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yandere-sins · 6 months ago

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Charming the Tyrant Emperor

A new isekai story from me? I know, bonkers! Actually inspired by the blurb I read on an actual isekai manga/manhwa/etc. BUT I liked the idea enough that I didn't read the story so I could write my own yandere version of it, hope you guys enjoy it ♥

Characters: Yandere!Emperor x Isekai!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Yandere, Forced Marriage Trope, Isekai Trope, Depiction of War, Violence, Attempted Murder (not from or on the reader)

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Sighing, you put down the packaging of the game you just loaded up, having hoped it would give you any clue about what it was all about.

A dark, black box with only the game's title imprinted on it—Fated Encounters—was as helpful as a blindfold in the streets. Thus, you threw it over your shoulder, hearing it plop onto your bed as you stared back at the character creation screen you had worked on for a while.

You had to admit, your character was really damn cute, from the pretty eyes to the custom outfit you put together. But at the same time, not knowing what the game was all about, it was hard to decide what was needed now: stats.

"Weird game," you mumbled, feeling slightly irritated at the lack of direction you had received. The friend who told you about it had simply called it "the best game I have ever played" before leaving you behind at the game store after having pushed the box into your hand. They felt very off lately, but you didn't know why. So you thought maybe if you played their favorite game, you could get them out of their shell and to spend time with you again.

Naturally, you could play it safe and just put an equal amount of points in all the stats, but where was the fun in that? You didn't know what occupation your main character had and had no idea what alignment you wanted them to have throughout the run, so you were like a stranded whale when choosing the right stats—utterly helpless.

And out of frustration about it, you decided to say fuck it.

Pressing the button of your controller, you held it until all of the points you were given went into charisma. Who needed strength, magic, defense, and health when you could simply talk your way out of every dangerous situation? Make everyone believe you were innocent and sweet while dodging the possible bullets. With your lack of knowledge about the game, it was the best choice, and if you liked the game, you could still revisit it with better stats next time!

Clicking 'start' almost excited you as you waited for the screen to change from black to an intro cutscene, but instead, another confirmation popped up, asking you, "Are you sure you want to proceed with these choices? Note: All choices have consequences."

"Ominous," you chuckled before hitting the confirmation again. The game made a small sound of acceptance before it finally turned black and stayed this way. Seconds passed, and you started to press all buttons, up, down, left, and right, until finally, you gave up, accepting that all your hard work creating this character had just been in vain, as your system must have frozen.

Frustrated, you forced a manual shut-down of your game system, discarding the controller somewhere on the table before getting up and letting yourself fall head-first into the mattress. What a stupid idea this was, you thought to yourself as you felt the hard box of the game poke your stomach. Anger unleashed upon the poor box as you yanked it out and discarded it on the floor, instant regret overcoming you as you hoped it wasn't broken so you could return the game.

You would definitely not go through all this work again to play it.

No way!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You awoke to the sounds of screaming.

Bellowing voices were all around you, yelling at one another, grunting, despairing. The ground beneath you shook with ferocity as the bangs of explosions hit you from both sides, barely shielded by the ringing in your ears. Alerted, you pushed your hands into the surface beneath you and felt your fingers dig into what felt like loose earth or sand while you tried to focus. What had happened? You only just fell asleep after being so frustrated with the game you couldn't play. Why had the atmosphere changed so drastically?

Gripping your head, a surge of pain went through you, a nasty gash on your forehead wetting your palm. The red was striking even through your blurred vision as you gazed at your hand, and reality was still hard to grasp as your senses suddenly cleared, letting in the unmistakable sounds of war all around you.

Hastily, you looked around, trying to focus on one thing and all at the same time. This place didn't look like your home at all! There was neither a bed nor your gaming setup around that clearly marked it as your room. Instead, you saw dirt everywhere, flames rising from bushes and trees, and the worst part—bodies.

Countless humanoid bodies lay in the dirt, the ground stained with what could only be blood. Most were face down, arrows sticking from their backs, spears slammed through the armor some of them wore. Some of their heads were rolled to the side, staring at you lifelessly, and for some reason, you were overcome by guilt, as if it had been your fault they died. You grabbed yourself by the arms as you were overcome by the horror, finally realizing you were on some battlefield, wounded and terrified, with no idea how you got there.

Had your country been attacked while you slept? How could you have not noticed it? Where was your family, why did these bodies look so medieval? What the hell was going on?!

Next to you, another person stirred, clad in black armor and clearly in pain. You crawled over to the knight, helm covering his face while he clutched his side.

"Hey! Hey, stay calm!" you called out to him, and he jerked at your voice, probably just as scared as you were. "It's going to be alright," you assured him, looking his body over for wounds until you noticed the gaping opening his hand tried to press down on.

"It's okay," you kept assuring him, hoping he wouldn't notice the wavering in your voice. You had no idea if it would be okay or not. Honestly, it looked pretty bad for him. All you knew was that one should press down on wounds to stop the bleeding, and although you felt bad, you put more pressure on top of the knight's hand, hoping that would help.

"Why..." he grunted, and you gulped.

"We have to stop the bleeding so we can get you to someone who can help! A-A doctor... healer, something like that! I don't know, I'm sorry! This is all so strange, I have no idea what's going on! I'm doing my best! I just don't know what to do! I'm so so sorry!"

Your whole body was wracked with shivers as you tried to assist and help this person somehow when the sound of his voice suddenly cut through your panic in a way you didn't expect.

He chuckled.

"No, why would you help me?"

"You're hurt..." you whispered in response, saying it before thinking clearly.

"It's war. Would you not want your enemy to be hurt?" he asked, his voice lightening with curiosity. Even if the concept of war was so unfamiliar, only known through stories and history to someone like you, you understood that he meant that hurt and death were inevitable when two sides clashed. Still, it meant very little to you, who couldn't bear these thoughts even though you had to have them.

"War is awful! No one deserves to be in pain or die!" you sobbed, tears having collected in your eyes. This wasn't the right moment for your pity party; after all, this man was probably as good as dead. Yet here you were, making it about yourself and your stupid, conflicted feelings. But this guy was perhaps the same as you, lying in the dirt, scared and frightened. You didn't want the closest thing to an ally you had, to die miserably.

"I don't want this! I don't want you to die! I don't care if you're my enemy! You deserve to live and be happy! Enjoy your life, eat good food, and be in love with someone who loves you just the same! It's not fair! No one should have to die in vain!" you yelled, and it took him a moment before he laughed softly, rolling his head over the ground.

"Your Highness, get away!" someone yelled, the voice clear and strangely familiar as the black knight next to you suddenly rose from his early grave. Even though you both sat on the ground, he towered over you, the shining black of his armor looming like death incarnate. His hand reached up towards your face but instead caught your wrist from where it had touched him. You jolted in surprise, his grip crushing as it wrapped around you. Gasping out in pain, an arrow suddenly came swooshing through the air, cutting close enough to the knight's grip on you that you could feel the wind on your exposed skin around your hand, tearing you out of your fear and pain.

For a moment, his grip softened, and this time, your body responded perfectly, yanking yourself out of his hold and toppling back. It was neither elegant nor careful. It hurt as your elbows crashed onto the ground, your lower back taking most of the blow, but at least you were a few inches away from that strange knight.

Strong arms hooked underneath your body, the presence of many people surrounding you as you were lifted from the ground swiftly. You heard all sorts of armor clanking and clicking as people moved around, but even more so, you were forced to listen to the blood-curdling screams of soldiers being struck down right in front of you.

Was it the black knight or the ones now crowding around you? All of the people here wore silver plates, but you could only see hints of black through the gaps in their formation.

"Your Highness, you need to leave right now! It's too dangerous to remain here!" the soldier that held you from behind yelled over the screams, and without asking for permission, your hand was once again gripped by a bigger one, dragging you after him as he ran.

More knights closed in as you two stumbled in the opposite direction, shouting and attacking enemies behind you while you stumbled over your feet, trying to keep up. Hand lodged tightly in the iron grip of the knight, he didn't look back as he made his way through the soldiers, almost as if his mission wasn't fighting but rather fleeing.

Not so much you. Somehow, you couldn't shake off the need to look back, to assure yourself, to see something you weren't yet in the place to judge.

There he stood amongst the silver knights, flames reflecting in the brilliance of his black armor. You had been sure he had been severely wounded. Yet, he swung around his battle axe effortlessly, striking down the soldiers one after the other as if they were no match for him.

"Hurry, your Highness!" the soldier yelled, tugging you forward repeatedly as the black knight's head appeared to look up. He met your gaze in a bizarre look as it was covered in his helmet, yet you could feel his eyes drilling into you, fixating on yours while he was being attacked.

It was you who had to break the strange eye contact as you were suddenly gripped by your hips and unceremoniously lifted into the air, falling into a saddle on top of a nervously stomping horse. Reigns shoved into your hands, you yelled out in surprise as the animal took off, no regard to its rider's condition, and you could only cling to the reigns and saddle as it gallopped of to who-knows-where.

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"He keeps advancing towards us, showing no signs of stopping."

"He won't stop no matter how much gold and resources we promised him! Open your eyes, Minister! It's not like he spared any of the cities he rode through during his conquest! They don't call him the "cruel tyrant" for nothing!"

Many men shouted angrily around the large table, making their panic and frustration known as they discussed how to stop the tyrannical approach of the new emperor who reigned over even his own vassal state. From small ministers to military captains, no one knew what to do, and the pressure threatened to overcome all of them. The crown on your head still felt as heavy as the first time they forced you to wear it—unfamiliar, not right. They called you their Queen, yet you didn't feel royal at all.

Because you weren't, you were an imposter.

For all you knew, you had taken over some noble's body while they were attacked by the emperor's forces. That noble turned out to be of quite a high standing, putting you into this awful position of ruling a queendom. No matter how much you asked for information from the people around you, they'd give you weird looks, expecting you to know the answers to your own questions. Still, you couldn't exactly tell them you weren't that person either, not knowing what they'd do with you if that were to happen.

And it was all that stupid game's fault.

You had no idea how this could have possibly happened. "Isekai" was only ever a concept you had seen in stories and games. But when you sat in front of a mirror for the first time, you immediately remembered the face that looked back at you—the character you had created. The disconnect to your body was severe and real; no matter how much you rubbed your face and grimaced at your reflection (the maid giving you apprehensive glances), you had to eventually accept that this body was who you were. Things still didn't make sense, but you tried your best in the new role, although it never felt right.

"If only someone had killed the emperor when they had the chance," one of the ministers noted with a dramatic sigh. All eyes fell on you for just a short moment, making you cower. You couldn't have known! That's what you kept telling yourself. He technically told you he was your enemy, but how would you have known that without playing the game? But you doubted you could have really killed the black knight—the emperor—even if someone had told you that he was your mortal enemy. Even if your body was that of the monarch under attack by the emperor, you didn't have a sword and much less the will to kill someone.

However, your hesitation made you look incapable in everyone else's eyes.

Now, you didn't just have to deal with the upcoming attack—your head still throbbing from the gash whenever you thought about the war—you were also scrutinized by everyone for failing to protect them from the emperor's advances. It was a lot to handle for someone so wholly underprepared as you were. This wasn't your life, but for them, it was all they had ever known.

The door being suddenly thrown open saved you from yet again explaining why you didn't kill the emperor when you had the chance. Why you let him live despite "knowing" who he was. All eyes fell on the butler standing in the doorway, panting heavily, holding up a letter and fanning it in the air with urgency.

"Your Highness!" he yelled through despite the lack of hair. "A letter arrived! A letter from... from... the emperor!"

Gasps went through the rows of people as the one closest to the door jumped up, ripping the letter from the butler and opening it. Some ministers gave each other worried looks, and some stretched their heads towards the one reading the letter as if to see better.

Suddenly, the minister rejoiced, laughing out loudly, and you were uncertain if that was a good or bad sign. He did sound indignant, but at the same time, he seemed to have just solved all the worries in the world.

"An alliance! The emperor wants a marriage alliance with us!"

People sprung from their seats as they cheered, although some of the older ones sent worried glances towards you. "The war is over!" someone yelled, and more of them fell into a chant as they danced around the table. But could it really be that easy?

"Uhm, I'm sorry?" you called out, gathering the attention of those still seated. "The emperor wants to marry who?"

Now, all the eyes were back on you as the cheers died down. The letter was passed towards you, the oldest, wisest minister at your right looking it over, adjusting his monocle to read it properly. Sputtering a little, he lowered the paper again, leaning forward and reaching for your hand, cupping it gently, encouragingly. Yet, you didn't feel comforted at all.

"That would be you, your Highness."

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Still as the dead, you stood in the forest clearing, waiting. Everyone around you was tense as they waited for the emperor's delegation. But you were long past nervosity. Between the letter and the arranged date to hand you over to the emperor's delegation were months of tears and training.

You tried to revolt and make the people understand that you couldn't possibly marry him! But it all fell on deaf ears when you screamed and raged. Rumors had reached you of how he had killed potential spouses for less. How this was all a facade and how the emperor would still ruthlessly conquer the land that had made you its ruler and then kill you to mock them on top of it. And you had shed many, many tears pleading for your life. Almost everyone had cried with you, chastizing you while their own hearts broke, taking pity on you, and comforting you.

But to these people, you were the only hope they had.

Perhaps you would have conducted yourself more gracefully if you had been their real queen. Accepting your fate and enduring the strict training needed to ensure you were perfect for the emperor. When you asked them to stop pleadingly, they would. But after a brief rest, you were forced to train again, your muscle memory of very little help when all the etiquette wasn't good enough for the empire's standards. It was while you were training that you finally understood something.

Every choice had consequences.

The game had warned you before starting and freezing on you. If you acted up, threw tantrums, raged, and went against what the people wanted, you got nowhere. But instead, if you sympathized with them, asked nicely, and conducted yourself well, you got everything you wanted. Giving them what they desired always ended in you getting your will. All points in charm, right?

So, if you wanted to survive, then you had to find out what the emperor desired. Quickly.

All of your senses were in survival mode, making you seem graceful and dignified while you waited, going through countless scenarios in your head. If he wanted money, you'd tell him how to construct something lucrative from your world. If he wished to reign the world, you'd offer him to conduct peace treaties in his name, having to charm more people so they'd agree. You had devised a solution to almost every problem when birds flew out of the trees, alerted by the incoming caravan.

On your way to the empire, you'd listen intently to the delegate to be prepared. Everything would be fine. You could do it. All points in charm would help you! You had trained yourself for this and made sure you were more aware of people. Everything would be fine!

But you didn't expect to see the black armor that haunted your dreams to lead the delegation, the emperor himself arriving before you the moment his horse stepped out into the clearing.

You drew in your breath sharply before bowing deeply as his horse came to a halt in front of you while your heart raced. The clattering of armor took you back to the war, your body wincing with trauma. You weren't prepared for this, his heavy footsteps shaking your resolve as they approached. Some maids gasped in horror, the soldiers on your side readying their weapons to defend you.

How could they? Everyone knew what he was capable of!

But they loved you too much to not defend you with their life if they had to. So you remained low—for their sake, too. Until a hand reached beneath your chin, cold metal clinging to your skin as your head was lifted, forcing you to face your worst fear.

With you standing straight again, he still towered above you, much like when you met him on the battlefield. His touch lingered as he reached around his head with his free hand, pulling off his helmet. His looks hadn't been much of a surprise as the emperor had sent you his painting along with countless presents once the deal was made. But still. He was devilishly handsome for such a cruel man, with hair as black as his armor and eyes as red as only the fiend could have.

"There you are," he murmured, only meant for your ears. "I've been waiting for this."

"So have I," you replied quickly, not wanting to disgruntle him at the first meeting despite your voice wavering with fear. It wasn't the ideal situation—perhaps there never would be one—but your plan was still solid: find out what he desired and force him to keep you alive to get it.

His gaze shifted from one of your eyes to the other, searching for a lie. But it wasn't. Ever since you realized you couldn't change the fate that was to befall you, only sweeten it, you had waited for the day you'd meet him.

Pleased with his findings, or the lack thereof, his lips cracked into a wide grin, befitting of the cruel tyrant as it paired well with the glint in his eyes to reveal only madness. So far, it had gone well, but you couldn't count on his mood appearing to be favorable. He was as unpredictable as his strategies on the battlefield; that much you had learned already about him. To further fall into his good graces was all you could do.

"I was surprised about your proposal," you spoke calmly, putting some of those charms to work. Reaching up, you pulled the emperor's hand from your chin, instead cupping his palm over your cheek and holding it there. The emperor watched every one of your moves with curious interest, probably expecting you to try and kill him at any given time as well. Almost, you two were alike like this.

"I didn't expect you to want--"

"You."

You forced a grin, chuckling curtly, and his expression sank slightly. "Yes, me. Why me? Why not someone from the empire or the other states? What could you want with little ol' me?"

Lips curled back even more, showing off teeth that seemed almost predatorily sharp before the emperor suddenly burst into laughter, doubling over while still holding your face in his palm. The soldiers around you two were completely taken aback at the emperor's sudden outburst, inching closer while some backed away in fear. He regained his composure quickly, though, bringing his other hand up to cup your face fully now between them as he chuckled, inspecting your face thoroughly.

"You have such a refreshing way of speaking, my dear. Unlike any other noble I've ever met. And I could just eat you up for it." His thumb loosened from the side of his hand, rubbing over your cheeks gently. The metal left a cold smear on your skin, but you forced yourself not to react to it, holding his gaze firmly while you feared that looking away could be your death sentence.

"But that was not the reason," he clarified, and you gave him a small nod, indicating that it was fine with you. "It was what you said on the battlefield. That you didn't want me to die. Me. Do you know how many of our peers disagree on that? Do you know how many I have beheaded for less than wishing for my death?"

"I do not."

He stared at you with this maddening smile on his lips before the emperor's expression suddenly softened, his thumb returning to caress your cheek. "Good," he sighed, sounding almost relieved. "I don't want to scare you. Very well then."

Letting his hands fall from your face, you still didn't feel like grasping the situation completely, but you didn't hold on to him, watching instead as he hiked up his pants, adjusting the armor over his legs before taking a knee in front of you. Everyone—including his side of soldiers—gasped, but the emperor paid them no mind. The boon of the strongest must have been that no matter what he did, he couldn't care less about the opinions of others, and he made it very clear, asking silently for your hand by presenting his own.

There was no reason to refuse him, so you placed yours into his palm, letting it linger as he reached upwards, pushing back the sleeve on your arm. His grip tightened as the bruises you had suffered from your training were exposed, face falling as he looked at the damaged goods that you felt like. Panic rose as you feared his anger, and you quickly reached over to push down the fabric again when his eyes fell from the wounds to yours, overpowering you and pushing the sleeve out of the way.

"I promise to take you as my spouse," he announced solemnly, leaning down to kiss the back of your head.

"To love and honor you, as will you, me," his lips wandered upwards as he muttered the words, kissing the small specks of bruises littering your arm.

"Not to hurt or trouble you," he looked up, lips curling into a cheeky grin as he lightly bit your arm, making you gasp before adding much more quietly, "Unless you like it."

"And protect you until my dying breath."

Finalizing his oath, the emperor quickly got up again, smiling at you like a child on Christmas. You had no idea what kind of awkwardness lay in your own expression, but when he offered his arm, proceeding with the handover, you barely hesitated to link yours with his. As if this new life wasn't surreal enough, you didn't understand his character at all. Was he a terrible tyrant or a kind husband in the making? Mad or simply living up to what people expected of him? Searching for comfort in you or planning something devious and evil?

But before you could ponder these thoughts, you heard a sudden commotion behind your back, making you look back only to see one of your soldiers break out of the protective formation and charge toward your new husband with a dagger raised.

"Die, you monster!" he yelled, aiming for the emperor's back. However, your husband twisted around without letting your arm fall, catching the dagger in his free hand. "Careful," he grumbled. "You could hurt my wife with that."

With a strong yank that you only saw, not felt, the emperor discarded the dagger, his soldiers crowding in and grabbing your knight, kicking his knee until he was doubled over. With an appalled gasp, you detached from your husband's arm, but he caught your hand, pressing his palm to yours and linking your fingers forcefully, every one of his movements deliberate, yet no less oppressing, as if to make a point.

"Tell me what to do with the traitor, my Love," your husband asked, eerily asking for your opinion. You gulped, the life of the knight weighing heavy on your mind like the crown. Looking at the emperor, he was waiting patiently for your decision, but you knew he had no intentions of letting this knight live, and you gulped. You had to survive. You had to put yourself first, even if it hurt.

"I don't want any more bloodshed. It makes me feel terrible," you whispered, looking away in defeat. "But I understand if its what you have to do."

All you had was your charm. You could have pleaded for the knight's life, but if it wasn't what the emperor wanted, you wouldn't convince him and risk your own. The words left you with a heavy heart, but it was the best you could do for yourself. You had to save yourself if you wanted to make any change—and that was hard enough.

"Very well, then," the emperor announced suddenly, turning away from the knight that attacked him, instead wrapping your arm around his again. Confused, you looked back as your husband moved onwards towards the carriage, glimpsing the same confusion in the eyes of the other soldiers.

"You're not going to kill him?" you asked as the emperor signaled for a servant to open the door to the carriage, making sure you had a steady hold on him as he led you into the inside.

"No. You said it makes you unwell. I don't want that."

"But... why?" you asked, feeling a little stupid as you took a seat in the luxurious carriage, much better than the one your state had provided for you to travel to this spot. "Isn't that what you want?"

"Again, you ask about what I want. Is that all you care about?"

You gulped, feeling busted as you watched him climb inside right behind you, his armor making it hard to move, but he managed just fine. Still, his question felt genuine and less like he expected something, so you decided to play dumb.

"Is it not the most important thing for your wife to know?" you mumbled, the subservience in your own question almost making you gag. It was hard to throw away your values, even if, in the age of this game's setting, you had to play along unless you had the strength to rise above.

The moment he sat down, the carriage began to move, your body losing its strength at the unexpected movement. However, sturdy arms caught you, helping you to sit upright again and find the emperor's gaze on you, his expression briefly worried before it grew serious. It felt like you messed up big time, and that so shortly after meeting him, too.

But then the seriousness cracked away again as he smiled, shaking his head softly. "Ridiculous," he mumbled, his eyes flitting up to meet yours again after taking a deep breath. "I just can't be mad at you, no matter how stupid your questions are. Aren't you glad you are such a charmer?"

Yes. Very glad. Very, very glad. At least at that moment.

"Then I will say it once more," he announced. "Make sure to not forget it, as I won't repeat myself a third time."

With comical playfulness, he poked your forehead, making you scrunch up your face, and he laughed at your expression in return.

"When we were on the battlefield, and you told me you didn't want me to die, I realized I couldn't. You may have been simply pitying me or trying to be nice in my last moments, but my body was overcome with vigor as if you had commanded it not to die. That's how sincere your words felt."

He leaned back, but his eyes never left you, even as he took a break from talking to seize you up. You had an inkling that without knowing about your skills yet, all points in charms must have worked back then, too.

"Almost like you put a curse on me..." he added, eyes narrowing as he thought. Gripping your thighs, you realized that, technically, this wasn't good news. Technically, you had caused this mess. All choices had consequences, and you made one without realizing it by telling him not to die.

"You are the only one who wishes for me to live, so I knew you were the only one who could stand by me. And now look what you make of me, no more wars, no bloodshed, just as you demand. Do you know what that means now?"

"That you... want to settle down?" you mumbled, half joking, half unable to think of a better response.

"No." Again, he tapped you on the forehead, and you got a feeling it was his way of reprimanding you.

"I will do as I said, protect you, love you, honor you. As long as you are with me, I will be good. I can't promise to be peaceful all the time, but at least in front of you, I'll keep my vows, and I assume you, too, bear responsibility for taking everything I want from me and replacing it with what you want. Our encounter must have been fate, as nothing could shake me until you came along. So tell me, and I hope you took note, what do I want?"

Silence fell over you two as you tried to work through all the information you had acquired. He'd stop waging war? Would stop the bloodshed? Just because you wanted him to live and he wants to honor his vows in return? This could never undo the harm you knew he had already caused to so many, but it had the potential to better the future.

"You want..." you mumbled, thinking about what it could be. It felt as if it was on the tip of your tongue, but no matter what scenario you recalled playing through in your head, you couldn't find one that fit. No money, no territory, just something he claimed he already told you.

Your eyes widened as you realized it, and the cruel emperor's grin widened madly in response.

"Correct," he murmured, leaning forward until his lips were brushing against yours, his palm returning to cradle your cheek.

"You. I want you."

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ozzgin · 11 months ago

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I live your human streamer x monsters! Imagine them doing unboxing videos and gifts from fans. Of course you get sweet ans who send really nice gifts. Then you get the fans who might send a bit more suggestive gifts. I think it would be pretty funny off some monsters sending yn "courting gifts". Poor gullible yn who is too nice to say know. Plus they don't exactly know its that type of gift

[Referring to this story] Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW under the cut!

You didn’t think much of it. One day, one of your monster viewers had asked if they might send you a gift in the mail. You cheerfully agreed to it and continued eating your food, moving on from the topic.

Then you found your entrance door blocked by dozens of packages.

As it turns out, a lot of your monstrous fans had the same intention. You decided to start doing unboxing videos, clearing out your ever-flowing queue of gifts.

Some are innocently sweet. The plant creatures prefer surprising you with fresh bouquets of flowers or harvests. The bird hybrids usually go for shiny, eye-catching jewelry. You’ve received a cursed locket from a deep-sea kraken, and a haunted doll from one of your cheeky ghost followers.

Other packages are bolder in their intention.

“Is this a promise ring?” you wondered out loud, fumbling to comment on the unexpectedly romantic gesture and trying to hide the deep blush.

The worst part about these particular offerings is that they always seem to trigger a certain jealousy within the other viewers; it results in some increasingly ridiculous attempts to one-up the previous. You had to threaten to stop doing these videos once you found a wedding gown in one of the boxes.

If you've decided to delve into adult content for your monster fans, the variety of presents expands even further.

At first, you mostly received additional props for your content. Maybe a revealing outfit, or a pair of handcuffs. It didn't take long for your patrons to gain more confidence in their choices. You've hesitantly unboxed different kinds of sex toys, with little handwritten notes begging asking you to use them in your upcoming livestreams.

The turning point was when you revealed a custom-made dildo, bearing the shape of your viewer's own appendage. The chat had briefly gone silent while you gawked at the bizarre toy. Of course, they thought begrudgingly, what better gift than a way to fuck you from a distance?

Needles to say, you woke up to piles upon piles of similar "donations". You wondered if there's some erotic shop out there confused at its sudden spike in sales.

"Are you guys serious?" you whined, pulling out a large, silicone tentacle the size of your torso. "At this point I think I've collected all of your genitals."

"Mine hasn't shipped yet", a viewer comments.

[More Monsters]

#monster streaming #monster imagines #monster x reader #monster x human #monster romance #monster smut #monster boyfriend #terato #teratophillia #monster fucker

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fear-is-truth · 5 months ago

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જ⁀➴ HOW THEY CELEBRATE VALENTINE’S DAY WITH YOU

ft. bruce wayne ‧ dick grayson ‧ jason todd ‧ damian wayne ‧ tim drake — headcanons

a/n: happy valentine’s day !! ♡

BRUCE WAYNE doesn’t really care about valentine’s day. he cares about you, though, which means he acknowledges it, even if he’d rather ignore the whole ordeal. a private dinner, away from prying eyes, in a restaurant where the lighting is low and the waitstaff are paid to be invisible. at some point, he slides a gift across the table—carefully chosen, either indulgent or deeply personal. a diamond necklace, or maybe a signed first edition of your favourite book—something you’d mentioned in passing months ago, tucked away in a conversation. he remembered. later, in the limo, bruce pulls up the partition before finally, finally catching your mouth in a kiss.

DICK GRAYSON loves valentine’s day. loves love. loves you. so he goes all out. you wake up to breakfast in bed: heart-shaped pancakes smothered in syrup with strawberries piled high. the card he hands you has a corny pun, but devastatingly sweet. he pairs it with an enormous teddy bear (too big to fit on the bed) the whole day is an adventure—ice skating, movie, rock-climbing, and when the sun starts to dip under the horizon, he leads you to the rooftop, setting up a picnic under the stars with an overpriced bottle of wine.

JASON TODD thinks valentine’s day is bullshit. it’s a scam designed to separate idiots from their money over overpriced chocolates and flowers that die in a week… but if it matters to you, then it matters. so he shows up at your door, a second helmet in hand, jerking his head toward the motorcycle without a word. he takes you on a ride through the city, the wind whipping past, your arms wrapped around his waist. when you get back, instead, when you get back, he orders greasy takeout—nothing fancy, just what you both want. the food barely lasts ten minutes before it’s abandoned, containers shoved aside, forgotten as he pins you onto the couch. the whole night was just prelude to this.

DAMIAN WAYNE does not partake in artifice or frivolity. no, he doesn’t acknowledge valentine’s day at all. the flowers, chocolates, saccharine bullshit irritates him. but you wake up to find a oblong wrapped package on your nightstand, and when you open it, it’s a weapon. a beautiful, custom-forged blade, perfectly balanced, your initials engraved into the hilt. when you ask him about it, he barely glances up from his sketchbook. if you are to be involved with me, you should be properly equipped. but you think you can see the tiniest flicker of satisfaction when you tell him you love it.

TIM DRAKE planned the entire thing weeks in advance. he’s always been an overthinker, and wants everything to be perfect for you. he shows up at your door slightly frazzled, running on caffeine and pure determination. over dinner (the reservation booked since christmas), he hands you a small velvet box. inside, a minimalistic yet stylish bracelet—just when you‘re about to thank him, he just smirks and presses the clasp. it’s not just jewelry. it’s a custom-built device, wired with a discreet GPS tracker, a silent distress signal, and—his personal favourite—a high-voltage taser disguised as a charm. just in case, he tells you, like it’s an afterthought.

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yanderedrabbles · 7 months ago

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Yandere Christmas Special

Christmas festivities featuring your local kidnappers Yandere! Soldier and Yandere! Sugar Daddy.

Yandere! Soldier who spends all Christmas morning at mass. And when he comes home, snow thick on his uniform, he smells like incense.

"Come see. I've brought you something."

There's a bottle of strong vodka and a frosted fruitcake waiting for you on the counter. You watch him unwrap the cake, your mind wandering to your family, to Christmas mornings when you were still an angsty teen. Did they think you were dead by now? Were they still looking for you?

He cuts a thick slice and holds it to your lips. It's sweet and dense and leaves your mouth sticky.

Yandere! Soldier who tilts your chin towards him and casually runs his thumb across your bottom lip to catch any stray crumbs.

"Let's drink, yeah?"

The vodka is icy cold and bitter. But the taste makes you think of friends and university and late nights when you were too tipsy to stand but oh so warm inside. You throw back more shots than normal, trying to chase the memories.

It's only when he gently pulls the bottle away that you realise you're far past tipsy. You're straight hammered.

You stumble when you stand and he's quick to catch you, one strong arm around your waist.

"You've got no head for drink, моя любовь."

"What does that mean?"

"It means it's time for bed."

You swat at him, irritated. "No. The Russian you used. What does it mean?"

He gently steers you toward the bedroom. "It means my love."

You twist around to face him. "Do you really love me?"

He raises a brow. "Alcohol loosens your tongue, doesn't it?"

He's quiet for a moment, studying you. The flush of your cheeks, the curve of your neck... You're everything he's ever wanted.

"Yes. I really love you. Я клянусь, что да."

I swear I do.

You stand on your toes and kiss him. Cradle his face in your palms and feel the heat of him bleed into you. You're so awfully cold, so awfully lonely. You'll regret it in the morning, but for now you press into him and chase the taste of vodka on his lips.

He pulls away and presses sweet, ticklish kisses against your inner wrist. He can feel your pulse racing.

"я полагаю, это мой рождественский подарок."

I suppose this is my Christmas present.

He grabs your thighs and picks you up. You wrap your arms around his neck, terrified of falling. Your breath ghosts across his neck and your nails dig stinging crescents into his muscles.

He doesn't say it out loud, but it's the best gift he's ever gotten.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy has a tree stacked high with gifts. On Christmas morning, he wakes you up with a kiss and a mug of your favourite hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream and cinnamon sticks.

At first, you assume most of the boxes are just for decoration. There's over a dozen boxes waiting for you - they can't all be gifts, right?

But you should know him better by now. You unwrap present after present, gasping at each one.

A set of custom perfumes from a high fashion brand. Ten different pieces of Tiffany jewellery. A genuine fur coat. Your first pair of Louboutin heels.

Keys to a new car.

You sit in the middle of a treasure trove, struggling to wrap your head around it. He rests his chin on your shoulder and pushes his glasses up his nose.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes! Yes, it's incredible." You turn to face him. "But babe, this must have cost a fortune. I can't accept all of this."

He tilts his head. "Of course you can. I got it all for you."

You're about to argue when he cuts you off. "You said you got me something too?"

You nod and hand him two packages. Your dollar store wrapping paper is glaring cheap next to his.

He unwraps his gifts slowly. The first one is a journal you picked up in a thrift store, weeks before your argument left you trapped with him. Back when you still had your freedom.

You got your artist friend to emboss his name in gold leaf on the front cover. He flips it open to the first page.

To my tech genius boyfriend. This is what we normies call paper. You use it to record all the times your girlfriend is just absolutely incredible, got it? -y/n

He smirks and rubs the page between his fingers.

"I've only heard distant legends of this 'paper'... How fascinating."

You groan. "It seemed funny at the time okay?"

His next gift is a pottery vase, with elegant fluted handles. It's a deep cream with flecks of reddish iron bleeding through. He stares at it, his expression blank.

Your heart drops.

The truth is, you spent months looking for that specific vase. And when you finally found someone willing to sell, the price they named made your jaw drop. You haggled like hell for it. Practically begged the seller on your hands and knees to let you pay it off over a few months. Until this morning, it was a gift you were proud to give him.

But his gifts to you took all morning to unwrap, while all you can offer is a shitty notebook and some amateur pottery. You hate not being able to return his generosity in equal measure. You hate feeling like you're always giving him the short end of the stick. Even now, when you have every reason to hate him, it hurts that you can't spoil him like he does you.

He finally looks up at you, dazed. "This is an original Murazaki. How did you know I wanted one?"

"You mentioned it a few months ago. When we were having dinner together in my apartment."

He puts the vase down carefully.

"You remembered?"

It's your turn to be confused. "Of course? You were really upset about it. You said he was your favourite artist but that you could never find any of his stuff for sale."

He stares at you like he's trying to pick you apart. You look down, embarrassed.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't get you more gifts. I feel like an ass. Like the world's worst girl-"

He grabs you before you can finish and pulls you flush against him. He buries his face in your hair. He takes a deep breath, like he needs to control himself.

"You remembered."

He kisses your temple and then presses his forehead against yours. His voice is low and loving and just a little shaky.

"Oh y/n, you're the best gift I could ask for."

Bonus: a yandere who only has one thing on his Christmas wishlist - you.

You wake up under his Christmas tree, cold and confused and still groggy from the sleeping pills he slipped you.

Your hands are tied behind your back and there's a cherry red gag in your mouth. You squirm, trying to pull your hands free. The floor is icy against your naked skin. Wait, naked?

You look down, horror clawing it's slow way up your throat. Most of your clothes are gone. And you're almost completely wrapped in ribbon.

Your thighs are held together with an excruciatingly tight bow. Two green rosettes are pinned to the lace of your bra. You can't see it, but there's a cute red bow stuck on your head too.

The door opens and you hear heavy footsteps on the basement stairs. You squirm, increasingly desperate to get loose.

"Wouldcha look at that? Santa brought me exactly what I asked for."

Your kidnapper squats down next to you, his eyes roaming your body. Taking in all the curves and dips. Mapping it out like it's his to explore. He reaches out and tugs at the ribbon tied around your throat.

"My girl all wrapped up under the Christmas tree."

He grabs your chin and tilts your face up towards his. His eyes are dark - the pupils blown out wide with lust, with hunger.

"Merry Christmas baby. I promise it'll be one you never forget.

#Inspired by the many brilliant Christmas asks I received #Yandere Christmas #Yandere Soldier #Yandere sugar daddy #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #Reader insert #Yandere oc #X reader

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customboxesworldsblog · 2 years ago

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w0rm3y · 4 days ago

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BITE ME, BLOW ME- R. Sukuna

TAGS: Bully!Sukuna x Girl Scout!Reader, Enemies to Lovers, Childhood Enemies (but they really just liked each other), Growing Up, Humor, Smut, Sukuna whimpers in this, and Reader is the real bully here lol

WARNINGS: MDNI, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, oral (m!receiving), handjobs, public sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, car sex, creampie, degradation, bullying, porn with plot

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

SUMMARY: You and Sukuna realize your love language is just bullying one another, and choose to not acknowledge your feelings for one another until years later.

|| Masterlist || banner art @/r5x95r13ros on X

The first time you met Sukuna, you were ten and had just opened up your little scouts stand in front of his grandfather’s store, ready to sell cookies to whoever stepped up to your table. Little did you know, your first customer–or so you thought he was a customer–would be a salmon-haired boy around your age, with the deepest scowl you’d ever seen etched right into his mouth. At the time, you were still bright-eyed and innocent to the contempt that passively seeped out of Sukuna, so you weren’t exactly prepared to be under his critical eye right off the bat.

“What is this?” he asked, gesturing to the table between you with disgust.

Smiling, you said, “Cookies. Wanna buy a box?”

“No.” His upper lip twitched at your cheery attitude.

Your smile fell. “Oh. Alright, then-”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence before he stormed off into the store.

The next time you saw him was two days later. Except, this time, his attitude seemed to have worsened.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, stopping in front of your table like he’d done before, regarding your dwindling selection of packaged cookies with a sneer.

“Still selling cookies. I have to-”

“I don’t care, just hurry it up. My grandpa owns this store, and he says you’re driving away business.”

“That’s not true. He likes my cookie stand. He said so.”

“Then he was lying to you.”

Sukuna crossed his arms, and you did the same, mirroring his defensive stance as if it would help your confidence.

“I think you’re lying to me.”

“Pfft, as if I’d waste my time doing that-”

“You’re wasting your time right now by talking to me.”

“I don’t like you being here.”

“I don’t remember asking,” you snapped, squaring your shoulders. “Now buy a box, or hop along.”

After that confrontation, he didn’t bother you for the remainder of the time you were posted in front of his grandfather’s store that year, but that wasn’t the case for the next year, or the year after that.

Each time you were there to sell your cookies, you could bet that Sukuna would make an appearance at least once to rain on your sparkly little parade of cookies and goodwill. It was difficult having to go from being the sweet scout, trying to sell her way to the top of her troop, to having to fend off the irritating remarks of a boy who didn’t even know you. But you managed to do it each time, and each time your troop leader announced you as the top seller of the year, you felt as though you were sticking it to the little boy who liked to bully you.

Eventually, you had risen up a couple of ranks in your troop and were able to sell cookies multiple times a year rather than just once. While you were excited for the opportunity and the challenge of remaining on top, you weren’t so excited to deal with Sukuna–who would no doubt be there to piss you off on day one.

Your theory was proved correct the second you finished meticulously placing your little boxes of cookies on your table–you were convinced the placement and pattern of flavors helped drive up your sales.

Just as you situated the last box of the caramel crunch cookies perfectly beside the lemon crisps, you heard his voice from behind you.

“Back again? You were just here a couple of months ago.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to face your tormentor. “Yep. People do buy cookies all year round.”

“Sure, but why are they buying your cookies? They taste like shit.”

“They must not, if your grandpa keeps asking for me to come back because I’ve helped bring in loyal customers.” You leaned back against your table, not so subtly shifting your sash to show off that it was peppered with scout badges. “Apparently, they ask about me all the time.”

“Yeah, they ask when your ugly mug will stop showing up outside the store. You’re starting to scare the children.”

Your eyes narrowed in his direction. "Bite me."

He snickered at your reaction and ventured closer, eating up the space between you.

“But it’s true. They see your stupid fucking hat and that dumb smile on your face and think ‘god, I’m so glad I don’t have to look at her every day.’ Honestly, they probably only buy your cookies because they feel bad for you. Probably hoping you’re gonna take that money to the doctor’s to fix up your face.”

Raising his hand, he flicked your hat off your head, which angered you far more than it should have.

In fact, it angered you so much that this particular confrontation with Sukuna ended with you pinning him to the ground on his stomach and forcing cookies into his mouth. Your mother ended up having to pry you off his back, which then led to a lengthy scolding from both of your parents–one that ended with you having to apologize to Sukuna.

Contrary to what you or your parents might’ve thought, Sukuna’s grandfather wasn’t upset by the news in the slightest, and even made Sukuna apologize to you afterward. Then, as if that weren’t enough to embarrass both of you, his grandfather went on to make a comment about Sukuna having a crush on you, which only served to have you both recoiling with disgust.

When you saw him again, it was autumn, right after you had just turned fifteen. You were starting your very first day of high school after just calming yourself down from an impending panic attack. You’d heard rumors on the bus rides home from elementary school about the high schoolers and how cruel they could be.

Could high schoolers really be that mean? You’d just come from junior high, where the kids weren’t too terrible. Sure, there was petty girl drama in the bathrooms and boys starting fights with their friends at lunch, but you were able to stay out of it all by keeping your head down. You made friends with the girls, and the boys were too puny to really pick on you anyway. Could so much change with just a year's difference?

Your bus pulled up in front of the high school, jerking forward with its abrupt stop, just in time for one of your fellow freshmen to give out one last piece of advice.

“Apparently, the worst bully of them all is just a grade above us. His name is Sukuna, I think. My older brother said to avoid him if we don’t want to get beaten up.”

Despite the obvious warning in her tone, you felt a sense of ease wash over you. The worst thing here is Sukuna? If that’s the case, this should be easy for you. What’s there to be scared of? It was just last year that you had him pinned on the ground, telling him to say mercy while you shoveled cookies into his mouth.

“I know Sukuna, and he’s not that scary,” you reassured your friend as you both stepped off the bus. “Don’t worry. If we run into him, I’ll handle it. Matter of fact, let’s go find him now!”

Your friend paled. “What? Why?”

“To assert dominance before he gets a chance.”

You were confident, overzealous, and way too cocky for your own good. You had questioned before if so much could change in just a year, and the answer to that was yes, a lot could change.

Of course, you didn’t know that at the time, but you were about to find out. You asked the other students if they’d seen him, and all of them gave you the most incredulous look that almost screamed ‘what are you doing?’, but you didn’t care.

When you finally tracked him down, he was in front of his open locker, stuffing things inside. The looks that everyone gave you as you stomped up beside him only inflated your ego, giving you the confidence to tap him pointedly on the back.

Sukuna’s body stiffened, as if he couldn’t believe someone would poke his back like that without permission. You can assume that’s why the seething glare on his face is what you were graced with when he finally glanced over his shoulder, taking a moment to pull the red sucker out of his mouth to yell at whoever touched him, but once he realized it was you, the glare dropped into a look of absolute disinterest, maybe even a bit of disgust. A groan rumbled out of his throat as he slammed his locker shut.

“What do you want?”

It was only then that you truly understood the change, for this wasn’t the same Sukuna you pinned to the ground a year ago. He towered over you by at least a foot now, and all the baby fat that was stuck to his body spread out to make him look even bigger.

However, what didn’t change was the passive discontent that radiated from him whenever he interacted with you.

But this revelation only had you stunned for a moment before you remembered what you were doing in the first place.

“You’re bigger than I remember,” you commented, disregarding his question.

You caught the corner of his lips twitching, a sign that he was holding back some sort of smirk.

“Yeah? You, too. Should probably lay off the cookies, you’re looking a little pudgy.” He grinned then, seemingly satisfied with his retort, and brought the sucker back to his mouth. His insult didn’t bother you in the slightest. In fact, you were prepared for it. “And look at this; you traded in that fugly hat for a stupid little bow.”

“You don’t like it?” you asked, fixing said bow on top of your head.

“You’d look better with your hair down. Let it cover your face, shield all of us from your ugliness.”

You rolled your eyes at his lame insult and continued, “I was told on the bus ride here that there’s a bully I needed to avoid. They said he’s the scariest guy in school, so imagine my surprise when they said his name was Sukuna.”

“Well, maybe you should listen to them and fuck off before I-”

Before he could finish his threat, you reached up and grabbed the sucker from his mouth. Not giving it any more thought, you tossed it on the ground and stomped on it, shattering the candy into millions of little shards. The entire hallway went absolutely silent as they watched you do it, which gave another boost to the high you were running on.

You grabbed his shirt, bunching it up into your fist, and pushed him back against the lockers. Sukuna, too shocked to even realize what was going on, let you do it. You leaned in, relishing the sight of his wide-eyed stare.

“Since you always come to me first, I decided to repay the favor by seeking you out this time. Let you know what it feels like, and all that.” Your grip on his shirt tightened as you stood on your tiptoes to get as close to his face as possible. “From here on out, don’t talk to me, don’t bother me, don’t even fucking look at me. Not here. Unless you want me to show everyone how weak the big bad bully at school really is. Got it?”

Through a clenched jaw and reddened cheeks, he agreed and grabbed your wrist to pull you off him. You let him go, and when you turned back to your friend, she could only stare at you in amazement, which you took immense pride in. Lacing your arm through hers, you led her toward your first class of the day.

“You’re crazy,” she gushed in astonishment.

“I know,” you chirped, leaning in even closer. “He’s kinda cute though, isn’t he?”

You decided then that you had a crush on him.

Sukuna stayed true to his word; he didn’t bother you, talk to you, or look at you. While at school.

Out of school, however, was a different story. Specifically on the weekends when you were outside his grandfather’s store, selling cookies and other scout items, he was there each and every time, ready to ruin your day–though, eventually, you found that his stopping by didn’t actually ruin your day at all. You were genuinely looking forward to pissing him off with your witty comebacks that he never seemed to be prepared for.

And it was so easy, too. They didn’t require much effort. In actuality, all you needed was a snarky retort to have him shut down and retreat into the store, yet he still came back every single time. Sometimes, multiple times a day if he got a second wind.

Today was one of those days.

“Can’t you go be dumb somewhere else?”

“Nope,” you answered curtly, not even giving him your attention. “Our lovely little town needs these cookies, Sukuna. What would they do without them? More importantly, what would you do without having me here to badger and berate when you feel like it?”

“Probably be bored.”

You snapped your fingers. “Exactly. See? My presence is dual-purpose.”

“Right. You’re here to sell overpriced junk while also making people nauseous with your face.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your grandpa was right when he said you had a crush on me.”

You didn’t miss the warmth that bloomed over his face, even if he tried to hide it behind another insult.

“Please, as if I could ever find someone like you pretty enough to date.”

“Then cool it with the ugly jokes because you’re gonna give people the wrong idea.”

“Then stop being ugly.”

“You first.”

He scoffed, “I am not ugly. Lots of girls think I’m very attractive.”

“Who? And you can’t say your mom or your grandma.”

“Jokes on you. My mom and my grandma are both gone.”

You clicked your tongue, “Bummer. You lost the only two members of your fan club. My heart goes out to you.”

You watched the muscle in his jaw clench over and over before he said, “I hate you.”

“If you hated me, you’d leave me alone.”

“And you’re ugly.”

A grin pulled at the corner of your mouth. “Whatever you say, beautiful.”

“And you’re– wait, what?”

As you imagined, your disguised compliment threw him for a loop once he realized what you’d said.

“Whatever you say, beautiful,” you repeated, chuckling to yourself. If his cheeks were warm before, there was a simmering heat on them now. “Look at you, a total blushing mess. Did you like that, or something?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Am I? Because you look like you’re about to start giggling and kicking your feet. So, who’s really disgusting here?”

“You. It’s always you. You’re so…” he trailed off when you watched you make a jerking off gesture as he spoke.

“Get the fuck away from my cookie stand, Kuna. You’re driving away business,” you lilted sweetly, waving him off.

With nothing more to say, Sukuna did just that. And because you just couldn’t help yourself, you called out to his retreating back, “Look at you, following orders!” In response, all you received was double middle fingers, which was good enough for you. You gave yourself a pat on the back for successfully pissing him off for the day.

The cycle continued until you graduated from your troop and were promoted to one of its leaders. While doing that, you also managed to graduate from high school and start university. You didn’t see much of Sukuna after that. Granted, you were never in places to cross paths, but you thought about him often enough to consider yourself to miss him. Before you knew it, two years went by without seeing him at all, and eventually, you forgot all about him, or so you thought.

When it came time for your troop kiddos to start selling cookies, you suggested taking a few of them to the store you used to sell in front of, with permission from the owner, of course, which is why you were standing at the manager's desk, waiting for one of the employees to return with the owner. When he returned empty-handed and a sheepish grin on his face, you frowned.

“Unfortunately, the owner went home early today.”

“Is there anyone else I could talk to about this? The girls were kinda excited to sell cookies tomorrow. Sorry, I know this is really last-minute.”

The employee shook his head. “No worries, it’s just that uh… the only other person who might be able to help is the owner’s grandson, and he-”

“Sukuna?” you asked, perking up as the memories faded back into your mind. “He’s still here?”

“Yes, but he’s-”

“Where is he?”

“Unloading the truck, but, ma’am-”

“Thanks! I think I can find it!” You brushed off anything else the employee had to say and began making your way toward the back of the store.

Years of spending your time at this very place, you knew your way around pretty well, and since things didn’t seem to have changed too much, you found the loading dock fairly easily. And even easier to find was the giant tattooed man in the bed of the truck, moving around crates of produce. As you ventured closer to the truck, you took the time to appreciate the man that he’d grown into–he’d come a long way from the childish boy you’d once known.

When he saw you approach, he paused, squinting in your direction before the look of realization crossed his face. The crate in his hands dropped into the bed of the truck with a harsh thud before he jumped down in front of you.

“What?” he gruffed, taking the cloth from his back pocket to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

“Hi, Kuna,” you greeted with a smile, one that was not reciprocated. “Your grandpa’s not here.”

“Went home. Said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“I see. Well, I was just stopping by to-”

“To ask if you could sell in front of the store. Yeah, I know. That employee should have told you to fuck off.”

You tilted your head playfully. “Now, why would he tell me that?”

“Because that’s what I told him to tell you. But since you didn’t listen to him, I’ll say it: fuck off.”

You didn’t lose your smile, no matter how badly he wished for you to. Instead, you mused, “That’s not very nice, Kuna. Where’s that sweet boy I remember from before-”

"Blow me," he grumbled, brushing past you to grab the dolly resting beside the truck.

You watched as he wheeled it around to the bed before asking, “Is that what it will take to get you to agree?”

With his back to you, you watched his entire frame stiffen before you heard him chuckle. “You’d suck my dick just to sell mediocre cookies in front of my store?”

“No, I’d suck your dick to let my girls sell mediocre cookies in front of your store,” you cheerfully corrected him, though he didn’t seem impressed when he glanced back at you. “What? They want to win the karaoke machine.”

“So take them to a different store.”

“No can do, it needs to be this one.”

“Yeah?” he countered, grunting when he grabbed one of the heavy crates from the bed to load onto the dolly. “Why’s that?”

“This one is popular, and the staff is so mean that it helps build character. Also, I know you don’t want me here, and that makes me want to be here even more.”

Sukuna snickered to himself after a second of contemplating your offer. The dolly hit the ground, metal clanking as he turned to face you again, rubbing his jaw and looking you up and down before a grin spread over his mouth.

“Sorry, princess, but I’m working right now, so you’ll have to take your little troop somewhere else-”

Your fist curled into his tank top like it did all those years ago, and you pushed him back against the truck. The only difference between then and now was the size difference and his tattoos.

“I’ll be damned if those girls don’t get their karaoke machine because you’re too big of a pussy to let me blow you.”

A glare twisted onto his face as his hand wrapped around your wrist. You knew he could have pried you off of him if he wanted to, but he didn’t.

“What makes you think I’d want your whore mouth around my dick anyway? Your face hasn’t changed, you’re still an ugly little bitch–you couldn’t get me hard, even if you tried.”

“Are you in denial? Or do you just like lying?” you asked, glancing down between your bodies where Sukuna’s very prominent hard-on was poking into your stomach.

“Fuck you.”

“You want to?” You glanced back up at him, giggling when he immediately averted his eyes. “I’ll let you. As long as you promise to let the girls sell outside your store.”

“Christ,” he exhaled incredulously, laughing, “have you always been an easy slut?”

“For you? Yeah.” You leaned in closer while also pulling him down by the grip you still had on his shirt. “But you were too scared of me to notice the giant crush I had on you.”

His eyes flicked to your lips. “You’re lying.”

“Now, why would I lie about that? We’re both adults now, and a school crush is just a silly thing to make up. What? You think I’d lie about it in hopes that we’ll fuck because of it?”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”

“Then let me suck you off. Lemme prove I’m not in it for the free fuck. I mean, unless you wanna…” You trailed off suggestively, which seemed to snap what little control Sukuna had in half.

His hand ripped yours away from his shirt, and with it, he roughly pushed you toward the driver’s side door, which was already open. He turned you to face him, and with his hands on your shoulders, pushed you down onto your knees in front of him. You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped out of you at his insistence.

“For someone who didn’t want head from me, you sure are eager-”

“Shut up,” he snapped, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt.

You raised your hands to help, popping his button and pulling down the zipper as his fingers sifted through your hair until he had a nice hold on it at the roots. You didn’t even have time to pull his boxers down before he was mashing your cheeks over his dick, grinding against it as you looked up at him.

When your mouth spread into an arrogant grin, he scoffed, “Just because I’m letting you do this, doesn’t mean I’ll like you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why don’t you just put your dick in my mouth already before you cum while dryhumping my cheek? Because, I swear to you, I’ll never let you live that down.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers as he grumbled, “I really fucking hate you.”

“Do you?” you asked, taking his cock into your hands, stroking him slowly as you brought him to your mouth. “‘Cause you’re definitely making heart eyes at me right now.”

Rather than responding, he just groaned and forced his dick into your mouth. He didn’t give you much time to allow your throat to relax around his length before he was guiding your head in long, languid strokes.

You were severely out of practice for this sort of thing, and even then, the last time you’d deepthroated someone was your boyfriend from a couple of years ago, whose dick was nowhere near the size of Sukuna’s.

Tears brimmed in your eyes as your gag reflex was triggered, which told your mouth to produce so much drool that it began dripping down your chin with just the first few strokes of him down your throat. It collected on your top, making it stick to your skin in such an uncomfortable way. But, god, it was so worth it to see the expression on his face as he looked down at you, fighting tooth and nail to keep from making a sound.

If you could’ve, you would’ve commented on it just to see the heat bloom over his face again.

His free hand raised to clamp onto the roof of the truck on a particularly deep swallow around his cock, the other forcing your head down until he was sitting balls deep in your throat, pulsing as if he were about to cum. With your hands resting on your thighs to steady yourself, you could feel the slight tremble in them.

“I really didn’t think someone like you could be such a slut…” he whispered to himself, almost in disbelief. “But look at you, taking it down your throat so easily. Had a lot of practice?”

You nodded to the best of your ability, and the movement of your head had his eyelids fluttering ever so slightly. While he seemed content to live in your throat forever, you still needed to breathe. With that in mind, you tapped his thigh, wordlessly telling him to let you go, which he did.

You took him into your fist, pumping him with a steady, consistent grip as you breathlessly added, “Always thought about doing this with you, though. Even with my last boyfriend-” You focused your touch on his tip as you explained, quickening the pace without warning.

“F-Fuck,” he cursed, thrusting into your fist to lessen the overstimulation, but with your hand pressing into his thigh, you stopped him. His head tilted back as he breathed, “Fuck you, that’s t-too much.”

“Is it?” you purred, allowing him to rock his hips into your fist to the best of his ability while you were still holding him back. In a way, it was kinda cute that he couldn’t help himself.

“Such a fucking bitch…”

While it sounded as if he were complaining, he made to point to stop you, not even when the softest whine passed his lips. However, that had been your undoing–you wanted to hear more of that, but this time in your ear.

With him not paying attention to anything other than your hand slicking up and down his cock, you stood to your feet and swiftly traded places with him before it could even register in his mind what you were doing. You pushed him into the truck, much like he’d done with you, except he landed on the weathered leather seat. You unzipped your skirt at the side, allowing it to fall to the dirty ground below you before hopping up into the truck with Sukuna.

He rushed you onto his lap, pulling your panties to the side in the process. But just before you’d sink down on his cock, you needed to know something first.

“You had a crush on me, too, right?”

A deep groan came from the back of his throat. “You wanna talk about that now?”

“Yeah, I do.” You inched down on his dick, just a little bit before pulling yourself off again. “Did you?”

“Fuck–you know I did, you fucking bitch,” he groused, subtly flexing his hips to brush his tip between your pussy.

It was then you decided to put him out of his misery–and yours, too. You wanted this just as bad as he did.

You sank down on him, moaning from the stretch of it, and slowly situated yourself on his lap to allow you time to adjust to the size. Sukuna was apparently feeling a bit generous because he didn’t try to make you move. Instead, he grabbed the hem of your top and forced it up over your breasts, doing the same with your bra until your tits were bare and in his face. But it was that that etched away at his patience.

With his mouth latched onto your nipple, tongue swirling over the bud, his hands moved to your ass, fingertips sinking into the plushness of it to guide your hips until you got the hang of it for yourself.

“Can’t believe… we’re fucking before… our first kiss,” you breathelessly joked.

“There is no first kiss, dumbass,” he panted. “We aren’t together.”

“Yes, we are,” you argued.

“Says who?”

“Me.”

Then, without warning, he grabbed the back of your hair and forced your mouth onto his in a brutal kiss. You moaned into it, then again when you felt his tongue licking against your own. His noises mirrored yours as the rhythm grew too sloppy. Both of you were close, just dancing around the edge. All you needed was a little push-

And then he whined, albeit quietly, but you’d heard it. It was that sound that did you in, and with your orgasm causing your walls to flutter and tighten around him, he found his own, following you over that edge to paint his release deep inside you.

“H-Holy sh–oh, my god,” he whimpered against your mouth, which did tons for your ego, for you had the big bad bully from school rendered to a whiny mess.

To be fair, you weren’t any better, but you were sure it was working on his own ego, too.

When your rocking came to a stop and the only movement left was the rapid rise and fall of your chests as you both worked to gulp down oxygen, Sukuna cursed under his breath.

“Please tell me you’re on birth control.”

You snorted and patted his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have let you cum inside of me if I wasn’t.” He let out a sigh of relief, which made you giggle. “So, the girls can sell in front of the store, right?”

“Good morning, Mr. Sukuna,” the girls from your troop greeted in unison when Sukuna approached the store the next morning. He blinked, a scowl growing deeper and deeper by the second as his eyes landed on you, sitting behind the table with a smile. You subtly nodded toward the group, silently telling him to greet them back, or else.

“Morning,” he grumbled, grumpy as ever, before making his way into the store.

When he was gone, one girl from your troop turned to you with a frown. “Are you sure he’s your boyfriend? He looks really mean.”

“Yeah,” another girl added. “He’s scary.”

You waved her off playfully. “Pfft, Sukuna’s not scary at all. Trust me, he’s a total softie.”

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latenighttalkinqwp · 1 month ago

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Girl I fear for the TikTok series I need the calling Paige your current girlfriend trend asap. You’re sooo good and writing these 🤍

tiktok trends with paige! pt 12

based off of this tiktok trend!

you propped up your phone, holding up a package that you guys were sent. “PAIGE MADISONNNNN” you yelled, knowing she was just down the hall. you could hear her pause the tv, and slowly make her way into the kitchen. she stands beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “whatchu got, ma?” you smile, looking up at her. “wanna unbox these custom shoes with me?” she nods, and you pretend to restart the video.

“okay guys, so i was sent some custom shoes from this really sweet small business. and of course they are wings themed so i have my current girlfriend, paige here to unbox them with me!” you smile, and begin opening the box. paige is nodding along behind you, halfway tuned in to the conversation. you’re still rambling on about the shoes to the video, not realizing how paige is looking at you. “did you call me your current girlfriend?” paige furrows her eyebrows, unwrapping her arms from around you and putting them on her hips. you laugh, looking at her like she’s crazy. “yeah? anyways guys, so here we have paige’s initials with her number. i just love the way she let me completely pick everything about this shoe, which makes it 10 times more special.” you continue speaking, trying not to laugh at the way she was looking at you.

“saying current like there’s gonna be more after is crazy.” she mumbles, rolling her eyes and walking away. you drop the shoes, laughing as you run after her. “no- baby i’m sorry. it was just a prank.” you wrap your arms around her neck, showering her face with kisses. “mmm, sounds about right.”

- thank you so much for reading all the way through! find more of this series on my masterlist! likes and reblogs are appreciated 💘

- sorry for going mia :p life got busy hahaaaaaaaaassas😀

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers head cannons #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #tiktok trends with paige #jazzies anons💝#jazzies asks🥳#jazzies masterlist #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #my mutuals 💜

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designlabpune · 1 month ago

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kappaboxes · 1 year ago

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Custom packaging Boxes!

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cybersunnie · 8 months ago

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knock, knock! who's there?

RAFE CAMERON sets his sights on the baker's granddaughter.

includes fem!baker!reader / reader has a nickname ("honey") / rafe being an unreliable narrator / dialogue heavy / offensive language ("bitch", one fatphobic comment not directed at reader) / wc 984

Every Wednesday, his dad would say, “Rafe, go get the door.” Make yourself useful. And like a dog, he often did as he was told.

This little routine started right after Midsummer. Some sorry excuse of a bakery from the Cut captured Sarah’s attention, and she had been hooked ever since. Rafe didn’t understand why. Not in the slightest. There were more qualified bakeries in Figure Eight that weren’t made from the hands of dirty Pogues. He was sure their dad didn’t understand either, but if Sarah wanted something, Sarah got it. Always.

But holy shit, this grandma was testing his patience. Knock! Knock! She had been knocking non-stop. Was she always this annoying? Rafe scratched his temple, his jaw tight. Knock! Knock! He rolled his eyes.

She sure must be in a hurry. He was surprised the old bitch was still alive, let alone walking. All frail and trembling and one step away from a heart attack.

He hated that that would be his future. If he lived that long, that was.

Knock! Knock! “Yeah, yeah, coming!”

Rafe swung the door open. She was lucky she was an old lady because he would have—

Not an old lady.

No, it was just a lady. The baker's granddaughter, if he wasn't mistaken. He had seen you at the Midsummer, but you were a Pogue working, and he was a Kook celebrating.

His fingers loosened around the doorknob, his gaze locked on your face. For once, the voices were quiet.

You stood on his family’s front porch, holding a box with a clipboard tucked under your arm. The wind picked up, sweeping past you and into his home. A scent of something sweet filled his nostrils. He couldn't tell if it came from the baked goods or you.

With ease, you gave him a practiced smile. “Hey, I've got an order for Sarah. Two chocolate strawberry cupcakes and a half-dozen chocolate matcha cookies. Is she here?”

Rafe stared at you. "Uh, yeah. But you know, I'll pay for it."

He usually did, anyway—not by choice, but because his dad wanted him to.

"Okay, that'll be twenty-five dollars." You extended your hand.

"Twenty-five? It was twenty last week."

You tilted your head, still smiling. He knew how Pogues like you worked. It was a mask to hide your true intentions. "Inflation. Prices have gone up, so we had to adjust."

Skeptical, he looked you up and down. "Inflation, huh?"

You raised your brows. "You don't know what inflation is?"

He scoffed, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He’d much rather deal with your grandma right now—at least she wasn't such a smartass.

Rafe reached for his wallet and grumbled, "I know what inflation is." He handed you the exact change. "You better not be lying, Pogue."

"I'd never lie to a loyal customer's brother," you assured, taking his money and offering the box of baked goods. He didn't believe you for a second. As he grabbed the package, you took out the clipboard from under your arm and faced it to him, clicking the pen. "Sign here, please."

He skimmed over the delivery receipt. “Am I gonna see you ‘round here more often?”

“Maybe. If your sister keeps buying.”

"Can I at least get a name?"

There was a pause. You could hear the birds chirping, and the leaves rustling. Rafe lifted his gaze to meet yours, waiting.

You pulled the clipboard to your chest. "Everyone calls me Honey."

"Honey?" he huffed, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "That's cute," he commented half-heartedly.

You hummed, and he swore he saw your professional composure slip. You looked annoyed—maybe even flustered. As he handed the pen back, his fingers brushed yours, the mere touch electrifying.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Sarah appeared behind him before the words could form, her voice cutting through the air, “And I’ll be taking this, thank you very much!” She snatched the box from his hands and flashed you a smile. “Hey, it’s you. Where’s your grandma?”

Rafe sighed through his nose. He had hoped to have you to himself.

He noticed your shoulders tense. "She's at home. Doing deliveries isn't easy for her nowadays."

No shit. That old bitch was pushing ninety.

He stayed silent.

Sarah nodded, her lips pursed to the side. "Well, tell her Wheezie and I said thank you for the treats."

"Will do.”

He waited for you to meet his gaze, but when you did, he said nothing. Rafe simply watched. You had a pretty face for a Pogue. Soft and delicate, unlike your sharp tongue. What a waste.

Soon, your perfected customer service smile slipped. You turned around, murmuring something about Kooks under your breath as you walked away. He leaned against the doorframe, unable to help but notice the sway of your hips with every step you took.

His sister's voice snapped him back to reality. "What was that about?"

When he looked at her, she was already stuffing her face, a touch of frosting on the tip of her nose. There was a knowing look in her eyes. It pissed him off.

Change the topic. Deflect.

"You're gonna get fat if you keep ordering that shit."

Sarah shrugged. "Whatever." And just to spite him, she took a bigger bite and started walking towards the kitchen. "Wheezie! The cupcakes and cookies are here!"

Rafe ran a hand down his face, eyes finding your retreating form.

Honey. Oh, how had he never noticed you before?

You were always there. Midsummer. The Boneyard. It was too bad you lived in the fucking Cut because that meant you were just like them. Those Pogues—scrappy, uncivil, liars. Not even your pretty face could redeem that part of you. But maybe, just maybe, you were different.

Rafe shut the door softly, his hand lingering on the knob. He just needed to figure you out.

sunnie speaks! i love my baker!reader and how she makes him spiral <3 also, lmk what you guys think because idk how i feel about this LMAO i doubt i'm going to write a part 2, but i'm open to exploring this dynamic!!! let's chat about rafe cameron / baker!reader

if you like my work, consider following @sunniefics to stay up to date on all my future fics!

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #i have such mixed feelings abt this #it just feels rushed??#（ sunnie writes obx! ）#sunnie's rafe cameron #（ 🍪 : baker!reader ）

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