#return to seoul review

[libratalks]

Reviewing films: "Return to Seoul" (2022) dir. Davy Chou

Letterboxd: @librafang. 3/5 ✩

Okay. I really wanted to like this film. There were moments throughout where I kept thinking: "oh okay... I'm actually into this!" or when I felt deeply moved, such as the scene where Yeon-Hee is in the car watching her friend speak to her biological father in Korean but she can't join in and actually have a conversation with her own father because of the language barrier. There are so many moments throughout this film where Ji-Min Park elevates the entire scene by just her acting alone (especially seeing as she had to act aggressively with just her facial expressions) and the dance montage has a sweet spot in my heart for how well she displayed her emotions through the movement of her body and expression, but there were so many moments where this film lacked clarity or direction. Perhaps that is the goal, for the entire narrative lies in the fact that she is directionless; she has been chasing something her entire life subconsciously and only realises once she visits Hammond Adoption Centre, only to be met with disappointment and the resurfacing of years of trauma.

It is a meticulously-planned and complex storyline that I adore, but I believe my expectations for the film ended up being detrimental to my conclusion for it. I believe I expected a film where the main character would've accepted her South Korean heritage with open arms, where she displayed a desire to know more of the culture and instead, found peace and drive within the embracing of her culture and the friends she came across... (I also wish we saw more of the turmoil we experience when she's rejected by her only friend in South Korea) and yet... nothing. So many plot holes, so many storylines left flat, hated the fact that there were so many year jumps, hated the arms-selling storyline; it entirely lacked consistency. A lot of the scenes needed to be explained, like the scene where her biological father rushes her into a cab and abruptly leaves... It's even addressed as abnormal by Yeon-Hee and yet, it's never delved into? The scene where she finally meets her biological mother is endearing and perfectly acted out because the dimensions we witness in Park's acting is heartbreaking. The different levels and stages of her finally embracing the fact that this is happening and allowing herself to feel everything she's feeling only makes it so much easier for the spectator to empathise with her. But that empathy is abruptly interrupted due to another time jump, succeeding in failing to convey the intensity of that first meeting.

The ending scene with her playing the piano lands a little flat too, though I do believe it was the right way to end the film; we witness her partying to crazy techno music and fading away into the numbness of a night-life throughout the film, so to have her return after so many years by sitting in the middle of an empty inn and playing a melancholic tune after finding out her biological mother is nowhere to be reached is a perfect anecdote for intensifying the nature of doom attached to Yeon-Hee. I personally didn't love it, but I also think that's because it's just not the film for me. The one thing that's great about it though is that I haven't been able to stop thinking about it... Precisely what a good film does.

[married-2-the-music]

Onew Deep Dive: SHINee’s Hidden Gem

Onew is one of the five members of 2nd generation group SHINee, along with Key, Taemin, Minho, and the late Jonghyun, and debuted with them in 2008 before debuting as a soloist ten years later with Blue. 

Here are my credentials: If you’ve ever read my blog before, you’ll know I’m a huge ShaWol (SHINee fan), and so I’m slowly making my way through their solo discographies before eventually tackling their huge discography as a group. I’ve done Taemin, Jonghyun, Key, and now Onew, but Onew’s actually the one I know the least well, so I’m excited to get to know more! (Also shoutout to @fallsouthwinter, who knows his work like the back of their hand).

[goawaywithjae]

Adoption is a recurring theme in Korean dramas, often used as an emotional plot device that has little to do with reality. It usually goes something like this: fictional transracial adoptees who grew up overseas return to South Korea for whatever reason the storylines dictate. These K-dramas all share a common trait: despite having been raised overseas in countries where Korean isn't the dominant language, these adoptees return to their birth country miraculously speaking fluent Korean and fitting right into Korean culture. It's almost as if they had never left their motherland.

In the superb "Return to Seoul" – which is Cambodia's Oscar entry for the Best International Film category – French Cambodian filmmaker Davy Chou ("Golden Slumbers") takes a deeper look at what it means for one adoptee.

[rickchung]

Return to Seoul (dir. Davy Chou) x TIFF 2022.

Starring newcomer Park Ji-min in her film debut as Freddie (short for Frédérique), a French adoptee born in South Korea searching for her birth parents, the ambitious low-budget film encapsulates what it feels like to bridge two separate worlds of conflicting identities. There's so much stark yet sophisticated humour about Korean culture, drunken masculinity, and expat life not totally unlike Lost in Translation but from an Asian point-of-view.

[bob-the-movie-man-film-reviews]

Return to Seoul (12): Reading from the sheet music of life.

#onemannsmovies review of "Return to Seoul" (2023). #ReturnToSeoul. Intelligent script defines a lost girl in freefall. 3.5/5.

A One Mann’s Movies review of “Return to Seoul” (2023). Original title: Retour à Séoul I often comment how subtitled films tend to send a large proportion of cinema-goers stampeding for the exit. “Return to Seoul” will likely send them over the edge, since it is a vibrant mix of subtitled French, subtitled Korean and some spoken English! It’s a difficult film to categorise, and for me to rate.…

[rookie-critic]

Return to Seoul (2022, dir. Davy Chou) - review by Rookie-Critic

I was pretty excited for this one. I'd heard nothing but good things about it and the story seemed like a playground for great ideas; Freddie, a young woman who was born in Korea, but adopted as a baby and raised in France, comes back to Korea in search of her birth parents, mainly her mother. While there were a lot of things about the film that I really liked, there's one kind of glaring thing about it that I just couldn't shake: I didn't like Freddie at all.

I struggle with unlikable protagonists in films, it's probably the personal bias that I struggle the most with being objective about. That's not to say that I hate every story with an unlikable protagonist at its center, there are character studies that have absolute scumbags at their center (like Sean Baker's Red Rocket) that I really enjoyed. I'll probably never watch Red Rocket again, because it made me feel gross, but it was an objectively good movie for a lot of different reasons. I think therein lies my problem, Freddie is a selfish, mean character, which is sometimes needed in the moment, but more often than not she's just being cruel to people who don't deserve it. So much so that the one person she isn't awful to during the film leaves Freddie because she sees how horrible Freddie is being to everyone else. I empathize with Freddie's situation, but I absolutely cannot connect with her as a person, and that makes a lot of the film tough to sit through. After awhile it almost becomes an endurance test of waiting for the shoe to drop and for her to be terrible yet again.

Where I think the film works is in its depiction of someone on a journey to fill a void in their life. Freddie's goal, although not specifically stated by her or the film, is to find her parents, because that is the thing she thinks will make her happy, will make her whole. That's the thing that will fill this gap she has in her life that's preventing her from being truly happy. Anytime something gets in the way of this goal or things don't turn out how she wants, she turns to self destructive behavior, because that instant relief is easier than dealing with the pain of that void, or at least that was my interpretation. All of this is great and a high point of the film. Director Davy Chou even has these wonderful moments where the camera holds on Freddie for awhile, and in those moments you really get a sense of her, and those were the moments in the film that I came the closest to understanding her. However, even with these moments, it doesn't seem like there's ever any remorse for the people she's hurt, no growth from beyond that self destructive behavior, only lateral movements that almost always end her back up in the same exact, emotionally volatile state of mind, and the film takes place over a long enough period of time, with enough self-acknowledgement from Freddie of her self destructive tendencies, to where you would expect some kind of positive forward momentum. Also, and I'm not a doctor or a psychiatrist, but I really believe Freddie suffers from Bipolar disorder/manic depression, or at least a lot of her actions led me to believe that. However, the film doesn't seem interested in exploring that and never makes mention of it at all, which leads me to believe she wasn't written with that in mind, but all the signs are there. I feel like the story would have been more interesting had they explored this more, and might have given more context to why Freddie is the way she is.

I think the most frustrating thing about Return to Seoul is that it does so many things right, it has some great high points and the overarching story has all of the pieces in place for there to have been some kind of redeeming moment or, at the very least, slight character growth, but it never truly happens. One could argue that there is a light that illuminates some hope in the final scene, but I didn't read it that way. Return to Seoul is a good movie, as I've said multiple times, there are a ton of things to enjoy about it, but it stops itself from being great. I'm sure there are those out there that will connect with Freddie, clearly the film has been receiving widespread acclaim, but I couldn't find the in with her character, and it kept me from enjoying this the way I've heard others have.

Score: 7/10

Currently only in theaters.

[thecinemacritic]

REVIEW: Return to Seoul is a compelling character driven drama, with an excellent lead performance from Park Ji-min.

[guardianreadersofthegalaxy]

My ★ review of Return to Seoul on Letterboxd https://boxd.it/4hoCoj

"I'm French! Why do you think I have this outrageous accent you silly Korean?! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!"

In all seriousness, this read like a remake of 'The Worst Person In The World', only more boring. Fortunately, since seeing 'TWPITW' my partner and I always check to see if the other's bored too so we were able bail on this at the halfway point. I whispered "if she fucks that old man, I'm out of here"...

[middleofrow]

Film Review: Return to Seoul

(more…) “”

[lockefanfic]

Truth

The following can be considered an alternate ending to the Business Trip series - although it can just as easily be read on its own. :)

---

The first few weeks together as an official couple were wonderful. Honeymoon phase and all that. Moving in together, domestic bliss. Fucking like rabbits, of course. But problems arose - became noticeable, and then unavoidable. Two of them, actually.

Problem 1: Your job.

Problem 2: Her job.

---

Problem 1: You’d thought business trips were a thing of the past. They weren’t.

You were happy to put the little adventure you’d had in Seoul and Tokyo behind you. Since then you’d done your best to decline any opportunities to engage in similar trips - feigning illness, sending underlings in your place, handling as many meetings as you could remotely. These days your life consisted of long, sometimes draining days at the office - a far cry from the brushes with danger and law enforcement that characterized your most recent trip overseas. Your days at work were boring and mundane now, but you were at home, and that was what mattered.

Home, after all, was where she was.

Regardless, the allure of another trip still came calling every now and then, tempting you, enticing you into spending a couple of weeks or months overseas where anything could - and sometimes did - happen. 

Sometimes that allure took physical form. Sometimes it came waltzing into your office wearing a tight blouse and a pencil skirt. Sometimes it was named Shin Ryujin. Other days it was named Hwang Yeji, or Lee Chaeryeong. Today, as with most days, it was named Shin Yuna.

“Ryujin and Yeji are on-site in Busan, and Chaeryeong is in Seoul, waiting for her flight to join them. Lia sustained injuries in our last operation and isn’t medically cleared for this one, but she’s recovering well. Ryujin has begin surveillance on our competitors’ teams - codenamed New Jeans and Le Sserafim - and she is ready to proceed with next steps once you arrive,” Yuna says, eagerness evident in the tone of her moderately Korean-accented english. “Shall I make travel arrangements for us to join them?”

For the first time since she walked into your office you look up from the reports on your laptop. You don’t miss the small bite the young woman is giving her lower lip, nor the way she has crossed her legs and begun leaning her wide hips against your desk. It takes more restraint than you were willing to admit not to steal a glance at her long pantyhose-clad legs and the tight charcoal pencil skirt they led to. You find the self-control to keep eye contact with your eager young executive assistant, even if her body language and tone of voice made her intentions clear and easy to read.

“Give me a second to finish reviewing Ryujin’s report,” you answer, returning your full attention to the screen in front of you. “I’ll confirm whether I need to be on-site by end of day, and if so you can make the necessary arrangements then.” 

Despite her best efforts, Yuna can’t hide the small twinge of disappointment that makes its way across her soft features. She’d been looking forward to the thirteen hour flight with you and the opportunities it would present.

“Oh, and…” she begins, her tone a little less upbeat now that you’d at least temporarily dampened her excitement. “You have a visitor. It’s Detective-”

“Let her in,” you interrupt. Yuna frowns, offers a short bow - a lingering habit from her Korean upbringing - and steps back toward the door to your office. She swings it open, and you catch the look of disdain on her features when she waves in your visitor.

Im Nayeon pushes past Yuna and into the office. She gives Yuna a sharp look as she passes the younger woman, and even from your chair you can sense the venom in it. The detective sits down in the chair opposite your desk, legs and arms crossed. She is dressed plainly, in a short denim skirt and a leather jacket, the glimmer of her badge on a chain around her neck the only clue as to her profession. She drops a large paper bag onto your desk.

“Please let me know if you need anything else, sir-”

“That will be all, Yuna,” you answer. 

Before your executive assistant has a chance to close the door, Nayeon turns her head and squeezes in one last shot.

“Cancel his next hour, Miss-” 

“My name is Yuna,” the young woman at the door answers, crossing her arms, scowl painted on her lips.

“Whatever,” Nayeon retorts, flatly. “Clear his schedule for the next hour. Oh, and do be a dear and lock the door.”

Out of the corner of your eye you catch two things - the barely restrained scoff on Yuna’s lips, and the satisfied sneer on Nayeon’s. With one last look of scorn directed at the back of the detective’s head, the younger Korean woman closes the door with a little more force than was necessary. The click of the lock engaging follows shortly after, as does the heavier than usual click-clack of her heels as she stomps away in obvious irritation.

“You have a thing for executive assistants with hips,” Nayeon observes. “Although this one’s much more of a brat than the last one.”

“Be nice,” you say, although you can’t keep the smirk from appearing on your lips as you continue to scroll through the report on your laptop. “She grew up in Korea, so she’s useful whenever I’m in-country. And she’s not a bad person.”

“I know,” Nayeon relents. “But the more of a cunt I am to her, the more she gets off on being a little fucktoy for you. I bet she gets off on thinking that you’re fucking her without me knowing. I bet it makes her so wet.”

Your smirk turns into a slim smile, and it becomes difficult to keep your eyes on the report in front of you.

“Am I wrong?” she contests.

“No,” you admit, finally turning to give her your full attention. “In fact, I’m about to hop on a plane with her to Korea in a couple of days. I expect it will be an… eventful flight.”

“Good,” Nayeon states, satisfied. “I bet she’ll be a good little girl for you, now that she’s received another reminder of how much you need some time away from your queen bitch of a girlfriend.”

She smiles - this one warm, soft - the smile that caught you in its clutches all those years ago and never let go. She turns momentarily to face the door.

“Oh, yeah, baby, fuck, you’re so big in me, fuck me! Fuck, this is the best dick I’ve ever had!” she exclaims in faux-pleasure, ensuring she was loud enough for the exasperated executive assistant sitting just outside your door to hear. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“We can fuck at home later. I just wanted to piss her off,” Nayeon admits, a sly smile on her lips. “Anyway, pull up House of the Dragon?”

“Already on it,” you answer, swinging your laptop screen around so you can both watch. Nayeon pulls containers of take-out sushi from the paper bag.

She swaps your salmon for her tamago.

She leans over your desk as she passes you your chopsticks. She gives you a warm kiss, and the smile she leaves on your lips stays there for the rest of the day.

---

Even after all these years, she never tired of the collar and its leash.

It was showing signs of wear, of course - the bright fire engine red had faded into a softer, paler shade, the chain was no longer as shiny, and there was more than one set of her teeth marks on it from particularly frisky sessions - but she never missed a chance to put it on when the mood struck, and you never missed a chance to put it on her.

For now you are content to let the chain dangle freely in your left hand, watching the light streaming in from the open window as it plays on its metallic links. The chain glimmers in the morning light against her pale, creamy skin, swaying and occasionally bouncing along with her movements.

The chair you are sitting on protests with the weight and movement the both of you make atop it. Her soft sighs and gasps - a far cry from the loud shouts and moans you knew she was well capable of - happily cancel out the furniture’s squeaking protests as she rides you atop it. Soft, sensual, slow. The perfect fuck for a perfect morning.

You do your best to just sit there and savour the moment, letting Nayeon do all the work as she grinded back and forth on your lap. As much as you enjoyed watching her bounce up and down atop you, taking your full length in and out of her body - taking special delight in the delicious bounce it gave her breasts and thighs - there was something to be said for the intimacy of the way she was riding you now, slowly and softly. It gave her a chance to grind her slick, swollen clit against your crotch, and while it only let a third or so of your cock slip in and out of her hot, slippery cunt with each entry and exit, each movement nonetheless caused a warm spike of pleasure to course up your spine as your cock moves around inside her.

She was so beautiful, so utterly ethereal and intensely erotic all at the same time - clothed simultaneously in perfect golden sunlight and slick sweat, saliva, and other fluids. She was ethereal beauty and dirty sex. She wore both, was utterly enrapturing in both, was equally comfortable in both.

You watch each movement of her body - a body you knew well, knew every peak and curve and valley of - and you never tired of it. You watch as her round, full thighs flex and work, as her tight core drives her lower body back and forth, as her small, perfect breasts sway and bounce. Her face is immaculate, soft features twisted and wracked by pleasure. Sweat glistens over all of it. It makes her perfect skin glisten and glimmer in the sunlight.

You take a moment to look over her shoulder at the dressing mirror behind her, relishing the sight of her back - the beautiful curve of her spine and the sweat dripping down that delicious valley; the round cheeks of her ass and the muscles beneath them as they work to fuck herself on your cock; the short glimpses of your balls as she moves back and forth, takes you in and out of her body. Even her hair, having started the morning pulled into a messy bun, has become disheveled and loose - but in a way that is enticing and alluring, glued to the back of her neck and upper shoulders by perspiration.

Your right hand, resting on her thigh, snakes a path up her body - up her chiselled abs, cupping a soft breast and delighting in the tightness of her nipple as you capture it with your thumb and index finger and give it a pull, a twist, a pinch. Her pussy pulsates in response around you. She is sighing and moaning her pleasure when your hand continues its journey, sliding up a sweaty neck until you reach the side of her face.

Her eyes, shut, drift open at your touch. 

You give the chain a jerk forward.

Her entire upper body crashes against yours at the sudden pull at her neck. Your lips find and capture hers, and for a few moments you share a passionate, heavy kiss. As your tongues duel you give her a slight thrust upward with your hips, timed to meet the apex of her grind - and she sighs into your mouth at the movement, eyes shutting again, nails digging into your shoulders.

Spurred by her reaction, you continue to thrust upward as best you can given your sitting position. Her cunt, already so wet and slick and hot, clenches around you with each thrust, welcoming you, taking you.

“Oh god,” she sighs, the first full words either of you have spoken in a while. “Oh god, I’m close-“

Her sentence breaks into a moan, a soft, wordless cry of pleasure as you continue your thrusts upwards into her body. She wraps her arms around your shoulders, burying your face against her warm, moist chest. You lick the sweat from between her dangling breasts. You savour each moan that leaves her mouth, heavy and hot, directly into your ears.

The chain drops from your left hand, its end falling with a soft clink onto the hardwood floor of your apartment. Forgotten for now, because the faux, pretend-ownership it represented was no longer needed, was perhaps never necessary.

She orgasms around you - pussy clenching, lungs emptying of breath as she cries her pleasure into your bedroom. Your hands find themselves clutching at her moist, sweaty back, hugging her to you, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

“Your cum, inside me,” she hisses, her voice soft and almost vulnerable in your ear, still at the height of her orgasm. “Please, I want, I need it, please.”

Im Nayeon knew you - knew every part of what made you tick. She knew what you wanted to hear, knew when you wanted to hear it.

You thrust upward into her clenching, creamy cunt one last time. Every part of her body surrounds you, wraps itself around you: she buries your head into her chest, fingers interwoven into your hair, cradling you with her arms and legs as her cunt clenches and tightens around your cock. 

Your shaft spurts warm, thick cum into her. She lets a sigh leave her breathless lips with each pulse of your cock inside her, knowing each one was another rope of cum that would bind your bodies even further together.

Your fluids mix inside her, eventually sliding out between the pussy lips stretched tight around the base of your cock. It drips down your shaft, your balls, and onto the chair. You are sticky everywhere - on your sweaty chests, your slick thighs, but especially where you are joined together, your shaft still embedded hilt deep inside her. You are glued together, made one.

You sigh into her chest, and the nails that had dug furrows into your scalp now stroke it softly. The exhaustion hits you both at once, and for a few wonderful moments the only sound either of you can hear is the sound of heavy breathing.

Her hands eventually slide from your scalp. Her turn now to cradle your face in her hands. Your faces hover in front of each other, noses barely touching, half-lidded, pleasure-ridden eyes locked on one another.

For a moment her left hand moves to her neck, where she undoes and releases the clasp of the red leather collar. It slips from her body and falls to the floor.

“I belong to you,” she says, breathless, not needing some scrap of leather around her neck to convince you of it - not that she ever needed such a thing to begin with. Her hands cradle your face, palms on each cheek, like you are the most delicate thing in the world. Your arms wrap themselves even tighter around her soft, trembling torso. Your foreheads touch, your eyes close.

“I know,” you answer. “I always have.”

Later that morning, when she is snoring peacefully, you slip out of the bed. Your flight to Korea wasn’t until later that afternoon, and so you had some time to spare before you had to leave the house, and her, for god knew how long. Every part of you wanted to lie there in bed with her and savour every moment of it, not knowing when you’d next be able to do so - but you had decided the night before that something needed to be done, and there was no better time to do it.

You fire up the coffee maker - you’d both settled into specific domestic roles since moving in together, and you were almost immediately appointed Minister of Caffeinated Beverages - and take a seat at the kitchen island with your laptop.

A few minutes later, and you’d begun an email to JYP informing him of your intention to resign your position following the end of your next business trip.

Distance had taken her from you once, and it wouldn’t do it again.

---

“Is she being a good girl?”

“Yes, Nayeon,” you say, your answer somewhere between a sigh and a hiss as you press your phone close to your ear, ensuring only you could hear the voice on the other side of the call. You made sure to use her name, as she’d previously suggested, knowing what hearing it would do to the young woman you were currently sharing a hotel room with. 

Between your legs, Yuna gives the tip of your cock a swirl with the end of her tongue. Those large doe eyes glance up at you, the mention of your girlfriend’s name giving the topless young woman a small spike of wicked delight. You watch with a measure of your own satisfaction as she pumps your cock with one hand, the other fondling her own small, round breast and the tight nipple atop it. After a moment her hand drifts down her body, between her legs - and soon after she begins to sigh and moan around a mouthful of your shaft as she begins to pleasure herself.

“Good,” Nayeon continues. “I told you she would be. Did you fuck her on the plane, too?”

“Yes, we’ve started the operation. And yeah, Korea’s hot this time of year,” you say, keeping up the false pretence you both agreed upon.

“Let me guess - she’s on her knees? Are you fucking that pretty little mouth of hers?”

“Not yet,” you answer, “I think I’ll let the team continue to observe before we move.” Your eyes drift closed as the pleasure begins to build. You lean your head back slightly as the young woman between your knees increases her pace. What Yuna lacked in experience and technique, she more than made up for with enthusiasm.

On the line, you hear a soft sigh. A moment later, the sigh turns into a barely audible moan.

“What about you?” you ask. “Are you busy? How’s work?”

“Fine. I’m… alone. In a squad car.”

“On a stakeout?”

“We prefer the term ‘distanced surveillance,’ but yes, a stakeout.”

“You miss me?”

“Fuck,” you hear, followed by a soft hum. “Yes, I miss you,” she admits.

A thousand miles away, you smirk. The image of Nayeon alone, in her car, in an alleyway, a hand down her pants, touching herself to the sound of her boyfriend getting head from another woman - it aroused you more than the young woman between your knees, truth be told.

“Do you… miss me?” she asks.

You reach out with your free hand, cradling the side of Yuna’s head, running your fingertips through the bright red strands. She redoubles her efforts at your touch - she quickens her pace, her hand squeezing tighter around your shaft as her head continues to bob up and down its length.

“Fuck, I want you right now, Nayeon,” you hiss, knowing what repeating her name would do to the younger woman filling her mouth with your shaft. “I wish you were here.”

Between your legs, the moan Yuna lets out around your cock sends a delicious pulse of pleasure up your spine. On the line, Nayeon lets a similar moan escape her lips. 

“Tell me what you would do to me,” Nayeon says, tone low and deep, the way it was when she was desperate, needy. “I bet she’d do it for you.”

You bite your lip for a second - listening to Nayeon’s increasingly breathless sighs and picturing her becoming a writhing, wet little mess in her car, watching Yuna try and fail to wrest your attention away - taking it all in, savouring every second of the two women, a thousand miles apart, each doing their best to pleasure you in their own way.

“I’d pull your mouth off my cock,” you say, gripping the base of Yuna’s ponytail and easing her off your shaft. She looks up with you with those large doe eyes of hers, momentarily confused, temporarily disappointed at the sudden emptiness in her mouth - until she quickly catches on to your intentions.

“Mmm, more,” Nayeon says, on the verge of a plea.

“I’d tell you to strip, and get your cunt on my cock like a good little girl.”

And just as she predicted, Yuna does exactly that - peels off ridiculously short denim shorts she wore, along with the flimsy scrap of string beneath it that passed for a thong. She climbs atop you, straddles your waist, reaches between your bodies, grasps your slick cock and spends just a second rubbing your head against her dripping, slick lips.

And then she takes you inside her. On the line, Nayeon hears that unmistakable gasp you made whenever you entered her own cunt, and it drives her crazy. Her fingers work quickly between her legs. 

A thousand miles away, you watch as Yuna bounces her young, tight little body on your cock - up and down, up and down, up and down. She is rough, fast, impatient, with little technique but plenty of need. 

Your free hand grips a thigh before snaking up her torso, gripping a soft, bouncing breast and pinching the taut nipple between two fingers and giving it a slight slap from the side that elicits a yelp of pleasure from the young woman. Your cock stretches her tight little cunt with each entry, filling her up, making her need more, want more, making her lose her control over her senses - not that she had much to begin with.

She is enthusiastic, needy - but she is clumsy in her movements, inexperienced, drunk on the idea of being used and fucked and not possessing the control to savour the moment, make it anything more memorable than a messy, quick fuck.

She sighs and moans. “Daddy,” she gasps, uncaring now of being heard on the line, forgetting that you were supposed to be fucking her on the down low, under your girlfriend’s nose. “Daddy please, I need… Daddy please, your cum, inside me, I want-”

You remind her of her place by closing your hand around her throat. Not enough to cause pain, but enough to remind her of what she was - a fucktoy. Something to warm your cock while you were apart from the woman you really wanted. A substitute for a woman a thousand miles away.

“Is she… is she good for you?” Nayeon asks, voice betraying the fact that she was bringing herself to the edge. She’s wet and squirming and sighing - but she’s alone, in her car, far away. 

Her fingers aren’t you.

Yuna continues to fuck herself on your cock, recklessly and wildly, her orgasm doing little to slow or stop her. You watch as she bites down hard on her lower lip, enough to draw blood, doing her best to keep herself from vocalizing the pleasure coursing through her body and only partially succeeding. You knew she’d be especially loud once you’d ended the call. You consider pretending to end it but leaving the line open, just to give Nayeon the satisfaction of hearing what Shin Yuna sounded like when she was being bent over the bed and having her tight little pussy pounded full of cum.

Your fingers tighten around Yuna’s neck as she bounces with an increasingly wild pace atop your cock. It forces her to slow down, forces her to submit to you and your needs. It reminds her of her place, reminds her who she was. It was necessary.

A makeshift leash. 

“She’s good, Nayeon,” you admit. “But she’s not you.”

---

“Alright, I have to admit - she’s pretty fucking perfect for you.”

“There’s something I never thought I’d hear you say,” you admit, looking up from your laptop and the report on it to give Shin Yuna a look. The young woman is lounging about on her stomach your hotel room bed, picking away at a plate of room service french fries. She’d taken a shower, but hadn’t bothered to put her clothes back on after you’d bent her over the bed and fucked a load into her.

“She’s a bitch, don’t get me wrong,” she continues, tone casual, as though she weren’t naked on her boss’ hotel room bed with his cum still warm inside her. “But she’s really fucking pretty, and she’s a cop? Man. That’s a dream girl for most guys, you have to admit.”

“I suppose,” you say, flatly. “Where are you going with this, Yuna?”

“Nowhere,” she answers, popping another fry into her mouth. “I was just curious, I guess.”

“About?”

“About why you’re not married yet. About why there aren’t little hellspawn baby versions of her running around in your life.”

The thought is finally enough to wrest your attention from the report for good. You give the young woman atop your bed a look.

“Listen, I think it’s hot as fuck to be some exec’s fucktoy,” Yuna continues. “I just want to make sure I’m not the thing that’s keeping him from marrying the love of his life or some shit.”

“You’re not stopping anything, Yuna,” you state, clearly, ensuring that she didn’t form any wrong impressions. You certainly didn’t want her to overestimate her role in your life. “Trust me,” you add.

“So then what is stopping you? You’re in love, aren’t you?” Yuna continues. “I’ve heard all about your past with her from the company grapevine, and Dahyun filled me in on the rest. College sweethearts finding each other again in a foreign land after so long apart - that’s cute as fuck. So why isn’t there a ring on her finger and a baby in her belly?”

You are struck temporarily wordless by your executive assistant’s forwardness, but the answer comes to you eventually.

“We’re not ready yet,” you state.

Yuna seems satisfied with your answer - or at least, isn’t curious enough to pursue it further. She gives you a shrug before she picks up her phone and begins to scroll on it. “Whatever you say, boss,” she says.

You return your attention to your laptop, and the resignation email to JYP that was sitting in your drafts. Sending it would mean leaving a career that, in many ways, had defined you. Yes, it had played a major role in bringing Nayeon back into your life, but were you really ready to give up the adventures in distant lands, not to mention all the romance and intrigue and excitement said adventures brought with them? 

Your cursor hovers over the send icon.

—

Problem 2: Her job.

As it turned out, JYP was more than happy to do whatever it took to keep you with the company - even if it meant giving you a tidy little promotion along with a promise to make any further business trips entirely optional. That was Problem 1 solved, then - leaving only Problem 2.

For the most part, Nayeon did a good job of keeping her work at work and not taking it home with her. Every now and then she’d vent about a particularly hard case she was on, or tell you about how something an actor did in a movie or tv show was wildly inaccurate compared to standard law enforcement procedures in the real world. By and large you could almost forget that she was a senior detective who regularly found herself in situations the average person might consider dangerous.

This was all to say that you only rarely gave Nayeon’s profession any thought, had you not noticed the breaking news report playing on the large TV screen in the JYP lobby on your way back from lunch one afternoon.

A reporter, apparently on scene, is speaking into the camera - but the TV is muted, and the captions are not turned on. Behind him civilians flee from a building under the guidance of two understandably anxious-looking uniformed police officers with their sidearms drawn. “Active hostage situation underway at downtown bank,” read the ticker. “Multiple hostages and casualties reported.” 

You were ready to give it no further thought aside from a passing sense of disappointment at the general state of crime in your country, had you not caught a fleeting glimpse of her on the screen.

In the background, behind the reporter, Nayeon steps into frame, her back to the camera - but it was unmistakably her. She flashes the badge around her neck to the two uniformed cops nervously holding the bank entrance door.

You watch as she draws her sidearm from the holster at her hip, racks the slide to chamber a round, and rushes into the building.

--

To say the next few hours were absolutely nerve wracking would be an understatement. 

Yes, you’d known that danger and the possibility of being hurt were part and parcel of being a member of active law enforcement. You were in the room when she was quite literally shot at close range in Seoul - a few layers of kevlar being the only thing that kept her from bleeding out on a dirty apartment floor.

You’d done your best to avoid having to deal with the reality that your girlfriend had a relatively dangerous profession. Maybe it was a subconscious thing - maybe your brain knew that living every day in fear of your girlfriend losing her life was not exactly conducive to a healthy relationship - or a healthy mental state.

Whatever the reason, it didn’t really hit home until that day. You’d never been so worried in your life, staying glued to the TV and your phone and news sites, pacing nervously alone in your apartment, grasping for any snippet of an update that would confirm she was okay, that she was safe. Needless to say she wasn’t picking up her phone, and a call to her precinct lieutenant went unanswered. 

You’d learn later that she was never in any actual danger - the gunfire she’d heard turned out to be warning shots fired into the ceiling to intimidate the bank staff. Nayeon, who’d been passing by the building randomly on her lunch break, had decided that civilians were in immediate danger and entered the bank on her own volition, cleared out the remaining customers from the bank lobby, and held down the hallway leading to the safety deposit boxes where the suspects were holed up until SWAT arrived. 

As the first responder to the scene, protocol demanded she remain on-site until it was resolved, explaining the length of her absence. She wasn’t actually in danger for very long, she’d later insist.

But she knew none of that when she rushed into the building, gun in hand. For all she’d known there could have easily been a suspect pointing an assault rifle down the hallway, finger on the trigger, just waiting for an eager young detective to stray into his sights. Moreover, her nine millimetre sidearm and lack of kevlar would’ve put her in a precarious position had they decided to make an escape using force.

Nonetheless, you were more relieved than you’d ever been in your life when she finally called to tell you she was on her way home - eight hours and forty-nine minutes since you’d made your first unanswered call to her cell phone (the first of thirty). 

Your heart let out the breath it had been holding for nine hours.

---

When she finally got home it was a lot, all at once. 

It was relief, mostly, and then reassurance, and comfort, followed shortly by an irresistible, intense lust. Danger never failed to get Im Nayeon going.

Within seconds of bursting through the door she was already on you, arms wrapped around your neck as yours wrapped around hers, lips searching for and quickly pulling yours into a deep, passionate kiss. Her leather jacket quickly leaves her body, her fingers immediately going to work on your button-up. While this hurried undressing was happening, when your lips parted long enough to draw in a breath, she’d tried, in broken sentences, to fill you in on what had happened.

You pieced enough together from her jumbled words to get an idea of how her day went, and how she wasn’t allowed to contact you until the incident was resolved. You wanted to ask her more, wanted to know more about what exactly happened, but she was in no mood for talking. Her lips and tongue stole the words and questions from your mouth before you could give them voice.

You are naked before long, stumbling into the bedroom and leaving behind a trail of haphazardly discarded clothing. She pushes you onto the bed with more force than you were ready for - silencing any objections by quickly climbing atop you, straddling your lap as you sit on its edge. Your mouths find each other and your tongues continue their frantic duel. Before long you slip from her lips to kiss a rough trail down her neck and to her chest.

You capture a breast in your mouth, closing your lips around her taut nipple. “Fuck,” she gasps, her hands quickly burying themselves in your hair, nails digging almost painfully into your scalp as you suckle from her tight bud.

A small part of you wants to slow down - perhaps even stop altogether - and tell her how damn worried you were for her, how the last nine hours were the longest nine hours you’d ever had in your life. But she steals your words again, this time with some of her own.

“Hard,” she hisses between gritted teeth, “I want it hard.”

She reaches between you, points your tip at her dripping entrance, and takes you inside her.

The long, hot sigh that escapes your lips finally rips them from her nipple. For the next few minutes you are powerless to do more than breathe heavily between her breasts as she rides you - those toned, full thighs of her working to throw her body up and down your shaft, taking you in and out of her tight, warm little cunt.

“Nayeon, I-” you begin, finally finding the wherewithal after a few minutes to look up at her.

She silences you with a finger to your lips. Her eyes are half-lidded, but hungry.

“Shut up,” she spits. “Just shut up.”

You were not one to argue, not when you were balls deep inside the most beautiful woman you’d ever known. And so you content yourself with watching as Nayeon took her pleasure from your body, using your cock like a toy, impaling herself with it over and over again until she became a mewling, moaning mess atop your lap.

You grasp her thighs, squeeze her bouncing breasts and tease the nipples atop them, slide your hand up her chest and up her throat and to her jaw before sliding your thumb between her lips for her to suck as you cradle the side of her pleasure-filled face - and throughout it all she rides you, pace relentless, merciless, hard.

Soon she is cumming - and she shows no sign of stopping, fucking herself through her orgasm even as her body is wracked by pleasure. She trembles, shakes, and quivers atop you - but it doesn’t stop her, doesn’t come close to fulfilling her immense need. She wants more. She needs more. 

Even as her orgasm radiates throughout her body and turns her into a wet, writhing mess, you hold her tight to you as you turn her over, putting her on her back atop the bed while you rise to your feet next to it. You wrap her legs around your waist, pull her hips onto yours, and continue to fuck her - hard, fast, rough.

She sighs and moans and cries and you are content to let her, content to let out some of the frustration and worry and fear you’d held inside you for most of the day on her tight, helpless little body. Her breasts bounce deliciously atop her heaving chest. Her fingers are claws, finding purchase wherever she can - on the bedsheets and your forearms, mostly. Eventually she reaches down and fingers her own clit, even as your cock pumps in and out between the lips of her cunt, just beyond her fingertips. Her eyes spur you on - telling you to keep fucking her, keep using her, all without saying a single word.

Your hands leave her hips, pulling on her legs until her calves are atop your shoulders. You continue to pound into her all along, this new position leaving her cunt open and exposed, rendering her helpless to do anything but take each hard, fast thrust you make into her body. It is almost callous, the way you fuck her, as though she were some whore and not the love of your life. You use her cunt. You make it yours, remind her who it belonged to. 

Her moans build, rising in volume and signalling another impending orgasm. You want to join her, and are about to give in, about to fill her-

“My ass,” she gasps. “Fuck my ass.”

She pulls her sweaty, still trembling body off you, denying you the warm slickness of her cunt. Her pussy drips onto the bedsheets as she wastes no time, getting atop the bed on her knees, upper body pressed against the bed. She reaches back with her hands, palming the cheeks of her ass, spreading them apart, showing you what she’d been keeping inside her.

And there it is, red silicone, glistening and slick with lube.

The sight of it takes your breath away. You let an unexpected sigh of pleasure leave your lips as you grasp the toy with your fingers, easing it out of her body slowly. She moans as it leaves her, perhaps in pain or pleasure or both. Soon it’s finally out. Every molecule in her body yearns to replace its absence.

Grasping your cock, slick and wet with her juices, you press the tip against her open, gaping hole - and begin to slide inside her.

You’d had her ass before, but never after she’d had a plug inside her, and it is sublime. Her ass immediately closes and tightens around you, and you think right then and there that you might cum. Your hand clutches her ass and left hip, fingers digging deep into the soft, yielding flesh, relishing the pleasure coursing through your veins but fighting it before it gets too intense, wanting to prolong this moment. She sighs and moans as she adjusts to your size. She trembles at the feeling of her ass being filled.

“Mmmm,” she hisses into the sheets, evidently having lost the ability to form words. She reaches back as far as she can with a free hand, her long fingers clutching your thigh. She pulls you toward her, and you oblige, pressing yourself as deep as you can until you are hilt deep.

“Do it,” she spits from between gritted teeth, “Fuck my ass. Hard.”

And so you begin - fucking Im Nayeon’s ass with hard, long strokes, using her tight, hot hole with the same tempo and speed as you did her cunt just moments earlier. She moans and shrieks and gasps into the sheets, the side of her face pressed against the bed, saliva dripping from a slack mouth. Her fingers are claws, digging into the sheets or your thighs or both, searching for something, anything, to ground herself amidst the constant pounding into the most vulnerable part of her body.

“Fuck, Nayeon,” you say, your brain unable to form much more than a curse and her name. She is so tight, so very hot - and she’d ensured the toy was well lubed before it entered her, so she was slick enough to make every entry and exit so delicious, so utterly sublime; a perfect cocktail of pleasure and pain all mixed into one irresistible sensation.

For the first time in a while Nayeon lifts her head from the bed, sweat pasting dark strands to the side of her face. She opens her mouth to say something-

But you reach forward, grasping her by the back of her neck, and slamming her back down onto the bed. She shrieks - partially in surprise, mostly in pleasure - as you resume pounding her.

“Shut up,” you spit. “Just shut up.”

The thick cotton bedsheets can do little to hide the long, deep moan of pleasure that leaves Nayeon’s lips as you impose yourself on her. She continues, not stopping for a moment, letting a drivel of wordless pleasure leave her mouth with each thrust you make into her body. She reaches a hand down, plays with her wet, slick clit even as you pound relentlessly into her ass - pleasuring her, hurting her - either way, making her yours.

The hand at her neck doesn’t leave her - it merely moves to her upper back, still keeping her pinned to the mattress, making sure she could do nothing more than take you. She lets you. She gives herself to you, lets you do what you want to her, because this - a rough, hard fuck - was what she wanted, what she craved.

It doesn’t take her long to orgasm, with her fingers on her clit and your cock pounding hard into her asshole. She tightens even more around you. She screams her pleasure into the bedsheets.

She clenches around your cock when she cums. It sends you over the edge, and you push yourself as deep as you can into Im Nayeon’s ass before you cum, filling her depths with thick, hot semen. Her moans turn into whimpers and then sobs, and you think for a moment that she might be crying.

You want to stay there, as you often did after you came inside her. You want to relish the moment and the sight of your cock embedded inside her ass and the feeling of her body wrapped around yours. But the accumulated physical and mental exhaustion of the day hit you all at once, and you collapse atop her, your arms only barely keeping you from crashing onto her back as you land on your elbows, still hilt-deep inside her.

You find the strength to bring your mouth to her ear. Filthy sex and dirty fucking aside, she had to know.

“I belong to you,” you say.

“I know,” she answers. Beneath the sweaty, messy hair and heavy breaths, Nayeon smiles.

—

The next morning, while you are still asleep, she wakes up early to make breakfast. She rarely cooked - every food delivery driver within a ten mile radius knew how to get to your apartment by heart - but when she did it was for special occasions. Or, in this case, a form of apology for making you worry so much the day before.

She’s stumbling towards the kitchen - she was understandably more than a little sore in places that made walking difficult - when she catches a glimpse of her old criminology textbooks on the hallway bookshelf. 

She was a fairly sentimental person, and despite your efforts she wouldn’t get rid of the old, heavy texts. She insisted that they were a part of what made her who she was, and wanted to keep them as a reminder of how far she’d come in her career; privately, she kept them to remind herself of those hard months when you’d left to join JYP all those years ago, and how much she missed being away from you. Those months were difficult, and she’d turned to her career as a way of coping. Those months were instrumental in putting her on the path to becoming a detective, but they were also part of what drove her to Seoul to find you.

A thought strikes her as her eyes take in titles of the texts. She reaches out and lets her fingertips graze their worn covers, seeing in them a way to ensure her career would never worry you so much again.

---

And so the problems were solved. All it took was a few uncomfortable emails, a few months of occasionally stressful worrying and intense interviews, and two new job offers. Easy peasy.

You’d taken a job at a branch office of JYP that promised travel would be completely optional. Nayeon had quit the PD and become a professor in criminology at a local college. You’d moved out of the small downtown apartment that had been the home you’d shared for the past five years, and into a slightly more comfortable townhouse in the suburbs.

Time passed. Good days and bad days. She was there for all of them, making the good days sweeter and the bad days more bearable. She was home. Safe harbour and north star for each other.

You are both sitting in a cafe on a lazy Sunday morning - you’re reading a book and nursing a coffee while she’s grading some papers on her laptop. You loved many things about your relationship, but one of the things you appreciated the most was how comfortable you both were in silence. The years had given you both a familiarity that had often transcended the need for speaking. Most of the time, you knew what the other was thinking, even before they spoke.

Your presence was enough, and there was no need to fill the space between you with words for the sake of it.

After awhile you look up to her to find that she’d been watching you, apparently for some time.

“I think we’re ready,” she says, a warm, soft smile on her lips. 

She says no more, returning her attention to her laptop, but you know what she means.

You smile as you return to your book.

---

Im Nayeon could always surprise you.

You’d had her more times than you could count, but this night was different - it was important, special in a way none of the in-shower quickies or weekend-long marathon sessions were. Just when you’d thought sex and lovemaking could hold no more surprises, you are proven wrong.

“It’s you,” she sighs into your ear, her voice soft, still filled with pleasure, but with an undercurrent of emotion that you’d never heard in her before. One of her arms wraps itself around your back, the other buried into the hair at the back of your neck as you thrust in and out of her body. 

“Cum inside me,” she continues, breathless, words spilling from her lips in a long, drawn out hiss. “Fill me up. It has to be you. Breed me, put a baby in my belly. I want it- I want you. It has to be you. It’s only ever been you.”

“Nayeon,” you say into her ear, and when she replies with your own name you think it is the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard in your life. 

She is tight, wet, hot - she feels every bit as good as she did when you were teenagers fumbling awkwardly in an old dorm room, or when you were reunited old flames brought together by fate in Seoul, or when you moved in together and decided to build lives together. But it means more now. It means more now than it ever did.

“Give me a baby,” she says, half-moan, half-sigh. “Breed me, make me yours.”

Words you’d heard before, from the same lips, on many another night. But none like tonight, not when she meant them more than she ever did - this wasn’t pillow talk, an act meant to spice up a risqué encounter; no, this was much more. She meant every word, without pretence or facade. She meant it all.

“Nayeon,” you repeat, unable to say much else. The sound of her name on your lips draws a sigh from hers, sends a quiver up her spine that is pure pleasure and love. 

“It has to be you,” she whispers into your ear, the most intimate words she has ever spoken. “It was always you - I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say, every molecule of your body shouting the words, even if they left your lips as little more than a light gasp.

You thrust between her spread legs, and she wraps her thighs and arms around you, making the two of you into one. 

You fill her. She sighs, moans - and when your cheeks press against each other as you both lie there, breathing heavily - you can feel her cheeks pull her lips into a smile.

---

“It was always going to be you and me, wasn’t it?”

You are caught a little off-guard by her words - truth be told your mind was solely fixated on the humble sign outside your favourite sushi restaurant and the familiar but delicious culinary delights that awaited you. It’s a Friday night, and you were looking forward to a quiet dinner with her following a long, draining week of work. 

The choice of dining establishment was a foregone conclusion, and you had nothing on your mind other than settling into a simple but comforting meal with her. Grand statements of destined love weren't exactly on your mind - not this early in the evening, anyway.

But when you turn to her and find a soft, warm smile on her lips, you couldn’t help but agree. She doesn’t even turn to look at you - her gaze, like yours, is locked on the old, dingy, familiar restaurant sign.

“Yes,” you answer, the word leaving your lips quickly, almost on instinct, almost on reflex, as though your body knew the truth - knew what you felt, in your innermost core. “It was always going to be you, Nayeon.”

She doesn’t turn her head to look at you. There is a slight deepening of the smile on her lips, a slightly deeper blush on her cheeks, but that’s it. She doesn’t need to read your face to verify or discern the truth in your expression. She is confident enough -  in the years you’ve spent together, in the trials and tribulations borne at each others’ side, to know the truth in your words.

She feels it in the way you clutch her hand, the way you hold her close in your most intimate moments, the way you brush stray hairs away from her forehead when you kiss her good morning before heading out the door to work. 

She sees it in the slight swell in her belly, and the family you were building together.

She knows all this. She feels it all, deep inside herself where nothing else exists except you and her and the home you’ve built with shared memories. She knows it is all true, always will be.

When you enter the restaurant you are greeted warmly with a smile and hug by the waiter - he’s become a good friend in the years since your escapades in Tokyo and Seoul. From behind the counter, Jisoo looks up from her prep work to wave and smile widely. She leaves the counter for a moment to greet you both, revealing the full roundness of her belly. She waddles awkwardly over, exchanging hugs, confirming plans for next week’s gender reveal dinner party for their child.

With one hand, Nayeon cradles Jisoo’s full belly. Perhaps unconsciously, her free hand hovers over her own, a warm, thoughtful smile on her lips.

Eventually, Jisoo shuffles adorably back to the counter to finish her vegetable prep, promising to come back later to chat. The waiter shows you to your table, leaving you both two cups of tea. 

He doesn’t leave a menu, because he already knows your order.

You tap the chest pocket of your jacket as you take it off and drape it over the back of your seat, making sure the small box and the engagement ring within were still there.

Nayeon cups her tea in both hands before taking a small sip. She finally locks eyes with you, although she doesn’t say anything. She knows she doesn’t have to. She’s content just to smile, content to reach her hand over the table, palm up, wanting nothing more than to feel your hand in hers.

Maybe she knew what was coming. Maybe she caught a glimpse of the box in your nightstand drawer, or noticed an open tab on your browser for a local jewelry store. Maybe she read it in your face at some point today, in the way you moved or the words you chose. She was a former detective and current professor of criminology, after all. She’d made a living out of reading people, and to her, you were an open book.

But it didn’t matter whether she knew it was coming or not, whether she would be surprised at all when, at the end of your meal, you got down on one knee in this restaurant where your relationship began and asked her to spend the rest of her life with you.

Because you both already knew, on some level had always known. It was always going to be you and her. And every trial and tribulation, every painful relationship with long-gone lovers, every day apart - it had all led to tonight.

Nayeon’s hand finds yours and your fingers intertwine.

Your heart warms at her touch.

---

Author’s Note: Good to be back ^^ Excuse any writing rust that was evident in this fic :( I actually had this alternate ending to BT mostly written awhile ago, but I'd been thinking about coming back to writing again and Nayeon's comeback gave me all the inspiration I needed to finally finish it.

Shoutout to @capslocked, whose work played a part in getting me back into writing. A special shoutout to his Tzuyu fic, which is probably one of my favorite smuts of all time - and I might have borrowed the phone sex idea from it. Love ya bud. Mimosa fic next pls k thx.

Stories and posts will be few and far between, but you’re always welcome to leave an ask. Thank you all for the love and support you've shown me over the past year. <3

[thedensworld]

Sweet Macaroons | C.Sc

Pairing: Gangster!Seungcheol x Baker!Reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Words Count: ±600

Summary: Seungcheol was far from pleased when a food critic posted a negative review that started to impact your sales. He couldn't stand to see you upset.

In the midst of a picturesque five months, Seungcheol, with an air of exclusivity, tenderly asked you to be his girlfriend. Everything seemed to move in slow motion around you, as if the universe itself was savoring the moment. His crew, astounded, couldn't fathom that a humble bakery owner just down the block from their bar had captured their boss's heart. He had transformed into something they never imagined: a unabashedly cheesy boy. Even Jeonghan, Seungcheol's right-hand man, remained baffled by the depth of his friend's infatuation with you. He couldn't quite grasp what had caused Seungcheol to fall so hard until he witnessed how Seungcheol would gladly stop the world at your command.

As an example of Seungcheol's devotion, he had gone as far as hiring a bodyguard to watch over you and ensure your safety. Seungcheol, ever mysterious about his business, would simply say, "I do business in Seoul and Busan," which, in its own way, was true. He owned nearly a hundred bars and nightclubs, not to mention his own association—a realm of details you didn't need to delve into.

Your bodyguard, Jun, who currently disguised as a barista in your bakery, would dutifully relay every detail to Seungcheol. This included mundane activities like your trips to the grocery store, visits from friends at the bakery, or even encounters with rude customers. Despite being in the know about your daily affairs through Jun, Seungcheol cherished hearing you recount your day, especially when it involved a customer that cussed on you. He'd teasingly inquire, "Should I track him down and make him pay?" A promise he would have swiftly fulfilled if you had not said, "No, you don't have to. I'll give him a piece mind when I'm a billionaire."

At times, Seungcheol really wants to say, "Marry me, and you can cuss him back in an instant." He was acutely aware of the influence he held.

However, he received an extremely irritating message from Jun, stating that a popular food critic had left a scathing review on their social media, claiming to have found a fly and cockroach legs in your sweets. This review had a detrimental impact on your sales and the overall image of the bakery, as people began leaving unpleasant comments on your social media platforms.

"Jeonghan, do you know this person?" Seungcheol inquired, displaying a video of the food critic.

Jeonghan confirmed, "Yeah, they're a very influential food critic."

Seungcheol nodded thoughtfully and hummed, "Do you know how to contact them?" he pressed further.

"I think we just need to get in touch with their management. They'll provide you with the pricing for their content," Jeonghan explained, prompting another question from Seungcheol.

"Then we can have them review our food however we want?" Jeonghan nodded, "Why? Are you thinking about having them promote our new foodbar?" he inquired.

Seungcheol shook his head, simultaneously signaling to Jeonghan that he wanted to be dropped off at your bakery.

Jun had informed Seungcheol that you had closed the bakery early today due to the lack of customers following the internet sensation. When Seungcheol arrived, only Jun was present in the bakery. He mentioned that you had gone to the convenience store for a few minutes. As Seungcheol patiently waited at one of the tables, you returned with a plastic bag in hand. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't immediately notice him. Instead, you went straight to Jun, telling him he could go home. Jun subtly gestured towards Seungcheol, indicating that he was waiting for you.

"Hi..." Your voice, though soft as always, carries a subtle shade of sadness. Seungcheol swears he can hear it, a touch of blue in your tone.

He smiles, approaching you and subtly signaling for Jun to leave the shop.

"Are you okay? I saw it online," Seungcheol asks gently once Jun has vanished from view.

You smile back at him, but tears well up in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks. You turn away, hiding your face from him as you wipe away the tears. Seungcheol's heart aches at the sight, a feeling he's never experienced before, like someone's squeezing his heart, causing a deep ache.

"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs softly, turning you to face him and pulling you into an embrace. He can feel the tightness in his chest intensify when he hears you sob.

This is the first time he's seen you cry in the five months you've been dating. He swears he'd never want to be the cause of your tears, let alone someone else.

"It's okay, baby. Bad things happen sometimes. It's not your fault," he reassures you as you try to explain how diligently you maintain your bakery's hygiene and ensure the freshness of ingredients. There's no way the accusations the food critic made could be true.

Seungcheol noticed the contents of the plastic bag you had been holding earlier: cleaning soap and equipment. His heart breaks once again, this time tinged with anger.

"Let's go home and rest, okay? I'll hire someone to clean the shop. I don't want to see you laboring with a heavy heart like this," he insists.

Seungcheol calls Jeonghan and swiftly arranges for his people to clean your shop. He drives you home, ensuring you have a proper dinner before settling down for some much-needed rest. Once you're peacefully asleep, he quietly slips away, reaching out to Jun and Jeonghan.

"Get them for me before midnight. Alive," he instructs.

Seungcheol doesn't concern himself with the specifics of how they carried out his request. But when his people successfully bring them to his office, he finally confronts the face that caused his girl to cry.

"What's your name?" Seungcheol asks, rising from his seat and approaching them.

"Who put you up to this?" Seungcheol presents their damning post about your bakery to their face. Poor soul, Seungcheol thinks. This food critic probably never imagined they'd be dragged in by a gangster and subjected to an interrogation like this.

Once Seungcheol acquires the name, he signals his people to reveal the extent of their capabilities. Images of their family and significant other are displayed, and they immediately plead for an apology, expressing regret for their actions.

"You should've thought about that before you posted that garbage," Seungcheol states, fixing them with a steely gaze.

"Upload a clarification video about your previous review. Go to that bakery tomorrow and apologize to the owner. Post both of those things before lunch if you want to spare them," Seungcheol directs, referring to the individuals in the photos as he delivers his unwavering ultimatum.

*

"It was a very wrong act of me to accept the offer to give a bad review to another bakery. I deeply apologize to the owner and my followers for doing such a wrong thing."

Seungcheol smiled at you as you showed him the video from the same account that had claimed they found a cockroach leg on your macaroon.

"See! I knew that my bakery and kitchen have passed the hygiene standards," you said, placing your phone down. There was a visible pout on your face, prompting Seungcheol to let out a chuckle.

"You're too cute," Seungcheol teased, pinching your cheek. He was relieved to see no trace of tears like the previous night.

You gently pulled his hand from your cheek as you stood up to restock the macaroon stall, which was nearly empty. Seungcheol couldn't help but smile as he watched you, his girl, his love, engrossed in the work you adored.

"Before you go, want a macaroon and your favorite latte?" you offered. He swore he would nod to anything you said.

"Here! I've packed some for your staff as well," you added, handing him boxes filled with sweets and a bundle of coffees for Seungcheol and Jeonghan.

He wouldn't let anyone steal your smile, even if he had to stop the world.

[married-2-the-music]

ONEW Deep Dive: SHINee's Hidden Gem

Onew is one of the five members of 2nd generation group SHINee, which also includes Taemin, Jonghyun, Key, and Minho, and debuted with them in 2008 before debuting as a soloist ten years later with Blue.

Here are my credentials: If you’ve ever read my blog before, you’ll know I’m a huge ShaWol (SHINee fan), and so I’m slowly making my way through their solo discographies before eventually tackling their huge discography as a group. I’ve done Taemin, Jonghyun, Key, and now Onew, but Onew’s actually the one I know the least well, so I’m excited to get to know more! (Also shoutout to @fallsouthwinter, who knows his work like the back of their hand).

[back2bluesidex]

Delicate, Yoongi, implied smut?

Delicate - MYG (18+)

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader

Theme: implied smut, a hint of angst, fluff, strangers to lovers AU

Song: Delicate

Word count: 1290

Warnings: Mention of drinking, one night stand, reader is head over heels for Yoongi.

Minors and Karens Are Not Allowed in this Blog!!

A/N: Thank you so much for this request Anon! Delicate is one of my personal favorites. and especially thank you for confirming your age, I appreciate you for complying with my request. Hope you like this one and hit me with your feedback.

The bartender smiles at you as you settle down on a bar stool. 

“Welcome back.” he greets. You are half shocked to find out that he actually remembered you after seven long months. 

“You remember me?” You return his smile. 

“How could I not? You are certainly one of the most beautiful yet humble ladies I have ever served.” he compliments and your smile widens. 

“Thanks..” you reply, being quite flattered. 

“Will you take the same as that night?” the bartender asks. 

Just the mention of that night spreads goosebumps on your entire body. Oh how you want to repeat that night, how you want to end in that same position over and over again. You must be a freak for wanting so, but you don’t care. 

“Yes, yes please.” You murmur your order. 

You do a quick scan of the bar, trying to find that one face you came all the way here for. But to your dismay, you don’t find what you are looking for. You get no sight of him. 

“He is not here tonight.” the bartender pipes in while placing your drink down on the bartop. 

“Huh? I- I didn’t get you.” you lie. 

“You are looking for him. The guy from that night. Aren’t you?” he smirks. 

“I won’t say no.” You take a sip of your drink, “is he a regular here?” 

“Yes. Almost. But never seen him hitting on anyone other than you though.” 

“Oh.” you reply, taking another sip. The bartender gives you one last smile before he leaves you to your own devices. 

As soon as the space is empty, you let your mind (and heart) drift back to that night of seven months ago. 

Seven months ago

“Long island iced tea is the best choice if you want something refreshing.” a voice interrupts your menu reviewing process as you look up from the screen to take a look at the owner of the voice. 

You are spellbound. Your eyes have never had the privilege of resting on a more handsome man. His pale skin perfectly compliments his feline eyes and thin lips. His long and dark hair reaches to his nape enhancing his beauty even more. If there is anything you could compare his beauty to then it would be a mansion with a view of a wide blue sky and equally blue ocean. 

You don’t realize that you are staring at the stranger with your mouth hanging open. 

You only get your composure back when his bicep brushes with yours as he tries to settle on the bar stool next to yours. 

You avert your eyes from him and proceed to place your order, “One long island iced tea please.” The bartender nods. 

“Thanks for the suggestion.” you look at him again, this time with a small smile adoring your lips. 

He smiles back at you and god! Why is your heart acting up like this? You look away not being able to tame your hormones that are making you feel all giddy in the presence of a handsome stranger. 

“Is this your first time here? In this bar? I haven’t seen you around before.” he asks and you face him again. 

“Ah yeah. I am visiting Daegu for a family function and going back to Seoul tomorrow… so… enjoying some alone time, I suppose.” you don’t know why you are spilling up so many TMIs, when only a ‘yes’ could have worked perfectly. 

“I see. Nice to meet you Miss….” he raises one of his eyebrows playfully. 

“Y/N” you complete for him. 

“Yes. Y/N. I’m Min Yoongi.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Yoongi.” 

That night ended up with you withering under Yoongi while he pounded into you, with your fingers tangled up into his long dark hair that you liked so much. You loved everything about that night. You loved everything about Min Yoongi. Staring from his dark jeans and Nike shoes, the way his footsteps sounded on the hotel staircase, to the way his cock felt in your tight cunt, the way he sucked on your nipples and bit on them to make you whimper, the way he painted your skin with bruises that took days to disappear and especially the way his lips fit with yours as if they were made for each other. 

Next morning you woke up beside him with his body pressing into yours. You had to bid him goodbye in a haste since your bus was leaving within an hour. You regret not asking for his number or anything else other than his name. But then again, you were just his one night stand and he could have easily rejected your proposition. So it’s probably for the best. 

However, there’s not a single day you haven’t thought of him in these seven months. His face, his touches, his kisses keep coming back to you almost every time you close your eyes. And as a result, you are here, after seven damn months. You don’t even know if you are going to see him or not. And if you do, then you don’t even know if he will recognize you or not. And if he does then, you don’t even know if he will ignore you or not. 

You inhale sharply as you take another sip of your long island iced tea. 

“Welcome back… Y/N” and there it is, the voice you were craving to hear. The man that you are here for. You follow his voice and you see the man standing there with all of his glory, giving you one of his gummy smiles and taking all of your breath away. 

“Yoongi.” you smile back in awe. 

“Didn’t think I was going to see you again.” he says coming closer to you. 

“Neither did I.” you mutter. 

Silence settles between you two as you stare at each other for a few moments. 

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Yoongi questions. 

“Not really.” you answer. 

“Then.. would you like to go for a walk? By the beach?” 

“Sure.” 

“I don’t wanna freak you out but I couldn’t stop thinking of you since that night.” you murmur in between the kiss. The moonlit sea is roaring before you. 

“Neither could I. Why did you think Jimin called me as soon as you arrived at the bar?” Yoongi breathes out placing chaste kisses on your lips. 

“Jimin? The bartender? You know him personally?” you detach your mouth from his and look into his beautiful eyes. 

He gives you a small smile, “well, he is more like a friend and less like an employee.” 

“Employee? Wait- you own that bar?” you untangle your hands from his neck and try to stand straight only for him to push you back on the wall and press his body on yours even more. 

“Yes. and you are the first customer I have ever hit on since the birthday of my bar.” 

You giggle, “Really? Then I must be lucky.” 

“Maybe? Or maybe you just made me crazy?” Yoongi’s lips come closer to yours once more. 

“I did?” 

“I know it’s too soon to make promises but that one night wasn’t enough. I want to know you more, discover you more, fall for you more.” Yoongi whispers right into your month. 

"Yoongi-"

"Is it cool that I said all that? Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate." he cuts you off.

“What do you think I am here for Yoongi?” you ask him, “I want you just as much.” you seal your lips with his. 

This time the night ends with you watching the sun rise on the beach, standing barefoot on the sand as Yoongi wraps you from behind in a tight back hug while promising each other more than just nights from now on.

[seoulzie]

though his lens

WHEREIN: yeonjun sees a little bit of you through everything

彡 pairing: yeonjun x gn!reader 彡 genre: fluff 彡 warnings: none ><

SEUL SPEAKS! not that proud of this one :( lowk just a long ass drabble + not even proofread 💀

yeonjun wakes up to a rare day off, sunlight spilling through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. he stretches, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he thinks about how he’ll spend his day. his camera rests on the bedside table. today, he decides, he’ll immerse himself in his photography.

he starts his journey in a nearby park, the greenery a perfect canvas for his lens. the early morning air is crisp, and he captures the dew-kissed petals of a sunflower. as he frames the shot, he thinks of you—how sunflowers are your favorite. the image freezes in time.

wandering further into the city, he finds himself amidst the bustling streets of seoul. a market comes alive with colors and sounds, vendors calling out and people moving in every direction. he lifts his camera and snaps a shot of the crowd. it’s a bit blurry, the motion captured in a flurry of shapes and hues. yet, in the midst of the chaos, he sees a silhouette that reminds him of you. it’s as if you’re always there, a constant presence in his world.

as the day progresses, yeonjun meanders through narrow alleys and busy boulevards. he photographs everything that catches his eye—an old man feeding pigeons, a child chasing bubbles, the play of light and shadow on walls. each click of the shutter is a heartbeat.

by the time the sun begins to set, he finds himself at the han river. the golden hour bathes the city in a dreamy light, and he takes a moment to soak in the beauty. he captures the waters reflecting the pastel sky, the scene infused with a tranquil energy. it’s a peaceful end to his day, and he feels a deep sense of contentment.

returning home, he reviews the photos he took, each one a piece of his day, a piece of his thoughts. the sunflower, the crowd, the serene river—they’re all fragments of his love for you, woven into the fabric of his art. without uttering a word, he has chronicled a story of his day and his feelings for you.

as he prepares for bed, he places his camera back on the table, a gentle smile playing on his lips. he knows that tomorrow, and every day after, he’ll continue to find you in the world around him. you are, and always will be, his muse.

© 2024 seoulzie

[l33bang24]

OMG It’s You… (Part 10)

YouTube!Fem reader x Stray Kids

Summary: Y/N’s YouTube channel is taking off after her reactions to Stray Kids MV God’s Menu. Now she’s making videos nonstop along with working a full time job. What would happen if she got offered a job of a lifetime and met the boys of her succession?

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sadness, crying, early stages of homesickness??, Chan being turned on🤭, (lmk if I missed anything)

🏷️ : @laylasbunbunny @weirdowithaphone @silverstarburst @jusanontstuff @anxiousskylar @drewsandsebastianswife @amararosesblog @niaalove (Taglist open)

Series Masterlist

(Authors note at the end)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

Hearing my alarm clock, I roll over to shut it off. I had a surprisingly restful night's sleep, although I needed to take a second melatonin as the first one didn't help. Fortunately, the airport is conveniently located near my accommodation, and the journey there should only take about 5-10 minutes. After reviewing my flight details, I realized the total travel time would be almost 19 hours. Despite the long journey, I'm relieved there's only one layover before I board the second flight to Seoul.

As I start getting dressed and closing up all my bags, I take one last look around the room, which has brought me comfort and has been the starting point of my journey. Leaving behind a place with special memories is always a bittersweet moment. I know I could still come back and visit, but for now, this was goodbye. I smile, happy that I'm going outside my comfort zone to do something I'm passionate about. As I look around, I bring my bags to the front door.

I had to wake up earlier than planned because my flight was unexpectedly early. My family decided to get up with me to give me a proper send-off. The others were coming to the airport to say one last goodbye. I walked into the kitchen and found my grandmother preparing breakfast for everyone. Seeing my grandfather awake was a pleasant surprise, as his sleeping pattern is usually worse than mine.

“I made breakfast for all of us to eat for the last time together.” I smile at her and thank her for the food. “You know, maybe sometime after I get settled in, you can visit. See South Korea with me. I can also come home anytime I want.” I take her hand and his in mine, I reassure them, "I'm not disappearing forever. I promise to visit as much as I can." They hold on tighter, expressing their sadness at not always seeing me. "I'll have to show him how to FaceTime you," my grandmother says.

“Hey! I know how FaceTime works.”

“Oh really? Then where is it on your phone?”

“Same place it's always been in.” Their playful behavior never fails to bring a smile to my face. I think I'll miss this the most.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I prepared to leave, my family gathered to spend some final moments with me. One by one, they came up to say their heartfelt goodbyes.“Hey, Y/N/N, you better not be a stranger now. I don’t want to come there myself to teach you a lesson.” I roll my eyes at my stepbrother’s goodbye. “I love you too, man.” My stepsister is next to come up and hug me. “Send me pictures, yeah? And let me know if you meet any cute guys over there. I wanna know all about it!” I smile, her not knowing I’m already talking to two of them. “Hey now! If you meet any guys, I’mma need their information. That means their name, date of birth, social security number, everything!”

“I’m not giving you anything!” I retort back to my stepbrother. He, in return, shakes his head. My grandparents come up next, giving me their hugs and goodbyes. “Make sure you don’t eat a lot of junk food; you must maintain weight and stay healthy.”

“I will, Nanny; I love you.” She smiles, giving me a tight hug for a small woman. “You take good care of yourself. Since we won’t always have you to help us, Y/B/N must do it for us.” At that comment, my stepbrother exploded, saying how he gets left with my responsibilities of caring for my grandparents and how I need to come back more often to help them. I ignore him and move on to my grandfather.

“You stay safe now, okay? I want you to be able to defend yourself in case someone breaks into your apartment. Do you have your stuff?” I nod, telling him I do and giving him a big hug. I am telling him to take care of himself, and if he ever feels up to it, maybe I can get him and my grandmother a trip over to see me. My dad comes up and pulls me into a hug.

“I want you to call me when you get there, okay? So that way, I know you made it there safely.” My dad tells me. I smile, “I’ll call you when I get there, but you have to remember that I’ll be in a different time zone, so it may be late into the early morning hours before I call.”

“I don't care what time it is; as long as I get a phone call from my baby that she’s okay, I’ll be happy.” I hug him long and hard. Being one of my biggest supporters since I was little, it’s hard to say goodbye to him. I could feel my tears starting to surface. Last is my stepmom; she’s already got tears in her eyes, and mine is beginning to fall. She pulls me into a hug, and the water dam breaks.

As I realize that I won't get to see these amazing people every day, doubts start creeping in about whether this was the right decision in the first place.

When she pulls back, it’s like she’s reading my mind. “I understand that it can be daunting to think about not seeing us every day. However, if you don't step out of your comfort zone, you'll never be able to explore the world as you've always wanted. You will surely be missed, and although your dad and I are homebodies, we'll come to visit you. We love you immensely and want nothing but the best for you. It's time to chase your dreams and become the person you've always wanted to be.” I nod my head and give her a tight hug.

I release her and gather my belongings, taking my first steps toward my new future. As I walk away, I look back at my family again. A stray tear rolled down my cheek as I bid them farewell with a wave. I turn back, holding my head high. I've committed myself to the fact that no matter what challenges come my way, I will never give up on pursuing my dream. Although my heart aches now, I know it will slowly heal with time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Welcome to Seoul, South Korea! It is currently 2:30 pm on August 16th.” My sleepiness drowned out the rest of the words. I usually don't sleep on planes, but I did this time. I grab my bag from above, leave the aircraft, and move towards the baggage area. Once receiving my luggage, I headed toward the exit, stopping to find something to eat since all I'd had were airplane snacks.

I discovered a cozy restaurant with a promising menu and went to a table, taking a seat to enjoy my meal. I eagerly indulged, savoring each bite as if it were my last. It was a relief to have some time before officially starting my new job the following week, allowing me to settle in and get organized. While I've already started my new job, I don't have to be on-site until next week.

I had compiled a list of essential tasks, including unpacking, stocking up on groceries, and setting up my new apartment. At that moment, my next priority was to arrange for an Uber to take me to the apartment complex where I would be staying.

After finishing my meal, I disposed of the food container and took out my phone to track the arrival of the Uber. I made a mental note to call my Dad once I reached the apartment. When the Uber arrived, I confirmed the driver's name, and they assisted me in loading my luggage into the vehicle.

I provided them with the address, and upon reaching my destination, I expressed my gratitude and proceeded inside to complete the check-in process. The attendant was incredibly friendly, and the paperwork was swiftly handled, allowing me to receive my keys promptly. I lugged my belongings into the elevator and ascended to the fourth floor.

As I reached my apartment door, I eagerly swung it open and lugged all my belongings inside. After securing the lock, a deep sigh escaped my lips. The long flight had left me utterly drained. I quickly dialed my dad's number and left a voicemail, letting him know I had arrived safely. Collapsing onto the nearby couch, I felt the exhaustion wash over me.

Although the temptation to drift off to sleep was strong, I knew I had things to take care of. I reluctantly pushed myself off the comfortable couch, picked up my luggage, and carried it to my room. I was fortunate to have found a spacious two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment with a convenient washer and dryer combo.

I surveyed the array of living essentials I had recently acquired, realizing that I also needed to stock up on groceries. Choosing to address this need immediately, I retrieved my purse and keys and left my apartment, locking the door behind me. Having previously researched nearby markets, I headed to the closest one and embarked on a shopping trip that lasted 30 minutes to an hour.

Upon returning home with bags of groceries, I meticulously organized and stored each item in the kitchen. Subsequently, I assembled the furniture and set up my home office, methodically putting together the bed, nightstand, and desk. As I progressed through these tasks, everything seemed to fall into place seamlessly. However, as the day turned to evening and fatigue began, I succumbed to exhaustion.

After ensuring the door was securely locked, I went to the shower. I was thankful I had taken a shower earlier, as I was too tired to rewash my hair that night. Following my usual evening routine, I finally collapsed into bed. Before drifting off to sleep, I sent a good night message to my family, locked my phone, and surrendered to the beckoning of slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week flew by, and I was pleased to find that the rest of my belongings had arrived in the same condition as when they were picked up. I made a mental note to thank the CEO of the moving company for their excellent service. My coworkers kindly came over to assist me in moving all the furniture upstairs and arranging it in the best possible positions.

I appreciated the support of others as I tackled the challenge before me. It was satisfying to see everything arranged just as I had envisioned. Adapting to the time change this week has been quite a feat. It's a new experience for me, and although it's been difficult, I'm confident I'll adapt in due time. I've taken the opportunity to explore, but I've been cautious as I don't know anyone here. Watching crime shows has made me more vigilant about my surroundings, and I'm hesitant to engage with unfamiliar individuals.

I could sense that the guys were starting to get suspicious of me because I'd changed my usual texting routine and avoided their calls. I know I'm not improving things, but I have a video next week to explain what's happening. I'm just holding out until the video is ready to be released. Until then, they will have to wait a bit longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Third Person POV

The men had every reason to feel wary. It seemed as though she was privy to information that they were not. The other members could sense the shift in their elders, but none were willing to confront the issue. They chose to ignore the obvious problem rather than address it. Chan decided to step aside and call Y/N. He hadn't informed any of the others, especially Minho. He felt guilty for concealing such an innocent action but wanted to keep this secret longer.

Y/N had been behaving unusually lately. She confided in him that she was going through some changes that were causing her stress and exhaustion. He was concerned but didn't want to pressure her. When she answered his call after the second ring, she sounded cheerful as always. "Hi, Channie!" she greeted him with a tone that flushed his face at the affectionate nickname. "Hey, Y/Nnnie, how have you been? I haven't heard from you much," he inquired. Her laughter on the other end was sweet and infectious. "I'm doing fine. I was actually on my way to work," she replied. Confusion crossed his face. 'Work? Shouldn’t she be in bed by now?’ he inquires.

Not realizing she was calling for him. "What do you mean work? I thought you would be in bed by now?" Y/N freezes as she realizes her mistake. She berates herself, thinking, 'Stupid, stupid, stupid,' while hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Ah, well, I'm not uhh… I mean, I am I….URGHHH!” The moment her brain decides to take a break is precisely when she needs it the most. Chan is completely bewildered now, eagerly waiting for her response.

After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she finally admits something. “Look, there may have been some major changes in my life right now, and I wanted to surprise you when the time was right. I have a video coming out today that will explain everything. That's all I can tell you.” Chan nods his head, then forgets he isn't FaceTiming her. “Okay, love. I'll be patient and wait for your video. Afterward, I expect no more hiding things, okay?”

“Yes, sir, you have my word.” Chan shouldn't have been affected by those words, but coming from her, it felt like a shock just went through his body. “Anyways, I have to go, Channie; we’ll talk later, yeah?” After they said their goodbyes, Chan returned to the room with a huge smile and a semi-hard in his pants.

(A/N: I couldn't help myself; I had to do it. Also, I put in a sad, departing moment with the family. I hope you all enjoyed it and look forward to the next chapter!)

[twice-inamillion]

Member Practice

Angst (morning sickness)

Chapter 201

1.1 K Words

(Sana stressed and morning sickness)

Another busy week. The members have been reviewing the choreography for this tour’s set list after experiencing a few mistakes during the Seoul concert. Today is no exception.

Footsteps are heard early in the morning; Sana rushes from her room and towards the bathroom. In front of her is Momo, who is opening the door and is about to go inside but is stopped by Sana, who is holding her hand over her mouth. She slams the door, lifts the toilet cover and drops on her knees, and hurls. “Sana, are you okay?” ask Momo as she slightly knocks at the door. Mina comes out of her room from the noise of the door being slammed, “What’s going on?” “Sana cut me off and is inside the room; I think she’s throwing up.” Mina walks towards the door, places her ear against the door, and tries to hear what is going on the other side of the door, “Sana unnie, are you okay?” All she could hear was hurling, and gaging sounds coming from the other side. It doesn’t take long until she hears the flushing of the toilet and the noise of the sink running. Out comes Sana with a paper towel in her hand, “Sorry, Momo, I just really had to use the restroom.” “Morning sickness?” asks Mina. “Yeah, it’s been bad lately. Comes and goes at random.” “It doesn’t seem right; I didn’t have much when I was pregnant. Why don’t you take the day off and rest? Don’t think the rest would mind if you take it easy.” “No, it's okay. Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll be okay.” “Are you sure?” asked Mina. “Yeah, I just going back to the room and lay down for a bit.”

————- The members arrive at the company training room and begin with the first choreography.

The first song is done perfectly, and we move on to the next one. The members are excited to move on, but Sana, on the other hand, is secretly already having a hard time just keeping up. With the next song, she begins to lag and make simple mistakes that the members notice. “Stop, play from the beginning,” to which Tzuyu pauses the music coming from the computer’s playlist. “5,6,7, 8” says Jihyo, and they begin from the top.

Only a couple of seconds in, the choreography is out of sync, “No, stop, stop, the music,” and Tzuyu walks back and turns it off. “What’s going on? It’s the second song, and we’re already having problems. Come on, girls.” The members look at each other and apologize to each other, and start again from the beginning. They finish the second song with fewer mistakes than the first two times and move on to the next one. “Okay, next one is “Dance the Night Away. Five, six, seven, eight..” and the music begins to play. Sana tries to keep up with the fast pace of the music but is a couple of seconds behind from the rest, “Oh, no. Please, not again,” as she feels the sudden urge to hurl.” The sudden movements make her feel unwell, and she tries to hang on as much as she can, but unfortunately, she can’t and leaves the practice midway in a hurry, covering her mouth.

The members look at each other in surprise as Mina follows Sana. “What happened? asks Tzuyu. “She wasn’t feeling well in the morning but said that she was okay before we practiced,” says Momo. The members talk amongst each other, trying to determine if Sana is okay. A few minutes later, Sana returns with a pale look, holding Mina’s hand. The members rush to Sana, trying to comfort her, “How do you feel? Are you okay? Do you want to rest a bit more?” Instead, Sana backs up and bows multiple times, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The members are surprised and immediately try to get Sana back up. “Sana unnie, you don’t need to apologize. We know that you’re pregnant, and it can be hard for you. Please get up, unnie.”

They could see Sana get even more emotional, “I’m holding you, girls, back; I keep on messing up the routine. I even ran out mid-performance.” Sana can’t hold her cry any longer and begins to bawl. “You’re not holdings us back. It’s just practice, don’t take it too seriously. You know we love you no matter what,” says Nayeon. “Bu…but… I made a lot of mistakes during our last concert, I made us look bad in front of Once.” “Yeah, she did step on my foot twice that night,” says Chaeyoung as a joke. The members turn around and glare at Chaeyoung. Tzuyu and Jeongyeon approach her and smack her in the back of the head. “It’s not funny, Chaeyoung,” glares Mina to Chae, causing her to become silent. Nayeon hugs Sana, “How about we all rest for a bit and return later? Maybe some of us go out to get some drinks while the rest of you rest. With the member in agreement, the younger line go out to a nearby cafe. Nayeon and Jeongyeon have Sana in their arms, cuddling her like a little baby. They wipe the tears off her face as she closes her eyes for a quick nap. After falling asleep, some of the members ask each other if they have noticed any changes in Sana these past few weeks. “Well, I did notice her going over some of the fancam videos and our practice videos more intensely, but didn’t think much about it” said Jeongyeon. She has been staying longer in the practice room, but it didn’t seem like she was worried about her mistakes. I just thought she wanted some alone time,” said Momo. “She must have been really self-conscious about her performance. Why didn’t she tell us anything? That she was having a hard time? We could of helped her,” said Nayeon. “Most likely, she did not want to make us worry. You know how Sana is; she doesn’t like showing her feelings, especially when she’s upset,” said Jihyo. “We need to watch over her, especially now that she’s pregnant. We can’t have her s; its too much or over practice, it might be bad for her,” says Nayeon. The members agree and watch her sleeping until the other members come back. Once the rest of the members arrive, they enjoy their drinks and continue their break before returning to practice. They end up choosing an easier song to end with. Their day ends early, and they go back home, ensuring that they keep an eye on Sana to ensure she feels okay.