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dceu_kinkmeme2016-04-14 12:37 am
dceu_kinkmod) wrote in dceu_kinkmeme2016-04-14 12:37 am
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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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Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Seven
(Anonymous) 2016-05-31 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)---------------------
The first thing Clark is aware of when he drifts up from the depths of sleep is warmth. It settles into his muscles, layers itself over his sore ribs, making him feel safe and drowsy.
Still only half-awake, he swallows, the scurf of his dream still clinging to his mind. It’s already starting to slip away, but Clark can recall the phantom sensation of hands on his skin, the soft wetness of lips on his, and the sweet, dull ache of –
Clark jerks awake suddenly, opening his eyes and staring around wildly. He’s not anywhere he recognises, though after a moment in which his heart pounds in his chest, he realises he’s looking out over the lake in the very early morning. White mist is rising, the sunlight weak and milky as it struggles out from between the clouds.
He’s not in the lounge though – while this room is just as clean and sparse and sterile, he’s sitting at a different angle, there’s clean sheets pulled up to his waist, and pillows keeping him propped up, and…
Oh.
He’s in a bed. Clark blinks. He wishes he could get the hang of this whole ‘waking up’ thing. It’s been weeks, after all, and it shouldn’t still freak him out this badly. It doesn’t help that he can remember very little of the evening before. Everything is hazy. It’s like pushing blocks of smoke around in his head as he tries to recall it.
Even without that, it’s strange to so suddenly go from one state to another, with no control over it. When he slept before, it was because he chose to, and he woke up on command. This sudden jerking awake, the not knowing for a moment if this is real or whether he’s still dreaming, if the warmth and the hands on his skin were real, or…
Clark shifts uncomfortably on the bed.
… And the fact that his body still feels the after effects of things he now knows weren’t really happening. He glances down, swallowing. The sheets are tenting around his erection, his blood feeling thick and heavy. Drawing in a deep breath, he wonders if he can sneak into the bathroom before Bruce realises he’s awake and just –
“Sleep well?”
Clark jerks around, jarring his ribs, the pain slicing through him, which at least serves to take some of the pressure out of his cock. He sits rigidly on the bed as his eyes finally find Bruce, sitting in a large wingback chair in a corner of the room, still in his suit pants and shirt.
“Uh,” is all he can muster up to say at first.
Bruce is lounging back in the chair, looking rumpled, his eyes trained on Clark’s face.
Clark is digging is fingertips into the mattress so hard he’s pretty sure he’s making permanent dents in it.
Maybe he hasn’t noticed. Maybe he… uh… I mean, I’m sure he hasn’t noticed…
Clark licks his lips. “Pretty well,” he says, and he knows his voice sounds a little strained.
Bruce is just staring him directly in the face, eyes looking neither down nor up nor side to side.
“Um, how long have you been sitting there?” Clark finally asks.
Bruce doesn’t answer. Not immediately, anyway. He just keeps on looking at Clark.
“I mean, you didn’t sleep there did you?” Clark asks. “Because I –”
“No,” Bruce interrupts. “I did not sleep here.”
Clark’s mind spins as he tries to figure out the implications of that statement. Between the shock and the fact his cock still doesn’t seem to be going down and the horror of realising Bruce has been sitting there while he – while he –
A shard of memory from the night before suddenly pierces his consciousness. Clark can feel heat rushing into his face.
He can recall sitting in a bath, watching the water lapping over his toes, snorting awake suddenly as his nose began to sink below the waterline. He can recall murmuring some nonsense as strong hands pull him up out of the bath, the scrub of a towel over his skin as he leans against a broad shoulder, and then – Oh God…
Clark’s mind races without a single coherent thought. “Bruce, I –”
Bruce cuts him off by standing, before turning away and looking out over the lake. “I flushed the rest of the Percocet down the toilet, before you ask,” he says, his voice low. “And there’s bacon for breakfast.”
***
Clark keeps his eyes fixed down at his plate as he eats. He hasn’t spoken – breakfast was already on the plate when he came out, and Bruce has spent the entire time reading first the Gotham Gazette, before turning his attention to the Gotham Globe.
It’s the most awkward situation Clark has ever been in.
He just wishes he could remember more about what happened yesterday – he recalled that after days of being cooped up inside, the sunshine on the lake had looked so beautiful that he just couldn’t resist going out in it. The trees that surrounded Bruce’s home had revealed a small path that wound through them once he got closer, and after that, he’d kept walking, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin, and knowing that it was only warmth.
It had been… strange. Good.
But when he’d finally arrived back at the lakehouse, his ribs had been killing him. He’d decided he wouldn’t take one of the painkillers Jimmy had given him, but then, he didn’t want to put Bruce to any trouble, and he’d know he was in pain the second he looked at him….
And it was after that that things got murky.
Bruce rustles the newspaper as he turns the page, flicking it so it stands upright, covering his face.
Clark thinks he’d give an awful lot to have his x-ray vision back right now, if only so he could see Bruce’s expression.
It’s not really in his nature not to talk about things – or not, at least, to try. But in this, he’s not sure he even has the words to begin. Bruce might be the world’s greatest detective, but you don’t need to be even a pretty good detective to figure out what happened last night. Bruce had pulled him out of the bath when he’d fallen asleep in it, dried him off, and put him to bed. In, what Clark can only assume, was his bed. He doesn’t think this place, for all its size, even has a guest room (which, he supposes, is a pretty good excuse for Bruce to never have guests here).
Clark swallows, before lifting another forkful of bacon and toast to his mouth. He could talk about this with Bruce, he supposes. He could force Bruce to say something about it, or to brush off his actions with a curl of his lip and a sarcastic comment.
But he won’t do that. He’s not that cruel.
It’s just one of the things that being dead for months will do for you – even more so the weeks afterwards, when you realise that you’ll have to rebuild yourself from scratch, after the rest of the world had stopped thinking about you. Or at least, they’d stopped thinking about Clark Kent, even as they built monuments to Superman and covered them in flowers.
This hasn't been the greatest time in Clark’s life. There’s so many things he misses, and which he doesn’t feel like he’ll get back – not easily, anyway. There are lots of things that slip away when he wakes up, and things that he won’t even admit to himself that he wants to get back.
Clark closes his eyes briefly. For a moment, he imagines he can feel that same warmth on his skin – the brief touch of hands, lips, anything at all.
“Finished?” Bruce asks, abruptly asks, laying aside the newspaper.
Clark jerks his head up. He hasn’t, but he’s not hungry. “Yeah.”
“Good. Then I figure we can head out.”
Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Seven
(Anonymous) 2016-05-31 07:36 pm (UTC)(link)And come on, Bruce, startling the guy with the bruised ribs is just mean. ;)
Maybe he hasn’t noticed. Maybe he… uh… I mean, I’m sure he hasn’t noticed…
Poor, poor Clark. As if Bruce didn't notice everything. ;) And aww, Bruce saving confused Clark from drowning. Definitely not too mood whiplash-y, anon, it's not like you really made us think that Clark was going to die.
He’d decided he wouldn’t take one of the painkillers Jimmy had given him, but then, he didn’t want to put Bruce to any trouble, and he’d know he was in pain the second he looked at him….
I love Clark taking the painkillers because he didn't want to inconvenience Bruce. Oh Clark, you sweetheart. Poor Clark. I feel so sorry for him right now, I hope nice things are going to happen to him soon. And if not, I'll gladly eat up more angst, too. You're awesome, damsel!Clark anon. :DDD
Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Seven
(Anonymous) 2016-05-31 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)Thank you so much, I am SO glad you're enjoying this still XDDDD I think I'm going to put Clark through the wringer just one more time, but then, well, we'll see XDD
Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Seven
(Anonymous) 2016-05-31 10:15 pm (UTC)(link)(And I want to pat Clark on the head - oh, honey, trust me, no matter how much practice you have, waking up never gets easier. /o\)
This is so excellent, anon, I'm falling all over myself for poor embarrassed/helplessly aroused Clark, and Bruce splitting hairs (yeah, you didn't sleep there because you DIDN'T SLEEP, Bruce, GOD), and oh, Clark's blurry memories of the bath! :D And Bruce so studiously reading the paper while Clark tries to figure out what to do - perfection. AND THEN SUDDENLY FEELINGS. /o\ WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME.
I can't claim I'm not sad to think this'll be ending in a few more parts, anon, but I'm so delighted to see where it's going to go and so glad you're sharing it with us. :D THANK YOU.
Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Seven
(Anonymous) 2016-05-31 11:44 pm (UTC)(link)Haha, welp, I think Clark is going to have to have one last peril, and, Bruce is going to have to think p seriously about things, AND THEN... XD
Thanks again :D