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@themfchase
masterlist. about me. fic recs.
update on souvenir.
hello, after these two very long weeks we all had, i'm here debating with myself weather i should or shouldn't continue souvenir. i've gone back and forth with it. on one hand, it feels odd to write a story that was heavily based on the love and attachment of seven brothers, whilst all this is happening, and there is still no conclusion or closure to enhypen's future as a group with seven members, and on the other hand, regardless of what is going on, i believe the love that we've witnessed between them for the past six years is still as real as it has always been and that will not change regardless of the outcome. i do, however, want to know from you, reader, if reading this story still interests you, perhaps not now, that our wounds are still open, still fresh, but in a new future, or if you no longer feel this story will bring you entertainment, escapism, and emotions. with that being said, i still firmly believe enhypen is seven, that has not changed, nor it will, and i will continue to fight for a tomorrow where heeseung is a part of the family he worked so hard for, beside his six brothers. please let me know how you've been feeling, and what your thoughts are on the future of souvernir. xoxo, may.
Enhypen is 7 .
hee-log for @desireunleash ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°
after the news, i'm not sure how to proceed with souvenir. how to proceed writing a story that is so heavily backed by the love of seven brothers, as seven. i hope you all can understand, i'm taking some time to put souvenir on a shelf, may we all be comforted. and above all, pray that our efforts to make belift go back on their statement something real.
enhypen is seven, and will always be seven.
SOUVENIR - (l.hs.) VI
"TAKING MY BREATH A SOUVENIR THAT YOU CAN KEEP" LEE HEESEUNG x ƒ! reader
‒ souvenir. (m) series. ✎ [45k+ words] chapter V. [7.7k] read chapter I read chapter II read chapter III read chapter IV read chapter V masterlist. ⨯ ㅤㅤㅤrated: ── r, contains depictions of extreme violence, soft gore, mature sexual content, emotional turmoil, torture, brainwashing, death, and existential crisis. reader discretion is advised.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤtheme: ── assassins au!, action, angst, romance, and eventual smut. slow-ish burn. y/n is very stubborn and very distrustful. special appearances of ot7 enha.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤsynopsis: ── what a predicament. reaching for the hand of the one who should be pointing a gun at your head instead. you of all people, no one. a shadow with no past and no future, a puppet to a bigger machine, who followed the rules and orders so thoroughly. how reckless of him, or perhaps, how reckless of you. ㅤ
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤan: after what seems like forever, chapter six is here to greet you. some content warnings for this chapter: noncon drug use, and explicit sexual content (finally, we all cheered). this chapter comes like a kiss to the cheek, i might say. i struggled a little to get to it, given how much needed to happen for our y/n to finally be able to let go. i am so happy you are all enjoying this series up until here, may i say, the next chapter is a pivotal moment in this series, and i am looking forward to sharing it with you all. as always, thank you so much for reading the stories i come up with, it means the world when i get your comments, your reblos and likes, my heart is full and my inspiration is renewed. please like, coment and reblog so this can get to the right people, and as always, see you in the next chapter, xoxo.
The silence was dreadful. He made sure to stay at least two feet away from you for the remaining hours in that room once he came back. Giving you a sandwich he had picked up at a convenience store and some coffee. He didn't speak, he didn't even look at you, and it made your insides twist uncomfortably. When the time came, Heeseung got up, checking his gun one more time, like he had done the whole rest of the evening, and then he was looking at you.
"Ready?"
You only nodded, standing and following him out the door. When the night air of Tokyo met you, the sound was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the silence that had permeated for the last two and a half hours inside that room, and somehow, you appreciated the chaos more than that.
Heeseung didn't take the convenient route, opting to take back alleys and go through back doors. You only followed, taking mental notes along the way, memorizing the path as you were trained to. Each dark hallway you walked into, each restaurant kitchen you passed through. One after another, you took a mental picture, gripping your gun tightly, making sure you were aware of your surroundings.
You were breathless after half an hour. Heeseung was slick on his feet, fast, just like you had already noticed, but watching him slip in and out of places unnoticed, somehow made you lighter on your feet, trying to keep up with him, matching his pace. He didn't glance back once to see if you had been left behind, and even if that sent an uncomfortable feeling down your spine, you knew it was better this way.
After what you counted could only be another hour of walking, sneaking, hiding your faces, avoiding small crowds, Heeseung stopped in front of an abandoned three-story building. The outside was falling apart, with leakage and rust coating the walls. He looked around, eyes lifting to something before your eyes followed. It was a camera disguised as a street lamp. If you had only glanced at it, you couldn't tell, but paying close enough attention, you could see the little red light. You heard something unlock, and Heeseung was pushing the door open. Only then did he look back as you made your way in, and you don't know why you avoided his eyes when you walked in.
You went up the stairs, taking note of the hallways, doors barred, one after the other, thick chains on them. No light, no noise. Just the echo of your footsteps as you went up, one floor, two floors, then the last. He walked to the very last door, also barred, also chained, your brows furrowing before he waited, and the sound of an electronic lock sounded in the silent hallway. It came open whole, with the bars and chains, thick, heavy door being pried open by a tall boy with raven black hair, sharp eyes, and a built frame. He eyes Heeseung with subtle annoyance and relief, then you, sizing you up and down.
"Come in." His voice was deep, low, manly. And you followed Heeseung inside, unprepared for what awaited. The walls were thick and covered in sound-isolation panels; the room was large, with no walls separating other rooms except for one, a bathroom, with the door open. The ceiling was high, painted dark, and the windows all covered in thick wood, except for one, on the far end of the room, letting in the city and moonlight. Against one of the tall walls stood a large table, with computer screens glowing green and blue, a single office chair in front of it, and several empty, tipped-over takeaway coffee cups. On the other end were two single beds: one unmade, with white sheets tossed over it; the other, pristine, perfectly made. "Took you fucking long enough." The boy grumbled, hugging Heeseung. It was a quick hug, patting the older one on the back, before taking a seat on the revolving office chair and looking at you. "Is this her?"
Heeseung ignored his remark, jaw setting as he inhaled, running his fingers through his hair. "Yes, we should get this over with. Where's Sunoo?"
"Not here." Was all he said, side eyeing you, which you took as a sign he wasn't willing to give up the information. "We need him for the bug," Heeseung argued, looking around the space, as if he hadn't been there in a while. "I can do the bug just fine, Heeseung." The boy rolled his eyes, annoyed again.
"No, you can't. Last time you tried, you fucked the whole system up. Call Sunoo, we need him." He was adamant, stern with the boy, giving his back to him as he walked towards you, almost fatherly. "This might take a few minutes, so take a seat, it'll be over soon, and you can go on with your life." Bitterness coated his tongue, and it made you wince. "Heeseung—" He sighed loudly, eyes fluttering for just a second before he cut you off. "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick. I'm not being this way just for your sake, but for mine too, so just please..." He exhaled. "Let's get this over with and move on." You pressed your lips together, inhaling deeply and accepting it before you nodded. Heeseung turned his back on you again and walked towards the boy. "Ri-ki, I'll go call Jungwon to let him know we got here. Did you call Sunoo?" "Yeah, he didn't pick up, again." There was a laziness to Ri-ki's voice.
"Again? What does that mean?" Heeseung's brows were furrowed as he walked towards the younger boy, putting his phone, which he had taken from his pocket, down.
Ri-ki sighed, blinking a few times, a clear sign of concern, before he looked up at you, then at his brother. "He hasn't made contact in three days..." You watched Heeseung's brows shoot up to the top of his head. "And you didn't think this was important information to share with me over the last few days?" He was annoyed. No, he was concerned. "I thought I could find him..." Ri-ki's voice got low, apologetic as his eyes fell to his lap. Heeseung's hands lifted to his hair, running through it and gripping for a second before he was quiet, looking at the floor. You could see a million things going through his head; he swallowed. "Okay... Okay. What was his mission?"
Ri-ki turned to the computer, bringing up files, and you stood, taking slow, quiet steps towards them both. "Drug Cartel from the Golden Triangle decided to steal Dojin-kai territory; they came in heavy. Not only drug trafficking, but guns too, heavy, heavy armory. The movement was strange for a place like this, so the Dojin-kai asked us to look into it quietly. No kills, just gather intel."
Each file Ri-ki pulled up had your brows furrowing. "Why are they selling military-grade weapons in a drug trade district?" Your voice came out without you noticing. Both Heeseung and Ri-ki turned to look at you. It was Ri-ki who responded. "We don't know, but Sunoo went in about a week ago. He found out there was something shady going on, spent the whole night awake, going through files, hacking police profiles, systems, then when I woke up, he said he was going back in... Didn't tell me what he found, and he never made contact again."
"Where was his last destination?" Heeseung asked, standing fully. "A club, the Thai dealers were selling this new drug there, but Sunoo thought it was a cover-up for something else." Heeseung moved, walking to where he had left his gun, checking it, and tucking it behind his back. "Okay, pull up the details. I'm going after him." He didn't even hesitate to make up his mind, no planning, nothing. That was how he operated. He improvised.
"Wait, what?" It was you asking, following after Heeseung as he reached another wall, pressing a latch that opened up to an arsenal of weapons. He loaded on ammo, strapping a few knives to his boot, tucking one into his arm sleeve where you knew there was a holster. "Just stay put, I'll go in, get Sunoo, and come back." He made it sound simple. "Yeah, and what if you don't find him? What if you disappear, then what?" You crossed your arms, and he looked at you. "Then Ri-ki does what he's supposed to do, and you go on with your life." With a straight face, you scoffed.
"No. Absolutely not, I'm going with you." It was his turn to cackle, an ironic breath of air leaving him. "No, you're not." He started walking towards his coat. "Yes, I am." You were adamant, following him around, while Ri-ki followed you both with his eyes, curious and amused. "Why do you even care? I thought you wanted to get this over with and move on." He shoved his jacket on, irritated.
"That doesn't even fucking matter, I'm going. And you can't fucking tell me what to do." He stopped then, eyes glued to yours, holding your gaze as you used all your determination to hold his. And it was hard. Heeseung's intensity had a shiver running down your spine. "You're fucking annoying, did you know that?" He lifted his brows as he said it. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?" You challenged, trying to soothe yourself. His lips parted, but he tilted his head to the side, teeth sinking into his lower lip before he exhaled.
"Fine. If you slow me down, I'm leaving you behind." He was doing exactly what he said he would. Treat you like another agent, someone he didn't care about, someone he didn't have any concern for. And even if you felt victorious that you were going with him on this mission, a part of you also shrieked in discomfort. Watching him so indifferent.
You went into the bathroom to change, finding some old clothes Ri-ki had kept around from when he was a teenager that fit you properly, you strapped yourself up, hidden compartments for knives, your gun and a backup in case anything went wrong and when you left the bathroom, Heeseung was talking to Ri-ki in private, closer to the only uncovered window in the place. He spotted you, patting the younger boy on the shoulder, leaning in for another hug before he approached you. Your eyes went to the younger boy for a second. You understood the look on his face; he didn't trust you, but he was also worried about Sunoo, so he didn't have another choice but to trust you. Heeseung stood in front of you, all agent, not a single sliver of the playful man you had met. "Ok, let's go."
The club was called Madam Saint. The name itself had you lifting a brow as you both went in, not having too much trouble with the bouncer since he was too busy beating some guy. Your eyes adjusted as the night street light was quickly replaced by red and purple neon of the hallway, loud music reverberating through, and then, you were surrounded by the echo of nightlife in Tokyo as you approached the main area.
The place was packed, too many bodies pressing against each other as the hard strobe light made you squint, forcing your vision. It was hard to see, but you could make out bodies, half-naked, dancing, drinking, kissing, fucking, all around you, lulled by the hard techno played by the very androgenous DJ you quickly glanced at. The bass was low and loud, vibrating against and inside your body in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. "Keep your eyes open for anything suspicious!" You turned your eyes away from the chaotic crowd to Heeseung, who was now looking at you, yelling over the music. You nodded, and both of you infiltrated the crowd.
You walked through the bodies, being shoved here and there, keeping your eyes as sharp as you could given the poor lighting and the strobe of color that would blind you from time to time. You spotted the bar area, which extended from one end to the other, with hundreds of expensive liquor bottles placed against the mirrored wall behind the bartenders.
On one side, there was a dark hallway, and on the other a spiral stairwell that led up to what you assumed was the VIP areas. You looked up, not having moved much since you parted ways with Heeseung, trying to spot anything different, any movement that contrasted with the club's general vibe. Everyone was either half-naked or draped in leather and chains. Glowing, sweaty skin with glitter, or red, angry marks from groping or biting. Your eyes skimmed through the upstairs VIP area, the first two booths filled with imagery one would expect from a pornographic website, women, men, an array of explicit actions that unphased you. Your body swayed as you were bumped into repeatedly, feeling your body grow hotter as the heat increased. Finally, your eyes landed on something misplaced, or rather, someone.
You saw a pair of eyes looking straight at you, hard and void. His hair was dark, his features sharp; he was an ice-cold presence in a too-hot environment. You avoided his gaze, you had to think, you had to either get to Heeseung or get to the man. You didn't have much time to think, so you decided on the latter. You started moving towards the spiral staircase, gaze lifting again, only to watch him turn and disappear into the dark parts of the booth he was in.
You rushed. Cursing mentally as you tried to make your way through the sea of pressed-up bodies, not wanting to lose sight of the man. And that's when you were stopped, being grabbed by the shoulder, your fight or flight kicked in as you were turned around, before you could say or do anything, the man blew something in your face, your eyes shut as you inhaled, you looked at the stranger. He was smiling, wide and lazy, his shirt off, glitter sticking to his skin, a sheen of sweat. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he walked into the crowd.
Suddenly, panic filled you. What had he done? Had you been poisoned? You tried to go after him, yelling, "Wait!" over the music, but it fell on deaf ears. Your heart racing, your adrenaline spiking before you felt it, a sluggish feeling that made your eyes grow lidded. You exhaled. Slowing your steps.
Everything felt light; your bones felt as if they weighed nothing. It was as if you waltzed in place, awaying without even wanting to. You looked around, the bright neons and the strobe slowing down as they mixed in a beautiful array of colors. As if it were the twilight sky right in the middle of the club. It was hot, you felt hot all over, a need to rid yourself of your clothes, an uncontrollable desire to just smile and laugh and move, but most of all, a desperate need to touch. Every single body that pressed into you had you gasping, every brush of skin had you fluttering your eyes; it all felt so sensitive, so good. You closed your eyes, feeling the beat in every inch of your skin, the need to move along to it. And you did. You slowly swayed to the beat, letting go.
"No name." It whispered in your ear, and you furrowed your brows. "I have a name." You whispered to yourself as you moved, as the chaotic sounds all over you echoed and mixed, blended, and became a soundwave inside your head. "Your name is Y/N." You heard his voice, the memory of it, as if it were right there at the foot of your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine as you moved, as your body continued to brush against the faceless ones around you.
"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N..." You repeated slowly as your mind drifted to the press of his lips, to his grip on your hip, to the warmth of his skin, him, him, him. You could only furrow your brows deeper, a deep-rooted desire, a deep-rooted need. You needed him. You wanted him.
"Y/N?" Oh, the sweet sound of your name when he said it. You were abruptly turned, your body taking a few more seconds to follow as you were met by Heeseung, his brows furrowed in concern, before he thumbed your chin, looking at the dust that, unbeknownst to you, was all over your face. He spoke, but you didn't hear him, you only looked at his face, his beautiful, beautiful, blurry and glowing face, and you leaned in, you couldn't help it, capturing his lips, kissing him, slow, deep, wanting. He froze, surprised, pulling away and staring at you in surprise.
The dust was now all over his face and lips. He blinked a few times as he looked into your eyes, saw it then, the desperate need, and he exhaled, his eyes growing lidded, his hands reaching for your hip and gripping to pull you closer; it burned. It ached and burned, you whined, and he definetly hear it as he pressed his lips to yours, finally kissing you back, just as wanting, just as needy.
That's when you tasted the sweetness from whatever it was the man had blown on your face on your tongue. It was delightful, it was intense, just the way the kiss was, and each twist and press of your lips against his became more feverish, feeling his body become sluggish, his hands gripping, pressing you to him with desperation, yet slow and lazy. It was suffocating. Branded into your brain as if it laughed at you, how well it fit, how good it felt to be kissed by him. What a ridiculous person you had been, to deprive yourself of his taste, of the way you could feel his undying want for you. There were no questions of why or what the point was; you just kissed and kissed him as if it were air, even if you were growing breathless by the second.
You pulled away to catch your breath, breathing against his lips, and you met his eyes. They were glossed over like yours, his cheeks slightly flushed, his skin glinting in the sheer layer of sweat. You leaned in, brushing your lips on his cheek, up to his ear, and he shuddered, hands gripping as if to steady himself. "Heeseung..." You whispered, and he almost groaned at the sound of his name coming from your lips. "I lied." His hands moved, mapping your body as if his life depended on it, his lips finding the shell of your ear, exhaling and grazing, a smile so devilish spreading on his lips against your skin. "You lied?" He asked, and you chuckled, the sound echoing in your head. It was so clear to you now, it was so simple.
"I lied." You pressed your body to his, his breath hitching in his throat; you could feel him. "I do want you." You turned your bad to him, swaying, wrapping his arms around your waist, and leaning your head back on his shoulder, exposing your neck, and he didn't hesitate as his lips grazed the length of it, kissing, nipping, exhaling against it, and suddenly, the warmth was gone. You nearly stumbled back into the empty spot where he had been. Heeseung was no longer there, only the crowd of bodies and blurry faces. The lightness you felt was quickly replaced by something heavy, the sounds echoing unpleasantly, the deep, intense beat now making it feel like your pulse was racing. You couldn't breathe as panic replaced the feeling of serenity. Eyes looking around, but everything was a blur or light and color; you couldn't make out a single face, couldn't make out the distance between you and the bar, or the exit, or anything. You stood there, looking around, breath picking up, panic and anxiety creeping up your throat. Had it been real, had he even been there with you? Where was he?
"Heeseung?" You whispered into the loudness, growing dizzy with how disoriented you had become. "Heeseung?" You called again, knowing it was too low to be heard by anyone. Where was he? Had he been taken? Was he gone?
Have you failed again? Failed at being an agent, trying to be... Normal? Had you failed to show humanity in indulging in freedom? Everything felt wrong, suffocating. And you slowly started to close in on yourself. The walls grew tall, the room growing darker, your breathing shallow. Spinning, spinning, spinning. You were going to fall. You were going to die.
Hands gripped at your shoulder, he was there, his face, his worried eyes, now no longer lidded and glossed over, you couldn't hold the sob that ripped from your throat and you gripped at his shirt. "Hey, I got you. I got you." You could read his lips, the muffled sound of his voice, and you were being pulled away, his hand gripping at your wrist hard, fast, pulling your heavy body along with him till you were in the dark hallway beside the bar, being shoved into a door. You winced at the bright light of the room, panic still gripping at your lungs, your ears ringing, your grip still tight on him as you were forced to sit in a chair.
"Give it to her!" Heeseung shouted, angry, worried. So fucking worried. The sound of his voice alone soothed you a little, and then you noticed the second person, the boy had fox-like features, eyes sharp and delicate lips, beautiful. Like a painting. It went in and out of focus as you looked at him, a lazy smile spreading on your lips amid the panic that still rushed through you.
"You're beautiful..." You mumbled as your vision grew even blurrier. The walls were caving in. And before they could suffocate you, a cup was being placed on your lips, forcing you to drink down the liquid. You couldn't even control your own body, let alone stop whatever was being forced down your throat. It could be poison, for all you knew, and you swallowed, coughing once they pulled away, one hand lifting to your throat and the other on your thigh, holding your body up as you finally let go of Heeseung.
It was somewhat quick. The sluggishness was the first thing that stopped, feeling you had better contol over your body, then, you shook your head, your vision going back to normal, the bright light no longer making you wince. The last thing was the sound, echoy and chaotic, now organized and dull inside the room, only the vibrating beat of the main area outside. Suddenly, you were hyperaware of yourself and your surroundings. You looked up and saw Heeseung, then flicked your eyes to the fox-eyed boy. Realization hit you. You looked at Heeseung again, his lips swollen, his cheeks still slightly flushed. The way you had both practically eaten one another amongst a sea of sexually deprived people.
You had been drugged.
Of course, you had been drugged. It wouldn't have been the first time, but it definitely had gotten you by surprise. You inhaled, one hand lifting to brush your hair away from your face, then the dust that still lingered on your skin. You grimaced, a little ashamed.
"What the fuck was that?" You looked up at the fox-eyed boy. "It's called pixie-dust, it's an inhibitor drug, kinda like LSD with Ecstasy, but times ten, works faster, lasts longer." The boy said, shrugging his shoulder. You had been drugged at a club, and you weren't sure it had been random; you couldn't be. You clenched your jaw. "I'll fucking kill that man." You stood, Heeseung holding you by the shoulder, forcing you down again.
"Calm down, it's still wearing off." He was annoyed, swallowing hard and thick as he avoided looking at you. "How am I even sober? You said it lasted long." You asked the boy, side eyeing him. "I gave you something like an antidote, I made it myself, after spending a week here... I kind of had to improvise." He said matter-of-factly, as if what had happened to you had probably happened to him a few times. You looked at Heeseung, then at the boy. "Y/N, this is Sunoo."
Your eyes bulged, an exhale of relief leaving you as you gave him a once-over. "You're okay." Your voice came out soft. "Called me beautiful, showed concern. Honestly, Heeseung, I approve." Sunoo lifted a brown and looked at his brother.
"Please be quiet." Heeseung cleared his throat and leaned against the wall. "Now that we've found you," Sunoo sat on another chair. You finally looked at the room, and it seemed like a dressing room. Probably for DJ's, artists that performed there. "Why the hell haven't you answered any of Ri-ki's calls? You're clearly infiltrated. You could have given him an update; he was worried sick about you." Sunoo rolled his eyes. "You think I would make the rookie mistake of not calling Ri-ki if I could have? They took my phone, so I couldn't make contact any other way." "And why not retreat? What did you find that had you coming back?" "I found something," Sunoo said, but his eyes fell to his lap, his leg bouncing slightly, a sign of slight anxiety.
"What did you find?" It was you asking.
Sunoo hesitated, but not in the same way Ri-ki did; it was something serious, you could see it in his eyes, the way he lifted them to the wall, something sharp, something dangerous.
"The first days I got here, I had to find a way to stay, so I started dealing in the club. That pissed the lower-ranking dealers off. They got me, kind of beat the shit out of me, if I'm being honest," He sat up, resting one arm against the chair headrest. "I said I'd work for them as an apology, I might have done a way better job than I put myself up for because they didn't want me to leave." Your eyes moved to Heeseung, and his brows were furrowed. "Every single time I tried to go upstairs, they didn't let me and said it was none of my business. But you know what that means..." Sunoo looked at Heeseung. "Means it's the part they don't want people to see." Sunoo nodded. "Well, I went upstairs..." Sunoo's eyes dropped again. "Sunoo, what did you see?" Heeseung asked, this time more stern. The fox-eyed boy looked at you, then at Heeseung again.
"Sunghoon." You watched Heeseung's face fall, his body flinch ever so slightly. "I saw Sunghoon."
Heeseung practically slammed the door of what Ri-ki called his cave as you three walked back in. "Heeseung, we need to prepare for this," Sunoo argued. Ri-ki was rushing to the three of you, confusion twisting on his face as he watched his older brothers argue. "Prepare? Sunoo, we've been waiting fucking years for this, years. He's right there; all we have to do is get him."
"What the hell is going on?" Ri-ki asked. Heeseung and Sunoo kept staring at one another. "They found Sunghoon." Ri-ki's face lifted, his eyes roaming around the room before he sat down, as if taking in the information. You were gathering that this was something deeper than a job, deeper than you could understand, so you sat on the unkept bed, watching. "It's because we've waited all these years that we have to do this right, Hee," Sunoo spoke more softly, exhaling in frustration. "He is not the same Sunghoon we know; there is no guarantee that he'll even recognize us." Heeseung finally sat on the other bed, head down, face resting on his palms as his elbows pressed to his thighs.
"You're right... You're right, I just," He swallowed. "I've been looking for him for so long. We never got this close before." "I know." Sunoo sat beside him, as if comforting his brother. You watched as if something was slowly pressing into your heart. Not because you empathized, but because you were envious. They had bigger things happening, plans, goals. A family forced into a life of death and agony. And they had one another, whilst you had... No one. Your brows furrowed, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stood and walked towards the wide window that gave a view of the city, giving them space to talk, privacy.
"You want some coffee?" Your gaze flicked to the tall boy, Ri-ki, standing a few feet from you, holding two paper cups in his hands. "Yeah, thanks." He walked towards you and handed you the lukewarm coffee, staring into the city. "I don't even remember him that much." He suddenly said, your eyes lifting to him, his gaze flicking to you for merely a few seconds. "Sunghoon."
You nodded in understanding. Heeseung had said Sunghoon had left early in their lives; Ri-ki would have been really young when that happened. "I remember him and Heeseung arguing the day he left. It was pretty bad." He took a sip from his coffee. "He never stopped looking for him. We had clues here and there, but they always grew cold, like he knew we were looking for him and didn't want us to find him." "All that because of a fight?"
"No, Sunghoon wasn't that prideful, from what I know." Ri-ki scoffed. "He got mixed up with a very dark part of this industry, a part that makes even us," He gestured between you both. "Look like the good guys." "There are no good guys in this industry." "I know." Ri-ki's voice was softer. "But I've never been scared much, and it scares me." He inhaled. "Sunghoon scares me." "Ri-ki." Sunoo's voice called from further in the room. The boy only nodded towards you before walking back to his brother. Not too long after, Heeseung was beside you.
He leans against one of the pillars, eyes glued to the view, quiet. You swallowed, not daring to stray your eyes from the city lights either, because you knew what this meant. Soon, Sunoo was already running the bug on your face, and this would all be over. "You guys going after him?" You finally ask, not looking at him. "Yeah, Sunoo and Ri-ki are going to organize everything, make a plan. We should leave tomorrow, after you're... gone." You nod then, more to yourself, aware he isn't looking at you either. "In the club," You start. "We don't need to talk about that." Heeseung cuts you, and you go quiet, eyes falling, then moving to him.
"I meant it." Heeseung didn't move an inch, still, completely still. Your eyes moved back to the view. "I'm scared, I hate admitting that, but I am. Feeling anything other than what I'm used to feeling scares me. I don't know what it means, I don't know how to handle it, where to put it." You swallow. "Wanting you, liking you," And you're trying to make it make sense. "It feels like a weakness, like choosing something that will make me hesitate, and I've never had something that made me hesitate, I never have. So the only thing I know how to do is deny it, avoid it, shove it away."
You can feel his eyes on you now, and you're not brave enough to look at him. "You were right, I am a coward. I've been tortured, and I kill people, but I have never been in love, and being in love feels like a test, like if I fail, I'll be in that chair while they pull out my nails and force water down my throat, or worse."
You feel him then, his fingers on the small of your face, turning you softly towards him, and you want to cry again. Because you have never been in love and you're not even sure this is what it is, but you know this is goodbye, and it's not fair that life allowed you to love when there was no chance you could live it, indulge in it. It was quiet, just his eyes on yours, gaze bouncing back and forth, slightly wide and filled to the brim, as if at any moment, it would spill over.
"Ri-ki, Sunoo," Heeseung says without straying his eyes from yours, his voice enough to make you gasp.
"Leave."
The sound of the door shutting a few seconds later is like a needle being dropped.
It's quick, faster than you can think, faster than you can react when his lips press to yours. Lips mending, twisting, taking. A desperation that crawls up your spine and is somehow mirrored by the way he grunts into your mouth. It's as if something pinches at your core when his tongue slides against yours, his hands pressing against your back, fingertips twiching into your skin, over your shirt, pulling, pressing himself to you, challenging physics itself to get rid of the space. Each huff of air he released forces a whimper out of you, and he swallows it as if he had owned it from the very beginning, and deep down, you know he did.
You don't even notice your back pressing against the pillar, your hands flying to his hair, pulling at the strands, trembling in a mess of visceral need and release. He doesn't let that go by unnoticed, fingertips snaking down your sides in a way that has a shiver wrecking your body, goosebumps in every piece of exposed skin, and when his hands grip at the base of your thighs and hoistes you up, you naturally wrap your legs around his waist, a louder whimper ripping from your throat when you feel the hardness pressed against your middle.
Mind turning hazy, you're drunk on his scent, on the warmth of his breath fanning against your lips as he walks blindly towards the beds, you want to speak as you satiate your hunger for his kiss, but you can't, not even when your lips part as he lays you down, standing over you, eyes darker than you had ever seen. Fuck.
You think, because not a single coherent thought came to mind.
He looked predatory. Head tilting as he watched you pant against the mattress, dark gaze ranking down your body as if he was going through all the things he had fantasized about doing to you, trying to pick. It was pathetic, truly, the way your thighs pressed together at the way he looked at you. You could feel the uncomfortable dampness against the thick leggings, the way you ached tenfold, compared to the day you two had first kissed.
"Heeseung." You whispered his name. You did because you needed him to move, needed him to do something other than look at you, map your body as if he were trying to decide what to ruin first. "Heeseung, please." Desperation, pure, unadulterated desire. That was enough to set him off. He reached for the back of his shirt, and the fabric was on the floor in a matter of seconds, your eyes barely having enough time to take in the ridges of his abs, the slew of scars that painted him like something they'd study in art class as he leaned over you, hand pressed beside your head into the mattress. He nudges your nose with his, voice vibrating out, sending another shiver up your spine.
"Say my name like that again, and I won't be fucking nice." Fuck. His lips grazed yours, making you chase after them like a lost fucking puppy. He smiled, smug, a breathy chuckle leaving him, taunting in a way that had you growing more dizzy. He was taking his god-forsaken time now that he had what he wanted, and as much as you wanted to whine, throw a fit, you allowed it.
"Heeseung." You whispered again, your eyes growing lidded, head tilting up to latch onto his lower lip, pulling at the skin and letting it bounce back as your legs hooked around his hips, pressing him against you. You felt it again, hard and thick right into your core, a gasp leaving your lips as his gaze fell to the spot where you both met, watching the way his pants grew darker and damp where he pressed into you. You could practically hear him swallow, his Adam's apple bouncing at the sight, as if he was trying to contain the watering in his mouth. He looked at you then, rolling his hips again, watching the way your back arched slightly off the mattress, your head thrown back and eyes shut, forcing another louder gasp to leave you at the friction.
"Look at me." He demanded, and you weren't dumb enough not to obey, eyes lifting to his face, brows furrowing when he did it again, and again, with a tightness to his jaw and an intensity to his eyes that was almost too much for you to keep looking. "Yeah, that's the fucking look I wanted to see on your face, surrender, abandon." He spoke so low and deep, you could barely hear him over the sound of your heart beating in your throat, of the pulse of your veins in your ears, arousal building to a dangerous peak.
Each roll of his hips against you had your gaps turning into breathless moans, your hands flying to his back, his nape, the mattress under you, gripping at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself somehow. You couldn't take it anymore; you needed more.
"F—Fuck, Heeseung, please, please!" Your eyes were growing blurry with the stimulation, his length pressing against you in all the right spots, and he tilted his head, waiting, not a word said because you knew what he wanted to hear. "Please, fuck me—"
It gave you whiplash, your shirt being pulled over your head, falling to the floor along with his. Not a single second spared as his eyes dropped to the swell of your breasts, something vile twisting on his face at the sight of them, his lips latching to your nipple, and god— you could barely think as your nails sank into his back. He sucked, soft and harsh, nipping and pulling as one hand sneaked down, gripping at the elastic of your leggings, pushing them down, and you helped him, kicking them off as you tried your best to keep your desperation at bay.
He pulled away, knees pressing into the mattress as he sat up, lips slightly swollen, your nipple aching from the abuse it had endured, and he reached for his belt. It was gone a second later, his fingers slowing as they undid the button of his pants, his eyes dropping to your naked body. You whined at the delay.
"You can't blame me." He tilted his head, the same taunting, smug grin spreading on his lips. He continued to undo his zipper, hand sliding into his boxers, gripping at his length and hissing as he continued to admire you. "God, you're so fucking beautiful. It's insane." You weren't one to blush or feel embarrassed; instead, it sent a wave of arousal down your body, a gush of it leaking from between your thighs, clear in his line of sight. A huff of air left him in pure disbelief that this was real, that this was happening. He pulled himself out then, your eyes unable to ignore the thick, hard length in his palm, mouth going agape at the sight, core clenching around nothing.
When he leaned back down, he was slower, face hovering over yours, eyes gentler, but still dark and predatory in a contained way. Your breath hitched when you felt his tip nudge at your entrance, his jaw clenching in return, and when he pushed in, he didn't hesitate, length spreading you open inch by inch till he was fully inside of you, nudging at the deepest parts of your walls.
Your breath was stuck in your throat, back slightly arched from the bed. Full and stretched to capacity, it made your eyes roll back. The groan that left him was far from graceful, something deep and guttural, feral in a way that had you clenching tight around him, making him hiss and grunt as his hand slid under your body, the other hand pressed to the mattress beside your head and gripping at the sheets.
"God, fuck—, fuck, fuck." He grunted out, paced, strained, his veins slightly bulging in his throat before he pulled out, then rolled his hips back in. It was delirious, your hands wrapping around his shoulder, your legs practically limp, wrapped around his hips, and he held out long enough for you to adjust before he started fucking into you, eye to eye, his forehead resting against yours, his body making yours buck each time his hips met yours.
Quickly, the room was filled with the sound of delirious moans, deep grunts, and slapping skin. It wasn't sweet, or romantic, or loving. It was carnal, raw, layers of vulnerability laid bare for the taking. And he took, over and over as his length rubbed perfectly against your insides, as it had you unable to form words, thoughts, just feel him inside of you.
He lifted you then, sitting back on his ankles, arm around your waist, aiding you as you rode him, gaze boring into yours from below, hips rolling up to meet yours each time, as his free hand snaked up your back and into your nape, fingers tangling into your hair and gripping, forcing your head back to latch his lips onto your neck.
Each nip, kiss, suckle he wrecked you with brought you closer to coming undone. You didn't even try to hold back as you grew tighter around him, feeling his brows furrow against your skin, his lips stilling against your pulse point, huffing out a groan of pleasure. You both chased after it, riding him more eagerly, his hips rolling into yours with a stutter before he pulled from your neck, forcing you both back down, holding his upper body up on one hand as his gaze fell to where you both connected, watching his length fuck in and out of you, slicked with your arousal, your slit sucking him in each time.
Your breath hitched, feeling it right at the edge, unable to hold it back, and his eyes flicked to your face, hungry for it, desperate for it.
"I'm—" You started, unable to continue as your body began to tighten.
"That's it, fuck, cum. Cum for me, let go." It was like watching something he could only ever fantasize about, you, right there, under him, at the edge of coming undone by his hands, his cock, him. And you did just that, body seizing up with a pained gasp before you were practically trashing under him, vision going white, blurred, a harsh, intense wave of intense pleasure wrecking down your body in an unforgiving way, it made you feel like crying. You clenched around him violently, core pulsing against his length, nails digging into his back, you were sure you broke skin.
He allowed you to ride the wave, never stopping as he grunted in pained desperation, holding his own release back as he watched you, and when your eyes opened, and he saw the tears that gathered at your water line, he broke. You could feel his body shudder, his brows furrow deeply, pleasure twisted on his face before he buried it into your neck, stilling deep inside of you. You felt every last twitch of his cock, the fullness growing in your middle, the pressure of it. When he finally came down, you were left still, sweaty, panting against one another.
Time was lost on you; it was probably ten, twenty minutes with his head nestled into your neck, his body resting over yours. You don't know when his breath steadied, when yours did. When the pounding of your heart turned into a lull against his ear, or when your fingertips started caressing up and down his back, delicately. You didn't want to move, and he didn't either. Perhaps staying like that for a little longer was the only way you could make it last. And when you felt him inhale deeply and pull from your neck, your eyes fluttered open, finding him looking at you, head resting on his palm, elbow pressed into the mattress.
You didn't speak, just held his gaze. Something thick brimming in the space around you, a reality you both weren't ready to step back into.
"Hi." He said, soft now compared to how dark his voice had gotten before. You laughed, soft, sincere, a smile so stupidly affectionate on your lips.
"Hi." You replied, resting your head onto the mattress, looking up at him, watching his lips spread into a smile that mirrored yours.
"What are yoy thinking?" It made your heart squeeze in your chest, so mundane, the way he asked you that so often, you'd miss it, you'd miss him. You would. God, you'd miss him.
"Thinking about you." You decided on it instead, making his smile widen, his eyes falling to your bodies pressed together. "Heeseung?" He lifted his gaze to you, tender in a way that made you want to cry. "Is this what love is like?" It was innocent, naive. Something so stark from what you were perceived as, what you were. A deadly creature that had only known the ugly parts, not even sure if the beauty in front of her was worth fawning over.
"I don't know." He swallowed, because at the end of the day, he didn't know either. He never had the time to find out, to experience it for himself. "But does it matter? It is what we decide it is. So, what do you want it to be?"
What you decide. A choice entirely yours, an experience entirely yours. No more lingering on your fear of trusting, of vulnerability. No more sinking into fear and frustration of not knowing. A decision you could make for yourself, on your own. Your first. Your very first.
"Love. I want it to be love."
Hello! I know your busy and have a life going on I wish you all the best in buttt…. When’s souvenir VI coming out? I NEED it mentally and physically I crave souvenir ever single day please update as soon as possible, sending all the love in the world mwah💋
Hi, love! haha, this week took me a little longer to sit down and write, so i had to delay it a little compared to the other chapters, but the next chapter is coming between tomorrow (sunday) and monady! i'm seated this moment reviewing and making sure everything is perfect to post! thank you so much for the kind words, i am so so glad my story has made you excited, and i hope i continue to excite you throughout the story. so much more to come, xoxo.
SOUVENIR - (l.hs.) V
"TAKING MY BREATH A SOUVENIR THAT YOU CAN KEEP" LEE HEESEUNG x ƒ! reader
‒ souvenir. (m) series. ✎ [45k+ words] chapter V. [6k] read chapter I read chapter II. read chapter III read chapter IV
read chapter VI masterlist. ⨯ ㅤㅤㅤrated: ── r, contains depictions of extreme violence, soft gore, mature sexual content, emotional turmoil, torture, brainwashing, death, and existential crisis. reader discretion is advised.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤtheme: ── assassins au!, action, angst, romance, and eventual smut. slow-ish burn. y/n is very stubborn and very distrustful. special appearances of ot7 enha.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤsynopsis: ── what a predicament. reaching for the hand of the one who should be pointing a gun at your head instead. you of all people, no one. a shadow with no past and no future, a puppet to a bigger machine, who followed the rules and orders so thoroughly. how reckless of him, or perhaps, how reckless of you. ㅤ
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤan: hey, chapter five is here to greet you all. this one carries a bit of angst, some heavy, graphic mentions of torture, murder, and a little bit of gore. but it's more of an introspective one, adding more context to the story and into our oc's and heeseung's dynamic. i hope you enjoy this chapter and look forward to the next, it is coming more than soon. likes, reblogs and comments are always so very welcomed as it not only motivates me to continue writing, but to put out the best i can for you all. i genuinely hope you are enjoying this series. As always, let this get to the right people, xoxo, May.
Silence usually made you comfortable. It meant you had space to think, to go over every detail of a mission or of your next steps, and as you looked out the window, you were grateful that he was quiet as he drove the rest of the way.
You weren't going to think about it, about the way you came undone on his fingers so easily, so quickly. But then again, you don't remember the last time someone had given you an orgasm like that, or if ever, honestly. Sleeping with targets was normal. It was part of the job. Performing, faking orgasms. You learned seduction pretty early. How to giggle as if you were a little too drunk, or how to lift your chin elegantly to get sophisticated men's attention. How to flirt, sometimes too tame, sometimes too straightforward, depending on the target's learned preference. But being seduced was not on your cards.
If anything, during those lessons, they taught you very strictly not to fall for anyone's antics, saying how easy it was to get lost in a job and to hesitate if you let yourself be led in. You never have. Sure, there was a target or other that you found attractive, that you thought would be easier to sleep with, not having to fake your body's reactions, yet entirely... Never like this. Never this easy, this surrendered.
Perhaps he knew, your brows furrowing, wondering if he had similar training to yours, seduction. If he was reeling you in, slowly captivating you to put you in the hands of whoever wanted to kill you in the first place. But it didn't make sense, and trying to find a reason or meaning was driving you crazy.
This is what they did. They stripped trust from your wiring. No one could be trusted, is what he said, unless it were them. No one could be trusted, and yet, they are trying to eliminate you. At least that's what you thought. It was hard to unlearn it, unlearn distrust. He had given you too many truths. He would not have been so careless if trusting him or trusting you weren't the only options in the moment.
"When I was 16, my mentor sent me on a job in Fukuoka." You cut through the silence, looking out the window as the sky's navy slowly lightens, the evidence of early dawn. All you could see was greenery, a blur. You knew he was listening, even if he didn't answer. "The target was unusual to me, a normal man, no ties to politics or investments, he owned a stand in a farmers market, sold... fruits, apples, strawberries. A civilian, I've only ever executed them three times in the past." A leather couch, a simple television, and a picture frame hanging on the wall, your chosen souvenir.
"I never asked why before or after that, but I asked him, I asked why this man, this normal, mundane man that had never committed a crime, didn't owe anyone any money. He was just another face. Easily forgotten, what was so... important about him that his life needed to end?" Your brows lifted slightly as you remembered your own questioning back then. "They told me then not to ask questions, that my job was to infiltrate, assess, and eliminate. They reinforced it." You exhaled, looking straight ahead as you slouched slightly in the passenger seat.
"What did you do?" His voice was gentle, low, like talking to a scared animal that could flee at any second.
"I spent weeks pretending to be a homeless teenager. I'd roam the market, ask for food. The first day, he gave me one of the apples, free." You inhaled deeply. "He took pity on me by the end of the second week and offered to let me work at the stand for him while he ran errands. We got close, he was... Kind." You smiled at the memory of the man's warm smile. "He lost his daughter when she was seven, his wife died a few months after, couldn't handle the loss of their daughter. I allowed him to see in me an opportunity to have his daughter back." You finally looked at him, and he only glanced at you before looking ahead, quietly giving you room to go on; you followed his gaze to the road.
"I got close enough that eventually, he invited me to his home, said he'd cook me a warm meal, allow me to shower, I— I didn't even let him empty the grocery bag before I shot him in the back of the head." You pursed your lips, brows furrowing at the memory.
"I needed to know why... So I stayed a while, snooped around, trying to find something, a reason, a slip-up. Something that told me: this man deserved to die, and there was nothing... Until I was about to leave, and I noticed the frame on his wall, just above his television, him, his late wife, and his daughter." You went quiet, swallowing a lump that began to form in your throat. You don't remember the last time you cried so quietly, not like the sobbing in the train, perhaps it was the first time you took a punch to the face, at ten, in training.
"I recognized her. Around year three at the training center, she hanged herself from the ceiling railings with the sheets. Her name was Amora." You wouldn't notice the tears streaming down your face if the wet trail hadn't gotten cool with the car air-con. "She was all bruised, the cuts on her feet were still healing, she had one broken tooth, her fingernails were missing... She endured so much physical pain, but succumbed to one naked to the eye."
"Y/N, what did they do to you there?" He sounded so concerned it nearly gave you whiplash, but you blinked the blurriness away, hands lifting to wipe your eyes.
"Too much, and it's finally catching up to me." You shook your head. "I'm just finally understanding that it's over. I... I don't need to be another Amora for them." You heard him hum; your gaze shifted to him. He was... smiling. He glanced at you, noticing the look on your face.
"I'm just glad I was right." He shrugged.
"About what?"
His smile grew, turning his head to you before he made a turn into a dirty path in the dense greenery.
"About you having empathy."
Your lips stretched faintly, as if knowing you didn't deserve to smile. Because you told him part of the story. And left out the part that haunted your dreams. Purple flowers, Gunshots. A memory, or a warning. It was up to you to decide.
You never watched someone sleep without wondering how you'd execute them. Without wishing, you could get things over with and move on to the next task. No, never have you sat at the other side of a truck cargo bed and watched someone sleep so peacefully, as if the rest of the world you both knew didn't have a target on your back. Yet, there he was, head resting back against the metal container, body shaking slightly along with the truck. Lips in a perfect straight line, lips that were pressed against yours, parted, panting, wanting. You looked away, down at the metal, embarrassed at your own thought process. But you had to admit at this point that you were attracted to Heeseung.
There was an undeniable pull, one strong enough that you allowed him intimacy, allowed him to touch you, without it being an obligation. You wondered then if this was what normal women felt when they were interested in someone, this annoying thing in your chest, what did they call it again? A crush? You wouldn't know if it were one, or just physical attraction, but that often didn't come accompanied by the sheer dread you had felt on the bullet train when you heard him grunt, or the hurt that crept up your throat when he insinuated you'd turn on him and get the job done.
A hard swallow went down your throat, staring at the metal beneath your body, ignoring the strong smell of the flowers that the truck was transporting. You ignored them the moment you two had snuck into the truck, the sun already sending its greetings in the sky, heat mixed with the cold breeze of late Autumn kissing your cheek.
"What are you thinking?" His groggy voice brought you out of your thoughts, looking up at him. He always asked you that, what was on your mind, what you were thinking, and only then you realized that he was used to being able to read people, to give context into situations based on what he knew of the target, but he had almost none when it came to you, he didn't know you enough to be able to read your eyes, so he asked.
"When we get to Ri-ki, I don't know what I'm doing after that." You lied, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"You never planned what you'd do once you retired?" He straightened his posture against the truck walls, waking himself.
"I had this silly plan of reading books and drinking wine till my body gave out. But I never expected it to be this soon, and... I never thought I'd live long enough to make it happen." Honesty didn't taste so bad on your tongue now. It began to feel comfortable talking about yourself, the little secrets you kept. Lonely ones.
"Wine and books sound like an amazing plan to me." And you looked away again, realizing the sound of his voice after waking up was sending a shiver down your spine.
"What about you?" You fidgeted with the fabric of your pants. He hummed, your eyes fluttering softly at the sound.
"I want a house on the beach, a private beach. A piano, maybe build a shed, wake up and cook breakfast with Jungwon, keep an eye out for my other brothers." He wasn't looking at you as he spoke. He was looking at the ceiling, sunlight flashing by, his gaze soft and saddened. In the last few days, you have only focused on what the lack of humanity in Heeseung would mean to your survival, how strong he was, or how good of an agent, just like you, a mutual life of something robotic, someone mechanical. It only now hit you that beneath all that, there was a human, even after all the mundane things he had told you, all the silly little things, only now, watching the lingering, slight sadness in his eyes, did you feel something in your chest twist. What made Heeseung human? You wondered what the human part of a young boy trying to survive had to endure to become something as deadly as he was.
"How was your training?" You let it out, his gaze shifting to you, the sadness replaced with surprise, then a hardness you were familiar with. He looked away again, inhaling deeply. Perhaps it was too personal. You parted your lips to correct yourself, but his voice cut you short.
"Relentless." And something flashed in his eyes, perhaps memory, perhaps dread, but you couldn't put your finger on it. "I needed a lot of correction." He shrugged, head still resting back, a laziness in his body.
"They hurt you a lot?" You looked down at our fingers again, picturing a younger Heeseung being beaten into perfection, which made a sour taste linger in your mouth.
"They tried. Tried to beat into me something that I naturally don't have." "A tendency to murder?" You joke. He chuckles. "No, obedience." He looked at you, your tongue flicking out to wet your lips. You weren't quite sure whether obedience was instilled in you or something you naturally had. "Oh, so murder is naturally embedded in you?" You lifted a brow, keeping the teasing tone. "You're missing the point." He deadpanned. "I didn't know there was one." And you smiled, relenting, he inhaled, eyes falling to your lips for only a split second.
"After a while, they realized I performed better in training when I had free will. Scored better, learned better. I improvised, and I got perfect kills, no tracks, no unfinished business." He shrugged. "I was good at all of it. Tracking, Infiltrating..." He tilted his head, lips stretching into a teasing smile. "Seducing." Your eyes grew a little, he laughed. "I knew you'd react to that, don't worry, sweetheart, you're not on my payroll." "Technically, I am." You snarled, only slightly annoyed at his antics. "Yes, well, I told you I had morals. You're an exception." He looked away, as if embarrassed to admit it, as if he hadn't before.
"So, Mister 'good at everything' made me an exception. I still find that hard to believe." Crossing your arms, you looked at the metal again, your turn to avoid his gaze, because deep down, you knew you were lying to yourself, that you actually did believe he had made you an exception. "I'm a little tired of trying to convince you." It was quiet then; you stared at the rusty metal before you sighed and went back to the main subject.
"So they just... Let you be you? You didn't get corrected anymore?" You found his eyes again. "I was their Ace. As long as I did the job well, there was no reason to. Plus... After I got really good, most of the people there got too scared to try and correct me." He didn't say it with arrogance, although there was a sense of pride in the way he looked at you. It only made sense; you could relate. When something as deadly as Heeseung came around, you figured very few people were brave enough to try to put him in his place.
"The Ace." You mumbled. You had a nickname of your own, although it wasn't as praising as his. You wondered if that was something they did on purpose: your company, your mentor, making sure you never felt too brave to think of yourself as anything more than replaceable. "Doesn't mean anything, you know?" There was a softness to his tone. "The name?"
"All of it." You were quiet as you looked at him. "When all of this is over, we can erase whatever we were, start over. Become whoever we want to be, live however we want... With the occasional scars being questioned here and there, but, you know... Make none of it matter." Scars. You had many of them. You would want nothing more than to forget them all, one by one, erased and turned into something simple: 'I stepped on a nail', 'It was an accident'. But there were ones that went deeper than skin, ones you knew wouldn't be easy to just leave behind, that would linger for as long as you lived, scarring your soul.
You hesitated, lips parting and opening before your voice came out. "When I was in training... We also got corrected." You started, and he was quiet. "But our correction came in the form of another lesson... Teach us endurance, loyalty." Why were you sharing this with him? You didn't know, but it felt right, it felt needed. Something for him to understand, something for him to connect the dots, to not ask "what's on your mind".
"How did they do that?" "Did you know a fingernail takes around three to six months to grow back? Or that some people are born without wisdom teeth? I wish I had been one of those." You rambled. His brows furrowed, as if trying to make sense of what you were saying. You swallowed, deciding to add on. "They'd make it seem as if we got taken, intercepted by... The enemy or a rival company. They'd interrogate us, and if any of us broke, they'd put us in a closed cell for the next three months, then do it again."
When it finally hit him, his face went pale with realization.
"They tortured you." His voice was low and edged with shock, something you didn't dwell on as you avoided his eyes. "Eventually, you learn not to break under pain, never give up information. Endurance. That was the first test. Some girls had to go through it a couple of times. They ripped out our nails, they ripped out our teeth. Waterboarding. Electric shock. Minor forms of mutilation... They'd do it to the soles of the feet so as not to leave visible scars once we got sent into the field." You wrapped your arms around your legs, resting your chin on your knees.
"So, pain, at one point, becomes bearable; you begin to do better because of fear. They saw it as a motivator. Because you learn that if you lack, you'll get corrected. That if you break during the corrections, it will happen again." And fear was a weapon you were familiar with. All the times you were left panting, throat sore, voice gone from screaming, your mentor patting your hair down, whispering "Good girl," whenever you endured a little longer, whenever you got better and didn't need correcting.
"How many times?" You knew what he was asking, and you wish you had a better answer. "For about three years." There was something vague in your eyes, an emptiness that you couldn't see, but you knew was as clear as day. "At one point, it wasn't even to correct me, or train... It was just a means to force loyalty, obedience..."
He was quiet, and for some reason, you couldn't look at him. You didn't know if it was shame, if it was this quiet thing that settled inside you, saying, if you look up, you will see pity in his eyes, and yes, you had pride, but it wasn't pride that forced you to avoid his gaze. It was fear... A different type of fear. Fear of what you'd feel being the object of his pity, his care. Fear that maybe you'd grow weak if you saw it. You'd grow reckless, too comfortable. It would have all been for nothing, all that pain.
"I will never let you go through that again." And it sent a shiver down your spine, how true it felt. It was a promise that had you swallowing hard and only allowed his voice to linger. You could hear it. Rage, just at bay, dancing at the end of each word. As you were gathering the courage to look at him, you both felt the truck come to a slow stop, your eyes lifting to the metal walls before you looked at him, his eyes trained on the doors, waiting for noise, for anything. On full alert.
After a few long minutes of silence, Heeseung reached for the latch, as quietly as possible, pulled it open, and looked outside. You were on full high alert, just as him, hand hovering over where your gun rested before he looked back at you, motioning with two fingers for you to follow.
The brightness of the mid-afternoon met your eyes, forcing you to squint as you adjusted.
You found yourself in an alleyway, the sound of a bustling city dull just at the end of it. Two mid-length buildings stood on each side of you, a few closed doors and trash bags littering the place. Heeseung closed the back of the truck and reached for your wrist, pulling you along with him. As quickly as you could think, you were both slithering into a back door of a building, Heeseung looking up and around, searching for cameras before meeting your eyes. He was close, so close it forced the air out of your lungs. Perhaps it had been the sudden adrenaline of being on the move again, yes, it was definitely that.
"We're clear. Ri-ki's safehouse is a few miles from here, but during the day, we're too exposed." He looked at the watch wrapped around his wrist, exhaling before speaking again. "We have about four hours till nighttime, we should lie low till then, then we move again, okay?" You took in every word, assessing each thing, making mental notes before you nodded and replied with a low "Okay."
"I know where we are. There's a shitty motel a few blocks from here. Family business, they don't ask many questions." He reached for his gun, sliding the sleeve of his jacket over it. "Hide your face, look down, and just let me guide you." He doesn't wait for you to comply before he's pulling you back out, this time, sliding his hand down and locking his fingers with yours, pulling you with him. You follow, looking down, but alert, your eyes lifting to catch any suspicious movement. Oftentimes, you've had to sneak around, on the streets, in buildings, but your life was never truly in danger like it was now, so you made sure you paid careful attention to your surroundings, and it hit you.
The city was alive. Tokyo. Sheer neon signs and blazing noise. People living their mundane lives, rushing, walking, talking. Markets and coffee shops, restaurants and stores. People on their phones, and others chatting casually. It was a normal day for them all, so unaware of the dark side of society, of two people running for survival. And you walked, hand in hand with Heeseung, deciding to process the feeling that danced in your stomach as his skin pressed against yours later. Something so simple, and yet you were lifting your eyes to him, watching that look on his face when he's determined, on a job. You were quiet the whole way before you were pulled into a rusty double door, with glass panels, a poor choice in decorative stickers of peeling hearts.
"One room." That's all he said to the old man at the reception. He pointed at the price, placing the credit card machine in front of Heeseung, not even bothering to glance your way, figuring you were both a young couple looking for some privacy. As Heeseung paid, your eyes moved to the pictures hanging behind the reception, family photos, old ones, newer ones. A sign that said in four languages, "No negotiating."
You look around, searching for cameras, spotting one in the corner, but quickly notice the cable disconnected from the device. Then, as the machine beeps, the man opens a drawer filled with keys and hands Heeseung the one labeled "room 04." Heeseung smiled at the man, thanking him before walking through the door to his left into a hallway, pulling you along, never letting go of your hand as he walked up the stairs into a second hallways, the door was the first, and he pushed the key in, opening and pulling you into it before closing. He exhaled, letting go of your hand. Head resting back against the door as he watched you take it in.
It was what you expected: a shitty motel room, single bed, red sheets, walls decorated in tasteless floral wallpaper, and as you took a few steps in, you sat at the edge of the bed, exhaustion showing its first signs. He didn't fail to notice. "You can get some rest if you want." He finally walked in, taking a few things out of his pocket, checking his gun, and counting the bullets before you allowed yourself to lie back, eyes fluttering a little. "I can stay up a little longer." It was a mumble. "Rest, I need you alert once we leave." You don't argue with him; you know he's right. "I'll wash up, then get some rest."
You leave the bathroom with a towel around you, reaching for your clothes on the bed as Heeseung sits in a chair by the door. He looks at you, avoiding his gaze as he catches the wet strands of hair dripping down your shoulders.
"You need help changing your bandages?" The question stops you in your tracks, and you think about it. You didn't need help. But you were alone in a shitty motel room with Heeseung, and the look in his eyes was anything but innocent, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Time and place, after all.
"No, I can do it, thank you."
And you walked back into the bathroom, exhaling, shakingly. By the time you left, you were fully clothed, bandages changed, and sliding onto one side of the bed, your back to him, he didn't say a word as he reached a hand up and flicked off the light, your body slowly growing heavy. You don't remember when you felt the other side of the bed dip, Heeseung lying beside you, and somehow, knowing he was there allowed you to fall into a deep, deep sleep.
They lined up, the eleven of them. What was left of you all after seven years. Side by side. Bruised knees, cuts, and frail bodies. Standing with a blindfold over their eyes, dressed in that dirty, white dress you all wore. You remember looking at Mina, the oldest of you all, her shoulders shaking, her lip busted. Wondering why she would even cry in the first place, she was weak; they all were. And you watched them, hands placed behind your back. You all knew this day would eventually come. "Masters. This is a day we all anticipated. Our belladonna has reached her goals, her peak, and is now ready. She is branded in sharpness, obedience, and loyalty. A ruthless soldier. A poisonous flower. From section 39, we welcome Y/N." The applause erupted, not real applause, only the sound of it coming from the four large speakers that rested in the high corners of the large hangar where once there were beds, aligned, where you all slept. Now it was empty, the low, poor lighting giving it an eerie mood. You stared at the girls. You had spent the last seven years alongside them, watching them endure the same pain, the same ruthlessness you had. Watched them cry, bleed, and get angry. And you had to force a straight face as sorrow tried to fill you. Rationally, you knew they were weak; you knew they could never survive this job. Eventually, they would be killed, and few would be as merciful as this one. "It's time." You heard your mentor behind you, a gun being placed just in front of your eyes, in his hands, you didn't hesitate to take it. He preened. "Good girl." It sent shivers down your spine, not wasting a second as you lifted the gun in the direction of the line of girls, of roommates, soldiers, sisters. "No names. No parents. No story. Give Mina an ending." And as you pulled the trigger. The gunshot sound rang in the open space, the splatter of blood staining the white wall behind it as one body fell to the ground. "No names. No parents. No story. Give Aline an ending." Another gunshot. "No names..." Gunshot. Carlina. "No parents." Another gunshot. Drew."No story." Blood painting the floors, weeping being heard, splatters, brain matter, a gruesome sight for a thirteen-year-old, one after the other. Bia, Maya, Yuta, Anne, Norma, Enid. And as you reached the last girl, Lori, you pulled the trigger before your mentor said the words—
Your eyes opened softly, the last gunshot ringing in your ears as if it weren't a dream. A memory. You exhaled, trying to steady your heart, before you noticed Heeseung, lying beside you, a few inches from you. His eyes open, looking at you. You blinked a few times, looking away.
"How long did I sleep?" You asked, voice a little hoarse, reaching to rub at your eyes, but not moving an inch. "Just a little over an hour." His voice was soft. "Fuck... Felt like ten minutes." You rubbed at your face, exhaustion heavy on your body. "Bad dream?" "Something like that."
He was quiet. Watching you, and you couldn't help but look at him, holding his gaze. "You... You were mumbling something while you slept." Your body froze, trying to keep a straight face, not replying. "You were saying 'No names. No parents. No story.' over and over." You looked away then, staring at the red sheets under your body. "It was... A thing they said to us." And silence fell upon you both as Heeseung continued to watch you, as if in deep thought. After a few long minutes, he broke the silence.
"Your name is Y/N." He spoke slowly, softly. Almost tender. "You had parents." And you felt his fingers brush your hair back, tentative, not too invasive. "And you have a story that can be rewritten, retold, as many times as you'd like." It was delicate. The way he was handling you, the way he was looking at you, and you couldn't help the breath stuck in your throat as you watched it simmer in his eyes.
Affection.
You cleared your throat, looking away and shaking your head. "Did you have parents, Heeseung?" And he inhaled, pulling his hand away.
"Yes. Yes, I did. They died in a car accident when I was ten." How were Heeseung's parents, you wondered. Were they good parents? Did they love him and tuck him in at night? Did they cheer for him at basketball games or scold him when he got bad grades? You wanted to ask, but you were too much of a coward to. "After that, I went to live with my uncle, who was a shit guy, so I bailed, started living in this youth shelter before I met Sunghoon and the other boys." That was a name you weren't familiar with yet, but you allowed him to go on.
"When I was fourteen, we got this shitty apartment, and all of us went to live there together. Eventually, Sunghoon left, and it was just the six of us."
You nodded, taking in the new information he was giving you. Growing up in shelters, on the streets, working from such a young age, and then eventually being pulled into this line of work. Heeseung trained less than you, and yet he was held to the same regard within the "industry". "Y/N... You have parents. They could be out there, you know? Alive. Always wondering where their daughter went, or grieving a daughter they think they lost, just like Amora's father."
"I— I would rather not hope." You whispered. "Why not? What is so bad about hoping?" His brows furrowed, and you looked up at him.
"Because if I hope and they end up being terrible people, then it would make it seem like they saved me, and I cannot live a life where it feels like I got the better alternative."
"And what if they're not? What if they're as mundane as that man in Fukuoka? What if they have a picture of you framed on their wall? Hm?" And you shut your eyes hard, trying to hold back the sting to them, the thing that was lodging in your throat. Heeseung cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. "And even if they weren't, that does not make that shit place where you grew up your savior. That makes them worse, you understand me?"
You swallowed, your vision blurring as you nodded. It was overwhelming you, the thing in your chest, all these emotions felt all at once, stripping you down into the broken version of yourself. You leaned in impulsively, pressing your lips to his. He stilled, but only for a second, before he reciprocated, kissing you back. It was urgent, desperate, a need so intense in you that you felt your mind hazy, white noise being interrupted by only the soft grunts leaving his throat against your lips.
"Y/N." He whispered, and you pushed him away, standing, inhaling deeply as you gave your back to him. You could hear him sit up on the mattress, but he didn't speak for a few seconds as you calmed down, as you processed and breathed.
"Do you want me?" He asked, quietly. You turned your head, meeting his frame. He had his knees up, arms hanging on them as he looked forward, holding one wrist with his hand.
"I—" You started, but quickly scoffed. "Heeseung, there is no point to this. To the kissing, the fingering, sleeping with one another. This will be over soon, and I'll never see you again. Why should we even be wasting time with this?" You stared at him, hardness in your gaze. "You didn't answer my question." And you wanted to roll your eyes. "Why, why does it matter? Do you want me?" You crossed your arms over your chest.
"Yes. Yes." He started, shaking his head as if amazed by your denseness. "I've wanted you since the day I laid eyes on you. It was a stupid thing to come onto you like that at the restaurant, but I thought I'd never see you again. For some fucked up reason, the universe decided to put you in my path once more, even if for a shitty ass reason."
He shuffled, sitting at the edge of the bed, not breaking eye contact.
"And then I realized the way your body reacted, the way you twitched whenever I said something, the way you looked away in certain moments, and I started wondering if you wanted me too..." His brows twitched, looking down at his lap. "You let me flirt with you again, you let me kiss you, fuck, you let me fucking touch you, actually touch you..." He stood, closing the space between your bodies, one hand resting on your hip. You swallow, not daring to step away. "And now, you're kissing me again as if... As if you're desperate for it," Your eyes flutter at his breath hitting your lips. "as if it tingles your skin, as if something was squeezing your insides," You felt a need to melt right there and then as he spoke, but once again, your withering resolve forced the rational part of you to settle. "and I'm here again wondering... wondering if you want me too—"
"I don't." It felt like something nasty coming up your throat. A lie so vile, it could make you sick, right there. "I don't want you, Heeseung." Sour, acid. It lingered on your tongue. "I'm attracted to you as if you were any other man; there is nothing special about this, nothing real, it's only biological."
He froze. Stilling right there as he looked into your eyes. Tried to read it like he always did. To targets, to people. And he couldn't read enough to know you were lying, yet he winced, dropping his hand from your hips, swallowing thickly as his gaze dropped.
"For someone so brave, you're a fucking coward." The words split you open, and he stepped back. "I'll leave you alone from now on till we reach Ri-ki, focus only on the objective and nothing else, you have my word." He turned his back to you, reaching for his gun and coat. You stood there, unable to move, unable to speak, as he reached for the doorknob.
"I'm going to get us some food. Stay alert." His voice was stone cold. No emotion, no teasing, no softness. "Heeseu—" And he was gone.
You dropped, crouching on the spot as you covered your mouth with a hand, eyes slightly bulging, heart racing, twisting, shattering. What was this? What was this pain? You were so unfamiliar with it that it felt suffocating, worse than any torture you had endured. Slowly standing, you shook, trying to steady your breathing, the bluriness clouding your vision before you inhaled deeply. You lied. But not all of it was a lie.
What was the point? In a few hours, you both would go your separate ways, become ghosts, as he had said, so why grow attached, why grow... fond of one another if there wasn't any chance you could be together. For skin? For desire? For what?You had lied, but one truth remained, and that was that even if you did want Heeseung, there was no point in making him believe it was true, no matter how much you wished you could. Because a boy with a name, parents, and a story could never be with a girl with...
No name. No parents. No story. Just you.
ꪆ୧ ⠀ ── ⠀ roxe’s fav jungkook fics (mndi)
hello fam! since i’ve been getting asks ab my fav fics (it was lwk js one ask, but we move), i thought i might as well make a whole post about them. it’s mainly going to be jk fics bc most of my all-time favs are jk centered, so this list will definitely lean that way (i might sneak in a few other members tho lol). these are js the ones that came to mind right now (lwk hv so many gems that i probably forgot, which is why you’ll most likely see me updating this list pretty often) also, this isn’t ranked in any way, it’s literally js me dumping fics i love lols. anw, here you go ♡
thank you so much for the mention and for the commentary, it warms my heart, it truly does. so happy you have enjoyed raven unit. <3
SOUVENIR - (l.hs.) IV
"TAKING MY BREATH A SOUVENIR THAT YOU CAN KEEP" LEE HEESEUNG x ƒ! reader
‒ souvenir. (m) series. ✎ [45k+ words] chapter IV. [6.7k+] read chapter I read chapter II. read chapter III masterlist. ⨯ ㅤㅤㅤrated: ── r, contains depictions of extreme violence, soft gore, mature sexual content, emotional turmoil, torture, brainwashing, death, and existential crisis. reader discretion is advised.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤtheme: ── assassins au!, action, angst, romance, and eventual smut. slow-ish burn. y/n is very stubborn and very distrustful. special appearances of ot7 enha.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤsynopsis: ── what a predicament. reaching for the hand of the one who should be pointing a gun at your head instead. you of all people, no one. a shadow with no past and no future, a puppet to a bigger machine, who followed the rules and orders so thoroughly. how reckless of him, or perhaps, how reckless of you. ㅤ
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤan: welcome to chapter four. a few content warnings for this chapter── explicit sexual content, mentions of abuse, and some morally gray things mentioned. if you've been following so far, i'd like to say, first, thank you, and second, finally, our OC is getting some, haha. i hope you enjoy this chapter and are excited for what is to come. i have so much planned for this story; it has been a work in progress for about a year now, so any comment, reblog, or like is so welcome. i hope you have fun with this one, see you soon for chapter five. and as always, let this get to the right people, xoxo.
The couch was comfortable, comfortable in the way it felt... lived in. A little worn out and with a few dents here and there, it told a story as it engulfed you in warmth.
Jungwon put in a lot of effort to make you feel comfortable, offering you tea, which you declined politely. Then, when you sat to try and understand the game he wanted you to play with him, he wrapped a blanket over you, a quiet "it gets cold at night around here," leaving his lips to justify his kindness. It was so foreign, but you invited it in, nevertheless. Now, you had your arms around your tucked-in knees, the blanket still comfortably placed around you as you watched whatever video he left playing on the television, not understanding a thing, just like the game you had tried to play with him earlier as Heeseung went to make some phone calls.
enemies to lovers! au | jjk
huge thanks to the authors, every story was beautiful :3
divider creds
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thank you so much for the mention, ♥️
Souvenir llll when???
Putting it out between today/tomorrow! <3
Hey mayy just wanted to know if you speak portuguese, I saw that you were born in Brazil but raised in USA so just curious
And I loooooove your stories and how you write
Much lovee
I do speak portuguese! i am currently living in brazil (have been for around twenty years. hahaha
thank you so so much, love.
SOUVENIR - (l.hs.) III
"TAKING MY BREATH A SOUVENIR THAT YOU CAN KEEP" LEE HEESEUNG x ƒ! reader
‒ souvenir. (m) series. ✎ [45k+ words] chapter III. [5.4k] read chapter I read chapter II. masterlist. ⨯ ㅤㅤㅤrated: ── r, contains depictions of extreme violence, soft gore, mature sexual content, emotional turmoil, torture, brainwashing, death, and existential crisis. reader discretion is advised.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤtheme: ── assassins au!, action, angst, romance, and eventual smut. slow-ish burn. y/n is very stubborn and very distrustful. special appearances of ot7 enha.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤsynopsis: ── what a predicament. reaching for the hand of the one who should be pointing a gun at your head instead. you of all people, no one. a shadow with no past and no future, a puppet to a bigger machine, who followed the rules and orders so thoroughly. how reckless of him, or perhaps, how reckless of you. ㅤ
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤan: welcome to chapter three. as you can tell, this series has a lot of dialogue and is somewhat of a slow burn, trust, interesting things are coming. i want to contextualize that this buildup is necessary for what is to come, so, hang on there, reader, and enjoy another chapter of "souvenir". if you see any mistakes, please let me know, and as always, reblogs and likes are so so appreciated so that i can get this story to the right people. a few trigger warnings for this chapter: description of graphic violence and death. see you next week, xoxo.
The last time you were in Fukuoka, you remember the purple flowers hanging above your head, the spring breeze kissed your cheeks as if something kind could ever touch you, want you, or embrace you. You kept a mental picture then of the place, erasing the reason you were there, what you had done, and why. Yet the collection of gunshot sounds is stacked in your brain. You never forgot a face before they met their end. Some pleaded, and some accepted their fate. Whatever it was they left behind didn't concern you; you were taught. But sometimes, you pay attention to the details before pulling the trigger. Wedding rings, baby pictures, a warm meal left in the microwave. Sometimes you stayed a few minutes after their bodies hit the floor, calculating how much time you had as you took it in. A person, a life. A story interrupted because someone desired it to be, and you were willing to do it for them. Why? You rarely questioned why. You read a file, something so... Empty, and that alone told you what you needed to know.
When’s souvenir lll coming out 😓 im going crazy waiting for the rest 😭
IT'S COMING!!!! Posting it later today!
SOUVENIR - (l.hs.) II
"TAKING MY BREATH A SOUVENIR THAT YOU CAN KEEP" LEE HEESEUNG x ƒ! reader
‒ souvenir. (m) series. ✎ [45k+ words] chapter II. [5.5k+] read chapter I here. chapter III here. masterlist. ⨯ ㅤㅤㅤrated: ── r, contains depictions of extreme violence, soft gore, mature sexual content, emotional turmoil, torture, brainwashing, death, and existential crisis. reader discretion is advised.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤtheme: ── assassins au!, action, angst, romance, and eventual smut. slow-ish burn. y/n is very stubborn and very distrustful. special appearances of ot7 enha.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤsynopsis: ── what a predicament. reaching for the hand of the one who should be pointing a gun at your head instead. you of all people, no one. a shadow with no past and no future, a puppet to a bigger machine, who followed the rules and orders so thoroughly. how reckless of him, or perhaps, how reckless of you. ㅤ
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤan: chapter two is already here, i have a few chapters written already, but i decided to already post this one to allow more context into the story. this is somewhat revised, if there are any errors, please feel free to tell me, again, reblogs and likes are appreciated so that this gets to the right audience, lastly, i hope you enjoy, next week i'll post the next chapter. xoxo.
Your eyes were glued to the door most of the night, seated at the edge of the bed with your gun in your lap. You pondered over several situations and scenarios. You could kill him right here and get the job done, yet chances were, you'd still be a target, if not him, someone else would come. And unlike him, you had no friends or contacts; you were a loner, only doing what you were told your entire life. Your supplies all came from them, and your gear all came from them. The only thing you had of your own was the offshore, secret bank account you transferred all the money you got into, and the small library you had purchased a few years back, with a small dusty room in the attic. It was in the countryside of Italy where, if you strayed a few blocks too many from downtown, you'd encounter farmers and cows. You planned on moving there once you decided to retire, but it seemed they had different plans for your future.
SOUVENIR - (l.hs.)
"TAKING MY BREATH A SOUVENIR THAT YOU CAN KEEP" LEE HEESEUNG x ƒ! reader
‒ souvenir. (m) series. ✎ [45k+ words] chapter I. [6k+] read chapter II here. read chapter III here masterlist. ⨯ ㅤㅤㅤrated: ── r, contains depictions of extreme violence, soft gore, mature sexual content, emotional turmoil, torture, brainwashing, death, and existential crisis. reader discretion is advised.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤtheme: ── assassins au!, action, angst, romance, and eventual smut. slow-ish burn. y/n is very stubborn and very distrustful. special appearances of ot7 enha.
⨯ ㅤㅤㅤsynopsis: ── what a predicament. reaching for the hand of the one who should be pointing a gun at your head instead. you of all people, no one. a shadow with no past and no future, a puppet to a bigger machine, who followed the rules and orders so thoroughly. how reckless of him, or perhaps, how reckless of you. ㅤ ⨯ ㅤㅤㅤan: i've posted and deleted this fic once, but since i've written a lot more, i decided to give it another try, it's been a while since i've posted a fic, this is my first heeseung one (yay), i am hoping you guys enjoy and have as much fun reading as i've had writing so far. reblogs and likes are so appreciated and will help get this to the right people. now, i hope you all enjoy the first chapter of souvenir.
August 8th, 10:55 pm.
Tap... Tap, tap—heels against polished black marbled floors. The pillars were painted in Gold, not the faux type, and the drapes were velvet red. The lounge of this fancy restaurant was on the 25th floor of the Morisson Hotel, a three-star Michelin in a five-star Hotel. The view of a bustling, living city twinkled in your peripheral through the dark, tainted glass. New York at night had its charm, you could almost hear the sound of chattering crowds filling the streets, the smell of food trucks and burned rubber, it made you briefly nostalgic as your thoughts were interrupted.