Fighter ( Park Chanyeol X Male reader )

Monster

(Trigger Warning; Abuse)

Eunil, fueled by a desperate need to escape the suffocating tension of the cafe, found himself running on autopilot. Tears blurred his vision, and his sneakers pounded a frantic rhythm against the pavement. He had no clear destination in mind, just a primal urge to put as much distance between him and the cafe as possible.

His feet carried him through unfamiliar streets, the once-bright city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of swirling colors. Exhaustion eventually caught up to him, his legs burning with each strained breath. He stumbled to a stop, leaning against a cold lamppost, gasping for air.

Sniffling back his tears, Eunil tried to get his bearings. The buildings around him looked unfamiliar, a mix of old apartment complexes and run-down shops with flickering neon signs. Panic clawed at his throat. He was lost.

Suddenly, a flicker of recognition sparked in his muddled brain. The architecture of the building across the street looked vaguely familiar. It was a cheap, two-story apartment complex his father used to manage before... before everything went downhill. A surge of conflicting emotions washed over him – a flicker of hope mixed with a heavy dose of dread.

Without thinking, Eunil crossed the street, his legs moving on shaky autopilot. He approached the building cautiously, the chipped paint and broken mailboxes a stark reminder of his past. As he neared the entrance, a flicker of movement caught his eye. A tall figure emerged from a doorway bathed in dim light, a cigarette dangling from their lips.

His breath hitched. It was him. His father.

Eunil froze, his heart hammering against his ribs. He wanted to turn and run, to disappear back into the anonymity of the night. But his father had already spotted him. A scowl contorted his features as he stomped towards Eunil, the cigarette forgotten in his hand.

"Eunil? What the hell are you doing here?" His father's voice was a harsh rasp, laced with anger and something else – maybe surprise?

Before Eunil could stammer out a reply, his father grabbed him roughly by the arm. "Come inside. We need to talk."

Eunil yelped in pain as his father's grip tightened. He wanted to resist, to fight back, but the fight had drained out of him. He was a puppet on a string, his emotions a tangled mess, and his father held the strings.

With a resigned sigh, Eunil allowed himself to be dragged inside, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind them, plunging him back into the darkness he thought he'd left behind.

The stale, familiar smell of cigarette smoke and mildew hit Eunil like a punch to the gut as his father yanked him inside the building. The dim hallway was illuminated by a single flickering bulb, casting long, distorted shadows across the peeling wallpaper. The air hung heavy with neglect and a lingering sense of his father's anger.

Eunil stumbled along, his arm throbbing where his father's grip had dug in. He didn't dare resist, the man's unpredictable temper a constant threat hanging over him. They reached the apartment at the end of the hall, the number "4B" barely visible on the cracked doorframe.

His father fumbled with a key ring, his movements jerky and frustrated. With a loud clang, the door swung open, revealing a cramped living space that mirrored the disarray of the hallway. A lumpy couch sat in front of a flickering TV; stacks of dirty dishes piled high on a rickety coffee table. The stench of cheap beer and unwashed clothes clung to the air.

"Sit," his father barked, gesturing towards the worn couch. Eunil sank down gingerly, his eyes darting around the room, trying to avoid his father's gaze. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.  His gaze darted around the room, landing on the broken picture frame on the coffee table. It held a faded picture, one happy memory in a sea of bad ones - him, younger and carefree, with his mom. Her gentle smile seemed a lifetime ago, a constant reminder of the life stolen by his father's drunken rage.

The banging from the next apartment started again, louder this time. Eunil flinched. His dad used to blame the neighbors for everything - the thin walls, the leaky pipes. It was a familiar pattern - escalate, blame, then disappear into a bottle.

The apartment door creaked open again, and Eunil braced himself. His father stormed in, his face flushed with anger, not just at the neighbor, but seemingly at everything and everyone, including Eunil. The air grew thick with the stench of cheap beer and something else, something metallic and sharp.

"You disobeyed me," his father snarled, his voice slurred. "You ran away like a little girl."

His words cut deep, the silence stretched, taut with tension. His father lumbered closer, his hand reaching for his belt, the familiar prelude to a beating. Eunil's breath hitched, his fight or flight instinct screaming at him. "You think you could just disappear?" his father continued, his voice rising. "Leave me hanging with all this debt you racked up?"

Debt? Eunil blinked, a flicker of confusion momentarily breaking through his fear. What debt? He hadn't taken anything, hadn't asked for anything. He had simply wanted to escape the constant tension, the feeling of being on eggshells around his own father.

"I didn't take anything," Eunil mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. The lie felt hollow, a pathetic attempt at defending himself against an accusation he didn't understand.

A humorless laugh escaped his father's lips. "Oh, really? Then how do you explain this?" He threw a crumpled piece of paper at Eunil, who flinched instinctively as it landed on his lap. It was a bill, the logo of the cafe that Lay's parents own that Eunil works for unmistakable on the faded receipt.

Eunil's stomach lurched. He remembered Lay paying for their meal, the bill never reaching his hands. Panic welled up inside him, a desperate need to explain that it wasn't his doing. But before he could speak, his father's hand shot out, a stinging slap connecting with his cheek.

"Don't lie to me, boy!" his father roared. Tears welled up in Eunil's eyes, blurring his vision further. This was it. The dam had broken. Years of pent-up emotions threatened to spill out. 

"It wasn't me!" Eunil cried, his voice surprisingly strong despite the trembling in his legs. "Lay paid for the meal! I didn't take anything!"

His outburst hung in the air, a challenge against the oppressive silence that had ruled their lives for so long. His father stared at him for a long moment, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. Then, a flicker of something like shame crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by a hardened anger.

"Doesn't matter," he spat, his voice laced with defeat. "You're useless anyway. Now get in your room."

Eunil didn't move. He was tired of being the scapegoat, tired of living in fear. He looked up at his father, his eyes holding a defiant glint. "No."

The word hung in the air, a single syllable that seemed to shatter the fragile peace. His father's face contorted in rage. He lunged forward, grabbing Eunil by the arm, the familiar pain sending a jolt up his body. "P-please. Don't...I promise" However his dad didn't care sending him to the ground with a hard slap "You worked there, and I even gave you jobs and yet YOU steal from me?!" A kick right to Eunil's stomach sends him coughing and gasping but his father isn't done. He rolls him over with his foot and starts stepping on him and holding him down whilst he hurls insults at Eunil. 

"P-please" Eunil's father laughed a mean laugh as he then straddled Eunil on the floor and placed his hands around his feeble neck and squeezed. "I wish you were never born because then maybe just maybe I wouldn't have to suffer" Eunil tried getting him off, his legs kicked, his hands clawed at his father's arm but to no avail.