𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 . . . ★ do hyeongsik (the winning try) x nurseassistant!reader
𝙬𝙘 . . . ★ 3k
𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 . . . ★ fluff, romance
𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 . . . ★ when you—a college student-turned nurse’s assistant at hanyang high school discovers a pattern of patching up the same person over and over again—do hyeongsik, the rugby team’s hotheaded captain with bruised knuckles and an even worse temper. what started as “accidents” turned into silly excuses, and a boy learning how to slow down instead of fighting. as graduation approaches and injuries stop being a reason to meet, he realizes he doesn’t want to see you because he’s hurt—he wants to see you because of you.
𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙥 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 . . .★ i suck at titles oml. just realized i also had shit ton of grammatical errors in my last fic since i rarely double check my work 😭 pls ignore them for now. reader is 20 and he is 18 in this.
the first thing you learned about being in a sports high school was how noisy it could be sometimes.
it hums when you're not doing anything. you hear footsteps thudding down hallways long after class, whistles slicing through the air, laughter and groans, and the sharp crack of bodies colliding somewhere in the school field.
when you signed up to be a nurse’s assistant for university credit, you imagine clipboards, ice packs, and the gentle rhythm of checking temperatures. you wouldn't imagine the noise to settle into your bones like its their second home.
physically, you’re twenty now—still learning how to carry yourself like an adult, still counting semesters and credits. but mentally, you're still the same teenager from high school trying to find your place in this world.
the nurse's office of hanyang sports high school smells like antiseptic and sweat after a long day of patching students (sometimes teachers) up. the office sat right next to the school's main staircase, where the windows rattle every time students passed.
you do like the quiet moments when the nurse steps out for meetings, errands, or to deal with endless paperworks—and the office instantly becomes yours. just you, the hum of the ac, and the belief that being gentle to people can still be useful.
your thoughts were quickly interrupted when the door was roughly slid open, revealing a familiar figure dragging a student with him. you quickly recognized the figure to be coach ju, coach of the school's rugby team.
their voices rang instantly as they entered. coach ju's sounded intense and upset, and the boy's weak replies in a tone you could only sense as mild frustration.
you've heard about the miracle that happened to the rugby team just a year ago—how one match had saved the entire team from disbanding. it also earned their first win after almost a decade of their losing streak. it was astonishing, to say the least.
"i told you to not provoke him but—"
"well, he started first! he shouldn't say that unless he wants to—"
his words were cut off as coach ju grabbed him by the back of his jersey and pushed him towards the examination bed.
“sit. down.”
the boy stumbled forward, shoes scuffing against the floor and nearly knocking into the bed. he caught himself at the last second, jaw clenched and shoulders tight with barely restrained anger.
“i said i'm fine,” he snapped, trying to pull away. “it was nothing.”
but still coach ju doesn’t let go.
“nothing,” he repeats flatly, yanking him closer. “you got into a fight again. after i told you—what did i tell you?”
the boy looked away. “to ignore them.”
“did you?”
that question silenced him, and he didn't press on it any further.
you took a closer look at him and finally made out who he was—do hyeongsik, captain of the rugby team. you've seen him several times during monday assemblies but never actually interacted with him nor the rest of the team. you knew about his behaviour from the other teachers—"a hotheaded boy, undeserved of the captain title," you hear them describe him on one occasion.
upon observing him further, you noticed his broad shoulders, jersey smeared with dirt. his hair was damp with sweat and clung to his forehead—that's not the point though, the split on his lip that’s already swelling wasn't hard to go by unnoticed.
hyeongsik noticed you then.
his eyes flickered towards you, sharp and guarded. something in his expression faltered after.
you didn’t looked like a teacher nor a coach. you had a soft cardigan over your blouse, id lanyard hung slightly crooked and some loose baby hairs from being tied. you looked well put, the exact opposite of him.
“seunghee isn’t here?” coach ju asked, suddenly breaking the ice.
“she stepped out for a meeting,” you said quickly, bowing your head slightly. “that's what i'm here for. i can help.”
hyeongsik scoffed. “i don’t need help.”
coach ju shot him a glare. “you need to stop talking,” and turned back to you. “if you don’t mind.”
“not at all,” you replied, calm and steady.
coach ju crossed his arms, watching closely.
“well then, i’ll be outside. if he troubles you, just yell for me through the window.”
you laughed. "noted."
he then finally turned and left the room, the door slid shut behind him—leaving you and hyeongsik alone.
the office fell silent. for a moment, neither of you spoke until you moved to grab the necessary supplies. the boy carefully followed your movements like a hawk. you then set your supplies down after sitting at a nearby stool.
“can you tell me where it hurts?”
hyeongsik pursed his lips, then extended his bruised knuckles to you.
"lip. knuckles.”
you nodded and got to work immediately, cleaning the split on his lip first. your hands were warm, movements slow and precise. he braced for the pain that never comes. instead, there’s only a faint sting—barely enough to register—followed by something softer. your thumb steadied his chin without pressing as if you’re afraid of hurting him even more than he already has.
while you were focused on carefully cleaning his lip (and making sure it doesn't hurt as much), hyeongsik watched you in silence—eyes almost sparkling when you work on your fingers.
then you paused. he blinked.
“…that’s it?” he muttered.
you glanced up at him, amused. “did you want it to hurt?”
he scoffed quietly. “most people don’t care if it does.”
your brows knitted just slightly, but you didn’t comment on it. you finished cleaning the cut up, then reached for a small strip of sterile tape.
“hold still,” you said, voice low.
he does, completely still.
you leaned in again, close enough that he sees the faint crease between your brows when you focused and the way your lashes casted soft shadows against your cheeks. he realized distantly, that you smelt like soap and something floral—no overpowering smells, just clean and comforting.
when you pressed the tape into place, your fingers accidentally brushed his skin again. he swallowed thickly.
“okay,” you murmured. “that should heal nicely.”
you pulled back and only then did he realized how tense he’s been. his shoulders dropped slightly, breath leaving him in a slow exhale he didn’t know he was holding all this time.
your attention shifted to his hands. “now, let me see your knuckles.”
he hesitated for a second.
they were swollen—reddish with bruises already blooming beneath the skin. proof of his anger. proof of him losing control on the field.
slowly, he extended them toward you.
you cradled one hand gently, as if it’s fragile instead of dangerous. your fingers were smaller than his, but they're steady and confident in a way that didn't challenged him. you turned his hand slightly, examining each bruises and each shallow cut.
“this one’s going to be sore,” you said softly. “did you iced it?”
he shook his head. “didn’t have time.” which you could only hum in disapproval. there wasn't sharpness in it, only concern.
as you cleaned his knuckles, he flinched—just once, barely perceptible but you noticed immediately.
“sorry,” you said, pausing. “did i hurt you?”
he stiffened. "no.”
you didn’t argue. instead, you slowed down and adjusted your grip, using less pressure. your thumb traced a careful path around the bruise instead of over it, like you’re mapping something precious.
he continued to watch you. he watched the way you leaned closer without realizing, the way your lips pressed together when you concentrate. no one has treated his injuries like they mattered—even the nurse. usually it’s quick—rough hands, sharp words and reminders to toughen up.
but this was different.
“…you’re good at this,” he said quietly.
you smile at that, small and almost shy. “well, it's my job.”
he lets out a soft, breathless laugh. “yeah. i noticed.”
you finished wrapping his knuckles and securing the bandage snugly but not too tight.
“try not to use it too much,” you said. “and avoid hitting anything or anyone.”
his lips twitched. “i’ll try.”
you finally let his hand go.
he then cleared his throat, standing a little too quickly. “i, uh… thanks."
“anytime,” you replied easily.
as hyeongsik heads for the door, he paused, glancing back at you—really looking this time.
something in his chest ached, unfamiliar feelings.
you didn't know it yet, but this won’t be the last time he finds an excuse to get hurt.
and it definitely won’t be the last time he comes to see you.
you didn't notice it at first.
sure, the first time hyeongsik visited was an unfortunate accident, something that happened purely because he couldn't handle his temper.
but then the second visit came quickly—barely two days later but this time, with another bruised knuckle.
then again with a twisted ankle.
then again with a shallow cut on his forearm that doesn't quite line up with the story he tells you.
"and you're telling me i'm supposed to believe that happened?"
you said, looking at hyeongsik for the nth time that week. he had a huge shit-eating grin on his face like he had just accomplished his daily mission of hurting himself. "well, can you start? it's not gonna heal by itself."
you don’t call him out on it. not at first. but then the visits became more frequent to the point it was getting hard to miss and not because of some type of universal coincidence. that's what you keep telling yourself.
while you were still trying to convince yourself, the other's had started to notice it too.
“dude,” one of his teammates, juyang, said one day while leaning against the doorframe of the nurse’s office. “you get hurt a lot.” he had grown tired of his captain's dumb excuses of his injuries and decided upon himself to follow him straight to the office.
"seriously. you live here now?” another teammate, seonho joked.
hyeongsik shot them both a look and goes back to admiring you. you were quietly patching him up, as always. his teammates had caught up on what his true intentions were and even advised him to stop but him being himself, everyone knew he won't.
you knew you should stop too but deep down, you actually didn't seem to mind him at all.
seunghee, the school nurse sat at her desk looking more unimpressed than anything.
“hyeongsik," she said flatly. "if you’re going to keep this up then i will need to talk to coach ju.”
his eyes immediately snapped forward.
“what?” he said too fast. “why would you—”
“you’ve been here three times this week,” seunghee continued, unfazed. she then slid his medical chart a little closer to herself, tapping it with one finger. “and it’s only thursday!”
you froze mid-motion, cotton pad hovering just above his thigh.
“it’s rugby.”
“no,” she corrected again. “it’s you.”
the room fell quiet, saved for the faint buzzing of the lights overhead.
you slowly set the cotton down, suddenly very aware of your presence. hyeongsik noticed it too—his shoulders stiffened, and for the first time since he’d walked in, he didn’t meet your eyes.
seunghee leaned back in her chair. “i’m not stupid. neither is coach ju. you don’t get injured like this unless you’re either being reckless… or looking for an excuse.”
hyeongsik raised an eyebrow. “an excuse for what?”
her gaze flicked. it was brief but deliberate—unmistakably toward you.
you pretended not to notice, focusing on rewrapping the bandage instead.
hyeongsik’s ears burned. “that’s not—” he stopped himself before running a hand through his hair. “i’m not doing anything on purpose.”
seonho and juyang gave each other knowing looks across from him.
seunghee hummed skeptically. “then maybe you should start playing like a captain instead of a hotheaded senior.”
“…i'll be more careful next time,” he muttered.
“for your sake, i hope so,” seunghee said. “because if coach ju hears about this, he won’t be as gentle as i am.”
she waved her hand dismissively. “you’re done here. go.”
hyeongsik stood, hesitating. he glanced at you—just a quick look, almost apologetic.
"thanks,” he said softly. you smiled, the same way you always did. “take care, hyeongsik.”
with that, they left without another word.
seunghee watched for a moment before turning to you.
“you know he’s doing it on purpose, right?”
you simply blinked. “i—”
she sighed. “you’re too kind for your own good.” then, after a pause, her expression softened just a little. "just… don’t let him hurt himself trying to impress you.”
your cheeks warmed.
“i’m not—” you started, trying to explain the situation but the words fell apart before you could finish them.
seunghee smiled faintly, already reaching for the next file.
her words stayed with you longer than they should.
don’t let him hurt himself trying to impress you.
you told yourself seunghee was just exaggerating. hyeongsik was a rugby player—injuries come with the sport.
the next few days, you caught yourself listening more closely for heavy footsteps in the hallway. you glanced at the door whenever voices rose outside. you told yourself it’s habit.
then days passed and he still doesn’t come.
the nurse’s office felt strangely empty without him. without his sharp remarks, without the way his presence fills the room even when he says nothing. you never mentioned it. instead, you focused on your tasks, on the first-years with twisted ankles and the second-years with headaches from overtraining.
you’re wiping down the counter when seunghee clicks her tongue.
“coach ju finally got through to him, i guess.”
your hand stills. “got through?”
“he hasn’t been hurt,” she said. “or at least, not enough to end up here.”
you nodded. “that’s good.”
it is good.
so why does your chest felt a little tight?
when you see him again, it was on the day of the regional finals.
you’re assigned to medical support by the field, standing just beyond the sidelines with an emergency kit slung over your shoulder. the air was electric—students shouted, banners waved and whistles pierced through the noise.
hyeongsik stood at the center of it all.
captain’s armband snug around his arm, posture straight and his expression focused. he looked different somehow—steadier and calmer. when his eyes flicked toward the sidelines and landed on you, something soft flashed across his face before he went into seriousness.
your heart stuttered.
during the match, the rival team was ruthless.
you heard it even from where you stood—jeers hurled with precision, words meant to dig under skin.
“that's their captain?"
“overcompensating much?”
“try not to cry when you lose!”
you see it right then—the way his shoulders starts to tense. it would be dumb enough to not notice. for a terrifying second you thought he was going to snap, then he exhaled, slowly before turning away. the game continued.
hanyang won by a narrow margin, the final whistle swallowed by the roar of the crowd. his teammates swarmed him, shouting his name before dragging him into a pile of bodies and laughter.
you didn’t realize you’re smiling until your cheeks ached.
he found you right after the game.
not immediately though. he changed, showered and celebrated with the team. by the time he pushed open the door to the nurse’s office and sees you—putting back the supplies into their place. the field outside has quieted down and the sky had dimmed into evening.
he looked nervous, uninjured and whole—unlike him from all those times you patched him up.
that alone felt different.
“you didn’t come by,” you started gently, breaking the silence.
he huffed out a breath. “yeah.”
hyeongsik took a seat at the bed, more out of habit than necessity.
“i wanted to,” he admitted. “a few times.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “but i figured… if i kept showing up hurt, you’d think i wasn’t listening.”
you looked at him, surprised. "i would’ve thought you were human.”
he smiled faintly. then, a quieter, “i didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
your chest suddenly tightened.
“you weren’t,” you said honestly. “but i’m proud of you.”
he looked up at that, eyes searching your face like he’s checking for sincerity.
“…i thought about you,” he said. “every time they ran their mouths.” he laughed under his breath. “which is insane, by the way.”
“why?”
“because you weren’t even there half the time.” he took a deep breath before continuing. “but i kept hearing your voice. telling me to slow down.”
the heavy silence settled between you.
hyeongsik stood up, the bed creaking in the process.
“i graduate next week.”
“i know.”
“and after that,” he continued, words rushing now, “i won’t be allowed here anymore. not as a student. not as your patient.”
you nodded slowly.
he took a step closer.
“so,” he said, voice low, earnest, “when i don’t have an excuse to see you anymore—” he paused, inching closer to where you were. you kept still, your heart thumping against your own chest.
“—would you let me take you out?” he laughed nervously. “not as captain do. not as some injured idiot. just… me.”
the world seems to narrowed to the space between you two.
as a response, you smiled.
“i was wondering how long it’d take you to ask.”
his eyes widened almost instantly. “wait—really?”
you nodded. “really.”
relief crashed over his face, bright and unguarded. he laughed, a sound so genuine it makes your chest ache.
“…can i still call you noona though?” he asked, hopeful.
you raised a brow. “absolutely not.”
he grinned. “welp, worth a try.”
and for the first time, he didn't have to get an excuse to see you.
look ok listen kenta, insoo, eunki, and jaechan hung out w each other 3 times, went to the movies, held hands, got ice scream, bought make up.... like.......... ideal date ideas for ideal poly relationship Im Living
