stop please i beg of you

I’m not going in there - Imagine

So this is actually the second request that I got, but don’t worry anon who sent me the first, I figured that one would fit in well with the aftermath of this one so it will be coming soon!

But to the anon who requested this imagine I hope you enjoy!

***

“I really think this is the one for you Fionn” I laugh, holding up a luminous orange t-shirt for him to see as he stuck his head above the opposite railing.

“Ok I’m sorry, who thought that colour was a good idea?!” he exclaimed, shuffling between two racks of shirts to stand beside me. I shrugged and looked up to place the shirt back where I’d found it, only to spot a man across the store wearing the exact shirt I was holding. I snorted and pointed at him.

“Him apparently” I giggled and Fionn spluttered beside me, ducking away again to look at some shirts hanging on the wall. I sighed and placed the shirt back before moving to stand beside him.

“I hate this, I hate shopping, I hate crowds,” he groaned as two young girls pushed between us, giggling and gossiping with armfuls of bags, “I just hate people” he huffed. I smiled and shot him a quick sideways glance.

“Isn’t that the truth” I teased, earning a quick elbow in my side.

“Shut up Y/N, can we just find something for Harry’s birthday so we can leave? I’m hungry and I know there is a place in here that does amazing chicken wraps” he rambled, sifting through the shirts on the rack before huffing and moving on to the next one.

“Come on, I don’t think we are going to find anything in here, let’s look somewhere else” I sighed, grabbing his arm and weaving out of the shop, muttering a quick ‘sorry’ to everyone we bumped in to in our haste.

“Y/N, let’s be honest, we aren’t going to find anything at all for Harry. Nothing we can afford anyway” he said as we emerged from the crowd and back on to the top floor of the shopping centre. So far Fionn and I had been here for 3 hours, rummaged around at least 7 shops and leaving each one empty handed. After all, what do you buy someone who has everything? I sighed and steered myself towards a vacant bench, letting my body fall on to the unforgiving wood and placing my head in my hands. Fionn took a seat beside me and huffed.

“This is impossible” I groaned. “We’ve been here for hours and found nothing. What are we going to do? This is the first time I’ll be spending his birthday with him since we became official and I can’t even find him a present! What kind of shitty girlfriend am I?!” I cried. Running my fingers through my hair, tugging firmly at the roots.  

“We suck at this” he said. I couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“What shops haven’t we tried yet?” I asked, glancing at the rows of store in front of us, most of which I knew would have things in them that Harry would love, but I was also well aware that I wouldn’t be able to afford any of it.

“I mean there’s The Perfume Shop, maybe I could buy him some cologne or something?” Fionn suggested. I nodded with a small shrug. Fionn took that as approval and hauled me to my feet before leading me across the floor. For the next 20 minutes I hovered by the door, watching with a small smile as Fionn grew more and more flustered, sniffing several samples before huffing and asking for my help, stating that they all smelled the same. I laughed and joined him at the counter, plucking a box off the shelf and handing it to him.

“This is the one he always wears” I said. He took the box and glared at me.

“So you knew which one he would like and you still let me spend half an hour sniffing these damn things?” he snapped. I laughed and shrugged.

“It’s funny when you get all flustered” I chuckled with a small smile. He huffed and handed the box to the cashier before paying.

“Hate you” he mumbled as he took back the bag and thanked the woman.

“No you don’t” I sing-songed as we left, turning right and wandering further into the maze of stores, Fionn mumbled beneath his breath each time someone bumped into him. With each passing moment I was becoming more and more frustrated. Store after store ran beside us both, but still I saw nothing that was suitable. Fionn sensed my agitation and wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“Y/N, calm down, we’ll find something” he said softly, squeezing my shoulder lightly as we walked, turning yet another corner. Ahead loomed perhaps the most promising store yet, and as we approached, I knew it was my best shot.

“I’ve got an idea!” I squealed, slipping from beneath Fionn’s arm and dashing towards the store. Fionn took one glance at the sign and shook his head firmly.

“No. No way. I’m not going in there” he said firmly, stopping dead in his tracks and folding his arms across his chest. I stopped and whirled to face him.

“Come on Fionn please, this will work! And it’s the only place I’ve seen” I whined, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet as he remained firmly planted to the stop.

“No, Y/N, I’m not going in there with you” he said. I stepped towards him and grabbed his upper arms.

“Fionn please! You can help, you’re a boy, you know what boy’s like. We won’t be long I promise” I begged.

“Y/N, I’m not going in to Ann Summers with you while you look for lingerie to wear for one of my best friends. It’s weird and I’m not doing it” he said and I groaned.

“Please please please! For me?” I asked, fluttering my eye lashes in a hope to win him over. He maintained his resolve for a few more minutes, watching my face carefully while I bounced up and down in front of him, squeezing his upper arms and biting my lip as we partook in what turned out to be a battle of wills. Eventually he caved, his shoulders sagged and his arms fell limp at his side.

“Fine” he sighed and I squealed with joy, “15 minutes, and no more. Otherwise I’ll walk out” he said firmly and I agreed, dragging his reluctant body into the store. He looked like a fish out of water, his eyes were wide and his face was pale.

“How can there be so many?” he asked as we shuffled along the wall of bras and underwear. He furrowed his brows and looked at several sets.

“‘Plunging’, ‘push-up’, no, this is too much” he stuttered and turned to head for the door.

“No!” I cried, grasping his arm once more and pulling him back towards me. “No wait, I’ve found two I like, just help me pick and then you can leave” I begged as he stumbled beside me.

“Y/N, I can’t do this, I’m way out of my depth here” he rushed, his cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment.

“Just look, please Fionn” I pleaded. He sighed but mumbled a quiet ‘fine’ as I help up the two I had chosen. One was a matching pair of lace panties and bra, the thin, light blue fabric decorated with delicate roses across the cup of the bra and on the hip of the panties. The second set was also lace but was a bright, seductive red. It was simple and relatively plain, but I knew it would look wonderful.

Fionn’s face flushed a bright scarlet as he glanced between the two, making an effort not to let his gaze linger too long.

“That one” he said, pointing quickly to the blue set before turning and practically running from the shop. I beamed at his back as it disappeared. Setting the red pair back on the rack I hurried to the counter and paid for the set before dashing after Fionn, only to find him flushed and jittery outside the store.

“Can we go now” he begged, his eyes looking everywhere but my face. I laughed at him and linked my arm with his own.

“Sure” I giggled. He huffed as we made our way to the exit.

“I’m never going shopping with you again” he mumbled.                

************************************************

In other news I am going to start posting my fic on Tumblr as well as Wattpad. I am going to try and post twice a week so keep and eye out for the first update coming soon!

- Steph

*Takes deep breath*

Hades is not Hell

Hades is just where people go after they die there’s no suffering no fire it’s just where you go unless you’re really fuckin bad then they chuck you into Tartarus

Stop applying Western Christianity symbolism to a mutitheistic religion that isn’t even remotely similar I’m begging you please

I am fucking begging y'all to not call the dozens of LGBT Latinxs that died one year ago, or any deceased victims of homophobia and transphobia, “q*eer”. It’s so damn disrespectful, and so heartbreaking that y'all have no regard for this word and its violent history. We have no idea who among those people had reclaimed the slur, you have no idea who had vehemently rejected it. Don’t use this slur on people without their consent, especially when they’re not fucking alive to give it. Please. Stop.

Guys My Age (2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 4K

Warnings: SMUT. NSFW gifs. 

Summary: You’re playing truth or dare with the Avengers when Nat asks you when the last time you got laid was  and Sam dares you to pick a song that perfectly grasps why you haven’t had sex in so long.

A/N: Enjoy the smot. And please use protection people. Better safe than surprised. I think this is dirtiest fic I’ve written so far.

Permanent tag list: @meganlane84

Part 1

Keep reading

Boxing Lessons
Tom is giving you boxing lessons for the first time and ends up being more into your physique than your techniques.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Includes: Smut, DaddyKink!Tom, Rough!Tom


I stood behind Tom with my arms crossed over my chest as I watched him swiftly punch at the speed bag. Well, I had my eyes more on his bare back, watching his muscles tensing and relaxing over and over again, something to bite my lip over. He dropped his arms to his sides as he threw his head back, catching his breath.

He turned to me once he did. “Your turn.”

“You don’t expect me to be that fast the first time, now do you?” I asked with a single raised brow.

He chuckled, taking his water from my hands, “no, but I want you to try.” I fixed the wrap on my hands as I walked over to it. “Can you reach it, Y/N?” He teased.

I looked back, shooting him a nasty look as his eyes scanned up and down my body. “Yes.” I turned back and quickly began imitating his movement, just not punching it as fast.

“There you go. You’re doing great, darling!” He encouraged me as my arms quickly grew tired.

“Can I stop? My arms aren’t gonna hold up much longer.”

He laughed, stepping close behind me. “Keep going.” His hands hovered under my arms, making sure they wouldn’t fall.

“Please.”

“Thirty more seconds, I know you can.”

“Honestly, you suck. You really, really, really suck.”

“You wanted to learn how to box.” I rolled my eyes knowing he’s right and pushed myself to get through the last of it. “Alright, that’s it.” I dropped my arms by my sides and leaned into him. He draped his arm around my neck, “you’re great. A few more times on that and you’ll begin to get used to it.”

“What’s next?”

“The punching bag. I can show you some techniques.”

“Mmm… okay.” I nod my head as got off of him. We walked over to the punching bag he managed to install when he first moved in. I stood in front of it, “show me the technique.” I told him as he put water bottle down on to the nearby bench press.

He walked back to me, standing behind me with a hand on my waist. “So, you’re gonna want to put this foot forward.” He grabbed my bare thigh, pushing it outward, “and your legs gotta be spread apart a bit past shoulder width.” He muttered, pressing himself a bit into my backside.

I moved my leg out, “like this?”

“Good. Now, bring your hands up just above your shoulders.” I did as he told me. “Now, stand as straight as you can.” He pressed his hand against my stomach.

“I’m not standing straight already?”

“Almost.” I straightened out, ‘accidentally’ pressing myself into him. “Perfect,” he muttered to me before sighing. He cleared his throat, “this is a, uh… basic stance.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the best stance for punching. Give it a try.” I jabbed a few times at the punching bag. He grinned, “you’re a natural.”

“So, what’s next?”

“If you put your hands up by your temples with enough room to see your opponent past your hands,” I followed along, moving in to the position he said, “this is a high stance, so that once you’ve closed the space between the two of you, you can use this to block their hits that’ll be coming towards your face. You want them to hit the lower parts of your arms. But you’ve gotta be careful now because all of this,” he ran his hand over my torso, “is exposed to be hit.”

I looked back at him, “so, what’s the stance called where you’re up against me and copping a feel?”

He laughed, “the you-look-great-in-this-sports-bra-and-shorts-and-I-can’t-help-myself stance.”

I turned around around to him leaving little space between us as I unraveled the wrap from my hand. “Maybe I could show you some of my techniques since you can’t help yourself so much.”

I let the wraps fall to the floor as he smirked at me. “Yeah, I wanna see what you’ve got, baby girl.”

I fold my arm around his neck, my hand snaking it’s way to the back of his hair. I pulled him down into a deep kiss. He held onto either of my hips, pulling me into his hardening member. My free hand untied the string on his gym short and looped my fingers into the band making his kisses a bit more aggressive. I took my hand from the band, slowly wandering over his lower stomach.

He bit down on my lip and tugged on it gently, turning me on. He brought his lips back to mine, bringing his hand over my ass to squeeze it. In one swift movement, his big hand smacked my ass causing me to moan against his lips. I could feel a slight smile on his as we kissed. His hand moved from my butt to between my legs, rubbing me over the thin cloth of my shorts.

I brought my lips to his neck, kissing his most sensitive spots and swiping my tongue over the skin, listening to the soft groans escape his lips as his fingers worked a little faster.

I kissed down his toned chest and torso, slowly bringing myself down to my knees. His hand moving up my body as I moved before resting on the side of my neck. I kissed his hip bones as I slipped off his shorts, agonizingly slow and let them fall to the floor. I dragged my hands against his hard length being held down by the band of his boxers. I plant gentle kisses to his cock over the cloth, keeping my eyes up on him.

Tom bit down on his bottom lip, watching me tease him. I hooked my hands in to the band on his boxers, allowing his long cock to spring free. I bit my lip, attempting to hold back the grin, but failing miserably.

“You like what you see, baby?” He questioned a bit of laughter in his voice.

“Absolutely, daddy.” He grinned, hearing that name.

I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. I placed my tongue on the base, licking my way to the tip before slowly taking him in my mouth as much as I could and pumping the rest in my hand. He wrapped my ponytail around his hand, pushing farther down onto his cock. His control turning me on immensely.

“That’s it, baby.”

I placed my hands on his hips as he pushed down nearly his entire length. I moaned over him and brought one of my hand to his balls, cupping and gently squeezing them. He threw his head back, his breathing heavier as he still held me down on him, quickly thrusting into my mouth making my eyes water. I pushed myself off of him, catching my breath.

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned, “you always do that so well, darling.” He pushed the free strands of hair off my face with his free hand and wiped away the tears down my cheeks.

I wrapped my hand around his length, pumping him up and down quickly. I slid my other hand down into my own pants, gently rubbing my clit. He watched me touch myself and him as he muttered, “fuck.”

I licked the precum from his tip and lips fell apart as he ran his fingers through his lose curls. I bit down on my bottom lips, innocently looking up at him. He cupped his hand beneath my chin and I stood. He pulled my hand from my shorts and yanked them down to my thighs, his fingers sliding over my slit before pushing past my lips and thrusting his middle finger into my core as his thumb rubbed over my clit. His lips kissed my neck as he pushed me back, stepping out the shorts pooled at his feet until my back hit the cold mirror wall.

Tom pushed the shorts all the way off my legs and kicked them aside. He slipped in a second finger, thrusting his fingers quicker.

“Like that, baby.” I moaned out, throwing my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

He smirked, pulling his fingers out from my core, bringing them to my lip, “taste yourself for me.” Without hesitating, I took his long fingers into my mouth and slowly gliding my tongue along them. “You are so sexy, Y/N.” He muttered, pulling out of my mouth and replacing it with his lips.

Tom grabbed at my thighs, lifting me off my feet and wrapping my legs around his waist. His grabbed his cock, placing self at the entrance of my core.

“How badly do you want me, darling?” He questioned against my lips.

“So bad.”

“Beg for it.”

“I want you to fuck me so badly, daddy, please…” I kissed him, “please.” With that, he thrust into me with all the force he could. I let out a loud moan.

“Like that?” He pressed his forehead to mine.

“Yes, daddy.”

He continued thrusting into me with all the power, his hand snaked to pussy and he began quickly rubbing my clit. I could tell he already wanted to cum the way he touched me, leaving me a moaning mess as he groaned.

“Tom, baby-”

He stopped thrusting and looked at me with raised brows. “Who?” He teased, pulling himself out of my pussy.

“Daddy, I’m sorry.” I moaned as he rubbed his cock between my lips and against my nub.

“That’s what I thought.” He muttered, taking my hand off the back of his head and holding it over my head.

He slipped inside of me with ease, thrusting a bit slower than before. His hand held my arm tightly above head as my walls clenched around him, he growled a deep, “fuck.”

I could feel the heat, building up inside of me as my breathing turned into panting as he brought me closer to the edge. He brought his thumb back to my clit, noticing how needy I had become. My free hand grabbed at his bicep, digging my nails into it and feeling it flex repeatedly as he rubbed my sensitive nub. I began bucking my hips into his and pulling him closer to me with my legs.

“Look at me when you cum, baby girl.” He whispered to me.

Those words did it for me. I looked up at him like he wanted as my nerves unraveled and slew of curse words slipped from my lips. My toes curled and my eyes fell shut from the immense pleasure. I let go of his waist, sliding down against the mirror to my knees. Tom let go of my wrist and I wrapped my hand around his cock as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the glass as his hand rest on my cheek, rubbing the bottom of my lip of my mouth that I left open for him.

I pumped his cock as his breathing became heavier and grunts and moans left his lips. His hand moved to the back of my ponytail, tightly gripping my hair before he came. His warm cum made it’s way into and around my mouth. He caught his breath, his chest heaving up and down as he watched me swallow his cum.

“Fuck,” he chuckled, “you’re such a good girl.” I stood up on my slightly trembling legs and leaned into him. He rest his forehead on mine instead of the mirror. “We’ll have to finish sessions like this from here on out.” He suggested as he grabbed my ass.

I laughed, “we didn’t even get to finish the lesson, Tom.”

“There’s always next time to pick up where we left off. Now, how about we head upstairs for a shower?” I smirked and nod my head, knowing he’d be up for a round two.

Take It Like A Puppy (M)

Originally posted by jaayhope

Summary: You and Hoseok have been best friends since you were young. Your friendship with him, was struck as odd since you were a cat hybrid, while he was a dog hybrid. But that didn’t matter, that is until you both start attending university. What happens when one of you unexpectedly goes into heat?

Pairing: Jhope x Reader

Genre: Smut (M), hybrid!au, Cat hybrid reader, Dog hybrid Jhope

Word Count : 5.5k

A/N: This story contains graphic descriptions of sex, cum play, bondage, oral, etc. Heavy dom/sub undertones. Lmao this is just a sinful read. I’m a sucker for hybrid aus, so i had to make one ;) Anywho, this is a mature read! You have been warned!



You’ve known Hoseok since you were nine years old. At the time, you were just a quiet little kitten, who didn’t have many friends. Hoseok, was an annoying hyperactive puppy, who everybody adored in your class. He didn’t really bother you that much, until you became desk partners. That’s when he thought it was okay to pop your ‘personal space bubble’ and sniff you, every second he got.


“Why do you keep trying to smell me!” the nine-year-old you shouted. This was the third time you caught him in the act, ever since you became seat mates a week ago.

“I’m part canine! That’s what we always do!” Hoseok explained, with a smile on his face. He didn’t really know you that much, only that you were always super quiet. But he wanted to change that, he wanted a feline as a friend for once.

“Well can you stop? Its kinda weird,” you replied uncomfortably.

Including you, there were only two other cat hybrids in your class, the rest were a split between bunny, dog, and fox hybrids. Thus, you were extremely uncomfortable with this puppy trying to get up all in your space. Besides, you were quite afraid of dog hybrids since they could become aggressive easily.

“No, you’re weird,” the puppy joked.

You finally turn to glare at him, then let a hiss seethe through your teeth.

Keep reading

they call her maid maleen

for the first few trembling years of her life, she is a princess. she is the daughter to the king, born of his beloved wife and of her visage. her dark eyes have the appearance of a smoky quarts and her mother carefully twists her mass of black hair into a hundred small braids down her back. she is a beautiful, quiet child, and for a while all is well. they call her princess maleen.

then her mother dies. it seems as if the king is determined to bury his love for his daughter along with his queen. he moves her to a different wing of the castle, and refuses to see her. her tutors are let go, and the nobles’ children are no longer allowed to play with her. only the maids look after her now.

the king remarries. the new queen gives birth to a son, and maleen is forgotten completely, banished from a home she still resides in and a life she can now only watch unfold.

the maids take care of her, braid her hair and kiss the blisters on her fingers, teach her to scrub at porcelain and polish silver, to clean a fireplace and mop polished marble floors.

they call her maid maleen.

~

the king has a son by his new wife, and then a daughter. they are pale and fair-haired like their mother, with only their dark eyes to show they are the king’s children. but they inherit none of their parents’ beauty, have faces that don’t look quite right and bodies that get stuck between gangly and chubby and never settle into one or the other. princess gisella and prince jan are privately regarded as unfortunate products of a lovely union.

maid maleen spends long hours working, and has neither the time nor funds for creams to soften her skin or oils to care for her hair, has never used face powder or lip color.

maid maleen is twenty three years old, and the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

her braids are wrapped carefully atop her head, but when she lets them loose they hang past her hips. her dark skin is made even darker thanks to long hours working in the palace garden, and her eyes have never lost that same curious light. she walks straight and strong, years of hard labor giving her muscles and definition to her body that she never would have had as a princess. boys and girls give her long, considering looks and flirtatious smiles, and nobles have to double-take when she passes them by.

no one speaks of it anymore. but maid maleen looks ever more like her beautiful late mother, has the same eyes as her father, and dressing in ill-fitting cast offs and running her ragged can’t hide the truth.

maid maleen is the king’s daughter.

she has accepted her life as a maid in the palace she was one day set to inherit, and tries to see it as a gift. she sleeps with who she likes, may marry whichever of the charming boys from the city who’s smile she likes best. in the maids who raised her she has more mothers than she has fingers, and perhaps she longs for the days when she was a small princess, when she was the apple of her parents’ eye, when the whole of their nation was to be hers to inherit.

but then the blacksmith’s daughter lets her hands linger a little too long on her wrists, and maleen knows that she won’t be sleeping alone tonight. there are some things that worth more to her than a throne she was born to. she doesn’t miss the little girl she used to be.

until.

tensions have always run high between their kingdom and the neighboring one – too many squabbles over borders, over trade agreements, over patrols, over anything and everything the kings can find a reason to be upset about, it seems like. so when prince wolfgang is sent over, the whole palace is abuzz. the prince seems determined to inherit a peaceful land, and is coming over to talk with the king to do it.

maleen does not care for princes. nor for nobles of any rank, in fact. she remembers how they turned on her, she sees the small acts of pettiness and cruelty they thoughtlessly inflict on their servants, and she wants nothing to do with it. commoners may not be as educated as nobles, may not have as many objects to call their own, but maleen finds she prefers their company to that of lords. she’s uninterested in this prince, which is perhaps why she’s the one that gets sent to his rooms. her moms can trust that she at least won’t fawn over him.

“sir wolfgang,” she murmurs, pushing open his door and giving a low curtsy, keeping her eyes trained on his mud covered boots. “is there anything you require?”

silence. she can only stay bent in a curtsey so long before she loses patience. she’s almost given up on him, is about to cut her losses and call it a night when he says, hesitant, “queen sabine?”

her mother’s name is punch to her gut, and her head snaps up at the sound of it, the rolling fire of her temper bubbling just below her skin. “i am maid maleen,” she snaps, then tacks on “your highness,” after a moment’s consideration.

his cloak is half unbuttoned as he stares at her with a slack mouth. she supposes he would not look unhandsome if he were not currently doing his best to imitate a frog. he appears to be only a handful of years older than she is, and if she were not furious she would be impressed that he remembers her mother well enough to see sabine in her.

“maleen,” he repeats, and for a moment she wonders if he will recognize her as well, but he only says, “my apologies. if you would help me with my cloak, i would be much obliged.”

she’s instantly suspicious. she’s met nice nobles before, ones that were considerate and remembered her name and thanked her when she brought them wine. but she’s never met a nice prince before – they’re always of the worst sort. “yes, your highness,” she says, and the cloak is soaked through and clinging, it’s no wonder he’s struggling with it. once she’s gotten it off she hangs it to dry, then goes back to him. she slaps away his numb, struggling fingers and undoes the rest of the buckles and loops of his overly complicated clothing. she’s gotten down him down to an undershirt and pants when his hands grab hers. she blinks and looks up. he has freckles dusting across his nose.

“this is inappropriate,” he says, but honestly she’s stripped a lot of nobles, it wasn’t weird until he took her hands and looked at her like no one’s ever looked at her before.

“yes, your highness,” she agrees, and takes a step back. she places his clothes in front of a fire, curtsies, and leaves. she can feel the weight of his gaze on her all the way back to her room.

wolfgang continues his diplomatic agenda, having long meetings with the royal family. after, maleen goes and tends to him, setting out his food and taking care of his clothes, straightening up any mess that he’s made. at first he’s quiet, and he just watches her, but he quickly discovers that maleen has opinions and thoughts and isn’t afraid to share them. soon they’re debating the finer points of trade routes and arguing the effectiveness of a sliding tax scale, and maleen comes to cherish the evenings she spends with the prince, likes the way he speaks to her and looks at her, likes the shape of his smile.

weeks in she enters his room, dinner steaming in her hands and eager to continue their conversation about state funded orphanages versus a state funded foster system. he’s pacing and tense, shoulder stiff. “wolfgang,” she sets down the food and wipes her hands on her apron, “is something wrong?”

“is it true?” he asks, and he’s not looking at her. he’s always looked at her before.

“is what true?” she flinches away from his coldness, is already preparing to retreat and hide and beg someone else to watch over him.

he turns to her, and she’s baffled by the mixture of hope and anger on his face. “are you the king’s daughter? are you princess maleen?”

she takes a step back, “i am maid maleen.”

“please,” he follows her as she steps away from him, and her back hits the wall. he stops when he’s almost close enough to touch. “my father sent me here with the goal to seal our new treaty with a marriage. he expects me to marry princess gisella. but if you are the daughter of the king – then he will allow me to marry you instead!”

“who says i want to marry you?” she retorts, but he gets on bended knee and she freezes.

he holds a hand for her own, and against every bit of logic, she gives it to him. “maleen, i’ve never felt this way about anyone. i was willing enough to enter a loveless marriage before i knew what true love is, but now i do, and i can’t go back. marry me.”

she wants to. she thinks she loves him. she hadn’t been planning to fall in love with anyone. “i am the king’s daughter,” she tells him, “but i am no princess. i haven’t been a princess in a long time.”

he brings her hand to his mouth so he can kiss each one of her knuckles, “then we’ll have to change that.”

~

wolfgang goes to the king to make his case, to return maleen to her birthright and allow her to marry him.

it goes even worse than maleen had feared.

her father is furious. he’s so angry at the audacity of this request that prince wolfgang is thrown from the kingdom. so incensed is he, that guards drag maleen from her bed in the middle of the night and throw her into a tower. the door closes shut behind them, and she bangs on it and screams but no one comes for her.

there are no windows, and only one door with a sliding metal grate in the bottom. she’s high in the tower, she thinks, from the number of steps she’d been forced to climb, but she stands on a dirt floor. the room contains only the bare minimum needed for survival, and nothing more.

once a week food is slid through the slot in the door. she has to be careful, because if she eats it too fast they will not provide more, she will just starve. days turn to weeks turn to months, and she despairs of ever being let out of this tower. months turn to years, and she gives up hope entirely of leaving this tower. she considers refusing to eat, killing herself slowly through starvation, because death is preferable to life locked in this tower.

one night there’s a scuffle, and shouting, and for the first time since she was shoved inside the door opens. there’s a guard standing there, and princess gisella tentatively steps inside. “maid ma – i mean, maleen?”

maleen stares. this is the first time she’s seen another person in years, and suddenly for all the screaming she’d done she can’t find her voice. gisella takes another cautious step forward, “maleen, please – we don’t have much time.” she holds out her hand, “come with me.”

gisella is sixteen now. although she’ll never be a great beauty, she’s grown into many of the features that she was once mocked for. “where?” she asks, but takes gisella’s hand and lets her lead them down the twisting staircase. anyplace is better than the tower.

“i’m to be married in a week’s time to prince wolfgang.” maleen feels a sharp pain go through her chest. had wolfgang forgotten her? their farce of a romance was such a quick, shallow thing. she was a fool to fall for it in the first place. “i’m not going to show up. you are.”

she stares, “what?”

“wolfgang started a war over father locking you in the tower,” she explains, “but eventually it got to a point where neither could justify it, so our father and wolfgang’s decided our union would mean peace between our countries, as intended. but i don’t want to marry prince wolfgang, and he does not want to marry me.”

“i don’t understand,” she hadn’t paid much attention to the girl when they were in the palace together, and she’s regretting that now.

they finally reach the end of the tower. it’s the first time she’s breathed fresh air in years. she tries not to get distracted by it, and instead focuses on the carriage to her left, and the pure black mare laden like a pack mule on her right. “i’m leaving,” gisella says, “i don’t want to be wolfgang’s bride because i want to be klaus’s,” the guard smiles, and he must be klaus, the princess is rejecting a prince to run away with a commoner. “there’s a map and everything you need in the saddlebags. the wedding dress is waiting for you at the castle. no one will know you’re not me until wolfgang unveils you, and by then it will be too late. he will marry you, and i will be gone.”

“why are you doing this?” she asks.

gisella shrugs, “you’re my sister, and father is an idiot. i want you to be happy, and i want wolfgang to be happy, and i want to be happy too. this way we all get what we want. our brother will be waiting for you in wolfgang’s castle. he’ll help you.”

maleen is speechless. gisella grabs her in a quick hug – the only one they’ve ever shared – and then goes to the carriage with klaus trailing behind her. “i’ll see you again, princess maleen!”

she doesn’t have time for tears. she gets on the mare, and rides for the palace of the neighboring land.

~

she makes it just in time. she sneaks into the castle the night before the wedding, ducking around servants until she find her way to jan’s door. she knocks, tentative, wondering if this was a mistake and all one elaborate trap. but the door opens and his face slackens in relief, “finally!” he pulls her inside, and sits her down. there’s lukewarm water waiting for her so she can clean herself, and jan stands with his back to her the whole time, outlining the wedding and how it will go so she knows what to expect the next day. “father isn’t here,” he assures her, “he didn’t want to leave the kingdom, so i’m here in his stead.”

“won’t you miss your sister?” maleen finishes washing and wraps herself in a soft blanket.

“when i am king, gisella will return,” he says confidently, “she will come home and bring klaus, and you will rule here with wolfgang, and all will be well. our countries shall be great allies when it is me and wolfgang on the throne.”

he’s only a year older than gisella, just seventeen, and maleen feels oddly old next to them, feels old next to these children who know what they want and take it and don’t let anything stand in their way.

“we need to get your hair rebraided,” he says, “you should look perfect tomorrow. it’s your wedding day.”

she stares, aghast. “that will take all night!”

“i’ve brought help,” he says, and sends a servant down the hall. the servant returns with a half dozen of the maids who raised her, and who crowd forward and hug her and kiss her cheeks and say how much they’ve missed her. princess or not, bride or not, to them she will always be their little maid maleen.

~

it’s clear gisella picked her wedding dress with maleen in mind. it fits her for one thing, and is clinging and heavy, and it must have looked awful on gisella, but on her it’s perfect. her dress is accompanied by white silk gloves and a thick veil so that no one can see her, so that no one will know she’s not the daughter of the king they’re expecting to be there.

wolfgang is at the end of the aisle, looking like he’s going to an execution, and it takes more self control than maleen was anticipating not to go running to him. she turns to him, and he lifts her veil. he sees her and freezes, mouth sliding open. she winks at him, because they just need to keep it together until they’re married, he just has to keep his cool for a few minutes and they’ll have won it all. wolfgang closes his mouth and says nothing about how this is clearly not the bride he was supposed to marry. they turn so none of the guests can see them, and the priest gives maleen a confused look, but with a glare from wolfgang he continues on with the ceremony as if nothing is out of place.

“you may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, after what seems like an eternity.

wolfgang grabs her about the waist, dips her, and kisses her soundly on the mouth. her veil falls off and she can hear the horrified and shocked gasps of the guests, and under that jan’s laughter. when they break apart, foreheads still pressed together, she whispers, “hello, prince wolfgang.”

he kisses her again, quick and sweet, and does nothing at all to disguise the joy in his face. “hello, princess maleen.”

and they all lived happily ever after.


read more retold fairytales here

Queen in the North (Jon Snow)

word count: 8, 708 

request: Hi, I love your imagines! I was wondering if you could write a jon snow imagine where he and the reader have sex before he goes to the wall and she falls pregnant and never tells him until after the battle of the bastards when they reunite :) xxx

requested by: anon

warnings: smut (omg it’s the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written), ramsay, abuse towards women

a/n: okay so the reader is a Lannister, which means reader’s got the infamous Lannister golden locks. lots of medieval family drama. got some robb stark x reader, but at its core, the fic is jon snow x reader. 

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Angel in the Darkness (M) pt. 8

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Word count: 6.5k

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au

A/N:This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (oral, penetration, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use… This is a mature read! You have been warned!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8



“Again? Didn’t we already talk about this?” your mother scolded with a sigh, as you two entered your small apartment.

She had gotten a call from work at the rehab centre, that you had gotten into another fight with the kids at your school. And this became an alarming concern to her since this was the third time this month that you had fought with others.

“I didn’t mean too…” the nine-year-old you sniffled, as you shyed away from your mother’s harsh glare.

“Y/n this is the third time this month that your school has called me!” your mother exclaimed tiredly from the kitchen, getting ready to prepare dinner for the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered from your spot on the sofa, trying to withhold your tears. You knew your mother hated when you got into fights – you didn’t even like it either, but the kids always picked on you. You just wanted them to stop…

“You said you were sorry last time.”

“I know…” you mumbled in reply.

“Then why do you keep fighting?” she frustrated. “No matter what those kids say, you don’t put your hands on them.”

“But they wouldn’t stop!”

“Then tell the teacher-”

“They hit me first,” you interrupted. This caused your mother to pause in the middle of her footsteps.

“Why?” she asked in confusion.

“They just wouldn’t stop saying those horrible things, even though I begged them…”  you said as your tears started to fall.

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His Throne [JHS]

Genre: Smut, some angst, some fluff

Word Count: 4,413

Summary: You, a maid for the royal family, have sex with the irresistible prince Jung Hoseok on his throne.

Tags: degradation, some praise, choking (kinda?), prince!Hoseok, dom!Hoseok, thigh riding

Written by: Admin Jifairy

A/N: So I figured since I just turned 18, I should challenge myself and write my first smut! It kinda totally sucks, but what can ya do?  PCs to vikttoria16.

Version: Jimin | Jungkook | Namjoon | Yoongi | Seokjin | Taehyung


You’d been working for the royal family for over a decade now. You knew every nook and cranny—every secret passage and hidden room in that palace. It was practically your home. You took care of it, constantly sweeping and dusting and mopping.

You also took care of Jung Hoseok, the spoiled prince residing in it. You always cleaned his room, washed his clothes and made his meals. But then somewhere in the mess of everything, you began taking care of him in a different way.

You always had a close friendship with the prince but that’s all it was—friendship. Until one day, two years ago, he approached you. That’s when it all began, your secret relationship with the seductive prince.

No one knew about your relationship, everyone always assumed it was purely friendship. No one ever expected the handsome prince to fall for a lowly maid like yourself, which made the relationship all the more perfect, in a sense.

At least twice a week you two would meet up for discreet, eager sex, and today was one of those days.

“Come ride me,” Hoseok demanded sternly, eyes already mentally undressing you. He sat in his gold throne with his crown sitting crookedly on his head. His robe fell around him, engulfing him in a pool of black fur.

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Views (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Word count: 2,557

“This is amazing, Shawn” I muttered, my jaw dropping amazed. 

“Dude, it’s dope” Brian agreed, nodding excited. 

Shawn had invited us all around to see his new flat and though the rooms were impressive, Shawn’s view over Toronto beat every view I’d ever seen in my entire life. Even the sunset Brian and I once watched in Sri Lanka didn’t do this one justice.

“Your mother outdid herself finding this” I said, looking out at the CN Tower lighting colourfully up in the dark. 

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Touch Yourself (Wonho x Reader)

Request: “Hiiiii could I request a Wonho smut where wake him up in the middle of the night because you’re horny. Thank youuu – anon”

Admin: Candi
Fandom: Monsta X
Member/reader: Wonho, female
Genre/warning(s):  smut, masturbation, thigh riding, dom Wonho, slight violence
Words: 1.1k

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