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faithsxoxo · 9 months ago

Note

hi ! i hope you’re having a good day :) could you write a reagan ridley x fem/gn reader one shot, totally up to you ! i don’t really have anything in mind so feel free to play around with it however you like, would love if it had a bunch of fluff though ! thank you sm, stay hydrated and take care of yourself <33

pairings :: reagan ridley x fem!reader (established relationship) warnings :: none note :: my girl needs WAY more wlw appreciation (i love her)

The mechanical door to Reagan's office slams open, making you flinch. The brunette storms in, clutching a pile of crumpled papers.

"Hey, Reag, you alright?" You stand from your designated spot near her desk.

"I'm fine. No big deal, just my dad screwing me over as always," She grumbles. "He's decided that my work from the past month isn't up to 'Ridley standard' so I have to redo it all."

You can see Reagan visibly crumple as she flips through the pages she spent so long on. You didn't have a clue what any of it was about, but you knew it was complicated.

"I'm sorry," You whisper as you wrap your arms around her torso.

"It's not your fault," She mumbles, leaning into your touch.

"I know. Maybe I could help?" You rest your head in the crook of her neck. "We can go home.. have a spa day.. watch a movie.. stop worrying about this bullshit."

Reagan grins softly and shakes her head. "Tempting, but I have a deadline."

With that you can see the shift in her demeanor. She frowns and pulls away from your hold, reaching for the papers once again.

"No," You grab her arm and gently pull her away. "Not happening. We're going home if you like it or not."

"But-"

"No. I suddenly came on with an illness because I spent too long in the genetics department, and you came to take care of me. No buts," You link her arm with yours and lead her to the door.

"Twenty four hours, no work. Got it?" You give Reagan a stern look.

She shakes her head with a chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah. Got it."

Barely twenty minutes later, Reagan is sitting cross legged in front of you.

"Ugh, it's cold," She winces as you apply the face mask.

"Its hydrating. Alright, pick out a movie. I'm gonna go check on the popcorn," You finish with a peck on the lips, before skipping off to the kitchen of your small apartment. She had only moved in with you a few months prior, for your one year anniversary. Reagan had been desperate to escape from living with her dad any longer.

You take a moment to admire her while shes distracted. Reagan in her full beauty, splayed out on your cream couch. Her face is painted green, yet in your eyes she's still the pinacle of perfection. You take note of how relaxed she looks compared to the tense bundle of nerves she had been previously.

"Are you going to get the popcorn or are you going to keep ogling me?" Reagan calls across the room.

"I dont know, ogling seems pretty tempting," You grin back.

She rolls her eyes with a small huff, but you can see the corners of her lips turning up slightly. You swiftly grab the popcorn and return to your place on the couch.

"Hey," She grins softly at you as you curl into her side.

"Hey. What movie did you pick out?"

"Space Jam."

"Ugh, seriously?" You shake your head and giggle.

"What?" Reagan protests. "It's a good movie!"

"Suuuure. You gonna bring out your old prom dress with it?" You tease.

She smacks you on the arm playfully.

"It would be an honor to see me in that dress, I don't think you deserve it."

"Oh, right, after I've spent all this time giving you a spa day this is how you treat me," You cross your arms and begin to pull away.

"Maybe I'll just go eat popcorn by myself."

Reagan pulls you back towards her, wrapping her arms around your midsection.

"Too late, you're stuck with me," She announces, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You sigh, leaning back into her.

"I guess I can live with that."

Reagan turns on the movie as you snuggle into her. With the dim light of the TV, both of you eventually drift off in eachothers arms, finally in complete peace.

#faithsxoxo #inside job #inside job x reader #reagan ridley x reader #reagan ridley

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penwieldingdreamer · 9 months ago

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A Shot in the Dark ~ Prologue

Well, welcome to my latest obsession - FBI and OA Zidan. This is a crossover between FBI, FBI: Most Wanted & Blue Bloods. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged in any future chapters.

I do not own any of the characters of the FBI Franchise and Blue Bloods, they belong to their respective owners

Summary It's said, you'll always meet twice in life. But you never thought it be in a hostage situation with a gun pressed against your head.

Warnings: hostage situation, canon typical violence, coarse language, smut in later chapters

The human mind is really the scariest thing of all.

Life in general is scary, and yet you step out of your home each day and face it. You imagine how a situation might turn out if you just changed one thing in your day to day life. Sometimes it’s the sandwich they didn’t have at the bakery and sometimes it’s the choice you make on the job.

“Andrew, drop the gun and let my sister go!” Detective Danny Reagan called, his own weapon trained on the former NYPD officer, voice shaking as he looked at you, seeing his own fear mirrored in your eyes. “She’s got nothing to do with this. You want me. Let the kids and her go.”

Shaking his head, former police officer Andrew O'Sullivan pushed the muzzle of his gun harder against your temple. "They are all the leverage I need to get you to do what I want."

"O'Sullivan! This is Agent Scott and Agent Bell with the FBI. Surrender your weapons and let the hostages go. We will make sure that your demands are met, but you need to let the kids and Miss Reagan go."

You could feel the tears running down your cheeks, but you knew you had to be strong for the children. Their parents put you in charge and you, as their teacher, needed to make sure they'd get out safe. “Please Mister O’Sullivan, you got me, let the children go home. They don’t have anything to do with this.”

Your heart was hammering in your throat watching your brother desperately trying to get Andrew to drop the weapon, the ground feeling like it was going to be pulled from underneath you. And here you thought it was going to be a good day today.

Five hours earlier, 9:15 Bluestone Lane Tribeca Café

"So, heard anything from tall, dark and handsome? You looked cute together."

“Erin!”

“Mom! You’re embarrassing her.”

The lawyer grinned into her coffee mug as the three of you sat together for breakfast. "What!? I saw pictures from way back when. It's been more than four years now, just thought maybe you'd have a run in with him again."

"Nope, haven't seen him since before he started training at Quantico and you would know that. I'm practically living with dad and pop again after those idiots living above me wouldn't have smoked weed and forgot to shut off the water."

Nicky only rolled her eyes at her mother trying to play matchmaker – as always. “You should leave Y/N alone. Danny would have a field day if she came home with him.”

“Thank you, Nicky, I knew why you were my favorite niece.” You took a bite from your chocolate croissant. Usually you’d be getting the breakfast sandwich the café was famous for but today they were all out.

“I’m your only niece, so that’s not a hard feat to do.”

“Yet.” You pointed a finger at the younger woman. “And I don’t even know where he is. I’ll not be running after him and use dads resources to find him.”

“All I’m saying is that you should get laid, you can’t just stay a single workaholic forever."

Sending your sister a disapproving look, you could see the disgust on your nieces face. She was old enough to be part of that conversation and already had one boyfriend, yet you knew she was absolutely embarrassed by her mother's choice of breakfast conversation.

"Mom! God! I'll be heading off to work or you'll start talking about dad and yourself." Nicky, so much like Erin grabbed her purse and to-go cup, leaned over to kiss her mother's cheek before she moved next to you. With her arm draped over your shoulder, she leaned in as if to whisper into your ear but still spoke at normal volume. "Don't let her bully you into looking him up. You do you, Auntie, but she's right, you need to get laid."

Slack jawed at her gall, you turned accusatory eyes on the lawyer. "That's definitely on you, Erin. You taught her to be like that."

"Well, she's definitely got that from me and she'd make a great lawyer like that."

Letting out a sigh, you leaned back in your chair.

Damn, they were right.

Quickly apologizing to God under your breath, you try to anchor yourself to your mug. It had been years since you had seen Omar. You had met him outside a bar in the Financial District, after a date had dumped her right before dessert, telling her she wasn’t worth his time.

“He’s a dick, he wasn’t going to know what to do with you anyway.”

You sat together at the bar and talked about random stuff – friends, hobbies, only things that wouldn’t compromise him as you later found out he was undercover for the DEA.

“You’re quiet, what are you thinking about?”

Blinking, you watched your sister with a small, wistful smile, something she had seen so often when you had gone out to have breakfast with Nicky and her every Saturday morning. “Nothing.” You shrugged your shoulders, but the secret smile that barely turned up the corners of your mouth was still there and the lawyer knew that one, she had seen it often enough.

Erin took a sip from her coffee, narrowing her eyes at you. “Don’t give me that shit, Y/N. It’s Tall, Dark and Handsome isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” You admitted quietly, looking down at your fingers, busy playing with the white napkin under your croissant.

“You should get Eddie to look for him, maybe he’s in town.”

Shaking your head vigorously. “No, I’ll not be looking for him. We would have seen each other, probably...maybe.”

“New York is huge, you think you’d just walk down Broadway and bam! There he is? Y/N, I can assure you, that’s not how it works.” She laughs, knowing all about it with her ex-husband Jack. “You want him, you need to look for him, he’s not just going to turn up if you snap your fingers.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to look for him, maybe it wasn’t meant to be if I haven’t run into him by now. Or maybe he’s somewhere in D.C., happily married with 1.93 kids, living in the suburbs and chasing the bad guys.”

Chuckling, the lawyer shook her head at you. “You got it all figured out now, huh? Maybe he’s still single, thinking about that maybe with you. He was really nice when he came around for lunch that day.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me, Eddie wouldn’t shut up about him for a week straight.” Just then your phone chimed, letting you know that you needed to get ready to get to your Junior High class for their field trip to the museum. You would meet them together with their parents right in front of the museum. “Shit, I’m late! Sorry Erin, I got to head off.”

“We’re not done talking about him!” She called after you as you raced out of the cafe to the next Metro station.

An hour and a half later you remind your seventh grade students to be nice and listen closely to the lady showing you around the National History Museum. “There’s going to be a test on Monday next week, so you guys should take notes on all of this.”

A groan ripped through the hall and I knew they hated me for this. “But Miss Reagan, you said we could have fun today.” Jimmy calls from the back, a frown on his cute face.

Giggling, you shook your head. They were still thinking it was just going to stay easier from there on out. “I did, but it doesn’t mean you guys can slack off on your school work. This is going to help you with your Science project.”

Groans, followed by sighs from your students were the end of that conversation. You and the group of thirteen-year-olds followed Mrs. Langdon as she talked about the museum, which exhibitions had already been part of the building and what was waiting for the boys and girls of Lower Manhattan Middle School. They were in the Early Adolescence stage and it was absolutely normal for them to act like that. With Nicky, Jack and Sean you had been exposed to that stage early on and you loved them for it.

You entered the Saurichian Hall of the museum, awed by the skeletons, the hairs on your arms starting to raise from the goosebumps at the imagination of having lived back in time, 66 millennia’s ago. But somehow, it wasn’t the only thing that gave you the shivers. At the entrance of the museum you had seen a guy, dressed like everyone else. But you had been around police your whole life and listened to your bothers to know that something was definitely wrong with him. His head was down but you saw his eyes darting about like he was searching for something – or someone.

Getting to the next section, you slightly turned your head away from your students excitingly listening to the tales of each dinosaur exhibited at the museum.

There he was again, the backpack slung low on his shoulders and it looked like he was sweating. Was he sick and needed help? If so, wouldn’t he have asked the people at the front desk or even stayed at home.

Danny had always told you to be vigilant about suspicious people roaming about and this guy fit the description. Should you text Danny or Jamie? They were probably busy with their cases and if he was just a creep you’d make a fool out of yourself and maybe your dad in extension.

Police Commissioner’s daughter accuses visitor at the National History Museum to be a creep and makes a laughing stock out of the Reagan family.

Now that would be the headline of the week.

Turning back to listen to Mrs. Langdon and your students with a sigh you missed him pulling out a gun from under his jacket, pointing it at your back before slightly lifting it up and pulling the trigger.

11:40, Joint Operations Center

“Alright guys, we've got a hostage situation at the National History Museum. Twenty-two students from LoMa Middle School and their teacher. This is high profile. Detective Reagan with the NYPD called it in about fifteen minutes ago.” ASAC Jubal Valentine’s voice rang out through the JOC. He motioned to Elise, one of the Analysts to put every information on the screens. “This is Y/N Reagan, she’s a teacher at the school and also the daughter of New York City Police Commissioner Frank Reagan.”

Your picture popped up on the screens, a happy smile on your face as you sat together with your father and your brother Jamie at a city function.

“You know, now that I’m done with my trainee-ship as teacher, we could make it official. Dad wants me to tag along at this function or other and I’d like to take you as my plus one.” You smiled at him, your arms slung around his neck as you lounged together on his bed.

Omar ran his fingers from your shoulder to your elbow and up again. He loved the feeling of your soft skin under his hands, slightly roughed from the army. “It would be nice, I’d love to finally show you off to my family as well. Erin has been nagging me like a hen to know who the guy is making me smile all day.” He smiled, nuzzling her neck and listening to her giggles as his nose and beard rubbed up and down against that point where her neck met her shoulder.

"I'd like that. I bet your sister isn't the only one nagging." He chuckled, burrowing closer and pushing his lower half against yours earning a soft groan from you.

Your fingers raked over his head, feeling the short cropped hair tickle the palm of your hands. “Pop and dad are already giving me those penetrative looks, you know the ones where they are acting like cops and trying to read a suspects thoughts.”

Closing his eyes, the former army ranger breathed in your scent. It was the one thing that grounded him on days his mind sent him back to Iraq. “From what you told me I’m more afraid of your brother, not your father and grandpa.”

Omar moved next to Maggie, a soft Shit leaving his lips as his eyes swept over the screens. It had been a few years since he’d last seen you, only a few days short of leaving for his training at Quantico. Seeing your face, tear track staining your cheeks with the suspect pressing his gun to your head.

The brunette watched her partner, the fingers of his left hand anxiously playing with his ring. A sign that he was nervous. A sign Maggie had learned in the beginning when they first were partnered up.

“You know her?”

He sighed, “We, ugh, we dated for a while before, before I went into training. I...broke it off, because I thought she’d be better off without me.”

“Gosh, OA.” Maggie murmured, scratching a fingernail along her eyebrow thoughtfully. She knew her partner had been in relationships before – he was Muslim, not a virginal saint, but she had never seen him this distraught or anxious.

It was clear as day that you were still important to him and it took everything in him to not run out the door and drive off toward the museum.

"What do we have on the suspect?" Isobel questioned, coming to stand next to her 2nd in charge.

"Suspect is 40 year old Andrew O'Sullivan, former police officer with the NYPD, 54th Precinct and bomb specialist with the Marines. Detective Daniel Reagan, Y/N’s older brother was part of the investigation against him.” Kelly Moran, an analyst at the JOC spoke up, tapping hastily on his keyboard and sending the pictures of their suspect to the bigger screens. “He took drugs from evidence and tried to sell it on the street. O’Sullivan needed it for his daughter, she has leukemia and he was going to take the money to pay for her treatments.”

The analyst pressed a key to show the picture of a little girl, maybe ten years old, grinning at the camera. “Lena O’Sullivan, she”

“His daughter died two days ago, that’s why he’s doing it. He wanted to save her from it and we took the money that would pay for her treatment. Andrew has been angry with me for a while and called me after Lena died.” A new voice sounded from behind them, strong and authoritative, yet they could all hear the pain laced into his words. “He has my sister and if you guys don’t get a move on, Andrew is going to kill them all.” Detective Daniel Reagan had made his way to the JOC, knowing he couldn’t make a move against O’Sullivan without the people of the FBI. You were his little sister and he’d be damned just sitting around at the precinct when he needed to get you to safety. More so when Erin would have his head for being the reason the former officer had you and your kids as hostages.

#oa zidan x reader #oa zidan #reagan family #fbi #fbi most wanted #blue bloods #reagan sister!reader #danny reagan #fbi cbs imagine #blue bloods imagine #fbi x blue bloods #fanfic #fanfic writing

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ben-pincus · 2 years ago

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might I request headcanons for brett hand where after the still valley episode, the reader kinda sorta swipes his blue letterman jacket just cuz (I want one so badly I don’t think you understand) and his reaction to seeing them wear it?

please, and thank you

i died but im back now!! and yes. id love to steal that silly blue letterman RAH

-he was looking for his blue letterman like ALL over the place

-poor lad thought he lost it :(

-so he asked the gang, and when they immediately said they hadnt seen it, he KNEW something was up....

-his brett senses were tingling...

-so when he went to you, and saw YOU in HIS blue letterman he almost died

-like, he froze up for a moment, just watching you get coffee at like 2AM

-"brett.. are you okay?"

"YES I'M OKAY I AM PERFECTLY FINE-"

-then you realise that he's probably like... hopping off the WALLS from you wearing his jacket

-he's like,,, RED in the face by now

-looking like a tomato

-and you then tease him about it, which makes him even MORE red

-so in short, he'll go from white boy to tomato boy in 0.2 nanoseconds if you wear his letterman

-he might let you keep it

-he just might because you look amazing in it <3

#brett hand #brett hand x reader #inside job #reagan inside job #inside job brett #inside job gigi #bring inside job back #inside job netflix #inside job x reader #brett hand inside job #theres-a-starmaan #poo

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rubixcuby · 2 years ago

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Cant take my mind off my Bretty boy 😍💕

TW: bl00d!

#inside job #save inside job #brett hand #fanart #digital art #netflix #art #drawing #artists on tumblr #inside job brett #brett inside job #shadow government #conspiracy theories #reagan ridley #reagan x brett #breagan #brett x reagan #brett x reader

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hurlingsupport · 8 months ago

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Can we get a part two of Late-Afternoon Meting?! I need more fr

More Reagan!!!

"Late-Evening Date" (Reagan Ridley x Gender Neutral Reader One-shot)

<- Prequel

You tap the table in boredom, eyes searching the small restaurant for any sign of the woman you're waiting on. The cup of tea you had ordered was already emptied. However, you didn't ask for another in fear of filling yourself up before dinner. Well, not that the cups were very big in the first place. Maybe it wouldn't hurt?

You groan, leaning back in your chair in an attempt to pull yourself away from the idea. Where the hell is -

The doors to the restaurant burst open just as your mind wanders, a panicked woman's eyes meeting yours before she's running towards you. Her dress is nice, albeit a bit scratched up with some suspicious red stains. Her hair was down too, slight waves apparent now that it wasn't tied back.

"So, sorry. I, uh..." Reagan spared a glance down at herself, grimacing at her appearance. "I can, um, change? I don't really -"

"You look pretty." You interrupt, leaning your cheek against your hand as you look up at her. You watch her eyes widen, fingers fiddling with the gun in her hand.

"So... it's okay?" She's inching closer to the booth, although still reluctant.

"Yeah. You might want to put that away, though." You point towards the weapon in her hands, and it seems she only notices the fearful stares she's getting now that you're mentioning it.

"Oh my god," she curses, shoving it into her purse before taking a seat across from you. "I swear I meant to get here sooner. I got caught up in some things, and uh, as you can see, there were some disagreements."

She pauses, face pulling into a frown as yours continues to stare at her with a happy expression.

"Are you not angry?" She asks quietly.

"Reagan, we work at the same place." You remind her.

She holds her hands together awkwardly, looking around the restaurant for a waiter. "I know that, it's just..."

"Just what?" You implore, spotting a waiter and waving them over. You order a dish for yourself, looking towards Reagan as she orders something as well. Once the waiter leaves, Reagan's staring at you again.

"I mean, I haven't seen you lately." She admits, face reddening. "I know we're both full-grown adults,"

"Yeah."

"And I know we both have jobs to do, especially with Cognito Inc." Her eyes fall to the table.

"Mhm."

"But, uh, I missed you." She practically whispers.

"We talked yesterday, Reagan."

"Work conversations aren't really conversations." She insists.

"Well, I missed you too." Your hands grab hers, intertwining your fingers atop the table. "Next time we should do something at my place."

"What?" Reagan sputters.

"You wanted to replicate my style of robotics, didn't you? I have my blueprints at home, and we can work on it together." You beam at her.

"Oh! Right, of course." Her nervous smile disappears, replaced by a relaxed grin. "I'd - I'd love that."

"Me too." You respond, the two of you inching closer and closer, until -

"Did you want a refill on your tea?"

The both of you jump, falling back into your seats in surprise.

"Uh, yes, thank you." You smile timidly at the waiter.

"And, could I get a coffee, please?" Reagan adds.

The waiter leaves after writing your requests down, and a silence falls over the two of you.

"You look nice." Reagan's hands meet yours once more, rubbing your knuckles gently.

"Thanks." A smile stretches across your face as you watch Reagan fiddle with your hands.

It's a great dinner, despite the awkward moments where there was nothing to be said. However, given the giggles that would fall from your guys' lips every time that occurred, it didn't seem to mess up the evening too much. The night ends quicker than you expect it to, and before you know it, you're standing outside the restaurant with your coworker.

"Was your coffee good?" You ask suddenly because you never tried the coffee at this place. Not that you drank coffee much at all. Perhaps you were just interested in what Reagan had to say about it.

"I guess. I really just drink it for the caffeine, so the taste doesn't matter to me." She explains, pulling your jacket tighter against her chest. It was a little chilly out. "Was your tea good?"

You hum, taking a second or two to respond. "Yeah, I might have added too much sugar, though."

You're well aware of the fact that the both of you are stalling, but you don't mind. Your hand is held tightly in hers as the two of you lean against the wall of the building. You're not sure if there were busses this late.

"Are you -" Reagan pauses, brushing some stray strands of hair behind her ear. Her free hand messes with the strands, twisting and pulling anxiously. "Do you need a ride?"

Reagan, unlike you, has a car. You're probably supposed to be ashamed of it, but despite that, you thank yourself for your lack of free time giving you this chance.

"Yeah, thanks, Reagan." You squeeze her hand, walking with her as she makes her way towards the parked vehicle.

"Of course." She murmurs.

The ride is rather silent, but not awkwardly so. Your eyelids grow heavy as you sit in the passenger seat. You can see Reagan's tired as well, although more so due to her endeavors before the date. It's not long before she's pulling into your driveway, in fact, you don't even notice until she shakes your shoulders.

"We're here." She says quietly, and you're tempted to fall right back to sleep at the sound of her voice. However, you know Reagan's tired, and you'd hate to keep her awake for longer than she needs to be. Especially considering her streak of all-nighters.

You hum in response, sitting up and unbuckling your seatbelt. Your hand finds the handle of the door, but something within stops you from opening the door.

Turning back towards the driver's seat, you lean over the center console, grabbing onto it with one hand for stability and turning Reagan's head with your other hand.

"Can I kiss you?" You ask, eyes watching as Reagan's shocked expression morphs into a more serene one.

"Yeah." Her words are muffled as she leans forward sooner than they escape her.

It's short, more than you'd like it to be, but the sweetness that comes with it makes up for it. Well, in reality, the kiss was quite bitter. You could taste the remnants of Reagan's coffee, the earthy taste lingering on your tongue as you both pull away. Despite this, you can't help but feel it's the sweetest kiss you've had.

"You definitely added too much sugar." Reagan laughs, leaning in closer, yet not allowing your lips to meet.

A snicker escapes you, "Reagan," you call with a smile.

She meets your eyes, her gaze intense from your proximity. "Yeah?"

"Don't forget to give my jacket back to me tomorrow." You softly tug on the fabric, and Reagan takes the chance to lean even closer.

"If I do forget, will you come to my place?" You can feel the smile on her lips as they meet yours.

"With your dad there? Hell no." You laugh, pushing her back when she tries to wrap her arms around you.

"I can kick him out." She offers, hands latching onto your shirt.

"Reagan." You warn, but it comes off as playful with the laughter falling from your mouth.

"Fine! Your house then?" Her words are met with a groan as you finally escape her grasp and open the passenger door.

You lean down before closing it, giving the woman a smile. "Bye, Reagan."

She holds a similar smile, although it's certainly more nervous than yours. "Bye."

With that, you close the door, waving her goodbye until her car is completely out of your sight. Once it is, you make your way towards your door, unlock it, and throw your shoes off as soon as it closes behind you. Normally, you'd brush your teeth before going to bed, but you feel as if you're going to collapse in exhaustion.

So instead, you plop onto your bed, still in your formal clothes, and drift off. You're probably going to hate yourself in the morning for it, but at least they're work appropriate. Plus, now you have a totally professional conversation with Reagan to look forward to.

#gender neutral reader #reader insert #x reader #inside job #inside job x reader #reagan ridley x reader #reagan ridley #one shot

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maleposting · 2 years ago

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this is a rare moment in which i think abo straight cis white couples.. .

im thinking about them. mabe a bit to much but is ok. ill be fine. ill exis.t. i think i m very normal.

#inside job ron staedtler #inside job ron #ron staedtler #ron staedtler inside job #ron inside job #ron x reagan #ron staedtler x reader #ron staedtler x reagan #inside job reagan #reagan x ron #reagan inside job #inside job netflix #inside job fanart #inside job

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countrymusiclover · 6 months ago

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18 - Cooper Baby Video

Part 19

It’s About Time

Tags just ask - @lover-of-books-and-tea @bvbwestfall @bubble-bluee @liesanddreams @bethanymccauley @skeletonontheroad @ashsallyblue2 @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @herondale-lightworm @afraidofshrimp

Sitting on the couch I flipped through the channels we had on the TV. I leaned back on the cossins hearing the back door creak opened with Georgie coming around the corner with his keys and a bag from the grocery store. “I'm pretty sure the lady at the register recognized me cause she sent me a weird look that I was buying these.”

“Did you get'em like I asked though.” I asked him holding my arms open tired of waiting.

He reached inside the bag tossing the bag into my hands. “Calm down. I actually bought two bags and ice cream with three different flavors.”

“Oh yeah.” I moaned, popping some of the food inside the bag into my mouth.

He listed the flavors sitting down beside me, pulling out the tub of ice cream. “It's chocolate, vanilla and pink.”

“These are so good.” I mumbled with food in my mouth watching him begin to eat some of the ice cream.

The back door opened again where we saw Missy coming in carrying her backpack on her shoulders but halted until she saw me and Georgie sitting on the couch. “Y/n, are you eating pickles?”

“Maybe.” I reached my hand inside the jar.

She made a confused expression towards me. “But you hate them.”

“I know.”

Missy sat her backpack on the ground and joined us in the middle between us. “Why are you eating them if you hate them?”

“Because I can't stop the cravings!”

Missy made a face at me realizing what that meant. “Oh my god. You're pregnant aren't you?”

“We only slept together one time.”

Slapping myself in the face I moaned with my face turning red like a tomato with him just blurting that out. “Georgie.”

“So you really are pregnant. What's it like?” She asked focusing her whole attention on me.

Shoving my hand back inside the jar I ate two more pickles gagging at the taste until I swallowed them and they somehow tasted better. “Forcing your body to eat food you hate and making you enjoy them while your brain keeps saying you hate them!”

“Have you told your parents yet?” His sister asked.

Lowering my gaze to the pickle jar knowing we needed to tell them and Georgie’s parents before I wasn’t able to hide the fact that I was carrying his baby. “Neither of our parents know. It’s only you and Connie who know about the baby.”

“Does that mean I shouldn’t tell the guys?” Georgie brought up our friends.

“Ashley and Hannah may already know…before I told you at the cabin.”

He touched my knee gently. “Look I ain’t gonna be mad about them knowing before me. But we can tell them together. Heck, they could join our runaway gang.”

“You’re gonna run away?” Missy asked me.

Sitting the jar down on the table I remembered the video camera we had bought thinking it would be as good of time as any to film it for us to watch years later. “Let’s talk about something else. I’ve been reading the instructions on how to film the video. Come on Missy, we could use your help.”

“Can I wear my princess dress in the video?” She asked with a hopeful tone.

“Maybe at the end of the video.”

The three of us got everything set up in the living room with me and my best friend seated down on the couch. Missy was standing behind the camera stand and gave a thumbs up telling us we were rolling. “Hey baby girl or boy, I’m your dad and that’s your mommy who I love so much. So please don’t hurt her too much when she has to deliver you.”

“Georgie!” I scolded covering my face blushing deeply embarrassed by what he had just said.

He shrugged his shoulders, throwing his hands down in his lap. “What! There’s a movie at the video store that told me about childbirth.”

“Gross.” Missy gagged holding the camera, pointing it at us.

Clearing my throat I tucked hair behind my ear trying to push the awakeness of what he had just said away so we could make an appropriate video. “Anyway, Georgie is your daddy and I am your mommy. We are a little scared to be teen parents but really excited to meet you in nine months. And-“

“And I’m your fun Aunt Missy!” Missy suddenly jumped in the middle between the two of us, wrapping her arms around each of us.

Georgie laughed and I snorted out a laugh getting up and hitting the end recording button. “Yes, she’s your aunt Missy. Baby girl or boy.”

It was a couple days later when I had come home from school about to take out one of my notebooks to begin my homework. “Y/n, is there something you want to tell us?” My mothers voice came into the kitchen.

“Um, school was pretty good.”

She put her hands on her hips. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Can I ask what you’re asking about then?”

My father stomped around the corner shoving a video tape against my chest a little harsher than I expected. “Explain this tape that says you’re pregnant and didn’t think to tell us!”

“I - I - how did you find this?” I stutter out so taken back in shock.

My mother throws her hands down at her sides clearly just as frustrated as my father at that moment. “Mrs. Cooper thought this was one of the movies we rented and returned it back to us. We didn’t remember the name on it so we watched it to find that betrayal on it!”

“Look you guys, I’m sorry. I - we were going to tell you. I just didn’t know how you were going to react and this is what I was afraid of.”

My father raised his tone asking. “Who’s the father?”

“It’s Geor“ I cut myself short hearing the front door open and my boyfriend walk inside.

“Hey, anybody home?”

Rushing to the living room I knew I had fear written all over my face when I blurted out. “Georgie, you have to go right now. It really isn’t a good time. So just go before-“

“Mr. Cooper, can we talk for a minute?” My father came around the corner.

Georgie nodded, not understanding my worries. “Of course. What are we talkin’ about, Mr. L/n?”

“Tell me that I am lying and that you aren’t the boy who knocked up my seventeen year old daughter.” Georgie gulped, glancing my way finally seeing why I was nearly as white as a ghost. Because we for sure were so in trouble.

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bunnist4rz · 4 months ago

Text

BREAKING THE CYCLE; REGAN RIDLEY

synopsis; Reagan, overwhelmed by her work at Cognito and her need for perfection, begins to push away her partner, who notices her burnout. Despite their attempts to reconnect, Reagan’s obsession with control strains their relationship, culminating in an argument where Reagan lashes out. Realizing her mistake too late, Reagan grapples with guilt and reaches out with an apology. The next day, Reagan visits her partner, expressing vulnerability and admitting her fears of imperfection. Her partner reassures her, emphasizing the importance of emotional openness, and together, they decide to work through their struggles. word count; 1.1k content; regan ridley/reader, f!reader, coworker/coworker, set in canon au, angst to fluff, ambivert/introvert a/n; I'm so sleepy right now it's not even funny but I decided to pump this out at 2 am I'm crying this is insane but um yeah pretty fanfiction for my pretty wife I LOVE HER :333

The familiar buzz of Cognito’s control room filled the air as Reagan typed furiously on her console, the harsh glow of her monitor casting an eerie blue light across her face. She’d been consumed by her work for days—maybe weeks now—managing crises, chasing anomalies, and ensuring the shadow government didn’t fall apart. Deadlines loomed as a new project spiraled out of control, and her perfectionism had trapped her in an unrelenting cycle. The scent of stale coffee and static electricity hung in the air, a constant companion to the suffocating pressure she felt.

Across the room, You sat nursing a cold cup of tea. Your usually upbeat demeanor had dimmed over the past few days as you watched your workaholic girlfriend spiral deeper into her work obsession. Her eyes were rimmed with exhaustion, her smile mechanical, and her laughter—the rare instances of it—lacked the warmth it once held. You recognized the signs all too well: she was burning herself out again. But whenever you tried to intervene, she’d wave you off, muttering her favorite refrain, "Just a few more minutes, doll. I’ve got this."

As You looked out the window, the sudden crash of thunder caught your attention. Rain started to splatter against the tall windows of the underground base, a storm brewing above the surface. It felt symbolic, mirroring the tension that had been building between them. Reagan was always so focused on saving the world, but she couldn’t see that her own well-being was crumbling right in front of her.

You stood from your seat, heart pounding, and made your way toward her desk. "Babe, you’re working too hard. You need to step away for a bit," you said softly, trying not to push too hard. But her eyes didn’t leave the screen.

"I’m fine," Reagan replied, her voice void of its usual snark. "Just a little more to do."

Your shoulders slumped. You could hear the exhaustion woven into her words, feel the distance growing between them. You've tried to be patient, understanding, but it was like talking to a wall. You loved how brilliant she was, how fiercely she fought for what she believed in, but lately, she was fighting alone—and it was hurting you both.

"Reagan," You tried again, this time reaching out to touch her hand. She flinched as if your touch had burned her.

"Not now!" Her voice cut through the room like a whip, sharp and cold. Reagan finally looked up at you, and in her gaze, you saw not only frustration but the storm of emotions she had been bottling up. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the soft patter of rain on the glass. You just—stared at her, stunned, and slowly withdrew your hand, stepping back.

Reagan blinked, as if realizing how harshly she’d reacted. "I—I'm sorry," she whispered, but it was too late. Your expression had already shifted, a mixture of hurt and resignation.

"It’s fine," you muttered, but it wasn’t fine, and you both knew it. You turned to leave, feeling the weight of the conversation—or lack of one—settling on your shoulders. You didn’t want to give up on her, but how could you keep reaching out when she refused to let you in?

Reagan watched you leave, her heart sinking as the door hissed shut behind you. She knew she had hurt you. She always knew. But there was this gnawing feeling inside her, an irrational need to stay in control of everything. It wasn’t just the job—it was proving herself to her father, to everyone who had ever doubted her. She felt trapped in this endless loop, unable to stop even when she knew she should. And now, it was costing her the one person who understood her.

The control room felt colder as she gathered her things, stepping out into the rain. The storm aboveground drenched her immediately, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t escape the suffocating guilt that clung to her. It wasn’t the first time her work had come between them, but it was the first time Brett had looked at her with such disappointment.

By the time she reached her apartment, Reagan was soaked, her mind still reeling from the day’s events. She collapsed on the couch, staring at her phone, debating whether or not to call you. What would she even say? That she was sorry? Sorry for pushing you away again?

She left a voicemail instead, her voice trembling. "Look… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just… I don’t know how to stop sometimes." She hung up, staring at the phone, willing it to ring—but it didn’t. The empty silence was all that answered.

Hours passed in a blur. Reagan’s apartment, once a place of comfort, now felt like a prison. She poured herself a drink, but it didn’t ease the ache in her chest. It wasn’t the world-ending crises that kept her awake that night; it was the growing gap between her and the love of her life, a gap she feared might be too wide to cross.

The next morning, Reagan couldn’t take it anymore. She drove to your place, the rain having subsided, leaving the city slick and fresh, but Reagan didn’t feel fresh. She felt like she was on the verge of breaking. When she knocked on your door, she could hear her heartbeat in her ears, each second feeling like an eternity.

When you finally opened the door, your expression was guarded. Your eyes were tired, but there was no anger—only sadness.

"Reagan," you said softly.

"I screwed up," she blurted, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "I pushed you away, again, and I shouldn’t have. I just… I don’t know how to do this. How to balance everything and still be… us." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she hated herself for how vulnerable she sounded.

Your expression softened, and you stepped aside, letting her in. "It’s not about you doing everything perfectly," you said as she sat down at your kitchen table. "It’s about you letting me in. We’re a team, Reagan. I care about you, and I just want you to let me help."

Reagan looked down at her hands, wringing them together. "I don’t know how to stop," she admitted. "I’m always so afraid that if I’m not perfect, everything will fall apart."

You reached across the table, gently taking her hands in your own. "You don’t have to be perfect, Reagan. Not with me." Your voice was soft but steady, and it gave her a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in days. "I just need you to be present. To let me in, instead of shutting me out every time things get hard."

Reagan’s eyes welled up, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself feel the weight of her mistakes. "I’m sorry," she whispered. "I’ll try. I’ll try to be better for us."

You gave her a small smile, squeezing her hand gently. "That’s all I ask."

As they sat together in the quiet of your apartment, the storm outside had passed. And though there were still challenges ahead—at Cognito and in their relationship—for the first time, Reagan felt like they could weather them together.