#yes it was criminal minds fanfic

[birdiebats]

Ah I love specifically deciding to stay home instead of go out so I can get stuff done and instead just reading fanfiction and taking a nap

[sailorholly]

Yes, Sir

Summary: Professor Reid has had enough of your attitude in class.

Pairings: Professor Spencer Reid x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Professor - student dynamic. Age gap. Spanking.

See my Masterlist Here

“Do you have to contradict everything I say?” Your professor, Dr. Reid asks you, running his hands through his unruly hair. This had been your favorite class when Professor Blake was here. She was your favorite teacher, more than that, she was like a mother to you. She took you under her wing, spending time with you outside of class to share her infinite wisdom.

You had met Dr Reid before. He was a guest lecturer for Alex many times. You didn’t hate him then. But, he was the reason that she left to take a full time teaching job in Boston. He had gotten shot and nearly died. Something about him reminded her of her own son, Ethan. It was too triggering for her so she left the BAU, and consequently you.

So you took out all your frustration with the situation on him. When he replaced Alex, you decided to make his life hell. Sure, it wasn’t entirely his fault that she left. But you blamed him anyway. You went out of your way to argue with him. Most of the time, you would give a false opinion just for the sake of arguing.

Today, you went too far. He ended class early, sending everyone out, everyone except for you. You were an adult, you shouldn’t be acting this childish, but you couldn’t help it. “You were a huge distraction today. Arguing with me, playing with your hair, wearing outfits you know are inappropriate for school.” You look down at your short skirt and low cut top. He was right, you did know it was inappropriate. But you liked the way he looked at you when you wore it. His brown eyes darkening with every step you took.

“I didn’t realize you found me distracting, Professor.” You lie, taking a step toward him. Spencer’s breath hitches when you stop directly in front of him. “Let me make it up to you.” You place your hand on his slacks, dangerously close to the bulge threatening to burst out of his zipper.

His breath hitches as you drop to your knees. You make quick work of his pants and underwear, letting them pool around his ankles. You wrap your hand around his length. He says your name like a warning. When you swirl your tongue around the head, he forgets any hesitation he might have had.

His large hands tangle in your hair as you take him all the way in, stretching your jaw wide to accommodate him. He fucks your mouth relentlessly, drool pooling out of your open mouth and down his leg.

“Get up.” He commands, letting go of your hair. You stand as he takes in your disheveled appearance. Your hair is a mess from him holding it so tightly. Your shirt rides lower, your skirt is crumpled, appearing shorter. He takes his tie off, bringing your hands together in front of you, he uses it to tie your hands together. Spencer pulls the cups of your bra down, along with your shirt. The cool air in the room makes your nipples harden. He takes a pebbled peak between his lips, tongue swirling.

You reach for him, desperate to touch him. He immediately stops to raise your restrained hands above your head. “You don’t get to touch me, do you understand?” He looks at you sternly waiting for your reply. “Yes, sir.” You answer trying to keep your arms up. He smirks, clearly loving his new moniker.

“Say it again.” “Yes, sir.” You say louder this time. “Good girl.” He spins you around, bending you over his desk. Papers scatter on the floor as you land on the desk. He lifts your skirt, “No panties? Fuck.” He runs a hand through his messy curls. “I think you need to be punished for how you acted today and every day this semester in my class.” His large hand makes contact with your ass as he spanks you. “Count.” He commands, his hand coming down once again.

“Two!” You cry out, loving the way he’s making you feel. Your arousal drips down your legs as he spanks you again. “Three.” You wish your hands weren’t tied so you could hold onto the desk to steady yourself. Smack. “Four!” “Do you think you’ve had enough?” “Yes, sir.” “Hmm, I think you might need one more.” Smack. “Five!” You cry. He stops, looking at his handprint on your ass.

He reaches around you, dipping a finger into you. “You loved that. Didn’t you, my little slut” “Yes, sir.” You smile, turning your head to look at him. His dark eyes are clouded with lust. He swirls a quick circle on your clit before thrusting into you. The sound of his heavy breathing and the desk scooting from his forceful thrusts fill the room.

“You’re taking me so well.” He coos. His words make you clench around him. “God, you’re so tight.” Nothing has felt better than his weight on top of you, his cock dragging deliciously inside you. Spencer’s teeth sink into the sensitive skin on your collar bone as his thrusts grow sloppy. He finishes inside you with a grunt.

He pulls out, lifting you from his desk and turning you around. He loosens his tie from your wrists, kissing them as he frees them. “Are you going to behave in my class from now on?” He asks as you rub your wrists. “Yes, sir.” You beam. “Good girl. If you keep your promise, next time I’ll let you cum.”

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @khxna @im-this-girl

[babymetaldoll]

BFF (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Spencer meets his best friend from school after 12 years apart.  Requested: Yes, a million years ago... sorry for the delay!   Warnings: None. I don't even think I cursed.  Category: Hardcore fluff  A/N: Hey!! I'm still alive!  Masterlist

Spencer Reid knew he had fallen in love. It happened when he was just eight years old and his heart had never beat for another girl again, not the same way after he met her. (Y/N), his neighbor, three doors down the block.  

Never, and he was 24 years old already.

It all started on a random afternoon after school. 

- “You are such a nerd, Reid!”- Spencer heard a boy yelling as he shoved him down to the ground. Reid grabbed his glasses and made sure to keep them safe and in place, even when he was on the ground. The other kid, Lucas, was two years older, and for some other reason, that was nothing but kids being cruel, he had always treated Spencer like scum. And that day wasn’t the exception. 

- “Why are you so mean?”- Spencer whispered as he tried to stand up, but Lucas shoved him back to the ground, mocking him. 

- “Why are you so mean”- and the kid chuckled- “I don’t know, why are you such a baby?”

- “Didn’t your mom tell you you should never hit a kid wearing glasses?”- (Y/N) shouted as she stared at the scene from a safe distance, holding her bike. Spencer turned to look at her and for a moment, he thought what he was feeling was a panic attack. His heart kept beating faster and faster as he stared at the girl in awe.

- “Stay out of this, girl”- Lucas yelled and clenched his fist looking at little (Y/N). But she didn’t seem to be afraid. In fact, she left the bike on the ground and walked a few steps closer. 

- “Why are you calling me “girl” like it’s a bad thing?” 

Spencer looked at her with wide-open eyes. Sixteen years had passed since that day, but he could never forget the way she stood completely fearless in front of a bigger boy, and crossed her arms on her chest, almost daring him to reply. 

- “Why are you defending the nerd? Are you in love with him?”- Lucas teased and shoved the girl. But instead of tumbling or even falling, the girl moved faster and kicked him right in the balls. Lucas yelled and fell on the grass, crying in pain. (Y/N) quickly grabbed her bike and turned to Spencer. 

- “This is when you run!” 

He had never felt his heart skip a beat the way it did that day. He was only eight years old, and it never happened again. 

- “What’s your name?”- the girl asked when they reached her front porch, running away from danger. 

- “Spencer”- he whispered as he tried to catch his breath.

- “I’m (Y/N), do you want some juice?”

And just like that, Spencer Reid had a friend. He followed her into her house and froze when he saw two older kids, around Luca’s age, in the living room watching tv. 

- “Those are my brothers, you can ignore them. I do.”- she explained as she kept walking. 

- “So you finally made a friend or are you forcing the kid to hang out with you?”- one of them asked and the other chuckled. But (Y/N) didn’t reply. She walked straight to the fridge, grabbed two juice boxes and some cookies, and continued her way to the backyard. Spencer followed her closely, climbed to her treehouse with her, and shared a snack. 

That was the first of many afternoons they spent together. In the years to follow, (Y/N) and Spencer became best friends. It didn’t matter that he was already in high school by the time she was in middle school. He always took the time to help her with her homework and tutored her in math and chemistry. And she always got his back. Whenever there was a bully around, an asshole making him miserable, or anyone trying to make fun of Spencer, she was there. Kicking ass. 

Kids in school would make fun of them, telling them she was his bodyguard, his guard dog. Someone even drew them in the gym locker room. Spencer was a bunny and (Y/N) was a wolf. It was supposed to make them mad, but they didn’t care. They had their own bubble, their world. And they loved it there. 

Until Spencer had to go. They were twelve, and Spencer had already graduated from high school. Caltech was waiting for him. 

(Y/N) stood by the car as Diana loaded a few boxes. They had to move to Pasadena, and even though neither of them said a thing about their feelings, it was clearly heartbreaking for the two of them.   

- “You are not gonna cry, are you?”- she joked as Spencer tightened his jaw and cleaned his glasses with his shirt. He didn’t reply, he was in fact, fighting the tears back. 

- “Who is gonna save your ass whenever you are in trouble now?”- (Y/N) asked and punched Spencer’s arm softly- “I should have taught you how to fight. You could have a black belt by now.” 

- “Did you know the best age to start martial arts class with a good balance of discipline and commitment is from eight to twelve-year-old?”- Spencer blurted facts because that was the only thing that made him feel safe. 

- “Well, make sure you take a self-defense course in Caltech or whatever. Don’t let anyone kick your ass”- she added and he friend just nodded. They stared in silence for a moment, until Diana called her son, ready to go. 

- “So… see you around?”- (Y/N) simply said and Spencer nodded. 

- “Can I write to you?”

- “Sure! can I send you my homework, so you can do it for me?”- both of them chuckled. Spencer wanted to hug her, but even after all those years, he still didn’t feel comfortable enough to do it. So he just waved, and she waved back, and before he could comprehend what was happening, he was in a car with his mom, driving from his home to a new destination.     

- “I’m gonna miss you.”- (Y/N) whipped off the tears from her eyes as she stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring at the car. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just tell her best friend those words instead of making fun of him, but she figured she didn’t want him to think she was weak. He made her feel that way. Weak. Soft. Giddy. Nervous. 

She had a crush on him, obviously. No wonder why she had spent over four years defending him from every bully in school. She never told him, though. She felt so stupid, so silly, and so freaking girly, she couldn’t stand it. So she locked her feelings, hid them underneath thousand sarcastic, witty comments    

- “Bye, (Y/N)”- Spencer whispered, staring at her through the rearview mirror, as tears kept falling from his eyes. He knew his heart was breaking, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Skip twelve years, and Spencer still cherished every letter he had shared with (Y/N). They had long stopped writing to each other, but he always wanted to find her again. He missed her, like a part of his life that had been ripped from his chest, from his fingers. From his heart. But life was now filled with chaos. He worked at the BAU, he chased serial killers for a living. He didn’t have time for his personal life. He only had time for work. 

- “Local police department asked us to assist on a case”- Hotch announced early that morning at the briefing meeting of the team. Spencer looked at the Unit Chief and nodded, taking notes on the case they had to help with. They had worked with the local police a bunch of times, and so far it had been a good experience. 

- “I heard there is a new Sergeant in that department.”- Morgan comments as he drove with Spencer to the city police office - “As far as I know, she is very young but severe. Some of the officials said they were scared of her.” 

- “Most men are threatened by female bosses.”- Spencer replied, reading the case file for the fifth time during the trip. He didn’t take his eyes off the paper as he added - “A study indicates that women in positions of authority meet with more resistance in their interactions with male employees because those men perceive female bosses as a threat to their masculinity.”

- “And how would you deal with a female boss? Can you picture a woman as Unit Chief?”- Derek was just teasing his friend, mostly ‘cos he was bored.  

- “I don’t feel threatened by women.”- Spencer nearly stuttered as he replied, which made his words considerably unbelievable. 

- “Yeah, that’s not what I remember from the last time you talked with a woman.”- Morgan just chuckled and shook his head. 

- “Shut up.” 

Hotch, Gideon, Elle, Morgan, and Spencer walked into the police station. The Unit Chief and Gideon headed straight to the chief’s office, and the rest of the team waited in the bullpen. Most of the officers were there, doing paperwork, nothing out of the ordinary. Until one voice captured Spencer’s attention. 

- “How many times do I have to tell you, Smith? You can’t make that kind of desitions on your own? What if someone got hurt again?”- (Y/N) was scolding a young official, who glued his eyes to the floor, embarrassed. - “Now go before you get another suspension.” 

- “(Y/N)?”- Spencer whispered and turned to her. He was beyond shocked, not even in his wildest dreams he thought he would see her again. 

- “It’s Sergeant (Y/L/N).”- (Y/N) corrected and looked at the young agent. And for a moment, she forgot where she was. She opened her mouth, but not even one word came from her lips. There he was, her first love, looking cuter than ever. 

- “Hi.”- Reid mumbled and waved. She stood in the middle of the police office and simply stared at him in silence. 

No one understood what was going on. Morgan looked at Elle, who just shrugged. Everybody at that office was confused. The officials had never seen their Sergeant being emotional, and it was clear she was having a moment, right there in front of everybody.  

Suddenly, (Y/N) took a step closer to Reid, and then another, until she stood right in front of him and wrapped his arms around his neck. He moved immediately and hugged her tight. That was the very first time they hugged. 

- “Are you really here?”- she whispered and giggled, moving from him and staring t him with a big smile - “Is it really you, Spencer Walter Reid?”

- “Walter?”- Elle tried not to laugh and looked at Morgan, who seemed to be trying not to laugh as well. 

- “When did you move to DC?”- Spencer asked, staring at his best friend, neither of them moving from each other’s embrace. 

- “Last month! How long have you been here?”

- “Two years. I lost track of you after Caltech. I missed you.”- Spencer confessed right away, and (Y/N) nodded. 

- “Me too… and what are you doing here?” 

- “The team was called to collaborate on a case.” 

- “You are with the FBI?”- (Y/N) wide opened her eyes, surprised- “Look at you, Smarty.” 

- “Reid.”- Hotch interrupted their reunion and took them back to reality in a second. (Y/N) let Spencer go immediately and stood straight. 

- “Nice to meet you. Seargent (Y/L/N).”- (Y/N) extended her hand to Hotch, who shook it right away.- “The Chief told us you were coming to help with the case. Thank you for your time.”

- “(Y/N) is my best friend from school.”- Spencer explained to Hotch, and the team because they were all carefully listening. 

- “Nice to meet you. I was just talking with the Chief, we are meeting at the briefing room now.” 

Both (Y/N) and Spencer nodded and started walking, following the team. They had to make a major effort to focus on work. Neither of them could take their eyes off each other. Spencer kept smiling the whole time and looking at his best friend in adoration. Meanwhile, (Y/N) tried her best to remain calm. She felt exactly as she did when she was twelve. Her defense was down, Spencer made her feel weak and in love. Who knew first crushes could last that long? 

By the end of the day, a team of police officials plus Morgan, Elle, and Hotch had gone after the unsub. Spencer, and (Y/N) remained at the station, along with the Chief and Gideon. 

- “I still can’t believe you are here.”- Spencer whispered and looked at (Y/N), as the two of them stood in the middle of the kitchenette, getting another cup of coffee. 

- “Me neither.” 

- “I have so much to tell you. How are your brothers?” 

- “Married and with kids. I still can’t believe they are responsible grown-ups.” 

- “I might need proof to believe that as well.”- Reid smiled and (Y/N) chuckled at his words- “My mom still remembers you.” 

- “How is she? I miss her classes and her reading sessions.”- Spencer opened his mouth to reply, but Gideon interrupted him. 

- “They got him, we are ready to go.”- Reid nodded and turned to (Y/N), who sighed and cut him a short smile. 

- “At what time does your shift end?”- the young agent asked her.

- “Two and a half hours ago, yours?”- she replied with a soft chuckle. 

- “I think I am free now… do you want a better quality coffee?”- both of them smiled and looked at the mugs. 

- “And maybe something to eat. I’m starving.” 

- “Are you still a fan of Mexican food?”- Spencer asked and (Y/N) could barely hide the blush on her cheeks.

- “You still remember that?”

- “I remember everything.”

Reid and (Y/N) walked around after dinner. They had spent their time catching up with everything they had done since the last letter they had shared. He told her about college, his master's degrees, and PhDs. She told him about how she became a sergeant at such young age, and how she ended up in Washington DC. 

They walked arm in arm under the starry sky, like time hadn’t passed by. They talked about everything they might think of. But there was one question Spencer needed to ask her before the night was finished.  

- “I sent you so many letters after Caltech, but they all came back. They said “Not at this address”. Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?” 

And that was the one question (Y/N) wasn’t longing to reply. 

- “You were my best friend. My only friend and you disappeared. Why?”- Spencer stopped walking and looked at (Y/N). She sighed and bit her lips, trying to find the right words to explain her truth. It was hard, and she had tried her best to avoid it for too long. But if life had put Spencer back in her path, she couldn’t escape anymore. 

- “I’m sorry I hurt you, Spencer.”- she whispered and took a few seconds before she added - “That wasn’t my intention.” 

- “Then why did you disappear?” 

- “I needed some distance”- she tried to explain, but Spencer frowned. 

- “You and your family had moved to New York, I was in Los Angeles. We hadn’t seen each other in years. That wasn’t enough distance to you?”- (Y/N) had never heard Spencer raise his voice, but to be fair, they hadn’t talked about their feelings ever before. 

- “I needed to get over you!”- she murmured and bit her lips one more time, obviously nervous about his reaction. She was trying to be honest. - “I couldn’t continue in love with my best friend forever. I had to move on! I was already eighteen and I never even had a date, ‘cos I was waiting for you.” 

Spencer stared at her in shock. Of all the answers he thought he might get, that was not the one he imagined. He thought she was bored of him and grew tired of his letters. That she had more interesting things to do with her life than talking with a pen pal. 

(Y/N) sighed, relieved to take that from her chest, but scared of Spencer’s answer. She stared at him for a few seconds, but he didn’t react. So, she continued walking and slowly left him behind. 

Spencer tried to connect all that info, but he couldn’t believe it. He stared at her back as she walked and called out her name, jogging. 

- “(Y/N), wait.” 

- “No Spencer, it’s ok. You don’t have to say anything. I’m sorry I was so immature and hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t… I am so sorry.”- she blurted out and kept looking at her feet as she spoke. 

- “Don’t be.”- the young SSA whispered and held her hands. She raised his eyes and stared into his. She could still see the same sweet kid she had met at eight years old. - “I am sorry I never told you how I felt either. I was just so scared to lose you, and I lost you anyway.”

The two of them stayed in silence, processing what had just happened. Neither of them moved. Neither of them knew what to say next. So they just stood in silence for a few minutes, Spencer kept holding her hands the entire time, slowly and carefully caressing her fingers. 

- “So… what now?”- she finally whispered and Spencer sighed. 

- “Would… you… like… going out on a date with me?”- he asked and (Y/N) was unable to control the smile on her face. 

- “Are you serious? What did we just have? Dinner and ice cream count as a date.”- she teased him and Spencer blushed immediately.  

- “Ok, would you like to go on another date with me?” 

- “I would love to.”- she replied and started walking again, this time hand in hand with Spencer. He chuckled and stared at her from time to time. 

- “What is it?”- (Y/N) asked, knowing he was looking at her. Spencer chucked again and stopped walking. 

- “If this was a date…”- but he couldn’t finish his question, ‘cos (Y/N) held his face with both hands and kissed him. It was short and childish, and both of them seemed shocked after they parted. 

- “... I was wondering if I could walk you home?”- Spencer finished asking, and (Y/N) closed her eyes embarrassed, and even held her breath. 

- “Sorry… I thought you were….”- but this time, she couldn’t finish talking ‘cos Spencer held her face and kissed her. But that kiss was neither short nor childish. It was sweet and slow. Spencer kept rubbing his lips against hers, making her feel the entire world had stopped spinning. 

- “Sorry… I couldn’t help myself.”- he whispered as he moved his lips from hers, still cupping her cheeks with both hands. 

- “It’s ok.”- she managed to murmur as she giggled. - “I wanted to kiss you since we were twelve years old.” 

- “Me too.”- he confessed and looked at her blushy cheeks, knowing he looked the same.

- “So, are you gonna walk me home?”- (Y/N) asked and felt Spencer hold her hand as they started walking again. He intertwined his fingers with her and turned to her for a second as they started talking again. He knew this time he wasn’t going to let her go.  

Taglist General @spenxerslut @ash19871962 @muffin-cup @cynbx @meowiemari

Taglist Spencer @calm-and-doctor @malboroniights @lovejules888

[buddiesronance]

clicking off a spencer fic as soon as i see “mentions of maeve” 🥰

[samssoulll]

Medium Joel and FBI agent Etho AU I'm working on! Here's what I'm thinking the summary will be:

"They talk to me."

“Who…?”

“The dead people.” Joel admits, barely above a whisper, as if he’s afraid the wrong person will hear it. There’s no one else in the room though. Just him and a special agent.

“The dead people talk to you?” Etho repeats, and he sounds doubtful, almost judging.

He thinks it’s a joke.

“Yeah, they-” Joel swallows, “They come to me with their unfinished business. Like justice, or revenge. I- I know this sounds crazy but you need to believe me-”

Or,

Joel is a medium who's sick of ghosts constantly pestering him, and Etho is a federal agent. They both want to solve a murder case for completely different reasons.

[reallyneedsalife]

"there's no platonic explanation for this" is coward talk

let people love each other in new ways, let characters love each other in news ways.

putting your life on the line for someone doesn't mean you're romantically in love with them, that's feeble at best. sure, maybe they're locking lips, but until it's canon and happens on screen they're best friends in my heart.

[cecedownbad]

Hold On

Summary: A missing child's case resurfaced so many memories you wished to keep buried. Sure enough, seeking comfort from the heavy feelings came by as a form of a person. [Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader] Part 2.

Warning: Child abduction, death of a child, angst, no Y/N, made up last name: Cyrus, made up case, light fluff, hurt/ comfort, not too romance-y but alluding to it, not proof read, I don't think the mystery/crime aspect is good but let me hear thoughts guys. Something extra in tags, read after the story.

Word Count: 4.1k

Part 1

I'm so sorry this took so long, my exams, mental health, projects, assignments allll just rolled in the past months, and I've been doing everything to stay on top of writing. It's rushed towards the end but with all that's going on I hope it's okay. If anyone is up for part 3, I'm all for it .

Enjoy

"Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it."

-George Santayana

'Okay, let's see, Conrad Miller, 16 years old, went missing on June 12th, 2007. Last seen by the local church with one of the volunteers, she was questioned once but was never linked as she had a solid alibi, her name was Grace Cyrus.' Tara paused. 'So she took Conrad, no she definitely didn't just take him, poor kid is definitely not okay.'

'Right now Stephen is our priority, the anniversary of Steven's disappearance is in 4 days, so what does she want with him now?' You pace in the room, spinning a pen you grabbed in your hand. 'I think that's something only you can answer, what happened 4 days prior to Steven's disappearance?' Tara pondered, she sat down, looking at you, intent on finding answers. '4 days prior…that was the day my dad— Daniel had come to visit, they, Grace and him got into a fight and Stevie, Steven tried to "protect" Daniel in his own way, he thought Mom was going to hurt him…'

Was it then that this all weighed down on you? Words long lost had started pouring through the cracks of memories locked away. You were never in that station in that moment, no, now you were back there.

'Stevie, get back here! We can't stop them!'

'No! No let go! I don't want Dad to go, Mom's going to send him away!'

'Steven!'

No matter how hard you tried, he slipped from your tensed grasp, landing right between two enraged adults.

Pacing the floor helped gather your thoughts, a little better.

'What was the very last thing she said to you when you left?'

The thought of how it all ended passed through your minds, each time much like a bullet to the brain but you push it all down, now wasn't the right time for you. 'everything okay there?' Tara asked you, it's only been a few minutes since you and Tara confronted the idea that Grace might have done more than anyone could have put together.

'Yeah just a lot going on in my head, I think I need a breather.'

'Hold that thought, JJ and Luke are back with Daniel,'

Your hand now wrapped around the empty coffee mug, a dad you haven't spoken to for the last two decades, what would you have to say? or better yet, what would he say to you? This isn't an official reunion, it's an interrogation and who knows what will spill out of your mouth if you see the very first man in your life that disappointed you, taught you that having a person in your life was enough to make you fall apart.

'JJ and I will go in first, you sit tight.' Tara patted your shoulder giving it a good squeeze before heading out the conference room.

It was soon after that Rossi, Reid and Emily came back in, all three harnessing disappointment with their stride. 'Hey, what happened?'

'Well, Rosa was not in her home, we searched the house and by the looks of it, she hardly came back there.' Emily sat down with her legs crossed. 'but, her room had keepsakes, maybe from the time you lived with her?'

'What did she have?'

'She had pictures, some old folded drawings, and the weirdest one, an old juice box.' as Emily finished, you sat up from your chair, 'an old juice box? Do you remember what flavour?'

'I think it was Apple? Why? Does it have something to do with Steven?'

'…'

'Cyrus?'

'That, uh, it's nothing, I think sentimental feelings do surface no matter what kind of person you are.' You began fidgeting with your sleeves, your mind now slowly began recalling events that transpired long ago. 'Is there something else? It looks like you aren't sure about something.' Rossi eyed your movements, he knew something was keeping you. 'My mother, she'd never show any sign that she felt remorse, not even as far as I could remember.'

'Okay Reid, stay with her, I'm going to check in with JJ and the rest. Rossi? Do you mind?' soon after, Rossi and Emily exited the room, leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. 'Could you tell me what kind of person your mother is?' Spencer sat down right before you, urging you to take a seat right next to him and you did.

'She was an uptight woman, she loved to be in control of her life that meant being in control of mine too, it's why I left. She loved being seen.'

'Being seen? What do you mean?'

'She was always a respected figure no matter where she went, be it at work or in the neighborhood, she pushed for that at home too. When Steven had disappeared, I would always remember how she would tell me he was in a better place, and that if I do anything to disobey her or question her authority, I would be punished.' your head hung as you remembered more, 'I would study, day and night, that was the only life I knew, if my grades dropped by a mark, she'd lock me in my room, made sure I only had books on my desk.'

'Did Daniel ever drop by after what happened to Steven?' Spencer asked gently, 'No, I never saw him after that, I thought he finally got sick of mom and left, but I see now that wasn't the case.'

'Okay—'

'You know the one thing I can't seem to remember though?' you looked up at Spencer, his eyebrows now furrowed in question. 'My mother would always say how beautiful I am, and…and that I look just like her, her very own reflection but, Spencer, I can't…I can't remember her face.' your voice sounded shattered at what came out of it. You felt the tears fall, but you couldn't turn away or hide them, Spencer saw just how much this hurts you.

'You are your own person, no one can ever take that from you, no matter what, you are you.' He held your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of your palm, that gave you a sign of comfort and you smiled at him. 'Alright, let's get back to the case.' quickly wiping away your tears and pasting on a smile, which you flash at Spencer, he in turn regained a more unmoving figure. 'When you said Rosa knew that Steven would never come back, what did you mean?'

'I was only a kid but to me it felt like she already knew that Steven had maybe...and all I could remember was a frown anytime I even remotely related to Steven.' You return with an answer. It was then the phone on the table went off.

'What is it Garcia?'

'So I dug into Daniel a bit more, and you aren't going to like this, so he was actually never in Bakersfield until a week ago, before that he was working as a cab driver in Nevada. He was in Nevada for a long time, but he touched base sometime in 2007, in the month of June. Looks like he tried several times to contact his ex wife but she never entertained any of it. What is concerning is that he was reported of stalking a young boy, said he mistook the boy for a boy he knew and he meant no harm but he was fired from his workplace and when was that? A little before coming over to Bakersfield.' Once Garcia had informed both of you, it was then JJ, Emily and Luke walked back in.

'What did the boy look like?' Spencer asked, 'I sent his picture to your phone.'

'Thank you Garcia.' You picked up your cell and scrolled through to find the image.

'No problemo.'

Upon quick inspection, you could tell at a glance the young boy and Steven shared a few similarities, nothing too obvious except hair colour and facial structure, age is the more obvious factor.

JJ walked in, arms crossed, she sighed but began asking what Garcia checked in for, 'Looks like Daniel was fired from his work place prior to coming to Bakersfield a week before Stephen's abduction.' You informed the three.

'If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's a trigger for him.' Emily began, 'Yeah, I agree.' and Luke followed suit.

'So he not only gets rejected by his ex-wife, but fired from his work place for stalking a boy that looks like his son, then he goes and kidnaps a boy that Rosa seemingly dotes on? Something doesn't add up.' JJ looked on with confusion. 'How did it go with him?' you asked finally.

'Said he had something vital for the case but he would only discuss it with you.' Emily sat down, her voice already etching with exhaustion. 'He's hiding something and my gut is saying it can't be good.'

'I'll go talk to him.' You were close to leaving the room, but Emily had halted your motions.

'Wait,'

'Yeah?'

'Reid will go with you, Tara might want to step out.' You gave a quick nod to Emily's order.

Every step to the interrogation room, you could hear the pained voices of yours, more precisely, from when you were a child. A young girl, alone in a room with nothing but her thoughts, you swallowed hard as you stood by the entrance of the viewing room. When you entered, you let Spencer call Tara from the interrogation room to the viewing room. 'No matter what, don't give in to his requests, you need to break him down, and if you ever want to leave, you can.' Tara gave you a small nudge and she stayed back in the room.

This was it, you let Spencer lead you into the interrogation room, allowing him to get there before you creeped on behind.

'How many times do I need to tell you people? Can't you bring my daug—you, your—'

'Let me be very clear, you have something vital for this case and I'm willing to hear you out, but say or do anything and you will be escorted out of the door by agents, understood?' the firm voice you let out hid every sorry cry that was wailing in you, having not seen your father for 20 years was a shock but not something that should be seen. 'Look at you, what it's been 15, 20 years, oh my beautiful little angel, I missed you.' honey coated words slipped from his mouth and every cell in you twisted in anger and contempt, 'Mr. Carter, the case.' Spencer stepped in this time.

'Always in such a hurry, well, since you brought my little girl. I know where the kid is being held.' He sat there with no remorse, no care that a child, close to the age of the son he lost years ago, was missing.

'Where might that be?'

'I can take you there, but I'll only go if she goes with me.'

After so long, he cares or at least that's what he's showing but you knew what he was playing at, he thought he could get away light just because his flesh and blood was in the justice system, what a sorry bastard.

'I think we're done here.' Spencer had got up from his chair but you stayed seated, deal or not you wanted to break the man in front of you and that was what was nailing you down to your chair. 'Mr. Carter, what good will it do if I went with you? Was it not enough that you came in here demanding to see your daughter about a case I know damn well you don't care about?' you pressed, choice of words were clearly targeted but your composure remained cool. 'What do you mean, you know what happened to Stevi—'

'Your son that you never bothered to report missing? I don't believe you have a right to bring that up, Sir.'

'Now listen here—'

'In the time Rosa had left you behind, you did nothing but fail to bring yourself together, I have a question for you, what were you doing on June 12th, 2007? Why did you come back to Bakersfield prior to that date?' you swiped through the tablet that Tara handed to you, it contained everything Garcia had found including some case files. 'I don't know why you're asking me that, don't you have the life of a boy to save?' He avoided it with such harshness, you only wanted to pry further but somehow it felt like you knew the answer, but the words never fell into place.

'Answer the question Daniel.' Spencer sat back down now jabbing at him as well. 'I just had someone to meet, is that really so important?'

'Why did you need to meet them? Did you coming back here have anything to do with Rosa Cyrus, your ex-wife?' Your slowly tapped at the desk, it was a timed beat. 'I did visit her once but that—'

'Were you aware that a teenager was reported missing around the same time you arrived here? His name was Conrad Miller, he was 16 years old.'

'W-what? I-I don't know anything about that.'

'Really? Because it says in the case files that Rosa was the last person to have seen Conrad, but you knew that didn't you?' He flinched at the response, at this point he wore a sign that screamed suspicious.

It was then that Daniel remained silent, you believed that any word that came out of him at that point would dig his grave deeper.

You stepped out of the room and walked into the room behind the mirror. 'Now he won't speak,' Rossi now stood there with his arms in his pocket.

'We need to find Rosa and Stephen soon, the man is hiding something and Rosa is the key to finding out why.' Rossi took the words right out of your mouth, looks you both knew what he was playing at.

'I think I can help with that, how much can you guys bet on a gut feeling?' You asked the three of them, weary of their answer, 'At this point? I'll take it.' Rossi let out, the two soon followed. 'Rosa will most likely be at the house we used to live in, which is not in this area, I'm hoping that she's keeping Stephen safe,'

'Safe? How come?' Tara asked you, 'Daniel here, came a week prior to Stephen's abduction, not only did he lose his job before coming here, he needed to have a reason to come here,' you deduce.

'His reason being Rosa? But wouldn't that not trigger Rosa?' Looks like you still needed to elaborate your theory, so you continued. 'It did, Rosa having heard that Daniel came here must have caused her protective instinct to kick in, call me crazy, but I think Rosa is keeping Stephen away from Daniel.' you finally let out a sigh, your palms clammed from sweat but if you were right, the little boy you came here for was safe.

'A mother's protective instinct, I'm guessing that something happened 20 years ago that she didn't agree on, which caused her to completely reject this guy, I'll have Garcia send the address of her prior location.' Rossi curtly exited the room, Tara followed along.

Spencer stood before you in silence, you didn't register any movement from him because all your focus was on the man, sitting on the other side of that glass.

'You can go on ahead, Reid, I need to talk to him.' 

'But I can't let you go in alone...'

You huffed, your eyes did what it could but meet his but looking away won't make what you want go away, 'Given the chance, I might punch the daylights out of him—'

'More of a reason for me to stay.' 

Spencer interrupted, you returned with a sharp look in your eyes before you relaxed, 'Let me finish, I would want to give him a piece of my mind but I need to know, I just, he's the only one that has got to know something about Steven, maybe I can finally put him to rest.' 

It was selfish, that's what you called it, asking for just one more clue when you couldn't do anything before. Maybe now that helpless little girl all those years ago, can see her brother off. 'I need to do this, alone...'

'...' 

You stood there, waiting for something, a sound from him in response, anything at all. 'I'll wait here, being short of another agent will not slow down the rest of the team.' He'd finished but his response ticked you, it poked at the idea of a child being monitored by their parents.

'I don't need you watching my every move, Reid.'

'I'm just following orders.'

'Following orders? Do I look like a child to you? Do I need a leash around my neck too? I can handle him, he's one man!' Your voice raised, and you stared up at your fellow colleague with a ray of contempt.

'A man you can't stand being around for long, you sounded just fine in there earlier to anyone that watched, but do you want to know what I saw? I saw that you were holding back, hard enough your hands curled at his answers, your feet apart was enough for me to know that you would have given Emily a reason for you to be dismissed from the case.' He'd stated what was right, but it wasn't right to you, not right now, you don't know when it would be. 'I'll wait here, you can go in alone.'

Your feet put you in place for a good moment, his words tore right through you. He was right, somewhere in your clouded judgement, you understood he was right, but just because you understood doesn't mean you accepted it.

With a second left to pass, you turned from Spencer. All in silence, it was accepted that you had a job to uphold, no matter the personal toll.

-------------------------------

The dial ups in the station, voices of police officers, movement all around you had become void. Nothing, that's what you heard when you left the interrogation room, you couldn't even hear one Agent calling out to you when you had left. Something gathered, something rotten had formed in your stomach. Your body felt hot, your head on a swivel.

You felt the acid burn at your throat, the half conscious part of you managed to drag your feet to a bathroom stall for you to expel the choux pastry you ingested.

Standing before the mirror now, you washed your mouth, feeling the remnants of the expelled food at your throat.

Nothing felt right to you, not right then, not right now. Having no mind to lose any more time, Reid waited in the conference room as you begrudgingly walked yourself back into it. You said nothing.

You dialed in Emily immediately, hoping she hadn't reached the house yet. 'What have you got for me Cyrus?' 

'I spoke to Daniel.'

'What did he say?'

'He'd been sending frequent messages and calling my mother, they met once, 2007. There was an argument and Conrad had gotten in-between the two of them, it didn't end well.' you informed her, almost mechanically.

'What did he say about Steven?' JJ chimed in.

'Steven was, he said he was never meant to be hurt and Rosa in the mess of things, covered up for him. He told me where...I know where his body is.' Your voice strained, as it got to harsher details.

Nothing came out though, you tried filling in the rest of the details but your voice was overtaken. A pleading look carried over to Spencer and he took over. 'He said that you have to ask where he's sleeping, Rosa's delusion right at this moment is that Steven would come back.'

'Okay, we'll get back to you as soon as we're done here.' The line cut. If you'd carried a boulder on your shoulders, the weight of it might be the same as your conscience. All that was left was you see a family reunited and you get the closure you've been searching for.

------------------------------

The team was back, so was the little boy, he was safe. The Turner family could now go home with their son safe and sound in their grasp.

'Nothing beats seeing that.' you stood, satisfied in a way, the others agreed in unison to your words.

'Cyrus, I need to have a word with you.' Emily called you to a secluded corner of the station, but you had no fear built in you, in fact you felt rather empty, exhausted enough to be emotionally drained. 'We found Steven...' she said quietly.

'Where was he?' you met her in the eyes, having nothing left to tie you down. 'Remains were found in the wall of a small bedroom, it looked like he was initially buried but moved there later.' Every word had struck you, the smaller bedroom was your shared one, no doubt. 'Was he, uh, covered?' a crack sounded in your voice.

It took Emily a moment before answering, 'He was...' 

The last bit of remorse. You'd promised yourself for 20 years that he was found. Part of you wanted him to be alive, maybe he ran off and just found a better life or he was on the streets, alive at least. But you knew how far-fetched that sounded, hope was the one thing you were aware that could end you. '...Thank you, can I, um, I want to be alone.'

'Of course, take all the time you need, listen, once this is over I need to speak with you, but only when you're ready, okay?' She patted the side of your shoulders, adhering to your request, she left you alone.

You let out a wavered breath, trying to breathe in and out to calm yourself. What you needed now was to mourn, you knew that but having a hard cry at this moment would slow down everyone.

Not long after, Rosa and Daniel had gotten arrested. You couldn't catch a glimpse at her face, or more accurately, you refused to see the face you'd forgotten. That didn't bother you that much, as a mother she never cared to look out for you, there wasn't any good reason to remain adherent to the details.

Bakersfield PD would have no more reason to have you stay, for now at least but before you could leave it all behind, Steven deserved a proper burial.

The Funeral was small, no relatives, just few friends from school and the BAU were attending, with Chief Marks as well to pay respects.

You stood over the coffin, looking at how small it was, how it all came to an end, all in silence. Quietly you watched as the coffin was buried, soil tossed over it but before it was over, you had to have one last goodbye.

'I did what I promised, took you long enough to come back from playing, huh? You must be tired, rest well, Stevie.' The Carnation held in your hand had been placed on the coffin, a mark of innocence now put to rest. Once it was all over, you stood, not waiting or expecting anything but just, letting the weight gradually let go of you. This was what you needed yet, it didn't feel enough, something remained in you. 

Footsteps were heard behind you, and you took a peak at the intruder before lifting the corners of your mouth to him. 'He was a handful you know, always wanted my attention no matter what, saying that one day he'd make it to the moon just so he could get me some space rock.' Spencer said nothing to your bouts of reminiscence, 'He told me once, "I'm going to be no.1, so watch me!" I thought he was being silly, Dad left right after and we were alone, it was us against the world.' It all came back, then you knew what you hadn't let go, knew what it was that made you feel utterly at loss. 

'Hey, Spencer, you don't have to do this, but, um, I...' You wanted to ask just for a bit, that little comfort that you so desperately pushed away.

Without another word, he lightly turned to face you. Your mind was too caught up on other memories that when you felt his arms wrap around you, you didn't think for that second. All it took was this to let it all go, no longer in silence but in wailing agony.

He didn't need another word, he simply knew. It was like some crazed superpower of his but it's like he's always known.

He couldn't let go.

Tagging:

@treehouse-mouse

[reiderwriter]

Congratulations Kacie!! <3 may I send a request for the musical game? :"> NSFW 🦢

Send me an emoji and a rating, and I'll write you a short song-inspired blurb for my 3k follower celebration

18+ minors dni

You welcomed him back into your bed as easily as you'd done the first time. It had been five years. You knew the man had changed, but his tongue surely hadn't.

"Fuck, Spencer. Stop, stop, stop, I need you inside me." His hair was longer again, his fave was lined with an attractive stubble that tickled you so gently down there, face dripping with your arousal as you pulled him up and off your cunt.

Prison hadn't been easy for Spencer Reid. You knew as much when he showed up on your doorstep after so long away. He needed this familiarity, to taste you again after so long away, and convince himself everything was the same as it had been.

"I need you inside me, please." He said nothing but nodded, thrusting his tongue into your mouth as he slid his body up into position. His grip was firmer than before, stronger somehow or just more desperate. He'd been a gentle lover before, loving nothing more than spending time with his head buried between your legs, sometimes even spilling his load before he could enter you. He liked it when you were in control before.

Despite him listening to your many pleas, you knew it would be different now. He spread your legs for you until you were again bared to him, held you down, and with one quick shift of his hips was buried inside you again.

He was in charge now, and it was so familiar but so new, and you moaned in pleasure, giving yourself over to him as you silently thanked the gods for sending him back to you.

[em-prentiss]

It’s so frustrating when you want to write a flashback scene in italics but then there’s a certain word that has to be italicized for emphasis but you can’t do it shwkanqkabaj. And making it bold just gives me the ick idk😭 so I have to either keep that one word un-italicized—which doesn’t give nearly the same effect—or I have to come up with a date for the flashback (which I do not have the brain power to do🗿) to keep the whole text un-italicized, but using italics for flashbacks is so much more seamless.

[sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy]

When you find a character in a peice of media and are just like "aw, yes. I would fight god and the writers for this character"

Then the writers have the audacity to give them a shitty go of life and it's just like, fuck you. I'm filing for joint custody of OUR character and I'm going to write fanfic where they get the best and very thing they deserve and I WILL be the favorite

[deanscherrypie420]

I'm thinking of changing it to a mesh between criminal minds and supernatural because I want to start primarily writing criminal minds and SPN. Is this a good ideaaaa??

[anon-does-art]

In case you're wondering whether you'll ever find someone who truly matches your vibe, my lover dared me to write fem!Reid fanfic (jokingly, of course); and so, in about 3-5 minutes, I produced this,, grammatical dumpster fire, coffee shop au, she/they Hotch x she/her Reid, and here was her loving response. May you all be blessed with such understanding partners.

[fanfiqueiraquenaoescreve]

Hello, It's me promising to myself that I'will write a Spencer Reid Christimas fanfic even though it's already 21, even though i'm in a 4 years writing slump, even though I'm a procastinator, even though I'm bad at keeping promises, even though I don't remember CM canon anymore. I don't have an idea bur at least I have a motivational playlist

[hotchs-second-wife]

when i couldn't get jemily so i gave them kids who got together

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.” 

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight pound baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded. 

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of royalty that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit. 

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit. 

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.” 

“Hurry, then.” 

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination. 

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him. 

“Are you close?” you whispered. 

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.” 

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Please.” 

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him. 

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back. 

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again. 

You both snapped in unison. 

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

[planetallure]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ dark!fic recs

CW: once again, these works contain dark and explicit themes that may be upsetting or triggering to some. please use your discretion and discernment.

@cherienymphe : when i first seriously got back on tumblr and got into dark!fanfic, cherie's was one of the first blogs i found. her writing was essentially my indoctrination. it was terrifying how much i loved it/her writing. truly phenomenal. i've read quite of few of her stories (mainly for rafe cameron, jj maybank, steve rogers, and peter parker) but i'll list my faves.

"when the party's over" - its something about this series...i think about it often. if you're into forced pregnancy or corruption tropes, tap in.

"wicked games" - i actually first read this one on ao3 before i discovered her tumblr and was absolutely gagged. another one i think of often.

"amnesiac" - the first series of hers that i ever read. absolutely traumatized me and i sobbed reading it. amazing storytelling.

"the hills" - another bangerrr. a one night stand ends in complete and total blackmail and entrapment. he just wanted to give her a better life *clown face emoji*.

"his father's son" - after ward death, rafe takes over the reins in more ways than one.

"teenage dirtbag" - this series single handedly made me a jj girl. the tension??? yup yup mhm.

"the less i know the better" - ironically my favorite part of this story is readers relationship with rafe but seeing jj slowly and then rapidly descend into madness? yeah.

"claimed" - a/b/o dynamics. brought me back to my wattpad days. still eat it up.

"daddy dearest" - steve meets a single mom and decides to be not the stepdad, but the dad who stepped up.

i'll be honest, i was a non believer in dark!peter but: "she's with me", "one last time." "suburbia" and "basic training" made a believer outta me. hands. down.

@lambtotheslaughterr : it absolutely amazes me the things that come from her mind. the level of creativity and originality needs to be studied. oona, you are criminally underrated.

“rise” - the first series of hers that i read. arguably the best series i’ve read on here thus far. this is the first part to her “the day the world ended” universe and it completely blew me away. i couldn’t believe that something like it had come from some silly little boat show. just brilliant.

“when the bough breaks” - the first work of hers i read. this one for me was a heartbreaking slow burn story, but the smut…makes up for it. yes yes.

“i burn” - sex!addict reader x rafe cameron. need i say more? actually, i will. the smut and tension in this one towards the end? it was shameful how turned on i was.

“one way or another” - buckle up, grab a snack, and prepare for the ride of a lifetime. that’s it.

“something wicked this way comes” - a single mom trying to escape her past, except her past is rafe cameron. this was one very spooky scary la la.

"summit" - the second part to the tdtwe universe. its still brand new but its already feeling like another banger, i mean it's oona. tap in.

@harryspet : rae was also apart of my indoctrination and boy did she do what needed to be done. her perfectly curated moodboards alone did it for me. very mindful, very demure.

"homestead" - what can i say...i'm a sucker for pregnancy stories :( and this series was no exception. absolutely delectable. enjoy.

"well kept" - classic millionaire ceo x reader, my younger wp reading self cheered gleefully. my love language is acts of service and boyy was this one speaking my language. had me at "scheduled braiding appointment."

"bambi eyes" - this one was one of those that made me want to take a good long look in the mirror and ask myself, "is this who we are...is this what we represent?"

@sherrybaby14 : this one is for the mcu girlies. more fics than you could ever ask for. everyone say "thank you, mother!"

"the distraction" - i'm starting to notice a kidnapping/stockholm syndrome pattern here...ANYWAY! work is realllyy stressful for steve and you just happen to be the perfect distraction.

@straywords : she's no longer active but her incredible writings remain so please, peruse. its like a beautiful museum over there.

"a break" - *gasp* another pregnancy story! stucky edition.

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor : an icon, a legend, she is the moment! another infinite library for my mcu girls. roo has all you could ever want or ask for.

@perlelune

"all too well" - yes, yes, another one, its who i am. rafe cameron proving once again that you can't escape him.

"lucky" - best friend!rafe x reader. he didn't know what he had until it was almost gone

"tag, you're it" - never read a scream fanfic before this one but boy did i have fun! chad is so pookie in this too :(

@honestsycrets : back when i was in my miguel era, sy single handedly kept me fed.

"starved | mio" - "mio", in which you babysit mayday and it gives miguel baby fever and "starved", in which he made you a mom...but its left less time for other activities.

"stung" - sex pollen/abo. reader gets bitten by an anomaly causing a reaction that only miguel can cure

"amor y respeto" - he just can't love you the way you need to be. so you and miguel break up...at the worst possible time.

"exclusive" - you and miguel are fuckbuddies. you want more, but miguel can't bring himself to give it to you. so you find company in hobie, who's there for you in all the ways that you need. miguel's not happy about that.

"canary" - you're a singer in the 1920s who's fallen in with the dangerous o'hara brothers.

"grande" - sex!worker miguel x assistant!reader. think...a pepper x tony kinda dynamic. except, miguel doesn't take kindly to certain slights. :)

@starfxkrinc : last but certainly not least! moony is a ridiculously talented writer and a mutal of mine. i found her early on during my resurgence on here. this is her new side blog (rip lovesickbrat and starfxkr!!) luckily she was able to salvage a lot of her past works and is back like she never left. i recommend her "western nights" series (really just the trailer park!jj tag in general) and her "ode to eaters" au. a queen of all things taboo. she does it for the girls who are drawn to the dark and scary. the gross and weird. <3