Emily Prentiss x Reader Oneshots

She's Calling Me Daddy (smut)

warnings: fem!reader called Princess, sweet girl, and pretty girl. dom!emily called Mistress and Daddy. strap-ons, praise kink, slight degradation, public teasing. 

A black leather jacket, a blood-red silk shirt dropped tantalizingly low over the swell of two round breasts, and black nim pants cinched tightly at the waist by a black leather belt slightly off-center, that was the outfit your wife chose to wear to tonight's party at the Rossi mansion. You could feel the liquid pooling under your tongue as your eyes traveled your partner's body. Dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, bangs fluffed over her forehead with perfect little shadows of pale skin peeking out in points. It was only when her hands rose to her hips and she cleared her throat that you were pulled from your trance.

"See something you like, Princess?" Emily asked, voice low and sultry.

You simply nodded and licked your lips, which Emily did not like.

"Speak when you're spoken to, Baby," Emily said, pinching your chin with her thumb and forefinger, lifting your eyes to meet hers.

"Yes. Yes, Mistress," you stuttered out, recognizing the dominance in Emily's demeanor this evening. "I'm sorry, Mistress. You look amazing."

A crooked smirk fell upon Emily's cheeks and she cocked an eyebrow.

"Good girl," Emily said, leaning in brush her red-painted lips against your ear and husk, "I hope you can remember your manners tonight, pretty girl. I want you to be good for me. I wouldn't want to have to punish you."

Emily's voice sent a rush of energy down your spine and you could feel heat pooling in the lacy panties she had set out for you earlier in the evening. And then, as if she had said nothing at all, Emily walked past you and into the foyer, grabbing both of your bags and the keys to her car. You turned slowly on her heels and she looked to you expectantly, the hints of a laugh tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Well, let's get a move on, love. Don't wanna be late."

Emily then exited your home, leaving the door cracked and walking into the connected garage, the car starting before you had the presence of mind to follow. As you climbed into the passenger seat of the car, you could feel the white fabric of your outfit ride up your thighs, exposing more of your soft skin. Emily had picked the entire ensemble for the evening and now you knew why. A firm, pale hand dropped from the steering wheel to rest on your thigh, her thumb drawing wide, warm circles underneath the hem.

"Em," you warned as her motions slowly traveled closer to your core.

Emily said, eyes not leaving the road in front of her. Fingers slowly flipped forward to burrow between your legs, gently rubbing up and down the fabric covering your center. A whimper escaped your lips as her motions became firmer and more teasing.

"I asked you a question," Emily said, moving her fingers to pinch at the skin of your thigh, making you squeak. You started to babble a little before answering.

"T-to be good," you stuttered out. Emily's hand was now rubbing soothing circles into the sore spot where she had just pinched, though not hard enough to leave a mark.

"That's right," Emily replied while grabbing one of your hands to bring to her lips, kissing a red lipstick mark below your knuckles. "Leave that there, sweetheart."

You looked down at the mark and sighed, it was going to be a long night.

"You have no intentions of making this easy for me tonight, do you?" you asked, reaching your hand to her lap to trail your fingers down the rough denim fabric on her thigh.