Cutie Pie ( SEVENTEEN X MALE READER )

Shining Diamond

TRIGGER WARNING (Sexual Assault and child abuse)

Young-Hyun trudged up the front steps, his school bag heavy on his shoulders, as exhaustion seeped into his bones. The day had been long and filled with the relentless droning of teachers, yet through it all, he had clung to the distant hope of solitude once he reached the sanctuary of his home.

However, as he pushed open the creaking door, Young-Hyun froze in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. Sitting in an aged armchair near the fireplace was his father. It had been months since he had last seen him at home. His father's presence sent a shiver down Young-Hyun's spine, for this was not a welcome sight but rather an unwelcome intrusion upon his haven.

His heart sank as his father's eyes met his own. Young-Hyun averted his gaze, feigning nonchalance in an attempt to ignore the man who had long abandoned their family. Yet, try as he might to ignore him, Young-Hyun could feel his father's piercing stare boring into the back of his skull. The weight of the silence in the room was palpable, suffocating even as if a heavy fog had descended upon their once peaceful abode.

Young-Hyun dared not speak. Words had lost their meaning when it came to his father, who had left them without a trace and returned now, unannounced and unwelcome. His mind raced with questions, with an ache for closure, but he knew better than to let them spill from his lips. The risk of disappointment and further heartache loomed like a shadow over them both.

His father shifted in his chair, the worn fabric groaning in protest. "How was school today?" he asked tentatively, his voice laden with a mixture of weariness and genuine concern. Each word seemed to hang in the air, waiting for Young-Hyun's response.

Young-Hyun clenched his fists, struggling to contain the tumultuous emotions swirling within him. He knew better than to trust his father's sudden change in demeanor. The soothing tone in his voice, the flicker of concern in his eyes—they were all mere façades, fragile masks that could crack at any moment, revealing the monster beneath.

With great effort, Young-Hyun managed to keep his voice steady as he replied, "It was fine, Father. Just like any other day." He carefully avoided making direct eye contact, keeping his gaze fixed upon the floor. The words felt hollow on his tongue, a lie he had become all too accustomed to telling.

Silence settled over them once more, heavy and unyielding. Young-Hyun's heart hammered against his ribcage, the fear of what might come next weighing him down with an unforgiving grip. He wished he could disappear into the safety of his own thoughts, where fantasies of freedom and happiness still flickered like distant stars in a blackened sky.

Hours passed as Young-Hyun retreated to his room, seeking solace in the solitude that had always been his refuge. The weight of his father's presence lingered in the air, suffocating him even when they were worlds apart. He knew better than to let his guard down, for beneath the surface of his father's temporary sobriety lay a darkness that had haunted their lives for far too long.

As Young-Hyun wearily undressed, the weight of the day's events sank deeper into his bones. His body ached with exhaustion, but it was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil that now threatened to consume him. He stood before the mirror, his eyes tracing the fresh bruises and cuts that adorned his skin like a cruel tapestry of pain.

In the midst of changing his clothes, a creaking sound echoed from behind him. Young-Hyun's heart skipped a beat as he turned to see his father standing in the doorway, swaying slightly in a drunken stupor. The smell of alcohol clung to him like an invisible shroud, suffusing the room with its sickly sweet scent.

His father's bloodshot eyes widened as they fell upon Young-Hyun's battered form. A mixture of confusion and concern flickered across his face, momentarily replacing the usual haze of indifference. "What happened? Where did those injuries come from?" he slurred, his words slurring into a drunken melody. Young-Hyun's discomfort intensified as his father stumbled towards him, reaching out a trembling hand to touch the bruises that stained his son's skin.