Lee Heeseung Imagines 2

Heat with the Cold

Him as your cold arranged mafia husband.

You had learned to navigate life as the wife of a mafia boss, but nothing could prepare you for the emotional rollercoaster of being married to Heeseung. The man who was supposed to protect you, to love you, often felt like a stranger. There were moments—fleeting, tender moments—when he'd let his guard down and reveal a glimpse of the warmth you knew was hidden beneath the icy exterior. But more often than not, he was cold, distant, and emotionally unavailable.

It was frustrating.

You stood in the lavish kitchen of your shared home, a place that was both beautiful and imposing, just like Heeseung. The silence felt heavy, suffocating, as you prepared dinner, your thoughts swirling with irritation. Heeseung had been particularly cold lately, dismissing your attempts to engage with him, acting like you were nothing more than a business arrangement rather than his wife. You had tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just the weight of his responsibilities, but today was different. Today, you'd had enough.

"Do you even care?" you snapped, turning to face him, your heart pounding with frustration. "I feel like I'm just another piece in your game, Heeseung! You treat me like I don't matter!"

Heeseung's gaze flickered to you, his sharp eyes revealing nothing but indifference. "You're being overly dramatic. It's just business," he replied coolly, as if your feelings were mere inconveniences to his meticulously crafted world.

"Just business?" you echoed incredulously, your voice rising in pitch. "Is that really all I am to you? Do you even care about me at all?"

His expression hardened, and you could see a flicker of annoyance cross his face. "You're my wife. You should understand your place," he said, his voice devoid of warmth.

That was the last straw. You had endured enough of his coldness, his dismissive remarks, and his emotional walls. You turned on your heel, ready to storm out of the room and away from him. You needed space, needed to breathe without the weight of his icy demeanor pressing down on you.

But just as you reached the door, Heeseung's hand shot out, gripping your wrist with a force that was both surprising and unsettling. You turned to face him, anger boiling within you. "Let me go, Heeseung!" you demanded, pulling against his hold.

Instead of releasing you, he pushed you against the wall with a sudden intensity that took your breath away. The force of it left you momentarily stunned, your heart racing. You were face-to-face with him, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, contrasting sharply with the coldness he often portrayed.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, a mix of fear and defiance coursing through your veins. You tried to push him away, but he was unyielding, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

He leaned in, his expression shifting from cold to something more heated, something that sent shivers down your spine. "You don't get to just walk away," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Not after everything."

Before you could formulate a response, his lips crashed against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs.