#Bart Allen x reader

[imdeadinsidesiriuslydead]

Quickly | Bart Allen x reader

Rivals/enemies to lover (if you squint)

not requested

warnings: innuendos, cursing, that’s it. Not proof read

summary: training after a really bad mission.

You couldn’t believe Bart. He had the perfect opportunity to catch Slade but went too fast and slipped.

he went too fast.

You didn’t know what is was about him, but ever since you joined young justice, you couldn’t stand him.

he worked off of impulses. I mean you should have guessed that, it is his name.

He didn’t stick to the plan, and effectively ruined it.

even after a few days it bothered you, it was still ingrained into memory. It haunted you. It pissed you off.

HE pissed you off.

Red tornado had scheduled sparing training for the team today. You had hoped you would get paired with Anita or Kon.

But as Red called out your names, your heart sank. You looked over at Bart. He smirked and you wanted to die.

You went into the practice room and got into fighting positions. You prepared yourself for him to hit you at light speed and try to predict where he would appear next before he could land another punch.

As he ran up to you, you tried to shield yourself, but he punches landed on your middle sections. Knocking the wind out of you for a second.

you quickly recovered, successfully locating his next move and blocking his punch and striking him in the stomach and jaw. He landed on the floor.

You stood in victory. Glad to have won round one.

Bart snared as he got up. He wasn’t gonna lose again. He wasn’t gonna be what Wally said he was. And he knew just how to push your buttons.

“You know, you should have tried that move on Slade, maybe he wouldn’t have put you out of the running and you could have stopped him before I had to fix your mess.” He said with a shit eating grin.

“My mess? You mean your mess.” You shot back. “You slipped and let him get away.”

“You could have gotten him on the mission before that. But is it only when I mess up that it’s wrong?” Impulse yelled back.

“he knocked me out last time!” You yelled

“Then you weren’t quick enough!” Bart yelled as he got into his fighting position again.

“You ditched the plan, you slipped, and the criminal got away!” You yelled as you charged him.

he dodged your attack, speeding up and hitting you in the legs, knocking you off balance.

”I saw an opportunity and I took it! Is that so hard to understand?” Bart screamed as he knocked you over again.

You tried to charge him again, but quickly zoomed away to the other side of the room. You ran again but he was father again. You grumbled in frustration.

“What am I too fast for you?” He asked with a smirk.

“Too fast to play fair.” You snap as you get into a ready position for round three

“Oh you want fair? Fine have it your way. I’ll slow down for you.” He laughed.

“No don’t slow down, I’ll finish you off.” You said as you grounded you feet.

“that a threat or a promise?” He asked with a smirk.

“both asshole.” You snap. He runs forward and you two collide.

he pushes against your frame trying to knock you over with his sheer strength.

“Don’t worry, I’ll finish this quickly.” He smiles as he pushes against you harder.

“bet that’s not the only thing you finish quickly.” You shot back, smiling when his grin dropped.

he ran back and lean forward at super speed trying to hit you with everything he’s got.

You block his punches and manage to get a few in before you advance forward and knock him over, not before he grabs you by the waist and drags you down with him.

you land on top of him, both breathing to heavy to say a thing. You pull back and look into his eyes to find his golden eyes already staring back.

You becoming hyper aware of how close your chest is to his. How your breathing becomes synched and how your body fit perfectly on top of his.

“Well,” Bart starts staring into your eyes with his clouded with someone you hadn’t seen before. “You got me on my back, now what?” He asked. His face was soft, almost innocent like. Almost.

you lean into closer to his face as his breathing hitched. His puffy hair falling around his head like a halo. His eyes falling soft as he gazed up into yours, as if he was mesmerized.

you lean close to his ear as he eyes fell closed “I’ll finish this quickly.” You whispered back.

He had no time to register what you said, not after you landed a punch square in his face,knocking him out cold.

——

requests are open!

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"MY GIRLFRIEND GETS SO DEPRESSED"

"Babe, look! I got us tickets to that new movie, the one about the creepy possessed girl.' Bart laughed, running up the stairs to your room in Wayne Manor, only to stumble over clothes and unfinished knitting projects, plus messed-up plushies and yarn balls of all colors. Then he felt the ghostly cold wind—oh. He knew what this meant. "Baby?" He walks over bundles of clothes until he gets to your bed, seeing a purple fuzzy blanket over your body. Soft whines come from your lips; he hears the whispers of spirits ghosting his ear. Bart shakes his head; his long hair wipes his face. "We don't have to watch the movie if you don't want to. We can stay home and watch a different movie, or maybe even a Hallmark movie; I know how much you hate 'em." He mumbles, dropping his feet gently, heading on your bed, looking up at you with puppy eyes. "Or I can make you something to eat. You know I make great pick-me-up food. I could make ribs, or if you're feeling something sweet, I saw some Betty Crocker cake mix in the kitchen. I could make you a crazy birthday cake, even though it's not your birthday." He laughs. But you still didn't budget for him pouting. He gets up on your bed, pushing the pillows and knitted plushies (both yours and his) to the side, kicking his shoes off, and scurrying gently onto your bed. "But we don't have to do anything; you don't have to do anything if you don't want to." Bart snuggles up next to you, taking the blanket off to see your cute little face. Sleepy and sad, your locs are all over the place, and your amulet is barely glowing in the dark dusk. He nuzzles your neck, gently humming sweetly. "I can stay here with you all you want all day and night and -" He was about to continue when you pulled the blanket up around yourselves. He laughed, seeing your amulet glow soft purple and feeling your warmth under the blanket. "Can we stay here?" you asked softly. "All night long, baby," he said, kissing your lips with the sweetest and softest of care, making you smile. "Really?" He kisses you once again,"Really!"

[krisyona1994]

  You know what I want to see in a fic, or one of those head canon dots, point things; for Young Justice boys, even some of the girls? 

Mostly for Bart, Tim, Wally, Grayson, and Kaldur. 🥺 (not going to lie, mostly Bart and Tim.)

  I want multiple reactions from some of the guys of a MALE Reader, who always wears very loose, comfortable outfits when on missions. The outfit never showed their figure, until one day they got to see it in training. Only a few times has the wind blown hard enough, or them moving a certain way to dodge, do they see a hint of them having a small waist. I'm just imagining them getting a slight blush or a deep crimson, lol.

  So, one day, their mentor brings them in for one of the group training sessions. They come in wearing a form fitted sports shirt, sleeves down to mid-biceps. Maybe loose shorts, with the leggings underneath, hugging them the right way to show how tiny their waist is, but nice curves and form everywhere else. Like legs toned and a curve at the waist. Like a slight, slender hourglass figure. 

  A strong reminder that they are a hero. Also, this answers why they move so fast and dodge with a smooth grace.

[mintyys-blog]

WALK IN | bart allen x scarlet witch! reader

DC MASTERLIST | WARNINGS:

Late nights were your sanctuary.

Everyone else was asleep or distracted. That meant no awkward glances, no whispered fears about your magic, and no pressure to “perform” or “control” the chaos humming beneath your skin.

Tonight, you stood barefoot in front of your mirror, crimson magic swirling around your fingertips. You narrowed your eyes and concentrated. A shimmer of red energy danced down your body like liquid silk, wrapping around you—clothing melting and reshaping like clay.

From a simple tank top and shorts to a glam, high-collared black bodysuit… then into a flowy crimson gown with gold embroidery. You admired your reflection, watching the fabric shift and fade like a dream. A delighted smile tugged at your lips. This was the first time the magic hadn’t just exploded on you.

“Okay, okay… let’s try something fun,” you whispered to yourself.

Your fingers flicked again, and suddenly the gown dissolved into a black lace corset and thigh-high stockings—something scandalous and definitely not mission-approved.

You let out a surprised giggle and did a little twirl in front of the mirror, the lace hugging you just right. Your cheeks were flushed, but for once, it was fun being powerful. You felt beautiful.

Then— BANG. The door flew open.

“I brought cookies—!”

Bart Allen stood in your doorway, holding a plate stacked high with gooey chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the nearest bodega.

And he. Froze. Mouth open. Tray trembling. His eyes locked on you.

You shrieked and spun around, hands glowing red as you panicked. With a sharp snap of your fingers, the lingerie vanished, replaced by a hoodie and sweatpants in less than a second.

Silence.

You slowly turned back to face him, wide-eyed and red-faced. “Heh… I thought I locked the door.”

Bart blinked. “You did not.” A beat “But I’m not complaining.”

You groaned and covered your face. “Oh my god.”

Bart, ever the speedster, was already across the room in a flash, cookies still in hand, smirking like the devil.

“So… magic wardrobe?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “What else can you conjure? Dragons? More lingerie?”

You shot him a glare. “Leave.” He held out the plate. “Not even for cookies?”

You hesitated. Then, begrudgingly, took one. Bart grinned. “That outfit, though,” he said around a bite, “you could’ve worn that to dinner and I wouldn’t have blinked.”

“You just blinked for like thirty seconds.” He winked. “Exactly.” Your face was on fire, but… damn it, you were smiling.

The next day, Bart was different.

Not like, suspiciously different—he still cracked jokes, still zipped around like a sugar-fueled tornado, still offered you snacks every time you were in the same room. But now? Now he couldn’t look at you without biting back a grin.

And you knew exactly what image was stuck in his brain.

“Stop smirking,” you hissed as the team gathered for a quick mission briefing. Nightwing was talking, but Bart kept glancing over with that stupid, smug expression.

“I’m not smirking,” he whispered, leaning closer, “I’m appreciating.”

You shot him a death glare.

He just shrugged, whispering, “Hey, it’s not my fault you do magic cosplay in your free time. I just walked in on the wrong wardrobe change.”

You smacked his arm.

Later that night, after the mission ended (and after you definitely saved his ass with a reality-warping hex), you were walking back to your room when he appeared right next to you like a ghost.

“Okay, wait,” he said, cutting you off with that playful urgency only he could get away with. “Real talk.”

You turned to face him, arms crossed, but not nearly as annoyed as you wanted to be. “What?”

“I was gonna say sorry for barging in on you yesterday. But like… you weren’t mad.”

“I was embarrassed.” You looked away, heat crawling up your neck. “There’s a difference.”

“But you smiled.” You hesitated.

He stepped a little closer, voice lowering just a bit. “You smiled. You were having fun with your powers for once. You looked…free.”

His tone changed then, more sincere. “You should do that more. Smile. Be soft. Let yourself feel good.”

Your breath hitched. For a moment, there wasn’t a team. There wasn’t a mission. Just the two of you in the hallway, red magic still clinging to your fingertips, and Bart Allen—so sweet it made you ache—staring at you like you hung the stars.

“You don’t scare me,” he added, quiet. “Not even a little.”

“Maybe you should be,” you whispered.

“I’ve seen what you can do,” he said, stepping close enough that you could smell the vanilla sugar of whatever he’d eaten last. “You tear through reality like it’s paper. But you still blush when someone flirts with you. That’s… kinda hot.”

Your eyes flickered red. He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t hex me.”

“Don’t tempt me.” There was a pause—heavy and sweet. Then he leaned in, voice barely above a breath: “If I knock next time… would you let me in?”

Your heart skipped. Your magic pulsed. “…Maybe.”

He grinned. “Good,” he said, stepping back with a wink. “Because I already bought matching pajamas.”

You blinked. “What—” He sped off in a blur, leaving you standing alone in the hallway, red energy still dancing at your fingertips.

And this time, you smiled for real.

PART TWO

[invincibledc]

SONIC!READER X FLASHBOYS/FLASHFAMILY IMAGINES AND HEADCANNONS

Heads up!: you can imagine this as human!Sonic or Sonic in genuine.

BARRY

Honestly he’s the one that’s homing you the most. You could try and hang out with the batfamily and you are put in timeout.

Literally your father figure who tries to scold you about using your speed.

You once have sped around him due to a sugar rush, and boy he held you down as you giggled crazily.

If you do that sonic spike roll where you speed off, he may not be able to stop you as you bounce a lot.

Once has you on his lap eating a chilli dog during a justice league meeting. Hal narrowed his eyes pointing to you.

“Why is he here?”

“He’s my son. If I’m here, he’s here.”

“Yah!” You said with a smug smirk as Hal glared at you.

You definitely Fortnite danced in front of him.

WALLY

Takes you to the young Justice head quarters to show off this new blue family member into the flash family.

Always buys you buckets of ice cream so you both can have ice cream eating battles

Always brings you with his hangouts with Robin when you and him weren’t with the young Justice.

Always calls you his little brother when people ask who you are.

“Wanna go to that burger joint that just opened?” “Hell yeah!”

And you both sped off in excitement.

BART

Speaks so fast as he tried to think of superhero names for you.

“What about blue bullet?! Oh oh, what about blue crash?!”

Daily racing with each other, it’s literally a ritual after every mission you both have. Nightwing had to scold you both to stop it.

Always speeding off to your favorite hotdog place to cheer you up when you’re down in the dumps.

He considers you the best friend of best friends. Sorry blue bettle! Another blue thing taken your best friend.

You both crash into each other and lay there with loud giggles! Bart and Wally could only stare at you both with either disapproval or maybe relief that you both are fine.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Something About Curly Hair and Any Character You Have in Mind

I've always had a fantasy of someone playing with my curls. Delicately pulling on them, like a kid pulling on a string. Playfully and adoringly watching the curl bounce back. Maybe the person could even praise it, saying it's cute, or beautiful, or mesmerising. Especially if they don't have curly hair.

A few minutes ago, my girl friend did it to me, exactly how I've always dreamed, even if inside I wanted to pull away, afraid that she would mess it up, I didn't, and she didn't, and even if she did, I wouldn't care, because I'm starved. So here's this little scenario that I finally felt courage and inspiration to write.

This was written based on my own experience having 123B hair, that has some volume on it (how do you even measure that??), with definition, so you must imagine it was very indulgent.

Also works for Readers of any race!!!! I just specify they have natural curls, didn't even mention the colour.

Gn!Reader and Gn!Character so you reaaaally can imagine whoever you want. But the character probably doesn't have curly hair, and learns to do different hairstyles on you (it's different doing it on yourself and then doing on other people, so you still can imagine any gender or appearance on them). Sex is mentioned. I'm tagging this with the first characters that come to my mind while writing this, just to make it easier.

Might edit this later because it's currently 3am and I'm sleepy as fuck

Divider

They love you. That means they love everything about you. And they love your hair.

They think the volume is sexy. Think clouds can't be softer. Think the way the light reflects on it is ethereal. Think the curls smells heavenly. Think the shape is unmatched.

When you move your hair, it's like being a kid and having a first crush again. Especially if the action causes the delicate smell of it travel through the air faster than they can blink, and they're swallowed in a fog of you.

When you sleep in the same bed together for the first time, and every other time after, they like to wake up before you. Just to admire your peacefull beauty for a while. Like the rest of the world doesn't exist. That's the best way to start a day.

Sometimes, boredom doesn't get to them because tracing curl patterns in your hair with their eyes is entertainment for a lifetime. Never before have they noticed that someone can have more than one curl texture, and how unique and perfect that mixture can look.

There's moments where they get distracted by you. You, taking their attention from something supposedly more important at that moment. Either you smell too nice, or look too good, or shine too bright. And they just can't seem to find anything more interesting than looking at you and your hair.

The first time they touched it, they were surprised by how soft it was, like cotton. Almost weightless, despite it's volume and length. Other people's hair surely doesn't feel like this. They spend so much time touching it the first time, that you have to ask them to stop, or you wouldn't have a nice hair day the next day. They looked like a kicked puppy, so you taught them to gently scrunch from the bottom.

They think bonnets are funny at first, but not in a bad way. They're not laughing at you. Mostly giggling, actually. They understand you may have needed some courage to look like this with them around. And it's like a tiny, almost nonexistent, relationship goal. To be intimate enough to feel confortable wearing a bonnet in front of your partner. And they love that you have no problem doing it.

They even buy silk sheets and pillows if it might help you. It might be morte confortable and not mess with your hair. And they understands sex while having curly hair might be frustrating at times.

Speaking of, they won't pull or mess with it unless you ask for it. They took very seriously your lesson from the first time. And if you have some instructions to give them on how to do it while causing less damage, then you certainly will lift a weight off some shoulders.

Oh, and the difference of how it looks when it's wet and then dry? They can't believe their eyes for a moment. Logic seems to escape. It feels impossible. But it isn't. And they're amazed. Almost jealous for not being as gorgeous as you. They understand why someone would be jealous of you.

Actually, they partially think others should be. If someone dares to utter you are less than stunning, then oh boy. God help them.

Any styling is great. And they're so in love with you, so focused on you, eyes solely on you, that they think no hairstyle looks as good on other people, as they look on you. Even if you hate it, he thinks it looks way better than it would have on anyone else.

Also, they learn some things. They learns to curl with their fingers, how to put on clips, how to do some braids, or buns, or pigtains, or anything you wear often. Even something you never did, but they think will make you ethereal, they will do it on you. They might not even teach you, just so you'll need them for something.

They feel part of their heart breaking if you straighten it. Sure it looks good. If it makes you happy, than they're happy. But it's far from a favorite look on you. It's not the natural you. And they love you. They might love a modified version of you, but only because they love you. Just the way you are.

And if you ever feel insecure, I assure you, they're gonna fix you right up.

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

[nanaminsonyfans]

Being with Bart Allen (impluse)

masterlist

request ; Bart Allen relationship headcanons please?

a/n; i hope this is okay. its a little short heh

warnings; enby reader, nsfw, fluff

SFW

He's so cuddly

like as soon as he comes home he needs to either be in your arms or you in his

Bart is so needy too

He doesnt know why but he needs to be reassured that you love him, because he tells you every day because he never wants you to feel the way he does

Sometimes he's gone for a long time because of missions, but you always are home waiting for him

He loves to come home to you

You love to do the same as well

Cheesy jokes alllll the way

"Hey y/n, feel my shirt."

"Feels like cotton."

"Its boyfriend material."

"I'm gonna break up with you."

You steal his clothes all the time

If your chubby and his sweaters dont fit you, he'll buy a size bigger just so he can see you in it

God damn it you're so cute anyways!

He'll do anything for you

He cooks all the time. sometimes its a huuuge fail but most of the time its amazing

You're always stocked on junk food for this skinny boy

You have your favorite food that you HIDE because he will eat it all no matter what.

Boy, he will bring you food from ALL OVER the world.

Craving the moichi from tokyo? he'll be back in five minutes

He's so caring and nice

also his hair is soft so your hands are in it, playing with it all the time

He's so cute when you play with his hair

almost purring like a cat.

NSFW

Haha

he can totally vibrate his tongue and fingers

its something i fantasize about tbh

Remember when i said hes needy? yeah that doesnt just transfer to cuddles

he'll finger you and vibrate his fingers and DAMN

It feels so much better than anything else

sometimes you'll make out and his tongue will vibrate from him getting excited

Almost like a dog wagging his tail ya know

He always loves to kiss you sensually while having sex

he's really gentle unless you ask other wise

You're so needy too

He's PACKIN. mostly length

i mean, hes a skinny boy.

However, he has a strong grip on you

whether its your hips or hands

He loves your body sm

Especially the curves if you have any

and if you dont have any, he loves you nonetheless.

He fucking ADORES how tight you are

even after fucking you for three rounds or more, you're still tight.

he also peppers you in kisses. marking "whats his"

As if anyone else needs to know

you literally have six impulse themed clothing

god if you wear impulse  lingerie?

you're wrecked for DAYS

[luvsthanos]

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

[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.

[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!!!

[deadrobinthoughts]

[ phone blurb pt2 ]

the gas station at two in the morning is a completely different world. it's bright, buzzing, and weirdly sacred and you're convinced the lights are hanging on for dear life. the world outside is asleep, all usual chaos dialed down to a soft hum in the distance, but in here? in here, bart allen is having a crisis over a slushie machine.

"okay, okay, okay, just hear me out. what if I do half blue raspberry, half cherry, and like.. a swirl technique? like those intentional, supposed to be artistic kind of swirls, not just ‘oh no, i messed up the cup placement’ swirl." his hands are already moving too fast, the lever pulled before you can even answer and for a moment, you wonder why he even asks questions.

you barely get a breath in before there's a mess.

you reach to pluck a stack of napkins from the counter as bart looks down at his sticky fingers with genuine betrayal, as if he genuinely wasnt expecting it. the gas station clerk could not possibly care less.

by the time you step outside, bart has three different slushies, a stolen sip of yours, and a brain freeze so intense he’s clutching his forehead like he’s having a vision from the speed force. "ggaahh! i always do this!" he groans, stomping his foot like an upset toddler. "why do they make it taste so good if it’s gonna hurt?"

you shake your head, taking another sip, like a normal human being, as he pouts at you. "because your name betrays you."

bart gasps, scandalized, actually looking over your attempt at a dry joke. 'i have amazing impulse control."

"mmmmhm. keep telling yourself that."

despite taking another sip and regretting it, his grin is still there. bright, carefree, and the kind of thing that makes the night feel warmer. the hum of the city sounds in the background but in this quiet little pocket of time, it's just you and him and the neon glow of gas station lights.

[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

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

Lol, I was thinking of a pairing for a voodoo or vodou!reader, and all of a sudden Bartholomew Henry Allen II popped into my mind, and I can't get over it. It's like Bart falling in love with the reader because under all that weird, creepy, and mysterious aloof personality, there's a dork ready to emerge. He sees how your face lights up when he mentions one of your interests; he knows how socially awkward you are, but you still make an effort to hold a conversation. When I think about their relationship, it reminds me of Asa and Denji from Chainsaw Man. They're that weird couple that just works so well together. They'll go on a date to the aquarium while being high as hell, holding hands and watching the jellyfish glow and swim by. Bart will gladly be your sacrifice for whatever magical nonsense you're up to. He's your dream blunt rotation. I also feel like their relationship will give off Jessica Rabbit and Roger Rabbit vibes, with the voodoo reader being all fashionable and put together, and there's your boyfriend who can't tie his own tie. You can't help but laugh. "Their so mysterious!" "He's so fucking dumb; I just want to kiss him!" Everyone is like, "What do you see in him?" and you'll sigh with dreamy eyes at the world.

Bart: Flowers for you, babe!

*Bart holding out a thing of lettuce for you*

Vodou!reader: Oh, it's lovely!~

*The Batfam is now confused about why you have a bouquet of lettuce in a floral vase in your room.*

[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.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[mintyys-blog]

FOOD IS THE WAY TO THE HEART — bart allen x reader

WARNINGS: none

The apartment felt a little too quiet. You sighed, glancing at the clock for the hundredth time. Valentine’s Day, and your boyfriend—Bart Allen, aka Impulse—was off on a mission. Of course, you understood. Being a hero came first, but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss him.

So, instead of sulking, you had spent the entire day cooking. Every dish was something he loved—pancakes stacked high with syrup, spaghetti with extra parmesan, a mountain of burgers, and even homemade churros. The kitchen smelled divine, and you could only imagine the look on his face when he got back.

The sound of the apartment door swinging open made your heart race. A gust of wind rushed through the room, and suddenly, Bart was standing there, still in his suit, panting slightly. His messy hair stuck to his forehead, but his amber eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Baby!” he called, holding up a bouquet of red roses and a heart-shaped box of chocolates. “I ran straight here—didn’t even stop for snacks!”

You smiled, stepping forward as he thrust the flowers and chocolates into your arms, his hands instantly moving to cup your face. “I missed you so much,” he breathed before pressing a quick, eager kiss to your lips.

You chuckled against him, running a hand through his wild hair. “I missed you too, Speedy. But, uh… you might want to look in the kitchen.”

Bart blinked before following your gaze. The second he saw the spread of food, his jaw literally dropped. “No way.” He turned to you, then back to the food, then back to you. “No. Way.”

You grinned. “Yes way.”

He didn’t even hesitate—within a blink, you were off the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he spun you around. His laughter was bright, filled with pure joy. “You are the best girlfriend ever,” he declared before kissing you deeply, pouring every ounce of his love and appreciation into it.

When he finally set you down, his hands stayed on your waist, and he rested his forehead against yours. “I love you so much,” he murmured. “Like, a stupid amount.”

You giggled, brushing your fingers against his cheek. “I love you too, Bart. Now, are you gonna eat, or just stand there drooling?”

Bart pulled back slightly, feigning deep thought. “Hmm… both?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as he practically vibrated with excitement. Then, before you could say another word, he grabbed a fork and dug in—because nothing, not even a mission, could keep Bart Allen from appreciating good food. And especially not when it was made by the person he loved most.

[invincibledc]

Y/N: dude…stop vibrating.

Bart who can’t control his feelings as he holds you close to his body.

Bart: can’t control it. *smiles* I’m hugging the most awesomest person ever and you’re telling me to stop?

Y/N: *smiles* yes. Cause I feel like ima get burned by my shirt.

Bart: oops! Sorry, can’t help it. *is less vibrating now*

Y/N: thanks man.