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Assorted speedster kinks

Chapter Text

Barry wasn't prepared for Earth-2's Leonard Snart at all.

First of all was the whole mayor thing, rather than being a thief and a liar. Although, in hindsight, maybe this one was a liar as well. He was a politician, after all.

Barry was lured into dinner and then in for coffee. It was actually ridiculous how he had not realised what was going on until he was pinned down on Mayor Snart's couch with his lips completely taken over by the other. He had come over for celebrating the end of Zoom, not for this.

Clearly, he misunderstood the intentions of the mayor.

Barry had to wonder if he would ever be able to read any Snart.

But that left him in his current predicament, pinned under someone who was basically a stranger with a familiar face, enjoying his lips and the roaming hands more than was probably honourable. Barry liked honourable. He always stuck to it.

But he had never really been kissed like this before, and that was certainly putting things in perspective.

How do you stop kissing someone who was kissing you so expertly?

The answer was clearly not. Barry figured this was an excellent time to learn how to accept his losses, especially when it came to Snart. And he was already kissing back anyway - when had that happened? - so he might as well give up.

Snart made a very pleased noise in the kiss when the tension seeped from Barry's body, accepting the onslaught of lips and hands as they came. It was still awkward to lift his own hands and put them on Snart's back, but the tongue sliding into his mouth was a clear reward for his efforts so he held on tight. Pulling the man a little closer, a little harder on top of himself, maybe a bit off balance to show this wasn't one hundred percent Snart in charge.

The way Snart rolled their hips together belied that last point. Barry gasped, only managing to break from the kiss to suck in air for a fraction of a second before his lips were claimed right back. Okay so Snart was definitely fully in charge. Fine.

Barry didn't try to take over again, instead wrapped his arms fully around Snart's neck to keep him close for kissing while simultaneously taking his own hands out of play, hoping Snart would read that as his submission. Whether Snart understood as much was not confirmed, but the approving sound from low in his throat told Barry it was a good move regardless. And then those hands - much softer than he ever imagined his own Snart's to have been but definitely as strong - slipped to the small of his back to blatantly thrust down his waistband and into his underwear for a hearty squeeze of buttocks.

The surprised moan escaped Barry before he could stop it, his face burning in embarrassment at his own sound. Snart was chuckling outright dirtily against his lips for a moment, squeezing and kneading his prize. The tongue came back in play and Barry was happily helpless for once, allowing a softer moan to escape after the positive response to the previous one.

Snart pulled away to lightly bite his bottom lip and pull it, eyes of a shocking pale blue searching Barry's for something Barry didn't know.

"S-Snart," he muttered hoarsely, unsure whether it was a protest or a plea for more.

"Leonard," the other corrected. "I'm on first name basis with people after I had a finger up their arse."

Barry blinked, eyes widening. "But you haven- oh god!"

"Leonard," came the correction again, a whole lot more smug and so very, very Snart.

Barry tried to glare, but that couldn't really last long with Snart - Leonard - fingering his hole. Seemed like every Snart was an arse.

But Barry gave himself up to this one willingly, with an arching back and an almost angry lunge to claim his lips again. He could at least make sure that this mayor made it up to him.

Chapter Text

Barry shivered, but only for a moment.

He was feeling cold in the sheer nightshirt, especially his soaked right side, but he wasn't supposed to move. Normally a shiver would be permitted, but not this time, and he was perfectly aware.

That, and he rather not disobey orders even for his own comfort this time. The moment people would realise he was not a doll would be… unpleasant.

But Len had sure outdone himself, feeding their exhibition kink in a way that would get Barry hard for months to come in memory. Just not right now, because getting hard in a light nightgown like this would pitch a very indecent tent and there were children all over the street. Len had locked him in his smallest cage to make sure he didn't shock any children - or worse, concerned parents who would actually know what the tent meant.

Mostly, it was going pretty well. Whole flocks of children had passed him where he was tied down on a fake stone slab in Len's current front yard, squealing at the amount of wet 'blood' all down his nightgown and steadily dripping from a tube under his neck to dribble down his fake altar. None of them had suspected he was real in the dark, the lighting from the street lights and the small lamp over the front door doing absolutely nothing to help an enquiring eye.

He made a perfectly good vampire victim decoration, and he could hear the parents laughing in appreciation every time Len opened the door for a group of children in his vampire costume, flashing them his reddened fangs.

Yeah, it was going fine.

He just had to repeat that to himself over and over again, that's all. Turns out it's pretty difficult to stay deadly still when your boyfriend was playing around with the remote of the vibrator in your arse from just behind the front door. As much as it was a pain to have his cock caged while Len played with him like this, and in the front yard with all the kids from the neighbourhood passing by, it was a good thing he was restrained. If it hadn't been for the rope, cage and Len's stern words, he would've flashed inside and gotten himself to a mindblowing orgasm five minutes after Len had rolled him on his fake altar out into the yard.

"Isn't your boyfriend with you, Mr. Snart?"

That was the voice from the nice lady across the street. She had two children who had just screamed on the top of their lungs at Len's appearance and were now no doubt collecting their candied goodness from the tray. Barry had to force himself to keep perfectly still and not accidentally give himself away, and the only reason he couldn't hear the buzzing of the vibrator was because it was so busy in the street.

"No, he couldn't be here, Mrs. Black." Len sounded perfectly regretful. "But I know for a fact that he's enjoying the Halloween festivities as well, tonight."

You bet he was.

He was also quietly dying on the inside, cold and aroused and ready to just rip himself off this decoration piece in the garden and jump Len's bones. But he couldn't do that without letting all the children and their parents currently going around in the street that he was not a doll, and he doubted they would get to live here much longer once people realised they had been playing some very kinky games where their children would see.

"I hope he's having fun." Mrs. Black was all politeness and herded the children away to go to the next door. Barry could still see the light from the hallway, meaning Len was still standing in the doorway.

His breath hitched when the vibrator jumped up to a higher setting, and then the light disappeared, signalling the door closing.

It was a good thing that most of the nightgown was wet with fake blood already, or the wet patch of his locked cock leaking would've been very suspicious.

The next group of children came up the path, giving him curious glances as they passed him, and Barry bit down on his lip hard to keep still under the onslaught against his prostate. At least he knew that he would be getting a much better treat than all of these trick or treaters out here tonight.

Chapter Text

Of course Barry had known the police was corrupt in this city. They told him it wasn't as bad in other cities, but Central City was as bad as Starling City and everyone knew what a mess that was. Crime lords ruled the city and the police department had arrangements with them to keep it all within bounds and no sudden gang wars breaking out and all.

But only when Barry joined the CCPD as a young CSI he learnt that the police force was basically just another one of the families ruling the city. They may be set up from the side of the law initially, but each of the major crime families had people waltzing in and out of the precinct like they belonged there.

Especially the Santini family, the biggest one in Central City. One of the younger sons, Rob, was practically living in Captain Singh's office, and Barry had a creeping suspicion they were together, like together together.

It was not a surprise when the whole CCPD was a mess when the Santini family got overthrown by a younger, upcoming crime lord who had only just started his own gang. When Barry was called to Singh's office he was expected to put on the case of the murder, to find and put this new guy away. The absence of Rob Santini in the office should've tipped him off.

The CCPD had to act like a family to keep a semblance of control over the crime in the city, Singh explained.

They used to have a good foothold with the Santinis, and they needed one with these new Rogues now, he said.

They had negotiated with Captain Cold, their leader, and come to an accord. Captain Cold would take a cop to marriage to solidify their holds on one another.

Barry slowly growing feeling of dread during the explanation was confirmed when Singh gave him a weary, but determined look and told him he was going to be the 'bride'.

The bride.

Not even respectful enough to let him wear a tux and be a groom because he was a guy. No, Captain Cold had requested picked him from a list and had ordered he'd be walked up the isle in a wedding dress - bouquet and veil and everything. Singh even acknowledged it was supposed to be humiliating, because Cold was just showing his power with this move.

So here he was, feeling queasy and restricted in the bridal corset under his dress that gave him some shape, itching to pull up the white stockings even if they were held up with garters attached to the corset, and most of all feeling incredibly humiliated in the large poof of white tulle and lace that was his dress. He wanted to rip off the veil and stomp off - thank god he wasn't made to wear heels as well - but the veil covering his face was the last barrier between him and the whistling crowd of thugs and Singh's grip on his arm was real tight to make sure he wouldn't bolt.

That part made it even worse. Singh had to walk him up there because he was technically the 'father' of their 'family', as police captain. Plus, Joe had insisted he'd punch Cold if he was to ever get close enough, so there was really no way Barry could've done this with Joe by his side until the last moment.

The only positive was that Captain Cold was… dashingly handsome in his dark blue suit. His ice blue tie had a subtle ice crystal motif woven in and Barry would have to admit that was a pretty nice touch. He may be marrying a crime lord with more blood on his hands than Barry had seen as a CSI in the past few years, but at least he was hot.

And Cold was smirking at him throughout the whole ceremony too. It was short and tense and rather disrespectful, but it was a small relief that Cold only had eyes for Barry right now. He hadn't expected the man to care about him at all, figured he'd just picked him from the list because he was the youngest or something, but now his eyes were glued to Barry and his smirk was hungry and like he knew exactly what he was doing.

Barry only truly tuned back in when Cold's expression changed, one eyebrow cocking up expectantly.

"Oh! Uh, I-I do!" Barry flushed bright red, grateful for the veil again because Cold was right back at smirking, now looking ridiculously smug.

"Eager, hm? I knew this was a good idea."

Barry tried to glare through the veil, shifting uncomfortable in his large white get-up. "I'm not convinced."

They had spoken barely over a whisper, but the elderly mobster presiding over the ceremony still gave them a someone annoyed look for talking. His voice was just a tad away from sour when he spoke the last words Barry would catch from anyone but Cold tonight. "You may kiss your bride."

Captain Cold lifted the veil up with a delicate motion that befitted the sheer fabric and the situation, and Barry appreciated it a lot. At least he was going to get a smidgen of respect here.

Or so he thought, because next thing Cold wrapped one arm around his waist to draw them flush together, lips pressing together in a kiss that was nowhere near appropriate for a wedding or an altar. Barry wanted to push away indignantly but at the same time his knees were buckling - he couldn't believe he was actually swooning for this asshole - and the kiss was too hot, too passionate and demanding for him to break away even if he wanted to.

Which he did. He did want to break away. Just… not yet.

Cold ended up breaking the kiss first, and Barry was only vaguely aware of the jeering crowd of thugs behind him. His now husband's eyes were so blue, piercing right through him, feeling like the very ice Captain Cold would stab his enemies with when he so felt like it. Barry felt bared to him and acutely self conscious of what he was wearing again. But Cold wasn't giving his outfit any attention; he rather gave it to a part where Barry was not covered in white lace or tulle.

Barry gasped loudly in surprise when Cold leaned in and bit down hard on his neck, teeth bruising - and then he sucked and Barry was definitely grateful for the arm around his waist keeping him upright. Captain Cold was giving him a hickey right in front of all the gathered thugs and police officers, claiming him in the most basic and public way he could. And right now, Barry felt more concerned with his husband's cologne making him feel heady and wanting to dig into his suit to find where came from than with their audience.

Barry trembled under the attention, and then he was surprised again with the shift of arms around him and suddenly he was lifted, befittingly in bridal style, and Cold was marching them down and towards the exit.

"Have fun at the reception, guys," Cold called over his shoulder. "Me and my pretty spouse won't be there."

Barry's face was burning up but he wrapped his arms around Cold's neck, hiding his face against his shoulder.

Maybe this arrangement wasn't going to be half bad after all.

Chapter Text

"Wow."

It wasn't polite. It was rude. It was basic decency to not stare at your roommate's dick.

But that wasn't just a dick. That was a monster.

"Like what you see?" The drawl jolted Barry out of his very rude gaping reverie, and his face burned bright red in an instant.

"I- I mean that's, how do you even- I mean fuck-"

"How do I fuck?"

Clearly not what Barry had tried to ask in his stuttering mess of words, but obviously what his infuriating roommate would filter out from there. This is why Barry hated Leonard Snart so much.

Even if he could not keep his eyes of that monstrous cock even now, and he really, really had had the hots for his roommate since day one. If only he didn't have such a nasty mouth on him.

To his own mortification the smug question had left him entirely speechless, just opening and closing his mouth like a stupid fish while trying and failing to not stare at what was still blatantly on display. Len hadn't given the impression of an exhibitionist before - in fact, he'd been pretty cagey about changing his shirt, of all things, in front of Barry. They had been roommates for at least two months now and this was the first time Len didn't retreat to the small attached bathroom to change his underwear before bed.

This was the first time Barry had gotten a look to confirm that ever present bulge was not Len being aroused at all times of day.

Even with his eyes glued to his roommate's dick, Barry did not realise Len was approaching him until he was practically on top of him. "Would you like to find out?"

Still speechless, Barry couldn't bring out anything other than an embarrassingly high pitched squeak.

"You think I haven't seen you staring? You're not as subtle as you think, Scarlet."

And that cursed nickname. So Barry blushed easily, what of it? Len had nicknamed him Scarlet right off the bat when they first shook hands and Barry had flushed at how handsome his new roommate was. He had yet to actually call him by his proper name, always rubbing it in how embarrassingly easy he blushed instead. He was so smug and so full of himself and so damnably sexy while being a complete dick.

"You know, if you keep gaping like that your jaw will get stuck," Len drawled, all amusement and no shame. "Not that I'd mind. I might even fit like this."

Barry's teeth clacked together with how fast he snapped his mouth shut. He couldn't blush even redder than he was, but he could certainly start feeling light headed with how his blood was rushing to his dick and face rather than his brain.

"Y-you wish," he tried, hoping he sounded anywhere near as tough as he'd need to keep the banter going and hopefully diffuse the situation.

He didn't.

"I sure do." Len actually licked his lips, looking like a cat who got the cream. "You can touch it, you know?"

Barry swallowed heavily. He should not. No matter how sexy Len was, he was an arse with what appeared to be criminal tendencies and definitely the kind of guy Joe had always warned Iris away from. He was bad and this was a terrible idea and that cock was as heavy in his hand as it looked. Len was clearly getting hard over this, much like Barry himself, and it was already difficult to touch fingertip to thumb while encircling the thick member.

Barry was so fucked .

It grew harder under his touch quickly, growing to a size that made Barry dizzy just thinking about it. Len was still smirking at him, not showing any sign of how this was affecting him except for a growing erection and the slightest twitch in his left thigh when Barry gave his cock a long stroke.

"This is insane," Barry breathed, weighing the thick cock in his hand and feeling, touching, stroking wherever he could. When a small bead of liquid appeared at the tip he dabbed it with a finger, and before he realised what he was doing he had the finger in his mouth, sucking the salty fluid off with a soft sound down in his throat.

Len's reaction was a soft, pleased moan, and Barry's eyes flickered up at his face in surprise. Len's eyes were boring into him, watching him so intensely Barry felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. He quickly let go of Len's dick and backed a step away.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean- you were joking, right? I'm so sorry, I-"

He was cut off by Len's lips on his own, and he yelped in the kiss while stumbling the few steps back that Len forced him. Next thing he was pinned down on his own bed, Len on top of him and all but devouring his mouth. Barry whimpered and clung to Len's shoulders - then quickly slipped a hand down to grab a hold of that delicious, huge cock again. Len thrust a hand into Barry's underwear to draw his own erection out, and they broke the kiss together to let their eyes flick down and look at them lined up.

Barry felt pathetic with how small he was, fully hard next to that monster of a cock of Len. He also felt aroused beyond reason by their difference in size.

They both used a hand to encircle their cocks, pressed together into the tight sheath of their palms, and Barry shuddered in humiliation and excitement. He whimpered for Len's lips and got them instantly, and then their hips were thrusting, working together to a quick release that they had teased each other to without even trying.

Or maybe they had been trying.

Maybe that's what the last few months had all been about: snarky flirting and staring and lusting.

Maybe that's why neither of them lasted more than a few minutes, their lips locked together so they swallowed each other's moans.

Maybe it's also why they crashed together on Barry's bed, sticky and sweaty and panting and neither caring about Len being in the wrong bed or, god forbid, dirty.

"Next time you show me how you fuck with that," Barry muttered. Any other occasion and he would've cursed his lack of brain to mouth filter, but the pleased chuckle from Len made up for it.

He hated his roommate but fuck, he was hot.

Chapter Text

Len was a patient man, he really was.

He liked his planning and his timing, his punctuality especially. That meant that sometimes he had to hurry to get the store opened and everything ready for his first customers, and sometimes he'd sit around waiting until the clock would hit the minute his lunch break started. Len had mastered both urgency and patience.

That being said, he was all out of patience with his recent neighbour.

The store next to his flower shop had been empty for months, of which he had gratefully made use by putting his flower displays in front of that door as well. If nobody used the store they sure wouldn't mind the rack of his seasonal arrangements blocking the entry. So it was already to his chagrin that he found the empty space being filled with a tattoo parlour in the first place, even more so when he never even got to see the owner until weeks later when he walked in with some misplaced mail.

Turned out the tattoo artist was some cute kid who was blustering and stuttering just over meeting Len. Sure, Len looked like some mob boss, but he had left the life of crime behind (mostly) and it was really not polite to be judging him on his looks like that. Especially considering the kid's clientele.

The tattoo parlour - with the dubious name 'the Flash' - seemed to attract only the weirdest and the roughest people.

Len had seen bulky men looking like old sailors straight from a comic book and a whole clan of bikers loiter about the front of the store.

He'd watched some couple come to the store with the girl clad in black leather and her boy collared. In public. Spiky collar and all.

And there had been that one guy that reeked so bad that Len could smell him from behind several strong smelling flower displays, dressed in something that was more stain than clothing and with a near empty bottle of vodka clutched in one smudgy hand. He had worried a bit for the tattoo artist's safety after that and had made sure to peek in through the darkened glass of the store front later, just to make sure the twink didn't get himself murdered. He didn't look like the type who could really handle himself in a fight, despite the his type of clients.

But the real problem… was the guy's opening hours.

There was nothing to bother Len while he opened his shop, pushing out flower carts and spreading the buckets of bouquets in an artful arrangement around the front of his store. Nothing to bother him the whole morning, not even during his lunch break. But halfway the afternoon? That was when his neighbour became a problem.

If Len would be entirely honest he'd admit the problem was his clientele, not the tattoo artist himself, but it was him opening that shop next to Len's that brought the clientele here so he was guilty enough.

Because those clients… fuck, those clients. Len had seen some serious folk while he ran the black market and the dark alleys of the city, but never had he seen a place so blatantly taken over by the bad lot out in broad daylight. They loitered, they littered, and they were boisterous. So boisterous, in fact, that when a group of them would enter the tattoo parlour, Len knew the loud rock or metal would be booming from the store within minutes. Like clockwork.

And Len liked clockwork, but he didn't like this.

And his own clients liked it even less.

Len had elderly people coming to his store for flowers on a regular basis to spruce up their homes. There were lovers and husbands and mothers with children. There were actual children, coming to buy flowers for their mom or granny like good kids.

And those hooligans in front of the tattoo parlour were not helping. He'd had several clients entrust him that they didn't really feel safe coming to his shop anymore, and now someone exiting the tattoo shop went as far as spitting in a bucket of tulips right in front of an elderly lady and that really did it.

Len's face was set on thundercloud for the rest of the day until closing time. He hurried all his flowers and plants in, cleaned up the shop, emptied out the till and locked the money away safely, and then he rolled up his sleeves to go pay his neighbour a visit.

The store was empty when Len entered, nobody behind the counter to man it. The walls were covered with tattoo designs and pictures of ones freshly tattooed onto still reddish skin. There was one picture framed right in the middle, showing the twinkish shop owner smiling brightly surrounded by men looking like they had broken fresh out of jail, all showing off tattoos that were presumably made by the owner here.

"Can I help y- oh! Mr. Snart!"

Len blinked slowly at the young man who just came in from the back. He was wiping his hand on a blackened cloth, like he'd been working with charcoal or something, and giving Len a bright and welcoming smile.

He didn't look half as shy as the first time Len met him face to face. Len also noted that the guy knew his name, and that he was suddenly very aware that they had never introduced themselves. He had no idea what the kid's name was. He had never cared to find out, and now he felt awkward for it.

And if there was something Leonard Snart did not like, it was feeling awkward.

He rested an elbow on the counter and gave the kid a sardonic smile. "No loud music today? Refreshing."

"O-oh!" There was the fumbling shyness from last time. "That's just when some friends come over for a tattoo. It's -it's like this sort of tradition for them, y'know? Is it a bother?"

"Yes."

The kid swallowed visibly at the direct, cold answer.

"As are your clients in general. They loiter. They are loud. They scare my customers."

"I- well, I can't really… help that?"

Len gave him a look. Blinked slowly.

The kid started sweating.

Len changed posture with a sudden movement, just to see the kid jump. "I don't think I ever caught your name, neighbour."

"I- me? I'm Barry! Allen. Barry Allen, I mean." Barry seemed very interested in the cloth in his hands and cleaning black residue out from under his nails.

"Barry Allen." It took a second but then it actually rang a bell. "You're Henry Allen's kid."

Eyes flickered up at him, but not in surprise. Figures that Barry had already pegged him as the type to have been in prison before. It did explain why Barry was so chummy with all those thugs though. They all just loved to be nice to the kid of the guy who would patch them up after every prison fight. Which also meant that Barry was actually in a position of some power over his clients, and he could easily tell them to behave better.

"Tell your clients to stop being such a pain and go make some alley unsafe instead of your storefront."

Len glared, but Barry stopped cowering. Instead, the kid's eyebrows seemed to knit together in what could be confusion or determination.

"They are my clients. I can't give them orders."

Len huffed. So the kid was going to back them being assholes. Figured.

"You can, and you will, unless you want me to come over there and teach you a lesson first, kid. My patience' run out and I do not take 'no' for an answer."

"Just because you're Captain Cold doesn't mean you can come in here and give orders to me! I'm not some thug on the street, and-"

Len cut Barry's indignation short by rounding the counter with fast, determined steps, grabbing the kid's arm and dragging him into the back of his store. Barry protested loudly, but Len found what he needed: the big chair perfect for his purpose.

With a swift and effortless movement he had Barry's arm turned on his back and the kid bent over the chair. He raised his free hand and brought it down with a hard smack on Barry's backside.

Barry yelped and struggled, legs kicking for a few seconds in which Len landed several more rather unsatisfying spanks on his backside. The kid was wearing jeans and the thick fabric didn't give him the sound he liked to hear; the sound that would tell him this was doing something.

When Barry suddenly went entirely still, Len paused to check on him. He heard the other breathing heavily, nearly wheezing, and trembling under Len's grip. He was also flushed bright red, and his eyes closed tight. Len's hand landed once more and the hard blow drew a moan from Barry.

That did not sound like someone being punished at all .

"Oh, so you like this, do you?" Len reached below Barry to easily pop his jeans open one-handed, allowing him to drag the sturdy fabric down to his thighs. Barry didn't struggle this time, even wriggled a little to help out. Len decided he might as well go all the way if Barry wasn't going to resist anymore, and when he dragged the kid's briefs down he could definitely see the proof of how little Barry felt punished by this treatment.

"Never seen a guy so hard over a few spanks," Len observed, adding a few sharp smacks to Barry's now bare buttocks. Barry yelped for the first and moaned for the rest. "I came here to punish you, not get you off."

"Yeah… tough luck." Barry was muttering quietly, but Len had good enough ears for a defiant tone like that.

"You should be careful with how far you test me, kid." Len spanked hard and fast for maybe a minute or two, watching the tension rise and ebb away again in Barry's body, the pinkness from his buttocks steadily growing to the nice heated colour he had intended to go for. But he could hardly stop now, not with the way Barry was reacting. Both the defiance and the arousal.

He released Barry so he had both hands to undo his belt, pleased when Barry simply used his newly freed hand to brace himself better on the chair rather than trying to get away. Folding the belt in two with the buckle safely tucked within a small loop, Len placed it low on Barry's arse.

"I'm going to give you one of these for each client of yours that bothered me. If it continues, I'll be back next week to do it again. But if you do shape up and tell them to behave… well, then we can certainly work out something more mutually beneficial."

He was not expecting the deep moan for his words, but the heated look in those eyes when Barry arched his neck to glance at him over a shoulder was definitely rather pleasing.

"I'll... think about it… depending on your performance."

Len offered a thin-lipped smile and next thing he brought the belt cracking down, causing Barry to jolt forward and cry out loudly.

This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

"Good morning, Mr. Allen. How nice of you to come."

Barry froze in the doorway, blinking owlishly at the smirking man behind the desk. He was really quite certain he'd been invited for a job interview with a Mr. Wynters, not Snart.

He was also pretty sure he had been applying for something legal.

"Snart."

Snart smirked at him and lazily gestured for him to close the door behind him. "That took you a while to get out. Tongue not as quick as your feet?"

"I was just…" Barry closed the door without breaking his stare down with Snart. "…not expecting to see you here. At all."

"You applied." Snart shrugged as if that explained everything. Then he beckoned Barry closer with a far more suggestive motion of a curling finger than he should, indicating the chair across of him for Barry to sit down. Barry didn't trust Captain Cold, of course… but there was little he could do about it right now. So he did as he had wordlessly been instructed, coming closer and gingerly taking a seat.

"So… tech support, is it?" Snart peeked at some files on his desk, proving he was really supposed to be here.

"It's currently the easiest thing to find a job in," Barry shrugged noncommittally. "Especially considering I'm apparently discredited as a CSI. Less likely to be hired as a scientist now, but tech support is always in short supply no matter where you look."

"Very true." Snart smiled - or sneered, Barry wasn't entirely sure. "Must be nice, coming to an interview and being able to be so uncaring about it, knowing you'll get the job anyway."

Barry shrugged again, this time offering a small smile himself. "I got mad skills. I get to pick."

"Do you now." Snart peered at him like he was peering over reading glasses he wasn't wearing. "So you don't really care for this job at all, do you?"

"Well, actually…" Barry laughed sheepishly, called out by Snart of all people. "This one was easily the best of all vacancies I found. I would've preferred this one over any other - but you being here makes me less certain. Feeling like I'm applying for some criminal job, all of a sudden."

"Oh no, you aren't." Snart picked up some papers to glance over and Barry honestly had to wonder if he was for real or just trying to look smart. "This really is tech support to a legit company. Nothing illegal about this thing. Just the position for a goodie-two-shoes hero like you, too; helping people and all that, I bet you'd love to help the employees of this company with both professional and personal problems."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Hmmm?" Snart batted his lashes, like Barry would honestly take him for being innocent. "Just that you would probably get into a lot of people's personal space, helping them with their computers… I can just see it: you leaning over someone to take their mouse from their hand, all but sharing a breath while you try to track down the problem on their computer…"

Barry narrowed his eyes. "You make it sound like I have bad intentions. I thought you knew me better than that, Snart."

"Oh, but I do." A light laugh, very un-Snart like. "But what of the employees you're helping? You're very pretty, Scarlet. Would you help them out?"

Barry was left speechless for a moment, staring wide eyed at the criminal across the desk. Was he really implying…?

Snart leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk and smirking at him. "Poor troubled people, in desperate need of help. You wouldn't just leave them to their embarrassment, would you? No, I think you could do better than that. I think you could crawl under their desk and between their legs, give them a hand."

Barry choked slightly, face growing hotter at Snart's insinuations.

"A hand, then lips, then tongue? A hero like you, you wouldn't leave them to suffer. You're always so… eager."

"S-Snart-" Barry was definitely very red in the face now, and on the edge of his chair. He wanted to stop Snart, make him quit this embarrassing and very inappropriate speech. But he couldn't. Not because he was physically incapable or socially stunted by their professional positions in this room, but because Snart was making him so hard with these insinuations.

"I bet you are really good with your mouth." Snart flicked one thumb over his own lips leisurely, pulling Barry's attention to them immediately. They looked soft and kissable. "You would swallow down any cock that needs it right down to the hilt, wouldn't you? Suckle on it like a lollipop, swallow it like candy. You would drink down all the cum you could get like it sustains you."

A small whimper escaped Barry before he could help it.

This was not what he had in mind at all when he came here, but fuck it was hot. Snart dirty talking him - technically sexually harassing him but Barry would've been long out if he wasn't in for it, and fuck that made him feel very guilty and terrible because he really wanted it. He really wanted Snart talking to him like this, talking out this sexual office fantasy. Barry would just have to look for a different job after this, really. It seemed like it would be worth it.

"You like that idea?" Snart was all but purring by now. "Want to show me your skills, Scarlet? If you're as good as I imagine, this job will be just perfect for you."

Sexual coercion, offering Barry the job in return for sexual favours. If Snart wasn't a wanted criminal to begin with, Barry would be hightailing out of here and get this guy arrested. If Barry wasn't so into this he would be hightailing out of here with Snart and put him in a prison cell.

Barry never knew he was this kinky, but Snart was pushing all the right buttons today, it seemed.

He got up on shaky legs, shuffling over around the desk to sink to his knees next to Snart's chair.

"Under the desk," Snart instructed, eyes sparkling. He didn't sound denigrating anymore, but aroused. Barry wondered if Snart had expected him to play along or not. But he did as instructed, crawling under the desk before turning to settling between Snart's thighs. The man was already working his dress pants open and down far enough to bring out a sizable cock, a sight that made Barry salivate so much it'd be embarrassing if Snart would've been able to see it.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, leaning in and licking the tip.

Snart noticeably shuddered, and next thing fingers wove into Barry's hair to draw him closer.

"Show me, Scarlet. Show me why you deserve this job with that hot mouth of yours."

Barry moaned and leaned in, and he didn't look back.

 

It was no surprise he received a letter that he was hired. It was, however, a surprise when he arrived and the owner's secretary gave him a long and detailed apology that was clearly rehearsed, because Mr. Wynters had been absent during his job interview. They didn't know who had the interview with him, but they left such a great recommendation they had decided to hire him despite the drama in the news concerning his name.

Barry did not expect to meet Mr. Wynters soon after, an older, greying fellow who looked nothing like Snart and came to extend his congratulations on getting the job, as well as apologising again for the botched interview.

Nobody could tell him who had been in there with him that day - although he was obviously painfully aware himself - just that the letter recommending him had been so intense and moving that they couldn't not hire him.

Whatever Snart had been doing there, he hadn't been up to any good. Just like always.

But Barry could hardly blame him. He couldn't be angry with him. He could only remember, and jerk off to the memory of Leonard Snart's voice encouraging him to suck harder.

Seemed like whatever Snart had been doing there, Barry came out a winner. He owed Snart another one.

Chapter Text

Len's intentions had been very clear from the start. The only real surprise was how much Barry was into it.

He had never thought of himself as the kinky type - had blushed furiously at the mere mention of the most vanilla sex things, actually - but ever since Leonard publicly claimed him by possessively sucking a mark on his neck during their damn wedding, Barry had been a goner. And despite that non-negotiated public display at the start, he had turned out the perfect gentleman in private.

He'd taken him to bed and their wedding night was spent with Len introducing Barry to a world of kinks slow step by slow step, until they finally crashed at dawn.

That being said, there was not much gentle about Len while they were outside of the privacy of their home. Barry knew better than to call him Len in public, for starters. Len had urged him to call him that - well, moan that name, really - the moment their door had closed behind them on their wedding night, but outside he was Captain Cold. Outside, he was not a kind man, he was a mob boss.

Outside, Barry was just a trophy to show off.

It had rankled in the beginning, of course. Barry had never planned for his life to go anywhere like this. He wanted to be a CSI not only to free his dad but to help people. Being the pretty housewife to flaunt had never even been considered. But Len was so nice to him - properly apologised too, the morning after their wedding - and Barry realised he could even make a difference from this new, 'powerless' position.

He may be just arm candy most of the time, but he was Captain Cold's arm candy. He could make Rogues do things because they feared his husband. He could influence Len as long as he did it carefully and not with an audience.

It was not what he had planned, but it wasn't all bad either.

The public thing would remain the biggest problem though. It was humiliating, and Barry got off on that apparently, but he just wasn't always in the mood. On those days it really chafed to be treated like a thing rather than a person. But on the days he was in the mood?

Oh, those were such good, good days.

And to be honest, the more Barry became used to his role within the Rogues, the less often he was feeling recalcitrant about it. The more often he could enjoy it.

It had been months now, and Barry knew what was expected of him. He was growing bored of the Rogue meetings but payed attention in case he might be able to diffuse some tension later, or maybe suggest a life to be spared. But it was so boring.

Or it was, until Len noticed.

Barry straightened up from his slouch immediately the moment he felt Len's eyes on him, face flushing as he realised he had been less than respectful just now. He hadn't meant to, never meant to undermine his husband's position when he did, but it still happened. He had been lucky so far that Len was not too eager to punish him like he would any of his minions - with a bullet or a blast of the cold gun. Barry had only gotten threats and humiliation, never physical harm. It was one of the reasons Barry had fallen so utterly in love with this man by now: the proof that Len was as sweet on him as he was on Len.

Rather than saying anything, Len picked up a pen from the table and casually dropped it to the floor beside him.

"Whoops," he said flatly, interrupting the Rogue - Mardon? Yeah that was Mardon - that was talking. "Won't you get that for me, Scarlet?"

It wasn't really phrased as a question, and Barry wouldn't dream of refusing. He only noted the thunderous look on Mardon's face for a moment before all but diving down to the floor, crawling under the table to retrieve the pen. In hindsight, maybe this was as much to keep Barry awake as it was to pester Mardon. Len never really did seem that fond of this particular Rogue.

Barry grabbed the pen and was ready to crawl back out and get up, but he was halted by Len's hand. There were no verbal instructions, but Len guided him back under the meeting table properly, and then between his legs. Barry found his head being pressed suggestively between Len's thighs, just far enough that he could glance up at Len's face without the table obstructing him.

Len was giving him a wicked smirk, and Barry's stomach felt like it was full of butterflies all of a sudden.

Len meant for him to do this here and now. After just sending Barry under the table in a beyond obvious way.

Everyone would know exactly what was going on.

Barry couldn't have been more aroused with that knowledge .

His hands were trembling as he reached for the fly of Len's pants, and the fact that he wasn't stopped short was all the confirmation he needed to know this was really Len's intention. Send him down while making everyone in the room aware that he did, and then not let Barry come back up because he'd be sucking his cock. Barry felt objectified and humiliated and so hot he had trouble keeping himself from moaning already, his hips rolling against nothing.

Len was half hard when pulled out, and Barry was salivating for that large cock of his. He always was, especially when offered. So he didn't hold back, just leaned in to lick the soft skin of the head, tasting the musk and the faint traces of Len's soap. Barry took the tip between his lips with a soft moan, the public setting slipping his mind quickly.

Len always appreciated his sounds, and he would never hold them back. Where they were was… secondary. Forgotten. This was all about Len's huge cock and sucking it into his mouth, down his throat as far as it would go, choking on it but persisting. He had a lot to learn but he was very eager for it, wanting to perfect this skill as fast as Len would let him.

He moaned loudly and completely missed the awkward shuffle of feet behind him, the dimming of the conversation that only picked up faster and more nervous than before.

All he knew was the delicious and salty taste of Len's precum on his tongue and gentle hands massaging his scalp encouragingly.

All he knew was the important things. The Rogue meeting could be damned - that was Captain Cold's territory. Barry was doing his own job and would not be distracted.

Not until he would be allowed to drink down all of Len's cum, anyway.

Chapter Text

The first thing was always the blindfold.

Ray would crowd in his space to make sure Barry would always have at least one point of contact with him as he darkened his world. Ray would give him one bright smile before taking it away, leaving Barry with the warmth of his body so close, the scent of his cologne and the tang in the air that was left behind by the power output of the dwarf star alloy. He would get a kiss for a taste of Ray, grounding him in the dark, and then the touch would cease with a longing slide of fingers slipping off his face.

This was the part that was always the same, and it helped Barry settle. He was thrumming with nervous energy, ready to bolt and run run run- but the small ritual at the start always settled him down the first step into subspace, eliminating all of his desire to leave.

He still wanted to run and jump and scream, but he wouldn't, because he would not leave Ray now even if he was told to do so.

The next part would vary: the part where Ray would decide where and how to position him and start tying him up in rope. Today was warm enough that Ray stripped Barry from his clothes first, and then carefully led him over a few steps through the room, tipping Barry off that there'd be suspension this time. There was a strong hook in the ceiling that would hold Barry's weight twice over without so much as a creak of protest, and they used it well at times like these.

Ray dragged a chair over and Barry was pulled back against his chest for balance while Ray pulled one of his legs up to place it on the edge of the chair. The kiss brushed against his neck made him sigh and lean deeper into Ray's embrace, but it was short-lived. Ray had to pull away to get started.

From that point it was just the quiet rustle of the rope and their breaths - Barry's still short and choppy in his own ears, but Ray's slow and calming. Ray's hands were on him near constantly, a warm touch here and there, fingers pressing into his skin to protect him from rope burn as a length of rope was drawn through a loop here or there.

Barry could feel Ray was using the soft red rope he favoured on a hip harness, and he knew Ray would not be using that rope for the suspension. It gave him plenty of time to try calm his breathing, knowing that they would be a while. Ray never rushed, always made every loop the perfect length, every knot the perfect tightness. He worked with precision and patience and forced that same patience into Barry's nervous form.

Ray was quite literally molding him into shape, making him let go of the tension in his body.

The rope sliding over Barry's chest now was coarser, but Ray was still perfectly careful about not letting the friction burn him. Barry let Ray manoeuvre his arms behind him calmly, easy like wet clay and holding his position until the ropes could hold it for him and allow him to relax.

He did so with a soft sigh, almost drifting a little under the silent but focused attentions of his lover.

"Stay with me, Barry," Ray said softly, reading the change in how Barry held himself immediately. "Just a little longer before you can relax.

Barry nodded mutely, not willing to break his own silence and risk ruining his trip down into subspace. He never really spoke during… it was afterwards that Ray would have the entire story out of him.

Ray was pulling away taking a length of rope, and from the small tugs Barry knew he was tying more knots off Barry's body. Barry was expecting it to be looped over the hook in the ceiling any minute now, but he was surprised by something different.

Ray came around and next those warm hands were on Barry's raised thigh. His breath hitched at the touch of rope, the tightening of a loop over soft skin, the pull on his leg into something higher, tighter, coiled with the tension that had been in Barry's gut all this time.

Ray was working a little faster now, minimising the time Barry would have to stand in discomfort. His thigh and ankle were tied together by the coarser rope, his foot flexed into several knots and loops before the remainder of the rope was pulled away as well.

"Now lean on me, sugar. Just hooking you up and you're almost ready to go."

Almost.

Barry leaned heavily on Ray when his lover's arm wrapped around his waist, putting his weight mostly on Ray's shoulder so he could lift him up more easily. Barry never wondered how Ray got the rope through the hook but he seemed to do so with ease.

Ray stepped away with the chair, and Barry balanced precariously on the toes of his free leg before daring to relax into the ropes. Of course Ray had tied him up proper, and of course it would hold… but the tension was still running through Barry's veins and the first moment of relaxing against your own body's balance was always the hardest.

Most of his weight was on his shoulders and ribcage, but the tight curl of his tied up leg gave the whole position a curious offset that Barry was already enjoying.

His whole body jolted in surprise when Ray's hand was suddenly on his cock. He only realised he'd gotten half hard during the process of being tied up now that he was taken in hand, and he shuddered under the attention with a soft, guttural moan.

Ray only gave him a few cursory strokes, and then there was the touch of rope around the base of Barry's cock, making him whine quietly in realisation. Ray was going to tie up even his cock and leave him to calm down like that, and it was both the most torturous and effective method. It would draw all his focus for a while, until it would become meditation in itself. Mean, frustrating, but perfect.

Ray finished up with a hum of approval, and framed Barry's face with his hands to steady him for a chaste kiss.

"There, all done up in pretty red. I'm going to leave you here now and let you rest for a while. I'll be just in the next room over where I can hear you when you call, alright?"

Barry nodded breathlessly, tension in odd places, muscles working for balance he had to give up on and his cock straining for attention it wouldn't get. He just received a last kiss and then Ray left him, the room going perfectly quiet with the soft click of the door closing.

His arousal was a burning hot point of focus, but the curl of his leg was as well. The balance on his toes was bad, Barry's weight shifting back and forth between his shoulders, his leg and his toes.

It took him minutes to finally fully sag in the ropes, letting them bite into flesh where necessary. He let out a shuddering breath and focused - let go. Let go of everything, even his tied and hard cock.

Even his stress and worries that had sent him racing for his lover at this time of day.

Barry was at peace, and nobody could bring him here but Ray and his ropes.

Chapter Text

It was one thing to have long, embarrassing conversations with your lover to make sure you have all your kinks properly negotiated - or as much of them as possible, anyway. It was another thing entirely to put those kinks into practice.

Most of their explorations so far had been good, very good. The one thing that had turned bad was easily stopped with a safeword. They had learned to trust one another, read each other's noises and body language and decided to take the step into somewhat trickier territories. Together.

All of it had been together and discussed both before and after. Barry knew exactly what they would be doing and what they would not be doing.

And still, he had not been prepared for the strange experience of waking up in the middle of getting fucked.

The first thing he was aware of was the strangest dream of rolling thunder causing earthquakes, and he knew he needed to tap into the Speed Force to save his family. But then a quake - or thunder clap? It was all very vague - actually jolted him awake, and he was overwhelmed by the sensations of Oliver over him, in him, holding him tight to his chest.

Barry gasped for breath like a drowning man, struggling for a second before realising it was Oliver and going still under him, only to let a loud moan be torn from his lips in surprise.

Oliver, meanwhile, didn't miss a beat. He was fucking into Barry with short, sharp thrusts that were clearly meant to wake him. Barry could sleep through almost anything, so to wake him like this Oliver had to be actually trying.

Heat flooded Barry's face and he clung to Oliver's shoulders, moaning again and angling his hips up so Oliver could press deeper.

"Finally awake?" Oliver sounded breathy, like he had been at it for quite a while. Thinking about it, Barry's arse felt like Oliver had been at it for quite a while too. "You sleep like the dead."

Barry whimpered and just held on tight, not awake enough to have a response. It was true that he slept that deeply; it was partially the reason this kink had even come up in their discussion. He felt silly for sleeping so long through getting fucked, but he felt unbearably hot at the thought at the same time.

"You moan so prettily while you're asleep," Oliver told him, voice low and husky in Barry's ear. "All the cutest sounds and you're not even aware you're making them. So pretty."

Barry arched into him, and startled at the wet feeling sticking between their bellies. He dropped back to look between them with wide eyes, jaw dropping when he realised he had already spilt once before waking up.

"Yes, you're that needy," Oliver chuckled. The words were degrading but the tone was loving, and that alone felt like a whiplash. "You came once already, and you didn't even wake for it. You love my cock that much, don't you?"

Barry let out a strangled noise that could be a 'yes' or Oliver's name, and he wasn't entirely sure which one it was himself with how foggy he still felt. Oliver took it as encouragement though, and he picked up his pace.

Somehow that reminded Barry that he was being fucked - had he honestly managed to forget that in a matter of seconds? - and he cried out quietly in need, arousal and the ache of being fucked for god knows how long.

"Maybe next time I should not wake you up." Oliver bit down on his neck, right below his ear, and Barry all but sobbed. "Just fuck you, fill you up and leave you dripping until you wake up by yourself."

"O-Ollie," Barry cried, holding on as tight as he could and trembling heavily, his orgasm a dizzying experience in this strange, unknown situation. It was perfect and terrible and entirely overwhelming.

Ollie bit down again, his movements choppy and stuttering until he came deep inside with a groan. Barry held on panting, allowing Oliver to take his fill.

When they had discussed this, Barry had had no idea that this would be so hot. But putting their kinks into action always had that effect.

When Oliver relaxed on top of him, Barry went lax with a shuddering sigh.

They'd definitely be remembering this.

Chapter Text

It was a wry sort of irony that a year ago, Julian was bitching about Barry not being good enough no matter what he did, and now he excused his active sabotaging by saying Barry was good enough to do his work properly regardless.

It was really not fair. Even if it was punishment and Barry had deserved it by being late again ("I was in time, but Iris held me up downstairs!" "Miss West-Thawne has no business keeping anyone in this precinct from their work no matter how many she gathers into her family. You were late, Allen, and you know the consequences."). It just really wasn't fair that this punishment made doing his job more difficult, and if Julian would have to end up covering for him he'd only be in more trouble.

Barry's only option was to try really hard to not be obviously hard and keep his eyes glued to Captain Singh talking them through the latest updates on running cases while Julian next to him gleefully flipped the remote of the vibrator that was pressed snugly against Barry's prostate.

Julian really did have the worst sense of humour.

Barry had no idea how he made it through the briefing, but his knuckles were white from his tight hold on the seat of his chair when Captain Singh left them and the detectives got up to file out of the room. He could not stand up right now, not like this. He was hard and probably leaked a wet spot into the front of his jeans - although his shirt might be long enough to cover that… god he hoped it was.

"Is there a problem, Allen?"

Damn Julian fucking Albert sounding like nothing was up whatsoever. Barry levelled him a heated glare - maybe more heated in the aroused sense than the angry sense but it would have to do - and Julian's lip twitched as he held back a smirk. But at least his lover did take pity on him, considering this was really not a situation Barry could get out of unless he wanted to risk speeding out.

"Fine. Walk behind me." Julian stood and offered a hand to help Barry up. Barry moved stiffly, quickly pulling his shirt down as far as he could to try cover his crotch. Julian didn't give him much time to adjust his clothes, so he quickly hobbled after him, desperate to keep up and close enough not to draw anyone's attention to his erection.

How they made it up to the lab was a mystery, but Barry was not going to dwell on it when Julian flicked the switch of the vibrator and turned it all the way up to the highest setting as soon as the door closed behind them

Barry let out a choked noise, stumbling to the side to grab a shelf for balance, his knees knocking together.

"Bollocks." Julian looked almost like he regretted doing that, giving Barry a slow once-over. "You look far hotter than you should, Mr. Allen."

Barry bared his teeth in a grimace at Julian still calling him that even though they were in private again. Julian would fuck him over his desk first before going back to saying Barry's name like he would in either of their homes.

And that really shouldn't be such an arousing thought either.

Barry gasped in surprise when Julian grabbed both his wrists without warning, pinning them to the shelves behind him. He trembled heavily under Julian's hungry gaze, not even trying to muffle the moan ripping out of him when he felt Julian's hand shifting its grip on his wrist to turn the vibrator down a little. A thigh pressed up between Barry's, and he was already rolling down his hips to grind on it before he realised what he was doing.

"So needy." Julian's voice had dropped, but even now he sounded calm and collected, like he was making scientific observations rather than making his lover go mad with desire. "You have no self-control whatsoever. Just a needy brat moaning for a good buggering at work over getting punished."

"Ju-lian- please-" Barry hiccupped helplessly, unable to stop grinding, not daring to break out of Julian's hold. The vibrator was merciless and Julian was close enough to kiss, but Barry had yet to get permission to do anything.

"Please what, Mr. Allen?"

"P-please- please let me- oh god, Julian please let me cum? Julian, please-"

A small, very smug smile played over Julian's lips, and the vibrator was turned up high again. Barry keened helplessly, his wrists still pinned to the shelves so his only option was to grind down hard on that thigh.

"Very well. If you insist."

Julian nudged up his thigh up high, putting more pressure on Barry's erection than he bargained for, and then he was spilling, eyes rolling back and his head dropping against the shelves with a dull thud and the soft jingle of glass jars shifting. For a moment he really felt like he was blacking out, the vibrations against his prostate becoming too much very quickly and the sticky heat in the front of his jeans-

-the vibrator switched off with an audible click and Julian stepped back until he was only holding Barry upright by the upper arms, looking far too smug and amused by this whole situation.

"Go get yourself cleaned up, Allen. We shall continue this after you're done with your work for the day."

Barry nodded weakly in agreement, needing a moment to get stable on his own two feet again before Julian could let him go.

The wetness in his pants was already getting uncomfortable, and he didn't exactly keep a spare at the precinct. No doubt Julian knew that.

He really did have the worst sense of humour.

Chapter Text

"It's right through here."

Barry had no reason to be suspicious when Wally stepped aside rather than going through the door first, just smiling when Wally opened the door for him with a touch to the control panel on the side.

"The Waverider's bigger than it looks," Barry joked - only to freeze when he stepped through the door.

"I'm really sorry, Barry."

The door sealed closed behind Barry, who remained rooted in place with wide, startled eyes. Like a deer caught in headlights, only the headlights were the predatory looks of Sara Lance, Amaya Jiwe and Zari Tomaz on the plush couch facing the door.

"Hey Ba-arry," Sara sing-songed, and Barry shuffled back until he was pressed against the door, gulping.

"Don't worry, we're not here to hurt you." Amaya looked like the friendly kind. Okay, Barry knew Sara and she wasn't evil - he doubted she'd hurt him on purpose, at least - but Amaya had that whole calming, motherly smile to offer, like she was honestly intending to reassure him.

Zari was the biggest unknown factor here for Barry. They had hardly exchanged more than a few words before.

Still, as soon as he relaxed just a little bit, Sara had stood up, grinning like a shark as she approached. "Off with the clothes, speedy boy. It's time to play!"

"Off with- what?" Barry squeaked, voice breaking rather embarrassingly. "What's going on?!"

"Allow me, Captain Lance." Barry was both startled and reassured by Gideon's voice, eyes wide and searching for her, even if he knew he would not find a visual of her here. "There is no need to worry, Mr. Allen. The captain refers to a tradition on the Waverider since the Legends first joined Captain Hunter as a crew. At the time Miss Lance and Miss Saunders felt disrespected by the men over their gender, so a sort of initiation ritual was created to put respect back into them. Every male to join the Waverider crew will come here and be 'dressed up' to each lady's wishes. Men experience this as humiliating and it improves the respect for the female crew members."

"B-but-" At least Gideon couldn't see him blushing. He hoped. But the three ladies present were looking rather gleeful at his burning face. "I-I'm not joining the Legends? And-and I respect you ladies plenty! You don't have to prove anything to me!"

Zari made a noise of doubt, but Sara actually offered a reassuring smile this time, putting a calming hand on his shoulder.

"You're not a macho like most of the guys we did this with, that's definitely true and appreciated."

"The reason you were brought in is Wally, actually." Amaya's voice put him at ease a little more, even if he was still nervous. "We weren't going to go all out on someone so young. Gideon suggested we could save the fun for you instead."

Betrayed by the AI he was to create in the future.

"According to my information, you are 'into' this and more," Gideon explained calmly. "But of course the ladies present will not do 'more' without your explicit consent."

"Of course, of course," Sara waved a hand dismissively. "We're not here to rape you or anything. We want to put you in sexy and cute outfits and we won't even touch you without your permission."

Barry gave her hand on his shoulder a pointed look and she pulled it back, holding up both hands in a mocking surrender as she back away grinning.

Gideon was not wrong, even if Barry had to wonder where she got this sort of information about him. It was a bit worrying that she would stalk him online, but then again that was partially her job too. He trusted Sara and Gideon enough to give Amaya and even Zari a chance in this, even if the way he had been lured in here was way dodgy.

"You will not harm or even hurt me," he stated finally, looking them in the eyes one by one. "No… things that belong in a toilet. My safeword is 'yellow'."

"Agreed." Sara extended her hand to shake on it, and Amaya and Zari promptly followed. It made Barry feel a lot more at ease knowing they all explicitly agreed to it, as they no doubt intended.

When they were all agreed, Sara leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Now off with the clothes."

 

Barry didn't get released from the room until five sets of saucy lingerie, three sexy Halloween outfits including something based on his own Flash suit and Sara's White Canary outfit, three 'cute' sleepwear varieties, and more orgasms on all sides than he could possibly have counted. All he knew that he was not going to set foot on the Waverider for at least a month if he was going to recover for it, and make Wally swear to never ever let himself be lured into a room on the Waverider that way.

When Joe later asked what Wally had needed him for, his face grew bright red and he refused to tell.

There were some things Joe would always be better off not knowing, and the dress code of the Waverider's 'initiation' tradition was definitely on of them.

Chapter Text

Barry was already trembling for it when they finished dinner. It had taken every last ounce of his self control to not just stuff his food at super speed, because he knew Oliver would disapprove and he would still have to wait for him anyway. He could definitely use his speed to clear away the dishes though, and he flashed them both over to the couch in the blink of an eye.

"Calm down, sweetheart. There's no rush."

Barry shivered because there was most definitely a rush, he was needy and hungry for this and he'd been craving it all day. But he was not going to disobey.

He let Oliver frame his face with both hands and place a soft kiss on his lips, allowed the man to calm him down enough to stop his shaking before they would settle down on the couch together.

"Deep breath now," Oliver instructed, and Barry obeyed, breathing in deeply through his nose and calmly letting it out between parted lips, proving to Oliver he was ready.

"There we go." Oliver gave him another kiss and then tugged him down on the couch with him. They shifted and squirmed together until Oliver was halfway laying down against the armrest and Barry on top of him, his head cradled by Oliver's arm against his shoulder.

It was comfy and Oliver had a good grip on Barry, both of Barry's arms halfway immobilised by the angle against the backrest of the couch and the press of Oliver's arm on his shoulder. He could still undo his own pants, but after that he was left clutching his waistband down on his thighs, nowhere else to go with his hands anymore.

And that was exactly where Oliver wanted him.

"Good boy," Oliver praised softly, pressing a kiss to Barry's forehead as he exhaled slowly, trying to not start shaking in eagerness all over again. Restraint hadn't exactly been his forte since the speed force started to course through his veins like an over-eager and horny teenager, but Oliver was usually there to hold him back. Oliver had far too much patience with him, and Barry loved and hated it both at the same time.

Oliver had grabbed lube from between the couch pillows - not like they didn't do this often or anything - and only needed the one free hand to drizzle it over Barry's erection and discard the tube again. His fingers wrapped carefully around Barry's length, like exploring the feel of it for the very first time, just like he did every time.

Oliver always touched Barry like it was the first time, loving and with wonder, and it made Barry whimper in embarrassment and need. He received another kiss to his forehead for the sound, before Oliver slowly stroked his cock.

No rush. Just a calm pace for starting out. Only he'd keep it up far longer than just at the start.

It was always a bit of a battle for Barry at this point. Relaxing and taking it at Oliver's pace was… difficult. But he was so very eager to please and he knew Oliver would make it worth his time. Oliver liked to test him but he was never that cruel.

But that didn't mean Oliver wasn't planning on torturing him for a while. With the slow stroke of a slick hand, Barry was still fast. Too fast. Too fast for Oliver's liking, for sure.

When Barry's breathing deepened, Oliver didn't stop, but when Barry started twitching, close to the edge and ready to fall, that was when Oliver would slide his hand all the way down to take a firm grip of the base of Barry's cock.

His whimpers and whines were ignored until Barry calmed back down, and then the game would start all over again.

Slow strokes, slick sounds the only thing audible over Barry's laboured breathing. An eternity until Barry got close again because it was just too little, just too slow, but even then Oliver knew exactly when to stop again.

Barry was whining plaintively now, his abdominal muscles working for thrusts he didn't dare to give into Oliver's hand. He got another soft kiss for succeeding at holding back.

"That's it, you're doing great, sweetheart."

Barry shook his head, even if he didn't have much space for it. He was not doing great, he wanted to cum and Oliver knew that.

"One more," Oliver said, as if reading his mind. "One more and then you can finish."

"N-nooo…" Barry whined a little harder, hands clenching tightly on his waistband to keep from moving. He was still squirming a little, unable to hold back entirely, because Oliver was squeezing so tight and the prospect of needing to edge once more was torture.

But like always, Oliver waited until Barry's squirming stopped and his breathing eased, and only then he loosened his grip and picked the stroking back up.

One more .

This time the tears started rolling down Barry's cheeks when Oliver stopped him right before cumming. Oliver soothed him with kisses and sweet words, but Barry couldn't stop his desperate movements this time. There was no calming down, not for a long time. And the terrible thing was that Oliver still waited for it. He still held still, squeezing Barry's cock tight until Barry stopped squirming and the short bursts of breath slowed.

"Now you can cum," Oliver promised when he finally started again. "I won't stop you again."

"O-Ollie-e," Barry cried, legs twitching again already as soon as the stroking picked back up. Still so slow, still so cruel. Barry needed to start thrusting in that hand, or grab it and do it himself, faster, harder, more- But Oliver was in charge and Barry couldn't do a thing. Barry wouldn't do a thing.

So slow, dizzying- "You can cum now, Barry. Let it go, sweetheart."

Barry's whole body shuddered, everything in him strung tight just to hold still under Oliver's arm while he finished, spurting over his belly and dripping over Oliver's hand. I was mind blowing and intense, and it didn't stop.

The whimpers became more insistent when Oliver kept stroking him despite his orgasm. He was too sensitive for it now, even the slow pace, and now it became truly impossible not to try pull away. Even if Oliver had not given him permission to move and was still holding him close, lips pressed against Barry's hair, he couldn't stop himself from struggling now.

"O-Ollie- p-please, too-too much-"

"Shhh," Oliver hushed him, voice soft and gentle like he wasn't torturing Barry here. Barry writhed and bucked, everything short from actually pulling out of Oliver's arms to show his displeasure with the post-orgasmic torture. Yeah, he had a short refractory period, but he still needed a break for that to work, and Oliver knew that perfectly well. He wouldn't be doing this otherwise, not after edging Barry for so long.

Barry sobbed, and finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity, Oliver tapered off the stroking and stopped. A warm, wet hand was placed on Barry's hip, and the soothing gesture finally allowed him to calm down again.

With the over-sensitising stimulation stopped, Barry was dozing almost instantly. The pain-pleasure ebbed, leaving him exhausted and warm and snuggled close to Oliver.

"It's fine, you can sleep." Oliver nuzzled into his hair and Barry sighed appreciatively. "You were very good for me, Barr."

And that was all Barry ever really wanted.

Chapter Text

Step one: Fall head over heels in love with Harrison Wells.

Step two: Find out he's is actually Eobard Thawne and the murderer of your mother.

Step three: everything but profit.

Barry could never pretend he had thought this thing through, but even so it was appalling to find out his lover was also his greatest nemesis; the man he'd been desperate to find and bring to justice since his mother's death, the man he put all his hatred in, in life.

It was particularly jarring because of the relationship they had built over the past year. Harrison Wells had been his mentor, his senior, his lover and his dom. Harrison Wells had become the owner to his pet, soothing his stress and his nerves whenever he struggled with his life as a superhero. It was hard to imagine any way to go on from this point, knowing Wells was Eobard, and Eobard was the man who murdered his mother.

So it actually came as a surprise when Barry was offered a 'way out', so to speak. It was not the route Eobard intended him to take, nor was it the one he expected him to take… but it was most certainly the first one to come to mind for Barry.

Opening a path to the past through the Speed Force… well, who said that couldn't be a path to the future just as well?

The real surprise was how young Eobard looked in the time Barry found him.

His face was nothing like Harrison Wells, but Barry had understood that was a stolen face. He hadn't been expecting a young Harrison Wells. But he had been expecting someone… older than this. Someone more weathered, not as happy.

Sure, Barry had aimed for a time when Eobard would not know his identity, and would not be thinking about travelling back in time to kill him, let alone his mother… but he hadn't expected to find an Eobard so… light. Barry wasn't sure if his aim in time had just been that far off, or if murdering Nora Allen had weighed that heavily on Eobard, in the end.

"…Flash?"

Eobard seemed confused and wary, rather than hateful and reproachful. It was a good start, and Barry knew it was time to force down his confusion or lose this game for sure.

"Eobard Thawne," he greeted back, carefully.

Eobard narrowed his eyes, but didn't become more hostile. "I never expected you to seek me out, Flash."

"And I wouldn't have, if you hadn't made it necessary." Barry stepped closer, trying to read whatever it was that was playing over Eobard's face. The admiration was there, but much more innocent than he had ever seen on Wells' face. There was also the hunger, more subtle here, and the disdain at about the same level. Barry would guess that the Wells version of Eobard he'd known was suppressing the disdain to befriend Barry, and this one was not or at least less. That meant this one didn't hate him quite yet. Maybe a little.

"So why did you?"

Barry gave a small smile with little amusement. "That would be a spoiler I'd rather not give you. Instead, how about we work out a deal?"

"A deal…?" Eobard seemed more wary, if anything. Probably expected Barry to play him, probably expected Barry to be decennia older than he currently was, and decennia more experienced and wise at that.

"You can have me." Barry spoke slow, calculated. He pulled the leather collar he was so familiar with by now from his pocket, offering it in one hand. "You can have all of me. In return you will never look into anyone from my life, let alone touch them or hurt them."

Eobard's eyes had widened at the sight of the collar, and Barry decided to make his offer one step more compelling. He knelt down, raising his other hand so he was offering the collar on both hands.

"I'll be your pet in return for that promise."

Barry would've lowered his head if it was the Eobard he'd known - the older, the Harrison Wells - but he needed to keep his eyes on this one. He couldn't be certain of his reaction without looking. As it turned out, he shouldn't have bothered, considering the star-struck look on Eobard's face.

"You'll be my pet? Just like that?"

"If you promise," Barry insisted.

"Of course I promise! Flash, this is everything- this is more than I ever dared to hope? Is this real? Am I dreaming right now? I'm probably dreaming, aren't I-?"

Barry stopped him with a smile by quickly grabbing Eobard's hand, pulling him a little closer and pushing the collar into the palm of his hand. "I want a full promise. Explicitly. Then you can take off my mask and put my collar on and I'll be your pet."

Eobard took a shuddering breath, fingers closing around the leather strap. "I promise I will never go after the people you know and care for. I will not look into them and will not touch or hurt them in return for you being my pet."

It was no surprise that Eobard was sharp enough to add the last part. Barry wouldn't have expected him to make the explicit promise without adding the 'but'. It was fine though, it was exactly what Barry wanted.

He released the collar in Eobard's hands, putting his own down on the floor while still keeping his eyes up, on Eobard's face. Eobard in his turn was trembling with excitement, carefully tucking his thumbs under the sides of Barry's cowl to push it up and over his head, revealing his face and hair.

"What's you name?" Eobard breathed, strangely respectful.

"Barry." Barry licked his lips, and decided against saying more. Just in case. Eobard wouldn't need more than his first name for a pet, after all.

"Barry." Eobard looked like he was tasting the name on his tongue, looking thoughtful for a long few seconds before bringing the collar around Barry's throat. Barry tilted his head back eagerly, allowing Eobard a better view at the buckle as he closed it.

"You're my pet now. You'll obey me."

"As much as any pet does," Barry answered, allowing a bit of mischievousness play into his tone. "Maybe I like being naughty."

The responding grin was so bright and excited, Barry couldn't help himself but grin back.

This young and innocent Eobard was a gift, and Barry was happy to have found him now. More than happy. He would have to adapt, from super hero to full-time pet… but he loved Eobard, and his family - his mother - was safe. It was all he could ever had asked for, and he would gladly take this.

He would gladly take Eobard as his master, with everyone else he cared for safe.

This was all he ever wanted.

Chapter Text

There was something in the men's bathrooms at the CCPD precinct that nobody ever spoke of.

Nobody acknowledged it's existence. Officially the Captain didn't know about it at all - although Barry knew for a fact that the captain didn't only know, but had made use of it as well. He knew that, because he was most commonly the one providing.

'It' - which wasn't spoken of, ever - was a hole in the wall between the last two stalls. There were more stalls then the men in the precinct were ever going to use all at once, so there was only one reason the door of the last or before-last stall would be closed.

The last stall was closed if someone wanted to provide.

The second to last stall was closed if someone needed.

It was a good thing that 'it' was never spoken of, or Barry would be embarrassed admitting how much time he spent on his knees in the last stall.

It was technically anonymous, of course. Just a hole, closed stalls, and the provider always waited until the other had left completely before exiting the stall himself. In reality though, it was a very quiet bathroom and the precinct wasn't that big, so usually it was possible to recognise who was on the other side of the hole by their grunts and moans. Barry knew he had blown everyone in the precinct but Joe - a cock he sadly recognised from a very awkward 'walking in without knocking' incident back in his college days, that he simply refused. He was not blowing Joe.

He was, however, blowing Eddie today, it seemed.

He hadn't done Eddie before - Eddie hadn't known about the unspoken 'thing' in the bathrooms before Barry got struck by lightning, and when Barry returned Eddie had already been together with Iris and supposedly not in need of the service. But Eddie and Iris had broken up last week, so Barry was finally in for a new treat.

New - thick and surprisingly pale apart from the pink flush from the tip down, nestled in dark blond curls - and uncharted territory that Barry was eager to explore. It was funny because he recognised Eddie just by his nervous breathing, really.

Eddie was only half hard - probably because he was nervous - but his movements were sharp and confident as he pushed his whole package through the hole. The hole in the wall was large enough for that for most men, although it was a tight fit for the largest Barry had seen. Eddie was not the largest, and it was a perfect fit for the guise of anonymity and comfort at the same time.

Considering this was clearly Eddie's first, Barry decided he could draw it out a little. Be a tease. He wasn't normally the type to take things slow but he always did love being a tease, when he could.

So he started with small kitten licks at the tip. Just tasting, smelling, finding out about Eddie's hygiene. He had high expectations, considering Eddie had been together with Iris - Iris deserved no less than a man with excellent pubic hygiene - and he was not disappointed just yet. Eddie tasted clean; salty and musky but not like the dicks that had been marinated in old urine for a life-time. Exactly how he preferred it.

Eddie twitched against his tongue, and Barry rewarded him with a firm lick with the flat of his tongue. Another one- one more, and when that drew a soft sound that was likely impatience from the other side of the stall wall, Barry gave in and took the tip into his mouth.

Holding the base of Eddie's cock in one hand, Barry went from teasing to going down on him proper. Licking and sucking with a good stroke here and there, playing Eddie's erection until he got the first muffled moans out of him. Then he cupped Eddie's balls, rolling them I his palm, squeezing lightly, and sucking on his cock a little harder.

Another soft moan proved Eddie was into it as much as any man would be, despite his initial nerves. Eddie was fully hard and a pleasing girth, even if a little on the short side. That just meant Barry had no problem taking him whole, swallowing down over the tip of Eddie's cock and pushing forward until his bottom lip was against Eddie's balls. He stuck his tongue out for a tease, swallowed, and drank in the moans from the other stall.

There was no denying it was Eddie now. Even if Barry hadn't identified him before the blowjob even started, the moans now were clearly in Eddie's voice. It was endearing, even if it would be a little awkward to keep up the pretence of anonymity after this.

Not like that ever stopped Barry before. Multiple colleagues so far had really failed at the whole 'anonymous' thing in these two last stalls.

This wasn't really the kind of encounter meant to draw out for long though. Barry had to get back to work, and so did Eddie. So he wasn't going to tease and dawdle forever. Barry had done this a lot and knew how to milk a man quickly and efficiently. Someone like Eddie? Shouldn't be more than a few minutes, at most.

Barry set to work for real, swallowing deep on every bob of his head, taking everything every time, and soaking in the moans and whimpers from the other side of the wall. Eddie had little control against a practised blowjob like this, and Barry made good use of it by making it fast and thorough.

It really was a few minutes, maybe just two, when Barry was swallowing down Eddie's cum. Eddie was notably shaking against the wall, moaning louder than he should in this setting, and possibly orgasming for the first time this week. Barry felt a twinge of pity, but also hope that he'd find Eddie here more often after this.

Eddie lingered for a few seconds too long before pulling away from the hole. Barry dragged himself up on the toilet seat to let his sleeping feet tingle and wake up again from the long time crouching, waiting patiently for Eddie to get himself presentable again and leave the stall. He heard Eddie flounder for a moment by the sinks, but eventually 'Detective Pretty Boy' was smart enough to leave and not wait for Barry to reveal himself.

All in all, it had been a very interesting experience.

All in all, Barry had a taste for more now.

He felt a little guilty about it, but he hoped Eddie and Iris wouldn't get back together. He wouldn't mind getting a longer relationship with that thick cock, after all.

Chapter Text

"Your problem is that you don't know how to relax."

Barry cocked an eyebrow at Nate, honestly amused there. Nate was walking in circles like an agitated chicken and Barry didn't know how to relax?

"Normally I would say something like 'get drunk' or 'hit a blunt', but I think the fact that you can't is part of the problem."

"Wow Nate. I didn't take you for the type." He got a suspicious look for that, and Barry returned it with an innocent smile before cracking with a chuckle. "Fine, tell me what my problem is. I didn't know I had one yet."

"You're too tense." Nate told him, as if it was obvious. "You're all strung tight like a bowstring-"

"Ollie will appreciate that comparison."

"-and I haven't seen you sit down for a breather in the whole week you've been on the Waverider!"

"That is because I'm here for a reason, Nate. I'm not here to chill or hang or drink, I'm here to take down that bastard who came to mess with my family and I'm not going to rest until we got him!" He glowered at Nate properly now, but the man was looking more accomplished and less threatened.

"See? Too tense. Gideon is working hard tracking down that guy, but she already gave an estimate of how long it would take her and it's still over a day. Over a day to sit down and relax."

Barry had no answer to that. Nate was right in this much, but he couldn't. That man had attacked Iris and Joe and Barry would not rest- but there was nothing for him to do right now. Normally when he had to wait during a case he'd go out and patrol the streets, or he'd head back to CCPD to catch up with some work, but here on the Waverider there was nothing he could do at all.

"I know."

Barry gave Nate a worried look at the smug victory in his voice. Nate was grinning like a cat who got the cream and Barry had no idea what to expect from him yet.

"C'mere, trust me." Nate clapped a hand on Barry's shoulder to lead him back to the sleeping quarters. Barry was hesitant, but not particularly suspicious yet when Nate lead him into his bedroom, promptly starting to search through a set of drawers. When he found what he was looking for he came back with a triumphant smirk - and Barry wasn't sure if he should be more worried about the smirk or the blindfold, rope and headphones in Nate's hands.

"You want me to relax through kinky sex? I should've seen this coming, I guess."

"What? No!" Nate laughed dismissively with that nervousness of a man still trying to pretend he was straight. "No man, I wasn't going to say sex. Not that there's anything wrong with you, but-"

"Nothing wrong with you either," Barry was quick to interrupt before Nate started to dig himself a hole there. "I won't judge whatever your preferences are, but I'm pretty open to anything so keep that in mind."

Nate visibly gulped at the revelation, looking distinctly flustered now. That was new, and Barry liked the expression on him, if he were to be honest.

"Way to go for making this awkward, dude." Nate cleared his throat and held out the items again. "What I was going to suggest is this thing they taught me in college. The blindfold and the headphones are to deprive you of your most used senses except touch. The rope to tie you in place so there's nothing left but to give yourself over. And then a massage - a perfectly platonic bro-massage!" Nate spluttered at the look Barry gave him. "Stop making this weird!"

"I'm not the one explaining I want to tie a guy up and massage him, Nate."

"This is about you, not me!"

Barry raised an eyebrow, but decided he should probably just go along with it. Whatever would make Nate feel better, and get this over with. At least he would be occupied for a while, and maybe he might even be able to stop worrying for a bit.

"Okay. Do your worst." Barry held out his hands like he was ready to be cuffed - just to push Nate a little further, admittedly - and Nate made a somewhat choked noise.

"Best. Do my best. Shit, man." Still, he pushed Barry's shoulder to make him turn around and slid the blindfold over his eyes first. "That good? Then take off your clothes next, or I can't massage anything."

"Very platonic," Barry agreed, but still unbuttoned his shirt and then his pants blindly, shucking both on the floor after toeing off his sneakers. Nate's touch to his shoulder was a lot lighter now it was naked, and Barry had to hold back from openly grinning as he let himself be laid down on the bed.

"Okay, I'll put on the headphones now, so we won't be able to talk anymore. Just let me tie your wrists and ankles down and relax, okay?"

"Absolutely."

Barry lay down on his front as soon as the headphones were on, making sure to adjust them to cover his ears properly with the angle of his head on the pillow. Then he spread out his limbs for Nate to have his way - which, he had to admit, was done pretty fast and efficiently. He couldn't hear or see a thing anymore, just like intended, so he really was left to Nate's mercy now.

Maybe they should've set a safe word… but Nate insisted this wasn't sexual. And even if saying 'no' or 'stop' would somehow not work - which he doubted - Barry could easily vibrate out of this rope anytime, so there wasn't much to worry about.

Barry would blame the fact that he himself couldn't hear anything happening that he let out such a loud moan when Nate's warm hands pressed oily against his shoulders. Maybe it only sounded this loud because of the headphones and Barry could only hear what was in his own head, but he sounded obnoxious to himself. Considering the hesitation in Nate's hands, it was loud enough for him to hear, for sure.

Still, Nate braved on, his hands starting to massage Barry's back properly. Barry hadn't realised how much he needed a massage until now, but the feeling of Nate working out the tension in his muscles was sublime. With all his senses gone but the warmth of those hands, it was easy to forget everything. It was easy to let go.

It was easy to moan and not care.

It was easy to seduce without even trying.

 

In the end there was nothing platonic about their bro-massage, but Barry would be the last one to complain. Nate had been completely right about him needing to relax, and hot kinky sex was apparently the way to go.

Plus, he could now smirk at people about the steel dick. Platonically.

Chapter Text

The collar was snug.

It had always been. Not too tight in itself, but when Barry tried to move in a certain way, or if he was out of breath… then it was definitely on the tight side. It was so he would be constantly aware of the collar around his neck.

Eobard liked it that way, with Barry being aware of it. He did so in Eobard's future, when he took Harrison Wells' face, and he still did in his past, when he had nothing but Barry's first name and his subservience.

Barry loved it, even if it was regularly uncomfortable. Eobard liked to leash him, pulling him around by the collar while Barry had to follow on hands and knees. Eobard didn't dampen Barry's speed, but seeing as he was a speedster himself Barry could not cheat without Eobard noticing. And using his speed without specific instructions to do so invariably ended in punishment.

The thing was… that punishment wasn't really half bad. If anything, it was a guarantee that Barry could enjoy Eobard's full attention for a while.

Eobard loved spanking him, and Barry wouldn't deny he was a sucker for that. The sting and the burn followed by Eobard's obsession with petting and slapping Barry's red behind until it healed. Barry was usually still wearing his tail plug for the spanking, but when Eobard was so mesmerised by his arse it would more often that not end up being tugged, and tugged again, until it came out.

And when it came out - a slick pop that made Barry tense up with anticipation - that was when the real fun began.

You see, the collar was snug, just on the tight side. But Eobard's hand was like a vice.

Eobard had Barry practically folded double on the large dog bed that Barry had gotten to curl up in when he moved in with Eobard. His shoulders were pressed down in the soft bottom, his throat lifted by the edge and his head dropped back on the rug behind it, an angle that already made Barry's breath uncomfortably shallow because of the collar. His arse was up so Eobard could fuck into him, hard. It was difficult to breathe and Barry felt light-headed, but he was whimpering and whining for more regardless.

There was something particularly delicious about how dishevelled Eobard looked at this point. A red sweaty face, scrunched up with concentration and lust as he pounded Barry into his dog bed. His moans and grunts were deep like when he had been - would be? - Wells and Barry wanted more, more of it.

More came with Eobard dropping forward, now purely held up by the back of Barry's thighs, and grabbed Barry's neck in one hand. He squeezed, and Barry wheezed helplessly. Barry jolted slightly, his body protesting against the abuse, but at the same time he made sure to flick his eyes up at Eobard to meet his hungry stare with an equally hungry one of his own.

They were ready to devour each other at any given time.

"Moan for me, Barry," Eobard commanded, panting heavily in time with each hard thrust of his hips.

Barry tried, but it came out nearly soundless, choked as he was by Eobard's hand. His face had been burning from exertion and the position already - not to mention the collar, fuck the collar - but now he felt like his head was bloating like a balloon with his need for air.

Eobard knew. Eobard knew exactly how far to push, how long to squeeze.

The air whistled sharply between Barry's teeth when he was allowed to take a breath. Still obstructed by the collar, but it felt like freedom after that tight hold of Eobard's hand. The whole folded position and the bump of the dog bed's edge in his neck were positively pleasant all of a sudden, all of it put in a stark perspective with the desperate need for air.

It wasn't enough anymore.

Eobard's hand was back around his neck, pressing harder now. Had they not been Barry and Eobard, Flash and Reverse-Flash, Barry might've worried about Eobard pressing too hard and collapsing his larynx. He'd seen some very worrying deaths in his time as a CSI that were achieved just like this: through kinky but not entirely safe sex. But even if Eobard would - which he wouldn't, and Barry trusted him without a doubt - he would realise his mistake immediately and he would know what to do to let Barry's accelerated healing save his life. Even if Eobard lost control, he would still save Barry. So Barry couldn't doubt him, would never doubt him.

Not this Eobard, anyway.

Barry's whole body felt suffocated now, Eobard skillfully playing him like a harp. He was still pounding into him like there was no tomorrow, like there was no limit to his stamina, and Barry wouldn't have been able to see straight anymore even if it wasn't for the squeeze of Eobard's hand around his throat.

"Moan for me," Eobard commanded again, knowing full well Barry couldn't. Barry would still try, and he would probably feel the vibration against the palm of his hand, but Barry wouldn't be able to get anything out but choked noises and soundless keens.

He was allowed to breathe once more, and he panted shallowly, tears running down his face with the intensity of it all. Eobard never paused, even if he allowed Barry short gasps of air in between. He simply counted five thrusts before clamping his hand down in place again.

Barry's cock was leaking all over his own chest, as dark red and desperate as his face was. His need to cum was almost as intense as his need for air, but he wasn't going to get both at the same time. There was always a wait, a torturous pause between the two that would convince Barry that this time he'd really pass out. This time Eobard would push him too far.

"Cum."

A single word, rough and almost as desperate as Barry felt himself, and Barry obeyed a second later. He cried soundlessly in release and in his need for air, eyes rolling up in his head while the cum splattered over his chest. He felt euphoric, and even Eobard's deep harsh thrusts against his prostate coming to a halt for Eobard's own orgasm couldn't disappoint him.

This time, Eobard would cut his air off for too long. This time he would pass out for a lack of oxygen .

The air sucked in like a tornado wind when all of a sudden the grip on his throat was released. The collar was unclasped with clumsy but fast fingers - just for this, only in the aftercare was Barry ever without a collar - and the back of Barry's head was cupped and lifted so his neck could rest in a more comfortable angle as he wheezed and wept for air.

Eobard pulled out of him and moved aside, carefully letting Barry unfold and lowering his legs to the floor for him. Barry felt like a metal wire that didn't want to unroll, his body resisting being stretched out again, but Eobard was relentless as always in pulling him back to being human.

Finally he was pulled up to a sitting position, immediately pulled into an intimate embrace by his lover, and then lifted up against Eobard's chest. He was carried over to Eobard's bed and they stretched out on it together, both trembling and panting and dirty, but both craving the contact and the relaxation more than anything now.

Barry shivered when he was given a kiss on the lips, and he tried to give a soft little moan, but he was too hoarse to make the sound.

"We'll get you something to eat and a whole lot of honeyed tea after we catch our breaths," Eobard promised, pulling Barry in close against him. Possessively. Just like Harrison Wells had been.

Barry sighed in relief and mutely nodded his head against Eobard's shoulder.

Barry really loved the collar that let him be Eobard's pet. He already missed it again now.

Chapter Text

Barry had no idea where those two had come from, why they were here or most importantly how they got here, but he knew it sure felt like Christmas had come early.

Dr. Wells didn't seem to share his eagerness, by the frown on his face, but neither was… one of the other two.

"You're that-"

"Do not say it." Dr. Wells had interrupted the man with his face before he got a third word in, and now they were openly glaring at each other. "You do not belong here, and I will not appreciate you messing things up for us with careless words."

"You wouldn't appreciate it." The man sneered. "But Barry here might."

"I'm willing to appreciate anything if it involves all of you," Barry blurted out, hoping to lighten the mood. He had been less than subtle about his crush on Dr. Wells for months now, but Wells was always very clear about refusing a relationship with Barry. He was happy to kiss Barry and pretended to be generous enough for sex (Barry didn't buy it, Wells was totally loving it when Barry rode his cock), but he insisted that they could not be together romantically. That Barry would be with someone else.

If he was going to get his feelings stepped on every day after cajoling a kiss or sex out of Wells, he might as well try to enjoy it when there were three of them.

"Good! B.A., always here to remind us to share the love." The third Wells sounded way too cheerful to be the same person as Dr. Wells, but at the same time he sounded and moved just like him as he quickly stepped between the two glaring men. He clapped his hands on both of their shoulders, giving them a hearty, encouraging squeeze. "Now Harry here - we call him Harry, and I go by H.R., makes it easier with all the same faces right? - was just trying to explain me his fantastic trans-dimensional canon here-"

"Trans-dimensional blaster," Harry corrected grumpily, but he was ignored.

"-and me- ah, fool me - just wanted to touch, you see? If I need to use it I'll need to learn how to handle it, am I right?"

"And you didn't only blow it up in our faces, you failed to even make us jump universes," Harry grit out, clearly an even less cheerful type than Dr. Wells. "Instead you sent us back-"

"Right there-! Is where you stop." Dr. Wells was back at glaring daggers - and Harry returned it as good as he got - clearly not happy with whatever Harry was trying to divulge.

"So…" Barry hesitated, looking at H.R. because he seemed most likely to answer his questions. "You're saying you two are…?"

"Doppelgängers."

Both Harry and H.R. stated it with such finality, even Dr. Wells seemed pleased about it.

"So both of you are Dr. Wells, but you're not actually the same person as, y'know, this Dr. Wells?"

"Exactly." Harry was looking oddly relieved with that conclusion.

"Sooo… I wouldn't be cheating on anyone if I tried to, y'know?" He gave Dr. Wells his most fake innocent look to bait him. He wouldn't be cheating on anyone because Dr. Wells refused to be in a relationship with him, but that didn't mean he couldn't hint at it to see if he could get another of the three to fuck him. Go big or go home, right?

And yet, Dr. Wells was very quick to grab his wrist and tugging him a little closer to the wheelchair.

There was a pregnant moment of silence between the three before the most wicked smile appeared on H.R.'s face. "Oh no, you wouldn't be cheating on anyone. In fact, where Harry and I are from - most recently are from - our Barry likes to use the exact same argument." Harry was looking doubtful, but H.R. quickly nudged him with an elbow. "We haven't had the chance to do anything together, though."

"Together?" Barry imagined his eyes were twinkling. "Like, both of you at once?"

Dr. Wells tugged his wrist a little harder, but he had thrown away his rights for jealousy when he turned Barry's feelings down. Barry was going to milk this.

H.R. was forward enough to actually step close and cup Barry's jaw with one hand, trailing a thumb over his bottom lip and pulling it down ever so slightly with a hungry look. "Well, I for one wouldn't mind seeing if your lips are as talented as the Barry I know."

Barry could feel Dr. Wells was about to protest, was readying himself to make a comment that would end this, so he did the first thing that came to mind to salvage the delicious situation. Barry all but flung himself forward to meet H.R.'s lips with his own. H.R. didn't miss a beat, framing his face with both hands to keep him close and kissing him hungrily, like he had been waiting for this all along.

The grip of Dr. Wells' hand on Barry's wrist was painfully tight now, but he was going to ignore it for the sake of H.R.'s mouth. At least until Dr. Wells was going to give him something too.

 

It escalated surprisingly quickly from there, even for Barry. H.R. was as eager to push this small orgy as Barry was, and neither Dr. Wells nor Harry were willing to clear the field before the other was - they were glaring at each other more than they were looking at Barry offering himself up, and Barry was wondering if maybe they should be getting some time alone instead.

But with neither leaving and Dr. Wells being particularly possessive for someone who didn't want a relationship, Barry had ended up sitting on Well's lap to ride his cock while sucking H.R.'s over Wells' shoulder. Harry had stretched Barry further none too gently and pushed himself between Well's unmoving legs to jam his way into Barry's arse as well, and he might've complained with how rough Harry was being if he didn't love it so much. Dr. Wells was never this rough with him for a lack of the ability, but it was always how he imagined Dr. Wells to be, with the way he spoke to him.

Funnily enough, H.R. was all sweet words and encouragement. He was pressing deep into Barry's throat but cooing at him how proud he was of Barry for not choking. Barry only choked when Harry gave a particularly harsh thrust up and he was jolted higher and with that H.R.'s cock deeper. And when that happened, H.R. was immediately giving him a break from the deep-throating, massaging his scalp with his fingertips and soothingly whispering sweet nothings.

Dr. Wells meanwhile had a hard grip on Barry's hips, forcing him to ride him and Harry as hard as he could with the little leverage he had. It was nearly impossible, but he strained to do it anyway, eager to please his mentor.

Eager to please the one who was giving him compliments for it.

Eager to please the one so competitive with the man he'd been crushing on for so long now.

He was filled to the brim from all sides - he might've suggested another cock in his arse if only another body had fit in the fray, but two were still pretty damn good and more than he would get from Wells normally.

He was full and happy and it was perfect.

He was crying with his release when he tasted the salty, sticky cum of H.R. on his tongue. His orgasm milked Dr. Wells and Harry more successfully than anything else, and soon he was filled with both of their loads deep inside him. Perfect and hot and everything he could've wanted.

His only regret was going to be H.R. and Harry leaving again.

Until then, he hoped he could seduce at least one more round from the older men.

Chapter Text

"Hello Barry."

Barry turned, surprised by the voice addressing him.

Lisa Snart. Even though he knew she was involved with Cisco, he hadn't expected her to just show up here at S.T.A.R. Labs and talk to him.

Then again, she didn't know he was the Flash, so talking to him specifically wasn't that odd. Just… regularly odd.

"Y-yes?"

"You're Cisco's bestie, aren't you?"

"I- well, I mean, I guess?" Why? What for? Will this be gossip?

"Good! I need your help; with Cisco!" She grabbed his wrist and was already dragging him out of the Cortex before he could make up a proper response.

"Is he in trouble?" She wasn't acting like Cisco was, but it was still weird. Everything about this was weird. Particularly the way she shoved him in an abandoned meeting room down the hall, rather than taking him to Cisco's workshop, and proceeded to crowd him up against the dusty table.

"You know Cisco and I are together, right?"

"Of course!" Stupid question. Confusing question. Lisa was standing too close.

Standing to close and touching, first resting a palm on his collarbone and then sliding it down until it lay suggestively over one of his pecs - like she was groping breasts, really.

"And you realise what a glutton he is for punishment? How much he loves to submit to a mistress - to me - and be played with like a toy?"

"Whoa!" Barry all but scrambled back onto the table, in a hurry to get away from that hot, suggestive hand on his chest. "TMI! I did not need to know that, oh my god Lisa!"

Lisa giggled, but her smirk was downright villainous. "Of course you needed to know that! I'm here to proposition you, after all."

"You- what!?"

"Cisco has the most terrible oral fixation and I told him that if he didn't stop his habit of ruining his teeth with candy all day I was going to find something else for in his mouth. Your dick is my first choice."

Barry gaped. There wasn't really a good response to that, was there? When your best friend's girlfriend propositioned you, but only for your best friend to suck you off. It was just…

"Is this normal for you Rogues?"

"Not all of them." She gave him a very obvious once-over. "But I'm not asking them. I'm asking you."

"W-why me?"

"Because I had Cisco list the people he was willing to have sex with, and you are on it. Seeing as this is the first time I'm inviting anyone extra in, I wanted to pick the person from the list he trusts the most. That's you, Barry Bestie."

Barry cringed at the nickname, but her explanation calmed him a lot. He reasoning was pretty solid; if Cisco consented to this and to Barry being brought in, it made sense to start with a trusted friend and not a stranger.

"O-okay. Fine. I'll do it."

"Good." She clapped her hands excitedly before leaning over to grab his wrist, dragging him down from the table and out of the room. Barry stumbled nervously but let her drag him to his impending doom.

This was faster than expected… but at least he couldn't chicken out now.

They found Cisco in his workshop, as expected. Cisco dropped the liquorice string he'd been eating like it burned him at the look on Lisa's face, but Lisa walked right past him to drag Barry up to a chair in the back, all but planting him on it.

"Cisco! Come here, down on your knees. I warned you about what would happen if you didn't stop."

Cisco visibly paled while approaching, and then his face flooded with a dark flush.

"For real? You brought Barry here for this?"

"What, you'd rather I brought you a pacifier?"

That shut him up immediately, and he was down on his knees in front of Lisa in under a second. Clearly embarrassed too, but so was Barry.

"Not for me. For him." Lisa pointed at Barry. "You want candy to suck on? You can suck his cock for a while, and maybe I won't punish you further tonight."

"I- but-" Cisco stuttered helplessly, and Barry almost felt guilty for his own satisfaction at seeing Cisco blush even darker.

But Lisa cocked an eyebrow expectantly to shut Cisco up, and he awkwardly shuffled to Barry on the chair on his knees. His hands hesitated over Barry crotch - hey, Barry couldn't help he was getting hard from this? Lisa was pretty hot in her easy dominance and he was being promised a blowjob - but eventually Cisco seemed to push through his reluctance and opened Barry's fly. He was shaking a little while pushing a cold hand into Barry's underwear to fish his hardening cock out.

Barry hissed and recoiled at the cold hand and they momentarily glared at each other before Cisco proceeded.

"Good boy," Lisa praised, voice dropping to something sultry that had Barry's hips hitch up into Cisco's hesitant hand.

His grip on Barry's cock was weak and the eyes he was making were almost scared. Barry figured this was Cisco's first experience with another man's cock in his hand at all, let alone his mouth.

"Come on now," Lisa urged, and with a last reluctant gulp Cisco leaned forward and put his lips against the tip of Barry's cock. Like a kiss, but unmoving.

Entirely unmoving, too nervous, clearly.

Barry held his breath, waiting for Cisco to move, to either lick or take him into his mouth or anything but sitting there with his lips against the tip.

Once again it was Lisa who had to urge him further.

"Cisco." Her voice threatening now, startling Cisco from whatever had him freeze up like that. And finally, finally, he leaned further forward and let Barry's cock slide between his lips. Barry relaxed with a relieved sigh at the wet heat - it had been far too long for him, with the Flash business being in the way all the time - and leaned back in the chair.

"Looks like this is going to take a while," Lisa remarked testily. "He always likes to suckle on his treats for far too long, so I should've seen it coming."

"If it's any consolation, I don't typically last very long," Barry supplied embarrassedly. "But I don't have much of a refractory period either, so it's all in your hands how long this takes, Lisa."

He regretted telling her as soon as he saw the smirk blooming on her face. Like a Cheshire cat. Like a Snart.

"Oh, that sounds like fun." She nudged Cisco with a foot and then leaned over to Barry to whisper in his ear. "Then we'll definitely be here for a while."

Chapter Text

Barry had a distinct love-hate relationship with the edging bar.

It was a long and narrow wooden beam with butt plugs attached evenly over the length of it. On one end was a very tiny one, the tiniest Barry had ever seen and made him always worry he was going to end up stabbing himself with it. From there they increased in size, up to the plug on the other end that was so huge Barry seriously doubted he would ever be able to fit it at all.

But the bar itself wasn't the problem. If anything, it seemed a pretty ingenuous tool of H.R. to make Barry take care of his own stretching without much room to be disobedient. The problem was that H.R. would sit in a comfortable recliner on the large end of the bar, and Barry had to make his way over to him. And not just hop from one plug to the next either; no, he had to pause on each plug and edge for two minutes before moving to the next.

The goal was to reach H.R. without cumming. The intent was to teach him some control - control he had completely lost after getting hit by lightning. In their first sexual encounter H.R. had found out very quickly that Barry blew his load faster than an overexcited teenager on his first sexual experience with a hot prostitute. And that just really wouldn't do.

The edging bar had already resulted in a lot of progress on that matter, but even so Barry had never really gotten any further than halfway before losing control and cumming without permission. And H.R. was such a kind dom, punishing him for his transgression and still praising him for his progress, always so proud of Barry even when he failed again and again and again.

It was good for Barry to learn restraint, and the edging bar was a very pleasurable experience despite the torture of it, but man did he hate it.

H.R. was currently comfortable in his chair, and Barry had already made his way up four plugs. Eight minutes of edging himself was… really long for Barry, ever since the Speed Force. Reaching the end of the bar would bring him to half an hour, which was currently unimaginable.

His hands were trembling, one stroking his straining cock, the other slicking up the next plug. The next one would actually stretch him, the previous ones still small enough for him to easily accommodate without his muscles caring. Barry was craving it by now, and he was always happy to get this far. He certainly hadn't on his first few tries.

"Come closer," H.R. instructed, a warm inflection to his voice as he reset his timer. Barry pushed himself up from the the plug, knees knocking against the bar as he shuffled forward to slowly ease down on the next. The click of the timer was loud in Barry's ears, and he breathed in sharply as his reprieve from the edging was over.

Two minutes. He could do this.

His hand was too hot on his cock, his need to thrust into it and stroke harder overwhelming. He felt ready to burst - but that was partially the point. He forced himself to open his hand to the lightest touch he could manage, more teasing his cock than stroking it to keep that orgasm at bay. H.R. was making encouraging sounds at him for that choice, but it was hard to focus.

Barry's cock was leaking slow but steadily on the bar as he teased himself, light touches, slow strokes. Add lube to the next plug and stroke it in time to keep control.

He could do it.

"Come closer."

The click of the timer; a deep, shuddering breath making its way between Barry's lips. Closer, to a bigger plug. Move. Move.

He lifted himself and shuffled forward, keening softly at the mild stretch of the larger plug. Finally it was giving him some stimulation to his prostate without Barry needing to angle just right and hump the bar like a dog in heat. It was a blessing and a curse both at once.

This time he only curled a thumb and pointer finger around his cock, to keep the stimulation to a minimum as he stroked himself. Even so every stroke seemed to squeeze out a little more precum, and every touch made him feel headier and closer. He wasn't going to make it, but he was only at the… fifth plug? Sixth? Barry didn't remember and could not concentrate on the plugs ahead of him to count what remained. He was close, so close, and H.R. would be so disappointed in him.

Barry sniffled, biting his lip hard in a desperate attempt to keep himself in check. He dropped his head back, arching and trying to shift so the plug would not press against his prostate anymore, even if he knew it was pointless.

"Come closer."

Barry all but sobbed in relief for having made it, shakily pushing off the plug to move to the next. Bigger, always bigger. All of them shaped perfectly to press against his prostate.

He was leaving a wet trail all over the bar from precum and lube, but it didn't particularly matter as long as he hadn't reached H.R. yet. The amount he still had to go was dizzying and he knew for a fact that there was no way he'd succeed tonight. He just had to get as far as possible and make H.R. proud for breaking his last record.

Would he? Could he? How far did he come last time?

He tried to focus on that question, tried to shift on the plug for the feeling of it and try recount where he'd been on the bar before. He couldn't figure it out, but it did help him with keeping on edging without pushing over, the distraction helping a lot.

"Come closer."

H.R. was definitely proud of him, considering the pleased lilt in his voice. Barry shivered in excitement at his master's pride. Still so far until the end, but he had come a long way regardless.

But the next plug was so thick, stretching him open to that first line of pleasure-pain. He loved being stretched this far - it was like being fucked by his master - and that was the true danger.

Before he realised it, he was crying out and cumming. He spilled all over the bar, weakly shaking and thrusting his hips over the plug, momentarily caught in the pleasure and forgetting about his goal to hold out.

But it soon caught up with him. He froze in realisation, eyes wide and guilty as he looked up to see H.R. frowning. But his master's face softened to a smile immediately, and Barry was beckoned over.

"You came so far today, sweetpea, I'm so proud. Just come over here for your punishment and then I'll pamper you the rest of the night because of how far you came."

Barry felt stiff and aching while pushing himself up and off the plug, carefully lifting a leg over the bar so he was no longer straddling it. Then he waddled over to his master as quick as he could, eager to get the punishment over with and get to the sweetness that would come after.

He bent over H.R.'s lap without prompting, wiggling to get as comfortable as he could get draped over the man's lap in the recliner, and tried not to tense up when H.R.'s hand came down to rest over his butt.

"I'm really proud of how far you got, but you still failed to complete the edging bar," H.R. said calmly. "You had sixteen minutes of edging left to do, so you will get spanked for sixteen minutes instead."

Barry nodded, knowing the drill well. H.R.'s hand lifted away and the click of the timer sounded before it was put down on the small of Barry's back. Then the punishment started, and Barry knew he would be feeling it for the rest of the evening.

Next time he would do better.

One day he'd make it to the end of the edging bar.

He really loved and hated that thing.

Chapter Text

There were really a whole lot more Rogues to Captain Cold's gang than Barry had anticipated when they agreed on this.

He gave Snart an accusing look - because Snart knew there were so many and didn't warn him, and how was Snart even recruiting all these people with the CCPD and the Flash having no idea about it? - but all he got in return was a very smug smirk.

"You aren't getting cold feet now, are ya Scarlet? You got all my men all hyped up for this."

"Yeah, no kidding."

All the Rogues were gathered, but Lisa and Shawna were seated notably away from the group. They wouldn't be part of this, and yet they were here. Barry swallowed heavily at the realisation that they came to watch, and he had to force down the shame at the arousal that thought brought.

Rosa Dillon was gathered with the men, ready to play, but Barry did remember from her medical details in the police reports that she was perfectly capable of joining in. He supposed he was currently the last person who got to question what she was comfortable with showing and what not, considering what he was here for.

"Well, come on, off with the mask!" Mark Mardon practically hooted, and Barry gave him a glare for his trouble.

"Sorry gentlemen, cowl stays on." Snart was quick to correct him. "Remember the rules and play nice."

"I got dibs on going first." Barry shuddered at Mick's rough tone. But then again, that was how he always sounded right? God, that better be true.

With a nudge from Snart's hand, Barry awkwardly made it over to the bed. His hands were trembling nervously as he undid the buttons of the suit's lower half, wriggling a bit to untuck it from underneath the tight jacket without having to take it off. He took a last deep breath to steel himself and then dropped the pants, enduring the wolf-whistling at the revelation of a red jockstrap.

"Say what you want, but the Flash's got style." Barry shuddered under the touch of Sam Scudder's hand, fingers trailing one of the straps over his arse.

"Hands off. He's mine first."

Sam was quick to make place for Mick, who gave Barry an unceremonious shove forward to topple him over onto the bed. Barry yelped in surprise - this was the most humiliating part - and again when Mick dragged his arse back and up so Barry was forced to his knees. His behind received a hard smack and then his cheeks were spread roughly, strong fingers digging into flesh. Mick spit on his hole before rubbing a finger over it, and there was a dirty chuckle when the finger slid in easily.

Yes, of course Barry had come prepared. He wasn't expecting the courtesy of preparation from the Rogues.

"The little sissy is all ready and wet for us," Mick sounded too smug, and Barry had to bite his lip not to moan in arousal at the humiliation.

Yeah, Barry didn't regret coming here. This was giving him exactly what he was hoping for, so far. As long as Captain Cold would keep his side of the bargain and make sure none of these Rogues would actually try harm him while he let himself be vulnerable for their pleasure, all would be perfect.

But nothing in that arrangement said anything about the Rogues not being allowed to be rough (not that Barry didn't want them to be).

He cried out when Mick jammed his cock up Barry's arse in one harsh thrust, and he shuddered under the humiliation of the laughter behind them. He had prepared himself yes, but Barry had to do a lot of stretching to not have it all healed up by the time he got here, and he was clearly no longer stretched enough to take someone Mick's size comfortably in one go. It hurt. But at the same time it was amazing. It was rough and full and dizzyingly good.

"Fuck, that's one tight man-pussy."

"I could stand you toning it down on the gendered slurs, Mick," Rosa sounded snippily behind them, but Mick just laughed and gave another hard thrust.

"Red isn't a tranny though, is he? He's just a little sissy whore."

"Mick." There was a definite warning in Snart's voice, but the grunt from Mick showed he accepted it.

"Fine. Now stop ruining my fun and wait for your turn."

There were definitive sounds of discontent and urgings for Mick to just hurry up already, but Mick ignored them so Barry would do so as well. He tried to make himself as comfortable as he could but Mick was nothing close to gentle and Barry had to hold on to not just be drilled down into the bed all the time.

Hard and fast. Just how he liked it, really.

Mick did take a while, but he was the first, so it was to be expected. When Barry dared a glance around he saw that the rest of the Rogues already had their pants open to stroke their erection in preparation, so they would surely be fast. Especially Axel… Barry didn't expect him to last long, with that excited look on his face.

Barry braced himself when Mick's thrusts grew even sharper, his fingers digging into the bedsheets under him, and he tried to stay silent when Mick's grunts went to a deep pleasured groan. But it was hard to not moan and whimper when a man like that was filling you up with a thick load, the first of many to come tonight.

"He really likes it." Barry's breath hitched in surprise at the closeness of the voice, head shooting up to meet Hartley's eyes only inches away. Hartley smirked at him, and while Mick pulled back he used the momentary freedom in Barry's movements to pull his upper body up to make him rest on his elbows. Barry was not expecting the kiss, but he was definitely welcoming it.

He moaned in need, pressing harder against Hartley's lips. The distraction meant he was taken completely off guard by the next man lining up and pushing into his hole.

"Fuck, he's still tight even after that." Digger Harkness whistled in appreciation, landing a sharp smack on Barry's arse much like Mick had done. "So glad we have gotten the chance to ride the Flash' arse like this."

"Funny, seeing you're not the one who's going to end with a sloppy hole full of spunk by the time he gets his turn." Bivolo sounded bitter and Barry took particular pleasure in that.

"Nothing wrong with a sloppy hole." Kyle Nimbus was all but purring. "Just means he'll be nice and slick and all warmed up."

"Ew, Kyle. Ew." Rosa was clearly not impressed, but Barry would have to agree with Kyle on this. That's exactly what he came here for, after all.

To be used and filled until he was just a filthy cumdump for the Rogues.

And who knows, if he was lucky? This might become a more regular thing.

Barry arched his back and let out a pleased sound when Harkness came deep inside of him with a loud grunt.

He sure hoped it would be .

Chapter Text

It wasn't entirely intentional. Barry had just made the mistake of speeding too fast, too unplanned, to this spot he knew he would find the Legends on this day. It was a spur of the moment decision, and his clothes were… well, this was not his friction-proof suit. These were light cotton and apparently more flammable than Barry had anticipated.

Both his shirt and his pants had caught fire, so he made sure to lose them before setting anything valuable on fire on the Waverider. Thing was, that this left him in a red lace G-string and white thigh high socks with red ruffles on the hem, and that was hardly an appropriate outfit to show yourself in anywhere with people. So he found himself the first room with clothes in it, and got his hands on this long trench coat that would make him look at least sort of decent.

Again, though, he had not anticipated.

When he showed up among the Legends they all went saucer-eyed at him in the trench coat, as if it was something particularly shocking to see. They still responded to him alright, told him what he needed to know and promised him what he needed them to promise, but Sara was the only one who had schooled her expression from wide-eyed shock to something resembling professional.

Or it could be hunger. It might actually be hunger.

"No offence, mate, but could we have a chat before you leave again?"

"Uh, sure?" Barry shot Sara a last worried look but she didn't offer anything helpful, so he simply opted to follow this John Constantine fellow back through the corridors of the Waverider. He knew John was their latest recruit, and he heard Oliver mention him as a magic sorta guy. Like Damien Darhk, he supposed. Barry could imagine his use to the Legends, considering what he heard about the whole Spear of Destiny adventure.

"So you're a, uh, warlock, I think they said?"

"That's right, mate." John stopped in front of the room Barry had raided for the trench coat earlier and gestured for him to enter. This was the point Barry where started to worry, because John was still wearing some last century fashion suit and maybe, just maybe, Barry might've made a mistake pilfering this particular trench coat.

"Sooo you do magic? Like what that Damien Darhk guy did, with telekinesis and sucking the life out of people?"

"Oh no, no not that." John laughed, and that was at least a relief even if he pointedly closed the doorway behind him to lock them together in the bedroom. "I'm more of a specialist with spirits and demons. I dabble in the dark arts but I do nothing like that whole idol powered murdery stuff." John waved a dismissive hand while approaching Barry, and Barry tried to back up as subtly as he could.

"But I'd really rather talk about you right now, what'd you say? We haven't met before, have we?" John offered a hand - a formal introduction. "John Constantine, at your service - as it is, at least."

"Yeah, uh, Barry Allen." Barry shook John's hand uncomfortably. He hadn't meant to share his name yet, but he felt somehow compelled to be honest with this guy. He was one of the Legends, and if Sara trusted him, Barry supposed he should trust him too.

"Barry Allen, huh? So you are the Flash." John nodded and grinned at him while giving a firm handshake. "So what brings you to the Waverider and makes you wear my coat."

Barry nearly choked on himself.

"This- this is your coat? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to steal it or anything! I just came here at a rather last-minute decision and I didn't take the time to change before running here, so my clothes sort of caught fire and I snuck into the first room I found to get some clothes and be decent. I swear I had no bad intentions I just didn't want to show up half naked in front of people I respect, and-"

Barry cut off his rambling sharply when John put a hand on his shoulder, the man's smirk equal parts sexy and infuriating.

"Don't worry, lad, no offence taken. Actually I rather enjoy the sight of you like this. Makes me wonder what's underneath my coat, 'n all."

Barry flushed, suddenly extremely aware of his state of undress underneath the coat.

"I-I mean, I'm not decent underneath, or I wouldn't have grabbed the coat in the first place."

"Exactly."

John was still approaching, and Barry reached the wall. He pressed back against it, breath coming in short excited huffs while eyeing the man and the hungry look in his eyes. John was… hot, looking like that. Another thing Barry had not anticipated.

"Why don't you show me?" John Constantine purred, and Barry shivered under the caress of that voice. He had no power to resist that. It was stronger than him.

Barry reached up with trembling hands to undo the coat, slowly revealing inch after inch of bare skin until the edge of the lace thong was reached. John's breath audibly hitched at the revelation, but Barry braved on, showing the bare skin of his upper thighs followed by the red ruffles and then the white cotton of the thigh highs. The coat fell open, leaving Barry exposed, embarrassed and aroused.

"Now that's a sight for sore eyes, luv."

"That's why I covered up," Barry supplied breathlessly. But he didn't resist when hands found the bare skin of his upper thighs, hot skin on skin and even hotter breath against his throat with John's sudden proximity.

"Pretty sure it's a sin to cover this view."

"I-is it now?"

"I do believe it is."

"W-well… I apologise then… it won't happen again."

Two warm hands cupped the back of his thighs, right under his buttocks, lifting just slightly and pulling him closer. Their lips were inches apart and Barry hardly dared to breathe,

"Good. I'd hate to see a good boy like you go to waste."

And then their lips were pressed together, and John tasted like nicotine and whiskey and all other thought fled Barry's mind. This wasn't what he had come here for, but who was he to deny it?

Who was Barry to deny John Constantine?

Chapter Text

Barry had learned long ago that pain was necessary for the release he needed. He didn't enjoy the pain, nor the lasting ache - he was definitely glad that the healing factor of being a speedster made that lasting ache disappear in hours instead of days - but it brought him down in subspace and that he enjoyed.

The pain was a means to an end.

When he found Leonard Snart and Mick Rory in the club he frequented to find partners to give him such a beating, he was instantly sold. If anyone could cane or whip his arse hard enough for a quick descent into subspace, it would be one of them.

Or the two of them, as it turned out. Snart kindly told him they were a package deal.

"I want to be caned," he blurted as soon as they had retreated to one of the playrooms in the back of the club. It was embarrassing to be so direct about it, but if he had learned anything here it was that clear communication was important. He did not want a repeat of that time he was whipped until he bled because he hadn't been clear about what he wanted. The subdrop after that had been a nightmare, and it had not been easy to explain to Caitlin what had happened when she invariably found out he had been hurt. "But only on my arse," he quickly added - another mistake from before.

"I see." Snart was eyeing him like a piece of candy, but Rory was already wandering to the wall with the implements available for play, courtesy the club. There were several canes there, and Barry knew they were regularly exchanged - to avoid contamination with blood, or when someone broke a cane again. Barry just hoped Snart and Rory wouldn't take it that far, because it really upset the club owners.

The swoosh of a cane through the air - Rory testing them? - made Barry tense up in anticipation, but he held Snart's gaze stubbornly.

"And what is your goal, if I may ask?" Snart was practically purring, but still keeping a respectful distance while they spoke.

"I just want to sink deep into subspace." Barry shrugged awkwardly. "As long you get me there, you can do what you want."

Snart tutted and Rory gave a displeased grunt, and next thing he knew the large criminal was pressed against Barry's back; hard, hot chest against slightly shivering narrow back. Rory held the cane out in front of Barry, framing him with both arms and effectively trapping him while Snart inspected the cane.

"We do not like the way you say that, Barry." Snart drawled Barry's name as if he was still tasting it on his tongue for the first time. "Every sub has his limits, and we would like to know them up front."

Barry shrugged again, this time even more awkward, a bit nervous. "I heal fast."

That earned him a sharp look and Rory tensing behind him. Those thick arms came a little closer, narrowing Barry's space of movement until it was almost a hug.

Getting hugged by Heatwave… not what Barry had expected when he left for the club to get caned earlier.

"Where do you usually draw your line, Barry?"

"I don't. You know, I'm more used to getting persuaded into letting go of my limits, not into setting them up. Most doms want to push my limits, so I thought you'd be happy getting free rein."

Snart and Rory shared a look over Barry's shoulder, and Barry bit his lip worriedly. Being difficult about his limits had made people leave instead of playing before, and he really liked the idea of Snart or Rory handling that cane tonight.

"So you always come into this club to pick up some lonely bloke to beat you into subspace." Rory didn't make it sound like a question, but more like a conclusion.

"I… yeah?"

"Pretty boy like you, no wonder the assholes jump you every time."

Where Rory was judgemental, Snart's voice softened to something warmer when he spoke. "Let's do it a little different tonight, shall we, Scarlet? I will cane you, and I promise to watch for your limits, and afterwards you decide if what we gave you was good or not enough."

Barry shrugged again, feeling like a kid getting scolded somehow. "Fine. You're the boss."

That remark had Rory tense again and Snart tsked dismissively. But that was weird, because wasn't that the point of Barry submitting? These guys were stranger than expected.

"Give us your safeword."

"Yellow."

"Yellow." Rory echoed after Snart in agreement, before Snart finally gave his first order. "Then strip, Scarlet. I want you naked and bent over the bench."

Finally.

Barry stripped hurriedly, dropping his clothes haphazardly on the floor and hurrying over to the bench. Placing his feet spread wide to be tied to the legs of the bench was a good call, seeing as Rory was already kneeling down to secure padded cuffs around his ankles, but he was surprised when not the same was done to his wrists.

Barry looked at Rory in confusion when he sat down cross-legged in front of the bench to face Barry, taking his hands in his own rather than trying to tie him up.

Barry was acutely aware of how large and hot Rory's hands were, and how intently he was watching, and how close and intimate this felt, even if Barry was bent over a spanking bench.

He glanced around nervously just to avoid Rory's eyes, spotting Snart rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt after he clearly lost his jacket.

"Let me hear your safeword once more before we start," Snart instructed, picking up the cane and resting it lightly against the swell of Barry's arse.

"Yellow," Barry answered dutifully. "Sir."

Rory smirked at the addition, and Barry hoped Snart was doing the same. Pleasing them now would work in his favour, for sure.

"We will start slow," Snart informed him calmly. "Don't try to escape Mick's grip."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

The first swat came without a warning, and even if it made Barry cringe a little when his brain caught up with the pain, it wasn't all that bad. In fact, the following swats were all light. Sharp, stinging, but hardly the bruising strength in them that Barry had expected.

He whimpered after the third or fourth, he wasn't really counting, and Rory - Mick squeezed his hands encouragingly. That was definitely weird, coming from the rough arsonist Barry knew, but when he met Mick's eyes he looked calm and anticipating rather than a sadist enjoying the show.

It was weird… it was really weird, but for some reason Barry found himself holding Mick's gaze while Snart - no, he was Len now, right? - kept a slow rhythm where Barry had time to let the pain of each swat sink in before giving the next. It hurt far less than the fast barrage he was used to, but it was strangely far more intense now.

Must be because of Mick.

Right?

Barry whimpered again, his throat starting to feel constricted like he was ready to start crying. Way sooner than usual. But Mick had him, and Len was painting his arse with red lines that were all placed with care and calculation rather than anger. It was intense and Barry had never felt safe like this during a scene.

"It's okay to cry, Red," Mick told him. There was a short pause in the caning and Barry watched Mick give Len a nod before he picked back up.

"Let it out." Len landed somewhat sharper swats with the cane now, and the first sob bubbled from Barry's lips before he could stop it. But he didn't feel ashamed of it, because of their reassurance. Because Mick didn't look like he was judging at all, he just squeezed Barry's hands and shifted just a little bit closer to the bench.

Barry drifted, and was only vaguely aware of it when tears started to roll down his cheeks for real. The caning hurt only a little, just on the pleasant side of pain, and yet Len and Mick had managed to draw him down into subspace already, with so little effort.

It was weird and disconcerting and magic, and the best experience Barry ever had in this club so far.

 

He already knew that he was going to tell Len that he liked their way better after all.

Chapter Text

The sensation of Lisa's latex clad fingertips sliding up his spine was one of the strangest feelings Barry had experienced so far. It was both a slick feeling as a friction refusing to glide, pulling his skin as her finger went.

She had done similar things with latex dildos before, but the fact that these were her fingers in a thin layer of latex made them warmer, even through the cool sensation of latex itself.

His shoulders shook with an intense shudder for a moment, and he groaned softly against the strain that put on them.

His wrists were cuffed securely above him, Lisa always making good use of her canopy bed in this safehouse. The chains left him kneeling on the pillows, facing the headboard, arms stretched above them to the edge of discomfort. Lisa had put a long spreader bar between his ankles, so he didn't have the option to move much even if he wanted to.

"The only downside to this position is that you have to look at the wall all the time." Lisa was leaning over him to purr into his ear. Barry made a muffled sound of agreement into his gag, straining to turn his head towards her.

"I know you'd much rather be looking at me. I dressed up for you and everything."

Oh, she had. She certainly had. Barry had practically been drooling at the sight of her glad in a skintight gold latex dress before she even put the ballgag in his mouth. But the dress was so perfect on her: gold was always perfect for Lisa, and the black lines perfectly emphasised her curves. The bottom hem ended right above her knees with large black ruffles to create a fishtail effect, making her hips seem even wider, and the shoulders were capped double over for a more impressive shoulder width.

Not that she needed the help to look more impressive of dominant, but it always complimented her style.

She was beautiful and golden and Barry wished he could watch her rather than the wall, so he made sure to voice that in muffle moans through his gag.

"I knew you would feel that way," Lisa purred, kneeling on the bed behind him and pressing herself against his back. His skin was sticky against the latex dress and he pressed back against her immediately for more, but she pushed harder to keep him in place. "That's why I had one of the men install this for me."

Barry's breath hitched in surprise when she opened the curtains in front of him that he had been sure were hiding the wall of the room. Instead they revealed a mirror to his wide eyes, and he was unexpectedly confronted with the sight of himself with a red ballgag opening his jaw wide and the drool on his chin because of it. He flushed red in embarrassment, eyes flickering back to Lisa who was smirking over his shoulder.

"Oh, don't give me the puppy eyes now, darling. We have barely even started."

She pulled away and climbed off the bed, leaving Barry whining softly for her and missing her warmth behind her even while he was eagerly anticipating what she would come up with next. Now he could follow her movements in the mirror, watch her hips outlined in shining gold as they swayed on each step. He could watch her suggestively bend over her bag on a chair, bending more than necessary just so he could watch the latex pulled taut over her butt.

It also meant he could see her coming with her gold gun, his eyes widening questioningly.

"So I tested the settings of this baby recently," she started conversationally, "and I realised that the lowest setting just leaves a thin layer of the acid gilding on the target. Skin gets red and over-sensitive underneath and the acidity burns, but the damage is almost benign. The guy I tried it on had a gold splotch on his face the rest of the day, a rash the next and then the skin was red for maybe a few more days before it was fully healed without any scarring. That means that you, my love, have absolutely nothing to fear from this setting, with your quick healing."

Barry shuddered when the cold metal of the gun dragged up over his calf, a featherlight trail up to his thigh and then drawing a line over the tops of his buttocks to go down the same way on the other leg.

"Won't you let me make you pretty, sweetie?" She was cooing playfully, but she was still asking. Barry always appreciated that about her.

He faltered for just a second before meeting her eyes through the mirror, and then he nodded quickly. It would be the strangest thing they'd done so far, but they had always been all about experimenting together. And he trusted her - this wasn't their first playtime and she had never given him any reason not to trust her.

"Good boy." She leaned over to give him a sound kiss on his cheek, leaving a bright red mark with her lipstick that Barry was now forced to keep seeing for the rest of their scene. Embarrassing and typical Lisa. "I will give you some nice gloves and thigh highs in gold, I think." The gun trailed over his inner thigh again, making him shiver. "Or maybe I'll just gild you completely. Give your golden arse a good paddling once I'm done."

He shuddered for entirely different reasons this time, whimpering needily at the thought.

"You like that, hm? You are such a dirty little boy, sweetheart. But don't worry, your mistress is going to give you everything you want tonight." She popped his arse hard with a flat hand, making him jump and yelp under the gag. "Tonight you are my golden boy."

Chapter Text

"Barry!"

"Hal! You're back!" Barry zipped over to open the window properly, before Hal would 'accidentally' break it again while trying to get in. He all but dragged Hal inside to hug him tight. "It's been like three weeks!"

"Yeah, I ran into some uh, setbacks." Hal was quick to kiss him - a welcome kiss quickly turning hot and passionate. If Barry would've doubted that Hal missed him as much as he missed Hal, then the eagerness to all but swallow Barry's tongue was all the proof he would need.

And yet, Barry had to pull back and ask.

"Setbacks? That's Hall speak for 'I charged head-long into trouble and got myself fucked over sideways', isn't it?"

Hal cringed at being called out. "It was an easy mission! I just forgot to charge my ring in time and then they knocked me out right as it ran out of juice- there was no way I could've seen that coming, that was just bad luck!"

"Uh-huh. Sounds like you charged head-long into trouble, but without a proper plan too."

Hal actually pouted at that, so Barry grinned cheekily. "Please tell me you didn't spent three weeks in some musty cell?" His voice sounded way lighter than the question was, but Hal wasn't tricked by it.

"It wasn't musty, actually. It was just really uncomfortable, because those aliens walk on four legs so I was chained hands and feet to the floor. My back is killing me."

"Hal."

"Okay, you don't get to play disappointed with me, Mr. I-got-stuck-upside-down-in-a-hole-in-an-aircraft's-skin."

"Oh wow, I can't believe you still bring that up even though there was nothing I could've done in that fight with my speed-"

"-you could not have used yourself to plug the hole, for starters-"

"-well I didn't have the time to plan any of that, unlike you and your well informed alien missions-"

They were both laughing despite how ridiculous their play-squabble was, but Hal still clearly felt the need to shut Barry up before they would get any further. Hal framed Barry's face in his hands - rather battered and scabbed hands, Barry noted with some concern - and all but mashed their faces together for a hungry kiss.

"If you-" a hard kiss to interrupt his own words "-keep making-" another kiss "-fun of me, Barr," a longer, very hard kiss before he pulled away with a devilish look on his face. "It just means I gotta teach you a lesson. Maybe if I chain you down like I spent my last three weeks you'll feel a little more inclined to be sympathetic instead of mean."

Barry gasped when the green light of Hal's power enveloped him without warning, shackles forming around his wrists and ankles and dragging him down to the floor. At least Hal was smart enough to cover the floor with another construct to anchor the chains on, because Barry had still not forgiven him for the last time he hammered a construct through his floor for a sex game.

"Did you spend three weeks with your arse up in the air like this?" Barry wiggled for good measure, not about to give up just because he was restrained to the floor now.

"I managed to get to my knees after a roughly half a day wriggling my feet around." Hal gave a hard slap on Barry's arse, and Barry yelped in surprise.

"Hal!"

"They didn't do anything dirty while I was arse-up in a cell," Hal informed him casually, even while pressing his crotch to Barry's butt in a way that was everything but innocent, unbuttoning his jeans for him and peeling them down to Barry's thighs. "But the position did give me some inspiration for thoughts to keep myself occupied with. All the filthy daydreams." Hal sighed wistfully, then stepped back to slap Barry's arse again, the feeling much sharper this time without the barrier of jeans and brief. "And you were starring in all of them."

"A flatterer today, are we?" Barry was sounding a lot more strained by now than he intended, but he couldn't help it. He was forced half upside down by the cuffs on his wrists and the chains on his ankles were so short he could understand it took Hal half a day to turn his feet around and get down on his knees. There was too much blood rushing to his head, and what Hal was doing to him was as much to blame as the position.

"I would never lie to you," Hal cooed, and Barry scoffed - or at least until a finger prodded his hole and slipped in.

"If you are going to use a lube construct for this whole thing, I swear Hal-"

"Fine, fine, I'll get the bottle. Assuming you didn't finish it while I was gone." The finger retracted and Hal left grumbling, leaving Barry to hiss in offence.

"I'm not a horny teenager like you, Hal!" He shouted after his boyfriend, only to get a shout right back.

"You sure look like one!"

"Say that again and you won't be fucking anyone tonight!"

Hal returned in the doorway smirking, and Barry only strained his neck to glare at him for a second before dropping his head more comfortably.

"You're just sulking because you didn't get any for three weeks."

"So be a good boyfriend and fix that without insulting my face, would you."

"It's a lovely face." Hal actually leaned down all the way to press a kiss to Barry's cheek. "Even if it's all red from being upside down." He walked around and once again paused to spank Barry hard, once, before he got to business with the lube.

Seriously, Hal was such a dick… but apparently Barry just had bad taste like that. And when all was said and done, Hal always made it worth his while.

Even if he restrained Barry to the floor with his arse up in the air.

"God, I hate you."

"Love you too, Barr."

Chapter Text

When Barry zipped in he accidentally almost blew out all the candles that Mick must have been lighting one by one.

There were a lot of candles.

If Barry didn't know he could easily douse the fire of complete burning buildings, he would get very worried about the fire hazard of this amount of candles.

But this was a large family house standing free in an even bigger garden, so even if Mick had set the house on fire the damage would've been limited. And Barry knew Mick wasn't going to light up this safehouse any time soon, considering it was his favourite.

It had a good kitchen and a very big oven, after all. Mick insisted it was necessary to feed Barry's appetite, even if Barry got by fine with his tiny but functional kitchen back home.

But today he was not here to eat. He'd been at a family dinner back at the West's and had promised Mick to come over afterwards. He just hadn't expected the sea of candles all throughout the living room, every stable surface covered with burning candles, including large parts of the floor. The only part of the room with no candles was the couch and the rug under the coffee table - but the coffee table itself was mounted with the most impressive display of all.

And the room was scorching hot.

It was no surprise that Mick was lounging naked on the couch, a blanket under him to protect to couch for the play that was no doubt to come.

"Kill the candles and I kill you, Red."

"I'll relight every candle I blow out," Barry promised immediately. Even if Mick wouldn't literally kill him, the threat was about some serious punishment that would not allow Barry to sit for hours after, despite his healing factor. And he was not here to bait Mick into punishing him tonight - it was obvious he'd be ruining Mick's plans if he did, considering the decor.

"Good. Go strip and get here."

"Yes, sir."

Barry almost made the mistake of running again and putting out some candles after all, but he remembered to be careful just in time. Instead he tiptoed out back into the hallway where he could safely take off his clothes. Mick didn't acknowledge him when he carefully came inside again, so he slowly - slowly - walked over to the couch and knelt on the rug before Mick.

"There y'go doll. Much better." His hair was petted in reward and Barry pressed into the large hand affectionately, knowing it would only be there for a moment before Mick would pick up the collar from the couch beside him and fasten it around his neck. Mick reached down to give Barry's halfway interested cock a few strokes to get him hard enough and then slipped a rubber ring over it to the base.

"Now over my lap."

Barry swallowed hard and scrambled to get up and lay himself over Mick's lap, presenting his arse just how Mick liked it. The first few spanks were entirely expected but still made Barry jolt, and then Mick was fondling between his legs to pull his erection out below where he would be able to see it, squeezed over Mick's thigh.

This was where Barry couldn't predict Mick anymore, and he was tense with anticipation while waiting for what was to come. It could be more spanking, it could be fingers preparing his hole, it could be a toy… or it was Mick leaning forward to take one of the candles from the coffee table.

Barry yelped and nearly jumped off Mick's lap in surprise when hot molten wax hit the middle of his back. Mick's hand clamped down on him immediately to keep him in place, and there was a warning growl from low in Mick's throat that had Barry shaking.

"S-sorry, sir, I was just startled- I'll stay put now."

"You had better, Red."

Barry whimpered at the tone. Mick was a very strict and gruff master, while he would make a complete turn once they got to the aftercare and coddle Barry with hugs and treats and sparse but very sweet words. That caring, loving boyfriend was not here now, though. Right now Mick was his master, and he accepted nothing less than full submission.

Another drop of hot wax hit Barry's back, and this time he just flinched with a sharp whine. Mick made an approving sound, so Barry held on tight to the protective blanket over the couch and braced himself for more.

More was just a few drops before Mick leaned over for another candle. Jostling Barry and squeezing him between lap and upper body. Barry made a choked sound that was punished with a hard spank, but not verbally acknowledged at all. Barry was not to complain, he was to just take it.

He was good at taking it. He just hadn't been prepared for this.

More wax on his back, each drop burning hot and making him gasp and writhe, trying his very best not to move away from the burning sensation. It was too hot and it felt like Mick was actually burning him, even if he knew Mick wouldn't. Not really.

And yet, his breath hitched to something nervous when the candle came close to his skin, the flame flickering against his hip while Mick slowly moved the candle along his side. Barry shuddered at the heat and the weird, light draft that came with the flame, grateful when Mick took it away again.

But next was worse. Mick took a tealight from the table this time, placing the hot metal right between Barry's shoulder blades. And another one a little lower along his spine, and one more on the small of his back. And then the spanking started again without warning.

Barry cried out, jolting forward at the first hard blow of Mick's slightly cupped palm, and the wax spilled from the metal cups all over his back. He cried again and couldn't help the way he writhed, more in surprise than the actual pain, sending at least one of the candles flying.

"Red!"

Mick's voice was dangerous, too loud, reprimanding him.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry-"

Another two hard spanks shut Barry up and then Mick leaned forward, probably to check if the rug hadn't caught fire. When he came back he gave several more hard spanks, but then stopped again, to Barry's confusion.

"Are you done testing my patience yet?"

"Y-yes, sir," Barry whimpered, holding on tight to the blanket. This was… really unusual. Something like this never went unpunished, not if Mick gave such a loud reprimand. The only thing Barry could think of was Mick just wanting to play with the wax too bad to stop and take care of Barry's punishment instead. Which made sense, considering it probably took him hours to light all these candles.

"P-please don't stop, sir," Barry tried carefully, the lowest whimper that he wasn't entirely sure Mick would be able to hear. Speaking out of turn was… dangerous. Sometimes rewarded, sometimes punished hard.

Tonight was a good night for speaking out of turn, because Mick patted his arse reassuringly, rough callouses rubbing up and down the sensitised skin.

"'f course, doll. Now be good and stay still, and you be all pretty waxed by the end o'the night."

"Thank you, sir," Barry breathed, relaxing this time when Mick grabbed a new candle. Because if there was one thing he loved, it was being made pretty by his master.

Chapter Text

"-not much of a hero if I can't save them all, am I?"

Oliver had been arguing with him. Well, trying to cheer him up, actually. Arguing that he knew Barry did his best and he did save almost all of them and how he was a hero. Barry just really wasn't in the mood to accept any of that, not after helping the firefighters pull three lifeless bodies from under the rubble. Three lifeless bodies that he could've saved if he had just been a little bit faster.

So it was confusing that his last bitter remark was followed by an icy silence. It was unlike Oliver to let it end like that… Barry was actually counting on him to not let it end like that, soaking in the praise by denying it, until he would get more. Until he was too tired to argue.

Not that he deserved the praise, but as long as Oliver was there to believe in him, he could be stopped from slipping too deep into that dark spiral down.

It was a scary thought, to think that Oliver was done with arguing this point and gave up on Barry. That Oliver didn't think Barry deserved it anymore either.

It was that last thought that had Barry finally looked up, distressed at the idea he had pushed too hard, but he didn't found a disappointed or a bored Oliver next to him.

Oliver looked angry.

Oliver was also much closer than anticipated, and already grabbing Barry in a hard grip by the bicep.

"If you won't listen to me when I tell you in a normal way, I just have to make you listen."

Barry would deny he got hard at just the sound of Oliver dropping his voice that deep, like the Arrow without a voice modifier available.

He squawked in protest when he was dragged up from the couch only to be pulled over Oliver's lap as the man sat down. Barry was not given a moment to collect himself there, because Oliver immediately pulled his sweatpants down to his thighs so he could deliver a first, hard swat over his briefs.

"I told you you're a hero Barry, and I'm sick of you denying it like it's not a truth acknowledged by not only Central City as a whole, officially, as well as most other officials in the country. Even here in Star City, where they've had the whole anti-vigilante thing going since the day I started as the Hood, they acknowledge the Flash as a hero rather than yet another upstart vigilante."

There was no time for Barry to try argue or make any protest. As soon as Oliver stopped talking he started spanking again - and he wasn't being gentle about it either. Oliver spanked Barry more often but usually he would give Barry a bit more of a warm-up. It was only like this if it was truly meant as a punishment.

"When I tell you you did everything you could, it's not 'not enough'." Oliver didn't stop this time, blows raining down fast and hard and making Barry whine and yelp, squirming on Oliver's lap. He already wanted to try clawing his way off but they had only just started, and Oliver would not be very forgiving right now. "You think I'm generally lenient when I say such things? You can ask anyone I trained here - I even trained you in the beginning - and you know damn well I'm not going to coddle when I think you were slacking, especially if people got hurt because of it."

Barry was crying, too upset and scared with how he had angered Oliver like this to hold back. "N-no, I'm sorry I know-"

"Shut up. I'm not done with you."

He bit down hard on his bottom lip, whimpering when Oliver only paused to drag his briefs down to his thighs as well. He picked back up immediately at the same speed he'd been spanking before, and there was no way Barry could hold back from crying harder at the increased intensity of the spanking on bare skin.

"I know you were in a bad mood but for fuck's sake Barry. You have any idea how it feels for me when I try to cheer you up and you just push away harder? I tell you the truth and you deny it? What does that make me, huh? If you're not a hero, that makes me just a regular thug. You are the one thing about my life that turned out well, that's bright and good and that I didn't ruin with my own two hands. If you deny that I got nothing left, and like hell I'm going to let that be taken from me."

The spanking stopped as suddenly as it had started, and Oliver was breathing heavily with a too hot hand resting on Barry's burning backside while Barry sobbed. Barry still didn't struggle, didn't dare to, because he had deserved this punishment. Whether it was because of how he disappointed himself or how he hurt Oliver, he had deserved punishment.

"I-I went too far with that," Oliver said after a long pause, begrudgingly.

Barry sniffled, but didn't respond. He wasn't sure what Oliver meant.

Whatever it was, the spanking was over. Barry gasped in surprise when Oliver lifted him up - effortless as always, he was enviably strong - and turned him to straddle Oliver's lap instead. Gentle hands cupped Barry's face, thumbs wiping tears of his cheeks.

"I didn't mean to blame you for any of that," Oliver admitted slowly. "I just want you… I just want you to understand how much you mean to me. You're the one bright light that shines through all the darkness here. Every time someone tries to take everything away from me - Slade, Darhk, Chase… you were always there. I love you, Barry."

Barry shivered slightly when Oliver kissed him, just a short peck but completely ignoring how Barry must look like an ugly mess from the crying. It relaxed him to know that Oliver loved him - he technically knew but he always craved the confirmation after getting punished.

"You're beautiful and amazing." Oliver's voice turned almost reverent now as he tucked a lock of hair behind Barry's ear. "Your bright smile lights up everything around you. You're sweet and gentle and loving; I can't ever have enough of you, Barr."

Barry sniffled again, but dared to meet Oliver's eyes this time. He found no more anger there, just honesty and - dare he admit it? - admiration.

"This world would be such a dark place without you."

"O-okay, you made your point," Barry muttered, feeling more and more bashful as Oliver went on. Not to mention that he still had his pants and briefs down his thighs and Oliver had taken to speaking in that husky low voice now, and Barry was definitely developing a problem. He was not ready for Oliver to notice Barry was getting hard at such an inappropriate time.

"No, I haven't." Oliver kissed Barry again, a little longer this time. His hands found their way to Barry's hips, fingers curling over pale skin right above the red glow of the spanking. "I first want you to admit it. Admit that you're a hero and you did everything you could today. Admit that you are not at fault for what you couldn't do, but a hero for doing what you could."

Barry's breath hitched again. "I-I- but Ollie-"

"Barry." Oliver dragged him a little closer on his lap, bowing his head so he could mouth at Barry's neck. "You're perfect, Barry. You're smart and handsome, you're strong and kind, you're a perfect lover and a great friend at the same time. Stop denying it, Barry."

Okay, definitely hard now. But Oliver had dragged him forward to basically sit on his crotch, so he could feel the hard bulge there that told him Oliver was definitely doing it on purpose.

"I-I did everything I could," Barry admitted slowly, and shuddered under the approving sound that Oliver hummed against his neck. "I… it wasn't my fault…"

"You're a hero, Barry."

Barry snorted a soft laugh. "I'm a hero. Fine."

"That's better." Oliver sat back to give him a grin and another kiss, longer and more passionate. More suggestive. "Now I believe we've developed a different problem. Let's take this to the bedroom and I'll praise you some more."

Barry pushed against Oliver's chest with a bashful little laugh, but didn't protest at being lifted and carried to the bedroom. If anything, Oliver would make this a kink of his, just to have a trump card to always cheer Barry up when needed.

Good thing was that Barry knew the same thing would work on Oliver too.

Chapter Text

"You know, Hal? I may be the one known for rambling, but you're the one who could really stand to just shut up every once in a while."

The fact that Hal managed to look offended at that really didn't work in his favour. "What did I say? I wasn't even flirting with anyone but you today!"

Barry gave him a look, and at least then he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

"Well not much, anyway. I was just being nice to that waitress."

"The fact that you even bring this up, Hal, for real." Barry rolled his eyes, but entwined their fingers to pull Hal to the couch with him. "But I don't mind the flirting; at least not if you do it like today. I've known you long enough to not get jealous over that."

"Then what?" Hal tugged Barry down on the couch with him, giving those large begging eyes like he was a puppy Barry just kicked. So Barry straddled his lap instead, pinning him on the couch with a deep frown on his face.

"Maybe the part where you were bragging to Oliver how you were going to be pounding me into the mattress tonight? It didn't occur to you that Oliver didn't need to know that?"

Hal laughed sheepishly, suddenly looking very trapped. "Well, I mean, we always talk like that. Or used to anyway, when he was still a regularly spoilt wealthy fratboy who I went to college with for a bit before he dropped out. It's nothing special, really-"

"Except that I actually work hard to keep his respect, and talking about me like I'm just your fucktoy for the night is not helping."

"I- well…" Hal cringed, and this time he looked properly apologetic. Good. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."

Barry scoffed. "I know. I just hope Oliver will remember that too." He sat back on Hal's lap, eyeing him for a moment. "You know that comment means you're not going to pound anyone into any mattress tonight, right?"

"What? No, Barry!" Hal whined, grabbing Barry's hips and trying to pull him closer in his lap. "I've been away for a week! You can't-"

Shutting him up with a kiss seemed the best option, so Barry tangled his fingers into Hal's hair and pulled hard. He wasn't going to let Hal have his blue balls because he would never stop complaining, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to have his revenge.

Hal was happy enough to kiss back, no doubt thinking he just got himself forgiven with well-applied puppy eyes, and curled his fingers under Barry's waistband to try and grope him. Barry undid his own pants to give him the space to actually do that, and then followed with Hal's jeans.

"I'll just get lube," he whispered against Hal's lips before zipping away to grab it from his nightstand. He lost his clothes along the way and was back to straddling Hal the same way before the other could do as much as blink. "Now why don't you spread me with your hands so I can do some quick prep, hm?"

Hal nodded eagerly and their lips molded together again while he did as instructed. Barry enjoyed those hands on his arse, spreading his cheeks for him so easily and letting him work two lubed fingers into his hole without it being a problem. Barry made sure to dominate the kiss - sat up high enough on his knees so he could press down into the kiss, invade Hal's mouth with his tongue first, keep him occupied and overwhelmed. Hal was letting him so far, but would probably try to turn the tables on Barry sooner or later.

Barry wasn't planning on letting him.

Not much time was wasted on the preparation - two fingers was enough, Barry was in the mood for the stretch of it. He worked Hal's cock out of his pants, squirted some lube on and stroked him a few times, rough and fast, just to spread the lube.

"C'mon, sit forward." Barry shuffled back and dragged Hal's hips along, immediately pushing his shoulders down to lay back against the couch.

"You're riding me today?" Hal's eyes were glittering cheekily. That wouldn't do.

Barry grabbed Hal's chin with as firm a grip as he could without bruising, and made sure Hal was looking him in the eye. "Today I'm taking what I want. Pounding you sounds like a good option, considering what you told Oliver."

Hal visibly swallowed, jaw dropping slightly in Barry's grip. "Y-yes, sir!"

"Good! Then shut up."

Barry completely ignored the indignant look on Hal's face. He reached below him to line Hal's cock up and sat down on it hard, relishing in the sharp sting of the stretch and the gasp of his boyfriend at the tightness. As much as they loved taking it slow and intimate, this was perfect for the moment.

There was not going to be anything slow or gentle about this tonight.

Barry smirked down at Hal, watching his lover's eyes widen.

"I'll make you regret what you said, Hal. Trust me on that."

Chapter Text

Was this a dream?

Pretty sure it was a dream. It was always a dream. Only this time Barry was pretty sure he let Snart into his home with Leo in tow - never mind why. He just hadn't expected to see Len ever again and Leo by his side was a pretty good sign - Barry hoped it was, anyway - so he'd trusted to invite them in and ask Len how the hell he was here and alive. The Legends had sworn he had blown himself up to save them, after all.

But here he was, alive and kicking, and flirtier than ever. No two sentences could be said without a tease, and his punny enthusiasm was only working to encourage Leo as well. It was a mess and Barry wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, which basically resulted in him laughing hysterically without any idea what the conversation was about anymore.

He wondered if either Snart knew what the conversation had even been about anymore when they somehow ended up playing gay chicken with each other. Barry's mouth had felt dry like a desert, unable to protest - or warn Len that Leo was totally cheating by being openly gay and clearly serious about the flirting - and could only sit and watch as they grew closer to the point of heatedly making out on the couch across of Barry.

It really, really wasn't fair. Unless it was a dream, a very realistic dream. Maybe Barry got drugged somehow and he was hallucinating one of his greatest sexual desires or something.

Not one Snart, but two of them.

It had been hard to lose Len, even if he had never had him. Leo wasn't the same, but after Len had been dead so long Barry's heart - and dick - were eager enough to accept him in Len's stead. He usually fantasised about just one Snart at a time though.

Barry tried to swallow, but it became a heavy, audible gulp that regrettably drew the attention of both men.

"I do believe Barry here is enjoying the view," Len noted, sounding too smug for someone who was pretending to not want to kiss his doppelgänger a minute earlier.

"It certainly isn't leaving him cold."

There was an unflattering squeaking sound that might have come from Barry's throat as his face grew hot and red so fast it almost made him feel a bit dizzy for a moment.

"Would you like to see more?" Len suggestively reached out to cup the back of Leo's head, even while his eyes remained glued to Barry for his reaction.

"We could let your ice feast." Leo's hand found Len's knee to squeeze it, muscles shifting and flexing too noticeably for Barry's worked up brain - dick, his worked up dick.

"But you don't need to sit there all ice-olated."

"It wouldn't be cool to make us do all the work."

"Unless you want to just slip back and enjoy the show." Len glanced down pointedly. "Maybe if you'd be a little more exposed so we could see your appr-ice-iation."

"No… no! That one was just bad!" Barry blurted, pointing at Len accusingly.

"No need to get so frosty on us," Leo grinned. "Now pants open and watch, Barry."

Barry spluttered, hands flying down to cover his crotch. He couldn't really deny the bulge that had grown there, though. Not even to himself. The sight of Len and Leo making out was hot, even if they tried to thoroughly ruin it with a cold pun match afterwards.

"Out!" Len gestured with his hand, voice commanding. "Don't pretend like you're not horny from that sight. All three of us know you're just dying to take yourself in hand."

"What- but how- why- I mean-"

"Barry."

Wow, Leo had no right sounding so disappointed right there. That was definitely unfair.

Barry huffed indignantly and undid his fly, wriggling just a little until he could pull his erection out. He received twin nods of appreciation for it - creepy assholes - and the next moment they were glued together again in a liplock. They were visibly trying harder to make it look good for Barry this time, Leo's hand roaming over Len's thigh appreciatively and both of them making obscene little wet moaning sounds into each other's mouths.

If this was a dream anyway, Barry might as well make the best of it.

Even with a dry hand it was a relief to finally stroke himself, fingers closing tightly around his erection in a pleasant squeeze to roll the skin over the hard shaft. He wasn't able to reach his balls with his free hand because he hadn't taken off his pants, but he could still grab and squeeze down on the fabric stretched between his thighs, even if that offered only a little bit of extra sensation.

Barry almost let himself get distracted enough by stroking himself and watching Leo's hand on Len's thigh that he didn't notice the furtive glances that both men were sending his way.

Almost .

But he did notice, as well as the way they were both shifting like they had erections to get settled more comfortably in their pants. Leo's hand had gotten very close to Len's crotch - which always sported quite the bulge, but now it was straining like it was stuffed with six pairs of socks - and wasn't sliding down anymore, as if ready to make the plunge and start groping his doppelgänger. Barry had lost track of the hand Len had had on the back of Leo's head, but he wouldn't be surprised if that was making its way down Leo's back to squeeze his arse.

Barry bit his lip and let out a soft moan, eyelashes fluttering just to hide that he was watching the two men as closely as he was.

Leo's hand was on Len's crotch a breath later, and he arched up slightly like Len had just pinched his butt.

It was good to know Barry was effecting them as badly as they were him .

He was not planning on holding back, if that was the case. If they wanted to watch him masturbate, he would give them a show. He was certain he would be able to convince them to come over and touch if he did well enough.

After a deep breath, he let out a slow keen, vibrating his hand on his dick. The vibrations played through him to make them audible in his keen, and he smugly noted both men gasping at the realisation of what Barry was doing to himself. Barry was used to the sensation of his own vibrating hand - and the mental image of a sexy Snart while vibrating that hand - so he could easily enjoy their reactions while his own touches were not breaking his concentration too much.

And their reactions - oh their reactions.

Barry dropped his head back and let out a deep, guttural moan without holding back.

This was going to be an orgasm of a lifetime.

Chapter Text

"Oh, someone is thirsty tonight."

Barry would have glared for being described like that if it hadn't been Len, and glaring would only feed the troll. He found it tended to work much better to just outright ignore it when Len was being 'funny', or they'd be bickering for hours and Mick would come home and roll his eyes and ignore them for the rest of the evening, and Barry didn't want that. Not tonight.

What he wanted tonight was all the attention Len and Mick could give him. And he was already taking it too, because asking Len for favours was always a hit and miss: either he would lovingly give you everything you wanted or he would tease you relentlessly for as long as he could (and that was as long as it took for Mick to get tired of Len and Barry's shenanigans).

As Len entered the apartment, Barry had dragged him over to the bedroom at full speed to make him sit on the edge of the bed, all but ripped his pants off and he was kneeling and sucking on Len's cock before Len was even aware of what was happening. So okay, maybe he was thirsty tonight. Barry didn't see a problem.

And joke as he may, Len wasn't exactly complaining either. Not while his fingers were weaving into Barry's hair like that, fingertips massaging encouragingly at his scalp as Barry was pressing closer to take more of Len into his mouth. Already half hard, it wasn't easy to take Len's whole length anymore without trying.

But Barry was always trying for Len.

He got Len fully hard pretty fast, and Len's grip in his hair was already tightening because of Barry's hurry. He was licking and sucking and rubbing the tip of his tongue against the sensitive underside of the head just to tease. He swallowed Len down easily with all the practice he'd had, and pulled back only to tongue the slit and make Len gasp and shudder. When Len gripped his hair with his other hand as well in warning, Barry glanced up through his lashes to meet Len's heated look, sank down to take the large cock all the way down, and vibrated.

"F-fuck, Barry-" Len pulled Barry's hair hard and Barry had to pull off with a shocked noise. Rather than swallowing down Len's cum like he intended, he was hit in the face with it. Barry closed his eyes quickly, his mouth hanging open in quiet hunger to still get some on his tongue, shuddering under the sensation of the hot seed on his skin.

Len's moans turned to groans while Barry patiently waited for him to ride it out. He felt Len wipe the tip of his cock on his cheek and he grinned, keeping his eyes closed.

"Enjoyed that?" Barry's voice was a little rough from the deepthroating, but it would get better soon.

"You know I did," Len purred, wiping the cum away from Barry's eyes, but not cleaning his face further. "And you know what I'd enjoy even more?"

With a few careful blinks Barry dared to open his eyes and give Len a questioning look. The smirk on Len's face was a little off and his clothes were dishevelled. He looked delicious, if Barry did say so himself.

"In a minute Mick will be here too. You should greet him like this at the door."

Barry's eyes lit up at the thought. Len did always have the good ideas.

"And should I back him against the door to make sure he makes me even messier?"

"That would be perfect." Len found a clean spot on Barry's forehead to press a kiss to, before pulling Barry up to his feet. Barry didn't wait around for Len to get his clothes back in order, but ran back to the front door to be ready for Mick. The cum on his face was turning watery already, dripping down and onto his shirt, so Mick had better be here quick.

Mick didn't keep him waiting for long.

As soon as the door opened Barry dragged Mick through and had him pinned to the back of it, the door slamming closed with more force than Barry intended. But this was Mick, so apologising was unnecessary - better option was opening his pants just like he'd done to Len earlier and get his mouth on him before Mick could blink.

Mick did blink once he realised what happened, watching Barry on his knees with his cum-covered face with wide, surprised eyes for a second.

"Did Leonard put you up to this?"

Barry rolled his eyes, pulling back with a hard suck before letting Mick's cock go. "A little. I got started on my own accord."

There was no warning before Mick's hand was in his hair, his grip stronger and tighter than usual, making Barry's breath hitch in both surprise and arousal.

"Good. Because it's fucking hot."

Barry offered a smug grin before leaning in again, getting to work on Mick's growing erection. He would be able to get him off just as fast as Len - maybe even faster if this really was so arousing to Mick - and then they could all get started on dinner. And after dinner… Barry had plans for after dinner. Good, intimate plans involving both his boyfriends and a lot of orgasms.

The only downside was that he probably couldn't keep the cum on his face until then. He already felt the edges of Len's cum dry, the substances crackling on his skin as he sucked and licked at Mick. It would not be pleasant to have dinner like that.

He glanced up through his eyelashes to meet Mick's eyes, the look on his face a beautiful mirror of Len's earlier expression of sheer lust for the same sight. So he sank down to take the entirety of Mick's cock and vibrated, just like before.

He loved how easy it was to please his boyfriends, and he sure loved the taste of their cum. Even if they put it all over his face instead.

Chapter Text

"Damn, Scarlet, could it get any tinier?"

Barry blushed bright red, freezing in the doorway under the scathing remark. No, it could not get any tinier. He just took an ice cold shower and all the humiliating things Len was about to start spouting would not be able to make it shrivel up even further in shame.

That's why he had taken the cold shower and stepped out of the bathroom stark naked for Len to see, after all.

Barry fidgeted, unable to look up at Len and face the mirth in his eyes and unable to move in sheer humiliation. And that while Len had only said one thing so far.

Len snorted from across the room - no doubt laughing at Barry's embarrassment - and Barry heard him pat the bed beside him. "Come over here and show me. I can barely even see it from here."

It wasn't that small. Barry was pretty average sized… almost average, at least. And even all cold like this it wasn't like it was invisible or anything. But just glancing up he could see the enormous cock in Len's hand as his roommate was casually stroking it, fully hard and obscenely large. Anyone would be small compared to that.

Yeah, Barry was really lucky here, considering his massive size kink.

Barry shuffled over across the room as commanded, afraid to look Len in the eyes all the way to where he gingerly sat down next to him. It was far easier to look at that monumental cock in Len's hand, flushed from the tip down, veins clearly pronounced under tightened skin. It was a gorgeous cock, and Barry didn't feel like he could be blamed for being so thirsty for it ever since seeing it for the first time.

And fuck, Len knew how to use it so well. Not to mention how every remark about how tiny Barry was in comparison sent Barry's hormones into overdrive, hungry and needy to get his hands on 'real cock' - as Len liked to refer to his own when they were playing this particular game.

"Straddle me so we can compare," Len chuckled.

Barry gulped, but did as he was told, still without meeting his roommate's eyes. Len helped him settle with both hands, and the touch of them made Barry realise Len was wearing a glove on his left. He'd been stroking himself with a bare hand, was as naked as Barry was, but still had one glove on.

Barry was about to question it when Len tugged his flaccid cock closer to the much larger, hard one now pressed up against Len's belly. "Look, how cute. Even with the head start of being on my lap yours is too tiny to reach to mine's tip."

That wouldn't be true for long, but it was true now. But Barry was definitely getting hard, the chill of the shower making place for heat simmering under his skin, aroused with every scathing word from Len's lips. If he had known he got off on being humiliated he wouldn't have been so confused about why he thought his roommate was so hot right from the bumpy start.

Len pushed Barry back a little on his knees so they were no longer lining up their dicks - probably so Barry wouldn't be able to see it when he got hard enough to surpass Len's length with this head start, slapping Barry's backside hard with his bare hand when he was satisfied.

"It's no wonder you never got laid before I took pity on you." Barry whimpered, but Len just chuckled. "I remember you asked me how I fuck with a big cock like mine when you first saw it, but I should've asked you that question. How can you put something so tiny in a hole? Do your partners ever even notice when you penetrate? Oh wait, that's assuming you ever had any partners. A little cockslut with a tiny wee-wee like this? No gay man would touch that, and a woman would just laugh so hard there would be no mood left. You're really lucky that you're an easy fuck for me, because if you weren't my roommate I wouldn't have bothered with something this pathetic either."

Barry hung his head in shame, but Len wasn't done with him. Len wouldn't be done with him until he had pumped his load into Barry's arse - he knew from experience now. And there was a lot of humiliation to be had before that point.

There was a shiver up Barry's spine in arousal at the thought, but he wasn't allowed to linger. Len wrapped his gloved hand around Barry's cock now - a thick and warm winter glove, dwarfing Barry's penis in its bulkiness even further. Even though Barry was hard now and no longer all that tiny, he looked small all over again in that glove. It made Len's cock look all the bigger, resting heavy against Barry's knee.

"Aren't you going to thank me for touching your tiny pisser, Scarlet?"

"Th-thank you," Barry blurted immediately, but Len made a sound of disapproval.

"That's no way to talk to your betters, Scarlet. Maybe I should just stop-"

"Please- no sir, thank you! Please keep going, sir, thank you so much, sir!" Barry clung to Len's shoulder desperately, fingers squeezing tight to hold on.

"Hmm…" Len honestly looked like he was debating it for a moment, before he smirked and squeezed Barry's dick tight in his gloved hand. "I suppose I could keep going. Maybe you are able to cum with this little thing, and then you may be relaxed enough to be fucked with a real cock."

Barry nodded eagerly, hips rolling forward into Len's hand. "Please, sir, please fuck me with your big cock! I need it so bad, sir!"

"Shh, nobody can blame you for wanting a real cock in you," Len snickered. "Any men without one would be this desperate. Not that I ever met one with something this pathetic, but hypothetically speaking."

Barry groaned, closing his eyes and turning his head away.

He knew he wasn't that small. And he knew that even if he was, that wasn't a problem. And yet.

"C'mon Scarlet. Let's see if you can squirt with this miniature of yours."

A sob escaped Barry before he could help it, and Len's bare hand squeezed his hip encouragingly in a way that completely mismatched the way he'd been speaking so far. It brought a flicker of a smile to Barry's face to know that Len was looking out for him despite appearances, and that in turn seemed to relax Len to let him fall back fully in character.

They had a long evening ahead, and Barry was going to enjoy every second of it while Len degraded him.

If he had known he'd had this kink… he'd have jumped Len on day one.

Chapter Text

"Sorry, Captain, that's it?"

The way Julian scoffed, the disbelief in his voice… it truly made Barry want to gag. Two weeks and he was so done with this guy.

"Sir, I document eight different-"

"-nine."

"-nine different violations of regulations and he gets a fifteen second talking-to?"

Barry wanted to strangle the guy, but they were still in front of Captain Singh and he was holding coffee, so Julian was lucky today. But the temptation grew despite those good reasons to keep his hands to himself when Captain Singh actually paused to consider what Julian said.

"Barry is young, and he is too talented to put his career on a setback with official warnings." At least Captain Singh was still in Barry's favour… even if he was looking like Julian was about to convince him that measures had to be taken.

"I promise, I'll do better," Barry quickly interjected before Julian could continue - but Julian ignored him completely in his endeavour to get Singh to punish Barry.

"A little more than a light slap on the wrist won't do any harm." Julian scoffed, looking particularly haughty. "If he is really that young that you don't want to affect his future with his punishment, maybe he should just be bent over a knee and spanked like a brat instead."

Barry snorted in amused surprise - and then froze at the calculating look Singh was giving him. "Y-you can't be serious-"

"Albert makes a good point," Captain Singh said thoughtfully. "A few reprimanding words won't teach you anything." He stood up sharply, stepping around his desk. "Bend over the desk, Allen. A good old-fashioned spanking might be just what you need."

"B-but Sir, you can't just- I mean-" Barry was biting at air like a fish, completely flabbergasted by the mere implication that he was about to get spanked by his Captain. Julian was looking particularly smug too, and that made it so much worse.

"Don't keep us waiting, Allen."

Barry took the few steps towards the desk instinctively at the stern voice, even if he still wasn't sure about what was happening. He just kept gaping at Singh like he was expecting him to tell this was a joke any minute now.

"Off with the bag- give that coffee to me, I'll put it out of the way."

This time he obeyed knowingly, handing Singh the coffee in his hands to place it aside on a filing cabinet while Barry dropped the shoulder bag to the floor. Singh pushed it under the desk with a foot and then pushed Barry's upper body down over the desk with a sharp shove between the shoulders. Barry yelped in surprise, Singh's hand remaining hot and hard between his shoulder blades to keep him down.

The first blows were over his jeans were more shocking than painful. Captain Singh was hitting hard and fast, but the jeans were thick enough to dampen most of it. It became a problem when Singh paused and Julian was suddenly there to undo his jeans and pull them down to his thighs.

"H-hey- you can't do that man- come on-"

Neither Singh nor Julian reacted to his protests. The Captain simply proceeded to spank, laying out the blows left and right in quick succession. It felt like he was hitting the same two spots over and over again, as if wanting to make it hurt as much as possible - or at least keep it localised. Sitting was going to be hell after this.

"Captain? I have the report-"

Barry groaned and dropped his forehead on the desk. Of course Eddie would walk in on this. Eddie had cut himself off with a gasp, and for a moment Barry hoped Eddie was going to make protests about Captain Singh and Julian having Barry here with his pants around his knees, but the hard thud and click of the door closing proved him wrong.

"Perfect timing, Thawne. This works better with three."

This time Barry did make a protest by struggling against the hand on his back, but Singh was stronger than he looked and holding him down firmly.

"What did he do?" Eddie asked breathlessly, and Barry wasn't sure if that was his excited or apprehended voice.

"What didn't he do?" Julian scoffed, and at the same time Singh resumed the spanking, drawing a whimper from Barry.

This really wasn't fair, and at the same time he… didn't mind it half as much as he should. He might have dreamed about something like this once or twice, even if it was never with the audience of Julian and Eddie. But both were annoyingly attractive - even Julian with his impossible personality - and Barry couldn't honestly complain about the two of them here. Well, he would complain, but he wouldn't mean it.

Singh only stopped when Barry's arse felt hot and sore, and he hoped it was over now.

He should've known better .

Julian was there again to pull his briefs down this time, and Barry jolted and tried to buck to get his hands off.

"Stop! Don't- Julian stop that, I'm serious here-" He wasn't serious, but he was definitely hard and not really ready for them to see that.

Barry pressed his thighs together with a strangled little whimper, hoping none of them would look around between him and the desk to see his erection. This was humiliating enough as it was without the three men realising he was getting off on it.

"Check behind that cabinet," Captain Singh instructed, and Barry only belatedly realised that wasn't aimed at him when he felt Singh's hand back on his backside. His hand was hotter on his burning skin without anything in between, and when he picked back up the spanking it hurt a whole damn lot more too. Barry started to squirm under the barrage of spanks, everything melting together to sharp stinging burns on each slap and his body jolting against his will on each blow now. He tried not to whimper and groan but the sounds started to slip regardless. This was more intense than he had expected - and by expected he meant dreamt, and he wasn't going to admit to that ever.

"Oh? I didn't know you kept one of these around, Captain?" Julian sounded way pleased and Barry's heart sank in worry for whatever it was that he found behind that cabinet.

"I thought it would come in handy one day." The spanking stopped abruptly, and Barry was released from the heavy hold on his back. "Stay put, Allen. You're almost done."

Barry's knees buckled at the 'almost', and he had to push himself back up by the desk with a worried whimper. The next touch to his backside was different, but he couldn't recognise it from the feel alone. All he knew was that his arse was hurting terribly and his cock was dripping over the front of his thighs.

"You are going to get nine with this one, Allen. One for each violation, three from each of us. After that you will be done."

Barry nodded weakly, shaking on his legs. "Yes, Sir."

"Good."

Barry only realised what the new implement was a long two seconds after the tell-tale whoosh through the air and the crack of it against his arse, and he cried out and curled up defensively in a very belated manner. A cane. They had a cane.

He squirmed and writhed against the pain - Singh was not holding back at all, that bastard - but the tap of the cane against his burning backside commanded him to straighten up and present his arse again. He did so begrudgingly, afraid of the next blow.

The Captain let the tension build, the cane sliding up and down the curve of his arse as if he was calmly deciding on the best spot to hit. Barry almost started to complain that he should just get on with it when the whoosh was there again, and the sharp crack had him cry out and sob this time. It took him several seconds to straighten up again for the third blow, and he was sniffling against the desk. It was just the third, and he was crying like a child over the spanking.

This was really really worse than he anticipated.

The third lash of the cane was just as hard as the previous two, and Barry was so busy writhing and whimpering, sunk through his knees as far as he could without getting off the desk completely, that he didn't even notice the shuffle of the men behind him as the cane changed hands.

"This is just swat number four, Allen."

Barry grit his teeth at Julian's voice. At least the anger at him calling this punishment down on him helped him stand up straight again, his angry tears quieter than the ones before.

Julian seemed to put in more effort to hit as hard as he could, but he didn't have an arm as strong as Captain Singh. It hurt - it hurt bad - but it was a little easier with Julian wielding the cane. Barry's anger towards him and Julian's weaker arm combined made it a whole lot easier.

Julian wasn't as much of a tease either, not pausing for more than a few seconds to let Barry straighten back up between landing the hard swats. His three were over fast, and Barry sighed a breath of relief that he was at two thirds of the last part of his punishment.

The only thing was that he didn't know what to expect from Eddie. Eddie could definitely hit as hard as Singh, maybe harder… but would he? Barry wracked his mind for a memory of the last time he wronged Eddie, coming up with little more than stealing Eddie's food from under his nose a few times, and Eddie always laughed that off. So this couldn't be as bad, could it?

He was still shaking in dread when Eddie placed the cane against his backside, trying to stay upright and not cringe away in advance.

"So, nine violations, huh?" Barry felt cold at Eddie's casual tone. "I'm not really surprised. I like you, Barry, but I've been aching to do this for years now."

Fuck .

Eddie's first swat was the hardest.

Barry cried out louder than before, the reflexive jolt of his body almost sending him sprawling over the desk entirely. He was openly sobbing now, and didn't make a move to get back up immediately. Fuck, this was nasty.

Eddie patted the small of his back encouragingly until Barry was ready to pull back off the desk and stand on shaking legs again. The second swat - no, the eighth - was not as hard as the previous one, but Barry was so sore by now that it wasn't better at all. He just sobbed and clung to the desk tightly, crying weakly for it to end already. At least his erection was gone now - he would be jacking off to this for months to come but right now the pain was enough to make it go down, at least.

"Last one, Barr." Eddie rubbed his back, and put the cane back against his skin. "I'm sure the Captain will let me come up to your lab to make sure you're okay afterwards, because you've done so well."

"Of course," Singh gave immediately, and Barry let out a shuddering breath.

"Last one." Barry tensed up for it, but he was ready. Last one.

He still cried out loudly, and he still all but crawled onto the desk as if he could get away from the pain like that, but Eddie had been kind and let the last one be the softest of all the lashes with the cane. And it was over now, he had made it through his punishment.

He hadn't embarrassed himself by letting anyone see his erection, and he was too far gone to feel embarrassment about standing with his bare butt on display to his Captain and two colleagues anymore. He was… fine. He felt lighter than before, better. Even if his arse felt like hell rained fire upon it.

Eddie pulled him upright and tugged his briefs and jeans back up, careful with the slide of the fabric over sore skin. He was rubbing the small of Barry's back again soothingly while Captain Singh handed him Barry's bag, and Julian grabbed his coffee for him.

"Come, let's get you up to the lab," Eddie said gently, voice warm. Barry felt forgiven with the way Eddie spoke, even if the two who had decided to punish him hadn't said anything about it. But Eddie had been there and had punished him as well, and neither Singh nor Julian were protesting Eddie's kindness, so Barry leaned against Eddie sniffling until an arm wrapped around him, tucking him under Eddie's arm.

All was good now, and Barry would improve his professional behaviour towards Julian and his job.

Or maybe he wouldn't, if he could get confirmation that the same punishment would await him if he kept on violating regulations like he was.

Chapter Text

Coming back to himself started with becoming aware of hands gently massaging his wrists. It was a bit of a strange feeling, mostly because Barry couldn't quite recall what it was for at this time. But Ray's hands were warm - always so warm, so gentle, like springtime sunshine - and a bit greasy with lotion, so the sensation was very pleasant.

There was a smell of chamomile coming with it… fresh and sweet. Grounding too. Soothing his frayed nerves like chamomile tea would soothe a sore throat. Pleasant.

Maybe it was because of the ropes. Leo had tied him down earlier, Barry remembered that now. Maybe that's- no, that was definitely why Ray was being so gentle with his wrists, massaging the soothing cream into reddened skin. It wasn't technically necessary with Barry's fast healing, but the one time he suggested they didn't have to waste the expensive cream on him they had both reacted almost outraged. They hadn't stopped what they were doing and the next day Leo had taken Barry over his knee and spanked him long and hard whilst lecturing him about self-respect.

Barry had never tried to argue that point again, and he was happier for it. Truth to be told, he loved the feeling of them rubbing the cool cream into his skin as lovingly as they did.

And that brought him to the next thing he became aware of: the lack of Leo.

Normally both Leo and Ray would be touching him at once at this point. But it was just Ray, and no matter how loving Ray was, Barry still craved both of them.

A soft whimper escaped him unbidden as he shifted, slowly casing out where he was and how he was. Ray was sitting on Leo's desk chair in front of Barry. There was a hard, but no longer cold surface under him, but just his torso. His legs were down, a sharp edge pressing against the crease between thighs and hips - he was laying over Leo's desk. Of course.

Barry nodded to himself as he realised what was going on. His arse was burning - he only realised that now? It was hurting, throbbing from the paddling he'd received earlier. The feeling of cum hotly trailing down his inner thighs was an afterthought. Both on the back and the front - Barry was proud to know he got at least one of his lovers to cum inside of him, and he was fairly sure he was so out of it as a direct consequence of his own orgasm.

"You comin' back to us, sweetheart?"

Barry blinked, needing a moment to refocus on Ray in front of him. He worked his mouth around a response, only to find he wasn't quite able to vocalise anything yet. So he slowly nodded instead, hoping that would be enough.

"Good." Ray leaned over to press a chaste kiss to Barry's lips. "You were really out of it there, just now. You looked peaceful so we let you float - or did you fall asleep on us, hm?"

A smile tugged at Barry's lips, and he gave a slow shake of his head. He didn't fall asleep, but he was most certainly 'out of it'. But he felt peaceful, just like Ray said. He felt light and warm and only slightly uncomfortable on the desk.

The desk. Yes, the desk was hard, not comfortable. It was ruining his bliss.

Barry squirmed and Ray's fingers wrapped around his wrists now, sliding down until they were clasping hands and Ray could give a reassuring squeeze.

"Just a moment longer, sweetheart. Leo is filling you a nice warm bath and we don't want you to move too much."

Barry relaxed instantly at the explanation, more than happy to accept it. Had he been less deep in he would have kept squirming against the discomfort, but now he could still just accept. If Ray wanted him to stay put, he would stay put. It was just a little uncomfortable and he would gladly suffer worse for his lovers, if they required it of him.

Especially if Ray gave him another kiss like that, all sweet and gentle and with that soft sound in the back of his throat that had Barry moaning for more.

It was laughter that made Barry aware of Leo's return.

"Seducing our pretty sub again already, Ray? We haven't even cleaned him up yet."

Barry hummed softly in response, even if he wasn't sure what he meant to say with it himself. He got another kiss for it though, and he let himself be distracted happily while Leo started to carefully dab a cold wet cloth over his burning backside.

So he got one of them to cum inside, and one on his spanked butt? Barry felt accomplished now, the memories slowly returning to him the more his lovers touched him. Every touch drew him a little further back to the surface, let him remember and feel beyond the general woozy float he was in.

After Leo cleaned him enough to the dom's tastes the cloth was placed on the desk beside Barry and Leo leaned over him to carefully pry his arms under Barry's body. Barry let himself be manhandled easily, not resisting anything and limp like a doll. With Ray's help Barry was rearranged to a proper lift in Leo's arms, and he rested his head against Leo's shoulder with a pleased murmur.

"I got a warm bath for you with those bath pearls you like so much," Leo whispered in his ear conspiratorially. "And a surprise too."

"Tell me you didn't bring out the whole tray of tiramisu I slaved on all morning," Ray laughed, and even if Leo pouted at his surprise being spoiled, Barry perked up with interest.

"Ray's tiramisu?"

"Those are his first words in an hour." Ray snorted and lightly caressed Barry's cheek before Leo turned to carry him to the bathroom.

"Appropriate first words after a mind-blowing orgasm and a long drift in subspace, if you ask me."

Barry nodded his agreement to Leo's statement, to Ray's clear amusement.

It was the laughter that made it all so perfect, and Barry managed to bring himself to hold on to Leo properly as they manoeuvred through the bathroom door. Returning back to the world of the living was always worth it with these two.