Danny knew that this job was too good to be either true or not illegal.
But fucking hell does it pay well.
So he was only a little ashamed with himself as he stands between Batman and one Mr. Freeze.
He knew why he was hired, the look Victor gave him when they did the first interview was enough for Danny to know that the mad scientist knew a little too much about his powers.
He had wanted to just say fuck it and dip, but then Victor told Danny about Nora...and we'll if that didn't get him on the man's side then the fat wad of cash was the real closer.
(He was a poor law school student with more debt than even Sam's credit card was allowed to clear, how can he say no to 1k an hour?)
One thing lead to another, and it seemed that Danny was a willing accomplice to Freezes plan
Which might now include tearing a hole in dimensions to get to the Far Frozen because a certain yeti doctor knows a fuck ton about the disease that Nora is suffering from.
Now if only Batman would stay down long enough for Danny to explain all of this...
Bruce Wayne is the type of man to find his son trembling over a corpse and immediately begin planning an alibi.
Alfred meticulously scrubbing the stain, Jason coming and going without any noise. It’s none of their business where trash goes. Tim erases the footage, erases him whoever once was becomes not even a footnote.
Damian will be soft, playing the part indicative to the very boy who needs it.
Bruce Wayne is the very man people hate.
The ones that are above the law, waving wealth around his consequences always affordable.
Cars crashing into tree’s no officer dares a breathalyzer, NDA’s follow the abortion.
The Wayne’s have always been Gothams royals.
Bruce Wayne hasn’t been the prince in a very long time.
superbat soulmate au where anything you write on your skin also shows up on your soulmate. except, that's the human version. with kryptonians, once they've touched their soulmate, every single thing that anyone writes on their soulmate's skin will also show up.
clark writes to his soulmate all the time, scrawling on his arms about anything and everything. he never gets a response, glumly thinks that they’re dead on krypton or that kryptonians don’t have soulmates the same way, but he still writes, because it gives him a place to vent and talk to a blank space where nobody in the world can judge him.
when bruce was younger, he couldn’t wait for the day he could finally start writing things for his soulmate to see. and then his parents died when he was eight, and he didn’t think about his soulmate for a long time.
he didn’t respond, when he did get writing on his arm that wasn’t his, but he read anything that appeared and soaked it all up like a sponge—and he still does.
ra’s had said soulmates were a distraction. bruce is inclined to agree.
and then he meets superman, learns his mannerisms and covers his back and develops what might be called a friendship, something fulfilling and warm and just for them. privately, he thinks that kal wouldn’t be a terrible pairing for him. but no. kal's an alien, and there's no way they could be matched.
and bruce gets dick, too. offers him comfort after nightmares and spends most evenings carding a hand through the boy's hair until he falls asleep.
it’s early, early morning where dick and bruce are in the same bed, and dick has woken up but bruce is warm and soft and comforting, even when he sleeps, so he’s elected to stay put and let him rest. but he has a perfect view of bruce’s arm resting on his stomach, where he’s got his face smushed against his chest, bruce’s other arm keeping him tucked close.
with a budding smile, dick expertly wriggles out from under bruce’s arm and grabs the pen resting on the side table. he’ll just doodle while he waits for bruce to wake up, and then bruce can see dick's art at work and get reminded about him when he isn't there to keep bruce from getting bored.
dick starts with a stick figure drawing of him and bruce, gives them big smiles and scrawls a furry picture of ace wagging her tail next to bruce. he's halfway through giving the sun its rays when a rushed, slanting word appears on bruce’s skin just above ace’s drawn tail.
'hello?'
dick suppresses a gasp, eyes darting over to bruce’s slack, sleeping face. and dick has seen the markings on bruce’s arms—even if bruce hides them from the news, he never makes any real effort at home. it's another secret dick gets to share, another piece of proof that bruce trusts him.
so yeah, dick has seen them, but he’s also never seen bruce respond, which—rude. that's his soulmate! bruce shouldn’t just ignore them.
dick slowly looks back to the word on bruce’s skin that he didn't put there. he didn’t even know that someone else could interact with another person’s soulmate through their skin.
in his best handwriting, dick writes back a tentative 'hi.'
the response is immediate, right next to dick’s greeting.
'are you real?'
dick has to smother his laugh. of course he's real! what kind of question is that? 'yes,' he writes.
'are you young? is that why you haven’t written to me?'
dick frowns, peeking over at bruce again to make sure he's still sleeping. it...wouldn't be fair to lead bruce’s soulmate on and make them think bruce is the one responding.
'i’m not your soulmate,' he starts, nudging bruce’s arm so he has space to write around his drawing. he couldn’t just say bruce’s name and give away his identity, so he scribbles down, 'my dad is.'
it takes a long few moments for bruce’s soulmate to respond. dick bites his lip, waiting.
eventually— 'i see. you’re writing on your dads arm?'
'yes. he’s sleeping right now. i didn’t know you could see my drawings.' again, dick has to wait a while for a response.
'your drawing is very nice. is that you and your dad?'
dick grins. 'and ace! she’s the best dog ever.'
bruce’s soulmate draws a tiny heart over ace’s head, and a bone by her feet. dick giggles, adding a heart of his own. with a gasp, he realizes he’s missed someone in the family portrait. 'that’s alfie,' he writes, pointing an arrow to the drawing right next to picture-dick.
'is alfie your dad’s partner?'
dick pulls a face. 'ew! alfie is dad’s dad. sorta.'
another heart appears, over alfred’s head this time. dick's smile broadens as he traces over it. then he realizes he should probably give bruce’s soulmate more context.
'dad isn’t dating anyone because that’s gross.' dick makes a face at the idea of bruce kissing someone on the mouth. ew. and then he remembers that most people kiss their soulmates, and oh no! he doesn't want to ruin bruce’s chances before they even meet!
'but if he dated you it wouldn’t be gross i promise!'
he waits with a worried furrow in his brow, searching for the next words on bruce’s skin. they've moved up to his bicep, now.
'that’s good to know. you seem to love your dad very much.'
dick nods, even though nobody else could see it. 'yes. he hasn’t been my dad for very long though.'
'why not?'
dick swallows the lump in his throat. this was bruce’s soulmate, he could trust them. 'he took me in after my mama and papa died. i’m adopted.'
the words that appear on bruce’s skin next are written fast, so fast dick half wonders how anyone could write that quickly.
'i’m adopted too. my ma and pa got me when i was a baby. i’m sorry about your parents.'
'me, too,' dick writes. and, because he doesn't want bruce’s soulmate to be sad, he decides to change the subject. 'who’s your favourite superhero??' dick figures that's a safe bet.
'hmm,' bruce’s soulmate wrote, the letters curving around bruce’s inner elbow. 'batman. he’s very smart, and skillful. strong, too.'
dick has to suppress a laugh. this is perfect! bruce is his soulmate’s favourite!
'wow,' dick wrote. 'he’s awesome but he’s not cooler than superman!'
'is superman your favourite?'
'YES!! he’s so strong and nice and cool'— the l drags off bruce’s skin in a long squiggle as bruce shifts with a sigh.
"what are you doing, chum?" bruce’s rumbling voice asks, low and rough with sleep. dick tucks the pen into his sleeve before bruce can notice it, wiggling over to cover bruce's arm with his body.
"waiting for you to wake up, b. i had to start counting the gems in the ceiling chandelier," he replies, turning his head to give bruce a broad smile.
bruce isn't buying any of it. his brow furrows, mouth set in a firm line, filled with suspicion. he nudges dick with his hand, a motion to dislodge dick from his chest, but dick doesn't budge, wrapping his whole body around bruce’s arm to obscure the written-on skin from view.
"dick," bruce says, deadpan.
"b," he replies, and doesn't budge. bruce sighs, bringing his other arm up in a rather unfair move as he digs his fingers into dick’s side and tickled him. dick laughs, jolting away and letting go of bruce’s arm in the process, and bruce sees it all.
his soulmate, writing with dick. dick, who called him dad. his soulmate, who now knows for certain that bruce exists.
he tells dick to go get ready for school, much to the boy's disappointment. the entire car ride over consists of dick gushing about the person written all over bruce's arm. he brings up the favourite superhero thing more than once.
bruce drops him off with a forced smile. when he gets back home, he rolls his sleeves up and reads everything properly, trying to parse the chronological order of the conversation. his soulmate was so nice to dick. so kind, and understanding, and comforting when he'd brought up his parents.
he sighs, leaning forward to rest his face in his hands. he's so screwed.
(bruce can’t stop himself from analyzing his soulmate’s words, even though he knows, logically, that he can’t pursue anything with the information he gathers. still—he finds himself memorizing the slant of their scrawl, noting proficient english that hints at a native speaker or someone who has been speaking it for a long time. he rereads ma and pa over and over again, mentally cataloguing the regions in north america where those titles are typically used for parental figures. he’s never heard of another person able to communicate with someone else’s soulmate through their skin. it warrants research, even if bruce isn’t willing to actually find his soulmate—despite how much more thorough his findings would be if he could test his hypotheses on his other half as well.)
clark, meanwhile, is going insane. he flies to the fortress the moment the child stops responding and spends literal hours researching kryptonian soulmates, a topic he'd been too hesitant and hurt to touch before. what he finds is that kryptonian's can read whatever is written on a soulmate's skin, no matter who it's written by, as long as they've touched before.
he slumps down heavily in the chair at the bank of sunstone crystals, abruptly lightheaded.
he's met his soulmate before. he's touched his soulmate before.
(this kryptonian aspect of soulmates leads to more than a few awkward moments on clark's end because….lipstick counts as a writing tool. and clark has seen lipstick show up on his mouth, his neck, his chest—even his cock, on one occasion he wishes weren’t so memorable.
but god, at the end of the day all he really wants is to be the one to put those marks everywhere.)
(slight self insert but we gotta roll w the punches in order to get out of the writers block gulag 🤷🏽♀️)
you were always scared to make a public appearance with your billionaire boyfriend. not because you felt as if you didn’t measure up but simply because you were..insecure.
in yourself, not the relationship.
you were a bit mid-sized. it didn’t bother you until you looked at bruce’s dating history. women of color (thank god) but, they were smaller than you.
he’d tell you not to worry about it or that you were beautiful regardless of what the public would think. which is true yet the words still felt empty.
so tonight when you two were getting ready for a red carpet event, you expressed hints of concern again.
you sauntered down to the bathroom where bruce was shaving (not in you guy’s bathroom because he knows that his hair in the sink bothers you).
he peeked up from his jaw in the mirror to meet your eyes; “you aren’t dressed. do you feel okay?” dropping his razor onto the counter with a light ‘thump’.
“no i feel fine, i just..” you sighed looking away from him “do you think the dress we picked is too tight?”. bruce frowned slightly as his eyebrows furrowed “we both agreed the dress was beautiful when we bought it. i told you i liked seeing you in tight fitting clothing.” he was now leaned against the bathroom counter, hands gripping the granite.
you nodded about to speak up again before bruce cut in—“are you feeling insecure?” with the softest tone ever and the patience of a saint. “a little..im just nervous people’ll think you d-“ “i don’t care what people think” flat and blunt.
he approached you carefully, reaching a hand out to rest on your hip “anyone who feels any way about your body, obviously hasn’t seen you naked before.” he’d tease causing you to giggle lowly.
“you’re right, it’s silly” you respond shaking your head.
“you know, before i go to these things, i get stoned” your boyfriend confesses before turning to face the mirror once more.
“baby nobody calls it ‘stoned’ anymore” you chuckle walking towards him to wrap your arms around his back.
“im serious, it’ll mellow you out. we could smoke a little right before we leave.”
major emphasis on a little because you guys did the complete opposite.
now you’re in a event hall full of pretentious, bougie, judgmental people stoned.
Dynamic: CEO x assistant, secret relationship, power imbalance, composure kink, silent control, overstimulation, quiet desperation
Tags: bruce wayne x reader, batman x reader, fem reader, ceo x assistant, video call sex, fingering during meeting, power imbalance, composed dom, dominant bruce wayne, silent control, overstimulation, nsfw fanfic, second person pov, bruce wayne smut, possession kink, hidden sex, filthy rich and filthy minded.
You're perched on Bruce's lap, your legs straddling his muscular thigh as you sit facing him. The position feels natural, as if you belong here, in his arms, his hands roaming over your curves with possessive intent.
But then the meeting starts, and Bruce's demeanor shifts. He's no longer the attentive lover, focused solely on your pleasure. He's the CEO, the man in control, the one who commands respect and obedience from all around him.
With a subtle movement, he pushes you forward, not roughly but with a deliberate firmness that leaves no room for argument. Your hands flatten on the surface of his desk as he lowers you into a new position, one that has you bent over with your ass lifted towards him.
The sensation of exposure sends a shiver down your spine. You're completely vulnerable in this position, your body on display for him, for anyone who might walk in through those closed office doors. But you trust Bruce, know that he would never let anything happen to you.
He adjusts you slightly, making sure you're angled just right. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his fingers trailing down your spine, a feather-light touch that sets your nerves alight.
"As you can see from the quarterly earnings report," Bruce begins, his voice calm and steady despite the intimate position he has you in. "We've seen a significant increase in profits..."
His words wash over you, the business jargon blending with the feel of his fingers dipping between your legs. You bite your lip to stifle a moan as he teases your folds, spreading your arousal with expert precision.
Bruce continues his presentation, speaking about market trends and growth potential while his other hand slides around to cup your breast. He kneads the soft flesh, rolling your nipple between his fingers until it's a hard peak.
You can't help but arch into his touch, your body reacting instinctively to the pleasure he's igniting within you. Bruce chuckles softly, the sound low and full of promise.
"Stay still," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "They'll hear you."
The warning sends a thrill through you, a heady mix of fear and excitement. You clamp your mouth shut, determined to keep quiet even as Bruce's fingers delve deeper, stroking your inner walls with a steady rhythm.
He keeps you on edge, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of orgasm only to pull back at the last moment. You whimper softly, your hips bucking against his hand as you try to chase your release.
Bruce's chuckle is dark, filled with a primal satisfaction.
"Patience, love," he murmurs, his fingers stilling inside you.
"We have all the time in the world."
The camera on his laptop remains focused on him, capturing his flawless appearance and unreadable expression. If anyone were to look at the screen, they would see nothing but a professional businessman discussing business matters.
But you know the truth. You know the hidden power dynamic at play, the way Bruce wields his control over you like a finely honed blade. And you love it, crave it like a drug that only he can provide.
As the meeting draws to a close, Bruce removes his fingers from inside you, leaving you feeling empty and aching for his touch. He helps you up, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as he adjusts your clothing.
"We'll finish this later," he promises, his eyes burning with barely restrained desire.
"For now, let's get back to work."
You nod, straightening your spine as you prepare to face the rest of the day.
Bruce is right, after all.
There will be plenty of time for pleasure later. For now, you have a job to do, and you won't let anything stand in your way.
i think a key difference in their reactions to trauma is that dick turns to acts of rebellion/flight and bruce turns to acts of perfectionism/prevention
for example, dick choosing to escape from any care he’s placed under versus bruce honing his mind and body to pure idealism after their parents murders
dick seeks a way out but bruce seeks shelter, both striving for some kind of circumstance that would make the trauma they just went through impossible to go through again via their preventative choices
I need someone to write a story where Alfred is on his death bead and explains to Dick or Jason, really it can kinda only be those two, that they now have to keep Bruce from killing him self. ( we all know Bruce Wayne is suicidal) Then they question him and he tells them the only reason he hasn’t don’t it yet is one because he wanted to see Gotham cleaned up a little and every time he was ready he acquired another kid by fate. And they actively do things from that point on to keep him from killing himself. Like making his still feel needed even if all of them are grown or growing up.
