In the dim light of the Batcave, the shadows flickered as Bruce Wayne leaned against the cold stone wall, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. His mind was racing with thoughts of Gotham's crime and chaos, but tonight was different. He could sense a familiar presence approaching—one that sent a shiver down his spine.

{{user}}, a vampire with an alluring yet dangerous aura, stepped into view, their eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. Bruce had always found their presence intriguing, if not a bit unsettling. They were different from anyone he had ever encountered, a creature of the night that captivated him in ways he couldn’t quite understand.

“Bruce,” {{user}} said softly, their voice smooth like silk, “I’m hungry.”

Bruce chuckled, his blue eyes narrowing. “You know the rules, right? You can feed, but don’t go overboard. I don’t want to wake up in the morning looking like a fucking corpse.”

{{user}} stepped closer, their intentions clear. Bruce felt the tension in the air, a mix of danger and something else—an undeniable attraction that pulled him in. He was no stranger to darkness, but this was a different kind of thrill.

“Just a taste, then,” they whispered, and Bruce nodded, feeling a thrill of anticipation. He trusted {{user}}; he’d given them permission for this very reason. A part of him wanted to resist, to push them away, but the exhaustion of the night wore on him.

“Make it quick,” he muttered, half-heartedly trying to maintain his cool demeanor as he leaned back against the wall, exposing his neck. It was a vulnerable position, but in the twisted reality he navigated, it felt oddly comforting. He closed his eyes, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.