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dickmedowndc · 3 months

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To Woo You, Pt. II - J'onn J'onzz x Reader

Word Count: 1,684

Summary: It’s a day that J’onn has been looking forward to since he finally managed to ask you out on a proper date – but now that it’s here he finds himself nervous. Thankfully, you seem to be in the same boat. But you’re both determined to make the night a good one, knowing there isn’t anywhere that you would rather be.

Notes: Requested by @iholli ! I hope that you enjoy this!

Part I here

…★…

It seems to be unfortunate luck that the following days happen to be filled with every criminal trying to sink their claws into some new venture. Keeping the League earthside for the better part of the days, and the Watchtower so busy that even when J’onn catches a fleeting glimpse of you that is all it can be.

The shifts seem to wear you to the bone enough as is, and while he knows you have tried your best to respond to his messages, he never even gets the chance to really tell you to sleep before you have passed out in bed mid conversation. You always let him know in the morning, which he continues to promise is a good thing.

Besides, the fighting has left him a little tired as well, though he never mentions a word of it to you, not wanting to risk rescheduling the date. Flash, in his good natured but mischievous spirit, had sworn to him that the date would happen, and nothing could stop it – not even the end of the world. Green Lantern had shaken his head and warned Wally that it sounded like he was going to jinx it, which seemed to do enough to hush him. For all of an hour.

Still, your bright-eyed optimism, even through tired slurring over voice message, put the Martian more at ease than anything or anyone else.

By Tuesday night it also seemed that word had traveled like wildfire. And plenty of staff gave him their best silent encouragement as he moved past them to catch you before you left. Mr. Terrific, Superman, and Flash gave their own encouragement, with even Batman giving him a nod. J’onn needed to find the individuals aboard the Watchtower more things to do, really.

Despite that, it had finally given him a moment to talk with you as you waited for the transporter to fire up.

“Are you alright?”

“Mm,” you hummed, snapping back to attention. You realized quick enough that you were beginning to doze off while standing. “I’m okay,” you assured, hands up in a motion of surrender. “Just looking forward to a shower and sleep.” Despite your body seeming ready to collapse where you stood, the smile on your face did not stop when you next spoke. “Need to be well rested for our date tomorrow.”

Though the lack of communication the days following his asking had been a small knot of concern for J’onn, it certainly hadn’t dampened your feelings towards it. It was a weight off his shoulders to hear. You had that ability though, to put people at ease or lighten the load with little more than a smile and your patience.

Before the conversation could continue any further, you were alerted to the transporter ready to go, bidding J’onn a quick and sleepy farewell, and he the same.

He didn’t need to turn around when he felt the breeze behind him, and a moment later his suspicions were confirmed when The Flash spoke.

“Feeling nervous?”

J’onn did not immediately reply, instead turning around to face The Flash who stood idly behind, far too interested in his plans for tonight. “Not anymore, speaking with them was... Helpful. In calming my nerves, at least.” J’onn supplied, already moving past the speedster.

“Well, good, you’ve got nothing to worry about, big guy.” Wally said, clapping his hand against J’onn’s shoulder and taking up step beside him. Before the Martian could excuse himself, he found that there was nowhere to go. Instead readying himself for the rest of his shift.

And the next day, when it had come far faster than expected, had proven that despite his words, he was still nervous when he arrived to knock on your door.

It startled you for a moment, when you answered it – because despite being warned that he would morph to appear human, your brain still expected to see the green Martian before you. It took a moment before the gears in your head connected the flowers and the time together with the man before you. “J’onn?”

“It is.” he assured, tilting the flowers out for you to take.

And hearing his voice was all it took to confirm his identity. You knew that you had broken out into a smile, you could feel the way your cheeks were already starting to hurt. Not that you had minded, you had been excited for this yourself all day. Barely able to stay still once you had woken up. You could also see that your smile had put him more at ease, watching the tension drop from his shoulders and his gaze soften. “I guess I just couldn’t connect the human look at first.” You laugh, ushering him inside for a moment so you can set the flowers in water.

“Apologies, but I thought this would be the best way to avoid drawing attention.” He shut the door behind himself, turning to watch as you skittered around your apartment with flitting attention between him and the blooms in your hand.

“I’m just used to seeing how you really look – but I’ve never seen you outside of the Watchtower either, to be fair.”

“If it means anything, that is an altered form as well, to put other humans more at ease with my presence.”

This line catches your attention, and you look back after the flowers have been safely slid backwards onto the counter. “Well, that’s certainly something to see,” you say, genuine intrigue in your voice. “When and if you’re comfortable with it.” you amend, stepping towards him once more.

J’onn knows you don’t miss the smile he gives you in return, offering his arm to you instead as you both move to the door. “Perhaps after a few more dates.”

“Well, that sounds promising.” You link your arm with his, stepping out and fumbling with the keys for only a moment to get the door locked before the pair of you continue out and in the direction of the restaurant you had agreed on.

The conversation after that flows just as easily, switching topics as you each find something new to question the other about. In your own little world, both of you almost walk past the front doors leading to the restaurant, before the smell of food catches your attention and your mistake.

The reservation and seating go off without a hitch and for a minute you’re just distracted by the interior instead – the lights and decor. “This is nice,” you say, almost under your breath.

“It was a suggestion, admittedly.”

“Well kudos to whoever suggested it.” You can’t quite help yourself from shooting a little flirting line in addition, though it is still just as sincere. “But I don’t think that I would enjoy it near as much with anyone else.”

J’onn opens his mouth for a moment to respond, but nothing comes out at first. He cocks a brow at you instead, well aware of the self-satisfied, mischievous smile that you’re trying very hard to keep off of your face. “Well, I certainly don’t believe that I would have brought anyone else here. It is much more enjoyable with your company.” That seems to kill the smile, but only to be replaced by earnest appreciation, one elbow propped on the table, face in your hand.

“Oh, a smooth talker,” you tease.

You’re interrupted for only a moment when the appetizers arrive, but the conversation picks back up flawlessly.

“Perhaps not as much as you give me credit for,” he jests, “considering how long it took to get to this point.” He can see the way that you cringe in response to that, a grimace on your face.

You shake your head for a moment before going to speak. “Okay, wait,” you pause, arm waving in the air as though you can physically brush away the embarrassment that you feel, “that one is really on me.” You groan, face hidden behind your hand for a moment.

“I still found it endearing. You were just excited to call me a friend, I did not want to risk that or upset you if I corrected you.”

You give a weak chuckle for a moment and shake your head before looking back at him. The heat radiating from your cheeks is noticeable, at least to you. “I was convinced there was no way that anybody from the League could be interested in me. Especially not you. It was surprising enough that you wanted to be friends, and I didn’t want to assume.”

“If it is any consolation, I had to seek advice from Flash before my last attempt. And I was provided with unsolicited advice from others as well.”

“I’ve had plenty of people coming up to talk to me about it now that it’s known. Romantic endeavors never stay very private on the Watchtower. But here is a question,” you say, pushing your food aside for a moment. “Did you ever just consider taking a peek into my mind to try and find an answer?”

It almost set J’onn on edge, but your voice and body language portrayed nothing but curiosity, keeping him calm. “I considered it once or twice, but I did not want to intrude since I wished to court you. And as it had nothing to do with our work or any danger, that was no reason. I have found many humans do not appreciate that psychic link.”

“Well, thank you for taking that into consideration. I do appreciate it. I was always curious if I would be able to tell if you were. But it sounds like it is something important to you, so I’m sure that it is something we can talk about more in-depth if we keep seeing each other.”

This seems to catch J’onn off guard for a moment. “I would like that.”

You flash him another bright smile before turning the conversation into something a little more light-hearted. You both continue, only stopping long enough to eat, even trying to speak despite the food. But more than eager to continue the date after dinner.

#nicole writes #dc x reader #j'onn j'onzz x reader #martian manhunter x reader

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dickmedowndc · 3 months

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Heart Stops - Bart Allen x Meta!Reader

Word Count: 1,731

Summary: The last anyone sees of you, it isn’t good. The fight goes south and any communication with you goes dark the moment the ceiling caves in on top of you. Bart is fast, faster than anyone on his team, but with a bum leg he feels like he won’t be fast enough as he searches for you among the aftermath.

Notes: The request from an anonymous user was for a Spiderwoman like character, but I do not do crossovers or gender specific (if I can help it). So, I gave the reader Spiderverse like powers and made them a meta. There was no prompt after that, so I used another “100 kisses” prompt: #86; “reunion kisses, “I thought you were dead.’”

…★…

It was supposed to be an easy mission. That was what had been murmured between the two of you as you had loaded up alongside your teammates and taken off for your mission. A soft squeeze of your hand in his was the last bit of physical contact that you had with him.

It was supposed to be easy.

It never was.

Granted, you thought as you saw the ceiling give way and come rushing towards you, things never seemed this bad. You tried to move, weaving through jagged stone that cut at your suit and skin where it came in contact with you, but you just weren’t fast enough. The injury to your knee and upper leg significantly slowing you down. As if your entire body wasn’t screaming at you from how you had been tossed around like a rag doll by the enemy between leaping from one wall to another – using an excess of webs and movement.

Everything was autopilot by this point. The aim of your arm and wrist, the twist of your hips. The world was hazy behind your mask, eyes bleary and unfocused. It was all you could do to just keep chanting to yourself, a repeat reminder that you just had to make it to the entrance of the collapsing building where you could already see the rest of your team. You focused on Bart the best you could, your heart twisting at the state he was in. One of his arms was slung over Wondergirl’s shoulders, supporting his entire weight as his head hung and he limped beside her, glancing around. You weren’t sure what he was searching for until a moment later when he looked in your direction and stopped, leaning forward like he was going to take off running and come get you.

There was a voice, rasped and worn, yelling out for him to stay put. A moment later you realized it was your own. A desperate plea to try and keep your partner safe. He was in no shape to run, and if you were going to get caught under the rubble, you were going to make sure that he was a safe distance away. He wouldn’t be fast enough like this, you knew it, especially not if he was dragging you out with him.

All you could think of was the one last swing you needed to throw yourself out. Just before your wrist was yanked back violently and your whole body lurched backwards, right towards the center of the chaos. One of the men you had been fighting earlier hadn’t escaped, too focused on taking one of you down with him – and since you were the only one left, his sights were set on making sure you would never walk back out alive.

It was terrifying, you thought, mind spinning too fast to really comprehend that you needed to move from the building raining down upon you as your body hit the stone floor and metal scraps.

It was terrifying to watch, and Bart had ripped himself away from Wondergirl before the stone had even encased you. But with his leg busted all the way up to his hip he collapsed almost immediately, grabbed by Beast Boy just in time. He wanted to scream your name, but his voice was caught in his throat, and nothing more than a garbled cry came out.

Everyone stood still for a moment, but that was all the time to pass before everyone who could move was lunging forward and heading for the rubble. Nobody said a word. Nobody needed to. They had all seen roughly the last spot you had landed, and really it was all the information that they needed.

Someone, Terra, Bart realized absently, was putting in a call for backup. “One down” was all he heard before he limped forward, determined to find you, even if it meant he would have to dig all night.

He would. Without a second thought, Bart would. Just like he knew that you would do the same.

It quickly became frustrating, however. His arms and hands could move just as fast as before, but he couldn’t get his feet to work alongside him. Barry was off world, so that wasn’t an option at the moment, and Jay likely wouldn’t be told. But this was time sensitive. You could take a beating, Bart knew that, but you were already so tired.

He had kept an eye on you through the fight, moving you himself when he could. But it was clear just how quickly you had been injured and worn down.

And Bart feared that if they couldn’t move the stone fast enough, that super strength wouldn’t matter. If it even mattered now.

It was a thought he wanted to tear apart immediately. It sat like bile in his throat. That devastating little whisper of “it’s too late.”

But he wasn’t going to accept that. You had a family to go home to. The two of you had a date that weekend – watching bad retro movies and eating junk food until the morning light streamed in. You had things that you wanted to do. And Bart wanted to see them happen. So that voice in his head was just going to need to be wrong. He was going to be fast enough. And you were going to be okay.

You had to be.

Bart didn’t even register the arrival of Superman. Not until the first boulder went crashing down behind them; it startled him as he looked up, bewildered just like the rest of his team. It seemed to be the call just before the rest of the League arrived. But as much of a blessing as it seems to be, Bart finds himself being pulled away by Black Canary a short few moments later to tend to his leg before it has time to heal back fully, before they can set it right.

So, Bart can’t see you, can’t see anything outside, when he hears over the commlink that they found you. That you’re unresponsive. And after that everything seems to go by in a blur as they rush you back to the medical wing through boom tube, because your chances are slim without immediate intervention.

That is how the next three days go. Bart barred from the room while you recover, still in critical condition. It doesn’t stop him from camping out in front of the door, however, his own leg long since healed and nothing to keep him on bed rest.

Unable to convince him otherwise, and your status slowly ticking upwards, the Leaguers charged with your recovery finally relent, allowing Bart at your bedside where he promptly refuses to move, keeping a hawk's eye on your vitals. This at least placates the speedster, for the time being, but everyone knows it won't be better until you finally wake up.

You’re still a long way off from being better, so when Bart feels you squeeze his hand, waking him from his half-asleep state, he thinks little of it. Until you do so again, this time refusing to let go as you let out a pitiful groan.

He’s sat up straight in an instant. “Take it easy, hot shot.”

His voice is enough to stir you, but you still look comical squinting at him in the dim lights. In your defense, you felt like you had just been hit by a truck. Or had a ceiling collapse on top of you. “I feel terrible,” you groan, your one free hand barely working enough for you to cover your eyes.

“You’ve had better days.”

You can hear the way Bart’s voice cracks, that little sniffle – and light be damned – you pull your arm away to take a good long look at him. He has dark bags under his eyes, and you can see old tear tracks on his cheek. More importantly, you can see the fresh ones threatening to fall. It has you breathless for a moment, your heart tight as you take in the way your partner looks so small in front of you. A rarity. One you’re happy to not subject him to on a regular basis. “That bad?”

Bart sniffles once more, looking down at where your hand lays in his before he covers your own completely with his other. “You gave us plenty of scares these last few days. I couldn’t even come in here.”

It breaks your heart to see him like this, and you do your best to add a bit more pressure where your hands are linked. “I’m awake now though. I’m gonna be okay.” Your words don’t seem to get through to him for the moment, so you tug at his hand, trying to get him to look you in the eye. “Bart, baby, what’s wrong?”

The breath he lets out is choked, and it takes another minute before he can get his words out, practically spilling onto the bed next to you as the relief finally takes hold. “I thought you were dead.”

It catches you off guard, but despite the pain you never even consider shoving him away when he drapes himself on top of you. It feels right. Feels safe. Even if you can feel the way he tenses, trying not to shake. “Bart?”

“I really thought you were dead. When nobody could get to you.” His voice raises for a millisecond, but when you flinch from the way it makes your head throb, he manages to get it back under control. “When I couldn’t get to you.”

All you can do is hold him for a moment and let him get himself under control – he hates crying in front of others and you know it, so you pretend that you don’t see it. But when the shaking has subsided, at least for that second, you manage to catch his eye. “I’m not going anywhere now.”

Bart stalls for a moment before flashing that loving little grin that he gives you when he’s trying to make you both feel better, before nodding his head in agreement and leaning forward.

You might be sore, but you waste no time in closing the distance to kiss your speedster. After all, you have a few days' worth of kisses to plant on him, until you really see that sunshine smile you love so much.

#nicole writes #dc x reader #bart allen x reader #impulse x reader #kid flash x reader #young justice cartoon

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dickmedowndc · 3 months

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Story summaries for the week of February 4th

"Heart Stops" - Bart Allen

Feb. 5th

★…★…★…★…★…★…★…★…★…★…★…★

"To Woo You, Pt. II" - J'onn J'onzz

Feb. 8th

#dc x reader #nicole speaks #bart allen x reader #impulse x reader #j'onn j'onzz x reader #martian manhunter x reader

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dickmedowndc · 4 months

Note

Hi! Huge fan of you’re writing here! This isn’t a request but I was wondering since you’re one of the few people who wrote for Conner Kent, what version of him do you usually picture when writing him?

Personally, I’m a BIG fan of his 90s design and the new Superboy Man of Tomorrow design. I know there’s many version of him though, all with different personalities, so I thought I’d ask to get a better grasp of his character in your writing!

As far as looks go, I certainly fall under being a fan of his 90's design, so 90's, Superboy MoT, etc., that falls in line with what I see as a general idea.

But that's the trick sometimes about writing a character with so many different versions that has changed so much over the years (and who is supposed to be a bit older in many of these instances), I may pull bits from different works without meaning to. My goal is to keep his core values/personality the same, even if little things may be different.

Generally that's my goal with anything I write, but different medias that I am more familiar with for each character certainly have more of an influence on the work that others (Like the Static Shock Animated Series for Virgil, because it was my first into to Static).

#nicole speaks #the letter pile 💌

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dickmedowndc · 5 months

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Misunderstandings - J'onn J'onzz x Reader

Word Count: 1,385

Summary: Working on the tower or in any vicinity of a hero was never a safe job – and while staff often got to avoid the worst of it, they were not always spared from injury. You had been lucky up until this point, managing to avoid the fray until one bad choice to switch a shift and help a coworker out. You got off lucky though, despite being one of the last to evacuate the room, you would heal just fine. At least that was what Martian Manhunter told you. But the coming days found him at your side more often than not despite being cleared, and you were unaware of the circulating theories surrounding the two of you.

Notes: Requested by @bellagomez-barriga (Tumblr). I really don’t know enough about the show you originally requested it from, honestly, but I tried to give you something close. I hope you guys enjoy!

…★…

It had to be today. Of course it did.

This was what you got for willingly switching shifts with your coworker, not that you would have wished them into your situation instead – you wouldn’t. But it didn’t make the panic that set in along with the blare of the warning alarms any duller in your mind.

You weren’t even sure what the threat was. If there had been an announcement over the comm systems then you had certainly missed it. But given the way the speakers seemed to crackle with white noise, it was more likely that communications had just been jammed instead.

There was no real time to think as the sirens seemed to blare louder in the hallways, workers making a break for whichever designated safe zone was nearest to them.

A few remained at their posts stubbornly, either the more seasoned workers or those newer who just didn’t seem to fear whatever unknown was headed for the tower and everyone inside.

It wasn’t like you had much time to think on the matter, or even double back to your own station in some last-ditch heroics – though your survival instincts screamed at you to keep moving. Because a moment later, as you made it to the threshold of the door, the entire tower shook and groaned under the impact of something against the exterior walls. The force shook you off your feet and sent you colliding with the harsh metal of the door frame, effectively knocking the air out of you.

For a moment you couldn’t tell if it was the shaking of the walls or the force of your impact that had the room spinning. All you could remember was trying to get to your feet, every nerve still screaming that you needed to get somewhere safe, before blurry vision gave way to pitch black.

When you finally came to, the attack was over. You tried moving but the blinding lights of the med bay only made you wince, raising one arm to cover your eyes to try and relieve the pounding in your head.

“It’s good to see you awake.”

The voice was familiar, but it took a moment longer for you to place it before you hesitantly pulled your arm away and looked to your left.

Thankfully he seemed to block out the worst of the lights, and while you still had to squint, it only took a moment before your eyes finally adjusted. Before you stood The Martian Manhunter, seeming to check over your vitals rather than look directly at you.

“Do I want to know what happened?”

“When the Watchtower was attacked you were thrown off balance and suffered a blow to the head, it knocked you unconscious. Some of the other staff saw and were able to get you to a safe zone until the worst of it passed, and then brought you here to the medical bay.” Finally, he turned to look at you, content with what he saw on the screens. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just got my head slammed into a wall,” you gripped, choosing to go back to closing your eyes as the headache steadily got stronger.

“Did you sustain any other injuries?”

“Only this headache and maybe my pride – depends on who saw me.” You risked a glance over to the Martian and noticed the uptick of his mouth for only a moment before his prior expression returned.

“That I cannot answer. You were already here when I arrived. But I may be able to find something to aid with your headache.”

“It would be appreciated.” You try to sound as sincere as you can with the pounding in your head, honestly grateful for the chance to ease the pain. “Thank you.”

“Of course, I'll see what I can do.”

At some point after he walks away you must fall asleep, because the next thing you know you’re waking up again to a nurse standing over you, offering medicine and a glass of water.

Thankfully you got off easy, especially compared to some of the others who had been working that day, and in only a few hours they let you out of med bay on the condition you return the next day for a follow up. Just a precaution, they tell you, and you agree, eager to get back on your feet. Especially since your shift ended almost three hours prior and the thought of getting to sleep in your own bed was sirens call.

Good things can never last forever though, and sooner than you would have liked you had been awakened by your alarm and set off to assist with the clean up around the tower. Besides, you were still due to check back with medical about your injury the day before. And that was non-negotiable, you had seen them track down people through the halls for less.

You shivered at the thought as you stepped into the hallway.

“Are you okay?”

The question shocked you and you whipped around, finding no one at first before glancing up, spotting the resident Martian halfway phased through the wall.

You blinked once or twice in surprise before nodding. “Feeling better, but I still have to do a follow up with medical today.”

“You were shivering a moment ago.”

#nicole writes #dc x reader #j'onn j'onzz x reader #martian manhunter x reader

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dickmedowndc · 5 months

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Kiss Tax - Bart Allen x Reader

Word Count: 1,856

Summary: Bart had always been affectionate in your relationship. Quick to give or ask for anything from a hug to a kiss – the latter of which he had made a habit of giving before each mission he went on. At least when it wasn’t something last minute or it was manageable. But you had finally decided to return the affections more yourself, beginning to ask for a “kiss tax” on small things such as passing through the door or handing over a drink. A practice that Bart seemed more than happy to adopt and turn around on you just as quickly.

Notes: Partially inspired by something from Feels Like Fighting Gravity, one of my upcoming OC/Canon fics, where Wisteria tends to demand a “kiss tax” for things – I thought it was cute. Also, inspired by a relationship headcanon that Bart tries to kiss his partner before each mission, just in case.

…★…

It was quiet.

Far too quiet.

You had been reading in absolute silence by the window for some time now, a storm pounding on the windowpane in a consistent lull, only interrupted by the bright white flash of lightning and the cracks of ground shaking thunder that sent a vibration through your home and body.

The quietness that had you narrowing your eyes and sliding a bookmark between pages was not the silence of nature – not with its ongoing war cry – but rather the silence of your home. It was unnerving, unnatural, after becoming so used to the sounds of a speedster making himself comfortable within the walls. Setting the book aside you reached over, grabbing your phone and flicking the screen on to see the time: 4:57 PM. Bart had been due back from his 3-day mission more than 3 hours ago. Granted, it wasn’t uncommon for a speedster to be late back from anything, but for such a stretch of time with no word from him, it was becoming concerning.

But you had faith in your partner and knew when he was free from his duties or the debriefing – or wherever he was – that he would be back. That was not to say, however, that it would stop you from curling up on your bed and waiting a bit longer. At least you told yourself that had been the plan, but the moment that your head hit the pillows you found your eyes were growing heavy without your consent and you fell asleep.

When you woke later it was with a start and a pressure pressed against your entire body, one that was vibrating as it laughed. Just as quickly your eyes flew open and landed on your boyfriend, all too amused with himself and face shoved into the crook of your neck as he continued to shake in his absolute mirth.

Finally, he stopped, just long enough so he could peak up at you and the faint mumbling against your skin could be deciphered. “Did you miss me?”

“I always miss you,” you assure, bringing a hand up to run it through his fluffy hair. “But I’m also starting to miss sleep.”

He said nothing, only pressing a series of too-quick kisses against whatever exposed skin he could reach. The actions leaving you a squirming mess under him as you tried desperately to avoid his attacks, finding yourself short of breath soon enough.

“Bart please, please stop,” you gasped out, one hand trying to pull his head back by his hair, knowing you weren’t hurting him too much, and the other trying to shove him back by one of his shoulders. It did little to dissuade him, his onslaught continued until there were tears in the corners of your eyes and you could no longer beg for him to show mercy. It shouldn’t have tickled you too much, and perhaps you should have seen it coming, but it was the very speed that he left those feather light touches, and the hands on your side keeping you from hiding, that made it all the harder to calm down.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Bart stilled. His hands were still planted firmly on your sides, but he allowed his body to collapse onto yours. He seemed as content as could be to just rest his head on your chest, looking up at you with faux innocence as though he had not been lovingly tormenting you only moments ago. He was good at that, and he knew it. “Too cute to be mad at” you had said one time, and he had run with it for situations such as this.

Finally free to take in as much air as our lungs burned for you could finally calm down. With one hand limp at your side, the other that remained webbed through strands of his hair had just enough feeling for you to pull him forward. “Come here,” you murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his lips when he finally complied. When you opened your eyes and pulled away, the only thing that you could see was the elated grin of your partner.

“What was that for?”

“A kiss tax, you have to pay a kiss tax now.”

Bart cocked his brow at you. “What am I paying for?”

“For tickling me, you menace. And maybe I’ll make you pay another one for being cute.”

“What if I don’t want to pay the tax?”

“Sorry,” you huffed, a gentle hand to his cheek, “no tax fraud allowed.”

Bart only laughed, following your gentle pull before kissing you once again. “For being attractive?”

You rolled your eyes at his words, moving to correct him swiftly. “For being criminally cute.”

“I think I can live with the kiss tax, even if it’s just to get you to start kisses more.”

You waved him aside, knowing it wasn’t a rude jab. Bart had known about your shy nature and your hesitance at giving physical affection on that level. It was well discussed. But it did not stop him from poking fun at it on the rare occasion.

But what you had not known that day, after fully deciding to lean into the kiss tax idea - because your boyfriend deserved it, and always made time to give you what physical affection he could, including a goodbye kiss before every mission – was just how happy it would make Bart. And just how eager he would be to pay said tax for each little thing.

But three weeks later it was resoundingly clear to you.

Bart had always been the more affectionate of the two of you – not that it wasn’t mutual. But he had never shied away from asking or surprising you with hugs or a quick kiss, he gave compliments like he needed to do so to breathe. It was a pre-fight good luck charm for him to find you wherever you were and kiss you before he had to go unless he did not have the time. Hand holding, domestic mornings just cuddling in bed, hyping you up to those around you. It was just the way he was.

And in private you returned his affections. Your own flustered nature leaving you stuttered over it in the company of others. You enjoyed it nonetheless.

But now Bart had gotten a taste of you regularly starting these moments, and he was enjoying it.

“Can you hand me that water?” he called, puppy dog eyes on full display as he stared longingly at the bottle from over the bed of the couch.

You could only shake your head at his antics before bringing it to him, still partially distracted by something you had been reading on your phone; Anita had been recorded during one of her saves recently and you were checking the highlights, mentally reminding yourself to congratulate her later. Your train of thought was interrupted when Bart cleared his throat. Puzzled, you stopped, looking at him in a silent question of what was wrong.

“I have to pay the tax, don’t I?”

You could feel the way your lips twitched up at the corner. You couldn’t miss the chance to mess with him. “I don’t know if I'll be collecting any tax on water.”

He looked like a kicked puppy almost immediately. He would put Dox to shame with the sad eyes he was pulling.

“But you took tax the other day.”

You could only roll your eyes before motioning him forward, the air knocked from your lungs when he practically threw himself over your lap. So much for reading the rest of the article, you mused, tossing your phone aside. You took a moment and just squished his face between your hands, earning a grumble as he turned away to break your hold. “Alright,” you said, relenting at last, “come here you big baby.”

Bart was more than happy to oblige, stealing a kiss faster than you could even register the act.

But when he pulled back, he had that look on his face you sometimes found you would regret later, like he knew something, or was planning something. You ignored it, knowing full and well that if he wanted to keep his secrets for the time he would, especially if he thought it would make the payout all the better.

The best you could do was enjoy the tranquility of the moment and resign yourself to whatever fate awaited you.

That fate, as you found out only hours later, was Bart now flipping the script on you.

Where it had previously been you requesting a kiss tax before letting him into your bedroom, Bart now stood in front of it, puffed out and taking up as much space as he could. “You need to pay the tax, sorry babe.”

You snorted and crossed your arms. “I need to pay the tax in my own place?”

“Don’t you do that already?”

Your arms drop to your sides as you sigh. “Alright, come here, you.” You pull him forward and give him a kiss, before ducking under him and making for the kitchen before he can change just how much tax you owe. Not that trying to outrun him has ever worked in your favor before anyways, but it always seems to make the both of you laugh, and that’s enough.

But his demands for kisses don’t stop there, and you find that Bart seems to have found a new past time – finding what things he can still do for you and still be able to collect tax. It isn’t every time, thankfully, so it keeps you on your toes enough. Nor does it seem to diminish just how excited that he gets each time you still make him pay with a quick kiss as well.

That’s good, because the way he lights up is something that you’re hoping you get to see for a long time to come still.

An admission you let slip after stealing another kiss when he tries to pull you in to cuddle.

Bart seems to go completely soft at that, eyes half lidded, and arms thrown around your waist so he can pull away long enough to just watch you for the moment. “Anybody saying you can’t?”

“No, but I wanted you to know. I don’t always tell you as much as I maybe should.”

Bart breaks out in a smile there – he could put the sun to shame – but it’s just as soft as it is bright. “You show me all the time.”

You can only raise a brow at that. “Really?”

“You do,” he insists, pulling you closer. “It didn’t take me that long to figure out how you show it.”

It's like a weight you didn’t know had been there is lifted when he says that. The kiss tax had been in part to show him that you cared just as much, and knowing that he already knew? It put you at ease. Enough so that you quickly found yourself curling into his chest to be lulled asleep by his heartbeat, aware he wasn’t far behind you.

#nicole writes #dc x reader #bart allen x reader #impulse x reader

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