Anonymous asked: Ok heres an emison AU that I should probably write (and maybe I will) but Alison (24?) moves back in with her divorced super rich father to find he's got himself a hot young fiancé- Emily. Who is Ali's age, Ali is a total daddy's little princess who isn't sharing her father with this obvious gold digger and sets about trying to sabotage Em, cue uncovering that not only is Em gay and somewhat into Alison, but she's also an undercover FBI agent and Daddy DiLaurentis is making deals with some nasty guys.
A/N: I received this prompt on Tumblr a while ago (like, eight months ago, lol) from TGHall and I typed it all, but I'm actually just getting around to actually posting it (whoopsie, lol.) I really hope you guys enjoy it, it was pretty fun to write. Jealous Alison is such a fun character to portray, so any chance I get to write her, it makes me pretty freaking happy. Now, without further adieu...
"Alison, would you please go and try and make the dining room a little bit more presentable?"
Alison rolled her eyes and huffed at her father,"What do you mean more presentable? Does she not like when the silverware is shinier than the 3-carat diamond ring you bought her? Or does she prefer Versace napkins instead of Gucci?"
Mr. DiLaurentis ran his fingers through his slicked-back hair and straightened his tie, turning away from the mirror to face his blonde daughter. He sighed with slight frustration in his voice,"Darling, why are you being so difficult? I just want the house to be in order before she arrives."
Alison rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her dress-clad hip. "Dad, she's literally been here two billion times. Why is this night even different from the others? I mean, all you two have done so far is drink wine and talk about your Cuban cigar collection."
"Because," he smoothly replied,"You are invited this time. You two barely talk whenever she's over and I want you to start to make a good connection with her. After all, she is going to be your new mother soon."
Alison turned her back and quietly muttered,"Yeah, don't remind me."
Mr. DiLaurentis laid his hand on his daughter's shoulder in comfort and softly spoke,"Alison, I know you're going to feel some slight... resent, since Jessica and I finalized the divorce. But trust me, Emily is beautiful and insightful, and you'll love her if you just try and get to know her." He exited the living room and Alison crossed her arms and scoffed,"Emily."
Precious, beautiful, amazing, flawless Emily. Alison couldn't stand that bitch.
Every time her father got into talking about her, Alison's ears came closer and closer to bleeding. He'd go on and on and on about how Emily was the "one for him" and how she'd "saved him from a life of misery." It'd only been a month and a half since Jessica had finally left the DiLaurentis family for good and now this Emily girl had swooped in and completely taken over her father's life. He'd taken her to luxurious business parties as a plus one, constantly showered her in pearls and diamonds, even taken her to France to the actual top of the Eiffel Tower, and Alison found it all so godawful.
Alison couldn't lie, though; Emily was pretty stunning. Her dark hair sparkled under the mansion's chandelier lights, her cheekbones were sharp enough to cut through the diamonds currently basking on her ring finger, she couldn't be a day over twenty three (which disturbed Alison on one level and baffled her on another, it would be like having a sister for a mother), her body looked like she was fresh out of a Victoria's Secret catalog, her eyebrows couldn't have been more on point, and her eyes were the softest yet most piercing pair of sparkling brown orbs that Alison had ever seen.
She was almost perfect. Almost.
Alison also saw right through all that pretty, though, down to Emily's true intentions; this girl was too almost-perfect for her own good. Alison could feel that Emily was a bottom-feeding pseudo-saint and she was only in this crappy relationship for the money (because why else would an extremely young girl be marrying a fifty-four year old man? Love?) It was no secret that the DiLaurentis Family was among the most wealthy in Pennsylvania, not to mention to the most infamous in Rosewood. If people weren't talking about Kenneth DiLaurentis, they were definitely talking about his blonde bombshell daughter, Alison. Anybody who was anybody wanted to be friends with her, and if they weren't friends with Alison, they were friends with Alison's friends. All in all, DiLaurentis was a direct synonym of popularity. And Emily was ready to drink that popularity straight from the faucet.
Not if Alison couldn't stop it from happening tonight, though.
"Alison, it's almost seven, Emily will be here soon. Come greet her with me."
If Alison rolled her eyes any harder, they'd probably pop out of her head. She briefly looked herself up and down in the living room mirror, and couldn't help but admit, she looked pretty damn good. Her strappy, silver Jimmy Choo's seemed a little offsetting compared to the white Zuhair Murad dress she was wearing, but the Tiffany & Co. pearls that were laced around her neck and the pearl earrings balanced everything out.
She smiled. At least when her dad wasn't spoiling Emily, he was definitely spoiling her.
"Alison," her father hastily called.
She silently groaned and made her way through the living room to stand next to her father, where he held his hands behind his back and was visibly struggling to contain his excitement. He glanced down at a scowling Alison and murmured,"Could you at least smile when she arrives? Just this once?"
Alison deadpanned,"Why smile when when we all know it's a fake one?"
"How about you try a better attitude before she walks through that door?" He coyly suggested.
She frowned deeper and muttered,"How about you try not dating gold-digging sluts?"
Mr. DiLaurentis clenched his jaw and he hissed,"Alison Lauren DiLaurentis—"
The doorbell chimed before her father could go off, and he turned his face and gave her a deep warning look, before clearing his throat and opening the front door. Alison held her breath as she slowly laid eyes on the elegant brunette; her dress must have only come out that week, her shoes couldn't have been more chic, and did she literally hire the MAC CEO's to do her makeup? God dammit, she was gorgeous.
"Emily," her father immediately swooned,"Looking stunning as always, my darling." He leaned down, laying a kiss to Emily's manicured hand. Alison fought hard to hold back a dramatic gag, watching Emily smile back as she complimented,"You're looking just as handsome tonight, Ken."
Alison bitterly sighed; she hated when Emily called him Ken. Although, the name disgustingly fit since Emily was as fake as Barbie's plastic arms and legs and her dad was her rich Malibu boy-toy.
"Hi, Alison," Emily's smooth voice broke the string of insults going through the blonde's head, and the blonde stepped backwards a little as she noticed Emily had come closer. The brunette was looking down at Alison with curious, almost expectant eyes. Alison looked her up and down.
"Emily," Alison monotonously replied, keeping her eyes locked on Emily's. They stood there for a good two minutes, facing off in the heat of tension. Alison tilted her head, never uncrossing her arms and never drawing her eyes away from Emily's. Emily certainly had an equally fierce stare, her Coach handbag hanging off her forearm as she raised an eyebrow at the blonde. A stare down she wants, a stare down she gets, Alison thought.
Mr. DiLaurentis glanced between the two women, sensing the oncoming reign of verbal terror that his daughter was about to unleash, and finally rushed out,"Let's, uh, get dinner started, shall we ladies?"
XxX
"This food is absolutely perfect, Ken."
"Oh, don't thank me, darling, thank our chef, Andre. He's the magic in the kitchen, I'm the magic in the office, and in other places as well," Mr. DiLaurentis chuckled, wiggling his bushy eyebrows.
Alison loudly stabbed another noodle with her fork, trying so dearly to block out the conversation between her father and Emily. God, what the hell were they even talking about? It kept going back and forth between the dinner they were currently eating to the imported-leather seats inside of his custom limo. She was considering calling up her friends to come and intervene so she could get the hell out of here, but her dad had already locked away her iPhone in his room so that it was literally impossible for her to escape.
She then briefly considered faking a fainting-episode. She took an acting class once. Maybe she could hold her breath until she looked pale, and say that the shrimp had given her food poisoning. Maybe she could excuse herself to the bathroom and just not come out for the rest of the night—
"Alison, you've barely spoken all night, dear. Tell us, how's that project with Chanel coming along? Or the one with Tory Burch?" Her father gave her a not-so subtle look that screamed, talk to my fiancée or I'm cutting you off for the next month.
"They're all fine," Alison shortly responded. It wasn't a great response but at least she made an effort.
"Emily told me she's actually interested in the fashion industry as well, modeling actually. She and you would make a great team, don't you think?" Mr. DiLaurentis pushed.
"Yeah, Ali," Emily hummed. It was clearly a mocking tone and Alison gritted her teeth, ready to tear this girl's head off because who even gave her the right to call her Ali.
"It's Alison," the blonde immediately corrected in a bittersweet tone, her grin clearly laced with venomous loathe.
Mr. DiLaurentis suddenly stood up from the table as a loud, annoying iPhone ringtone echoed through the dining room. He glanced at his phone with a rather stressed expression, then placing a hand on Emily's and cooing,"I am so sorry, I have to take this. Business never sleeps, you know."
He rushed into the kitchen, fiercely whispering into the phone, leaving Alison sitting directly across from Emily. Let it begin, Alison thought.
"So, Emily," Alison began,"What do you actually do for a living?" Besides mooch off my dad, Alison internally quipped.
"I work for a private international investment business," Emily breezily responded.
Alison picked up her glass of wine, mindlessly swirling the dark liquid around. She taunted,"Hm, I wouldn't think you had a job as much as you're always with my dad. You know, sleeping in his bed... eating his gourmet-food... riding in his limo... spending his money."
Emily narrowed her eyes and loudly set down her fork. "Listen, Alison. I don't know what your overall deal is here, but it's getting pretty tired. God, these past three weeks, you've just— You've been a complete pain in the ass."
Alison eye's widened at Emily's blunt words and huffed,"Excuse me?"
"You're the most immature twenty-three year old woman I've ever met. If anything, you should be happy that your father is finally happy. But no, you just have to be daddy's little princess. You seriously need to grow up and realize that not everything is going to revolve around you, Alison," Emily finished, clearly frustrated with the blonde, sitting back in her seat.
"Wow, you don't know my father and you definitely don't know me, so don't come in my house and tell me what my life is like. If you think he's actually into you then you've got it ass-backwards," Alison hissed.
Emily gripped her wine glass, ready to spew out another rant, but relented and sighed,"You know what? I'm not doing this with you. You're just completely full of it and I know you hold yourself to higher standards than this." Alison watched her for a second, the blonde taking a slow sip of the wine in her hand, then setting it back down on the table.
"Okay," Alison stated, with a scarily calm, icy tone,"You have two simple options, Emily. You can either leave, or I'll make you leave."
Emily challenged,"Is that a threat?"
Alison growled,"It's a promise."
"Ladies! How's dinner going?" Mr. DiLaurentis loudly entered the room with a sweaty look, his face slightly red from whatever call he'd just been in.
"Charming," Alison drawled. She and Emily shared a silent, before returning back to mutilating her food, her mind set on getting this woman out of her house tonight, once and for all.
XxX
Alison stepped out of her father's bathroom, the gold necklace hanging off her fingertips as she she deviously smirked at Emily's Coach bag, which was laying so sweetly on the bed. This might have been pushing it a little (okay, a lot) but she knew this was the only thing that would break her father's nauseatingly-mushy love for Emily. It was her mother's necklace, the one Kenneth had gotten for on their first anniversary. Despite claiming that he was completely over Jessica, he'd kept that necklace tucked away in the little drawer in his bathroom, wrapped in silk cloth and nesting in the very corner. It meant the world to him, Alison knew. And how badly would it look if it just turned up missing, only to be found in Emily's purse?
Alison couldn't help but laugh to herself. She was such a bitch.
She unzipped Emily's purse and instantly saw clutters of receipts and folded-up pieces of papers. She rolled her eyes and muttered,"Talk about messy." She dropped the necklace, watching it slip deeper into the purse, her eyes then laying sight on a mascara tube next to a small wallet. Waterproof liquid eyeliner; good choice, Alison thoughtfully mused. Her eyes danced on the small black wallet, and even though she knew she shouldn't be looking at Emily's stuff, she eventually picked it up, examining the girl's straight-faced photo.
Alison frowned; even on a crappy little card, Emily still looked inexplicably gorgeous. It just wasn't fair.
Her eyes roamed over the words below the photo, and she narrowed her eyes as she read out each word. "Emily Fields... International JSOC Agent... Status: Lethal ... Federal Bureau of Investigation?" Emily was an FBI agent? What the fuck?
"Alison? What the hell are you doing?"
The blonde whipped around and saw a very, very vexed Emily standing in the bedroom doorway, her fists clenched at her sides and her brow dipped down in anger. She was pissed. "What are you doing in my purse?"
"What are you doing in my dad's room? And what is this?" Alison sneered back, flailing the wallet in Emily's direction. "You're a freaking lethal FBI agent?"
"Ali, don't play the bullshit right now, just don't," Emily spat back, her glare deepening. "I knew you were a brat but this is just too far. You can't just go through my stuff!"
"Okay, but you mind explaining why the hell you're spying on my family? And do not fucking call me Ali," Alison hissed. "I knew there was something up with you. You're probably selling all our stuff to some Mexican drug cartel, to like, fucking El Chapo— No, you know what? I'm telling him, this is too far, way too fucking far."
Alison huffed and she quickly exited the bedroom, about to proudly march right to her father and expose Emily once and for all. She was almost to the dining room where her father was before she was hastily yanked into the dark, hallway closet. Her back met the thin closet wall and she let out a small,"Oomph," as the closet door slammed shut.
She felt for the light switch, quickly flipping it on and Emily's face came into sight in the dim light. She immediately flailed in the small space as she seethed,"Emily, open this door now. You are some crazy spy bitch and I'm not letting you take advantage of my dad any longer. You lied to him and that's so wrong and—"
"Alison, stop— stop screaming," Emily quietly hissed. The brunette huffed, grabbing Alison's wrists and pinning them to the wall and firmly pressing her body up against the blonde's to keep her from squirming. The venomous words instantly died in Alison's mouth, the contact of Emily's lithe body practically rubbing up against hers. She felt her heartbeat stutter and her pupils go wide and her breath get caught in her throat, she didn't know why she was reacting like this to Emily touching her but she knew it was just plain wrong and she wanted these feelings to stop.
"Alison, I just need you to stop and listen to me, please. Just listen to me," Emily quietly but sternly spoke and Alison's silence furthered her more. "Yes, I'm in the FBI. I've been an agent for a year now, and this is something you really, really can't tell your dad. I shouldn't have left my private I.D. in my purse anyways, that was senseless on my part," Emily muttered at the end.
"Are you spying on us?" Alison softly, but fiercely asked. She was trying (and failing) to ignore how Emily's breasts would rise and fall against her own as the brunette breathed in and out, or despite the grip, her hands were still insanely soft.
Emily heavily sighed,"I can't really tell you these things, Alison. You shouldn't even know that—"
"Are you spying on us, Emily?" Alison fiercely reiterated. She went to pull her wrists from Emily's grasp but the brunette tightened her hands and shortly relented to Alison,"I'm not spying. I'm working undercover."
Alison's eyes dipped in annoyance and she retorted,"So, basically, spying, but out in the open. But why?"
Emily groaned,"Alison..."
"You can either tell me or I can tell my dad that you had me locked in a hot closet for fifteen minutes," Alison challenged.
Emily growled,"It's only been like five minutes. It's not that simple to tell you these things, Alison. Once you know all this, you're an accessory to this entire operation, and you have to keep quiet about this."
Alison smirked and spoke with mirth,"I'm good at keeping secrets, I promise."
Emily took a deep breath, and began,"So, your father is relatively wealthy. Well, he's probably told you that he owns the Market Logistics Business in California, right?" Alison nodded. "Well, he does, but not legally. He's been trading market analytics with the corporate leaders in Mexico City to try to make sure that places like Argentina and Columbia don't catch up on America's trading division. But the other countries are getting suspicious and losing billions of dollars, while Mexico City, and your dad, are making billions of dollars. He's basically stealing money from other countries, and giving some of the wealth to Mexico. And if he doesn't stop soon, Argentina and Columbia are going to send well-trained personnel after your dad and the outcome won't be pretty."
Alison blinked a couple of times, and waited a couple of moments before asking,"... So, you don't actually like him?"
Emily narrowed her eyes, appalled that she'd literally just told Alison one of the dirtiest FBI operations right now and that's all the blonde managed to muster. The brunette huffed, "Seriously? No, Alison, I don't like your dad. Why would I be marrying a guy when I'm literally the same age as his daughter? For God's sake, I'm not going to take your precious dad from you. I mean, I don't even like men. And you, God, you are so—"
Alison choked in disbelief,"Wait, you like girls? Like, like-like girls?"
"Yes, I do. If you have a problem with that then—"
"No, no. I think it's... different. I like it," Alison spoke with a soft smile. "Do you have a girlfriend?" There Alison went again, pressing into personal Emily's business when she wasn't supposed to. But truly, she couldn't help it, something about the girl was so addicting.
Emily cringed and awkwardly told,"I, uh, I did, but we broke up a while ago. She didn't like that I was gone from home all the time... and she had the worst temper. Like, tried-to-drown-me-temper. And after that, I left. I don't think there was another option other than that."
Alison gaped,"She tried to drown you? Oh my God, that's insane. I mean, it's one thing to not like your relationship but, God, that's just next level."
Emily smiled at Alison's slight agreement. "I know, right? But it's all in the past now, though. There's way better girls out there for me... way better." Emily finished her sentence with a small, shy smile at Alison and Alison felt it again, she felt her goddamn chest fill with butterflies and she swore she was blushing. Emily was so close to her, and Alison just couldn't stop staring at her shimmering brown eyes. The look in Emily's eyes was small and sweet, and Alison's stomach began to puddle in her feet; Emily was more gorgeous in this moment than she'd ever seen before. Not because of the dress, or the heels, or the diamonds, but because of the tiny smile on her face and the small dimples in her left cheek. And Alison had this inexplicable need to reach out and touch Emily's pink, glimmering lips; she bet they felt like clouds. Alison had no idea why it was so quiet, or why her skin was tingling where Emily was touching it, or why she leaning towards Emily's face, or why she really, really, really wanted to kiss Emily right now.
Before she got any closer Alison's mind jolted back to the reality, because holy shit, she was about to kiss Emily. The blonde then remembered what position she and Emily had been in, the brunette girl's hands still wrapped around her wrists (not as tightly as before) and her body between's Emily body and the closet wall. They quickly untangled themselves, Emily clearing her throat and muttering,"It's way too hot in here."
"Same," Alison mumbled, opening the door and the breeze hitting her body. It was a really refreshing breeze too, considering she about to basically spontaneously combust a few moments ago. She silent sighed, a whirlwind of thoughts running through her head. She was about to kiss Emily— correction, she was about to kiss her dad's fiancée. She didn't even want to talk to Emily a few hours ago, let alone be in the same room with her. That was so, so wrong. But she knew it would've felt so fucking amazing. But it was literally her father's fiancée. What the fuck just happened, she internally pondered.
"Ali." Emily's voice broke Alison's thoughts, and she raised her eyebrows at the blonde. She quietly said,"I was serious back there. You can't say anything to anybody."
Alison easily responded,"I know, I know. I told you, it'll be our little secret. Cross my heart."
She watched Emily's face slowly bubble with small joy and the blonde gave her a look. "What?"
"You let me call you Ali," Emily softly gleamed.
"Oh," the blonde smiled, a blush embarrassingly burning fully on her face this time. She sheepishly admitted,"Well, you always could have... I was just being a bitch. In fact, I'm sorry for being a bitch in general this past month. I know I've been... just, completely rude and extremely immature, especially tonight, and I don't know—"
"It's okay," Emily interrupted, taking Alison's hand and giving it a squeeze. "I know you're just protective of your dad. You could've been a bit easier on me, but I guess you just have that natural protective side."
Alison acted on pure impulse, standing on her tip-toes and pressing her lips to Emily's cheek, once, and then another short time for good measure, and pulling back with a grin. The blonde fluttered her eyes and shrugged,"There's my apology."
Emily had paused in her tracks, her eyes wide and a red hue making its way onto her cheeks. Did Ali really just do that? She felt Alison's thumb stroke the back of her hand, the same smile Alison's had shortly come to adore making its way on Emily's face. The brunette teased (despite the warmth spreading across her cheeks),"Thanks. Now, uh, let's go finish that dessert, shall we? My fiancé is waiting for me."
Alison only rolled her eyes and scoffed as she and Emily made their way down the hall, their hands still absentmindedly linked, much to Alison's silent delight.
Emily chuckled,"Don't worry, Ali, you'll always be daddy's favorite."
Alison deeply frowned and she spoke in slight disgust,"Do me a favor and never say that again."
They both shared a laugh, heading down the hallway to face the rest of the chaotic night.
This was insanely fun to write, and I'm not quite sure why, but nonetheless, I love it. Now if only I was able to actually fulfill the prompt within a decent time range, lol. Hope you guys liked it :-)