sypnosis: jay has an important meeting, clients flying in, schedules packed, the kind of day only a cel could have. but when you wake up feeling terrible, everything else fades. he cancels the meeting without a second thought, staying home to care for you. and in those quiet, stolen moments, you realize just how much he’s willing to put aside for you and how much you mean to him.
pairings: buisness man ceo jay x reader
genres: non-idol au, romance, domestic fluff, married life, slow burn, protective jay
it’s barely 6:03 a.m. when jay’s alarm vibrates against the nightstand.
he’s already half-awake, reaching to silence it before it can ring, slipping out of bed with quiet care. his arms are wrapped around you, your warm body tucked against his chest, breaths still slow and sleepy. he stays still for a moment, listening—then carefully loosens his hold, inch by inch, making sure the blanket doesn’t shift, that you don’t stir.
he finishes putting on his tie and pulling on his watch when he hears it.
a small, broken sound from behind him. congested. uncomfortable. wrong.
jay freezes and looks back immediately.
you’re shifting under the blankets, breathing through your mouth, brows pinched like even existing hurts. he’s at your side in seconds, kneeling, hand smoothing over your hair.
“hey… baby?” his voice is low, careful. he presses the back of his hand to your forehead and his expression changes immediately. “you okay…?” he smooths “you’re really warm.” he says pressing the back of his hand to your forehead.
you blink at him nodding you head , eyes watery and unfocused. “m’fine,” you whisper, voice wrecked. “you don’t look fine” he frowned slightly with a raised eyebrow”
“seriously jay i’m fine” you say voice hoarse followed by an immediate sneeze, contradicting your previous words.
he exhales slowly, thumb brushing your cheek. “you sound awful.”
jay’s expression softens immediately. he tsks and shakes his head just a little, more worried than anything, thumb brushing gently along your cheek. “you should’ve worn your jacket last night,” he murmurs, voice low and careful. “it got colder than you thought.”
you sniffle, barely opening your eyes. “didn’t think it mattered.”
"i know, baby” he says softly. “you never do.” there’s no reproach in it—just concern, like he wishes he could rewind the night and fix it for you.
“you’re going to be late…” you remind looking over at the clock “i just need sleep,” you insist, trying to pull the blanket higher with whatever strenght the sickness left you. “go to work.” you shoo'd him with your limp hand.
jay stands, grabs his phone, already typing. no hesitation. no debate.
“i’m staying,” he says.
you groaned slightly knowing how stubborn jay is “you have that meeting today.”
“i'll just reschedule it.” he shrugs like its nothing setting the phone down and sits on the edge of the bed, firm but gentle as he tucks the blanket back around you. “you’re burning up, you can barely talk, and you think I’m leaving you alone like this?”
“jay—no, you can’t—” you say half atempting to sit up
“of course i can, love” he says calmly, voice low. “you need me more than they do.” he explains as if it makes perfect sense.
“they flew people in—”
“mhm..and i'll make sure they fly them in again,” he murmurs, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. then, softly, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “it’s just a meeting babe... you’re my priority. you know this”
you blink at him, exhausted, but something about the way he says it makes your chest ache.
you stared at him for a couple seconds unsure
"mhk,, just don’t want to be the reason you miss something important.” you eventually cave knowing the last thing you'd want is to be on your death bed without jay by your side anyway.
he stills.
then he looks at you fully—really looks at you and his expression softens in a way that always makes your chest ache.
“you’re not a reason,” he says quietly. “you’re my wife.” his words make you smile like an idiot.
“you’re too good to me,” you mumble. "even tho you're so stubborn.." you mumble earning a chuckle from him.
you can’t help a tiny laugh, weak and airy. “stubborn as hell.” you add
“yeah,” he grins, brushing your hair back again, “and you love me for it.” he says, ruffling your hair.
jay moves quietly around the room, opening the curtains just enough for soft morning light to spill in, turning on the humidifier, boiling water for tea. when he comes back, he helps you sit up, careful and steady.
“small sips my love,” he murmurs.
you lean into him without thinking, head resting against his chest. he stays still, not moving, not saying anything—just holding you like there’s nowhere else he needs to be.
because there isn’t.
“sleep,” he whispers after a while, pressing another soft kiss to the side of your head, near your temple. “i’ve got you.”
you lift your head slightly, sniffle, and whisper, “just… lying down with you… makes me feel better.”
jay smiles, settling down beside you and curling you against him. one arm around your shoulders, the other patting your hair and gently rubbing your back. you can feel him breathe slow and steady, a quiet rhythm that somehow makes your fevered head feel calmer.
“thank you jay..” you mumble after a while, voice barely above a whisper. “for… staying for me.”
“always,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek against your hair. “always, baby.”
and there, cocooned together in the quiet morning light, you drift toward sleep—safe, cared for, and completely wrapped up in each other.
synopsis moments in the life of jay and yn as a married couple.
paring chaebol husband/dad! jay x fem! reader
genre engaged! au, married! au, parents! au, fluff, angst, established relationship! au
warnings nothing is proof read (unfortunately), this is all fiction!!! nothing is to be taken seriously please, suggestive/18+ content at times (will mention it in the chapters), yn is not korean, they are very much in love with each other, lots of drama ngl, more to be added...
nessie 🗯️ surpriseeee (not really) but here's the return of husband diaries.. with jay!!!! a lot of y'all really loved this series with sunghoon so it made sense to bring it back and with jay UGH the dream ideal husband <3 just a little heads up that he's gonna make you feel insanely single but wtv he's the dream :3 ANYWAY, i hope y'all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing this. love all of y'all cuties kissies and love <3
01. dinner with the parks 02. happy days around the mansion 03. wedding errands 04. wine drunk 05. kiss me now? 06. mishaps 07. internal conflicts 08. heavy head 09. all of you 10. stupid stick 11. wedding chaos 12. wedding bells 13. reception 14. speeches and polaroids 15. like this for the rest of our lives, please 16. TO … uh… where are we going jay? 17. yellow bikini 18. day one in amsterdam 19. changing rooms 20. sleepy lips 21. nude beach 22. home seattle home 23. back to work 24. fender bender 25. the real boss 26. can’t talk like that 27. tailing 28. workaholics 29. kick, please? 30. water broke 31. aiden evan park 32. mama’s boy 33. never again 34. not going anywhere 35. from you 36. moonlit boys 37. thumb war 38. boxy grin x2 39. crawl monster 40. separation anxiety 41. bumpy head 42. dada’s day out 43. poor baby 44. granola mash 45. lash out 46. let me take care of you 47. don’t regret me
📁 2026.works. ╰ 📂 JAY : FLUFF! husband!jay taking care of you on your period (1k words)
notes — haven’t reread oop srry if there’s any mistake lol
‘I’m home !’ He announced himself with his usual soft voice. Jay was always getting home after you as his work requires him to often be at the office. And even though he was a busy man professionally, Jay always found time to spend with you and you loved that especially seeing your friends and their boyfriends who struggled to make efforts sometimes.
And every time you felt thankful you had him, because he knew exactly how to take care of you.
As soon as he entered the living-room and spotted you laying on your side on the couch, he smiled.
‘My love.’ He whispered when he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. He caressed your hair gently. You hadn’t made any effort today, only wearing your pajamas and tying your hair in a low bun that was quite messy already as you spent the day on the couch, taking naps and moving in all positions to find the least hurting.
But your period cramps did hurt like hell all day and even now it wasn’t any better. That was the reason that despite his softness and kindness you were only complaining and frowning, not even moving to give him a kiss or a hug.
Jay sat down next to you and instantly put your legs on his lap, his thumb drawing circles on your knee while his other hand was placing a few strands of your hair away, allowing him to see your beautiful face. Because despite you being tired, Jay loved to stare at your face as there was not a single day passing by without you being the prettiest view in his life.
‘What’s wrong, my love ?’ Jay asked. He never knew when your period happened as your cycles weren’t always regular and as much as he tried to remember, his work took too much of his time and he clearly couldn’t remember these little details but you didn’t mind because he was trying.
‘It’s my first day of period… Hurts like a bitch.’ You said. Quite vulgar. But it only drew a little giggle out of him.
Jay caressed your stomach. His hands were warm and the tenderness in his touch was enough to at least comfort you a bit. You needed this. You needed him. But you also needed your usual cravings and he knew this.
‘I’ll be right back.’ Jay got up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen without uttering another word.
You slightly redressed, positioned on your elbows as you tried to stare through the window between the kitchen and the living-room. ‘Jay ?’ You asked, but there was no response.
Instead, you saw him entering the living-room a few minutes later, with a few snacks in hand. All of your favorites, and a beautiful smile on his lips showing just how proud he was as he could tell by the look on your face just how happy this little attention made you.
He sat back on the couch and opened one of the snacks, grabbed a tiny piece of food, offered it to you and you didn’t wait long before opening your mouth to eat it.
‘Mhhh fo good.’ You spoke, the food not swallowed yet and he laughed harder. ‘Don’t talk when eating.’ He poked your cheek and frowned as if scolding you but there was nothing in these beautiful eyes other than love.
You grabbed his hand and he instantly intertwined your fingers together. You always enjoyed feeling his warmth. ‘Lay with me ?’ You asked and he didn’t say a word; instead only laid down instantly behind you, spooning you from behind and you could smell his expensive cologne even better now that he was closer.
‘Mhh you always put in so much perfume.’ You whined and his only response was to nuzzle his head into your neck, his nose poking at you as he planted a singular kiss. ‘Oop…’ His arms brought you closer, until your entire body was glued to his as he enjoyed cuddling whenever you were all against him.
You didn’t know how much time you were going to stay in this position. Knowing Jay, he wasn’t one to put an end to a moment you were both enjoying. But since you didn’t feel like interrupting it either, you figured you’d stay a few more hours like this.
You grabbed the remote and turned the tv on. ‘Movie ?’ You asked and he hummed against your skin. ‘Sure. Don’t fall asleep in front of it though, mh ?’
You let out an amused giggle, as you knew he was saying this because you somehow always ended up falling asleep while watching something with him whether a series or a movie. Even when you chose the movies you weren’t watching until the end and Jay somehow always had to carry you to bed.
He didn’t mind though. He carried you around as if you were his princess and it reminded him of the marriage day where he held you just like that too. He never forgot it and he’d never forget it, that was for sure.
After a few forty minutes of watching, Jay checked your face and found your eyes closed. He chuckled alone. ‘Of course’ He whispered as he moved to take the remote from your hand slowly, avoiding to wake you up. He turned the tv off and you whined as soon as there was no background sound.
‘Shhh.’ He reassured, wrapping his arms around your body. He didn’t want to carry you to bed today as he feared to wake you up doing so and since you had been suffering from your period cramps a lot, Jay wanted you to sleep well as long as it lasted.
‘Good night my love.’ He whispered, tightening his embrace and not moving as he didn’t want to leave you here alone. He promised to always be there for you, even during these days where you’d feel down and he wasn’t one to break his promises.
❛ just you, jay, and his six year old daughter who starts playing matchmaker when his coward of a dad can’t stop giggling at the thought of you. ❜
16O3O words of single dad jay ♥︎ kindergarten teacher reader
INCLUDES───fluff, humour, loads of cuteness, jay is a single girl dad, tired and a yearner through and through, matchmaker and menace of a daughter called ‘jiyu,’
WARNINGS───kissing, skinship, petnames, mentions of death ( not the reader or jay, ) drinking, lots and lots of hello kitty bye
CAELIN───round of applause for single dad jay !!!!! i have actually been thinking about this since i posted my very first single dad drabble. i’m super excited to share this with all of you. please lmk what you think & talk to me about this, it’s one of my forever favourites happy reading ◜ᴗ◝ cr @yeokii for the beautiful banner i love u goat
PART ONE PART TWO ✶ please read these before diving into this one for everything to make sense hehe :3
OO1 FEARLESS
jay, nine, decided he was too cool to have fears.
you wouldn’t be afraid of something if you didn’t let it scare you.
insects, sure, they make his skin crawl. but scared? nah. he wasn’t scared when he tried to drive for the first time, when he went bungee jumping, or when he swam to the deeper part of the pool at the age of sixteen— fifteen feet to be exact. he was never scared of needles and ghost stories have always failed to amuse him.
then, he got married at twenty four, had the prettiest little baby girl at twenty six and lost the love of his life at twenty seven.
perhaps, the time he felt anything close to fear was his daughter’s angelic face scrunched up in painful sobs and he didn’t know what to do. second time, it was when she almost fell from the bed when she was two, third, probably when he accidentally broke her hello kitty headband when she was four.
mistakes happen, he is only human, and jay had trained himself through books and constant advice from his parents to be the father of the century. no, he still doesn’t have a fear.
and then cue a busy day at work, endless meetings and piles of files that need his signature. he sees the numbers on the clock go from two to three in the noon. and jay has never stormed out of his office faster than now.
jay, now thirty two, has a fear— getting late to pick his daughter up from school— and it’s coming to life right now.
he always makes it on time, or before, managing to buy her favourite snacks to surprise her on the way back. the mothers talk while he waits in his chic black maserati, they smile to themselves when they see her run to him with saccharine giggles and he scoops her up.
jay— ideal employee and father— was convinced he was second to no one.
but today, god, he might be just speeding beyond limits, frantically looking at the time and at the road alternatively. he’s scared his darling daughter would be crying. he is never late— well, except once. it was a year ago, he was still new to managing work with her school days. she was sitting in the empty classroom alone with the teacher working on the side. the look on her face that day felt like a knife through his heart, and he promised to her that he would never be late again.
but then, today was the second time and he doesn’t know if his car is racing faster or his heart as he pulls up in front of the kindergarten. hurrying out of the car, he basically runs through the entrance, silently hoping and praying she doesn’t look lonely like the first time. he stops, taking a deep breath, eyes falling wide at the sight of his daughter.
she’s giggling, trying to kick the football. she looks up at you for validation at her poor attempt, a toothy grin adorning his face when you clap your hands. his lips erupt into an involuntary smile at the sight of you exhibiting a defeated frown— albeit dramatically— when jiyu scores a goal.
his heart skips a beat, she is his entire world, and she is happy, laughing, enjoying herself, and then it’s you— jiyu’s pretty teacher and his, well, dream girl. he doesn’t know why his heart has sped up anymore.
“papa!” the cute, little voice pulls him out of his trance, and his lips curl into a fond smile as he gets on one knee to embrace his little princess, greeting her with a kiss on the temple.
“hi, princess,” he caresses her cheeks, eyes going over the mess she has made out of her clothes. it’s going to be a tough time getting all that dirt and paint out but gosh, anything for her. with jiyu’s head on his shoulder, his eyes settle on you, and his face heats up again. “sorry for being late,”
he gives you a slight nod, a wordless thank you for looking after jiyu and a quiet apology for keeping you occupied. and when you return the smile back, he starts going crazy. even after having a fair share of women in his life, you have managed to bewitch him with pretty eyes and the ability to make his daughter smile.
actually, he has been crazy about you since day one, even before he had seen you, known you, heard you. he remembers how jiyu would eat his ears off while rambling about how pretty you are— she still does, except he listens and agrees with her like he has never heard any truer words in his life.
before, he got up early and dressed her up for school because education is important. now, it’s because he’s just as excited as jiyu to see you. education is still there— you have simply managed to make it seem less important.
“it’s fine, we had fun together. right, lovebug?” you assure, tickling jiyu’s sides as she yelps while swatting your hand away playfully.
and his heart aches in the best way when she gets out of his embrace to play with you. jay can swear he could melt into a puddle with how cute you both are, your laughs music to his ears, like a melody he has been missing for years. you can call him out on his lack of responsibility for being fashionably late to picking his daughter up and he would listen to it all with a fond gaze.
he stands up, holding the grayish-blue blazer in his hand, unable to take his eyes away from you, only to blink back to reality when jiyu tugs on his trousers.
“papa, i scored two goals today!” she chirps, eyes wide and gleaming in expectation for some compliments from her beloved father.
“really?” she nods proudly and jay grins like he is the one who made the goals. he is far too proud of his little girl. ronaldo should be glad jiyu is more interested in hello kitty colouring books. “let’s buy some treats to celebrate,”
“treats!” she exclaims before immediately getting distracted by a butterfly, running off to the side.
and it’s quiet again.
his hands are sweating, butterflies cartwheeling in his stomach. you’re telling jiyu to be careful not to trip and jay, he has already fallen for you once again. words can never be enough to express how much he appreciates you taking care of her.
the way wind blows through your hair makes him sigh in adoration, your eyes the brightest thing in existence, even more than the stars. and jay has never been the one to get sappy but he would write sonnets for you.
it’s getting awkward, aside from jiyu’s attempts to catch the butterfly and the visible concern written in your face. with a deep inhale, he musters up all his courage, the thump in his chest getting louder. “thank you for looking after her,”
and when you look at him with a warm smile, eyes crinkling up in crescents, he wants to melt in your hands the very moment. “no worries, it’s my job,”
even your voice resonates of a song sung by angels— he can’t believe he is thinking all that at his grown age. he wants to slap his face or bang his hand on the wall to pull himself together. but again, you make him want to write letters in your name. he’s a hopeless case.
“she likes you a lot,” i do too, he wants to add, but he controls. he is a grown man, for god’s sake, and here you have him blushing and swooning like a teenager having the first encounter with love. it’s crazy— just a month ago he was losing his mind over his daughter fawning over you and now, he’s doing the same.
his next words are interrupted by his dear daughter’s stubborn whines. he knew she would give up on the butterfly soon, stomping her tiny feet back to him. she’s already sold to the treats and nothing can calm her before she gets her hands on them.
“papa, let’s go! i want treats!” and jiyu, she is relentless, pulling his hand towards his car while he looks at you helplessly. patience is all he has ever taught her and she is everything that reminds him of his late wife.
he shoots an apologetic smile in your direction and lets her drag him to the car, knowing he can never say no when she gives those doe eyes to get him to fulfill her demands. her tiny hands grip around his fingers that taught her to walk and pull him in one direction while his heart gravitates in another— and this is just the beginning.
jay has been thinking.
with slow hands stirring the soup, his wandering mind has once again decided to go back to you. he can feel jiyu’s curious eyes scanning his face— she sighs like a middle aged adult— and he clears his throat with intention.
“so…what does your pretty miss like?” he is cautious, obviously trying to play it cool as if it’s completely normal for a parent to ask that. he does not want to show his exact intentions, at least not yet.
jiyu looks up from the colouring book in confusion, crayons scattered above the kitchen counter. she presses her lips together, as if having a deep thought. “um hello kitty! and strawberries!” a pause, she tilts her head to the right. “why?”
why.
good question, a damn good question with no answer. even he is wondering why. does he like you? everyone does, he’d be crazy to find you unlikeable. does he want you? yes— no! he slaps himself mentally.
he looks over at his daughter and she is humming one of her favourite rhymes while colouring the unicorns. it reminds him how you were holding her hand to guide her over the outlines, teaching her how to fill the colours properly. he also remembers how you had kissed her cheek since she did a good job, and he almost wanted you to kiss him too— jay wants to bang his head into a wall.
he wants to stop thinking about you, to save himself from spiralling into madness. it is clearly not working, so he goes back to his initial mission.
“can you ask what her favourite flower is?” his voice is a little more cautious this time, eyes fixed on the soup as if he doesn’t want to throw away everything and only talk about you.
she looks up again. “why?” and he groans internally.
gosh, do her questions ever end?
“it’s good to know your teacher,” he is trying so hard to make it sound weird. he turns off the stove, one hand on the counter as he leans against it. “and you can give her flowers to make her happy! you like her, don’t you?”
jiyu doesn’t respond, completely engrossed in her messy crayon drawing with the tongue sticking out in concentration.
and then, a quiet whisper follows. “i think papa likes her more,”
he winces internally at her words, not wanting to hear those words from her, out of all people. it makes him sound like he is in denial and trying to avoid the topic— even though he is, but he is not going to admit it.
is he being that obvious? he has barely known you for a little over a month— that too, only at school pickups and boring parents teachers meetings that he now loves to attend. yes, he accepts that he looks at you a little longer than he looks at everyone else. he doesn’t look at anyone else, only you. and it was going to be just you for a very, very long time.
“what no— i mean yes, but no!” he is panicking, losing his mind. the words are jumbled inside his head and the look on jiyu’s face tells that she knows his poor papa is having a quarter life crisis.
of course, he likes you. he likes your smile, your soft voice while you’re talking to the kids, your eyes and the way they sparkle all the time as if they hold the stars. jay likes you a lot, he’s just not ready to admit that out loud, especially not to his tiny, nosy, love-struck little matchmaker.
and unfortunately enough for him, she’s not waiting for a ‘yes’ from him. “you do! you get red when you see her! and you smile at her videos!” jiyu claims with full confidence— she is right.
his eyes crinkle up in crescents whenever he comes across one of your baking videos. when jiyu told him about your baking channel for the first time, he pictured his future with you. he thinks it’s destiny— he loves to cook, you love to bake— it’s a match made in heaven, a written in the stars type of love story.
his heart flutters at your cute cutelery, the pretty ceramics and adorable bowls. it’s adorable. he can’t even see your face, just the sound of your soothing voice is enough to ease his mind.
“that does not mean i like her, darling,” but jay is a father, first and foremost, before a loverboy lying to his daughter about his feelings. he doesn’t need his six year-old walking special agent to know about the feelings bubbling in his chest.
at least, not yet.
jiyu gets back to her colouring book, shaking her pretty little head like a tired parent. it’s unbelievable that he refuses to accept it even after she has called out his red face whenever you are around. raising a dad is hard, she would say, he is always in denial.
and she is definitely going to do something about it. “lilies are pretty,” she mumbles, not looking up from her colouring book but she knows she has all his attention. “you like lilies too!”
it makes hundred percent sense in her tiny brain that’s working overtime.
jay likes lilies, he gives you lilies, you end up liking lilies too— she hopes you will— you both bond over lilies and get closer and kiss. it’s the perfect scheme ever, she has seen it in one of the princess movies. well, not exactly, because the flowers were magical but nonetheless, she hopes the lilies do the work.
she’s devising a masterplan and jay— he knows just where to get the flowers from. he doesn’t need to be asked twice. pretty pink lilies wrapped in a bouquet with a ribbon. he’s already trying to come up with words to add onto a little note by the side.
pink lilies are for admiration. yeah, this is a great start.
jiyu is on a mission.
tiny hands holding a pot of lilies, brows furrowed, she looks at her father who is crouching in front of her. “give this to pretty miss,”
her shoulders are heavy with responsibility, she absolutely cannot mess this up. her tiny hands hold the small plant, and also jay’s pipeline to a love story with you but let’s not dwell into the details.
she nods firmly, way too interested in this little cupid act that she has gotten into. this has to be the most important day in her whole six years of life. her hold tightens on the pot, and she speaks with resolution. “will do!”
he sighs, fixing her ponytail. “and what do you say?”
“flowers are good and make you happy!” and dear heavens, jay has never been so proud of this little angel he has. honestly, he does feel a little silly for dragging her into his mess, but it was impossible to keep her out. she suggested the lilies and he knows she wouldn’t shut up about them until they have reached you safe and secure.
she has eyes as keen as an eagle and he is an open book.
she waves him goodbye, walking through the pink and blue entrance of the school and frowning at everyone who tries to touch the flower. her steps are laced with determination, wanting to do this right and make her father proud.
she walks to the class, flaunting the brand new hello kitty keychain on her bag pack. she was going to brag about it later. now, her eyes land on you as you arrange the books, and she approaches you with the puppy dog eyes that make the stars sigh in unison.
“pretty miss!” her cute voice makes you turn on your heel, a gasp falls off your lips as she holds the pot up and gives you her characteristic toothy smile. “for you!”
she’s shooting sparkles with her eyes that are looking at you eagerly for a reaction. it’s making you feel so many things at once, are you even supposed to take a gift from a student? you’re not sure, but you don’t have it in you to reject her surprise when she is looking at you with that grinning face.
“for me?” you look at the plantlet, and then at the excitement on her face as she hands it to you, her adorable eyes brimming with anticipation that you would like the gift. “why?”
“flowers are good!” she is beaming with cheerfulness, hands together and lips curved into the brightest smile. she is so proud of herself, almost imagining her dad patting her back and giving her all the chocolates. “papa told me to— oops!”
and the next second, her tiny hands fly over to her mouth, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. a gasp, she tries to blink the surprise away, gears turning inside her little head to come up with the best excuses. she cannot afford to mess this up. it’s about her papa and her pretty teacher— better than any princess story she has ever read.
you giggle at her innocent slip-up, the way her fingers fidgeting together in nervousness. you crouch to her level, gently placing the pot of lily on your work desk. “your father sent these?”
this is like her nightmare coming true. she can already see her father sighing disappointedly— no more spying, no more missions— her bottom lip is quivering at the mere thought of it.
“no!” and she shakes her head vigorously, try her very best to prove that it is not the case. “it’s a secret,”
you can barely enquire more before she runs off to her seat, successfully getting distracted by her friend’s cinnamoroll keychain. meanwhile, your eyes settle on the plant, the single flower that’s still about to reach its full bloom. there’s a bud next to it, small stars painted intricately on the ceramic pot. there’s a hello kitty sticker too— you know exactly who put it there.
you can hardly stop yourself from smiling, even when you’re supposed to go over the basic mathematics right now. your eyes inadvertently fall upon the beautiful white flower kept in the sunlight, the sight causing a slight flutter in your chest as warmth crept up your cheeks.
frankly, you have never thought about a parent of your students in such a way. it’s a little bashful, not to mention, unprofessional. although, something about jay makes you want to forget all those things and throw the cognition out of the window.
you see reflections of him in jiyu— the lovely smile, the way her eyes close when she laughs, her mannerisms, the slight raise in her brows when she is focused, and she is confident just like him, walking in as if she owns the room.
you don’t like working overtime but staying a little longer to look after jiyu is out of the equation. she’s cute, after all, and so is her dad, who shows up with an apologetic smile and tousled hair to pick her up. his eyes speak of exhaustion yet never running out of the love he harbours for her. his suit jacket is always on his forearm, tie a little loose and messy.
it doesn’t escape your attention the way his ears go red while talking to you and he avoids meeting your eyes. at this point, you don’t know if you’re staying late to look after jiyu or to catch a glimpse of her very attractive dad.
you continue with your duties, which certainly don’t include looking forward to meeting a certain someone but you end up counting down the minutes until the school hours end. parents teacher meetings are draining but when it’s with him, you find it oddly enjoyable. getting distracted was rather usual now, it was impossible to stop thoughts about him from flooding into your mind.
one quiet moment and your thoughts go back to him. it certainly didn’t help that jiyu mentioned him every few minutes— ‘my papa is the best—’ yeah, and you think so too.
much to your disappointment, you get caught up in a conversation with another parent to even see him, and it really pained to bid jiyu goodbye all alone and not walk her to the exit. it’s as if the universe isn’t on your side either because he arrived on time to pick up his little angel— fifteen minutes earlier in fact.
you could only watch him from a distance as he scooped her up in his arms and showered her with kisses, barely able to focus on the conversation at hand. and it melts your heart at the way jiyu waves you goodbye before resting her head on his shoulder as he carries her to his car, disappearing in the crowd of cheerful kids and yearning parents.
his hands are full of promised snacks and a surprise chocolate mousse patisserie that she loves to death. he can imagine his late wife scolding him for spoiling their daughter, but he can’t say no when she is looking at him with the very eyes he fell in love with ten years ago.
he shakes his head with a sigh, following jiyu’s tiny steps inside the house, calling out from behind. “careful!”
she’s a menace through and through, a treats monster on tiny feet that seemingly never gets tired even after school. he’s closing the door behind him and she stumbles on the way to the couch— his heart leaps out of his chest. even after six years, nothing can get him used to her energetic spirit that rules the entire house and has him dancing on her palms.
“snacks!” she claps her hands together, bouncing on the couch with happiness. it’s all she cares about, he doesn’t have to know about her little blunder in the plan. she can’t wait to have her papa-jiyu playtime where they both have snacks and share secrets.
and then she jumps down from the couch, restlessly running to him as she pulls her sparkly purple bag from his arm and shuffles through the colouring books and notebooks to pull out a pink envelope, basically shoving it into his face. “pretty miss gave this for you,”
his pulse increases at the simple mention of your name, and the fact that you send him an envelope— it feels like setting fire to his nerves. his shaky hands hold it cautiously, as if it’s worth millions. actually, to him, it does.
jay tilts his head— it’s exactly where jiyu gets that habit from— and he blinks at the sunflower sticker on top of the envelope. it makes him smile, you’re way too similar to jiyu when it comes to cute stickers and the colour pink.
he pulls out a small card from inside, and written on it is a small note which he can’t even read since the words are falling blind to his eyes. he is way too busy admiring your handwriting, the slight cursive that is just so you.
‘thank you for the lilies. they’re beautiful. ps. jiyu is bad at keeping secrets.’
and it happens again.
the jumbling of words inside his mind, heart beating relentlessly. he doesn’t know if he should consider his plan a success or failure— at least you have the lilies, he reassures himself, trying to hide his face behind the card that he knows is going to the safest locker in his cupboard.
and jiyu looks at him in confusion. “papa, you’re red again,”
OO2 TOOTH & NAIL
“papa,” she whispers in her cute voice, gesturing to him with her tiny hands to bend down to her level. “he gave her coffee,”
it’s not a known fact but jay and jiyu can pass for spies, or maybe they became one after he picked her up and saw another man approach you with what seemed like coffee.
this isn’t how things were supposed to go, but life is unpredictable. it was going to be an afternoon full of healthy vegetable sandwiches followed by ice cream and a movie of jiyu’s choice. well, that is until a certain someone reached you out with coffee right in front of him and jay felt like he was being challenged for a duel.
even she is engrossed— eyes squinted and fixed, she is judging that man with all her four feet and two inches. her face scrunches up— he’s not even that good-looking, not more than her prince of a father. no amount of spy missions to find cookies in the kitchen with her dad ( that he hid, by the way ) could measure up to this moment.
this just might be the most important mission of her entire life.
“come on, sweetheart. we should go home,” he buckles her seatbelt and turns on the ignition, and she nods like a commander in action.
she turns to her dad, eyes determined. the mission is clear— you’re a princess in danger, needing to be saved from the monster who lures people with coffee. her dear papa is the knight in shining armour, it’s exactly how the stories go. “are you going to fight?”
and jay scoffs, contradictory to the rules of disney. he huffs like this entire thing has nothing to do with him, even though his knuckles turn white with how firmly he is gripping the steering. “what? no!”
jay is indeed going to fight. tooth and nail.
he feels stupid for having these emotions— the butterflies, a crush, and the jealousy that seeps through his skin, drop by drop, every time he thinks about what happened earlier. the picture of you with he who shall not be mentioned is ingrained in his mind. eyes open, eyes closed, he sees you and him, and the thought that follows leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.
‘do you like him? is he your boyfriend?’
jay prefers to ignore the latter.
you did look happy when he gave you the coffee and your lips had curved up in the same beautiful smile that melts his heart every single time, even in his wildest dreams. he has never been so restless and nervous. his mouth is going dry as the seconds pass— tick-tock, tick-tock— she inhales sharply, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.
jay— the epitome of confidence and composure, is losing his cool because you interact with other men.
you and him are barely anything, and even if you were, you can talk to anyone you want. he knows that in all the right corners of his mind, even though his thoughts probably make him seem like a madman. hell, even he is surprised but he gets crazy when you’re the one driving.
his eyes go over the counter again— flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla, blueberries, baking powder, spatula, butter, milk, some more— all check. and then he gets to the matter at hand.
“do you think she likes cookies?” he asks jiyu, who is once again sitting on her high chair at the counter, making puzzles. “or muffins. everyone likes muffins,”
and she doesn’t even look up, tongue sticking out as she’s trying to figure out which piece goes where— a quiet mumble falls off her lips. “you can ask her,”
“no!” he shrieks and almost drops the spatula. “that’s a no, princess,”
the thought of you being aware of his stupid plans haunts him.
jay cannot think about asking your likes and dislikes without cringing on the inside and dying a little. you’re jiyu’s teacher, for god’s sake, even though that hasn’t stopped him from imagining you had his girlfriend and giggling under the blanket.
well, he hopes you like muffins. you have made a video about it, the one he watched religiously last night. it wasn’t in his best plans to woo you with his impeccable skills in the kitchen, but jay absolutely cannot let another man win you over while he sits with his hands tied.
he purses his lips in deep thought while absentmindedly tracing the rim of the bowl with his finger, and jiyu notices it all. she sees the way her dear father sighs every few seconds, wiping his sweaty hands on the apron.
the puzzle is gone, long forgotten. instead, she puts her elbow on the counter and rests her pretty face on tiny hands— an interrogation. “papa, are you scared?”
he scoffs.
he whips his head in her direction.
sacred? he is offended, it’s written all over his face. jay is the hero of all her midnight action stories, he is her spiderman who saves her from the monster octopus and superman who defeats carrots and capsicums.
he hasn’t been scared in years— okay, well, he did have a first hand encounter with fear every time he was late to pick jiyu up from school— but that is all. he has told her all about his great acts of bravery ( bungee jumping, swimming and riding a rollercoaster ) and it is like a dagger to his heart to hear her say that him, out of all the people, is scared.
he puts his hand over his heart that just cracked a little because his lovely daughter thought he was scared. a beautiful woman with pretty eyes and adorable smile hasn’t got anything on him.
sacred wouldn’t even be the last word he would use to describe himself.
“papa is never scared, darling,” he leans over the counter to boop her nose, lips flaunting a prideful grin.
and jiyu tilts her head adorably, the stars in her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “are you going to kiss pretty miss?”
jay feels the flutter in his chest again.
the thought of kissing you, you— his hands are shaking already. it is a dream come true for him. you look like an angel bestowed upon the earth, he would fall apart a thousand times before his lips touch yours.
and when they finally do, he would turn into angel dust blessed by your touch.
god, he is writing poetry about you in his head, seeing you in the flowers and the stars, in every beautiful thing in existence. jay is putting shakespeare to shame with his devotion, even though he can’t believe this is who he actually is.
he shakes his head, hands on waist and all, his squinted eyes shooting playful glares to his lovely daughter. “where are you learning all this from?”
“princess story! the prince and princess kiss and they live together!” and she is ever so excited, almost jumping on her seat. her grip tightens over her bunny plushie with anticipation. “if you kiss her, will she live with us?”
her words strike a certain cord in him— he is feeling a lot of things at once.
it’s yearning, perhaps, a longing for something he wants, something that he had before and lost through the cracks in his very palms that promised a happy future. jay was sure he would never fall for anyone else but here he was, already on the ground for you. he was scared for jiyu but she felt the safest with you, as if she had known you for an entire lifetime.
all his questions lead to you, all his answers are in you. his mind pushes him into pits of doubt while his heart pulls him out by the mere thought of you.
his hands are still shaking— but, he swears to hold yours ever so tenderly with his hesitant fingers. he would hold your heart like it’s glass and surrender himself to you.
that is, if you let him.
“i don’t know,” he sighs, adding extra choco chips to the batter. “that’s for her to decide, angel,”
after all, jay can only hope and pray.
“more glitter!” jiyu has the entire apartment up her shoulders, her tiny yet assertive voice ordering jay around like a poor employee under a cold-hearted boss.
he looks at the clock in worry, his little boss has no concept of time. “angel, that’s enough—”
“no, you have to make it pretty!” she exclaims with her glittery hands, grabbing yet another sparkly pen from her collection. “we need more glitter and heart and hello kitty stickers,”
the entire bed is filled with stickers, colourful pens and whatnots. he feels the headache approaching— he did not wake up an hour earlier than usual and cleaned the entire bedroom only to do it again after makes a mess of everything again.
jay isn’t quite sure if he should be worrying or not, she refuses to get ready for school without finishing their super secret ‘operation : save pretty teacher’ formulated by the one and only, park jiyu.
he only watched in defeat as she decorates the card— more glitter, more stars, more hello kitty— her tongue is poking out in concentration. jay thinks it’s genetic.
and then she shoves the paper in his face, wanting honest feedback, which means lots of compliments in her language.
“we should write a note,” jay presses his lips together, trying to come up with something. nothing too weird or forward, just nice and sweet like you.
jiyu claps her hand, chiming “say you want to marry her!” like it’s the best thing she has come up with in the six years of her life. it is, in fact, the most brilliant idea her tiny six year mind has thought of.
“stop it,” his heart is racing again— he is almost imagining you in a wedding gown already. he clears his throat as if jiyu’s words didn’t make his brain short circuit for a good few minutes. “okay. write ‘have a good day, pretty miss,”
and jay thinks he is smart.
making jiyu write his words in her adorably messy handwriting to make you believe that this was definitely not his idea and he certainly did not sit through the whole process of her making a greeting card for you. he was never the courageous one, not while confessing to his late wife, neither to you. although, he does feel a little more certain this time— it’s simply your magic.
she finishes up writing and he slides the pink card in the envelope ever so effortlessly— both of them sharing a prideful grin.
mission, half successful.
jiyu is on a mission once again.
part two of the same, truthfully. she strides forward with purposeful steps, confident that she is not going to mess this up like last time.
a spy never discloses secrets of their partner. she is going to have her mouth zipped up, locked.
she places the box of muffins and the envelope on your desk with her tippy toes, finding satisfaction in the way your face morphs from confusion into pleasant surprise.
“again?” you marvel at the fragrance of freshly baked muffins and she stands with hands on her sides, proud and victorious. “you don’t want to share them with your friends?”
“no! papa said this is only for you!” and it happens again, her brows rising up in shock. it doesn’t hit her until her small hands are over her mouth, wanting to take her words back. “that was a secret…”
you fail to bite back a giggle as her precious face flushes red, eyes moving all around except at your face. she cannot believe she screwed the missing again— she might just not get that hello kitty merch now.
you take a look at the pastel yellow box of muffin again, the cute marshmallow design bringing a smile to your lips. it’s evident that jiyu picked it herself. you know her enough to know she is just three things— hello kitty, marshmallows and strawberries— mostly.
“thank you, sweetheart,” you ruffle his hair, the pout on her lips only making you want to pull her into a hug. too bad, you have a job, otherwise you wouldn’t mind spending the whole day simply admiring her adorable face.
it’s the same process all over again— the envelope on your desk, jay’s handsome face in your mind, and the secret not-to-be-told that had slipped off jiyu’s lips ringing in your ears. your hands are itching to open the envelope, with utmost care, nonetheless. you would go over every crease and fold with a smile, maybe even kick your feet under the duvet while you’re giggling at every other word and scribble like you did last time.
jay has you falling for him just as deep as he has fallen for you, if not more.
butterflies house in your chest at the mere thought of him. it’s utterly unprofessional and disgustingly cute, and you haven’t even had a proper conversation with him where he is not jiyu’s father and you aren’t her teacher.
you don’t think you know him anymore than jiyu brags about— his maserati, the fact that they both have matching hello kitty headbands and that he is very, very good in the kitchen. you do want to know him more. perhaps, his favourite colour, or the book he likes.
maybe, how his hand would feel in yours— you drop the chalk amidst thinking about jay and spelling a word on the blackboard. you are going crazy, and you don’t think you want to get better anytime soon.
by the time school hours end, you make it your goal to walk jiyu to her dad yourself. the simple thought is making your heart race so fast, you can hear it echo in your ears.
and then you see him— gray suit, black locks slicked back. he is frantically trying to fix it as he catches your sight, and you chuckle under your breath, not missing the shy smile on his lips.
jay shines like gold in the setting sun, or perhaps it’s his own glow drawing you in. you are like a planet to the sun, always finding yourself revolving in orbits around him. you feel a similar flutter in your chest when he hugs jiyu like she’s his entire world— which she is.
and your breath gets caught up in your throat when his eyes finally meet yours. you notice the way he fumbles a few words again, you wonder if he knows you’re no better either.
“thank you for the muffins,” you manage to say, soft and sweet, it sounds like melodies to him. “how did you know blueberry is my favourite flavour?”
“just a lucky guess,” he says, trying to play it cool, knowing very well he scrolled through your channel to know your preferences. he knows you don’t like pineapple while chocolate is your second favourite. you’re trying to learn how to make mousse cakes and lobotomy wouldn’t even touch him because in his head, jay is already picturing the two of you baking it together.
“papa stayed up all night to bake! i helped too!” jiyu chimes in with a proud smile while jay is actively trying to disappear into the floor. she stayed up despite his hesitation, he did not want to risk her getting late to school. and now, it’s dreadful as well, because she can recite his crashouts from the night before word to word.
you grin at her words, ruffling her hair and almost melting at the contact when she leans into your touch. “no wonder they were delicious,”
“he also said your handwriting is pretty and it made his heart do a funny beat—”
and his hand flies over her tiny mouth that can’t keep secrets at all, while his face is red from the way you are looking at him. “don’t mind her,”
you swear, your heart just did a funny beat.
it’s the way he pulls her back and hushes her frantically that has you laughing under your breath. you shake your head at the pout on jiyu’s lips while he scolds her in the softest voice. he’s freaking out while trying not to be obvious about it and it’s the cutest family scene ever.
jay barely waits for another second before offering you a polite bow and walking towards his car.
“jay,” and you can hardly think before his name rolls off your tongue as if it has become a habit. “do you have something to say?”
you don’t know what you’re aiming for here.
maybe, you’ve been watching too many romcoms and reading too much into his little actions— it sounds stupid to you, even. the lilies, muffins, glittery cards and scribbled hearts can mean only one thing.
you still want to hear it from him to relieve all your doubts.
and before he could ever find words, jiyu already had a big grin on her face and eyes gleaming with impatience. “yes! papa likes—”
jay wants the earth to explode or something.
“would you look at the time? we should get going,” he drags his dear daughter to the car, ears red, cheeks flushed, barely having the courage to look you in the eye after the stunt jiyu pulled.
nonetheless, it told you exactly what you wanted to know.
you big goodbyes to other kids once the two of them are out of sight, and jay exhales heavily with his hands on the steering wheel as if he made it out of a death ring by an inch.
he looks over at his daughter who is sitting with her tiny arms crossed over her chest and the cutest frown dancing on her lips. jay knows he might have to buy an entire bakery to make it up to her.
it’s moments like this that remind him that she is much like her mother when it comes to mannerisms. she would have showered her in kisses as an apology but for now, jay will stick to bribing her with sweets if it means he can save image in front of you.
“never, ever, and i mean ever, say that in front of her,” he’s firm, soft, but also says it like a plea, like his whole life depends on that small mouth that holds big secrets.
“but it’s true! you like her!” she retorts, loud and proud. simply hearing it from her gives him a mini heart attack. “you tell her that and kiss and we live together— it’s easy!”
and jay had spent afternoons bickering with his wife that their daughter would take after him in some aspects. now, it’s biting him back since she inherited his stubborn attitude and refusal to give up.
he shifts the gears, hitting acceleration. “you’ll know when you grow up, little miss,”
and she huffs, brows furrowed. “i’m a big girl!”
OO3 MASTERPLAN
jiyu does believe she is a big girl. she’s six, big number, she can do additions in her mind and help her dear father write love letters because he is too much of a scaredy cat.
she has her lips zipped, not speaking a word about him to you for the next few days. no, she isn’t upset. it’s all a part of her big, masterplan. he didn’t spend the saturday night with a torch light under her space blanket for nothing.
the crumbled sheets of her drawing copy still lie in the trash can in her room, titled with ‘papa insert a poorly drawn heart pretty teacher’ and then scribbled off when she couldn’t devise a plan.
she didn’t give up, though, that word does not exist in her not so vast vocabulary yet. she stayed up all night looking at the glowy stars on her ceiling, lips pressed together, and then finally fisting her tiny hands with determination.
jiyu is tired of her dad fumbling every chance so she takes matters in her own tiny, glittery hands.
it’s just another busy afternoon at work for him and he’s picking jiyu up late again, warm coffee in hand, sleeves rolled up, hair tousled. he still remembers the first time he had arrived late and she was sitting alone, small legs dangling off the bench.
it was before you had joined and even though he knows you would sit next to jiyu the whole time while she’s waiting for him, it still doesn’t do much to ease his worries. if there’s one thing he hates, it’s to keep his little girl waiting.
you’re kneeling beside her cubby helping her zip up her hoodie, when he hurries inside with heavy breaths and a relieved smile at the sight of you next to jiyu.
“sorry,” he almost forgetting to breath when you smile at him, finding it hard to think straight when your eyes are on him. “i hit every red light,”
“all good,” you stand up, laughing when jiyu runs up to him and wraps her arms around his legs. “we were just having a fashion crisis,”
“papa,” jiyu says suddenly— her voice high, sweet, dangerously casual. there’s a certain glint in her eyes and god, it sets his heart off on a nervous journey. “did you know that pretty miss’ new video got so many views!”
he was almost expecting her to say something risky again— she can’t keep secrets for the life in her. although, her words bring a wave of relief to him. at least she isn’t planning to pull any stunts— for now. jay tugs her backpack over one shoulder and tilts his head. “did it?”
and he does it so innocently as if he wasn’t one of the earliest viewers in your new video, clicking the notification as soon as you posted it. he had already imagined your pretty face morphed in happiness when he saw your new video reach above a million views by the morning— yes, he opened youtube as soon as he got up.
“yes!” she exclaims, a little too excited, her ponytail swaying as she turns to you with a big grin. “papa is a big fan,”
you blink. “what?”
jay freezes, palms sweating as realisation dawns upon him. jiyu looks way too happy with no sign of wanting to stop on her face. her sharp tongue knows no bounds and he is already shaking his head in your direction to save whatever little image he has in front of you.
“i am not—” he starts, voice cracking slightly.
“yes you are!” jiyu intervenes brightly, pointing fingers and shooting daggers with her sweet giggles. “you watched the muffin video many times while making dinner, and you said you liked her voice and then you got all quiet and weird,”
the muffin video, god, jay wishes he could go back to that night and put his detective of a daughter to sleep. he thinks he’s hopeless, truthfully. he had no reason to watch your tutorial on baking muffins— he knows how to bake. he knew the ingredients even before you had gone over their names and proportions, and he remembers exactly how he had gone from sitting on the couch with his legs crossed to curling up in the corner with a cushion in his arms.
his little grin stayed hidden behind the cushion, one that grew wider every time you had smiled. you haven’t even done a face reveal on your channel but he can hear your pretty smiles flowing in your honeyed voice. you have him hooked, he scrolls through your videos even at work. jay can bet his secretary thinks he needs professional help because he keeps smiling while looking at the plain, white walls.
you stare at jay, wide eyed and at a loss of words.
and he stares at the floor like it personally betrayed him. it’s so over for him. his hand flies to his face, a heavy sigh falling of his lips, and he looks at you with pretty eyes brimming with panic. “i— okay, that’s not what happened,”
“you smiled in it,” jiyu continues, still cheerful, not wanting to stop anytime soon. she has one job— expose her lovely father because he is too much of a coward. “and he was smiling at the phone. papa is so silly!”
he can’t even look at you right now, just wanting the ground to swallow him whole or something. the sun can explode and he wouldn’t even mind. silly is not even on the list of words he would want you to describe himself as but maybe, that’s who he is— silly, some sort of loser who is hopelessly in love and impossibly shy to admit it to his crush.
you bite your lip to keep from laughing. “very silly,” your words are like a gentle jab to his heart, still not wanting to believe silly is what he is to you. “but kind of sweet,”
okay— now, he is not sure if he wants to disappear or melt at your feet. you called him sweet, it sounds like wedding bells to him. he looks over at you, you don’t look that upset at this revelation. you don’t look upset at all, not even a sliver of disgust on your face. maybe, this isn’t the end of the world. perhaps, he has a chance, or perhaps, you’re going to sit and make fun of him with your friends later over some drinks and chips.
his eyes widen, jay lets out a noise like a dying animal at the mere thought of that.
he looks over at his daughter, who is finding amusement in his misery and laughing under her tiny palms over her mouth. it’s like a game to her, one that she is winning by sacrificing her father.
“i’m gonna ban all screen time in our house,” he mutters, grabbing her arm to pull her out and away from here and just take her home. today’s father-daughter evening was going to be about an elaborate discussion on how to not embarrass your father in front of his crush. so much for big girl talks.
but jiyu pulls out of his grip immediately, helplessly adding “he gets shy when i talk about you,” with a giggle in her chirpy voice, loud and excited. “he says you have the prettiest laugh,” and at this point, he isn’t even doing it deliberately.
words flow out of her mouth like the poems she had learnt to recite to her grandparents. her eyes shine the brightest at this moment, followed by the smile that has you hooked to everything she says. jiyu had waited for this moment since forever, wanting to talk about him and you— the greatest love story in the making.
he exhales with a flare— or a plea. “jiyu,”
she shoots him glares as if it makes her pretty, doe eyes any less adorable. and you’re covering your mouth now, shoulders shaking, not sure whether to laugh or awe at his red face. your hands are aching to hold his flustered face in your palms and tell him so softly how much you want to kiss him.
jay gives you a look— half-mortified, half-defeated. his hair is tousled from the amount of times he has ran his fingers through them. “she’s lying. she’s six. no one believes six-year-olds,”
and jiyu gasps, tilting her head at him with an exaggerated pout. “you also said you like miss—”
“okay,” jay cuts in, clapping his hands and pulling her back by her bagpack. he was not going to let her drop the bomb like that. “time to go. say goodbye. we’re getting late,”
you’re barely keeping it together at their back and forth. he is basically pulling her towards the door and she keeps resisting, fighting with her pouty lips and squinty eyes.
you almost want to stop her and confront him yourself, wanting to see him squirm and stutter under your gaze until he has turned into a puddle. it’s cruel, you feel like the villains in his fake princess stories that jiyu tells you about. the idea is tempting, but you end up waving at jiyu. “bye, lovebug.”
“bye, pretty miss!” she sings sweetly, hello kitty keychain dangling off her bagpack. “tell papa you like him back!”
jay groans, practically scooping her up and backs out of the room. he can never face you after this. he’s already thinking about other good schools he can transfer jiyu to.
honestly, if it wasn’t for jiyu, you would think jay and you would still be exchanging muffins like highschoolers. unlike him, this is probably the best day you’ve had at work, and you call out to them to make it even better. “tell him his face is red again!”
and jay groans audibly down the hallway, not wanting to believe he’s still breathing through all this— and unfortunately so.
OO4 TO BELONG
jay thinks he is the unluckiest person alive.
absolutely doomed by the heavens, not even the higher deities are on his side. resigning from his job and moving to the countryside would be better. at least, he wouldn’t have to face you after the majestic event his daughter pulled the last time he saw you.
frankly, he has been avoiding you the whole week. he arrives at the school pickup on time, waiting until his little girl comes running and then he drives away with her before you can even approach him. it doesn’t make him feel any less shitty than he did for not attending the parents teacher meeting. he bailed out with some work excuse— he’s sure you’re perceptive enough to catch his lies.
jay wasn’t going to avoid you forever. he’s simply waiting for the right time. and timing be damned, because he had to have an important meeting on a weekday and his fingers were shaking over your contact. cherry on top— jiyu’s nanny had to get sick today and the neighbours had to go on a family dinner when he needed them the most. he is so sure this is an elaborate scheme to ruin his life.
this was a bad idea. yeah, why would you want to do anything with him after what happened last time? you probably think of him as some crazy, obsessed freak. it’s probably your courtesy that he doesn't have a restraining order on him yet. he’s highly expecting it anytime soon.
‘this is a bad idea,’ he thinks, but then freaks out when he clicks on the call button. worse— it connects immediately and his mind haywires, forgetting the entire concept of words and vocabulary.
“jay?” he gulps at the sound of your voice, looking at the potted plant in his office as if that succulent was going to start speaking. “jay, are you there?”
“uh— ” he wants to rip his hair out because of the weird sound he just let out. he shifts in his leather seat, fingers clutching around the phone like a lifeline. “hi,”
great.
he’s pretty sure his voice is nothing less than that of an animal shrieking in pain. he cannot believe it’s this same mind that signs off million dollar deals and can’t even hold a normal conversation with a beautiful woman.
okay, jay, breathe. this is not the end of the world. you’re just another woman— he wants to marry you, but that’s another story. besides, there’s always an option to move to the countryside and have a corn farm.
“i hate to ask this but i’m stuck in a meeting,” a pause, he’s testing the waters. a reply, anything, from you that tells him that you’re still with him. and when you don’t speak, he simply continues with dread setting deeper in his chest. “it’s going to take the whole evening. would you—?”
“of course,” you say immediately and he thinks you’re god. “i’ll take her to my place. you can rest assured,”
he practically melts in his work chair, letting out a breath that he has been holding for the past twenty minutes. you’re his saviour, like the light at the end of the tunnel. and for some reason, he feels more assured than he did when he left jiyu with anyone else before you.
he thinks he might have fallen for you once again.
he sighs in relief. “thank you— and i’m sorry for putting this on you on such a short notice,”
“it’s fine, i don’t mind spending time with her,” and you sound like you are in a hurry. you’re at the school, after all. you probably have some toddlers at each other’s hair judging from the cry he heard in the background. “i have to go— i’ll text you my address so you can pick her up later,”
“yeah—” he can barely finish his words before you hang up, and he only stares at the black screen in admiration with a dreamy smile, mumbling to himself. “thanks,”
if jay had to choose a superpower, it would be time control.
yeah, they’ve gone over this before— him and jiyu— she had picked invisibility so she could steal all the cookies. as childish as it sounds, he really wishes superpowers were real. if you hadn’t already started disliking him for his poor tricks to hit on you, he is so sure you would hate him for his absolute disaster of time management.
a blazing horn, tires screech, he whips the steering to the right— a near miss. his heart échos in his ears while his leg is still resting over the brake. the last thing he needs today is to see his death. it has to be the worst day he has ever had.
even finally pulling up in front of your apartment complex doesn’t make things better. he almost forgets to lock his car. seventh floor, unit 723— he remembers that like the back of his hand. jay barely has any time to lose before he barely waits for five seconds in front of the lift before deciding to take the stairs.
jay is convinced this is bigger than any gym workout he has ever done. hell, the two-hundred meters race on father’s day at jiyu’s school feels like a joke. he can barely feel exhaustion setting it, the urgency to see his dear princess lies second to none, even if his legs are starting to feel like jelly.
he feels like he has aged three years while running up seven floors, and simultaneously has gained ten years of lifespan when he sees your unit in sight. he rings the bell, knocks, one hand up the walls to catch his breath.
and when you finally open the door, it’s like a flood gate of words turned open. “i’m sorry. the meeting went on longer than expected and then the traffic—”
“jay, breathe,” you interrupt, half amused and half concerned. you’re trying not to feel guilty of finding him hot even now— he can barely breathe, for gods sake, but your eyes refuse to look anywhere except the glimpse of clavicle near the collar of his shirt. “you look like you ran all the way up,”
“yeah, i took the stairs—” the way he says it with huffs of breaths makes you feel bad, but you end up letting out an amused chuckle in the end. “elevators were taking too long,”
you want to hug his worries away, even though that sounds like a far dream. his hair sticks to his forehead due to sweat and you almost imagine yourself sitting next to him and tending to him with gentleness.
you watch the way his eyes scan your apartment restlessly even before he has walked past the doorway, trying to get a glimpse, a sight— you know exactly what will put his heart to ease.
“jiyu is fine. she just fell asleep,” your heart flutters as you watch your words ease his mind, and your lips break into a warm smile as you continue. “took her three bedtime stories even after playing all evening,”
you step aside and let him walk inside, and jay lets out a loud gasp at the sight of the living room— messy, opened paint bottles and brushes around with loose sheets. it looks like a disaster, he considers getting on his knees to apologise.
his eyes inadvertently move to your face and now that he looks at you again, better, you look happy, covered in glitter and cute stickers— he knows jiyu put that strawberry sticker on your cheek— and jay is swooning.
“well, we were painting,” he can hear the smile in your voice and his heart does a sommersault. his chest aches to see you playing with jiyu. “i’ll clean at up later,”
“i’ll help,” he immediately turns to you and there it is, the sparkle in his eyes, the one that you have gotten used to seeing whenever he comes to pick jiyu up after school. the sparkle that you have always wanted to see for a little longer but couldn’t because he cannot meet your eyes for longer than a minute.
and now that he is finally looking at you with an emotion somewhere between apology and gratefulness, you can’t help but admire the way he looks— his sharp features that look soft as a flower when he’s looking at you.
the silence between you both stretches and your chest tightens, and words leave your mouth like you’re caught under his spell. “okay,”
jay is already taking off his suit jacket, placing it on the armrest of your couch before undoing the cuffs of his sleeves. you basically freeze midway in the process of gathering the loose sheets painted with whatever, taking in every inch of the skin on his arm that meets your gaze as he rolls the sleeves up.
you’ve lost it, completely.
he picks up jiyu’s backpack that was lying around on the floor and swings it over his shoulder like it’s muscle memory. he arranges her shoes with his foot, immediately going for the water bottle that was lying next to the couch.
you have only managed to pick up the sheets and colours and he is already looking like some avenger with a backpack, water bottle in one hand and a bowl of water for painting in another with brushes dipped in it. he’s also somehow balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder through it all and answering to whoever it was on the other end of the call.
it feels like magic because you’re apartment already looks cleaner than it was just two minutes ago. “that was…surprisingly quick,”
he registers your words as soon as he puts his phone down on the counter, and there is it again— the shy smile that tugs at your heart strings just right. his hand flies to his nape and he manages to speak even through the loss of words. “yeah, well— i’ve been doing this for six years now,”
god, you’re addicted to that smile.
“right,” you smile, not sure if it’s at his words or how pretty he looks under those kitchen lights. you might as well be jealous of jiyu for being able to see this godly sight every day, might.
you’re still in a trance while watching him wash the excess paint off the dried brushes. you grab a cleaning towel to wipe the paint splatters off the tiles and your eyes are still glued to him— his arm, biceps, flexing through the soft material of his dress shirt.
you do see him walk over to you but you don’t move, your brain is still out of network service. you see his lips moving— his words are deaf to your ears anyway. your fingers are itching to trace over every single part of his face but you fist them around the cloth in your hand to not look crazy.
you blink once, twice— the sound of his voice calling your name gets a tad bit clearer— and then thrice before you’re finally pulled out of dreamland. “oh— yeah, sure! thanks,”
you don’t even know what you’re saying sure and thanks to. you’ve already lost your mind and you think you start losing it again when he steps closer. your heart speeds up like it’s on rocket fuel as he leans in even closer. you don’t even know what you agreed to— it can be anything between killing you and kissing you—
and you’re almost closing your eyes as if anticipating something. almost, because you feel his fingers graze tenderly over your cheek. it’s ever so gentle, like he’s afraid you’ll break.
you almost lean into his touch before he pulls away with a small smile. “there,” and he crumbles the fuckass strawberry sticker between his fingers before it finally hits you. “all clean,”
he laughs.
jay is laughing while you want to scream, probably punch into the nearest wall. you’re pretty sure you’ve embarrassed yourself but hey, so has he, many times at that, so you both are equal.
“thanks,” you manage to speak through the awkwardness. and then words vanish off your tongue again. he’s looking at you like you’ve saved his life— honestly, you might have, by looking after jiyu all evening. she is his life, his heart beat.
it’s quiet again.
and it feels like one hell of an awkward episode as you both just stand and look at each other. it’s way too quiet, save for the distant horns on the road. jay practically jumps when your table clock goes off with a robotic sound— why did you even set an alarm for ten at night?
you look like an angel wrapped in a warm sweater and trousers. white suits you and so does the glitter on your cheeks. you look like the perfect mess, and you look like you belong here— with jiyu, with him. this is bad, he needs to say something, anything.
his weight shifts from one leg to the other, an attempt at clearing his throat and well, the awkwardness. “i’m sorry for putting you up for babysitting duties all of a sudden,”
you shake your head modestly and he knows what’s coming. “it’s okay, i had fun,”
he laughs at your words, like the first gentle, relieved laugh of the day, like he can breathe after a whole day of work and worries. “she didn’t give you trouble, did she?”
you roll your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. “we get along better than you think, jay,”
and it’s the way you say his name that sends his mind into a frenzy. the way you are smiling at him, the way your eyes are sparkling with a playful glint— everything that is making him forget to breathe.
jay had actually forgotten he was here to pick his daughter up and not stand and admire you like a fool, and when he finally remembers, his feet follow behind your steps on their own while you lead him to your bedroom.
and there she is— his perfect, little girl tucked under a duvet. you’ve arranged pillows around her to prevent her from rolling over and it affects him more than it should. he almost crashes against the door, lips erupting into a fond smile at the sight of her sleeping so sound and safe.
“she’s adorable,” you can’t help but murmur. you’ll probably never tell him, but you sat by the bed for a good few minutes to admire her when she had fallen asleep.
“yeah,”
he takes quiet steps towards the bed and scoops her up in his arms like it’s a habit— and it is. jay would swear his arms would feel empty without her. she squirms drowsily and he pats her back, lulling her back to sleep with practiced ease.
you can see the fatigue behind his eyes and the exhaustion setting in his actions. he presses the softest kiss on jiyu’s forehead and the action melts your heart. you’ve always found their interactions cute, but seeing him like this— a tired mess and relishing in little form snuggled up against his chest— is the most special.
he walks towards the main entrance and words end up slipping off your tongue before you know it. “you’re not staying for dinner?”
you’re just as surprised as him, honestly.
he’s still looking at you with the same soft look on his face. you’re starting to think that dinner with him isn’t exactly a bad idea, not at all.
“no, you look like you could use some nice sleep,” he sighs, and you open your mouth to protest even though you’re disappinted, but he beats you to it. “you’ve already done more than enough,”
maybe, you actually need some sleep.
taking care of a kid is hard, you’ve realised it several times today. if it wasn’t for her non-stop narration on why you should watch kpop demon hunters, you would have fallen asleep on the couch before her. although, you would look after jiyu again without question. he simply has to say the word.
it also has to do with the fact that you still haven’t stopped ogling at his arms, not like you’re ever going to say that out loud.
your eyes meet again when he stands at the doorway, none of you knowing what to say. he’s still caressing her back, making sure she doesn’t wake up. it’s oddly captivating, you want to know how his hands would feel wrapped around you.
your gaze traces over his face, then lips, then back up to meet his eyes so you don’t look like some creep to him. this was a perfect way to end a day and you would hate to ruin it with your inability to take your eyes off him.
he takes a deep breath, not really wanting to leave but he knows that’s not possible. at least, not yet. “see you,”
you nod with a quiet “good night,” and then you close the door, crashing against it with the sweetest smile.
oh, you’re so done for.
OO5 MATCHMAKER
you haven’t seen jay in over five days and it’s the worst thing ever. the first two days, jiyu called in sick, and the next three, you had to visit your parents for your father’s birthday. you’d be lying if you say you did not think about him all the time— day, noon and night.
despite you telling everyone that nothing was wrong, you constantly checked your phone for texts from him, the last ones being about jiyu being sick from two days ago. and well, you did reply, two days ago, of course, hoping that she gets well soon, and then succumbed to hesitation as you went back and forth between to message or to not message.
and now that you’re back to work, jiyu is once again looking at you with determined eyes and a mischievous smile, tiptoeing over your desk. “papa made pancakes for you,”
once again, in front of you, lies a cute box, pastel green this time, with a cherry sticker. you’re going to lose your mind out of cuteness overload one of these days. she slides a small card towards you and your heart skips several beats. all this feels like some high school love story with jiyu playing the perfect cupid.
“were you supposed to tell me that?” you chuckle, based on her history spilling secrets that he trusts her to hide.
you flip open the card and this time, it’s written in his own handwriting— neat yet a bit hurried, every stroke and curve making the smile on your face grow bigger. your name looks prettier when it’s written by him, like something that belong right next to his name.
“yes!” jiyu’s chimes in, almost jumping in excitement. “he also said you should come for dinner,”
“dinner?”
“he cooks really well! and he wants to say thank you,” and of course, she is not letting up any opportunity to praise her father. if jay had a sponsor, it would be her and it’s no surprise. if jay has a million fans, she is one of them. if jay has one fan, it’s her and, if jay has no fans, she is dead.
she went off in front of her grandparents on her third birthday and his friends about how amazing he is at making soup. she couldn’t even remember her nursery rhymes well but she would never shy away from standing in the middle of the living room and give a proper speech on the chef of a dad that she has.
and she is confident in her words, even if they are stuttery and pronounced wrong, sounding like the usual baby rambles. jay can do anything and he would always have a tiny, adorable voice cheering on him.
you slide the note inside your purse, knowing it’s going to stay in your drawer like some precious treasure. you basically spend the rest of the working hours shaking with excitement to see him. you taught subtractions, gripping the chalk a little too tightly in anticipation.
you feel like a victorian lady who can’t wait to see her husband as he returns from the war. the thought itself makes your mind go fuzzy, you’re afraid you mind end up saying something wrong and scaring him away ( even though it’s not possible because jay will want you even if you are a little crazy. )
when the head assigns you to review some student profiles after work, you almost wanted to snap her head off with your bare hands. you hate staying beyond the working hours, more when you know it can very well ruin your only chance of seeing jay today after a whole week of torture.
but, it’s like even the stars are rooting for both of you because you receive a text from him and he is late again— much to his disappointment— and you have never loved the traffic so much before.
you stay with jiyu after school, she is talking about planets. her favourite is saturn because she read that it rains diamonds up there, and you try your best to not look impatient while waiting for the horn of his car that has now become familiar to your ears.
“do you like papa?” jiyu looks up at you with her big, curious eyes, legs dangling off the swing you both are sitting on. she blinks at you a few times, waiting for a response while holding the lollipop in one hand. “he’s nice,”
she’s making round patterns on the sand with her shoes and just as you were about to reply, he arrives, finally, you straighten yourself as you watch him hurry out of the car and close the door a little too loudly behind him.
jay practically runs inside, anxious eyes looking for jiyu until they finally meet her tiny form running towards him. she’s lifted off the ground even before she could respond, her giggles erupting in the air as he drowns her face in fleeting kisses.
then his gaze meets yours, and both your heartbeats start going off like a time bomb— straight out of a movie. you look happier to see him than usual and he is already working up his mind to come up with something.
“about dinner— will saturday be okay?” you cringe internally. that came off as way more excited than you intended. obviously, you don’t want to come off too strong even if you are literally shaking like a manic at the thought of having dinner with him.
“dinner?” he looks down at the tug at his sleeve. it’s jiyu, she’s looking up at him with a grin, and she winks. oh. “saturday is…perfect,”
he doesn’t understand whether to pat jiyu’s back and give her the trophy for being better at this than cupid, if he exists, or if he should lecture on why she can’t invite you over for dinner one fine saturday, under his name, because it’s inappropriate.
although, all his worries are thrown out of the window when he sees the enchanting smile tugging at your lips— dinner be it, hell yeah. he might just invite you over for a five course meal everyday if you are going to look at him like that.
“i’ll see you then,” you nod, and jay was going to make sure the upcoming saturday is the best one you’ve had in your entire life.
you had said saturday to buy yourself four days worth of preparation for the dinner as if it was your marriage dinner. well— it’s just as important, and you don’t know how the said saturday arrived so quickly because you’re standing in front of your closet, looking for the perfect dress.
you have to be going insane. even the new one you bought recently suddenly looks like the ugliest fit you’ve ever had.
you wonder if you should cancel, postpone, and then almost slap yourself back to senses.
no cancellations. you've been waiting for this dinner religiously.
after digging through your closet like you’re going to find gold, you finally end up with something. well, at least it’s new and compliments your skin tone. at least, it looks perfect with your favourite pendant and that is all the confidence you need to go through this dinner.
an hour later, you’re standing nervously in front of his door, fixing any creases on your dress with urgency and nervousness. there’s a box of pineapple shortcakes in one hand for jiyu and a bottle of pinot noir in another. google said it’s a perfect choice for romantic dinners— something about its light body and earthy tones— not like you are expecting anything to happen, by the way.
you press the doorbell, anxiously shifting from leg to the other, biting your inner cheeks. and as if on cue, jay opens the door with a warm smile that makes your face heat up.
“hi,” is all you’re able to say because well, the way he is looking at you is making your mouth run dry. the navy blue cardigan hugs his frame loosely and his hair is no longer styled back. the strands float above his eyes like a veil and you find yourself aching to brush them away to get a clearer look at those dreamy eyes and drown in them.
you’ve only ever seen him in poised suits and rolled up dress shirts with loosened ties, it has made you forget that he definitely doesn’t only wear formals. and frankly, he looks much better in casuals, so much that you’ve come to two conclusions :
first, jay looks way too good in cardigans for your heart health. you might as well get a heart attack at the sight.
and second, you need this date to get somewhere. hopefully, the pinot noir will do its job.
“hi,” he steps aside, gesturing to you to come in. “you should come inside— i’m almost done,”
and it feels surreal to be in his apartment, his place.
it’s nothing like yours and everything like a home that belongs to a family. there are photo frames of him and jiyu in every corner, even on the kitchen island next to the flower vase. her crayon drawings cover the entire fridge door and of course, there is hello kitty on mugs, posters.
the best of all, the entire place smells like a mouth watering cuisine as you see him return to the kitchen. you try your best to not ogle at the food like you haven’t eaten in a hundred years. “anything i can help with?”
“no need, i’m almost done,”
you stand across him, putting the cake and wine on the counter, watching his perfect hands flip the steak over with practiced precision. the sizzle only adds to your appetite. “i don’t mind helping, really,”
“well, you can just sit there and look pretty for me,” he doesn’t even know where these words are coming from.
both of you are equally flustered, barely meeting gazes before they flutter away. you sit on the stool at the counter, right across him, getting the best view of his handsome face glowing like a gem underneath the warm kitchen lights.
“okay,” you let the silence engulf both of you in the comfort of its embrace. it’s not awkward anymore, the faint smiles on both of your lips speaking for the lack of words. “where’s jiyu?”
he looks up from the grill, meeting your beautiful eyes. “with the neighbour’s kid. they suddenly wanted to have a sleepover,”
he says those words with an unamused sigh, still smiling, turning up the flame.
sneaky little thing.
not only she set both of you up for this thank you dinner but she also ran off to her friend’s. sleepover was an excuse, he knew that the second she approached him with puppy dog eyes and a pleading pout to manipulate him. she knows he can never say no to her when she looks at him like that.
well, he is thankful, even after she embarrassed him in front of you. he is glad that his little, matchmaker of a daughter pulled some tricks or else, he would still be sending you tiffins full of baked goodies and cute notes written by her.
you watch him set the plates and fetch the wine glasses. it feels like the perfect date night, better than any five star restaurant can offer, and the cute bowls and mugs on the shelves behind him only make everything better.
“so, what else do you do, aside from being a full-time dad— and watching my videos, obviously?” you ask with a teasing smile, feeling more confident than you were a week ago.
and jay groans visibly, ears flushing red almost immediately. of course, you are bringing that up, he wants to disappear into thin air. “please forget that. jiyu has no filter,”
you fold your hands over the counter with a huff. “and i’m glad she doesn’t. i don’t think you would have told me you’re a fan otherwise,”
and boy, jay was a whole air conditioner in fact.
he would spend his evenings watching your baking videos and his nights were filled with shy grins under the duvet, thinking about the way you had smiled at him at the school pickup.
he would never say it to anyone— it’s so embarrassing, he hides his face in the mattress whenever he thinks of it at night, but he has spent days admiring you from afar, watching you interact with kids and their parents. he would sit in his car and try to calm his heart down, hoping he manages to say something more than a hello and a thank you.
he even feels a tinge of jealousy at the sight of you laughing with the kids and kissing their cheek, as insane as it sounds.
will you ever kiss me?
his knees go wobbly at the thought and he almost smiles to himself, forgetting you’re sitting right in front of him. he ( and his daughter ) has already done enough damage to his cool and sauve image in front you, he definitely doesn’t want you to run away because you think of him as some mad man giggling to himself.
he can feel your gaze follow every single motion of his hand, the way he scatters pepper over the butter and thyme in the pan before stirring in the shallots. it’s like a game, he feels a sense of victory knowing he has you hooked— and it’s true. you have watched countless people cooking the most delicious meals in their own magnificent ways, but nothing was ever as hypnotic as him, nothing even comes close.
he carefully flambé’s the shallots in brandy and flame until it dies down, unlike the one in your chest that only ignites further when he gives you a charming smirk from across the stove. your face heats up and you don’t know if it’s because of him or the warmth of the kitchen, you don’t bother answering that question to yourself.
with a few more steps that felt like watching a magician in his show, you had the perfect steak diane served drizzled with sauce in front of you. “hope you enjoy,”
you were going to enjoy it.
the plate looks like it’s straight out of a cooking magazine, the wine that he pours on the side only elevating the taste of the whole meal. you wait for him to join you and he sits in front of you with expectant eyes waiting for your review. you’ve seen this movie before, the same pupils gleaming with anticipation and excitement. you almost feel compelled to give jiyu extra stars when she looks at you the same way as he is right now, and you think it’s only valid to give him stars too.
you slice the steak with your knife and take a bite, immediately melting onto the table itself. “this is so—” gosh, you hear him chuckle when you try to speak through a mouthful of food. you decide that it doesn’t even matter anymore. “—amazing,”
he smiles at your words and digs in— honestly, you’re too busy savouring the taste of steak and shallots to even pay attention to what he is doing. you came for the man, stayed for the food, it’s hard to believe he has all these skills hidden up his messily rolled sleeves on workdays.
the dinner is quiet, for the most part, save for the occasional clinking of cutlery and soft thank yous that he mutters to you for accepting his— or more accurately, jiyu’s— invitation. your legs accidentally touch under the table and he immediately averts his gaze, cheeks shot red. he apologises, soft and shy, gulping down the sip of wine and his nervousness.
it’s cute, you hold yourself back from reaching out and placing your hand on his. if it wasn’t for hesitation coursing through your veins, you might have done it already, and perhaps he would have too.
maybe it’s the wine but you find yourself unable to take your eyes off him— not like you had it any better before. the way he fills up your wine glass with politeness adoring his every move has you in a trance. you’ve noticed all those business awards and the ‘best dad’ certificate on the wall that was made by jiyu herself. he checks all the boxes— the perfect employee to the perfect dad, and a perfect man.
your words stand confirmed all over again when you step aside to use the restroom after dinner and by the time you get back, he is already putting the dishes in the sink after cleaning up the kitchen, and he is effortlessly quick with it too.
you do lose your mind over those broad shoulders and tiny waist, it’s making you feel all tingly in the chest and stomach. and after spending several minutes admiring him from behind, you find the courage to stand right next to him. “let me help,”
and it’s like you’ve said something controversial because jay is looking at you wide eyed and raised brows with disbelief written all over his face. “please, you don’t have—”
“i insist,”
the silence overtakes again.
your gazes meet and he shifts awkwardly, accidentally brushing his arm against yours, and suddenly his spacious modular kitchen feels too small for even two people. his ears turn red but he doesn’t look away and neither do you.
his eyes scan your face, then travel down to your lips before coming back at your face, and none of you look away. maybe, the pinot noir is doing it’s job. maybe, things are getting somewhere—
and then he shifts away, clearing his throat. “okay,”
honestly, jay is freaking out.
he doesn’t know how he is still standing next to you and breathing normal and not screaming while crashing out on the floor. you give him a cute smile every time he looks down at you and god, it is making him want to hold your face in his shaky hands and cry his eyes out.
it all feels so domestic, like you belong here, right next to him. nobody would have expected you both to be washing dishes on your first ( unofficial, self-proclaimed ) date. if he was any braver, he would have you right next to you on the couch with a movie playing on the tv screen. but, since he is far from anything mentioned above, he relishes in doing dishes with you.
and it’s heavenly, because the second your hand brushes against his under water in the sink, it’s like electricity running through his body and short circuiting his brain. he doesn’t know what to do— should he apologise? should he hold your hand? should he ignore and wait for it to happen again?
you aren’t even looking at him and continue to wash the same plate for the last ten minutes— not like he minds— and he wants to explode. that seems like the most plausible option at the moment.
the air is turning awkward again and he constantly taps his foot over the tile, finding words to break the silence. he watches you put the plate away before picking up the bowl, and he can’t help the next words that leave his mouth. “you’re good at this,”
great.
just amazing.
jay dies a little on the inside when you laugh at his words, the sound almost mocking his question. “at washing dishes?”
he wants to jump out of the window. billions of words in the english language and his mind came up with the worst four possible right now. he needs to save himself somehow. “yeah, you’re uh— skilled,”
stop.
just shut up.
you’re laughing at him, and of course you would be. you probably think he is the stupidest person to exist, even the kids at the kindergarten might be smarter than him. he doesn’t even trust himself to say something better anymore. when you’re this close to him, all his senses are destroyed.
you reach out to push a loose strand of hair back with your forearm, and he reaches out to wipe his hand almost instinctively before tucking your hair behind your ear. his hand stays there for a while like it’s a scene straight out of a romance show, his eyes refusing to leave your surprised ones.
his focus averts to your lips again, the way you nip at it nervously only makes it harder for him to think straight. he considers leaning in— it’s barely a few inches. but he steps back, and his touch lingers over your skin even after he pulls away.
he’s still thinking about it while scooping ice cream for two. you look so pretty leaning against the kitchen island and taking in every detail with utmost care, it makes him freeze by the refrigerator with two bowls of ice cream in his hands.
“here,” you smile when he hands you one, and jay stares at you with keen eyes as you take a spoonful in your mouth. it’s strawberry, too sweet for his liking, but jiyu mentioned once that you like strawberries and he hopes it’s your preference in ice creams too.
“what?” he doesn’t realise he’s staring until you call him out, and he smacks himself internally for getting lost in you again, not like he can help it.
“nothing just…” words trail off while he rubs his nape for a decent answer, looking at the shelves as if begging for help. “i, uh, hope you like that flavour,”
that was good.
“it’s good,” you say with a smile so sweet, it makes the ice cream taste bland. “but i prefer cookies and cream,”
and for some reason, that brings a smile to his face too. cookies and cream— so much like you, yet nothing that he could have guessed. well, it’s just the first dinner together and you’re like a box of surprises that he wishes to unwrap slowly and carefully, only seeing what you’re willing to show.
“i’ll remember that for the next time,” and it’s more of a promise than a statement. there is s a wishful certainty for a next time for something in the way you’re looking at him tells him that you want it to happen too.
you’re enjoying the ice cream in silence and he’s enjoying the sight of you, but again, what’s new? you look up at him again, glowing ever so perfectly under the yellow lights hanging from the ceiling. every single feature on your face shines like gold, and jay doesn’t know where all this bravery is coming from but he finds himself inching towards you.
he takes it slow, hesitant in his own actions. it’s like he’s waiting for your reaction, anything more than just your eyes landing on his lips before moving away. he wouldn’t mind if you choose to leave, despite the heartbreak, but when you turn to face him with the same look, he knows he has you for now.
it’s like the air shifts around you and suddenly, the lack of space doesn’t feel so bad. “can i?”
“i thought you’d never ask,” you nod— it’s all jay needs to know.
the next second, his lips are on yours, barely moving. he’s still unsure, wondering if you are too, if you want to pull away. but when you don’t— when you give in and press your lips against his, leaning into him— he feels like he can breathe again.
he puts his bowl away and takes yours to do the same, hands immediately going around your waist to pull you flush against him. you’re backed against the counter and he is somewhere between losing himself in the thrill and keeping himself grounded.
the kiss deepens, he lets you lead and his lips follow yours, slow yet insistent. you pull at his cardigan and he cups your cheeks ever so tenderly, wanting to get lost in you and never find a way out. it’s dizzying, the way your hands rest on the back of his neck, the way he can almost feel your heartbeat against his chest and the way it is almost in sync with his.
he smells like oud and something you can’t name but it’s clouding your senses and everything feels so right. his hand trails down the curve of your waist like he’s worshipping you and your breath hitches when he draws you even closer, if it was even possible.
jay pulls away a little, his forehead against yours. he takes in your sight— lips red while you’re breathing in short huffs. it feels like he’s falling for you all over again. “i’ve been waiting to do that for so long,”
“me too,” and your words are like a wave of relief pulling him in as he captures your lips in another kiss. it’s more playful this time, he can feel you smiling while your hands ghost up his neck and travel down to intertwine with his.
he still cannot believe this is real, and even if it’s not he doesn’t want it to stop. although, it does when you give him a few more pecks before pulling back with a grin, as if proud of the needy pout on his lips.
“stay for the night?” he murmurs, still cupping your cheeks. he tries to hold back, but ends up pecking your lips anyway. “it’s raining outside anyway. i’m not letting you drive in this weather,”
and you nod, pressing yet another peck against his lips as you bring his arm to circle around your waist. “only if you make pancakes for breakfast,”
ㅤ◞ ⩊ ◟ㅤ — hi to everyone who read this omg i love you with my entire heart ◜ᯅ◝ i think the writing process here started good and then turned into something. i hope it wasn’t obvious that i just wanted to get over with this by the last section lolsies .. anyway single dad jay you will always be loved
Summary: You knew Jay was big, but every time he has you on his cock, it still shocks you how much he fills you up. Jay loves the way your body struggles to take him, and tonight, he’s determined to push you past your limit.
Pairing: Jay × Reader
Genre: Smut, Established Relationship, Kinktober Prompt
Warnings: Size kink, rough sex, heavy dirty talk, a bit of manhandling, stretching/pain-pleasure mix, praise & degradation, creampie, overstimulation, Jay being a cocky menace.
[Kinktober Masterlist] [Masterlist]
Your thighs tremble as you straddle Jay’s lap, knees digging into the couch cushions. He’s already hard, thick cock flushed and heavy against his stomach, and you swear you can feel the weight of it pressing into you before you’ve even sunk down.
You try, fuck, you try, to lower yourself carefully, but the stretch is instant, merciless. Just the blunt head pushes inside, your tiny cunt already fluttering like it’s overwhelmed, squeezing tight around the swollen crown. You whimper, hands clutching his broad shoulders for balance, nails dragging over his skin.
Jay leans back, watching you with that smug, infuriating smirk curling his lips. His palms slide up your sides to your waist, holding you steady while you squirm. “Look at that,” he drawls, voice dripping with amusement, “barely an inch and you’re already whining.”
You bite your lip, head dropping against his as you try to breathe through the burn. The heat of him is too much, the stretch bordering on painful, yet your slick keeps spilling down his shaft, proof of how badly your body wants it.
“God, you’re so fucking small,” he groans, thumb stroking your hipbone. “Tiny little pussy can’t even handle my tip. You feel me splitting you already, huh?”
You nod desperately, hips rolling shallowly just to feel him drag against your walls. It’s intoxicating, the way he stretches you, the way your cunt clings to him like it never wants to let go.
Jay chuckles low, leaning close enough to let his lips graze your ear. “And you want more, don’t you, baby? Greedy little thing, trying to swallow down something you can’t even fit.”
His cock twitches inside you, and your body clenches so tight around him that he hisses, grip on your waist tightening. “Fuck, I can feel you squeezing, like your pussy’s begging me to ruin it.”
Your breath comes in broken gasps, every shift of your hips making his thick head drag at your walls. “T-too much,” you whine, head falling forward against his shoulder, body trembling. “Jay! Fuck! It’s too much!”
His laugh is low, dark, vibrating through his chest where you’re pressed against him. “Too much?” he echoes, squeezing your hips until his fingers dig bruises into your skin. “Baby, I’ve barely given you anything. You’re crying over my tip, and you think that’s too much?”
Before you can answer, his hands move, gripping your waist, his muscles flexing as he suddenly forces you down, your slick hole swallowing another few inches of his cock in one brutal thrust.
You scream, the sound caught between pleasure and pain, nails raking across his shoulders as the stretch makes your pussy throb violently around him.
“Shhh,” Jay coos mockingly, mouth brushing your ear as you pant and shudder. “I know it hurts, baby. I know. This tiny pussy wasn’t built for a cock this big, was it?” He thrusts his hips up shallowly, forcing another inch into your clenching heat, making you gasp and cry out again.
Your walls flutter helplessly around him, struggling to accommodate his girth. You’re panting, broken sobs spilling out between gasps of air. “Too much! Fuck, Jay—it’s too much, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His voice sharpens, dominance pouring through every word. His grip hauls you down further, until he’s almost fully sheathed inside, the pressure dizzying. “You will. You’re gonna take every last inch of me, no matter how tiny this hole is. I’ll fucking make you.”
Your eyes roll back as he bottoms you out, his cock seated deep, the blunt head kissing your cervix. The fullness is unbearable, stretching, splitting, burning, and yet your body pulses around him, wet and desperate.
Jay groans, forehead pressing against yours. “That’s it. Fuck. Look at that, fuck, you’re stuffed full of me, baby. I told you this pussy was made for me.” He grinds his hips up into you, and your whimper breaks into a sob.
Your chest heaves against his, sweat slicking your skin as your walls throb around the impossible stretch. Jay barely gives you a moment to breathe before his hands tighten on your waist and he starts to move you, lifting you up just enough for his thick length to drag against your clenching walls, then slamming you back down with bruising force.
You cry out, voice breaking, nails clawing down his back. “Jay! Fuck, f–fuck, too much!”
“Shut up,” he growls against your lips, kissing you hard and messy, swallowing the sound of your protests. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark, hungry. “You can take it. You’re mine. This tiny little pussy belongs to me, so it stretches for me, no matter how much it hurts.”
Each word is punctuated by another brutal thrust upward, his cock battering your insides until you feel him everywhere, until your body trembles violently from the overstimulation. Your thighs shake, your hips stutter, but Jay doesn’t slow, if anything, he’s fucking you harder, bouncing you on his cock like you’re nothing but a toy.
Tears prick your eyes as you gasp and pant, but your pussy grips him tighter, soaking his cock, betraying you. He laughs low, cruel, tilting his head back. “Hear that? Listen to how wet you are. You’re crying it’s too much but this greedy little hole is dripping all over me.”
His thumb slides down, pressing against your clit in ruthless circles while he pounds into you. You choke on a moan, your vision going hazy as your body spasms.
“That’s it, baby,” he hisses, chest rising with exertion, sweat dampening his hairline. “Take it. Take all of me. You’re perfect like this, stretched open, stuffed full. No one else could ever fuck you like this. Only me. Only my cock.”
Your walls seize around him, tight spasms squeezing his cock as you come hard, a scream ripping from your throat. Jay doesn’t stop, his pace only gets rougher, using your convulsing pussy to milk himself deeper.
“Good girl,” he grunts, fucking you through the high. “So tight, so tiny, ruined for anyone else.”
Your orgasm wracks through you violently, but Jay doesn’t stop. If anything, he uses it as an excuse to get rougher, fucking up into you so hard your body bounces helplessly in his grip. Your pussy spasms around him, still fluttering, clenching tight like you’re trying to push him out, but he won’t let you.
“Don’t fight it,” he snarls against your mouth, teeth grazing your lower lip before he bites down. “This is what that tiny cunt’s for, squeezing me, choking on me, milking me dry.”
You sob into his shoulder, voice breaking, your nails leaving angry red streaks down his back as you choke on gasps. “C-can’t—Jay, I c-can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His grip is merciless, hauling you up only to slam you back down again, his cock hitting so deep you see stars. “You’ll take every inch until I say you’re done. You’ll let me ruin you until this little pussy remembers who it belongs to.”
Your second orgasm hits before the first one has even faded, your walls clamping down so hard it’s almost painful. A sob tears from your throat as slick gushes down his thighs, soaking him, and you’re shaking so hard you can barely breathe.
Jay only groans, eyes dark with hunger, lips curved into that cocky smirk even as his jaw tightens with restraint. “That’s my girl,” he growls, his thrusts sharper, deeper, relentless. “Cumming all over my cock even when you say it’s too much. You love it. This pussy loves me splitting it open.”
He drags you down harshly, grinding deep, making you cry out. “No one else could ever fill you like this. No one else could stretch you this wide. You’re mine, baby. My perfect, tiny cunt to wreck.”
You’re beyond words now, just moaning and gasping, your body trembling violently as wave after wave crashes through you. Every nerve feels raw, your clit throbbing painfully as his thumb circles it without mercy. Tears streak your cheeks, your voice hoarse from crying out his name.
Jay buries his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck! You’re squeezing the life out of me.” His hips snap up, pounding into you harder, faster, chasing his release. “Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna stuff you full of my cum until it’s leaking out of you for days.”
The filthy promise makes you shudder, another orgasm ripping through you so hard your vision whites out. You scream, body going limp in his hold, but Jay doesn’t let up.
“Take it,” he grits out, his pace turning sloppy as his cock throbs deep inside you. “Take all of me, tiny girl. You’re mine to ruin, mine to fuck, mine to breed—”
With a final thrust, he bottoms out, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you. Hot, thick spurts of cum flood your cunt, filling you so full you can feel it seep past his length. You whimper brokenly, walls clenching and fluttering around him, milking every drop.
Jay holds you there, pressed flush against his chest, his cock still buried deep as he grinds lazily into you, making sure not a single drop escapes. His lips find your ear, his voice low, smug, and wrecked.
“Stay right there, baby. Don’t even think about moving. You’re plugged full, just like you should be.” His hand strokes your back almost tenderly, but his smirk is wicked. “This pussy was made for me, and now it’s mine. Always.”
You’re still gasping, body trembling uncontrollably as the aftershocks wrack you. Jay just kisses the corner of your mouth, his cock still twitching inside you, heavy and hot.
“Look at you,” he whispers, proud and cruel all at once. “A ruined mess on my lap, stuffed full of my cock and my cum. Perfect.”
And when you whimper softly, overstimulated and aching, he only chuckles, hips rolling just enough to make you jolt. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet, baby. You’ll take me again, and again, until this tiny cunt forgets what it’s like not to be stretched wide open.”
Jay keeps himself buried inside you, the warmth of his cock making every nerve raw and alive. His hands roam your body almost possessively, one circling over your ruined, stretched folds, slow and teasing, dragging slick over your walls. You gasp, hips jerking slightly against the friction even though he isn’t moving, completely overstimulated, every touch amplifying the ache and pleasure that still roars through you.
His other hand drifts lazily over your stomach, fingers pressing against the hard bulge of his spent cock, tracing the way it pulses inside you. He hums low, satisfied, almost predatory, as if he’s marking every inch of you. “Look at this mess,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your clit in soft, deliberate circles. “All ruined for me… all wet and stretched just how I like it.”
You whimper, hips lifting on instinct, and he lets a slow, cocky laugh rumble through his chest. “You love it, don’t you? Still clenches around me even when you can barely stand it. Such a greedy little pussy. Mine.”
He tilts his head, lips brushing against your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll clean you up,” he says, voice low and teasing, “but I’m not letting you go yet. This little hole? Still mine, and I’m not done with it, not even close.”
Every slow circle over your folds, every press against your stomach, makes your body shudder again, overstimulated and raw. You’re trembling, coated in your combined mess, yet completely helpless, and Jay is utterly smug, a cocky, possessive menace even in the aftermath.
Finally, he sinks a hand under your thighs, holding you flush to him, still plugged deep, and whispers, “Relax. You’re mine. Always… and look at how perfectly I ruin you.”
Your body is shaking, overstimulated, dripping, and stretched beyond anything you thought possible, but his touch, slow and deliberate, makes you feel claimed, used, and impossibly desired all at once.
❛ 𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗧 👜 established relationship!jay & fem!rea ─── 𝘄 ⠀clinginess⠀drunken affection⠀late night kisses⠀soft skinship ✶ ( 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌 )
The heavy thud against the front door tells you everything you need to know before you even turn the handle. It’s 2:00 AM, and Jay is currently leaning his entire body weight against the wood, squinting at the keyhole.
When you finally pull it open, he practically topples forward. You catch him, his chin dropping onto your shoulder, and the immediate scent of expensive gin and cold night air hits you.
"Found you," he mumbles, his mumbles against your neck. He smells like alcohol, and he hugs you so tightly that you could barely breathe.
"You're a mess, Jay," you huff, trying to hook your arms under his to haul him inside.
"I'm a masterpiece," he corrects, tripping over his own feet as you navigate him toward the sofa. He’s usually so coordinated, but right now his legs are clearly not cooperating with him. He collapses onto the cushions, dragging you down with him because he refuses to let go of your wrist.
"Shoes off. Now," you command, reaching for his laces.
He watches you with this dazed, loopy grin, his head lolling back against the leather. "You’re really pretty. Has anyone told you? Like, extremely pretty. I should get your number."
"I'm your girlfriend, you idiot."
"Score," he whispers to himself, looking genuinely thrilled by the news.
Getting him into bed is a workout. He’s at that stage of drunk where he’s convinced he can help, which actually means he’s just getting in the way more. When you finally get his shirt off and manage to shove a glass of water into his hand, he just stares at it and then gives it back to you.
"Drink it," you say, pushing the glass back toward his face.
"Only if you stay," he bargains, his eyes suddenly going all soft and glassy. The jay everyone knows has completely evaporated, leaving behind this needy, clingy version of himself that only you ever get to see.
He downs the water in one go, then immediately flops sideways, pulling you into the tangle of sheets with him. His hands are clumsy, wandering under the hem of your shirt to find the skin of your waist, his touch warm and frantic. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing a sloppy kiss there.
"Stupid work dinner," he grumbles, his words slurring into your skin. "Missed you. Thought about your face during the whole appetizer... thingy."
"The thingy?" you laugh, your fingers finally finding his hair, gently scratching at the scalp.
"Yeah. The shrimp. It looked like a toe. I wanted to come home." He nuzzles closer, his breath hot and steadying as he finally starts to drift off. "Don't leave. Even when I'm being a loud annoyance tomorrow morning, don't leave."
"I'm staying, Jay. Go to sleep."
He gives one final, contented hum, his grip on you tightening just a fraction more as he drifts off, finally quiet and home.
𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 : can't believe i never wrote for my husband well, so here's my first fic of jay :3
☆ ( 星星 ) ... "jay loves to take care of you, and it is his duty as your boyfriend to fulfill all your needs." ‘ 连字符 ’ ♡ :
── ˙ ̟ ★ pairing: bf!jay + fem!reader ⟡ !
── ˙ ̟ ★ genre: smut (unprotected sex (don't!), f recieving, p in v, dom!jay, sub!reader, praise, jay has a oral fixation lol, implied breeding, nicknames: baby, doll, beautiful girl, love, angel, pretty girl...) ⟡ !
── ˙ ̟ ★ wc: 3.2k
╰ a/n: i'm back from the dead ! @hoonlubbylubr my love, this is for youu !! happy 19th to my fav girl isa ! i love you so much please :(( all my homies talking ab post 'fatal trouble' recording jay, so i had to :<
part two can be read here !
jay is a provider, he’s calm, responsible, and incredibly in tune with you, even before you say anything. and he takes pride in it, in making sure you’re cared for, safe and all your needs are well attended to — physically, mentally and emotionally.
he notices when you’re tired, even before you utter a word. you’re barely through the door, and he’s already pulling you into his arms, reaching for the bag on your shoulder, slipping it off for you and putting it on the console next to the door, his embrace never slipping.
“long day?” he’d whisper, guiding you to sit down on the couch and rest, while he goes to fetch you a glass of water and heat up something to eat.
his love language is acts of service. he’s the type to silently refill the snack drawer when all your favorite ones are over. he’s the type to shift you into a comfortable position and drape a blanket over your resting body, when you fall asleep on the couch. he’s the type to remind you to take your meds, or drink water, or to eat something, when you’re busy and get forgetful, whether it’s by text or in person.
“you don’t have to do everything alone, y’know?” he’d murmur into your ear when you’re overwhelmed, holding you close, one hand stroking your head, the other rubbing your back gently — embracing you like he wants to absorb the weight from your shoulders.
jay is the type to handle things even before you realize they needed to be taken care of. the umbrella in his hand is already open and over your head when you feel the faintest drizzle of rain. he’s already called up a taxi, when he notices you’re too tired to walk.
he doesn’t get angry often, but if someone disrespects you or makes you uncomfortable? his voice drops, expression sharpens, and his posture is rigid, jaw tense and fists clenched tight. “if you have a problem, talk to me, come to me, deal it with me. don’t bring my girl into this.” his blank stare is enough to silence anyone, and he will make it known that boundaries are being crossed.
jay knows you’re strong and independant. he knows you can do things on your own. even if you’re completely capable, it stirs something in him when you ask him to help with little things. carrying heavy bags? yes. opening tightly sealed jars? done. helping you reach for the mugs in the higher cabinets? absolutely. holding your hand when you’re nervous? you bet.
he loves it when you rely on him. when you call him first for anything? he won’t say it aloud often, but the proud glint in his eyes, the light grin tugging his lips, his cheery tone that gives it out that he’s smiling even when you can’t see him, speak for him.
he’s at his desk now, in a casual white button up and black slacks, skimming through report folders, that’ve been driving him up the wall. you stood in the doorway of his study, slightly dishevelled from having just woken up, observing him. his oversized t-shirt hung heavy on your frame, one side slipping off just enough to bare your shoulder, the hem brushing your mid-thigh. you were craving his attention, his touch, his love, but you didn’t want to disturb him — not that he’d ever think that you were. really, all you had to do was look at him, with that soft, pliant gaze of yours, full of the yearning for his attention, and he’d comply.
you looked at him at that moment, like you needed him to hold you together, take care of you — like being apart, even for this short moment, was already starting to fray you at the edges.
jay hadn’t even heard your footsteps, but the second he looked up and saw your frame peeking out from the doorway, he smiled, his assumptions of your presence and unwavering gaze confirmed. the second he looked up and saw that look in your eyes — his chair scraped back without hesitation, as the slight crease on his brow smoothed out immediately, the frustration melting away like it was never there to begin with.
“come here love,” he said, already opening his arms, his gaze locked on you, the reports in his hand fell back on to the desk with a soft thud. because he knew that look, and he could never leave the love of his life waiting. you took a slow tentative step forward, “i didn’t mean to interrupt, but i missed you. i can come back later when you’re done-”
“no, it’s fine,” his voice was quiet, but resolute.
you hesitated, nervous fingers fidgeting with the fabric of your shirt, as you chewed on your bottom lip and slowly approached him. when you stood right in front of him, he turned towards you in his chair, as he eased back just slightly. one hand reached for your waist, the other steady against your thigh, as he gently pulled you onto his lap.
jay’s mind was still befuddled at the sight of you now, his shirt draped loose on your smaller frame — how he loved seeing you this way; soft and needy.
but still, you didn’t speak. your heart was loud in your ears and you could feel the warmth of his hands on you, burning the barrier of your clothes — grounding, like he knew what you wanted even before you did. yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it out loud, no matter how much your body reacted to his touch. not because he made you feel ashamed, but because he always saw right through you. every time he needed you like this, you found yourself wanting to hide, even though you knew that in the end he’d find you, like he always did, ready to oblige to your every command.
jay waited, watching you, studying the way your lashes fluttered and your lips parted in hesitation. he could feel your body tense, the way your thighs pressed together at the slightest of movements from him beneath you, and the way your hands trembled lightly against his chest.
“what is it love?” his voice was low and careful, coaxing you. “what do you want hmm?”
the words hit you with a quiet force, blooming heat through your chest — because you didn’t know how to say ‘i miss you’ or ‘i need you’ without sounding like you were asking for too much. but your body and heart ached at just the thought of him — his touch, his warmth, his attention, all of it.
“i need you jay, please,” you whispered, eyes cast down, embarrassed by how much you needed him, even now.
he exhaled slowly, shaking his head as a soft smile crept up on his face. his hand slipped beneath your shirt, fingertips brushing over the small of your back — slow and deliberate.
“yeah?” he asked, his voice teasing, but his eyes, his beautiful sharp eyes filled with the soft and proud affection he always displayed for you. your breath caught, and your fingers gripped his shirts tighter, afraid to let go, but also flustered at the endless endearment he held for you. he always said things like that, like he knew you better than you did. and truth be told, he did — he knows how your body betrays you before you could gather the words to bring your thoughts alive.
jay leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your temple, his breath warm as he whispered against it. “you want me to take care of you doll?”
you nodded faintly, cheeks burning and breath shallow. his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, the heat in your gut pooling as you felt him grow hard beneath you. that gave you small surge of confidence, as you looked up at him, your forehead on his, noses brushing, “please jay, i need you to fuck me.”
he stilled for just a moment — not from surprise, but from the overwhelming tenderness in his chest at the sight of your blown out eyes seeking his acknowledgement. just those few words from you, were enough to undo him completely, the last thread of restraint in him snapping.
“fuck,” he breathed out, almost reverently, his hand curling around the back of your neck, and his lips crashing onto yours with a desire that made your whole body jolt. the kiss was deep and consuming, like he was pouring all his love for you through your mouth alone. his tongue slipped past your lips with practiced ease, swallowing every little sound you made as your fingers tangled in his hair, like you couldn’t let go.
you whined against him, your hips grinding down without thinking, desperate for any friction. jay groaned low in his throat, hands gripping your thighs tightly, guiding your movements over his lap, letting you feel just how hard he’s gotten for you.
when he finally pulled away from your lips, you gasped, eyes fluttering open only for him to tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.
“you’re so fucking perfect,” he murmered against your skin, lips trailing down your jawline, then lower to the hollow of your clavicle, slow and worshipful. his touch was everywhere — hot and overwhelming, tongue licking over the blooming red marks he left, like an apology to soothe the pain.
jay marked you, kissing, biting, sucking, leaving marks of his love and devotion apparent on your skin. his hands roamed under your shirt, palms sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. your breathing grew ragged, hands fisting in his hair, head thrown back to give him more access to yourself. you could feel your panties soaked through and clinging to your core, the wet stickiness of it making you uncomfortable. he groaned against your skin, hips jerking up against you, causing you to let out a moan — the heat between you now unbearable.
“you have no idea what you do to me doll,” he muttered low, one hand trailing down between your thighs, teasing. jay let out a low noise when he felt the wet patch on your panties, your shirt bunched up from all the desperate grinding and humping. “jay, please,” you whimpered, hips rocking into his hand, and he smirked against your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses over every mark he made, as his fingers pushed your soaked panties aside.
“let me take care of you baby,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “i’ll fuck you just how you deserve to be.”
you whimpered when his fingers found you — wet and swollen, as he dragged two fingers through your slick folds, groaning low against your skin. “so wet already,” he murmured, voice strained with need. “you need it that bad, doll?”
you nodded immediately, breath hitching, your hips still rolling against his hand, “please..”
he kissed you again — slower this time, your lips now more swollen and plump, before pulling back. his hand pulled away from your soaked center, and you whined at the loss of friction, as he brought his soaked digits up to his lips and licked them off, humming at the taste as his eyes never left yours. the sight before you turned you on to no extent, the wetness clinging to your folds increasing.
jay leaned back in his chair, just enough to spread his legs wide, his hand that rested on your waist, tightening their grip on you, still balancing you on him. “take this off,” he said tugging at your shirt gently, but his hands are already on it, pulling it over your head and helping you out of the material. with the shirt thrown off somewhere on the floor, you’re left in his lap, bare, flushed, and breathless. his gaze drags across your body, hands sliding up your body, leaving a trail of blaze behind that burned your skin in the best way possible, cupping your breasts in his palms.
“fuck..” his thumbs brushed over your nipples, firm and aching, making you gasp as he softly pinched it. and then, without a word, he reached down, unzipping his slacks with one hand, the sound deafening in the quiet room. he pulled himself out, and your breath caught at the sight of him, hard and leaking, thick and flushed red at the tip.
“look at what you do to me doll,” he muttered, one hand stroking himself slowly, as it stood proud against his lower abdomen, a bead of precum glistening at the head, and the other hand squeezing your thigh. “you see this? all for you, my love.”
you swallowed, heart pounding, and he lifted you with ease, guiding you to hover over him. one hand steady on your waist, the other gripping himself, he rubbed the tip against your soaked entrance, groaning ās your slick coated him.
“ride me doll,” he said, voice low and commanding. “i want to feel you.”
you braced both your clammy hands on his shoulders, as you slowly sank down, inch by inch, the stretch stealing your breath. he filled you so deep, so full, you could barely breathe — his head falling back with a groan, fingers digging into your hips. you could feel his tip nudge our cervix as your walls clamped down on him.
“just like that,” he hissed, thrusting up slightly, making you cry out.
his hands slithered up your waist to your chest, cupping your tits, thumbs rolling over your nipples as you began to move — slow, grinding circles, taking him deeper each time as his tip kissed that one spot in you over and over. you moaned, your thighs shaking with every movement.
“you’re so perfect, my beautiful girl,” he moaned out, pulling you down onto him, his hands squeezing your tits roughly. “fuck, you feel so good. so tight. s’all mine.”
you gasped, clinging to him, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. your body trembled at the overwhelming fullness, eyes fluttering from the way from the way he filled every inch of you like he was made for it, like you were meant to be wrapped around him like this.
your thighs trembled as you tried to keep moving, hips rocking in slow, shaky circles, your hands now resting on his chest for balance. jay groaned beneath you, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every little expression you made — the way your lips parted, the little furrow in your brows, your breath hitching every time you lifted yourself, feeling him drag along your walls as you sank down on him fully.
“that’s it, baby,” he murmured, voice soft as his hands slid up your sides again, soothing and worshipping. “you’re doing so good for me. look at you.” he sat up slightly, one hand cupping the back of your head, the other wrapping around your waist, guiding your rhythm.
“so pretty like this,” he breathed, lips brushing over your jaw, your cheek, your temple. “my beautiful girl.”
his mouth wandered down your jaw, over your chest, lips closing around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth with a deep moan. his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, teeth grazing gently, before he sucked harder, making you cry out as your movements on him faltered and you arched further into him.
your hands tangled in his hair, clinging to him, your body shuddering with each slow, deep thrust as he helped you ride him — letting you set the pace, but never letting go of his control. his other hand kneaded your other breast, fingers tweaking the hardened little bud, his mouth still latched on to the other.
you were panting now, overwhelmed, trembling in his lap, as he worshipped every part of you, showering them with his kisses, his touch, and his love, like he couldn’t get enough of giving you everything you wanted.
“jay, ‘s too much love..” you whimpered, voice barely coherent, hips stuttering.
“no, it’s not,” he whispered against your skin, voice soft and comforting, and muffled against your nipple. “you can take it, baby. you need this don’t you?”
you nodded desperately, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, not from pain, but from how good it felt — from how much you needed this, just like he did.
“yeah, that’s it,” he cooed, releasing your nipple with a wet ‘pop’ sound, “let me take care of you, love. his hands moved to your hips again, holding you steady, guiding you up and down on him, helping you ride him just right. his cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you, the friction overwhelming.
“you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “i could stay like this forever. just you on top of me, my pretty girl, taking all of me so well.”
your body jolted with every deep thrust, your hands gripping him like a lifeline as whimpers spilled uncontrollably from your lips.
“i’m close,” you gasped, voice cracking, body winding tighter with every drag of his cock inside you. “jay, i- i can’t-”
“yes, you can,” he whispered softly, one hand sliding between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow, tight circles, perfectly in rhythm with your movements. “come on, baby. come for me, let go.”
and with a cry, you shattered — body tensing, back arching, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as your release hits, wave after wave, crashing through you, overwhelming, blinding.
jay groaned low, deep, as he felt you clench around him — hot and pulsing, and he lost it, thrusting up hard one last time, burying himself deep inside you as he came, holding you tight against him, every muscle tensed.
his voice broke into a soft, breathless moan, your name falling from his lips as he emptied his seed inside you, warmth flooding between your thighs as he held you still, grounding you both. you slumped against him, your head resting on his shoulder, as his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you close, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back.
“you okay?” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. you nodded, breath still shaky, your fingers curling in his hair, “yeah, ‘m okay. that was..”
“incredible,” he finished for you, smiling softly against your skin. “you’re always perfect for me.”
you stayed like that for a while, the room smelling of sex and sweat. his cock was still nestled inside you, softening slowly, but neither of you wanting to move. when your body finally started to relax, the after glow settling in, jay’s fingers tilted your chin upwards, his eyes glinting with something playful beneath the tenderness.
his voice was soft, but teasing, “you know, i think i have some stress to relieve.”
you blinked, dazed. “what?”
he glanced towards the desk, then back at you with a slow, wicked smile, “think i need a little help unwinding.”
you flushed instantly, mind catching up on the insinuation — but his arms were already tightening around you, lifting you up with ease, his length still inside you.
and with that, he set you down on the cool wood, spreading your legs slowly, purposefully, as he knelt before you for more.