English is not my first language so, sorry if you see mistakes in my writing.
Personally I'm visual when I read, like there's always images on my head, so almost all my povs have images so the visualization can be more easy.
My povs and one-shots, stories, imagines, character x reader... whatever you want to call it are for all ages but exceptions can be made, for that exceptions I will use a warning.
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Warnings: Heavy angst, character death, just lots of death talk in general
Part Two Here
A particularly bad attack on Earth leads to hundreds of casualties around the world. Many lives are lost…including that of beloved superheroes and their loves.
Bruce Wayne
He dies with you in his arms.
No one ever expected Batman, the Dark Knight renowned for escaping death, to ever take his last breath. It was impossible. Improbable. The Angel of Death themself struggled to collect.
And yet, the time came.
No one was worried at first. Batman, Bruce Wayne, always prevailed. He always had a plan A through Z, and a second set if those ones somehow failed. Nothing could surprise him whether it be ghosts, aliens, even Dracula himself. It was almost as if the universe itself bent at his whims.
It was Clark who found you and him.
He didn’t register it at first, didn’t even think about it. There were mass casualties from the devastating catastrophe. Many had not survived, a fact that he was personally forced to face as he listened to each and every civilian heartbeat cease to beat. It wasn’t until they began the city cleanup that he realized he failed to hear that of a familiar one.
He didn’t want to believe it at first. There was no way the man closest to him, the man whose intellect rivaled that of even the smartest villains, was just…gone. So, he went searching.
And that’s how he found you both.
It was clear that you had been the first to die. Body set in rigor mortis, blank eyes clouded over as you stared up at the sky. Bruce was behind you, desperately cradling your body to his chest as he lay slouched against a nearby building. He quickly deduced the situation, noticing the bloody blast on your chest. You had somehow, someway, gotten in the middle of battle and suffered for it. Bruce must have found you and in grief, didn’t care if he was found unarmed as he held you in your final moments. The similar wound on his own chest showed as much.
Batman’s own love and grief had been his undoing.
Dick Grayson
He took his last breath with his arms wrapped around your body, as if protecting you from the fatal blow that took your lives.
It was the man who he once called father who found you.
Once the battle came to an end, he desperately followed the tracker he installed in each and every one of his kids' suits. He had to, needed to, account for them all. It didn’t matter if Dick and Jason were grown, if Tim and Steph had the smarts that beat his own, it didn't matter if Cass and Damian could survive even have a nuclear blast if they wanted to. They were his kids.
And so were you. The person who brought forth a new light in Dick that he hadn’t seen in quite some time. He wasn’t the first Robin when he was with you, wasn’t Bludhaven's adored Nightwing…he was just Dick Grayson. Bruce Wayne’s precious son.
Which was why Bruce felt his heart drop when he neared the rubble pile of an oh so familiar building. Your’s and Dick’s, the shabby little apartment you both called home.
He should have known something was wrong when, through all the chaos and bloodshed, he didn’t catch even the barest glimpse of his son. The blue and black suit that he recalled you loved so much nowhere in sight. And now he knows why.
It seemed in the chaos you were unable to leave your apartment building. It was possible you were trapped, or maybe you got caught up attempting to help a neighbor escape before you because that was just the kind of person you were. Either way, you somehow didn’t make it out of the building in time.
And his son, oh his beloved son, always a lover at heart would not leave you in vain.
Bruce didn’t even want to think about whether or not in the end his son accepted fate's cruel hand. If he fought till the bitter end for your lives, or if he decided that death with you was better than life without. He knew his son and his love for you, and knew that in the end a life without you was one he couldn’t imagine his son bearing.
As Bruce neared the rubble and saw your bodies in the midst, strong arms tightly wrapped around you to bring you close to Dick’s unmoving chest, he could only thank that Death decided to take you together.
Jason Todd
He passed with his hand in yours, his fingers intertwined with yours. Arm stretched out as best it could in his final moments to get to you.
His partner in crime, Roy Harper, had been the one to find him. Not his family, but a fellow outcast. And one of the few to notice his slow disappearance in the battle for Earth.
Though the man decided to fight with his family: his brothers, sisters, and regrettably his father, that didn’t mean the rest of the Outlaws decided to just neglect him. No, just as they would family, they all kept tabs on one another throughout the battle. Which was what made them all slowly begin to panic as Red Hood sightings began to progressively turn to none during the war.
Jason wouldn’t be one to abandon a fight, especially as dire as this one, unless…
They didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t even want to consider that you somehow ended up in the crossfire. You, who just as they held Jason near and dear in their hearts they did you. The civilian who never left the man’s side even in the darkest of times.
His love, his life, the very air he breathes.The kind of love poets of old would weep at.
Once the battle was over they all decided to spread out to find their lost comrade. High and low they searched, through rubble and ruins, desperate to catch even a glimpse of the familiar red helmet he wore.
They didn’t have to search far. It was obvious where he would run to if he needed.
Just a few roads down from a nearby safe haven bunker you both lay. Cold, stiff, but together. It was as if in your final moments you both were still so hopeful you could hold each other just one more time. However, fate wasn’t so kind.
A blood trail behind Jason indicated that in his final moments, no matter how painful, he used every last breath to crawl to you and secure your hand in his.
Warnings: Heavy angst, character death, just lots of death talk in general
Part One Here
A particularly bad attack on Earth leads to hundreds of casualties around the world. Many lives are lost…including that of beloved superheroes and their loves.
Barry Allen
He never made it to you in time.
It was funny, almost, how the fastest man alive was unable to rescue his love. Unable to run to you, unable to get you to a clinic within seconds, unable to at least help stop the bleeding and promise you that you were going to make it.
No, instead he too died. His legs crushed and unable to heal in time before he was practically executed by the enemy. Found by his once joyful sidekick, Wally, who lost any and all hope for a happy ending when finding his mentor dead. Who knew that the speedster’s biggest strength would be his undoing.
In fact, he fully believed the older man to be alive and well by your side once the fight came to an end. There just wasn’t any other reason to believe otherwise. His mentor was one of the greatest men there was, of course he would have gotten to you in time.
Your blank eyes told him otherwise. There was no way to determine your cause of death. There was blood and dust all over you, head looking to the sky as if in your final moments you dared to try and pray for a saving grace. And just a few meters away from you lay Barry. So close yet so far.
It was painful, knowing just how desperate Barry was to get to you. The man loved like he breathed. It just came to him naturally. Loving you was the easiest thing in the world, and yet it still was not enough to save you.
He had tried all he could. He crawled and crawled, looking like a pathetic worm amidst rubble. Just trying all he could to get to his light, his soul, his reason for living.
And you? You take your final breaths, wondering where in the world your lover could possibly be, thinking that any second he would rescue you like he always promised he would.
You died believing otherwise.
Hal Jordan
It was him who killed you.
If someone were to put in harshly.
It was a grand show for all who were unfortunate to watch. Everyone was too locked in their own battle to do anything, yet still desperate for even a glance to make sure their dear friend was alright. Hal laid bloodied, injured, broken, and yet was still using the last of his strength to shield you from any and all possible blows.
No matter how many hits he took, how many shots and stabs, he would not falter. He would continue embracing you in that celestial green, ensuring that the one who carried his heart would live.
Yet, it was not enough.
Every man has his limit, and in the end Hal was only human.
In his final moments your eyes locked. His tired and weary, but so full of fear. Yours, teary eyed but full of concern for him and only him. Not for the Green Lantern, but for Hal Jordan. Your husband.
You banged on the shield around you, begging him to drop it and to just fight back goddammit. Never once concerned or scared for your own life, but for his. That’s why he loved you so much. You had so much affection and care for the people around you. One that rivaled your regard for your own safety. It’s also what he hated.
And that’s why in his final moments, as he felt his muscles weaken and his eyesight begin to fade, he hated himself. All these grand powers and yet he could do nothing further to save you as he took his final breaths.
The last thing he heard were your blood curdling screams.
Clark Kent
The second you died, he decided that he too would go. If only to continue being with you.
Superman, the symbol of hope, was nothing, utterly nothing, without his other half.
He knew it, and unfortunately so did the rest of the league.
It’s why once news of your death reached the team they were desperate to hopefully keep it out of sight, out of mind. If only until the battle came to a close. For the greater good.
Yet, what they didn’t know is that Clark memorized the sound of your heartbeat like no other. It’s what lulled him to sleep, what kept him fighting halfway across the world.
The sound was ingrained into his very being, so much so that he for a full minute deluded himself into believing he could still hear the sacred thump…thump…thump….
Something about it was off, though. It wasn’t as loud, it sometimes missed a beat, and eventually it faded away entirely. Until, while throwing punches in the sky as the sun finally began to set, it finally dawned on him just how quiet his mind truly was.
You were gone.
It was Bruce Wayne who connected the dots just as quickly. Saw from on the ground below how the man of steel froze in the sky, devastation weighing down on his shoulders, face transformed into that of such agony it almost hurt the Dark Knight himself. He knew and fought so hard to yell and scream at the man to just keep on fighting for the sake of the world.
But oh how could he, when you were in fact his very world.
The worst part was he didn’t even know how you came to pass. Were you scared? Were you in pain? Were you put down quickly or tortured to death? All the things he promised you during late nights of love in bed that he would never allow to happen to you, knowing just what kind of realm of reality you lived in. He failed his number one job in the entire universe and it was exactly what killed him.
He didn’t care that he saw a spear of Kryptonite heading straight towards his heart. In fact, amidst all the agony he felt, there was in fact relief.
Just as soon as he was separated from you, he would be just as quickly reunited.
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Death can't keep us apart (f!reader x Bruce Wayne - part II)
Hi everyone, this is the second and last part of this fic about reader dying / the Batfamily darkly reacting to it.
As a reminder, the first part ends on Damian telling Bruce that his grandfather might be able to bring reader back from the grave.
Hope you'll enjoy <3
Warnings: no proof reading, ANGST and more ANGST, no happy ending, despair, sadness, insanity, dark!Batfamily
Everything was going to be alright.
Even if everyone knew it was a terrible idea.
And yet no one could care any less.
Bruce would have eagerly sold his soul to the devil if it meant getting you back. He knew the pain of your absence would never get away and he wasn’t too certain how long he would be able to survive it. No matter if Gotham needed him and his children. His duty was long forgotten; even a soldier needs happiness to keep going, even bats need the sun to not get lost.
Bruce found Ra's Al Ghul with crazed determination. He let go of his weapons and toys, to show his opponent that he actually wasn’t here to fight. Ra’s had no idea what was going on, Talia was afraid to understand when Bruce knelt in front of the old man.
“I’ll do anything you want, but bring my wife back. Damian said you could and I believe you know how to.” Batman pleaded
“Anything?” Ra’s asked, knowing how love could be the most efficient way to destroy someone
“Anything”
Bruce agreed to become his heir and the new Head of the Demon. He agreed to embrace a very dark part of himself. He agreed to let the League of Assassin roam inside his manor. But it didn’t matter. Even his children agreed with everything. The price was high but it was the only option.
Talia watched in silence and with sadness. She couldn’t even be happy for her father. She knew that Bruce was simply losing himself. She hoped the price wasn’t too high, she hoped you were going to come back alright and she hoped that Bruce would find a way back to himself. She noticed how Damian was also eager to get you back home. She was grateful you took care of her boy so tenderly. But she hated you for being such a weakness.
A pathetic weakness.
The most powerful weakness.
She even made her son promise that once you would be back, he would protect you so nothing could ever happen to you again. She was aware that otherwise the people who loved you would burn the whole world down and it wouldn’t be a happy ending for anyone. Not even the Justice League would be able to do anything about it, she was certain of it.
Love consumed everything, like a burning sun.
And their love for you was a crying volcano.
When you woke up, you were in your bed. It was strange, because you were pretty certain that last time you were awake, you were on a very uncomfortable chair. You had a massive headache and your whole body was aching too. You were completely disoriented, half wondering what you were doing here. You tried to remember what happened, but the headache grew even stronger. You took your skull in both your hands, whining in pain. You barely felt bigger hands gently stroking your hair. You didn’t hear the soft whisperers of reassuring words either, until you slowly calmed down.
When you relaxed again as the pain subsided a little, you looked up and saw Bruce watching over you.
He looked so pale, so exhausted. He searched for your eyes with such raw despair; it worried you. You reached for his face and he instantly leaned into your touch. Your warmth was already a balm to his suffering. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. He wasn’t fully certain all of you were back, but he had lost enough of his sanity to be happy to just have your body alive again, no matter how much he would also want your mind, of course.
“How are you feeling, my love?” he whispered, testing the waters, tears in the eyes
“I… What happened, Bruce? Riddler… I…” you babbled, trying to gather your thought but your head started to pound again
“Shh, my beloved. It’s alright, everything is alright now” he shushed you as he brought you closer to him “You’re safe and loved. Nothing bad will ever happen to you again. I promise you.” he continued
“My head hurt.” you whispered
“I know. You can't take a med for it right away, but later on, after some food, you’ll be able to grab one. You’ll feel better soon.” he replied
“Have I been out for a while?” you asked because as you leaned against your husband’s form, you felt he had lost quite some weight and it couldn’t have happened just in a few hours.
“Nine months” Bruce finally replied and you looked up at him in pure shock
“Wait, what? But how is that even possible? Why am I not at the hospital then? Oh my God, Bruce, what happened to me?” you cried out
Bruce shushed you again and tried to appease you by cuddling you.
“You don’t have to worry about anything. You’re back, you’re awake and that's all that matters, trust me” he gave you a small smile and you bite your tongue.
“Are you okay, Bruce?” you frowned
“Yes, yes I am now” the man hummed as he leaned his forehead against yours.
He was relaxing for the first time in so many months. The pain finally left his body and mind. You were back home. You were safe. Your mind seemed intact, as well as your body. From now on, he could work with anything.
A soft knock at the door startled you. Alfred slightly opened the door. The man seemed as exhausted as Bruce. You noticed the appeasement and the relief washing over him as he saw you curiously peering at him from Bruce’s side.
“I’m sorry to interrupt the two of you, but food is ready” he informed you
You realised you were actually starving, as if you hadn’t eaten in… oh well yes, you didn’t eat in months indeed. You started to get up and Bruce carefully helped you. Your bones cracked a little as you stretched before starting to walk. You were feeling a little bit weak and still a little bit lost, so you let Bruce support you and guide you through the manor.
You knew something was awfully off when all the children got up as you entered the room. They came to you, helping you to sit down, all trying to touch you and kiss your cheeks and hands. They all wanted a seat next to you, they were all so agitated. You didn’t understand their unshed tears, their relief, their worried tenderness. You also noticed some people standing in the living room, like perfect little soldiers. You frowned and Bruce shushed you again.
“Don’t worry about anything, darling” he told you
You nodded, not understanding anything anyway.
You were happy to eat Alfred’s food and you relaxed a little as you focused on the delicious taste flooding into your mouth. Everyone around you started to eat once you did. You were surprised when you noticed how silent your family was. They all seemed to have their whole attention on you. Like your husband, they didn’t seem to be doing so well either.
“Maybe we could get a walk in town today, you all seemed like you could get some fresh air” you offered
“Look, my darling, a lot of things have changed in your… absence. And from now on, I’m afraid you won’t be able to leave the Manor.” Bruce softly informed you
“What?” you asked as you stopped eating
“It’s okay, Ma, keep eating” Jason instantly pleaded
“Yes it’s just for safety measures” Dick nodded
“We just need to keep an eye on you” Tim added
“We have been very worried about you but now you’re back” Stephanie tried to smile
“And you won’t leave us again” Damian muttered under his breath
“And you don’t need to worry about anything, we’ve got it” Duke tried to reassure you
“Nothing bad will ever happen again” Cass promised
It hit you.
It hit you so hard.
Your head was pounding because you got shot. You were… You were dead.
You were dead. You were dead. You were dead.
Oh my god you were dead.
But not anymore.
You felt sick. Your body felt wrong. Your mind was screaming.
The food tasted like iron.
You tried to remain calm, but you were going insane.
One of the soldiers came into view and walked to Bruce.
“Head of the Demon” he greeted Bruce.
You didn’t hear the rest of the words. Your head was spinning. You suddenly got up and everyone stopped eating or listening to what the member of the League of Assassins was telling Bruce.
“I need a shower” you said and rushed away before anyone could offer their help or stop you.
You locked yourself up in the bathroom, and turned on the water. You undressed and started to inspect your body. You got flashes from what happened with Riddler.
You remembered everything as you washed your body with a brush until your skin was raw. Once you were done, you went out of the shower and sat down on the ground before starting to cry. You couldn’t believe your family brought you back from the dead. How could they not understand how wrong it was?
You jumped when Bruce knocked at the door.
“My love, can you open the door please? You’ve been in there for a very long time” your husband pleaded with you, you could hear the worry lacing his voice.
You mechanically stood up and opened the door.
You didn’t care about your nakedness. Bruce cupped your face and frowned in pure sadness as the tears cascading down your face. He also disapproved of how harsh you had been with your body.
“Allow me to put some cream on your skin” he asked and you shrugged “Please” he whispered and you nodded.
He guided you to the bed and sat you down, before leaving for the bathroom and coming back with the expensive hydrating cream you used to put on your skin after every shower. He knelt down in front of you and started to coat your legs. He massaged your body, hoping you would relax under his touch.
“You shouldn’t have brought me back,” you whispered.
He froze for an instant before resuming his actions.
“Trust me, we didn’t have any other choice” Bruce gloomy replied “Now you’re back, I can finally work again, I can finally eat and rest. The children too. We are finally going to be alright again. The pain… The pain is gone.” he mumbled
“Bruce…” you choked on your tears
“We’ll keep you safe here. We’ll take care of you. We’ll do so much better. We’ll do everything you want. We just want you to be happy and among us. We’ll make sure to distract you from being locked up inside the manor. I’m sure you could rethink the decoration to keep you busy for a while. You'll read books and watch movies, you'll play video games. You'll do anything you want as long as you stay with us, at home. And at night, you can go in the park of the property” Bruce said, like the man who thought about everything “We just need you here, that’s all we’re asking”
“Ra's Al Ghul…” you started
“Yes. But it was worth it. It’s okay, really. Everything is alright” Bruce cut you
“You… Death shouldn’t be cheated like that”
“Death shouldn’t have taken you away from us, we fixed things like we always did.”
Happiness is sometimes dark, just like love.
That night Bruce finally fell asleep, with you tightly snuggled up in an embrace you couldn't break free from.
Your family proved to be even stronger than Death.
Even if it meant you now wanted to die and kill them all, even if you were losing your sanity, even if the Batfamily was getting so dangerous no one knew how to deal with them anymore.
But it was alright, because you were forever back home.
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Leaning against the window, [Y/N] whispered softly to herself.
“I love you, Superman.”
“I love you, Clark Kent.”
“I love you, Kal-El... I miss you.”
The words lingered in the quiet like a secret carried on the wind.
And then—
a shift in the air. A hush, followed by a gust of warmth and color.
Red and blue blurred into focus as he landed just beyond the balcony, the faint sound of his boots touching down lost in the thrum of her heartbeat.
She smiled, a little breathless.
“You took a bit longer than usual tonight.”
He stood there, wind catching the hem of his cape, his eyes soft and almost unsure as they searched her face.
“I was listening,” he said, voice low—vulnerable. “You whisper like that, and it’s hard not to drop everything. And..”
Her heart clenched. The man the world called indestructible looked at her like she was the only thing that could shatter him.
“…Don’t say it like that,” he added with a sheepish smile. “If you do, I swear my heart might actually explode.”
The tips of his ears turned red. Kal-El, hero of a thousand rescues, blushing at a single sentence.
It was so utterly human, so heartbreakingly tender, that [Y/N] felt herself drawn in like gravity.
She stepped closer, heart pounding like thunder trapped in her chest. Her fingers brushed the edge of his suit—warm, steady, real.
And then, without a word, she rose on her toes to could see him. With her heart overflowing, she reached up and kissed him—softly, sweetly, and with everything she felt.
It all started with a casual conversation… and a strange sense of familiarity. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary—at least, that’s what she thought. But each new encounter with these peculiar people only raised more questions.
Each meeting reveals a new clue, and what began as simple coincidence turns into a web of secrets, double lives, and hidden truths. Because when fate brings you face to face with heroes… without their masks, everything can change.
You were very comfortably lounging in your bed when a gust of wind swept through the room and suddenly, Barry was standing at the foot of your bed.
"Get up-" He said, a confident cocky smirk on his face. "And get dressed."
"What? Why?" You laughed, sitting up, "It's almost midnight-"
"No excuses! Come on, come on! Up, up, up!!" He clapped loudly, making you get out of bed.
"Barry!!" You squeaked, laughing and getting up. "I was going to go to bed!"
"Too bad, babe. We're going out." He leaned against the doorframe as you went through your clothes and then to the bathroom.
"At midnight?" You asked pointedly.
"Doesn't matter." He waved his hands, watching you get ready. After a few beats of silence, he spoke again. "So I've got the perfect plan for today."
"Yeah? What is it?" You roll your eyes, putting on lipstick and blush. There was no way in hell you were going to do a full face at this hour.
"Step one-" He watched you get ready and as soon as you put down the last thing, he scooped you up in his arms in a bridal carry. "Sweep you off your feet. Literally."
"Barry!" You laughed, holding onto him.
"Step two-" He grinned, mischief evident in his eyes, "Hold on tight-"
"Wha-" The air shifted around you tremendously as he held you tightly onto him.
The scene changed, the world blurring together, sounds morphing and he suddenly sat you down in a beautiful large flower field.
"What? Where-" You look around, the dark valley slowly lighting up with the rising sun.
"Happy Valentine's-" He whispered, wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressing against your back.
You watched the sun rise, breathless at the view of the tulip fields.
"My god, Barry..." You melted against him.
"There's still step three left." He chuckled, his breath ghosting at your neck.
"What's that?" You smiled, turning slightly to look at him.
"To kiss the most beautiful woman I know." He mused, cupping your face to kiss you with absolute love and passion as the sunlight spread across the plain.
You’re sick. Feverish. Miserable.
Barry Allen is the most attentive boyfriend in existence.
barry allen x reader
You knew you were sick when Barry stopped teasing you.
No smug remarks. No playful eyebrows. Just soft eyes and the gentlest hands imaginable tucking you into bed like you might dissolve if he moved too fast.
Which was ironic, really.
Because Barry Allen always moved fast.
But not with you.
Not when you were like this—pale, weak, sweating through your pajamas and shivering under three blankets. Not when you could barely lift your head without groaning.
Not when he was scared.
He didn’t say it, of course.
He never did. Not the way most people would.
But you’d been together long enough to know what fear looked like on Barry Allen.
It wasn’t panic. It was quiet.
It was the way he slowed his steps when he walked into your bedroom. The way he held your tea like it was something fragile. The way he’d pressed a hand to your forehead and murmured, “You’re burning up,” and then didn’t let go for five whole minutes.
The way he never left your side without promising, “I’ll be right back.”
Like you’d slip away while he wasn’t looking.
You’re half-asleep when he comes back this time—arms full, hair windblown, still dressed in sweats and a hoodie that definitely wasn’t his when you fell asleep (Cisco’s? Maybe? You’re too feverish to care).
He sets a tray down on your nightstand, all soft clinks and quiet care. You blink up at him, dazed.
“Soup,” he says gently. “Tea. Ginger chews. Two kinds of cough drops. And—” he leans closer, grinning, “a new thermometer. Because I know the old one lies to me.”
You huff a tired laugh. “You bought a new thermometer?”
He shrugs, clearly unrepentant. “I may have stolen it from STAR Labs.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m in love,” he replies, kneeling beside the bed. “It’s a terminal condition.”
You roll your eyes, but your heart squeezes.
Barry reaches up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. You lean into his touch instinctively.
“How’s the fever?”
“Still awful.”
He hums, reading your face. “Headache?”
You nod.
“Sore throat?”
You nod again.
He kisses your forehead softly, then mumbles, “Don’t move.”
Before you can ask why, he’s gone.
Gone-gone. Speedster blur gone.
You blink. He’s back three seconds later holding—
“A cool rag,” he says proudly, tucking it behind your neck like he’s just performed a miracle. “Dampened to exactly 74°F.”
You squint at him.
“I used my watch,” he explains.
You sigh. “You’re gonna set the bar so high for other men it’s gonna mess with the timeline.”
He smirks. “Good. Let them fear me.”
You open your mouth to tease him again but dissolve into a coughing fit. It racks through your chest, makes your eyes water. Barry’s there instantly, hand rubbing slow, soothing circles between your shoulder blades, whispering the whole time:
“I’ve got you. Breathe. I’ve got you.”
And when you finally go still, exhausted and slumped against him, he whispers something even softer.
“I hate seeing you like this.”
You rest your cheek against his collarbone. “I hate feeling like this.”
“I know.”
His arms stay wrapped around you as you drift again, body warm but safe, heart fluttering slow under the press of his.
Barry sits behind you in bed, legs on either side of yours, your blanket-swaddled body resting against his chest like a human marshmallow. You’re tired, overheated, and grumpy, but he’s determined to get you to eat something before you pass out again.
So now? He’s got a spoon in one hand and your hair tucked behind your ear with the other.
“C’mon,” he coaxes gently, bringing the spoon to your lips. “Just one more bite.”
You groan. “No more. I’m a sick little sack of soup now. I’m done.”
“You’ve had, like, six spoonfuls.”
“Which is, like, five more than I wanted.”
He chuckles softly, pressing his nose into your hair. “You’re dramatic.”
“Says the man who sped across town for three brands of cough drops.”
He shrugs. “Your suffering makes me reckless.”
You laugh—quietly. It hurts your throat. But it’s real.
Once he’s finally convinced you to sip some tea, he sets everything aside and settles in again. His arms wrap around you automatically, blanket and all, his hands rubbing lazy circles over your ribs through the fabric.
“Feel a little better?” he asks.
You nod against his shoulder. “Warm. Full. Safe.”
He presses a kiss to the side of your head.
“That’s kinda my whole brand.”
You don’t mean to fall asleep.
You just sort of drift.
Your head tucked under his chin. His hands never leaving you. The sound of his heartbeat steady in your ear, rhythmic and grounding.
And in that hazy, half-conscious space between dreaming and waking, you murmur:
“I think I wanna marry you.”
It’s soft. So soft you almost don’t hear it yourself.
But Barry goes still.
You’re too far gone to notice—eyes closed, breath even, fever making the world heavy and slow.
But he hears it.
He feels it.
And god, he’s never been so in love with anything in his life.
He holds you a little tighter. Presses a kiss to your temple. And whispers, almost inaudibly:
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