Batman Kink Meme
THE BATMAN KINK MEME
nanakibh here~! For those of you who don't know what these are, allow me to explain. It's a place where you can request fics anonymously and have your deepest, darkest desires be fulfilled. Anon A requests and Anon B writes for the prompt. Easy as that.
★ Request anonymously. Or not. It's really up to you, I suppose.
★ Clearly state ( Read more... )
nanakibh here~! For those of you who don't know what these are, allow me to explain. It's a place where you can request fics anonymously and have your deepest, darkest desires be fulfilled. Anon A requests and Anon B writes for the prompt. Easy as that.
★ Request anonymously. Or not. It's really up to you, I suppose.
★ Clearly state ( Read more... )
He could only shudder as The Joker drew a sloppy red grin on his abdomen.
"Let us see what we have to work with now." The Joker sudden brought all of his attention to the most intimate of Bruce's body parts. There was no arousal whatsoever, which seemingly disappointed the other man.
"With all the beatings you bring upon yourself, Batman, I would think you'd enjoy a little pain, get off on it even. Don't tell me you're in it just for the heroics!" The Joker cackled again, suddenly grabbing Bruce's member.
Bruce felt a wave of nausea rush over him; he was still in disbelief that any of this was happening. The Joker dipped his head and planted a few wet kisses on the tip of Bruce's cock before taking it into his mouth and gently sucking.
Bruce could clearly feel where the Joker's trademark scars began at the corners of his mouth. It was a strange feeling, to have such uneven flesh rub against him. In spite of his absolute horror, Bruce's body responded to the Joker's touches.
"There we go," the Joker moaned into him, clearly amused. He lifted his chin, looked straight into Bruce's eyes. "I knew a darker... nastier part was hiding in there." He stood then and reached for the straps that held Bruce's legs down.
"I am going to release these and move you. Try anything, and the deal is off. Capisce?" Bruce could only nod, still feeling sick. The Joker undid the bonds around his feet, then moved to get the ones at his wrists. Again, he looked into Bruce's eyes. "No. Funny business."
He freed the strap around his wrists then, but Bruce found his hands were still tied together by a separate rope. The Joker had no intention of changing this. His eyes narrowed into slits, deadly, threatening.
"Now flip over onto your stomach."
Everything in Bruce screamed. Warning bells were going off, his body refused to move.
He winced again, but finally complied. After all, his flesh was exposed, prime for the stabbing at the Joker's will.
Tormented, he struggled to roll onto his side. What seemed like hours of stillness left his muscles stiff and almost unresponsive.
The Joker, content with this show of submission, helped with the process, if somewhat forcefully.
Soon Bruce was bent over the edge of the table, feeling utterly helpless.
Bruce could see none of what the Joker was doing now.
He must have taken his gloves off, because now the hands that were exploring his back and obsessing over the curves of his muscles were warm, rough. Skin on skin.
Bruce shuddered again as he gently ran his fingertips over the base of his spine.
He listened as the Joker finally unzipped his pants, freeing what must have been a very bothersome erection, judging by the pure lust in the sigh that followed.
Bruce refused to try and see what was going on.
He kept his eyes closed and head down, cheek pressed flat against the surface of the table.
He heard the sound of wheels though, a cart of some sort. The opening of drawers. The pop of a cap and squirting of a liquid, and without warning, Bruce was being fiercely lubed up. The Joker seemed almost desperate.
"Wouldn't want to make this too painful of what, I imagine, is a first time for you, Batman." He grunted, and Bruce could only assume he was focusing on himself now. "As much as I would enjoy that."
Then the Joker was pressing against him, fully aroused. Bruce braced himself, knew that he couldn't escape any of what was about to happen, clenched his jaw and balled his fists as best as he could.
The Joker snaked his arm around Bruce's hip and was inside him with a violent thrust.
Nothing could prepare Bruce for the sensation. He cried out, which only seemed to excited the Joker more. He kept no particular rhythm, bucking his hips wildly. At the same time, he brought his knife to Bruce's skin, flicked it repeatedly, created small cuts all across his back. Bruce flinched with every slit. The Joker dug his nails into Bruce's hips, growled and gasped with every movement, all of it seemed like it was stretching on for eternity--
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“I want you back on your back. The reactions on your face will make this all the more... enjoyable, don't you think?”
And with that, the Joker turned Bruce around and pushed him back onto the table, was strapping his arms back down before Bruce had time to even comprehend what was going on.
Then the other man was back at the end of the table, poised to enter Bruce again. He threw one of his muscular legs over his shoulder, admiring the almost perfect structure before thrusting into him. This time he seemed to have a particular pace, watching Bruce's face contort with pain and horror. It filled him with glee and pleasure and drove him oh-so-crazy.
“Tell me that--” he accented every word with a thrust “--You. Want. This.”
He pushed himself as far as he could go into Bruce then. The other man only roared, defeated by his complete lack of control. Rage boiled inside of him, and he finally dared to look at the Joker, eyes filled with murder. The Joker gasped, delighted.
“There it is! You know, I just love it when you are angry, Batman.” He leaned forward, inches from Bruce's face now, breath hot and stinging over his cheeks. “You're at your best when you are filled with... hatred. All your self-righteousness disappears, and all that's left is someone just as horrible and violent as I am.” The Joker roughly kissed Bruce then, forcing his tongue into the other man's mouth, vehemently biting at his lip until he drew blood. “So admit that you like being like this, as craaazy as me.”
That appeared to be the breaking point for him, because his thrusts became wild again. He lost whatever control he had until, pump after agonizingly savage pump, Bruce's thighs and stomach were covered with the Joker's seemingly acidic seed.
Panting, the Joker withdrew again. He licked clean all of the mess on Bruce's stomach, even the blood from earlier. He curled and uncurled his fingers, anxious to do something else with his hands, but apparently holding himself back.
“Now see, Batman, that wasn't so horrible, was it?” He breathed in the scent of Bruce's skin, rubbed his cheek slowly against it, savored every moment of contact he had with it. Then the Joker was at Bruce's lips again, kissing him softly this time. Bruce could taste the mixture of the Joker's fluids and his own blood, both from his lip and the Joker's tongue, and it made him want to vomit. He could only whimper into the other man's mouth, silently begging him to stop, to release him.
The Joker drew away, eyes closed. He spoke slowly. “Maybe it's time for you to go then. You fulfilled your end of the deal, and I have to fulfill mine now.” He reached for he cart again, and Bruce could finally feel some peace, he would be free and away for this horrible place and--
The Joker interrupted his thoughts, pressing a cloth to his face. Bruce inhaled sharply and darkness consumed him.
When Bruce awoke, he was disoriented and sore. The Joker had dressed him in a black robe, dumped him somewhere in the city. Bruce panicked then, sat up and looked around wildly.
He was in no danger of being found though; apparently, in the Joker's increasingly ironic sense of humor, he had thought it was a good idea to hide Bruce away on the roof of the MCU, feet away from the now-destroyed Bat signal. No one had been up there for weeks, there was no need. In fact, the door that was directly in his line of sight was padlocked shut.
The Joker had been kind enough, if kind could describe it, to pack all of the various parts of Batman's armor into a box. He even labeled it: “The Bat” covered every inch of cardboard in wild red script.
Bruce got into his feet awkwardly then, body protesting in every way possible. That's when he noticed one of the Joker's famous calling cards pinned to the fabric over his heart. Bruce shuddered at the words, and finally he could no longer help himself. He doubled over, spilling sick onto the gravel below him, as the card fluttered from his hands and gently landed onto the ground:
“Thanks for the good time, stud. Call me when you wanna PLAY again - The Joker”
Edited to fix a rougue punctuation mark, haha
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Always happy to write smut, lolol
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Hope s/he likes it :D
Thanks for the compliment!
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DEAR LORD WAS THAT HOT! gah, i feel like a need a cigarette after reading that and I don't even smoke. thank you so much for fulfilling my request.
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You're quite welcome.
This was a wonderful idea, this meme.
Glad you were (*ahem*) satisfied with my reply. ;D
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