pairing: jeongwoo x gn!reader (i hope... i tried to be as neutral as possible)
synopsis: you live in a world where everyone has a soulmate. and park jeongwoo isn't yours. but that doesn't stop you from falling in love with each other. soulmateAU (kinda), angst with a happy ending, slight smut (not super explicit but yeah still smut) minors dni, non-idol, probably very inconsistent sry
word count: 4k~
a/n: my first request!!
The world had always revolved around soulmates.
When two destined people touched, something undeniable happened: the air filled with shimmering light, objects around them bent toward each other like magnets, sometimes even music played from nowhere. It was different for everyone, but always visible, always undeniable. Proof that fate was real. Proof that some people belonged together.
It was supposed to be beautiful.
But you never liked the way people treated it like law. Like free will didn’t matter. Like falling in love outside of it wasn’t just unusual—it was wrong.
You had grown up watching friends chase the thrill of their “signs,” practicing handshakes just to see if the spark would come. Your parents weren’t soulmates, and you loved that about them. They were proof that choosing each other every day was just as valid, maybe more. Still, you felt the pressure more and more as you got older. Everyone asked: What will your sign be? When will you find them?
You didn’t have an answer. You weren’t even sure you wanted one.
...
It was raining the night you met Jeongwoo.
Not the soft kind of drizzle that could be romanticized, but a full summer downpour that chased people from the streets into any shelter they could find. You darted into the nearest café, hair plastered to your forehead, clutching your tote bag like it was a lifeline. The place was already crowded with others escaping the storm.
The last free seat was at a two-top table where a boy was hunched over a notebook, sketching something between sips of an iced Americano. He looked up as you hovered uncertainly.
“You can sit,” he said, sliding his bag from the chair. His voice was warm, deeper than you expected for someone with such soft features.
“Thanks,” you breathed, dropping into the seat.
For a while, you just sat there, catching your breath. When you finally glanced at him, he was watching the rain, pen tapping against his notebook. His profile was sharp, nose straight, lips curved slightly as if he were lost in thought.
You didn’t mean to stare, but he caught you. And instead of looking away, he smiled.
“Rough day?” he asked.
You laughed nervously. “Is it that obvious?”
“A little.” He leaned back, easygoing. “I’m Jeongwoo.”
And just like that, your world shifted. Not with sparks, not with the soulmate sign. Just… a feeling.
...
The first thing you learned about him was that he was an artist. He showed you the notebook when you asked—it was full of small sketches of everyday things: the barista, the dripping window, a pair of abandoned umbrellas. He had a way of seeing beauty where most people saw nothing.
You found yourself telling him things you usually kept private. That you hated how everyone made soulmates sound like the only kind of love worth having. That you were scared of losing yourself in someone else’s fate.
He didn’t laugh. He just nodded, thoughtful. “I get that. I think… I don’t want to be told who to love either.”
It felt like someone had reached into your chest and squeezed your heart.
The storm kept you there until closing, and when you both stepped outside into the damp streets, you exchanged numbers without hesitation.
...
The second thing you learned was that Jeongwoo was persistent.
Not in an overbearing way—just… consistent. He texted you good mornings, asked if you’d eaten, sent photos of random things that reminded him of you. He invited you to art exhibits, night walks, late-night snack runs. Somewhere along the way, you stopped worrying about whether this was temporary.
Somewhere along the way, you started falling.
It was terrifying. You had no idea if you were supposed to. But it was also intoxicating.
...
The first time your hands brushed, you both froze.
You were reaching for the same paintbrush at a small art store. The pads of your fingers touched his knuckles.
Nothing happened.
No glow, no music, no magnetic pull. Just skin against skin.
The disappointment on his face cut deep, though he tried to hide it. You felt it too, the sharp sting of reality intruding. But then, slowly, Jeongwoo laced his fingers through yours anyway.
“So what?” he murmured. “I don’t care.”
Your heart nearly burst.
...
Falling in love with him was a thousand small things: The way he pressed his cheek against your shoulder during long bus rides. The way he sang under his breath when he thought no one was listening. The way he remembered exactly how you liked your coffee, always.
It was also big things: The first time he kissed you, tentative but sure, outside the café where you met. The first time he said, “I don’t want to know who my soulmate is. I already found what I want.”
You believed him. Against all logic, you believed him.
...
It started innocently. A movie at his apartment, both of you sprawled on the floor, surrounded by half-empty snacks. He was laughing at something you said, head tilted back, throat exposed. You couldn’t stop staring.
When his laughter faded, he caught your gaze. His eyes darkened.
“You’re looking at me like that,” he said softly.
“Like what?” Your voice was unsteady.
“Like you want me.”
Heat flushed through you. “And if I do?”
He moved before you finished the question, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was urgent, messy, all teeth and need. You clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groaned into your mouth.
It escalated fast. Clothes discarded, bodies pressed together on the floor. His skin was hot against yours, his hands mapping you like he’d been waiting forever.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, breath ragged, lips brushing your ear.
“Yes,” you gasped. “Please, Jeongwoo.”
The way he kissed you then—slow, reverent—made your chest ache. Like even if the universe didn’t write you into his story, he was going to carve the words himself.
When he finally pushed into you, both of you cried out. It was overwhelming, not just physically but emotionally. Every thrust felt like defiance, like a declaration: We choose each other.
After, tangled in his sheets, he traced lazy circles on your back.
“I don’t care what anyone says,” he murmured. “You’re it for me.”
You pressed your lips to his chest, over his racing heartbeat. “Me too.”
And for that night, at least, fate didn’t matter.
...
The days after that night blurred into something warm and steady, like waking up to sunshine you didn’t know you needed.
You and Jeongwoo built a rhythm. He’d leave sketches on your nightstand when he left early for class. You’d tuck snacks into his backpack before his late shifts at the café. You learned how he liked his toast—slightly burnt, slathered with strawberry jam. He learned you hated sleeping without music playing softly in the background.
It wasn’t glamorous. It was domestic. Messy. Perfect.
...
You weren’t the only one in his life.
Jeongwoo had a circle of friends who quickly folded you in: Haruto, tall and endlessly sarcastic, who teased Jeongwoo mercilessly but always paid for everyone’s food without complaint. Jihoon, the “responsible” one, though his definition of responsible included late-night karaoke sessions. Yoshi, soft-spoken but sharp-eyed, who caught every detail others missed.
They accepted you easily. Too easily, sometimes—you suspected Jeongwoo had already been talking about you long before you met them.
And then there was your best friend, Minji.
Minji had been with you through everything—middle school crushes, first heartbreaks, college applications. She was bold where you were cautious, outspoken where you hesitated. When you finally introduced her to Jeongwoo, she eyed him critically for a full minute before cracking a grin.
“I like him,” she announced, clapping him on the back. “Don’t screw it up.”
Jeongwoo laughed, but you noticed the flicker of relief in his expression. He cared what your best friend thought.
...
For a while, it felt like nothing could touch you. But the world had a way of reminding you that you weren’t playing by its rules.
It happened at a dinner with some of Jeongwoo’s classmates. Someone asked, casually, if you two had shown your soulmate sign yet.
“No,” Jeongwoo said evenly, fingers tightening around yours under the table. “We haven’t.”
The girl blinked. “Oh. So… you’re not—?”
“We don’t need a sign,” Jeongwoo cut in, sharper this time.
The table went awkwardly silent. You smiled tightly, but inside, something twisted.
Later, on the walk home, you finally said it. “Does it bother you? That we don’t have a sign?”
He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Rain had just fallen, and the air smelled like asphalt and earth. He turned to you, eyes steady.
“No. Because I don’t care about fate. I care about you.”
His conviction should have soothed you. And it did, mostly. But a small, guilty part of you still wondered: What if fate cared enough to interfere?
...
You and Jeongwoo became known for your “couple quirks.” He drew doodles on your arms with pen when you were bored in class. You baked cookies at 1 a.m. because he claimed studying made him “spiritually hungry.” You both collected little trinkets from your outings—ticket stubs, pressed flowers, a keychain shaped like a duck.
Sometimes, when Minji was around, she teased you about how disgustingly domestic you’d become.
“I leave you alone for a week, and suddenly you’re baking bread and grocery shopping together?” she groaned, flopping onto your couch.
“Don’t knock it until you try it,” you shot back.
She smirked. “Maybe I will.”
Jeongwoo brought her tea without being asked, and you noticed how easily they slipped into banter. It warmed you. These were your two favorite people, and they were getting along.
...
But the questions kept coming. From strangers, acquaintances, even family:
“Are you sure?”
“What if you meet your real soulmate someday?”
“Won’t it hurt?”
You hated those questions. You hated that sometimes, late at night when Jeongwoo was asleep beside you, you asked them yourself.
One night, you admitted it.
“What if your soulmate shows up?” you whispered into the dark.
Jeongwoo stirred, half-asleep. “Then I’ll tell them no. Because I already chose you.”
It should have been enough. You wanted it to be enough.
So you buried the fear.
...
It wasn’t planned, but neither of you held back.
You’d spent the whole day wandering the city—bookstores, street food, an impromptu arcade battle where Jeongwoo somehow destroyed you at every game. By the time you got back to his apartment, you were both buzzing with laughter and sugar.
He kissed you the moment the door closed, pressing you against it, lips hot and insistent. You giggled into his mouth, but the sound melted into a moan when his hands slid under your shirt.
“Bedroom,” you gasped.
He carried you there, kissing you like he was starving, like the world might end if he didn’t. Clothes scattered across the floor, skin meeting skin, both of you breathless.
This time, it wasn’t just urgent—it was tender too. He took his time, mapping every inch of you with his mouth, his hands, his whispered words.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone.
“You’re mine,” you breathed back, tangling your fingers in his hair.
When he finally slid into you, it was slow, deliberate, like he wanted you to feel every second. You clutched at him, overwhelmed, whispering his name like a prayer.
Afterward, lying tangled in sheets damp with sweat, Jeongwoo kissed your forehead.
“If this is wrong,” he whispered, “then I don’t ever want to be right.”
You closed your eyes, pretending that was enough to drown out the nagging voice of fate.
...
Minji started coming around more often. Study sessions, late-night talks, group hangouts with Jeongwoo and his friends. You loved it. You loved her. But sometimes, you noticed things you didn’t want to notice.
The way her laugh seemed to light up a room. The way Jeongwoo looked genuinely relaxed around her. The way people sometimes mistook them for siblings or closer.
You told yourself you were imagining it. That it was just insecurity.
Until one afternoon at the café, when Minji bumped into Jeongwoo’s hand while reaching for her drink.
Nothing happened.
But the way Jeongwoo froze, the split-second flicker of something unreadable on his face, sent a chill down your spine.
You brushed it off. You had to. Because the alternative was unthinkable.
...
For now, life went on. You studied, worked, loved, laughed. You built a world with Jeongwoo brick by brick, even as you feared the ground might not hold.
And somewhere in the shadows, fate waited.
...
It happened on an ordinary afternoon.
No cosmic setup, no cinematic music. Just sunlight slanting through Minji’s kitchen window, a plate of half-eaten tteokbokki on the counter, and laughter echoing as you, Jeongwoo, and Minji flipped through old photos.
You’d gone to the bathroom. When you came back, they were standing close, reaching for the same photo at the same time.
Their hands brushed.
And the world changed.
The air shimmered, like heat waves rising from pavement. The plate rattled on the counter, and for a breathless second, music—soft, lilting—seemed to hum from nowhere. A golden glow spread across their skin where they touched, undeniable, impossible to mistake.
You froze in the doorway.
It was the sign.
The universe had spoken.
Jeongwoo’s eyes went wide. Minji gasped, yanking her hand back like she’d been burned. The glow flickered, then vanished. But the silence left in its wake was deafening.
You couldn’t breathe.
None of you spoke at first. Minji stared at the floor, trembling. Jeongwoo’s gaze snapped to you, panic flooding his face.
“Wait,” he choked out. “It’s not—It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Your throat burned. “That was the sign, Jeongwoo. Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying!” He took a step toward you, then stopped when you flinched back. His hands curled helplessly. “Yes, it happened, but—I don’t want her. I want you.”
The words should have soothed you. But the image of that glow replayed in your mind, relentlessly. Fate had chosen. And it hadn’t chosen you.
Minji finally spoke, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t,” you snapped, sharper than you intended. The look on her face gutted you instantly, but you couldn’t bear it. Not now.
You left.
...
Jeongwoo tried.
He texted, called, waited outside your apartment. He begged you to talk, to listen, to let him explain.
But what was there to explain? You had seen it with your own eyes.
Minji avoided you completely. The silence from her—your best friend, your sister in everything but blood—was somehow worse than Jeongwoo’s desperate messages.
At night, you lay awake, replaying everything. His words: I don’t care about fate. I care about you. Your own fears: What if your soulmate shows up?
You thought you were prepared. You thought love could defy destiny. But when faced with proof, your resolve cracked.
And it hurt. God, it hurt.
...
It was raining again the night Jeongwoo finally cornered you.
You’d slipped out for groceries, hood up, head down. But he was waiting outside your building, soaked through, eyes wild.
“Please,” he begged, voice raw. “Talk to me.”
You wanted to scream at him, hit him, hold him—anything to release the storm inside you. Instead, you shoved past him. “Go home, Jeongwoo.”
“No!” His hand shot out, catching yours. For a split second, fear stabbed through you—what if it happened again?—but nothing stirred. No glow. No music. Just his trembling grip.
“Don’t you get it?” His voice cracked. “Yes, Minji is my soulmate. But I don’t want her. I love you. Isn’t that enough?”
Tears blurred your vision. “It’s not that simple!”
“Why not? Who cares what the universe says?” His breath hitched. “I chose you. I’ll keep choosing you, even if it kills me.”
You yanked your hand free, clutching it to your chest. “But what if she doesn’t give up? What if one day you can’t fight it anymore?”
His face broke. “Then you don’t know me at all.”
You couldn’t answer. You turned and fled, his voice calling your name into the rain.
...
Days became weeks.
You threw yourself into work, into anything that wasn’t thinking about Jeongwoo. But he was everywhere. The café where you met. The songs he hummed under his breath. The sketches tucked into your drawers that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away.
Minji finally reached out.
Her message was short: I never wanted this. I’m not going to take him from you. But I don’t know how to face you either. I’m sorry.
You stared at it for hours before replying: I need time.
It was true. But it didn’t stop the loneliness from clawing at you.
...
The breaking point came late one night. You were drunk, stumbling home from drinks with coworkers, when you found yourself outside Jeongwoo’s building.
Your heart pounded. You shouldn’t be here. You knew you shouldn’t.
But your body moved anyway, feet carrying you up the stairs, hand trembling as you knocked.
When he opened the door, he looked like hell. Eyes bloodshot, hair a mess, wearing the same hoodie you’d seen him in a hundred times.
“...You came,” he whispered.
Something inside you shattered. You surged forward, kissing him like you were drowning. He kissed back instantly, desperately, hands clutching at you like you might vanish.
Clothes fell, tears mixed with sweat, and the night blurred into a haze of pain and passion. It wasn’t the tender kind of love you’d shared before. It was frantic, raw, like trying to stitch a wound closed with your bare hands.
After, you lay tangled on his bed, chest heaving. Neither of you spoke. Because you both knew this wasn’t a solution. It was a bandage on a bullet wound.
When dawn came, you slipped out before he woke.
...
That night became both a comfort and a curse. You couldn’t stop thinking about it—the way he held you like you were his lifeline, the way you clung to him like he was yours.
But you also couldn’t ignore reality. He had a soulmate. And no matter how many times he swore it didn’t matter, the world would never let you forget.
Rumors started. Someone had seen the glow between him and Minji. Whispers spread: He’s with the wrong person. She’s keeping him from his real soulmate.
You heard them everywhere. You felt their judgment in every glance.
It wore you down. It wore him down too.
Fights erupted—short, sharp, fueled by exhaustion and fear.
“Why won’t you believe me?” he snapped one night.
“Because the whole world is against us!” you shouted back.
“Then let it be us against the world!”
“And what if we lose?”
The silence after that was worse than the shouting.
...
It ended—not officially, but in every way that mattered—when you told him you couldn’t do it anymore.
Your voice shook as you said it. His face crumpled like paper, and for a moment you thought he might collapse.
“If you walk away now,” he whispered, “you’ll break me.”
You sobbed. “You’ll survive. You’ll find someone who won’t have to fight fate to love you.”
He grabbed your shoulders, desperation radiating from him. “But I don’t want someone else. I want you.”
You kissed him one last time, salty with tears. Then you left.
And this time, you didn’t look back.
...
The world felt emptier without him. Every sunrise, every quiet moment, every little domestic ritual you’d built together—it all ached.
But you told yourself it was for the best. That love wasn’t always enough. That sometimes, the universe won.
Still, deep down, a part of you whispered: What if we fight anyway? What if we make our own ending?
...
The days after the truth splintered were the hardest of your life.
Every time you caught your best friend’s eyes across campus, guilt pressed down like lead. The universe had made them matches, and everyone else seemed to think that meant something sacred. Jeongwoo tried to smile in public, but you could see the cracks—how his hands shook when he tucked them into his hoodie, how the lilt in his laugh never reached his eyes.
For a while, they tried to distance themselves. You threw yourself into your best friend’s routines— movie nights, shared classes, study sessions— but every touch felt heavy, like someone else’s skin. Jeongwoo avoided you both, retreating into the studio late at night, voice growing hoarse from endless takes.
Until one evening, when you couldn’t take it anymore.
The rain came down in sheets as she ran to the small practice room Jeongwoo haunted, sneakers squeaking against the wooden floor. He was there, slumped against the mirror, sweat-dark hair clinging to his forehead, chest heaving like he’d been dancing his lungs out.
You dropped your bag and whispered, “I can’t pretend anymore.”
His head snapped up, eyes glassy. “You think I can?” His voice cracked. “I’m supposed to be Minji’s. Every sign points to her. But my heart—” His fists curled. “My heart won’t stop pointing to you.”
You knelt, cupping his jaw. His skin was damp, fever-warm. “Jeongwoo, I don’t care what the universe says. I don’t want easy. I don’t want destined. I want you.”
The moment stretched, thunder rolling outside. And then he surged forward, kissing you like a starving man.
This kiss was different. No careful sweetness, no hesitation. Desperate, raw, almost bruising in how much he needed you. Your bodies tangled against the mirror, breathless and wet with rain when your soaked hoodie fell away, when his trembling hands slid under your shirt like he couldn’t believe you were real.
Your clothes came off in pieces, damp fabric peeling away until skin pressed to skin. The mirror fogged behind you, your reflections blurring as Jeongwoo lifted your thighs around his waist, grinding until you gasped.
“Say it,” he begged against your neck. “Say you’re mine. No one else's. Mine.”
You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging hard. “Yours, Jeongwoo. Always yours.”
He pushed into you with a groan that echoed in the empty practice room, and for a moment, the world shrank to nothing but the slide of their bodies, the slap of skin, the heat and ache and fire that came from finally surrendering. Your moans melted into the storm outside, thunder masking the rhythm of your desperate need.
Afterward, slick and shuddering, you collapsed against his chest. He held you tight like he was afraid you’d disappear.
...
The world didn’t make it easy. Your friends questioned. Your peers whispered. But your best friend—who had every right to claim him—stared with fondness for her friends.
Your best friend only said softly, “If he makes you happy, then fight for him. Just don’t break yourselves in the process.”
That blessing was enough.
Jeongwoo met you under the Han River bridge, where streetlights blurred into gold across black water. He reached for your hand, hesitant. This time, you didn’t let go.
“Everyone says soulmates are fate,” you murmured. “But I think we just proved them wrong.”
His smile was quiet but fierce. “Then it’s us against the world.”
...
Months later, they had built a rhythm. Domestic mornings where you stole his hoodies and burned the toast. Nights curled together, studying lyrics or scrolling dramas until dawn. The universe had chosen another path for you, but you chose each other again and again.
One evening, as Jeongwoo rested his head on your lap, he whispered, “Maybe we weren’t born soulmates. But maybe we became them.”
You bent to kiss his hair, heart swelling with something larger than destiny. “Yeah,” you said. “Our own kind of forever.”
And the world—loud, judgmental, insistent—faded into background noise.
Because Jeongwoo was yours, and you were his. Not because of fate, but because you fought for it.
mr. boo: coffee, campaigns, and confessions / b.sk
pairing: marketing manager!seungkwan x brand & promotions coordinator!reader
synopsis: You and Seungkwan work behind the scenes at Sebong Corporation, a bustling movie production company. When you're assigned to co-lead the marketing campaign for Eclipse Rising—the studio’s most high-profile release yet—your already-close working relationship takes center stage. Through morning coffee runs, chaotic brainstorming sessions, late-night strategy meetings, and a surprisingly sweet team-building retreat, your friendship deepens into something more.
fluff, slight crack, coworkers-to-lovers
word count: 3.3k
a/n: so so honored to be a part of THAT'S SHOWBIZ, BABY! plz go read everyone else's amazing works!! thanks so much for this opportunity @studioeisa @diamonddaze01
It’s 9:03 a.m. on a Monday, and Y/N walks into the office with their usual iced coffee in one hand, messenger bag slung over one shoulder, and a grimace that says “weekend over.” Sebong Corporation is buzzing already, caffeinated on anticipation and anxiety—Eclipse Rising, their biggest movie release of the year, is officially four weeks from premiere, and the entire floor feels like it’s holding its breath.
Y/N slides into their desk chair, still a little too early for the flood of people who usually arrive fashionably ten minutes late. The inbox pings.
Then pings again. And again.
By the time they sip their coffee, there are twelve emails from one person: Boo Seungkwan.
Subject lines include:
"TRAILER 2 CRISIS 🔥"
"URGENT: Kael’s Hair Looks Flat??"
"Do we need more STARS in the POSTER??? ✨"
"Emergency: Space font too... spacey?"
"we are LITERALLY in a timeline where Vernon is saving the galaxy and no one is prepared"
Y/N smiles despite themselves and starts replying, the muscle memory automatic.
From: Y/[email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: Kael's Hair
Have confirmed with the stylist team: Vernon’s hair is not flat, just dramatically windswept. Intended. Maybe you’re the one feeling flat?
A few more clicks:
Subject: Space font
The space font is just futuristic enough. We're not sending viewers back to the Jetsons.
Subject: Poster stars
Adding more stars now would make it look like Vernon is inside a disco ball. Let's aim for "epic saga," not "space prom."
A soft thunk sounds behind Y/N. They turn slightly to see a head of natural bleach blond hair pop up over the cubicle divider.
"You’re lucky you’re cute in your emails," Seungkwan says, side-eyeing you.
"And you’re lucky I don’t charge for emotional labor."
Seungkwan swings around into Y/N’s cubicle and perches on the edge of their desk like he owns the place. He’s in an oversized cardigan over a bright graphic tee that says "HYPERSPACE IS A MINDSET."
"Do you know how hard it is to manage a teaser campaign when the editor thinks all lens flares are necessary?"
"Didn’t you say last week you wanted more lens flares?"
"Yes, but strategically. Tastefully! With restraint!"
Y/N hands him the backup iced americano they grabbed just in case. He accepts it wordlessly, clearly touched.
"You do love me," he says.
"Let’s call it self-preservation."
Their screens glow with the digital storm they’re navigating—press kits, trailer drop schedules, influencer lists. The Eclipse Rising campaign is ambitious: three trailers, six teaser posts, a limited-edition poster release, and a global hashtag activation. And that’s just this week.
Seungkwan opens a shared document titled “Viral Assets (PLEASE NO ONE DELETE THIS).”
"What if we launch the countdown with a galactic horoscope thread? Like: Lyra is rising in the house of heartbreak. Captain Kael says run."
Y/N tilts their head. "That’s kind of genius."
"You’re legally required to say that."
"No, I say it when you actually earn it. Which happens. Occasionally."
Seungkwan grins, sipping his drink. "I’m writing that. You inspired me."
They’re quiet for a moment, both typing furiously into different parts of the same document. Every so often Seungkwan hums or gasps dramatically, like the creative muses have grabbed him by the collar. Y/N, for all their cool efficiency, finds it... endearing.
At 10:10, a Slack message arrives.
Seungkwan: Should we do a TikTok of Vernon in the space suit trying Earth food?? "Captain Kael eats a hot dog" kind of thing???
Y/N: Only if he also tries boba.
Seungkwan: this is why you’re my favorite
He doesn’t send that last one. He just types it, stares at it for a beat, then deletes it.
Instead, he glances up at Y/N and says, "Hey. When this movie blows up, we’re getting promoted. You and me. Brand overlords."
Y/N raises their cup. "To brand domination."
They clink plastic coffee cups and return to their screens. Outside the window, Seoul hums with life. Inside the Sebong Corporation, it’s already burning bright.
***
It’s Wednesday afternoon, and the office conference room smells like coffee and stress. The whiteboard is already cluttered with scribbled hashtags and quotes from Eclipse Rising. Someone added a doodle of Vernon in a space helmet, annotated “Kael, but make it fashion.”
Y/N enters with a folder full of printed notes and digital mockups on their tablet, nodding at colleagues who are slouched in various poses of brainstorming agony. At the head of the table, Seungkwan is already animatedly pacing with a highlighter in one hand and a marker in the other.
“We need a hook,” he declares, spinning to face the room. “We need the kind of campaign that makes people say: ‘I don’t even like sci-fi, but I want to watch this.’”
A few heads nod. One team member raises their hand timidly. “What about doing something with the AI romance subplot? It’s super emotional.”
Seungkwan points at them. “Good. I like where your head’s at. Forbidden love between synthetic and human—boom, relatability.”
Y/N slides into a seat near the projector and pulls up their slides. “I’ve drafted three possible social rollouts: one focused on Kael as a tragic hero, one on the visuals and effects, and one on the emotional arcs. Seungkwan, I know you’re leaning into the ‘space heartache’ vibe.”
“Always,” Seungkwan says solemnly.
He dims the lights while Y/N begins the click-through. The first slide is a looping gif of Vernon’s character Kael, removing his helmet in slow motion, his eyes shimmering under starlight.
“Tagline?” Seungkwan asks.
Y/N smiles. “How about: ‘He’s not from this world, but he’ll break your heart like he is.’”
The room groans appreciatively.
Seungkwan clutches his chest. “Poetry. Actual poetry.”
The brainstorm session goes on for the next hour, veering wildly between professional brilliance and absolute chaos. Someone suggests an Instagram filter that places a galaxy behind users’ heads. Another pitches a fake dating profile for Kael.
"Likes: diplomacy, stargazing, long walks on low-gravity moons. Dislikes: betrayal, nuclear war."
As the ideas mount, Seungkwan becomes a whirlwind of energy, directing the chaos like an orchestra conductor. He doesn’t just throw out ideas—he builds on them, links them, pulls everyone’s thoughts into orbit. Every so often, he turns to Y/N.
“What do you think—too cheesy?”
Y/N considers it seriously before offering tweaks. “Drop the dating profile, keep the filter, and maybe add a fake breakup playlist Kael would make if his AI girlfriend left him.”
“YES,” Seungkwan shouts. “Playlist name: ‘Reboot My Heart.’”
Y/N shakes their head, but they’re smiling.
By the end of the session, the whiteboard is full, everyone’s stomachs are rumbling, and Seungkwan has abandoned his chair entirely. He and Y/N stand side-by-side now, sketching out the final tiered plan: Teasers, Trailers, Limited-Time Social Stunts, Cast AMA, Galaxy Experience Pop-Up.
Seungkwan leans a little too close, their shoulders brushing as they both scribble.
“Not bad for a day’s work,” he murmurs.
“Not bad,” Y/N echoes. “And we only lost three hours of our lives.”
“Worth it,” he replies with a grin, then lifts his marker like a sword. “To content!”
They high-five, marker-smudged fingers and all. For a brief second, Y/N forgets about premiere deadlines, burnout, and tight budgets. There’s just the glow of a shared vision, a room full of laughter, and Seungkwan’s elbow nudging theirs like they’ve been partners in this forever.
***
Friday morning arrives far too fast. The air in the presentation room is all too crisp, the lighting just harsh enough to make even Seungkwan double-check his hair in the reflective window. He’s wearing a navy suit with a constellation-themed tie that Y/N suspects he picked purely for thematic flair.
Y/N sets up the slides at the front of the room. Their laptop is connected to the giant wall screen. They triple-check the animations and transitions as the company’s senior execs begin to file in—familiar faces, all with coffee cups and tight schedules. Including Director Chan Lee, who has a reputation for asking questions so specific they feel like personal attacks.
Seungkwan catches Y/N’s eye. “We’ve got this,” he says under his breath, then flashes a peace sign. “Intergalactic charm engaged.”
Y/N tries to smile, but their nerves are fraying. They review the cue cards one more time.
The lights dim. Y/N starts the pitch.
“Eclipse Rising isn’t just a sci-fi film—it’s an emotional journey that asks what it means to be human in a universe that’s forgotten how to feel. Our marketing strategy aims to highlight that heart through digital intimacy, immersive visuals, and audience participation.”
Seungkwan jumps in with the charisma of a K-drama lead giving a TED Talk.
“Imagine seeing Kael’s world through the eyes of someone who’s loved and lost across galaxies. Our strategy leverages short-form content, interactive experiences, and a meme-forward tone that resonates with Gen Z’s love of irony and sincerity.”
The first few slides go over beautifully. Some execs even nod. Seungkwan’s pacing is fluid, charming, and his voice hits just the right note of enthusiasm. But then...
Slide 14.
The screen glitches.
Instead of Kael’s slow-motion helmet gif, it displays a meme Y/N had jokingly saved in the folder—Kael edited into a crying Wojak comic.
Y/N freezes.
Someone snorts.
Director Lee lifts an eyebrow.
Y/N fumbles, clicking forward, but it’s too late—the next slide shows a fake Spotify playlist titled “Reboot My Heart – Kael’s AI Breakup Anthems.”
Seungkwan blinks. Y/N looks at him, mortified. The meme was supposed to be an internal joke, something from the brainstorming session. Not... this.
Director Lee clears his throat. “Is this part of the official rollout?”
Seungkwan doesn’t miss a beat. He steps forward. “It was originally part of an internal engagement concept. A creative morale booster. But if you’re laughing, that tells us something—it works. It catches attention. And in this market, attention is currency.”
A beat of silence.
Then someone chuckles. Another nods. Seungkwan glances sideways at Y/N, eyes asking, You good?
Y/N takes a breath and jumps back in. “We’ve since refined the final concept, which you’ll see in the next slide. Here’s the cleaned-up version of the emotional resonance campaign, with final copy and polished visuals.”
The rest of the presentation goes on shakily, but smoother. Seungkwan steers with confidence, Y/N with clarity. Together, they pull it off, turning near-disaster into a weird sort of charm.
After the meeting ends, and the execs trickle out, Seungkwan finally exhales. He turns to Y/N.
“You saved it.”
“No, you did. That playlist line was... impressive.”
“I mean, I am emotionally fluent in meme,” he says, smirking.
They both laugh. The tension unravels. It’s still early, but Seungkwan grins like they’ve already won something.
“Lunch?” he asks. “Or should we debrief with panic snacks?”
Y/N grins. “Why not both?”
They walk out side-by-side, the slideshow still open behind them—now safely paused on Kael’s epic, starry-eyed profile. This time, no crying memes.
***
The company’s quarterly retreat takes them to a quiet, wooded resort two hours outside Seoul. The air smells like pine needles and possibility. The agenda is packed with bonding games, breakout brainstorms, and the faint promise of karaoke.
Y/N and Seungkwan sit beside each other on the bus, legs bumping occasionally as the road curves. Seungkwan is editing a Reels caption on his phone.
Y/N peeks. "You're adding emojis again."
"The algorithm loves them," he replies without looking up. "✨Emotional devastation in space✨ sells."
They check into separate cabins, but the day is full of group activities. One team-building challenge requires everyone to build a rocket ship out of cardboard and tape. Seungkwan takes it too seriously. Y/N doesn't mind—they're laughing too hard to care.
Later that evening, the retreat hosts a themed dinner by the campfire. The team is relaxed, wrapped in blankets, sipping from paper cups of hot tea or makgeolli. Stars scatter the sky above.
Someone initiates a game of truth or dare. When it’s Seungkwan’s turn, he confidently picks truth.
“Who do you trust the most at work?” one of the producers asks.
He doesn’t hesitate. “Y/N. They’re my gravity anchor.”
The group lets out a chorus of “aww”s. Y/N blushes but plays it cool, offering Seungkwan a toast from across the fire. He clinks his paper cup against theirs without breaking eye contact.
The next day brings a forest hike. The trail winds through dense trees and opens up to a scenic overlook. Most of the team marches ahead, but Seungkwan and Y/N naturally fall behind, walking in comfortable silence.
Seungkwan nudges Y/N’s shoulder. “You know, the playlist slide? I thought we were going to get roasted.”
Y/N snorts. “We kinda did.”
“Yeah, but like… toasted, not burnt.” He pauses. “Thanks for always having my back. Even when it’s chaotic. Especially when it’s chaotic.”
Y/N gives him a look. “That goes both ways.”
They stop at the lookout point. The view stretches far—rolling mountains, faint rivers, the curve of the horizon under a pale blue sky.
Seungkwan stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets. “Honestly? You’re my favorite part of this job.”
Y/N turns toward him slowly. “You mean the cardboard rockets weren’t a close second?”
He laughs. “Top five, maybe.”
They stand together in silence for a moment, close enough that their shoulders brush. The wind whistles through the trees. Everything feels still.
Y/N speaks first. “You’re mine too, you know. Favorite part.”
He smiles, soft and a little shy.
Something clicks into place. Like starlight shifting. Like orbits aligning.
They head back to camp together, just a little closer than before.
***
The office buzzes with a rare kind of electricity. Today is the trailer drop for Eclipse Rising, and the team has been building toward this moment for months. Seungkwan arrives early, coffees in hand—one for himself, one for Y/N. It's not unusual anymore.
Y/N is already at their desk, triple-checking the social rollout copy. The final teaser clip is scheduled to go live at 10:00 a.m. across all platforms. They sip the coffee Seungkwan places beside them and nod. “Today’s the day.”
“It’s gonna fly,” Seungkwan replies, eyes bright. “Like Kael’s escape pod. Straight into the algorithm.”
At 9:59 a.m., the marketing war room (a.k.a. the conference room they hijacked for this week) is full. Monitors display real-time analytics dashboards. Staff refresh the YouTube page with the hunger of people waiting for a comet to pass. Every screen reflects Seungkwan’s excitement. Y/N stands next to him, their shoulder brushing his.
Y/N whispers, “Think anyone’s going to cry?”
“If they don’t,” Seungkwan says confidently, “we’ve failed the mission.”
Y/N laughs. “No pressure.”
Seungkwan counts down. “Three. Two. One.”
Click.
The trailer is live.
On-screen, Vernon’s Captain Kael ignites the reactor of a crumbling starship, then reaches for the AI who loved him long before he was human. Voice-over: "Even in the dark, I remember your light."
The room goes still. Everyone's breath held.
Then—notifications explode. Twitter reposts, Instagram story shares, TikTok stitches. The trailer hits 100,000 views in under 30 minutes. The comments are full of crying emojis, memes, and fan edits.
The digital team cheers. Someone starts a group chat called "KAEL MY HEART." Another teammate drafts a press release mid-jump. The entire Slack channel is a blur.
Y/N and Seungkwan read the comments aloud:
“‘This trailer healed my trust issues.’”
“‘Why does this sci-fi movie feel more romantic than my entire dating history?’”
“‘Not me sobbing at 10am because of a spaceship love confession.’”
Seungkwan beams. “We did it.”
Y/N smiles, soft and wide. “You did it.”
“No,” he says, turning to them, “we did it. And we’re not even at premiere week yet.”
A pause, then a dramatic gasp from the intern at the corner. “Guys. It’s trending. Number three!”
The entire room erupts. Seungkwan does a victory spin. Y/N claps along. For a brief second, it feels like the end of a movie—confetti and all, even if it's just from a Slack emoji burst.
Later, when the room clears out and the trailer is still climbing, Y/N and Seungkwan remain. There’s a lull now. A calm after the data storm.
Seungkwan paces slightly, still energized. “You know, I was terrified this morning. Like… what if nobody cared?”
Y/N leans back against the table. “You hide it well.”
He gives a small smile. “Only because I knew you’d be in the room.”
Y/N’s breath catches, just briefly. “Well. I was.”
He walks over, standing beside them. They both stare at the muted trailer looping on the screen.
Y/N exhales, their voice quiet. “Feels weird. All that work, and now it’s out there.”
“Like sending your space kid off to school,” Seungkwan says.
Y/N laughs, eyes crinkling. “Exactly.”
He hesitates, then speaks. “You know, I’ve been thinking… we’re good at launching things.”
“Yeah?”
“What if we tried something smaller next?”
Y/N tilts their head. “Like?”
Seungkwan blushes slightly but doesn’t look away. “Like a date. You and me. Post-premiere. Something low-orbit.”
Y/N blinks, surprised—but only for a second. Then they smile. “Yeah. I think that sounds like a perfect launch.”
He grins. “See? Emotional devastation and successful relationship arcs. Marketing gold.”
They bump shoulders, the trailer looping silently behind them. Kael stares at his love across galaxies. And beside that cosmic romance, a quieter one is just beginning.
As they leave the room together, Seungkwan reaches for Y/N’s hand. Just for a moment. Just to see if it fits.
It does.
***
The theater lobby glimmers with the soft glow of spotlights and clusters of fans, reporters, and crew buzzing with excitement. It’s the premiere of Eclipse Rising, and the whole company is dressed to impress. Seungkwan and Y/N arrive together, the first time they’ve come as more than just coworkers—though neither is quite ready to say that out loud yet.
Inside the theater, the lights dim and the opening credits roll. Y/N watches Vernon’s Captain Kael with rapt attention, remembering the months spent behind the scenes—the endless edits, the marketing pitches, the nail-biting analytics. Beside them, Seungkwan’s hand finds theirs quietly, fingers brushing.
The audience gasps, laughs, and a few sniffle in that perfect way only a good love story can provoke. Y/N sneaks a glance at Seungkwan, whose eyes sparkle with the same mix of pride and something softer. It’s in that look Y/N decides to lean in just a little closer.
After the credits, the cast and crew take the stage for applause. Vernon, glowing with excitement, thanks everyone. The team’s hard work has paid off spectacularly. Seungkwan gives Y/N a look—a mix of “We did this” and “Thank you for being here.”
Outside the theater, the night air is cool. Y/N and Seungkwan walk side by side, the buzz of the premiere fading behind them. There’s a calm now—a space just for them.
Seungkwan stops and turns, searching Y/N’s face.
“I know we’ve been buried in work for months,” he says softly, “but... I’ve been meaning to say something.”
Y/N’s heart hammers in that thrilling way, caught between hope and nerves.
“I really like working with you,” he says, “but more than that... I like you. Not just as my co-conspirator in marketing.”
Y/N smiles, eyes bright. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
They laugh softly, a gentle ease settling between them.
Seungkwan brushes a strand of hair from Y/N’s face.
“Want to keep building this? Outside the office?” he asks.
Y/N nods without hesitation.
“Yeah. Let’s make this the best story yet.”
They lean closer to each other, lips brushing softly. There was no rush, no pressure, they had all the time in the world.
Hand in hand, they walk into the night—ready for their own premiere.
synopsis: your boyfriend, asahi, comes home after a long day at work and can't wait to be close to you.
fluff, insinuation of sex (no actual smut)
word count: 500~
a/n: i have fallen in love with asahi. thats it
It was a stressful time for Asahi. This was Treasure’s first official comeback with him as one of the newly appointed co-leaders. And with a song he produced! Needless to say, he has been a little on edge lately.
But, luckily, he had you by his side. Along with his members of course, but you would always be able to bring him a different kind of comfort, especially after a long and tiring day.
You were sitting on the couch in your apartment, rewatching your favorite drama for the millionth time, pausing it when you heard the front door open. Asahi didn’t technically live with you (yet), choosing to stay with his members, especially as the new leader, but he spent a large amount of his free time at your apartment.
He toes off his shoes at the door and walks over to flop down halfway on your lap and half on the couch.
“Hey, baby,” you said, immediately starting to brush your fingers through his hair. “How was practice?”
Asahi nuzzles his face into your thighs and mumbles out a response, “Good. I missed you.” You feel his lips purse into a small peck onto your leg.
“I missed you too.” You smiled down at the heap on your lap you called a boyfriend. Asahi nuzzled farther into your lap, as if he was trying to climb into your skin. You heard a soft whine come from him. You feel the vibrations of him mumbling something you couldn’t make out. “Hmm?” You question and hum, waiting for him to unbury himself slightly.
“I need you,” he whispers into the silence of the apartment.
You knew all too well what he meant. Asahi by no means had a very high libido and immensely preferred intimate moments to be romantic in every way, but sometimes, especially after a long day, something would shift in him. Tonight was one of those nights and you had every intention of fulfilling his needs as much as your own.
You gently tugged on his hair where your hand was still resting to get him to turn and look you in the eyes. “Kiss me,” you whispered back to him. He leaned up to capture your lips, maneuvering you both until you were straddling his lap, your lips never separating.
“Baby…” he breathed against your lips. You both felt the need to get closer. “Let me take you to bed.”
“Please,” you whisper. Asahi takes your hand in his and leads you to the bed. He laid you down, treating you like the precious thing you are to him. “I love you,” you say to him as he traces the delicate lines of your body.
“I love you too,” he says, warm breath sending goosebumps across your skin. “I’m going to show you,” he left a kiss on you. “Exactly,” another kiss. “How,” another. “Much,” and one final kiss as he slowly takes you apart.
Welcome to the high-stakes world of rival medial moguls, The Carat Company and Sebong Corporation. From HR nightmares to boardroom powerplays, the lights are on and the cameras are rolling; our writers are taking you behind the scenes of the industry’s fiercest (and pettiest) workplace battles. Talent Managers Tara (@diamonddaze01) and Kae (@studioeisa) are proud to present: That’s Showbiz, Baby!
[TAG LIST] ✨ Book a conference room now to get exclusive access to every deal closed, memo leaked, and steamy office romance as it drops.
[HR NOTICE] 🔞 Some files in this archive are strictly 18+ and may contain NSFW material. Please review 📊 Key Deliverables and 📝 Meeting minutes for individual content warnings before entering a conference room.
📺 THE CARAT COMPANY.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 1: routine romance
🤝 Booked by @studioeisa, on behalf of talent recruiter!seungcheol and freelancer!reader.
📋 Agenda: you have a routine. a foolproof, tried and tested daily schedule. when the hell did choi seungcheol become part of it?
📊 Key Deliverables: humor, romance, pinch of angst.
📝 Meeting minutes: profanity, mentions of food. slowburn -ish, meet ugly, coffee shop romance, feelings realization/denial, seungcheol is a flirty bastard, discussions of freelancing/corporate life.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 2: Touching Yourself
🤝 Booked by @straylightdream, on behalf of actor!jeonghan and f!reader.
📋 Agenda: After a stressful day on set leaves him wondering if being an actor is really what he wants, he calls you. One phone call leads to both you crossing lines you never imagined you would cross.
📊 Key Deliverables: smut, friends to lovers, mutual pining, romance, comfort, angst.
📝 Meeting minutes: depression, anxiety, jeonghan is really going through it, severe stress from a job, alcohol consumption, crying, lots of emotions, mentions menstrual cycles.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 3: stars in the sky
🤝 Booked by @simpxxstan, on behalf of actor!jeonghan and reader.
📋 Agenda: yoon jeonghan has not a care in the world throughout the day - he’s the prince, it’s his time to reign. a million autographs every day, an unending echo of fanchants, and jeonghan knows he’s the most desired man in the country right now. but when the flashlights dim, the curtains are drawn, and the monsters step out of the dark, there’s only one hand he wants to hold. only one pair of eyes make his heart smile, only one voice lulls him into sleep every night, only one scent he desires to drown in, only one touch that lets him find himself again.
📊 Key Deliverables: co-workers to lovers, grumpy x sunshine trope, angst, smut, light fluff.
📝 Meeting minutes: smut warnings to be added later (mdni!), bickering and verbal banter, no private space, anxiety and panic attacks, online bullying, trolling, breakdown of self-confidence, nightmares, lots of angst really, casual flirting, more warnings to be added later.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 4: Please, Block Me
🤝 Booked by @okiedokrie, on behalf of social media manager!joshua and reader.
📋 Agenda: Joshua Hong, 29, Social Media Manager. Forced to learn whatever meme lingo the kids are saying these days. Got harassed by the Social Media Manager of Queen Quesadilla when he used to work for King Taco; he quit. He works for The Carat Company now, where unfortunately, you followed.
📊 Key Deliverables: TBA.
📝 Meeting minutes: TBA.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 5: Typo and Error
🤝 Booked by @gotta-winwin, on behalf of social media manager!joshua and actress!reader.
📋 Agenda: Joshua loves his job as social media manager for The Carat Company, except for one thing: the actress he’s in charge of. you hate his guts, and Joshua swears he returns those feelings with vigor, and yet… forced to work in close proximity, Joshua’s forced to reckon with the idea that just maybe, despite all the animosity, he’s still madly in love with you.
📊 Key Deliverables: fluff, crack, slight angst.
📝 Meeting minutes: light swearing, mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, enemies to lovers(?), heavy denial of feelings, discussions of fame/film industry.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 6: Too Far
🤝 Booked by @lovetaroandtaemin, on behalf of Intern!Jun and Secretary!Reader.
📋 Agenda: When your friend suggested letting the new intern in your company's legal department move in with you, you had your doubts. As time went on, though, the two of you grew closer than you ever could have anticipated. The only problem was that you were certain that he didn't see you the same way you saw him.
📊 Key Deliverables: Angst, Fluff, Smut. Roommates to lovers
📝 Meeting minutes: Jun is a loser with jealousy problems, profanity, LOTS of suggestive/NSFW content that Will Be Determined Later, both of these fuckers need to work on their communication skills.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 7: company benefits
🤝 Booked by @studioeisa, on behalf of social media intern!junhui and copywriter!reader.
📋 Agenda: you can't really call wen junhui your ex-boyfriend. it was more of a friends with benefits situation—except you only got ghosted, while he got an internship at your recommendation. people always say to not bite the hand that feeds you; it looks like jun didn't get the memo.
📊 Key Deliverables: smut, romance, angst with a happy ending.
📝 Meeting minutes: profanity, mentions of food & alcohol consumption, job loss. ex-situationship, forced proximity, so much tension..., nepotism!!!, marketing terms, soonyoung gets his own warning.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 8: Be My Tigress?
🤝 Booked by @svtiddiess on behalf of Marketing Manager!Hoshi and Assistant Manager!Reader.
📋 Agenda: After moving halfway across the world to Korea, you landed a job as an Assistant Manager at Carat Company, a media company known for television production, music management, and digital content creation. Your boss, Soonyoung—though he insists everyone call him Hoshi—turned out to be an absolute whirlwind of chaos. From tiger-themed stationery and tiger-themed office décor to a full-on tiger fursuit, his relentless dedication to his so-called "tiger agenda" has left you questioning your sanity on more than one occasion. (Seriously, what even is a horanghae??) As you adjust to your new life and career, one question keeps nagging at you: how has he not been fired yet? No, really—why hasn't anyone reported this insane man to HR?
📊 Key Deliverables: crack, fluff, slightest of angst, smut, office romance.
📝 Meeting minutes: Tiger agenda is strong in this one, Hoshi is very unserious (and a diva), unrealistic workplace environment, multiple sex scenes, HR pls don't fire Hoshi.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 9: Beyond the Transcripts
🤝 Booked by @joonsytip, on behalf of CEO!wonwoo and Head of Legal!Reader.
📋 Agenda: Jeon Wonwoo, the calmest and untainted CEO to ever exist, gets his world shaken up when he finds you again, as the legal department head at his own company and your only registered family is a little guy who resembles him a bit too much. Alternatively, you are smooth in onboarding Wonwoo into your son's life but problems arise when he tries to slide back into yours.
📊 Key Deliverables: angst, smut, fluff, exes to co-parents to lovers.
📝 Meeting minutes: themes of co parenting, mentions of past difficult pregnancy, misogynistic slurs being used at workplace, minor accident.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 10: Prologue To ???
🤝 Booked by @chugging-antiseptic-dye, on behalf of HR Manager!Jihoon and Operations Manager!Reader.
📋 Agenda: You did not know HR manager Jihoon. You did not want to know HR manager Jihoon. However when fate throws you and an unconscious body to make his acquaintance, you realize that still water truly holds its depths. And maybe diving in head first was not the best decision. Yet, what else could you do? The show must go on.
📊 Key Deliverables: Horror, Murder Mystery, Paranormal, Psychological Thriller, Suspense, Urban, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.
📝 Meeting minutes: POV Switching, Amnesia, Blood, Gore, Grief/Mourning, Injury, Kidnapping, Morally Grey Characters, Mentions of Death/ Murder, Body Horror, Descriptions of Injury, Nightmares, Substance Abuse, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Coworkers to maybe lovers, Ambiguous Open Ending.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 11: Emails I Can't Send
🤝 Booked by @diamonddaze01, on behalf of Managing Director of HR! Jihoon and Planning and Recruitment Specialist! Reader.
📋 Agenda: Jihoon has always been clear: work is work, and co-workers are co-workers. Boundaries keep things clean. Professional. Predictable. As Managing Director of HR at The Carat Company, that's exactly how he likes it. But when a too-charming, too-bright former Sebong Corp employee joins his team, Jihoon is forced to confront the one boundary he may no longer be able to hold: the one between you and him.
📊 Key Deliverables: humor, fluff, angst with a happy ending.
📝 Meeting minutes: epistolary, suggestive for sure, consumption of alcohol.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
📺 SEBONG CORPORATION.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 1: An Alluring Score
🤝 Booked by @seoloquent, on behalf of Artists and Repertoire Representative!DK and Conductor!Reader.
📋 Agenda: Willing to risk everything, his career included, Seokmin knew you had to be the one in charge of Sebong Corp’s newest feature film’s score soundtrack. The only issue was, you had no physical proof of experience. Despite the doubts coming from executives, your family, and even yourself, Seokmin resolved to help you prove everyone wrong, and showcase your alluring score to the world.
📊 Key Deliverables: fluff, humor, slight angst, strangers to lovers.
📝 Meeting minutes: seokmin has a slight issue with boundaries (could be a little annoying), depictions of misogyny, grief, mentions of death (not important character), inaccurate representation of film industry (I did as much research as I could!).
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 2: LoserBoy vs. HaterGirl
🤝 Booked by @gyubakeries, on behalf of Social Media Intern!Mingyu and IT Specialist!Reader.
📋 Agenda: When Kim Mingyu, the new addition to the Social Media department of Sebong Corp. shows up at your office, requesting you to feature in one of the 'promotional tiktoks' he's been assigned to film, you tell yourself that it'll be your last interaction with the puppy-faced, hyper-energetic intern. A few months, twenty tiktoks, and a diabetes-inducing amount of sugar, you can't quite remember exactly why you had wanted to stay away from him in the first place.
📊 Key Deliverables: comedy, romance, light angst, one-sided enemies to lovers, grumpy x sunshine, pining, a dash of slowburn.
📝 Meeting minutes: sexual content, mingyu being a teensy bit annoying, a lot of obliviousness.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 3: HR Meets Heart
🤝 Booked by @soo0hee, on behalf of HR Manager!Minghao and afab!reader.
📋 Agenda: When you didn't get the promotion you were licking your fingers for, you weren't at all amused. When it was the one person you were sure was out for your every last nerve to get said promotion, you were even less amused. Now stuck with a new boss you loathed you were sure you'd go insane — but what if it's in a different way then you thought....
📊 Key Deliverables: fluff, enemies to lovers.
📝 Meeting minutes: suggestive, language, alcohol.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 4: Mr. Boo: Coffee, Campaigns, and Confessions
🤝 Booked by @smiley-pansy, on behalf of Marketing Manager!Seungkwan and Brand & Promotions Coordinator!Reader.
📋 Agenda: You and Seungkwan work behind the scenes at Sebong Corporation, a bustling movie production company. When you're assigned to co-lead the marketing campaign for Eclipse Rising—the studio’s most high-profile release yet—your already-close working relationship takes center stage. Through morning coffee runs, chaotic brainstorming sessions, late-night strategy meetings, and a surprisingly sweet team-building retreat, your friendship deepens into something more.
📊 Key Deliverables: fluff, slight crack, coworkers-to-lovers, (attempt at) comedy.
📝 Meeting minutes: light swearing, adorable idiots in love.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 5: damage control
🤝 Booked by @heechwe, on behalf of and actor!vernon and reader.
📋 Agenda: Hansol Vernon Chwe is one of the most frustrating clients to have on the payroll yet one of the biggest and brightest stars on cable television. He's reckless, carefree, and always dancing to the beat of his own drum. And it is up to you, his new assistant, to hold onto the reigns in time for the press run and upcoming premiere of his hit show's second season. No matter what it takes, or how hard you fall for him in the process.
📊 Key Deliverables: TBA.
📝 Meeting minutes: TBA.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 6: homemade dynamite
🤝 Booked by @miniseokminnies, on behalf of actor!vernon and fem!director!reader.
📋 Agenda: Vernon Chwe is a serious actor. That’s how his company, Sebong Corporation, markets him at least. He couldn’t be less interested in that strategy, he’d much rather focus on projects that inspire him. When an email from you, an indie film director that’s been on his radar, comes through his inbox he practically jumps at the opportunity. Trust him on this, okay? It’ll turn out amazing, he’ll make sure of it.
📊 Key Deliverables: fluff, smut, strangers to co workers to lovers.
📝 Meeting minutes: Vernon causing problems for his boss, deeply inappropriate use of a lake, semi public sex, angst if you squint, feelings of being lost.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 8: Entertaining Pleasures
🤝 Booked by @bitchlessdino, on behalf of Entertainment CEO!Chan and afab!TV Producer!Reader.
📋 Agenda: Chan didn't think he had what it takes and motivation to be a CEO when he rather be the one on stage. It wasn't until he met the most obnoxious TV producer he's ever met that he was committed to being the best goddamn Entertainment CEO they and Carat Company has ever seen.
📊 Key Deliverables: fluff, comedy, smut, enemies to fwbs, fwb to ???
📝 Meeting minutes: cocky!chan, undermining!reader, poor use of filming/modeling sets and their equipment, lowkey exhibitionism.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
🗓️ CONFERENCE ROOM 7: On Your Side
🤝 Booked by @chanranghaeys, on behalf of ceo!lee chan and cfo!fem!reader.
📋 Agenda: Being seatmates with Chan for your senior year back in arts high school changed your life forever. Being estranged and distant friends with Dino, celebrated idol-slash-actor, messed with your head—and your heart. Being the Chief Financial Officer and right hand of Sebong Corporation’s newest CEO, Mr. Lee Chan turned you both into people that barely knew each other. But would you both be willing to stick it through to the end, claiming to be on each other’s side?
📊 Key Deliverables: high school friends to estranged friends to office colleagues to enemies to ???
📝 Meeting minutes: puppy love and high school crushes, borderline office romance, mutual pining but they’re adamant to antagonize each other.
Read the teaser here.
Read the full fic here.
Once again, sign up for the tag list to get tagged for teasers and fic drops. See you in office!
Hiii! I read your Yoshi fic and it was just so cute, I enjoyed it so much 🥹🫶
I wanted to ask if you would be willing to write smut for Asahi? Tbh, I don't have anything specific in mind, but maybe something with angst or fluff? That would be great!
And are you building an anon list? If so, could I be ✨?
dear ✨ anon, you are in luck! asahi has taken over 100% of my brain and now i NEED to write about him!
I shall start ASAP and we'll see when it gets out lol
Thanks for the request and for being my first anon 🥺
pairing: yoshi x fem!reader (reader has female anatomy)
synopsis: you and your boyfriend, Yoshi, are losing your virginities to each other. fluffy smut. mdni, explicit smut
word count: 1.5k~
a/n: my first time writing smut... lmk what you think <3 feel free to request something lol
You and Yoshi had been dating for about 4 months now. You had been taking your relationship slow, not completely by choice but because his job kept him very busy. You didn’t mind though. It was worth it to be with Yoshi in any way you could.
Treasure had just finished promotions for their latest comeback, which meant that Yoshi finally had some time off. And he wanted nothing more than to spend it with you. He had been planning this in his head for weeks and this was finally the weekend it was going to happen.
You hadn’t had sex yet. You had given hurried hand jobs and blowjobs, and he had fingered you a few times, but you were finally going to go all the way. It was the first time for both of you. Yoshi had never had a serious girlfriend before he joined the trainee program, and then he was under a dating ban, and you had always been waiting for someone special.
Yoshi had it all planned out. He would bring takeout from your favorite restaurant to your apartment, which eliminated the risk of one of the members bursting into the room. Then, well, he hadn’t exactly planned anything farther than that, but how hard could it be?
~~~
After you had finished dinner, you moved to your bedroom. Yoshi was sitting on the edge of your bed with you sitting on his lap. Your arms were wrapped around his neck while his were firmly on your hips as your lips moved together.
“Wait,” Yoshi said, breaking away from your mouth. “Wait. I want to make sure we’re on the same page. Are you okay with doing this tonight?”
“Yes. I am so insanely okay with this, baby,” you smiled at the cute blush that was covering his face.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s just set some boundaries?” You moved to get off his lap to have a serious conversation, but his grip tightened, and he held you even closer.
“Alright,” you said, rewrapping your arms around him.
“Well, first, if one of us wants to stop, we stop immediately.”
“Obviously. What else?” you could feel the fond smile on your face.
“We go slow. And careful. And if we’re ever uncomfortable with something, we tell the other immediately.”
“Baby, you seem nervous. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” “No! I want to. I want to so much, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I trust you. So much. Do you trust me to tell you if I want to stop?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Okay. Can I kiss you?”
Yoshi smiled as he leaned back in and attached his lips to yours. This time, the kiss was less rushed and softer. Your hands made their way under Yoshi’s shirt, rubbing small circles on his waist as his hands tugged lightly on your hair.
Your hands migrated up to his chest, taking his shirt with it. As his lips broke from yours to take his shirt off, you licked and sucked your way down his jaw. Spending extra time on his neck, you made your way down his chest, kissing all the way down. You gently pushed him, so he was laying back on the bed. You crawled so your faces were even, your knee between his legs applying gentle pressure to his growing bulge. He breathed out a moan in response. His hands were traveling all over your body, eventually finding their way to the hem of your shirt. He met your eyes, asking for permission and when it was granted, he took it off. He left kisses on your now bare chest, dragging a finger along the edge of your bra.
Your wandering hands started undoing the button of his jeans and pulled them off. You palmed him through his underwear, noticing the growing wet spot. He grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your back. You were now laying on the bed with Yoshi hovering above you. He made quick work of your pants and placed a hand dangerously high on your thigh. Now that you were both nearly naked, it all felt so much more real. No matter how many times you had seen each other before, this felt different. The energy in the room was charged with nervous excitement. He leaned in to kiss you again. Your lips instantly opened, letting his familiar tongue explore your mouth. He pressed you into the mattress with his body weight. You felt his hand sneak under your back and unclasp your bra. You were too preoccupied with the feeling of your tongues dancing to be impressed with his speed.
He pulled away from your lips and dragged your straps down your arms, exposing your breasts.
“God,” he breathed, hot breath fanning over your already sensitive nipples. “I love your body so much. All of you is so gorgeous.” His mouth latched onto your tit. His tongue flicked in and out of his mouth in perfect time with the small kisses he was leaving all over your chest.
His mouth continued travelling south until he hit your underwear. His eyes flicked up to you and you nodded. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down. His eyes raked over your naked form, taking in every inch of skin. You reached your hands out and pulled his underwear down, too. He leaned his head between your legs and kisses up your thigh. He pulled away and got up. You watched his naked body walk to the corner where his bag was sitting. He grabbed a bottle of lube and a box of condoms. He made his way back over to the bed, hovering his face over yours.
“Are you ready?”
“Please, baby. I need you,” you tangled your hands in his hair and pulled him into a kiss. He broke away from your lips and reached for the bottle of lube. You attached your lips to his neck. You heard the pop of the lid opening and felt his now wet fingers teasing around your pussy. He stuck a finger, and then two, in just to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you.
“Baby, if you don’t stop now… I don’t know how much longer I’ll last.”
He pulled his fingers out of you and reached for the box of condoms. You watched as his shaking, lube covered, fingers struggled to open the box. You smiled at how cute he is before taking the box from his hands and opening it yourself. You grabbed a condom and opened the packet, then slowly rolled it onto his length, watching his expression the whole time. His eyes were squeezed shut, clearly excited by your touch. When you were done, your hands landed on his cheeks and pulled his face towards yours.
“Can I-” he started to question but you cut him off with your lips on his.
You reached your hand down and grabbed onto his cock, already leaking and harder than you had ever seen it. After one slow drag of your hand, he got the hint and positioned himself between your legs. He lined himself up and leaned up to kiss you again. He was kissing you as he slowly pushed in. It was so overwhelming, having him inside you. There were so many sensations at once. Feeling closer to him than you ever had before. Having his cock in you and his tongue against yours.
When he was all the way in, he pulled away and looked at your face, trying to find any hint of discomfort. All he found was your face twisted in pleasure, quiet begs for more falling off your lips. He slowly rolled his hips, trying to find what was the best way to go about this. He watched your expression intently, trying to find what angle you liked best. When he hit your sweet spot, you gasped louder and your back arched off the bed. He slightly pulled out and hit the same spot again and again. The constant stimulation of that point had you seeing stars. All you could do was breathe out Yoshi’s name and begging for him to keep going. The closer the were to your climax, the tighter you squeezed around Yoshi. With one more thrust, you finished. And the sight of you cumming on his cock sent Yoshi over the edge.
Yoshi collapsed, exhausted on top of you, unable to hold up his body weight anymore. When he regained some strength, he pulled out, removed the condom, tied it off, and disappeared into the bathroom. He came back with a warm washcloth and cleaned you up, which you did for him as well. You tucked yourselves into bed, with your head on his chest.
“Thank you. For trusting me,” Yoshi whispered into the silent darkness.
synopsis: seventeen is away filming ttt when you have a very sweet phone call with your boyfriend, wonwoo. (and hoshi)
word count: 500~
a/n: short and sweet. that's it; ALSO requests are open if you wanna send me something <3
Wonwoo was pleasantly tipsy. Just buzzed enough to feel warm and fuzzy inside, but not drunk. Not drunk like some of his members were (Hoshi). Seventeen were filming the latest installment of their TTT series. They had spent the evening playing drinking games. The cameras had since been turned off and the members were enjoying their well-deserved time off. Some of the members were much drunker than the others. Wonwoo had opted to sip on a beer and just watch the chaos unfold.
He was listening to BooSeokSoon belting out yet another Twice song on the karaoke machine when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled when he saw who was calling.
“Hey, baby,” He said, low voice growling in your ear.
“Hey, you,” you say, unable to fight back the smile that your boyfriend always managed to put on your face. “I just wanted to call before I head to bed. Just to say good night. And I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” Wonwoo says, chuckling. It has only been a few hours since he left. “I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
“I know but I still miss you. Anyways, I’ll let you go. Go have fun.”
“I will. And-“
“WONWOO-YAH!” Hoshi had found Wonwoo’s quiet hideout. “Come sing with us!’
“Wow, I can tell how drunk he is through the phone,” you said, laughing.
“Y/N!” Hoshi finally noticed that Wonwoo was on the phone. And correctly assumed he was talking to you. There was a sound from the other end that sounded suspiciously like Hoshi stealing the phone out of Wonwoo’s hand. “Y/N! I’m having so much fun!”
“Yeah? I can tell,” you were laughing at Hoshi’s antics, like always. He is always so good at putting a smile on anyone’s face.
“You should’ve come. I think you would’ve had fun,” Hoshi said, suddenly somber. Drunk Hoshi and his mood swings.
“That’s sweet, but I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t. HEY MEMBERS!”
Oh god, you mumbled under your breath.
“All in favor of y/n coming on our next trip say ‘horanghae’!”
A chorus of 12 ‘horanghae’s came through your phone’s speakers.
“That is the first and last time I’ll say that,” Woozi said.
“Then it’s settled. You are coming next time.”
You sighed, knowing you wouldn’t get anywhere while Hoshi was drunk out of his mind. But, you still smiled because the gesture was so sweet.
“You know what, invite me when you’re sober and I’ll think about it.”
“Deal!”
There was more shuffling from the other end of the phone.
“Monsta X! Monsta X!” Hoshi was now chanting from a distance.
The phone was finally back in Wonwoo’s hands.
“Sorry about that.” “It’s more than okay. I like being reminded that they actually like me.”
“Of course they do. You’re impossible not to like. Plus I like you and I have excellent taste,” Wonwoo said. That’s how you could tell he was drunker than usual. His flirt level got turned up way higher. You were glad he couldn’t see your blush through the phone.
“Okay, okay. I should go now. You go have fun. You deserve it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Hey, just for the record, I also would like for you to come along next time.”
synopsis: your boyfriend, Mark (and the rest of NCT) are all severely overworked, and the company does not seem to care. so you take things into your own hands
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this is an excuse to write down everything I would like to tell sm. f u sm <3 also the ceo does not get to have a name
You have been dating Mark for a year. Over the past year, you have been spending a lot more time around the SM building, usually watching rehearsals or just in Mark’s studio as he works.
It’s no secret that NCT, and especially Mark, are overworked. Czennies have been pointing that out for years, and the company has done nothing but add on to their busy schedules.
Since you started dating Mark, you have made it your mission to make sure he sleeps and eats enough, which is way harder than it sounds. Getting that man to take a break is borderline impossible. He would never take a break while they were still in the middle of working, and there was no gap in their schedule for the foreseeable future.
Which is what led you to your current situation.
Sitting in the small waiting area outside of the CEO’s office. Ready to give him a piece of your mind. But keeping yourself calm enough to rationally explain your concerns about your friends.
Of course there was a part of you that was very nervous about this whole “confrontation”, but the other part knew that he couldn’t do anything to you. He had no control over you or your life so you were safe. And he wouldn’t punish Mark for anything you said because, frankly, he makes the company a shit-ton of money.
So many thoughts were running through your head that you almost didn’t notice the secretary standing directly in front of you.
“You can go in now.”
“Thank you,” and you made your way into the office. And it all suddenly felt way more real.
The CEO is sitting at his desk, an entire wall of windows behind him. He is sitting with his hands folded on top of his lap, overlooking his very large and quite empty office.
“Y/N. It’s nice to see you.” “You too, sir,” you said, sitting in a chair opposite him.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
You awkwardly clear your throat. Now, actually being here, you are very unsure how to start this conversation.
“They need a break,” you suddenly blurt out, shocking yourself as well as the CEO.
He leans forward, across the desk, making direct eye contact with you, that you are determined to hold.
“What?”
“They need a break,” you said, more sure. More steady. “NCT. They haven’t had a break in so long. They are just doing comeback after comeback. Tour after tour. Promotions after promotions. While still doing rehearsals. And recordings. And other projects. And doing that for multiple sub -units? Or solo? It’s too much. They're all overworked and exhausted. Everyone can see it. I can. I know you can. The fans can. And they have told you as much. And you have consistently ignored that. The members would never tell you this but they need some time off. So if me coming here is what it takes for you to understand then well, here I am. They all really need a nap,” You let out a deep breath after your ranting, now noticing how loud you had gotten towards the end. “Sorry,” you said, regaining your composure.
“What for?”
“Yelling.”
The CEO settled back in his chair. Sighing deeply, staring at you. “I appreciate your honesty. And I will take your concerns into consideration.”
“Thank you for your time,” you said, getting up, giving a quick bow, and leaving.
What were the odds of him actually taking what you said into consideration? It honestly seemed unlikely. But at least you tried, right?
While you were in the building, you figured you could at least pop in to see Mark.
NCT 2023 rehearsals were in full swing, so walking into the rehearsal room, you were met with a chorus of “Y/N!” coming from every member. While you made your rounds, saying hello to everyone, Mark was just sitting in the corner watching with a fond smile. Watching you interact with his members always made him feel so happy. Knowing that all the most important people in his life were all friends was his favorite feeling in the world. (Well, maybe second favorite ;))
Your eyes finally met his and you sat beside him, hugging him tight, instinctively burying your face in his neck.
“Hey, baby,” he said. You could feel him smiling from where his cheek was placed against the top of his head. “How’s my girl today? I didn’t know you were visiting.”
“I missed you,” you said, still buried into his shoulder. You didn’t tell him about the meeting, and you had no intention to. It just felt unnecessary to get his hopes up when they would probably be crushed anyways.
You two stayed cuddled up against each other for the remainder of their short break from rehearsal.
“Hey lovebirds, you’re cute and everything, but we need to practice now,” Johnny said.
“You know you’re jealous, dude,” Mark retorted. Johnny’s face twisted in a weird way that showed Mark was right.
“Whatever. Let's just go.”
“You’ll wait for me, baby?”
“Of course.”
About an hour later, rehearsal was over and the members were packing up getting ready to leave. Mark was standing next to you, deciding what your plans for the evening would be, when the CEO walked in.
“Oh! Hello, sir,” Taeyong said, bowing and getting everyone’s attention. And there was a chorus of “hello”s and bows.
“Hello, boys,” he said, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “I would like to talk to you all about something,” he was met with confused looks and some muttering. “It has come to my attention that you all haven’t had an adequate break in quite a while,” he purposefully avoided meeting your eyes. “So, after some consideration, you will all have 2 full months off after current promotions end. There will be no new comebacks, no new concerts, no other projects. You all deserve some time off after all the hard work you’ve put in for years now. And I’m sorry it took so long for me to give this to you.”
“Thank you so much, sir,” Taeyong said, prompting another round of bows from the members.
With that, the CEO left the room and the members started to talk excitedly about what they would do with their time off. Mostly talks of visiting family and finally getting the sleep they’ve missed out on.
Mark had stayed quiet, watching your face. He sat back down next to you.
“I’m assuming you had something to do with this?” he said, laughing at your shocked face. “Oh come on, I know my girl better than you give me credit for.”
“Fine. I did. And just so you know, you will be taking this time off. And I will be making sure that you are not working. Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said. After a bit of watching the other members joke around with each other, he leaned back in to whisper in your ear, “I have an idea or two of something we can do with the time off,” he wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.
“I might be open to your ideas. But first, you will be taking a nap. A very long nap.”
The pure love and adoration for you was clear on his face. “Thank you.” “For what?” “For caring. For fighting. For loving me.”
