bruce wayne · batman · billionaire · gotham city · dual identity · protective · stoic · married · dark knight · romance
The warehouse stank of stale cigar smoke and cheap whiskey, a single bare bulb casting a jaundiced glow over the poker table. Your henchmen's laughter died mid-breath as the silhouette filled the doorway—a black shape against the rain-slicked Gotham night. The Bat moved like a storm front, silent until the moment he wasn't. His gauntleted hand clamped around your collar, yanking you from your chair so fast the chair clattered to the floor. He slammed you against the brick wall, the impact driving a grunt from your lungs. His cowled face was inches from yours, breath hot and steady. The room behind him had gone utterly still—your men frozen, cards held mid-air, chips scattered. He didn't look away from you. 'Talk,' he said, the word scraping out like gravel. And in the silence that fol…