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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 Eleven p2
(Anonymous) 2016-06-13 01:13 pm (UTC)(link)The bed is soft under his back, Bruce’s body hard above him, and Clark gasps as he feels, for the first time, the thick length of Bruce’s cock, brushing against his. He hasn’t… he’s kissed a man, that one time on the trawler. But that never went anywhere, was never even mentioned again. He has no idea what Bruce’s experience is, but he is, after all, Bruce Wayne, and Clark can easily imagine his adventures have included men.
“Um, Bruce?” he says, breaking away, and trying not to let the shiver that runs though him affect his voice. “I’ve never… I mean, of course I…”
Bruce looks down at him. “I know.”
Clark tries to figure out what exactly that is supposed to convey, but in the end never does – before he can think, Bruce’s hand has slipped below the waistband of his sweats and curled around his cock, his thumb sliding lightly over the head. Clark feels his back arch, his ribs protesting mightily, as a strangled moan forces its way past his lips. This is… this nothing like anything he has felt before. Hot fire burns its way through the network of his veins, spots appears in front of his eyes, and he bites down on his lip to stop himself from making another embarrassing and embarrassingly loud noise.
“Tell me.” Bruce’s voice is soft in his ear. “Tell me how you want this.”
Clark can’t even think straight enough to give him an answer – not with Bruce’s hand keeping up with its slow, steady strokes up and down his cock, hand winding slightly around him. Everything in the movement speaks to Bruce’s expertise in this area – really, it just not fair. How can he be expected to carry on a conversation like this?
“I – I don’t –”
Bruce’s hand makes a sudden twist, and Clark arches up again, crying out.
“Y-you’re doing that on purp-purpose,” he eventually manages to get out, feeling sweat prickle over him.
“Possibly.”
It’s okay, though, Clark decides – if Bruce is being playful then he’s not being cold, and if he were being cold, Clark isn’t sure he could stand it.
“I don’t know,” Clark says helplessly as another shudder wracks through him. “I just –”
Bruce leans down and kisses him, cutting off his words. Clark can hear him groping in a drawer, urgent and a little desperate.
Clark runs his hands over Bruce’s body, looking down at it when Bruce breaks the kiss. He’s not even sure where he should put them, at the moment – he settles for sliding the tips of his fingers over the raised hatches that run down Bruce’s side, before turning into a long, cruel slice of white scar tissue on his abdomen. Bruce shivers lightly under his touch, and Clark, encouraged, runs his hand up to the pale circle of his nipple, catching it between two fingers.
Bruce jerks a little, sucking in a quick breath, and Clark looks up to see him watching him, his eyes unreadable.
“Do you trust me?” Bruce asks, voice low.
Clark frowns. “What? Of course I do.”
He doesn’t have to hesitate over the answer. But Bruce says nothing in return; instead, his hand is back on Clark’s dick, and Clark suddenly finds he doesn’t have room in his head to wonder what he meant anymore. There’s nothing he can do but let his head fall back on the pillow, curling his fingers in the sheets, mouth dropping open as his eyes squeeze shut.
He can feel his muscles cording against his skin, bright spots of pain where it pulls against the wound in his neck, the scrapes on his chest. Clark bites down on his lip, feeling the tang of blood on his tongue – something else new, something else he knows he’ll have to hang onto, because he doesn’t know if he’ll feel it again.
Somewhere above him he can feel Bruce moving himself above Clark, easing his sweats over his hips and down his legs. Bruce’s skin is warm against his, sliding against his, his hand never stopping. He seems to read Clark like a book, knowing when to slow before he slips over the edge and drawing him back.
He can’t hold back when he feels Bruce’s fingers – slick with lube, he realises, and finally figures out what Bruce was scrabbling around in the drawer for – press against him. Clark tries to breathe through it but finds his breath hitching, spine arcing every time Bruce sinks them in deeper.
“Oh, God, Bruce,” Clark hears himself say. He doesn’t even know what’s happening to him anymore, and when Bruce’s fingers are replaced by the blunt, straining head of his cock, Clark can’t do anything but cry out, digging his fingers into the hard muscle of Bruce’s back. Fire coils its way up his spine, licking at the base of his skull as Bruce moves within him, his movements small and, Clark thinks, almost gentle.
“I’m not going to break, Bruce,” he manages to gasp out, opening his eyes to find Bruce’s face above his, eyes heavy-lidded, his lips drawn back slightly over his teeth. “You can… I mean, you can –”
“Fuck you?” Bruce asks, punctuating the question with a sharp push of his hips that has Clark seeing stars, both from pleasure that spirals through him and the spike of pain in his ribs.
“Y-Yes,” he says, the word slipping out from between his lips.
He feels Bruce pulse inside him, once, heavily, before he moves his hips again, sheathing himself fully. Clark feels his eyes rolling back in his head, trembling a little, breath hitching, his fingertips digging into Bruce’s shoulder blades.
His lips are parted, and Bruce catches them with his own, tongue darting into his mouth as he draws back slightly before pushing forward again, his movement between Clark’s thighs controlled and steady. Clark can feel the muscles of his thighs against his calf, the way they strain against his skin every time he moves forward. He’s trying desperately to pull all these details together, to keep them in his mind, but he finds it increasingly difficult as things spin away from him, as his mind becomes increasingly clouded.
He needs this – he needs to remember. Every small detail, every catch of his skin, every gasp of breath, every slight spike of pain and thrill of pleasure. Ordinarily he can fly from Metropolis to pretty much anywhere else in the world without needing to break a sweat or pause for breath, but now, with Bruce buried inside him, forcing Clark’s body open around him, he can do nothing but pant for oxygen and feel sweat slide over his skin, his body desperate and on the edge.
And he has missed this. Even if these sensations are new, this… closeness isn’t. He has missed so badly this connection – sex, for him, had never been just about the physical sensations, but the feeling of closeness, the warmth, the touches. And God, he has missed this.
He clenches himself around Bruce, as if to keep him where he is, or to draw him deeper, or just to tell him don’t stop, and he hears Bruce’s rasping groan in response, the slight stutter of his hips. Clark can hear the rising throb of his heartbeat in his ears, and realises that at this point he can do very little but hold on, his fingers stroking up Bruce’s back, feeling the slight ridges of his spine, the slip of sweat on his skin.
Light begins to blossom behind his eyes, and the insistent heat of orgasm gathers in his groin, making him curl his toes and clench his fists. He has almost given himself over to it, allowed himself to let go and fall over the edge when he feels Bruce’s hand again wrap itself around his cock. Clark arches up with a shout, squirming beneath his body, nerves crackling with both pain and pleasure.
And then, Bruce pulls back slightly, drawing him down again, reading him once again and denying him what he is so clearly desperate for.
“Please,” Clark whispers, opening his eyes a crack and looking into Bruce’s face. “Please, let me – ”
Bruce moves again, and Clark feels his eyes roll back in his head as Bruce’s hand fists over the length of his hard cock. A pulse of white-hot pleasure drives through him, and he hears himself crying out, every muscle in his body as taut as a line, filled with everything and nothing at all.
He knows he is clutching Bruce harder than he should – hard enough that if he had his powers now, Bruce would be in need of some serious reconstructive surgery – but he cannot make himself let go as listens to his heartbeat descending in his ears, his breath gradually slowing, his sweat mingling with Bruce’s where their chests lie against each other.
Clark swallows, feeling the puff of Bruce’s breath against his collarbone, and shifts a little on the mattress. Bruce is heavy, but he cannot bring himself to care. He want to hold onto this as long as he can, before Bruce can find away to change shape again and slide away from him.
Except he won’t, this time, Clark tells himself. As if holding Bruce’s body will somehow hold his mind, even though he, of all people, knows this is nowhere near the truth.
But still, he can’t make himself let go.
Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Eleven p2
(Anonymous) 2016-06-13 05:02 pm (UTC)(link)Hnng, Clark just being out of his mind with lust and not quite knowing what to do with himself so he just lets Bruce take him but still trying to fix every detail in his head, oh my god. Telling Bruce he's not gonna break and then that little flash of dirty talk, yowza. And then and THEN Bruce not letting Clark come right away, SO HOT.
And sweaty cuddles to top it off. A++
I'm so glad they finally figured it all out so you could bestow this smoking scene upon us! <3<3 :D
Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Eleven p2
(Anonymous) 2016-06-14 12:05 am (UTC)(link)I always have a bit of a HOW MUCH IS TOO MUCH? quandary when writing these things, and so I am very glad to know this worked out XDDDDD
Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Eleven p2
(Anonymous) 2016-06-14 02:56 am (UTC)(link)Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Eleven p2
(Anonymous) 2016-06-14 03:26 am (UTC)(link)Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Eleven p2
(Anonymous) 2016-06-15 02:12 pm (UTC)(link)to hold onto this as long as he can, before Bruce can find a way to change shape again and slide away from him
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh oh god, this is SUCH A PERFECT WAY TO SAY THIS and I CAN'T. /o\ This transmogrifies everything from not just super hot to the ultimate soul-destroying combination of super hot PLUS FEELINGS, and I would thank you for it except, as you may recall, I'M DEAD NOW.
(And no worries about a wait before the next part, anon! Like Superman, I will need a little time to recover and dig my way out of my grave anyway.)
Re: Bruce/Clark, depowered!Clark is the biggest damsel in distress - Part Eleven p2
(Anonymous) 2016-06-16 04:32 am (UTC)(link)Thank you so much again XDDDD