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A New Beginning

Chapter Text

As you predicted, being a metahuman with the ability to resurrect yourself from a ghost-state by killing someone had its downsides. You had a pension for getting killed whether you put yourself in compromising situations or not.

It’s not like you weren’t an adequate fighter or that you were inept with a blade, you mastered karate as a child, self-defence, hand-to-hand combat, and archery as a teen in the hopes of being like Katniss Everdeen, and recently, you’ve become quite proficient with knives, daggers, and swords. Your father showed you how to shoot when you were younger and after getting the hang of it, you were just as good a shot as him. Between your fighting skills and your experience with killing, you sounded like an assassin for hire. Maybe you were.

Your Spectre form, as the metahuman experts dubbed it, didn’t bother you anymore. Sometimes you even got yourself killed on purpose just to slip back into your ghostly physique.

You moved to Star City right after leaving your dad’s house and you’ve actually built a life for yourself. You stole some money from a bank across town in your Spectre form and rented yourself a penthouse apartment so you could look out at the city lights each night. Anubis “Ann” Smith was your new alias. Why not name yourself after the Egyptian god of the dead? The irony was like a private joke that only you knew about.

Star City was a place of crime, not so corrupt as Gotham, but still had its perks. It was the perfect place for you to get away with murder and theft without it being too out of the ordinary. You enjoyed yourself and your new life, but after 7 months essentially spent in isolation, you decided you needed be around people. It was one of the reasons you strived for a corporeal form, after all.

You started hanging out at a dive bar in one of the harder parts of the city because you knew the people there wouldn’t go running to the police if something unexpected happened. After a couple of months, it did.

One night after a kill, you were sitting at the bar taking tequila shots when a gunfight broke out. Unsurprisingly, before you could even react, a bullet ricocheted and hit you square in the chest, causing you to blink out of the physical plane.

You were livid. After tracking down and murdering a man operating a huge child pornography internet network, one of your more noble kills, you were killed in a matter of hours by some idiot with a gun. Nope, you were not having it. You reached through the bar and grabbed a beer bottle, smashing the bottom off on the edge of the bar. No one noticed from all the commotion but they sure did notice when said broken bottle then stabbed into the instigator’s neck and you flickered back into existence.

The whole establishment fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop but you just glanced around the bar and shrugged. You mozied back to your barstool and took a swig straight from the bottle, you deserved it. Eventually, the patrons of the bar moved on and went back to drinking, playing pool, throwing darts, and making less-than-legal dealings but you still felt their eyes on you and hushed whispers directed your way.

“Is this seat taken?” a voice asks from behind you. You twist in your seat to see a man that you can only describe as tall, dark, and handsome .

“Go ahead,” you allow, intrigued at what this guy had to say.

He gracefully takes the seat to your left and orders two tequila shots. He was showing you that he had been watching you without having to utter a word and it only peaked your interest further. You each down your shots without flinching.

“So you’re a metahuman,” he starts. It wasn’t much of a question, more a statement that he wanted to confirm with you, so you indulge him.

“Yes but I prefer to go by Ann,” you reply cheekily, holding out your hand for a mock-handshake.

“Malcolm Merlyn,” he supplies, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips. Amazing. He released your hand and smirked at your shell-shocked expression.

“Nice to meet you, Malcolm,” you recover. “Now, why do you want to know about me?”

Malcolm chuckles lightly. “The abilities you displayed earlier and the coinciding timeline lead me to believe that you, my dearest Ann, are the so-called ‘Spectre de Mort.’ Am I wrong?”

Despite the fact that this man was clearly on the criminal side of the justice system and was undeniably a charmer, you found yourself trusting him. You could kill him right there, if not alive then certainly while dead, but you didn’t. “You’re not wrong.”

His smile broadens at that, but not in a malicious way, it was more like he was proud of himself for discovering who you are. “And can you confirm that you’re the one behind all the mysterious murders in the city?”

“You’re starting to sound like a cop,” you narrow your eyes at him. You didn’t really think he was SCPD, but you wanted to hear him deny it.

He scoffed at the suggestion, “God, no! Those guys are useless pigs that just serve to get in my way and end up dead.”

“In that case, I can’t deny your last question either.” You’ve learned to always be apprehensive and skeptical so you complicated the wording in order to spare yourself a concrete confession.

Malcolm’s lip twitched up in response and he orders two more shots. “I have a proposition for you,” he informed, throwing back his shot.

“Well, I’m not usually one to take guys in bars up on vague propositions,” you tease, mirroring his actions with your shot.

He gave another small chuckle before clarifying. “I would like for you to meet my colleagues. With what I’ve seen and heard of your abilities, I think you would make a lovely addition to the workplace and I would like to present you to them. Think of it as a job interview where you’ll be judged based on your powers and physical skills, not your interpersonal ones,” he proposed. He then exchanged his serious voice for a deep and smooth sultry one, “I would also like to believe that my proposition wouldn’t hold a candle light to that of any other man here.”

Malcolm was confident but he was also right. He was leagues beyond any of the men you already rejected from this very barstool. This particular man had a enrapturing set of blue eyes, a bright smile, a strong jawline, and a handsome dimple in his chin, not to mention his charming yet gentlemanly personality.

He must’ve noticed you ogling his features because he put on, what you were coming to call, his signature grin and raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘See something you like?’ And you most definitely did like. “What do you say, will you agree to meet my colleagues?”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree distractedly.

“Now about that other proposition…”

At the end of the night, after the bartender announced the last call, you and Malcolm headed out of the bar and decided to part ways.

“By the way, Ann. That guy that shot you earlier? His name was Puck and he had to be the most annoying and vain person in the joint, always harassing the women and usually getting away with it. If you didn’t end him in there, I’m sure someone would have sooner or later.”

“Thanks, Malcolm. I’ll see you…” you trailed off, since he didn’t give you a date or time for the meeting he roped you into.

“Tomorrow. 3:00. Does that work for you?”

“Eager to see me, huh? Yeah I’ll meet you here then.”

You both stand there lingering for a moment too long. You shook your head and giggled, breaking the almost-awkward moment, then stretched onto your tiptoes to plant a kiss on Malcolm’s cheek, feeling the slight stubble from all day. “Until tomorrow,” you whispered in his ear and swung around, leaving him in the dust.

As you returned to your apartment, you couldn’t help but dwell on all that happened tonight and what was in store for tomorrow. Malcolm told you that you the meeting was about your powers and skills, so you would most likely have to demonstrate your abilities, which meant another death and another kill.

When you arrived in front of the bar at ten to three, Malcolm was already there. You didn’t own a car, in case you died and wouldn’t be able to drive it back to your apartment building without raising some questions, but you hotwired one for today. Malcolm had his own sleek, black vehicle.

“Do you want to follow me in your car?” he asked, eyeing the lemon you swiped.

“No, I stole that one to transport a… prop. We can ditch it here if you’ll help me with the cargo.”

Malcolm followed you to the back of the car and you popped the trunk. Inside, bound, gagged, and knocked out was a woman that you kidnapped earlier.

“What the…?” Malcolm looked at you confused with his brows furrowed.

“I figured your colleagues would want a demonstration so here’s the unlucky asshat who gets to die today,” you explain, heaving the woman’s tied legs over the edge of the trunk. “Grab her shoulders, it’s bad enough I had to stuff her in there by myself.” The man beside you snapped out it and did as you instructed.

He drove you to what he dubbed as ‘the headquarters,’ therefore it was necessary to throw a bag over your head for confidentiality. Once you reached your destination, Malcolm took off the bag and helped you lug the woman into the training room. It was more difficult this time around since she woke up sometime over the journey and was now twisting and flailing as much as her restraints allowed.

“I’ll go get the other two. I originally planned to meet where there was a table and seats but the training room seems more apt in light of… recent circumstances,” Malcolm relayed. Thankfully, he didn’t seem too appalled at your plan, but it did change things.

As soon as he was out of your sight, a red flash of lightning erupted from the other entranceway and halted in front of you. That red lightning turned out to be a man that was evidently not the Flash. He was the same height as Malcolm but with neatly combed, blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

“You’re this Spectre de Mort that has Merlyn thinking he can just recruit new members, huh?” the man questioned, his face nearly touching  yours.

“Yes, that’s me,” you articulated after the initial shock wore off. “And you are…?”

“Eobard Thawne or, as you have seen, the Reverse Flash.” Ah, that made slightly more sense.

“I heard you died, but then again, I know a thing or two about non-permanent deaths,” you said with a smirk on your face.

“Part of your abilities, I assume? And what of that woman in the corner there?” Eobard nodded towards your next victim.

“I figured if I wanted to prove myself, it would be best to have a full demonstration and, as immortal as you seem, I didn’t think anyone here would appreciate dying today… unless you want to get your ass handed to you…?”

A slow clap sounded from behind you coming from a man with snow white hair and icy blue eyes. What was it with this group and blue eyes?

“Damien Darhk, and I am impressed by anyone who has the balls to give Thawne the lip he deserves,” he congratulated.

Malcolm nudged the newcomer. “Ready to get this show on the road, Spectre ?” Eobard recommended, annoyed with Darhk’s comment.

“Yeah, of course. So… who wants to kill me?” Three pairs of eyes gave looks that ranged from surprised to bewildered. “Fine, lets spar. Unless you think you guys will lose…?” You knew that egging them on would invoke their testosterone-brains and spur them on.

The first one to step up was Malcolm. He exhibited apprehension at first but once you got a couple sneaky hits in on him, he revved up. You kept up a good back and forth exchange before you swiftly ducked under his arm and threw a powerful punch to the back of his head then swiped his legs out from under him. He put up a tough fight, his training made him the strongest opponent you’ve ever faced, but you used your speed and size to your advantage.

You reach an arm out to Malcolm in a show of good sportsmanship, which he took only to pull you down on top of him in a somewhat… compromising position. You blushed and scurried off him to stand back up, giving him a pointed look. “Who’s next?”

Damien Darhk stepped up to the plate. “Fair warning, I have numerous special abilities and I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t want you to,” you smirked at the challenge. You still had a few tricks up your sleeve.

It turned out that Damien was telekinetic and could teleport, which was tiring as hell for you. He currently had you pinned with a knife floating towards your neck. Time to bust out the new moves.

As the knife tried to pierce the fragile skin of your neck, you concentrated, your irises flashing white and you ghosted through Damien and his knife, promptly grabbing the floating knife and holding it to his neck. After a moment you lowered the weapon and moved away from your opponent.

You noticed that Malcolm was staring at you strangely and remembered that you haven’t moved through matter while alive before that he knew of. “Newly discovered. Takes a lot of concentration while I’m alive. Completely effortless when I’m dead,” you panted, resting your hands on your knees; the new move really took a lot out of you.

Darhk took his place beside Malcolm. He looked impressed, despite losing.

“Last but not least: the infamous Reverse Flash,” you announced.

Between his speed and your exhaustion from the last two fights, it’s not long before you were trapped between a wall and Eobard’s solid body. His hand vibrated as it neared your chest. “You’re sure about this?” he reiterated low enough that the other two couldn’t hear.

“Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it. If you want to do me a favour, however, after you kill me, use your speed to untie Madam Samara over there. Trust me,” you urged. Suddenly your heart was torn to shreds inside your body and you changed to Spectre form.

Eobard did what you asked and Samara was making a break for the door. You picked up the knife from your fight with Damien and quickly blocked her path. You didn’t care much about—well, anything in this state but particularly prolonging the inevitable. You stabbed the blade through the wench’s heart with all the force you had.

As you flickered back into your physical form, you felt proud of the appreciative and impressed expressions on the men’s faces.

“So how about it, ready for your first female member?” Your eyes automatically landed on Eobard. As fond as you were of Malcolm and as impressive Darhk’s abilities were, the Reverse Flash was clearly the leader of the team.

“You’re in,” he acquiesced and you couldn’t help the grin that took over your face.

You liked your life before the trio, but now you could feel the missing piece completing the puzzle. This group would push you and support you, satisfy you and leave you wanting more. It didn’t hurt that they were easy on the eyes, and privately, you hoped they thought the same of you.

Chapter Text

A week and a half into training and getting the feel of the new team dynamic, Malcolm approached you.

“Hey Spectre ,” he teased. “Remember that night we met at the bar?”

You nodded. He was just as handsome in his sweaty workout clothes as he was in the suit he wore that night. Although you did thoroughly enjoy being able to see his large biceps and the outline of a well-defined torso in his current clothing.

“I’ll take that as a hint that you’re still interested in the other proposition?” he smirks and you roll your eyes, giving him a shove. “Dinner. Tomorrow at 7, I’ll pick you up.”

“Until tomorrow,” you mimicked your words from that fateful night.

Alone again, you peeled your sweaty top over you head. You reached down to do the same to your spandex when a signature red lightning bolt crossed the room until you were pinned to the wall. “Eobard,” you exhaled.

You didn’t get another word in edgewise before Eobard’s mouth descended on yours in the most passionate and hungry kiss you’ve of your life. You responded immediately with equal fervor, not caring that you were barely clothed and in a communal space where Damien or Malc— Oh shit! You were going on a date with Malcolm, you couldn’t be making out with Eobard!

You wrenched your mouth away from his. Your hands both clutched his shoulders and pushed him away as you tried to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. “Eo, I can’t… I just agreed to go on a date with Malcolm,” you pleaded.

“I know, I heard,” he admitted, his eyes still full of fire. “I need you. I have to have you. I want to make you mine before he can.”

You conceded. This dark, passionate, and possessive side of Eobard was really turning you on.

He kissed down your neck, no doubt using his super speed to leave marks instantaneously. “Have I… ever told you… how much… I love it… when you call me… Eo,” he punctuated in between kisses, working his way from the edge of your sports bra back up to your mouth.

“I don’t think s–” you were cut off with his lips pressed firmly over yours again. You gave in immediately, opening your mouth to the onslaught of his, relinquishing power to his tongue against yours.

You slipped Eo’s staple leather jacket off his shoulders and onto the ground, repositioning your hands to slide underneath his soft, white t-shirt. The ripples of muscles beneath your hands felt amazing and you were eager to shed the layer off of him so you could see his muscled torso, too.

In an instant, Eobard granted your wish along with the loss of your sports bra and spandex. You stood a couple inches apart, drinking in the sight of each other. Then like magnets you were pulled forwards and your lips fused together once more.

Your hands wandered over Eobard’s chest and down his arms as you felt his hands cup your breasts, and give a quick squeeze, causing you to gasp. He took the opportunity to fortify the path he marked down your neck and latch onto one nipple. He gently rolled it between his teeth, gave a quick nip, then soothed the area with his tongue. All the while one arm slinked around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him and his free hand occupied itself with pinching your other nipple. He then switched breasts to give each a fair treatment.

If anyone was still in the building, they must’ve been able to hear your moans and mewls at Eobard’s ministrations to your breasts and had the good sense to steer clear of the training room.

You tugged on Eo’s mussed up hair and kissed him deeply before sliding your hands down his body to unbuckle his belt and undo his jeans. Finally succeeding, you pushed the offending article down and migrated your dominant hand to the front of his tented boxer briefs to stroke his erection. You felt a damp spot from an escaped drop of precum and it only made you want him more.

Using his speed, Eobard rid you of your last article of clothing and lifted you up against the wall. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs low on his hips. You played with the hair at the nape of his neck while you continued to kiss and Eo started to grind into you, making you moan uncontrollably. He brought one hand down to your dripping core to explore your slit, then he pushed one finger, then two, into your cunt and pumped steadily. It was driving you insane, you needed more.

“Eo,” you moaned. “Eo, I want you in me. I want you to fuck me.”

Eobard Thawne did not need to be told twice, not today. He shoved his boxers down, and positioned himself, spreading some of your fluid onto him as he moved his cock up and down your slit.

“Eobard. No more teasing. I need you now,” you demanded wantonly.

He didn’t reply to your request but instead pushed inside of you in one swift motion and then paused to allow you to adjust. He filled you as deep as possible and stretched you in a way that caused a little bit of pain but a lot of pleasure. Slowly, he pulled back and thrust back into your wet heat. “You feel so good, wrapped around me. Like you belong on my cock and nowhere else. Tell me you feel that, too.”

“Yes yes yes, Eobard. Move,” you panted.

He created a rhythm and you soon caught on, meeting him thrust for thrust. He filled you so exquisitely that you may just be ruined forever, but that was his plan. Eobard reached his hand between your colliding bodies and rubbed your clit.

“I’m not gonna last. Eo, I’m going to come.” He increased the pace of his fingers and as your channel pulsed to signal your impending organsm, he could feel his fast-approaching as well.

“Me too, darling. Come for me,” he groaned. It was like he said the magic words because you skyrocketed to your climax, your juices covering his cock and your wet heat spasming around him. He kept the pressure on your clit, drawing out your orgasm while you cried out his name like a mantra and he couldn’t hold on any longer. You felt the warm streams of Eobard’s cum spurt into you and fill you up as he continued to push his seed deep into your core.

He pulled out of you and leaned his forehead to yours, bracing his arms on either side of you. “Now you’re mine, got it? It doesn’t matter what happens or who you’re with because your mine, first and foremost.” His voice was still deep and husky and it just made his words even more sensual.

“Yes, Eo. I’m yours and you’re mine.” If he could lay claim to you then you could have him as well. Eobard just grunted in response. After another relaxing moment in each other’s arms, the speedster was gone and back in a breeze. When he was visible to the non-speedster eye again, you saw that he took the liberty to clean up after the two of you, dress himself, and cover you in one of his spare white shirts. He held out your leggings that he swiped from your bag and you pulled them on.

You stood facing Eobard and searched his face for any sign of regret but couldn’t find any. He came upon the same conclusion when he scanned you face so he brought his hands up to frame your face. He leaned in slowly and kissed you. It was nothing like the passionate kiss from earlier or the sloppier, heat-of-the-moment kisses. This one was gentle and caring. He took his time, kissing you thoroughly before pulling away with one last, chaste kiss to your swollen lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he breathed and then walked towards the door. He didn’t use his speed but instead turned back with a warm smile on his face and a glint in his eye as he took in the sight of you once more before departing.

The both of you knew this was a one-time thing. As of tomorrow, you’ll be dating Malcolm… but the date wasn’t until the evening… Then you remember. Tomorrow’s Saturday, which meant no training. There was only one form of exercise that you would be participating in tomorrow morning and it was not the kind that was useful in a fight.

You threw your head back in a laugh, shoved your discarded clothing—which noticeably lacked your scarlet thong—in your bag and departed until then.

You woke up after the most restful sleep you’ve had since you died. Maybe all that talk about sex being good for you really was true. On that note, you put on a matching set of lingerie underneath some easy-to-remove clothes, and headed to the base.

When you got there, there was no sign of Eobard, but some of the weapons were off the wall, which meant that they went to go fight without you, or someone was here training. Eo tended to rely on his speed more than any weapon and Darhk prefered guns or his powers. The weapons off the wall seemed to be an assortment of throwing knives, arrows, and a bow… Malcolm?

All of a sudden you were pressed up against the wall. Eobard’s handsome smile eclipsed your vision and you forgot about your recent revelation. His eyes flicked to your lips and you strained against your pinned position to touch his lips with your own. The moment your lips met in a simple yet powerful kiss, your heart leapt and your bones caught fire. His. Yours.

Wait. Your date with Malcolm. Malcolm. Here. Now.

You pulled back suddenly and Eobard’s eyes filled with confusion. “M–Malcolm. He’s here. I think he’s in the training room,” you hastily explained.

“I’m actually right here,” came a voice from the doorway. You adjusted your line of sight to see none other than Malcolm Merlyn leaning against the door frame. “I have to admit, I thought I’d feel angrier when I first registered what was going on, but actually… it’s a little hot.”

Your eyes were wide, pupils already blown, and your eyebrows crept up your head at the shock of what that man just said. Did you even hear that right?

“Yes, you heard right,” Malcolm chucked. Shit, you said that out loud. The dark-haired man then stepped forwards, not stopping until he was in front of you, where Eo was a mere minute ago. He leaned in and pressed a slightly-less-than chaste kiss on your lips then hummed in appreciation. “I assume we’re still on for our date tonight? I’d invite you too, Thawne, but I have a reservation for a table for two.”

You were just getting over your confoundment when, in a burst of spontaneity, you pulled Malcolm’s head towards yours and collided your lips together. This kiss was all teeth and tongues and nips on bottom lips. You both pulled back for air and your lips quirked up , eyes roaming the man before you, “I’ll see you tonight.”

Malcolm wasn’t even out the door before you tripped Eobard onto the hard floor and attacked his lips with yours, his body with your hands. Between the passionate make-out session with the blond before and the wild one with the brunet that followed, you were soaking wet and throbbing. Eo’s hands roamed your back, grabbed a hold of your ass, and grinded your hips together. You let out a load moan then sat up straight and pulled your shirt over your head and gave the same treatment to Eobard’s shirt.

Just when his shirt was thrown off, Eo flipped you onto your back and you shivered as your heated skin made contact with the cold floor. Eobard bombarded you with kisses from your lips, to your jawline, nibbling his was up to your ear to give a quick nip to that particular erogenous zone. Somehow, he already knew your most sensitive spots and you basked in that, but right now you were turned on enough. Now, you needed to be filled with your lover.

You flipped the two of you over again so that you were straddling him. In an instant, you had his bottom lip between your teeth and ground your hips into his, granting you both the friction you craved. You peppered Eobard’s chest with kisses and followed the path of his golden treasure trail to unzip his pants. You pushed his jeans and boxers down just far enough so that you could free his rock-hard cock.

Meeting his lust-filled, lidded gaze, you kissed the tip of him, tasting the salty pre-cum that already escaped. You held the base of his cock in one hand and rolled his balls in the other while you dipped your head to lick a straight line from his sack to his head before enclosing your mouth around him. You were never one to shy away from a challenge so as Eo laid his hand gently on the back of your head, you slowly took as much of him in your mouth as you could, gagging when he hit the back of your throat.

You bobbed your head up and down his length several more times, continuing to pump the base of him and fondle his balls with your hands. “Ann, stop,” he strangled out. “If you don’t stop right now, I’m going to come.”

His words were nothing but encouraging as you quickened your motions. The hand he had at the back of your head tightened, keeping you in place as he thrust into your mouth a few times. He was deep but it didn’t hurt, you rejoiced in the feeling that you made Eobard Thawne—the Reverse Flash—lose control like this. Hot cum shot down your throat and you swallowed every drop like it was the elixir of youth.

Eo removed himself from your mouth but he was far from done. He pinned you to the ground and towered over you, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand. “You’re not very good at following directions, are you Spectre ?” he taunted. “I already have two people that disregard my orders, why should I want another one to nag?”

“Because I can kick ass, take names, and I’m a much better lay,” you tease back.

“Hmm… I suppose you’re right,” he caved. “I need you to follow my next order very closely though.” You nodded your head eagerly. “I need you to keep your hands here. Don’t lower them. Don’t uncross them. I don’t want you to move a muscle. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Sir,” you agreed cheekily.

Eobard smirked and shook his head. With slow and deliberate movements that must’ve stretched out for an eternity for the speedster, he snapped open the front clasp of your bra and hooked his fingers under the edge of your pants. He lowered the pants and followed the motion with his lips grazing your bare torso. Your nipples were left purposefully untouched as punishment.

He grasped the edge of your lacy black panties with his teeth and dragged them downwards. You lifted your hips as minimally as possible to help. Once you were bare, Eo raked his eyes up and down your body and settled on your dripping heat. Without warning, he slipped two fingers inside your slick core, causing you to gasp at the sudden intrusion. You were so slick that his fingers hardly caused any friction, definitely not enough to hurt you.

He pumped his fingers in a torturously slow rhythm. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you’ll do as I say. Tell me you won’t disobey me.”

“I won’t, Eo,” you breathed. “I’m all yours. I’ll do as your say from now on, I won’t disobey you, I swear… Eo, please. Faster.” You were so deperate for release, you'd say absolutely anything.

You threw your head back from the torturous pleasure he was inflicting on you so you didn’t see his movements, but when he removed his fingers, you glanced down at him. You were just in time to see his thick cock, one again rock solid, push its way into your tight canel. A moan escaped your throat and a deeper groan emanated from the body above you.

Eobard set a brutal pace with long, deep strokes, using his speed to obtain both the speed and the depth that most men could not accomplish. He slammed into you over and over, hitting your clit with his body at each thrust. You felt overwhelmed, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff and you jumped. Your thighs and inner muscles shook around Eobard and he followed you over the edge, filling you with his hot seed.

He collapsed onto his back and pulled you on top of him. You were both completely satiated and drained, but you couldn’t just lie there in the nude. After you caught your breath and your heart rate seemed to beat at a normal pace—normal for when you were in Eobard’s company, at least—you stirred from your comfortable position.

“We have to get up, Eo,” you drawled. “Can you use that fantastic superspeed of yours, which no doubt is to thank for that beautifully quick refractory period of yours, and get us cleaned up? I’ll let you come back to my place for lunch…” You winked and a permanent smirk settled on your face.

“Well, it sounds to me like you’re stroking my ego to get what you want,” he grinned. “Don’t you know that flattery will get you everywhere?”

In a blink of an eye you stood by the door, fully cleaned and dressed with the miracle man holding the door open for you. You walked past him with a mock curtsey, “thank you, kind sir.”

“Shall I walk you home, madam?” He holds his elbow out for you.

You take the offered limb with a natural smile lighting up your face, “You shall.”

The two of you walked side by side on the busy sidewalk, looking like any ordinary couple to the rest of the world. “You’re not going to obey my orders like you said, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you confessed. Eobard grabbed you by your waist playfully and pulled you in for a kiss before releasing you with a pinch and allowing you to continue your stroll.

Chapter Text

After you and Eobard made it to your apartment, you made a sandwich for yourself and four sandwiches for your companion. You may not have been an expert on speedsters, but you figured that all that running around and high metabolism needed more fuel than the average person. And you guessed right; he practically inhaled his meal.

You convinced Eobard to cuddle with you on the couch while Netflix played in the background. The pair of you fell asleep almost immediately and woke up around 3pm.

“Eobard,” you whispered with a mischievous grin.

“Yes, darling,” he mumbled.

“I want you to fuck me one more time before my date.”

His eyes snapped open at this and his face adapted a similar expression. “No,” he states.

“No?” you pouted.

“No, I am not going to fuck you.” His smirk still plastered on his face as yours fell. “Darling,” he lifts your chin, “I’m going to make love to you and it’s going to be glorious.”

… and he wasn’t wrong.

He brought you closer by your chin and lightly touched his lips to yours. You responded in kind and he deepened the kiss, keeping it lazy and unrushed. Never in your life were you  kissed with such tenderness.

He wrapped his arms around your back and you took the hint to hold onto him tightly. Eobard lifted you off the couch and walked to your bedroom without breaking the exquisite kiss. He deposited you onto the bed with care and crawled on top of you, one had bracing himself against the mattress and the other teasing the strip of skin that was revealed when your shirt rode up.

You ran your hands through his soft, blond hair, down his shoulders, and rested them on his clothed torso. You mapped each ripple of muscle, each solid rib, and both his nipples with your delicate touch. You couldn’t get enough of this man so you glided your hands under his soft, cotton shirt, lifting it as your hands journeyed upwards. Eobard was at the same point with you, his hands traced the edge of your bra under your shirt, showing you exactly what he wanted to do.

You sat up and separated from each other. Lifting Eo’s shirt off of him, you tossed it across the room and then he copied your motions. You smile at him and the corners of his lips lift, an equally warm and lustful gaze in his eyes.

He pulled you into his chest and kisses you again. You felt one of his arms snake around you and he laid you horizontally back on the mattress. He continued to kiss you sweetly while the two of you shed the remaining barriers between your heated skin.

Eobard’s hand slithered along the side of your breast and across your stomach, reaching down to cup your sex and then delving a finger along your slit, spreading your wetness up to your clit. As he continued to play with your bundle of nerves, he positioned his cock at your entrance and penetrated you, inch by inch. It felt as though you died and gone to heaven before you even began.

When he was sheathed to the hilt, he paused for a moment, locking eyes with you. He gave you the sweetest and most sensual kiss; his lips were gentle, his tongue swiped along your lower lip and explored your mouth the moment you granted him access, all the while he started to thrust in and out of you. You could already feel that you were not going to last long, and Eobard knew it. He removed his hand from your bundle of nerves, which you didn’t expect so you whined at the loss.

He grabbed a pillow from the behind you, “lift your hips, sweetheart,” and slid the pillow under you. Immediately, you noticed the difference. His strokes hit deeper than they had before and his length brushed up against a sensitive spot inside of you, causing you to cry out. Eo’s fingers returned to your clit while he impaled you and you were overwhelmed with all the attention, the sensations, the pleasure. In seconds you shattered and convulsed in pleasure.

Your lover, spurred on by the clenching on his cock, plunged into you with a renewed earnestness. Every inch of your cunt felt hypersensitive and you bucked up with each thrust from your Eo. Before long, Eobard began to lose his rhythm and his thrusts became erratic. He brought his fingers back to your sensitive bud and he rolled and pinched until you were ready to explode.

“Come with me,” he murmured and you flew apart. Eobard felt your second orgasm and exploded inside of you. He lowered himself onto his elbows and kissed you like it was the end of the world and this was his dying breath.

He rolled to the side so the two of you could cool down and once the cold air chilled your sweat-glistened skin, he reached down and pulled the blanket from the end of the blanket over you both.

You peacefully laid still and silent for a few moments. “And it was glorious,” you whispered.

“It was— it is.”

Your turn your head to regard his side profile. He was like two extremes, two opposite binaries, blended to create this perfect creature next to you. He had light blue eyes and blond hair, golden eyelashes and a smattering of freckles. He also had a strong jawline and masculine cleft chin, high cheekbones and thin lips.

“Were you created in a lab or something?” you wonder aloud. “Because you’re simply an enigma, Eobard Thawne… and no, that was not meant to sound like a pickup line.”

His smile matched yours and he turned so that you were face-to-face. His face then grew serious. “Gene-editing is possible at this point in time, but in 115 years, it will be commonplace for a wealthy family to genetically alter the embryo of their future heir. However customary it may be, it will still be costly, so usually only the first-born will be subject to such procedure.”

“You speak as though you know for a fact… as though—115 years? Is that– you really are from the future…” Your eyes filled with curiosity and intrigue. He gave a subtle nod to confirm the answer to your partial questions. You felt guilty for keeping so much of your past a secret, especially your name, but after a moment, you found your voice again. “Do you want to take a nice, hot, platonic shower together? I’m going to be cutting it close but I don’t think it’s very respectful in any time period to smell like another guy while on a date, even if they know about each other.”

Eo smiled and shook his head lightly before speeding off to start the shower and returning to lead you back to the steaming room at a normal human pace.

The temperature of the water is perfect; hot, but not scalding. You sighed as you stepped under the stream, Eobard close behind you. You felt his arms wrap around you, one travelling up to your breast.

“You’re insatiable!” you laughed. “You know I would love nothing more than to have my way with you right here, but I don’t have the time to spare after our last escapade.”

“I know, Ann. I just can’t keep my hands off of you when your standing in front of me naked with rivulets of water glistening on your skin.”

You playfully rolled your eyes before slathering shampoo between your hands and massaged it through Eo’s hair. He involuntarily moaned at the sensation and shampooed your hair in turn after he rinsed his out. The two of you repeated the process with conditioner and moved onto body wash.

You took the loofa first, poured a dollop of your favourite scented shower gel on it, and started with Eobard’s shoulders. You followed the lengths of his arms, blatantly staring at his biceps, then moved onto his pecs and abs, which you have already thoroughly mapped out. He was right, the glistening water did add a unique appeal. You then leaned close, your breasts just barely brushing his chest, while you spread the suds across his back and the curve of his bottom. Without warning, you dropped to your knees in front of Eo—filling his mind with all sorts of inappropriate thoughts—to scrub the loofa down each leg and foot with care.

He grabbed your arm and semi-roughly hauled you to your full height and kissed you. It started out desperate but transformed to a delicate dance of lips. “Eo I can’t—”

“I know.” He took the loofa from your grasp, added a bit more shower gel, and lavisciously cleaned the fragrance you two made from your skin. You pressed a kiss in the crook between his shoulder and neck before turning off the water and following Eobard out of the shower. By the time you stepped out, Eo was already dried, dressed and holding a warm, fluffy towel out for you.

He wrapped you up snugly. “You know I envy your abilities, especially at times like these,” you pretended to be annoyed.

Eobard just squeezed his arms briefly, then he let go and looked you in the eyes. “I’m going to go and let you get ready. I’ll see you on Monday, Ann, and remember…” his voice became dangerously low, “no matter what, you’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” you reaffirmed. He pressed his mouth to yours in a hard but chaste kiss before zooming away.

You weren’t going to pretend that you understood the dynamic that was happening between Eobard, you, and Malcolm but neither of the men seemed the least bit displeased, if anything they seemed to thrive off the knowledge that you enjoyed each of their company. Anyways, you weren’t going to question the good fortune given to you in the form of two men whose looks could rival those of ancient Gods.

You dried your hair, slinked into your favourite little black dress that you never got the chance to wear out, and made up your face in a subtle smokey eye and dark red lipstick. Just as you were giving yourself a onceover in the mirror, there was a knock at your door. Perfect timing, you commended yourself.

You jogged towards the door and opened it to the sight of… a stranger? Oh. A stranger with a gun. You didn’t even process that fact until after the shot rang through the apartment and burrowed in your abdomen. Dammit. Not only were slow deaths, like bleeding out, the absolute worst, this meant that you were going to be gravely late for your date at best or a no-show at worst.

As it turned out, neither scenarios occurred as Malcolm eased his way through your door that remained ajar, his gun drawn in case the perpetrator was still there. As soon as he saw you bleeding out on the hardwood floor, he holstered his gun and bolted to your side.

“Ann? Ann, what happened, who did this?”

You stared up at his sky blue eyes, overflowing with concern. “I– I don’t know… some thug, probably a friend to the guy from the other night. It’s fine, I’ll be fine,” you croaked out. You could taste the metallic liquid in your mouth. “Do you have a knife on you?”

“Yeah… why?” The skeptical expression on his face demanded that you explain.

“The sooner I get this death thing over with, the sooner I can kill some other asshole and we can go on our date.” He didn’t look convinced. “Malcolm, please? I already have someone lined up, I’ll be back before you know it,” you attempted to reassure him.

Reluctantly, he drew his blade from the back of his belt and handed it over to you. “See you soon,” you strangled out, a desperate smile on your face as you plunged the cold metal into your heart.

You disappeared into your Spectre form; all the blood from your floorboards, the knife, and Malcolm’s hands dissipated like it was never there in the first place. You looked down at the man, still on his knees and staring at the spot you recently vacated. Strangely enough, you felt different than when you usually did.

You weren’t completely empty and emotionless like you were used to, you cared that Malcolm just witnessed you bleed out in his arms. And damn it all if that wasn’t the proper motivation to get your next victim and still make it to dinner.

You double checked your list, grabbed the knife off the floor, and ran out of the apartment. Delores Jones, a seemingly kind and sweet daycare owner who abducted the kids and sold them to the highest bidder in the human trafficking business. You didn’t often take down such big hits, usually opting for criminals further down the food chain, but once you heard of this woman… this woman that was tasked with taking care of and protecting these children… abusing her position and selling innocent children into human trafficking and the sex trade for a profit? There was nothing that boiled your blood more.

It didn’t take long to find her and killing her would be a piece of cake… if she wasn’t currently running an illegal auction. Even being as evil and apathetic as you were, the sight of dressing these children up all pretty just to present them like an antique at an auction sickened you to your very core.

It was a damn good thing you brought Malcolm’s knife because most of these bidders were probably armed and you were going to kill every last one of them, even if it meant dying and reviving yourself multiple times.

You started by locking all the doors and barricading them from the outside with the exception for one back door. From there you scanned the layout of the place; the kids were behind a curtained off area while Delores Jones and her bidders were in the larger area. You knew you would have to act fast.

You passed through the curtain to see Delores giving an introductory welcome speech to the bidders. “...This has to be one of the most aesthetically pleasing group of children we’ve seen, and as we all know I provide plenty of quality product.”

The red, hot anger flooded you and you slit that evil bitch’s throat from behind. As you started to reappear, a shot fired. These people were quick with their guns but thankfully you were still behind Delores and used her body as a human shield. It was probably the best thing she had done in her pitiful life.

You sprinted around the curtain and met the sight of 15-20 frightened children. “Come on, follow me. I’m getting you out of here so you can be safe, okay guys?” You waved your arm and they followed you. “Quickly, kids, no time to waste,” you encourage as you hold the back door open for them.

Just as the last child stepped out the door, another shot rang through and hit you in the shoulder. You weren’t going to let anything stop you or slow you down. Your eyes flashed white and you locked the door before slowly turning around. As another bullet greeted your body, you walked forward with your jaw clenched, murder in your eyes, and confidence in your stride.

Another couple guys appeared behind the first one and obviously weren’t as patient, as one shot sunk into your heart and another into your head. Perfect, now they won’t know what hit them.

Bloody knife still in hand, you reached the retreating guys. Your knife found its way across the neck of the first man. Then, into the heart of the next guy who turned around at a bloodied cry. Finally, with all your might, you rammed the knife through the temple of the third bastard. Poetic justice.

When you pulled your knife free and the last man dropped away from your view, at least 35 people were staring at you, guns cocked. This was going to be interesting.

You received more bullet wounds than… well probably more than anyone… ever. You felt invincible as you made your way through the hoard of despicable criminals, fading and returning from view, stabbing and slicing all the while. Until finally, it was you and one man left standing.

He held up his hands and lowered his gun to the ground as a sign of surrender. “Please, just let me live. I won’t buy any more kids, I swear. Just please don’t kill me. I have a wife! And two children of my own! Please, I only got into this business because I was struggling with my old job.” You let him beg for a minute. It was always fun to see the once-powerful criminals reduced to a selfish and grovelling coward.

“If your family had any inkling of what you did as a living, they wouldn’t give you the nice funeral I’m sure you’ll have,” you smirked, plunging the blade into the side of his neck. “And they’d probably thank me instead of curse me.”

As you pulled the blood-stained knife from the asshole’s jugular and he fell to the ground with blood spurting out of him, the back door was beat inwards. Dammit… at least one of them probably had reinforcements in case things went sideways, and sideways they went, you thought as you glanced as the corpses surrounding you.

Much to your surprise, when the curtain pushed aside, it wasn’t a group of thugs that you faced… it was the Malcolm Merlyn. Wait, what?

Chapter Text

Much to your surprise, when the curtain pushed aside, it wasn’t a group of thugs that you faced… it was the Malcolm Merlyn. Wait, what?

 

“That’s what I should be saying,” he retorted. He wore his Dark Archer gear, minus the hood or mask. He… was looking at the floor? Oh, right. The corpses. “I thought you were just going to murder one person, not massacre a parent meeting.”

 

“Yeah, this wasn’t a parent meeting,” you simply denied as you stepped over and around bodies to stand in front of Malcolm. “We should head back to my apartment before dinner. Unfortunately my favourite little black dress is no longer acceptable,” you frowned, taking in the dress that was more holes and tears than fabric.

 

“Yeah… We’re taking my car, though, and you’re explaining this ,” he gestured at the room, “on the way.”

 

“Fine.” You followed him to his vehicle.

 

“So...? Any day here, Hitler.” Oh, he was mad. He hid it well before you were locked into a moving vehicle but now that you couldn’t avoid his fury? He was fuming. “You’re going to get yourself caught by the Green Archer or one of his lackeys and then we’ll have to come in and rescue you like some sort of hero . You do know that they have power-dampening handcuffs, right? Your powers will be useless.”

 

The more he spoke, the more livid you became. “ Hitler ? You did not just compare me to Hitler! Those people in there—those monsters were there for an auction. Oh, an illegal auction, not so bad, right? Wrong. They were bidding on children that my target had abducted from her so-called daycare, but go ahead. Call me Hitler. And don’t bother trying to come to my rescue if I get captured, I’d rather—wait, you didn’t see the children?” Your voice immediately changed from furious to distressed in a matter of seconds.

 

“There were no children, Ann. It was just a parent meeting at a daycare,” he told you, not unlike the way a nurse would talk to a psych patient. Then he muttered under his breath, “I guess repeatedly dying does scramble your brains.”

 

“Shut the fuck up and take me back there right now.” You could feel the rush from before start to wear off and the blood spatter on your face from your last couple victims began to dry, not to mention your blood-soaked hand that still held the razor-sharp blade. Needless to say, you were not in the mood for anyone’s bullshit right now.

 

“I’m not taking you back to the scene of a crime where you slaughtered 40 parents and a day care lady! No, Ann.”

 

That was it. You reached for the car door handle but found that he locked it. Asshole. Just as you were about to drain your energy reserves to ghost through the door, the Reverse Flash phased into the backseat.

 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grinned at you in awe while you twisted around, looking frantic and confused. “You were absolutely amazing in there, I only wish that I could have stayed to watch you. Stunning. Oh, I brought those kids to the SCPD so the pigs could actually do their jobs for once, hope you don’t mind.”

 

Now that brought an equally foolish grin to your face. “Eobard Thawne, I could kiss you.”

 

“Well, what are you waiting for, then?” he challenged.

 

You leaned towards the backseat as far as you could, thread the fingers of your unbloodied hand through the hair on the back of his head, and surged forwards, fusing your lips together. Within seconds Eobard phased you through your seat and settled you on his lap. The two of you were so caught up with each other that you didn’t even notice that the vehicle had come to a stop until a throat cleared from the front seat. You couldn’t help but redden slightly at the thought that you were making out with someone in the backseat while your supposed date drove.

 

“Look, Ann, I’m sorry. Hold on—Thawne, do you mind leaving for this? I’d rather you not be here to see me grovel.”

 

Said man looked at you and you nodded your head, permitting him to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, thanks for helping the kids back there.”

 

“Anytime, darling. See you tomorrow,” he echoed, smile still etched on his face. He gave you a quick but hardly chaste kiss and shut the door behind him.

 

“How about we head up to my apartment to discuss this so I can clean up a bit,” you suggested. Malcolm nodded, getting out of his vehicle and opened your door for you.

 

You led the way up to your apartment and let the two of you in.

 

“I didn’t know, I’m so sorry. It’s just that after the League of Assassins, I turned away from killing for a while and even though I’m better now… God, seeing you there, covered in blood, my knife in your hand… you just smiled. Surrounded by bodies in a children’s daycare and you grinned like a kid on Christmas. It was a bit unnerving,” he confessed. “Look, I shouldn’t have said what I said and I should’ve let you explain before jumping to conclusions and making accusations like that… forgive me?”

 

He sounded so sincere and his somber expression fortified that. You loved hearing the desperate pleas of your victims before you killed them but not from this man. No, his sorrowful blue eyes were enough for you to give in. “Fine. It’s… 9:30 and I’m starving. Can you find some takeout while I shower and change?”

 

Between your adrenaline rush and endorphin rush, the weight of all that fighting and dying hadn’t had a chance to hit you before. Now, you felt exhausted right down to your bones and you couldn’t imagine going to a restaurant in this state.

 

“Thank you, I’ll just grab you some takeout and let myself out,” he grabbed for his phone in one of his many pockets.

 

“What? No. You’re getting enough takeout for the two of us and you’re staying here to eat it with me. Call it the revised version of our date.” He looked delighted about this new change of events. 

 

“Certainly, m’lady,” he smirked, giving you a once over. You remembered that your dress was basically in rags and rolled your eyes. You left to clean up but your smile was still present.

 

Sure, he was a dick when he thought you’d gone mental but he genuinely seemed sorry. Plus, disagreeing was supposed to be healthy in a relationship, to a certain extent. Malcolm put on a tough façade but you could tell that he was only impassioned because he started to care about you. You were sure that you and Eobard would have many disagreements in your future, even if you were currently living in a honeymoon phase. 

 

And no, you were not letting your brain dwell on whatever the hell was happening between Eo and you and Malcolm. Honestly? You  didn’t care. They knew about each other, they weren’t pulling at you from either direction or forcing you to choose, they actually didn’t seem bothered by the other. So, if it was working for them, then it was working for you, too.

 

Once you hopped out of the shower, you put on a simple pair of black jeans and a burgundy, cashmere sweater. You decided to forgo another full face of makeup and primped hair and instead just combed through your damp hair and put the minimal amount of makeup on your face in order to keep you from looking as dead as you often were.

 

You exited your room and returned to the kitchen area. You wished you could say you didn’t care if Malcolm like what you looked like or not… but you were always a little self-conscious about your appearance.

 

“Wow,” Malcolm breathed out. The aroma of pizza intoxicated your sensed as you inhaled deeply and let out a quiet moan. “I’m glad you approve of my choice of takeout, but really… wow. You look—”

 

“Yeah, I know,” you interrupted. “I’m not dressed for a date but after the events of tonight I really just wanted to be comfortable.”

 

“—Lovely. I was going to say that you look lovely but I know now that I was wrong.” You gave an insincere smile and veered your eyes in any other direction. Malcolm continued, “No. Beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. Those are all much more accurate words to try and encapsulate your natural radiance with.” Your eyes shot up to his warm and smiling face. “Earlier, when I first came here, you were dying and you still somehow managed to look divine. When I saw you at that daycare, covered in blood and your dress half torn off, you looked ravishing. And now, allowing me to see you look more relaxed and comfortable? You are… ineffable.”

 

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks and you figured you must resemble a tomato after that compelling speech. Unable to resist, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Malcolm’s mouth. As you were pulling away, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to him. He glanced up at your eyes then returned his gaze to your mouth and kissed you for all you were worth. It was exhilarating and thrilling and absolutely going to lead to more, or so you thought.

 

As your hands pushed off the outer layer of the Dark Arrow suit, he already removed the cowl and quiver, your stomach let out a noticeably loud rumble. You pulled away with an apologetic smile on your lips but Malcolm cut you off, “I think we better eat before this pizza goes cold anyways. Cold pizza is reserved for mornings anyways.”

 

You chuckled, “my dad and I used to do that all the time on the weekends…” Your voice grew small. You haven’t talked about your previous life with anyone since you started over.

 

“Sounds like he was a great guy,” Malcolm gave you a sympathetic smile and rubbed your shoulder soothingly. The way the two of you were talking, it sounded like your father died. Part of you wanted to keep up the charade but a larger part of you just wanted to let it fall, and if not around one of the men you were seeing, then who?

 

“He’s… he’s actually still alive. I miss him though, I haven’t seen him since I became the Spectre de Mort . Also, while I’m being really honest and vulnerable with you, can I tell you about something that happened today?” You peered up at Malcolm with large eyes.

 

“Yes, I’d love to hear it.”

 

“Well, usually when I switch into Spectre form, I basically become a psychopath; like I’m still not going to go shoot up a school or anything but my capacity to care and feel empathetic pretty much vanishes. Today though… today, after I died, I looked down at you, staring at the spot where I died and I felt… something. I felt awful and so sorry that you just had to watch me bleed out with no idea when I’d come back. Besides with my dad, I can’t remember feeling much of anything for anyone in that state,” you confess.

 

“I don’t know what to say except I’m glad these feelings can conquer death because that sounds pretty promising for me.”

 

“Yeah…” you said dreamily. “Maybe in my Spectre form I’m really a sociopath, not a full-blown psychopath,” you joked, “but enough about feelings and crap because I am starving.”

 

Malcolm chuckled, “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

 

All the while you and Malcolm ate pizza, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. A lingering touch on the knee here and a prolonged moment of eye contact there; it all felt like some elaborate foreplay. By the time the pizza box was empty, the two of you were as close as you could possibly be on kitchen stools.

 

You gazed into his crystal blue eyes and you found them simply irresistible, and he knew it. “Come here,” he stood up and opened his arms in invitation. You met him halfway and there was nothing you could—or wanted—to do to stop the lure of his lips.

 

His lips brushed against yours, innocent and teasing. The world fell away and it was just the two of you, joined as one. You ran your fingers down his spine and he pulled you closer until there wasn’t a breath between your heated bodies. A warmth spread throughout your body but you shivered all the same. In that moment, you felt whole, like something cliché out of a romance novel.

 

You reluctantly pulled away and tilted your head away from Malcolm’s as you let out a giant yawn. “I hope that’s a testament to your day today and not my kissing skills,” he ribbed, smiling down at you.

 

“Definitely the former, I’m so sorry,” you looked up apologetically.

 

“Don’t worry about it. We don’t have to do anything tonight that you don’t want to.”

 

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I very much would like to, but I’m exhausted. Do you… Would you like to stay? Just kiss and cuddle and sleep—God, that sounds dumb, I’m sorry.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks from embarrassment. He was a handsome, former member of the League of Assassins, of course he doesn’t want to cuddle , what were you thinking?

 

“Hey,” his voice soft and understanding, “I’d love to do just that. I didn’t ask you on a date just to get in your pants, I genuinely like you so lead the way, my fair lady.” You met his tender gaze and grasped his hand in yours as you guided the way to your bedroom.

 

“Make yourself at home. I just have to brush my teeth and moisturize but I’ll leave a spare toothbrush on the counter for you,” you said, unable to avoid the slight awkwardness that made itself known since entering your room.

 

While you prepared for bed, you couldn’t help but wonder why things were so different between you and Malcolm, in contrast to you and Eobard. Yes, you knew you shouldn’t be comparing them, and you don’t compare them , just the ease of the relationships. With Eobard, you knew he cared, but you rushed through all the steps of dating and leapt straight for sex, not that you were complaining.

 

Malcolm, however, wanted to do the steps. You were positive that he wouldn’t say no to sex, but it wasn’t the basis of your relationship. You couldn’t really measure your relationships against each other because neither were better than the other, they were just different.

 

You opened the bathroom door to the sight of a shirtless Malcolm Merlyn in black pants and bare feet. It was simultaneously the sexiest and cutest scene to walk in on.

 

Malcolm acted as though he didn’t know why you were standing in the doorway, stockstill, with your mouth ajar and he moved to pass by you. “Excuse me, love, I need to get into the bathroom,” he said with a shit-eating grin on his face.

 

It could be because he was standing so close with his abs almost touching you or it could be because you were too speechless to come up with an equally witty retort, but you lunged forward and wiped the grin off his face. Malcolm almost immediately returned the kiss with the same intensity. You felt your back collide with the doorframe and you revelled in the roughness.

 

Malcolm broke away and you whimpered at the loss. “As much as I’d love to continue, my restraint is wearing thin and I need to save the rest of it for when we’re lying in bed together… kissing… touching each other…” You playfully shoved his shoulder towards the bathroom and settled on the bed in your pyjama shorts and tank top.

 

You decided to sink down under the covers and found yourself fighting sleep. That was how Malcolm found you moments later when he emerged from the bathroom, dispelling a bright light into the darkened bedroom. You crinkled your brow and let out a quiet groan.

 

“For a deadly ghost, you’re awfully cute,” he remarked, climbing into bed next to you. You immediately curled into his side, resting your head and your hand on his bare chest. He kissed the top of your head tenderly. “Rest up, my sweet killer,” he whispered affectionately. “Sweet dreams.”

 

And you did.