𝐂𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐖: established relationship, found family, discussion of child neglect and abortion
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You bring home an abandoned baby from the Undercity, and Jayce helps you raise her, only to later uncover the tragic past she carries.
Jayce wasn’t new to sleepless nights. Back in his Academy days, when he was a determined student, he’d pull all-nighters in his lab, buried in research and study materials.
It was easy to lose track of time when you were working on something that consumed your whole world. Occasionally, he would fall asleep on his workbench, head resting on an open book or a half-finished blueprint.
But he never thought he’d be running on fumes because of a baby— let alone one he never expected to come home to.
The tiny bundle you have found thrust in the forefront of his mind. Hope.
The name still felt new on his tongue, but it already had a grip on him. He couldn’t shake off the guilt of his initial hesitation, the way he seemed so unsure to take responsibility. And yet, when he held her for the first time, joy he had never felt welled up inside him.
What was it you said earlier today? Paternal instincts?
It couldn’t be that. No.
Sure, he felt protective of her. And there was something else too— something primal, something deeper.
But calling it paternal? A fatherly instinct for a baby he barely knew? That was a stretch. Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe he was just tired.
He was tired.
Hope had woken up crying throughout the night, her small but persistent wails pulled him out of his sleep again and again. You would always be the one to soothe her, whisper soft reassurance in the dim light of the bedroom. Yet still, he hadn't got any rest.
“Jayce.”
Viktor's voice echoed, but it didn’t register.
“Jayce,” he repeated, sharper. “Are you listening?”
He jolted upright, dragging a hand down his face. He had been so lost in thought, so focused on keeping himself together, that he hadn't even realised Viktor was speaking.
“Er, yeah. Sorry, I was just…thinking about the upcoming project,” he said, scrambling for an excuse. He shifted in his chair, hoping Viktor wouldn’t notice the exhaustion etched in his face and the deepened shadows beneath his eyes.
But Viktor had known him for years. And Viktor was nothing if not perceptive, even as he stood a few feet away in the lab.
“You look terrible,” he said dryly, though the concern was beneath the sarcasm. “Are you getting any sleep at all?”
“I’m fine, I just…have a lot on my plate right now.”
Viktor’s gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. He stepped closer, the slow taps of his cane hitting the floor, and tilted his head.
“A lot on your plate?” he echoed. “Since when does that include sleepless nights and looking like you’ve wrestled with a storm.”
Jayce exhaled through his nose, glancing away. He should’ve listened to you when you told him to take a nap before leaving the house.
Instead, he insisted he was fine. Now, with Viktor clearly seeing through him, he was starting to regret it.
Viktor crossed the room and took a seat, resting his cane on the workbench. “You can’t pour from an empty cup, Jayce. You need to rest if you want to stay productive,” his voice grew softer, lacking his sarcasm from earlier.
“I know, I know,” Jayce sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s so much to do. And there’s the project.”
“And is there…anything else?”
Jayce paused.
It wasn’t because he didn’t trust Viktor— far from it. He trusted him with his life, especially after Viktor had saved his.
But this was different. Hope was something monumental, something that could shift the course of his life before he’d even have the chance to fully process it himself.
A decision like this— taking in a child and raising her— wasn’t just something he could drop in a conversation, not when he hadn’t even kept his own family in the loop— his mother.
And there was a risk. If the wrong person caught wind of it, if whispers started to circulate through the Piltover’s elites, it could put his position as a Councillor in jeopardy.
Or worse, put you at risk of danger. People would talk, they always did. He needed to keep this under wraps for now.
“It’s just stress…I’ll be alright,” Jayce finally said, forcing a small dismissive shrug.
Viktor didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he switched the subject, tilting his head slightly.
“You haven’t been taking your work home with you, have you?”
Jayce huffed a quiet laugh. “You know she won’t let me do that.”
“Yes. That is true.” Viktor’s lips tugged in amusement. “She does keep you in check.”
Jayce smiled at that. You did, in more ways than one.
“But Progress Day is not too far,” he continued, his voice returning to its usual pragmatic tone. “And we still have a great deal to finish.”
“Right…Progress Day.”
Piltover’s Progress Day— a grand celebration of innovation and advancement. A day filled with fairs, games, and speeches about the future.
It was a month away, but it loomed in Jayce’s mind like a ticking clock. He had even been appointed by Heimerdinger to give a speech once, before he met you.
You had never attended, though. Even after you and Jayce got together, you had been reluctant. He understood why— growing up in the Undercity, an event celebrating Piltover’s greatness didn’t hold the same meaning for you.
And though he would never prod the issue, he had always wished, just once, that you’d go with him.
Would you go this year? He doubted it. Not with Hope now in your care. And even if you decided you wanted to, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk it. The last thing he wanted was people asking questions.
His thoughts drifted back to you and Hope.
What were you doing right now? Was Hope fed, warm, and happy? Of course she was, she had you. You had already done this for two days alone before he even stepped in.
But how long until the real weight of it truly settled in?
Because he could already feel it— the responsibilities, the sheer enormity of it pressing on his chest, even here in his lab. The realisation that this wasn’t just a temporary decision, or a passing moment that will settle back to normalcy.
This will spin your relationship off its axis.
And once that feeling caught up to you, what then? Or had it already hit you, and you were calm and collected for the baby’s sake?
The thought lingered, as the hours dragged on. Time felt sluggish, each minute seemed to stretch into eternity. His body running on empty, exhaustion creeping into every fibre of his being. As much as he loved his lab— his work and the hum of innovation— he wanted nothing more than to go home.
His eyes burned with fatigue, his vision slightly blurring on the edge. But he pushed through and kept his hands steady as he tried to solder a delicate circuit.
The one task that usually felt routine suddenly felt like wrestling with uncooperative materials. Every wire and connection resisted him.
By the time the sun had started to set, casting an orange glow through the towering windows, Jayce knew he had done all he could for the day. He packed up, locking the room behind him, and finally made his way home.
~
The sight that greeted him when he stepped inside was one he was going to have to get used to now— not that he was complaining. The house was enveloped in a peaceful atmosphere, the kind that settled in his bones with a new newfound beacon that was waiting for him.
You sat curled up on the couch, cradling Hope in your arms, your arms angled protectively around her. She squirmed against your chest, her hands twitching in her sleep. The warmth of the moment settled into him.
This was real.
His home. His family.
He could already imagine the room filled with toys scattered across the floor— that’s if it gets to that stage.
He stepped closer, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips before his eyes fell back on the baby.
“I was just about to feed her before putting her to bed,” you said softly, careful not to disturb Hope.
Jayce studied the baby for a moment, before looking back at you. “Let me do it.”
“You sure? Aren’t you tired?”
“I am,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I still want to bond with Hope.”
It was the truth. He was tired and his body was begging to flop onto bed. But the pull he felt earlier was there again and it was stronger than ever.
He wasn’t just doing this because it was expected of him. He wanted to do this.
You handed Hope to him carefully, watching as he adjusted her in his arms with growing ease. His movements were still shaky, but he was learning— slowly. You rose from the couch and headed to the kitchen, leaving him to hold her close to his chest.
Jayce followed, eyes flickered between you and Hope as you prepared her bottle. When you handed it to him, he returned to the couch, settling into the cushions as he carefully guided the bottle to her mouth.
Just like last time, she hesitated at first, her tiny lips parting but not latching on. He tried to mimic the way he had seen you do it again, remembering to be patient.
After a few attempts, she finally started feeding, her delicate fingers twitching against his hand. For someone so small, her presence was already changing everything and was making her way in his heart.
Her eyes fluttered open again, greyish-silver irises meeting his own for the briefest moment. The colour struck him.
Who had she inherited that from? Her mother? Her father? The thought unsettled him in a way he had expected.
Hope's gaze drifted elsewhere, still unfocused, but when her eyes landed on him again, something in his chest tightened. Even if she didn’t fully understand the world around her yet, he could feel her quiet trust, the silent dependency.
“I’ve been thinking…” he started, still unsure how to express what was on his mind.
You glanced up from where you sat besides him. “Go on.”
“It’s about Hope’s parents.” He frowned slightly, shifting his hold on her. “Do you know anything about them at all? Why they abandon her?”
The thought had always crossed his mind from the moment you brought her home, but now it gnawed at him. The more he held her, the more he saw the little details that made her unique— the soft curls of her fingers, the way her nose scrunched slightly as she fed, the quiet sigh she let out between sucks.
You sighed, fiddling with your fingers on your lap. You didn’t meet his gaze but your expression held a hint of melancholy. As if the question was difficult to answer.
“My guess is as good as yours, Jayce. I found her in a box with the note, that’s it. No name, not explanation, nothing…”
Jayce's jaws tightened as he looked back at the baby in his arms and the situation she was forced into. Hope suckled at the bottle, completely oblivious to the weight of the conversation around her. That only made it worse.
“I don’t understand why anybody would do this to her,” he said, voice thick with a quiet rage. “She didn’t deserve to be left like that.”
“I know…” you murmured. “But I’m sure her mother had her reasons, even if nothing excuses this.”
“Maybe,” Jayce conceded. “Or maybe they never planned on having her at all. But things changed…and this was the only option they thought they had.”
The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. It made him sick to even consider that possibility— that Hope was never wanted to begin with.
For a while, the only sound in the room was the quiet suckling of the bottle, her breaths steady against her chest.
Jayce spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Do you think she was purposely left to die?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But whoever left her behind, they still put a note with her. That must mean something, right?”
Jayce wasn’t sure. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was an afterthought. Maybe it was just a meaningless scrap of paper to show some consideration.
“Do you think we’ll ever find out?” he asked.
“About her parents?”
Jayce nodded.
“I don’t know…and honestly, I’m not too sure if knowing will make things better or worse.”
Your words sent a cold chill down his spine. But you were right. It was a dangerous road to go down. Hope's past wasn’t just a mystery but a wound you had no idea how deep it ran.
As much as Jayce wanted to believe that there was an explanation, the truth might not be something you were ready to face.
Because if her mother had the heart to abandon her in a box, then what else had she been capable of?
For now, he pushed the thought away. All that mattered was that Hope was here and she was safe. As long as she was in his arms, Jayce would do everything in his power to make sure she had a good life.
Hope finished off her milk, her mouth going slack as Jayce gently pulled the bottle away. Just like before, he propped her up on his lap to burp her, rubbing slow circles on her back. The milk was already having its effect, making her eyelids droop and her body relax under his touch.
Jayce stifled a yawn. Watching Hope drift off to sleep reminded him of his own sleepiness. After wiping her mouth with the muslin cloth, you both got yourselves ready for bed.
As soon as he sank into the mattress, Jayce let out a slow breath. The comforter over him felt like heaven after a long day. The warmth cocooned him as he settled in. He turned his head on the pillow, facing you with Hope nestled between you both.
The silence was peaceful— until you spoke suddenly.
“So, when are you planning to tell your mom?”
Jayce sighed at the question. He definitely hadn’t forgotten about his mother. In fact, he had been thinking about how to break the news to her all day.
“Right…about that.”
You turned towards him, propping yourself on your elbow. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“Yeah actually, I think having you there will give me moral support.”
You hummed in understanding. “How do you think she will react?”
Jayce didn’t answer right away. His mind was still a tangled knot of what-ifs, every possible reaction playing out in his head. But he knew one thing for sure— the sooner he told her, the better.
The last thing he wanted was for her to hear about it through rumours, or worse, from someone else entirely. He needed to control the narrative, to be the one who explained why he was doing this and why Hope was here to stay.
“It’s hard to tell, but I don’t want to delay it.” He shifted slightly, adjusting the blanket over himself. “I was thinking about this weekend, maybe Saturday? I’ll write to her first, tell her we’re visiting before I drop everything on her.”
“That sounds sensible enough.”
“Alright…the following Saturday it is, then.” His voice grew quieter, betraying the nerves creeping in.
You reached out, placing a hand over his and squeezing it gently. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure she won’t be irrational.”
He knew you were right. You’d met his mother before— you had an idea of the kind of person she was. She was rational and deeply protective of her son’s future. She definitely wasn’t cruel.
But still…
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
You frowned, shifting closer to him under the covers. “Then what is it?”
Jayce sighed, tightening his grip on your hand as if grounding himself. “I know my mom is going to ask a lot of questions. Where Hope came from. What we’re planning to do long-term. If we’ve really thought this through.”
“That’s fair,” you said. “I mean, we did just make a huge decision without much preparation.”
“Exactly. And I get it, she wants to make sure I’m making smart choices, not just acting on impulse.”
You gave him a look. “Are you?”
He let out a short, dry laugh. “I’d like to think I’m doing both, thinking and feeling.”
Jayce’s gaze drifted to the ceiling as old memories resurfaced. He could still remember the day he stood before the Council, awaiting his punishment for his illegal experiment with magic.
He had been ready to face exile, but his mother had stepped in to appeal to the Council on his behalf. She defended him, arguing that he was only trying to help people. Because of her, his punishment was lessened— expulsion from the Academy instead of banishment from Piltover.
Though, what really lingered with him the most wasn’t the Council's judgment, rather the conversation he had with his mother afterwards. The relief she felt before telling him to let go of magic.
The quiet plea in her eyes, asking him to choose something stable, something that wouldn’t risk everything he had built.
At the time, he was disappointed, even hurt, that she didn’t support his dream. He saw it as a lack of faith in him. But now, years later, he understood. She had always valued security and stability, while he was driven by ambition and discovery.
He sighed, leaned back against the pillow. He glanced at Hope briefly, her sleeping form between you. How would his mother react to seeing her?
“She’s going to worry about what this means for my career, my future. I don’t blame her.” He turned to look back at you in the dim light. “But it’s not just about me. She’s going to wonder if you understand what you’ve taken on.”
“You think she’ll think I regret this?”
Jayce shook his head. “No, not regret. I think she’ll be worried about how much harder this makes things for you, compared to me.”
You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. Even though his mother had been nothing but kind to you, Jayce knew you weren’t blind to the concerns she must have. He was already juggling his responsibilities as a councillor and his work as a scientist.
And now, with Hope in the picture, things were only going to get more complicated.
“We’ll just be honest. I’ll tell her the truth— that I do understand and I have thought about it,” you said followed by a yawn, the weight of the day catching up to you “But I don’t want to think too deeply about it now.”
“You’re right,” Jayce agreed, voice softening. “Let’s get some sleep before this one wakes up for her feed.”
Reaching for the bedside lamp, he switched it off, plunging the room into darkness. The last thing he registered before slumber took over was the quiet sound of Hope’s breathing.
I always update this series on ao3 first. So if you want early access to the next chapter, you can find it here
𝐂𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐖: established relationship, found family, child neglect, adoption,
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You bring home an abandoned baby from the Undercity, and Jayce helps you raise her, only to later uncover the tragic past she carries.
‘Please take care of her. I can’t keep her anymore’
The words on the crumpled note hadn’t left your mind since you found it, and now as Jayce read them, you watched his reaction carefully.
The first time you saw those words, standing in the alleyway with the cold biting at your skin and the baby tucked in the box, they filled you with an indescribable feeling. A sinking weight on your chest, a quiet fury.
Her mother hasn’t left any extra blankets. No food. No keepsakes.
Only two sentences, scrawled in rushed, panicked handwriting— like she couldn’t get away fast enough.
Now, watching Jayce’s reaction with fresh eyes, you saw how heavily the words weighed on him. His brows furrowed, his fingers gripping the edge of the paper like he was trying to make sense of something beyond senseless.
“What’s with that look?” you asked.
Jayce exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is… a lot. All of it.”
His gaze moved over the room, taking in the sight of the baby still sleeping beside you on the bed, the bottles on the nightstand, the new makeshift changing station you’d set up overnight.
You didn’t miss the surprise look in his face when he first noticed all the baby supplies the night before— the realisation set in that this wasn’t some impulsive decision.
“I wanted to show you the note when you got home yesterday.”
Jayce's eyes flicked to yours, his tone betraying his exhaustion and confusion. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because we were already arguing.” You shifted your weight, glancing toward the baby. Her chest rising and falling peacefully. “I didn’t want to make things worse.”
Jayce looked down at the note again, his jaw tightening. “I see…”
Silence settled between you both. Heavy and full of uncertainty.
It has been a long night, and neither of you have gotten much sleep. You were exhausted, not just from the baby waking every few hours, but from the weight of everything on your shoulders.
Jayce had tossed and turned besides you, restless and lost in thoughts he hadn’t spoken out loud. And now, reading the note, things didn’t feel any clearer. If anything, they felt even more complicated.
Jayce leaned back against the pillows, running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. Once, you would’ve taken in the moment to admire him like this— soft and unguarded in the morning light. But not today. Not when you were both too drained to appreciate the small, familiar things.
“I can’t believe she was still alive in that box.” His voice is quieter now. “God knows how long she was out there, waiting for someone to find her.”
There was something different in his tone, something that made your stomach clench. A shift from last night’s argument. Less resistance, more contemplation.
The gears were still turning in his head, still trying to make sense of it all. But you’ve already made peace with your decision.
Your arms tightened around yourself. “She was lucky I got there in time.”
“Yeah.” Jayce paused and let out a slow breath. “And now… you don’t want to send her back out there.”
Your fingers curled slightly. “I won’t send her back out there.”
Jayce’s brows pull together, conflict in his expression. “I don’t want that either, but—”
“Jayce.” You turned to face him fully. The look on his face told you he already knew where this conversation was heading— but that didn’t mean he was ready for it. “I’m not asking you to help me raise her. I won’t force you into this. But please—don’t ask me to give her up to an orphanage.”
He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing slightly.
“I…” his eyes flickered towards the baby, impossibly small, curled up in her swaddle.
“Look at her.” Your voice softened. “She’s so fragile.”
Something shifted in Jayce’s expression.
“I’m looking…” he murmured. His shoulders sagged slightly, the tension in his frame easing a little. “We’ll figure something out.”
You studied his face, searching for doubts, for any more resistance. It was still there, but it was tangled with something else that you couldn’t name
Something softer.
You stepped closer. “Do you want to hold her?”
Jayce hesitated, his gaze flickered between you and the baby. You could see the conflict in his eyes— the weight of uncertainty consuming him. But underneath it, there was something else that you couldn't decipher.
Letting out a shaky breath, he finally answered. “…yeah.”
Settling on the bed, he waited for you to place the baby in his arms. His movements were stiff, uncertain, but still careful— like he was aware how fragile she was. You guided him, adjusted his arms and made sure he supported her head properly.
The baby looked so tiny against him, barely filling the space between his broadhands. Watching him like this— cautious, focused, gentle in a way you’ve never seen before— made your heart thud a little harder in your chest. Something you hadn’t felt in a while.
For a moment, a quiet awe settled on his expression as he stared at her. Then, the baby stirred in his arms, letting out soft whimpers. You recognised the signs immediately.
“She’s getting hungry,” you murmured.
Jayce looked up at you, hesitancy flickered in his eyes. “I don’t know…I’ve never done this before.”
“I’ll show you.”
Without waiting for the baby's cries to escalate, you headed to the kitchen. The last two days had changed something in you— sharpened your instincts you never knew you had. Every fuss, every tiny shift, you feel like you could sense it before it fully happened.
As you prepared the bottle, you realised how fluid your movements were compared to the first time. You’ve done this so many times in just two days, and it was already becoming second nature.
This has been a learning experience for you. And even if you never wanted to pressure Jayce into helping, a part of you wished he would.
When the bottle was finally ready, you quickly checked the temperature, then rushed back to the bedroom.
“Here you go! Breakfast,” you handed the bottle to Jayce.
His hand trembled as he took it from you, fingered brushing against yours lightly. He exhaled sharply, steadying himself before glancing down at the baby.
She was starting to fuss in his arms, so you adjusted his grip, guiding him. “Tilt it a little more.. and be patient. She’ll latch on when she’s ready.”
Jayce brought the bottle’s nipple to the baby’s mouth, but she turned her head away, letting out soft, dissatisfied noises.
He frowned. “She’s not—”
“She will,” you assured him. “Give her a second.”
After a few tries, she finally latched onto the bottle, her small mouth sucking eagerly at the milk.
The room lapsed into a silence, saved for the soft sounds of her drinking, the quiet suckling, the faint rhythm of the milk flowing through the bottle's nipple.
Jayce held back a smile as he watched her, his gaze following the way her tiny feet moved back and forth as if in response to the milk filling her mouth.
You could see his confidence growing with each passing moment. The way his shoulders loosened slightly, the crease in his brows easing a little.
There was something about watching your lover— the person that you had devoted the rest of your life to— feeding a small, helpless life, a child who depended on you for everything. Seeing them nurture something so fragile, sustaining them.
It was intimate in a way you hadn’t expected.
And now, Jayce was in that position. Cradling her, bottle in hand. You started to understand.
You understood why he had looked at you the way he did last night. Almost like something disarmed in him after your heated conversation.
He gazed back at you, catching you staring. “What?”
You shook your head softly, a small smile on your lips. “Nothing. Just…you’re a natural.”
He managed a chuckle at that, a sound deep and familiar that rumbled in your chest.
“You think so?” he asked, a sense of pride and hesitation in his voice. You could tell your words had an effect on him, even if his grip on the bottle was a little shaky.
“Yeah. She already seems to trust you.”
“I don’t know about that,” he murmured, but you saw the way his expression softened as he looked down at her. But just as quickly, a slight dread crossed his face.
“I don’t know the first thing about taking care of babies” he admitted, as if his confession carried some weight “How am I supposed to…give her everything she needs.”
You knew that feeling too well. The helplessness, the doubt.
You had felt it that night you found her— when you first picked her up from the box, her cries were sharp and desperate against your chest. The fear of not knowing what to do. Of not being good enough for her.
But Jayce had you to guide him.
When you first held her, you had no one. No voice to reassure you, no steady hands to show you the way. Just you and this tiny fragile life depending on someone— depending on you— to keep her alive.
Just like Jayce, your hands had trembled when you held her. At first, instincts had kicked in before your brain even caught up. You had pulled her close, shielding her from the cold, desperate to keep her warm.
And then the realisation settled in like cold water down your back.
The panic had clawed onto you, but somehow, you managed to push through it. You had to force yourself to think logically, one step at a time.
Bring her inside. Get her warm.
And after that, everything else had escalated.
“Jayce, you’re not alone in this, remember? I’m caring for her too,” you reminded him gently. “I’ve done this alone while you were gone. But now that we have each other, we can share the workload.”
“Yeah, but what if I mess up? She’s so…small.”
Jayce’s confidence from before was starting to falter. And then, something about his words caught your attention. Not the way he said it but the words he chose.
You tilted your head, studying him. “You mess up? Not we?”
Jayce stilled. His fingers twitched slightly on the blanket wrapped around the baby, his brows furrowing only realising what he said.
“Was that how it came out, or…” you pressed gently. “Were you thinking about raising her too?”
“I don’t know…maybe,” he trailed off, thumb rubbing absently over the fabric of the blanket. Finally, after a pause— “Yeah.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I don't know…” he said, his voice soft and sincere as he tried to search for the right words. “Maybe…maybe it's because I can't imagine letting anyone else do this. She feels...right, in my arms. Like she was meant to be here, with me…”
As his decision finally solidified, the baby finished off the last ounce of milk. Her sucking turned sluggish. You watched as her eyes fluttered, her belly now full. A little dribble of milk slipped down her chin.
Jayce lowered the empty bottle and slowly pulled it away before handing it back to you.
“Now you have to burp her,” you said.
“Burp her?”
“Yeah, to get any trapped air out of her belly.” You smiled, trying to disarm his nerves. “Sit her on your lap and lean her forward a little.”
Jayce repositioned the baby carefully, propping her against his lap. His hands— so much larger than her small frame— hovered awkwardly as he looked back at you for reassurance.
You guided him, showing him how to support her head and chest with one hand, making sure her head stayed stable.
“Now, pat her back gently.” you instructed, demonstrating the motion.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he placed his broad palm against her back. The first few pats were hesitant and too soft to do anything.
“A little firmer than that,” you encouraged.
He frowned. “What if I burp her too hard?”
“What?”
“What if I go too hard and I…you know…hurt her—”
Before he could spiral any further, his words were cut off and the baby let out several soft burps in quick succession. The tiny sounds were barely more than puffs of air, but she let out a content sigh afterwards.
“Did that count?” Jayce asked.
“Yeah, that counts.”
You laughed at his cautious determination, a warmth spreading through your chest as you watched him care for this new life now in your home.
“I guess…I didn’t do too badly,” he laughed softly.
You sniffed the air dramatically. “I smell something.”
“Smell something?” Jayce arched his brow. “What—”
“Is that…a newfound paternal instinct?” you teased, your lips growing to a grin when you saw the look of surprise and mild horror on his face.
Jayce blinked, caught completely off guard by your comment.
“What? No— I just…” his stammered before the baby let out a few grunts. Her face scrunched up right as a strong odour hit you both at full force
“Oh no, that’s her,” Jayce recoiled.
You burst out laughing at his expression, barely able to get the words out. “How could such a small thing produce something that smells this foul?”
Jayce held the baby at arms length, trying desperately to keep the baby’s contents from shifting. You could practically see the realisation dawn on him— the horror that you might ask him to change her. His eyes flickered back to yours, pleading.
“Here, let me. You can watch and learn,”
Relief washed over his face as he handed her off to you, though he was still grimacing at the lingering smell.
“Pass me the changing mat?” you asked, pointing towards a cabinet. Jayce found it quickly and passed it to you, his movements careful.
The smell only intensified as you set up the changing area— a station with neatly stacked diapers and wipes.
You gently unwrapped her swaddle, “P U, girl.”
Jayce stood besides you despite the olfactory assault, his eyes tracking every move you made, clearly trying to commit it to memory.
You made sure your touch was gentle as you unbuttoned her baby grow. But the second the cool air hit her skin, the baby let out a wail of protest. Her arms flailing, we face scrunching up in clear distress and clearly unhappy with being taken out of her warm swaddle.
“I know, sweetie, I know . It’ll be quick, I promise,” you cooed softly.
She continued to cry and flail, seemingly unconvinced by your words. Her small fists waved in the air, her cries sharp and insistent, as if protesting the injustice of it all.
The sound of her wails filled the room, mingled with the scent of her soiled diaper. The first time you changed her, the sheer volume of her cries had twisted something deep in your chest.
It was heartbreaking— cleaning her up while she was screaming, her small form trembling against the cold.
You could only imagine what it must be like— to go from the warmth and security of the womb of the harshness of the world, to suddenly being exposed when all she wanted was to be wrapped up and safe.
Even now, after doing it for two days, it still tugged at you. But you’d learn to push past the ache, knowing that it was only a momentary distress.
You lifted her lower body, cleaning her up before slipping on a fresh diaper and buttoning up her baby grow. The moment you wrapped her up in her swaddle again, her cries softened, then quietened to lingering sniffles until she was content.
It still fascinated you how quickly she went from a distressed bundle of tears to a calm, sleepy weight in your arms. She nuzzled against your chest, her body warmer through the layers of fabric.
Jayce watched the entire process, his expression unreadable. But as you held her close, something in his gaze softened.
He sat down in a nearby chair, eyes still glued to you and then baby, quiet and thoughtful.
“Do you really want kids?” he asked suddenly, tone soft and contemplative.
The question made you stammer, your face grew warm as you fumbled for a response.
“Are you really asking that now?” you asked. The situation alone should’ve answered enough.
Jayce chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I’m not being very tactful, huh?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but quickly faded. “I just…watching you, seeing how effortlessly you handle everything got me thinking.”
When you first got together, the topic of children had barely scratched the surface. Not because it was something you avoided or didn’t want. It just never felt like the right time.
Even after moving in together, you hadn’t revisited the conversation. But if you were being honest, the thought had crossed your mind more than once.
You’d imagined it before— having a child to cherish as your own, watching Jayce step into the role of a loving father. He was always fiercely protective, naturally warm, the kind of man who gave his whole heart to the people he loved.
And now, seeing him with the baby in his arms just moments ago, it was hard not to picture it.
“I do,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to the little one nestling against your chest. “And she’s the closest I have to that right now .”
A silver of doubt crept into your mind— was this really meant for you? Were you making the right choice? But you pushed it back.
“I know…it probably sounds selfish,” you murmured.
Jayce shook his head immediately. “It doesn’t sound selfish. It sounds human.”
The room stilled for a moment before you spoke again.
“We still haven’t got a name for her yet.”
He blinked. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’ve just been calling her the baby this whole time.”
You huffed a soft laugh. “Fair point. What kind of names do you like? Anything specific in mind?”
“I don’t know…something that reflects her. Her bravery. The fact that she was lost and found. Or…new beginnings.”
“Brave…lost and found…new beginnings,” you echoed, mulling it over. “There are names like Faith, Trust, maybe even Hevan…”
Jayce brows furrowed, thinking deeply for a moment before his face lit up.
“Actually, I think I just thought of one.” He glanced at the baby and then back at you. “What about…Hope?”
Your lips parted slightly, the name processing in your head.
“She gives us hope that we’ll be good parents,” Jayce continued. “And she’s bringing new beginnings into our lives. Plus…it’s a nice name to boot.”
“Hope…” You repeated it softly, testing how it felt on your tongue. It was simple but strong, carrying the weight of new beginnings. And Jayce was right— it suited her. She had given you both something to hold onto, a hope for the future.
Jayce nodded, a smile growing on his lips “That’s a perfect name for her, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I guess that’ll be her name from now on. Our little Hope.”
“I think she’ll have the Talis name,” Jayce added, his pride swelling in his voice as he rose from his seat. He reached out and brushed a gentle finger over her cheek. “Hope Talis.”
“Speaking of Talis…how are you gonna explain this to your mother?”
Jayce visibly winced at the mention of his mother. His shoulders tensed. “Right….good question.”
You knew that Jayce and his mother, Ximena Talis, had a close-knit bond, especially after his father’s passing. She had raised him alone, molding him into the man he was today. But she was also practical— someone who thought ahead rather than letting emotions dictate decisions.
And suddenly deciding to raise an abandoned baby, without a concrete plan or any real preparation, was a lot for any parent to process. That wasn’t something she wasn’t going to take lightly.
It wasn’t that you were expecting her to outright disapprove— Ximena wasn’t the type to reject something out of prejudice. But naturally you did expect her to ask questions. To make sure her son had thought this through.
And then, there was you.
You weren’t oblivious to the difference between you and Jayce. While Jayce was born into Piltover’s upper echelon, raised with opportunities laid before him, you had to fight every scrap of stability you had, growing up in the Undercity, where survival overweighed ambition and dreams.
Ximena never outright opposed your relationship, especially coming from a humble background. But there had always been a certain hesitation in her approval. A subtle caution— not out of cruelty or elitism. But as a mother, she wanted what was best for her son.
And after a few days of having Hope in your arms, you understood that instinct more than ever.
You suspected she worried about the world you came from. When it could mean for Jayce. For his future. And now, here you were, deciding to raise a child together. A child with no name, no past and no certainty about what the future held.
Jayce ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “She’s going to grill me, isn’t she?”
“Oh absolutely,” you said with a teasing grin. “But let’s not worry about that now.”
Laying Hope back onto the bed, you turned back to Jayce, slipping your hand around his arm. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
~
The afternoon rolled in, and Jayce had to leave, leaving you alone with Hope again. You weren’t too worried— after all, you’ve spent two days caring for her alone before he even knew she existed.
As you held Hope in your arms, you couldn’t help but notice the way she kept sniffling and whimpering, little noises of discomfort that tugged at your heart. You weren’t sure if she was just fussy or something was actually wrong. Maybe the cold air from when she was abandoned had gotten to her.
You checked her forehead— no fever. You adjusted her swaddle, making sure she was warm but not too warm, yet she still squirmed restlessly. Her hands clenched and unclenched, her breaths coming soft, uneven puffs.
Maybe she was coming down with something. That would make sense. A little congestion, a little discomfort— babies get colds all the time.
You thought about steaming up the bathroom and sitting with her in the warm air. Would that be safe for a newborn? You hesitated. You knew the basics— feeding her, changing her, keeping her comfortable— but this was something else.
Instead, you turned on the heating and sat with her in the bedroom, holding her close and letting the warmth of your body soothe her. Her whimpers quieted, but every so often, she sniffled again and her nose scrunched up.
The uneasy feeling didn’t go away. Should you tell Jayce? Would that be overreacting? You didn’t want to worry him, not if it was something as simple as a cold.
Maybe you were just overthinking. That was normal for new parents, right?
You pressed a gentle kiss on Hope’s forehead, stroking a soothing hand down her back. Whatever this was, she just needed comfort. As long as she was with you, she was safe.
I always update this series on ao3 first. So if you want early access to the next chapter, you can find it here
is anyone just tired of reading smut? just me? smut's fun every once in a while but i hate those long ass kink warnings and shit like i dont need to consume that on the internet? no hate towards writers or readers of smut, just tryna voice my opinion. but srsly, i need 10K words of well written angst angst ANGST not 10K words of smut with like 50 different positions and kinks
𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Mama+Wife!Reader, lot’s of fluff, talks of sexual vulnerability, mentions of loss, mild emotional angst
𝐀/𝐍: Another vent fic…shocker. Loosely inspired by @cupcakeinat0r prof!Miguel story chap 8
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A late night talk with Miguel leads to unexpected confessions, drawing you closer to your husband.
The ethereal glow of the floating holograms filled the room, illuminating a soft light around Miguel. His broad shoulders were hunched slightly, muscles taut with the weight of responsibilities.
He studied the swirling projections of different universes as his fingers moved expertly across the controls. The precision of each motion reflected how deep he was immersed in his task.
If it was so late and you weren’t so sleepy, you might have stood there longer. You would have watched in quiet awe as the muscles in his back flexed with every movement. The definition of his form stood out against the low light— powerful yet weary.
Instead, you lingered at the doorway, cradling your daughter in your arms. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too engrossed in his work. The weight of his responsibilities exhibited in the tension of his posture.
The soft hum of the hologram and the quiet hum of Lylas digital voice blended in the background, harmonised by the soft breaths of Maria, your one-year-old baby, who stirred slightly in your arms.
It was Lyla who noticed you first, her digital form glowed brighter as her eyes met yours. She offered a small wave, then disappeared with a soft glitch, leaving Miguel to glance over his shoulder.
When his eyes finally found you, they softened instantly. The soft glow of the marigold hologram flickered in his crimson eyes, casting a tender reflection back at you.
“Someone wants her papa,” you whispered. The moment Maria’s face lit up with a smile, Miguel’s stern demeanor melted away, his workaholic armor disarmed in an instant.
You always knew how much of a soft spot he had for your daughter, especially when she reached out for him like this.
“…and papa wants her too,” his voice soft and tender. “How come you’re both still up?”
Miguel extended his hands, carefully taking Maria from your arms. His usual sharp, deliberate movements softened as he turned to face you both.
His gaze lingered on her for a moment, a quiet reverence in his eyes, before lifting her gently and cradling her small body against his broad chest.
Maria nuzzled into his neck, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Her tiny fingers brushed against his bare skin. Miguel’s free hand instinctively moved to her back, gently tapping as he lowered his chin to rest on her soft head.
“She wouldn’t settle,” you explained. “I think she's been waiting for you to put her to sleep.”
A low hum rumbled in Miguel’s chest as he gazed down at Maria, whose eyelids were already drooping. Her breath slowed in the comfort of his arms.
She was already sleepy, but you knew if she hadn’t been, her excitement as seeing her dad would’ve kept her wide awake.
Miguel’s eyes flickered back to you, his voice a whisper so he wouldn’t disturb the precious peace that had settled around you both. “She missed me, huh?”
You watched as he cradled Maria in his arms, his hold gentle but firm. There was something calming about seeing them both together, the strength of his form contrasted by the softness in which he held her.
But as your gaze shifted to his face, your chest tightened. The visible bags under his eyes were stark against his tanned skin— an unmistakable sigh of his exhaustion.
But what concerned you more was his constant drive to push himself past his limits, something he often didn’t seem to notice, or refuse to acknowledge.
“You’ve been working for hours.” You said gently, hoping your tone would coax him into resting. “I think it’s time you hit the hay.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, the subtle crease between his brow deepening. You knew that look— he was preparing to push back. To insist he could handle it, even though his body told him otherwise.
“I know, cariño,” his voice edged with weariness. “But I just need to finish a few more things.”
You sighed, stepping closer. “You said that an hour ago,” you reminded him, trailing your fingers lightly over his forearm. The warmth of his skin sent a familiar ripple through you. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
You knew the effect you had on him when you touched him like that, your fingers tracing deliberate patterns.
His breath hitched slightly, his resolve wavering as yoh leaned closer. “You know I’m right,” you lowered your voice to a sultry tone. “Look at your eyes.”
Miguel took a quick glance at the holograms, clearly trying to hold onto his stubbornness, but you could see the struggle in his face— the pull between duty and the weight of his exhaustion.
It was a battle he was already losing.
His shoulders sagged over slightly as he exhaled a long, defeated sigh. When he looked back at you, his demeanour softened. The tension slowly fading from his posture.
Without another word, he switched off the holograms, the swirling projection disappearing into nothingness.
His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and finally surrendering to your touch. “You’re playing dirty.”
“Yeah?” You resorted, hands resting against his chest. “Only because it works.”
You headed back to the bedroom, tucking yourself into the warmth of the blanket while waiting for Miguel to put Maria down in her crib. The soft murmur of his voice, soothing your daughter to sleep, could be heard from the other room.
“She was restless for a while, you know,” you remarked once he joined you in bed.
You pulled the blanket tighter around your body to ward off the cold. Miguel slid besides you, his large frame instantly bringing warmth.
“She was probably restless without me,” he grinned, the prideful glint in his eyes. “She’s daddy’s girl through and though.”
You smiled at his confidence. You knew he loved that role— being a father, a protector. It was something he wore proudly, dispite the heavy burden he carries as Spider-Man.
Letting out a long, tired yawn, as you moved closer to him. The weight of the day— and the late hour— was finally catching up to you. Your eyelids grew heavier by the second.
“Looks like both of you can’t stay awake around me,” Miguel teased.
“We’ve been waiting for you to get to bed,” you replied with a sleepy voice. “You’ve been taking so long.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, tone full of guilt as he pulled you closer. “I wish I didn't have to work so much. I'd be in this bed with you every night.”
You pressed yourself against his warmth, your face tucked against the crook of his neck to inhale his familiar scent.
“Eres mío,” your words were muffled by the skin of his shoulder.
“Sí, amor. I’m all yours,” he hushed, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “Completely, utterly yours.”
His lips brushed against your neck, warmth and soft. “I missed this,” he confessed between tender kisses. “Touching you, feeling you.”
“I missed you too…you’re still my doting husband, though.”
“Of course I am. I’ll always be here to dote on you.”
You felt his hands slide down your back, lingering at your hips. The familiar tension between the two of you sparked, but the exhaustion weighed heavy on your limbs.
“I hope Maria’s actually sleeping,” you said if more to yourself, trying to distract how tired you felt.
“Don’t worry, she’s fast asleep. The baby monitors on, and I checked on her before I came in. She’s completely knocked out, trust me,” his lips grazed your collarbone, but his voice was tempting. “Now, stop worrying. It’s just us, remember?”
“Mhmm. I don’t want to do anything tonight…just talk until we fall asleep,” you said before barely suppressing another yawn.
Miguel pulled away slightly, enough to see your face. There was a hint of feigned disappointment in his expression, but he masked it with a small smile.
“Just talk?” he asked, pulling his lower lips in a pout “You sure? I was looking forward to doing a lot more than just talking.”
“I’m tired…”
Miguel sighed softly, his fingers tracing light circles on your back. “I’m pretty tired as well. I guess we can do it another time.”
“Mhmm, I don’t want to get pregnant again, not until Maria’s three at least.” your voice was firm through the sleepiness.
You already had your hands full with a one-year-old, and adding another baby to the equation— especially with Miguel’s dimension hopping work schedule— felt overwhelming.
You could already imagine the sleepless night, the extra demand, and the toll it would take on both of you.
Miguel looked back at you, his brows furrowing slightly, clearly mulling over your words. The hesitation was written all over his face. It wasn’t that he disagreed, he just wanted to consider everything carefully.
He let out a low sigh before he spoke. “So…uhm, are you suggesting we should use protection?”
“Protection?” you echoed. The word caught you off guard.
“Yeah,” Miguel said, running a hand through his hair, choosing his words carefully. “I was just thinking, you know, if we want to be careful… it’s up to you. I won’t get you pregnant again unless you want me to.”
You thought about what he said, letting the words turn over in your head. Realistically, you knew abstinence wasn’t going to work— not for three years. The attraction between you was magnetic, and it wasn’t something that could be easily ignored.
So, it only made sense to use some protection. Still, the thought of it made you wrinkle your nose in distaste.
“Hmm…I never really liked the feel of the rubber,” you said truthfully. You didn’t see the point in sugarcoating it.
That seemed to set him off. Miguel’s eyes twinkled in amusement as soon as the words left your mouth. You saw the corner of his lips twitched upwards.
“And what if I told you I’m not a fan of them either, hm?” his voice dropped lower to a purr.
Before you could respond, his lips brushed over the sensitive spot just bow your ear, sensing a shiver down your spine. His hands hike up your sides, as if he couldn’t keep himself from touching you.
“You sure you don't want to change your mind about just talking?” there was the familiar hunger edged in his tone. “I'm sure we can keep it quiet enough to not wake up Maria..”
“Yeah, I’m sure…not tonight,” you felt Miguel’s grip loosened as he pulled away, respecting your space. Though, you could feel the reluctance in the way he did.
As you basked yourself in the silence like a comforting blanket, your thoughts began to wander. As peaceful as the moment was, it stirred some memories— of how far you’ve come, of every obstacle you faced before reaching this point.
You never imagined yourself in this role: a wife, a mother. The journey to get to where you were was winding, filled with doubts.
You’ve built walls, thick and impenetrable ones. They were meant to keep you safe from disappointment, from hurt, and things you’ve convinced yourself you didn’t need.
But then, there was Miguel.
Maybe it was the way he understood— truly understood— when you said no just now. He never made you feel pressured. Instead, he held you and let the silence do the talking.
That’s when something inside you shifted, tugging at the edge of memories from a past you would rather forget.
Meeting Miguel felt different from the start, but you didn’t know why at first. Things between you weren’t rushed or fixed, they unfolded naturally. As if fate guided you both to this very moment.
You still remember that early time in your life— the time when you began to heal, when you started to unlearn all those harmful lessons from before.
You were rediscovering yourself.
The moment you were first introduced to Miguel, you were intrigued by his sharp mind, his serious demeanor, and the way he could command a room without even trying.
His no-nonsense attitude should’ve repelled you, but instead, it pulled you even deeper. Maybe that was what made him so trustworthy.
With him, those walls didn’t come crashing down all at once, but rather they crumbled slowly, piece by piece. Everytime he looked at you with that silent understanding, when he respected your space without question, a part of those barriers chipped away.
Back then, you hadn’t realised he felt the same, at least not until the subtle clues vague to surface. You laughed at yourself, remembering how he went out of his way to wear a particular cologne that had aphrodisiac qualities.
As if he needed it. You’d already been captivated by him long before.
Now, as you lay beside him, watching his eyes fluttering closed and his arms wrapped around you protectively, you couldn’t stop the words from spilling.
“You know…” you began, your soft voice matching the dim glow in the room. “Before we got together, I always found intimacy quite…uhm…”
The words were harder to pinpoint than you expected. You paused, biting your lips as you searched for how to explain something so complicated— something you’ve kept buried for so long.
Miguel opened his eyes at the sound of your voice.“Go on, I’m listening,” he murmured, his deep voice anchored you in the moment. There was no judgment, just patient understanding.
Your heart skipped a beat under the intensity of his gaze. There was no biting back your words now. You started this conversation, and he was waiting, ready to hear what you had to say.
“Growing up, I was taught that sex and intimacy weren’t things that should be discussed, or explored openly,” you hesitated, the memories making your throat tighten. You let him digest your words before continuing. “It was seen as a stigma. And it was always the man’s domain to take control in those situations.”
You swallowed thickly, trying to moisten your dry throat. It felt like a release, but also terrifying— like exposing a part of yourself you’ve always kept hidden.
Your hands trembled slightly, and you gripped the sheets tighter, bracing for his response.
Miguel didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with a thoughtful expression. Then, his hand moved to gently cover yours.
“That must've been hard,” he said quietly, voice filled with empathy. “Having a strained view on something that’s natural and should be enjoyed without guilt
He squeezed your hand softly, silently reassuring you. The warmth of his touch eased some of the tension in your chest. He didn’t need to ask for more details or push you to explain further. He simply accepted what you shared, offering his quiet support.
For so long, you had carried the burden of that discomfort— the feeling that something that should be good and intimate only made you feel exposed and vulnerable.
It has left a lingering sense of fear and guilt, like you weren’t allowed to enjoy something so deeply personal. A special bond that was supposed to strengthen you as a couple.
You thought about how different things could have been if someone had told you earlier that it was okay— that intimacy didn’t have to come with shame. You deserved to feel safe, to desire more, and enjoy it.
But maybe the timing didn’t matter as much. What mattered was that it felt right now— with him. And you were grateful with how far you came.
“You make it feel natural,” you whispered, the fragile truth followed by a small smile.
Miguel mirrored your expression and took a hold of you hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to the knuckles. “Because it is natural. And I’m glad I’m the one who gets to help you feel that way.”
You wouldn’t want it any other way.
“There was a point when I found it hard to appreciate and accept romance or intimacy. I always saw anything remotely romantic as revolting or uncomfortable,” you let out a shaky breath, feeling your face getting hotter as more words trembled out. “I was really at my lowest then. I saw sex as…dirty.”
Miguel’s expression shifted, his smile fading into something more serious, more pained. His eyes darkened with empathy, as though your admission had quietly fractured something in him.
You could see the weight of your words sinking in, and it made you wonder why it was so easy to share this with him. Perhaps because Miguel created a space that made you feel safe, even about the darkest parts about yourself.
“There’s nothing dirty or shameful about sex, amor. It’s a way of expressing love and desire. I hate that you had to go through that kind of pain,” you could hear the strong conviction in his tone. “You’re my wife and the mother of my child. I promise I’ll never let you feel that way again. I’ll always honour and cherish you.”
You knew that. It had taken time but deep down, you understand the truth of his words. Yet, hearing him say it, with such tenderness in his voice, made your stomach flutter.
It wasn’t often that Miguel spoke like this. Soft, sweet words weren’t his usual language. But when he did express himself like this, it always felt sincere.
He never said things just for the sake of it, or just to fill the space. He meant every word, and that made the weight of his promise feel more powerful by ten folds.
The tears came unbidden, welling in your eyes and spilled down your cheeks as the gravity of his words settled straight to your chest.
Miguel noticed immediately, his thumb brushing against your damp cheeks. His touch was delicate, full of concern.
“Hey, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you sad, just expressing how much you mean to me,” he said softly, a slight tremor of worry in his voice as he tried to console you.
You shook your head, blinking through the tears. “I’m not…they’re not sad tears. Promise.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the heel of your hands before letting out a small, shaky laugh.
“Oh, I see. I'm glad to know they’re happy tears then.” His hands remained on your cheeks, his touch soothing. “You’re so strong and resilient, you know that? Carrying our baby, giving birth to her…I’m so proud of you.”
“But I wouldn’t be here without you.”
“I guess it goes both ways. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without you either. You brought so much joy and love into my life. You’re my rock.”
You let out a small laugh of disbelief. “Oh please—”
“Oh please, nothing. It’s the truth.” His eyes softened as he looked at you. “You’re the only one who’s believed in me, supported me, and loved me no matter what. You make me a better person, amor, and I’m so grateful for you and our little family.”
“I could say the same for you. I’m glad I shared about my previous experience and what I’ve been through.”
“I’m honoured that you trust me enough to share that part of your past with me.” Miguel said.
You felt the familiar sting of unshed tears pressing at the corner of your eyes, a reminder of how hard it had been to keep everything inside for so long.
You glanced back at the baby monitor, watching the slow rise and fall of your daughter. The sight filled you with something unnamable, a joy you had once though was out of reach. “I’ve never told anyone about this. I was in a dark place…”
His brows furrowed with concern again. “A dark place? What do you mean?”
You hesitated, letting the bleak memories flash briefly behind your eyelids. The ache of the loneliness, the numbness that followed. “I don’t know, but maybe because I had no job back then too. Nothing to keep me busy, to keep me occupied. No drive.”
“I know what you mean,” he said quietly. “It can make you feel like you’re not worth anything, like you’re not contributing…but just remember you always have so much to offer.”
You looked at him expectedly, waiting for him to continue. At first, you thought he’d follow up with something sappy or cheesy, but this was Miguel. Sappy came in rare, fleeting moments— like shooting stars you barely caught.
“Like the coffees you make for me every morning,” he grinned at you knowingly. “You know you make the best coffee, right? And that’s coming from a perfectionist. I don’t think I’d survive without you bringing in my morning fix”
You rolled your eyes, chuckling at his comment, but the warmth didn’t last long. Once your laughter died down, you noticed his expression shift.
His eyes turned distant, the corner of his mouth pulling down into a frown. It was like a s bleak cloud loomed over him.
“Miguel?” you asked softly. “What’s on your mind? You just went quiet on me.”
Even after five years of marriage, there were still parts of Miguel that remained a mystery to you— layers he kept hidden, even from you.
Moment like this made you wish you could see into his mind, to understand his thoughts without needing the words.
You longed for that kind of connection where you could read his mood through subtle cues— the way his jaw clenched, or the way his eyes darken when something weighed on him.
But now, all you could do was wait and hope he’d let you in.
“I don’t…I don’t want to make this about myself when you’re talking about your own struggles. But…” he let out a sigh, you could pick up on his reluctance to continue. “Hearing you talk, it made me think about my own issues too.”
You squeezed his hand, gently urging him on. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m here to listen too.”
Miguel let out a breath, his chest rising and falling, like he was trying to steel himself. His hand tightened around yours as he began.
“I guess I’ve been carrying more than I realised,” his voice was low, almost strain. You watched as his Adam’s Apple bobbed with a thick swallow. “Being Spider-Man, losing Gabriella…sometimes I wonder if I’m worthy of the life I have now. You, Maria…all of it.”
You could still recall the early days before marriage, when Miguel first opened up about his struggles. It had taken time and patience, and more than a few long nights before he allowed himself to be vulnerable.
But when he finally did, you could see the weight he had been carrying lift, if only slightly, as he shared his pain.
Hearing the full extent of his past had left a knot in your stomach that day. The loss, the guilt— it was staggering. The thought of someone you loved bearing such an immense burden was almost overwhelming.
You had questioned if you could be enough for him, if you’d be able to say the right things to provide the confront he truly needed.
But as time passed, you saw Miguel in all his complexities— the man behind the hero, the man who fought everyday not just for the multiverse, but for his own fragile sense of redemption.
And with every moment spent together, you understood more of what shapes him into the leader of the Spider Society.
“Miguel, you’re more than worthy. I know you’ve been through a lot, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve happiness,” you gently stroking your thumb over his knuckles, hoping to have the grounding effect on him that he craved.
Miguel gaze fixed on your intertwined hands. “I know…logically. But it’s different when you’re in the middle of it. Everyday I wake up with the memories of everything I’ve lost. I don’t know how to let go of it.”
“You don’t have to let go of it all at once. But maybe…just start with accepting that you deserve good things too,” you looked up at him with a soft smile. “You’ve done so much for so many people. Don’t you think you deserve a little bit of peace?”
Miguel’s lips twitched into a small, weary smile too. “You always know what to say to get through to me.”
“Because I know you. And I’ll always be here to remind you when you forget.”
It didn’t take long before you both drifted off to sleep. Tangled in each others arms and the trouble of the day slipping away.
Having a negative experience with sex and should probably talk to a professional ❌❌
Writes a fic about it😗✅✅
I’ve mentioned this on AO3 but I’m gonna put it on here too, please don’t be mean (._.) while I welcome constructive criticism, there’s always an approachable way to give feedback without sounding condescending, rude, or sarcastic. Even though I don’t let hate get to me, I don’t have the thickest skin.
I also want to mention that many of my older fics, mostly from last year, were written during a phase where I was still exploring different tropes and writing styles. So, looking back, some of them might seem forced or rough, especially in areas where I was experimenting with kinks or tropes that I’m simply not familiar writing.
After writing Miguel for a year, I’ve found tropes I’m most comfortable with and happy to post. If these don’t suit your tastes, feel free to move on …💕
7k+ words….my God. I still don’t have a Masterlist for my Jayce fics. Soon though 🙌🏼
📄 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜
If I had the write an essay on how Jayce’s affection manifests throughout Arcane, using case studies and evidence from the series to back up my points, I’d absolutely ace the task
Matter of fact, that paper alone would probably be enough to pass the whole course because it’ll be exquisite— mind-blowing even. The professors wouldn’t just give me an A*. They would invent a new grade entirely
The point is, Jayce’s affection is heavily presented in this show, and it’s clear that this man is dedicated to the people he cares about
We’ve all seen it most prominently with Viktor. I won’t go into too much detail (or we’ll be here all day), but Jayce’s loyalty and care for him are on full display
His physical presence is grounding to him, and he often uses touch to comfort or connect with the people he’s close to
With his romantic partner, I can definitely see him being naturally physically affectionate— holding hands whenever he can, resting his hands on your shoulder, or even lightly brushing your fingers. If he’s feeling anxious, he might just hold onto your fingertips, seeking reassurance from you
Whenever he feels overwhelmed by his responsibilities as a councillor, he wouldn’t hesitate to rest his head on your lap (sound familiar?) even wrap his arms around you to recharge
He doesn’t shy away from showing his emotions and vulnerable side, which creates a space of trust and intimacy between the two of you. If something was to bother him, he’d talk it out rather than bottling everything up and leaving you in the dark
As mentioned above, he’s unflinchingly faithful and loyal. We’ve seen the way he covers for Caitlyn, and I feel like he would extend that loyalty to his partner. Always ready to stand by your side and protect you, no matter what
📄 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Have you ever had a friend who yaps a lot? Not in an overbearing way that talks your ear off or doesn’t give you room to speak. But someone who’s just eager to share their thoughts and experiences with you. Probably oversharing occasionally
That’s what being friends with Jayce is like— especially if you were friends back in his Academy days. He was already a bright, intelligent student back then, driven by a passion of his studies and research, and always eager to learn more
When you’d study together, you’d hear him ramble about some experiment or project he’s working on. Even if half of it went over your head, you’d still listen because his excitement was contagious (blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff)
And you’d know that he would do the same for you. Whenever you spoke about something you were passionate about, Jayce would listen intently— always with solid eye contact and offering his thoughts and encouragement
If you need advice, Jayce would be there to talk things through with you. He’s rational, but also leads with his heart, so his advice would always come with empathy.
And let’s not forget his humour. Jayce might take his work seriously, but he knows how to lighten the mood when the moment calls for it. Remember the way he snuck up behind Caitlyn and tipped her hat? That same mischievous streak would show up in your friendship too
Whether it’s pulling an all-nighter for a project or grabbing a coffee together, Jayce would make sure you feel valued and appreciated. His loyalty runs deep, and once you’ve earned his trust, you can count on him to be a lifelong friend
📄 𝐂𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I’m not exaggerating when I say that physical touch is like fuel to Jayce— it gives him the extra drive, especially if it’s from you. And cuddles is no exception
When it’s the two of you in privacy, he closes the gap in bed immediately. His go-to is being the little spoon, though he wouldn’t mind switching things up and holding you from time to time as well
He loves lying on top of you, listening to your heartbeat and the soft rhythm of your breathing. It’s these little things— your natural scent, the way you chest rises and falls, or just the fact that you exists— fulfils him
God forbid if you were to shift in your sleep, unintentionally pulling yourself away from him. He wouldn’t be too dramatic about it but he will grumble softly from the lack of your touch and instinctively tighten his grip and pull you close (unless you really do want your space, of course)
Being in your arms feels like home, and he’ll savour every moment, preserving those quiet times together.
📄 𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I don’t know what it is, and I can’t fully explain myself here, but I just can’t see Jayce being great with the cooking. And it’s not like the show gives us much to work with, maybe it was the sandwich he made for himself that appeared in the first episode— it didn’t scream “master chef”
I know that doesn’t really speak much. Though, that’s not to say he couldn’t handle himself if needed. He might manage some basic dishes (scrambled eggs or simple pasta), but that’s just me being generous here
Cleaning, on the other hand, would be Jayce’s strong suit in a domestic setting. He seems like the type who works best in an organised, less chaotic space, and that preference would carry over to his living space
I’m basing most of this on his lab that looked pretty tidy, while being spacious (it helps that Viktor was there to share the space). Plus, from the small glimpse of his bedroom, everything looked pretty neat and thoughtfully placed
Speaking of the bedroom, we do see him keep trinkets— like the photo of his father and himself as a boy and other nicknacks— and I think that speaks a lot about him. Those small items hold a sentimental value, and I feel like if the two of you were to live together, he’s carry that habit into your shared home
You’d find pictures of the two of you together (maybe even wedding photos, if it gets to that point), ornaments or objects that remind him of special memories or an event, and collections of meaningful things. He’s definitely not a hoarder, but he has a way of decorating that feels personal and homely without making the space look cluttered
📄 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I always disliked getting to this part of the headcanon alphabet because my heart can’t imagine breaking up with my favourite person. Breaking up is something Jayce would avoid as much as possible
He’s not the type to walk away lightly. If there was an issue, he would always try to fix things— sometime to the point where he might be blinded by his own feelings. In such a pivotal moment like this, he might fail to see the bigger picture, not realising that letting go could actually be the healthiest option for both of you
Jayce values commitment deeply, so it would take something monumental— likely a circumstance outside of his control— for him to really reach the point of ending a relationship
If he was the one to break things off, it would be rooted in his self doubts. We’ve seen blame himself heavily when things go wrong, like after his decision to arm the Enforcers with Hextech weapons led to disastrous fallout. If he started to believe that his actions were causing you pain or holding you back, those insecure thoughts could push him to make the heartbreaking choice to let you go.
Another major reason might be to protect you. As a public figure, tied to the Hextech legacy and Piltover’s council, there’s always a risk of danger surrounding him. The idea of his enemies harming you because of your connection with him would be unbearable. He’d rather live the ache of losing you than risk you getting hurt because of him
We’ve seen how much he struggled with his emotions— like when he broke down after seeing the destruction on the bridge blockade (and threw up over the bridge, yikes) or when Viktor revealed his illness. And don’t get me started on his face when he saw one of the smugglers helping with the Shimmer was a child.
Before actually saying the words, he’d spend sleepless nights agonising over the decision, rehearsing his explanation until his head starts pounding. When the moment comes, Jayce would be nothing but straightforward and compassionate though (even though he’s dying inside and would break into a sob if you keep looking at him like that)
I can see him blame himself more than necessary. His emotional driven nature means he could take on too much guilt. He would reassure you repeatedly that he still cares about you and you deserve better or that he didn’t want to hold you back. It’s not that he doesn’t love you— it’s that he loves you too much to put you in harms way or causing you unhappiness
If the breakup wasn’t his choice, it would devastate him. His idealism and compassion runs deep, and losing someone he loves deeply would make him feel like a failure.
While Jayce isn’t naive in the traditional sense, his trusting and tendency to act impulsive sometimes might make you feel like he’s putting others’ agendas above your own values or your relationship. If you feel like his choices are constantly being driven by outside influences, or his passion for progress leaves little room for the two of you, it could push you to make the decision to leave.
Other reasons could be an imbalance of ambition. You might reach to a point where you feel emotionally drained, unable to keep up with the pace or the expectations of someone so involved in shaping the future of Piltover— and staying longer could be daunting
Jayce would respect your decisions, even though it hollowed him out. This brings me back to the sadness in Jayce’s eyes when Viktor left him, ending his partnership with him.
He might try to make amends, but he wouldn’t force you to stay. You might catch a glimpse of his heartbreak the way he buries himself in work, pushing himself harder than ever to keep his mind occupied
📄 𝐅𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Jayce is incredibly ambitious, and even before his rise to the Council, he was locked in with his studies at Piltover Academy. Marriage wouldn’t necessarily be at the forefront of his mind— at least, not until he feels like he’s reaching a point where it makes sense for him to settle down
That being said, Jayce is also emotional and very passionate. If you were in a committed relationship, he might consider the idea of marriage. Though he would make sure his other goals, like completing his work or studies, were handled first. It’s the practical and plausible choice in his eyes
When it comes to cultural norms in Piltover, particularly among the elite, there’s a focus on status, achievements, and societal contributions over personal milestones such as marriages. And if marriage was considered, it’s often seen as a catalyst for strengthening alliances or enhancing social standings
This might influence Jayce, especially after becoming a Council Member. While navigating the political implications of marriage, he refuses to prioritise it for political reasons. He wouldn’t let it dictate something as important as his love life. For Jayce, marriage would only be on the table if it was based on genuine love and commitment— not ulterior motives
In the end, it might just work in his favour. A marriage built on love could serve as a stabilising force for him, painting him as a family man who values commitment and balance— a sentiment that even the Piltover’s elites would admire and trust
📄 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Jayce has always shown his gentler side throughout the show, especially more so with his interactions with Viktor. One stand out moment is when Jayce gave up his seat during a council meeting so Viktor can sit comfortably— a simple gesture that speaks volume. It shows his attentiveness to the needs of those he cares about.
And when Viktor confides in him about his illness, Jayce doesn’t brush it aside. We see more of his reassurance in the last scene, telling Viktor that he was ‘never broken’. Anyways, I’m not just here to talk about him and Viktor.
Jayce approaches delicate situations with care, and as his romantic partner, you’d see that same emotional depth and consideration
His gentleness isn’t just emotional though, it’s physical too. His relationship with Mel is a perfect example. Even if their relationship had a political undertone, you can see Jayce being tender with her during their private moments, as if he’s always mindful of his touch and presence
As his partner, you would expect him to be just as tender with you. Whether it’s stroking your hand during a tough conversation or holding your chin while tilting your head up to look at him. Jayce doesn’t rush— he takes his time to show his care, both his actions and words
Part of this stems from his upbringing. His warm and respectful relationship with his mother is something he carries into how he treats others, and it’s evident that he values meaningful connections (his mother taught him well)
📄 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
My God….where do I even start. To say this man isn’t a hugger is like saying the earth is flat. You know you’re lying to yourself
I cannot get over the scene where Jayce hugged Viktor before Viktor left him. You could see the yearning in his eyes when he pulled away
He’d definitely be the first to initiate a hug with his romantic partner. He’d take every opportunity to do so, especially if you’re in need of comfort or reassurance
Jayce’s hugs are unmatched. With his height and broad frame, you feel completely enveloped— like nothing in the world could hurt you. Bonus point for those biceps— when he wraps his arms around you, it’s a whole experience. It’ll leave you feeling protected, and completely loved
📄 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮.𝐝𝐨𝐜
The first time Jayce confessed his love to you (and he definitely confessed first— have you seen the yearning in his eyes in the series?), he probably said something along the lines of ‘I’m in love with you.’ Words are powerful to him, and he needed to say something that truly expressed the depth of his feelings
A half-assed ‘I really like you’ wouldn’t have been enough for him— it wouldn’t even scratch the surface of what he felt. He wanted you to know, without any shadow of a doubt, how much you meant to him
And okay, technically, that might have not been a straight forward ‘I love you’ but it was the first time he used the word love. That counts for something, right?
It didn’t take him long to say those three words, though. I can picture it happening in one of his happiest moments with you— maybe after you surprised him with a gift, or did something meaningful that hit him right in the heart. Riding that high of happiness, he’d look at you with the biggest grin on his face and just let the words slip “I love you”
He’d probably laugh softly right after, a little sheepish but not at all regretful before sealing it with a kiss. A passionate, heartfelt one
Jayce is the type to say it more often in private, when it’s just the two of you. He doesn’t throw it around casually— every time he says it, you can tell he means it. The words don’t lose their weight, only growing stronger with every moment he spends with you
📄 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Awhh Jayce. Whenever it comes to your relationship and how he handles things, he runs on a lot of passionate emotions, which can be both a good and bad thing. He doesn’t get irrationally jealous and starts throwing hands, but he definitely has a sense of pride and protectiveness
That being said, Jayce’s jealousy doesn’t come from possessiveness but rather from a deep-rooted fear of inadequacy or not being good enough for you. It’s not about him doubting you— it’s about him doubting himself
When jealousy creeps in, he doesn’t lash out or make a scene. Instead you might notice subtle changes— he becomes quieter, more distracted and overall a little less cheerful. He struggles to hide how much it’s bothering him, but it’s obvious in the way his usual enthusiasm and affection falters
When it’s really eating at him, he might let out a passive-aggressive remark. Though he doesn’t mean to, and it usually comes out more awkwardly than anything. If you ask him directly what’s wrong, he’ll brush it off with a humour-laced excuse, cracking a joke to deflect the situation (which lands awkwardly) all while feeling uneasy inside
It’s not until the weight of his overthinking gets too much to bear that he finally gives in and tells you “I don’t know I just…do you think I’m good enough for you?” It’s not just the jealousy, but the fear behind that’s talking
He didn’t expect you to laugh softly— not at him, but at how adorable he looked, all flustered and overthinking everything. You cupped his face and reassured him that he has absolutely no reason to doubt himself or your love. You kissed him softly, reminding him that you chose him, and no one else.
Jayce melted under your reassurance, his shoulders finally relaxed. He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and muttered about how silly he’s being. You could tell from the way his hands lingered on yours that your words meant everything to him
📄 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
This is always my favourite headcanon to write up. Smooches. I've definitely rewatch the scene of Jayce and Mel’s first kiss more times than I’d care to admit, just so I could see how Jayce kisses his partner
The first time he confessed his love to you, and you returned the feeling, he was ecstatic. But he also didn’t want to be too forward (even though he’d dreamed about kissing you so many times). Instead, he softly kissed your knuckles. It was such a sweet, chivalrous gesture, and quickly became one of his go-to ways of showing affection. He even lowers his head every time to meet your hand, like a knight bowing before their queen
Forehead kisses are also his signature, especially if you’re shorter than him. He find them warm and protective, a way of silently showing his presence
Now, kisses from you turn him into an absolute puddle. Surprise kisses are his ultimate weakness. The first time you caught him off guard, he just stood there, startled. Blinking like you’d short-circuited his brain. You pulled back with an innocent look, and he ended up rubbing the back of his neck, trying (and failing) to hide how flustered he was
There’s one moment where you hugged him from behind and kissed the back of his neck. He didn’t even know he was into neck kisses like that until you did it. He’s too shy to bring it up, but secretly hopes you’ll do it again (you absolutely should). Cheek kisses and forehead kisses from you are also high on the list, but the neck kiss is a core memory now
First time you shared a kiss, it felt like his whole world was muted. I can imagine him tilting your head up from your chin, and his eyes flicked between yours and your lips. while his heart is jackhammering inside his chest like crazy (how were you even more beautiful up close?). He almost hesitated, but when your eyes softened in anticipation, he leaned in.
The first kiss was gentle, almost weary, like he was testing the waters. But when you kissed him back, he couldn’t help but deepen it slightly, tilting his head to fit against you perfectly. That moment would be burned into his psych forever— how your soft lips felt against his, the way you made his chest tighten and stomach flutter.
📄 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
We haven’t really seen many paternal characteristics from Jayce in the series, so it’s a bit hard to pinpoint exactly how he would be as a father
However, based on the traits that shows throughout the series— his care for others, and his passion— I feel confident that he would be a good father (I can definitely see him asking his child to hold a flashlight while he’s working on a project in the lab, giving them the “mini assistant” title)
That said, fatherhood might not come naturally to him right away. The idea of having his own children wouldn’t initially cross his mind, especially how busy he is in the lab, and his additional duties as a councillor
Even if you do introduce the idea of having children, he would feel a little skeptical. Losing his father at a young age would play a role in his doubts— he didn’t grow up with an official father figure and might question if he's equipped for that role himself.
It would take time and some extra convincing for him to warm up to having children. But the moment you conceive, or once you finalise the adoption, everything changes.
When your belly starts to show, he would be all over you and the baby. He’d drop to his knees just to feel the baby kicking, resting his palms gently on your bump while murmuring sweet words to you and the little one
Once the baby is born— or if you do end up adopting— a switch flips inside him. He takes doting on the child to a whole new level. Sometimes, it might come off as overbearing (like when he creates an ultra-organised schedule for feeding, nap times, changing the diaper, and even tummy time)
Of course, he’s a man of science, Jayce comes prepared. Expect him to research everything about childcare— I’m talking crossing the t’s and dotting the i’s. Even applying scientific precision to parenthood.
But he’s also adjusting to the new lifestyle as much as you, so there will definitely be hiccups. At first he’s a bit of a nervous wreck— fumbling through diaper changes and fretting over the baby crying. But over time, he grows into the role, becoming a loving father.
📄 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Naturally, Jayce would be an early riser— first as a dedicated student, then as a councillor with more duties. However, ever since you started living together, waking up to your warmth has made getting out of bed a lot harder
If he had the choice, he would sleep in just to stay wrapped up in you, basking in your presence. But the world doesn’t stop spinning, and the duties won’t take care of themselves
He showers first thing in the morning to wake himself up— probably preferring warm showers over cold ones. At this time, he prefers to be alone while freshening up, needing the quiet moment to fully wake up
On his mornings, he tends to rush through breakfast— even skip it entirely. But with you around, you always remind him to eat properly. While dressing, he multitasks, skimming through his reports with one hand while fastening his cuffs with the other
If he had to give a speech that day, you help him rehearse one last time in your room. He always steals a quick kiss on the cheek or on the lips before heading out. A quick thank you before the chaos of the day begins
On his days off however, he would definitely use the opportunity to stay in bed with you. Morning cuddles are non-negotiable. You’ll see a softer, almost puppy-like side of him— nuzzling into you, sneaking extra kisses, even draping himself over you just to keep you in bed longer
📄 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.𝐝𝐨𝐜
It’s no surprise that Jayce often comes home late, exhausted from council meetings and Hextech work. Some nights, he doesn’t make it home at all, caught up in duties or attending evening events
If he’s working late in the lab, he tends to lose track of time, completely immersed in his research. He’s a workaholic when it comes to science, and sometimes, it takes you reminding him to step away and actually come to bed
On particularly long days, he’s so drained that he flops onto the bed fully clothed and immediately falls asleep. It’s happened more times than once— until you stepped in and stopped him
You help him out of his jacket and boots, and in return, he presses a tired but grateful kiss against your lips or forehead. Even when he’s dead tired, he still checks in on you, asking about your day— though don’t be surprised if he drifts off mid-conversation, lulled by exhaustion
On rare nights when he comes home early, the atmosphere is more relaxed. He enjoys having tea with you, unwinding as you both share stories about your day.
In bed, he pulls you close, whether you’re talking or just enjoying the quiet together. Physical touch is comfort to him, and even in his sleep, his arms always finds its way around you
If he comes home to find you already sleeping, he slips into bed carefully, wraps an arms round you from behind, plants a kiss to your shoulder before drifting off to sleep
He definitely sleeps better with you besides him— it’s probably something scientific, oxytocin level or whatever— but he knows with you there, he’s at peace
📄 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Whenever I think of Jayce being open and vulnerable, I think of his relationship with Mel— especially more so when he rests his head on her lap. One of his lines that stood out to me was “nothing feels impossible when I’m with you”
So I think I can confidently say that with Jayce, it won’t take long for him to reveal things about himself, after he fully trusts you. He’s not the type of person that has a tough shell exterior (Thank God), even if front of the council, where we’ve seen how easily his emotions can show when he’s under pressure
Though he wouldn’t reveal everything at once, when you are alone together there might be some moments of silence and others where he opens up about his past: the House Talis, his family’s business, and how he was expected to join— but instead, he pursued his passion for science and became a scholar in the Academy
Sometimes it might take a little longer to talk about things he sees as personal failures or flaws, like the unintended consequences of his decisions or the guilt he carries for not always living up to his ideals. He might hesitate, afraid to burden you, but you always listen attentively and the way you reassure him makes it easier for him to talk
He would open up more with time, especially about his ambitions and fears. Most of these heartfelt, vulnerable conversations would happen when you’re alone in bed together, with the stillness of the night and the soft glow of your light where he feels safe
📄 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
This is a bit of a two-sided coin. And let me explain why.
On one hand, we could see Jayce tirelessly working on Hextech during his early Academy days. Back when he didn’t have a lot on his plate and was just still a student— he always pushed forward with determination. His persistence show he doesn’t let setbacks anger him, even when the Council doubted his research
Based on this, I imagine Jayce as someone who would patiently listen attentively to his partner, hearing you out on your problems, trying to find a solution without immediately jumping into anger. If arguments do happen, he’d avoid raising his voice, though he’d still stand firm on his beliefs. I feel like he’d process his emotions first, calming down before returning to the conversation
However, after becoming a Councillor, we see his patience start to wear thinner under the weight of his new responsibilities. His duties have multiplied, and the stakes have gotten much higher. We see his argument with Viktor over the bridge blockade.
By this point, he’s juggling political pressure, the Hextech weaponisation, and his own guilt over the chaos unfolding in Piltover and the Undercity. His frustration boils over because he and Viktor are no longer fully aligned, and Viktor questions his decisions
This is a rare moment of Jayce misdirecting his anger— his frustration at the whole situation, but Viktor ends up on the receiving end because Jayce is overwhelmed (not that I’m saying this is excusable)
I’m not saying that Jayce would snap at his partner easily— he’s still incredibly caring— but under extreme stress, his patience might fray, especially if he feels unsupported in difficult situations. That said, Jayce would immediately regret it. He doesn’t like being at odds with the people he loves, and he works quickly to apologise and make things right
📄 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
One of the first things that comes to mind from the series is how Jayce never forgets the people who’ve helped him. After returning from the Arcane, he made it his mission to fulfil his promise to Viktor. Also, even as a councillor, despite his growing responsibilities, he still tries to check in on him, showing how much he values those close to him
That being said, Jayce would absolutely make an effort to remember details about his partner— especially if it’s something important to you. If you casually mention wanting something but never getting around to buying it, don’t be surprised if he gifts it to you later, acting like it’s no big deal
Another thing that proves how sentimental Jayce can be is his relationship with his mother. He still carries the medallion she gave him, a reminder of where he came from and the people who support him
Speaking of sentimentality— one year, on his birthday, you’ve gifted him a custom brooch, something small yet meaningful. Ever since then, he wears it on his jacket during council meetings, a quiet reminder of you no matter where he goes (that’s canon now)
📄 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜
One of Jayce’s favourite memories in your relationship is the time you surprised him with a telescope for his lab. You’d remember him casually mentioning how he was interested in astronomy and how owning a telescope would be pretty amazing. He never expected you to actually act on that passing comment
The morning he walked into your lab and saw it there, he was completely floored. From that day on, it became a tradition to spend every other night together in his lab, stargazing through the telescope and poring over his astronomy books
Those nights under the stars, where you both connected over something so simple yet meaningful, became a core memory for him. It wasn’t just the telescope, but the thoughtfulness behind the gift and how it brought you closer
📄 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
A lover boy like Jayce Talis is bound to have a protective streak to match. Argue with the wall. If he would sacrifice himself to save humanity, then what makes you think he wouldn’t move mountains for his partner?
One of the scenes that has highlighted this to me was when Jayce saw that the Hexcore had saved Viktor’s life. When Heimerdinger instructed for him to destroy it, Jayce gets defensive— for Viktor. (I don’t know, I just love seeing Jayce get mad when it comes to protecting his loved ones. What a man!)
With that scene, I can totally see Jayce standing up for you, even in your absence. The last thing we wants is hearing people talking bad about his beloved. He doesn’t get aggressive, but he would be firm and commanding when defending you— especially to anybody who dares to overstep
That being said, he absolutely values a partner who truly believes in his work and isn’t afraid to stand up by him when the rest of the world is against him. Even though he doesn’t necessarily need someone to fight his battles, knowing that you’ve got his back just as much as he has yours will always give him the confidence he needs
Additionally, this man is physically strong. We’ve seen his physique in the forge scene, as well as his ability to wield the Mercury Hammer. I can only imagine how heavy that is, and he handles it like it’s a toy. So, of course, he would use his strength to physically protect you from danger (even if he doesn’t know how to fight)
As protective as Jayce is of you, he craves to feel secure and supported by his partner. You being his steady source of encouragement and emotional protection means the world to him. He might not outright ask for it, but small gestures— like gently reminding him to take a break and drink water— would make him feel loved and safe. Security in a relationship goes both ways and nothing feels insurmountable with you
📄 𝐓𝐫𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
With everything that I’ve described about Jayce so far, it wouldn’t make sense to say he wouldn’t put effort into your relationship. He isn’t the one to half-heartedly approach anything
We see a snippet of this in the series, all the way back to Season 1. After Caitlyn is suspended from the Enforcers by her mother, Jayce visits her and offers her a position as his personal bodyguard. While she does ultimately declines, this highlights how he tries to support and protect the people he cares about, even when they’re at a low point
Now imagine the level of care and attention he’ll bring to his romantic partner. Jayce would be the type to take anniversaries and birthdays seriously, plan them well in advance. Whether it’s an extravagant dinners at one of Piltover finest restaurants or a quiet night home in front of the fire, he’d make sure every detail is thoughtful and personal to you
Speaking of personal, Jayce would definitely be the type to make handmade gifts in his forge. One year, he surprised you with a metal rose for your birthday, each petal crafted with care
And let’s not forget the big one— your engagement ring. I saw a headcanon that Jayce would craft the ring himself, and I’m fully on board with the idea. That’s my our man right there!
Every moment of his labour, every drop of sweat from his pores, would be worth it to see the look on your face when he gets down on one knee and asks you the ultimate question. (And yes, he absolutely daydreams about that moment more often than he’d admit)
📄 𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
My brain was a little all over the place when I came this this letter, so let’s break it down
One of Jayce’s common flaws— something that’s pretty evident early in the first season— is his naïveté. He has moments where he lets other people’s influence guide his decision, like the councils agenda or Mel’s early manipulation
This habit could be deep into your relationship, too. He might unintentionally hurt you by prioritising the wrong thing or listening to other people’s opinion over yours, even when he means well. He’s not malicious, but it can still sting
Another habit of his (that’s tied to how much responsibility he carries) is his tendency to overwork himself. He takes on more than he can handle— working late in the lab, balancing council duties, or trying to fix every problem by himself
Because of this, he might struggle to make time for you. It’s not intentional, but you could feel neglected at times. And if he doesn’t pace himself, it could lead to burnout or moments where he’s short-tempered from stress— and you’d end up being on the receiving end
None of this means he doesn’t care about you, though. If anything, Jayce’s flaws come from how much he cares about everyone else. It’s just that sometimes, in trying to take care of the world, he forgets to care for himself. And you
📄 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
After being appointed to the Council, Jayce definitely started putting more effort into his appearance. As the voice of progress and the co-founder of Hextech, all eyes are on him, so looking presentable is part of the job (not that it take much effort with Jayce)
The white jacket with the gold accents on the maroon shoulder pads show that he’s polished and takes pride in his status. The Talis family crest on his outfit is a reminder that he hasn’t forgotten his roots (plus the hammer doubling as the letter T is a chef’s kiss design choice)
Later in Season 2, we see him clean up after being stuck in the chaos of the Arcane. He ditches his council robe for a sharp black dress shirt with a white jacket (though I prefer it without the jacket, and definitely not because we get a better view of his biceps)
Honestly, I’m still vexed that we only got to see him in that outfit for a few scenes. It was easily his coldest look, and I think dark colours suit him more— it might be the scruff and the longer hair that really ties it all together
📄 𝐖𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Whenever I think of Jayce, I’ve always seen him as independent. From his early Academy days, he was immersed in his research, working in the lab to chase his vision for Hextech. Even before that, it was just him and his mother growing up— he learned earlier on to rely on himself to push through life’s challenges.
But even Jayce knows the importance of connections. After all, it was the Kirammans patronage that gave him the foundation he needed to bring his dream to life. He’s never truly been alone, even if he feels like the world was on his shoulders
With that in mind, it’s hard to imagine Jayce feeling entirely ‘incomplete’ without you. He has his work, his allies, and his sense of purpose to keep him moving forward. But that’s not to say you haven’t profoundly changed his life for the better. Being your partner has opened new doors for him, feelings he didn’t fully understand before— love, partnership, and the comfort of knowing someone sees him for who he truly is.
You’ve given him something deeper than any political alliance or patronage could— a sense of belonging and a safe space.
If, God forbid, the two of you were to ever separate, he'll keep going because that’s who he is. But there’d be a deep-rooted sadness, a yearning in the quiet moments where he’d normally share his thoughts and vulnerabilities with you. He’d still have work, the Kirammans, and the weight of Piltover's progress— but none of it will fill the space you left behind
📄 𝐗𝐭𝐫𝐚.𝐝𝐨𝐜
This headcanon has nothing to do with your relationship, but rather, Jayce’s signature scent. As a Councilman, an inventor, and former Academy scholar, his fragrance reflects his polished, ambitious image— but without overshadowing the warm, approachable demeanor that makes him so charming
You can always tell when he’s in the room— his cologne lingers just enough to leave a lasting impression, but it’s never overpowering
Here’s what I think his scent would be like:
Base note— I imagine sandalwood or cedarwood, which gives the fragrance a rich, slightly smoky essence that feels masculine
Heart note— maybe amber or vanilla. Adding a touch of sweetness that mirrors his good-natured personality
Top note— cardamon for a bright, sophisticated opening that reflects his confidence and intellect
A luxurious scent that speaks to his taste— polished, yet warm and undeniably Jayce
📄 𝐘𝐮𝐜𝐤.𝐝𝐨𝐜
For someone who genuinely does have a good heart— someone driven by passion and ideals— it’s not surprising that Jayce has a few deal breakers in a partner. Whiles he’s not one to judge so hastily, certain behaviours and mindsets could clash with his values and make the relationship unsustainable
Jayce is a man with vision. He dreams to unite magic and technology has defined his life, and we’ve seen how deeply he pours into his work. Do you know how hard it is to build new technology, as well as harnessing magic? Back in his Academy days, when everyone doubted him (including his mother) he hit his lowest point. He knows how it feels to have your efforts dismissed, so he thrives on encouragement (we’ve seen it from Caitlyn).
A partner who undermines his ambition or brushes off his ideas would cut deep. He could handle skepticism from strangers, but the love of his life— that would wound him
He’s also a man who strives for progress— not just for himself, but for the world. His vision for innovation isn’t just for selfish reasons— he wants to help improve lives. So, if his partner was indifferent to larger issues or uninterested in changing the world, that disconnection could create a rift between the two of you. Jayce is someone who wants to share his dreams, not feel like he’s dragging someone along
Jayce is vulnerable when it comes to his personal life. He thrives off of constructive criticism when it’s beneficial. But constants belittling from his partner who only points out his flaws while ignoring his effort, would chip away at his confidence. He already struggles with his self-doubt at time, but harsh words from you would only amplify the dark voice of his doubts
And going back to his emotional nature. I’ve mentioned earlier that Jayce isn’t the type to call quits immediately, even when the red flag starts to appear. He would try to make it work, holding onto hope and trying to see the best in you. But if the relationship is starting to drain his energy rather than uplifting him, even his optimistic heart would have to let go
📄 𝐙𝐳𝐳.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Have you ever seen a koala hugging a tree? Now, imagine Jayce as the koala and you as the tree. Are you getting the vision?
When you sleep together, he’s quick to have his arms clutching around you. His face is either buried in the crook of your neck or resting on your chest— all while being the small spoon (how greedy)
However, Jayce tends to forget that his body runs hot naturally, especially when he’s already half-asleep. So you’ll often wake up feeling like you’re trapped in a furnace of his body heat
On warmer nights, he would sleep shirtless, of course. He also loves the skin-to-skin contact when he’s cuddling you. It’s his favourite way to fall asleep
It’s hard to predict when the nsfw version will be posted. But if already liked the wholesome HC and want early access to the explicit stuff (I know you do 👁️👁️), I will be posting it on ao3 first. They will be posted here
𝐂𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐖: established relationship, found family, child neglect, adoption, angst, arguing
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You bring home an abandoned baby from the Undercity, and Jayce helps you raise her, only to later uncover the tragic past she carries.
Exhaustion and tension seeped into his bones as he made his way home. The sun had long disappeared behind the horizon, casting the streets of Piltover in a muted glow.
Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the council meetings, political manoeuvring, and endless errands dragging onto every step.
When he reached his front door, he hesitated for a moment. Inhaling deeply. The quiet comfort of his home was on the other side of the wall, and he needed it more than anything.
Turning the keys and opening the door, Jayce stepped into the threshold, a yawn escaping his mouth as he closed the door behind him.
The house was quiet, minus the slight creak of the floorboards beneath his boots. Then, you appeared from the living space, greeting a warm smile that melted the tension in his chest.
You didn’t waste a second to cross the room and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. If it weren’t for his fatigue, Jayce might’ve indulged more— he wanted to— but even the brief contact eased something in him.
He had been away for two whole days, buried in his work that demanded his full attention. It felt like a lifetime, but now, he stood here with you. The world beyond the four walls of the house seemed a whole world away.
You pulled away from the kiss, your hands still resting on his shoulders as you looked up at him.
“Missed you.” You murmured softly.
Jayce leaned forward and rested his forehead on yours. It was a quiet ritual that grounded him. As if he could draw strength from your presence.
“Missed you too,” he whispered, his voice low and raw.
His arms circled around your waist, pulling you closer. In your embrace, he always felt lighter— like a man he used to be without the responsibility and political threat pulling him under. Here, he wasn’t the “Voice of Progress”. He was just Jayce.
For a moment, you both stayed like this, staying wrapped in each other. A wordless comfort that neither of you had to explain. Eventually, you gently pulled backs, you hands trailing down his arms and prolonging the contact before you stepped away.
“I’ll make the tea,” you said softly. “And you can tell me everything that had happened.”
You turned and headed to the kitchen, leaving Jayce to peel off his jacket. The garment felt heavier than usual— the dense fabric seemed to carry the weight of the day’s argument and debate.
He hung it in the cloak room with care, as if putting the burden of Piltover on pause. With a deep breath, he followed the sound of your footsteps into the kitchen.
You were kindling a fire beneath a stove, the faint crackle of the flames mixed with the bubbling of the water. The gentle, earthy aroma of steeping leaves filled the air around you both.
Once the tea had brewed to the perfect richness, you poured the amber liquid into two tea cups and placed them carefully onto a tray. Jayce stepped forward and lifted the tray with his strong hands and carried it to the living room.
He set the tray down on the table before taking a seat— cup in hand with the warmth seeping in his fingertips.
As he talked through the events of the past two days he was away, it dawned on him how much it helped to unpack his rigid thoughts. The transition from the high pressure world of his job as a councillor to the warmth of your shared home felt like disarming an invisible shield.
Having someone outside of the political sphere to confide to kept him grounded. You reminded him of what he was fighting for, why he endured the endless demands.
When he finished his tea, Jayce caught the way you were watching him. There was something behind your gaze— hesitation, or maybe nerves— as if you were waiting for the right moment to say something. His brow furrowed with curiosity.
“So…” you began, carefully choosing your next words. “I have something to show you.”
Jayce straightened in his seat, his heart giving an involuntary thud from anticipation. Your tone and unreadable expression on your face made it hard to tell if he should be excited or skeptical.
He tried to gauge your intent but couldn’t pinpoint what was going on, so he decided to go along with it, tilting his head slightly.
“I’m all ears,” he said, offering a reassuring smile.
You didn’t say anything else. Instead, you rose from your seat and beckoned him to follow. His curiosity only grew, his mind racing with possibilities.
You led him to your shared bedroom. Jayce stepped faltered when he realised you were trying to block his view as you retrieved whatever it was you wanted to show him. The knot in his stomach tightened further.
You came back, cradling a bunch of mismatch blankets carefully in your arms, as though they held something precious.
His brow furrows in confusion as he takes in the sight of you clutching what looks like a pile of laundry.
“What’s all this?” he asked, stepping closer to study the bundle you carried so delicately. “Did something happen?”
You glanced down at the bunch of blankets in your arm, your expression softened with a tender look. Before you could answer, a soft, plaintive cry broke through the silence.
Jayce froze, a chill racing up his spine at the unexpected sound. His gaze snapped to the bundle, baffled.
“Is that…?” He steps closer, leaning in to get a better look.
Carefully, you pull back a corner of the blanket, revealing the baby’s delicate face. Her eyes were scrunched shut, her soft cheeks flushed pink as she let out another tiny wail.
Jayce could only stare, his mouth slightly agape, completely at loss for words.
A baby. An actual baby crying in your arms.
His mind spun, a rush of questions crashing into one another, each getting louder and more urgent. But before he could voice any of them, you spoke again, your tone laced with something deeper.
“I found her in the Undercity,” you said, tightening your grip on the baby protectively “She was left in a cardboard box with a note. Her mother didn’t want her.”
The baby stirred in your arms, one tiny hand peeking out from the fold of the blanket. Her fingers curled instinctively, the fragile motion pulled something aching in Jayce’s chest.
The weight of your words hung in the air, heavy and heartbreaking. His heart sank at the circumstances that could lead to this, but the weight was quickly replaced by a new tension.
He had an idea— and uneasy realisation— of where this conversation was going.
He looked at the baby, still letting out small cries, and then to you. Searching your face of some kind of elaboration that might make all of this make sense.
“And…you just brought her here?” he asked. “Brought her home?”
There was a flicker of defiance in your eyes as you lifted your chin.
“What else was I supposed to do, Jayce? Leave her there? She was so small, so… helpless. I couldn’t just walk away.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at the baby again. “I mean, yeah, but… this is huge. A baby isn’t just—she’s not a stray cat or something. This is… wow.” He trails off, struggling to find the right words.
“She doesn’t even have a name yet,” you murmured, your voice soft as you cradled the baby closer to your chest. The little one stirred in your arms but didn’t cry, settling as though your presence alone was enough to sooth her.
Jayce felt his throat dry as he watched you, the sight stirred something foreign in him. You looked…natural holding her like that— your touch gentle yet protective. He felt something he couldn’t quite name— an instinctive pull.
But he couldn’t let the seed of desire plant itself in his mind. Not when the reality of the situation was so dire.
He forced himself exhaled slowly, bearing his teeth as the weight of the situation started to settle over him like a heavy cloak.
“What do you want to do? Are you… are you planning to keep her?”
“She deserves a chance,” you voice was steady, despite the tremble in your hands. “And I want to raise her.”
Your conviction pierced through his confusion, making it impossible to dismiss what you were saying. Not that he could, especially with something like this.
The mere thought of you bringing home a baby— nurturing her to her fill, cradling her, making this monumental decision— all while he had no idea, hit him like crashing waves.
Doing this all alone, without him, only made it harder for him to process. His mind spiralled, trying to wrap itself around what it meant for you now moving forward. Did you even fully think this through?
He knew you were naturally empathetic, especially when it came to anything vulnerable or in need of care. But taking home a baby wasn’t just another compassionate act, it was a whole new responsibility and he wasn’t sure you even thought beyond that.
And worse, you hadn’t come to him first. You didn’t ask him, confide in him, or even hinted at what you were planning. The realisation stung.
It wasn’t just the decision that unsettled him— it was the fact that you’d made it without him. A flicker of hurt sparkles in his chest, feeding into the mounted frustration.
Suddenly, the room felt stuffy, too small to hold the gravity of this moment. The tea from earlier churned uneasily in his stomach, causing a sour lump of nausea.
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing from one end of the room to the other. Meanwhile, you took your seat on the bed, cradling the newborn against your chest with a silent determination. Shielding her from the storm that was brewing inside of him.
Jayce stops pacing and turns to you, his voice firm but not unkind. “This is a bad idea.”
He couldn’t suppress his frustration now.
You stiffen, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean this, all of it,” he says, gesturing to the baby. “You just found her in Zaun, and now you’re—what? Planning to raise her? Just like that?”
You bristle, your arms tightening protectively around the baby. “She was abandoned, Jayce. She doesn’t have anyone else.”
“I get that, but this is… it’s huge.” Each syllable of his words escalated in pitch, trying to hammer some sense into you. His hands moved as if trying to grab hold of the spiral emotions between you “Taking in a baby isn’t something you can just decide on a whim. Do you even know what it takes to raise a child? The time, the resources? It’s not just about wanting to help—it’s about being able to,”
“What are you saying, Jayce?” you shot back. “That I should’ve just left her there? Pretend I didn’t see her?”
“No!” he says quickly, his tone softening. “I’m not saying that. But there are people—systems—that handle this kind of thing. Places that—”
You cut him off, a flare of heat in your tone. “Places like what? Orphanages? Do you have any idea what happens to kids in Zaun, Jayce? Even the ‘good’ places are overcrowded and underfunded.”
You stopped yourself, breathing hard, realising your voice was rising. You glanced down at the baby in your arms, expression softened instantly as her small face remained in a peaceful sleep.
The sight of you stirred something in Jayce again. The pull he couldn’t grasp— something that tugged at his heart, clouding his thoughts with an unspoken ache.
You as a mother, the baby nestled safely in your arms.
But he shook his head, forcing himself to push the thought aside. He needed to stay grounded.
You spoke again, your voice quieter now but there was still that fire. “And the bad ones…they don’t even survive. I wasn’t going to let that happen to her.”
That struck him harder than he expected, the words settling heavy on his chest. Jayce ran a hand down his face, feeling caught between the logic of the situation and the unshakable yearning growing in his chest— two forces yanking him in opposite directions.
He sighed, long and slow, and pinched the bridge of his nose, searching for the right words. “I just… I think you’re rushing into this without thinking it through,” he paused, the words starting to strain. “You’re already stretched thin, living between Zaun and Piltover. And me? I’m a Councillor. My life is under a microscope. If word gets out that I’m involved in something like this—”
“Something like what?” you snap, standing up abruptly. The baby stirred, but you quickly adjusted your arms, soothing her back to sleep. There it was again— that fire. The ferocity. “Caring about someone who needs help? Doing the right thing?”
Jayce falters, guilt flickering across his face. He hadn’t meant it the way it sounded, but there was no denying how harsh it came out.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly.
You shook your head, eyes narrowing as you turned away from him. “I don’t care what the Council thinks of me, Jayce. I’m doing this. With or without you.”
The baby turned her head as she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, searching for sustenance. Her fist drew closer to her mouth, and she started sucking on it with soft muffled noises.
You took this as a sign to leave the conversation and headed towards the kitchen. It was the baby’s feeding time.
Jayce lingered for a moment, his feet rooted to the floor, but the nagging pull to follow you was too strong. His thoughts still whirled chaotically— your words replaying in his head and the effect it had on him was still residual— but his focus shifted as he watched you move with fluidity.
All he could do now was watch as you cradled the baby in your arm, your figure moving with purpose through the kitchen. Jayce's eyes flickered to your arm, which reached for a baby bottle and milk formula in the cabinet.
One he hadn’t seen before. When had you gone out and brought that?
He stood silently in the kitchen doorway, watching as you prepared the milk with an efficiency that surprised him. As if it was something you had done for years.
Meanwhile, the baby in your arms started to fuss a little, squirming and letting out small whimpers. Jayce noticed and felt his concern grew a little, his instinct to soothe her came unbidden.
But he didn’t move— he was transfixed by the way you handled her so gently, murmuring quiet reassurance.
Once the formula was made, you checked the temperature with your wrist and headed to take a seat in the living room. The baby was clinging onto you as though she knew she was safe in your arms.
Jayce followed again, his gaze catching on a bag sitting neatly on the counter— the content barely visible. Neatly stacked diapers, formulas and clothes so small they looked like they could fit his palm.
Not only had you brought this baby home in the two days he had been gone, but you’ve already gone out of your way to make sure she had all the supplies she needed.
You made the decision and have taken action. You were completely serious about this.
You settled on the couch, holding the baby close as you guided the bottle's nipple to her lips. It took a moment for her to latch on, but once she did, her small body eased as she began to drink.
Jayce didn’t know how long he was staring, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from what was unfolding in front of him. A mix of resignation and intrigue.
For the first time, he saw how maternal you looked— how natural you fit in the role, even if it was new and overwhelming. And the baby…she looked so fragile and helpless. It was hard to believe that someone left her abandoned in a box.
The pull he felt earlier came back— the tug in his chest at the sight of you with the baby. But this time, it morphed into something heavier, deeper the longer he watched you. Like he was plummeting from a great height.
It made his pulse quicken.
This wasn’t just about you anymore. This was about the new life you’ve brought into his home, the tiny human you have chosen to care for.
Jayce stepped closer, his voice softer this time. “You’re good at this.”
You glanced up at him, surprised by the change in his tone. “I’m just figuring it out as I go.”
He kneeled beside you, his eye now fixed on the baby. He reached out hesitantly, brushing some of the baby’s hair from her forehead. She flinched at the sudden contact, but quickly relaxed and continued with her feed.
Once the bottle was empty, you carefully pulled the bottle away and sat her up on your lap. For the first time, the baby slowly opened her eyes, revealing two iridescent grey-coloured eyes— resembling a storm just before it broke.
After you tapped her back, she let out a few soft burps, the sound faint and unexpected. You seemed to keep your focus on her, as if Jayce wasn’t watching your every move— yet he still admired the way you handled her.
“How often does she need to eat?” He asked suddenly, the words leaving his mouth before he could think them through.
You shifted the baby in your arms, cradling her against your chest as her eyes slowly drooped and slipped shut.
“Every two to three hours,” you answered. “One bottle will be enough to keep her full for the next feed.”
The idea of such a routine felt overwhelming. “And what about…other things? Diapers? Sleep?”
There was a hint of exhaustion mixed with amusement in your smile. “Babies are a full time job, Jayce. She sleeps a lot at this age. And when she is awake— there’s always something to do— feeding, bathing, changing her.”
He didn’t know where the sudden curiosity came from, but he found himself asking more questions— about the baby’s cries, what she needed when she fussed, how to prepare her bottle.
And you answered every single one, patiently, as if the knowledge had come second nature in just the span of two days.
Jayce pictured the scene in his head: you alone in the house, juggling bottles and dirty diapers, the sound of her cries filling the space. Baby supplies scattered across the living room and kitchen. The fistful of broken sleeps you were running on.
He swallowed hard, a hint of guilt creeping in along with his admiration. He didn’t know how he would adjust to the new environment— this new life with a new baby in your shared home.
But hearing you answer his questions stirred something in him. Maybe it was the weight of the responsibilities starting to take root, or maybe it was the pull from earlier— now impossible to ignore.
“I’m going to put her down for the night,” you said softly, standing up from the couch. The baby’s breath was soft and even against your chest. “Come to bed when you're ready.”
Jayce nodded wordlessly, watching as you disappeared down the hallway. The soft click of the bedroom door and the house fell silent again, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock.
He sank down onto the couch, running a hand through his hair as his thoughts swirled. He couldn’t shake the image of the baby's soft cries or the way you looked at her with protectiveness, as though the world had narrowed down to just her. And the careful way you fed her.
This wasn’t what he envisioned for his life, not now at least. And yet, when he felt the pull growing in the corner of his heart, he didn’t fight it anymore. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was something deeper. He didn’t know.
He sat in one place for what felt like hours, staring at nothing in particular, the weight of the day finally settled on him. Eventually, he rose from the sofa, letting his legs carry himself to bed.
I don’t know if I’ll be continuing this series on tumblr (engagement isn’t usually the best here). But if you are interested in this story, you can find the series here