hiiiii... can u write something like, doctor jungwon with nurse reader... and the reader suffers an accident...
Dr. Yang, Can You Not?
Pairing: Surgeon! Jungwon x Nurse! Fem! reader
Synopsis: Being a nurse means long hours, short breaks, and trying not to stare too long at Jungwon, or so we call, Dr. Yang Jungwon, during rounds. No one said falling for a surgeon would be part of the job description, but here we are.
Author's Note: This was honestly the hardest thing I’ve ever written 😭 It took so much time and research because I wanted to reflect the reality of hospital life. Writing a story where the characters are both grounded was a challenge, but I learned a lot from it. Huge thank you to the anon who requested this. I’m so sorry it took forever to finish. I poured my heart into it. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I struggled writing it 😭💉 Happy reading! 💗
Content Warning: Please note that this is a fictional story. While I did a lot of research to make the hospital setting feel real, this does not accurately represent actual medical procedures or protocols. This was written for entertainment purposes only. This story mentions blood, injuries, fainting, medical emergencies, and heavy emotional moments. Also includes cursing and unfiltered language at times. Please read with care!
Permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy @firstclassjaylee @ijustwannareadstuff20
Being a nurse isn’t easy. It’s not like the shows, and it’s not like what people outside the hospital think it is. There’s no time to breathe when you’re responsible for lives. You learn to control your emotions, move fast, and think faster. And even then, mistakes happen.
You knew something was off the moment the shift slowed down. The patient was fine, but the chart wasn’t. There’d been an update, a new dosage written in right after you made the rounds. Jungwon, or so everyone calls, Dr. Yang, had caught it. He said nothing then, only glanced at the chart and walked off. He asked to speak to you in the staff lounge an hour later. He didn’t sit. He didn’t lecture. “Walk me through what happened,” he said, arms crossed. He seemed calm but unreadable.
You shifted your weight. “It was bed 14. The chart was updated, but I didn’t double-check. I was covering trauma for Jina, running back and forth. I saw the old dosage and went with it. I didn’t mean to cut corners. I…I missed it.” He didn’t interrupt. You continued, “The update must’ve come through after I’d already prepped, and I know that doesn’t excuse anything. I was responsible for checking again, but I didn’t, Dr. Yang.”
For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then he exhaled lightly. “Patient’s fine. No harm done. I logged it as a near miss.” You nodded, but it didn’t feel like relief. Only a confirmation of what you already feared, that it had been close. Too close. “You’re not careless,” he added. “You’ve been consistent. One mistake doesn’t change that. But next time, don’t rush. Even if you’re covering, you say something.”
“I will,” you said. You meant it. He looked at you for a moment longer and asked. “Are you alright?” You hesitated, “I’m just mad at myself.”
That seemed to land with him. Not sympathy, he wasn’t the type, but understanding. “Good. You should be. Means you won’t let it happen again.” He turned toward the door, paused with his hand on the knob. “If it starts feeling too much, don’t wait until it breaks you. Say something sooner.”
And that was the thing with Jungwon. He wasn’t that warm, but when it mattered, he was present. And in a place where lives hang by a thread daily, that meant everything.
🚑
You were slumped on the break room couch with your wrinkled scrubs and hair clipped up with zero effort. Jina had her feet on the table, unbothered by hospital etiquette, while Ara tried to get the vending machine to accept her crumpled bill for the fourth time. “Just accept your fate. No snacks for you,” Jina mumbled while eyes half-shut. “I just want a chocolate bar,” Ara said, pressing the buttons with the desperation of someone clinging to hope. “This hospital is cursed.”
“I could’ve told you that,” you muttered. “I almost gave the wrong dosage to bed 14 today.” That woke Jina up. “Wait, what?”
You shrugged. “Dr. Yang caught it. He asked me to walk him through it. No yelling, though. It’s only that terrifying calm voice.”
“Oh no,” Ara groaned, flopping onto the chair beside you. “The ‘walk me through it’ is worse than yelling. It’s like guilt, shame, and a midlife crisis all in one sentence.”
“I kept waiting for the part where he tells me I’m off the schedule next week,” you said.
“And did he?” Jina raised an eyebrow.
“No. He said I’m not careless. Which somehow made me feel worse.”
“Because now you have a reputation to protect,” Ara said, poking your leg with her foot. “Welcome to hell.” She added. “Nurses from the third floor were hanging around the corridor again.” You didn’t look up from your notes. “What for?”
“Dr. Yang was in OR 3. Apparently, the supply room suddenly became the most visited place in the hospital.” Jina gave a tired laugh as she unwrapped her sandwich. “It’s funny. The way they pretend to be casual with clipboards in hand.” You shook your head. “They’ll be disappointed. He barely even looks up unless it’s patient-related.”
“That’s what makes him kind of intimidating,” Ara said. “Not in a mean way. He’s just strict and focused.” Jina nodded. “Still better than the others. He won’t call you out in front of a patient. He corrects you once, and that’s it. But you remember.”
You responded, “It’s the way he talks. He never raises his voice, but you know when he means business.”
Ara smirked. “The ‘walk me through it’ line?”
You smiled faintly. “Exactly.”
“I swear, we’re running on caffeine and instinct at this point,” Jina muttered. “Mostly instinct,” you said. “Barely any caffeine left.” Ara sighed. “Two more hours. Let’s make it.” You all stood up slowly, the weariness showing in the way your bodies moved. No complaints, though.
Someone mentioned a patient needing to be checked on in the ICU, but no one asked who would go.
You were already moving.
🚑
Everyone looked like shit but the thing was, no one complained too much. Because this was real work. Messy, exhausting, nonstop and honestly, no one had time to be pretty at 4 AM. Jina was slouched in the nurse’s station chair. “If I die, make sure they clean my brows before the funeral.”
“You’re not dying,” Ara said. “You’re just decaying slowly.”
You leaned your head against the counter. “Why does this shift feel like three years?”
“Because it is,” Ara answered. “Time bends here.”
Someone was wheeling a portable vitals cart down the hallway with one squeaky wheel screaming for help. Another nurse was trying to untangle IV tubing. Then, Jungwon walked past.
Everyone straightened, not because he was scary in a mean way, but because, somehow, he made you want to be on your A-game. He wasn’t the type to raise his voice or humiliate anyone. He only had that stare. You weren’t feeling any fear. It was only respect… and fine, a lot more fear. Jina whispered, “I swear I saw four nurses almost break their necks earlier just watching him.” Then, you sighed, grabbed your tablet, stood up, and headed down the hall to follow up on a urine output. Another hour in the hospital.
🚑
You were replacing the ECG leads on Mr. Choi, the elderly patient in room 305, again, for the third time this week. He’d somehow peeled them halfway off while adjusting his pillow and now acted like the whole thing was a crime against his freedom. “They itch,” he grumbled, crossing his arms as you prepped new stickers. “They always itch, Mr. Choi,” you said, not looking up. “But you don’t pull them off unless you want a lecture and a delay in meds.”
“I wasn’t pulling, I was just adjusting.”
“Mmhmm,” you muttered, pressing the last lead down. “Try adjusting your expectations next time.” The monitor beeped back to normal. You were currently logging the change when footsteps approached. You didn’t have to look up. Jungwon stepped in, making a quick scan of the room. “What happened?”
“Monitor alarm. Leads were off,” you answered. “I reattached and checked his rhythm. Stable, Dr. Yang.”
Jungwon nodded once. “Noted. Thank you.” Then to Mr. Choi, “Please avoid touching anything connected to your heart.”
“I was itchy,” Mr. Choi replied while unfazed. Jungwon raised a brow but said nothing. Mr. Choi snorted and asked you something, acting as if Jungwon wasn’t still in the room. “He always like that?”
“Like what?”
Mr. Choi said, “Serious and stern. He looks like he hasn’t slept since med school.”
You shrugged while double-checking your chart. “He works harder than anyone here.”
“Still,” Mr. Choi leaned in slightly. “You two close?”
You gave him a confused look. “Close?”
Jungwon was already turning to leave when Mr. Choi piped up,
“Is he your boyfriend?”
Jungwon stopped walking for half a second, then glanced over his shoulder. “She has standards, Mr. Choi.” And with that, he walked out. You rolled your eyes, more at Mr. Choi than anyone else, as you adjusted the blanket over him. Mr. Choi chuckled. “I didn’t say he was a bad pick.”
You grabbed the used gauze wrappers off the tray. “You need sleep, not gossip.”
🚑
You walked alongside Jungwon. Both of you were fresh off the emergency. Then, “You didn’t hesitate,” Jungwon said after a while, eyes ahead, hands tucked into his coat pockets. “Your hands were steady.”
You responded. “Only because I wasn’t thinking. If I did, I’d probably pass out.”
“Still, you didn’t.” His voice wasn’t praising, though, and you could tell he was honest.
You glanced sideways at him. “I thought you were gonna snap when the interns froze.”
“I was too busy watching you fix it,” he replied, catching you off guard. You didn’t respond to that. Instead, you pushed the med room door open with your shoulder. Inside, a couple of nurses were slumped in chairs. You sank into the chair near the sink and muttered, “We all look like expired yogurt.” Someone snorted. “Speak for yourself. I’m aged cheese.”
Laughter broke out softly among the tired group. Mr. Choi, poked his head out from his door down the hall, despite clearly being told to stay inside and rest. His voice carried just enough. “Is he your boyfriend?” he asked, pointing a bony finger toward Jungwon, who was still standing and looking like he was re-running the code blue in his head. You rolled your eyes before anyone else could speak. “Mr. Choi, that’s Dr. Yang.”
But before you could add anything else, Jungwon glanced straight-faced and said, “That’d be inappropriate, Mr. Choi. She hasn’t even bought me dinner.” A few of the nurses choked on their drinks. You were more surprised than anything, but he was already walking off, as if he hadn’t just dropped a line like that mid-shift.
Mr. Choi gave you a smug little grin. “He’s funny. Keep that one.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose and muttered again, louder this time, “That’s Dr. Yang, Mr. Choi.”
You didn’t like to admit it, but fine. Dr. Yang was handsome. Everyone knew it. He had that put-together look that didn’t fade even after sixteen-hour shifts. Smart, obviously. Strict, but not in a way that made nurses cry in the break room. He never raised his voice. He never embarrassed anyone. He just had this way of watching, of waiting for you to catch your mistake, and that alone was enough to make your palms sweat. People either avoided eye contact or found excuses to hang around him. Neither was a good look. Not here, especially not when you were trying to survive the night without mislabeling another patient chart. Besides, it’s not like you saw him in any new light. You’d always known what he was like.
That didn’t mean you weren’t hyper-aware of how he had just made a joke… wait, was it really a joke? ugh, Dr. Yang is so unreadable.
You shook it off, reaching for the clipboard again.
🚑
You had been rushing. Everyone was. It was one of those nights where the ER felt like a war zone, and every second counted. You didn’t double-check the medication. You trusted the label and moved on, but it wasn’t the correct dose. And now, Mrs. Han was in respiratory distress.
The room was already tense. Monitors blared, voices raised, and people rushed around. Jungwon stepped in, glanced at the scene, and didn’t hesitate. Orders flew from his mouth. You followed them silently, your hands moving even as your stomach twisted. It wasn’t until after Mrs. Han had stabilized, wheeled off to the ICU, that it hit. The error. Your error.
You were the last one left in the trauma room, standing beside the cart, staring down at the vial.
“(Name).”
You turned. Jungwon was standing by the door.
“Walk me through it.”
You swallowed. “I-I grabbed the vial from the backup tray. I didn’t recheck the dosage. I thought it was-“ You shook your head. “I was wrong.” He didn’t interrupt. “I know I should’ve rechecked,” you finished. “I didn’t. That’s on me.” There was a long silence.
His eyes were unreadable. “Do you know what could’ve happened if we hadn’t caught it?”
You nodded.
“You’re lucky we were in a room full of capable staff,” he said. His voice wasn’t cold, though disappointment was obvious. “But next time, we might not be.” You looked down. “I don’t expect perfection,” he continued. “But I do expect care. And tonight, you were careless.” It stung. Not because he was yelling; he wasn’t. That would’ve been easier. But because he sounded like he meant every word, like he’d expected better from you and trusted better.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“I know,” he replied. “But don’t make me say this twice.” Then he turned and left, not slamming the door, not throwing a glance back. Gone because he had patients to check and didn’t have time to carry your guilt for you. You stood there longer, trying not to let it show on your face: frustration and shame. Then you squared your shoulders.
There was still a shift to finish.
🚑
You didn’t mean to cry. You told yourself you’d hold it together until the end of the shift. But after the adrenaline wore off, it hit you all at once. The weight of what happened and what could’ve happened. You found an empty supply room. No one ever checked here unless they were restocking. You slid down against the wall, hidden behind metal shelves stacked with gauze and tubing. Your shoulders shook before you realized you were crying.
You weren’t afraid of being scolded again. That already happened. You were worried that you’d become a nurse people didn’t want to work with. That Jungwon wouldn’t trust you again. The door creaked. You wiped your face quickly, seeing Jungwon, but it was useless. Your eyes were red. Your breath gave you away. He didn’t speak right away. Just stood at the entrance, silent, before gently closing the door behind him. “I figured I’d find you here,” Jungwon said.
You didn’t look up.
“I’m not hiding, Dr. Yang,” you muttered.
“I didn’t say you were.” He walked closer.
“I’m fine,” you added, quietly. He crouched down, not too close, enough so you wouldn’t have to raise your head to see him. “You made a mistake,” he said calmly. “And it scared you. That’s normal.” You didn’t reply. “I was hard on you,” he continued. “Because I know you’re better than that.” That made you look up at him, surprised. “If I thought you weren’t capable,” he said, “I wouldn’t have wasted my time.”
The tears started again silently, not because of the mistake, but because he still believed in you. He noticed. You could tell, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he stood up and reached for a box of gauze on the shelf. Pulled a piece from the sterile pack and handed it to you as if it were a tissue. You laughed barely as you took it and dabbed at your face. He didn’t smile, but his voice was gentler now.
“Come on. They’ll start thinking you passed out in here.”
You stood. As you opened the door, he paused beside you.
“(Name).”
You glanced up.
“I’m not giving up on you. Don’t give up on yourself.” Then, he walked away. You followed him out of the supply room minutes later, face wiped clean but eyes still swollen. You thought he’d already disappeared into his rounds, but when you turned the corner by the nurses’ station, he leaned slightly against the counter. He looked up the moment he heard your steps. He said, “Drink some water and eat something, if you can.” You gave a slight nod, ready to keep walking, but then he added, “If you’re not steady, I don’t trust you next to my patients.”
It was teasing, almost.
Was he…?
But before you could respond, he reached behind the desk and placed something on top. A granola bar. You stared at it. Then at him. “You carry snacks now?” you asked cautiously.
His lips curved upwards a little bit. “I carry them for nurses who forget to eat.” That wasn’t in the manual. That wasn’t part of any protocol. And suddenly, despite your pounding head and sore feet, you felt something, not from shame or pressure, but something else entirely. “Thank you,” you murmured. He gave a slight nod. And as you walked away, that granola bar in hand, you couldn’t help but think that perhaps you didn’t see him in the same light anymore.
Maybe… he didn’t see you the same, either.
🚑
It’s your day off. Yey!
You were halfway through reheating leftovers when your phone buzzed. An unknown number. You almost declined it, assuming the hospital admin asked if you could cover another shift because, of course, something told you to pick it up. “Hello?”
“It’s Jungwon.”
Your back straightened. You stared at your microwave as if it had betrayed you. “I got your number from admin,” he said, not even bothering with a greeting. “You left your ID. I figured you’d need it before your next shift.”
“Oh. Right,” you said. “Thanks, Dr. Yang. I didn’t notice.”
“You’re off today, aren’t you?”
“Yeah… I barely got out of bed.”
You could hear a street in the background. He wasn’t at the hospital.
“I’m passing near your neighborhood. You want me to drop it off?”
That was embarrassing. You almost said no. Almost. But you didn’t.
Ten minutes later, you opened your gate, and there was Jungwon in jeans and a jacket. Of course, his hair is still neat because even off-duty, the man probably came with auto-pressed laundry. You, on the other hand, looked like a glitch in the system. He handed the ID over. “Here. Try not to leave it next time. You’ll get locked out of med storage again.”
You took it, trying not to cringe too hard at how you probably smelled like instant noodle seasoning. “Thank you, Dr. Yang.”
He looked at you with a tinsy tiny bit of amusement. “You look like you lost a fight with sleep.”
You snorted. “Sleep won.”
He chuckled softly, then nodded toward the small garden beside your gate. “Nice plants.”
You did a sheepish smile. “They’re mostly dying.”
“Well, it’s still nice.” Then he stepped back. “See you on Monday.” Then he left.
🚑
You clocked in early. After last week, you weren’t about to give anyone a reason to question you again, especially not him. “Early,” came a voice behind you. You turned to see Jungwon standing a few steps away, watching you with that unreadable expression he always seemed to wear in the mornings.
You didn’t falter. “I had things to double-check.”
He nodded, stepping closer to glance at the tablet in your hand. “That’s good.”
You turned your attention to the patient notes again. And it’s as if he could read your mind. “We all make mistakes, but most people don’t take responsibility the way you did,” he continued. “That matters more than pretending to be perfect.”
Your throat felt tight, but you managed, “I don’t like being anyone’s disappointment.”
“You’re not,” he said. “Not to me.”
You didn’t respond. Well, you couldn’t, but something inside you loosened. You didn’t need to smile. He didn’t need to stay. He turned to go, but as he passed, he said. “I’ll see you on rounds.” And just like that, he was gone.
Mid-Morning Break.
You walked down the hallway with two other nurses, Suho and Mei, equally sleep-deprived. “My feet are about to give up,” Mei groaned, adjusting her ponytail. “I swear one more emergency, and I’m just gonna roll myself into a supply closet and nap.”
“You already did that last week,” Suho pointed out, bumping her with a shoulder.
“I wasn’t caught, was I?”
You smiled faintly, their banter pulling you out of your head. The conversation changed between patient updates and who had the worst shift this week. It was a tie between Suho nearly getting puked on and Mei assisting during a dislocated shoulder pop-in. Then Mei slowed her steps, nudging you lightly. “So,” she said, dragging out the word like a tease. “You and Dr. Yang?”
You look at her confused. “What?”
“Don’t play innocent,” Suho added. “He doesn’t talk to anyone like that. I’ve seen him reduce interns to dust with just a stare. But with you? I mean, that voice of his went down an octave.”
“Probably because he was giving feedback,” you muttered.
“Yeah, feedback with undertones,” Mei said, raising a brow. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t notice how he looks at you.”
You exhaled. “He’s strict. He’s focused. He’s not the type to flirt in the middle of a hospital.”
Mei laughed. “Maybe not the type to flirt but the type to admire.”
“Guys, it’s Dr. Yang,” you reminded them, emphasizing his title. “And we’re all professionals.”
“Sure,” Mei said, smug. “But don’t act surprised when he offers to ‘professionally walk you to the vending machine’ again.” You rolled your eyes but didn’t answer because no matter how much you told yourself not to think about it… You were.
🚑
You were reviewing the chart for Mr. Yoon’s post-op medication when Dr. Kim stormed in. He was loud, always had been, but today, he seemed on edge. “Nurse,” he barked, slapping a clipboard on the desk. “Why wasn’t Mrs. Han’s dressing changed on time? It’s written here that it was scheduled two hours ago.”
You momentarily were thrown off. “I- I was assisting Dr. Nam with Mr. Yoon’s complication. I had already prepped the materials for Mrs. Han, but I asked Jeongmin to-”
“Don’t pass the blame,” Dr. Kim snapped. “If you can’t keep up, maybe you shouldn’t be here. Patients don’t wait on excuses.” You clenched your jaw and swallowed your pride. You knew you worked hard, but it felt like your chest shrank right there in front of everyone. And then, like timing written into the day itself, a new voice cut in. More calm and instantly commanding. “Dr. Kim,” Jungwon said as he stepped into view. “I asked her to stay with Mr. Yoon.”
Dr. Kim stiffened. “That’s not relevant to-”
“It is,” Jungwon interrupted. “He was crashing. She stabilized him. I’m the one who pulled her from the schedule. If you have a problem, bring it up with me.” The whole station went quiet. Damn. Dr. Kim mumbled something about “communication” before turning and walking off, still grumbling under his breath. You stayed frozen for a second. Then you turned to look at Jungwon.
“Thanks,” you said. You could feel the heat crawling up your neck.
“I told you,” he said. “You care. You make the right calls. That matters.” You gave a weak nod. He looked at you for another second. Then: “Don’t skip water just because you’re busy.”
“Huh?”
He held out a paper cup. “Coffee machine’s still broken.” You took it without protest. Then he turned, walking off without another word. And though people surrounded you, somehow, the only thing you noticed was that paper cup in your hand.
🚑
You’d finally clocked out, hands still smelling faintly of alcohol swabs, and your back sore from standing too long. You opened your locker slowly, half-asleep, when a soft knock at the door made you turn. It was Jungwon. He didn’t walk in fully. His hair looked a little messy; clearly, he hadn’t gotten a chance to rest. “I figured you were still here,” he said. How was he able to know where you are every time?
You tried not to look too startled. “Yeah… decompressing.”
He nodded once. “Me too.” Then he stepped forward, holding out something in a napkin.
You squinted. “What’s that?”
“A red bean bun. They were giving them out in Pediatrics. I grabbed one. Then grabbed another one. I don’t know why.” He shrugged, setting it down near your things. “Thought maybe you’d want one. He continued, “You were good today.”
You let out a half-scoff. “I almost got chewed out again, Dr. Yang.”
“And you still stood your ground,” he replied. “That’s why I said good.” His voice wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t overly kind, either. It was sure like he believed it completely.
You didn’t mean to, but your eyes watched him a little longer this time. You always thought of him as composed, brilliant, slightly intimidating but right now… he only looked human. Tired, real. “Thank you,” you said quietly.
He gave a faint smile. “Eat then go home.” And as he turned, he added without looking back, “You always forget to take care of yourself. Don’t make me keep reminding you.”
The door swung shut behind him.
🚑
The breakroom felt alive for once. Eyebags and half-buttoned uniforms didn’t stop the nurses laughing like it was payday. You sat slouched between Jina and Ara, poking at a plastic-wrapped sandwich you weren’t planning to eat. The three of you had just finished a rough rotation. “Okay, but tell me the truth,” Ara whispered loudly. “Would you say yes if Dr. Yang ever asked you out?”
You groaned, “Don’t. Ask. Don’t start.”
Jina snorted into her mug. “You didn’t even deny it.”
“I’m tired,” you deadpanned, dragging your hand down your face. “This is harassment.” You continued, “He’s literally right there,” you added through clenched teeth, glancing toward the corner where Dr. Yang was washing his hands post-surgery, sleeves rolled. He looked like a health campaign poster. Unfortunately, Jina smirked. “Watch this.”
“Dr. Yang!” Ara called sweetly across the room.
You nearly slammed your forehead on the table. “I swear if you say-”
“If someone like her asked you out,” Jina said, jerking her thumb at you, “would you say yes?”
The room went silent. Jungwon dried his hands calmly. “I don’t date coworkers.”
You exhaled through your nose. “Exactly. See?” you muttered.
He turned, tossed the towel aside, and added coolly, “But I never said I wouldn’t make an exception.”
The breakroom erupted.
“OH MY GO-”
“Okay, but WHAT-”
“I need air-”
Ara threw a pillow across the table. Jina screamed. You stared blankly ahead. “Unprofessional,” you muttered, cheeks burning, but the smile tugging at your lips said otherwise.
🚑
You were eating out with Dr. Yang.
Yeah. You read that right.
You were sitting across from Dr. Yang Jungwon, chopsticks in hand, in some little restaurant that he, of all people, apparently knew about. He was the same man everyone in the hospital either feared, admired, or had an embarrassing crush on. Now here he was, casually dipping grilled meat into sauce like he hadn’t just invited you out.
Okay, don’t look at me like that. I know what this looks like. But you don’t get to judge me. It’s Dr. Yang, hello?
You cleared your throat, forcing your eyes to stay on your plate. “I still think this is kind of… inappropriate.”
He didn’t even stutter. “Inappropriate?”
You nodded. “We work together.”
He shrugged. “We’re not in work right now. We’re off-duty. Technically, we’re just two people eating dinner.”
You tried not to roll your eyes. “Do you always say stuff that conveniently works in your favor, Dr. Yang?”
Jungwon smiled, a little smug. “Only when I want to make a point.”
You tried to hide the way your heart was beating so fast. This man. This frustrating, composed, dangerously intelligent man. You poked at your rice. “Just to be clear, this is friendly dinner. Not a date.”
He met your eyes. “Sure.” And then, right as you sipped your drink, he added, “Unless you want it to be.”
You nearly choked.
“Dr. Yang-.”
“It’s Dr. Yang on duty,” he said. “But right now? It’s Jungwon.”
SHITTT. You hated how warm your face felt, but couldn’t even deny it anymore. This man was dangerous. You leaned back in your seat. “You know…” You began, “You’re always so hard to read.”
Jungwon raised an eyebrow, sipping his water. “Am I?”
“Mmhmm,” you nodded, tapping your chopsticks against your bowl. “So tell me then. What were your thoughts on me?”
“The first time we met?”
“Yeah.”
He set his glass down slowly. “You were…fast.”
“Fast?”
“Quick on your feet. Quicker with your mouth,” he said with his lips twitching. “I thought you were a bit arrogant.”
You gave him a look. “That’s rich coming from you.” Which, to your surprise, he laughed. Woah. That was the first time you’ve seen him laugh like this. “But,” he added, “I also saw how you handled that mess on the third floor. I remember thinking, ‘Okay… she’s not just talk.’”
You raised a brow. “So you didn’t like me.”
“I didn’t know you,” he replied. “But I was curious.”
You paused for a moment. “And now?”
He didn’t answer right away. He properly looked at you. Not in the way people do when thinking of the correct answer, but he already knew it and was deciding if he should say it aloud. “Now I think I want to know more.”
You stirred your iced drink lazily.
“I used to think you were married,” you said out of nowhere.
Jungwon looked up from his plate. “Really?”
You nodded. “Yeah. When I first met you years ago.”
He tilted his head. “Why?”
You shrugged. “You walked around like someone with a ring on his finger. You look like you have a family waiting at home.” Jungwon let out a low chuckle and answered. “That’s one way to describe me.”
“Well,” you added, smirking slightly, “I was wrong. Obviously.”
He leaned back in his seat. “So what else did you assume about me back then?”
You took a sip of your drink. “I thought you were distant. The type who wouldn’t remember anyone’s name unless they were on your level.”
He was amused. “That bad, hm?”
“But,” you said, letting the words slow down, “then I watched you work. The way you talk to patients’ families. The way you don’t raise your voice when you’re mad… And you always back up the people, even when no one’s around to see it.”
His eyes were on you. “So what do you think of me now?”
You matched his tone. “I think you’re nothing like I assumed.”
He smiled. “And you? I assumed you were all walls. Smart, yes. Efficient but distant.”
You looked at him.
“And now?”
He shrugged gently. “Now I know better.” He picked up his drink again, eyes not leaving yours. “You know,” he said, “you surprised me too.”
You tilted your head. “How so?”
“At first, I thought you hated me,” he admitted. “You never smiled when I passed by. You were always busy avoiding eye contact.”
“That’s called being professional,” you shot back with a small laugh.
“Mm,” he hummed. “That, or you were trying really hard not to fall for me.”
You choked. “Excuse me?”
He leaned in just slightly, wearing that maddeningly calm expression of his. “It’s only a theory. No judgment.”
You were trying to play it cool. “Your ego’s showing, Jungwon.”
He smiled. “Perhaps or probably I’m finally saying what we’ve both been thinking.” You opened your mouth to argue, maybe to deny it, maybe not, but the waitress arrived with dessert, breaking the moment. He picked up his spoon, but his eyes didn’t leave you, and just before digging in, he said, “But if I’m wrong… you’re free to prove me wrong next time. Over dinner again.”
You stared at him, unsure whether to laugh, blush, or throw your spoon at him. All three, probably.
Dr. Yang, your foot. This man was trouble.
It has been a few, maybe longer, minutes. You were halfway through your dessert, still mentally reeling from Jungwon’s earlier comment, when a hacking cough cracked. You looked up, and just a few tables away, a woman clutched at her throat, her face already beginning to swell. Her husband jumped from his seat, panic in his eyes. “Help! Someone, please! My wife- she’s having an allergic reaction!” he shouted, knocking his chair over.
Your spoon clattered onto your plate. Jungwon was already standing. Without a word, you followed. The moment snapped both of you into motion. You weren’t just a nurse, and he wasn’t just a surgeon. You were trained professionals. This was instinct. “Do you have an EpiPen?” Jungwon asked immediately, crouching beside the woman.
“N-No,” the man stammered. “She didn’t know-this hasn’t happened before-”
“Call an ambulance,” you told him. “Now.” Her breathing was wheezing now, hands clawing at her throat. You gently eased her back against the booth seat while Jungwon checked her pulse, his voice calm. “We need antihistamines,” he muttered. “Fast. See if the staff has a first-aid kit.”
You ran to the counter, flashed your ID, and barked quick instructions. By the time you returned with the kit and a rushed dose of diphenhydramine, Jungwon had her stabilized as best he could, loosening her collar, elevating her legs slightly, keeping her from collapsing into unconsciousness.
You administered the antihistamine carefully. She was still gasping, but the panic in her eyes had softened. The ambulance sirens wailed in the distance. Jungwon kept speaking softly to her, assuring her she would be okay. And when the EMTs finally arrived and loaded her into the stretcher, the husband turned to both of you, breathless and shaking. “Thank you. Oh god, thank you so much.”
You nodded, brushing your hair back, heart still pounding from the adrenaline. When the commotion cleared, Jungwon looked over at you. “You were quick,” he said.
You exhaled. “You were calmer than I thought you’d be outside the OR.”
He smiled faintly. “We’re not just good in scrubs, apparently.”
The restaurant had returned to calm after the chaos. You sat back down at the table across from Jungwon, now half-empty, the plates barely touched. He was quiet, and so were you. “Are you alright?” he asked, pulling you back from your thoughts.
You nodded. “Yeah…a little surreal.”
“That’s the thing about emergencies,” he murmured, looking out toward the restaurant doors where the paramedics had wheeled the woman out. “They don’t care if you’re on a day off.”
You gave a soft laugh. “Guess we never really clock out.”
He folded his arms. “Seems like fate has a cruel sense of humor. Just when I thought I might get through dinner without someone collapsing.”
“Dinner,” you repeated. The dessert was melting into the plate now. “Right. This was supposed to be… normal.” Before he could reply, a paramedic re-entered the restaurant, scanning the tables until their eyes landed on him. “Dr. Yang?” they said, half-breathless.
Jungwon stood. “Is she stable?”
“She’s responding to treatment now. We’re monitoring her vitals en route. Allergic to shellfish. First time reaction. You saved her life, sir.”
“And the nurse,” Jungwon added, glancing at you. “She helped just as much.”
You nodded politely, still seated, feeling your ears grow warm under their praise. The paramedic smiled. “I didn’t expect to see you outside the hospital. I’ll, uh… let admin know you intervened. They’ll probably want to document it.”
“Of course,” Jungwon said with a light sigh. “No such thing as off-duty, I guess.”
With one last salute of gratitude, they left. Then it was just the two of you again, in the now strangely quiet restaurant corner. You broke it. “Sorry,” you said, half-laughing. “I think I cursed this night.”
“Don’t apologize,” he replied smoothly. “You handled that better than most would. You didn’t hesitate.”
You shrugged. “It just kicked in. Probably out of habit.”
He tilted his head. “Instinct. That’s not something you teach. That’s something you are.” He added. “And for the record… it was still a nice dinner.”
You glanced at him. “Even if it ended with chaos?”
He smirked faintly. “Of course. It proves I picked the right person to spend it with.”
“You didn’t pick,” you teased a little. “You cornered me in the hallway and guilted me into eating on our day off.”
“And yet,” he countered, “you didn’t say no.”
You gave him a look. “That’s not fair.”
He smiled at you. “It’s not untrue, either.” You glanced around the restaurant again. Everything had settled into normal again, but your heart hadn’t. You looked back at Jungwon, sitting across from you, his usual professionalism softened enough that it unsettled you in the best way. He didn’t look away. “You know, you’re too pretty for your own good.”
That shut you up.
You stared at him.
He was already smiling, already reaching for the check. “You still want coffee?” he asked. “Or should we call it a night and let the world surprise us again tomorrow?”
You said, “Let’s see if the next emergency lets us finish a cup first.” And with that, the two of you stood and left.
🚑
The rain hadn’t let up all morning; strangely, neither had your luck. It was supposed to be a quick errand. A quick stop, and then home, but fate never warned you before it turned cruel. The screech of tires. And then-
Nothing.
A blur of sirens and panic. Then suddenly, darkness.
…
Back at the hospital, the very one you called your second home, the emergency doors slammed open. “She’s one of ours!” a nurse cried, rushing alongside the gurney. “It’s her- it’s (Name)!” Chaos was everywhere in the ER. A resident dropped her clipboard. A tech gasped. The head nurse’s hands flew to her mouth.
“She was hit near the corner by the pharmacy. Driver ran a red light,” the paramedic reported quickly as they wheeled you in, blood already staining the sheet beneath you. Then someone whispered, “Has Dr. Yang been told?” They didn’t have to wait long.
Because Jungwon came running.
His coat wasn’t even fully on. His tie was loose, his ID still dangling from his collar. The moment he saw your face. Bruised, unconscious, and barely breathing, his expression collapsed. “No- what happened?!” he demanded, eyes scanning every inch of you.
“Dr. Yang, you need to stand back,” one of the surgeons said, placing a hand on his chest.
“She’s going into surgery,” another voice called. “Internal bleeding. We need the OR now.”
“I’ll go in,” Jungwon said instinctively, reaching for gloves, but a hand gripped his arm. “You can’t,” said Dr. Nam, one of the senior staff.
“What?” Jungwon snapped, not even trying to hide the shake in his voice.
“You’re too involved.”
“She’s a nurse!” he shot back. “She’s my nurse-”
“Exactly,” Nam said quietly. “You care too much. You know the protocol. You know what it risks- your judgment, her outcome.” Jungwon’s jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving you as your unconscious body was wheeled toward the OR. “She needs me.”
“She needs a surgeon with a clear head,” Nam said gently but firmly, and it broke him. He didn’t argue again. He was rooted in place, his hands curled into fists, watching the doors close. All he could do was watch.
🚑
In the hallway, time didn’t pass. Jungwon sat slumped against the wall. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Every time someone walked by, he looked up, hoping. And all he could hear was the last thing you’d said to him, two days ago over dinner:
“Let’s see if the next emergency lets us finish a cup first.”
Now here you were unconscious. On the other side, he couldn’t cross, and for the first time in his life, Jungwon felt utterly powerless. And completely terrified of losing you.
The clock ticked. Hours bled into each other. Jungwon sat just outside the operating wing. His elbows were resting on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair. His white coat was discarded somewhere, forgotten. He wasn’t wearing his pager. He wasn’t in rounds. He wasn’t answering calls. The nurses knew better than to ask.
Dr. Yang, poised and always on time, was now the man who hadn’t moved in three hours. He hadn’t eaten. He hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t blinked when your bloodied ID badge slipped from a nurse’s tray and landed near his feet.
He picked it up, his fingers closing around it as if it were made of glass. Your picture was still perfect. “You should rest, Dr. Yang,” someone whispered. He didn’t look up. “Do you want something warm? You haven’t moved-”
“I’m fine.”
He wasn’t.
A clipboard fell behind the station; he flinched. One of the interns passed by and muttered, “Isn’t that Dr. Yang? Why’s he just-”
“Shut up,” A nurse hissed. “That’s her. The nurse he-”
Everyone knew. Jungwon stared ahead, eyes bloodshot, skin pale from stress and cold. The man who held steady during surgeries and cardiac arrests was now coming apart at the seams, silently. Every second he waited, he replayed everything. The way your smile looked over coffee. Your voice teasing him. And now… Now you were behind a door he couldn’t open.
Please wake up.
Please stay with me.
Please don’t let this be the end before we even began.
🚑
“Dr. Yang,” came the voice he barely registered. Jungwon didn’t look up at first. He was still sitting in the same spot. His leg had bounced unconsciously for the last half hour. “Jungwon.”
He finally glanced up. It was Dr. Nam, his colleague, and more importantly, someone who knew him well enough to speak past the professional wall he always wore. Nam’s face softened when he saw the state Jungwon was in. “They stabilized her. Surgery was a success.”
“She’s okay?”
“She’s not awake yet. But she made it,” Nam said. “She’s in recovery. I thought you’d want to-” Jungwon stood up so fast before he could even finish. His hand trembled slightly as he pushed the hair out of his eyes. The color returned to his face in waves. “You can go in,” Nam said gently. “Only one visitor. The nurses know.”
He didn’t say thank you. He couldn’t.
Jungwon was already walking.
The heart monitor beeped steadily. You were there, pale against the hospital sheets, an IV in your arm, your breathing soft and even. The oxygen mask fogged slightly with each exhale. Jungwon stopped at the door. He wasn’t prepared. He swallowed hard and stepped inside. Then, his knees gave in. He bent beside your bed, one hand grabbing the rail for support, the other reaching finally to hold yours. His forehead dropped to your hand, his shoulders shaking as the tears came. “You scared me,” he whispered, voice breaking. “You stupid, reckless…-you.” He pressed his lips to the back of your hand and held it there. “Don’t do that again. Don’t ever make me feel like that again.”
He laughed bitterly, brushing away a tear with the heel of his palm. “You haven’t even woken up, and I’m already lecturing you.” He stayed there, crouched beside you, refusing to let go. The strong, untouchable Dr. Yang is now just a man breaking beside the person he was so close to losing.
🚑
You woke up slowly, blinking against the lights. The scent of antiseptic and the distant sound of chatter told you exactly where you were, but you didn’t remember how you got here. Then you turned your head. Jungwon was there.
Slumped in the hospital chair. His hair was pushed back messily, seemingly where he’d run his hands through it too many times. His coat was folded over the armrest, and an untouched paper cup of coffee was sitting on the small table near him. He hadn’t noticed you were awake yet. He looked… tired. No, worn out. So you spoke first, voice scratchy.
“Shouldn’t you be working?”
His head shot up immediately. His eyes met yours and just for a moment, they widened. Then came a breath of relief. An almost whispered-
“You’re awake.”
He stood.
“…you’re truly awake.”
You tried to smile, though your face barely moved. “I was out that long?”
He didn’t answer right away. He just sat beside you and shook his head slowly. “You scared the hell out of me.” You glanced at him, his dark circles, the crease between his brows, the exhausted worry in his eyes, and mustered a dry joke. “You look terrible.”
He huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Everyone’s said that.” Then he leaned forward. “But I’m not the one who almost…” He didn’t finish the sentence.
You swallowed softly. You could see it now, all the weight he’d been carrying while you were unconscious. “I thought you’d be the type to keep calm under pressure,” you teased.
He smiled faintly. “I am unless it’s you.” Your breath caught, but he carefully reached out and took your hand before you could say anything. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “Don’t do that again,” he whispered. “Don’t make me wait like that again.”
🚑
You’d been back to your shifts, back to the same elevator dings. People still gave you longer glances than usual. It’s not every day a nurse almost dies in the middle of her day off and ends up back in her hospital bed. But things were starting to feel normal again or something like it. It was late. Most of the lights on the floor had dimmed, save for the nurse’s station and the glow from a few patient monitors. Finally, you were done with your rounds and just about to log out when Jungwon showed up by the lockers. It looks like he’d been waiting. “Shift ended?” he asked.
“Ten minutes ago,” you replied, tugging your ID off. “You?”
He nodded. “Technically, but I stayed.”
You gave him a look. “Why?”
He hesitated, then said, “Thought I’d walk you out.”
“Seriously?” You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Yeah.” He shrugged a little. “Hospitals look different at night.” So you walked past the pharmacy, through the hallway with the vending machines, and then out the staff exit where the breeze was gentle and the parking lot half-empty. “Are you alright?” he asked as the two of you stood by the bike rack, neither in a rush to leave.
“Yeah,” you said softly. “I’m back.”
He looked over at you. “Back, but you’ve been different.”
You raised a brow. “How?”
Jungwon hesitated. “You’re more careful with your words.”
You looked away. Maybe you were.
“You, too,” you said.
He smiled. “I have something I’ve been holding back. Protocol says I probably shouldn’t say it,” he added. “But I’ve been thinking about you before the accident and after.” You turned to him slowly. “I don’t want to make things weird,” he continued. “And I know we’re not supposed to… cross lines, but whatever happened that day, when I thought I might lose you, it made it pretty clear I’d regret not saying anything.”
“…You’re not making things weird,” you said.
He looked up at you. “No?”
You shook your head. “Scary.”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Terrifying.” Then he spoke again. “You know, Nam’s been asking if we’re seeing each other.”
You raised a brow. “And what did you say?”
“That if we are, we’re both incredibly good at pretending we’re not, and if we’re not, maybe we should stop pretending we don’t want to.”
You sighed. “This place has a lot of rules.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “That’s why I’m not asking for anything messy. Only clarity.”
“You’re doing this here?” you said while looking around.
He shrugged. “Would’ve done it over dinner, but someone already agreed to that and didn’t seem to regret it.”
🚑
It didn’t happen in a moment with fireworks, or a sudden realization under a rainy sky. No. It happened calmly and quietly, like most things between you and Jungwon did. You were both sitting in the lounge during a lull, not technically on break, but not in a rush to move. Your legs were folded on the couch, a tablet in your lap. Jungwon sat across from you, reviewing a report, hair slightly messy from hours in the OR. You glanced at him. “You know you could sit here, right?”
He looked up. “You mean next to you?”
“Unless you’re afraid of proximity.”
He chuckled, stood, and made his way over. “Is this one of those times,” he murmured, “where we pretend we’re not already something?”
You tilted your head toward him. “Depends. What are we?”
He glanced at you with a slight smile on his lips. “I think I’d like to stop pretending we’re not together.”
You look at him a little surprised. “That simple?” you asked.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” he replied. “Unless you want it to be.”
You looked down at your hands for a second. “You’re not worried? About the hospital. About how it’ll look?”
“I’ve thought about all of that,” he said. “And I still want you.” It’s been years of tension, glances, late-night shifts, near misses, and unspoken feelings. So you nodded, which made him smile. Jungwon put his hand on top of yours. “So, you’re my girlfriend now, right?” he said.
You scoffed, but your smile betrayed you. “If you’re going to act like that, I might change my mind.”
He leaned back on the couch with one arm lazily draped behind you. “It’s too late. I already mentally updated your name in my phone.” You nudged him gently with your shoulder. You were his and he was yours. Simple as that. Even in a hospital full of rules, something between you had finally gotten its own space.
🚑
You were both jotting notes outside patient rooms. The hall was full of chatter, but it was clear that no one interrupted when it was you and Dr. Yang. He glanced sideways at you, but you caught it. You always did. “You missed lunch,” he said while his eyes never left the file in his hand.
“So did you,” you muttered back.
“I’ll ask the cafeteria to send something up,” he replied as if he hadn’t done it for you three days in a row.
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t ask.”
You allowed yourself the faintest smile. Behind you, two new residents whispered in awe.
“They’re so-like-is that even allowed?”
“They don’t even act like a couple, but also? You feel it.” Someone else chimed in, “That’s the Dr. Yang. You think anyone’s gonna tell him who he can or can’t date?”
And no, no one ever did. You stood beside him in the conference room later that day as he presented a case to the department heads. His voice didn’t change when he quoted your observation. There was no favoritism and no tells, but when the meeting ended, as everyone went out, Jungwon stayed. “You handled that case well,” he said softly, packing his laptop.
You raised a brow. “Professional compliment?”
He glanced up. “Strictly professional.”
Then, he added: “Come over later.”
“To your place?” you asked.
“Where else would my pretty girlfriend go?”
You whispered, “We have early rounds tomorrow.”
“Then come early.”
After that, he walked off.
Why does he always get to walk off after ending a conversation with smooth lines?
🚑
Later that evening, you stood in his apartment. He walked over and set a glass of water beside you, then stood before you, hands bracing the counter on either side of your hips. “You look tired,” he murmured.
“I am.”
“You should lie down.”
You looked up at him. “So should you.”
Jungwon gave a dry laugh. “Are you suggesting we both rest?” In which you leaned forward, and he met you halfway. His lips pressed to yours. A few slow kisses here and there. He pulled back, “I missed this,” he said quietly. “Even when you’re right next to me at work… It’s not the same.”
Your voice was soft. “I know, but we can’t afford to slip. Not there.”
“No,” he agreed, “but here? I can love you as much as I want.” You closed your eyes and kissed again, deeper this time. The closeness contrasts with how far you kept apart during the day. No one else got this version of him, and you had it.
🚑
You were the only one left at the nurses’ station. Your fingers moved slower with every letter you typed into the patient charting system. Most of the night shift hadn’t made it in and was short-staffed again. You didn’t even bother complaining. What was the point?
You tried to focus, but your eyelids felt like sandbags. “Why are you still here?” a familiar voice asked gently behind you. You didn’t even turn; you knew it was him. You shook your head. “Don’t start. We’re two nurses down. I couldn’t just walk out.” You felt him step closer, then saw a hand reach around you to press the ‘Save’ button on your screen. The screen dimmed.
“Charting can wait.”
You finally looked up. Jungwon was there with his clean coat. He looked at you like you were the only thing in this building that mattered. “I don’t want you pushing yourself to burnout.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Touché,” he said with a smirk.
You let your head fall against his body as he moved behind your chair, gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You exhaled, closing your eyes for just a second. “I didn’t even realize I was this tired,” you whispered.
“I did.” He kissed the top of your head.
You smiled weakly. “This is inappropriate.”
“Then fire me.”
You let out a tired breath. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you.”
He squeezed your shoulders gently. “That makes two of us.”
🚑
You and Jungwon walked side by side, hands intertwined, his thumb caressing over your knuckles occasionally. It was one of the rare nights you both got off early, and you made a promise not to talk about the hospital. For tonight, you were just two people in love. “I still can’t believe we’ve made it this far without anyone forcing us to do another 48-hour shift,” you joked softly.
Jungwon chuckled. “Don’t jinx it. Someone from scheduling might be hiding behind that hotdog cart.” You laughed. Then-
“Help! Please! Someone help!”
Your head turned at the same time. A small crowd had started to form near a bench just across the street. A woman was kneeling beside someone collapsed on the ground, panic rising in her voice.
You looked at Jungwon. He was already looking at you. There was no hesitation and no words. The two of you took off in sync, cutting through the street. Your heels hit pavement hard, your heart already in nurse mode. Someone stepped back to give space as you and Jungwon moved in. You slid down to your knees beside him, checking for vitals while Jungwon crouched opposite you. “Mid-50s,” he murmured quickly. “Breathing?”
“Yeah. Weak pulse. His skin’s clammy, might’ve triggered a vasovagal response,” you said, lifting his legs to restore blood flow. “Could’ve been pain or standing too long.”
“He’s coming to,” Jungwon said after a few moments. “Eyes fluttering.” The man stirred, groaning lowly. You leaned in. “You fainted, sir. Don’t sit up yet.”
When it was clear the man was stable and help was on the way, you and Jungwon stood. He looked at you, chest rising and falling. His hand reached instinctively for yours again. You took it. “Didn’t we say no work talk tonight?” you said with a tired smile.
“I didn’t say anything,” he replied. “You’re the one who ran first.” You rolled your eyes, your fingers tightened around his. Then, he looked at you as he always did.
You were the one thing in this world he never wanted to lose.
