#I don't know if I made myself clear enough or not

[reidmarieprentiss]

Good Boy

Summary: Based on this post from @reidsdimples ! Spencer is being a brat, you put him in his place.

Pairing: sub!Spencer Reid x Unit Chief fem!reader

Category: smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, bratty Spencer, boss/subordinate relationship, mommy kink

Word count: 5.6k

a/n: for you @lovingreaderfangirl <333 this is basically pure smut ,, don't like it don't read it

main masterlist

Additional warnings: sub!spencer, dom!reader, mommy!kink, handjob, edging (male receiving), overstimulation, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it), oral (fem receiving), choking, slapping, slight nursing

You were the unit chief, and while your relationship with your boyfriend, Spencer, usually stayed out of your work life, today was different. Spencer had made a mistake, and to make things worse, he was acting out—whether it was from embarrassment or just a bad attitude, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t going to tolerate it.

"You will go back to that house and do another sweep," you said firmly, not looking up from the open case file on your desk.

Spencer scoffed, crossing his arms in defiance. "That's ridiculous, Y/N! Morgan’s already there," he snapped, his voice sharp.

Your head shot up at his words, your eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Ridiculous?" you repeated, incredulous. "No, Spencer. What's ridiculous is you missing a massive piece of evidence and then standing here arguing with me about it." Your tone dropped, icy and stern. "You will go back to that house and search it from top to bottom. I don’t care if it takes all night. Am I making myself clear?"

Spencer’s eyes flared with frustration, and he bit back, “So, what, you’re punishing me now?”

The edge in his voice wasn’t something you were used to hearing from your usually sweet, thoughtful Spencer. You stood up, moving around your desk with deliberate steps until you were standing close enough to feel the tension between you.

"Are you talking back to me?" you asked, your voice dangerously low, your authority unmistakable. 

Spencer swallowed, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he realized how serious you were. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—so angry, so venomous—but even though he was nervous, his stubbornness kept him from backing down just yet. 

Spencer straightened his posture, though his nerves betrayed him, making his hands fidget at his sides. He'd never seen you this mad before—at least, not directed at him—and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. But he felt too deep in this argument to backpedal now.

"I’m not talking back to you," Spencer muttered, though his tone remained defiant. "I’m just saying Morgan’s already there. There’s no reason for me to go too. We’re wasting time!" His voice escalated again, but it wavered slightly, showing the anxiety bubbling under his frustration.

You were having none of it.

“Wasting time? Is that what you think we’re doing here?” you snapped, each word clipped and precise, your gaze locked onto him with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. You were so close now that Spencer could see the tension in your jaw, feel the weight of your authority in the room. You weren’t his girlfriend in this moment—you were his boss, and you were demanding respect.

“Spencer,” your voice dropped, quieter but no less dangerous, “I don’t care how you feel about going back to that house. You missed something crucial, and you need to fix it. You messed up, and you know it. So stop acting like a petulant child and do your damn job.”

The words stung, more than he wanted to admit. His shoulders tensed, and he clenched his fists by his sides, but he couldn’t find the right words to argue back. He was embarrassed—not just because of his mistake, but because he knew you were right. But his pride was wounded, and that was hard to swallow.

"I... I just—" he started, but you cut him off sharply.

“No more excuses, Spencer. You will go to that house, and you will make sure every inch of it has been checked. And if I hear another word of backtalk from you, you’ll be off this case completely. Is that understood?"

Spencer’s breath hitched, his defiance slipping further away with each word you threw at him. He could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him, and for the first time, he realized just how much he had crossed a line. But he was still too stubborn to admit it.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, the edge of sarcasm still lingering, but now laced with a thread of defeat.

You stepped even closer, eyes narrowing as you stared him down. "What was that?"

Spencer swallowed hard, realizing he wasn’t in a position to push any further. “I understand,” he said more clearly, his tone softening. He wanted to reach for you, to find some semblance of the warmth he was used to from you, but he knew better. Right now, you weren’t his to reach for.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, leaving behind the tension that lingered like a storm cloud. You stood there for a moment, watching the door swing shut, anger still simmering beneath your skin, but also a twinge of sadness. Spencer had never acted out like that before, and though you knew you had to be stern, it hurt to see him so distant and defiant.

But this was work. Personal feelings would have to wait.

—

However, there was a time and place for personal feelings to come to the surface, and that time was now—in the privacy of your shared apartment with Spencer.

You had gotten home first. Spencer was still out, likely combing through the crime scene after you’d sent him back to fix his earlier mistake. Frustrated by the lingering tension between you two, you huffed your way through your evening routine. You made dinner, though you knew Spencer would probably be too upset to eat when he got home. He could have the leftovers later. After that, you showered and curled up in bed with a book, waiting for him to return.

When Spencer finally came home, his anger was palpable. He slammed the front door behind him, muttering under his breath as he left a trail of clothes through the hallway on his way to the shower. The bathroom door slammed shut as well, echoing through the apartment. You sighed and rolled your eyes—if Spencer thought his attitude would go unaddressed, he was mistaken. He was in for a real punishment tonight.

After what felt like forever, Spencer emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and towel wrapped loosely around his waist. At least he had the sense to show a hint of submission, you thought.

Without looking up from your book, your voice calm and controlled, you gave your command. "Kneel."

Spencer froze, taken aback by the sudden authority in your tone. He turned his head, his confusion evident. "What?"

You set your book down slowly and fixed him with a steady gaze. "Did you not hear me? Or are you talking back again?" There was a warning in your voice, a promise that you weren’t playing games tonight. "I really don’t want to make your punishment worse, baby."

Spencer hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of the situation settling in, knowing you were in complete control now. He lowered his gaze, the tension between you thick, as he finally obeyed, dropping to his knees.

You stood up from the bed, your movements deliberate as you slowly circled around Spencer, letting your eyes roam over him with a quiet intensity. The soft sound of your bare feet against the floor was the only thing breaking the silence as you took in his posture—tense, but submissive, waiting for what was coming next. 

When you stopped in front of him, you reached down and tilted his chin up with a single finger, forcing him to meet your gaze. His eyes were defiant, even now. You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

"You know you’re in trouble, right, baby?" you asked, your voice sweet but laced with warning.

Spencer didn’t respond right away; instead, he narrowed his eyes at you, his lips pressed into a thin line, as if testing how far he could push. Without hesitation, you slapped his face lightly, the quick sting enough to make him let out a soft whimper. His eyes widened in surprise, but he still held his ground.

Roughly, you grabbed his cheeks in one hand, squeezing his face so he had no choice but to focus on you. "I asked you a question, brat."

“Yes, Mommy," he mumbled, his voice small and obedient now, the fight in him fading. "I know I’m in trouble."

"Hmm, good," you said, releasing his face with a satisfied hum. You began pacing around him again, like a predator stalking its prey, before stopping just behind him, leaning close enough that your breath tickled his ear. "And why are you in trouble, smart boy?"

Spencer swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. "Because I argued with you. I was disrespectful. I–I acted like a brat."

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. "That’s right." You stood up straight again, looking down at him. "And now, you're going to make it up to me, aren’t you?"

Spencer nodded, his face falling into a sad expression, clearly regretting how he had acted earlier. He was always your good boy, and he knew that punishment was rare because he hardly ever misbehaved. The realization of how far he'd pushed you today weighed on him, leaving him feeling small and upset.

"Why are you pouting, baby?" you asked, your tone softening just a touch as you stood in front of him, looking down at his bowed head.

Spencer shrugged, his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet your gaze. He shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting slightly in his lap, but still, he said nothing.

"Words, Spencer," you reminded him firmly. "Speak up."

He hesitated for a moment before finally looking up at you, his eyes filled with guilt. "I hate that I disappointed you," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I don’t like being punished… you never have to do this. I’m supposed to be your good boy."

You felt a flicker of sympathy for him, knowing how much he valued pleasing you, but you held firm. "Yes, you are supposed to be my good boy," you agreed, leaning down slightly so that your eyes were level with his. "But today, you weren’t. Today, you acted like a bad boy, and now, you have to accept the consequences."

Spencer bit his lip, nodding again, the weight of his actions settling in further. "I know… I’m sorry."

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, stroking it softly for just a moment before pulling back. "Thank you for apologizing. But you still need to learn."

“Stand up. Don’t keep the towel,” you ordered, your voice cold and almost bored, leaving no room for hesitation. Spencer flinched at the command, the sharp tone slicing through the air as he scrambled to comply. The towel slipped from his body, falling to the floor as he stood there, bare and vulnerable.

“Get on the bed,” you continued, moving with a quiet precision as you retrieved something from the dresser, your back turned to him. “Hands above your head.”

Spencer couldn’t see what you were holding, and that only added to his nervousness. He climbed onto the bed, his heart racing, and stretched his arms above his head, just as you instructed. 

When you finally turned back toward him, he caught sight of the ties and lube in your hands, and his body reacted instantly—a slight twitch of excitement mixed with fear. His breath quickened, but his eyes never left yours. He hated the feeling of being restrained, of not being able to touch you, to feel you close. But there was something intoxicating about the power dynamic, about giving himself over to you completely.

You approached him slowly, deliberately, the ties dangling from your fingers like a silent promise of what was to come. Without saying a word, you moved to the head of the bed, taking his wrists gently but firmly and securing them to the bedposts. Spencer’s chest rose and fell rapidly as the ties tightened around his wrists, his muscles straining, already longing to break free.

His eyes searched yours, desperate for any hint of softness, but he found none. You were in control, and he knew it.

"Mommy," Spencer whimpered softly, his voice barely above a whisper, full of need and desperation.

You glanced down at him, your gaze calm and measured. "Yes, baby?"

His eyes flickered with longing as he whined, "I want to touch you."

A sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned down slightly, your fingers brushing lightly along his arm, teasing but not giving him what he wanted. "I want that too, my love," you murmured, your voice laced with a touch of sympathy, though your expression remained stern. "But I can't give you a reward quite yet."

"Yet?" Spencer perked up, excitement sparking in his eyes, the word like a glimmer of hope he clung to.

You smirked at his eagerness, trailing your hand down his chest in a feather-light touch, just enough to make him squirm. "Yet," you confirmed. "But you'll have to earn it, baby. That means no whining, no more attitude. Understand?"

Spencer nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with anticipation, but you could see the struggle in him—how hard it was for him to hold back, to stay restrained when all he wanted was to feel you. "I’ll be good," he promised, his voice shaky. "Please, I’ll be good."

You smiled, your fingers trailing lower. "We'll see, baby. We'll see."

Spencer squirmed involuntarily as your fingers teased his stomach, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. "Keep still, Spence," you instructed, your voice firm but calm, watching as he took deep, shaky breaths in an attempt to regain control over his body.

His wide eyes followed your every move as you reached for the bottle of lube on the bedside table, and he watched, anticipation building, as you squirted some of its contents into your hand. The cool sensation made his breath hitch the moment your hand wrapped around him, his back arching off the bed instinctively.

Without missing a beat, you placed your other hand on his hips, pressing him back down into the mattress. "Spencer, be good," you warned, your tone leaving no room for disobedience.

His body trembled, caught between the overwhelming sensation and the need to obey you. "I’m trying," he whispered, his voice strained as he fought to stay still, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the ties. His chest heaved, desperate to be good for you, but the pleasure was intoxicating, testing his restraint.

You smirked, knowing exactly how far you could push him. "Good boy," you murmured, your hand moving slowly, deliberately, keeping his hips pinned down as he tried not to writhe beneath you, every muscle in his body begging for release, but you weren’t done with him yet. Not even close.

After almost an hour of torture, Spencer was doing everything in his power to follow your rules, his body taut with tension as he tried to stay still beneath your touch. His breath came in ragged gasps, his wrists pulling at the ties as he strained not to buck his hips against you. But you were making it so hard for him—each time your hand changed pace, it sent him spiraling, his mind spinning out of control. You could feel his body tightening, every muscle coiling as he teetered on the edge.

And just when you knew he was close, so close, you let go.

A desperate sound tore from his throat, half whine, half groan, as you pulled your hand away, denying him the release he so desperately craved. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving as he looked up at you, practically begging for mercy.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. "Please, I want—"

You shushed him gently, running your hand down his chest in a soothing gesture. "Spencer," you said softly but firmly, your eyes locking onto his. "What did I say about being good?"

"I-I’m trying," he gasped, his voice shaky as he fought to hold on. "I’m really trying."

You could see him unraveling, his mind quickly losing grip on any sense of control. And that was exactly where you wanted him.

"Then keep trying, baby," you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his chest. "You’ll get what you want when I’m ready to give it to you. Not a moment before."

You sped your hand up, focusing all your attention on the sensitive tip, moving with quick, intense strokes. Spencer's body reacted immediately, his back arching violently off the bed as a scream tore from his chest.

"Mommy! Please!" His voice cracked, high and desperate, tears beginning to stream from his eyes as he lost all composure. "I’m going to come!"

But instead of granting him mercy, you snapped sharply, "No!" The command echoed in the room, and Spencer flinched at your tone. "If you come," you warned, your eyes dark and unwavering, "I’m not stopping."

His breath hitched, and his sobs grew more frantic. He fought to control himself, but the sensation was overwhelming, his mind teetering on the brink of bliss and despair. The threat of what would come if he disobeyed hung heavy in the air, fueling his panic as he tried, with every ounce of strength, to hold back the release his body so desperately craved.

"Please," Spencer sobbed, his tears mixing with the sweat on his face as his entire body trembled beneath your relentless touch. "I-I can’t… I can’t hold on…"

"Yes, you can," you whispered, your voice soft but commanding as you leaned closer. "You will, or you’ll regret it, baby. Be good for me."

He choked out a whimper, his muscles straining, teetering on the edge of breaking as your hand continued its torturous rhythm, and every nerve in his body screamed for release. But you were in control, and Spencer knew there would be no relief until you decided. 

You pressed your palm firmly against the sensitive tip, rubbing harsh circles that sent shockwaves through Spencer’s body. He couldn't hold it any longer—a guttural scream tore from his throat as his orgasm ripped through him, his release spilling across his stomach in hot, frantic bursts.

But there was no mercy in your eyes as you watched him unravel beneath you.

"Oh… bad boy, baby," you tutted softly, your voice laced with both disappointment and a dark edge of amusement. Without missing a beat, you gripped him tightly, continuing your mean, relentless rhythm even as his body spasmed from the intensity.

Spencer writhed beneath you, his sobs louder now as the overstimulation set in, his body too sensitive to handle the unyielding pace of your hand. "Please, please!" he begged, his voice hoarse, his tears mixing with the sweat on his face. "I-I can’t—please stop, I’m sorry!"

But you only leaned in closer, your hand maintaining its punishing rhythm. "I told you, baby," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear, "if you came, I wouldn’t stop. And bad boys don’t get to decide when it’s over."

Spencer whimpered helplessly, his entire body shaking as he endured the overwhelming sensations, unable to escape the torment of your touch. The line between pleasure and pain had long since blurred, leaving him at your mercy. And you weren't done with him yet. 

You suddenly let go of Spencer, pulling your hand away from him. For a brief moment, he thought the torture had finally ended, and he took deep, strained breaths, his chest heaving as tears continued to spill from his eyes. 

"Thank you, Mommy," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he sighed in relief, closing his eyes as if he could finally rest.

But just as he began to relax, his eyes shot open, wide with shock, as he felt you sinking down on top of him, your body enveloping him in an overwhelming rush of sensation. The overstimulation hit him like a bolt of electricity, and his body reacted instantly, thrashing beneath you in a desperate attempt to escape the intensity.

"Mommy!" he cried out, his voice ragged and broken as his body twisted under yours. His muscles tensed, his movements frantic, but there was no escape.

"Shut up," you seethed, your voice low and dangerous as you wrapped your hand around his throat, tightening your grip just enough to still him. His breath hitched, and his panicked eyes met yours. "I’m in charge," you reminded him, the weight of your authority pressing down on him as surely as your body did.

Spencer whimpered beneath your grip, his mind a haze of overstimulation and helplessness, but he knew better than to argue with you. His resistance faded as he realized you weren’t done with him yet—not until you decided.

"Tell me, baby," you panted, your body moving rhythmically as you rode Spencer, chasing your own release with relentless intensity. Every roll of your hips drove him deeper into overstimulation, but you were in control, and you weren’t letting up. "How does it feel?"

Spencer sniffled, his voice shaky and tear-filled. "S-so good, Mommy," he stammered, struggling to hold himself together as his body continued to tremble beneath you.

You laughed, the sound sharp and mean as you continued, "Thought you couldn’t take it." There was a mocking edge to your voice as you rode him harder, the sensation overwhelming his senses. "Were you lying?"

"No!" Spencer cried, his voice breaking as he clung to the edge of his composure. "It—it hurts, Mommy, but I like it!"

"Yes, yes, you do," you taunted, your tone dripping with satisfaction as you gazed down at him, your pathetic, brainless boy. "You like it when Mommy uses you, don’t you?"

"Yes!" he nearly screamed, his body shaking uncontrollably, caught between pain and pleasure. "Please! Just want to be good for you," he sobbed, his desperation palpable as he surrendered completely to your control.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Then be good, baby, and take everything I give you." Your body continued to grind down on him, mercilessly chasing your own release, pushing him further past the point of no return.

By the time you reached your release, Spencer was a wreck beneath you, his body trembling as sobs wracked his chest. He cried out in desperation as your muscles tightened around him, sending him further into an abyss of overstimulation. Each second felt like an eternity for him, trapped between the aching pleasure and the need to obey you.

Just when he thought relief was finally coming, you lifted yourself off of him, hovering just above him, denying him that final push he needed. Spencer’s whine was pitiful, filled with frustration and longing. "Mommy! Please!" he whimpered, his voice cracking as tears continued to stream down his face.

"Please what?" you asked, your tone deliberately condescending as you leaned back, watching him squirm beneath you. "Use your words, dumb baby."

Spencer swallowed hard, his body twitching with anticipation, his mind too clouded to do anything but beg. "Please let me come," he sobbed, his voice raw and desperate. "Please, Mommy."

You smirked, your eyes dark with amusement as you leaned forward just enough to tease him with the possibility of what he wanted. "Hmm… okay, baby," you said, your voice dripping with false sweetness. "But you’re cleaning it up after."

Spencer twitched at your words, his entire body lighting up with excitement at the promise. The thought of finally getting the release he so desperately needed was enough to make him shiver. "Yes, Mommy," he gasped, nodding eagerly as his breath hitched in anticipation, his mind already surrendering completely to your control.

You lowered yourself back down onto Spencer, and his loud, desperate moan filled the room as he watched you take him in again, the sight alone enough to push him closer to the edge. His body was trembling, every nerve on fire as you rode him hard and fast, the intensity of your movements leaving him powerless to do anything but submit. 

His hands tugged against the restraints, his eyes squeezed shut, and with a strangled cry, he found his release, his body jerking as he filled you up. The sensation of you pinching and tugging at his nipples sent him over the edge, his cries growing louder as his body finally gave in completely.

You slowed your pace, riding out the last of his climax, before finally relaxing on top of him, your breath steadying. Spencer lay beneath you, panting and exhausted, his chest heaving as he came down from the overwhelming high.

With a soft sigh, you pulled off him, moving up his body with a deliberate slowness, positioning yourself directly over his face. You looked down at him, your fingers gently brushing through his hair as you smiled wickedly. "Ready to clean up your mess, baby?"

Spencer’s eyes widened, his mouth already watering at the thought, and he nodded eagerly, his voice breathless and submissive. "Yes, Mommy, please," he whispered, his eyes full of adoration as he awaited your command, ready to obey, to please, and to make up for every bit of his earlier defiance.

You lowered yourself onto Spencer's waiting mouth, threading your fingers through his hair as you settled into a steady rhythm, guiding his movements with gentle yet firm pressure. His tongue worked eagerly, desperate to please you, to clean up every bit of the mess he'd made.

“Oh, Spence,” you sighed, your head falling back slightly as you rode his face, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Your mouth is so good, baby."

Spencer whimpered in response, his efforts growing more determined with every sound of approval that escaped your lips. You could feel the way he was trying so hard to be good for you, to make you proud, and it only fueled your desire to push him further.

"Making Mommy so proud," you praised, your voice laced with satisfaction as you tugged gently at his hair, controlling his pace. His tongue flicked faster, more desperate to hear those words again, and you couldn't help the soft moans escaping you as you continued to ride his face, letting the sensation build.

With each passing second, Spencer's mouth worked harder, your praise driving him to do anything for you. His whimpers were muffled by your body, but the eagerness in his touch and the way he responded to your every command made it clear—he was willing to do anything to make you proud.

You continued to ride Spencer’s face, your fingers tightening in his hair as you guided him, making sure he stayed exactly where you needed him. His tongue flicked and swirled in all the right places, and the sounds of your pleasure spurred him on, his hands instinctively tugging against the restraints as he longed to touch you, to feel your body against his.

"That’s it, baby," you breathed, your voice a mix of praise and moans as you pressed down harder, your body shivering from the sensations he was creating. "You’re making Mommy feel so good."

Spencer whimpered beneath you, the vibrations of his muffled cries only adding to your pleasure as you ground down onto him, riding his mouth with a newfound urgency. Your hips moved faster, chasing the climax that was building inside you, each stroke of his tongue sending you closer to the edge.

"You like this, don’t you?" you asked, your voice breathless but firm. "You like being my toy, Spence?"

His desperate whimpers were the only answer you needed. You tugged harder at his hair, pulling his face closer, your pace quickening as the pleasure began to overwhelm you. Spencer’s tongue moved in perfect rhythm with your hips, eager to push you to your peak.

As the tension built, you gasped, your body trembling as you felt yourself nearing the brink. "I’m so proud of you, baby," you whispered, your voice strained as you rode out the waves of pleasure. "So proud…"

With a final, desperate grind against his mouth, the climax washed over you, your body convulsing as you cried out, the release crashing through you in waves. Spencer didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work, not wanting you to take away his favorite treat. 

His mouth and tongue continued their relentless work, his eagerness only spurring you on as your cries grew louder. "Oh! Good boy!" you gasped, the praise slipping from your lips as your hips thrust faster against his mouth, riding the wave of pleasure that was building once again.

"You like tasting yourself?" you panted, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts as your body moved with a desperate rhythm. Spencer moaned beneath you, his muffled response sending vibrations through your core, and it only drove you to push harder against him.

"Like it coming out of me?" you taunted, your voice strained and full of need as you felt his tongue lapping eagerly at the mess you had made together. The idea of him cleaning up his own release, desperate to please you, sent shivers down your spine, adding to the already overwhelming sensation.

Spencer whimpered beneath you, his body reacting to your words even as he remained restrained, helpless to do anything but obey. The combination of your command, the praise, and the undeniable power you held over him had him lost in submission, and you could feel the tension building in both of you again.

"Such a good boy," you praised, your voice trembling with the intensity of your pleasure. "So good at doing exactly what Mommy needs." You rode him harder, your body nearing its limit once more as Spencer's tongue worked tirelessly beneath you.

The room was filled with the sounds of your panting breaths, your moans mixing with Spencer's muffled noises as he continued to drive you closer to the edge. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your hips grinding down faster, chasing that final release.

With a breathless cry, your third climax crashed through you, your entire body quivering as Spencer’s tongue carried you over the edge once again. You moaned his name, gripping his hair tightly as you rode out the waves of pleasure, not slowing until every last bit of satisfaction had pulsed through you.

You pulled yourself off of Spencer, and immediately he let out a whine, his lips pouting in protest, not wanting you to take his favorite treat away, he could eat you out for hours. His neediness tugged at your heart, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gently stroked his hair.

"Baby, Mommy is sensitive," you said softly, your voice filled with affection. 

Spencer pouted even more, his eyes big and round as he mumbled, "I just wanna make you feel good."

"You did make me feel so good, baby," you reassured him, your smile widening as you saw his face light up, the joy radiating from his eyes.

"Am I your good boy again?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope and a bit of that endearing vulnerability that always made you melt.

Your heart softened instantly, and you leaned down, cupping his face in your hands as you pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "You’re always my good boy," you whispered against his mouth. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mommy," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, eyes full of adoration.

After you untied him, you took your time massaging his arms and wrists, soothing the slight redness left behind by the ties. You helped him into the shower with you, gently guiding him as he leaned heavily against you, still needing your care. The warm water cascaded over both of you as you softly washed his body, your touches gentle and nurturing. Spencer rested his head against your shoulder, completely relying on your strength, his exhaustion clear as he sighed softly, content in your embrace.

Once you were both dried off and dressed for bed, you brought him back to the comfort of your bed, where you massaged lotion into his arms, making sure he felt taken care of. Your lips peppered soft kisses over his skin as you worked, your voice a soothing murmur as you whispered how good he was, how proud you were of him.

"You’re so good, Spencer," you murmured between kisses. "Always my good boy."

Spencer sighed, his body fully relaxed now as he basked in your affection, letting your words and touch wash over him like a warm blanket. His eyes fluttered closed, a small smile playing on his lips as you continued to kiss and praise him, reminding him of just how much he meant to you.

“Mommy…” Spencer’s voice was soft, hesitant, as he lay beside you, his head resting on your chest.

“Mhm?” you murmured back, feeling the weight of tiredness pulling at you, though still present enough to listen to him.

“Can I suck…?” His voice trailed off, filled with uncertainty.

You giggled softly, a wave of affection washing over you for your needy little baby. "Of course, Spence," you murmured, lifting your shirt to give him the comfort he craved.

Without hesitation, Spencer nestled his head underneath, latching onto your breast with a soft sigh. His body relaxed against yours, and you could feel the tension melt away as he suckled gently, his breathing becoming slow and steady.

You stroked his hair lovingly, the intimate moment between you quiet and peaceful. “You’re such a good boy,” you whispered softly, letting him find the comfort he needed as you both slowly drifted off to sleep, his head resting safely against your chest.

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[izzy-b-hands]

Putting on last year's trans rigs stream from Drawfee before i have to get ready to go out with my mum and her bf today (bc i have the worst feeling in my gut he's gonna make that An Thing for me if given the chance today, aka whenever i eventually need the restroom while we're at Mystic)

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[eudikot]

Man refuses to take a day off.

I wasn't going to follow this comic up but I decided to go into work today

[dozenssporks]

for the love of doughnuts

knives did not turn into a tree

what knives feared most was being used and used up by humans until he died a horrible death at their hands, like Tesla, like so many plants. To turn himself into an apple tree? To exist just for the sake of producing resources for humans indefinitely? Never.

[dazais-guardian-angel]

went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠

[thebeautifulfantastic]

<3

[timelord-vicwhorious]

Opinion on all these neopronouns?

Oh, are they considered "neo" pronouns in this century? Anyhow, I don't have an opinion on them. Do you have an opinion on pronouns humans of this century consider "regular" like she or he?

[infriga]

Just a small request to anyone who follows me or checks out my blog, please don't insult something I enjoy in the tags if you're going to reblog something about it from me that isn't already a critique.

[theultracharmingladynoire]

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[medicinemane]

It's just a fact that nothing I do matters or has any impact

I can prove it, and I do mean that

I wouldn't want to because I think it would bother people, but I have... endless proof

[mothocean]

Girl help i am having grievances over my art major final project

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Need to get it through our skull just bc he doesn't hit us anymore don't mean he doesn't hurt us

[hedgehog-moss]

I went to a restaurant with a friend yesterday and upon entering we saw these splendid blueberry tarts under bell jars on the counter and we made jokey small talk with the waitress like oh, people will fight over these if there's not enough for everyone, it'll tear families apart, are you making more later? and she said no, I'm afraid that's our entire stock for today, but there are 18 slices, it should be plenty! It was a small village restaurant with only one menu du jour so there weren't any other dessert options but they don't usually get that many customers—but then a couple of large groups arrived and most people noticed the tarts like we did, and went ohh blueberry tart, it's been a while, I can't wait, and it became clear that when we'd get to the end of our meal there would be winners and losers in the blueberry tart rush

But later as we were about to order dessert I wasn't hungry anymore and I was like well that's too bad but someone else will be glad to get 'my' slice of tart—and my friend said yeah, me :) You should order it anyway, I'll eat both! At first I thought she was joking, but no. I said, there's not enough for everyone, you can't take two, and she said, we were going to order two slices, what difference does it make? and I was baffled that she couldn't see the ethical difference between two people eating one slice of tart each vs. one person eating two, when there's a limited quantity of tart. I felt like we were in a simplistic social justice metaphor it was so obvious, but there was no changing her mind. When I said "it's just... not nice" she said "okay" with a shrug, and what can you say to that. She added, you don't know any of these people and I was like, why are we reverting to tribal dynamics in a non-apocalyptic setting, how would you feel if we'd arrived a bit later and seen others ordering two desserts knowing you'd get zero? And she said, I would think that's their right, and I felt kind of amazed.

I pointed out that if she didn't think it was a wee bit wrong, she wouldn't ask me to order her second piece as if it was for me, and she said yeah maybe we don't need to do that, there's no law preventing me from ordering two desserts. What about Kant's categorical imperative Okay I guess you're not breaking any laws by taking more than your fair share of a thing other people also want, just failing a kindergarten-level morality test. I felt embarrassed for sounding like an annoying preachy rigid person so I dropped the issue, and as she ate her two slices she'd smile at me every time we overheard someone order coffee without dessert—like "See? There'll be enough, no one will be deprived of tart because of me!" as if that cancelled the fact that she didn't care in the first place. I guess it was one of these tiny issues that can still significantly alter the way you perceive a person. I tried to tell myself not to be so bothered about this small thing but I was! so bothered. And I felt like writing a letter to some agony aunt like "should I end a friendship over irreconcilable blueberry tart ethics"

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

You belong to me

Paring: upper ranks + Muzan x Fem!reader

Synopsis: In different pov's, their jealously turn them a bit crazy

Content: possessiveness, jealousy, hinted smut, choking, fave grabbing, slight blood play, demon reader in Akaza, Nakime and kokushibo's part, kidnapping on Douma and Muzan's part, escape attempt, Muzan grabs you by the neck like that one guy in 365 days lol, arranged marriage theme on Muzans part

A/n: yall know that song by the weeknd? had to write some possessive jealous shit based on that song with some demons! WHAAAA I NEVER WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!🥴might do one with the hashira next🤭

Akaza

Akaza is known to not like his fellow upper ranks. You've seen it first hand when Muzan allowed you to attend an upper rank meeting since you became a demon by Akaza. He hated them all with a passion. Especially the ones ranked above him. With this knowledge, what in the hell possessed you to give any of them your attention?

Not just any upper rank, either. Douma in particular. In your defense, once Douma starts speaking, it's hard to shoo him off, especially given that you're much weaker than Douma is, so you play along to keep your reputation on a good note. You simply smile and nod at his nonsense. You knew Akaza wasn't going to step in since he'd rather run in the sunlight than talk to Douma if you were on your own.

How wrong you thought you were. Once Muzan actually left, Douma become more bold. Asking you personal questions, standing to close and even about to hold your hand, but before you could answer, you heard the sounds of blood splatter on the floor. Your eyes widened at how quick Douma's arm was severed.

"Oh, come now, lord Akaza. I was just joking-" "Shut up for once." Akaza snarled at douma in pure disgust. You wanted to say something, but you felt your feet leave the ground. Akaza had grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder and walked away from Douma while holding you. It always amazed you just how fast he was, but you knew how mad he was. The anger was just raiding off Akaza.

Akaza made sure to be far away from the other upper ranks in the infinitely castle and walked into one of the many empty rooms. Akaza put you down, but then, he backed you up against the wall. You felt your back press flat with your hands on the wall as well, giving how close he was to you. "Lord Akaza, please don't read too much into it. Douma was just being an idiot. " You tried to explain, but Akaza wasn't having any of it.

Akaza raised his brow. "So you're defending him?" His voice rasped as he tilted his head to the side. "No.." Your tone softened and looked at Akaza, worried since that wasn't your intentions. "I don't think I've made myself clear enough if my actions haven't shown it already." Akaza said and brought his hand to your collar bone and rested it there for a moment.

"Demon's I hate don't get the right to talk to who belongs to me." Akaza's face comes closer to yours with his lips now inches away from yours. His hand moves from your collar bone, up to wrap around your throat. "And you entertain a demon like him. Even saying his name from these lips. His fucking, name" Akaza's jaw clenched, and his hand tightens kts grip on your throat.

"Aka..za" his name hitched in your throat. His grip was deadly. You could still breathe. However, Akaza's grip was firm. He wouldn't dare kill his precious demon. It was just a "light" punishment. However, he needed you to learn your lesson and to show your loyalty to him and him alone. "Say my name properly. Or is my strength too much for you to speak?" Akaza smirked.

"L-lord Akaza. Lord Akaza~" you say his mamw twice. The second time you say it, you let out a heavy gasp as akaza lossend his grip on your throat. "You belong to me. Understood?" Akaza asked, keeping that eye contact and tightening his hand around your throat if you dared to look away. You nod quickly, your eyes almost teary from the slight lack of oxygen, and you watch Akaza's lips curl into another smirk.

"Good girl." He chuckled and gave you a kiss.

Nakime

Your girlfriend, Nakime, had summoned you to the infinitely castle. It's her job to always summon the 12 kizuki at the request of Muzan. Naturally, you felt terrified but remained to have a calm once you were summoned. However, Muzan was nowhere to he seen. Just Nakime, sitting there, a level above, and you looked up at her in confusion.

"Pardon for speaking out of turn, but where is lord Muzan," you asked, assuming it was him who wanted to speak with you, but it turns out that wasn't the case. "It was I who summoned you." Nakime spoke, her tone a bit quiet yet blunt. You chuckled and cut the formal introduction since Muzan isn't here, and you can speak freely since it's just you and your girlfriend.

"You do know it's probably a bad idea to summon me since you're taking me away from my work. Search of the blue spider lily and all." You grinned at Nakime and palced your hand on your hip. "I was keeping an eye on you. One of upper 4's clones has gotten closer to you. Haven't he? " Nakima said. You detected slight irritation in her voice, mentioning one of Hantengu's clones, but instead of asking a question for a question, you always knew it was better to answer her first.

"Ah, Urogi, yes. I wouldn't say we are close. However, he's a fun demon to work with. He likes to have a bit of joy and humor on our search," you answered. It isn't abnormal for Nakime to use her blood demon art this way. Especially since she's on the lookout to find the ubuyashiki family in the demon slayer core. Still, you couldn't hide your smile knowing Nakime was most likely thinking about you and wanted to check in on you.

"I forbid you to speak to him. Your task is to look for the spider lily. Not entertain each other with humorous jokes and touching," Nakime said. Her words made your heart spot for a moment and knew exactly what she was talking about. Urogi has always been proud of his sharp talons and would often tease you with them, but on this mission, he wanted to take it up a notch and poked your cheek.

To you, it was a wholesome moment. Urogi was just teasing, nothing different he dosnt do to the others, but Nakima had to see that, and she was furious. Urogi only touched you once in a playful manner, and it was enough for her to use her blood demon art to summon her back to you in that very moment. "He was getting too close to you for my liking and being bold enough to do that. Especially bringing those filthy claws of his to touch my woman's pretty face."

During this entire time, her facial expression remained unchanged until now. You could see her lips form into a frown and even watched as her teeth clenched together in a snarl. She was jealous. "Urogi was just being playful. I wouldn't read too deep into it, love. Sekido is probably scoling Urogi right now for wasting time to focus on finding the blue spider lily." You reassure Nakima, but she wouldn't let it go.

"Come here." Nakime took her biwa off her lap and rested it gently beside her on the floor and motioned her finger for you to come sit in front of her. You did as Nakime asked and sat down in front of her. You wanted to explain further to find the right words to reassure Nakime, but before you could, her hand grabbed your face

You gasped. Your breathing became unsteady as you felt her firm grip, her four fingers on one cheek while the other had her thumb, or rather her nail, poking onto your skin. The same spot Urogi poked at. "I will not allow a man's to touch to linger on what belongs to me." Nakime's voice turned cold. "You belong to me." She said as her thumb nail pressed harder, breaking your skin until blood slowly pours out.

Your jaw opens, and you inhale a sharp breath with your eyes barely open as you feel the sting. You're a demon, so of course it'll heal, and Nakime didn't pierce too deep. It was her way of wanting to hear her words come out of your mouth. You kept your eyes on her and eventually spoke up. "I belong to you~" Your voice hitched as you felt nails nail pull away from your skin.

Nakime leaned in closer to lick the blood from your cheek and watched as your cut healed already. She kissed your cheek and then came closer to your ear and whispered, "That's right. You belong to me, beautiful." Nakime said. Her hand lets go of your face and then trails her sharp nails down your neck.

You shivered until her fingers reached your kimono, near your tits and Nakime smirked. "I should remind you of how a woman's touch feels. So you'll never let another man touch you again," Nakime said. You bit your lip softly, feeling the heat rise higher in your body and your thighs squeezing together more. "I want that," you said, and Nakime's smirk only grew.

"Open your thighs for me and lay back. I'll show you how good these fingers work other than playing a biwa"

Kokushibo

His brother has been dead for centuries. Yet his name still echos throughout history but never would kokushibo think that his brothers name, yoriichi, would leave your lips.

Although you're a demon now and have been for a while now, you could still recount memories you had during your times as a human, especially in the demon slayer core. It was basically a law for any of the 12 kizuki to never speak of Yoriichis' name, yet you just had to talk about him since gyokko was curious to know how humans thought of him.

"Yoriichi has sun breathing. That's the best way to describe why he's well known even after his death. He could kill any demon in seconds. It's quite impressive," you admit to gyokko, and he nods his head, humming in response. Kokushibo had already been looking for you, but he never interrupted any of your conversations when you had them. However, hearing Yoriichis' name from you alone set him off to act out.

He came from around the coner and stood behind you. "Do I think yoriichi could beat Kokushibo? Well maybe-" you said but then saw both of gyokko's mouths open as he looked behind you. Your brow raised in question, and you turned around to see what shook him so much, but now you realized. "Kokushibou hi" you smiled nervously at him.

"It was good talking to you, bye!!!" Gyokko hides inside his pot, probably in another one by now, so it was just kokushibo and you. "Listen, I was just- oh!" Kokushibou picked you up, and then you heard Nakime's biwa sound, transporting you back to his home. You knew you fucked up. You and gyokko tried to talk in secret, but now kokushibo was going to punish you, a demon for speaking about yoriichi but in his own way.

Kokushibo put you down, turning your body away from him to face the wall with your body pushed up against it. You grunted from the sudden pressure but gasped once your hair was pulled back to face kokushibo. The view was upside down, but you could see just how angry he was. "You know to refrain from using that name. Have you lost your mind?" Kokushibou said, his deep voice almost turning into a growl.

His hand had a fist full of your hair, and not only that, his lower half was just inches away from pressing up against you. "I know- I was just telling memories from my human life I didn't think it was a big deal-" "and you actually believe a person like him could defeat me. Do you really think that? Dose his name interest you so much that you've forgotten just who's wife you belong to?" Kokushibou said.

You had a confused look on your face. Is he seriously jealous at the mention of his brother's name from his lover? You knew kokushibo was jealous, but you didn't expect him to be this possessive. "I'm sorry~" This is all you could mutter out. "Do not. Ever say that name. Again." Kokushibou crouches down to your ear, speaking slow for his words to be understood.

You mewl softly, biting your lip as you nod quickly, understand his words. "My name should be the only name said from those lips." Kokushibou now brought his other hand up to your chin and holding it while his other hand is still gripping your hair. Your back arches just a bit more once you felt Kokushibou press himself up against your ass.

He let out a heavy breath with a deep moan mixed in. "Having your jaw broken for speaking his name is the normal punishment from lord Muzan, since you're a demon and it'd grow back." Kokushibou grinds himself against, letting go of your hair and placing his hand on your tit.

"However, I have my own punishment. Just for you." Kokushibo's breaths become heavy, feeling himself get into heat, and he whispered in your ear.

"A punishment where you'll never remember to say his name and only mine. You belong to me, my pretty demon~"

Douma

His "church" wasn't a church at all. You made the dumbest mistake to have even joined this religious cult. Your "savor", the one who saved you that day from eating eaten like an animal from a group of demons and showing you such kindness was just a cover-up for his true identity, which was a man-eating demon and not just any demon, the 2nd highest rank in 12 strong demons led by an even more powerful demon. The realization sunk in, and you made an ever worse choice than the first one.

You wanted to escape. You wanted out. You thought you planned your escape for a week, asking around what Douma's schedule was like so you knew the perfect days on when to leave, but that back fired on you. When you noticed nobody outside the temple, keeping guard and, of course, no sight of douma, you made a run for it.

You felt relieved. No one was there to stop you until a dark figure appeared from the shadows and snatched you up like you weighed nothing. "I caught you! You sure ran fast. Are you sure you weren't a demon slayer before you came to my temple?" Douma said, smiling from ear to ear.

You tried to catch your breath from running up, but your breath quickly turned into a panic. Douma frowned for a moment, "Oh you poor thing. Don't be scared. We'll get you back to the temple so you can rest for the night," Douma said. With such fake empathy in his tone, it almost sounded sarcastic.

Douma continues to hold your body off the ground in a bear like hug. His muscles flexed to hold you firmly so you couldn't escape. However, looking at Douma more closely, you noticed changes about him. His teeth looked more like fangs. His body against yours felt so cold, almost like he was dead and worst of all. He had "upper 2" written in his eyes. Was this a demon's technique? How was he able to hide these features on him so well around his cult members.

"I don't want to go back!" Your voice trembled. You tried to speak soft, but the panic got to you. Douma only just smiled, speaking in his cheerful voice. "If you're worried about being eaten alive, don't worry, you aren't my type of woman to eat, but you are my type of woman to be around. So I will be keeping you since you asked for my help to save you from those demons that day, so it only makes sense for us to stay together." Douma chuckled.

"What??" You sighed, looking at Douma with worry, fear, and confusion. "I don't belong to you, so let me go!" You hit Douma, but you knew your strengths was no where near compared to his. Douma places his hand on the back of your head, making your rest your chin on his shoulder while he embraces you more and nuzzling his face to your neck, taking in your scent.

"You still don't get it y/n? You're mine. I'm going to keep you until your time as a human is up." Douma said, throwing you over his shoulder and began to walk back to the temple.

"You belong to me and me alone~"

Muzan

2 years had passed since you were kidnapping, and you were finally back and safe with your family. Although your kidnapper, known as the most powerful demon, kidnapped you was bad, he could've been a lot worse. So you like to think of it that way. He could dispose of you at any moment, even when you couldn't help him find the blue spider lily, but he didn't.

You're family for owning a flower company, educated on flowers even so that's the main reason why Muzan took you but he let you go when you were of no use to him anymore. The bond you had with Muzan wasn't always about his work. There was soft intimate moments between you two but you knew not to get your hopes up since in the end, your knowledge wasn't all that useful and he let you leave, putting his work before you.

Your life continued to move forward, and eventually, you had an arranged marriage. A soon to be husband for you. He wasn't bad. He did promise to treat you right, give you his money and etc but deep down, you knew you couldn't love this man but went along with it for the benefits and your familes sake.

The wedding took place during the night. Your in-laws thought it would be a great idea to see how lovely your wedding dress would look in the moonlight. You asked to be alone in the fitting room, and you turned off the lights. Despite being human, you've gown accustomed to the dark and toy opened the window, feeling the night's breeze. Your hands slide down your sides to your hips, and you smile at yourself in the mirror, seeing just how gorgeous you look.

"You look stunning, my dear. They were right. The way the moonlight shines on that beautiful dress is just Devine," a deep familiar voice said. You gasped and turned your head to the window and saw Muzan, sitting in the edge and watching his glowing red eyes trace every inch of your body and even smirking at how the dress hugs your hips and holds up your tits perfect.

"Why are you... h-how did you find me?" You stepped back. Muzan came into your fitting room further and made his way towards you. Your body froze, but your eyes softened once you felt his hand on your cheek. His hand was so cold. "Do you think I'd let just anyone actually go?" Muzan bluntly said. That line alone confirmed your thoughts from a year ago. You weren't actually free, and like you predicted, Muzan would come back to you. However, it wouldn't be for the reason you think.

"I don't have any more knowledge on the spider lily. Even after you let me go, I couldn't find it." You explained to Muzan, but he only grinned. "I have upper ranks to do the job much better and faster than you," He said. His words cut a bit deep since you used as much energy as you could've helped him before. "But you can be useful to me in... other ways," Muzan said as his eyes gestured to your body and then looked back at your face.

It's like the old feelings came rushing back. In your own sick way, you missed this man. Muzan is the worst, curel and dangerous man-eating demon you could've ever met. Yet you knew leaving with him was a choice you had to make now. Your mind snaps out of it once you head a knock at the door. You and Muzan look at the door and hear a woman's voice on the other side.

"Um, y/n? Are you almost done?" One of your maid of honors asked through the door. "Yes, im-" you paused. Your eyes look down to see Muzan's hand slide on your hip and even slide his hand down lower, just like how he used to, but you stopped him. "I'll be right out. Just give me a minute," you say in a worry, and then look at Muzan, his lips inches away from yours, and you spoke quietly.

"You can come by tomorrow night, and we'll talk about this. You came at such an odd time. " You rolled your eyes halfway, trying not to let all these emotions cloud you. You turned around, but the second you did, Muzan had grabbed the back of your neck, making you gasp as he pulled you back to face him. "Mm.." Muzan brought you into a heated kiss, making you stumble back and sit in the mini table in your changing room.

"Y/n!?" Your maid of honor placed her ear on the door after hearing a thund sound. "If you think for a moment I'd let you have some random mam in bed with you, then you're more stupid than I thought," Muzan said as his jaw tensed. You pant as you feel his fingers press into your neck and you placed your hands on his chest for some kind of support.

"You belong to me, and I'm taking you back. The connection we share won't ever disappear, so don't think for a second it will," Muzan said, pulling you into another kiss. This time, you kissed him back. His words may not have been the sweetest, but you understood them. He wanted you, and you wanted him. He pulled away once he heard hard banging on the door.

"Let's go," you said, lifting up your dress, not hesitating for a moment about leaving. Muzan had picked you up, and you heard a biwa sound, transporting you to Muzan's room in an instant. Muzan, put you down. His hands made their way to your body, with one hand on your ass and the other playing with the zipper on your wedding dress.

He smirked at you, letting out a dark chuckle. "Now. Won't you let me give you that wedding night you deserve to have"

[neverendingford]

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