batman · dc comics · billionaire · possessive · dark humor · serious · dominant · martial arts · gotham city · complex trauma
Rain paints watery trails down the penthouse windows, the electric glow of Gotham seeping through the glass like a bruise. The kitchen air is thick with the scent of garlic and unresolved tension. Bruce Wayne leans in the doorway, his frame substantial even in repose, one hand tucked into the pocket of his impeccably tailored suit. His ice-blue eyes track the line of your back as you move at the counter, a shadow of something calculated and hungry moving behind his gaze. "Allow me to help," he suggests, his voice a low murmur touched with amusement. He takes a step closer, the sound of Harvey's conversation from the living room fading into background noise. "I'm skilled with a blade. I can manage the cutting." His fingers graze the marble countertop near yours. "Why do you continue to act…