page ──── three
약한영웅 characters when you cry while patching them up ˳ ۫ 𓈅
includes class 2 + suho 𔓕 gn!reader 𔓕 w.c 3.4k+
genres — established relationship, fluff, hurt / comfort
click to continue reading! 𔓕 based on this request
warnings. mentions of blood, injuries, bruises, dacryphilia (?), canon-typical violence.
──────── yeon sieun
Baku had called you, his voice was weighed with worry as he told you Sieun was hurt badly and unconscious. Your heart had sunk right there, the world had become blurry. Everything that came out of Baku’s mouth through the phone sounded so far away, as if someone had put your head underwater. you had felt like your legs would give up any second.
You had rushed with some first aid to Eunjang right away, fighting the fidgety feeling and anxiety you felt the entire bus ride. When you reached the secret hangout room you found three of the four boys hurt, one of them— your Sieun, lying down, and unconscious.
You had questioned and scolded them but they knew your anger came from a place of concern. Juntae had said that he and Gotak were fine, he had half-lied. All three of them had come to some unspoken agreement to leave you with Sieun alone to patch him up.
Your chest tightens as you settle near Sieun, slowly moving his hair out of his forehead to look at his wounds. Red bruises abloom on both his cheeks and forehead, gashes on both his cheek bones and a busted lip— just what was he upto?
You start by cleaning his chin and hands with wet wipes. You then disinfect his face and forehead, your breathing becomes heavier. You don't know how to clean his lips properly, after all you're not a medical professional, so you just opt to clean the area around his mouth properly. Your eyes start to burn a little, your heart is getting heavier each passing second.
Sieun’s eyes flicker open, his gaze is far away but he soon notices your presence, you are trying to rip a bandaid out of its packaging. He calls out your name, his voice is shaky and hoarse.
You turn towards him, a wave of relief washing over you as you notice him awake. He tries to get up but you push him down to rest, your attempts are futile as he sits straight anyway. He looks dazed.
“Sieun-ah,” You say, you don't add anything else, unable to think of a proper statement. Your eyes start to burn again, you try to blink it away but instead tears start to trail down your cheek. Sieun mirrors your expression. His eyes redden as tears collect.
“I’m sorry.” He utters, raw and pained. Your chest tightens and a lump forms in your throat.
“It’s okay, I am here now.” You breathe out, your voice is weak despite nothing being okay, you try to be strong.
“No, no, I am sorry.” His words are a little slurred and drawled as repeats. You take his hand in your own, holding it gently, you start to run your fingers over his hand in soothing motions. Your touch is feather light, as if you're afraid that you'll break Sieun. He stops you and grips your fingers lightly with his own, signaling for you to respond. Your vision is getting a little blurred but you hold it in for Sieun’s sake.
“Okay.” You say, your voice is weak. “I accept your apology. Now, let me put this bandaid on you.”
Sieun switches from holding your hand to gripping your sleeve between his fingers. You peel off the wrapper and put the bandaid on his cheekbone gently. Sieun’s eyes start to water. You wipe them with the back of your fingers before they can fall past his under eyes.
“They… your tears… they will burn your wounds. So, stop, okay? There's no need to cry, okay? I am here now.” You speak softly.
You usher him to lay down, his hand holding onto yours firmly. He does not want to let you go. You bring his hand towards your face and press a faint kiss on the back of his hand. His grip loosens slightly as he passes out again.
──────── ahn suho
To say you were pissed would be an understatement. You were beyond angry at this point. As you put a dressing on his forearm, Suho finally breaks the silence.
“Wanna go to noraebang?” Typical Suho. Typical Suho behaviour. Always trying to change the topic.
“No.” You say.
“C’mon, I’ll take you to eat ice-cream after.” He tries to persuade you, taking your hands in his own, entwining softly. Subtly indicating that he doesn't want to talk about this, trying to put on an act to pretend that this never happened.
“No.” You repeat standing your ground.
He pouts as you retreat your hands and continue to apply ointment on his scratches.
“No use in pouting. I thought you were over this shit, beating up people and getting hurt.”
He doesn't respond so you refuse to meet his eyes. You start to apply some gel on the scratches of his face and he starts to pucker his lips, asking for a kiss. You put your palm on his lips.
“Stop it.” He licks your palm instead—? You withdraw your hand and smack him.
Wiping your hand with his uniform, you go back to applying the gel. Suho realises you're both awfully close, your face near his own. He looks at you, your face, how you have a little pout and how your eyebrows are furrowed as you delicately apply the ointment on him.
He notices how your lips tremble a little and your eyes are blinking a lot. Are you holding in your tears?
“Hey.” He holds your wrist. “I’m–”
“What?” You finally break– tears brim and fall out of your eyes. This time, you pretend. You pretend that you are not crying. You try to go back to patching him but his hold on your wrists is too strong.
“Hey, hey.” He utters softly, his voice sounds apologetic.“I’m… sorry. I know I told you I won't do this anymore but… it just happened.”
You bite the insides of your cheeks avoiding his gaze and silently sniffle and Suho’s heart breaks.
“Oh my.” He mutters under his breath, his hands quickly reach your face, palms holding your face like you were some fragile porcelain. His thumbs wipe your tears tenderly.
“I’m sorry, Y/n-ssi.” And with that, he kisses your nose. “It won't… I'll try to make sure it does not happen again.” He kisses your forehead next. “So, now please,” He kisses your philtrum, “Please, stop crying. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”
He continues to kiss your face until you break into giggles.
──────── seo juntae
Juntae looks at you like a puppy kicked by a human, eyes downcast and filled with tears, feeling as though it was something that was his mistake. His eyes don't leave your hands.
You are fuming. Brows furrowed together, you are taking long breaths to calm yourself down. You angrily rip off a medicine’s covering and Juntae gulps.
You turn your face towards him and he looks at you and then, quickly looks away. He feels guilty.
You both are on a bench in a park near the pharmacy you just visited. Juntae got beat up by some bullies and you had dragged him to the pharmacy despite him saying it was okay.
Juntae wonders if you're mad at him. You're not. You know that.
You take off his glasses, gently putting them away. You start to dab away the dirt and blood from his face, your touches are feather light. He winces. He thinks it ticked you off because you stop and discard the cotton ball.
“I know… that it hurts you every time I get…hurt. I'm sorry.” He says, you look away. He's afraid he might lose you if this continues, he doesn't want that to happen ever. He holds your hands, clasping your fingers with his own.
“Please don't be mad at me.” It breaks something inside of you.
Your anger melts and turns into something else. It turns into the tears in your eyes, you hold them in. Your nose feels tingly and your mouth feels strangely wet. Your lips are pursed, you are taking in his words, letting them settle in your mind. They feel heavy. You take a deep breath as the tears threaten to fall. You face him again.
This time the look in your face is not of annoyance but of hurt, your brows are no longer furrowed together, your eyelashes are wet with tears that might fall any second. Juntae feels guilty.
“I am not mad at you.” You say and then it happens. The tears start to cascade down slowly. Juntae’s lips quiver. You take your hands back and wipe your tears.
“I don't know why you think I'm mad at you. I'm just… frustrated about this situation. I worry for you, Juntae-ya. Every few days you show up with these new wounds and bruises, I feel sad. I don't know what you're up to, but…” You stop as you don't know what to say.
Juntae feels as if his insides got ripped out and seared, his eyes start to water instantly at this sight. Just how could he be the reason of your tears?
His hand reaches out hesitant towards you, shaking a little and it finally finds your back. He starts to rub you with one hand and takes out a napkin with another. He uses it to wipe your tears.
“I…am sorry. Please don't cry.”
──────── go ‘gotak’ hyuntak
“Does it cost money to be careful?” You mumble under your breath but they're still loud enough to be heard by Hyuntak. You did it intentionally.
“What? Aren't I supposed to be the one nagging you?” He sounds offended. “And if it really did cost money, you’d be evading–” You respond with a smack on the top of his head before he can even finish.
“Beggars can't be choosers.” You confuse him.
“That's literally not how the saying works. Ah–” You're now pulling his right ear.
“Can you stop abusing me?” He grumbles.
“Can you stop abusing me?” You mock him snottily.
Gotak realises there's no point in arguing with you further so he doesn't say anything. Instead, he looks away as you work on patching him up. You put gauze around his arm and some bandaids over his knuckles. You soon start to clean his face and that's when he finally turns towards you.
A q-tip is between your thumb and index finger layered with some gel, you're gently applying it to the corner of Gotak’s lips. He suddenly becomes hyper-aware about everything and his skin prickles with goosebumps.
Gotak realises that your sole focus is on his lips and blood rushes to his face, his ears reddening with every passing second. This close proximity isn't something that's rare but it's something that's not frequent either. Your dynamic has always been like this—too shy to be close and too committed to be farther than an arm’s distance.
Gotak takes in your features. Your eyes are glassy but focused on his lips and your nose seems a little red. Your bottom lip is between your teeth to stop it from trembling. You look like you're on the verge of crying. Shit.
“So, um…” Gotak starts, his intention is to distract you so you don't end up actually crying.
You hum in response. You finish up taking care of his lip and put away the q-tip in a plastic bag. Gotak looks at you, unable to muster up his words. He should’ve thought before starting to speak!
“So, yeah.”
You look at him incredulously, eyebrows raised but eyes still glassy, tears still sticking to your lashes.
“What?” You say.
You hear Gotak mumble a small Fuck this before he pulls you into his arms. One of his hands snakes through your back to your head, holding it gently. Gotak starts to pat you slowly. He then kisses the crown of your head.
“I’ll be careful next time.”
“Yeah. You better be.”
──────── park 'baku' humin
Baku had showed up to your home bloodied and bruised with his stupid injuries and wounds. You had led him to your living room, your parents weren't home fortunately. You wouldn't have to explain why there was a badly beat up boy in your living space.
This brings you to your current predicament— crouched in front of Baku as he sat on the sofa, cleaning the dried blood clinging to his knuckles. You work in silence and Baku lets you. He doesn't speak and neither do you. You don't ask or question. He doesn't tell you what happened.
But the silence is oh so suffocating. There is a lump in your throat that won't go down now matter how much you swallow and tears are pricking the inner corners of your eyes. After you're done cleaning his hands you settle yourself on the sofa and start to clean his face.
Baku is strong, that is a fact. He never loses, that is another fact. But he is not invincible or immune to getting hurt. He bleeds and bruises just like everyone else. He feels pain too. That is evident in how he winces when you apply cream on his knuckles before you put on a bandaid. That is also evident in the way he hisses in pain when you dab the cut on his face with a cotton ball covered in disinfectant.
It is also evident in the way his heart aches when he notices your hands trembling and your eyes watering. You sniffle involuntarily. Baku wants to scratch his face. His eyes become glassy.
He calls out your name delicately as if it was a glass sculpture that could break if his voice was any louder.
And your tears spill. You bite your bottom lip to try and hold it in but there's no use.
Humin takes the cotton ball from your hand and places it on the center table. His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you into his embrace. No words are exchanged. Sometimes, words aren't needed to communicate. Actions are enough.
With your head on his chest and his arms around you firmly, he pulls you under his chin. He lets you cry it out. You must be scared after seeing him hurt so badly.
He starts to run soothing circles on your back with his hand until you calm down.
“I’m sorry.” He says finally breaking the silence. “I won't get hurt this badly next time.”
“So you plan on getting hurt again?”
──────── geum seongje
You are everything Geum Seongje is not– quiet, kind and gentle. Maybe that's why you're both together. Opposites attract or something.
But Outside Geum Seongje is different from Inside Geum Seongje. Inside Geum Seongje is reserved just for you. His words don't bite and he kisses with his lips instead of his fists. His eyes don't carry that crazed look, but a look of comfort and relaxation. He's not the adrenaline crazy wolf but a person who seeks softness and love.
One might think Seongje is the antonym of words like love, gentleness, kindness, softness etc. but that would be false. Seongje loves in his own way. He is cruel, yes, but there is certain gentleness when he pulls you into hugs. Geum Seongje knows mercy too. He is not soft like others but his edges and sharpness dull a little every time he's with you.
Maybe that's why he always seeks for you when he's injured. You offer him a quiet haven in your heart for nothing in exchange. You don't judge him. You don't ask questions. You don't look at him with fear or inferiority.
That's why he always crashes at your apartment after a big fight. You patch him up and offer him a warm meal. You offer him warmth no one else ever does.
Seongje looks at you confused. Your eyes are red and flowing with tears as you clean his bloodied knuckles. He does not understand why you're crying. But you look pretty, he doesn't want to question anything.
“I won, you know.” He breaks the silence.
“Yeah, I know.” You say, holding in a sniffle.
“So why are you crying?”
“Because you're hurt?”
Bloodied knuckles, busted lip, a black eye and different reds blooming under his skin on his body.
“You lack a sense of self preservation.” Seongje doesn't reply, he just studies your features. There's something unreadable in his expression. He silently acknowledges what you said as true. He doesn't know what to do when you sniffle and when your tears don't stop.
When you're finally done patching him up, you get up. He holds your wrist.
“The vegetables will get charred.” You say referring to the veggies on the pan you left unattended to focus on Seongje.
“Stay.” The ‘Please’ is left unsaid.
──────── na baekjin
It isn't common for Baekjin to get into fights. And it is more uncommon for him to come back scathed– you see, Baekjin doesn't get his hands dirty. He rarely does so. And it's rarer for him to get hurt. His moves are always calculated and precise, there's no room for surprises or to get hurt for that matter.
So it is quite a moment when Baekjin enters his office with a gash along his cheek, walks towards his desk and crouches down to pull out a first aid box and puts it in front of you on the glass table, calmly. You look at him dumbly.
“Like am I…?” You start but then trail off, because obviously, he meant for you to patch him up.
“I don't see a mirror in here.” Whoa, Na Baekjin can be sarcastic if he wants.
“Then sit down, sir.” And with that Baekjin settles down next to you on the black leather couch of his modest office.
There's distance between you, you gesture with your hands for him to come closer and he follows. You break the distance between you both by pulling his face closer to yourself to inspect his cut and Baekjin notices how your face curls up in pain.
“You’re lucky it wasn't that deep. You’d have to get stitches on your pretty face.” Baekjin doesn't respond to your statement, but his gaze softens. A little smile forms on his face but it dissolves right away.
You start by wiping off the blood that trickled down towards his jaw and Baekjin closes his eyes—feeling your soft touches. One of your hands holding his face while the other wipes away the blood, there is a certain domesticity to this which he cherishes. Not that he would admit out loud. But it's evident in how his shoulders relax a little when you're nearby and how his fingers always try to find yours in the quiet moments when you're alone.
For a second, Baekjin wonders if it was not for the Union, would you two get to be normal? Act like those schoolmates who are dating— holding hands in the hallways, holding hands under the table in the cafeteria and sneaking off to the secluded corners of the school to make out.
He is pulled out of his thoughts when you say something, your voice sounds a little shaky and weak.
“I won't use the disinfectant, it’ll burn too much, so I'll use this cream… instead.”
He sees your eyes brimmed with tears, eyelashes heavy with tears weighing them down. His gaze softens.
“You are crying.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I am not! Atleast, not yet.”
“You worry for me too much.”
“You say it like it's a bad thing.” Your tears fall.
Ok, fair enough, Baekjin thinks. You're the only one who can get him tongue tied. If he can worry for you, then you can too.
He wipes the tears with the back of his hands, his touch is tender. You hold onto his hand, not letting him take it back, leaning into his touch.
“I love you.” You sniffle. His thumb rubs away another tear.
“I know. I love you too. I won't get hurt again.” He says. His voice doesn't have the edge he uses with others. A special voice just for you.
His gravity pulls you closer, heads tilting in unison, just a few centimetres apar–
A knock and the door opens.
“Am I interrupting something?” Geum Seongje. Motherfucker.
You groan.
Baekjin sighs.
note Ꮺ
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