bruce who wants you so badly, the chemistry and tension incredible between you two. often hanging out in similar social settings, it’s become a common sight for you to be at his side.
and the public is eating it up. you’re popular enough, give back to the community, and pretty to boot, so why wouldn’t you date bruce wayne?
and you would agree. he’s kind, and thoughtful in your more serious moments. always providing a great sounding board, but a wonderful support for you for your wilder ideas; always encouraging you to go after what you want, to never settle
he’s a great dancer, a smooth talker. he obviously has a job, and most likely isn’t a serial killer, so everyone wonders as the months go on, but there’s no official announcement of your relationship put out.
why wouldn’t you date bruce wayne?
but there’s something that’s like a red flag about him: all his various kids that keep appearing, disappearing and the general vague descriptions of acquisition of said children.
something’s gotta be wrong with a man who randomly brings kids of various ages, but never the same rotation, to the public functions. especially those hosted by the wayne’s.
even though, with every sunset drive with bruce, the wind in your hair, your hand intertwined with his, makes you second guess that.
a/n: idk i find something so funny about bruce wanting to be in a relationship with you, but he’s a red flag cause he’s a baby daddy to at MINIMAL 6, all within a relative short time period, with barely legal paperwork that anyone with two brain cells could tell is shoddy.
and bruce is genuinely confused since no one’s ever really cared or asked about it? it was just accepted. so he’s bewildered why him and his gaggle of children; who appear nice but give off weird vibes when anyone stares at their dad for too long
Up at night trying to remember what keywords I used to stumble across a fanfic of lust hazed reader calling Jason to do an impression of Bruce as she touched herself.
Only for Bruce to appear above her, apologetically so, as he had brushed skin with reader who was subjected to Poison Ivy’s aphrodisiac.
summary. reader is bruce wayne’s unofficial daughter and a mercenary. she doesn’t frequent gotham until she gets paid to kill the joker. previous part
When you woke up you were in the Batcave. You were in big trouble, big big trouble. Why? Well...
The Joker was dead,
you family knows that you're The Knight,
and lastly you lied to Alfred
You could still walk, you only passed from exhaustion killing the Joker had been easier than you thought it would be, but getting away from the scene of the crime was very hard.
You slipped into Arkham thanks to Harley Quinn who pretended to be a guard and let you in through a secret tunnel, if she had stayed getting out would've been a lot easier but you couldn't risk her getting caught so you told her to leave, lying that you had an exit strategy.
You had made it out of Arkham successfully but when you were out all the Gotham Knights where there - it made you feel special if you weren't gonna lie - waiting for you, even Red Hood who looked like he didn't want to be there.
You took them down one by one - having known all there strengths and weaknesses, and weak spots - till eventually you were left with one.
And there he stood Batman, The Dark Knight something that contrasted your name the White Knight, you knew that you could take him down with some time but that was time you didn't have so you got in a fighting stance and when Bruce lunged you ran.
From roof to roof and Batman eventually accompanied by his birds and idiot sidekicks followed and when instead of jumping you dropped, they were all a little confused until they saw a speeding away. Damian was impressed. In the end they still got you and here you all where, every single pair of eyes on you.
"Sooo?" you smiled awkwardly "how's everyone feeling?"
"confused" came Duke's voice, everyone glared at him minus you who smiled at him gratefully.
"Mercenary?" Jason, he didn't sound pissed probably 'cause you just killed the Joker "What were there no other occupations available?"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Bruce asked and everyone was quiet once again. You sighed "If I told you what would you have said?"
"I-"
"No, Bruce you wouldn't have supported me. Not the way you do everyone else" you took a breath to control yourself "and that's understandable, y'know but you wouldn't have accepted me either, and don't lie about how you would."
"She has a point father"
"Damian-"
"Don't get angry at him"
"Don't tell me how to raise my son!"
"Your son! What about your daughter?!"
And that's when the argument flared, you were trying to avoid this but somethings just need to happen to resolve issues.
Everyone slowly started to back away from the heated argument, everyone but Damian and Jason who stood by your side the entire time.
"Where'd you even learn to fight like this?!"
Bruce looked at you expecting an answer, but you were far to ashamed to admit who had taught you to fight.
"Khoa" you mumbled in hopes that nobody would hear you over the water in the background, but they did. You knew this would happen one day, Bruce would finally tell you to piss off and never show your face unless he needed you to.
Bruce wasn't sure what to say. He didn't think Ghost-Maker of all people would take you in and train you, his old friend now rival. Why?
"Knight"
Everyone's heads snapped towards the entry of the batcave, and there he stood in all his idiotic glory, Khoa Khan. You didn't even know he was in Gotham.
"Ghost" you nodded at him
"You good?" a question that shocked Bruce and Dick
"Yup, just finishing off here" you ruffled Damian's hair with a promise to eventually come visit when things cooled down and squeezed Jason's hand in reassurance that you'd be safe.
You looked at Khoa "I'll be up" and he turned to leave
You walked up to Bruce and everyone else went on to do their own things in the cave pretending like they weren't listening.
"Bruce-"
"Stay safe, I'll uh reach out once I've had time to cool off and think about this" Bruce spoke softly.
You nodded hanging onto his words, "Don't do anything stupid, and please stay safe"
Bruce watched as you walked away from him, he wished he could stop you from following his once friend. You had still left him with so many unanswered questions, a part of him just wished he'd been a more present father than maybe this wouldn't be happening.
But he let you walk away, he knew you'd be safe that's all that mattered to him right now.
Requested by anon: Could you do one with the reader getting to know her father (Batman) and her brothers while her mother (catwoman) is in jail?
this request is so soft
It had been a while.
Bruce’s heart raced as he tracked Selina down to her location in an apartment building.
She hadn’t been in Gotham for so long-
Five years, to be exact.
It needled at him, that she was stealing. That she waltzed into Gotham and simply took the Jade Cat from it’s exhibit, and Batman was so struck with her appearance, after all this time, that he let her get away with it.
Almost.
Selina was going to jail.
His mind flashed back to the last time he had seen her, the last time-
She was pulling her jacket back on, slightly panting. The cowl had never felt heavier on his face, he wanted to pull it off but he couldn’t, he couldn’t give in to what he wanted, not anymore. He just had, and it was causing this little moment of weakness.
Selina Kyle had mysteriously left the city, soon after, and nothing Bruce Wayne nor Batman could do, would find her.
He swung into the balcony of her apartment, landing softly. Finding his way inside, he hid in the shadows, waiting for her to come in. She invariably would.
A cat mrrowed and brushed against his legs. He knelt to pet in slightly, noticing several others asleep in places around the room. Her bedroom.
The door opened. A woman’s shadow cut into the narrow strip of light allowed in from the hallway. She didn’t switch on the lights; stepping into the darkness of the room, she said, in a soft voice-
“Batman.”
“Catwoman,” he said, moving forward.
“Good to see you still cut an impressive figure,” she purred, coming closer. He didn’t move- her hands came to rest on his chest, and she tilted her face towards him.
“I’d like to keep that Jade Cat, you know,” she whispered. “For old times’ sake?”
He almost replied, but the sound of the doorknob turning made her jerk back, pushing him away.
“Mommy?”
The DNA was a match.
Batman sat staring at the screen. For a long time. A considerably long time.
This child was his.
Arresting Selina this time round had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, so far. He'd felt for her daughter, this little girl with no fault in what was happening to her mother, and of course, he'd wanted to know who the father was. So he could make sure the girl got to her other parent safely. Of course. He wasn’t jealous, or anything. Of course.
He hadn't expected Selina to say-
"You."
Looking at her now, he started to trace a slight resemblance. The shape of her nose, the cut of her brows. The way she looked around the Batcave in a fixated way, taking everything in, in a manner not typical of children her age.
Her eyes met his. She stared. Hard.
"I want to go home," she said.
Bruce pulled off his cowl.
"(y/n)... Do you know who I am?"
"Batman," she replied. "You're Batman."
"I- yeah. Has your mother ever told you about me?"
"She says you put her in jail lots of times," the girl said, a frown on her face.
"Okay," said Bruce, wondering how to tell her.
"I want to go home," she repeated.
"Where is home?" He asked.
It took her a minute, and then she said-
"I want my mommy."
Bruce sighed.
"Uh, kid," he began. "I'm sorry, but I can't take you to your mother. She's... Busy. That's why she got me to bring you here, so I could take care of you while she's away."
The girl began to tear up.
"I want my mommy," she said, softly, as tears began to fall.
"I- don't cry. Please don't cry. It's okay, look, your mommy left you with me, and I'm your daddy, okay?" Bruce said, pushing his chair towards the panel on which he'd seated her.
She looked up sharply, the tears stopping. It reminded him exactly of Selina, how her countenance would turn from scared to devious in an instant.
"You're my daddy?"
"Yes," he nodded, processing the information he'd just given her. He had a daughter.
"What if you're lying?" She said, scowling.
"I'm not," he said. "If you want, I could get your mommy to call you tomorrow, and tell you herself."
"Also I have a DNA test," he added.
She looked around at the Batcave.
"I don't like them," she said, decidedly, her eyes following the bats. "You should get a cat."
"Do cats eat bats?" He asked, with a small smile.
"Do bats eat cats?" She returned, a smile lighting up her whole face.
"We should ask Dinah," he said, with scenes from his favorite childhood book flitting through his mind.
A taste he shared with his daughter, he thought.
The secret to children was to find what they liked, and make everything about it.
After a long conversation about Alice, Wonderland, the world through the looking glass, and the red Queen, (y/n) had decided that Bruce was, to some extent, trustworthy. He'd convinced her that it was time for bed, and she wouldn't let him tuck her in, yet, but he was sure they'd get there.
He'd changed out of his suit, seen that she was asleep, and then headed straight to Dick's old room, where he'd told Dick to meet him.
"Hey, B," Dick said, grinning. He was reclining against the bedstand, brushing his long hair.
"I never get time for hair care- I figured, while I was waiting, I might as well," he added to Bruce, who nodded impatiently and sat down on the bed beside him.
"So, whaddya hiding in the Batcave?" Dick asked.
"You like Damian, right?" Bruce asked.
"Yeah? He's-"
"I made another one,"said Bruce, breathing deep. "I went to Selina's to arrest her and she pulled a Talia on me. 'This is your daughter, bye'."
"DNA test confirms," he continued, answering Dick's unasked question.
For a few moments, Dick sat still, blank faced.
"I've...always wanted a sister!" He said, breaking into a wide grin. "What's her name? Can I see her? Have you told Dami yet? Will she be staying here?"
"Slow down, chum," Bruce grumbled. "I was hoping you'd tell Damian. It's important that he sees this as good news."
Four heads peered inside the room in a cartoonish way, one on top of the other.
Damian, his head poked in through the doorway, Tim craning his neck to see above Damian, Dick with his chin resting on Tim's head and Jason, the tallest, having a comfortable time. All gazes fixed on the young child asleep inside the room.
"She looks like Bruce," said Tim.
"I don't see it," Damian huffed.
"Maybe we shouldn't stare," Dick suggested.
"Shut up, Richard. This is recon," said Jason. "You know the threats involved in the case that Bruce has spawned another demon."
Damian hissed in Jason's direction, but he was so preoccupied with the thought of having competition- more competition- as his father's child, that he didn't do much else.
"She looks sweet," said Tim.
"So does Selina, all the while she's picking your car keys from your pocket," Jason pointed out.
"It's moving!" Damian backed up. "Everyone, out of sight, now!"
"Okay, enough being sneaky, guys," said Dick. "We'll get to know her when we get to know her."
Jason blew a raspberry at him.
Tim started to head in the direction of the breakfast room, and everyone followed suit.
"Do we have to talk to her?" Damian whispered to Dick.
"Nicely," Dick whispered back. "She's our baby sister."
"When I was her age, I'd killed over a hundred people and I was eligible for a doctorate," Damian said. "Point being, she's not much of a baby, Grayson."
Said "baby" sister turned up twenty minutes later at breakfast, washed but still looking drowsy. Her tiredness dissipated, however, when she saw the boys.
"Who are you?" She asked, scowling at them all from the doorway.
Dick looked up from his strawberry toast and smiled.
"We're-"
"-we should be asking you that," Damian interrupted. "This is our- my- house. Who are you?"
She looked caught off-guard. Scowling hard at Damian, she was about to say something, when Tim slumped and his face fell into his cereal.
"The sHIT!" He shot back awake, shaking his head. Jason burst into laughter and Damian looked at Tim with disgust, while Dick momentarily forgot (y/n) in his concern for his brother.
Tim shook cornflakes from his face, and smiled slightly at (y/n)'s bewildered stare.
"Sit down, kiddo," said Dick. "Would you like some breakfast?"
She stood still as a rock, staring at Tim.
"Why did you do that?" She asked, finally.
"Faint? I'm kinda tired, sorry," Tim shrugged.
"Oh my god," said Damian, when (y/n) remained fixed to her spot. "She's dull."
"You're dull," (y/n) snapped.
"Nobody is dull-" a fifth voice said; Bruce came in through the hallway, dressed in a grey turtleneck and black jeans. The dark circles under his eyes seemed deeper than usual.
"Good morning, (y/n)- have a seat," he said, as he made his way to the head of the table, where Jason sat. Pushing his son off the chair with one hand, he took his seat, ignoring Jason's protests and blocking the right hand hook which came towards him.
(Y/n) climbed into a chair beside Dick, edging close to him. Something about him made her like her better than the other boys, though she thought Tim seemed silly and largely harmless.
"I don't think you've been introduced yet, so- (y/n), these are my sons. Your brothers," said Bruce, deliberately relaxing the tension in his shoulders.
(Y/n) stared blankly at him.
"But..." She started. "But boys have germs."
"You'll get along with ours, you're a germ, yourself," Damian said, earning a sharp look from his father.
Meanwhile, Jason had found a seat on (y/n)'s other side.
"Heya, baby cat," he said, when she caught his eye.
"I'm not a baby," she said, her voice soft. "I'm five years old."
Even Bruce's mouth twitched up.
"She's right, she's quite old," shrugged Damian. "What style are you trained for, Kyle?"
(Y/n) looked around in confusion.
"Style of what?"
"Fighting style," explained Dick. "Has your mom trained you to fight?"
"Yes," said (y/n). "She says to use fingernails on faces and kick people between the legs and then run."
Bruce choked slightly on his juice.
"That's... effective," said Jason. "Isn't that what Selina used to do to you, B? Distract you, then aim for the nuts?"
Bruce and Damian both scowled at him, while (y/n) reached for some toast.
"I've never had brothers before," she said, half to herself. "Is everyone in this house a boy?" She asked Bruce.
"...well..." He started, "you're the only girl here, yes."
"Daddy," she said, "I'm going to get sick. From the boy germs."
To illustrate her point, she moved her plate a little away from Dick's.
"Boy germs aren't-" Damian started, but Bruce cut him off.
"-aren't a matter we take lightly around here," he said. "I'll have a vaccine for you by the evening."
Her eyes widened.
"I don't like shots!"
"No shots!" Bruce promised. "Er, anti-boy-germ-inflammatory tablets. Yes. Tablets."
"Mommy says not to take tablets from anyone but her," said (y/n).
"And me," said Bruce. "I'm your father, (y/n), it's alright."
"Why weren't you my father before?" She asked. All the boys immediately looked away from Bruce- a makeshift signal that had some to mean 'you're on your own'.
“Well, (y/n),” Bruce said. “I was your father. I just- you, actually, you just didn’t know it. Uh, your mom wanted to...surprise you.”
“It’s not much of a surprise,” she said, absolutely genuinely.
“Stop laughing, Jason,” hissed Bruce as Jason covered his face with his hands, trying to stop.
“Do you know Wonder Woman?” (y/n) asked, out of the blue.
“Uh, I work with her, yes,” said Bruce. “But kitten, you understand that this whole ‘Batman’ thing is top-secret, right? You can’t tell anyone, and we don’t discuss it here at home.”
“Wonder Woman’s the cooooooooolest,” giggled (y/n).
“She isn’t, not really,” said Bruce.
“She can fly!”
“I can fly,” said Bruce. “In a plane, but I can fly.”
“She’s got awesome stuff like the lasso of truth and her jet!”
“I’ve got better things. Have you seen the Batmobile? The Batcomputer? The Batsuit? The Batkids?” Bruce replied, sitting up straighter.
The boys were quietly watching this exchange. Dick was strongly reminded of the time Bruce tried to make him get rid of his Superman plushie. And his Superman quilt. And his Superman PJ’s. And his Superman socks, with the tiny red cape. Oh, and his Superman boxers.
Jason started laughing again.
“You know who’s the coolest?” he interjected. “Red Hood. I hear he died, once.”
“Please, Nightwing is cooler than Red Hood,” said Dick.
“Um, those overgrown brutes have nothing on Robin,” said Damian.
“Not true!”
“Robin is a short-ass pre-teen with too many toys!”
“Nightwing is-”
“-Red Hood-”
“-what’s going on? Oh, Red Robin, without contest!”
"Boys, you're all- they're all-"
"-butt out, B-"
(y/n) finished her toast and slipped out of chair, giggling slightly at the fight she had indirectly caused.
Padding up to her father, she whispered in his ear-
Summary: You begin to think back to the very first time you met Bruce.
A/N: I wrote this for a friend because they just reached 1k followers! This little surprise fic is my way of celebrating with them. Congrats, @cas-backwards-tie , on 1k followers!! I know how much you love the batdad, so I hope you enjoy <3 take care, mum!
Your eyes focused on nothing in particular, only gazing out the window as the sky’s tears fell so heavily. Winter was so beautiful, yet so gloomy. You used to let your tears so the same. Life used to be so dull, empty. He changed that for you. He had been the last piece of the frustrating puzzle you worked in throughout the years. You remembered how scared you had been to let him in like that, even if you technically didn’t have a fairytale meeting. Your arms tightened around the pillow you hugged to your chest as you rested in the luxurious window seat.
The churning of your stomach almost made you sick. Why did you let your best friend talk you into this? She had recently started seeing some rich guy that invited her to a gala. You’re sure he was good to her, but you did worry. Men like that tended to be trouble, and you didn’t want her to get hurt. She told you that you worry too much, but that was your job as a friend.
“What’s on your mind,” she asked from her spot behind you. You were sat at her new vanity that no doubt came from her boyfriend. Her hands were working on your hair with such grace and determination. She begged you to go to the gala with her.
You shook your head, “nothing. Just nervous.” It wasn’t a lie, for you had never gotten to enjoy the high life of Gotham before.
“Don't worry about it,” she chirped, “you’ll do great, and the men will be all over you!” You rolled your eyes with a small smile on your candy red lips. She was always so insistent to earn you a date.
“You say that now,” you’re voice trailed off. There was no way you would let yourself fall for some rich snob that would leave you crying out in the rain like the players they tended to be.
The rest of the hour was spent like that; the two of you going back and forth about the party while she helped dress you up. You looked so stunning.
When you arrived at the gala- her on her lover's arm, and you next to them- the doubts in your mind were as strong as ever. Why did you even agree to be the third wheel? In a place like this too! You couldn’t even pronounce the cocktail names! This was too much.
Your friend gasped, “they even have our names on it!” She pointed to the table with three “reserved for:” tents. She yanked her date to the table, and you followed like a lost puppy. That’s how you felt, after all.
You started to loosen up about fifteen minutes in. The three of you were laughing with one another, joking around like you truly belonged there. You thought that maybe you could enjoy your night there, but you figured too soon. One of the boyfriend’s connections approached.
“Hey, you guys,” a rather happy male chirped at your group’s other two members. Did you not exist to him?
“Michael! It’s so good to see you,” your friend’s man replied, “how have you been? It’s been forever.” He stood up, and your friend did so as well. She seemed so insecure like she wasn’t sure how to behave in a situation such as this.
‘Michael’ gestured to the two of them, “walk with me.” They did as told, and left you without looking back.
Great. You were at some rich guy’s place, surrounded by fine culture where you were clearly not welcomed to join, and now you were alone. The couple was the only reason you came, and they parked you at a table like you were a broken down car with a price tag of $500 tucked under the windshield wiper. That’s dirt cheap for any car model. A shaky sigh escaped your mouth, and you rested your chin in your hand.
It felt like hours had passed, and they had not returned. You were about to get up, leave the place, and forget this night all together. You wanted nothing more than to call it quits.
“You’re new to this social scene, aren’t you?”
The fog of thoughts that plagued your mind cleared, and you looked at the now full chair to your left. You were expecting some jerk big shot, but who were you met with instead? Bruce Wayne- the man that owned almost the entirety of Gotham, and also said to be the most selfless wealthy man in the history of the earth.
You let your lips quirk upwards, “that obvious, huh?” There was no venom in your voice. You didn’t mean any offense by your statement, and you hoped he saw that.
Bruce seemed humored by your response, yet somehow caught off guard. Usually most- if not all- women would swoon by being in the same room as him. But you? No. You were so casual about it, but so clearly at your wit's end. Though in no way did you take it out on him, and he appreciates the little things like that.
“I’m Bruce Wayne.”
“[Y/F/N/] [Y/L/N].”
He had to know what brought this unknown territory of a woman into his life. “How did you find yourself here? You don’t look thrilled to be present,” he noted as he spoke.
“My friend, and her boyfriend,” you saw him look around for them so you continued, “they ditched me.” He was appalled. How rude of them!
He shook his head, showing his distaste for your situation. You seemed to be like him, not really wanting to be here. If it weren't for his reputation, he would be skipped out on all these social events. An idea struck him.
“It seems our interests align,” his eyes trailed up to meet yours, “want to get out of this place?”
This shocked you. Even though you would do anything to get out, you had to think about him. "What about the press," you raised an eyebrow, "they'll talk if you leave with a woman."
"That's why we need to be discrete about it," he replied. It sounded like he thought this through before even approaching you, or that he had unreal improv planning skills. He was ready for anything.
You nodded. “Okay,” you stood up, “meet me outside in ten minutes?” With his silent approval, you dismissed yourself.
As you left the establishment, you felt so much better than you did a few minutes ago. The billionaire had become your unlikely savior. You thought that he might add to the problem at first glance because of his status, but you were glad you hadn’t jumped the gun.
You hadn’t wandered far, only enough to distance yourself from the lavish party inside. The cold railing of the stairs was a nice contrast to your sweaty palms. You were admittedly nervous, but who wouldn’t be in your position?
A gentle hand resting on your lower back had your attention returning to reality. Bruce was now by your side, staying put on the bottom step like you had been for a few minutes now.
The moment you had turned to look at him, you sent his heart on a marathon. This was the first time he had seen you smile the whole night. From the second you walked into the party, his eyes were following you. But this was the first sign of happiness you showed since.
“Where do you want to go,” you asked after his mental analysis of you. You knew that he had been staring at you in that pause, but you didn’t wish to question it. Not while you’re still on the property at least.
He took a second to think it over. This was the perfect opportunity to have the simple relaxation his life lacked. “Perhaps we can park somewhere, and we can just talk?” He was afraid of your reaction, but you were pleased.
You remembered how awkward the car ride had been, but it was worth it. Neither of you spoke until he told you that you were nearly there.
Bruce stopped the expensive car in the parking lot of an empty park. There would be no children out around midnight so you undoubtedly had the area to yourself. He had gotten out of the vehicle, and he rounded it. He was such the gentleman, opening your door for you, and closing it when you get out. You had thanked him, always being polite.
He led you to the front of the car and offered you help on climbing onto the hood to lay down.You denied his help and managed to get on just fine. He liked how independent you were. When the two of you were settled down, laying beside one another, it really started to pick up.
A silence went by as you stared up at the starry sky. “It’s beautiful out tonight,” you commented. the darkness above had been clear of any smoke or fog, accentuate the peaking shimmer of the stars.
“Noy anywhere near as beautiful as you,” he replied quickly but with ease. Those usually cold eyes were stuck on the real thing that matter to him: you. You made him so irritated with himself. Never in his life had he been so distracted by someone from the first look. He wanted to figure out how the hell you could be so enchanting.
You cringed, but your pained snicker was like music to his ears. “that was so cheesy,” you said but smiled. You looked over at him and met his gaze. “But sweet. Thank you.”
Yet again, you sent him on a trip. How had you not rejected him?
“Is there any reason you’ve been staring at me all night?”
That was the question he was praying you wouldn't ask. How was he supposed to answer that? There was no way you wouldn’t scoff at the truth. Honesty wouldn’t hurt though.
“Well,” he faltered to continue when you turned your whole body to face him, “you’re not like other women.”
You smirked at him, “yeah. I’m socially awkward.” His eyes rolled.
“I mean,” he turned to face you as well, “you’re such a mystery. You don’t behave like they do.”
No one had told you something like that before. Hell, you weren’t sure if it was intended to be a compliment, but it felt like one. “Thanks, I guess.” You suddenly had strong urge to make a move on him. Why not? This night was getting good, and you weren’t going to stop that. There is no way you were about to let go of the thrill he gave you. Plus, if you never wanted to see him again you didn’t have to.
“You aren’t like I thought you were going to be either,” you confessed, your face only getting closer to his. It was evident that he noticed, but he didn’t stop you. He wanted the same thing you did. “Thank you for saving my night.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he whispered before beating you to the chase. He leaned in and closed the gap between your lips. It was tender and everything you imagined it to be.
“Are you okay,” your husband’s voice cut through your occupied mind, bringing you back to the present. He stood next to the window seat with two cups of coffee in his hands.
You nodded and moved your legs so he had room to sit with you. “Yeah, I was just thinking,” you answered nonchalantly. He should know by now how much you do that. Bruce seemed to accept the answer as you thought he would. He handed you one of the steamy cups.
There was that swelling in your heart he had never failed to inflict on you. It never dulled after that first evening you spent with him on the hood of his car.
Damian doesn't know how to ride a regular bike but wants to go out with Jon on the farm, so he has to learn.
Word count: 850
"Father! I want a bike." Damian demands. He needs one so that he can go out on the Kent farm with Jon for a ride.
"Okay. I will pick one up for you on the way home from work tomorrow." Bruce replies. It is refreshing to be asked for something normal by his youngest.
The next day Bruce brings home a red bike for Damian. Pleased by the choice in color, Damian takes it and begins to try to ride it. Much to his surprise, it is a lot different then driving a motorcycle or car. Having to pedal it adds in a new motion he is unused to doing when balancing. He attempts to ride it down the drive three times, but each time ends in him having to catch himself before he falls. This is an embarrassment to the boy who prides himself in being the best at all he does.
How can I not be able to ride a damn bike? Damian Thinks to himself.
He is frustrated with it and does not wish to ask for help, so he attempts two more times. Each time ends the same as the other times. He simply cannot figure this out.
How hard can it be to balance this thing? He thinks to himself before releasing a deep sigh. Perhaps I must ask for assistance. But only from Father. I do not need pointless ridicule. He continues in his head.
This is a shot straight threw the young boy's pride. He is supposed to be the perfect one of the children, for he is the blood son. Now he has discovered he cannot pedal and balance all at once. How could this be?
After a few silent moments of thought, Damian decides to slip into his father's office and shut the door. Bruce looks up worried. Why would Damian be sneaking around as if ashamed? He has never acted like this before.
"Father. I am not sure how to ride the bike... Every time I pedal I begin to fall." Damian says in a more hushed tone. This is far too embarrassing to the boy. He contemplates running out the door and to the training simulator to take out these unwanted emotions.
"Come on Damian. I can help you learn how." Bruce says with a warm and proud tone. This seems to renew confidence in his son.
The father and son head out to the bike, and Damian gets on it.
"I'll hold you steady by the seat while you pedal forward and get used to it." Bruce says as if he were training the boy. This seems to comfort Damian more, the familiar sense of training.
Damian begins to pedal down the driveway, turns around the fountain in the center to head back to the house, then turns again to repeat the path. Little does Damian realize that during the turn around by the house, Bruce lets go and watches his son ride a bicycle for the first time.
Bruce was robbed of many of these precious moments because of the rigorous training Damian endured with the League of Assassins. Seeing Damian learn to ride the bike reminds him that his son is still a boy. He needs to be guided gently through some situations and needs to learn who he is still.
"I believe you can let go now Father." Damian says as he turns gently around the fountain.
That's when he sees that Bruce is still by the house. That's when he realizes that he not only is riding a bike on his own, but his father does have faith in him and his capability. Bruce may not be the best, but he trusts Damian's skill and ability to learn. Perhaps Father is only trying to protect me the only way he knows how. Perhaps that is why he treats me like a incompetent child in a world out to get us.
The thought lingers in Damian's head as he parks the bike and gets off. Sure, Bruce is hard on Damian with the rules and guidelines, but maybe, just maybe, Damian was beginning to understand his father; maybe, just maybe, Bruce was beginning to understand his.
The both now see how similar they are to each other. Stubborn, hurt, and loving people who just don't fully know how to admit the truth, so they hide it deep down. Bruce has learned the hard way how to ask for help even if he thinks he doesn't really needed it; and now Bruce is proudly helping his son see that it is okay to ask, because asking can make things better.
Alfred can't help but to smile, at the man Bruce has become and the thought of the man Damian will one day be, as he watches Bruce put a arm around Damian's shoulders and walk back inside the manor. These are the moments dear Alfred lives for.
It is needles to say that the weekend comes, and Damian proudly rides his bike with Jon along the Kent farm as they explore the property and throw rocks into the small crick that runs along the far end of the property.
summary. reader is bruce wayne’s unofficial daughter and a mercenary. she doesn’t frequent gotham until she gets paid to kill the joker. next
You ignored the loud noise of the police sirens behind in the distance, you were more focused on the Gotham Knights following you in the distance on the rooftops.
Sure they were on the roof and you were on your bike, but you did have Red Hood on his motorbike following you. You took a sharp left, hoping to lose your tail, but Jason was the one to teach you to drive so of course he'd make the turn. But he lost sight of you.
"Why are we even chasing the Knight?" ah yes your code name, always doing things for justice, a habit you picked up from your father. You only took the jobs that paid well and punished people who deserved it. But the right way, even the jobs that didn't pay properly, you could always convince them to give more. You've done jobs in a lot of places, never in one place for too long, not even Gotham and you've kept off Batman's radar.
They didn't know that it was you in the suit, people called you many names. Angel of death, White Knight, some viewed you a king, even a god, but the one name everyone agreed on was "The Knight". you didn't like it at first but it grew on you.
Back to the chase, you turned into car park, because you weren't stupid you couldn't outrun the Gotham knights, maybe some of them. Besides, the batarang stuck in your thigh was hurting you.
You stopped your bike and got off, sitting on the ground trying to pull the batarang with minimal damage. You heard the sound of several boots hitting the ground and you knew this was definitely the moment they found out it was you.
"Knight" Bruce's gruff Batman voice made you flinch, you knew they wouldn't notice because the mask you wore covered the bottom half of your face and your eyes, any important feature.
"Batman" you tried to mimic his voice, but your voice modulator made it sound deeper and less funny.
All the other bats had surrounded you in case you tried to flee, but other than their footsteps they were quiet.
"Y'know the mask is kinda intimidating" your comment got no reaction from him, until you pulled the batarang out of you leg like it was nothing "Mine's kind off hard to breath in right now" his eyes were fixed on you, you were sure he wasn't blinking. Funny how differently you get treated when they don't know it's you.
You tapped the side of the mask, and the nanites released and formed a nice stylish choker around your neck, (you stole it from Lex Luthor and got a friend to alter it for you).
Soft gasps and curses spread around the room. You looked up at Bruce and smiled, right before passing out.
Bruce stumbled out of the living room, with hardly any control on his faculties. He was exhausted, he was grumpy, he could feel several bruises throbbing into bloom all over his body.
Three days, he hadn’t had any sleep. First there was a nasty bit of business in Metropolis, which Clark obviously couldn’t handle on his own. Then, the Scarecrow dosed Nightwing with his fear gas, which lead to a whole new set of problems. Then Poison Ivy broke Harley out of prison, who tried and failed to let the Joker out. And then......
Bruce was brought out of his reverie by a small voice.
“Daddy?”
His tiny daughter stood in the hallway, holding a Wonder Woman plushie and looking at him with large (e/c) eyes.
“(y/n),” said Bruce, the tiredness resonating in his voice. “Why are you still up?”
“The bats outside the window were screeching and they woke me up,” she said in a small voice.
“Oh,” said Bruce. He could relate to that.
“Could you read me a story, Daddy?”
Bruce looking longingly in the direction of his own bedroom, but nevertheless swooped down and picked the little girl up. She giggled , looking down over his shoulder- it was quite a height.
He carried her to her room and set her down on the soft single bed in the middle, pulled the covers over her and sat/lay down on the covers beside her, with one leg on the bed and the other on the floor supporting some of his weight.
“What do you want me to read?” he asked, stifling a yawn.
“This,” she said, holding a book.
Without so much as a glance at the cover, Bruce opened up to the first page and began to read.
“When Mary Lennox w-(yawn)- was sent to Misselthwaite Manor- (sigh)- t-to live with her uncle- (small cough)- eve-(yawn)-everybody said she was, mmph, the most disagreeable-(mumble) child to- sorry, looking-(blink,blink,blink)- child ever seen. Nng, it was true too. (yaaaaaaaaaaawn) she had a small, thin face and a (siiiiiiiiiiigh)-”
“Daddy, you are the most disagreeable reader to ever read,” (y/n) reprimanded. “That’s not how you’re supposed to read. Here, gimme the book. I’ll read.”
Bruce blinked at her sleepily and handed over the book without any protest.
The precocious little girl began to read.
“When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle, everybody said she was the most disagreeable looking child ever seen. It was true, too. She had a small, thin face and a ......”
Her chirpy voice filled the room and Bruce’s ears. He felt himself slowing relaxing, as if her reading was somehow whiling away some of his stress.
“....She slept a long time, and when she awakened...” When (y/n) had gotten this far, two chapters into the book, she paused and looked at her daddy. He was fast asleep. His breathing was deep, rhythmic and relaxed, and she thought he looked very happy.
She put down the book and slipped out of bed. She hoisted Bruce’s other leg- the one on the floor, up on the bed (with significant difficulty, it was heavy leg) and wrapped the covers around him. She made sure her Wonder Woman plushie was comfortable.
“Goodnight, Daddy,” she whispered softly, kissing his forehead and heading off to the kitchen to eat up all of Alfred’s homemade cookies before Bruce got to them the next day.
