#bart allen x reader

[damianwaynesbelovedsposts]

prompt list 

requests or open!

1: “i think i might be in love with you”

2: Saying something flirty mid-fight which catches them off guard, giving you the perfect oppurtunity to strike

3: "I won't go easy on you" and "I don't want you to"

4: "Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much"

5: “Do you want me to slow down for you?” 

6: “I can keep going.” 

7: “I fucking hate you.”

8: “Oh, fuck. say that again.” 

9: "hold my hand" and "absolutely not"

10: "Oh, come on! Don't act like you care!"

11: Never do that again. Please"

12: "Say it, you love me."

13: "Because I want to hear it from that pretty mouth of yours."

14: "Please don't push me away, I love you."

15: "What if someone sees us?"

16: "But I don't care about what anyone else thinks”

17: "You're not my dirty little secret. And I never want you to think that."

18: "We should kiss, Right now."

19: "I have a key, it's not breaking an entering,"

20: "who's apartment are we in?"

21: "Shh! They’ll hear us!"

22: "Get behind me"

23: “Come over here and make me.”

24: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

25: “Your mouth says you don’t like me but the way you stare at me tells me everything I need to know.” 

you can also make up something an request it if you’d like<3

[gemini-sensei]

Y'all I've already shamelessly fancast Jacob as Bart Allen

[underthe-redhood]

our last chance

- a/n: it's mentioned that the reader is the daughter of bruce and selina, but it's never mentioned that she's biologically related, so you could definitely interpret it as her being adopted by them!

8. blueberry icing

- synopsis\\ you watch as dick runs off after batman betrays him for the last time, causing the family to fall apart. after an explosion, and a time machine, with a speedster to help you, you have one last chance to stop history from repeating itself.

• word count: 1,253

• masterlist

INCOMING CALL: dick :3

you quickly looked up at bart, very nervous about why dick could be calling. "pick up before it goes to voicemail!" bart panicked.

"relax, there's no way we got caught," you tried to reassure him but your tone was dripping with anxiety.

"hey y/n, turns out barbara's not here. she texted saying she got an alert, is everything okay?" he asked.

this wasn't totally unexpected but nonetheless your heartbeat was speeding up. "oh uh, i can probably go down to the batcave and check?" you offered, hoping he wouldn't take you up on it.

"no that's okay, we're probably just gonna pick up some donuts and head back. they have blueberry icing, you really like that one don't you?" he suggested.

"yeah i do, you're the best," you said. saying that out loud made some of the guilt go away, because it reminded you why you were doing all of this.

"anything for you," he chuckled before hanging up. you were a little worried that your plan was going to lead to them having fights; but then that was sort of the point, wasn't it?

"what now?" bart asked you. you thought about it for a second, you couldn't just cause one small inconvenience and then move on to the next step of the plan. obviously you would need to cause several more for this part of the scheme to actually work.

"i think we should keep this up for at least like another week or so,” you told him. he nodded his head at you a little bit.

“won’t it seem suspicious if the problems just suddenly stop though?” he asked with slight concern.

“not necessarily,” you said. “if we can make the problems seem subtle enough then it should just seem like they went through a little rough patch.”

“okay yeah, that makes sense,” he said. “but what exactly are we gonna cause next?” he asked, still not totally clear on the plan. but, to be fair, neither were you as you still hadn’t even perfected the plan yet.

“i’m not really sure yet,” you looked down as you thought about it. “oh!” an idea came to you. “she works at the university’s library, so we could pose some fake events there and convince her to work extra shifts to help out with it. the more time she spends at the library, the less time she’ll have with dick,” you proposed the idea and he looked at you in thought.

“i mean yeah, i don’t see why that wouldn’t work,” he said. “we could also try convincing dick to spend some time going over some extra training with the titans. i know starfire really loves it when he comes back to visit and he seems to enjoy getting to help us out every once in a while.”

“that’s perfect,” you smiled. “then it won’t just be babs ditching dick, so it won’t be a ton of negativity just immediately dumped onto them.” you hugged him out of joy, you were so thrilled because it really seemed like things could actually work out and that you could actually get your brother back.

bart loved that you were hugging him, and he couldn’t deny that being around you felt just a little bit more special every time. it was clear to him that he was falling for you, but it didn’t bother him or freak him out. you had always been so perfect to him, even when he only saw you as a friend. it only made sense to him that he would start to catch romantic feelings for you as well.

however, he could tell that you hadn’t caught onto his actual feelings yet. you just assumed that he was a flirt the same way his cousin was before he finally got a girlfriend. and while bart was a bit like wally in some ways, it was different with you and it always would be. the real question to him, however, was how you felt about him. he knew the feelings of closeness and trust were mutual but he wasn’t sure you reciprocated the same feelings.

and, in a way, he was right. the same way you hadn’t noticed the way that he liked you, you hadn’t picked up on the subtle reasons that had led to you acting the way that you did. you weren’t sure why you let it slip that you thought he was cute. you weren’t sure why you felt bubbly when you tried to think about why you called him cute. you considered the possibility that you liked him, but you weren’t sure if you were overreading your emotions or not. that, and you already had so much to worry about with dick that you didn’t think you even had the time to really think much into it.

and so, you let it go. as special as bart was to you, you knew that you would have to work that out later. at that moment you had to worry about dick. it was a little heartwarming, however, to think about how you would never have to worry about bart. he would always be there for you, and for that you were so thankful.

“i’m sorry about your time machine,” you brought it up as your tone became faintly sorrowful. “i know going back home means a lot to you.”

“it’s okay,” he said. “the longer i stay here the more reason i have not to leave.” you didn’t know that he was referencing you, and he was maybe a little glad about that. you meant so much to him, that he would rather tease you about relationships as a friend then try one out when it wasn’t meant to be and risk everything in the process. as long as he got to be around you, it didn’t really matter to him what role he was playing.

his statement filled you with an odd feeling of joy, and still you weren’t sure why. “still, i’m always here for you too.”

then it was his turn to smile, “thank you y/n, that really does mean a lot.” but then his smile became more of a smirk, “so back to when you said ‘if we ever date’..” he trailed off.

you felt flustered, “oh my god you know what i meant!” but there was still that little voice in your head that wanted you to put more thought into it then, rather than later. because, did you know what you meant?”

“i’m just saying, fake dating is such a common trope that your brothers would never suspect it as part of a plan to rewrite the timeline,” he was doing a damn good job at selling you.

“i feel like we might just end up there with the grave i’ve been digging for myself,” you warned him. “why do you want this so bad? is this your way of secretly getting me to fall madly in love with you,” you joked.

“maybe it is, maybe it isn't,” he said with a goofy grin. he was so charming, you really were glad that the two of you became friends– even if it was under tragic circumstances. “i should probably get going before they all come back, though.”

you nodded, “i’ll call you tonight?” he had taken a few steps back but was still looking at you.

“i’m looking forward to it birdie,” he winked, and then he sped off leaving you feeling flustered once again.

taglist: @onepieceformeplease @purpleflower777 @neptunesxlover @fake-id-69 @missmystic-vampirebarbie @elarimard @nub-the-stub @xingqiusliegee @ceridwyn3 @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @venomsvl @bassett-s @ye-old-trash-rat @slitheringss @soobsdior @fruittiest-of-loops @treebranch23 @froggityer

dm me to be removed or fill out the form on the masterlist to be added! it has been a good while so please let me know if any updates need to be made to my tag list!!!

[imdeadinsidesiriuslydead]

Part 💯 two 💯 my boy don’t get enough content

Shut up! | Bart Allen x villain!reader

Minors Do Not Interact

Warnings: Smut time baby! Blood, bondage, whimpering men. Dom! Reader and Sub!Bart Smacking! Aged up characters!

a/n: Sorry it took me a minute to write the part 2! Enjoy! Mwah!

—

Bart leaned into the kiss, moaning as he did so. The sudden clash of teeth causing him to wince.

You brought the knife back up to chest and gently skimmed it against his skin. Feeling his breath hitch against your lips before relaxing slightly.

You pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your lips. “You ready to make this sound real?” You ask.

“Oh, one hundred percent. You know I’ve always been a fan of this kind of role play but have never really thought I’d be living it ou-“

you cut off his rambling with a smack, a loud Audible smack, causing him to yelp.

you gave him a look, “remember what I said? Sound real.” You gave him a stern look.

You go to hit him again, gentler than before. A small sound was made against his skin, but he loudly winces.

“Not working.” You whispered. “Your noises sound fake.” You state.

Impulse suddenly blushes heavily and looked into your eyes with his innocent ones.

“I liked it when you pulled my hair.” He whispered, his innocence disappeared and his mischievous smile was back. “But you should do randomly, catch me off guard. In the meantime, use that knife.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down again.

You made a quick decision and smack him again, hard. He yelled again than turned back to you with a shocked look.

“What? You said to catch you off guard.” You say.

“Ok, when I said that I meant with th-“

You quickly leaned down and connected your lips again. He melted into the kiss, leaning up to press against you harder.

“Shut. Up.” You said as you pulled him back towards you desperately.

You wouldn’t say that men whimpering or yelling in pain has ever turned you on before, but when Impulse does it, it went straight to your aching core.

You pulled back again, leaving Impulse breathless. You moved the knife over to his other shoulder and quickly cut the fabric of his suit.

“there was a zipper in the back.” He said

you ripped the rest of his suit with your bare hands and pulled it off his shoulders and chest.

“Someone’s eager.” He smirks.

“And someone’s not gonna cum if they don’t shut the fuck up.” You say, staring into his eyes, causing him to zip up quickly.

You ran your cold hands down his bare chest causing him to shiver.

You felt his hard on press against you threw both of your suits. You gently rutted against him and brought your knife back to his other shoulder.

Bart felt you cut a small, shallow cut and then another one next to it, than another.

He looked down to find you writing your name on his skin. That, plus the constant slow rutting against him and he couldn’t help it.

He let out a loud moan. taking this chance, you quickly grabbed ahold of his long hair and gave it a sharp tug.

Causing Bart to moan the loudest moan you had ever heard a man moan.

you whimpered but try to mask it under you leaning down to suck at his neck. But Bart noticed how your hips sped up against his own.

Bart was practically vibrating in his chair, he just didn’t want to accidentally vibrate out of his restraints. He could at any moment if he wanted to. Of course, you didn’t know that. He didn’t want you to know that he let you catch him every time.

He rather much enjoyed being subject to your torture. Though he is sure he’s getting special treatment.

You pulled back from his neck to slow down your pace. Impulse whimpered pathetically, bucking his hips trying to get some friction.

You simply grind on him slowly taking you time before each hip roll. Your hair goes into his hair, he seemingly expects you to pull on it but you don’t.

You look at his hair, noticing how soft it was in the roughness of your hand. How the color was a mix between brown and red. How the long pieces framed his face.

You eyes than traveled south to his. You looked into them, unobstructed by his goggles, and studied them. The golden brown eyes you saw before were almost completely cover by his pupils.

You noticed the dark blush on his cheeks. The light freckles that lay underneath it. You had never noticed them before.

“You’re beautiful.” You say breathlessly, completely losing your focus on punishing him.

The expression in his eyes shifts from lustful to surprised. His blush darkens even more as he whimpers again, staring intensely into your eyes as he bucks his hips faster.

You comply with his silent plea but decide to do if differently. You slide off his lap and onto the floor. He whines loudly in protest and struggles against the ropes.

His body was vibrating with anticipation. But he willed himself to stay in the restraints, taking Wally’s advice to not be so impulsive. Though this is probably not what Wally had in mind.

You took your blade again and cut open the pants of his costume. Ripping away the material til you left staring at Impulses hard and leaking cock.

He was fairly large for a guy as lean and short as him. Enough to surprise you.

Your brain started turning and you figured to get real authentic sounds out of him, you have to play along with his little fantasy he mentioned earlier. If he likes to talk, he should have a taste of his own medicine.

“You’re so big.” You said as you lean down to take his coal in your hand, he had a fair amount of girth to him.

You looked him in the eye and took his cock in your mouth. You sucked on the tip as he whimpered loudly.

“Ah, such a good boy.” You said as you lick around the sides of his dick.

he moans again trying to sound in pain but he really just sounded more pathetic.

you stood up and pulled the zipper at the front of your jumpsuit all the way down, revealing your tits and skimpy underwear to him.

He moaned again and started vibrating faster. He willed himself to not move.

“Impulse,” you say and look him in the eye. “I know you can get out of there,” you say causing his eyes to widen. “Come get me.”

That’s all that it took. before you knew it. Your back was on the ground backed and Impulse was onto of you also naked.

His hand were running all over your body, vibrating as they went.

His lips connected with yours, kissing you fast and hard. Teeth clashing as he deepened the kiss.

You wrap your arms around his waist and roll so your on top.

“Careful,” you warn “I’m in charge.” You say, holding his face in your hands.

He leans up so he’s in a sitting position, you move him so he’s leaning against the wall, kept upright.

You take his cock in your hand and line it up with your entrance. You push your hand through his hair, feeling the smooth thick strands.

You slowly lowered yourself onto him.

Bart felt like his brain was gonna explode. The tight warmth around his cock felt so amazing. He closed his eyes, too satisfied with the pleasure he was experiencing.

His daydream was cut short by a sharp tug on his hair, causing him to yelp loudly.

he opened his eyes to see you smirk before you started ridding him hard and fast.

You felt him hit a spot no one had hit before and let out an accidental loud whine. Bart thrusted his hips up, trying to here you make thoses sounds again.

“You feel so good Y/N.” He moaned as he leaves down to suck on your neck.

You were moaning too loud for people not to hear you, too lost in the pleasure.

“Stop.” You said and yanked his head back by his hair, causing him to wince loudly.

“Im sorry. Im sorry.” He struggled to say as you sped up your hips.

“Ah! Im such a whore for you.” He moaned as you pet his head.

you felt the pleasure building up inside you.

“Are you c-close?” You manage to say as your hips tried to keep up the pace they set.

“So close.” He panted “You feel so good.”

You pulled his head towards yours, connecting your mouths. Impulse moaned as he kissed you back sloppily.

You felt his dick twitch inside you before his cum shot into you.

He picked up your hips and started fucking himself back into you, whimpering at the overstimulation.

He felt you clench down on him before you finally came on his cock, with a cry of his hero name on your lips. Enough to fuel his late night hornyness for months to come.

You pulled him close to you as he buried his face in your chest. You sighed and kissed his forehead.

“You better put our clothes back on so I can pretend to the guys out there that I beat you to a pulp.” You said laughing to yourself about the odds of them believing it.

“Did I make some good noises?” Impulse asked as he looked up at you with a shit eating grin.

“Did I fucking stutter?” You ask again. The fear strict in his eyes as with in a blink of an eye, you had your clothes back on, though your zipper was left open a bit at the top, showing cleavage.

You looked at impulse with an unamused expression, only to see his grin in return as he held up the ripped parts of his suit.

“Ok scram Impulse. Pretend to be hurt as you run past Butch.” You say as if you didn’t just fuck the man you’ve been crushing on you a year.

He nodded and ran out the door, screaming in agony as he did. You laughed to yourself and zipped your jumpsuit the rest of the way up.

You did wish you had more time to properly treat him after that though. But the guys down the hall will get suspicious with the amount of time you spent in boarding on silence with the hero.

———

“Hey Bart! What are you doing h- Woah!” Tim said as he saw Barts disheveled state.

“Bart what happened?” He asked concerned as he quickly grabbed his cape off his back and put it over Bart.

“So I was running right, and all of a sudden I trip and I fall and I get tan right over by a lawn mower.” Bart rambled quickly as he tried to cover himself up with cape.

“Bart how are you always getting into this Looney Toons level shit? Like out of all my friends, of course you get tan over by a lawn mower.” Tim ranted as he went to get Bart so clothes to run home in.

“Yea it’s crazy! It’s like I’m living a dream.” He said to Tim. “Awetkindofdream.” Bart said quickly.

“what?”

“what?”

“forget it.” Tim said as he grabbed Bart as sweatshirt.

——

sorry I need it quick, I’m heading to comic con tomorrow morning and wanted to finish it before then.

[dickmedowndc]

Kiss Tax - Bart Allen x Reader

Word Count: 1,856

Summary: Bart had always been affectionate in your relationship. Quick to give or ask for anything from a hug to a kiss – the latter of which he had made a habit of giving before each mission he went on. At least when it wasn’t something last minute or it was manageable. But you had finally decided to return the affections more yourself, beginning to ask for a “kiss tax” on small things such as passing through the door or handing over a drink. A practice that Bart seemed more than happy to adopt and turn around on you just as quickly. 

Notes: Partially inspired by something from Feels Like Fighting Gravity, one of my upcoming OC/Canon fics, where Wisteria tends to demand a “kiss tax” for things – I thought it was cute. Also, inspired by a relationship headcanon that Bart tries to kiss his partner before each mission, just in case.

…★…

It was quiet. 

Far too quiet. 

You had been reading in absolute silence by the window for some time now, a storm pounding on the windowpane in a consistent lull, only interrupted by the bright white flash of lightning and the cracks of ground shaking thunder that sent a vibration through your home and body. 

The quietness that had you narrowing your eyes and sliding a bookmark between pages was not the silence of nature – not with its ongoing war cry – but rather the silence of your home. It was unnerving, unnatural, after becoming so used to the sounds of a speedster making himself comfortable within the walls. Setting the book aside you reached over, grabbing your phone and flicking the screen on to see the time: 4:57 PM. Bart had been due back from his 3-day mission more than 3 hours ago. Granted, it wasn’t uncommon for a speedster to be late back from anything, but for such a stretch of time with no word from him, it was becoming concerning. 

But you had faith in your partner and knew when he was free from his duties or the debriefing – or wherever he was – that he would be back. That was not to say, however, that it would stop you from curling up on your bed and waiting a bit longer. At least you told yourself that had been the plan, but the moment that your head hit the pillows you found your eyes were growing heavy without your consent and you fell asleep. 

When you woke later it was with a start and a pressure pressed against your entire body, one that was vibrating as it laughed. Just as quickly your eyes flew open and landed on your boyfriend, all too amused with himself and face shoved into the crook of your neck as he continued to shake in his absolute mirth. 

Finally, he stopped, just long enough so he could peak up at you and the faint mumbling against your skin could be deciphered. “Did you miss me?” 

“I always miss you,” you assure, bringing a hand up to run it through his fluffy hair. “But I’m also starting to miss sleep.” 

He said nothing, only pressing a series of too-quick kisses against whatever exposed skin he could reach. The actions leaving you a squirming mess under him as you tried desperately to avoid his attacks, finding yourself short of breath soon enough. 

“Bart please, please stop,” you gasped out, one hand trying to pull his head back by his hair, knowing you weren’t hurting him too much, and the other trying to shove him back by one of his shoulders. It did little to dissuade him, his onslaught continued until there were tears in the corners of your eyes and you could no longer beg for him to show mercy. It shouldn’t have tickled you too much, and perhaps you should have seen it coming, but it was the very speed that he left those feather light touches, and the hands on your side keeping you from hiding, that made it all the harder to calm down. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Bart stilled. His hands were still planted firmly on your sides, but he allowed his body to collapse onto yours. He seemed as content as could be to just rest his head on your chest, looking up at you with faux innocence as though he had not been lovingly tormenting you only moments ago. He was good at that, and he knew it. “Too cute to be mad at” you had said one time, and he had run with it for situations such as this. 

Finally free to take in as much air as our lungs burned for you could finally calm down. With one hand limp at your side, the other that remained webbed through strands of his hair had just enough feeling for you to pull him forward. “Come here,” you murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his lips when he finally complied. When you opened your eyes and pulled away, the only thing that you could see was the elated grin of your partner. 

“What was that for?” 

“A kiss tax, you have to pay a kiss tax now.” 

Bart cocked his brow at you. “What am I paying for?” 

“For tickling me, you menace. And maybe I’ll make you pay another one for being cute.” 

“What if I don’t want to pay the tax?” 

“Sorry,” you huffed, a gentle hand to his cheek, “no tax fraud allowed.” 

Bart only laughed, following your gentle pull before kissing you once again. “For being attractive?” 

You rolled your eyes at his words, moving to correct him swiftly. “For being criminally cute.” 

“I think I can live with the kiss tax, even if it’s just to get you to start kisses more.” 

You waved him aside, knowing it wasn’t a rude jab. Bart had known about your shy nature and your hesitance at giving physical affection on that level. It was well discussed. But it did not stop him from poking fun at it on the rare occasion. 

But what you had not known that day, after fully deciding to lean into the kiss tax idea - because your boyfriend deserved it, and always made time to give you what physical affection he could, including a goodbye kiss before every mission – was just how happy it would make Bart. And just how eager he would be to pay said tax for each little thing. 

But three weeks later it was resoundingly clear to you. 

Bart had always been the more affectionate of the two of you – not that it wasn’t mutual. But he had never shied away from asking or surprising you with hugs or a quick kiss, he gave compliments like he needed to do so to breathe. It was a pre-fight good luck charm for him to find you wherever you were and kiss you before he had to go unless he did not have the time. Hand holding, domestic mornings just cuddling in bed, hyping you up to those around you. It was just the way he was. 

And in private you returned his affections. Your own flustered nature leaving you stuttered over it in the company of others. You enjoyed it nonetheless. 

But now Bart had gotten a taste of you regularly starting these moments, and he was enjoying it. 

“Can you hand me that water?” he called, puppy dog eyes on full display as he stared longingly at the bottle from over the bed of the couch. 

You could only shake your head at his antics before bringing it to him, still partially distracted by something you had been reading on your phone; Anita had been recorded during one of her saves recently and you were checking the highlights, mentally reminding yourself to congratulate her later. Your train of thought was interrupted when Bart cleared his throat. Puzzled, you stopped, looking at him in a silent question of what was wrong. 

“I have to pay the tax, don’t I?” 

You could feel the way your lips twitched up at the corner. You couldn’t miss the chance to mess with him. “I don’t know if I'll be collecting any tax on water.” 

He looked like a kicked puppy almost immediately. He would put Dox to shame with the sad eyes he was pulling. 

“But you took tax the other day.” 

You could only roll your eyes before motioning him forward, the air knocked from your lungs when he practically threw himself over your lap. So much for reading the rest of the article, you mused, tossing your phone aside. You took a moment and just squished his face between your hands, earning a grumble as he turned away to break your hold. “Alright,” you said, relenting at last, “come here you big baby.” 

Bart was more than happy to oblige, stealing a kiss faster than you could even register the act. 

But when he pulled back, he had that look on his face you sometimes found you would regret later, like he knew something, or was planning something. You ignored it, knowing full and well that if he wanted to keep his secrets for the time he would, especially if he thought it would make the payout all the better. 

The best you could do was enjoy the tranquility of the moment and resign yourself to whatever fate awaited you. 

That fate, as you found out only hours later, was Bart now flipping the script on you. 

Where it had previously been you requesting a kiss tax before letting him into your bedroom, Bart now stood in front of it, puffed out and taking up as much space as he could. “You need to pay the tax, sorry babe.” 

You snorted and crossed your arms. “I need to pay the tax in my own place?” 

“Don’t you do that already?” 

Your arms drop to your sides as you sigh. “Alright, come here, you.” You pull him forward and give him a kiss, before ducking under him and making for the kitchen before he can change just how much tax you owe. Not that trying to outrun him has ever worked in your favor before anyways, but it always seems to make the both of you laugh, and that’s enough. 

But his demands for kisses don’t stop there, and you find that Bart seems to have found a new past time – finding what things he can still do for you and still be able to collect tax. It isn’t every time, thankfully, so it keeps you on your toes enough. Nor does it seem to diminish just how excited that he gets each time you still make him pay with a quick kiss as well. 

That’s good, because the way he lights up is something that you’re hoping you get to see for a long time to come still. 

An admission you let slip after stealing another kiss when he tries to pull you in to cuddle. 

Bart seems to go completely soft at that, eyes half lidded, and arms thrown around your waist so he can pull away long enough to just watch you for the moment. “Anybody saying you can’t?” 

“No, but I wanted you to know. I don’t always tell you as much as I maybe should.” 

Bart breaks out in a smile there – he could put the sun to shame – but it’s just as soft as it is bright. “You show me all the time.” 

You can only raise a brow at that. “Really?” 

“You do,” he insists, pulling you closer. “It didn’t take me that long to figure out how you show it.” 

It's like a weight you didn’t know had been there is lifted when he says that. The kiss tax had been in part to show him that you cared just as much, and knowing that he already knew? It put you at ease. Enough so that you quickly found yourself curling into his chest to be lulled asleep by his heartbeat, aware he wasn’t far behind you. 

[nouearth]

a soulmate AU where you can write on your skin and have it appear on the body of your soulmate. with bart allen x dark angsty reader

i just combined your two asks together since they're pretty similar. hope you like it!

it's okay to not be okay.

pairing ; bart allen x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, the flash, young justice. word count ; 896. genre; angst & comfort. rating ; pg-13. warnings ; comfort!fic, soulmate!au, topic of depression notes ; i've been kinda on a creative block, so i'm so sorry if this sucks, lol. bart is aged up by the way!

“you up?” the sound of rain accompanies you as you’re sat at your desk, waiting for a response beneath your written question. it’s one of those nights again. another night of endless tossing and turning because of thoughts—stupid thoughts. naturally, parts of your body find a rhythm as a way to shake out those bad thoughts, an impromptu exorcism you liked to joke. 

your fingers nervously drum against cherry wood, your leg bouncing in pursuit, and your heart races all at the same time, as you wait for a response. it’s four am, you weren’t exactly hopeful for one, but somehow, bart has yet to fail you.

“brley.” you’re calmed by the appearance of the black ink on your skin, smiling now. barely. he’s missing an ‘a’ but you figured you’d give him a pass considering how late it is.

“sorry. just wanted to see if you were still awake.” you write smaller than usual on your skin, accommodating for the longer sentence. 

“drinking a coke now! you ok?” his handwriting is sloppy as usual, but you find it endearing. it’s almost like he’s rushing to talk to you and you couldn’t complain about that—you do the same.

“4 am thoughts again?”  bart continues on before you could write a response. he’s always been a quick replier, impossibly fast at times.

it hasn��t been long since… all of this started happening. you never believed in having a soulmate, even attempted to refute the idea. but the existence of bart allen has convinced you into believing, maybe… just maybe, that he’s the one. bart always knew what was on your mind simply by how long it would take you to respond at times. that’s how impressive he is. he always knew what to say. not because he’s wise or smart (though, he is), but because he knew how to make you laugh. and you can feel yourself healing, though baby-steps, the more you spent time with him.

“you know me.”

“and i always want to know more! favorite cheesecake flavor? mine’s a basque.” you chuckle as more words appear on your skin, quickly extending over the length of your forearm as bart never cared to write small. “i know, it’s a little too fancy for me, but that caramelization is YUM!”

“and i thought you knew me, bart…” you write just as the previous responses vanish into your skin. “you know i don’t like sweets.”

“i know and it’s why i’ve docked you down to being 95% compatiable with me.” a smug smiley face with its tongue sticking out ends his sentence and you draw whatever you can imagine at the moment over it like you often do, both to your amusement.

for a moment, you forgot why you even woke him in the first place. bart makes time pass by, the problem and care of the world—of life—fleet away when you’re with him. but when you’re not, everything is numb. white noise follows you everywhere. the only reason why you come out of bed is to go to work, but you work idly, breathing as best as you can. living as best as you can.

you didn’t realize you’ve been staring off into space until you felt soft pressure applied to your forearm again, breaking your focus. “you never answered if you were okay or not.” 

it takes a moment, a long moment until you gather the courage to respond.

“honestly? no…” you sigh to yourself, admitting defeat. 

sometimes, there were days where you felt okay. but they were rare. you hated feeling like this. merely stating how you felt made you uncomfortable, but you’ve been lying to him, to yourself for so long. you aren’t okay. because the longer you lied to yourself, the more you hurt everybody, what’s left of everybody, around you.

you’ve stopped doing your favorite things again, opting to sleep the entire day away if you could. but you knew it was unhealthy. so you try. you try to make yourself okay, whatever that meant. going to the beach, taking a walk in the park, it was something. but you always found yourself wanting, dreaming to be one of those attributes that had people returning to those locations. the gentle sunset that warmed cold shores, the breeze that kept park benches cool, you wished you had that effect on someone—to have them return.

but to have them return is to get better, work towards being better. you’ve hurt a lot of people. those that have tried to help you, stood by you, but you’ve pushed them all away by now, and you’re alone. painfully alone.

“you remember what i told you from before, right?”

“yeah.”

you think to yourself, will bart return if something happened? if you were an ass to him? said or acted hurtful towards him? you knew you would never intentionally, but it’s a thought—a scary one. 

“it’s okay to not be okay.” you both write simultaneously, your print in small and bart’s in large.

you’re not doing well. you admit to yourself again, and that’s okay. you remind yourself, alongside with bart’s writing. it’s a part of life and most of all, a step in the right direction. to healing, to being better, to being okay.

“i’m always be here for you.”  “you always know what’s on my mind, bart.”

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[a1307s]

Companion #3

(Bart Allen)

[Art is not mine! Credit to onipilot]

Requested by: Feketealkony16

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 4,041

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Torture

Blood

———————————————————————

     It's been about a month since Bart and I started dating. It's been really nice. I like him a lot. I like waking up next to him, I like playing with his hair, and I really like our kisses. We have also been talking to Canary together which makes it easier to tell him things and has helped me not be so scared of him touching me.

     Another new thing has been us going on runs. My companion has a lot of energy and a lot of stamina which means he can be a handful when he isn't active enough. We talked it over with Canary last week and she recommended to find something we could do together. Something that could be altered so Bart could burn through his energy before bed. We ended up settling on nightly runs. I can work on my cardio and stamina and Bart can run circles to use up his energy.

     Like every night recently, we're on our nightly run. Bart is zooming around town, stopping for a beat when he passes to check up on me. He paces next to me, throwing up two thumbs up. I nod and he zooms away again. I'm not okay, my lungs are screaming, and I want to stop, but there were no missions today, so my companion has extra energy, which means this needs to be an extra-long run or else I won't get any sleep.

     It's hard to keep up with my breathing so I stop for a moment. I hunch over, hands on my knees, as I heave for air. The chilled oxygen burns my lungs, but it's nice to not have such labored breaths. I go to stand up straight again, but before I can there's a sharp pain in my side.

     "What the-" I turn to my right, where the pain is, and I'm meet with Luther's face. No... no, no, no, no, no.

     "Experiment 203," he says, tugging the knife from my side. The blade of the knife is green, the same shining green as the rock that haunts my nightmares. I stay frozen, unable to run or fight or scream. Within seconds the world goes black, the only thing I can feel is my body making contact with the pavement.

————————————

     A light shines behind my closed eyes, slowly pulling me out of my sleep. I flutter my eyes, giving them a chance to adjust to the light. Where am I? Where's Bart? Why is it so cold? Luther! I snap my eyes open, my most recent memories flooding my mind. Luther, the knife, the concert. 

     I scan my surroundings. Glass separates me from the room. It's the dark, cold, red room. The room of my nightmares. The room I spent most of my life in. I slam my fists against the glass, my voice tearing from my throat as I yell. "Let me out! Let me out right now! I know you can hear me, Luther! Let me go!" Unsurprisingly, the glass doesn't break despite my strength. It never did before, it's not going to now. Despite that, I continue banging on the glass, trying to make it crack.

     "Experiment 203," Luther's voice comes through the speakers in the room. This isn't real. It can't be real. I'm just having a nightmare. Any minute now I'll wake up with Bart wrapped around me in bed. "Welcome back to Cadmus. You've been missed."

     Lair. Dumb, mean, abusive, lair. "Let me out!" I scream again, the feeling of blood trickling down my hands from the continued contact with the pod.

     "No can do, 203. We have more tests I need to run. Plus, now I have to restart everything. I can't have you acting like Project Kr." 

     "My name is Y/N! And my brother's name is Conner! Y/N and Conner! Conner and Y/N! We are people; We have names!" The glass in front of me is stained with my blood, the stain only getting worse as it rolls down the front of my - the pod.

     The speakers stay silent, the voice being replaced with the sounds of fans turning. The pod is filled with gas, making it hard to stay awake, to stay fighting. My fists get slow, and my eyes get heavy as I breathe in the air. I can't pass out again. I can't be vulnerable. I can't let Luther get the upper hand. Even with my best efforts, the world starts going dark again. No, I can't live like this again. I can't go through all this again.

————————————

     The end of Luther's knife dugs into my bone again, the tip of it sliding against the hard material. "What's your name?"

     "Y/N." 

     The knife is pulled out before quickly being plunged back into me. This time, the tip of it digs between two bones. Luther tips the knife, forcing the bones apart slightly, causing new waves of pain to ripple through the numbing pain. Tears trickle from my eyes as I tug against my restraints, the rough edges of the kryptonite digging into my wrists and ankles again. Blood trickles from the new wound. I've grown used to this, grown used to the only warmth coming from my blood escaping from my injuries.

     I don't know how long I've been here. How long I've been running tests so long that I can't even stand by the end of it. How long Luther has been tearing my flesh apart piece by piece.

     "What... is... your... name?" He asks again, removing the pain for a second before plunging the knife back into the same place, over and over again.

     I need it to stop. I need him to let me go back to my pod. I need to sleep. I need a break from the pain. "Experiment 203."

     "Good Job!" Luther cheers, removing the knife from me and letting it clutter onto the medical table I've been tied to for hours. Or maybe days. Maybe even months. I can't tell anymore. 

     It's been terrible, it's been tiring, it's been the same it was before Project K- Conner saved me. The same exhaustion I can't wash away from the overuse of my abilities and the under-given chance to sleep. The same exhaustion from lack of food, lack of light, lack of anything except pod, tests, and pain.

     Occasionally anger bubbles in me. At first anger at Luther, and now anger at the league. Where are they? Why haven't they saved me? Do they not care? Does Bart not care? Has he already moved on? Cut his losses? Has he found a new companion? A new relationship? Is he someone else's boyfriend? Does he miss me? Does he think of me?

     "Are you thinking of your little speedster again?" Luther asks, his eyes as dark as ever as he pats at my wounds with a cloth. He says he doesn't like blood in my pod because it could ruin the wiring and 'we can't have a dysfunctional cage for you, can we?'.

     I stay silent, focusing on the lights above my head. They're bright and burn my eyes when I look into them, but I don't care. At least this is pain I can control. The only thing I can control.

     "He's not coming for you, and neither is Project Kr. Do you really think they'd risk getting captured to save you again? You're worthless to everyone but me. I'm the only one that sees any worth in you, the only one that cares. The league couldn't care less about-"

     "I know," I whisper, cutting Luther off as I blink my eyes, giving them a little rest from the light above. He's wrong... maybe. Probably... probably not. If he was wrong, why would I still be here? If he was wrong, why would I still be hurting? Bleeding? At least he cares, right? If he didn't care he wouldn't put so much effort, some much time into me. "Thank you," I murmur, pushing down a whimper as he dips the cloth into one of the newer wounds.

     "What a good pet," Luther says, moving closer so I can see his face. His eyes aren't dark anymore, they're almost sparking as he smiles at me. "Good, good pet," he adds, running his hands through my blood-soaked hair. At least I know Luther still cares.

———————————— 

     The metal infused with kryptonite wrapped around my neck and wrists clink around as I fall to my knees. In the past while Luther has been testing my jumps, he wants me to jump higher, he wants me to fall harder, make the Earth shake more. He thinks if I work on it enough my genes will unlock flight so I'm better than Project Kr - Conner. My brother's name is Conner.

     I stay curled up on the floor, my breathing sounding louder than it is as it echoes off the walls. "Luther?" I call after a pause of silence. Usually, he calls in, and tells me to do it again or that I failed or that I did good. Maybe I did really bad and that's why he's not talking. I probably did badly, I'm exhausted, all my limbs shaking from the constant use of my abilities. I did bad.

     The button for the speakers is pressed in the control unit, sending the familiar clicking sound throughout the room. "Y/N?" A voice calls, but it's not Luther's.

     This is a test, a new test. Luther has run this test a few times to 'see if I'm really fixed or if we need another lesson'. I passed it last time - it only took six tries - so I thought it would be done with. Hope used to flow through me when I would hear someone call it out, but that's been beaten out of me, beaten out of my head, my soul, my heart. I'm not being saved, Luther just pulled a doctor and had them call for me to see if I've learned my lesson. 

     "I'm Experiment 203," I answer, turning my head towards the control unit. It's a blackout screen, so Luther can see me, but I can't see him. I did good, I passed the test, and I will get chocolate before going back to my pod today. Maybe I'll get lucky and there will be almonds in it like last time. I hope so.

     Another click, but silence passes over the speakers. "Oh, Y/N," the voice finally says, it cracking as the person speaks.

     "I am Experiment 203. I am Luther's, I belong to him." Why are they still going? I passed the test; I said the right thing. I want my chocolate, my pod, my sleep. I am being good, so why won't Luther give me my reward? 

     I stay still, waiting for Luther's voice. The heavy door behind me opens, filling the room with screeching as it moves on its hinges. "Luther!" I call, trying to be cheery and smile despite my pain. He likes it when I'm cheery, he says it makes me look like a cute puppy dog. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the new, brighter light filling the room from the open doorway. When they do focus, it's very much not Luther standing in it. 

     Standing in front of me is someone short, someone skinner than Luther. Where is Luther? Who is this? Is Luther, okay? Why is this person here? Why isn't Luther here? Did I fail? Is this my punishment?

     "Y/N?" They call taking a step into the room.

     "I am Experiment 203!" I try to yell, but it doesn't work out that way. I struggle to my feet, moving as far back as my restraints will let me. Kryptonite digs into my skin as I pull against my restraints, the edges reopening old wounds and causing fresh blood to start coating my skin. My trembling now is a mix of exhaustion and fear.

     The person takes another step forward, the ends of their hair almost glowing from the light behind them. "Y/N?" They repeat, my vision is filled with the green eyes from my dreams. "Are... you're... oh my god," Bart mutters, quickly walking up to me. His hands hover over me as he moves them around, his mouth falling open and shut as he panics.

     "I am Experiment 203," I repeat, trying - but failing - to pull back more.

     "No, your... your name is Y/N," he says, his hands settling on the restraints around my wrists. His own hands vibrate for a while before my shocks drop off my wrists and land at my feet.

     Once again, I try to tug against my collar to get further away from him. This isn't real, this is a test, and I'm failing. I don't want to fail, I don't want to hurt, I want my chocolate. Bart steps closer, his hands moving up to my last restraint.

     "No! Go away!" I yell, shoving him away from me. From my overuse today, my strength isn't super good, and he only ends up on the other side of the room instead of through the wall like I meant. That's not good. I definitely failed this test. I'm not getting my chocolate.

     "Bart!" Someone yells, quickly joining us in the test room. Just like last time, it's Birdman, in the same repulsive blue spandex suit. This dumb bird. He needs to go away. They all need to go away. I'm too tired to pass this test. It's not fair. "Y/N!" Birdman yells, standing up after checking on the speedster. 

     "Go! Away!" I yell again, trying to put more strength behind each word. 

     Birdman's face falls as he snaps open one of his pockets. "I'm so sorry," he says, pulling out a green shiny rock. I am so sick of kryptonite, I'm so sick of people, of men, of heroes, of life. "It'll get better," he says, pushing the rock against my head. The darkness I've grown used to envelopes my mind, making me grateful for the rest even though I'm furious with the world.

———————————— 

     Light peeks through my eyelids, pulling me from sleep like usual. Unlike usual, this light is a lot brighter than the small bulb in my pod. I take my time opening my eyes, eating up the last few seconds of sleep. Who knows the next time I get to sleep? The next time I get to rest. What do I have to do today? Where I'm even at. It's important to enjoy the peace when I have it, especially since I don't get a lot of it anymore. Plus, who knows where Luther has transported me to or what this new place has in store for me?

     When I finally open my eyes, I'm met with a pale yellow wall. It takes a second, but I realize I'm not in my pod. I'm in a bed, with blankets on top of me and pillows behind my head and back. What kind of test is this? What does Luther want me to do in this situation?

     I glance around the room, being met with different furniture. Luther must have really gotten into my head because this room is an exact couple of my old bedroom, from my old life, from when I was a hero and not Luther's pet, his weapon. Fear and anger start stirring in my chest as I take in the space. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, I don't know why Luther is using this room, I don't know why I'm here.

     "Are you okay? Do you want me to go get Conner?" A voice says from next to me, causing my fear to overthrow my anger. I snap my head to the right, being met with an exhausted-looking Bart who's sprawled out in a lounge chair. Out of instinct, I try to tug myself away from him, but I get stopped by restraints around my wrist. "Oh shit, ya, sorry. You kept trying to fight us as we were giving you medical care, so Nightwing put restraints on," Bart says, leaning forward and snapping the restraints off my wrists before placing them on the nightstand. "Nightwing doesn't want them off until you get a psychological scan, but he can fuck off for all that I care."

     I stay silent, frozen in my spot. I am really confused. What is this test supposed to be about? Am I supposed to fight Bart? Is that what Luther wants?

     Bart settles back into his chair, his posture forgotten as he slumps, and his head propped up so he can look at me. His eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks still wet and his breath still hiccupping as he breathes. 

     "Why are you crying?" I ask, turning my attention away from him. My chest is tight, like it used to be when I would look at him; when he was real, when he wasn't just a dream or an illusion for Luther to use against me. This isn't real, Bart isn't real, this is a test. I need to figure out the answer.

     "A lot of reasons," he says, his eyes still burning into the side of my face. He isn't real, this is a test. Luther wants an answer, the correct answer. Focus. "For starters, you're finally safe. I can see you, hear your voice, finally touch you again," he says, leaning forward so most of him is propped up on the bed, next to my legs. I turn my attention back towards him, watching as his hands hover by my face. Is he going to hit me? Scratch me? Break my nose? "Can I touch you?" he asks, his eyes jumping around my face.

     "What?" I ask before I can stop myself. Of course, he can touch me, I don't get a say in it. I don't get a say in anything. People - especially Luther - get to do as they please. I either let them and get it over with, or I get a bigger punishment for trying to stop it.

     "Can I touch you?" He repeats, his hands still and his eyes blinking rapidly in an attempt to push back the growing tears. "I don't... know if you remember, but I promised I would ask before I touched you."

     I do remember that, somewhat. "Oh," I whisper, looking away from him. I do not like this test. It's worse than any of the other ones I've done. I glance at him before focusing on the wall in front of me again. "I don't want to be touched."

     "Okay," he murmurs, dropping his hands to the bed, making sure not to come in contact with me. 

     I snap my head towards him, looking him over, waiting for the punishment for saying no, but nothing comes. Bart just sits there, looking at me, repeatedly blinking even though it doesn't stop the water from dripping down his face. "You're not going to punish me?" I ask slowly, confusion fogging my head. Why isn't he hitting me? Punishing me? Hurting me? I purposely failed the test and yet nothing is happening. How am I supposed to focus on my test if I'm not hurt? I need the pain to remind me this is fake.

     "Of course not. It's your body, if you don't want me touching it, I won't," he answers, leaning back in his chair with his face buried in his hands.

     I watch carefully as he rubs his face and pushes out a big sigh, a quiet scream squeezing out with it. "It's Luther's body," I mumble, scrunching up the bedding in my hands. Luther's body, Luther's pet, Experiment 203, that is who I am, what I am. I am a weapon, not a human.

     "It's your body, Y/N. It belongs to you, it is yours," Bart answers, his tone exhausted but firm. "You are a person, with basic human rights." I look back at the boy next to me, his arm resting across his face as he looks at the ceiling. Tears roll off his jaw, colliding with the chair under him. Why does he keep crying? He gets to see me, big deal, it's not like he cares... right? Maybe this isn't a test, maybe this is real.

     "Bart?" His name feels weird in my mouth after all this time. It feels bittersweet. It almost hurts saying it. 

     "Y/N?" He calls back, his arm dropping from his face and his head lifting to look at me.

     "Is this real or is it another test?" It's dumb to ask that. If it's a test I instantly fail and I'm going to have a long, painful night on that stupid table.

     "This is real," he answers softly, shifting in his chair. "Move over, please - if you want to! You don't have to."

     I look at him for a while, watching him watching me, before scooting over in the bed. Once I'm moved, Bart climbs into the bed next to me, making sure not to touch any part of my body as he settles in beside me. I settle on focusing on the wall again, letting my ears bounce around this place. There's a lot of talking, a lot of crying, throughout this place. Conner and Birdman are yelling at each other, about me, about my restraints. This is real. Bart is real. Everything is real. I settle on focusing on Bart's heart.

     "I don't remember your heart being so fast," I say, turning my attention to him for a second.

     "I'm just nervous," Bart murmurs, his gaze rolling over the room.

     "Why are you nervous?"

     He stays quiet for a while, gaze still running around before settling on me. "I'm nervous about what happened to... you... I'm nervous about how it's going to affect you now that you're back home, back safe, with me... I'm really nervous you don't love me anymore."

     "Do you not love me anymore?" I ask, blinking like Bart was earlier as I feel the tears forming in my eyes. Luther was right, my thoughts were right. Bart doesn't want me anymore. He did move on; he did forget about me. This is just him enforcing that. I was stupid to think for even a second that things were going to be okay, that someone other than Luther was going to care about me again.

     "Of course, I still love you!" Bart yells, causing me to jerk away in response. My eyes snap to him, making it more difficult to not cry. "You have been the only thing I could think of for the past two months. The only thing keeping me going. All my decisions, my actions, have been what I think would be best for you, what would be best to get you back. If I wasn't looking for you, I was curled up in your bed, thinking of you, clinging to your scent, your space, the only part of you I still had."

     Bart's face is scrunched up, eyebrows forward in anger, and hot tears rolling down his face again. He opens his mouth to say something else but ends up turning his head away from me. I sit still, waiting for him to turn back, as my own tears spill over. When he does, his face is relaxed, and his breathing is deep. "I'm... I am sorry for yelling. I am not mad at you, I am mad at the situation, which isn't your fault." Once again, he opens his mouth to say something but ends up closing it again. His jaw rolls for a while the almost silent clicking sound filling my ears. "I really love you and... I am mad that Luther hurt you, and I'm mad I lost you, and I'm mad I couldn't save you sooner. None of which is your fault."

     I let out a hum, turning my head forward, filling my vision with the pale yellow of my bedroom wall again. "I love you too," I whisper, sliding my hand on top of his. Instantly, Bart laces our fingers together. I am safe, I am loved, and this is real. Bart is real. I will be okay.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[lazypanartist]

Heyo! If you're still accepting requests could we possibly get some Bart Allen dating headcanons please?

Of course!

Dating Bart Allen Includes:

Food dates! Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks; you name it, and he's whisking you off for the time being

On that note, he'll run you anywhere you want to go. Wanna see the northern lights? Then grab a coat babe, he'll be there in.. no, wait, he's already at your door

He gets distracted somewhat easily

You've had to teach him across Happy Harbor when you went for a festival

(he found the food!)

Don't worry, he always comes back if you lose him. It just.. might take a while

When on dates, you NEED a meetup spot for if (when) he wanders off

You start using his vocab from the future (Crash, mode/d, etc.) Just kinda. Slipped into your vocab

Always wants to make sure you're okay

You seen thirsty?

Here's a selection of several drinks!

Cold?

He has an extra jacket, just in case

Still cold?

Due to his high metabolism, he's a human space heater. He'll snuggle you ^-^

Seriously, best cuddler

He'll be big or little spoon, whatever you want

He's just. A massive people pleaser

You probably have to tell him to look after himself

The sweetheart grew up in a dystopian future, and then went the hero route

So sometimes, self care days/dates just include you trying to take care of him the way he always takes care of you

[absolutelysmittensimp]

Impulse: We have fun, don't we, (Hero alias)?

Hero!(Name): I've never been more stressed out my whole life.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Set In Stone - (Tim Drake or Bart Allen x Reader) Choose Your Own Love Story

you read that right!

set in stone is back baby!

find the new updated version on my AO3

For a little background, I wrote this 28,087 word fic a summer ago, but the linking broke when tumblr updated. So, I went back and touched up my writing, story boarding, and added a little more juice and love to the story, and it's finally complete!

If you enjoy my headcanons or fics, please be sure to go check it out, drop a comment or some kudos, and tell me what to write next!

[freakingholland]

(Non dc comics mutuals feel free to ignore this)

Okay so let's say that I might have a fic idea and I could post something (actually better than my old tooth rotting, childish fics) after god knows how many years of being on a fanfic hiatus...

EDIT (19/02/2024)

Here's the imagine!

[damianwaynesbelovedsposts]

"Bart " you said, and he could tell by your voice you wanted something from him.

"I want affection, Give me a hug."

"not until you ask nicely, babe."

"I will never talk to you again, Allen" you threatened

 "Do you mean it? It's finally happening?" he joked, You pouted and turned your head once again.

"I'm only joking, babe. Come on now" looping an arm around you and pulling you in close. He was always so warm, you felt safe in his arms.

"Thanks, Bart."

"Don't mention it, babe"

requests are open!

[gemini-sensei]

I'm in the mood for some domestic headcanons. What ideas do y'all have?

Can be fluffy, smutty, angsty; Cobra Kai or Blue Beetle.

[underthe-redhood]

ONE LAST CHANCE PREVIEW

a/n: here’s the first couple of paragraphs of the next chapter that should be out in a few days now!!

—————

INCOMING CALL:     dick :3

     you quickly looked up at bart, very nervous about why dick could be calling. "pick up before it goes to voicemail!" bart panicked.

     "relax, there's no way we got caught," you tried to reassure him but your tone was dripping with anxiety.

     "hey y/n, turns out barbara's not here. she texted saying she got an alert, is everything okay?" he asked.

     this wasn't totally unexpected but nonetheless your heartbeat was speeding up. "oh uh, i can probably go down to the batcave and check?" you offered, hoping he wouldn't take you up on it.

     "no that's okay, we're probably just gonna pick up some donuts and head back. they have blueberry icing, you really like that one don't you?" he suggested.

     "yeah i do, you're the best," you said. saying that out loud made some of the guilt go away, because it reminded you why you were doing all of this.

"anything for you," he chuckled before hanging up. you were a little worried that your plan was going to lead to them having fights, but was that really such a bad thing at this point?

[imdeadinsidesiriuslydead]

Shut Up! | Bart Allen x villain!reader

Bart Allen x fem! Reader

Based off this imagine I made.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Violence. Blood(tiny). Smutty! Just go ahead and read the imagine if you don’t want spoilers. Slight smut. Maybe I’ll write a part 2 with full on smut😏

notes: female reader. Villain reader. Villain name never mentioned. Race or appearance of reader never mentioned.

a/n: dude I was minding my business when this scenario popped into my head and now I just have to share it with the world. Enjoy!

———

Being chained up to a chair with his feet being bound together isn’t how Bart thought he’d spend his Friday night.

He wasn’t even supposed to be in Gotham. He protects Central City with Wally. Kinda. Wally doesn’t really like Bart as a sidekick. He was more of Max Mercury’s sidekick.

Max was probably worried out of his mind. He just really hoped Max wouldn’t show up or try to look for him, or else he’d find something he doesn’t need to know.

Bart has a secret. A secret crush on a certain Batman villain. Ever since he had to fight her with the young justice team, he was smitten.

His favorite pass time is running to Gotham city and foiling her plan before heading off to go hang out with Tim.

She would always catch him, she always did. And he would always let her. He loved it. A game of cat and mouse.

He loved watching her smile in victory as she caught him. He loved watching her integrate him. And he especially loved annoying her.

Like right now. He could vibrate his molecules and get out of the ropes, but what’s the fun in that?

She had caught him by freezing the ground and him falling into a trap she had made. She than knocked him out and tied him to a chair.

She stood in front of him with a scowl. She didn’t enjoy this game as much as he did. Her mask had been removed, giving Bart a few look at her face. She stared him down before smiling.

“Butch you can leave.” You said to your guard standing by the door. He left and closed the door, leaving the room in a dark cast.

The lights from outside the windows cast shadows across your features. The only other light was a small one back behind Bart, giving him the tiniest bit light to see your face.

“Impulse.” You stated “why do you always pop up and ruin everything?” You asked, no malice in your tone, Bart noted. Only curiosity.

“Well when you’re about to do something bad it’s kinda my job to come stop you.” Bart said as he smiled at you.

“Hmm” you hummed as you moved to a table full of weapons.

You grabbed a knife and turned to face him. Bart watched as you walked up to him slowly before leaning down to be at his eye level.

“You know,” you started with a sly smile “usually, I’d let you off with a warning. Maybe a slap on the wrist.” You whispered to him as you raised the knife to his face.

“but today you didn’t just mess up my plan. No.” You whispered with fake sorrow. You dragged the knife against his jaw, causing Bart to let out a breath. “You messed up the Bane’s plan too.”

Bart sucked in a breath. He didn’t know that. Obviously, he could put run Bane, but that didn’t change the fact that he was scared of him.

“Yea so, now I have to teach you a real lesson Impulse. Either with me or Bane. Take your pick.”

“Oh I’d much rather be punished by you.” Bart said as he wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

Your smile turned to an annoyed look. “Suit yourself.” You dug the knife at his neck, not hard enough to break skin but hard enough to hurt.

Bart winced in pain, but another idea popped into his head. Acting like his name, he impulsively took action.

“So what do you do when you’re not trying to kill me?” He asked teasingly. The smirk on his face prevalent.

Your face slipped for a minute before the walls were back up again. “Is that really what you’re asking right now?” You asked dumbfounded.

“Well,” he started staring you right in the eyes, you could finally see the color of them. A nice golden brown. “I figured since your bodyguard wasn’t in here anymore, we could get to know each other a little more.” He smiled seductively.

Your blush was very noticeable, especially since your mask was off. “But- stop trying to distract me from your punishment.” You said sternly, though Bart was not convinced.

“Well I normally wouldn’t let someone tie me up the first official date, but you’re a special exception.” Bart winked. “So, at least tell me about yourself, since I’m being so nice.” He looked at you with faux innocence. You won’t lie, the look on his face was turning you on. You had to figure out a way to have him keep the look on his face.

You quickly remember that Bane would have your head if you didn’t take care of Impulse. Your need for survival trumped the need between your legs.

“That’s a vague question.” You say as you resume moving your knife against his neck, watching the goosebumps that it leaves in its wake.

“Huh?” Bart asked.

“Thats a vague question. Be specific. What did you want to know?” You ask as your knife slowly pierces the skin of his neck.

He hisses at the pain, before almost chocking on air. You moved your head towards his neck and licked the blood off of his neck. Bart stares at you, completely turned on and kinda scared.

You watched as the cut immediately healed itself, leaving no scar. You notice his shocked staring and laugh.

“How about a deal? Every question I answer, you have to answer one of mine. Deal?” You asked as you made the same innocent look he had given you earlier.

He nodded dumbly and you smiled.

“So too fast too furious, what’s your question?” You asked him.

“What’s your name?” He asked, his smile returning.

Your knife continued on its path across his neck going up to his jaw line.

“Y/N” you said as your knife gently touched his jaw line. He breathed out, liking the sensation of it gently touching him. “Your turn.” He tells you.

“Why do you heal so fast?” You asked as he breathed deeply. You were genuinely curious.

“Super fast metabolism.” he breathed as your knife made its way to the end of his suit by his neck.

Your knife gently teared the spandex, revealing more skin to slice at. His skin was incredibly soft. Slightly tan with freckles all over the part of his now exposed shoulder.

“Why are you working for Bane?” He asked. You weren’t really a villain in his eyes. More of an anti hero. You didn’t really harm people. You helped bad guys though, but you didn’t seemed fond of that.

“Cause I have to.” You said, still mesmerized by the goosebumps you were creating on his supple skin.

He figured he can ask you about it another day. Right now he didn’t want anything to stop you from dragging the knife all over him.

“Why do you always come to Gotham? I thought you and the flash protect Central City. That’s like two states away.” You say you start to cut the skin of his shoulder gently.

He breathes out a whine as it hurts. You try not to focus on the way that noise made you feel.

“What do you think sweetheart? Why am I here?” You might have been intimidated by his words if you weren’t meant to be torturing him.

You grabbed him by the hair and pushed his head back fast. He whined again and stared at you in shock.

“I asked you a question, speedy!” You say, giving him a dangerous look.

He stares at you in shock and overwhelmed lust. You smirk and decide to sit on his lap instead of kneeling on the floor.

You let go of his hair and go back you his shoulder. Watching the blood drip down a little. You saw the cut had healed and just to turn him on more, you lean down and lick the blood up his shoulder. You lick a little higher than where the blood stopped just to mess with him.

“Because I wanted to see you.” He states. Blushing madly.

You look up at him, and look through his goggles into his eyes. You saw shame and embarrassment. He’s telling the truth.

You won’t lie, that statement might have made your day, hell, your week. You try to hide the smile on your face but miserably fail. You had a lot of body image issues growing up and were bullied heavily, it was nice to find out someone actually wanted to see you, not just for a business deal.

“Your turn.” You tell him, still a little giddy.

“Why do you always kidnap me?” He asked with a handsome smile.

“You always try to stop me. So why not just stop you before you can?” You say as you pick your knife back up and continue your assault of his skin.

your hand pulls down the fabric a bit that had been cut on his shoulder, revealing part of his chest.

Bart sucks in a breath. Waiting for your next move.

“Why aren’t you actually hurting me?” Bart asked. You looked up at Impulse.

“Do you want me to actually hurt you?” You whisper as your kinda gently trails down from his shoulder.

“No.” He said as the cool knife hits his chest.

“I’m not gonna hurt cause I don’t want to.” You say turning back to work.

“But won’t the henchmen outside notice I’m not hurt?” Bart asked.

“What do you mean?” You asks as you slice a tiny shallow part of his right pec.

Bart makes a small whimper at the sensation, as another better idea pops into his head.

“Like don’t people who are tortured usually scream and make noise?” He asks in a seductive voice.

Your knife stopped moving again and you look at him and see his eyes blown out with lust. Your mind made a decision before you could stop yourself. You leaned down and licked up the blood before dragging your tongue up his shoulder to his neck, before sucking on the skin of his neck.

Bart moaned as he leaned more into your touch. The noise he made went straight to your core.

You pulled back, a tiny bit of blood on the corner of your mouth. Your hands went into Impulses hair and you gently tugged, causing him to leg out another whine. You moved your sitting position so that your legs were straddling his.

“Yea. I suppose they do. You wanna help me make this sound real?” You ask as your hand move onto his face, pushing his goggles up so you can see his eyes.

“Yes.” Bart says as he felt his dick harden against your thigh.

“Good boy.” You say before leaning in to kiss Bart.

——

anyone want a part 2?

Edit: Part 2 here

[dickmedowndc]

Heart Stops - Bart Allen x Meta!Reader

Word Count: 1,731

Summary: The last anyone sees of you, it isn’t good. The fight goes south and any communication with you goes dark the moment the ceiling caves in on top of you. Bart is fast, faster than anyone on his team, but with a bum leg he feels like he won’t be fast enough as he searches for you among the aftermath.

Notes: The request from an anonymous user was for a Spiderwoman like character, but I do not do crossovers or gender specific (if I can help it). So, I gave the reader Spiderverse like powers and made them a meta. There was no prompt after that, so I used another “100 kisses” prompt: #86; “reunion kisses, “I thought you were dead.’”

…★…

It was supposed to be an easy mission. That was what had been murmured between the two of you as you had loaded up alongside your teammates and taken off for your mission. A soft squeeze of your hand in his was the last bit of physical contact that you had with him. 

It was supposed to be easy. 

It never was. 

Granted, you thought as you saw the ceiling give way and come rushing towards you, things never seemed this bad. You tried to move, weaving through jagged stone that cut at your suit and skin where it came in contact with you, but you just weren’t fast enough. The injury to your knee and upper leg significantly slowing you down. As if your entire body wasn’t screaming at you from how you had been tossed around like a rag doll by the enemy between leaping from one wall to another – using an excess of webs and movement. 

Everything was autopilot by this point. The aim of your arm and wrist, the twist of your hips. The world was hazy behind your mask, eyes bleary and unfocused. It was all you could do to just keep chanting to yourself, a repeat reminder that you just had to make it to the entrance of the collapsing building where you could already see the rest of your team. You focused on Bart the best you could, your heart twisting at the state he was in. One of his arms was slung over Wondergirl’s shoulders, supporting his entire weight as his head hung and he limped beside her, glancing around. You weren’t sure what he was searching for until a moment later when he looked in your direction and stopped, leaning forward like he was going to take off running and come get you. 

There was a voice, rasped and worn, yelling out for him to stay put. A moment later you realized it was your own. A desperate plea to try and keep your partner safe. He was in no shape to run, and if you were going to get caught under the rubble, you were going to make sure that he was a safe distance away. He wouldn’t be fast enough like this, you knew it, especially not if he was dragging you out with him. 

All you could think of was the one last swing you needed to throw yourself out. Just before your wrist was yanked back violently and your whole body lurched backwards, right towards the center of the chaos. One of the men you had been fighting earlier hadn’t escaped, too focused on taking one of you down with him – and since you were the only one left, his sights were set on making sure you would never walk back out alive. 

It was terrifying, you thought, mind spinning too fast to really comprehend that you needed to move from the building raining down upon you as your body hit the stone floor and metal scraps. 

It was terrifying to watch, and Bart had ripped himself away from Wondergirl before the stone had even encased you. But with his leg busted all the way up to his hip he collapsed almost immediately, grabbed by Beast Boy just in time. He wanted to scream your name, but his voice was caught in his throat, and nothing more than a garbled cry came out. 

Everyone stood still for a moment, but that was all the time to pass before everyone who could move was lunging forward and heading for the rubble. Nobody said a word. Nobody needed to. They had all seen roughly the last spot you had landed, and really it was all the information that they needed. 

Someone, Terra, Bart realized absently, was putting in a call for backup. “One down” was all he heard before he limped forward, determined to find you, even if it meant he would have to dig all night. 

He would. Without a second thought, Bart would. Just like he knew that you would do the same. 

It quickly became frustrating, however. His arms and hands could move just as fast as before, but he couldn’t get his feet to work alongside him. Barry was off world, so that wasn’t an option at the moment, and Jay likely wouldn’t be told. But this was time sensitive. You could take a beating, Bart knew that, but you were already so tired. 

He had kept an eye on you through the fight, moving you himself when he could. But it was clear just how quickly you had been injured and worn down. 

And Bart feared that if they couldn’t move the stone fast enough, that super strength wouldn’t matter. If it even mattered now. 

It was a thought he wanted to tear apart immediately. It sat like bile in his throat. That devastating little whisper of “it’s too late.” 

But he wasn’t going to accept that. You had a family to go home to. The two of you had a date that weekend – watching bad retro movies and eating junk food until the morning light streamed in. You had things that you wanted to do. And Bart wanted to see them happen. So that voice in his head was just going to need to be wrong. He was going to be fast enough. And you were going to be okay. 

You had to be. 

Bart didn’t even register the arrival of Superman. Not until the first boulder went crashing down behind them; it startled him as he looked up, bewildered just like the rest of his team. It seemed to be the call just before the rest of the League arrived. But as much of a blessing as it seems to be, Bart finds himself being pulled away by Black Canary a short few moments later to tend to his leg before it has time to heal back fully, before they can set it right. 

So, Bart can’t see you, can’t see anything outside, when he hears over the commlink that they found you. That you’re unresponsive. And after that everything seems to go by in a blur as they rush you back to the medical wing through boom tube, because your chances are slim without immediate intervention. 

That is how the next three days go. Bart barred from the room while you recover, still in critical condition. It doesn’t stop him from camping out in front of the door, however, his own leg long since healed and nothing to keep him on bed rest. 

Unable to convince him otherwise, and your status slowly ticking upwards, the Leaguers charged with your recovery finally relent, allowing Bart at your bedside where he promptly refuses to move, keeping a hawk's eye on your vitals. This at least placates the speedster, for the time being, but everyone knows it won't be better until you finally wake up. 

You’re still a long way off from being better, so when Bart feels you squeeze his hand, waking him from his half-asleep state, he thinks little of it. Until you do so again, this time refusing to let go as you let out a pitiful groan. 

He’s sat up straight in an instant. “Take it easy, hot shot.” 

His voice is enough to stir you, but you still look comical squinting at him in the dim lights. In your defense, you felt like you had just been hit by a truck. Or had a ceiling collapse on top of you. “I feel terrible,” you groan, your one free hand barely working enough for you to cover your eyes. 

“You’ve had better days.” 

You can hear the way Bart’s voice cracks, that little sniffle – and light be damned – you pull your arm away to take a good long look at him. He has dark bags under his eyes, and you can see old tear tracks on his cheek. More importantly, you can see the fresh ones threatening to fall. It has you breathless for a moment, your heart tight as you take in the way your partner looks so small in front of you. A rarity. One you’re happy to not subject him to on a regular basis. “That bad?” 

Bart sniffles once more, looking down at where your hand lays in his before he covers your own completely with his other. “You gave us plenty of scares these last few days. I couldn’t even come in here.” 

It breaks your heart to see him like this, and you do your best to add a bit more pressure where your hands are linked. “I’m awake now though. I’m gonna be okay.” Your words don’t seem to get through to him for the moment, so you tug at his hand, trying to get him to look you in the eye. “Bart, baby, what’s wrong?” 

The breath he lets out is choked, and it takes another minute before he can get his words out, practically spilling onto the bed next to you as the relief finally takes hold. “I thought you were dead.” 

It catches you off guard, but despite the pain you never even consider shoving him away when he drapes himself on top of you. It feels right. Feels safe. Even if you can feel the way he tenses, trying not to shake. “Bart?” 

“I really thought you were dead. When nobody could get to you.” His voice raises for a millisecond, but when you flinch from the way it makes your head throb, he manages to get it back under control. “When I couldn’t get to you.” 

All you can do is hold him for a moment and let him get himself under control – he hates crying in front of others and you know it, so you pretend that you don’t see it. But when the shaking has subsided, at least for that second, you manage to catch his eye. “I’m not going anywhere now.” 

Bart stalls for a moment before flashing that loving little grin that he gives you when he’s trying to make you both feel better, before nodding his head in agreement and leaning forward. 

You might be sore, but you waste no time in closing the distance to kiss your speedster. After all, you have a few days' worth of kisses to plant on him, until you really see that sunshine smile you love so much.