A/n: the Intro was rushed because I got too excited to write the smut. Not proofread 🌺
Tw: noncon turns to dubcon, androgynous breeding kink, little dirty talk, he's a horny bastard. Mommy kink but it can be applied to any gender. Slapping body parts, he has a minor lactation kink. Mdni please!
★you met the little furball while you were out on a evening walk. It was the middle of winter and being cooped up inside the house all day was starting to get a little claustrophobic
★you didn't notice him at first since he blended in with the snow. Stopping mid-walk when you heard a weak little whine coming from behind you. Slowly turning around, you saw a pair of red eyes staring at you from beneath the snow
★approaching them slowly, you could finally see him more clearly. Milky white skin turning a light blue due to hypothermia. He didn't have the strength to run when you picked him up. Patting his head, you headed back home.
★giving him a warm bath and setting him next to the fireplace, you slowly nursed him back to health. He was very reluctant at first, but your touch was too comforting to pull away from. He hasn't felt this safe since he was just a baby bun! He stayed with you nearly the entire winter
★midway he starts to get himself familiar with your home, peeking under furniture and into rooms, he seemed to understand you when you'd ask him questions in English
"what's your name little fella?"
"cotton.."
★eventually you had to let him go back into the wild, just a month before spring arrived. He was reluctant but with enough convincing he finally left. Looking back at you from the forest edge, watching you wave goodbye with that beautiful smile he loves
❣️cotton who goes into heat early because he can't stop thinking of you. Burrying himself in his burrow, humping the air. Nothing is as soft as you and your bed. Nothing can make him feel as safe as your touch does
❣️he shoos any females who wish to mate away. Claiming he already has a mate. Oh he wished you'd come into the forest looking for him, to take care of him again as he fills your tight little hole up with his cum
❣️he spends most of his time shamelessly masturbating to the thought of you. His entire heat cycle has been on loop since he left, so finally gathering the balls he heads back to your cottage. Watching you from a distance, lazily stroking his already sensitive cock.
★just minding your business, you don't notice the certain bunny hybrid approaching slowly. You don't have much time to react before a familiar mop of white hair tackles you to the ground. Desperately humping your clothed sex as he whines and grunts.
"cotton!? What the hell are you doing!?"
"hah- nhg need.. mate.. pretty mate.. need to breed! Ohh!"
★you tried pushing him off, but when did he get so strong!? Pining your arms down and ripping your clothes off, wasting no time in lapping at your genitals. Eating you out like a starved man, sucking and nipping your inner thighs until he's sure you're nice and lubed up
★he carefully pressed the tip in, but he doesn't last long as he slowly sinks deeper into your gummy walls. Letting go of your arms and roughly grabbing your hips, which were sure to bruise later, brutally fucking your brains out. Slapping your chest and privates as he grinds his cock deeper
★he keeps going even after he's ripped multiple orgasms out of you. The pleasure slowly chipping off your resistance. Leaving you a blubbering moaning mess under the bunny. A pool of his cum under where your sexes kept meeting.
★it doesn't matter what gender you are, he's determined to breed you until you're swelling with his children. He couldn't wait to suck and bite your chest once it was swollen with milk!
"gonna be so pretty- mph! So pretty, all swollen 'n fat with my babies.. gonna be a good mate, right? G-gonna give me lots of 'em right? Oh ohhh! Cumming again! 'Yer squeezing all my cum out! Mommy!!"
★let's just say that you should get use to your new roommate husband, because now there's no way of getting rid of him. Ever.
having sex with your sweet & kind boyfriend!eunseok for the first time and eventually it becomes too much; little do you know he's not all that sweet .. it's just an act . he's wayyyy too rough on you so you tell him to stop and be more gentle but he doesn't seem to listen to you ..... would tell you to shut up and deal with it ,,, would just use you and be so unapologetic about it ;(( he wouldn't care if you pass out ,, you asked for it after all ... if you love him , you'll let him have you however he wants , right ?
TW: dubcon/noncon,slapping,perv!eunseok
eunseok knew you were the type of girl who wanted flowers on the first date,your chair being pulled back when you get to the table at the restaurant,a gentle kiss on the cheek after he brings you home. he knew you were the take it slow type,so he did whatever he could to win you over. even if it meant wearing a mask and acting like a completely different person.
if he was being honest,he wanted to fuck you the moment he saw you at the bar. but then you smiled sweetly at him,your face turned red from embarrassment and he sighed internally when he realized he’ll have to work for it. so he charmed you to the best of his ability. he kind of liked it,having to play a gentleman who only has your best interest. it makes him even more excited to get to the finish line. he had to hold himself back from lowering his hand on your ass when he guided you by your lower back in crowded places. he has to hold himself back from sinking his teeth in your lips whenever you give him an innocent peck.
he’s a total pervert around you and you don’t even notice. you don’t notice the way his eyes go over your body,the way he takes in a deep breath when you sit on his lap. you’re a complete airhead around him,probably just thinking how lucky you are to have a sweet guy like eunseok.
when you two finally get to have sex his sweet loving boyfriend act disappears. his hands are too rough on your skin. he’s pulling you,pinching you,tugging you without a care in the world. your little mewls just fuel him even more. he’s got you on your knees,your mouth around him as he’s pushing you down on his cock,ignoring the choking sounds coming out of you and your hands hitting his thighs. his hand is tight in your hair,gripping your scalp,making your head hurt. “just like that” he whispers,head thrown back as he feels your throat convulsing around him. he pulls you off by yanking your hair and you look up at him through wet lashes,your lipstick smudged all over your face.
he bites his lip at the sight before his hand comes down to strike you across the face. your face turns sideways from the impact,but he holds you still with a tight grip in your hair. he hears you yelp from the impact and his cock twitches. gosh,he loves how helpless you look under him,just taking anything he gives you. he hits you again and you look at up at him like a lost puppy,your face red from his rough hands. he guides you back to his cock,thrusting in your mouth as you gag around him. when he pulls you off again to slap you,he hears you whine,”eunseok…it hurts”. your strained voice makes him clouded with lust.
he pulls you up by your hair,turning you around and pushing you to the couch. “eunseok! wait” you try to reason,it’s no use. your intricate stockings are ripped,the crack burning your skin. eunseok pulls your panties to the side and lines himself up with your entrance. you start squirming but to no avail. his hand goes behind your neck with force,pushing your face down in the cushion. his tip breaches your entrance and he has a hard time entering you,but he doesn’t give up. “-fuck- so tight” he breathes out as he feels your walls clenching around him,”you’re practically pushing me out”.
he hears you whine,your voice is muffled as he pushes your head down further into the cushions. then he starts pounding into you,with no mercy. you kick and scream as much as you can,trying to push him away with your hands. but he just holds you in place,his hips brutally thrusting into you,his eyes are shut tight from the tightness of your walls around his cock as he groans loudly. “baby” his silky voice calls out,”you love me. right?” he inquires. you whine out something inaudible and he takes it as a yes,his hands holding your hips in a deathly grip,“then fucking act like it”.
you were mine - shinazugawa sanemi x female reader
honorable mention: rengoku kyojurou x female reader
trying to post this quick b4 my laptop dies... thanks for some of the requests that have come through, and hopefully you enjoy this fic based on this ask by the wondrous 💍 anon!
for context, you have tended to demon slayers at your family's wisteria sanctuary your whole life! but suddenly you're married off to rengoku kyojurou, but what he doesn't know is... you're already kinda taken?
word count: 2500ish
-content warning: noncon (and mentions of past noncon), abuse (slapping), mentions of blood, fellatio, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, era typical sexism/misogyny
At first, you were afraid.
You didn’t want to be here, but you didn’t want to go back home, either. It’s not like you had much of a choice anyway; this was your home now, and it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable. You didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn to fetch water from the well, bring it back inside to boil and brew a pot of tea, which you would serve to the many demon slayers who passed through your family’s wisteria sanctuary. There was no more doing their laundry, or patching their wounds, or much of anything anymore. At least you didn’t have to withstand the predatory looks, or the wandering hands, or him—
Your head shakes at the thought. No, you don’t have to think about that anymore. You have Kyojurou now, your husband. He saved you, even though you were just a lowly servant, he chose you. You were special enough for him to whisk you away from that place and marry you. Even though it all happened so fast, you were glad that you didn’t have to do those things anymore. You only answered to one man now: your husband.
The knock at the door drags you out of your thoughts and back to your reality. You’re seated at the table, a cup of tea in front of you, which has long gone cold. You’ve been in your head a lot lately, and usually Kyojurou is there to distract you, but he was sent on a mission. You aren’t sure how you feel about him being gone; part of you is relieved, another part bored, and a surprisingly large part of you missed him.
Now you flinch when the knocking grows louder, shaking the room. “Coming!” You squeak, standing, pushing in your chair, going to open the door. You reckon it must be Kyojurou’s father, who hasn’t spoken to you much since your arrival at the estate; Kyojurou does keep you tucked away in the opposite wing of the home, far away from his father’s side. You don’t quite understand, but you appreciate it; you’re not sure if you could be around other people, especially men, after—
The door flies open as soon as you unlatch the lock, almost hitting you when it slams against the wall. You jump back, instinctively covering your face, before you take a look. You're met with a familiar face and a more familiar feeling of fear.
“So…” Sanemi leans against the door frame. “Are you going to invite me in?”
You stupidly nod your head, stumbling out of his way when he pushes past you. You shut the door behind him as quietly as possible. When you turn back to him, Sanemi is seated at the table, leaning back in his chair with legs spread wide, taking up as much space as possible. He looks too big for the room.
“Are you going to stand there or will you offer me some tea?” He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, instead inspecting his nails before beginning to chew on one. With your world spinning, all you can let out is a dumbfounded “oh!” and go to the stove to grab the teapot and a cup. Everything shakes as you place it on the table in front of him, and when you go to pour, you can hear the porcelain clinking as you tremble; most of the tea does not make it into the cup, instead dripping on the table.
“Have you forgotten your training?” Sanemi barks a laugh. “Only been away a couple months, and you can’t even pour a cup of tea anymore.”
Has it been months? You think, putting the teapot down and shuffling into your seat. It felt both like years and only hours.
“Thanks for the wedding invite, by the way.” He scoffs, hand dwarfing the teacup as he slurps it.
You don’t know why you try to explain it to him. “It was a small wedding, Shinazugawa-sama. It was only my family and his. I didn’t- I didn’t have a say… and I didn’t think you would like to attend—”
“Right.” Sanemi snickers, leaning back in his chair, throwing a casual glance around the room. “Well, I’ll admit, I was surprised when your folks told me they married you off, considering they knew about us.”
Your eyes go glassy as your fear morphs into dread. You feel a bit stupid that you actually believed you were safe here in the first place. And you’re torn apart because you were so relieved to not have to deal with Kyojurou’s overwhelming presence, but now you wished nothing more for him to be here, to save you again from your fate.
“I doubt they told Kyojurou.” Sanemi sighs, standing up from his chair. “I mean, if he knew, he probably wouldn’t have married you, right?”
You shake your head no, agreeing with him.
Your body trembles as he circles over to you. You can no longer stop the tears spilling from your eyes, but you keep your mouth shut just like before.
“I mean, I get it, I’m sure he paid a great bride price for you.” His hand fell heavy on your shoulder, and you internally scream. ”I just think I should have been informed about this, since, you know, you were mine first.”
Your teeth clatter in your mouth as the second hand grabs your other shoulder.
“Imagine how disappointed I was when I came to see you, and you weren’t there.” He leans down to fake a pout in your ear before yelling “And now you’re a wife! To Kyojurou of all people!”
His fingers dig into your flesh, nearly painful.
“But don’t worry, I don’t mind sharing. I’ll just have to drop by when I’m in the area so you don’t forget who you really belong to.”
His hands easily come into your hair to pull you out of your seat. He brings you into his chest, his lips finding your ear. “You’re so pretty and small,” he coos at you, adjusting his grasp on your scalp as his eyes rake down your body. “I understand why Kyojurou married you.”
Your frown deepens. You don’t like him talking about Kyojurou like that.
“It’s exactly why I wanted you in the first place…” Your body rigidly follows his movement as he brings you to your knees, yanking your head back, forcing you to stare up at him.“You were just too pretty and pliant, so easy to overpower.”
You grimace as he drags your face against the bulge in his pants. You cry pitifully, grasping onto his thighs for balance, pushing at him gently. He pulls you away just enough to free himself from his clothes, quickly brushing it against your lips. When you try to face away from him, he tugs you right back in by the hair; your jaw opens as you gasp in pain, which he takes as an opportunity to force himself in.
“You remember how to do this, don’t you?” He snarls, using his grip on your hair as leverage to fuck down your throat. “Just take it.”
You’re clutching onto his thighs for dear life now as he hammers into your mouth. Tears gush from your eyes as you endlessly gag and choke for air. You can’t think of much when you’re trying to sneak a breath between thrusts.
“Does your Kyojurou fuck your face like this?” Sanemi ponders with a wicked grin. “I don’t think so.”
You’d have to agree; Kyojurou wasn’t like Sanemi at all. Yet, both had their ways of making you feel gross inside. Maybe Kyojurou wasn’t rough like this with you, but you couldn’t hide from his intense stare, his overbearing presence, and possessive–no, obsessive nature. God, if he knew what was happening, what had happened, he’d probably kill…
You’re not sure if it would be Sanemi or you.
Suddenly, you’re let go and pulled off Sanemi’s cock. You fall onto the floor, drooling and gasping for air. Yet, your relief is short-lived before you’re grabbed by the collar and forced back on your feet. You can barely see his face through your bleary eyes as he tears your top away. In a panic, you push him away, stumbling into the table; the ceramic tea set clinking. Acting out of pure instinct, you reach for the teapot to swing at his head.
He catches your wrist before you can even get close. You forget that these men have been specially chosen for their reflexes, their intuition.
“Are you really trying to fight me?” He laughs, tightening his grip on your wrist. Your hand involuntarily lets go of the teapot, only to hear the ceramic shatter against the floor. “Does your husband not beat you?”
All it takes is one backhand across the face for you to stop in your tracks.
You trip back into the table, hand immediately coming to nurse your cheek as it thrums with pain. You can taste blood in your mouth, and your head hurts. There’s a stinging pain in your eye from where he clipped you, and you can’t see very well. One second you’re on your feet, and the next you’re thrown over the surface of the table. You feel a rush of cool air as your skirt is flipped up and he crowds behind you.
“Are you going to be good for me now?” He tuts, casually pulling quiet sobs from your mouth as his hands do the same to your underwear. You can only cringe when his hands come to spread you, your breath hitching at the feeling, humiliated and exposed. Two blunt fingers breach you, making you whimper.
“You’re still so tight,” he comments. “Does your husband even fuck you?”
Flashes of gold, orange, and red invade your memory, overwhelming your body and mind. Your eyes screw shut, so engulfed in thoughts, you don’t notice his fingers leave you, not before something else prods at you. Your body lurches, but he holds you still with one hand on your hip, the other snaking under you to clasp against your mouth to silence your scream as he sheathes himself inside of you.
With his weight bearing on top of you, your back flush to his chest, his groans vibrate straight into your ear as he tears you apart. You feel completely helpless; he’s so big on top of you, suffocating your entire frame while he forces himself all the way inside.
“See, this isn’t so bad, is it?” He whispers hotly in your ear. “Just like old times.”
You try to pull away as your mind is attacked by memories of the “old times.” You remember the way your stomach would twist when you saw him walking up the steps to the sanctuary, the way your hands shook when you poured him his tea, much to your family’s dismay. You had begged them to help you, to at least not force you to be around him when he came, but they did nothing. Even after he left you in a dark room with blood dripping down your thighs and bites and bruises and marks all over you, they stayed silent.
No wonder they were so eager to give you to Kyojurou. If you had stuck around, you would only bring them more trouble. It didn’t hurt that Kyojurou refused a dowry, and offered to pay them instead. But if Kyojurou knew about this… would he still want you? Would he kill you? Would he return you back to your family? No, you couldn’t go back there, you would- you would—
Sanemi brings you back to reality when he begins to move. With each thrust he punches a whine from your throat, barely muffled by the hand clamped down on your mouth. You hate the way your clothes sound rustling against the table, accompanying the sound of his hips driving into yours.
For being such a big talker, Sanemi is surprisingly quiet while he’s fucking you. All you can hear from him are sharp breaths and breathless curses. So there’s nothing to distract you from the way his thrusts slick up, the sound of your hips coming together becoming stickier. You don’t know why you do that, but think about what Sanemi said earlier about being pliant; it’s as if you were bred—groomed to do this.
To obey.
You can tell he’s close to done, based on how crazed his strokes are becoming and the way he’s starting to ramble. “Sh- shit, you feel so good. You have the best fucking cunt in the country. You always make me finish so fast…”
He lets go of your mouth, peeling himself off of your back to seize your hips with both hands. His harsh thrusts punch tearful gasps from your throat, while your fingers uselessly brush against the table; your sock-clad feet kick beneath it, but your toes curl.
“Fuck, that’s it.” He gasps. “I’m gonna cum inside you.”
“W- w- wait,” your voice wobbles. “Shinazugawa-sama, please, you can’t…”
Your hands fly back to push at his hips, but it does nothing to deter him, much like your words.
“I’ve never felt you tense up like that.” He laughs, breathless. “I should’ve bred you sooner. Then goddamn meatheads like Kyojurou would know that you’ve been claimed already.”
You know what it feels like, thanks to Kyojurou, but Sanemi’s orgasm ravages you. He fucks him and yourself into overstimulation, sewing his seed deep by fucking it back into you, and maybe even cumming again. You can’t remember much, or really tell how long it’s been by the time you snap back into it. But you can definitely feel his cum burning hot inside of you, barely dripping out.
Your skirt is haphazardly pulled down over trembling knees, and your chest is barely covered by the shredded fabric of your top. You’re seated back at the table again, shards of the teapot sprinkled on the floor like breadcrumbs. A sob escapes your mouth, but you quickly bring your hand up to silence yourself.
“Where’d they send your golden boy, anyway?” Sanemi asks, casually tucking himself back into his pants before heading for the door. You don’t know why you expected him to stay or to steal you away, but like the wind, he could never be tied down; just like you couldn’t stop him from drifting back into your life.
Your head lolls to look at him, his stoic face. You feel how raw your face is from the tears and the spit smeared on it. Your lips tremble, puffy and swollen. When you blink, it feels like forever.
“Train…” You croak, throat bruised and tongue tasting like copper. “They sent him on a train.”
giving dex permission to take his anger out on you—
content <𝟑 .ᐟ f!reader, pain play / kink, obsession, casual dominance, impact play -> consensual face slapping, crying, mention of manipulation, use of sir / sir kink.
he’s hesitant. hurting you has never been his prerogative … even when his obsession with you was at its scariest. if anything, he’s only ever wanted to shelter you from all of the pain and terrible nonsense that the world has to offer. sure, he can fully understand why you would want such a thing. he’s observant, he can see the little gleam in your eyes when he’s extra rough on you. but you seem almost alarmingly into the idea of him slapping you around and using you as a stress toy just because he can. it’s making you restless.
clearly you’ve learned to feel out his moods, you’ve discovered when the perfect times to talk back and huff and whine are. a part of him wants to praise you for being such a clever girl, albeit manipulative. he isn’t bothered by your pitiful attempts at getting him to snap, he can settle you down with a single stern look sometimes. at the end of the day, he has the upper hand. you’re the one waiting for him to give in with that same semipermanent pout on your face.
“little fuckin’ masochist,” he grumbles to himself when you’re done clinging to his arm and you’re out of earshot for the moment, huffing on a laugh that he can’t seem to hold back.
of course it happens when you least expect it. weeks later when it’s off of your mind completely— on a day where benjamin isn’t able to scratch that itch, a day where his fingers twitched to do something else even after bruising his knuckles under his gloves.
the sound of him undoing the locks on the front door forces your ears to perk up. his bulky boots meet the floor with each and every heavy step, your breath catches at that before he even grabs you up. a firm hand settles on your jaw as he ignores the whimper that falls from your lips. you’re shocked but you’re not scared, and that’s exactly how he wants you when his hand comes down on your sweet face.
experimentally at first.
your eyes gloss over with both tears and excitement as the pain blossoms over your soft skin.
“are you gonna cry? isn’t this what you wanted?” dex taunts, his calloused fingers colliding with the plush expanse of your cheek once more after the initial slap. and then again, before you have the chance to respond or hiccup out a little sound. your face is sore as he squishes your cheeks in his grip, making your lips jut out pathetically while he speaks to you— low and raspy, “you’ve been begging me to hurt you for months, sweetheart. save the sniffles for later ‘n thank me.”
you nod faithfully, biting back a dazed smile as you mumble a sugared “thank you, sir” that forces dex’s heart to squeeze in his chest.
omg yessss thats the one tysmmmm. and no i don't mind if you make him a switch really... whtvs comfrtble with you. kinda did smthn to me with the slap and his reaction to it 🙈🙈🙈hence why i said i haven't really read anythn like that and i liked it. so yeah 🌚
ehehe i’m glad u liked it!! i really appreciate the feedback!<333 i tried to do a slight continuation of that post but it got away from me and didn’t include slapping… so i ended up writing this instead idk🤕
18+ ♡ rough, toxic smut but it’s all consensual, subby!jake, mean!reader, toxic relationship, manipulation (from jake), slapping/impact play (jake likes getting hit), degradation, pinv, teensy bit of breastplay but not really, handjob, thigh riding but not really, idk what i’m doing. ⚠︎ disclaimer: there is never an excuse to hit your partner, this is just fictional fantasy. i do not condone physical abuse.
-
i feel like this jake would intentionally do things to piss you off and get a reaction out of you. it’s toxic, but he does it with the intention of getting you riled up enough to lay hands on him. he spends all day gaming and ignores your text to preheat the oven before you get home from work… or worse, writes back ‘don’t worry, babe, i got it’ but still doesn’t do it. he’s an incompetent brat and he gets off on you putting him in his place because of it.
the easiest way for him to get what he wants from you is to start an argument when you’re calmly trying to share your feelings. he knows your fuse is short and if you’re already upset, it won’t take much to push you over the edge. you’re trying to explain how you feel when he makes no attempt to help with household chores and expects you to clean up after him… so he starts mouthing back, downplaying the validity of your emotions and the kicker is when he tells you to ‘calm down, it really isn’t that big of a deal.’
he’s semi-erect before you even slap him because he knows what’s coming. he’s at full mast after the impact, his face stinging but it’s making his cock pulse in time with the throbbing of his cheek. the look of disgust on your face makes him feel like he could cum right then and there. his brain feels all fuzzy as you start yelling at him, about how he’s a ‘pathetic’ excuse for a man and a sick freak for getting off on it.
it’s hard for you to stay mad at him when he’s standing there with a tent in his pants, all flushed and flustered, and not just from the sting of your slap.
-
‘you like it when i’m mean to you, don’t you?’ you hiss at him, his twitching cock buried deep in your heat while your thighs straddle his. both your hands slide down from cupping his face to grip his shoulders, rocking forward as you both moan in unison. ‘say it!’ you demand, but it comes out a little breathless as you rotate your hips again, shuddering as the broad head of his cock kisses your sweet spot.
‘y-yes! s’love it…’ jake whimpers beneath you, practically drooling as his fingers dig into your asscheeks, gripping your flesh like he fears you’ll vanish if he lets go. despite the way he’s melting into a puddle of horny shame on the mattress, his hands guide your hips to keep moving against him, trying to help steady your rhythm. he bucks up into you frantically, your paces asynchronous and it’s starting to drive you mad.
‘jesus… you can’t even fuck me right’ you bemoan, hand closing around his neck as you swat his own away from your sides. ‘just play with my tits or something, make yourself useful’ you mumble. your thumb presses into the dip where his pulse flutters, steadying yourself with your other hand on his shoulder as you start to ride him, doing all the work now. jake’s trembling fingers settle on your breasts just like you told him to (not that he needed to be convinced), thumbs swiping over your hardened nipples but he’s too far gone to do much else.
‘nngh! baby please!’ his back arches slightly but you push him down flat again. ‘you gonna cum, sweetie?’ you mock him, ‘you gonna do the one t-thing you’re any f-fucking.. good at?’ you’re getting close, too, losing your focus on berating him as the tension in your lower abdomen starts threatening to unravel. jake starts whimpering again, something about really needing to finish inside you, but you slap your hand over his mouth.
your need to achieve your own release loses against your desire to deny him of his own, or at least the way he wants it. just as his eyes start rolling into the back of his head, you lift your hips until his cock slips free from your fluttering walls with an obscene plop. with your palm still clamped over his lips, you cup his length in your other hand, stroking him slowly as you grind your still slick pussy along his bare thigh.
‘you don’t get to finish inside me if you’re going to be a useless piece of shit.’ you hum, your own thighs starting to shake as his hips jerk helplessly towards your hand, both so close you can practically taste it. ‘maybe when you get a fucking job.’
"You want me to fuck you like this?" His hand tightens around your throat, starving your brain of precious oxygen. Thrusts harsh and quick that he starts to slow down into a harsher grind, "Or like this?"
Your eyes roll to the back of your head before a stinging sensation is felt on your cheek keeping you partially grounded to the plush comfort of his bed. It takes you a few more moments to realizes he's slapped you, thick digits tapping your cheek again as he smiles down at you curely.
"Haaah? Yer gonna answer me when I ask you a question." He growls, taps coming harsher to keep your rolling eyes focused as his other hand stays firmly planted on your tender throat. You nod pathetically, fat droplets falling down your cheeks each time he ruts into you causing the head board to thump against the wall. Another sting on your cheek that feels as if it's burning, body flinching as you look up at him.
"It wasn't a yes or no question. It was a this..." He speeds up, fucking you so quickly that you can barely focus on his necklace swinging in your face before he slows back to that rough downward thrust that makes you melt under him, "or that question."
"Th-that. I like when you do that." Your voice is barely audible under the weight of his hand and he chuckles.
"I knew ya did you little slut." Another slap that leaves your cunt clenching him desperately, he watches your eyes roll back again as you cum for him once more.
"Think me fuckin you all slow like this means I love you?" His voice doesn't soften, sweat drips from his brow and lands on your tacky skin as you do nothing more than take what he gives. You give yet another pathetic nod that makes him suck his teeth.
"Tsk, yer stupid enough to believe that aren't ya?" He leans closer, lips right beside your ear as he admits, "I don't love ya, yer just the cock sleeve of the week."
They've just been slapped by Whumper, their cheek stinging as they flush from the hit. Their eyes automatically water and glisten. But Whumpee doesn't let the tears fall, doesn't let Whumper humiliate them further. Instead, they breathe deep and blink the tears away.
Eobard Thawne/Reader, 6K words (+a little Barry Allen/Reader)
Warnings: NON/EXTREMELY-DUBIOUS CONSENT | home intrusion | arguing | violence | lying | rough sex | rough breast/nipple play | teasing | exhibitionism | unprotected sex | breeding kink | just a tiny hint of asphyxiation | DEAD-DOVE: DO NOT EAT - As per, I'm being way to cautious with the warnings.
A/N: Nobody asked for this, I basically just wrote it for my thirsty self. Mostly based on the animated films (paradox and hell to pay). No further explanation, he's just hot ok.
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?”
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!
<3
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