Description: All of us have our bad days. Sometimes they have purpose, sometimes they come without reason. Damian's beloved has one of these days.

Request(s): this is @youngjusticewritings! i really love your works and adore you as a person *_* if requests are still open, can i have some damian wayne fluff where he takes care of a sick reader? sorry if i'm disturbing you! *_* 

Teen/young adult dami x reader where she tries staying up until he gets back from patrol, but ends up falling asleep. When he gets back, he sees her curled up in bed, an open book, Titus, and her dog (my dog's name is Charlie if you'd like to use that. Or just Titus is cool too) protectively laying on either side of her. Damian is both happy and sad because he wants to cuddle, but she looks really cute with the dogs... Maybe he takes a pic to brag to bros and accidently wakes her?

Words: 2868

Notes: hey all I love Damian Wayne. Honestly, I might write another Damian fic or two because the Jon one was 9000 WORDS. So expect some proper Damian Wayne compensation soon.

_

Damian wasn't good with people. He looked at you every morning across the classroom (or if he was lucky, in his arms), feeling the beautiful warmth and infinite happiness flush out the pit of anxiety rooted in his stomach just knowing you were safe, and he'd search for a way to tell you how happy you made him. Every time you told him how much you adored him, how happy he made you... the words never came. Every time he came up short.

But at the very least, Damian is good at knowing people. His father loves the rain, to the point where he listens to it on his phone when he needs to sleep and can't. Jon's favorite color is actually green. Alfred is allergic to pine-nuts. You... you, he knew better than he knew himself at times. Not only because he held the knowledge that you loved [subject] because of your parents, or how you liked cheese on your popcorn, or that you secretly liked to watch the muscles roll in his back when he trained, but because he could see you. He knew what your natural smile looked like. He knew how your expression fell in sleep with the presence of a nightmare or relaxed with a pleasant dream. He'd down-right memorized the embarrassed flushing of your cheeks and had deepening them down to an art form.

So, it goes without saying, that Damian would know if you had a bad day even if you were attempting to hide it. But today must have been one of the really bad days because you aren't. His mind had already begun to work out why.

Last night, on Thursday, you had slept over at the Manor. In the last months, it had become your home as much as it was his; you were there almost every day, before school or after, and Damian's family loved having you around regardless. Damian was your official un-paid tutor, specializing in english and math, while you "tutored" him (...for service hours...) in science and history. You'd spent the majority of the study session tutoring each other in the art of kissing—for biology, Damian said. Or French class, you'd joked—until you'd actually decided to get your homework done. Then you'd stayed up and played video games until Damian went off for patrol.

"Off to save the world already?" You had smiled, watching him fondly from the corner as he pulled on his uniform.

"I can stay," Damian ventured, daring to put your happiness above others' lives. You'd shaken your head, smiling, and Damian had to pull himself from a blissful daze before he'd even began one. TT. He still couldn't believe you were insecure about your looks—now that was almost funnier than watching Drake fall down the stairs. It was like a [god/goddess] of beauty wondering if they were attractive or not.

"No," You'd laughed the word, planting your hands on his chest and pressing him forward,"As much as I hate to say it, you're going, Damian. Gotham needs her Robin."

"Yes, but you need your Damian," He'd said smugly. How could he be anything but? Not only did you want him, but he was truly, beautifully yours.

"I think I could go without him for a couple hours," you reasoned playfully. Something in his chest fluttered with your laugh, and suddenly the daze had its hands around his ankles and was dragging him under. You'd tossed your arms over his shoulder casually. Now your faces were closer. It was his chance.

"I think he disagrees," Damian said. He doesn't remember much after you kissed him. There was only that hot sensation against his cheeks when he thought back to kissing you, then he'd get distracted and his thoughts would veer off course, and he could only collect that he went out on patrol and returned home sometime afterward.

Pennyworth awoke him at four, and he'd pressed out the morning training agenda faster than usual, returning timely to his sheets by five and getting another blissful hour of you dreaming beside him. When awake you'd always remained wary of his comfort with physical affection. But when asleep you'd bind yourself to him, legs wrapped up in his, nose pressed deep into the crevice of his collarbones. He'd tried to get another hour in him, but by the time he'd managed to drowse your alarms went off in unison and you were up and getting ready.

One thing Damian knew about you, without doubt, was that you were certainly, most definitely not a morning person. He couldn't resist you, which you knew, and so with a couple of whines, you'd managed to convince him to carry you to the bathroom across the Manor. He could still feel you nuzzling against his chest as you murmured about food.

The shower you took together breezed by. Damian had hiked your legs around his middle, and as you dug the remnants of the night's patrol from his hair he listened to you describe your dream. It was when he began returning the favor by cleansing your locks did you confess,"I'm not feeling very well, to be honest. But I've already missed so many days, so I think I'll just take some medicine and try and deal with it."

Alfred coaxed some breakfast into you before time was up and you were practically sprinting to the garage. It was a nice morning. The front lawn was wet with morning dew, which caught in the light of the rising sun and made the Manor's grass appear to be peppered with diamonds. It created the effect that your skin was woven from gold and that your eyes were freckled honey. The public's version of Damian Wayne rose around this time, and once the idiot playboy saw the pretty character in his passenger's seat he didn't hesitate to flirt with them.

"Woah, who are you and what have you done with Damian Wayne?" You laughed, bowing your head out of his fingers and giggling into your lap.

He relished in the red on your face and planted a hand on the steering wheel,"Forgive me, Y/N, but you know I have a reputation to keep up—the idiot socialite who can't keep his eyes off any eligible man or woman. It's hard getting into this act each morning." He cast a wink your way before putting the car into drive,"But charming beautiful [girls/boys] always lightens the load, I suppose."

You'd laughed at that, but it wasn't nearly as bright or as loud as he would have hoped. Supposing it was just one of those days or that you were just tired, he pulled out of the garage and took off for your high school.

With the car's speed, you had arrived early enough to go and greet your other friends, all gathered around the front entrance of the school and waiting for it to open to the mass of students collected outside. Damian's hand had only just clasped around the handle of his door when the car's center console lit up with notifications, his phone playing the familiar ringtone Dick had chosen a forever ago. Damian respected the team's foundations too much to change it, not like Gar or Kori would let him regardless.

"When there's trouble you know who to call~," the lyrics began, and Damian answered the alert before the Teen Titans' supposed "theme" could continue. He got the basics; an attack was being made on Titan's Tower and he was needed ASAP.

You closed the door on your side of the car, leaning over it so your faces were closer. All you had to do was nod, a concerned smile,"Go, boy wonder. And be safe."

Damian remembered plenty after you kissed him this time. He'd booked it home, took the nearest teleporter to Titan's Tower and helped the other teens take care of the threat. By the time he was no longer needed school had just let out, and now here he was in his room.

There was a heavy silence that swarmed his bedroom as Damian observed you, his gaze sweeping over your form and compiling the evidence somewhere in the recesses of his mind. You closed the door and stood there, letting him find out what he needed too, and then when he stood from his windowsill you threw down your bag and collapsed into him with a throat-tearing sob.

"It was that Terran boy again, wasn't it? What did he do this time? I know he did something. God, I'll tear him limb from limb—" Damian snarled, wrapping his arms around you as if to protect you from some invisible danger. He was still in uniform, still very Robin and still very battered. It made you question why you couldn't be more like him; one of the Titans could have died in the last hour for all you knew, and here Damian was, comforting you as you sobbed over the idiotic trials of life. In comparison, his problems were so far beyond your own there was no real way of knowing what toll they could take on him. But he was still here instead.

"Are the—are the Titan's okay?" You choked, sniffling heavily and trying to level your breathing.

"Fine. But they don't matter right now," He raised a hand to his mask and gradually pulled it from his face. When it was off, he captured his eyes with his own, throwing it to the side as you had done with your bag. He surprised you by cupping your face,"You do, my beloved. Now tell me what is wrong."

"Just a... just a rough day," you shook your head between his hands. The tears kept coming even if they now felt impossibly insignificant, clogging your airways, stuttering and chopping your breath in bursts of quick succession. His gloves were coarse and hot against your face, but with the touch brought comfort. Comfort from Damian, which was infinitely better. You tried to gather yourself,"Just... just a lot of little things... piling up, I guess. I'm sorry."

"TT," Damian scoffed, shaking his head.

His touch was suddenly gone, and then his gloves were being torn off and thrown somewhere too. Then came his boots in two hearty clunks. His belt hit the floor in a jumble of metallic clicking, ending with the costume leggings and tunic. The golden R flickered in the corner of your vision once Damian finished undressing. Then his hands returned. They were coarse and warm too, but this time his thumbs were stroking the sides of your face, and with the feeling of his skin came compassion.

"Don't apologize, you fool," Damian practically laughed. You were stunned into silence when his lips found the bridge of your nose, and then Damian was racing to the other side of the room, pulling a mighty trunk from beneath his bed. You watched him flick open the latches and then the hood in search of answers. He gave none, only dipping his hands into the mass of weaponry.

"You must understand, beloved; you are my everything. And if some imbecile—Terran— dares to have the audacity to make my everything cry, then I must take appropriate action and defend your honor," Damian recited dramatically.

You were happy to say that you were unsure he was being serious. He was leaps and bounds away from this idealistic version of vengeance in which he was raised upon. But if this was a show to entertain you, it was certainly working; his confession and bravado had made your face red for his favorite reason, and there may have been a grin pulling at your cheeks.

"Or, to summarize: someone made you cry," Damian unsheathed a katana from the trunk, and it was sharp enough to cut through the air with a high shring! Damian held it across his face,"Then I shall make them cry."

His seriousness cracks in half with your laugh. It is wet, it is wilted, but it is still a laugh all the same. Gently, you knelt at his side and brushed the arm holding the blade away. He dropped it and pushed the case away with his foot, his skin singing with the clasping of your hands.

"You don't need to defend my honor, Damian," you sighed, mirth still dipping into your voice."No one made me upset—not even Terran. It was just... stress, and relationships, and friends... normal things."

"Is there anything between us in jeopardy?" Damian tensed. He didn't like how your eyes had fallen to the crest of his tunic at the word normal.

You shook your head, laughing when his body language loosened every so slightly,"God no, Damian. We're perfect. You're perfect."

Damian considered his words a little too seriously not to be cute, but you didn't comment. It was, to your surprise, Damian who commented. His voice rolled low when he spoke, strummed with a cord of awkwardness that made his tone genuine,"I... I feel the same way about you. That is good. You are perfect too. Very perfect. Yes."

You bit back another chuckle, but the mirth was cut short abruptly. Your hand flew to your temple. With a sniffled groan, you dismissed Damian's jolt of worry,"Thank you. But actually, I'm the complete opposite of perfect right now. My body feels like it's trying to murder me."

"I see," Damian said. Without another second to waste, he scooped you up and delivered you to his bed, smirking smugly with your yelp of surprise,"Give me a moment. No sickness can conquer my beloved without my permission. Trust when I say you'll be in good health in no time."

___

With the recent attack at Titan's Tower, father swiftly had Damian running his normal rounds again, delivering messages to Barbara's Eyes in the city and back, searching for a connection. He'd ended patrol at one in the morning. Even if that was early for him, it still felt too late. He hadn't wanted to go on patrol at all with your worsening condition. Damian had parted with the knowledge that the soup Alfred made could only do so much, and that the medicine he had administered was making things worse. Father had sent him off early with his head so out of the game.

Damian pushed open his window, shouldering his way inside and landing on the carpet soundlessly. The moonlight pooled through the opening and sent his dull shadow across the bed, his cape molding with the night and allowing the darkness to envelop him near entirely. He smirked at the scene that greeted him; finally.

After a late afternoon of struggling to heal you, sleep's healing powers became a priority. He'd spent all of nine o'clock with your fever rising and your ear against his side, reading the pages of your current book aloud to you as bait for sleep to capture your conscience. The cool towel had seemingly relieved only a portion of the heavy fever. At one point or another, you did nothing but talk for a couple hours, until father had called for him, and Damian commanded his animal companions to guard you.

They had certainly made the better company. Alfred the cat had posed as something akin to a headrest, draped around your neck and watching him from the shadows, tail flicking about and tickling your face in your slumber. Ace and Titus laid on either side of you, both of the hounds' ears perked with his entrance.

"Good job, all of you," Damian praised. Titus made a noise in his throat that sounded pleased, Ace yipped quietly, leaving Alfred's indifferent meow behind. He made sure to take a picture—both to show you in the future and... y'know, to brag. His beloved was beautiful at all times of day and night.

He pats Titus' rear and nodded behind him. When the hound didn't move, Damian huffed,"Titus. Come. I want to rest with them."

Titus growled. Damian narrowed his eyes, and Titus returned the gesture. With an annoyed huff, Damian rounded the bed and performed the same action with Ace. The Bathound didn't even open an eye, never mind respond. Grumbling, Damian began to pull apart his armor, mumbling about his bed being stolen by his animals.

"Ace," You whispered, scratching his back. Ace blinked awake and without a whine or bark of complaint, padded across the bed and curled himself atop your feet.

"How'd you do that?" Damian inquired, incredulous.

You refrained from answering, only mumbling and shaking your head, nestling deeper into his sheets. Damian hurried in getting off his armor, pulling off his tunic and slipping down to his boxers in silent swiftness. When his arms came to your body he was thankful to discover they were at a normal temperature. Warm too, but mostly because of just how cold patrol had made him.

It was just you, him, the protective barriers of his pets, and the moon. The assurance of solitude gave him confidence. So just as you were about to succumb to sleep's sweet embrace, he assured that you came to his first.

Damian kissed your shoulder, closed his eyes, and nestled tightly against your warmth,"Goodnight, my beloved. And rest well. Tomorrow, I shall deal my wrath upon the Terran boy."