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[hannie-dul-set]

EXTENSION: AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno realizes his type in women after getting kidnapped by his celebrity crush. w — swearing, kidnapping, crime in general. 1.4k words.

note — part 2 to an unlikely fanmeeting. to the anon who said that they envisioned eric from tbz as the ex boyfriend, this one's for u. enjoy.

a swoosh on the top. a loop at the bottom. two slopes intersecting before breaking of to scratch a little heart at the tail end. the ink is red. it’s always red.

“is this all?”

you remove the cardstock from the table, and with a sharp movement you snap your arm straight, presenting it to him. jeno looks at your signature— with the pretty loops and all, but he smacks his tongue in disappointment. there’s an impatient twitch on your brow as you eye him, waiting seated on the other side of your desk. jeno snatches the autographed card, “of course not," then tucks it into the chest pocket of his no longer damp shirt.

there’s a clench of your jaw, a tightening of your stare. your eyes stopped quivering even since starting the deal. a shame, because jeno had a lot of fun backing you into a corner.

still, he likes seeing you mad too— sharp gaze, knitted brows, lips on the verge of a sneer— almost foreign to the gentle and sweet expressions natural to your features. there’s no mix of melancholic blue like when you’re acting out a scene. this one’s impersonal, like you’ve got no shits to give. it’s red. all red.

jeno prefers red.

he leans a little closer. your annoyance shifts to suspicion. he rests an arm on your desk, shifting his weight to it. a single tap on the stack of blank cardstock. “i need a couple bit more,” he says, a quirk of the lips. “my boys like you a lot, too.”

a pause. then a sigh. you roll your eyes and shoo him off your personal space with a wave, to which he hums and obediently follows, and while the scratches of pen against paper fill your office space, jeno takes the once in a lifetime opportunity to snoop around a celebrity’s room.

the whole is flushed with dark mahogany, a singular lamp illuminating the area from the ceiling. there’s a case lined with countless trophies and plaques and certificates and awards. there’s a wall with a giant poster of your face on it. he flits his eyes over to you on the desk, blank faced as you sign each layer of cardstock one by one like a machine, then back to the bigger version of your face on the wall, smiley-eyed and innocent.

there’s a laugh trying to claw out of his throat. he spins his heels and returns to your desk.

“wait," he says, interrupting you from finishing the last card on the pile. your hand jerks to a stop. you look up at him, what now? on your expression. jeno is pretty sure he’s done a negative amount of good things to deserve seeing all these different kinds of faces from you. “can you put park jisung on that one?”

“what?”

“nice kid. a little clumsy. good with the bat,” jeno answers and you look like you could care less. “he cried three times watching sunwater. give him a little treat.”

you, once again, let out a exhale and continue writing with a rather aggressive scribble, ending the note with a pressure-pointed dot in the bottom right corner. “happy?” you deride.

he hums, “that’s not the attitude of someone who wants something from me,” and slides the stack of cards to his side of the desk, collecting it between his hands and slides them in between each other with a shuffle. “but anyhow, let’s get to talking.”

“finally.”

three loud taps on the table as he sets down the autographed cards. jeno takes the plush seat in front of your desk and drags it closer.

“you want us to abduct your ex boyfriend.” you affirm. “who is it? the eric sohn guy i keep seeing you on the news with?” a look of judgement overrides your expression. jeno simply shrugs. you can’t blame him for the fact that your face and name is everywhere.

“whatever,” you sigh. “anyway, yes, i want that bitch back here. he ran away to japan after i caught him fucking shin yona two days before our god damned anniversary.”

“damn. his loss.” 

“the fucker knows i can’t run after him because my schedule is packed this week. one of which is an ad shoot with the bitch yona, by the way. if she doesn’t pull out voluntarily, i’ll see to it that she does.”

you sure do swear quite a lot. “i think i’ve seen her before. was it firefly? i don’t know, that movie was crap.”

again, with the look of heavy judgement. makes him want to keep egging you on on purpose.

“i get it that you’re a fan, but this isn’t a god damned fanmeeting, you know.”

jeno looks at you, a ghost of a grin on his lips. “does your company know you act like this?” 

“of course not, how’d you think i stayed in the industry for so long if i don’t know how to act fake,” you roll your eyes. “back to the point. eric sohn. japan. can you bring him back here?”

“consider it done,” he says. his phone is out. you returned his shit earlier after wrapping things up in the basement. he then keys in a couple texts to a few contacts, eyes flickering between you and the screen. “and then what do you want? how badly do you wanna see him ruined? a few broken ribs and bruises? ‘til his face is unrecognizable? or—”

jeno closes his phone and drops it back into his pocket. he leans forward to get a better look at your face. 

his voice is low, quiet, and hushed, yet pulls down the air into the ground with a gravity heavier than that of the earth’s.

“want him dead?” 

silence permeates the room. he can’t read the thoughts running inside your pretty little head— save for the inkling that you don’t find his last suggestion the very least bit appealing.

“are you stupid? don’t you dare fucking touch him.”

your voice is aghast— offended. well, what did he expect. you might’ve acted the entire night like you had little to no regard to violence and the law— sending a bunch of men to kidnap him and all and waking up tied in a shady basement inside your own home, a few suspicious materials here and there, that’s got him thinking you’ve got graver intentions than a simple splash of water and a probably slap in the face.

“i only asked you to bring him to me and nothing more. don’t get ahead of yourself.”

but maybe there’s still a line that you you’re not willing to cross. 

“what’s the point if i don’t get to fuck him up myself?”

jeno feels a rattle in his bones.

he drills his eyes into you— your face, devoid of any jest or hint of hesitation. it’s all red and raw reprehension.

“what? the hell are you staring at?”

the words tumble out of his lips before he knows it.

“think you could let me watch?”

there’s a pause. it’s cold and quiet in your office. you’re looking at him like he just desecrated your parents graves. in jeno’s defense, you put the image in his head and his mouth doesn't have the safety on. when he doesn’t take it back, you sigh, place a set of fingers on your temple, and say, “get the job done first before making any extra requests.” 

well, that’s not a no at the very least.

“i’ve already made my payment so you better see to it that you accomplish your end of the deal.”

eyes flicker to the thin stack of autographed cards. he gets up from the chair with a rattle and takes it off the desk. “you sure about this, doll?” he asks, gaze flitting back to your face. “if word gets out, you’d be pretty much kissing your career goodbye, you know.” and after receiving your payment, he sets his arms down on the surface, leaning forward, grabbing taking out the red pen you’ve been using and scribbling his contact information on a spare sheet of paper.

he drops the pen with a clatter and takes a look at your expression.

“that’s fifteen years down the drain.”

you look like you’re tired of his shit.

“if word gets out that means you’re crap at your job,” you sneer, slapping your hand over the note as he finished writing. you slide it over to you with a screech. “didn’t you say you could handle this better than the incompetent fucks that brought you here?”

you’re looking up at him like you’re looking down, eyes snapped up, expectant and unforgiving.

jeno puts his hands up in a surrender, a sliver of a smile playing on his lips.

“you got it.”

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[hannie-dul-set]

fuck you, aphrodite! [3].

SYNOPSIS. ready, set— let the love games begin! the cupid industry is a competitive business. donghyuck, jeno, and johnny know that very well. right on the cusp of their sweet, sweet promotion (and finally graduating from petty match-making and making sure their assignments finally fucking hook up), the three find themselves in a three-way battle because for their last assignment, the love lottery just had to give them the same person to manipulate into falling in love with their respective assignments— you.

PAIRINGS. kim doyoung, na jaemin, jung jaehyun x fem! reader.TAGS. socmed! au, cupid! au, college! au, org! au, another reverse harem of weird/asshole/loser men! the hannie-dul-set holy trinity of leading men! rom-com, explicit language and jokes, mentions of violence and hazing.

NOTE. there's supposed to be a written bit at the end but i decided to throw it into the next part becaise i was alr abt to hit to photo limit HAHAHAHHA i got too carried away with the jaemin moments 💔💔💔

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

TAGLIST. @grassbutneo @anothershorthuman @n0tprettybutt1red @totatite @ebebesstuff

fuck you, aphrodite! © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[hannie-dul-set]

i could put jaemin, ricky, beomgyu, soobin, and jeonghan from one to five on this list really 😭😭 but to prove that i am in fact still the slightest bit sane, i'm gonna throw in some normal topics instead 😔.

my sweet angel baby dearest most beloved cat.

the revised penal code of the philippines HUAHAHAHAH.

political theory (and their applications to the campus politics and political behavior at my uni!!! juicy as fucking hell!!!).

the fucking hatchetfield trilogy.

people that i hate and why HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA.

tagging anyone who wants 2 do this heehee.

i was tagged by @svintsandghosts

I saw this meme going around on twitter and I think it'll be perfect for this account.

List 5 topics you can talk on for an hour without preparing any material.

bloodborne

horror media

art [depends on era] & architecture

jay and jake

ateez

ill tag my usual hotties but y'all ain't gotta do it: @drunkhazed @yeonzzzn @alvojake

[hannie-dul-set]

EXTENSION: AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno realizes his type in women after getting kidnapped by his celebrity crush. w — swearing, kidnapping, crime in general. 1.4k words.

note — part 2 to an unlikely fanmeeting. to the anon who said that they envisioned eric from tbz as the ex boyfriend, this one's for u. enjoy.

a swoosh on the top. a loop at the bottom. two slopes intersecting before breaking of to scratch a little heart at the tail end. the ink is red. it’s always red.

“is this all?”

you remove the cardstock from the table, and with a sharp movement you snap your arm straight, presenting it to him. jeno looks at your signature— with the pretty loops and all, but he smacks his tongue in disappointment. there’s an impatient twitch on your brow as you eye him, waiting seated on the other side of your desk. jeno snatches the autographed card, “of course not," then tucks it into the chest pocket of his no longer damp shirt.

there’s a clench of your jaw, a tightening of your stare. your eyes stopped quivering even since starting the deal. a shame, because jeno had a lot of fun backing you into a corner.

still, he likes seeing you mad too— sharp gaze, knitted brows, lips on the verge of a sneer— almost foreign to the gentle and sweet expressions natural to your features. there’s no mix of melancholic blue like when you’re acting out a scene. this one’s impersonal, like you’ve got no shits to give. it’s red. all red.

jeno prefers red.

he leans a little closer. your annoyance shifts to suspicion. he rests an arm on your desk, shifting his weight to it. a single tap on the stack of blank cardstock. “i need a couple bit more,” he says, a quirk of the lips. “my boys like you a lot, too.”

a pause. then a sigh. you roll your eyes and shoo him off your personal space with a wave, to which he hums and obediently follows, and while the scratches of pen against paper fill your office space, jeno takes the once in a lifetime opportunity to snoop around a celebrity’s room.

the whole is flushed with dark mahogany, a singular lamp illuminating the area from the ceiling. there’s a case lined with countless trophies and plaques and certificates and awards. there’s a wall with a giant poster of your face on it. he flits his eyes over to you on the desk, blank faced as you sign each layer of cardstock one by one like a machine, then back to the bigger version of your face on the wall, smiley-eyed and innocent.

there’s a laugh trying to claw out of his throat. he spins his heels and returns to your desk.

“wait," he says, interrupting you from finishing the last card on the pile. your hand jerks to a stop. you look up at him, what now? on your expression. jeno is pretty sure he’s done a negative amount of good things to deserve seeing all these different kinds of faces from you. “can you put park jisung on that one?”

“what?”

“nice kid. a little clumsy. good with the bat,” jeno answers and you look like you could care less. “he cried three times watching sunwater. give him a little treat.”

you, once again, let out a exhale and continue writing with a rather aggressive scribble, ending the note with a pressure-pointed dot in the bottom right corner. “happy?” you deride.

he hums, “that’s not the attitude of someone who wants something from me,” and slides the stack of cards to his side of the desk, collecting it between his hands and slides them in between each other with a shuffle. “but anyhow, let’s get to talking.”

“finally.”

three loud taps on the table as he sets down the autographed cards. jeno takes the plush seat in front of your desk and drags it closer.

“you want us to abduct your ex boyfriend.” you affirm. “who is it? the eric sohn guy i keep seeing you on the news with?” a look of judgement overrides your expression. jeno simply shrugs. you can’t blame him for the fact that your face and name is everywhere.

“whatever,” you sigh. “anyway, yes, i want that bitch back here. he ran away to japan after i caught him fucking shin yona two days before our god damned anniversary.”

“damn. his loss.” 

“the fucker knows i can’t run after him because my schedule is packed this week. one of which is an ad shoot with the bitch yona, by the way. if she doesn’t pull out voluntarily, i’ll see to it that she does.”

you sure do swear quite a lot. “i think i’ve seen her before. was it firefly? i don’t know, that movie was crap.”

again, with the look of heavy judgement. makes him want to keep egging you on on purpose.

“i get it that you’re a fan, but this isn’t a god damned fanmeeting, you know.”

jeno looks at you, a ghost of a grin on his lips. “does your company know you act like this?” 

“of course not, how’d you think i stayed in the industry for so long if i don’t know how to act fake,” you roll your eyes. “back to the point. eric sohn. japan. can you bring him back here?”

“consider it done,” he says. his phone is out. you returned his shit earlier after wrapping things up in the basement. he then keys in a couple texts to a few contacts, eyes flickering between you and the screen. “and then what do you want? how badly do you wanna see him ruined? a few broken ribs and bruises? ‘til his face is unrecognizable? or—”

jeno closes his phone and drops it back into his pocket. he leans forward to get a better look at your face. 

his voice is low, quiet, and hushed, yet pulls down the air into the ground with a gravity heavier than that of the earth’s.

“want him dead?” 

silence permeates the room. he can’t read the thoughts running inside your pretty little head— save for the inkling that you don’t find his last suggestion the very least bit appealing.

“are you stupid? don’t you dare fucking touch him.”

your voice is aghast— offended. well, what did he expect. you might’ve acted the entire night like you had little to no regard to violence and the law— sending a bunch of men to kidnap him and all and waking up tied in a shady basement inside your own home, a few suspicious materials here and there, that’s got him thinking you’ve got graver intentions than a simple splash of water and a probably slap in the face.

“i only asked you to bring him to me and nothing more. don’t get ahead of yourself.”

but maybe there’s still a line that you you’re not willing to cross. 

“what’s the point if i don’t get to fuck him up myself?”

jeno feels a rattle in his bones.

he drills his eyes into you— your face, devoid of any jest or hint of hesitation. it’s all red and raw reprehension.

“what? the hell are you staring at?”

the words tumble out of his lips before he knows it.

“think you could let me watch?”

there’s a pause. it’s cold and quiet in your office. you’re looking at him like he just desecrated your parents graves. in jeno’s defense, you put the image in his head and his mouth doesn't have the safety on. when he doesn’t take it back, you sigh, place a set of fingers on your temple, and say, “get the job done first before making any extra requests.” 

well, that’s not a no at the very least.

“i’ve already made my payment so you better see to it that you accomplish your end of the deal.”

eyes flicker to the thin stack of autographed cards. he gets up from the chair with a rattle and takes it off the desk. “you sure about this, doll?” he asks, gaze flitting back to your face. “if word gets out, you’d be pretty much kissing your career goodbye, you know.” and after receiving your payment, he sets his arms down on the surface, leaning forward, grabbing taking out the red pen you’ve been using and scribbling his contact information on a spare sheet of paper.

he drops the pen with a clatter and takes a look at your expression.

“that’s fifteen years down the drain.”

you look like you’re tired of his shit.

“if word gets out that means you’re crap at your job,” you sneer, slapping your hand over the note as he finished writing. you slide it over to you with a screech. “didn’t you say you could handle this better than the incompetent fucks that brought you here?”

you’re looking up at him like you’re looking down, eyes snapped up, expectant and unforgiving.

jeno puts his hands up in a surrender, a sliver of a smile playing on his lips.

“you got it.”

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[hannie-dul-set]

EXTENSION: AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno realizes his type in women after getting kidnapped by his celebrity crush. w — swearing, kidnapping, crime in general. 1.4k words.

note — part 2 to an unlikely fanmeeting. to the anon who said that they envisioned eric from tbz as the ex boyfriend, this one's for u. enjoy.

a swoosh on the top. a loop at the bottom. two slopes intersecting before breaking of to scratch a little heart at the tail end. the ink is red. it’s always red.

“is this all?”

you remove the cardstock from the table, and with a sharp movement you snap your arm straight, presenting it to him. jeno looks at your signature— with the pretty loops and all, but he smacks his tongue in disappointment. there’s an impatient twitch on your brow as you eye him, waiting seated on the other side of your desk. jeno snatches the autographed card, “of course not," then tucks it into the chest pocket of his no longer damp shirt.

there’s a clench of your jaw, a tightening of your stare. your eyes stopped quivering even since starting the deal. a shame, because jeno had a lot of fun backing you into a corner.

still, he likes seeing you mad too— sharp gaze, knitted brows, lips on the verge of a sneer— almost foreign to the gentle and sweet expressions natural to your features. there’s no mix of melancholic blue like when you’re acting out a scene. this one’s impersonal, like you’ve got no shits to give. it’s red. all red.

jeno prefers red.

he leans a little closer. your annoyance shifts to suspicion. he rests an arm on your desk, shifting his weight to it. a single tap on the stack of blank cardstock. “i need a couple bit more,” he says, a quirk of the lips. “my boys like you a lot, too.”

a pause. then a sigh. you roll your eyes and shoo him off your personal space with a wave, to which he hums and obediently follows, and while the scratches of pen against paper fill your office space, jeno takes the once in a lifetime opportunity to snoop around a celebrity’s room.

the whole is flushed with dark mahogany, a singular lamp illuminating the area from the ceiling. there’s a case lined with countless trophies and plaques and certificates and awards. there’s a wall with a giant poster of your face on it. he flits his eyes over to you on the desk, blank faced as you sign each layer of cardstock one by one like a machine, then back to the bigger version of your face on the wall, smiley-eyed and innocent.

there’s a laugh trying to claw out of his throat. he spins his heels and returns to your desk.

“wait," he says, interrupting you from finishing the last card on the pile. your hand jerks to a stop. you look up at him, what now? on your expression. jeno is pretty sure he’s done a negative amount of good things to deserve seeing all these different kinds of faces from you. “can you put park jisung on that one?”

“what?”

“nice kid. a little clumsy. good with the bat,” jeno answers and you look like you could care less. “he cried three times watching sunwater. give him a little treat.”

you, once again, let out a exhale and continue writing with a rather aggressive scribble, ending the note with a pressure-pointed dot in the bottom right corner. “happy?” you deride.

he hums, “that’s not the attitude of someone who wants something from me,” and slides the stack of cards to his side of the desk, collecting it between his hands and slides them in between each other with a shuffle. “but anyhow, let’s get to talking.”

“finally.”

three loud taps on the table as he sets down the autographed cards. jeno takes the plush seat in front of your desk and drags it closer.

“you want us to abduct your ex boyfriend.” you affirm. “who is it? the eric sohn guy i keep seeing you on the news with?” a look of judgement overrides your expression. jeno simply shrugs. you can’t blame him for the fact that your face and name is everywhere.

“whatever,” you sigh. “anyway, yes, i want that bitch back here. he ran away to japan after i caught him fucking shin yona two days before our god damned anniversary.”

“damn. his loss.” 

“the fucker knows i can’t run after him because my schedule is packed this week. one of which is an ad shoot with the bitch yona, by the way. if she doesn’t pull out voluntarily, i’ll see to it that she does.”

you sure do swear quite a lot. “i think i’ve seen her before. was it firefly? i don’t know, that movie was crap.”

again, with the look of heavy judgement. makes him want to keep egging you on on purpose.

“i get it that you’re a fan, but this isn’t a god damned fanmeeting, you know.”

jeno looks at you, a ghost of a grin on his lips. “does your company know you act like this?” 

“of course not, how’d you think i stayed in the industry for so long if i don’t know how to act fake,” you roll your eyes. “back to the point. eric sohn. japan. can you bring him back here?”

“consider it done,” he says. his phone is out. you returned his shit earlier after wrapping things up in the basement. he then keys in a couple texts to a few contacts, eyes flickering between you and the screen. “and then what do you want? how badly do you wanna see him ruined? a few broken ribs and bruises? ‘til his face is unrecognizable? or—”

jeno closes his phone and drops it back into his pocket. he leans forward to get a better look at your face. 

his voice is low, quiet, and hushed, yet pulls down the air into the ground with a gravity heavier than that of the earth’s.

“want him dead?” 

silence permeates the room. he can’t read the thoughts running inside your pretty little head— save for the inkling that you don’t find his last suggestion the very least bit appealing.

“are you stupid? don’t you dare fucking touch him.”

your voice is aghast— offended. well, what did he expect. you might’ve acted the entire night like you had little to no regard to violence and the law— sending a bunch of men to kidnap him and all and waking up tied in a shady basement inside your own home, a few suspicious materials here and there, that’s got him thinking you’ve got graver intentions than a simple splash of water and a probably slap in the face.

“i only asked you to bring him to me and nothing more. don’t get ahead of yourself.”

but maybe there’s still a line that you you’re not willing to cross. 

“what’s the point if i don’t get to fuck him up myself?”

jeno feels a rattle in his bones.

he drills his eyes into you— your face, devoid of any jest or hint of hesitation. it’s all red and raw reprehension.

“what? the hell are you staring at?”

the words tumble out of his lips before he knows it.

“think you could let me watch?”

there’s a pause. it’s cold and quiet in your office. you’re looking at him like he just desecrated your parents graves. in jeno’s defense, you put the image in his head and his mouth doesn't have the safety on. when he doesn’t take it back, you sigh, place a set of fingers on your temple, and say, “get the job done first before making any extra requests.” 

well, that’s not a no at the very least.

“i’ve already made my payment so you better see to it that you accomplish your end of the deal.”

eyes flicker to the thin stack of autographed cards. he gets up from the chair with a rattle and takes it off the desk. “you sure about this, doll?” he asks, gaze flitting back to your face. “if word gets out, you’d be pretty much kissing your career goodbye, you know.” and after receiving your payment, he sets his arms down on the surface, leaning forward, grabbing taking out the red pen you’ve been using and scribbling his contact information on a spare sheet of paper.

he drops the pen with a clatter and takes a look at your expression.

“that’s fifteen years down the drain.”

you look like you’re tired of his shit.

“if word gets out that means you’re crap at your job,” you sneer, slapping your hand over the note as he finished writing. you slide it over to you with a screech. “didn’t you say you could handle this better than the incompetent fucks that brought you here?”

you’re looking up at him like you’re looking down, eyes snapped up, expectant and unforgiving.

jeno puts his hands up in a surrender, a sliver of a smile playing on his lips.

“you got it.”

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[hannie-dul-set]

EXTENSION: AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno realizes his type in women after getting kidnapped by his celebrity crush. w — swearing, kidnapping, crime in general. 1.4k words.

note — part 2 to an unlikely fanmeeting. to the anon who said that they envisioned eric from tbz as the ex boyfriend, this one's for u. enjoy.

a swoosh on the top. a loop at the bottom. two slopes intersecting before breaking of to scratch a little heart at the tail end. the ink is red. it’s always red.

“is this all?”

you remove the cardstock from the table, and with a sharp movement you snap your arm straight, presenting it to him. jeno looks at your signature— with the pretty loops and all, but he smacks his tongue in disappointment. there’s an impatient twitch on your brow as you eye him, waiting seated on the other side of your desk. jeno snatches the autographed card, “of course not," then tucks it into the chest pocket of his no longer damp shirt.

there’s a clench of your jaw, a tightening of your stare. your eyes stopped quivering even since starting the deal. a shame, because jeno had a lot of fun backing you into a corner.

still, he likes seeing you mad too— sharp gaze, knitted brows, lips on the verge of a sneer— almost foreign to the gentle and sweet expressions natural to your features. there’s no mix of melancholic blue like when you’re acting out a scene. this one’s impersonal, like you’ve got no shits to give. it’s red. all red.

jeno prefers red.

he leans a little closer. your annoyance shifts to suspicion. he rests an arm on your desk, shifting his weight to it. a single tap on the stack of blank cardstock. “i need a couple bit more,” he says, a quirk of the lips. “my boys like you a lot, too.”

a pause. then a sigh. you roll your eyes and shoo him off your personal space with a wave, to which he hums and obediently follows, and while the scratches of pen against paper fill your office space, jeno takes the once in a lifetime opportunity to snoop around a celebrity’s room.

the whole is flushed with dark mahogany, a singular lamp illuminating the area from the ceiling. there’s a case lined with countless trophies and plaques and certificates and awards. there’s a wall with a giant poster of your face on it. he flits his eyes over to you on the desk, blank faced as you sign each layer of cardstock one by one like a machine, then back to the bigger version of your face on the wall, smiley-eyed and innocent.

there’s a laugh trying to claw out of his throat. he spins his heels and returns to your desk.

“wait," he says, interrupting you from finishing the last card on the pile. your hand jerks to a stop. you look up at him, what now? on your expression. jeno is pretty sure he’s done a negative amount of good things to deserve seeing all these different kinds of faces from you. “can you put park jisung on that one?”

“what?”

“nice kid. a little clumsy. good with the bat,” jeno answers and you look like you could care less. “he cried three times watching sunwater. give him a little treat.”

you, once again, let out a exhale and continue writing with a rather aggressive scribble, ending the note with a pressure-pointed dot in the bottom right corner. “happy?” you deride.

he hums, “that’s not the attitude of someone who wants something from me,” and slides the stack of cards to his side of the desk, collecting it between his hands and slides them in between each other with a shuffle. “but anyhow, let’s get to talking.”

“finally.”

three loud taps on the table as he sets down the autographed cards. jeno takes the plush seat in front of your desk and drags it closer.

“you want us to abduct your ex boyfriend.” you affirm. “who is it? the eric sohn guy i keep seeing you on the news with?” a look of judgement overrides your expression. jeno simply shrugs. you can’t blame him for the fact that your face and name is everywhere.

“whatever,” you sigh. “anyway, yes, i want that bitch back here. he ran away to japan after i caught him fucking shin yona two days before our god damned anniversary.”

“damn. his loss.” 

“the fucker knows i can’t run after him because my schedule is packed this week. one of which is an ad shoot with the bitch yona, by the way. if she doesn’t pull out voluntarily, i’ll see to it that she does.”

you sure do swear quite a lot. “i think i’ve seen her before. was it firefly? i don’t know, that movie was crap.”

again, with the look of heavy judgement. makes him want to keep egging you on on purpose.

“i get it that you’re a fan, but this isn’t a god damned fanmeeting, you know.”

jeno looks at you, a ghost of a grin on his lips. “does your company know you act like this?” 

“of course not, how’d you think i stayed in the industry for so long if i don’t know how to act fake,” you roll your eyes. “back to the point. eric sohn. japan. can you bring him back here?”

“consider it done,” he says. his phone is out. you returned his shit earlier after wrapping things up in the basement. he then keys in a couple texts to a few contacts, eyes flickering between you and the screen. “and then what do you want? how badly do you wanna see him ruined? a few broken ribs and bruises? ‘til his face is unrecognizable? or—”

jeno closes his phone and drops it back into his pocket. he leans forward to get a better look at your face. 

his voice is low, quiet, and hushed, yet pulls down the air into the ground with a gravity heavier than that of the earth’s.

“want him dead?” 

silence permeates the room. he can’t read the thoughts running inside your pretty little head— save for the inkling that you don’t find his last suggestion the very least bit appealing.

“are you stupid? don’t you dare fucking touch him.”

your voice is aghast— offended. well, what did he expect. you might’ve acted the entire night like you had little to no regard to violence and the law— sending a bunch of men to kidnap him and all and waking up tied in a shady basement inside your own home, a few suspicious materials here and there, that’s got him thinking you’ve got graver intentions than a simple splash of water and a probably slap in the face.

“i only asked you to bring him to me and nothing more. don’t get ahead of yourself.”

but maybe there’s still a line that you you’re not willing to cross. 

“what’s the point if i don’t get to fuck him up myself?”

jeno feels a rattle in his bones.

he drills his eyes into you— your face, devoid of any jest or hint of hesitation. it’s all red and raw reprehension.

“what? the hell are you staring at?”

the words tumble out of his lips before he knows it.

“think you could let me watch?”

there’s a pause. it’s cold and quiet in your office. you’re looking at him like he just desecrated your parents graves. in jeno’s defense, you put the image in his head and his mouth doesn't have the safety on. when he doesn’t take it back, you sigh, place a set of fingers on your temple, and say, “get the job done first before making any extra requests.” 

well, that’s not a no at the very least.

“i’ve already made my payment so you better see to it that you accomplish your end of the deal.”

eyes flicker to the thin stack of autographed cards. he gets up from the chair with a rattle and takes it off the desk. “you sure about this, doll?” he asks, gaze flitting back to your face. “if word gets out, you’d be pretty much kissing your career goodbye, you know.” and after receiving your payment, he sets his arms down on the surface, leaning forward, grabbing taking out the red pen you’ve been using and scribbling his contact information on a spare sheet of paper.

he drops the pen with a clatter and takes a look at your expression.

“that’s fifteen years down the drain.”

you look like you’re tired of his shit.

“if word gets out that means you’re crap at your job,” you sneer, slapping your hand over the note as he finished writing. you slide it over to you with a screech. “didn’t you say you could handle this better than the incompetent fucks that brought you here?”

you’re looking up at him like you’re looking down, eyes snapped up, expectant and unforgiving.

jeno puts his hands up in a surrender, a sliver of a smile playing on his lips.

“you got it.”

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[hannie-dul-set]

can we get crumbs from your karma fic🫶 in honour of ricky sweat mv?

i haven't watched the mv yet if its out 😭😭😭 im so behind everything gosh uni life started to get busy again so i'm getting my riyangi license revoked 💔💔💔 here is a very big crumb to compensate for my crimes.

[hannie-dul-set]

the way i visit your account whenever i am on a jaemin brainrot and i stumble upon you making a jeno fic from the trope list i sent is giving me KILIG i will def take responsibility for sending inspo to write for dreamies 😚🤍

thank GOD you're taking responsibility because i just wrote an extension drabble and jeno has been in my brain for longer than i'm comfortable with.

[hannie-dul-set]

Omg an unlikely fan meeting is SO GOOD. I would DIE for a full version if you ever feel inspired for one, i love the dynamic already omg doing it for an autograph, a grittier film, "my ex isnt this hot", i got a few chuckles out of that

TO BE VERY HONEST i didn't want to write anything more for it.....but i have an extra scene planned out rn and the dialogue is so dumb it'd be a waste to let it rot in my notes app 😭😭 debating whether or not to barf it out as another blurb because i do not!!! want to be bothered with fleshing it out as a full fic but at the SAME TIME i feel like.....it'd be spicy as a full fic u know 😔😔.

i might just drop drabbles here n there whenever i'm feeling funky because this dynamic i really fun to write and i'm glad you love it as well HAHAHAHA. the my ex isn't this hot line started it all really 😔😔🤙🤙.

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[hannie-dul-set]

did in intentionally format the jeno drabble to look like a smut fic only for people to get slapped in the face with bullshit absurdity? absolutely!!!

[hannie-dul-set]

mogi and nabi r such cute titles tgt omg ur mind

my insectgyu duology 🤩🤩🤩 i'm pretty sure my train of thought while coming up with the title was "beomgyu is annoying......what is an annoying thing.....mosquitoes.......what is mosquito in korean......mogi......."

[hannie-dul-set]

“an unlikely fanmeeting” was SO GOOD omg i’ve been thinking wayy too much about jeno lately when i should be studying🥲. the way you write your scenes is just so descriptive and i feel like i’m actually there or watching a movie of everything taking place. the tension between jeno and the reader!! i wonder what he’s gonna do next? also why can i see the reader’s ex being eric from tbz😭

aaa thank u!! whenever i write i always try to directly translate the movie scene my brain into narrative form HHAHAHAHAHA eric as the ex is SO fitting oh my god 😭😭😭 tbh, this entire premise could eventually end up becoming a 60k fic or some shit but i already have too much wips in my docs......jeno this is all i can offer......

[hannie-dul-set]

an unlikely fan meeting reminds me of the Netflix show triad princess!

looked it up and it looks like so much fun!!! huhu when will i have the time to watch shows 😔😔.

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[hannie-dul-set]

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.

p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.

note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.

when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.

the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.

seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.

splash!

“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”

cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.

“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”  

cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.

jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.

“use your fucking mouth, bast—”

but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.

jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.

“oh.”

must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.

“oh, shit. one moment.”

clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.

he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.

“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”

his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.

“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”

the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.

“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”

drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.

“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”

a beat of silence. 

“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”

your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.

“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”

“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”

the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.

“who are you exactly?”

“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”

he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.

AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.