#Bart allen oneshot

[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

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     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.

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     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.

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     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.

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     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.

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     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.

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#bart allen #impulse #bart allen oneshot #impulse oneshot #young justice #young justice oneshot #young justice x reader #bart allen x reader #impulse x reader

[batfam-fanfics]

a campy camp-out by SummerBummin

1 Chapter - 3941 words

What would happen if Young Just Us discussed gender and sexuality at their camp-out?

Bart says gender is fake, Kon wasn’t aware people of the same sex could date until now, Cassie believes it’s a universal truth that everyone thinks girls are gorgeous and Cissie has to correct that misconception, Tim is procrastinating his sexuality, and Greta is the personification of that meme “she’s a little confused, but she’s got the spirit”

It’s chaos basically

(@summerbummin)

#young just us #young justice #core four #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #bart allen #cassie sandsmark #cissie king jones #greta hayes #timkon #cissiecassie #fanfiction recommendation #fic rec #dc comics #oneshot #lgbtqia

[dickmedowndc]

Artist's Muse - Bart Allen x Artistic!Reader

Word Count: 1,898

Summary: Reader is drawing outside, minding their own business at first. But inspiration is not coming so easily today – until someone catches your eye. Though he is sitting a few feet away from you, he appears to be relaxed as he lays back relaxed, talking with his friends every so often. Struck by the desire to draw, you find the sketch on the page looking more and more like him, too engrossed in the art to realize that you have been caught. 

Note: Have I seen this prompt done about a hundred times over with all kinds of characters across all kinds of fandom? Yep, and now you’re getting my spin on it!

…★…

Your fingers were gripped tight around your pencil, face set into a scowl. You wanted to draw. You knew you did. But nothing was sparking your interest. You had come to the park in an attempt to find a muse. But as you tried to sketch the landscape, the trees, children playing, or the birds hopping about, you found that nothing was working. The lines on the page were not as you wanted them to look. Like they refused to connect. The images both in your line of sight and in your head failed to translate onto the paper. You were ready to call it a day and head home, frustrated still that you could not drag yourself out of your slump. Art block had been your closest companion for weeks now, and it had you ready to toss your beloved sketchbook out the window. 

Instead, you closed your eyes, looking up at the sky and taking a deep breath. Maybe, if you could just take a few moments, you could at least enjoy what was left of the day now that the sun was setting. There was no sense in wasting what remained of the daylight and going back home upset. Finally opening your eyes, you reach for your water bottle to take a sip, glancing at the area surrounding you. 

Most of the people left were teenagers, or other young adults. Parents were beginning to round their children up to usher them back off home, older couples seemed content to call it a day and walked back to wherever they had parked. A few groups of younger individuals seemed ready to part ways for the day and you could see them wave each other off. Some evening joggers were beginning to arrive, and you could spot a few individuals that you recognized as regulars. However, just a few feet in front of you, to your right and past the tree, you noticed a group of friends you had not seen earlier in the day. 

You wish you could say you knew when they had arrived, but you had been deeply engrossed in your vain attempts at art, and had blocked out the surrounding world. The group seemed to keep your attention, laughing loudly at a joke one of them made, though you were too far away to hear anything else. Interested, willing to try your hand once more at art, you position yourself to see them a bit better without grabbing their attention, your back now against the tree. 

Initially you only notice three of them, until they glance down and you realize a younger man is laying on the grass, eyes closed and arms tucked behind his head. While he never moves from his spot, you can see his mouth moving and hear the uproar of laughter that follows. He seems pleased with their response and you can just make out a smile on his face as well. 

Your breath catches for a moment and you find yourself far more enamored with him than his friends. Your original idea had been to draw the blonde girl – an attempt at catching her mirth, and their friends had their backs turned to you for the most part. Instead, you could feel yourself flipping the page to something cleaner, still looking at the guy laying down. 

The lighting was just right, vibrant hues of gold, orange, and pink saturated the sky, with clouds scattering across and lit up in the evening light. He seemed to be laying almost perfectly underneath the horizon, a brilliant halo of color around him. But the contrast of the sky and the deep green of the grass he was laying on was beautiful enough, and you could not help but admit he was attractive as well. Only half aware of your surroundings you glanced down, making sure you had brought plenty of colored pencils. While you may not have enough time to color, you wanted to try. 

Finally feeling the rush of creativity, you looked back down, beginning to sketch him out. You notice, absently, that you are not including his friends in this, but cannot bring yourself to correct it. He is in your peripheral enough to see his entire body, unobscured by his friends. Every so often you need to look up, and you thank whatever deity above that he seems content enough to not move. Still in the same position every time. Absently, you thank them a second time that his friends seem too caught up with themselves to notice you studying their auburn-haired friend as you try to get his features right on your sketch.  

And while the looks you keep sending his way are not enough to catch their attention, unbeknownst to you, your murmuring is heard by one of them. Though he is sure you don’t realize you are doing it, he risks a glance. You are far too busy looking at Bart to realize you have been noticed and he turns to the speedster. “Looks like you have an admirer,” he quips. At Kon’s words, both Tim and Cassie stop as well, looking up to where you are still furiously scribbling. 

“I noticed.” The smug drawl in his voice has them all snickering again before the group manages to compose themselves once more. 

“How long?” It is Cassie who speaks this time, gazing down at her friend. 

“They started drawing me a while ago,” he shrugs, but otherwise Bart does not move. “I’m gonna go ask to see it when they stop.” 

It is then that you finally look up again, only to see a grin on his face while he is looking at his friend. His eyes are open as well, but you cannot see what color they are from where you sit. You linger on that thought more than you would care to admit. But just as quickly he returns to the same relaxed pose that he had been in for the extent of your drawing and you finish the last of the details you need. 

The sun was too far down now – and the colors has since faded. Stars were beginning to dance above the park. As many as could be seen from the city at least. Taking another look at your art, you put away your pencil, satisfied with the way your work had come out. Your unknowing muse had been not only fun to draw, but had been an amazing model. Though you almost felt guilty for not asking you pushed it aside. It seemed that nobody had noticed you looking up at him, so hopefully your glances had been fast enough. 

Instead, you gathered your supplies together. Packing away extra pencils, colored pencils, liners, a notebook, and various other items that you had opted to bring with you for your day to the park. Caught up in double checking you had everything, you turn to grab your sketchbook, only to jump in the process. You send up a silent prayer that you did not shriek. But you still blink at the man sitting in front of you. 

The same guy you had just been drawing. In the back of your mind, your brain helpfully supplies that his eyes are golden, as you had been wondering only a few minutes ago. 

Just over his shoulder you can see his friends laughing, and judging from the satisfied look on his face you must have been caught. Sheepishly, you turn back to look at him. “Uh, hello.” 

“Hey,” you can see him glance to your sketchbook before looking back at you. He pauses for a moment before his smile is right back. “Can I see how it came out?” 

“Oh, uh, well – it was just some sketches from around the park.” Maybe you can bluff your way out of it, too embarrassed to let him see the drawing you had done of him. 

“Oh, is that why you kept looking over at me?” There is no malice in his tone, and he seems all too amused with the situation. 

“You saw me?” Though it seems like the answer should be obvious, you still hear the question slip past your lips. 

“Pretty early on, yeah,” the smile he has is far too smug but it is obvious enough he is trying not to laugh as well, “why do you think I was staying so still?” 

Finally, you let out a sigh, knowing there is no way to pretend you had not been drawing him for the last – well, however long it had been. You needed to check your phone to see the time eventually. Rather than do that, you pick your sketchbook back up, flipping through the pages until you reach the one with him on it. It is not a small doodle, not by any means, and it takes up the entire page. Shyly, you hand the book over to him, which he gently takes, seeming eager to catch a look at the final product. 

“Woah.” He spares a glance up at you before going back to looking at the drawing. “This is good. This is really good.” 

“Thank you.” 

“So, this is how you see me?” His tone is teasing, and you can feel yourself flushing at it. 

“I thought it was pretty true to life, actually.” 

It seems to be his turn to be embarrassed, and you can see his own cheeks coloring. Just slightly. But it does not seem to deter him. “Well, maybe I could give you my number and we could talk about it?” 

“Like, over lunch?” You ask, almost surprised by how hopeful you sound. 

“Just us.” 

Instead of answering him, you hand your phone over, after unlocking it and opening it to a new contact page. It takes him no time at all to input his name before he glances back at his friends. 

“I think I may need to head back over though. But lunch?” 

“It’s a date,” you chime. 

“Okay, good.” If anyone was to ask, you would swear his eyes light up as he says that. 

Hugging your sketchbook to your chest you wave goodbye and turn, heading to leave. Walking out, you fish your phone out of your pocket. You could wait until you get home to text him, but realize instead that you never gave him your name. Glancing forward to make sure nobody is in front of you, you open your phone to find his contact, laughing when you realize he has set himself as ‘Park Muse’ instead of his name. 

Hey, this is Y/n btw 

Hi! Do u like my name? 

Park muse? 

You can figure out what it really is at lunch 

Well, I'm free tomorrow if you are? 

That works for me. Do you know the café on 6th street? 

Korner Stone Kafe? 

Yeah! Meet there at 1? If that works for u 

I’ll see you at 1 

Despite making it home in one piece, you find yourself distracted messaging Bart for the rest of the night. One of his friends had gotten a hold of his phone and slipped up on his name within 15 minutes of you messaging him. A fact which had you laughing. Excited for the next day, you did eventually tell him goodnight before attempting to get some sleep – knowing you would be seeing him in only a few hours. 

#bart allen #bart allen x reader #impulse x reader #dc x reader #bart allen x you #bart allen x y/n #impulse x you #impulse x y/n #young justice #young just us #core four #dc oneshot #dc x y/n #dc x you #nicole writes #artistic!reader

[borderlinegerard]

i would,,,love to hear about the tim and bart college au,, if u have anything to share

OH MU GOD YAY

Let me set the scene for you. bart and tim were BEST FRIENDS in high school (think tim and bernard type friendship) but they both ended up at different colleges, tim dropped out due to red robin horrors, they just never talked again. BUT! they meet again at this city wide gala.

bart doesnr realize its tim at first. this confident man is so different than the meek teenager he knew. tim really had changed. and, of course, theyve both changed. theyve seen their best friends die, hell bart even died himself. but all this time apart? it was so strange being in the same room again.

theyre both in their last year of college, its only been 3 years but its felt so long. neither of them realize it at first. but bart notices things. the way tim has only his left fingernails painted (he says its because freddie mercury did it, but its really just because he has bad motor control on his left hand), the way he never seems to he able to make eye contact, and oh my god this is tim drake. this is tim drake barts high school crush that he never really did get over, did he?

its more of a question at first, but the more he thinks about it, the more he talks to tim drake (apparently his name is tim drake-wayne now! wow!) the more he realizes its not a question. maybe it never was. even years later, he's still just as stupid in love with tim drake-wayne as he was when he was 15.

i want to go somewhere with this. considering a timbernbart thing ? i think that would just be SO CUTE . do we like this, im fully making this up on the spot LOL.

#anon ask #tim drake #bart allen #red robin #impulse #dc impulse #dcau #okay but anyways #with the fanart that i originally mentioned the college au on #that drawing did something to me LOL #the second bart realizes oh shit thats tim #he screams oh i missed you so much #he tackles tim in a hug #but tim knew it was bart the whole time #hes tim drake . how wouldnt he know #but idk #is this anything ??? im not sure if i want to write a oneshot on this or something #INPUT IS APPRECIATED

[dearlexies]

(Maybe) I love you - Jaybart

pairing: Jason Todd × Bart Allen

requested: no

warning: sexual mentions

author notes: I'm not fluent in English yet, so sorry for the spelling mistakes, I also wrote this at one in the morning instead of going to bed so I'm also sorry if something doesn't make sense.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Oh God." Bart moaned, leaning his head back, he tried to get more air but it was difficult due to his breathing that was completely panting, meanwhile Jason took advantage of the moment when their lips were parted to leave kisses and hickeys all over your neck.

They had been making out in Bart's room for quite some time, the speedster was sure the house would be empty for the next five hours so they might as well enjoy the moment.

This was "technically" the fifth date they'd had, but it was the first time Bart had taken Jason to his room, they'd had sex before in Jason's car and apartment, a mall bathroom, and made out a few times behind a chinese restaurant.

But this time it was different, it felt different.

At first, Bart was more than a little hesitant to invite the other to his bed - knowing pretty well that this would be the first guy he'd ever bring into his house. Bart doesn't care about the whole "who would be my first" thing, but that doesn't mean he was less nervous about taking Jason home.

He thought the first guy he took home would end up being insignificant, like his first kiss and boyfriend, but more he thought about it the more he discovered that he genuinely cared, not about the guy he would take to have sex in his bed, Bart cared about Jason.

It was a little hard to admit to himself that what he felt for him was love, especially since he'd never experienced that kind of feeling for anyone else, but after long late night reflections and several people practically throwing it in his face that everything what he felt was love, he plucked up the courage to ask Jason out on that date.

That's how they ended up here.

In Bart's bed. Messy and breathless, inches from each other's lips.

"You're overthinking it," Jason whispered in his ear.

He wasn't wrong. His mind at that moment was in a whirlwind of thoughts too fast for him to keep up with, but in all that confusion going on in his head there was one thought in particular that caught his attention, Jason wasn't just the first guy he took to his bed , was also his first love.

He hated how sweet and cliché it sounded, even if it was just in his head.

“I was thinking about a few things, and I just realized that maybe I love you.

Bart wished he had a camera, or could have his phone in his hand instead of somewhere on the floor, so he could photograph Jason's reaction. It was something quick, it didn't even seem to have happened, but he'd seen it. His eyes had widened the tiniest bit, and for a brief moment Jason Todd was speechless.

“Maybe you love me?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. “only loves half of me and the other half hates completely?"

“No you idiot. I've never really loved anyone, not romantically at least, so I'm not sure what I feel is that kind of love. I know it's something special, and different, when I was with other guys it felt like I was pretending to like them, everything was so fake and superficial, but when I'm with you everything feels real and brilliant, I just don't know how to explain."

Jason opened and closed his mouth several times, it felt like his brain had short circuited and for a moment his entire nervous system had shut down and restarted. Bart wanted to laugh, as it was often he who was left in that state after some comment from Jason, not the other way around.

"You better stop talking that corny shit or I'll end up believing it." He said sarcastically.

Bart rolled his eyes and kissed his lips with a lot of passion and desire.

“You better believe it because it's true."

Jason smiled, it wasn't one of his characteristic sneers, this was genuine and made the speedster heart race faster - if that's possible.

“We've been dating less than an hour and you're already all silly and goofy with me.

“I'm going to pretend that the reason you don't believe in me is related to some trauma from your past, and instead of that you said I'm amazing and the best boyfriend in the world, because I am."

The two were silent for a moment but then they started laughing, they laughed so hard that now they were out of breath, but this time for a different reason.

“Well you're right, about the two things, you really are the best boyfriend in the world,” Jason murmured as he pressed a hard kiss to Bart's lips. “And maybe I love you for that."

#bart allen #jason todd #fanfics #jaybart #dcmultiverse #i wrote this at midnight #Bart is aromantic #they love each other #but they don't know yet #well they know but don't wanna admit #oneshot

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Time to Add More Fics to This Account: Batfam Edition

Lost Boys: Canon divergent AU (Jonathan Lane Kent, Jason Todd, Catherine Todd, Boston Brand, Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Raven, John Constantine, Ra's al Ghul, Tim Drake)

Moon Rocks: Canon divergent AU, Catherine Todd is Jason's Bio Mom (Catherine Todd, Jason Todd, Natalia Knight)

Grave Circumstances: Monster AU (Jason Todd, Original Characters)

Seeing Ghosts (Oneshot): Ghost AU (Jason Todd, Jonathan Lane Kent)

Ocean View: No powers AU (Jason Todd, Jonathan Lane Kent, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Chris Kent, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake)

Chess Not Checkers: Canon divergent AU (Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Roman Sionis, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Original Character(s))

Hair Trigger: College/University AU (Jason Todd, Laney Kent, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Bruce Wayne, Natalia Knight, Conner Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Chris Kent, Bart Allen, Tim Drake)

#fic #my polls #batfam #superfam #Jonathan Lane Kent #Jason Todd #Catherine Todd #Boston Brand #Bruce Wayne #Talia al Ghul #Clark Kent #Lois Lane #Raven #John Constantine #Ra's al Ghul #Tim Drake #Laney Kent #Natalia Knight #Conner Kent #Cassie Sandsmark #Jonathan Samuel Kent #Chris Kent #Bart Allen

[thatthirdtriplet]

Relationships:

Tim Drake & Damian WayneTim Drake & Dick GraysonTim Drake & Bruce WayneDick Grayson & Damian WayneTalia al Ghul & Damian WayneTim Drake & Jason ToddJason Todd & Damian WayneStephanie Brown & Tim DrakeTim Drake & Alfred PennyworthAlfred Pennyworth & Damian WayneTim Drake & Barbara GordonTim Drake & Tam FoxBart Allen & Damian WayneBart Allen & Tim DrakeTim Drake & Kon-El | Conner KentKon-El | Conner Kent & Damian WayneTim Drake & Cassie SandsmarkCassie Sandsmark & Damian WayneTam Fox & Damian WayneAlfred Pennyworth & Jason ToddBarbara Gordon & Jason ToddMara al Ghul & Damian Wayne

Characters:

Tim Drake Damian Wayne Dick Grayson Bruce Wayne Stephanie Brown Jason Todd Alfred Pennyworth Tam Fox Bart Allen Cassie Sandsmark Kon-El | Conner Kent Mara al Ghul

Mentioned:

Mentioned Bernard Dowd Mentioned Talia al Ghul

Additional Tags:

Tim Drake-centric Damian Wayne-centric Tim Drake Needs a Hug Damian Wayne Needs a Hugs siblings Bonding implied/Referenced Child Abuse past Child Abuse past Abuse Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent bad Parent Talia al Ghul enemies to friends to brothers I wanna specify that bad parent bruce wayne is for tim not damian this was supposed to be a oneshot no beta we die like robin Antisemitism Racismsome of the stuff they do can be construed as self harm Jewish Tim Drake Bad Person Bruce Wayne so Bruce is the scum of the earth in this Whump Hurt/Comfort I tried so hard to make Bruce be redeemable but I couldn't do that and tell a good story So here we are Bisexual Tim Drake I do mention Bernard Dowd because Timbern is my OTP but it's offhanded It’s there to bully Tim does anyone else remember the redboard or is it just me? Angst with a Happy Ending hopeful Ending it isn't a nice tight bow on the story but it wraps it up

Summary:

Once upon a time, Tim and Damian wanted each other dead. Now they're sure that the other is the only one that really gets it anymore.

AKA Tim and Damian have the same trauma around training that they consider to be the norm and are glad to find another person who "trains like a normal person" instead of realizing that they're the outliers.

#tim drake #damian wayne #tim drake & damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #barbra gordon #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #stephanie brown #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #conner kent #kon el kent #some common ground

[lemonyinks]

All the ways Bart Allen is loved.

Bart Allen oneshot accompanied by art from the wonderful @bamboozled-and-alone for the @flashfambigbang

6,565 words

or read here instead

1.

Bart trudged inside after Helen, bag dragging along the floor and shoulders slumped. 

It had just been one of those days; the ones where even friendly contact made your skin buzz in a not so pleasant way and simply getting out from under your thick blankets felt like medieval torture. He tried to make it through the day, he really had, but even Carol and Preston could tell that he wasn’t his usual self, being more easily frustrated, shying away from touch, and quick to snapping at the smallest  of things. It was a surprise to no one when he inevitably caved part way through the day. He told his teacher he wasn’t feeling well and then called Max using the phone in the nurse's office.

It was Helen that answered, and she had told him that Max was out but she would gladly come get him. He knew she was a busy person and that this was probably the only free time to herself that she was going to get this week, and he felt bad for taking that away from her, but he was so tired that he all but begged her to come get him. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t just run home. The school wouldn’t release him without a guardian present and just up and leaving would cause more problems than it was worth. Stupid school and its stupid rules.

It felt like hours before her familiar car rolled up to the school and she came inside to sign him out and collect him. Even though Helen was the type of person to blast music when she drove, the ride home had been blissfully silent. Bart was so thankful for it.

He flopped onto the sofa after carelessly throwing his bag down near the hallway entrance. He buried his face in the corner of the cushions and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt wrung out and tense. Maybe he just needed a nap and he would feel better. At least, that is what he was hoping.

“Are you hungry, hun?” Helen asked from the doorway of the kitchen. Bart felt vaguely nauseous but he had to admit that he was a little bit hungry, so he muttered a tired “sure” and listened to the sound of Helen's retreating steps. He closed his eyes and tried to stave off the headache that threatened to expand behind his eyes. Yeah, that nap sounded good right about now.

He unknowingly drifted into a restless sleep and woke to the pink and orange hues of a setting sun in the open window. He rolled over onto his back and admired the pastel clouds as they drifted by. A breeze cooled his skin and caused the curtains to flutter gently. The beauty of the sky was one of the only things VR had never been able to replicate perfectly. He inhaled deeply, taking in the delicious smell of something cooking in the room over. He leaped to his feet and dashed into the kitchen as he recognized the smell as Helen’s Beef Stew.

“You, like, never make this, Helen. What’s the occasion?” He asked, mouth water at the sight and smell as she stirred the large pot on the stove. It was something that was tedious to make in quantities large enough to satisfy the speedster metabolism, making it a rarity in the Mercury household. 

“I just felt like it.” Helen said, ruffling his hair as she headed towards the cupboard to grab one of Max’s big bowls, the ones that looked like oversized mugs with the handles that got too hot to hold. She scooped him several large spoonfuls before handing the bowl off to him and pointing him over to the table. She handed him a bread roll from a bag sitting on the counter that Bart knew hadn’t been there that morning.

“Thank you, Helen.” He said, excitedly dipping his spoon into the heavenly meal and digging in, humming at the as the unbeatable tastes exploded across his taste buds.

“No problem, kiddo.” She said, taking a seat beside him with her own bowl.

I love you

2.

Bart was tired, which wasn’t something that happened to him very often. He was known to have an infuriating inability to grow tired, actually. It was something that drove Max crazy in the beginning, and left Bart feeling restless and agitated. But today, he was well and truly tired.

His shoulders had an exhausted slump to them and he had to shuffle to keep himself awake as he stood behind Max. He gave a tired blink, eyes absently staring up at the starry night sky while he tuned out the boring run down the old man was giving the police officers who had come to collect the small-time villain they had just taken out.

“You look pretty tired there, Bart.” Max said as they finally, finally walked away from the police officer. It felt like they had been standing there for hours! How did Max even find the words to have a conversation so slow?

“Yeah, a little bit, I guess.” Bart said with a yawn. No use in lying about it, really. He was tired, after all.

“Why don’t you go ahead and hop up onto my back then? I'll give you a lift home.” Max suggested, halting their walk. Bart perked up slightly, his eyebrows raising nearly to his hairline,

“Really?” He asked, maybe a touch too excited. He loved piggyback rides, you see.

“Why not?” Max asked rhetorically as he moved to crouched in front of Bart, arms extended back in preparation to hold Bart’s legs. 

He didn’t need to be told twice. He moved at the speed of light, practically throwing himself onto the older man’s back with a newfound energy and wrapping his arms around his neck in an near choke hold. Max choked and teetered forward, almost being thrown off balance before righting himself and standing up straight. He hoisted Bart further up his back, grip firm and secure on the underside of his knees.

“Are you sure I’m not too heavy for your brittle old man bones?” Bart asked, swinging his feet back and forth in an excited manner. He knew his weight was nothing for Max, but he couldn’t resist the urge to rib him whenever he could.

“Don’t make me regret this, Bart.” Max grumbled with a sigh, though there was a smile on his lips.

Bart just laughed and hugged him tighter, resting his head against Max's and letting his eyes slip shut as he started back up their journey home for the night.

I love you

3.

“Bart!” Preston’s voice called out to him from somewhere to his left. 

Bart turned towards the sound and found Preston rushing towards where he was sitting on the bleachers watching Carol run through her cheer routine. His steps were loud and thunderous on the rickety structure. He threw himself down onto the heated metal of the bench beside him, side pressing into Bart’s and elbow digging into his ribs.

“Where’s the fire?” Bart joked, unconsciously leaning into the weight of Preston.

“That is not a funny joke to make when it is well over 102 degrees outside.” Preston said, giving Bart a disapproving look, his face already blotchy and red from the heat.

And he made a fair point, to be honest. It was so hot outside that Bart was convinced he’d managed to sweat off more than two times his body weight by now. He would have surely passed out if not for the constant water breaks the teachers had been begrudgingly allowing them. Even the shorts he’d borrowed from Cissie and the light tank top he stole from Wally weren’t doing very much to help him from overheating in the sweltering August heat.

“My bad,” He laughed, “But seriously, what's the rush?”

If it was even possible, Bart could have sworn that he saw Preston’s face flush even deeper. The heat must really be getting to him, huh?

“I-um-well, I wanted to give you something.” Preston said. He pulled his backpack up into his lap and then rooted around in it before producing a small cassette tape case. It was see-through and without any indication that it was by a specific band so Bart deduced that it must be homemade.

“What’s this?” Bart asked, reaching out to pull it from Preston’s slightly shaky grasp. Upon closer inspection he realized there was a piece of scrap paper with his name written in red pen taped to the cassette itself.

" It's a cassette tape.  I recorded some stuff I thought you might like onto it.” Preston said. His voice was uncharacteristically soft, a small tremble noticeable to it. 

“Oh, wow, thank you.” Bart said. He reached into his own bag, digging around for the walkman that Max and Helen got him for his birthday.

“Are you going to listen to it now?!” Preston asked, sounding almost panicked. Bart turned back to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Am I not supposed to..?” He asked.

“I mean, I’m not stopping you. It’s just- well um, I though that- No, nevermind. Go ahead and listen to it.” Preston stuttered out, turning his bright red face away from Bart, who shrugged in response before finally pulling his walkman out from where it was crushed between several trashed spiral notebooks and borrowed textbooks. He rooted around some more until he found the headphones that went with it, half-heartedly untangling the wire before plugging them in and then poking Preston in the shoulder.

“Listen together?” He questioned, holding the headphones out between them.

Preston pursed his lips and looked between Bart and the device several times before his expression softened into a smile and he said, “Why not.”

Bart twisted the headphones a bit until he was able to press one of the speakers to his ear, cupping his hand over it to keep it in place. Preston did the same. This position forced them to lean into each other, their sweaty shoulder’s stuck together, knuckles brushing against each other, and knees knocking together. Preston leaned back, forcing Bart to follow until they were both leaning against the bleacher bench behind them, heads leaning back against the hot metal and faces upturned to the shimmering sun. Bart closed his eyes and let the lyrics to Some Kind Of Wonderful fill one ear, the sounds of the activity on the field and Preston’s steady breathing in the other.

I love you

4.

The rest of Young Justice dispersed throughout the base as the meeting and debrief came to an end. Bart shoved his chair back and flew to his feet, ready to go tearing back home to Manchester. Those meetings were always soooo boring, and he was more than ready to go running with Max or hang out with Preston and Carol. It was the weekend, so he didn't even have homework to worry about. Well, no homework that he was going to worry about anyway.

He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He paused and turned to make eye contact with Tim. Oh no, what had Bart done? Was he in trouble or-

“Hey, here's a list of all the rogues - active or otherwise -  in your area. Let me know if anything is missing, kay?” Tim said before handing him a laminated piece of paper that he confirmed with a glance was indeed a list of rouges, with both names he recognized and a few he didn't.

What?

“Thank you?” Bart questioned, raising an eyebrow. Tim patted him on the shoulder one more time before walking away without another word.

He didn’t know why Tim felt the need to give this to him, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it. For now, he decided to hand it off to Max and hope to forget about the weird experience.

Execpt Tim did it again. And again. And again. Every weekend like clockwork Tim would bring him a new updated list with more and more information on it each time, and again and again Bart would give him a confused look before going home and handing it off to Max. It was like Tim didn’t think he could do his own job!  The nerve of this guy!

...But that wasn’t it, was it? The more he paid attention, the more he began to realize that it wasn’t just him that Tim did this to. No, he did it with everyone. He even did it with Cassie, who Bart knew Tim had absolute faith in. So it wasn’t done out of a lack of faith in his ability. It was done out of…concern? Or at least something similar to it.

Tim wanted them, wanted Bart, to be prepared for anything. He wanted him to be safe. And honestly, it had been helpful, he wouldn't lie. More than once it had clued him and Max in on some suspicious activity that they would have been otherwise too busy to notice. It was nice, Bart thought, to have someone on the outside help out every once in a while, even if it was from someone weird enough to alphabetize and colour code the information. 

Bart smiled widely at Tim the next time he came to hand him an updated list. Tim smiled back, the lenses of his domino scrunching up and his dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth. He patted Bart on the shoulder like always and left to carry on with his tasks.

I love you

5.

Cassie Sandsmark was an extremely tactile person. This was a well known and inescapable truth that the entirety of Young Justice have come to know over the course of their time together. Whether it be a casual arm around your shoulders or a spine cracking hug lifting you from the ground, Cassie couldn’t go longer than a few minutes without being in contact with one of her friends.

And Bart loved this fact.

He was just as touchy as Cassie, if not more so. Hugs, high fives, pats on the back or shoulder, and even holding hands, you name it and Bart Allen loved it. This simple fact made the two of them the perfect victims to the others' affection.

“Hey, Bart.” Cassie’s voice called from the sitting space as he made his way to the kitchen for a quick snack.

He paused and peaked his head into the doorway. “Yeah?” He called back.

“I’m going to watch Wendy. Want to join?” She called back, unnecessarily loud considering he was only a few feet away from her. He considered her offer and then shrugged. He didn’t have anything else to do, he was just going to go back to his room and play video games.

“Sure, why not. Let me grab a snack real quick.” He said, ducking back into the kitchen.

“Grab me a pop while you’re in there, would you?” She yelled from the other room. He didn’t answer, and instead got to work poking around for something to eat.

He returned to the sitting room a few minutes later with a family sized bag of crisps in one hand and a soda for Cassie in the other. She was laying across the sofa when he got there, one leg lazily hanging over the edge and the other bent at the knee and leaning against the back. Her head was cushioned by the armrest.

He didn’t even consider the other furniture in the room before immediately going to lay himself directly on top of her, setting the drink and the snack on the floor in front of them. He laid his head on her muscular chest and she wrapped her arms around his waist, locking her hands together and setting them on the small of his back. He tucked his hands underneath her, warming them with the heat of her back.

He listened to her heartbeat as they watched the show, his head rising and falling in time with her breath. Eventually she began to run her fingers through his thick hair, and even he had to admit it made him just a little bit sleepy. He felt content to lay there forever.

I love you

6.

Bart leaned back against Anita’s legs behind him, shifting impatiently as she ran a brush through his unruly, static-y locks.

It was getting longer, annoyingly so. It would not stop fall in front of his face unless he was constantly pushing it behind his ear or blowing it out of the way. It drove him crazy. It also seemed to drive Anita crazy, because she had wasted no time in coming up to him after the day's mission was over with a wrist full of hairties and a brush in her hands. He didn’t think twice before following as she wordlessly led him to one of the long couches, allowing himself to be sat on the floor in front of her.

“How is school going?” Anita asked, setting aside the brush to run her skilled fingers through his thick hair.

Bart couldn’t help but snort at the ice breaker. It was something Wally or Barry would awkwardly ask him when they didn’t know how to start a conversation. However, whereas they would say it with this weird, stilted energy, Anita said it casually.

“It’s been good. I joined my school's conservation club recently. It’s really easy to clean up all the waste around the city with my speed, but something about working as a team and slowly making somewhere look nice and clean is really…rewarding I guess.” He replied. Anita hummed.

“Any friends in that club?” She asked, fingers deftly dividing his hair into sections.

“I joined with Rolly and Carol. Preston was going to join too, but then the school started up this film club that runs at the same time, and he couldn’t miss the opportunity.” Bart said, rolling his eyes at the reminder of Preston’s betrayal.

“How are Max and Helen?” Anita asked. 

“They’re doing great actually. They’ve both had more free time than usual recently so we’ve been spending more time together. It is honestly a little painful playing board games with them, though. It feels like it takes them both an eternity to take their turns.” He admitted, frowning at the memory. Behind him, Anita giggled as she tugged the strands of hair into place.

“I understand that. It’s a nightmare when my family plays card games. They’re way too strategic about it, especially with Uno. I swear it takes hours before even a single card is played!” She exclaimed, pulling a laugh from Bart in turn.

“We tried to play Uno once, but Max got so angry he refused to talk to me and Helen for the rest of the night. Poor Matt, he got the cold shoulder for nearly a whole week! All because he hit Max with a draw six.” Bart lamented. Anita gently, but firmly, righted his head when he went to shake it in mock disappointment at  his guardian's petty grudge.

“That sounds about right,” She said, “We had to remove those cards from our deck to get uncle Maad to play.”

“No way!” He laughed incredulously.

“Yes way!” She laughed along, fingers pausing in Bart’s hair for a moment so she wouldn’t pull at it while she tried to calm her giggles.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence a few moments later, cheeks hurting from all the smiling and laughter. Not too long later, Anita slid a yellow hairtie with a star charm on it down her wrist and pulled the end of the braid into it. She gently patted him on the head to let him know she was done and he took it as an invitation to give her a big hug, which she returned.

He thanked her and they went their separate ways, both in a hurry now to get home after the long day. On his way out, Bart caught sight of the beautiful French braid Anita had done for him in the reflection of one of the big glass windows. He stopped to turn his head from side to side, admiring her work with a wide grin. It looked beautiful.

I love you 

7.

One of the Ken’ts cows was due to give birth soon, which meant that Ma Kent was stressed, which meant she was stress baking, which meant lots and lots of baked goods to go around. When she inevitably made too much for the family to finish on their own, it was only natural that she would load up a foil pan to the brim with fresh Brownies and hand them off to Kon on his way to a Young Justice meetup. Being the perpetually hungry teenagers they were, the team swarmed the baked goods like a shiver of hungry sharks that got a whiff of blood in the water. The previously full pan only had a handful of squares remaining in a matter of seconds.

“Kon these are heavenly.” Bart moaned around a mouthful of warm, fudgy brownie. “You’re Ma needs a reward for these or something, I could eat them every day for the rest of my life.”

A bit dramatic, yes; but, hey, they were really good brownies. Kon looked thoughtful at that, a tilt to his head as he studied Bart like a specimen under a microscope. Bart smiled at the attention, uncaring of the mess of brownie that was probably clinging to his teeth as he did so. Kon raised his eyebrow in amusement and slid the rest of the brownies over to him.

Bart didn’t need to be told twice before he was polishing the rest of them off in one go, the foil pan empty in the blink of an eye; literally. Kon laughed at the display while the others all whined in unison, chastising him for not saving any for the rest of them.

Somehow, the stream of sweets didn’t stop, even after the calf had been born (it came out healthy and adorable, for the record). Different sweets and baked goods, all courtesy of Ma Kent, would show up to their meetings and hangouts without fail. Which was awesome. What teenager wouldn't love being brought homemade desserts all the time? However, Bart began to notice something was up. Sometimes the sweets would taste different, too different to be a mishap in the kitchen, and Bart knew Ma Kent was too skilled a baker to make mistakes on a recipe at all. They would also be a little more sloppy, a little misshapen or  varying widely in size. Not that he cared. Sweets are sweets, after all. It was just something he had taken notice of.

He came to the conclusion that Kon had started baking them himself, and so he did the only thing natural in this situation. He brought it up.

“Hey, did you make this one?” Bart asked around a mouthful of blueberry pie. Kon seemed to flush a bright red. Bart had to stop himself from laughing at the mental image of Kon with the head of a tomato.

“Is it that bad?” Kon asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Bart tilted his head to the side questioningly.

“No? It tastes awesome.” He said incredulously. What a stupid thing for Kon to say.

“How could you tell then?” He questioned.

“Well, it just looks a little less…” He thought of his words carefully, “neat? I guess?”

At that, Kon laughed.

“I can’t deny that. I’m still new to all of this. I still haven’t gotten the presentation down to a T just yet. Ma is still worlds better at it than I am.” He admitted. He cut another slice of the pie and put it on Bart’s plate. Bart kept eating as if he didn’t notice.

“How come you started baking? New hobby?” He asked, taking another large bite, licking the blueberry syrup from the fork, something he couldn’t get away with doing around Max, lest he spend the next hour or two getting lectured on table manners.

“Ma is a busy woman and I know you like sweets, so I thought, hey why not give it a shot? I get practice in the kitchen and my best bud gets an endless supply of sweets. Win, win.” Kon explained. He refused to meet Bart’s eyes and his cheeks were still red. For some reason, Bart felt his own face grow warm. Weird.

“Hhm. . . Well, I’m not going to complain. You’re the best!” Bart said before returning his attention to destroying the pie as fast as he could.

I love you 

8.

Bart hated shopping. He could usually do a full sweep of a store four times over and find everything he needed by the time the others were done looking at one rack of clothes. It was so slow and incredibly boring, so he rarely ever tagged along when his friends went to the mall. They understood his reasons and didn’t push him to join, though he could tell that they were sad every time he said no when they still asked to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind. That alone was enough to make him feel warm inside, to be honest, that his presence was missed. It made him feel like he belonged. 

He was currently playing his Gameboy on Cassie’s bed, waiting for the others to return from one such shopping spree. He was technically early - Cassie had invited him to a movie marathon that was planned for when they got home - but her mom had let him in when he knocked so he figured there wasn’t a problem. Cassie probably wouldn’t care anyway.

He didn’t look up as the door opened and his friends all piled into the cramped room, only raising his hand to give a short wave before returning to his game. His high score on Tetris wasn’t going to beat itself.

“Bart! Why are you in my room?” Cassie said, her annoyance all fake and played up.

“Your mom let me in like an hour ago or something.” He answered. He cursed under his breath and set the handheld down as his stack got too high, the Game Over screen flashing mockingly at him only a few clears away from beating his score. He glared at it. Stupid thing.

Kon and Tim were dropping a bunch of bags on the floor as Greta impatiently waited to go through them off to the side. Bart thinks the mall trip might have been for her since she needed new clothes, but he didn’t quite remember. 

“Oh, Bart, hi. I’m glad you’re here.” Cissie said, appearing in the doorway and shouldering past Tim, who halfheartedly grumbled in annoyance as he gave her a playful glare. She stuck her tongue out at him before rooting around in one of the bags hanging off of her arms.

She gave a triumphant yell as she pulled out something small from one of the bags. She made her way over to him and held the object out with a closed fist, hiding it from his view.

“A present? For moi?” Bart asked, batting his eyelashes at her. He sat up properly in Cassie’s bed and held his hand out to receive the gift. Cissie rolled her eyes and dropped it into his ready palm.

“I saw it while we were in line and thought of you.” She explained before going over to where Greta was happily digging through her new clothes and dropping down beside the younger girl with the other bags.

Bart looked down at his open hand and examined the gift. It was a small keychain no bigger than his thumb in the shape of Cherub from After-Life Avenger. Cissie must have seen him reading the comic during one of their hangouts. The sidekick was in his iconic fighting pose. The paint was poorly applied and his smile was wonky, likely from some kind of factory error. It was hideous, and it was perfect.

A wide grin spread across his face, a warmth in his chest. He pocketed the keychain and jumped off the bed to join his friends on the floor, ready to help Greta organize some outfits. 

I love you

9.

“So, do you think you’ll be able to make it?” Carol pestered, shoving the flyer into his hands. “It would really mean a lot to me if you came to this.”

Bart stared down at the poster, the font bond and in his face. “New Hampshire Cheer Competition!! Finals this Saturday 11/15 Don’t miss it! Be there, or be square!” He blinked at it and then looked back up at Carol’s anticipatory face, her eyes shining behind her glasses. 

“Sure, I’ll be there.” He promised.

And that was how Bart found himself pressed in between Preston and Rolly on a set of tiny bleacher benches in the gym of a school two towns over. He had wanted to run here when he heard the distance, but Preston had insisted on carpooling with his dad, so Bart was pressured into sitting through the agonizing hour and a half long drive over here.

He grumbled and elbowed Rolly in the ribs when the other scooted way too close to him in order to make room for an elderly man who was very intent on sitting on the same bench as them. He regretted his choice to wear a thick flannel today. Despite it being cold outside, it was way too hot in this cramped gym. Why did they choose this school to do their competition at? Their gym was way bigger than this one! Stupid…

His sour mood quickly dissipated when Carol and her team walked into the gym, however. He watched his best friend scan the crowd with squinted eyes, a hand shielding her face from the fluorescent lights up above. He decided to make it easier for her to spot them, raising his hand high as it would go and giving a big, dramatic wave. He definitely got way too into Rolly and Preston’s personal space as he did so, but honestly? It was revenge for making him sit in the middle. Take that. 

Carol spotted him immediately, a grin stretching across her face as she waved back just as dramatically, hitting one of her teammates in the head with her elbow in the process. She immediately withdrew her attention from her friends to apologize to the laughing girl, who waved her off before gesturing towards their team, who were leaving both of them behind. Carol gave one more small before moving to join back up with her team.

Bart had to admit, the competition was impressive. He didn’t even know many heroes who could do some of the flips that Carol and her team were doing, and even less who had the communication skills to work so in sync without even uttering a word. 

Carol’s team didn’t win, but they came in third place, which wasn’t too bad. Bart would admit that he did start to zone out at this point, bored to pieces by the long winded award ceremony. He cheered when everyone else did, but counted ceiling tiles with his chin resting on his closed fist in the meantime.

Eventually the competition was over and the crowd began emptying out of the double doors at the back of the gym. Bart followed his group out and to Preston’s dad’s car with his hands in his pockets, idly chatting with Preston and Wade as he went. Suddenly there was one arm thrown around Bart’s shoulder, another around Preston’s, forcing them both to bend over slightly.

“Hey, boys!” Carol’s excited voice shouted into their ears. Her hair was disheveled and frizzy, her face flushed from both the past hours of physical activity and the biting cold weather. Her smile was as bright as the sun, happiness radiating off of her in waves despite the fact that she hadn’t won.

“Carol! Hey! You did amazing out there!” Preston exclaimed, throwing his arm around her waist and giving her a sort of side hug.

“Aw, thanks. You’re sweet. My team did most of the work though.” She said, leaning away from Bart to return the semi-hug.

“Sorry you guys didn’t win,” Bart said, “You really did do awesome.”

“Psh, who cares about winning. I’m just really glad you guys are here.” She said, giving him a similar side hug as Preston. And Bart could tell that she really meant it.

I love you

10 .

Bart felt a little silly if he was being entirely honest. He had been in louder, more crowded situations than this before. Hell, he had been to concerts in the past, performed in them even! This shouldn't be affecting him in the slightest. And yet, for some reason, as he stood in the mosh pit of some concert Cissie had convinced them all to go to with her, he felt more overwhelmed than he had in probably his whole life. Or, at least that is what it felt like.

The pulsing lights, the roaring cheers, the incomprehensible lyrics screamed into a crackling mic, the pressure of a million sweaty bodies crowding up against his own; it was all too much.

In the blink of an eye, he was zipping through the crowd and out of the door of the concert hall. He doesn’t know where he went or how he got there, but he found himself pressed up against a cold, concrete wall, shivering slightly in the chilly air. There was a cold sweat breaking out across his overly warm body, leaving him feeling even more uncomfortable. His breath came out in short pants as it crystalized in front of him. He tried to get control of his rapidly beating heart, pressing a fist firmly into the underside of his ribs and feeling it pound against his sternum like it was trying to burst free.

He took deep breaths through his nose and exhaled out of his mouth, just like Max had taught him. It didn’t seem to be doing much, though. He squeezed his eyes closed and leaned his head against the concrete, uncaring of the way the action pulled on his hair.

He let out a gasp when a frigid hand suddenly slipped into his own. He opened his eyes and found Greta sitting right beside him, her legs pulled up to her chest. One arm was resting on her knees so as to cushion her chin, and the other was pressed between the two of them where she was holding his hand. She was making a point to not look at him.

He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t have to. Her actions and presence alone were enough to say I'm here for you. She just sat there with him in silence until Bart finally got his breathing under control. Then, she leaned her head against his shoulder and her thumb rubbed circles into his knuckles. Bart took one more deep breath, now comforted by the presence of his friend, and he never felt lighter. He leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes a second time.

I love you

11.

Bart lay on the hood of Cissie’s car with his hands folded over his stomach, Greta on one side of him and Cassie on the other. Greta was fast asleep under a pink and yellow star print blanket, head cushioned by her arms, while Cassie was chatting up a storm with Cissie, who was sitting on the roof above them. Tim was next to her, pointing a camera up at the sky and meticulously taking pictures of the stars. Kon and Slobo were playing with Krypto somewhere off to the side. Anita was watching them from where she sat in one of the car's open doors, her laughter quiet but still loud enough to be heard.

They had come out to watch the stars, but most of them had lost interest in that a long time ago. Now they were just enjoying each other's company. 

Bart lazily blinked up at the cosmos as the drone of his friends talking and laughter filled his ears. He wasn’t tired, really; it was more of a content drowsiness that was washing over him, brought on by a feeling of utter safety and comfort. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in it.

He didn’t even notice he had begun to shiver a little until something warm and heavy was tossed over his body. He cracked his eyes open just enough to see Slobo standing on the bumper of Cissie’s car, hands planted on his boney hips and a disapproving look on his face as he glared down at Bart's half asleep body. Bart further saw that it was the other teen’s insulated leather jacket that was now draped over Bart like a blanket. 

“Idiot, I told him to bring a fraggin’ coat of his own.” Slobo said to no one in particular, shaking his head in what was clearly meant to be disappointment.

“You know, we had spare blankets in the trunk, Slobo. You could have given him one of those.” Cissie said, amused. 

“That’s too much fraggin’ work, scrounging up one of those. Nah, this is just fine. He can use that for now.” Slobo said before hopping off the bumper to go back to where Kon and Krypto were waiting for him. Bart slipped his eyes shut once more, snuggling into the warmth of the jacket.

I love you

+1  

Bart  had been thinking a lot lately; about love and what it meant. 

He couldn’t claim to know exactly what it meant to love or be loved, but, really, who did? There were a million different ways to say I love you. It was near impossible to even try to comprehend the true extent of the word. 

Love was the heavy weight of a warm meal sitting in your stomach after a hard day. It was fingers weaving beautiful patterns into your hair while you talked and talked about anything and everything. It’s the sticky residue of homemade blueberry pie on your fingers, staining the corner of your mouth as you clean your plate and go in for more. It was a lovingly crafted cassette with wearing tape that you listen to almost everyday, a flush on your cheeks as you absorbed the true intentions behind each carefully selected song. 

Love was a small gift to say “I’m thinking of you”. It was a detailed report looking out for your safety. An invitation to watch someone do what they enjoy so that you may share in their happiness. A cold hand holding your own when your heart won’t seem to slow down. It’s a jacket draped over you like a blanket as you drift off to sleep to the sounds of laughter. 

Love was all of this and so, so much more.

So, while he may never know just what that four letter word meant by definition, he didn’t need to. He was already certain of one thing; he is beyond loved and he is full of it. That simple knowledge was more than enough for him.

#bart allen #konbart #bartpres #bartpreston #preston lindsay #carol bucklen #helen claiborne #max mercury #not tagging everyone here sorry #inkywriting #i had more planned out but as many of you here on tumblr know i was sick a LOT last year #so i had to scrap a few scenes (meloni i'm sorry I love you) in order to make it in time #i still like the way it turned out though and I had a lot of fun writing it #so I hope that you enjoy it <3333 #flash family #long post

[alitotalyours]

DC Masterlist

Batman (multi-media)

>Batman/Bruce Wayne

Headcanons:

Female Bruce Wayne would look like if you mixed Lana Del Ray and Angelina Jolie in a good way.

Scenarios:

Oneshots:

Fics:

Prompts:

>Oracle/Barbara Gordon

coming soon...

>Nightwing/Dick Grayson

coming soon...

>Red Hood/Jason Todd

coming soon...

>Red Robin/Timothy Drake

coming soon...

>Black Bat/Cassandra Cain

coming soon...

>Spoiler/Stephanie Brown

coming soon...

>Signal/Duke Thomas

coming soon...

>Robin/Damian Wayne

coming soon...

Super Man (Multi-Media)

>Superman/Clark Kent/Kal-el

coming soon...

>Lois Lane

coming soon...

>Super Boy/Conner Kent/Kon-El

coming soon...

>Super Girl/Kara Danvers/Kara Zor-El

coming soon...

>Super Boy/Johnathan Samuel Kent/Jon-El

coming soon...

Wonder Woman (Multi- Media)

>Wonder Woman/Diana Prince

coming soon...

>Wonder girl/Donna Troy

coming soon...

>Wonder Girl/Cassie Sandsmark

coming soon...

Flash (Multi-Media)

>Flash/Barry Allen

coming soon...

>Flash/Wally West

coming soon...

>Impulse/Bart Allen

coming soon...

Teen Titans (Main cast)

>Robin

coming soon...

>Starfire

coming soon...

>Cyborg

coming soon...

>Raven

coming soon...

>BeastBoy

coming soon...

Miscellaneous

Headcanons:

Scenarios:

Oneshots:

Fics:

Prompts:

Thomas as The Batman...but where is Bruce?

#DC #DC headcanons #DC imagine #Batman #Nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin #black bat #spoiler #signal #oracle #superman #superboy #supergirl #wonderwoman #wondergirl #flash #impulse #teen titans #young justice #young justice academy #justice league #x reader #x oc #batmom #batsis #batdad #batbro #supermom

[thewriterwithnoplan]

OLD MASTERLIST ;

LAST UPDATED: august 13, 2022

DC ;

– mouse meet cat (bart allen) [oneshot]

– their perfect girl (billy batson) [oneshot]

– fire, brimstone and the glory of gotham (bart allen) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

– smallville (jon kent) [1] [2] [3] [4] [christmas special]

– dirty and useless (titans!jason todd) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [christmas special]

– you know him? (tim drake) [oneshot]

– night (damian wayne) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] 

– soft boy - silk girl (dick grayson) [oneshot]

Marvel ;

– vibranium (bucky barnes) [1]

– the anti-hero (peter parker) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] 

The Umbrella Academy ;

– incarnate (five hargreeves) [prologue] [1]

Steven Universe ;

– a diamonds court [1] [2]

Percy Jackson ;

– moonlight (nico di angelo) [1]

– half way (leo valdez) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] 

Throne of Glass ;

– still fighting (aedion ashryver) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

A Court of Thorns And Roses ;

– between the courts (cassian) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

Crossovers ; 

SUPERNATURAL x LUCIFER

– the huntress from hell [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11]

SUPERNATURAL x DC

– hell and back [1] [1.5]

DC x STEVEN UNIVERSE

– gem (damian wayne) [1] [2] [3]

THRONE OF GLASS x A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES

– world walker (fenrys moonbeam) [1] [2] [3] [4] 

please be kind, these works are incredibly outdated and do not (in my opinion) reflect my current style. 

#navigation #masterlist

[ao3feed-blpls]

June/Pride Month Drabbles

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/IxU2Qe9

by KacheFanfic

A collection of short drabbles/oneshots. Hopefully one for every day of pride month.

Words: 354, Chapters: 1/30, Language: English

Fandoms: Young Justice (Cartoon)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Characters: Jaime Reyes, Bart Allen, Khaji Da

Relationships: Bart Allen/Khaji Da/Jaime Reyes, Bart Allen/Jaime Reyes, Khaji Da/Jaime Reyes, Bart Allen/Khaji Da

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Drabble

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/IxU2Qe9

#fanfiction #young justice (cartoon) #bart allen/jaime reyes #bart/jaime #ship: bluepulse #bluepulse

[a1307s]

Companion #2

(Bart Allen)

[Art is not mine! Credit to battysketches]

Requested by: Feketealkony16

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 5,760

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

None

——————————————————————

My companion and I have been spending a lot of time together over the past couple of weeks. We have a nice routine that makes me calm. I like knowing what is going to happen, and with Bart, I always know when stuff is going to happen and how it's going to happen.

However, recently Bart has insisted on sleeping in my bed with me at night. I'm not sure why but he keeps asking me, so I finally said yes last night. It's weird waking up with him in my bed. I'm not sure what to do. Usually, I get up and shower before breakfast, and then Bart makes us pancakes. Am I supposed to do that today too?

I shift in bed so I'm sitting against the board in the front. Bart stirs a bit, rolling over so his head is buried between my thigh and the bedding. He stays still for a second before shifting again, his head staying in place but his arm resting against my hips. For whatever reason, Bart has started touching me a lot. He seems to like touching my hips, but again, I'm not sure why.

Usually, I don't like people other than Conner touching me. I do like Bart touching me too though. I like the little sparks that bounce off of him when he's excited. I did end up asking Artemis about the electric sparks and she said Wally does it too when he gets really happy. She also said that Wally doesn't know it's happening because he's used to electricity running threw him so it's hard for him to tell when it's being transferred to something or someone else. I'm pretty sure it's the same for my companion.

Once again, Bart shifts, this time he props himself up so I can see his face, but his arm stays put. When his eyes blink open, sparks start bouncing off of him and colliding against my hips. He is happy, good. "G'morning," He mumbles, a sleepy smile on his face as he looks up at me.

"Good morning," I say back, turning my head away from him. My chest always feels tight when Bart smiles at me. I asked Batgirl about it, and she said it sounds like I have a crush on Bart. I don't know what a crush is, but she explained it as me liking him. Of course, I like him, he's my companion. If I didn't like him, he wouldn't be my companion. Duh.

"Y/N," Bart whines, tightening his hold on me as he buries his head between my hip and his arm. "Look at me!" I obey, turning back to him. His head pokes out as he keeps it rested on us. His smile widens, the sleepiness draining from his face. "Good morning, Mamas."

That is new. I don't know if it's good new. It makes me tingle, but not the tingling I get from the electricity leaving Bart, it's a different tingle. "Good morning," I repeat, once again turning away from him. I think it's a good tingle. It makes me feel like I want my companion to touch me more.

As if he can read my mind, Bart wraps his other arm behind my back, tugging me some so more of himself is on top of my lap. His head is shifted to my other leg, his heart being pressed into my thigh as he lays across me. Recently, when I get overwhelmed - that's the new word Black Canary taught me last week; she says it explains me getting upset about the lights and my emotions - I've been listening to Bart's heartbeat instead of Conner's.

"Why won't you look at me?" He asks, his hands rubbing my hips as he cuddles himself up on my legs. He reminds me of a cat doing this. Sometimes Garfield will transfer into a cat and lay on me, so I'll pet him.

"You make my chest hurt when I look at you too long," I mumble, glancing down at him.

"Oh," He murmurs, his face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean it hurts?"

I scan around my room, trying to find anything other than him to look at. "I don't know... it just... feels tight sometimes."

"Oh," Bart repeats, his tone a lot happier this time. "My chest does that too. Usually when you laugh." Maybe Bart likes me too. I hope so or else I'd be a bad companion. Am I a bad companion to Bart? I hope not. I want to make him happy.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, his hands no longer rubbing my bones and instead gently pushing the hem of my pajama shirt up. A small sliver of my skin shows, which seems to be holding Bart's attention as he pushes his fingertips into it. I don't think I like that, but I do like the feeling of the sparks against a new part of my skin.

"I don't know what to do," I murmur, watching Bart as he watches his fingers roll over my skin. Maybe I do like it, and it's just making me nervous because it's new.

I don't like new things and there's a lot of them happening right now. Bart sleeping in my bed all night, Bart waking up in my bed this morning, and now Bart touching my bare stomach. He's slept in my bed before because we've taken naps together, but he usually spends the night in his bed. Since we've taken naps before, we've woken up in each other's beds, but our naps are usually only an hour or so and never after eight at night. He's also touched me in a lot of places: my arms, my thighs, my back, and even my stomach. The only bare skin he's ever touched is my hands, arms, and face though.

"What do you mean you don't know what to do?" He asks, pushing my shirt up a little more as his fingers slide over my sides, right above my hips. His eyes stay attached to his fingers as if it takes a lot of focusing to touch my skin. Maybe it does. I've only touched the same skin he's touched on me; well before today anyway. I don't see why it would take so much focus though.

"Well, usually I'm in the shower by now, but I'm not. I'm still in bed, with you touching me."

Bart's fingers stop moving, staying put on my side as he looks up at me. I make myself look down, focusing on his eyes as I try to breathe the tightness out of my chest. It's not the tightness I'm used to having around Bart. It's the tightness I would get after I knew I failed a test. "Do you not like me touching you?"

I think about it for a minute, like Canary has told me to do. She's told me just because I feel uneasy about something doesn't mean I don't enjoy it. It just means I'm worried about what is going to happen. "It makes me worry," I finally answer, looking away from Bart again. My breathing hasn't helped with my lungs.

"About what?" He asks, sliding soft circles into me. I can still feel his eyes on the side of my face, which doesn't help my thinking.

"Why you're touching me. If you want me to touch you. If you expect anything from me because you're touching me."

Bart stays silent, the only sounds filling my ears being his heart and lungs, along with the soft sound of our skin running against each other. "Well, I'm touching you because I like how you feel... That sounds creepy," he falls quiet again, spacing out a bit. "I'm touching you because it's how I show and how I feel that someone cares. I would like you to touch me back, but you never have to do anything you don't want to when I'm around. If you don't want to touch me, then don't, I won't be mad."

I roll his words over for a bit before looking down at him. "Where would you like me to touch you?" Hopefully, it's somewhere okay, like his hair. I really want to touch his hair.

"A few places. You can touch me wherever you're comfortable touching. I won't be mad no matter what you decide." Once again, I roll the words over in my head. Does he think that I think he's mad? I slowly move my hands to his head, letting them rest for a beat before I slide my hands through his locks. They're soft against my fingers, causing waves of calmness to start to sprout.

We sit like this for a while, Bart rolling circles into different parts of my stomach, and me playing with his hair. I start trying to braid it, like I've seen M'gann do to Cassie's hair, but Bart's hair isn't long enough to make a good braid.

After a bit, Bart shifts, sitting up in bed across from me. "I'm going to take a shower," he starts, tilting his head some as he looks over my face. "Do you want to take a shower with me?"

"No," I yap out, panic quickly eating away at the calmness that was previously present.

"Okay, you don't have to," he says softly as he slowly reaches his hand towards me. I stay still, petrified with fear despite his present smile that usually makes my chest tight, not fearful. His hand is gentle as he places it against my cheek, his thumb gently sliding against my skin. For whatever reason, this is another thing Bart likes to do.

"Please go away," the fear pushes out of me before I can stop it. I don't like this, I don't like him touching me, and I don't like Bart anymore. He's a scary companion. He's going to hurt me.

     Bart's smile drops a bit, but is still present, and still scary. "Okay," he says softly, dropping his touch from me before sliding off my bed. I stay put as I watch him walk into the bathroom.

Once the door is shut behind him, I shoot up from bed and make my way out of my room. I do not feel happy, I do not feel nice, I do not feel good. All of can think about is my pod and Luther and pain.

I need to find Birdman so he can call Canary. I need to talk to her. I do not like feeling scared, and I really don't like feeling scared of Bart. He's my companion, he's supposed to make me feel good, feel loved, feel safe, someone I'm supposed to trust. I do not feel any of that. I feel scared of him, scared of him seeing me. Why would he want to see me like that? Why would he want to take a shower with me? Does he want to hurt me? What test did I fail?

My mind is a fog, my breathing feeling labored, and my nervous shaking as I race into the living room. I can hear Conner trying to get my attention, but I ignore him. "Nightwing?" I call, walking up to the team leader who's tucked into a corner of the kitchen. I tug on the arm of his shirt, pulling his attention down to me with a soft hum. "We need to go on a walk."

————————————

Canary is sitting across from me, her body language open and her pen and pad ready to write down what I say. I open my mouth again to try and explain this morning but once again, nothing comes out. "Take your time, Y/N, the league knows I'm not on call, so we have all day to figure this out," her words are soft, like always.

I like Canary, she is nice, and patient, and helps me with all my thoughts and feelings. When I first started talking with her, she told me she used to and still does help Conner - and other heroes - with the same thing so it's okay that I ask for her help.

"Bart keeps asking to sleep in my bed at night," I finally push out, shifting my gaze around the room. Even though it feels nice to talk to her and I feel safe with Canary, it still feels overwhelming to talk about stuff sometimes.

"Yes, we talked about it at our last session, do you remember what you said about it?"

     I think about it for a moment, trying to remember. "I said that I don't know how I feel about it." Canary stays quiet, her eyes soft as she looks at me. "He asked again last night, and I said yes."

"Why did you say yes? Did you want to say yes, or did you say yes so he'd stop asking?"

I think about it for a moment, trying to relive the moment and the emotions I had during the discussion with Bart. "I felt... happy when he asked. I thought it would be nice. I like our naps so I figured it would just be a really long nap. That's why I said yes. I like it when I go to sleep next to Bart, it makes me feel... like I'm important to him. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, it makes sense," Canary says, bringing some relief to me as she scribbles in her notes. "How was it? Before bed? When you were getting ready to sleep and when you laid down for the night?"

Once again, I think about it, trying to relive the memory. "I was already ready for bed when Bart showed up. We watched a movie - it was about some talking cars - and we sat next to each other, with Bart's arm around my hips. He keeps touching my hips. Why is he doing that?"

"I'm not hundred percent sure because I'm not Bart. Why do you think he does it?" I hate when she does this. When she makes it obvious she knows the answer but won't tell me what the answer is. It's supposed to 'encourage my thoughts and feelings to get to find the answer' which is stupid. If I knew the answer I wouldn't have asked the question.

"I don't know."

"I think you do, you're just scared of the answer." Maybe Canary isn't as nice as I thought.

I think over the question for a while, nothing but space in between Canary and me. "Well, today Bart said he likes how I feel, and then said he sounded creepy so he changed his answer to something about showing care and being shown it, I don't know."

Once again, the older hero stays silent, scribbling away at her notes. "Repeat that." This is really stupid.

"Bart said he likes how-"

"Not that part, the last part." Why did I ask to talk to Canary? This is a waste of time.

"His answer was something about showing care and feeling cared for," I repeat, my anger bubbling with my words.

"Again," she orders, not helping the growing frustration.

"Bart said he likes touching me because it's how he shows he cares and how he feels that he is cared about - oh..." Maybe Canary isn't stupid, and maybe I don't like the answer. Why would Bart care about me? I know he's supposed to since he's my companion and all, but other than supposedly having to, why does he?

There's a soft smile on her face as she looks at me. "See? You did know the answer, you just needed help putting the pieces together. What was the rest of the night like?"

"I don't know. We laid down after the movie and went to sleep."

"Was Bart touching you when you went to sleep?"

Why does that matter? "Yes, he had his arms around my hips and back like he did this morning."

"Why do you think he did that?"

I think about it for a moment. "Because... he was showing he cares...?"

Canary hums a yes as she nods in agreement. "People feel cared for in different ways. Some people - like Robin - feel cared for when people get them stuff like coffee, love letters, or even something as simple as a rock. Other people - like Bart - feel cared for when they're touched like hugs, kisses, and holding hands. Most of the time people show they care in the same way they feel cared for."

"Are those the only ways to feel cared for? I don't like any of those things."

Canary smiles softly again, before speaking. "There are five love languages. The two we already talked about are called receiving gifts and physical touch. There are acts of service like Batgirl helping Nightwing with paperwork. Words of affirmation is another one, stuff like being told you're doing good-"

"Ew," I say before I can stop myself. "I hate when Nightwing and Conner do that."

Canary nods, propping her head up with her arm. "Your love language is quality time. Stuff like napping with Bart or sitting with him when he plays his video games." I nod, the same way Canary does, as I roll her words around my head. I feel bad for thinking she was stupid, she's smart. "So, the time before sleeping was good, how was the actual sleeping?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, my confusion washing away all the understanding I had a second ago. I think this is why I don't like talking to Canary sometimes. She's good at making stuff make sense, and then ruining it the next time she asks a question.

"Did you sleep through the night?"

"Oh, I woke up a few times. I'd panic for a while before I realized it was Bart."

Back to silence, sounds of breathing and Canary's pen filling the space between us once again. "How'd this morning go?" She finally asks, being the one to break the silence again.

"I woke up confused."

"Because Bart was there?"

"Yes and no," I answer, getting a head tilt from the lady across from me. That usually means I answered in a way she wasn't prepared for. "I was happy to see Bart when I woke up and I did finally remember he was supposed to be there but I didn't know what to do. I didn't know if I should stick to my routine or not because waking up with him in my bed isn't part of my normal schedule."

"You don't do very well with change," She says softly like she does every time we discuss a change in my life.

"I know," I answer shortly, like always. "He ended up waking up shortly after and kept touching me again."

"Did you not like him touching you?"

"I didn't mind him touching me for most of it."

"And for the rest of it?"

I go silent again, replaying this morning in my head, trying to remember my thoughts and feelings in the moment. "Bart just... touched me differently I guess."

"Try rewording that." Occasionally Canary will say this, usually when she needs more context or doesn't understand what I'm saying.

"Bart... lifted my shirt. Not like a lot! Just a little bit, and kept touching my skin on my stomach and sides and I don't know," I rush out with a heavy tone, using my hands to model how much skin was showing. "It wasn't a lot," I repeat, a lot softer this time.

"Does it matter whether it was a little or a lot?"

Yes, it does. Why wouldn't it? "Different things happen depending on how much clothing is off. If it's a little bit it's just a check up and if it's a lot I get hurt."

Canary falls silent, pen still and her heart beats a bit faster. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. "Is that what happened when you were with Luther?" Her voice is a little uneven, but I'm surprised. Anytime we talk about how Luther used to hurt me her heartbeat picks up.

"Ya, it did. Do you think Bart would hurt me?"

Again, silence from the lady across from me, but her pen is at work this time and her heart is back to normal. "No one can be hundred percent sure someone else won't hurt anyone, but I do believe Bart wouldn't ever hurt you."

"Why?"

Silence. More silence, and then... some more silence. I hate how long Canary takes to answer my questions. "Has Conner talked to you about having a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

That's not an answer, that's another question. I think Canary just likes to make me angry. "He said I can love whoever I want to love, girlfriend or boyfriend."

She hums, no pen marks this time. "Do you know what a boyfriend or girlfriend is?" I shake my head no. I don't know what one is or the use of one. "A boyfriend or girlfriend is a lot like a friend. Do you know what a friend is?"

"A friend is someone you care about and trust and spend time with."

Another hum and another nod. "A boyfriend or girlfriend is kind of like that. A lot of the time, they start as friends or companions in your case, before a deeper relationship develops."

"I still don't see a difference."

"Well with a boyfriend or girlfriend, you tend to be more... physical. You do things like kiss among other things that you wouldn't do with a friend. Unlike a friend, you only have one and there's stuff you only do with them. Oh, and a boyfriend is a test run for a husband."

"What's a husband?"

"Let's save that discussion for after we get the boyfriend-girlfriend thing down."

"What's a girlfriend?" I ask finally, it's been three months since the first time I heard of it. The question has sat in my head ever since.

"Same as a boyfriend but it's a girl instead of a boy." Oh, that's simple. It makes me feel dumb for not figuring that out on my own. "Nightwing tells me you were having a panic attack when you came to find him."

"Panic attack?" I echo, confused about this and still confused about the whole boyfriend thing. I don't like feeling confused, it makes me angry and reminds me how little I know about the world because of Luther.

"Yes, it's when it's hard to breathe and you feel very scared, and it's hard to think straight because of your emotions. All you think about is your fear and what's causing it." Ya, I definitely had a panic attack earlier. "What happened right before you felt like that?"

I stay quiet, mentally going over the event. I know what happened. I remember all of this morning. I don't know why it makes me so scared. It shouldn't be scary for Bart to want my clothes off, right? Maybe it should be.

"Bart... he asked me to... he wanted to take a shower together," I stumble out, struggling on how to form my sentence.

"And that made you feel scared?"

I nod, propping my arms on my knees before burying my face into my hands. "Why would that make me feel scared? Why would it cause a panic attack?"

Like always, I have to wait for Canary to finish her writing and thoughts before she answers. From between my fingers, I watch as she leans forward, sitting in a similar pose to me. "I think that the idea of being without clothes around someone scares you because it reminds you of the things Luther has done to you. I also think that Bart believes he's your boyfriend. Have you two talked about that? Or kissed? Or anything else that you haven't done with another member of the team?"

The first half of Canary's speech makes sense. I understand that, I remember the fear I felt, the fear that before today, Luther was the only one to make me feel. The second half... not so much. Why would Bart think he's my boyfriend? We haven't kissed or anything else. We do things together, we spend time together, and we take naps.

"We haven't kissed and we haven't talked about him being my boyfriend. We hold hands but I do that with Conner as well. We take naps together too but again I do that with Conner."

"It's different with Conner. There's stuff you do and say with family that you wouldn't do with a friend." That doesn't make any sense either. My head hurts from all this thinking and I'm getting angry. I have more questions than answers. This isn't helping.

"People are confusing," I mumble, rubbing my face before sitting up straight.

Canary stays put, giving me another soft smile. I'm really starting to not like it when she smiles at me. "How about we stop for the day, ya? I'll come back and we can talk again tomorrow."

"What do I do about Bart?" I ask as she stands up and starts collecting her things.

It takes a second - like usual - for Canary to answer. "I think you should have a serious talk with him. See if he thinks he's your boyfriend. See if you want him to be your boyfriend. If you're happy with the talk, have another sleepover. If you're not, stay away from him today and we'll look into and talk about finding you another friend."

I don't want another friend. I want Bart. I want to keep him all to myself. For a long time, if not forever. Maybe I shouldn't want to keep him. Maybe that's me being possessive like Wolf gets about Conner and me. Conner always yells at Wolf about it so it has to be a bad thing, right? I need to find Bart and talk to him. Maybe he'll help my thoughts. Hopefully, he'll help my thoughts. As long as he doesn't make them worse.

————————————

My head is scattered when I walk back into my room. After my session with Canary, I went on a walk and then continued to walk, for two hours. Instead of helping, it just messed up my thoughts more. Canary didn't help, she just made me more confused.

Like earlier today, Conner calls for me as I walk through the living room. Once again, I ignore him. Conner tries to help with my thoughts but usually, he just confuses me or gets angry because he doesn't understand either.

A bit of relief runs through my veins when I swing my bedroom door open, but it's soon washed away. Laid out on my bed is my red-tinted companion, who instantly sits up when he hears the door open. "Y/N," he calls, jumping to his feet. "Are you okay? Nightwing said you had a panic attack. Did I cause it? What happened? Where have you been? Did I upset you? Did-"

"Please be quiet," I murmur, looking at my shoes as I try to push down my feelings. I'm upset that I made Bart worry, I'm upset that I can't control my fear, and I'm upset that Bart won't be quiet so I can answer his questions.

Surprisingly, Bart does silence. I can feel his eyes digging into me as I focus on my shoelaces. One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten... Maybe taking deep breaths and counting does help. "I am fine. I did have a panic attack, but it's fine. You did but didn't cause it. A lot has happened today. I was with Nightwing and then Canary and then I went on a walk. You did but didn't, once again."

"How did I both cause and not cause your panic attack? How did I cause and not cause you to be upset?" I glance at Bart, his face scrunched up and his eyes are pink. I decide to focus on the wall behind him instead. I don't like knowing I caused him to cry.

"You... I didn't... I don't like new and there was a lot of new this morning." My words stick in my throat a few times before I manage to get them out.

"I don't understand."

I sigh, glancing at his face again. His eyes are teary, making my heart feel like it's being squeezed. I don't want him upset, I want him happy, I'm supposed to make him happy. "I... liked you waking up in my bed. It feels... it makes me feel important."

"You are important. Very important to me, actually." Maybe my thoughts aren't always wrong. Why am I so important though? I don't do anything to be important. I definitely don't do anything to be important to Bart.

"The..." I stop for a second, running my fingers under my shirt. "That was fine. It was okay, but it made me a bit scared. Then you... kept touching me and... it makes me scared. Really, really scared." Bart steps forward a bit before stopping, causing himself to stand in an awkward half-leaning forward, half-staying put pose. "And... and then you asked to take a shower together and... all I could think about was you wanting to hurt me, about Luther hurting me."

Bart knows a lot about my time with Luther. He doesn't know the details like Canary and Conner do, but he knows about the tests, about the chocolate, about the hurting. He doesn't know about the on and off clothes, so I don't think it's fair that I'm upset with him. It's not fair for me to have a panic attack because of it. It's not fair that I make it seem like his fault.

"I didn't... I'm sorry," he mumbles, fixing himself so he finishes his step forward.

"It's not your fault. Luther hurt me, not you. It's not your fault. I just... I can't say no."

Bart takes slow steps forward, stopping right in front of me. His cheeks are wet. I made him cry. I don't want to make him cry. "I am sorry I kept touching you. I should have stopped when you told me you were worried. I know you... struggle with new things so I shouldn't have pushed anything new onto you this morning. I'm sorry."

His words feel nice. They make me feel calm. Silence envelopes us, it's not the usual gentle silence though, it's a heavy silence. "Do you think you're my boyfriend?"

Bart tilts his head some, his eyebrows pressing together in confusion. "Yes? Why are you asking? Do you not think I'm your boyfriend?"

Why would I think he's my boyfriend? I don't even know what a boyfriend is. Even with Canary's explanation, I'm still confused. "Canary told me that she thinks that you think you're my boyfriend. At the end of our session, she said to talk to you and see what you think and see if I want you to be my boyfriend. She also said if I'm happy with our talk to have another sleepover and if I'm unhappy to stop talking to you, which made me angry."

"I... have a lot of questions," Bart mumbles, confusion deeper on his face. "First, do you not know what a boyfriend is?"

"Not really. Canary said it was someone you are more physical with, and you kiss them, and you only have one, and something about a husband."

"Okay," he says, blinking his eyes a few times. "Um... a boyfriend is someone you love a lot. You do kiss them too and you do... other things that aren't important right now. It's someone you want to spend the rest of your life loving." Oh, that makes a lot more sense than what Canary said. "Why were you upset when Canary said to stop talking to me?"

Bart is dumb, and unlike Canary, he is actually dumb. "Because you're important. You're my companion. I want to keep you forever and I don't want anyone else to have you." Bart smiles at this but I'm not sure why. "But Conner yells at Wolf for being possessive so I don't think I'm supposed to feel like that."

Bart's smile gets bigger as he lets out an airy laugh. "Conner yells at Wolf because he growls when people get too close to you and when Conner spars. That's completely different from what you're feeling. You don't growl at people or threaten to hurt them if they talk or come near me." Oh... that makes a lot of sense.

"So, you're my boyfriend?"

"Do you want me to be your boyfriend?"

"Yes," I say, nodding in agreement to my statement.

"Do you actually want to spend the rest of your life with me or are you scared to say no?"

"I actually want to spend my life with you." It makes me sad even thinking about someone else getting to have Bart. He's supposed to be my companion.

Once again, Bart's smile grows as he looks at me. "Good, because I want to be your boyfriend."

"So, you're my boyfriend."

"So, I'm your boyfriend." The word sounds weird but nice.

"I still don't know what the difference between a boyfriend and a friend is though."

"We'll figure it out together, okay?" He says, slowly moving closer. "And we'll move slowly so you don't get scared again, and I'll start asking before I touch you, okay? Does that sound good?"

"Yes, it sounds very good. I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Bart goes to put his hands on my hips but freezes with them hovering over me. "Can I touch you?" I nod yes. "Do you actually want me to touch you or are you scared to tell me no right now?"

"I actually want you to touch me."

Once the words are out, Bart's hands are present on my hips, once again rubbing soft circles into me, over my clothes this time. "You don't need to be sorry. I scared you. I pushed too hard this morning. I should have talked to you instead of assuming you were okay with me touching you. I shouldn't have assumed I was your boyfriend. From now on we will talk about stuff more, okay? Maybe we can talk to Canary about doing couples therapy so we can work on making this work, ya?"

"Ya, I like that idea."

"I like that idea too." I have a boyfriend. Bart is my boyfriend. I get to keep Bart forever.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

#bart allen #impulse #bart allen oneshot #impulse oneshot #young justice #young justice oneshot #young justice x reader #bart allen x reader #impulse x reader

[batfam-fanfics]

Lipstick on the glass by kerosceene

1 Chapter - 7559 words

Here's the thing about having your brain full of information downloaded by an evil science organization that created you to serve a nefarious purpose, is that you get confused about whether it's okay to wear lipstick.

-

two timkon snapshots, before and after finding yourself

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #gender expression #bart allen #cassie sandsmark #young just us #fic rec #fanfiction recommendation #batfam fic rec #batfamily fic rec #oneshot

[ao3feed-timkon]

Swept Off My Feet

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/xV64PQ7

by NevernightUnderRainbows

From the first day he'd been adopted by Bruce Wayne, one thing had been made abundantly clear to him, by a variety of people, over and over again;

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne was destined to be the shortest member of his family.

Still, most days, this inequity was...tolerable.

But today was not one of those days.

Or, Tim had heard every possible short joke known to man, and yet, life and his boyfriends manage to find new ways to send him into a fit of rage.

Words: 868, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 6 of Stills From Another Life

Fandoms: Young Justice (Comics), Batman - All Media Types

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Tim Drake, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bart Allen, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Batfamily Members

Relationships: Bart Allen/Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bart Allen/Tim Drake, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bart Allen/Kon-El | Conner Kent

Additional Tags: timkonbart, OT3, Slice of Life, Oneshot, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Attempt at Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake is So Done, Tim Drake is short, like so tiny, Like he's Merriam-Webster's poster boy for tiny, Polyamory, Throuple, Short Tim Drake, idiot boyfriends, no braincells, Fluff

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/xV64PQ7

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #timkon

[ao3feed-westallen]

home is where the heart is

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/ctiw2Kz

by lcveiriskane

short stories that will contain just barry and iris oneshots and westallen family one shots.

Words: 697, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of West-Allen

Fandoms: The Flash (TV 2014)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Barry Allen, Iris West, Nora West-Allen, Bart West-Allen

Relationships: Barry Allen/Iris West, Barry Allen & Nora West-Allen, Barry Allen & Bart West-Allen, Iris West & Nora West-Allen, Iris West & Bart West-Allen

Additional Tags: West-Allen Family (The Flash TV 2014) Feels, best family on the show, Father-Daughter Relationship, because we all know Im a sucker for barry and nora, Mother-Son Relationship, Bart being a mommas boy, barry being a good dad, while also being a good husband, Barry Allen is a Little Shit, Iris West is everyone's favorite mother, Iris West Loves Barry Allen, Barry Allen Loves Iris West, Iris is everything plus more, shes a best girl, Shameless Smut, Barry Allen is a dirty talker, Barry Allen Is A Human Vibrator, cuz we all know barry and iris do it everywhere, thats westallen for you, Family Fluff, But also, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/ctiw2Kz

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #WestAllen #westallen

[ao3feed-birdflash]

#IFTTT #fanfic #dick grayson #wally west #dickwally #birdflash