#baek kang-hyuk

[ellieinink]

Between Life and Love

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Drama, Romance

Warnings: Graphic depictions of medical trauma, surgery scenes, emotional distress, major angst with comfort elements

Word Count: ~12,000+

Synopsis: When trauma surgeon Baek Kang-hyuk is forced to operate on the one person he can't lose, his carefully controlled world shatters. As you fight to survive, he faces a different battle—one that has nothing to do with medicine and everything to do with his heart.

Baek Kang-hyuk had long since mastered the art of detachment. It was a necessity in his line of work. Trauma surgeons didn't have the luxury of hesitation, of emotions clouding their judgment. The moment a patient was wheeled in, they became a case—a puzzle to be solved, a life to be saved. Nothing more.

It was the only way to survive in this field.

But all of that training, all of the carefully constructed walls he had built around himself, shattered the second he saw you.

The emergency room was a symphony of urgency—shouts, hurried footsteps, the shrill beeping of monitors tracking vitals that were rapidly plummeting. Kang-hyuk had barely stepped into the trauma bae when Jang-mi's voice cut through the noise.

"GSW to the abdomen, severe hemorrhaging—pressure dropping fast!"

Her voice was sharp, professional, but there was something in it that wasn't usually there. A crack in the mask she always wore.

And then he saw why.

His world narrowed, everything around him dissolving into static.

Blood. So much blood. Seeping through your clothing, pooling onto the gurney, staining the hands of the paramedics desperately trying to keep pressure on the wound.

And you.

Pale. Unconscious. Broken in a way that made something in him fracture.

He was moving before his mind could catch up, shoving past residents and nurses, gripping on the edge of the stretcher like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.

No. No, no, no.

"Shit," Park Gyeong-won muttered, checking your vitals. "BP's tanking—60 over 40. We need to get her into surgery now."

Kang-hyuk barely registered the words. His entire body felt like it was on autopilot, his brain screaming at him to do something.

Then—

"Kang-hyuk."

It was barely a whisper. A breath. But it cut through him like a blade.

Your eyes fluttered open—just barely—but you were looking at him. Your fingers twitched like you were trying to reach for him, but you were too weak.

His hands trembled. His chest was too tight, his pulse roaring in his ears.

"I'm here," he forced out, his voice hoarse, raw. He grabbed your hand, pressing it against his, grounding himself in the warmth of your skin. "You're going to be okay."

A lie. He never made promises in trauma cases. But this was you. He couldn't lose you.

"Number one, you're assisting," he snapped, snapping back into focus. His voice was steel, his mask sliding into place. "Gangster, let's move. Now."

This wasn't just another surgery.

This was war.

And he would fight with everything he had.

The operating room was cold, sterile. A stark contrast to the burning panic in Kang-hyuk's chest.

"She's coding!"

Dr. Park's voice was sharp, cutting through the haze threatening to consume him.

"V-fib—starting compressions!"

Kang-hyuk's world blurred. His grip on the scalpel was ironclad, his knuckles white as he forced himself to focus. Breathe. Focus. Fix this.

Jae-won worked swiftly beside him, suctioning blood away. "Entry wound is deep—bullet's lodged near the liver. We need to—"

"She's crashing again!"

The defibrillator whined as it charged.

Not like this. Not her.

"Clear!"

Your body jolted. The monitor flatlined.

Kang-hyuk's stomach lurched.

"Clear!"

Another jolt. Another agonizing second of silence—

Then—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

A heartbeat. Weak, but there.

Kang-hyuk exhaled sharply, his hands resuming their work with precision. Focus. Fix what's broken.

"Bullet's out," he said, voice strained. "Starting repairs."

The OR was a battlefield, and Kang-hyuk refused to lose.

Time lost meaning.

Hours passed in a blur of sutures, transfusions, whispered prayers between each stitch.

And then—

"She's stabilizing," Jang-mi breathed.

A ragged breath left Kang-hyuk's chest. His hands, stained with your blood, trembled as he stepped back.

His body ached. His scrubs were drenched in sweat. But none of that mattered.

You were alive.

For now, that was enough.

Pain. That was the first thing you registered. A dull, throbbing ache beneath layers of numbness.

Then—warmth. A hand. Familiar, steady.

Your lashes fluttered. The hospital room swam into focus. And there, slumped over the side of your bed, gripping your hand like a lifeline—

Baek Kang-hyuk.

His face was etched with exhaustion. Dark circles beneath his eyes, tension lining every inch of his frame. But he was there.

"Hey," you rasped, your throat dry.

His eyes snapped open instantly.

Relief. Raw, unguarded, washing over his face in waves.

"You scared the hell out of me," he muttered.

A weak smile tugged at your lips. "Guess I like keeping you on your toes."

His jaw clenched. His grip on your hand tightened, just slightly.

"Don't. Ever. Do that again."

You wanted to tease him. To joke. But there was something in his voice—something fragile.

So instead, you squeezed his fingers.

"I'm still here," you whispered.

His shoulders sagged. And for the first time since that night, Kang-hyuk breathed.

Days turned into weeks. Your wounds healed, but the scars—both seen and unseen—remained.

And yet, so did Kang-hyuk.

He was there for every painful step. Every long, sleepless night. Every moment of doubt.

One evening, as he sat beside you, his fingers tracing absent patterns against your wrist, you finally asked, "Why are you still here?"

His hand stilled.

Then, he looked at you. Really looked at you.

"Because," he murmured, "I almost lost you."

Your heart stuttered.

"And that made me realize..." He exhaled, his fingers brushing against yours. "I don't want a life where you're not in it."

Tears pricked your eyes.

"Kang-hyuk..."

But before you could speak, he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against your fingers.

And in that moment, you knew.

He had saved your life.

But you had always been the one saving his.

This is one of the longest that I've written... Send in requests for Baek Kang-hyuk, Yang Jae-won or Park Gyeong-won!!! Also, I might start writing for juji as well!!!

taglist: perm @missroro @study-with-reine234 @redhoodedtoad

[omiomi]

Soooo sorry for the late update! I’ve been swamped with university lately😓. This will be the last part showing their past, we’ll be back to the present for the next ones! Enjoy reading this long chapter!

Master link

Part 4

Code Red: Unfinished Sutures (Part 5)

Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

The night in Black Wings was quiet for once—no urgent calls, no gunfire in the distance, just the distant hum of generators and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. The kind of stillness that never lasted long.

Y/N sat on a supply crate, rolling her sore shoulder absentmindedly. Across from her, Baek stood leaning against the table, arms crossed, watching her with a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

She sighed. “You’re staring.”

Baek Kang Hyuk didn’t deny it.

“Malaika.”

She hummed, used to the name by now. “What?”

Baek tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady. “Do you know why I call you that?”

She smirked. “Because it means angel?”

He shook his head.

She frowned. “Then what?”

A pause. The kind that stretched, thick and heavy, between them.

Then, his voice—quiet, certain. “Because it means beautiful.”

Y/N blinked.

Of all the things he could have said, she hadn’t expected that.

She had heard people call her beautiful before, but coming from him, it felt different. Not casual. Not meaningless. But as if he had carried the word with him for a long time, choosing now to let it slip free.

Her throat felt tight. “Oh.”

Baek’s lips twitched, almost amused at her sudden loss for words. “Oh?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes to mask the warmth creeping up her neck. “It’s just unexpected, that’s all.”

He shrugged. “It shouldn’t be.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him—the sharp angles of his face softened under the dim light, the quiet confidence in his stance, the way his eyes, always so guarded, held something unspoken when they met hers.

She had no idea what to say to that.

So she didn’t.

Instead, she let the silence stretch between them, let the weight of his words settle.

For once, neither of them felt the need to fill the space.

And in that quiet moment, she thought—maybe this is enough.

—

Baek Kang-Hyuk had always believed he was a man of control.

Surgical precision, discipline, restraint—these were the principles that guided him through war zones and operating tables alike. He could shut out pain, suppress exhaustion, and detach himself from emotions when the situation demanded it.

But when it came to her?

He was failing. Miserably.

He caught himself watching her too often, lingering a second too long when their hands brushed, seeking her out in a room even when he had no reason to.

It was getting worse.

He knew it the moment he found himself in the medical tent long after his shift had ended, sitting on a rickety stool across from her while she reviewed patient charts.

Y/N barely looked up. “You’re hovering, Malak.”

His lips twitched. “I’m supervising.”

“Supervising what? Me reading?”

Baek leaned back, arms crossed. “You tend to overwork yourself. Someone has to make sure you don’t pass out at your desk.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. They both knew she had a bad habit of skipping meals and forgetting to sleep when she got too focused.

A comfortable silence settled between them.

Baek should have left then. Should have pulled himself away before this turned into another night of pretending he wasn’t here just for her.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he found his gaze drawn to the soft curve of her lips, the furrow of her brow, the way the dim lantern light traced the delicate slope of her nose.

A dangerous thought settled in his mind.

I could get used to this.

To her presence. To the quiet moments stolen between chaos. To the way she challenged him, grounded him, made him feel—

Y/N exhaled suddenly, rubbing her temples. “I swear, if I have to write one more medical report…”

Baek smirked. “Want me to do it for you?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “You hate paperwork.”

“I do,” he admitted. “But you look like you’re about to throw yourself onto the nearest gurney, so…” He shrugged. “I can make an exception.”

Y/N studied him for a long moment.

Then, to his absolute ruin, she smiled. A real one this time—small, a little tired, but warm in a way that made something in his chest tighten.

“You’re being weird, Malak.”

Baek scoffed. “I’m always weird.”

“Not like this.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, amused. “What’s going on with you?”

He opened his mouth—then shut it.

Because what was he supposed to say? That he was getting addicted to her? That he had crossed a line in his mind, and now there was no going back? That every time she so much as looked at him, he felt like a man standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump?

Instead, he said, “Nothing.”

Y/N hummed, unconvinced, but let it go.

Baek turned his attention to the reports, picking up a pen. He needed a distraction, something to keep his mind from wandering back to the way she smelled faintly of antiseptic and jasmine, or how her hair had come loose from her ponytail, strands falling across her cheek—

Damn it.

He was in trouble.

—

Keeping a secret in Black Wings was nearly impossible. Whispers spread faster than bullet wounds healed, and privacy was a luxury no one could afford.

Yet somehow, Baek and Y/N had managed.

It wasn’t an official relationship—not in the way most would define it. There were no labels, no confessions, just stolen moments in the dead of night, quiet glances across the chaos of the field, and hands that lingered a little too long when they thought no one was watching.

They weren’t naïve. Black Wings wasn’t the kind of place where love flourished. Attachments were liabilities, and emotions could get you killed. So they had agreed—keep it quiet. Keep it safe.

And it had worked.

Until it didn’t.

“You’re reckless.”

Baek’s voice was low, edged with frustration as he pressed an alcohol-soaked cloth to the gash on Y/N’s arm. They were hidden away in one of the smaller tents, out of sight from the rest of the camp.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

He exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath in Korean. “You’re impossible.”

She smirked, despite the sting of antiseptic. “And yet, here you are.”

Baek didn’t answer, but his hands softened against her skin. He worked in silence, the only sound between them the rustling of bandages and the occasional hiss of pain she couldn’t quite hold back.

Then, his fingers lingered. Just for a second. Just long enough for Y/N to notice.

Her breath caught.

Baek looked up. Their faces were close—too close.

Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

Then—

“Ahem.”

They both froze.

Baek turned his head sharply, and there, standing at the entrance of the tent, arms crossed and expression thoroughly unimpressed, was Walter.

Y/N immediately yanked her arm away from Baek, straightening up as if nothing had happened. “Walter.”

Baek, to his credit, remained calm. But there was a flicker of something—annoyance? Resignation?—in his eyes.

Walter raised a brow. “So… should I be concerned that our top doctors are sneaking off to patch each other up instead of reporting injuries properly?”

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “It’s nothing.”

Walter’s gaze flicked between them, unimpressed. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“Oh, I see.”

Baek tensed. “You see what?”

Walter chuckled. “You two are terrible at hiding things.”

Y/N groaned. “Walter, don’t—”

He raised a hand, stopping her. “Relax, I’m not going to tell anyone.”

Baek sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re insufferable.”

Walter grinned. “And you’re in love with her.”

Silence.

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, and she glanced at Baek, who had suddenly gone very, very still.

Walter tilted his head, amused. “Oh? Did I strike a nerve?”

Baek shot him a glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through steel. “Get out.”

Walter laughed, stepping back toward the tent flap. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”

Y/N threw a bandage at his head, but he ducked, grinning as he disappeared into the night.

—

Secrecy was exhausting.

Between dodging suspicions, keeping their interactions professional in front of others, and ensuring that no one—especially Walter—had more fuel to tease them with, Baek and Y/N barely had a moment alone.

Which was why when they did get one, it felt like a stolen piece of something forbidden.

The mission had gone sideways.

A supply run had turned into an ambush, and what should have been a quick in-and-out job had left Black Wings scrambling for an escape. The safehouse was overcrowded, filled with injured operatives and exhausted medics working under dim lights and thinning patience.

Y/N had been tending to a particularly stubborn gunshot wound when Baek caught her eye from across the room. His expression was unreadable, but there was something there—a flicker of concern, a silent question.

She gave a barely noticeable nod. I’m fine.

He looked unconvinced.

It took another hour before the situation calmed enough for them to slip away, unnoticed.

Baek found her first, hidden in the shadows of an alley behind the safehouse. The dim glow of the streetlight barely reached her, but it was enough to catch the tired slump of her shoulders.

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

She didn’t even turn. “So are you.”

Baek huffed, stepping closer. “You’ve been running on fumes.”

Y/N let out a quiet chuckle, though it lacked her usual bite. “Look who’s talking.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the distant hum of the city around them. Then, Baek moved.

She stiffened as his fingers brushed against her wrist, trailing up until he reached her shoulder. It was a light touch—barely there—but it sent a shiver down her spine.

“You’re hurt,” he muttered.

“Just bruises.”

His fingers lingered, just for a second too long. He shifted forward, closing the space between them. His warmth, his presence—it was overwhelming in a way she would never admit.

Then, softly, he murmured—

“Malaika.”

Her breath caught.

She knew what it meant. Angel. Beautiful.

But the way he said it—low, reverent, like a confession—felt like something else entirely.

Her lips parted, but no words came.

Because suddenly, it hit her.

Baek had always been Malak. He had always been the one watching over others, carrying burdens too heavy for one person, shielding people even when it hurt him.

But now, standing under the flickering streetlight, looking at her like she was something precious—

She was Malaika. She was the one being held in his gaze, steady and sure.

And she had no idea what to do with that.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like she wasn’t just another soldier in Black Wings. She wasn’t just another medic, another pair of hands trying to save lives.

She was seen.

By him.

Y/N swallowed hard, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

She didn’t dare move. Didn’t dare speak.

Because if she did, she might do something reckless.

Like close the remaining distance between them.

Like give in to the way his gaze lingered, dark and knowing.

Like finally stop pretending that this was just a secret they were keeping from others and not from themselves.

—

The night was thick with smoke and fading embers, the air heavy with something more than just exhaustion—finality.

Black Wings was unraveling.

Some had already left. Others lingered, waiting for orders that would never come. But the truth was undeniable. This was the end.

Baek Kang-Hyuk sat on the edge of a makeshift cot, rolling the tension from his shoulders. His hands were sore, raw from hours of work, but his mind was elsewhere.

On her.

She was still inside the tent, bent over a stack of reports, writing like nothing was changing. Like the world outside wasn’t shifting beneath them.

With a quiet sigh, he stood and made his way toward her.

Inside, the air was warmer, quieter.

Y/N was seated at a wooden desk, her pen moving steadily across paper that no longer held any meaning. The dim lantern beside her cast a soft glow on her face, outlining the exhaustion in her eyes.

She didn’t look up.

“You’re really leaving,” she said, more statement than question.

Baek exhaled. “I have to.”

The pen stilled.

She finally met his gaze. “Because of your father.”

His jaw tensed. She always saw through him.

“This isn’t just about me,” he said. “I made him a promise. I told him I’d come back to Korea. That I’d—” His throat tightened. “That I’d do something with my life outside of this.”

Y/N watched him, unreadable.

“And Black Wings isn’t something?” she asked quietly.

Baek raked a hand through his hair. “It’s not forever. We both knew that.”

A beat of silence.

Then, she let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I don’t think I did.”

Baek frowned. “What?”

Y/N looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers like she was trying to hold onto something invisible.

“I don’t know how to live outside of Black Wings.”

Baek’s breath caught.

She wasn’t saying it for sympathy. There was no desperation in her voice, no plea for him to stay. It was just a fact—a quiet, terrifying truth she had only now put into words.

“You can leave,” he said, softer this time. “Come with me.”

Y/N smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “And then what? Work in a city hospital? Be normal?” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know how.”

Baek took a step closer. “You could learn.”

Her fingers curled into a fist. “And if I can’t?”

Baek exhaled sharply. “Damn it, Y/N—”

She finally looked up at him, and the look in her eyes stopped him cold.

“Malak,” she murmured, the name that had always bound them together. The name only she could say the way she did. “This is my life.”

Baek felt something tighten in his chest.

He had always known this moment would come. From the first time he realized what Black Wings meant to her—what it gave her. A purpose. A home. An identity.

He had always known that when the time came for him to leave, she might not follow.

And yet, standing here, watching her choose this place over a life they could have had together, it still felt like a wound he hadn’t been prepared for.

He swallowed. “So that’s it?”

Y/N’s expression softened. “I can’t ask you to stay.”

And she wouldn’t.

Because she knew him too well. Knew the weight of his promise to his father. Knew that if she so much as whispered stay with me, he just might.

And that wasn’t fair.

So instead, she stood, closing the space between them until they were only inches apart.

Baek’s hands twitched at his sides.

For a moment, he thought she might reach for him. Might give him some sign that this—they—hadn’t just been another thing destined to slip through his fingers.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she just looked at him, as if memorizing every inch of his face.

And then she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear it—

“Go.”

Baek clenched his jaw.

And this time, he did.

He turned and walked away, his footsteps fading into the night.

Y/N didn’t move.

She just stood there, listening to the echo of his departure.

Then, in the silence he left behind, she made a decision.

She would wait.

No matter how long it took.

Not knowing that Baek Kang-Hyuk also decided at that moment.

To wait for her until she’s ready to come with him.

Part 6

AAAAAAAA. ngl, i had so much writer’s block while writing this🙂‍↕️. i think this series is getting quite long already? i might finish it within the next 2 parts! lmk what you guys think about this🫶🏻

random fanfic idea: malak and malaika fwb🤣

taglist: @study-with-reine234 @redhoodedtoad @celestialstar111 @ryujinxzyy @urfictional

[won1eluv]

dating with baek kang hyuk headcanon! sfw-nsfw(If you are going to be uncomfortable with the nsfw content, please do not read)

SFW

⌕ back to the beginning, if he realizes he likes you, he might get confused, even if he’s dated someone in the past, he didn’t know if it was the right time. but when his feelings grow, it’ll be hard for you to even understand when you’re dating.

⌕ because he’s a straight-laced guy and will say it openly. he might not be very romantic but when he’s drinking coffee with you on the roof, he’ll say “you know what? i love you” before taking a sip and it might make you spit the coffee in the air.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

“I SAID I LOVE YOU! do i have to yell like you?”

⌕ even though he’s always on the job, his eyes are always on you (except in the operating room, you know he needs to focus and he’ll try not to let you ruin it)

⌕ but of course, if he notices someone acting too close to you when he’s spying on you, it’s a different story. even if they're not very flirty, that smile on your face is enough to make him frown and come over to you two.

"yah! anus! don't you have any work to do, are you still hanging around here? get out!" the nickname he gave him made you laugh, while jae-won smiled shyly at you and quickly left because of kang hyuk's fear. kang hyuk looked around with a fake stretch and finally turned to you "it looks like you still have time to flirt with someone. should i give you more work?"

or if you can't find the person you're looking for, you can be sure that it's because of him.

"have you seen jae-won? he invited me for coffee but didn't show up after that."

"oh him? he's a little busy right now."

"really? but he said-"

your sentence was cut short as jae-won, who was running around, quickly passed you in the hallway, kang hyuk turned to you and narrowed his eyes, leaning towards you a little "what a shame. i have to fill your coffee time now."

⌕ It might be hard for him to admit that he's jealous at first, let's say his ego won't let him.

"wait a minute - were you jealous just now? that look is definitely different."

"don't be ridiculous. I'm just trying to distribute the work properly."

but if you push him...

"what's the problem if I'm jealous? we're dating, right? so stop yapping and get back to work."

⌕ we all know that he likes to give people nicknames. and yes. you have a too. and no. it's not romantic(yet)

he mostly likes to embarrass you in front of people. he likes your furrowed eyebrows and shy looks when you're angry at him. he's actually looking at you with love at the moment, but you might not notice it because you're angry (everyone but you see and know this look)

"chicken, can you give me that file?"

"how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?" you dropped the file in his hand harshly and he just grinned at you. "what's the problem? It suits you."

but things can change when you don't expect it. in the middle of the night, as you are getting ready to fall asleep with difficulty, the hand caressing your hair and the small kiss he places on your head, followed by the sentence "my best medicine." makes you open your eyes quickly and look at him.

"what did you just say?!'

a small giggle filled the room, his voice deep and sleepy, then looked at you with a smile "what happened chicken? are you surprised?"

⌕ he has a hard time sleeping. he definitely makes sure you get enough sleep but it can't be said that he does the same for himself, no matter how much you insist.

but when he finally finds a time to sleep, if you don't have anything important to do, he quickly calls you into the room and doesn't hesitate to bury his head in your neck. "i'm tired. stay still."

or...

"finally. this place doesn't smell like a hospital."

he just needs your scent and warmth at that moment. even if he doesn't get enough sleep, it's okay, that 3 minute calm moment is enough for him to regain his energy.

NSFW

⌕ he is definitely dominant and likes to take control. If you try to be in control, he is likely to make fun of you "do you think you can do this?"

⌕ he doesn't like to rush when he has a lot of time. he mostly likes to watch your reactions, observe what you like and don't like, and get to know your body.

⌕ oh and speaking of bodies, he definitely understands bodies very well. sometimes he stop it especially at the point of pleasure because hearing your whines gives him new reasons to make fun of you.

"I'm not even in, are you giving up already?"

"oh, you like it? then stop holding your voice, there's no one here to hear you."

⌕ we all know this guy is a doctor. so why this detail?

because he definitely has a strong body that can go on more rounds.

sometimes when you think you're done, he can ask for more because he can't resist you. but he also knows that too much pleasure will hurt after a while so... If you're lucky, he will care about that and give you time to rest. "one more round, hm? one last time, I promise. I know it hurts, this will be the last" (liar)

⌕ straightforward. loves to embarrass/annoy you and has a big ego. the only result of this combo is that he's a big expert in dirty talk.

it's not something he can do, he just likes to tell you the way you make him feel, he wants you to know how you drive him crazy.

especially when he whispers in your ear when he's out of breath...

"look at you, you were bolder a moment ago. now you're shaking with pleasure under me. are you going to keep talking big now?"

"hm? do you want me to go faster? what a shame, we still have time. let's stay like this for a while hm?"

"tired already? you wanted to be on top so don't whine and keep moving those hips."

"fuck- that's it. hang on for me a little longer, you feel so good."

⌕ he becomes the sweetest person in the world in aftercare :')

it's important for him to you relax and fall asleep after sex. so even if you're tired, he'll carry you to the bathroom in his arms if necessary and take care of all the work.

"after 5 minutes-" you find yourself in his arms without letting you finish your sentence "I better clean you up before those 5 minutes turn into 5 hours."

he'll caress your back, waist and hair until you fall asleep. a few kisses on your forehead and sweet little whispers. after he's sure you're asleep, he'll whisper one last time before closing his eyes "i love you."

hello??? I need him😭

[simplymessingaboutinboats]

.🥼🏥🚑🚁

[burningembers91]

War-Torn Love - Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

Please note this storyline will deal with issues of PTSD, and negative body image issues.

Synopsis: Two years ago, Dr Baek Kang-Hyuk saved your life. Separated by war, you've searched for each other since that fateful day. But the war changed you, physically and mentally, and you're no longer sure you're good enough for the man you fell in love with.

A/N: I binged four episodes of The Trauma Code last night am I am OBSESSED!!! Give it a watch on Netflix, it's so, so good.

Some nights, the pain still kept you awake. The searing, burning, tearing agony that ripped its way from your left hip, down across your thigh to the top of your kneecap. The scar was ugly and red, a twisted, knotted mass of tissue that ached when you were too cold, burned when you were too hot, and stretched your skin to almost breaking point every single day. You never wore skirts or dresses anymore, too ashamed and embarrassed for anyone to see the disfigured flesh. You hadn’t had a boyfriend, or even a date in two years. No one would want to be with someone as mangled and broken as you. Some days the stiffness in your leg was so bad that you limped, your figure hunched over like a frail pensioner. You didn’t feel like you anymore. When you looked in the mirror, you saw a woman in the prime of her life, but you felt well past your best.

Even if you did have the courage to date, no one would ever live up to your expectations. You’d had those met and exceeded by the man who had saved your life. You were still walking the earth thanks to one man who had so selflessly put his life on the line to save yours. Two years ago, tired of the mundanity of the everyday and looking to give something back, you decided to volunteer with a small charity, providing assistance to countries ravaged by war. It was your job to help distribute food, clothing and sleeping bags to families escaping conflict. You’d been based in Afghanistan, and that was where you’d met Dr Baek Kang-Hyuk. The man was unstoppable, a force of nature that not even God himself could bring down. He never seemed to stop, never seem to tire. He’d helped countless people, working round the clock to save the lives of men, women, and children.

You’d worked together for six months, a friendship blossoming somewhere between the derelict buildings and war-torn agony. He was quite a reserved man, but during the long, lonely nights, you’d sit and talk while he kept an eye on his patients. You learned he was originally from Seoul, that he’d trained to be a trauma surgeon because he wanted to be just like his dad. He’d spent time in the army and could hit a target point blank with his eyes closed. He was kind, if a little cocky, and he made you feel safe. Somewhere along the line, you felt your friendship change. It was small at first, a little crackle of electricity in the dark night, barely noticeable, but then it slowly burned into something more. Stolen kisses in the corridor of the makeshift hospital, a comforting hug when the world seem a little too heavy. You never took it further than that; you couldn’t afford to be away from the patients for long enough, but you both longed to spend the night together.

You only had a week left of your volunteer work when disaster struck. You’d been heading back to the hospital with a supply of food and water when the car bomb went off only meters from where you stood. You were thrown backwards, your body ravaged by shrapnel and rubble. You don’t remember much about that day; you only remember it was the last time you saw Kang-Hyuk’s face. It had been him who had saved you, him who had stopped the massive arterial bleed, who had given you his own blood in an emergency transfusion on the side of the road. You’d been airlifted to safety shortly after, and that was the last time you saw him.

You had no other information on your saviour, other than his name and the fact he lived in Seoul. He had no social media presence, no Internet presence at all. Once you were out of hospital, you searched desperately for him, phoning all your charity contacts to see if anyone could find him. But you had no luck. You were even desperate enough to travel to Seoul to see if you could find him. For two years you never gave up, setting down roots in the city he called home. You didn’t even know if still lived here, didn’t even know if he was still alive. But you couldn’t give up, not when he’d fought so hard to keep you alive.

You’d taken a job at Hankuk University Hospital in the administration department, slowly building yourself a life, but never really allowing yourself to fully live it. you felt empty without Kang-Hyuk, felt so lost and alone. Those six months you’d spent with him had been the best months of your life, and he’d been ripped away from you so callously.

But fate was a funny thing; and she knew you’d you waited long enough. A new attending trauma surgeon was due to start at the hospital. You weren’t privy to any more information, you administration position making you one of the lowest in the hospital ranks. But as you strolled through the corridors, your left leg dragging ever so slightly behind your right, you saw him. He’d bulked up a little more, his broad chest and shoulders filling out his designer suit. He strode through the hospital with such purpose, his very presence commanding authority. He always had been a cocky bastard, but in the best way possible. He didn’t notice you as he walked, too focused on getting to his destination. But you’d waited so long to see him, and you couldn’t let him slip through your fingers again.

“Baek Kang-Hyuk!” You shouted his name, passersby stopping to stare at you. He turned, a look of annoyance on his chiselled features. But then he saw you, the girl he’d given his own blood to in order to save. The girl he’d spent the last two years trying to find was standing right in front of him. “It’s you,” he choked, closing the gap between you. You didn’t care if people were watching, tears streaming down your face as Kang-Hyuk pulled you into his chest. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered, holding your face between his hands as he took you in. You’d changed since he’d last seen you, the stress and anxiety that had plagued you since that awful day had made their mark on your face, but you were still so beautiful. “I looked for you,” you told him, “I never stopped.” “Neither did I,” he smiled. He wanted to kiss you, wanted to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

“Dr Baek to trauma bay 12,” a voice over the intercom broke through your happy reunion, tearing you apart once again. “Take my number,” he said, thrusting his business card into your hand. “Text me. I can’t lose you again.”

As he hurried down the corridor to the next emergency that awaited him, you looked down at his card. You weren’t the same person you’d been two years ago. You’d change, and not for the better. You were bitter, scared of your own shadow, and ashamed of the body that had been wrecked by the car bomb. You wondered if he’d still want you when he realised your scars hadn’t healed. You wondered if he’d want you when he found out you still woke up at night screaming, your body and sheets soaked in sweat as you relived your fractured memories.

You wrote and rewrote your text to him a dozen times that day, your head and heart battling against one another. Every time you went to press send, the image of your scar-ridden body stopped you. You were damaged goods, and now you’d be working together it was probably best to keep things professional. You didn’t want to risk falling in too deep and getting your heart broken again. I look forward to working with you, Dr Baek. You kept it nice and simple, and wholly professional. Two years you’d been searching for the man you’d fallen in love with. But now that you’d found him again you realised, you’d never stopped to think whether he’d still want you. You were the girl with a broken body and a damaged mind. You’d never seen Kang-Hyuk so much as flinch, but the slightest noise sent you running with your tail between your legs. He was brave, and you were just a scared little mouse.

As much as it broke your heart, you’d keep the man who saved your life at arm’s length and save you both the heartache when you no longer lived up to his expectations.

[soneblomsblog]

Jealousy

Baek Kang-hyuk x Fem!reader

Working in the ER was always hectic, but today, things were oddly smooth. Maybe it had something to do with Dr. Park. The man was competent, confident, and, if I was being honest, kind of charming.

“You did great back there,” Dr Park said, flashing me a grin as I finished up with a patient. “That was some quick thinking.”

I waved him off with a chuckle. “Just doing my job.”

Dr. Beak, who had been standing across the room charting, suddenly slammed his clipboard onto the counter. I jumped exchanging a glance with Dr Park.

“You okay, Beak?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” Beak snapped, feathers ruffling. “Unlike some people, I don’t have time to stand around flirting.”

Dr Park smirked. “Flirting? I was just complimenting her skills.”

“Doubtful,” Beak muttered.

I blinked. Was he… sulking?

Dr Park, clearly enjoying himself, leaned against the nurses’ station. “You know, Y/N, if you ever want a real break from the chaos, I know a great café nearby. Best coffee in town.”

Beak let out what could only be described as an offended squawk. “She doesn’t drink coffee,” he blurted out.

I crossed your arms. “I literally had a coffee this morning.”

Beak ignored me. “And even if she did, she wouldn’t waste time on trivial outings during her shift.”

Dr Park snorted. “Relax, Beak. It’s just an invitation.” He winked at me before walking away. “Think about it.”

Beak’s feathers fluffed so dramatically.he might explode. “Absolutely not.”

I turned to him, amused. “Did you just tell me what I can and can’t do?”

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “I’m just saying, if you want quality company, you should be more selective.”

“Oh?” I smirked crossing my arms over my chest “And who would you suggest?”

Beak hesitated, his beak clicking shut. He was trapped. His eyes flickered away, then back at me. “Well… I am obviously the superior choice.”

I burst out laughing. “Beak, are you jealous?”

He straightened, puffing up. “That’s absurd.”

“It’s not.” I leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “You totally are.”

Beak’s beak twitched. He grabbed a random chart and practically shoved it into my hands. “We have work to do.”

I grinned, following him. “You know, if you wanted to ask me out, you could just say so.”

Beak stopped mid-step. “I—That’s—” He turned away quickly, muttering under his breath as he stalked off.

[pahintulot]

Oftentimes, as we grow older, we forget the things we are supposed to be dying and living for.

This scene made me realize and pray that if I happen to reach that certain age, I hope I still have with me the sparks, the grit, and above all, the passion to do what I have always dreamt to do.

Oftentimes, as we get older, we tend to become desensitize with what once made our lives worth dying and living for. And I can't really blame the adults because life can really teach us lessons filled with lemons and would sometimes force us bitter pills to swallow.

I guess this is why the heart and dreams we carry as a teenager are really the most passionate ones. Because it was the age where we believe everything is possible and everything is just at an arms length—that we will get there. But as adults, we know that that is not always the case. And sometimes, we just simply learned to live with that.

But I am really hoping that if and when I reach this age, I hope whatever morals I have as an eighteen years old from years ago will still be within me. I hope she never lose her sparks. I hope she never lose that fire within her.

I can only hope.

[mechanicspal]

they hate it when you serve chaotic genius doctors who would do anything to save the patient, have a strong connection to a lady in power who employs them, and was accused of medical malpractice

[ohigotanewobsession]

episode 2 of trauma code is so gay

• jaewon really have 2 man fight over him

• kanghyuk asking help from lesbian nurse jangmi how to woo jaewon, "he said no. he's playing hard to get"

• kanghyuk RUNNING to dr han office to interrupt their meeting

• kanghyuk listening to jangmi advise to sprinkle compassion in his words

• kanghyuk cheering internally when jaewoon chooses trauma

• kanghyuk telling jaewon "I won't let you work them all by yourself" = "you are not alone i am with you"( jaewon also smiling ear to ear at that)

• Kanghyuk revealing why he chosed jaewon (also implying how he always observed jaewon)

• jaewon promising he won't disappoint him

[kyitsya]

walter & malak take a break

[mingycr]

yall i can’t wait anymore i need more baek kang hyuk or ju ji hoon fics asap please tag me if anyone writes any fics 🙏🏻 im so downbad for juji these past few weeks i’m abt to burst 😭

[ellieinink]

The Trouble with Admitting Things

Baek Kang-hyuk x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Light Slow Burn

Warnings: Mild teasing, secondhand embarrassment

Word Count: ~6,500

Synopsis: After a grueling shift, you accidentally admit to admiring Dr. Baek Kang-hyuk—big mistake. He seizes every chance to tease you, turning your embarrassment into daily entertainment. But when the teasing gives way to unexpected sincerity, you realize admiration might not be so one-sided after all.

You should have known better than to let your guard down around Baek Kang-hyuk.

Especially not when you were running on fumes, too exhausted to keep up your usual defenses.

It had been a brutal shift at the trauma center—back-to-back emergencies, rushed procedures, and a never-ending stream of critical cases. The air had been thick with tension, every second spent making life-or-death decisions. But despite the chaos, the team had worked together like a well-oiled machine, with Kang-hyuk at the helm, cool-headed and sharp as ever.

And now? Now you were all slumped in the break room, desperately clinging to the last ounces of energy in your bodies.

The scent of instant coffee mixed with antiseptic filled the air, and you nursed your mug as if it held the key to your survival. Across from you, Dr. Park Gyeong-won sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples.

“I think I lost about five years of my life in that last hour.”

Jang-mi, one of the trauma nurses, groaned. “Forget years, I think my soul left my body when that last code was called.”

There was a chorus of agreement.

And that was when your sleep-deprived brain betrayed you.

“Honestly,” you muttered, stretching your sore neck, “if it weren’t for Dr. Baek, half of us wouldn’t have made it through that shift.”

The moment the words left your mouth, the room fell eerily silent.

You blinked, sluggishly registering the amused looks being exchanged.

Gyeong-won raised an eyebrow, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Oh? Is that admiration I hear?”

Jang-mi, who had just taken a sip of tea, nearly choked. She slammed her cup down, eyes wide with exaggerated shock. “Wait, wait—our Dr. Baek?” Her gaze snapped to Kang-hyuk, who was leaning against the counter, watching the scene unfold with an infuriatingly smug expression.

“Did you hear that?” she gasped.

Dr. Yang Jae-won, who had been lazily sprawled in his chair, perked up. “Wow, (Y/N). That’s high praise coming from you.” He smirked. “You usually just call him an insufferable ass.”

Your stomach dropped. Oh, no.

“I meant professionally,” you blurted, suddenly very aware of how hot your face felt.

Kang-hyuk chuckled, arms crossed, his smirk widening. “Professionally, huh?”

You shot him a glare, but he was enjoying this way too much.

Unfortunately, so was everyone else.

“Oh, don’t backtrack now,” Jang-mi teased, practically vibrating with excitement. “We all heard it.”

Gyeong-won leaned forward, chin resting on his hand. “So, tell us, (Y/N). What exactly do you admire about Dr. Baek?”

You swore you felt your soul leave your body. “Can we not—”

Jae-won smirked. “Is it his surgical skills? His confidence? His broad shoulders?”

Jang-mi gasped. “His hands, maybe?”

“Oh my God, stop—”

“Or is it,” Kang-hyuk drawled, tilting his head, “my charming personality?”

Your entire face went up in flames.

Kang-hyuk took a slow step closer, voice rich with amusement. “Why are you blushing?”

“I am not—”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No—”

“You are.”

“I swear to—”

Jang-mi gasped again, dramatic as ever. “Oh no. What if it’s actually his hands?”

Gyeong-won feigned deep thought. “It’s the hands, isn’t it?”

“I HATE ALL OF YOU.”

Kang-hyuk grinned, full-on thriving in your misery. “So, (Y/N),” he mused, “do you admire my hands?”

You considered throwing your coffee at him.

The problem with Baek Kang-hyuk was that he never let things go.

Ever.

For the next week, he found every opportunity to remind you of your unfortunate slip-up.

During morning rounds: “(Y/N), you seem distracted. Thinking about my hands again?”

During surgery: “You’re staring. I get it. My technique is admirable.”

Even in the middle of a high-stakes procedure: “Focus, (Y/N). Just pretend it’s me guiding you with my admirable skills.”

It was relentless. And the worst part? Everyone else was in on it.

Jang-mi started taking exaggerated notes whenever Kang-hyuk spoke, dramatically whispering, “Such admiration,” under her breath.

Jae-won? He would randomly sigh in the middle of conversations and lament, “If only someone admired me the way (Y/N) admires Dr. Baek.”

Even Park Gyeong-won, who was usually the most mature of the bunch, just smirked whenever you shot him a pleading look.

You were never going to live this down.

The tipping point came when Kang-hyuk—absolute menace that he was—walked into the break room while you were alone, arms crossed, looking far too amused.

“You know,” he started conversationally, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh no.”

He ignored you. “Since you admire me so much, maybe I should return the favor.”

You groaned. “Please don’t.”

“But there’s just so much to admire,” he continued dramatically. “Your sharp tongue, your ability to withstand my teasing—”

You threw a napkin at him. He dodged easily.

“See?” he grinned. “That resilience. Very admirable.”

You contemplated homicide.

It all came to a head late one night.

You were in the on-call room, exhausted, head resting against the back of the couch. The door creaked open, but you didn’t bother looking up.

“If this is about my admiration comment,” you grumbled, “I am going to scream.”

A chuckle. “Relax. It’s just me.”

You cracked one eye open to see Kang-hyuk standing by the door, hands in his pockets. He looked… different. Less teasing. More thoughtful.

You frowned. “What?”

He hesitated before stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

“Listen,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I know I’ve been messing with you a lot, but…” He exhaled, looking almost—shy? “It actually meant something.”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“What you said.” His voice was quieter now. “That you admired me.”

You swallowed, suddenly unsure where this was going.

He let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “I don’t really hear that a lot. Not from people who—” He trailed off before shaking his head. “Anyway. It was nice. Coming from you.”

Your heart did something funny in your chest.

“You admire me?” you repeated dumbly.

His lips quirked. “Someone who keeps me on my toes? Someone I—” He paused before smirking, voice dropping to something softer. “—also admire.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“I—what—”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Relax, (Y/N). It’s just admiration.”

Your face burned. “You’re the worst.”

“I know.” His grin widened. “But at least now we’re even.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

Baek Kang-hyuk just laughed.

I’ve got a Yang Jae-won fic cooking in my drafts… should I??? 👀👀👀

taglist: perm @missroro @study-with-reine234

[omiomi]

The Trauma Code: Heroes on Call

Baek Kang-Hyuk

Code Red: Unfinished Sutures

Genre: Medical Romance, Action, Drama

Tags: Light Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Yearning, Slight Exes to Lovers

Warnings: Violence, Explicit Mention of Injuries, Language

Synopsis: In the heart of war zones and under the shadow of an elite underground medical organization, two brilliant doctors, Baek Kang-Hyuk and Y/N, once stood side by side—partners in chaos, reluctant allies turned something more.

Baek left Black Wings to fulfill a promise to his father, returning to Korea in search of a life beyond the battlefield. Y/N stayed behind, unable to let go of the only world she had ever known.

Years later, fate forces them back together. In the high-pressure corridors of the Operating Room, unfinished business bleeds into every exchanged glance and every suture stitched in urgency.

But old wounds don’t heal easily. When ghosts from Black Wings resurface, and the past demands answers, Baek and Y/N must confront the one thing they’ve spent years avoiding—each other.

Because love is like an open wound. And some sutures were never meant to be left unfinished.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

[sunnynabons]

When you watch a new show (Trauma Code: Heroes on Call) and ur brain automatically tries to relate it with ur fixation (HOUSE MD)

"BAEK KANG HYUK IS HOUSE CODED HE IS H0USE CODED !!!!!" I scream as they drag me into the psych ward

[justanother-story]

OH my god, they are ROOMMATES

[burningembers91]

Sweet Like Chocolate - Baek Kang-Hyuk x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

War-Torn Love Keeping Hope Alive

Synopsis: When your services are required in the trauma centre, emotions between you and Baek Kang-Hyuk bubble over.

Baek Kang-Hyuk had photos of every patient he’d ever saved. Their frames adorned every inch of every wall in his office, spread across every spare surface of his windowsill and desk. There were twenty years’ worth of stories in those photos, each one representing a life he had saved. There was only one person he’d never managed to take a photo with, the one life that had meant the most to him out of everyone: you.

Your face had plagued both his nightmares and his dreams for the last two years, visions of both saving and losing you that kept him awake at night. Kang-Hyuk had searched so desperately for you, but never had he imagined that he would find you more broken than you were that day he found you on the roadside. The woman he knew was no longer there, replaced by a sad, scared, bitter shell. He knew the old you was somewhere deep down inside, and he kicked himself time and time again at his decision to let you leave on that helicopter without him. If he’d been with you, he could have made sure you got therapy, that your scars were properly tended to and cared for. You were his patient, and he had failed you.

After that day in your office, he made sure he took the long way round to the trauma centre each day, just so he could pass by your office. Your conversation had shattered him, had left him heartbroken at the way you viewed yourself. You were still so beautiful to Kang-Hyuk, still as perfect as you were the day he’d first laid eyes on you. He could tell the fight in you was still there; it was evident in your sheer determination to avoid him at all costs.

You didn’t want Kang-Hyuk’s pity, you didn’t want to be something he needed to fix. He’d always had this incessant need to help every single person he came across, his desire to heal broken people almost an obsession. You wanted to let him help you, wanted to open yourself up to the man you’d fallen in love with, but you were so ashamed. You were ashamed of the way you looked, of the way your damaged leg felt like something that wasn’t part of you anymore. You were ashamed of how bitter you’d become, viewing the world with a constant sour taste in your mouth. You were ashamed that you didn’t want to let Kang-Hyuk love you, when it was quite clear he’d never given up hope when it came to you. You did your best to avoid him, for both your sake and his, but nothing lasted forever, and eventually you had to face the music.

The trauma centre was already wildly understaffed, and the essential paperwork required for each case was in desperate need of sorting. Your name had been pulled, requested by Kang-Hyuk himself, to go and assist in bringing the paper trail up to speed. You’d argued profusely, but once Kang-Hyuk had made up his mind, there was no turning back.

You found yourself standing outside his office, your arms folded across your chest as you waited for him to answer your knock. Your blood was boiling, a deep raging simmering inside your veins. How many times did you need to make it clear that you didn’t want his help? Did he really think that trapping you in his stuffy office with a mountain of casework was going to make a difference? “Come in!” His voice sounded through the thick wooden door, and you pushed it open a little harder than you’d intended, sending the door crashing back into the pristine white wall behind it. “Oops,” you muttered, marching over to the spare desk that had been set up for you. Your eyes immediately went to the wall in front of you, covered from floor to ceiling in pictures. In each one of them Kang-Hyuk posed with a different person, from all walks of life, each one beaming into the camera. He’d told you about his polaroids, about his need to capture the image of every life he’d saved. He’d told you that losing a patient was the single worst feeling he experienced, and each one hurt more than the last. He kept photos of all the people he’d saved to remind himself on dark days that he had made a difference.

There was one frame, directly behind his desk that didn’t have a photo in. It was a dark brown frame, and in place of a photo was a chocolate bar wrapper. You were instantly transported back to the refugee hospital in Afghanistan. That night, you and Kang-Hyuk had shared that bar of chocolate, savouring the sweet, rich cocoa as it melted on your tongue. That was the first night he’d kissed you, his hands gripping onto your waist as you held each other in the darkened hallway. You hadn’t been able to eat that brand of chocolate since, the memory of that night too painful for you. If you closed your eyes, you could still feel his lips on yours, could still taste the chocolate on your tongue. If you focused hard enough, you could still remember how his breath felt against your neck, how his voice sounded when he whispered your name.

Kang-Hyuk watched you as you took in the frame, saw the tears spring to your eyes as the memories came flooding back. He could still remember how you tasted that night, the chocolate mixed with your shea butter lip balm. He could still remember how soft your skin was, how sweet your moans were as his lips caressed the soft contours of your jawline and neck. That wrapper was the only thing he had to connect himself to you, the one physical piece of evidence he had that his feelings for you hadn’t been a dream. “You kept it,” you whispered, your eyes not leaving the frame. “It was the only thing I had of you,” Kang-Hyuk replied, pushing his chair back and gingerly making his way towards you. He didn’t want to scare you away, but he needed to close the gap between you, needed to be as close to you as you’d let him.

You could feel the energy between you, the atoms in the air almost vibrating with the tension. It took every ounce of your strength not to reach out and touch him. You knew you both wanted it; both wanted to close the gap and pick up from where you’d left off. But your embarrassment and shame were too great, the damage not something you wanted Kang-Hyuk to see. “I never got a photo of you,” he smiled, “so I used the chocolate wrapper in its place. It was stupid-“ “It’s not stupid,” you told him, “I think it’s sweet.”

He sighed, perching on the edge of his desk as you looked at you. “I regret leaving you every day,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I never should have left your side. I never should have let you get on that helicopter alone.” “Kang-Hyuk,” you smiled sadly, “we both know you couldn’t have gone with me. There were too many others who needed saving. You did the right thing. It’s my fault I didn’t get the help I needed.” “But I should have been there for you,” he cried, slamming his fist down on his desk in frustration. “I would have told you every day how beautiful I think you are. I would have made sure you never doubted yourself.”

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, “this is all on me. I didn’t get help; I didn’t try and fix myself. I looked in the mirror, hated what I saw and didn’t bother to try and change anything.” Tears spilled down your cheeks, a shuddering sob wracking your body. Kang-Hyuk pulled you into him, his arms closing tightly around you. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings until your tears had dried. “I never stopped loving you,” he said, “not once.” “I know,” you sniffed, your mascara stains smeared across his white lab coat. “I never stopped loving you either. I just stopped loving myself.”

His hands cupped your cheeks, wiping away the smudged makeup under your eyes. You wanted him to kiss you, wanted him to take away the last two years’ worth of pain and self-torment you’d put yourself through. Kang-Hyuk learned forward, his lips brushing against yours. That one small, delicate touch was enough to send a spark of desire through your body, every cell of your being alight for the man who had saved you. “Kiss me,” you whispered, your desire for him almost overwhelming.

Just before his lips touched yours, his phone rang, breaking the delicate intimacy of the moment. “I have to get this,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours as he fought between his love for you and his duty to his patients. “I know,” you smiled sadly, clinging to his chest as he answered the call. “I have to go,” he whispered, a few seconds later. “There’s been a crash, they need me on site…” “Go,” you told him, “We can talk when you’re back.” “Wait for me,” he pleaded, “I have so much I want to say.”

Looking back at the desk he’d set up for you, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you joking me?” you smiled, “have you seen the mountain of paperwork you’ve given me? I’ll be here for days.” You watched him leave, listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps echoing off the linoleum floors. You would make sure you stayed this time, promised yourself you wouldn’t run and hide. Time and time again, Kang-Hyuk had shown you that he wasn’t going to give up on you. You never should have given up on yourself, never should have allowed yourself to sink into such a deep, dark hole.

You were tired of living inside a shell, of hiding away from the world. You couldn’t change what happened to you, couldn’t change the decisions you’d made since that fateful day. But you could change what happened next. You could decide to let Kang-Hyuk back in, to pick up where you left off. He still needed that Polaroid of you, the picture of his most precious patient to hang on the wall.

And you needed to allow yourself to open up, to let back in the man who had never given up on you.