#outboard asks

AHHHAHAH TYSM ANON i am glad u enjoyed 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

as for seeing more......

PART ONE | PART TWO

"you're sure this is all right," bruce repeats for the umpteenth time.

clark reminds himself not to let his impatience show. he wants this—wants it so bad he's practically trembling for it, but bruce is still hesitant, and clark can't fault him.

it's been two days since clark watched bruce lap at his blood, and clark cannot get the image of bruce's tongue and teeth stained red out of his mind. he also knows for a fact that bruce hasn't fed since then, can smell the desperation on him, the way his scent angles just slightly off.

unfulfilled. unsatisfied. clark really, really wants to rectify that, but—

"we've verified that you can't turn me," clark reassures, watching bruce's mouth flatten, his pale features stark in the darkness of the cave. "twice," he adds, failing to smother his fond smile. he puts a hand on bruce's shoulder, gratified when bruce lifts his gaze to meet clark's eye. "you need this. it's safe, and easy, and i want you to do it."

bruce's gaze is piercing even without the cowl. he observes clark with a subtle furrow in his brow, eyes darting across clark's face.

"you want me to," bruce repeats.

a flush crawls up clark's neck, washing over his cheeks before he can even think to try and will it away. gosh, even his ears are getting hot. "i—" clark starts, awkward and heavy with his own need. "yes," he continues. he swallows, and aims for a more definitive tone. "yes."

bruce continues to eye him, and clark tries not to squirm, even as his flush worsens. he watches bruce bite his lip as he deliberates. clark can see the sharp point of his canine, gleaming from the soft blue glow of the computer at his side.

"you said you liked it," clark adds quietly, remembering the breathy quality to bruce's voice when he admitted that yes, he did enjoy the taste of clark's blood. clark hadn't asked him to elaborate then—too occupied with escaping the warehouse and briefing the league on his kidnapping—but now he wishes he had. what did it taste like? what did bruce like about it? is there something clark can do or eat to enhance that taste? to make it better for bruce?

clark wonders, briefly, if he's gone too far, urged too much to the point that bruce might shrink away from his insistence. he doesn't want to ruin this before it even begins. he wants to help bruce, wants to ease the ache of his hunger and the uncertainty of an unreliable supply.

(and a private, selfish part of him wants to know what it feels like to have bruce drink from him, to be—claimed by him.)

"alright," bruce sighs eventually, his shoulders dropping.

clark suppresses a shiver, swallowing the eager noise in his throat and heaving a breath against the kick of his heart in his chest.

"okay," he whispers, letting the yoke of his shoulders ease, opening his posture to let bruce close.

bruce glides toward him, one hand gripping clark's bicep, the other going to clasp the back of his neck. clark tilts his chin up, excitement thrumming in his veins. bruce can probably smell it—can probably see the flutter of clark's pulse on the side of his throat, but he doesn't comment on it. doesn't tease. just leans closer, his own breath turning ragged.

"i've never done this before," bruce admits, his breath fanning over clark's throat. "tell me if it—hurts."

clark dips his chin just enough to show he understands. he doesn't want to dislodge bruce if he can help it. not when he's so close.

his teeth are wet against clark's pulsepoint, and clark realizes, from somewhere faraway, that bruce is drooling.

clark doesn't have much room to think, after that. bruce's teeth catch on his skin and sink, sharp and heated and right. clark grips at bruce's cape, desperate to clutch at something as bruce's tongue laves along his carotid artery to catch the spill of his blood.

the soft noise that slips past his teeth is entirely unbidden, but he's helpless to stop it. bruce pauses at his throat, going still at the sound, but clark plunges a hand into his hair and urges him back wordlessly. by some grace of god, it's enough to get bruce to continue.

clark goes limp when bruce's teeth sink deeper. he welcomes the weight of bruce's body against his, the static rising between his ears—and, mortifyingly, he feels his cock fill, heavy with blood against his thigh.

clark makes breakfast, its pancakes, eggs, bacon etc etc, a full spread the whole shebang

and for once, a clingy, groggy bat!!!!! he kind of just goes glorp onto clark's back and clark wants to scream but he knows if he reacts too much bruce will leave and so he shuts up mentally n settle for screaming internally merry christmas everyone

-🦖

hello again dino anon this is such a cute little treat!!

in my mind i’m thinkin it’s the morning after their First Time, and they’ve been dating a while but never took it further before. and clark, with manners practically tattooed on him by ma kent, wants this morning to be special, too—to show bruce that he’ll be good at caring for him in more ways than one.

he’s so focused on making the breakfast good that he doesn’t notice bruce shuffle in, all groggy and squinty-eyed. he almost startles when bruce settles on his back—almost. he can't afford to react too much for fear of jostling bruce. clark mutters a warm good morning, and gets an incoherent grumble in return as bruce buries his face between clark's shoulder blades and tugs them closer together.

bruce hardly ever initiates physical contact. clark knows for a fact that he likes it, but bruce has never been one to ask. he wonders if bruce's lack of hesitation is because of the early morning, because he's not quite awake yet. either way, clark certainly won't complain, not when it feels like he's been given a rare gift.

the cooking continues. clark's ears are definitely burning, and he can't quite keep the smile off his face, but he does nothing to make bruce move, content with the weight on his back.

when breakfast is finally ready, clark mourns bruce's closeness as he plates their food and sets the table. but then bruce frowns and starts grumbling again—face adorably scrunched, his bare chest heaving as he huffs a breath—before he sets everything on a serving cart and grabs clark's hand.

they end up on the back porch, pressed up against each other with plates in their laps, watching the sun rise over the treetops in the yard. when they're finished eating, bruce sets the dishware back on the cart and practically burrows into clark's side. it's not long before he's snoring softly against clark's chest.

Something about the world finding out about Bruce Wayne dating Superman the literal embodiment of rainbows and everything good they're very skeptical tbh.

At first they think it's a joke, how can Superman be in love with that ditzy airheaded playboy, and hence Bruce is ridiculed a lot, he always has been by the media. It's nothing new for him getting called a whore/slut and everything imaginable but Clark doesn't like it, he hates it with everything in him. But he's unable to stop it because Bruce forbade him.

And another problem is that now that everyone knows that Bruce is Superman's boyfriend, he's getting kidnapped regularly, some doing it for money some trying to take Superman down and various reasons, but Kal always saved him, and none of the kidnappings ever took a dark turn, until, one of them did.

The kidnappers were too precise,too Smart and too efficient, they managed to subdue him and keep in a lead lined place where Superman can't find him. They tortured him for hours, mercilessly, they were not shying away from the idea of killing him and that made them even more ruthless. When Kal finally found him, he almost killed every single one of them and even tho he managed to control himself, he cripplied all of them the same.

Bruce was a mess, his arms were broken, he had lacerations everywhere, his head was bashed in,he was passed out and completely unresponsive, Clark went insane, he tore up everything in his way as he took Bruce to the hospital not caring about the millions of cameras catching that moment, his eyes screaming bloody murder as Bruce was getting treatment. Bruce did make it alive but that day took something in Clark and broke it forever. He was unbearably over protective of Bruce after this, not letting anyone say a bad word or even look at his boyfriend wrong.

hypothetical power outage perhaps? with lack of AC? shirtless clark and bruce? mayhapsably

alternatively, pool clark and bruce? a water fight with the lil guns! or water balloons oh my gosh

-🦖

HII DINO ANON!!

ya it's actually boiling where i am, and the air quality has been shit too so i am avoiding the outdoors for the time being 😭

but summer superbat!! how could i resist!! (also i'm writing both of these prompts because they're good and i'm greedy)

power outage: they're stuck in clark's apartment after he's been depowered for the foreseeable future after a run-in with a sorcerer that they'd rather not relive. bruce insists on staying over to keep an eye on clark, and clark hardly puts up much of a protest when he has the chance to spend more time with bruce.

and then the power goes out. the a/c, the lights, the fridge—everything.

and clark, for the first time in his life, actually feels hot for an extended period of time. and then he starts to sweat. at first he thinks something's wrong—he's only ever sweated when exposed to kryptonite or magic or some other nefarious plot—but bruce explains with a healthy dose of teasing: "that's what happens when people get hot, clark. they sweat."

clark huffs, says, "i know that," and resigns himself to being annoyingly moist.

bruce just chuckles and tells him to take his shirt off, it'll cool him down.

and then clark does, and bruce is faced with a perfectly healthy clark, his skin tanned and practically glistening with sweat, all huffy because of the heat and the lack of powers. every time he moves his muscles bulge and shine and god, bruce is definitely drooling.

(he tries to make a move on clark, but clark adamantly refuses to do anything that could make him hotter, already overwhelmed. though he does really enjoy the rosy tint that has settled over bruce's nose and cheeks from the heat, especially so when it spreads over his chest.) water fight: clark flies over to gotham on a warm friday evening, eager to find bruce and hang out after a gruelling week. he follows the sound of bruce's heartbeat to the pool in the backyard, where bruce is picking up scraps of rubber.

he lands at bruce's side and presses a kiss to his temple. "what's all this?" he asks.

"water balloons. dick had his friends over after school, and these are the leftovers. but he's gone off to roy's for the weekend, so i'm on cleanup," bruce explains, turning to give him a proper kiss.

"i can help," clark says, eyeing the smattering of scraps all along the pool deck.

bruce hums, shifting away to collect more balloons. "you've had a tough week. i can handle it."

clark smiles, shaking his head. only bruce would refuse superspeed cleanup to let clark rest that much sooner. "it's really alright, bruce. it'll only take a moment—"

a water balloon cuts him off—and by cuts him off, he means it collides directly with his head, splashing water all in his hair and down his face.

bruce outright laughs at clark's expression, head thrown back, the sun catching the long column of his throat. "i can handle it," bruce repeats, smirking at him.

wiping his face with his hands, clark smiles despite himself, laughing along. but he doesn't let that stop him from finding an intact balloon of his own and nailing bruce in the back.

bruce shouts in surprise, shoulders bunching from the shock of cold water, and then it's an all-out brawl.

clark takes cover behind a lawn chair, speeding around the pool when it's safe to collect more full balloons. bruce still manages to pelt him with at least three, appearing to have his own endless supply of water ammo. clark can't wipe the grin off his face, delighted by the impromptu fun. it's so rare for him and bruce to get a chance to unwind like this.

it ends with an ambush. clark is too preoccupied with searching for another balloon that he doesn't realize bruce is behind him until he's got a bucket full of water spilling down his back.

clark turns on a dime and sweeps bruce off his feet into a kiss, laughing too hard to take it further.

"okay," bruce says when they separate, pushing away from clark and setting his eyes back to the pool. "now let me get the rest of the—" bruce sighs, shoulder's dropping. "clark."

clark tucks his lips into his teeth, rocking on his heels as he pointedly glances over to the pile of broken balloons, all collected and set aside neatly.

bruce shakes his head with a budding grin. "i cannot believe you," he says, and lunges forward, taking clark by surprise. he drags them both back until they crash into the pool, a tangle of limbs.

Bruce and Clark have sex the night before Brucie Wayne has a photoshoot. Clark is rough and leaves marks on Bruce’s body (handprints on thighs, hickeys everywhere, {neck. chest, stomach, thighs, butt} & bite marks too {same places as hickeys}). Every person involved with the photoshoot is in shock. They ask Brucie if they can cover them and he says no (so scandalous). In the end, they release the magazine [insert name of brand] and Brucie is all over the news bc of his photoshoot with such obvious marks, and people trying to figure out who could’ve done this to Playboy Brucie Wayne.

MM THIS IS SO INTERESTING i always love "first meeting" situations and to have them literally confined together is just chef's kiss.

i'm thinking something along the lines of clark who hates to fly in a plane, feeling trapped within his own identity and the tin can he's stuck in, acutely aware of how helpless he'd be to protect his secret if something went wrong.

and bruce, who's hiding a severe injury but has taken the plane because it's the fastest route back to gotham, sits beside clark. he tries to subtly stretch his leg out without encroaching, all while also trying to hide his sharp breaths and hisses of pain every time the plane experiences turbulence.

but clark, of course, has superhearing, and the one thing that never fails to ground him is a heartbeat. so here he is, halfway to a panic attack, listening to the heartbeat of the stranger beside him, and almost startling out of his seat when it jumps abruptly and the man swallows a groan at the slightest rock of the plane.

he's immediately on alert, subtly x-raying the stranger and finding an egregious injury under the man's pantleg. and then he starts wracking his brain on how to bring it up and help the guy without exposing himself. he doesn't come up with much.

but bruce catches him staring, and falls back on his default response to attention: flirting. most people brush him off or laugh and finally avert their eyes, but this man starts blushing, stuttering out an explanation. but then his shoulders drop, and his gaze turns searching as he says, "how did you get hurt?"

bruce plays dumb. he keeps flirting, focusing on the red glow of the stranger's ears and purposefully ignoring the prodding questions.

eventually, the man gives up on trying to find out how it happened, much to bruce's relief. he introduces himself as clark, and offers to help bruce get off the plane when it lands.

bruce gives clark his first name and nothing more. he reluctantly admits to himself that so much time spent sitting with his leg at an awkward angle will most certainly impede his movement when the plane lands, and hesitantly agrees to clark's help.

when they deboard, clark keeps a firm grip on bruce's arm, helping him stay upright as his leg buckles more than once. clark is gentle, murmuring words of encouragement in bruce's ear and smiling when they make it off the plane. bruce is more than a little affected, to say the least.

i've been listening to ATEEZ's say my name a lot lately, and it made me think of superbat!! in the song's lyrics, there's this line, "yes sir, responding to the call!" because yk the batsignal, ppl can shine that and batman comes right, and clark of course can hear it all. and it just made me think, what if they had their own lil signals to call for each other? 🥺🥺🥺

-🦖

hello dino anon!

bruce actually has developed a signal for clark in the comics before!! he literally invents an ultraviolet signal that projects into the sky, and only clark can see it. it's already a lot of work just to get clark's attention, and it's even worse because he could just call clark's name, but no. no it has to be complicated and precise and unmistakably for clark.

ANYWAY. yes, personalized signals would be so cute.

in MY version, i think bruce would have a specific set of words or maybe a certain vocalization he makes when he wants clark to come to him. kinda like a bird call or something, and he only uses it when he needs clark to get to him immediately, so clark hears it and literally comes flying at the speed of light, ready to help.

and for clark hmmmm i think he'd probably make something special for bruce in the fortress, something uniquely kryptonian and entirely bruce's that he can send a signal through to get bruce's attention. kinda like those "long-distance" bracelets where you tap on them and the other half receives the contact. when bruce receives a message through it, he's quick to suit up and descend on clark's last known location.

Especially if it’s his first time properly doing it?? Batman I’m praying for your sanity 😭😭

(original post!)

THANK YOU ANON 💞💞💞

yes bruce does NOT handle his first taste of blood straight from the source well. he's instantly addicted, and if clark were anyone else his neck would be a mess of desperate, messy bite marks for the rest of his life.

i can for sure imagine bruce being so hungry that he starts to manhandle clark into a better position—shoving clark against the wall, putting his hand under clark's jaw to push his head up and out of the way, using his weight to pin clark down and keep him there while bruce drinks his fill.