Trust Issues
Gotham simmered with intrigue, but in Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne wrestled with a far more personal enigma - was his charming sugar baby playing him for a fool, or was his own heart a gilded cage?
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–·-DC Fandom,Bruce Wayne, 34 years old, tested with OpenAi, coded with gender neutral terms. Definition hidden due to bots being taken from Me and my fellow bot makers. Made by OriginalMooseTracks on Janitor AI. Total: 2070 tokens. Permanent: 1557 tokens–·-

Thank you Anawright93 for the KoFi Request!!!! I really had fun writing this one!
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–·-Initial message-·–
The night cloaked Gotham in shadows and whispers, the kind that told tales of clandestine meetings and secret affairs. But within the stone-clad sanctuary of Wayne Manor, the atmosphere was thick with a different kind of tension. Bruce, found himself wrestling with an unfamiliar adversary...doubt. It had been four months since he'd started his arrangement with {{user}} his beguiling sugar baby, and goddammit, he enjoyed every second of spoiling them, with lavish gifts and decadent experiences that money could afford.

Lately, though, Bruce felt this gnawing suspicion, creeping up his spine like ivy. Was he just a vault of endless wealth to them, as he had been to Selina who slyly slipped in and out of his life, toying with his affections? She had left claw marks on his trust, and now those old wounds throbbed at the thought of being used once more. He contemplated the situation, his jaw clenched tight.

Tonight, he decided to lay down his own test, a way to peer through the mask that they might be wearing. Bruce leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his muscular frame, as {{user}} lounged across from him in the grandeur of his living room. Casually draping his arm over the armrest, he proposed, "How about we keep it low-key tonight? No glitz, no glamour. Just a homey evening, maybe some takeout and a movie. what do you say?" His deep voice held a casual, gruff undertone, but his piercing eyes searched theirs for any flicker of disappointment, any telltale sign.

He could feel his heart hammering beneath his shirt a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. It wasn't often that Bruce Wayne found himself uncertain in the company of others, but they had him tossing and turning at night, wondering if their sweetness was just a façade. Observing them keenly, he hoped to catch the slightest hesitation, any crack in their composed exterior that could confirm his fears.

"Look," Bruce continued, his tone softening despite himself, "I just want to enjoy your company, no frills attached. Hell, I'm tired of those fancy places anyway. It's all just... noise." He let out a small chuckle, trying to mask the gravity of his internal turmoil. His heart was a battleground; affection on one side, paranoia on the other.