Palaye Royale x Reader

You're Safe Now (Emerson x Female Reader)

she/her pronouns used

includes: ageplay; use of pacifiers, bottles, stuffed animals, sippy cups, and baby toys; mdlb (mommy dom/little boy); mentions of abuse; "little" emerson, "mommy" reader

if you don't like that type of stuff, leave and go read my other shorts.

  (Your name's) Point of View
  Now that we actually have a tour bus, it makes traveling a lot easier. Emerson has more room to play and we have more room to bring more toys along, which I'm sure Emerson is enjoying. He's seemed much happier, but today he's been a little upset.
  Emerson won't let anybody but me even get within 3 feet of him, which is hard to avoid when you're confined to a small area. It's not like the bus was huge. Maybe he was just having a bad day, we all partied a bit too hard last night. He can't handle hangovers in his little space.
  I sit by him and pull him close. "Hey, baby. Are you okay?" I ask. "I otay. Jus' feewin bit bleh." He replies with a small shrug. "Okay, little one. Please be nice to everybody, just because you're feeling icky doesn't mean I'm going to let you get away with being mean. Okay?" I say, gently taking his hand. "Otay, Mommy. Wuv 'ou." He says, gently kissing my cheek. "Good boy." I kiss his nose and get up, sitting back down. I'm the tour manager for this tour, so I have to do the managing stuff, and in this case it's paperwork.
  However, I'm distracted by Remington yelling, "Ow, what the fuck, Emerson!" and I'm not very happy with what I see. Emerson is trying to bite Remington and had hit Rem's leg. I stand up. "Emerson Barrett, let go of him right now!" I don't yell, it's more of a firm voice rather than a straight up yell. I wind up having to pull him off. Remington walks off, knowing that I'll probably have to punish him. "Didn't I tell you to be good?" I ask, pulling him up. Emerson nods. "So why weren't you good?" I ask. Emerson lets out a soft whimper. "W-Wanted to be awone..." he whispers. "Yeah, I think that's best."
  I gently lead him to the area of the bus where the bunks are and stand back, watching him get into his bunk. I lead over. So I can see him. "You're gonna spend some time alone that'll hopefully teach you how to behave." I say, keeping my stern composure. I can't stand it when Emerson cries, and his cheeks are soaked with tears. However, I push his paci into his mouth, which barely helps. As I turn to walk away, Emerson tries to tug on my shirt, which I don't acknowledge. "M-Mama!" He calls. I feel a slight pang of guilt in my chest, but I don't turn back to him.
  I sit on the small couch in the main area of the bus, sighing heavily. After about 5 minutes, Emerson crawls out to me. "Mommy..." he says, reaching up for me. "Back to bed, now." I order. "No!" Emerson cries. "Did you just tell me no?" I ask. "Fuck chu."
  "Emerson! I swear..." I mutter that last part. I walk over to him and pull him up, placing him in bed. "Stay right there."
  And he stays.
  But I hear him crying, and I can't take it for more than 15 minutes. I crawl into bed with him and pull him close. "Hey, baby. Can you tell Mama what's wrong?" I ask. "I-I... I been thinking of... her... all day..." he whispers. By her he means his ex. That pitiful excuse for a woman who hury my little boy. "You're safe now, I promise. Mommy is gonna protect you." I whisper. I wipe Emerson's tears away from his cheeks. "So how about we go on a little date so I can spoil the shit outta my baby?" I ask with a smile.
  Emerson smiles through his pacifier and giggles, nodding eagerly. I can't help but smile at how cute he is.