#Mike Dodds imagine

[noellawrites]

I don’t think you’ve ever got this kind of ask? But what if (yandere!suv men) the darling successfully got an abortion and left them before they got home?

OOOH this is so interesting. especially because it implies somehow you managed to outsmart them enough to get an abortion AND escape.

warnings: abortion, guilt, forced intimacy and abuse

All four of the men (Mike Dodds, Nick Amaro, Sonny Carisi and Rafael Barba) are obviously not going to just let you go that easily. Alerts will be sent around the city and to every NYPD precinct, cameras will be monitored, no stone will be left unturned.

But I think there might be some different reactions to the abortion once the men find you and bring you home (because they will. don't doubt it.)

Sonny Carisi will be heartbroken. He's going to drag you to church with him at least three times a week, forcing you to participate in confession and beg God for his forgiveness for killing your innocent baby. He's going to force you to spend more time with his family so you feel even more guilty, too.

Nick Amaro and Rafael Barba will be so mad that they will likely get physical with you. How dare you run away from them and abort their child? Expect punishments, loss of privileges, being ignored, and they will also force themselves on you in an aggressive, abusive way.

Mike Dodds will probably be more sensitive to your pain, wanting to make things better for you so you don't try and run away again or get another abortion. He wants that perfect family, though, and he is going to get it no matter what.

[australiancarisi]

Mike Dodds ~ Family

"Can you please write a SVU x BB crossover where Mike Dodds finds out his new girlfriend is the youngest child of the Reagan family as they hadn’t met via work and neither wanted to bring up their connections and enjoyed the relationship being one that is just themselves and not because of their name etc. " Words: 1451

Anon thank you so much for requesting this, I don't really get requests anymore, I don't really write anymore but ugh this was just amazing to write and made me so happy so thank you :')

“Would you still be with me even if I was a worm?” Mike’s hand that had been slowly running up and down your spine stopped. You were both lying on his couch, him on his back, you lying on top of him on your stomach. 

“We were having such a nice time” You shot up quickly making Mike groan as you move your weight into his stomach 

“That’s a no!” 

“I never said no” Mike pointed out 

“You didn’t say yes either” 

“Sweetheart-“ 

“Say it” 

“y/n-“

“Say. It.” you huffed crossing your arms and pouting like a child. Mike sighed. 

“Yes I would still be with you even if you were a worm” 

“Thanks Mikey Moo back at you” you grinned and leaned forward to give him a kiss. 

“I don’t know where you think of these things” Mike laughed moving you off his lap so he could get up and go to the kitchen. 

“It’s the youngest sibling in me, you wouldn’t get it you’re the eldest child” you playfully rolled your eyes. You and Mike hadn’t been dating long, about 3 months. You’d met in central park, both of you had been on a run and almost like you were in the movies you ran into each other. 

Literally.

You a bruise on your wrist from where you landed. Your brothers kept making handcuffs jokes at Sunday dinner. 

“Riiiiiiight” Mike opened the fridge and pulled out a beer as your phone pinged on the coffee table. You groaned it was your brother Danny telling you about a case he’d just picked up, all hands on deck. 

“I have to go, got a case” you jumped up, quickly going to Mike for a kiss.

“Be safe” he pecked your lips “are you coming back here?” 

“I’ll see where I end up” you shrugged, kissing him one last time before scrambling to grab your stuff as your phone rang. “yes yes I’m on my way…” 

Mike laughed and shook his head as you headed out the door. Although the relationship was new he knew he was in this for the long haul. He never saw himself with another cop, not when his father was a chief. He always had to prove himself 10 times more than anyone else that the idea of also having a partner be in the NYPD was not on his radar. He’s managed to keep his family out of the relationship, come to think of it neither of you really spoke about your family, his was highly dysfunctional, Mike was just assuming yours was the same or you just weren’t that close. 

Whatever the reason, Mike quite liked that it was just you and him right now. The rest of the SVU squad knew he was in a relationship, there just hadn’t been a chance to introduce you to them yet. He was looking forward to it though. 

It was Mike’s turn to groan as his phone vibrated this time, a message from his dad reminding him of the gala night on the weekend that his presence had been demanded for. He hated these nights. He wished he could have had you be his plus 1 but that would mean meeting his father and Mike wasn’t ready to pop the bubble the two of you had been in. 

....

Mike quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket to send you a text while his dad was distracted by someone. You and Mike had been playing phone tag since you left his apartment earlier in the week. Your case had turned into a big one and you hadn’t had a moment to yourself since and Mike was drowning in paper work. He’s been at this gala for over an hour, shaking hands and being introduced to many people. People his father wanted him to make a good impression on to move up in the ranks. Mike slipped his phone back into his pocket as his father’s attention turned back to him and they continued the rounds around the room. 

“Alright Mike get ready for this one” William nudged him and steered him towards a table. “Commissioner Reagan, nice to see you again” 

“Dodds” the commissioner held his hand out and the two shook hands. “and it’s Sargent isn’t it?” 

“Yes sir Sargent Mike Dodds, nice to meet you Commissioner” Mike stuck his hand out to shake  his hand. 

“Please call me Frank” Frank smiled and shook his hand “I hear you are at SVU now with Captain Benson, good squad” 

“Great squad” Mike said “Definitely different to what I’m used to but learning a lot” there was noise from behind the commissioner who rolled his eyes. 

“Well Dodds you introduced me to your kid I guess I better introduce you to mine, they are being loud enough, you’d think as adults they would mature but apparently not” Frank moved slightly to show the table behind him. 

Mike’s eyes widened. 

“Chief and Sargent Dodds meet my children. Detective Danny Reagan, ADA Erin Reagan, Sargent Jamie Reagan and my youngest Detective Y/n Reagan” 

...

“Oh my god can you put your phone away for one night?” Erin rolled her eyes at you. You were sat at a table with your family at some gala for the NYPD. Being the commissioners kid meant you had to show up to all these events even though all you wanted to be was curled up on the couch with Mike. Sure Mike could of come but that would of meant outing yourself as the commissioners kid and that’s not your idea of a fun date. There was an asterisks next to your name. No matter how good of a cop you proved yourself to be there was always going to be someone who said you only got there because of your family. And not that you think Mike would be one of those people, you weren’t ready to have the family conversation just yet. 

“She talkin’ to her boyfriend” Danny smirked 

“Boyfriend since when?” Jamie questioned 

“Since none of your business” you shoved him “how did you find out?” 

“Overheard you talking to Baez about him” Danny shrugged “so when do we get to meet him?” 

“If I’m lucky, never” you huffed. Your siblings started to gang up on you, you hadn’t even noticed your father had started talking to someone else. 

“Well Dodds you introduced me to your kid I guess I better introduce you to mine, they are being loud enough, you’d think as adults they would mature but apparently not” your dad said making all of you be quiet. You felt your heart stop as you looked at Mike. “Chief and Sargent Dodds meet my children. Detective Danny Reagan, ADA Erin Reagan, Sargent Jamie Reagan and my youngest Detective Y/n Reagan” 

Wait.

Dodds. 

Chief. 

As in Chief Dodds. 

You mentally face palmed yourself as you made the connection. How had you not put two and two together? You stayed quite as everyone said hello, your dad and chief Dodds began talking about something else. You excused yourself to go get another drink. As you stood at the bar you felt a hand on your lower back. 

“So…commissioners kid….” Mike whispered “didn’t see that one coming” 

“neither did I, son of a police chief” there was a moment of silence “we aren’t very good detectives if we couldn’t put this together” 

“yeah maybe let’s not tell anyone, they might demote us to traffic stops on Staten Island” Mike

smirked making you laugh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it’s just a lot to throw at someone. It’s not easy to tell the person you are dating that your father is their boss and I really like you Mike and I love spending time with you and it’s just been so easy and no drama and my family is all drama let me bloody tell you and it’s been so refreshing to just get to be me, y/n. Not a Reagan, not the commissioners kid and-“ Mike cut your rambling off with a kiss 

“I get it” he whispered against your lips. “Son of a police chief. I get it” 

“You’re not mad?” 

“Of course not. How could I be mad? I didn’t tell you about my dad” Mike kissed you again. You heard Erin call out your name. You both turned to see your siblings and both your fathers and your grandfather looking at you. “I guess there’s no hiding my love for you now” 

“I…your…what” you looked back at him “what did you just say?” 

“I love you y/n” Mike smiled down at you “even if you are the commissioners kid” 

“I love you too Mike Dodds, son of a police chief” 

[detectivesvu]

Sharing Secrets

Mike Dodds x Fem! Reader Tags: Brief mentions of child abuse. Word Count: 3.6k "I just...hope I haven't completely messed things up."

The air of the SVU victim interview room was completely still.

It wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but it was definitely quiet and not much conversation to fill the air. After all your years at SVU, talking to victims and hearing their stories still stung just as much as your very first day on the squad.

Of course, as time went on and you had more experience under your belt, you were more confident and comfortable talking to victims. You knew that in some cases, you were the only person in their corner. You were the only person who understood what they were feeling and what they were going through. Work experience helped, but it didn’t put even a dent in the way it still made your stomach turn to hear such traumatic events day in and day out.

And certainly, adults were one thing…kids were entirely another.

Too often, SVU was handed cases of kids being assaulted and abused…traumatized and scarred for life. With the adults, you always managed to move on, but kids? Kids’ cases stuck with you forever. Hearing small, meek children tell you that they had been touched or beaten…almost always by someone they knew and trusted. It was impossible to get used to hearing and seeing that every day…it was inconceivable to believe that anyone could lay their hands on a child.

Today was no exception.

He hadn’t hardly said a word since he sat down. He was practically trembling with anxiety as he did everything he could to avoid looking at you and your detective partner sitting directly across from him. If he did sneak a glance, his eyes tended to go to Detective Dodds, who only returned a quick soft smile each time he locked eyes with the 5-year-old.

His eyes were trained on the numerous pieces of paper strewn in front of him, a variety of different colored crayons scattered there as well. He was doodling away with the different crayons, silently dreaming up and sketching multiple pictures as a way of entertaining himself…and distracting himself from the two of you attempting to speak with him.

You and Dodds had been trying to get through to him for nearly half an hour. Each question you asked only earned a meek response and an uncomfortable body movement.

He was scared to death no doubt. Confused as to why two police officers were asking him so many questions that he didn’t want to answer…and even more confused about the situation that landed him here in the first place.

“That’s a really nice picture,” Your voice — soft and full of warmth — spoke to the young boy sitting across from you. “Do you like to draw?”

He said nothing. His eyes — full of fear and yet still so full of innocence — only flickered to you for a moment as a physical show that he had indeed heard your question. His left eye was swollen and a grisly shade of black and blue…evidence of what he had endured that landed him at SVU. His head barely nodded up and down as he set the crayon in use down, his cheeks tinting pink under your gaze.

Mike studied the picture that the child was currently working on. It was no Picasso masterpiece by any means…but even Mike could put together what it was supposed to be.

“Are these your favorite foods?” Mike asked, noting that he could spot a variety of foods that were universally kid friendly.

The child gave another small nod. Eyes now focused on his hands fiddling in his lap. This boy had been through hell and back, so it was no surprise he wasn’t interested in chatting about what foods he liked with two adult strangers. If that boy knew anything for sure, it was that the adults that were supposed to love you could hurt you beyond comprehension…so trusting an adult he didn’t know was not an option unless they gave him a reason to.

It was odd though. The boy had been much more talkative when Sonny picked him up and brought him into the precinct. He hadn’t been a chatterbox by any means, but according to Sonny — the kid wasn’t so clammed up like he was now. Something was making him uneasy.

“Pizza, ice cream, sandwiches…all really good stuff. I like all of that too,” Mike said, trying to establish some kind of common ground with the kid. Mike pointed to one particular image on his picture, a rectangular shape with a symbol on it that he identified to be a certain type of fruit. “Is this a juice box?”

The boy nodded once more, shrinking down into his seat as Mike continued.

“If you want, we can get you a juice box. We have some around here.”

For the briefest moment, the boy perked up. His eyes glimmered just long enough for you and Mike to catch it and know that you were making some progress.

He cowered and shrank into himself again when he locked eyes with you, and that’s when it clicked for Mike.

“Detective,” Mike turned to you, a small, reassuring smile on his face. “Would you get my friend here an apple juice?”

Mike had a look on his face, a look that let you know he had something in mind. You and Mike — a dynamic duo as work partners — understood one another. Your thoughts often flowed together smoothly and with ease. In many ways, your bond went well outside of work. The two of you didn’t just blend together as partners…but as people. If Mike needed you to leave, then you trusted him.

“Sure thing,” You retreated from your chair. “I’ll be right back.”

Mike kept his eyes on the kid, who allowed his own eyes to follow you as you exited the room and disappeared behind the wall. He released a long breath once you were gone, unbeknownst to him that you would be watching from the other side once his promised juice box was retrieved. Mike let the silence simmer for a few minutes, not wanting to immediately start asking more questions.

It wasn’t until the boy snuck another glance at Mike that he decided to try and press further.

“So…let me ask you something. Does Detective [L/N] make you nervous?”

The boy’s wide brown eyes locked with Mike’s for only another moment as he nodded, fiddling with his small hands.

“Can you tell me why she makes you nervous? You didn’t seem to like her being here," Mike asked. "I'm your friend. You can tell me."

The boy was clearly wrestling with himself. Not wanting to give in to Mike’s question…but deep down knowing that he wasn’t here to do anything other than help him. The boy then spoke for the first time in half an hour. The tiniest bit of comfort filled his senses as he finally began to answer Mike’s questions.

“She’s pretty…” He gave the tiniest, shyest grin with a small voice.

Mike couldn’t help himself. His laugh was light and surprised, but genuine. This was the first time he had said anything, and he chose to say that.

You yourself gave a small laugh, cradling the beloved apple juice in your hand to be delivered once Mike made some decent headway in this conversation.

“He’s getting through to him.” Olivia, who was standing to your immediate right, said aloud. “Even if it’s at your expense.”

You shook your head and shrugged, completely unbothered.

“I don’t mind,” You answered. “Mike knows what he’s doing.”

Mike could tell the kid was warming up. He didn’t want to lose momentum now while he was on a roll.

“Is that why you didn’t want to talk with her in the room?”

The boy nodded and surprised Mike by posing a question of his own.

“Do you think she’s pretty too?”

Suddenly, the questioning at your expense was getting a bit personal. Mike shifted in his seat a bit -- he wasn't going to lie to this boy, but he also knew you were listening. Right now, this kid was his priority.

“Yeah, bud. I do.”

The boy brightened up, clearly interested in this ordeal. Mike didn't mind. If it distracted him from what he had been through, then he was more than willing to dish out his personal business.

“Are you boyfriend-girlfriend?” The boy straightened up, now having no trouble keeping eye contact with Mike.

“No, we’re not boyfriend-girlfriend.” Mike chuckled again at the phrasing of the youngster's question.

“Why not?” He tilted his head slightly with curiosity.

Mike's eyes widened at that question, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He wasn't expecting that question, and it caught him off guard. Mike was too far down the road of this conversation to turn back now. If he lost this kid's trust, they might never really know what was happening to him. He turned his attention back to the child, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Mike admitted, trying to maintain his composure. "We're partners...but not the kind that dates."

It seemed that suddenly the boy was very invested in your and Mike’s relationship because he continued to press on like he needed to know for his own personal reasons.

“But if you think she’s pretty, why don’t you date?” He asked. “You like her don’t you?”

Mike chuckled again, amused by the boy's curiosity and keen eye for detail. He leaned back in his chair, contemplating his answer for a moment before speaking.

"Well...you're right. I do like her," he admitted, a smile on his face. "But it's not always that simple. We work together every day...and sometimes," Mike said, hesitating for a moment, "Work can get in the way of things."

“Oh…” The boy said quietly, thinking for only a moment before continuing. “So you don’t like her more than a friend?”

Mike pondered on the question. It really was a difficult one to answer. Because the feelings he had for you weren't just that of friendship. They were stronger, deeper, but he didn't know how to articulate it to a 5-year-old child. He leaned closer to the boy, his voice serious but still friendly.

"I do like her more than just a friend. A lot more," He confessed, his smile still on his face. "But it's a bit tricky when we work together. Does that make sense?"

The boy picked up on Mike’s quiet tone, and he matched his whisper when he spoke next.

“Yeah but…why don’t you tell her you like her?”

Mike was caught off guard again by the boy's insightful question. He shifted in his chair, feeling a pang of guilt and regret in his chest. The simple truth was, he had thought about expressing his feelings to you more times than he could count. But there was always a reason not to.

He sighed, his voice low and conflicted.

"It's not that easy. If I tell her how I feel...it could mess up our friendship."

Mike realized he was probably oversharing with him. In no way was his feelings for you the child's responsibility...but the boy didn't seem burdened in the slightest -- this was the most interested he had been in talking all day. A slight smile appeared on the boy’s face as he leaned over the table, whispering even quieter to Mike.

“I think she likes you too.” He grinned.

Mike kept his expression unchanged, but his heartbeat was beginning to quicken in his chest. He knew there was no turning back from this now. He leaned in toward the boy, mirroring his whispering tone.

"What makes you think that?" He asked in a hushed voice.

The boy shrugged, but his eyes were completely lit up at this conversation.

“I don’t know…” He giggled. “I can just tell.”

Mike knew this conversation was getting way off track. The purpose of this interview was to get this boy to tell him about what he had endured at his daycare center, and how he ended up bruised and beaten — but at this point, Mike figured it was valuable to finish it out.

“You’re a smart kid,” He said. “You can tell me. How can you tell?"

Mike was impressed at how observant and perceptive this kid was. At such a young age, he had an astute sense of things that many adults didn’t even pick up on in their own relationships. The boy scrunched his eyebrows, thinking hard. Mike chuckled at the sight and waited patiently for his answer.

"Well," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "She smiles at you a lot. And she listens when you talk. Like...she really listens."

Mike was speechless. He could tell this kid was observant, but this was beyond impressive. It seemed that this five-year-old was beyond smarter than he was.

“But I won’t tell her if you don’t want her to know you like her,” The boy said. “I promise."

Mike knew that it wasn't a secret anymore, given that you were probably watching from the other side and had heard this entire conversation. Still, Mike admired the kid's loyalty. He leaned forward, a conspiratorial smile on his face.

“Thanks, kid. Let’s keep it just between us for now, okay?”

Mike knew you had to have been watching and listening this entire time. His stomach was in knots knowing that you had just heard him spill his liking for you to a child. He hoped and hoped that this kid was right, and that your friendship and partnership wasn’t over.

As if on cue, the door to the room opened — revealing you with two small boxes of the promised apple juice. The boy shrank into his seat slightly when you entered, but shared a knowing glance with Mike.

Mike's eyes darted from the boy back to you, trying to keep a casual demeanor despite the wave of nerves that washed over him. He could sense the boy's slightly timid behavior as you entered the room, and the knowing glance the boy shared with him was both reassuring and foreboding. He tried his best to act natural, standing up to take the juice box from you and set it on the table in front of the boy.

"Perfect timing, thanks." Mike said, his voice betraying a hint of tension underneath.

She knew Mike was going to try and continue the conversation with the boy now — and get the full story of the abuse he had endured. She wouldn’t be sticking around - just long enough to give him his juice.

“I brought you a second one…just in case you were extra thirsty.” she smiled at the boy, her heart pounding at the new knowledge of Mike liking her so much more than she ever realized. “If you want anything else, let Mike know, okay?”

The boy took one of the juice boxes, unwrapped the straw and punched it into the hole.

“Okay,” He gave her a shy smile. “Thanks.”

The thought of you potentially knowing Mike's feelings for you — the fact that he may have given away his secret to you via a 5-year-old — was almost overwhelming. But he pushed it aside, needing to focus on the task at hand.

As you excused yourself to leave the room, he shot you a quick nod, a silent thank you for the juice and giving him and the kid some privacy.

“Okay, buddy…” Mike said calmly, trying to shift gears. “Can you tell me about your daycare teacher?”

For the next hour or so, Mike and the boy talked back and forth. The boy told Mike all the details of how his daycare teacher abused him and other kids in his class — and gave SVU enough reason to question and potentially arrest her.

Through the boy's detailed and sometimes-heartbreaking account of the abuse he and others had suffered, Mike listened intently, his heart breaking a bit more with every new piece of information. He jotted down notes as the boy spoke, making sure to capture as much information as possible for the investigation. The more Mike learned about the daycare teacher's treatment of the children, the more determined he was to bring her to justice.

When the boy was out of things to say and SVU had enough information, Mike stood from the table and held his hand out to the boy.

“You’ve been very brave and helpful to us,” He said, smiling once more when the boy walked around the table and took his hand. “Thank you for helping us.”

The boy nodded, walking out of the room hand-in-hand with Mike — entering Olivia’s office where you, Olivia, and Carisi were waiting. Olivia wore an expression of curiosity, Carisi looked as if he was about to explode to go tell the entire squad room what just happened, and you were looking at Mike...purely in awe as he stood in front of you.

Mike squatted to meet the boy’s height, gesturing toward Carisi with a grin.

“I need to get back to work now. Detective Carisi is going to take you now, okay?”

The boy nodded again, leaning in to whisper one more thing to Mike before going with Carisi.

“I won’t forget our secret.” He said, and Mike patted his shoulder affectionately.

Carisi took the boy with him, leaving Mike alone with her and Olivia. As Carisi led the boy out of the office -- no doubt going to tell Fin and Rollins about this -- Mike stood up and stood stoically, now facing you and Olivia, his nerves mounting. He avoided your gaze, focusing instead on straightening out the notes he had taken during the interview. The silence in the room was deafening, and Mike's heart was hammering in his chest.

"I'm going to call Barba," Olivia said, which was Olivia's way of saying she was leaving the room. “I'll send Fin and Rollins down to that daycare center."

Mike nodded in acknowledgement as Olivia relayed the news about the teacher, his heart racing even faster at the impending prospect of being alone with you. He swallowed hard, bracing himself for the conversation that was to come. Olivia swiftly left the room, closing the door behind her.

Mike stood frozen for a moment, mustering up the courage to finally look over at you. He took a deep breath, his gaze meeting yours. It wasn't like Mike to be so nervous. Mike was always confident...super focused on work. But right now, he was terrified that your partnership and friendship was ruined.

He could tell you weren’t angry with him or anything of that nature. If anything you looked…relieved.

“So…” You couldn’t help but flash a small grin, his chest fluttering at the sight. “You think I’m pretty?”

Mike let out a nervous laugh, a mix of relief and anxiety coursing through him. Seeing your small grin made his heart skip a beat. He couldn't deny it now - he was about to see the outcome of his confession.

"Guilty as charged," he admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "That kid wasn't wrong."

He paused for a moment, the weight of his feelings for you heavy in his chest.

"I just...hope I haven't completely messed things up."

“Come on, Mike…” You took a step closer. “You know it would take way more than that to mess things up between us.”

Relief washed over him as you took a step closer. The distance between you guys was shrinking, and he could feel the tension in the room growing. He studied your face, searching your eyes for any hint of rejection.

"I was worried that you'd think this completely changed everything." He said, his voice quiet but firm.

"Well…it certainly does change things…in a good way." You smiled.

Mike's head was spinning. This was certainly not how he expected his day to go...and for the first time ever, he was distracted from the current case at hand.

He took a cautious step forward, closing the distance between you guys even further. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of doubt. He saw nothing but genuine hope.

"The kid was right after all," You said. "But this is a conversation we can have when we get this case figured out. We need to get him taken care of."

He gave a slow nod, his gaze locked on yours. As much as he wanted to blurt out everything he was feeling, he knew you were right — there was work to be done first.

"You're right," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We need to focus on the case. But when this is all over…"

"When this is all over..." You finished his sentence for him. "We will see where we go from here."

The promise of "what's to come" overwhelmed him like no other. It had been so long since he had something other than work to focus on. He took another step forward, the urge to be closer to you nearly overwhelming him. But he stopped himself, knowing that until the case was closed, he couldn't act on any impulses.

"Right," He agreed. "How about dinner at my place?"

Your smile grew, and a slight heat rushed your cheeks.

"It's a date."

The matter was put to rest for now. They had work to do and a case to solve. But neither of you could deny that it sat in the back of your minds for the rest of the day. The day had taken an unexpected turn after all, and a most welcome one at that.

Mike was patient, and he knew with a little more time you would be able to see where this would lead.

Although, you both already had a pretty good idea of what that would be.

[bullet-prooflove]

Mike Dodds Masterlist

Mike Dodds x Reader:

Mental Health Check - Mike checks in on you.

His Brother’s Keeper - You have an altercation with Mike’s brother.

Mike Loves… (NSFW) - Mike loves getting his hands on you

Sunday Morning With Mike Dodds - Sunday mornings with Mike.

Living With Mike Dodds - What it’s like to live with Mike.

Casual (NSFW) - Mike and you decide to keep it casual.

Fatherhood - William watches over Mike in the aftermath of the shooting.

If Today Was Your Last Day (NSFW) - Mike and you spend his last day together.

Spontaneous (NSFW) - Mike gives you a spontaneous wake up call.

Giving (NSFW) - Mike Dodds is a giver.

Unspoken - In the aftermath of the Munson shooting, Mike struggles to recover both physically and mentally.

Blood Bane - Werewolf AU - Mike’s wolf pushes him too far.

Spark - Mike & you discuss the importance of spark in a relationship.

Squad Finding Out You’re Dating Mike Dodds

Mike Dodds Dating a Grad Student

Sleepless In New York - You & Mike fall into old habits.

‘Are These Good Tears?’ - Mike returns from the dead.

Don’t Touch Me - Mike suffers at the hands of his captors.

5 Sentences Game:

Laughing with my feet in your lap

Tangled up with you all night

"You can't just make decisions like this without asking me!"

Mike’s NSFW Dirty Alphabet:

The Whole Alphabet

Quiet

Sleeping with the Boss Series - Can be read as stand alone or as part of a series

Part One: Sleeping with the Boss - You leave Mike in bed.

Part Two: The Morning After - You & Mike navigate the morning after.

Ex!Mike Series - Can be read as stand alone or part of a series

Part One: See You Again - Mike starts working in SVU

Part Two: Expectations - Mike knows what people think of him.

Part Three: Coffee Break - You & Mike talk.

Part Four: Liar - You tell Mike the truth about why you left him.

UC!Mike Series - Can be read as stand alone or as part of a series

Part One: Left Behind - Mike returns from his UC assigment.

Part Two: Reflection - Mike reflects on the past.

Part Three: Blue - Your life gets alot more complicated.

Part Four: Out In The Cold - Mike is left out in the cold when you are forced to reveal your pregnancy.

Part Five: Best Laid Plans - Mike and you make an agreement.

[thekatbridgerton]

Dodds could’ve been Munches long lost son. They look more alike than Chief Dodds and Mikie 😂

[rqgnarok]

more than just a short time — jamie whelan

fandom: law & order organized crime

wc: 2,579 

warnings: SPOILERS for the season finale of law & order organized crime, canonical character death, canon mention of hospitals and violence. very self deprecating talk from a disabled character. ANGST. ANGST, ANGST, ANGST. female!reader

summary: Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose?

author’s note at the end.

Jamie doesn’t wanna see her.

She’s on her way up, Bobby tells him gently. Jamie wishes the surge of relief that courses through him wasn’t mixed up with the abhorrent need to send her away, be as rude as possible to have her leave the room before she comes to terms with what he’s become.

He doesn’t. Jamie nods at Reyes and licks his lips. He feels his eyes burn when the door opens to (Y/N) walking in, clutching the strap of her purse like it’s a lifeline, eyes wide and terrified and determined all at once. Bobby cups her elbow in silent support as he leaves the room, and Jamie swallows the mean words that try to climb up his throat at the sight of someone else doing what he can’t; comfort her, touch her, be the steadiness she needs in a moment of chaos.

Neither of them speaks as they’re left alone, a bubble of something-not-quite-peace enveloping them and making the outside world a mere blur at the other side of the doors. It’s only them and the ticking clock, the smell of alcohol and disinfectant, and the lack of color and life one expects from this specific wing at Bellevue. 

They’d met in a bar around four years ago. Jamie had just made detective and some of his buddies at the four-nine were adamant about at least buying him some drinks in celebration. Just after finishing his first beer, another one had been delivered to the table, the waiter pointing to where (Y/N) was sitting at the bar, smile sheepish and face flushed at being caught. 

She’d heard them celebrating and figured there was no harm in inviting the next round. Jamie leaned into her space with a charming grin and said something stupid about being harmed by meeting someone so beautiful and not asking for their name. To this day (Y/N) calls it the worst pickup line she’s ever heard, but it got him a laugh and a date that very same weekend. 

It’s been good. It’s been great – the last time Jamie was so infatuated by someone he’d been thirteen and crushing after the next-door neighbor. He fell so hard for (Y/N) and simply kept falling as they moved in together before their second anniversary and started looking for rings a couple of months before he transferred to Organized Crime.

The development of their relationship has been both a whirlwind and the most obvious thing Jamie’s ever lived through. Of course he was supposed to meet her. Of course he fell in love with her from the very first night. He hasn’t been able to imagine his life without her since their first date. 

Jamie doesn’t want her here. Jamie needs her by his side. These are two things that have to coexist now, his new reality far from the idea he had for the rest of his life.

He doesn’t tell her to go.

“Hi, sweetheart,” (Y/N) talks first, breaking the silence and the distance between them all at once as if snapping out of a spell. She drops her things in the chair left behind by Bobby and is by his bed in an instant, hands hovering all over him like she’s unsure of what parts of him she can touch without hurting him. 

Jamie wills for his fingers to twitch, for his hand to wake the fuck up and reach for her, help her cross those last few inches she isn’t daring to do on her own. 

He remains limp against the bed. (Y/N) finally touches him, her fingers against his cheek. It’s enough for Jamie to shudder with a cry, turning his head so he can soak in the touch. She’s warm and steady against his skin and Jamie mourns his situation for the hundredth time in the last hour.

“Jamie,” she says, murmured and weepy. Jamie’s eyes close in agony but it feels too much like being dead already, so he opens them again. The sight that greets him is devastating: his almost-fiánce-never-to-be-wife, asking him for something he can’t give her. The lifetime together he’s been waiting to promise in his proposal has gone up in smoke in the blink of an eye.

It was the right thing to do. Jamie knew– not even the blinding pain that shocked through his nerves had been enough of a distraction to the urgency in Stabler’s voice– that the second Kyle died, the chance to put down Shadowerk would go with him. 

There really was nothing he could’ve done. The bullet had reached his spine the moment it entered his body. He was dead the second he walked into that godforsaken camp.

But (Y/N) hadn’t known that when she kissed him goodbye that morning. She’d stood on her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his neck and joined their mouths together, tasting of toothpaste and languidly using her tongue to make him late for work.

“Hi,” he says, voice dry, trying not to sound as miserable as he is and failing. 

He’d already canceled a vacation on her earlier that week. A pre-honeymoon, he’d started calling it in his mind, maybe finally the right time to propose. He worries for a ridiculous moment if (Y/N)’s gonna be able to get a refund out of that, fretting terribly for what’ll happen to her after he’s gone.

He knows she can take care of herself but she’s not supposed to have to. Not while he’s alive and breathing.

Jamie’s overcome with how badly he wishes he’d called in sick. That he let (Y/N) drag him back to bed like she almost did and throw caution to the wind, burrow himself in her arms and her laugh, and leave the curtains drawn shut, embracing the safety of the darkness. He was so afraid of letting Bell and Stabler down, of having Reyes go out there without someone that cared for him watching his back, and where did that get him?

Without his body. Without a future with the love of his life.

The love of his life who can never find out what he asked of Bobby. Even if she loves him enough to do it for him– Jamie loves her too much to even ask. He won’t do that. He’s already planning on making her a widow, having her do it is just cruel. He made a promise a long time ago that he wouldn’t let the job make him someone he didn’t recognize and he’s not about to start bailing on it now.

Can someone be a widow if their partner only ever planned to propose? Jamie almost suggests they get a priest in here and use Bobby as a witness, but (Y/N) deserves better than that. And she’ll find it someday, Jamie’s sure of it, with an accountant or a banker or someone with a boring job who doesn’t leave the house to get shot at and get paid too little for it. 

“My day sucked,” he jokes weakly despite the inner monologue that’s rushing through his brain, trying to get her to smile and his voice cracking with emotion in the process. (Y/N) struggles with it but she manages an upward tilt of the lips, eyes wet. 

His pretty girl, so fucking resilient.

“I bet,” she tells him. She doesn’t stop touching him, which Jamie appreciates as much as he does the effort at light conversation. “Office coffee was that bad, huh.” 

Jamie’s laugh turns into a sob so quickly that he reasons it wasn’t really ever a laugh. His fragile good humor is gone in an instant, lip wobbling and features scrunching in agonized despair.

“I’m sorry,” he cries earnestly and without restraint for the first time since his mom died, probably. He shuts his eyes but it does nothing to stop the flow once it's started and (Y/N) can’t wipe all his tears fast enough. “We should’ve gone on vacation, I shouldn’t have gone to work at all, I’m so sorry–”

“Hey,” she cuts him off, equally as devastated. “Honey, it’s alright, it’s okay. You were doing the right thing, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.”

He keeps apologizing anyway, fervently. Jamie isn’t strong enough to stop when (Y/N) starts to cry, too. She just holds him as best she can while they cry together. “You don’t deserve this, you don’t need less than half a–”

“You’re alive,” (Y/N) insists fiercely through tears. Jamie doesn’t tell her how this can’t be much of a life. “You came home to me, baby. That’s all that matters to me, you understand?”

Jamie hums an affirmative and keeps crying, and (Y/N) keeps soothing her fingers over his cheeks, his mouth, his temple, his hair. Jamie’s tremendously grateful for her, even if the need to make himself small and let (Y/N) hold him will never be satisfied again. 

“You’re not half of anything,” she continues to reassure him without room for discussion. “You’re my everything. My whole entire life, Jamie–”

“I kept thinking of you,” he weeps, his breaths coming fast and hurried without the usual feeling of his abdomen pulling with the force of his grief. “All the time I’m out there, all I do is think of you, and I thought this time, I– I– I–”

She says his name helplessly, pressing a fervent kiss to his temple while some of her tears fall into Jamie’s hair, her breath stuttering. (Y/N) wraps herself around him as best she can without disturbing his injuries and the machines that are keeping him alive, leaving her in a most awkward position she doesn’t complain about once. Jamie’s love for her is too strong to be contained inside his body.  

“I love you,” he tells her after enough time has passed that Jamie’s almost certain he won’t break into another sob. His voice quivers but that’s about it, and he thinks he’s allowed. (Y/N)’s fingers tremble against his temple. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she answers without hesitation, her voice a little shaky, too. She scratches at his hair and Jamie’s shiver is cut down to his neck. “I love you, baby, and we’re gonna be alright. We’re gonna be okay.”

“I don’t think we’ll make it to Alaska,” he tries not to scoff in disappointment because he knows (Y/N) won’t like it, and she proves him right when she purses her lips like she does when trying to convince herself not to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t be stupid,” she says, but it’s so, so soft it sounds like a term of endearment. Idiot, like honey, sweetheart, baby . “I don’t care about that. We can get shitfaced and take pictures with your thumb on the lens at home, you know.”

“Hey,” he says, trying and failing not to think about wedding rings at the bottom of champagne glasses or hidden in chocolate mousse cakes. He’s always made fun of people who think proposing with a choking hazard is a good idea but Jamie now aches for that stupidity, that normalcy that won’t ever be for him. He refuses to propose in a hospital room when he can’t even put a ring on her hand himself. “We probably won’t get a refund out of that.”

“That’s okay,” (Y/N) soothes. Nothing is, but Jamie lets her try. Maybe she’ll have better luck at pretending than he did. “I don’t mind.” 

They fall into silence and he almost goes to sleep under her hands, pacified to unconsciousness half due to exhaustion and half due to her presence: the calm in the middle of the storm. Jamie isn’t mad anymore, can’t be when she’s got him wrapped around her finger.

“I love you,” he can’t tell her enough, sleepy and quiet. The rush of air she lets out is the only indication that (Y/N) heard him. 

Breathing’s getting harder, already a chore, and now the thought of the device running out of batteries or accidentally disconnecting from where it's keeping him alive makes him anxious. (Y/N)’s worried, he can tell even if she almost never voices it because she refuses to make him feel guilty about doing the job he loves. Jamie wishes she’d tell him off, scream and cry at him and not bottle it all up. It’ll only be worse when he–

He says, "Want every day with you," with sharp breaths between each word because he's too exhausted to say I want to spend the rest of my life with you. There's a ring in my locker at the station that I've been waiting for the right moment to give to you. He doesn't say, every moment is right when we're together and I'm sorry I'm only realizing that when I’m unable to breathe on my own.

(Y/N) smiles, shaky and watery, and the most gorgeous sight Jamie’s seen in his life. She knows, and Jamie knows she does. The knot that had built up the whole time he'd struggled to stay awake, waiting for her in this hospital bed, loosens.

It’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna be alright, even if she’ll miss him. She’ll grieve and move on knowing, without a doubt, that Jamie loved her like he’s never loved anyone before. It’s enough for him. He can only hope it’s enough for her, too. 

“Honey,” she rouses him gently from an accidental slumber hours later, the sun that gave little light to the room now gone behind the horizon, (Y/N)’s fingers still caressing his face. She looks exhausted and worried and the most beautiful Jamie’s ever seen her. Her smile is brittle and shaky. “Your dad’s here. I didn’t want to wake you up, but–”

“‘s okay,” he tells her. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

“Sure,” she says softly, hesitation clouding her features only for a second before she’s leaning in for a kiss, firm and lingering. Jamie exhales into it, something in his chest unfurling at the touch. He hadn’t realized they hadn’t kissed yet. “I’ll bring him in.”

“Wait,” he says, managing a boyish grin with lidded eyes. “Do that again.”

(Y/N)’s smile is bright, and Jamie’s glad to taste it when she goes in for another kiss on his mouth and then moves on to his cheek, his nose, his chin, his forehead. “Insatiable.”

“You love it.”

“God help me, I do,” she pats his chest carefully. “Let me go get your dad before he wonders what we’re doing in here.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, and once last time because he can’t help himself. “I love you.”

(Y/N) turns from where she already had one foot out the door, expression tender. “I love you back. See you in a minute.”

Later, after crying in the safety of his dad’s presence like a little boy and saying his goodbyes, Jamie closes his eyes as his breaths begin to recede. The shrill sound of his heart monitor, the panic that takes over the room when he stops breathing, he’s aware of none of it. 

Behind his lids isn’t death, but the Northern Lights and (Y/N) underneath them, showered in colors and smiling at him like she did that first night in a bar, young and unknowing. She offers him her hand and Jamie takes it. Nothing hurts.

 ________

this fic snuck up on me ngl but the season finale fucking wrecked me. i’m still thinking about writing a fix it.

short (considering my standards lol) and somewhat sweet? hope you enjoyed and if u want tell me what u think!

<3 

masterlist / ao3 / buy me a coffee

[objection-argumentative]

are you taking requests?

Hey!

Yes I am but I will be going at my own speed with them

Feel free to leave me any requests

[mariacallous]

Will the United States, the world’s oldest continuous democracy, make it to its 250th anniversary in 2026? This is not an unreasonable question because whoever occupies the White House that year will possibly be the determining factor in answering it. If that person is Donald Trump, we could be looking at game over—at least when it comes to the Constitution and what remains of the international system. But if it’s Joe Biden—or almost anyone else—it is entirely possible that the United States will celebrate its semiquincentennial as a stronger democracy, with more resilient institutions, than before. And presumably its allies abroad will collectively, finally, relax a little.

Believe it or not, there is a positive side to the unprecedented spectacle of a former U.S. president being indicted for criminal conspiracy to overturn an election. As tens of millions of his supporters rally to Trump’s side, and with the world watching in appalled amazement, the United States is about to go through a stress test reminiscent of what banks put themselves through (by order of the government, of course, under the Dodd-Frank Act): Can they survive the worst crisis the financial system could throw at them?

Bank stress tests, of course, are merely mathematical exercises. They’re like crashing in a flight simulator, where one can step out afterward and fix whatever went wrong. This is real-time history happening. If Trump succeeds in his campaign to defy the Justice Department (which, if he becomes president, he intends to dismantle a substantial portion of, along with the FBI), escape conviction, and win reelection by painting the several indictments against him as political weaponization comparable to Nazi Germany, then there may be no stepping out of this crash site. Still, stress tests almost invariably make institutions more crisis-proof: Recall that the stress-tested banks did survive the Silicon Valley Bank crisis thanks to shored-up capital resulting from previous exercises.

And it’s difficult to imagine that anything more testing could be thrown at the 247-year-old American experiment than this: In an atmosphere in which a substantial portion of the country no longer believes in facts coming from the federal government, and with a former leader who openly threatens to tear down the Constitution crushing his 2024 opposition in the latest polls, just about everything is at stake. The most fundamental pillars of U.S. democracy that go back to the Founding Fathers—starting with the peaceful transfer of power—are now up against demagogic and populist forces more threatening than anything the nation has seen. And still more indictments are to come, especially related to Trump’s alleged tampering of election results in Georgia—making the test of the U.S. system one that is occurring simultaneously on the federal, state, and local level. Americans today are truly living out that ancient Chinese curse: “May you live in interesting times.” (And no doubt China’s leaders are watching these events—and the possible dissolution of its rival nation—with bemused anticipation.)

But what if—to invoke another famous aphorism, Friedrich Nietzsche’s most over-quoted one—what doesn’t kill the United States makes it stronger? Already there are some fixes underway. The huge demographic of angry Americans who embrace Trump do so largely because they mistrust the federal government. And the government is finally responding—Biden with his massive economic program favoring the suffering middle class and Congress with new laws ensuring fair and credible elections. In December 2022, Congress saw fit to clarify the wording of the Electoral Count Act—reaffirming that the vice president’s role in the counting of Electoral College votes in Congress is purely ceremonial and not something the vice president can block, as Trump wanted Mike Pence to do. At the same time, Congress made it far more difficult for anyone to oust a slate of electors—as Trump repeatedly tried to do, according to the indictment. The testimony of numerous senior Republicans, including some of Trump’s most senior aides, is being used against him in the latest indictment by special counsel Jack Smith.

Historically, this is hardly the first time the American experiment has faced an existential test—and arguably the republic came out of earlier crises stronger by shoring up its institutional pillars. Think of Shays’ Rebellion and the Whiskey Rebellion in the early years of the republic. The first uprising, in 1786-87, led by a disaffected Revolutionary War officer named Daniel Shays, quickened the realization that the Articles of Confederation wouldn’t do the trick, gaining more support for a stronger central government at the 1787 Constitutional Convention. The crushing of the second rebellion, over liquor taxes in 1791-94 also strengthened the federal government by authorizing the use of a militia force—read the National Guard today—to suppress violence domestically and legitimizing federal taxes.

In the current period, many pundits have wondered whether the United States is so profoundly divided that another civil war could occur, but history is instructive here as well. Most people believe the Civil War ended in 1865, but in fact it raged on politically for at least another 10 years, threatening the foundations of government in ways not unlike today. The Ku Klux Klan and other violent insurrectionists in the South opposed the outcome—and constitutional fixes such as the 13th and 14th amendments—to the point where, in Hamburg, South Carolina, in 1876, a ragtag army of Southerners led by a former Confederate general massacred Black people who insisted on exercising their right to vote. As a result of the federal government’s crisis of credibility, the 1876 election between Rutherford Hayes and Samuel Tilden was a deadlock, with Tilden winning the popular vote, until a compromise was negotiated that removed federal troops from the South and handed Hayes the presidency. Nearly a century of Jim Crow followed, but the nation survived and later fought and won two world wars—and a major cold one—largely unified and undeniably stronger, emerging as the world’s lone superpower.

It is especially noteworthy that the latest electoral reforms passed by Congress in response to the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the U.S. Capitol were an update of the 1887 Electoral Count Act, which was passed to prevent a future constitutional crisis like that of 1876. So, at least the wording is getting better. According to Reuters, one of the new federal charges against Trump—conspiring to deprive citizens of constitutional or legal rights—is also based on a post-Civil War Reconstruction law in 1870. If he’s convicted, that will be a useful precedent for the future as well.

Strikingly, the crisis now facing the United States is pretty close to the perfect storm that the Founders feared when they designed the U.S. constitutional system. As Alexander Hamilton wrote in Federalist Paper No. 1:

Among the most formidable of the obstacles which the new Constitution will have to encounter may readily be distinguished the obvious interest of a certain class of men in every State to resist all changes which may hazard a diminution of the power, emolument, and consequence of the offices they hold under the State establishments; and the perverted ambition of another class of men, who will either hope to aggrandize themselves by the confusions of their country, or will flatter themselves with fairer prospects of elevation from the subdivision of the empire into several partial confederacies than from its union under one government.

Once you dispense with the 18th-century flourishes, you pretty much end up here with Trump: a man of “perverted ambition” who hopes to aggrandize himself by the “confusions” of his country and its division into several “partial confederacies.” In a later paper, Hamilton wrote of the danger that the states would become “dismembered and alienated from each other”—more or less what we have now, with the two political parties divided starkly into red and blue states. And in the famous Federalist Paper No. 10, James Madison also anticipated the factionalism that later became the party system and set the stage for today’s political divide. His Federalist co-author John Jay, meanwhile, warned of the dangers of foreign interference in subverting U.S. democracy. This did not include Russian disinformation, naturally, but rather a far more existential threat involving choosing the wrong great power to side with abroad—a problem that bedeviled the first U.S. presidents, George Washington and John Adams, as they dealt with warring France and England. Occasionally, there was overreach—most notably the Alien and Sedition Acts—but the Constitution survived handily. And arguably grew more resilient.

So, let’s not get too gloomy about the current state of affairs. As I’ve written myself, Trump has unquestionably been a major change agent in a country whose political system failed its middle class. But, honestly, how many pathological narcissists like him do we really think are going to come along and openly put personal aggrandizement ahead of the Constitution? Even Richard Nixon, a president of dubious moral character, didn’t do that. And what of the millions of Trumpist partisans? Recall the Tea Party. Leaderless, it faded away (or was absorbed by the Trump movement). Once Trump passes from the scene (by whatever means, legal or otherwise), his minions are likely to disperse as well, their anger simmering once again over the kitchen table and in the living room.

Moreover, it’s not as if anyone else in the world is looking much better. On the other side of the globe, we are watching autocrats fail today in much the way they have always failed. Vladimir Putin, suffering under some sort of neo-imperialist delusion that he is still living in the 19th century, has in a little over a year since his Ukraine invasion all but destroyed Russia’s power and prestige in the 21st century. Xi Jinping, consolidating his status as the next Mao Zedong—an absolute dictator—has thrown out so many of the lessons of marketization left to him by Mao’s reformist successor, Deng Xiaoping, that Xi’s “great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation” is in danger of achieving the opposite.

All of which reminds us of what Abraham Lincoln once said (presciently, of course) when he declared in an 1838 speech that no military power could really threaten the United States—that a foreign nation “could not by force, take a drink from the Ohio, or make a track on the Blue Ridge, in a trial of a thousand years.” No, Lincoln said, “if destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher.”

The United States’ lot may be up for grabs again, but it’s still entirely up to Americans to decide whether they will be authors of its self-destruction or survival. Perhaps, even, coming out on the other side stronger than before.

[svuwritings]

#46 With Mike if you're still taking request

hehehe this is back from like 3 years ago when my requests were still open and i didn’t have a backlog :-)

Masterlist | Prompts 

46. “Hit me.” | Mike Dodds

Warnings: she/her pronouns used for reader, physical violence, sexual undertones

The shock was visible on his face at your request. “Excuse me?” He questioned, sure he hadn’t heard you right.

You rolled your eyes impatiently, egging him on. “Come on, Mike,” you whispered feverishly. “Hit me.”

“Are you out of your mind?” He whispered back, eyes wide in shock. “There’s no way I’m hitting you.”

“It’s part of our UC,” you reasoned. “They need to think we’re kinky or else we’re in serious trouble.”

“Can’t I just fake it?” He begged.

You whisper-yelled his name back, annoyance settling on your face.

“She’s right, Mike,” Liv chimed in over the radio. “Keep up appearances.”

Mike huffed in a breath, shifted awkwardly, and let go without giving himself a chance to second guess. 

All eyes turned to you the second his hand made contact with your skin, the sound reverberating across the room. You played the part, gasping when his hand made contact with your face, jaw dropping slightly. You stared blankly for a second, before grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling his head towards you, eyes shutting as your lips met.

He faltered slightly, but quickly got back into character, grabbing your face as he deepened the kiss. 

You would be lying if you said it didn’t spark something in you, seeing Mike that powerful, feeling his hand on your face, the sting melted away as his greedy lips and tongue made quick work of you. You moaned into the kiss, and all the tension in the room seemed to ease, everyone else more comfortable that the newcomers were the real-deal. 

When you broke from the kiss, less people were watching; of course, there were some eager voyeurs, including your perp, but the rest of the kink community was paired up, making out with each other and getting further. 

You had finally broken the ice, and hopefully you could get something out of them. If only you could focus on the case and not the thought of Mike slapping you again. Maybe on a bed, on your ass, with no clothes on…

[uncpanda]

Second Chances

AN: In ten years I have NEVER written a oneshot this long, it’s over 10,000 words and nearly twenty pages, but this idea has been bugging me for a few weeks. I hope you enjoy! 

Pairing: Mike Dodds x Fem!reader

Warning: Self harm; after a case Mike does bare knuckle boxing as a form of self punishment, nothing too graphic. Mentions of major character death. 

“So, what’s our reason?” 

Liv doesn’t even glance up at you. After six years, she’s gotten rather good at working through your babbling. “Our reason for what?” 

“Hating the new sergeant? When Rollins and Amaro came we hated them because they weren’t Elliot? Are we hating the new guy because he isn’t Nick?” 

She glares up at you, “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that, right?” 

You shrug, “It’s my specialty.” 

“We didn’t hate Carisi when he transferred in.” 

“No, I didn’t hate him. The rest of you were . . . enh? Not to mention the poor man has been asked to be called Sonny about a billion times and I’m the only one who will do it.” 

“Carisi was brash. . . and then there was that mustache.” You shiver a bit at the memory. That thing had been horrible. “And now Carisi is a much loved member of the team.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you watch the chief walk in with who you assume is his son. You lean back against Liv’s desk, “They don’t look much alike, do they?” 

Liv peers around you, “Nope. Be ready though, I’m going to have you teach him the ropes.” 

You smile and then head out of the office and back to your desk, the one that sits right across from the new sergeant. You catch his eye as he passes by and you give him a small smile before diving into your paperwork. 

You’re just getting to the bad part of the paperwork, when you hear your name called. Your head shoots up and you lock eyes with Liv. She’s smiling, it’s her ‘company’ smile, the one she uses for political shindigs. 

“Y/F/N Grey this is Mike Dodds, our new sergeant. Dodds, this is Grey.” 

Your first thought, standing in front of him is, man is he tall. Your second thought is, man is he pretty. You shake his hand and exchange pleasantries. 

“You mind showing the sergeant the ropes? I’ll be along shortly, but the chief and I need to finish our conversation.” 

“No problem Leiu.” You take the slip of paper from her with the details, “Finn and Sonny already there?” 

“Yep. So do me a favor and make the introductions.” 

“On it.” 

You grab your jacket, do a small spin as you put it on, and smile at your new team member, “Time to head out Sarge.” 

You see the confusion on his face as you head out. You stay quiet on your way to the hotel. He’s nervous, you can see it in the slight twitches in his fingers. He’s doing better than you had on your first day; you’d run into a wall while taking a perp down, and the entire squad had mother henned you for a week. You’d been twenty three, and had been deemed the kid from that moment on. Nevermind the fact that you were twenty-nine now, the nickname was still heavily used. 

You make introductions at the hotel. Your sergeant seems to relax a little bit in the presence of fellow males, and you nearly snort. Finn and Sonny are more weary of him than anyone. They’re fiercely protective of you and Liv and Rollins. Your loveable boys.

You nearly burst out laughing when the Sarge mentions his father. Any possible goodwill for the boys just went out the window, and you ask him, “Can I give you a tip?” 

He looks down at you, “Did I screw up already?” 

Your lips twitch, “No. Just some advice.” 

He looks hesitant, “Okay.” 

“Be Mike.” 

He blinks a few times, “What?” 

“Be Mike. Don’t be Chief Dodds son. Be Mike . . . SVU sergeant.” 

He stills, “You mean, don’t use my dad’s name.” 

You smile fully, “I mean. . . be yourself. Don’t be what others expect you to be. This department is . . . brutal. A lot of the time, we pour our hearts into cases only for it to end up as a slap on the wrist. And that isn’t our ADA’s fault. He’s a good guy, snarky as hell, but he knows how to make an impression . . . and I’m rambling. When I do that, call my name, and I’ll get back on topic. Anyways, we get through everything by being a family. We text at all hours, and we spend holidays together. The only way you’re going to make it here. . . without losing who you are in the job, is by embracing the squad. We’re your people now.” 

He stares at you for a second, “You’re very honest . . . you know that?” 

“Yeah. I’ve been told that. I’ve also been told I’m obnoxious . . . if I get to be too much just let me know.” 

He shakes his head, “No. It’s refreshing.” You beam at him. 

Your Sarge does well. He picks up the terminology quickly, and when you correct him on the water and DNA thing he takes it well. You count those as good signs. He really earns your respect when he doesn’t rat out Rollins to his dad, and you can see a glimmer of respect in Liv’s eyes too. 

As the case wraps up and the paperwork is finished it’s nearly two am, and none of you 

have eaten, “Who’s up for Pizza at my place? Sheets and blankets have just been washed, so the pullout couch and chaise are up for grabs.” 

Rollins declines, but she usually does, and Liv has to go home to Noah. Sonny and Finn are all game though, and you look at Mike expectantly. He hesitates, “I still have paperwork left . . .” 

“And it’ll be there in the morning. When you’re just starting out with those reports they take forever, and you may actually starve and wither away into nothing if you try to do them all at once. Come eat pizza and be subjected to Sonny’s bad taste in movies.” 

“Hey!” You toss him a grin over your shoulder and he rolls his eyes. 

“You sure I’m not intruding, new guy, boss’ son and all that?” 

You roll your eyes, and walk over to him. You grab him by the arm and haul him up, 

“Sonny grab his coat.”  

“Yes ma’am.” 

Mike looks back at you as you literally push him towards the door, “I thought I was in charge.” Both Finn and Sonny laugh at that. 

Sonny is the one who drives, and the boys immediately make themselves at home while you order the pizza before going to change. Mike is the only one who’s a little stiff. You watch as he looks around and stops at a photo, “These your parents.” 

You hand over water bottles to each of the guys, Finn scowls, “No beer?” 

“Not at 2:30 in the morning.” You turn your attention back to Mike, “Yep!”

“They live close by?” 

“No. Seattle. And thank God, they’re worriers.” 

He smiles, “Not cops?” 

“Surgeons. So are my siblings. I went against family tradition, much to my mother’s displeasure. She doesn’t like dangerous jobs.” 

Finn huffs, “That’s an understatement. Your mom calls me at least once a week so I can list the trouble you’ve gotten into.” 

“Well, I am her daughter.” 

Your family is dropped from conversation, as the pizza arrives, and you sprint for the door. Before you can pay Mike steps in and hands over cash. You stare at him, and he stares back, “Did I do something wrong?” 

Before you can tell him about the system you have for paying Finn cuts in, “Don’t you complain about free pizza! I swear.” 

You look back at Mike, “You did nothing wrong, it's very sweet of you. Thank you.” 

He studies you for a second and then crosses his arms against his chest, “There’s some sort of system in place, isn’t there?” 

“Yes. And I will tell you about it, when Finn isn’t around to interrupt or trying to change the rules.” 

Sonny laughs, “He can’t change the rules anymore, you wrote them down, remember?” 

“It’s nearly three am, be happy I’m conscious.” 

The pizza is consumed quickly, and Mike starts to relax more and more, as a movie is put on. Eventually, all of the boys fall fast asleep. Finn on the couch, Sonny on the chaise, and Mike on the floor. At least Finn gave him one of the throw pillows. You take out your assortment of blankets and cover all of them before padding back to your room. 

You wake up to the smell of food. It’s nearly ten am, and the squad has the day off after working pretty much through the night. You trudge out and find Sonny and Mike in the kitchen while Finn is eating cereal at the table. “They were taking too long.” He explains in between bites of lucky charms. 

You roll your eyes fondly, “Just means you’re washing dishes.” 

Sonny snorts, “No he isn’t. The man ruins pots and pans. I will do the dishes.” He turns to Mike, “My mother bought her these pots and pans.” 

Mike’s brow furrows, “Are you two . . .?” 

You burst out laughing, and then look at Sonny, “Sorry. It’s just I know way too much about you, and your childhood, and your family to ever step into that web.” 

He waves away the laughter, and turns to Mike, “Despite my mother’s desire otherwise, she’s like a sister. I got hurt on the job one time and she went to get my mom personally. Of course it was during a bible study meeting, and my aunt Florence, my father’s sister, started bad mouthing me and the job, and Y/N made some comments that put her in her place, and bam, my mother started talking about grandchildren.”

“Also known as the reason I refused to go to your cousin’s wedding with you.” 

Mike grins, “Afraid she was going to pull a gun and force the two of you to get married?” 

You point at him, “You make fun, but when you meet Mama Carisi you’ll understand. I 

also expect you to provide cover so I can sneak out.”  

“I can do that.” 

The boys leave a little while later, with Mike being the last one out. He wavers at the door, “Thank you for this. It’s been a long time since I’ve just been one of the guys, and not . . . “ 

You deepen your voice and finish his sentence, “Michael Dodd, perfect son with a stick up his ass?” 

His eyes go wide, “You don’t pull punches, do you?” 

You shrug, “Like you said. I’m very honest. And it’s under those circumstances that I’ll say, I think last night might have knocked the stick loose.” 

He sighs, “Until I see my dad again.” 

You lean against the frame, “It’s not easy being a legacy kid, having the expectations thrust upon you. I know. I’ve been there. I was supposed to be a cardiothoracic surgeon, that’s the specialty my mother had me pegged for. Wanted me to go do my residency in Switzerland with an aunt who runs an institute. 

“I swear, when I told her I was going to be a cop, she went white as a sheet. She said, tragedy follows our family, and it would end with me dead in the street. She didn’t talk to me for a week after that.” 

“And now?” 

You smile, “Now she comes to any sort of promotion or awards thing, she flies out just to see me, and we text constantly. It helps reassure her that I’m okay.” 

There’s a moment of silence before Mike admits, “I wanted to open a bar. I even tended bar when I got out of the army. Dad tolerated it for a little while, I think he knew I needed time to recover, but eventually the conversations about where my life was going started, and . . .yeah.” 

“Are you unhappy?” 

He shakes his head, “No. I love what I do.” 

You smile, “So do I.” 

There’s another moment of silence before you say your goodbyes. 

You find a good rhythm with your sergeant. He hits a few bumps in the road but he’s a good cop, and he’s really trying to make himself a part of the team. For the most part people are pretty receptive, but Rollins is still on edge around him, and Liv is . . . wary. The most important thing is that he doesn’t name drop anymore, even when his father stops by he addresses him by sir. That goes a long way towards unifying things. 

Then comes his first kid case. You can see the toll it takes on him. He goes from warm and welcoming to closed off and self loathing. You know there’s nothing you can say to make him feel better. So, you stay nearby, and you stay quiet. You don’t even tease him when he and Sonny come back dressed in uniform. You do spare a minute to think about how good he looks though. 

When the case is wrapped up, and he’s drowning himself in paperwork, you remind him that your door is open. You don’t expect him to use it, but he does. He knocks on your door a few minutes before midnight. You’re lying on the couch, getting ready to fall asleep in a position that’s going to leave your neck crying in the morning, when you hear it. 

You’re a little surprised to see Mike on the other side of the door, part of you had expected Sonny. Kid cases usually lead to him crashing on your couch. The stubble is still covering his jaw, and his hair is a mess. He’s dressed in workout clothes, and you notice his hands wrapped in bloody bandages. You tsk, he’s been punishing himself. 

Without a word you steer him towards the bathroom. You force him to sit on the counter, before you clean his knuckles. “Please tell me this was the result of a punching bag, or another consenting adult? I don’t want to have to break in a new sergeant.” 

“I’m the only one hurt.” 

You rub neosporin over the cuts, before you apply some gauze, and then bandages. When it’s done you pull out the Advil and pop two in his hand before handing him a small paper cup. He pops the pills before sliding off the counter. You push him into the doorway so you can clean up. 

You can feel his eyes tracking you, and then you feel them on your ass. You straighten and look at him, “Are looking at my ass?” He blushes and you laugh, “Good to know I still got it.” 

“Sorry.” 

You shrug, “You can’t do this every time Mike.” 

He leans against the frame, “I know.” 

“Bloody knuckles aren’t a good look.” 

“Usually I wear gloves, but tonight I needed to feel it.” 

You sigh, and once again steer him towards the living room. You push him onto the couch and he looks up at you, “You know, you push me around a lot.” 

You roll your eyes, as you search for the card you need, “Someone’s gotta do it.” You find it and hand it over to him. 

“A therapist?” 

You wrap your arms around yourself, “It’s who I go to. It’s how I keep the job from swallowing me whole. And this job, this department will do it Mike. Don’t let it.” He stares at you for a second and your brow furrows. You settle down on the couch next to him and place a hand on his forearm. You don’t miss how he leans into it, and that’s when it hits you; the poor guy is touch starved. 

Your lips purse, mainly because you didn’t notice it before. You’re a fairly affectionate person to those you know. You hang off of Sonny all the time, or lay your head on Liv’s shoulder, you’ve been known to rest your chin on Barba’s shoulder as he reads, but you haven’t gotten to that point with Mike yet. That needs to change. 

You grip his shoulder and gently tug him towards you. He hesitates for half a second before he leans into it, and you have his head settled in your lap. You run your fingers through his hair, and let your nails scrape against his scalp. He melts into it. And when the sobs come, and tears for Lily fall, you don’t stop, because Mike Dodds is a good man. 

You lean your head down so that you’re bowed over him, and you whisper reassuring words: he did his best, he’s a good man, he’s kind, he’s strong, he’s gentle. You feel him grip your hand with one his own, and you know this moment of weakness is a huge sign of trust, and you wonder who he has in his life. You decide he has you and the squad and you’ll make damn sure that’s enough. 

You wake up the next morning, on top of Mike. Your limbs are tangled together and his arms are holding you close to his chest. You can feel yourself blushing, especially when, in his sleep he buries his nose in your hair. But you don’t fight it. You actually like being in his arms, and you stop the thought there because you can’t go any farther. 

Eventually, he starts to stir, and when he’s awake he blinks at you owlishly and you declare, “You’re like an octopus when you sleep, you have to glomp onto something.” 

He laughs, “Nope. Just you.” 

You roll your eyes, and he lets you go as you roll off of him. “I bet you have a body pillow and everything.” 

He snorts and follows you into the kitchen, “Yeah right.” 

You start making coffee, and you hear Mike ask, “Do you think having a life outside of the force is actually possible?” 

You raise an eyebrow, “I’d imagine so. Liv seems to have figured it out with Noah. . . I mean it took her fifteen years . . .” The quip doesn’t get the smile you expect. “What’s going on Mike?” 

“I want it.” 

“A life?” 

“The wife, the kids, the house in the suburbs.” 

You lean against the counter, “So what’s stopping you from getting it?” 

“Life, my father, the rules? What about you?” 

“Husband sounds nice. So do the kids. I don’t know about the suburbs though. I think I’d spend more time in the car than at home. Plus, I like knowing I can get takeout at any time day or night.” 

He smiles at that, “I could compromise with that.” 

Your brow furrows as you process and then your mouth makes a little “oh” shape. He smiles, “For such a good detective you’re oblivious.” 

“Only in my personal life. I actually ended up dating a guy for a year and didn’t know it until he tried to kiss. I thought we were just hanging out!” 

Mike walks towards, you and hesitates before you give him a small nod. He cages you in with his arms and bends down so he’s looking you in the eye, “I’d like to take you on a date detective.” 

You grin, “See, that’s how you do it. Simple, straight forward, and I don’t have to interpret anything.” 

“Is that a yes?” 

You roll your eyes, “Duh.” 

He laughs, and you nudge him, “Come on, you have to admit this will make a good story to tell those hypothetical children you were talking about.”” 

“Yeah. Oh how did I ask your mother out, well it was just after a case, I alluded to the future, and she still didn’t get a hint, and when I asked her out she said duh.” 

You pat his cheek affectionately, “You’ve got time to work on your storytelling skills.” 

You move to walk away and he snags you around the waist, spinning you towards him and you squeal before falling into laughter as his fingers dance across your ribs, tickling you. You break free and make a mad dash around the apartment. You dodge him for several minutes before going on the offensive. You jump from the couch and onto his back. 

He takes your weight: no problem, and makes sure your secure before allowing the two of you to fall back onto the couch together. You wrap your arms around him from behind, and clasp them together right near his heart, and lean forward so that your cheek is pressed against his.  His large hand comes up to cover yours. Quietly he says, “You’re one of the only people I can be ‘just Mike’ around.” 

“Hmm. I think you should be ‘just Mike’ all the time. He’s a good dude.” 

He laughs, and when he turns his head you lean in and brush your lips against his. He’s hesitant at first, and you can understand why. He’s a good guy, but with the things you see on the job, he needs to be sure. So you say, “You can always check in with me Mike. My standard code is green is good to go, yellow is slow down, and red is stop, just ask for my color.” 

He visibly relaxes, “Color.” 

“Green.” 

His lips crash against yours. They’re warm, and soft, and you think he tastes just a tad like vanilla chapstick. You save that tidbit for later, as your hand threads through his hair. It’s soft and a little fluffy. All in all the moment turns into you two making out like teenagers on the couch and you both leave that day with a few new marks on your neck. 

You don’t disclose, not right away. While you’re pretty sure what you and Mike have is the real deal, you want to be careful. You know his dad isn’t going to take your relationship well, and filing disclosure paperwork is a big neon sign for a fight. 

So, you pass the days with secret looks and covert touches, as Mike continues to fully integrate himself into the squad. You catch him joking with Liv, and talking baseball with Rollins. He, Sonny, and Finn actually go out to the bar to watch some pay per view fight every other week. Things are good. . . until they aren’t. 

It starts off as a simple favor from Liv asking you to pick her up on the way to the DNA conference. You agree, rather reluctantly from the warmth of Mike’s arms while he still sleeps wrapped around you like a koala. He’s spending more and more nights at your place in the six months you’ve been dating. In fact, he basically lives with you at this point. He has clothes in drawers and hanging up in the closet. His gym bag has a home in your hall closet, and he has shampoo, conditioner, and other toiletries in the bathroom. It should seem like things are moving too fast, instead it’s like things are meant to be. 

You untangle yourself from Mike’s arms, and get ready as quietly as possible. When you get out of the shower, he’s awake but still in bed. He smiles lazily at you as you get dressed, “Leaving a little early, aren’t you?” 

“Liv asked me to pick her up on the way to the conference.” 

He sighs and shifts under the covers, “You guys gone all day?” 

“Most of it, unless something comes up.” 

You swoop down and kiss him, before you can pull back he murmurs, “Love you.” 

He goes still, when he realizes what he just said, but you don’t hesitate, “Love you too.” You toss him a wink that has hime laughing and you’re out the door. It’s fast but you and Mike just click. 

You pick Liv up, and you thank her profusely when she shoves a cup of coffee at you. She grins, “Don’t thank me yet. It’s a bribe. I need to make a stop. Lucy is worried about the other family she nannies for.” 

You shrug, “Give me the address and let’s go.” 

“There’s the enthusiasm I love you for!” You just laugh. 

You follow her to the door, and take in the sights on the street. You never see the butt of the gun coming. It makes contact with the back of your head . . . hard, and you go down, and then everything goes black.

When you come to your  hands are ziptied behind your back, and you have to wiggle into a sitting position.

You look around and find Liv in a chair next to who you assume is the mother. Her face has bruises blooming. Your gaze moves to the two kids in the corner. They look terrified.  Your gaze then shifts to a man and a woman; they’re obviously on something, and that is not good. 

The man, Joe, catches you up on the situation; you’re being held hostage, the mother is being sent out with a third accomplice to get the money they want and you, Liv, and the kids are his meal ticket. When the mother leaves, Joe decides to separate you from the group. He grabs you by the hair, and drags you to your feet. 

The moment you’re standing you act on instinct, and you throw your knee into his crotch. He goes down with a whimper, and a second later the girl, Roxie, has punched you, sending you back to the floor. “You bitch!” 

He moves towards you and you glare, “Touch me, and you’ll lose that hand.” He looks wary, having the family jewels attacked tends to do that. Instead of grabbing you again he points the gun at you, “Kitchen now.” 

You do as you’re told, and Roxie is the one who secures you to the table, right next to the unconscious and bleeding father. You listen as the mother is led out of the house, and Liv and the kids are led upstairs. 

The father is unconscious and bleeding from the head. You try to tell yourself that those wounds always look worse. Eventually, exhaustion begins to tug at you. You feel your head dip several times before you allow it to just take over. Knocking on the door is what wakes you.

You listen carefully, and when you hear Mike’s voice on the other side you want to cry. Instead you do your best to keep your face straight and unemotional. He and Sonny are sent away, but you know he knows something is wrong. 

A little while later you hear yelling from upstairs, and after that the telltale signs of sirens. Hostage negotiation is about to begin. Liv and the kids are brought back down, and you’re kept in the kitchen. You listen as negotiations are made for the father to be taken out. You’re a little surprised, but not by much, when Mike enters posing as one of the paramedics. 

You make eye contact with him, and mouth the word green; you’re doing okay. 

He mouths back the word red; he’s not okay. You’re in here, and he can’t get you out, and you know it’s killing him. You watch him disappear through the door and you want to cry because all you want to do is go back to that morning, when he was wrapped around you, and you were safe. 

It’s another hour or two before Roxie leaves to check the SUV, and another hour after that before Joe decides to go out. You’re being left behind, apparently Joe doesn’t like you. But before he goes he squats down in front of you and says, “If it wouldn’t have swat rushing in here, I’d put a bullet in your head.” 

That’s a lie. He isn’t willing to kill, or he would have done it before Mike and Sonny had come looking for you. He knows the jail sentence that carries, and killing a cop usually got you life. You don’t say anything, because you know Joe’s minutes are limited. So instead, you close your eyes and you listen for the sounds. 

Things are unusually quiet before you hear Liv shout and then, the sound of a bullet. Not a minute later the front door bangs open, and Mike is in front of you. He has you cut free in seconds and your shoulders and arms weep in relief as they’re freed. You sort of collapse on top of him before the paramedics move in to help. 

You’re taken to the hospital, and Mike is the one to ride with you. You can hear him shoot Sonny down when he offers. It’s a little forceful and kind of harried. He’s allowing himself to freakout a little bit now. 

Once you’re safely in the ambulance you take his hand and admit, “Yellow.” 

He lets out a breath, “Same.” 

He doesn’t leave your side. Some uniformed officers come to him as you’re in the emergency room, and he sends them to Finn. When his father calls he sends it straight to voicemail, and he admits, “I think it’s time we disclose.” 

“Can we do it after the doctors look at me?” 

He grins, “You’re cracking jokes, that’s good. It means you’re going to be okay.” 

The nurse comes in and asks for your medical history, she looks at Mike pointedly when she does this, and you wave her off. “He can stay.” 

You detail how you had your appendix out when you were eleven, and the few non-life threatening injuries you’ve had on the job: two bullet grazes and a broken arm. And then she asks a doozy of a question, “Are you pregnant or think you might be pregnant?” 

Your immediate reaction is no. You haven’t been in a relationship in years and you’re not a one night stand kind of girl. Then you remember, you’re in a relationship, and yes you’ve used protection, but nothing is a hundred percent effective, especially after watching Mike box. You try to think about when your last period was, but your head hurts from the math. 

You can feel Mike’s eyes on you, and he quietly says “It was over a month ago.” 

You blanche, and the nurse nods as she catches on, “How about we do a test real quick.” 

“Please.” 

She takes some blood and disappears, and you look at Mike with wide eyes. He takes your hand, “It’s going to be okay.” 

“We’ve only been together. . . .” 

“I know. And knowing us. . . it will be okay.” 

“Your dad . . .” 

“Is not a factor in this. This is your choice.” And he looks so strong and so steady, you know what your choice is. 

It takes about an hour to get the results, and the same nurse slips back in. She hands you the piece of paper that reads positive. You hand it to Mike and the nurse looks between the two of you before saying, “That’s going to be one pretty baby.” 

You burst out laughing, and Mike joins you a few seconds later. You’re told an MRI is the best option, but they’re still going to cover your stomach with something to be on the safe side. You have a concussion and they want to keep you overnight to monitor you. 

When that’s dealt with the OBGYN on duty is sent in to check you out. You’re not far along, only seven weeks, and you wonder how you missed it. The doctor assures you that it’s normal, and then asks if you want to hear the baby’s heartbeat. Once again, Mike leaves it up to you, and you nod. 

You grip Mike’s hand as you wait in silence, and when you hear it, a rush of relief leaves you, and you feel a few tears fall. Mike wipes them away and places a kiss on your forehead. You’re cleaned up, and a few minutes later the room is open to visitors. 

Sonny comes in literally seconds later, carrying pizza and cannoli. “I brought food, and managed to convince my mother to not come up and see you. She is, however, lighting a candle for you. Whether it’s for you feeling better or us getting together, I don’t know.” 

You watch Mike’s jaw clench from the corner of your eye. Sonny doesn’t know about you and Mike, and it’s a long standing joke between the two of you since he’s hopelessly in love with Barba, and usually Mike doesn’t mind, but you can tell he’s feeling a little protective. You find that a hostage and surprise daddy-hood will do that to a man. 

“Thanks Sonny.” 

“No problem. The lieu is asking for you by the way, Sarge. She’s just down the hall, 308. Tucker, the Chief, and Finn were in there too.” 

Reluctantly, you watch Mike move out of the room, and once he’s gone Sonny closes the door and turns to you, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” 

Of course he’s figured it out, “Does anyone else know?” 

“Naw. Everyone knows you two are close, I just know the two of you better than they do. And the mom jokes have been wearing on him lately. So, how long have you two been . . . ?” 

“Six months.” 

He hands you a slice of pizza, “You going to disclose?” 

“Kind of have to.”

“Have to?” 

You swallow your bite of pizza, “I’m pregnant. Seven weeks. And I’m only telling you, because you’re my best friend and you know everything.” 

“I thought your parents were doctors. Didn’t they teach you about safe sex?” He teases. 

“Yes. They did not, however, teach me about the allure of watching one’s partner box.” 

He makes a face, “Too much information.” 

You scoff, “I’ve listened to you go on and on about Barba and your secret dates, and him waiting for you after you took the bar, and much more sordid things. You can handle my PG 13 story.” 

He pushes another slice on you, “Just eat, so my niece or nephew can grow properly.” 

You’re released from the hospital the next day. Sonny is the one to drive you home and stay with you while Mike is forced into the precinct. He’s determined to get the disclosure paperwork in ASAP, and the paperwork in regards to the hostage situation is somewhat sorted on top of that. 

When he finally gets home later that night, his tie and jacket are stuffed into his gym bag, and his sleeves are rolled up. He collapses on the sofa next to you while Sonny just watches in amusement. “Paperwork in?” 

Mike allows his body to fall so that his head lands in your lap and he’s staring at Sonny, “It’s in. I was told it might take a few months to end up on my father’s desk though, since it has to go through HR.” 

It doesn’t take a few months for it to land on his father’s desk. In fact, news of your relationship spreads like wildfire through the department. It results in teasing from Finn and Rollins, a sit down/ serious conversation with Liv, and stares from others in the precinct. You make it a habit to keep things strictly professional in the workplace, all while keeping your baby a secret. 

Mike’s dad blows into the office, two weeks after the paperwork is filed. His face is red with anger and he locks onto you the moment he storms through the doorway. Mike catches him before he reaches you. There’s a whispered, “Not here,” before Dodds senior is whisked away into one of the conference rooms. 

You do your best to ignore it, but you can still hear snippets; accusations of you sleeping your way to a better job, accusations of you using Mike, accusation after accusation, and it has your eyes prickling with tears. Damn pregnancy hormones. 

Barba comes in half way through the tirade, where the entire department is watching the father/son duo duke it out, and settles next to you. He offers you a handkerchief, and you just know that his boyfriend told him what’s going on. 

That’s when Liv notices and scoots over to you, “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” 

You’re just about to respond when you hear Mike shout out, “Cause I love her dad. We’re having a baby!” 

Your face burns as Liv’s jaw drops open. You grab your stuff and you bolt. You’re later told by Sonny that Dodds senior actually collapses into a chair at the news. 

You make it back to the apartment, fully exhausted, and climb into bed. Maybe if you hide under the covers long enough, the embarrassment of today will fade away? You groan into your pillow. Eventually, you fall asleep. 

You wake up when the bed shifts. You’re more than a little cranky when you pull the covers back to look at your boyfriend. He moves in for a kiss and you dodge it, and glare, “Red.” 

He sighs and nods, “I’m sorry.” 

You sit up, “That never should have happened in the precinct, Mike. I’m . . . I don’t even have words for how humiliated I am. And I can’t believe you told him about the baby. . . I’m not even out of the first trimester.” 

“I’m sorry, I just . . . I got so mad. He kept talking about how everything we wanted could be ruined by this, that there were other girls out there, and just a bunch of bad stuff. And as I stood there listening, something just clicked. If I let him, he’d run the rest of my life. He’d pick out who I was supposed to marry, tell me the appropriate number of kids to have . . . and I just snapped. I said literally everything that’s been on my mind for years.” 

Your lips twitch, “Feel good?” 

“So, good.” 

You wait a second before you say, “Yellow.” 

He smiles and moves to take your hands, “It took me a while but I finally stood up to him. It just took him threatening what I love most.” 

“Better late than never. Thank you for defending our honor. That being said, if I see your father again before this day is a distant memory, I will scratch his eyes out.” 

Mike sighs, “That might be difficult.” 

“Why?” 

“He’s outside the front door. He heard the word baby, and I swear the man started making plans.” 

You groan, “We’re going to have to go into WITSEC, or kill him. I don’t think there’s any middle ground.” 

Mike places a kiss on your temple, “What do you want to do?” 

“Send him away. I really, I just . . . I can’t deal with him right now Mike.” 

He doesn’t hesitate, “Okay.” 

He’s gone for only a few minutes before he returns. You make room for him to cuddle up beside you and he does just. You take the position of big spoon, and wrap around him like a boa constrictor and say, “Green.”  He just smiles. 

You are put on desk duty the next day, which you feel is a little unfair. Rollins was nearly six months along before she had to stay behind a desk. Apparently, carrying the chief’s grandkid meant different rules. 

Three months later, you’re still successfully dodging the chief, and you’re starting to show. You’re trying to button your pants, but it’s not happening. Mike, who has officially moved in, is watching from the bed, “We need to get you some maternity clothes. We can go this weekend.” 

You look at him in the mirror and then down at your protruding belly. You poke it once, and sigh,”That doesn’t solve the problem of what I’m going to wear today.”  

“Wear the blue dress. You’re not carrying a sidearm, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“It doesn’t fit over my boobs anymore.” 

His gaze flickers to your chest and then you see a small grin, “Yeah, I can understand that. Do you have a skirt that would fit? You could pair it with one of my dress shirts, and then we could stop by a store tonight?” 

You swoop down and place a kiss on his lips, “That works.” 

You find a skirt with enough stretch, and tuck Mike’s dress shirt into it. It’s a little baggy, but not overly so. You slip on some flats and you head out the door together. Mike’s only dropping you off at the precinct, he’s headed upstate to visit Gregory Yates while you have another fascinating day of paperwork ahead of you. 

You kiss him goodbye right as Liv steps out of the precinct, she shoots you a smile and jokes, “I don’t have to kiss him when I get in, do I?” 

“Nope. I don’t share.” 

She laughs and they’re gone a minute later. You get a few more stares than usual as you walk through the precinct. Your bump is on display instead of hidden under previously baggy shirts. Finn lets out a whistle when you walk in, “You sure you’re not having twins.” 

Rollins punches his arm for you, while Sonny stops just to the side and stares, “Is the baby kicking yet?” 

“I feel flutters, but no one else has been able to feel anything.” 

“By no one, you mean Mike?” 

“Well he is the father.” 

He crosses his arms, “Let me try.”

You sit down at your desk, “No. This is important to Mike, and I don’t really like anyone touching me but him right now.” 

He pouts a little bit, and you say, “Once it’s more common I’ll let you feel. I promise.” That’s all it takes for him to be smiling Sonny again. 

It’s nearly lunchtime when you get the call; Yates and Rudnick have escaped. It’s all hands on deck, well all hands except you. You’re left behind to coordinate things in the precinct and pass on information; which is why you’re completely alone when Dodds Senior enters the precinct. 

He locks onto you, and approaches carefully. He stops just a few feet away, and you stand up from your desk. His eyes go to you bump, and he asks, “Do you have any updates for me detective?” 

“Rudnick has been located, detective Carisi is speaking with him, and teams have been dispatched.” 

“Chicago PD?” 

“Has joined the teams. One detective is with Sonny and Rollins, and the other is with Mike.” 

He sighs, “With any luck we’ll get Yates too.” 

“Yes sir.” 

He nods, and his hands go to his hips, “How have you been detective?” 

“Fine sir.” 

“And the baby?”

Your hand goes to rest on your bump protectively, and you debate telling him anything, “Good as well, sir. We got to see them on our last visit.” 

His eyes widen slightly, “Do you know what it is?” 

“We have it written on a sheet of paper. We haven’t looked yet.” 

“Not curious?” 

“Of course, but Mike and I have a bet going on in regards to the name. We settled on a first name in each case, but the middle name was bugging us. So we made a deal, whoever looks first loses, and the winner gets to decide the middle name.” 

“And if neither of you look?” 

“Barba gets to decide.” 

His brow furrows, “The DA?” 

“Yeah. I had a crying fit early on, and he got me like a dozen muffins to make me feel better, in all the different flavors I wanted. That qualifies him for sainthood.”  

“I see. And your parents? How do they feel about being grandparents?” 

“They don’t know.” 

“They don’t?” 

“No. You see they’re surgeons, so are my siblings. Which means if my parents or siblings find out, then the rest of the hospital finds out, and all of a sudden my OB is being bothered at all hours of the night, and I’m getting texts about totally private things.” 

His lips twitch, “When do you plan on telling them?” 

“When I’m in labor, and not partway through either, most of the way through. That way, they hopefully won’t get here when I’m in labor.” 

“Your family dynamic is rather complicated, isn’t?” 

“I’m the youngest of four. I was adopted when I was only a few days old. I was abandoned at the hospital, and my mom said she just knew I was meant to be theirs, she says I’ve been surprising them ever since. So, in all actuality, I’m pretty much on brand.” 

He smiles, “Well. I hope to meet them one day.” 

“I’m sure you will. This will be the first grandkid.” 

“You siblings don’t have any children?” 

“Not yet. My oldest sister is in the middle of her second specialty fellowship, and the other two are finishing up residency.” 

Dodds senior has just opened his mouth to ask another question, when the phone rings. On the other end is Benson, and what she has to say makes your blood run cold. You hang, and grab the chief’s arm, “Mike’s been shot. We need to go.” You don’t need to say anything else. His speed picks up, and he reverses the hold you have on him, so that he has an arm wrapped around your shoulders as he leads you to his car. 

The ride is filled with worry, made only worse by the hormones running through your body. You reach the hospital, white as a sheet, and you’re on the verge of name dropping when a doctor comes out to see you. He leads you to the back where Mike is. It’s a through and through shot that will require some PT and time off, but he’s okay. 

His eyes are a little blurry, a clear sign of pain medication, but he holds his hand out to you and you take it. You swoop down to place a kiss on his brow, “You scared the crap out of me Mike.” 

“Hhm, Sorry honey.” 

You growl a bit, “That Chicago detective is lucky I’m not hunting her down right now.” 

He tugs you down next to him, “It’s not her fault.”

You don’t believe that for a second. His hand settles on your lower back, “Hey dad. Didn’t expect to see you here so soon.” 

“I was with Y/N when the call came in.” 

He raises an eyebrow, “You two were together? Without supervision?” He focuses on his dad, “And she didn’t kill you?” 

Dodds senior hesitates and you say, “We’re working on things. Today was a good start.” 

He lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank God.” He focuses on you again, “I’m sorry we couldn’t go shopping today.” 

His dad perks up, “Shopping for baby things? I can always help with that. I can help put stuff together too.” 

Your lips quirk, “Maternity clothes. Nothing fits except yoga pants, and if you let me wear those to work I think that would be blatant favoritism.”  

“Oh.” 

“But we do need to start getting stuff for the nursery. Get all the office stuff into storage.” 

He nods, “I can do that. I know people!” And before you know it he’s off making plans and calling people. You look down at Mike, “He’s a little bit of a control freak, ain’t he?” 

Mike scoffs, “That’s down playing it big time.” 

The remaining months of your pregnancy are spent getting things ready for the baby. Dodds senior becomes somewhat of a fixture in your apartment. He and Mike assemble furniture together, and you can see where he’s trying to let Mike make his own choices. When he suggest counter terrorism and Mike turns it down, he doesn’t bring it up again. 

Your baby shower happens in your eighth month, right as the Munson case hits the news. You’re in the elevator with Barba when he’s threatened, and you’re more than a little touched when he steps in front of you. You spend the time memorizing the bastard’s face, and then you chew Barba out for not telling anyone about the threats. Sonny is especially upset with his boyfriend. 

He’s in the middle of chewing him out when you get the call from senior, “Mike’s in a hostage situation, get here ASAP.” 

Rollins drives you. You arrive and William is there to intercept you, you’re just about to ask what the hell happened when you hear the gun go off, and a chill runs down your spine. You can feel time slow down, and then you hear the call, “Officer down!” 

You feel the bile rise as you push into the house, and see Mike bleeding on the floor, with William using his jacket to try and stop it.  You glare at Munsen who’s now in handcuffs, but you can’t do anything. You just watch in horror as the blood pours through. 

You can faintly hear William call your name, but it takes you a few seconds to focus. “Am I riding or you?”

“You.” The response comes before you can stop it. They’re gone a second later, and you feel an arm wrap around you. You look up at Rollins, and she gives you a sad smile, before leading you towards the car. 

Once in, you take out your phone and find the contact. It rings twice before she answers: “Hello?”

You can’t hold back the sob in your voice, “Mom, I need you.” 

The hospital is a flurry of activity when you arrive, officers line the walls, and William is at the center with Olivia. He goes to you immediately, asking if you need anything. You shake your head as a doctor approaches. He looks scared shitless, and you know he’s talked to your mother, “Detective Grey?” You nod, and he swallows visibly, “I’m Leon Richards, the hospital administrator. I just talked with your mother, Dr. Grey, she’s assigned someone from Grey-Sloan Memorial to observe the surgery while she and your father fly in.” 

Your throat is dry, “Thank you.” 

“Please let us know if you need anything.” You say nothing else as he walks away. The name Meredith Grey carries a lot of weight in the medical world. And you can’t help the burst of laughter, because you had warned Mike against using his father’s name, and here you were using your mothers. Everyone looks at you like you’re crazy, but you suppose that’s allowed because no one says anything.

It takes several hours before your mother and father arrive. You study them as they walk towards you. Your father’s face is slightly wrinkled. Your mother keeps her hair dyed, and she looks incredibly good for her age. She takes one look at you, and your protruding belly, and pulls you into a hug, “You are so my child.” 

She passes you to your dad next. He whispers words of comfort in your ear as your mother stomps off in search of who’s in charge. “She had Bailey and Jo observe the surgery. They were sending her updates through the whole thing. No doubt she wants to go in and make sure they didn’t botch anything up.” 

You take another shuddering breath, “I don’t know what I’ll do if. . .” 

“Don’t go there love. Don’t let yourself go there.” 

You sigh, “How can I not, I mean look at you and mom . . . you lost Abby and mom lost Derek, and now. . . now I might lose Mike.” 

Your father doesn’t say anything. He knows tragedy like the back of his hand, and he knows Meredith does too. They’ve both been in this situation; the potential loss of losing their person. And he has no doubt Mike is your person. While you may not have told them about their impending grandparent status you had told them all about Mike, and the boy had even joined you on zoom calls. Cormac had liked the young man, he had fit in well. He had taken the teasing from Liam and Austin well, he’d talked sports with Bailey, and had handled Zola’s interrogation well, and he had managed to make Ellis laugh. He was good people. 

“Tell me about your pregnancy. About my grandchild. Your brothers and sisters are going to flip when they find out you kept this a secret.” 

Your lips twitch, “You guys would have dragged me home and wrapped me in bubble wrap.” 

“You’ll understand that feeling soon enough. The moment you hold that baby, you’ll understand the desire to protect it from every evil in the world. I felt it with Liam. I felt it with Austin. I felt it with Zola, Bailey, and Ellis when I met them. And I felt it with you the first time I saw you in the NICU.

“You were so tiny, but you were such a fighter. I remember your mother coming up to bug me for a consult down in the ER, and she just paused at the sight of you. We weren’t even dating then, you know? We just, each saw you, and felt that you were ours. Brought the kids up and they agreed.” 

“And now, here you are nearly thirty years later.” 

He nods, “No matter how this ends, you’ll survive. You’ll go on for your little one.” 

Your hand cradles your bump as a kick comes through. There’s a shout of your name and you lean forward to see your mom. She’s dressed in scrubs, with the ferry boat scrub cap on. All she says is, “I’m going in. I’ll see you on the other side.” And then she’s gone. 

It’s another two hours before you see her again. And in that time your dad forces you to eat, drink some water, and walk around. When your mom appears again, she has a small army of doctors shuffling behind her, and looking at her in awe. You motion for William to join you.

She smiles, “He’s stable. He’s in the recovery room right now, when he’s moved to his ICU room you can see him.” 

You throw your arms around her as tight as they’ll go, and she hugs back. When you pull back you can feel the tears, and she’s quick to wipe them away. She pulls out her phone, “Okay, now stand where I can get your profile, so I can send a picture to the family and freak them out.”  

You do as she asks, before you settle in for a lecture on hiding a pregnancy. You listen to her rant and when she sees you not taking it seriously, she asks, “Why are you smiling?” 

“Because both you and your mother hid a pregnancy. Technically, I’m just following family tradition.” 

She looks at your dad, “Cormac.” 

He shrugs, “She’s stubborn, like you love. We knew that when she insisted she never needed training wheels on her bike, we knew that when she didn’t cry for use to stay when we dropped her off at kindergarten, we knew that when she decided to be a cop instead of a doctor.” 

Your mother’s lips twitch, but before she can say anything a nurse comes out to tell her that Mike’s been moved back to ICU. She leads you and William back, and your dad tags along as well. 

Mike looks incredibly pale and your mother assures you that’s from the blood loss, and they have a transfusion going on still. “It’ll still be a while before he wakes up.” 

The four of you settle in. Your mom doesn’t say much, she continually checks on Mike, and your father examines his chart. 

When his eyes do open, you can sense something’s wrong. It’s not just the anesthesia, something is wrong you can feel it in your gut. When he gets some things confused you look towards your mom and dad who are studying you. When you shake your head, something isn’t right, they both pounce. 

Your mother starts a neurological exam while your dad gets your aunt Ameila on the phone. She’s put on speaker a moment later and she starts listing out tests, while your mother responds with what she sees. It takes three before Ameila barks to get him back into surgery, it’s an aneurysm. Your dad pushes the code blue button, and doctors and nurses come running. 

They’re both barking out orders, and you’re a little surprised when your dad heads back towards the operating room too, and you’re once again left to wait. You pace this time, non stop, and you can feel senior’s eyes on you the entire time. 

It’s a few hours later when your dad comes out. Your breath stills in your lungs, and you know it’s not good. His voice is serious, “He’s alive. The neuro surgeon did an excellent job, your aunt Ameila observed from Seattle. She’s going to fly out as soon as she can. However there was bleeding on the brain. They’ve put him into a medically induced coma to heal. We won’t know the extent of the damage, or if there even is any damage until we feel confident about bringing him out of it. And there’s always a chance things could get worse.” 

The words wash over you, and then there’s this blinding pain in your belly. You nearly go to the floor and you hear your father yelling for help, and then everything goes blissfully dark. 

You wake up in a hospital bed, and find your mom next to you. “Your blood pressure is through the roof. It sent you and the baby into distress.” 

“Mike?” 

“He’s hanging in there.” She adjusts so she’s sitting on the side of your bed, “You have to go on bed rest though. Your dad and I took some time off work, we’re going to stay with you.” 

You don’t protest, you just lean into her hand when she cups your cheek, and you try not to cry.

Bed rest isn’t fun. It’s you sitting on the couch, with either your mother or your father watching over you. Whichever one isn’t there, is at the hospital, because they’re workaholics, and no hospital is going to say no to Meredith Grey or Cormac Hayes doing surgeries or consultations.

Your Aunt Amelia arrives, and it’s through zoom that you watch her examine Mike. Her prognosis is good, but she won’t know for certain until he wakes up, and she’s not comfortable waking him up just yet. She stops by your apartment for a hug, and to feel the baby kick and then she’s on the next flight out. She’s not a fan of New York. Too many bad memories, she says. 

You go into labor nearly two weeks into bedrest. The baby will still be early, but not terribly so. Your father figures he or she will spend a week in the NICU at most. Your parents take turns coaching you through labor, but you draw the line at either of them delivering the baby. Instead your poor OB is subjected to their stares of death each time you cry out in pain. Then again, that’s your fault, you refused the epidural. 

It takes fourteen hours of labor to bring your baby into the world, and during that time your get to hear both of your mother’s birth stories. They don’t help things. But the moment you hear your son cry you forget all about it, because your dad was right; all you want to do is wrap him in your arms and protect him from all the bad things in the world. 

You get to hold him briefly, before your dad whisks him away to the NICU to make sure he’s okay while your mom stays with you. She places a kiss on your sweaty forehead and tells you just how proud of you she is. 

You’re kept overnight for observation before you’re sent home. And it’s at that point that you begin to live at the hospital. You go back and forth between the baby you haven’t named and the boyfriend who’s unconscious. You tell each of them about the other. You’re constantly exhausted. 

Eventually, your mom and dad have to head back to Seattle, but to your pleasant surprise Zola flies out in their stead. You and Zo had always been close; partly because of the adoption thing and partly because the two of you had just always clicked. 

The two of you stare down at your son and she says, “I can’t believe you grew a human being from scratch.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

There’s a moment of silence before she says, “Before long, Mike can be here with you.” 

You look at her and she shrugs, “Neuro fellow, remember?” 

You grin, because just like her dad and aunt Amelia, she’s absolutely brilliant in the field. You know she’s gotten offers from all the big hospitals, including Grey Sloan. 

“I was thinking about taking a job here, after my fellowship is done.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Making sure you and Mike stay out of trouble, and being able to see my favorite nephew whenever I want are pretty appealing draws. By the way, my nephew needs a name other than baby boy.” 

“I know. But we have time. And Mike has already missed so much, I don’t want him to miss that too.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Turns out, your brilliant sister is right. Mike is brought out of his coma three days later. By that time his incisions are looking great, and you figure he’ll be in a lot less pain than when he initially woke up. 

You watch from the corner of the room as Zola is allowed to do the exam under a local doctor’s watchful eye. She beams at the end, “You got lucky Mike. Your tests and scans show no brain damage. You should thank Y/N for catching the signs.” 

There are tears in his eyes, and his voice is rough from having been on a vent at the beginning of this mess, “Hey you.” 

You take a few hesitant steps towards him, before squatting down next to him. He lifts his hand to run his fingers through your hair, “God, you look amazing.” 

“I had a baby a week ago, I’ve gotten no sleep, and I’ve been living in this freaking hospital. Don’t you ever do this to me again Mike. I mean it, I can’t lose you, do you hear me?” 

He wipes the tears from your face, “Kiss me honey.” 

You oblige him, and when you pull back he asks, “How’s our boy?” 

“He’s amazing. They say he can leave the NICU tomorrow and . . . and you looked!” 

He smiles, “Like two days after we got the results. That means you win middle name rights.” 

Zola leans forward, “So we can finally stop calling him baby boy, and start calling him . . .?” 

You smile, “Aaron Richard Dodds.” 

Zola smiles, “After grandpa?” 

“Yeah. After grandpa.” 

Meredith Gray looks at the picture her oldest daughter just sent her. You’re back in the apartment, in the bedroom, with Mike. You’re cuddled into his side while Aaron lays on his father’s chest. She needs to get it framed. 

“They made a pretty baby, love.” 

She looks back at her husband, “She’s our daughter, of course she made a pretty baby. Mike just made it even better.” 

Bailey leans over her shoulder to look, “He is a pretty man, isn’t he?” 

Meredith laughs, and Cormac rolls his eyes. A trip for the entire family to fly out and meet Aaron and Mike is already in the works. She can’t wait to hold her grandbaby again. She waits until Bailey leaves the room before she turns to Cormac, “I’m so relieved, she didn’t have to go through. . . what we went through.”

“Same love.” There’s another moment of silence before he asks, “You ever think about moving out that way? Liam is at a hospital in Chicago now, and Austin is at one in Connecticut, and Zola . . . well we know she’s going out there.”

She shrugs, “Maybe. I want to see what Bailey and Ellis decide. Bailey has his boards coming up and Ellis is only a year or so away from them herself.” 

“But maybe . . .maybe it’s time for a change.” 

He pulls her to him and kisses her gently, “Just say the word, and I’ll follow you to the ends of the world Doctor Grey.”   

[noellawrites]

Helpless - Yandere!Mike Dodds x reader

summary: Mike shows you the new life he’s planned for you and you’re too afraid to argue.

warnings: yandere behavior, reader is held captive-ish, talk of children, manipulation

You’d just heard Mike’s knock on your door, so you looked in the mirror one final time before grabbing your purse and running to open the door.

“Hey, baby,” Mike said, leaning down to kiss you, “you look beautiful!”

“Thank you,” you grinned as he handed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers wrapped in paper.

Before you had a chance to put the flowers in a vase, Mike gently tugged on your arm and pulled you outside.

You shut and locked your door hesitantly, clutching the flowers closer to your body.

Mike, ever the gentleman, opened and shut his car door for you. The warm leather engulfed you as you held the flowers and your purse.

Once you sat down, Mike put his large hand on your thigh protectively. He was large, muscular and powerful. He was smarter than you and you always trusted him to point out your mistakes. You would be nothing without him, he always reminded you.

All of a sudden, you noticed Mike was driving down a dark road, the opposite way of the restaurant he had invited you to.

“W-where are we going?” you asked, looking around cautiously.

“I’m bringing you to our new home, babe! We can finally build our family and you can be the sweet little housewife you’ve always wanted to be,” he grinned, the grip on your thigh getting tighter.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was the one who wanted you to be a housewife, not you. But if Mike thought it was best, you would do it.

You could tell you were now almost outside of the city as Mike parked and dragged you out of the car.

“C’mon babe, I wanna show you,” he grinned, grabbing your arm tightly.

As you entered the doorway, you felt a sadness wash over you. The house was beautiful, but it felt more like what Mike wanted, not you.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, um, I love it,” you said, quietly.

“Let me show you the kid’s rooms!”

As your boyfriend showed you through the house, you felt a growing sense of dread. There were four rooms designated for kids, and one of them was already decorated as a nursery. You weren’t even sure if you could have kids.

“I’m thinking Michael Dodds Junior for a son,” Mike grinned, putting a hand on your stomach.

You felt flustered and could only give him a small smile.

“My father is going to be so proud of me,” he said, looking around at the house, “a beautiful wife, four children, a nice house. It’s everything he wanted for me.”

You stayed quiet, allowing Mike to speak. He explained that if you left the house without him, an alert would immediately be sent to his phone and the local precinct would be called. You were terrified, but even more terrified of what would happen if you talked back.

So you just played the part of the dutiful wife, nodding and smiling at your new husband.

[storiesofsvu]

Dress Up

Mike Dodds x fem!reader Warnings: minor language, all fluff here folks Requested: yes (@hhroadgirl I think this one was you?)

“I cannot believe you convinced me into doing this.” Mike called from the bedroom and you let out a little laugh as you scooped up Alyssa, your one year old out of her high chair in the kitchen.

“It can’t be that bad baby.” You called back, moving to the sink in an attempt to clean Alyssa’s hands, even if it was only going to last two minutes. “Are you almost ready? Mom’s on her way back with Jacob and people are gonna be here in under half an hour.”

“This was a horrible idea.” Was all he said in return.

Your older son was in second grade, and one of his best friends wanted to have a big, all out themed super hero party. He’d been talking about it at school for over a month, inviting literally everyone in his class and the other second grade class. This of course was before he’d discussed things with his parents, who couldn’t host such a big thing, living in a small two bedroom apartment.

After getting married you and Mike had moved out to Brooklyn and had the advantage of a lot of indoor space and an even bigger backyard. You were close with the other parents and usually offered to host things that needed more space. There were some decorations inside, but the big splash of super hero world and games had been set up in the yard already. Then the other road block came when the party company they’d been using called last minute saying the performer that was supposed to be coming was sick, and the only other option at such a late time was a princess, which obviously didn’t fit the theme.

“You’re only saying that cause you look normal.” Mike huffed in disagreement as he stepped into the open living room revealing himself in the Superman costume and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“I’ve never seen anyone look so cute and so ridiculous at the same time.” You teased with a smirk and Mike rolled his eyes. Alyssa squealed happily in your arms and that pulled another giggle from you, “see? Lyssa likes it.” She babbled on, reaching out for Mike and you passed her over, making sure he had a towel over his shoulder to prevent any drool from getting on the costume.

“Great, so the one year old likes it.”

“Which means the seven year olds will too.” You twirled the loose lock of hair sitting at the side of his forehead before your hands smoothed over his shoulders, “it’s not as bad as you think baby. Shows off your muscles really well.” Smirking, you moved back into the kitchen counter to finish icing the cupcakes you’d made. Mike placed Alyssa back in her high chair before wrapping around your back.

“You like it so much we could keep it.” He smirked, pressing a soft kiss into your neck and you laughed.

“Mikey! Not like that.” You swatted as his arm, “besides, you know I’m more of a Captain America girl.”

“You only like him ‘cause of Chris Evans and we both know it.” He teased back, dropping a kiss to the top of your head as his arms slipped off you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Not as much as I like you.” You smiled back as you finished up the cupcakes, popping the mini spatula into your mouth to lick off the leftover icing. Mike smirked as he looked back at you,

“You’ve got a little something…” he gestured to the corner of his mouth, gleam in his eye. Before you could even think of wiping it off he grabbed you in his arms, hoisting you off the ground.

“Mikey!” You yelped, Alyssa joining in with a happy squeal from across the room.

“How mad would you be if I kissed you right now?” Mike asked and you laughed.

“I’d never turn down kisses from you.” You leant in, though he landed the first one on the corner of your lips, successfully catching the icing.

“Mmm.” He hummed, “almost as sweet as you.” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“You are a dork Mike Dodds.”

“Yeah but I’m your dork.” He replied, kissing you softly, his hand cupping your cheek tenderly.

“Correction, you, are my Superman.” You smirked and he scoffed out a laugh, pulling you in for another gentle kiss, his arms wrapping around you once more.

@witches-unruly-heart @ineedafinghug @billiedeannovak @stardust-galaxies @hhroadgirl @randomthingssss @qvid-pro-qvo @hurricanejjareau @thatesqcrush @skittle479 @altsvu @lawandorderimagines @whimsicallymad @fandom-princess-forevermore @classylady1234 @averyhotchner @mysticfalls01 @teamsladsandgents @laurenhope13 @redlipstickandplaid @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @mrsrafaelbarba @Ghd76 @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @justanoffalygirl @rafivadafreddy @australiancarisi @wandas-wife @Prettypsychoinpink

[bullet-prooflove]

Mike Dodds - NSFW Alphabet

Aftercare

Mike likes to stay in the moment during the aftermath of love making. You can feel his smile against your skin, his fingers threading through your hair drawing you back to his mouth. You stay locked together for the longest time, hands smoothing over each other’s sensitive skin as you share soft, lazy kisses.

Body part

Mike’s favourite body part on himself is his arms. He spends a lot of time in the boxing gym and he has the physique and the skill set to prove it. He’s proud of his accomplishments and enjoys the way it shows on his body. He loves the way you run your fingers over the tattoo on his bicep when you’re in bed together.

He adores your mouth. The way you smile, the way you bite your lower lip when your concentrating and of course, all the other naughty things you do with it. He loved seeing your lips wrapped around him, his fingers tangled in your hair as you tease him mercilessly with your tongue.

Cum

Mike loves using his mouth to make you cum. He loves licking up your cum after making you climax, he loves the noises you make as he uses his tongue on your already sensitive clit. He loves the taste of you on his lips as he grabs your ass, drawing you back to his mouth before he starts all over again.

Dirty Secret

Mike loves it when you take control. He has spent so much time being in charge and telling other people what to do, that it can be hard to strip away the shackles of responsibility. You get that and in your personal lives you help to relieve the pressure and stress with the use of things like cuffs, blindfolds and a riding crop.

Experience

Mike has been with several other woman over the course of his life, most of his most recent conquests before you had been casual. He simply didn’t want to make the time for a relationship in his life, however things changed when he met you.

Favourite Position

Mike loves the intimacy of face to face positions. His favourite is where you sit on his knees, thighs either side of his. He loves the feel of your chest against his as he looks into your eyes, the two of you rocking together.

Goofy

Mike can be goofy as hell, in fact that was one of the reasons you fell in love with him. After a few tough shifts the two of you had ended up in the same bar and the impregnatable Sergeant had finally let his walls down. It was the first time you had seen something other than the uptight persona he usually portrayed.

These days the two of you spent most of your personal time laughing.

Hair

Mike likes to keep things neat and tidy down there.

Intimacy

Mike craves intimacy. All his life he has been at the service of other people and he needs to feel that there is more for him. You ensure them that there is with every single touch you bestow upon him.

In work its nothing more than a comforting squeeze of the shoulder or a light brush of his fingertips. At home it’s so much more, you cradle his face between your hands, press your lips to the corner of his mouth, you hold onto him as if your life depends on it.

Jack Off

There are times when the two of you are apart for weeks due to shift patterns, conferences or undercover assignments. Mike loves to hear your voice on the phone. When you are able to slip away and call him, he jerks off slowly as you tell him exactly what you wish the two of you were doing.

Kink

Bondage. Mike loves being tied up and blindfolded, he loves the sensation of having his control stripped away from him piece by piece. He also likes it when you use a riding crop to touch and tease him.

Location

The shower. Mike loves caressing your entire body with his hands, he likes to tease you underneath the soapy hot water until you’re begging him to fuck you.

Motivation

When it comes to you Mike is motivated purely by his emotions. He has never felt as fiercely about someone before and everything he does is to make sure you know how much he cares.

NO

Pegging. Mike is open to a lot of things, but pegging isn’t something that turns him on.

Oral

He loves being on his knees in front of you, fisting your panties so they’re taunt against you before his tongue lavishes your clit through the material. He gets off on you sitting on his face, grinding down onto his tongue as his firm hands hold you in place.

Pace

Mike likes to take his time with you and in turn enjoys it when you take your time with him.

Quickie

Sometimes your schedules can be hectic so snatching a quick few minutes with you will have to do. However, Mike pours as much of his heart and soul as possible into each and every one of these encounters.

Risks

Mike isn’t really a risk taker when it comes to sex. He’s willing to try new things but he’s adverse to anything that will damage your reputations if the two of you get caught such as having sex in public.

Stamina

Mike has the determination and the stamina to go on for as long as you need. Bringing you pleasure is what gets him off.

Toys

Mike is open to toys so long as you both get something out of it. He loves using a wand or a vibe on your clit, edging you until you’re desperate for him. He’s not a fan of dildos, he knows you prefer the real deal. Restraints, blindfolds and a riding crop in your hands are his toys of preference.

Unfair

Mike is all about fairness, your relationship is a complete partnership.

Volume

Mike is vocal during sex but not loud. He likes to ask what you want, to tell you what he’s planning to do to you and to tell you exactly what you’re doing to him.

Wild Card (How has he changed in bed?)

Mike has never told anyone about his more submissive tendencies, he has never trusted anyone enough to explore those desires until he met you. In the beginning he was always the more dominant one in bed, now it’s more of a partnership. You both give as much as you take.

X-Ray (What’s going on in those pants?)

Mike has girth, he’s a thicker than average and just a tiny bit smaller but trust me you love the girth.

Yearning

When you’re away from home, Mike yearns for you more than anything. He sends you filthy texts about all the things the two of you would be doing when you make it home.

Zzz

Mike doesn’t sleep well when you’re not in the bed. He tosses and turns, burying his face in your pillow. When you are in bed together, he’s the one that sleeps with his back to the door, his body curled around you, holding you close and breathing you in.

[locke-writes]

Stillness of the Moment

Author: locke-writes

Title: Stillness of the Moment

Sequel to Imagine Mike Dodds coming to speak with you after a particularly difficult case in which you meet with Mike frequently during the case and the two of you begin to reconcile

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,101

Tag List: @scarletsoldierrr​ / @opalsandlacemain​ / @teamsladsandgents​ / @aryn-the-bearheart​ / @andreasworlsboring101​ / ask to be added

Had it not been a 24hr diner the two of you would have sat at the booth all night long just talking. Mike found that Liv was right, not that he ever actually doubted her. Opening up about everything and not sparing the details as he often did helped him come to process what he was working through. The case was far from over and he knew worse days were most likely ahead but at least for now he knew he could end up in bed asleep rather than staring at the ceiling replaying every aspect of the case so far.

Neither one of you knew when conversation drifted from the case and into your lives. Mike's father, your job, him debating adopting a dog, little details of your lives since one another came forth and never seemed to stop. Both of you found it easy to care for one another, to fall into an old pattern, an old routine.

Time ticked on as time does, forcing the two of you to part. Rather than shut everything off completely you told Mike that he could call you any time during the case if he needed to talk. He promised he'd take you up on that offer. He didn't know if he should call though, and you didn't know if he would. At one point in time the two of you had been in love, did that change the nature of how you interacted now? The past was indicative of the present or at least this was how Mike thought, the nature of the end of your relationship would influence the nature of your responses to any call that came through from him.

He wanted to refuse to call but needed another voice, needed someone outside the realm of the case to speak with and to help digest the horrors of the day.

Thus it began. At first it was once a week, conversations that could last hours beginning with the case and ending with whatever topic you'd found yourself in. Mike found it a comfort to be able to speak freely with no judgement, to have you listening, helping him decompress from the horrors of the case. Soon enough the conversations began to occur each night and no longer were about the case alone. Some nights that was what was spoken of but most nights became conversations about the latest movies or a new book Mike had read.

Old habits seemed really and truly to die hard. The night in the diner you'd told Mike that he could call you, any time he needed he could call you. While the case was going on there was an excuse for picking up, an excuse for forgetting the reason that your relationship ended. Easier to pretend that everything was normal, that there wasn't a history between the two of you than it was to admit what was occurring between the two of you.

You began to think of what was going to happen when the case finished. That was the reason he had called you in the beginning, what would happen when all was said and done?

The calls came in night after night and they changed in nature. Soon enough you found yourself dreading when the case would end as you knew that would be the end of any reconciliation with Mike. Once connected you had drifted apart and history was set to repeat itself. You wondered night after night hearing him through the phone, had you really fallen back in love with him?

Had the separation been necessary in the first place? At the time you felt distant from him, you felt as though you had never known him yet now there was something between you, some understanding of one another. He was more open with you than he had been in the entirety of your relationship which made you wonder if the difficulties of the job had allowed him to reevaluate the nature of his relationships with other people.

While it seemed to forward to ask him if he felt the same it was all you could come to think about as conversations drifted more toward colloquial than purely occupational.

Mike knew the case was coming to a close, it was all he managed to focus on. He knew that there was a trial, he knew that he was set to testify, he knew that of course this meant the end of everything. He knew that at the end of the case there came no reason for him to call you. There could be excuses made, there could be reasons later to call. Other cases, other horrors, yet he didn't want to be dependent on you, didn't want to keep talking to you when there was an underlying pull.

There was a pull, there was a connection that remained. You had laid out all the reasons for the separation, the break up, and he knew them. He'd analyzed each point, wanted to work on the points, and he had. He hoped that the change he'd put forth within himself was something which could bring the two of you back together.

He knew he had to let you know the case was done and he hated doing it over the phone, hated telling you in a way that felt so impersonal. He knew he had to let you know the case was done but he was afraid for what that might mean, for what that would lead to. Another separation or starting over again as friends?

There was risk in asking again to meet you at the diner. This was where everything had begun and where everything would end once more. There was risk in your acceptance of the meeting place, yet there was promise of reward.

Mike was already sitting in a booth when you arrived. Silence sat between the two of you for a moment before he began to speak what he had rehearsed. He wanted it to sound like a parting but never a breakup, he wanted it to be some form of closure and yet he knew it was the last thing that he wanted. You knew now that it was the last thing that you wanted as well. You didn't want to stop him from speaking but you didn't want this to be the end.

You took his hand in yours, running your thumb over his palm. This had been a gesture of calm when the two of you were together, you meant it now as an act of reconciliation. You only hoped that Mike understood.

[imaginingyourfandom]

“You said what?” You had not expected Mike to stand up to his father but you couldn’t have been more grateful. You loved him more than anything and the last thing you wanted was to lose him because of his father.

Mike nodded, “I love you. Nothing he says is going to change that. I want to be with you, I want to have a life with you, he cannot change that or do anything to interfere with it.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Requested By Anonymous

[australiancarisi]

Hello!! How are you? I'd like you to write a prompt about Mike with the number 33 , thank you

33. “I had a bad dream again.”

You shot up quickly.

A dream.

It was just a dream. A fucking horrible dream but still just a dream. You rubbed your hands over your face and took a deep breath. Mike snored lightly beside you. Normally his snoring annoyed you but right now it was a comfort.  He was there. He was fine, sleeping soundly without a care in the world. You looked over at the clock on the bedside table.

4:36.

You knew you probably wouldn’t fall asleep. The alarm was set to go off at 6 anyway, you thought to yourself. You slowly pushed the blanket off your body and swung your legs to the side of the bed. You were about to stand up when you felt Mike grab your hand.

“Where do you think you're going?” He mumbled, his eyes still shut

“Can’t sleep, didn’t want to wake you. I was just gonna go watch some tv in the lounge” you whispered

“What’s wrong?” Mike sat up and slowly moved closer to you

“Nothing I just can’t sleep” you shrugged

“Y/n come on, you’d sleep all day if I let you”

“…I had a bad dream again”

“The dream?” Mike asked softly running the tips of his fingers lightly up your arm. You nodded, feeling tears well in your eyes. You couldn’t help it. The thought of losing Mike… you couldn’t bear it. “It’s okay Princess, I’m here, I’m safe, I’m with you”

I’m here, I’m safe, I’m with you

7 simple words that hold so much weight. You hand traced the scar where he had been shot by Munson. You would never forget being outside the house and hearing the gun go off - feeling your blood run cold because you just knew it was bad.

Sitting at the hospital by his side you fiddled with your engagement ring. It had been over a year since Mike proposed to you but no planning had been done, you had both been so busy and now there was a chance it’ll never happen.

When Mike woke up it was like a never-ending party. The squad sat in his room while friends, other police officers and higher-ups made their way in and out. When the two of you were finally alone he said those 7 simple words

“I’m here, I’m safe, I’m with you” Mike mumbled, he was tired

“What?”

“I said I’m here, I’m safe, I’m with you” Mike repeated “You haven’t let my hand go since I woke up, its okay Princess, it’s all okay”

“You should go back to sleep, no need for Liv to have two tired officers”

“Well I can’t sleep without you so” he kissed your shoulder

“You are so full of shit” you giggled pushing him off you. Mike laughed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down into him.

“….If you can’t sleep we could have sex?” Mike grinned