⟡ the premise ✮⋆˙ waking up to an empty bed at 2 AM, you find your perfectionist husband pushing himself to the point of exhaustion in his study. what starts as a gentle attempt to pull him away from his monitors quickly melts into a night of desperate affection, soft intimacy, and heartwarming pillow talk.
⟡ contains: married au, established relationship, overworked/stressed jay, soft skinship, heavy tension, intimate make-out, domestic fluff, comfort, sweet pillow talk
wc 𖹭 1.3k . . . oneshot
The clock read 2:00 AM. You shifted in your sleep, but something felt distinctly empty. The heavy, familiar weight of the arm that usually wrapped around you was gone. The space beside you was cold. Blinking your eyes open, you found the bed empty—no Jay.
Pushing the covers aside, you slipped out of bed, grabbing your silk robe before stepping out into the quiet hallway.
The door to his study was slightly ajar, spilling a faint, blue glow onto the floor. You stepped closer, peering inside. Jay was hunched in front of his monitors. His black dress shirt was a mess, the top three buttons undone in a desperate bid for comfort. His jaw was clenched tight, fighting off exhaustion, and behind the thick frames of his reading glasses, his eyes were dangerously bloodshot. A thin sheen of sweat glistened at his temples and down the long column of his neck—the air conditioning seemingly failing to combat the stifling heat of his overworking mind.
You stepped into the room without a sound. He was so intensely focused that he didn't even notice your presence until you gently tapped the edge of his mahogany desk.
He snapped his head up, blinking through the haze of fatigue. "Hm? Did I wake you?"
You didn't answer. Instead, you reached out. Your fingers tenderly brushed back the dark strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes, before your thumb trailed down to wipe the dampness from his temple and the curve of his neck. His skin was running hot, the muscles beneath your fingertips pulled taut with stress.
"That's enough, Jay," you murmured, your voice a soft, grounding whisper in the quiet room. "Your eyes are begging for a break."
At your touch, whatever remaining focus he had shattered completely. Jay let out a long, heavy exhale, the sound tearing from deep within his chest. He immediately leaned forward, wrapping both of his strong arms tightly around your waist. He buried his face into the soft fabric of your robe against your stomach, inhaling deeply. He breathed you in—a warm, intoxicating blend of sweet vanilla and the faint, comforting scent of chamomile—drawing it into his lungs like it was the only oxygen left in the room.
"I don't know... I just wanted to get it all done," he mumbled, his voice muffled and raw against your skin.
Running your fingers soothingly through the hair at the nape of his neck, you held him close. "The world isn't going to end if you step away for a few hours, honey," you whispered gently, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "You've worked hard enough. Let it go for tonight. Right now, I just need my husband back in bed."
Slowly, Jay lifted his head. The hands resting on your waist tightened their grip, effortlessly pulling you down until you were straddling his lap sideways. All the distance between you vanished in an instant. He reached up, his large, warm hands gently cupping your face. His thumbs began a slow, mesmerizing sweep across your cheekbones. The sheer exhaustion in his eyes melted away, replaced entirely by something unbearably deep—a raw, aching devotion.
"I'm sorry," he breathed, his voice a gravelly rasp. His gaze dropped to your lips for an agonizing second before flicking back up to your eyes. "Sorry for waking you, and making you come find me."
You shook your head slightly, winding your arms around his neck to draw him even closer. "I can't sleep when you're not there anyway."
Those words were all it took. The switch flipped. Jay stared at you with a longing so intense it felt palpable, the tension thick and heavy in the air between you. "I love you," he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin. "So much it aches."
He didn't waste another second before his lips captured yours. The kiss wasn't rushed, but it was incredibly demanding—a desperate, consuming claim. It was as if he was pouring every ounce of his exhaustion into you, melting it all down and trading it for the pure, intoxicating comfort of your presence.
His lips left yours with a soft, reluctant parting, only to trail a blazing path across your jawline. He pressed a tender, lingering kiss to your cheek before descending to the sensitive skin of your neck. With a gentle brush of his fingers, he swept the cascade of your hair over your shoulder, entirely baring the curve of your neck to him. He pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along your pulse point, tracing the delicate expanse inch by inch, worshiping the skin as if it were a canvas made solely for his lips.
His large hand slid up and down your spine in slow, deliberate strokes. It was meant to be a grounding, comforting motion, yet the friction sent a rush of heat straight to your core. The air in the quiet study suddenly felt dangerously thick, the temperature rising with every shared breath.
"Jay..." you breathed out, your voice barely a whisper.
He froze. His lips hovered just a fraction of an inch from your skin, his hot breath fanning over your neck, before he slowly pulled back. His dark, hooded eyes met yours. "Hm?" he hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest.
Once again, your fingers reached up to trace his temple. Your hand trailed down his cheek, your thumb coming to rest gently against his lower lip—the very lips that had just sent a million butterflies fluttering through your stomach. You stared at his mouth for a heartbeat, feeling the soft hitch of his breath against your thumb, before lifting your gaze back to his burning eyes.
"Did you not miss me?"
A low chuckle vibrated deep in Jay's chest before his dark eyes locked onto yours once again. "Do you really want to know?"
You responded with a slow, soft nod.
Jay's gaze flicked briefly to the surface of his desk. Without a second thought, he swept a stack of files and documents to the edge with one swift motion. The very next second, his movements were incredibly fluid and smooth, yet still heavily laced with a profound gentleness. His large hands gripped your waist, lifting you effortlessly to set you down on the edge of his desk.
"I think that's a ridiculous question when you already know the answer perfectly well, Mrs. Park," he whispered hoarsely. Jay stepped forward, positioning himself right between your parted thighs, entirely erasing whatever distance was left between you before he leaned down and captured your lips once more.
This kiss was no longer as soft as before. It was far more intense, deeply demanding, as if he wanted to devour every last ounce of your sanity. In the midst of that intoxicating, breathless kiss, Jay's fingers trailed along your shoulders, slowly slipping the silk robe off your skin and letting it pool around your elbows. The action fully exposed your frame, clad now only in a delicate satin nightgown.
But his movements didn't stop there. Instead of using his palms, Jay used the back of his hand to touch you. His knuckles traced the bare skin of your shoulder, gliding agonizingly slow past your collarbone, trailing down your torso, until they came to rest at the dip of your waist with a sweep that was entirely too gentle. The unexpected touch of the back of his hand—slightly cool and textured by the faint calluses on his fingers—sent a jolt of electricity straight through your nerves. It was a tantalizing sensation that seemed to set your skin on fire, making your breath hitch and leaving your entire body covered in goosebumps right under his complete control.
His breath hitched, and he slowly pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. He was panting softly, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm with yours. The teasing touch of his knuckles faded as he finally turned his hands over, letting his large, warm palms rest fully and securely against your waist.
Instead of pulling you roughly, he stepped even closer, wrapping his arms around your lower back and burying his face gently in the crook of your neck. He let out a long, contented sigh, the sound melting into your skin. It was as if all the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders, and he had finally found his home.
"You have no idea how beautiful you are," he murmured against your skin, his voice incredibly soft, stripped of any stress or fatigue. He pressed a tender, lingering kiss just below your ear, sending a warm shiver down your spine.
One of his hands slowly slid up your back, his fingers tangling carefully in your hair to support the back of your head. He tilted your face up, his dark eyes looking at you not with burning aggression, but with an overwhelming, tender devotion that made your heart swell. Very carefully, he used his other hand to slip the fallen silk robe entirely off your arms, letting it pool around your waist, before his thumb gently caressed the delicate strap of your satin nightgown.
"I am so incredibly lucky to have you," he whispered, his thumb sweeping across your flushed cheek with so much care, as if you were the most precious thing in his life.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet, agonizingly slow kiss that made you melt completely into his embrace. When he pulled back just a fraction of an inch, a soft, breathtakingly loving smile formed on his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his voice dropping to a warm, breathy whisper.
"Forget the work, forget the deadlines," he murmured softly, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "Let me take care of you. Because I promise you, my love... I am going to make sure you are in heaven tonight."
The moonlight spilled through the gap in the curtains, casting a soft, silvery glow across the tangled sheets of your bed. The quiet hum of the early morning had returned, replacing the heavy, intoxicating tension from hours ago with a deep, comfortable serenity.
You lay resting against his bare chest, your ear pressed directly over his heart, listening to its steady, calming rhythm. Jay’s arms were wrapped securely around you, holding you close as if he was afraid you might slip away into the night. His skin was incredibly warm, his breathing slow and even.
One of his hands rested on your bare shoulder, his fingers lazily tracing invisible, soothing patterns across your skin, while his chin rested gently on the top of your head.
"Are you still awake?" he mumbled, his voice a thick, sleepy rumble that vibrated against your cheek.
You hummed softly, shifting closer and tilting your head up just enough to look at his face. "Mhm. Just... comfortable."
A small, tired, but incredibly fond smile graced his lips. He shifted slightly, pulling the heavy duvet up to cover your shoulders to make sure you were warm. He tilted his head down, pressing a long, tender kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment.
"Thank you," he whispered into your hair, his voice barely above a breath in the quiet room.
"For what?" you asked, your fingertip lightly tracing the outline of his collarbone.
"For coming to get me tonight. For pulling me away from that desk." He caught your wandering hand, bringing your fingers to his lips to press a soft, lingering kiss against your knuckles. His dark eyes, now heavy with sleep but full of absolute adoration, met yours. "Sometimes I get so caught up in trying to be perfect, trying to build the best life for us... I forget that my perfect life is already right here, in my arms."
Your heart fluttered wildly at his words, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. You snuggled even closer, throwing one leg over his to tangle your limbs completely. "The work will always be there tomorrow, Jay. But you need to rest."
"I know," he sighed softly, a contented sound leaving his lips as his eyes fluttered shut. He rubbed his cheek affectionately against your hair. "I know. And I promise, when we wake up... no work. Just you and me. I'll make us breakfast. Pancakes?"
"Pancakes sound perfect," you smiled against his skin, your own eyelids growing heavy under his comforting touch.
"Good," he murmured, his voice fading softly into the edge of sleep. His grip around your waist tightened just a fraction—a subconscious, possessive need to keep you anchored to him. "I love you so much, sweet dreams."
synopsis: jay had taken you for granted—he knew you would always be there to clean up his mess and help him out with every aspect of his life. but when you resign, only then does he understand how much of a mess he is without you. and now he will go to any and all lengths to get you back.
warnings: kissing, some angst, not proofread
note: this ceo!jay fic was requested by @evandsolo! inspired by what’s wrong with secretary kim and entirely fueled by the belief that a man who yearns is a man who earns<3 enjoyy!
word count: 4.4k
If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3
it was supposed to be a perfectly ordinary morning. you’d walked into jay’s office a thousand times before, but this time was different. this time, the envelope in your hands carried the weight of five years of your life, pressed into a single sheet of paper.
you placed it on his desk with deliberate precision, right in the centre of his polished mahogany workspace, where he couldn’t miss it. where he’d have to acknowledge it.
he didn’t look up.
of course he didn’t.
his fingers were already flying across his keyboard, his attention locked onto some deal worth more than your annual salary. he barely registered your presence, just flicked his fingers in a vague gesture without lifting his eyes.
“leave it there,” he muttered, already reaching for his coffee.
you almost laughed.
how fitting. how painfully, perfectly fitting. you were leaving—actually leaving—and he still couldn’t spare you a glance.
but then he opened it.
you watched his face, the way his brows pulled together just slightly, the way his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. his fingers tightened around the paper, crinkling the edges. for a long moment, he just stared at it, like he was waiting for the letters to rearrange themselves into something that made sense.
when he finally looked up at you, his expression was something you’d never seen before—something raw and unguarded, like you’d just handed him a grenade with the pin already pulled.
“this is a joke,” he said, voice flat.
you didn’t flinch at that. you’d rehearsed this moment in your head a hundred times. “no,” you said, calm as ever. “i’m serious.”
jay pushed back from his desk so fast his chair rolled back and slammed into the wall with a sharp thud. “you can’t just—no. this is… no.”
you blinked at him. “i can. and i am.”
“why?” he demanded, like the concept of you leaving was incomprehensible, like you’d just announced you were quitting oxygen.
five years.
five years of memorising his schedule better than your own. five years of knowing he took his coffee with exactly one and a half sugars, of remembering his dry cleaning when he forgot, of smoothing over his temper with clients who didn’t deserve it. five years of your life shrinking to fit the margins of his world, until you weren’t sure where he ended and you began.
and what had you gotten in return?
a paycheck, sure. a fancy title that meant nothing when he still called you at midnight to ask where he’d left his charger. not a single genuine thank you, not once.
you could’ve told him the truth—that you were tired of being an extension of his life instead of living your own. that you’d spent the last six months quietly training your replacement while he barely noticed the shift. that you’d sent him resignation emails he’d ignored, brushed off, left unanswered because he couldn’t fathom a world where you weren’t at his beck and call.
but the truth felt too heavy, too raw. so you smiled, sweet and practised, the way you always did when you were biting back words you knew he wouldn’t hear anyway.
“i’ve done everything i can here. it’s time to move on.”
jay scoffed, loud and disbelieving. “move on? from me?”
the second the words left his mouth, he froze. realisation flickered across his face, followed by something almost like panic.
you couldn’t help it as you rolled your eyes at him. “did you not read all the resignation emails i sent you?.”
his jaw clenched. for a moment, he just stared at you, his mind clearly racing, scrambling for footing in a conversation he hadn’t seen coming. then he was pacing, his fingers dragging through his hair, messing up the perfectly styled strands in a way that would’ve bothered him any other day.
“this is—no. i would’ve remembered if you’d tried to quit before.”
“you didn’t,” you said simply. “i emailed you six times over the past two months.”
“those were—” he cut himself off, and you saw the exact moment it hit him. those emails he’d skimmed, the ones he’d marked as ‘handle later’ and then promptly forgotten about. the resignation notices he’d dismissed because, in his mind, you weren’t actually leaving. you couldn’t be.
his expression shifted, guilt flashing behind his eyes before he schooled it back into something more controlled.
“this was your last reminder,” you said, your voice softer than you’d intended. “that’s why it’s physical. and according to company policy, i’ve already served my notice period.”
his throat worked as he swallowed. you could practically see the gears turning in his head—the meetings only you knew how to handle, the clients who only trusted you, the way his entire routine would crumble without you there to prop it up.
then, like a switch had flipped, his desperation sharpened into something more strategic.
“i’ll allow a raise,” he said, like he was offering you a lifeline.
you shook your head.
“a bonus, then. a significant one.”
“no.”
“a company car.”
“not interested.” you turned toward the door, your hand already reaching for the handle.
his voice cracked behind you, just slightly, like he was fighting to keep it steady. “what if i let you rename the break room after yourself?!”
you didn’t stop. didn’t look back. but you smiled, just a little, as the door clicked shut behind you.
jay pretended he was fine.
the next morning, he strode into the office like nothing had changed, shoulders squared, chin high, the perfect image of unshakable composure. he even gave a company-wide speech about "embracing new changes" with a smile so forced it looked like his face might crack.
the team clapped politely, but you would’ve known better. you would’ve seen the way his fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against his thigh, the way his voice hitched just slightly on the word "transition."
but you weren’t there.
day two was worse.
he showed up in mismatched socks and a tie that looked like it had been knotted during an earthquake. his hair was slightly tousled, not in the artfully messy way he usually cultivated, but like he’d forgotten to brush it entirely. the office buzzed with whispers, but no one dared say anything to his face.
your replacement—a perfectly competent woman named elise—handed him his schedule with a tentative smile. he glanced at it, then at her, and sighed.
"thanks, not-y/n."
elise blinked. "…my name is elise."
"right," he said, already walking away.
she cried in the bathroom twice that day. you would’ve felt bad if you hadn’t spent five years biting your tongue in those same stalls.
day three was when things truly spiralled.
he scheduled a board meeting for 3 a.m. because he’d forgotten am and pm existed. when his assistant (not you, never you) timidly pointed it out, he stared at his calendar like it had personally betrayed him.
"who designed this system?" he muttered. "it’s ridiculous."
you would’ve laughed. you would’ve reminded him that he’d approved the system himself last year. elise just nodded nervously and rescheduled the meeting, her fingers shaking slightly over the keyboard.
jay missed your laugh. he missed the way you’d roll your eyes at his terrible jokes, the way you’d hum under your breath when you were typing too fast to care who heard you. elise didn’t laugh. she didn’t hum. she just nodded and said "yes, mr. park" at everuything like she was reading from a script.
it was unbearable.
by day four, he was a ghost of himself.
he spent an hour staring at his email drafts folder, which now contained 36 unsent messages to you. some were professional, clipped reminders about pending files. others were… not.
draft 12: "what if i said please?"
draft 23: "are you allergic to yachts?"
draft 36: "tell me how to replace you and i’ll do it. just tell me."
he deleted that last one immediately. then he reopened it from the trash. then he deleted it again.
at lunch, he went to your favourite coffee shop. he’d never gone without you before—had never even noticed the name of the place until he’d seen it on your credit card receipts. he stared at the menu like it was written in another language, then tried to order your usual.
"a vanilla latte with an extra shot, light foam, and—" he hesitated. "whatever sweetener she gets. the one that’s not too sweet."
the barista gave him a blank look. "…you mean sugar?"
jay’s eye twitched. "just—make it like you would for y/n. she used to come here every day."
"we get hundreds of customers, sir."
in the end, he walked out with a triple-shot matcha latte with oat milk and three pumps of caramel. it was disgusting. he drank it anyway, wincing with every sip.
"she would’ve ordered it right," he muttered to no one.
that night, at 1:13 a.m, his pride finally lost the battle against his desperation.
JAY (1:13 AM): "how do i order printer ink?"
three minutes passed. yet there was no response from you.
JAY (1:14 AM): "not for now. just in general. i miss you."
he stared at the screen, his stomach twisting. too much. that was too much.
JAY (1:16 AM): "ignore that last one. also the ink thing."
his phone stayed silent. he told himself he didn’t care.
(oh but he did. he cared too much.)
the next day after pestering your ex-subordinates for your new phone number, jay convinced you to meet for coffee under the flimsiest of pretenses, just to catch up, as if the two of you were old college friends and not former coworkers who had spent five years locked in a dance of unspoken tension and quiet resentment.
you almost said no. you should have said no. but there was something in his voice when he called, a crack in his usual polished demeanuor that made you pause just long enough for him to pounce.
"one hour," he’d bargained, already sensing your hesitation. "just one hour, and if you still hate me after, i’ll never bother you again." you hadn’t corrected his use of the word hate.
so now here you were, sitting in the corner booth of that little café three blocks from your new office, watching as jay walked in looking like he’d stepped out of a gq spread that had been styled specifically to ruin your resolve. his hair was perfectly tousled, his crisp white shirt rolled up to the elbows just enough to show off the faint tan lines from his stupidly expensive watch.
and the tie. god, the tie. that navy blue silk one with the subtle geometric pattern you’d complimented exactly once, nearly a year ago, when he’d worn it to close the wilson account. you hadn’t even been looking at him when you said it, too busy typing up meeting minutes, but you remembered how his fingers had frozen mid-air, how his voice had hitched just slightly before continuing his sentence.
and now here it was, pressed within an inch of its life, the dim café lighting catching the threads like he’d spent hours making sure it would look perfect under this exact wattage.
"hi," he said, hovering awkwardly by the table. for a man who commanded boardrooms without breaking a sweat, he suddenly looked like a teenager on his first date. "you look... you look good."
"you sound surprised," you said, just to watch his ears turn pink.
"no! i mean—" he exhaled sharply through his nose, the way he always did when resetting his thoughts. "can i sit?"
you nodded, watching as he practically collapsed into the chair across from you. his fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the tabletop, that telltale sign you'd learnt to read years ago—jongseong park was nervous.
"i've been thinking," he started, then immediately winced at his own words.
"well that's dangerous," you deadpanned, stirring your latte just to have something to do with your hands. the familiar banter slipped out before you could stop it, muscle memory from five years of this dance.
he huffed a laugh, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "yeah, yeah." his thumb rubbed along the rim of his coffee cup, avoiding your gaze. "you were the best thing about that office." his voice got softer then, like the words were being dragged out of him: "about my life, actually."
the admission hung between you, fragile as soap bubbles. you watched his throat work as he swallowed, his fingers now gripping the cup like a lifeline. "you organised everything. my schedule. my sanity. my—"
"jay," you cut in, raising an eyebrow. "if you say heart, i'm leaving."
he made a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan, dragging a hand down his face.
"fine. but just know i thought it." when he looked up again, his eyes were brighter than you'd ever seen them. "look, i—" he cut himself off, clearly abandoning whatever speech he'd rehearsed. instead, he reached for his wallet with slightly shaking hands.
what emerged was absurd. a tiny, carefully folded square of paper—the doodle of a cat you'd drawn during that endless quarterly meeting last year. and it was laminated.
"you laminated it?" the words burst out of you before you could stop them.
"it's important," he said defensively, his ears now fully pink. "do you know how many people have drawn me cats? one. you. that's statistically significant."
a laugh escaped you, sudden and bright, the sound startling both of you. jay's entire face transformed, his eyes lighting up like you'd handed him the keys to the city. in that moment, he looked younger, softer—the man behind the ceo mask you'd only glimpsed in rare, unguarded moments.
"jay..." you started, but he was already leaning forward, his elbows knocking into the table with enough force to make the silverware rattle. his gaze burned with an intensity that made your breath catch, all pretense stripped away.
"you left because i didn't say it," he said, voice rough. "so i'm saying it now. i want you back. not as my secretary. just... back."
the air between you thickened, heavy with five years of unsaid things. you studied his face—the faint crease between his brows that appeared when he was trying too hard, the way his lips pressed together like he was physically holding back a flood of words. part of you wanted to reach across the table and smooth that crease away. the other part wanted to bolt for the door.
"i'll have to see," you said finally, watching as his entire body tensed like a coiled spring.
inside, jay was doing backflips. progress. it was progress! he nodded, trying and failing to suppress the hope blooming across his face.
"okay. that's... okay." he cleared his throat, fingers fidgeting with the edge of his placemat. "can i at least get your new number? since you changed yours. which was rude, by the way."
"you had hr call me twelve times about the printer."
"that was an emergency!"
"it was not."
he opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. instead, he slid his phone across the table with exaggerated care, like he was handling a priceless artifact.
"please," he added, softer.
you took it, typing in your number with deliberate slowness just to watch him fidget. when you handed it back, his fingers brushed yours, lingering just a second too long. the contact sent a spark up your arm, familiar and terrifying all at once.
jay was equal parts horrified and reluctantly satisfied by the new development in him. he was slowly starting to turn into the cliche rom-com characters he had always made fun of.
he sent you roses first—vulgar, overpriced long-stemmed monsters that barely fit through your apartment door.
the deliveryman had looked at you with pity as you struggled to push in the absurd arrangement through your door. "if you think these are cliché," the note read in jay's messy scrawl, "i'll send a tiger next time."
you'd snorted but still spent twenty minutes rearranging your bathroom to accommodate them, their heavy perfume making your apartment smell like heavenly.
the next day he sent you a fruit basket which was an artisanal monstrosity with fruits you didn't even recognise, arranged like some renaissance still life.
"i'm bananas for you," declared the gold-foiled card, complete with a hand-drawn banana that looked suspiciously like it was flipping you off. you ate the chocolate covered strawberries first, trying not to wonder how much this nonsense was costing him.
by the third day you were starting to suspect jay had lost his mind entirely. a cat shaped floral arrangement arrived at your new office with its ridiculous "affecting company profits" sign, drawing your co-workers like moths to a flame.
"is that... is that a cat made of carnations holding a sign?" your deskmate maria asked, poking at the display.
"it's a cry for help," you muttered, but still took three separate pictures when no one was looking.
the gifts kept escalating in both extravagance and specificity. a luxury snack box containing that exact brand of german gummy bears you liked, the particular sea salt caramel chocolates you'd mentioned once in passing, even those disgusting licorice candies you pretended to hate but secretly enjoyed. this time the note attached simply said "bribery attempt #4" in jay's familiar handwriting, the same slant you'd seen on countless memos over the years.
then came the video that nearly broke you.
it arrived late on a tuesday night, a vertical clip that immediately revealed jay's complete lack of filming skills. the camera showed half his face and most of his ceiling as he stood in what was clearly his kitchen, wearing an apron that said "ceo of cooking" in what looked like sharpie. behind him, something suspiciously smoky wafted from a pan.
"okay so," his voice came through slightly muffled, "i got the recipe from that italian place you like. the chef owed me a favour after the... never mind that part."
the camera wobbled violently as something in the pan flared up. "shit. was it two tablespoons of oil or—" the video cut off abruptly with a yelp. the caption simply read: "i'm in love and hungry. help."
you watched it four times. by the third viewing, you were pressing your face into a pillow to muffle your laughter. this was the man who'd once reduced a room full of executives to tears during a merger negotiation? who'd built an empire before thirty? he couldn't even film a cooking video without nearly burning down his kitchen.
the gifts kept coming with alarming regularity. day six brought a playlist titled "songs that remind me of you (don't laugh)" featuring everything from frank sinatra to that obscure folk song you'd hummed once in the elevator. day seven saw the arrival of a first edition copy of your favourite novel, the one you'd mentioned reading in college. day eight... you lost track somewhere between the custom star map showing the night sky from your birthday and the absurdly soft cashmere sweater in exactly your shade of blue.
your apartment was beginning to resemble a bizarre museum of jay's increasingly unhinged courtship attempts. the roses still dominated your bathroom (now joined by their own humidifier), the fruit basket had spawned several tupperwares of cut fruit in your fridge, and the cat bouquet was slowly shedding petals onto your coffee table.
your neighbours had taken to giving you knowing looks in the hallway, once whispering "that boy's either crazy about you or needs psychiatric help" as you struggled with another delivery.
the final straw came two weeks in, when you opened your door to find jay himself standing there holding the saddest bouquet of wildflowers you'd ever seen—a lopsided collection of daisies, dandelions, and what might have been actual weeds, all tied together with what looked suspiciously like one of his own designer shoelaces. his normally impeccable hair was windswept, his dress shirt wrinkled, and there were suspicious green stains on his knees.
"i picked them myself," he announced, thrusting them toward you with the solemnity of a knight presenting a sacred relic. up close, you could see tiny scratches on his hands and a leaf stubbornly clinging to his collar. "they're all crooked but they reminded me of you."
you raised an eyebrow, accepting the sad little bundle. "crooked?"
he panicked immediately, hands flying up in surrender. "not you! the... the way they grow however they want. the unpredictability. the..." he floundered before landing on, "sexy chaos?"
"jay," you sighed, shaking your head as you turned to find something to put the flowers in. "stop digging."
"too late," he said with absolutely no shame, following you inside like a golden retriever who'd finally been let in from the rain. "i live in the hole now. it has your name on the mailbox and everything."
as you filled a mason jar with water for the pathetic little bouquet, you tried not to notice how his eyes wandered around your apartment —taking in the framed photos, the books on your shelves, the little trinket dish he'd given you three birthdays ago that you still used every day. when you turned back, he was standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room, looking more vulnerable than you'd ever seen him in five years of working together.
"so," you said, crossing your arms. "are you going to explain all of this?"
jay opened his mouth, closed it, then ran a hand through his already-messy hair—a gesture so familiar it made your chest ache.
"i realised something," he said finally, meeting your eyes with startling sincerity. "all those times i ignored your resignation emails? it wasn't because i didn't take you seriously."
he took a step closer, close enough that you could see the speck of light brown in his eyes. "it was because i couldn't imagine walking into that office without you there."
the raw honesty in his voice caught you off guard. you'd seen jay in every possible professional context—commanding boardrooms, charming clients, ruthlessly negotiating deals—but never like this. never this open, this vulnerable.
"you once told me i never said thank you," he continued, his voice softer now. "so. thank you. for putting up with me for five years. for remembering my dry cleaning when i forgot. for knowing how i take my coffee better than i do." his lips quirked in a half-smile. "for not calling the cops about the cooking video."
you swallowed around the sudden lump in your throat. "that was a close call."
"i know." he took another step forward, close enough that you could smell his cologne —that familiar citrus-and-sandalwood scent that had haunted your dreams more than you'd care to admit. "i want to ask you for a chance. to prove i can do better."
you observed him —the hopeful curve of his mouth, the nervous flutter of his pulse at his throat—and realised with startling clarity that despite everything, you wanted to give him that chance.
"so what's the plan next time then?" you teased, leaning against your kitchen counter. "another cat shaped flower arrangement? a billboard with my face on it? maybe skywriting?"
jay straightened his tie like that would save him, his fingers fumbling slightly with the silk. you noticed how his hands shook just the tiniest bit, how his breath came a fraction too fast.
"no," he said, with a determination that made your pulse stutter. his gaze locked onto yours, steady in a way that felt new, like he'd finally stopped pretending. "i don't want you to come back to the company." another step. "i want you to stay with me."
you arched a brow, trying to ignore how your heart was suddenly pounding. "wow. almost smooth."
his mouth curved into that familiar half grin, equal parts charming and infuriating. "then let me try something smoother."
before you could fire back a retort, his hand was on your waist—warm and deliberate through the thin fabric of your shirt—while his other hand cupped your jaw like he'd been waiting forever to do it right. the kiss was calculated and confident, screaming “i've imagined this a hundred times and none of those versions were good enough.”
his lips moved against yours with a certainty that stole your breath, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone like he was memorising the feel of your skin. when his breath caught—just once, subtle but telling—something warm and liquid pooled in your stomach. you leaned in harder, your hands finding purchase in the front of his shirt, the crisp cotton wrinkling under your fingers.
you broke away first, just to see him—his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly parted, his usually perfect hair even more dishevelled than before. he looked dazed but still managed that infuriatingly smug expression that had driven you crazy for years.
"so," he said, voice low and rough around the edges, "was that smooth enough?"
you tried to roll your eyes, to play it cool like your entire body wasn't buzzing with contentment, but he was already kissing you again before you could form a coherent thought. this time you were the one gripping his shirt like you might not let him leave, the one sighing into his mouth when his fingers tangled in your hair.
his body pressed against yours was solid and warm, familiar in a way that surprised you. you'd stood close to him countless times in elevators and crowded meetings, but this was different. this was jay without the professional mask, without the carefully constructed distance. this was just him—the scent of his cologne, the quiet noise he made when you bit his lower lip.
when you finally pulled back for air, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing as uneven as yours. "i should've done that years ago," he murmured, his thumb tracing idle circles on your hip.
"you should've done a lot of things years ago," you countered, but there was no bite to it, just a softness that surprised you both.
he smiled a real, unguarded smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, and you realised with sudden clarity that you were in trouble. because this wasn't the park jongseong who sent ridiculous gifts or made terrible powerpoint jokes. this was the man underneath all that, the one who picked sad little wildflowers and remembered how you took your coffee and looked at you like you'd hung the moon.
and you were pretty sure you were falling for him all over again.
𐔌 ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ 𐦯 ┆ jay knew he won the day you said yes, and watching your friends’ envy only made him feel luckier.
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ park jongseong x f!reader .ᐟ ┆w. 4,229┆romance. established relationship. domestic (?)
ᴍɪᴠ ɞ┆i cant stop watching an edit of jay to this song. [katsgumi on tiktok lol] this isn’t proof read so if there is any errors im sorry. i feel tha i repeated many words. i haven’t posted in a while.. i have so many drafts that are unfinished, i started this in october…
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
jay stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a towel slung low around his waist as he brushed out his hair. you stood beside him, focused on your makeup. you let out a frustrated huff. “babe, did you really have to shower with steaming hot water? you fogged up the whole mirror.”
“come on, baby, it’s not that bad,” he said easily. “the door and window are open—it’ll air out in a second. don’t worry.” he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the crown of your head. you sighed at the affection, a small smile tugging at your lips, before grabbing your phone to check the time. your eyes widened.
“jay! it’s almost six-twenty. we’re supposed to be there at seven, and you’re not even changed yet. it takes forever to get there if we’re walking!” you started shooing him out of the bathroom, pushing him toward the door.
“what do you mean?” he laughed. “i only take a couple minutes. blink once and i’m basically done.” you turned to look at him, dead serious. he smiled awkwardly. “not the time?” he asked.
panic set in all at once. you weren’t even done with your makeup, and your hair still needed work. you started rambling, hands moving too fast, thoughts tripping over each other as jay watched.
“baby, it’s okay,” he said gently, stepping closer. “i’m sure your friends won’t mind if you’re a little late. they want to see you—they won’t care about waiting a few extra minutes. you’ll be fine.”
“but if i finish late, then we’ll be even later because we still have to walk and—”
“then i’ll drive us,” he cut in smoothly. “we’ll get there faster, and they won’t be waiting as long.” you paused, lips parting before you spoke again. “but i wanted us to walk so you could get the full experience and actually have fun and—”
he gently cupped your face, thumbs warm against your cheeks. “baby,” he said softly, “as long as you’re there with me, i’ll have fun. i don’t care if we walk, drive, or even run. just being with you is enough for me.”
your eyes searched his face, uncertainty still lingering. “but what are they going to think if we’re late?”
he smiled, calm and sure. “it doesn’t matter what they think. what matters is that you’re doing what you said you would—meeting them there tonight. and if they’re not content with your presence alone, then they don’t deserve it.”
“okay?” he asked, searching your eyes for any lingering doubt.
“okay.” you replied, your mind easing just a little.
“okay.” he echoed with a smile, leaning down to press a soft peck to your lips.
you giggled at the affection, his smile curving against yours before you gently pushed him back. “alright, alright—now go change.”
you both parted ways—jay heading toward your shared closet to figure out what to wear, and you returning to the bathroom to finish getting ready. he scanned the neatly hung clothes, staring a little too intensely as he tried to decide. he wasn’t sure what fit the occasion, and asking you would only add to the worries already crowding your mind.
instead, he peeked out of the closet, glancing toward the bathroom to catch a glimpse of what you were wearing, planning to base his outfit off that. it didn’t take long for him to pull together something that matched effortlessly.
he adjusted his shirt in the mirror, a quietly pleased look settling in as he admired the result. he knew he’d chosen the outfit specifically to complement yours—and he also knew that the two of you together would look good. not in a cringey, trying-too-hard way, but in a way that just worked.
he stepped back into the bathroom with you, grabbing his gel from the cabinet and running it through his hair.
“done?” you asked, glancing at him through the mirror.
“almost,” he replied, styling his hair with his hands. his gaze drifted to you, taking you in from head to toe before settling back on your eyes. “you look wonderful, darling,” he said easily, turning his attention back to his reflection as he finished.
you turned toward him, brow lifting with a small smile. “i’m not even done yet.”
he rinsed his hands, dried them, then turned back to you. leaning over slightly, he met your eyes. “and yet you already look so beautiful.”
your eyes searched his face, looking for any sign that shows he could be lying. finding none, you laughed softly and shook your head. “what am i going to do with you?”
he smirked, straightening up. “i’ll be waiting for you, take your time. don’t rush, okay?”
you waved him off. “yeah, yeah. now go on, i’ll be right out.” he paused for a moment, taking one last look at you and letting the sight of you sink in, before heading out to grab his shoes.
he set his shoes by the door and draped his coat over the edge of the couch, leaving them there for the moment. he moved through the house, making sure everything was in order—doors closed and locked, items organized, and everything safely put away. once he was satisfied, he returned to your shared room to check in on you and let you know where he’d be.
jay waited patiently outside—leaning against the wall, eyes tracing the stars as they shimmered across the sky. it didn’t take long for you to step out the door, rummaging through your bag with a quiet huff. he watched from the corner of his eye, amused as your frustration grew. without a word, he gently took the bag from your hands, ignoring the soft curses under your breath. it took him only a moment to find your keys and lock the front door before slinging the bag over his shoulder and holding his hand out to you.
“are you ready to go?” he asked, his calmness easing you instantly. with a small hum you took his hand, warmth spreading through your fingers as you leaned up to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.
“did i take too long?” you asked as you both started down the steps.
he shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “i told you to take your time. you don’t have to worry about me.”
he slowed, his gaze drifting over your outfit before stopping completely. “baby, are you sure you don’t want to grab a thicker jacket? it’s going to be cold tonight.”
you glanced down, then back at him. “no, i think i’m okay. we’re going to be inside anyways.”
his eyes lingered. “are you sure? we can go back and grab one before we leave. i’ll carry it for you.”
you shook your head and turned toward the sidewalk. “come on, i don’t want to be late—we’re already running a little behind as it is.”
jay followed, still a little hesitant before speaking again. “are you sure you want to walk there? i can drive us, it’s no trouble.”
“yes, baby, i’m sure.” you looked up at him with a playful smile. “i want to give you the full experience, after all.”
he raised his brows, a grin tugging at his lips as you pulled him along the sidewalk, your excitement impossible to hide. “alright then. if you say so.”
jay walked beside you, your hands intertwined—tucked safely and warmly inside his coat pocket. the two of you moved in quiet harmony, the soft sounds of the suburban streets surrounding you before the distant hum of the city began to grow nearer.
as you walked, you took in the familiar sights. it was your hometown, after all. you hadn’t been here in a while, and jay could tell by the sparkle in your eyes how much you missed it. he watched you with quiet admiration, noticing how you seemed to glow brighter in the place you belonged.
for him, it didn’t matter where he was—as long as he was with you, he already had everything he needed. you are the spark that keeps his heart warm. only your kisses could make him smile until his cheeks ached, and only your smile could make him want to move mountains just to see it again.
the faint scent of coffee that lingered on you brought him comfort; the softness of your skin, the quiet beauty of your presence—everything about you felt like home. and for jay, home would always be wherever you were.
so when you asked if you both could move to your hometown after the wedding, he agreed in a heartbeat—no hesitation, no questions, just a quiet smile that told you everything. but even then, he saw the guilt in your eyes. he saw the way your voice broke as you apologized, saying it would only make things harder for him—that maybe you shouldn’t go because it’d keep him from seeing his family so often.
it ached deep in his chest to know you thought he’d ever put anyone above you. he told you then, and he’ll tell you for the rest of his life—you’re his family now. you’re his wife. it’s you and him against the world, not you against him and everyone else. and every time you forget, he’ll remind you. again and again. until the words settle softly in your heart, until you finally believe that he will always choose you.
he never once regretted moving out here with you. not a single day passed where he thought about anything else but you—your shared life, your laughter, the quiet moments that made everything feel right. that’s all he ever wanted to care about.
your soft snort pulled him from his thoughts.
“what?” he asked, a smile already tugging at his lips as he caught the way your eyes curved into crescents.
“nothing, nothing,” you giggled, shaking your head.
he raised a brow, a smug grin spreading across his face as if he already knew what you were thinking. you let out a laugh, nudging his shoulder. “you’re staring again.”
“am i not allowed to admire my wife?” jay teased, squeezing your hand softly inside his pocket.
“not when you look at me like that,” you said, pretending to frown.
“like what?” he challenged lightly.
“like you’re about to say something cheesy,” you murmured, looking away before he could see the flush rising on your cheeks. he laughed softly, tilting his head to try and catch your gaze.
“me? cheesy? never.” he said, clearly lying through the smile tugging at his lips. you laughed, finally glancing back at him. “you so are.”
“i am not,” he argued, his grin only widening.
“you always say that, but you so are.” you shot back, poking his chest to tease him.
he caught your hand before you could pull away, intertwining your fingers again. “fine,” he said, voice softening. “but only for you.”
you rolled your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you, curving into a smile. he caught it instantly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he leaned in to give you a kiss on your forehead.
“see?” he murmured. “worth it.”
you shook your head, pretending to watch the road as you walked, but the streetlight caught the quiet curve of your smile. his chest ached with that familiar, tender way. that small smile had always meant everything to him.
he didn’t say anything for a moment, he only squeezed your hand a little tighter. the warmth between you shielding you both from the chill of the night. you leaned just a little closer, resting your head lightly against his shoulder.
“it’s nice,” you said softly.
“what’s nice?” he asked, though he already knew—how could he not, when he felt exactly the same?
“this,” you said simply, letting your fingers play with the seams of his jacket. “being with you. like this.”
jay felt his heart bloom in a way he couldn’t describe. you made him feel things he didn’t have words for. he leaned his head slightly toward yours. “yeah, it does feel nice.” he agreed quietly, his voice low beneath the sounds of the busy city, but steady and sure. “there’s nowhere else i’d rather be.”
you paused, looking up at him, eyes wide with adoration. the noise of the street seemed to fade, the awareness of anyone else around you slipping away just as easily. your steps slowed until you came to a stop.
“you always know the right thing to say,” you muttered, your fingers still tracing the seams of his jacket, unwilling to let go.
“maybe,” he said with a soft chuckle, tightening his hand around yours. “or maybe it’s just that being with you makes everything feel right.”
you laughed quietly, the sound warm and familiar. and in that moment, jay forgot about everything you’d planned for the rest of the night. all that mattered was this—your hands in his, the shared warmth between you, and the quiet certainty that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
he studied your features with quiet admiration, then reached out, his hand resting lightly on your face, cool against your warmth yet comforting all the same.
his thumb lingered on your cheek, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort before he leaned in just a little closer. then, soft and deliberate, his lips brushed against yours—a small, gentle peck at first, teasing and testing, before it deepened slightly, carrying all the warmth and certainty of the moment. he felt you melt into it—one hand tucked in the warmth of his jacket pocket, intertwined with his while the other clutched his arm, as his free hand held your face tenderly, grounding you both in the quiet intimacy of the kiss.
when he finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead rested lightly against yours. then he broke into a goofy smile, cheesing as if he was a teenager in high school having his very first kiss. your laugh joined his, light and warm.
“you’re ridiculous,” you teased, though your fingers stayed locked with his as you pulled him along to keep walking.
he continued walking beside you, completely lovestruck. your words barely registered as his gaze stayed on you. you snapped him out of his daze with a playful smack on his shoulder. he turned to you, that same toothy grin lighting up his face. “what?”
you rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh. “stop making that face, we’re here already.”
“what face?” he said, though he knew exactly what you meant, teasing you just to draw out your reaction.
you scoffed, trying to hide your smile, “you know exactly what face.”
he tilted his head, grinning like he’d just won a small battle. “maybe i do,” he said slowly, letting the words tease you, “but i love seeing your reactions. and your smile is a plus, so why should i stop?”
you huffed, cheeks warming, trying to look serious. “i’m not smiling!”
“sure,” he murmured, leaning a little closer, his eyes sparkling, “whatever you say.”
you turned your head away from him, exhaling a soft laugh, and he caught it like a prize, his grin widening.
“that’s it,” he said softly, guiding you through the door as he held it open for you, “i could listen to that all night.”
“oh, come on,” you muttered, warmth spreading to your cheeks as you stepped inside. “you’re something else.” you said softly, laughing under your breath as he grinned.
as you both walked through the restaurant, your eyes swept over the room before lighting up at the sight of the people you’d been looking for. as you neared the reserved table with your hand still locked with jay’s, the chatter seemed to pause. heads turned in your direction, smiles spreading across familiar faces as the sound of chairs scraping lightly against the floor filled the room while everyone stood to greet you. you beamed as you introduced jay to your childhood friends, exchanging easy small talk as he pulled out a chair for you. you both sat down among the familiar voices and laughter, the table already crowded with plates of food—fresh, warm, and waiting for everyone to dine in.
conversation flowed effortlessly, laughter slipping between bites and half-finished stories. jay mostly watched you, taking in how content you looked just to be there. he answered when spoken to, joined in when needed, but mostly stayed quiet—watching everything unfold. the laughter was easy, yet he could feel the weight of curious eyes on the two of you. every now and then, a question lingered too long, a smile faltered too quickly. you didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in the warmth of reunion, but jay did. he watched your friends closely, piecing together the reason behind their careful words and fleeting glances. just by the glint in their eyes and the way they worded certain things, he could tell some of them were bitter about the two of you. when they spoke to you, their eyes shimmered with a kind of interest that made jay think they still believed they had a chance. but when their gaze shifted to him sitting beside you, it was different—something sharper, almost resentful. the faint grimace that followed only made his brow lift, amusement flickering beneath his calm expression.
at that realization, he leaned back slightly, pride swelling in his chest as he wrapped an arm around you. he was here for you—only you, and it was obvious everyone else was too. it intrigued him, the subtle shifts he caught so easily: the way expressions faltered, how faces changed just a fraction whenever his presence reminded them that you were already his. the quiet competition, the unspoken way they all seemed to vie for your attention. he was a stranger in this space, an outsider to shared memories and long histories, and yet he held a quiet power all the same. one that lingered, unchallenged, keeping the people around you both in a kind of unspoken chokehold.
as you continued catching up with your friends, jay cleaned up your plates, stacking them neatly on top of his. you followed his lead, moving easily in rhythm with him. from the corners of his eyes, he could see them watching the two of you.
“wow… you guys really are in sync, huh?” one commented, voice tight. another nodded in agreement. “you two fit together better than i thought. i always imagined you’d end up with someone different.”
you laughed, unaware of the unspoken undertones behind their words, and reached to rub the knuckles of the hand now resting around you. “jay is like no other. i wouldn’t ask for anyone else.”
jay’s eyes locked with yours, and in that moment he could see the weight of your words, feel the depth of what you meant. his chest ached with the intensity of his love for you, too vast to contain. he smiled softly, letting himself be anchored by the certainty of your affection, hoping you could feel even a fraction of the love his heart held for you.
leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before settling back into his chair, pride brimming as he took in the faces around the table. your cheeks bloomed with color, surprise flashing across your features at the sudden display of affection in front of so many watchful eyes—but how could jay pass up a moment like this? a privilege that was his alone.
some of your friends exchanged subtle, uncertain glances, caught between admiration and envy. a few shifted in their seats, realizing that no teasing remark or playful comment could ever shake the bond the two of you shared. even in their surprise, it was clear—they recognized it, whether they wanted to admit it or not. every reaction, every expression, even the words they offered only fed jay’s satisfaction. his smile widened, quiet and knowing. they might want you, but they couldn’t have you—because he was right there beside you. a constant, unspoken reminder of where your heart truly belonged.
jay wasn’t the jealous type; he wouldn’t get rattled by a simple glance, and he wasn’t jealous now, because he already knew—you are his, just as he is yours. he didn’t blame them; he would likely be doing the same if he were in their position. he felt lucky. lucky to have you. lucky to be the person to wake up next to you each morning. lucky to face rough patches knowing you’d be there to support him. lucky to be the one you left with at the end of the night. he was only here for this moment, but he could see how much everyone else wanted you. and yet, he also knew the only one you wanted was him.
he let a slow exhale escape him. it wasn’t about showing off or proving anything—he simply felt grounded, complete, and quietly content. his mere presence seemed to shift the air around them, enough to make them notice, to make them pause. and yet, he was waiting. waiting for the moment he could really show you—how much he wanted you, how every touch, every brush of his hand, could make the world around you disappear. even now, he could see everyone else stepping aside, giving space for just the two of you as you prepared to leave. he knew, with unshakable certainty, that nothing could ever come between you.
as you both said your goodbyes, he couldn’t help the smug feeling that returned, knowing he was the one leaving with you. stepping out through the doors, you waved as everyone dispersed before turning to him with a soft sigh.
“man, that was fun. i haven’t been there in so long,” you said with warmth in your voice. “the food’s just as good as it was when i was a teenager.” then you caught his expression and lifted a brow. “what’s with that face?”
jay hummed, the sound thoughtful. “oh, nothing,” he replied easily. “you all used to go there a lot, right? i’m just wondering why we’re only going now, after living here for a little over three weeks.”
you studied him for a moment before shrugging and looking ahead. “yeah, it was kind of our spot. it was always open late, even after all the shenanigans we got into as kids. it just took a while for us to really settle into the house,” you explained. “and i wanted us to go together as a group—that way you could meet them, and also feel a bit of the same excitement i used to when we’d come here back then.” you glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “did you like it?”
he beams back. “i did. we should go back—just the two of us next time.”
you frown slightly. “you didn’t like them?”
jay slips his hand into yours, holding it gently. “it’s not that i didn’t,” he says softly. “i just prefer spending my time with you—giving you all of my attention.” he gives your hand a small squeeze. “though i wouldn’t mind going again with them. they’re actually pretty entertaining.”
you tilt your head, curiosity clear. “how so? there wasn’t anything they did that really stood out, at least not that i remember.”
he hummed, gaze drifting as he thought it over. “just the way they act, i guess. it’s nothing special.”
you pouted at the emptiness of his answer. he’d replied, sure, but he hadn’t really answered your question. with a quiet sigh, you accepted you weren’t going to get more out of him. “you’re weird,” you muttered, leaning your head against his shoulder as you walked.
he let out a soft chuckle. “are you cold? your hands feel kind of chilly.”
you shook your head slightly. “not really.”
he raised a brow. “oh, really?”
you shot him a glare. “yes.”
he smirked at your reaction before looking ahead. “then i guess that’s why you’re basically clinging to me right now, huh?”
you immediately pulled away, suddenly aware that you’d been holding onto his arm, practically cuddling into him. “what? no!” you straightened up quickly. “god, wives can’t even hold their husbands’ hands without being questioned nowadays?”
he laughed, shrugging off his coat without a second thought. “you know that’s not it.” gently, he placed his hands on your shoulders and helped you slip the coat on. “if you’re cold, just say so. i can’t have you freezing now, can i?”
you puffed out your cheeks in defeat. “whatever.”
he held his hand out, offering it without a word, giving you the choice to take it or not. you stared at his hand before looking up at him, only to find him watching you softly, waiting with quiet patience.
a small smile cracked across your face. with a huff, you slipped your hand into his. you tugged him along as you both started walking again.
“come on,” you said, “we’ve got a long way to go, and you’re already stressing me out this early into the walk back.”
he looked at you, surprised. “what did i do?!”
you could only shake your head, warmth settling in your chest as jay’s soft chuckle followed. side by side, you made your way back home—back to a place where jay could have you all to himself.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
: ̗̀➛ gallery
please DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate ANY of my works in any way.
YES, NO, MAYBE? [SERIES MASTERLIST] — Park Jongseong
↪synopsis: you develop a crush on jay the moment your eyes land on him and you immediately decide this is a problem because he's too pretty. unfortunately, chaewon tells you that he has been in a long-term relationship for years. which means your crush is doomed before it even starts. still, having a tiny harmless crush on someone unavailable has never killed anybody...right? are you doomed? yes, no, maybe?
↪ pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader | ↪ featuring: le serrafim's chaewon & yunjin as reader's bffs | ↪ genre: university au, strangers to friends to lovers, slowburn, slight angst | ↪ type: SMAU | ↪ status: ongoing | ↪warning: slow-burn, jay is quiet and reserved, a bit of toxic friendship dynamic.
↪ author's note: the taglist is now open!
↪ posting schedule: updates twice a week (sundays & wednesdays)
↪meet cute with characters:
↪the stort so far:
chapter i | chapter ii | chapter iii | chapter iv | chapter v | chapter vi | chapter vii | chapter viii | chapter ix | chapter x | chapter xi | chapter xii | chapter xiii (upcoming)
↪disclaimer: this is a fictional work, the characters in this story do not represent the real idols in any way. please separate fiction from reality. do not copy, repost or translate without permission.
• Day 26: City lights - 박종성
↳ ┊: smooth operator - sade
꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆falling for your brother's teammate ⨾
۶ৎ f1 racer!jay x fem!reader┆fluff┆petnames, brother's best friend, sunghoon is reader's brother┆wc 633
⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: smoooooooooooooooooth operatorrrrrrrrrr (can you tell my f1 knowledge has expanded since my heeseung fic?) also, don't mind enhypen just casually replacing the redbull drivers...it's for the plot...
part 2
꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱
being the younger sister of the famous red bull driver, park sunghoon, definitely had its perks. the fans called you "angel" because you were the sweetest, most supportive sister ever, showing up to every race, bringing freshly baked pastries for the engineers and pit crew members. you were red bull's angel.
however, another perk was being able to become closer with jay park, the other red bull driver, who you had been crushing on ever since sunghoon first introduced you to him.
he has a sharp and defined jawline, a fierce determination in his eyes, and a really sweet heart. everything was a perfect explanation on why jay park was the guy of your dreams.
but of course, sunghoon was very protective of you, not wanting any of the racers to get involved with you. you just hoped he had a soft spot for teammates...
it was the weekend of the grand prix in singapore and right on time, you walked in with a huge tray of fresh cookies, a huge smile on your lips as you were super hyped for today's race. you were wearing a simple over-sized hoodie over your favorite baggy jeans, but it was enough to make one person's head turn.
from across the room, jay's eyes followed you as you greeted your brother and some crew members, waiting till you were finally settled in to get to you.
"hey angel," he says softly, his hand gently connecting with the small of your back. your head whips around to see who it was, your eyes crinkling into crescents once you see jay.
"jay! are you excited for today?" you beam, throwing your arms around him in a hug. he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as well.
"for sure. i'm bringing home that trophy no matter what!" he laughs confidently, pulling away just in case your brother was watching.
jay had always seen you as more than "park sunghoon's sister" and "the angel of redbull", he saw you as you, the sweet girl who had a big heart and wanted to support him and your brother as much as possible.
after a bit of chatting, it was time for jay to get ready for the race. bidding you a goodbye and a promise to bring back a trophy, jay quickly jogged after sunghoon who had already left him behind.
right before jay stepped into the cockpit of his car, sunghoon came over and put his hand on his shoulder firmly, signalling that whatever he was about to say was important.
"listen...i'm not great with being all sappy and bromantic, but i just wanted to let you know that if you want her, go get her," sunghoon exhales, his gaze locked on jay's.
"dude what-"
"i've seen the way you act around y/n, it's obvious you like her. and honestly, i'm not even upset, i'm just glad it isn't antonelli flirting with her again," he mutters, cursing out the mercedes driver.
"wait wait wait- you want me to confess to y/n?? like- you're totally chill with this?!" jay faltered, not sure if his hearing was getting to him.
"yep," sunghoon shrugs nonchalantly. "she's head over heels for you so why would i try and stop it?"
"she likes me back???" jay's jaw drops as all of this information gets dumped on him.
"yep," sunghoon nods, the 'p' popping. "anyway, good luck on the race! red bull for the win!" sunghoon smiles like he didn't just leave jay questioning his whole life, before skipping away to his own car.
now he had to win this. for you, for himself, and to most importantly, get back quick enough to tell you exactly how he felt.
62 laps until he could tell you how much he loved you. yeah, he's winning this race.
note: fun fact i’m actually sick right now which gave me this idea, i feel pretty out of it but this scenario is just too cute not to write so bare with me if this is bad (and also thank you so much for all the notes on my jw fic i appreciate it!!!)
it’s currently 6am, jay was quietly getting himself ready in the dim lighting to head to work whilst you were in deep sleep. right before you two went to sleep last night, you were sneezing quite a lot which was unusual and you could feel that blockage in your sinus that you were sure would hit you in the morning, it was unbearable.
the sound of jay’s loafers echoing across the room as he walked slightly shook you up, your hair all messy, right eye somewhat swollen, didn’t feel like you woke up at all. jay notices you stir up and freezes to look at you, you’re still in the same, drowsy position with only your eyes meeting his.
“did i wake you?” he asks, his eyes still on you while he buttons up his shirt.
“mm… kind of, yeah.” you reply faintly. you sink your face back into the pillow with your eyes still half shut, letting out a dry cough. the uncomfortable feeling in your throat just worsened the more you tried to clear it out with a cough, jay eyed your burnt out state and comes up to you, kneeling down by your side reaching head level with you.
“baby, want me to cook you something warm, some soup?” he questioned softly as his hand interlinked with yours, giving the back of your hand a kiss.
you shake your head giving him a polite yet weak smile, “it’s fine, i’ll order some later. you go get ready.”
“i have time.” he says while observing the drained expression plastered all over your face from the continuous sneezing last night. you’re way too tired to even go against that, especially since you adore his cooking. “let me take care of you.” he mutters, giving you two light pats on your head before pushing himself up.
he kicked off his shoes and walks over to the kitchen then gathering the ingredients for the meal, he lays them out carefully on the counter. of course, he puts on an apron to make sure not a single bit of liquid spills on his ironed shirt.
once he finished mixing all the ingredients into the pot, he switched on the gas letting it simmer for a bit until the chicken got tender, in the meantime he grabbed the final seasonings to give it a pinch of flavor.
after about 30 minutes, jay heard a knock coming from the bedroom side and he peeped to see you awake, leaning against the doorframe. you could smell the scent of the soup from a room away which had you interested.
“morning my love, how are you feeling?” he asks then scanning you from head to toe, his hand still gently stirring the soup that’s nearly done.
“good morning, i’m a tiny bit better. stuffy nose is still there though it’s so irritating. and you haven’t left for work?” you ask while scratching the back of your neck, you walk up closer to him peeking over his shoulder to get a glimpse of the pot. “i made you some chicken and veggie soup.” he ignores your question and opens the lid, he takes the ladle to serve you some soup into a bowl.
“let me know how it tastes, be careful it’s hot.”
he passes you the bowl with a tissue underneath to prevent the heat from startling you. you take a sip of the soup, letting the delectable flavor hit the back of your throat and look back up at him, you nod satisfied with the results, he smiles at your review and takes the bowl back to give you an actual serving.
“okay okay good, sit at the table and i’ll get you your soup.” you do as he says and wait patiently. “thanks babe, really. your cooking does it for me every time.”
jay silently giggles, touched by your words; he shakes his head letting you know it was the bare minimum.
“by the way you didn’t answer my question from earlier, why’d you stay?” you ask once again, already aware of the answer but, you wanted to hear the words from him.
he leaves you hanging for a moment before facing your direction with the soup in his hands, he places it in front you with the utensil on the side. “well you’re heavily sick and i’m not gonna leave you here to heal by yourself, not in that condition. that’s why i’m here.” he replies wholeheartedly before heading back to the kitchen.
“tell me how you feel after the soup, okay? and let me know if you need anything else.”
seriously, he’s the standard.
not that long after, you finished your meal which thankfully eased your sore throat and walk over to the kitchen to set the bowl in the sink. you were reaching for the sponge until jay grasps your hand.
“go rest, i’ll wash the bowl.”
you gush at his stern tone finding the princess treatment endearing. “you’ve done enough—”
“i said rest. please? he pleads, giving you a soft kiss on your temple to drive you away from the dishes, you huff playfully and back up—letting him take the lead. he grabs the liquid soap and works his way through the plates, meanwhile, you head back to the bedroom and make yourself comfortable. you tuck yourself into the blanket and let out a long sigh in relief, feeling a little more pleased that jay’s in the house with you whilst your unwell. you rest your head against the soft headboard and close your eyes, letting sleep take over.
you feel a few pats on your shoulder and jolt up to see jay, holding a glass of ginger tea with a gentle smile spread over his face. he’s always known how your body shifts once you have some warm ginger tea, natural medicine.
“did the soup earlier help?” he places down the tea on the bedside table and feels your forehead with the back of his hand, still quite warm but visible the symptoms weakened. you nod back at his question which relieved him, he climbs onto the bed and scoots over next to you. his cheek relaxes on your shoulder as he watches you take a sip of your tea, the steam lightly hits his face.
“you’re too kind to me, i can’t.” your arm hugs around his head bringing him closer, he plants a few kisses on your shoulder before drifting his eyes back to yours. “you deserve all the love in the world from me, trust me, i’d do way more for you than just this.” he says genuine, maintaining eye contact with you which had you giddy enough to look away out of embarrassment. you wrap your arms around his waist, doubling the amount of kisses he gave you on his cheek and collarbone. “my bad if you wake up with a cold due to me.” jay giggles then shaking his head, “and you think i care about that?” he whispers back, his lips brushing along your neck, “kiss me all you want.”
