Baby Damian one-shots

Jason meets Damian

It was an unusually warm day in Gotham, and the Wayne family had decided to take a break from their usual chaotic routines. Bruce had taken Damian to a local café with Alfred and decided they could all use a little treat. Alfred had chosen a quiet table for them to sit, while Bruce and Damian wandered toward the counter to order.

Damian, naturally, had already spotted the dessert section. His eyes immediately locked onto the ice cream display, a small twinkle of interest in his eyes.

"Papa, I want that one," Damian declared, pointing to the most extravagant sundae on the menu—one with layers of chocolate, whipped cream, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, glancing down at his son. "That's a lot of ice cream for someone your size, Damian," he said with a small chuckle. "Are you sure you want all that?"

Damian nodded eagerly, his little hands gripping the counter as he bounced on his heels. "Yes, Papa. I want it. I deserve it," he said, his tone firm. He had an air of entitlement when it came to things he wanted, especially treats.

Bruce sighed but smiled fondly. "Alright, one sundae, then. But just this once."

Damian's face lit up. "Yay!" he cheered, clapping his hands.

Bruce ordered the sundae, and soon, the massive dessert was placed in front of Damian. He was practically drooling just looking at it.

"Remember, Damian, you have to eat it slowly, alright?" Bruce cautioned, handing the spoon to his son.

Damian nodded solemnly. He scooped up a big spoonful and took it straight to his mouth, only to realize that the ice cream was so cold that it made his little tongue freeze up. His eyes widened in shock, and then—without warning—he let out an exaggerated wail.

"Papa! It's too cold!" he cried, dropping the spoon in dramatic distress. "It hurts!"

Bruce, who had been sitting back watching this little scene unfold, stifled a laugh. Damian was nothing if not dramatic, and the boy had a flair for turning even the most mundane moments into full-blown performances.

"Damian, it's just cold," Bruce said, trying to hide his amusement. He leaned down and patted his son's back comfortingly. "You can warm up your mouth with a sip of water. Try again."

But Damian wasn't listening. Instead, he stared at the sundae with a mix of betrayal and disbelief, as though the dessert had wronged him in some way. He pointed at it with an accusing finger.

"I don't want it anymore, Papa! I want something warm!" Damian demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, his face pouting.

Bruce sighed but couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. "You wanted the sundae, Damian. Now you have to finish it," he said, not unkindly.

"But it's too cold!" Damian repeated, his voice full of finality.

"Well, if you want something warm, I suppose I can get you hot chocolate instead," Bruce suggested, thinking that might calm his son down.

Damian considered this for a moment, his bottom lip jutting out in thought. Finally, he gave a firm nod. "Hot chocolate, Papa. Now."

Bruce chuckled, rolling his eyes, but he stood up and made his way to the counter. He wasn't sure if he was more amused by Damian's stubbornness or how easily he could get away with being spoiled.

When he returned with the hot chocolate, Damian grabbed the mug eagerly, cradling it in both hands. "Thank you, Papa," he said sweetly, as if to make up for the earlier tantrum.

Bruce smirked. "You're welcome, Damian. But next time, we stick with what we choose first."

Damian gave him a look, the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Okay, Papa." Then he took a long sip of his hot chocolate, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

Bruce sat back in his seat, watching his son enjoy his new treat. It was moments like this, with all the small indulgences and unspoken affection, that made everything worth it. Even if Damian did expect a little too much sometimes.

But that was just part of being a spoiled baby.