Kiss my Wounds ⭐️

The New Story

Warnings: mention of self-harm, abuse, s3xual abuse, murder, and slight mention of r4pe.

FOR THIS PART OF THE STORY COME UP WITH A FAKE NAME. THIS WILL BE YOUR NAME BEFORE YOU ILLEGALLY CHANGE IT LATER ON.
(Y/f/n = your fake name + F/n =Father's name)
———
WHEN M/N WAS 13 YEARS OLD

The sound of the keys clicking on a keyboard rings out into the dark and silent room. The male sitting on his bed under the layers of blankets sighing softly. His (black, brown, blonde, etc.) hair falling in front of his eyes. His hand rushing up to push it back. But his eyes roll when the hair falls back into its place, "stupid." Y/f/n whispers to himself as he grabs his hair-clip beside his bed and clips his bangs back. His view getting better making him smile in relief as his anger leaves his body.

But his smile soon vanished when the sound of the front door slamming open startles him. He quickly un-clips his hair and shuts his computer closed. He stands up and walks to his closet door. He throws on an oversized shirt, the bandages on his wrists red and slightly grimy. He flinches slightly at the sight before he reaches the bathroom. He professionally cleans and wraps his arms before putting on his black zip up.

His feet move around quickly as he makes his way out of his room. His movements silent as he goes down the creaky stairs before settling in front of the kitchen entrance, "Sir.." Y/f/n trails off as he sees his cold-blooded and over-grown dad. He steps further away from him, scared of the consequences for not cooking dinner.

"I thought we had a deal? You cook, I work." F/n snaps. Y/f/n gulping down his saliva before nodding, "Yes Sir. I..I just got busy, and didn't find the time for cooking today." Y/f/n tries to explain calmly and clearly. His tone shaky but his posture straight and almost confident. But he wasn't confident, he was a coward. A low-life coward with no life but to be used by others and forced into such unfortunate situations.

Like now for example, Y/f/n knew his father would beat him with the belt or with his hands before finally leaving and asking for a beer. Y/f/n was used to it. The actions like a routine. It made him feel almost grateful for his father's choices. He didn't have to think of his future. His father had that set out for him. Even if Y/f/n felt the worse about the things his father did to him.

Y/f/n licks his dry lips as he sees how F/n steps forward and starts to undo his belt. He looks at it before looking down, "You know the drill." F/n's says. Y/f/n nods before he walks to the living room and bends over the couch. His ass in the air and tears well up in his eyes, "Dad knows best." Y/f/n whispers to himself.

F/n grabs a cigarette and his lighter before lighting it quickly. He sets the lighter aside before he folds the belt, "Count." F/n demands. The cigarette bouncing once. The belt going down on Y/f/n's ass harshly making the 13 year old boy wince, but keep his mouth shut knowing it could get worse. Y/f/n's hands shake as he looks around, "1." Y/f/n states. Another smack in the air, "2." A whisper rings out.

A harsh and painful smack going down on Y/f/n again, "..3.." Y/f/n delays his counting as he tries to calm down. Y/f/n wipes his eyes quickly before counting when a certain pain goes down on him again, "4." Y/f/n whispers through gritted teeth. The voices in his head start to pray for this to be over soon. He sighs softly when no other hit comes down, "S..Sir?" Y/f/n whimpers out.

F/n taking the cigarette out of his mouth. He raises it and burns it out on Y/f/n's back. Y/f/n wincing and crying silently, "What? You're done." F/n answers, "Unless you want more." F/n speaks angrily. Y/f/n immediately shakes his head, "No, please. I just want to say I'm sorry." Y/f/n sniffles lightly. He gets up, pulling his shirt down. His teeth biting his cheek when he felt the pain from the burn.

F/n clenches his jaw before hitting Y/f/n across the face, forcing Y/f/n onto the ground. Y/f/n sighs and moans softly when he felt how his cheek welled in pain. His teeth landing with a strong bite on it. Y/f/n tries to get up but his father kicks him in the gut before he could even get onto his hands and knees.

"Get up since you want to so bad." F/n teased Y/f/n before kicking him in the gut again and finally the face. Y/f/n's head knocking to the side. His eyes close his face tense but relaxed. His body immediately knocked out of consciousness due to his father's powerful kick. F/n scoffs before leaving, "Get me a beer faggot." F/n snaps. Y/f/n not answering as he remained unconscious before he finally woke up minutes later.

He sighs and stands ups way slower than usual. His movements making him weak. His head making him dizzy and his feet making him stumble. He walks into the kitchen. He grabs two beers before setting one down on the counter. He opens the bottle, drinking it. He throws it away before making his way to his father with his cold and full beer.

Y/f/n swallows the lump in his throat as he hands his dad the bottle. His hand numb from the cold, and his face numb from the harsh kicks and punches. Y/f/n sighs once and starts to limp towards the stairs, "Did I say you could go anywhere boy?" F/n spits out. The spit flying from his mouth at the intensity of the words and how harsh he spoke.

Y/f/n bites his cheek again as he turns back around and walks towards his father, "W..What do you need?" Y/f/n whispers. "Watch this movie with me." F/n commands as he drinks his beer. Y/f/n with, no other choice, sits down. He sits as still as possible. His body tightening when he starts to feel his father's hand on his waist.

His hand slowly moving along his body, groping him. Y/f/n looks down as his eyes tear up once more. He rushes up and starts to go up the stairs. The distant sound of his father yelling his name, and the sound of glass breaking behind him. Y/f/n quickly shuts the door. He locks it and opens his computer from before. He looks at his application before nodding to himself and submitting it.

Y/f/n gasps softly as he thinks about what he done. His father is going to kill him, "Fuck." Y/f/n whispers to himself. He stares at the large words across the screen, 'APPLICATION TO JYP ENTERTAINMENT SUBMITTED. WE WILL GET BACK TO YOU SOON!'. His hand lifts up and shuts his computer. He pushes his bangs back. The (black, brown, blonde, etc.) hair falling back in front of his face.

He looks at his door and walks to his desk. He pushes his desk in front of the piece of wood. Y/f/n flinching back when he hears the loud banging begin on his door. Y/f/n looks around his room nervously. His eyes searching for anything to protect him. His eyes landing on a butterfly knife. He looked at the door before grabbing the knife. 'Just in case', M/n thought to himself.

He twist the knife open but makes sure it won't be in view for his father to see. The banging stopped, making M/n wait in anticipation. "Let me in, now. I'm not playing with you M/n. You either let me in, or I let myself in. Huh? Which one do you want?" F/n speaks on the other side of the door. M/n licks his lips and swallows. He stays away from the door and makes sure he has a way to escape.

"Fine. I'll force in like last time." F/n says. M/n could hear the smirk in his tone. M/n didn't want a repeat of last time. Last time he wouldn't stop bleeding and he felt so disgusting after. He couldn't handle that again. M/n breathes slowly before walking forward. He moves the desk and opens the door. The view he sees scares him. His father glaring at him and his fist clenched.

He groans when he feels a harsh punch to his face again. He looks at his father and sobs softly. He looks down before he lifts the knife up and slashes his father's arm. F/n grunting as he clutches his injury, "What the fuck!" F/n shouts. M/n stares in shock and horror before he clenches his jaw and slashes his dad's arm again.

M/n's hands moving by themself as he continues to slash over his father's body, "I hate you." M/n whispers. F/n chuckles at that statement as he tries to hold onto his injuries, "No you don't. You could never hate me." F/n states confidently. M/n grits his teeth before he grips the knife. He looks at it and then his father. He stares at his father angry, "I will always hate you. Even when you're dead." M/n speaks.

He swallows and rushes forward before his father could speak. He digs the knife into his father's gut. F/n looks into his son's eyes as he chokes. He looks down and opens his mouth but blood is the only thing coming out. He coughs lightly before he finally falls to the ground. His body tense and his hands firmly gripping the hole in his stomach.

The pressure making more blood come out then helping it stay in. M/n sobs when he realized what he did. He looks around trying to think of what to do. He finally decides to run away, and never come back. He already has a plan he doesn't need anything else other than that.