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hisunshiine · 1 year

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— a wager of lords & love | myg

♔ pairing: noble!yoongi x noble!reader

♔ au/genre: regency era au, arranged marriage au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst

♔ rating: M

♔ wc: 6,813

⚔ warnings: reader’s mom is not alive, era-appropriate sexism, sex jokes, pet names, bedding ceremony, explicit smut: fingering, marking, light breast play, oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, you will fall so hard for yoongi.

♔ an: this story was written for Leah | @colormepurplex2 as part of the BangtanWHQ Valentine’s Event “Picture Perfect”. Thank you to my beta readers: @downbad4yoongi, @peachiilovesot7, and @moonleeai; this story was so much fun to write. Your feedback, as always, was valuable to making not only this story at it’s best but also making my day better when reading your comments. I love regency era au’s and this one only made me fall even more madly in love with Yoongi, and I hope you will too! Please enjoy!

“What in heaven’s name did I do last night?”

Yoongi groans as he rolls over in his plush bed sheets, sunlight streaming through the window at an ungodly hour. Ungodly, because he never sleeps in this late, but the Scottish whisky and late night at Lord Kim Namjoon’s manor has made him act out of character in more ways than one.

*flashback to the previous evening*

“Yoongi, it has been too long since we’ve gotten together properly. You must come celebrate. It’s not every day that one as young as I is able to acquire more wealth than what feels like the King himself can own.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes from where he stands across the study from his large oak desk, hand gripping the telephone to his ear as he leans closer to the box on the wall to reply.

“I have a plethora of worries, Namjoon, and none of them can be solved by celebrating your wealth.”

“I beg to differ! Come! Have a drink and make merry, partake in some illicit pleasantries. I am sure that’s just what you need to clear your mind and find a resolution.”

“I doubt I will have a resolution by the night’s end, but against my better judgment, I will be there.”

And Yoongi made sure to keep his promise, strolling into the large manor filled to the brim with the most darling of debutantes from Daehurst to Ilsansterchire. He recalls the way the single women seemed to throw themselves at him, all fluttering eyelashes and demure smiles as if they were captivated by his looks and not the wealth they knew lay in wait for his future bride.

The knowledge of his arrival spread like wildfire through the ballroom and Yoongi had felt himself grow flustered as a gaggle of pristine beauties crowded around him to fight for his attention. He kept his face nonplussed despite the rising anxiety creeping along his outer extremities and towards his chest. Luckily, the arrival of the Earl of Upton Busan and the Marquees of Gwangchester helped reduce the number of women in his presence.

Yoongi remembers pretending to be summoned by a friend, escaping into what he thought was an empty parlor that belonged to the late Lord Kim, but the sitting room, with two walls filled from floor to ceiling with books of all sizes and colors was, in fact, occupied. The large oak desk off to the side held an older gentleman, who also seemed to be happy in his solitude, hiding from the revelry.

The man moved a jewel-encrusted chessman across a marble chess board before looking up at Yoongi, a slight nod of his head summoning Yoongi over to join him. He produced a bottle of Smokehead Islay single-malt scotch whisky that he’d been nursing, poured Yoongi a hefty serving into a Glencairn whisky glass, which he promptly swirled to open up the aromas for full appreciation before downing the entire portion.

He knows that this was the catalyst for the conversation of what was bothering him, and so Yoongi, lips loosened from his liquor intake, shared to whom he found out was the Marquees of Seoulshire, his predicament. How his late father’s younger brother, jealous of his position, was sowing distrust in the elder’s bloodline, touting the fact that his eldest son was already married and with an heir on the way, when Yoongi had yet to take a woman’s hand in marriage despite being five years older than his cousin.

Typically, this would not be such a strange thing; many male nobility did not wed until their late twenties, and Yoongi only recently turned his twenty-ninth year, but with his estranged uncle vying to take over the wealth and power of the entire family following his father’s passing, Yoongi had to procure a wife, and fast.

Bonding with the elder nobleman, both introverts sequestered themselves with flowing, piquant beverages, and a small miniature of the only daughter of the Marquees produced for viewing, and thus, a drunken deal was struck for the hand of his only daughter to be wed in one week’s time to the Duke of Daehurst, Min Yoongi. That only daughter being none other than…

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. The white dress, with its cut right beneath your bosom, is stifling despite its beauty, and the body of the gown falls along your figure gently. The sleeves are loosely capped, a lace frill edging the cuffs and the line of your decolletage. Your hair is pinned up, with a tiara inlaid with precious stones as the centerpiece to secure the veil flowing down your back in place.

The gloved hand of your maid of honor, Eleanor, who you lovingly refer to as Ellie, reaches up to fluff the veil, nervous energy displacing itself as she holds back from igniting your ire again. You have only just calmed down as your lady’s maid, Charity, places the last of the thrown perfume bottles back on the vanity. You had catapulted them for good reason, you believe. For in a few minutes, you, the unmarried daughter of the Marquees of Seoulshire, will walk down the aisle in the Duke of Daehurst’s manor, towards a man you have never spoken to—have never met—where your traitorous father plans to give you away to become the Duchess of Daehurst.

“Lady Eleanor, will you please take your spot at the door?” Charity asks quietly, following a quick rap on the door, and you feel your heart begin a mad dash within the cavity of your ribcage. As a woman, you have nothing—no power, no wealth of your own, even your title changes from your father to that of your future husband. Some of the things your father has bought you have traveled from your home to the Duke’s, but other items are expected to be bought new, because even they belong to your father. Your only worth lies in the ability to be a proper match for a nobleman and provide him with an heir to carry on his bloodline.

A rush of anger quells the sadness this arranged marriage has left you feeling this past week, since your father went back on the one promise he made you: that you could marry for love, like he did with your late mother, rest her soul.

You scoff at the thought that men should hold any power in society. In one moment, your own father forgot his loyalty as well as his promise to his only daughter. In a drunken stupor, two men agreed to trade you like chattel, your position in life changing in the blink of an eye. Useless, is what they are.

The door is open just a sliver, allowing in the swell of the music, and you hear the creak of the hinges as Ellie disappears down the hall. Your father stands in the corridor, his eyes staring at the floor, unable to meet yours. You can tell he feels rather guilty for the predicament he has forced on you, but with the knowledge that he is not actually mad at the match, you still feel furious. Marrying up in society may afford you a better life, not that you would have had a destitute one with your father’s title, you’d just hoped (and had been promised you would get) to be in love with the man waiting at the end of the aisle for you, instead of dreading the stranger you were about to meet.

Barely able to focus, you feel out of body as your father wraps your arm through his and leads you down the same path Ellie took just moments before. You can see the archway that leads into the wedding hall where your family and friends wait to observe you promise to obey and cherish a man who was described to you by your father as a “rather strapping young man, who’s quiet but wise and with gentle eyes.”

Taking the turn into the room, all eyes are drawn to you as your eyes are drawn to him. He looks breathtaking. Is this truly the man your father made a drunken deal with? The two of you lock eyes, and you work to fix the shock from your face as his demeanor barely changes. In a blink, your father is placing your hand into the Duke’s, and you are able to take in his features up close.

His face is sharp, eyes angled in a cat-like manner that give the impression he is gazing into your soul and sees the truth you attempt to keep hidden. His hair, wavy and pitch black, is parted to the side where the length falls into his face in an alluring manner. It calls to you, wanting to tuck it behind his ear if only to touch his porcelain skin, unblemished and glowing.

He watches you closely, eyes traveling across your frame as he follows your lead, drinking you in. You’re sure that you still look flawless, ever the blushing bride that Charity and Ellie made you up to be, and for a moment you wonder if the Duke is as taken by your looks as you are by his, before remembering that he is the enemy.

The ceremony ends quickly, a recitation of words that will join you in holy matrimony, followed by words promising to remain faithful to one another until parted by death, and you find yourself face to face with the Duke. He takes a small ring from the man right behind him, Lord Kim Namjoon, who you recognize from his many visits to handle business with your father.

“Like this ring, I shall endlessly provide for you and cherish you, until I no longer exist.”

You can hear Ellie swoon from the low tone his voice takes to deliver the sentiment as he stares into your eyes. Vulnerability flashes for a moment before he looks down, focus solely pointed towards the task of claiming you by way of a golden wedding ring, moonstone inlaid with tiny diamonds surrounding it.

Ellie nudges you to hand you the ring provided for the ceremony by the Min family. It is a deep ebony, with a single thin gold stripe running across the middle of the band. The top is raised to a plateau, a moonstone carved with the Yeoheung Min Clan symbol set within the ring.

Taking the regalia from her gloved palm, you recite your part with eyes on him. Despite your anger at the arrangement, he truly is breathtaking. It takes away from the sting of your words just barely, enough that you are able to deliver them without gagging on the bristling words.

“Like this ring, I shall endlessly obey and cherish you, until I no longer exist.”

You barely hear when the minister says that the two of you are free to share a kiss, but you dutifully keep your face calm as your stomach ties itself into knots.

He leans closer, blush colored lips drawing closer until your eyes close with the contact. So soft…his lips tenderly settle against yours, slight pressure as he angles his head to receive you better, hands falling to your hips gently as he tugs you a step closer and it’s like the room disappears leaving just the two of you in it.

All too soon the room comes back into focus as he steps away, face blushing as the room erupts into applause and cheer from the audience. The end of the ceremony is like a blur, and the next thing that you are aware of, you are seated for an early dinner and a reception in the Daehurst Manor Great Hall for guests to greet you and your new husband, leave expensive gifts, and offer kind words of advice for a long-lasting, happy marriage.

“Would it be weird to introduce myself to you, seeing as I am already your spouse?”

His voice is intriguing—having barely heard it during the ceremony—a low rumble that has you leaning in to hear him better.

“I assure you, my lord, weird was deciding for me that I would marry you, without even bothering to meet me beforehand. What if I had been an ogre? But I digress, it’s not any weirder than hearing you call yourself my husband, husband.”

He smiles, one side of his mouth lifting in an amused smirk as he turns in his seat to face you head on. You dislike him even more that your snide remark made not a dent in his armor. No trace of the bashful hue from the kiss lingers, cat eyes glinting with mischief.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my non-ogre wife. I am Duke Min Yoongi of Daehurst.”

Charity and Ellie can barely contain their laughter as they stare at your contemptuous face. Eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed, you shake your head rapidly in distaste at the bedding ceremony outfit they laid out for you.

“I simply will not wear it.”

“Please, Lady Min, you will leave him stunned. It’s perfect.”

“Who said I want to stun that man? Besides, I cannot be seen in so little clothing by a stranger!”

“He’s hardly a stranger, love,” Ellie said, ignoring your stubborn nature. “He’s your husband.”

“Yes, my husband whom I have known all of two hours! I’m just expected to strut in wearing this to please him, and then—” you pause, stricken as your thoughts settle on what is expected of you.

“Yes, you will wear this very thoughtful gift from me, and then you will consummate the marriage!” Ellie whispers the act as if conspiring to commit a crime. To be fair, you felt like a criminal for how indecent the undergarments were.

Laid on the bed was a short, white boned corset, all frill and lace with a matching pair of high waisted drawers. Ellie had also provided a matching pair of white stockings, made of silk and to be held up with ruffled garters at your thigh. There was a silky chemise that you could wear as a tunic to cover yourself, but once in the Duke’s bedroom, he would see you in all of your risque glory.

“Come now, m’lady, we must finish getting you ready. I am sure the men are chomping at the bit to begin the ceremony.”

Dread fills you as you strip from your wedding dress and step into the lingerie your maid of honor gifted you for your wedding night.

“Well, they can just chomp a bit longer, maybe they can tire each other out enough that I am not needed tonight.”

Having only bathed two hours prior, you are able to skip the bath and spend a few more precious moments with your closest friends. You didn’t have a mother to talk to about things like bedding ceremonies, having learned everything you could from the head house matron, kitchen maids, Charity, and Ellie. Ellie was able to convince her own mother to share a little this past week to help you, but there was still so much you felt you did not know to expect.

As Charity brushes your hair, Ellie spreads a glittering, perfumed powder onto your skin as she talks in the background of the excitement she feels, but you cannot bring yourself to share in it. With a quick twist and pin, your hair is up and you find your feet leading towards the Duke’s wing of the manor. You can hear the merrymaking from the reception still carrying on downstairs; with a wedding as important as yours, you were sure that the people would be here celebrating your union until the sun began to rise.

The door to the Duke’s room is ajar, loud laughter coming from the well lit room. Ellie walks arm in arm with you as Charity follows behind, seeing you off. As your lady’s maid, she’ll reside with you in the Daehurst manor. The housekeeper stands a few paces from the door to lead Charity to her new quarters. Bidding you goodnight, Charity retires for the evening as you and Ellie enter the bedchamber. It is quite spacious, with a large bed in the middle of the room. To the left of the entryway sits a low table surrounded by a pair of armchairs and a matching loveseat, all framed by a magnificent fireplace.

Every seat is taken, with three men squeezing onto the loveseat and a sixth perched on the edge of one of the armchairs. You don’t recognize five of the six men, though Lord Kim Namjoon is among them. You do not see your new husband, so you and Ellie remain standing away from the men so as not to be seen as indecent.

“Duchess! You have arrived for your bedding ceremony, have you not?” A blond haired man nearly falls from the love seat, giggles alerting you to his inebriation. An open decanter sits on the squat table, almost empty.

“Please, Jimin, on all things that are holy, do not bother my wife.”

Your head whips around at the gravely sound of the Duke’s voice. Yoongi looks freshly bathed, no longer in a suit but in a long tunic that sits untucked over loose, black trousers. His dark hair falls in damp curls framing his face, and you hold in a small gasp.

“I won’t bother her hole-y, hyung—that’s your job! Get her all hot and bother—”

“Get out.”

The giggling, intoxicated men all look to Yoongi, pouting with various levels of frowns and scowls adorning their faces. You and Ellie watch the interaction, Ellie with a smile at their banter and you with a grimace as you attempt to keep yourself from growing warm at the indecent remarks regarding what is to come.

“But hyung!” You watch as another one pouts, standing from the loveseat to full height to plead with your husband. “You’re the first to be wed, we’ve been talking about being witnesses for each other for years!”

“Taehyung, you know the plan was to be here when she arrived as a testament to the wedding night, but never to stay. I appreciate your…excitement, but now that you can confirm the duchess’s arrival, you all may take your leave.”

“Appreciate our excitement, but won’t let us stay to watch as you get exci—”

“Jungkook, that’s enough! Out, now!”

With a groan, the three mischievous men begin to walk out of the bedchamber, waving at the older three who are slow to get up. Ellie squeezes your hand in unity before stepping away to follow the boisterous group out into the hall.

“I’ll see you at breakfast, love. I’ll be traveling back to Seoulshire with your father tomorrow afternoon.”

You can only nod, aware of the plans but seeing her linger to make sure that you are okay. You give her a smile, and she finally steps through the threshold behind the first troupe of men to return back to the room you had prepared in. The last three men follow, greeting you and saying goodnight in the same breath.

“It is a pleasure to see you, my lady. I pray that by morning you are able to turn this peevish man affable.”

“Enjoy your night, Duchess!”

“Yeah, all two minutes of it!”

Yoongi thunders to the door, shutting it as the group bursts into laughter muffled by the oak barrier. He turns the lock, then turns his back to it to lean against. You can’t help but to watch him, chest rising before he releases a long sigh. He reaches a hand up to his neck, scratching subtly. The sleeve of his tunic slides along his arm, revealing more unblemished skin. His head is facing the carpet, ink-colored hair falling to cover his face—a face you think you could like very much—eventually. Though right now, even the thought is not enough to quell your irritation at your welcoming.

“I am so sorry for my friends’ behavior.”

His apology startles you. You are not used to men of his prestige to be so easy to offer an apology. During the wedding and at the reception, he appeared stoic, quiet and observing except for the few moments he engaged with you. You assumed it was just happenstance, that he was playing off of your stubborn jests, but seeing him now so open makes you wonder.

“My lord, no need to apologize. They were inebriated and excited for our coupling. Ellie was excited too, though she was better at keeping it hidden.”

“Yes, women do tend to be better at that. More practiced.”

“Do you truly believe that? I have watched my father work, and all noblemen seem to be very good at hiding their emotions.”

Yoongi smirks at your wit, pushing off of the door and walking closer to you.

“You are quite keen, my lady.”

His compliment startles you, as does his encroaching proximity. It is not menacing, if anything you are startled by your body’s response to it. His scent, a heady, woodsy musk infiltrates your senses causing any lingering animosity you had towards your father for this arrangement to seep from you. You’re tired of fighting; the knowledge of having lost before even starting lingering in your mind each time you fight back against the marriage has exhausted you. Still, you want to make sure that the Duke is aware that while you may be acquiescent, you are not easily compliant.

“My lord, I—” you look down at your hands, stumbling over your anger as you collect your thoughts. “I just want to say that I know neither of us wanted this, neither of us knew what to expect until we saw each other today, but I made a vow, so I promise to try my best, but I don’t know what I’m doing or what you expect from me, and I don’t think that I will be good at obeying, so please do not expect that from me. You may be a duke and my husband, but I demand that you treat me as an equal—”

“Shhh…” Yoongi’s thumb and forefinger grip your chin, tilting your head up to face him. You have no idea when he got so close. “I spent quite some time with your father, my lady. He spoke very highly of you and even produced your miniature from his coat pocket to show me. I may have been drunk, but I was not a fool in my decision.” His eyes rove across your face as he gently tilts your head side to side. “You are much more beautiful than the painting captured.”

If he’s hoping that flattery will tamper your annoyance, you feel he will need to try a bit harder. Though, to be fair, his flattery is working on you. Pair that with his face, and he’s doing quite a good job at putting out the fire, but you still remain steadfast.

“How lucky to be a man. You got to see a sample of the product before buying, while I just had to trust that my father wasn’t so drunk that he sold me to the next man who walked past?” You scoff, crossing your arms as you raise your chin out of his hold in defiance.

“Trust me, princess, the luck was all mine. Had I not been the next man to walk by, who knows what woman I would have had to settle for.”

You can’t believe he’s teasing you. Calling you princess and making jokes off of your distress. You want to smack the smirk off his face. You want to kiss him again like at the altar. You’re clearly confused after such a long day of upheaval.

“Right, because any woman should be grateful that you chose them? I was promised I would get to marry for love, just to wake up and be told I was marrying a stranger in a week.”

“Are you really angry because of this arrangement? Not that you should be grateful that I chose you, but you should be thankful for the life that you have, even before me. Not everyone lives how we do.”

Shock. That’s the only way to explain what you are feeling. He is not…man-splaining society’s plights to you, is he?

“I quite know this, my lord. I never said I was not grateful for my life, just that I am currently upset at a promise being broken.”

“Princess, I am sure you know this, but in your stubbornness, you seem to have forgotten yourself. You have a good life, you have food on the table prepared daily by the cooks and maids, and are not having to whore yourself out for a few coins to feed yourself.”

“No, I just have to whore myself to you for the rest of my life, provide you with heirs as soon as possible.” You decide to not hold back; if he’s going to be vulgar as a tactic, two could play at that game. “I may not be whoring myself out for a few coins to feed myself, but let’s not kid ourselves. We both know that I am not seen as anything more than a vessel for your cock and your children to use.”

“Tell me, princess, are you upset because you truly think me some evil, vile man, or are you actually more upset that you don’t have a real reason to push me away?”

Yoongi steps away from you, walking over the bed and settling down on the edge. You can’t help but watch the way his veins move as he leans back and rests on his palms. He’s so handsome and so assured of himself, and behaving as if he doesn’t even care that it’s your wedding night. You really don’t know how to explain how you’re feeling, because everything is at odds. He mistakes your silence during your internal debate as confusion and continues to explain.

“I know I’m not unappealing to the eye, and not an old geezer like many of your friends have had to deal with, I’m sure. We probably aren’t that far off in age difference, if there even is any. We’re young, and while you may be feeling angry about this marriage, I also get the feeling that you’ll be open to letting that anger go soon.”

“I barely know you, my lord, so please don’t take offense to this, but what, pray tell, gives you the feeling that I’ll be letting my anger go soon?” you ask, walking over to where he sits. You feel powerful as you position yourself right in front of him, and being above him like this with his head turned up in order to lock eyes with you, makes his cat eyes look even more alluring.

“Because, my dear wife,” Yoongi leans forward, entering your space as he brings his right arm up off the bed and to your thigh, “of what I plan to do to you tonight.”

Yoongi’s touch is like fire as he drags it up your thigh to the hem of your chemise, using both hands to grip the edge and pull you even closer to him. You inhale a breath, your body giving away just how much he affects you. The last tiny bit of you fights to not give in, that is, until he pouts up at you.

“If you’ll let me?”

Never have you experienced a man handing control over to you like this. All your life, you have been told what to do, how to behave, who to befriend, and even who to marry despite being promised that would be the one area you could decide. But here sits your husband, a man who quite literally holds you in his hands, able to do whatever he wants with your body now that he essentially owns you—this husband of yours is asking your permission to ruin you.

Unable to speak, you simply nod, eyes wide as he stands, and he never looks away from yours until your chemise blocks his view as he pulls it over your head. Now it’s his turn to inhale sharply as he takes in your angelic form. White lace corset ending just below the bust, high waisted lacy bottoms, ruched garters around each thigh with a clasp to hold your silk stockings in place…an angel, indeed.

Leaning closer to you, his words send tingles down your body as he pleads with you.

“I need you to say it, my lady,” he whispers, “tell me that I can touch you here.”

You jolt as you feel his hands touch the exposed skin of your side.

“Y-yes,” you say, clearing your throat due to how parched you sound.

“And can I, say, touch you here?” One hand trails lower, fingers dancing over the front of your drawers as the other holds you in place. Two of his fingers slide between your thighs, pressing against your core, and you sigh out a quiet moan.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good girl.”

His fingers continue to travel back and forth, slight pressure causing you to grasp his shoulders for balance. He drops his head into the bend of your neck, lips leaving wet kisses on your overheated skin. He smells divine, his long hair tickling your cheek as he continues kissing and touching you. Your breathing gets louder, and he responds in kind, speeding up his fingers as you feel yourself ruining your panties for this man.

“Y-yoongi…that f-feels really good,” you tell him, surprise lacing your whimpers. You don’t want him to stop touching you, if anything you want more. Yoongi’s lips are latched onto your neck, tongue swirling with light pressure as your knees grow weak. With a light nip of his teeth, he pulls away to speak.

“I want you to always feel good with me, princess.” His gravelly voice is full of yearning, and you can tell he’s just as affected as you are. “I promise you’ll always feel good, if you let me take care of you.”

You can only nod your head, words eluding you as he turns you in his hold, pressing your back to his front while letting his fingers slide inside of your panties and part your lips. You feel his length pressing between your cheeks, thick and firm. He steps backwards with you, pulling you down until the two of you are seated on the edge of the bed. You’ve never been so turned on, dropping your head back to lean on his shoulder as he pulls one thigh to open you up wider.

You put up no fight, instead grinding down on him as you swirl your hips in time to the pads of his fingers circulating your dripping center. His lips reattach to your exposed neck, this time with more passion and it almost distracts you when his fingers dip inside of you, bucking once in his grip at the welcome intrusion. He’s gentle, only going as far as you let him, and the more he does it, the less you tense up, until he’s gliding in and out of you.

You’re unable to stay quiet any longer, every breath letting out a moan that is a melody to Yoongi’s ears.

“I…Yoongi, I think…I’ve never done this before, what’s happening?” you breathe out, and he chuckles darkly.

“Do you trust me?”

“I—”

“I promise it’ll feel good, okay? Trust me, and don’t fight it.”

“But—” his fingers don’t let up, and you squirm on his lap.

“Princess, be a good girl and trust me, don’t fight it—don’t fight me anymore.”

“O-okay, I trust you, Yoongi.”

Letting go, you relax into his hold as he resumes kissing your neck, left hand pulling your chin until your lips meet his in a sloppy sideways kiss. His foot presses against the inside of yours until you groan at the muscle strain. Your legs are so far apart, but it feels even better as his fingers begin a rapid thrusting. He swallows all of your whimpers as you feel your body reaching a peak and it all just feels so good, his free hand leaving your chin to touch your chest, hands roaming as you rock your hips to meet his palm against your sensitive nub and with a simultaneous bite to your bottom lip and pinch to your neglected nipple; you feel yourself combust.

You swear you see fireworks behind your eyelids as you tremble in Yoongi’s arms, barely alert enough to hear him whispering words of praise as he works you through it. It’s not long (or has it been ages?) before your hands push at his, overstimulation causing you to mewl in frustration.

It feels good and you don’t want to stop, but your body can’t take more. Not right now at least.

“That’s it, you did so well.”

“Me?” you question, voice raspy. “I didn’t even do anything but sit here.”

“Trust me, you did plenty. I think you can feel exactly what you did to me.” Yoongi alludes with a slight thrust of his hips, and you in fact do feel him.

“That’s because of me?”

“It’s all because of you. Your sounds, the way you were grinding onto me, the way you taste…” Yoongi slides his fingers into his mouth, sucking your essence from his two fingers lewdly. “You made me this way.”

Your face grows impossibly warmer at the thought of the power you have over a man such as he, and your ability to bring him to this level of vulnerability.

“Does…does it always feel like that?” you question, wondering if it could possibly get better.

Yoongi can barely contain his smirk, “Oh, dear wife, that was just the appetizer.”

Lifting you off of his lap, he sets you down next to him so he can stand and shed himself of his clothing. Naked, he stands before you in all of his glory so you can take in just how well endowed the duke is before kneeling on one knee.

“Can I take these off of you?” he asks, hands gesturing to your hips. You softly say yes, and once your ruined drawers are discarded, he then touches the sides of your corset. “And these?” Nodding, he leaves you in just your silk stockings. “I rather like how these look…”

Still kneeling, he takes your leg and leans you back until you’re sprawled on your back and he has a perfect view of your heated core. He kisses along your clothed leg until he reaches the skin of your thigh, biting lightly until he rests your leg on his shoulder. Turning to the other leg, he does the same, this time going all the way up. You throw your head back into the soft, satin sheets as your hands grip whatever they can. His tongue explores your sensitive area, lapping at your pearl until you’re incoherent, hands tugging at his long tresses to guide him where you want him.

There are no words to describe how Yoongi is making you feel. You’ve never felt this way before, so powerful or in control. You wonder if he’ll always be this willing to hand over the reins. Either way, you plan to savor it.

The sounds coming from between your thighs are obscene, but the louder and sloppier Yoongi is, the better it feels.

“Yoongi, oh!” Your toes curl as another wave of euphoria grips you. Tender kisses along your stomach just barely keep you from floating away as Yoongi brings himself higher and higher along your body. His teeth nip at your breasts, teasing as he laves his tongue around your nipples, perky against the air in the room. Chest heaving, you try to gather your wits as Yoongi’s naked body lays along yours, his hands on either side of your chest as he massages them, spending ample time tasting everything your body has to offer.

“My lady, if you’re ready, I’d rather like to feel you.”

In your post climactic haze, you try and understand what he’s asking.

“Feel me?”

“Yes,” he says, kissing your neck and you don’t understand how your body can still crave for more just from his lips on your skin, “I rather ache for you, princess.” The meaning becomes clear when he adjusts himself over you, and you feel the thickness against your thigh. You are aware of what he needs, how he means to alleviate his ache, and for a moment, you’re scared.

It all fades away as he kisses you, his lips soft against yours as he soothes away the worry.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise. If it hurts, just tell me to stop, okay?” he presses another kiss to your lips, and you melt.

“Okay,” you whisper as you pull away from the kiss, “I trust you.”

He smiles, this time a genuine one at your words before kissing you again. You feel yourself getting lost in it when a pressure at the apex of your thighs causes you to gasp. Breaking the kiss, you look between your body and Yoongi’s watching as his cock, flushed and rigid, breaches your core. He’s going slow, and he lowers himself back down to kiss you more, wanting to take your mind off of the pain as he fills you.

“You’re…impossibly tight…” he pants, and you would laugh if you were in the mindset, but at the moment, you are all consumed by Yoongi. He pushes another inch, stopping to allow you to grow accustomed to him, and you know that this is unusual for a wedding night—you have heard the horror stories from other women, and this has been anything but. Yoongi has made sure to let you have ownership of your pleasure tonight, and even now, he looks to you for confirmation that he can continue on without hurting you.

Raising your hips, you help guide him in the rest of the way, and he grunts as his forehead touches yours. His arms shake as he holds himself above you, wanting to take you with haste, but knowing he must control himself for now.

Reaching for him, your palms settle on either side of his face, bringing him closer to kiss you as you roll your hips against him. He huffs, pulling out to give you a good, even stroke, and you nearly scream at the pleasure and pain of it. He apologizes against your lips, but you shake your head, urging for more. He complies, though slower this time, not wanting to scare you off from sharing his bed. Yoongi is so gentle, sweet even as he swivels his hips, and you move your hands to grip his hair and his shoulder, leveraging to meet him with every gyration of your lower body.

A few tugs to his hair leaves him cursing in gratification, and soon you feel his hand reach to your leg to lift. His thighs speed up as he thrusts haphazardly into you before you feel a hot release of his seed filling you and spilling out around his cock, now lazily unloading itself as he slows with each jolt. His release provides you with just what you need to follow him, walls clenching around him to milk the last drop.

Sighing, the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, Yoongi’s fingers smoothing your hair as yours play along his chest, a feverish color now spread across his decolletage after your love making.

“I’ve never experienced such a blissful feeling as this,” you admit.

“Likewise, my lov—my lady.” Yoongi corrects a slight slip of the tongue.

“It’s okay, I think I could quite like being called your love,” you tease, though your words ring true. You now know what you felt with Yoongi. Liberation. A freedom you have never felt as a woman, provided to you in the most surprising of places: the arms of a man.

At breakfast the next morning, Ellie can’t help but notice the way you seem to glow as you sit at your husband’s side. The two of you can’t stop touching, whether it be holding hands or light touches to each other's arm as you two talk with the others who stayed overnight. Being married may not have been what you had seen for yourself a week ago, but after last night, you have a feeling that you could fall deeply in love with your husband, the Duke, and he with you, his Duchess.

“Marriage isn’t all that bad, is it, my love?” Yoongi whispers as the maids pass around the breakfast foods, and you shift your gaze to the marks you left barely hidden by his collar from an early morning romp.

“No, my love, I rather find that you have proven me wrong, and I quite like that.”

“And I quite like you.”

“You had better!”

thank you for reading!!!

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thestarrynightslover · 10 months

Text

The Day You Finally Caught a Break

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 1,574

Warnings: FLUFF. Mentions of sex crimes and crimes involving special victims (all very slight).

Summary: After living in a boring routine, the detective (y/n) (y/l/n) catches a lucky break with her colleague Jay Halstead.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: So, this is my first fic in a while and I am aware that it is very cheesy but I just felt like writing something cheesy. Anyways, I hope you like it!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

The day started just like any other would: waking up earlier than necessary, going for a run, doing some yoga, reading, and finally getting ready to go to work. Sure, to a lot of people that might have been a great morning, having all that time to do all that stuff… The only thing was: you’d been running on nothing beyond routine — one that had become quite boring, to be honest — for a couple of years now. Which made you that weird cop who actually enjoyed the worst cases just because it gave you some sort of purpose, some sort of change. Holding that thought, you were supposed to feel lucky once you and your team got deeper into your current case. But, even with the most boring of lives, a person — a decent human being — couldn’t feel lucky for even knowing something like that happens in the world, much less for having to know every sick and twisted detail of a case that involved sex trafficking, pregnant women, all sorts of assault and child abduction.

After it was “over”, around midnight, all of Intelligence seemed to silently agree on staying as long as necessary to finish their reports. Everybody thinking the same way: finishing this today, I can get outta here, get drunk, and put it in a box in the back of my head — where it’ll stay forever. As soon as someone would finish the paperwork, they’d grab their coat, mutter something resembling a goodbye, and rush out of there like the room was on fire. Molly’s wouldn’t be open anymore and none of you really wanted to spend time with each other to risk having to talk out what had happened. And then something strange happened.

Instead of just leaving like your partner Kim and his partner Kevin before her, Ruzek just stood at the door frame, waiting. For Upton. What? He kept looking at her desk so it was pretty obvious but the confirmation came when the detective got up saying: “Hey, Jay, I’mma get going now. You okay if we do our thing some other day?”

By the time Halstead looked up, she was almost reaching Adam which shocked the shit out of you but didn’t seem to faze him much, who only answered: “Yeah. Sure. Night, guys.” And then there were two—the only two Intelligence members who never exchanged more than a couple of polite measures.

Nevertheless, your gossip-starved soul got the best of you, who ended up blurting out a “They’re together?” to no one less than Jay Halstead. For a minute or so the other detective just looked around the room, as if expecting someone to jump out of nowhere and answer your question. But, after your eyes eventually met, he decided on answering.

“Eh… I don’t really know”, he started, while scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve asked, you know?”

“Ah…” Was all you found to say after he stopped for a moment, but he continued.

“That’s just not really how it works between us. But the other day he did show up at her place late at night, which was suspicious. To say the least.” The words just flew right out of his mouth, surprising both of you, who started chuckling awkwardly at the recognition, “this is the first actual conversation we’ve had after all this time working together, isn’t it?”, he asked, ultimately.

“Yeah, I think it is,” you said, now full-on laughing. “God, I can’t believe that the first time I worked up the courage to actually talk to you was to ask for gossip!” You exclaimed, knowing that your cheeks were probably burning up with embarrassment.

“To be honest, I kinda needed to share that with someone. Especially after this moment here.” He confessed, making you laugh and forcing himself to laugh a bit more to try and hide the fact that he couldn’t stop staring at you. It just went wrong when his mouth betrayed him by saying: “You look so damn cute right now!”

"Well, it isn't every day that one finds out that the detective Jay Halstead is a gossip. Which makes me wonder who the cute one really is…"

"Oh, so that's where you're going with this?" He asked with his eyes twinkling. "Because I can prove just how not cute I am…"

"Oh?" You replied simply wondering what kind of proof he could provide against that.

"In fact, I have just the perfect idea, but, for that, you'd have to agree on going out with me first." Jay himself couldn't believe he finally managed to invite you out.

"Ooh, as in a d- date?" Who were you? Stuttering? C'mon!

"A date, yes." He answered, making you feel relieved and nervous again all at the same time.

"Yeah, I, uh, I wouldn't mind that at all. We can try and think of a date that works for both of us…" You suggested.

"Well, on Wednesday I'll be off, how about you?" Jay asked quickly.

"Oh no, that day I have somethings Platt wanted me to do. How about next Monday?"

"That's a no for me, 'cause I'm pulling doubles next week.*

"Damn…"

“Maybe this is a crazy idea but have you finished your report yet?” He asked quizzically.

“Uh, hitting the send button right now. Why?

“Then what if we do it now?”

“The date thingy?” You asked shyly, afraid that had been just a momentaneous thought that came out of his mouth too fast.

At that, he looked at you in awe, mesmerized by how adorable you were. “Yes. The date thingy.”

A million thoughts crossed your mind, including the one that that was a lifetime opportunity and that you should be better dressed, but figuring that saying something like that would only make you miss the opportunity, you settled for asking: “But where would we go? Like, it’s past 1 a.m., Jay, I don’t think there are a lot of places open…”

“Well, I might have a few ideas… Do you trust me?” He asked, holding his hand out to you, who grabbed it at the same time as you grabbed your jacket and purse with your other hand.

“Do you really need to ask that?"

And, like that, some time later you found yourself pulling up to the address Jay had texted you, which was in Canaryville, and it turned out to be an old movie theater that apparently was doing a week of classics with sessions at all times of the day. How Jay knew about that, though, was a mystery to you.

"Hey!" You heard him calling as he crossed the street. "You made a better time getting here than I did!"

"Yeah, well, my car might be faster than your old one," you replied, shrugging innocently.

"Haha, very funny," he deadpanned.

"Hey, this is a cool idea but how did you know it is happening?" You asked, genuinely curious. "I mean, you just don't seem a lot like a movie nerd to me."

"Well, there are still many things you don't know about me. But this one specifically is because I grew up around here and the owner is a friend of my family, so he always lets Will and I know about what's going on with the place."

"Hmmm, that explains it!" You exclaimed with a tad of satisfaction for not being too far off about him.

"But I do enjoy movies, okay?" You made a face of disbelief at him. To which he replied with: "It's true, alright? I'll admit that these days I haven't had much time for it but when I was growing up around here, this place was practically my second home!"

"Oh, so you've brought many others here, I'll assume!" You teased, suddenly feeling more comfortable and consequently more confident.

"Don't! Don't assume that! Growing up I wasn't very successful with the ladies and after that changed I haven't come here often…"

"Ooh, so that means that I'm your first?" You mocked, putting your hand to your heart, "Wow, I'm truly touched now!"

"Yeah, sure, have your fun with me all you want! All I really care about is the fact that I finally managed to get you to go out with me, so I can only hope you'll enjoy yourself." Him saying that, while gazing so intently at you, was making you weak on your knees and got you blushing a bit as well. So you tried to get the attention off you.

"Okay! Then let's pick a movie and watch it already, 'cause tomorrow's probably not gonna be any shorter."

A couple of hours later you and Jay were walking down the street towards a Waffle House while chatting and laughing about the movie like two best friends, which felt really nice but also made you a little confused about the being a date of that date the two of you were on. But, after you both had cleaned your plates at the diner, Jay came onto your bench to clean the corner of your mouth with a napkin, and next thing you knew, you were kissing very passionately in public like a couple of teens, forgetting about the rest of the world altogether, which made you realized, once more, how dull and colorless your life was previous to that moment so you held on to it and you held on to the man behind it.

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1-800-papaya · 8 months

Text

Cops and Bakers: Southern Caffeine

Jay Halstead x Baker!Cordelia Micheals (OC) Warnings: None i think

Author note: As always, feedback is greatly appreciated

Lemon Drops Cafe and Bakery. Big bright yellow and white letters read, and slight lemon decals surrounded the sign. Jay checked his phone before entering the shop; Hailey had insisted that the ex-army ranger get the morning coffee from the new bakery since the one in the break room was utterly broken. Pushing the glass door open, a light twinkle of a bell announced Jay’s presence. A head popped through the doorway that seemed to lead to the kitchens.

“I’ll be with you in a second.” A southern drawl stunned Jay.

The inside of the bakery was just as cozy as the exterior. Clusters of yellow chairs were pushed into three wooden tables, each bearing a yellow and white lemon tablecloth and varying-sized pillow. Along the opposite wall rests a series of tall displays, most filled with either what smelt like fresh loaves or display cakes. Turning more towards the counter, Jay noticed that in between the large coffee machine and the small portion of the counter dedicated to the register was a large display cupboard partially filled with cookies, cupcakes and some savory treats. Along the wall behind the counter, Jay could see an assortment of coffee bean bags that looked like they had yet to be packed away in the above cupboard and potted plants. The bakery overwhelmingly filled Jay with a sense of calm, and he loved the welcoming, cozy, homely environment that Hailey had sent him into.

A young woman soon walked out of the kitchen doorway and greeted Jay warmly. Her Chocolate brown curly hair was haphazardly thrown into a bun, and a yellow ribbon wrapped around the tie. She wore a white short-sleeved shirt beneath a pale yellow apron and chocolate brown pants. Her apron was covered in white dashes of flour and smudges of frosting and chocolate. The pin on her apron read Cordelia, a sticker of a small bundle of lemons decorating the rest of the pin. When Jay’s eyes reached her face, he took note of the imperfect splash of flour that dusted her cheeks and the bright smile that graced her features.

“Good Morning. What can I get ya?” Her voice was perfectly airy and sweet, like the melody of his favourite song. For once, the voice wasn't dull or uninterested; instead, it sounded like she genuinely wanted to be covered in flour dust and chocolate smudges at nearly 6:30 in the morning.

“Four large double shot coffees and Hailey Uptons usual.” He recited the order that Hailey had given him only ten minutes earlier. Jay moved to open his wallet to pay when Cordelia simply shook her head.

“No need to pay, it's on the house.” Her smile was blinding as she moved further down to the coffee machine, Jay following.

“At least let me tip you or something”, Jay argued as the women moved expertly around the small area, quickly making the coffee’s and packing a small box full of freshly baked treats.

“Please, this is the least I can do for you guys”, she spoke, “Besides, that would be breaking my own rules” " she said, pointing towards the large poster plastered above the register. Jay followed her finger and shook his head as he read the sign.

‘Cops, Firefighters, Doctors and Nurses, drinks and treats are on the house, No exceptions!!’

“My dad was a ranger and taught me the value of first responders, so when I started my business, I made it a rule that those who protect us, normal people, from our stupidity would never have to pay. Plus, I make enough profit to cover it anyway.” As she pushed the box and cup tray towards Jay, she gestured to the jar on the counter next to the register, “But if your conscience won't let you leave without leaving a tip, then here, donate to this month's charity, the Chicago police fund” Jay practically swooned over her smile this time. pushing a few large bills into the jar, Jay left the cafe with a dopey smile and a mental promise never to get coffee anywhere else.

#jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #bakery #fluff

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lovecraft-oc-and-canon-ask · 3 months

Text

HI!

Welcome to our Lovecraft oc&canon ask! Our goal is to gather a big and friendly community for fun and entertainment.

In our ask, you can take a role of a canon character or your oc. We are glad to see all kind of art and text answers. Just choose one and contact me @scientific-dog or @aromatenmalen to join our family!

1. English is the main language in our ask. If you don’t speak fluently, it’s ok, you may write us – we can help you with translating and editing.

2. You have unlimited amount of roles you can take. If you handle it, of course! Role can be taken by more than one person.

3. We have NO deadlines. Our opinion is that art should be free and unbound. We don’t want our ask to be a job. We will not kick you out if you are absent for months. Take your time and be back when you will feel comfortable to continue. But please, remember, that as soon as you joined us, the subscribers would like to see your activity.

4. Please, be polite with all other participants.

5. The text volume should not be less than 200 words, art should be in a good quality and all the text on it should be readable.

DETAILS

1. To apply your answer, contact @scientific-dog and @aromatenmalen. We will post your art/text manually.

2. To ask the question use the ask box. PLEASE, if you see that we have more than one person answering for this character, indicate the particular author you want to ask. We can have MORE than one creator per character.

3. If you want to apply, you must have a character welcoming post . This is your first and the most important work where you have to express briefly your opinion and statement about the character. You may draw a small comic, or art which explains your persona, or art and text both. It should contain: your character name, art/text/both, and your contacts you wish to be described: insta, twitter, telegram etc.

4. You may ask common questions, which is not directed to certain one, and which could be used by different authors for their characters

MEET OUR CHARACTERS!

And stay tuned for the welcoming posts...

CANON:

@aromatenmalen: Hastur, Howard Lovecraft

@slepoepyatno: Richard Upton Pickman, Nyarlathotep

@aeternal-nightmare: Nephren-Ka, Titus Crow

@shapter-draws: Randolph Carter, Henri-Laurent de Marigny

OC:

@ramalakeven: Jesslyn

@makosxa: Yisthigas, Eddie, Kattho-Ha, Shaxa, Emmanuel Wynn de Llewellyn

@scientific-dog: Vivian Stokes, Watson van der Berg, Daniel Heilman, Derek Kennet

#Lovecraft #lovecrafian #ask #art #text #cthulhu mythos #oc #original character #artist on tumblr

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torreshalstead · 4 months

Text

On a crowded street in 1944

Summary - The four walls of Upton’s General Store were all Hailey knew although she longed to see what else life had to offer. When a handsome soldier walks through the door, she thinks he might just be the answer to the life she wants to have. But it was 1944 and the country was at war. Would fate smile on her or would her heart be another casualty of the war?

Chapters - 4/15

Notes - Happy Saturday folks! Hope you enjoy this chapter ❤️ AO3 Link

‘Hailey!’ Her father’s voice bounced loudly up the stairs, ricocheting off the walls and into Hailey’s room. She groaned audibly and buried her head further under the blankets. She’d been in the middle of a dream, a perfect dream filled with soft lips and emerald green eyes. ‘Hailey!’ His voice was louder now, his displeasure obvious, so she decided it wasn’t worth the effort of trying to get back to her dream world and potentially suffer her fathers bad mood.

He hadn’t been home when she had snuck back in last night, his business meeting clearly running long. That was usually a good thing but his tone right now didn’t indicate that the meeting had necessarily reached a positive conclusion. She was thankful she had been able to slip back into their apartment unnoticed, her mother had fallen asleep on the couch, the pants she had been darning draped over her lap, the sewing box open on the floor. Hailey’s cheeks were still warm when she tucked herself into bed, her fingers still tracing her lips remembering the feeling of Jay’s pressed softly against them.

She flung the blanket off herself and called back down to him that she would just be a moment, tugging on a pair of slippers and her dressing gown - the sun had barely risen so the store wasn’t due to be open for another hour or so, so she had plenty of time to get dressed before her shift started.

‘Spending your money on books again,’ her father said with a scoff, gesturing at a newspaper wrapped package that was sitting on the counter. Her father was the sort of man who didn’t understand reading for pleasure, though he didn’t seem to understand reading for the pursuit of knowledge either. She didn’t know when she had last seen him open a book for either purpose. But Hailey adored both. She loved getting lost in a fictional world created by somebody’s mind, but she also loved learning all about things that non-fiction books contained. The world was so much larger than just this store and the people on this street and Hailey wanted to find out everything she could. Knowledge was power, she’d read that somewhere when she was younger and had taken it to heart as she devoured whatever books she could get her hands on.

‘Pardon?’ She said, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes in confusion. She hadn’t asked Mrs Smith to put anything aside recently, nor had she been contacted to say there was anything the store owner couldn’t sell. But despite that, her father seemed to be correct, the package sitting on the side looked mighty like a book. It was the correct size and shape, even with the newspaper wrapping covering its contents.

‘It’s got your name on it,’ her father said, his tone suddenly turning accusatory at Hailey’s apparent lack of knowledge of the package’s contents.

‘Oh,’ Hailey said, shaking her head slightly to wake herself up. ‘Yes,’ she said thinking quickly. ‘Mrs Smith had another delivery that she couldn’t sell some of the books so she said she’d put one side for me, this must be it.’ Hailey smiled and picked up the package. It wasn’t Mrs Smith’s handwriting that had scrawled Hailey on the top right hand corner between the printed text, her father didn’t pay much attention to things like that though. They didn’t affect his bottom line so he didn’t care.

‘That woman must think we are a charity case,’ he grunted. The last thing her father wanted to be seen as was unsuccessful in this town, his pride was too important to him for that.

‘She just knows I like books,’ Hailey said with a small smile, clutching the book tightly against her chest. She didn’t know for certain whose writing it was but something made her want to hold on just a little tighter as if at any moment her father might reach out and snatch it away.

‘Well just make sure you pick them up from her in the future, don’t be making her bring them down here and leave them on the doorstep,’ he huffed, turning back to the ledger he had been studying intently when she had walked in, his brow furrowed deeply.

‘Of course father, I’ll just go put it upstairs and get ready then I’ll be back down to open up,’ she smiled again, this time a little forced but she turned on her heel when he grunted in response.

The package had been left on the doorstep? Then it definitely wasn’t from Mrs Smith. She had a bad knee and always told Hailey she could never walk anywhere before midday as it took so long to warm up. Hailey didn’t know how much truth there was to that but still, you never saw Mrs Smith outside of her shop until after the church bell had chimed for 12 o’clock.

Tucking the package under her arm Hailey took the stairs two at a time, desperate to get to the relative privacy of her bedroom. Closing the door quickly behind her, kicking off her slippers and tucking her legs up under her as she took a seat on the bed, she looked again at the package in her hand.

The Hailey was written neatly at the top. If she had to guess, she would say it was a man’s writing - it was missing a certain curled aspect that a woman’s penmanship tended to have. Her heart quickened, there was only one member of the opposite sex who might give her a book and even the possibility of that set her alight.

Undoing the wrapping, which was the newspaper from yesterday, she recognised the headline, making sure not to rip through her own name, a book fell onto her lap along with an envelope.

The book was not one Hailey had read but one she had seen at the bookstore for years and had wanted to get her hands on; it was one of Agatha Christie’s novels, The Mysterious Affair at Styles. The copy was worn, the edges starting to fray and the pages discoloured from being thumbed through many times. She opened the cover and her heart jumped into her mouth.

Dearest Hailey,

It’s not a new book, and I’ll buy you one one day, but it’s the only book I own.

And now it is yours,

Forever,

Jay

Her eyes stung with tears as she clutched the book to her chest.

She hadn’t been dreaming about what she had felt yesterday, and he felt the same.

He had given her the only book he owned, a book he clearly loved judging from the state of it. In the final few hours he had before he left for war, left to fight for their country, heading into unknown danger, he spent it delivering a book to her.

Part of her wondered if he gave it to her so she wouldn’t forget him, but how could she ever forget him. You could never forget someone who made you feel like that, who kissed you like that, who filled your dreams the way he had last night.

Wiping away an escaped tear with her finger tip, she gently closed the book, brushing her fingers across the front, she left it on her lap as she picked up the envelope.

She let out a wet chuckle, it was one of the envelopes she had sold him the day before. She opened it and pulled out a single sheet of note paper.

Dearest Hailey,

I hope this isn’t overstepping, you said I could write to you after all and I couldn’t wait.

I wanted to give you something to remember our evening together, it’s my favourite book. My only book. I don’t know if you’ve read it and it’s not the romantic novel you want to give to the girl who stole your heart in a single evening, but it’s all I have. I’ll buy you the romantic novel when I return, it will be brand new and you will be the one to break the spine.

I just told you you stole my heart. It is true. It is yours and I hope when I come back, it will still be yours. I know I shouldn’t have asked to kiss you last night. A girl like you deserves more than a kiss under a street light but I couldn’t help myself. The feeling of your lips on mine will keep me safe over there.

I am running out of time and running short of paper so I will say farewell for now. I look forward to your reply and will treasure the words you write.

Forever Yours,

Jay

Hailey was frozen, her eyes still fixed on the page. It was only when a tear splashed onto the paper that she realised she was crying. Sniffing and wiping her eyes, not wanting to stain the letter with anymore tears and smudge the ink, she folded up the letter and tucked it safely into the book.

Getting off the bed, she tucked it under the mattress. She kept all of her important possessions under the mattress away from prying eyes and that book and its letter had just become her most prized belongings.

Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think someone would feel that way about her and want to write such tender and heartfelt things. She wanted to write back to him immediately but her heart skipped a beat when she realised she would need to wait for another letter to know where she should be sending it to. He hadn’t included his troop and obviously he didn’t know his destination yet either.

Still, she would write something and as soon as she knew where to send it she would run to the post office and get it mailed off.

The urge to get the letter back out and reread the words he had written, run her fingers across the ink and imagine him writing it that morning, was so strong. However her mother could walk in at any second and she was needed down at the store. She would have to wait until the evening to spend some more time with his letter, with him.

She tried to focus during the day, to be the useful sales assistant she usually was but her mind was still upstairs replaying the words that he had written to her. She wanted to hold the letter against her chest, close to her heart and never let it go. She wanted to read the book and imagine him holding the same book he had held, the fingers that had touched those pages had touched her too.

When the store quietened down in the early afternoon she let herself continue the day dream, praying she wouldn’t have to wait long for the next letter. She needed to hear from him again more than she had needed anything else before in her short life.

#upstead #hailey upton #jay halstead #chicago pd #upstead fic #hailey x jay #chicago pd fanfiction #upstead fanfic #one chicago #chicago pd fanfic #upstead fanfiction #chicago pd fic #upstead forever

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

Text

Hey besties.

So thanks to an influx of new followers and from different fandoms and interesting requests I’ve been getting I figured it was needed to repost this.

Things I WILL NOT write for:

-Non con or even CNC

-Age gaps. (Realistic ones are fine. But i refuse to do 18 year old super genius yn who graduated Harvard already and 40+ year old character falls in love with them).

-Basically YN under the age of 30. I’m in my mid 30’s and most people in the industries that my fics involve would be in that age rage, or late 20’s at best if you’re looking under, go elsewhere.

-Underage yn’s. If you want a fic where yn is the chlld this is NOT the place.

-stories involving losing virginities. While i may write someones first experience with the the same sex, or a specific style, i do not write virgin characters

-pregnant y/n’s. It’s very rare I will accept requests involving pregnancy

-Male yn’s. Nothing against it but as a female, esp when it comes to smut I’m uncomfortable writing it.

-Same goes for medical conditions. There are certain that I am familiar with or are easier to research or I have close friends who can give insight to, otherwise i feel like I’m not doing it justice and also dont want to offend. Dm or send an ask if you have specific questions.

WHO I Write For:

(just because there is someone on my masterlist does not mean i still write for them. i only write this list.)

Law and Order(SVU/OC/ OG)

-Rita Calhoun, Casey Novak, Elizabeth Donnelly, Alex Cabot, Grace Muncy, Tonie Churlish, Melinda Warner, Pippa Cox, Sonya Paxton, Amanda Rollins, Peter Stone, Mike Dodds, Joe Velasco, Sonny Carisi, Rafael Barba, Terry Bruno.

-Ayanna Bell, Samantha Maroun

-Calex, Barhoun, Calvak, Novelly, Benhoun.

Criminal Minds:

Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Alex Blake, Tara Lewis, Aaron Hotchner

House of Cards:

Heather Dunbar, Jackie Sharp

-Duckie (heather x jackie)

Homeland:

Elizabeth Keane

Grey’s Anatomy/Private Practice:

-Addison Montgomery, Amelia Shepherd, Charlotte King

NCIS:

Abigail Borin, Anthony Dinozzo

Chicago PD:

Hailey Upton, Kim Burgess, Erin Lindsay, Kevin Atwater

DM/Ask box for taglists!

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therine-watches · 1 year

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a Recommendation - 19 Top Films to Watch on Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day isn’t always about a box of chocolate or couple photos bombarding your feed all day; sometimes, it’s about snuggling under the covers with either your loved ones or love one, watching a comfort movie that makes you feel giddy both in the inside and outside.

Here is a (very long) list, categorized from cliche to not-really-romance-but-romance, of the best rom-com films you could watch on Valentine’s Day:

Well-Known But Not Overrated: from the 00s to the 20s - here are all the romcoms you may or may not have heard.

1. Set It Up (2018) Starring Zoey Deutch and Glen Powell, alongside Lucy Liu and Taye Diggs, Set It Up is a fun New York-based romantic comedy on the spiral of two overworked assistants setting up their bosses.

2. Definitely, Maybe (2008) Nothing weirder than hearing about your parents having a life before you: Definitely, Maybe is a tale of three romantic stories and one mother mystery.

3. Love, Rosie (2014) Starring two rom-com sweethearts Lily Collins and Sam Claflin, Love Rosie is the original formulaic film of the ultimate childhood best friends to lovers + right person, wrong time trope.

4. Emma (2019) With the perfect combination of wit, set, cast, and story, Emma is the perfect love letter to Jane Austen and fans of Regency Romance.

5. The Half of It (2019) Small town and big romance: The Half of It is a quiet yet impactful film on coming-of-age, friendships, and high school crushes.

6. Miss Congeniality (2000) A perfect mixture of comedy and romance, Miss Congeniality will win your heart with the classic undercover cop story.

7. To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018) Carrying the charm and chemistry of a teenage rom-com, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before takes an overused trope of fake relationships and makes it its own, with an unforgettable classic high school love tale.

8. The Vow (2012) Changing the entire course of two people’s lives in one accident, The Vow, based on a true story, is a heartbreaking film on love and grief.

A Bit More Than Boy Meets Girl not so much of romance as connecting with friends or yourself; these movies are perfect for movie nights with friends or if simply you’re not in the mood for a classic rom-com:

9. Laggies (2014) Starring Kiera Knightly, Sam Rockwell, and Chloe Grace Moretz, Laggies is a tale not only of unexpected love but the reality of feeling like lagged in your 20s.

10. The Other Woman (2014) The Other Woman is about the other woman, starring the golden comedy trio Cameron Diaz, Leslie Mann, and Kate Upton, as they set up for the perfect revenge.

11. Paper Towns (2015) In the classic John Green tale of small-town high school and daydreaming for the manic pixie girl, Paper Towns is a tale of friendship and growing up, with a bittersweet ending that feels more real than the classic Disney happily ever after.

12. The Way Way Back (2013) With a ridiculously talented cast, The Way Way Back is a classic comedic and bittersweet summer beach film of love, parenthood, and friendships, all while coming of age in a world that doesn’t always go your way.

13. The Edge of Seventeen (2016) Hilarious but uncomfortably too true to every teenager at one point, is a perfect film for both depth and comedy, dealing in the themes of betrayal, love, friendship, teenage angst, and loss.

Classics to Re-Binge - or Finally Get Around To Watching It from the 90s to the 10s, created in the classic formula of wit, charm, iconic-ness, and of course: romance and comedy

14. How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003) Perhaps one of the most famous rom-com of the 21st century, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days is exactly as the title suggests; even in the two decades since its release, the film remains fresh, original, and hilariously sharp in the rom-com film department.

15. The Proposal (2009) In the ultimate fake relationship trope, The Proposal is a classic New York-to-small-town romance, unforgettably delivered by Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds.

16. 13 Going on 30 (2004) 13 Going on 30 achieves every 13-year-old girl’s dream; the film centralizes around the youthful and comedic 13-year-old-stuck-in-30-year-old body tale with just the perfect amount of true romance.

17. Crazy Rich Asians (2018) Heartwarming and a feast to the eyes of cinematography, costumes, and score, Crazy Rich Asians is the story of Rachel Chu entering the world of crazy rich Asians, and her fight for her true love.

18. 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) In the perfect combination of romance and comedy, 10 Things I Hate About You is a classic in fake-relationship-turned-true-love, starring both the brilliant Julia Stiles and Heath Ledger.

and of course: 19. Valentine’s Day (2010) Starring the biggest names of rom-com from Julia Roberts to Anne Hatheway to Jennifer Garner, Valentine’s Day is a film of multiple love stories all interconnected, set in no other date but Valentine’s Day.

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imjustwritingg · 4 months

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Another PSA…

This is my inbox currently.

This is why I haven’t responded to you…for all the “why haven’t you answered me” or the word-for-word duplicate asks I keep getting. I can only respond to so many in a day and when I do, it’s like I post one and get five more in return.

Chances are if I haven’t answered you it’s because I just haven’t gotten to it yet, I already answered it in another similar ask, or I don’t think it needs to be posted.

Please be patient with me. 💜

#chicago pd #ask box #anon asks #hailey upton #upstead

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blris96 · 2 years

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I don't watch Chicago pd but its all over twitter about Jay's change of character. Isn't he just going undercover and that's why he's acting odd? Dunno when he's leaving everyone saying today's episode but I read an article saying they were working on episode 8/9 trying to write his exit 🤷‍♀️

Hi lovely anon!

I truly have no clue. I honestly think Jesse’s last episode is tomorrow night, but we’ll see. I hope they give us something plausible for all of this, but I’m not holding my breath.

I don’t play in this sandbox much on this account or post much about Upstead much on this account, but I, along with a majority of the Upstead fandom hate what they’ve done with Jay. It’s 10 years of character development down the drain. He has been very out of character. There is no world in that Jay would go off book. There is no world in that Jay would be buddies with Voight and blowing off Hailey to go to a bar with him. Jay hates how Voight does things and now they have them being buddies?? Yeah, no.

I’m actually kind of scared how they’re going to write him off. If he hasn’t been in character now, I don’t even want to know what they’ll do next.

#B Answers Questions #ask box #jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #chicago pd

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thestressedsimmer · 4 months

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Olive's plan for dealing with Camilla's fears was to ask Upton to let her take his horse out for her morning rides. Olive has been close to Adeline from when she was young - she has made her flower crowns from when she was six years old and even made a ribbon that was tied around her tail.

Adeline also adored Camilla. She was one of the only people who has never gotten bucked off and she would allow to hug her. The bond between a girl and her first horse is strong.

Their rides are long. Exercise for the horse and a chance to think for the girl. It was also a chance to not be around anyone. No tutors, no parents, no minders. . .

Just herself. After one of her rides, she made it back home. . . only to be surprised by a house full of people. There was a party planned for her birthday!

She cheerfully said hello to all of the guests. Her future husband was there, along with his brother the king, the queen, several people from the church, and other nobles. Volkivia was also there, although under the guise of a servant.

Elanor was one of the first to give Camilla her gift. It was new dresses, all in beautiful teals and golds, but there was also a note inside. It details how she was arranged to her husband when they were young, still teenagers themselves, and they have a beautiful relationship with four children.

How she could never imagine loving anybody more or having a better partner through the ups and downs in life. It also detailed how terrified she had been. How she had feared that he would be a horrid man behind the scenes. . . But she kept faith in the Watcher, her parents, and the king and everything worked out.

Sister Emma de Ebor gifted her with a copy of the Holy Book. Something to help guide her as she shapes into a proper lady of the court and no longer a child.

Father Walter de Stapleton gave her a holy candle to burn by her bed. To stave off disease - especially since he understood that she had health problems of her own and her mother had complicated pregnancies. The thoughtfulness almost brought a tear to her eye.

Finally, Thomas meekly approached her. She was surprised how nervous he seemed to speak to her. While they were given nobility and her father was respected. . . they weren't of royal blood. Which made their nobility lesser, at least that's what she heard from the other noble children most of her life.

"Happy birthday, my lady." He said, after taking a deep breath. . .

Inside the box was a health tonic. While that in itself was already appreciated, there was also a note rolled up beside it. When she opened it, her cheeks went red and quickly placed it back inside. It said:

"To my future wife,

I know that we are not strangers, but I also understand we are not yet friends. I am sure you have many doubts about who I am or what expectations I have of you. Let me reassure you, I have none.

We have the privilege of getting to know each other as we wait for your dowry to be ready. Although I wouldn't worry about that too much - my brother and sister-in-law are giving you 20,000 simoleans for your birthday so that should help you with the amount you need.

If it were up to me? I would marry you for free.

Love eternally, Your future husband."

After reading this, she grabbed Thomas by his arm and tugged him to the side. They spent the rest of the night chatting about almost everything. . . and he shamelessly flirted with her the whole night.

She had never considered herself particularly beautiful. . . But she still managed to catch a prince's eye.

#REALLY need that gift box override guys #I just haven't really had the chance to look #please ignore the bright wrappings and pretend they are historical instead #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 ultimate decades challenge #ultimate decades challenge #udc #morbid's ultimate decades challenge #windenberg #1314 #1314 windenberg #glasse family

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grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks · 1 year

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Martin wakes before dawn in an enormous four-poster bed. Aesthetically, the bed is wonderful – it’s quite a bit older than what usually fits into Martin’s ‘retro aesthetic,’ but he has to admire the artistry of its elegantly carved wooden frame – but it’s a bit too old to be truly comfortable, and Martin can feel an ache in his shoulder that he can already tell will be bothering him all day. Waking up is still novelty enough, though, irrespective of the bed. He hasn’t actually needed to sleep since the world ended, and ever since he and Jon began their grim little road trip, he’s mostly eschewed it in favor of marching endlessly toward London.

He rolls over, and startles at the sight of Jon laying wide-eyed beside him, dark eyes staring sightlessly out at Martin. It isn’t the first time he’s seen Jon sleep with his eyes open, but it will never cease to be unsettling.

Once Martin convinces his frayed nerves that Jon is just sleeping and not dead, he can appreciate the sight for what it is – cute, albeit in a decidedly creepy way. Jon’s face is smushed flat against the mattress with an expression of perfect contentment, jaw slack and brow, for once, unfurrowed, and his hair fans out around his head in a silver-streaked halo. Martin nudges his shoulder.

“Jon.”

Jon grimaces at having his sleep disturbed, but otherwise does not respond.

“Jon,” Martin repeats.

“Mmmph,” Jon mumbles against his pillow. “‘M sleeping.”

Martin glances at the clock beside the bed, and decides to let Jon sleep. They’ve still got some time.

He doesn’t want to risk falling back asleep himself, though, so he drags himself out of bed and stretches, trying with only marginal success to stir some energy in his tired limbs. He shuffles groggily towards the door, but pauses before he leaves. He brushes a strand of hair out of Jon’s face and presses a kiss to his forehead, and Jon is just awake enough to quirk his lips up into a quick, sleepy smile.

Instinct guides Martin to move through the hallways as quietly as he can, padding with extreme caution across the ancient carpet runners. It’s tricky to navigate in the dark, and Martin can’t even begin to guess where the light switches might be, so he also moves quite slowly.

In some ways the darkness is reassuring. After so long spent in the hazy grey twilight of the post-apocalypse under the vast white sclera of the Eye – their time beneath its unflinching gaze broken up only by stints in a few Dark domains – it’s a relief to see the blue-tinted gloom of early morning in a place where time still functions properly.

It’s also unsettling, though, due in part to memories of the aforementioned Dark domains and in part to the knowledge that Salesa and Annabelle Cane are somewhere in the building. Every time Martin turns a corner or opens a door, he expects to see Annabelle lurking there, poised to tell him something cryptic or menacing or both. He never encounters her, but that doesn’t ease his nerves. A house this old and this huge must be harboring more than its fair share of spiders, he knows.

He only breathes easier when he gets to the kitchen and begins the familiar, soothing process of making tea. After setting the kettle on the stove, he pokes through the cupboards. There’s a box of tea in his rucksack, of course, but he’s curious about the selection in Upton House. He finds quite a few boxes, alongside some poorly labelled (though admittedly very pretty) tins of loose leaf. These he examines closely, peering inside and sniffing each one until he finds a blend he thinks will be both well-caffeinated and appropriately fancy. He debates with himself about how much cream and sugar to add before making the tea according to Jon’s preferences, because sometimes love means sacrifice (and sometimes love means drinking tea that’s way too sweet). Then he pours the whole thing into his thermos and heads back upstairs. On his way, he stops at the linen closet and squints into the shadows until he finds a blanket that he’s fairly certain isn’t an antique.

Jon is still asleep when he gets back to the bedroom. Martin nudges him again.

“Wake up, dear.”

“Mmmm…” Jon rolls over and presses his face into his pillow so that Martin can't hear what he says next, though he thinks he can catch the words “don’t wanna.”

“We have plans, remember?”

Jon mumbles something that he probably thinks is a succinct and well-reasoned rebuttal, but Martin can’t make out a word of it.

“Come on.” He gives Jon’s shoulder a light shove, rolling him over onto his back. Jon grumbles a bit at this mistreatment. “Last night you said, and I quote, ‘No matter what I say tomorrow morning, make sure I wake up. I don’t want to miss this.’”

“Did I say that?”

“You did.”

“Well, ‘m and idiot.”

Martin sighs and grabs Jon’s arms. He doesn’t pull hard – it’s a maneuver that relies entirely on Jon’s cooperation, and despite his protests, Jon cooperates. He’s on his feet for only a second before he lets himself fall forward and buries his head in Martin’s shoulder.

“Jus’ let me sleep here…” he murmurs into Martin’s shirt. Martin indulges him for just a moment.

“Come on,” he says, shaking Jon off. “If we miss it, we’ll have to go through this whole ordeal again tomorrow.”

That’s enough to get Jon to finally straighten his back and follow Martin out the door.

Jon seems just as nervous in the hallway as Martin. He’s slipped his hand into Martin’s on instinct, and every time a floorboard creaks, it twitches against his palm.

“Do you think she’s awake?” Martin whispers, voicing what they’ve both been thinking. Then he muses, “Do… Do spiders sleep?”

“I looked that up once,” Jon responds in a low murmur, eyes darting between the shadows. “Scientists haven’t answered that question nearly as conclusively as you’d think.”

Martin doesn’t ask Jon why he researched the circadian rhythms of spiders, though he does wonder to himself whether it has anything to do with his spider trauma or if it’s just because Jon is, affectionately, a massive nerd.

The sky has already started to lighten by the time they get outside, turning a delicate shade of periwinkle, though thankfully, the sun still remains firmly below the horizon. Martin is a bit disappointed to see they’ve missed most of the stars, but the bright pinprick of Venus is still visible for the time being.

The grounds of Upton House are rounded on all sides by hedges and low walls, but there is a hill behind the main house from which they should have an unobstructed view of the horizon, so they head there.

Martin hands Jon the thermos while he spreads out the blanket. In this light, he’s less certain that it isn’t antique, and he feels a bit guilty for laying it out on the mud, but he reminds himself that it is, in fact, the apocalypse, so he can probably break a few rules. Once he’s satisfied with the blanket’s placement, in a little nook between the roots of a squat old tree, he sits down and pats the space next to him, inviting Jon to join him on the blanket. Jon is only too happy to oblige.

It’s a cold morning, but they have their tea to keep them warm. When Jon takes his first sip, he smiles fondly and gives an appreciative little hum, and it’s enough to make up for the way Martin’s own taste buds protest whenever he drinks.

The sunrise happens slowly. It’s subtle at first, a barely-perceptible lightening at the edge of the horizon, then suddenly the sky’s become a gradient, pitch black in the west and pale, soft blue in the east. Then the first weak rays of yellow sunlight peak above the skyline, making the banks of mist that snake around Upton House sparkle and glow a faint and fragile gold.

Martin can’t remember the last time he’s seen a sunrise. Even before the world ended, even when he still regularly saw the sun, it wasn’t as though he went out of his way to watch it. At the cabin, he and Jon had floated the idea of waking up early some day to watch the sun come up – sunrise must have been spectacular in the highlands – but they’d never gotten around to it. They thought they had time.

Martin’s glad they’ve made time now.

Jon sets down his tea and watches the dawn. The weak morning light halos his face and makes the grey streaks in his hair shine like well-polished steel.

“Beautiful…” he sighs.

“Worth the trouble of waking up?” Martin asks, prodding Jon lightly with his elbow, and Jon laughs.

“I suppose.”

The birds are beginning to stir, and Martin hadn’t realized how much he missed the sound of birds until he hears them chirping. For just a moment, the world feels normal again.

They’ll have to leave this behind soon. In a matter of days, probably, they’ll have to go back out into the world where day and night and sun and stars are all replaced by the cold, unending stare of the Eye.

“You could stay here, you know,” Jon says out of nowhere. “Sleep in an actual bed, watch the sun rise in the morning…”

“You could, too,” Martin says. Jon starts to protest, but Martin cuts him off. “Yeah, I know, I know, you can’t spend too long cut off from the Eye, but you could go back and forth. Leave the bubble once a week or so, top up on your horrors, and then come back. It’s an option.”

Jon looks out at the still-rising sun, mulling over his words. When he turns back to Martin, he studies his face with a very serious expression.

“Would you want that?”

“No.” Martin wants to say that he could never be happy here, knowing what was happening to the rest of the world, but who knows, really? The past few days have been really nice, all things considered, and there’s a large, selfish part of him that never wants to leave the four-poster bed and the chirping birds and the truly impressive selection of tea. Given enough time, maybe he could shove his guilt into some distant corner at the back of his mind and learn to enjoy himself. But it wouldn’t be right, and he knows it.

“What about you?” he asks, and Jon shakes his head without hesitation.

“You were right, before. I– I still don’t know if we can fix this, but if there’s even a chance we can, we have to try… I-I have to try,” he corrects himself after a second. “You could stay here. I mean it. I would understand.”

Martin shakes his head. Jon shuffles closer and lets his head fall against Martin’s shoulder. After a moment, Martin shuffles, too, until his legs are bracketing Jon’s and his arms are pressing him gently to his chest. They sit like that in silence, watching the sunrise, as the chill autumn breeze ruffles their hair.

Martin leans back against the tree. Jon leans back against Martin.

“How long do you think we have?” Martin asks. Jon’s been hiding it well, but he can tell that being away from the Eye is already taking its toll. Martin sometimes catches him staring out at nothing with a hazy, vacant expression, and he didn’t miss the way Jon got winded from the short walk up this hilll.

“A few days,” Jon says. “A week at the most. Then we’ll have to go back out there.” Martin can’t quite keep in his sigh, and Jon rubs reassuringly at his knuckles. “Still,” he says gently, “At least this time it’s our choice.”

“I hate our choices.”

Jon attempts a laugh, but it’s a weak, half-hearted thing. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“At least this choice means I might get to kill Elias.”

This time, Jon really does laugh. “You’ve been very murderous lately.”

“What a shock,” Martin says. He doesn’t roll his eyes because he knows Jon wouldn’t be able to see it from where he’s sitting, but he’s certain his voice conveys the message that he wants to roll his eyes. “The apocalypse has put me in a bit of a bad mood.” They both ignore the fact that Martin is very clearly not in a bad mood right now. Jon just gives a fond, distracted hum, then grows serious.

“We still don’t know if Elias – Jonah – even can be killed at this point.”

“I know, Jon! Just let me have this.”

The sun has risen in earnest now, staining the horizon a brilliant orange. A few low clouds have gathered, and they are painted in intense high-contrast, orange light against purple shadow.

As they watch the sun burn away the last remaining wisps of fog, Jon says, “I do hope you get to kill that old man.”

“That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” Martin replies, and though he can’t see it, he gets the distinct impression that Jon is rolling his eyes.

He sits up, out of Martin’s embrace, to pick up the thermos and take a sip of tea. When he settles back against Martin’s chest, Martin leans forward to press a kiss to the side of his neck.

“I love you, you know.”

“I know,” Jon whispers back. “I love you, too.”

They stay sat there, beneath the tree, well after the sun comes up, well after their tea has grown cold and the gentle chirping of the birds has crescendoed into a maddening din. When it starts to get a bit warmer, Martin stretches out across the blanket like a cat in a sunbeam, and Jon follows suit, laying his head on Martin’s chest and threatening to doze off into another unnerving, wide-eyed sleep.

They both know they don’t want to leave. They both know that they’ll have to. There’s nothing more to be said.

For the moment, though, there is an ancient blanket spread out under an ancient tree, and the warmth of a real sun on their skin.

(View this work on AO3)

#tma fanfic #tma fic #upton house #upton house fic #do not archive #jonmartin fic #i never know how to tag these istg #long post

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fighterkimburgess · 2 years

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Officer Down

Summary: After an explosion rips through a box truck in a parking lot, Hailey Upton doesn’t wake up immediately.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: injuries, medical tests, talk of needles and blood.

Wanna join my taglist?

AN: If anyone had “Cíara writes an upstead fic” in their hiatus bingo, let me know. You should probably buy a lotto ticket.

—

The ringing in his ears began to fade as Jay sat up, the world covered in grey smoke. Turning his head too quickly was almost painful, but his mind was focused on one thing. Where was his wife?

“HAILEY!” He screamed, vision finally coming back fully as he looked around. The truck was blown to pieces, twisted scorched metal dotted around the lot. He thought there was a car alarm going off, but he wasn’t sure. “HAILEY!”

There was no response, and Jay made himself stand and survey the scene. She’d been just behind him. But now she was twenty yards away and he was running, losing his balance as he tried sprinting to her with a spinning head and aching heart.

“Hailey, Hailey. Hailey, wake up. Wake up!” She was too still, but her pulse was steady under her too pale skin. He grabbed out his multiway, the Intelligence only radio ignored as he fiddled with the channel.

“50-21 George there’s been an explosion at the parking lot at West Addison and California. 10-1, officer down. Roll an RA to our location right now, she’s unconscious.” His fingers never left Hailey’s neck, her pulse easing his worries. “Hailey, are you with me? Wake up, Hail, c’mon. Wake up.”

He was too afraid to shake her with the blow she’d taken, worried about how her back could have been injured. Instead with one hand he picked up his secure radio, Voight screaming into it.

“Sarge! Hailey’s been hurt. There was an explosion, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Is she awake? Jay, is she awake?” He could barely hear his sergeant’s question over the fear in his head but he shook it.

“She’s unconscious. Ambo is on the way, we’re closer to Rush but I’ll get them to bring us to Med. She’s not waking up.”

“It’s Upton, she’s going to be fine. Stay with your wife. We’ll stay on Escano, Hailey needs you.”

“I’ll keep you updated.”

The roar of the ambulance finally arrived, along with CFD’s finest. And in this case he was so lucky it was people he knew from 51 arriving, hoses in hand to knock back the fire from the explosion. Mikami and a stranger came running over with the backboard, shock on Mikami’s face.

“Halstead, what happened?”

“There was an explosion, a case we were working our CI got burned. Hailey got the brunt. Violet…” It was the first time he’d used the paramedic’s first name, and he saw immediately how it affected her.

“You’re coming with us, you’re injured too. I’m assuming you want Med?”

“Please?” Jay never begged, never asked questions, but when it was to get Hailey the best care he’d do anything.

“But Rush is closest to—“ The paramedic he didn’t know began to speak, but Violet interrupted her.

“Detective Halstead’s brother is an attending at Med, and this is said detective’s wife. If we don’t bring her to Med she’ll get transferred across. It’s better continuity of care.” She paused, finishing her survey and putting a c-collar on his still unconscious wife. “Go get the backboard on the other side. STELLA! We need you for a roll.”

Jay watched as one of his wife’s friends came over, dawning horror on her face as she realised it was Hailey lying there.

“Halstead…what…what can I do?”

“Just help her. Please.”

He watched them roll her on and strap her in, the rest of Stella’s truck crew running as gently as possible with Hailey to get her into the ambulance. Jay followed, pats on his back and squeezes to his arm as he got in from the people he knew.

“Let me know what happens,” Stella said, the last one to give him a squeeze as he got in.

“You know I will. She’ll kill me if I don’t.”

The doors shut and Stella hit them, the new paramedic setting off with the sirens going.

“Where’s Brett?” Jay asked, watching as Violet put a mask on Hailey, gauze on the cuts on her face.

“Put this on your cheek, you’re bleeding.” She handed him a wad of gauze and he followed her instructions, wincing at the ache the pressure gave him. “She’s in Oregon. Jacobs is my temporary partner while she’s gone. She’ll be back soon.”

It was clear she didn’t want conversation and Jay stayed quiet in the rig as Violet worked. Hailey was still unconscious as they pulled into Med, the doors opening to reveal Maggie and Will.

“Jay. What happened?” Will went to professional mode, but Jay could see the worry in his eyes.

“Hailey Upton, 33. Caught in an explosion, she’s been unconscious since it happened.” Violet rattled off vital signs but Jay didn’t pay attention, just watching as they wheeled her into a trauma room. It was flashbacks to finding Kim, except this time he wasn’t covered in blood. She’d be fine. She had to be fine.

His stomach roiled and he ran to the bathroom, barely making it in time to bring up bile. They’d been made. His wife was in danger and he could barely breathe. If they only got six months to be married and that was it…no. He couldn’t think like that. He couldn’t.

When he was steady enough he flushed and washed his hands, arriving back out to see Hailey’s bed be wheeled to the elevator. He went to run but Will stopped him, grabbing onto his shoulders. For the first time in almost two years Jay melted into his big brother and let Will hold him, taking the strength he needed for a moment.

“How is she?” He asked when he let go, Will steering him to an empty bay.

“She’s still unconscious. We’ve sent her up for a CT and MRI to make sure everything’s ok in her spine and brain. It’s normal after a hard fall like that, so I’m not worried that she’s still out. Do we need to know anything?”

“No, nothing. She’s healthy, things are good. Things are finally good for us, Will. We’re married and happy and things are finally right. I can’t…”

“She’s going to be fine. You could have told me about the marriage though, finding out from her ring wasn’t fun and I couldn’t answer any questions.”

Jay rocked his mind back to when he’d told his brother…and he hadn’t. Between work and the new apartment and Will picking up extra shifts because of the stupid ass apartment building he’d bought they hadn’t been able to get a drink since maybe Halloween.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Good to know you can keep a secret. I need to stitch up your face, tell me what happened.”

He didn’t have Hailey there to distract him from the needles, fear gripping him. But Will kept him talking and he was able to get through it with the thought that he’d see his wife soon. He had to see her soon.

“Congratulations. I’m taking you both out for dinner when she’s ready to go. You deserve it. Do you want Mom’s ring?”

“Nah.” The thought of that ring hadn’t even hit his mind. “She didn’t even want an engagement ring. The silicone bands mean we don’t need to worry in work about anything.”

“Practical as always. We were able to leave hers on for the moment. She should be back any minute, once I get the results I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” They came out to Hailey being wheeled down and Jay was allowed sit with her. It’d been an hour and a half since everything had happened, and time had passed too quickly and not fast enough. He stayed still, holding the hand that didn’t have a cannula in it. Every part of his body wanted to leave the hospital, but it was Hailey. He wasn’t going anywhere.

A knock on the glass startled him, Ruzek there with a grave expression on his face. Jay gave the wave for him to come in, Adam taking the spare seat.

“How is she?”

“Still unconscious. Will says it’s normal, but.” He shrugged.

“If anybody knows what you’re dealing with right now, I do. And I know the rage that’s gonna hit you in about an hour, that someone could harm the person you love. And I also know that you’ll let it fester because you won’t make the stupid decisions I made.”

“I went with you for some of them.”

“Let me be wise and sage for a minute. I wanted to check in, I was driving past and thought you’d want an update. But Escano’s dead.”

“The fuck?”

“He was stabbed to death. And castrated. Anna’s missing. It’s a mess but it’s our mess. Stay here with your wife, make sure she’s ok.”

“I can…”

“Platt once told me that the worst thing to do is to wake up alone after an in the line incident. I still regret not being here last year when Kim woke up. Stay here.”

“When did she tell you that?” Jay meant it as a joke, but Adam took it seriously, eyes staring at the ceiling as he counted.

“Seven years, four months, eleven days ago. When Kim got shot by that robot gun shit. But it’s good advice.”

“Yeah. It is. Let me know what’s happening?”

“You know I will.” Ruzek stood, looking over at Hailey in the bed. “You know she’s loved you for years, right? Even when we were together, we both knew there was someone else we wanted. I’m just really glad she’s happy. You both deserve it.”

“Thank you. For all of it.” Jay rose and pulled the younger man into a hug, holding him close for a few seconds before they separated. Adam got it out of everyone, and having him there for even a few minutes meant a lot.

“I’ve gotta get back, we’re searching for whatever we can find. Voight and Platt told me to let you know that if you even think about coming back to the district they’ll individually and together kill you.” Jay actually laughed at that, a real one that made Adam smile.

“I’m not leaving. Even if it is a hospital.”

As Ruzek left with a wave, badge around his neck as he went back to work, Will arrived in with an iPad. The first thing he did was pull the c-collar from around Hailey’s neck, Jay relaxing seeing it happen.

“What’s the diagnosis?”

“Her neck and spine are fine. She’s got some cracked ribs, and she’ll have a concussion and a hell of a headache, but she’ll be fine.”

“Why isn’t she awake then?” The anger burst out of him unintentionally, staring at his brother. “If she’s ok why hasn’t she woken up?”

“How much stress are you under right now? Can you even tell me about it?” Will didn’t give him an inch, Jay staring back at him.

“No.”

“That’s why. Her body was forced to rest, so now she’s fully resting. It’s a good thing, as awkward as it can be. She’ll wake up soon. We’re gonna admit her for the night for observation, someone will be over to bring her up to the neuro ward. I got Abrams to check her scans to be sure. Ok?”

“I’m sorry. Thanks.”

“I get it.” Will squeezed his shoulder before going to leave. “I’ve to get back to work, when I’m finished I’ll come up to see you both.”

It was another forty minutes before an orderly came down to get her upstairs, Jay following them. Hailey was put into a room on her own, a view of Chicago from the window. Not that Jay even noticed it, his attention was focused on his wife in the bed.

Every twenty minutes or so he got a text from someone in his unit letting him know what was going on. They’d found the stash house and Anna was safe, Escano’s killer unknown. He could read between the lines of Burgess’s text, what she wasn’t saying but was. He didn’t care. Anna wasn’t his problem right then, his wife was his priority. Whatever happened with the case happened. He’d find out later.

Violet had put Hailey’s cannula in her right hand thanks to him insisting she was left handed so Jay got to hold her hand, pushing a kiss to her wedding ring. After the worst week of their lives, the fear that she’d be in prison or worse. The not knowing. The way Voight proved he would actually go down for one of them. He’d never trust the man how he used to - and he knew Hailey wouldn’t either - but that had meant a little to him.

“I really need you to wake up soon. I dunno how long I can wait here without your eyes open. Please?”

He stared at the tv in the corner, a random infomercial playing. How they’d found an infomercial in the early evening he had no idea, but there it was on the screen.

“Jay?” He turned too quickly, Hailey’s eyes open and a confused expression on her face.

“Hey. There was an explosion, you got hit pretty hard and you’ve been out. How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got pushed onto my back by an explosion?” Her dry humour made him laugh, Hailey grinning. He hit the call bell for the nurse, watching as the exam was done.

“A mild concussion but you got very lucky, Detective. And your husband didn’t leave your side. We’ll leave you alone for a while, and I’ll get food for you.”

She stared at Jay in shock for a moment until they were alone. “You hate hospitals.”

“And?”

“No, Jay, you hate hospitals. I had to bribe you with paying for range time to make you get a flu shot.”

“But I love you. So wherever you go, I go. Got it?”

“Got it.”

He leaned down to kiss her, breathing in the smell that was just Hailey. They were ok. That was all he cared about right now.

#Upstead #jay halstead #Hailey Upton #jay halstead x Hailey Upton #Hailey Upton x jay halstead #jay x Hailey #Hailey x jay

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