i was writing this and it was supposed to be porn and Clark just worshiping Bruce's belly but then it turned into a whole clusterfuck of angst. i opened MS word with the intention of writing porn but plot came out instead. that was new. usually i open MS word with the intention of writing plot, but porn comes out.

Unbeta'd.

Obsessive Possessive

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Category: M/M
Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Relationship: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Character: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne
Additional Tags: Jealousy, Mood Swings, Mpreg, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Clark Kent, Omega Bruce Wayne, Married Couple, Mates

Summary: Clark is obsessed with Bruce's body. Bruce is one possessive bitch.

Bruce was beautiful.

Even if Bruce himself thought he looked unappealing because of the changes his body went through to accommodate and prepare for their growing baby, Clark spent most of the day trying to steal touches, gently rubbing circles on his mate's belly, making sure Bruce felt that Clark didn't care about what he looked like.

Because if Bruce didn't like what he looked like, Clark absolutely loved it.

Bruce had soft, smooth, flushed skin, curves and widened hips. Every part of him had filled out, nice and plump. His breasts were engorged, veiny, and his areolas darkened and his nipples puffy, ready to feed their baby. His belly was beautiful, rotund, skin stretched so tight and snug for their baby his navel popped out. He looked so gorgeously healthy, voluptuous, fecund, and so wonderfully and fruitfully stuffed,and brilliantly and exquisitely fat.

Goodness, Clark couldn't even begin to describe why he felt that way. Why he felt that so drawn to Bruce's fertile body, like he couldn't get enough of it. Like he wanted to make him stay that way forever. Make him stay soft, big, round, and heavy with his children. Plug up his cunt with his cock like Bruce begged for during sex.

He loved how his clothes were tight around his belly. The way Bruce's skin slightly bulged from the snug fit of his underwear, including the support he had for his full breasts. Like, right now, Bruce was putting some clothes on after a shower. Even Clark's own shirts for work, which were about a size larger and he absolutely loved seeing on Bruce, weren't enough to cover his belly anymore.

He moved towards Bruce, and kissed the nape of his neck, and slowly rubbed circles on his mate's bare belly. "Mmm, love seeing you naked," he said as he pressed kisses on Bruce's shoulder.

Bruce wanted to tell him he was the only one who'd seen him this naked, but then Alfred had seen worse things than Clark, but he sigh instead. "C'mon, Clark, I'm not in the mood," he said, brushing Clark's hands away. "I have been miserable the past few weeks, and I want this kid out of me," he picked a nightgown from the closet. "If this kid isn't as big as he looks and everything in here is all water, I don't know what I'm going to do," (1)

Bruce had been complaining about how heavy the baby already was (actually, he already complained of the weight at 29 weeks—what more now at 36). Considering Clark's build and alien origins, the baby could be really that big. Now Clark was feeling guilty, but Bruce looked so sexy, it made his dick tingle.

"Here," Clark took the nightgown and put it back on the rack. He led Bruce out of their walk-in closet, and ushered him onto the bed to sit down and lean on the pillows stacked up against the header. "To ease your worries, I changed the sheets when you were in the shower. I bought some cheap ones," he said, taking a bottle of massage oil from the bedside drawer.

Bruce raised a brow at him. "Alfred's going to freak that you put cheap sheets on the bed,"

Clark popped the bottle open. "At least the Egyptian linens won't be soiled," he gave Bruce a smile then a wink. They'd been doing it in places where they wouldn't have to suffer through the humiliation of knowing that Alfred knew what happened there. Usually Clark just cleaned the place in super speed just to be safe.

"Oh, Jesus," Bruce rolled his eyes.

Clark bent Bruce's knees up, and started gently massaging Bruce's aching, swollen feet to get the blood circulating.

"Oohhh, Jesus!" Bruce repeated louder and more drawn out as he threw his head back, and grabbed the sheets with both hands. "Fuck—fuck that feels good," Clark had always given him massages like this. It got better and felt every time because he felt more like shit as their baby grew.

Bruce had always thought Clark would make a good mate. He was strong, caring, and thoughtful. He thought the mild mannered reporter face was adorable, and he loved making Clark blush at work. Superman was an entirely different personality, and Bruce just wanted to fuck Superman all the time. The cape never failed to make him wet if he thought really hard about it. And Kal and Clark, a combination of all his personalities wrapped up in one person—his husband—at home, was just perfect. He was confident but humble, most importantly, he wasn't scared of calling Bruce out on his bullshit. Besides, having a husband who could fly and reach speeds of at a least MACH 4 was pretty useful, especially when one had international taste.

Clark pressed a thumb into the middle of Bruce's foot, which made the omega let out an indescribably sound of surprise and pleasure. "Good?"

Bruce closed his eyes, leaned back on the pillows. "Really good," he answered absently, then bit his lip. "Hnnuh!" he took a several fast, and deep breaths as Clark continued to slowly work his feet. "I owe you so many blowjobs—holy SHIT!"

"Oof!" Clark rolled over fell off the foot of bed.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" Bruce leaned forward in attempt to see if Clark was okay. "Are you alright?" it was a stupid question but he asked him anyway.

"I'm fine!" Clark reappeared and climbed back on the bed. "That was a first. Must have pressed something hard enough for you to kick me in the face,"

"Every fiber of my being wants to kick you in the face, even more your balls, for a while now, Clark," said Bruce, watching Clark move to massage his other foot. "Because every single drop of misery I'm in right now is your fault. But I don't want a divorce due to irreconcilable differences because I like your cock," Bruce practically gave up on seduction way before the moment he found out he couldn't see his feet, or pick up a pen he dropped. Just pretty much the moment he started blowing up like crazy.

"Yeah?" Clark chuckled, making slow, long pressing strokes from Bruce's toes to the back of his knee.

"Yeah," said Bruce, "I like it a whole damn lot, or else there wouldn't be a piled up promises of blowjobs, right?"

"I'm looking forward to those," Clark grinned at him.

Bruce threw a pillow and it hit Clark square in the face. "Stop smiling!" Bruce frowned, "I hate it!"

He hated it because when they were out, just for a walk, or to look at more baby stuff, or when they were from the doctor, at the mall after a movie, there were people who ignored Bruce's obvious pregnancy, and flirt with Clark anyway. And Clark, the provincial farmboy that he was, only smiled at these passing peasants (Bruce didn't really think of them or himself that way, but he was angry), who stopped them on the way back to the car while Bruce's back was aching and his feet swollen. It made his blood boil.

"Look here, you dense cunt," Bruce had snapped at a female omega, who'd been outright getting all up on Clark (he was exaggerating, she really wasn't, but she was flirting) one afternoon while he and Clark were at the mall window shopping and deciding what else to get for the baby. "You walk your whore ass the fuck away from me and my mate right now before I decide to break your face,"

That was the first time Clark had heard Bruce snap at anyone else other than the people at home.

"Excuse me?" the female omega had replied incredulously.

Bruce hit her with the back of his hand. "I thought I told you to walk away!" the woman feel to the floor.

"Bruce!" Clark held Bruce back before he could grab the woman by her hair and drag her personally to Hades' gates.

"I swear to God, and to all circles of hell," Bruce had seethed with anger Clark could feel it coming from him in waves. "If you do not get the fuck up and run like the police is after you, I am going to skin you alive right here!"

Terrified, the woman ran before the security could get to them. Bruce didn't talk to Clark all day, but he did smile and say thank you to the male beta who was entertaining their questions.. Clark didn't know who was more terrified, the salesman who was helping them decide what else to get at the store they were at, or the female omega.

That was three days ago. Bruce hadn't talked to Clark properly since then.

Clark set the pillow down by Bruce's feet. He sighed. "Are you still angry about that woman at the mall?"

"I'm not angry at the woman. I could care less if she got hit by a truck the way she ran out," Bruce withdrew his foot from Clark and got off the bed. There was some difficulty but he wanted to get off the bed without Clark's help. He went back into their closet and grabbed one of his nightdresses and put it on. "I'm not angry with her," said Bruce as he stepped out of the closet. "I'm angry with you. So don't you smile at me, Kal," he slammed the closet door shut.

Clark frowned a little with the usage of his Kryptonian name. "What's wrong with smiling?"

Bruce glared at him. "Because you smiled at me the way you smiled at her!"

"I was trying to be polite!"

"The only person who should get your utmost respect more than anyone is me!" Bruce said angrily. Bruce could tell Clark that he remembered every single one of them that flirted with him when he was there. "When someone comes up to you and asks what you do for a living, you tell them to fuck off, Kal! You don't fucking entertain them in front of your pregnant mate!"

"I wasn't entertaining them—"

"You were being polite, yeah know," Bruce said bitterly. "This mare is sorry for interrupting your mingling, Alpha Kent," he said as he moved to leave the room. "Go fuck some omega whore for all I care," and slammed the door on his way out.

He thought of letting Bruce cool off, but after a few moments, Clark quickly got off the bed and followed him out. "Bruce!"

"Fuck off, Kal!" said Bruce as he walked away, headed for one of the drawing rooms.

Clark had a hunch he was going to the cave, and since the stairs at the grandfather clock entrance were too dangerous for Bruce, he was going for the elevator behind the shelves and the piano. But he wasn't worried about Bruce getting in the cave, he was worried about Bruce slipping. His feet were covered in the massage oil, and not every part of the manor was carpeted, and the way to the drawing rooms were marble. Their hallway had carpeting, and it ended right before the hall ended.

"Bruce, please!" said Clark, hoping Bruce would turn around and yell at him some more, just so he'd stop walking. Because nothing would ever stop him from going to the cave, especially when he really wanted to. Like right now, so he could go cool off.

"Go away! I hate you right now!" Bruce yelled, taking his first step onto the cream colored marble.

"Bruce!"

"WHAT?!" Bruce said irritably as he turned around, and slipped.

They had a deal that Clark wasn't allowed to use his powers inside the house unless Bruce asked him to. But Bruce was far too down the hall. In frenzy of fear and panic, Clark zoomed to him (causing some paintings to fall to the floor and some expensive vases and figures to fall and break), and caught Bruce in time.

Bruce clung to him tightly, obviously, but trying to hide that he was shaken up and scared.

"Oh, Rao," said Clark shakily. "You could've gotten hurt," he pressed a kiss to Bruce's temple, slowly lifting him up from the floor into a bridal fashion in his arms.

Now, Bruce felt like shit. He let his emotions get the better of him, which had been happening since he'd gotten pregnant, and which he loathed—though not more than he loathed every single bitch out there who had thought, was thinking, and would think, and those who had done, was doing, would do any kind of flirting or doing anything they would assume would get Clark to fuck them. Not only that, but he put their baby in danger. Getting angry and forgetting that he had oil on his feet and to put on slippers—Bruce wasn't going to forgive himself.

Clark brought Bruce back to their room, and set him down gently on the bed. "You're okay," said Clark, scanning Bruce for any sign of injury. Thankfully, nothing was too off, only that Bruce's right foot was probably forced a little too much, but not sprained or twisted, from his weight and the slip. The baby was completely fine, his fast heartbeat ringing loudly in Clark's ears.

"My foot hurts," Bruce admitted reluctantly in a whisper.

"It's fine, nothing's wrong," Clark kissed his forehead, and sat on the edge of the bed. "You just need to keep off it the rest of the day,"

"The baby?" Bruce looked up at him.

"He's okay," Clark smiled earnestly at him. "Thank heaven you're both okay,"

Bruce pulled him into a tight hug. The whole thing wasn't much, but both of them got quite a scare. They didn't want Bruce going into labor four weeks early, or injuring the unborn baby. Bruce didn't know why he felt so scared either. Going into a warehouse with a dozen or so armed men didn't faze him.

Clark returned the embrace, and was glad and relieved his mate and child were unharmed. When Bruce let go and kept his arms on Clark's shoulders, he gave him a light kiss on the lips. "We're okay?"

"No," said Bruce, "Not until you get me some really nice Japanese curry,"

Clark gave a hearty chuckle. "Yeah, a roundtrip to Tokyo won't take long," he pressed their foreheads together. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way, Bruce,"

"I know you are," Bruce frowned. "If someone decides to even look at you the next time we're out, I'm going to have fun skinning them alive, and you won't be able to stop me,"

"I won't stop you," said Clark, "I am proud to have a possessive mate,"

"Shut up," Bruce put his head on Clark's shoulder and made himself comfortable in his husband's arms. "And make that vegetarian pasta for dinner. Put bacon in it,"

Clark laughed. "Anything you want,"

(1) When my mom had my brother, all the nurses thought he was going to be like ten pounds because of how big my mom was. They had to Caesarian him out because they were scared of I forgot what but they took my brother out and there was so much water and he was only like 8 pounds. The excess water wasn't from any illness. My mother and brother were healthy and fine. :3