waits for angry or stupid comments about how ugly it is

popular text posts + ask memes

❛ i don’t know what i’m doing with my life, but i know i’m doing it wrong ❜
❛ i am so cute and bitter ❜
❛ my life is one part ‘wait’ and another part ‘what’ ❜
❛ my #1 talent is saying stupid things to people and immediately regretting it ❜
❛ i love sleeping to avoid problems ❜
❛ i hate myself a lot but i get offended when other people do ❜
❛ i’m hungrier than the neopet i neglected for nine years ❜
❛ hit me up if you wanna date a piece of shit ❜
❛ we need some new and more powerful swears ❜
❛ i get progressively uglier throughout the day ❜
❛ i’m so miserable, but i laugh at everything ❜
❛ i need something that is more than coffee, but less than cocaine ❜
❛ just because you’re trash doesn’t mean you can’t do great things. it’s called garbage can, not garbage cannot. ❜
❛ 90 out of 10 people agree that math is fucking lame ❜
❛ if you think i’m ugly now, you should have seen me in 2009 ❜
❛ 2010 me would literally be terrified of 2016 me and i love it ❜
❛ i have a rare skin condition called close the fucking blinds ❜
❛ hey babe, i made you this mixtape for valentines day. i don’t know many love songs, so it’s just uptown funk 18 times in a row. ❜
❛ there are people who know me in real life who think i’m straight and that’s really funny to me ❜
❛ i was cursed with expensive taste and a low budget ❜
❛ yo dude i trusted you wtf the fuck? what the fuck?? what the fuck what the ❜
❛ open flannel shirts and lingerie are the hottest thing and nobody can convince me otherwise ❜
❛ i’m the weird dad, wine mom, vodka aunt, and gay emo cousin all in one person ❜
❛ that awful moment when you wake up ❜
❛ damn haha i’m going to have to deal with that sooner or later ❜
❛ are we gonna fucking hold hands tonight or what bitch ❜
❛ people our age have children what the hell i am a children ❜
❛ i don’t like your clothes. take them off. ❜
❛ why am i only motivated to sort my life out at 4 am? ❜
❛ after i die, i’ll probably still complain ❜
❛ people are so petty and then here i am, me, an angel ❜
❛ if i don’t insult you daily, it means i don’t like you ❜
❛ do something with your life that would make a 1950s straight white man angry ❜
❛ i need to get laid… to rest. put me in a coffin. let my soul ascend. ❜
❛ i’m trying to be a better person, but some people are testing me ❜
❛ i’m overstressed and underfucked ❜
❛ i can’t wait to be a piece of shit with a bachelors degree ❜
❛ my emo phase never went away, it just aged like fine wine ❜
❛ my whole life consists of wondering whether or not to make the bitchy comment ❜
❛ i don’t have time for people who don’t believe in aliens ❜
❛ the lack of cuddling i am experiencing right now is upsetting ❜
❛ why do good concert tickets happen to bad people ❜
❛ i can’t play hard to get i’m already hard to want ❜
❛ i’m still pissed off about growing up ❜
❛ if you listen carefully, you can hear me whisper ‘shut the fuck up’ at least once every five minutes ❜
❛ when i die i want my heart donated to NASA so they can finally see what a black hole looks like up close ❜

❛ single and ready to take a 20 hour nap ❜
❛ write ‘nothing is set in stone’ on my grave as both a witty joke and a subtle warning that i will be back ❜
❛ how do people even put up with me like i can’t even put up with me ❜
❛ the opening riff to mr. brightside could literally raise me from the dead ❜
❛ stale cinnamon roll, been in this world too long, too cynical  ❜
❛ sorry, i’m poor. i can’t afford to pay attention ❜
❛ aziz ansari’s voice in the back of my head faintly telling me to treat myself is going to be my downfall ❜
❛ is it too late to wrap myself up like a baby and drop myself off on a billionaire’s doorstep? ❜
❛ my neutral expression makes me look like i’m always in a bad mood which is convenient because it’s usually true ❜
❛ i never run voluntarily so if you ever see me running you should start running too because something is coming ❜

all to myself: vlog 4

“It’s hard to be a vlogger when half your subscribers care more about your hot friends than you.”
- Y/N, from her April 23, 2016 vlog titled ‘Jimin shows his stupid abs 8 times (not clickbait)

↳ vlogger au
pairing: jimin x reader, yoongi x reader

teaser&info | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | on-going

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Party Games 5


How to fall for your enemy—A Dummies Guide

[1. Set the game] [2. Play like you mean it] [3. Keep playing and don’t ask] [4. Poker Face] [5. Play dirty] [6. Show him what you’ve got] [7. Don’t fall in the trap] [8. Cards on the table] [9. Play the game of love]

Summary: Playing games is an innocent and harmless thing to do. Except when it’s not. You get so caught up in the game that don’t know if you are playing or not anymore, and then… Well. Then you burn

Chapter word count: ~3.2k

Rating: M

Tags: Watford, eighth year AU, alcohol, enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, NSFW, smut, mutual pining, fluff, alternating POV first person

Also on AO3

Thank you @eroticgropefest for being my amazing beta!

@ellea-nikki, @indigo-gold-17 here you go ♡ ♡

5. Play dirty: Try slapping when kisses don’t work


“Four times?” Penny is giving me a Simon-are-you-off-your-trolley stare that not even her thick glasses can buffer. “You’ve slept with him four times,” she accuses, rather than asks. Pure Penny style.

“Not with him,” I tell her. “Beside him, rather.”

She adjusts her glasses with her middle finger and decides she’s done with lunch. “Different preposition,” she says. “Same difference.” She’s now giving me her patented Judgemental Stare. This is bad.

“Merlin, Penny,” I protest, taking her plate and stuffing the last piece of roast beef in my mouth. “There’s a huge difference, and you know it,” I mumble.

“Fine,” she gives in, softening her features. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah.” I fix my eyes on the now empty plate. If only we were allowed to repeat lunch, then I could avoid this conversation. Plus, more food. Double win. “Baz is evil and has a plan to finish me off, but I’m one step ahead this time,” I say, my eyes still on the plate.

“I’ll regret asking this later but,” Penny pauses for a moment, as if reconsidering it. “What is this evil plan, exactly?”

“Oh, uhm,” I say to the plate. “Baz is… Trying to…” I take a breath and say, “He wants to seduce me and attack me when my guard is down.”

Penny lets out a laugh. A loud one.

In my defense I’ll say it sounded better in my head. Why do some things lose all sense when you say them aloud?

I look up at her again.

“Nicks and Slick, you’re serious,” she realizes. “Attack you how? With his mouth?” She tries and fails to suppress another laugh, then continues, “So what are you doing to fight this terrifying plan of his?”

“I’m making him fall for me instead.”

“I think you have no idea what you’re doing,” she says, so matter-of-factly that it leaves no place for arguing. Penny usually has that effect on people.

Breaking news – I may have no idea what I’m doing.

We start heading out of the dining hall in silence and I think she’s going to leave without any further discussion when she stops and turns around, looking at me. Studying me. Penelope’s studying face can be very frightening. Hands down one of the most terrifying things I’ve seen. And I’ve killed a dragon. “Are you sure you don’t…” she starts. “Like him?”

Wait. What?

“I don’t like Baz,” I hurry to say. “He’s the enemy.”

“You’ve slept with the enemy, Simon,” she says. “Four times.”

“I’ve slept beside the enemy. Since first year,” I clarify. “And you kissed Agatha during the game, too, that doesn’t mean you like her, does it?”

“Yeah but we don’t go around snogging between classes.”

“You saw that?”

“You’re not being as sneaky as you think.”

“Anyway, it’s not like he likes me either… He hates me,” I say, realising for the first time that I’m not exactly happy about that. “And I don’t like him,” I add.

“Okay,” Penny says.

I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t like him,” I repeat.

“Sure, Simon.” I can see she’s trying hard not to laugh.

“I don’t,” I insist.

Penny raises one of her accusing eyebrows and says, “Nobody said you did.”

“You asked. I just want to make it clear.”

“Yeah, Simon. You made it clear.” Penny stares me down, smiling like she knows better. (She always does.) (Know better.)

“Let’s play Slap or Kiss tomorrow and you’ll see,” I suggest. “I’m going to slap him so hard.”

“What about the evil plan and your,” she pauses. I see the corners of her lips fighting a smirk. “Clever comeback?”

“This will confuse him.”



“It’s ridiculous,” she says. “This will backfire. Spectacularly. Like most of your plans do.”

Okay, she has a point.

“I don’t. Like him,” I insist for the last time.

“Okay,” Penny finally concedes. She breaks her know-it-all façade and grabs my arm.  “Just– Be careful.”

Keep reading

Reasons Why (Thomas Jefferson x Reader)

Words: 3480
Warnings: Cursing, mobile formatting
A/N: Here’s something while I’m on the plane :)


Your unique attitude .

Thomas walked into the room, holding a book in his hands. It was Finals week, and everyone was stressed out. The library was filled, students cramming, crying, and regretting their life choices. But not Thomas, of course. He took everything with a grain of salt. He didn’t have to strain himself like the others. He knew that he would pass. Some say that he was cocky, but he dismissed those comments as jealousy. Confidence is what they needed, and Thomas had it.

He noticed a woman sitting in the corner of the room, headphones on and hair a mess. He usually would ignore someone concentrating, but, there was something different. You were wearing an old college hoodie, holes in your sleeves. You were chewing on a straw, flipping through pages. You looked, strange. You were smiling.

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Because I Like You

Word Count: 1670

    A/N: this is a touch of Jealous/Protective!Jughead, but I have one more coming out here fairly soon that will be even more jelaous-y and protective-y and possessive-y than this so yay! *squeal* I hope you all enjoy lol!

Originally posted by beaniesxponytails


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Luke Hemmings - My Dirty Little Secret

Pairing: Luke and Y/N

Word Count: 5.6k+

Rating: smut smut smut

Requested: Nah

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Starco Week 3 - Bad Boy x Princess

Ok, so I didn’t really know what to do (didn’t have time to do an audio thing because I wasn’t able to plan for it) SOOOOO I decided I’d write a fic :p
So here it is! @starcoweek3 (based on the au by @fullertoons)

This ended up having some drama into it, so uh, yea, watch out. SORRY FOR BEING A DAY LATE!!

My first fic, so RIP my career

Thanks for reading!

The Date

“Uuugh” the young princess thought, patiently impatient to her date’s antics. “He better have a good reason for this!” Her thoughts harrumphed in a loud silence.

“Hey Princess~”, the lax, still maturing, voice called out from behind Star. The princess whipped around, trying to hide the daggers in her stare, but failing.“Oh I’m sorry, were you waiting for me long? I’m soooo sorry~.” Marco said sarcastically, with a devilish grin. The leather-jacketed boy walked up to Star, closer than the girl had anticipated. “N-no, I just got here!” Star stammered back shyly, blushing slightly.

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Cruising and Crushing

Summary Request:Dean has a huge crush on the reader but keeps it hidden until the reader has a date so he and Cas follow her and hear the date insulting her size and Dean comes unglued. All fluffy and funny. Pleeease. 

Characters: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language

Content: Angst and Fluff at the End

Word Count: 1372

A/N: I couldn’t just write straight fluff for this. Sorry!

Originally posted by theccaroline

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Thank You

Anonymous requested: One shot with Chloe Bennet in which the cast goes to a bar and the reader gets insulted for being bi and she defends her and ends with some cute fluff. Pleaseee?? i love everything you write 💓💓

Fandom: Agents of SHIELD (cast)
Pairing: Chloe Bennet x bi!reader
Word count: 1.5k+
Warnings: Biphobia, drinking

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Family Friend

Imagine: You and Kol having a mutual hate relationship even though you are friends with his family, one night you argue and he kisses you to shut you up. (Requested ~Smut~)

“Y/N come in, you look stunning.” Klaus welcomed you into his home, grabbing your hand in his and politely helping you inside. You blushed, looking down at your attire. A baby blue dress that stopped mid thigh and a pair of matching sandals, your toenails painted a deep Crimson. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to wear such an outfit with Vampires in the room but the Mikaelsons were your best friends.

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Imagine a female version of Killing Stalking where instead of killing women Sangwoo would play out the goody two shoes sweet girl role but kills men and works the fuck out in her free time like some bad ass. She would be tall, beautiful, lovely long dark hair with some blonde hightlights.

She hates guys with a passion because of sexual abuse by her father and perhaps some physical towards her mother. But maybe at one point before it started happening she was a true daddy’s little girl who adored him before he became her own monster. The story would have gone the same way where she kills her father and her mother, she hates her mother because she was never believed or she never helped her. 

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Pure-Love | Draco Malfoy X Reader

English isn’t my first language, so please excuse any mistakes.

Request: Hello! It would be amazing if you would please write a fluffy Draco Malfoy x reader where (Y/N) and Draco have always been friends, but unlike Draco, (Y/N) see’s the world in a different light. She believes there’s good where you look for it, the mud bloods are equals, etc. When she’s forced to become a Death Eater she’s devastated, but Draco is there for her like always.

Characters: Draco/fem!reader. Hermione and Sirius are mentioned.

Word Count: 1619 words.

Coming from a pure-blood family had its consequences. Most of them had rules, ways of acting were imposed in members since childhood. (Y/N) didn’t escape it. Her family was a traditional pure-blood family. Arrogant and hateful. Typical people who think they are better than everyone else.

One of the rules that was employed in this type of family was simple: be proud of your blood and pride the name of your family, and that meant: lower all others who aren’t like us to make us look better. And for that, all the people with whom (Y/N) had contact during her childhood was just as worse as her family.

During her growth, she attended several meetings that those families had. She had never understood the reason for it, but her mother made her go, always sending an ugly look to the girl when (Y/N) questioned her. Don’t question your ideals, just follow them. In one of those meetings she first met Draco Malfoy when she was presented to his family, which was close to hers. Both children were left out while the adults settled their own things, then they just start to like each other when the meetings began to be more and more frequent. As time went by, they began to ask their parents if they could see each other even when there was no meeting. They were both only children, they felt lonely at home.

Over the years, the two just became more and more friends. They would soon be in Hogwarts and could hardly wait for this moment to arrive. (Y/N) had never felt different from the rest of her family, even though she had realized that sometimes she disagreed with something they did. But she just noticed that maybe was something wrong with her in one of her conversations with Draco.

Both wanted to get in Slytherin, they had been raised hearing that everyone in the family had been part of that house and they hoped to continue the tradition. They were talking about it when Draco left out a nasty comment about the mudbloods. When the eleven-year old girl heard those words coming out her best friend’s mouth, a frown formed on her face and she felt uncomfortable. This has not gone unnoticed by the boy, but he didn’t seem interested in asking her about it. Or just didn’t want to leave the conversation even odder than it already was.

After that incident she began to hear that expression even more. Her parents themselves talked like that, something that she had never noticed before. And when asked about it, (Y/N) would refer to them as muggle-borns, getting some dirty looks from people around her. She didn’t understand why these people had so much hatred of those who had not wizarding parents. She didn’t understand why the different was bad. She didn’t understand why so much hate.

That was when she noticed: she wasn’t like them. And she wasn’t the only one to have noticed that. Soon everyone knew that the (Y/L/N)’s daughter sympathized with muggle-borns. Some of them talked about how she would be the “Sirius Black” of the new generation. And when some families began to avoid the child and her parents, she was punished. No one wants to be friends with a blood traitor. At least almost no one. Draco didn’t seem bothered to keep talking to her, although he avoid touching the subject “mudblood” when he was near her.

And so went another few years. They went to school and entered in Slytherin, which left (Y/N) very relieved because she was afraid of what might happen to her if she got in some other house. Draco made friends there, many because of his last name, but he never left (Y/N) aside. Yet the girl had a bit of difficulty in order to fit in her house, as the rumors had run fast by pure-blood families. She had friends, but not necessarily of her house. Not necessarily the kind of friends her parentes would approve.

The girl often looked at Draco and couldn’t understand why they were friends, especially at times he made fun of muggle-borns, especially Hermione Granger. But (Y/N) gave some ugly glances for her best friend when she saw him doing things like that, which made him walk away, but not before telling a final joke about the person he decided to tease.

Any of her friends also seemed to understand the reason of their friendship. But when Draco wasn’t playing the stupid Slytherin bully, when he was not acting for status, when he was being himself, he was a nice kid. He was a golden boy, and it was a pity that only her could see it. (Y/N) couldn’t forget all the times that parents punished her for something she had said or the way she had acted and Draco had been by her side, comforting her, though he didn’t seem sure of what to say to the sad girl.

After they had entered Hogwarts, her parents stopped annoying her so much. (Y/N) received several letters talking about the filthy people she was befriending with, but she just ignored and threw them away. Of course, every year when she returned home there were two angry people waiting for her at the door, but she seemed every time care less about it, which made Draco relieved. He wasn’t a good shoulder to cry on and didn’t like to see his sweet girl sad, so he was happy to see that her parents didn’t affect her anymore. He didn’t need to see her crying.

Until that day, at least.

Things had changed for them. They had stopped to talk much to each other. Draco was a Death Eater. It wasn’t so surprising to him, he had basically been created for this. But he was shocked to learn that the sweet little (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had become one too, short time after him. Her parents thought that way she would begin to see things as she should. Upon hearing the news that he began to notice that he was seeing (Y/N) less than before, she was quieter, she wasn’t being herself. Then he went looking for her when she didn’t appear at dinner.

Draco found her sitting against the walls of the common room. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red. A few tears were still running down her face and some sobs leave her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, slowly coming near her.

(Y/N) just gave him a cold look. She knew he knew what was wrong. Draco sighed, sitting beside her awkwardly.

“Don’t be like that.” he remembered because he hated when (Y/N) was sad, he never knew what to say. The girl rolled her eyes.

“Thank you for your help.”

His hand went to her shoulder in a comforting gesture. He opened his mouth again, trying to find words to calm her down.

“If you will say that you understand, give up, because you don’t.” she said getting up, wiping the tears from her face.

“And what makes you think I don’t understand how you feel?” he stood up, getting a glare from the girl.

“You don’t understand because you’re just like them.” some tears began to come down (Y/N)’s face. “I’m not like any of you, I will never be. I don’t belong here.”

Draco didn’t know why… Perhaps the way she had spoken it, perhaps the hateful look that his best friend was sending him… But that was the first time he was offended by being compared to his family. He was ready to respond, to deny that he was like his father, when he remembered that it wasn’t about him, it was about her.

“You’re right, I don’t understand you. But I know you. I know you well enough to know that you are better than all these people. And it’s not a mark on your arm that will change that.” her eyes lit for a few seconds with his words before returning to fade.

“It’s not just the mark.” she threw herself on the couch. “The things I will have to do. The people will have to be with.”

“You aren’t like them just to be with them.” he sat beside her, holding her awkwardly aside. It had been so long that he didn’t do this to her. “It’s not your fault.”

(Y/N) slowly allowed her head to lean on Draco’s shoulder, moving her arms around his waist. The boy’s body tensed at first, but was softening, bringing his best friend closer to him, leaving a kiss on her hair.

“I’m afraid.” she said after a while.

He couldn’t deny that he was too, but the only thing he could pay attention at the time was the fragility of the girl in his arms. Then he just rubbed her arms, letting out a:

“Don’t worry. We’ll be together, I will not let anything bad happen to you.”

She just muttered something in response, snuggling even more against his body.

(Y/N) looked up shyly toward the blonde’s face, making him look down at her. She gave a smile before attaching their lips quickly, then pulling away and returning to leave her head on his shoulder.

A small goof smile appeared on his face as he comforted himself closer to the girl.

“I’m glad I have you.” he said. “You are the only thing that is preventing me from turning into my father.”

The girl chuckled, and as she watched the other Slytherins coming in the common room, looking at them curiously, (Y/N) was sure of only one thing: having the same worldview or not, she and Draco would be together through thick and thin. Always.


I'm Sorry (Draco Malfoy Imagine)


Requested- Can you do a Draco Malfoy imagine when he’s always been really horrible to you and after the years one day he sees you crying because he’s constantly mean to you and he admits his feelings for you but you’re too angry to forgive him so he fights for you and eventually you forgive him and then become a couple? Love your imagines!

gif not mine

Originally posted by imaginesandmoreforfandom

Draco Malfoy was always as rude as anyone could possibly be. He was especially mean to you, though you never knew why. You hated being looked down, so you never showed any weakness towards his remarks. But it seemed like he would never stop taunting you.

“Wearing new robes, huh? Don’t bother, you couldn’t look any worse than you already are.” Draco walked passed you and bumped you right into your shoulder, causing your books to fall on the ground. You said nothing and rolled your eyes as you tried to pick them up. 

“Well then keep your eyes off me, arsehole.” You stepped away and found your way back into your dorm. You looked into the mirror, glancing at your reflection. Your robes looked perfectly fine, so did you. Sighing, you sat down on your bed and threw your books on the floor. Why does he have to be like this? You thought. 

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Angry Sex

It would be after a particularly rough Quidditch match, Calum angrily stomping into the empty showers long after his defeated team had left, his slightly smirking girlfriend in tow.

“Need a stress relief, babe?” She’d mock, dropping her robes to the floor and pulling her stressed boyfriend’s off as well, his beautiful golden body leaving her in awe, despite the countless times she’d seen him bare.

He’d crush his mouth to hers in loo of an answer, using his wide hands to lift her up with ease as she flicked on the water, steam starting to fog up the mirrors and leave their burning skin damp.

Calum would hold her against the wall, his face buried into her neck as he sucked bruises into her soft skin, earning a loud whimper from his lover.

“Cal.” She’d mewl, knowing that unlike their usual tangles underneath the sheets, this time he would be focused on chasing his own release, all of his pent up anger and frustration not causing him to want to take care of her needs.

She bit into his shoulder roughly as he positioned himself at her dripping entrance, the water cascading down their soon-to-be-joined bodies and leaving her hands sliding against his slick back.

Calum groaned in pleasure once he dropped his girl’s body down onto his length at the same time that he jutted his hips forward, and he heard her loud moan at the intrusion.

Unlike the other times that they’d made love, Calum wasn’t doing all he could to please his princess, but he was only focused on himself coming to a release.

He fucked her roughly against the wall, kneading her breasts in one of his large palms as he continued to suck hickeys into her throat and collarbone.

He could hear her screaming out his name, but all that mattered to him at the moment was the growing tightness in his balls, signaling his imminent release.

She shuddered as he pulled out and painted her stomach with his release, feeling herself climax at the hot splashes on her belly, screaming in pleasure despite the pain in her hips and tit from his rough touch.

Calum gently let go of her, his now cleared head leaving him with the guilt of the already bruised skin on her hips, throat, and breast.

He slid to his knees, pressing gentle kisses to her hip bones that were a darkening purple color, before doing the same to the fingerprints around her breast and the round hickey on her neck and shoulders.

She sighed in content as his lips and tongue soothed the pain from her skin, bringing his lips up to hers for a gentle kiss.

“I may have lost tonight, but I’m still a winner with you by my side.” He’d mumble against your smiling lips before shutting off the water and wrapping you in several fuzzy towels.


And it would be after he heard one of your housemates going on about how odd it was that a babe like you was dating a square like him.

He’d pull you into the Prefect’s bathroom, capturing your mouth with his and quickly undressing you both before entering the massive tub, filled to the brim with pink foam and purple water, your favorite combination.

You’d break away to ask him what had gotten him so riled up, but he entered you unexpectedly, your words cutting off into a high-pitched moan as your normally reserved boyfriend fucked you roughly against the side of the tub.

He’d bounce you up and down on his length, his teeth nipping into your neck as you’d call out his name, the sound echoing around the room.

And he’d watch with hooded eyes as the door would open, the boy from earlier gaping at the sight in front of him before he’d close the door and rush off, Luke smirking because he knew that the boy took his bathes at this time every night.

So he’d make sure that you didn’t forget whose girl you were, and that the slight wobble to your step wouldn’t let the Gryffindor forget it either.

Luke would slow down a bit now that his plan of the loudmouthed boy seeing him fuck you senseless had succeeded, and he’d push one of the knobs, letting the water quickly drain out until there were only a few inches left.

He’d pull out and gently lay you on your back, kissing over the reddened skin of your hips before sliding back in slowly, letting you stretch around him.

“Sh-Shit, Lu.” You’d whine as he lapped his tongue against yours as he rocked in and out of your shaking body until you came around him, your tightness bringing him to his climax as he came inside of you, his breath faltering against your mouth.

And you’d lie there for a moment as the water began refilling the tub, Luke pulling you up to rest on his lap as he gently washed your hair until you were strong enough to do it yourself.


The stupid Potions master had done it again, calling Ashton out in class for not completing his task correctly.

He would fume silently as you knew just what was waiting in the free period that you had next, and not minding one but that Ash would use you as his stress reliever.

It would be in the broom closet on an empty corridor, Ashton dropping your books to the ground (since he’d insist on carrying them to every class) before he’d look up to see you already bare, save for the tie that he loved pulling as you both got a bit rough in the sack.

He’d waste no time in starting, immediately dropping to his knees to get you ready, not wanting to hurt you anymore than his thick length already would, and you’d bite on the tie as his fingers would prod into you, stretching you and getting you wet in anticipation for the great angry sex.

Once he deemed you ready, he’d stand up, hooking your legs around his waist as he roughly entered you, your teeth sinking into his neck to silence your screams.

He’d rut his hips forward, thrusting into you as you’d groan and whimper, him pulling your head up from his shoulder to connect your lips, mumbling between pants, “I… Love… You.”

You’d whine at his words, not able to respond but you clench around him, and he knows that you feel the same way.

He’d begin moving your body to meet his thrusts, ultimately pounding you deeper into the stone wall, but you don’t mind because he’s so far deep into you.

And as you’d reach your climax, he’d thrust harder and quicker, you screaming out his name as you came all over him, Ash pulling out once you settled down and coming all over your quivering stomach.

He’d rest his forehead against yours as you’d catch your breath, him unraveling a bandana that he uses in Quidditch to wipe your stomach clean before pressing a kiss to your belly button, gently sponging them up to your upturned lips.


Michael wasn’t one for sweet love making, but once he met you, that all went out the window.

It had been ages since he’d been balls deep inside of someone, chasing his own release and not paying any mind to the little minx below him.

You’d taken a trip down to Hogsmeade when an ugly girl from house called out that he’d gone soft, and for some reason, that irked him straight to the core.

So once you exited Zonkos, Mikey pulled back up to the castle, his jaw ticking the whole way, only slowing down once you’d asked if you had done something wrong.

“No, love. It’s just something someone said to me.” He’d sigh ashamed, no longer hellbent on taking you up to his dorm and making you scream loud enough for the whole castle to hear.

“If it’s about that wrench commenting on our vanilla sex life, I was quite looking forward to proving her wrong.” You’d mumble casually before taking off into the direction of the dungeon.

He’d join eagerly, quickly stripping you down once you’d get into his empty dorm, passing a few kids in the common room.

You were no saint, and most Slytherins already knew that, but you were going to make sure that the girl from Hogsmeade left Mikey alone after this.

You didn’t have to exaggerate your scream once he slammed into you, catching you off guard before he began fucking roughly up into you, your gasps and moans echoing.

“M-Mikey…” He’d smirk at your euphoric face, leaning down to suckle on your nipples that were peaked from the cold, and he’d only suck harder as you’d groan at the sensation.

His hips would slam into yours as he’d bounce you on his length, hitting you so deep and hard, you had to grip onto his jet black hair to keep from falling.

He’s impossibly speed up one you’d tighten around him, a high-pitched whine leaving your lips as you climaxed at the same time your boy did, Mike still slamming up into you as he kneaded your ass cheeks.

Once you’d both calmed down, he’d pull out of you, a mixture of both of your release sliding down your legs as he wiped it up with a few tissues.

He’d mumble out a thank you into your neck, knowing that you didn’t particularly enjoy being treated as a tool for sex, but you did it for him.

You just smiled as you walked hand in hand down to the common room, past the nosy girl from earlier, the scent of sweat and sex lingering long after you’d both gone.

One hundred to zero

Word Count: 2615

TW: Homophobic slurs, swearing

Genre: AU, Highschool, Fluff

Author Note: I had such a good time writing this! I’m finally writing again as well!!

Summary: Dan is a stereotypical high school hottie, but after he comes out as bisexual he starts getting harassed and bullied by the whole school. one day, someone goes to far and he leaves class in tears. after taking a couple laps around the school, he notices a small, secret room that is only visible by one angle. he decides to go in and take a nap, but when he turns on the light, he notices phil lester, the skinny black haired boy who was his science partner a couple months ago, with the pale skin and the big glasses, in the corner, writing furiously in his worn-out notebook.


Keep reading

No Good With Words

Song: You There - Aquilo (absolutely beautiful song).

Summary: reader gets cheated on by her non-hunter boyfriend. Dean comes to save the day, and lets a few things slip that he thinks she won’t hear… This oneshot was based on this imagine.

and was highly requested as a full fic.

Words: 3104.

Warnings: insecurity, swearing I suppose?, sensual semi-smut (but it is way too graceful to be erotic tbh…), so much fluff you might die.

A/N: it’s finally here! The one you’ve been waiting for… or one of the many ones. Dean’s a cheesy bugger when he wants to be, huh? @jordanwinchesterimagines, here is what we’ve discussed… Also @but-deans-back-tho if you want this on your little Hump Day smut break section as it’s only semi-smut, or the, er, smut section (if it makes the cut), you are always welcome. Enjoy and feed back please, everyone! BTW sorry it’s A) short and B) shit x


Come pick me up? Caught him with another girl again. Waiting for the ‘I told you so’… you typed, and hit send to your best friend, Dean.

On my way, sweetheart. Hang in there. he responded almost immediately.

Sighing, you planted yourself down on the brick wall outside your now-ex boyfriend’s house, your weight dropping as if it were from a great height. Dean had warned you last time you walked in on him with another girl that he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again… but you had trusted him and brushed Dean’s comment off. Rendered second best by some stupid guy who didn’t even hunt, again. How could you have been so stupid?

You heard the familiar rumble of the Impala coming to a halt after a few minutes of numb, thoughtless teeth-chattering. Dean swung the door open and clambered out, directly into the path of the light from the nearest lamppost. The smile you had donned upon witnessing his arrival quickly dissolved and reversed once you saw the look on his face. He never looked that angry unless he’d… unless he’d killed.

Jogging across the road and nimbly dodging a beeping car, he reached you and pulled you up from where you were seated.

“Hey, y/n-y. You go get in the car, I’ll go a little ape and show him who’s boss, and then we’ll go out for a burger, just you and me, ‘kay?”

Finally, a real, genuine grin crossed your countenance. “Sounds perfect.”

“No,” he began, “it’ll be perfect if I can scrape up the cash to buy you an extra large milkshake” he squeezed your bicep and smirked, before turning away from you and marching towards to door of the house like a soldier on their way to stand to attention. Feeling free to, well, let himself in, he left the door open behind him carelessly.

Bored and somehow forgetting about the Impala, you wandered up to the entrance to the house restlessly. Overhearing yelling coming from a distinctive, furious, I-only-appear-once-a-year-or-so side of Dean, you edged round to the wall beside the door, so you could hear without being seen.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?!”

“Relax, dude” your ex stuttered nervously. Upon peeking your head round the door timidly, you observed that he was backing away to a wall in the hallway, Dean driving him into the surface, which his back eventually hit. “It was just a random hook up, she wasn’t supposed to find ou-”

“Now, Mister freakin’ pencil dick, I’m gonna be straight with you” Dean grimaced, and in one sweep of his arm, had the other man pinned against the wall by the neck.

“Let me- let me go, what are you-”

“So, you land y/n. A beautiful girl. No, the most beautiful girl in the world to me. To you too, probably.”

Your head whipped back to the wall, and your eyes widened in shock. What?

“You manage to score y/n. And you… you know, there are people out there who would kill to do what you got to do” his voice was at a growl, now, it was so vicious. “You got to… you got the chance to kiss her, to hold her, tell her how beautiful she is, make her feel so goddamn good… hell, you got the chance to make her feel beautiful, too. And you friggin blew it, man!” his voice transformed from low and deadly to a spit-generating yell.

Your ex just stared.

“But, now, you fucking dick” he snarled, “now, she thinks she’s ugly. You know, the first time she caught you cheating she wasn’t even angry? She just told me how much better the other girl looked than her. She was like ‘oh, well I get why he did it, I mean, she had big boobs and a big ass and long flowing hair’, and she just listed all these things, but she’s fucking better everyone I’ve ever known!”

Dean’s voice dropped now, and he sounded resigned. “She’s better than all of them.”

With a forceful shove, he let the man go.


“You really didn’t have to pay for this, Dean” your voice was muffled due to a mouth full of beef.

“Don’t mention it, kiddo” Dean chew-talked back. “My treat. And I didn’t even have to get a scammy credit card out for the milkshake, either” he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, encouraging you to be impressed.

“Is everything alright?” a waiter approached the table, on a routine check of the diner.

“Awesome, thank you. Sorry, got my mouth full” he smiled a hamster-like smile at her.

“How would you like to have your mouth full of something else later?” the waiter said, winking at him in an attempt at seduction.

“Excuse me?” Dean very near spat his chips onto the plate where he’d collected them from.

“I- I meant…” she trailed off, the strike of confidence in her a few moments ago evidently fizzled out.

“I’m obviously with someone, and you go and disrespect her like that as if I’d abandon her?!” the man accompanying you could be intimidating when he wanted to be, and this was sure as hell one of those times.

Awkwardly, the waiter shuffled back and forth a couple of inches on her feet for a couple of seconds.

“Do you want a friggin’ tip or not?! Get lost!”

She scuttled away, Dean’s frightening side obviously winning over his attractive one, here.

“Sorry about that” he shook his head and returned to his food, as if he had anything to apologise for.

“No, I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t wanna… crash your party” you attempted to express how you didn’t want to deny Dean of opportunities.

“y/n, don’t apologise. I was the one that took you here, bought you food, hung out with you. It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to” he grinned, fist nudging your shoulder lightly, teasing you.

“I can’t believe you know a song that isn’t classic rock!” you punched his arm slightly harder, giggling a little as you did so.

“Shut up” he mumbled playfully, licking his lips and beaming back at you.

For a while, there was only silence between the two of you as you ate (and in your case, drank).“Why does that never happen to me, Dean?” you asked, your brow furrowing at your pondering.

“What?” Dean pulled his gaze back from out of the window.

“Why do people never… why do people never do what that waiter did to you? I see people wanting to… wanting to get with you all the time… why does no one ever even come up to me?”

Dean looked at you, right then. He really looked at you. It felt as if his gaze was spanning every inch of you, not just your body, but your mind, too, your soul. He looked at you, and an expression you’d never seen on his face before appeared in place of his resting one.

“You know,” you began, pushing the last couple of chips around your plate like they were being chased round a car park. “Sometimes I just wish God had made me beautiful.”

You avoided Dean’s gaze, but he must have seen tears stinging your eyes. 

“Hey” he rubbed your shoulder, causing you to flick your eyes up at him. It felt forced. Every move did, in that moment. “Let’s get back to the bunker, okay?”

You merely nodded.

On the drive back, you worked yourself up into even more of a state mentally. As Dean hummed along to early 80s rock ballads softly, probably not even realising he was doing it, you grimaced bitterly and shook your head. What the hell did you think he was gonna do? Pick you up bridal style and whisk you off home to show you exactly how beautiful he thought you were? As if… 

Those things he said to your ex boyfriend… you couldn’t make them out clearly anyway. And if what you thought you had heard was what he’d actually said, well, he was probably only saying it to protect you… why would he mean it?


Half an hour later, you approached Dean’s room, hot chocolate in hand. You hadn’t wanted to disturb or wake Sam by sorting out your own laundry and finding something to wear straight from the dryer, so Dean had leant you a t shirt and a pair of boxers (which he claimed he’d never worn before, but still smelled like him) of his to wear to bed. 

“You know what I think you’d like?” you proposed, propping up the pillow and fidgeting to settle down on the other side of the bed to where Dean was situated, your drink now soon to be forgotten on the bedside table. “Gossip Girl.”

“Come on, kiddo… you can’t be serious. It sounds like it’s for pre-teens!”

“Shut up and watch one episode, ‘kay?” you chuckled despite your record breaking low mood.

3 episodes later and the closing credits were rolling once again. You were curled up against Dean’s side, his arm slung around you. His touch made you tingle, even with the smallest of contact, so this was pushing you towards overdrive. Friends did this, all the time, it didn’t even mean anything, but-

“I think you’re beautiful.” Dean said. He stared straight ahead, and spoke quietly, as if he was afraid.

“I think you’re adorable when you come out of your room in the mornings and your hair is all messy and you’re in a baggy shirt and panties.” A pause. “I think you’re gorgeous when you dress in your normal clothes and not hunting ones, even if it’s just putting a new shirt on to go to the bar.” Another pause. “I think you’re hot as hell when you’ve just come out of a hunt, when your clothes are all ripped and there’s blood all over you.” You could see, now, that he had been crafting what to say in his head to the very letter for hours. He’d probably deleted sentences in his mind, started over dozens of times. “I think you’re so, so pretty when you put on a nice dress or a… or a skirt or whatever it is, even to interview someone for a case.”

No. He couldn’t be… He couldn’t.

Your mind was racing, trying to come up with any possible liable excuse for it… maybe misheard him, or he was possessed because there was a malfunction with his tattoo, or… 

You saw it as impossible, refusing to believe it and you would take any option other than him not meaning it. After all this time, why would he suddenly express this? Why would you suddenly deserve him? 

“Remember” you proposed. “Remember when we were at that bar? And y- and you… you told me you like, ya know, girls with big arses?" 

No response from Dean. Despite the lack of reciprocation, you could sense that he recognised the moment you were reminiscing about from the manner in which you felt him tense his muscles beside you.

"You were saying to me, you said something about big boobs and nudged me and I laughed but then my voice cracked and I didn’t talk for the rest of the night.”

Your right leg, which Dean’s hand had been relatively close to, shook.

“I- A few days l-later, you brought a lady home, and she was… she was really pretty. And lovely too, when she spoke to me and I heard- our rooms are next to each other, and the walls are quite thin and I- I pressed my ear against the wall and listened to you giggling with her and calling her baby and telling her how good she… I closed my eyes and pretended I was in that room." 

"I don’t know why you’d- Dean, you knew it’d hurt me, so why lie to me just now? Because some- some guy was… thought the same thing as you?" 

Dean opened his mouth, and there were so many things he could’ve said, that he wanted to say, but simultaneously, his mind went entirely blank. 

Slowly, in a surrendered fashion, you shuffled along the bed and rose from it, landing on your feet. You didn’t want to talk any more, not to him, not to anyone. Not more than you had to.

"Need to put some bottoms on or something” you mumbled so inaudibly that you were entirely surprised when Dean replied.


There was no… there was no other way of… 

“I can’t stand to look at myself” you said plainly, your voice void of all emotion.

“y/n, wait."You turned around, in no rush, your life feeling as if it had transferred into slow motion.

"Sit there. This will just- sit there.” He gestured to the middle of the bed, propelling himself forward by his arms.

Obeying his instruction, you dragged yourself to where Dean requested you situate your body. Literally, you weren’t dragging your own weight, but it was like you were, from the way you felt. You felt heavier than you ever had before.

“I- y/n, I can’t… I can’t do words. I’m sorry, I tried just now, but I- it didn’t…” you knew what he was trying to say.

“I want to… I want to show you something. Show you I- I’m not all talk.”

You didn’t even expect yourself to find the strength to nod, so you looked him in the eyes, and he knew that that was a signal of approval.

“I’m gonna lay you down now, okay?” he informed you gently, and you delivered a weak smile in return.

His hands. His hands were everything you’d ever imagined them to be when they came into contact with each of your sides, lying you on your back as if you were porcelain.  Large, warm, rough yet soft… You were mesmerised by the feeling of his hands. In consequence, it took all of your focus to listen to what Dean uttered next.

“If I- if I touch you when you don’t want to or where you don’t want to, you tell me, sweetheart” he leant over you, not too closely yet not so far that it felt insincere. “I’ll back off straight away. You don’t have to be afraid, I won’t- I won’t hurt you.”

You nodded a couple of times in response.

“Listen, I- I know I said those things and slept with that girl. But I was, y/n, I was- I was trying too hard to make you believe I wasn’t into you. I’m gonna show you exactly what I wanted to do instead. Hell, what that douchebag guy should’ve done. Is that okay?” he bit his lip.

Oh, fuck.

“Yeah. 'Course.” you managed.

“Like I said, if things get uncomfortable, you tell me, yeah?”

You nodded once more.

Dean gently rode up your t shirt so its hem rested just below your chest. Without looking at your face again, he ducked his head down and pressed his lips to your stomach. He allowed them to rest there for a moment, letting his forehead fall to your skin and inhaling deeply. 

After a few minutes, he brought his head up again, if only a little. Soon enough, it came down again and slowly, he was kissing every single spot on your stomach. His mouth was soft, and slightly wet, and warm, and his lips were so plump and he was so fucking pretty. 

By the time he was finished with your stomach, he was flushed in his face. 

Dean was blushing? Hell, that was really damn cute. 

“Uh, it’s getting a bit hot in here” Dean coughed, trying to be inconspicuous, but there was nothing subtle about him slipping his t shirt off. God, obviously you’d seen him shirtless before but…

“Can I take this off?” you felt a light tug on your t shirt and immediately mumbled “yeah”, before putting your arms up and dean pulling it over your head. 

Saying nothing more, Dean returned to his work. 

The flesh of your breasts rose with goose bumps as his lips lingered in turn on every inch of each one. He took such care with each kiss, such caution that you almost melted.

Holding up his weight on his elbows, he lightly brushed his thumbs over each of your nipples, rubbing tender circles into them a few times before returning to his previous position of holding himself with his palms flat on the bed. 

As Dean nuzzled his head into your neck to show that part of your body what he’d just shown your torso, he lifted your left leg up and stroked the underside of your thigh with his fore and middle finger. He then buried his face even deeper into the crook of your neck, so you could feel his five o'clock shadow tickle you a bit, and remained in that position, just breathing in and out, between your legs, while you tried to control your leg that wanted to shake. After, it was your neck that got similar treatment to before, only this time, his kisses were open-mouthed and wetter and fuck, shit, it was the most sensual thing you’d ever experienced and you never wanted it to stop.

“Beautiful” Dean’s lips fluttered up to the corner of your jaw. 

“Gorgeous” he peppered kisses all over your cheek and it was your turn to blush.

“Sexy” he nipped at your nose and smiled down at you afterwards. 

“Such a pretty girl” one prolonged kiss to the other cheek. 

Dean brought his head up again and looked at you. The fingers that had been caressing your thigh halted. 

He drew in a breath, and it looked like he was about to say something. Instead, his lips met yours.

All the other kisses he’d given you had been gorgeous in their own way, but this one felt different. Somehow even more personal than the previous ones. It was slow, his mouth lapping at your own lips, and it felt passionate although it wasn’t fierce - it was ever-gentle, and caring, and when Dean pulled away you suddenly felt as if you had lost something that you were desperately reaching for.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’ve never… Done anything like this for, uh, anybody before…” he cleared his throat. “Do you believe me now?”

You smiled meekly. “Er, yeah.”

“Good. Now can we watch Gossip Girl? I just really need to know what happens with Dan and Sere-”

“I thought it was for 'pre-teens’?” you shook your head light-heartedly.

“Shut up” Dean muttered. 

Dean sat up and lifted you out of his way before leaning back against the headboard of the bed. You pulled your shirt over your head whilst you had a free moment. Angling forward, he pulled you onto his lap and traced patterns on your back, trailing his hand beneath the fabric as the two of you watched the next (five) episode(s), his free arm safely clasped around your waist.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah, babe?" 

Babe. You could get used to that.

"I wish he’d cheated on me sooner.”

Approve [NCT U Taeyong Oneshot]

REQUESTED: Taeyong scenario where you think you don’t deserve his perfect self because you have a lot of flaws thank you so much!!!!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“This is very risky,” I said. “It might ruin your entire career. Imagine what your fans would say.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to keep it a secret anymore,” Taeyong said. “I’m already busy with the schedules and we have to go on dates in secret. I don’t want that. I rather have the whole world know that I love you than tire myself out and worry you.”

“If going on dates for you is too tiring, we can always just take a break until you’re really ready,” I said. “I wouldn’t mind waiting.”

“No, I don’t want that,” Taeyong said with a shook. “I want you, and only you.”

I sigh and looked out at the city. “Taeyong, I hope you know what you’re doing,” I said to him with an uneasy feeling in my heart.


After SM Entertainment confirmed Taeyong’s relationship with me, many NCT fans were talking about it - especially in social medias.

Most of the fans were supportive - of course:

Oh, my god, I’m so happy that they’re together. I ship them so much!

I’m a little upset, but as long as Taeyong is happy, then I’m happy.


I’m so happy that Taeyong found someone that loves him just as much as we do.

They both look so good together <3

Another SM idol in a relationship, this year is definitely the year of love.

I ship TAETEN, but it they both look so good too.

But, of course, there are always people that did not approve of us together:

NO! Taeyong is mine! Go away you b*tch.

NOOOOO! Why did Taeyong choose her? She’s so ugly.

She’s ugly, untalented and fat. She doesn’t deserve him.

I bet she only loves him because he’s famous.

I thought he would have at least choose someone prettier than her.  

Does he like naturally like girls that are ugly? Eww…

Taeyong has been telling me not to read any hate comments on my social media - or any comments, but it’s hard not too.

First, I can barely go out right now because the paparazzi are constantly trying to take photos of me and an angry mob of fans probably called some kind of ninja assassin to assassinate me in my sleep. Which means I’m stuck indoors with nothing to do. I can’t even go out at night!

I don’t blame Taeyong for this, but I wish he didn’t tell everyone yet. Luckily, his fans didn’t affect him much - just me…

I’ll be honest, the comments have been affecting me a lot but I don’t show it in front of Taeyong because I don’t want him to worry about me. I’m already a burden to him anyway.

“Y/N-ah,” Taeyong said as he got dressed. “Let’s go on a date tonight after my practice, okay?”

“But won’t you be tired?” I asked and helped him touch up his hair.

“When I’m with you - never,” Taeyong said and kissed my cheeks - making me blush. “Are you going to go anywhere later?”

“Umm, I don’t think so,” I replied. “I’m a little too tired to go anywhere.”

“Oh, then never mind. I was about to ask you to help me do the groceries because we’re running out of food at home,” Taeyong said. “But, never mind.”

“I’ll go then, don’t worry. I’ll only take a while,” I said with a gentle smile and gave him his bottle. “Do your best in your practice, okay?”

“Okay,” Taeyong replied and gave a quick kiss on my lips before leaving. “Take care.”

“You too,” I replied and looked out the window with a sigh.

“The supermarket is only a few blocks away, what’s the worst that can happen right?” I said to myself and went to change.


“Stay away from our Taeyong!”

“You don’t deserve him!”

“He’s too perfect for you!”

“You have too many flaws to be with our perfect Taeyong!”

“Go and get some plastic surgery! I don’t want Taeyong to kiss an ugly face like you!”

“Your so fat, go and lose some weight!”

“She’s a slut!”

“She’s probably cheating on him with another NCT member!”

“She’s so stupid!”

“Why is she even here!?”

“Fake! Fake! Fake!”

“I don’t usually hate people, but people like you are worth hating on!”

As I entered the apartment, I collapsed onto the floor with tears following in my eyes. I can’t believe that I thought that nothing will happen. How much more stupid can I be?

I didn’t even bother to keep to groceries that I managed to buy before the fans saw me. I just laid on the floor of my apartment thinking about my life choices and the fans comments. They all keep following on my mine and they’re right - except for the slut part, though. I’ve never slept with any NCT member, not even Taeyong.

Taeyong is so precious and his heart has gotten fragile. His heart has already been torn apart by the netizens who keep commenting on his past, and with this…I feel like a burden for him. I don’t deserve to be with someone like him. He needs to be with someone that’s beautiful, smart, funny…someone perfect.

I’m not any of that. I’m ugly, stupid, not funny and not perfect. Even if I try to be, I’ll be nowhere near him. Taeyong’s the closest thing to perfection and I’m the closest thing to trash.

Why did he choose me? Why am I even dating him? Why did he even love me? Does he even love me? Why do I love him? Why did he have to be an idol? Why did I have to be with someone like him? Why is my life like this? I’ve been a good person all my life…even if I did steal my mother’s cupcakes when I was younger - I was still young! You can’t blame me for wanting to eat my mother’s cupcakes…they’re good. Actually, I kind of wish I can have them right now…

What am I thinking? Urgh! I need to stop crying - if Taeyong sees me like this…

“Y/N-ah! I’m home!” Taeyong said happily as he entered.

I looked up and saw his expressions changed drastically.

“W-what happened?” Taeyong asked and ran to hug me on the floor. “Who made my Y/N cry?”

“N-n-no one,” I struggled to say but tried to smile. “I-it’s n-nothing. I-I just miss my parents.”

I sat up straight, wiped my tears away and looked at Taeyong - who didn’t seem convinced. He stood up and walked out the window to see some NCT fans outside the apartment block and immediately understood why I was like this.

He sighed heavily and cuddled me as if I was a teddy bear. “I’m so sorry,” Taeyong said softly. “If I wasn’t so selfish, this wouldn’t happen. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not my fault,” I said immediately.

“It is, if I didn’t tell SM to confirm our relationship, this would have never happened,” Taeyong said.

“Maybe if I was prettier then maybe the fans would approve of me. Or maybe if I was smarter, or maybe if I was skinner, or maybe if I had no flaws - they would approve of me,” I said.

“No,” Taeyong said immediately.

“Yes, that’s what they all say,” I said. “They said that I’m not perfect enough for you.”

“Y/N, my dear, you’re not pretty, smart and definitely not skinny,” Taeyong said.

“What!?” I exclaimed in shock.

“Wait, wait, here me out first,” Taeyong said and I let him continue.

“You’re not pretty because you’re beautiful. You’re not smart because you’re a freaking genius. You’re not skinny because you’re just the right size for me to cuddle,” Taeyong said. “You’re the most perfect thing I have ever had in my entire life.”

I became speechless after hearing him say those words. Sure, Taeyong says that at some point, but this one feels a little bit more special.

“I made her speechless,” Taeyong said and blushed a little.

“Yah!” I said and hit him lightly - making him laugh.

“So, don’t ever think for a second that you’re not perfect for me, okay?” Taeyong said and I nod.

“But, the fans. Some of them won’t approve of me,” I said. “When you’re an idol, your fans’ opinions do matter too.”

“Yes, but it’s not all of them,” Taeyong said. “Besides, my members all approve of you and I definitely approve of you.”


Thank you for requesting a Taeyong scenario! <3 Finally, not a Jaehyun scenario xD But I do love writing about Jaehyun.  I hope you love reading this and don’t ever feel insecure about yourself or anything. <3 I decided to post two because I didn’t post anything yesterday and I feel so bad T-T Mianhae~

At Least I Didn't Think For A While - SamxReader

Summary: You had a really, really bad day. Sam takes care of you the way nobody else will when you can’t stop thinking and everything’s a little too much. (basically a bucket-ton of fluff and niceness)

Words: 3,248

Notes: i wrote this the other day when i felt super duper shitty and welp i accidentally wrote 3k words of sam taking care of reader. i didnt know if i was gonna post it but the wonderful @rayesgamingtrash needed some entertainment so here ya go. hope it isn’t suuuper bad! this is my first ever reader fic, so feel free to give feed-back and whatnot! also its midnight and i only edited it now so brace yourself for mistakes galore. okie, hope you enjoy! (also im on mobile so no fancy italics and bolds and read mores)


It was so obvious that you’d been crying. It was impossibly obvious that you’d been bawling your eyes out in a bathroom stall. You’d tried to convince yourself that Sam was oblivious to tear-stained cheeks and sniffles, but he was better at reading you than you gave him credit for. It wasn’t like this was the first time you’d come home crying, and it was usually because of the same people.
Today had been hard, and you knew it would’ve gone 50 times smoother if you’d refused to go to dinner with your family. You would’ve been able to stay in bed late with Sam and then go on a walk, as planned. However, the guilt and anxiety had gotten to you and before you knew it you were asking them what time they planned to pick you up at. It had been fine for the first half an hour or so. Sure, you were feeling extremely anxious about the pale blue dress and heels you had been told to wear, but that happens all the time, so you’d gotten used to it. What sent you into a downward spiral was when your mother spoke about how she was tired no matter how many hours of sleep she got, and your Dad said “that’s called laziness”, and you almost broke right then and there. You could practically feel him staring at you. It only got worse from that moment. Everybody was giving you these strange looks as you ate in the restaurant, as you hadn’t been to a family meal in months and you’d flipped out in front of quite a few people when it was brought up in conversation. Your father got angry every time you didn’t participate in conversation and then got angry when you did, which was something you’d never understand. He treated you like a child, telling you to eat, to not make a mess, to stop being so moody, to “act happy for once”. Then, your mother brought up relationships, and made some rude side-comment about Sam and you dropped your fork in shock and anger. You retreated to your 13 and 14 year old cousins at the other side of the table from that point, who were able to cheer you up slightly. They were playing on their Nintendo DS’s and found joy in watching you play.
Once dinner was over you made sure to state loud and clear that Sam was picking you up, just loud enough for your mother to hear, but just quiet enough to keep your voice from cracking in slight fear. Your family drove off - not until after your cousins tackled you with hugs, which almost turned the day around - and you hurried into the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall, only realizing then that you didn’t plan to have Sam pick you up and didn’t want him to, either. You couldn’t stop thinking about how pathetic you were. You didn’t even have the guts to admit that you felt especially shitty today to Sam, one of the only people you trust with your life. The thoughts showed their ugly faces, and even though these thoughts were a common occurrence, they never hurt less.
After half an hour, you emerged from the bathroom and started the 25-minute walk from the restaurant to your apartment, holding your heels in your hand.
The clock in the lobby read 9:03pm and you cursed to yourself, wishing that it was later so that Sam might be asleep and you wouldn’t have to face him. You trudged up the stairs, constantly rubbing at your eyes and scratching at your wrists and the backs of your hands. You shakily grabbed your keys from a pocket on your dress and opened the door as quietly as you could. You only opened it slightly, just enough for you to slip through. You carefully placed your heels next to the door, next to Sam’s worn-out boots, and looked around. The TV was off and thankfully Sam wasn’t waiting for you. You were about to fall onto the couch when your phone buzzed in your pocket.
’(Y/N), I plan on getting to meet this “Sam” figure soon in the future. I feel like I need to, based on what your mother has been telling me. Your mother and I also plan on talking to you about your behavior today. You were in such an awful mood and you ruined the entire day for all of us. You need to tell us what’s wrong with you, because from I can see you just refuse to co-operate with anything and love ruining happy occasions. Will talk to you again soon. Dad.’
At this point, all you could hear was static. Your phone slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor, probably smashing or cracking in the process. You felt a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes, and you just couldn’t do it anymore. The thoughts came back again. Worthless. Stupid. Unneeded. Weak. Useless. You could die and nobody would care. You’d be doing everyone a favour if you just dropped dead. You wouldn’t ruin your parents lives, Sam would have somebody better, who treats him like he deserves to be treated. You’re a fucking waste of space. They all wanted to know what was wrong, but didn’t they think you’d try and tell somebody if you knew?
You were subconsciously running to the bathroom. A door somewhere else in the apartment opened.
Your hand covered your mouth and tears ran down your cheeks as you coughed out sobs. You slammed the bathroom door shut but didn’t dare lock it in case you lacked the energy to unlock it again. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and pulled at your hair, ruining the curls you’d spent an hour getting right. You heard Sam, calling out, calling your name, but you didn’t have the energy to tell him to leave you alone.
You leaned against the wall across from the sink, collapsing down against it, trying to stop yourself from coughing and crying. Sam doesn’t deserve this burden. Sam could be off in a fancy city in a fancy apartment, snuggled up on the couch with a girl with a small waist and big boobs and a thigh gap and a nice ass and perfect hair and beautiful eyes and straight teeth and-
All in all, he could be snuggling with anybody but you.
And so came the age-old question: why the fuck did Samuel Drake chose you?
You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there when the bathroom door clicked open. It was probably mere seconds, maybe a few minutes if Sam had looked for and checked your phone. All you knew was that your dress was drenched with water and your throat and eyes hurt. You didn’t dare look up. You didn’t want to see the disappointment covering Sam’s face. You simply rubbed your eyes again and again, as if you wanted to disguise how you felt.
You felt hands cup your cheeks and taking one look at Sam made you start crying all over again. He didn’t look disappointed, he just looked sad. You couldn’t keep eye contact and as soon as tears left your eyes, Sam brought you toward him and you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He ran his hand gently through your hair. It was so quiet, but you didn’t mind, because Sam’s steady breathing cancelled out your crying. Sam slipped his hands under your thighs and you felt him pick you up, carrying you out of the bathroom.
‘Couch or bed?’ Sam said gently.
'Couch,’ you mumbled against the fabric of his t-shirt, your voice just a whisper, cracking and wavering. He moved over to the couch and laid you down onto it, placing a pillow under your head. Sam sat on his knees in front of you,  gently pushing your hair out of your eyes, studying your face.
'Do you want to talk about it?’ Sam whispered, running one hand through your hair and cupping your cheek with the other.
You really wanted to tell Sam what happened, but you wouldn’t be able to do it without tearing up all over again. You saw your phone on the coffee table, screen cracked, and you assumed Sam has read the texts. You wished the phone would’ve just snapped in half so the message would be lost forever.
So, unable to tell Sam that you didn’t want to talk about anything for a while, you just shook your head, and Sam just smiled. God, you were so lucky to have him.
'I’ll go order some takeout, okay? I’ll be back before you know it,’ Sam assured you, leaning down and kissing you on the forehead, brushing your hair out of the way. You didn’t take your eyes off Sam as he hurried into the bedroom, snatching his phone from the bedside table.
'Hi, uh, one box of salt and pepper chicken, one box of egg-fried rice, a lemonade and a strawberry milkshake, please.’ Sam peeked out from the bedroom and looked straight at you, giving you a smile that said “everything’s going to be okay”. He must’ve only noticed your tear-stained dress then, because he spun around and rooted in your dresser, taking out the fluffiest and comfiest pyjamas you owned. He grabbed a pair of clean socks and a hair brush for good measure.
'Yup, Sam Drake. You guys have my address, I think. That’s awesome, thank you. Okay, bye.’
You tossed his phone onto the bed and immediately returned to your side.
'Do you want to change?’ Sam asked. You nodded and pushed yourself up into sitting position. You fumbled and fidgeted with the zip on your dress, feeling too weak to actually pull it down.
'Want me to do it?’ Sam said,  placing your change of clothes onto the floor beside him. It astounded you sometimes how the simplest of actions made you feel so much better. You nodded meekly and Sam scooted closer to you. You held your arms up to let Sam unzip the dress at the sides. He handed you the pyjama bottoms and you placed them gently beside you.
Standing up, Sam grabbed the bottom of your dress and lifted it up over your head, wrapping it up in a bundle. He took the pyjama top in his hands and pulled it down over you, dropping back to his knees as you managed to put on the pyjama pants, which was a miracle in itself.  
You scooted along the couch a bit and patted the space behind you, looking down at Sam. He pushed himself up and onto the couch, stretching out his legs on either side of you, allowing you to lie back against his chest. He handed you the socks and you pulled them on as he took the hairbrush in his hand. He pulled the brush through your hair as gently as he could, as if you were a fragile artifact.
Once you were fully dressed, you simply laid against his chest as he brushed your hair. After twenty minutes of you two simply sitting there, the doorbell rang. Sam took your hand and brought it up to his mouth, planting a gentle kiss against your skin before slowly rising from the couch.
You turned slightly to watch Sam grab money from his wallet and open the front door. He handed the woman the money due and took the food in his arms, closing the door with his foot before making his way back over to you. He laid the boxes and bags out across the coffee table.
'Which do you want first?’ You had gotten used to being silent, so when Sam asked what you wanted, you simply pointed to the labels.
Sam grabbed the egg-fried rice for you and he grabbed salt and pepper chicken for himself. He fell down onto the couch and wrapped his legs around you again, handing you your box.
'If you want me to help- No, not help, just if you can’t manage-’ Sam spluttered, and you felt your heart swell. You knew Sam was being picky with his wording because he didn’t want to make you feel weak or incapable.
To let him know you understood, you settled in his lap and tilted your head back toward him, giving the biggest attempt you could at a smile. You opened your rice with shaky hands, grabbing the fork that came with it. You would’ve liked nothing more than for Sam to help you again, but knowing him, this was probably his first proper meal since breakfast. You both tucked into your food. Sam finished his in about 10 minutes while you were pushing yours around with your fork. Sam noticed this, of course, and rested his chin on your shoulder. 'Not hungry?’
You just shrugged. In all honesty, you hadn’t really touched your food at the restaurant, and you weren’t exactly hungry now.
'I dunno,’ you mumbled. It hurt to talk.
'When was the last time you actually ate?’ Sam said, planting a kiss on your shoulder.
You put down your rice box and fiddled with your hands. 'Breakfast, I think.’
'I’ll just put your food in the fridge, and I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow morning. How does that sound, sweetheart?’
You nodded as Sam rubbed your arms gently, warming you up. You could barely speak at normal volume and you weren’t that bothered to try. 'Sounds good.’
It was silent for a little while. Sam was rubbing your arms and then reaching down and holding your hands. With nothing to do, the thoughts came back, and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the day’s events, and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer.
'Sam?’ you mumbled, breaking the silence. 'Why did you choose me?’
Sam was silent for a second. He’d stopped rubbing your hands with his thumbs and you felt anxiety creeping up on you again. 'Choose you for what, (Y/N)?’
You sighed and pulled your hands away from his, subconsciously scratching them again. Sam was looking straight at you but you didn’t dare look at him. 'You…You could be anywhere else, with a beautiful, smart, funny and confident girl, who is equal to you, who treats you like you deserve to be treated. I-I just don’t get what you saw in me, I don’t know why you stick around. All I see is that I’m…stupid and worthless and I could…I could just drop off the face of the earth and nobody would care at all-’
Shit. Shit, you said it. You should’ve just stopped talking, now Sam’s going to get freaked out and he’s going to up and leave you like everyone else did-
'Hey, hey, (Y/N), look at me, okay?’
Sam’s voice was soothing and you turned around to face him properly for the first time that evening. He was wearing a dark red button-up and pyjama pants. His hair was a little all over the place, and he looked calm. He was calmer now than you’d been in a long time, and you envied him for it. You tried to keep eye contact but you kept looking down into your lap.
Sam slowly tilted your chin up with his index finger, and you tried your hardest to look him in the eyes.
’(Y/N), I know that none of this will be easy, and that it isn’t something that can just go away, but I’ll be here for you and I’m not going anywhere. You’re perfect for me. You’re way more than I deserve and I love you so, so much, okay?’
You could feel your heart breaking, because as much as you wanted to believe what Sam was saying, you just couldn’t stop yourself from thinking he was lying. From early on in life you’d convinced yourself that compliments are lies, and that people don’t mean what they say. You didn’t know why. It just happened.
But then you thought about all the wonderful memories you had of you and Sam, and the amount of times he’d told you he’d never leave your side, and how he took such good care of you when you couldn’t have felt worse, and how almost every morning he calls you beautiful, and you just completely broke.
You fell against his chest with a thud and wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could, your ear over his heart as you shut your eyes and felt tears stain your cheeks again. Sam reacted almost immediately, pulling you against his chest, smoothing your hair with one hand while rubbing your back with the other.
'It’s okay, I’m here,’ Sam assured you, not letting go until you did. He twirled your hair in his fingers, wiped away your tears, caressed your face, and ran his hands down your arms while whispering what he loved about you, until you looked up at him and gave him an oh-so-weak smile that assured him that he had done something right that night.
You leaned against his chest but didn’t cry anymore; you didn’t need to, because Sam’s gentle touches and loving words outweighed any negative thought you had previously tried to burn to the ground. You wondered for a bit how different your life would’ve been if Sam had appeared when you were younger and had been able to outweigh the bad thoughts then, but when Sam spoke you forgot what you were thinking about and focused entirely on him.
'Hey, did I ever tell you about the time me and Nathan almost got arrested for sneaking onto a boat?’
You surprised yourself by chuckling. It was weak and shaky, but it was there. The sound seemed so foreign, even though you remembered falling against the kitchen counter laughing yesterday morning with Sam, after he spent 30 minutes making pancakes only to drop them on the floor. 'Uh…No? How exactly-’
'Okay, okay, so - We were both kinda drunk, and we were walking along the dock of this gorgeous town in…doesn’t matter where it was, I forget. Anyway, we’re walking along and apparently there’s some history festival going on in town and what do I see in the dock? A pirate ship! A frickin pirate- and yeah, it was obviously made for the event, and it’s ten times smaller than any of the real ones, but it was still there! And of course I go cuckoo for a bit until Nathan starts to climb on board - and this thing didn’t look that sturdy! But I said, y'know what, screw it, and I followed him on board. We both lost our minds for a while and Nathan had to stop me from singing some sea shanties, but here we were, and Nathan was threatening to pull out of the dock…’
Soon after, Sam paused, hearing your steady breathing against his chest, arms still wrapped around him. He chuckled, brushing your hair back from your face, planning to ask you in the morning if his stories were that boring. He spread out on the couch and held you against his chest, as the couch was just big enough for you both. Soon after that he closed his eyes and slept, your smile and his love for you filling his mind, and his caring nature, gentle touches and loving words filling yours.

This is the letter I wrote to my friends and colleagues regarding my resignation


As some of you have heard, I recently resigned from surgical residency, and am leaving clinical medicine.

Ten years ago, I decided to be a doctor. It was a decision that made perfect sense at the time: I wanted to help people who were suffering, and I was fortunate to have the ability and resources to gain entry into medical school. I wasn’t sure which specialty would be my calling, but shortly after starting my clinical rotations I fell in love with surgery. I loved seeing and evaluating patients who had a very clear and usually dramatic surgical problem that I knew could be solved by an operation, by putting hands on the patient and potentially curing them of whatever it was that was ailing them. 

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