You'd Have To Be Some Kind Of Knotslut To Reblog This

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ what I know to be true ⋆｡˚ ೀ⋆｡˚ ༘

Childe wasn't a big fan of the Tsaritsa's demand for him to find a wife, until he'd come upon the perfect girl for the job. You—a lady he knew in his childhood to be a horrible nuisance and demon on Earth. Not only would this marriage fulfill his duty, but would let him settle a long-time grudge as well. Little did he know, he stood more to gain from this partnership than he thought.

Childe x fem!reader II arranged marriage, angst? to fluff, childhood enemies to lovers, romance!

Childe was never one for romance, and especially not for commitment.

He just had so much else on his plate, much bigger dreams than that of settling down in a household and abandoning his place on the battlefield.

He was always looking ahead to a future of bloodshed, of power, of someday ruling the world.

That wasn't going to happen if a distraction stood in his way.

He would sometimes muse about having kids, loving the idea of continuing his lineage and watching a bunch of mini-me's run around, but ultimately, he decided his duty to the Tsaritsa would stand in the way of him being a good father. So he'd just have to settle for being an amazing uncle to the children his siblings would eventually have, spoiling them with presents at Christmas time and teaching them how to protect themselves out in the wild.

So when he was called into the Tsaritsa's throne room and received the news that a harbinger of his status was to be married, in order to keep up with regal airs the nobles of Snezhanaya, he was, respectfully, very unhappy.

"You'll be seen at balls and lead battalions. Your role must be carried with honor. Nobody will respect an old lonely man.", she claimed, then drew out a long, thin arm to hold his chin with a bony hand—long pointed nails pressing divots into his skin. Though her touch was frigid, she looked down at him with a certain fondness in her eyes, though the sincerity of it was undistinguishable. "You need a pretty thing by your side to elevate your status. You know I only want what's best for you.", she cooed, like she was addressing a child.

He new better than to disobey her commands, and something about the smoothness of her voice assured him that this was the right choice. He only nodded, though his fists clenched at his sides in dismay.

Childe read over the listed names of eligible young ladies for him to marry with contempt; scrolling through the meaningless last names and accompanying statures, ordered from top to bottom by how highly they stood in the totem pole of nobility. Like he cared where the girl would come from.

He felt guilt for the miserable thing that would have to marry him; though he could care less about who these women were, he believed that they deserved a partner that loved them, or at least a good man that could stand to take care of them. All they would be to him is a nuisance, a label which they had done nothing to earn.

Though, when he neared the end of the list, a section devoted to common folk who had certain merits like striking beauty or some sort of fame, that he found a name he recognized.

Your name.

Oh, how he remembered you.

You were the daughter of good friends of his parents. Your families would often gather for holidays or dinner parties, sharing what little they had in the name of kinship. The gatherings were lively, full of happiness and cheer...

But you had a certain countenance that stood out to him and branded your name into a special part of his brain to be remembered for the rest of his life.

You were a little brat was what you were.

Though you were only a toddler when he met you, having only just taken your first steps while he was already halfway through being eight, he found you to be the most insufferable little human he'd ever met.

Your parents would always gab and brag about what a good little girl you were; how you never cried or screamed, how you were sweet and patient and loving—a wonderful surprise for parents preparing for the "terrible two's.".

They had to be lying, because every time Ajax would come into view you'd immediately throw a fit, wailing and swiping at his face with a kind of rage an entire army of men could not match.

He had no idea why; he never touched you, or spoke to you, all he did upon your first meeting was draw back in repulse.

You weren't a pleasure to look at; with your beady little eyes and thick eyelashes that lined them, your thin eyebrows and piercing gaze. You looked like some haunted porcelain doll. And there was a certain consciousness behind your eyes that children your age were not supposed to have.

His little siblings were much cuter.

And he did not hesitate to say that.

"Tonia was a prettier baby. What's wrong with her?", he piped up, humiliating his mother and father who immediately scolded him for his rudeness. Your mother only laughed.

"Trust me, she'll be a beauty when she grows up. I won't be surprised when you come around here in sixteen years asking to marry her."

This started a little musing session between your mothers, giggling about the possibility of their children being wed and how wonderful that would be for their friendship and their families.

Meanwhile, Ajax was dwelling on how that would absolutely never happen—if the look on your face was any indicator.

You were red as a tomato, nose scrunched in distain as your eyes pierced his. Like you'd understood him.

How was he supposed to know babies could take offense?

Whether or not your infant brain could comprehend his words, your hatred was clear, and before he could react, your soft little hand went flying towards his face and landed with a resounding THWAP!

Even though you struck him, you immediately burst into tears, bawling crocodile tears that ran down your face and dripped off of your chin.

All of the adults in the room immediately ran to your aid, hushing and petting you while scorning Ajax for "tormenting the poor girl."

Never before had he felt so cheated.

That begun his feud with a two year old.

Your detest for one another ran deep. So much so that every gathering between your families ended in you receiving plenty of sneaky pinches to your fat baby skin and him risking a bald spot with the amount of hair you'd rip out of his head.

It was a nightmare you could walk too, since you'd often seek him out just to babble in annoyance and tug at the knee of his trousers.

"See? Look at how much she likes you!", his mother would coo, but he knew better. Your grappling with his pants was your pea-brained strategy to get him to bend down and remove you so you could bop him one on the nose.

He swore you were such a strong baby. He'd rather take a hit from a club than suffer the force that your tiny fists could bring down on his head.

That's why you were the perfect girl to be his wife

If he were to marry any other woman, the guilt of leaving her alone at home for long stretches of time, depriving her of having the good husband she deserves rather than a man who could never love her, would be overwhelming.

Sure, he was a monster, but he wasn't about to let some innocent bystander be collateral damage.

But you? The evil, horrible little wench you are? You more than deserved it.

In his mind, he'd actually be doing his fellow man a favor by saving an unsuspecting bachelor from accidentally marrying a grisly thing like you.

So, although his retainers were already in the process of scheduling meetings with his potential brides, he plucked your name from the list without hesitation.

"Set the wedding date. I'll have that one."

The organizers looked between themselves warily, deciding whether or not they should challenge him on this monumental decision.

"And nothing too grand—it'll just be family.", he cooly added, leaning back in his chair to rest his feet upon his desk and crushing the list of names under his dirty boots.

In the end, the harbinger always gets what he wants, so his retainers retreated with quiet nods and quick steps.

Though Childe acted aloof towards the decision to have you as his bride, when the day of the wedding actually arrived and he found himself standing at the altar of a small church in Mosepok—his home town, his palms were sweating and eyes darting around nervously. He shifted his weight on his feet as the congregation waited for you to enter; this was supposed to be a small ceremony, but leave it to his mother and father's proud announcements to their friends and neighbors to draw a crowd. As his eyes scanned the faces of those who'd known him in his youth, he realized near all of the small port town was packed into the pews. He wracked his brain for the answer as to why these people would want to watch their old town troublemaker's union, but he supposed it would be the most interesting thing to happen in the town since his era of delinquency.

It was a miracle that the budget the Fatui gave Childe for this wedding greatly superseded the amount he'd needed for the original plan of a small gathering; it was more than enough to feed the whole town for a night, which actually brought a flicker of joy to Childe's chest.

He was pleased that he could give back to the community that handled him like a family in his childhood.

But that flicker was immediately quenched when the creaking sound of the heavy oak doors that led into the chapel reverberated through the room—revealing the silhouette cast in white of his bride.

His stomach turned with anxiety. Childe had led battalions into what could be considered suicide missions if not for their miraculous victorious outcome, and yet, somehow, the fear he felt standing in front of a girl that, though she may not be small by definition, definitely looked so standing next to him, significantly surpassed that of which he's ever felt.

His cold body shook like he stood inches from death.

Suddenly, he remembered the fury your little body had when you were only a baby, and it dawned on him that you've only gotten bigger, smarter, stronger. A little arbiter of the apocalypse couldn't have grown into the meek woman he imagined, if anything, her bloodlust grew with age.

What did he get himself into? Was he an idiot? Did he, blinded by his scheming for revenge, land himself in a lion's den?

With a light tap on the shoulder from the priest, he jolted out of his stupor and found you standing in front of him already, suddenly remembering that he was now to lift your veil.

His hands shook as he reached out, bracing himself for the hideous face he'd been forced to associate with at every friendly gathering between your parents in childhood, and now, due to his own brashness, would have to associate with every time he returned home or attended public events.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as he took the fabric between his white-knuckled fingers and threw the thing up and over your head. The procession hummed with awe and approval—some more boisterous men from the docks whistling, to which their wives jabbed an elbow into their ribs.

The sounds of adoration resounding from the audience perplexed Childe, drawing his interest and encouraging him to open one wary eye and peek at you.

But his cautious peek grew into an owlish gawking and dropped jaw when the woman before him shined like an angel.

This couldn't have been the girl he knew in her infancy; her once-beady eyes now twinkled like stars, her red puffy face was now sculpted and the only remnants of her discoloration resided in dusted pink pigments on her cheeks. They were so perfectly placed that they could be mistaken for a painting by an artist with a keen eye. He pried his gaze from your enrapturing eyes to ogle your lips—plushy and inviting. He'd give anything to kiss a gorgeous woman like you.

And he remembered with an unexpected delight that he would by the end of this ceremony.

Before he knew it, the soft ring of your voice settled upon his ears. Having been caught in a trance, he hadn't realized the procession already arrived at your vows.

He only tuned in after the opening sentences of your declaration had passed, your words blurred by his reverie.

"I promise to wait for you when you go and embrace you when you return; to make a warm, solace of a home for you that you can always come back to, whether there be a roof over our heads or not. I promise to follow you through this life and meet you in the next, to be by your side when you need me, no matter how far apart we may be forced to exist. I promise to love you and only you, to be true as long as your ring encloses my finger, and promise to keep it there forever. I will take your family into my arms just as you will me, care for them—as they are an extension of you, to love them just as I do you. I'll hold you ever close to my heart, speak to you with nothing but kindness, recognize your face as that of my partner in life, my one and only, and..."

Childe jumped when he felt your warm hand sneak up on his and gingerly intertwine your fingers, to which he did not resist, nor want to.

"I promise to love you as you are; no matter how much the years we spend together may change us."

To his puzzlement, Childe felt a certain wetness roll down his cheek, causing him to look up at the skylight above the both of you to check if it was raining. When another droplet ran down the other side of his face, he realized he was crying.

Childe never cried, he couldn't even remember the last time it had happened; maybe it was sometime when he was a boy, but the memory simply did not exist. These were not tears shed in misery, they were spurred by your words of devotion, words he'd never been blessed with before. He truly wondered now if you may be divine, but all he beheld of you told him you were, in fact, human, and not a vision of absolution sent from the heavens above.

You tilted your head to the side and blinked your dollish eyelashes at him, obviously waiting for something, to which he remembered that is was now his turn.

He had neglected to write vows beforehand or memorize the traditional vows spoken by couples bound by marriage as an arrangement. He had, in fact, planned on skipping the process altogether, but your profession of love caught him off guard and incentivized him to speak his own.

So, with a blank mind, he resorted to letting the few truths he knew spill from his mouth.

"I'd only known you during our childhoods, but how you've blossomed and changed has..."

He had never been one for words, so making something up on the spot in front of quite literally a hundred people was daunting. His voice seized with trepidation, but he took a breath and moved forward.

"Has...left me speechless. My mind is empty, and all I can think of now is...that I am blessed."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, struck by your endearing gaze on him—it made his voice quiver as it resounded from his chest.

"I'd assumed I knew you, but it's clear to me now that I have so much more to learn."

He unconsciously squeezed your hand for comfort, and, with a gentle smile on your face, you reassuringly squeezed back; making him sigh and yearn to feel more of you—imagining that you felt like warm cotton, soft and homey, something he could bury himself in and happily stay there for eternity.

"And I want to learn it. I...want to spend my whole life in awe of you, discovering as much as I can, knowing you like I know myself."

He could not hesitate before he blurted his next statement, his voice getting carried away from him and spilling his most personal beliefs.

"And loving you as you love me."

Your cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink, and your eyes glimmered as your perfect lips stretched into an even more enticing smile. He could hear your soft, happy sigh, a sound that not even the priest beside the two of you could catch, almost like a secret meant just for him.

Your sweetness enthralled him like nothing he'd ever experienced— slowly convincing him that you very well may be the best thing that's ever happened to him.

"I'll take care of you.", he promised, and meant it. "I'll spend the rest of my life ensuring your safety and happiness. Despite what you promised before, I will always put a roof over your head. You'll be forever warm and safe. I will fight for you, die for you, do anything you ask. You will want for nothing as long as you're mine."

His vow had come upon its conclusion with one final promise he all but growled, like it was somehow in danger of being broken—that he would go to any length to protect.

"And you will forever be mine."

His pause at the end indicated to the priest that the his vow had ended, and the way your lips parted in wonder and your wide eyes remained locked on his made him want to lean in and kiss you like every inch of his body burned to do. But he had to, begrudgingly, wait; hoping the ceremony would end as soon as possible so he could finally have you to himself and ask you all the questions he was dying for the answers to.

Did you really mean what you said? He sure did, and he didn't even know he had the capacity to not only promise, but want, desperately so, the fulfill the oaths he had declared to you.

Soon enough, the priest announced it was now time for the bestowing of the rings—a symbol of the bond you will share for eternity.

As the ring bearer, Childe's dear brother, Teucer, brought the rings resting on a white silk pillow over to the altar and held it over his head while he balanced on his tippy toes so the two of you could reach the rings with ease. Childe immediately felt awash in shame. All he'd purchased for you was a simple silver band—no precious gems, no original detailing, just a band. He didn't expect to want to take pride in the symbol of his loyalty you'd wear for him on your finger. He'd get you a new one, a better one—one he could admire as he kissed your hand, held it with adoration and smoothed his fingers over it.

But although the ring fell below expectations, there was no disappointment on your face. You barely glanced at it, your eyes trained on his face with a fondness he'd never received before. Your gaze had his heart spilling over with exaltation.

You took his hand in yours and slipped the perfectly fitted ring around his finger, giving it a small squeeze when you were done—as if to brand your affection deep into his hand.

He returned the gesture, taking your other hand in his and, carefully, securing the ring around your finger as well; he breathed a sigh of relief and felt a weight he hadn't known was resting on his shoulders alleviate. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to leap out in a desperate attempt to be ever closer to yours.

The priest spoke, but his voice was drowned out by Childe's inner voice, wailing for you.

All he could register was the sound of your silver bell-like voice, piercing through the fog in his head like a star's light in the void of the night sky above.

"I do.", you said.

He couldn't tell if he'd rushed ahead of the priest's announcement of his turn or not, but he followed your statement blindly.

"I do.", he whispered ardently, brushing the backs of those precious hands of yours softly with his thumbs.

After the final blurb recited by the priest, a sentiment he couldn't bring himself to listen to in his anticipation, he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Without a moment of delay, he brought both of his hands up to cup your cheeks, a look of ache in his face as it felt like you had reached an invisible hand into his chest and gripped his heart, and kissed you.

Fervently, passionately kissed you.

It took your breath away, left you panting when he finally pulled away after remembering he was, in fact, in front of his parents and broader community.

But cheers sang from the crowd for your union as he led you back down the steps of the altar and out of the church, eyes trained on your feet with your hand secured in his—watching carefully as you descended to make sure you wouldn't fall. He treated you as if you were sculpted from crystal glass.

After the two of you crossed the threshold out of the church as one, Childe gently tugged your hand to draw you closer so that he could whisper in your ear.

"Could we take a walk in the garden?"

While the guests made their way to the reception hall for their lavish dinner, you and Childe strolled through the church's garden together, hands still intertwined as the two of you gazed at the various winter shrubs and evergreen trees sprinkled with snow. It was beautiful in its own kind of way; the way life persevered through otherwise uninhabitable conditions, how even the bear oak trees existed as intricate silhouettes against the grey sky—providing cover as the sun sank down and gave way to a grim dusk, it was wonderful, and in this moment, it was yours to share.

The two of you came to a halt at a marble bench next to a large, frozen fountain, adorned with swirling details and moulding from an older, more fanciful era. He swiped off the snow that had built on top of the bench, then removed his large, fur-lined cloak to rest on the surface. He led you down to sit on it, having fashioned a dry, warm seat for you as he stood.

"Won't you be cold?"

"I'll be fine.", he assured you. He'd grown used to the frigid air of his home country, having entered various conflicts with nothing but thin linen to cover him for the sake of his movements not being burdened by thick, heavy fabric.

"Thank you.", you spoke, softly, and the words warmed his chest more than any coat could.

He stood there for a long moment, just taking in the sight of you. He just couldn't believe you were real, and couldn't believe you were his at so little a cost—he'd done nothing but bellyache and pluck your name off of a paper, and somehow the situation ended up being the best decision of his life. He'd found someone that claimed to truly, deeply love him by sheer chance.

And that thought brought him to the question that had been weighing on his mind since your vows.

"Did you really mean what you said?", he asked, quietly, hesitantly. After the words left his mouth, he wished he'd never said them. He didn't want to know the answer; if he could live in a fantasy where a miracle like you truly adored him, he'd seize the opportunity and hold it close to his heart for the rest of his life. He felt like such a fool.

"Of course I did.", you chuckled, like the question was ridiculous.

"I thought you hated me.", he confessed, his curiosity for your change of heart getting the best of him when he knew better than to ask too many questions. You only quirked your head and blinked at him, indicating that he needed to clarify. "When we were younger, you acted like you wanted my head on a stick."

To that admission, you laughed heartily. It was a lovely sound, one his mind would no doubt play on repeat in his darkest of times, sending sparks to his heart that would keep him moving forward—back to you so he could hear it again and again. "I was a toddler, dear. I didn't understand my feelings! And you were pretty nasty to me, too.", you said with a playful, pointed look.

The term of endearment made his heart bubble, craving to hear you say it again, but his mind was desperate for more answers. "But...how did you...", he coughed awkwardly, "fall for me?".

His carefully spoken question only made you giggle once again, but you could understand his confusion.

"Oh, Ajax. You were the most entertaining person I've ever met. I know we fought, but I remembered your presence in my life so fondly. And I'd look at pictures of us from our old gatherings, where our parents would force you to hold me on your lap and smile, or take candid shots of us chasing each other around, and I'd wish for you to come back so we could fight again.", you laughed at the memory. "I thought of you all the time, you know. And, as I grew older and life passed by, I'd keep looking back on those photos and...", your cheeks turned even redder than the chilly air had already done, flushing your cheeks and nose. After this conversation, Childe would make sure to rush you inside so you could warm up by a hearth. "Well, my heart would beat for you. And I wished you would come back for different reasons...so I could see you again and fall in love with the man you've become."

Childe gulped in shame. He knew the man he'd become was...cruel. Wicked. He'd never thought so little of himself than when he stood before you, your glorious, pure eyes assessing him like Celestia would upon the day of his death.

But how you looked on at him was not in judgement, but affection. "And when I met you at the altar, I did. I truly did."

He was so swayed by your words, so caught up in your devotion, that though he knew he was undeserving, he leaned down and connected your lips with his once again; his large hands warmed you where they caressed your cheek and the side of your neck, his lips thawing your frozen ones. The flavor of you was intoxicating, but as much as he wanted to prolong this moment, your icy skin pushed him to get you inside immediately.

So he drew back, drawing the most angelic whine of protest from your lips. It made him grin in pride.

"Let's warm you up, huh?"

Though you wanted to stay in the privacy of this isolated garden, continue to live in this moment that only existed for the two of you, you couldn't deny how you shivered and your stomach growled. It was time for your reception, and you couldn't keep your guests waiting.

So you, albeit reluctantly, let Ajax pull you up into his arms and throw his cloak around the both of you before taking you back to the church where he married you, now entering sharing one heart, one life, one love. Forever.

Source

Who in your family is breeding you first? Is your daddy having you carry a grandchild for him? Are you making your brothers show which of them is the better boyfriend who deserves to knock his sister up? Maybe there's an aunt or a cousin you've been pining for years, who'll wait until you're asleep visiting them before filling you... or are you keeping yourself for the puppy you were gifted some years ago, who's all grown up and ruts his mommy bitch whenever he wants?

😵‍💫 can i have all of them? please please please!

i should’ve been had by my dad first since he made me but my brother got to me first 🫠

Hi, Winter! What does your ideal date with Yuuji look like? <3

Aww that is such a cute question!! Thank you for sending it, Stephanie 💗💗 I wrote this as a reader insert so you and all my other fellow Yuuji lovers can go on that date with him too 💗💗

Yuuji x Reader (gn). Fluff. Minors don't interact. Divider @/saradika_graphics

A dream date with Yuuji would be a movie date! Going to the cinema together to watch a movie you both enjoy. Yuuji gets the tickets and is super excited. As a big movie lover, he absolutely LOVES to share this experience with you.

You get lots of snacks you can share and feed each other, which makes you giggle and laugh, and you end up stealing lots of sweet kisses from each other. But Yuuji takes movies pretty seriously, so you definitely WILL watch the movie, too. But that doesn't mean you won't get lots of cuddles from your boyfie. Yuuji kisses your cheek and whispers in your ear that you can lean against him, so you end up resting your head against Yuuji's broad shoulder while you're holding hands on the armrest. You can't help but grin because Yuuji squeezes your hand with his larger one anytime an exciting scene happens and then apologizes to you for it, even bringing your hand to his lips so he can kiss it better.

Afterward, you go to eat something. Preferably to a place where you can get burgers and fancy milkshakes. Yuuji smiles that gorgeous sunshine smile at you, and his honey eyes sparkle happily when he discusses the movie with you. It makes you fall even deeper in love with him to see how passionate he is about movies and how much he knows about the whole topic.

Your evening ends really romantic when Yuuji thanks you for the fun evening and tells you he loves you before he leans across the table to kiss you. Lots of slow, tender kisses where you can still taste the strawberry milkshake on Yuuji's tongue 💗

“REJOICE, BOYS”

Itadori's two moods

And he is always my baby

She killed the mommy bug in front of its babies as a warning….

Playing Horsey

"Dada!!! I'm so glad you're home!!" Daddy walks through the front door and sets his work stuff down. "Hi baby girl, I missed you today." I jump into his arms so excited to play with Daddy now that he's home. "Dada," I say as I bounce excitedly in his arms, "can we play horsey before Mommy comes home?" I squeeze him tight and kiss all over his face. "Please Daddy please!!!!" I'm continuously bouncing up and down unknowingly grinding on Daddy's jean-clad cock. Daddy holds me still and says, "Did you do all your chores little one?" I nod, "Yes Dada, all my chores are done just like you told me to." He smiles and rubs my wiggling butt. "That's my good girl. Do you know what good girls get, princess? They get rewards." I squeal in excitement, "Thank you, Daddy, I'm so excited!" He puts me down and I anxiously wait for him to sit down so we can start playing.

"Come here princess, come sit on Daddy's lap." I climb onto Daddy's lap and wrap my little arms around Daddy's big shoulders. "Before we start playing I need to check your panties, baby. Lean back into my arms and spread your pretty little legs for me, sweetie." I obey and flip my skirt up so Daddy can see my white cotton panties with a little wet spot in them. "Oh look at you, already wet for Daddy. You're such a good daughter. Alright baby, go ahead and start playing, make your kid parts feel good on Daddy's lap." I start bouncing and grinding on Daddy's lap making my princess parts feel all tingly. I don't know why this happens, but Daddy says that it's supposed to happen when Daddy plays with me. He says it's natural. He cups my boobies through my shirt cooing at me. "You're doing so well princess, don't stop. I'm just gonna take your little shirt off so I can see your pretty little baby tits."

My face goes red as he lifts my shirt. "B-but Daddy, you've never done that before. Is this normal? I don't think that Daddys are supposed to see their daughters without a shirt." He laughs and gropes my little bouncing boobies. "Awwww does this make you embarrassed, sweet girl? It's okay baby, all Daddys should see their little girl's boobies. It's Daddy's right to see all of his baby girl." I look at him skeptical, but Daddy has never done anything bad to me before. "Alright Daddy," I say still half embarrassed at my semi-nude state, "as long as it's what is normal." I continue bouncing on his lap, feeling my panties grow wetter with every bounce. My boobies are being massaged by Daddy. He is pinching my nipples making me squirm as I feel every sting.

I start to feel a warmth grow in my stomach. My legs start to shake and little whimpers spill out of my mouth. "Keep going kiddo, I know you're close. Don't stop playing, let Daddy make you feel good." My whimpers get louder as my panties fill with wetness. "Dada Dada Dada," I yell as I make a wet spot on Daddy's pants, "you make me feel so good Dada, I love playing horsey with you." He pinches my nipples one last time. "You're such a good daughter, baby. Would you like to make Daddy really happy?" I squeeze him tight so excited to be a good girl for Daddy. "Yes Dada, I want to make you so happy." He smiles, "Alright princess, lay down on the couch. That's it! That's my good girl. Now take off those pretty cum filled panties so Daddy can inspect your pretty little baby parts." I hesitate for a second. "Is that normal Daddy? Do other Daddys inspect their daughter's private parts?" "Yes kiddo it's very normal, but it's something private, so don't tell your little friends, okay princess. Now if you want to be extra good, you'll let Daddy put his big adult part inside you." I want to be the best girl for Daddy.

The Fire in Your Souls

Pairing: Antinous x Maid!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, hallway sex, vaginal fingering, teasing, name-calling, degradation, secret relationship, creampie, plotting a takeover, corruption

Word count: 1.2k

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: You know what? That one Anon got under my skin a little. Have some smut with my problematic husband.

When Antinous and his friends started visiting Penelope so many years ago you avoided them like so many other maids in the palace. Everyone knew that the Queen would wait for her husband to return. But no one knew just how stubborn the suitors were, particularly Antinous.

Penelope couldn’t exactly kick them out either so it was up to you and the rest of the maids and servants to make sure they did as little damage as possible. It didn’t help that the Prince had been getting into fights with them recently.

Tensions were certainly escalating. Particularly the one between you and Antinous.

It started with little flirts, glances here and there, his hand gliding against yours when you’d hand him wine. Then it was him grabbing your wrist and kissing your hand to thank you, much to the amusement of other men around him. After that he started hovering around tables you were at, loudly talking over his friends so you heard him more and watching your reaction to his stories. Then it became him waiting for you to arrive so he could take the wine and walk with you, talking to you more and more, getting into your personal space.

After that came the kisses in hallways. They were sudden, rough, full of his lust and pent up rage. Not at you, at Penelope, at Odysseus, at Telemachus. He hated that whole damn family. You should have hated him too. But the more you met with him in secret the more you wanted him, the more of yourself you gave to him, let him take and take, as much as he wanted.

“Much rather you be my Queen when I take the throne.” He stated while he shoved his tongue down your throat and grabbed you by the hips, pinned you against the cold wall.

“You’re talking about treason. I can’t let you do that, and you know it.” Despite his words your body responded favorably to his touches. Your hands moved across his strong shoulders, looping around his neck.

“Oh yeah? And how would you stop me? What are you gonna do? Poison my wine? If you wanted to do that you could have. But I think that deep down you like it. You like what I do to you, how I make you feel.” His hand snuck between your legs and cupped your pussy, feeling the slick gathering on his palm. “Such a naughty little thing. Be honest with me for once.”

You gritted your teeth and dug your fingers into skin skin like you wanted to add to the many scars he already had. “You’re right. I could have poison- ah! Poisoned you. When ever I wanted.” Antonius clicked his tongue at your threat before two rough fingers plunged into your pussyhole.

“You’ve got a lot of guts, I’ll give you that. Just the kinda thing I like in a woman. But I don’t take threats to my life lightly, not even from a whore like you. Letting a man between your legs so easily, gripping my fingers so hard.” His lips traveled down your neck, sucking bruises against your delicate skin.

“Not any man. Just you. Just you.” You moaned and offered him more of your neck, one of your legs hooking onto his hip, allowing him to fuck his fingers into you deeper. “Not enough. Fuck me properly or don’t at all.”

“And now you think you can order me around. You need to learn where your place is.” He growled against your neck, but he sounded more amused than angry. His fingers dug into the soft plush of your thigh and kept your leg up on his hip while his fingers did a scissoring motion inside your cunt, opening it up and letting the wetness flow down his hand and onto the floor. “You’re getting your precious Queen’s palace dirty. Let me help you with that. And don’t worry, I won’t tell. I’ll gladly be the one who will punish you for it.”

“Punish me how?” Your voice trembled in anticipation, you already knew the answer. You could feel it pressing against you, hot and throbbing.

Antinous grinned wickedly and sucked his fingers clean of your juices, his eyes looking down at your pussy, clenching around nothing. He shook his head, almost like he was pitting you, mocking you. He probably was. The fucking asshole he was. He pushed his clothes down around his ankles, not that he wore much anyways, always wanting to show off his body, his muscles, the scars that he wore like victory on his dark skin.

He grabbed his cock and slapped it against your cunt, causing it to ache even more every time.

“What should I do to you? I wonder…” He tilted his head as if this was even something he needed to think about. “I think… I think I’m gonna make the whole Palace hear you. That should be enough, for now.”

He hummed as his angry tip was pushed into your hole and was met with soft velvety inner walls.

Quickly his hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the sides of your head, making it so you can’t move, so you can’t cover your mouth. Before you could tell him he was being a jerk he shoved his whole cock into you in one thrust. A loud moan tore from your throat in response. “Gods!”

Proudly he smiled and leaned in enough that his lips brushed against yours, barely. His cock plowed into your pussy with force, pushing you onto your toes. “Scram for me. Let your Queen hear the kind of cockwhore she has in her service. Let everyone else know whose cock claimed you.” Antinous bit down at the column of your neck, hard.

You couldn’t stop moaning and chanting his name, your eyes trained on the ceiling just in case you didn’t say any other servant pass by and turn the other way. Best if you didn’t know. “You’re fucking me so good! So much better than fingers!”

“Mhm, I know, I know. I know what sluts like you want. Give you a good cock and you’ll do anything I say. Even keep our earlier conversation a secret. I promise it won’t be bad, just a little takeover, no one has to get hurt. And then we’re rule, you and me. Does that sound like something you’d want?” His words were soft but they sent shivers down your spine. Your brain told you to run from him, that he was dangerous, no good, a bad man. Your body had very different ideas, your pussy clenched around him so hard that his thrusts got even rougher to go against it’s tightness. “Yeah, I knew you’d like it. My pretty slut, my future Queen!”

Your hips met his in passionate thrust, you felt his balls slapping against you, his hands leaving marks, his breath catch as hot seed invaded your womb and planted itself there. “An-tonius!” You arched into him, riding his cock the best you could from your pinned position.

He let his lips fall against your shoulder, kissing it as he carefully slid out of your pussy. His hand returned back down and cupped your pussy, fucking the cum back into you when it dripped down. “That. Stays. In. There.” He announced with every thrust. “Otherwise how will we give Ithaca it’s future royal family?” As he kissed you again you felt a ghost of a loving smile press against your lips. He was still a bad man, but he was the man who conquered your heart, body and soul.

aaa i need a mom/dad to take advantage of me ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵͈᷄ ^ ˂̵͈᷅ ꒱ྀི১

preferably an older woman