I Am In Love With Tim As A Dad This Is So Cute.

i am in love with tim as a dad🥺🥺 this is so cute.

Saviour

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 9,382

Warnings - violence, threats, swearing, angst, drugs, alcohol, fluff, inaccurate police descriptions, fluff

Summary - after a few months of being fostered by Tim, a family member pops up and both you and Tim have a bad feeling about him

A/N - hey y'all! it's time for another installment of this little universe I've created that started with 'Unexpected Bond' (yeah let's call it a little universe). this idea had been floating around in my head for a while so I truly hope I've done it justice. if y'all want to see more from this duo please send in requests for them (I'm running out of ideas already). anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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After a few months of living with Tim, he had noticed some positive changes with you. You had broken out of your shell, you had been transferred to a new school and you were thriving in your new environment. It had taken you a little while to unlearn all the things the children’s home had embedded into you but Tim had been nothing but patient and comforting through the whole process. Tim’s work friends had all met you and all accepted you with open arms. Kojo had become your loving yet fierce protector, and he wouldn’t leave your side when you were home. Tim loved having you around, viewing you as a daughter more and more with each passing day and as time passed, he started debating the idea of going forward with adopting you. Since Kiara had confirmed that you had no family to reunite with, the aim had always been to find someone to adopt you, and since you had already become part of Tim’s family, he wanted to make you a Bradford officially.

“Hey, kid, come on! Let’s get you to school!” Tim calls through the house, his work bag slung over his shoulder while he waits patiently.

“Sorry! I’m coming!” You yell back, shoving the last book into your bag and grabbing it, rushing to the front door with Kojo bounding behind you.

“Cutting it fine. Come on, get in the truck.” Tim says with a light chuckle, placing a hand on your shoulder and nudging you towards the front door.

“Sorry, Tim. Bye, Kojo, be a good boy.” You apologise to Tim with an innocent smile before crouching down to pet Kojo quickly before heading out to the truck.

“You heard her, be good.” Tim then says, pointing at Kojo who sits, tilting his head as if offended by the idea of being anything but a good dog in your absence. After exiting the house, Tim crossed to the truck, got behind the wheel and headed off in the direction of your school, both of you chatting the whole way.

“Alright, be good,” Tim says, parking the car outside your school and turning to face you as you mirror his actions.

“I always am.” You say with a smile, making Tim let out a soft chuckle.

“I know.” He replies softly before opening his arms for a hug you’re quick to give him.

“Okay, you better get going. Have a good day, y/n/n.” Tim says as he releases you from the hug, noticing the other kids already heading in and you glance over your shoulder nodding as you open the door.

“Have a good day on patrol. Bye, Da… Tim.” You say, eyes widening quickly when you realise your slip-up, making you scramble to get out of the truck, bag in hand as you practically slam the door behind you and you feel the growing heat behind your cheeks. You then rush into the school building, hoping Tim didn’t catch what you said.

As you rushed into the building, Tim was sitting in the truck, lips slightly parted in shock and eyes wide. He had heard you begin to call him ‘dad’ before you corrected yourself. He began driving to Mid-Wilshire station with that moment playing on repeat in his head. He barely processed anything that was said at roll call and by the time they had gotten into their shop, Lucy had a suspicion that something was going on.

“Is everything, okay Tim?” Lucy asks as Tim begins to drive out of the station.

“Yeah, fine,” Tim mutters, barely glancing her way as he talks. Lucy was not convinced that Tim really was fine and while she didn’t push at first, as the day progressed and he wasn’t acting like the TO she was used to, she started to get concerned. And when they finally sat down to have their lunch, she decided to talk to him.

“Okay, you’re clearly not fine. Has something happened? Is y/n okay?” Lucy asks, getting nothing more than an uninterested hum in response as he stares into space. Realising Tim is not paying her any real attention, she decides to test something.

“Did you hear that Wesley cheated on Angela? The wedding’s off.” She says, picking up a fry and watching as Tim nods.

“Cool.” He mumbles, which makes Lucy reach her final straw, throwing a fry and hitting Tim in the face, making him flinch away from it and scowl at Lucy.

“What the hell, Boot?” He scolds, his glare cold as he stares at her.

“You’ve been distracted all day. What is wrong with you?” Lucy demands, another fry in hand as she readies herself to throw another one.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Tim insists, immediately having to duck his head to dodge another fry thrown in his direction.

“Try that again,” Lucy says, raising an eyebrow as Tim glares at her once more.

“You’re a pain in the ass. You know that, don’t you?” Tim says pointedly while Lucy nods with a smile.

“Start talking.” She then warns, making Tim hold his hands up in mock surrender.

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell you. I was dropping y/n off at school this morning and she almost called me ‘Dad’. That’s what’s been on my mind.” Tim says, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair, watching as Lucy processes what he said.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I mean you are her foster father. It just means she actually sees her as her dad.” Lucy says, tilting her head slightly as she talks.

“After Isabel left I didn’t think I’d get a chance to be a dad and y/n’s great. She’s the daughter I didn’t know I needed. Biological or not, I see her as my kid. But I saw her face after she said it. She looked embarrassed. Maybe I’m not good enough.” Tim says, rambling with an unusual nervousness about him.

“Stop right there. You’re more than enough for y/n. She’s told me on multiple occasions that she considers you fostering her as the best day of her life. You got her out of the toughest time of her life and looked after her. I don’t think she was embarrassed. Maybe a little scared because she didn’t want to upset you or overstep any boundaries? Look, you should talk to her after your shift. It’ll do you both good to clear the air about everything. And don’t give me that ‘I don’t talk about my feelings’ crap. This is y/n we’re talking about.” Lucy says, pointing at Tim when he attempts to butt in, making him close his mouth and shrug.

“I guess you’re right,” Tim says softly.

“You guess I’m right?” Lucy asks with a light chuckle, shaking her head jokingly as Tim rolls his eyes.

“Okay, you’re right. I’ll talk to y/n when I’m home.” Tim finally agrees with a nod, ending their conversation on that topic then and there.

Meanwhile, at your school, you were having a similar conversation with your friends.

“Guys you don’t get it. I almost called him ‘Dad’ to his face!” You groan as your friend's exchange looks.

“I’m sure it’s not a big deal. You’ve been telling us that he’s your father figure anyway.” Your friend Juliet says, shrugging slightly with a supportive smile.

“Yes I see him as a father figure but it doesn’t mean he’s okay with the idea of me calling him ‘Dad’ at all. To him I’m probably just some foster kid he’ll end up wanting nothing more to do with before a year is up.” You mumble, poking at the food in front of you with your fork.

“Somehow I doubt that. If he didn’t care about you he wouldn’t have done that whole thing with shutting down an entire children's home because of your experience there.” Ruby then says, pointing at you with her fork as you roll your eyes.

“He didn’t just do it because of me. He knows there were other kids in that home that needed help.” You shrug, stabbing some food onto your fork and eating a mouthful.

“You’re ridiculous. Why don’t you just talk to him about it? It’ll be better if you just clear the air about it.” Juliet suggests, both she and Julie watching as you silently debate the idea given to you.

“Maybe you’re right.” You say quietly, lifting your drink to your lips before you take a sip.

“Maybe?” Juliet scoffs, raising an eyebrow as you laugh.

“Okay, okay. You’re right. I’ll talk to him later.” You agree, watching with a laugh as your two friends share a high-five.

That afternoon, you made your way back home after getting the bus. You knew Tim finished work later so you had to make your own way home in the afternoons, you had never complained, the bus journey was always interesting but the walk from your nearest bus stop always helped to clear your head. When you made it home, you unlocked the front door and you were immediately greeted by Kojo who sniffed at you and panted happily while you petted him.

“Hey, Kojo. Yes, I know I’ll take you for a walk just let me put my bag down.” You say with a chuckle as Kojo begins to paw at your leg and whine, telling you he wants to go for a walk. You put your bag down and grab Kojo’s lead, hooking it on his collar before heading back out of the house. Walking Kojo in the afternoons had quickly become one of your favourite activities, it gave you something to do while waiting for Tim to come back and you loved getting to spend extra time with Kojo. The walk was fun, you took Kojo to his favourite park and let him run around as well as play fetch with him to let him get his energy out. 

By the time you got home, Kojo was more than happy to lay on the end of your bed while you did some of your homework in your room. As you work at your desk, you often find yourself sitting back in your chair and admiring your room, having decorated it since you moved in. You’d painted the walls, there were various posters on the walls of various singers you’d started listening to. Tim had been able to convince you to put an LA Rams pennant up in your room after you started watching the occasional game with him. As you finish your final piece of homework, you hear a knock at the door which has Kojo perking up in seconds.

“Come on then, let’s see who’s at the door.” You grumble, getting up from your seat and heading to the front door with Kojo following close behind. Once you reach the door, you look through the peephole, expecting it to either be a delivery person or some door-to-door salesperson. But when you see the person on the other side you open the door.

“Kiara? What are you doing here?” You greet your social worker happily, hugging her and she is quick to return it while Kojo sits and waits patiently.

“Hey, y/n. I did try calling Tim. Is he at work?” Kiara asks as you invite her inside, wondering why she’s dropped by.

“Yeah, he usually finishes a few hours after I finish school, depending on if he gets roped into a case or not.” You shrug as Kojo approaches Kiara, nosing her hand for attention and she’s happy to oblige.

“That’ll explain why I couldn’t get a hold of him then.” Kiara muses, petting Kojo.

“Is everything okay? You don’t normally come by unannounced.” You ask, quickly becoming worried about what is going on. Kiara always called ahead of time when she came to do a visit and would never come by if she couldn’t get through to Tim beforehand.

“There’s something I need to talk to both you and Tim about,” Kiara says, making your concern levels rise.

“If it's urgent I’m sure Tim would be okay with us swinging by the station. They have rooms we can use to talk privately in.” You offer, coming up with the only solution you could think of.

“It’ll have to do. Come on y/n.” Kiara says, straightening up from where she was petting Kojo and you nod slightly.

“Okay, bye Kojo, hold down the fort for us.” You say, grabbing your house keys and petting Kojo goodbye once more before following Kiara out to her Mini, getting in the passenger seat and nervously thinking of worst-case scenarios. When you arrive at Mid-Wilshire station, you follow Kiara into the station and approach the front desk.

“Is there a way we can speak to Officer Bradford?” Kiara asks the officer at the front desk who glances up at her, eyes briefly flicking to you before looking back at Kiara.

“What do you need to talk to him about?” The officer asks, looking bored as he talks.

“Kiara? y/n? What are you doing here?” Tim’s worried voice comes out of nowhere and you and Kiara whip around to see Tim. He crosses the room in a couple of long strides, instantly grabbing you by the shoulders, his eyes scanning you for any potential injuries.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks worriedly, watching you carefully.

“I’m fine. I promise.” You assure Tim quietly, smiling as he gently removes his hands from your shoulders and focuses on Kiara.

“I tried calling and y/n said you were still at work. I need to talk to you and y/n about something. Is there somewhere private we can talk?” Kiara says to Tim and you can see his expression become serious as he nods.

“Let’s find somewhere private,” Tim says, gesturing with his head for you to follow him which both you and Kiara do. He leads you both to one of the many interrogation rooms, flipping the signs to ‘occupied’ so people won’t come in before bringing you into the observation room, turning around to face Kiara, arms folding across his chest.

“What’s going on?” He says, staring at Kiara who wrings her hand, adjusting how she was standing to address both of you.

“So, we were under the impression that y/n had no family but recently an uncle has made himself known to us. He had been spending the last twenty years abroad and has recently moved back to the States and we managed to get into contact with him.” Kiara explains, watching as you and Tim begin to put the pieces together in your head.

“What does this mean? Is y/n going to be taken from my care?” Tim asks, trying not to let his worry become obvious as he talks.

“Since y/n’s uncle is open to the idea of possible reunification. We’re going to implement a reunification plan.” Kiara begins, watching your reactions carefully.

“Wait, don’t I get a say in this? What if I want to stay with Tim? I don’t know this guy.” You say, shocked tears filling your eyes at the sudden news.

“y/n, sweetie. It’ll just be for a couple of nights at a time. It’s a weekend at most. Just to scope things out.” Kiara says softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently, ceasing her actions when you move away from her, shaking your head.

“I can’t believe this.” You whisper, backing away from Kiara and rushing out of the room and heading out of the station. You found a bench just outside and sat down on it, pulling your knees up to your chest and crying softly. You hated that your opinion wasn’t being considered. You were happy with the life and routine you had living with Tim. Your life had already changed so much and now it was potentially going to be changing again.

“Hey, kid.” Tim’s soft voice says as you hear him easing himself down next to you on the bench. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, instead burying your face further into your knees.

“Why is she doing this?” Your voice was muffled but Tim could hear you, and his heart broke hearing you sound so defeated and upset.

“It sounds like it’s out of her control. Reunification is usually the end goal with foster care.” Tim says, trying to keep his voice soft for you. You then lift your head, turning to look at Tim with misty eyes.

“But why don’t I get a say? It’s my life.” You ask, a fresh tear slipping down your cheek as you lift your hand to harshly wipe it away.

“They just want you to try it. He is your uncle after all. Maybe after some time, you’ll get a choice. If you give it a try you’ll know how you feel for sure.” Tim says gently, resting a hand on your shoulder and tugging you carefully into his side which you accept, leaning against his side comfortably.

“Okay, I’ll try it.” You mumble as Tim squeezes you a little closer. Tim would never admit it out loud to you but he was scared for the reunification plan. He’d grown so accustomed to having you around and he was terrified that you’d like living with your uncle and move in on a permanent basis and he’d would be alone once more. But he wasn’t going to be the reason you didn’t reconnect with family.

“I was wondering where you two ran off to.” Kiara’s voice then speaks up, making you look in her direction, wiping at your eyes again to conceal your tears.

“Sorry, I just needed some air.” You mumble, moving away from Tim’s embrace slightly.

“It’s okay, y/n,” Kiara says, smiling softly at you.

“I’ll give it a try. I’ll spend weekends with my uncle.” You say, standing from the bench and addressing Kiara who nods.

“You’ll be with Tim during the week and you’ll spend Friday night through to Monday morning with your uncle. I’ve checked and approved his house as a suitable place for you to be living. We’ll trial it for a few weeks and then make a decision from there.” Kiara explains as you and Tim listen carefully, nodding along to each word she says. Despite your willingness to try this, you couldn’t shake the bad feeling you had about this whole situation.

When Friday afternoon came around your nerves were at an all-time high. The whole day at school you had been anxious and your friends had noticed but you didn’t tell them what it was that had you so nervous although you were sure they had chalked it down to you not having the conversation with Tim about you nearly calling him ‘Dad’ yet. You were sat on the sofa with Kojo curled up at your side as your knee bounced nervously. Tim was pacing, trying not to let his anxieties get the best of him. After about ten minutes of nervous waiting, there’s a knock on the door which has Tim striding over to the door and opening it to reveal your uncle on the other side.

“You must be Tim. I’m Steve.” Your uncle introduces himself to Tim, briefly shaking his hand before entering the house and quickly locating you. At the presence of your uncle, Kojo’s head shoots up and he stares at him for a moment before lowly growling.

“Kojo, shush.” You scold the dog quietly, stroking his head to calm him down and he soon settles back down, eyeing your uncle grumpily.

“So you must be y/n,” Steve says, smiling at you as you smile weakly in response, nodding to confirm.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You say quietly, standing from the sofa as Kojo grumbles.

“We should get a move on. We’ve got a fun weekend ahead of us.” Steve says, his smile offputting as you nod, picking your bag off the floor and crossing to Tim.

“You have everything you need?” Tim asks, looking down at you with a gentle gaze.

“Yeah.” You say with a nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you on Monday then,” Tim says softly, carefully bringing you into a hug which you’re quick to return.

“I’ll see you on Monday.” You mumble, hugging Tim a little tighter before letting go, smiling up at him, whispering goodbye to him and Kojo before turning to follow your uncle out of the house. The drive to Steve’s house was awkward, there was no conversation and every time you opened your mouth to attempt to start a conversation, Steve glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and you would quickly shut your mouth and focus back on the passing scenery. Soon enough, Steve parks his truck and turns to face you.

“Alright. Get out.” He says, an unexpected harshness to his voice, making you flinch slightly before nodding, scrambling to get out of the car. You grab your bag, hauling it out of the car and following behind Steve as he opens the front door, revealing the interior of his house. He had clearly only just moved in with how minimalist everything was and you had a feeling that it wouldn’t stay this tidy.

“Your room’s in the back to the right.” Steve then says gruffly, slamming the door behind him and heading straight to the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping the lid off before taking a swig and crossing to collapse on the sofa. You decide to follow his directions and hide away in your room, scared of how quickly your uncle’s personality had done a one-eighty in one car journey. When you got to your room, you pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket, unlocked it and opened your contacts, thumb hovering over Tim’s contact. You knew if you called Tim and asked for help he’d be there in a heartbeat. But you didn’t want to jump the gun and make assumptions too quickly. Instead, you opened your texts and sent a message to Tim.

‘We’ve just arrived at Steve’s place.’

You barely glanced away from your phone for a second before your phone buzzed with a text message from Tim.

‘Good to hear. If you need anything you can call me or Kiara. Have a good weekend.’

You smiled a little upon reading Tim’s message, knowing he was only a phone call away was a huge weight off your shoulders. You weren’t sure you’d be willing to bother Tim but knowing he’d help you if you asked was comforting. You spend a moment scrolling through your camera roll, smiling at various pictures you had taken of Kojo, missing him already, and then your bedroom door flies open.

“Get your ass in the kitchen now.” Steve’s voice booms, making you jump, looking over at him with a terrified look as he points in the direction of the kitchen, making you jump up and scramble to head into the kitchen with Steve following close behind you.

“Is everything okay?” You ask nervously, shoving your phone in your pocket as you turn to face Steve who folds his arms across his chest.

“I’ll be okay if you can help me out,” Steve says, his stare cold.

“What do you need help with?” You ask, wondering why he’s acting like this.

“Rumour has it you went to that kid's home that got closed down recently. I know those kids from there know how to get some good stuff or at least know some contacts to get people in with the big drug dealers round here.” Steve says, watching as you shuffle awkwardly.

“I never got involved in anything like that.” You say nervously, suddenly fearing his reaction as his glare grows colder.

“So you’re telling me you don’t know a single person who could get me some damn drugs?” He asks harshly, stepping closer to you, towering over you as you take a small step back.

“Even if I did I wouldn’t know where to find them. Since the home closed all the kids got moved to other different homes. I’d have no idea where to start.” You partially lied. Of course, you knew which kids were involved with each big drug dealer in the area but you weren’t lying about not knowing where to find them. You had no idea what home each kid had been moved into. You hadn’t gotten along with any of them so you had no reason to maintain any sort of contact after Tim began fostering you.

“Well, you better start figuring it out. Give me your phone.” Steve demands, holding his hand out expectantly.

“What?” You question, hand moving to your pocket in a feeble attempt to shield your phone.

“Do you think I’m stupid? I know that guy you live with is a police officer and I don’t trust you not to go running to him the moment I leave you alone. If I have your phone I can guarantee you won’t tell him about what I want to do.” Steve asserts, nodding towards his hand before staring at you once more.

“I can’t figure out where people are without my phone.” You try weakly, scrambling at any excuse to keep your phone with you.

“That ship’s sailed. You’re useless to me right now. I’ll just have to look myself until next week when you get back to me with actual answers.” Steve says, taking another step closer as you feel your heartbeat pick up. Scared of what might happen if you continue to disobey Steve’s order, you pull your phone out of your pocket and hand it to him, flinching lightly when he snatches the phone away from you. As Steve turns around to grab himself another beer from the fridge, your eyes flick around the room, searching for a landline phone. Tim had ensured you had his number memorised so if you really needed to call him and didn’t have your phone you’d be able to call him from any phone. To your disappointment, you couldn’t locate a landline phone at all and you just knew that this weekend was not going to be what you thought. When Steve dismisses you harshly, you rush back to your room, sit on your bed and instantly dig through your bag for the book you had brought with you, desperate for some escapism. You felt like you had just been thrown back in time and you were back in the children’s home again, hiding from those who picked on you. As the afternoon pressed on into the evening, you felt your stomach rumbling as you curled up on the bed, willing it to be quiet. You were hungry but you weren’t willing to risk Steve telling you off or worse if you somehow did something wrong.

As you began to doze off, you heard the front door burst open and a new group of voices enter the house, all of them loudly welcoming Steve back to the States as they rummaged around in the kitchen for beers and snacks. You closed your eyes once more, attempting to get some sleep despite your rumbling stomach but the noise coming from the living room made it hard to fall asleep, especially when the music started to blast.

Back at Tim’s house, Tim was trying his best to herd Kojo away from your bedroom door as he made his own way to bed.

“Come on, man. y/n isn’t here, the room’s empty.” Tim says, attempting to coax Kojo away from the door but in defiance, Kojo lets out a long whine and scratches lightly against the door before lying down right in front of it. After standing and watching Kojo for a few minutes, Tim lets out a defeated sigh before crossing to your bedroom door, pushing it open and watching as Kojo rushes in, hopping up on your bed and curling up, contented. Tim watches Kojo quietly for a moment, a bittersweet smile on his face. Kojo wasn’t the only one who missed your presence around the house. Tim also found himself missing you. The house seemed quieter without you around and Tim found himself selfishly hoping you’d somehow hate your uncle so you’d choose to stay living with him. After shaking himself out of his thoughts, Tim crosses to the bed to stroke Kojo softly.

“You can stay in here. I know you miss her.” Tim says softly, before turning and making his way back to his own room for the night, making sure to leave your bedroom door open and then leaving his door open just in case Kojo decides to join him at any point.

After a whole night of tossing and turning, only managing to grab a couple of hours of sleep through brief sessions of dozing, you get up the next morning and head into the bathroom to freshen up and change. After sorting yourself out, you head out into the kitchen, nose wrinkling at the overwhelming stench of alcohol. You glanced around the room, searching for any sign of Steve being awake or nearby and with the confirmation he wasn’t awake or nearby, you searched through the cupboards for anything you could eat. You ended up finding half a loaf of bread and snuck a piece of bread, toasting it quickly and spreading some butter on before eating it as quickly as possible, darting back to your room as soon as you’re done to hide away so you wouldn’t be in Steve’s line of fire when he starts roaming the house.

The rest of your weekend was spent cowering in your room, hearing Steve stomping around the house, drinking the day away and then inviting all his friends over and keeping you awake all night long with their loud music and conversation. By the time Monday came around you were ready to get out of the house. Since you knew Steve had been drinking all night you had no expectations in getting a lift from him to school so you knew you’d be getting the bus and then walking. As you left your room, bag on your shoulder, you found your phone on the counter, shocked that Steve had the decency to return it to you but you couldn’t forget his warning. Rushing to get out of the house before you miss the bus, you grab your phone off the counter, shoving it in your pocket and exiting the house making your way to the nearest bus stop.

Getting through the day felt like a chore, you were exhausted and hungry. Lunch was a well-needed break to refuel and rest but it wasn’t enough. Your friends had definitely picked up on your low energy but you reassured them with a smile that you had just had a long weekend and needed a good night's sleep. Thankfully your friends didn’t pry any further into it and you were able to get through the rest of the school day and you just couldn’t wait to get home.

When you got home, a smile grew on your face as you drew closer to the door. It felt like a breath of fresh air returning to the house you had grown to love in a few short months. As you put your key in the lock and turned it, your smile grew as you heard the tapping of claws against hardwood, signalling to you that Kojo was making his way to the door to investigate your arrival.

“Hey, buddy!” You greet Kojo enthusiastically as soon as you’re in the house, crouching down to be at his level, laughing as he jumps all over you, pushing you to the floor and smothering you in kisses.

“I know. I missed you too.” You say, your smile not fading as you pet Kojo, so overwhelmingly happy to see him again. After Kojo had calmed down enough for you to sit up, you decide to take him on a walk, going to his favourite park and playing plenty of games with him before returning back home. Upon reaching the house, you felt exhaustion setting into every part of you. You let Kojo into the house, kicked your shoes off and crossed to the living room couch, collapsing on it and turning the tv on to watch whatever was on. You stretched out across the sofa, slipping a cushion under your head as you watched the random show you had put on. As you lay there, Kojo hopped up on the couch, wiggling his way alongside you as you threw an arm over him, not caring that his body was taking up most of the space. As you continued to watch the tv, you felt your eyelids growing heavier with each passing second, each blink longer than the last. Eventually, the need for sleep wins out and you begin to doze off, feeling safe and surrounded by peace and quiet.

When Tim got home, he was surprised that Kojo had not immediately come barrelling his way to greet him, and neither had you. As Tim closed the door behind him, he heard faint sounds coming from the living room and he rounded the corner to find you fast asleep on the sofa with Kojo under your arm. Unlike you, Kojo was wide awake, staring at Tim with perked-up ears, signalling that he was happy to see Tim.

“Hey, Kojo. Everything okay?” Tim asks Kojo quietly, petting Kojo softly. After greeting Kojo, Tim gently reaches out and shakes your shoulder enough to rouse you.

“Hey, kid. Busy weekend?” Tim asks softly, smiling as you blink your eyes open and bury your face back into the cushion.

“I guess.” You mumble, the tiredness obvious in your voice as your eyes slip shut again.

“You hungry?” Tim then asks, watching as you nod, eyes opening once more.

“Starving.” You admit, hand running up and down Kojo’s back as he lets out a small happy sigh, nuzzling further into you.

“Okay, you get some more rest. I’ll wake you up when dinner is ready.” Tim says, grabbing the remote and turning the tv off as you nod lightly, eyes closing again while Tim turns to head to the kitchen. You continued to nap peacefully with Kojo keeping a watchful eye on you while Tim cooked, deciding to make your favourite meal to welcome you back. He had been concerned over the weekend due to the lack of messages he got from you but he just convinced himself that you were having a good time with your uncle. He had attempted to do some digging into your uncle’s history to see if he had a criminal record and couldn’t find anything which reassured him slightly that you were in good hands but it didn’t make him feel any more at ease about where you’d be living in the future. When Tim finishes cooking, he heads back to the living room and gently rouses you once more. You wake up with a bit more energy than you had earlier and you were ready to eat dinner so you follow Tim into the kitchen to plate up your food before sitting at the table, digging in almost instantly.

“This is amazing, Tim.” You say gratefully.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were starving, huh?” Tim muses lightly, lifting his drink to his lips to take a sip.

“Had a busy weekend. Used a lot of energy.” You lie, shrugging before continuing to eat your food.

“That’s good to hear. Do you get along with your uncle?” Tim then asks, trying to make the question seem innocent while he tries to gauge how you feel about spending time with your uncle.

“He’s okay, I guess.” You shrug, not ready to tell Tim about your uncle’s activities although your brain was screaming at you to tell him everything. But everything still felt awkward after you almost called him ‘Dad’ so you felt like you had to tread on ice around Tim to keep things as normal as possible.

“There’s not any problems, is there?” Tim asks, glancing up at you and watching as you shake your head.

“No. No problems. I’m just getting used to everything.” You say, poking slightly at your food. You felt guilty for lying to Tim, especially given that your uncle wanted to use you to get drugs. You knew Tim would help you out if you asked him to, but you were terrified that if Steve did get arrested, he’d hurt Tim and you couldn’t live with that on your conscience.

“If anything happens, you know you can tell me, right?” Tim asks softly, having a slight feeling that something isn’t right but not wanting to push too hard.

“I know. And I appreciate that. It’s just weird growing up thinking I had no family and then all of a sudden I have an uncle pop out of nowhere, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.” You say with a small smile, finishing the last of your food before sitting back, full and satisfied. After finishing your meal and waiting for Tim to do the same, you put your plate and cup away in the dishwasher before a yawn slips past your lips.

“I might crash early, I’m still tired.” You admit quietly, smiling as Kojo sidles up alongside you.

“That’s fine. You do sound tired. Go and rest up, kid.” Tim says with a gentle smile before quietly bidding you goodnight as you head to your room, Kojo following behind you loyally. Once you’ve gotten yourself ready for bed you bury yourself under your duvet with Kojo curling up at the end of your bed and you fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow.

By the time the next Friday afternoon rolled around, you felt even more nervous than you did the prior week. You hadn’t done any research into who could put Steve into contact with the big drug dealers. You knew if word got out that you had helped Steve find drugs, it would reflect badly on Tim and you’d rather accept whatever punishment Steve had in store than Tim get in trouble for what you did. When Steve arrived at the door, he was once again greeted by Tim and so plastered on his ‘nice guy’ persona and you longed to expose the type of man he really was. Kojo once again growled lowly at Steve’s presence and while you wished you could allow Kojo to do so, you had to get him to quieten down. Once Steve beckoned for you to follow him, you crossed to Tim, ready to say goodbye.

“Have a good weekend kid. Call me if you need anything. No matter the time.” Tim whispers, hugging you close as you squeeze back softly.

“Really?” You whisper back, not ready to break the hug just yet.

“Really. If you need me, I’ll be there.” Tim says reassuringly, giving you one final squeeze before releasing you from the hug. Once you step back from the embrace, you whisper a quiet goodbye before following Steve out to his car, prepping yourself for what might be to come.

The moment Steve parks outside his house, he turns to look at you, an expectant look on his face.

“So, did you find anything?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as you clear your throat nervously.

“I couldn’t get through to anyone on social media.” You lie, fighting the urge to fiddle with your fingers so Steve wouldn’t catch on to your lies.

“You really are fucking useless, aren’t you? No fucking wonder my brother wanted nothing to do with you.” Steve says angrily, getting out of the car and slamming the door behind him while you scramble to follow behind him, not wanting to be locked out.

“What about your friends? Do they not know anyone?” You ask, wondering if the people who had spent the weekend would know anyone.

“Of course they do. I wanted to get in with the big dealers and you’ve fucked that up for me.” He says, fury evident in his voice as you both enter the house. You longed to correct him, to tell him that the kids you knew in the home would’ve only been lowly members of their gangs and drug groups. None of them would’ve been on speaking terms with the big dealers in the area. But you didn’t dare voice that to Steve, he was already pissed off enough with your failure and you didn’t dare poke the bear further. So instead you elect to head to your room, ready to hide away for the weekend but Steve soon calls out to you.

“Phone. Now. You know the rules.” He says, arm outstretched and hand open as he waits for you to give him your phone. You begrudgingly pull your phone out of your pocket and place it in Steve’s hand, wishing you had the strength to stand up to him. Once he snatches the phone from you, you turn tail and return to your room, ready for another long weekend.

The Friday night was nothing different to the previous weekend, Steve’s friends had come around and they spent the night getting drunk and high while blasting music. But Saturday night was different.

The whole day had been a bad one, Steve had caught you trying to sneak food, trying to leave the house to buy food, whatever you tried he somehow caught you in the process. As evening fell you knew Steve was in the worst mood possible and even when his friends began to arrive, his mood still wasn’t improving. You remained in your room, listening to the yells as he and his friends watched the football game and the more you had to listen to him getting angrier and angrier, the more you just wanted to get out of this house. Eventually, around the early hours of the morning, when the outside got quieter, you knew everyone had passed out so you could sneak out into the house and find your phone. You made a beeline for Steve’s room, unsurprised to find it empty, knowing he was likely asleep in the living room. You rummaged through drawers, eventually finding your phone hidden in his bedside table. Once you had the phone in your possession, you shoved it into your pocket and bolted out of the room and just as you made it to your bedroom door, you heard footsteps behind you.

“What are you doing?” You whip around to see Steve standing before you, arms folded across his chest as he glared down at you.

“I just needed to use the bathroom.” You stammer, slowly trying to back towards your bedroom door, your nose wrinkling with the overwhelming stench of alcohol coming from Steve.

“I’m so fucking fed up with you. You’ve been testing me all day. I think it’s time I taught you a lesson.” Steve says lowly, making you bolt into your room, locking the door behind you as you begin to hear Steve pounding on the door. You scramble to hide in the closet, pulling out your phone and calling Tim.

Tim woke up the moment he heard his phone ringing. His hand reached for his phone before his eyes were even open but the moment he opened his eyes and saw your name displayed across his phone, he picked up the call instantly.

“y/n, is everything okay?” Tim asks worriedly, already beginning to sit up in bed.

“Tim…” Your voice was thick with tears and Tim was immediately leaping out of bed and scrambling to get changed.

“y/n/n, talk to me, kid. What’s wrong?” Tim urges softly, unlocking his safe and grabbing his off-duty weapon as well as his radio.

“Steve is drunk, and probably high too and he- I upset him…” You say, more tears slipping down your cheeks and when you pause, Tim hears violent shouts and pounding on the door and he knows he has to help you.

“Okay, can you send me your location? I’m coming to get you.” Tim says, making his way to the front door. His phone soon pings and when he checks his phone he sees your location displayed.

“Please hurry Tim.” You whisper, trembling as Steve continues to pound on the door.

“I’m coming, kid. Are you hiding somewhere?” Tim asks as he grabs his truck keys.

“I’m hiding in the closet and I locked my bedroom door.” You say, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“That’s good. Now, don’t open your door or anything until you hear me tell you it’s safe to come out. Got it?” Tim instructs.

“Okay.” You reply, sniffling slightly as you try to wipe the never-ending tears away. You hear Tim radio for help and the sounds of him getting in his truck. Tim stayed on the phone the whole way to your location, meeting the night shift officers who responded to his radio for help.

“y/n, I’m going to hang up now. Remember what I said.” Tim warns, bidding you a quiet goodbye before ending the call and crossing to the officers who were beginning to get ready to raid the house.

“We’ve got to get in there. My kid’s in there.” Tim says, approaching the officers while checking his gun.

“Do we know how many people are in the house Officer Bradford?” One of them asks, glancing over at Tim.

“Other than y/n I know there’s at least one other person in the house and he’s the threat. I want to get y/n out of there right now.” Tim says firmly, not wanting to waste time when he knows you’re in danger. Thankfully, the officers had finished getting ready and so they breached the house, stirring all the passed-out occupants and while they got rounded up, Tim went in search of you. He made his way through the house, gun in hand as he followed the shouts and slams, eventually finding Steve standing outside your bedroom door, a knife glistening under the hall light.

“Drop the knife!” Tim yells, holding his gun up as Steve turns around to face him, the anger evident on his face.

“Oh, that bitch.” He growls angrily, turning around to pound his fist against the door a couple more times.

“Hey. Drop the knife now.” Tim repeats his instruction, gun still expertly trained on Steve.

“Make me.” Steve taunts, glancing over his shoulder with a menacing grin before focusing his attention back on your bedroom door. At Steve’s taunt, Tim decides he’s had enough. He knew it was the opposite of a good idea to charge someone with a knife but judging from the stench all around the house, Tim had a feeling Steve was intoxicated with both drugs and alcohol. Tim’s aggressive charge sent both men clear through the bedroom door and caused Steve to drop the knife he had been clutching. Due to Steve’s intoxication, Tim was easily able to gain the upper hand and forced Steve onto his stomach, pulling his arms behind his back and handcuffing him.

“You’re under arrest,” Tim says firmly, fighting not to let satisfaction sneak into his voice as he straightened up just as another police officer entered the room.

“The house is clear.” The officer says, hauling Steve to his feet and beginning to lead him out while Steve swears and glares.

“Good. Now get him out of here.” Tim says, glancing around the room and locating the closet you had said you were hiding in as the officer led Steve out of the room.

“y/n, it’s safe to come out now,” Tim says softly and at his words, you come barrelling out of the closet and straight into Tim’s outstretched arms. When he feels your legs buckle, he eases the two of you to the ground, holding you close, one hand braced on the back of your head as he holds you.

“I was so scared, Dad.” You whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cling to him. Tim heard what you had called him but he chose not to bring attention to it, knowing you just needed comfort in that moment.

“You did the right thing by calling me. He’s not going to get near you again.” Tim vows, cradling you impossibly closer as you tremble in his arms.

“I should’ve told you sooner. But I was so scared that you’d get hurt.” You say quietly, squeezing your eyes shut as they begin to sting from the amount of tears building in your eyes.

“Hey, let me worry about myself. It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around.” Tim assures you softly, glancing over his shoulder when he hears footsteps behind him and unconsciously holds you closer.

“Officer Bradford. We need to take a statement from y/n. Is that okay?” The officer that is standing in the doorway asks tentatively as Tim lets out a small sigh. He knew it was protocol, and that it was best for you to give a statement soon after the events since they’re still fresh but he wasn’t prepared to have to leave your side for it. Just as Tim opens his mouth to ask for a little bit more time, you speak up.

“I’ll do it.” You say quietly, pulling away from the embrace slightly to look up at Tim, offering him a small, teary smile to reassure him you’d be okay. Tim regards you for a second before sighing softly and nodding.

“You head outside to give your statement. I’ll gather your stuff.” Tim says, getting to his feet and helping you up in the process. You nod shyly at his words before Tim pulls you into a quick reassuring hug before letting you follow the police officer outside to give your statement. Once you’re gone from sight, Tim focuses on packing your belongings, putting everything in your bag and slinging it over his shoulder once the bag is fully packed. Tim then exits the house, slowly approaching the group of police cars, and sees you standing opposite a police detective, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you recount every event of what had happened earlier. Tim watched from a distance, making sure you could see him but he kept enough distance so he couldn’t hear what was being said. Eventually, the detective says something and you nod before crossing over to Tim, cheeks still tear-stained but you have stopped crying.

“You all done?” Tim asks quietly, holding you gently by the shoulders.

“Yeah. The detective said I might need to give more statements if they need more but they said they’d speak to you first about anything.” You say lifting your hand to wipe at your cheeks fiercely.

“Let’s get you home. I know Kojo’s missing you.” Tim says, attempting to lighten the mood a little, smiling when he sees a small smile appear on your face.

“I miss him too.” You say as Tim releases your shoulders, instead wrapping an arm around you to guide you to his truck. You get into the truck, just wanting to go home and forget everything that had happened. The drive was filled with the rumble of the engine and the radio playing lowly as you watched the world go by. When you finally get home, you were exhausted yet you didn’t want to go to sleep. Tim unlocked the front door and Kojo was soon greeting you at the door, whining happily as you greeted him with a smile.

“I might stay up a little while. I want to take my mind off everything.” You say quietly as Tim closes the front door behind him, both of you kicking your shoes off.

“Do you want some company? I’m happy to stay up with you.” Tim offers, making a small smile appear on your face.

“That would be nice. I was going to watch a lighthearted movie or something. Is that okay?” You ask, nervous as to what Tim’s response might be.

“That’s fine. Whatever you need to do to decompress after tonight is your choice.” Tim says with a soft smile, making you let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” You say softly, both you and Tim then crossing to the living room and settling on the couch as you turn the tv on, opening a streaming site and searching for a movie to watch.

“Hey, y/n, before we start the movie. Could I talk to you about something?” Tim says, finally getting the courage to speak to you about the topic he’d been holding off on for two weeks now.

“What is it?” You ask, putting the remote down and leaning back on the couch.

“A couple of weeks ago when I dropped you off at school, before all this stuff with Steve, you said bye to me on your way out of the truck and it sounded like you almost called me ‘Dad’ before you corrected yourself. And then you called me ‘Dad’ again earlier tonight.” Tim explains, keeping his voice soft so you don’t get the wrong idea. As Tim talks, you feel your cheeks heat up, you knew about your slip-up at school but you had no recollection of actually calling him dad earlier.

“I’m so sorry. I know it’s probably not what you want. I won’t do it again.” You say, apologising as you reach out to pet Kojo to distract yourself.

“Don’t apologise. It’s actually an honour that you see me as a father figure. I think of you as my own daughter. You can call me whatever makes you comfortable. And if ‘Dad’ is something you’re comfortable with calling me. Then that’s okay with me.” Tim says, seeing the small smile that grows across your face as you nod, thanking Tim quietly before he pulls you into a quick hug.

“Now, let’s watch this movie shall we?” Tim then says, scooping the remote off the coffee table and hitting play on the movie you had queued up before settling back on the sofa. As the movie progresses, Tim becomes aware of you yawning and while he knew you weren’t ready to go to your own bed for the night, he didn’t want to deny you the space to stretch out on the sofa.

“You know, if you want to lie down you can. I don’t mind.” Tim says softly, drawing your attention away from the tv for a second as you tilt your head slightly.

“Are you sure?” You ask, wanting to be sure Tim was okay with it.

“Positive,” Tim says softly, grabbing the blanket from behind him and laying it over you as you settle across the sofa, laying your head against his leg, curling up while you focused on the screen. Over the next twenty minutes, you felt your eyelids grow heavy and while you would’ve normally fought to stay awake, you were comforted by the presence of both Tim and Kojo. You knew you were safe and that Tim wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt you. Comforted by those thoughts, you allowed yourself to slowly fall asleep.

It took Tim a few minutes to realise you had fallen asleep. It was only when he realised how quiet you had fallen that he thought to check on you and he softened when he saw you asleep. After the conversation he had with you about calling him ‘Dad’, he couldn’t help but care for you even more. Growing up, Tim’s only example of a dad was his own pathetic excuse of a father so Tim had grown up terrified that he was bound to go down a similar path, but since fostering you, Tim had discovered that being a father was something that came naturally to him and he proved to himself that he was nothing like the man who raised him. After watching you for a moment, Tim lets out a gentle sigh before reaching for his phone, opening his texts and finding Kiara’s number, typing out a message to her before hitting send.

‘I want to move forward with adopting y/n.’

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@starlightandsouls @whirlwind2005

what a little cutie patootie

😭😭

CUTEEEEE‼️‼️

Walk Dates

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (+ Kojo and r's service dog)

Summary: You and your service dog meet Tim and Kojo during a walk. The dogs force you and Tim to keep meeting, but neither of you mind. When you're late for a walk because of an emergency, Tim decides he would like to be more than walk-buddies.

Warnings: r has a service dog for unspecified reasons, r passes out and goes to the hospital, mostly fluff! unplanned Shania Twain reference

Word Count: 2.8k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Match my shoes or complement?” you ask your dog.

She barks once and raises her left paw to point to the grey booties you’re holding. You nod and put the other pair away before kneeling before her. She raises one foot at a time so you can put her shoes on to protect her paws from the concrete outside. Your doctor told you going on walks could be beneficial for your mental and physical health, and your service dog seems to enjoy them just as much as you do.

“Ready to walk?” you ask as you stand.

Rather than barking to answer, she runs to the end cabinet in your kitchen and sits. Her leash and your small medical bag are inside, and you shake your head in amusement. Once your bag is on your back and her leash is clipped to her harness, you exit the back door and lock it behind you.

“Let’s go, girl.”

Tim sighs as he shifts his truck into park. His shift was hectic, but he knows Kojo has been trapped inside and would like a walk. The weather is nice today, so it would do Tim some good to get outside too, he thinks.

As Tim suspected, Kojo is bouncing excitedly and full of energy when he enters. Kojo runs to the shelf holding his harness and leash, then back to Tim. “I know, I know. Let’s do it, buddy,” Tim tells Kojo.

They leave a few minutes later, and Tim takes a deep breath as Kojo leads the way. The neighborhood isn’t busy this time of day, so Tim can relax a bit and follow Kojo rather than dictate where they go while actively looking for any threats.

Your service dog stops when another dog barks happily. You look away from the butterfly you were watching and smile when you see a man walking a dog. His dog seems interested in meeting your dog, and you click your tongue to signal her to keep walking.

“Kojo, no,” the man says, pulling the leash tight to his side.

“Hello,” you greet kindly.

“Hi,” the man replies, dipping his head in greeting. “Kojo.”

“Beautiful dog,” you add.

“He thinks that means he can do whatever he wants. Sorry, he likes meeting other dogs.”

“He’s fine,” you promise.

“She’s working, Kojo,” he whispers harshly.

“He can come over,” you offer. “She’s sweet, and she can multitask.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

The man loosens his grip on the leash and steps toward you. Your dog wags her tail quickly, slapping your leg every time she does. She sits, and Kojo flops down as they introduce themselves as dogs do.

You extend your right hand and tell the man your name and your dog’s name.

“I’m Tim, and that’s Kojo,” he replies. “We usually have more manners.”

Your dog steps over Kojo’s back legs to stand over him, and you chuckle as you say, “We don’t.”

“I haven’t seen you over here before.”

“Our walk times differ daily,” you explain. “I should start coming out now, though, because there’s no one else.”

“That’s why we love it.”

Your dog stands quickly and presses her nose into your thigh. Time to go home. “That’s my cue,” you tell Tim. “Maybe we’ll see you and Kojo on another walk soon.”

“That’d be nice. Enjoy the rest of your day,” Tim agrees. You smile as your dog leads you back the way you came. Tim is nice, his dog is adorable, and they exude comfort. You truly wouldn’t mind running into him again, you decide.

As you leave, Tim watches you go, and Kojo does too. Kojo looks up at Tim and pants happily.

“Good boy, Kojo,” Tim compliments. “But we need to talk about your manners. Service dogs can’t always hang out, bud.”

Kojo tilts his head as his ears perk, and Tim shrugs. He doesn’t know why you have a service dog, but it doesn’t matter. You do.

“We’re both going to be thinking about them for a while aren’t we?”

Kojo barks in return, and Tim sighs. There are worse things to think of.

Tim falls asleep thinking of you and wakes with a smile on his face. Kojo jumps onto his bed with his leash in his mouth, and Tim assumes he’s thinking about you and your dog, too. When Angela and Lucy started joking that Tim and Kojo were exactly the same, just different species, he didn’t expect to prove them right so easily.

“Fine, fine,” Tim concedes when Kojo moves to stand on his chest. “A quick walk before work. They won’t be there, though.”

Tim shakes his head as Kojo leads him to the same stretch of sidewalk where they met you last night. You’re nowhere to be seen, as expected, but Kojo keeps walking.

“Good morning, Kojo.”

Tim looks up quickly when he hears your voice, and your smile is stronger than any coffee he’s ever tried. He returns your smile and steps closer. Kojo greets your dog happily, and they step into the grass-covered yard beside you.

“Good morning to you, too, Tim,” you add.

“Good morning. Didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“This one couldn’t stop thinking about Kojo,” you explain, pointing to your dog. “And my doctor wants me to walk more, so win-win.”

“They’re best friends now, aren’t they?” Tim asks.

You turn at the same time as him, and your arm presses against his as you watch your dogs play together.

“They certainly are. Do you think they’ll keep waking us up to see each other?”

“Kojo will.”

“She will, too.”

“Well, I have to get to work, but it was great seeing you. Kojo appreciates your early morning walk.”

“What do you do?” You scrunch your nose and add, “Sorry, if that’s too personal you don’t have to answer.”

“Not at all,” Tim assures. “I’m a cop.”

“I knew it,” you reply.

“What about you?”

You give him a quick overview of what you do but leave out the part where sometimes your dog won’t let you. She does her job a bit too well sometimes and she’s already pulled you away from Tim once.

“Have a good day at work, Tim,” you say. “See you around.”

“You, too.”

Over the next week, you and Tim meet on walks once or twice a day. Your dog seems attuned to Kojo’s schedule and leads you to Tim every time you go for a walk. Within a week, you and Tim decide to walk together rather than stand in one place and interrupt your walks.

“I- this may be too forward,” Tim begins as you walk beside him.

“May not be,” you counter.

“Would you want to exchange numbers? It could be easier to let these two partners in crime meet up if we can talk before,” he suggests.

“Don’t call them partners in crime! Then you’d have to arrest them.”

“I’m sure they’d get off with a warning.”

“Tim!” You chuckle before agreeing to exchange numbers.

When your fingers brush Tim’s as you hand him your phone, you suddenly understand why your dog wants to see him and Kojo every day. You could get used to life at his side.

“I tried to leave last night to run to the store, but Kojo wouldn’t let me pass his leash,” Tim tells you as he returns your phone. “Had to take him for a walk before I could go get dinner.”

“Is he that convincing?” you inquire.

“He’s that bossy.”

“I wonder if he gets it from you,” you muse playfully.

“His former owner. Friend of mine from work, so I can blame that on her.”

“But all of his good traits are from you?” you guess.

Tim shrugs with a smile, and you bump your shoulder against his. These walks are doing you more good than your doctor anticipated. Your dog hasn’t alerted you to any health-related threats in days, which you attribute directly to walking with Tim and Kojo.

“Tim…” could we be more than neighbors who walk their dogs together?

Tim says your name, matching your tone as you return to your starting place.

“I just wanted to ask if we could meet again tonight. For another walk, to wear them out before bed?” you suggest, rather than saying what you want to.

“Text me the time.”

You nod and return home with a smile on your face. Though you have plenty you could do, you waste most of the day staring at the clock and looking forward to meeting Tim and Kojo again.

The leash hangs limply from your hand after you retrieve it from the cabinet. Your health took a sudden dip about an hour ago, but you’re trying to stay strong enough for the walk. Paws thud on the floor behind you, and when she presses her snout firmly into your thigh, you lower your hand toward her head.

“I know,” you mumble weakly. “I know, girl. But we can walk, right?”

She barks before she tugs on your shirt with her teeth. You shake your head, and she wraps a paw around your calf. Despite your need to see Tim, you know she’s right, and you carefully lower to the floor. As soon as you sit, your dog licks your cheek and presses her nose to your chest, but her whines are muffled as your eyes flutter closed.

Tim has never been more excited to walk Kojo than he is today. He had a rough day at work, so he doesn’t hesitate to take Kojo out as soon as he arrives home. They get to your meeting spot early and wait. As your suggested time comes and goes, Kojo gets antsy. Tim pulls his phone from his pocket, but he doesn’t have any messages from you. He sends you one, but it goes unread until he turns the screen off.

Kojo starts pulling on his leash a few minutes later. His nose is lowered to the ground, so Tim gives him some slack in his leash. Kojo walks through your usual route but passes the place where you and Tim part ways. He stops in front of a house several blocks from Tim’s and looks at the yard before he leads Tim to the door.

“What are you doing, Kojo?” Tim asks.

A dog barks inside, and as the barking continues, growing louder as the dog nears the door, Tim recognizes the sound of the bark. It’s your dog. She scratches against the door and whines, and Tim realizes that if you’re late and your service dog is upset in your house, something happened to you.

He leads Kojo off the porch and calls for an ambulance as he rounds the house. The side door is unlocked, and as Kojo steps inside, Tim sees your hand against the floor, with a leash beside it. Tim pushes the door open quickly and barely manages to catch it before it breaks the window behind it. Tim drops Kojo’s leash, and Kojo lies beside your legs to provide comfort to you and himself. Tim has known for over a week that Kojo loves you but seeing you like this makes Tim question how he feels about you.

Tim says your name but gets no answer. “Hey, girl,” he tells your dog instead. “What do I need to do? Show me.”

She presses her nose against your pulse point, and Tim follows suit on the other side. Your heart rate is elevated, and your slumped position is likely making it hard to breathe. Tim gently moves you into a more comfortable position as Kojo moves with you.

Your dog moves away from you and pulls a cabinet open before dragging a small backpack to Tim. He unzips it and sees medication, water with minerals and electrolytes, and a small booklet with instructions on what to do in case something like this happens.

Tim lays the book open and begins working through the recommended actions. In his mind, he pleads with you – begs you – to come back to him. He can hear the sirens on the ambulance approaching when you finally blink your eyes open.

“Tim?” you ask softly. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t meet us on the walk,” he answers. “Kojo got worried.”

“Just Kojo?” you ask knowingly, brushing a thumb over the crease between Tim’s eyebrows.

“Ambulance is here,” Tim tells you. “You’re gonna be okay.”

You see your bag beside him and whisper to thank him. “Sorry, I missed our walk.”

“You’ll have to make it up to me when you feel better,” he replies.

His hand slips into yours as you and your dog are taken to the ambulance. He asks the EMTs which hospital they’re taking you to before he kisses your temple and heads back into your house to clean up the mess he made. The deep scratches on your front door will have to wait, but he was nearly as upset as your dog when he got inside. Kojo whines at the door with his leash dragging behind him, but Tim says, “We have to wait. She’ll call when she’s ready.”

The moment you get discharged, you call Tim. He agrees to pick you up before you even ask, and he and Kojo are waiting for you in the lobby when you’re pushed out of the elevator in a wheelchair.

“You can still walk, right?” Tim checks.

“Yes,” you promise. “And I’ll need lots of walks to feel better.”

Tim frowns, and you rush to tell him that you’re teasing. You feel much better, thanks to him, and the doctors said he helped you properly and with plenty of time to spare.

“They think I should keep you around,” you add quietly.

“Kojo would happily become your second service dog,” Tim replies.

“Thank you, Tim,” you say as he helps you into his truck. “For everything.”

He nods once before closing the door, and you sit back to watch Kojo get comfortable beside your dog in the backseat. He would look cute in a service vest and booties.

After a few days of hourly check-in messages from Tim, you feel as good as new. You text Tim as you leave your house, and inhale deeply as you enjoy your first walk since your impromptu hospital visit. Your doctor scolded you for even trying to leave when you knew that you needed to act, but when she heard you talking to Tim, she understood why you put someone else before yourself. You’re not supposed to do that again, though, doctor’s orders.

“Hey,” Tim greets when you turn a corner.

“Hi,” you reply. “Care to join us for a walk?”

“We’d love to.”

As you walk side-by-side with Tim, you allow your arm to press against his and your hands to brush as you move along the sidewalk. You talk to Tim about his day, he asks about yours, and along the way, you lose track of time. When you notice the sun dipping below the horizon, you realize that it’s time to get home.

“I needed this, Tim. Thank you,” you tell him as your turn to return home.

“Let me walk you home,” he offers. “Kojo and I can’t let two lovely ladies walk home alone in the dark.”

“Well, thank you.” After a few steps, you remember that you never told Tim where you live. “How did you find me?” you ask.

“I didn’t. Kojo did. He’s obsessed with you.”

“The feeling is mutual, Kojo,” you tell him.

His tail wags faster at your attention, and you chuckle as Tim shakes his head. It seems like you reach your house much faster than usual, and it’s time to say goodbye to Tim and Kojo again.

“Would you like to go on a date?” Tim asks quickly as you stop by your door. “With the dogs?”

You open your mouth to reply, but Tim continues talking before you can.

“These walks are nice, but I’d like to try something more… if you’re willing,” he finishes.

You smile as you open your door. Leaning against it to keep it open, you say, “I’m willing. As long as the dogs are there.”

“Like they’d let us meet without them,” Tim scoffs.

“I’ll try not to have a medical emergency this time.”

“I’ll pick you up Friday night, around the same time as our walk?” Tim suggests.

“Sounds perfect. Goodnight, Tim, Kojo.”

“Goodnight,” Tim replies. As he turns to lead Kojo home, he says, “Say goodnight to our girls, Kojo.”

Our girls. You smile long after Tim leaves. If the walks impacted you this much, dating Tim will make spending time away from him and Kojo infinitely harder.

You text Tim before you fall asleep, looking forward to your first real date.

What happened to letting service dogs work?

Just before you drift off, you read Tim’s reply and your smile grows.

We’re her number 1 helpers. Besides, someone had to encourage you to take those walks your doc recommended.

A picture of Tim and Kojo accompanies the message, and suddenly, Friday seems an eternity away. You’ll just have to take as many walks as possible between now and then.

CUTEEEEE🥺🥺❤️❤️

- staying with mom ✰ e. diaz

Summary: the first time Christoper calls you mom 

Genre: mostly fluff but smidge of angst/tension

warnings: none

Pairing: eddie diaz x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

Notes: hi hi i tried to use american terms like mall and mom, but i am not american and i say mum, so if you notice any slip ups pls let me know and i will change it. I feel like it would be weird to picture chris saying mum in an american accent so i tried to only used mom   Also i have started watched the walking dead and am obsessed so pls feel free to request some fics for the walking dead (i’m halfway through s7)

When you and Eddie started dating, you waited quite a while before meeting Chris as you wanted to be sure in your relationship so as not to unsettle Chris. After about 8 months, you were pretty sure Eddie was it for you, and you eventually met Chris. Within 6 months of meeting Christopher you had pretty much moved in with the boys, and when the lease on your apartment was up for renewal Chris was the one who suggested you move in. That was over a year ago and since then the three of you had been living life as a happy little family. 

Today, you had a day off from work but Eddie did not, so you had decided to take Chris out for the day. For weeks, Chris had been saying his shoes were starting to get tight so you had decided you would take him to buy some new shoes and buy him a couple extra treats. It wasn’t often you and Eddie weren’t both at work at the same time, even if you didn’t have the same shift, you often overlapped so Chris would spend time with Carla.

Eddie was at work before you even woke up, so you and Chris had a slow morning before heading to the mall. The car journey was filled with music and laughs, you loved spending time with Chris and you guys always had an amazing time. 

Once you got to the mall you found yourself chasing Christoper, the shoe shop was all the way on the other side of the mall so you had decided to do fun shopping first. The first stop was at the ice cream parlor, and then the two of you made your way quickly over to the lego shop. You both bought a lego set, as you planned to watch a movie and build lego together in the afternoon. Once the pair of you had gone to all the shops you wanted to, you slowly walked back to the car, trying to agree on a movie to watch while you were building your legos. 

You were nearly at the car, when the ground started to rumble. Small tremors weren;t uncommon living in LA, but this was not that. The slight rumble turned to full blown shaking and the lights in the parking garage started to come loose and smash to the floor. You quickly dropped your bags and grabbed Christopher and headed for the car, it might not have been the smartest idea but in your panic it seemed like the safest option if the garage was to crumble. 

Somehow, you managed to get to the car in record time as you were opening the door, you noticed a piece of debris falling and you quickly pushed Chris into the car. Within seconds of you getting Chris safely into the car, the debris had come down, knocking you down in the process. You hit your head on the concrete and briefly lost consciousness, but you quickly came around to the sounds of Chris’s cries. 

“I’m here Chris, I’m okay,” you mumbled as you tried to wriggle free. Although, your right leg was trapped under the piece of the parking garage that had knocked you to the floor.

Not long after you regained consciousness, sirens were all you could hear and it became nearly impossible to keep your eyes open, and you were soon consumed by the darkness.

“Cap, get Eddie over here!” You heard being yelled from close by. Squinting at the bright light you started to blink your eyes back open and were met with Buck’s face looking down at you. 

“Chris, is Chris okay?” you forced out, your throat was hoarse and felt as though you had woken from a deep sleep. You could feel yourself being rolled onto a stretcher, presumably to move you to an ambulance, or at least a safer area. 

“Chris was with you?” Buck panicked. 

“I think I got him in the car,” you coughed, “Check him first.”

A couple minutes later you heard a car door be forced open, and then Buck’s shouts. 

“Chris!” Eddie’s shouts were so loud. He had arrived onto the scene and saw Buck carrying Chris over some rubble away from the car. You turned your head slowly and saw Eddie embrace his son tightly. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Eddie suddenly asked. The panic in his voice was palpable.

“Over here,” You heard Buck’s voice get louder as he led Eddie to you. Eddie placed Chris down next to your stretcher and cradled your face.

“Baby, are you okay?” he questioned, whilst scanning your body for any obvious injuries. 

“My leg got crushed but I’m fine. How is Chris? Is Chris okay?” you spoke so fast. 

“I’m fine,” you heard Chris speak. You could have cried with relief upon hearing his voice. You had seen Eddie carry him, but hearing him speak and confirming he was okay made you so happy.

“Now, let get you taken to hospital, Buck can you take Chris to Athena and get her to call Carla please,” Eddie said as he began to wheel you out of the area. You saw Buck begin to usher Chris towards Athena who you could see a while away directing people. 

“No.”

You and Eddie both stopped and looked at Chris who was avoiding Buck and walking towards the two of you. 

“Chris, bud, y/n is okay. Your dad is just making sure she gets her leg checked out,” Buck tried to convince Chris.

“No,” Chris shook off Buck’s arms and carried on walking in your direction. Eddie sighed, letting go of your stretcher and turning to Chris before squatting down to his level while holding onto him. 

“Chris, I need to take y/n to get checked out. Can you please go with Buck?” Eddie begged.

“No.” Chris was being stubborn. 

“Chris please,” Eddie was starting to get desperate.

“I want to stay with mom.” Chris yelled. 

You, Buck and Eddie all went still. Suddenly, the atmosphere had changed. Chris had never called you mom before. The three of you all looked at each other in shock unsure what to say or do next.

“Come here Chris,” you beckoned the boy, before helping him to sit on one side of the stretcher after you had collapsed the arms, “You can stay with me.”

Eddie was still looking at you in shock, starting to feel love swell in his chest. The idea that Chris saw you as a mother figure made him so happy. 

“Chris, it looks like your dad is frozen,” you laughed whilst looping one of your arms around the boy. You had managed to get him in a place where he wasn’t near your leg which was causing excruciating pain. 

This brought Eddie out of his shock and he walked over to the two of you.

“I love you both so much,” he breathed as he leant to kiss both of your foreheads, “Let’s go get mom all checked out.” 

their banter is the best thing i have ever read, i’m obsessed😭 i love the way the tease each other, it is so cute

Home, Sweet Home – Dick Grayson x Reader

A/N: wjsksksksjd hi. almost 6k of dick grayson flirty fluff. restraint??? i don't know her. i've never heard of her. but i'm back on my dick grayson / jason todd bullshit so! is this ooc?? probably. do i care?? no. did i just want to write some fun flirty charming boyfriend dick grayson fluff because i'm in love with him?? yes. so here you go. shout out to @bvcksmunson for reading this for me before i posted i love you shan!!!!! sorry for any mistakes or typos or wHatever and sorry if you read this in advance !!!! <3 mwah big kiss.

W/C: 5.8k

Warnings: language, sex references because it's me what did we expect, slight references to violence (hopefully i got everything, if not let me know!!)

likes, comments and rbs are very much appreciated !!! <3

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Dick is quick to react to your harsh greeting, throwing himself against your refrigerator dramatically, one hand gripping at the metal corner while the other clutches at his heart through the thick material of his suit. You watch him with raised eyebrows as he sinks down to your kitchen floor with a groan, biting back a smile because you'd hate for him to see that his little display more than amuses you; you're not sure you could live with yourself if you let him have that ego boost.

Dick Grayson is a major pain in your ass, but you'd be lying if you said you're not happy to see your boyfriend.

The hand on his chest flops to the floor, his legs spread out in a V shape, and he leans his head back against your refrigerator, eyes closed. It's quiet between the two of you as you watch him play dead, occasionally cracking open his right eye to make sure you're still watching before screwing it shut again.

You've let him have his moment; indulged in the dramatics enough to satisfy him you think, so you fold your arms over your chest and cock your head, asking, "Are you finished?"

Dick gasps for air suddenly, hyperventilating and choking for at least a minute before hurling his body with a loud thump. He lays on his back, arms and legs splayed out across your kitchen floor. One final, strained breath, and he falls silent again.

Oh, the poor fuckers in the apartment below.

You unfold your arms and give him a slow round of applause as you make your way towards him, looking down at him from above. "Wow. That was really something. I mean, what a show. Truly."

Blue eyes open to meet your own. He's already discarded the domino mask, left it sitting on your countertop along with an array of loose items from his suit. You can tell he's trying so desperately to keep a straight face as you stare down at him. "It's not a show. You've wounded me." He tells you.

You pout, mockingly. "Aw. You poor thing. Give me a minute and I'll cry about it."

"Feels like I've been shot through the heart."

With a roll of your eyes you step around him, opening the cupboard above the sink and grabbing a glass. "Don't tempt me. I might think about actually shooting you next time."

He springs to his feet as you flip the tap on, your back to him while you fill your glass. "Wow. A cold welcome and a threat. Is that any way to greet your favourite boyfriend?" You can practically hear the boyish grin in his tone.

You spin around, leaning against your counter, finally getting a good look at him. He's standing just over a metre away from you, hands on his hips with a smile on his lips that reaches from ear to ear. His black hair is ruffled, falling in his face; probably a consequence of the wind working against him on the way over to your place. There's a few scratches on his cheeks, and one on his chin, but that does nothing to take away from the fact that he's so damn handsome. You know it, and he does too. It's something you curse him for whenever he's around; it makes you falter, you lose your edge a little.

"Who says you're my favourite boyfriend?" You raise the glass to your lips and take a small sip. You're not particularly thirsty, it's more of a tactical move to distract yourself from caving into him immediately; a way to mask the smile that's been teetering on the edge since you saw him stood in your kitchen, raiding through the fridge before you caught him and he began his little performance.

Dick is unfazed by your slightly cutting words, however unserious they are. He knows he's your only boyfriend, there's no one in Blüdhaven who could even begin to compete with him. That grin of his refuses to shift as he asks, "Did I crack the top ten?"

"Barely. I'd place you at number nine."

He shrugs, "Good enough for me. Just don't tell me about these other boyfriends. I don't think my poor heart could take it."

You'll never resist an opportunity to wind him up, so you glance up at the ceiling and sigh, heavy and dreamy, "Well, the guy at number one—..."

Before you can conjure up a fake name and story for your very fake other boyfriend, he's already taken two long strides towards you, trapping you between his body and the counter. He raises his gloved hand up to your face, running it across your cheek down to your jaw, before pressing his index finger against your lips. "Didn't I just tell you not to tell me about your other boyfriends?"

Had anyone else tried their luck in silencing you, attempted to tell you what to do, you're certain you'd have them laid out in ten seconds, flat. Maybe five, if you're feeling particularly vicious. Dick Grayson is the exception. You've known him for years, been dating him for almost three, yet you still enjoy the back and forth of it all; that 'thrill of the chase' feeling is still there, and it still excites both of you just as much as it did all those years ago.

So you play along, a smirk on your lips, "I've never really liked being told what to do."

Dick chuckles quietly, "Don't I know that."

"Yeah. You do." More than anyone.

Your history with him is a long one.

It started back when you were operating in and around Blüdhaven under the alias 'Thorn'. Not very original, you know, and Nightwing made sure to remind you of that every time your paths crossed. You were a little spiteful, feeling as though Nightwing's transfer to Gotham's so called 'ugly sister city' made all the hard work you'd put into protecting the city look like nothing in comparison. You got on his radar pretty quickly, tracking his leads and making sure you got to them first, just to see the look on his face when he turned up and realised he was too late, that you'd already handled the situation. Sure, you didn't have half of the technology that he had from the big, bad Batman himself, but you still found a way to get the job done.

It continued like this for a while; the two of you working against each other, trying to be smarter and faster – better – than the other. Until you came across a threat bigger than the both of you, and a reluctant partnership was established. It was supposed to be a one night only kind of thing, but it quickly spiralled into an every night ordeal, with a sexual tension between the two of you that could've given Hollywood a run for it's money. He'd try and give orders – Batman style – and most of the time you'd blatantly defy him, because you've never really been the type to follow orders, and you knew he got a kick out of it, too.

You really, truly tried to keep your distance, to not allow yourself to be taken in by his dumb flirty comments, his cheesy grin whenever he made you smile, or that light blush that crept across his cheeks whenever you decided to have your own fun with him and flirt back. You tried really hard not to stare at his ass when you thought he wasn't looking, too. But were you ever going to tell him no when he pushed you up against the wall in a dark, wet back alley after a particularly stressful mission, hopped up on adrenaline and just aching for a release?

No, you weren't; you definitely didn't deny him.

It was nice. You were fine with quick, desperate sex in the most private place you could find after a mission followed by a night of sitting on rooftops, talking about anything and everything. One night, he unmasked himself, told you who he really was, and you returned the favour with little to no hesitation because you liked him – despite the embarrassment you felt about having a silly little crush – and you trusted him, most importantly.

It was an unspoken thing for the most part; you were both more than okay with avoiding the 'boyfriend' label because you liked being independent, and Dick – well he seemed to have commitment issues that were, truthfully, unmatched. Which is why it came as a surprise to you when he slipped through your apartment window one night (the one you leave unlocked purposefully for him), crawled into bed next to you and told you very sincerely that he wanted to try 'the boyfriend thing' – he wanted it to be just you and him. You're not sure what brought on his little outburst of romance, but you never doubted him when he told you he loved you that night.

You hung up your suit a year later, choosing to move on from your days of protecting the city, opting instead for a life of normality. Well, as much normality as you could get whilst dating Blüdhaven's very own Bird Boy. It felt right, but a small part of you feared Dick would get bored of you and your new oh-so-normal life – that he wouldn't want to stick around and just exist with you. Your fears were unwarranted, though, because nothing changed for either of you.

Dick is still here, with you; he's still aching for your love and your touch and your everything. You share an apartment. The cupboards are stocked with continental condiments, shelves full of weird knick knacks and multicoloured ornaments he's found abandoned over the years on his nightly patrols. The walls are lined with little plaques that read 'Live, Laugh, Love' and 'Home Sweet Home'; things he claimed to find funny and you detested for the longest time until it hit you one day that he really just loves having a place – a person – to call his. Somewhere he can just be with someone who loves him unconditionally.

As you look up into his eyes, his finger still on your lips, you can't help but think how truly head over heels you are for him, and you know he feels the same. Blüdhaven is, to be frank, a wasteland. Full of grime and grit, with a tainted history that it just can't seem to shake off – one that continues to this day. Dick Grayson is the one thing that keeps you grounded to this city; makes you feel like all of the hours, blood, sweat and tears you poured into the city to protect the people was all worth it, because you found each other. He's the bright light shining above the darkness, the only thing that keeps you here and still has you calling it your home.

But despite your feelings towards him, you still take every opportunity you can to bite at him – literally.

You bat your eyelashes at him and part your lips, taking the tip of his gloved finger into your mouth. He visibly tenses when your tongue swirls against the leather; lets out a breath – almost a moan, when you suck ever so slightly. You're insistent on maintaining eye contact, but he's struggling to look you in the eyes as his face flushes bright red.

You bite down.

Not too harsh, but also not so gentle. It's enough to stun him, makes him jump away from you rather comically. You break out into a laugh while he shakes his hand, looking at you like you've just made him suffer through the ultimate betrayal.

"Ow." He pouts.

Through your giggles, you say, "Aw, did that hurt you, Bird Boy?"

"A little." He mumbles, trying his utmost to keep that sad, little pout on his lips as he watches you laugh at his misery.

"You're a liar, Dick Grayson."

Dick scoffs, "I'm not lying." He points an accusatory finger at you, the same one you sank your teeth into moments ago, "You bite hard."

"You never complained about that before." You say with a shrug, chewing down on your bottom lip.

He raises his hands in surrender, because he knows you're right. "And I'm not about to."

"Good." You let out a content sigh and push yourself off the counter, stepping towards where he stands in the middle of the kitchen. "So what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in Gotham?"

Dick shrugs, "Just got back. I thought I'd fly by our apartment. No pun intended." But that dumb smirk on his lips tells you that he meant all pun intended. His hands move to your hips, pulling your body close to his. There's earnest in his voice when he tells you, "I missed you. A lot."

You smile up at him, your hands on his chest, fingers tracing the blue symbol on the front of his suit. "Missing someone you love is usually what happens when you haven't seen them in more than two weeks." You joke, poking at his chest.

Despite your lighthearted tone, his face still falls. Guilt clouds in his eyes, and his smirk flips into a sad, little frown. "I'm–..."

You stand on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his and cutting him off before he can even begin to apologise. He tastes like strawberry chapstick and all the coffee he's been drinking to keep himself awake over the last two weeks. It's a weird combination of flavours, but one that you've become so accustomed to that you wouldn't change it for the world.

You swear you hear him moan quietly against your lips as he kisses you, so desperate to touch you and be close to you and love you. He pulls you towards him by your hips, your body flush against his, so close you can almost hear – no feel, his heartbeat.

You relish in the moment, allowing him to take control for a second because you've missed him too. You started missing him the minute he left your apartment, Gotham bound. You've missed waking up beside him. His bed-head. His smile. The way he sings power ballads in the shower when he doesn't think you're listening, even though you are because how the hell are you not supposed to hear him? You've missed every single piece of him, and you're glad he's been returned to you in pristine condition.

You pull away from him before things can get too heated, before he can even think about slipping his tongue into your mouth and lifting you up on to the counter. Dick is breathless, already wound up. The pale skin of his cheeks flooded with heat that stains them crimson, and you can't help but take a second to appreciate how cute he looks like this. And he's looking at you – in all your glory, donning old pyjamas and a crazy bed head – like you're the most beautiful, precious thing he's ever laid his eyes on. It makes you feel weak in the knees.

"I missed you too." You mumble, pushing a few wayward strands of hair out of his face.

He sighs, "Listen, dove, I'm really–..."

You throw your head back, letting out a loud ugghhhh mixed in with a giggle. "Shut up. I don't need to hear the famous Dick Grayson 'I'm sorry' speech again."

"Things just got–..."

"A little crazy!" You walk away from him, heading out of the kitchen and into the living room area; he follows your trail like a lost puppy, as he always does. "I heard what happened. Read it in the Gazette. You don't have to apologise for it. I get it."

Dick stands next to the couch as you walk over to the open window that he slipped through earlier tonight, hands on his hips. "So... You're not mad at me? Not even annoyed?" He sounds unsure, as if he's just waiting for you to blow up at him, even though he knows you're past that point. Hell, you've never been at that point. You've always been understanding of him and his situation; you were in the same boat as him for god knows how long, struggling to keep a relationship because you couldn't seem to find a balance between your life in and out of the suit. You've never held it against him, and you wouldn't think about starting to.

You glance over your shoulder and give him a soft, sweet smile as reassurance while you try to shove the old, stiff single-hung window shut. "Your family's in Gotham, and they needed your help."

You've only met his strange, mis-matched Gotham family a handful of times, but you care about them like they're your own, because in a way they are. The first time you met them, after the initial surprise of finding out you're Thorn – 'the one Dickie-Bird never shuts the fuck up about', as Jason put it – they welcomed you with open arms, even Bruce. You receive regular check in texts from Cass (usually a meme), and Damian calls you demanding to speak with Dick whenever he suspects he's being purposefully ignored.

"I'd rather you be gone for two weeks straight than hear any bad news coming from Gotham. Especially about you or your family." You give the window one last, hard shove, stepping back when it finally closes with a thud. You turn your attention back to him, "So, no. Not even annoyed. But I do wish you'd close the window after yourself."

Dick shrugs, a small grin on his lips, "I think the breeze is nice."

You scoff, "It's not a breeze. It's wind. Seriously, if you don't start closing the window when you come in, I'm gonna lock it. I'm gonna make you use the entrance. You're gonna have to knock on the door to get in here."

He lets out the most petulant whine you've ever heard, one that you're sure he's used on Bruce one too many times to get his own way – it probably worked, too. "That's not fair."

You just whine back at him mockingly as you walk over to the couch and flop yourself down on your back. "Oh, how tragic. You'll have to use the door of the apartment we've been renting for over a year. My heart hurts for you."

"What if you're asleep?" He asks, folding his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised.

You shrug, smirking at him, "Then you'll have to wait outside allllll night until I wake up."

"What if it's an emergency?"

"Then you'll have to make sure you knock extra loud."

"You're so cruel to me. Always out to hurt poor Dickie's feelings." He climbs up onto the arm of the couch, knees pressing into the soft cushion, ready to drop his body onto yours and melt into you. But you stick your foot out before he can, pushing against his chest and keeping him stationary. He gives you a look of offence, slapping your foot gently in a weak attempt to make you move. You don't.

"Stop leaving the window open."

"I will." He affirms, tapping your foot again.

"Promise?"

"Yes. I promise." He says, with a childish roll of his eyes.

You narrow your eyes at him for a moment, a slight warning that tells him he better take his promise seriously, before dropping your foot. Without hesitation, he lets his body free fall on to yours, although careful not to crush you under his full weight. Still, you let out a quiet oof, because he's heavy – even heavier in that suit of his. You don't have time to think about asking him to shift his weight a little, because his legs are on either side of your body, hands have already found their way to your waist, and his lips are on yours in an instant.

Passionate and slow to begin with, making up for the weeks he's spent away from you; though it seems to turn heated quickly. You let him take the lead, allow him to nip on your bottom lip gently and slip his tongue into your mouth. You give him a minute to re-explore the familiar territory before you decide to have some fun of your own, biting down on his tongue gently and sucking against it. Dick lets out the most delicious, pathetic moan you've ever heard: one that has you giggling whilst pressing your thighs together in an attempt to keep yourself under control.

He pulls back, nose pressed against your own, shooting you a playful glare while your shoulders shake with quiet laughter. "What?" He asks, voice low and on the gruffer side, a bad cover up for what he'd just let slip from his throat seconds ago.

"Someone's excited tonight."

"Hm. Told you." He kisses your nose gently, then your cheek, trailing kisses all the way down to your jaw. "Missed you." He tucks his face into your neck, and you let out a gasp when you feel his tongue drag against the sensitive skin, your back arching into him. "'Nd m'sorry." He mumbles.

"I thought I told you not to apologise." You say, though it's strained; his lips are attached to your neck, and you're finding it hard to even think, let alone form sentences.

"I still wanted to."

You breathe out a laugh, though it turns into something of a moan when you feel his teeth scrape against your skin. "Can't help yourself, can you?"

"Nope." He says, popping the 'P'. Without warning, he bites down on the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder. You let out a noise – something between a yelp and a loud moan, and when you look down at him with a pout on your lips, he's grinning at you. "Payback."

"You're a fuckhead."

"You started it."

"....Touché."

You fall quiet, allowing him to continue on with his revenge attack on your neck, whimpering when he sucks down on your sweet spots; cursing under your breath when he slips his cold, gloved hand under the thin fabric of your shirt.

"Don't you have somewhere to be tonight?" You ask. A throwaway question, really. Just a cheap little dig at him to distract yourself from the fact he's getting you riled up.

But then he pauses, his whole body tensing for just a moment, before he answers with a, "No..."

And now your throwaway question is a serious inquiry. "So you do have somewhere you need to be tonight?"

He hums against your skin, "It can wait."

The truth is, it probably can't wait. You try not to read up on crime in Blüdhaven so often, try to keep your days of being a protecter of the city in the past as much as you can (Dick is the exception, of course), but even you know that the city has suffered massively from Nightwing's two week leave of absence in Gotham. Gang and mob activities began to rise the second he left; Blüdhaven always seems to deteriorate into madness when he's not around to keep everyone and everything in line.

With a sigh, you grab on to the back of his suit and pull him away from you, choosing to ignore his whiny protest, making him look at you. "If there's somewhere you need to be, you should go."

"I already told you. It can wait."

You smile at him, brows raised, "Can it? You've been gone for two weeks. You have a lot of catching up to do. Blühaven's really been missing its Boy Wonder."

Dick smirks, "Has it missed me as much as you?"

"I don't think that's possible. I've been crying, like, every day. Total devastation while you've been gone."

"And not a single word of comfort from your nine other boyfriends?" His jaw drops in mock disbelief. "I don't know why you like them more than me."

You hum, "I only like eight of them more than I like you."

He snorts, "Oh, well that makes all the difference."

You smack his shoulder playfully, "Get up."

With a groan, he uses the back cushions of the sofa to push himself off of you, "Can't believe I'm being kicked out of my own apartment. I've been here for, like, fifteen minutes, and I'm already being told to leave." He stands up, stretching out his back as he trudges back to the kitchen to pick up the discarded mask and gadgets he left on the counter. "I'm starting to think you're just dying to get rid of me."

You gasp, "Me?! Never!" You sit yourself up, back leaning against the arm. "I'm just looking out for you. You've already fallen behind schedule."

He chuckles as he straps his gear back into place, "Then why don't you dust off that suit of yours and help me get back on track?"

"Absolutely not. My vigilante days are over." You say with a scoff.

"Don't you miss it?" He asks, shoving his escrima sticks into the tight straps on his back.

"If by 'it', you mean having to haul your ass out of a mess every night because you can't help but bite off more than you can chew, then no. I don't."

"Hey! That's unfair!"

"Is it?"

Dick scoffs, "Yeah. We all know you're the worst at following orders."

You fling your legs over the side of the couch and push yourself up, "Yeah, I am. But you're impulsive."

He fits the domino mask on, and you can't help but feel slightly satisfied at how it sits on his face so perfectly. "Yeah, well, I'm doing fine on my own. Very much alive, actually."

You saunter over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso, looking up at him through your lashes, "Thanks to me. I kept you out of the shit for god knows how long."

"And I'm continuing to keep myself out of it." He taps your nose. "Learnt from the best." You smile softly at him, but then he follows up with, "I meant Batman, by the way." Before he can even gauge your reaction, he's already cracked himself up with his own joke, like he'd been planning it in his head the whole time. He probably – no, definitely had been.

You step back, folding your arms across your chest and shoving your tongue into your cheek to stop yourself from laughing along with it. "You're an asshole."

"I'm your asshole, though." Dick gives you his cheesiest grin as he struts over to the window, patting his body down to check he hasn't forgotten anything. You follow him, stand beside him as he slides the window open with ease and curse him internally because that window – the one he leaves open almost every night – is usually your greatest enemy. But of course, it plays ball for the golden boy. Typical.

With a rather dramatic sigh he climbs through, only partly though, sitting on the sill with one leg dangling freely above the city and the other still in your apartment, foot pressing against the hardwood floor. "I won't be too long. Promise." He tells you.

You snort, "That translates to 'I'll see you in the morning', in Dick Grayson terms."

Dick lifts his shoulder in a half shrug, a soft smile on his lips, "Maybe. But I'll be home for breakfast, for sure. What do you want? I'm feeling..." He pauses for a second, chewing on his bottom lip before he comes to a conclusion, "Pancakes."

"You're always feeling pancakes. They're like, the only thing you're good at making. Unless we want our whole apartment building to burn down because you decided to branch out for breakfast."

"Pancakes it is!" He announces.

"Cool."

He nods, "Yeah. Cool."

Then it falls quiet between the two of you. Dick rubs his chin, staring right at you – specifically a certain part of your face – as you chew down on that something and glance around the room, feigning cluelessness. He won't leave without a kiss goodbye; not once has he climbed through the window and disappeared into the night without planting his lips on yours. You'll give into him, because you always do, but you love to tease. Not to mention the fact he's only just come back, and although you're more than happy for him to go out and take care of whatever's going on in the streets, you're willing to delay Nightwing's return to Blüdhaven for a little while longer.

You're making a point to look anywhere but at him, and the longer the silence drags on, the more you begin to feel the giggles rising in your throat. You can't even look at him for more than a second, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tries to fight back hysterics because he knows what you're doing.

Eventually, you take it upon yourself to break the silence, covering your mouth with your hand and asking through stifled laughter, "Are you gonna leave?"

Dick breaks, bursting out into a fit of laughter. He leans his head back against the window frame, shoulders shaking. "I can't leave yet." You shoot him an amused look that says 'oh really?'. "You know what I want."

You let out a lighthearted groan which quickly descends into a giggle, "Do I have to?"

"Uh-huh. Got two weeks to make up for."

"And whose fault is that?"

He shrugs, "Mine, and I'm dead set on making up for lost time. Bring it here, Thorny." He leans over and grabs your hand, pulling you towards him.

"Don't fucking call me that." You try to say it with as much malice as you can muster, which is hard considering you can't seem to stop grinning at him.

"Wow. Someone's feeling prickly tonight. I can see why you called yourself Thorn." His hand rests on the small of your back, gently commanding you to stay put.

"Fuck you, Grayson. I'll push you out of the window."

His brows shoot up in amusement at your meaningless threat. "That'd be rude."

"Yeah?"

Dick nods slowly, "Yeah. Could kill me." That's a lie. Both of you know that even if you did mean it and you were planning to push him out, he'd find a way to counter. You live on the top floor of your building, but he's a trained acrobat and a quick thinker with enough gadgets on his person to ensure he'd be back at your window in two minutes, tops.

Still, you play along. "Maybe that's the goal."

"You love me too much to kill me."

"Oh, you think?"

He blows out his cheeks, "Wow. You're so mean to me."

You reach up and run your fingers through his soft hair, "Yet you keep coming back."

"Well, I do live here." He deadpans. You stare at him for a good ten seconds before you break out into another fit of giggles, punching his shoulder and breathing out a 'fuck you'. He raises his free hand, "I'm just saying. Wouldn't wanna go through the moving out process. Y'know, having to pack my stuff and hire a moving service—...."

"Get out!"

"Nuh-uh. Gimme a kiss first." Dick leans closer to you and puckers his lips, screwing his eyes shut. He gives you a moment, and when he doesn't feel you move he raises his hand and taps his index finger against his lips. "I won't leave until you kiss me."

With another groan, you lean in and plant your lips against his. You try to pull away quickly, short and sweet, but he keeps you close. He kisses you again, and again, and again. Until you're practically balancing on the heels of your feet, held up only by his strong hand on your back, and he's almost back inside of your apartment.

You let out a breathless laugh against his lips, your hands pushing against his shoulders, "Go, or I won't let you leave."

"Is that a promise?" He murmurs.

"Go."

With a sigh, he turns his body and lifts his other leg over the window, gripping on to the top pane to keep himself seated for the time being. He looks over his shoulder at you, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

You give him a smile, "Okay."

"I'm gonna make you the best pancakes you've ever eaten."

"I'm sure."

He rolls his eyes playfully, because how dare you doubt his pancake making skills. "See you in the morning, babe. Love you!" With that, he pushes himself off the window and free falls.

You've watched him do it countless times, but you can't help the way it takes your breath away every single time; panic sucker punches you right in the stomach and you can't help but yell out 'Richard John Grayson' as you throw yourself towards the window and lean the upper half of your body out into the cold city.

That wing-suit of his will be the death of you one day.

You look down at the dimly lit streets, looking for any sign of your boyfriend who's just allowed himself to drop from the top floor of the apartment building, but he's nowhere in sight. It's only when you hear his voice calling your name that you realise he's standing atop a lower roof across the street, a dumb grin on his lips.

"That was really funny, Dickie!" You yell out sarcastically, folding your arms across your chest.

"It's my party trick!" He shouts back, resting his hands on his hips. "You know what I always say: you'll never know if you can fly unless—...."

"You take the risk of falling! Whatever! Get out of here!"

You hear him laugh, despite the distance between you. He turns, ready to take off into the depths of the city, but not before yelling another, "I love you!"

With an eye roll, and a soft smile on your lips, you tell him, "I love you too! Be safe!" You're just about to retreat back into the warmth of your apartment, but you remember you still need to tell him something very important. "Close the window when you get back!"

"Yeah, yeah. I know!"

The next morning, you wake up to a sleep-deprived boyfriend cursing under his breath at a bowl of homemade pancake mix, and a very open window.

i love all of these, they are so cute😭❤️❤️🤌🏻🤌🏻

‘what’s trending?’ | the series masterlist

# tiktok trends featuring... the boyz !

11 different trends paired with each member, 1 for everyone!

incoming message from leona ?!?

happy leona’s 200 days with the boyz!!!!! at first i was gonna make this a normal reaction thing but then i realized it was becoming way too long to be called a reaction for each member so i decided to make it into a series, sorry if this wasn’t what you were expecting but i can write what i want :p

i decided which member should get which scenrio using a wheel picker so i apologise if i make them a little ooc !!!

profiles one. | profiles two.

disclaimer. some drabbles might be shorter than others :o

lee sangyeon | # reject holding hands with him — click here!

jacob bae | # dodging his kiss — click here!

kim younghoon | # pretending to break your back — click here!

lee hyunjae | # i can't see when i close my eyes — click here!

lee juyeon | # pretending to hide someone — click here!

kevin moon | # smile if you wanna break up — click here!

choi chanhee | # pretending to get your arm stuck in a bottle — click here!

ji changmin | # act like you broke his things — wip. . .

ju haknyeon | # calling him husband — wip. . .

kim sunwoo | # he said he doesn’t love me anymore — wip. . .

eric sohn | # pretending to game with another guy — wip. . .

fill in this google form to be in the series/permanent tag list!