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writingouthere · 1 year ago

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bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot

summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.

cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.

**************

"I'm pregnant!"

Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.

Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."

"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.

"Holy shit, did you two-"

"No!"

"Ew, no!"

Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."

You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."

"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"

"Hey!"

"-then who did?"

You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."

Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.

"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"

"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."

Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.

"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."

With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.

You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.

You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.

"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"

"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.

"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."

"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."

He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.

"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.

"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.

"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."

You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.

"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."

You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.

"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.

"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.

"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"

"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."

"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."

"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"

"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.

"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.

"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."

The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.

"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."

You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.

"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.

"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.

"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.

"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"

He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.

He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.

Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.

"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.

"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.

"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.

"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."

For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.

"What-"

"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."

Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"

"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."

You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"

"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."

When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.

If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.

dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.

side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.

#jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut

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jungkoode · 10 days ago

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死 KKANGPAE | #19 死

† infiltration †

"When you ask about Sylvia, you are poking at wounds that run deeper than any knife Jeon's ever taken to the chest."

next | index

— chapter details

word count: 8.2k

content: the infiltration mission begins with motorcycle rides and pine-scented tension, jeon's impromptu marriage lie creates dangerous dynamics, seduction division training put to deadly use against fervio and kaleido, comm line conversations revealing painful histories, successful bug planting while y/n plays the most dangerous game of flirtation, and one name that changes everything

☠ author's note ☠

THE INFILTRATION MISSION IS FINALLY HERE!!! Can I just say how absolutely FERAL I am about this chapter?? Because holy SHIT did this turn out more intense than I planned. Originally this was going to be a straightforward "get in, plant bug, get out" situation but then my brain said "hey what if we make this psychologically devastating instead?" and here we are!

First off, let's talk about Jeon on that motorcycle because DEAR GOD. Writing him all leather-clad and dangerous while being simultaneously protective and calculating? *chef's kiss* The man really said "let me create the perfect storm of sexual tension and strategic brilliance" and then had the AUDACITY to pull that husband stunt. Like sir, who gave you permission to be that smooth under pressure? The way he reads Kaleido's predatory nature and immediately adapts the cover story? That's not just tactical genius, that's emotional intelligence wrapped in a bulletproof vest and it's SO fucking attractive.

But can we also discuss the absolute NIGHTMARE that is Fervio? Writing that character genuinely made my skin crawl. I spent SO much time researching the psychology of sadistic personalities to make him authentically terrifying without glorifying anything. The yellow contacts, the theatrical cruelty, the way he gets off on psychological manipulation—every detail was chosen to make readers feel the same visceral discomfort that Y/N experiences. And Y/N having to flirt with that monster while maintaining her cover? That girl deserves a medal for not throwing up or committing murder on the spot.

The comm line dynamics absolutely DESTROYED me to write. Having AD and Jeon's fractured relationship play out in real-time while Jeon's navigating enemy territory? The guilt, the anger, the way old wounds keep reopening? And then that slip about Sylvia—OOPS. Y/N hearing that name and filing it away for later? The way Jeon's walls SLAM back up the second she asks about it? I'm obsessed with how trauma shapes every interaction between these characters, how the past keeps bleeding into the present no matter how hard they try to compartmentalize.

Speaking of compartmentalizing—Y/N's performance in this chapter showcases exactly why she belongs in Seduction Division. The way she reads the room, adapts to Jeon's improvisation, keeps both psychopaths distracted while processing the horror of their situation? That's not just survival, that's mastery. She's not some damsel being protected; she's a professional doing her job under the worst possible circumstances. The balance between vulnerability and competence, between genuine fear and trained composure—that's what makes her such a compelling character.

The ending though? Jeon retreating back into his shell the moment Y/N shows curiosity about his past? PAIN. Pure, unadulterated emotional pain. He's so desperate to maintain distance, to keep his trauma locked away, but Y/N's already under his skin. She's asking the right questions and it terrifies him. Because letting someone see your wounds means risking them poking at them, and Jeon's been hurt enough for several lifetimes.

Next chapter is going to be... *evil laughter* ...let's just say the aftermath of this mission is going to hit DIFFERENT. Hope you're ready for some serious emotional excavation because these two aren't done processing what just happened. Not by a long shot.

Edit: Also, yeah. The coins was a post-editing addition because I’ve been watching the John Wick movies and I loved the coin system so I adapted it heheheheh. 🤭

— read on

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Pine is all you can smell right now.

It's annoying, really, how the air outside the night air hits different outside the castle. It's crisp—almost sharp against your skin.

And of course, because the universe loves to fuck with you, it's saturated with that distinct scent of pine and wood that follows Jeon everywhere.

You check your phone. 22:00. Perfect timing.

The moon's doing that thing where it makes everything look like a noir film, all dramatic shadows and silver light washing over the castle grounds. It's actually kind of pretty, in a moody sort of way.

Jeon's walking ahead of you, and god—even his walk is intimidating.

The air around him swirls slightly, tinged with static. Like a thunderstorm incoming.

You're starting to think his whole 'I must look badass 24/7' thing is just his default setting.

The gravel crunches under his boots as he approaches his bike. It's this sleek, black monster of a machine that somehow manages to look both elegant and menacing.

Just like its owner, you think, watching him move with that fluid grace that comes from years of... well, probably things you'd rather not think about.

He opens a compartment on the bike, pulling out leather gloves with an ease that makes it look like he's done this a thousand times before. Which, knowing him, he probably has. The way he slides them on is almost hypnotic—not that you're staring or anything.

(d̶e̶f̶i̶n̶i̶t̶e̶l̶y̶ maybe staring.)

Then he's got two helmets in his hands, checking them over like he's inspecting weapons.

Everything's a tactical operation with this man, isn't it?

He puts his on first, and suddenly Chief Jeon of Tactical Assassinations is fully activated. The transformation would be impressive if it wasn't so intense.

The second helmet comes flying at you without warning.

Your hands scramble to catch it—which you do, thankfully, because dropping it would be mortifying. But then comes the real challenge: actually putting the damn thing on.

The straps are being particularly bitchy tonight. They keep slipping through your fingers like they're coated in butter or something. You're probably making this look way harder than it needs to be, but whatever.

You catch Jeon watching you, and there's this tiny smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. It's barely there, but you've learned to spot these micro-expressions of his. The fact that you can read him at all is probably something you should worry about later.

"You always manage to make the simplest tasks look like a battle," he says, voice slightly muffled by his helmet.

The words should sting, but there's this undercurrent of... something else. Something almost playful, if you didn't know better.

He steps closer, and fuck—the wind hits you full force.

It's like being caught in the eye of a storm, where everything's calm but you know there's chaos just inches away.

His gloved hands reach for the straps, and despite the leather barrier, his touch is weirdly gentle.

Clinical, sure, but gentle.

"There," he says, and it's just one word but it feels loaded.

You make the mistake of looking up at his eyes—those dark, intense eyes that make you feel like you're being dissected and devoured all at once.

"Thanks," you manage to say, keeping your voice steady because you refuse to let him see how much he affects you. "I guess I'm still not used to all this."

He takes a step back, and you can breathe again. His expression is back to that unreadable mask he wears so well.

"You're still fairly new, you've got time to learn. Everyone does, eventually."

Silence. Words hovering between you, carried by the night breeze.

If you were s̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶ optimistic enough, you might think his voice had softened just a bit. But you know better.

You've learned better.

"We should get going," he says, breaking whatever moment was building. "We have a long night ahead of us."

Yeah, you think. A long night of pretending this tension doesn't exist.

Jeon swings his leg over the bike with this fluid grace that's honestly unfair, engine purring beneath him like some mechanical beast waiting to be unleashed.

You climb on after him, trying (and probably failing) to look half as graceful. The leather seat is cool against your thighs, and you're suddenly very aware of how close you need to be.

Fuck it.

You wrap your arms around his torso, hands splaying across his abdomen. Even through his jacket, you can feel how solid he is—all muscle, all heat, like a human furnace.

The proximity makes your skin tingle where you're pressed against him.

He goes completely still for a moment. You feel his breath catch, just slightly. Then he relaxes, and you could swear the air shifts, becoming less stormy, more like a breeze.

The engine growls louder as he revs it.

"Hold on tight," he says, and you know that tone. That's his 'I'm-about-to-be-a-little-shit' voice. "Don't let go."

You barely have time to process the warning before he twists the throttle.

The bike lurches forward and—holy shit—you slam back against him, the sudden acceleration catching you completely off guard. A very u̶n̶d̶i̶g̶n̶i̶f̶i̶e̶d̶ surprised yelp escapes you as he immediately cuts the speed, leaving you pressed firmly against his back.

The bastard chuckles. You can feel it rumble through his chest where you're plastered against him.

"Gotta hold on tighter than that, sunshine," he taunts, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "Don't want you flying off the back now."

You smack his shoulder, hard enough to mean business but not enough to actually hurt.

Not that you could probably hurt him anyway. He's like a fucking brick wall.

"You're such a dick," you mutter, but you're fighting back a smile he can't see.

You can practically feel his shit-eating grin and you're starting to think this whole helmet struggle earlier was just an excuse to mess with you.

"Maybe I should drive," you say, matching his teasing tone. "Since you clearly can't be trusted to act like a proper adult."

"In your dreams, sunshine." The pet name rolls off his tongue like honey-coated poison. "Now hold on properly, unless you want another demonstration."

You tighten your grip around him—maybe a bit more forcefully than necessary. Your chest presses flush against his back, and you swear you feel his breath hitch again.

"Just drive the damn bike, Jeon," you say, trying to sound annoyed but probably failing miserably.

"Yes ma'am," he drawls, and this time when he revs the engine, the acceleration is smooth as silk as you both glide into the darkness.

The bike thunders beneath you, eating up the empty backroads leading away from the castle.

You catch glimpses of city lights in the distance, little pinpricks of civilization breaking through the darkness.

Jeon handles the bike like it's an extension of himself, without exaggeration.

His back is solid against your chest, and you're definitely n̶o̶t̶ totally noticing how the leather jacket stretches across his shoulders with each turn. One gloved hand stays steady on the throttle while the other grips the handlebar confidently.

The road then straightens out, and Jeon takes full advantage.

The engine roars as he opens up the throttle, and you instinctively press closer. Your thighs tighten around the bike, and you swear you feel him tense for a split second before relaxing again.

After that, your world becomes a blur of shadows and occasional bursts of neon. Each mile brings you closer to the city, that concrete jungle where your target is hiding.

The buildings start growing taller, streets getting busier, and Jeon weaves through traffic with this contained impatience that you feel in your bones. Every block brings you deeper into enemy territory, and you can't help but think about what's waiting at the end of this ride.

God, you think, this is actually happening.

The bike slows as Jeon turns down an alley, the engine's growl echoing off brick walls before he kills it.

You've stopped beside this completely unremarkable door that somehow manages to look threatening anyway.

Because you know what's behind it.

Who's behind it.

Jeon pulls off his helmet, and those dark eyes find yours.

They're intense, focused—the kind of look that makes your stomach do this weird flip thing you're choosing to ignore.

"We're here," he says, voice low and serious.

You resist the urge to say 'no shit.'

Barely.

Jeon slides off the bike and you follow, yanking off the helmet and running fingers through your hair to fix whatever mess the wind made of it.

The alley you're in is sketchy as fuck—all grimy walls and creepy shadows.

And to add onto that—a siren wails somewhere in the distance before dying out, and you can't help but think how perfectly ominous that is.

You take a deep breath, trying to get your shit together.

The mission brief keeps playing in your head like some twisted PowerPoint presentation: get in, play nice with the bad guys, wait for the lights to go out.

Easy peasy.

Right.

No pressure or anything—just the tiny matter of infiltrating a rival gang's hideout.

Then, Jeon is moving—towards the grimy door.

Wind cuts through the clothing that shields you from the force of nature he is.

You follow close behind, channeling every ounce of that Seduction Division training into looking like you absolutely belong here. Time to put on the mask, become whoever these assholes need you to be.

Jeon knocks on the door—two quick taps, one long, two quick. The sound bounces off the alley walls before getting swallowed by the night.

For a moment, there's nothing but silence and your heartbeat doing this annoying thing where it won't slow the fuck down.

Then comes the click of locks, and the door swings open to reveal this absolute unit of a guy. His face is mostly shadow, but his suspicion? That's crystal clear.

He gives you both this once-over that practically screams 'I don't trust you,' but steps aside anyway.

Jeon walks in first, and you follow his lead, channeling your inner bad bitch because that's what's gonna keep you alive tonight.

The inside is like every seedy underground bar in every crime movie ever, except the smell is worse. It's this nasty cocktail of booze and something sickeningly sweet that makes your nose want to revolt. You force yourself not to react, keeping your face neutral even though your lungs are screaming.

You weave through the crowd behind Jeon, feeling eyes tracking your movement. Some look curious, others suspicious, but most are too wasted or high to give a shit. You keep your head high, shoulders back, playing the role of someone who's seen it all and isn't impressed.

Jeon posts up at the bar like he's been coming here his whole life. When the bartender comes over, Jeon pulls this smile that's all teeth and zero warmth. It's kind of terrifying how good he is at this.

"We're here to see Kaleido," he says, smooth as silk. "Tell him the traders he's been expecting have arrived."

The bartender's got a sour face on. "I don't know any Kaleido," he says, flat and cold.

But Jeon? He doesn't even blink. Just does this thing where he bites the inside of his cheek—which is not distracting at all—and pulls out two golden coins, sliding them across the counter like he's dealing cards.

"We're the new faces in town," he says, casual as fuck. "Kaleido is expecting us."

You resist the urge to smirk. Because damn, he's good at this.

The bartender snatches up the coins like they personally offended him. His eyes flick between the metal and your faces, doing that thing where he's trying real hard to catch you in a lie. You keep your face neutral even though your stomach's doing gymnastics.

After what feels like fucking forever, he gives this tiny nod that probably killed him inside and slides the coins in his pocket.

"Wait here," he grunts, disappearing through a door that's seen better days.

You fight the urge to bounce your leg or fidget with your clothes or do any of the thousand nervous tells that would blow your cover right now.

The wait is excruciating. You're about to lose your mind when the bartender finally emerges with this dude looks like he bench presses cars for fun, with a face that's all hard angles and zero emotion. He doesn't say a word, just jerks his head toward the back like you're supposed to know what that means.

Jeon pushes off the bar, and the way he straightens up is somehow both lazy and intimidating. He tilts his head slightly—your cue to follow. Your heart's going absolutely feral in your chest, but you've got your game face locked down tight.

No backing out now.

You follow Jeon and Mr. Mountain through the crowd.

The place is exactly what you'd expect from a seedy underground bar—sketchy people having sketchy conversations over even sketchier drinks.

The hallway they lead you down is grimy as fuck, and you can hear music thumping through the walls from somewhere nearby.

Muscles McGee opens a door to what has to be the most depressing room you've ever seen—dim, small, and probably hasn't seen a cleaning crew since the 90s.

"Kaleido will be with you shortly," he rumbles, and his voice matches his appearance perfectly—like gravel in a blender.

The door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone with Jeon.

His eyes find yours in the low light, and there's this whole conversation happening without words.

You both know what's at stake here.

One wrong move and you're both d̶e̶a̶d̶ screwed.

The door swings open again, and in walks this guy who looks like he raided a rapper's closet. His suit probably costs more than your yearly salary, and he's wearing enough gold to fund a small country.

He gives you this dismissive once-over that makes your blood boil before turning to Jeon with barely concealed suspicion.

"Was told to expect the woman," he drawls, sounding bored out of his mind. "Didn't mention anything about a man crashing our little party."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Men.

Jeon's eyes narrow just a fraction, but you jump in before he can say something that'll probably piss everyone off.

"I'm the one you're here to meet," you say, keeping your voice smooth and professional. "My associate is—"

"Her husband," Jeon cuts in, voice like silk over steel.

The word rolls off his tongue like he's been saying it his whole life instead of pulling it out of his ass two seconds ago.

You shoot him a look that could curdle milk.

Husband? Really?

But Jeon's locked onto Kaleido like a sniper on his target, completely ignoring your death glare. His jaw is set in that way that means he's about to be a stubborn ass about something.

Kaleido's laugh is sharp and mocking, the kind that makes you want to punch teeth.

"Her husband?" He looks between you both like this is the funniest shit he's seen all week. "What, she needs a big scary guard dog to hold her hand during business deals?"

You watch Jeon's jaw clench, the muscle jumping under his skin. But his voice stays steady, dangerous in its calmness.

"More like insurance."

You clear your throat, loud enough to make a point.

"As I was saying"—and you put just enough emphasis on that word to let Jeon know you'll be having words about this later—"my associate and I have some opportunities that might interest you. The kind that makes serious money."

Kaleido finally tears his eyes away from Jeon to look at you, and something in his gaze makes your skin recoil.

"Well then," he drawls, dropping into his chair like a king on his throne, "let's talk business."

His eyes rake over you both, lingering a bit too long for comfort.

"Impress me."

You meet his stare head-on because fuck that—you're not some rookie who's gonna get intimidated by his wannabe mob boss act.

Time to put all that Seduction Division training to work.

You've got a whole script of lies ready to roll off your tongue, each one crafted to hook this smug bastard right where you want him.

Game fucking on.

You start laying out the deal, watching Kaleido's face shift from bored rich boy to actually interested businessman. But part of your brain is still stuck on Jeon's little improvisation. Because Jeon doesn't do random—every move is calculated, every word chosen for maximum effect.

He saw something in Kaleido that made him change the plan.

And whatever it was, it was bad enough to make him go full protective mode.

"So these new routes we've set up?" You tap the documents as you slide them across the table, keeping your voice casual but confident. "They'll keep the good shit flowing steady. Premium grade only—none of that watered-down crap."

Kaleido snatches up the papers like they're made of gold, those calculating eyes scanning every detail. His perfectly manicured finger stops at something, and his face does this thing where he's trying to look unimpressed but you can tell he's interested.

"End of next week? With customs breathing down everyone's neck lately?" He clicks his tongue. "That's a bold claim."

His eyes lock onto yours, and it feels like being dissected. You can feel the cold breeze intensify beside you, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.

But you've got this. This is what you were trained for.

"Yeah, customs is a bitch lately," you say with a knowing smirk, leaning forward slightly. "Good thing we've got someone on the inside who's very invested in looking the other way."

You tap the timeline sheet with one perfectly manicured nail.

"See this? Already factored in their... cooperation. We might work outside the law, but we're not stupid about it."

Kaleido stares at the paper for what feels like forever, then his eyes snap back to you. His eyebrows climb up his forehead, and suddenly he's grinning like you just told him his favorite candy is back in store. He claps once, the sound sharp and jarring in the small room.

"Well, fuck me," he says, sounding genuinely impressed. "You actually know what you're talking about."

He stands up, straightening his ridiculous designer suit.

"There's someone else who needs to hear this. Come on."

He gestures toward a door at the back of the room like some fancy maître d' inviting you to the VIP section.

You catch Jeon's eye for a split second—just long enough to see the tension in his jaw.

Something's off about this whole thing, but you're in too deep to back out now.

You follow Kaleido down this sketchy-ass hallway.

The subvocal mic hidden in your collar is tiny but feels like it weighs a ton as you activate it.

"What the fuck was that husband shit about?" you whisper, making sure your lips barely move. "Because I know you didn't just pull that out of your ass for fun."

Jeon's voice comes through your earpiece, quiet but crystal clear.

"Guys like him?" There's a edge to his voice that makes your skin prickle. "They see single women as prey. Trust me on this one."

Oh. Well, shit.

You throw a glance over your shoulder, brows furrowed because what the actual fuck is going on in that tactical brain of his. But Jeon's already explaining through the subvocals, his voice low and steady in your ear.

"These types get off on finding weak spots they can dig their fingers into," he murmurs, and something in his tone makes your skin prickle. "A couple? That's like serving them weakness on a silver fucking platter."

You have to fight to keep your voice down. "So you just painted a giant fucking target on our backs for fun?"

"Think of it as controlled bait," he says, and you can practically hear that annoying smirk in his voice. "They see what looks like an obvious pressure point, but they also see two people who won't let the other out of their sight. Can't divide what won't separate."

Kaleido throws this look over his shoulder that's trying way too hard to be casual. You flash him your best trophy-wife smile before turning back to your hushed conversation.

"I don't like playing from behind," you breathe into the mic. "If this blows up in our faces—"

"It won't." The certainty in his voice would be irritating if you didn't know how that big brain of his works. "Guys like Kaleido? They're like snakes. They won't strike without knowing exactly where to sink their fangs. Marriage looks like an easy weak spot to exploit, but it also means they have to be real careful about how they play it. Nobody wants to poke a bear and its mate."

You chew on your bottom lip as you follow Kaleido through another door into what looks like some bougie conference room from hell.

"So what you're saying is," you whisper, working it out, "we look like an easy mark, but we're actually too much of a pain in the ass to fuck with directly?"

The tiny nod he gives is barely perceptible. "Bingo. It's all about the balance—make him think he's got leverage, but make him second-guess using it."

You take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The pieces are starting to click into place.

"Okay, yeah. I get what you're doing here."

It's actually kind of brilliant, in a fucked-up way. Present a tempting target that's also too risky to take a shot at.

Classic Jeon strategy—making someone think they've got the upper hand while he's actually ten steps ahead.

You just hope his read on Kaleido is as accurate as he thinks it is.

The new room is bigger, fancier, trying way too hard to look impressive.

But what catches your attention isn't the tacky decor—it's the guy sprawled in this throne-like chair (what's with these people and thrones?). His hair's this violent shade of red, styled up in a mohawk that screams 'look at me, I'm dangerous.'

But it's his eyes that make your stomach drop.

Yellow contacts that make him look like some kind of Boomslang sizing up its next meal.

You feel Jeon go completely still beside you, every muscle in his body coiled tight. The air around him sharpens into something deadly, and you just know this situation just went from bad to absolutely fucked.

"Where the fuck are you going?" AD's voice cuts through your earpiece, sharp and irritated.

You tilt your head slightly, keeping your voice barely above a whisper. "Kaleido brought us to meet someone else. Apparently, they're very interested in our deal."

"Who?" The way AD snaps the word makes your skin prickle.

"Red mohawk. Yellow contacts. Looks like he raided some goth's closet," you murmur, trying to keep the tension out of your voice.

There's this pause that feels heavy enough to crush your lungs.

Then AD's voice comes back, cold as ice: "That's Fervio."

"Motherfucker," Jeon mutters under his breath, and the fact that he's breaking radio silence to curse tells you everything you need to know about how deeply shit you are.

You glance between Mohawk Guy—Fervio—and Jeon, trying to piece together why everyone's suddenly acting like you're standing in front of Death himself.

Your confusion must show somehow through the comms because AD starts talking again, his voice tight with barely contained urgency.

"Listen carefully. Fervio's not just another MDF thug. He's their fucking torture specialist." There's a rustling sound, like AD's leaning closer to his mic. "We're talking serious psychological damage. The kind of shit that keeps other psychopaths up at night. Makes V look like a boy scout."

"Hey!" V's voice cuts in, sounding actually offended. "I have standards, okay? And do you know how hard it is to get blood out of designer suits?"

"Both of you, shut up," RM's voice slices through the chatter, cold and commanding. "Get out. Now. Before he decides you look interesting."

You watch Fervio rise from his chair with this fluid grace that makes your skin crawl, yellow eyes locking onto you both like a snake spotting mice.

"We can't," you breathe into the comm, keeping your face neutral even though your heart's trying to punch through your ribs. "Backing out now would be suspicious as fuck."

Great, you think. Just great.

Of all the psychos in MDF, you had to run into their resident Hannibal Lecter.

Before AD can continue with his rant, J-Hope's voice cuts in, sharp and deadly serious.

"Listen here, you little shit," he hisses, and you've never heard him sound this intense before. "That psycho in front of you? I've had to put his victims back together. Multiple fucking times. And let me tell you something—there usually isn't enough left to work with. The things he does to people? That's not normal torture. That's not even human. He's a fucking monster wearing people skin for fun."

Your stomach does this violent flip thing, but you keep your face perfectly blank. Years of Flower's training kicking in as Fervio stalks toward you.

Those yellow contacts make him look like something that crawled out of a horror movie, and that smile—fuck, that smile is all kinds of wrong.

Next to you, Jeon's whole soul has turned deadly, like the kind of storm that levels entire cities. His body is coiled so tight you can practically hear his muscles screaming, ready to launch at Fervio's throat at the smallest wrong move.

"We need to find another way," you breathe into the comm, barely moving your lips. "But if we bolt now, this place turns into a fucking slaughterhouse. We stick to the plan."

AD starts cursing in your ear, and J-Hope's protests get even more colorful, but you tune them out.

Time to put on the performance of your life.

You stretch your lips into what you hope is a convincing smile and extend your hand to Fervio.

"Pleasure to meet you," you say, voice steady despite your heart trying to punch through your ribcage. "Kaleido mentioned you might be interested in what we're offering."

Your skin crawls when Fervio takes your hand. His grip is too tight, too deliberate, and he holds on way longer than necessary as he brings your knuckles to his lips in this theatrical gesture that makes you want to g̶a̶g̶ grimace. Those yellow eyes never leave yours, gleaming with something that looks too much like hunger.

"A pleasure indeed," he practically purrs, and the way he says it makes you feel like you need a shower.

You force yourself to stay still, channeling every ounce of Seduction Division training into keeping your expression pleasant and engaged.

"The pleasure's mine. Your reputation precedes you."

Please, you think, let us get through this without anyone getting skinned alive.

Those creepy yellow contacts slide over to Jeon, and you watch Fervio size him up. "And who's the strong, silent type?"

"Her husband," Kaleido cuts in before either of you can speak, his smirk dripping with smug satisfaction. "Though he doesn't seem too keen on... friendly conversation."

Fervio's laugh is sharp and ugly, like broken glass scraping metal. "Oh, I get it. The big scary guard dog act, right? All growl, no real bite. What, they keep you on a leash, make sure no one gets too handsy with the missus?"

You feel Jeon's hurricane darken dangerously, but his voice stays deadly calm.

"Trust me, she doesn't need protection. She's perfectly capable of handling herself."

Your hand shoots out to grip his bicep—partly to stop him from doing something stupid, partly to ground yourself. When he glances at you, his tongue flicks out to play with his lip ring.

"I'm sure my husband"—and god, that word feels weird in your mouth—"would appreciate it if we skipped the implications and got down to business."

You can feel Jeon practically vibrating with tension under your grip, so you squeeze his arm just a bit harder.

Don't, you try to telegraph through the touch. He's testing us. Don't give him what he wants.

Fervio's eyes dart between you and Jeon, calculating and hungry, before settling back on you.

"Of course, my sincerest apologies," he says, in a tone that suggests he's about as sorry as a cat in a canary shop. "Let's discuss this fascinating deal of yours."

He sinks back into his chair with a loud thud, and you take the seat across from him whilst Jeon drops into the chair beside you. His presence is both comforting and terrifying—like having a loaded gun pressed against your back. Protection and danger all wrapped up in one p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ lethal package.

Fervio leans back, threading his fingers together like some b̶u̶l̶l̶s̶h̶i̶t̶ wannabe movie villain. The smile playing around his lips makes your skin crawl. It's the kind of smile that says he knows exactly how much power he holds in this room, and he can't wait to use it.

"So," Fervio drawls, and his voice makes your skin want to crawl right off your body. "Partnership's a delicate thing, isn't it? All about that... give and take."

You nod, studying his face like you're trying to read a book written in blood.

"That's right. We're always looking for deals that work out for everyone involved."

He leans forward, elbows on the table. "Everyone involved? Now that's interesting. I've always enjoyed... expanding my circle. Trying new things. Meeting new friends."

You force yourself to stay still. "Well, they do say variety keeps life interesting."

Jeon clears his throat, this tiny sound that somehow manages to carry a death threat.

Fervio's attention snaps to him like a rubber band, and fuck—those yellow eyes are practically glowing now.

"What about you, tough guy?" Fervio's words drip with mock sweetness. "You like getting your hands dirty, or do you just stand there looking pretty while the missus handles business?"

You feel Jeon's muscles coil under your touch. His jaw clenches so hard you can practically hear his teeth grinding.

"I do whatever needs doing," he says, voice cold enough to freeze hell. "And I never just stand there."

"Ooh, feisty," Fervio actually fucking giggles, and it's the most unsettling sound you've ever heard. "I like that in a man."

Your brain is going a mile a minute, mapping every possible way this could go sideways.

The clock on the wall reads 22:45.

Fifteen minutes.

Just fifteen fucking minutes until the power goes out and you can stop playing nice with this psycho.

You lean in, like you're actually interested in whatever sick shit he's suggesting.

"So what exactly did you have in mind for this partnership?"

Fervio's mouth opens, probably to say something horrifying, but you cut him off with a perfectly timed cough.

"Of course," you add quickly, matching his suggestive tone, "we'd need to explore all the possibilities first. Make sure everyone's needs are met."

"Oh, I like you," he purrs, and his smile is all teeth and zero warmth. "I have so many... creative ideas we could try. I've gotten quite good at finding that sweet spot between pleasure and screaming."

You feel Jeon tense beside you, practically vibrating with the need to put a bullet between Fervio's eyes. Your fingers dig into his arm, silently begging him to keep it together.

"We're always eager to learn new methods," you say, keeping your voice light. "As long as they get results."

His laugh sounds like gravel in a blender. "Trust me, sweetheart. My methods always get results. I've turned it into an art form."

22:50.

You maintain your flirty smile even though you want nothing more than to dump bleach on your brain to wash away this entire conversation.

Ten more minutes, you think. Just ten more minutes of not punching this creep in his stupid face.

You force yourself to lean forward, all casual interest like you're not sitting across from a literal psychopath.

"Maybe we should talk specifics first. You know—terms, guarantees, all that boring but necessary shit."

"Of course, of course." Fervio's smile promises pain. "Always good to handle business before... other matters."

He starts laying out some proposal, but you're only half listening. Your eyes keep darting to the clock while trying to look like they're not. Jeon's still beside you, watching Fervio like he's mentally cataloging all the ways he could end him.

22:55. Five more minutes of this psychological torture session.

You can practically feel AD's planned blackout humming in the air—or maybe that's just your nerves making shit up.

You keep nodding, throwing out questions designed to keep Fervio talking. The more he talks, the more he reveals just how fucked in the head he is. But you're careful—dancing on the edge of interest without actually promising anything.

"That's an... interesting approach," you say, watching his yellow eyes light up at your apparent engagement. "Very creative."

Kaleido shifts in his seat, and you catch this tiny frown crossing his face. Someone's starting to smell something fishy.

But then it happens.

23:00 hits, and everything goes black.

The darkness feels like a goddamn blessing after staring at those creepy yellow contacts.

You let out this little laugh, playing it cool. "Well, this is getting atmospheric."

"Indeed it is," Fervio practically purrs, and fuck—his voice has dropped into something that makes your skin want to crawl right off your body. "The darkness has a way of... bringing out our true natures."

You can feel Kaleido's tension from here. He's not buying this convenient timing, but Fervio's too caught up in his own twisted fantasy to notice.

"They do say the best deals happen in the dark," you drawl, channeling every ounce of Seduction Division training into your voice. "When you can't see the fine print."

Come on, you think. Just keep them distracted for a few more minutes.

The darkness is so thick you could probably drown in it, and somewhere in it, Fervio is getting way too excited about this whole situation. But you've got bigger problems than his murder boner—like making sure Kaleido doesn't put two and two together before you can complete the mission.

You feel Jeon slip away like a ghost, silent and deadly in the darkness.

Kaleido's head snaps toward the movement—fuck, he's sharp.

Time to do what you do best: be really fucking distracting.

Your hand finds Kaleido's arm, touch light enough to seem inviting rather than desperate.

"Hey now," you purr. "Don't get distracted. We were just getting to the fun part, weren't we? There's enough entertainment to keep everyone happy."

You hear Kaleido's breath hitch—gotcha. "Is that right?" His voice has that edge of interest that tells you he's taking the bait.

Hook, line, and s̶u̶c̶k̶e̶r̶ sinker.

But then Fervio's voice cuts through, a bit irritated. "Fun is an art form. It's not about how many players are in the game. It's about how thoroughly you can explore each possibility."

Something touches your hand—Fervio's fingers, cold and invasive. Every instinct screams at you to pull away, but you hold steady. Years of training kick in, and you force yourself to lean into the touch instead of breaking his fucking fingers.

"Couldn't agree more," you say, making your voice all honey and smoke. "Quality over quantity, right? Though sometimes..." You let the words hang there, suggestive. "A little variety can make things interesting."

Fervio's laugh makes your skin want to crawl right off your body and run for the hills.

"Let's keep our friend out of this particular equation," he says, and there's steel under that fake playfulness. "I prefer my entertainment more concentrated. Just us three."

You paint on a smile he can't see in the dark, grateful for small mercies.

"Whatever you say," you reply, like you're actually disappointed. "Your house, your rules."

The minutes drag by like years. Your heart's going so hard you're amazed they can't hear it, but you keep talking, keep flirting, keep Kaleido's suspicions buried under layers of innuendo and suggestion.

Every time Fervio opens his mouth, something more twisted comes out, but you dance around his sick fantasies like you're actually interested.

Come on, Jeon, you think. Hurry the fuck up.

You remind yourself that every creepy comment, every time Fervio's hand 'accidentally' brushes yours, every moment you have to pretend his psycho ass is fascinating—it's all getting you closer to bringing these bastards down.

This is what you trained for. This is what you're good at.

And when those lights come back on, you'll walk out of here without a scratch, leaving these fuckers none the wiser.

Because that's what you do. That's who you are.

You're not just some pretty distraction.

You're a goddamn professional.

This fucking hideout is a maze—that's all Jungkook can think as he tries to move through silently.

The mission weighs on his shoulders, made heavier by AD's voice crackling through his earpiece—sharp, cold, and deliberately sparse with information.

"Left. Next intersection."

His eyes scan the dim corridor, searching for any sign of the server room. Or worse—company.

The lack of proper directions makes his jaw clench. AD's being difficult on purpose, and they both know it.

A soft shuffle of footsteps echoes from around the corner. His body moves on instinct, melting into a shadowed alcove. The wall is cold against his back as some MDF grunt walks past, completely oblivious to the death that could have been waiting for them.

"Almost got made," he mutters into the comm, keeping his voice low. "Your directions are fucking useless."

The silence that follows is loaded.

"Oh no, what a tragedy that would be. What would we do without our perfect Captain America?"

The words hit exactly where AD means them to—right in that raw spot that never quite heals.

But Jungkook swallows it down, like he always does. Like he deserves to.

"Just focus on the fucking mission."

"Whatever you say." AD's voice drips acid. "Next right, straight down. Try not to die—the paperwork's a bitch, and I'd hate to waste my time processing your replacement."

His teeth grind together so hard his jaw aches. The guilt sits heavy in his chest, a constant companion these days. AD never lets him forget what happened with Sylvia, never misses a chance to twist the knife.

But that's fine. He deserves that too.

The mission is what matters. Everything else—the guilt, AD's hatred, the constant reminder of his failures—that's just background noise. He's gotten good at drowning it out.

Focus on the objective, he thinks. Nothing else matters.

(But god, some days the weight of it all feels like it might finally break him.)

"Thanks for the fucking concern," Jungkook mutters, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.

Not that he expects anything else from AD these days.

"Don't flatter yourself." AD's voice crackles with venom through the comm. "I'm here for the mission. You're just the unfortunate means to an end."

Each step feels heavier than the last, weighted down by years of AD's cultivated hatred.

But the mission is what matters.

That's what he keeps telling himself, anyway.

Has to keep telling himself.

The LED lights overhead cast these long, twisted shadows that remind him too much of things he'd rather forget.

Of Sylvia. Of choices he can't take back. Of the way everything went so spectacularly wrong.

"Left door," AD says, clipped and cold. "Try not to fuck this up too."

Jungkook's hand pauses over the doorknob, metal cool against his palm. He presses his ear to the door, listening for movement, for breath, for anything that might mean trouble. Nothing but silence answers back.

"You know," he breathes, slipping into the room like a ghost, "with how much you hate me, you'd think I killed her myself."

The laugh that comes through his earpiece is ugly. "Didn't you? Might as well have handed her the gun yourself."

He's right, of course. Jungkook deserves every bit of venom AD spits at him.

He simply exhales. Ignores the guilt that threatens to choke him.

"Moving on," he says quietly, both an update and a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"Yeah, better hurry," AD sneers. "Clock's ticking, and we both know how good you are at getting people killed when you're running out of time."

"Crystal fucking clear," Jungkook grits out, his jaw clenched so tight it hurts.

But pain is familiar territory these days. Almost comforting, in a twisted way.

"Door on your left, five meters." AD's voice is clinical now, professional.

Sometimes that's worse than the open hostility.

At least hatred is honest.

"Could you at least pretend not to want me dead?" Jungkook mutters.

"Maybe if you hadn't gotten Sylvia killed, I would."

It hits him like a bullet between the ribs, the name.

Sylvia.

It always comes back to her, doesn't it?

That night haunts every interaction with AD, turning what used to be friendship into this twisted thing full of barbs and old wounds.

"I know."

It's all he can say. All he's allowed to say, really. Some apologies are just fucking pointless.

The server room is exactly what he expected—all blinking lights and humming machines. Perfect place to hide a bug.

His hands move on autopilot while his mind keeps circling back to AD's words like picking at a scab.

"Focus, Jeon." AD's voice cuts through his thoughts. "Get the job done and get out."

Jungkook crouches down, finding a spot that'll give them good coverage. The familiar motions of planting surveillance gear almost feel like penance. Almost. His fingers work quickly, efficiently, working with the kind of precision his father drilled into him.

The comm line goes quiet. AD's probably stewing in his anger, replaying old memories like a fucked-up highlight reel.

Jungkook knows because he does the same thing.

"Bug's planted," he whispers, straightening up. "Moving out."

There's this pause—longer than usual. Like AD's wrestling with something.

When he finally speaks, his voice has lost some of its edge. "Watch your back."

It's not forgiveness. Not even close. But it's... something.

A tiny crack in the wall of hatred AD's built between them.

Maybe it's just muscle memory from their old friendship, or maybe AD's just too tired to maintain the rage.

Either way, it doesn't change anything.

Some mistakes can't be undone, some bridges stay burned.

And dead people always stay dead.

Jungkook heads back the way he came, knowing he needs to hurry. He can't afford any mistakes, not now—not ever again, really. Time's running out, and he can't afford to fuck this up too.

"Move your ass, Jeon. You got less than a minute."

AD's voice has faded to white noise in his ear, like a storm that's finally burned itself out.

But the urgency remains, thrumming under his skin like a fucking hornets' nest.

And his mind isn't helpful—keeps circling back to everything riding on this—the mission, the intel, the fact that you're still in that room with those psychos.

A drop of sweat slides down his temple, and he forces himself to focus.

No room for distractions. Not now.

He's almost at the final corner, freedom just fucking there, when he catches the low rumble of voices. His body reacts before his brain, pressing flat against the wall in a shadowed spot. His breath comes shallow and quiet as footsteps approach.

The seconds crawl by like years. Each heartbeat feels too loud, each breath a risk. The guards' voices drift closer, then past, then fade into nothing.

The moment the footsteps disappear, Jungkook moves.

Those last few meters might as well be a mile, but he covers them in seconds. The lights could come back any moment, and if he's not in that room when they do—

He slides into his seat beside you, forcing his breathing to stay steady even though his heart's trying to punch through his ribs.

The power surges back on immediately. The sudden brightness makes his eyes burn, but there's no time to adjust.

You turn toward him, probably to ask if he got it done, but the room's already buzzing with conversation again like nothing happened. Like he didn't just plant a bug that could bring this whole operation crashing down. Like there aren't two psychopaths sitting across from you both, one of them already suspicious.

His eyes meet yours for a split second. There's relief there, yeah, but also the weight of knowing this is just the beginning.

"Looking forward to our... partnership," Fervio then purrs, those creepy yellow contacts flicking between you and Jeon. "I'm veryinterested to see what you bring to the table."

You catch Jeon giving you this look from the corner of your eye—all confusion and barely concealed questions.

Of course he's lost, poor bastard missed the whole song and dance while he was playing spy. His dark eyes are practically screaming for some kind of explanation, any hint about what kind of mess he just walked back into.

You meet his gaze for a split second, trying to pack a whole conversation into one look.

Later, you try to telegraph. When we're not surrounded by psychos who want to wear our skin as party hats.

After a few more minutes, everyone starts getting up, chairs scraping against the floor.

Kaleido's already at the door, and you and Jeon fall in line behind him like good little lambs to the s̶l̶a̶u̶g̶h̶t̶e̶r̶ meeting.

The hallway feels weirdly normal after that pressure cooker of a room. Just the click of shoes on fancy floors and the distant mumble of voices that could almost make you forget you're in the heart of enemy territory.

Jeon slides into step beside you, and it's kind of impressive how he manages to look completely chill while also being wound tight enough to snap. His shoulders are relaxed but his eyes keep scanning everything, cataloging exits and threats like the walking weapon he is.

Your brain's working overtime, trying to figure out how to explain everything that went down while he was gone. How do you even begin to summarize that clusterfuck of a conversation?

'Hey, so while you were planting bugs, I had to flirt with two different flavors of psychopath to keep us alive. Fun times!'

He's counting on you to be his eyes and ears in there, to help him navigate whatever landmines you just agreed to. And fuck if you're going to let him down now.

God; you are in so far over your heads. But hey, at least you're drowning together.

The walk back through MDF's territory feels like it takes forever.

Kaleido leads you through this maze of hallways that all look the same—probably designed that way on purpose, the paranoid bastards.

You've got questions burning holes in your tongue, and you can tell from the way Jeon keeps glancing at you that he's got plenty of his own.

Finally, finally, you push through the exit doors and the night air hits your face like freedom.

Jeon practically deflates next to you, all that coiled tension leaving his body in one long exhale.

You get it. Being in there felt like having a knife pressed against your throat for hours.

It's weird how normal everything looks when you just spent the evening playing nice with actual monsters.

You reach up and pull out your earpiece, watching Jeon do the same.

No more voices in your head—just the ambient noise of Seoul at night and about a million questions that need answers.

The bike's waiting right where you left it, looking like the most beautiful thing you've ever seen because it means you can get the fuck out of here.

Jeon moves toward it, probably ready to bolt, but something's been nagging at you since those comms went live.

"Who's Sylvia?"

The words slip out before you can stop them.

It's probably not the best timing, but if Seduction has taught you anything is that information is power.

And right now you feel pretty fucking powerless.

You watch Jeon's shoulders lock up again, his whole body going still like you just pulled a gun on him instead of asking a simple question.

Fuck. He forgot about the comms.

In the rush to get back before the lights came on, Jungkook completely forgot the line was still open.

That you heard everything—including that name.

Sylvia.

The word sits like poison in his mind, dragging up memories he's spent years trying to bury.

His heart slams against his ribs, and it has nothing to do with almost getting caught back there.

Your question hangs in the air between you, and suddenly he can't breathe right. Can't think straight.

Because you weren't supposed to know about this. About her.

He turns to look at you, trying to read your expression in the dim light. Trying to figure out how much you heard, how much you understood.

But your face gives nothing away—you've gotten too good at that. The Seduction Division taught you well.

His features lock down on instinct, years of practice kicking in like muscle memory.

It's easier this way. Safer. Put up the walls, shut everything down, become the cold, untouchable Chief everyone expects him to be.

"Nobody you should be concerned about." His voice comes out flat, empty. The kind of tone that usually makes people back off real quick.

He watches something flicker across your face—curiosity maybe, or concern. But you don't push. Don't demand answers.

You just say "Alright" in this careful, neutral way that somehow makes everything worse.

Because you're giving him space he doesn't deserve.

Understanding he hasn't earned.

Jungkook turns back to the bike, jamming the key in with more force than necessary.

The engine roars to life, and he focuses on that sound instead of the chaos in his head. Instead of the weight of all these secrets pressing down on his chest.

You climb on behind him, and the warmth of your body against his back feels wrong.

Too close. Too real.

Too much like something he can't afford to want.

"Let's get out of here," he says, keeping his voice empty.

The city starts to blur as he accelerates, but his mind stays stuck on that name. On memories he can't outrun.

Distance, he reminds himself. Distance is survival.

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ts19009 · 1 month ago

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A Recipe for Us I Part 2 | KMG

pairing: kim mingyu x reader/oc genre: angst, fluff, smut, coworkers-to-lovers, mean!oc, soft!niceguy!gyu, chef's(oui oui) warnings: explicit unprotected sex, sexual innuendos, oral sex (female receiving), etc. words: 13,901 part 1: HERE!!!

Mingyu Do you wanna come over and taste a new dish I’ve been experimenting on?

Y/N Sure! Although if this is an elaborate way of killing me to get my job … XD Mingyu Please, I’m to lazy to commit murder 😛

She chuckled softly to herself, her finger hovering over the phone screen.

For the first time in a while, she felt a flutter of excitement—a soft warmth curling in her chest at the thought of seeing him, of being near him. The idea of just spending time with him without the usual tension that surrounded their work environment was... nice.

Y/N set her phone down and leaned back against the couch, exhaling a shaky breath. There was something different now. Lately, she found herself thinking about him more than usual. Not just in passing, but in moments when she was doing something entirely unrelated, a memory of a smile or a shared laugh would pop into her mind and her heart would skip a beat.

She thought about how easy it was to talk to him, how she could laugh freely with him, and how he seemed to know exactly when she needed space and when she needed someone to lean on. The way his eyes softened when he looked at her, how his presence seemed to calm her in a way no one else’s ever had.

Y/N paused, her hand gripping the edge of the couch, her breath catching.

Oh.

She was falling for him.

The realization made her stomach flip—an odd mix of excitement and fear. Was she ready for this? Was this just another passing crush, or was it something deeper? She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought, but it lingered.

It was hard to ignore it now. Every time he smiled at her, her heart raced. Every time their hands brushed, there was this electric current that made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t expected.

But now, with Mingyu’s invitation hanging in the air, the uncertainty of it all hit her full force. She couldn’t hide from it anymore—this thing she was feeling.

Sighing, she grabbed her jacket and stood up. No matter how nervous or unsure she was, she couldn’t deny that a part of her wanted to be with him. Wanted to see where this would go.

The evening air was cool as Y/N zipped up her jacket, taking one last look at her phone before slipping it into her pocket. She could feel the flutter of anticipation building in her chest as she walked through the quiet streets. Her steps were quick but deliberate, the sound of her shoes echoing against the sidewalk.

With every step, the thought of Mingyu occupied her mind more and more. What was it about him that made her feel this way? Why did she suddenly care so much about what he thought, about being near him?

She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they only grew louder. Was this how it felt to have a crush, to be falling for someone?

Before she knew it, she found herself standing in front of his apartment building. The soft glow of the streetlights illuminated the entrance, and she took a deep breath before walking inside. She hesitated at the door for a moment, then rang the bell.

Moments later, Mingyu appeared, a warm smile spreading across his face when he saw her. "Hey, welcome! I'm glad you came," he said, stepping aside to let her in.

Y/N smiled back, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said, stepping inside. The scent of something savory immediately hit her senses, making her stomach rumble.

"Nah, just getting started," Mingyu replied, leading her into the kitchen. It was a cozy space, neatly organized with various ingredients spread across the counter. "I’ve been experimenting with a new recipe—garlic butter shrimp with a side of risotto. You’re in for a treat."

Y/N’s mouth watered at the mention of the dish. "Sounds amazing," she said, leaning against the counter as she watched him move around the kitchen, his hands expertly chopping vegetables and stirring the pan. There was something incredibly soothing about watching him work, the way he moved with such confidence and ease.

"You know," Mingyu said, glancing over his shoulder at her, "I was actually a little nervous about cooking for you. I mean, you’ve been around a lot of good food, and I didn’t want to mess this up."

Y/N chuckled, leaning in slightly as she watched him. "Well, I’m sure it’ll be great. I’m sure you know what you’re doing."

Mingyu smiled, his eyes lighting up with that familiar warmth. "Thanks. It’s nice to hear that from someone who actually knows food."

She felt her heart skip a beat at the way his eyes lingered on her, and she quickly turned her attention to the stove, avoiding his gaze for a moment. She could feel the warmth of his presence, the air between them thickening with an unspoken tension.

"You’re gonna have to tell me what you think once it’s done," Mingyu continued, grabbing a bottle of white wine from the counter. He poured two glasses, one of which he handed to her. "But first, how’s your day been?"

Y/N took the glass, her fingers brushing against his as she did. "It’s been good. Busy, but nothing too crazy. How about you?"

"Same," Mingyu said, taking a sip of his own wine before getting back to the food. "I’ve been thinking about this all day, to be honest. I wanted it to be perfect for you."

The sincerity in his voice made Y/N’s heart skip again. She smiled softly, setting her wine down on the counter. "I’m sure it’ll be perfect," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Mingyu glanced at her again, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smile. "Well, I’m glad you’re here. It feels good, you know? Cooking for someone I actually care about."

Y/N froze for a second, her breath catching in her throat. The air between them seemed to shift, and for a split second, it felt like the world was just the two of them—alone in the kitchen, surrounded by the soft hum of the city outside.

But before she could say anything, Mingyu turned his attention back to the stove, and the moment passed, though Y/N could still feel the weight of his words hanging in the air.

As Y/N watched him, a small smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t help but appreciate the way Mingyu moved in the kitchen—confident, fluid, as though cooking was second nature to him. The way his brow furrowed in concentration as he finely chopped the shallots, the rhythm of his hands when he stirred the risotto, the way his lips curled into a soft smile every time he glanced over at her. Everything about him seemed to draw her in, in a way she hadn't expected.

Her eyes wandered over the small details—the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, the way his sleeves were pushed up just enough to show the muscles of his forearms as he worked. His focus was entirely on the dish, yet there was an easy comfort between them now. She had never thought she'd be in someone else's kitchen like this, let alone with someone she could feel so at ease around.

And that’s when it hit her—this wasn’t just about food. It wasn’t just about a shared meal or a simple date. It was the way her heart seemed to beat a little faster when he caught her looking at him, the way her thoughts kept circling back to him, even when she wasn’t with him. She was starting to care about him in a way she hadn’t realized before.

Y/N's gaze softened as she rested her hands on the edge of the counter, letting the quiet moments fill the space between them. She was falling for him. Slowly, but surely. It wasn’t a loud realization or a dramatic shift. It was subtle—a gradual unfolding that felt natural, like the comfort she found in the kitchen with him. It had always been there, maybe even before she knew it, but now she could no longer ignore the truth.

She leaned back against the counter and watched as he finished preparing the dish. “You really are amazing at this,” she said softly, almost to herself.

Mingyu glanced up at her, his lips curving into a smile, his eyes soft. “I told you, cooking is the easy part,” he replied with a wink. But Y/N could see the pride in his eyes, the way he lit up when she complimented his work.

And in that moment, as the fragrance of the risotto and shrimp filled the air, she realized that it wasn’t just the food that was drawing her in. It was him.

“Do you mind setting the table?” He asked, nodding towards the drawer with the plates and knives.

“Not at all!” She smiled, moving towards the drawer he’d pointed to. As she pulled it open, she noticed how neat everything was—plates stacked perfectly, knives and forks arranged with careful precision. It was simple, but there was a thoughtfulness to it, much like everything else he did.

She carefully set the plates on the table, the sound of the ceramic clinking softly in the otherwise quiet room. As she arranged the utensils, her mind wandered back to the moment they had just shared in the kitchen.

Mingyu’s presence, the way he moved with such confidence and grace, was intoxicating in its own way. There was something about being here with him, in his space, watching him do what he loved. It felt like they were in a bubble—everything outside seemed far away.

When she turned to check if the table was set just right, Mingyu was already bringing over the dishes. He smiled as he placed the risotto and shrimp in front of her, the steam rising from the plates, making her stomach growl in anticipation.

“You’re too kind,” Y/N said, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

Mingyu shrugged casually, his smile never faltering. “It’s the least I could do for my favorite guest.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the way he said that. Favorite guest. She didn’t know why those words seemed to settle in her chest, but they did. They made everything feel more intimate, more meaningful.

“I’ll take it,” she said with a teasing smile.

They both settled into their seats, the comfort between them growing even more as the conversation flowed naturally. As they dug into the meal, Y/N felt herself relaxing, more at ease with every passing moment. It wasn’t just the food that was satisfying—it was the feeling of being here with him, of sharing this space and time together.

And for the first time in a while, she felt like she could let go of the things she kept so tightly guarded, the things she wasn’t sure she was ready to admit. But for now, she would just enjoy the moment, knowing that there was something here that couldn’t be ignored.

The room felt warmer as the silence stretched between them, a quiet, electric tension building with every glance. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how close Mingyu was, how his presence seemed to fill the space in ways she hadn’t expected. His eyes, warm and steady, never left hers, and for the first time, she felt as though he was seeing right through her—past all the walls she had carefully constructed around herself.

She tried to look away, but it was impossible. His gaze was magnetic, pulling her in, making her heart skip a beat each time their eyes met. The way he was watching her made her feel vulnerable, yet strangely safe, as if he was the only person who truly understood her.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat, suddenly aware of how close they were, the soft hum of the kitchen lights amplifying the silence between them. She took a small sip of her wine to break the stillness, but her hand trembled slightly, betraying her calm facade.

Mingyu, too, seemed to be caught in the moment, his fork pausing mid-air as he watched her with an intensity that made her feel exposed in the best way possible. His lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smile, the corners of his mouth turning up in a way that made Y/N’s breath catch.

“Are you sure you like it?” he asked, his voice lower than before, as though every word was deliberately chosen. His tone, almost playful, didn’t mask the deeper layers of meaning that seemed to lie beneath it.

Y/N cleared her throat, suddenly unsure of how to respond, but she nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice quiet, yet sincere. “It’s... perfect.”

His gaze softened at her words, but his eyes never wavered. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, and Y/N felt the distance between them shrinking with each passing second.

As the minutes ticked by, they both continued to steal glances at each other, each look laden with something neither of them wanted to acknowledge just yet. Y/N’s mind raced, her thoughts tangled with the overwhelming realization that something was shifting between them, something that neither of them could fully understand or control.

Mingyu finally broke the eye contact, his attention shifting back to his plate, but there was no mistaking the lingering heat in his gaze. He cleared his throat, as if to steady himself, but the unspoken words still hung in the air, waiting to be said.

Y/N’s fingers brushed against the edge of her wine glass, her heart still racing from the exchange, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to say anything. The moment was perfect in its quiet intensity, and somehow, she didn’t want to disturb it. Instead, she took a deep breath and leaned back slightly, feeling the weight of the silence settle around them, knowing that the tension was only growing stronger with each passing moment.

Mingyu stood up from the table, his gaze shifting to Y/N with a soft smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. The last of their plates were cleared away, the remnants of their meal now just a memory between them. He extended one hand toward her, the gesture simple yet filled with meaning.

"Come on," he said, his voice low and inviting. "Let's go to the living room."

Y/N looked up, slightly taken aback by the warmth in his eyes. She hesitated for a moment, the feeling in her chest shifting, but she found herself unable to resist the quiet pull between them. Slowly, she placed her hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers.

Mingyu's fingers curled gently around hers as he guided her toward the living room, the softest brush of his touch sending a flutter through her chest. His hand was firm yet tender, leading her with an ease that made her feel as though they’d been in this exact moment before, like they belonged here, together.

As they reached the living room, Mingyu turned to her with a reassuring smile, the atmosphere around them suddenly feeling more intimate, more personal. He gently tugged her forward, letting go of her hand for just a moment to adjust the cushions on the couch. Then, with a simple, effortless motion, he gestured for her to sit beside him, his body language warm and open.

"You can make yourself comfortable," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper, as if he didn’t want to disrupt the calm that had settled between them. His hand, still lingering close to hers, rested gently on the back of the couch, the subtle invitation hanging in the air.

Y/N glanced at him for a moment, caught in the quiet tension of the moment. Her breath caught as their eyes met again, and without thinking, she moved closer, sitting beside him, her knee brushing against his. There was no rush, no pressure, just the shared space between them, quiet and unspoken.

And as she settled in, Mingyu’s hand found hers again, their fingers intertwining in the softest, most natural way. Neither of them spoke, but the silence felt comfortable, like the promise of something more.

“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, Y/N,” Mingyu said softly, his voice warm and genuine. His gaze never left hers as he gently brought their hands up, holding them delicately in his grasp. With a tender smile, he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand, his lips lingering for just a moment, a quiet gesture of affection.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed pink, warmth spreading across her skin. She tilted her head slightly, attempting to hide the soft blush, but the smile that tugged at her lips betrayed her. Still, she squeezed his hand in return, offering him a reassuring gesture that she, too, was enjoying the moment.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice quieter than usual, the words coming from a place of sincerity. "I’m sorry I was so... bitchy when we first met." She looked up at him, the vulnerability in her words almost surprising her. "It’s not the best tactic for making new friends."

Mingyu’s smile softened even further, his eyes full of understanding and warmth. “Hey, we all have our moments,” he said, brushing his thumb gently over the back of her hand. “I’m just glad we got past it. Honestly, I think you’re one of the most real people I’ve met.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, and she felt a small weight lift off her chest. It was one thing to hear a compliment, but to hear such genuine kindness from him... it meant more than she expected. With a slight, playful grin, she met his eyes once again.

"Maybe you’ve just been lucky," she teased lightly, her voice carrying a touch of playfulness that was now natural between them.

Mingyu chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he leaned in just a little closer. “I don’t think so,” he said, voice low and soft. “I think I’m just starting to realize how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her chest, her heart suddenly racing as she looked into Mingyu’s eyes. The way his gaze held hers—gentle, sincere—felt like an unspoken promise, a depth that she hadn't quite expected. She could feel her pulse quicken, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade into the background.

His eyes were so open, so vulnerable, and yet so full of affection. It made her feel seen, truly seen, in a way she hadn't in a long time. She shifted slightly, the air around them thick with a new, unspoken tension, her words stuck in her throat.

"Why do you always make me feel like this?" Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability slipping into her tone despite her best efforts to hold it in.

Mingyu's lips curled up at the edges in a quiet, comforting smile. "Because it's how you deserve to feel," he said, his voice tender. "You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for, Y/N."

Her chest tightened at his words, and for the first time, she felt like she could let her guard down, even just a little. Still, she turned her face away slightly, as if trying to hide the warmth rushing to her cheeks.

"You really are something else," she murmured, almost to herself. She could feel the shift in the air between them, the subtle pull that neither of them seemed to want to ignore.

The room felt still, the air thick with the quiet hum of their shared breaths. Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from Mingyu, even though her heart was thudding wildly in her chest. It felt like they were standing on the edge of something—something unspoken, yet undeniable.

Mingyu’s gaze was gentle, his eyes full of warmth and affection, and there was a softness in the way he held her hand, his thumb brushing against her skin in a comforting rhythm. Y/N didn’t know when the distance between them had closed, but now, it felt as if there was no space left, only the tender connection that seemed to pulse between them with every shared glance.

“I… really like being with you like this,” Mingyu said quietly, his voice low, his words tender. “It’s easy, you know?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered. She hadn’t expected him to say that, but it made everything feel more real, more present. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yeah, it is,” she whispered back, her voice softer than usual, the vulnerability slipping through her words. "I do, too."

The air between them seemed to grow heavier, as if everything in the world had narrowed down to this one moment. Y/N was aware of how close they were now, the warmth of Mingyu’s body near hers, the subtle way his fingers traced the back of her hand. It was like she could feel every beat of his heart in the stillness of the room.

And then, without thinking, she took a step closer, her hand shifting in his until their palms were pressed flush together. She couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to be closer.

Mingyu’s eyes softened, his gaze flicking down to where their hands were joined, then back to her face. His breath caught slightly, but his fingers didn’t pull away. He seemed to be waiting for something, and Y/N couldn’t tell if he was waiting for her to say something or to move, but neither of them spoke.

Y/N’s pulse quickened, her hands trembling just a bit as she took another small step toward him. She felt the heat radiating off him, and it made her heart race even faster. Was she imagining this? Was he feeling the same pull?

Mingyu’s voice broke the silence, barely a whisper. “Y/N…”

She looked up, meeting his gaze, and in that moment, it was like everything else around them faded away. There were no more words, no more doubts. Just the magnetic pull between them.

Mingyu’s eyes flickered to her lips and back to her eyes, asking a silent question that only she could answer. His hand, still holding hers, squeezed gently, almost as if to reassure her.

Slowly, as though giving her time to pull away, he leaned in, his breath soft against her face. The space between them closed by mere inches, and the anticipation became a tangible thing, thick in the air.

Y/N felt her body lean in instinctively, her own breath shallow, her heart hammering even louder now. She tilted her head slightly, drawn to him like a magnet, and her gaze dropped to his lips before returning to his eyes.

It was in that moment, when she felt the heat of his proximity, when she realized she was no longer afraid of what might come next, that she knew. She knew she wanted this. She wanted him.

“Can I…” Mingyu started, his voice barely above a whisper, but he didn’t finish the sentence. There was no need. He was already moving closer, the question lingering in the air. And Y/N, breathless, nodded—her silent agreement in the form of a slight tilt of her head.

Without another word, their lips met. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as though they were both testing the waters. But it didn’t take long for the pressure to build, the sweet, slow burn of something deeper, something more profound than either of them had expected. His lips were soft, his touch gentle, but there was an intensity there that she hadn’t anticipated.

Y/N’s hand, which had been resting at her side, moved up to touch his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. Mingyu’s hand slid to her back, pulling her closer, and for a brief moment, she felt weightless, like time itself had paused for them.

But even then, the kiss never rushed. It was full of hesitation and longing, each movement delicate, as though they both knew they were crossing into something new, something neither of them was quite ready to name yet, but both of them wanted just the same.

When they finally pulled away, the distance between them felt even smaller than before. Y/N’s breath was quick, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with his, and she found herself smiling—half shy, half dazed.

Mingyu smiled back, his hand still resting on her back, not letting go of her just yet. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of sincerity.

Y/N could only smile in return, her heart still racing. “Me too,” she whispered, her fingers still tracing the edge of his shirt, as though grounding herself back in reality before pressing her lips back to his.

After work, it became a habit for both Y/N and Mingyu to head to his place for a late-night meal followed by stolen kisses. During breaks, they shared hidden moments—quick glances, secret hand-holding, and the occasional kiss—but in the kitchen, they did their best to keep things professional. The tension between them simmered just beneath the surface, adding an unspoken layer to their already complicated dynamic, but things hadn’t escalated past that… yet.

Today was Mingyu’s birthday—he was turning twenty-seven—and Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it. She had been planning for this day quietly in the background, wanting to make it special for him. The plan was simple—distract him while the others worked behind the scenes, and then, after everything was set, they’d go back to his place for a late-night meal, just the two of them.

As the night wrapped up, the kitchen buzzed with the familiar sounds of cleaning. Joshua, Jeonghan, and Chan quietly slipped out, leaving Y/N and Mingyu to finish tidying up their stations.

Mingyu glanced over at Y/N as he wiped down the counter, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Why am I cleaning up Jeonghan’s station on my birthday?” he chuckled, giving her a look of mock exasperation.

Y/N shook her head, a teasing smile on her lips. “Maybe Jeonghan just wants you to enjoy your special day. I’m happy to help,” she said, brushing past him to collect the stray dishes.

Mingyu leaned against the counter, watching her with an amused gaze. “Well, I can’t say no to that. But, you know, I had this grand idea for my birthday… and now I’m just stuck in the kitchen cleaning.” His voice dropped an octave, and there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “I thought maybe I’d get a little more attention from you tonight.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze. She smiled softly, not trusting herself to say much in return. “You know I’m always here to help, Mingyu.”

His grin softened, and he took a step closer, his hand brushing against hers as he reached for a dish. The simple touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t help but glance up at him through her lashes.

“I know,” he said, voice low, “but maybe I need more than just help from you tonight.”

Before she could say anything else, Mingyu cupped her cheek gently with his hand, his touch sending a spark through her. He stepped closer, his body heat making her pulse quicken. Without another word, he pressed her back against the counter, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative—like they were both testing the waters.

Y/N’s breath caught, her heart racing as she found herself leaning into the kiss. His lips were warm, his hand steady against her cheek as he deepened the kiss, a subtle urgency in his movements. It felt as though everything around them had faded away—no kitchen, no mess to clean, just the two of them lost in the moment.

She slid her arms around his neck instinctively, pulling him closer, feeling the intensity between them rise. His hand slid down to her waist, his touch sending a shiver through her spine, making her feel something she hadn’t quite been ready for—but wanted all the same.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling in the small space between them. Mingyu’s eyes were dark with something more than desire, and Y/N couldn’t look away.

“Happy birthday, Mingyu,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

His lips curved into a smile, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “Best birthday gift I could’ve asked for,” he replied softly, the weight of his words lingering in the air, “but I’d like to be done cleaning up so we can get out of here.”

Y/N chuckled softly, her breath still slightly shaky from the kiss. She nodded, gently pushing at his chest to create just enough space between them to regain some composure. “Alright, alright, let’s finish up then,” she said with a teasing smile, trying to hide the heat creeping up her neck.

Mingyu grinned, his hands reluctantly moving away from her to grab a rag from the counter. As they worked side by side, the tension between them hadn't quite dissipated, but now it was laced with a new understanding—one that made everything feel different, like the air was charged with something neither of them could ignore.

The soft clink of dishes and the rustling of utensils seemed louder in the quiet space between them. Every so often, their eyes would meet, a silent exchange that spoke volumes. It wasn’t just about the cleanup anymore; it was about what had just shifted between them, a connection deepened by a kiss that neither of them had expected but both welcomed.

When they finally finished, Mingyu turned to her with a raised eyebrow, his smile returning. “You sure you’re ready to leave now?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the anticipation of the night ahead. “I think I am.”

"Alright!" Mingyu said, a bright grin on his face as he reached for her hand. Their fingers intertwined effortlessly, and they stepped out into the crisp New York City streets. The cold air was a welcome contrast to the warmth that still lingered between them. Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they walked side by side, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the quiet night.

Y/N and Mingyu walked side by side down the quiet New York City streets, the crisp night air carrying the promise of something new. They’d spent the evening in each other’s company, the lighthearted conversations and shared smiles weaving a thread between them that felt undeniably strong. Mingyu, still holding her hand, couldn't help but feel the excitement bubble up inside him. There was something about this night that felt different—like it was just the beginning of something bigger.

As they reached the door to Mingyu’s apartment, Y/N stopped and turned to him with a playful grin, her eyes twinkling in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Happy birthday, Mingyu,” she said softly, her voice low but filled with affection. Her heart was racing, but she did her best to mask it with a calm demeanor.

Mingyu paused, about to reply, but before he could even process her words, the door swung open with a sudden burst of noise and color.

“Surprise!!”

The entire apartment was alive with energy, the walls adorned with bright, colorful decorations, balloons floating against the ceiling, and a banner that read, Happy Birthday Mingyu! The soft glow of candles flickered on the table, casting a warm light over the gathered crowd of friends and coworkers. Joshua, Jeonghan, Chan, and several others all stood together, grinning widely as they greeted him.

Mingyu froze in place, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Wait… you guys did all this?” he asked, unable to believe the sight in front of him. His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the room, the familiar faces of his coworkers and friends smiling back at him.

Y/N stood just inside the door, her eyes filled with warmth and a hint of mischief. She stepped forward, her smile a soft curve on her lips. “I did,” she said, her voice steady yet full of affection. “Happy birthday, Mingyu.”

Mingyu’s gaze softened as he looked at her, still processing the surprise. He had no idea that this was coming, and the fact that Y/N had orchestrated it all made his heart swell. His words caught in his throat, and for a moment, he just stared at her, trying to find the right way to express his gratitude. “I… I don’t know what to say,” he finally managed. “I didn’t expect this at all. You… you really went all out.”

Y/N chuckled softly, stepping closer. “I wanted to make sure you felt special today. You deserve it.”

Mingyu’s eyes searched hers for a long moment, the affection between them palpable in the quiet space that stretched between them. Without another word, he reached out and pulled her into a tight, heartfelt hug. The warmth of the embrace felt like the world slowing down around them, as if everything was in perfect alignment.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he repeated softly, his voice muffled against her hair. “This is honestly the best birthday gift.”

Y/N rested her head on his chest, her arms around his waist, her heart racing in the stillness of the moment. “I’m glad you like it,” she whispered, feeling his arms tighten around her. It felt right. She could feel how much this meant to him, and it made her heart swell with pride and happiness.

As they pulled apart, Mingyu’s gaze softened. “Thank you,” he murmured. “You’ve made this day unforgettable.”

Y/N smiled warmly, feeling a sense of fulfillment at the joy in his eyes. “I’m just getting started,” she teased gently before making her way into his apartment, leaving Mingyu standing at the door, speechless. The sound of her footsteps echoed lightly in the hallway, and he remained frozen for a moment, taking in the scene before him. His heart was racing, and the world around him felt like it had shifted into something new and exciting.

As he finally stepped inside, the laughter and chatter of friends filled the air, but Mingyu couldn’t tear his gaze away from Y/N. The way she moved, the smile on her face—it all felt surreal. It was more than just a surprise party—it was the way she had planned everything, put so much effort into making him feel special. And it made him realize how much she meant to him, how much this night meant.

Before Mingyu could make his way to anyone, a red solo cup was thrust into his hand by Wonwoo. Mingyu glanced down at the cup, a little confused, before taking a sip. The sharp, bitter taste of tequila immediately hit his tongue, making him cringe.

“What the hell? Is this just straight tequila?” Mingyu asked, his voice incredulous as he looked up at Wonwoo, still reeling from the shock.

Wonwoo gave a small shrug, clearly entertained. “Tequila, and maybe half a shot glass of cherry liqueur,” he replied nonchalantly.

Mingyu shook his head, inspecting the cup as if it had personally wronged him. “It’s disgusting,” he muttered under his breath, his face scrunching up in disgust as he took another reluctant sip.

Wonwoo chuckled, taking a sip from his own drink. “You’re the one who wanted to try it, though.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it was going to taste like punishment.” Mingyu said with a dramatic sigh, trying to shake off the aftertaste.

Y/N, who had been nearby, laughed softly at the exchange. “I think it’s a rite of passage at Mingyu’s birthday party,” she teased, raising an eyebrow as she made her way over to him.

Mingyu shot her a playful look, still holding the offending drink. “A rite of passage? I don’t know, this feels more like a punishment.”

“Well, maybe you just need to find your sweet spot,” Y/N suggested with a smirk, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

“I’m starting to think my sweet spot is away from whatever this is,” Mingyu grumbled, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips as he handed the drink back to Wonwoo.

As the night went on, the party buzzed with laughter, music, and conversation. Mingyu stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by friends who were eager to give him their birthday presents.

Jeonghan was the first to approach, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in his hands. “Here,” he said, grinning, “I’m sure you’ll put this to good use.”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, tearing off the wrapping paper with excitement. Inside, he found a sleek, high-quality chef’s knife—one that glinted in the light. “Wow, this is amazing! You know me too well,” Mingyu said, his smile widening as he admired the gift.

Jeonghan shrugged casually. “I’ve seen you eyeing one for a while, so I thought it was about time.”

Mingyu laughed, grateful for the thoughtful gift. “Thanks, Jeonghan. I’ll definitely put this to good use.”

Next up was Chan, who bounced over to him holding a small bag with a cheeky smile. “I may not know much about cooking, but I know a good bottle of wine when I see one!” He handed Mingyu a bottle of red wine, its label elegant and promising of a rich flavor.

Mingyu grinned, accepting the gift with a nod. “This is perfect, Chan. You’ve definitely got my tastes down,” he said, holding the bottle up to admire it.

Joshua was next, walking up with a wide grin and handing Mingyu an envelope. “It’s not much, but I thought it would be something you could use,” he said. Mingyu opened it to reveal a gift card for a high-end butcher shop. “You’ve been talking about wanting to experiment with different cuts of meat, so this should help.”

Mingyu’s eyes lit up at the gift. “Joshua, you’re a genius. This is exactly what I need. Thanks, man.”

Then, Wonwoo, always with a mysterious air about him, handed Mingyu a small, neatly wrapped box. Inside, Mingyu found a cookbook by one of his favorite chefs, one he hadn’t been able to find anywhere. His smile stretched from ear to ear as he flipped through the pages. “Wonwoo, this is perfect,” Mingyu said, clearly touched by the thoughtful gesture.

The group laughed and chatted as Mingyu continued to thank his friends for their presents, but the anticipation of the last gift lingered in the air. Y/N stood near the back, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. She waited until Mingyu had opened the last gift, and then made her way over to him, holding something wrapped in soft paper, her hands a little shaky from both excitement and nerves.

“Here,” Y/N said softly, extending the present to Mingyu. “I—uh—hope you like it.”

Mingyu looked up at her, his gaze soft and warm as he took the gift from her. “Y/N, you didn’t have to…” he started, but his voice trailed off as he carefully unwrapped it, his curiosity piqued. When he opened the paper, he was met with a beautifully crafted leather-bound journal, its edges slightly worn, giving it character. The cover was simple but elegant, with intricate details that seemed to have been hand-etched.

Mingyu’s expression softened as he ran his fingers over the cover. He looked up at Y/N, speechless for a moment. “Y/N… this is…” He struggled to find the words, but his eyes said it all. “I can’t believe you thought of this.”

Y/N smiled, her heart pounding in her chest. “I know you’ve been wanting to write more of your recipes down, keep track of your experiments and ideas. I thought this could be a place for all of that. A way to keep your thoughts in one place.”

Mingyu stepped closer to her, his eyes filled with appreciation. “Thank you. This means more to me than I can say. I’ll definitely put this to good use.” He paused for a moment, looking at the journal, before meeting her gaze again. “I feel like this is the best gift of all.”

The room seemed to fade away as they shared a quiet moment, Mingyu’s gaze lingering on her with warmth, and Y/N’s heart swelling with something more than just affection. For a split second, everything felt still, as if time itself had decided to hold its breath. Mingyu’s smile was all the answer she needed.

The laughter and music in the room returned as the others continued talking, but the connection between them was undeniable, both of them silently agreeing that this moment—this exchange—was more than just a gift. It was a sign of something deeper, something they were only beginning to explore.

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed freely, and the atmosphere became even more relaxed. Mingyu found himself enjoying the playful teasing that seemed to naturally surface with each sip. Y/N wasn’t immune to the effects of alcohol either, and soon enough, both of them were feeling a little lighter, a little bolder.

Mingyu leaned in slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he watched Y/N take another sip of her drink. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite like this,” he teased, his voice lower than usual, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You’re usually so… composed.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her own smirk forming as she leaned against the back of the couch. “Is that so?” she replied, her voice teasing and light, the alcohol adding a spark to her words. “Maybe I’m just warming up to you, Chef.”

“Oh, is that what it is?” Mingyu chuckled, leaning closer to her, their faces just inches apart. “Because I thought you were just trying to get me drunk so I’d cook for you more often.”

Y/N laughed, her lips curling in a flirtatious smile. “Well, maybe I am trying to get you drunk,” she said, her voice playful but with an underlying edge. “But I’m also enjoying the company.” She glanced at him, her eyes soft but playful. “And maybe I’ll get a little more daring with my choices, too.”

Mingyu’s heart skipped at the way she said that, his smile widening. He took a step closer, just enough so they were almost touching. “Daring, huh?” He let his gaze linger on her lips for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “I think you’re already pretty daring. You’ve been giving me those looks all night.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed slightly, but her grin only grew. She took another sip, the alcohol dulling her usual reservations. “Maybe it’s the tequila,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Or maybe I just like to see how far I can push you.”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, you’re pushing me, alright. Just be careful, or I might not be able to stop myself,” he replied, his voice teasing but carrying an undercurrent of something more serious.

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly at his words, her heart beating a little faster. She leaned in just a fraction closer, her lips curving into a playful, flirtatious smile. “Is that a promise, Chef?”

Mingyu’s smile softened, but there was a shift in his gaze, his eyes darkening just a bit as he let the words hang in the air. He chuckled softly, but there was a hint of heat in his tone. “It’s more of a warning, actually.”

Y/N's pulse quickened, the air between them thick with the tension they had been building all night. “Well, maybe I like the idea of being warned,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, her voice low and teasing.

Mingyu’s grin grew wider, and before he could reply, he leaned in a little closer, just enough to close the distance between them. His breath mingled with hers, and the subtle flirtation hung heavy in the air, both of them feeling the pull of something more.

“Careful,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of her ear before pulling back slightly, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re walking a dangerous line.”

Y/N’s smile only grew, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I like danger.”

Mingyu couldn’t help but chuckle at her boldness, but there was no denying the attraction that simmered between them, heightened by the alcohol and their flirtatious banter. The night was still young, and though they were both a little tipsy, it was clear that the evening was only just beginning.

As they continued their playful back-and-forth, the heat between them intensified, and the world outside their little bubble seemed to fade away.

Just as Mingyu leaned in, his breath mingling with hers, and the air between them crackled with anticipation, the sound of the front door creaked open behind them. Joshua and Jeonghan, the last two guests besides Y/N, made their way toward the door, their voices carrying over the music.

“Well, it looks like it's time for us to head out,” Joshua said with a wink, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

Jeonghan followed suit, giving Mingyu a nod. “Happy birthday again, man. We’ll catch you later.”

Mingyu groaned, rolling his eyes as he leaned back slightly, the mood abruptly interrupted. “Of course you guys would choose now to leave,” he muttered, glancing over at Y/N, who couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the timing.

“Well, duty calls,” Joshua said with a grin, clearly enjoying the teasing. “You two have a good night, okay? Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

Y/N’s smile widened, her eyes shifting back to Mingyu as she bit her lip, trying to keep the moment light. “I’m sure we’ll be just fine,” she replied, her voice teasing.

Jeonghan gave them both a knowing look, a playful smirk dancing across his lips. “Yeah, don’t stay up too late,” he added, winking before heading out the door.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Mingyu exhaled, a bit of the heat from earlier fading, though the tension between him and Y/N was still palpable. He turned back toward her, his hands hovering at his sides before he slowly reached for her, a grin playing on his lips.

“Guess we’re alone now,” he said softly, the teasing tone still present but tinged with something more sincere. He stepped closer, the space between them narrowing once again.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her smile never faltering. “Guess so.”

The air between them shifted again, the playful banter fading into a quiet intensity, each waiting for the other to make the next move. Mingyu could feel the pull toward her, the desire to finally close the gap between them. The moment was ripe, and neither of them seemed willing to let it slip away this time.

Slowly, but with purpose, Mingyu cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek, before leaning in once again. This time, there would be no interruptions. The kiss was inevitable.

Y/N sighed into the kiss, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer, her body pressing more fully against his. She felt the heat of him radiate through their clothes, the world outside their little bubble fading away. Her heart beat in time with his, and the intoxicating mix of their shared breath made everything else feel distant.

Mingyu, unable to resist any longer, gently guided her back, his lips never leaving hers as he slowly eased her down onto the couch. His body followed hers, hovering just above hers, the weight of him both comforting and electrifying at once. He rested his forearms on either side of her, careful not to crush her, but still bringing them closer, feeling her heartbeat pulse beneath his hands.

For a moment, they just breathed together, the kiss softening as they both took in the closeness, savoring the intimacy without rushing. Mingyu’s thumb grazed along her cheek, his lips slowly trailing down her jaw, tasting her skin as if it was something he couldn't get enough of. Y/N’s chest rose and fell with each breath, her eyes fluttering closed as she let herself get lost in the feeling of being so close to him.

"Are you sure about this?" Mingyu asked softly, his voice low and steady, his lips brushing against her skin as he spoke. The question hung between them, a moment of vulnerability in the heat of their connection.

Y/N’s hands slid up to his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath her touch. She smiled softly, tilting her head to meet his gaze. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn’t," she murmured, her voice tinged with both certainty and affection.

Mingyu’s lips curled into a smile against her skin, the hesitation he’d felt moments ago melting away. His hands moved to gently cradle her face, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “I don’t want to mess this up,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying a vulnerability that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

Y/N met his eyes with a look full of warmth, her hand sliding into his hair again. “You won’t,” she whispered, her voice confident. “We’re just... us. No pressure.”

Mingyu smiled, a mixture of relief and affection in his eyes, and without another word, he kissed her again, deeper this time, pouring all of his feelings into the embrace. He moved his hand that wasn’t holding him up, to wrap her leg around his waist and then up to cup her ass. She had changed from her work uniform into a cute red dress when they both got back, so as she raised her leg to wrap around his waist, her dress hiked up to reveal her red lace underwear.

Mingyu groaned as he felt the lace, and slowly started kissing down Y/N’s face and neck, leaving small marks. Y/N gasped and moved her hands from around his neck to into his hair. Gently pulling when he would suck a little bit harder at her neck.

Mingyu slowly pulled away and looked down at the dress she was wearing before pulling one of the dress straps down, “you look beautiful in this dress,” he said as moving to press a kiss down to her chest before pulling the rest of her dress down to right below her belly button.

Y/N gasped as the cold air hit her skin as he moved his free hand up to cup her right breast. Y/N sighed into his mouth as she moved her hands from his hair to start unbuttoning his button up shirt.

“Take your shirt off,” she sighed unbuttoning his last button as Mingyu sat up a bit, detaching himself from her to shrug off his shirt. As he sat back they both took a second to look at each other.

Y/N with her swollen lips, smudged lipstick, and hair sprayed out underneath her.

Mingyu with his golden skin, lipstick stained lips, and out of place hair from Y/N pulling on it.

He smiled before gently pulling on the bottom of her dress. Y/N lifted her hips off the bed as he pulled the dress completely off her, leaving her just in her lace underwear. After throwing her dress off to the other side of the living room, he leaned back in and started pressing kisses to her chest, and started licking her nipple while his other hand went to squeeze her other breast.

“Your chest is so pretty,” he said against her skin, switching between breasts and swirling his tongue around her nipple when he was there.

“I could say the same thing about yours,” she said, running one of her hands down his chest while the other was pulling on his hair again. “That feels good,” she sighed.

“Yeah?” Mingyu smirked against her and started squeezing her nipple, wanting to try and make her come before even reaching her core, “you feel good baby.”

Y/N moaned at the pet name and used the hand that was in his hair to push his head further into her chest, causing Mingyu to laugh and suck harder on her. He could feel her heart beating faster, and feel her hips start to cant against his.

“Are you going to come baby?” He asked, as she nodded and threw her head back a feeling the coil inside her stomach tighten extra tight before Mingyu switched his mouth to the other breast one last time and sucked harder as she felt the coil snap and felt the wave of pleasure wash over her.

Mingyu smiled and slowly pulled away from her chest, watching it rise and fall, watching her try and catch her breath, before pressing a kiss to her lips. “Do you want to keep going?”

Y/N smiled and nodded, “I wouldn’t be naked on your couch, if I didn’t want it to keep going,” she teased.

With one smooth motion, he stood, scooping her up effortlessly into his arms, holding her bridal style. A surprised squeal escaped her lips, and she couldn’t help but laugh as she wrapped her arms around his neck, suddenly feeling weightless in his embrace. He took a few steps, carrying her toward the bedroom with ease, and a sense of warmth spread through her, both from the closeness and the spark between them.

As they reached the bedroom door, Mingyu nudged it open with his foot, gently setting her down on the bed. He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. The light wasn’t too bright, but it was soft enough for them to see each other’s smiles.

“I really like you,” Mingyu smiled, his voice full of warmth. “If I haven’t told you that yet.”

Y/N smiled back, her heart racing as she laid back on the bed, with him hovering above her. “I really like you too.”

He quickly unbuttoned his pants and pushed them off his legs before coming back down to kiss her again. He had leaned himself to the side so he could cup her jaw and lift her leg to his hip once again. He parted her legs enough to drag one of his hands down to in between her thighs and pushed her panties to the side, slipping two of his fingers into her.

Y/N moaned, as her hand that wasn’t in his har going to grab onto his bicep to try and ground her as he used his thumb to rub against her clit.

Mingyu smiled as he slowly pulled away from her mouth and started kissing his way back down her body. He kept his two fingers in her, but removed his thumb and replaced it with his mouth.

“You taste so good baby,” he also moaned, licking his lips trying to collect all the essence from her previous orgasm and impending current one. He reaches up and moves her legs over his shoulders as his other hand trails up to grasp her breast as he goes back to licking around her clit.

“I’m gonna cum Gyu,” she say, feeling the coil in her stomach tighten again as he lets go of her breast to hold her hand.

“Let go baby,” he said. It was all she needed to reach her high and tightened her grasp on his hair as her orgrasm washes over her again. Mingyu’s tongue drops down to her core as he pulls his fingers out to collect all her essence and try to slowly bring her down from her high.

“Fuck,” he groaned, licking his lips and slowly pulling away from her core. “That was hot.”

She just nodded, still out of breath from her orgasm to speak as Mingyu gently moved her legs from around his shoulders and took her underwear completely off and put them in his bedside drawer and grab a condom.

He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N, eyes closed, chest still going up and down before looking over to him, “what?” She asked.

“You just look gorgeous, all sweaty like this,” he smiled and went to lay on top of her again.

“Wait,” she said, placing a hand on his chest to stop him, “can I be on top?”

Mingyu looked at her with his mouth open, before nodding and sitting against the headboard as Y/N sat up and threw her legs over his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You've been so nice taking care of me tonight and over these last few months,” she smirked, wiggling her hips. “Now it's my turn to take care of you.”

Mingyu groaned, threw his head back, and set his hands on her hips.

She scooted herself down a bit so she could pull his boxers down and let him kick them off before grabbing his member and sitting on top of his lap. She gave him a few strokes before sinking down to his length.

Mingyu groaned, everything had happened so fast. As he opened his eyes and was faced with her pretty chest, game over. He groaned and set his hands on her ass helping her slowly move back and forth to try and help others adjust to his size. He moaned as she started to slowly bounce up and down as he sat up and started pressing kisses and sucking on her chest.

“You feel so good baby,” he moaned, feeling her core clench around his cock. It had been so long since the last time he was with someone, that he knew that he wouldn’t last long if she kept doing that. “Don’t do that,” he sighed, “I won’t last long.”

“That’s the whole point,” she chuckled, grabbing one of his hands that was still on her ass to down between her thighs, she knew that he was close and she wanted to come with him.

“Shit,” he gasped as he slowly rubbed circles over her clit as both of their orgasms washed over them. Mingyu had thrown his head back, trying to catch his breath, while Y/N gently moved off of him and laid down next to him, also trying to catch her breath.

After almost a minute of silence he looked over to her and smiled, bringing his hand up to move some hair that was stuck to her face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, propping himself up on one arm to lean over her and grab the box of tissues on the bedside table to help clean her up a bit. She smiled as he gently opened her legs and started wiping the cum that was dripping down her legs as she reached over to take a sip from the water bottle that was on the table.

After he was done and had thrown out the tissues, he also took a sip from the water bottle, before delicately laid his head against her bare chest, listening to her heart beat.

“What are you doing?” She smiled, running a hand through his damp hair.

“Just make sure you’re real,” he smiled, “and that I’m not dreaming.”

She didn’t say anything else and just kept slowly running her fingers through her hair until she could hear his slow, steady breaths, indicating that he had fallen asleep leaving her with her own thoughts.

Although, having Mingyu with her wasn’t as terrifying as she had originally thought.

“Hey,” Wonwoo smirked, as Mingyu tried to quietly close his door to not wake her up. “I didn’t know if I’d see you at all today.”

Mingyu winced, forgetting that poor Wonwoo had probably heard them last night. “I’m sorry man, I never even,” but before he could finish Wonwoo was already smiling.

“Don’t worry about it, it was your birthday and I know how in love with her you are. Just maybe don’t make a habit out of it.” Mingyu scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes before nodding in agreement.

“Thanks.”

Wonwoo chuckled, before grabbing his water bottle he was filling and making his way back to his room, leaving MIngyu alone to make some breakfast for the both of them .He didn’t want to make anything fancy, so instead opted for some french toast and bacon with sliced apples.

He had managed to make both his and her plates without a single sound from her, so he was surprised to see her up and scrolling on her phone when he came back with both of the plates in hand. “Good morning!” he said, grinning as he walked in.

Y/N looked up, her hair messy and eyes still heavy with sleep, but she smiled at the sight of him. “Morning,” she murmured, setting her phone aside. “You cooked?”

“I did,” he said proudly, holding up the plates like trophies. “I didn’t burn anything either, which feels like a win this early in the morning.”

She chuckled, reaching out as he handed her a plate. “Wow, breakfast in bed? You're really trying to make sure I never leave.”

He sat down beside her, bumping her shoulder gently. “Is it working?”

“Maybe,” she teased, shooting him a playful glance before digging into the food. After a few bites, she looked at him again. “This is really good, by the way. You didn’t have to go all out.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, watching her with a fondness that made her stomach flutter more than the eggs ever could.

They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments, legs brushing beneath the covers, sunlight streaming faintly through the curtains.

“Last night felt like a dream,” she whispered eventually, almost as if she were afraid saying it out loud would make it vanish.

Mingyu looked at her softly, setting his fork down and leaning in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “If it was, then I hope I never wake up.”

She laughed, blushing again, then leaned her head onto his shoulder, her voice quieter now. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

“At what?”

“Making me feel like I matter.”

He paused, touched by her honesty, and squeezed her hand under the blanket. “That’s easy,” he murmured. “Because you do.”

Y/N just smiled slowly and leaned over the food to kiss him, her lips brushing his softly. “Was Wonwoo here last night?” she asked, settling back against the pillows with her plate in her lap. “I could hear you guys talking.”

Mingyu chuckled, taking a sip from the mug he’d brought for himself. “Yeah, but he said that since it was my birthday, he’d let it slide.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming as she balanced her plate. “Well, I’d like your roommate to actually like me, so I guess that means we won’t be doing that here anymore.”

Mingyu nearly choked on his coffee, eyes widening before he laughed. “Guess we’ll just have to get creative.”

She gave him a mock glare, shaking her head with a grin. “You’re impossible.”

“But you like me,” he shot back, leaning in just enough to make her heart stutter again.

“Unfortunately,” she murmured with a teasing sigh, before nudging his leg under the covers.

“So… are you guys, like, okay to still work together?” Jeonghan asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched Y/N and Mingyu stroll into the kitchen, fingers intertwined.

Y/N and Mingyu shared a quick glance before Mingyu shrugged, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know,” Jeonghan said, holding up his hands. “I’ve seen couples crash and burn over less than a dinner rush.”

“We’ve survived worse,” Y/N replied coolly, squeezing Mingyu’s hand before slipping away to her station. “And besides, we’re both professionals.”

Mingyu chuckled and followed after her. “Speak for yourself. I still can’t look at the risotto station without having flashbacks.”

“Traumatic or romantic?” Jeonghan called after them.

“Bit of both,” Mingyu chuckled, as Y/N hit him across the shoulder with a rag.

“Okay, but if anything goes wrong, I vote we kick Mingyu out,” Jeonghan declared with a mischievous grin.

“What? Jeonghan!” Mingyu groaned, turning to face him with mock betrayal.

“I second that!” Joshua chimed in from across the kitchen, barely hiding his laughter.

Mingyu narrowed his eyes, grabbing a carrot slice from the cutting board and lobbing it in their direction. “You guys are so supportive.”

Jeonghan dodged it with a dramatic gasp. “Violence in the workplace? That’s grounds for a write-up!”

Joshua just chuckled, “Yeah, right after HR hears about the risotto flirting.”

Y/N tried to hide her smile as she prepped ingredients, but Mingyu caught it. “Oh, so you’re all against me now?”

Y/N glanced over with a teasing smirk. “I’m Switzerland.”

“Coward,” Mingyu mumbled playfully, shaking his head as everyone burst into laughter again.

“Stop moving,” Mingyu moaned, pinning Y/N’s hips against her couch, latching his mouth onto her clit again.

True to her word, they had gone to Y/N’s place for tonight’s activities. She wasn’t going to risk accidentally running into Wonwoo after their second night together in a row.

Y/N threw her head back and tried to move her hands to touch him, but Mingyu was sneaky and had brought a pair of handcuffs to work with him. He had surprised her after dinner which had led to her naked on the couch, with her man in between her legs.

She felt Mingyu’s other hand rub her hip softly before sliding two of his fingers into her, curling them.

“Mingyu!”

“Yeah baby?”

“Can I at least move my arms?” She asked, as Mingyu chuckled against her core.

“Nope, keep them above your head until I’m done,” he reminded her as she half moaned, half groaned at the movement of his fingers and at the annoyance of being held in place.

Y/N slowly moved her hips with his hand and soon enough, she could feel her orgasm creeping up on her. Mingyu smiled and sped up his fingers, letting her orgasm, and listening to her try and catch her breath.

“You okay baby?” He asked, pressing a kiss to her lips before moving to undo the handcuffs.

She hummed and let her hands fall around his neck once they were finally free from the cuffs. “Can I ask you a question?” She asked, still slightly out of breath, but enough to look into his eyes.

“Of course,” he softly answered.

“Do you think I’m a good chef?” She asked, as Mingyu’s eyes widened, surprised at the deep question, wondering where it had come from.

“Of course I think you’re a good chef baby. I think you’re one of the best chef’s I know.” She smiled, but his answer didn’t necessarily make her feel better, “Why do you ask?”

She sighed, trying to figure out how to articulate her words, “because I feel like I’ve always had to prove myself. In school, with my friends, I mean even at work. I’m the only woman, and I’ve always been a little bit more…. Difficult to get along with and it’s made life hard. People tend to see me as cold hearted and then they undercut my work.”

Mingyu nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to her palm, hoping that it conveyed that he was listening.

“I guess it’s just nice to hear that I’m good at something from someone that I care about,” she said, as they both smiled. Mingyu nodded and leaned up on one of his elbows to slightly lean over her again.

“I think you’re an amazing chef,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead, “an amazing leader,” another kiss to her cheek, “an caring and attentive friend,” a kiss to her neck, “and I’m very lucky to know you baby,” he finally said, gently rolling her onto her back. Y/N sighed, against his touch, and hauled herself up onto her knees and elbows and moved her hair so he could kiss along her neck.

“I really think you’re extraordinary and I want to reward you for it,” he sighed as he held her hips and carefully slid into her, moaning at the thrust of his own hips.

“I also think you’re a caring and loyal person who may be a bit of a simp,” she tried to joke, but before she could laugh, he thrusted a little bit harder, “but I guess it worked in my favour.”

That made Mingyu chuckle, but he didn’t waste an opportunity to keep drilling into her.

“Keep telling me things you like about me baby,” he smirked,” and I’ll let you come.”

“I also really admire your passion for cooking and your ambition to get better,” she sighed, pushing her hips back, “I like how gentle you are with me, and I like how you don’t just write people off. You like to give them a chance and try to see them for who they really are!”

Mingyu smiled, and leaned over her and tilted her head to the side to look her in the eyes as they both came, and pressed a kiss to her neck again as they both came undone together. Mingyu groaned into her ear before leaning a bit more of his weight onto her, but not crushing her.

“Are you okay?” Y/N chuckled, watching him catch his breath as she brushed a few strands of hair from his face. Mingyu nodded, doing the same.

“Are you guys like official now?” Wonwoo asked, watching Mingyu dump all his bag into his room before taking a seat beside him on the couch.

“I don’t know,” Mingyu sighed, “I want to be more, that’s for sure, but I mean we’ve only been like this for a couple of days. I think I’m just gonna wait a bit longer.”

Wonwoo winced, knowing that his best friend was good at procrastinating and overthinking and that he probably wouldn’t ask her if he wasn’t pushed to, “I mean it’s obvious that she likes you as well. You don’t want to wait to long.”

Mingyu shrugged, “I guess. I just don’t want to make things awkward if she doesn’t want to make it official yet.”

“Yes, but girls think more than guys do and she’s probably wondering what you’re feeling. I’m sure being honest with her will help.”

“When did you become so knowledgeable with girls?” Mingyu chuckled, looking over to Wonwoo who was still laying sideways on the couch.

“By watching you mess up so many potential relationships,” Wonwoo smiled.

“What about Jisoo?” Mingyu asked, referring to Wonwoo’s sister.

“I’m sure that helped, but man. Watching someone else fuck up really helps you learn.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes and threw himself back onto the couch. It was true. Even though he was pretty focused during school, he had his fair share of summer flings and wasn’t afraid to flirt around at the bar.

The worst one was when Mingyu had brought a girl he had been taking out for almost a month to accept a drink that a woman had sent him at the bar to watching the fight happen and then the inevitable ‘breakup’.

“All I’m saying is, if you really like her as much as you say you do, you should act before it’s too late,” Wonwoo said, his eyes flicking back to the TV. “I have a feeling she won’t wait around as long as you think.”

Mingyu stayed silent, Wonwoo’s words echoing in his mind.

He leaned back into the couch, staring blankly at the TV but not really seeing it. His chest tightened slightly at the thought, the idea of losing Y/N before they even had the chance to figure out what they could be.

It scared him more than he wanted to admit.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the familiar tug of frustration and uncertainty. Was he moving too slow? Had he been too cautious, assuming they had all the time in the world?

A part of him had wanted to savor this — the way she smiled at him when she thought no one was looking, the little brushes of her hand against his, the quiet comfort of her presence.

But maybe savoring wasn’t enough anymore.

Maybe it was time to choose her — loudly, clearly, without hesitation.

"Those are gorgeous!" Yuna gasped, pointing at the bouquets scattered across Y/N’s kitchen counters. Vibrant colors and fresh scents filled the small space, making it feel like a florist’s shop. It was the second day in a row that Mingyu had sent flowers—each bouquet different, each more beautiful than the last.

"Are they from Mingyu?" Yuna asked, grinning knowingly. Y/N nodded, trying to hide the way her cheeks warmed, biting her lip in a failed attempt to fight the growing smile.

"Wow," Yuna laughed, leaning against the counter, "and he's still sending you flowers after you slept with him?" "Yuna!" Y/N gasped, swatting her friend on the arm. "What?" Yuna said, hands raised innocently. "I'm just saying — most guys pull the romantic stuff to get the girl, not after. It's kind of rare... in a good way. Means he's still trying to impress you."

Y/N shook her head, smiling down at the bouquet closest to her. "Yeah... he's definitely different."

“Are you gonna keep seeing him?” Yuna asked, taking a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed, watching as she went around the room, trying to finish getting ready so she could go to work.

“I think so,” Y/N shrugged, “I mean I like being around him. So, as long as he doesn’t get bored.”

“Babe, he’s a six foot two, muscle man that begged to eat you out. I don’t think he’ll get bored,” Yuna stared without blinking.

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything else, not wanting to be analyzed at nine in the morning. “What about you? How was your date with Jay?”

“Hey! Don’t change the topic!” Yuna exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Y/N, who was slipping on her shoes, clearly ready to make an escape. “We’re not done here!”

Y/N grabbed her bag and gave Yuna a mischievous smile. “We are for now. I’ve got a shift to catch.”

“That’s not fair!” Yuna groaned dramatically, flopping back on the couch like she’d been personally wronged. “You always dodge emotional conversations like it’s a sport.”

Y/N shrugged as she opened the door. “I just prefer to keep some mystery.”

Yuna smirked, raising a brow. “Tell that to the guy who’s been sending you daily flower arrangements like he’s in a K-drama.”

“Goodbye, Yuna,” Y/N said over her shoulder, her smile lingering even as the door clicked shut behind her.

Y/N was rushing around the pantry, a handful of lemons and limes in hand and her mind only half-focused. She was headed toward the kitchen when the sound of familiar voices drifted out through the slightly ajar door. She paused.

“…Still in the honeymoon phase, or are things starting to lose their spark?” Jeonghan’s voice rang out in that usual playful tone of his.

Y/N stopped mid-step. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but Mingyu’s laugh followed right after, low and tired.

“You know how these things go,” he said.

Her chest tightened.

Jeonghan let out a mock gasp. “Already? Man, and here I thought you were a changed man.”

Mingyu gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, well… sometimes it’s hard to keep up the effort when everything else feels like a lot.”

Y/N stood frozen in place, her fingers curling slightly around the produce in her hand.

You know how these things go.

It’s hard to keep up the effort.

She turned without thinking and walked back the way she came, the pounding in her chest louder than her footsteps. The rational part of her told her it was just a conversation between friends, probably something stupid Jeonghan had started. But Mingyu hadn’t defended them. He hadn’t said her name. He hadn’t sounded like someone who was sure of what they had.

She gave her head a small shake, trying to chase away the spiral of thoughts and refocus on work, but it was no use. His words kept echoing in her mind, dulling everything else around her. When she finally stepped into the kitchen, Mingyu and Jeonghan greeted her with casual waves. She didn’t return the gesture—didn’t even look their way. Instead, she moved wordlessly to the counter, setting down the produce and beginning her prep for the night, her silence louder than any response.

Mingyu’s smile faltered the moment she passed by without so much as a glance. His brows furrowed slightly, head tilting in quiet confusion as he watched her move stiffly around the station. Something was off. Y/N was never overly bubbly, but this… this was cold. Distant. He exchanged a quick glance with Jeonghan, who shrugged before going back to his own prep, while Mingyu kept watching, a knot of worry beginning to form in his chest.

The rest of the night was more of the same, Mingyu making small attempts to talk to her, to catch her eye, to coax even the smallest smile, and Y/N responding with little more than curt nods or polite indifference. It wasn’t like her. Not with him.

Had he done something wrong?

He ran through the past day in his head over and over. Since the last time he saw her, all he’d really done was head home and catch up with Jeonghan—mostly venting about how he was managing the extra dishes after Minghao changed positions. That was it. Nothing that should’ve upset her.

He even replayed the night they spent together, searching for something he might’ve said or done to make her pull away. But everything about that night had felt easy-warm, even. She’d sent him a good morning text today, complete with a heart. Things had felt good. Solid.

So why did she feel so far away now?

“Y/N?” Mingyu asked softly, stepping closer to her station. He watched her move with mechanical focus, fluttering around her prep like he wasn’t even there.

“Y/N,” he said again, firmer this time, hoping she’d at least glance at him.

“What, Mingyu?” she snapped, barely looking up.

His brows knit together. “Why are you ignoring me?”

She let out a sharp sigh and rolled her eyes. “It’s the middle of prep on a Saturday night. I’m busy.”

He blinked, taken aback by her tone. “Since when do you talk to me like that?” he asked, voice quiet but pointed.

She said nothing, her hands moving with practiced precision, as if the task in front of her demanded every ounce of focus, when in truth, it was just easier than looking at him.

“Y/N, please,” Mingyu said again, softer this time, like he was afraid to push too hard.

She froze for half a second, then exhaled sharply. “Yeah, well, it’s just hard to keep up the effort,” she snapped, finally looking up, her eyes sharp and tired.

Mingyu stood there, stunned, wide-eyed. The words hit him harder than he expected.

Shit.

She must have overheard what he and Jeonghan had been joking about earlier. The offhand comments about picking up more shifts. About things being “too much.”

He opened his mouth to explain, but before a single word could leave his lips, Y/N had already picked up her cutting board and moved her prep station to the far end of the kitchen, putting distance between them like it was armor.

He wanted to explain the misunderstanding to her, but understood that it should probably wait until after work. He just sighed and ran a hand down his sweaty face before returning to his station.

He would have to talk to her after.

Today was one of those rare nights Y/N was relieved to be off early. The entire shift had felt heavy—like the air around Mingyu had grown thicker, harder to breathe. So when she clocked out just after midnight, the last thing she expected was to hear her name being called behind her.

“Y/N!” Mingyu’s voice cut through the quiet, his footsteps quickening as he jogged after her.

She let out a tired sigh, not stopping. “Not now, Mingyu,” she said, raising a hand to keep him at arm’s length. But instead of backing off, he gently caught her hand on his own.

“Please,” he said, his voice softer now. He stepped in close, their breath fogging in the cold night air. “What you overheard earlier, keeping up the effort’, it wasn’t about you. It wasn’t about us.”

Y/N blinked, the anger in her eyes faltering slightly as he laced their fingers together and brought their joined hands to his chest.

“It was about work,” he continued, his voice steady but earnest. “I’ve been taking on the new dishes since Minghao switched positions. I was talking to Jeonghan about how it’s been kicking my ass—not about you. Never about you.”

She stared at him for a moment, her expression flickering between surprise and guarded skepticism. Mingyu smiled gently, trying to ease the tension that had been sitting between them all day.

“I thought something changed,” she admitted quietly. “You were distant... and I thought I messed something up.”

His hand tightened just slightly around hers.

“No,” he whispered. “You’re the only thing keeping me grounded right now.”

Y/N sighed, the tension in her shoulders finally beginning to melt. A wave of relief crashed over her, quickly followed by embarrassment as the weight of her own assumptions settled in. She covered her face with her hands, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice muffled behind her palms. “I really thought you meant…”

“I know,” Mingyu said gently, tugging her hands away so he could see her face. “It sounded bad. I should’ve been more careful.”

She looked up at him, her eyes soft and apologetic. “I just… I’ve never had something that felt this good before. And I think I panicked when it started to feel too real.”

Mingyu's thumb brushed over the back of her hand. “Then let’s be real together. We don’t have to figure it all out at once. But I don’t want you doubting how I feel about you.”

Her lip quirked into a small, sheepish smile. “You really like me, huh?”

He grinned. “Kind of obsessed, actually.”

She laughed, the sound easing the last of the tension between them.

“Walk me home?” she asked.

“Only if you let me hold your hand the whole way.”

A/N: Well guys! that's it for the main story of a recipe for us! I'm gonna upload an epilogue for sure with some more smut in the future, but I think that this is a good spot to end this story for now! We will defiantly see more of this grumpy x sunshine combo in the future!

Thanks for being patient and I hope you enjoy it <3

TS19009

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