#soft!barry

[tweetybaird]

He’s Just A Baby

Summary: KookQueen!Reader x Pogue!JJ Maybank + x DrugDealer!Rafe (he’s dating Barry and I will not take no for an answer, except you can’t rly tell in this fic cause i was too focused on JJ/Rafe). JJ has an argument with reader and runs off, he goes to Barry’s searching for drugs (nothin too crazy just some addy and weed) but is denied because you told Rafe and Barry not to give him anything, he has a breakdown and Rafe has to take over the role of Dom until you get there. You and JJ go home and have emotional make-up sec till he sleeps (pt. 2). Okai Bai

CW: Dom!Reader, Sub!JJ, Crybaby!JJ, Mommy Kink (just a little tho), not daddy KINK but there is usage of the word daddy- yknow?, i think it’s little space? idk if it rly is but he’s like DEEP into subspace if not (somebody educate me pls i searched for hours how to describe what happens in this fic and i found nothing), Rafe (unwarranted) doms JJ but it’s only to calm him down and nothing sexual happens, lemme know if i missed anything *OPTIONAL* IN PART 2 {Overstim, Riding, Dacryphilia, Slapping, Falling asleep during sex, the pogues are kinda assholes but only for a sec,}

(this is mostly rafe x jj x barry but i pinky promise part 2 has more x reader if y’all want that. oh also there’s no gold in this AU, Rafe is sober, and everybody gets along)

“I mean honestly JJ! What the fuck were you thinking?! It’s like you want us to break up!”

The words wouldn’t leave the boys mind, bouncing off the sides of his skull and repeating over and over, seeming louder each time. Tears were pouring down his face, though it was hard to tell with the rain soaking his body. JJ was running. Away from you. He never thought he’d run again, his dad was dead and he’d been living with you for two years now. Originally you’d lived in an apartment paid for by your parents, but since you’ve become CEO of their company (per their retirement), you’ve bought your own home. A quaint little house with a pier leading right to the beach. It was JJ’s sanctuary. You are his sanctuary.

He couldn’t even remember what he’d done at this point. All he knew is you were angry and he was scared. He could feel his mind fuzzing over, brain fighting to pull him into subspace to avoid the panic attack making itself known. But JJ ignored the call of the fuzzy headspace, his bare feet coming to a halt, right outside Barry’s home.

He stormed up to the door, banging on it with his fist. The tears were still pouring from his eyes, but he made no noise, and his body was ram rod straight, so that if you couldn’t see his tears, you’d have no idea he was crying. “What the fuck??” Barry snatched open his door, the loud knocking forcefully coming to a stop. Rafe stood behind the older man, arms crossed and a concerned look covering his features, “Jay?”

“Barry you gotta gimme somethin’ man,” JJ whimpered, pushing past the man and into the house, plopping down on the brand new couch - courtesy of Rafe. “Nuh uh, nope,” Barry denied him immediately, very fond of the life he still had. “Your old lady would murder me if I gave you anythin’, you gotta leave. Now”

JJ evaporated at the words, slumping into the couch, his headspace finally winning over. The blonde sobbed, pulling his knees up to his chest, arms holding them tight as he hid his face. “Mama’s gon’ be so mad at me!” His cries shook his whole body, trembling from the cold, anxiety of getting in trouble, and sobs that he couldn’t seem to stop. Rafe’s protective side kicked in immediately.

“Bear get me water please. Ice cold. And in one of those sippy cups we keep for your nieces,” Rafe softly ordered, sitting down on the couch next to JJ. The younger boy was now rocking himself back and forth, fingers intertwining in his hair and pulling on the strands. “Baby,” Rafe began, voice soft but loud enough that JJ could hear over his cries. “Can I touch you dewdrop? Hm? Just want a hug,” Rafe began, and when JJ didn’t respond, instead pulling harder, he continued, hesitant and quiet, “Can daddy hold his little boy for a minute?” That got the boys attention.

JJ’s cries stopped immediately, his entire body freezing. His arms slowly moved, knees slipping down, until finally, JJ showed his face. “Daddy?” It was barely a whisper, and if Rafe wasn’t looking right at the blonde, he probably wouldn’t have heard it. “Yeah, little dewdrop,” He began, slowly opening his arms so as not to startle the shaky boy before him. “Can daddy hold you? Might make you feel better?”

Barry walked quietly into the room, two cups in hand. One carried a sippy cup, filled with the ice water Rafe requested, and he sat it gently on the table. The other held a baby bottle, filled to the brim with what he called ‘baby sleeper’, Barry’s own concoction of warm milk, condensed milk, vanilla extract, and sugar (and a tiny sprinkle of melatonin, but only a little, he doesn’t want to drug his friends). The older man had created this when he realized just how many of his friends were submissive, some coming to him when they need to clear their head.

Both men are startled when JJ leaps forward, burying his face into Rafe’s chest as he climbs in his lap, straddling the Kooks thighs. JJ goes limp as soon as he gets comfortable, head pressed firm against Rafe’s left pec, arms hanging limply by his sides as he slumps against the larger man. “Dada,” he mumbles, smacking his lips as he begins to babble babyish nonsense.

“Yeah, dewy,” Rafe began, reaching out for the milk rather than the water when he sees the state JJ is in. “C’mere little one, daddy’s gotchu.” Rafe pulled the boy closer, laying back against the arm of the couch, laying JJ against his side and supporting his wobbly head with his arm. Barry stepped forward, “Hey little rapunzel,” he murmured, smiling softly when JJ giggled at the nickname. Barry handed Rafe the bottle, watching as the taller man pressed the nipple to JJ’s lips. The small boy watched Rafe closely, eyes tracking his every movement. Rafe was patient, simply rubbing the nipple of the bottle over JJ’s lips, waiting for the boy to notice it, milk spilling out a bit and lightly coating his lips. As soon as he realized what daddy was doin, JJ’s mouth popped open eagerly, the nipple slipping inside, the sweet taste of ‘baby sleeper’ instantly flooding his senses.

Barry stepped away once the boys were settled, pulling out his phone to call his close friend. She answered immediately. “Hey, Ma-“ The man began to speak, immediately being cut off. “Barry! Oh thank goodness, is he with you??! Please I can’t find JJ!” Barry lowered his voice, shushing her softly, “Yeah he’s here, Rafe’s got him down. You on the way?” Barry listened carefully, hearing your distressed sniffles and the way you took a deep breath, he could almost see you putting up your walls. “Yeah, just give me a couple hours please? Can you watch him? I just- I can’t do this right now I need a minute.” Barry assured the girl immediately, “No problem, Ma, take your time,” He mumbled, glancing over at the boys on his couch. “I’ve got him.”

Barry walked back over to the men, watching Rafe support JJ’s head with his bicep, the smaller boy’s body gone completely limp. The blonde stared wide-eyed up at Rafe, who was telling a fairytale, Rapunzel, from what Barry could tell. Every once in a while Rafe would have to stop, his pinky coming up to tap the young boy’s cheek and wipe the spilling milk off, reminding JJ to continue drinking instead of just letting it fill his mouth.

While JJ was distracted, Barry had grabbed some of his own pajama pants, quickly but quietly pulling JJ’s wet jeans off of his body and replacing them with the comfier item of clothing. Barry begrudgingly pulled JJ away from Rafe, just long enough to remove his sopping wet shirt, but the boy sobbed like it was pure torture. “Daddy! Wan’ baba. Daddy tell him no. Sto’ bear please! No more, wan’ daddy! S’op it, stop! Daddy!” The blonde only calmed when Rafe pulled him into his arms once more, chest now bare, having removed his own shirt in believing that skin-on-skin would benefit the smaller boy. “Sh, sh, sh. Enough of that now little one. Barry was only trying to help, you say thank you. Now c’mere, daddy’s gotchu. My little dewdrop, sweet dewy.” JJ went limp once more, head bobbing until Rafe propped it up against his bicep. The older man fought the urge to giggle as JJ stared up at him starry-eyed once more, completely in a daze. Rafe brought the bottle to JJ’s lips, rubbing the nipple over them once more to gain his attention, but the boy didn’t realize what he was meant to do until Rafe tapped the bottle against his lips gently, his mouth opening wide to take it. 

Soon, JJ is fast asleep, the bottle is replaced with a baby blue pacifier, and the boy is moved to the bedroom. His eyes flutter and he whines for a bit after being laid on the bed, harshly sucking on the paci, kicking his legs out and flailing his arms in a mini tantrum, but after some tummy rubs from Rafe and words of mumbled praise by Barry, he relaxed once more. The men lay him on his side, Rafe taking the front and Barry the back. After a while of comfortable silence, they too fall asleep, all three of the men snoring softly.



[seasonofhorror]

THE ADDAMS FAMILY

1991, dir. Barry Sonnenfeld

[eloquentlytired]

soft barry sloane YOU HAVE MY HEART !!

I love his insta lives so much 🥹🩷🌸 I could hear him yap abt music forever

[allthedesiredusernamesaretaken]

... cover of a magazine ...

Soft Landing

🎨 Barry Blitt

[marvelsgirl616]

💭: barry watching rafe sleep while working out, knowing he’s stressed out and wanting to make sure to always be near rafe in case he has a nightmare…💭

[itsalliny0urhead]

Faster Than Fevers (Barry Allen x Reader)

You’re sick. Feverish. Miserable. Barry Allen is the most attentive boyfriend in existence.

barry allen x reader

You knew you were sick when Barry stopped teasing you.

No smug remarks. No playful eyebrows. Just soft eyes and the gentlest hands imaginable tucking you into bed like you might dissolve if he moved too fast.

Which was ironic, really.

Because Barry Allen always moved fast.

But not with you.

Not when you were like this—pale, weak, sweating through your pajamas and shivering under three blankets. Not when you could barely lift your head without groaning.

Not when he was scared.

He didn’t say it, of course.

He never did. Not the way most people would.

But you’d been together long enough to know what fear looked like on Barry Allen.

It wasn’t panic. It was quiet.

It was the way he slowed his steps when he walked into your bedroom. The way he held your tea like it was something fragile. The way he’d pressed a hand to your forehead and murmured, “You’re burning up,” and then didn’t let go for five whole minutes.

The way he never left your side without promising, “I’ll be right back.”

Like you’d slip away while he wasn’t looking.

You’re half-asleep when he comes back this time—arms full, hair windblown, still dressed in sweats and a hoodie that definitely wasn’t his when you fell asleep (Cisco’s? Maybe? You’re too feverish to care).

He sets a tray down on your nightstand, all soft clinks and quiet care. You blink up at him, dazed.

“Soup,” he says gently. “Tea. Ginger chews. Two kinds of cough drops. And—” he leans closer, grinning, “a new thermometer. Because I know the old one lies to me.”

You huff a tired laugh. “You bought a new thermometer?”

He shrugs, clearly unrepentant. “I may have stolen it from STAR Labs.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m in love,” he replies, kneeling beside the bed. “It’s a terminal condition.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart squeezes.

Barry reaches up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. You lean into his touch instinctively.

“How’s the fever?”

“Still awful.”

He hums, reading your face. “Headache?”

You nod.

“Sore throat?”

You nod again.

He kisses your forehead softly, then mumbles, “Don’t move.”

Before you can ask why, he’s gone.

Gone-gone. Speedster blur gone.

You blink. He’s back three seconds later holding—

“A cool rag,” he says proudly, tucking it behind your neck like he’s just performed a miracle. “Dampened to exactly 74°F.”

You squint at him.

“I used my watch,” he explains.

You sigh. “You’re gonna set the bar so high for other men it’s gonna mess with the timeline.”

He smirks. “Good. Let them fear me.”

You open your mouth to tease him again but dissolve into a coughing fit. It racks through your chest, makes your eyes water. Barry’s there instantly, hand rubbing slow, soothing circles between your shoulder blades, whispering the whole time:

“I’ve got you. Breathe. I’ve got you.”

And when you finally go still, exhausted and slumped against him, he whispers something even softer.

“I hate seeing you like this.”

You rest your cheek against his collarbone. “I hate feeling like this.”

“I know.”

His arms stay wrapped around you as you drift again, body warm but safe, heart fluttering slow under the press of his.

Barry sits behind you in bed, legs on either side of yours, your blanket-swaddled body resting against his chest like a human marshmallow. You’re tired, overheated, and grumpy, but he’s determined to get you to eat something before you pass out again.

So now? He’s got a spoon in one hand and your hair tucked behind your ear with the other.

“C’mon,” he coaxes gently, bringing the spoon to your lips. “Just one more bite.”

You groan. “No more. I’m a sick little sack of soup now. I’m done.”

“You’ve had, like, six spoonfuls.”

“Which is, like, five more than I wanted.”

He chuckles softly, pressing his nose into your hair. “You’re dramatic.”

“Says the man who sped across town for three brands of cough drops.”

He shrugs. “Your suffering makes me reckless.”

You laugh—quietly. It hurts your throat. But it’s real.

Once he’s finally convinced you to sip some tea, he sets everything aside and settles in again. His arms wrap around you automatically, blanket and all, his hands rubbing lazy circles over your ribs through the fabric.

“Feel a little better?” he asks.

You nod against his shoulder. “Warm. Full. Safe.”

He presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“That’s kinda my whole brand.”

You don’t mean to fall asleep.

You just sort of drift.

Your head tucked under his chin. His hands never leaving you. The sound of his heartbeat steady in your ear, rhythmic and grounding.

And in that hazy, half-conscious space between dreaming and waking, you murmur:

“I think I wanna marry you.”

It’s soft. So soft you almost don’t hear it yourself.

But Barry goes still.

You’re too far gone to notice—eyes closed, breath even, fever making the world heavy and slow.

But he hears it.

He feels it.

And god, he’s never been so in love with anything in his life.

He holds you a little tighter. Presses a kiss to your temple. And whispers, almost inaudibly:

“Yeah, babe. I think I wanna marry you too.”

[sky-is-the-limit]

𝙿rice 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜.

𝙸𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔, 𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚢, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎.

𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 ��𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚝𝚑. 𝙷𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎.

𝙷𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚗𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚎𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜, 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚌𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚜, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢.

𝚂𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚗𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗, 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜.. 𝙷𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚑, 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎.

𝙷𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎. 𝚈𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚛, 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚑𝚖?" 𝙷𝚎'𝚍 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚖𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚊𝚛, 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚝𝚑. 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝙸𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎'𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

[rotteneldritchhorror]

Rafe is two for two falling in love with a poor/working class shorter Latine with shoulder length dark wavy/curly hair who helped him like once before he fell hard and who don’t just see him as some rich kook business man

Babe I’m starting to think you have A Type. And a very specific one

[lore-of-mobius]

Is The Murder Of Sonic The Hedgehog Canon?

The answer is sorta of and maybe. So... In the Bumblekast for October 9th, 2024 aka Amy finds The LOVE Note?! | BumbleKast at 9:17 Ian Flynn implies it could be canon and defaults to it being a soft canon game.

This would mean The Murder Of Sonic The Hedgehog is either in the realm of possibly canon or elements of it are canon while other elements or even the game aren't canon. It could go either way with no real clear answer to it.

On a related note the Conductor and is wife and child alongside Barry the Quokka have all shown up in IDW which is canon, though the events of The Murder Of Sonic The Hedgehog are never referenced to my knowledge.

However, Evan Stanley says it's not canon.

[filezitos]

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days?

[s1utforfictionalmen]

Honestly Rafe was just an emotional sad boy that was always told to “man up” or “nut up” when really all he needed was a good hug and to be told he was enough, and frankly, it breaks my heart.

[confused-wanderer]

Kid flash and robin challenge them saying they’re better friends and therefore a better dynamic.

Barry and batman’s overly competitive nature has kicked in and now they’re all in danger

[taub-truther]

petition for Barry Klemper and Elliot Springer (or undergrad Wilson and Taub, whatever) to be crossover boyfriends who steal each other's clothes sometimes

(images of RSL via this post 🫡)

[totallynotashieldagent]

Please some of the sub! Barry Allen that was implied in your other smut 🙇‍♀️ 🙇‍♀️ thank you so much

BABY GIRL I GOT YOU!!!

also thanks for requesting!! <33 here's a soft domestic cuddle

These are the days when Barry is grateful of you. The heavy days, the hard days, the days when everything is too much and even running can't help him.

So here he is. Home. Their home. In bed. His body curled around yours. His face buried in between your tits, taking deep breaths as if your musk would fix the world. Would fix him.

"Shh... It's okay baby." You said softly, your nails dancing over his spine, making him sigh and shiver. His arms tightened around your waist and you scratched his scalp.

"It was bad-" He whispered. "I tried but I almost wasn't fast enough. I almost-" He dry swallowed the storm of emotions that was brewing in him. You nodded, cradling the back of his head. "There was this girl- I almost missed her. If I'd- If even a microsecond, baby. I-" "But you were fast enough." You kissed his hair and temple. "You saved her and you didn't get her. You did good. You are good."

"What if-" Barry started again but you quited him with a soft kiss.

"You will always be fast enough." You whispered softly.

He pulled back a little, looking up at you. His blue eyes shining brightly. This was it. Beneath the masks of The Flash and Barry Allen. This was her man. Soft Barry. Kind Barry. The Barry only you knew. Not strong, not a hero. A simple man, in need of love.

"Hold me until I stop thinking about it." He mumbled against your neck.

"Wouldn't let even if the world was ending." You traced his spine.

He shuddered and laughed, "Might have to let go then. So, I can do my job."

You smiled and shook your head. "But what if we're in the middle of a scene and you're strapped down?"

He groaned, immediately rutting a little against your thigh like a puppy begging for attention. "Fuck- Don't say that." He whined.

"Look at you. So easily a mess." You ran your fingers through his hair and tugging suddenly. Barry gasped, his eyes rolling back. "Such a pretty mess." You hummed, seeing his blue turn black with need and want.

"Please-" He whimpered. "What can I do? Tell me what I- Fuck- What can I do for you?"

You smiled sweetly, pushing his boxers just enough to spring his cock free. "Already so needy." You teased softly, your index tracing from base to tip and then back again. Barry mumbled soft please please- "Shhh... I've got you baby. I'll always have you."

"What can I have?" He begged, looking at you wantonly.

"You think you earned my pussy today?" You asked and he quickly shook his head. "But you still wanna cum, yeah?" He nodded. "Want options?" He nodded again. "You want my thighs or my feet?"

"I can't pick both, can I?" Barry asked cheekily, making you giggle and shake your head. "Fuck- Okay, okay- Want thighs. Please?" He asked, his mouth wet and needy against your neck.

You nodded, laying back. "Come on, pretty boy. Get us in po-" The word wasn't even out of your mouth but he moved with lightening speed and suddenly, he was under you, his hands holding your hips tightly, his dick moving between your thighs, the tip poking out just under your ass, making an obscene squelching sound.

"Oh... That's it. Good boy. Doing so well." You purred, your hands holding his neck, your nails digging into his neck. "Keep going baby. Make a mess for me."

Barry groaned and moved faster. "Can- Can I cum more than- than once?"

You knew that with his stamina, hyperspermia, and the speed force, he could do endlessly. So you had to pick a number. Any number.

"Yeah. You- How many people did you save today?" You asked, controlling your own want to pull his cock into your cunt.

"Sl- Slow day, today, baby. Only- only seven-" He moaned, already dangerously close to cumming.

"You can cum seven times." You breathed heavily.

"Fuck! Oh god- Thank you- Thank you-" He baddled as his dick moved at a faster and faster pace between your thighs.

The noises got filthier and his moans filled the air.

By the time he took a breath, your thighs were coating and dripping. The sheets were soaked through and somehow, unshockingly, his cum was shot to far, it was over the floor too.

"The cleaning lady is gonna hate us in the morning." He whispered, finally stopping his motions fully.

.

.

.

.

Drabble Masterlist

[maniccherrygirl]

I need a hot bf to drink summer wine with 🍒🍷

[marvelsgirl616]

the way he looks at barry 🥺