( time period is a week after he brought her there. )
barry washing precious’s muddy feet after she tried to run.
he had caught her. of course he had. she knew she didnt actually wanna get out of there. she was scared. of barry, yes— but more scared of what she’d do all alone.
he had grabbed her by her tummy and held a gun to her throat. promised her he’d pull the trigger if she screamed.
now, they’re here.
she’s pouting. won’t even look at him. her body rigid with stress and frustration and other feelings she can’t put an exact name on.
his fingers trace the sponge along the soles of her feet— then between her toes. he glanced up at her a few times. she was perched on the counter, trying not to cry probably.
“you’re not gonna get outta here, precious. not ever. i’ll promise you that.”
barry said. she didn’t answer. didn’t say anything else the whole time. just looked away from his direction. she was probably embarrassed, he thought. embarrassed he could read her well enough to know she wouldn’t ever really wanna go.
he patted her feet dry. stared at her for a few more moments before grabbing her jaw and forcing her to look at him. he grins— a little bit. can’t hold it in. he leans in close to her ear.
“gun wasn’t even loaded. go lay down and come to me when you figure out how to fuckin’ talk.”
he spit out. pressed a hard and short kiss to her cheek. patted her jaw. left her to think.
maybe one day she’d admit to him that she wasn’t even really running.
━━ CW ; kidnapping , threats of getting pimped out .
cigarette burns on my collar, i don’t think i like this life that we’re living / surviving on honey and milk, you don’t give me much more to make sure that i’m breathing ━━ honey and milk , flower face
the little basement was dark, save for the spluttering glow of the lone lightbulb having above you. you sit curled up on the tattered mattress, knees drawn up to your chest and thin blanket wrapped tightly around your frail shoulders, aimlessly fiddling with the loose threads. the silence was heavy — oppressive — broken only by the distant hum of the fridge upstairs and the faint drip of a leaky pipe.
you hear his boots first, the harsh thud-thud-thud down the rickety stairs instantly drawing your attention. when the door creaks open, your head snaps up instantly, eyes squinting in the sudden light spilling into the cramped space.
“still kickin’, bunny?” barry’s voice drawls, lazy and low as he reaches the bottom, cigarette perched between his lips.
you nod quickly, clutching the blanket like a lifeline. “‘m okay,” you whisper uncertainly, like you’re afraid of saying something wrong. “yeah?” he takes a long drag, the ember flaring as his dark eyes scan the room. “been eatin’? drinkin’? don’t need y’droppin’ dead on me.”
you hesitate before nodding slowly, voice softer this time. “um, had some of the crackers.. and a bit of water.” barry exhales a puff of smoke right into your face, smirking when you start to cough. “good, good. don’t wan’ y’wastin’ away, what kind of man’d i be then, huh?” you don’t answer, heart thumping painfully in your chest at his proximity.
“y’lookin’ after my place, right? he asks lightly, but you hear the underlying warning. “yes,” you blurt out immediately, “cleaned up — jus’ like you said. didn’t touch anything i wasn’t supposed to, i promise.”
barry crouches down in front of you, stained hand coming up to caress your soft cheek. his touch is rough and unwelcome and the stench of him invades all your senses — sweat and motor oil and cheap beer. it makes your stomach clench and turn on itself, makes your nose twitch and eyes water. “y’know bunny, you really oughta be grateful. not everyone’d take such good care of you. world’s a mean place for such a lil’ thing like you, it’d eat ya alive don’t y’think?”
you press your wobbly lips together, blinking away salty tears. his grip on your face tightens painfully, dirty fingernails digging into your skin. “answer me,” he says sharply, cigarette dangling dangerously close to your face. “ain’t i done right by you?”
“y-yeah,” you tremble like a leaf as you force out the words, trying not to gag at his breath. barry nods slowly, smirk curling into something darker. “you’d be a real hit with the sorta folks i deal with. but no—” he lets out a humourless laugh, shaking his head and standing up. “gotta keep y’all to m’self.”
“could be sharin’ you around, makin’ somethin’ real sweet outta all that innocence y’got.” his words send cold terror through your body, a reaction so visceral you feel bile rising up your scratchy throat and goosebumps flooding your skin. you hear the threat loud and clear. “nah,” barry continues, carelessly flicking ash over your head. “too fuckin’ pretty f’that. too soft. wouldn’t last a minute out there without me, ‘n i guess i like havin’ somethin’ pretty t’come home to.”
the tears finally slip down your face, the warmth a stark contrast to the frigid air. you shove a hand over your mouth, trying to stop the sobs from escaping; you knew better than to be a nuisance. barry laughs bitterly as he turns around, shuffling over the steps once again. “listen, uhh. you keep y’mouth shut, yeah? gonna get us in trouble if you keep up all that cryin’ shit. don’t wan’ anyone sniffin’ around here. ‘n don’t you give me a reason to come back down here tonight. won’t end well, bun. won’t end well at all.”
Request: Could I possibly request an imagine where the reader leaves Barry having found out she was pregnant, but she has the baby months later, intending to never tell Barry until she accidentally runs into him. He then begs her to give him another chance as he swears he's changed. Sorry if it's too specific.
It’s been waaaay too long since I wrote for Barry! Also, everyone loved dad!barry so much last time, and all the comments were incredible, thank you so much! <3
Comments are always appreciated and welcomed!
Warning, some strong language!
‘Shit. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Why the fuck is he here?!’
The audition had already gone horribly. The guys sitting at the table in that drab, soulless room had huddled as soon as you had finished your monologue, their faces hiding from your view. You tried to shoosh your baby, waddling him to your chest and tucking his little blue bobble hat further down his tiny head, but you could still see the raised eyebrows and displeased sideyes from the panel.
Storming out without even leaving down your details, all you wanted was to get home and cry for a little bit, putting little Ryan down for a nap and enjoying just a little bit of alone time before Mr Cousineau’s class began. Walking through the grey offices, the dim lights casting your face in shadows, you headed out towards the main road. Stopping by the front door to rustle in your bag for the keys, you shuffle Ryan slightly over to your hip, balancing haphazardly on your foot for a few moments before finding solace by staring out of the window of the high-rise. Ryan, however, hadn’t appreciated the movement, and as you made to go, his cries started ringing out through the entry hall.
You hadn’t fully noticed, but the man sitting behind you had. The one whose hands were almost shaking as he held his paper, looking over his lines. The one who felt like he was sitting in a morgue, the air-conditioning so strong he could feel it on his forehead and on the palms of his hands, fast-freezing his sweat. The one with the dreadful, bleary bloodshot eyes, the one who hadn’t slept in weeks, not properly, not since you had left.
Barry had noticed.
‘Shit. Shit! Y/n? Y/n, is that you?’
‘Shit. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Why the fuck is he here?! You cannot seriously still be trying to be an actor. What, after what you’ve done? Are you kidding me!?’
He ignores you, mostly, as he stands up, patting down his jeans and walking slowly over to you. His eyes, wide and alert, are trained on the baby hiding his face into the side of your stomach, and he can’t stop his hand from shaking a little as he asks, ‘is, is that him? Is that our son?’
You don’t give him an answer. In fact, before you know it, you’re feet are out past the sliding door and hitting the sidewalk, car completely forgotten from your mind. The only thing rattling, screaming in your mind, is how you have to get away, far away from the man who kills people for a living. The iron-railings of the closest park, all but invisible in the inkiness of the dipping sun, are soon behind you and the tall concrete buildings loom in the distance. It takes you a moment to hear slight panting beside you, and as you slow down your jog, you nearly go weak at the knees to see the shocked face of Barry only slightly beside you,
‘Look, just leave us the fuck alone, okay Barry? I don’t want any trouble. Just leave us alone.’
Barry doesn’t stop following you though, his face smoldering underneath his stony expression as you glance back at him with eyebrows furrowed in worry. His feet fall in step behind you, glancing around with squinted eyes to make sure no one was watching the three of you, feet tripping slightly against the uneven pavement as his shoulder bumps into a streetlight. It’s only when you reach the next intersection, forced to stop at the red light that he finally dares to speak.
Grabbing onto your shoulder tightly, almost without meaning to, his whisper rushes out like a puff of wind. ‘Please, Y/n, just let me see him. Or her. Just let me see them, please, that’s all I care about. The last few weeks have been torture, literal torture. Please-’
He stopped when bright green eyes found his, like pieces of bottled glass, and Ryan laughed, as only a baby can laugh: a sweet sound unblemished by the hurts of life as he stuck his thumb into his mouth, hand grasping onto your shirt in a tight fist. His little face glowed from a light within, and he stared up at Barry, surveying him with his inquisitive eyes as if he knew. He knew!
Barry’s heartache was was like a wolf eating at his chest, tearing it's way to his trembling heart. It threatened to devour him, eat him whole and leave nothing but scraps behind. The ache of longing to be with the little bundle in front of him echoed through the very marrow of his bones, and he couldn’t help the cry that escaped his mouth. He never knew, never knew that missing someone he had never met could take over every fibre of your being. It felt like a torment even he was unprepared for.
Then it started. The shaking. He didn’t care about the curious onlookers, he didn’t care what people would think, would say about him. He didn’t care about Fuches, about Gene, about the acting class, about himself. Only the laughing child giggling in front of him. All he can do to stop himself from breaking, is whisper a soft ‘please, please’, over and over and over again with an ever increasing fervour. When the sound finally hits his own ears, he falls to his knees.
‘If getting past the pain means forgetting you, then I choose suffer my entire life, Y/n. Please, I’ll do anything. Starting now, I’ll do anything.’
I was thinking about Barry and I just started writing. This is the result. I'm an angsty bitch for Bill Hader.
Plot: I'm not sure whatever you want it to be
Warnings: wounds, language, death, probably a lot of grammar mistakes (sorry about that english isn't my first language and I wrote it in a rush)
-Hi-
-Uhm h-hi! -
-Can I help you? -
-No I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare-
-It's alright. I'm an actress, I like when people stare-
She smiled.
And he just knew she would be his ruin.
-Y/N I swear to god I'll leave you here-
-Then fucking leave! -
The place was surrounded. He could hear the syrens and the shouts of the cops right outside and their raging footsteps down the hall. There was only one way out and it was through that damn door a few feet away from them. And she refused to step through it.
-What do you think you're doing they're onto us! -
Y/N loaded her gun. -I'm gonna do what I was paied for-
-Y/N we're out of time- he gestured toward the broken window from which filtered a white light.
-We gotta run-
-I don't run Barry. I'm not like you-
Barry's chest heavied up and down as he stood in shock. The words made his stomach twist as she walked toward the staircase.
-Y/N! - he called.
She turned around, her face stone cold.
-Please- he begged.
-Go-
-I'm serious Y/N- he tried again. He could hear an imaginary clock ticking ever so fast.
-Me too-
-Y/N I swear to god I'll leave you here! -
-Then fucking leave! -
Barry's face was screwed in an expression of anger and hurt.
-Get to the back, let's move! -
The voices were almost there. The door was so close he just needed to take a few step away from her.
He gave her one last look as she turned around. He swore he could see regret in her eyes for a friction of second. But she had made her choice. She had always been so stubborn.
-I'm gonna be with you forever-
Her cherry lips whispered against his skin.
-Why would you do that to yourself? - he replied. He wasn't joking.
-Because you make me happy-
That was it, right? If a person makes you happy, you stay with them. You hold on to them for dear life because there's only a few things that make you feel like that in life and they're one of them. Even if it means they'll eventually destroy you. Even if they'll break your heart. Even if they'll get you killed.
A gun shot.
-Barry?! What the hell are you doing?! -
-I'm covering you-
The shouts were coming from every corner and beyond. The bullets were leaving marks on the wall. The guns in their hands felt like they were burning just as much as the adrenaline in their veins.
-You're not suppose to be here-
-That's where you're wrong- he said, and it felt like the bullets had stopped.
-I was suppose to be here, next to you a long time ago and I didn't. But I'm here now and I'm not leaving you-
Her eyes watered and he smiled.
And then a bulled hit his chest, fast and hard and hot and painful. And she screamed.
If you love somebody you'd be ready to die for them. But Barry wanted to live.
He had never been too worried about death, he was too good to die. But right now, feeling his blood rushing out of his body and his gun heavy in his hand, he was scared. Scared that he wouldn't be able to see her ever again, to touch her face to kiss her in the morning and in the night and before or after a job or in the backstage before a play or whenever and wherever he wanted to. And he was scared that they would take her.
So as he felt his knees wiggle and give out, he looked at her and her tear strained face and with the last of his strength he pointed the gun at the closest cop and whispered:
-Run-
Did she? Did she run away? Was she already out the door?
He couldn't tell. Everything went dark. And the last thing he saw were those cherry lips, screaming his name.
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.
* * * * *
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.
