dceu_kinkmeme | DCEU Prompt Post #1

Oh, Clark, poor Clark, you're really torturing him, anon author (not that I mind). ;D And of course he's mostly nervous about the attention because Clark Kent is not supposed to get any attention. And aw, Lois. At least you were kinder to Clark about what his time in the coffin was like than we are at other times. ;D This part was great, even if I missed Bruce a little bit. ;)

/OP

dfgkjdfgkdj this is so perfect. Bruce putting up a chair for Clark in the Cave (so they can argue, yay!). And protective Bruce who is so much less concerned about himself: Funny how Bruce never considered extra precautions when they were running into a building full of people with guns. :DDDDD

Their animosity is just so great, and Bruce's curiosity, and I just love how you write them so much. Bruce is such a manipulative shit, I adore him. Oh, and this:
He sounded like himself again, clipped and cranky, and his lip curled with disdain.
I love this description. And this one, too: That determination wasn't something Bruce ever faked. He'd never need to. It was indelible, like his fingerprints, or the sound of his heartbeat in a crowded room.
Just, the way you write Bruce's masks and layers is so perfect. And I am very curious about what Clark is going to do next. Such an amazing fill, thank you so much for writing this. :D

seem like a good porn-verse batman v superman!
someone pls fill this!

I've adored this ship for about 10 years but this is my first fic. The fill and scenario made me think of something silly, but also something hot (but that's probably just Snyder aesthetics). This probably wasn't what OP was expecting, but I hope you get some enjoyment out of this. Thanks for writing a prompt that finally got me to write a SuperBat.

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The Batman flexed his wrists against the metal bindings, chains rattled above as he swayed, the toes of his boots scraping the floor. Unfortunately for him, his captor actually didn't bind his forearms, so he couldn't even trigger the blades in his gauntlets to cut his way out of this situation. The darkness smelled of home, and the trickle of water echoing off stone walls told him that it was the Batcave. Batman could feel the cowl pressed against his face, and the cool brush of his cape against his back.

Up ahead, the Batman heard one of the cave exits open with the scrape of stone and metal, and the red glow of dusk illuminated the rocky russet walls before him. The Superman flew down, landing on one knee with a crash that cracked the earth, red cape settling around him like a pool of blood that cascaded down as he rose to his feet. The halo revealed an expression of hunger as the son of Krypton raised his head to lock his gaze with the knight of Gotham.

The Batman felt his pulse speed up as the Superman slipped into the darkness towards him, like that nightmare all over again. Adrenaline spiked as he pulled against the bindings once more, but he stilled when a light above him switched on. He flinched away as a hand reached out of the darkness, but was unable to stop it from tearing the mantle from him. He grit his teeth as he turned to look into the Superman's eyes, but felt his jaw go slack as Kal-El stepped into view, completely bared to Bruce with his red cape clenched in one fist.

Bruce drew in a sharp breath when a hand capable of crushing steel pressed against his stomach and skated upwards. Up, up, up over his ribs, pausing to brush over a nipple ever so lightly that it drew a faint moan out of him. Anxiety gripped his diaphragm when the hand stopped right over his heart, and he was surprised to hear himself breathe out a sigh of relief when it resumed its path up to neck. Finally the hand settled against the side of his face, and Bruce leaned into it like a cat.

“You took everything from me,” Kal whispered into his neck, Bruce grunted with frustration that he was laden down with so many layers while Kal stood nude in front of him. Kal brushed his thumb over a sharp cheekbone, “It's only fair that you let me take something from you,” and he slunk to his knees, nuzzling a cheek into Bruce's trapped length. Chains rattled above them as Bruce yanked at his bindings again, but remained unable to escape. He felt his utility belt slither from around his waist, falling to the floor with a clatter.

“Careful with that!” Bruce growled irritably, “You're familiar with the kind of firepower I carry.”

Kal smirked up at him as he pulled Bruce's stiff member from their confines. Bruce locked onto those unearthly blue eyes as Kal bent forward and engulfed him in wet heat. He keened loudly into the cave as a hot, velvet tongue stroked and pressed against the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Bruce never understood how anyone could mistake the creature of delightful sin knelt before him as a god. Kal's head bobbed beneath him with a bounce of curls, then he swallowed Bruce down, held him deep in his mouth and pulled off completely, a trail of saliva connected them and Kal stuck his tongue as he looked through his lashes up to Bruce.

Kal leaned back on a hand and wrapped his free hand around himself, cape splashed around him on the cave floor. Bruce watched, enthralled as Kal flexed his hips and thrust into his own fist like a dance. He watched as Kal bent back onto an elbow into the cape that twisted beneath him as he pulled and writhed and stroked himself to orgasm, his body pulled taut with a soft cry of, “Bruce,” as he came with a splash into his hand.

“Clark,” Bruce rasped desperately, his own cock twitched upwards, still hard as a rock. He tipped his forehead into his own arm, destroyed before his destruction. He watched Clark pull himself back up onto his knees, and lean forward to kiss the tip of Bruce's cock. He thrust forward into emptiness when Clark pulled his face back at the first sign of movement.

He tilted his face up to Bruce and said firmly, “Remember. This is mine to take, not yours to give.”

Bruce reigned in his breathing and allowed the tension to release from his body, “Alright, Clark.”

Clark leaned in and wrapped his lips around the tip of Bruce's cock. Bruce watched a soiled hand disappear behind Clark, watched Clark's thighs tense and relax as he stretched himself with his own come as lubricant. He trembled when Clark moaned around him and tongued his hard length until Bruce was slick with his saliva. Then Clark pulled away again before he could finish, and Bruce cried out breathlessly, “Son of a--.”

Clark levitated into the air until he was eye level with Bruce, the cape in his hand rippled behind him like the fins of a fighter fish. Bruce drank his beauty in greedily, all the ethereal, sun-kissed skin, the cock that hadn't even softened after orgasm. They leaned into each other as they met in a hungry kiss, Clark wrapped an arm around Bruce and floated up through bound wrists so that Bruce embraced him around the shoulders. He pulled one of Bruce's thighs up to a sitting position and guided Bruce's length into himself, letting out a pornographically satisfied moan as Bruce sank into him.

“You're so ridiculous,” Bruce laughed at their flying sex gymnastics, “Beautiful and ridiculous.”

Clark locked his legs around Bruce's waist, “Bring your other leg up, babe,” Bruce pulled his leg up as instructed and Clark wrapped his other hand under the thigh, then started fucking himself on Bruce. The length of chain above--now slackened by Clark taking all of Bruce's weight--rattled noisily.

“Fuck! Clark, I'm close,” his hands were now wrapped around the back of Clark's neck, hanging down as Clark fucked down at a steady rhythm, his cock drooling a messy trail of come onto Bruce's torso. He felt Clark tighten around his length, listened as Clark moaned louder and louder, then heard himself yell out, “Oh fuck, yes,” when Clark came again, milking Bruce as he continued to fuck himself through the haze of pleasure.

“Come on, Bruce,” he whined and ground Bruce deeper, and deeper still until he coaxed a screaming orgasm out of him at last, “Yeah, there you go. It's all mine.”

Their breaths began to even as they swayed through the air with Clark holding them up, and as the blood stopped rushing through Bruce's ears, he heard Clark humming softly. He twisted in the embrace, and grumbled in disbelief, “Is that the song about the wrecking ball?”

“Well, we are swinging from a chain attached to the ceiling, and I just let you wre-e-eck me,” Clark grinned as he sang out the last two words.

“I'm pretty sure I'm the one that was wrecked, and someone needs a spanking to correct bad taste when I get out of these chains,” Bruce muttered. Clark just tipped his head to one side and raised a brow at him.

“I'm up for it, but your hand would hurt more than my ass.”

Bruce's lips pulled into a smirk, “There's ways to make you feel it.”

Clark shivered at the sensation of Bruce's softened cock slipping out of him along with some come, “Mmmmmhm. Has anyone ever ejaculated inside of you? It feels disgusting. And really hot,” he embraced Bruce tighter, “So, when can I take some more?”

“I'm neither young nor Kryptonian. Now bring me to my bedroom,” Bruce commanded as he wrapped his palms around Clark's ass.

“Bossy. Hey, when did you get out of the chains?” Clark asked, looking up with surprise, yelping when Bruce dug the claws of his gauntlets into invulnerable but over-sensitized skin, “Gosh okay, bedroom.”

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In case you aren't familiar with the song referenced at the end, it's Miley Cyrus's "Wrecking Ball."

Not the OP, but thank you for blessing us with your very first Superbat, anon! For something that starts out as such a perfect re-enactment of Bruce's nightmare, I feel a little weird about getting to the end and wanting to tell you how delightful/charming/adorable this is. :D BUT IT IS, ANON, it's so sweet and hot and how much do I love the ridiculous hoversex? SO MUCH. This is lovely - I'm so glad you chose to share it!

I feel like there are so many things I should be saying about this, and I'm failing you by not being able to come up with them, but I'm just TRANSFIXED by this, anon. Every single moment of this conversation, the dialogue and all the internal second-guessing Clark is doing, all the layers behind everything - TRANSFIXED. This is so amazing, and I can't even tell you how much I'm looking forward to more of this fill!

Bruce regularly has horrible nightmares that ruin his sleep. Clark can hear him tossing and turning and moaning all the way from Metropolis (he was just checking in on Bruce ;)) and wants to help him, somehow.

Bonus if he and Bruce aren't exactly friends yet (let alone more), so it's all really awkward and kind of antagonistic and Bruce is pissed off that Clark knows he sleeps badly and Clark is pissed off that Bruce doesn't want to accept any help.

Thank you! I used to write the most depressing things as a child, so I try to end things on a fun note these days if I write at all.

So, intrepid reporter Clark Kent has Bruce Wayne on record calling him 'son'. Something about the rough bass of Bruce voice really gets Clark going, especially when he's kind of pissed off. How many times does he rewind and replay that while he jerks off?

Or maybe he hooked up with Wayne at one gala or another, and got an audio of their encounter. Useless for an article writeup, but he sure as hell ain't gonna delete it.

Maybe later on they've established a regular thing, and when Clark's out of town on an assignment, Bruce calls to talk him through exactly what Clark should be doing to himself in low, rumbling tones.

Of course, Batman's voice is disguised with a modulator. But one night it malfunctions, and Clark would recognize that voice anywhere...

:D Haha, no worries, anon - while I didn't want to ignore Clark dying, I also wanted to portray him and Lois as having managed to get to a point where they can talk casually about it (and in a funny way, too). And yes, you can absolutely tell how much I love identity shenanigans. /o\ Even when there's no identity porn ... there's still identity porn! ~~Oops.~~ Thank you so much; it's a compliment in and of itself that you wanted to check back after reading the first couple parts, and I'm glad you did!

/o\ It's true, I'm having a little too much fun embarrassing him. :D Which I guess is me and my thing for identities again - everybody looks at Superman, he's prepared for that, but he's just so used to going unnoticed as Clark! ~~NOT ANYMORE~~ Haha, and don't worry, there'll be Bruce again in the part after this, I think.

So, yeah, this is definitely going to be longer than I thought. SURPRISE.

The thing is, it's actually the explanation that causes the fewest problems. It doesn't seem right to just tell Lois that Bruce is Batman—not without at least letting Bruce know about it before Clark does it, and of course Bruce knowing about it before Clark does it would lead to Bruce doing absolutely everything in his power to prevent it. They've just barely gotten to the point where Bruce actually seems reasonably comfortable working with Superman when he needs to. Clark's not eager to send them back to square one by exposing his secret identity without his permission, even if it's only to one person.

And Lois isn't just anybody. She knows as well as Cat does that there aren't any major Wayne stories in the Planet's pipeline—that if there were they'd probably go through Cat anyway, even if she did end up delegating some of the legwork to Clark.

And if the interview excuse won't hold water, and Clark can't tell her it's not exactly Bruce Wayne he's been spending time around—what's left? Somehow, inexplicably, he's genuinely ended up in a place where "Bruce Wayne's my secret boyfriend" is the answer that makes the most sense.

God help him.

He's almost managed to talk himself into accepting it by the time they get back to the office, helped along by a gentle reminder from Lois that he'd rather have people taking photos of him because they've realized he's dating Bruce than because they've realized he's Superman. Which is completely true, even if she's working from an inaccurate premise. It's not the brightest silver lining Clark's ever seen, but it's there, and it does make him feel a little steadier on his feet.

And then they get up to the bullpen, and Perry's standing next to Clark's desk.

"Kent! My office, now."

"Everything's going to be fine," Lois says sunnily, patting Clark on the shoulder, and then callously leaves him to his fate.

He follows Perry to his office with a grim sense of rising dread. He can't imagine what Perry wants—surely someone taking a photo of you touching Bruce Wayne a little too much can't actually qualify as any kind of professional misconduct? But if it's not about Bruce, then that means Clark's missing something, because he can't come up with any other reason why Perry would want to talk to him—

—with the door shut. Clark watches Perry close it behind him and can't help swallowing. That can't be good, can it?

"Sit down, sit down, quit looming at me."

"Yes, sir," Clark says quickly, and sits.

Perry leans against the edge of the desk instead of sitting down, too—which makes him the one who's looming, on the one hand, but also makes Clark feel less like he's just been called into the principal's office.

"Substantiating a claim is important to me, Kent," Perry begins, "professionally speaking. I like breaking stories; I don't like leaping to conclusions."

"Yes, sir," Clark agrees.

"That said, it's come to my attention that it may in fact be time to ask this. Are you involved with Bruce Wayne?"

For a second Clark can't do anything but stare at him. Has the entire world lost its mind? Is Clark having some kind of extremely extended nightmare? Why on earth would Perry care—

"Because if you are," Perry adds, "I need to make sure you aren't assigned to cover anything related to him. Or to Wayne Enterprises in general. Especially if you're going to go public, though frankly I'm inclined to do it either way, just to keep our noses clean. I like my house in order, Kent."

Oh.

"I, uh," Clark says, and then, with spotless honesty, "We haven't really talked about it, sir."

Perry stares at him for a moment, gimlet-eyed, and then relents with a sniff. "Let me be clear," he says briskly. "I don't care who you're dating, or how many buildings he's got named after him. I care whether you're going to walk all over our internal ethics standards, and I care about my deadlines. Speaking of which—"

Clark leaves Perry's office feeling mildly dazed, but also weirdly better. Perry hadn't pressed him, had accepted his completely noncommittal answer, was as matter-of-fact about the prospect of Clark dating Bruce as the prospect of Clark not dating Bruce. Lois was right about lunch, nobody had come up to him or taken a picture or even looked at him too long. Maybe it still might all just blow over, even if it takes a little longer than he'd hoped. Maybe he can get through this without even—without even mentioning it to Bruce, without it even mattering.

He manages to keep letting himself think that up until his walk home.

It's a little worse than lunchtime right off the bat: several different people visibly notice him on the way, and Clark can't help grimacing a little as he picks up the false shutter sound from somebody's phone across the street.

And that's actually why it happens—he focuses on the hearing for a moment, checking for any more of them, and that's just enough to let him catch the half-swallowed scream coming from a few blocks further away. He jerks toward it reflexively, and then catches himself before he can actually step into traffic; he'd be the only one who walked out of that intact. And he's got the suit on underneath his work clothes, but—but there are half a dozen people looking at him right now, a camera still pointed at him. He can't just superspeed away. He has to find an alley or something, has to step out of view—

It only takes him ten or fifteen extra seconds to get away from all the eyes on him, ducking around a corner and then zooming away. But that's enough time for the man who cried out to get stabbed in the struggle. The mugger didn't even mean to do it, Clark can tell that just by looking at him—but only once he gets there. Only once he wraps his hand around the knife blade, fifteen seconds too late.

The wound's not going to be fatal, but that's just luck. And Clark could handle the light mockery from Ron, Lois's sympathetic gaze—even the photographer, once he'd gotten a little perspective. But if this stupid gossipy thing makes it harder for Clark to be Superman? He's got to figure out how to make it go away.

Which means there's nothing else for it. He does need to talk to Bruce.

Ahh, i love that last part! It's so in character and would definitely be the thing to make Clark seek out Bruce.

:) Well, speaking as someone who's always gravitated toward happy endings - you did a lovely job with this one!

OP here, this is definitely more adorable than expected, but I enjoyed it a lot, very sweet and funny. :D Loved the hovering sex and Bruce getting out of the chains at the end, and the grumpy comment about being neither young nor Kryptonian. Thanks for filling this, anon! :)

Unffff, this is super hot. Seconded.

Anonnnn, I love you so much. Clark going along with the explanation that Bruce is his secret boyfriend to Lois, oh my god, I love it. <3 And ouch, oh no, poor Clark, of course the real problem starts when this whole thing interferes with what he has to do as Superman. :(

Which means there's nothing else for it. He does need to talk to Bruce.
Yessssssssssss, I can't wait, this is going to be so awkward and awesome. :D

Happy to please, and I'm glad it works for you.

Ever since that scene in BvS with the Batmobile spinning away after clipping Superman, I've wanted car!sex in there, on top of it, anything really, and the car getting demolished by their enthusiasm.

Ooh yes please let there be protective Ben!

Unf, oh my god, that is so hot. Clark basically ripping the car they're fucking in to pieces. :D

What it says on the tin. I just want Bruce to fuck the hell out of Clark, come in him, fuck him again, come over him, and make Clark as filthy as possible. Clark's always the perfect golden boy and I Bruce just wants to see him so messy...

Bonus if Bruce shows possessiveness in wanting to mark Clark as his in the messiest way possible!

ANOTHER BONUS if Bruce watches the come drip out of Clark and uses his fingers and tongue to push it back in ;DDD

Oh no, Clark! I already felt bad enough for him treading water in this bottomless pit of embarrassment but now things are getting serious. :(

I love the conversations he's having with Lois and with Perry, A+ awkward, would read more :D

Simultaneously smoking hot and adorable, a very welcome combination!

Clark calling Bruce 'bossy' and then being all 'gosh, okay' at the resultant groping = best :DDD

I hope you stick around and write us more lovely porn!

DCEU Prompt Post #1

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (3/?)

Re: FILL: "Twenty Questions", Bruce/Clark, breathplay, (2/?)

Re: Bruce/Clark, dubcon: Lex makes Clark fuck Batman in SvB instead of kill him

Fill: Wreck Me

Re: Fill: Wreck Me

Re: FILL: "Twenty Questions", Bruce/Clark, breathplay, (2/?)

Bruce/Clark, nightmares

Re: Fill: Wreck Me

Bruce/Clark, voice kink, phone sex

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (3/?)

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (3/?)

FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (4/?)

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (4/?)

Re: Fill: Wreck Me

Re: Fill: Wreck Me

Re: Bruce/Clark, voice kink, phone sex

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (4/?)

Re: Fill: Wreck Me

Bruce/Clark, carsex

Re: [RPF] Ben/Henry, Jared Leto oversteps boundaries

Re: Bruce/Clark, carsex

Bruce/Clark, come play

Re: Bruce/Clark, come play

Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (4/?)

Re: Fill: Wreck Me