All links for AO3 X Most are angst/Emily Prentiss centric, so there'll be injuries, bravado, self doubt, scars, smoking, drinking, swearing+ talk of abortions. A lot of these are friendship style fics. I hope you enjoy xx
More
Even more. I'm so sorry
Last ones, I promise
ART ON REDBUBBLE!
Just Dirt In The Ground : Em struggles with the anniversary of her death. Angst. JJ friendship.
Moving On : 3 chapters of a 10 yr old Em and the effects of moving around as a child. 1 chapter at 15 when she has lost herself. Angst; lewd behaviour; Matt Benton; John Cooley
Coming Clean : IF Em told the team about Ian, she might have done it like this. Angst. Rossi, Hotch.
Lungs Of The Earth : Some humour. Team chase an unsub through the woods. Multiple POV.
New Beginnings : Emily becomes chief. Rossi, Hotch.
When Nightmares Return : Askari kidnaps JJ's son. Can Em save them? Angst, torture, SA. JJ, Hotch, Will. 4 chapters.
Sin : Matt Benton helps Em through the very worst time in her life. Can she be there for his? Angst, drugs, sex, abortion, OD, bad parents.
Shellshock : Slight diversion from 'Run'. Em has concussion as she tries to save Will. Angst, bombs. Team dynamic.
Cold Pizza : Hotch brigs Em home for some TLC post Doyle arc. Friendship. Angst, memories.
Life Is Very Long When You're Lonely : Em feels very alone after Paris and seeks out Rossi. Angst, bleak, friendship.
Quicksand : Em is gravely injured in the field. Injury, blood. Luke, Rossi.
Eggs : Teen Em gets very drunk. Did she do something bad? Hotch knows. Friendship.
Don't Leave Me Alone : Those first, awful days in Paris. Angst, scars. JJ friendship.
Mom : Emily tries to explain why she isn't actually dead. Angst. Elizabeth P.
Weight : Demonology. Em worries that she let Matt down. Angst, abortion, Rossi friendship.
What's Inside : 9 year old Em finds magic. Fluff. Yes, fluff. No angst.
Hero : Em reflects on her past as she awaits rescue. Kidnapping, reminiscing, threat. Ian Doyle.
Reunion : Now Scratch is dead, an old friend can return. Hotch, Rossi. Friendship, humour.
Remember Me? : 4 chapters. Derek and Em are kidnapped. Torture, blood, talk of SA, violence.
Parallels : Tiny piece written from an image I saw of CME. Rossi, friendship, bereavement.
Surrogate Sisters : 4 mini JJ/Em friendship fics moving through the series. Some angst, scars, humour.
Poison Ivy Ya Come Creepin' : Humour. Em gets stung. Swearing. Rossi.
Clueless Babysitter's Club : Penelope and Em are the WORST babysitters. Humour.
Trust : Em is back from Paris - but not all Agents trust her. Heavy angst. Slut shaming, self doubt. Hotch friendship. Nasty agents. Boo.
A Better Life : Em and Andrew adopt. 5 chapters. Angst and fluff.
Whole Again : Rossi makes Em feel good in her first day as chief. Friendship.
Butterflies : Filler fic on how Em spent those first days grounded at the BAU.
Opening Up : Andrew asks Em about her scars. Fluff, injury, scars.
Option A : What if the team DIDN'T fake Em's death? Angst. Ian Doyle.
A Dish Best Served Cold : I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. Ep 300 SHOULD HAVE BEEN A PRENTISS EP!! So now it friggin' well is. Angst. Reid.
Medals : Em gets an award, but it doesn't make her happy. Rossi. Angst. Stephen Walker death.
Loving/Loved : 2 chapters. Em visits Declan. Angst, fluff. Doyle.
Compartments : Returning from Paris, Em must face Ian again. Angst, fear, injury. Hotch, Declan, Doyle.
Coming To ; Em comes out of her coma alone. Bleak. Post Doyle. Injury, angst. Hotch, JJ.
Damage Limitations : Em tries to help Hotch deal with the spectre of Foyet. 'Haunted' ep. Friendship. Angst.
For Him ; short fic as Em fakes Declan's death.
Drinking Buddies; 3 chapters on Derek/Emily's friendship through the show. Drinking, humour, scars.
A Crack In The Past ; A case brings back memories for Em. Reflections of desire related. Torture, injury, war. Rossi friendship.
Dandy-Lion : Post Minimal Loss, Em turns to Spencer for comfort. PTSS, injury, fear, nightmares, comfort, friendship.
Growing Up : Teen Em makes a few decisions about her future. Hotch friendship.
Paternally Yours : 6 short fics on Rossi/Em's friendship through the years. Angst, humour, injury.
Desperately Seeking Emily : Heavy angst. Post Doyle. Emily is lost and Rossi tries to help. Angstangstangst, injury, shame, comfort.
The Promises I Make : JJ asks Em for a special favour. Fluff.
Boys Don't Cry ; Em interrogates a lad who reminds her of herself.
Scratches That Won't Heal : The after effects of Mr Scratch plague Em. Angst, PTSS, panic attacks. JJ friendship, ccomfort.
Becoming ; Emily is becoming Lauren. She IS Lauren. Angst. Doyle.
Pig Farming 101 : Humour. Derek, Penelope, Em.
Good Dog : 'Keeper' related. Em connects with Todd. Reid.
Facing It Together : JJ helps Em through a nightmare. Angst, injury, Doyle.
Shoulda Woulda Coulda ; 7 chapters, one for each team member, relating to how they cope with Em's death. Angst angst and a little more angst.
Motel : Em has a one night stand, but her scars are an issue. sex, scars, shame. Nothing too explicit.
The Day After ; Rossi talks with Em the day after Demonology. Angst, friendship.
Maths Is A Very Serious Topic ; Post Paris. Em and Derek tease Spencer. Humour.
Could I..? : Em has feels for Andrew. Injury, fluff.
Last To Leave : 9 year old Em wait in vain for her parents to collect her from school. Awful parents.
Check : Gideon weighs up the newest member of the team: Prentiss.
I Am... I Was.. ; Lauren Reynolds is dead, but not cold. Angst. Tsia.
Pennyroyal Tea : 3 chapters. Em has therapy. Doyle, injury, self doubt, bad memories, comfort.
Sallow Skinned, Starry Eyed, Blessed In Our Sin : BLEAK!! Just hopelessly bleak. Em is back from Paris and feels like she has nothing. Ouch.
You Were There For Me. I Am There For You. : 6 chapters, one for each character. 2 stories per chapter of friendship: Em with; Derek, Hotch, Spencer, Dave, Penelope and JJ.
Coffee And Hot Sauce ; Teen Em is suspended from college. Hotch friendship.
Memories ; Being at JJ and Will's house brings back memories for Em. Angst, abortion, bad parenting. Rossi friendship.
Against The Clock ; Diffusing a bomb?? pfft. Easy. Angst. 'Run' related. Will, JJ, Hotch.
A Phone Call Away : After Maeve's death, Em calls Spencer. Angst, grief, comfort.
Anniversary ; Oh, angst. Anniversary of the abortion. Anniversary of the stabbing. Joyful, as you can imagine. Not :) xx
The Worst Of Times : Hayley is dead and Em tries to comfort Aaron. Grief, love, friendship.
Coming Home : Em returns to the US to catch the Tribute killer... but the experience is overwhelming. Angst, self doubt, grief. Comfort. Rossi friendship.
Imaginary Friends ; Alone in Paris, Em imagines how each of her friends could help her. One chapter per friend. Angst, injury, loneliness.
Adrenaline : Em loses her cool going after Dale Shrader (Retaliation). Angst, anger, injury.
Parents ; God Em's parents are SO AWFUL. Angst, shame, Rossi friendship. 2 chapters.
Cavalry : The team save Em from her awful parents. 2 chapters.
Baptism ; After her return from Paris, is Em immortal or does she have a death wish? 'Epilogue' related.
Four Times Emily Prentiss Was Alone For A Nightmare And One Time She Wasn't : I am an evil, evil bitch. Sorry. Clearly this isn't a fun fic.
Forgiveness Is Divine : References to abortion and child death. Rossi heals some of Em's wounds. Angst and comfort.
Something To Remember Me By : Dave takes Em out for dinner before she heads to London. Friendship.
Poisonous : 'Amplification' related. JJ and Em discuss their fears on the case.
If That Mockingbird... : Em is 5. Her parents say she is bad. Agh...awful parents again.
Desert Garden ; Who has been sleeping in Dave's office? Angst. Doyle arc. Despair and sadness.
Making It Better : Em has a nightmare on the jet, and Derek isn't s sympathetic as JJ at first. Nightmares, injury, Doyle arc, hurt/comfort.
Paths That Cross : Paris, 84. Rossi meets a young teenaged girl who is lost in the world. My heart hurt writing this. Angst, and ugh... sad little Em.
It Is What It Is : '25 to life' related. Em's ability to compartmentalise had all but crumbled by now. Angst, death, blood. Derek friendship.
Pieces : A collection of fragments from Demonology. JJ, Hotch, Rossi, angst.
Unhappy Birthday ; Rossi has visited Yates again on his birthday. But he has a visitor who helps him heal. Friendship, angst. Em.
On Your Side : Jordon Todd has a friend in Emily.
Till The End Of The Day : Em needs to apologise to Dave. S15.
Esta Bien Querida : 'Rite of passage'. This case assaulted all of Em's senses. Angst, blood, death, talk of SA, petulance. Hotch, Derek, Dave.
Too Late : The team struggle individually to cope with Em's death. Angst, angst, guilt, angst.
Rendezvous : Em and Mick Rawson get together. Mild sex.
Shots : Derek, Dave and Em are injured on a mission. Copious blood, injury, hospitals, friendship.
After ; Dave talks to Em after Minimal Loss. Friendship, injury.
Quid Pro Quo : Strauss has Em over a barrel.
Just Cal My Name : Penelope helps Em relax after the Scratch ordeal. PTSS, massage, friendship, humour.
Confession ; Em has something to tell Dave. Guilt, angst, PTSS, scars, smoking, fear, friendship.
What She Needs ; Dave will be whatever Em needs him to be. Implied sex, scars, love.
Getting To Know You : New partners Morgan and Prentiss get to know one another.
had me absoLUTELY fucked the fuck up for a full entire minute until i scrolled to the next one and realized it's supposed to be put on like this
and had a full ohhhhhhhhhh okay moment
but for a full sixty seconds of my life i didn't even question it i was like yeah some straps are just that freaky deaky i love that for them whoever they are
word count: 3.5 k
Summary: Emily shamelessly flirts with you whenever she can. You never quite know what to do with that.
A/N: I got this request a while ago and decided to turn it into a series. You can find part 1 here, part 2 here, but this works completely as a standalone.
tags: flirty!EmilyPrentiss, flustered!reader, shy!reader, slow burn, mutual pining, subtle flirting, mention of weapons, training with weapons
The conference room feels far too small for the number of people crammed inside it, the air thick with overlapping conversations, the rustle of paper files and the low hum of the projector near the front of the room blending into something dense enough that it settles heavily in your chest the longer you stand there. Agents line the walls shoulder to shoulder, coffee cups balanced in their hands while snippets of conversation drift through the room in uneven waves, and somewhere between trying not to get elbowed and attempting to keep your notes from bending against your chest, you end up trapped near the door with barely enough space left to breathe comfortably.
Normally, none of this would bother you. Briefings are routine, familiar in the comforting way repetition often is, and if there is one thing you know how to do by now, it’s slipping into the structure of a profile so completely that everything else fades into the background. You know this case inside and out because you helped build the profile yourself, every timeline memorized, every inconsistency analyzed until the unsub’s behavior feels less like theory and more like something carved permanently into your thoughts.
Which is exactly why it’s frustrating that your focus begins slipping long before Hotch even starts talking.
The door opens behind you with a soft metallic click that barely registers at first, just another late arrival trying to squeeze into a room already overflowing with bodies, but then a familiar presence settles directly at your back and your entire body reacts before your brain has the chance to catch up.
Emily.
You don’t need to turn around to know it’s her. Somehow, you always know. Maybe it’s the subtle confidence in the way she carries herself or the quiet steadiness of her presence, but the awareness of her arrives instantly, sharp enough that your shoulders tense on instinct while your grip tightens fractionally around the papers in your hands.
And of all the places she could have stood, she chooses here.
Not near Rossi, where there’s still enough room to lean comfortably against the wall, and not beside Hotch near the front where several agents are already shifting to make space for late arrivals. No, Emily slips into the narrow gap directly behind you instead, close enough that the warmth radiating from her seems to settle against your spine through the thin fabric of your shirt, close enough that every slight movement she makes immediately pulls at your attention whether you want it to or not.
You shift your weight subtly, attempting to convince yourself that the sudden tension curling low in your stomach has more to do with the overcrowded room than with Emily Prentiss standing inches away from you, but the moment you move, she adjusts too, and somehow the distance between you never widens quite enough to make breathing feel easy again.
It’s ridiculous, really.
The room is packed. People are brushing shoulders constantly. Rationally, this shouldn’t mean anything at all. Emily has always been tactile, naturally flirtatious in that effortless way that makes it impossible to tell where casual charm ends and something more dangerous begins, and yet the longer she remains standing there behind you, the more impossible it becomes to convince yourself that this is entirely accidental.
Or maybe that’s the real problem. Maybe part of you desperately wants it not to be accidental, and that thought alone is enough to send warmth creeping uncomfortably up the back of your neck.
Hotch finally begins the briefing, his calm, measured voice cutting cleanly through the noise of the room as conversations slowly fade into silence around him, and you latch onto it immediately, grateful for something structured enough to anchor yourself to before your thoughts drift any further out of reach. Victimology. Escalation patterns. Behavioral consistency. Things that make sense. Things that don’t smile at you with dark, knowing eyes and leave you overanalyzing every interaction for the next six hours afterward.
You focus on the facts instead, tracing familiar details through your mind while Hotch lays out the profile, and for a moment it almost works. Almost.
Then Emily shifts behind you, barely enough movement for anyone else to notice, and the faint brush of her shoulder against yours sends your concentration unraveling all over again.
This time, though, the contact doesn’t disappear immediately.
Emily’s hand settles briefly against the small of your back as another agent squeezes past the two of you, her fingers warm even through the fabric of your shirt while she guides herself around you with an ease that feels entirely too natural.
The contact is fleeting, probably unavoidable in a room this crowded, but your body reacts immediately anyway, heat rushing through your chest so fast it feels embarrassing while your fingers tighten around your notes hard enough to crease the paper. You stare stubbornly ahead, jaw tightening slightly as you force yourself not to react outwardly, because the last thing you need is for Emily to realize how painfully aware you are of her.
Except when her hand slips away again, she doesn’t move back.
If anything, she leans in slightly closer, and suddenly you can feel the warmth of her beside your shoulder, close enough that the next words she speaks barely travel further than your ear.
“You okay there?” she murmurs quietly, amusement threading softly beneath the question.
Your stomach drops so fast it almost hurts. Although, if you’re being honest with yourself, she probably already knows.
Emily notices things. Tiny things. The shifts in expression other people miss entirely, the moments where your voice changes by half a tone, the subtle tension in your shoulders whenever she steps too close or lets her hand linger just a second longer than necessary. And the terrifying part is not just that she notices, it’s that sometimes it genuinely feels like she enjoys it.
“…and based on the escalation pattern—” Hotch pauses briefly, glancing toward you. “Go ahead.”
Your pulse stumbles immediately. Right. Your part.
You inhale slowly, already reaching for the opening sentence you had mentally rehearsed earlier, the carefully structured explanation sitting so familiarly in your mind that under normal circumstances you could probably recite it without thinking, but the second you open your mouth, the words catch somewhere between your brain and your tongue.
“The unsub is likely…”
The hesitation barely lasts a second, and still it feels catastrophic.
Heat floods your face instantly as awareness crashes over you in one humiliating wave, because there’s an empty space where the rest of your sentence should be and all you can think about is the fact that Emily is standing directly behind you close enough to hear every tiny fracture in your composure.
And worse, you can practically feel her smiling.
“…operating within a controlled environment,” you finish eventually, even though it isn’t the phrasing you intended at all.
You force yourself to continue before the silence stretches any further. “Someone who relies heavily on routine and predictability. The victim selection suggests…”
A soft exhale brushes against the back of your shoulder. Your thoughts disappear completely for half a second.
God.
It’s probably unconscious, probably meaningless, and yet your entire body reacts to it anyway, your heartbeat turning uneven while warmth spreads viciously through your chest at the realization that you can actually feel her breathing this close to you.
Then, impossibly, Emily shifts again, just enough that her arm brushes against yours this time, slow enough that it almost feels intentional.
Like she’s testing how much more of this you can take before you completely fall apart in front of her.
Don’t react. Just finish talking.
“—suggests familiarity with the locations,” you manage finally, recovering just enough to push through the remainder of the profile on pure instinct alone, although by the time Hotch nods and smoothly continues the briefing, you barely remember half of what you just said.
All you really remember is Emily standing behind you, silent and steady and entirely too close, somehow managing to distract you more thoroughly without touching you at all than anyone else ever could with both hands on your body.
And maybe that’s what unsettles you most about all of this. The fact that if she were openly flirting, if she were obvious about it, then at least you would know where you stand. But Emily exists almost entirely in half-smiles and lingering glances and quiet comments layered with meanings you can never fully untangle, leaving you trapped in this unbearable space between certainty and wishful thinking.
By the time the briefing finally ends and agents begin filtering back into the hallway, relief settles through you so quickly it almost makes your knees feel weak. You move with the crowd immediately, desperate for distance and fresh air and enough space to think clearly again before Emily notices just how badly she affected you.
Which, realistically, is already too late.
“You hesitated.” Emily’s voice appears beside you almost instantly once the two of you step into the hallway, warm amusement curling beneath the words, and when you glance toward her despite yourself, she’s already watching you with that same unreadable expression that always feels like she knows far more than she’s saying aloud.
“You threw me off,” you mutter, quieter than intended.
Emily hums softly, clearly entertained.
Then her fingers catch briefly around your wrist before you can move any further ahead with the crowd, the touch light but firm enough to stop you for half a second. Your pulse stumbles immediately.
“Really?” she asks, tilting her head slightly while her thumb brushes once against the inside of your wrist, dangerously close to your pulse. “I didn’t think I distracted you that easily.”
The contact disappears almost as quickly as it came, but warmth still lingers against your skin afterward, sharp enough that your thoughts immediately begin unraveling all over again.
“There was space up front,” you say after a moment, because focusing on literally anything else suddenly feels safer than acknowledging the fact that Emily Prentiss just touched you like that in the middle of the bullpen hallway. “You didn’t have to stand behind me.”
“No,” Emily agrees easily. Instead of stepping away, though, she shifts slightly closer again, close enough that the faint scent of her perfume slips warm and distracting into your space all over again. “But you looked cute trying not to react.”
Your stomach drops so fast it almost hurts. Heat floods your face, which only makes the amused curve of Emily’s mouth deepen slightly, like she’s just been handed confirmation of something she already suspected.
“You were watching me,” you accuse as the two of you continue walking through the bullpen doors together.
Emily glances toward you slowly then, openly studying your face instead of even pretending not to, and the second her eyes catch the lingering flush still warming your cheeks, something pleased flickers across her expression.
Like finding exactly what she’d been looking for.
“Was I?” she asks lightly.
Her shoulder brushes yours a second later, subtle enough to pass as accidental to anyone else, but Emily doesn’t move away afterward.
You nearly laugh at that, mostly because the alternative would involve admitting how painfully aware you were of her the entire time. “You know you were.”
For a second, neither of you says anything. Emily simply studies you with a kind of quiet attentiveness that makes it impossible to look away, and suddenly you feel unbearably exposed beneath her gaze, as though she can see every frantic thought currently tangling itself apart inside your head.
“Interesting,” she murmurs eventually.
You narrow your eyes immediately. “That’s not about the briefing.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
The response settles low in your chest and stays there, heavy and warm and dangerous all at once. Your breathing catches slightly before you can stop it, and the worst part is knowing Emily notices that too. Of course she does.
“You did that on purpose,” you say quietly, because pretending otherwise suddenly feels impossible.
“Did what?” she asks, far too innocent to be believable. The corner of her mouth twitches upward, like she can barely keep herself from laughing at you.
You stop walking then, turning fully toward her because if she keeps looking at you like this while pretending not to understand what she’s doing, you genuinely might lose your mind a little.
“You know exactly what.”
For a moment, Emily just watches you, her expression softening almost imperceptibly around the edges as though she’s carefully considering how honest she wants to be with you. Then finally, after a beat long enough to make your pulse throb painfully in your throat, she smiles.
“Last time we talked, you looked very confident when you said I don’t distract you.” Her gaze drifts slowly down your face then, lingering for half a second too long before lifting back to your eyes again. “I had to test the theory.”
Heat crashes through you so fast it feels unbearable. “That was not—”
“An accurate statement?” Emily finishes smoothly, obvious amusement flickering through her voice now.
You glare at her, which only makes her smile widen slightly, softer this time, almost fond beneath the teasing.
“I was curious,” she says with a small shrug, as though that somehow explains why she spent an entire briefing dismantling your ability to think coherently.
Maybe it does.
You look at her carefully. “So none of that was random.”
“No,” Emily answers immediately.
Then, before you can prepare yourself for it, her fingers brush lightly against your sleeve again, smoothing over the fabric in one absent little motion that feels far too intimate for how casual she makes it look.
“No,” she repeats more quietly, her eyes holding yours steadily now. “Neither was your reaction.”
The quiet certainty in her voice tightens something painfully in your chest because suddenly this feels less like harmless flirting and more like Emily deliberately reaching for every reaction you try so hard to hide from her. And the truly dangerous part is realizing she seems almost fascinated each time she finds one.
Emily holds your gaze for another long second before finally stepping back slightly, giving you enough space to breathe again even though your heartbeat still feels hopelessly uneven.
“I just picked a spot,” she says lightly, as though both of you can still pretend that’s all this was.
You stare at her, waiting for the joke, the backtracking, something to make this feel less terrifyingly sincere than it suddenly does.
Instead, Emily lets the silence stretch between you for just a second too long, long enough that it begins to settle beneath your skin like an answer in itself while her expression shifts almost imperceptibly into something smaller, more controlled, a smile that feels strangely private, as though she’s holding onto a thought she has no intention of sharing with you yet.
Then she winks.
Not exaggerated or playful enough to let you dismiss it as harmless teasing, but subtle, deliberate, devastatingly confident in a way that makes warmth rush violently through your chest all over again.
And before you can even think of something coherent to say back, she’s already turning away, effortlessly slipping back into step with Hotch and the others as though she hasn’t just spent the last several minutes deliberately ruining your ability to function properly.
You remain standing there for a moment longer than necessary, pulse still uneven beneath your ribs, staring after her with the deeply uncomfortable realization that absolutely none of that interaction had been accidental.
Worse still, some part of you suspects Emily knew from the beginning exactly how you were going to react to her standing that close.
And somehow, despite recognizing every warning sign in real time, you still let her pull you apart piece by piece exactly the way she wanted to.
Later, back in the bullpen, the familiar rhythm of work should have grounded you by now. Usually it does. The constant ringing of phones, the low chatter drifting between desks, Garcia’s music playing faintly from her office while keyboards clatter steadily throughout the room, it’s all so normal, so routine, that most days the familiarity settles around you like muscle memory.
Tonight, though, none of it helps. Because every attempt at focusing eventually circles back to Emily. To the warmth of her standing behind you. To the quiet amusement in her voice when she pointed out your hesitation. To the way she looked at you afterward, calm and knowing and entirely too aware of what she was doing to you.
And maybe that’s the worst part of all.
Not that Emily flustered you, she’s always been capable of that but the terrifying suspicion that she enjoyed it. That she noticed every fractured breath and every stumble in your composure and chose to push anyway, just to see how far she could get before you completely unraveled beneath her attention.
Your thoughts are spiraling badly enough by the time you reach Garcia’s office that you don’t even realize you’ve stopped in the doorway until her attention snaps immediately toward you.
She’s surrounded, as always, by organized chaos, bright screens glowing in every direction, colorful pens scattered across her desk beside an alarming amount of candy wrappers but the second she catches sight of your expression, her eyes narrow with instant curiosity.
“Okay,” she says slowly, leaning back in her chair just enough to study you properly, “that face means something happened.”
You hesitate. Which, unfortunately, is answer enough.
Garcia’s eyebrows lift immediately. “Oh my God,” she breathes, already delighted. “It was Emily, wasn’t it?”
You glance instinctively over your shoulder before stepping fully into the office, lowering your voice despite the fact that Emily is nowhere nearby. The habit alone feels incriminating.
“I don’t know if I’m overthinking this,” you begin carefully, although the uncertainty in your voice already undermines the statement, “but during the briefing she stood right behind me. Like… really close. And she didn’t have to. There was space literally everywhere else.”
Garcia’s entire face lights up with the kind of excitement that instantly tells you this conversation is about to become deeply unhelpful.
“Oh, honey,” she says immediately, sounding almost offended on your behalf that you’re even questioning it, “she absolutely did that on purpose.”
Relief and frustration crash together in your chest so quickly you almost laugh. “That’s what I thought,” you admit, “but afterward she pointed out that I hesitated during the profile, and the way she said it…”
You trail off briefly, trying and failing to put the feeling into words.
“It wasn’t just that she noticed,” you continue more quietly. “It felt like she knew why I hesitated.”
Garcia’s expression softens, the teasing melting into something more understanding as she watches you carefully for a moment. “And now you don’t know how to read that,” she says gently.
“I don’t know how she means it,” you correct quickly, because somehow that distinction feels important. Maybe painfully important.
Garcia hums thoughtfully, although the expression on her face suggests she has already reached her conclusion several steps ago. “Sweetie,” she says after approximately half a second of consideration, “there is really only one way to mean that.”
You frown immediately. “That’s not helpful.”
“It is,” she insists softly, tilting her head at you. “You just don’t like the answer very much.”
The frustrating part is that she’s probably right.
You look away, exhaling slowly through your nose while your thoughts tangle themselves apart all over again, because acknowledging what this might mean also means acknowledging how badly you want it to mean something at all, and that realization feels far more dangerous than you’re prepared to unpack right now.
“I just…” You hesitate again before finally admitting, quieter this time, “I don’t understand what she wants from that.”
Garcia’s smile turns unexpectedly fond at the edges. “Maybe she doesn’t want anything,” she says gently. “Maybe she just likes seeing you react.”
The words settle heavily in your chest because the awful thing is that you can suddenly picture it perfectly. Emily noticing every tiny shift in your expression, every stumble in your voice, every flustered attempt to regain control of yourself, and finding all of it endlessly entertaining.
Not cruelly. Not carelessly. Almost affectionately, somehow.
And that possibility feels close to the truth in a way that makes your stomach twist. Because if Garcia is right, then Emily already knows exactly what she does to you.
And instead of pulling away from it, she keeps stepping closer.
The Sun and Her Scorched Earth Masterlist (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?
Warnings: smut; canon-type violence; angst
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Reader; Emily Prentiss x Y/N; Emily Prentiss x AFAB!reader; Emily Prentiss x POC!reader
Chapter List:
Chapter 1 - A Game of Chance
Chapter 2 – The Very First Night
Chapter 3 – Feeling Good
Chapter 4 – Reflections of Us
Chapter 5 – The Very First Day
Chapter 6 – Re-Defining
Chapter 7 – Sparks
Chapter 8 – Loose Lips Sink Ships
Chapter 9 – Taking Aim
Chapter 10 – Catching Fire
Chapter 11 – Thank You
Chapter 12 – Her Impact
Chapter 13 – The Interrogation
Chapter 14 – Unsatisfied
Chapter 15 – Inferno
Chapter 16 – Revelations of Us
Chapter 17 – Icarus
Chapter 18 – The Depths
Chapter 19 – A Game of Deception
Chapter 20 – Distortions of Us
Thank you @sadgirlml for helping me with the header
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?
Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss
Chapter List:
Chapter 1 - Seeking Arrangements
Chapter 2 - Forced Proposal
Chapter 3 - Butterflies
Chapter 4 - Enchanted
Chapter 5 - Terms and Conditions
Chapter 6 - Special Delivery
Chapter 7 - Welcome Home
Chapter 8 - A Work of Art
Chapter 9 - Chanel or Chopin?
Chapter 10 - Progress
Chapter 11 - Meet the Family
Chapter 12 - Make You Feel My Love
Chapter 13 - Transcendent
Chapter 14 - Redrawing Boundaries
Chapter 15 - A Black Tie Affair
Chapter 16 - Convergence
Chapter 17 - Emily's Secrets
Chapter 18 - Coming to Terms
Chapter 19 - All Tied Up
Chapter 20 - Taunt
Chapter 21 - Evolution
Chapter 22 - The South Side Slayer
Chapter 23 - Exalted Entanglements
Chapter 24 - Family Dinner
Chapter 25 - The Woman in the Mirror
Chapter 26 - Gone to the Everglades
Chapter 27 - Lesson Learned
Chapter 28 - A Waiting Game
Chapter 29 - Wayward
Chapter 30 - Reconciliation
Chapter 31 - Sweet Harmony
Chapter 32 - Birthday Wishes
Chapter 33 - Just Say Yes
Chapter 34 - Twister
