pump your fists not your gas

I. Timid - Taeil

‘The Duality of Man’ - A Rupi Kaur Collab With @hcechans

THE LIST

“I am timid

cause falling into you

means falling out of him

and I had not prepared for that”

- forward, rupi kaur


Characters: Taeil, Johnny, Reader

Pairing: Taeil/Reader

Genre: Sad but Okay (?? idk)

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Past Abusive Relationship


Cornerstore sky lights and the buzz of a broken a/c pulsed against your eyes like a miraculous omen from above. You left him three weeks ago, but he held on like melted summer gum to the sole of your shoe, his fingertips violent but passive along the bruises of your ribs. Your sweater still smelled like alcohol, but you could barely tell, the blood crusting against the rims of your nostrils blocking out the scent like curtains drawn tight. It had been three hours since you had last seen him, his guts creating paisley wallpaper against your hotel’s structure, the iridescent puke of his bourbon pastime melting into the cracks of your tiled floors.

You were hoping he would rot.

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anonymous asked:

You should write one where the reader gets in a really bad fight with a jock and Eric and Dylan clean up her wounds causing her to undress and she gets shy?

Your bags strap stretched with your chest as you took a large deep breath in, exhaling slowly and looking at the door in front of you.
GIRLS LOCKER ROOM beaming at you like a omen of doom. Rolling your shoulders you quietly pushed the door open and hurried inside.
Gym class. Physical education. Student torture….
It was your most loathed subject as it meant you were in close proximity to the queen bitch devil herself Annabelle Worthington. This…this thing that was an excuse for a human, made it her mission in life to make yours a misery. She must of got commission from satan himself for every tear she made you shed.

You quickly glanced around and assumed that you’d timed your arrival perfectly for once and that everyone was already changed and waiting for the lesson to start. You quickly opened your gym locker, taking out your change of clothes before starting to remove your own. As you reached for your shorts a sickly sweet voice filled your veins with ice.

“Jesus you look even worse without those rags you call clothes on!”

You spin quickly to see Annabelle and her tag along friends walking you in disgust. She walked slowly towards you, eyeing you over in the same fashion that a farmer would to a cow he was interested in buying. You swallowed hard and resumed dressing. Trying in vain to ignore her clicking her tongue and giggling at your discomfort.

“What? No smart words coming from you now y/n? Oh I get it! You only grow a spine when those loser faggots are around you. Do you really think trying to look tough will make them want you? Your pathetic.”

“Look Annabelle just leave me alone!”

“Oh look! She speaks! Hmmmm and why would I do that y/n? It’s so fun to see you cry and then STILL get into trouble for it! Don’t you get it yet? Your nothing, you never will be anything in your entire life. Well maybe you’ll be pumping gas into my Mercedes one day but that’s aiming pretty high as it is”

Her two cronies trilled sickening giggled as she finished. Copying her exact words to you. You felt the tears begin yet again to well in your eyes. No. Not this bullshit again! You were so very very tired of the same shit from this fucking bitch day in and day out. As she laughed at you distracted by her sense of entitlement and security in regards to how your school operated, your fist curled into a tight ball, connecting perfectly with her chin. Knocking her into her buddies and therefore all 3 collapsing to the ground.

She stared at you in shock before her face contorted into a hideous snarl as she launched herself at you. The other two quickly following suit. As they pinned you to a wall she grabbed a bat discarded nearby from a previous class and smashed into you repeatedly in body. Snarling and cursing at you the entire time. Dropping the bat and curling her own hand into a fist she connected with your face, over and over. She finally grasped your hair tightly in her fist wrenching you face close to hers before she spat on you, then slammed your head back into the lockers.

You vision wavered as she loomed above you, her voice sounding as it it was underwater before turning tail and stomping away, leaving you slumped on the ground bleeding and dazed. It must of only been a few minute but the entire attack felt like it lasted hours. You gingerly picked yourself up off the floor. Wincing in pain with almost every breath.

“Fucking bitch! I’ll kill you you fucking whore I swear to god!”

You muttered under your breath. Fuck this class you thought, grabbing your bag and stumbling out and into the halls. You needed a smoke badly so made a beeline for the smokers pit. You sat on the ground, you back pressed against the wall as the smoke kissed your lungs. You pulled your hood up over so it covered half of your face and stared off into the distance. Wallowing and succumbing to your humiliation and physical pain you shivered as the tears cut salty trails down your face.

“HEY Y/N!!! What you doing skipping troublemaker?”

“Hey were just as bad as her REB”

You flinched as you instantly recognised the voices of your two good friends Eric and Dylan. Keeping silent and your face turned you gave a weak wave of hello before taking another deep drag of your cigarette.
They quickly reached you and lit their own smokes, mumbling to themselves and trying to engage you. Dylan was quick to realise something wasn’t right.

“Y/n…you ok?”

“I’m fine”

“You don’t seem fine”

“I SAID IM FINE!”

“Whoa shit ok ok! Damn! What crawled up your butt and died?”

“Nothing…”

An awkward silence filled the air until you felt a pair of hands drag you up as another pulled back your hood.

“JESUS!! What the hell happened to you y/n?!!”

“Who did this?! I’ll fucking kill them!”

You looked away from them both as they stared in horror at your bruised and bloodied face. Eric gently turning your face and examining you. They looked at each other, silent words flowing between them as they ushered you away with them. You all reached Dylan’s cat and the pushed you gently in. Still in silence. You looked everywhere but their faces. From the back seat you could see Dylan glance at you constantly from his rear mirror. You knew Eric was seething mad by how red his neck was.

You arrived quickly at Eric’s house and they bundled you Down to his room. They say you on the bed and Dylan hurried off into Eric’s bathroom, coming back with a clean cloths and warm water. They both gently washed the blood away from your face and where it had dropped onto your hands and neck.

“You need to take your shirt if y/n”

“What?! No Eric!!”

“Y/n we need to check you over!”

“No Dylan!”

“It’s okay y/n… it’s ok, we honestly just need to check the damage, I can see brushing on your chest, and since you don’t want to tell us what happened…”

You groaned and slowly pulled your shirt off. Fresh tears beginning to drop down your face. They boys exclaimed loudly and cursed as they saw the purple welts beginning to form all over your chest and torso. Dylan touched one close to your stomach making you gasp in pain.

Eric threw his cloth to the ground in fury, knocking the bowl of now cold orange tinted water across the floor demanding to know what had happened and who had done this to you.

“DUDE! You fucking scaring her!”

“I’m sorry V but look at what they’ve done to her! How can you be so calm right now!”

“Her…”

“Y/n?…”

“It wasn’t they…it was her. Annabelle…she was giving me hell so I punched her.”

“That’s our girl!”

Dude!“

Dylan glowered at Eric who was far too pleased that you’d thrown the 1st punch.

“What Dylan? Annabelle is always kicking y/n around! I’m happy she clocked her!”

“Well Eric all it got me was her two flunkies pinning me down while she beat the shot out of me with a bat….”

Both Eric and Dylan’s mouth hung open in shock and horror at what you’d just told them. Afterwards their expressions became that of pure hatred. You gingerly pulled your shirt back on. Grimacing in pain at the movements. Eric stood quietly and left the room. Dylan placed his hand on your shoulder telling you that it was all gonna be ok.

“How the fuck will it be ok huh Dylan? Tell me fucking honestly? Coz I don’t see any fucking possible way that it’s gonna be ok. I can’t tell the deans they’ll just say I provoked her!!”

“Trust us when both Dylan and I say…you’ll get revenge. I promise you.”

“Don’t make false promises Eric! She’s won! Yet again!”

Dylan and Eric looked at each other again then at you. Those silent words flowing between them again. Eric placed two pain killers into your hand before offering you water to take them. Eric then sighed deeply, almost sorrowful.

“We never make false promises so we Dylan?”

“No….no we don’t REB.”

Till Death Do Us Part

Part 2 Final Part

Dean Winchester x Reader

2500 Words

Summary: After meeting up with an old ex, you felt a strong pull towards him, unable to fight it. Dean notices somethings wrong, and tries to help you before it’s too late.

Read Part 1 Here

The next morning you woke to an arm stretched over your naked back, and the light on your phone flashing like crazy. Your head hurt, and you couldn’t exactly remember where you were. Grabbing the phone, you saw a couple of missed calls, and multiple missed texts from Dean. Sighing, you read the last one. “Please just let me know you are safe.” This came a couple of hours ago, and you rocketed off an answer, before your head dropped back down on the pillow.

“Morning.” Came the voice next to you, the arm tightening to pull you closer. Rolling over, you smiled at Adam, who leaned in to kiss you lightly.

“Morning.” You said back, climbing out of bed and throwing on some clothes, before standing there, undecided.

“What’s a matter?” Adam asked you, sitting up, the sheet falling to his waist, his upper body bare.

“I just don’t know what to do. What do you want to do?” You asked him, twirling a strand of hair around your finger, acting completely unlike yourself.

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South Jersey Gothic
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  • You’ve done some googling and you know that the Salem Witch Trials took place in Massachusetts. Then who/what? are all these shrouded figures looming around Salem County? What do they want. You try to start a conversation with one. You ask “how are you?” and it answers “dead like you”. You don’t know what this means, but when you look into its eyes you feel an overwhelming amount of fear mixed with warm comfort. You realize you were looking into a mirror. 
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