I write fic for Emily Prentiss - check it out under the cut 😚
Emily Prentiss
Series:
Secrets of the West Wing
Wattpad | Tumblr | Ao3 | Complete
Summary: Reader has just been elected President of the United States and Emily Prentiss is head of her Secret Service detail. How will the two navigate the balance between the boundaries their professional relationship dictates and the love in their hearts?
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader
Tastes Like Sugar
Wattpad | Tumblr | Ao3 | Ongoing
Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades. Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune. The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend. As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur. But money can't buy love, right? A slowburn romance.
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x OC
The Sun and Her Scorched Earth
Wattpad | Tumblr | Ao3 | Ongoing
Summary: Moving to a new city can be difficult. Finding like-minded people even harder. What happens when you find an intriguing, domineering woman in a BDSM club? What will your relationship turn into? And will it always feel this good?
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader; Emily Prentiss x Y/N; Emily x BIPOC! reader
Contaminated Series
Tumblr | Complete
Summary: Emily and JJ's marriage is in shambles, so Emily turns to an unlikely source of comfort: her student. To add gasoline to the fire, Emily starts an affair. A songfic inspired by Contaminated by BANKS.
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x OC; Emily Prentiss x Jennifer "JJ" Jareau
Oneshots:
What Happens in Vegas
Wattpad | Tumblr | Ao3 | Complete
Summary: Filler between Ep. 4x6 and 4x7 - Emily's night in Vegas
Sacred and Sanguine
Tumblr | Complete
Summary: Sometimes the holiest sacrament is pure sin. A continuation of Blood and Blasphemy by @writingquillsandpainpills
Hallucinate
Wattpad | Tumblr | Complete
Summary: Reader is a school teacher grieving over Emily's death. Inspired by "Hello" by Evanescence.
Heaven
Wattpad | Tumblr | Complete
Summary: Part 2 of Hallucinate. Inspired by "I Miss You" by Adele.
Tease
Wattpad | Ao3 | Tumblr | Complete
Summary: Emily gets called away on a case leaving you home alone and wanting. You decide to get her attention any way you can.
Chlorine Kisses
Wattpad | Ao3 | Tumblr | Complete
Summary: After a long day, Emily finds a way to relax in the hotel's hot tub.
The Final Sacrament
Tumblr | Complete
Summary: After Henry's baptism, Derek and Emily struggle to work through their religious trauma. Emily struggles with her sexuality, her previous abortion, and her desire to be a mom. Derek struggles with the loss of his father and his past sexual assault. Platonic Demily.
Elle Greenaway
Oneshots:
Hate To Love You
Tumblr | Ao3 | Complete
Summary: You are a new BAU member and are fast friends with everyone on the team except a certain brunette you just can't connect with. Ambivalence turns to hatred, but all that passion has to come out somehow.
Pairing: Elle x Reader; Elle x y/n; Elle x GN!reader
yeah all my posts actually have hundreds of notes you just can't see them. people are laughing and calling me so funny and pretty and smart in the tags but you just cant see it. but it's happening i promise
would you rather have a (in the size of 4inx6in/10.16cmx15.34cm) print with a 1/2” + 1/3” white boarder without any image cropping or would you rather have it without a white boarder but has been cropped to fit? like so:
(image grid represents inches) each prints’ physical dimensions will stay 4x6, but the image inside of the one with the boarder will be 3x5.3 (this is the style of print that INPRNT offers & would match prints from there)
Guys I was GIDDY with excitement when I realized the stick is how they figure out the standing-up perspective!!! I always figured people doing this stuff just had magical perspective powers but that makes SO MUCH SENSE what a cool tool!!! Amazing job!
Summary: Moving to a new city can be difficult. Finding like-minded people even harder. What happens when you find an intriguing, domineering woman in a BDSM club? What will your relationship turn into? And will it always feel this good?
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader; Emily Prentiss x Y/N
After Penelope's stunt in the kitchen, embarrassment colored your cheeks whenever you saw Emily and Penelope around. That conversation constantly replayed in your head. For the first two days after that fateful afternoon in the kitchen, you wondered if Emily would corner you somewhere in the BAU to talk about it. She would have had every right to ask you what the hell you were doing telling her things like that. Mortified, you'd lay awake at night and wonder why you had let yourself give so much away to Emily. It was embarrassing to end things and then not move on. It was shameful to still be so hung up on her. But even worse than that was knowing she knew you hadn't moved on. You had wanted to keep it to yourself, but like always, you weren't capable of lying to her.
But after days passed and still she hadn't brought it up, you wondered what she was thinking, or if you even crossed her mind at all. By the third day, you wondered if you'd been paranoid about her reading you so well. After all, Penelope hadn't been the wiser. Maybe Emily hadn't picked up on what you thought you had conveyed. Maybe you hid more in your eyes than you had thought. Because even two weeks and one case later, still Emily had said nothing.
You groaned as you flopped back in bed, thankful to be back home. How many days could you waste worrying over that interaction in the kitchen? How many nights could you waste wishing you were in Emily's bed? It was pathetic. It was time to move on and deal with the consequences of your decision to end things with Emily. Some way you were going to take your mind off of her. Some way, or with someone.
Enough was enough. You were going out tonight.
As you marched over to the closet, you sent a silent prayer to the Gods that Hotch had given you a long weekend to rest between cases. He had given strict orders to the team to not return to work until Tuesday morning, and you were going to make the most of this Saturday night. You needed a palate cleanser, just like Ellie said, and tonight was the night you were getting underneath someone so you could get over Emily.
You left your hair wild and natural, curls billowing around your face. You brushed eye shadow around your eyes, smoking a sultry line outwards. Like a teen romcom montage, clothes flew around your room as you tried to find the best outfit to turn heads. When you finally landed on the perfect outfit, you scooped up the discarded choices and shoved them in your closet, not bothering to hang them up. While normally you would have left them scattered around the room, you were hoping someone would be coming home with you tonight. But you were eager to get out, so you threw them in your closet – no organization, to hell with wrinkles – and closed the door on the mess.
You pulled your boots on over your tights, grabbed your clutch, and paused when you grabbed your keys. Looking to the floor length mirror next to you, a sultry sight reflected back: wild hair, shortest mini skirt, corset pushing a full chest up further. You briefly wondered if you looked too slutty. After a moment's hesitation, anger fluttered in your stomach. You were allowed to go out and move on. Emily was nothing special; you would prove that tonight. Before you could question yourself again, you turned and walked out the door.
You sat in your car with the Maps app open on your phone. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you went to type in the name of the bar where you had met Emily. Memories of that quiet, intimate bar hurt. You imagined Emily watching some young thing – head low, staring at her drink – with a predatory glint in her eyes. You imagined her effortlessly sliding out of her chair to move closer to the girl that had once been you. Long, lean legs in a black suit would saunter over to a some undeserving girl that didn't know what was coming for her.
"I haven't seen you around here," she would say. Just as she had to you.
You had just been another playmate for her, a toy for her to use. It was no wonder she hadn't been any different at work. It was why you had broken things off in the first place. It had become far more for you than it had ever been to her. You were replaceable to her. That was why she was doing exactly what you feared most: picking up some new, naive thing at the bar and changing her life just like she had yours.
Swiping out of Maps, you opened your texts to ask Ellie for a club recommendation. Within seconds, she had sent you a "fun, loud, queer-friendly" club. She quickly followed up with, "Doesn't seem like your scene though…Does this mean you're taking my advice? ;)" You ignored her and typed in the address, pulled out of your parking lot, and rushed to the club she had suggested.
You walked in the club and all thoughts of Emily's bar were drowned out by the roar of the dance music blaring from the speakers overhead. Making you feel stilted and uncoordinated, colored lights flashed around. You felt out of place, out of touch. You didn't belong here.
When you got to the club, you made a beeline for the bar and immediately downed three shots. Though it had only been a few months of Emily, you had grown incredibly comfortable together. You weren't certain how easy it would be to fall into bed with a stranger again. Emily knew exactly what you liked, what you sounded like, what you looked like. She was familiar and comfortable. Could you build that up with a stranger like you had before?
Steeling yourself, you reminded yourself that Emily had once been a stranger – you had done this before, and you could do it again. A pang of longing settled in your stomach as you turned your back on the bartender to face the throng of potential hookups. This club could not have been more different from the bar where you had found Emily. A mass of bodies moved together, one huge block of people jumping and writhing and moving in time with the beat. You fidgeted with the strap of your clutch, nervous to enter that swarm. At Emily's bar, there were no overwhelming crowds, only soft, intimate touches and low conversation.
With your thoughts running wild, you figured the best way to slow them was with the distraction you had set out to find tonight. You slinked between bodies, worming your way to the middle of the dance floor. Slowly, you started moving in time with the music as if dancing were a foreign activity to you. But as the alcohol started taking effect, you gradually loosened up.
The loud, pounding beat pushed all thought from your head. And as if the universe knew you were ready, two, small hands slid around your waist from behind. You looked over your shoulder and saw a cute girl smiling behind you. You smirked back and let her pull you into her. Your ass settled against her front, and you started gyrating together in time with the music.
As the DJ transitioned one song into the next, her hands started roaming over your body more and more. You leaned back into her, willing her touch to ignite something in you. After several minutes of dancing, her touch started to crack at the hollow ache of loneliness Emily had left behind. You turned in her arms, and before you could second guess yourself, you pressed your lips to hers. She kissed you back with enthusiasm, hands pulling you impossibly closer. Your sweaty skin stuck together, and her tongue slipped inside your mouth.
Time ticked by as you waited for the electricity to light your skin. When the familiar hum of desire did not set you on fire, you reasoned that maybe Emily's addicting pull was because you had shared a bed together. You pulled back to ask if she would be willing to come home with you later tonight. But when you opened your eyes to really look at her, shock socked you in the gut. Deep brown eyes gazed down at you. Her eyes reflected the red and blue lights around you and the sexual desire she obviously felt. As she stood there smiling down at you, it was evident she was oblivious to the turmoil coursing through you. How could it be that reminders of Emily plagued you at every turn?
She looked exactly like Emily. Jet black hair hung straight down her face, bangs framed her dark, sultry eyes, and her tongue swept over her full lips enticingly. She leaned down to kiss you again, but your heart wasn't in it. Her lips didn't form around yours the right way. Her tongue was too insistent. Her nose didn't bump against yours as she kissed you. And when she pulled back, her smile was nowhere near as radiant as the one you loved.
And suddenly you just knew she wouldn't fuck you right either.
You shouted an excuse about needing air in her ear before darting off like a coward. You elbowed your way between sweating bodies before finally moving off the dance floor. It was unfair how she still lingered on you. You leaned against the brick wall of the club's back patio, discreetly wiping the angry tears from your eyes. Why couldn't you just move on? How could she still hold this much power over you? Why did your body hold the memory of her touch so persistently?
Your fists clenched tightly at your sides. You could do this. You would go back in there and find the girl and finally move on from Emily. "You need a cigarette, honey?" a drag queen asked, holding a pack towards you.
"No thanks," you smiled ruefully, tears welling again at the kindness. You turned away, not caring that it was rude, and pulled your phone from your purse to give yourself something to do.
6 missed calls.
"Shit," you muttered. You pressed on Hotch's contact to call him back.
"Y/L/N," he said curtly.
"Sir."
"Can you get to Quantico in half an hour?"
Annoyance flared in you at the question. He had given the team a long weekend – you weren't required to think about work for three days straight. How could you be called back less than twenty-four hours later? "I guess," you muttered a tad too petulantly for a conversation with a boss.
"Good," he ignored your tone. "The rest of the team is almost here. We're waiting on you."
"Shit!" you exclaimed, hanging up. The last thing you wanted was the team waiting on you. Far too drunk to drive home, you called for an Uber, cursing yourself for not planning ahead when you had chosen to drive here. Thoughts raced through your head as you waited for your ride to pick you up. Though you were annoyed your night was cut short, you couldn't help but be a touch relieved that you had a legitimate excuse to not go home with the stand-in-Emily. You worried your car would be towed or stolen since you had to leave it downtown, but as you slipped in the backseat of your Uber, you realized you had no other choice but to leave it there.
"The FBI?" the Uber driver asked as you clicked your seatbelt into place. "Are you sure this is where you're going? I think you may have typed the address wrong."
"I didn't."
Above all other worries – about your car, the case, Emily – you wondered how the team would react when you showed up in the bullpen drunk and dressed like this. You didn't dare waste time going home to change first, and your go bag was sitting in your office. You'd have to sneak into the bullpen and change in your office. Hopefully before anyone saw you.
'If you're sure…" You smirked to yourself thinking about what the Uber driver must be thinking about picking someone up from the club and dropping them off at Quantico. You ignored him the rest of the drive, worried about how you could get to your office undetected.
When he pulled up as far as civilian cars could go, you slipped out with a quiet, "Thanks."
You walked up the long sidewalk and then nodded politely at the security officer who let you in. As the elevator ascended each floor, your heart rate climbed higher and higher. You solidified your game plan and repeated it in your head until the elevator dinged open and let you out in front of the BAU's glass doors. Slip in undetected. Don't get caught.
As luck would have it, you did not slip in unnoticed. The team huddled around Spencer's desk, likely awaiting your arrival. Rossi raised a brow, and
Derek whistled loudly as soon as his eyes landed on the strip of skin revealed between the top of your thigh high boots and the high hem of your skirt.
"I was not supposed to see you people tonight," you mumbled grumpily.
"And just what were you doing tonight, Mama?" Derek teased.
"I think it's fairly obvious what she was doing tonight, Morgan," Reid said matter-of-factly. Rossi stifled a chuckle, trying his hardest to be a gentleman.
The same could not be said for Derek. "Invite me next time."
"Not likely," you and Emily said in unison. You looked to her without thinking. Up until this point you had been purposefully avoiding her gaze. Your eyes dragged up her body in appreciation of her legs draped gracefully over the side of Spencer's desk as she perched on the edge. Skin tight jeans and a plain, black tank top. Casual, informal, nothing special. You tried not to get too hopeful that her outfit meant she had not been at the bar picking up a new sub. Of course, she had time to change, but you prayed she had just been at home. When your eyes made it to hers, a current buzzed over the surface of your skin – heady, intoxicating, electric. Before you were lost to the desire, you forced yourself to turn away.
Hotch walked down the steps from his office, go bag in hand, and stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing you, eyes wide.
"Y/N was clearly out having a good night," Derek smirked.
"I'm sorry, sir," you rushed. "We weren't supposed to be called in. My go bag was here." He stood impassively, saying nothing. "I can change now!" you nearly shouted in embarrassment.
Before you could turn to grab your clothes from your office, Hotch interrupted. "No time. We're going to debrief on the Carmichael case" – your eyebrows raised in surprise – "and then take off. You can change on the plane."
The team rushed to the round table room so you could present the case file. You had given this to Hotch on the plane ride home from the last case. You had thought it was urgent and wondered why he had given a long weekend when this case was still open. His urgency now suggested he had finally read the case file and agreed with your assessment of the case, his promised weekend long forgotten.
Though you were annoyed to have your weekend interrupted, you were thankful Hotch had agreed this case was urgent. You really should have left twelve hours ago, and you worried that it might be too late. You would not be surprised if you arrived in California to additional bodies. This unsub was devolving faster than you had seen before.
All eyes on you, you stood up in front of the team to start the case presentation and felt naked. The lace of your corset left very little to the imagination as did your skirt. Thoughts muddled by alcohol and Emily's heavy gaze, you tried to focus on the case, but your thoughts constantly returned to working through why Emily was looking at you like that.
You wrapped your arms around your torso in a futile attempt to cover yourself up. Before you could really get started, Hotch stood up and whipped his jacket off and wrapped it around you. You smiled ruefully, but pulled it around you, grateful. You sped through a case presentation, not even bothering to turn the TV on to show the photos. You hit the highlights so you all had a baseline to deal with.
"Wheels up." The team jumped up, collecting their case files and go bags. As they filed out of the room, you could feel Emily's eyes lingering on you as you gathered all the case information, placing your notes back in order.
She waited until everyone else had left the room before she whispered, "Did you have fun tonight?"
Voice bitter, you responded, "No." Why lie? Drunk and filter gone, you continued. "You've ruined me for anyone else."
She walked around the table and stood right in front of you. Your breath hitched at the lust in her eyes. "That's right, Y/N," she cooed. Your stomach flipped at her tone. Were you just reading into things? Did alcohol make you delusionally hopeful? "No one fucks you like I do, is that it? You miss me, baby? Need Mommy to show you how good it can be again?"
Your eyes closed involuntarily, your breathing rapid – you couldn't help your body's reaction to her. You wanted her. She was right, of course she was right: you needed her to fuck you. But it hurt to hear her talk like that because she only wanted your body. She was only interested in what she could use of you. And it hurt because you wanted so much more from her. You desperately wished you could get your body on the same page as your brain; you wished you didn't want her like that anymore.
But there was no question: you wanted her just as badly as you had that first night. Your heart raced as you opened your eyes and saw hers looking down at you as if nothing had changed at all. Though the lighting was different, you couldn't help but remember how you had been in this exact position one hour ago. Except this time, the eyes staring down at you were right. The way she licked her lips fluttered your tummy in desire. And you didn't need to wonder if she'd fuck you right; you knew.
You licked your lips in an effort to subdue your desire. Her fingers tugged on the lapel of Hotch's jacket. "Em-"
"Y/L/N! Prentiss! Let's head to the airstrip!" Hotch yelled from across the bullpen. You could have killed him for interrupting your moment, but with the magic broken, your hostility quickly turned to gratitude. Had you really been ready to let her splay you out on the round table and fuck you into oblivion?
The magnetism that connected you to her pulled at you as you turned your back on her and exited the conference room. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, as is if they too protested leaving her behind. Without looking at the rest of the team, you walked out, grabbed your go bag, and scurried off to the airstrip. There was safety in numbers.
Once on the jet, you handed Hotch his suit jacket back and headed to the bathroom to change. In front of the tiny jet bathroom mirror, you tried to smooth your wild hair into a professional bun at the nape of your neck. But like your attraction to Emily, your hair had a life of its own and refused to follow directions. Curls still fell around your face, refusing to be tamed.
Giving up on achieving the sleek bun you had hoped for, you stared at yourself in the mirror and willed yourself to sober up before you landed. How could you be expected to step in front of a camera like this? Embarrassment and leftover desire stained your cheeks. Flushed, untamed, and hot, you looked a mess. You splashed cold water over your cheeks to cool yourself down. You scrubbed at the smoky eyeliner around your eyes, trying to wash it into something a bit more professional. After several minutes, you washed the girl you had pretended to be tonight down the drain and re-emerged more yourself.
When you exited the small bathroom and made your way back out to the team, Emily handed you a cup of coffee. You smiled gratefully and took the cup from her, ignoring the spark you felt as her fingers purposefully brushed yours. You sat across from her and stared wordlessly at her as you sipped the coffee. She stared back. No words. Tension mounted between you as her deep, brown eyes bored into you, coiling something tight inside you. You should have looked away – you willed yourself to look away. But you were powerless to her spell, and so you remained in her clutches. You just wished you were more skilled at reading people so you could understand what she was thinking. But, as always, Emily was elusive, remaining just out of your reach.
in the absence of ao3 I think we should go become tattoo artists, flowershop owners, students, members of a band, long term rivals, coworkers, or get selected for a politically advantageous arranged marriage.
