Trauma Code: A Hero In Love

UNSPOKEN: Special Chapter 1

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

Special Chapter: Her Dress & His Necktie

As Chaewoon helps Haein button up her dress and Haein returns the favor by tying his necktie, what starts as a simple moment of assistance quickly turns into something a little intimate.

Quick Author's note:

Unspoken will be taking a little break for the time being. I wanted to upload a special chapter, this scene will be included in one of Unspoken’s future chapters. So, I hope no one is confused and thinks there was a time jump or anything haha as you read this chapter, you will see Eunsung’s name. And yes, I will also include his character in this story as one of the main antagonists (and for jealousy arch of course!)

Well, I hope you guys enjoy it! My hands are honestly itching to upload the rest of the chapters I have in store ;-:

taglist: @lvnat1c @strangerinthesecretforest <3

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

Inside her room, Haein had been struggling to button her dress for the past ten minutes.

“Come on,” she grunted, arms twisting awkwardly as she tried to reach the buttons running down her back.

Out of all the dresses in my closet… she thought with a sigh of frustration.

She hadn’t given it much thought when she picked it out. It was just another evening party, and her walk-in closet was practically overflowing with gowns. She had glanced at the elegant, navy-blue dress hanging near the door and decided, That one. Simple choice.

What she didn’t account for was the string of tiny pearl buttons that ran from the waist all the way up to the nape of her neck. It was the kind of dress that required help to wear—something Haein rarely asked for. She had staff, sure, but she was used to doing things on her own.

Still, there was someone outside who could help her.

Haein paused, cheeks warming at the thought.

There’s no way, she told herself.

But the clock was ticking, and no amount of twisting, turning, or silent pleading was going to get those buttons fastened.

With a resigned huff, she cracked open the door.

Standing in the hallway, ever composed and patiently waiting, was Chaewoon.

“…Mr. Woo?” she said, her voice quieter than usual. “I need to ask you a favor.”

“Yes?” His voice was gentle as he stepped toward her, brows lifting slightly in curiosity. When she didn’t continue, he tilted his head. “What can I help you with?”

Still standing half-hidden behind the door, Haein let out a small sigh, then slowly turned around—revealing the unfastened buttons trailing down her back.

Chaewoon blinked.

Haein looked beautiful as always. The deep navy dress hugged her figure with effortless grace, it’s color mirroring the evening sky. Soft curls framed her shoulders, and then— her bare back.

He wasn’t someone who gets easily flustered, but for a split second, something in his brain short-circuited.

Haein laughed awkwardly. “Looks like I picked the wrong dress. I didn’t realize I’d need a second pair of hands… If you could—um…”

Her words trailed off, her embarrassment palpable. Chaewoon stepped forward carefully, his fingers brushing the first button.

I’m her bodyguard. A professional, he reminded himself silently. But with each button he fastened, his composure slipped just a little more. Her skin was warm beneath his fingertips. The silence between them was thick, but not uncomfortable—just… charged.

He noticed the subtle way her shoulders rose and fell with each breath, the soft scent of her perfume lingering in the air. His fingers grazed her skin again, unintentionally, and he nearly forgot to breathe.

Across from him, Haein stood still, trying her best to appear composed. But she could feel everything—his touch, his breath near her neck, the closeness, the strange intimacy of it all. And what surprised her most was… she didn’t mind it.

Finally, with the last pearl button in place, Chaewoon let out a breath he did not realize he was holding.

“All done,” he said, his voice slightly lower than usual.

Haein turned to face him. “Thank you,” she said, a little too fast. “I’ll… make sure to return the favor.”

“There’s no need,” Chaewoon replied smoothly. “It was my pleasure to help.”

He was just about to step away when Haein reached into her room. “Oh, Mr. Woo—wait.”

She returned holding a small box. Opening it, she pulled out a necktie with a color that matches her dress.

“I thought… since you’ll be accompanying me tonight, we could…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, because Chaewoon was already smiling.

“If you still want to return the favor,” he said, his tone teasing now, “why don’t you tie it for me?”

Haein blinked, unsure whether to be relieved by his relaxed tone—or more nervous because of what he’d just asked.

Chaewoon on the other hand, had no idea why he suddenly blurted that out. For a moment, he wanted to slap himself, he expected her to scoff at him, maybe throw the necktie to him and say, “Tie it yourself.” He almost froze when Haein stepped closer.

She approached him slowly, tiptoeing as she looped the tie around his collar. “You’re annoyingly tall,” she muttered.

Chaewoon chuckled, he then adjusted his level, lowering his head a little. “Better?”

Haein blinked, her lips pursed. “I hope that’s not your way of teasing me for being short.” she said with a small glare, which he only responded to with another soft laugh. “I would never.”

As she focused on the tie, Haein found herself fumbling a little—his face was too close. Too steady.

His eyes flicked from her hands to her lips to her eyes again. And when she finally pulled the knot tight, their gazes locked.

“…Did I do it right?” she asked quietly.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Her hands were still lightly resting against his chest, his tie gripped loosely between her fingers. He was close. Too close. And neither of them seemed eager to step back.

Chaewoon’s thoughts were a blur. He was a highly trained soldier and spy. Self-control was easy for him. And yet in this moment, he felt his self-control slowly slipping away. He had been trained to remain calm in the tensest of situations. But this—this felt more dangerous than anything he’d faced before.

His mind was telling him to snap out of it, but he felt his own body betraying him, as he slowly moved closer, and closer to her.

His gaze fell to her lips.

And hers to his.

Their noses were nearly touching. A breath away.

And then—

Knock.

The sound at the door shattered the moment.

Chaewoon cleared his throat and straightened. Haein took a step back, smoothing down the front of her dress.

Just like that, the tension dissolved—almost.

But not forgotten.

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

When Haein stepped into the living room, she found Eunsung already waiting, dressed sharply and oozing confidence.

“Good evening, Haein. Ready to go?” he said, extending his arm with a charming smile.

She raised an eyebrow, one hand on her hip.

Eunsung chuckled, taking her expression as a question. “Didn’t your parents tell you? I’ll be your date for tonight’s party.”

Haein smirked. “Oh? Then I suppose they forgot to tell you something too—I already have a date.”

As if on cue, Chaewoon appeared behind her.

He looked nothing like the bodyguard everyone knew. Gone were his crisp white shirt and standard black coat. Tonight, he wore a tailored tuxedo and a sleek long coat, his navy-blue tie matching perfectly with Haein’s gown. His hair, usually neat and professional, was now styled just enough to give him that effortless bachelor charm.

Woo Chaewoon was always handsome—but tonight, he looked devastatingly dashing.

Haein’s smile widened, proud of the man beside her. She had styled him herself, and she made sure he would turn heads the moment they stepped into the venue.

She turned back to Eunsung, voice polite but edged with satisfaction. “We’ll be going now. See you at the party, Mr. Yoon.”

Without waiting for a reply, she slipped her arm through Chaewoon’s, pulling him along effortlessly. Completely unaware of the effect she had on him.

Chaewoon’s heartbeat quickened as she leaned slightly into him. Her perfume lingered between them. This was no ordinary assignment anymore.

He swallowed discreetly, as he lets himself be dragged away by Haein.

This was going to be a long night.

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

----> Unspoken Chapter List

Several ways Jung Woo calls Ji Hoon

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

Haewonmak & Deokchun doing high fives

w/ Haewonmak being a protective uncle

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.”

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

Trauma Code: A Hero in Love - Chapter List

Deja Vu

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.

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

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).

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

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

UNSPOKEN (말하지 않은)

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

Chapter 4: In His Care

Chaewoon’s protective instincts toward Haein become more apparent as he observes her every move with quiet care. His subtle gestures and watchful presence reveal a side of him that Haein begins to notice—one that goes beyond his role as a bodyguard.

It had been a week since Chaewoon became Haein’s bodyguard, and in that time, he’d already learned to read her like an open book. Watching her through the glass walls of her office, he could tell just by the way she furrowed her brows and gripped the paper tighter—something was bothering her.

Five, four, three, two, one... he counted in his head.

As expected, Haein’s sharp voice rang out, “What happened to decorating the personal shopper room like a gallery? The artist’s reputation and colors don’t suit the interior design.”

Chaewoon couldn’t help but smile. Yelling and glaring like that, she looks so mean.

But then, just as quickly, her expression shifted, a satisfied smile curling on her lips as she flipped to the next page. “Yes, this is what I was talking about.”

She looks excited, Chaewoon thought, still watching her every move.

The annoyed Haein from moments ago was gone, replaced by a woman pleased with what she saw. And just as Haein’s lips slightly curled up, Chaewoon’s own little smile started to falter. For a moment, time slowed down, and for some reason, he could not look away at her smiling face.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away and stare blankly at the opposite wall, as if that would shake the strange, unsettling feeling that had taken hold of him.

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

HAEIN'S POV

Hong Haein wasn’t used to people caring about her—not in the way Woo Chaewoon did.

Not that she would ever admit it.

But for a while now, she had stopped trying to shake him off. That didn’t mean she liked his presence, but she had accepted, begrudgingly, that he was annoyingly efficient at his job.

She just hadn’t expected him to be so… considerate.

1. The Elevator Incident

It started in the company lobby. Haein was walking ahead, clicking through emails on her phone, when the elevator doors opened. She stepped in without thinking.

Then, in a single swift motion, Chaewoon reached out, placed a firm hand on the small of her back, and pulled her back just as a man rushed out, nearly knocking into her.

She barely had time to react before she found herself standing inches from him, her back against his chest.

“Watch your step,” he murmured, his hand falling away the second the man passed.

Haein straightened, clearing her throat. “I had it under control.”

Chaewoon didn’t argue, simply stepping inside after her. “Of course, ma’am.”

She turned to glare at him, only to find the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.

Infuriating.

2. The Heels Problem

Later that day, she had back-to-back meetings, which meant strutting around the office in heels that looked good but felt like a medieval torture device.

By the time she stepped outside, her feet were killing her.

As they reached the car, Chaewoon—without a word—opened the door for her, then subtly adjusted the car mat so she could rest her feet more comfortably.

It was such a small gesture, so smooth, that she almost missed it.

She slid into the seat, watching as he walked around to the front. Inside the car was also a pair of soft comfy slippers that was not originally there.

Her jaw tightened. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be just another disposable bodyguard, a shadow she could ignore.

Then why was he making it so difficult?

3. The Rain

By the time they arrived at a charity gala that evening, it had started raining. Hard.

As usual, Chaewoon was the first to step out of the car. He retrieved an umbrella, opened her door, and held it above her.

Haein, exhausted and mildly annoyed at the world, reached for the umbrella.

“I can hold it myself.”

Chaewoon, as always, was unmoved. “That’s my job.”

She stepped out, expecting him to keep a respectable distance. Instead, he adjusted the umbrella so that she was completely covered—even if it meant part of his shoulder got drenched.

She noticed. And she hated that she noticed.

By the time they entered the building, she found herself stealing glances at his wet sleeve.

Chaewoon brought her a towel, his expression as calm as ever. She expected him to use it to dry himself off, but instead, he held it out to her.

She raised an eyebrow, about to refuse, when he paused for a brief moment. Then, with surprising grace, he knelt down in front of her, positioning the towel to wipe her shoes.

Oh, my shoes are wet.

The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning. Haein instinctively stepped back just as his hand was about to touch the leather.

“You don’t need to do that. You’re not my servant,” she said, her tone sharper than she intended. She cleared her throat, trying to regain some composure. “Wipe yourself instead. You’re drenched.”

She huffed, a bit embarrassed by the sudden awkwardness, and turned on her heel, walking briskly into the gala without looking back.

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

CHAEWOON'S POV

The Elevator

Woo Chaewoon was always quick on his feet. So, when Haein, her attention absorbed by her phone, failed to notice the man about to collide with her as the elevator doors opened, he reacted instinctively.

Chaewoon's reflexes kicked in without thinking. His hand moved swiftly to the small of her back, steadying her just as a man rushed out, too close for comfort.

For a brief moment, he felt her back tense against his chest as he pulled her away. The contact surprisingly electric, but he didn’t let it show. He barely heard her breath catch in her throat, but he noticed.

"Watch your step," he murmured quietly, making sure the man passed safely before letting his hand fall away from her back.

She straightened up quickly, her back stiff. He could feel the subtle shift in her posture as she composed herself.

“I had it under control,” she said, voice a little sharp, but he didn’t respond to the challenge in her tone.

Instead, he stepped into the elevator after her, keeping his face unreadable. “Of course, ma’am.”

She turned to glare at him, her eyes narrowing in irritation. But for just a moment, he caught the faintest flicker of something else there—amusement, maybe. It was gone too quickly for him to dwell on, but it made him smile to himself, just the slightest curve of his lips.

Infuriating. But somehow, she made it worth it.

2. The Heels

Chaewoon had learned to notice the small signs that Haein never acknowledged. He could see it in the way she walked—stiff, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as if she were fighting the discomfort that no one else seemed to notice. Her back straightened, her pace measured, but there was always that subtle shift in her posture after each long meeting. The heels, he knew, were not made for comfort. He also knew she would never be the type to wear flats outside.

So, when they reached the car after a long day, Chaewoon opened the door for her without a word, then quickly adjusted the car mat under her feet. It wasn’t much, just enough to give her a bit of relief, and he did it so smoothly that she almost didn’t catch it.

But she did.

As she slid into the car, he caught the slight wince in her face, then the subtle relief as she settled into the seat. Chaewoon walked around to the front, but when he opened the door to slide in, he saw her eyes lingering on the pair of slippers he had neatly placed inside for her.

Her gaze was confused, almost questioning.

It was an ordinary thing, a small act of care, but it was enough for him to see the slight stiffening in her jaw. He couldn’t help but wonder why she was so resistant to the simplest gestures. After all, he was only doing his job. But still, the thought lingered. She wasn’t supposed to be this difficult to ignore.

Yet, here she was, making it harder than it should be.

3. The Rain

Chaewoon didn’t expect her to notice. The rain had soaked through part of his sleeve, but it wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. He held the umbrella steady over her, making sure not a single drop touched her, while the cold slowly seeped into his own shoulder. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. It was his job.

But then, she looked.

It was quick, just a glance at his wet sleeve, but he caught it. The slight pause in her step, the way her gaze lingered a fraction too long before she looked away. She noticed. He wasn’t sure why that detail mattered, but for some reason, it did.

By the time they reached the entrance, she was back to her usual self—sharp, composed, untouchable. But Chaewoon had seen the flicker of something else. He returned with a towel, expecting her to take it without a second thought. Instead, she hesitated.

So he did what came naturally—knelt down in front of her.

Her shoes were wet. He had noticed, of course, just as he noticed the slight shift in her stance, the way she tensed the second she realized what he was about to do. Then, before he could even move, she stepped back.

“You don’t need to do that. You’re not my servant.” Her voice was clipped, but it wasn’t anger. It was something else—something that made her avert her gaze a second too late.

Chaewoon didn’t argue. He simply stood, towel still in hand, watching as she walked away quicker than usual, like she was trying to escape something.

As she walked further ahead, Chaewoon’s eyes followed her. His gaze lingered just a moment longer, catching the flush of her ears—redder than usual.

He wondered if it was the cold, or if it was something else entirely.

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

It was another busy day for Hong Haein, this time at Queen’s Department Store. She was making her way through the floors when a commotion near the cosmetics section caught her attention. A small crowd had gathered, murmuring among themselves as an angry man raised his voice at one of the employees.

At first, Haein didn’t interfere, simply observing from a distance.

The customer was demanding a refund for a product that was nearly used up. The employee, a young woman, remained professional, explaining that refunds weren’t possible once the product was almost empty. But the man wasn’t listening. Instead, he insisted—loudly—that his girlfriend’s skin had worsened because of it. A blatant lie. It was a common trick—buy, use, complain, and demand a refund.

But then, the situation escalated.

Frustrated by the refusal, the man swiped an arm across the counter, knocking over bottles and compacts. The sharp sound of breaking glass made the employee flinch.

“Do you think I’m some kind of joke?” His voice rose, and so did his hand.

Chaewoon, standing silently nearby, was already prepared to intervene. But before he could move, Haein was already stepping in.

She caught the man’s wrist mid-air, stopping his hand before it could strike the employee.

“And who the hell are you?!” he snapped, yanking his arm back. His face twisted in outrage, as if personally offended that a woman had dared to stop him.

Haein’s expression remained calm, her voice unwavering. “This is not a place for such behavior.”

The man scoffed. “Then bring me your CEO. I don’t have time for people like you.”

“You’re looking for me?”

His face faltered for a second before he recovered. “So you’re the CEO?” He sneered, folding his arms. “Figures. No wonder your employees are incompetent. Why did you not train your employee properly then!?”

“You’re right,” she said coolly. “Maybe I haven’t trained them properly.” She turned to the employee, glancing at the nametag. “Ms. Kim Minji?”

The young woman tensed, clearly expecting a reprimand.

Haein sighed and crossed her arms. “Your job is to deal with customers only. As for criminals, report them to the police immediately.”

The man’s face reddened. “Wow. A criminal? So now you’re insulting customers? The CEO of this mall looks down on people. We will sue you.”

Haein simply smiled. Behind her, Chaewoon observed the scene with quiet amusement.

“Please do,” she said lightly. “I’ll be suing as well.”

The man sputtered. “What did you just say?!”

His temper snapped. His hand moved again, this time toward Haein.

But before he could get close, a shadow loomed over him.

Chaewoon was already there.

His tall frame blocked the man completely, cutting off his path like an immovable wall. His movements were smooth, effortless, but his presence alone was enough to make the air feel heavier. In one swift motion, his hand wrapped around the man’s wrist—not rough, not violent, but firm. A controlled grip, precise and unyielding.

The shift in atmosphere was instant.

The man’s anger wavered, his bravado shrinking under the weight of Chaewoon’s presence. Up close, he could see the way Chaewoon carried himself—not just as an employee, not just as security, but as someone who was dangerous in all the ways that mattered. There was no unnecessary aggression in his stance, no tension in his shoulders, no wild anger in his eyes. Just cold, calculated control. The kind that made people second-guess their next move.

For the first time since the commotion started, the man hesitated.

Chaewoon’s grip didn’t tighten, but the unspoken message was clear: Don’t try it.

The man swallowed. His wrist, though not in pain, felt like it was caught in something unshakable. He looked around, as if realizing how quiet the crowd had gone, how the eyes that once watched in amusement were now filled with anticipation—waiting to see if he would be foolish enough to push further.

He wasn’t.

“You can be charged with obstruction of business, property damage, and attempted assault,” Chaewoon said evenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it didn’t need to be. It carried the kind of weight that made people listen.

Haein tilted her head, unfazed. “And I’ll add another lawsuit for the sales loss you caused.” She turned to the crowd. “Did you all get that on camera?”

A chorus of affirmations rose from the spectators, many holding up their phones, their screens still recording. A few even cheered.

The man looked around, suddenly realizing how outnumbered he was.

“Take them to the police,” Haein ordered as security finally arrived, stepping forward to apprehend him.

As the man was dragged away, Haein turned back to Chaewoon, a satisfied smile on her face. He met her gaze, his own expression unreadable.

She gave him a small nod. “Let’s go.”

Without another word, Chaewoon followed.

On their way back to the company, Haein found herself replaying the moment in her head.

It had happened so fast. One second, she was handling the situation as she always did—calm, composed, in control. The next, a hand had been raised in her direction, and before she could even react, a shadow had stepped in front of her.

Chaewoon.

Haein had barely registered the movement before he was there, his tall frame blocking her completely. The space that had once felt open was suddenly filled—broad shoulders, solid stance, the subtle shift of muscle beneath his suit.

She hadn’t been expecting it.

She had seen him be cautious before, seen the way he silently observed her surroundings. But this was different.

His hand had wrapped around the man’s wrist—not roughly, not aggressively, but with a kind of controlled force that left no room for argument.

She hadn’t seen his face at first, only the sharp line of his jaw from the side, the way his fingers flexed slightly as if calculating the exact amount of strength needed to hold back without breaking.

Then she had seen the change in the man’s expression. The way his anger faltered, the realization creeping in. He had thought he could intimidate her, but now he was faced with someone he couldn’t push, someone who didn’t even need to raise his voice to make his presence known.

“You can be charged with obstruction of business, property damage, and attempted assault,” Chaewoon had said, his voice low, even. It wasn’t loud, but it carried the kind of weight that made people listen.

Chaewoon didn’t move, his stance unwavering, his hand still gripping the man’s wrist as he watched him with cool detachment. And for the first time, Haein realized something.

For all the quiet patience she had seen in Woo Chaewoon, there was another side to him. A side that wouldn’t hesitate to shield her the moment someone dared to lay a hand on her.

And for reasons she couldn’t quite place, she found herself staring at him just a moment longer than necessary.

Gentle, quiet, patient Woo Chaewoon. You had this side to you, huh?

The thought followed her into the car. As they drove in silence, she caught a glimpse of him through the rearview mirror. He looked the same as always—calm, focused, completely unbothered.

She clicked her tongue and turned to the window, blinking more times than necessary.

As if that would make her stop thinking about it.

From the front seat, Chaewoon felt Haein’s gaze linger on him. He kept his eyes on the road, but he noticed everything—the slight shift in her seat, the way she suddenly blinked faster before turning to the window.

For a brief moment, he felt… aware of himself. Just a little.

But why?

Why did her gaze make him falter, even for a second?

He didn’t know.

< Chapter 3 Chapter 5 >

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

incorporated some QOT scenes in the story >< will also incorporate BF scenes next chapters!

I feel like maybe the story's pacing is a little slow I noticed that it has fewer readers each chapter🥲 maybe the slow-burn is burning too slow?🥲

but it's fine! I was momentarily discouraged to continue it but honestly, I think I'm also writing this story mostly for myself hihi it's been a loonnggg while since I started writing something again, like actually writing and not just daydreaming about it throughout the day

thank you again who's still tuning in! <3

taglist: @lvnat1c <3

"I can't stop"

rip cutedolls

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.