#team flash

Being Barry Allen’s girlfriend meant a few things.

One: You never had to open your own jars.

Two: You always had snacks.

And three:

Barry Allen would cross the entire city for you without hesitation.

Which is exactly how Cisco found him halfway suited up at lightning speed after receiving a single text message.

Cisco blinked.

“Dude.”

Barry looked up from putting on his boots. “What?”

“What emergency happened?”

Barry frowned slightly. “What emergency?”

“You’re literally vibrating.”

Barry held up his phone like that explained everything.

On the screen was your text:

come here :(

Cisco stared at it.

Then at Barry.

Then back at the text.

“That’s it?”

Barry looked confused. “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”

Caitlin glanced over from the med station and immediately sighed.

“Oh no.”

“She texted me to come over,” Barry explained quickly, already pulling his cowl on.

Cisco looked genuinely concerned.

“Barry, she lives fifteen minutes away.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’re acting like the city is exploding.”

Barry paused.

“She used a sad face.”

Cisco collapsed dramatically into his chair.

Barry ignored him completely before disappearing in a streak of lightning.

The wind he left behind knocked papers off the desk.

Cisco stared blankly.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

━━━━

By the time Barry arrived at your apartment, he was already talking before you even fully opened the door.

“What happened? Are you okay? Did somebody bother you? Are you hurt?”

You blinked slowly at him.

Barry stood there breathing hard like he’d just outrun the apocalypse.

In reality, you’d texted him because you were craving cuddles and having a bad day.

“…Hi, baby.”

Barry’s entire expression softened instantly.

“Oh.”

You tried not to laugh at how worried he looked.

“I just wanted you.”

Barry stared at you for half a second before immediately pulling you into his arms.

“Oh thank God.”

You laughed softly into his chest while he held you tight, one hand rubbing slowly up and down your back.

“You scared me.”

“I sent one sad face.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“You love it.”

He wasn’t wrong.

━━━

Later that night, Barry laid between your legs on the couch with his head resting against your chest while some random movie played quietly in the background.

One of your hands played through his curls while the other rested against his shoulder.

Barry looked half asleep.

Still, every couple of minutes, he’d press random kisses against your stomach, your hand, your thigh, literally wherever he could reach.

“You’re clingy,” you murmured.

Barry cracked one eye open.

“And?”

You smiled.

“And nothing.”

“Good.”

He snuggled even closer somehow, arms tightening around your waist.

Being loved by Barry felt warm.

Safe.

Like being someone’s favorite thing in the world.

Eventually his phone buzzed loudly from the coffee table.

Cisco: you alive?

Then Caitlin:

please tell him to stop smiling at his phone during missions. it’s embarrassing.

You started laughing immediately.

Barry groaned into your chest.

“They’re annoying.”

“Mhm.”

“They’re obsessed with me.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“They said YOU’RE obsessed with ME.”

Barry lifted his head finally, looking genuinely shocked.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Barry.”

“What?”

“You ran across Central City because I texted ‘come here :(’.”

Barry thought about it for exactly two seconds.

“…Okay, but what if you were in danger?”

Your smile softened instantly.

God.

How were you supposed to survive a man like this?

You leaned down, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“I love you.”

Barry smiled immediately, sleepy and soft.

“Love you more.”

A comfortable silence settled between you both after that.

The movie still played quietly.

The city outside kept moving.

But Barry only cared about you.

And judging by how tightly he held onto your waist even half asleep

he probably always would.

━━━

For months, it had been an ongoing argument between you and Harry.

Not a serious one.

At least, that's what you both pretended.

"You absolutely have a breeding kink," Harry said flatly one evening, not even looking up from the tablet in his hands. Dinner was finished and you sat down with some ice cream and book. 

You nearly dropped the spoon you were holding. "Excuse me?"

Now he looked up, completely unimpressed. "You heard me."

"Oh my God," you laughed incredulously, heat already rushing into your face. "You cannot just say things like that so casually."

Harry hummed, turning back to the kitchen table work like he hadn't just detonated a bomb in the middle of a quiet evening. "I'm simply making an observation."

"You're insane."

"No, I'm observant."

You rolled your eyes hard enough to hurt. "And what exactly makes you think that?"

That dangerous little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth immediately.

"You like being pinned down."

Your mouth opened.

Closed.

Harry continued before you could recover.

"You get that look every time I grab your hips." He set the tablet down slowly, watching your reaction far too closely. "You melt when I tell you what to do." Another step closer. "And every time I finish inside you, you act like you've achieved enlightenment."

Your entire body went hot.

"Harry—"

"And," he added smoothly, "you once asked me what our children would look like."

He was standing above you now, leaning down with both hands on either side of your head. 

You body was on fire. Remembering that less than 12 hours ago, you and Harry looked just like this is bed, hands above your head while he rolled his hips into you and called you his "pretty girl."

"That was hypothetical!"

"You asked what color their eyes would be."

"Because you have pretty eyes!"

Harry actually laughed then—quiet, low, unbearably smug.

"Mm. Sure."

You shoved at his shoulder, mortified. "You're impossible."

"And yet," he murmured, catching your wrist before you could pull away, "you keep proving my point."

That became the routine after that.

Any little slip earned a comment from him.

You lingered too long watching him work? Breeding kink.

You got flustered when he called you "good girl" under his breath? Breeding kink.

You absentmindedly mentioned that his hands would make pretty babies?

"Jesus Christ," Harry muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. "You're never beating the allegations."

The worst part was how insufferingly smug he became about it.

Especially because he knew exactly what it did to you.

"You started this," you accused one night while sitting on the edge of his workbench.

Harry glanced up from whatever impossible device he was building. "Started what?"

"The breeding kink accusations."

"Accusations imply I'm incorrect."

You threw a balled-up paper at him.

Harry caught it easily without even looking.

"You're proving my point again," he said dryly.

"You're the one who keeps bringing it up!"

"Because your reactions are entertaining."

"You're unbelievable."

"No," Harry said, finally standing and stepping between your knees where you sat perched on the workbench. "What's unbelievable is the fact that you still blush every single time."

Your breath caught immediately when his hands settled on your thighs.

Harry noticed.

Of course he did.

That smugness faded into something darker as his thumbs stroked slowly against your skin.

"See?" he murmured. "There it is again."

Your pulse jumped.

"Harry..."

"What?" His voice dropped lower. "You gonna tell me I'm wrong?"

The look in his eyes made your stomach tighten dangerously.

Because lately the jokes didn't feel much like jokes anymore.

And judging by the way Harry was staring at you now, he'd realized that too. He was gonna prove his point somewhere, somehow. 

One late night at the lab between a string of petty robberies you and Barry had spent most the night stopping. 

Harry Wells had you bent over his workbench, your sweatshirt pushed up around your waist while he drove into you from behind. His precision was there—each thrust calculated, controlled—but tonight there was an edge of desperation beneath it.

"Harry," you managed, fingers scrabbling against the cool metal surface. "I want... I want you to finish inside me."

The change was instantaneous. His rhythm faltered for just a second before his movements turned rough, urgent. "What did you say?" he growled against your neck.

"I want you to come inside me," you repeated, louder this time. "Please."

Harry's restraint shattered. His thrusts became sharper, deeper, his grip bruising on your hips as he angled you to take him completely. "Fuck," he gritted out, his voice raw with need. "You shouldn't say things like that to me."

When you pushed back against him, meeting his increasingly erratic rhythm, he groaned raggedly against your shoulder.

"Don't you dare pull out," you begged, reaching back to tangle your fingers in his hair. "Please, Harry."

His hands clamped your thighs tighter, spreading you wider as his pace became punishing. 

The workbench scraped against your palms with each forceful thrust, but you barely registered the discomfort over the pleasure building inside you.

"Look at you," he rasped, one hand sliding around to your stomach, pressing down as if he could already feel himself filling you. "Taking me so well. So fucking perfect."

His control was completely gone now, reduced to instinct and need. When he finally came, it was with a guttural cry that vibrated through your entire body. He stayed buried deep inside you, his weight pressing you into the workbench as he emptied himself.

Harry watched, panting heavily, as he slowly withdrew and saw his release beginning to spill out of you. "Jesus Christ," he swore softly, the sight clearly affecting him more than he'd ever admit.

Before you could move, he was pushing back into you, slow and deliberate this time. "Not done yet," he muttered through clenched teeth, his voice thick with possessiveness. "Not nearly done."

Later, tangled in the sheets of his bed, Harry held you in silence. His arms were wrapped around you with an intensity that bordered on desperate, his face buried in your hair. He didn't speak, but you could feel it in every touch—obsession, possession, a need to claim that went far beyond physical desire.

"You okay?" you finally asked, turning in his arms.

He just tightened his grip, pressing a hard kiss to your temple. "You definitely have a breeding kink" he laughed loudly. 

You narrowed your eyes, jokingly pushing him off you and attempting to roll away. To which he grabbed your hips protectively and pulled you right back to him. 

"Where you goin'?" He asked between laughs. "I gotta give you my babies again so you can see what they look like" 

"I hate you" you roll your eyes. 

"No, you love me" he said before climbing on top of you and kissing you softly. 

"I love you" you confirm kissing him back. 

"Let me breed you some more" Harry said between kisses, his excitement already pressing against your thigh. Your face was hot, already getting excited.

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