"I Can't Stop"

Inception & Deja Vu (parallels🖤)

I know you get deja vu 🥀

Along With The Gods: The Two Worlds (2017-8)

Haewonmak & Deokchun doing high fives

w/ Haewonmak being a protective uncle

UNSPOKEN (말하지 않은)

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

CHAPTER 6: Curiosities

After a quiet moment of care, Haein and Chaewoon start to see each other differently. What began as simple concern turns into something more, leaving them both with questions they didn’t expect to ask.

The car’s engine hummed as he drove through the quiet city streets. His fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

He should’ve left right after. That was the plan. That had always been the plan.

He kept reminding himself—You were only doing your job.

Get her home. Make sure she’s safe. Report back. That was it. That’s all this was.

But it wasn’t, was it?

His mind drifted back to the moment, just minutes earlier. The soft weight of her in his arms as he carried her to her bed. The way her hair fell over her face, the warmth of her breath brushing against his collar. He remembered kneeling down, tucking her in with practiced, detached care. And then—

That tug.

So faint. So subtle. Yet it hit him like a bullet.

Her fingers, curled into his sleeve. Her voice, soft and sleepy. “…Stay.”

Chaewoon’s jaw clenched at the memory.

She hadn’t even been fully conscious. Didn’t know what she was asking. It wasn’t intentional. But it didn’t matter. Because something in him had responded anyway. Something dangerous.

He had hesitated. For the first time in a long time, he had hesitated.

He wasn’t supposed to do that. He wasn’t just a bodyguard. He wasn’t just a driver. He was a spy. A watcher in the dark. And now, not only was he reporting the Chairman’s words and movements—but hers too.

Every time she spoke, every time she looked too tired, too sad, too human—he was supposed to observe it, and file it away like evidence. Every word, every glance, every crack in her voice—he was expected to report all of it. But lately, he found himself leaving most of it out. Especially the parts where she was vulnerable. The parts that made her feel real. The parts that made him feel something.

That half-asleep voice calling him back. Those fingers clutching his jacket like he was her last lifeline.

That instinct inside him that wanted to sit by her side a little longer.

He told himself again, This is just a job. But it didn’t land like it used to.

Because for the first time, he didn’t want to detach.

He hadn’t wanted to let go. And that terrified him more than anything else.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as the streetlights passed overhead. He was in too deep.

And if he wasn’t careful, Haein wouldn’t be the only one left vulnerable.

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Hong Haein woke up feeling unusually well-rested. Which was strange, considering the last thing she remembered was reviewing reports in her office, fighting off sleep.

She sat up, blinking groggily. The familiar walls of her bedroom came into focus.

Wait.

Her room?

How—?

Her gaze shifted to the bedside table, where a neatly arranged breakfast tray sat next to a small packet of medicine.

And then she saw it.

A folded note.

She already knew who it was from before she even picked it up.

“Eat your breakfast. Drink your medicine.”

No greeting. No signature. Just straightforward and to the point—exactly how Woo Chaewoon always spoke to her.

Haein exhaled, a small, involuntary smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Typical.

But just as she reached for the cup of warm tea, a memory from the night before suddenly hit her.

—The feeling of strong arms lifting her.

—A quiet, steady presence beside her bed.

—The warmth of a jacket in her grasp.

—Her own voice, half-asleep, murmuring, “…Stay.”

Haein froze.

Oh. No.

Her stomach dropped as the realization sank in.

She slapped a hand over her face.

Please tell me that didn’t actually happen.

But it did.

And now she had to face him.

…Or, maybe she could just avoid him for the rest of the day. Possibly forever.

Yes. That sounded like a solid plan. Absolutely.

Haein had barely wrapped her mind around the idea of avoiding Chaewoon for the entire day when her phone buzzed.

Chaewoon: Are you awake?

She stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She could ignore him. Pretend she was still asleep. But knowing him, he’d just find a way to confirm it himself.

With a sigh, she typed back.

Haein: Yes.

His reply was instant.

Chaewoon: May I come in for a second?

Her breath hitched.

What? Here? Now?

She sat frozen for a few seconds, completely flustered. She could shut him down coldly, tell him she didn’t need anything. That would be the logical thing to do. The easy thing.

And yet, she hesitated.

Before she could decide, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Ma’am?” His voice was calm but firm. “Are you alright?”

She pressed her lips together, gripping the blanket on her lap. If I don’t answer, maybe he’ll just leave—

“I’m coming in.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait—”

The door opened.

Chaewoon stepped inside, scanning the room, and when his eyes landed on her—very much unharmed, sitting in bed still wearing her office clothes from yesterday—his tense shoulders relaxed.

Haein narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering, he took a few steps forward, holding up a small container.

She blinked. “What is that?”

“Ointment.”

“For?”

He nodded toward her feet. She followed his gaze—only then noticing the faint scratches along the sides.

Haein frowned. She must’ve gotten them from walking around in heels all day yesterday inside and outside the company. She remembered him insisting she rest her feet for a while, but she stubbornly refused. No wonder her feet now looked like that. She hadn’t even realized.

“You didn’t notice,” Chaewoon observed, setting the container on the bedside table.

“It’s nothing,” she muttered. “I don’t need that.”

He looked at her for a second, then knelt beside the bed, opening the container.

“I can apply it myself,” she said quickly.

“Please let me.”

The words were simple, quiet. But something in the way he said them made her pause.

She could argue, tell him it was unnecessary. But instead, she found herself sighing as she stretched out one foot, just slightly.

Chaewoon took it as permission.

His hands were steady, his touch careful as he smoothed the ointment over her skin. It was efficient—clinical, almost. But the warmth of his fingers lingered, and for some reason, it made her stomach feel strangely unsettled.

She stared down at him, at the way he focused on his task with quiet precision.

“…Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.

“Because you don’t take care of yourself,” he said simply, not looking up.

Her lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the blunt honesty.

For once, she didn’t have a sharp retort.

She just watched him, heart beating a little too loudly in her chest.

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Haein hadn’t meant to stare.

She really hadn’t.

But as Chaewoon carefully applied the ointment, she found herself noticing things she had never paid attention to before.

The way his brows furrowed ever so slightly, a flicker of disapproval at the sight of her scratched-up feet. The way his long fingers worked with precision, careful yet firm. The way his eyes blinked, just a bit slower, every time she flinched at the cool sting of the ointment.

She knew he was handsome. Of course, she did. A little too handsome, honestly. But she had never really looked at him before. Not like this.

And now, for some reason, she was seeing his face as if for the first time.

The sharp angles softened by the warm glow of the morning light. The contrast of his dark lashes against his skin. The way his lips pressed together in quiet concentration.

It was… distracting.

Too distracting.

Haein caught herself before she could stare any longer. But it was already too late.

Because just as she snapped out of it, Chaewoon glanced up—

And caught her staring.

Their eyes met.

A brief, fleeting second stretched into something much longer, something heavier.

Her throat went dry.

Immediately, she looked away, clearing her throat as if that could erase the moment. “Thank you,” she said quickly, voice a little too firm. “You can go now.”

Chaewoon, as always, didn’t react much. He simply nodded, closing the container and standing up.

But as he walked toward the door, Haein was very aware of the fact that her heart was beating just a little too fast.

And that was the most annoying part of all.

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Chaewoon was a spy. A professional. He had been trained to detect the subtlest of changes, the smallest of shifts in energy.

So of course, he noticed.

He noticed the way Haein’s gaze lingered on him a little too long. The way her breathing changed ever so slightly when his fingers brushed against her skin. The way she was staring—really staring—as if she was seeing him for the first time.

And the most frustrating part?

He felt it.

A warmth creeping up the back of his neck. The sudden self-awareness of his own hands, his posture. A flicker of something unfamiliar curling in his stomach.

He had faced interrogation, surveillance, and the world’s most dangerous criminals without so much as blinking. He had never been intimidated by anyone.

But under her gaze, for the first time—

He felt… shy.

It was ridiculous.

He willed himself to focus, to keep his hands steady as he finished applying the ointment. But when he finally looked up and met her eyes, something in his chest dropped.

And then—just as quickly—she snapped her head to the side, clearing her throat, hastily dismissing him.

Chaewoon almost—almost—smiled.

She had lost her composure first. That was something, at least.

He stood, giving a brief nod before stepping out of her room.

The moment the door shut behind him, he exhaled sharply. His pulse was annoyingly unsteady. His ears felt oddly warm.

He headed straight for the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, and downed it in one go. Then, setting the glass down, he wiped a hand over his forehead.

What the hell was that?

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Haein wanted to bury herself alive.

She had barely survived that embarrassing encounter with Chaewoon, and now, all she wanted to do was crawl back under the covers and pretend it never happened.

But then—

A familiar scent drifted toward her.

She blinked, glancing at the bedside table. Oh. Right. Breakfast.

Fine. She’d eat first. Then continue moping.

She picked up her spoon and took a bite.

…And immediately paused.

Something was different.

She took another bite, slower this time.

The taste was—better than usual. Which was strange, because their family chef was already excellent. But this? This had a warmth to it. A personal touch.

Had Chaewoon ordered it from somewhere?

She needed to know.

Still half-lost in her hunger thoughts, she grabbed her phone and sent a text.

Haein: Where did you get this breakfast?

It didn’t take long for him to reply.

Chaewoon: I made it.

Haein froze mid-chew.

He… cooked it?

She stared at the screen, then back at her food. Then back at the screen.

Woo Chaewoon—the man who barely spoke, who always had that unreadable expression, who moved like a human shadow—could cook?

Her curiosity flared, completely uninvited.

Since when? Where did he learn? Why is he good?

And then, a far more dangerous thought entered her mind.

Does he have a family?

She had never even considered it before. When he was first assigned to her, she had been too annoyed, too disinterested to care about his personal life. But now…

He was older than her. Ten years older.

Does he have a wife?

A girlfriend?

The idea of Chaewoon coming home to someone—someone waiting for him, cooking for him the way he cooked for her—made something twist uncomfortably in her chest.

Haein immediately shut the thought down.

She was being ridiculous.

She stabbed at her food, scowling.

She didn’t care.

…But somehow, she had to know.

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Chaewoon knew Haein had taken the day off. It was a sudden decision early that morning when she sent a quick text to her assistant, her personal driver, and him.

And he was already outside her room when he received the text, ointment in hand. He had to give it to her or atleast make sure she uses it. It was the only reason he had asked to come into her room earlier.

She was a workaholic—someone who rarely, if ever, took a break—so it had crossed his mind to wonder why. But at the same time, he was relieved. At least she knew how to rest.

Now, his job was simple. Stay close. Be there if she needed anything.

It was a quiet morning, until his phone buzzed. A text from Haein.

Haein: Where did you get this breakfast?

He blinked. His first thought: Is something wrong with it?

Chaewoon: I made it.

No reply.

A small crease formed between his brows.

Did she not like it? Did it taste bad?

He had made it without much thought, just going about his usual routine. And yet, now that she was actually eating it, he found himself oddly self-conscious.

Maybe he should have just let the family chef cook for her. Maybe—

His phone buzzed again. His eyes immediately darting to her text.

Haein: Thanks. I like it.

Chaewoon exhaled, a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

And before he could stop himself—

He smiled.

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Haein couldn’t stop thinking about it.

It was annoying.

How come she knew next to nothing about her own bodyguard?

Other than the obvious—tall, quiet, handsome, surprisingly good at cooking, and annoyingly considerate—she knew nothing.

She considered asking her grandfather, but immediately scrapped the idea. Knowing him, he’d probably bring it up to Chaewoon directly, and there was no way she was dealing with that level of embarrassment.

So instead, she pulled out her phone and messaged her secretary.

Haein: Give me anything you can find on Woo Chaewoon.

Secretary: Your bodyguard?

Haein: Yes.

Secretary: Shouldn’t you already know about him since he’s, you know… your bodyguard?

Haein: I wouldn’t be asking you if I did.

Her secretary, to their credit, didn’t ask any more questions.

Now all she had to do was wait. But sitting still wasn’t an option.

Maybe—just maybe—she could get some information out of him herself.

Casually. Subtly. Completely normal conversation.

She grabbed her laptop (so it looked like she was working) and stepped out into the garden. Where, as expected, Chaewoon was already positioned a few steps away, arms crossed, watching the surroundings.

She took a deep breath, calming the ridiculous nervous energy in her chest.

Alright, Woo Chaewoon. Let’s see what I can find out about you.

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Haein had a plan. Casually strike up a conversation with Chaewoon. You know, just to get a little information out of him. She was just a little curious after all. Just a little.

But it was easier said than done.

She tried forming natural conversation starters in her head, but it’s been 20 minutes since she went outside her room and pretended to look busy with her laptop in the garden.

Maybe she’d just wait whatever her secretary found out about him after all.

And then, a notification popped up on her laptop.

Finally.

Her secretary had sent a file and some links.

Nice.

But she couldn’t open them. Not yet. Not when Chaewoon was right there, just a few steps behind her.

Sure, he was far enough that he wouldn’t be able to read her screen, but still—she couldn’t risk it. She needed him gone, just for a few minutes.

So, in the most nonchalant voice she could muster, she said, “Can you bring me coffee? And maybe a few snacks.” She never ordered him around for simple things like this. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Chaewoon glanced at her, tilting his head slightly—almost as if questioning the odd request—but he nodded and left without a word.

As soon as he was gone, she opened everything.

First, the basics.

Birthday: December 10.

“Oh,” she murmured. “That’s in a few weeks.”

Then—

Military background. Marine Corps. 707th Special Mission Group.

Her brows lifted. A soldier? A high-ranking one, actually.

“How did he end up as a bodyguard?” she muttered to herself.

Unfortunately, there was nothing about his family. But—

A link to a social media profile. She clicked on it.

As expected, no posts. Not even a profile picture. Clearly just for business or minimal communication.

But then—

Tagged posts.

Bingo.

Most of them were group photos from training and work. Nothing too interesting.

Until—

Her eyes landed on one particular photo.

A woman. And a child.

Her fingers froze on the trackpad.

His wife? His daughter?

Her mind raced.

Before she could process the thought, someone cleared their throat.

Right behind her.

Shit.

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When Chaewoon first saw Haein step out of her room, he nearly did a double take.

Gone were the usual luxury clothes, the perfectly styled hair, and the sharp, intimidating makeup. Instead, she was in cozy attire—loose, comfortable clothes, her hair casually falling over her shoulders, her face bare of any enhancements.

It wasn’t a sight he was used to.

And oddly enough… he found her even prettier like this.

Of course, he already knew she was beautiful. He had met plenty of beautiful women in his life. But without any bias, he could say with certainty—Hong Haein was probably the most beautiful of all.

That thought alone made him mentally slap himself. What the hell am I thinking?

He quickly focused back on his job.

She was working, of course. Even on her day off. But something was different. She was restless. She kept glancing at her phone. Checking her laptop inbox. Again, and again.

She’s waiting for something, he concluded.

Then—

“Can you bring me coffee? And maybe a few snacks?”

That made him pause. It wasn’t strange, exactly. But she had never asked him to do something so trivial before.

Had she finally warmed up to him? Enough to start giving him simple errands?

Without questioning it, he nodded and left. But when he returned—

He found her eyes glued to her laptop. And on her screen, his background information. He immediately understood.

So that’s what she was waiting for.

Amusement flickered in his eyes as he watched her scroll, intensely focused.

Then, when she landed on the photo—the one with the woman and the little girl—he noticed it.

Her brows furrowed.

The same way they always did when she was too focused… or irritated.

And she stared at it for a little too long.

Chaewoon couldn’t help but smile. He shook his head lightly.

Is this why she suddenly sent me to get snacks?

Somehow, he found it… oddly cute.

Finally, deciding to put an end to her “research,” he cleared his throat.

And immediately, she froze in place.

If he had less self-control, he would’ve teased her about it. Or maybe let out a chuckle.

But if he wanted to keep his head intact, it was probably best not to.

< Chapter 5 Chapter 7 >

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Okay!! My favorite part was actually supposed to be included here in this chapter but I realized it was getting too long so I had to cut it into two parts >< working on Chapter 7 right now!! This is where I was actually cheesing the entire time I was writing this story.

taglist: @lvnat1c @strangerinthesecretforest <3

Trauma Code: A Hero in Love

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

4.3: When Dr. Dad Noticed

It started with strange looks.

Not bad ones—just the kind that lingered a little too long. A few smirks exchanged between residents when he walked by. Some whispering that would immediately halt the moment he turned around.

Kanghyuk had brushed it off at first. Probably gossip about some intern or the new protocol changes. The usual hospital noise.

Until one afternoon, as he was reviewing post-op notes, he overheard Jangmi and Jaewon chatting outside the staff lounge.

“Mom and Dad are fighting again,” Jaewon whispered dramatically.

“No, this is more like playful bickering. If they were actually fighting, Dr. Song would’ve snatched his chart and told him to sit in a corner,” Jangmi replied, stifling a laugh.

Kanghyuk’s eyes narrowed.

He stepped out casually, voice calm. “Who’s mom and dad?”

The two of them froze. Jaewon straightened like he’d been caught stealing supplies.

Jangmi cleared her throat. “Uh… just… like a trauma department nickname. You know. Uh… it’s just a thing.”

Kanghyuk raised a brow. “Right. And I’m assuming I’m ‘dad’?”

Jangmi nodded slowly, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “And Dr. Song’s mom. It’s a… vibe.”

Kanghyuk blinked. “A vibe.”

“Yeah. You’re the scary, protective one who yells a lot, and she’s the calm, sweet one who fixes everything. Balance.”

Jaewon jumped in, trying to soften the blow. “But in, like, a power couple way.”

“I’m going back to work,” Kanghyuk muttered, turning away, but not fast enough to hide the faintest hint of red creeping up his neck.

Later that day, he passed by the nurses’ station and caught sight of a doodle someone had left on the whiteboard: a stick figure version of him with angry scribbles for eyebrows, standing beside a smiling one labeled “Dr. Song.” Above them? “TRUAMA MOM & DAD.”

He stared at it for a beat.

Then, with a deadpan expression, he erased it with the back of his hand.

“Grow up,” he muttered under his breath—but the corner of his lips betrayed the tiniest twitch.

Back in the hallway, Jangmi whispered to Jaewon, “He didn’t deny it.”

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Trauma Code: A Hero in Love - Chapter List

behold the ✨ abs trilogy ✨

also known as the fever series😂

First Love - Ju Jihoon x Song Jihyo

genre: second-chance romance, angst, fluff, slow-burn, mutual pinning

Introduction Chapter

The first time Ju Jihoon met Song Jihyo, she was standing by the director’s chair, flipping through her script with a focused gaze. It was 2005, and they were about to begin filming Princess Hours. He had never acted before, and she had only been in a few projects, but something about her made him want to do his best.

They were just co-stars at first—running lines, sharing meals on set, laughing at their own mistakes. But as weeks turned into months, and the love story of their characters unfolded on screen, something real sparked between them. Jihoon found himself drawn to Jihyo’s warmth, her easy laughter, the way she never let the long hours get to her. Jihyo, in turn, admired Jihoon’s quiet determination, his playful but protective nature, the way he made even the most tiring days feel fun.

By the time Princess Hours wrapped, they weren’t just acting anymore. They were in love.

For three years, they were inseparable. They went on late-night drives, whispered secrets in quiet cafes, and stole moments together away from the public eye. It was a love that felt endless—until it wasn’t.

Their careers skyrocketed. The pressure mounted. The scandals, the misunderstandings, the weight of their growing responsibilities—it all became too much. And so, one evening, after a long and painful conversation, they let go.

And they never spoke again.

Years passed, but some memories refused to fade.

Jihyo, surrounded by friends over drinks, would smile softly as she recalled her first love. “We were hanging out, and I fell asleep. He then woke me up and took me to the room next door, which was completely filled with balloons. He had planned it all beforehand to surprise me. I was really moved.”

One time, in an interview, when she met a young idol born in 2009, she jokingly blurted, "If my first love did not fail, I might've had a daughter your age by now."

Jihoon, in turn, would catch glimpses of her everywhere. One night when drinking with friends, he suddenly muttered, “Maybe it’s because I’m drunk, but I have been thinking about it for a while, my heart aches, because you look like my ex-girlfriend.” He’d laugh it off and push the thoughts away, but they lingered, like a song he couldn’t forget.

One time, in an interview, he was given a choice: “Memories are just memories” or “Meet your first love again”?

He hesitated. Then, with a small smile, he answered, “If the opportunity arises and the situation allows, I will meet her.”

Years later, the opportunity came.

It was at an industry event, a quiet gathering of actors, directors, and old friends. Jihoon had just stepped outside for air when he saw her.

Jihyo.

She was older now, but still beautiful, still radiant. Her eyes widened when she noticed him, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

“…It’s been a long time,” Jihoon finally said, his voice quieter than he expected.

Jihyo nodded. “It has.”

A silence stretched between them—not uncomfortable, just full. Full of everything they had been, everything they had lost.

Then, she smiled. “Still standing awkwardly at parties, I see.”

Jihoon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “And you still talk first when I don’t know what to say.”

She laughed. And just like that, the years between them blurred.

Neither of them said it out loud, but they felt it. That pull. That warmth.

Some loves never truly leave.

And maybe, just maybe, some are meant to find their way back.

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Hi everyone! I’m super excited to finally share this story with you. I’ve been drafting it for a while now, and honestly… I might be a little too delusional about these two ;—;

Most of the story will be inspired by real interviews, and I’ll be linking them directly in the text (like some of the underlined/linked dialogues in this chapter), so feel free to check them out if you’re curious! Now, we’ll probably never know if they were actually referring to each other in those interviews—but hey, we’re allowed to assume, right? :')

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading! I’ll try my best to upload new chapters every weekend. (Although I might be inconsistent since I'm also trying to update my other stories; Unspoken and Trauma Code: A Hero in Love).

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Chapter List: (still in my drafts)

Chapter 1: An Old Memory of You Chapter 2: A Quiet Confession Chapter 3: Behind The Scenes Chapter 4: The Cherries Chapter 5: Just A Glimpse Chapter 6: The Apology That Never Came Chapter 7: The Question of Us

최산 gifs💜

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