|| diapers, danger, and… a kiss?
summary: tasha stopped by to give you and chase a task: to babysit his 11 month old younger sister. obviously, you said yes. she’s stinking adorable. however, the newfound ‘domesticness’ between you and chase committing this deed has him acting in ways you’ve never seen before. he’s always teased you—for that’s been his favorite hobby since becoming a team—but he’s never been so… hands-on. how will he react when you begin to return the favor?
word count: 3.1k+
a/n: this is lowercase intended. there is a chase davenports fanfic shortage, and i’m here to solve that. also, i made a janitor bot based on this fic, lmk if you’d like it!
warnings: eliteforce!chase, 3 uses of y/n, oliver being a bit of a cockblock (for a kiss, that will still be shared), lots of fluff
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the morning light filters into the penthouse kitchen, soft and golden, casting long shadows over the sleek countertops. the smell of bacon sizzles in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee. naomi, settled comfortably in her high chair, babbles happily, smacking her tiny hands against the colorful toys in front of her.
you focus on whisking the eggs, determined to make breakfast without burning anything. it’s the first proper meal you’re making as a babysitter, and if you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it right.
and everything is peaceful—until it’s not.
you hear him before you see him, his slow, deliberate footsteps announcing his presence. then, warmth. arms sliding around your waist, a breath against your neck, a low, teasing hum as chase leans in way too close.
“smells good,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. “but i think you’re missing something.”
your grip tightens on the whisk, your shoulders tensing as you try—try—to focus on the eggs instead of the way his breath grazes your skin.
“you know,” he continues, voice maddeningly smooth, “if you’re going to cook for naomi, you might want to make sure you don’t burn the bacon.”
“yeah? well, maybe i’d be a better cook if i didn’t have a bionic nuisance breathing down my neck,” you retort, bumping your hip back against him in a weak attempt to push him away. hands occupied. unfortunate. “and for your information, naomi likes her bacon a little crispy.”
you pour the eggs onto the pan with a satisfying sizzle, flipping the bacon with practiced ease. “you’re supposed to be watching naomi, by the way.” you glance over your shoulder at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. “you know, your little sister? the one you were told to watch?… ring a bell?”
chase tilts his head, giving you the most infuriatingly innocent look. “i am watching her.”
you follow his gaze to naomi, who’s happily chewing on one of her toys, completely unbothered. you shoot him a deadpan stare.
he smirks, raising his hands in mock surrender. “technically, i was watching both of you.”
“that’s not—” you cut yourself off with a groan, turning back to the stove before you actually throw the whisk at his stupid, smug face.
chase, ever the instigator, moves toward naomi, booping her nose with the tip of his finger. she giggles, grabbing onto him with surprising strength, and chase chuckles. “see? she’s happy. excellent babysitting skills, if i do say so myself.”
“you don’t say so,” you mutter under your breath, flipping the bacon with a little more force than necessary.
he leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with that mix of amusement and something else—something warmer—that makes it very hard to concentrate.
“you’re really not helping,” you grumble.
“not true.” he gestures vaguely toward the food. “moral support.”
you roll your eyes, reaching for a plate. “maybe if you actually wanted to help, you could—i don’t know—help?”
he smirks, like he’s considering it, but ultimately stays where he is. you can feel him watching you, and the warmth creeping up your neck only fuels your annoyance.
“whatever,” you mutter more-so to yourself, “i can handle this on my own, thanks.”
you turn back to the stupid stove, determined to ignore him, but then his stupid, stupid grin catches your eye again, and you can’t help it—the frustration bubbles up.
chase laughs, that warm, infuriating sound, and you feel your cheeks flush as he watches you, eyes sharp with amusement. he pushes off the counter, stepping closer, that smirk never leaving his face.
“handle it on your own?” he teases, voice dripping with sarcasm. “i wouldn’t dream of getting in the way of your… culinary adventures.”
his tone is playful, but there’s something else, something softer underneath it, something that pulls him closer. it’s a weird mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite put your finger on.
“besides,” he adds, with a casual flick of his hand, “i thought we made a great team.” he pops a piece of bacon into his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. “don’t tell me you’re already tired of me.”
you expect to snap back at him, roll your eyes, shove him away. but instead, something shifts. the air between you thickens, and suddenly, it’s not just about annoyance.
with a slow grin, you lean in, your voice dropping. “no, baby,” you whisper teasingly, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine.
his entire body locks up.
your hand is on his face, fingers gentle against his skin, your touch like nothing he’s ever felt before. his breath stutters, his heart slamming against his ribs as you stand on your toes and press the softest kiss to his cheek.
his stomach drops. his mind blanks.
he’s never been kissed like this before. never been touched like this before. or… in general, for that matter.
he doesn’t even realize he’s stopped breathing until you pull away, your lips curling into a mock smile.
“i’m not tired of having you around,” you say, your voice light, teasing. then your eyes darken, and you add, “you’re just really annoying right now.”
he swears his knees almost give out.
he barely hears your next words over the blood rushing in his ears, over the phantom burn of your lips against his cheek.
“you actually want to help?” you ask, amusement dancing in your voice.
chase swallows, forcing himself to recover, to move, to do anything besides stand there like a short-circuited robot.
he reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek a second too long.
“i do,” he murmurs, and for once, there’s no teasing in his voice. “i know i can be… much. but i want to help. i want to be here. for you. for naomi.” his throat bobs as he swallows hard. “let me prove i’m not just a distraction.”
he turns away before he can do something reckless—like pull you closer, like beg you to say baby again—and grabs a plate instead, using his enhanced speed to help with breakfast. but even as he works, his eyes keep drifting back to you, to the way the morning light catches in your hair, to the way your lips twitch when you think he’s not looking.
he’s so completely, entirely screwed.
“so, tell me,” he says, forcing some of his usual cockiness back into his voice. “what can this annoying annoyance do to assist his favorite agent?” he smirks, tilting his head. “and please, don’t say ‘be less annoying.’ even my genius intellect might not be able to manage that feat.”
you let out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you shut off the stove and move the hot pan aside.
“then i’ve got nothing,” you say, shaking your head.
he presses his lips together in an exaggerated, silent plea. you sigh, crossing your arms.
“fine. i guess you could feed naomi while i clean up the toy mess she made by the couch.”
chase perks up instantly, smirk returning. “ah, so you’re delegating the boring tasks to the genius bionic human? how original.” but he’s already moving toward naomi, scooping her up with ease. “feeding a cute baby? i can handle that.”
naomi babbles happily as he grabs a jar of baby food—some unidentifiable green mush—and scoops a spoonful toward her mouth. she takes it eagerly, clapping her tiny hands together.
chase, however, wrinkles his nose. “mmm. gourmet fare,” he mutters, making a face. “not quite five-star, but i suppose it’s better than the pellets back home.”
he glances over at you as you begin tidying the living room, watching the way you move, the way you tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
he doesn’t even realize he’s staring until naomi smacks his face with her tiny, sticky hand.
yeah. he’s definitely screwed.
you roll your eyes, but it’s not with the same frustration as before. his teasing is getting to you, but there’s something about the way he picks up naomi that softens the mood.
you watch as he spoons the mushy peas into her mouth, making a face at the taste.
“gourmet fare, huh? is that what we’re calling it now?” you tease, feeling your irritation melt away a little.
as you tidy up the living room, you keep glancing over at them. the way chase holds naomi so naturally, the way he makes light of the situation, makes everything seem… easier. oddly comforting. you catch yourself smiling without even realizing it.
you can’t deny it—something about the way chase is acting, so carefree and surprisingly good with naomi, is making you feel less aggravated and more… peaceful.
why are you so surprised? you ask yourself. chase was bragging about how he downloaded hundreds of childcare books during his high school days in order to take care of a robotic baby… that his brother ended up ruining… but it didn’t matter because he claimed to have still gotten a better grade.
a d-, rather than an f like adam.
however, chase knew how to take care of a baby—and well, at that.
looking over your shoulder, you take a moment to watch him. he presses a gentle kiss to naomi’s forehead, immediately calming her whines about the green mush she’s being forced to eat. your smile curves before you can stop it. if you had a bionic hard drive, you’d be saving this memory forever.
“you know, i’m glad tasha let us watch her,” you say suddenly, tossing naomi’s blocks back into the toy bag. “so far, oliver, kaz—and even you—haven’t found some scientific way to mess anything up. this is really… nice.”
chase looks up at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he bounces naomi gently on his knee. she giggles.
“nice, huh?” he echoes, clearly satisfied with the praise.
you roll your eyes at his reaction, but you can’t help but smile.
“i have to admit, i’m rather enjoying this myself,” he says, looking down at the baby in his arms. “though i suspect ‘nice’ isn’t a word often associated with my name.”
“yeah, usually it’s buzz kill,” you laugh, causing him to shoot you a ‘haha, very funny’ type look.
he tickles naomi’s chin, making her squeal with laughter. “i guess even geniuses have their humane side.” he whispers, a smile tugging at his lips. “especially when it comes to adorable babies and their gorgeous caretakers.”
your stomach flips at the way he says it, but before you can react, he glances back at you with a smirk.
“maybe we make a pretty good team after all,” he murmurs, his voice steady, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—hesitation, maybe even nerves. “at least outside of the lab and field missions.”
then, standing up with naomi still cradled securely in his arms, he walks over to you. you catch the way he shifts his weight, the way his fingers tighten ever so slightly around naomi’s tiny frame—like he needs something to hold onto.
his gaze meets yours, but this time, there’s something different. the usual calculated confidence is there, but underneath it, you can see it—the uncertainty, the way he’s carefully measuring each word before he says it.
“so, now that you’ve admitted i’m not a total disaster at this,” he starts, clearing his throat, “maybe i could, uh… impress you in other ways? like… i don’t know, a proper date sometime?”
his voice dips at the end, like he’s bracing for impact.
“if not i totally understand,” he finds it hard to stop talking. “we can forget i asked if you want to—“ he stops himself, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, and you can’t help but watch as the usual confident smirk on his face falters into something almost vulnerable.
“i mean, that was dumb,” he adds quickly, and you can tell he’s kicking himself for even asking. “forget i said anything.”
you raise an eyebrow, letting the words hang between you, watching as he shifts just slightly—just enough to betray the fact that he’s not as sure of himself as he wants to be.
“was me not kissing your cheek and calling you that silly little pet name not hint enough that i’d love to go out with you?”
his smirk twitches, falters. his lips part, but no words come out at first. you can practically see the gears turning, his brain scrambling for a response—he’s never done this before, never been the one putting himself out there like this.
he exhales, blinking a little too quickly, and you bite back a smile.
got him.
before he can respond, footsteps sound behind you. when you turn, oliver is standing in the doorway. his eyes widen as he takes in the scene, mouth opening slightly before he takes a step back.
“woah,” he says, hands shooting up like he’s trying to create an invisible barrier between you. “back up a minute.”
you bite back a laugh, but oliver isn’t amused. he looks serious, and you can feel his judgment already settling in.
“the other day,” oliver starts, pointing at you before gesturing toward chase, “you told me dating a teammate is trouble.”
chase blinks. “and?”
“and now you’re doing just that!” he exclaims. “you told me i shouldn’t keep asking skylar out because it’d mess with the team dynamic. and now—look at you!”
his frustration grows as he steps closer, wagging a finger between you and chase. “you literally lectured me about this, and now you’re out here making heart eyes at each other?!”
chase, unimpressed, adjusts naomi in his arms. “oliver, i appreciate your concern, but y/n and i are a different situation entirely.”
“oh, really?” oliver scoffs, crossing his arms. “how so?”
chase looks at you, his gaze softening. “for one, she actually returns my interest.”
oliver stares blankly. “ouch.”
“and,” chase continues, smirking slightly, “y/n and i are better suited to each other. we work well together, both professionally and… personally.”
oliver makes a face, unimpressed. “yeah, well, well...” he gestures between you two, before getting stuck. “well, i’ve got nothing…”
you sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “oliver, it’s not what you think.” your voice softens. “i know it’s unexpected, but i… i trust chase.”
chase shoots you a quick, reassuring smile before turning back to oliver, confidence returning to his expression.
“we’ve handled elite force missions. i think we can handle this,” chase says.
oliver isn’t convinced. “i just don’t want to see this blow up in our faces.”
“relax, oliver,” you say, firm but understanding. “we’ve got this. it’s not going to mess with the team.”
he gives you a long look before sighing dramatically. “you better hope you’re right.” he mutters before heading upstairs.
chase watches him go, then turns back to you, a triumphant glint in his eyes.
“see?” he murmurs, adjusting naomi in his arms as she coos softly. “he just needs time to adjust, and soon, they all will adjust.”
you exhale slowly, reaching out to brush naomi’s cheek. “i hope you’re right.” your voice is quieter now, more thoughtful. “i don’t want anything to come between us. the team, the mission—it’s all so important. and now, well… there’s us, too.”
chase steps closer, brushing his arm against yours.
“y/n, i know this is new,” he says, his voice steady, certain. “but i’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. you and me—we’re a team. in every sense of the word.”
his free hand cups your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. his thumb brushes lightly over your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.
his gaze flicks down to your mouth before locking onto your eyes, darkening with something deeper—something that makes it impossible to look away.
“i promise you, y/n,” his voice is barely above a whisper, “i won’t let anything come between us. the team, the mission… they’ll always be a priority. but now, i’m fighting for us, too.”
your breath catches. he’s close now, his presence wrapping around you like something warm and steady.
naomi giggles in his arms, breaking the moment just enough for you to remember how to breathe.
your heart pounds as you try to find the right words. “chase, this—this is a lot.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.
his thumb lingers on your lips, his touch gentle. he makes everything feel both exciting and safe at the same time.
“just promise me we’ll take it slow?” you whisper. “i’m not sure what this is yet, but… i don’t want to mess it up.”
chase’s eyes soften, and his hand moves to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
“whatever you need,” he says. “as long as we’re in this together.”
“together,” you whisper, your gaze locking with his, finding something raw in his eyes, something unspoken. his hand hovers near yours, fingers trembling slightly, like he’s afraid to make the first move, but wants to so badly.
you close the distance, your heartbeat quickening as you lean in. his breath catches, a little shaky, as his lips brush yours. it’s soft at first—his kiss unsure but warm, like he’s learning the rhythm. his hands move, almost instinctively, to cup your face, pulling you closer, as if he’s starved for this moment, for the closeness.
he pulls away just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours, shaky exhale mixing with yours. “i… i’ve never—” he starts, voice rough, but you don’t give him a chance to finish.
you kiss him again, a little deeper this time, and he responds almost desperately, like he’s been holding back, unsure if he could ever get this close. his hands roam to your back, pulling you in tightly, a quiet, almost needy sound escaping him.
he’s not perfect, but it’s real. he’s there, fully present, and for the first time in a long time, you both feel like you’ve found something worth fighting for.
