#flash dc

justice league reaction drawings 😼

I am so new to DC and comics it hurts… I need MORE anywho feel free to use these I think they are silly :)

wally west x fem!reader . . a series of texts you would exchange with the flash as his sunshine nugget .ᐟ smau.

note: oh how i love wally west ☺️ gnaws at the bars of my arkham cell

content: (overuse of silly) petnames, suggestive, one (1) ab pic, pushing the genius/nerd wally agenda!!! dick grayson mention, ignore timestamps as always, and i think that's it!

[main masterlist] . [dc masterlist]

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Part 49! It's been a while! Sorry, life has been super busy and hectic recently!

Bruce Wayne x reader

summary: you are always teasing Batman, and this time he's getting you back for it.

The medbay on the Watchtower was quiet except for the hum of machinery and the steady drip of someone else’s IV two rooms down.

You should not have been here. More specifically, you should not have been sitting on one of the examination counters in Bruce Wayne’s shirt while Batman stalked around the room looking like he was two seconds away from developing a new psychological disorder.

“This,” he said flatly, “is exactly why I said not to improvise.”

You hopped off the counter carefully, shoulder stinging. “In my defense, your plan sucked.”

“My plan accounted for the sniper.”

“It did not account for the second sniper.”

“It would have if someone had stayed in position.”

“Oh my god,” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “You are literally impossible after missions.”

Bruce stopped moving.

That was the thing about him, most people got louder when they were angry, but Bruce always went still.

The room suddenly felt much smaller.

“You disobeyed orders,” he said quietly.

“And everyone lived.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“It kind of is, actually.”

Your voice bounced off sterile metal walls. Tension still burned hot under your skin from the mission since the adrenaline had not fully gone yet. Gotham docks. Smuggling shit. Meta-tech trafficking. A near miss that had ended with you tackling Bruce behind cover half a second before a round shattered the concrete where his head had been.

You were still bleeding through the bandage on your shoulder for it. And somehow he was angry.

Behind the glass doors, you caught sight of Superman walking by. He took one look inside the medbay, immediately pivoted around, and left. Coward.

Bruce tossed disinfectant onto the counter beside you. “Sit.”

“I can patch myself.”

“You stitched your own arm last month and nearly passed out.”

“That happened one time.”

“You passed out onto the Batmobile.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You bring that up constantly.”

“Because it was memorable.”

If that was Bruce Wayne's attempt at a joke, it was rather pathetic. But you supposed that a man couldn't have everything.

And annoyingly enough, it made your irritation crack for a second. Bruce noticed immediately. Of course he did, world's greatest detective and all that shit.

He stepped closer, hands moving to unwrap the ruined bandage from your shoulder with clinical precision. It all honestly would’ve been easier to deal with if his hands weren’t so unfairly steady.

“You’re glaring at me,” you informed him.

“You’re injured.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No,” Bruce agreed calmly. “You’re usually more annoying.”

You let out a startled laugh despite yourself. Big mistake. Because Bruce looked up at the sound. And for one stupid second, the entire atmosphere shifted.

There was always something slightly dangerous about his attention. People thought Gotham feared Batman because he was brutal, but that wasn’t really it. Gotham feared Batman because he noticed things. Everything. Every little weakness. Every lie. Every bit of hesitation mustered up and right now all of that focus was aimed directly at you.

Your smile faded a little.

Bruce’s thumb brushed briefly against the inside of your wrist while adjusting your arm. It was probably an accident. Still, heat climbed your neck instantly.

“You keep doing that,” you muttered.

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me like that.”

His gaze didn’t move. “Like what?”

Like he was thinking something he absolutely should not be thinking, and he knew damn well what he did to people! He enjoyed watching you lose your composure.

You looked away first. “Forget it.”

Bruce stepped closer instead. The movement backed you against the counter again before you fully realized it. You weren't exactly trapped but you wouldn't say you were free either. There was still space to move if you wanted.

“You’ve been reckless all week,” he said quietly.

“You’ve been unbearable all week.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“You’re hovering.”

“I’m assessing damage.”

“On my shoulder, or psychologically?”

His mouth almost twitched.

Almost.

“You think you’re funny.”

“No,” you said. “I think you’re funny, actually. Secretly.”

“That’s unlikely.”

“You growl at people all silly.”

“I do not growl.”

“You literally communicate in disappointed silence.”

“It’s efficient.”

“It’s dramatic.”

Bruce tied off the clean bandage with a sharp pull. “And yet you keep provoking me.”

The room felt warmer suddenly. You crossed your arms carefully. “Maybe because you act like nothing affects you.”

That got his attention, and a dangerous sort of quiet settled over him.

“Nothing affects me?” he repeated.

Your stomach dipped slightly. But you were committed now.

“You know what I mean,” you said. “Everyone walks around you like they’re scared to breathe wrong, and you just—” you gestured vaguely toward him, “—stand there acting emotionally invincible.”

Bruce stared at you for a long moment.

Then he laughed completely humorless. It was somehow more intimate than if he’d touched you.

“You think that’s what this is?” he asked.

Something in his tone made your heartbeat stutter.

“Bruce—”

“You think I don’t react because I don’t show it.”

Another step closer.

Close enough now that you could see exhaustion beneath his eyes. The faint white scar near his jaw. The controlled restraint holding every inch of him together.

“You think,” he continued quietly, “that I haven’t noticed the way you look at me after missions.”

Your breath caught. Oh, this was bad. This was very bad.

Because the problem with teasing Bruce Wayne was that eventually he stopped letting you control the game.

“And you,” you said carefully, “think way too highly of yourself.”

“Do I?”

“You’re impossible to flirt with.”

Bruce’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth. Then back to your eyes.

“No,” he said softly. “You just haven’t realized when you’ve succeeded.”

The silence afterward felt catastrophic.

Every nerve in your body suddenly became hyperaware of the fact that he was standing between your knees, one hand braced against the counter beside you. He still looked completely composed! You were losing it. You were losing it! Your brain had effectively dissolved into static.

From the hallway outside came Barry Allen’s voice:

“Hey, Bats, have you—”

The door slid open. Barry stopped dead. You and Bruce both looked over. There was a six-second silence.

Then Barry slowly backed out.

“Nope,” he said immediately. “Nope. Whatever this is? I’m deeply against it.”

The door shut again.

Bruce exhaled through his nose.

You stared at each other for one long, unbearable second, and then bubbled into laughter. The breathless kind that escaped after too much stress and not enough sleep. Bruce looked at you like he was trying very hard not to smile.

Which somehow felt more dangerous than if he actually had.

⋆˚꩜｡ Flash/Wally West x reader (smut 18+)

Wally West uses his super speed to be a personal back massager…what else could you possibly use that for?

CW: smut, AFAB reader, COOCHIE EATING WOOOO, not proof read

This sucks BUT it was written because it was an itch I had to scratch

Your voice reverberates as you attempt to keep a steady tone which is shaky by Wally sitting behind you, with both hands on your back as he vibrates.

Initially, you had asked for a simple massage and laughed mirthfully with Wally using his miracle working gift to vibrate the knots out of your upper back.

“AhHhHhHhHh!” You grin as you test the strength of his vibrations through your voice before breaking down into laughs, turning your head to look back at him.

His own toothy smile mirrored your own as he scrunched his eyes while keeping the smile up. In a moment of playful teasing, you remark “I wonder where else you can vibrate on me.” As if it was a minor passing comment