#impulse fanfic

[flashbrainrot]

My newest contribution to the KonBart Agenda.

I told you I would write something happy someday. So... Here you go, the boys enjoy a night of being normal teens at a carnival.

"Summer Nights (Under the Fireworks)"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/80433706

[dark-tulipssside]

Bart x Reader - Smut

- I wrote this a while back, figured I’d post it even though it’s unfinished. Since it’s just a quick, kinda bad, draft it’s going up on my side profile. Also guys there are so many different Bart fics now I’m actually so happy!

Your pants fill up the space of the room. The humid, sticky, air fills your lungs. It’s so hot, even hotter with your bare skin against Barts, his excess body heat almost making it unbearable.

Your legs tremble and shake as you bounce up and down Barts cock. You whine from the exertion.

You’ve been riding him for what feels like hours, you can barely keep your hips moving, but the way his sweet tip practically hits your cervix makes you want to keep going forever.

Panting, you let out shaking whimpers, eyes coming up to meet his.

They’re dim and dark as they look into yours. He’s entirely captivated by you, eyes dilated almost all the way, gold irises practically non existent.

His calloused hands trail up your thighs to grip onto your hips, they’re the only part of his body that seems to be immune from his healing.

They told your hips down harder, his pouty lips opening with a groan. His eyes don’t come off you for a second, holding your gaze as you both moan into the room.

For a moment, he gets this far away look in his eyes, you recognize it instantly.

He’s slowing down his own time to be here a second longer. Taking in how pretty you look as you whine on his dick. The way your hips feel in his hands, how they feel when you roll them down extra hard. How your face looks when he angles his hips a bit further up, getting just an inch deeper.

The use of his speed leaves the room even hotter, the familiar sent of ozone fills the room, his fingers leaving tiny friction marks on your skin.

“Bart” you shakily whine out.

You need more, need him.

His eyes focus again as he coos down at you. One of his hands comes up to lightly tuck under your chin, guiding your lips to his.

His lips are soft and kind compared to the way he starts pulling your hips down faster. He takes his time slipping his tongue inside, rolling over yours until you’re making sweet noises into his mouth.

“It’s okay baby, let me take care of you. You’ve been so good for me.”

Pulling away, he tucks your face into the safe of his throat, holding you close as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

His free arm completely wraps around your waist as he scoops you further into his chest.

“Poor baby, you’ve been doing all the work tonight. Been so mean to you, don’t worry sweetheart, I can take over from here.”

He peers up through his lashes, kissing your collarbone softly before rolling his hips up.

You squirm, whining and squeezing around him when he hits so deep.

“There she is. You needed this didn’t you baby? Needed to turn that pretty head off and be taken care of.”

You shake your head, about to protest before he lightly shushes you. Cooing at you like you’re being fussy, like he isn’t almost in your stomach with the way he’s pushing up against you.

He softly grabs the back of your neck, fingers gliding through your hair, before lowering you down to his shoulder.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, let me make you feel good. Such a pretty little thing, all mine.”

His voice turns raspy, dark and alluring, as he sucks marks into your neck. His hands pull you into him, making you take all of him.

His hips get harsher, fucking you fast and deep like he can’t get enough. He’s moaning into your skin, between his sharp teeth biting your shoulders.

“Bart- fuck, too much. No more marks, people are gonna see.”

He practically growls, almost feral as his hips move faster. “I don’t care. I want everyone to know you’re mine, that I fucked you dumb tonight.”

You wish you could complain, push him off and leave your own marks, but you’re being held so tight against his chest.

You have no choice but to take it, whining and writhing against him. You cry out when he taps into his speed.

“I know baby, I know. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Let it all out, let me hear you.”

He coos at you so sweet, so different to the ways he’s meanly plowing into you, practically bruising your cervix.

The world turns static, like you’re floating on air. He doesn’t stop, keeps going at his impossible speed, moans buried into your throat.

“Cum all over me, please. I won’t stop, keep going till you’re full. Fuck- use you for as long as I want.”

[munchkin1156]

Hermit-A-Day-May

Day one- Impulse!!! (Let’s see if I can keep this up)

Thank you to @hermitadaymay for running this!! This is my first time joining :D

Will be posted on ao3 later

Tws: Mentions of death, ghosts, graveyard (he’s sitting on the edge of a graveyard.)

Word count: 891

Enjoy!

. . .

The graveyard was silent during the dark hours.

Mist hung in the air, hanging small dewdrops on blades of grass and the threads in a spider web that had been made inside a large split in the wooden gate. It was an abandoned place, and the stone walls had crumbled more every year that went by without care.

The gravestones were crumbling too, though slower, and they had spells on them to protect them from the passage of time. Vines climbed them, their leaves and flowers covering the names of the forgotten. No vengeful ghosts were here, haunting the graveyard, and making it treacherous for anyone who dared come past. This was what graveyards were meant to be. A place of peace. A place of rest.

Impulse came here often, to think. The lights that hung off his ears, tails and horns always chimed when he got near. He could never work out why, but he didn't spend a lot of time worrying about that. There were more important things to think of. He sat on the edge of the wall, facing away from the resting place, if only to look out at the trees.

They were tall, looming far above him. Their wood was old, creased with the details of hundreds of years. Some people were afraid of them, or what might be between them. Impulse was fairly certain that's why they'd been planted. To keep the wakefulness of the living from disturbing the sleeping dead. He was quiet, and he didn't try to ruin anything, so whatever spirit was guarding these parts let him stay.

He breathed in deep, taking in the cool air. Though the summer days were hot, the nights remained crystal cold here. It was one of the things he loved about it. Demons, or whatever sort of demon descendant Impulse was, preferred the frigid temperatures the dark brought. Something to do with the sun. The sun never hid anything. Everything could be seen under the sun's light.

By moonlight, things could stay hidden. At dusk, with only the moon and his spirit lanterns, Impulse could lie and cheat and swindle, with the most beautiful enchantments, whole worlds built up out of whatever he spoke, knowing he could slip back under the safety of the stillness and the mist.

Perhaps that was an odd way to think about it. But Impulse was a demon descendant. He didn't have another option of thinking available. But sometimes he tried, and that's when he found himself taking the rundown path to the graveyard. The dead knew so much now that they were resting, and when he sat there, on the threshold, he found thoughts in his head that weren't his, yet guided him more than he himself ever could. And in return, he kept the graveyard from falling apart completely.

He didn't remove the vines, but he made sure the names weren't scratched out if one were to look. He kept the spell on the stones strong. He lit the lanterns during storms. And he put flowers on the graves who's names were not there. Impulse knew about being forgotten. And he made it his job, his obligation, his pleasure to care for the ones that had been for centuries.

You might call that kindness. Or you might call it common sense. Impulse didn't mind, whatever people called it. It was the doing it that mattered. As long as he kept doing it, it kept mattering. Maybe one day, someone else would do it too. Who knows? People might learn. But you couldn't rely on it. And you certainly couldn't hope someone else might do it instead. You had to make it your own wish, when you couldn't put that trust in others.

Impulse sighed. The graveyard didn't need anything from him tonight. Besides, all that thinking had been his own. He had no need to give back now. It was a perfect night, and through the mist, the moon bathed everything in silver. He slipped down from the wall, and began making his way back, to the village, the tinkling lights guiding his way. His boots crunched in the wet grass, the only sound for miles to come. A soft humming filled the air as he walked. Every few minutes, he'd stop, and light one of the lanterns that hung, near brokenly, along the way. It wasn't necessarily for the dead. Impulse knew it helped for them to find a proper resting place, one with real magic that would guide them, which wasn't always the one they were buried in. The lights did help with that.

But some part of him had lit the lights, just in case there was a traveler who followed them. The fact remained that you couldn't trust other people to do the same thing you do, and care in the same way you have. You still had to keep doing it yourself, and Impulse knew that, from years of his life gone by, better than anyone.

He knew all of it. And he wasn't hoping for someone else to give back what he took. That was his bargain, and his alone. Still, it would be wonderful, for him and those resting, if the place they rested could be found again.

People didn't like to be forgotten. And Impulse made sure they wouldn't be.

. . .

Taglist: @i-am-beckyu, @da3dm, @faeiyn-cant-write, @boiled-ginger-ale, @local-squshmallow, @akatthatwants2sleep, @vocal-nyx-cords

Taglist just for fics: @mushr00mgurl

I hope you enjoyed, and I’ll probably see you tomorrow for the next day of may!

oh god we’re back with the horrors now…

[mandareeboo]

Those it Deems Worthy

Title: Those it Deems Worthy

Summary: Inertia walks into the speed storm, gets his butt kicked by it, and gets spat back out. He thinks he's never going to be loved again. The Claiborne family prove him wrong.

Excerpt:

Thad doesn't beat around the bush. "When should I leave?" Max looks up from his hands, fluffy white eyebrows raised high. "What?" "I'm not a nitwit," he reminds him tersely. A little jab. This is not Bart Allen he's talking to. "I've overstayed my welcome. I'm not injured anymore. I can be out by tomorrow morning, I just need to make some phone calls-" "Bullshit," Max says, lightly. "You don't have anywhere to go." Thad feels himself start to tense and rushes on. "There's plenty of places I could crash. I'll find work just fine with my abilities, and soon I'll be able to repay you for..." He's not quite sure what to end that with. There's so much to repay. Some of it doesn't even feel like it was totally his fault, like they'd both stepped too close to a grenade and should just shake it off and walk their seperate ways. "I did this wrong," Max admits, massaging his brow. "I'm not kicking you out, Thad. Okay? We want you to stay." That just doesn't feel right. Doesn't feel earned. He can't stop himself from asking, "Why?" And Max Mercury, bastard he is, looks him dead in the eye and says, "Why not?"

A gift for my buddy! I had a lot of fun writing these characters. Thad is so very self-conscious, but he also has a massive ego, so it mixes into this. I hate all of you. I tried to kill you. But also if you died I would've been REALLY mad.

Buy me a coffee?

[melyaliz]

@werewitchling:   14, 15, and 17 Angst for Bart Allen? (sorry if only allowed one prompt per character)

14. “Can you shut up for once in your life?”

15. “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.”

17. “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

Prompt List

Fandom: DC / Young Justice TV show

Pairing: Bart Allen x Reader

Notes: This one turned out longer than I anticipated. Guess I’m a little more chatty than I thought. Also, I didn’t add in the last one verbally. It just didn’t fit. If you want I can change that.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

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He was always so happy. Always making jokes. It was as if Bart Allen didn’t have a care in the world.

To everyone else that is.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but whenever you talked ot him there was always this slightly bitter taste in your mouth. Always that salty scent of sadness. Always that tinge of a pitch as if on the verge of tears.

But what did you know? You hardly knew the kid really. Yeah, you both had gone on a few missions but honestly never talked much outside of this hero life.

Which maybe made the flight to your mission together so awkward.

Two weeks after Wally. It felt too soon if anyone had asked you. Which they didn’t. So you went along with the mission.

But who were you to judge the elder team members?

“I’m excited to work with you H/N” Impulse said running up and sitting next to you. His fingers tapping on his leg quickly as he looked around the plane. You nodded playing with a strand of your blue wig.

“Me too impulse, it’s always a lot of fun with you,” you said trying to show him some kindness. Anything to try and fight back that strange forced smile you always saw on his face. That pain that leaked through him like storm clouds ready to burst.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Help the bigger heroes evacuate a small village that was in the middle of a battlefield between the rotten government and rebels. They figured with Bart’s speed and your abilities to control the weather it would an easy mission.

The problem was they didn't’ see what you saw.

How broken Impulse really was.

Even you had underestimated his buried pain until you both were standing there in the middle of it. You pulling a low fog around the refugees helping hide them as Impulse ran back and forth into the small homes helping people out.

Everything seemed to be fine until it wasn’t.

“Where’s Bart?” you asked one of the military men who was helping the people board the planes.

“There was some meta out there, I don’t know some laser dude, he went after him.”

Shit.

Above you, the sky swirled in tense anticipation.

Something was wrong.

Quickly you ran toward where the shoulder pointed.

You found him standing there frozen in his tracks eyes side. A small man laying in front of him. Not breathing.

“Impulse?”

“I… there’s…” his skin was pale deathly pale. You looked up to see the meta the soldier had told you about holding a man by his throat red electricity sparking around him the ground from his energy.  

This wasn’t good.

“Hey, Mister!”

He turned to look at you as the sky above rumbled with your own anger. The frustration of the world around you. The injustices you had to confront every day. People like this guy spreading so much pain while those like Impulse and these villagers lay in his wake.

“Well hello, little g….”

He didn’t even get to answer as you launched yourself at him with the force of a tidal wave. Lighting flashing from the sky crashing into him.

Your body lighting up with the energy of the elements that flowed through you as you pounded him into the ground as the heavens themselves seemed to open up around you.

Moments later the meta lay on the ground knocked out, a Meta collar on his neck ready to be picked up.

Slowly you walked toward Bart kneeling down in front of him.

“Are you ok?” you asked. He shook his head as if waking up from a dream, blinking a few times his gaze focusing on you.

“Yeah, I’m totally crash. That was pretty amazing H/N I mean the way you…”

“Can you shut up for once in your life?”

“Huh?” for the first time in probably this whole life, Bart wasn’t sure what to say.

“Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.” you said helping him up, “Always bottling up those emotions just makes it worse.”

“I… I’m fine” the words sounded wrong, even to him. You studied him, watching it all coming up, bubbling to the service. The pressure building.

You gently took his hand in your own, “you’re not, and that’s ok.”  you said pulling him into a hug. Pulling him to you as if you could hold him together.

He hugged you back letting it all go, tears running down his cheeks like the soft rain that was gently falling across the now silent battlefield around you both.

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-GET TAGGED!-

Tagging: @royslittleharper​​  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​ @coffee-randomness​​ @daisyboobear​​ @werewitchling​​  @jason-redhood​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @ocelysium @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep

[homeispeople]

Tipping Point

Requested by anon

“height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes + bart allen if its okay??”

I’ve written two stories, one where the reader is taller and one in which Bart is taller. Both these stories are based on when Bart goes to college, so they are age appropriate:

Tall Bart Allen x Shorter Reader

“Bart, are you home?” you knocked. Finals week was coming up and Bart had been very busy with his studies. You two had become close over the last semester. You knocked once again, “Bart?”

You could hear some shuffling sounds from the apartment. The door creaked open, “(Y/N), it’s you. Come on in.” he said groggily. His hair was messily tousled. You must have woken him up from a nap. With one hand raised, Bart was leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing pyjama bottoms and was bare chested.You couldn’t help but stare, you were surprised by how toned his body was. You snapped out of it and replied, “Oh no, I need to get back to studying. I just thought I’d drop off some doughnuts for you. Figured you could use a snack.” you smiled and handed him the bag of doughnuts.

“Thank you.” he said in his still sleepy voice as he took the bag, his hand lightly brushing yours during the exchange. 

“You’re welcome, Bart. Sorry I woke you up from your nap. I’ll see you later? I need to get going.” you said. 

“Hang back for a second.” he said as he held your wrist to stop you. You lifted your head a bit to make proper eye contact. You were always aware of how tall he was but standing this close to him was different. He was towering over you. He leaned down a bit and said, “I really appreciate the doughnuts, (Y/N) and I should have done this a long time ago.” Puzzled, you asked, “Done what?” 

He bent down and planted a kiss on your lips. You stood on your toes and began to reciprocate. He dropped the bag of doughnuts on the floor and held your waist tight with both his hands. You were still on your toes. Still kissing you, he pulled you inside his room and led you to his bed, you slammed the door shut behind you, the bag of doughnuts lay forgotten.

Tall Reader x Shorter Bart Allen

“You know I hate this.” Bart complained, as he broke apart from the kiss. You let out a giggle, “Just one more like this? then we’ll do it your way.” 

“Fine.” he complained as he stood on his toes again to reach your lips, you leaned down a bit and found his lips. Anyone else would have been insecure to date someone taller than them, but not Bart. He didn’t care about the height difference. He loved you for who you were. 

“(Y/N). My way, now.” he grinned wickedly as he pulled away. He sat on an armchair and beckoned you over. You shook your head and went towards him. You sat of his lap, your legs straddling his. He held your back firmly and started kissing you. He hated the height difference when he had to stand on his toes to kiss you but the height difference when you were sitting on his lap always excited him.

You pulled away and asked him breathlessly, “Better?”

“Much better.” he said kissing your neck.  

[flashbrainrot]

I just read a very cool sickfic about Bart and I am going to put you all on it. It's TimKonBart, btw.

Is it an autoimmune disease if it's technically caused by an extra-dimensional force? — Nemusteel.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[flashbrainrot]

Now that Ao3 is back... Just a reminder that I finally wrote a happy thing.

Mondays are a pain, so a little bit of fun is always advised.

Enjoy the boys having some fun at the funfair!

"Summer Nights (Under the Fireworks)"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/80433706