DC x Reader One-shots

Bad Days - Bart Allen [Impulse]

Summary: If the universe could just give you a break that would be great – reasonable, even, after everything that had been going on in your life. As it currently stood, that was a far-off dream. Everything had accumulated to this one moment. Stood before you was some new villain of the week, unrecognizable, whom you had been lucky enough to stumble upon during his escape. You didn't care to know who it was – just intent on getting out of the situation before ending up a hostage.

Note: I need this to sort of vent. Unlike the reader in here though, at least my phone was found. Did I run across to grab it out of the road? Sure. Should I have? Mm, maybe not.

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Of course.

Of course, this is how your life was going for the moment. It had been an interesting enough few days to say the least. Your car had determined that it was no longer going to work for you – instead deciding to idle while your foot was on the gas before shuddering and forcing you to pull off on the side of the road. You were thankful enough the breaks were still up to doing their job. It had been one attempted fix after the other and your finances were beginning to look bleaker than normal if the current trend continued. At least without another paycheck due soon and rent due even quicker. Then in the glorious process of setting your phone on the hood while you checked over the tires, you had failed to remember the device only to realize later, after the tow-truck had dropped you off, that it was likely slung onto the road or somewhere in the abyss beside it. Never for your eyes to see again.

After days of little else going your way, you were done. With only $5 left in your account, you couldn't miss another shift at work. No matter how badly you wanted to call out. So that left one thing to do – pull on your uniform and walk the entire way there. Something you were less than keen to do in the humidity and sun, but your options remained far too limited.

It was slow going, admittedly, running across roads and weaving through people. Desperate for a little reprieve from the sweltering heat beating down on you, the choice to cut through the back alleys was easy enough. You knew this area like the back of your hand, and you knew you had plenty of time, if the old phone your roommate had let you use was anything to be trusted.

But maybe you should have paid more attention to your surroundings. Walking on autopilot, you paid no mind to the commotion ahead, writing it off as normal Central City excitement. An unfortunate misstep, you realize, when you feel yourself collide with a solid body.

The shock has you reeling for a moment, blinking up in surprise – making dead eye contact with a man dressed in a gaudy outfit who seems just as caught off-guard as you do.

It's a moment longer: one, two, three. And then 'click,' you realize exactly what is about to happen. Standing before you is some new super villain. Not a Central City regular, at least not yet if so, because you don't recognize the device at his side or his outfit. Much less him. And you feel the dread settle in your stomach as you watch the light behind his eyes come on; you, in all of your underpaid, sweaty, too-done-with-the-universe-right-now self has just volunteered as a hostage. In reality, you had the moment you took the backways.

You have to wonder in that moment if the pros outweigh the cons: Pros, the Flash family seem cool enough that one might even run you to work afterwards – and oh, now that you think about it, that is approximately one single pro; the cons, however, you're not in any mood to be dealing with someone who just crawled out of "Food Weekly for Villains," you're not in any condition to be meeting a hero, and you don't want to show up to work roughed up more than your commute is leaving you.

You try to make a break for it, gaze set past him before moving to enter into a dead-sprint. But the cogs in his brain seem to finally be turning, which you guess explains the smell of smoke, and he catches you – just barely. But it is enough to throw you off balance and pull you back flush against himself, one arm wrapped tight around your neck.