summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Curse Words??
word count: 1.7k
series masterlist
___
It happens when you least expect it.
Not during a doctor’s appointment.
Not when you’re paying attention.
Not when you’re ready.
You’re sitting on the couch, one leg tucked beneath you, a blanket draped loosely across your lap. The TV is on, but you’re not really watching it—just letting the noise fill the space while your mind drifts somewhere else.
Lately, that’s been happening more.
Your thoughts pulling inward.
Settling around one thing.
One constant.
Your hand rests absentmindedly on your stomach, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns against the fabric of your shirt.
You don’t even realize you’re doing it.
It just feels natural now.
Like your body knows before your mind does.
The apartment is quiet.
Still.
Peaceful in a way that makes your shoulders relax just slightly.
And then—
You freeze.
Completely.
Your breath catching mid-inhale.
Because—
There.
It’s subtle.
So subtle you almost miss it.
A small, fluttering movement beneath your palm.
Not a cramp.
Not your imagination.
Something else.
Something—
Real.
Your hand stills instantly.
Your heart begins to pound.
Was that—?
You wait.
Every muscle in your body going tense, like if you move you might miss it.
And then—
It happens again.
Stronger this time.
A soft, unmistakable shift from within.
Your eyes widen.
“Oh my God…” you whisper.
Your voice barely there.
Your hand presses more firmly against your stomach, your breath coming a little quicker now.
That’s the baby.
The realization hits you all at once.
Not distant.
Not theoretical.
Right there.
Under your hand.
Alive.
Moving.
A laugh bubbles up unexpectedly, shaky and breathless all at once.
“Oh my God,” you repeat, louder this time, a mix of disbelief and something warmer—something brighter—filling your chest.
You don’t even think.
You reach for your phone.
Your fingers fumble slightly as you type.
You need to come over. Right now.
You don’t explain.
You don’t clarify.
You just hit send.
It doesn’t take long.
It never does.
The knock at your door is quick.
Urgent.
You’re already on your feet before it even finishes.
Your heart is still racing, your hand still resting protectively against your stomach like you’re afraid the moment might disappear.
You pull the door open.
Jay stands there, slightly out of breath, his eyes scanning you immediately.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
Straight to it.
Concern written all over his face.
You shake your head quickly.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, your voice trembling despite your smile.
His brows knit together.
“Then why did you—”
“It moved.”
The words come out fast.
Before you can stop them.
Before you can soften them.
Jay stills.
“...what?” he asks, quieter now.
Your hand presses against your stomach again, like you’re grounding yourself in it.
“The baby,” you say, your voice softer now. “It moved.”
The silence that follows is different.
Not tense.
Not heavy.
Just—
Still.
Like the world paused for a second.
Jay’s gaze drops immediately.
To your stomach.
Then back to your face.
Like he’s trying to process it.
Like he’s not sure how to react yet.
It moved.
The thought echoes in his head.
Real.
Immediate.
Not something he’s hearing about secondhand.
Something that just happened.
Something he missed.
“Can I—” he starts, then stops.
You nod before he can finish.
“Yeah.”
You step back, letting him inside.
Neither of you says much as you move toward the couch.
Because the moment feels too big.
Too fragile.
Like talking too much might break it.
You sit first.
Your hand already back where it was.
Waiting.
Jay sits beside you.
Closer than usual.
His attention fixed entirely on you now.
On your stomach.
On your hand.
“What did it feel like?” he asks.
His voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard it.
Careful.
You exhale softly.
“Like… a flutter,” you say. “At first I thought I imagined it.”
Your hand shifts slightly.
“Then it happened again.”
You glance at him.
“And I knew.”
Jay nods slowly.
His throat tight.
Because he wants to feel it.
Needs to.
Not just hear about it.
Not just imagine it.
“Can I?” he asks again, softer this time.
Your breath catches slightly.
But you nod.
“Yeah.”
His hand lifts.
Hovers.
Just for a second.
And you notice it.
The hesitation.
The care.
He’s nervous.
That realization softens something in you immediately.
Because you felt that too.
Earlier.
That moment of is this real?
His hand finally settles against your stomach.
Warm.
Steady.
But lighter than before.
Like he’s afraid to press too hard.
Like he might miss it.
Your hand moves over his.
Holding it there.
Keeping it in place.
And then—
You both freeze.
Because there it is.
Again.
A small, distinct movement beneath his palm.
Jay’s breath catches.
Sharp.
Immediate.
“Holy—” he cuts himself off, his eyes widening slightly.
You laugh softly, your chest tightening with something overwhelming.
“You felt that,” you whisper.
He nods, almost in disbelief.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I did.”
His hand doesn’t move.
Doesn’t even shift.
Like he’s afraid if he does, it’ll stop.
Like he’ll lose it.
That’s real.
That’s my kid.
The thought hits him deeper than anything has so far.
Not the ultrasound.
Not the appointments.
This.
This is different.
Because he felt it.
You watch him.
The way his expression softens.
The way something changes behind his eyes.
And your chest tightens again.
But not from fear.
From something warmer.
Something that feels a lot like—
Hope.
“You felt it,” you repeat softly.
He huffs out a quiet breath, almost a laugh.
“Yeah,” he says again. “I did.”
Your hand tightens slightly over his.
And for a moment—
Neither of you moves.
Neither of you speaks.
Because you don’t need to.
The moment says everything.
After a while, you lean slightly into him.
Your shoulder brushing his.
Your head resting lightly against him without thinking.
And he doesn’t move away.
Doesn’t even hesitate.
His arm shifts, settling more securely around you.
His hand still resting where it was.
Like it belongs there.
Like it always has.
“This is crazy,” he murmurs.
But his voice isn’t uncertain.
It’s softer than that.
Warmer.
You smile faintly.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
Then—
“It’s kind of amazing though.”
You feel him nod against you.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “It is.”
Your eyes close for just a second.
Just long enough to breathe.
To feel.
To let it sink in.
Because now—
There’s no denying it.
Not really.
This isn’t just something that’s happening to you.
summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Curse Words??
word count: 1.7k
series masterlist
___
It happens when you least expect it.
Not during a doctor’s appointment.
Not when you’re paying attention.
Not when you’re ready.
You’re sitting on the couch, one leg tucked beneath you, a blanket draped loosely across your lap. The TV is on, but you’re not really watching it—just letting the noise fill the space while your mind drifts somewhere else.
Lately, that’s been happening more.
Your thoughts pulling inward.
Settling around one thing.
One constant.
Your hand rests absentmindedly on your stomach, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns against the fabric of your shirt.
You don’t even realize you’re doing it.
It just feels natural now.
Like your body knows before your mind does.
The apartment is quiet.
Still.
Peaceful in a way that makes your shoulders relax just slightly.
And then—
You freeze.
Completely.
Your breath catching mid-inhale.
Because—
There.
It’s subtle.
So subtle you almost miss it.
A small, fluttering movement beneath your palm.
Not a cramp.
Not your imagination.
Something else.
Something—
Real.
Your hand stills instantly.
Your heart begins to pound.
Was that—?
You wait.
Every muscle in your body going tense, like if you move you might miss it.
And then—
It happens again.
Stronger this time.
A soft, unmistakable shift from within.
Your eyes widen.
“Oh my God…” you whisper.
Your voice barely there.
Your hand presses more firmly against your stomach, your breath coming a little quicker now.
That’s the baby.
The realization hits you all at once.
Not distant.
Not theoretical.
Right there.
Under your hand.
Alive.
Moving.
A laugh bubbles up unexpectedly, shaky and breathless all at once.
“Oh my God,” you repeat, louder this time, a mix of disbelief and something warmer—something brighter—filling your chest.
You don’t even think.
You reach for your phone.
Your fingers fumble slightly as you type.
You need to come over. Right now.
You don’t explain.
You don’t clarify.
You just hit send.
It doesn’t take long.
It never does.
The knock at your door is quick.
Urgent.
You’re already on your feet before it even finishes.
Your heart is still racing, your hand still resting protectively against your stomach like you’re afraid the moment might disappear.
You pull the door open.
Jay stands there, slightly out of breath, his eyes scanning you immediately.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
Straight to it.
Concern written all over his face.
You shake your head quickly.
“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, your voice trembling despite your smile.
His brows knit together.
“Then why did you—”
“It moved.”
The words come out fast.
Before you can stop them.
Before you can soften them.
Jay stills.
“...what?” he asks, quieter now.
Your hand presses against your stomach again, like you’re grounding yourself in it.
“The baby,” you say, your voice softer now. “It moved.”
The silence that follows is different.
Not tense.
Not heavy.
Just—
Still.
Like the world paused for a second.
Jay’s gaze drops immediately.
To your stomach.
Then back to your face.
Like he’s trying to process it.
Like he’s not sure how to react yet.
It moved.
The thought echoes in his head.
Real.
Immediate.
Not something he’s hearing about secondhand.
Something that just happened.
Something he missed.
“Can I—” he starts, then stops.
You nod before he can finish.
“Yeah.”
You step back, letting him inside.
Neither of you says much as you move toward the couch.
Because the moment feels too big.
Too fragile.
Like talking too much might break it.
You sit first.
Your hand already back where it was.
Waiting.
Jay sits beside you.
Closer than usual.
His attention fixed entirely on you now.
On your stomach.
On your hand.
“What did it feel like?” he asks.
His voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard it.
Careful.
You exhale softly.
“Like… a flutter,” you say. “At first I thought I imagined it.”
Your hand shifts slightly.
“Then it happened again.”
You glance at him.
“And I knew.”
Jay nods slowly.
His throat tight.
Because he wants to feel it.
Needs to.
Not just hear about it.
Not just imagine it.
“Can I?” he asks again, softer this time.
Your breath catches slightly.
But you nod.
“Yeah.”
His hand lifts.
Hovers.
Just for a second.
And you notice it.
The hesitation.
The care.
He’s nervous.
That realization softens something in you immediately.
Because you felt that too.
Earlier.
That moment of is this real?
His hand finally settles against your stomach.
Warm.
Steady.
But lighter than before.
Like he’s afraid to press too hard.
Like he might miss it.
Your hand moves over his.
Holding it there.
Keeping it in place.
And then—
You both freeze.
Because there it is.
Again.
A small, distinct movement beneath his palm.
Jay’s breath catches.
Sharp.
Immediate.
“Holy—” he cuts himself off, his eyes widening slightly.
You laugh softly, your chest tightening with something overwhelming.
“You felt that,” you whisper.
He nods, almost in disbelief.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I did.”
His hand doesn’t move.
Doesn’t even shift.
Like he’s afraid if he does, it’ll stop.
Like he’ll lose it.
That’s real.
That’s my kid.
The thought hits him deeper than anything has so far.
Not the ultrasound.
Not the appointments.
This.
This is different.
Because he felt it.
You watch him.
The way his expression softens.
The way something changes behind his eyes.
And your chest tightens again.
But not from fear.
From something warmer.
Something that feels a lot like—
Hope.
“You felt it,” you repeat softly.
He huffs out a quiet breath, almost a laugh.
“Yeah,” he says again. “I did.”
Your hand tightens slightly over his.
And for a moment—
Neither of you moves.
Neither of you speaks.
Because you don’t need to.
The moment says everything.
After a while, you lean slightly into him.
Your shoulder brushing his.
Your head resting lightly against him without thinking.
And he doesn’t move away.
Doesn’t even hesitate.
His arm shifts, settling more securely around you.
His hand still resting where it was.
Like it belongs there.
Like it always has.
“This is crazy,” he murmurs.
But his voice isn’t uncertain.
It’s softer than that.
Warmer.
You smile faintly.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
Then—
“It’s kind of amazing though.”
You feel him nod against you.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “It is.”
Your eyes close for just a second.
Just long enough to breathe.
To feel.
To let it sink in.
Because now—
There’s no denying it.
Not really.
This isn’t just something that’s happening to you.
summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Curse Words??
word count: 2k
series masterlist
___
The warmth of his lips lingers long after he pulls away.
You don’t move.
Not right away.
It stays there—the quiet imprint of it, the softness, the way something inside you shifted so subtly you almost missed it.
Almost.
Your fingers are still curled loosely in the fabric of his shirt when you realize it, your grip tightening just slightly before you force yourself to let go. The movement feels louder than it should, more noticeable in the silence that has settled between you.
Because something has changed.
Not in a way you can name.
But enough that you feel it.
In the air.
In your chest.
In the way your heart refuses to slow down.
Jay doesn’t step back.
He should.
You both probably should.
But he doesn’t.
And neither do you.
He stays where he is—close enough that you can still feel the warmth of him, still aware of every small shift in his breathing, every subtle movement.
The space between you feels smaller now.
More fragile.
Like it’s holding something neither of you has said out loud.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
His voice is softer than before, like he’s careful not to disturb whatever this is.
You nod.
But the answer feels incomplete.
Because you’re not just okay.
You’re aware.
Too aware.
Of him.
Of yourself.
Of the way everything feels just a little different now.
“I just…” you start, then stop.
The words don’t come easily.
They don’t fit.
Because how do you explain this?
This pull toward him that has nothing to do with the baby.
This quiet, steady shift that feels like it’s happening whether you’re ready for it or not.
You exhale softly, your gaze dropping for just a second before lifting again.
“I don’t want you to leave yet.”
The words slip out before you can soften them.
Before you can take them back.
And the moment they hang there—
Your heart stumbles.
Jay stills.
Completely.
Because he hears it.
Not just the words.
But the meaning behind them.
And it settles somewhere deep in his chest.
She wants me to stay.
Not because she needs help.
Not because of the baby.
But because of him.
The realization is quiet.
But it lingers.
“Yeah,” he says after a moment, his voice just as low. “Okay.”
And just like that—
He’s not going anywhere.
You move to the couch without really deciding to.
It happens naturally, like everything between you has lately.
You settle into one side, pulling the blanket loosely over your legs. Jay sits beside you, leaving just enough space that it feels intentional.
Respectful.
But close enough that you’re aware of him.
Always aware.
The television hums softly in the background, casting a dim, shifting light across the room. Neither of you pays attention to it.
You don’t need to.
Because everything that matters is here.
In the quiet.
In the way your shoulder brushes lightly against his.
In the way neither of you moves away.
You feel it immediately—the contact.
Small.
Barely there.
But enough.
Your breath catches just slightly.
And when you don’t pull away—
Neither does he.
Jay notices.
Of course he does.
The way you stay.
The way you lean just enough that the contact lingers.
“She’s not pulling away.”
The thought settles, steady and certain.
And before he can overthink it—
His hand moves.
Slowly.
Carefully.
It comes to rest against your arm.
Light.
Tentative.
Like he’s giving you time to stop him.
You don’t.
Instead, your body softens just slightly beneath his touch.
And that—
That small reaction—
is enough.
Jay exhales quietly, something in his chest loosening.
Because this isn’t one-sided.
It’s not imagined.
It’s real.
Time stretches in a way that feels both slow and too fast.
You’re aware of everything.
The warmth of his hand.
The steady rise and fall of his breathing.
The way your heart won’t quite settle.
Your fingers shift against the blanket.
Hesitate.
Then drift.
Toward him.
It’s not a decision.
Not really.
More instinct than anything else.
Your hand brushes his.
Pauses.
And then—
You lace your fingers with his.
Your breath catches immediately, your pulse jumping at the contact.
But you don’t pull away.
You don’t even consider it.
Jay turns his head, looking at you fully now.
And something in his expression softens.
Not guarded.
Not distant.
Just—
Present.
Real.
The thought settles in him, quiet but certain.
And for the first time, he doesn’t push it away.
Your eyes lift to meet his.
And everything else fades.
The room.
The television.
The quiet hum of the world outside.
All of it disappears.
Leaving just this.
Just him.
Just the space between you that feels smaller with every second.
Your breath slows.
But your heart doesn’t.
It races.
Because the way he’s looking at you—
It feels like a question.
And without meaning to—
You answer.
You lean forward.
Just slightly.
Not enough to close the distance.
But enough to say—
“I’m here.”
Jay’s breath catches.
Because that’s all he needs.
Not words.
Not explanations.
Just that.
His fingers tighten gently around yours as he shifts closer.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Giving you time.
Giving you space.
You don’t move away.
So he closes the distance.
His lips meet yours softly.
Tentative at first.
Like he’s testing it.
Making sure it’s real.
And it is.
Your chest tightens as you lean into it, your free hand lifting instinctively to rest against his shoulder.
The contact grounds you.
Anchors you.
Jay deepens the kiss just slightly—not rushed, not overwhelming—just enough to let it linger.
To let it mean something.
And when he pulls back—
It’s slow.
Reluctant.
Your foreheads brush again, your breathing uneven in the quiet.
Neither of you speaks.
Because you don’t need to.
You both feel it.
The shift.
The change.
The way this isn’t just about the baby anymore.
And for the first time—
That doesn’t scare you.
It feels like something you might actually want.
Something worth holding onto.
Something real.
You wake up slowly.
Not all at once—just gradually, like your body is easing back into the world instead of being pulled into it.
For a moment, everything feels normal.
Quiet.
Still.
Then—
It hits you.
Last night.
Your eyes open fully, staring up at the ceiling as the memory comes rushing back all at once.
The closeness.
The way his hand felt in yours.
The way he looked at you.
And—
The kiss.
Your breath catches slightly.
That actually happened.
Your hand drifts unconsciously to your lips, fingertips brushing there like you’re trying to remember it exactly as it was.
Soft.
Careful.
Real.
Your chest tightens—not with fear, but something else.
Something deeper.
What does that mean now?
The question settles quickly, heavier than you expected.
Because it wasn’t just a moment.
Not to you.
And something tells you—
It wasn’t just a moment to him either.
You push yourself up slowly, the blanket falling away as you swing your legs over the side of the bed.
The apartment is quiet.
Too quiet.
For a second, you wonder if he left already.
If maybe you imagined the whole thing more than it actually was.
But then—
You hear it.
Movement.
Soft.
Coming from the kitchen.
Your heart skips.
You stand, moving slowly toward the doorway, your steps quieter than usual like you’re afraid of breaking something fragile.
When you round the corner—
There he is.
Jay.
Standing in your kitchen like he belongs there.
Coffee already brewing.
His back is to you, sleeves pushed up slightly, his movements easy—familiar in a way that makes something warm settle in your chest.
You stop.
Just watch him for a second.
This feels… normal.
Too normal.
Like this isn’t the first time he’s been here in the morning.
Like it won’t be the last.
And that thought—
It lingers.
He turns slightly, sensing you.
And when his eyes meet yours—
Something shifts again.
Not dramatic.
Not overwhelming.
Just…
Awareness.
“Morning,” he says.
Simple.
But his voice is softer than usual.
You nod slightly.
“Morning.”
And just like that—
There it is.
That quiet tension.
Not uncomfortable.
Just…
Different.
Because now you both know.
Neither of you says anything about it.
Not yet.
But it’s there.
Sitting between you.
He reaches for a second mug, pouring coffee without asking.
You notice that.
The way he just—
Knows.
“Sit,” he says gently, nodding toward the couch.
You don’t argue.
You don’t want to.
You settle into your usual spot, pulling the blanket around yourself again as he brings the mug over.
Your fingers brush when you take it.
Both of you notice.
Neither of you pulls away right away.
Your heart picks up.
Okay…
You glance up at him.
And he’s already looking at you.
That same look from last night.
Softer now.
But still there.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asks.
You nod.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yeah.”
A small pause.
Neither of you fills it.
Because the real question isn’t about sleep.
It’s about last night.
About what changed.
About what this is now.
But neither of you says it.
Not yet.
Jay glances at the clock.
And something in his expression shifts.
Subtle.
But enough.
Reality.
“I’ve gotta get to work,” he says.
The words land heavier than they should.
Your chest tightens slightly.
Of course he does.
This isn’t a bubble.
This isn’t separate from everything else.
He has a job.
A life.
Responsibilities.
You nod.
“Yeah… I figured.”
But your voice comes out quieter than you intended.
And he hears it.
Of course he does.
Jay hesitates.
Just for a second.
Like he’s debating something.
Then he steps closer.
Close enough that you feel it again—
That shift.
That pull.
“You okay?” he asks.
You look up at him.
And this time—
You don’t hide it.
“Yeah,” you say softly.
Then, after a beat—
“I just…”
Your words trail off.
Because you don’t know how to say it.
How to explain that everything feels different now.
That him leaving feels different now.
Jay studies you for a moment.
And he understands more than you think.
Because he feels it too.
Without saying anything—
His hand lifts.
Fingers brushing lightly against your cheek.
Familiar now.
Easier.
Your breath softens.
And before you can overthink it—
He leans down.
Presses a soft kiss to your lips.
Not long.
Not rushed.
Just enough to remind you—
Last night wasn’t a one-time thing.
When he pulls back, his forehead lingers briefly against yours.
summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Curse Words??
word count: 2k
series masterlist
___
It happens so gradually you almost miss it.
At first, it’s just small things—your jeans fitting a little tighter, the waistband pressing in a way it didn’t before. Shirts that used to hang loose now skim your stomach just a little differently.
You tell yourself it’s nothing.
That it’s too early.
That maybe you’re just imagining it because you know what’s happening.
But then—
One morning, you catch your reflection.
And you stop.
Not just a passing glance.
Not just checking your outfit before the day starts.
You stop.
Your gaze lingers, your body going still as your eyes trace the subtle curve of your stomach.
It’s small.
So small most people wouldn’t even notice.
But you do.
Of course you do.
That wasn’t there before.
The realization settles slowly, almost carefully, like your mind is trying to catch up with what your body already knows.
Your hand lifts without you telling it to.
Hesitates.
Then rests against the slight curve.
Warm.
Protective.
Real.
Your breath softens.
That’s… my baby.
Not an idea.
Not a possibility.
Not something you talk about in doctor’s offices or whisper about late at night.
Something you can see.
Something you can touch.
And for a moment, you just stand there, staring at yourself like you’re trying to understand this new version of who you are.
I’m actually doing this.
The thought doesn’t scare you the way it used to.
It doesn’t send your chest into a panic or your mind spiraling into what-ifs.
Instead, it settles.
Quiet.
Steady.
Different.
A knock sounds at the door.
Right on time.
Your heart gives a small, automatic lift.
Jay.
You don’t question it anymore—how he shows up, how he’s become part of your routine, how your mornings feel a little off when he’s not there.
You just move.
Open the door.
“Hey,” you say, softer than you intended.
“Hey,” he replies, stepping inside.
But then—
He pauses.
It’s subtle.
Barely noticeable.
But you catch it.
Because his eyes flick over you quickly at first—
Then again.
Slower.
More focused.
Your stomach tightens, but not from nausea this time.
From awareness.
“What?” you ask, a small, uncertain smile pulling at your lips. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Jay doesn’t answer right away.
Because he’s still trying to figure out what he’s seeing.
Or maybe—
What he’s feeling.
She looks…
Different.
Not drastically.
Not in a way anyone else might notice right away.
But he does.
Because he’s been here.
Every day.
Watching.
Learning.
And now—
There’s something new.
Something subtle.
But unmistakable.
His gaze drops again, more intentional this time.
That’s the baby.
The thought hits him harder than he expects.
Not like before—when it was words, appointments, heartbeats echoing through a machine.
This—
This is real in a different way.
Visible.
Present.
And suddenly, it’s not just something that’s happening.
It’s something that’s growing.
“You look…” he starts, then trails off.
You tilt your head slightly.
“I look what?”
He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “Different.”
You glance down at yourself, then back at him.
And for the first time, you don’t brush it off.
You don’t pretend you don’t know what he means.
“I think I’m starting to show,” you say quietly.
The words settle between you.
Soft.
But undeniable.
Jay’s breath slows slightly.
His eyes drop again, lingering just a second longer this time.
And something shifts in his expression.
Something deeper.
Something quieter.
“Can I…” he starts, then stops.
The hesitation catches you off guard.
You’ve never seen him hesitate before.
“Can you what?” you ask gently.
He shifts his weight, like he’s unsure how to ask without overstepping.
Without making this something it’s not.
But it already is something.
More than either of you are saying out loud.
“Can I feel?” he asks finally.
His voice is softer now.
Careful.
And that—
That does something to you.
Your breath catches slightly, your heart picking up just a little.
Because it’s such a simple question.
But it doesn’t feel simple.
It feels—
Important.
Intimate.
Real.
You nod slowly.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
For a second, he doesn’t move.
Like he’s making sure.
Like he’s giving you time to change your mind.
But you don’t.
And eventually—
He steps closer.
The space between you disappears quietly.
Naturally.
Like it was always meant to.
His hand lifts.
And pauses.
Hovering just above your stomach.
You notice that.
The hesitation.
The care.
He’s nervous.
That realization softens something in you immediately.
Because you’re not the only one feeling this.
Not the only one trying to understand what all of this means.
“Jay,” you murmur softly.
It’s enough.
Enough to ground him.
Enough to push him forward.
His hand settles against you.
Warm.
Careful.
Gentle in a way that makes your breath soften instantly.
Your body stills beneath his touch.
Not tense.
Not uncertain.
Just—
Aware.
He’s touching the baby.
The thought moves through you slowly, settling deeper than you expected.
And without thinking—
Your hand lifts, resting over his.
Holding it there.
Keeping it in place.
Jay’s breath catches.
Just slightly.
But you feel it.
See it in the way his shoulders shift.
In the way his thumb moves just a fraction against you.
Like he’s trying to understand what this is.
What it means.
That’s real.
That’s actually real.
He swallows, his jaw tightening slightly as something settles in his chest.
Something heavy.
But not bad.
Just—
Big.
“I can’t believe…” he starts, then shakes his head softly.
He doesn’t finish.
He doesn’t need to.
You already know.
Because you feel it too.
You glance up at him.
And he’s already looking at you.
Your eyes meet.
And for a moment—
Everything else fades.
No noise.
No distractions.
Just this.
Just him.
Just the quiet understanding passing between you.
“You’re gonna be a dad,” you say softly.
The words feel different now.
Not distant.
Not theoretical.
Real.
Jay lets out a quiet breath, something almost like a laugh under it.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I guess I am.”
But his hand doesn’t move.
He keeps it there.
Like he’s not ready to let go.
Like pulling away would make it less real somehow.
And you don’t stop him.
Because you’re not ready either.
Time slows.
You don’t know how long you stand there.
Seconds.
Minutes.
It doesn’t matter.
Because for the first time since all of this started—
You feel steady.
Not scared.
Not overwhelmed.
Just…
Grounded.
Like this—
Whatever this is—
Might actually be okay.
When his hand finally begins to pull away, you feel it immediately.
The absence.
The loss of warmth.
But he doesn’t step back.
Doesn’t create distance.
His fingers brush against yours instead.
Light.
Lingering.
And your heart—
It doesn’t race from fear anymore.
It races because of him.
Because of the way he looks at you now.
Because of the way everything between you feels like it’s shifting into something neither of you planned.
Something you’re not ready to define.
But also—
Not ready to walk away from.
And maybe—
You don’t want to.
For a moment after his hand pulls away—
Neither of you moves.
The air feels different now.
Heavier.
Quieter.
Like something shifted and neither of you knows how to step away from it.
Your hand lingers where his had been, still resting lightly against your stomach.
Still warm.
Still aware.
You can feel him in front of you.
Close.
Too close to pretend this is still just… easy.
Your eyes lift.
And he’s already looking at you.
Not like before.
Not just checking on you.
Not just making sure you’re okay.
This is different.
His gaze lingers.
Soft.
Focused.
And there’s something in it now that makes your breath catch.
Something that makes your chest tighten in a way that has nothing to do with fear.
Your heart starts to pick up.
Slow at first.
Then faster.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
His voice is lower now.
Quieter.
Like he’s trying not to break whatever this is.
You nod.
But you don’t look away.
You can’t.
Because the way he’s looking at you—
It feels like he’s seeing more than you’re saying.
More than you’re ready to admit.
“I am,” you whisper.
And you mean it.
But your voice comes out softer than you expected.
More vulnerable.
And he notices that too.
Of course he does.
Jay exhales slowly, his hand lifting again—this time not to your stomach.
But to you.
His fingers hover near your face for a second.
Like he’s asking without asking.
Like he’s waiting for you to stop him.
You don’t.
You don’t move at all.
So he closes the distance.
Just enough.
His fingers brush gently along your jaw, sliding up toward your cheek.
The touch is light.
Careful.
But it sends a quiet shiver down your spine.
Your breath catches again.
This is different.
This isn’t just about the baby anymore.
The realization settles deep.
And instead of pulling back—
You lean into it.
Just slightly.
Just enough that he feels it.
Jay’s chest tightens.
Because that—
That small movement—
Means everything.
She’s not pulling away.
His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, lingering there for just a second longer than it should.
And suddenly—
The space between you feels too small.
Your heart pounds.
Your lips part slightly as your breathing shifts.
His gaze drops.
Just for a second.
To your mouth.
Then back to your eyes.
And everything slows.
The moment stretches.
Tight.
Delicate.
Balanced on something neither of you says out loud.
If he leans in—
The thought hits you fast.
And instead of panicking—
You stay.
You don’t step back.
You don’t turn away.
You wait.
Jay exhales quietly.
His forehead dips forward—
Not quite a kiss.
Not yet.
He rests it gently against yours.
And everything in you softens.
Your eyes close.
Instinct.
Relief.
Connection.
His hand slides slightly, settling at the side of your neck.
Warm.
Steady.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” he murmurs.
The words are quiet.
But they land deep.
Your chest tightens again.
But this time—
It’s not fear.
It’s something else.
Something that makes your throat ache slightly.
“I know,” you whisper.
And you do.
Because he’s here.
Because he stayed.
Because he keeps choosing to stay.
A moment passes.
Then another.
Neither of you moves.
Because neither of you wants to be the one to break it.
But eventually—
You shift slightly, your forehead still brushing his.
Just enough that your noses nearly touch.
And for a second—
You think—
This is it.
But instead—
He presses the softest kiss to your forehead.
Gentle.
Careful.
But full of something you feel all the way down.
Your breath leaves you slowly.
Your hands grip lightly at his shirt without thinking.
summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Curse Words??
word count: 3.8k
series masterlist
___
It’s the day of the ultrasound.
And everything feels heavier.
You sit in the waiting room beside Jay, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, your fingers twisting together in a nervous rhythm you can’t seem to stop.
The room is quiet.
Too quiet.
Even with the soft hum of voices and the occasional shuffle of papers from the front desk, it all feels distant—muted beneath the noise in your own head.
What if there’s no heartbeat?
What if something’s wrong?
What if last time wasn’t just because it was too early?
The thoughts come fast.
Relentless.
Each one worse than the last.
You swallow hard, your chest tightening as your mind keeps going.
What if I did something wrong?
What if I didn’t eat enough?
What if—
You squeeze your eyes shut briefly, trying to shut it off.
Trying to breathe.
Beside you, Jay shifts slightly.
He notices.
Of course he does.
He’s been watching you since you sat down.
The way your hands won’t stay still.
The way your shoulders are tense.
The way your breathing is just a little too shallow.
She’s spiraling.
The realization hits him quickly.
And he doesn’t hesitate.
His hand moves slowly, carefully, until it rests over yours.
Warm.
Steady.
Grounding.
You freeze for half a second at the contact.
Then your eyes lift to his.
Blue.
Always those blue eyes.
Calm.
Certain.
Like he’s trying to hold everything together for both of you.
“You’re okay,” he says quietly.
Not dismissing.
Not brushing it off.
Just—
Steady.
You nod slightly, even though your chest is still tight.
But his hand—
It helps.
More than you expected.
More than you want to admit.
You tighten your fingers slightly around his without thinking.
And he doesn’t pull away.
Your head snaps up at the sound of your last name being called
The nurse stands at the doorway, clipboard in hand, offering a small, reassuring smile.
Your heart jumps.
This is it.
You stand slowly, your legs feeling just a little weaker than they should.
Jay stands with you immediately.
Of course he does.
Always just a step behind you.
Or beside you.
Never far.
You follow the nurse down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps echoing slightly against the tile floor.
Everything feels sharper now.
Brighter.
Louder.
Like your senses are working overtime.
Or maybe it’s just your nerves.
The room you’re led into is dimmer than you expected.
Cooler.
Quieter.
There’s a bed, a machine, a monitor turned slightly away from you.
You climb onto the table, the paper crinkling beneath you as you settle back, your hands instinctively moving to your stomach.
Jay stays close.
Standing near your shoulder.
Close enough that you can feel him there.
Close enough that if you reached out—
You’d touch him.
“Alright,” the technician says gently, pulling her stool closer. “We’re going to take a look today and see how everything is progressing.”
You nod.
But your throat feels tight.
Your eyes flick to Jay.
He gives you a small nod.
I’m here.
You look back at the ceiling.
Trying to steady yourself.
Trying to prepare.
The gel is cold when it touches your skin.
You flinch slightly at the sensation, your breath catching.
“Sorry,” the technician murmurs. “It’ll warm up.”
The wand presses gently against your stomach.
The room falls quiet.
Completely quiet.
Even the machine seems to hum softer.
The screen flickers.
Shifts.
Gray shapes.
Movement you don’t understand.
You stare at it, your heart pounding in your chest.
What am I looking at?
Is that—
“Okay…” the technician murmurs softly, adjusting slightly.
Your breath stops.
Say something.
Please say something.
Your fingers curl slightly against the paper beneath you.
Jay notices.
His hand finds yours again.
Without hesitation.
You hold onto it.
Tighter this time.
Needing it.
And then—
A sound.
Fast.
Rhythmic.
Strong.
Like a rapid flutter filling the room.
Your eyes widen.
Your breath catches completely.
“Is that—?” you start, your voice barely there.
The technician smiles.
“That’s the heartbeat.”
Everything stops.
For a second—
Everything.
The fear.
The tension.
The noise in your head.
All of it.
Gone.
Replaced by that sound.
That tiny, fast, steady rhythm echoing through the room.
Your eyes fill instantly.
Tears you didn’t realize were there spill over before you can stop them.
“Oh my God…” you whisper.
Your chest tightens—but this time, not from fear.
From relief.
From something overwhelming and real and impossible to ignore.
You turn your head slightly.
Jay.
He’s staring at the screen.
Frozen.
His hand tightens around yours.
And for the first time since you’ve known him—
He looks completely undone.
His jaw is set, like he’s trying to hold it together.
But his eyes—
His eyes say everything.
That’s real.
That’s ours.
He exhales slowly, like he’s been holding his breath this entire time.
“That’s… that’s really happening,” he murmurs.
You nod, tears slipping down your temples.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “It is.”
The technician continues talking—pointing things out, explaining measurements—but you barely hear her.
Because all you can focus on—
Is that sound.
That heartbeat.
Proof.
Real.
Alive.
And suddenly—
Everything feels different.
Not just real.
But possible.
You squeeze Jay’s hand again.
And this time—
He squeezes back just as tight.
And neither of you lets go.
You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel it.
Warm tears slipping down your temples, disappearing into your hair.
Your chest feels tight—but not like before.
Not from fear.
From something bigger.
Something overwhelming.
Relief.
You let out a shaky breath, your hand instinctively moving to your stomach.
There’s really a baby in there.
The thought hits you all over again.
And this time—
It doesn’t scare you the same way.
Beside you, Jay hasn’t moved.
You turn your head slightly.
He’s still standing there, staring at the screen like it might come back on.
Like he’s trying to memorize it.
His hand is still wrapped around yours.
Tight.
Grounded.
You squeeze his fingers slightly.
He looks at you then.
And something shifts.
The tension in his face softens, his shoulders dropping just slightly as he lets out a breath.
“That’s…” he starts, then stops.
Like he doesn’t even know how to finish the sentence.
You let out a quiet, breathy laugh through your tears.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I know.”
A beat passes.
Then—
Without thinking—
His hand comes up.
Slow.
Careful.
He brushes his thumb gently beneath your eye, catching one of your tears before it can fall.
Your breath catches.
The touch is soft.
Barely there.
But it feels like everything.
He’s touching me like… like I matter.
Your heart stutters.
You don’t move.
Don’t pull away.
And neither does he.
For a second—
You just look at each other.
Too close.
Too aware.
Your breathing shifts.
So does his.
And for a moment—
It feels like something else might happen.
Something more.
But then—
The technician clears her throat softly from across the room.
And the moment breaks.
“Here’s a few pictures,” she smiles, handing them to you.
You leave the room a few minutes later, grinning down at your baby in the ultrasound pictures
The hallway feels different now.
Lighter.
Brighter.
Like the weight you walked in with has been replaced by something else.
Something steadier.
Jay walks beside you, his hand brushing yours again.
This time—
You don’t hesitate.
You take it.
And he lets you.
Outside, the air feels cooler.
Fresh.
You take a deep breath, your shoulders finally relaxing.
Jay glances at you.
“You okay?” he asks.
You nod, a small smile forming.
“Yeah.”
And for once—
You mean it.
A quiet moment passes between you.
Comfortable.
Full.
Then—
“Let me take you somewhere,” he says.
You blink slightly. “Somewhere?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “We should… I don’t know. Do something.”
You tilt your head slightly.
“Celebrate?”
A small smile tugs at his mouth.
“Yeah. That.”
Your chest warms at the word.
Celebrate.
You never thought you’d feel that way about this.
But right now—
You do.
You end up at a small café not far from the hospital.
It’s quiet.
Calm.
A contrast to everything you just walked through.
You sit across from each other again—but this time, it feels different.
Lighter.
Easier.
You find yourself smiling more.
Talking more.
Not just about the baby.
But about everything.
“What do you think it’ll be?” he asks.
You shrug slightly. “I don’t know. A girl maybe?”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
You think for a second.
Then smile.
“Just a feeling.”
He watches you as you say it.
Really watches you.
She looks different.
Lighter.
Happier.
And it does something to him.
Something he doesn’t question.
Something he doesn’t want to stop.
Later, he walks you to your door.
Neither of you says much.
You don’t need to.
The silence isn’t awkward.
It’s full.
You reach your door.
Pause.
So does he.
For a second—
Neither of you moves.
Your hand rests lightly on the doorknob.
But you don’t turn it.
You look at him instead.
And he’s already looking at you.
Your heart starts to race again.
Not from fear this time.
From something else.
Something softer.
Something warmer.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
You nod.
But you don’t break eye contact.
Neither does he.
The space between you feels smaller.
Closer.
Like it’s closing without either of you moving.
Your breath catches slightly.
His gaze flicks briefly to your lips—
Then back to your eyes.
And for a second—
You think—
He might kiss me.
The thought sends a rush through you.
You don’t step back.
You don’t move.
But then—
He exhales slowly.
Steps back.
Just slightly.
“I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.
Your chest tightens.
Just a little.
But you nod.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
Then—
“Thank you,” you add softly.
“For today.”
His expression softens again.
“Yeah,” he says. “Anytime.”
And you believe him.
You step inside.
Close the door.
And lean back against it, your heart still racing.
Your hand drifts to your stomach again.
Then—
Without meaning to—
To your lips.
You let out a quiet breath.
Because today—
Everything changed.
Not just because of the heartbeat.
But because of him.
And for the first time—
You’re not just thinking about the baby.
You’re thinking about what this—
Whatever this is—
Might turn into.
You barely have time to kick your shoes off before Audrey’s voice fills the apartment.
“Okay—don’t even say anything, I already know it went good.”
You blink, still leaning back against the closed door, your heart not fully settled yet.
“How do you—”
She spins around from the kitchen, eyes wide, already grinning.
“Because if it didn’t, you wouldn’t look like that.”
“Like what?” you ask, pushing yourself off the door.
She narrows her eyes at you, studying your face like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“Like you’re trying not to cry… but also kind of glowing?” she says. “It’s confusing, honestly.”
A small laugh slips out of you before you can stop it.
And just like that—
The weight in your chest loosens a little.
“It went good,” you admit quietly.
Audrey gasps.
Actually gasps.
“Oh my God—wait—” she rushes toward you, grabbing your arms. “Did you hear it?!”
Your breath catches at the question.
The memory hits you instantly.
That sound.
Fast.
Steady.
Real.
You nod.
And this time, the smile comes easier.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “We did.”
Audrey lets out a squeal so loud it makes you flinch.
“I KNEW IT!” she shouts, spinning away from you like she physically can’t contain the excitement. “I’m gonna be an aunt—oh my God—this is actually happening!”
You laugh, shaking your head as she paces the room, running her hands through her hair.
“You’re taking this a lot better than I am,” you mumble.
She stops immediately.
Turns.
“What do you mean?” she asks, her tone softer now.
You hesitate.
Your fingers tighten slightly around your purse strap.
“I don’t know,” you admit. “It just… feels real now.”
Audrey’s expression softens.
Of course it does.
She walks back toward you slowly.
“Yeah,” she says gently. “Because it is.”
You swallow.
Your hand drifts into your bag without thinking.
Reaching.
Finding.
You pull out the folded ultrasound picture.
For a second—
You just look at it.
That’s mine.
That’s inside me.
Your chest tightens again.
But not in the same way as before.
“Here,” you say softly, handing it to her.
Audrey takes it carefully.
Like it’s something fragile.
Important.
Her eyes scan it quickly at first—
Then slower.
More focused.
“Oh my God…” she breathes.
You watch her.
The way her face lights up.
The way her smile grows softer, more emotional.
“That’s your baby,” she says quietly, almost in awe.
The words hit you differently when she says them.
Not clinical.
Not abstract.
Real.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
She looks up at you then, her eyes shining slightly.
“You made that,” she says.
A shaky laugh escapes you.
“I didn’t do it alone.”
She snorts.
“Well yeah, clearly,” she says. “But still—that’s insane.”
You laugh again, the sound lighter now.
Easier.
Audrey looks back down at the picture, her thumb brushing gently along the edge.
“I’m framing this,” she says.
You blink.
“You are not.”
“I absolutely am.”
“Audrey—”
“This is my niece,” she cuts you off. “Or nephew. But I’m calling it now—it’s a girl.”
You roll your eyes, smiling despite yourself.
“You’ve been saying that since day one.”
“And I’m still right.”
You shake your head, leaning back against the couch.
Watching her.
Watching how excited she is.
How sure.
How happy.
And slowly—
It starts to seep into you.
That feeling.
That warmth.
That possibility.
Your hand moves to your stomach again.
Resting there.
Gentle.
“Are you okay?” Audrey asks suddenly, her voice softer now.
summary: You were just passing through—until Kayce Dutton gave you a reason to stay.
pairing: Kayce Dutton x Reader
warning: None
word count: 3k
___
Morning comes early at the Yellowstone ranch—and so do you.
The house is quiet when you arrive, the kind of quiet that settles deep into the wood and walls. You tie your hair back, roll up your sleeves, and get to work like you always do—wiping down counters, sweeping floors, moving through the rooms like you don’t belong to them… but take care of them anyway.
It’s easier that way.
You’re halfway through the living room when you hear boots against the floor behind you.
Heavy. Slow. Familiar.
You don’t turn around right away—you already know who it is.
Kayce Dutton.
“You’re here early,” he says.
You glance over your shoulder, holding the cloth in your hand. “Someone has to be.”
There’s a hint of a smile in your voice, but you keep it small. Professional.
Kayce leans against the doorway, watching you in that quiet way he always does—not invasive, just… observant.
“You don’t have to do all this alone,” he says.
You shrug, turning back to your work. “It’s my job.”
“Still.”
You pause for just a second before continuing, like his words almost got through.
Days turn into a rhythm.
You come in early. You leave before things get too loud. You keep your head down, your work clean, your distance clear.
But Kayce…
He keeps finding reasons to be around.
“You missed a spot,” he says one morning, pointing lazily at a perfectly clean table.
You narrow your eyes slightly. “Did I?”
He walks over, dragging his finger across it… then holds it up.
Clean.
You cross your arms. “Very funny.”
A small smirk tugs at his mouth. “Had to make sure you were paying attention.”
“I always am,” you reply.
And something about the way you say it makes the moment linger a little longer than it should.
The flirting starts small.
You’re in the kitchen, drying dishes, when he leans against the counter—closer than usual.
“Y’know,” Kayce says casually, “you’re making the rest of us look bad.”
You glance at him. “How?”
He nods toward the spotless kitchen. “Place has never looked this good.”
You smirk a little. “Sounds like a you problem.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, eyes staying on you longer than they should.
“Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe I just need to keep you around.”
Your hands pause for just a second on the towel.
“That part’s not up to you.”
Kayce tilts his head slightly, studying you.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”
Your heart does something you don’t quite like—because it’s noticeable.
A few days later, it gets harder to ignore.
You’re outside this time, hanging a line of freshly washed cloths, when you feel him before you see him.
“Thought you only worked inside,” he says.
You don’t turn right away. “I do what needs to be done.”
“Yeah,” he replies, stepping closer, “I’ve noticed that about you.”
You glance back at him, the corner of your mouth lifting slightly. “You notice a lot.”
“Only things worth noticing.”
There it is again—that look.
Steady. Intent.
Too much and not enough all at once.
You turn back to your work, but your focus isn’t the same.
That evening, a storm rolls in.
The sky darkens fast, thunder echoing across the land. You’re finishing up in the kitchen when the lights flicker—and then go out.
You freeze for a second.
Then—
“It’s alright,” Kayce’s voice comes from the doorway.
You exhale, tension you didn’t realize you were holding slipping away.
“Just the storm,” he adds, stepping closer.
“I should probably head out,” you say, even though you don’t move.
“Not in this, you’re not.”
You turn—and your breath catches slightly.
John Dutton stands there, steady and unmoving.
“I don’t want to be a bother, sir—”
“You’re not,” John says calmly. He glances at the rain hitting the windows. “Storm like this washes roads out. You won’t make it far.”
You hesitate. “I can try—”
“No.”
Simple. Final.
“You stay the night,” he adds.
“…Yes, sir,” you say quietly.
He nods once and leaves.
The room feels different after he does.
Kayce exhales softly. “That’s him being nice.”
You glance at him. “I figured.”
Later, the rain is steady, the house dim with only candlelight.
You’re leaning against the counter when Kayce steps closer again—closer than he has before.
“So,” he says, voice low, “since you’re stuck here…”
You raise a brow. “Stuck?”
“Yeah,” he says, a hint of a smirk forming. “Figure I should make the most of it.”
You cross your arms slightly, trying to ignore the way your pulse picks up. “And what exactly does that mean?”
He looks at you for a second—really looks at you.
Then—
“I wanna take you out.”
The words land heavier than you expect.
You blink. “Out… where?”
Kayce shrugs a little. “Somewhere that’s not you working and me pretending I don’t watch you work.”
Your breath catches—just slightly.
“That’s what you’ve been doing?” you ask.
“Pretty much,” he admits, not even trying to hide it.
You shake your head, a small laugh slipping out. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Not a no,” he points out.
You hesitate.
Because it would be easier to say no.
Safer.
But—
“…It’s not a yes either,” you reply.
Kayce steps just a little closer, his voice softer now.
“Alright,” he says. “Then let me ask it the right way.”
Your heart pounds a little louder.
“Go ahead.”
He tilts his head, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through.
“Will you go on a date with me?” he asks. “No cleaning. No pretending this is just a job.”
For a moment, the storm, the house, everything else fades.
It’s just him.
Waiting.
You swallow lightly.
“…One date,” you say.
Kayce’s smile grows, just enough to see it.
“I’ll take it.”
~
It’s not what you expected.
No fancy restaurant. No big plan.
Just Kayce pulling up in his truck, leaning over to open the passenger door like it matters.
“You clean up nice,” he says, looking at you in a way that makes your stomach flip.
You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide your smile. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late,” he replies.
He drives you out past the ranch, further than you’ve ever been.
The land stretches endlessly, the sky turning soft shades of orange and purple as the sun starts to dip.
When he finally stops, it’s quiet.
Just open land. A blanket in the back of the truck. A small cooler.
You raise a brow. “This your idea of a date?”
Kayce shrugs, a little sheepish. “Figured you spend enough time inside working. Thought I’d give you something different.”
You hesitate… then smile.
“It’s perfect.”
That seems to catch him off guard.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You sit side by side in the back of the truck, legs dangling, sharing a quiet conversation that feels… easy.
Too easy.
“You don’t talk much when you’re working,” Kayce says.
“I’m not there to talk.”
“Shame,” he replies. “I like hearing you.”
You glance at him, caught off guard.
“You flirt like that with everyone?” you ask.
“No,” he says simply. “Just you.”
Your heart skips.
The conversation shifts slowly, naturally… until it doesn’t.
Until it lands somewhere heavier.
Kayce leans back on his hands, eyes drifting out across the land.
“I was married,” he says.
You glance at him. “Was?”
He nods once.
“To Monica Dutton.”
You’ve heard the name before. Around the ranch. In passing.
But this is different.
This is him telling you.
“What happened?” you ask softly.
Kayce exhales, slow.
“Life,” he says at first. Then shakes his head. “No… that’s too easy.”
He runs a hand over the back of his neck, like the words don’t come naturally.
“I loved her,” he says. “Still do, in a way.”
That should sting more than it does.
Because of how honest he is.
“But sometimes love isn’t enough to make two people stay in the same place,” he continues. “We kept pulling in different directions. Ranch. Family. Everything.”
You stay quiet, letting him speak.
“I tried to be who she needed,” he says. “But I kept ending up back here. And she… she needed something different.”
There’s no anger in his voice.
Just truth.
“That doesn’t make her the bad guy,” he adds. “Or me.”
You nod slowly. “Just means it wasn’t right anymore.”
He glances at you, something soft in his expression.
“Yeah,” he says. “Exactly.”
A quiet settles between you—but it’s not uncomfortable.
It’s real.
“Why tell me that?” you ask after a moment.
Kayce looks at you fully now.
“Because if I’m gonna do this,” he says, voice steady, “I’m not doing it halfway.”
Your breath catches.
“This?” you ask.
He leans just slightly closer.
“You,” he says.
The air feels different now.
Closer.
Warmer.
You swallow lightly. “You barely know me.”
Kayce smiles a little. “I know enough.”
“That I clean your house?”
“That you care about things that aren’t yours,” he says. “That you don’t run from hard work. That you try to stay invisible… even when you shouldn’t.”
Your heart pounds.
“That’s a lot to figure out from watching someone clean,” you say quietly.
He tilts his head.
“I’ve been paying attention.”
Silence falls again—but this time, it’s charged.
Intentional.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” he adds.
“What question?”
He leans in just a little more.
“Whether this was just one date…”
Your breath catches.
“…or if I get another.”
You look at him—really look at him.
At the honesty. The patience. The way he’s not pushing… but he’s not backing down either.
“…You might,” you say.
Kayce smirks slightly. “I’ll take ‘might.’”
By the time he drives you back to the ranch, the stars are out again.
Everything looks the same.
But nothing feels the same.
Because this time—
When you step out of the truck…
You don’t feel like you’re just the girl who cleans the house.
And when Kayce looks at you—
He doesn’t see you that way either.
~
Its a few days later when Kayce’s voice stirs you from your cleaning…
“You ever been to the county fair?” Kayce Dutton asks one morning, watching you from the doorway while you dust the shelves.
You glance at him. “Not in a long time.”
He nods like he expected that. “Then you’re going.”
You pause. “That didn’t sound like a question.”
“It wasn’t.”
You try to fight the smile pulling at your lips. “I have work.”
“I’ll talk to my dad,” he says simply.
Your eyes narrow slightly. “You’d do that?”
“For you?” he replies, shrugging. “Yeah.”
Your heart does that thing again.
“…Fine,” you say. “But if it’s terrible, I’m blaming you.”
Kayce smirks. “You won’t be.”
By the time you get there, the sun is starting to dip, painting everything in warm gold.
Lights flicker on across the fairgrounds. Music drifts through the air. Laughter, voices, the smell of fried food and sugar—it’s loud, crowded… alive.
You glance around, taking it all in.
“This is… a lot,” you admit.
Kayce watches you, not the fair.
“You alright?” he asks.
You nod slowly. “Yeah. I just forgot what this feels like.”
He steps a little closer. “Then we’ll take it slow.”
You don’t.
Not really.
Because before long, he’s pulling you toward a game booth.
“Pick something,” he says.
You cross your arms. “Why?”
“Because I’m gonna win it.”
You laugh softly. “Confident.”
“Always.”
You point at a stuffed animal hanging from the top. “That one.”
Kayce glances at it, then back at you. “That’s the hardest one.”
You shrug. “Then I guess you’re in trouble.”
He huffs a quiet laugh—and then actually focuses.
It takes him a couple tries.
But when he finally wins it, he hands it to you without hesitation.
“Told you,” he says.
You take it, smiling more than you meant to. “I’m impressed.”
“Yeah,” he replies. “You should be.”
Later, you’re walking side by side through the crowd, your shoulders brushing every so often.
Neither of you moves away.
“You hungry?” he asks.
“When am I not?” you reply.
Kayce smirks. “Good answer.”
He comes back with food—nothing fancy, just fair food, messy and warm.
You sit together on a bench, sharing it, laughing when you inevitably get powdered sugar everywhere.
“You’re not very graceful,” he says.
“You’re the one who handed me this,” you shoot back.
“Still your fault.”
The night settles in deeper, lights glowing brighter now.
Music plays somewhere nearby—slow, steady.
Kayce glances toward it… then back at you.
“C’mon.”
You frown slightly. “Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Before you can argue, he takes your hand.
And this time—
It feels natural.
He leads you to a small open space where a few couples are dancing.
Nothing big. Nothing formal.
Just people swaying under string lights.
You hesitate. “Kayce…”
“Relax,” he says softly. “It’s just a dance.”
“I don’t dance.”
He steps closer, one hand settling lightly at your waist.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “You do.”
Your breath catches slightly.
Because now you are.
You move slowly, unsure at first—but he guides you without making it obvious.
His hand is steady.
Warm.
“You’re staring,” you say quietly.
“Can you blame me?” he replies.
You roll your eyes—but your grip on him tightens just a little.
After a while, the world fades again.
It’s just him.
Just this.
And for once—
You’re not thinking about leaving.
The night settles in deeper.
Lights glow brighter. Music drifts more slowly now.
Kayce glances toward a quieter part of the fairgrounds—away from the crowd, where the noise softens, and the lights feel warmer.
“C’mon,” he says, gently taking your hand.
This time—
You don’t hesitate.
He leads you past the noise, toward the edge where things feel calmer. A Ferris wheel turns slowly nearby, casting soft light over everything.
You stop walking.
“So this was the plan?” you ask quietly.
Kayce shakes his head. “Didn’t really have one.”
You smile slightly. “That checks out.”
The air shifts.
He steps closer.
Not rushed. Not forced.
Just enough that you feel it.
Your breath catches as his eyes drop briefly to your lips… then back to your eyes.
“You gonna pull away?” he asks quietly.
You shake your head, just barely.
“No.”
That’s all it takes.
Kayce closes the distance slowly, giving you time—giving you the choice.
And when his hand gently comes up to rest at your waist, steady and warm—
You lean in.
The kiss is soft at first.
Careful.
Like neither of you wants to break the moment.
But then it deepens just slightly—not rushed, just real. Like everything unspoken between you, you finally found a way out.
Your fingers curl lightly into his shirt.
And for a second—
Nothing else exists.
Not the lights.
Not the music.
Just him.
When you finally pull back, it’s slow.
Reluctant.
Kayce rests his forehead lightly against yours, his breath still close.
“Yeah…” he murmurs quietly. “Definitely worth bringing you.”
You let out a soft laugh, your heart still racing.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah,” he says, a faint smile in his voice. “But you kissed me anyway.”
You shake your head, but you don’t step away.
Later that night, back at the ranch, the quiet feels different.
Softer.
Like something has settled into place.
You step outside under the stars.
And like always—
He’s there.
“You had fun,” Kayce says.
“Maybe.”
“That’s as good as I’m getting?”
“For now.”
~
A few days pass before it happens.
Days where nothing changes—and everything does.
You still wake up early. Still clean the house like you always have. Still keep your distance… at least, you try to.
But now—
There are looks.
Longer ones.
Small touches that linger just a second too long.
And conversations that don’t feel like just passing time anymore.
It’s late when it finally happens.
The ranch is quiet, the kind of quiet that settles in after a long day. The sky is clear, stretched wide with stars that seem brighter the longer you look at them.
You step outside for air.
And he’s already there.
Kayce Dutton leans against the fence, like he knew you’d come.
“You always find me out here,” you say softly.
He glances over, a small smile forming. “Or maybe you always find me.”
You roll your eyes a little, but you walk over anyway.
That part’s not a choice anymore.
You stand beside him, close—but not quite touching.
Not yet.
“You been avoiding me?” he asks after a moment.
You scoff lightly. “I see you every day.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
You glance at him, caught.
“…Maybe a little.”
He nods like he expected that.
“Why?”
You hesitate.
Because the truth feels a little too big to say out loud.
“Because this…” you gesture faintly between you, “…isn’t simple.”
“No,” he agrees quietly. “It’s not.”
The air feels different now.
He’s closer than he’s ever been.
And for the first time… neither of you pulls away.
Kayce studies your face like he’s trying to memorize it.
“You should know something,” he says quietly.
Your heart pounds. “What?”
He hesitates—just for a second.
Not because he’s unsure.
Because it matters.
“I don’t play games,” he says. “I don’t start things I don’t mean.”
Your chest tightens.
“I can tell,” you whisper.
He nods slightly, eyes never leaving yours.
“And I know this is fast,” he continues. “I know I don’t know everything about you yet.”
He pauses.
“But I know how I feel when I’m around you.”
Your breath catches.
“And I haven’t felt that in a long time.”
The world feels very, very still.
Then—
Kayce reaches for your hand, slow enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.
You don’t.
His fingers wrap around yours, warm, steady.
“I’m yours…” he says quietly, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.
Your heart skips.
“…if you’ll have me.”
The words settle between you like something fragile.
Real.
You stare at him, searching his face for anything uncertain.
You don’t find it.
Just honesty.
Just him.
Your fingers tighten slightly around his.
“You don’t make this easy,” you whisper.
A small smile touches his lips. “Wasn’t trying to.”
You shake your head, a soft breath leaving you.
“…I don’t want easy.”
Kayce’s eyes soften.
“Good,” he says.
The stars stretch endlessly above you, the night quiet and full.
And for the first time since you stepped onto this ranch…
summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Curse Words??
word count: 3.3k
series masterlist
___
It starts small.
At first, it’s just phone calls.
Quick check-ins before work. A “Did you eat?” or a “How are you feeling?”—simple, easy things that somehow become something you start expecting.
Looking forward to.
Then—
It turns into more.
Jay starts showing up.
Every morning.
Coffee in one hand. Breakfast in the other. A quiet knock on your door like he doesn’t want to startle you, like he’s already thinking about you before you even see him.
And you let him in.
Every time.
You tell yourself it’s because of the baby.
Because it makes sense.
Because it’s easier to let him help than to do this alone.
But that’s not the full truth.
And you know it.
It’s a few weeks later when the nausea gets worse.
Not manageable anymore.
Not something you can brush off.
It hits fast.
Hard.
And this morning—
You barely make it to the bathroom.
You’re bent over the toilet, your hands gripping the edge as your stomach twists again, your whole body tightening with it. Your breathing is uneven, your throat burning, your eyes squeezing shut as you wait for it to pass.
God, this hurts.
Why does it feel worse today?
Is this normal?
The questions come too fast.
Too loud.
Before you can stop them—
The front door opens.
Footsteps.
Then—
“Hey—shit,” Jay’s voice, sharp with concern. “Hey, I got you—”
Before you can protest, he’s there.
Behind you.
One hand gathers your hair, pulling it gently away from your face.
The other—
Moves to your back.
Slow.
Steady.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
The warmth of his touch sends an immediate reaction through you.
Not just comfort.
Something deeper.
Something that makes your breath hitch slightly in your chest.
Why does that feel so…
You cut the thought off.
Because you know exactly what it feels like.
And you’re not ready to go there.
You try to brush him off, your hand lifting weakly.
“I’m fine—” you start.
But you’re not.
And he doesn’t move.
Doesn’t listen.
Doesn’t leave.
And something in you—
Relaxes.
Just slightly.
You let out a soft hum without meaning to, your body leaning just a little into his touch.
That feels… good.
Too good.
Jay notices immediately.
He feels it.
The shift.
The way your body softens under his hand.
And it does something to him.
More than it should.
Don’t read into it.
She’s sick. She needs help.
But his hand slows slightly anyway.
More careful now.
More aware.
Because touching you—
It’s not neutral.
It never has been.
And he’s starting to realize that.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
His voice is softer now.
Closer.
Say yes.
Say you’re fine so this doesn’t feel like something more than it is.
“Yeah… I think so,” you manage.
Your voice is weak.
Not convincing.
You shift back slowly, lowering yourself to the floor, your back resting against the cabinet.
The cool tile grounds you.
You breathe in.
Out.
In.
Out.
Jay lets go.
And the absence of his hands is immediate.
Noticeable.
Why do I miss that already?
He crouches beside you, closer now, his knees nearly brushing yours.
He studies you.
Really studies you.
She looks pale.
Too pale.
She shouldn’t look like this.
His jaw tightens slightly.
This isn’t just normal.
Or is it? I don’t know. I don’t know enough.
“Are you okay?” he asks again, quieter this time.
You nod, even though your body still feels off.
Your eyes lift—
And meet his.
And for a second—
Everything else fades.
The bathroom.
The nausea.
The tension.
It’s just him.
And the way he’s looking at you.
Not just concerned.
Not just checking.
Something else.
Something deeper.
Why is he looking at me like that?
Like I matter more than this situation?
Your chest tightens.
You look away first.
Because it’s too much.
Because you don’t know what to do with that.
“I need to brush my teeth,” you say quickly, pushing yourself up.
You turn away, gripping the counter slightly as you steady yourself.
Jay stands beside you, watching.
She’s trying to act like she’s fine.
She’s not fine.
I should say something.
He runs a hand through his hair, restless.
“I’m starting to get worried,” he says. “Should you really be this nauseous? You can barely keep food down.”
You glance at him through the mirror.
And there it is again.
That look.
That worry.
That care.
And something in your chest softens.
“I eat, Jay,” you say quietly.
His name falls from your lips without effort.
And it hits him harder than it should.
Say it again.
The thought catches him off guard.
He stills slightly.
You don’t notice.
“Some days are worse than others,” you continue. “I promise you… this baby is getting everything they need.”
You want him to believe you.
You want to believe yourself.
But there’s still that small voice in the back of your mind—
What if it’s not enough?
Jay exhales, leaning back slightly against the counter.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
He’s not trying to challenge you.
He just—
Needs to know.
Needs to believe this is okay.
That you’re okay.
That this is okay.
You meet his eyes in the mirror.
And this time—
You don’t look away.
“Yes,” you say firmly. “I promise.”
A pause.
Then softer—
“I’m eating when I can. I’m taking the prenatals. There’s nothing else I can do.”
The honesty in your voice settles between you.
Jay nods slowly.
But the worry doesn’t leave.
It lingers.
Sits heavy in his chest.
I should be doing more.
I don’t even know what more is.
But this… this doesn’t feel like enough.
And yet—
He stays.
Because leaving feels wrong.
Because walking away from you right now—
Isn’t an option anymore.
And you feel that.
Even if neither of you says it out loud.
And somehow—
That’s what steadies you the most.
Jay steps back suddenly, like he’s made a decision.
“I’m gonna make a call,” he says, already moving toward the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”
You nod, though your head still feels a little light, your body slower than usual as you lean back against the counter.
The second he leaves the room—
The silence settles in.
And without him there—
You feel it more.
The weakness.
The lingering nausea.
The way your body feels like it’s been drained of energy completely.
Why does it feel worse today?
Is this normal… or am I just not handling it well?
You push the thoughts away, focusing instead on something simple.
Normal.
Routine.
You brush your teeth slowly, the mint burning slightly against your still-sensitive throat. You change your shirt—something softer, looser—and take a second to steady yourself before stepping out into the living room.
Jay is just getting off the phone.
He turns the moment he hears you.
His eyes scan you immediately.
Quick.
Assessing.
Concern written all over his face.
“You look pale,” he says, his voice firm in a way that makes you pause.
Then, softer but no less serious—
“Sit down. Please.”
You don’t argue.
You don’t have the energy to.
And honestly—
You don’t want to.
You sink into the couch, pulling the blanket over yourself, curling slightly into it like your body is trying to protect itself from something you can’t quite name.
Jay moves closer, crouching in front of you, his brows pulling together slightly.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
You don’t trust your voice.
So you just nod.
He exhales quietly.
“I called my brother,” he says. “He’s on his way over. He’s a doctor—he said he’d take a look at you.”
Relief flickers through you immediately.
Soft.
Subtle.
But real.
“Thank you,” you murmur.
Your eyes lift to his.
And for a second—
You just look at him.
Really look.
At the concern in his eyes.
At the way his shoulders are still tense.
At the way he hasn’t stepped away, like he’s not planning to.
Like he’s staying.
Because he wants to.
Something in your chest tightens.
And before you can stop yourself—
You let it out.
“Will you sit next to me?”
The words come out softer than you expected.
More vulnerable.
More honest.
For a split second, you wonder if you’ve crossed a line.
If this is too much.
Too soon.
But Jay doesn’t hesitate.
Not even for a second.
He moves immediately, sitting beside you on the couch, pulling part of the blanket over his legs as his arm settles around your shoulders.
Careful.
Natural.
Like it belongs there.
You lean into him without thinking.
Your body relaxes almost instantly, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as the warmth of him seeps into you.
God… that feels good.
Too good.
“You’re freezing,” he murmurs, his hand moving to your arm, rubbing gently up and down.
The motion is slow.
Steady.
Comforting in a way that settles something deep in your chest.
And you can’t help it—
You lean into it more.
Let yourself feel it.
Because right now—
You need it.
And maybe—
You want it.
More than you should.
Jay notices.
Of course he does.
The way you lean into him.
The way your body softens.
The way you don’t pull away.
And it does something to him.
Something quiet.
Something he doesn’t fully understand yet.
She trusts me.
The thought hits him unexpectedly.
And it stays.
It’s about thirty minutes later when the doorbell rings.
Jay shifts slightly.
“I’ll get it,” he says quietly.
And just like that—
The warmth is gone.
You feel it immediately.
The absence of him.
And it leaves you colder than before.
That’s… not good.
You pull the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to ignore the thought.
Moments later, Jay returns—
And he’s not alone.
A tall redhead steps into the room, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looks relaxed, casual, nothing like the image of a doctor you had in your head.
No scrubs.
No white coat.
Just… normal.
Your eyes flick to Jay briefly.
They look similar.
Not identical—but enough.
“Yeah, she’s pale,” the man says, already observing you with a practiced ease.
Then his attention shifts fully to you, his expression softening slightly.
“My name’s Will,” he says. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Your brow lifts slightly.
He’s talked about me?
“All good things, I hope,” you say, your voice still a little weak but teasing.
Will smirks slightly.
“Well, the ability to joke is a good sign.”
You huff out a small laugh.
It feels nice.
Normal.
For a second.
“Mind if I take a look at you?” he asks, already setting his bag down on the coffee table.
You nod.
“Go ahead.”
Jay stays close.
You notice that immediately.
He doesn’t move far—just enough to give Will space, but still within reach.
Still watching.
Still there.
Will crouches in front of you, his movements efficient but gentle.
“Alright,” he says. “Tell me what’s been going on.”
“Nausea’s gotten worse,” you explain. “Today’s been… rough.”
Will nods, pulling out a small light.
“Any dizziness?”
“A little.”
“Fever?”
“No.”
“Can you look at me?”
You do.
He shines the light briefly into your eyes, checking your pupils, then moves a little closer.
“Okay,” he mutters. “That’s good.”
He reaches for your wrist next, his fingers pressing lightly against your pulse.
You glance at Jay.
He’s watching closely.
Too closely.
Like he’s analyzing every movement.
Every reaction.
He’s worried.
The thought softens something in you again.
Will releases your wrist, then leans back slightly.
“Honestly?” he says. “This all sounds pretty normal.”
Your shoulders relax just slightly.
“Morning sickness can hit harder for some people,” he continues. “Especially around this time. The fact that you’re still eating—even if it’s not much—is good.”
Jay shifts beside you.
“So this is normal?” he asks.
There’s a protective edge to his voice now.
Will glances at him, then back at you.
“Yeah,” he says. “Uncomfortable, but normal.”
A beat passes.
Then, more gently—
“But if she stops keeping anything down, or it gets worse, we’ll need to step in.”
Jay nods slowly.
Still tense.
Still processing.
You look at him again.
And for the first time since this morning—
You don’t feel scared.
You feel…
Taken care of.
Not just medically.
Not just because of the situation.
But because he’s here.
Because he didn’t leave.
Because he’s trying.
And somehow—
That makes everything feel a little easier to handle.
Jay doesn’t leave.
Not after Will does.
Not after the reassurance.
Not even after the tension in the room finally settles into something quieter, something easier to breathe through.
He stays.
At first, you expect him to say something like “I should get back to work” or “I’ll check on you later.”
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he moves around your apartment like he’s already decided.
Like leaving isn’t even an option.
By the time you’ve managed to sit up properly on the couch again, he’s already in the kitchen.
You hear cabinets opening.
The soft clink of dishes.
Water running.
You glance over, watching him from where you’re curled up under the blanket.
He really stayed.
The thought settles somewhere warm in your chest.
You don’t question it.
You don’t want to.
“Hey,” he calls from the kitchen. “You think you can handle something light?”
You hesitate.
Your stomach still feels unsettled.
But—
You also know you need to eat.
Will said as much.
“I think so,” you answer.
Jay nods to himself, already moving.
Good.
She needs to eat something.
Doesn’t matter what—just something.
He keeps it simple.
Toast.
Fruit.
Something small.
Something manageable.
He brings it over carefully, setting it down in front of you like it matters more than it should.
“Try this,” he says. “Slow.”
You nod, picking at it at first.
Small bites.
Careful.
Waiting to see if your body rejects it again.
Jay watches you.
Not obviously.
But enough.
Come on… just stay down.
Please stay down.
When you manage a few bites without getting sick, something in his shoulders relaxes slightly.
You notice that too.
He’s really worried.
The thought lingers.
And it does something to you.
Something soft.
Something steady.
The rest of the day unfolds slowly.
Quietly.
In a way that feels… unexpected.
Jay stays.
Longer than you thought he would.
Longer than he probably planned to.
But neither of you brings it up.
By the afternoon, you’ve moved from the couch to sitting upright, the blanket still wrapped loosely around you.
Jay’s taken over your kitchen.
Completely.
You watch him from your spot, your chin resting lightly in your hand as he moves around like he belongs there.
Effortless.
Comfortable.
Who knew the detective could cook?
The thought makes you smile.
You didn’t expect this.
Didn’t expect him to be like this.
Not just showing up.
But staying.
Helping.
Caring in ways that go beyond what’s expected.
Beyond what’s necessary.
And the more you watch him—
The more you realize—
You like it.
You like him.
More than you probably should.
“So… the Intelligence Unit?” you ask, breaking the quiet. “Do you like it?”
Jay glances over his shoulder at you, a small smile pulling at his mouth.
“Honestly?” he says.
He turns slightly, leaning back against the counter.
“I finally feel like I’m right where I belong.”
Something in his voice shifts when he says it.
It’s subtle.
But real.
And you feel it.
You nod slowly, smiling.
“I can tell,” you say softly.
And you can.
You saw it earlier.
The way his face lit up when he talked about it.
The way his voice carried something deeper when he spoke about the people he works with.
And before that—
When he talked about the Rangers.
About the men he served with.
The friends he made.
The ones he lost.
You noticed the way his smile softened.
The way his eyes changed slightly.
Like he was remembering something important.
Something that still mattered.
He’s been through more than he lets on.
The realization settles quietly.
And instead of intimidating you—
It draws you in.
Jay studies you for a moment.
The way you’re looking at him.
Soft.
Curious.
Something more.
She’s listening.
Really listening.
And that’s new.
Different.
He’s not used to that.
Not like this.
“What about you?” he asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually asked what you do.”
You blink slightly, caught off guard.
“You haven’t?”
“No,” he admits. “Guess I’ve been a little… distracted.”
Your lips twitch.
You try not to smile.
“I work from home,” you say. “Insurance.”
Jay raises a brow slightly, glancing around your apartment.
“Must be some damn good insurance with a place like this.”
You laugh softly, shrugging.
“It pays well.”
But your mind lingers on his words.
On the way he looked around.
On the fact that he noticed.
You watch him again.
Really watch him.
The way his sleeves are pushed up slightly, exposing his forearms.
The way he moves with quiet confidence.
The way his presence fills the space without trying.
And then—
His eyes meet yours again.
And for a second—
You forget what you were thinking.
Why does he look at me like that?
Like he’s trying to figure something out.
Like he’s seeing more than you’re showing.
Your pulse picks up slightly.
You look away first.
Again.
Jay notices.
Of course he does.
The way your gaze lingers.
The way you look away after.
The way something shifts in your expression every time your eyes meet.
She’s noticing me.
The thought hits him unexpectedly.
And it does something to him.
Something he doesn’t fully understand yet.
But he doesn’t push it.
Doesn’t say anything.
Because whatever this is—
It’s still new.
Still fragile.
Still forming.
“Dinner’ll be ready soon,” he says instead, turning back toward the stove.
You nod, settling back slightly into the couch.
Your body feels better.
Not perfect.
But better.
And your mind—
It’s quieter now.
Less overwhelmed.
Less panicked.
Because he’s here.
Because he stayed.
Because he didn’t leave when things got hard.
And that—
That means more than you’re ready to admit.
As the smell of food fills the apartment, you close your eyes for just a second.
summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Curse Words??
word count: 1.8k
series masterlist
___
You sat in the waiting room, tugging at the sleeve of your sweater as your leg bounced restlessly.
It was the day of your doctor’s appointment, and your nerves were getting the best of you. Jay hadn’t called or texted all morning, and the silence only made your thoughts spiral faster.
You pulled out your phone, your thumb hovering over his name.
Just text him.
You exhaled slowly and locked your screen instead.
Maybe this was getting too real for him.
But that didn’t make sense… not really. Over the past three weeks, he’d gone above and beyond—calling every morning before work, showing up with dinner, checking on you in ways you hadn’t expected. You told yourself it was just because you were carrying his child. Responsibility. Obligation.
Nothing more.
Still… sitting here alone didn’t feel like nothing.
Your name was called, pulling you from your thoughts. You stood, smoothing your sweater, and walked toward the nurse. Just as you reached the door, it opened.
Your breath caught.
Jay.
He looked tired, slightly out of breath, like he’d rushed to get here.
“Hey,” he said.
Relief washed over you so quickly it almost made you dizzy. “Hey…”
“We can head back now,” the nurse said, already turning down the hall.
You and Jay followed her in silence. The hallway felt too bright, too sterile. When you stepped into the room, the cold hit you immediately. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you climbed onto the exam table, the thin paper crinkling beneath you.
“You can sit right there. The doctor will be in shortly.”
Jay hovered near the wall before stepping a little closer, hands shoved into his pockets.
“Sorry I’m late,” he muttered. “Work ran over.”
You nodded. “It’s okay… you made it.”
A small silence settled between you, heavier than before.
A knock came, and the doctor walked in with a gentle smile.
“Hi,” she said, glancing at your chart. “You’re about eight weeks now, right?”
“Yeah,” you answered quietly.
“Alright. How have you been feeling? Any nausea, fatigue?”
“A little of both.”
She nodded. “That’s very normal this early on.”
After washing her hands, she rolled her stool closer and began the exam, her voice calm as she asked you a few more questions. Everything felt routine, almost too routine for how fast your heart was beating.
“Everything feels consistent with early pregnancy,” she said reassuringly. “That’s good.”
She reached for a small handheld device and added, “Sometimes we can pick up a heartbeat around this time, but I want to prepare you—it can be a little early at eight weeks. If we don’t hear anything today, it doesn’t automatically mean something is wrong.”
Your stomach tightened.
“Okay…” you whispered.
The room fell quiet as she placed the device against your abdomen.
A soft static filled the air.
You stared at the ceiling, barely breathing.
Jay shifted beside you, closer now, his attention locked on the doctor.
The static continued.
The doctor adjusted the angle slightly. Then again.
Still nothing.
Your chest tightened.
“Sometimes it’s just a little too early,” she said gently, her voice calm but careful. “The baby is still very small, and positioning can make it hard to detect with this device.”
You swallowed, nodding even though your throat felt dry.
“So… that’s normal?” you asked.
“It can be,” she reassured you. “At eight weeks, it’s not uncommon at all. What I’d like to do is schedule you for an ultrasound. That will give us a much clearer picture and we should be able to confirm everything then.”
You let out a slow breath, trying to steady yourself.
Beside you, Jay didn’t say anything—but you could feel the tension in him now, the way his posture had stiffened.
The doctor gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Based on everything else today, there’s no immediate reason to panic. We just need a better look, okay?”
“Okay,” you said softly.
The word felt fragile.
The room seemed quieter than before as she stepped back, removing the device.
And just like that, the uncertainty settled in—unspoken, but impossible to ignore.
Jay finally shifted, his voice low. “We’ll… we’ll go to the ultrasound. It’s fine.”
You glanced at him.
He wasn’t fully convincing—but he was trying.
And for now, that had to be enough.
After the doctor’s appointment, Jay offers to take you to lunch.
You hesitate at first.
Not because you don’t want to go—but because everything feels… heavier now.
Real.
There’s no more guessing. No more “maybe.”
Now there are dates. Weeks. A timeline.
A heartbeat in the near future.
And somehow, sitting across from him feels just as overwhelming as the appointment itself.
But you say yes anyway.
And that’s how you end up here.
The diner is small, crowded, and louder than you expected.
Silverware clinks against plates. Conversations overlap. A waitress calls out orders from across the room. The smell of coffee and fried food lingers in the air, thick enough to make your stomach turn slightly.
You shift in your seat, trying to focus on something steady.
Something grounding.
Your fingers fidget with the edge of your napkin before your gaze drifts—
Back to him.
Jay sits across from you, his elbows resting lightly on the table, his posture a little more tense than usual. Like he hasn’t fully settled since walking in.
Or maybe he’s just as aware of this moment as you are.
Your eyes linger longer than they should.
On the sharp line of his jaw.
The light stubble that softens it just enough.
The way his brown hair falls slightly out of place, like he’s run his hand through it too many times today.
You remember him doing that earlier.
Outside the doctor’s office.
Nervous.
The thought makes something shift in your chest.
Then your gaze moves—
To his eyes.
Blue.
Clear.
Focused entirely on you.
It makes your breath catch slightly when you realize he’s already looking at you.
You look down quickly, heat creeping into your face.
You shouldn’t be noticing things like that.
Not right now.
Not when everything feels this serious.
And yet—
You can’t seem to stop.
“I’m sorry I was late,” he says, shifting slightly in his seat. His hand runs over the back of his neck again, and you catch the movement this time.
You notice everything now.
“And… I’m sorry I didn’t call you this morning. We had a break in the case last night and I got called in.”
You shake your head gently, pushing your food around your plate.
“You don’t have to apologize,” you say softly. “You showed up just in time.”
Your eyes flick up to him again.
And you mean that.
More than you’re saying.
“Did everything work out?” you ask. “With the case?”
“Yeah,” he replies, nodding. “We caught him. Just took a little longer than expected.”
You nod, but your attention drifts again.
Back to him.
The way he sits. The way his shoulders seem tense, even when he’s trying to relax. The way he watches you like he’s trying to read something you haven’t said out loud.
Your stomach turns again, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You take a bite of your food, but it doesn’t sit well.
Not even a little.
“You look a little nauseous,” he says quietly.
Your eyes lift.
There it is again.
That look.
Soft. Concerned. Focused only on you.
“Are you okay?”
You nod quickly. “Yeah. I’ve just been really nauseous today.”
He nods slowly.
“Yeah… they said that was expected.”
Expected.
The word settles heavily.
Because everything about this is becoming real. Predictable. Something you can’t ignore anymore.
You lean back slightly, your hand drifting unconsciously to your stomach.
“So… this is really happening, huh?” you say.
Your voice sounds quieter now.
More uncertain.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “It really is.”
You glance at him again.
And for a second, everything else fades.
The noise. The people. The movement around you.
It’s just him.
Just the way his eyes hold yours.
Steady.
Grounding.
“How are you feeling about it?” he asks.
You hesitate.
Because how do you even answer that?
Your fingers tighten slightly around your fork.
You shrug instead.
“Honestly… I’m still trying to come to terms with it,” you admit. “It doesn’t feel real yet.”
Your eyes drop briefly, then lift again.
“But I think when we hear the heartbeat…”
Your breath catches slightly.
“…it’ll be real then.”
His expression shifts.
Softer.
Like he understands exactly what you mean.
“Are you sure you want to keep it?” he asks.
The question is quiet.
Careful.
But it still hits you harder than you expect.
Your eyes lock onto his again.
Blue.
Always those blue eyes.
So steady.
So unreadable and yet—
Somehow honest.
“Do you?” you ask.
He leans back slightly, like the question catches him off guard.
You watch him this time.
Really watch him.
The way his jaw tightens slightly.
The way his hand moves again through his hair.
The way he takes a second before answering—like this matters.
Like you matter.
“I’ve always wanted to be a father,” he says finally.
summary: A New York teacher moves to Chicago for a temporary job and unexpectedly falls for her neighbor,
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: none
word count: 3k
____
The first box almost kills you.
“Okay—nope,” you mutter under your breath, shifting your grip as the cardboard tilts dangerously in your arms. The edges bite into your palms, your fingers slipping slightly against the worn tape. “This is how I go. Not in a dramatic, cinematic way—just crushed by books and bad decisions in a third-floor walk-up.”
The hallway feels too narrow.
Too warm.
The air clings to your skin, thick and unmoving, and your arms ache with a dull, burning weight that’s been building since the first flight of stairs. You can feel sweat gathering at the back of your neck, sliding slowly down your spine, uncomfortable and unavoidable.
You take one more step.
The box shifts.
Slips.
Your stomach drops, a sharp, sudden panic rising in your chest—
“Need some help with that?”
Your breath catches.
Strong hands steady the box before it can fall, firm and certain, like it was never actually in danger.
Like you weren’t.
For a second, you just stand there, frozen—your body still braced for impact that never comes.
Then you look up.
—and everything else seems to pause.
He’s tall.
Not just tall—solid. The kind of presence that fills a space without trying, broad shoulders taking up more of the hallway than they should. His dark hair is slightly messy, like he’s run his hands through it too many times, and his expression—
It’s calm.
Almost amused.
Like this is easy for him.
Like you’re not standing here barely holding yourself together after dragging your entire life up three flights of stairs.
And his eyes—
Blue.
Clear.
Steady.
They settle on you in a way that feels… focused. Intent. Like he’s actually seeing you, not just the situation.
Your pulse stutters.
You’re suddenly very aware of everything.
Your breathing.
Your hands.
The fact that you probably look like a complete disaster right now.
“Yeah,” you say quickly, your voice just a little breathless. “Actually—yes. Please.”
He takes the box from you like it weighs nothing.
The relief hits instantly.
So fast it almost makes you dizzy.
Your arms feel lighter, your shoulders dropping as the tension leaves your body all at once.
Embarrassing.
You don’t even try to hide it.
“Which one’s yours?” he asks.
“3B.”
He nods toward the door just ahead. “You made it.”
You glance over your shoulder, blinking like you hadn’t even noticed. “Oh. That would explain why the stairs stopped.”
A small smile pulls at his mouth.
It’s subtle.
But it does something to you anyway—something you don’t have time to think about.
You unlock the door, stepping inside, and he follows without hesitation, setting the box down carefully like it actually matters where it lands.
Like it matters to you.
“Where do you want it?”
You let out a quiet breath, rolling your shoulders slightly, trying to shake off the lingering tension. “Anywhere that isn’t my arms anymore.”
That earns a soft laugh.
It’s low.
Easy.
And for some reason, it settles something in your chest.
You rub your hands together, still feeling the ghost of the weight, the faint sting where the cardboard pressed too hard.
“Thank you,” you say, softer now. “Seriously.”
“No problem.”
And then—
A pause.
Not awkward.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… there.
Like something has shifted slightly, even though neither of you has said anything.
“Neighbor?” you ask, more to fill the space than anything else.
He nods. “3A.”
You smile, something loosening in your chest without permission. “Good. Glad to know I moved in next to someone useful.”
“Jay,” he says, holding out his hand.
You hesitate for half a second.
Then take it.
His grip is warm.
Steady.
And for reasons you can’t quite explain, grounding in a way that feels unfamiliar.
You’ve only been in Chicago for a few hours.
And already—
You don’t feel quite as alone.
“Nice to meet you.”
Chicago wasn’t supposed to feel like this.
It was supposed to feel temporary.
That’s what you told yourself.
A few months. A contract. A purpose.
Then back to New York.
Back to your apartment, your routines, your life—the one that made sense. The one that fit.
The one that didn’t leave room for things like this.
For people like him.
Simple.
That was the plan.
Except it stopped feeling simple the moment Jay knocked on your door again.
At first, it made sense.
“Need help with the rest of those boxes?”
Then—
“You eaten?”
And then, somehow—
“Come on. I’ll show you the city.”
And you should have said no.
You meant to say no.
But you didn’t.
And now—
Now you’re here.
Molly’s hums with energy.
Warm.
Loud.
Alive in a way that makes your chest feel tight for reasons you can’t quite name.
You pause just inside the door, your gaze moving across the room.
People laughing like they belong here.
Like this place is theirs.
Like they’ve always been part of something steady.
Something rooted.
And you—
You’re still passing through.
Still temporary.
Still someone who hasn’t decided where she belongs yet.
“This your first time?” Jay asks.
His voice pulls you back.
You nod slowly. “Yeah.”
You’re aware of him beside you.
Too aware.
Of the space between you.
Of the fact that it feels smaller than it should.
“You bring all your neighbors here?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.
“Only the ones who complain about Chicago pizza.”
You huff a quiet laugh. “I stand by that.”
“Of course you do.”
Then—
His hand presses lightly against the small of your back.
Guiding you forward.
It’s brief.
Barely there.
But it lingers.
The warmth of it stays longer than it should, settling low in your chest, unfamiliar and distracting.
You shouldn’t notice it.
But you do.
And the worst part?
You don’t want to stop noticing it.
You slide onto a stool, smoothing your hands over your jeans, grounding yourself in something physical.
Something real.
“You come here a lot?” you ask.
“Sometimes,” he says. “After long shifts. It’s… easy.”
Easy.
The word sticks.
Because nothing about this feels easy.
Not the way your thoughts keep circling back to him.
Not the way your chest tightens when he looks at you like that.
Not the way this already feels like something you might not be able to walk away from.
And that—
That scares you.
More than it should.
You take a slow breath.
Trying to steady yourself.
Trying to remind yourself—
This isn’t permanent.
He isn’t permanent.
None of this is.
And yet—
When you glance at him again, when his eyes meet yours without hesitation—
It doesn’t feel temporary.
It feels like something just beginning.
And you don’t know if you’re ready for that.
But you know—
You don’t want it to end.
A week later, he shows up at your classroom.
You’re mid-sentence, trying to explain metaphors to a group of students who would rather be anywhere else, when there’s a knock at the door.
You glance up.
And there he is.
Leaning against the frame like he belongs there.
The entire class goes silent.
Every head turns.
“Uh…” you blink. “Can I help you?”
Jay steps inside, calm as ever. “Just checking in.”
A student immediately raises his hand. “Miss, who is that?”
You hesitate.
Jay doesn’t.
“Friend.”
The word lands differently than it should.
“Are you a cop?” another student blurts.
Jay smirks. “Yeah.”
And just like that—
You lose control of your classroom.
The kids are suddenly wide awake, full of questions, hanging on every word he says. He answers them easily, naturally, like he’s done this before—even though you know he hasn’t.
You should be annoyed.
You try to be.
But when the bell rings and the students leave talking excitedly about your cop friend, you can’t quite bring yourself to mean it.
“You just ruined my lesson,” you say.
“They were listening.”
“They were interrogating you.”
“They liked it.”
You sigh.
Then smile.
“Yeah,” you admit. “They did.”
It becomes a rhythm.
Late-night walks where neither of you wants to be the first to say goodnight.
Coffee runs that turn into conversations about everything and nothing.
He shows you the lake at sunset—the water glowing gold and endless.
He shows you the skyline at night—the city alive in a way that makes your chest ache.
He shows you Chicago like it matters.
Like you matter.
And somewhere along the way—
You stop counting the days until you leave.
Until reality catches up.
“I go back in two weeks.”
The words feel heavier than they should.
They don’t just sit in the air—they settle, sinking into the space between you, into your chest, into something deeper you don’t quite want to look at yet.
Jay doesn’t react right away.
He just looks at you.
Really looks at you.
Like he’s trying to figure out if you mean it. Like he’s waiting for you to take it back.
“Back to New York?” he asks.
You nod, even though the motion feels stiff, uncertain. “Yeah.”
Your voice sounds distant to your own ears.
Detached.
Like you’re talking about someone else’s life instead of your own.
“It was always temporary,” you say, quieter now, the words feeling more like something you’re reminding yourself of than telling him.
A few months. A contract. A plan.
You’d said it so many times before it became something solid.
Something safe.
But now—
Now it feels fragile.
Like it could break if you press too hard.
“Yeah,” he mutters, his jaw tightening slightly. “I just didn’t think about it actually happening.”
That lands harder than it should.
Because neither did you.
Not really.
Not in a way that felt real.
Not in a way that accounted for him.
You look down at your hands, your fingers twisting together in your lap.
“My life is there,” you say, your voice softer now, almost uncertain.
And that’s true.
It is.
Your apartment. Your job. Your routine.
Everything you built.
Everything that made sense before this.
“And this?” he asks.
Your breath catches.
You don’t answer.
Because you don’t know how to.
Because you don’t know what this is anymore.
Not just neighbors.
Not just friends.
Not something simple you can pack up and leave behind like it doesn’t matter.
And that—
That’s the problem.
The days after that feel different.
Still good.
Still easy in the way your conversations flow, in the way he still shows up like nothing’s changed.
But underneath it—
A countdown.
You feel it in everything.
In the way you notice how his hand brushes yours a second longer than before.
In the way silence between you feels heavier.
In the way you start memorizing things without meaning to—
The sound of his laugh.
The way his voice softens when he says your name.
The way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention.
Like you matter.
Like you’ve always mattered.
And every time you notice—
It makes leaving harder.
Your last night comes too fast.
Too soon.
Your apartment feels like home now.
Which is exactly what makes it hurt.
The walls don’t feel empty anymore.
The space doesn’t feel temporary.
It feels lived in.
It feels like you.
And somehow—
It feels like him too.
Your suitcase sits open on the bed.
Half-packed.
Clothes folded too neatly, like you’re trying to convince yourself this is just another trip.
Just another return.
Nothing permanent.
Nothing final.
But it doesn’t feel like that.
You stare at it, your chest tight, your thoughts too loud.
You could stay.
The thought slips in quietly.
Dangerous.
Unplanned.
You shake your head slightly, pushing it away.
You’re not impulsive.
You don’t make decisions like that.
You have a life.
A plan.
You don’t—
A knock interrupts the spiral.
Your breath catches.
You already know who it is.
Of course it’s him.
It’s always him.
You stand there for a second, your hand hovering over the doorknob.
Then you open it.
Jay stands there, tension written all over him.
It’s in his shoulders.
In the way his hands flex slightly at his sides.
In the way his eyes lock onto yours immediately, like he’s been thinking about this moment just as much as you have.
“Hey,” you say softly.
“Hey.”
The word feels different now.
Heavier.
Like it carries everything you’re both trying not to say.
You step back, letting him inside.
He walks in slowly, his gaze moving around your apartment like he’s taking it all in.
Memorizing it.
Memorizing this.
“You’re packed,” he says.
“Mostly.”
Your voice feels smaller now.
Less certain.
Silence settles between you.
Not awkward.
Just… heavy.
Real in a way that makes it hard to breathe.
“I didn’t think it’d feel like this,” you admit.
“Like what?”
You swallow, your chest tightening.
“Like I’m leaving something behind.”
“You are.”
The certainty in his voice hits you straight in the chest.
No hesitation.
No doubt.
And that—
That makes it real.
“I didn’t plan for this,” you whisper. “For you.”
Your voice breaks just slightly on the last word.
You hadn’t planned for him.
For the way he slipped into your life so easily.
For the way he made this city feel less temporary.
For the way he made you feel less alone.
A beat passes.
The air feels too still.
Too quiet.
Then—
“Stay.”
The word lands like everything.
Your head snaps up, your heart stuttering.
“What?”
“Stay,” he says again, stepping closer.
Closer than before.
Close enough that you can feel the heat of him.
“Don’t go back. Not yet.”
Your chest tightens, your breath uneven.
“You can’t just say that,” you reply, shaking your head, even though your voice lacks conviction.
“Why not?”
“Because my life is there!” you say, your voice rising slightly.
Because it has to be.
Because it was.
“And you don’t have one here?” he asks.
The question stops you.
Because you do.
You’ve built something here.
Something real.
Something you didn’t expect.
Your chest tightens as the realization settles deeper.
“You matter,” he says.
And that—
That’s what breaks you.
Not the argument.
Not the logic.
That.
Because he means it.
You can hear it in his voice.
See it in his eyes.
Feel it in the way he’s standing in front of you like he’s not willing to just let you walk away.
Your breath shakes.
“You’re making this hard,” you whisper.
“I know.”
“But I don’t want to make it easy for you to leave.”
You glance toward your suitcase.
Then back at him.
Your future feels like it’s split in two.
New York.
Chicago.
The life you planned.
And the one you didn’t.
“If I stay…” you start, your voice barely steady.
His eyes don’t leave yours.
“I’m not saying forever,” you continue. “I can’t promise that.”
“Then don’t,” he says softly.
No pressure.No expectation.
Just—
Stay.
The word settles into you differently this time.
Not overwhelming.Not suffocating.
Just… open.
A choice.
Your choice.
You take a breath.A real one.
And for the first time—
You’re not thinking about what you’re supposed to do.
You’re thinking about what you want.
And that—
That changes everything.
Slowly, you step toward him.
“I can stay a little longer,” you say quietly, a small, uncertain smile forming.
Relief flashes across his face, quick and unguarded.
“Yeah?” he asks.
You nod.
“Yeah.”
And just like that—
Something shifts.
He pulls you in, his hands steady on you, like he’s been holding back from doing this for longer than you realized.
The kiss is soft at first. Careful. Like he’s giving you time to change your mind.
You don’t.
Your hands find his shirt, gripping slightly as you lean into him, your chest finally loosening in a way it hasn’t in days.
Because for the first time—
You’re not thinking about leaving.
You’re not thinking about what comes next.
You’re not thinking about what this means long-term.
You’re just—
Here.
With him.
And it feels right.
Chicago wasn’t supposed to be permanent.
But neither was he.
And now—
Standing here, wrapped up in something you never planned—
You’re not so sure either of those things are temporary anymore.
summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Curse Words??
word count: 4.4k
series masterlist
---
The silence he leaves behind is louder than anything that came before it.
You don’t move.
For a moment—longer than it should be—you just stand there, staring at the closed door, half-expecting it to open again. Like he might come back, say something else, undo the way everything in your life just shifted.
But it stays shut.
Your fingers curl tighter around the card in your hand, the edges biting faintly into your skin.
I’m not going to let you do this alone.
The words linger, settling somewhere deep in your chest—unfamiliar and heavy.
You force yourself to breathe.
Then to move.
The hallway feels longer on the way out. Brighter. Louder. The noise of the station crashes back into you all at once—phones ringing, voices overlapping, boots hitting the floor—but it all feels distant, like you’re standing just outside of it.
No one looks at you.
No one stops you.
And somehow, that makes it worse.
Because to you, everything has changed.
And to everyone else… it’s just another day.
You push through the front doors, the cool air outside hitting your face sharply enough to ground you. You inhale deeply, letting it steady you, even just a little.
Your hand tightens around the card as you make your way down the steps.
You found him.
You told him.
And he didn’t run.
That should feel like relief.
It doesn’t.
Because now this is real in a way it wasn’t before.
Now it isn’t just something happening to you.
Now it’s something that belongs to both of you.
Your car comes into view, and you move toward it without thinking, your steps quickening as if getting inside will somehow make this easier.
It doesn’t.
The second the door shuts behind you, the quiet presses in again.
You sit there, staring ahead, your hands resting uselessly in your lap.
Then your gaze drops.
The card.
Jay Halstead.
You trace his name slowly with your thumb, as if the motion might help you make sense of any of this.
A stranger.
Not a stranger.
Something in between.
A soft, breathless laugh escapes you, humorless and quiet. “What am I doing…”
Because you don’t have a plan.
You don’t have answers.
You don’t even know what you want this to look like.
Your hand drifts, almost unconsciously, to your stomach.
There’s nothing there. No sign. No change.
And yet—
Everything has already changed.
Your throat tightens.
You swallow past it, forcing it down.
~
Later that night you sit alone, thoughts heavy and stomach queasy.
You reach for your phone. It feels heavier than it should, like it carries more than just a screen and a number.
Your thumb hovers as you unlock it, your heart picking up with each second.
You could call him.
You probably should.
That’s what people do, right? They talk. They figure things out.
But the thought alone makes your chest feel tight.
What would you even say?
Hi. It’s me. The girl who just told you she’s pregnant with your kid.
You let out a small, hollow laugh.
“Yeah,” you mutter. “That sounds normal.”
Your thumb hesitates… then pulls back.
Not yet.
You’re not ready.
You drop your phone into your lap, dragging a hand over your face as you exhale.
You just need a minute.
A moment where everything isn’t happening all at once.
The quiet stretches.
And for a second, you almost convince yourself you can stay here like this—just a little longer. That if you don’t move, nothing else will change.
Your phone buzzes.
The sound is sharp in the silence, making you jump.
Your eyes drop to the screen.
And your breath catches.
Jay Halstead
Of course.
Of course he would call.
Your fingers tighten around the phone as you stare at his name, your heart hammering harder with every second it rings.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
You could ignore it.
Let it go to voicemail.
Buy yourself more time.
But your thumb moves before you can stop it.
You answer.
“…Hello?”
There’s a brief pause.
Then his voice—lower now, quieter than before.
“Hey… it’s Jay.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Yeah. I figured.”
Smooth.
Real smooth.
A quiet exhale comes through the line, almost like a laugh. “Yeah, I didn’t really think that through.”
The corner of your mouth lifts slightly despite yourself.
The silence that follows isn’t as heavy as before—but it’s still there, hovering between you.
“I didn’t want you leaving thinking I was just gonna… disappear,” he says after a moment.
Your chest tightens.
“Okay,” you say softly.
“I meant what I said,” he adds. “About not letting you do this alone.”
Your fingers tighten slightly around the card still in your other hand.
“I know.”
A pause.
Then, more carefully, “Have you seen a doctor yet?”
You shake your head automatically, then realize he can’t see you. “No. Not yet.”
“Okay.” His tone shifts slightly—more focused now. “We should probably start there.”
We.
The word lands heavier than anything else he’s said.
You shift in your seat, your nerves settling into something quieter. Less sharp.
“Yeah,” you murmur. “That… makes sense.”
“I can go with you,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “If you want.”
Your breath catches.
You weren’t expecting that.
You weren’t expecting him to step in so easily.
“I don’t—” you start, then stop.
Because the truth is, you don’t want to do this alone.
“…okay,” you say finally.
There’s a subtle shift on the other end. Relief, maybe.
“Okay,” he echoes.
And for the first time since all of this started—
You don’t feel completely overwhelmed.
Not gone.
Not even close.
But… manageable.
“Text me when you set it up,” he adds. “Or I can help you find somewhere.”
“I can do it,” you say quickly, then soften. “But I’ll text you.”
“Alright.”
Another pause settles between you.
This one different.
Easier.
Like something has shifted into place, even if neither of you fully understands what it is yet.
“Well,” he says after a moment, “I should get back to it.”
“Yeah,” you reply. “Your… job.”
There’s that quiet almost-laugh again. “Yeah. That.”
You nod, even though he can’t see it.
“Be safe,” you say before you can stop yourself.
The words hang there for a second, and you wince slightly.
But then—
“You too. Call me if you need anything.”
And just like that, the call ends.
You stare at your phone for a long moment after the screen goes dark.
Then slowly, you lower it into your lap.
The world outside your car looks the same.
Feels the same.
But something inside you has shifted.
Just a little.
You glance down at the card one last time before placing it carefully in your center console—somewhere safe.
Somewhere you won’t lose it.
Then you take a breath.
A real one.
And reach for the keys.
Because no matter how terrifying this is—
Life isn’t stopping.
And now…
Neither are you.
~
Three more weeks.
That’s how long you have to wait before you can see a doctor.
It shouldn’t feel like such a long time.
But it does.
It feels endless.
You sit curled up on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, your phone resting loosely in your hand. The screen lights up every few seconds as you check it again—even though you know there’s nothing new.
You already texted Jay.
Told him about the appointment.
Told him when it was.
And now… nothing.
No reply.
You try not to let it bother you.
He said you weren’t going to do this alone.
He looked you in the eyes when he said it. He sounded sure.
But doubt creeps in anyway.
Slow. Quiet. Persistent.
What if he changed his mind?
Your grip tightens slightly around your phone.
What if he realized how real this is… and decided he didn’t want it?
Your chest tightens at the thought, your stomach twisting uncomfortably.
No.
You shake your head, pushing the thought away before it can settle.
He wouldn’t say something like that if he didn’t mean it.
Right?
…right?
The silence in your apartment suddenly feels too loud.
Too heavy.
You drop your phone beside you and lean back into the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Three weeks.
Three weeks of waiting.
Three weeks of thinking.
Three weeks of not knowing what the hell your life is about to become.
Your hand drifts down to your stomach again, almost without you realizing it.
There’s nothing there.
Not really.
No movement. No bump. No sign of anything changing.
And yet—
Everything already has.
“I’m pregnant,” you whisper under your breath, the words still foreign on your tongue.
You’ve said them before.
But they don’t feel any more real now than they did the first time.
A sudden wave of emotion hits you—fear, confusion, something else you can’t quite name—and you squeeze your eyes shut.
You don’t know if you’re ready for this.
You don’t know if you’ll ever feel ready.
The sound of the front door opening pulls you out of your thoughts.
You sit up slightly, blinking as you turn your head.
Audrey walks in like a storm, arms full of grocery bags—three of them, all stuffed to the point where they look like they might rip.
You stare at her for a second.
“Okay… what is all that?” you ask, your voice still a little distant.
She kicks the door shut behind her and heads straight for the kitchen like she owns the place.
“Well,” she says, dropping the bags onto the counter with a satisfied little huff, “since you’re pregnant, I figured I should make sure my niece is being properly fed.”
A small laugh escapes you before you can stop it, and you push yourself up off the couch, making your way over to her.
“You’re really excited about this, huh?”
She gives you a look—one that says obviously.
“Well, yeah.”
You shake your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite everything. “And how exactly do you know it’s a girl?”
She shrugs, already digging through the bags, pulling out snacks like she’s preparing for the apocalypse.
“I just have a feeling.”
“Right,” you mutter.
“And you’re naming her after me,” she adds, completely serious.
You huff out a soft laugh. “You are enjoying this way too much.”
She pauses then, glancing up at you.
Her expression softens just a little.
“You’re going to have to come to terms with it eventually,” she says, her tone quieter now. “Because I know, somewhere in there… you’re excited.”
You open your mouth to argue.
To tell her she’s wrong.
That this isn’t what you planned. That this isn’t how you wanted things to happen. That you’re not ready for any of this.
But the word she used hits you first.
Mom.
It echoes in your head, louder than anything else.
I’m going to be a mom.
Your breath catches slightly.
You repeat it in your mind, over and over, like you’re trying to force yourself to understand it.
To accept it.
To believe it.
But instead, it just makes your stomach twist.
Hard.
Your expression falters, and before you can stop it, a wave of nausea hits you.
Fast.
Sudden.
Overwhelming.
“Oh—” you choke out, already turning away.
You barely make it to the sink before it happens.
Your body lurches forward as everything you ate earlier comes up, your hands gripping the edge of the counter tightly as you try to steady yourself.
Behind you, you hear Audrey move instantly.
“Okay—yep, there it is,” she says, her tone half concerned, half… impressed. “Morning sickness. Classic.”
You groan weakly, resting your forehead against your arm as you try to catch your breath.
“Not funny,” you mumble.
She’s beside you now, one hand gently pulling your hair back.
“I didn’t say it was funny,” she replies. “I said it was classic.”
You let out a quiet, miserable huff.
“Great,” you mutter. “So this is my life now.”
“For a little while, yeah,” she says, softer this time.
You rinse your mouth with the water she hands you, the coolness helping just enough to take the edge off.
But not the feeling.
Not the reality of it.
You set the glass down slowly, your hand drifting—again—to your stomach.
Your fingers press lightly against it.
Still nothing.
Still no sign of anything.
But your body knows.
Your life knows.
Everything knows.
You close your eyes briefly, swallowing hard.
Three weeks.
Three weeks until everything becomes even more real.
And you don’t know if you’re ready for that.
But ready or not—
It’s coming.
And this time…
There’s no pretending it isn’t.
~~~~
It’s later that night when your phone buzzes.
You don’t think much of it at first.
But when you glance down at the screen and see his name—
Your breath catches.
Jay Halstead.
For a second, you just stare at it.
Then you open the message.
I’m coming over. If that’s okay.
Your stomach flips.
That’s… not what you expected.
Not a “how are you.”
Not a “we should talk.”
Not even a question, really.
Just—
He’s coming over.
You stare at the screen, your mind racing.
You want him to come.
You do.
You want to sit down, face-to-face, and actually talk about this—about everything. About what happens next. About what this even means for the two of you.
But at the same time—
Anxiety creeps in, sharp and overwhelming.
Part of you wants to disappear.
To curl up in your room, pull the covers over your head, and pretend none of this is happening.
Because once he walks through that door again—
This becomes real in a way you can’t ignore.
You inhale slowly, trying to steady yourself.
You can’t avoid this.
Not anymore.
Your fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before you finally type back.
Yeah. That’s okay.
You hit send before you can overthink it.
And just like that—
There’s no backing out.
Your phone drops into your lap as you lean back against the couch, your heart already starting to race.
You glance around your apartment, suddenly hyper-aware of everything.
The blanket thrown over the arm of the couch. The dishes in the sink. The soft glow of the TV still playing something you haven’t been paying attention to.
You smooth your hands over your shirt, like that somehow matters.
Your thoughts drift—uninvited—to the last time he was here.
The only time.
It hadn’t been like this.
There had been no tension.
No uncertainty.
No weight pressing down on every word, every glance.
Just heat.
Just chemistry.
Just one reckless night where neither of you thought about consequences.
You swallow.
Neither of you knew that night would turn into this.
Into something permanent.
A knock at the door pulls you out of your thoughts.
Your head snaps up.
That was fast.
You glance at the clock—thirty minutes.
Your heart starts pounding again as you grab the remote, turning the TV volume down until the room falls quiet.
For a second, you just stand there.
Then you force yourself to move.
Each step toward the door feels heavier than the last.
You reach it, hesitating for just a moment before leaning forward to look through the peephole.
It’s him.
Your breath catches.
He looks… different.
Not physically.
But there’s something in his posture—his shoulders slightly tense, his hand running through his hair like he’s trying to work out nerves he doesn’t usually have.
You unlock the door.
Open it.
And there he is.
Closer now.
Real.
“Hey,” you say softly.
“Hey,” he replies.
For a second, neither of you moves.
Then you step back, opening the door wider and gesturing for him to come in.
He walks past you, his presence immediately filling the space in a way that makes your chest tighten.
Familiar.
And not.
You close the door behind him, turning back just in time to see him glance around the apartment—like he remembers it, like he’s placing himself back into it.
“You doing okay?” he asks, his voice quieter now, more careful.
You nod, crossing your arms loosely over your stomach without thinking.
“Yeah… I’ve been a little sick,” you admit. “But nothing too bad.”
His expression shifts slightly at that—something concerned flickering across his face.
“Morning sickness?” he asks.
You huff out a small breath. “Apparently.”
A faint, almost amused smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.
“Yeah… I’ve heard that’s a thing.”
You let out a quiet laugh, the tension easing just a fraction.
For a moment, you just stand there.
Looking at each other.
Neither of you quite sure where to start.
Because this—
This isn’t the same as last time.
Not even close.
This time, there’s too much to say.
And somehow…
No easy way to say it.
“So… what are you thinking about all of this?” he asks.
The question settles between you, heavier than it should be.
You let out a slow breath, turning away from him as you make your way back to the couch. The blanket you’d been curled up in earlier is still there, and you pull it around yourself again—like it might offer some kind of protection.
Some kind of comfort.
You sit, tucking your legs beneath you, then glance up at him.
“Sit,” you mumble softly, motioning beside you.
He does.
But not too close.
A few feet of space remains between you—intentional or not, you’re not sure.
Still, his eyes don’t leave yours.
Waiting.
Patient.
You swallow, your fingers tightening slightly in the fabric of the blanket.
“I don’t know,” you admit quietly. “Honestly… I don’t know what I’m thinking.”
Your voice feels small in the room.
“I’m scared,” you continue after a moment, your gaze dropping to your hands. “Anxious. Still kind of in shock.”
You let out a soft, almost breathless laugh, but there’s no humor in it.
“I mean… neither of us expected this. Not from one night.”
The words hang there.
Real.
Unavoidable.
You glance back up at him, searching his face for something—anything.
He nods slowly, his expression serious, understanding.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I didn’t expect this either.”
There’s a pause.
A longer one this time.
You shift slightly under the blanket, pulling it tighter around yourself.
“I had plans,” you admit, your voice softer now. “You know? Like… I knew what I wanted my life to look like. And this just—”
You stop, shaking your head.
“It doesn’t fit into any of that.”
The vulnerability in your words lingers in the air, and for a second, you almost regret saying it out loud.
But it’s the truth.
And he doesn’t interrupt you.
Doesn’t brush it off.
He just… listens.
“I don’t even know you,” you add, your voice quieter now, more honest than you intended. “Not really.”
That one lands differently.
You can see it in the slight shift of his expression.
Not hurt.
But something close.
“Yeah,” he says after a moment, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Your brows knit slightly. “You were?”
He nods, leaning forward just a little, his elbows resting on his knees.
“We barely know each other,” he says. “And now we’re trying to figure out something this big… together.”
Together.
The word lingers.
You don’t know why it affects you the way it does.
“But,” he adds, lifting his gaze back to yours, “that doesn’t mean we can’t.”
Your breath catches slightly.
The confidence in his voice isn’t overwhelming—it’s not forced or unrealistic.
It’s steady.
Grounded.
Real.
“I don’t expect you to have it all figured out right now,” he continues. “Hell, I don’t either.”
A small, almost nervous smile tugs at your lips.
“Good,” you mutter. “Because I definitely don’t.”
That earns the faintest hint of a smile from him.
And for a second—
Just a second—
The tension in the room eases.
Then his expression softens again, something more serious returning.
“But I meant what I said earlier,” he says. “You’re not doing this alone.”
Your eyes meet his again.
And this time—
You believe him.
Not completely.
Not yet.
But enough.
The space between you suddenly feels… noticeable.
Not uncomfortable.
Just there.
Like something waiting to be crossed.
Neither of you moves.
Neither of you says anything.
But the air shifts.
Just slightly.
And for the first time since he walked through your door—
You don’t feel quite as overwhelmed as you did before.
summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
summary: After a one-night stand turns into an unexpected pregnancy, you must navigate fear, uncertainty, and growing connection with a man you barely know.
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Curse Words??
word count: 2.9k
series masterlist
___
It was supposed to be a one-night thing.
Something reckless.
Something you’d laugh about later—filed away as a mistake wrapped in passion and bad decisions.
But now, standing in the harsh bathroom light, none of it felt funny.
You could still remember him—his hands, the heat of his touch, the way his lips traced down your neck like he had all the time in the world. The way you let yourself forget everything else.
You were never supposed to see him again.
Your fingers tighten around the plastic stick as your eyes stay locked on it, your breath coming shallow and uneven.
Two pink lines.
Your stomach drops.
“No…” you whisper, but the word barely makes it out.
Your body goes stiff, like if you don’t move, it won’t be real. Like you can somehow freeze this moment before it sinks in.
You sink down onto the closed toilet lid, your legs suddenly too weak to hold you up.
Pregnant.
The word doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like it belongs to you.
Your mind races—fast, chaotic, overwhelming.
Doctor’s appointments. Money. Telling people. Your future.
Your plans.
Everything you thought your life was going to look like suddenly feels… distant. Like it belongs to someone else now.
Your hand moves unconsciously, resting against your stomach.
Nothing feels different.
And yet everything is.
A shaky breath leaves your lips.
“How am I supposed to do this?” you whisper, more to yourself than anyone else.
Because this isn’t just a mistake anymore.
It’s permanent.
By a man whose last name you don’t even know. A man you have no way of finding.
“Bitch, what does it say?” Audrey’s voice calls from the other side of the door, impatient and loud as ever.
You don’t answer.
You can’t.
A second later, the door swings open. “Okay, now you’re scaring me—”
She stops when she sees you. Sees your face. Sees the test in your hand.
You don’t look up. You can’t. Your gaze is glued to those two stupid lines like they might rearrange themselves if you stare hard enough.
“Oh… oh shit,” you breathe.
Audrey walks over slowly, then gently takes the test from your hand. She looks at it, her brows lifting—and then, to your disbelief—
“Oh hell yeah! I told you!” she blurts. “I’m gonna be an aunt!”
You let out a sharp, frustrated sound, pushing past her. “This isn’t funny, Audrey.”
Your hands tangle in your hair, tugging as you pace into the kitchen, your thoughts crashing into each other.
“Come on,” she says, following you. “You’ve always wanted a kid.”
“Yeah,” you snap, grabbing a bottle of tequila out of instinct—only to freeze when it hits you.
You can’t even drink.
That realization hits almost as hard as the test itself.
You set the bottle down a little too forcefully.
“Yeah, I want kids,” you continue, your voice tighter now. “Just—not like this. Not right now. Not with someone I can’t even find.”
Your chest feels tight. Everything feels too big, too fast.
“I don’t even know his last name, Audrey,” you say, your voice cracking slightly. “We met at a bar. That’s it. One night—and now this is… my life?”
The excitement on Audrey’s face fades, replaced with something softer. More real.
“Hey,” she says, stepping closer. She reaches for your hands, gently pulling them away from your hair. “Look at me.”
It takes a second, but you do.
“You’re not alone in this,” she says firmly. “Whatever you decide—whatever happens—I’m here. Okay?”
Your throat tightens, and you swallow hard, blinking back the burn behind your eyes.
“I had plans,” you whisper. “This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
Audrey gives a small, almost sympathetic shrug. “Life doesn’t really care about plans.”
A hollow laugh escapes you. “Yeah… clearly.”
For a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence settles heavy, but not unbearable.
“What am I supposed to do first?” you ask quietly.
“First,” she says, shifting into practical mode, “we confirm it. Like, actual doctor confirmation. Then we sit down and go through your options. No rushing. No panicking more than we already are.”
You nod slowly, clinging to the structure of it.
Steps. A plan. Something solid.
“And the guy?” she adds carefully.
You let out a long breath. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Well,” she says, grabbing her phone, “you remember the bar, right? We can work backward. Social media, receipts—something.”
For the first time since this all started, the panic loosens its grip—just a little.
Not gone.
But manageable.
You nod again, more firmly this time. “Okay. One step at a time.”
Audrey smirks. “Exactly. And hey—worst case scenario?”
You glance at her.
“That kid is gonna have the coolest aunt ever.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s a faint, reluctant smile tugging at your lips.
And somehow… you don’t feel like you’re falling apart quite as much anymore.
_
You stare at the screen, your breath catching in your throat.
There he is.
For a moment, everything else fades—the quiet hum of the kitchen, the faint ticking of the clock, even Audrey shifting beside you. All you can see is him.
Audrey actually found him.
A mix of relief and nerves twists in your chest, tight and overwhelming.
“You’re sure that’s him?” Audrey asks, leaning over your shoulder, her voice quieter now—more careful.
You nod slowly, though hesitation lingers in the movement. “Yeah… that’s him.”
Your eyes trace over his face on the screen, landing on his eyes.
Blue.
You remember them instantly.
The way they held you that night. The way they seemed to see right through you while he hovered above you, like nothing else in the world existed. You remember how easy it was to get lost in them.
Your stomach flips.
“And now what?” Audrey presses.
You let out a shaky breath, dragging a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. I can’t just message him like, ‘Hey, remember that one night five weeks ago? Yeah… you got me pregnant.’”
The words sound ridiculous out loud—but the reality of them presses down on you all the same.
Your fingers hover over the trackpad, uncertain. Frozen.
“What am I supposed to say?” you whisper, more to yourself than to her.
Audrey crosses her arms, thinking. “Well… it says he works at the 21st district. Maybe you go there? Talk to him in person?”
Your stomach drops at the idea.
Go there. Actually face him.
You close the laptop abruptly, like shutting it might quiet your thoughts. It doesn’t.
You press your hands over your face, exhaling hard. Frustration builds, sharp and suffocating.
“How did I let this happen?” you murmur.
The question hangs in the air, heavier than you expect.
A thought slips in—quiet, tempting.
“Maybe I don’t tell him,” you say slowly, lowering your hands. “Maybe I just… do this on my own.”
Audrey is quiet for a second.
Then, gently but firmly, “You know telling him is the right thing to do.”
You groan, dragging your hands down your face again, exhaustion creeping in.
“I know,” you admit. “I know.”
But knowing doesn’t make it any easier.
Your gaze drifts back to the closed laptop, like you can still see him through it.
And suddenly, this all feels very real again.
_
The drive there feels longer than it should.
Your fingers grip the steering wheel tighter than necessary, your thoughts looping endlessly.
You replay that night over and over again.
The music. The drinks. The way everything felt easy—effortless. Like nothing could go wrong.
You remember laughing.
God, you remember laughing.
Now it feels like a completely different life.
Your stomach twists as you pull up outside the building, your eyes lingering on it longer than necessary.
This is it.
There’s no turning back after this.
You could leave.
Right now.
You could just drive away, pretend you never found him, pretend none of this is happening.
Your hand tightens on the door handle.
Then you exhale.
“No,” you murmur.
You open the door and step out.
_
You climb the steps of the 21st District, tugging nervously at the sleeves of your shirt.
Your heart is pounding.
What if he doesn’t believe me?
What if he doesn’t want this?
The thoughts spiral, loud and relentless, but you force yourself to keep moving. If you stop now, you won’t come back.
You push the door open and step inside, your eyes scanning the room.
It’s busy—officers moving around, voices overlapping—but your attention lands on the woman behind the front desk. She’s in the middle of absolutely tearing into a couple of officers, her tone sharp enough to make you wince.
You’re too anxious to find it funny, even when the officers walk away looking completely defeated, shoulders slumped as they mutter under their breath.
“Hey, how can I help you?” the woman calls, her attention snapping to you.
You hesitate, then walk up to the desk, your stomach twisting.
“I’m looking for Detective Jay Halstead,” you say quietly, your eyes fixed on the surface in front of you. For some reason, meeting her gaze feels impossible.
She doesn’t miss a beat.
“Hank!” she calls out loudly. “This girl’s looking for Halstead!”
You glance over your shoulder as a man approaches, stopping beside you. He looks at you with a small, curious smile.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
You tell him, your voice softer than you intended.
“I’ll go get him.”
And just like that, you’re left waiting.
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, your hands fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve.
Your eyes wander around the room, taking in everything—officers moving quickly, phones ringing, conversations you can’t quite make out.
It’s loud.
Busy.
Normal.
And yet you feel completely out of place.
Like you don’t belong here.
Like everyone else has a purpose—and you’re just… standing here, about to flip your entire life upside down.
You glance toward the steps he disappeared to, your stomach tightening.
What if he walks out and doesn’t even remember you?
The thought hits harder than you expect.
You swallow, pushing it down.
He’ll remember.
He has to.
The minutes stretch, each one heavier than the last.
Then—
Boots.
The sound pulls your attention instantly.
Your breath catches as you turn.
“Hey,” he says, a quiet sigh following the word.
And there he is.
For a moment, everything else fades again.
Those eyes—just as blue as you remember. The sharp line of his jaw, the faint stubble along it. He looks exactly the same.
Still… unfairly gorgeous.
Your chest tightens.
“Can we talk in private?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can overthink them.
He studies you for a second, then nods. “Yeah.”
His hand gently takes yours, guiding you toward a nearby room. The touch is brief, but you feel it—rough, warm, grounding in a way that only makes your nerves worse.
He shuts the door behind you.
Silence.
“So… what’s up?”
His voice pulls you back, steady and unaware.
You look at him, really look at him, trying to find the right words—the right way to say something that will change everything.
But there is no right way.
So you just say it.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and impossible to take back.
He stares at you.
Once. Twice. Like he’s trying to process what you just said.
Like he’s not sure he heard you right.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” you ask, your voice tighter now, nerves creeping in.
His throat bobs as he swallows, still looking at you like the ground just shifted beneath his feet.
He runs a hand over the back of his neck, pacing once like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
“…Pregnant,” he repeats under his breath.
You cross your arms, suddenly feeling exposed under his stare. “Yeah. That’s usually how that works.”
His eyes snap back to yours. “Okay—okay, I just—” he exhales sharply. “I wasn’t expecting you to walk in here and say that.”
“Trust me,” you mutter, “neither was I.”
Silence stretches again, heavier this time.
Then, more carefully, he asks, “How far along?”
“Five weeks.”
He nods slowly, doing the math whether he means to or not. His jaw tightens slightly.
“And… you’re sure it’s mine?”
The question hits harder than you expect.
Your expression hardens instantly. “Wow.”
“That’s not—” he starts quickly, shaking his head. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I just—I need to understand what’s going on.”
You let out a breath, anger and nerves tangling together. “It’s yours.”
Another pause.
Then he nods again, more firmly this time.
“Okay.”
That one word shifts something.
You frown slightly. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, meeting your eyes. “Okay. Then we figure it out.”
There’s a pause.
Silence settles between you, thick and almost suffocating as you look up at him, his words still echoing in your head.
We’ll figure it out.
You nod slowly, your lips parting as you try to find something—anything—to say.
But before you can, his phone rings.
The sharp sound cuts straight through the moment.
Then the door swings open, and a blonde-haired man leans in, his presence abrupt and urgent.
“Daren Riley was spotted near Sharp Street,” he says quickly, his eyes flicking between the two of you before settling on Jay.
The shift is instant.
You watch it happen—the way Jay’s posture straightens, the way his expression hardens into something focused, professional. Like whatever just passed between you gets tucked away in a box for later.
Your eyes move between them, the reality of his world crashing into yours.
Jay nods once. “Got it.”
The man lingers for half a second longer, curiosity still lingering in his gaze, then disappears just as quickly as he came.
Jay looks back at you.
“I have to get back to work,” he says, already reaching for his wallet.
Something in your chest tightens, but you nod anyway.
“Here,” he adds, pulling out a card and handing it to you. “Call me tonight.”
You take it, your fingers brushing his briefly. His name stares back at you in clean print, a phone number sitting just beneath it.
Something real. Something solid.
You inhale slowly, grounding yourself. “Okay.”
He starts toward the door, urgency pulling him away, but just before he leaves, he stops.
Turns back.
For a second, it’s not Detective Halstead standing there.
It’s him.
“I’m not going to let you do this alone,” he says, his voice steady, certain.
And then he’s gone.
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving you standing there, his card still clutched tightly in your hand… and your life feeling like it just split into two completely different paths.
The silence that follows is deafening.
You don’t move at first.
You just stand there, staring at the door like he might walk back through it.
Like maybe this didn’t just happen.
Your fingers tighten around the card in your hand, the edges pressing into your skin.
I’m not going to let you do this alone.
The words echo in your mind.
You want to believe him.
You really do.
But a part of you hesitates.
Because words are easy.
Life isn’t.
You look down at the card again, tracing over his name with your thumb.
Jay Halstead.
A stranger.
And somehow… not a stranger at all.
A small, shaky breath leaves you as reality settles in again.
series summary: you are wild and just what he needs
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: Smut, Daddy Kink, Vulgar Language, Curse Words, minors DNI….Hot Jay Halstead is a warning in itself
A/N: This is my first try at smut so don’t come for me and don’t judge to harshly. Also I always imagine the reader as myself so if theres any mention of skin color, body figure, or anything of the sort I do apologize. ;)
series summary: you are wild and just what he needs
chapter summary: You meet a certain blue eyed dectective, and somehow you end up at his place
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: little pieces of smut, underage drinker, curse words, vulgar language, minors DNI
word count: 2k
A/N: This has been edited but if there are any mistakes I do aplogize, google docs is to blame! <3
~
The club was absolutely crazy like any other Friday night. There were a bunch of teenagers with fake IDs trying to get past the bouncers. You only smirked as you looked down at your own. You are just at the edge of 21 at 20 but still, not many people cared really. You take your seat at the bar, crossing one leg over the other and calling over the cute bartender that always tended to you when you came.
“The usual, miss?”
“Yes please, Tyler.”
You felt his eyes on you as soon as you walked inside, like they were drawn to you. You were used to the attention. Not to be cocky, but you always dressed to impress, and impress you did. Tonight you wore a slim silky red dress, it stopped just below your thighs, hugging your curves in all the right places, enhancing your figure to its full potential. You matched the dress with a pair of black strap heels, and finishing it was a black clutch.
Jay wasn’t sure what pulled him in, maybe it was the dress, maybe it was how you simply rolled your eyes at the advances of multiple men as soon as you walked into the club. Then again, the way you held yourself with confidence and certainty made him approach you. He should’ve known better. He was here to get information not flirt with an attractive girl. Yet here he was walking right up to you.
“I think I’m gonna need to see some ID?” The voice startled you as it boomed louder than the music. The shock was short lived as you twirled around only to face him. His badge hanging around his neck and a smirk on his face.
“Whatcha gonna do if I refuse, officer? Arrest me?” You asked, mirroring his smirk. He chuckled at your response with a nod. He was handsome. His brown hair and blue eyes capturing you instantly. Just your type, of course. You knew in the moment you’d be in his bed by the end of the night.
“I might.”
“If I try to escape, would you toss me around a little? Because if I knew you’d be that much fun I’ll start running now.”
“You are wild, woman.” Jay laughed. You giggled like a schoolgirl, placing your hands on his hard chest.
“Only a little.”
You were always a flirt, especially for very attractive men with blue eyes and brown hair. But there was something about him that drew you in a little more than the others. Maybe it was the badge or maybe it was the way he had that “I’m in control” vibe that had your knees weak and heart beating a mile a minute. You were loving it.
He fell into the seat next to you and ordered a drink for himself and you as well. You started to protest, but he was quick to shake his head with a laugh.
“At least let me buy you a drink.” He grinned. You sighed defeatedly but nodded. You couldn’t help but smile though. This wasn’t your first time letting a guy buy you a drink, but somehow it was different.
You got past the introductions easily, falling into a simple conversation that had you sitting there talking instead of craving a dance that you initially came to this club for.
He was so gorgeous, and a gentleman too. He wasn’t trying to get you drunk, or insisting on bringing you home. He was polite, kind, and even helped a woman call an Uber so she could get home. It all made a tingling feeling burst in your stomach. His actions only set in stone the plan you already had made the moment you saw him. There was no way this night could end with him over you.
Despite the loud music and the woman that had throwing themselves at Jay trying to claim his attention, his eyes never strayed, and the flirting never stopped, it seemed to pick up as the night went on. You had your hand placed on his bicep giggling as he told you a story of him and his friend Mouse.
“I think I’d like to meet this friend. He seems interesting.”
“I’m also interesting,” he declared, the grin never leaving his face. You purse your lips, swirling your cocktail in your glass.
“Well I don’t know if I want interesting tonight, but I do want a bed and a man.” You looked back at him, lust swirling in your irises, nearly identical to his own.
“I’m great at multitasking. Let me make a phone call and then if your down, we can-“
“I’ll give you ten minutes, Detective. It takes a lot to keep my attention, remember that.”
With a smirk and a nod, he walked away, pulling his phone from his pocket. You bit your lip before calling over the bartender and ordering another shot. You drowned it and slammed a twenty dollar bill on the counter. You take your coat and wrap it around your shoulders.
You were going home with a stranger, a hot stranger no less. It isn’t the first time, you took the proper cautions and texted your friend, being sure to turn on your Find My IPhone, so your friend could find you if you didn’t come home the next day. You also made sure to give her his name and she was quick to mention how she in fact knew him from her boyfriend. She assured you he was a good man, and you’d be okay with him.
You found yourself smiling down at your phone, a sigh leaving your lips and your shoulder sagging slightly. He seemed like an amazing guy, but you weren’t looking for commitment, you only hoped he understood that.
It wasn’t even five minutes later was his arms wrapped around your shoulders as he led you outside the club and towards his truck.
There was little talk here and there as you were waiting impatiently to finally get to where he was going. What you guessed was his truck came into view, you excitedly gripped his hand as he dragged you forward.
He unlocked it, opening the door and letting you slide in properly before he grabbed the seatbelt, reaching over to clasp it in. You took in a breath as his hand grazed over your center, laying your head back.
“If you feel uncomfortable at any time, tell me and I’ll take you home. Okay?”
You nodded quickly, really just wanting to jump his bones right now as he stared up at you with those innocent blue eyes. He was such a gentleman. You hoped he could be a little more rough in bed, because rough is what you liked.
“Say you understand,” he commands, taking a hold of your knee and squeezing it. You gulp, shivers rolling down your spine like a bucket of cold water had been poured down your back.
“I understand.”
He nods, shutting the door and rushing to the other side where he climbed in and started the truck.
You had to admit, he looked hot sitting in his truck, he looked hot period, but it was magnified as you stared at him. His hand rested on the steering wheel and the other resting on the console, his eyes shifting to you ever so often. It was like his hand was itching to touch you. Biting your lip you grab his hand, the roughness of his finger tips coming into contact with the smoothness of your thigh as you set it there. You ignore the look he gives you, smirking as you look out the window at the city lights passing.
The feeling of his hand running up and down your thigh made goosebumps rise to your skin. You shift your eyes to Jay, readjusting in your seat. He glanced at you for a split second, finding the beauty that is you. God, he couldn’t wait to have you in his bed.
You bit your lip, grabbing hold of his hand and moving it closer and closer to your center.
“You better stop, kitten, before I pull over.” He gave you a sarcastic smile, squeezing your panty clad mound tightly. Your hips bucked, a moan escaping your lips. He found himself loving the sound and wanting to hear it more. Your hand gripped his tightly, keeping it right where it was. Your head rolled to the side, looking at him with a giggle.
“Maybe you should. I really need you inside me or maybe your head between my thighs.”
“Yeah? You look pathetic. Rubbing up against my hand.” You whined at his words, licking your lips. He gave you another squeeze. Excitement bubbled in your stomach.
Jay’s pants tightened as you spread your legs even more, slipping down slightly in the seat so he could continue rubbing the palm of his hand against your aching heat. You eagerly lifted your hips, craving more pressure on your special spot.
“Why don’t you just pull over and take me in the backseat of your truck. Or I could just climb in your lap and give you the best ride of your life.”
“I bet you're all talk, kitten.”
“I’m gonna blow your mind, Halstead,” you smirk.
“I’m betting on it.” He mirrored your smirk, pressing his middle finger into you through your lace red panties. You moan, undoing your seat belt quickly and holding his hand where it was, head rolling to the side. He curses at your wetness and eagerness for him to touch you.
“We’re almost there, be patient.”
“Tell your mini me to be patient, honey.” You pushed his hand from your soaked center. He bit his lip, glancing down at his pants and he was indeed a little excited.
He groaned under his breath. The strain in his pants couldn’t possibly get worse, but by the looks of you, slightly disheveled and flustered. You were chewing on your lip, watching the city pass by. All this time you’ve spent in Chicago and you’ve never gotten used to how pretty the lit up city was. Jay set his eyes back on the road, smiling to himself. Although the lights were indeed eye-catching, there’s nothing that could compare to your beauty.
There was little conversation here and there before he was pulling into his driveway. You both scrambled out of the truck, his hand guiding you towards the front door, where he unlocked and opened it so he could push you inside.
You were slammed against the door as it closed behind him, his body pressed against your own, earning a desperate whine from your throat. Your breathing quickened, knees weak and mind going a mile a minute as his hands run over your body, gripping at whatever his hands could grab onto.
“You're such a pretty little thing.”
“This pretty little thing is gonna call an Uber if you don’t take her to your bedroom,” you comment, smiling sarcastically at him. He chuckles, his head turning away from you before coming back to look you in the eye. His eyes seem to darken, his hand finding your throat, squeezing just enough to add pressure but not enough for you to be unable to breathe.
“I don’t think you realize who’s in charge here, kitten.”
The feeling of his hand wrapped around your throat caused a whole new feeling to erupt in your body. The excitement you had before was nothing compared to this. And his words confirmed just how rough he was, you prayed he wasn’t all bark and no bite.
“Then show me.”
And show you he would.
~
A/N: Eeeeek! I’m so happy I had the motivation to finish editing this chapter. I added a good bit and I have a whole plan for how this book will turn out. It pretty much end up the same but it’ll be focused on you - the reader - a little more. Also I lost my taglist so
series summary: you are wild and just what he needs
chapter summary: Jays look at almost getting caught in the backseat of his truck
pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader
warning: smut, unprotected sex (make him wrap it before he taps it, ladies), slight mention of oral sex, curse words, minors DNI
word count: 1.4k
A/N: This was recommended and I thought why the hell not It’s partially edited but I don’t look through it very well so don’t be to harsh on me this is for @operation-spot
-
“God, we’re gonna get caught,” I groaned, leaning my head back while the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen trails open mouthed kissed from my jaw to my neck. She sucked at my skin, biting softly before soothing it with a flick of her tongue. I bit my lip, tightening my grip on her waist.
“Wouldn’t that be fun.”
She shifted in my lap, moving her precious center against my hardened member. I couldn’t help but moan lightly.
I’ll admit, I’ve had sex in some odd places before, but never in the parking lot of my work…where I could get caught. I’m sure she was having the time of her life from the look on her face. Who was I to ruin her fun?
“I’d probably get bitched at.”
“But at least you’d be satisfied.”
I didn’t reply, just smirked at her before moving up and pulling her head towards mine, capturing her lips. She moaned against my mouth, a light giggle escaping her lips.
“You're so pretty,” I mutter, pulling away. She grins, looking down. I move my hands from her waist to thighs, sliding them towards her skirt that’s resting over her ass. I bunch it at her waist. Once I’m finished, I unbuckle my belt, unbutton my jeans and let her do the rest, and before I know it she’s bouncing on top of me, giving me the absolute best show I’ve ever had.
“So good, baby,” I whisper, placing my mouth over one of her breasts. She mewled, throwing her head back. I knew she was attempting to be quiet. She’s never been good at that. She loved the thought of getting caught. I couldn’t help but think just how wild she was. I love every second I have with her.
Her nails dug into my arms, no doubt as an attempt to keep herself quiet from the pleasure she was receiving. Her body shook against mine as I attacked her other breast, hand gripping her from falling back as she arched against me.
“Fuck,” I whisper, hands now wondering south to cup her ass, helping her move just the way I liked. Her nails dug deeper into my skin, a silent indicator that her release was coming closer and closer.
“Yes,” she whimpered, head still thrown back, eyes closed, and body shaking. She was almost there and I knew it. A couple more thrust and she’d be spilling all over me. I chased her release, mine drawing closer and closer.
“I thought he went to lunch?”
The sound of a voice haltered each other’s movements. I pulled away, my eyes widening, matching her own. She suppressed a giggle and I narrowed my eyes in confusion. What’s she up to? She simply leaned against my chest, tightened her legs against my hips, rolling hers into me. I groaned, clenching my jaw.
“Maybe he went with that girl he was talking about.”
Shut up, Adam!
I can’t put into words how she felt against me. Her skin against mine, her body positioned so perfectly, molded against my own was so incredibly beautiful and amazing that it had me star struck. I didn’t care that we were in the back seat of my truck, with my two best friends/coworkers lingering outside the truck having a total conversation while the girl of my dreams slid herself down on me.
Every fiber in my body lit on fire from her touch. Hell, the way she looks at me sends me into shock. There’s just something about her, I can’t explain it. I needed her to be mine, and I wanted to be hers.
I know we agreed that there were no strings attached, but when has that ever worked out?
“He didn’t even invite us to lunch.”
She placed a hand over her mouth before stuffing her face into the crook of my neck. I already know what she’s about to do; I shake my head. She slides up and then back down, drawing a short groan from the back of my throat.
I was close, and by the way she’s clenching down on me, I know she’s close too. I grip a little harder on her waist. There’s no way they aren’t hearing us, absolutely no way. I didn’t care at this point, all I wanted was to have the perfect girl on top of me come.
“Are you gonna cry about it?”
She bounced up again, making me throw my head back in pure bliss. Her movements were fast, her hands gripping at my shoulders as she took in a breath. She kissed me, rolling her hips one more time causing me to spill inside her. I hid the moan of her name with a bite of my lip, praying to God her continuous bouncing wouldn’t draw it from me.
“Maybe.”
It wasn’t a minute later she was spilling around my cock making me cover her mouth to hide any of the sounds she made. Her eyes rolled back, body trembling as I laid her against my chest. I took in a breath, holding her tight so she wouldn’t move.
“I hope he at least brings me something. I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving.”
As the voices disappeared, I allowed her to move. She slid off my lap and onto the seat next to me, sighing in satisfaction.
“You're crazy,” I tell her, trying to catch my breath. She giggled and placed a kiss on my cheek before she began looking around the truck. She picks them up from the head rest but I snatch them and stuff them in the pocket of my jeans. I need something to remember this special moment of us almost getting caught.
“Put that thing back in your pants before I put it in my mouth,” She smirked, tugging her skirt down and throwing on her blouse. With a grunt, I stuff myself into my boxers, zipping and buttoning my pants before buckling my belt.
“We should do that again sometime.” I watch her slip on her heels, pushing her hair from her shoulders so that it fell down her back. I scoffed. There’s no way in hell we can do that again.
“And actually get caught? No.” I shake my head. She giggled and pushed herself against me, kissing me. She bites my lip, pulling at it as she pulls away. I moan, gripping her once again.
“Got any plans tonight?”
She pulls from my grip and takes a look out the window.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
She opens the door and climbs out, I follow behind her, giving her ass a tap. I close the truck door, straightening my shirt before leaning against it. I fold my arms over my chest, watching her turn around to face me while straightening her own clothing. I reach a hand out, pulling her into me.
“Don’t play with me, baby. Be at mine at 7. I’ll even make you dinner.”
“Oh? Dinner and then dessert. Or can I have dessert before dinner?”
“You can have it before and after, kitten,” I smirk. She bites her lip, her hand coming down to rub me through my jeans. I groan, laying my head against my truck, eyes scanning the parking lot, finding it empty. I wondered if I’d get caught taking her against the truck. Better not. I’ll wait, not that I want to. I’ll be thinking about her the rest of my shift. What else is new? It seems she never strays too far from my mind.
I snatch her wrist up, placing it on my chest.
“You coming tonight or what?”
“I sure hope so,” She teased, before licking a strip up my neck. I shivered. Pulling back, she says, “I’ll be there at 6:30 so that I can have dessert first.”
She pulls away from me, turns and begins walking to her car, putting a sway in her hips, knowing what it’ll do to me. I could practically see the smirk on her lips.
My eyes never left her until she climbed into her car and pulled away.
I curse under my breath, running a hand through my hair before turning and walking back into the district.
There’s just something about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it always had him coming back for more. Maybe it was because she was younger, wilder. Maybe it was because you made him do things he never thought he’d do, and he loved that.
