Another pair caught in his fist as he drags it along his shaft, over and over again, every muscle in his body switching with each stroke.
“Fuck me.” You mutter under your breath. He’s a sight and a half, that’s for sure. “Evan?”
Even the sound of your voice doesn’t stir him from his trance. It takes your hand tapping at his rippling stomach to finally snap him out of it. But even with his eyes wide open, looking directly at you, there's still a glassiness to them.
Your cotton-muffled name falls from his lips in a pained whisper. It’s like he sees you; he wants you, but there’s a distance between you. Until you trace the red tufts of hair that draw the line from his belly button to his painfully red cock.
“Want a hand there?” The moment your fingertips trace his leaking crown, something snaps him back into the real world. With newfound clarity and zeal, he snaps upright, spitting your underwear to the side as he grabs at your shirt, drawing you on top of him.
Axel | Steal
Warnings: Attempted non-con, voyeurism, non-sexual electric shocks
Given Axel’s history with Ivy, you’d hoped he might have developed some kind of natural immunity to her toxins. That was too much to wish for, apparently.
As much became evident as you checked him over in the back of the getaway van.
One moment you’re monitoring his alarmingly high pulse, the next he’s gripping your wrists, staring up at you with wide eyes and blown-out pupils. He’s sweaty and sallow. You’re expecting him to complain, to ask you for drugs or water, but as always, Axel never ceases to surprise.
“You’re… so… hot.” The words sound painful and exhaustive. He concludes by letting his head loll back, clanging against the metal interior behind him.
Painful, exhaustive, and nonsensical. “Me? Axel, you’re burning up. How-”
“No. You’re… hot.” He reiterates, punctuating each word with a raspy breath. “I wanna put… my dick… in you… right now… sooooo... bad.”
Suddenly, you’re feeling hot under the collar yourself. The badly disguised laughter of Sam and Mark does nothing but aggravate the situation. “Is- Is it the toxin? Are you f-”
“It’s your body.” Axel is always animated, even when he’s not speaking. Even though his head hangs practically limp between his shoulders, his hands are still clumsily gesturing in the space between you, pointing at your ass and down to his crotch, then back again. “C’mon, I need this, I feel like my cocks gonna explode. Like I'm gonna die. You don't want me to die do you?”
For a moment, you wonder if he’s messing with you. It wouldn’t be the first trick you’d fallen for, and it undoubtedly wouldn’t be the last, but as you scour his body again, noting his raised hairs, dried lips, and tenting pants, you conclude that he’s totally and completely serious.
“Man, she did a number on you this time.” You whisper to yourself before resting your hand on his leather-clad shoulder, leaning in until you’re certain his looking back at your eyes and not your chest. “Can you hold on until we get back to base?”
You’re not expecting him to tackle you to the ground, thankfully, your head is saved from smashing against the metal sheet floor by Mark’s boot.
“Axel, stop! Axel, we’re not alone!”
“Yeah, and? Let give 'em a show.”
At a loss for words, you look up at your audience, and you don’t like what you see. As Axel peels your legs apart, lodging his clothed cock between them and rutting against your core like a man possessed, like a man who's never known the definition of inhibitions; frankly, that might not be far from the truth, Sam and Mark continue to titter between themselves at your expense.
“Don’t mind us.” Mark grins, lifting a brow suggestively.
“Yeah, have at it.” Sam finishes. It's hard to tell if they're betting that Axel won't go the distance, or if they're really happy to sit there and watch it through. The uncertainty makes you even more nervous. If Sam's involved, there's probably a bet on.
The burning pleasure of Axel's bulge grinding against your sweet spot, or his fingers carelessly squeezing and tracing your hips, your chest, your neck, the spots he knows you crave to be touched, is not enough to tempt. The thought of his cock inside of you, stretching you out while he shit talks in front of your teammates makes your mouth water, makes you ache with want. But the fantasy doesn't outweigh the reality, doesn't stifle your concerns about your social standings or, more importantly, Axel's health.
Axel begins to fumble with your zipper, his cybernetic hand delivering a shock to your body when you attempt to fight him on. Without knocking him out with the steel toes of your boot, there’s only one other option you can think of: “LENNN!!!!”
“For fucks sake.” In a bitter tone reserved solely for fed-up fathers, your captain starts to mutter from the passenger seat. “Don't you dare have sex in this van. I swear, if I have to come back there…”
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
Eowells is an interesting case because he's still Eobard Thawne; he's just also pretending to be Harrison Wells. That being said he's much less intense when pretending to be Dr.Wells than when you find out who he really is. He's softer when he rests his hands on yours and his words seem less deliberate. He loves spending hours in the lab talking to you. Eowells is more physically open with his affections, but will always shy away from pda, he's the big boss he can't have his partner leaving lipstick stains on his face all the time. A common scene for the two of you is cuddling or laying next to each other late at night bouncing random thoughts and ideas off each other.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
Let's be honest this man has killed for you before the two of you even actually meet, and he will kill for you again. It's almost a casual thing for him to go out and ruin/take the lives of people who have upset/hurt/flirted with you. Eobard is not afraid of getting his hands dirty even while pretending to be Harrison, but he has to be extremely more careful during this time because he can't blow his cover. He's still going to "take care" of people for you but it's much more planned and underhanded than if he wasn't parading as someone else.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
Eobard is inherently cruel. Even when pretending to be Dr.Wells he can be stinging in remarks and quickly cruel in a very calculated way. Without meaning to be Eowells can be very mocking. It's so natural for him to condescend and insult so sometimes when you're being "stubborn" he'd mock or berate you without even thinking about it. He isn't apologetic about those times unless he says something he truly doesn't mean which doesn't happen often, but when it does he can become much softer rather than saying sorry in a more natural way.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
Eowells does plenty of things you aren't going to like, but when it comes to it the worst thing is probably forcing you to lie with him. If this man lets you out after you find out who he really is or abducts you then you're going to be lying to all your friends and family about what you're doing and what your life really is. Aside from that, Eowells will openly get rid of your friends, ruin your career or education, and make you dress and act a certain way in public.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
Eowells is much more guarded when parading as Harrison Wells than he is if you were to meet him as himself. Of course Eobard isn't open inherently, but you're his partner, the person who is supposed to be his better half, so he certainly tries. In certain moments hidden far behind thick walls you can witness a side of him no one has ever seen. Sometimes Eowells grants you moments of clarity where you see how truly broken, deranged, and obsessive he truly is. He'll let you see him, but don't bring it up afterwards because it might ruin his comfortably with opening up to you if you acknowledge it happened.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
Eowells finds your fighting incredibly inconvenient. He has so much on his plate, trying to create the particle accelerator or trying to create the Flash that having you fight with him every time he comes home is a bit exhausting. It's, honestly, more like a fly in his ear than anything else. He is going to get home and you are going to come with him whether you like it or not.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
Like I said above, Eowells has quite a bit on his plate, seeing you trying to leave him does nothing but annoy him. At least most of the time. If he's had a particularly good day and you pulled off a particularly clever trick he might find it a bit entertaining. Life is a game to him in general, the battle between him and Barry is akin to a game, but your love, his obsession with you, that isn't a game.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
The worst experience may be the earth shattering situation that is finding out your boyfriend is actually a futuristic speedster/serial killer. That being said, if you stumble a little too much your worst experience may end up being seeing him maim or murder someone you truly care about.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
Eowells' biggest plan is taking you to the future with him. His main goal currently is to go home and the only real layout he has is that you get to come back with him. Whether you settle down together or something else he doesn't know yet. I don't really see Eobard wanting children or anything like that, but I definitely see him wanting to get married, and you know that ceremony is going to be lavish.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
Eobard is a jealous man, but he is still pretending to be Dr.Wells and Harrison is a calm, cool-minded man. Eowells pretends perfectly that someone flirting or staring too long doesn't bother him, but it bothers him deeply. He has this feeling of possession over you and seeing someone challenge that will either upset him deeply or amuse him. If he finds it amusing then he'll up his game, flirting more and laying you down nicely that night. If he gets upset by it then the person will soon end up a missing person or the victim of an unsolvable murder, and then he'll come home and hold onto you tightly as you sleep.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
Eowells is a very attentive partner. He sees and knows everything about you which shows in every calculated action. That being said he can be emotionally charged and intense. One thing is for sure he keeps you on your toes with what you can expect from him on a given day. Sometimes he's sweet and doting, wrapping an arm around you and reading a book aloud while playing with your hair. Sometimes you're both laughing in the kitchen as you try your best not to burn the food on the stove as you playfully berate each other. Sometimes you sit with his head in your lap as he stresses about how much he has to deal with in one day. Sometimes he's screaming and throwing objects to the floor as his heart and eyes fill with hate and you sit there waiting for him to stop. Sometimes he sits calmly as you break down from the stress and fear and he kisses your head while telling you it will all be okay. Sometimes he comes home covered in blood.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
When trying to start a relationship with you every action is deliberate. Every word and motion is perfectly curated to make you fall in love with him. Eobard knew the second you met Harrison Wells what he wanted you to be to him. He may have even known before you ever even met the mask. His words are smooth and his eyes are often mischievous. He'll lean in more and whisper personal jokes or jabs at other peoples expense. Anything to entice you. He's also not above using Dr.Well's wealth to draw you in or impress you.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
He's incredibly different in front of others than he is you, or at least he is if you've learned his secret. If you don't know he's actually Eobard Thawne then behind closed doors the only difference you'll get is how much more romantic he can be when the two of you are alone. If you do know who he is then when the two of you are alone he's more honest in his personality. You'll see more of that predator come out and he's more talkative now, telling you his honest thoughts and feelings or just telling you the many stories he knows and experiences he's had. The difference is almost night and day between the real Eobard and the Dr.Wells facade.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
Most of the time Eowells would just lock you away for a while. Not allowing you the reprieve of seeing anyone other than him if you can't behave in public. If you were to push your luck too much Eobard may drag a friend or family member out of their home or bed just to tear the person apart in front of you. There is a chance that if you were to beg him to do something else to punish you some other way you deem appropriate he might relent, doing whatever you decide simply to show you how kind he's truly being to you.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
Your whole life is a right he's willing to take away. Your right to work, to learn, to drive, or talk to people, your right to leave the house, or most importantly your right to live in your own time period or your right to live a life not dictated by him. Harrison Wells is a powerful man it wouldn't take much to destroy your life and he is more than willing to do that to ensure you have nothing but him at the end of the day.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
Eowells is incredibly patient. Even the mask he wears is known as a patient man. That being said he can also be impatient. Some days he may feel more patient than others. Those days he can handle the yelling and fighting or the lack of building in your relationship. Some days he doesn't feel as generous. On those days he's more likely to hold you down just so he can be close to you or dial up the charm just to progress your relationship. He can wait forever, but maybe don't make him feel like it's going to be.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
When it comes to you leaving/escaping it doesn't matter what version of Eobard it is he is going to hunt you down. There is no point in time, no place on any earth where you are safe from him finding you. Even death can't stop him. Yes, if you were to die he'd be incredibly angry, possibly the angriest he'll ever be, but that doesn't mean you're getting away. He will manipulate time and space just to bring you back or to save you from it ever happening. Not even death can save you from his love.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
Absolutely not. There is nothing that would ever make him give you up. This goes for any version of Eobard. He wouldn't feel guilty for kidnapping you or uprooting your life. To him you always belonged to him and all of this was inevitable. He may feel pity for you when/if you break down in front of him. He understands it's screwed up, he just simply doesn't care.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
It was always something lingering deep inside Eobard. His version of romance has always been twisted because he's simply put a psychopath. The years of waiting and being trapped in a time period he sees as primitive definitely doesn't help. The more he's away from home the more unstable he seems to feel.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
He isn't one to really empathize with people. He sees most of your fighting against him as an inconvenience. That doesn't mean he feels nothing when you scream or cry. He feels something. It's just incredibly hard for him to understand what that feeling is, it's pity. He may lay on some extra kind interactions or words to make you feel better. Overall he doesn't express much when you get upset,but he does feel something even if he can't figure out how to comfort you.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
Most of what he does lines up with your typical yandere. The biggest difference is how deep his obsessions lie. When Eobard becomes obsessed with something it consumes him. His whole life revolves around the Flash and now also you. His obsessions are everything he is, you are entwined with his soul at this point.
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
Eowells is deep into his facade. He has a role he has to play in order to get home. He has things he has to do. The biggest exploit you'll get is all the time you have where he's busy playing Harrison Wells. You can easily use this time to try to get away. The biggest problem you'll find is that he isn't afraid to use his stored up speed to drag you back. You'll have to move quickly, but even if you do, he's faster.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
Like many other yanderes he isn't afraid to tie you up, drug you, or manhandle you. He may break something a little too close to you or grab your wrist a little too tightly, but I don't see Eowells out right harming you. Even if you try to push him he's always going to choose an object or even someone else to take that anger out on.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
Once Eobard gets a real hold on you as a person his obsession with you begins to rival his obsession with the Flash. You slowly become a lifeline. His world is stabilized by you. He would never admit it to you, but he secretly reveres you. Sometimes you can almost see it in his eyes as he stares or feel it in the way his hands shake as he holds you. There isn't anything this man wouldn't do to make sure you belong to him. Everything you are he wants, everything you are he loves. It doesn't matter what has to happen as long as you end up in his arms.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
I think Eowells would be able to pretend all the way up until Team Flash unmasks him. He would be able to wait until it was time to go home. Once he realizes it was time to go, he's prepared to do quite a bit to ensure you come with him. Another possible situation would be if you chose someone over him or caught him in the act, both situations result in you being locked up in his lavish house.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
Eowells would do it in subtle ways. He'd break you in a way that you wouldn't even notice you were. He does it by making you lie so often or puppeteering your actions. You're still you by the end of it all it's just something is inherently not the same as you used to be. Something that you can't tell is missing or broken, but there's something wrong.
Sometimes a minute can feel like an hour, and other times, a whole day can pass in a blink of an eye.
Right now, it feels like Eobard’s been between your thighs for hours. Based on the cheap alarm clock beside you, you know it’s only been twenty minutes, the red numbers flashing 2:10 am. But with how many orgasms he’s managed to drag out of you, it might as well have been twenty years.
A vibrating tongue presses against your clit, again. Your fingers dig into the mess of strawberry blonde hair as Eobard gazes up at you, eyes glazed over as his lips seal around your pussy, greedily sucking the meagre amount of slick you’ve managed to produce. He’s basically drunk you dry at this point, your legs went numb two orgasms ago, and he’s still not satisfied. Eobard’s fingers press into your thighs as you try to close your legs around his head, either to keep him there or push him away, you aren’t too sure. He growls into your sex, shoving his face deeper into your cunt as his tongue dives into your entrance, circling your hole. You let out a whine, throat raw from the near-constant moaning. Distantly, you recall having neighbours and thin walls, but as Eobard plunges two fingers into your pussy, that thought is thrown aside.
Eobard practically scoops your slick from your insides, his breath stuttering as he fills his mouth with the taste of you. His nose bumps against your clit as he focuses on drinking from you, and the reprieve from his sinful tongue is more than welcome. You pant, staring up at the ceiling as the room spins around you. The only noises is your own breath and Eobard’s gluttonous moans and slurps. Your eyes flick towards the clock. 2:11 am.
“Eooo~” Your voice sounds hoarse, weak. Eobard hears you anyway, humming into your sore sex, not pausing for a moment, “I can’t feel my legs… Are you nearly done?” Eobard’s eyebrows furrow, and his fingers squeeze your thigh with an almost bruising pressure.
“I told you, sweetheart,” Sarcasm drips from his voice, intermingled with a heavy tone of lust which he can’t quite hide, “I’m not leaving until I’ve had my fill, and your pussy is the finest delicacy this century has to offer.” He says it like it's obvious, eyelids fluttering as he rolls his eyes at your stupidity.
You open your mouth to argue, but only a moan comes out as Eobard presses his vibrating tongue to your oversensitive clit, holding it there as your body trembles. The orgasm which Eobard manages to pull from your worn-out cunt is less than satisfying, just a low peak of pleasure which sends an ache through your muscles. Your mind turns to mush as he goes back to drinking your cum, moaning into you whorishly as he eyes glaze over again. Through blurry eyes, you look at the clock once more. It’s 2:12 am.
Hi! I hope you’re having a great day! 🌟 I absolutely love your blog and your writing—it’s always so creative and immersive. I was wondering if you could write a Reverse Flash (Eobard Thawne) imagine for me? Here’s my idea: - [ do you know the fanfic that you did about him and normal reader? Well, I thought you could write about the wedding reception or what when on during the wedding] No pressure, of course—I just think your writing style would bring this idea to life in the best way! Thank you so much for considering my request, and keep up the amazing work! 💖
Eobard Thawne x male reader
Headcanons
I’ve been sending out job applications, how’s everyone else doing? I actually know like, nothing about weddings. The one wedding ive been through was thrown together in like three weeks.
you can find the fic mentioned here
The wedding could go multiple ways. It could be a huge wedding that costs more money than you could ever imagine. Or it could be something small and personal.
I think it makes more sense if it was a smaller wedding. Because sure, Eobard could show off, but he also has like no one to invite from his side, and he knows you prefer things being down to earth and calm.
The only person really invited on his side is Barry and that’s because you invited him, claiming that being rivals for so long pretty much made them family.
Your family has always loved Eobard, even if he has his moments where his villainy shines through. They’re all as normal as you, and could care less about his evil deeds. Eobard helps them repair stuff around their houses, and chased off your cousin Linda’s evil abusive ex. That makes him good in their books.
I think Eobard has little idea how to really plan a wedding, especially with someone he loves as much as you. Good thing he’s got you, and your one cousin who’s a wedding planner who’s helping you guys’ plan as a wedding gift.
Your family is pretty damn big, and you got people in all fields. Theres your uncle Bill whos got a major catering business, and your younger cousin who has a band willing to play. Your aunt Jenna gets the flowers for cheap, and your uncle Michael and his husband Diego run a security company.
I can even see Eobard being close to uncomfortable with just how open and supportive your super normal family is. Your nieces and nephews love Eobard for many reasons, from his red hair to him teaching them self-defense.
If it wasn’t for you, Eobard would become a major bridezilla, or should I say groomzilla? He wants it to be perfect, from location, time, season of the year, everything. It needs to be just as you guys planned. You succeed in pulling him in before he starts spiraling most days.
I can imagine Eobard would want to wear a yellow suit, but you and your groomsmen and bridesmaids end up talking him out of it. Instead, he wears a black suit with a yellow, and you wear a white suit with a red tie.
You spend quite a lot of time talking him out of stress or anger when things don’t go right, or when he’s starting to get overwhelmed. Theres multiple times you have to talk him out of time travel to get what he thinks is best.
The wedding goes off with little issue. There is a moment where Eobard wants to be mad about Barry showing up. But at this point it’s more just because he’s so used to being evil when he sees Barry. It’s like a trained reaction.
Barry brings a gift of course, off the registry since he doesn’t really know you too well.
Your family assume that Barry is related to Eobard in some way since they have a “similar energy” around them. Barry gets along well with your family, and fits into the wedding guests easily.
Eobard will never admit it, even if your family get it on video, that he started crying when you guys were saying your vows. His vows aren’t long, but are meaningful to the two of you, and it’s obvious he’s trying his best to express those feelings to you verbally.
The rings you guys wear are probably made out of some material Eobard got his hands on. something that can’t be broken by him using his powers or in battle, and something that cant be copied by others since he’s possessive.
There is of course a large party afterwards, with lots of hugs and congratulations from everyone in attendance.
As your family are all over you, laughing and celebrating, Eobard pulls himself to the side for a breather. He loves you so much, but it can be so overwhelming sometimes to feel so normal and accepted, loved even.
Barry would saddle up beside him with a drink in each hand, so the two of them end up standing side by side as people dance, drink and eat.
Barry would express how happy he is for Eobard, that he found someone who matters so much to him. That Eobard looks so much happier and healthier than the last times he saw him. Eobard would grumble but flush, mumbling about how he’s obviously better because he has you.
In the end you guys celebrate to your heart’s content, and when the party is over you guys don’t go to a hotel. Instead, Eobard runs you guys’ home so you can cuddle in bed and just be together.
Theres not much reason to hold a honeymoon in the way most others do. If you guys want to go to another country, Eobard will just run you there. Instead, you take as long time off work as you can, so you guys can just be together and do whatever you want.
