#erin lindsay

[sculien]

CHICAGO PD 1.01

[crimeshowsource]

CHICAGO P.D. (2014-) S01E01 - Stepping Stone

[acecroft]

CHICAGO P.D. 1.13

[husheddrafts]

Professional Boundaries

pairing: Jay Halstead x Female Reader

requested: Yes!

warnings: minor jealousy/insecurity, protective Jay, workplace flirtation, healthy communication, family fluff, emotional reassurance, boundaries

summary: When an uncomfortable situation at work leaves Jay's wife quietly questioning herself, Jay reminds her and everyone else that there has never been anyone else he'd rather come home to after shift.

The familiar buzz of the Intelligence Unit filled the bullpen.

Phones rang.

Mouse clicked.

Voight barked something from his office that nobody could quite make out.

Jay leaned against Erin's desk, discussing a witness statement when the elevator dinged.

"Daddy!"

The tiny voice cut through every conversation.

Jay's entire face changed.

"There they are."

His two-year-old daughter took off in a determined little sprint, curls bouncing as she crashed into his legs.

"There she is," Jay laughed, scooping her up effortlessly. "There's my favorite girl."

Jay smiled immediately before he leaned over to kiss her.

"Hi."

"Hi.", Jay rerturned

The kiss wasn't rushed.

It wasn't for show.

It was simply the way they greeted each other every time they reunited.

His daughter cupped his cheeks.

"Daddy, Mommy says we're bringing you lunch."

"Did she now?"

She nodded dramatically.

"Mac and cheese."

Jay gasped.

"My favorite."

As everyone greeted them, Jay's wife smiled politely.

She'd met everyone dozens of times.

Voight.

Kim.

Adam.

Kevin.

Even Erin.

"Hey," Erin smiled.

"It's good to see you, Y/N."

"You too."

The conversation stayed light, but throughout lunch...

She noticed it.

Nothing obvious, nothing that should have bothered her.

Just...Erin always seemed to find a reason to stand close to Jay; her hand rested briefly on his shoulder while showing him something on a case file, she laughed a little longer than everyone else at one of his jokes, when Jay stepped away for a second, Erin followed without thinking.

Tiny moments, harmless...maybe.

But enough that they slowly settled into the back of her mind.

She hated herself for noticing, because she trusted Jay, completely. She just didn't understand why it kept happening.

Over the next few weeks...

It happened again:

At Molly's after a case, on scene, back at the district and it was always small things.

Nothing that Jay encouraged. Nothing he even seemed to notice, but she did.

She'd smile through it every time, never bringing it up, never wanting to be the jealous wife.

One afternoon she stopped by the district again with their daughter.

Jay was wrapping up paperwork.

His daughter immediately climbed into his lap while coloring on an old report with crayons he'd somehow found.

His wife stood nearby smiling then Erin walked over,

"Hey, Halstead."

She leaned against his desk.

"You still owe me a beer after today."

Jay looked up.

"We all grabbed drinks after the case."

"Yeah, but I meant just us."

Y/N’s smile faltered for only half a second, so small no one else would've caught it.

Jay did, immediately.

He looked from Erin to Y/N and then back to Erin.

His expression became serious.

"Actually..." his tone was calm, professional.

"I don't think that's appropriate."

Erin blinked.

"What?"

"I'm married."

He rested one hand on his daughter's tiny back while reaching for Y/N’s hand with the other.

"Y/N and my kids are my priority."

The bullpen had gone almost silent.

Jay continued without raising his voice.

"I've noticed some things lately. You’ve been standing a little too close... asking to spend time alone... touching my arm..." He shook his head slightly. "Maybe you don't mean anything by it but, it's making my wife uncomfortable."

Y/N immediately squeezed his hand.

"Jay..."

He looked at her softly.

"No."

Then back to Erin.

"I love working with you and I respect you but, we're partners. That's it. I need you to keep things professional."

The silence somehow became even louder.

Erin's cheeks flushed.

"I... I didn't realize..."

"I know."

Jay nodded, "I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm just setting a boundary because my marriage comes first. Every time.”

A few minutes later...

Jay led Y/N and their daughter into one of the empty interview rooms.

Y/N finally looked at him.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I did."

He closed the door behind them then wrapped both arms around her.

"I saw your face. I know you and you were trying so hard to pretend it didn't bother you."

Y/N looked down.

"I didn't want to seem insecure."

"You aren't."

He gently lifted her chin.

"You're carrying our second baby. You’re raising our daughter. You’re my wife. If something or someone makes you feel uncomfortable...I want to know."

Her eyes filled.

"I trust you."

"I know."

He kissed her forehead.

"And I'm never going to give you a reason not to."

His daughter looked up from the coloring book she'd stolen from Jay's desk.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"You made Mommy happy."

Jay smiled, "I hope so."

Y/N laughed softly through the tears.

"You definitely did."

He kissed her again, lingering this time.

"I chose you the day we got married. I choose you every single day after and in case it wasn't already obvious..."

He rested his hand against her small baby bump.

"...I've got everything I'll ever need right here."

Y/N leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek.

"You know," Y/N whispered, "I was never really worried about you."

Jay smiled against her hair.

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you never had to wonder where my heart is."

She looked up.

"I've never wondered."

"Good."

He kissed her one more time before opening the interview room door.

"Now..."

He grinned.

"Who wants to help me arrest some bad guys after I finish this paperwork?"

Their daughter threw both hands in the air.

"ME!"

Jay laughed, "There she is."

Y/N watched the two of them walk back into the bullpen together, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks.

Not because she needed Jay to defend his love.

She'd never doubted it but because he'd seen the hurt she hadn't spoken out loud and loved her enough to protect her from it anyway.

[andgry4]

He is the father figure

[ixcgm]

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐁𝐚𝐝 - 𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝🌶️

Main Masterlist

Chicago, Illinois | 2015

The morning light in Athena’s apartment didn't just illuminate the room; it hit every surface like a spotlight on a stage. She was halfway through fastening a pearl earring when the knock came—three precise raps.

She checked her reflection. Her hair was a sleek, dark silk; her makeup was an impenetrable mask of competence. She lived by a simple rule: If the exterior is perfect, the interior can't shatter.

When she opened the door, she found a man and a woman. Their badges caught the light before their faces did.

"Ms. Kersey? Detectives Halstead and Lindsay, CPD," the man said. His voice was steady, but his eyes—a piercing blue—lingered on her for a fraction of a second too long, cataloging the stillness of her hands. "Can we come in?"

"Yes. Please," Athena said, stepping back.

As they entered, Jay’s eyes scanned the living room. It was like a museum. The distance between the velvet armchairs was exactly eighteen inches. The scent of Meyer lemon and expensive wax hung in the air. It was a fortress of order.

"Ms. Kersey," Jay began, his tone dropping into that gentle, 'bad news' register. "We’re here to speak with you regarding your husband."

Athena didn't blink. She didn't even flinch. "I don't have a husband, Detective."

Erin Lindsay shifted, her leather jacket creaking in the silence. "The records show a marriage license was filed—"

"The records are a week behind reality," Athena interrupted, her voice flat and cool. "My ex-fiancé took everything he felt he was owed when he left. Including my sister."

Jay’s brows knit together. "Your sister?"

"Two weeks ago," Athena said, crossing her arms—a perfect, symmetrical fold. "In front of two hundred guests, a five-tier cake, and a string quartet. Marcus took Cami’s hand and walked out of the cathedral like it was the final scene of a movie. So, no. Not my husband. Just a thief."

The silence that followed was heavy. Jay looked at the spotless room and then back at the woman who looked like she was made of marble.

"Ms. Kersey..." Erin said softly, her investigator’s mask slipping into genuine pity. "We’re here because both of them were found dead this morning."

Athena stared at her. The world didn't tilt; it simply went silent. "No. That’s a poor attempt at a joke."

"It isn't," Jay replied. The weight in his voice made the air in the room feel thick. He took a half-step toward her, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out but didn't want to disturb her "Order."

Athena’s grip tightened on her handbag. "You’re lying. This is some... some sick stunt they're pulling."

"We wish we were," Lindsay said. "They were found in an apartment on the South Side. A residential hotel."

"Of course they were," Athena murmured, the bitterness finally cracking the porcelain of her voice. "Cami always did have a flair for the dramatic. She’s spent her whole life stealing pieces of mine. My college, my social circle... I suppose my fiancé was just the 'deluxe upgrade' she’d been waiting for."

Lindsay studied her, searching for a flicker of grief, but all she found was a cold, shimmering resentment. "Did you know they were having an affair before the wedding?"

"I suspected," Athena said. "Cami never had a firm grasp on boundaries. Or morals. If it belonged to me, she wanted to see if it looked better on her."

"And Marcus?" Jay asked, his gaze fixed on Athena’s face.

"Marcus was weak," Athena replied. "He liked being told what to do. Cami is a professional at giving orders."

"Did you have any contact with either of them after the ceremony?" Erin asked, her notepad out now.

"No." Athena’s chin lifted. "I blocked their numbers. I had the locks changed. I deleted the 'sequence' they were part of. I was done."

Jay glanced around the spotless living room again. He saw a woman who had scrubbed her life clean of the filth they had left behind.

"They ruined my life in a single afternoon," Athena whispered, her eyes finally meeting Jay's. "And now you’re telling me the mess is... permanent?"

"We're sorry for your loss, Athena," Lindsay said, though she wasn't sure 'loss' was the right word.

Athena let out a breath. It wasn't a sob. It was the sound of a structural beam settling under a heavy load. It was relief.

"Who would kill them?" she asked, her voice returning to its clinical precision.

Jay didn't look away. He felt a strange, magnetic pull toward the woman standing in the center of her perfect, lonely kingdom. "That's exactly what we need your help to figure out," he said. "We're going to find out who did this. I promise you."

A few days went by, the case was going nowhere, the only person with motive was Athena Kersey, so they decided to bring her in for questioning.

The interrogation room was a sterile, unforgiving white. The fluorescent lights hummed with a low, irritating frequency that would have broken most people, but Athena Kersey sat in the center of it like a statue in a gallery.

Her hands were folded neatly on the metal table, her legs crossed at the ankles. Her posture was a masterclass in defiance. If anyone looked through the one-way glass, they wouldn't see a grieving woman or a panicked suspect; they’d see Control.

The heavy door clicked open. Jay Halstead stepped in, a thick case file tucked under his arm. He didn't look like the man who had been gentle on her porch; his face was a mask of professional neutrality.

"Ms. Kersey," Jay said, pulling out the metal chair. The screech of the legs against the floor was the only "disorder" in the room. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"You aren't," Athena replied, her voice smooth and unaffected by the four hours she’d spent in silence. "You’re just calibrating. You’re waiting to see if the woman from the 'Vogue' apartment fits the blood on that South Side floor."

Jay paused, his hand hovering over the file. "I’m trying to find what makes sense, Athena."

He sat across from her and slid a single document across the table. "Did you know Marcus took out a life insurance policy six months ago?"

"No," she said. Her eyes didn't even drop to the paper.

"It’s a three-million-dollar payout," Jay said, his voice dropping an octave. "Sole beneficiary: Athena Kersey."

A ghost of a smile touched her lips—not of joy, but of cold recognition. "He always did have high expectations for a future he wasn't prepared to work for."

"So now I’m the villain?" she asked, leaning back. The movement was fluid, practiced.

"Now you're a person with a motive," Jay countered quietly. "Humiliation. Public betrayal in front of two hundred people. Your sister stealing the life you planned. And a three-million-dollar 'parting gift' to help you start over. Most people would kill for less."

"Most people are messy, Detective," Athena said. "I built a marketing empire from nothing three years after graduation. I deal in 'Order.' Why would I burn my kingdom down for a payout I could earn in a fiscal quarter?"

"Did you threaten him after the wedding?" Jay leaned in, his blue eyes searching hers for a flicker, a tremor, anything.

"No."

"Did you go to see them?"

"No."

"Did you hire someone to... 'clean up' the mess they made?"

"No."

Jay watched her. She wasn't just calm; she was still. It was the kind of stillness you only find at the center of a storm.

"You’re remarkably composed for someone who just lost the only family she had left," he noted.

"They weren't my people anymore, Jay," she said, using his name for the first time. "They were just 'noise.' And I’ve always been very good at turning down the volume."

The door swung open with a violent thud. Hank Voight stood there, his presence turning the small room into a pressure cooker.

"Halstead. Outside. Now."

Jay frowned, his jaw tightening. "Hank, I’m in the middle of—"

"Now," Voight barked.

Reluctantly, Jay stood and followed Voight into the observation hallway. Voight shoved a thin, yellowed folder into Jay’s chest.

"Background just cleared the medical firewall," Voight muttered, his voice a low gravel. "Take a look."

Jay flipped it open. His heart did a slow, heavy roll in his chest. "You pulled her psych records from college?"

"She was evaluated after she put a classmate in the infirmary for 'rearranging' her dorm room," Voight said. "Read the summary, Jay. Antisocial traits. Predatory focus. Absolute lack of affective empathy. She’s a high-functioning sociopath. She doesn't feel the 'loss.' She just sees a problem that got solved."

Jay looked through the glass. Athena was still sitting there, staring at the wall as if she could see right through them.

"You're saying she’s a monster," Jay whispered.

"I’m saying she’s a grandmaster," Voight replied. "And right now, she’s playing you. Go back in there and break her. I want a confession, not a conversation."

Jay turned back toward the door, his hand on the knob. His heart was screaming that Voight was right, but his gut the part of him was already feeling a surge of protectiveness, didn't want to break her. He wanted to understand her.

Inside the room, Athena shifted her gaze to the camera. And for just a second—  heartbeat before Jay walked back in her smile changed.

The heavy door clicked shut behind Jay as he re-entered the room. The air was colder now, charged with the weight of the file he’d just read.

“You ready to talk now?” Jay asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

“I never stopped being ready, Jay,” she replied. She didn't look like the "predatory" profile in Voight's folder. She looked like a woman sitting in the wreckage of a life that had failed to meet her standards.

Jay dropped into the chair, the metal screeching like a warning. “You’re not telling us everything. The 'Order' you love so much? It has holes in it.”

Athena tilted her head, a stray lock of hair falling perfectly against her cheek. “That’s because you decided who I am before you even asked. You’re reading a script written by a doctor who saw me for forty minutes ten years ago.”

“I’m reading facts,” Jay pressed, leaning over the table until he was inches from her. “Where were you last night? Nine to midnight. The window of the hit.”

“At home.”

“Alone?”

“No.” She held his gaze, her dark eyes reflecting the harsh overhead lights. “With a friend.”

“Name.”

“Does it matter?”

“In a double murder? Yes, Athena. It matters.”

She hesitated—a calculated, fractional pause that made Jay’s pulse jump. “Maya. We were drinking wine. Ordering Thai food. Watching bad TV. Is that 'antisocial' enough for your report?”

Jay leaned even closer, his shadow falling over her. “You expect me to believe that while your ex-fiancé and your sister were being executed, you were casually eating pad thai?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Because my life didn't stop when they walked out on me. I didn't owe them my grief, and I certainly didn't owe them my evening.”

Jay’s eyes searched her face, looking for the "lack of empathy" Voight had promised. Instead, he found a hollowed-out kind of strength. “You don’t look like someone who’s been betrayed. You look like someone who already moved on.”

“Maybe I’m just good at surviving the mess other people make.”

The air between them thickened. It was no longer a detective and a suspect; it was two people caught in a vacuum.

“You’re not as cold as you pretend to be,” Jay said, his voice barely audible.

Athena’s breath hitched. The clinical mask she wore finally flickered. “Don’t,” she warned, her voice trembling.

“Don’t what?” he asked

“See me.”

But he already did. He saw the girl who had been told she was "broken" until she started believing it. He saw the "Sequence" she used as a shield.

“You’re angry,” Jay said, his hand twitching on the table. “You’re hurt. And you’re hiding it all behind this... this performance of perfection.”

Something snapped.

Athena stood abruptly, her chair clattering against the floor. She stepped into his space, forcing him to stand to meet her. “You think you know me? You think you can diagnose me from across a metal table?”

Before Jay could draw his next breath, she reached out, her fingers tangling in his collar, and pulled him down.

She kissed him.

It wasn't a plea; it was an invasion. It was impulsive, reckless, and tasted of salt and desperation. For half a second, Jay’s brain screamed 'Conflict of interest,' 'Voight,' 'Career.'

Then the other part of his brain took over.

He kissed her back. He didn't do it gently. He did it with the hunger of a man who had been searching for a reason to stop being "The Good Cop." For one terrible, electric moment, the 21st District vanished. There was only the heat of her skin and the terrifying realization that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

She pulled away first, her eyes wide—not with shame, but with the shock of someone who had just touched a live wire.

“That,” she whispered, her chest heaving, “was a mistake.”

Jay swallowed hard, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. “Athena—”

“I told you where I was,” she cut in, her clinical mask slamming back into place. “I didn't kill them. Check my phone. The takeout app. The security cameras in my lobby. Do your job, Detective.”

Voight stood frozen behind the glass, his face a mask of cold fury. Beside him, Erin Lindsay stared at the monitor, her mouth slightly agape.

“What the hell...” Erin muttered.

Voight’s jaw clenched so hard the bone looked ready to snap. “Halstead just crossed a line he can’t walk back from.”

Inside, Athena slowly sat back down, smoothing her skirt as if she hadn't just blown Jay’s world apart. She looked at the one-way mirror, her expression unreadable, but her eyes—they were sharp.

She had just found her new anchor. And Jay Halstead was already drifting into her orbit.

Voight didn't wait. He turned and reached for the door handle, his shadow looming over the glass.

Voight slammed the interrogation room door open.

“Halstead. Out. Now.”

Jay flinched. Athena stayed perfectly still, eyes tracking Voight like she was watching a predator enter the room.

Jay followed him into the hallway.

“What the hell was that?” Voight snapped. “You kissing a murder suspect now?”

“It wasn’t—”

“It was exactly what it looked like,” Voight cut in. “You compromised the case, Jay.”

“I didn’t,” Jay shot back. “She didn’t plan it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Voight growled. “You let it happen. You crossed the line.”

Across the room, Adam Ruzek came jogging up with a tablet. “Hey, Sarge, we just ran her alibi.”

Voight turned. “What?”

“Her building has cameras. She and another woman came in at 8:52 p.m. They never left. Food delivery at 9:14. Credit card matches her story. Phone GPS never moved.”

Jay’s head snapped up. “So she couldn’t have been there.”

“Nope,” Adam said. “She’s clean for the time of death.”

Voight exhaled sharply, slightly annoyed. “So she paid someone,” he muttered.

“Or she didn’t do it at all,” Jay said.

Voight rounded on him. “You don’t get to be objective anymore.”

Jay didn’t back down. “I am being objective. The evidence supports her.”

Voight stared at him. “You’re thinking with the wrong part of your body.”

Jay’s jaw clenched. “I’m thinking with the facts.”

Voight pointed at the interrogation room. “That woman is dangerous. Smart. Manipulative. And she knows exactly how to use what she’s got.”

“Or maybe she’s just a woman whose life got destroyed twice,” Jay said. “Once at the altar. Once in a morgue.”

For a moment, Voight just glared at him.

“Get out of my face before I suspend you,” Voight warned.

Jay held his ground.

“You don’t get to decide she’s guilty just because you don’t like her.”

Voight finally turned away, furious.

“Ruzek,” he barked, “keep digging. I want every person those two knew. Somebody wanted them dead. Kick Miss Kersey for now”

Adam nodded. “Already on it.”

Jay looked back through the glass at Athena.

She was watching him.

And somehow, despite everything, she smiled — soft this time. Not sharp.

Not dangerous.

Just… human.

Athena was released just before dusk.

No charges. No cuffs. Just a quiet walk out of the station with her coat over her arm and the weight of everything sitting heavy in her chest. Reporters were already gathering outside, voices rising, cameras flashing.

Jay intercepted her before she reached the doors.

“Hey,” he said gently. “You don’t have to go out there alone.”

She looked up at him. Tired. Guarded. Real.

“Story of my life.”

He walked her out anyway, shielding her from the worst of it, he gave her a ride home. She didn’t say much on the ride home — just stared out the window like the city was a blur she didn’t quite belong to anymore.

That night, a knock came at her door.

She knew who it was before she opened it.

Jay stood there, jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes softer than they ever were in the interrogation room.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he admitted.

“But you are,” she said.

He nodded. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Athena stepped aside to let him in. The apartment was quiet, dimly lit, still immaculate — but now it felt lonely instead of controlled.

“I keep waiting for it to hit me,” she said quietly. “That they’re gone. That it’s finally over.”

“And?”

“It just feels… empty.”

Jay took a step closer. “You don’t have to be alone with it.”

She looked at him, really looked at him, and for once there was no armor.

“You already got in trouble because of me.”

“Worth it,” he said without thinking.

The words surprised both of them.

Jay hesitated only a second before closing the distance. He cupped her face gently, like he was afraid she’d vanish, and kissed her.

This time it wasn’t reckless.

It was slow. Careful. Like he was asking instead of taking.

Athena’s breath caught — then she kissed him back, hands curling into his jacket.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together.

“This is a bad idea,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Jay murmured. “But right now, I don’t care.”

Neither did she.

Jay kissed her again, his hunger overriding the caution that usually defined him as a detective. His hands found the zipper of her dress, the metal teeth rasping in the quiet room as he pulled it down slowly, revealing the porcelain skin of her back. He only felt the silk of her dress pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but black lace. She moved with a dancer’s fluid grace, stripping him of his jacket and shirt, leaving a trail of discarded layers that led toward the kitchen.

He hoisted her onto the counter, but the heat between them demanded something more visceral, more grounded. Jay turned her, his movements possessing a raw, territorial edge. He had Athena bent over the cold marble, his hands gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail to expose the nape of her neck. He drove into her from behind, a rough, punishing rhythm that had her gasping, her fingers clawing at the stone as he hit her cervix with every relentless thrust.

Resting on the counter right beside her gripped hand were his badge and his service weapon—the twin symbols of his authority, now just cold metal observers to his surrender.

As he pulled away from her neck, his voice was a low, jagged rasp in the hollow of her ear. "You’ve been waiting for this," he murmured, his hands tightening on her hips, bruising the skin. "To see how far I’d fall to get to you."

Athena’s fingers scraped against the marble, her knuckles white. She didn't turn around; she didn't need to. "I didn't make you fall, Jay," she gasped, her head falling forward as his rhythm grew more frantic, more desperate. "I just cleared the floor. You chose to jump."

He let out a sound that was half-growl, half-sob, driving into her with a final, crushing force that seemed to aim for the very center of her soul. In that moment, he wasn't a hero. He wasn't a protector. He was a man being consumed by a fire he had mistaken for a hearth.

Beside her hand, the sunlight caught the edge of his silver shield. It looked small. It looked like a toy.

"The badge," she whispered, her voice a serrated edge as she reached out, her index finger tracing the cold metal of his gun's slide while he shuddered against her. "It’s so loud, Jay. All that duty... all that noise. Don't you feel better now that it’s quiet?"

Jay buried his face in her hair, the smell of her lavender shampoo mixing with the salt of his skin. "Shut up," he choked out, though there was no conviction in it. "Just... stay still."

"Always," she promised, a sharp, dark smile tugging at her lips. "I’m the only thing in your life that’s ever going to stay exactly where you put it."

Jay woke to a silence so profound it felt heavy.

Athena was tucked against him, her body a perfect fit in the curve of his. He watched her for a moment the rise and fall of her chest, the way her eyelashes cast long shadows on her cheekbones. She looked innocent. She looked like the victim the world expected her to be.

He shifted, his arm aching from where she’d anchored herself to him, and his eyes landed on the nightstand. She had moved his gun and badge from the kitchen. They were now sitting on his side of the bed, arranged with terrifying precision parallel to the edge of the wood, exactly one inch apart.

Athena’s eyes fluttered open. She didn't startle. She didn't offer a sleepy smile. She just looked at him with that fixated, emerald gaze.

"You're thinking about the 21st," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I'm thinking about how I'm going to explain this to Voight," Jay said, his voice gravelly. "I'm thinking about the fact that I’m the lead detective on a case where the primary suspect is currently in my bed."

Athena sat up, the sheet falling away to reveal the marks his hands had left on her hips. She looked at them with a strange sense of pride.

His phone buzzed softly on the nightstand.

Ruzek.

Jay carefully slipped his arm free and answered in a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“We got something,” Adam said. “About the parents.”

Jay closed his eyes. “What kind of something?”

“They knew about the affair. Knew for months. And they sided with the sister. Said Athena was ‘too cold,’ ‘too focused on work,’ not ‘warm’ enough to keep a man.”

Jay’s jaw tightened.

“And it gets worse,” Adam continued. “The sister was deep in debt. Credit cards, gambling, loans she couldn’t pay back. Looks like she was pushing the fiancé to cash out that life insurance.”

Jay glanced back at Athena, asleep and unaware.

“So they were planning to profit off leaving her,” he muttered.

“Yeah. And now someone else might’ve beaten them to it.”

Jay hung up slowly.

Athena stirred.

“Bad dream?” she murmured.

“No,” Jay said softly. “Just bad people.”

She opened her eyes, meeting his. “You look like you’re carrying something.”

He hesitated, then told her. All of it. The parents. The betrayal. The money.

Her face went still.

“They always chose her,” she whispered. “No matter what she did.”

Jay reached for her hand. “You didn’t deserve any of it.”

For once, Athena didn’t argue.

The silence in the bedroom was heavy, a thick shroud of aftermath that felt more like a sanctuary than a crime scene. For a long time, neither of them moved. Jay could feel the erratic rhythm of her heart smoothing out against his chest, the jagged edges of her breathing finally finding a steady, synchronized pace with his own. She wasn't the "Grandmaster" in this light; she wasn't the marketing mogul or the suspected sociopath. She was just a woman standing in the center of a life that had been violently hollowed out, looking for a place to anchor.

She just leaned into him, forehead resting against his shoulder, letting herself feel it—the hot, searing anger at the betrayal, the cold weight of the grief she wasn't supposed to have, and the hollow ache of the abandonment that had started at the altar and ended in a morgue. Every tremor in her frame was a confession she wouldn't make out loud, a silent admission that her "perfection" was just a cage she’d built to keep the pain from escaping.

And Jay stayed right there, his arms a literal fortress around her. He didn't offer empty platitudes or detective jargon. He didn't remind her that he was a cop or that they were standing in the middle of a professional suicide. He just held her like he wasn’t going anywhere, his chin resting on the top of her head, his hands steady on her back a solid, unmoving presence in a world that had spent the last two weeks spinning out of her control.

An hour later, the sun was high enough to cut through the city’s haze, turning the apartment into a gallery of dust motes and expensive finishes. The intimacy of the night hadn't evaporated; it had just shifted into something more domestic, more deliberate.

Athena was in the kitchen, her movements back to their fluid, practiced precision. She had already ironed Jay’s shirt, the fabric crisp and smelling of steam, starch, and her perfume, draped perfectly over the back of a chair as if he had lived there for years. It was a silent claim, a way of "fixing" him after the chaos of the night before.

She was moving through the cabinets, her brow furrowed in a rare display of agitation. She was trying to find her favorite coffee mug the one with the specific weight and the smooth, matte finish that felt right in her hands.

"Athena, hey," Jay said, stepping toward her. "They’re just keys. You probably just set them down when we came in."

She didn't hear him. She was standing in front of the cupboard, her hands trembling as she stared at the empty space where her favorite ceramic mug usually sat. Everything in her house had a place. If the place was empty, the world was ending.

"It’s not here," she whispered, her voice climbing an octave. "It’s not here, and the keys aren't on the hook, and the sequence is wrong, Jay. The sequence is broken."

She began to hyperventilate, her chest heaving as she gripped the edge of the marble countertop. Her knuckles were white. This wasn't just "neatness"—it was a psychological collapse. The "sociopathic" mask of the cool, collected woman had cracked, revealing the raw, jagged edges of her OCD.

"Look at me," Jay commanded, stepping into her space and taking her shoulders. "Athena, look at my eyes."

She looked up, her pupils blown wide with terror.

"I’m going to find them," Jay promised, his voice low and steady—the same voice he used to talk people off ledges. "I’m not leaving until I find them. Breathe with me. One... two... three."

He held her until the shaking subsided into small shudders. To Jay, she looked like a broken bird. To Athena, he looked like a god. He’s the only one who sees the mess and doesn't run, she thought. Fuck it if I can't have him. I'll die before I let him go.

"Stay here," he whispered.

Jay walked through the house. He found the favorite mug sitting on her mahogany desk in the home office, resting on a coaster, likely forgotten during a late-night bout of nerves. He then moved to the living room. Tucked deep between the velvet pillows of the couch, his fingers brushed metal. The car keys.

He returned to the kitchen, holding the items like trophies. The relief that washed over Athena’s face was haunting. She took the keys and the mug, clutching them to her chest as if they were holy relics.

"You found them," she breathed, stepping into his arms. "You fixed it."

"I've got you," Jay said, kissing the top of her head.

He didn't see the look in her eyes as she tucked her face into his chest. It wasn't just gratitude. It was a terrifying, permanent fixation. She had decided in that moment that Jay Halstead was no longer a person—he was a necessity. And she would do anything to keep him.

After the panic attack, the atmosphere in the house shifted. Athena didn’t go back to her clinical, distant self. Instead, she moved like she was tethered to Jay by an invisible cord.

As he tried to get his things together for shift, she was right there adjusting his collar, her fingers lingering on his skin. When he sat down to put on his boots, she sat on the floor between his knees, resting her head against his thigh.

"You're going to be late," she whispered, though she made no move to let him up. Her hands traced the holster on his hip, her touch light but possessive.

Jay looked down at her, running a hand through her hair. Normally, this level of clinginess would be a red flag for a seasoned detective, but Jay was down bad. He liked the weight of her leaning on him. It made him feel essential. "Voight’s already going to kill me, Athena. Five more minutes won't change that."

"I don't like it when the house is quiet anymore," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "The silence feels... messy. You make it quiet in a good way."

She stood up and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face in his chest. She held him with a strength that was surprising, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. It wasn't just a hug; it was a claim.

Jay wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. He felt a surge of protectiveness that clouded every bit of his police training. "I’ll check in on you at lunch. And I’ll come straight back here after I wrap up at the district. I promise."

Athena pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes dark and fixated. "Promise. If you don't, I’ll have to come find you. I don't think I can have the 'out of order' feeling again, Jay."

He laughed softly, missing the underlying threat in her words. "You won't have to."

[yazzieeee]

Same character, different shows

Detective Lindsay is just captain benson before SVU. I love the crossover episodes!

Greg Yates is kinda her William Lewis but fortunately he’s only mentally torturing her not physically.

[spnjediavenger]

Truth or Dare (Jay Halstead x reader)

Type: one-shot; jay halstead x reader, 21st precinct x reader (platonic)

Warnings: adam being a dick, angst, little spicy, mentions of sex (no smut)

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: brief mention of sexual assault, no details, alludes to PTSD (reader’s)

Spoilers: none

Notes: i did adam a little dirty in this, sorry 😅

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the One Chicago series, characters, or plots

Word count: 1796

Y/n and Jay had been dating for a few months now. They met and became friends when Y/n joined Intelligence. And with no amount of light badgering from their friends to spill their feelings, the two became a couple. Everything had been going well from the get-go. Jay was very open about his past (relationships and otherwise), and Y/n tried to do the same. While she didn’t give details, she was at least upfront about the fact that she had an iffy past when it came to men and needed to go slow. Jay understood and Y/n was grateful. Everything was great.

Or so Y/n thought.

It had been a rough week at the 21st precinct. Long case with depleted leads until the breakthrough at the end. Offenders caught…but no surviving victims. During occasions like this, it became something of a tradition for Y/n to invite everyone over for a game night that weekend as a way to unwind. Y/n already talked to Kim and Kevin, so she headed up to Intelligence with the former, laughing with her as they walked through the gate until they heard the guys talking.

“So what’s Y/n like?” Adam said, a bit too loudly.

Y/n held her arm out, stopping Burgess abruptly, and shushed her. She heard Jay scoff.

“You know her, idiot,” he said.

“Come on, man, you know what I mean,” Adam said suggestively.

Jay just scoffed again. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Bullshit,” Antonio jumped in, chuckling. “That’s all you did before you got together with Y/n.”

“You haven’t hit her yet, have you?” Adam said, a smile evident in his voice.

“Mind your own business, man,” Jay barked.

“It is kinda weird, man. You’ve been together for what…a couple months?” Antonio asked.

“You guys need something better to do than question my sex life,” Jay said quieter. Y/n could hear something else in his voice though…embarrassment? Or maybe it was disappointment? Either way, Y/n didn’t like it, guilt swelling in her chest.

“Or lack thereof,” Adam muttered under his breath, though loud enough to make sure Jay heard.

Y/n’s face reddened and tears stung her eyes.

“Y/n,” Kim tried getting her friend’s attention. “Y/n!” she whisper-yelled, grabbing her arm and shaking it a bit. The detective finally looked back at her. “Don’t worry about it, ok? Men don’t think with their brains.”

“Apparently that’s all I let Jay think with,” Y/n muttered, turning around and heading back down the stairs.

“Y/n! Y/n, what about the game night?”

“I’ll text the group chat,” she muttered again as she walked to the locker room.

The next night, Y/n, Jay, Adam, Antonio, Kevin, Kim, and Erin were all gathered in the living room of Y/n’s apartment, a few board games scattered around and drinks in hand. Despite the previous hectic case, laughter could be heard and smiles could be seen. It was a welcome departure from the week they had.

After a while, Y/n set her drink down and leaned into Jay who put an arm around her shoulders. “Ok, what do we wanna play next?” she asked the group.

“How about truth or dare?” Adam suggested.

Y/n scoffed. “Uh, how about ‘no’ ‘cause we’re not high schoolers?”

“Aw, come on, L/n, lighten up. We all know each other here.”

“Let’s give it a chance,” Jay chuckled, planting a kiss on her head. Y/n rolled her eyes but nodded.

A few turns went by, and while it may have been funny watching Jay have to take a shot glass filled with hot sauce and Adam sensually dance to Taylor Swift, Y/n still thought the whole thing was a bit childish.

“Y/n,” Adam smirked, clearly having had one too many at that point. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she said easily, causing a couple groans. “What?! After all the stupid things the guys have had each other do? No thank you. Truth.”

“Why won’t you have sex with Jay?”

Y/n’s face immediately paled and her heart jumped to her throat. 

“Adam!” Kim scolded, hitting his arm. She knew about Y/n’s past and felt defensive over her friend; especially after what they overheard the other day. She also saw the way Jay’s face darkened and was hoping to keep things from getting violent tonight. “Y/n, you can pick something else, don’t listen to him.” She went to turn back to Y/n to find her already on her feet and speed-walking to the bedroom then shot an annoyed look at Adam.

“What??” he said, holding his arms up after shrugging. “I mean, why won’t she talk about it?”

“Maybe because it’s none of your damn business, that’s why!” Jay shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him before getting up to follow his girlfriend. 

“Why not-”

“BECAUSE I WAS FUCKING RAPED, OK?!” Y/n shouted, glaring daggers at Adam before spinning back around and continuing to walk off.

“Y/n!” Jay called after her.

Everyone else turned to glare at Ruzek. Erin slapped the back of his head.

“Ay!” he yelled, rubbing the sore spot.

“You’re an insensitive idiot, you know that?” she said, taking another swig of beer.

Down the hall, Jay grabbed Y/n’s arm and gently pulled her into her room, shutting the door behind them. “Hey,” he murmured. Y/n didn’t respond. “Y/n,” he said a little louder, grabbing her shoulder. The girl raised a fist to her mouth, shaking her head. “Sweetheart, don’t listen to that ass, ok? He’s an idiot when he’s drunk and-”

“But it’s not just when he’s drunk, is it?” she breathed shakily, finally turning to face Jay. His heart broke at the embarrassed tears that ran down her cheeks. He raised a hand to wipe them away but she backed up. “I heard you guys the other day, Jay,” Y/n admitted, making her boyfriend’s face drop.

“Babe, it’s…it’s not a big deal,” he tried to comfort her.

“It’s not because I don’t want to, Jay, I love you, I really do, I-”

“Y/n-”

“My relationship before this one helped me a lot with getting comfortable with things again. But this…it still terrifies me, Jay. It’s-It’s not fair to you. I should’ve told you before. I-”

“Y/n!” Jay yelled, grabbing both Y/n’s shoulders and turning her to face him again. She met his eyes. “Can you hear me out now, please?” he said gentler this time. He moved his hands to her face and his gaze softened. “I don’t care about that. Ok? I. Love. You. And I told you from the start that I was ok going slow. I wanted this to be different from everything else. I want to do right by you. And if that means we don’t have sex for a while then I’m ok with that. This relationship? Us? It means a hell of a lot more to me than sex. You hear me?”

Y/n let out a happy chuckle through her tears, moving her hands up to cover Jay’s that were still holding her face. “I love you too…I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

Jay smiled. “I think you got that backwards, babe. I got lucky with you. You have made me a better person. You put me back together when I didn’t think it was possible. And all that was without having sex.” He grinned when Y/n let out a watery giggle and pressed his forehead against hers, placing a kiss on her nose. “Good?”

Y/n pecked his lips. “Good.”

Jay wiped her remaining tears away with his thumbs and took one of her hands. “Ready to head back out?”

Y/n took a deep breath and looked in his eyes. “I…I think I’m social-ed out for the night…can you maybe-” she was cut off when a gentle knock came at the door. Y/n’s eyes followed Jay as he opened the door just enough to see who it was, blocking their view into the room. She saw his form relax a bit and step aside to let Kim in. Y/n smiled lightly and let her friend pull her into a hug. Jay smiled as well, appreciating Kim being there for his girlfriend. 

They parted and Kim put a hand on Y/n’s arm. “Everyone’s heading out, Y/n. We figured we should give you some space after…well, you know.”

Y/n sighed and her smile widened a bit. “Thanks, Kim,” she said, hugging her again.

“Text me tomorrow, ok? I wanna make sure you’re ok.”

“I will. Promise.”

“Thanks, Kim,” Jay said sincerely, squeezing her shoulder a bit. She patted his arm and left the couple to relax for the remainder of the night.

The following Monday, Y/n and Jay walked into the precinct and made their way up the stairs to Intelligence. The first thing Y/n noticed was her usual Starbucks order on her desk, making her furrow her brow until Adam shuffled towards her with his hands in his pockets. Jay squared up a bit, his nostrils flaring. Seeing Ruzek’s face filled with regret, Y/n held her arm in front of Jay to signal him to stand down.

“Y/n, look…I didn’t know…not that it makes what I did ok…I am..such an ass,” Adam relented.

“And I shouldn’t have egged him on, ok? It was none of my business either,” Antonio added as he walked up, giving Y/n’s shoulder a squeeze. The girl smiled at the sentiment and squeezed Antonio’s arm, making him smile.

“I know a drink isn’t going to settle things but I just wanted to start the week on a more positive note so I can try and start making it up to you,” Adam continued his own apology. “I truly feel bad for what I did and I really am sorry, Y/n.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile a bit, noticing how Adam visibly deflated at it. “I appreciate the gesture, Adam. And while it definitely was not your business and what you did at game night wasn’t right, I know you didn’t mean anything harmful by it. I’m not gonna hold anything against you. But I will accept any and all forms of bribery,” she added with a smirk as she grabbed the drink from her desk, making the others in the room laugh. Adam apologized to Jay as well, the two shaking hands after. Voight soon walked in and the day started. Things went back to normal and as Jay smiled over at Y/n from across the room, she felt assured of where their relationship stood.

Everything was ok.