𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐈

P. Wentz - The Ones to Avoid

!! mentions of abuse. please read with caution !!

- - -

Pete.

The school's bad boy and douche bag, always on detention, and the one they warned you about.

But was it really Pete you should be avoiding?

You'd sometimes sit with him next to English class, peering over his shoulder as he wrote down something on his notebook. You knew he was a man of few words, but he was also a composer. That was a side of Pete that no one really knew, even if you were to ask him, he'd probably deny it.

Most of the time, smoking out in the bathroom, picking on kids, and skipping classes but he never skipped English class.

"Morning," Mr. Biersack said as he entered the room. Pete yawned as he laid his head on the desk, his face looking at you. You propped your arm on the desk, using your palm to support her cheek as you listened to Mr. Biersack's lesson.

Pete's eyes trailed all over your face without you noticing. Your (e/c) eyes that would flicker around the room, your hair that flowed down your shoulders, and your lips. Your pink lips, Pete wondered what you would taste like.

He blushed at the thought and trailed his eyes to your neck, that's where he saw it.

The bruise, not just on your neck but on your collarbone, too. He thought it was some kind of love bite but his eyes trailed farther to your arms, one of your long sleeves were rolled up and he could see the visible red and purple marks on it. Without second thoughts, Pete raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Wentz?" Mr. Biersack asked in his cool and deep voice. You looked at Pete and he pointed at you, "Y/n told me she's feeling lightheaded, may I assist her to the clinic?"

"What the he-" "Sure, go ahead." The teacher nodded and Pete grabbed your hand before dragging you out of the classroom. "P-pete? What are you-?" You stuttered as he pulled you out to the school backyard. Pete looked at you, frowning.

"Who hurt you?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "I don't-" "Your bruised up, Y/n. Please, let me help you." His words were soft as cream, making your heart swell up in delight. You sighed, "N-no one. I'm fine."

"Don't give me that bullshit," Pete said, putting his hands on your shoulders. You looked at him, his muddy eyes sparkling. "You don't deserve to be hurt, okay? You deserve better."

You nodded and sat down by the bench, Pete following your actions.

"M-my parents," You started, fiddling with your thumbs. "They s-shout at me, making me feel worthless, and t-to the point t-that they-" You felt tears welling up your eyes as flashbacks haunt your mind.

You felt Pete's hand on your back, cooing you. "T-they hit me." That raised a red flag for Pete. He clenched his hand into a fist and sighed, "We need to tell, Y/n."

You covered your face, "B-but then, if we d-do I'll h-have no one." You stuttered. Pete smiled, patting your back. "Nonsense. You have me."

You have me

Your heart fluttered and you nodded. "I'm scared, Pete." You admitted. Pete shook his head, grabbing your hand.

"Don't be, I'm here."