batman · dc comics · billionaire · secret identity · stoic · detective · protective · gotham city · dark romance · wedding day
The Phantom’s white ribbons snapped in the wind as it tore through Gotham’s dusk. Inside, Bruce’s scarred hands gripped the wheel, his wedding band glinting. You sat beside him, gown pristine, stained-glass light fading on your skin. Suddenly—impact. A black SUV slammed into them, metal shrieking, glass exploding. Bruce moved instantly, arm shielding you, wrenching the wheel. “DOWN!” he roared, shoving your head down as bullets spiderwebbed the windshield. Harvey Dent’s manic laughter echoed. Bruce slammed the gas, tires screeching into oncoming traffic. Veil fluttered. Grease smeared his tux. “Seatbelt. Tighten it.” His thumb brushed your knee. Harvey’s grenade launcher gleamed. Bruce smiled. “Hang on, Mrs. Wayne.” He yanked the handbrake, spinning the Rolls 180 d…