#Greg Gerwitz imagine

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz (ft platonic!Jay Halstead): Not The Pizza Guy 

You swung the door open money in hand and paused at the man in front of you. “You're not the pizza guy.” He was leaning on the doorframe, his jacket damp from the night rain. His face, which had been furrowed in worry, was now caught between shock and disbelief. Your eyes fall to the badge clipped on his hip. You had thought that knock was a little loud and on the cop side. A smile comes to your lips, “You must be Jay,” 

“Yeah, I must be.” He agreed. You nodded at him and gestured into the apartment.  

“Did you want to come in? Greg is just in the shower.” It is strange for Jay to hear Mouse’s legal name. It’s even stranger to see you standing in front of him, all smiles, dressed in one of Mouse’s Star Wars sweatshirts and little else. You don’t wait for him to answer as you head back in. Jay hesitated before following you in and closing the door behind him. The living room was empty. Jay barely sees your ponytail rounding the corner as you call out Mouse’s name.  

Jay feels out of sorts. He had come over because he had been worried about his friend. It seemed like Mouse was falling back into old bad habits. He was blowing off team outings, constantly distracted by his phone, and had seemingly been in his own world. Jay's first and only thought had been that his friend was struggling with PTSD. He had feared that Mouse may have been slipping back into his former drug use. He had come intent on doing an intervention if need be. He had been planning what he would say, the options he had found, and even prepared to move Mouse in with him if he needed the extra support.  

Now he wasn’t sure how to respond. 

Mouse rounds the corner in sweats, toweling off his hair. He had clearly been alerted to Jay’s arrival. He had the grace to look guilty. “Hey buddy,” You walked back in now sporting a pair of black leggings under Mouse’s hoodie. There is a moment of quiet before another knock sounds at the door again. 

“Now that’s got to be the pizza.” You turn on your heel walking between the boys to head for the door.  

“Baby, for the sake of my peace of mind, please check who it is before you open the door this time. This is Chicago, not your small town.” You look back at your boyfriend smiling contritely. 

“Yeah, right, sorry.” They watched you head to the door. There is a brief pause and then, “You're not a murderer, right? You’re just the pizza guy?” Mouse rubs his hands over his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.  

“Her lack of self-preservation is going to take years off my life.”  

Before Jay can ask Mouse anything, you come back into the room with the pizza and a stack of paper plates. You give one to Mouse and then offer another to Jay. Soon you are all sitting in the living room eating pizza and the ball game is on the TV. Jay can’t focus on it and instead spends his time analyzing you and his old war buddy. Jay watches as Mouse throws his arm across the back of the couch and you lean into his side. You place a napkin on his leg, and he smiles down at you. There is a lightness in his friend, a warmth, a happiness that Jay hasn’t seen in a long time. He feels ridiculous for being so off base with how his friend was doing. 

And so fucking grateful he was wrong. 

Jay lingered after everyone had finished the food. You offer to make a pot of coffee and the boys accept. Mouse watches as you disappear into the kitchen. “She seems like a nice girl.” Mouse’s lips form an unconscious smile. 

“She is.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell me man? I was worried about you.” Mouse rubs the back of his neck scratching gently. He lifts his eyes from where they had been trained on the floor. 

“I know, I’m sorry. It was selfish but I just wanted to keep her to myself for a while. She’s so innocent. Untouched by the dark side of humanity.” Jay can see the struggle in Mouse’s eyes. The self-doubt and question of if he was worthy of something good.

Someone good.

Jay had seen it many times looking back at him in the mirror. “Her parents are still together, from a small town- never even locked her front door before she moved to Chicago- can you believe that? And she just-” Mouse threw his hands up as if he was trying to get a grasp on his own good fortune, “She walked into a cafe and right into my life. Just like that. Just like that man. I can’t even believe it. She's not anything like what I would have picked for myself.” Mouse chuckles, “She is so technologically challenged, it’s insane. I thought you guys at the precinct were bad, but it is nothing compared to her. And I can’t help but find it strangely adorable.” 

Jay put a hand on Mouse’s shoulder, squeezing it. “I’m happy for you buddy, really, I am. You deserve it. But you can’t hide her away forever. And everybody is going to want to meet her.” 

“I know.”

You come in holding a cup of coffee in each hand and creamer, and sugar tucked under your arm. You offer the cups to both men. “I didn’t know how you took your coffee.” You say in explanation and Jay looks amused as he takes the sugar from your arm and pours some into his cup. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Mouse takes a drink of his already doctored-up coffee. He meets eyes with Jay before taking a deep breath. “Hey, the intelligence team is getting together at Molly’s tomorrow night...Do you want to go? Meet everyone.” You smile brightly pressing a kiss to Mouse's cheek. 

“I’d love to meet your family.”              

[witchygagirlwrites]

Them Losing You

First Christmas

[dandelionfairyyy]

Messy G. G.

Summary: just two lost souls finally finding peace in each others company

Pairing: Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz x fem!reader

Wordcount: 7,193 (I’m sorry 😭)

Triggerwaning: 16+ because of slight mention of: blood, torture, GSWs, panic attacks, use of drugs, underweight, mental struggle, trauma and death as well as explicit described sexual acts and possible incorrect description of certain things/feelings and possible writing mistakes

A/N: this piece turned out longer than I expected but I hope you still like it. And as a disclaimer or something: just to make it clear, I didn’t experienced any of this so I apologize for incorrect descriptions.

Red-stained water flows from your hands as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your face bears more stains and you have to close your eyes for a moment and breathe deeply to push back the memory as you continue to wash the red from your skin.

It's like dejà vu. Every time you clean up after painting, you feel transported back to the night three months ago.

There was red everywhere, as if one of your colours had tipped over, but your Ma had been clear when she had forbidden you to paint in the living room. And you had kept to it.

Your gaze wandered through the room of chaos and your breath was taken away when you spotted someone.

"Dad!"

You go down on your knees in front of him, pressing your hands on the gunshot wound in his chest from which blood was still running. Tears now ran down your cheeks as you remembered your mum and siblings.

"Where's Ma? And Olivia? And Wesley? Dad!"

Your dad made a strained groan and mumbled something. You moved your ear closer to his mouth and heard, "They took her... They wanted... Documents... Ma doesn't know anything about it... Bank... 273B..." You couldn't make sense of it, to you it all sounded like the confused ramblings of a dying man, but soon you realised that he was actually serious.

Agitated, you wash the red colour and salty tears from your cheeks. Your hands clench around the ceramics of your sink in an attempt to push back the panic attack.

They cannot hurt you. They cannot hurt you.

They know nothing about you...

With shaky hands, you open the small medicine compartment next to the mirror.

Shit!

You had smoked the last one the day before yesterday... frustrated, you slam the door again and grab your fanny pack with your money before heading to your new friend Johnny. The shivering slowly subsides. The cold winter air seems to help.

"Hey Sugar," he greets you with his typical flirty smirk.

"Quit it. I'm not in the mood. I need another five...'

Johnny looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "When we met you didn't want to know anything about the drugs and now you're one of my most loyal customers? What the hell happened to you?"

"Let's not talk about it," you suggest and take a few dollar notes out of your pocket.

Johnny presses the little bag into your hand and takes the money from you. "Hey, if you ever need something stronger, let me know."

"Don't give me any ideas."

Johnny playfully raises his hands defensively. "Just an offer." He looks at you again with concern. You've known each other for a few years now, travelled in the same circles and he's taken you to his heart. But you've only really had closer contact since the incident. That's why he was worried about you now. You hadn't told him what happened, you'd just asked him three months ago for something to quiet the mind and let you sleep. "Sugar, there's a party at one of my boys' on Friday night. Do you want to come?"

"I'll think about it." With those words, you turn around and make your way back to your little flat. Your flat... It belonged to your parents. It was bought as an investment at the time. Along with two others. For you and your siblings, should you want to move out. Now you have three flats and a house, as well as a flourishing family business worth millions, and you don't know what to do with it. And that's just what you know.

When you check the letterbox, there is another letter from your family's lawyer. You know what it says. That you should accept or reject the inheritance listed. That you have to take care of so many things you never wanted to worry about...

Closing the flat door with one foot, you make your way to the couch.

It doesn't take long and you have your "medicine" in stock again and you reach for the lighter on the small table.

The herbal taste spreads through your mouth after the first hit. After the third, you finally start to feel the marijuana. The comforting blanket wraps around your thoughts and they finally quiet down. The traumatic images from three months ago blur into a simple mist in your mind and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Knowing that hunger will soon set in, you make your way to the kitchen with the joint between your lips and take a look in the fridge.

Margarita, your parents' housekeeper, who is now looking after you, has put something in the fridge for you. Reading the little message lying next to it, you start to heat it up in the pan.

Because I know you won't cook anything anyway, I took the liberty of preparing something for you. You really should eat more, child.

You smirk.

Margarita has been working for your family for more than twenty years, taking care of the household and you and your siblings as children. Now there is only you left for her to take care of. You take another drag and these thoughts also fall completely silent.

Instead, you focus on the food.

Margarita's food was always incredible, but with the effect of the marijuana it is even better. Smiling contentedly, you eat in complete silence before fatigue sets in soon after.

Yawning, you plod barefoot from the kitchen back to the couch.

Next to the pillow lies the little sheep that you have had as a cuddly toy since birth. If someone asked you, you would deny that you still sleep with a cuddly toy, but since what happened three months ago, the little sheep has given you comfort when no one else could.

You lovingly hug the fluffy thing to you and finally close your eyes to fall asleep shortly afterwards.

Your flat actually consists of three rooms. A bedroom, a study and a living room.

But two of the three rooms are empty. The walls are bare and there is not a single piece of furniture in them. Only in the living room is a couch where you sleep and a table next to it. Otherwise, the boxes that Margarita packed for you from the house are standing around. You haven't even opened most of them. Everything in them reminds you of something that is no longer there.

Friday morning you finally stand in front of the mirror and look at yourself. You have lost a lot of weight after the incident, but thanks to Margarita, who forced you to eat more in the beginning, your clothes start to fit again.

You no longer wear your belts in the last hole, your T-shirts no longer hang down like sacks. Your hair looks fuller and healthier again.

Maybe you should make a change?

After a moment's thought, you call Margarita. And only thirty minutes later she is standing in front of your flat with hair dye.

"Are you sure, dear?" she asks in her Russian accent for the third time and lowers the scissors again. "Your beautiful hair..." When you were little, she made you pigtails every morning. Sometimes one, sometimes two. Sometimes braided, sometimes not. And every day she admired your full and soft hair.

By now you can do most of the braids on your own. But in the last few months you have neglected yourself. This is also noticeable in your hair.

"Yes, Margarita. I'm sure of it. And don't worry. It will grow back anyway..." you reply with a grin and watch as she takes a strand of your hair, applies the scissors and squints. You hear the sound of the scissors cutting through your hair. There is no turning back now.

Three hours later, you're standing in front of the mirror again and looking at your new hairstyle.

The dark brown has turned into a light blonde and your hair is much shorter. Before it almost reached your bottom, now it doesn't even reach your shoulder. The end just hovers over it. You didn't know how heavy hair can actually be.

"Wow...", you say and run your fingers through your new hair. You part your hair in the middle, make a side parting, and finally bites your lower lip with an admiring smile.

"You look great, love," she confirms to you and as you turn to thank her, she sees for the first time the glow in your eyes again for three months.

She hopes so much that you will slowly get back on your feet. You are like a daughter to her. She has watched you grow up and looked after you when your parents were busy again. So it hurts her heart every time to see you the way you are. You are lost. Lost in a world where you don't belong, where you never wanted to belong.

How she would love to take this burden off your shoulders, but she could not. All she can do is stand by your side and help when it is needed. But first you have to find your footing again.

After another look in the mirror, you decide to go to that party Johnny invited you to. While Margarita tidies up the flat again, you carelessly go through the boxes of expensive clothes.

Finally, you're back in front of the mirror in a pair of ripped jeans and a crop top. You look at yourself with a smile.

"You look like an angel," Margarita says as she leans against the doorframe, watching you.

You would not describe yourself as an angel, but as beautiful.

It has been a long time since you felt yourself to be beautiful. You see in the eyes of your old friend and housekeeper the hope that you wanted to feel so much. You no longer want to be this wreck, this shadow of yourself. But you are now in this new world where you never wanted to belong. And you don't know how to find your footing in it.

Shaking your head, you push the thoughts aside and thank Margarita again with a kiss on the cheek. You still ask her for one last favour, because you have to get to the party somehow.

"Sugar, what a surprise. I didn't expect to see you." "Well, if you want, I can leave again..." you joke.

Johnny smiles and grabs your hand to pull you into the house and his arms. "You look hot by the way", he whispers in your ear and places a kiss on your temple.

"Whatever," you dismiss the compliment with a little laugh and let yourself join the group of other partygoers.

"Hey guys, this is Y/N," Johnny introduces you and drops onto one of the couches. He pulls you with him onto his lap.

"You wish, Johnny. Keep your hands off. I am your customer, not your girlfriend, Sugar." You emphasise the pet name, which he always uses for you, especially.

"Worth a try, isn't it?"

You let your gaze wander around the room. Apart from Johnny, there are four other men sitting in the room. spread out the couches. "You call this a party? Or is this just the warm-up round?" you finally ask.

"I didn't know if you'd really come and how much of a party animal you are." Had he really done that just for you?

"Since when do you care how I am?" you ask him, poking him in the side.

"Some people I just like to take care of.

You look at him with raised eyebrows and don't respond further to his comment. Instead you say, "You didn't answer my question?"

"Hey Timothy, send out a message that there's a party here at short notice," Johnny gives to one of the other guests.

"You got it, boss."

"You'll have your party in an hour," Johnny promises and you smile. He leans forward a little and finally presses his lips to yours. You allow it for a few seconds before you release and place a finger on his lips, shaking your head.

"Nice try." You turn away from him and disappear into the bathroom.

A few deep breaths, a little water over your forearms and you're all better.

When you come back, you don't sit down next to Johnny again, but on the sofa opposite him. You need some space between you and him.

You like Johnny, he's a good friend, you can count on him, but he wants something from you. He makes no secret of it, but he doesn't understand that you don't want anything from him.

Now you are sitting next to a lanky young man, about your age, maybe a little older. With your back against the armrest, you casually put your legs diagonally across his, eliciting an overwhelmed "oh... okay" from him before you say, "Johnny didn't introduce us. I'm Y/N." You reach out your hand to him.

He takes it and introduces himself as "Mouse". You look at him in amazement. "Mouse?"

"Actually it's Greg, Mouse is a ridiculous nickname, but I've come to terms with it. Nice to meet you, Y/N."

"Nice to meet you too."

As Johnny promised, less than an hour later there was a party going on in the house. Music booms muffled from the big room into the smaller one where you are still sitting on the couch with Mouse. He's thawed out enough by now that he had his hands on your thighs to keep your legs from sliding down.

You feel Johnny's jealous gaze on you, but try to ignore it as much as possible.

"Hey Mouse. Are you also part of Johnny's business?" you finally ask curiously. To be honest, he doesn't really look like a dealer, more like a customer.

"I would rather say business partner.”

You look at him curiously.

"He introduces me to people who I then work for. I'm a computer crack."

"Oh. That's cool. I don't have anything to do with it. I'm totally incompetent at it. My talents lie elsewhere."

"It's not that hard. What do you do?"

"Y/N has divine hands...", Johnny comments and one of the men laughs quietly in the background.

"You bet," you hear and roll your eyes. Thanks to a former girlfriend, you now have that reputation gone...

"So I'm an artist," you clarify. "Johnny also introduces me to people I work for. I've painted one or two forgeries of famous works of art. There's even one hanging in the museum here in Chicago." You wink at him with a proud grin. "But most of the works are my own."

"Are you selling them?"

"Some. I was organising an exhibition where I could sell the works. Sort of a silent auction." You shrug your shoulders as if to dismiss the subject.

"What happened to that?"

"Something's come up," you dodge the question and instead reach for his beer bottle to take a sip of it.

As soon as the tingling liquid hits your taste buds, you contort your face.

"Yuck. How can you drink that. That's super disgusting."

Mouse laughs and takes the bottle from you again to drink a sip from it himself.

For the rest of the evening you talk about different things. It feels easy with him, like you can finally be you again. As if you had found an anchor to swim back to the surface. But you push back the budding sense of security. People come and go all the time. You've had to learn that the hard way. And they always want something from you.

"Hey, what's with the sad face all of a sudden?" asks Mouse in a soft voice, lifting your head with his index finger under your chin until you look at him. You have the feeling that he is really interested in your answer. It has been a long time since a person was really interested in you. So far, they've all wanted something from you in return. To buy something, to borrow money, to introduce someone to them, to sleep with them. But Mouse seems to be interested in you and you alone.

Tears come to your eyes and you have to take a deep breath. You put your head back and have to blink a few times until you can control yourself again.

"Do you know when the bad thoughts get too loud? And you don't know where you are, what's real and what's imaginary? What exactly is your mind playing you now and what is really there?"

"That pretty much sums up what I went through some time ago."

The tears were back and burning in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks.

"Have you figured out how to get rid of it?"

He shakes his head. "Not really. But it gets easier with time, you learn to live with it. I can promise you that." You nod and look at him with a sad smile.

"God. I'm so pathetic.

"Hey, don't say that. You're amazing. From what I've heard of you so far." With more affectionate words he tries to make you feel better and the only appropriate response that comes to your mind is to kiss him.

You lean forward and simply place your lips on his, silencing him.

You sense that he is surprised and overwhelmed by your reaction, which is why you withdraw again.

"I’m sorry," you say apologetically and pinch your lips together a little. Actually, you're not sorry, it felt too good.

"Don't be," he replies now, putting down his beer bottle and pulling you closer again.

His hands on your cheeks, he puts his lips on yours again and begins to kiss you.

You change position a little until you are sitting astride his lap. His hands now on your back and in your hair, your arms around his neck, your hands also running through his hair, you kiss each other deeply.

You dare to let go. You feel that it's okay, that it's the right thing to do, you just let go and the tears trickle down your cheeks while Mouse holds you, is your anchor to reality, so that you don't get lost in the whirlpool. The images you constantly see in front of you just pass by this time, have no effect on you, because Mouse's is stronger. You feel light, safe and secure in his arms, even though you hardly know him.

Your kiss becomes more intimate, more demanding and you receive his tongue with yours. Then your head is empty.

There is nothing more. Just you and this stranger who has this incredible effect on you.

Finally, you break away breathlessly and just look into each other's eyes. You notice that he can't hold eye contact for long, but that's okay. You know... you have experienced first-hand the effects trauma can have. Your fingers begin to trace his contours.

He makes you feel like you've never felt before. You don't have to say a word. It is as if your looks communicate everything.

Gently he wipes your tears from your cheeks. You nod slightly at his questioning look. Yes, you feel much better now.

"Thank you," you form with your lips. A small smirk settles on his and you lean forward again to kiss him once more. This time it's different. You no longer seek a hold on him, this time it's a "thank you".

Your kiss is gentle, careful and sensual.

If someone had told you this morning what was happening, you would have said that they were nuts. You still can't quite understand how this one person can have such power over you. That this one person can simply silence your thoughts like that.

Time passed, you're sitting next to Mouse again. Your legs crossed his as Johnny brought you not only a cup of Coke but also a joint. You throw him a kissing hand.

After lighting the cigarette, you hold it out to Mouse, offering it to him. He takes a drag while you hold the joint before you take one too.

You blow out the smoke upwards with relish.

A few puffs later, you lean forward again a little until your lips are almost touching and you inhale his smoke before exhaling it back upwards.

"Hey Y/N...", you hear someone's voice before the owner enters the room, just as you inhale Mouse's smoke one more time. "..Johnny said you were here... And apparently you're busy."

You make a grumbling noise, detach yourself from Mouse and blow the smoke back upwards. "Just what I need..." you mutter, before turning to face her. Even through the wonderful fog of the Weed, you are pissed off by the presence of this horrible person. Inconspicuously, you squeeze Mouse's hand tightly, again looking for support, before finally letting go and standing up.

"Genevieve..." you reply, looking at her with a fake smile.

"It's good to see you again. Hey. I'm sorry about what happened."

"Please, don't talk about it and say what you want." Your voice is cold and distant.

"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour. I know it was not correct of me."

You laugh in disbelief. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone, Genevieve. That's not something you just shrug off with an 'I'm sorry'."

"I know that. That's why I want to make it up to you. Tell me what to do."

"Would you do what you put me through?" She remains silent and you snort snidely before taking another step back. You need distance between you. "Of course you wouldn't. After all, then your great image would be tarnished. The great benefactor Genevieve..." you scoff, before adding: "You make me sick."

You see her expression stiffen. "And you are a slut! You slept with my boyfriend even though you knew he was MY boyfriend!" There she is, the real Genevieve, as she lives and breathes. You knew she had this side in her, but you never expected to feel it yourself.

Your hands clench into fists and you feel your fingernails digging into your skin. The pain helps you to stay calm as much as possible.

"Excuse me? That was some pretty lie he breathed into your ear. I told him I didn't want anything from him! Do you think he cared? You know what he told me? That you were too innocent, too willing. Too boring. I slapped him and told him not to talk about my best friend like that in front of me. He then tried to rape me! So much for your perfect Richard and the evil evil Y/N!", you rage.

Shocked, she looks at you before regaining her composure. "Liar!" she hisses, then looks at Mouse. "Have fun with that bitch. Make sure she doesn't end up cheating on you with your best friend."

You gasp in indignation and shock at her impudence. Your former best friend turns around and disappears again.

One more time you have to take a deep breath.

"Wow... that was intense," you hear Mouse suddenly standing behind you. You notice how you immediately become calmer as soon as you feel him behind you.

"Welcome to the young high society of Chicago," you murmur and turn to him. "I'm sorry you overheard that."

"Hev. I want you to know that I don't believe a word she says."

You smile sadly. "Then you're the first. Even Johnny thinks I'm the evil whore in the story."

"Well. I think you're just lost and need someone to believe in you again."

"And you're saying that someone is you?"

"Maybe," Mouse replies with a grin.

You have to laugh and gently bite your lower lip, slightly swollen from your kiss, as you look up at him.

"Are you coming?"

"Where?"

"Get some fresh air, go to the other side of the world, or go to a diner and eat something. Just get away from here."

He takes your hand in his again and intertwines his fingers with yours.

"Where are you going?" he just asks.

You feel a tingle in your stomach as he smiles at you and you have to swallow.

You say goodbye to Johnny with a simple wave before leaving the house with Mouse by the hand.

A car on the other side of the road flashes its lights as soon as you are out of the front gate and you roll your eyes, while you mumble, "Margarita…”

Nevertheless, you walk with Mouse towards the black car with the tinted windows.

"Wow... are you super rich or something?" asks Mouse wryly.

"Please don't remind me,” you only reply, as Peter, your family's long-time driver, gets out and holds the door open.

"Miss Y/L/N," he greets you with a nod as you tell Mouse to get in. "Hey Pete," you say back and get into the car as well.

"Where to, Miss Y/L/N?"

"Hannah's Diner," you reply and Peter nods before pulling out of the parking space.

Next to you, you sense that Mouse would like to bombard you with a thousand questions, but he refrains.

You sigh and lean your head against his shoulder.

"I hate it," you admit.

In response, Mouse squeezes your hand.

You never wanted your family's money. Even though you got a lot of pocket money, you never touched it. Since you were 16 and allowed to work, you worked in a diner and earned your few bucks. Everything you bought since then, you always bought with your own money.

Until the incident three months ago, you worked at Hannah's Diner. But since then you have hardly left your flat. Hannah, who has become a friend over time, has been there for you and said that you can take as much time off as you want and when you are ready and willing, you can start working for her again.

Together with Mouse, you sit down at one of the tables and wait for Hannah to come

It was already late, but the diner was open 24/7. "Okay. What do you want?" you ask, "it's on me." Seeing the look on his face, you add, "Do me a favour and let me pay." After another look into your eyes, he nods. "Okay."

You are suddenly absolutely exhausted. The encounter with Genevieve has robbed you of all the strength you had today.

"Y/N. Good to see you again," you are finally greeted by Hannah with a smile. You return it and stand up to be pulled into a hug.

"How are you?" she asks, looking at you with concern.

You shrug your shoulders. "I'm still alive..."

Hannah's smile turns sad and compassionate. "Well, that's a start." She puts a hand on your shoulder as you sit back down across from Mouse. "What can I get you two?"

Once your milkshakes and fries are brought, Mouse begins to tell. "I was in the army, 3rd Battalion 75th Ranger Regiment. I did two tours in Afghanistan. When I came back, my best friend who I met on deployment and I were a total mess. There are things I don't want to think about anymore, there are things that are constantly in my head. You learn to live with it. The images eventually become less deterrent."

"What happened?" you ask cautiously.

"During my last tour... there was a convoy... Jay and I were in the first Humvee and then..." You can see him bobbing his leg restlessly as he tells the story, his fingers drumming on the table. "I thought that was it for me. Jay and I are about the only ones who got out of there alive."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." You are silent for a moment and take a deep sip of your Strawberry milkshake before you decide to tell him about you.

"My family is... was...", you correct yourself, "actually super rich. The company my dad started after he invented something for computers or something that's now in pretty much every mobile device is incredibly huge. I honestly have no idea about the whole… thing" you run your fingers through your hair. It's still unfamiliar that it's now so short and, more importantly, so light. "He produces it himself, sells it himself. At least he did... He was tinkering with something newer, better, when he got mugged." You start to stir your milkshake with the straw, totally captured in your thoughts. "Someone tried to steal his designs. When he didn't hand them over, they shot and kidnapped my Ma and siblings. They blackmailed them to get the designs. But they knew nothing about it. Dad had never said anything about it." Tears burn in your eyes again. "I’ve found them...” Mouse carefully reaches across the table for your hand and brings you back from the memory.

You lift your gaze and meet his bright blue eyes. "Now I've inherited everything and have no idea where to go or what to do," you admit quietly. "The police never found the… offenders”

Mouse said nothing. He didn't have to say anything. Because nothing he could have said would have made you feel better. So you both remained silent for a moment while he still held your hand and gently caressed your skin with his thumb.

"Thank you for telling me," he finally says and you can't help but smile sadly at him.

"Okay. Let's talk about something else. Something nice..", you finally change the subject and force a liberated smile on your lips. "Tell me about your friend you mentioned, Jay. He seems important to you."

Mouse's expression brightens and he begins to smile honestly.

"Jay... we met in the army. Now he's with the CPD. He's managed to land on his feet. I.. well.."

"You can do it too. You just need someone who believes in you and gives you a chance."

"Yes. Maybe..."

"Okay. Crazy idea: we help each other get back on our feet." "And how do you imagine that?" He looks at you with interest.

"I don't know yet. But you can try, can't you?" "Okay. Let's try.”

After you have eaten and paid, you leave the diner again. "Do you want Pete to take you home? Or you can come upstairs. Then Pete can call it a night..”.

"Would be interested to see what an artist's flat looks like."

You snort in amusement. "Yes, don't expect too much. The artist hasn't moved in yet."

You get into the lift.

"Okay. All expectations are at zero. I promise," Mouse replies now and you have to laugh.

It's the first time in three months that you've really had an honest laugh.

"You have a very nice laugh," Mouse now says quietly.

"Thank you. I think that was the first time I laughed since the incident."

"Then I am honoured to be the first to hear it."

Again you giggle at his silliness.

The lift has arrived at the floor with your flat and you pull Mouse behind you down the corridor.

Once in your flat, Mouse looks around a bit. There is not much to see.

"I... haven't gotten around to decorating the flat yet," you now admit a little uncertainly and disappear into the kitchen.

"Since I don't drink beer, I only have wine in the fridge. But you get to decide which wine we head." You list a few varieties and as you look up, you meet Mouse's puzzled gaze, which makes you grin in amusement again.

"Just take any."

With a bottle of lovely white wine and two glasses in your hand, you go back into the living room and flop down on the couch.

"Sit down. I honestly have no idea what it is, Margarita got it for me...", you admit, and hand Mouse a glass with the alcohol.

Instead of sitting down, Mouse looks at the canvases that are standing around. Still lifes, landscapes. Chicago's skyline, portraits.

"That looks incredible. You should definitely exhibit it."

"Sometime, maybe. My parents were organising something when... well…”

Mouse nods in understanding.

"Hey, you want to try painting something?", you ask

"Oh no. I'd rather stick to my computer stuff."

"Come on. I'll help you." You direct him to the small stool that stands in front of your easel. "This is what I'm working on right now."

"Woah, no, I'm not touching that."

"No really. It didn't turn out so well anyway. I'll probably paint it over later."

"What?"

"Yeah, go on. What would you say is missing from this picture?"

You had painted an avenue where people were walking.

"Maybe make flowers out of the greenery? Then it doesn't look quite so gloomy.

"Okay." You stand behind Mouse, prepare the mixing palette and select a brush. "You do the flowers with dabs on the side."

You put the brush in his hand, put yours over it and guide it. Dab, dab, dab.

After a few dabs, you look at it and say with satisfaction: "Here. Now you try it on your own”

When Mouse did it alone, it didn't look as good as when you did it. But it wasn't a complete disaster either, which you consider a victory.

At some point, he taps his finger in the pink colour and taps you on the nose with it.

Outraged and surprised, you look at him before doing the same to him until you are both full of colour and end up laughing on the floor.

Over the next few weeks you and Mouse meet more often, regularly, sometimes he just sits on your couch and watches you paint, intently sticking your tongue out slightly, sometimes you watch him hacking in with ease somewhere to do something for Johnny's friends.

One day, your family's lawyer is at your door.

"Miss Y/L/N. It is time for you to attend to your duties. There are legal matters that we need to clarify." Mouse puts on his jacket and wants to leave, but you grab his hand. "Please stay." A look into your eyes is enough for him to nod and hang his jacket back up on the coat rack.

"Y/N. Once again, I would like to express my fullest condolences for your loss and for having to burden you with the legal stuff now."

"Thank you."

First he addresses the fact that you have still not accepted or renounced the inheritance. He lists all the things that are involved.

The house, the flats, the business, all the money of your parents and siblings. Mouse's ears almost fell off when he heard the buzzing.

"We can of course sell the house as well as the flats and the business."

"No. The company was Dad's life's work. It should continue to bear the name Y/L/N. Just hire someone competent to handle everything so far."

"I'II take care of it," promises Felix, the lawyer. "Then the properties." "Let's rent them out to people with little money..." Felix also makes a note of this.

"I want to donate most of the money..."

"Where?"

"'I’ll think about it.”

"Alright. Then I have everything for now. I'll get back to you." "Okay."

"You really are super rich”, Mouse said as soon as Felix was out the door.

"I don't want the money... What am I supposed to do with it? I can't spend as much as the company takes in. I probably donate monthly to women's shelters and children's homes or something.”

Mouse gently reaches for your hand and finally pulls you into a hug before the tears start running again.

Carefully he pulls you with him to the couch and onto his lap.

Shortly after your tears have dried up, Mouse feels you fall asleep and he smiles slightly.

In the last few weeks you have become so important to each other and you feel you have never told Mouse what it actually means to you that he is with you.

"Mouse... thank you..."

"For what?"

"That you're here. I... I was lost. Lost my footing and then I met you and... you became my anchor. I'm... I'm starting to be me again. Finding myself again."

He looks at you for a moment before he takes your hand and pulls you to him. The next moment his lips are on yours.

It doesn't take you long to recover from the surprise and you return the kiss. You open your lips slightly and receive his tongue, just like the night you met. But this time, when his tongue touches yours, a soft moan escapes you. You feel his little smirk against your lips. But at this moment you don't care.

Your hands run over his upper body and finally disappear under his T-shirt. You explore his chest and trace the contours of his muscles along his stomach. You tug lightly and he takes the hint and takes off his T-shirt before kissing you again without hesitation. His hands now roam over your body as well. Exploring every inch with such attentiveness to your reactions that you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Finally, you take off your T-shirt and Mouse takes a few seconds to admire your body. Your breasts are still hidden in your favourite bra.

Mouse lifts his gaze to your eyes. "May I?"

Your heart does a somersault. Mouse is not the first man you have slept with, but he is the first to ask you if he can do something. Unable to speak, you nod and bring his hands to your breasts and behind your back. Even though he can't look you in the eye for long, he watches your reaction very closely and as he slips the straps off your shoulders, goose bumps spread over your arms as his fingers touch you.

Kissing you again, still so lovingly, as if he were afraid you would break if he were too forceful, his hands wrap around your breasts and he begins to massage them.

His thumb strokes your hard nipples and you let out another moan as you begin to explore his mouth with your tongue.

Your excited moan shoots straight between his loins.

God, he wants you, so much, but even more he wants you to feel good, which is why he ignores the pulsing in his pants and continues to focus on you.

His hands go under your thighs and he looks at you briefly, the sign that you should jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and feel his hardness pressing against your middle.

The next moment, Mouse holds you between him and the wall, his lips now exploring your neck. With your eyes closed, you put your head to the side a little to give him more space.

He sucks a little on your skin, and leaves a little hickey.

An excited gasp escapes your throat and in response, he presses his hips a little harder against yours, only to have you moan lustily this time. "Fuck, Mouse..." you breathe as his lips reach your breast and cup your hard nipple.

Your head is swept clean as he begins to gently nibble, suck and lick over it.

Your hands are in his hair again, already you are searching for support in the storm of lust that threatens to take you in and you haven't even really started yet.

Each of his touches sends flashes of pleasure through your body, gathering in your centre and making you so fucking wet.

Finally, he sets you back down on the floor and his lips continue to travel down your body, over your belly to the waistband of your pants.

A loud shrill sound snaps you out of your frenzy of lust as a mobile phone begins to ring and you make a soft, agonised sound.

You want to ignore it, but it won't stop ringing.

Finally, Mouse, visibly annoyed about the interruption, breaks away from you and reaches for the phone on the table. "You've picked possibly the worst possible time, Halstead. I hope it's urgent."

You have to stifle a laugh as you hand him his shirt and put yours back on as well.

"Yes, in ten minutes, l'lI be there," you hear him say before he hangs up and looks at you apologetically. "Jay has some problem I need to help him with urgently, which of course couldn't wait." You nod in understanding and give him a breathtaking kiss goodbye.

The more time you spend with Mouse, the more you become yourself again. Margarita notices this too and confronts him when she happens to be in the flat while you and Mouse are there.

"Child, don't you want to start making your flat a home so that you no longer have to sleep in a storeroom?" she asks you, pointing to the boxes still standing around.

"Yeah, maybe I should start doing that, shouldn't I?"

When you then go to the kitchen to get something to drink, Margarita confronts Mouse: "If you hurt her, I'll make your life hell. She likes you and you are good for her, so don't ever let her go."

Then she turns to you as you re-enter the living room and says: "A nice young man you've caught yourself. I'II leave you to it then. Food is in the fridge, have a nice day." With a frown, you watch the woman scurry out of the front door.

"What was that?"

"I don't know what you mean," Mouse replies.

You shrug it off and change the subject. "Hey, about the flat furnishings...maybe you'd like to come with me?" You look at him with begging puppy eyes, which you know by now he cannot resist.

Your parents always had designer furniture everywhere and everything was made of very expensive material. You don't care, if you're honest, which is why you just decide according to what looks nicest to you. You notice how you think of your parents and don't immediately lose your grip. A small smile comes to your lips. Of course you still grieve and miss your family, that probably won't change, but it no longer paralyses you. You learn to live with it.

And Mouse has contributed a great deal to your healing, you are very sure of that, which is why you now take his hand and intertwine your fingers

A small smile also appears on his lips.

When you arrive in the bed department, you stand in front of a model and bite your lower lip, an idea forming in your head before you look at Mouse

"You know, you can't really try out the beds here. Just imagine, when you get home you realise that it's totally uncomfortable or impractical? If only you could try it out...." You look up at him meaningfully and he begins to laugh softly.

He understands what you are implying and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, before suggesting, "What do you say we come back later?"

"I think that's a great idea," you reply, stealing a small kiss from his lips.

…to be continued

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[samantha-chicago]

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[gregorygerwitz]

no one told you life post-grad was gonna be this way...

Growing up in Chicago as the son of a corporate lawyer, Gregory knew exactly what his life was going to look like. He would go to business school near home, then an Ivy League law school, just like his father. Once he had his law degree, he would work for his father's firm and establish himself in Chicago again so that all the right people knew his name and how to reach him.

And, by the time he was moving into an apartment in New York City, everything was going exactly as his parents had planned for him.

Columbia's law campus was close enough to enough bars and clubs that he could enjoy himself without going out of his way. He could buy drinks that were too strong. He could take a few pills from friends. He could hook up with an equally drunk hot local far away from anyone who knew him as the Gerwitz heir.

He was getting good grades. He was active on the social scene. He was a front runner for one of the best summer internships in the city. He was completely, totally successful in all the things his parents wanted him to do, and he hated every single second of it.

If it had been up to him, Greg would be a few hours away on the MIT campus, finishing up a master's degree in computers and technology. He never would have gone to Columbia, or even finished a business degree in the first place. He would have started his legacy instead of following in his father's footsteps. He would have been his own person, maybe even had a boyfriend, if such a thing wouldn't tarnish the family image beyond repair, or whatever his mother believed. With the weight on the entire family name on his shoulders, he didn't even have the option to imagine a life like that.

When he went back home, he would inevitably be married off to one of his mother's friend's daughters, and he'd have a new to do list for his life to start checking off.

On one night in particular, when he was even more upset than normal, he sat at a bar further from his apartment so that he didn't encounter any of his usual crowd. The last thing he needed was whispers about his bad habits spreading around right before midterms. He'd much rather do shot after shot of expensive whiskey poured by an exhausted looking student, based on the age of the bartender across from him, and ignore the look that was shot his way when the name on his credit card was read off with a level of disdain that was only used by half of Chicago.

"Gerwitz, huh?" "Yup." "From Chicago?" "There's a number at the end of my name, isn't there? Take your best guess as to why that is."

Will knew he was lucky to get out of Canaryville when he did. A scholarship, even if it was only a partial one, got him from his tiny family home to a dorm in New York, and he could figure out the rest from there. The rest just so happened to include not talking to his father, and being too far away for a proper goodbye when his brother enlisted and was sent across the world, and having too much of his life in shambles when all he wanted was to go home for a funeral.

Through his first four years in college, he had... someone. He knew better than to call Matt his boyfriend, especially after he'd "met" Matt all over again when Moira invited him to breakfast while she was in the city. That didn't stop him from opening the door every weekend at the drop of a hat, ignoring his studies so that he could be laid out in his bed with a hot med student on top of him. It didn't stop him from doing anything with Matt, wherever they ended up or whenever he got the phone call. It should have.

He'd spent the night with Matt just hours before he missed his flight home. He still knew exactly where the blame lay for his alarm conveniently not going off when he needed it to. Jay didn't, and that meant everyone else blamed him for skipping out on an important weekend that his brother never should have spent alone.

After that, during the summer between graduating with his four-year degree and starting at the Columbia med campus, he decided he wanted nothing to do with Matt ever again. He had the support of his rival, of all people, and Stevie quickly became his best friend when they formed a truce long enough to sign a lease on an apartment close to campus. He would have to work multiple jobs to keep up with his half of the rent, but that was something he'd been doing for years just to keep himself fed, as much as he could.

Between classes, and his job in the dining hall, and his job in the library, and a new job at the bar a few blocks down from their apartment, he didn't have the hours in the day to even let Matt Cooper cross his mind, and that was exactly how he wanted to keep it. The only thing he wanted to do was focus on becoming a doctor so that he could go home again, eventually, with his head held high. He wanted to prove he could do what he'd said he would do, even if he was the only one in his own corner.

Without Matt on his mind, the idea of another boyfriend was a distant one, at best, and completely impossible when he took what spare seconds he had to think about his life. It wasn't like he could take a man home to meet his Irish Catholic father, and he doubted that Jay - safely home from Afghanistan, just barely, and dressed in blue while he patrolled Chicago to keep it safe - would approve much, either. Still, being flirted with came with being a bartender, and no one would shame him for flirting back to get a bigger tip so he could afford lunch one weekend.

Especially when the name Gerwitz came up on a heavy platinum credit card.

That name was synonymous with royalty, back home. The only family names that were more recognizable were Rhodes and Sheffield, and they all traveled in the same circles. He just never expected to encounter that circle of people in a dive bar five blocks from his shitty apartment. But there, on a worn out bar stool no more than three feet away, was Gregory Gerwitz IV, heir to one of the biggest fortunes anyone in Chicago could imagine. And he'd been downing shots like a man who got left at the altar and fired within hours of each other since Will started his shift.

They weren't the same, they never could be, not when life dealt them such different hands, but they weren't exactly all that different. They were both alone, in a city far from their home and their families, and maybe being alone didn't always have to be so lonely.

[thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis]

A Gentle Voice (Greg Gerwitz x Reader)

Word Count: 2,106

Pairing: Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz x Reader

Summary: You got kidnapped by members of an aggressive incel group, and thought that this was how you were going to die. But a group of the Chicago PD are able to save you; now you just need to help them find the group that did this. Only one problem: You can’t talk.

Warnings: Graphic details of beatings and abuse, mentions of blood, violence against women, and swears.

A/N: So this was based off an idea by an anonymous sender asking for more mouse imagines. And since I am on a break from work (i’m okay, I just work at an elementary school and its summer vacation lol) I thought I would get some writing done :) I hope you all enjoy, and if anyone else has ideas for imagines you want me to write, send me a message!

I’m going to die.

You still remember the moment where you knew something was wrong when you were walking home from your job at the tech firm. It was late, not crazy late, but late enough where the street lights started to flicker on. The clicking of your footsteps soon stepped in sync with someone else’s, and before you could pull out your phone or your mace, a bag was thrown over your head and with a hard hit with something, you were out.

Now here you were, who knows how many days have passed, in a jail cell of a room, trying to anticipate when your kidnappers would come back for another round of smacking you around with the assorted weapons at their disposal. This group has been trying to extract some info about a set of code you had recently written to help one of the biggest banks in Chicago with their security; you assumed to rob it. You’ve also heard murmurings from outside your door about how they needed the money, for what though you didn’t know. 

While curled up in a corner, trying to prepare yourself for the inevitable; that you were not going to make it out, you were shocked by a big BANG that shook the walls that surrounded you. You could here shouting, many voices echoing around as the scuttering of footsteps getting closer and closer to where you were being kept. You tried to push yourself further into the corner, and as the door swung open your hid your head in your lap with your arms over your head for protection. 

“Hello?”

Slowly, you raised you head and squinted as a flash of light caught your eyes. In front of you was three people; two men and a woman. They had guns in their hands and bulletproof vests labeled with POLICE.

“Ma’am? Ma’am are you okay?” The taller man asked, his brown hair slicked back and his blue eyes looking at you with concern. With a shaky nod, the woman cop slowly comes over to you and kneels down.

“Are you Y/F/N Y/L/N?” Another nod, and the woman cop looks to her friends then back at you, offering her hand. “I’m Detective Lindsay, and we’re here to get you home.”

A flood of tears well up in your eyes and you reach out and grab her hand, her grip firm and comforting as she helps you up and out of your nightmare.

                                                        ---

Hours have passed, and Detectives Lindsay and Halstead are standing outside a hospital room where you were sleeping off the meds the doctors had given you. Erin and Jay watch you through the window as the doctor walked over to them, clipboard and your chart at hand. “Detectives?”

“Yes.” Erin said, straightening up. “How is she?”

“Y/N is sedated now, but looks like she might be here for a couple days. With contusions on her legs, two broken ribs and a concussion, we would want to keep an eye on her before sending her home. We also had to administer a rape kit after seeing the bruising on her legs.”

“These guys really worked her over.” Jay murmurs, looking at you again before turning back to his partner.

“When she wakes up, please give us a call. We need to ask her some questions about the people that kidnapped her.” Erin hands the doctor her card and is about to turn and walk away when the doctor’s voice makes the cops’ stop.

“That might be an issue.” Erin and Jay turn back around and walk back to the doctor, looks of confusion present on their faces. “When she got to the hospital before being sedated, Y/N stopped answering any and all questions presented to her.”

“Like she’s refusing to talk? Why would she do that?” Jay asked.

The doctor shook their head and pulled their clipboard to their chest, “The head of psych, Dr. Daniel Charles, believes that Y/N has developed Psychogenic Mutism. Basically because of the trauma Y/N has endured, her mind has shut off that part of her brain that allows her to communicate. It’s not that she is choosing to not speak; it is that she feels physically unable to.” They explained, glancing over in your direction as she progressed.

“How long will that last?”

“It could be days, weeks, or it could go on for years. This type of trauma response is very unpredictable because we are not just dealing with the health of the patient. We are dealing with their mental health and it they feel safe and secure enough that their mutism can subside.”

Erin looked over at you again and sighed, hating that not only had the people responsible hurt you and taken away your feeling of safety, they also somehow took away your voice.

                                                      --

Over the next few days, it was explained to you that an investigation was open on your kidnapping and subsequent abuse. A Dr. Charles also visited frequently about what he called your “mutism”. He ended up giving you a whiteboard and marker so you could write, but whenever he brought up your attack, it was like your brain would shut down. The first time it happened, you woke up to Dr. Charles standing over you, telling you that you had a panic attack and passed out. After that, Dr. Charles and others were very careful what to bring up around you.

Eventually, you were released from the hospital and given your own police protection detail just incase those guys tried to take you again. The Detectives that found you, mainly Detective Lindsay, would visit and say how you were, and if you had thought of anything useful to help the investigation, but it was no use. One one day, you were asked to come to 21st District to look at some pictures of possible perps, and you were dreading it. It was the first time you had left the house since being released from the hospital and you had made your apartment your safety bubble; essentially everything in the bubble was good, and everything outside was dangerous. But some righteous part of you wanted to see the people responsible for your attack put to justice, so you got into the police cruiser of one of your protection detail, and made your way to the 21st.

Inside the district, you were met with a sturdy-looking older woman behind the desk of the main floor. She looked like the one in charge, her eyes never wavering even when you walked over to her. The officers with you, you think their names were Burgess and Roman, explained who you were, and you were buzzed up to the upper level which was explained to you that was where the Intelligence Unit was. After arriving to the office space, officers Burgess and Roman were called over their walkies, the sudden noise making you jump. 

Officer Roman moved to answer the call as Burgess moved closer to you, “Sorry. It looks like we need to go. Lucky though you are in the safest place for you to be right now.” she said with a reassuring smile. “There is a civilian who works for the unit; he is their tech expert and used to work with Detective Halstead when they were Rangers. We’ll get him to come up and stay with you until the unit comes back.”

You nodded as Burgess and Roman walked down the stairs back down to the main flor of the district, leaving you alone for what feels like the first time in weeks. You took a seat at one of the desks, and fiddled with your hands as the silence around you started to press down on you. 

I’m alone...The last time I was alone I was taken...I-I don’t want to be alone...I-I-I

Suddenly the room felt like it was moving, a swaying motion that didn’t bring you any comfort. Your lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough breath as you tried to get more air into them, and slowly your brain realized that you were hyperventilating. You were so concerned with trying to breathe that you didn’t hear someone enter the space you were in or how they moved closer to you quickly. It wasn’t until there was a hand falling on your shoulder that made you jump out of your seat and look up.

In front of you was a man with combed back brown hair and striking blue eyes, wearing a spotted black-and-white button-up shirt and jeans. The look he was giving you was full of concern, but not edging on pity which was mostly what you’ve seen since your attack. It took a second to realize that his mouth was moving and words were leaving his lips.

“-ear me? Hey, can you hear me? You need to breathe, okay? Match my breathing.” He said, his tone calming and rumbling like a faraway thunderstorm. Slowly, you were able to take deeper and deeper breaths, your heart slowing down until the panic attack subsided. Tears started to drift into your vision as a wave of exhaustion encompassed you all the way to your bones. “Its okay, its always a bit overwhelming after an attack like that.”

You nodded as you wiped away your tears to try and regain some composure, but the man didn’t seem bothered by the tears. He gave you a small smile and patted your lap before getting up and heading to the side kitchen. There was noise of ceramic clanking together and the sound of water, and a couple of minutes later he came back with a cup of tea. “Tea really helps. I have a cup after I have my panic attacks and its a nice calming drink to help ground me.” He explained, handing over the cup.

You sip from the cup, the smell of flowers of some kind and the taste of some kind of sweetener warmed your chest and let a small smile appear on your face. The man smiled at your calm exterior before pulling over a chair and sitting next to you, “Officer Burgess explained they were watching over you but had to leave, I’ve been helping the unit on your case so I know you can’t speak. That’s okay though. I’m Greg, by the way. Greg Gerwitz, but everyone calls me Mouse.”

You look over with a confused look on your face, which made Mouse laugh, “Its a very long story, trust me you don’t want to hear it.” You smiled again, a little bigger than before, and you two spent the next few minutes in conversation. Well, with Mouse talking and you listening, but it was the closest to a normal conversation you’ve had in weeks. 

“-and then Jay, Detective Halstead, started running around like crazy, shucking off his shirt in the barracks looking for the spider.” Mouse said, laughing at the memory of Jay freaking out because of a spider. You were smiling and before you could even notice, your mouth was moving.

“What happened after that?”

Mouse turned to you in shock, and you stared back wide eyed as your hand came up to your mouth. “Oh my god.”

“Did...Did you just speak?” Mouse asked, his full attention now on your next move. You paused, thinking that you had both imagined that, but then went to try to speak again. 

“H-Hi.”

Mouse’s shocked expression turned into a smile, “Hi.”

Just as the two of you were in the middle of a moment, the gate leading to the bullpen downstairs clanged shut with the follow up sound of multiple footsteps coming up the stairs. Mouse and you both turned to see Detective Lindsay, Detective Halstead and a few others walking into the room. 

“Y/N, sorry for making you wait. I hope our tech expert Greg wasn’t that bad of company.” Jay said jokingly, giving Mouse a smirk. Before Mouse could open his mouth to reply, you stood up.

“N-No, he was great company.” You said as you watched Detective Lindsay and Halstead’s jaws drop at the sound of your voice. “He even helped me find my voice.”

“So you can talk now.” A voice said as an older man walked out to the front of the group. Clearly he was the Sargent Voight Mouse had mentioned to you earlier, the head of the Intelligence Unit. “Does that mean you’ll be able to help us with your case?”

You looked back to Mouse who gave you a reassuring smile, then turned back to the unit, “I’ll tell you everything.”

[thebookreader12345]

From Hate to Love

Requested by anonymous

"God you're so infuriating," I seethe.

"Oh and you're not?" Mouse retorted. "I mean, you're on my ass all the time!"

"I am not," I argue.

"Guys, we're not gonna do this again. Stop it!" Jay ordered.

"Tell that to Y/n," Mouse grumbled.

"That's it. I'm tired of you guys fighting. We're putting an end to this right now. Lets go," Jay urged and gestured for us to follow him.

Jay led us down to the basement, and I thought we might have been going to the tech room, but instead Jay brought us over to the cage. And when Mouse and I got too close to the entrance, Jay shoved us inside, closing the door behind us.

"Hey!" I shout and pound against the chain link fence as Jay locked the door. "What the hell, Jay!"

"You two are gonna sort out whatever problem you have with each other," Jay declared. "I'll be back down in one hour. Until then, have fun."

I sighed and turned to Mouse. "Do you think he'll let us out if we figure this out right now?"

"I don't know," Mouse confessed. "Why? Do you have something to say?"

"I've never really hated you," I admit. "I guess I just turned to hating you because I didn't want to tell you how I really felt."

"How you really...." Mouse trailed off. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that I like you, Mouse. A lot," I tell him. "And I know chances are you don't feel the same way but-"

Mouse cut me off. "Just shut up and kiss me."

And I did. I pressed my mouth to his, moving my hands up to tangle themselves in his hair. Mouse grabbed my waist and pulled me towards him, closing the distance between our bodies. For a few seconds, the two of us were enveloped in one another, but that all changed when someone started clapping at the other end of the room. I pulled away from Mouse to see who it was, and saw that it was Jay, who was leaning against the doorframe to the entrance of the stairs.

"Finally!" Jay cheered. "We've all been waiting for you guys to get together for forever."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Mouse muttered. "Now can you let us out of here?"

Jay laughed. "Sure. We should probably get back to work anyways. Don't want Voight to catch us slacking off."

______________________

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[collecting-stories]

Hovering - Greg ‘Mouse’ Gerwitz

Summary: Mouse fluff honestly cause I was watching him in a few episodes and I kinda love the way he gets all up in peoples’ personal space.

A/N: Devastated that he left...honestly. 

One Chicago Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“Have you tried running a reverse search on the other phone number?” Mouse asked, leaning over your shoulder so that he could look at the iPad in your hand. He was so close that you could feel his breath on your cheek and you were pretty sure you could chart every imperfection on his face if you turned your head…not that there actually were any. 

“Ever heard of personal space Mouse?” Jay teased, nudging his friend away and taking the ipad from you at the same time. 

“I ran trace on every number from the last three days, nothing connecting them to the other perp.” You replied, drawn back into work as quickly as you’d been distracted. 

It wasn’t the first time someone had given Mouse grief about his lack of spatial awareness but it was the first time that you noticed the missing presence hovering behind you. It wasn’t the kind of hovering your stepdad used to do, a sort of stalking invisible pressure at your back constantly making you feel like you were going crazy. Mouse’s tendency to stand too close felt more like someone had thrown a blanket over your shoulders, a soft kind of comfort that grounded you back to reality when you felt like your head was spinning…a hazard of the job sometimes.  

It wasn’t any secret that you had a soft spot for Mouse. Maybe more than a soft spot, as Jay had been quick to point out when he realized you were crushing on his best friend. (If “crushing on” was the correct term to use when you were both grown adults in your late 20’s). Either way, you liked him. You liked going to work and seeing him in the office and you liked when he invited you for a beer after shift and you liked when subconsciously invaded your personal space.  

Except there had been a lack of that since Jay teased him about it. A noticeable lack, at least to you, when you went to him with information and he just stayed behind his desk. He didn’t crowd into your space to look at the file in your hands or lean too close over your shoulder to show you something on the computer. There was a palpable distance between the two of you for almost an entire week before you finally decided to say something.  

After shift, when he was down in the tech room, staring at computer screens and drinking a beer. “Can I join you?” You asked, tapping your knuckles against the top of the counter that separated the two of you.  

Mouse leaned back in his seat, head tilting so he could see you, “oh hey, uh, yeah…” he sat up and reached for a bottle, holding it out, “be my guest.”  

“Thanks,” you took the rolling chair beside him and the bottle of beer, grateful for the opportunity to relax, even if there was something you wanted to talk about. It was an odd subject to broach. After all, how did you tell someone that you liked them standing too close.  

“You alright?” Mouse asked, spinning his chair back and forth as he watched you.

“Yeah...” you nodded, taking a sip of your beer before putting it down on the desk, “can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sure...but I might give you a weird answer,” he replied, the hint of a lopsided smile tugging at him lips.  

“You’ve kinda been...hanging back, I guess...I mean, usually you’re like,” you gestured vaguely with your hands, “right there. And now you’re not.”

“Oh,” he gave an empty laugh, if only to ease his nerves as he took a sip of beer, “uh...I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“I was just gonna say, I know Jay gave you shit about it but I don’t really mind.” You replied, “I just mean, I kinda...like...you being close and all.” For a well-respected detective you felt like a high schooler trying to tell the guy you liked that you liked them. Maybe Jay was right, maybe you were “crushing”.

Mouse nodded, that smiling creeping back even more prominently this time around. “Good to know.” He didn’t say anything else about it that night and neither did you, enjoying a six-pack in silence until finally both of you decided to head home.  

The next day at work though, as you stood in the breakroom getting a refill on your coffee, Mouse came in, crowding right into your space to show you something on his phone. He was watching you as you took the phone out of his hand, scrolling over the page that he had pulled up before looking at him. “What’s this? Is this for a case?”  

He shook his head, “thought we could get dinner there, if you want.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”  

-

If you want to be tagged in something fill out this form ☺️

[carnationworld-writings]

Being pregnant with Greg ‘Mouse’ Gerwitz’s baby

MASTERLIST

Paring: Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz x Reader

Universe: One Chicago

Word Count: 2759

Warnings: mention of PTSD, pregnancy, child birth, pain, therapy, overprotectivness, fem!reader

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your wellbeing is important to me!

Summary: How your pregnancy could be when being in a relationship with Mouse and as a member of the Intelligence Unit?

You met at work. You were a detective in the Intelligence Unit and an old friend of Jay Halstead when Mouse started working there. You immediately found him very sweet, and very often, you couldn't stop smiling when he couldn't stop talking or did his tech magic. 

You spent a lot of time talking. It was common to find both of you together. When you needed a moment to calm down after a case, you hid downstairs with him. When you all talked about new evidence in the case, he would lean against your desk. When you came back from the call, he ALWAYS came to check on you. 

You became closer after Nadia's death. Being a female cop was hard. You offered to help her, and that allowed you to spend a lot of time together. Her death hit you hard. (Not so hard like Lindsay, but still.) He had seen how different cases affected you. However, he had never seen you crying so hard, like in the moment when news about finding Nadia's body reached you. You collapsed in his arms, and he held you for hours. 

You started dating sometime after that. You both knew Voight's rule about no dating in the unit. Because of that, at your request, when you were sure about this relationship, you told him about this. You were sincere about everything, showing him that your relationship didn't affect your work. 

Everybody said that you are a perfect couple. Of course, you argued, but you always tried to understand the other person. Sometimes he was a little overprotective. Sometimes you were pissed off when he shut you down. But at the end of the day, you always tried to make up. Life was too short, especially when you were a cop. 

Pregnancy definitely wasn't planned. You realized that you were late on your period, and you told Mouse about this, even if at the beginning you thought that it was because of stress. He offered to go for a pregnancy test. When you waited for results, you saw how anxious he was, so you just held his hand. The test came positive, and you watched how he freaked out. He was afraid that he can't be a good father, that because of his PTSD, he could hurt the baby. 

"Greg… I know this is hard, and I'm not ready either. But I can't… I can't abort it." her voice cracked, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know that you will be an amazing father. I know it because you already took good care of me. You are so caring and generous. And I know that you would never hurt them. It will be hard, but I'm sure that together we can do it, like we did with so many things. But if you don't want it… I won't force you to stick with us. And I won't be mad if you walk away. Maybe I'll be a little hurt, but I will understand, Greg." She felt tears in her eyes when she looked at him. She could tell that he was thinking about her words. And then he came closer to her and took her in his arms. He held her tight, and she let her tears run on her cheeks. 

"I could never walk away from you. And you're right. We can do it. I'll go for a therapy or support group to keep my demons under control."

She didn't know what to say, how to show him how grateful and happy she was, so she just took his face in her hands and kissed him.

You made an appointment as soon as possible. That day, Mouse called Voight that you felt unwell and he'd stay with you. You went to the doctor's office together. When they did an ultrasound, he held your hand so tight and couldn't stop bouncing his leg. You both couldn't tear your eyes from the picture of your baby on the monitor. When your doctor asked if you wanted her to print it and how many copies you want, he just said: "As many as you could give us." 

You told Voight about your pregnancy as soon as it was confirmed. Actually you called him after you left the doctor’s office to meet him. You didn't want to risk the baby's life because of your work. When you told him, he really surprised you. He was so happy for both of you and hugged you. Immediately he put you on desk work for the unit - you worked for him so long that he knew that there is no power in the universe to stop you from working. 

You tried to hide it for the rest of the team as long as you could. You wanted to wait for the end of the first trimester, and you used an old wound as an excuse. 

After you found out about the baby, Mouse called Doctor Charles and started therapy again. He really wanted to be the best version of him for both of you. You always assured him that you are very proud of him and that you see everything he'd done.  

After your first appointment, Mouse became a little overprotective. He checked if you were not hungry and drank enough water. He made sure you didn't drink too much coffee and tried to get you to give it up. 

When the possibility of miscarriage went lower, you decided to announce pregnancy to your team. It was so hard to hide your pregnancy, especially when Ruzek and Atwater's lunch choices made you sick. You also were sure that Serge Platt knew about the baby or at least suspected something. This woman always knew everything, but she never said anything. 

Y/N and Mouse came to work a little earlier that day. She was glad that only Voight was in the bullpen. Mouse put your enlarged ultrasound on board and you wrote next to it: "Backup is on the way! Baby Gerwitz coming *due date*" and then turned the board to hide it, waiting for the rest of the team. She sat behind her desk, patiently waiting for everybody to come to work and slowly starting paperwork. When everybody came, Mouse went for Trudy, telling her that they needed her help with a case. When they all were on their spots, Voight went out of his office. A few days before, they asked him for help with the announcement, and even if he acted tough cop, he was honoured. He looked at Y/N, and when she nodded, feeling Mouse's hand on arm, he got the unit's attention. 

"Listen up, we got a case." He turned the board, and three of them watched the rest of this chosen family. Trudy was the first who gasped, looking at the young detective and then quickly came to her, taking Y/N in her arms. Y/N couldn't stop her tears at the amount of love from this family. She happily accepted every congratulations and hug. When she leaned on Mouse slightly, answering Erin and Antonio's questions, she missed the proud smile that Voight, Trudy and Al exchanged.

Since that day, Halstead, Ruzek and Atwater went overprotective of you. You often found on your desk some healthy snack, they brought you something to drink before you could stand up from your chair. If you only mention food that you craved, often one of them found a way to bring it to you. If you frown because of a cramp or because the position you were sitting in was not comfortable, they immediately asked if you were alright or needed to see a doctor. If they only could, they would put you on bed rest - much to Mouse happiness. And when they were too much, and your threats to kick their asses didn't work, only one look at Olinsky or Lindsay was enough to put them in line by one of them. Trudy welcomed you every day with a big smile, asking how you and "Baby Mouse" were feeling. She always made sure that you didn't carry anything looking heavy and made one of the patrol officers bring it upstairs. She loved hearing news about the baby, and when she found out that they started kicking, she was more than happy to feel it on her hand. 

You and Mouse spent a lot of time at home. He loved holding you in his arms, caressing your belly. One of his best memories from pregnancy was when you both felt them kicking for the first time. He bent on his knees to place a kiss on your stomach, and then he felt it against his lips. He gasped with wide-open eyes, and with chuckles, he kissed it again, whispering how much he loves them.

Mouse didn't let you do anything in the nursery. Of course, you could choose everything and decide what you want it to look like, but you couldn't even wash off the dust. With help from Jay, he made everything there, and you could go inside only when everything was ready. The effect exceeded your expectations.

Pregnancy also affected your sex life, especially in the second trimester. Your hormones made you so horny, and after calming Mouse that sex is safe in your condition, you tried new positions and other ways to reach the pleasure. 

Mouse made sure to be at every doctor appointment. He loved seeing your child on ultrasound and hearing their heartbeat. He also went with you to childbirth classes. Actually, it was him who asked to go there. He just wanted to know what he should be prepared for. 

He didn't complain about helping you when you couldn't sleep at night. He would go to the grocery if you had some weird cravings. He would rub your belly, talking to the baby, when they were moving too much. He would do everything to make you comfortable. He would rub your leg when you woke up because of contraction or massage your back. He tried to be patient with you, and your moods swung. He would calm you down with a smile after you started crying at Ruzek's comment about how big your belly became. He always assured you how beautiful you were in his eyes and how much he loved you and your changing body. 

You didn't make it to maternity leave when your waters broke in the middle of the bullpen. Everybody knew that you wanted to stay as long as you could at work. It was your first child, and you were a little afraid to be alone too long, and your sight also calmed down Mouse. You were alone upstairs when it started. Very calm you came to your desk and called Trudy, who were downstairs at the front desk. When she packed you to the car, you texted Mouse to meet in the hospital.

You were already changed in a hospital gown and slowly walking through the hospital corridors, leaning on Trudy's arm. She held your hand and slowly rubbed your backs whenever you stopped because of contraction. You both talked with Maggie from ED when you saw him running in look at you. You smiled at him and leaned against him when he hugged you. 

"You alright, babe? You scared me…" he whispered in your hair.

"I'm okay. The baby just decided to come earlier. I think they couldn't wait to meet you." He chuckled, and then he looked at Trudy. 

"Sarge, thank you for keeping them safe." 

"Everything for that baby." She smiled at you and squeezed your hand. She stepped back to go to the district, where she could wait there for any news about the baby, but you held her hand. 

"Sarge. Could you... Stay here?" If it didn't feel the wave of pain that moment, you could see tears in her eyes when she happily agreed. 

He saw pain on your face and how you dealt with it. He felt so helpless, hearing your moans and grunts full of pain. He tried to do everything to ease it at least a little, but there was a moment when he felt so overwhelmed by this.

You watched Mouse, trying to breathe in the way they taught you in childbirth classes. You saw how his eyes became foggy, and he couldn't stop them at anything for more than a few seconds. You slowly touched his hand and squeezed it slightly. 

"Greg, love... Maybe you should take a walk? Go check if the unit is here or go buy yourself something to drink." 

He didn't say anything but nodded his head and then walked out to the corridor. He didn't know how he walked out in front of the hospital. Not long after this, Jay found him sitting there with his head in his arms. With a frown, he touched his shoulder. He quickly guessed that his PTSD was making itself felt.

"Mouse, something happened? Something with the baby?" 

"She's in so much pain..." 

"And she needs you right now. Y/N is giving birth to your baby. And both of them need you, man." 

"What if I lose her? I can't..."

"And you won't. Y/N is the toughest cop I know, and she will survive this just like your baby. But she needs to know right now that you are with her in this. She needs all the moral support she can get, and you are the best person for this." Mouse nodded and took a few deep breaths. 

"You're right. Y/N needs me." Mouse looked at his friend and quickly got up. He ran to your room again to hold your hand through all this. 

Since that moment, he was by your side all the time, doing everything you asked him. When you started pushing, he held your hand and kept kissing your head. He whispered encouraging words in your ear, trying to be helpful for you. He couldn't count how many times he wished to take all your pain on him. 

He started crying when he heard your baby crying. When they rested them on your chest, he watched them, carefully touching their backs. He laced a fond kiss on their head and then kissed your lips. You watched this little person snuggling to your body with an amused face expression. 

After they checked if everything was okay with the baby and with you, they put you in a room. You sent Mouse to tell your friends that the baby is already in the world, and he did it with a proud smile. He asked them to give you some time, and then they could meet the youngest Gerwitz. He came back to you and then held your child against his chest when you rested a little. 

After some time, full of watching your baby and daydreaming about their future, Mouse went for your unit family. You held the baby in your arms with a big smile when they came in. Erin, Kim and Trudy started cooing at the baby when the older of them took the baby in her arms. You watched them with a tired smile, couldn't help giggling when Mouse acted as an overprotective father. You looked up, feeling how someone squeezed your shoulder slightly, and you met Voight's eyes, who smiled at you and whispered: "Good work, kid. And don't worry. This will be the safest kid in the whole city." It just made you believe that the whole unit will have this child’s back no matter what. And for most of the afternoon, you sat surrounded by people who you choose for your family. You listened to how they promised your child what they would do together and how great it will be. You were moved how they already cared for this baby and you. You happily accepted every hug, especially the one from Trudy and Al, which were like parental for you. 

When you were left alone, Mouse couldn't tear his eyes from your baby and didn't want to put them on that cold, plastic crib. He kissed your forehead with eyes full of love and let you finally sleep. In this room was everything that he ever wanted but didn't have enough courage to dream about this. So he watched the both of you, vigilant that no one disturbs you in your sleep. It was his life now, and he swore to himself that he would do everything to keep you both safe and happy. 

***

Author’s note: 

Thank you for reading! Please, let me know what are you thinking about this one! Your comment means a world for me and motivates me to work! Also, taglist is open! If you want to be added just let me know!

In advance, I am sorry about every grammar mistake and misspellings. English is not my first language.

Klaudia xx

***

One chicago taglist: @teti-menchon0604

Let me know if you want to be added/removed.

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz: Crazy 

You stormed down to the tech lab anger and panic filling the space in your chest. You see your boyfriend sitting in front of a computer typing on a computer with headphones on. He is clearly absorbed in his work and doesn’t notice you until you make it into his peripheral vision. He glances up and into a window seeing your reflection behind him. He swivels in his chair, a smile on his face at the sight of you. It quickly drops off his face when he notices your expression. “Baby...?” 

“When were you going to tell me?” You demand, stopping a foot in front of him. He sits up straighter in his chair and you can tell he is evaluating you. Your jaw is tight with tension, arms crossing over your chest in a distinctively closed-off position. Putting distance between you and him and defending yourself from the emotional blow you felt was coming. 

When Mouse found no clues but anger on your face, he started searching his memory for things that could have brought on this confrontation. He came up empty-handed. You two had always had a very open way of communication, something Mouse wasn’t used to, that often killed problems before they had time to develop. “You know, I’m a lot better at this whole thing when I actually know what we are fighting about.”  

You scoffed at him, shaking your head in disbelief. Your frustration and anger with him were building and you could feel it getting ready to explode through your chest. Mouse could see the emotions bubbling up inside you. He tried to defuse the situation. He stayed calm keeping his voice even as he slid his chair closer to you instead of standing to keep himself smaller. “Hey baby, c’mon now. Talk to me.”  

His hands reached for your hips to try to soothe you. You push the folded paper against his chest a little harder than necessary. You pull your hand back and watch the paper drop into his lap. “I’m talking about this! I can’t believe you didn’t have the decency to give me a heads up, or I don’t know have a conversation before making life-altering decisions for us.” Mouse’s confused blue gaze stayed on you, as he grappled for the paper and unfolded it. He looked down to see what the fuss was about. He stilled when he saw the paper. “Well, say something!” You demand when he stays silent.  

He looks back up at you, blue eyes soft. “Sweetheart, I think you have the wrong idea.” He says gently but it only has the effect of amping you up even more. It sounds like a brush-off- him condescending you. 

“I’m not stupid. It’s a release to go back to your unit. The Ranger’s 75th unit.” Your voice is getting louder, and you are pointing at him angrily. He stays strangely calm as he offers the half-filled paper back out to you. 

“Yeah, you're right. But sweetie look at the date.” His long finger taps the top corner of the page where the date is printed in black ink. You had seen it before it was dated out a month ago. But when your eyes scan back over the page you notice the year. The paper wasn’t from a month ago but a year and a month ago. Your mouth parts into a silent O as your arms drop down. You reach for the paper and Mouse hands it over without any resistance. You bring the paper back up to reread again to make sure that your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. 

This time when Mouse reaches for your hips you don’t take a step back. “I-wait what?” You mumble as you rake a hand through your hair. He smoothed his hands down your sides and to your thighs. He pulled you closer to him easing you down onto his lap. He traces his hand down your thigh. 

“I was offered to go back to my unit last year. They needed a proficient comms tech. I was struggling with being out of the field here. I felt like...” He paused still struggling with emotions though it had become easier. “Like it would be best for me to go back. Back where I knew that I was the good guy.” 

You searched his blue eyes, “What happened?” 

“I had a felony.” You tried not to let the shock show on your face. You knew that he had done some sketchy things when he got back from the service, but you didn’t know that he had caught a felony. “It was nothing crazy. I was caught with a truck of stolen Blu-Ray players.” He coughs as he adds, “And hacking into the Department of Defense.”  

“You what- why would you hack- you know what, it doesn’t even matter.” Mouse gave you a grateful nod- though he would have told you. “So, you couldn’t go.” He tilted his head back and forth indecisively. 

“Not necessarily, I just needed to get it expunged from my record.” 

“But you couldn’t?” You rub his arm comfortingly. You were trying to squash your gratefulness that it hadn’t worked out for him. If it had the two of you would have ever been here now. In the relationship with a man, you loved.  

He smiled fondly at you, “I did actually.” 

“Then why-?” He squeezed your thigh firmly. 

“Well, I was on my way to convince Jay to help me get it expunged. When I bumped into this beautiful girl at the coffee shop.” The breath caught in your chest. You search his face, a warm loving smile on his lips. He cupped your cheek, tracing your cheekbone with a calloused thumb.  

“You gave it up for a girl you just met? That crazy.” 

“No, I still went through the motions to go back. Keep in contact with my supervisor, went through the process to get my felony expunged.” He paused seeing the tears mist your eyes. Wiping away the tear when it rolled down your cheek. “But I spent time with you too. By the time I got the paper signed for my record to be cleared, I didn’t want to leave you. I knew if I did that would be the end of it for us. And I knew something was there. You were a light in my life. Leaving that without giving it a real shot- that would have been crazy.” 

I hate that Mouse left. Now I changed it so that he gets to stay. <3 I’m starting a tag list if you would like to be added, just leave a comment saying so. 

[dandelionfairyyy]

Writing my first Mouse-Oneshot…

I wrote nearly 4K words by now and I think the story didn’t even really started yet… 😂

So be ready for a very long but very beautiful Oneshot 😌

PS: my head is a mess now… 😂

PPS: the research for this was really fun tho 🤭😂

[samantha-chicago]

Who I Write For

These are all the characters I write for. Please keep this in mind when requesting anything.

All requests will be written in a female POV Many Thanks

Chicago P.D.

Adam Ruzek Jay Halstead Kevin Atwater Dante Torres Hailey Upton Kim Burgess Greg 'Mouse' Gerwtiz Hank Voight (Not Romantically)

Chicago Fire

Kelly Severide Joe Cruz Matthew Casey Blake Gallo Stella Kidd Randall 'Mouch' McHolland (Not Romantically) Sam Carver Brian 'Otis' Zvonecek Christopher Herrmann (Not Romantically) Wallace Boden (Not Romantically) Sylvie Brett Violet Mikami Leslie Shay

Chicago Med

Connor Rhodes William Halstead

911 Lone Star / 911

Evan Buckley Eddie Diaz TK Strand Carlos Reyes

S.W.A.T

Christina 'Chris' Alonso James 'Jim' Street Victor Tan Dominique Luca Daniel 'Hondo' Harroldson Decon 'Dec' Kay (Not Romantically)

[bullet-prooflove]

Greg ‘Mouse’ Gerwitz Masterlist

Mouse x Reader

Sunday Mornings With Mouse - Waking up with Mouse on Sunday Mornings.

Mouse & His Sobriety - Reflecting on Mouse’s soberity.

Mouse On Reading - What Mouse loves to read.

Living With Mouse - What it’s like living with Mouse.

Married To Mouse - What it’s like being married to Mouse.

Nightly Routine With Mouse - What is Mouse’s nightly routine?

Small Gifts - Mouse asks you out after receiving a gift from you.

Stolen Moments - Mouse sends a little time with his and your daughter.

Anything But Casual - Mouse admits his feelings for you aren’t casual.

Honeymoon With Mouse - What it’s like being on a honeymoon with Mouse.

Friday Nights With Mouse -  How you and Mouse spend Friday nights.

Working in Tech With Mouse - Two nerds get it together.

Dating Mouse and Being Jay’s Sister - Mouse frets about telling Jay.

Aggressive Guy In A Bar - How Mouse responds.

Neck Kisses (NSFW) - Mouse loves lazy Sundays.

How Long Have You Been Hiding This - Mouse challenges you about something you recieved in the post.

7 Months - Mouse comes home to discuss the future. - Companion piece to  How Long Have You Been Hiding This.

Shaking Hands - Mouse tries to hide his shaking hands.

Anal Sex (NSFW) - Mouse loves your ass.

Bad Day - You and Mouse both have a bad day.

Rainy Day with Mouse -  You draw Mouse as he sleeps.

Seen - Mouse helps you recover after you are injured.

Return On Investment - Greg points out the problem with the guys you’ve been dating.

Empathy - You are there for Mouse when he struggles with depression.

The First Time - Mouse knows there’s a reason you don’t talk about your first time.

Voice Mail - Mouse can’t face a life without you.

Suicidal!Mouse:

Falling - Mouse ODs on the beach.

A Safe Place - You return to the place where Mouse commited suicide. 

Series:

Placeholder - You don’t love your boyfriend and Mouse knows it.

Placeholder Part Two: Promises (NSFW) - Mouse comforts you during your break up.

PTSD!Mouse - Can be read as stand alone or part of a series (Completed)

Part One: Night Terrors - Mouse experiances night terrors as part of his PTSD.

Part Two: Making Plans - Mouse and you make plans.

Part Three: Reflection - Jay Halstead - Jay isn’t sure a relationship is a good idea.

Part Four: Coming Clean - Mouse comes clean.

Part Five: No Pressure - Mouse walks you home.

Part Six: Self Care - Greg Gerwitz  (NSFW) - Mouse has an experiance he hasn’t had in a long time.

Part Seven: Lucky - Mouse can’t believe how lucky he is.

Part Eight: Home - Mouse and you have the perfect first date.

Part Nine: Baby… - (NSFW) You give yourself over to Mouse.

Part Ten: His - The Morning After

Five Sentence Series: Addict!Mouse

stay up all night all alone waiting by the phone?

Holding on through, every night

I thought that I was the exception I could rewrite your addiction

“Well how the hell was I supposed to know that?

Thrashing the covers off

I was losing my mind

THOTS:

Fun - Mouse loves the fun the two of you have.

Mouse’s NSFW Dirty Alphabet:

Alone Time

Bondage

Crying

Quiet

X Dressing

Yes Sir

Zones

Chats

Discussing Mouse’s previous OD - Erin Lindsey x Greg Gerwitz - Friendship

Discussing the kiss - Greg Gerwitz x Reader

Olinsky catching up with your Dad - Al Olinsky x Reader - Friendship

Discussing Mouse Dating - Jay Halstead x Greg Gerwi

[slytherbun]

mouse

one shots

↬ appreciation* 0.7k (fem!reader, sexual content) after a long day mouse can’t help himself and shows you his gratitude in a particular kind of way after his rescue from a hostage situation that he was involved in.

blurbs + drabbles

↬ first time*

[thebookreader12345]

Birthday Blurb (Greg Gerwitz)

"He's gonna hate us," Jay muttered.

"What? No he won't," I disagree.

"Y/n, he doesn't like celebrating his birthday. He's gonna hate us for doing this," Jay spoke.

"Technically we're not celebrating though," I bring up. "It'll just be him, his best friend, and his girlfriend having a few beers at Molly's. That's it. We'll be fine."

"If Mouse hates me after this, I'm blaming it on you," Jay told me.

"Greg will be fine with it," I state.

"You know, you're the only person that calls him by his first name," Jay reminded me.

"And his parents," I add and glance up at the door to the bar. "Look. Here he comes. Happy Birthday!"

Greg smiled and pecked my lips. "You didn't throw me a huge party? I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well, I figured just Jay and I would make you happy, so here we are," I say.

"Happy Birthday, man," Jay exclaimed and hugged his best friend.

"Thanks," Greg returned.

"First round of beers is on me," I declare. "But Jay, this is like a one time thing. So don't pressure me into buying you a beer every time we come here after work."

"I'll make sure he doesn't. Promise," Greg pledged. So, I went to the bar and grabbed 3 beers, bringing them back to the table in less than 2 minutes.

"I think this calls for a toast," Jay brought up.

Greg groaned. "No. Please don't."

"Shut up," I joke and shove Greg playfully. "No one else is gonna hear it anyways. All right. Here's to Greg, the best boyfriend and friend ever, who, no matter what, always has everyone's back. Happy Birthday."

"Happy Birthday," Jay cheered and clinked his bottle with mine and Greg's.

"I hate you guys," Greg murmured.

"What did I tell you?! I said he'd hate us after this," Jay commented.

"Whatever. Just be quiet and drink your free beer," I instruct.

[wellimaginethat]

Baby Mouse

Pairing: Greg ‘Mouse’ Gerwitz x (female) Reader

Word Count: 1724

Author’s Note: I hope this is good and that I kept him in character because I’ve never written for him before (I adore him though)

Trigger Warning(s): Mention of pregnancy, anxiety/panic attack

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Greg and Y/N have a six week old son and have been exhausted because of the new baby, so when Greg doesn’t show up on time to dinner on their first wedding anniversary, Y/N gets upset.

Y/N = Your Name

Y/SN = Your Son’s Name (because I suck at picking names)

You met Greg by complete accident. You weren’t even supposed to be in Chicago at the time but your flight had gotten delayed due to bad weather, and then cancelled all together, leaving you stranded in Chicago overnight.

He was at the airport because he had just gotten back from deployment and when he saw you crying, he had to see what was wrong and if he could help you.

When he sat down beside you, you were shocked and immediately looked up, wiping at your cheeks.

“Are you okay?” He asked you gently.

You sniffled and tried to force yourself to stop crying, there was no denying that this guy was a soldier because he was still wearing his fatigues, and you didn’t want him to think you were a baby. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You answered him, hating how weak your voice sounded.

He nudged your arm gently. “You don’t look too fine right now.”

You swallowed and waved your hand in the air dismissively. “I’m just being a baby.” You tried to shrug it off, but you could tell he wasn’t having it, and you sighed. “My flight got delayed until tomorrow, so I won’t be home in time for my baby niece’s first birthday and I’m just bummed out. I know I’m overreacting.” You tried to make it seem like it was nothing.

He just shook his head. “I’d be crying too if I was looking forward to something like that only to get it ripped away at the last second.” He spoke comfortingly.

You swallowed hard again and looked at him, trying to smile. “It’s just a bummer.” Again you tried to shrug it off.

“Why don’t you come have a drink with me and we’ll try to make your night better.” He stopped and a look of realization and embarrassment spread across his face. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You genuinely laughed at his embarrassment. “It’s okay.” You tried to assure him.

“Well at least I got you to laugh.” He smiled widely at you. “So what do you say? I’m meeting a buddy of mine at a local bar, you’re free to join us.”

You smiled some and nodded. “Yeah okay, I don’t really have anywhere else to be.” You stood up at the same time he did. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” Sticking out your hand to shake his.

He smiled at you. “I’m Greg, but my friends call me Mouse.” He told you, shaking your head.

You tilted your head in and looked at him curiously. “Why’s that?”

“Well my last name’s Gerwitz.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You laughed softly and nodded. “Now I get it.”

He nodded, smiling softly at you. “So, Y/N, shall we?” He offered his arm to you.

“Oh, a gentleman.” You smiled and linked your arm with his, walking with him out of the airport.

That night you fell completely head over heels in love with him and he did the same for you. You stayed the night with him and his friend, Jay, but didn’t sleep with either of them and they were complete gentlemen towards you, and the next day Greg went with you to the airport to see you off.

You had given him your number and a chaste kiss before running off to catch your flight, not sure if he’d call you or text you, and you were pleasantly surprised when your phone dinged right before you got seated and you saw that it was him.

Over the course of a year the two of you formed a mostly long distance relationship, visiting each other only a few times, which was probably a good thing to get used to since he was still actively enlisted and planned on going for another tour of duty. It marked a year and a day when he called you up and asked you to move to Chicago to be with him.

“I know it’s away from your family, and I know this is probably crazy, but I want you here.” He told you honestly, you could tell he had a few beers in him and that it just made him honest. You could hear Jay in the background trying to stop him, probably worried that Greg was about to scare you off.

“Greg.” You spoke softly, stepping a bit further from your family so you would have some privacy.

“I know it’s crazy.” He said again. “And I know I’m still enlisted and I have no idea if you want this to go further.”

You cut him off. “When?” You asked softly.

He stopped. “What?” He asked, shocked.

“When? When do you want me to move?” You asked him softly.

“Wait, you mean you want to?” He asked, sobering up quickly.

“Yeah.” You said softly. “Right now I’m just a waitress and I can do that anywhere, and I can finish my degree anywhere.” You explained in the same tone. “I love you and want to be with you.” You bit your lip.

“As soon as possible.” He answered you, his voice bubbling with excitement and you could practically see the goofy grin on his face.

“Okay.” You breathed out, excitement and nerves forming together and making you feel like you would explode.

That was nearly three years ago. And now you two were married and had a son together and it was your first wedding anniversary, so you wanted to do something special.

You had dinner all made and the table set fancy, and you laid Y/SN down to sleep, and for being only six weeks old he slept really well, while you got everything set up.

Greg was supposed to be home at six, and when six fifteen rolled around you were starting to get really sad.

Maybe it was from the lingering hormones from being pregnant in your system, or maybe it was because you weren’t getting quite enough sleep due to having an infant in the house that constantly needed attention and feedings, or maybe it was all of it, but you started to cry.

And not just a few tears, no you were full on sobbing when your husband walked in twenty minutes late.

The sight made him panic and he ran over to you, dropping the bouquet he bought for you on the coffee table. “Babe, honey, what’s wrong?” He asked worriedly as he knelt on the floor in front of you.

You looked up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “You’re late.” You told him sadly.

“Oh baby.” Greg said softly, moving to sit next to you and pull you into his arms.

“I was worried you forgot.” You cried.

You could feel him shake his head as he held you to his chest. “Never.” He spoke softly, gently stroking your hair. “I wanted to get you some flowers but most of the flower shops were closed.” He told you softly. “And then there was traffic.”

“You should’ve called.” You knew you were being unreasonable, it was only twenty minutes, but at that moment you didn’t care.

“I know.” Greg whispered softly against your hair, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffled and looked up at him, your mascara smeared and your eyes red. “And now I look like a mess.”

“I think you look beautiful.” He said softly, running the pad of his thumb across your cheek to stop a stray tear. “Just like when we first met.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him and laugh softly. “I made dinner.”

“Smells good.” Greg told you with a smile.

“I hope it tastes good.” You stood up from the couch, already feeling better.

“I’m sure it will.” Greg told you as you led him to the kitchen, after he retrieved the flowers from the coffee table. “These are for you, by the way.”

You turned and gasped. “Oh, my favorite! They’re beautiful.” You said softly, smiling as you kissed him. “Sorry I was overdramatic.”

Greg smiled at you and shook his head. “Don’t be.” He said softly, arms wrapping around your waist.

“I need to put these in some water.” You held up the flowers in between the two of you.

He took them out of your hands and set them on the table. “In a minute.” He replied before his lips found yours again.

Your moment was interrupted when Y/SN started crying from his bassinet in the living room, you pulled away.

“I got him.” Greg said softly, pecking your lips before moving to the living room.

You smiled softly at his retreating form before turning and plucking the flowers up, going to find a vase and get them in some water. After that was done, you set them on the table as a centerpiece before going into the living room. You were met with the sight of your husband holding your son, giving him a bottle and gently bouncing with him as he did, moving about the living room. You took your phone out and snapped a picture before going into the room more. “You’re so good with him.” You spoke softly, love in your eyes. “Such a good dad.”

Greg smiled happily at you, his eyes darting between you and the baby in his arms. “Can’t say I’m not nervous that I’ll screw up.” He admitted softly.

“Sometimes parents screw up, but we love him and that’s what’s important.” You assured him softly, looking at your baby boy’s face to see that he had fallen asleep while eating. “Looks like the baby mouse is asleep.”

“Really? You picking that up from Jay?” He questioned your use of the nickname as he set the bottle down and carefully laid Y/SN back down into the crib.

You shrugged with a slight smirk. “I don’t know, I kinda like it.” You told him.

Greg walked over to you and put his hands on your waist, leaning down to kiss you again.

You pulled away, causing him to pout. “Dinner is going to be ruined if you keep kissing me like that.”

He shrugged and gave you a devilish grin. “Then we can just order pizza.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Not happening.” You kissed him once before heading into the kitchen, him following you close behind.