Lazy Saturday

bvckysmanbun:

Short one to see if I understand Tim Drake’s character; I’ll work on it with future fics. I hope you enjoy! Comments highly appreciated! Tim Drake x Fem!Reader

Usually
when one wakes up, they never remember how they wake. They never remember what
position they were in, or when they realized they were awake. This is a
different story for you, especially nights spent in the Wayne Manor.

Every
morning, it’s the same awkward but warm arms that are wrapped around you, with
your head on the crook of his elbow and bicep; the only thing is that you can
never recall when those arms wrapped
around you. They were always wrapped around you where your back touched his
chest. Never the other way, that’s how you liked to fall asleep.

There’s
always a smell of coffee. It never mattered what kind of coffee because coffee
has a distinct, strong smell. It never bothered you, of course not. It was a
part of him. If coffee could be in anybody’s DNA, it would definitely be in
his. His smell of coffee always mixed with the smell of old spice. It was a
weird combination, but it was him.

You let out
a little exhale, slowly and carefully stretching your body against him. Your
hands wrapping his forearms and giving a delicate squeeze. His arms tightening
around you, giving you a gentle squeeze back. He’s always so warm and snug
against and with you.

“Good
morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. A little hum
of content reaches his ears and he chuckles. You tilt your head up towards him,
pressing a soft kiss against his jaw line. You can’t remember when Tim went
from awkward and scared that he’d break you if he hugged you too tight to this boy
beaming with confidence and love. You would never complain, oh no. Before in
the eye of the public, it was only strokes across your knuckles while holding
your hand; now, it’s soft pecks against your lips and holding you close to him.
You smile against his jawline.

“Good
morning, Timmy.” Only you could call him Timmy; but of course, there was the exception
of Jason teasing him always. “What’s the plan for today?” you whisper, running
your fingertips gingerly against his forearm, goosebumps rising at your touch.

“Well, it’s
Saturday and it’s only seven thirty in the morning, plus, it’s a special day
today,” he murmurs, his gaze was dazed over with something. He presses his lips
against your forehead and continues, “I was thinking we make it a lazy day
until we go out for lunch.” You close your eyes as you smile. Tim worked
himself way too hard and you lost count of the multiple times you told him that
his sleeping habit was out of control and that he stressed himself out way too
much; you remember catching him creating some kind of
heart-attack-in-a-sip-but-it’ll-keep-me-awake drink.

“What time
did you guys come home last night?”

“Three.”

“You only
slept four hours?” you question and raise an eyebrow. He gives you a sheepish
smile and you roll your eyes, patting his forearm to give you some room. He
releases his hold, his arms still hovering around your form but quickly tucking
you back in once you turned yourself over completely, your chest to his. One
hand made its way to the nape of his neck and the other went to cup his cheek. The
hand that belongs to the arm under your body begins to stroke your lower back
underneath your shirt, making you want to fall back asleep. The other hand made
its way to your chin, tilting your head to his once more.

“That’s
why I suggest a lazy day. You in my arms, under this comforter,” he says
gently, pressing a feather-light kiss onto your lips. Your eyes close and you
kiss back with the same caution, running your thumb across his cheek before
pulling back.

“You
promise to actually sleep?”

“Y/n…I took
patrol off just for you tonight. It’s lazy day just for you.” Your eyes brighten,
and a grin reaches your lips. The hand cupping his face moves to back of his
head and pulls him in for a full kiss. It was short, sweet, lazy. He pulls away
but stays close enough that your noses touch.

“Happy
birthday, Y/n,” he whispers, his chin resting on top of your head and your face
making its way face to the crook of his neck, breathing him in and your body
relieving itself, slumber taking over.