⋆ ˚｡⋆ŕ¨ŕ§Ëš First Kiss Ëšŕ¨ŕ§â‹†ď˝ˇËš ⋆
Pairing: Wally West x f!reader
Word Count: 1.1K
Warnings/Tags: Wholesome, fluff, new relationship :)
Author note: Just some cute fluff for wally! I plan to post a lot more of these short oneshots for all the dc boys I have on my masterlist <3
Please do not copy or translate any of my works. Thank you!
The thing about dating Wally West, you quickly realized, was that time worked differently around him.
Not in the obvious, speedster-way that meant he could zip from one side of the county to the other while you were still trying to tie your shoelaces. That was just... physics- or magic- or whatever it was that made him him.
No, the difference in time came from the way he made you laugh so hard hours passed without you realizing it. Or the way he filled silence with half-baked jokes, or wide-eyed stories about his latest mission with the Titans, so much that the quiet between words felt almost intimate. When you were with him, the world just... accelerated and slowed down in a rhythm only the two of you seemed to share.
The two of you had been "together" officially for just under a month. Which meant everyone around you- Dick, Donna, even Batman, though God help you both if he ever commented on it- treated your budding relationship with the amused patience of people who'd seen it coming long before you had.
It had been easy to say yes to Wally. He was warm, he was bright, he was Wally. But what wasn't so easy was figuring out what came next.
Which is why you currently found yourself pacing the rooftop of Titans Tower, the night breeze pulling at your jacket, trying to steady your nerves. Because despite being 'official,' you hadn't kissed him yet. Not properly.
There had been the near-kiss during movie night when his face had been right there in the glow of the screen, and you chickened out because Gar and Vic had barged in with popcorn. There had been the one almost-kiss after a training session when he leaned in so close you thought it was going to happen- but he sneezed, and the moment shattered into laughter.
And maybe that was the problem. Being with Wally was easy, Kissing him? That felt like it would change something. Something big.
"Okay, breathe," you muttered to yourself, blowing into your hands to fight off the chill. "It's just a kiss. People do this all the time."
"Talking to yourself again?"
You jumped so hard you nearly tripped over your own feet.
And there he was- red hair tousled by the wind, green eyes lit up with mischief, a grin tugging at his lips. He wore that battered old hoodie you liked, the one with a faded Keystone City baseball logo on the front. And of course, he had that speedster smugness, like he'd been standing there for ages and you were the one late to the party.
"Wally?" you scolded, pressing a hand to your chest. "Don't do that!"
"What, show up?" he teased, strolling closer with that casual confidence that somehow didn't look rehearsed on him. "Or catch you having a full conversation with... yourself?"
"I wasn't-" you stopped, narrowing your eyes. "Okay, maybe I was. But that doesn't mean you get to make fun of me."
"Who said I'm making fun? I think it's adorable," he said smoothly, leaning on the railing beside you. His arm brushed yours, warm even through your jacket.
You tried to play it cool. You really did. "You always sneak up on people like that?"
"Only on the people I like." His tone softened just enough to make your stomach flip.
There it was. The thing he did- the disarming honesty beneath all the bravado. You glanced at him, but he wasn't smirking this time. He was just looking at you, like he couldn't quite believe you were there.
Your heart thumped. Loud. Too loud.
"So," he started after a beat, his voice lighter again. "Why are you hiding out here? Don't tell me you're avoiding another one of Vic's karaoke nights."
You laughed, grateful for the deflection. "No. Just needed some air."
"Hmm." He studied you, head tilted. Then, before you could blink, he darted away- literally- and returned in less than a second holding two mugs of hot chocolate, steam curling from the tops.
You blinked. "Did you just-"
"Zoom down to the kitchen?" He smirked, handing you a mug. "Yeah. Perks of dating the fastest man alive."
"You're impossible," you said, but you smiled as you wrapped your hands around the cup.
"And yet you keep me around." He bumped your shoulder playfully.
The night settled around you, quieter this time. Just the two of you, the city lights in the distance, the stars overhead. Wally sipped his hot chocolate like it was the most important task in the world, and you felt the weight of unsaid words pressing against your tongue.
You wanted to kiss him. God, you wanted to kiss him.
But how? Do you just... lean in? Do you wait for him? What if you missed and ended up bumping noses? What if-
"You're staring," he said suddenly, a teasing lilt to his voice.
Your face heated. "I am not."
"You are." He turned to look at you fully, green eyes sharp and soft all at once. "Which, you know, I'm not complaining about. I like it when you stare."
"Wally..." you warned, though your voice was more breathless than stern.
He leaned closer, close enough that you could count the freckles across his cheeks, close enough that your heart felt like it might sprint right out of your chest to try and keep up with him.
"You know," he murmured, "I've been trying to find the right moment."
Your breath caught. "The right moment?"
He smiled, softer this time. "Yeah. To do this."
And then- finally- he kissed you.
It wasn't flashy. It wasn't rushed. For all his speed, Wally kissed you slow. His lips brushed yours like he had all the time in the world, like he wanted to savor every second.
Your hand found its way to his hoodie, clutching the fabric as you melted into him. His free hand- because of course he hadn't let go of his hot chocolate- rested gently against your waist, grounding you.
When you finally pulled back, the world felt a little different. Brighter, Louder. Like every atom in your body had been rewired.
Wally grinned, his forehead resting against yours. "Worth the wait."
You laughed, a little breathless. "Yeah. Definitely worth the wait."
He kissed you again, quick and sweet this time, before pulling back with that trademark smirk. "So... when do I get to brag to the others that I finally kissed my girlfriend?"
You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. "Let's keep it to ourselves. Just for tonight."
"Deal," he said, and you knew he'd keep it- because for once, Wally West wasn't in any rush.
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summary: in which y/n snaps at barry for never valuing her
warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of suicide
genre: angst
word count: 1k
author's note: i saw an edit of barry allen on tiktok and i was reminded of how big of a crush i had on that man. there is also such a content shortage of him??? so i had to take matters into my own hands
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"you're going to feel a slight sting." y/n said softly, pressing a cotton pad drowned in rubbing alcohol onto his chest.
the cut wasn't too terrible. it was medium-sized, bleeding. but it wasn't terrible. once again, barry had a close call on the field. he was thrown, beaten, and injured. and once again, y/n was the one patching him up. she was comforting him, cleaning up his wounds, and monitoring his vitals.
slow jazz music filled the silent room. barry hissed at the sensation of the cotton pad on his chest. she looked up to make sure he was alright. he gave her a slight nod.
y/n had been with him through thick and thin. from the moment he became the flash to the moments where he questioned who he was, she had been there for it all. every cut, scrape, and tear. of course she'd fallen in love with him, who wouldn't have?
"going to sting again." she warned, moving the cotton pad up.
once she had finished up cleaning up his wound, she began to patch it with gauze. she watches as he gazes into the distance, clearly concentrated on something else. as she applied a little bit of pressure on the area, he cursed under his breath.
"fuck...iris." he muttered.
y/n paused for a moment, feeling her fingers almost drop the roll of gauze in her hand. her heart fell to her stomach and she could feel her lash line getting wet.
"what's wrong? are you okay?" barry asked, as she suddenly was brought back to the scene in front of her.
"yeah, i'm fine." she smiled.
"what was that face you made?"
"what face?"
"the one you made a second ago."
out of all of the things he could have picked up on, he picked up on her reaction.
"nothing, just remembered how nasty that cut of yours was." she half-heartedly chuckled.
"i thought you said it was alright." he corrected. "i know you've seen worse. you've never been startled by any of that other stuff."
"what answer do you want from me?" she asked.
"the truth."
she chuckled. if she hadn't laughed, she would've cried. she quickly finished applying the gauze and checking his vitals.
"good to go." she said in a tone that was more flat than her usual soft, upbeat voice.
why was she even upset? they weren't anything. they had never been anything. they could've, but they weren't.
"you still didn't tell me."
"you don't need to know."
of course she was upset. for all the years she'd spent fixing him after his near-death missions, the least he could do is mutter her name instead of iris'. it was just a cruel, cold reminder that no matter what, barry loved iris. he never stopped, and he never will.
"y/n." he said softly.
her back was still towards the speedster as she cleaned up various tools and sterilized them. she turned around to put the tools away and she was startled by barry. he was right in front of her, barely inches apart.
"excuse me?" she said awkwardly, trying to go around him.
he wouldn't let her, dashing in front of her the minute her foot moved. she didn't have the capacity to deal with his antics today. she was hurt, she was tired, and she was fighting a breakdown.
"tell me." he demanded, not cruelly, but kindly. "please."
out of frustration, y/n placed her tools back on the tray.
"you've had plenty of time to figure it out and if you haven't, i don't know what to tell you."
barry was taken aback by her sudden hostility. y/n was the most calm and collected person in the lab. to hear even a hint of frustration in her voice was a cause of concern.
"figure what out?" he asked, concern filling his eyes.
"seriously, barry? you'd think after all the years i spent catering to you after you decided you wanted to have a showdown with death, you'd have the basic decency to know who was making sure you could breathe properly the next day." she rambled angrily.
"y/n, we're out of doritos-" cisco said entering the room, but he quickly paused sensing the tension in the air.
"i might as well be the fucking flash with how much time i spend trying to save you from your own twisted fate."
she was sick of him and his stupid games. one day, he wanted her. one day, he would gaze longingly into her eyes as they spent hours in the lab. the next day, he wanted iris. the next day, they were holding hands and hugging for a little too long.
the realization hit barry like a ton of bricks. y/n liked him. and he, he had muttered iris' name while she dressed him.
she grabbed the tray and shoved past him, placing them angrily in drawers in the infirmary.
"i'm the one who monitors your vitals after every mission. i'm the one who waits by your bedside while you're passed out. i'm the one who makes sure you're not dying, and you can't even remember my fucking name." she said aggressively.
"and while you go out on your suicide runs, and i advise you not to do something because it's incredibly dangerous, and what do you decide to do? you decide to listen to the journalist over the doctor." she spilled. "because for some cruel reason, my opinion, my service, my work, mean nothing to you! i mean nothing to you!"
she stormed out of the room.
cisco stood in silence for a moment, wondering what in the multiverse could have made y/n mad.
she quickly paced down the hallway towards the exit. she was so upset. she was mad at herself for liking barry and thinking she even mattered to him in the first place. she was mad at him for leading her on. she was mad at him for completely disregarding her.
her emotions were overwhelming. and for once, she truly understood what it was like to be a patient.
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author's note: pt 2? you guys can decided what you want here! a sweet ending, an angsty/heartbreaking ending, or smut (never written, but i'll try). let me know in the comments!
Original Imagine: hi! I love your writing! it’s absolutely amazing! I was wondering if I could have a one shot request where the reader gets critically injured bc Barry wasn’t fast enough to save her. super angsty and sad? thank you! @zbvbble (Sorry it took so long Sweetie! hope you enjoy, cuz it almost killed me!)
Reader Gender: Female
Word Count: 2,000
Warnings: ANGST. SO MUCH ANGST. UH. OH MY GOD. I’M SO SORRY.
Author: Contrygal7
                           * * * * *
If I didn’t believe in you.
The words cut deep into your head, the first thought of the day and recalling fights hurt. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard those words, though. Of course the first time wasn’t nearly as depressing.
No.
The first time it was warm. A fuzzy kinda warm that slowly seeps its way into your bones almost as if its igniting your entire body in a tantalizingly slow burn. The early morning sunshine, the whole world cascaded in a pink tint, as it fell lazily over the small bedroom in your even smaller studio apartment that you currently shared with your full time boyfriend part time superhero, Barry Allen.
The whole day seemed to reflect your mood, everything a stupid, can’t possibly be real kinda happy. Then you heard it, you’d heard it before of course, but singing in the shower was one thing… This was something different all together.
♪ If I didn’t believe in you♪
♪We’d never have gotten this far. ♪
♪If I didn’t believe in you♪
♪And all of the ten thousand women you are. ♪
He was actually singing. Like he sounded like he knew what the hell he was doing, now your boyfriend was many things. Goofy. Cute. Adorable. A super dork. Charismatic as hell when he wanted to be. But a singer? It just didn’t seem like it was actually him.
… Until he accidentally dropped this solid one liner into the air in front of him.
“Maybe I should just ask her… Nah. No. It’s too soon. Yeah. It’s wayyyyyyy to soon. But is it? Seven months? Maybe. I mean, ugh. I don’t know. I mean I know it’s what I want. But is it what she wants?”
Elevated heart rate, which Barry can hear, or sense or whatever the fuck he does. He turns around faster than your eyes can see, but living with a speedster you we’re used to it.
His deep blue eyes seemed to mirror your own terror as the two of you stood in the bright sunny kitchen, the tension palpable. You could feel his anxiety from across the small room as he too loudly asked “Coffee? You need coffee. I need coffee. I think we both need coffee. I’ll…”
Barry was gone and back in seconds two coffee cups from CC Jitters. You smile sweetly at his terror filled face as a single hand cups his cheek “Thank you sweetheart. Did you have something you wanted to ask me?”
His eyes screamed yes, but somehow he kept his dorkiness to a minimum as he, as slowly as a speedster can, dropped down on one knee. His big puppy dog eyes are what sealed the deal, he opened the small black velvet box in his hands. You looked down, catching glimpse of the shiny red bone shaped dog tag nestled inside.
BUT back to present day … Barry had left this morning with out a single noise.
You woke to a dark room and cold sheets. Glancing quickly at the alarm the 5:13 there glared at you with bright green neon. The world around you seemed to darken, you didn’t like fighting with Barry but sometimes he was just so stubborn.
The fight seemed to cycle and cycle thought your head. You overthought everything said and remembered everything. It was torture, sitting alone in a bed meant for two. Cold and alone. A single tear fell from your cheek as the words said came into razor focus:
“WEll, I’m sorry Barry! I’m sorry I can’t be everything that you want me to be! I’m sorry I’m not a doctor like Caitlin, or a superstar reporter like Iris! Shit Barry.“
"Who said anything about Caitlin or Iris?”
“And you’re never home! You’re always with everyone else but me. You leave me for days, sometimes weeks at a time with no explanation.”
“I have responsibilities (Y/N)! I can’t be here every time you have a feeling!”
“Like you’d know anything about me feelings, Barry. You’re never home. You’re always gallivanting around the city, fighting bad guys and ignoring ME!”
“I do NOT ignore you (Y/N).”
“Well you certainly don’t pay attention.“
"And when am I suppose to do that (Y/N)? The three hours I get to sleep at night? Or maybe you’d like the thirty minutes before hand when I eat before I pass out. Oh! Or maybe you’d like the eight hours when I’M AT WORK EVERYDAY.”
“OR you could come home before the goddamn crack of dawn. Or when you do come home, you always find some kind of excuse to leave yet again!“
The click of paws on the floor snapped you from your memory so you figured Flash, the lovable dalmatian that you and Barry adopted together, needed to go outside.
Without hesitation you stumbled your way through the dark gathering Flash’s leash and your shoes before hustling him outside.
The air was cold and wet. The rain fell around you, chilling you to the bone. You didn’t see anything until it was too late. The sweet smell filled your nostrils and the last thing you remember is the cool sensation against your face as you feel into the darkness.
                      * Barry’s P.O.V *
I should have went back this morning. I should have went home and crawled into bed, held her close and never left. My neck is sore from sleeping on the couch at the lab, my body aches from lack of sleep, and my head is spinning in regrets.
I should just go home now. Call the captain, tell him I need a personal day. Pick up some flowers and some pizza from that place in Gotham she loves so much. Meet her back at the apartment and lay in bed all day.
Hell, she’s never going to say yes to marrying me if I keep treating her like this. My hand instantly goes to cup the diamond ring in my coat pocket. I shake my head as I realize that I’d been carrying it around since the second month we’d started dating.
She is my everything. I have to make this up to her.
I take out my phone and begin to execute my brilliant plan, until my phone lights up and Cisco’s name pops up. Damn it.
”Cisco, whatever it is let Wally handle it. I can–“
"Barry. It’s (Y/N).”
I was in Star Labs before the call ended.
“What’s happening Cisco?”
“The Meta-finder got something. It’s him Barry. And he’s got (Y/N).”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. Neighbors place her walking Flash at 5, and he just popped up on my radar. We have no account of his whereabouts for in between.”
“That’s 3 hours Cisco.”
“Yeah, man. It’s bad. Want me to call Oliver?”
“No.”
I didn’t finish my sentence. I left her alone. Scared. In the middle of a fight. And now I may never get to see her smile again. I suited up and headed face first into a hurricane. Â
                         * * * * *
You woke with a throbbing in the back of your head. Your stomach growled causing you to slump forward, you realized your hands were bound behind you. You shuffled forward trying to regain some kind of bearing, and that’s when you heard him.
“Comfy?”
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Oh I think we both know the answer to that question.”
“Well your not going to get it. He’s not coming.”
“Oh but he is.”
“Oh, but he’s not. Asshole.”
“Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?”
You tilted away from him, hoping to terminate any and all conversation which worked. For a whole half a second.
“It doesn’t matter anyway. He won’t get here in time.”
“I’m not taking the bait, asshole.”
“What is it with you and that word?”
“OH I’m sorry. Douche bag. There’s another word for ya.”
“What does Mr. Allen see in you anyway?”
Your eyes widened and you were thankful you’d turned your body away. How in the hell did he know? Your head began to throb again and you cried out.
The last thing you remember is Barry’s face as the darkness slowly took over. You stumbled over the words as they left your mouth. You didn’t know if he could hear them or not, but they needed to be said.
“I believe in you, Barry Allen.”
Your eyes closed slowly and your breathing soon followed. Everything blurred together. Then black.
                    * Barry’s P.O.V *
I saw the light leave her eyes and I cried out. I don’t remember much after that. Caitlin says it could have been that my body was moving faster than my brain could keep up with. Wells says it could have been too traumatic and I’ve blocked it out. I don’t know. I don’t really care.
All I know is she’s in a hospital bed, on life support and I’m still breathing. I haven’t figured out the how or the why yet.
Another tear falls down my face. It seems like that’s all I do now. Cry.
I feel nothing, I feel empty. I don’t eat. I don’t sleep. I just sit here and stare down at the love of my life. And pray that she will wake up.
Her last words bring a sharp pain to my chest.
I believe in you, Barry Allen.
Why? Her last words, she had to have known they were going to be, yet… She didn’t cry out for help. She didn’t try and plead for her life. She didn’t scream at the top of her lungs…
She told me exactly what I needed to hear. A single phrase and I felt I could take on the world. A conclusion of words that made me feel invisible. A solid string of syllables that connected the two of us in a way I didn’t even realize she was capable of.
A single memory came into mind. One with white curtains and yellow sunshine. Dirty dishes and happy times.
♪ If I didn’t believe in you. ♪
♪ We’d never have gotten this far. ♪
I took her hand into my own, feeling the warmth and smiling down at her.
♪ If I didn’t believe in you. ♪
♪ And all of the ten thousand women you are. ♪
I laughed slightly remembering how she hated when I sang that part to her. Part of me hoped it would piss her off enough she’d wake up.
♪ If I didn’t think you could do ♪
♪ Anything you ever wanted to ♪
♪ If I wasn’t certain that you’d come through somehow ♪
♪ The fact of the matter is, (Y/N). ♪
♪ I wouldn’t be sitting here now. ♪
She never once moved. I watched as the machine assisted her with each and every breath. The rise and fall of her chest and the sudden stillness of her seemed to be too much all at once.
I raised my hand to my face, feeling the sobs begin to tear through my body. I walked over to the machine and with a trembling hand, flipped all the necessary switches.
I watched though tear filled eyes as the machine took her final breath for her. Her eyes never once opening.
21:17
The clock taunted me beside me. I swear I could feel my soul leave my body.
I listened to the tantalizing beeping of the heart rate monitor.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I listened closer as it begin to flat line signaling the end of her life.
BEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPP.
Silence. It filled the room. Filled my head, my heart. Everything. There is no moving on from this kind of pain.
Flashman stood before the mirror in his room. He gazed into the glass, his countenance strange before his eyes.
He had finally tried on the outfit.
He adjusted his tie for the sixteenth time--the sort of figure that is easy enough to recall when one is a robot--before turning his attention to the mask on the desk behind him. His desk, his mask; life was a strange sort of thing.
His reflection was tall. His hair short. His hands--he looked away from the mirror and into his palms--were made to look human, and yet, at the same time they were not. He could hear the faint hum and whirr of the machinery within them that allowed them to move; louder every year as the components aged.
The form he wore every day was not so different from the mask on the table. A covering, to disguise what was really beneath. Strange.
He recalled Mercury's words: "You were organic once, obviously. Something happened. We lost you."
Flash's hands twitched--flinching under the ferocity of his scrutiny--he looked away from them again, back into the mirror.
His eyes glowed, a pale green reflecting back into the room. Marking him as something different. Different from humans. Different, it seemed, even from his brothers.
Always different. Weak. Hidden behind a facade of bravado and rage.
Another mask.
Questions roamed his mind with the intensity of a prime directive.
He had not always been this way. Why had he changed?
Why had he been cursed with this--these feelings?
Where was the cold, calculating creature that he remembered from his birth? That had been him once, had it not? Why did the memory seem so far away?
He sneered at his reflection, as though he could somehow manage to intimidate it as he had once intimidated any who dared to offer him a challenge.
"You were a monster once," reminded a nasty little voice at the back of his mind. "How can you even imagine that others could have feelings for you now? Why do you care? How did you let yourself get so weak?"
He growled into his own reflected face, as though the man on the other side was the source of such troubling questions.
"Weak, and scared. Who could care for you?"
"Shut up," he growled into the darkness of his own thoughts.
Still the thoughts persisted, as though they were an echo that hung in the air beyond the mirror long after that bastard on the other side of the glass had spoken them.
"Shut up," he said again, with a bit more force.
Still the echo lingered.
Flash turned away a moment, eyes taking in the outlines of the mask on the table. Yet another mask he was about to wear. Another face to put on while others whispered about the man behind it, unknowing of their trespasses.
He turned then, his eyes a verdant flash off the shining barrier between himself and his reflection. His arm came down--with far greater force than required to do such a deed when one is made of metal--and struck the mirror. The wooden frame splintered, the whole of the thing cannoning back into the wall to shatter into a million tiny fragments; the glass rounded and glittering.
His face, that bastard in the mirror, reflected back at him a thousand times. Silent judgement. The sharp sound of breaking glass joining with the cruel voice of the echo.
He turned away and snatched up the mask from the desk. It was unchanged, somehow protected from the chaos only feet away. Flash pulled it over his face, obscuring his features.
Another mask. Life was a strange, crazy sort of thing.
Though, said the echo unpleasantly as he departed, it was quite possible that it was only he who was crazy.
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