[flyinthebatcave]

Side Blog strictly about superbat!!

Main blog @darlinglovedoe but it’s so deep into the Pitt so all my superbat stuff gets lost lol

• will be posting all my superbat fics and blurbs here!

Fanfics!

🔗 ↴

Superbat College AU - 6 parts✔️

Superbat Civilian AU - 6 parts✔️

Superbat Mafia AU - ongoing

Superbat civilian Dads AU - ongoing

[flyinthebatcave]

Sometimes I see fanart of Superman with the craziest arch and I NEED to read him getting railed by an angry Batman

[flyinthebatcave]

Superbat Mafia AU Part 7

Bruce laid in their bed staring up at the ceiling. His mind ran with every word Clark had spoken to him, but the one thing that haunted him the most was the way he tried so hard to hide how much he still loved him.

Bruce knew Clark’s every little quirk, and one of them was how easy he was to read when he didn’t want to be. Clark had never been one to hide his love. Now it felt as if just the feeling of it in his chest disgusted him. Bruce didn’t sob hysterically the way everyone thought he would. Rather, he bathed himself in darkness and let his tears slip silently.

Perhaps Clark had been right. Perhaps he did have control issues. Bruce would be the first to admit to his own faults, but having it thrown in his face by the one man that had always accepted him was a kind of pain that couldn’t be protected by Kevlar.

He didn’t know how long he had stayed there nor how much time had even passed outside. He called the jail frequently to check on Clark and see if he could visit. He knew he could visit whenever he wanted—but it was not about what he wanted. Clark didn’t want to see him. He had made that abundantly clear. From his spot on their bed, covered in Clark’s clothes, he had been able to pull some strings and get the court to put Clark on house arrest until his trial.

Clark was coming home today, but he didn’t have it in him to get up. Clark wouldn’t be coming into the room anyways. He had sent word through Gordon that he’d be spending his house arrest in the spare room. Bruce hated it. He hated that he couldn’t lay in Clark’s arms at night anymore. He hated that he couldn’t greet him at the door with a kiss.

He hated that Clark hated him now.

There was a knock on the door. He didn’t startle nor answer, but the voice spoke anyways. “Master Bruce, Master Kent has arrived.” Alfred was kind enough to give him a reason to finally get out of bed—he knew the old butler had been trying to weeks now. It didn’t work, however, as he heard Clark’s gruff voice say from down the hall. “Let him be, Alfred. You know Bruce would much rather wallow in his own grief than try to come to terms with his wrong-doings.” This are him flinch. It made him hold Clark’s shirt closer to his chest.

Bruce admitted that what he did might’ve been done things the wrong way, but he didn’t regret it. Rather, he regretted getting caught, and perhaps that’s what pissed Clark off the most.

Clark shut the door of the guest room behind him. The last time he had stepped foot in here was when they had first bought the house. A part of him wanted to beg Bruce to go back to the manor with Alfred, but another part of him prickled at the idea of Bruce being away from him when he couldn’t leave.

The bed dipped as he sat on the edge, his suit a mess of ash and dust from that day. He wanted to change out of it, but all his clothes were in the other room. The one currently occupied by the very man he both wanted to avoid and needed to see. It was confusing. He hated being confused.

With a sigh, he ran his hands through his hair, tugging at his roots as he processed the past few weeks. He had a lot of time to think while he was stuck in that cell. He thought about everything he had said to Bruce when he came to visit and what he would say once he came to visit again. Except, Bruce was too good at listening to him when he knew it’d hurt. So, he never showed up. He did as he was told and never came for another visit.

That probably was what angered Clark more. He knew he had said some harsh things—things he meant and things he didn’t. The really issue was: what did Bruce take as the truth?

He knew his husband better than anyone. He knew Bruce would take anything and bury it deep in his chest until he couldn’t breathe. He could imagine him laid in their bed, face tear-stained, as he held one of his shirts close to him. But, as much as the imagine hurt to think about, he couldn’t bring himself to go in there and comfort him. He couldn’t tell him everything would be okay because it wouldn’t. He couldn’t tell him he forgives him because he still didn’t.

Someone knocked on the door, lightly, meaning it wasn’t Alfred. “Go back to our room, Bruce.” He sighed, but Bruce spoke instead of retreating. His voice was steady. “I just came to leave you some of your things.” A silence rang between them as Clark stood up and walked to the door. He stopped with his hand on the handle, sighing as he leaned his head against the wood. “I can leave, Clark. You won’t have to worry about seeing me around.” He couldn’t see him, but he could tell Bruce had stepped closer to the door. “You can move around the house freely. You won’t ever have to see me again.” Clark was smart enough to know Bruce didn’t mean ‘for now’.

Bruce meant forever. Bruce was giving him an out.

“Stay.” He answered without thought. The idea of never having Bruce in his life—of the last time they ever saw each other being Clark accusing Bruce—pained him. This couldn’t be the end. They just needed time. “Just stay, Bruce. Don’t go anywhere, please.” Bruce didn’t answer for a second as he set down Clark’s things next to the door.

“I’ll be in our room then. Whenever you want to talk again.” Bruce offered the closed door, staring at it, hoping that’d it’d open and Clark would let him fall into his arms again. But it never did. So, he turned and walked back down the hall.

[nigaki]

How does Clark respond to a newcomer or even a villain questioning how Batman ‘a mere human’ is one of the main leaders and strategies of the Justice League?

He cuts this bullshit short immediately. He won't allow anyone, especially a newcomer to the League, question Batman's authority and position in the group after he's proven it times and times again.

[flyinthebatcave]

Superman “causally” pulling aside a newcomer he heard was questioning Batman’s ability and authority after a meeting; holding him by the back of the neck.

“Question Batman’s position one more time and I’ll show you why they call me the Man of Steel.” He whispers into their ear, the skin under his grasp creaking as it bruised. The newcomer stood in shock after Superman left, having only heard how kind and gentle he was.

They went to the bathroom after to see their neck covered in an angry bruise, wincing as they turned their neck to see the rest of it.

Superman wasn’t aggressive or mean, but his new teammates had been right about one thing:

Superman did not take kindly those that talked ill about Gotham’s vigilante.

[flyinthebatcave]

I talk a lot about obsessive Clark but I’m a big believer in secretly obsessive Bruce

Like, he’d definitely leave a bread crumb trail for Clark to follow and do what he wants while pretending it was all Clark’s idea. He leaves his bedroom window unlocked for him and whispers his name in his “sleep” for weeks before that.

He’d make sure to wear those really tight gray briefs that hug his ass the right way, bending over to “pick up some documents” from the coffee table by the window, knowing that Clark was standing across the street watching him. Using his X-ray vision to see.

When Clark would sit too close during JLA meetings Bruce would “accidentally” lays a hand on his knee, scatting it up his thigh, pretending he “missed” the chairs armrests.

When night fell, and Clark had finally snuck into his bed, he’d keep his breathing and heart beat steady as he backed up into Clark hold, rubbing the curve of his ass against Clark hard bulge, trying to hold it together as he heard the man suppress a moan in his ear.

Clark, simply enjoyed the show and advancements, thinking he was as sneaky as can be.

[flyinthebatcave]

Happy pride month to Clark and Bruce who spent multiple years raising a family together without knowing it and making everyone believe they were together the whole time!!

(All according to Clark’s plan, btw)

[preciselyserratedundertow-deact]

Quezart

@geminis_dw

[flyinthebatcave]

I love being 22 and convincing ppl that absolute Batman would still bottom

[ignisarrow]

Look at this diva 🌹

[flyinthebatcave]

Not superbat but I just got an idea for a charlisle fic…maybe I should open that twilight side blog I’ve been thinking about

[stillnotsquashed]

Imagining a hijinky World's Finest scenario where Superman has to pretend to have taken over the earth in front of some alien invaders and Bruce and Dick are there pretending to be Clark's slaves only for one of the aliens to assume Bruce is Clark's concubine and Clark just kinda rolls with it because what else is he meant to do?

[nigaki]

And then Bruce discovers he doesn't mind that at all, and enjoys his new role a little too much.

[flyinthebatcave]

And Dick doesn’t really see a difference in their regular dynamic cause he’s kinda been waiting his whole life for them to get together

[flyinthebatcave]

Clark watched Bruce from across the gala hall. Bruce is in his tailored suit, looking as handsome as ever. He was flirting with another Gotham socialite—which wasn’t new. The part that made Clark’s blood boil was that he couldn’t tell whether Bruce was enjoying the flirting or not.

Clark would always tell. Always. Bruce was an open book to him. Yet he couldn’t see anything past the way Bruce laughed at everything the man said and didn’t recoil whenever the man flirtatiously touches his wrist.

It enraged him. It took him years to get Bruce to even look at him for longer than two seconds, and just recently Bruce had stopped grunting in disapproval whenever he lingered too close. Yet this man was getting all his smiles and touches.

Smiles and touches that didn’t belong to him.

“Cool it, Boy Scout.” Lois’s voice suddenly came from beside him. “I’m fine.” His voice was clipped as he took the champagne float she offered him and downed it in one go. Alcohol didn’t affect him, but it was moments like this where he wished he could drown himself in it.

“Sure you are.” Lois looked in the direction he bore holes in. It was obvious to her in ways it wasn’t to Clark. Her friend was a man that knew everything about Bruce—as scary as it was at time—it was funny that he couldn’t tell what Bruce was doing. “He’s not your boyfriend, Clark. You remember that, right?” She knew that was a low blow, but sometimes he needed the reminder that he didn’t own Bruce Wayne.

Clark’s jaw clenched as Bruce turned to the side just long enough for their eyes to connect for a second. There was a sparkle in the he’d never seen before. It was driving him insane.

“I know, Lois. He just-“ he cut himself off, swallowing before he could say something he couldn’t take back. He wanted to monopolize Bruce. Keep him locked away in the fortress of solitude where no one else could ever find them.

Not here, in a glitzy gala hall, talking to a man he didn’t know and getting way too close for comfort.

“I’m going over there.” Clark decided, not enjoying the way the man’s fingers wrapped around Bruce wrist nor the way his lips just barely touched the curve of Bruce’s ear as he whispered something into his ear. “Clark!” Lois grabbed his forearm, feeling him slightly weaken against the kryptonite ring on her finger that was made for moments like these, but it didn’t work. Clark was running on pure fumes now.

Nothing could stop him as he yanked his arm from her grip and moved his way through the crowd towards him. As if sensing a raging bull coming towards him, Bruce turned. Clark towards over him, the slightest tint of red shining in his eyes.

“Bruce.” Clark gritted, not sparing the other man a glance in fear that he might do something drastic. “Clark! I knew I saw you here!” He played up his Brucie bit, pulling his wrist from the man’s hold to wrap his arms around Clark’s instead. “Perry sent me to get interviews.” He explained his presence, his anger subsiding a little from Bruce’s touch.

Bruce hummed, his eyes bright as he looked at him before turning to look at the man again. “I don’t think you’ve met yet! Clark this is my new friend-“ He didn’t let him finish. Perhaps if he knew the man’s name, it’d solidify that there was someone out there that could take him from him.

“May I steal you away for an interview, Mr. Wayne? It’ll be quick so you make come back to your…friend.” The word felt bitter on his tongue, but a pleased smile stretched across Bruce’s face regardless. “Of course!” Bruce’s arms squeezed around his before he let go and faced the man.

“I’ must go but, do enjoy the gala!” He excused himself before he walked off with Clark on his tail.

Lois watched from afar as Bruce dragged a seething dog by the collar into a darkened, secluded, hallway within Wayne Enterprise. She knew the game Bruce was playing. He was cunning, smart. He knew Clark’s every tick and intention.

That man was a socialite from California that had come to visit before signing a contract. He was no one special to Bruce. But Clark was. And Bruce enjoyed watching Clark lose his cool.

[0lizanz]

Been a while since I post here but here’s a recent sb sketch I did 🫶

[gotham-blight]

If Clark isn't using Bruce like a chew toy, then what's the point

[flyinthebatcave]

I just know Bruce is littered in bite marks and bruises on a consistent bases to the point where the tabloids are starting to mention his lack of revealing clothing

[flyinthebatcave]

The concept of Clark sneaking into Bruce’s bed every night and Bruce pretending to sleep bc he can’t admit out loud that he’s gotten used to sleeping in Clark arms and can’t fall sleep unless he’s there, haunts me.

Clark gets jittery every night whenever Bruce comes back from patrolling, his every sense slowly tuned into Bruce. His every move. His every breath. All of it is monitored. He waits until he hears Bruce’s breathing even out to fly over there so quickly, most ppl in both Metropolis and Gotham think he’s a shooting star.

He sneaks in through the always unlocked window (odd for Bruce but Clark’s mind is so hazed over by the thought of holding Bruce that he doesn’t realize it’s odd) and pulls his shirt off until he’s just wearing his sleeping bottoms.

He carefully lifts the blanket and sneaks under the covers, wrapping an arm around Bruce’s waist while the other sneaks under him until it’s wrapped around his chest. He lets out a sigh of relief as Bruce stays asleep, shuffling back into Clark rather than away.

This felt right to him, having Bruce in his arms every night. Bruce wasn’t much better in his need. He was just better at hiding it.

He’d been ending his patrol seconds earlier than usual, his skin tingling with the anticipation of a good nights rest in Clark’s arms. It was the only time he slept so soundly that his body didn’t completely ache the next morning.

Clark’s body curved around his, making him feel safe. Bruce never felt safe. Not until night came and a certain reporter from across the river snuck in.

[flyinthebatcave]

Hanging out on the batcave walls and started thinking about hyper obsessive Clark

Him flying onto a building across the Wayne building to stare at Bruce through his office windows. Using his Xray vision to watch him through the walls.

Clark using any excuse to sit next to him at his desk in the batcave, monopolizing his time whenever he had a chance. Bruce pretending he doesn’t enjoy the company as he knocks their knees together, flipping through his documents.

Bruce’s bed always dipping late at night, him pretending to be deep in sleep at Clark sneaks in. Clark pulling him in close, every inch of Bruce’s back molded with Clark’s front. Bruce leaving his bedroom window unlocked on purpose after Clark had melted the lock the first few times.

Clark standing too close during JLA meetings, towing over his shoulder and staring down anyone that got too close to Bruce or looked at him a certain way.

His hands itched and tingled whenever Bruce was within arms reach and he couldn’t touch him.

Diana having to hold him back one too many times during missions so he wouldn’t run off to help Bruce (even though he knew the bat was more than capable of handling himself), and Lois having to remind him that Bruce had an act to keep up and keeping a kryptonite ring on her (made my Bruce himself) to keep him in check whenever Clark noticed Gotham socialites getting too cozy.

[flyinthebatcave]

Was on the stalactite when I had a thought about absolute superbat first meeting because Kal fell at first sight:

Bruce had just gotten off work. He was walking down an alley to get to the apartment him and his mom lived at. He was exhausted, to say the least, but he still had Batman duties that night.

He couldn’t let himself slip up. No matter how tired he was, he needed to put on the cowl as soon as the moon was high in the sky.

He noticed someone was following him from a few miles back. He pretended like he didn’t notice, but the presence was so obvious—not because of the footsteps, but the lack there of. He couldn’t hear any. It was haunting feeling eyes on himself but not hearing anything with them.

Bruce knew of only one guy that could do that, but he was over in Metropolis.

“How long are you gonna follow me for? I’m tired and wanna sleep.” He decided to speak as he lead them both into a secluded area. It was a dead end, no one came ‘round this side of the alley unless they were trying to do something they didn’t want to get caught with.

“You’re smarter than you look.” The voice chuckled, feet finally landing on the ground as Bruce turned. He’d seen pictures before, but he realized then that they didn’t do the man much justice. He was beautiful, and much younger than him.

Bruce cleared his throat, “I caught you following me from a few blocks back.” Superman huffed, shrugging. “Was worth a shot. A guy as big as you probably got used to getting stared at.” Bruce huffed, “what do you want? I don’t have all night.” His mom should’ve been back by now and he didn’t like leaving her alone for too long.

Superman shrugged. He wasn’t in his usual suit, now standing in a sweater with some jeans and sneakers. It made him look his age, less imposing. “I-um-I saw you working out last week while I was flying over Gotham.” Bruce raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. “And-um-I was wondering if you were seeing anyone?” The question confused him.

He’d been stalked for a week just to get asked if he was seeing anyone?

“I’m not. Is that it?” Bruce walked past him, wanting to get back to him original path when he got pulled back with strength he’d never felt before. “Wait!” Bruce’s back hit the brick wall harder than Superman had probably intended it. “Since you’re not seeing anyone,” Bruce didn’t think aliens blushed, and yet here was one doing just that as he pinned him against a wall.

Floating, by the way, so that they could be at eye level.

“How ‘bout seeing me?” Bruce stared at him for a second, baffled. “What?” He wasn’t going to hide his confusion because he had to have heard him wrong. “Go out on a date with me?” He repeated, confirming that Bruce had indeed heard him right.

Silence rang between them, making Kal feel even more awkward at the situation. He hadn’t intended to get caught, but his crush was smarter than he anticipated. Most of the men he’d seen with the type of physic Bruce had were dumb as rocks. This was the case.

It was exciting.

After what felt like way too long, Kal floated back and down to his feet. He just looked at Bruce, taking in his beautiful before sighing. “I’m take that as a no—but don think this is it! I’ll be back with a better one that you won’t be able to say no to!” And with that last burst of confidence, Kal flew into the sky as fast as he could.

Bruce stayed against the wall for a bit, processing what had just happened. He’d been asked out before, of course he had, but this was different. This was the first time he’d actually felt something while it happened.

It was odd. His cheeks were a little flushed, but that probably the summer heat. His heart was beating quickly, but that was probably because of his walk home.

Yeah, that had to be it.

With that, he walked back on his path home, a certain guy from Metropolis overtaking his thoughts the whole way there.

[flyinthebatcave]

This being literally the fic

(Pls tag the original artist of you know!! I could find them 😭)

[unicornconnor]

"Tamed god"