#justmypartner fics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wordsandupstead · 1 year

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I posted 245 times in 2022

That's 245 more posts than 2021!

55 posts created (22%)

190 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@upsteadlovingheart

@imjustwritingg

@i-like-sparkly-things

@a-little-bit-of-tradition

@justmypartner

I tagged 91 of my posts in 2022

#jay halstead - 28 posts

#chicago pd - 23 posts

#unsteady - 21 posts

#jay halstead fanfic - 20 posts

#hailey upton - 18 posts

#upstead - 17 posts

#jay halstead fanfiction - 14 posts

#upstead fanfic - 12 posts

#jay halstead x reader - 8 posts

#jay halstead fic - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 118 characters

#reblogging because i'm 5k into a follow up to this and trying to talk myself out of scrapping it all and starting over

My Top Posts in 2022:

working late

Weight of the World - Jay HalsteadxReader

A/n: starting this as a little mini series of blurbs. it’ll be all over the place, but i’ve always loved writing shorter freeform pieces. Y/n will remain the same as far as personality, occupation, family, etc. across the pieces but each imagine can be read as a stand alone. As always, i’d love to hear your thoughts or any feedback :)

summary: Jay's subtle way of taking care of you and looking out for you when you're stressed and unexpectedly having to work late.

words: 1.4k

warnings: references of implied child abuse (very brief reference)

Your phone buzzes on the desk in front of you causing your attention to stray from the computer monitor to the phone screen just long enough to recognize your boyfriend’s name and a new text notification. Instead of checking the message, you force your attention back to the screen, trying to remember what was said in a phone call earlier today so you can make sure to document it correctly.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzes again, another text from Jay, and this time you grab your phone, dropping it into your purse tucked away below your desk. Glancing at the numbers in the bottom right corner of the computer screen, you realize it’s 5:57pm. Shit. You were supposed to leave work almost an hour ago. You’re supposed to be at the restaurant right now for a 6pm dinner reservation with Jay.

Groaning softly, you cover your face with your hands briefly, trying to let some of the stress of the day leave your body. When that doesn’t work, you force yourself to take a deep breath. You’ve been looking forward to this dinner all week. This morning when you came into work, you were determined to leave on time. However, you were assigned a crisis shortly after 3:30pm, and everything from then until now has been a blur.

Reaching down below your desk, you dig your phone from your purse and immediately click on Jay’s contact to call him, not bothering to read any messages first. “Hey babe.” Jay’s voice floats through the phone. His calm demeanor immediately contrasts against the way you’ve been feeling all afternoon.

“Hi,” You sigh, his voice alone manages to relax you, even if just a tiny bit.

There is a pause, and you want to start apologizing because you know Jay is probably already at the restaurant, but he speaks up before you can, “What’s going on? Is it work?”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry babe. A crisis came in.” You prop the phone between your ear and shoulder, and scroll though the document you’re in the middle of drafting.

Between your job and Jay’s, you both understand that plans are usually tentative, no matter how much you wish that they could be dependable. Clocking out has never really meant clocking out for either of you, and it is something you’ve both had to accept, although it definitely wasn’t easy.

“It’s okay, just take care of what you need to.” He responds without even a hint of irritation or disappointment, probably because he knows if you heard that in his voice it would only make you feel worse.

“I’m sorry,” Despite Jay’s understanding reaction, you still feel bad. “Are you already there?”

“Don’t worry about it.” His non answer is all the answer you need.

“I’ll make it up to you. Next week, I promise!” But you both know that’s not exactly a promise you can keep. You never know if you’ll get another crisis or if intelligence will get a big case and you won’t see each other for a few days or sometimes even longer.

“You don’t have to make it up to me. It’s no big deal.” He responds, “I’ll let you get back to work. Are you the last one?”

You look around briefly. Alisha was the only one still in the office when you walked back in after returning from the crisis call, and you vaguely recall her calling out goodbye to you a while ago before leaving. “Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon.”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from apologizing again. “Talk to you soon, bye.”

“Bye babe, try not to stress too much.”

After hanging up the phone, you walk over to the break room and brew yourself a cup of coffee before returning to your desk and making your way through the mountain of paperwork while waiting for your phone to ring with your supervisor returning your call, so you can finish your documentation and finally go home to your boyfriend.

A knock sounds on the front door to the office, startling you. Alisha must have locked the door behind her on her way out, so whoever is out there can’t get in.

“Y/n, it’s me.” A muffled voice calls from the other side of the door and you immediately sigh in relief, practically jogging over to open the door.

When you pull open the door, you see your boyfriend standing with a white bag that you can only assume holds food in one hand and a drink cup in the other.

“I brought food.” He holds the bag and cup up a bit higher and your heart fills with so much love for the man in front of you. Stepping across the doorway, you wrap your arms around him, reveling in the comfort his presence brings, not to mention how grateful you are that he brought you food. If he didn’t you probably wouldn’t eat until after you finished all your paperwork and finished making the necessary calls, which could easily be after 10pm.

He holds you as best as he can with his hands full.

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252 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

Safe

Jay HalsteadxReader

summary: Y/n witnesses Jay in a life threatening situation for the first time and it affects her more than either of them expected. words: 4k warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, descriptions of anxiety and symptoms of ptsd.

“Get down, get down!” You recognize the voice before you see the person yelling. Instinctively, you listen, dropping straight to the ground and ducking behind a parked car. Your coffee that you had bought moments ago sloshes over the side of the cup at your sudden movements. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest as you watch the scene unfold in front of you. Three men are running in different directions, each holding what appears to be a gun. You can hear the gunshots ring out, and people are screaming as they all frantically try to find cover. You remain crouched on the ground, but you peek cautiously around the car. You know who you’re looking for, even if it means you’re more in danger because you’re not completely tucked away.

When your eyes find your boyfriend, you don’t feel relieved like you had hoped you would. Instead you feel more frantic and afraid because you can tell he’s mostly out in the open, pursuing the suspects. He doesn’t see you, and you intentionally don’t call out to him. He’s yelling at the guys to stop, shouting, “Chicago PD, stop!” while yelling at others to get out of the way, the same way his warning had told you to take cover without even knowing that it was you.

Everything happens in just a few seconds. More gunshots ring out and you watch Jay as he ducks behind a parked car before calling for backup. You hope that this means he’ll be safe, but before you know it, he’s running back out into the open, continuing to pursue them on foot as they turn down an alley. You feel stunned as Jay disappears from sight. The adrenaline is still coursing through your body, but suddenly you feel sick with worry.

Blue lights and loud sirens flood the area as cops and ambulances arrive on the scene. You can’t help but continue to stare at the corner of the building where you last saw Jay. You don’t know where he went or if he’s even safe. The fear and worry settles in your stomach, and as much as you want to make sure others are okay, you can’t move from your spot tucked between the rear tire of a parked car and the sidewalk. Pulling your phone from your pocket, you immediately text Jay, “Are you okay??” Is all your fingers can type. You click send and then stare at the message, just waiting for the three dots to indicate he’s typing a response. The dots don’t come.

A police officer approaches you, snapping you out of your trance. “Miss, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Shaking your head frantically, you check your phone again, still no response from Jay. “I-I’m okay, I think, but my boyfriend. I–I don’t know if he’s okay.”

“He was here with you? Was he hurt?”

“No – I mean – he was here, but not with me. He’s a cop. He was chasing the guy.”

“He’s intelligence?” The patrol cop asks, and you simply nod.

“Please, can you see if he’s okay?” You plead motioning toward the radio.

He hesitates before speaking into his radio, asking for an update on the foot chase. There is no update immediately. “Sorry miss. They don’t usually update us unless they’re calling for backup.”

You nod and thank him anyway before glancing down at your phone again. Still no response to the text. You know he’s working and he’s busy. Just because he hasn’t responded doesn’t mean he’s hurt. Even though you logically know all of this, you still click on Jay’s contact, calling him. You just need to hear his voice. You need to know he’s okay. The phone rings five times and then goes to voicemail. Although a part of you knows Jay is busy working and just because he’s not answering doesn’t mean he’s hurt, another part of you is becoming more and more frantic with every second that passes without hearing from him. The cop eventually wanders away after realizing that you’re fine and not hurt. Finally, after waiting a few more minutes, you can’t take it anymore and you call Voight, he answers on the fourth ring.

“Y/n?”

“Voight, is Jay with you? Is he okay?”

“Jay’s not with me, he’s at a scene.” Voight’s voice gives no indication that anything is going on, but you know he has to know what just happened.

“I know. I’m on fourth and central and I was here when they were shooting. I saw Jay running and they were shooting at him and he’s just gone now and he hasn’t answered his phone.” All the words tumble out of your mouth so quickly you’re not even sure Voight can understand what you were saying.

“Y/n, slow down. I’ll have Jay call you. Just hold tight.” He responds, his voice still completely calm and you wonder how he can sound like that after everything that just happened and everything you just told him.

“Okay, thank you.” You force out, barely managing to take a breath.

About a minute later, your phone is ringing. This time, it is Jay. “Are you okay?” You ask instead of saying hello.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You can hear him breathing loudly, but that’s the only indication that anything just happened. “Are you okay? Voight said to call you, what’s wrong?”

“I’m on fourth and central.” You whisper. Hearing Jay’s voice reassures you a little, but the image of him running and the guns pointed at him and then him running after them while they could turn and shoot him at any time continues to run through your mind.

There’s a beat of silence as he processes your statement and takes in what that means. “I’ll be there in three minutes.” He responds.

“Jay, are you okay?” You repeat your question, “I saw you running and they were shooting and –”

“Y/n,” he cuts you off calmly. “I’m fine. We got one and the other two got away, but I’m not hurt. I’m fine, y/n. Are you okay?”

“I just want to see you.”

You can hear the sound of his truck door slamming, then he says, “I’m almost there. I’m just a block away.”

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318 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

Worst Patient

Summary: Y/n doesn’t tell anyone she’s feeling sick and ends up fainting. Protective/worried boyfriend Jay.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: mentions of blood, injury, fainting, medical/hospital setting

Masterlist

What started out as just a headache this morning as you were leaving for work quickly turned into something more, but you have a big project due and can’t afford to go home or take a sick day, so you stick it out. At lunch time, just the thought of eating the meal you packed made your stomach turn, so you skipped it in favor of more coffee to keep yourself from falling asleep and attempt to keep your mind clear enough to focus on the work at hand.

By the time you walk out of your office after six pm, you’re feeling hot and cold all at once. Your phone rings, a facetime from Jay, and you immediately answer. When his face fills the screen, you can tell even in the little corner box, that you don’t look so good.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” His voice comes through the phone and his face suddenly fills the whole screen as he holds his phone close to his face to get a better look at yours.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just tired.” You brush off his concern with a little white lie.

“Are you sure?” He questions, and you nod. Pain shoots through the back of your head at the movement, but you quickly force your face back into a neutral expression. If Jay notices something is off, he doesn’t bring it up. “I was just calling because we caught a case so I’m stuck at work. Are you still covering at Molly’s?”

“Shit, yeah, I forgot. I’m heading over there now.” You had completely forgotten that you promised Hermann you’d cover the bar tonight with Stella so he could attend his son’s award ceremony at school.

“Y/n, are you feeling okay?” Jay’s concerned voice cuts through your thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Work was just busy and I forgot about Molly’s.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later. I’ll try to stop by if I get out of here early enough.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later,” You tell him before ending the call and walking the rest of the distance to your car. You had thrown a change of clothes in your car this morning since you knew you were going to be working at Molly’s, so you drive straight there and find Stella behind the bar.

“Y/n! Thank god you’re here. I don’t know what is going on but it seems like everyone is here tonight, and I can barely keep up.” She calls out, seemingly flustered by the crowd and amount of work to be done.

Stella wasn’t wrong. It seemed like you didn’t have a moment to catch your breath from the second you walked into the bar. You were constantly moving, despite feeling sicker and sicker by the minute, you couldn’t leave Stella alone behind the bar, so you just stuck it out.

When Jay finally walks in, you’re not even sure how late it is, but all you want is to fall asleep. He takes a seat and you place a glass of whiskey down on the bar in front of him. You can feel his eyes on you, as you turn to grab another glass for another customer.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jay jump out of his seat, and you don’t realize why even as you stumble on your feet.

“Y/n, y/n!” You can hear Jay’s voice, but when you open your eyes for a split second, the pain in your head is excruciating, and it feels like there’s ringing in your ears. You close your eyes tightly again. You just want the pain to stop. There’s more commotion around you, but you have no idea what is going on.

“Y/n, hey, can you look at me?” His voice is worried and forceful, cutting through the fog.

You force your eyes open to meet Jay’s green eyes. “Don’t move,” He warns, and only then you realize you’re surrounded by broken glass. Your right forearm stings and is dripping blood. There’s a towel on it, so you can’t see the damage, but you guess that you fell on the glass. You don’t even remember dropping the glass, but you don’t remember putting it down either.

Stella hands Jay a glass of water, and he holds the glass to your lips. “Slowly,” Jay warns, as you take a few sips.

You sit back, his arms still around you, “What happened?”

“You fainted. When was the last time you ate something?” You shrug because the truth is you don’t really remember. Jay doesn’t stop moving, he’s checking your body, examining you for glass or wounds or injuries. When you don’t give an answer, Jay asks another question, “How long have you not been feeling well?”

“All day.” That’s one answer you know for sure.

Jay sighs and shakes his head, whether with disappointment or worry, you can’t tell, and you’re feeling too out of it to try to decipher his expression. Jay carefully places your injured arm over your stomach then wraps an arm under your legs, supporting your back with his other arm as he starts to stand.

“What are you doing?” You question, but the words come out in a mumble and your head falls against his chest as he starts walking toward the exit, calling something out to Stella about how he’s taking you to Med.

“I don’t want to go to Med.” Your eyes fall closed. When Jay doesn’t respond, you plead. “Can you just take me home, please?”

“Y/n,” Jay replies, keeping his voice soothing because he knows what he’s going to say will upset you, “You fainted and there’s glass in your arm.”

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337 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

Frantic Call

Jay HalsteadxReader

summary: Y/n’s bad day just keeps getting worse, and when she can’t take it anymore, she calls Jay, crying. words: 1.5k

The sound of metal crashing against wood catches your attention and momentarily stuns you. As you turn your head to the passenger side of the car, you realize you weren’t watching that side as you backed up, and you smashed your mirror against the telephone pole outside of your house. Your heart immediately sinks to your belly.

“I gotta go!” You shout at your phone, despite hearing your brother’s confused questions coming through your cars speaker via bluetooth. He had been practically yelling at you over something that had happened between him and your mom, which is not uncommon. As the middle child, you’ve always been the mediator, even though you’re all adults with separate lives now, things somehow still come back to you, as if they expect you to sort their problems out.

Putting your car in park, you jump out and rush around to the other side. Your mirror is hanging from a cord, and the paint on the passenger side door is scraped. Part of the metal is caved in too. You force a deep breath into your lungs and try to remain composed despite wanting to burst into tears standing there on the street.

The argument your brother had with your mom left you feeling like things were already falling apart. His yelling was just enough distraction to make you forget to check over your shoulder while backing into your driveway. You always check over your shoulder, except today.

You somehow manage to hold it together enough to park your car in the driveway properly. As you get out of your car, you glance at your work phone to see a new email from your boss.

I need that incident report by tomorrow.

That’s all it says. Your workload had increased significantly a few weeks ago, and the constant stress of the day to day at work has been getting to you. You’ve been making small mistakes that you’d never have made otherwise. There was an incident with a client that you don’t even want to think about, but your boss, as is his job, has no problem reminding you.

After a moment, a text from your brother comes in. Call me back. And you sigh, standing there in a daze in the driveway, you can barely get yourself to move.

Between work, your family drama, and now knowing you have to deal with getting your car fixed, you really just want to take a shower and crawl into bed, but you can’t do that, because it’s 2pm on a Tuesday, and you have an online meeting in thirty minutes.

Your fingers hover over the contact in your phone. He’s at work, and you don’t want to bother him, but he’s the only person you want to talk to. His voice is the only one you want to hear right now. You can feel yourself holding it together by a thread as you press on his contact and start walking into the house, leaving your poor car in the driveway.

“Hello?” He answers.

“Do you have time to talk?” You question, unsure of whether he’s busy or not.

He probably senses the urgency in your tone, “Yeah, I have a couple minutes before I have to be in the interrogation room.”

A part of you knows that since he said he has a couple minutes, this probably means he was supposed to be in the interrogation room five minutes ago, and he doesn’t actually have time. You almost say never mind and end the call, but you can’t keep your composure any longer, and you need to talk to him.

“My brother got into a big fight with my mom and I was backing up and I hit a telephone pole, and I messed up at work and I’m scared that I’m going to get in trouble.”

“Whoa, hold on, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, my car’s not.” You respond.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Was anyone hurt?”

“No, no one was even on the street, it was just me, hitting a stupid pole because I didn’t look over my shoulder because I was distracted because my brother was yelling at me and I was rushing home from work to do the stupid incident report that I should have done by now. And I have a meeting at 2:30.”

The tears start falling and then you’re fully sobbing. You’re standing in the kitchen, just sobbing as Jay tries to understand everything you just said. You can hear shuffling on the other end, but he doesn’t say anything right away, and you continue crying and mumbling something about your car.

“I’m coming home.” You finally hear him say.

“No, you have an interrogation!” You respond, knowing you’ll feel even worse if he just leaves work right now. “

“Y/n, you’re not hurt, right?” He questions, completely ignoring your reminder that he’s supposed to be working.

“No,” You mumble behind the tears still falling. You force a deep breath and try to slow your sobs. “But I have that meeting. It’s at 2:30.” You repeat yourself.

“Okay, are you inside?”

“Yes.”

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427 notes - Posted September 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Stay

Jay HalsteadxReader

summary: Y/n and Jay lost touch after high school, but run into each other years later. Y/n insists she doesn’t need help, but Jay’s detective instincts won’t let him let her go.

words: almost 8k

warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, domestic violence, physical abuse, emotional manipulation, toxic relationships.

a/n: i’ve been wrestling with this piece for weeks now, and i could go through and edit it probably two more times, but i’m going insane, and i want to post it so badly, so this is what you get. hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated!

also this should go without saying, but please heed the warnings, there are some graphic descriptions of dv so please please do not read if this is a trigger for you. thank you.

“Halstead, over here!” The voice is just loud enough that it cuts through the constant hum of the crowd and catches your attention. You know that name. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still think about him, didn’t still wonder how he’s doing, or daydream about running into him since moving back to Chicago three months ago.

Without realizing what you’re doing, you swivel around on the barstool, somewhat accidentally making eye contact with him in the process. The recognition crosses his face, mirroring the expression on your own. It’s really him, not his brother or another guy named Halstead. It’s him.

“Y/n?” He says in disbelief, immediately changing his pathway and walking toward you instead of stopping at the table his friends were all crowded around. He approaches you silently, studying you, almost like he cannot believe it really is you in front of him, and you don’t blame him.

“Jay,” You breathe.

“You’re back in Chicago? How are you?” A genuine smile crosses his face as he stops in front of you, and you remember a day when you would give anything to be the reason for his smile.

“I’m–uh- good.” Your eyes drift to behind him at the rowdy group of guys looking in your direction, and you know they are about to yell at him, to call him over, probably tease him for talking to you. “It looks like your friends are waiting for you.” You point out the obvious.

“They can wait.” He responds, unfazed. “How long have you been back?”

“My boyfriend and I moved back here a few months ago.” You force a smile onto your face, intentionally mentioning your boyfriend, knowing that is likely to end the conversation much faster. There’s something else you could say to end the conversation even faster, but you hold back. A part of you doesn’t want Jay to know your life now, to know what it’s become. Maybe he still sees you as the carefree teenager you once were, and maybe you’d like to keep it that way.

“Oh, nice!” If Jay is shocked or disappointed, he show it.

“Detective, get over here!” One of his friends, who already seems to have had more than just a few drinks, slurs in your general direction.

“Detective? You’re police?” You can’t stop the surprise from coming through in your own voice.

“A lot has changed, for both of us, I guess.” He says with a shrug and half smile. He taps his fingers on the bar in front of you, “It was good seeing you.” He says with a look of finality in his eyes. You have a boyfriend. He has to go celebrate with his friends.

You nod, “You too.” And watch out of the corner of your eye as he makes his way to his friends. They shout as he enters the circle, slapping him on the shoulder and handing him a drink. The word detective keeps being thrown around in their group, and you deduce that he probably just got promoted, and they’re out celebrating.

“Who was that?” Sam asks, approaching you, while nodding in Jay’s direction. You silently curse, realizing he saw at least the tail end of that conversation, something you were hoping to avoid completely.

“Just a guy I knew in high school.” You respond nonchalantly. Sam takes his spot on the stool next to you, resting one hand on your waist to show the entire bar you’re with him. He flags down the bartender with the other hand, never missing a beat.

“You just knew him.” The intonation in his voice ensures this doesn’t come across as a casual question.

“Yeah, nothing happened between us.” Not for lack of trying. You can’t help but think to yourself.

It was just too much. Between his mom getting sick and dying and your far from perfect life at home with your mom and stepdad, there was no room for anything that would last. He left for the army the week he graduated high school, and that fall you were off to California for college. Things maybe could have been different for the two of you if real life hadn’t gotten in the way.

“You’re lying.” Sam whispers, his voice so low and deep, it almost sounds like a growl.

“I’m not lying. I swear nothing happened.” You turn meeting his eyes, silently begging him to believe you, to drop the subject.

His hand tightens around your waist, and you have to stop yourself from visibly flinching.

“Sam, stop.” You whisper, scooting even closer to him, hoping for some relief under his grip.

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532 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #posting this so i can compare it to next year #hoping to write more in 2023

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