dceu_kinkmeme | DCEU Prompt Post #1

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DCEU Prompt Post #1

Welcome to Round One of the DCEU Kink Meme!

Please have a look at the extended rules here.

The important rules in short:

Post anonymously.
Negative comments on other people's prompts (kink-shaming, pairing-bashing etc.) and personal attacks of any kind will not be tolerated.
One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
Prompts should follow the format: Character/character, prompt.
Keep prompts to a reasonable length; prompts should not be detailed story outlines.
No prompt spamming.

Please direct any questions to the Ask a mod post. For inspiration: list of kinks .

Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun! Please link to your fills on the fill post.

Here's the discussion post for all your non-prompt/fill needs.

We now have a non-DCEU prompt post for any prompts in other 'verses (comics, animated series, other movies or TV shows etc.).

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Warning for non-con and torture.

Lex (after escaping from prison) manages to capture Clark, keeping him weak and helpless with kryptonite, and decides to take his revenge on him and let out all his pent-up hatred - torturing Clark, carving his skin up, raping him, humiliating him, making him beg to be raped/tortured so Lex won't hurt innocents instead ...

He covered his tracks well, so it takes Bruce a few weeks or so to track him down and rescue Clark. And then Bruce is left with a traumatised, abused, messed up Clark to take care of. Cue Bruce being caring in the gruffest possible way, stern and strict, but also with the world's biggest paternal streak when he thinks nobody's watching. Eventual Bruce/Clark would be great (though I'd prefer if it was as a result of a developing relationship and Clark already feeling a bit better, and not magical healing cock that immediately makes all of Clark's issues go away).

This prompt got long, sorry, focus on whatever part of it you like, though I'd prefer a hopeful ending (but feel free to go really dark before that).

Great prompt. Love protective!Bruce. Really hope it gets filled!

So...even though it isn't brought up in BvS, I'm sure Clark still carries in his body the codex that contains DNA of thousand of Kryptonians, right? And there has been rumours about how Darkseid will try to resurrect Clark and gets him to his side in JL. What if he considers Clark the key to give him an entire army of Kryptonians? I mean I literally sat through MoS wondering why did they waste time and energy trying to extract the codex from Clark when they could just...impregnant him? Because an alien race doesn't have to follow human's biology, really (but then it'd be scandalous so let's just keep that in fanfiction route)

So my point is I'd love to see a story in which the Leagues trying to save Clark from Darkseid before his plan can proceed further. Maybe Clark has already given birth once or twice, and he begs them to save his babies too but they can't. Darkseid has taken them all away from Clark as soon as they are born. The Leagues save Clark, but he's not whole anymore. And Bruce has to help him heal. It takes time but slowly romance blossoms between them. But even when they've got together for a while and maybe even married, Clark still tries to avoid everytime the subject of children being brought up. He wants to have a child with Bruce but at the same time he still has nightmares about the children he didn't get to save. How the story progresses from here can be your choice. I just want some pregnant Clark in my life.

I can't believe this hasn't already been requested lol because it's the first thing my twisted mind thought of while watching that scene of Superman kneeling in front of Lex.

So anyway: Lex threatens to kill Martha unless Clark fucks Batman as a power-play thing. And Bruce agrees to let Clark fuck him because there's an innocent person at risk but he doesn't want it at all and pretty much hates every second of it while it's happening.

The plot isn't important - just gimmie some dirtybadwrong Bruce/Clark dubcon sex

Bruce wearing kryptonite-lined leather gloves for kink purposes. Because they weaken Clark to the point where he can feel pain and can't fight back all that easily, but there's still little enough kryptonite that it doesn't just make him writhe in pain.

Bruce could choke him with his gloved hands, hold him down, finger him, fist him, all of those things ... and Clark loves every second of it.

OMFG I love this idea so much.

+1!!!!!!

Diana teaches Clark the delights of doing it the Greek way, and they both enjoy it a lot.

With Diana receiving, please. No strap-ons.

Clark obviously has super strength and speed, but he's never really learnt how to fight, which puts him at a disadvantage when facing off against any being as strong as him that also has actual fighting skills. So Bruce offers to teach him/Clark suggests Bruce teach him. Cue sweaty sparring during which Clark is not allowed to use his super strength and speed and Bruce probably kicks his ass a lot while teaching him. All of which leads to sweaty fight sex.

So I actually filled this over on the LJ meme before I found the dw meme, and oh, look you already have a fill! Now you have two :) Hope you enjoy this one, too, though it's not as long, lol.

***

Bruce knows as soon as he looks into Clark's eyes what he's come to the cave for.

*

Sometimes, Clark’s tired of being the last one standing.

Sometimes, Clark just needs someone to make him fall to his knees, make him scream and cry and beg.

Sometimes, Clark just needs to bleed.

*

Bruce takes Clark’s hand, leads him deep into the cave – to the room he designed and built for nights like these.

“It’s okay,” he says to Clark, kissing him softly (the last soft thing that will happen to Clark for hours) as he flicks on the red solar lights.

*

Clark’s ready to shake out of his skin, but as his powers start to eb away – as Bruce’s hits get harder and harder and his own blood flows from his split lip and torn eye – the shaking stops.

Clark tries to hit back, but like this, so human, so weak, Bruce dodges him easily, always dancing just out of reach.

*

Bruce straddles Clark, a god reduced to a man trying to breathe around shattered ribs and a punctured lung.

Almost.

Clark was almost there.

Bruce pulls his fist back.

***

End

SA, here - have some aftercare.

***

When it’s finished, when Clark’s been sufficiently unmade for the night – Bruce carries him to the adjoining room. The red solar lights are still on, but they’re dimmed here and they’ll get dimmer as the night goes on.

The whole point was for this to take time.

For Clark to heal slowly.

In the red light, Bruce tends carefully to the wounds – wipes away the blood carefully, methodically stitches the gashes closed and wraps broken ribs.

Then he stands and checks the timers on the lights, makes sure the increments matched what Clark needed – then he goes back over to Clark, puts Clark’s head in his lap, and waits for him to wake up.

**

Clark wakes with a gasp and a flinch, and immediately he feels Bruce leaning over him, his hands gently touching Clark’s face.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

They’re the same words he says every time – and every time, they’re just as soothing, just as reassuring.

***

End.

Bruce hits the mattress hard enough to bounce, the impact driving the air out of his lungs. Somewhere between punchbag and bed he’s lost his clothes and Clark looms over him, startling blue eyes bright and intent, both hands pressing Bruce’s shoulders against the sheets. Bruce feels himself tense instinctively. His heart pounds with a rush of adrenaline as though he’s in danger.

(There are some things he can never get separated out quite right.)

Clark raises his eyebrows in a silent question. Bruce realises he can sense his elevated pulse--can probably hear it--and his throat tightens with something raw, momentarily overwhelmed by how attuned Clark is to him. It's a level of intimacy that steps beyond sex, and riding on that, a reminder that Clark exists outside of Bruce’s mortal sphere, that he’s not just another man like Bruce is.

It's easy to forget that, when he can brace his feet and use the strength in his thighs to turn Clark over, and Clark will pretend for him, just rolls with it and drops onto his back obediently.

Bruce straddles him, draws his hand over Clark’s chest and tries to get his head straight again, to get back down to the physicality of it. Instead he wonders if Clark can hear his bones knit and his bruises heal, or if he can tell that the joints of his fingers have started aching on wet days. He is not a man who scares easily, so he doesn’t know why that’s so terrifying to him.

Then Clark nudges his hips upward in a brash, unsubtle reminder that’s he’s turned on, and that it’s entirely Bruce’s fault. “In your own time, old man,” he says, grinning. “Unless you’re having more fun daydreaming.” He scuffs Bruce’s chin with his thumb, nail rasping across his stubble.

The dawn is breaking, early sun turning the lake’s surface to light. Bruce dips his head, lets himself smile a little. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That was rude.”

“An apology from Bruce Wayne. Maybe I’m the one dreaming.”

Bruce rolls his eyes.

“Could I get it in writing? I want to frame it and put it on my desk.”

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you, Kent.”

Clark laughs, runs the palm of his hand over Bruce’s hip. “That I do. But. Bruce, I know you’re a guy who likes to keep his secrets--and I understand that, how could I not--but if there’s ever something you need to get off your chest, I’m also a good listener.”

Bruce thinks about the vibration of his heartbeat, the grind of his bones, the ragged cut of his breath, speared on a nightmare. The sound pearls make striking a sidewalk. The sound a hero makes hitting the ground.

“I’m actually a real huge fan of not talking,” Bruce says. “When I should be screwing.”

“Then what’s the big delay?” Clark asks, and tosses him a bottle of lube. Bruce catches it one-handed, slicks up his fingers and refuses to break eye contact while he works himself open and works himself down, taking Clark inside with the same kind of determination he approaches everything else.

Bruce rides him slow, works hard to feel the sweat break over his shoulders and forehead and the exertion pull at the muscles in his thighs and calves. He is mostly soft, still recovering from their gym session, but it doesn't diminish the pleasure he takes in this. Less of a distraction, if anything.

One of Clark’s hand settles on gripping the inside of his thigh, the other rude against his chest, tracing the gnarl of an old scar and then brushing over his nipple. The bright dart of sensation makes Bruce falter in his rhythm, and he grabs Clark’s hand away so he can’t do it again. He takes his other hand, too, before he can get any clever ideas, and pins his wrists above his head.

Clark grins up at him; he could break free as easy as breathing, but instead he wets his lips and groans and takes advantage of Bruce leaning over to gather some leverage. He thrusts hard enough to drive Bruce’s forehead against his shoulder, takes control of the pace and makes Bruce work to keep his balance.

Bruce’s stubbled cheek rasps against Clark’s collarbone and his breath is humid in the crook of his shoulder. He gets a little lost in it and doesn’t remember when Clark got his hands free, but his palm is cupped at the nape of Bruce’s neck, the other in the small of his back, holding Bruce steady as he grinds down on his cock.

All he can hear is the rattle of the bedframe, his own panting and Clark murmuring, “Good, you’re so good, Bruce.” He wants to tell him how much that isn’t true, but he can feel himself starting to come, still only half-hard and trapped between them, a shuddering orgasm that runs deeper and longer than his earlier release.

It’s still not enough.

“Good,” Clark says again. He slips out and maneuvers them so he’s pressed to Bruce’s back, still hard and hot against Bruce’s skin but obviously willing to settle in for the morning. Bruce feels him kiss his shoulder.

“‘M not done yet,” Bruce tells him, pushing off the deceptive haze that’s telling him to sleep. If it’s a soft and comfortable descent, then nightmares are sure to follow. He needs to keep going until he technically passes out. “And neither are you.”

*

Yeah, in retrospect that's a little on the nose, ahaha. IM SORRY BRUCE.

Thank you! I am just getting a handle on things, so I'm glad it's not like, "who are these people??"

Aw yaaay! I'm glad you're enjoying it OP, my first-fic-in-this-fandom nerves are soothed. <3

p.s. sorry for being slow, will try and get things moving at a sexier pace.

WANT

I love this prompt a lot.

Consider this an enthusiastic +3, OP: AWESOME PROMPT. So awesome I read it and then touched my keyboard and this fell out. \o?

They fuck like they hate each other.

They don't. They've known each other too long, fought side-by-side too often. Clark may not like Batman's methods, but he respects Bruce's ethics, Bruce's place in the Justice League. And Bruce may keep an encrypted drive full of plans for how to neutralize a mind-controlled or brainwashed Superman, but he understands the value of Clark's abilities, can't argue that it has ever been overstated.

Yes, Bruce was suspicious when Clark rose from the dead without a scratch on him. Sure, Clark didn't exactly think fondly of a man he hazily remembered setting traps for him with lasers, explosives, projectiles. But there are worse things out there than Lex Luthor, worse things than a re-embodied General Zod, and Clark and Bruce both understand that. They're perfectly capable of working together, and even being civil while they do it.

But they fuck like they hate each other.

Clark hardly leaves bruises, never breaks anything. (Well, except furniture, sometimes. But never any part of Bruce.) And Bruce never makes it so he can't—never pulls out the last couple Kryptonite shells he's got locked up behind lead.

And it isn't—they fuck angrily, a little roughly, but people who love each other do that sometimes, too. It's not about the pace they set or the grip they use.

It's about how they don't look at each other. They don't touch each other longer than they have to. Clark digs his fingers into the backs of Bruce's thighs to hold him up, or wraps a hand around the back of Bruce's neck to keep him driving in at the right angle—and then they're done, and he lets go. Bruce hooks his legs over Clark's shoulders because that's the best place to put them at the time; he grips Clark's wrists so Clark knows to hold them still; that's all.

They don't look at each other, they don't touch each other longer than they have to, and they definitely don't talk about it.

And if they wanted to do it differently, they would.

(Clark tries once. He keeps the pace hard, the way he's pretty sure Bruce likes it, but not quite so fast, a little less utilitarian. He puts his hand over Bruce's fingers where they're wrapped around the edge of the headboard—not to pry them off, not to move Bruce's hand anywhere. Just because he wants to put it there.

Nothing about Bruce changes. Bruce doesn't look at him, doesn't make a sound. He doesn't even ask Clark what the hell he thinks he's doing. It's weird to think Bruce didn't notice—it's Bruce—but maybe he didn't. Maybe he was distracted, or tired. Maybe—

Maybe he just doesn't pay that much attention to what Clark does.

If he did notice, he'd hate it anyway. So Clark doesn't try again.)

(Bruce doesn't try at all.

Wanting things where people can see you tells them where you're vulnerable. It's already heinously, unacceptably obvious of him to sleep with Clark—to sleep with Superman, to let someone who could kill him in a single moment of distraction wrap themselves around his unarmored body and touch him wherever they like. That error has already been made, irrevocably so, but at the very least he will not allow himself to compound it.

It's a good thing that Clark is so widely considered astoundingly handsome, that there are so many things only Clark is physically capable of. There are acceptable explanations for Bruce's persistent inability to not fuck him every time the opportunity arises.

Bruce does this the only reasonable way there is to do this. And Clark—

Clark is Superman; Clark can only be coerced into action under extremely specific circumstances.

If Clark wanted to do it differently, he would.)

OP here, so excited this is getting filled. :D dsfbsidfds I love it. The whole theme of fucking like they hate each other, not touching more than necessary, not looking at each other, god, I can so see that. And fuuuuuuuuck, my heart broke a little at the bit about Clark trying for more and Bruce ignoring it, ouch. Your Bruce characterisation is absolutely wonderful, especially this bit:
Wanting things where people can see you tells them where you're vulnerable. It's already heinously, unacceptably obvious of him to sleep with Clark—to sleep with Superman, to let someone who could kill him in a single moment of distraction wrap themselves around his unarmored body and touch him wherever they like. That error has already been made, irrevocably so, but at the very least he will not allow himself to compound it.

I can't wait for the next parts, you broke my heart a bit here, it needs to be put back together. ;) Thanks for writing this fill! :D

Yesssssss, more porn! And porn with so much awesome stuff going on! Love this line here: his throat tightens with something raw, momentarily overwhelmed by how attuned Clark is to him. Bruce being scared of intimacy and closeness is always great (and of course he can't stop thinking and wondering and worrying, which is why he clearly needs to get fucked into oblivion).

I love your cheeky, but still sweet Clark. Bruce riding him and being all determined and trying to wear himself out (and almost enjoying it more while he's still soft) is so fucking hot. And then all of this:

Bruce’s stubbled cheek rasps against Clark’s collarbone and his breath is humid in the crook of his shoulder. He gets a little lost in it and doesn’t remember when Clark got his hands free, but his palm is cupped at the nape of Bruce’s neck, the other in the small of his back, holding Bruce steady as he grinds down on his cock.

All he can hear is the rattle of the bedframe, his own panting and Clark murmuring, “Good, you’re so good, Bruce.” He wants to tell him how much that isn’t true, but he can feel himself starting to come, still only half-hard and trapped between them, a shuddering orgasm that runs deeper and longer than his earlier release.
IDFGJODHGDGFKJDBJD I HAVE NO WORDS FOR HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS. And determined Bruce demanding more, fuck yeah. This fill is awesome, anon author. :D

Oh, this is cool. I love the idea with the red solar lights, and how rough Bruce gets with him, and that he only lets Clark heal slowly. And Bruce patching Clark up is great.

Very straightforward, but I need Clark chaining Bruce up. Maybe Bruce wants to re-enact his nightmare in a more pleasant way.

Maybe they fuck at that gala or out in the rain or after Supes rips the door off the batmobile.

We all know Bruce has a bit of a paternal side, and he's older than Clark in this verse, so whenever Clark is insecure about anything, Bruce's paternal urges come through. I blame the scene in which he calls Clark "son" (and I'm all for that appearing in porn). Maybe they're doing something in bed Clark has never done before and Bruce talks him through it?

Doesn't have to be full blown daddy kink, but that is fine, too.

(I know someone already filled this on the old kinkmeme and I loved that fill, but I'm greedy and still want more. ;))

Slight canon divergence in which Clark doesn't know who Batman is - and for some reason hooks up with Bruce Wayne. Not flirty playboy Bruce Wayne the way he was at 30, but bitter, world-weary, empty inside Bruce Wayne who occasionally bangs/gets banged by hot men to distract himself from how lonely he is.

Would prefer if this was somehow set post-canon, after Clark's return to life, rather than right at their first canon meeting.

Basically I want all the identity porn and related angst. :D

Bruce fisting Clark (because Affleck has such gloriously big hands). With or without those Batsuit leather gloves.

Bruce makes Clark bleed (again). And then plays with his blood/licks it off his skin/kisses him with bloody lips. Clark loves it.

He might also return the favour and make Bruce bleed.

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Page 3 of 99

DCEU Prompt Post #1

Clark/Lex, Bruce/Clark, post-rape hurt/comfort

Re: Clark/Lex, Bruce/Clark, post-rape hurt/comfort

Bruce/Clark. Mpreg

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

Bruce/Clark, kryptonite-lined leather gloves

Re: Bruce/Clark, immersion sex therapy for Clark's new fear of the dark

Clark/Diana - anal sex

Bruce/Clark, sparring

[MINI-FILL] Bruce/Clark, pain kink, alternating POVs

[MINI-FILL 2/2] Bruce/Clark, pain kink, alternating POVs, +aftercare

Fill: Fatigue is the Best Pillow (2/?)

Re: Fill: Fatigue is the Best Pillow (1/?)

Re: Fill: Fatigue is the Best Pillow (1/?)

Re: Bruce/Clark, first time they're tender

Re: Bruce/Clark, first time they're tender

FILL: in my head the unsaid words; Bruce/Clark, first time they're tender (1/3ish?)

Re: FILL: in my head the unsaid words; Bruce/Clark, first time they're tender (1/3ish?)

Re: Fill: Fatigue is the Best Pillow (2/?)

Re: [MINI-FILL 2/2] Bruce/Clark, pain kink, alternating POVs, +aftercare

Bruce/Clark, chains

Bruce/Clark, rough hatesex

Bruce/Clark, age difference, paternal!Bruce

Bruce/Clark, identity porn

Bruce/Clark, fisting

Bruce/Clark, bloodplay