Got a new Unicorn dildo (by Creature Cocks) on lovehoney recently. Just had a chance to use it for the first time today. Turned out to be larger than I thought 😅
So this is me, fighting to take in as much as I can and stuff myself stupid in the process. I only managed it half way and already felt like I was being speared through... in the best possible way 🥴🥴🥴
Highly recommend. The ridges feel 🎆amazing🎆, it's a super soft (but still hard!!!) bendy silicone material, so absolutely no internal damage whatsoever. I felt so so so full, I couldn't even clench around it as I orgasmed, which made it last longer and if felt more intense. When I pulled it out in the end, it made my stomach flip, which you can hear in my very undignified squeal. But if any of you are looking for a new toy for the arsenal, this is an excellent choice!!!
She’s old money but subtle about it. The Prentiss estate, the diplomatic trust funds, the Swiss accounts? You’d never know unless you looked too closely… or saw the custom Cartier bracelet she slid onto your wrist just because it was Tuesday.
She's not flashy. But everything she touches is top shelf. Her suits? Tailored. Her watch? Vintage and stupid expensive. Her perfume? Smells like old libraries, bergamot, and control.
You so much as look at something in a store window and she’s already walking in to buy it.
You: “Oh my god, that bag is so cute.”
Emily: “Do you want it in black or red, baby?”
You: “...I was just looking.”
Emily: hands the sales associate her AmEx without breaking eye contact “Both, then.”
She tips waiters in triple digits and has never looked at a receipt in her life.
You’re trying to add up groceries and she’s already swiping the card and pulling you away.
“Stop doing math. You’re pretty. Let me take care of it.”
Her car?
German. Black. Smooth. Smells like leather and her cologne. Heated seats. Always stocked with mints, lip gloss, and those soft expensive tissues.
You once mentioned you liked one of the throw blankets in her backseat and now there's a matching one at the foot of your bed at home.
She gets off on taking care of you.
Like. Visibly smug.
She sees you curled up in her shirt, scrolling on your phone, sipping the fancy drink she brought you while she finishes work emails — and she smirks, like, “Yeah. That’s mine.”
When you’re out together?
You order something cheap. She upgrades it.
You say, “I can pay—”
She kisses your cheek and goes, “Don’t make me scold you in front of the waiter.”
And oh, she spoils you at home too.
Bubble baths run for you. Champagne chilling in the fridge.
A closet she had built just for your clothes — and it’s already half full because she “couldn’t resist” picking up a few things she thought you’d look pretty in.
You: “You’re going to ruin me.”
Emily, handing you another box: “Good.”
She LOVES when you play up the spoiled princess act.
You pout. She coos.
You say, “Em, I’m out of gloss,”
She’s already opening her wallet and tilting her head, like, “That’s a crisis. We should fix that immediately.”
And don’t even THINK about paying for dinner.
You: “Let me just get my card—”
Emily: gently but firmly sliding the bill out of reach “You’re not allowed to pay with your own money. You're far too pretty for that.”
NSFW VERSION!
She calls you "princess" in the same voice she uses to order $500 wine at dinner. Smooth. Controlled. Lazy with power. And you melt.
Especially when it’s followed by:
“Take your panties off. Now.”
Emily likes you in lace.
Black, sheer, expensive. She buys it for you. She peels it off you.
You’re not even fully undressed and she’s already got you gasping.
She’s slow. Teasing. Controlling.
One hand at your throat, the other trailing down, just barely touching —
“You’ll come when I say. Not a second before.”
She treats sex the same way she treats money: with abundance.
You want one orgasm? That’s cute. She’ll give you four.
You want her tongue? Her fingers? Her thigh between your legs while she whispers filthy praise in your ear?
Baby, you have it all.
And then some.
She’s obsessed with the way you sound when you beg.
“Please, mommy,”
“I’ll be good,”
“Just one more,”
And she smiles, smug and warm, brushing your hair back while you're trembling.
“That’s what I thought. You sound so sweet when you remember who takes care of you.”
If you act up?
If you’re a brat about something — teasing her in public, pouting because she wouldn’t let you come earlier —
Emily handles it.
Bent over the desk. One hand between your thighs. Her voice in your ear, low and dark:
“You wanna act spoiled? I’ll treat you like it. Cry for it, princess.”
She loves it when you can’t even stand after.
You're wobbly, legs jelly, blinking up at her like you’ve been wrecked.
She helps you into one of her shirts. Runs a bath. Carries you if she needs to.
“There we go. My perfect little thing.”
She buys you a toy once. Remote-controlled.
Wears the controller to dinner.
You try to behave. Try to smile through dessert. But she’s got you twitching in your seat, trying to hide your moans behind your wine glass.
And she just raises an eyebrow across the table, smirking.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?”
And the praise? The way she talks to you during?
It’s lethal.
“So good for me,”
“You take it so well,”
“You’re mine. You know that? Mine to spoil, mine to ruin, mine to fuck.”
And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
You’re hers.
Completely, deliciously, decadently hers.
Tags: assistant!reader, uc!emily, established relationship (hooray!!!), fluff, miiiildly suggestive, emily is touch starved, petnames, no use of yn
Summary: Emily fights for your attention.
Word count: 1.2k
assistant!reader masterlist
Emily Prentiss has a poorly hidden secret: she loves bugging you.
At work, you’re the one that’s all over her—bounding over with files, lavishing her with coffees and treats, lounging more than strictly necessary in her office. You’re as distracting as you are useful, and in neither case are you subtle. She only allows it in certain places, at certain times; you know those limits well, and you’re good at keeping them. For her, though, there are tighter restrictions. Lines she rarely allows herself to cross.
But in your shared apartment, she can’t stray two inches from you. The expanse of your skin needs, simply, to be touched. Her arms often want for a place to rest, and where else should they other than in the dips of your waist or along your shoulders? She’s often interrupting a mundane task of yours to paw out some affection. Magnets are lined neatly along the length of each of her bones, and every one of them hums for you.
She’s buzzing now, with the apartment cloaked in silence for longer than she can bear. When she thinks she’s about to go crazy, she hears the bathroom door crack open and shut. She pads to your bedroom to the sound of your light humming, aimless and soothing.
Emily doesn’t think twice about walking in. Your shower had already lasted long enough.
“I was thinking,” you begin, sensing her without turning from the mirror as you dab serum onto your face—“it came to me in the shower, out of nowhere. It’s really true what they say about shower thoughts, you know—I mean, what is it about that place that just gets your head turning? I’d say it’s the steam, but I’m not nearly as contemplative in a sauna. Do you think it’s the solitude? Or maybe the feeling of the water beating down on you.”
Every word slips into Emily’s ears like softened velvet, a soothing spiel that goes out as quickly as it came in. “Mhm.” She replies. Sidestepping the chair you’re ignoring in favor of bending over the vanity table, she slots in behind you, nuzzling her lips into your jaw. Damp strands of your hair cool her cheek.
“You think? There’s gotta be some science behind it.”
Your voice rumbles sweetly under your skin. Emily tastes it.
“Sure, babe.”
Her hands circle your waist, squeezing, tugging you flush into her chest. You go on talking, about what god only knows, the beat of your timbre gentle on her ears as she finds the slit in your robe and kneads her fingers into the softness she finds there. Usually she’s attentive, she is. Now there’s a bit more to occupy her thoughts.
Her eyes find the mirror. You’re now swiping pale dollops of lotion on your cheeks, spreading them in with small circular motions. Emily plants open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, faintly tasting soap, humming into it when you pause to take in a breath. She feels it pass through you—under her lips, her hands. Your stomach hollows out then fills her palms, silk soft. Her own skin begins to heat.
There’s too much sensory input; you start to lather on some body oil that’s specifically designed to unplug the wires in her brain—wires already fried from the sweetly bitter floral on her tongue, the hidden beads of water that dampen her fingertips as she trails them along curves and folds. She has to let your words blur or else there’s a strong possibility she’ll pass out from the overload.
She can’t help herself. There’s the barest graze of teeth, the bite of her nails into your flesh, knuckles skimming over and under familiar planes.
You begin to notice. You’re not dumb and she’s not subtle, and—even better yet—you’re starting to succumb. Falter without feeling it. Tilting your neck to give her space, straightening your spine to inch back into her front. Your eye cream lays open on the vanity, untouched.
“Are you even listening?”
“No.” Her hand finds a warm, round swell. She skims lightly with her thumb and your inhale is stilted, music in her ears.
“That’s rude.” You murmur, your eyes meeting in the mirror. The sides of your robe are held together with little more than hopes and prayers now.
“I know, baby, sorry. You were taking forever in there.”
“It’s my everything shower day.” You say, a little pouty. Emily’s heart presses against your back.
“Right.” The skin she finds next is shiny with some lotion or the other. “That’s the one with the…mm, tell me what was it again?”
“Scrub, body mousse, hair mask,” you list off. “It’s in the name, Emily, everything—”
You gasp when she sits down onto the chair with both arms firm around your middle, tugging you with her. You fall back onto her lap with an oof. She turns you around, hands guiding and manipulating until your knees part around her waist, robe-clad chest pressing against hers.
You blink a few times, lips parted. The robe slips perilously down your shoulder. Emily is smiling as she carefully cups your freshly moisturized jaw, tilting until she can steal a kiss. It tastes faintly like toothpaste, your usual preferred cherry absent at the moment.
“Hi.” She murmurs, her other hand trailing down your side and firmly gripping to keep you stable. You’re not shy, but you gather your robe at the edges, a feat that proves useless at your knees with her waist slotted between them.
It’s still nice to see you fluster like this. You’ve spent so long throwing your affection at her, and she’s spent so long hiding hers from you, that sometimes it takes a while for you to realize just how much she wants you. How deep her longing for you goes.
“Hi.” You say haltingly, hesitant about wrapping the dampened material around her. She takes your arms and gently twines them around her back. You relax into her then, your eyes narrowing when she kisses you again, slower this time.
“What’s gotten into you?” You mumble, pupils widening to swallow your eyes in black.
“You.” Emily plants a singular kiss on the tip of your nose. It scrunches, and her chest warms. “Is that a problem?”
“No! I—uh. No.” You say again, quivering when her fingers skirt under your robe. “Definitely not. It’s just…” you bite your lip, groaning into an imitation of a kiss to her jaw. “I just showered, Emily…”
“Right, everything shower. Okay then, I’ll just—”
“Don’t you dare!” You snatch her hands back, shoving them through the part in your robe. “I don’t like a half-done job.”
Emily chuckles, low and rich. She feels the shiver through your body, right into her hands.
“You’re full of crap.” She murmurs.
“And you’re mean.” You sulk. “Always so mean to me—”
You don’t get to finish the sentence, because she shows you exactly just how nice she can be.
I was literally trying hold my moans and everything in but I just couldn’t… this was actually the first time that I kept going after cumming heheee so I guess I can call this a new achievement hihihiiiii🤭 had a really really hard time cumming after some time that’s why there were a lot of frustrated groans…whoopsie
