Trauma Code: A Hero In Love

Trauma Code: A Hero in Love

genre: workplace romance, comedy, mutual pinning, slow-burn, banter, suggestive

Flashback 2: Reunion in the Trauma Bay

The trauma center was buzzing, as usual. Dr. Baek Kang Hyuk stood at the head of the ER, glancing through scans on the monitor while rattling off orders to the nurses. It was just another hectic day—or so he thought.

“Dr. Baek!” Jaewon called out, a phone in hand and urgency written all over his face. “We’ve got a call from Amsan Medical. They’re transferring a trauma patient here. Multiple internal injuries—urgent case.”

Kang Hyuk nodded, already preparing. “Why transfer it here?”

“They said all their ORs are occupied,” Jaewon replied. “But a trauma surgeon is already with the patient and will be performing the surgery here.”

Kang Hyuk frowned slightly. It was rare, but not unheard of. “Fine. Prep Operating Room 2. I’ll assist if needed.”

Before he could even finish the sentence, the ER doors burst open.

A stretcher came barreling through, flanked by a medical team in Amsan uniforms. Atop the gurney, a woman in a surgical gown was straddling the patient, performing CPR with practiced precision. Her eyes were laser-focused, her movements sharp and unhesitating.

Kang Hyuk froze.

There was something oddly familiar about her—even beneath the mask, even in this chaos. That gaze. That intensity. That fire he remembered so vividly.

The woman dismounted as the stretcher came to a stop. Breathing heavily, she pulled down her mask.

“I’m Dr. Song Hye Joo from Amsan Medical Hospital,” she said clearly. “We called earlier to request immediate use of your operating room. We ask for your cooperation.”

Song Hye Joo.

Of course, he knew that name.

That face.

That voice.

She turned—and her eyes met his.

A pause.

Recognition flickered in both their eyes. A beat of stillness amid the rush.

Hyejoo blinked once, her breath still catching from the ride in. Kang Hyuk straightened instinctively, something twisting in his chest.

But there was no time.

“The patient has a ruptured spleen, probable pelvic fracture, and signs of hypovolemic shock,” Hyejoo said briskly, eyes not leaving Kang Hyuk’s as if daring him to challenge her.

Instead, he nodded once. “OR 2 is prepped. Call anesthesia. Let’s move.”

They walked side by side as the gurney was pushed down the hall—two surgeons, old rivals, moving in sync once again.

Whatever history they shared, whatever words had been left unsaid years ago—would have to wait.

For now, there was a life to save.

The surgery was a success—but exhausting. Hours of high-pressure precision had passed in a blur, and now the operating room was quiet, save for the soft hum of machines and the occasional clatter of instruments being cleared away.

Dr. Baek Kang Hyuk peeled off his gloves and scrubbed his hands in silence. Beside him, Dr. Song Hyejoo did the same. Neither spoke. The air between them was thick with something unspoken—fatigue, yes, but also familiarity.

Finally, Hyejoo broke the silence, her voice low but steady.

“Would it be alright if the patient stayed here until things settle at Amsan? We’re still reorganizing post-incident.”

Kang Hyuk nodded without hesitation. “There’s space in Seoul Medical University Hospital’s trauma wing. He can stay. I’ll keep you updated on his progress… if you’re not able to visit right away.”

She looked at him—surprised, maybe even a little relieved. “Thank you.”

Another pause.

And then, softly, she said, “It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” he replied, eyes meeting hers at last.

The weight of everything they didn’t say hung between them. All the nights spent arguing over case studies, the silent hours of tutoring, the glances stolen in quiet corners of the library.

But before either could speak again, Hyejoo’s phone rang. She glanced at it, her expression tightening.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I have to go. It’s urgent.”

She picked up her coat and surgical tablet, already halfway out the door when she turned back for one last look.

“I’m leaving my patient in your care. I’ll drop by again later to check on him.” A small smile curved her lips—tired, but sincere. “Thank you again… and… see you.”

The door swung shut behind her.

“…See you,” Kang Hyuk said softly, even though she was already gone.

He stood there for a moment, alone in the sterile silence, staring at the door she’d disappeared through.

The last time he’d seen her was on campus, years ago, when she had suddenly told him she was transferring schools. No explanation. No time for goodbyes.

He had always wondered if their paths would cross again.

Who would’ve thought it would happen here, under the bright lights of the trauma bay, with lives hanging in the balance?

And yet, it felt just like her—to show up in the middle of chaos and leave just as quickly.

But this time, she said she’d come back.

This time, maybe things would be different.

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The next day arrived quietly, but Kang Hyuk found himself unusually restless.

He had told himself it was nothing. Just professional curiosity, nothing more. After all, the patient was still under his care—it made sense to expect a follow-up from the referring doctor. A check-in. A call. A return.

From her.

But all morning passed in a blur of rounds, paperwork, and silence. No messages. No signs. No Hyejoo.

By early afternoon, he’d resigned himself to the fact that maybe she wasn’t coming.

Then—

“Dr. Baek,” the head nurse called from the hallway, clipboard in hand. “Someone from Amsan Hospital is here to check on the trauma patient from yesterday.”

Kang Hyuk straightened slightly. His heart didn’t race, not exactly, but something in his chest did shift—an expectation that felt suspiciously like hope.

She came back.

But as he stepped out into the hall, the figure who greeted him wasn’t familiar at all.

It was a younger man, maybe a resident, wearing Amsan’s teal uniform. He bowed politely. “Good afternoon, Dr. Baek. I’m Dr. Han, sent by Dr. Song to monitor the patient’s condition and update the records.”

Kang Hyuk’s brows knit together. “Where’s Dr. Song?”

The resident adjusted his glasses. “Ah, she was scheduled to come herself, but she got called into an urgent meeting with our hospital director. She apologizes for not being able to stop by.”

Kang Hyuk didn’t respond immediately.

Just a slight nod.

Professional. Measured.

But the frown tugging at the edge of his mouth betrayed the flicker of disappointment he refused to show.

“I see,” he said simply.

The resident went on briefing him about Hyejoo’s requested post-op protocol, but Kang Hyuk’s thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.

So that was it?

Another brief encounter, another goodbye without warning. Just like last time.

Only this time, he knew where she worked. That she was still the same confident, capable woman from university. Still the one who caught him off guard.

He wasn’t sure if she would come back—but this time, he didn’t want to let it end without trying.

Not again.

Right behind him, Dr. Jaewon and Nurse Jangmi exchanged looks as they observed the surprisingly calm figure of Dr. Baek Kang Hyuk.

“…Okay, not to be that person,” Jangmi whispered, “but why was I half-expecting him to blow up just now?”

Jaewon tilted his head. “Right? A trauma surgeon from another hospital comes in, performs surgery, then bounces and sends updates through a resident? The old Dr. Baek would’ve lost it.”

“Exactly!” Jangmi crossed her arms, still eyeing Kang Hyuk suspiciously. “But here he is. Calm. Civilized. Not even a raised voice.”

Jaewon squinted at their boss. “You think he finally fixed his temper?”

“I don’t know…” Jangmi murmured, narrowing her eyes. “I think it has less to do with his temper and more to do with the surgeon.”

“Dr. Song?” Jaewon asked.

Jangmi nodded slowly. “He’s been… off since she showed up. Don’t you think? Distracted. Zoned out. Soft-spoken, even.”

Jaewon raised his brows. “Wow. You think he’s—?”

“Caught a different kind of fever, maybe,” Jangmi smirked. “Symptoms are all there.”

“I can hear you two,” Kang Hyuk called out, his voice low but unmistakably dry.

Jaewon and Jangmi both stiffened. Jaewon panicked first. “W-We were just talking about post-op fever symptoms! Very common this time of year!”

Jangmi elbowed him.

Kang Hyuk didn’t slow down. “Mm-hmm.”

He disappeared around the corner, white coat trailing behind him like nothing happened.

But the corners of his mouth?

They twitched. Just slightly.

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Their encounter still lingered in Hyejoo’s mind like a heartbeat she couldn’t quiet.

One moment she was fighting to save a young patient’s life, arguing with Amsan’s board for turning him away. The next, she was in an unfamiliar hospital hallway—face to face with someone she never thought she’d see again.

Baek Kang Hyuk.

The name hadn’t crossed her mind at all during the chaos of the transfer. She’d been too occupied, too furious, too focused on getting the boy the urgent care he needed. But the moment she saw his face, something in her shifted. Time bent.

A wave of memory, of familiarity, of something that had once burned quietly beneath late-night study sessions and rivalry-soaked glances.

She was relieved, she realized. Relieved to see him again after all these years.

And not just see him—see him there. Standing tall in his white coat, calm under pressure, taking control of the situation like the surgeon she always knew he’d become.

Of course he’d become someone great. She never doubted it. He was Baek Kang Hyuk—he didn’t just rise to challenges, he met them head-on and left everyone else trying to catch up.

She wanted to talk. To laugh. To ask him how life had been, what kind of doctor he’d become, if he ever thought of her the way she’d occasionally found herself thinking of him.

But life, as always, got in the way.

The Amsan Medical Director had been furious when he found out she transferred a patient to a rival hospital and performed emergency surgery there without clearance.

His voice thundered in the conference room, demanding answers. “Do you think you’re above protocol, Dr. Song?”

No, she thought. I just refuse to stand by and watch a child die because your system favors power over people.

The anger she’d swallowed for months rose to the surface—every time she watched priority given to patients with prestige, while those who couldn’t afford connections were told to wait. Told to suffer. Told to die quietly.

This boy had been her last straw.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t raise her voice. She simply reached up, unfastened the Amsan coat she wore like a weight, and laid it neatly across the table.

Then she met the director’s furious gaze with unwavering calm.

“I resign.”

The room went silent.

And just like that, she was free.

She had plans—clearer now than ever. To join a hospital that actually prioritized patients. One where she could be a doctor, not a puppet.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d end up at a place where a certain rival-turned-ally wore his coat with pride.

A place where Baek Kang Hyuk still carried that same focused fire in his eyes—the one that once pushed her to be better, and now pulled her in again, without warning.

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Trauma Code: A Hero in Love - Chapter List

rip cutedolls

Trauma Code: A Hero in Love

genre: workplace romance, comedy, mutual pinning, slow-burn, banter, suggestive

A series of one-shot stories between Dr. Baek Kang Hyuk (Ju Jihoon) and Dr. Song Hye Joo (Song Hyekyo)

When Dr. Baek’s former med school rival, Dr. Song Hyejoo, joins the trauma center team, his usual composure is shaken—just a little competitive, and maybe a little shy. As they face emergencies together, they learn to work in sync, and they rediscover something they never dared explore before.

This will be a series of one-shot stories between Dr. Baek Kang-hyuk and Dr. Song Hye-joo (my OC; played by Song Hyekyo, because why not. Also I badly need the casting directors to pair them for a romcom or melo drama together 👉🏻👈🏻).

It’s not a story where everything is in chronological order or a continuation of what happened to the previous chapters. It’s like a series of moments.

Might include a chapter with their backstory in university and when they met again after many years when Dr. Song is introduced as the new addition to the trauma center team before I upload a series of chapter moments between them ><

I tried to keep Dr. Baek Kang-hyuk’s character as similar and accurate as I can, but you know what, 🎀 I’m just a girl 🎀 who wants to see him be a little clumsy and shy around his (secret) crush. So if it’s a little inaccurate or if you think it’s out of character, then I’m so sorry asdfsghjkg ;—; but isn’t it fun to imagine the cool (sexy) hot-tempered doctor become a fool in love for someone? Like a total loser. Frankly it’s my favorite character trope. He’s all mean and scowly with other people, and then he absolutely melts and malfunctions when a beautiful, strong, and intelligent woman (a.k.a his long-time crush) comes near him.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!!🥹 I’ve already written A LOT of random chapters. And I might also include a little bit of nsfw, or maybe just suggestive, IDK I have no experience in writing sensual scenes, I feel like it’s gonna sound cringey when I do it wish me luck🥲👍🏻

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Chapter List:

1.1 Early Symptoms of Trouble 1.2 Side Effects May Include... 1.3 Cardiac Complications

Flashback 1: Brief Encounters at Med School Flashback 2: Reunion in the Trauma Bay Flashback 3: Check His Vitals— She's Back

2.1 Diagnosis - Obvious 2.2 Late Night Consultations - Catching Up

3.1 A Prescription for Lunch 3.2 White Coats & Warm Blankets

4.1 The Mom & Dad of the Trauma Center 4.2 Code Blue - Parental Unit 4.3 When Dr. Dad Noticed 4.4 When Dr. Mom Noticed

JU JI HOON / 주지훈 Marie Claire Korea, Dec. 2024

bro

UNSPOKEN (말하지 않은)

genre: romance, slow-burn, fluff, angst, sexual tension, mutual pining

Chapter 10: A Worry He Couldn’t Name

As Haein pushes through her busy days quiet symptoms begin to surface—headaches, dizziness, and fatigue she brushes off. But Chaewoon notices it all, his silent concern growing. But as the days pass, it becomes harder for either of them to pretend nothing’s wrong.

Haein leaned back in her chair, brows furrowed, as she stared at Chaewoon through the glass walls of her office. She had been noticing it lately—how he was being extra attentive toward her.

Chaewoon had always been different from other bodyguards. He wasn’t just the silent, stoic type standing at a distance. He went above and beyond, a quiet presence who handled everything before she even thought to ask.

And she didn’t mind it.

In fact, she had gotten used to it—the way he was always there, the silent acts of service, the gentleness laced into his actions and words. She had grown so accustomed to him that sometimes, she forgot to notice how much she relied on his presence.

But lately… something was different.

It started one afternoon.

She had been getting headaches for days—nothing serious, she thought. Just the usual stress. She would pop a pill, drink some water, and move on with her day.

But Chaewoon had begun hovering more than necessary.

When her throat went dry during a meeting and she coughed lightly, he was at her side almost instantly, a glass of water in hand.

“Are you alright? Should I call someone to check on you?” he whispered, concern etched into his face. Haein waved him off. “…My throat was just dry. Calm down.”

Another time, during rounds at Queen’s Department Store, she misstepped slightly on the escalator. Chaewoon immediately caught her arm, steadying her before she could fall.

“The whole point of an escalator is so you don’t have to walk,” he muttered with a tsk, examining her feet briefly. “Everyone walks on escalators,” Haein scoffed.

“But you’re wearing high heels,” he said, exasperated. “Please be more careful.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re getting annoying, you know that?”

And just yesterday, as she sat reviewing documents, her fingers absentmindedly pressing against her forehead, she hadn’t even noticed him approach until he was standing beside her table—with food in hand.

“You haven’t eaten yet,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m not hungry,” she replied without looking up.

“Your head’s going to hurt again if you keep starving yourself,” he said softly, lowering the paper she was reading and placing the neatly packed food in front of her. “Please eat.”

But, there was a reason why Chaewoon had been acting this way lately.

Chaewoon had always been observant. He was quick to notice the smallest changes—the slight shifts in a person’s behavior, the quiet signals that something was wrong. And he didn’t fail to notice the changes happening to Hong Haein.

It started one afternoon.

Chaewoon stood just right outside the door, his eyes scanning the quiet office as Haein worked, her sharp focus on the documents before her. But as he watched her, a subtle unease began to creep into him. The usual quick movements of her hands were slower now. The focus in her eyes, once unshakeable, had become distant at times.

She reached for a pen to sign a document, but it slipped from her fingers, landing on the floor with a soft clatter. Haein frowned, blinking as if trying to shake off a sudden dizziness.

“Miss Haein?” Chaewoon’s voice was soft but laced with concern. She looked up, her expression briefly vacant before it cleared.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, her tone clipped as usual, but there was a hint of something off in the way she said it. A sharpness that had once been there now seemed worn, frayed around the edges.

Chaewoon stood, walking over to her desk. “You’re not fine.” He picked up the pen she’d dropped and handed it to her, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment. Haein didn’t seem to notice, her hand shaky as she grasped the pen.

“It’s just the headaches.” She replied, he wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him, or herself.

But it wasn’t just this one moment.

Chaewoon had seen it before—the slight hesitation in her steps, the way her confident stride would falter for half a second, as if her body momentarily forgot how to move. At first, he brushed it off, thinking she was merely lost in thought. But it kept happening. Again and again.

And so, he couldn’t help it—he found himself watching her more closely, worrying about her with every step she took.

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One night, as Chaewoon escorted her back to the mansion, he noticed it again. Her hand, clutching her bag, trembled ever so slightly. Her steps were slower than usual, and her forehead had been pressed lightly all day, as if she were trying to soothe a growing ache.

Without a word, Chaewoon swiftly took the bag from her hands and gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, grounding her.

“Are you alright?” His voice was laced with quiet concern.

Haein sighed, “Can you stop doing that?”

Chaewoon blinked in surprise. “Doing what?”

“Being dramatic,” she muttered, though there was no real anger in her tone, just a tired edge to it.

“I’m really fine, Mr. Woo. I’ve just been tired lately. You can stop worrying now.” She snatched the bag from him and walked off without looking back.

“I understand,” Chaewoon said softly, though the words didn’t quite settle in her chest.

When Haein reached her room, she immediately regretted her harsh response. She hadn’t meant to push him away like that, but she hated feeling vulnerable in front of him.

She sank down on the edge of her bed, her head heavy with more than just fatigue.

If she was honest with herself, something didn’t feel right. Her headaches had become constant, her memory slipping more often than not, and sometimes, her vision blurred as if she were seeing through a fog.

It only added to her growing frustration, and she didn’t want to take it out on Chaewoon—especially when she knew he was just trying to help. But the truth was, his concern was starting to wear on her.

Why is he so concerned anyway? What am I to him?

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It was a busy morning for Hong Haein. News had arrived that the Director of Hycerna would be visiting Korea and attending the 20th Investors Gala the following week. Haein had long been working to secure a deal to bring Hycerna to Queen’s Department Store—and she wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

Determined, she spent the morning clearing her schedule and strategizing how best to convince Mr. Hermann to sign with Queen’s.

Meanwhile, Chaewoon stood outside her closet room, mildly concerned as he listened to the thuds of shoes and the rustling of clothes being thrown onto the floor.

A moment later, Haein emerged from the chaos, two dresses held up on hangers.

“Choose. Both are limited edition from Hycerna. Which one will make a better impression?” she asked, slightly breathless.

“You’re asking for my opinion?” Chaewoon blinked.

“I’m in a dilemma, obviously. I need a second opinion,” she said, thrusting the dresses forward.

Chaewoon narrowed his eyes. To him, the two dresses looked almost identical—but he wisely kept that thought to himself, he knew Haein would glare at him if he said that.

“I think both dresses would look beautiful on you,” he said, making Haein blink in surprise.

“But,” he continued thoughtfully, “if you want to make a strong first impression as a serious businesswoman, I’d go with the one on the left. The one on the right feels more like you’re hosting a party.”

Haein stared at him, momentarily caught off guard. She hadn’t expected him to actually take the question seriously, much less give such a thoughtful answer.

And to her own surprise, she found herself appreciating it.

“Thanks. Are you usually this good with women’s clothes?” Haein asked, disappearing into the closet with the dress in hand.

Chaewoon chuckled, leaning back against the doorframe. “Let’s just say having an older sister gave me plenty of training. You wouldn’t believe how many outfit decisions I had to make for her growing up.” He smiled at the memory of him when he was young, held hostage by his older sister as she shoved different clothes in front him.

Haein smiled at the thought, sliding into the dress. “Sounds like you two are close.”

“Yeah, we are,” he said, a fond look passing over his face. “Our parents were always working, so she basically played the role of a second mom. She nagged the hell out of me, we bickered constantly—but she always had my back. I’ll always be grateful for her.”

Inside the closet, Haein paused, touched by how warmly he spoke about his sister. “Where is she now? Does she live overseas?” She asked, recalling the picture she saw on his account before. It looked like it was taken at another country.

Chaewoon nodded. “Yeah. They moved Germany for her daughter’s medical treatment.”

Chaewoon’s voice softened slightly, the usual playfulness giving way to something quieter. “My niece was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune condition. Treatment options here were limited, but there’s a specialist in Berlin. They’ve been there for almost two years now.”

Haein, still behind the door, stilled at the weight of his words. “That must’ve been hard… for all of you.”

“It was,” he admitted. “But they’re doing okay now. My niece is responding well to the treatment. She’s a tough little kid.”

There was a small pause, only the sound of fabric shifting as Haein adjusted the dress. Then, her voice came, gentler than before. “You really care about your family.”

Chaewoon huffed a short laugh. “Of course. I owe a lot to them.” Then, trying to lighten the mood, he added, “Though I’m still salty about being her fashion guinea pig for all those years.”

The door creaked slightly as Haein peeked out, one hand gripping the frame. “Well, all that trauma paid off. This dress fits perfectly.”

When Haein finally stepped out of her closet, Chaewoon looked up—and froze for just a moment.

Haein stood there, the soft lighting catching the subtle shimmer of the fabric. The color complimented her skin tone, the cut elegant but simple. She looked both graceful and strong.

“Well?” she asked, casually adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. “How do I look?”

Chaewoon stood there, his eyes glued to her. “You… look nice.”

Haein raised an eyebrow. “That all you got, Mr. Former Fashion Consultant?”

Chaewoon stepped forward without a word and smoothed the cuffs for her, his touch careful.

“You look beautiful, Miss Haein,” he said softly.

She stilled.

He had said that word before—beautiful. A compliment she’d heard countless times, from countless people. It never meant much. But somehow, when he said it, it landed differently. Quiet. Sincere. Almost reverent.

She cleared her throat, composing herself. “I always do.”

Chaewoon smiled faintly, as if he’d been waiting for that exact answer. He let her go, but not without one last glance.

Haein turned toward the full-length mirror in her room, adjusting the hem of her blouse. But just as she took a step, her vision blurred, and her legs wavered slightly beneath her.

Chaewoon instinctively moved forward, his hand twitching at his side, ready to steady her. But he stopped himself—just in time. He remembered her words from the other day, Can you stop doing that? Being dramatic.

So, he stayed rooted where he was, jaw tightening, his eyes following her every movement. He didn’t want to upset her again. Didn’t want to make her feel like she was being treated like glass.

But to him, it wasn’t a small thing. Not anymore. Not when it had been happening more often lately—those brief moments when she’d falter, sway, or lose her breath just a beat too long.

Haein caught it—the way his body had tensed the moment she stumbled, the way his concern almost leapt forward again. He didn’t say anything. But he didn’t have to. She could feel it.

She didn’t actually mind Chaewoon’s quiet protectiveness. In truth, it warmed her more than she ever admitted. But today, she didn’t want to be the cause of that look on his face again. The one that hovered between worry and restraint.

Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was something softer, harder to name.

Because the truth was, she liked the way he made her feel—safe, seen. Around him, she could let her guard down. She could look tired, be tired, and not feel ashamed. He never asked her to be anything more than herself.

But the more time they spent together, the more she felt it—that ache in her chest every time she caught him quietly watching her like she might disappear.

And that…

That was the part that scared her.

< Chapter 9 Chapter 11 >

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taglist: @lvnat1c @strangerinthesecretforest <3

Oh my godddddddd Ju Jihoon. Imagine existing with a face like that. Yes even his little eye, it is so charming, fuck me uppppppppppp

Hi everyone! Will start uploading chapters this week! Does anyone want to be included in the taglist? ><

UNSPOKEN (말하지 않은)

genre: romance, slow-burn, fluff, angst, sexual tension, mutual pining

CHAPTER 1: A Thorn in Her Side

When Chairman Hong assigns Woo Chaewoon to his granddaughter, Hong Haein, she resents the intrusion. Cold, stubborn, and fiercely independent, she refuses to make his job easy—but Chaewoon isn’t the type to back down.

Woo Chaewoon had been many things—a soldier, a strategist, a ghost in the field. Before stepping into the polished halls of Queens Group, he had served in the 707th Special Mission Group, one of South Korea’s most elite special forces. His skills in infiltration, combat, and intelligence had caught the attention of the National Intelligence Service (NIS), who had recruited him for black ops and undercover missions.

His missions had taken him across borders, through warzones, and deep into enemy lines where failure meant death. He had extracted high-value targets, dismantled covert operations, and played the part of both ally and enemy. Every mission had been precise, every target a calculated move.

Now, he was here. Playing the role of a bodyguard.

His real mission? Gain Chairman Hong’s trust and uncover the secrets buried beneath Queens Group.

But then, without warning, the chairman had reassigned him. “You’ll be watching over Haein now,” the old man had said with an air of finality. “Be her shadow.”

Chaewoon had not questioned it, but he understood what it meant.

And that made her his problem to solve.

Hong Haein was the granddaughter of Chairman Hong and the woman currently managing Queens Department, one of the company’s most profitable divisions. She had built a reputation for being ruthless in business—uncompromising, meticulous, and cold. Every decision she made was calculated, every word spoken with precision.

People whispered about her, called her the ‘Ice Queen’ of Queens Group. But Chaewoon knew better than to take surface impressions at face value.

Chairman Hong was watching her closely, too. Not just as a granddaughter, but as a successor. And if he thought she needed a bodyguard, it meant only one thing—she was in danger.

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The moment Hong Haein walked into the room, Woo Chaewoon knew exactly what kind of person she was.

Cold. Composed. Untouchable.

She was dressed in an elegant white suit, her heels clicking against the marble floor with a practiced grace. She barely acknowledged anyone in the room—until her grandfather gestured toward him.

“This is Woo Chaewoon,” Chairman Hong announced. “Your new bodyguard.”

Haein stopped mid-step. Slowly, she turned to face him, her gaze sharp, assessing.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” she said flatly.

Chaewoon didn’t react, keeping his posture straight, expression unreadable. He had expected this.

Her grandfather sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew this was going to be difficult. “Haein, this isn’t up for discussion.”

And he did. Better than anyone. Haein despised having people constantly around her. She kept only one secretary, ensured the house staff entered her space only when she was away, and already considered having a personal driver an unnecessary imposition. She had tolerated bodyguards before, but the suffocating presence of someone monitoring her every move, reporting back to her grandfather and parents, shadowing her day and night—it exhausted her. She hated it.

Haein scoffed; arms crossed. “Why? Do you think I can’t handle myself?”

Her grandfather sighed, rubbing his temple. “This isn’t about capability. It’s about precaution.”

“I don’t need a watchdog,” she said, frustration edging her voice. “I’ve been running the department without anyone breathing down my neck. Why change things now?”

Chairman Hong’s gaze sharpened. “Because the higher you climb, the more enemies you make.” He leaned forward, voice quieter but heavier. “And you, Haein, are being watched.” She stilled, her jaw tightening. “By who?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t need him shadowing you,” he said simply, gesturing to Woo Chaewoon, who stood silently in the background. “You may not see the threats, but I do. And I won’t wait until it’s too late.”

Haein exhaled sharply, glancing away. She hated this. Hated the feeling of being controlled. “This is unnecessary.”

Her grandfather shook his head. “No. It’s inevitable.” Then, after a pause, he softened. “Just let him do his job, Haein. That’s all I ask.”

Haein realized there was no way to argue her way out of this. Her grandfather was unwavering, his usual air of patience replaced by something far more resolute. She knew that look—it meant the decision was final. She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to remain composed. “Fine then,” she said, her voice laced with quiet defiance. “Let’s see how long he lasts.”

With one last glance at Chaewoon—sharp, assessing, unimpressed—she turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

Chaewoon inclined his head in a respectful bow to Chairman Hong before following after her. The moment he stepped outside, he was met with Haein’s cold, piercing stare. She had stopped just a few steps ahead, arms crossed, waiting for him.

“Report to my grandfather if you want,” she said, voice cool and clipped. “But don’t expect me to make your job easy.”

Chaewoon remained unshaken. “I will be just right behind you, Miss Haein.”

Her jaw tightened at his unwavering response. Her eyes narrowed, irritation flickering beneath the surface. “Fine. If you insist on following me around, at least make yourself invisible.”

Chaewoon met her gaze, calm and detached. “Noted.”

She turned away, unwilling to waste another breath on him. But as he fell into step behind her, silent and unyielding, a thought crossed her mind—he was different. And that, somehow, made him even more infuriating.

She hated him already. Not because he was assigned to watch over her, but because he was unreadable, unfazed. Most men either cowered under her glare or tried too hard to impress her. Woo Chaewoon did neither.

And that annoyed her.

Chaewoon, on the other hand, was already analyzing her—the sharpness in her movements, the subtle tension in her shoulders, the careful way she controlled every aspect of her presence. She was difficult, yes, but not unpredictable. She was used to command, used to distance, used to ensuring no one got too close.

He wasn’t here to befriend her. He wasn’t here to earn her approval. He wasn’t here to be liked. And that made his job easier.

But as she turned on her heel and walked off without another glance, he had a sinking feeling—Hong Haein would be more than just a job. She was going to be a problem.

A beautiful, dangerous problem. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I know I said I'll upload on Monday and now it's Tuesday night I'm so sorry adfaghjfdsg I already had 4 chapters written but I had a hard time trying to refine the first chapter before I upload it. And also life has been trying to kill me lately so expect some inconsistent uploads :') This first chapter is also kinda boring Im so sorry for that but I promise the next chapters will be better (I hope) aaaaghjdffn Also! I tried my best to provide more background info because I'm setting it up in QOT's world, and I was rewatching it recently to see if I can use any scenes or characters for this story. For Chaewoon's character, I'm keeping it the same as from the show, a former soldier who became an undercover spy bodyguard BUT!! I'm trying to write more about his motive for accepting this mission, and also the "villains" in this story.

But then again, for some reason, I just want to scratch the "lore" and just focus on chaewoon and haein lmaooaghjf I'm so lazy for world and plot building As you can see from this "author's note" alone my mind is a mess please pray I'm able to finish this story in peace. Thank you so much for waiting🥹 Please let me know your thoughts!

Inception & Deja Vu (parallels🖤)

I know you get deja vu 🥀

Ruin Me, Ruin You

Baek Kang-hyuk X Song Hae-rin (OC/fem!reader)

Genre: smut, little to no plot (plot what plot? never heard of her lol)

Word Count: 2,015 words

Summary: A bet between Dr. Baek Kang-hyuk and Dr Song Hae-rin escalates into something much more than just office banter. WARNINGS/CONTAINS: 18+ NSFW CONTENT (MDNI), dom!kang-hyuk, sub!reader, edging, orgasm denial, little overstimulation, cream pie(let's assume she has an IUD and pack it up), unprotected vaginal penetration (wrap it before you tap it, folks).

A/N: I am nothing if not a slut for men double my age :D. also, the serious lack of content about this man on this site, sfw and nsfw alike, is hurting my soul on a cosmic level. so here I come to the rescue <3 (apologies for any errors, English isn't my first language.)

P.S.: I know in about two months (or less) I will come back to this and have an astronomical cringeout over the fact that my first EVER fic is literal PORN, but we are not on that bridge just yet. we'll cross it when we get there :"D

stupid fucking bet.

The words swirled around Hae-rin's clouded head as Kang-hyuk drove into her abused cunt at a slow and antagonizing pace.

bastard. scheming son of a bitch.

how did she end up here?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dumb bet was about "the first to lose their temper in the next 48 hours.", classic office shenanigans. Less than 24 hours in, her coffee machine in her office was gone, later found in her wall cabinet. She didn't react. Not even when her meticulously organized case reports and case studies happened to grow a pair of legs and get mixed up, 'all by themselves'.

But she wasn't above those petty antics either. She swapped his black coffee with Nurse Seo-hwa's Nurse Seo-hwa's syrupy sweet latte— watching from afar as his face fell on the very first chug. Her kimchi-jjigae 'accidentally' got dumped on his pristine white shirt, right before a conference.

The rest of the team? Unfazed. They’d witnessed their ridiculous antics far too many times to be surprised by any of it.

But then came the email.

Kang-hyuk had authority that she didn't— and he wasn’t above using it to win this ridiculous bet. The email informed the team about the delegation of a complex orthopedic case to Choi Min-jun, instead of her. She stormed into his office with a furry of a hundred suns to rip him a new one.

And rip him a new one, she did. Only to discover the truth—the email had been sent to her alone. Nobody else.

Thirty-four hours. That’s all it took. Bet thoroughly lost.

After he reassured her that the email had only been sent to her and not the whole team, she huffed and asked, "What do you want?"

But to her great dismay, the smug bastard didn’t want anything… yet. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, that infuriating smirk firmly in place, and said, "Patience is a virtue. I’ll cash in when the time is right."

That was two weeks ago.

Now, at 2 a.m., Hae-rin found herself standing in front of his apartment door, knocking.

He had just returned from an international case, as a favor for the health minister, and his official joining was still three days away. But she needed to read that case study he had mentioned, or else her brain would absolutely kill her with all the overthinking.

Good thing they were next-door neighbors.

The next thing she knew, they were fighting—arguing over the case, over medical theories, over every damned thing they always fought about. Words sharpened into knives, logic be dammed, and somewhere in between, they lost track of whether they were debating or challenging each other in ways that had nothing to do with medicine.

Then something snapped. In seconds they were on each other—lips clashing, hands grabbing; later a tangled mess of limbs on his king-sized bed. Chest flush against the other, sweat covering their bodies.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hae-rin‘s body shook under the pressure of Kang-hyuk’s larger frame, fingers and nails digging into his back and shoulders, her hair sticking to her face with a mix of sweat and tears. She was sure she looked a total mess. God, if someone saw her like this, that too under him, of all men on planet Earth—career down the fuckin’ drain.

It all felt too hot, too tight—too much. Her thighs trembled under the sluggish assault of his hips, every movement winding the tension in her stomach tighter and tighter, like a coil ready to snap. The lines between pain and pleasure blurred so completely that nothing made sense anymore.

His thrusts became harder, pushing her to the edge of insanity, every movement measured and deliberate. “You lost the bet, and you know I’m a man of my word,” he muttered against her ear, his voice low and thick with satisfaction. “This—” he punctuated his words with a slow, deep thrust, “—is my prize.”

“You are absolutely insufferable,” she choked out between uneven breaths.

“I swear to God, Baek, you have to be the most maddening, egotistical—” Her words fractured into a sharp gasp as he thrust particularly deep and then stilled, silencing whatever insult she was about to hurl his way.

“Want me to stop, then?” he murmured, halting completely. This instantly elicited a flurry of curses from her beautiful mouth.

“Look at that face,” he taunted after a sudden, sharp thrust, amusement laced in his voice. “Where’d all that attitude go?”

Her eyes rolled back, a choked gasp escaping her lips as her nails raked harder against his skin. Kang-hyuk hissed in her ear at the sharp sting, but his movements didn’t soften.

Her body was betraying her in the worst way possible, and she hated it. Hated that she could barely keep her eyes open, hated the way she couldn’t stop shaking, the way her legs had long since lost their strength.

She whined under him, begging for release. But Baek Kang-hyuk was never an easy man. He was cruel, with a big dick and an even bigger ego. His favorite pastime was toying with people and watching them crumble.

And her? She was his favorite plaything.

He had always thought about how he’d make her pay for all the times they fought tooth and nail, and what greater opportunity than this?

Her. Vulnerable and bare beneath him, body snug against his.

The bet was just a front. He wanted to torment her just as much as she had.

But control was a losing battle in this game for two. It slipped away like sand between his fingers.

Feeling her soft, all-too-warm body press against his own turned his mind into hot mush, every twitch and tug setting his nerves on fire. His eyes drank in every expression of her reddened face, and his ears memorized every broken gasp and moan from her lips.

But the real torment was his own—his cock, painfully swollen, trapped in the vice of her throbbing heat. Fucking hell. Every time he pushed in, he wanted to stay buried inside that tight, scorching heat. Her body clung to him like she needed him, like she was made just for him.

“Baek please—“ she attempted to lift her hips for more, but his sturdy hands on her hips pinned her down. 

“Please what?” he mushed, as his mouth sucked on the soft skin under her ear. “Use your words, Song.”

An almost unfamiliar whine escaped her lips, tears already forming from the denied pleasure.

He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing in her moans. Her lips looked swollen from the way she bit onto them to suppress the humiliating sounds leaving them.

He hadn’t kissed her once since he entered her.

And that pissed her off beyond belief.

“Fuck you…” she groaned. Mapping out his back with her nails.  

“You’re doing just that.” A lazy smirk spread across his face as he thrust into her—slow and hard—forcing a strangled cry from her throat. She arched more into his chest, her frustration palpable. His grip on her sides only grew stronger.

By now, her body should have been accustomed to his slow torture. But like most things unattained in this world by Song Hae-rin, her body didn’t cooperate with her logical brain.

Every time he thrust into her a little harder than before, her breath hitched, her brain went static, and her fingers scrambled against his skin.

Fuck him and his stupid stamina.

How long had it been going on? Too long.

His hips moved in methodical ways—calculated and cruel. He started slow, building her until she was hanging over the edge, only to drag her back down. It was painful, so agonizing. Unfortunately for her, he knew the tells of her body within the first few minutes of this endeavor.

Whenever she tugged at him—desperate to pull him closer, to bite into his neck, shoulder, arm—he knew she was near.

And that’s when he slowed down noticeably. It drove her absolutely mad. It drove her to tears.

She bit his shoulder hard, dragging her nails across his back in revenge—sure to leave marks. She called him every nasty name under the sun in her delirium, voice hoarse from overuse.

Hae-rin’s whines and moans were like narcotics shot straight into Kang-hyuk’s bloodstream. Her desperate pleas tightened every muscle of his body so painfully that his restraint ran low.

“Kang-hyuk, let me…please...” her words trailed off into thin air as her gasps and moans rang around the room. He froze.

Fuck.

Hae-rin never used his given name. Not outside the hospital. Not in the OR. Not in emergencies. Not even when they were in Iran a year ago, treating patients in a war zone. Not even when they shared their first kiss that started this whole mess a week ago.

Never.

The sound of his name on her lips, wrecked and breathless, hit him harder than a bullet ever could.

He groaned, deep and primal, as his grip on her tightened, his nails digging into her skin, surely leaving marks. His restraint snapped like a frayed wire.

His hand snaked around her throat, tilting her face up to meet his gaze, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“Say it again,” he rasped, voice low and dark.

Her brain was on autopilot with only one goal. She needed to come, or else she’d lose her mind.

“Kang-hyuk…please, let me come.” any sense of shame and pride that was hanging on had left her system completely by that very moment.   

Baek Kang-hyuk had spent his entire life mastering control.

On the battlefield? Control meant survival.

In the operating room? Control meant lives saved.

But here?

With her?

Control was just a goddamn game, and he had lost.

A guttural growl tore from his throat as he slammed into her, hard and mercilessly. Finally giving in to everything he’d been holding back. Her cry was a plea, and he answered it with every ounce of pent-up frustration and want he had for her.

His pace was relentless. His body caged her in, his hips snapping against hers with a force that made the bed shake. He buried himself inside her over and over, as if he could carve his name into her very bones.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, his voice dark and breathless, his forehead pressing against hers as he took in every shudder, every gasp, every twitch of her body. “Give it to me.”

And she did.

Hae-rin shattered, her body seizing beneath him as waves of pleasure wracked through her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her hands into his hair to ground herself even a bit. Her lips chanted his name over and over without ever making any sense of what she was saying.

But he wasn’t done with her.

Her walls clenched around him, a tight vice that had him seeing white. Instead of slowing, his pace barely faltered. He chased his own high, dragging her through the aftermath. Her body jerked and arched into his with overstimulation as he continued his merciless rhythm.

“Kang-hyuk—too much...” she sobbed, but her body betrayed her, still quivering and responding to every movement.

“Just a little more, baby,” he husked, his command over himself slipping entirely. His fingers tangled in her hair as he let himself drown in her. “You’re being so good for me.” 

His release hit him hard, groans ripping from his throat as he buried himself deep, his body trembling against hers.

For a long moment, there was nothing but their tattered breathing, stars and white swimming behind their closed eyelids. His forehead pressed against hers as he tried to steady himself, trying to piece back the fragments of his shattered control.

“I hate you...” she mumbled against his lips as they plastered against hers.

He let out a breathless chuckle. “Hmm, sure didn’t sound like it.”

Her half-lidded eyes came to full close, cheeks flushed, and her body still twitching with overstimulation. “Go to hell, Baek.”

He grinned, pressing a lingering kiss before murmuring against her lips, “Already there, sweetheart.”

Fuck him and his stupid bet.