heevan

♡ your daily dose of Heeseung delusion

[heevangell]

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★heevangell

[heevangell]

hey! i really love the final chapter of the day i started living. thank you for making such a masterpiece. tho, i wonder what will happen if the reader finishes college. 👀

Hii! Thank u for reading & loving it♡ and about that, they will probably be married I think 😊

[heevangell]

hey can I know how to access i started living the day you noticed me without scrolling all the way down 🥲, I cant see the link 😭

I will make a m.list for it ;)♡

[heevangell]

I Started Living The Day You Noticed Me (Final)

Pairing : Heeseung x Reader* ⁠༶ﾟGenre: teacher x student

‎Three months had passed since you landed in Toronto.

‎At first, the city had felt unreal.

‎The towering glass buildings, the endless streams of people rushing through crowded streets, the sharp autumn wind that bit at your cheeks every morning —

‎Your apartment with Minju was small. The kitchen barely fit two people comfortably, the heater groaned every night like it was fighting for its life, and one of the cabinet doors refused to close properly no matter how many times you slammed it shut.

‎University life consumed most of your days. Classes were harder than you expected, especially with the workload piling up week after week, but you loved it anyway. You loved studying until midnight at cafés filled with students typing frantically on laptops. While your life in Toronto bloomed brighter every day, another part of your life remained thousands of miles away.

‎Heeseung.

‎At night, when the apartment grew quiet and the city lights flickered beyond your bedroom window, missing him became unbearable.

‎Tonight was one of those nights.

‎Rain tapped softly against the windows while you sat curled up beside Minju on the couch, both of you wrapped in blankets with mugs of hot chocolate warming your hands. Some drama played on the television, but neither of you were paying much attention anymore.

‎Sunghoon had left about twenty minutes ago after returning the notes he borrowed from you earlier that week.

‎Lately, he had become a constant presence in your life.

‎It happened naturally.

‎You shared the same major, ended up in several classes together, and discovered very quickly that you both preferred quiet spaces over loud parties. He liked tiny cafés hidden in side streets and old bookstores that smelled like dust and paper. He was calm in a way that soothed you. Never overbearing. Never invasive.

‎He never asked questions you didn’t want to answer.

‎And maybe that was why being around him felt easy.

‎“You know,” Minju suddenly said, turning toward you with dramatic suspicion in her eyes, “I still cannot believe you’re dating Mr. Lee.”

‎You groaned immediately. “Minju.”

‎“No, seriously.” She pointed at you accusingly. “OUR Mr. Lee. The hot teacher everyone had a crush on. And you kept it a secret from me.”

‎Your face warmed instantly despite hearing this speech at least twenty times already.

‎Minju found out last week completely by accident.

‎You had fallen asleep on the couch while studying, your phone forgotten beside you. When a late-night call lit up the screen with heeseung ♡, she saw it.

‎The screaming that followed nearly killed you.

‎“Since WHEN?!” she had shrieked while violently shaking your shoulders. “YOU WERE GATEKEEPING THIS MAN FROM ME?”

‎You tried explaining that it wasn’t exactly something easy to announce casually.

‎Hey, by the way, remember our English teacher that everyone is obsessed with? Yeah, I’m secretly dating him.

‎Minju had spent the next three hours demanding every detail possible.

‎Now she brought him up constantly.

‎“So?” she asked now, nudging your knee with hers. “Does he still call every day?”

‎The smile on your face softened slightly.

‎“Not every day anymore,” you admitted quietly. “We both got busy.”

‎Minju’s expression shifted immediately.

‎Because despite how hard you tried hiding it, she noticed things.

‎She noticed how often you stared at your phone now.

‎How your mood dimmed when hours passed without messages.

‎How your smile looked smaller whenever his calls ended too quickly.

‎Long distance was harder than you expected.

‎In the beginning, it almost felt romantic.

‎Heeseung called every single night no matter how exhausted he was. Sometimes he stayed awake until four in the morning his time just to hear your voice while you walked back from class. He listened to you ramble about professors, assignments, new foods you tried, random strangers you encountered on the subway.

‎And he told you everything too.

‎How empty the apartment felt without you.

‎How he kept instinctively cooking enough food for two before remembering you weren’t there anymore.

‎You missed him so badly it physically hurt sometimes.

‎But slowly, reality settled in.

‎Work piled up for him. Midterms consumed you. Time zones became cruel.

‎Calls turned shorter.

‎Then less frequent.

‎Once or twice a week became normal.

‎You understood. Truly, you did.

‎But understanding something didn’t stop it from hurting.

‎Minju reached over quietly and squeezed your hand.

‎“Don't overthink it,” she said softly.

‎You nodded. but still...

‎What if distance changes people?

‎What if he realizes life is easier without you there?

‎What if you’re the only one still counting days?

‎Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone vibrating on the coffee table.

‎Minju gasped dramatically. “Speak of the devil.”

‎You rolled your eyes but answered immediately.

‎His face appeared on screen, slightly grainy from weak connection, yet still handsome.

‎He looked tired.

‎Dark hoodie. Messy hair. Soft eyes.

‎God, you missed him.

‎“Hi,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

‎His expression melted almost immediately.

‎“There’s my girl.”

‎Minju gagged loudly beside you.

‎You shoved her away while Heeseung laughed softly through the screen.

‎The sound alone made your chest ache.

‎The call started like usual.

‎You told him about your disastrous quiz earlier that morning. He listened with quiet amusement while occasionally teasing you for overthinking everything. He talked about work and showed you the pathetic excuse of dinner he made earlier.

‎At some point, Minju suddenly lunged into frame.

‎“Heeseung~!” she sang dramatically.

‎He blinked before laughing. “Hello to you too.”

‎“I approve of this relationship,” she informed him seriously.

‎Heeseung placed a hand over his chest. “Thank you.”

‎Minju winked at you before finally disappearing toward the kitchen.

‎Silence settled afterward.

‎Comfortable.

‎Warm.

‎The kind that only existed between people deeply familiar with each other.

‎Heeseung studied your face quietly through the screen.

‎“You look tired,” he murmured.

‎“So do you.”

‎“Work.”

‎“classes.”

‎He smiled faintly. “Fair enough.”

‎For a moment neither of you spoke.

‎Then his gaze shifted slightly.

‎“I saw your story earlier.”

‎You blinked. “Hm?”

‎“You and Sunghoon.”

‎Ah.

‎Your stomach tightened slightly.

‎Earlier that afternoon, Minju uploaded a picture of the three of you studying together at a café. You hadn’t thought much about it.

‎“He’s just a friend,” you said gently. “We study together all the time.”

‎“I know.”

‎But something in his expression told you he still hated it.

‎“He seems nice,” he added casually.

‎Too casually.

‎You knew him well enough to hear the jealousy beneath it.

‎A small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.

‎“You’re jealous.”

‎“I’m not jealous.”

‎“You absolutely are.”

‎He sighed dramatically. “Okay, maybe a little.”

‎The honesty made your chest warm.

‎“Heeseung,” you said softly, “you don’t have to worry about him.”

‎His eyes lifted back to yours.

‎“He’s nothing compared to you.”

‎“I know,” he admitted quietly. “I just hate being so far away from you.”

‎The vulnerability in his voice nearly broke you.

‎“I miss you,” he whispered.

‎You swallowed hard.

‎“I miss you too.”

‎And you did.

‎In ways words couldn’t fully explain.

‎You missed waking up tangled in his sheets.

‎After the call ended that night, you stayed awake much longer than necessary staring at the ceiling while rain continued falling outside.

‎Somewhere across the world, Heeseung was probably doing the same.

‎—

‎The next few days passed in a blur of assignments, lectures, and exhaustion.

‎Heeseung became quieter.

‎Not cold. Not distant intentionally.

‎Just… quieter.

‎His replies came slower. Calls stopped entirely for three days.

‎You told yourself not to overthink it.

‎He was busy.

‎You were busy too.

‎Still, anxiety settled heavily in your chest anyway.

‎By Friday night, Minju finally forced you out of the apartment after listening to you sigh dramatically for nearly two hours straight.

‎“You need air,” she declared.

‎So now you found yourself walking beside Sunghoon through dimly lit streets after a late study session downtown.

‎Cold wind swept through the city, carrying the scent of rain and distant traffic.

‎Sunghoon adjusted the strap of his bag while glancing toward you.

‎“You’ve been distracted lately.”

‎You sighed. “Am I that obvious?”

‎“A little.”

‎You laughed weakly.

‎“Long distance relationship sucks,” you admitted quietly.

‎Sunghoon nodded slowly like he understood more than he said aloud.

‎“I think anyone would struggle with that.”

‎Before you could answer, your apartment building came into view.

‎Finally.

‎You were exhausted.

‎The lights inside your apartment glowed warmly through the windows upstairs.

‎Minju must be home already.

‎You and Sunghoon stepped into the elevator together, silence settling comfortably between you during the ride upward.

‎When you reached your floor, he followed you down the hallway carrying one of your heavy bags despite your protests.

‎“You know,” you muttered while digging for your keys, “you really don’t have to keep walking me home every time.”

‎“It’s late.”

‎“I’m capable of surviving alone for five minutes.”

‎“Maybe,” he replied dryly. “But I’d rather make sure.”

‎You laughed softly.

‎Then finally unlocked the door.

‎The apartment was dark except for warm light spilling from the kitchen.

‎You frowned slightly.

‎“Minju?” you called out.

‎No answer.

‎Weird.

‎You stepped inside slowly while Sunghoon followed behind you.

‎And then you saw him.

‎Heeseung stood in the middle of the living room hair slightly messy from travel, eyes fixed entirely on you.

‎Everything inside you stopped.

‎For one disorienting second, you genuinely thought you were imagining him.

‎“Heeseung?”

‎His expression softened instantly at the sound of your voice.

‎“Surprise.”

‎The bags slipped from your hands onto the floor.

‎Then suddenly you were moving.

‎You crossed the room so quickly you nearly crashed into him, throwing your arms around his neck while a shocked laugh escaped you.

‎“Oh my God—”

‎He caught you immediately, holding you so tightly it almost hurt.

‎“You’re here,” you breathed.

‎“I’m here.”

‎Your heart hammered violently against your ribs.

‎“You didn’t tell me you were coming!”

‎“I wanted to surprise you and minju was here but left saying she had somewhere to be.”

‎You pulled back just enough to look at him properly.

‎God.

‎He looked exhausted.

‎Emotion surged so intensely through you it nearly overwhelmed you.

‎You missed him.

‎You missed him so much.

‎Behind you, Sunghoon cleared his throat awkwardly.

‎Right.

‎You almost forgot he was there.

‎“I should probably head out,” he said quietly.

‎The atmosphere shifted instantly.

‎Subtly.

‎But enough.

‎You felt Heeseung’s arms tighten around your waist slightly.

‎“I’ll walk you out,” you started automatically.

‎But before you could move, Heeseung’s hand slid gently around your wrist.

‎“He can see himself out,” he said lightly.

‎Too lightly.

‎Your eyes flickered toward him immediately.

‎Sunghoon seemed to understand the tension at once because he gave a small nod.

‎“It’s okay,” he said calmly. “Goodnight.”

‎“Goodnight,” you replied softly.

‎The door closed behind him.

‎Silence followed.

‎Heavy.

‎The warmth from moments earlier disappeared almost instantly.

‎You turned back toward Heeseung slowly.

‎His jaw was tight.

‎“What was that?” you asked quietly.

‎He laughed once under his breath, though there was no humor in it.

‎“What?”

‎“The attitude.”

‎“I didn’t have an attitude.”

‎“You did.”

‎He turned away briefly, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration.

‎“He walked you home.”

‎“Yes?”

‎“At night.”

‎You stared at him incredulously.

‎“Heeseung—”

‎“If I wasn’t here tonight… would you have let him stay the night too?”

‎The question hit harder than expected.

‎You opened your mouth immediately.

‎henThen closed it again.

‎Because suddenly you realized nothing you said would actually matter right now.

‎Not when jealousy already clouded his thoughts.

‎You looked down instead, blinking rapidly against the sting suddenly burning behind your eyes.

‎“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

‎The second the words left your mouth, regret crashed across his face.

‎“Baby—”

‎He stepped toward you instantly.

‎“No, no,” he muttered, voice softer now. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

‎You shook your head quickly even though tears were already gathering.

‎“I didn’t mean it like that.”

‎“I know.”

‎He cupped your face gently, forcing you to look at him.

‎“I’m being a dick,” he admitted quietly. “I know I am.”

‎Your eyes burned.

‎“I just missed you.”

‎The honesty in your voice shattered whatever defensive wall remained inside him.

‎His expression crumpled immediately.

‎“I missed you too,” he whispered painfully.

‎And suddenly he was pulling you against him again, arms wrapped around your body so tightly like he genuinely feared letting go.

‎You melted into him instantly.

‎The familiar warmth.

‎The familiar scent.

‎“I’m sorry,” he murmured against your hair. “Please don’t cry.”

‎That only made tears spill faster.

‎A weak laugh escaped you through them.

‎“You’re mean.”

‎“I know.”

‎His thumbs wiped gently beneath your eyes while guilt consumed his expression.

‎“I swear I didn’t fly across the world to fight with you.”

‎You laughed again despite yourself.

‎Relief softened his face instantly at the sound.

‎“There’s my girl.”

‎Before you could respond, his mouth crashed softly against yours.

‎The kiss started gentle.

‎Careful.

‎Almost apologetic.

‎But within seconds, it deepened into something desperate.

‎You clutched his hoodie tightly while his hands slid against your waist like he needed physical proof you were really here.

‎When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing harder.

‎“You have no idea how hard it was not seeing you,” he whispered against your lips.

‎Your heart nearly gave out.

‎He rested his forehead against yours for a moment before suddenly grimacing.

‎“Wait.”

‎“What?”

‎“I cooked for you.”

‎You blinked.

‎“You what?”

‎His ears flushed slightly pink.

‎“I tried.”

‎Curious, you followed him toward the kitchen.

‎The small table was covered with food.

‎Your favorite dishes.

‎“Heeseung…”

‎He looked weirdly nervous now.

‎“I had Minju help me find ingredients,” he admitted. “I think I messed up the sauce though.”

‎“You made all this for me?”

‎You stepped closer slowly before taking a bite from one of the dishes.

‎The second you hummed approvingly, his shoulders visibly relaxed.

‎“It’s good?” he asked immediately.

‎“It’s really good.”

‎Relief flashed across his face so dramatically you almost laughed.

‎You took another bite before narrowing your eyes playfully.

‎“Are you planning to quit teaching and become a chef?”

‎He snorted softly.

‎“I think the world deserves better food than this.”

‎You leaned against the counter while he stood close between your knees, arms loosely around your waist.

‎“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” you whispered.

‎“I couldn’t wait anymore.”

‎Something vulnerable flickered briefly across his face.

‎“The apartment felt wrong without you.”

‎You reached up gently, brushing hair away from his forehead.

‎“You should’ve told me.”

‎“And ruin the surprise?”

‎You smiled softly.

‎“That explains why Minju kept texting me to hurry home.”

‎“She threatened my life if I ruined the surprise myself.”

‎“That sounds like her.”

‎He laughed quietly before his expression shifted again.

‎Softer now.

‎Hungrier.

‎His fingers slid beneath the hem of your sweater slowly.

‎“You know,” he murmured against your neck, “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop.”

‎Heat rushed immediately to your face.

‎“Heeseung—”

‎“I’m serious.”

‎His lips brushed your throat lightly, sending shivers down your spine.

‎“You have no idea how hard long distance has been for me.”

‎Your hands instinctively slid into his hair.

‎He sighed softly against your skin.

‎The sound alone nearly melted you.

‎“I missed touching you,” he admitted quietly.

‎Your breathing turned uneven as his mouth traveled slowly along your neck.

‎The warmth of his hands beneath your shirt made your pulse race harder.

‎“Heeseung…”

‎“Hm?”

‎“We should probably eat before the food gets cold.”

‎“I can reheat it.”

‎You laughed breathlessly.

‎His grin appeared briefly against your skin before he kissed just below your jaw again, slower this time, more deliberate.

‎The tension building between you after months apart felt almost unbearable now.

‎His hands tightened around your waist before effortlessly lifting you onto the kitchen counter.

‎A startled laugh escaped you.

‎He stepped between your knees immediately.

‎Dangerously close.

‎“You’re pretty,” he murmured softly, staring at you like he hadn’t seen you in years instead of months.

‎Your stomach flipped violently.

‎Then he kissed you again.

‎Deeper.

‎Like he wanted to savor every second.

‎Your fingers curled tightly into his hoodie while his hands wandered carefully beneath your shirt, warm against your skin.

‎His lips moved from yours down toward your jaw, then lower again until your breathing turned shaky.

‎“Heeseung—”

‎The sound of keys rattling at the front door froze both of you instantly.

‎Silence.

‎Then—

‎“I’m home~!” Minju called cheerfully from the entrance. “Did you miss m—”

‎She stopped mid-sentence.

‎You and Heeseung turned simultaneously toward the doorway.

‎Minju stood completely frozen.

‎Her eyes widened slowly as she took in the scene before her.

‎You sitting flushed on the kitchen counter.

‎Heeseung standing between your legs.

‎His hands still very obviously under your shirt.

‎For three full seconds, nobody moved.

‎Then Minju inhaled sharply.

‎“Oh,” she whispered.

‎Another beat of silence.

‎Then louder—

‎“Oh my GOD.”

‎You immediately shoved Heeseung backward in horror.

‎“MINJU—”

‎She pointed at both of you violently.

‎“I LEAVE FOR ONE HOUR.”

‎Heeseung looked seconds away from dying of embarrassment.

‎Meanwhile Minju looked absolutely delighted.

‎“I cannot believe I walked into this,” she shrieked while dropping her bag dramatically onto the floor. “This is the best day of my life.”

‎“Minju,” he greeted, voice calm but slightly hoarse. “Nice to see you again.”

‎Minju pointed dramatically between the two of you. “Mr. Lee… Sir… I respected you as my teacher for an entire year. And now I walk in on you about to defile my best friend on the kitchen counter? The audacity!”

‎You buried your burning face in Heeseung’s shoulder, mortified. “Minju, please—”

‎“No, no, let me enjoy this moment,” she grinned, clearly having the time of her life. “I always knew there was something going on between you two. The way you looked at each other in class?”

‎Heeseung chuckled, the sound low and warm against your hair. “Glad we had your approval.”

‎Minju waved her hand. “Oh, you have it. Fully. But my boyfriend is waiting downstairs and I only came back to grab my charger.” She winked at you. “You two have the apartment to yourselves tonight. Please… continue whatever you were doing. Just maybe disinfect the counter afterward. For my mental health.”

‎She grabbed her charger from the living room, still giggling to herself.

‎"Goodnight!”

‎The door clicked shut behind her.

‎You let out a long, embarrassed groan, hiding your face completely in Heeseung’s neck. “I’m never going to live this down.”

‎Heeseung laughed softly, arms tightening around you. “She’s funny. I like her.” He tilted your chin up, eyes dark and full of warmth.

‎“Where were we?”

‎‎You laughed despite yourself, pressing your forehead against his.

‎“I think we were about to traumatize Minju for life.”

‎He groaned dramatically.

‎“Right. Tragic.”

‎“Very tragic.”

‎For a moment, neither of you moved.

‎You simply looked at each other.

‎No phone screen between you.

‎No bad connection.

‎Just him.

‎Just you.

‎His thumb brushed softly across your cheek.

‎“You've changed.”

‎Your heart dropped slightly.

‎“Oh.”

‎Immediately, his expression panicked.

‎“No, not like that.”

‎You laughed.

‎He winced. “What I mean is... you seem happier.”

‎The words caught you off guard.

‎Because he was right.

‎Toronto had changed you.

‎You were more confident now.

‎More independent.

‎You'd found a version of yourself you never knew existed.

‎And somehow...

‎He still looked at you exactly the same.

‎“You changed too,” you said quietly.

‎“Yeah?”

‎“You stopped sleeping.”

‎He laughed. “That's fair.”

‎“Your eye bags are terrible.”

‎“Wow.”

‎“They are.”

‎“You really know how to welcome a guy after an eight-hour flight.”

‎You grinned.

‎He stared at you for a second before shaking his head.

‎The smile slowly faded from your face.

‎Because beneath the jokes and teasing and relief...

‎There was still something neither of you had talked about.

‎His expression softened.

‎“Hey.”

‎You looked up.

‎“We're okay.”

‎Your throat tightened.

‎“Are we?”

‎His eyes never left yours.

‎“Yes.”

‎Simple.

‎Certain.

‎“Long distance sucks,” he admitted.

‎“I know.”

‎“I hate it.”

‎“I know.”

‎“I hate not knowing what your day looked like.”

‎You smiled weakly.

‎“And I really hate Sunghoon.”

‎A surprised laugh escaped you.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎You shoved his shoulder.

‎He laughed before pulling you back against him.

‎His voice became quieter.

‎More serious.

‎“But none of that changes how I feel about you.”

‎“I love you.”

‎Your breath caught.

‎“I love you too.”

‎His smile appeared instantly.

‎The kind that always made your heart skip.

‎—

‎The next morning, sunlight spilled through the apartment windows.

‎The visit to his parents' house wasn't planned.

‎At least not for you.

‎You were halfway through your morning coffee when Heeseung casually announced it from across the kitchen.

‎“We're going somewhere today.”

‎You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

‎“Where?”

‎A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

‎“I'll tell you on the way.”

‎You should have known then.

‎Three hours later, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of a rental car.

‎The farther you drove, the quieter Heeseung became.

‎At first, you thought he was tired.

‎Then you noticed it.

‎The way his fingers tapped nervously against the steering wheel.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎“Hm?”

‎“Where are we going?”

‎“My parents' house.”

‎Your eyes widened.

‎His parents.

‎The parents.

‎The ones he hadn't seen in two years.

‎The ones he left behind when he moved to Seoul.

‎“Heeseung...”

‎His grip tightened slightly around the wheel.

‎“I called them yesterday.”

‎A weak laugh escaped him.

‎“And?”

‎“We talked.”

‎Your heart softened.

‎“Really?”

‎He nodded.

‎“Really.”

‎Outside the window, neighborhoods slowly gave way to quieter streets lined with trees.

‎You reached over and squeezed his hand.

‎He immediately intertwined your fingers.

‎“The thing is...” he continued, eyes fixed on the road, “I spent so much time trying to prove I didn't need them that I forgot they're still my parents.”

‎You leaned your head against his shoulder.

‎Neither of you spoke after that.

‎You didn't need to.

‎—

‎The house was beautiful.

‎Large.

‎You barely had time to process anything before the front door flew open.

‎A woman rushed outside.

‎“Oh my God.”

‎Heeseung froze.

‎His mother grabbed his face between both hands.

‎“Look at you.”

‎You watched his expression crumble.

‎“Hi, Mom.”

‎She pulled him into a hug so tight you thought she might never let go.

‎Then a man appeared behind her.

‎Older.

‎For a moment, nobody moved.

‎Then his father stepped forward.

‎And hugged him too.

‎Just like that.

‎No dramatic speeches.

‎Just a father who missed his son.

‎You looked away quickly, giving them privacy.

‎—

‎Dinner lasted nearly four hours.

‎His mother adored you immediately.

‎His father tried to act intimidating for approximately six minutes before giving up completely.

‎By dessert, they were showing you embarrassing childhood photos.

‎“Oh my God.”

‎You stared at one picture.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎“What?”

‎“You were so cute.”

‎His mother laughed.

‎“He was adorable.”

‎“I was not.”

‎“You absolutely were.”

‎His father nodded.

‎The table erupted into laughter.

‎For the first time since arriving, you saw him relax completely.

‎His mother noticed it too.

‎You caught her smiling softly at him when he wasn't looking.

‎When it was finally time to leave, she hugged you tightly.

‎“Take care of him.”

‎You smiled.

‎“I will.”

‎Then she whispered—

‎“And thank you.”

‎—

‎You thought the day was over.

‎Apparently, you were wrong.

‎Because instead of driving home, Heeseung pulled into a small parking lot overlooking Lake Ontario.

‎The city skyline glittered in the distance.

‎Thousands of lights reflected across the dark water.

‎You leaned your head against his shoulder as the two of you stood near the railing.

‎“You seem happy.”

‎A small smile appeared on his face.

‎“I am.”

‎His answer came so quickly it made your chest ache.

‎For a moment, he simply stared out at the water.

‎Then he took a slow breath.

‎“There's something I need to tell you.”

‎Immediately, your stomach flipped.

‎“Oh no.”

‎He laughed.

‎“Why is that your first reaction?”

‎“Because every time someone says that, something terrible follows.”

‎“I promise it's not terrible.”

‎Then his expression softened.

‎More serious this time.

‎“I applied for a teaching position.”

‎You blinked.

‎“A teaching position?”

‎He nodded.

‎“In Canada.”

‎Your brain completely stopped working.

‎“…What?”

‎“Last month.”

‎“Heeseung.”

‎His ears turned slightly pink.

‎“I wasn't sure anything would come from it.”

‎Your eyes widened.

‎“You applied last month?”

‎“Yeah.”

‎“You didn't tell me?”

‎“I didn't want to get your hopes up.”

‎You stared at him.

‎The realization slowly settled over you.

‎Canada.

‎Not Seoul.

‎Not missing each other every single day.

‎Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

‎“You're moving here?”

‎A nervous laugh escaped him.

‎“If everything goes well.”

‎“Heeseung...”

‎His smile became smaller.

‎Softer.

‎“I got tired of counting down the days until I could see you.”

‎“So I figured...”

‎He stepped closer.

‎“…maybe I should stop making you wait.”

‎“You idiot.”

‎“I know.”

‎You hit his arm.

‎Then immediately threw your arms around him.

‎He laughed, catching you effortlessly.

‎“You couldn't tell me this sooner?”

‎“I wanted to tell you in person.”

‎Your face remained buried in his shoulder.

‎You weren't sure how long you stayed like that.

‎A minute.

‎Maybe longer.

‎Eventually, he pulled back slightly.

‎“There's one more thing.”

‎You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.

‎“Why are there so many things?”

‎“Just one.”

‎“You said that last time.”

‎His laugh echoed softly between you.

‎Then he reached into his coat pocket.

‎Your heart skipped.

‎“Oh.”

‎A small velvet box appeared.

‎“Oh.”

‎His smile turned nervous.

‎Very nervous.

‎Which immediately made you nervous too.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎“It's not what you think.”

‎“Then why do you have a box?”

‎“Because jewelry stores put things in boxes.”

‎You stared.

‎He stared back.

‎Neither of you said anything.

‎Then suddenly both of you started laughing.

‎His thumb brushed across the edge of the box.

‎When he opened it, a delicate ring rested inside.

‎Simple.

‎Beautiful.

‎Your breath caught.

‎“Heeseung...”

‎He took the ring out carefully.

‎“This isn't a proposal.”

‎You looked up.

‎His eyes never left yours.

‎“I know you're still studying and have things to achieve.”

‎His voice was quiet.

‎Certain.

‎“And I'm not asking you to marry me tomorrow.”

‎The wind moved softly around you.

‎The city lights shimmered behind him.

‎“I just wanted to give you something.”

‎His fingers wrapped gently around yours.

‎“A promise.”

‎Your throat tightened painfully.

‎“A promise?”

‎He nodded.

‎“That I'm serious about us.”

‎Your vision blurred immediately.

‎“That no matter how long it takes...”

‎His voice softened.

‎“…no matter where life takes us for a while...”

‎Another step closer.

‎“…I'm staying.”

‎A tear slipped down your cheek.

‎He smiled.

‎“I just thought you deserved proof.”

‎You laughed through your tears.

‎“You know normal people buy flowers, right?”

‎“Flowers die.”

‎You laughed harder.

‎His smile widened.

‎Then carefully, he slid the ring onto your finger.

‎It fit perfectly.

‎You simply stared at it.

‎Then at him.

‎Then back at the ring.

‎A grin slowly spread across your face.

‎“So.”

‎His eyes narrowed immediately.

‎“No.”

‎“Does this mean we're engaged?”

‎“Absolutely not.”

‎“Promise ring sounds suspiciously close to pre-engaged.”

‎He groaned.

‎“You are impossible.”

‎You held up your hand dramatically.

‎“Wow. My fiancé is so mean.”

‎“I'm not your fiancé... yet.”

‎“He moved countries for me.”

‎“I applied for a job.”

‎“He bought me a ring.”

‎“It's a promise ring.”

‎“He introduced me to his parents.”

‎His eyes closed briefly.

‎You could physically see the regret.

‎“Oh my God.”

‎Your laughter echoed across the water.

‎A second later, his arms wrapped around your waist.

‎“Keep talking,” he warned.

‎“What are you gonna do? Punish me?”

‎“I will...” he smirked.

‎“Or tell my future in-laws on me?”

‎He immediately buried his face in your shoulder.

‎Completely defeated.

‎You laughed so hard your stomach hurt.

‎The future didn't feel scary anymore.

‎Because no matter what happened next...

‎You wouldn't be facing it alone.

‎The ring gleamed softly beneath the city lights.

‎Not an engagement.

‎Not yet.

‎THE END

‎

[heevangell]

I miss heeseung 😭😭

Same girl same

[heevangell]

I just read your His girlfriend's sister fic and I'm obsessed! It was so good. Any chance we might get a part two in the future? Either way, amazing job! 💕

You might get a second part or longer ver. 🫣

[heevangell]

Hi, i love your work so much!! when are you posting the next chapter of "i started living the day you noticed me"???

Heyy! I have been so busy this week so I didn't have time to write but I will post it in the next 3 days so please be patient and stay tuned:)))

[heevangell]

Hi! Can i please request a one shot fic wherein Heeseung is your older sister’s boyfriend? He saw you walking alone caught in the rain while walking back home and offered to go to his apartment bc it’s getting cold and your house is still minutes away. My explanation is kinda chaotic (forgive me). You write so good btw:) have a great day ahead!

a/n: this feels rushed but I hope you enjoy it! and you didn't describe it well but...kinda tried:)))

His girlfriend’s sister➝

‎The rain started before you even left campus.

‎Not the soft kind either.

‎It poured in violent sheets against the sidewalks, turning the city into blurred lights and reflections. Your sneakers were soaked within minutes, your jacket sticking cold against your skin as you hurried down the empty street with your bag clutched against your chest.

‎You should’ve called your sister.

‎But the thought alone made guilt crawl up your throat.

‎Because lately, hearing her talk about him felt unbearable.

‎“Heeseung picked me up from work today.”

‎“Heeseung said we should all go out sometime.”

‎“Heeseung this. Heeseung that.”

‎Like his name had started living inside your head rent-free.

‎Pathetic.

‎You wiped rainwater from your face with a frustrated sigh, pulling your sleeves over your hands as the wind cut through you.

‎Your house was still fifteen minutes away.

‎Maybe more.

‎A pair of headlights suddenly slowed beside you.

‎You ignored them at first until the passenger window rolled down.

‎“…What are you doing out here?”

‎Your heart nearly stopped.

‎“Heeseung?”

‎He leaned across the driver’s seat, dark hair falling into his eyes as rain hammered against the roof of his car. Even in the dim streetlight, he looked unfairly pretty.

‎And concerned.

‎Too concerned.

‎“I could ask you the same thing,” you muttered.

‎His gaze dragged over you slowly.

‎Your soaked clothes. Your shaking hands. The fact that you were visibly freezing.

‎His jaw tightened instantly.

‎“Get in.”

‎“I’m fine.”

‎“You’re shivering.”

‎“It’s just rain.”

‎He stared at you for a second longer before unlocking the door anyway.

‎“Get in.”

‎Something about his tone made your stomach flip.

‎Not demanding.

‎Worried.

‎And that was worse.

‎You hesitated only a second before climbing inside, immediately hit by warmth and the faint scent of his cologne.

‎This was a mistake.

‎“You’ll get your seats wet,” you mumbled.

‎“I don’t care.”

‎The windshield wipers moved rhythmically as silence filled the car.

‎Your pulse was loud enough to embarrass you.

‎Heeseung adjusted the heater toward you without saying anything, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel.

‎“You should’ve called someone.”

‎“I was going to.”

‎“You weren’t.”

‎You glanced at him.

‎“How do you know?”

‎“Because you’re stubborn.”

‎There was the smallest hint of amusement in his voice now, but it disappeared quickly when he looked over and noticed how hard you were shivering.

‎His brows furrowed immediately.

‎“Your lips are literally turning blue.”

‎“I’m dramatic-looking naturally.”

‎That earned a quiet laugh.

‎A real one.

‎The sound did dangerous things to your chest.

‎Then he spoke again.

‎“My apartment’s closer.”

‎You blinked. “What?”

‎“You need to warm up.”

‎“No, it’s okay—”

‎“You’re not walking another fifteen minutes like this.”

‎The words came out sharper than expected.

‎Protective.

‎You looked away quickly.

‎Because that tone— that care— it meant too much to you already.

‎And it shouldn’t.

‎“Heeseung, my sister—”

‎“Is at her friend’s birthday dinner,” he interrupted. “She told me earlier.”

‎Right.

‎Of course she did.

‎“She’ll kill me if she finds out I dragged you around in this weather.”

‎Dragged.

‎Not took care of.

‎Not worried about.

‎Dragged.

‎You hated how relieved that made you feel.

‎The apartment was warm.

‎Too warm.

‎The second you stepped inside, reality hit you all at once.

‎You were alone with your sister’s boyfriend.

‎At night.

‎Wearing his clothes five minutes later because he refused to let you stay in wet ones.

‎“You can leave them outside the bathroom,” he said casually after handing you a shirt and sweatpants. “I’ll throw them in the dryer.”

‎Casually.

‎Like this wasn’t destroying you internally.

‎The shirt smelled like him.

‎You stared at yourself in the mirror for a long moment after changing, fingers tightening around the oversized sleeves.

‎This was bad.

‎So unbelievably bad.

‎When you stepped out, Heeseung was standing in the kitchen making ramen like this was normal.

‎His eyes flickered up.

‎And stopped.

‎You wished they hadn’t.

‎The shirt hung low on you, sleeves covering your hands completely. Something unreadable crossed his face before he looked away almost immediately.

‎“Better?” he asked quietly.

‎“Yeah.”

‎Your voice sounded smaller than usual.

‎He nodded once before turning back to the stove.

‎Rain hit the windows softly now, filling the silence between you.

‎You sat on the counter while he cooked, trying not to stare at the way his rings glinted under the kitchen light.

‎Trying not to remember every family dinner where he sat beside your sister smiling gently while you pretended your chest didn’t ache.

‎“You’ve been avoiding me.”

‎Your head snapped up.

‎“What?”

‎He glanced over his shoulder briefly.

‎“At your parents’ house.”

‎Your stomach dropped instantly.

‎“I haven’t.”

‎“You have.”

‎His tone stayed calm.

‎Certain.

‎“You barely look at me anymore.”

‎Because if I do, I’ll ruin everything.

‎The thought nearly slipped out.

‎You looked down at your hands instead.

‎“I’ve just been busy.”

‎He was quiet for a moment.

‎Then—

‎“Did I do something?”

‎That almost hurt more.

‎Because he sounded genuinely worried.

‎“No.”

‎“Then why does it feel like you hate me lately?”

‎Hate him.

‎You nearly laughed.

‎Instead, your throat tightened painfully.

‎You didn’t notice him getting closer until he was suddenly standing right in front of you.

‎Too close.

‎Your breath caught instantly.

‎“You can tell me if I did something wrong,” he said softly.

‎The concern in his eyes was unbearable.

‎You looked away first.

‎“You didn’t.”

‎“Then look at me.”

‎Your pulse stumbled.

‎“Heeseung—”

‎“Look at me.”

‎And stupidly—

‎you did.

‎Because the second your eyes met his, the room shifted.

‎Something changed.

‎The air suddenly felt too heavy. Too quiet.

‎Like both of you realized something at the exact same time and neither knew what to do with it.

‎His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before snapping back up.

‎Your heart nearly stopped.

‎Then his phone started ringing.

‎The sound shattered everything instantly.

‎Your sister’s contact photo lit up the screen.

‎You moved away from him so fast it was embarrassing.

‎Heeseung stared at the phone for a long second without answering.

‎And somehow—

‎that hurt too.

‎“You should pick up,” you whispered.

‎His jaw tightened.

‎The phone kept vibrating between you.

‎Finally, he grabbed it with a frustrated sigh and answered.

‎“Hey.”

‎You hopped off the counter immediately, creating distance before you lost your mind completely.

‎Your sister’s cheerful voice echoed faintly through the speaker.

‎And reality came crashing back.

‎This was wrong.

‎Wrong wrong wrong.

‎You grabbed your still-damp bag quickly.

‎“I should go.”

‎Heeseung looked up instantly.

‎“What?”

‎“I’m fine now.”

‎“You’re not walking home alone this late.”

‎“I’ll call a cab.”

‎“You can stay until the rain stops.”

‎His voice sounded almost desperate at the end.

‎That was the final straw.

‎You shook your head before he could say anything else.

‎Because if you stayed longer, you were terrified of what would happen.

‎Terrified of yourself.

‎Terrified of him.

‎Terrified that maybe—

‎just maybe—

‎he felt it too.

‎You reached the front door quickly, slipping your shoes back on with trembling hands.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎He looked at you immediately.

‎And for one horrible second, neither of you spoke.

‎Rain tapped softly against the windows.

‎His girlfriend was still on the phone.

‎And yet all he could look at was you.

‎“Don’t,” he said quietly.

‎Your chest tightened.

‎“Don’t what?”

‎His expression cracked slightly then.

‎Just enough for you to see it.

‎The conflict. The guilt. The want.

‎“Look at me like that.”

‎Your breath caught.

‎“Like what?”

‎Heeseung exhaled shakily, eyes closing for half a second before he finally whispered—

‎“Like you’d let me ruin both our lives.”

‎

[heevangell]

Sooo I have seen all your requests and I will be working on it.... I've been busy all week so please be patient:)

[heevangell]

IT'S NOT A WRONG NUMBER

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut

warnings: 18+ content, phone sex, strong language, dirty talk, mutual pining

Tag list : @iverrr @starboyhee @every-w @22bows @multistanerrrrr @chromehees @wndrlndhee @d0llddeonu @isagistar @seongishyeonvz @yenienha @jaydreamm @collywobblvs @mheretoreadff @heejakelvr @enhaxlhs @noisyjunglegorgon @perastina @heeqluv @lyzoor @irisseungz @melodisic @marigold55 @smarteoasis @aaeli01 @yunlazia @honeyism0770 @jxkezip @babbatt @enhoonxx @ynnii @deepestpoetrychild @enaesthetix @rayofsunshineeee @bluepains @floradavidson @heeblw @heehee67 @sweetcloudie @xoxojisu @booskies @coupsarchive @hyyhwriter @hsngx @kzjjong @hanjisdoll @hee-isyumaf @bwjewldz13 @wonniecaramelmacchiato @goosemantheweeb

(I tried to tag as much as I can:)

‎It happened on a Thursday night.

‎The kind of Thursday that felt cursed from the moment you woke up.

‎Rain soaked the city in cold silver streaks, your favorite heels snapped halfway through your commute, and your boss spent the entire afternoon passive-aggressively correcting presentations you had already fixed twice. By the time your date finally picked you up, you were exhausted enough to cancel.

‎You should have trusted your instincts.

‎Because dinner was a nightmare.

‎The man across from you spent forty minutes talking about his ex-girlfriend in painful detail — her yoga business, her emotional unavailability, her “trust issues.” He laughed too loudly at his own jokes and checked his phone every few minutes while you nodded through gritted teeth.

‎Then, somehow, impossibly, it got worse.

‎When the bill arrived, he looked at it, looked at you, and said, “You don’t mind splitting, right? Parking downtown is insane.”

‎You stared at him.

‎As if maybe if you looked hard enough, the universe would explain how a man could be so deeply embarrassing.

‎You paid your half. He asked you to Venmo him for the parking ticket.

‎You went home before you committed a felony.

‎By midnight, you were sprawled across your bed makeup half ruined, a cheap bottle of wine balanced dangerously beside your thigh. Your room glowed dimly from fairy lights strung along the ceiling, and your head buzzed with anger, humiliation, and alcohol.

‎Your phone was blurry in your hand when you opened your best friend’s chat.

‎You hit record.

‎“I swear to God,” you slurred dramatically, “if one more man wastes my fucking time, I’m going to lose my mind.”

‎You groaned into your pillow before continuing.

‎“I just want someone to pin me against the wall and ruin me. No talking. No bullshit. Just one night where someone actually knows how to fuck the thoughts out of my head. Is that seriously too much to ask?”

‎You ended the recording.

‎Hit send.

‎And immediately tossed your phone somewhere onto the blankets before burying your face into your pillow with a miserable noise.

‎The next morning, sunlight stabbed directly through your curtains and into your skull.

‎You woke up dehydrated, dizzy, and regretting every life choice you’d made in the last twelve hours.

‎Your phone buzzed beside your cheek.

‎Unknown Number.

‎Your stomach dropped before you even opened it.

‎Unknown:

‎“That’s a very bold way to say hello. Bold… honest… and extremely dangerous.”

‎Your entire body went cold.

‎No.

‎No no no.

‎You shot upright so fast the room spun.

‎Hands shaking, you opened the chat history.

‎And there it was.

‎Your voice note.

‎Sent to a number you didn’t recognize.

‎“Oh my fucking God,” you whispered aloud.

‎Your face burned so hot it physically hurt.

‎You typed so quickly you almost dropped your phone.

‎You:

‎Oh my god I’m SO sorry. That was meant for my friend. Please ignore it. I was drunk.

‎Three dots appeared instantly.

‎Unknown:

‎“Drunk words are sober thoughts, no?”

‎Your heart skipped.

‎Unknown:

‎“Don’t apologize. It was… interesting.”

‎You covered your face with your hands.

‎Mortification flooded every nerve in your body.

‎You should block him.

‎You absolutely should block him.

‎Instead, you typed:

‎You:

‎Please forget it ever happened.

‎A pause.

‎Then:

‎Unknown:

‎“Hard to forget a message like that.”

‎Another bubble appeared seconds later.

‎Unknown:

‎“But if it makes you feel better… my name is H.”

‎You stared at the message far longer than necessary.

‎Something about it unsettled you.

‎Not in a bad way.

‎There was no creepiness in his tone. No desperation. No weird insistence.

‎Just calm amusement.

‎Like he had all the time in the world.

‎You didn’t answer for nearly an hour.

‎But eventually, curiosity won.

‎You:

‎You’re surprisingly normal about this.

‎H:

‎“Should I be less normal?”

‎You laughed despite yourself.

‎And somehow, against all logic, the conversation continued.

‎—

‎At first, it was harmless.

‎Mostly.

‎You learned he liked old movies and black coffee. That he stayed awake too late because silence felt easier at night. That he worked long hours and hated crowded spaces.

‎He never gave too many details about himself.

‎But somehow, he always managed to get details out of you.

‎The conversations slipped naturally into your routine.

‎Good morning texts.

‎Late-night complaints.

‎The strange part wasn’t how quickly you became comfortable with him.

‎It was how easy it felt.

‎You found yourself checking your phone during meetings, waiting for his messages.

‎H:

‎“How bad was today?”

‎You:

‎Emotionally? Catastrophic.

‎H:

‎“Need me to threaten someone for you?”

‎You:

‎Would you?

‎H:

‎“Without hesitation.”

‎And the worst part?

‎You could practically hear the dry amusement in his voice every time he texted.

‎You started imagining him.

‎Not clearly.

‎Just fragments.

‎Tall.

‎Maybe broad shoulders.

‎Calm eyes.

‎A low voice.

‎Hands that looked dangerous.

‎It became embarrassingly easy to think about him at night.

‎Especially because he started calling.

‎The first time happened after one particularly awful day at work.

‎You had stayed late fixing a campaign proposal while your manager criticized everything you touched. By the time you got home, your chest felt tight with frustration.

‎Your phone rang at 11:43 PM.

‎H.

‎Your stomach flipped.

‎You answered carefully.

‎“Hello?”

‎For a second, there was only silence.

‎Then—

‎“Your voice sounds different when you’re tired.”

‎The sound of him hit you like a physical thing.

‎Low.

‎Unfairly calm.

‎You sat down slowly on the edge of your bed.

‎“You’ve never heard my voice sober,” you replied weakly.

‎A soft chuckle crackled through the speaker.

‎And God.

‎That laugh.

‎“You had a rough day.”

‎It wasn’t a question.

‎You closed your eyes.

‎“How can you tell?”

‎“You sound like you’re holding yourself together with tape.”

‎You laughed quietly.

‎“Well. Work sucked. I suck. Everything sucks.”

‎“You don’t suck.”

‎The certainty in his tone made your stomach twist.

‎You leaned back against your pillows, staring at the ceiling while his voice wrapped around you warm and slow.

‎And somehow, over the next hour, he talked you out of your spiral without even trying.

‎By the end of the call, you were smiling.

‎That should have scared you more than it did.

‎—

‎The flirting started gradually.

‎Softer voices after midnight.

‎The kind of tension that built slowly enough to feel inevitable.

‎One night, you were curled beneath your blankets while rain tapped softly against your windows.

‎H:

‎“What do you do when your thoughts get too loud?”

‎You stared at the message.

‎Then typed honestly:

‎You:

‎I overthink until I can’t breathe.

‎The typing bubble appeared immediately.

‎H:

‎“I think you spend too much time inside your own head.”

‎You:

‎Probably.

‎H:

‎“Tell me what you want right now.”

‎You hesitated with your thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

‎You swallowed hard.

‎Then typed the truth before you could stop yourself.

‎You:

‎I want someone else to take control for once.

‎I’m tired of thinking all the time.

‎The read receipt appeared instantly.

‎Then nothing.

‎One minute.

‎Two.

‎Three.

‎Finally—

‎H:

‎“If I were there…”

‎Your breath caught immediately.

‎Another message.

‎H:

‎“I’d pull you onto my lap first.”

‎Heat rushed up your throat.

‎H:

‎“You’d still be overthinking. I can tell.”

‎Your fingers tightened around the phone.

‎H:

‎“So I’d make you look at me while I touched you.”

‎Your breathing slowed unconsciously.

‎H:

‎“I’d push your hair behind your ear… kiss your neck until you stopped thinking about everything except my mouth on you.”

‎Your thighs pressed together instinctively.

‎Jesus Christ.

‎H:

‎“And then I’d ask you nicely to be a good girl and tell me exactly where you want my hands.”

‎You stared at the screen so long it dimmed.

‎Your phone buzzed again.

‎H:

‎“Too much?”

‎You inhaled shakily.

‎You:

‎No.

‎Three dots appeared.

‎Then disappeared.

‎Then appeared again.

‎H:

‎“Good.”

‎Then....

‎He called you.

‎The call had already lasted 15 minutes when Heeseung’s voice dropped into that dangerous, velvet tone you were starting to crave like oxygen.

‎“Tell me where your hand is right now,” he murmured, low and commanding.

‎You were lying on your bed in the dark, heart hammering against your ribs. “On my stomach…”

‎A soft, amused hum. “Move it lower, baby. Slowly. Push your panties aside and tell me how wet you are.”

‎Your breath hitched as you obeyed. The moment your fingers slipped beneath the fabric, you let out a shaky whimper.

‎“I’m… really wet,” you whispered, embarrassed by how slick you already were.

‎“Good girl. Circle your clit for me.”

‎You did as he said, fingers moving in lazy circles. A soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

‎“Let me hear you. Imagine it’s my tongue instead. I’d lick you so slowly, baby… tasting every drop until you’re shaking and begging.”

‎Your hips jerked involuntarily. You pressed harder, breath coming faster.

‎“Add a finger,” he instructed calmly. “Push it inside that tight little pussy and tell me how it feels.”

‎You slid one finger in, then another, curling them the way you wished he would. “Feels… so good,” you gasped. “But not enough. I want you.”

‎Heeseung’s breathing grew heavier. You could hear the faint rustle of sheets on his end, like he was touching himself too.

‎“You want my cock instead of your fingers?” he asked, voice dark. “You want me to stretch you open and fuck you until the only thing you remember is my name?”

‎“Yes—” you moaned, pumping your fingers faster, the wet sounds embarrassingly loud in your quiet room. “Please,… I need it.”

‎“Greedy girl,” he chuckled lowly, but his voice cracked with arousal. “Keep fucking yourself with your fingers. Pretend it’s me. Deep and hard, just how you like it.”

‎You obeyed, adding a third finger, thighs trembling as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly. His voice guided you the entire time — telling you how he’d pin your wrists above your head, how he’d bury himself inside you in one thrust, how he’d fuck you until you were creaming around his cock.

‎“I’m close—” you whimpered, back arching off the bed.

‎“Cum for me, baby,” he growled, control finally slipping. “Let me hear how pretty you sound when you fall apart.”

‎The orgasm crashed into you hard.

‎"— fuck—” —

‎Heeseung groaned deeply on the other end, the sound raw and satisfied, like he was coming undone just from listening to you.

‎For a long moment, only heavy breathing filled the line.

‎Then Heeseung spoke again, voice soft and warm, almost tender.

‎“Good girl,” he murmured. “You did so well for me.”

‎You smiled tiredly, cheeks flushed, heart still racing.

‎“I wish you were here,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

‎Heeseung was quiet for a second.

‎“So do I,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper.

‎You buried your face into your pillow with a groan.

‎Because this was insane.

‎You didn’t know his real name.

‎Didn’t know his face.

‎And yet somehow he had crawled beneath your skin so thoroughly that hearing his voice at night had become the best part of your day.

‎—

‎In real life, Lee Heeseung barely existed to you.

‎Not because he was forgettable.

‎Actually, the opposite.

‎He was the kind of attractive that felt intimidating up close.

‎Tall. Quiet. Sharp-featured.

‎The kind of man who looked unfairly good even under fluorescent office lighting.

‎He worked two departments over as a graphic designer for your agency, usually tucked into the far corner with headphones around his neck and black hoodies pulled over broad shoulders.

‎Most people left him alone.

‎Not because he was rude.

‎Because he seemed… distant.

‎He spoke softly when necessary. Nodded politely in elevators. Occasionally offered dry comments during meetings that made people laugh harder than expected.

‎But he never lingered.

‎Never joined office gossip.

‎Never flirted.

‎You had spoken to him maybe four times total.

‎And every interaction lasted under thirty seconds.

‎“Morning.”

‎“Morning.”

‎That was usually it.

‎Sometimes you caught him looking at you during meetings.

‎But every time your eyes met, he looked away calmly enough that you assumed you imagined it.

‎The irony was almost painful.

‎Because every night, you lay in bed smiling at your phone while texting the same man.

‎You just didn’t know it yet.

‎—

‎It happened two weeks later.

‎Friday evening.

‎The office was nearly empty, rain hitting the windows in soft rhythmic taps while most employees rushed home before traffic worsened.

‎You were exhausted.

‎Again.

‎You sat alone in the break room stirring instant ramen absentmindedly while waiting for your laptop to finish updating.

‎Your phone buzzed against the counter.

‎H:

‎“Still working?”

‎You smiled automatically.

‎You:

‎Yep.

‎H:

‎“Long day?”

‎You:

‎I think I’ve lived seventeen years since this morning.

‎A quiet laugh sounded behind you.

‎Not from your phone.

‎Real.

‎You froze.

‎Slowly, you turned around.

‎Lee Heeseung stood near the coffee machine holding a paper cup.

‎Red hair.

‎Dark hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows.

‎And in his hand—

‎His phone.

‎Your stomach dropped violently.

‎His screen lit up.

‎Another message came through.

‎Your phone buzzed at the exact same moment.

‎H:

‎“Seventeen years is dramatic.”

‎The world stopped.

‎You stared at him.

‎He stared back.

‎Calm.

‎Completely calm.

‎Like he’d known this moment would happen eventually.

‎Your pulse roared in your ears.

‎“No way,” you whispered.

‎A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

‎It changed his entire face.

‎Softer. Warmer. Dangerous in a completely different way.

‎“Hi,” he said quietly.

‎Your brain short-circuited.

‎“You—”

‎He lifted his coffee calmly.

‎“Me.”

‎“You’re H?”

‎“I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out.”

‎You looked horrified.

‎“You knew?!”

‎His mouth twitched.

‎“Not immediately.”

‎“Oh my God.”

‎“But I recognized your voice pretty fast.”

‎You covered your face instantly.

‎“I need to quit my job.”

‎His laugh was low and soft.

‎“You really don’t.”

‎Mortification consumed you whole.

‎“You heard that voice note.”

‎“I did.”

‎“I’m actually going to die.”

‎“No,” he replied calmly, stepping closer. “You’re not.”

‎Your heart started beating harder for an entirely different reason.

‎Because up close, he was worse.

‎Much worse.

‎Pretty in that dangerous, unfair way that made your brain stop functioning correctly.

‎Dark eyes.

‎Sharp jaw.

‎A faint scent of rain and coffee.

‎And that voice.

‎God.

‎That voice.

‎“You should’ve told me,” you accused weakly.

‎“I almost did.”

‎“Almost?”

‎His gaze held yours steadily.

‎“You seemed more honest when you didn’t know who I was.”

‎The air shifted.

‎Something electric slid beneath your skin.

‎Your throat suddenly felt dry.

‎Heeseung looked at you for a long second before speaking again.

‎“You smile at your phone when you text me.”

‎Your breath caught.

‎“I noticed during meetings.”

‎You blinked slowly.

‎“Oh my God.”

‎“And,” he added softly, “you bite your lip when you’re nervous.”

‎Your pulse stumbled.

‎“You’re doing it right now.”

‎You immediately stopped.

‎Which only made him smile wider.

‎The realization hit you all at once.

‎The late-night calls.

‎The calm voice..

‎It was him.

‎Lee Heeseung.

‎And suddenly every interaction at work felt different.

‎Your phone buzzed again between you.

‎You looked down automatically.

‎H:

‎“Still want someone to ruin you?”

‎Your face burned instantly.

‎You looked up in horror.

‎Heeseung tilted his head slightly, eyes unreadable.

‎Then, very softly—

‎“Because I can still hear that voice note in my head.”

‎You didn't say anything...

‎The elevator ride down to the lobby was pure torture.

‎Not because anything happened.

‎Because nothing did.

‎Lee Heeseung stood beside you in complete silence, one hand tucked into the pocket of his hoodie while the other loosely held his phone.

‎You could feel his presence without even looking at him.

‎Awful for your sanity.

‎The elevator hummed softly as numbers blinked downward one by one.

‎Your phone buzzed again.

‎You looked down instantly despite yourself.

‎H:

‎“You stopped replying.”

‎You turned slowly toward him.

‎“You are literally standing next to me."

‎His expression remained calm, but amusement flickered in his eyes.

‎“And yet you still checked.”

‎Your stomach flipped traitorously.

‎God.

‎Everything sounded different now that you knew it was him.

‎Every text suddenly had a face attached to it.

A voice.

Eyes.

‎Hands.

‎You immediately shoved that thought away.

‎“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you muttered.

‎“Maybe.”

‎The elevator doors opened.

‎Cold air rushed through the lobby as a few employees hurried outside beneath umbrellas. You started walking toward the exit quickly, mostly because standing too close to him felt dangerous now.

‎Unfortunately, he followed.

‎Your heels clicked against marble flooring while your heart tried to beat directly out of your chest.

‎“How long?” you asked suddenly.

‎Heeseung glanced at you.

‎“How long what?”

‎“How long have you known it was me?”

‎“A while.”

‎You stopped walking.

‎“A while?”

‎His mouth twitched slightly.

‎“The night you called me crying after your manager yelled at you.”

‎Horror washed over you instantly.

‎“Oh my God.”

‎“You said you wanted to quit and open a café somewhere quiet.”

‎You stared at him in disbelief.

‎“You remember that?”

‎“I remember everything you tell me.”

‎That should not have affected you as much as it did.

‎But something in his tone — soft and matter-of-fact — wrapped around your chest painfully tight.

‎Because people rarely listened to you that carefully.

‎“You should’ve said something,” you said quietly.

‎He leaned one shoulder lazily against the wall beside the entrance.

‎“Would you have kept talking to me if I had?”

‎You opened your mouth.

‎Closed it again.

‎Because honestly?

‎You didn’t know.

‎He watched your expression carefully before sighing softly.

‎“That’s what I thought.”

‎The teasing edge in his voice was gone now.

‎This version of him felt more dangerous somehow.

‎You crossed your arms defensively.

‎“This is insane.”

‎“A little.”

‎“You catfished me.”

‎His eyebrows lifted.

‎“I used my actual phone number.”

‎“That’s not the point.”

‎“You’re upset because I’m attractive.”

‎Your jaw dropped.

‎Heeseung finally laughed properly at that — low and warm and devastatingly pretty.

‎“You’re unbelievable.”

‎“You’ve been flirting with me for three weeks.”

‎“Because I didn’t know it was you!”

‎“And now you do.”

‎The air between you shifted again.

‎Your heartbeat stumbled awkwardly.

‎You knew the man who whispered soft things to you over midnight phone calls was the same man standing only inches away.

‎It should’ve made things easier.

‎Instead it made everything infinitely more intense.

‎“You’re blushing again.”

‎“I hate you.”

‎“No, you don’t.”

‎The certainty in his voice made your pulse jump.

‎Because unfortunately—

‎No.

‎You definitely didn’t.

‎—

‎After that night, things became unbearable.

‎Not in a bad way.

‎In a you-can’t-function-like-a-normal-person-anymore way.

‎Because now every interaction carried a second meaning beneath it.

‎Every glance felt loaded.

‎Every text made your stomach turn.

‎And Lee Heeseung was entirely too calm about all of it.

‎Monday morning, you walked into work sleep-deprived and emotionally unstable after staying awake until 3 AM talking to him on the phone.

‎You barely made it three steps into the office before hearing:

‎“Morning.”

‎Your entire nervous system short-circuited.

‎Heeseung sat at his desk across the room, headphones resting around his neck while he sipped coffee one-handed.

‎Completely casual.

‎Like he hadn’t spent two hours the night before murmuring things that kept replaying in your head against your will.

‎Several coworkers passed between you, oblivious.

‎“Morning.”

‎His eyes lingered on you for exactly one second too long.

‎Then he smiled slightly and looked back at his monitor.

‎You nearly walked directly into a wall.

‎Mina from marketing caught your arm immediately.

‎“Jesus. You okay?”

‎“No,” you whispered honestly.

‎She blinked.

‎“…Rough weekend?”

‎You had absolutely no idea how to explain that your quiet coworker had accidentally become the hottest problem in your life.

‎So instead you nodded weakly and escaped to your desk.

‎Your phone buzzed seconds later.

‎H:

‎“You almost walked into the wall.”

‎You glared across the office.

‎Heeseung didn’t even look up from his computer.

‎You:

‎This is psychological warfare.

‎H:

‎“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

‎Your stomach betrayed you instantly.

‎—

‎By Wednesday, the tension had become genuinely ridiculous.

‎You avoided being alone with him.

‎Which only seemed to amuse him more.

‎Because every time you escaped, another text arrived minutes later.

‎H:

‎“Running away again?”

‎Or—

‎H:

‎“You get nervous very easily for someone who sent me that voice note.”

‎Like he enjoyed watching you unravel slowly.

‎Which, unfortunately, he absolutely did.

‎That realization hit you during a late-night phone call.

‎“You like this,” you accused suddenly.

‎A pause crackled through the speaker.

‎“Like what?”

‎“This.”

‎You rolled onto your back dramatically.

‎“Watching me suffer.”

‎His quiet laugh slid through you like warm honey.

‎“I wouldn’t call it suffering.”

‎Another laugh.

‎God.

‎You closed your eyes.

‎“I think you enjoy making me nervous.”

‎His voice lowered slightly.

‎“I think you like being nervous.”

‎Your breath caught.

‎Silence stretched carefully between you.

‎“You always get quieter,” he murmured, “when you’re affected by something.”

‎Your fingers tightened around your phone.

‎“How do you even notice that?”

‎“I pay attention to you.”

‎The simplicity of the answer ruined you a little.

‎You pressed your face into your pillow.

‎“This is unfair.”

‎“What is?”

‎“The fact that your voice sounds like that.”

‎He laughed softly.

‎“How does it sound?”

‎You immediately regretted bringing it up.

‎“…Low.”

‎“Just low?”

‎“No.”

‎“No?”

‎You hesitated.

‎Then whispered before your dignity could stop you:

‎“It sounds like you know exactly what you’re doing.”

‎The line went quiet.

‎When he finally spoke again, his voice had dropped lower.

‎“Maybe I do.”

‎Heat rushed through your entire body.

‎This man was going to kill you.

‎“You’re quiet again,” he murmured.

‎“Shut up.”

‎Another soft laugh.

‎Then—

‎“What are you wearing?”

‎Your heart nearly stopped.

‎“Heeseung.”

‎“Hm?”

‎“You can’t just ask that.”

‎“I just did.”

‎You buried your burning face into your pillow.

‎“This conversation is over.”

‎“You don’t mean that.”

‎Unfortunately—

‎Again—

‎You heard him shift slightly on the other end of the call before his voice softened.

‎“You know what I think?”

‎You swallowed hard.

‎“What?”

‎“I think you like pretending you’re overwhelmed.”

‎Your pulse jumped.

‎“Because every time I give you an out…” His voice dipped lower. “You stay anyway.”

‎Silence.

‎And then quietly—

‎“So tell me to stop.”

‎Because suddenly it wasn’t teasing anymore.

‎It wasn’t just flirting.

‎There was something real underneath it now.

‎He was giving you control.

‎Waiting.

‎You opened your mouth.

‎But no words came out.

‎And somehow, that answer said enough.

‎On the other end of the line, Heeseung exhaled softly.

‎Almost like he was smiling.

‎“Yeah,” he murmured gently. “That’s what I thought.”

‎‎‎By Thursday night, you were losing your mind.

‎The office was nearly empty again, most employees already gone while rain blurred against the city windows outside.

‎You were packing your bag when your phone buzzed.

‎H: “Come upstairs.”

‎You: Why?

‎Three dots appeared.

‎H: “Just come here.”

‎That was it.

‎No explanation.

‎You stared at the message for a full ten seconds before grabbing your bag and heading toward the stairs like your body had already decided for you.

‎The rooftop door creaked open against the wind.

‎Cold rain-scented air wrapped around you immediately.

‎And there he was.

‎Lee Heeseung stood near the edge of the rooftop beneath the weak glow of city lights.

‎He looked over the moment you stepped outside.

‎“You came,” he said quietly.

‎“You told me to.”

‎A faint smile touched his mouth.

‎There was something different about him tonight.

‎Less teasing.

‎Too calm.

‎Your stomach twisted nervously.

‎“You know what the worst part of this has been?”

‎“What?”

‎“The waiting.”

‎Your breath caught instantly.

‎He stepped closer slowly.

‎“You call me at two in the morning when your thoughts get too loud,” he said quietly. “You tell me things you don’t tell anyone else.”

‎Another step closer.

‎“You look for me in every room now.”

‎Your heart slammed violently against your ribs.

‎“And every time I hear your voice…” His eyes locked onto yours. “I have to pretend I don’t want to touch you.”

‎The air disappeared from your lungs.

‎“Heeseung…”

‎“You said something that night,” he murmured softly.

‎You swallowed hard.

‎“What?”

‎“That you wanted someone to ruin you.”

‎Heat rushed instantly through your body.

‎His gaze never left yours.

‎“And I think,” he said carefully, voice lower now, “the problem is that I don’t want to ruin you.”

‎Your breath caught.

‎“I think I want something worse.”

‎He stopped directly in front of you now.

‎Close enough to feel his warmth.

‎Close enough that your thoughts started slipping apart completely.

‎“And what’s worse?” you whispered.

‎His jaw tightened slightly before he answered.

‎“You.”

‎The single word shattered something in you.

‎His hand lifted slowly, fingers brushing lightly against your jaw.

‎His hand slid into your hair as he pulled you against him, kissing you deep enough to make your knees weaken immediately. Heeseung kissed exactly the way he talked to you at night —

‎You grabbed the front of his shirt to steady yourself while his other hand settled against your waist like he already knew it belonged there.

‎He exhaled softly against your mouth.

‎“Fuck,” he whispered, almost frustrated. “Do you know how hard it’s been not touching you?”

‎Your cheeks burned violently.

‎“You’re not exactly easy to ignore either.”

‎A quiet laugh escaped him before his forehead rested briefly against yours.

‎For a second, neither of you moved.

‎Just breathing.

‎“So,” he murmured, eyes warm, “still think this was a wrong number?”

‎

‎

[heevangell]

Hlo, hope you are having a good day

When are u updating next, babes??

-@starboyhee

Hey:)))

I'm currently working on 'it's not a wrong number' rn and I will be posting it soon!

[heevangell]

IT'S TIME TO ACAIIII

[heevangell]

Hey whatcha doin’?

-@starboyhee

Studying 🤓

[heevangell]

TEASER : IT'S NOT A WRONG NUMBER

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

genre: strangers to lovers

synopsis:

a drunk voice note meant for your best friend gets sent to a stranger instead. what starts as pure embarrassment turns into the most addictive conversations of your life. late-night texts. long phone calls. a voice that lingers in your head long after you hang up. you both agreed to keep it anonymous.

but what happens when that voice starts sounding a little too familiar?

warnings: 18+ content, strong language, heavy tension, eventual smut, minors dni.

taglist is closed!

It's not a wrong number ♡

[heevangell]

congrats on 700 it’s well deserved 🩷!

Tysm!!💕

[heevangell]

Happy 700 followers🥳 ty!!!

[heevangell]

When are you going to drop the next part of "I started living the day you noticed me"?

Soon!!:)