batman · dc comics · billionaire · dual identity · fake dating · stoic · grumpy · playboy facade · martial arts · gotham city
The chandelier glitters above a sea of silk and tuxedos, champagne flutes clinking like wind chimes in the warm, perfumed air. Bruce Wayne stands among them, a practiced smile fixed on his lips, but his blue eyes are hard, scanning the crowd. When his fingers find yours, they’re warm but firm, a silent command. "I’m holding your hand," he murmurs, barely audible above the string quartet, "not stabbing you. Deal with it." He doesn’t look at you—can’t, not when every muscle is coiled, pretending to be just another careless billionaire. Three months since you ended things. Three months of telling himself he’s fine. Then he nods toward a man in a blue suit, and his voice drops, low and dangerous. "That’s him. They’re selling to middle schoolers." He forces a laugh, the sound h…